Blair looked up to see Jim hopping down the stairs, one hand carrying his crutches and the other holding the railing for balance. "Hey Jim, it's about time you woke up. Those new pain killers that the doc gave you must actually be working."

Hopping off the bottom step and positioning his crutches under his arms, Jim ignored his roommate's comment and asked, "Sandburg, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Blair asked back as he pulled another shirt from the laundry basket and began to fold it.

"It LOOKS like you're doing laundry. But that can't be, because it's my turn to do laundry," Jim said sarcastically, as he hobbled over to the couch and sat down. He grabbed the next shirt from the basket and began to help fold.

"I know it's your turn. However, you'd probably try to do it by yourself anyway," the graduate student began in a lecturing tone. "Dispite the fact that you have a broken ankle and are on crutches. You'd take all day to get even one load done and grumble the entire time." He placed the now folded shirt on the growing stack and pulled out the Army sweatshirt and held it in his hand as he gestured at his roommate. "At the very least it would have taken all day and you'd be unbearable to live with. More than likely, you'd have taken another tumble down the stairs, just like you did the other day, and you'd end up hurting the other ankle. Which would of course leave me to explain to Simon why I allowed you to do something so insanely stupid. Either way, I'd still end up doing the laundry."

Resisting the urge to point out that he had help with his previous fall at the station, Jim grabbed the sweatshirt out of Blair's yielding hand as it passed by and began to fold it.

Paying no attention to Jim's actions, Blair continued his monologue. "So, I figured that since I have a few days off from classes, I'd just get it over with and save myself all the pain and suffering."

"Gee, Sandburg, you're all heart. Your concern for my wellfair is touching, and I'm sure Simon will appreciate the lack of additional paperwork as well. " Jim said as he gave the sweatshirt a final crease and placed it with the others on the coffee table. He waited until his roommate bent down to grab the last shirt from the basket, then reached out to tousel his friend's hair.

Blair quickly danced out of arm's reach and tossed the shirt at Jim. The detective reacted instinctivly and snatched the object out of the air, giving the smaller man the oportunity to grab the now empty basket.

"You know, you'd better be nice to me," Blair said as he headed for the door.

"Oh, and just why is that?" Jim asked.

"Because with that bum leg of yours, I'll be the one driving you around," the grad student replied with a mischievious smile and ducked out the door.

Jim contemplated tossing the shirt at the door, but ended up simply folding it, placing it with the rest, and then flipping channels.

By the time Blair returned, Jim had decided on a documentary about some archeological digs in South America.

"What's this?" the student asked.

"Believe it or not, it's the best thing on. I hate daytime TV," was the grumbled answer from the Sentinel.

Blair placed the now full basket in front of the couch and headed towards the kitchen. "No sports?"

"Afraid not, Chief."

"Well there's always the VCR and a movie," the grad student replied as he poured two cups of coffee and headed back towards the couch.

The two men soon settled down to watch TV and fold laundry. Despite teasing each other about their boxer shorts and Blair testing the Sentinel's skills at matching socks, they managed to finish the basket by the time the show was over.

Jim took advantage of the commercial break to visit the bathroom while Blair made another trip to the basement.

He returned to find Jim propped up at the counter making sandwiches.

"Turkey sandwiches okay with you?" Jim asked.

"Sounds good to me," Blair answered as he selected a well worn Lethel Weapon movie and placed it in the VCR.

"You're going to have to get the food, Chief," Jim said as he resumed his previous TV viewing position.

Blair didn't say a word as he collected the food, made a face at Jim's back, and joined his friend on the couch.

Jim grabbed a sandwich and cuffed his friend on the back of the head,

"Hey, what was that for?" Blair asked.

"The list is too long to recite. Just pick something."

Any further banter was interupted by the start of the movie. The detective simply gave his friend a knowing look and began folding towels.

The afternoon went by fast with the two friends watching TV and folding laundry.

They were three-quarters through the second Lethel Weapon film when the phone rang. Blair jumped up from the couch and grabbed it.

"Hello... Hi Simon... Nah, I'm keeping him out of trouble," Blair answered their friend's question, knowing that Jim was listening. "Well, I'll have to check my social calender..." he teased until a throw pillow from the couch sailed past his head. "Jim says he could eat. We'll be ready when you get here," he finished and hung up the phone.

Jim carefully stood up and stretched, using his crutches for balance. "Not a bad day's work wouldn't you say, Chief?"

Blair responded with an uncertain look.

"We spent a relaxing day watching television," the detective explained and began loading a laundry basket with several stacks of folded clothes, "and we got the laundry done. What could be better than that?"

The grad student opened his mouth to reply and was interupted.

"Ah ah, don't ruin it, Chief. Just go with it."

Accepting the basket and leading the way up the stairs, Blair just shook his head and chuckled at his friend's actions.