By Xasphie

TITLE: Eostur

AUTHOR: Xasphie

E-MAIL: xasphie1@aol.com




DISCLAIMERS: Not mine. My purring co-authors belong to me though.

SUMMARY: Blair’s always plans his classes so well

STATUS: Complete

WARNING: This is completely and utterly stupid, and I should not be allowed to write anything else after this.  If you thought the Christmas Elf-Explanatory story was bad, trust me, this is worse....

Originally posted to the SA List April 2004



By Xasphie

"Sandburg, do I want to know what you're doing?"  Jim Ellison had had yet another long, weary day, to the point where he would seriously consider a career change if that option arose.  He was not ready for a twilight trip to the Sandburg zone.

"Uh, possibly not, Jim."  Blair's normally dark hair was an odd shade of gray where something that looked like flour was coating every strand.  He stepped forward to bar Jim's entrance into the kitchen area.
Was that a globule of butter he had just trodden in?
Ellison heaved an 'I'm not prepared to deal with you right now' sigh and requested a cold beer from the refrigerator.
"About the refrigerator..." Blair chewed his bottom lip nervously as he tried to extract a bottle without Ellison looking over his shoulder.  "I promise I'll clear it up."
"Clear up what... no wait.  Don't tell me.  I really don't want to know."
It was late, Jim was tired, and Sandburg was turning into a kitchen version of Benjamin Franklin, after the lightning storm.
"I'm going upstairs, Chief."  Ellison trudged towards the stairs.  "Make sure this, whatever 'this', is cleared up by morning."
Dialing his senses as low as he dared, the detective gave up on Thursday and waited for Friday to dawn brightly, and preferably after several hours of uninterrupted sleep.
At 5am, Ellison descended for a much-needed snack, to fill the hole in his stomach where he hadn't eaten the night before.
Relieved, he found that the kitchen area had indeed been cleared up, but the smell of burnt dough was unmistakable.  There was a plastic container that seemed to hold the items responsible, and Jim cringed as he eased off the
lid and stared at the cremated remains inside.
Next to it was a typed sheet that Blair was clearly planning to use for one of his classes.  Ellison hoped that the students wouldn't be forced to eat the contents of the plastic tub, or the Graduate would probably find various lawsuits on his hands.
Noting the sounds of Blair in deep slumber in his room, Jim spent several minutes scanning the typed sheets.
As he continued to read, an evil grin spread widely across his face, and the inklings of a very devious, and quite potentially Guide-killing-Sentinel idea slowly formed.
Ellison hastily dressed and nipped out of the apartment, heading for the 24hr store on the corner of Miller and South.  This could be the ultimate in set-ups.
Within thirty minutes he was back in the apartment and executing his 'perfect' plan.
Meanwhile, Blair Sandburg unsuspectingly continued to sleep.
"As you know, many of the festival days that we celebrate during the year have often been influenced by more than one religion."  Blair was enjoying this morning's lecture.  He felt well prepared, and each of the students appeared engaged.  "Even the idea of eating hot cross buns on Good Friday, is not derived purely from the Christian tradition.  In fact, roots of this idea can be traced back to the Egyptians and the Babylonians where they offered cakes to honor Hathor.  The Saxons worshiped the goddess Eostre, the word 'Eostur' meaning the season of the growing sun."
The students were hastily jotting down notes, knowing that Sandburg would be asking questions later.
" ... used to show the four phases of the moon, it derives from the Pagan tradition of ..."
More notes being made.
" ... was the Saxon symbol choice, and they marked their buns accordingly, wanting to ..."
The plastic container remained unopened on the front desk.
"I have here a variety of the kinds of buns traditionally offered during the Easter festival season.  I thought it would give you all an idea of..."
Blair's voice faded away as he lifted the lid of the container.
The sudden silence caused each of the students to look up and concentrate on their tutor's stunned look of disbelief.
Like a goldfish on a teaspoon, Blair opened and closed his mouth several times, looking completely shocked and uncomprehending.
He continued to gaze wide-eyed into the contents of the plastic tub.
That, most certainly, had not been put in there by himself.
After several moments of fruitless squeaking on Sandburg's behalf, the gathering students finally made out the gist of Blair's words.
"I'm going to kill him."
With a black marker pen's lines depicting a scowl, the frazzled and crispy remains of pink fluff stared insolently up at Sandburg.  The label hanging around its neck was in Ellison's handwriting:
'This is the Chopec version of a (it was hot when it came out of the oven) hot, cross bunny.'


copyright Xasphie 3/4/04