By: Lady Shelley
Epilogue for The Debt
Rated G March 3, 2001 25K
Notes: For the purposes of this story, I do not follow the standard idea that each episode followed continuous weeks in the guy's lives, so Cypher is still sometime in the future.
We have it in canon that Blair keeps a journal. Jim however is a mystery, so his side of things should be considered internal thought.
The boxes were still in the corner. There were only a few, and mostly filled with books and papers, but they were still in the corner. The suitcase was moved. No surprise there. The clothes had been unpacked the first night; and quickly moved to the basement for washing. Nothing like the great smell of charred cloth after a long day of work.
Not that washing had helped much. Even after two times through, everything still smelled smoky.
The surprise was Simon stepping in with the solution. Not that the Captain isn't a smart guy, I just didn't expect him to. He denied it of course, but I know the quick cash collection was his idea even if Rhonda was the one to give Sandburg the envelope with the money.
I guess the kid is starting to leave an impression on my co-workers now, too.
He needs to do something about the boxes, though.
Jim seems OK with my being here. Larry is safely back at the university lab, so that has got to help a little. I have noticed Jim eyeing the boxes stacked in the corner near the balcony doors. I'm gonna have to see what I can find near campus soon. A guy's good will will only go so far, and I don't want to be on Jim's bad side.
I've tried to stay out of the way as much as possible, hoping that will help some. I mean, come on, the guy barely knows me and all of the sudden I'm his new roommate. Not likely. I almost feel like I've invaded his territory. Well I guess I have invaded his territory, but somehow this feels more intense then the normal guy-I-barely-know-is-now-sleeping-in-my-spare-room kinda feeling.
The apartment was a bust. How they expect someone to make three times that rent and still want to rent something instead of buying their own is beyond me.
Jim is gonna freak when he finds out. I said a week and I really meant a week. When did living get to be so expensive? Better start pulling out the grant forms and the financial aid sheets; no way will I be able to afford anything near campus. Maybe I can find another warehouse space somewhere.
Most of the clothes got replaced at the thrift store. He wasn't saying anything, but I know the smell was irritating Jim. I don't have a heightened sense of smell and I know the odor was bothering me.
He's still here, good. Maybe I can talk him out of this crazy idea. I know exactly how much he can afford and what kind of housing you can get with so little cash. The guy has proven handy to have around and no one should have to live in a drafty warehouse when other options are available.
My biggest worry is convincing him it's a good idea. He's been avoiding me as much as possible around the loft. I'm not too sure he feels comfortable around me. It can't be easy trying to live in someone else's space, especially for someone with so much pride. He wouldn't even take the money collected until Rhonda fibbed and told him it came from an emergency victim's fund.
Jim asked about living arrangements today. He's been really good about not pushing me out, but I can tell he's ready to have his privacy back. So am I, really. Don't get me wrong, if I had a choice I would love to stay in the loft; it's warmer than a warehouse for one thing.
But I like not having to report to anyone when I'm going to be late. I like playing music loud. And some clutter only shows that you're normal, right?
One the other hand, it's nice to know someone is worrying about my welfare. Cooking for someone other than myself is nice, too.
I wonder if Jim would mind if I pulled out some of my books, and used some shelf space.
Where are the boxes? Maybe they're in his room. Where did that come from? His room? His? Amazing. Not even two weeks, and I'm all ready thinking like he's planning to stay.
Hold on, the boxes aren't in here, either. Did he find a place? He couldn't have scraped up the money to rent anything, yet. I saw him filling out grant forms not four days ago. No way could he have the money yet.
Then where are the boxes? And where did those books come from? Books. No boxes, but the books are on a shelf. Yes! He wants to stay here.
I'll need to see about bedding for that futon and maybe a desk. I do want to keep some space for myself.
So far so good, Jim hasn't said a word about the books on the bottom shelf. The amazing thing is, he looked almost pleased. He was more relaxed at dinner tonight than in the whole time I've been here.
Of course the real shock came after dinner. Jim asked about furniture for the spare room. What would I need for studying. When did we agree I was staying? Not that I want to leave, but I don't want to be a charity case, either. I will be paying rent, whether he wants it or not.
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