But, Blair, on the other hand...
The Intrepid Anthropologist
"Quiet down, Sandburg."
"Jim, man, I'm *working* here, unlike *some* people."
"Work in your room."
"I can't. There's no place to work."
"Try clearing off the top of your desk."
"And where would I put it all?"
"On the floor with everything else."
"Funny. You're watching T.V., man. This can't possibly be bothering you."
"Fine. I'll stop."
"You need to chill, man."
"That's what I'm *trying* to do, but your clicking away at the keyboard is grating on my nerves."
"Sooorrry! Geez." Blair closed his laptop and moved over to the couch, taking up residence next to Jim. "What're you watching, anyway?"
A shrug. "Don't know."
"Why are they fighting?"
"Bad guy. Good guy."
"Do you *mind*?"
"Sorry." With a sigh, Blair shut up and turned his attention to the action on the screen.
Minutes passed, but Blair lost interest in the film. The acting was bad and the plot apparently held together with gum and rubberbands. The only good thing about it was the special effects. Something got blown up every ten minutes or so.
Blair stifled a yawn and glanced at Jim, who seemed to be completely oblivious to his presence. Blair hadn't seen the Sentinel in days, both of them working a long, tough week. Jim was obviously exhausted. Hell, so was he. The real reason he'd been working at the kitchen table was because he wanted to be in the same room with Jim. Truth was, a week of pulling 10-hour days at the university left him missing his friend. Of course, he'd never tell Jim that.
*I wonder if he missed me at the station.*
This time he gave into the yawn, inadvertently brushing against Jim as he raised his hand to cover his mouth.
"You know, there's a whole couch here," Jim grumbled, nudging him away.
"Geez. Sorry. Someone's in a pissy mood tonight."
Blair glared at his friend. Just why *had* he missed the oh-so-fun-loving detective? He clenched his jaw and *accidentally* nudged his friend back.
Jim fidgeted. "Cut it out, Sandburg." His tone was deadly.
A smile tugged at Blair's lips, but he held it at bay. *Is Jim ticklish?" He momentarily debated the wisdom of prodding his friend in his currently foul mood, but it was just too good a temptation to pass up. Besides, they both needed to unwind after the long week. At least, that's how he managed to justify tormenting his much larger roommate.
Jim glared at him and jabbed an elbow hard into his ribs. "Stop."
"Ow, man." Blair rubbed at his side and pinned Jim with an indignant gaze. "No need to get violent man."
Okay, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea to start messing with Jim.
"If you don't leave me alone, Chief, I'll show you violence."
Blair raised his eyebrows. "Fine." He shifted to look back at the TV. Seconds passed in silence.
Another nudge. Blair grinned like the Chesire cat.
"That does it." Jim scooted away from Blair and slapped his arm away. "You wanna end up handcuffed to the balcony?"
"Oooooh. Scary." Blair went for the kill, using both sets of fingers to needle Jim in the ribs.
"Cut it OUT!" Jim batted at the offending hands, scooting away until he was pressed against the arm of the couch.
"What's the matter, Jim? Ticklish?"
"Sandburg, I'm warning you..." He fidgeted, trying to twist away.
Blair slid forward, laughing like a mad man as he continued his assault.
"Stop it!" Jim shot off the couch, pushing Blair backward.
"Make me." Blair leapt off the cushions and lunged for Jim, but the older man dodged him.
"Will you quit it, Sandburg. I'm serious!"
"Ooooh." He dashed forward, but Jim outmaneuvered him. "C'mon, tough guy? You scared of a little guy like me?"
"I'm going to bust your skull open if you don't back off." Jim moved to the other side of the sofa, putting it between him and Sandburg.
Blair laughed and leaped over the back of the couch, in blatant violation of the houserules.
"SANDBUUURG!" Jim finally burst into laughter and took
off running, with Blair hot on his heels, chasing him round-and-round the sofa.