shirt fic!
Jul. 24th, 2006 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eliyesThis was only intended to be a little thing to toss at the end of an email to amuse the recipient, but it grew. So, I'm posting it here, too.
Title: Shirt dance
Series: The Sentinel
Word count: 638
Rating: PG for country lyrics, but feel free to waggle your eyebrows
Note: ...I can't remember who the heck that song is by.
Jim covered his face with one hand and grinned as Blair sang lustily into a hair brush. Sang *country*, no less -- but with a lilt, not a twang, and a lot of whole-body movement that threatened to knock the tape-and-paper stetson off his head.
"When you walk in -- with legs up to your neck!
When you walk in, I'm a physical wreck!
When you walked in, I lost my cool, babe
But what'd you expect?
When you walk in, baby love begins.
When you walk by, baby, ooh my my!
When you come around,
My jaw hits the ground!
When you shake your thing
I jump out of my skin.
When you cross the floor
I scream, 'More, baby, more!'
When you flash your smile,
You drive me wild!
Yeah!"
Jim peeked through his fingers at Blair, now down on his knees not three feet away, both arms held over his head. Around them, the bullpen erupted into wild applause. Blair got to his feet and made several extravagant, hat-doffing bows, panting a bit. The hat did not survive this, and was soon dropped and trampled by the various laughing police officers crowding close to clap Blair on the shoulder.
"Now there's a man who loses a bet with verve!" Rafe exclaimed, flushed with laughter.
"Do you line dance, too, Sandy?" Meghan asked, which lead to yet more hilarity as Blair did a quick maneuver in what space he had.
"All right, all right, break it up," Simon called, waving people back to their desks. "Last I checked, this was a police station." He made his way through the dispersing crowd to Blair and shook his head. "Sandburg, you're disruptive," he said, but he was smiling.
"But good for morale?" Blair suggested, with a bounce and a smile. Simon waved and walked back into his office, chuckling.
Blair looked at Jim.
Jim was still fighting laughter, the back of one hand pressed over his lips as he practically hugged himself, perched on the edge of his desk. But his shoulders were quivering and the lines around his eyes were speaking volumes about his amusement at the whole thing. Blair sidled closer, tucking his hands in his pockets.
"Jim?"
"God!" Jim blurted out with a laugh. Blair lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Not bad, huh?"
" 'Legs up to your neck'?" Jim repeated incredulously.
"Hey, that's the lyric!" Blair protested.
Jim took a deep breath and then crossed his arms and legs, pinning Blair with an amused look.
"What in the world made you make a bet with Rafe with that kind of payoff?"
Blair grinned.
"I'll tell you later what he would have had to do if I'd won."
"What was the bet, anyway? Or do I wanna know?"
Blair shrugged.
"Rafe bet I couldn't go a whole month without wearing one of your shirts," he admitted. Jim blinked, and then shifted, eyeing him.
"...I'll be damned. I didn't even notice that was mine." He snorted his amusement, leaning forward. "And how long did you last?"
"Two weeks, four days!" Blair grinned again, and Jim rolled his eyes.
"And should I expect a floorshow every time you fall behind on your laundry?"
"Uh, no." Blair laughed. "I think Simon would kill me."
"Probably. All right, Chief, let's go get some lunch." Jim pushed off from the desk and gave Blair's arm a friendly pat. "I'm sure you're hungry from all that effort."
They discussed where they should have lunch and grabbed their coats. As Jim was shrugging into his jacket, Blair suddenly grabbed his shirt collar.
"Hey!"
"Hey yourself! What?"
"I don't believe this," Blair said, starting to laugh again. "Hey, Rafe! C'mere!"
Rafe strode over, face almost as puzzled as Jim's.
"Yeah?"
Blair pointed at Jim.
"He's wearing one of my T-shirts!"
Title: Shirt dance
Series: The Sentinel
Word count: 638
Rating: PG for country lyrics, but feel free to waggle your eyebrows
Note: ...I can't remember who the heck that song is by.
Jim covered his face with one hand and grinned as Blair sang lustily into a hair brush. Sang *country*, no less -- but with a lilt, not a twang, and a lot of whole-body movement that threatened to knock the tape-and-paper stetson off his head.
"When you walk in -- with legs up to your neck!
When you walk in, I'm a physical wreck!
When you walked in, I lost my cool, babe
But what'd you expect?
