Notes: Thanks to Dawn C for her quick beta reading and help posting
to the newsgroup.
t had been a bad day. Nothing major, nothing life-threatening, not even really one thing Jim Ellison could point at and say "This ruined my day." No, it was a multitude of little things -- discovering that they were out of sugar AFTER he'd poured his coffee, realizing he had to stop for gas when he was already late for work, mislaying a report, slopping coffee on his jacket. Little things that might have slid by him on their own but, piled one on top of the other, combined to make one grumpy, cranky and pissed-off police detective.
His partner's apparent good mood didn't help. Because when Blair Sandburg was in a good mood, he bubbled, babbled and bounced, shining his annoyingly happy light all around him, like the bright light of an usher in a movie theater, blinding you just at the best part of the movie.
"So then I explained to him that it wasn't so much traditions as the rituals that had confused anthropologists for years and they...."
Jim interrupted the impromptu lecture by growling, "Were only just realizing that the two were completely different in the eyes of the tribe.... yeah, yeah , I know Sandburg, I've heard you give the lecture."
Sandburg turned in the seat to face Jim, who hadn't taken his eyes off the road. "You did?? When?"
"When I picked you up last week. I got here early and you were still teaching, so I listened."
"You listened?? Wow, that's great -- the parking lot has gotta be 75 yards from the building. Did you have any trouble filtering out the traffic or...."
Again Jim interrupted his friend. "Later, Brain, okay? I'm tired and don't feel like the usual crap tonight."
"Usual crap? What 'usual crap' would that be?" There was an edge to Blair's voice.
"You know, you do the educated scientist bit and I do the stupid research subject bit and you ask me endless questions and I try really hard to come up with answers that will satisfy you... I'm too tired. I don't want to play the game." He looked away from his driving for a second to glance at Blair, whose face held a stunned expression.
"Jim... um, what do you mean by 'the stupid research subject bit'?" Blair's voice was carefully neutral.
"You sit there and ask me question after question and half the time you don't even let me answer before you ask me another one! And a lot of the time, I don't really have answers to the questions you ask! And then you go off, explaining all these theories for the umpteenth time, like I didn't understand the first time you told me. I realize that you think of me as a caveman, but I'm really brighter than you give me credit for!" Jim's voice rose as he spoke until he was nearly shouting, biting the word of the last sentence off with a bitterness that left Blair's mouth open with disbelief.
"Hold it. You think that I think you are dumb? Is that what this is about?"
"Well, you make it pretty obvious, Chief. I mean, if I were smarter I could figure out this heightened senses stuff on my own, right?"
"Whoa, man! I never said that! I never even thought it! You remember what I told you that first day? That you're an organic crime lab? That should have told you right there what I thought!"
"Yeah, so? So my senses are sharper than anyone else's... what does that have to do with my brains... or lack of them?"
"Man, you are SO far off. Ok, think of it like this... your senses are like tools, instruments that you use to collect data. Take your hearing for instance. You could hear me give that lecture from 75 yards away. Did you use just your ears to do that?"
"Well, I certainly didn't use my eyes, Einstein!"
"No, but you did use your brain! Your sense are like hardware! They collect the data but they can't manipulate it or extrapolate information from it! You took the raw data from your ears and manipulated with your brain to filter out the traffic noises, the sounds that interfered with what you wanted to hear until you got exactly what you wanted. The hardware is useless without the software, man. And that's some pretty awesome software you have there -- you just haven't got a manual for it."
It was Jim's turn to look dumbfounded.
Blair continued, "The way I see it, if you had the senses without the intelligence, you wouldn't be a Sentinel... you'd just be someone with sharp senses. Without that software, you wouldn't be able to handle the data. You'd either go nuts or ignore the input without understanding what it meant. The way you take my suggestions and run with them -- that's incredible!! Half the time, I only have a vague idea what will help and you make it work. That's not ME that's YOU!"
"So, if we carry your little analogy further," Jim spoke slowly, "then you would be technical support?"
Blair broke into a smile... if Jim was making jokes, the worst was over. "That'd be me. You're lucky I don't charge $25 an hour to consult on the glitches, man."
"Yeah, I guess I am, Chief. " They exchanged grins and for the first time all day, the detective felt his mood lightening. The rest of the ride home passed in companionable silence.
*end*