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Turnabout
by Chrys
Not mine. Sigh. They ought to be, but the world’s not right. Don’t bother suing, unless you want my debts.
Exclusive to SA
Inspired (?) by BethB’s Here We Go Again
No warnings, I don’t think so anyway
Blair Sandburg swung open the loft door and stared at the woman standing outside. "Mom! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you for another two months."
Naomi sighed as she stepped into the loft. Her normally bright eyes were dulled with fatigue. "I know, Blair. I planned on being at Jacques’ retreat for at least four more weeks, then I was going to visit Ellyce in DC for a couple more. But what the writers say goes, so here I am."
Blair shook his head, a pensive look on his brow. "I know what you mean. Last week... well, let’s just say it wasn’t fun. I felt like I was somebody’s punching bag - well, actually I was. Twice."
"Oh, Blair," his mother fretted. "They pick on you so. And those stories where you’re a wimp, well! I didn’t raise you to not stand up for yourself."
He shrugged. "Some of them write me as I am."
"It just seems so unfair. They bring Lash back, and Alex Barnes, and that awful Brackett fellow. Why can’t they just leave you alone?"
"That’s my question, Naomi."
They both turned to see Jim standing in the bathroom door, a skimpy towel draped around himself. Naomi stared in open appreciation. Blair started to, then whipped his head away at the writer’s not-so-subtle reminder that this was not a slash story. "Mom!" he protested, annoyed that she could look and he couldn’t.
"Sorry, dear." Naomi turned to face the living room.
Jim moved to the stairs, climbing them swiftly. "Sorry about that, Chief, Naomi," he called down. "I was about to put my robe on and just had to reach for the towel instead."
"Not your fault, Jim," Blair replied. "They love to see that."
"Yeah, well, I just wish they’d remember that it’s MY body they’re showing off!" came the acid rejoinder.
Jim came down the steps, tucking his shirt into his pants. "So do we know what’s on the agenda for this week? God, I hope it’s just stabbings and beatings. I don’t think I can handle another week where you die four times, Chief."
Naomi looked stricken. "Four death stories! Oh, my poor baby!"
"It’s okay, Mom." Blair glanced over at her, then returned his gaze to Jim. "It’ll be fine, Jim. Whatever they do to me, I can handle it as long as we are together."
Jim nodded, feeling his jaw clench again. Oww, he thought.
"Well, actually," Naomi began hesitantly, "that’s why I’m here."
"You, mom? They’re not going to do stuff to you, are they?"
She shook her head, not wanting to tell them what she knew.
"What is it, Naomi?"
Looking up at Jim, she blinked quickly. "This week... well, it’s your turn, Jim."
