Sentinel fic 1/1
For Day 13 of consci_fan_mo I give you a Sentinel ficlet set in the same 'verse as Shaman You, which if you haven't read the bit you need to know about involved Harry Dresden teaching Blair to be a better shaman.
Jim/Blair but G rated.
Option A
Blair sat huddled in a blanket and shivering as Jim hunkered over a pile of kindling with his old Army-issue tinderbox. They were on a fishing trip and everything was going well until they’d got caught in a sudden downpour of Biblical proportions and were both soaked to the skin.
They’d changed clothes as quickly as possible and the rain had stopped as suddenly as it had come so they were now trying to get a fire going to warm the chill from their bones. It was not going well.
“I know of other ways to warm up,” Blair suggested.
“I’ve almost got it,” Jim replied “Besides, I’m way too old to be making out on a groundsheet.”
Blair snickered affectionately.
“You could have brought a lighter. But no, ‘I’m Jim Ellison, I don’t need fancy new-fangled camping technology. In the Rangers we only had a twig and two stones to make a fire,” Blair mocked in a passable impression of Jim.
“In the pouring rain,” Jim added with a grin.
After what felt like the millionth attempt to get the kindling to light, Blair threw off his blanket and stood up.
“Get out of the way,” he ordered. Jim looked up at him in surprise as he marched over to the fire to be.
“You’re going to light it when I failed?”
“Just get out of the way,” Blair insisted so Jim raised his hands in surrender and stepped back.
Blair kneeled down, closed his eyes and with arms outstretched he began to murmur soft words. After a moment or two, the fire sputtered into life, a small flame at first that then caught and spread quickly until there was a roaring bonfire in front of him. Blair then collapsed back into a sitting position and took a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Jim queried.
“Harry taught me a few things before he left. The potential for fire is there, you just have to find the right words to ask the wood nicely,” Blair explained casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“If you knew you could do that, why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because it drains me,” Blair answered as he got to his feet. “I won’t be fit for anything now for the rest of the day. But I’d rather be exhausted than freeze to death.”
Blair walked over to the tent, wrapped his blanket back around him and resumed his original sitting position. He grinned at the expression on Jim’s face that was a mix of surprise, anger and disappointment and said,
“Betcha wish you’d taken option A now.”
Jim/Blair but G rated.
Option A
Blair sat huddled in a blanket and shivering as Jim hunkered over a pile of kindling with his old Army-issue tinderbox. They were on a fishing trip and everything was going well until they’d got caught in a sudden downpour of Biblical proportions and were both soaked to the skin.
They’d changed clothes as quickly as possible and the rain had stopped as suddenly as it had come so they were now trying to get a fire going to warm the chill from their bones. It was not going well.
“I know of other ways to warm up,” Blair suggested.
“I’ve almost got it,” Jim replied “Besides, I’m way too old to be making out on a groundsheet.”
Blair snickered affectionately.
“You could have brought a lighter. But no, ‘I’m Jim Ellison, I don’t need fancy new-fangled camping technology. In the Rangers we only had a twig and two stones to make a fire,” Blair mocked in a passable impression of Jim.
“In the pouring rain,” Jim added with a grin.
After what felt like the millionth attempt to get the kindling to light, Blair threw off his blanket and stood up.
“Get out of the way,” he ordered. Jim looked up at him in surprise as he marched over to the fire to be.
“You’re going to light it when I failed?”
“Just get out of the way,” Blair insisted so Jim raised his hands in surrender and stepped back.
Blair kneeled down, closed his eyes and with arms outstretched he began to murmur soft words. After a moment or two, the fire sputtered into life, a small flame at first that then caught and spread quickly until there was a roaring bonfire in front of him. Blair then collapsed back into a sitting position and took a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Jim queried.
“Harry taught me a few things before he left. The potential for fire is there, you just have to find the right words to ask the wood nicely,” Blair explained casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“If you knew you could do that, why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because it drains me,” Blair answered as he got to his feet. “I won’t be fit for anything now for the rest of the day. But I’d rather be exhausted than freeze to death.”
Blair walked over to the tent, wrapped his blanket back around him and resumed his original sitting position. He grinned at the expression on Jim’s face that was a mix of surprise, anger and disappointment and said,
“Betcha wish you’d taken option A now.”