Panic Attack

Disclaimer: They are not mine, I do not get paid! Yadda, yadda, yadda.

I wrote this at 2:30 in the morning, the day after Thanksgiving. So if this sounds a little crazy, blame it on the turkey and the Mop-n-Glo fumes. (I just did the kitchen floor.) Monica always wants to see if Sharon has anything new posted. This has become a nightly question. ( Sharon....You have created a monster. You must keep writing to feed her growing appetite.) This little piece was written just for fun. (No ill will was intended.) I don't think the fact that I am PMS'n had anything to do with it, considering no one died. Monica has needed some cheering up lately....her job has really got her down. She came over, all depressed, the other night, and I remembered that I had down loaded Spatial Properties. Well I knew the story would brighten her up a bit. Before the night was over with, she had read all four chapters, and a few more of Sharon's other stories that I had downloaded as well. I am hoping that this will perk her up too!!! I thought it would be funny to have the characters acknowledge the writer, sort of like, in the cartoons, when Daffy Duck talks to the cartoonist??? (I love that one)

This story is dedicated to my sister Monica, and Sharon, her favorite Fan fictionist.

Oh yeah...and I ate the rest of her Nutter Butter cookies while doing this. I hope she will forgive me! :o

Thanks Denise ^..^

"Calm down Sandburg!" Jim urged, under his breath.

"But Jim ... She's staring at me." Blair said nervously, while pacing behind the couch where Jim was sitting.

"I see that. But your pacing is only making it worse."

"Jim .... This is like *so* freakin' me out man. Distract her or something, while I run and hide."

"I really don't think that will work Chief."

"Why not?"

"Have you forgotten that her sister is writing this? Monica has cruel ways of getting information from Denise. It would be just a matter of time before Monica found out where you were hiding."

Blair panicked. "But why is she looking at me like that?"

Blair was referring to Monica, who, by the way, was sitting on the love seat. Monica's dark brown eyes were following Blair's every move.

"See what I mean man? .... She looks like a cat on the prowl. Oh man ..... What if she decides to pounce?" Blair's eyes darted , from Jim to Monica,and back again. "Come on Jim, we have to do something." Blair continued his pacing, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"She likes to read stories off of the web." Jim offered.

"Great! I'll go and get my laptop." Blair ran into his room to retrieve the computer.

Monica suddenly became uneasy. Jim tried to reassure her. "It's okay ... He will be right back."

Monica looked at Jim with sad puppy like eyes. His heart melted. What should I do? Should I try to make her happy? Even if that means that Blair may be tortured or shot? Should I put Blair at risk just to satisfy her need for owieisums? Or should I protect Blair. After all, there are so many stories out there right now that contain owies. At least Denise lets us have fun ..... Lord knows we need it. She even *almost* let me have sex that one time. That's closer than I have been in a while. Jim's thoughts were broken by a soft whimper that came from the sofa to his left. "It's okay .... Don't worry." Jim shot a glance over his shoulder. Then slightly miffed, he yelled, "Get a move on Sandburg! She's getting restless." Jim heard a soft curse come from the young man, then Blair appeared in the doorway, looking somewhat sheepish.

"I had hoped that she would forget about me."

"Yeah, right Cheif. Keep on dreamin' "

Blair shot a helpless and somewhat hopeless glance at Jim, that begged for help.

"Just get the computer set up, okay?" Jim prodded the young man into action.

Blair moved quickly, to get the computer operational. Plugging it in, running the line to the telephone jack, logging onto AOL, then finally onto Guide Posts. He felt warm, moist air on his shoulder. Blair looked around to see Monica peering over his shoulder and he jumped. "Don't do that!" He exclaimed. Then he looked at Jim, who was now trying to suppress a grin. "Thanks for the warning *Pal*!" Blair glared at the older man.

