[personal profile] starwatcher_fic
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Title: Personality Questionnaire
Summary: Jim and Blair answer a few questions.
Style: Gen
Size: 1580 words, about 4 pages
Warnings: Tongue-in-cheek and all-in-fun.
Notes: June, 2005. Unintentional collaboration between Sally M and StarWatcher
Feedback: Not necessary, but every comment is treasured.
Email: If you prefer not to post a note that everybody can see, you can reach me at starwatcher -at- dreamwidth.org. You can leave Sally M a private message at her livejournal, or give feedback under her original post.





Personality Questionnaire

by Blair Sandburg,
as transcribed by Sally M.





Name the last four things you bought? A packet of giant leather needles, padded cufflinks, three jars of industrial-strength motor oil and a CD of meditation music combining hand-made bagpipes, didgeridoos, sitars, and seven different tribal drums. Great stuff. It's for a test I've thought up for Jim's senses, so not a word to him, right? 'Cause it's all in the interests of science...

Name four drinks you regularly drink? Chamomile tea, echinacea tea, lemon, ginger and rosehip tea, and double-choc malted milkshakes from WonderBurger (his fault, he's the one who drags us there five times a month...)

Last time you cried? Maya, and I don't want to talk about it... Or was it after volunteering to taste Megan's chili chicken, when she lost count of the chilies? Don't want to talk about that, either.

What's in your CD player? The CD of meditation music - Jim'll love all those tribal drums, I know he will. Though I'm not so sure about the neighbors...

What's under your bed? Everything Jim told me to get out of the living room or he was gonna toss last week.

What time did you wake up today? Forty minutes after I should have, and twenty after Jim threatened to put ice down my neck.

Current hair? I'm still not cutting it, man...

Current clothes? What's wrong with sixteen-shades-of-blue-and-green-and-purple flannel?

Current desktop picture? That photo from Burton's book of a sentinel - with Jim's head photoshopped onto it. Just till he finds out...

Current worry? That Jim will find out about the tests I want to do with the needles, the cufflinks and the motor oil before I've managed to work out how to talk him into it.

Current hate? Hate is bad, man, hate is bad karma and will always come back to bite you on the backside. My Mom taught me not to hate. Though the postcards she sends, care of the bullpen, to "dearest baby Blair" aren't doing a lot to reinforce the message.

Favorite place to be? The loft. Or the library. I'm trying to talk Jim into less furniture and more bookshelves to turn the loft into a library.

Least favorite place? Anywhere between when I jumped from the plane and I hit the ground. I have got to stop doing things like that... eventually.

If you could play an instrument, what would it be? Hey, I play guitar (don't listen to what Simon says about my playing). What I'd like is a snake charmers' flute, but I've been told what will happen if I bring it into the loft...

Favorite color(s)? The ones my Sentinel can see and no one else can.

How tall are you? Don't listen to the guys at the bullpen - I am not short.

Where would you like to go? The village in Peru that Jim was with for all those months. Hey, or Disneyland (a Sentinel dealing with all that stimulus would be the grandest set of tests to end all tests, don't you think? All in the interests of...)

Favorite food? My mom's recipe for boiled tongue is the best, man, but I'm all for trying different ways to cook it... Jim says I'll bring jellied tongue into the loft over his - or my - dead body, but I'll talk him round.

Color of most clothes you own? Come on, having clothes in one color is so drab, don't you think?

Number of pillows you sleep with? I think I've got seven now, does it count when they all end up on the floor?

What do you wear when you go to sleep? Boxers and t-shirt now. Used to be nothing but sweet fresh air, but we have this problem of unexpected and unwelcome visitors before I make it out of bed.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Trying to persuade my Sentinel that old Mrs-Donatello-Down-the-Road's-New-Boyfriend's snoring is not grounds for a police raid.

How old will you be in ten years? Sorry. My Mom is totally relaxed about ageing, says it's all a state of mind and you're only as young as the young man you're feeling (I wish she wouldn't say that in front of Jim and Simon) but she'll admit to a thirty-plus-year-old son when the Pagan Underworld freezes over...

What do you think you'll be doing in ten years? Trying to convince my Mom that a frozen Pagan Underworld is not some sort of sinister corporate Wonderland, still trying to convince Simon that 'observing' does involve undercover work and shootouts and all that, and still trying to get Jim to take the damn test with the needles, the cufflinks and all that.

Are you paranoid? Nahhh, bad karma. Jim's the one they're all out to get - I'm just easier for them to get first.

