* * * * *
“All done?” Jim asked as he retrieved two beers from the fridge and crossed the room. He stood before Blair, holding out the frosty bottle. Blair didn’t raise his face, and after a moment the sentinel gently rapped the base of the bottle against the curl-covered head.
“Wha...?” Blair started, sitting up. His dazed look was replaced by one of extreme gratitude, and he smiled up at his best friend as he took the beer from the large hand. “Thanks, man. How’d you know I wanted a brew?” He popped the cap off the bottle with a hiss, and let the cool, bubbly liquid pour down his throat. “Ohhh yes,” he sighed blissfully, then belched.
Jim watched the ritual with a grin. He couldn’t resist reaching down and tousling the dark curls before taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch from Blair. As soon as he sat down, Blair popped up and crossed to his bedroom. Ellison turned to watch him go, curious, and scowled when he noticed the haphazard stack of exam books and bottle cap littering his coffee table.
“Sandburg, when are you going to learn to clean up after yourself?” Jim groused good-naturedly. He picked up the exams and bottle cap, placed the books in Blair’s backpack, and the bottle cap in the trash. When he returned to the couch, Blair was holding a videotape in one hand and reading a card with the other.
“To Blair and Jim, with love, from Megan,” Sandburg read aloud. “Thought you blokes would get a kick out of this.” The young man cocked an eyebrow and looked toward his roommate. Then he studied the tape’s label.
“What is it?” Jim asked, leaning forward to take the card. Megan had recently visited her father back home in Australia, and had brought gifts for everyone in Major Crimes. His and Blair’s souvenir was a homemade videotape.
“The Adventures of Stoppit and Tidyup,” read Sandburg. He turned the tape over, looking for more information, but there was none to be found. With a sigh he turned to Jim again and held up the tape, angling his head toward the waiting VCR. “Shall we?”
“Go for it,” Ellison returned, taking another swig of beer. He watched his partner pop the tape into the machine and turn on the TV, adjusting the volume and color. As Blair sat back ,the screen of the TV came alive with colors, and tinny music blared from the speakers. Jim winced and grabbed the remote, turning the sound down to a bearable level.
“This is Stoppit!” said the British narrator. A little ball of red fluff with hands and feet appeared on the screen. “And this is his best friend, Tidyup!” A larger, purple, two legged creature in a flamboyant tie walked onscreen, smiling.
“Sandburg, what the hell....?” Jim began. Then he stared as Stoppit went into action. His mouth slowly dropped open as the little ball of hair began bouncing madly about the screen, doing circles around the perplexed Tidyup, chattering non-stop in some odd, fast-paced unknown language. Tidyup watched the jabbering little guy with what could only be described as tolerant amusement.
“Stoppit is always bouncing, and always talking. He sometimes annoys his friend Tidyup. but they are still the best friends that can be. Even though Tidyup doesn’t always understand what Stoppit is babbling about.” The British voice droned on as the animated creatures continued to frolic.
“Oh my God, Chief,” Jim sputtered, choking on his swallow of beer. “It’s YOU!” The sentinel rolled back against the couch cushions and began to laugh. Then he looked again from the ball of fuzz on the screen to his partner, and the laugh turned into a howl. The big man was totally lost, free hand pounding his thigh, large feet drumming helplessly on the floor in time with his guffaws.
“All right, it’s a little funny,” Blair muttered, folding his arms across his chest. “Megan just couldn’t resist I guess.” He watched as Stoppit began bouncing off Tidyup’s back, still chittering in his incoherent Alvin The Chipmunk-esque voice. “I don’t see why you guys always have to make me the brunt of your jokes,” he sulked. “I mean, I don’t....” Just then, Tidyup turned and pile-drove Stoppit to the ground with one large purple fist.
/THUD/ “Tidyup, on the other hand, is not bouncy and noisy. Tidyup is VERY VERY NEAT.”
Now it was Blair’s turn to stare. He watched with a growing smile as the screen showed scene of Tidyup washing his collection of neckties, working in his garden, cleaning his little house.
“Tidyup always wants everything to be Just So,” the tape drawled. “He is very neat, not at all like his friend Stoppit.” With that, Stoppit bounced into the picture and abruptly knocked over one of Tidyup’s houseplants. The little fuzzball never even slowed down, just kept bouncing and gibbering. Tidyup glowered at the little red creature, grinding his teeth.
