Assault and Dream

"Sandburg, what are you doing up here? It's four in the morning," blinked Jim.

"Jim, you will not believe the crazy dream I just had-" began Blair, enthusiastically.

"Oh god," Jim's head flopped back down onto the pillow.

"C'mon, just bear with me, man," Sandburg didn't sound as if he thought he was asking for anything unreasonable.

"Can't you just write it down... and tell me in the morning?"

"It wouldn't be any good by then. Dreams have to be told when they're fresh, ya know?"

"No, I don't," mumbled Jim.

"Five minutes, I promise."

Jim reached over and turned his alarm clock so that he could see the numbers.

"Five," he growled. Blair hopped up onto the bed, sat cross-legged, and began.

"It starts with a description of Cascade police station, but the guy who's giving it is using that fifties 'American Dream' speech style, really presenting it. There's only five stories to the building, though, and -get this- there's a swimming pool on the roof."

"Uh-huh."

"-And I think, 'perfect', because in this dream, Sentinels have swimming pools. The ancient ones used lakes and rivers of course, but it's like Batman and his bat cave."

"Swimming pools," repeated Jim, deadpan.

"Yeah, but that's crazy, 'cause the chlorine would take your nose out in two seconds flat," Sandburg pointed out.

"Ah..."

"That's why it's a dream, though. So anyway, the next scene is this support group, or meeting or something-"

"A 'support group'?" Jim was incredulous. "-Get off my bed."

"Well, it might just be a lunch meeting," placated Blair, "-anyway they're on the roof of this building across the field from the police station, and there's a railing made of rusted kinda institutional tan-off-white painted chain link fence. The rust part is important."

"Go on."

"Rafe and brown and some more people from the precinct are there, maybe seven people in all. The guy who's leading the group is about twenty five, and his background is Malaysian-Chinese. He looks a bit like the guide that the Americans got in 'Bloodsport'. They're all talking, to begin with, and they know all about Sentinels, and they're really excited about getting one in Cascade."

"Okay."

"So the Asian guy calls the meeting to order, and to break the ice, he starts telling this joke about this loose thread on the waistband of his underwear-"

"STOP" Jim held up a hand.

"But it's not really his-" Blair started to explain.

"ENOUGH!"

"Okay, okay."

"You will go back to bed," ordered Jim, "-and in the morning, I do not want to hear about it."

"What if I skipped ahead to the part where-"

"NO!" interrupted Jim. "I have no interest in this dream whatsoever. None. I- -I have NEGATIVE interest in this dream."

"Well... okay," Sandburg said, dejectedly. He uncurled himself and started to get up. A hand on his arm stopped him.

"Chief-"

"Yes?"

"I'm not mad at you, I just wanna get some sleep, okay?"

"That's fine, Jim, I understand."

"No you don't, I can hear it in your voice."

"I just... thought you might be interested," sighed Blair.

"Ordinarily, I would be... but it's four in the morning... and you're talking about underwear string."

There was a pause.

"Goodnight, Jim."

"Goodnight, Blair."

Jim listened to Blair padding down the stairs, walking into his room and shutting the door. He heard a drawer open and shut, then a soft creak of wood from Blair's bed.

Then there was a click, and the soft whirr of a micro cassette recorder motor.

"Personal log of Blair Sandburg, January 23, 1998. sigh I just had the coolest dream. It starts out-"

"GGggrrrrraaaaaaaHHHHHHHH!!"

-end-

A/N: Written Jan 23,2000.