A Little Sense-Work
by Swellison

Blair Sandburg placed another stack of textbooks on the table. He sighed, pushing a few strands of loose hair back with his hand as he searched the Anthropology Library for an empty shipping box. Damn, I've used them all, he realized, seeing only book-filled boxes on the tables and chairs around him, with a few left on the floor. Each full box had the proper paperwork and inventory sheets lying on top of its neatly packed books. Sandburg had been busy in the four hours he'd been working. That's me, at my peak efficiency when operating under the gun, er deadline.

Sandburg took a second look around the library, counting seventeen boxes of packed books. He measured the textbooks stacked on top of the checkout counter and estimated he needed three more boxes to get them all packed. He walked over to the end of the counter and picked up one of the flattened, prefolded cardboard boxes leaning against the counter's side. Taking the box back to the nearest table, he unfolded it into a rectangular frame then folded the flaps down, first top and bottom, then left and right sides to form the bottom of the box. Resting his right arm on the box to keep the flaps down, he grabbed a wide roll of packing tape from the table. Holding the two inch-wide roll of clear tape between both hands, he slowly rotated the tape, searching with his thumbs and eyes for the almost invisible line demarking the start of the tape. He scrolled through the roll three full turns, failing to find the dratted tape end. Where's Jim when I really need him?

The library door was flung open and Jim Ellison strode in, immediately spotting Sandburg at the front of the room. "Sandburg!"

Speak of the Sentinel, Blair smiled. "Jim! Man, am I glad you're here."

"Your message said 'Meet me at the anthro library ASAP', which is a little cryptic -- not to mention short-- for you. What's going on?" Jim reflexively swept his eyes over the grad student. Blair appeared perfectly normal in his blue jeans, tank top and blue plaid overshirt.

"What's it look like?" Blair gestured impatiently at the boxes surrounding him. "I'm packing a shipment of books."

"Why?"

"Rainier's doing a textbook swap with Hobart College's anthropology department this term, on a trial basis. The books were supposed to go out this morning, but I talked the UPS guy into picking them up at nine tonight, just under an hour from now."

"That's your emergency?" Jim asked, annoyed.

"Emergency? I never said it was an emergency situation."

"Your message said 'as soon as possible'. In my book, that's darn close to an emergency."

"Sorry, Jim. Guess I haven't been hanging with you long enough to know all the nuances of your cop lingo. 'As soon as possible' means 'emergency situation', got it. I won't make that mistake again."

"Uh huh." Jim stared at the still-open boxes of books then glanced at the clock on the wall. "UPS is arriving at nine? That's cutting it kind of close, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Blair continued to search for the elusive tape end. "I was planning on doing this last night, but we had that all-night stakeout instead."

Jim stepped over to the anthropologist, took the tape roll from Blair's grasp, and immediately located the tape end. He pulled off a piece, eyeballing the box to determine the required length, picked up the scissors from Blair's table and cut the tape. Sandburg shifted his hold on the box to its edges, pressing in and down on the flaps so that they met in the middle of the box, leaving no gap between the flap ends. Jim applied the strip of tape evenly down the middle, smoothly sealing the bottom seam. Since the box was going to hold books, he reinforced the seam with another band of packing tape.

"You should've said you were busy last night, Sandburg. I could've handled the stakeout alone."

Blair flipped the box over and roughly slammed the first five books inside it. "No, you couldn't! Alone on a boring stakeout, just watching and waiting, I think there's a higher-than-normal chance of you zoning under those conditions. I was exactly where I should've been last night--with you." He thumped another stack of books into the box for emphasis.

"Nothing happened last night," Jim reminded him.

"That's because I was there," Blair countered. "We don't know what would have or could have happened if you were alone." He took a deep breath, "It's only been three weeks since you zoned out on that bridge, man. I don't know if having a recent zone-out makes you more susceptible to future zone-outs or not; Burton pretty much glossed over the whole subject. We really need to test--"

"No," Jim said firmly, temporarily overlooking the fact that he had found Sandburg's light and music experiment damned useful when he'd been hanging from the underside of that night train.

"I can't think of a way to test that hypothesis in the lab anyway," Blair continued as if Jim hadn't interrupted. "The only thing I can do is continue to observe you until something triggers the next zone-out, then I can compare the contributing factors to each zone."