When you walk in, baby love begins.
When you walk by, baby, ooh my my!
When you come around,
My jaw hits the ground!
When you shake your thing
I jump out of my skin.
When you cross the floor
I scream, 'More, baby, more!'
When you flash your smile,
You drive me wild!
Yeah!"
Jim peeked through his fingers at Blair, now down on his knees not three feet away, both arms held over his head. Around them, the bullpen erupted into wild applause. Blair got to his feet and made several extravagant, hat-doffing bows, panting a bit. The hat did not survive this, and was soon dropped and trampled by the various laughing police officers crowding close to clap Blair on the shoulder.
"Now there's a man who loses a bet with verve!" Rafe exclaimed, flushed with laughter.
"Do you line dance, too, Sandy?" Meghan asked, which lead to yet more hilarity as Blair did a quick maneuver in what space he had.
"All right, all right, break it up," Simon called, waving people back to their desks. "Last I checked, this was a police station." He made his way through the dispersing crowd to Blair and shook his head. "Sandburg, you're disruptive," he said, but he was smiling.
"But good for morale?" Blair suggested, with a bounce and a smile. Simon waved and walked back into his office, chuckling.
Blair looked at Jim.
Jim was still fighting laughter, the back of one hand pressed over his lips as he practically hugged himself, perched on the edge of his desk. But his shoulders were quivering and the lines around his eyes were speaking volumes about his amusement at the whole thing. Blair sidled closer, tucking his hands in his pockets.
"Jim?"
"God!" Jim blurted out with a laugh. Blair lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Not bad, huh?"
" 'Legs up to your neck'?" Jim repeated incredulously.
"Hey, that's the lyric!" Blair protested.
Jim took a deep breath and then crossed his arms and legs, pinning Blair with an amused look.
"What in the world made you make a bet with Rafe with that kind of payoff?"
Blair grinned.
"I'll tell you later what he would have had to do if I'd won."
"What was the bet, anyway? Or do I wanna know?"
Blair shrugged.
"Rafe bet I couldn't go a whole month without wearing one of your shirts," he admitted. Jim blinked, and then shifted, eyeing him.
"...I'll be damned. I didn't even notice that was mine." He snorted his amusement, leaning forward. "And how long did you last?"
"Two weeks, four days!" Blair grinned again, and Jim rolled his eyes.
"And should I expect a floorshow every time you fall behind on your laundry?"
"Uh, no." Blair laughed. "I think Simon would kill me."
"Probably. All right, Chief, let's go get some lunch." Jim pushed off from the desk and gave Blair's arm a friendly pat. "I'm sure you're hungry from all that effort."
They discussed where they should have lunch and grabbed their coats. As Jim was shrugging into his jacket, Blair suddenly grabbed his shirt collar.
"Hey!"
"Hey yourself! What?"
"I don't believe this," Blair said, starting to laugh again. "Hey, Rafe! C'mere!"
Rafe strode over, face almost as puzzled as Jim's.
"Yeah?"
Blair pointed at Jim.
"He's wearing one of my T-shirts!"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-24 05:07 pm (UTC)Whee! This is cute. I can just see Blair milking his 'loser's' performance for all it's worth. I love Jim's recognition of, 'with a lilt, not a twang'. And the kicker is delightful. (I always wondered why Jim's T-shirts fit him soooo closely.)
Very well done. And, based on this snippet, I'd say you need have no qualms about writing TS fic; you have a keen eye and a deft way with description.
Welcome to the fandom.
.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-26 01:58 am (UTC)I have a theory about Blair's clothes, that a lot were damaged in the warehouse explosion, and that his waredrobe was out-dated anyway what with the brightly coloured and patched things we see him in before the explosion, especially the pilot, which were more 80s than mid 90s. It would be easy for him to have fallen behind the trends if he was out on expeditions as much as he seems to have been. I think the sudden infusion of plaid into his life was from Jim charity. After all, Jim has a lot of plaid shirts for camping and fishing and such, and seemed to be into them even in his Vice days, so he probably just went into his storage and hauled out a box of shirts and such he hadn't worn recently and said 'if any of this fits and you want it, feel free'. Blair probably accepted his new 'grunge' look with grace as an ironic nod to why he had to replac ehis wardrobe in the first place....
Welcome to the fandom.
Thanks! :D