Disclaimer: I don’t claim to own anyone. Blair and Jim belong to Pet Fly Productions and Paramount. I’m just playing with them.

Blair Sandburg groaned as he stared at the blank computer screen. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No ideas. Not a sentence; not a word. He had no idea how to begin this thesis. Sure, he had all of his notes in front of him, and he knew his subject inside and out. But still nothing came. In frustration, his head dropped onto the coffee table.

“What’s wrong, Chief?” Blair looked up to see his roommate, and the subject of his thesis, saunter into the living room. On the outside, Jim Ellison looked like your normal, handsome, everyday detective. But Blair knew his Sentinel secret.

Sighing, Blair indicated his laptop. “I’m blocked, man. Can’t think of any way to start this paper.”

Jim bit into an apple as he sat down in the chair beside the irritated anthropologist. “How about ‘Once upon a time’?” he chuckled.

Blair glared at him over the top of his glasses. “Funny, man.” He looked back at the blank screen. “It’s got to be serious. The introduction has to explain what I’m trying to do and catch the reader’s attention.”

“I still vote for ‘Once upon a time’.”

“Thanks for the support, man.”

“Anytime.” Jim took another bite of his apple. Chewing on it thoughtfully, he tossed out another idea. “How about ‘There once was a Sentinel named Jim’.”

This time, Blair couldn’t help but laugh. “All right, you need to stop.”

Jim’s face took on a look of innocence. “What? I’m trying to help.”

Shaking his head, Blair kept his blue eyes on his computer. Some idea, any idea. All he needed was a starting point.

“Sandburg! Is that a footprint on my coffee table?” Jim’s irked voice broke the silence again.

Blair peered at the spot in question. “I don’t see a footprint. I think you’re imagining things, man.”

Grumbling, Jim stood up and walked into the kitchen. When he came back, he tossed a paper towel at his curly-haired roommate. “You clean it up.”

Catching the paper towel, Blair rolled his eyes and wiped at the spot. After a few minutes, he submitted it for approval. “Did I get it?”

Jim sat down and glanced at it. “Yeah.” He sat back in the chair, looking satisfied. “No more feet on the table, Chief.”

Laughing, Blair once again turned his attention back to his thesis. Finally, a small idea appeared through the fog. Quickly, he began to type.

“It’s one thing to study a Sentinel, but living with one is a whole different story…”


© 2003 Crimson Idealist