Just a little stupid story I came up with. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Ever been so drunk that you have trouble remembering your own name?

No?

Good. Trust me, you do NOT want to go there. Especially not when your friend happens to be Jim Ellison. Yes, Jim Ellison as in the one that got stuck in the jungle for 18 months, as in cop-of-the-year, as in the Watchman of the Great City. Well, if you know Jim, you also know he can be a royal pain in the ass, especially where his Guide, the Shaman of the Great City also known as Blair Sandburg ,me, is concerned.

So here I am, sitting on the couch at the loft –How did I get here anyway?- not really sobered up but less drunk then 30 minutes ago and receiving a lecture I'm not really listening to. Ever been on the receiving end of a lecture? An Ellison one? Didn't think so. You know, I don't even listen to him anymore when he's saying I managed to screw up. It's always the same anyway: 'I told you to stay put!' Come on, does the guy really think I'm gonna stay in the truck while he's in danger of zoning out? Nope, not me. Why does he even bother to ask? A major waste of breath if you ask me. The other stuff he says is just as pointless since I don't listen to him anyway.

Ah great, my caged lion has stopped pacing and is looking at me. Furiously, I might add. He probably thinks I'm not listening. Okay, I admit I'm not but please don't tell him that or I'll be in even more trouble. I'm in enough trouble as it is. Please don't let him ask if I'm paying attention to his yelling about me being irresponsible. Hey, I actually heard something! Hooray for the drunken guide.

Now would be a good time to replay his yelling in my head before he asks the question. Okay, let's think… Thinking isn't going as good as I hoped… Ah ha, I'm irresponsible and childish. Childish? Ever seen a kid drink as much as I did? No? Agreed. How does he come up with it? Now probably isn't a good time to make a comment about that, though.

" Sandburg, are you listening?" Jim asks angry.

" Yeah, yeah, irresponsible, childish, yadda yadda." I reply, not managing to suppress a giggle. Yes, a giggle. I'm not as sobered up as I hoped apparently.

" What's so funny?" he growls (!). Most people would be scared but not me. No, absolutely not. I'm not easily intimidated by my blessed protector who now has his hands crossed in front of his chest and is glaring at me from the other side of the half lightened room. I manage to keep from rolling my eyes. Glare all you want, big guy. It no longer scares me. By the way, have I answered his question yet?

Right, better do that first before he comes over to the couch. Not that I'll be scared but he's pissed enough already. Um, what was the question again? My short term memory seems to be taking a day off today. Ah well, it deserves a rest, I guess. A little help, please?

" Nothing, Jim, nothing at all. I was just thinking." I finally answer just as he opens his mouth.

" Chief, what exactly did you drink tonight?" he asks, more friendly. Friendly, hah! That won't last long as he hears what I drank a couple of hours ago.

" Let's see. Beer and lots of it, tequila –you don't want to know how much-, some delicious cocktails with god knows what in it. That pretty much sums it up." I say. Hey, my words aren't slurred. Good, drinking those glasses of water that Jim shoved in my hand actually worked. Gotta remember that for next time. Considering there IS a next time. Not with Jim around to watch me, that's for sure.

Oh no, he starts glaring again. Here we go again. Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen, because it's gonna be one hell of a ride.

" Are you out of your mind! When I dragged you out of there, you couldn't even remember why you were there in the first place! A lot could've happened, you know. You could've been kidnapped, drugged, shot…"

" Jim, the place was full of cops." I interrupt patiently. Some guy from the PD had given a party for a reason I can't quite remember right now. Retirement maybe? Something along those lines anyway. Or did he get married? Ah to hell with it. I'm pretty sure I will remember it when I can think straight again and when my short term memory returned from its vacation.

" That doesn't matter!" Jim says, knowing damn well I have a point. 1-0 for me, buddy.

" Yes, it does. Besides you were there, too. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have let anything happen to me." I point out, matter-of-factly. He's muttering. That's actually a good sign because that proves he knows I'm right. I love it when a plan comes together. Yes, I'm quoting so sue me.

" Another thing, we were in a place full of cops, including Simon and the whole Major Crimes gang who all saw you." Jim tries weakly.

" I don't think they really care, man. Rafe had more drinks then me and the rest didn't seem too sober either." I shoot back. 2-0. I chose the wrong business. I should be a lawyer!