Jim threw his hands in the air, in mock helplessness. Blair shook his head, turning his attention back to the computer screen. He clicked on the *What's New* button and waited patiently as the screen loaded. All of a sudden, he exclaimed. "What is this crap! .... A word from our sponsors .... What is Geocities doing now!" He could tell that Monica was growing impatient. "Shhhh, it will only take a minute." He soothed. Monica gently pulled a chair up next to Blair at the dining table, and laid her head on his shoulder. Her dark brown hair tickled his neck and he could smell the fruity essence of her shampoo. This kid is really sweet ... but she needs to stay away from *those* stories. Why do people like them so much? I just don't get it. I get shot, or run down by a car, and women swoon. Drool buckets appear out of nowhere, if Jim comforts me. I wish they would learn to control those things! I almost tripped over the bucket, that someone left out the other night. Probably Wendy's .... Brenda's .... or maybe Vickies', she has been laid up with a bum knee. I told her Roller Hockey is bad for her....but did she listen? No. What do I know? I'm just a dumb anthropologist, a boy toy, something for those *fan fic writers* to torture each week. How do they know so much about me and Jim anyway? It's like they are watching us or something. Blair looked around the room, suddenly paranoid that he was being watched somehow. Monica tapped lightly on his shoulder and pointed to the screen. The advertisement had disappeared and the *What's New* list had replaced it. Blair scrolled down the page. "See anything?" Monica shook her head. "Whom do you like?" He asked looking at her. She flashed her big brown eyes at him, batting her eyelashes, and grinning mischievously. "No, I mean which writers do you like?"

"Sharon." She said innocently.

Blair's eyes widened. His heart began to beat just a little too fast. Jim could sense his young friends distress, and rushed to his aid.

"It's okay Blair. Calm down .... Breath for me Chief."

"Jim? ..." Blair said weakly, trying to find the strength to continue. "She said .... Sharon." The mere mention of her name, seemed to drain all of the energy he had.

"It's just a story Chief." Jim attempted to comfort his guide, but then suddenly regretted his last remark.

"*Just* a story? Oh ... that is *so* easy for you to say. How many times have you been shot Jim? How many evil relatives have come out of the wood work to put an end to your life? How many times have you been in a coma?" At some point Blair had jumped out of his seat, leaving an astonished and unhappy Monica behind, and had begun pacing again like a caged animal. His hands were gesturing wildly as he spoke. His blue eyes glared at Jim at the end of each question. "How many times have you tried to commit suicide Jim? Have you ever had brain damage? It's not fun man! And you sit there and tell me *It's just a story* . That is *so* not fair man. I vote for equal time. I think that she should let you go through some of that. Let me be the hero. I can do guilt! Watch! " He pulled his chair away from Monica and then sat down. He took her hand carefully in his. She lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh ... Jim .... please don't die. I should have been there for you man. You can't leave me. What would I do without you? I need you. You're my Blessed Protector man, who will watch out for me? Simon? No. He will probably be one of the ones out to get me, if you aren't around. This is all my fault .... If I hadn't insisted on going back into the health food store for more bean sprouts ...... Is Denise laughing? I swear I hear someone laughing. I'm so sorry Jim ... God, I am so sorry. Please ... if you let him live, I won't embellish so much. I'll use the proper laundry hampers. He's my best friend. You can't take him .... Please God, don't take Jim." Blair was shaking his head. He slowly looked back at Jim. Tears were streaking down Blair's face. Jim turned away and silently wiped away his own threatening tears. "See I can do guilt! Why won't she let me do some guilt!" Blair was throwing a tantrum now. Something caught his attention from underneath the table. Monica's feet were rubbing together. "Um .... Jim? Why is she doing that?" He asked while pointing to her feet.

I think it has something to do with anticipation Blair. I have seen it before, in people who just couldn't wait for more. I think owieisums are like a drug for her." Jim took a closer look at Monica. "I think she is going through withdrawal Chief. You had better find her a story quick. I have seen this type of withdrawal before, and it ain't a pretty sight."

"But Sharon?" Blair's eyes pleaded *don't make me do this....please*. "I know Blair...but she really needs it. Look at her. She has had it really tough the last few days. I think she needs a quick fix."

Blair's eyes almost burned through Jim. "Quick fix? Jim these are chapters! Books! Are listening to me man? Quick fix indeed. If she needs a quick fix, let her read some of those *smarmy thingies*." Blair pouted.

"I thought you liked smarm. Okay so maybe quick fix was not the best description"

"Duh."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Blair...she is hurting. She really needs it. Look, we will try to get her some professional help or something. I think the Betty Ford clinic has opened up a new wing, just for this sort of thing. They will try to gradually get her off of the owie stories. I know it will be hard, but it can be done." Jim was behind Blair now, gently rubbing the young mans shoulders.

Blair looked at the young lady in front of him. He knew that Jim was right. "You know what will happen when she reads it, right? I mean, it will happen all over again. It will hurt so much."

