Miracles upon miracles!! Terrijo wrote a short fic!! Head for the hills!! She concocted this in a chat the other night and let me post it here with my other Sweatshirt stories. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Neither Teej, or I own Jim or Blair. Sam belongs to Terrijo. The sweatshirt is something that my sister, the Army Sergeant, is going to get me one of these days.



The Multiverse Sweatshirt: The Grease Rag (by Terrijo)

 

Sam had dived into the engine compartment of the Sundogs in the rain, trying to fix the motor and came out covered in grease. Her cousin, Blair was waiting at the slip, when she finally made it into port. When he saw what she was wearing he nearly exploded.

"What the hell do you think you're doing wearing my clothes!"

"I was trying to fix the damn engine!"

"In THAT shirt!?"

"It's just an old Sweatshirt..."

"JUST an old Sweatshirt!"

"You left it here! It started raining, I had engine trouble and I needed something to wear down there!"

"But not in THAT shirt! For cryin' out loud it's covered in grease!"

"Engine's are greasy, a**hole!"

Jim can hear both cousins going at it clear from the parking lot of the marina, without trying.

He was endlessly amused until he saw what Sam was wearing...

"Hey! That's MY shirt!"

Sam rolls her eyes "Oh for crying out loud!"

"It's covered with grease!"

"She used it man, not me!"

"HE left it here!"

Both cousins were pointing at each other...

"Do you know how long I've had that shirt?!" Jim cuffed Blair across the back of his head...

"Hey!"

"I'm NOT apologizing for trying to fix my engine!" Sam's hands waved ala Blair.

"Who said you could borrow my Shirt?"

"Hey! I had to have something casual to wear out here when it gets cold..."

"Sandburg, You're always cold! "

"He's a damned ice cube that's why!"

"And what the hell were you thinking wearing it down in the hold?"

"That's what I wanted to know!"

"Oh for .... It's a just a SWEATSHIRT!!" Sam peeled it off and threw it at Jim, who caught it and looked in dismay at the grease marks.

He slapped it into Blair's chest. "You're washing it..."

"What!?"

"You heard me..."

"What is so damned significant about that shirt?!" Sam demanded, fists on hips...

Jim just shot her a blue eyed glare. "Spray and Wash Gel, Sandburg, gets everything out," he growled.

Blair looked from his partner to his cousin. The air was suddenly so thick he could cut it. "Uh gee, thanks for the tip Mr. Maytag."

"That shirt..." Jim started to growl.

"I could care less about your shirt! I had an engine go out as I was trying to make my way through Deception Pass! I wasn't thinking about your damned SHIRT!"

"No! You weren't thinking at all!"

"I didn't even know it was yours! I thought it was his and HE left it here!"

Jim's gaze swiveled around. Blair stood, like a deer in the headlights, clutching the shirt to his chest.

"Why did you have my shirt?"

"Uhh...."

"If you'll excuse me..." Sam said sarcastically. "I've got a hold to pump out and a fouled intake to clean. Pass Island has way too much kelp around it!"

With that, Sam turned on her heel, muttering profanity under her breath and disappeared into the cabin. Blair looked at Jim, who was still glaring at him.

"Wouldn't Woolite work a little better on stains?"

A steady rain began to fall, both men and the Sweatshirt now getting wet...

"Get in the truck, Sandburg," Jim growled, dropping his shoulders in defeat. "You've got laundry duty today anyway..."


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