Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel, Sentinel's characters or anything belong to the television series. I do not make a claim on them. Established characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. Original characters are the sole property of the author. Some ideas are influenced by other fanfictions but this is solely my universe. I do own the plot.
Warning: Unbeta-ed
A.N. Okay. Sorry, I know I promised another chapter for the Institution, but I had something to do. So, instead you get this one-shot that I was planning to put up but never did. I'm going to be busy with school, so I will try to get that chapter out by next week, along with another one-shot in the works, if school and time permits. Enjoy this in the meantime. Thanks for reading.
Flirt
"Hey, Jim? I have a question I've been muddling about in my head for awhile—I can't seem to figure it out."
Jim lowered the volume on the television. It was about time for the kid to finally cracked, Blair had been going around for a couple days with his head in the clouds.
"Just spit it out, chief."
"Um, okay," Blair bit his lower lip, and fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. "Here it goes, do you, uh, am I—am I a flirt?"
Jim just stared at Blair. What kind of question was that? Is he a flirt or not? Hell, yes. How does he not know that he is a flirt? Look at all the women and men chasing after him, especially when he pouts and flashes those lashes and a whole mess of sweet-talking.
"What?"
"Well, am I or not? I know that you didn't miss what I said, you're a sentinel, c'mon, get with the program. So, I overheard some people at the U today; they were saying that I'm such a flirt and how I don't go through with what I promise."
"Yes, Sandburg," Jim said patiently. "You are a flirt. In fact, you flirt with everybody and anyone, hell, you even, flirt with the enemy—like Brackett, and Alex, and Kincaid, and Lash—"
"Stop," said Blair in annoyance. "I get the point already. Are you serious? I do not flirt with the enemy, hell, I don't even know what flirting is."
"You don't know what flirting is?" Jim eyed Blair with speculation.
"YES!" stated Blair empathically. "Yes, maybe, no—I, I know the dictionary definition. Flirting is playful behavior intended to arouse sexual interest. In anthropology, flirting is a common form of social interaction or formalized ritual where a person covertly indicates a romantic or sexual interest towards another. It can be one-sided or reciprocated to facilitate a higher level of intimate contact, eventually leading to sexual or romantic relations. There are many forms of it, such as eye contact, flipping one's hair—"
"Chief," Jim interrupted. "Just get to the point."
"Right, right. So, the point is, I know the definitions, I can recognize it in another person, since I am a trained observer and that's what I do. However, I still kind of don't get it."
"You don't get it?"
"Yeah. I mean, how do you know when someone is flirting with you? Or if you are initiating acts of flirting?"
"Before I answer this, and I'm assuming that you meant yourself and you want me to analyze you, I have a question: You seriously don't know how to flirt?"
"Yeah, man. I don't. Hell, the shortest I've gone without noticing some one was flirting with me or was interested in me was six months. And, I only discovered that, when a couple of my friends started giggling in class and said, you do realize that she likes you, right? According to them, I'm too into the subject at hand to realize what was going on."
"Blair."
"Yes?"
"You are utterly, and completely naïve. I'm not sure you will get it, even if I explain it."
"Aw, come on, Jim. This is serious here, how am I supposed to get a good date if I accidentally keep picking up the bad ones?"
"Well, you don't seem to have a problem getting dates," Jim pointed out.
"But, that's because they ask me, and I said yes. If I ask, I get rejected one hundred percent of the time. That's a failure rate of two hundred and sixty-seven times—and don't make that face, yes, I counted them."
"Alright. When you flirt, I noticed that you get that sort of expression on your face."
"Expression, what expression? Actually, wait, lemme go grab a notebook."
Jim opened his mouth to speak, but Blair had already disappeared into his room. He finally closed his mouth after realizing what a stupid facial look it was.
"Okay, right, continue," Blair held out a tape recorder.
"Do you really need to record this conversation?"
"Yes, I'm going to transcribe this later on my laptop, then I'm going to cross-reference it with my behavior and people's reactions to it, so I can ensure I do not send cross-signals."
"Please tell me you are not going to do this in the station. In fact, don't tell me at all. I don't want to know."
"JIM," Blair said exasperatedly. He placed down the tape recorder, and looked expectantly at Jim with a notebook and pen in hand.
Jim sighed. Asked himself why did he had to go through this torture, and he continued. "You know, that puppy dog expression."
"Puppy dog? Can you describe it?"
"Well, your eyes get really big and sparkly because of the light coming into it, and you pout."
"What else do I do?"
"Well, the stuff you just mention—y'know, flipping the hair, lots of eye contact, touching, gesturing, licking of the lips—"
"Whoa, wait a minute. Jim, but I do that all the time. You can't be serious, that can't possibly be construed as flirting."
Jim gave him that look.
"What? Look, I only flip my hair cause it gets in my way, and eye contact, that's like totally necessary in order to read a person correctly, and touching. Well, everyone needs hugs, in fact, hugging or some form of touching bind people together more closely, building a rapport y'know, and gesturing. Hell, how am I supposed to emphasize a point if I don't use my hands? And licking of the lips, okay, I give you that one, but seriously, sometimes, my lips are dry and I don't have chapstick on hand."
"Chief, it's not just those actions. It is the fact you do it often, you get distant-wise close to the person, practically in their space, but mostly, because of that look. The look that says you are focused on them and only them. Most of the time they realize that you are not flirting, and that's just how you are, at other times, well, you seem like a flirt. Why did you think Brackett ask if you want to get the wire out of my pants, he wanted to see if you were gay."
Jim paused. "Anyways, it is because you genuinely care about people, and because most people don't have that unless it's someone you know and trust; it's seen as a sexual interest. So, chief, yes, you are a flirt. A naïve, and clueless one, but a flirt none the less."
"Jim, you're like, knows what actions I do way too much. Have you been spying on me? Or maybe, this is an unconscious monitoring with your senses? We could do some tests…"
Jim threw a pillow at Blair's head. Why did he even bother?