"I'll be there for you Chief."

"I know." Blair thought for a moment. " I know Sharon is a good kid and all .... and sometimes stuff happens, and she just can't control herself anymore ..... I know that she vents through us, and it's usually her damn publisher that gets her in a bad mood. I'll tell you one thing .... If they don't give the girl a break, I may have to go postal."

Jim looked down at Blair. He couldn't believe that this was coming from someone who hated violence.

"... and you're right, it only hurts for just a little while. Unless she kills me. Oh God .... I can't let her read that story, I have a date tonight. Umm maybe we can find another one." Blair focused on the computer. He clicked on one of Sharon's newer stories, knowing that it would consist of multiple parts. Monica won't be able to read it all tonight. Jim will kick her skinny butt out of the loft by ten. He's not as nice as Denise, when it comes to computer time. No late night pecking on the keyboard around here. He smiled. At least I can make my date tonight. Wolfpup's page slowly loaded. "Hey Jim? How did this person get all of these pictures of us?"

Jim peered over Blair's shoulder. "I don't know .... But I will definitely talk to Simon about it in the morning. I may run a background check on this Wolfpup, just to see if anything comes up." Jim made a mental note of it, as Blair nodded in agreement.

Blair clicked on the Fanfic link, and waited. Another Geocities ad popped up. Blair cursed silently as he waited the ten seconds that it took for the ad to disappear and the fanfic menu to appear. He clicked on Spatial Properties. Monica's eyes were wide with anticipation. Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. She repeated her silent mantra, as the story loaded. As the story filled the screen, Blair looked at Monica. Her eyes were transfixed on the opening lines of the story. Man, I wish I had that effect on women.

It was almost 9:40. Blair hoped that nothing would happen in the next twenty minutes. He hoped that Sharon would use the first chapter to set the story in motion, and that it would be like the second or third chapter before anything bad happened. He really wanted this date. He had been waiting weeks for this to happen. "Okay Jim, she leaves at 10:00. Right?"

Jim nodded

"Good."

Blair paced around the table, watching Monica's expressions. "Oh man! Jim come here. She's drooling. I can't believe this." Blair grabbed a dish towel from the kitchen, and began to wiped the table off. "Hey Jim? Hand me that bucket, would ja?" He asked, pointing to the bucket sitting on the table by the front door. " I knew this would come in handy." Blair carefully placed the bucket underneath Monica's mesmerized face. "This is too soon man .... She hasn't even made it through the first few paragraphs. Oh man ... I don't feel so good Jim! Make her stop man!" Blair was pleading with Jim now.

Jim looked at the clock. Ten on the button. His head was throbbing terribly. "Come on sweetheart .... let me turn this off. You have to go home now." He could have sworn he heard an evil growl come from the girl. "Okay .... If you act like that you won't be able to finish." He was amazed at the change that came over her. Her face was suddenly sweet and angelic.

"Okay." She said softly, as she stood up, softly stroking the computer. "Until tomorrow."

Blair whirled around. If the way he was feeling was any indication as to where the story was heading, he was beginning to have second thoughts. "Umm ...That may not be possible. Jim and I have a stakeout tomorrow night. Right Jim?" He shot Jim a quick glance.

Jim was at the front door, holding it open for the young lady. "Yeah, I think you're right Blair." Jim was having second thoughts too. His head was really pounding. And even though the computer had been turned off, his vision still had not cleared. "I'll tell you what .... We will call you when we think we will be home long enough for you to finish the story .... Okay?"

Monica looked back at Blair who was disconnecting the computer, and grinning smugly. Then she looked back at Jim, who, for some reason, was feeling slightly concussed. "Okay, I guess ...... Hug???"

Jim couldn't resist her eyes. She was six feet tall so he didn't have to bend over too much to give her a hug. That feels so nice.

She walked over to Blair and gave him a big hug too, and a quick peck on the cheek. Blair blushed. Monica skipped out of the loft. Jim thought that he heard her saying something. He cocked his head sideways allowing his hearing to reach out to the elevator, and was shocked at what he heard.

"I wonder if Nesie will be up for a buddy tomorrow night. I just have to finish that story! EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" Jim's eyes were filled with terror. Anything that made Monica squeal like that, could not be too good for Sandburg's health. He was suddenly worried for his partner.

Blair noticed that Jim was concentrating on something, and then Jim's facial expression changed dramatically. "What? What is it, Jim? Did she say something?"

