Disclaimer: I don't own Jim or Blair. I don't make any money from this, just the lovely comments from my readers ;-)
Jim walked into the loft to find his sick roommate curled up with the afghan on the couch. Considering that when he had left, Blair was still asleep in bed, with a large supply of orange juice, cough syrup, and Kleenexes within reach, this was a bit of an improvement. Blair obviously felt well enough to get up, shower, and get dressed, so hopefully he was on the mend.
Jim put the groceries away, began heating up some soup for dinner and then went to wake Blair up.
"Hey, Chief," Jim said softly as he checked his guide for a fever. "It's time to wake up."
A smile crept across the Sentinel's face when he heard a soft moan announcing that Blair would soon be awake.
"Jim?" Blair reached out from under the afghan to rub his eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine." Jim couldn't help but chuckle at his friend. "I see you were well enough to find your way out to the couch. Do you feel up for some soup?"
"Yeah, I think I could do soup," Blair replied as he shuffled after Jim into the kitchen.
Blair sat at the table, completing the process of waking up, while Jim dished up two bowls of soup and got the crackers out of the cupboard.
Jim was about to start in on his soup when he noticed what Blair was wearing. "Sandburg, is that my old Army sweatshirt you're wearing?"
Blair looked down at the shirt he was wearing for a few moments as he formulated an answer. "Um, yeah, I guess it is. I mean I don't have an Army sweatshirt. I was never in the Army. You were. So, I guess yeah, it is your Army sweatshirt." The words rushed out and ended with a cough.
The older man just sat quietly and ate a couple spoonfuls of soup before replying. "Is there a particular reason why you are wearing my old Army sweatshirt?"
The younger man shrugged as he swallowed a mouthful of soup as a delay tactic. "I guess I wasn't paying attention this morning when I was getting dressed and just grabbed the first thing I found in the laundry basket. Sorry I didn't get around to folding the laundry. I was going to do that, but I guess I fell asleep. I'll go change and you can have your shirt back." Blair started to get up from the table, but sat back down when he started coughing again. He just hoped that Jim didn't notice the lie or at least attributed his accelerated heart rate to the coughs. He really didn't want to explain the real reason why he had dug for the sweatshirt at the bottom of the basket
Jim jumped up and rubbed Blair's back until the coughing eased. "Don't worry about the shirt. You've already got it on. It's no big deal." Jim just stood behind his best friend and kept rubbing his back, using the action as an excuse to hide the goofy grin that he suddenly found on his face.
*
A week later, Blair came home after working late in his office, trying
to catch up on the work he'd missed while out sick. Jim had left dinner
warming in the oven and the light on over the stove when he went to bed.
Blair quietly ate dinner and quickly ran through his nightly routine in
the bathroom. After double-checking that the loft was secure for the night,
he entered his room to find that Jim had placed several piles of freshly
laundered and folded clothes on his bed. As Blair put the clothes away,
he noticed a particular old Army sweatshirt placed between his favorite
plaid flannel and CPD sweatshirt. For a brief moment he thought that Jim
must have gotten their laundry mixed up. The thought of mentioning it to
Jim lasted all of half a second and was quickly squashed. There was a goofy
grin on his face as he reasoned to himself that he didn't want to embarrass
Jim by pointing out the mistake. Jim would probably just say it was an
accident anyway.
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