“WHOOP!” Blair hooted, quickly setting his beer down on the coffee table. He laid back and chortled with merriment, one hand pointing at his roommate, and then at the screen. He sat up and tried to speak, but was overcome by mirth again.
Ellison had stopped laughing. He was glaring at the TV, wondering what he had found funny about this tape before. With a frown, he picked up the remote and stopped the annoying cartoon.
Blair recovered enough to notice his roommate’s actions. “Jim, what’s the matter?” he asked, sitting up.
“I don’t want to watch anymore, Chief. It’s just a stupid kid’s show.” The sentinel returned the remote to its place on the table and picked up the evening paper. He buried his face behind the sports section to avoid any further conversation from his roommate.
Blair looked from the paper to the black TV set, head cocked to the side curiously. “Jim? It was funny, really funny! How come you don’t wanna watch it?” He scooted closer to the big man, reaching one hand to tug the paper down. “Are you mad?”
“No.”
“C’mon man, you laughed at me first!”
“Sandburg, let go of my paper,” Jim ordered quietly, trying to pull the page away. Blair didn’t let go. Rather, he tugged it toward himself a little. Ellison glanced up and saw the barely-hidden smirk on his friend’s face. Realizing he was being baited, he promptly ignored his partner.
Blair saw Jim put up the ‘I have no interest in what you’re doing’ face. He responded by tugging harder on the paper. Ellison tugged back, sharply, and there was an ominous ripping sound. Both men’s jaws dropped at the sight of the corner of newspaper clutched in Blair’s fingers.
“Oh Jim,” Sandburg stammered, trying not to laugh. “I am SO sorry, man!” He jumped as Ellison snatched the piece of torn paper from his hand. Then he watched the big man cross to the kitchen drawer and pull out a roll of scotch tape.
Ellison returned with the tape and spread the ruined page out on the coffee table. Then, with great care and precision, he laid the ripped corner in place and tore off a strip of tape. Using sentinel vision, he lined the jagged edges up perfectly, then applied the tape. He smoothed it out, flattening every bubble and crease, then turned the whole project over and did the same to the other side.
“/Snerk/.”
Jim ignored the rude noise behind his back as he finished repairing his paper. He leaned forward and spread his hands across the page, smoothing it over.
“Heehee.”
This time the big man sighed, and looked over his shoulder. Blair was half-reclined on the couch, both hands pressed over his mouth, eyes bulging as he tried not to laugh.
“Did you have a comment to make, Blair?” Ellison asked pleasantly, turning back to his newspaper.
“/Snerk/ Nope!” Blair chirped. “Actually I think I may turn in early tonight.” The young man stood up and stretched, bouncing on his toes. He started to turn toward his room, and paused. Did he dare? One last jib? Would Ellison let him live? Probably not, but then Sandburg had become used to courting danger. “You sure you don’t want me to help you tidy...up?”
With a growl, Jim turned and grabbed him. The young man was so surprised he didn’t even have time to move, let alone escape. He yelped as his partner seized him by the waist and flung him down on the couch. Then he stared up in disbelief as the sentinel pounced on him, sitting on his hips and effectively pinning him there. He sneered down at his loftmate.
Blair saw the evil in his friend’s eyes, and knew he was in deep trouble. “Jim, what are you...HEYYY!!!!” His inquiry turned into squeals of laughter as claw-like fingers attacked his ribs. He pushed helplessly at the quick digits, trying to get a purchase. But the larger man was too fast, too strong. The young Shaman could do nothing but lay there and laugh.
Ellison grinned down at his partner, continuing to rake his ribs and belly while steadfastly ignoring Blair’s pleas. He kept at it, tickling up and down Sandburg’s ribcage, then up under the arms, then back down to the belly again, moving too quickly for Blair’s hands to follow.
“St...stoppit!” Blair gasped, begging. “Jim...please...stoppit! I c..c..heeheehee! I can’t breathe! Please, st...HAHAHA...STOPPIT!” Blair gave up the fight after a few minutes and just laughed, writhing and twisting under the assault. He began to hiccup. “Please Jim...HIC....Stoppit!”
“Nuh uh, Blair!” Jim sang. He began tickling again. “I’m Tidyup!”