Disclaimer: Neither ferryboat George, or I own Jim or Blair. The Guest Star belongs to one of George's stories. The Sweatshirt is a figment of my imagination and belongs to whoever it was given to last.
Jim frowned at the old Army sweatshirt, lying in a lump on the couch.
*He should treat this better.*
He scooped it up to put it away, noticing a bump in the middle.
*Huh?*
He reached into the folds, pulling out... the duck.
"Sandburg!"
"Hey, the poor thing was cold."
the end
ferryboat George's fic - Sorry, her fic is currently homeless, but I'll put the link here when it's found a place.
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