|
Cold Medicine
Summary: Blair has a cold. Notes/Warnings: For Hillsvillet, who requested some h/c fic. Consider this a missing scene to Cold Season. First posted to the CascadeTimes List. Rated G. Disclaimer: Not mine. Written strictly for fun. Cough. Thump. Cough. Sniffle. Jim opened one bleary eye. Despite the darkness he turned his head to squint at the small clock on his night stand. One o'clock A.M. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his face. Down below he heard Blair shift restlessly on his futon. Minutes later, the blankets were flung aside and he heard the mattress creak as his roommate stood up and padded out into the living room. He shuffled slowly across the hardwood floor, trying his best to move quietly through the darkened loft. Jim heard the faint sound of a hand patting the rough surface of the wall for guidance. "Sandburg," he finally called out, "turn the damn light on before you break your neck." There was a faint gasp of surprise followed by a low, raspy, "Okay." A few seconds later he heard a click. Soft light filled the room below him as he continued to track his partner into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was opened and he heard a carton slide out and the contents poured into a cup. Judging from the sound of sloshing liquid, there didn't seem to be much left. Next, a cupboard was opened. Blair rummaged around, picked something up and shook it. Empty. There was a small sigh and the door was gently closed. With a resigned grunt, Jim shoved his covers aside and rose from his bed. Ignoring the chill in the air, he grabbed the sweater hanging from the back of the chair by his desk and donned it over his tee shirt. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and some socks, grabbed a pair of boots and descended down the stairs. His guide looked up, startled, as he clomped by the kitchen. Looking as faded as the sweatshirt and pants he wore, Blair stood next to the sink, arms folded against his chest. His nose was red and chafed. Every breath he took had a slight rattle to it. Jim walked over to the dining table, pulled out a chair and sat down. Bending over, he shoved a foot into a boot and laced it up. Blair eyed him cautiously. "Where are you going?" "To the store." "At this hour?" Jim stood up and went to grab the green parka off the hook on the wall. "Yup." Blair looked up guiltily. "Hey, you don't have to go, man. It's pretty cold out there." "Well, we're out of orange juice and tea. And at the rate you've been going, we're probably low on tissues, too. Might as well go now. I won't be able to get to the store tomorrow." "You really don't have to go to all this trouble..." He stopped as Jim's finger poked him lightly in the chest. "Go lie down, Chief. I'll be back before you know it. Besides, the sooner you're better, the sooner I can get some uninterrupted sleep." He turned and picked up his keys from the basket by the door. "What about those tablets you've been taking?" "Huh? Oh, you mean the zinc? I think there's one left." Jim paused to put a cap on his head and stuff his leather gloves in a pocket. "So, which flavor should I get? Cherry or grape?" Blair smiled back. "Either one's fine." He watched as Jim stepped into the hallway and closed the door firmly behind him. He shuffled over to the couch, sat down and leaned back. Grabbing the afghan, he draped it over his shoulders. "Thanks, man," he murmured softly. "No one's ever looked out for me the way you do." Inside his truck, Jim waited for the engine to warm up. "You're welcome, partner," he answered, "any time." *~The End ~* Comments welcomed. AutumnSkies1@aol.com |