![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sealieBut Jim was tired, exhausted even. He cupped the whisky glass in one palm and used his free hand to rub his face. “Sandburg… “ He pulled out all the stops, playing the ‘first name’ card. “…Blair, I’m wiped out. Please, can we do this later?”
Blair’s offensive attack crumpled. “You do look tired.” He leaned forward and did the classic palm on the forehead temperature check. “I wish you’d let me call a doctor.”
“I just need some sleep.” Jim finished his whisky.
Blair took Jim’s glass and stood. “What if you start sleep walking again? You coulda fallen down those stairs. No, Jim, leave them. I’ll clean up.”
Jim dropped the damp clothes. Clutching the towels around his body he headed for the staircase. “Thanks, Chief. I’ll be fine. No more sleepwalking.” He heard Blair’s soft reply at the top of the staircase, just as he entered his room.
“We’re still talking about this tomorrow, Ellison.”
******************
The sun had climbed half way toward mid day by the time Jim woke. He felt good, refreshed even, the events of last night a distant memory, diluted by practical reasoning. Gathering up his shower supplies and donning a robe, he found Blair in the professor’s tiny study off the living room. He was sitting in front of a computer screen, back curled as he scribbled in a note book, his attention split between the text and his own notes. A plate littered with toast crumbs and a large cup of coffee sat near one elbow.
“Morning.”
Blair sat up in surprise. “Jim! You’re up How you feeling?”
“Good, I’m hungry though. I’ll grab a shower. Then what do you say to a hearty breakfast?”
“Sure.” Blair folded his notebook closed before navigating the computer through the shut down procedure. “I already called Mr. Coates; we can go back to the Keep today. They’re working on the main exhibit, but the catacomb should be empty.”
Oh, joy. Jim headed for the postage-sized bathroom. Closing the door and hanging his robe on a convenient hook, he set his soap, shampoo and shower gel on the edge of the tub. Thick towels hung on the rack. Blair had managed to replace the ones they’d used last night during their nocturnal wanderings. Stepping over the tub’s rim and drawing the clear curtain around him, Jim turned the handle for the hot water.
Blair’s startled voice called from the other room. “Oh, Jim, I forgot to warn you about the hot water!”
Blair’s offensive attack crumpled. “You do look tired.” He leaned forward and did the classic palm on the forehead temperature check. “I wish you’d let me call a doctor.”
“I just need some sleep.” Jim finished his whisky.
Blair took Jim’s glass and stood. “What if you start sleep walking again? You coulda fallen down those stairs. No, Jim, leave them. I’ll clean up.”
Jim dropped the damp clothes. Clutching the towels around his body he headed for the staircase. “Thanks, Chief. I’ll be fine. No more sleepwalking.” He heard Blair’s soft reply at the top of the staircase, just as he entered his room.
“We’re still talking about this tomorrow, Ellison.”
******************
The sun had climbed half way toward mid day by the time Jim woke. He felt good, refreshed even, the events of last night a distant memory, diluted by practical reasoning. Gathering up his shower supplies and donning a robe, he found Blair in the professor’s tiny study off the living room. He was sitting in front of a computer screen, back curled as he scribbled in a note book, his attention split between the text and his own notes. A plate littered with toast crumbs and a large cup of coffee sat near one elbow.
“Morning.”
Blair sat up in surprise. “Jim! You’re up How you feeling?”
“Good, I’m hungry though. I’ll grab a shower. Then what do you say to a hearty breakfast?”
“Sure.” Blair folded his notebook closed before navigating the computer through the shut down procedure. “I already called Mr. Coates; we can go back to the Keep today. They’re working on the main exhibit, but the catacomb should be empty.”
Oh, joy. Jim headed for the postage-sized bathroom. Closing the door and hanging his robe on a convenient hook, he set his soap, shampoo and shower gel on the edge of the tub. Thick towels hung on the rack. Blair had managed to replace the ones they’d used last night during their nocturnal wanderings. Stepping over the tub’s rim and drawing the clear curtain around him, Jim turned the handle for the hot water.
Blair’s startled voice called from the other room. “Oh, Jim, I forgot to warn you about the hot water!”
