WHAT'RE PARTNERS FOR?

by Dreamweaver

“Aaaa-CHOOOO!”  

“Bless you.”  

“Thanks.”  Sniff.  “’Scuse me.”  Sniff.  “Ah-choo!”  

“Bless you again.  Here – Kleenex?”  

Wordless growl: “Thags.”  

“No problem.”  

Sounds of cautious nose-blowing, followed by a deep sigh.  

“Do be a favor?”  

“What?”  

“Shoot me?”  

“Nah.  Too much paperwork.  And too much blood to clean up.”  

“PLEASE!  I cad breathe!  Id would be doing be a kindness.”  

“You don’t really want me to shoot you.”  

“Id would put a hole in by head…baybe then I could ged sub air in!”  

“You’re getting air in.  You’re still able to talk.”  

“Hell, I’ll do id byself!”  Footsteps.  “HEY!  Where’d by gun go?”  

“I put it away where you can’t find it.  I think you’re delirious.  C’mon, sit back down.  Better yet, lie down.  You sound awful and you look worse.”  

“If I cad use bine, I’ll use YOURS….Whadthe….Where’s your gun?  Whad did you do with your gun?”  

“You think I’m dumb enough to hide your gun and leave mine out?  Now I’m insulted.”  

“Kill be, please.  You’re supposed to be by friend – put be out of by bisery!”  

“I am your friend.  Your absolutely best friend.  Friends don’t let friends kill themselves over a little head cold.”  

“Id’s DOT a liddle head cold.  I think id’s the plague.  I’m gonna die from it eddyway, why cad it just be a liddle sooner?”  

Patiently:  “You don’t have the plague.  You have a cold.  It is a bad cold, but you aren’t gonna die from it, and I’m NOT going to shoot you.  What could I tell Simon?  ‘Well, Captain, you see, I shot my partner because he asked me to so nicely.’?”  

“Nod asking.  BEGGING!”  Sniffles and wheezing breaths.  

“Would you like me to make you some tea?”  

“Doh, I dode want any damned tea!”  

“Well excuse me for asking; usually you like it, you know.”  

“Yeah, well….I’b sorry….”  Pathetic sniffling noises.  

“I know.  I’m sorry you’re so miserable, you know that.”  

“Please, can I have by gun?”  

“No, and you can’t have mine, either.”  

“If you catch this, I’ll be nicer to YOU!”  

“Oh?  That’s good to hear.”  

“Yes…I’ll shoot you right away, first thing.  I won’t make you beg for it or anything.  I’ll put you out of your bisery righd away!”  

Stunned silence.  “That’s…really nice of you.  I’m really touched, here.”   

Grumpily:  “You oughda be.  I wouldn’t offer that to just eddyone, ya know.”  

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.  But Simon would be peeved.  He doesn’t like having to arrest people in the department.”  

“I’ve god a bedder idea.  How about if you give be back by gun – I’ll shood you first, and then shood byself?  Nobody has to do baberwork that way.”  

“Simon would have to do it.  He’d still be pissed.  Besides, you’re sick.  What if you missed, or just wounded me?  Or yourself?”  

Thoughtful silence, punctuated by hacking coughs, sniffles, and much nose-blowing.  

“Thad might nod be so good.”  Hopefully:  “I could just jump off the balcony!”  

“It’s only two stories.  You probably couldn’t kill yourself.  You’d just damage something vital and be a paraplegic all your life, and I’d end up having to look after you.”  

“You are NOD HELPING!”  

“Yes I am.  I’m making you laugh, aren’t I?”  

“No….well, yeah.  A liddle.  I guess.”  

“Come on back and lie down again.  You’re gonna make your fever go up, prowling around all over the place like that.”  

“Okay….”  

“There.  Better?  Jeez, you’re burning up – where’s that bottle of Tylenol…?”  

“I think id’s all gone.”  

Muttered swearing and imprecations.  “Will you be all right for a little while if I go out and get some more?”  

“No.  I won’t.  I’b going to spend the whole tibe looking for by GUN!”  

“C’mon now – don’t be like that.  Is there anything I could get you while I’m out, to make you feel better?”  

Thoughtful silence.  “Ice creab?”  

“We have ice cream – don’t we?  We DID have some.”  

Guilty silence.  “I – um – I ade id.  While you were at the station.”  Defensively:  “Id felt good on by throat.”  

“Oh.  Well, okay.  Ice cream.  What kind sounds good?”  

“Cherry Garcia?”  

“I see even a cold doesn’t damp down your exotic tastes in ice cream.”  

“Well…you asked!”  

“I asked, foolish me.  Okay, Tylenol and Cherry Garcia.  Anything else?”  

“By gun.  Just in case you don’d ged back soon enough.  I might asphyxiate while you’re gone, ya know.”  

Exasperation.  “Maybe I’ll just shoot you and then go out and buy the ice cream and eat it all myself!”  

Sigh.  Sniffle.  Cough.  “Sorry.”  

“Hey…stop looking so pathetic, huh?  I’m not mad.  Really – I’m not.”  

Cough.  Sniffle.  Hack.  

“I think I’m going to call up the radio station and ask for a song to be played – only I want a parody.  Instead of Don’t it Make My Brown Eyes Blue, it oughta be Don’t it Make My Blue Eyes RED!”  

“Now I AB going to shoot you.  Just as soon as I find by gun!”  

“If you shoot me now, you won’t get any ice cream or Tylenol.”  

“Oh.  Righd.”  

“Lie down; I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops.  Here – cold cloth on your forehead.”  

Deep sigh.  “Thags.”  

“Any time.  After all, what else are partners for?”

Fini

Disclaimer:  The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly Production and UPN.  We've only borrowed the characters for a few frolics in the sun.  
We promise to return them where we found them when we're done.