Do you burn or tan? Both at once. Megan says it's multi-tasking. Simon says it's typical. Jim just stocks up on the sunscreen.

What is the brand of your wallet? It's made by Peruvian artisans living on mountaintops from woven llama wool and the leather tanned with wild dog urine and native plants. For some reason, Jim hates it.

First piercing/tattoo? The navel ring that Jim doesn't know about yet.

Last person you yelled at? Jim. And he started it.

Last thing you ate? Crocodile con queso (Marietta Suellen's recipe, very healthy and natural and no I haven't told Jim what the main ingredient was) followed by Megan's fifty-third attempt at her mother's lamington recipe.

Last time you had sex? Three hours ago, actually, on the library roof of the East Cascade Catholic Seminary while we (me and Marietta Suellen) were waiting for a rescue from the lunatic seminary-invaders from the Cascade branch of Beelzebub's Brotherhood (membership of eight and one half-wit). We needed to keep warm... Hey, it could happen to anyone...






Personality Questionnaire

by Jim Ellison,
as transcribed by StarWatcher





Name the last four things you bought? Package of white socks, package of T-shirts, four quarts of oil, oil filter for Sandburg's car. Hey, if I help keep that heap of his running, I won't have to rescue him so often when it breaks down again.

Name four drinks you regularly drink? Coffee, water, beer, coffee. It's the only way to get through late-night stakeouts.

Last time you cried? Men don't cry.

What's in your CD player? Santana. Unless Sandburg snuck some of his aboriginal caterwauling in there.

What's under your bed? The floor.

What time did you wake up today? 6:30. Plenty of time for both of us to shower, dress, eat, and get to work on time, if Sandburg will just get his butt out of bed the first time I call him.

Current hair? Short. What's it to you?

Current clothes? Trousers. Polo shirt. What do you care?

Current desktop picture? Don't need one. Computers are for using, not for looking pretty.

Current worry? That one of these times, I'll be too late getting to Sandburg when he's in trouble.

Current hate? These damned senses. Without them, I wouldn't be a freak, and Sandburg wouldn't be following me into danger.

Favorite place to be? Couch. Beer. Watching the Jags. With Sandburg.

Least favorite place? At the latest gory crime scene that violently demonstrates man's inhumanity to man. I don't tell Sandburg this, though; he thinks I don't let it bother me. I'll tell Sandburg my least favorite place is his rattrap of a bedroom.

If you could play an instrument, what would it be? I already play the drums, or did when I was young and foolish. That's enough.

Favorite color(s)? Who cares?

How tall are you? Taller than you.

Where would you like to go? Fishing. No other human within 20 miles, except Sandburg and Simon.

Favorite food? WonderBurger double-cheeseburger with bacon bits. My cholesterol is just fine, thank you.

Color of most clothes you own? Clothes-colored.

Number of pillows you sleep with? Two.

What do you wear when you go to sleep? Boxers. If someone breaks in during the night, at least I'm covered.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Waiting for Sandburg to get home from his latest date. I haven't told him that I don't sleep well until I know he's here, safe. With his penchant for finding trouble, not even dates can be considered 100% harmless.

How old will you be in ten years? Ten years older than now.

What do you think you'll be doing in ten years? Still a cop. Hopefully with these senses finally under control.

Are you paranoid? It's not paranoia when you know somebody's out there. I just hope the senses will give me enough of a warning that we can bug out in time. (Of course I'd take Sandburg with me; they might use him to get to me. He'd just try to follow, anyway, and probably lead them right to me, if I tried to make him stay behind.)

Do you burn or tan? Tan.

What is the brand of your wallet? Something Sandburg gave me; ostrich leather, I think.

First piercing/tattoo? In Vice, to go undercover. The holes have pretty much closed up by now. Sandburg doesn't know about the panther-head on my hip, that the Chopec gave me.

Last person you yelled at? Sandburg. I appreciate his backup, but dammit, it's not worth him putting himself in danger.

Last thing you ate? Something Sandburg concocted. I complained, of course, but it was actually pretty good.

Last time you had sex? None of your damn business.



The End






Edited to Add: Apparently, Blair wheedled and called in a favor to get the captain to fill out the same questionnaire. With [livejournal.com profile] roslynsmuse as transcriber, you can find Simon's answers here.


Edited to Add #2: Jim and Blair fill out a different questionnaire, together, which [livejournal.com profile] callistosh65 has transcribed. (very mild slash)






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