Endurance, page 3
There had been groans of disgust at the volume of reading on the study list, but another grin from the youngest competitor had them gritting their teeth. Jim had ushered them out the door with a promise to call when Blair decided to retire for the night, or if he elected to have a midnight snack. A bag of microwave popcorn was consumed at 11:30, but light's out hadn't arrived until shortly after 2:00 Tuesday morning.
Three hours later Jim had hauled himself out of bed when he heard the tapping of Blair's laptop keys. He'd made the necessary phone calls to alert the rest of the group and to set the day's schedule before crawling into the shower. Two more hours of studying had followed. Breakfast had consisted of a bowl of cereal, milk, juice and an orange. Blair had chuckled at the bloodshot eyes and frequent yawns of the older men, but had refrained from making any comments.
Day two had been executed at an even faster pace than day one -- classes, meetings, office hours, more meetings, trips to the depths of the library and then finally back to the loft for light dinner once again. Joel had given up the game at that point, claiming that he couldn't survive on the amount of food that the anthropologist didn't eat. He'd slapped the grad student on the back, wished him well and headed off for dinner at his favorite steak house.
Brown had succumbed the next day. Loud snores had abruptly filled the air in the middle of one of Blair's lectures. The anthropologist had apologized to the class for the excess noise coming from the third row and continued his presentation. The remaining three contestants had exchanged grins and settled firmly into the uncomfortable seats, each certain that they'd be the last one standing.
Day four had found them revising that smug estimation. They were bleary, tired and cranky. One look at Blair as he'd bounced out of his bedroom, as charged with energy as ever and Jim was sure he'd have to shift into 'Blessed Protector' mode to keep Rafe and Simon from killing his Guide before the day was over.
By Friday morning, the writing on the wall was clear -- Blair had hit his stride and was going to outdistance them all. They'd made it through to the early afternoon lecture, but Rafe's defeat a few minutes earlier and the look on Simon's face had sealed their fate. Jim relaxed and let the pain of his headache and stiff muscles subside. If he never sat in one of the torture devices the university passed off for chairs, or attended one more faculty meeting, he would die a happy man.
The Sentinel heard the soft rustle of papers and books as the students around them dispersed and opened his eyes to see the anxious face of his Guide.
"I'm calling this off, Jim," he said softly. "I'll concede."
"Why?" the detective asked in shocked amazement.
"I never should have made that bet with you," Blair murmured. "I want you to turn down the dials now. I know you've got a headache, man. I could see the pain in your eyes from across the room."
"Blair..."
"No stupid contest is worth seeing you this uncomfortable, Jim. Just consider the trash already on the way to the dumpster."
"Sandburg, will you be quiet for a minute?" Jim growled. He reached out to touch his Guide's arm. "The headache's almost gone. The dials are already turned down. "
"They are? When did you..."
"Just a few minutes ago. I bow to your superior endurance, oh masterly one," Jim intoned with a grin. "Just don't ever ask me to spend the week with you again unless we're on a case or camping."
Blair stared at him doubtfully for a moment, then started to smile. He glanced over at Simon and the grin widened as he waved his hand in front of the older man's face. Banks never blinked.
"I think I just heard him say, 'Uncle', Chief," the Sentinel smirked. "Congratulations."
His Guide's brilliant smile and laugh soothed away the last of the Sentinel's discomfort.
END
Author's Final Notes: Okay, so this was a teaser at the beginning, but it all worked out well by the end, now didn't it? ~g~ No real owies, no damage to the boys, and a whole lot of smarm.
Comments? Please e-mail me at kdkm@aol.com. Thanks!
K Ryn, Endurance
