A child-like Jim shares a discovery.


By Madraf

This is part of a series of short stories I have written in which Jim has been brain damaged in a car wreck. Nothing original or earth-shattering other than that. If you don't like one of the guys permanently damaged, pass on this story and all the LBJ (Little Boy Jim, not Lyndon Baines Johnson) snippets that will turn up here. I'm working on and off on a longer story that deals with the beginning of the AU.

This all happens post TS by BS, by the way, and includes a romance between Megan and Blair.

These were all posted to the SA list some time ago, but I've added a little here and taken out some there so they are a tad different from what was posted.

I have no knowledge of treatment of head trauma or custody proceedings and quite honestly, don't plan to research either one.

By the way, most of these were written out of order. I'm also still looking for a couple of snippets that were posted (I think) to SA but that I haven't found on my disks yet.

Anyway: the characters are not mine and never will be. No money is being made and, considering the time I spend on these silly things, it could be argued that they cost me money. Anyway, on with the stories. Oh, yes, not betaed, either.


Sandburg almost ran into Simon as the tall police captain stepped into the elevator as Blair was trying to exit.

"Hey, Sandburg," Simon greeted. "I was just on my way to see Jim. Where are you headed?"

"Same place," Sandburg said, "but I have to stop by the cafeteria first."

"I'll come along," Simon decided. He walked silently beside the smaller man for a few moments. "Things have been really busy at the station," he explained. "I haven't been by in several days. Jim was asleep the last time I came by. The nurse said his tests had him worn out."

"Yeah. For a while there, tests and therapy just drained him. He's better now. He's really doing well," Blair said with a smile. "If you haven't seen him in a week, you'll be surprised." Sandburg led the way to the ice cream dispenser and filled two ice cream cones with vanilla ice cream. "Have one," Sandburg encouraged. Banks took him up on the offer. Blair carried the two cones carefully through the check out line and quickly made his way to Jim's fourth floor room.

Blair slipped quickly into the room, making a show of watching the door for signs of nurses and doctors on the lookout for the ice cream concoctions he held in his hands. Judging the coast clear, he handed Jim one of the cones and began devouring his own.

Jim accepted his delicacy eagerly and attacked it with gusto. He laughed softly as the frozen cream melted in his mouth. Blair carefully wiped drops from Jim's hand as the patient looked at his other guest. Blair caught the scrutiny.

"You remember Simon, don't you, Jim?" Blair asked. Jim nodded, turning his attention back to his ice cream. Blair smiled and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. "His memory is getting better," Blair said, "but if he hasn't seen someone in a few days, sometimes he needs to be reminded of their name." Banks nodded. Jim was rapidly reducing his ice cream and moving on to the cone, and Blair cautioned him to slow down. The three men ate silently for a moment.

Banks watched Jim as the patient concentrated on the dessert. He was surprised at how much Jim's co-ordination had improved in the past week and a half. The last time he'd seen his detective--his former detective, Simon reminded himself--Jim had struggled to control his movements. His improvement in that regard alone was remarkable.

Now, he watched light blue eyes that had once lasered suspects focus with delight on a simple ice cream cone. But the most remarkable difference was in Jim's attitude. With no memory of any other life, Jim seemed more relaxed than at any time Simon had known him.

Jim looked up and caught Simon's eye. He smiled, looking for all the world like the four-year-old that matched his mental capacity at the moment. He brought himself out of his intense concentration on his ice cream and pointed to the cone.

"You can eat this," he told Simon solemnly, obviously still enthralled at the prospect of eating the dish in which his dessert was served.

Simon chanced a quick glance at Blair and saw him smiling and looking away to keep from laughing.

"Really?" Simon asked. "Is it good?"

"Yeah," Jim replied. "But you gotta eat the ice cream first so it won't fall out."

"Oh, okay. Will you tell me when you think I've eaten enough of my ice cream?"

"You should have seen him the first time I brought him one," Blair said, and Simon turned toward him.

Simon turned quickly back at the sound of giggles from the bed.

"I tried to eat the ice cream like this," Jim said, laughing as he dipped his tongue into the cup of the cone and scooped out some ice cream. "I didn't know you could eat it." Jim gave Blair a sideways glance, then shoved the remaining half of his cone in his mouth.

Blair's try for a stern look faltered as the grin spread over his face, and Simon found himself laughing for the first time in the long months since Jim's accident.


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