#18 - Watching Him Sleep
Sep. 28th, 2009 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starwatcher_fic.
Title: Watching Him Sleep
Summary: Late-night thoughts after a difficult case.
Style: Gen
Size: 400 words, about 2/3 page in MS Word
Warnings: None
Notes: Written in October, 2004, for LJ challenge.
Feedback: Not necessary, but I 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
As I watch him sleep, I can't help thinking about our last case. He was incredible, using his senses like I always knew he could. But I didn't get to see it; I had to hear about it second-hand. I'm told he was in the groove, hitting on all eight cylinders; he found the tiniest bits of evidence with ease, and wove the pieces into the pattern that led the gang to the perp. Our friends are amazed and baffled, but willing to overlook the mystery, because when they found the perp, they rescued -- me.
He didn't sleep for three days. Now, he needs me in his senses and... I need him. When I startle awake from the memories, it's a comfort to see him so close. That's how tired he is -- my waking doesn't wake him, though I know that if I whispered his name, he'd be with me in an instant. So I watch him in the sleeping bag next to my bed, and listen to his quiet little snores, and I hold on to the certainty that kept me balanced for those terrible days. He found me. He'll always find me.
I love you, Jim.
As I watch him sleep, I can't help thinking about our last case. I was afraid I'd lose him forever. Thank God the senses worked like he always said they could -- feeding me all the information I needed, no zones or spikes however hard I pushed. The rest of Major Crimes helped, providing backup for the senses as well as more mundane detective work. There weren't too few clues, but too many; the man was masterful at planting red herrings. But we did it; unraveled the threads and followed them to the end. To Blair.
I don't want to let him farther away than arm's length; I can barely let him take a piss by himself. So here I am. The sleeping bag is comfortable enough, and I only have to open my eyes to see his face, battered but whole. Even before I look, I can hear him, scent him; his presence is the safety net for my very being. As I am his. I'll never forget the look of trust in his eyes, underlying the relief that we had arrived. He knew I'd find him.
I'll always find him. The alternative is unthinkable.
I love you, Blair.
The End
Author's Notes
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Title: Watching Him Sleep
Summary: Late-night thoughts after a difficult case.
Style: Gen
Size: 400 words, about 2/3 page in MS Word
Warnings: None
Notes: Written in October, 2004, for LJ challenge.
Feedback: Not necessary, but I 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
Watching Him Sleep
by StarWatcher
As I watch him sleep, I can't help thinking about our last case. He was incredible, using his senses like I always knew he could. But I didn't get to see it; I had to hear about it second-hand. I'm told he was in the groove, hitting on all eight cylinders; he found the tiniest bits of evidence with ease, and wove the pieces into the pattern that led the gang to the perp. Our friends are amazed and baffled, but willing to overlook the mystery, because when they found the perp, they rescued -- me.
He didn't sleep for three days. Now, he needs me in his senses and... I need him. When I startle awake from the memories, it's a comfort to see him so close. That's how tired he is -- my waking doesn't wake him, though I know that if I whispered his name, he'd be with me in an instant. So I watch him in the sleeping bag next to my bed, and listen to his quiet little snores, and I hold on to the certainty that kept me balanced for those terrible days. He found me. He'll always find me.
I love you, Jim.
As I watch him sleep, I can't help thinking about our last case. I was afraid I'd lose him forever. Thank God the senses worked like he always said they could -- feeding me all the information I needed, no zones or spikes however hard I pushed. The rest of Major Crimes helped, providing backup for the senses as well as more mundane detective work. There weren't too few clues, but too many; the man was masterful at planting red herrings. But we did it; unraveled the threads and followed them to the end. To Blair.
I don't want to let him farther away than arm's length; I can barely let him take a piss by himself. So here I am. The sleeping bag is comfortable enough, and I only have to open my eyes to see his face, battered but whole. Even before I look, I can hear him, scent him; his presence is the safety net for my very being. As I am his. I'll never forget the look of trust in his eyes, underlying the relief that we had arrived. He knew I'd find him.
I'll always find him. The alternative is unthinkable.
I love you, Blair.
Author's Notes
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