" I saw that. Still, if you ever do that again…" he trails off, leaving me to guess what he'd do.

" Then what? Jeezus, Jim, I'm not a child! I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much. I do NOT need you to tell me what I can and can't do!" I yell. I'm nearly thirty for crying out loud.

" I know that but-"

" Do you?" I interrupt again. That guy really doesn't know how to make fun. Really. Warning folks, don't ever go to a party with Jim Ellison.

" Yes, it's just anything could've happened in there! Anyone could slip something in your drink. It wasn't hard to get inside anyway." Jim replies. Ah ha, so he's worried about me. Cool. Uh-oh, I think I'm gonna be sick.

" Don't even think about getting up!" Jim says as I stand up. " I'm not done yet."

Fine but he gets to clean the couch. Okay, I'm sitting down again although I'd prefer hanging above the toilet right now. Too late.

" Sandburg!" Jim yells, watching as I empty my stomach mainly over my own clothes. Damn, that smells. Note to self: next time, just puke on the couch instead off on clothes. I sit up straight again, rubbing a hand over my face. I'm feeling a little dizzy here. Closing my eyes is a good idea.

" You okay?" Jim asks from in front of me. I open my eyes again to stare at the sentinel who's holding a glass of water which I take gratefully.

" No." I really shouldn't drink this much next time. This is one of the down parts about being drunk. I'm gonna have a major hangover tomorrow- No, later this morning.

" You need a shower." Jim states. Yeah, like I didn't know that myself. Lucky, he isn't yelling about me throwing up over the couch. He seems to realise it's his own fault. Good, that saves me the trouble of pointing it out to him.

" Shower, right." If I can get up, that is. I do not really trust my legs but I smell. I hate to imagine what Jim must be smelling right now. He probably has it dialled down. Better get up and cleaned up.

So far, so good. My legs seem to be carrying my weight. At least so far as the kitchen table before a wave of dizziness is threatening to take me down. Forget later this morning, I'm having a hangover now. I make it to the bathroom before I empty my ,well, empty stomach in the toilet. I doubt that the green stuff I'm throwing is up is healthy.

Jim's at my side when I'm finished with getting everything ,and I mean everything, out of my stomach. Lucky I decided to tie my hair back. I don't want to think about the time it would take to get the vomit out of my hair. I struggle back to my feet with some help from Jim.

I look in the mirror. Good god, I look like crap. I'm way to pale and my skin just doesn't look healthy.

" You know, Jim, I'm getting old."

Jim rolls his eyes.

" Do you need help showering?"

" No, I think I can manage. I don't think there's anything left to throw up." I say, rubbing my stomach. Jim nods.

" Okay, I'll prepare some sandwiches and clean up the couch." Jim replies.

" Sorry about that. I'll clean up now." I say, making my way back. Jim stops me.

" Shower, now." Before I can protest, Jim leaves and closes the door behind him. I get out of my shirt and dump it on the floor. I'll deal with that later. I turn on the water and get out of the rest of my clothes.

The shower is nice and cold. Cold helps to get some of the dizziness away. I force myself to stay under the cold spray for a couple of minutes before I turn on the warm water and start washing myself. I make it as quick as possible because I' not really in the mood for a long shower right now.

As I get out of the shower, I realise I don't have any clothes in here. Not exactly the first ting on your mind while you're half covered in vomit. I dry myself off as best as possible and then go to my room with a towel around my waist. Since I do not feel up like dressing, I put on a boxer short and put on my robe. That'll have to do.

" How are you feeling," Jim asks as soon as I sit ,more sink, down in a chair.

" Dizzy and I feel headache coming up."

" I can imagine." Jim says.

" Trust me, you can't." I say. " Forget eating, I'm going to bed and don't dare to wake up me up before noon." I warn him. He nods, not really hiding a smile. He's laughing with me! Well, I probably deserve it, too. I make my way over to my room, get out of my robe and fall down on the bed. Another evening in my life. Goodnight, people.

I do NOT speak out of experience. I'm only 14 (15 next Wednesday) and I've never been that drunk before. Come to think of it, I've never really been drunk before. Here you may drink alcohol from your 16. Like anyone cares. Half of my class doesn't. Age limits, Hah!