"Yeah, she said enjoy your date." Jim hated to lie to the kid. But he figured that this would probably be the last date that the kid would go on for a while, so he may as well enjoy it. He decided to change the subject. "That was awfully nice of Denise to write in a hug for us. Don't you think?" Jim asked, as he straightened the table, picking up the drool bucket and wondering what he should do with it.

"Yeah. But look man ... I think she gave me a hug burn." Blair was tugging at the collar of his brown plaid flannel shirt. "See that red mark? Now how am I suppose to explain that to Nancy?" Jim grinned evilly. "I think it will be a lot easier to explain than the red lipstick on your face."

"Oh man ...You're kidding me, right? I'll never get this off. This stuff stains sooo bad. This like *so* totally sucks man!" Jim couldn't help but grin, as Blair rubbed frantically at the lipstick. He removed the lipstick, but his face was so irritated by the action, that it looked worse now than it had with the lipstick. Jim shook his head, while he rinsed the bucket out in the sink and placed it underneath the cabinet for safe keeping.

"I have the greatest idea! Why don't we write Guide Posts and ask them to disable all links to Wolfpup's page."

"I don't think that would be such a good idea Chief."

"No, you're right. Maybe we could get those nice little archive elves to talk to Dae. She might be able to get something special going ...." Blair stood there, for a moment, eyes closed in concentration. " You know ... like get people to write stories on special topics. Umm, with no owies."

"I believe you are referring to a smarm challenge ... She already does that."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Okay, what about a challenge where ... lets say I am cute and innocent. You know, a sweet cuddly kind of thing. We can get the hardware store down the street to stock up on buckets ... you never know, we may even make a little commission off of the extra sales!" Blair wiggled his brows at the older man.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. What ever Chief." Jim paused for a moment, and then continued. "Blair...I think you really should try to get use to the fact that there will always be owie stories. There are more writers coming on board everyday, with fresh new ideas."

Blair looked at Jim coldly. "You mean new torture!" Blair began to pace frantically again. "At least Denise doesn't write owies!" Blair whimpered.

"I hate to tell you this Cheif....But I have heard rumors." Jim winced a little, as he admitted this to Blair.

Blair froze briefly and his eyes widened. " Oh no....Not her too!" He began to pace again.

Jim walked up to Blair, blocking his path. Blair turned to face Jim and Jim placed two strong, reassuring hands on Blair's shoulders. Partly to comfort the young man, but mostly to keep him in one place so Jim could talk to him.

"Look, I know it's tough, but we have always managed to see it through together, haven't we?"

"I have been killed a few times Jim." Blair said sadly, looking at the floor.

Jim brought Blair's head up, with a gentle hand beneath his chin. "I know .... But those times are few and far between. Yes, you do get hurt, but am I not there for you? I will always be there for you. You are my best friend ... my brother. I would die for you ... you know that, right?" Jim searched the young man's eyes for the answer, and finally Blair nodded. "Good. Come here." Jim pulled Blair into a nice, warm embrace.

Blair allowed the warmth of Jim's body and words to envelop him. He felt so safe, and he knew that he wanted to feel this way forever.

"I love you Blair."

Blair panicked. Oh no. We aren't getting into the slash thing are we? Blair wiggled out of Jim's grip. "Hey man .... I've got a date ... and ummm .... I really need to get going." Blair ran to the front door, and grabbed his coat off of its hook. He looked back at Jim, as he opened the front door. "I love you too man!" He grinned sheepishly as he left the loft.

Jim stood alone in the loft. He was surrounded by silence and astonishment. He knew he was merely a puppet, and Denise was the master. When I told Blair that I loved him, I thought she was doing it to get some sort of funny reaction out of the kid. I'm not saying that I just said it to be saying it. I do love the kid in a brotherly kind of way. But Denise turned the tables on me. I'm the one who is shocked. Blair loves me. I never thought that I would hear him say it. A warm fuzzy feeling came over him. A smile etched its way across his normally stoic face. He walked around the loft, turning out the lights and locking up for the night. He was suddenly tired. He had a lot to think about, but his eyes felt so heavy. He climbed the stairs to his room, undressed, and flopped himself onto his bed. It was warm in the loft, so he didn't bother with the covers. He silently thanked God for all that he had in his life, and for whatever the future held. Sleep came quickly.

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