"Doesn't that sound cozy," Jim muttered under his breath.

Blair grabbed an invoice and put it on top of the just-filled box of books, then folded the top flaps down. Jim began dispensing more tape and Blair noticed the lines of tension on the older man's face. "You can relax, Jim," he sealed the box, which was now ready to go except for its address label. "That means no testing in the foreseeable future."

"I know that, and I am relaxed."

"Oh really?" Blair's expressive eyes widened in disbelief, "You could've fooled me."

"I woke up about seven-thirty, saw your note and got here as fast as I could. I feel like a fireman who responds to a call, expecting a housefire, but arriving to find only a cat stuck in a tree. Kind of a letdown, you know?"

"Adrenaline rush." Blair walked over to the counter and picked up another unmade box. You thought I needed help so you came hightailing over here, in full Blessed Protector mode.

"No--not really," Jim said as he watched Sandburg put together a new box. Jim cut another perfectly-measured strip of tape off the roll and taped the bottom of the box closed.

"Not really?" Sandburg flipped the box over and began filling it with books. What does that mean? What was I just thinking, full Blessed Protector mode -all five senses heightened and alert for trouble... Not an adrenaline rush, a senses rush. Blair mulled over when Jim had been using his senses with one part of his mind, while he stepped over to the end of the counter and retrieved the last unmade box. Jim seems to only really use his senses when he has to, when he's on a case. Maybe that's one reason he's so down on testing them? He's hoarding them for work... Sandburg placed the box on the table and started assembling it, noticing how rapidly Jim handed him the needed pieces of tape. "Jim, have you been to the eye doctor since your senses kicked back in?"

"No," Jim answered cautiously after a pause, not sure where this change in topics was heading.

"Well, you really need to go, everyone should have an annual eye checkup."

"Ah, I thought the doctor might notice some abnormality about my vision."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Jim. Reading the bottom line on the eye chart'll be a cinch for you and the doctor will conclude that you have slightly better than perfect vision, say 20/5 or 20/0. They don't test for anything better than that."

"But won't the doctor see my pupils dilate when I'm reading the bottom line and wonder what's going on?"

"No, because you won't need to kick into hypersensitive vision to read the bottom line on the eye chart."

"You lost me there, Chief."

"You'll be able to read the lowest line on the eye chart with your 'normal' vision."

"How d'you know that?"

Blair grinned. "From observing you. You're at normal vision now, right?"

"Yes."

"Actually, you're at slightly better than perfect vision," As Jim started to speak, Blair said, "I can tell that by the way you're handling the packing tape."

Jim's puzzled gaze shifted from the roll of tape in his hand to his Guide. "You've lost me again, Darwin."

"Every time you cut the tape, you've found the tape end almost immediately. I have to scan the roll close up, while scrolling the tape through my fingers - sometimes two or more times- before I can see where the tape begins. And that's not just me - that's almost every person who has ever wrapped a package for shipping. It's one of life's little annoyances that you just have to put up with. Only you don't. You can find the start of the roll just by looking at the tape, because your vision is slightly better than 20/20." Blair's hands rose excitedly. "Which is great, man! It means you've accepted your heightened senses as natural, and have, albeit unconsciously, shifted your 'normal' range up a notch to compensate. Since you're doing it with your sight, it's reasonable to assume that you've done it with the rest of your senses as well.

"This also means that your senses don't operate on an 'all or nothing' scale, and you don't have to save them just for casework."

"I - I don't."

"Don't what, Jim?"

"I don't just use my heightened senses for work."

"That's right; you occasionally use them in my lab tests and pop quizzes."

"I use them at home," Jim said softly. "I listen to your heartbeat, especially at night." He glanced at the floor, noticing the minute grains of dust trapped between the slats of the hardwood floor. "It's the last thing I hear before falling asleep."

Sandburg tapped Jim's shoulder and the detective looked up. "The last thing? Like I'm your nightlight?" Blair's eyes sparkled with pleasure. "That's so cool, man."

"Yes, it is," Jim agreed quietly, relieved that Sandburg hadn't teased him about his little admission. "Now, let's get these boxes sealed. We've got fifteen minutes before your UPS guy gets here - and then we can go home, Chief."

"I am down with that!" Blair agreed happily.

The End