The Con

Blair arrived at the airport in plenty of time to grab a cup of coffee and a relatively quiet spot by the window where he could relax before his flight. Mocha latte would have been his first choice, but plain, old, ordinary coffee – with an emphasis on old – was all that was offered at the kiosk nearest his gate. Although he’d loaded it up with cream, his first sip told him even that wasn’t a sufficient mask for the brew. Oh, well. He shrugged and decided to drink it anyway. After all, he’d had worse concoctions on some of his jungle expeditions. If he could survive those, he could certainly survive this.

As the area started to fill with people, Blair realized it must be near boarding time. He set aside the papers he’d been reading and glanced up toward the clock on the wall beside him, his eyes flitting past a familiar figure in the process.

Rafe? Blair wondered silently as he refocused his gaze, squinting through the sun’s harsh glare. It sure looked like Rafe.

Standing up and changing position in an attempt to take the glare out of the equation, Blair saw that he’d been right. That was Rafe all right. What was he doing here?

“Rafe?” Blair asked, approaching suspiciously.

“Hey, Blair!” Rafe beamed, his smile practically splitting his face in half. “Looks like we’re on the same flight.”

“What? To London?”

“London first, then Amsterdam. I have an aunt who’s been pestering me to come for a visit.”

“Oh.” Blair was still puzzled. “That’s … that’s great, man.”

Rafe’s smile faded. “Why don’t you look like you mean that, Blair?”

“No, man. I do.” Blair tried to compensate with a fake smile. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you were taking a vacation right now.”

Rafe shrugged, his smile returning. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

“Yeah. I … guess so.” Blair turned back towards the window, his eyes darting past another familiar shape. “Is that—“

“H,” Rafe finished for him. “Yeah. He said he’d always wanted to visit Amsterdam, so I invited him along.”

Blair took a deep breath, suddenly getting a very bad feeling about all this. He scanned the crowds of people in the aisle leading towards the gate until he spotted just the person he did not want to see here.

“Jim, too?” Blair suddenly felt very, very small.

“Nah,” Rafe answered. “Jim’s just going to London.”

“London?” Shit!

“Hey, Hairboy!” H said, slapping Blair’s back hard enough to cause him to stumble. “What seat are you in? I’m going to see if we can all sit together.”

“All?” This was turning into a nightmare beyond anything Blair could have imagined.

“Sure. We’re all on the same flight. Might as well make the best of it.”

Blair forced a pathetic smile and then tensed as he heard Jim’s voice at his shoulder.

“Hey, Roomie.”

“Jim. Hey. Um, what do you mean by ‘roomie’?” Why didn’t Blair believe Jim was referring to the loft? “I mean, you don’t…. Wouldn’t you…”

“I called the hotel. They’re booked solid so I figured I might as well just stay in your room.”

“What?” Blair’s stomach began to churn; it had everything to do with bad vibes and nothing at all to do with the bad coffee. “I mean, that’s great. That’s…. Why are you going to London?”

“Because I told him to,” Simon’s voice boomed.

“Simon?” Blair spun around. “What the hell is this? Who’s left working in Major Crimes?”

 “Relax, Sandburg. We are all on an official team-building expedition. On our own dimes, of course, but at least the chief accepted the fact that we were dysfunctional enough to warrant a group vacation.”

“A … a group vacation?”

“Yep,” Simon answered. “I figured your anthropological conference would provide the perfect opportunity.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Blair was stunned. “I mean you have to be…. You are kidding, aren’t you Simon?”

The captain just smiled.

Shaking his head in confusion, Blair swung around to face his partner. “What’s going on here, Jim?” He asked, trying to hide his consternation with a forced smile.

Jim shrugged. “You’ve been so preoccupied with planning for this trip—”

“Excited’s more like it,” H finished.

“Sure seemed like you were expecting to have a lot of fun in London,” Rafe added.

“But you’re going to Amsterdam,” Blair said.

“Yeah. I am. We are.” He looked at H. “After London.”

Simon wrapped his arm around Blair’s shoulder. “We sure couldn’t let you keep all that fun to yourself.”

“Fun? What kind of fun do you expect to have at an anthropological conference?”

H held his hand outward, fingers spread. “Nanu-nanu,” he said.

Rafe, forcing a serious expression, mimicked H’s gesture, one eyebrow raised. “Live long and prosper,” he offered.

Blair felt his eyes widen and his face grow hot. Oh shit.

Simon tightened his grip on Blair’s shoulder. “You really thought you could pull a fast one on us, didn’t you? Didn’t it ever occur to you we’re detectives, Sandburg?”

“Anthropology conference, my ass,” Jim said.

“Okay,” Blair admitted. “So it’s not exactly an anthropological conference. But I do plan to study the attendees from an anthropological perspective.”

“Uh-huh,” Jim replied. “Sure you are.”

“I am. I—“

“Hey, Hairboy,” H said. “We all got our tickets late. But I’m sure you got yours early enough to get VIP. You’ll help us out with that, right?”

“What do you mean, ‘help you—‘“

“I hear Xena’s gonna be at the cocktail party, and—“

“Did I hear someone mention Xena?” Megan Conner’s voice chimed in.

“Megan? You too?”

“Well I am part of Major Crimes aren’t I, Sandy? You know, that Xena is one woman I can relate to. Did you know she—”

A loud speaker announcing the boarding call for flight 285 to London interrupted Megan’s statement, and Blair could only shake his head in bewilderment as his friends began to corral him toward the gate. He’d been looking forward to letting down his guard, to unwinding with a bunch of online friends and science-fiction enthusiasts. He had been looking forward to leaving everything else behind for a while. Now that ‘everything else’ was coming with him. He would never hear the end of it afterwards.

“So Megan,” H asked. “You gonna be Xena at the costume party?”

“What? And go around half naked all the time?” Megan smiled. “You’re damn right, I am!”

“Hey, check it! Megan, Warrior Princess.” H laughed. “What about you, Jim?”

“I’m more of a Colonel O’Neill person, myself. He’s got the best guns on TV.”

Blair turned to his partner, wide eyed. “Since when do you watch Stargate?”

Jim shrugged. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Sandy?” Megan asked. “What are you going to be?”

“Me?” He answered nervously. “I’d like to just be the fly on the wall.”

“The Fly, now there was a bad remake,” H chipped in. “The original was a classic, you know? But….”

As Blair settled into his window seat on the plane, he tried to imagine himself in a galaxy somewhere far, far away; but Jim sat down beside him and brought him right back to reality.

“This is going to be fun,” Jim said.

“Fun?” Blair could only imagine the ‘fun’ involved in the ridicule he was bound to receive after all was said and done and everything was back to business in Cascade.

“Yeah. Fun,” Jim repeated. “Didn’t it ever occur to you the rest of us might also enjoy being space troopers for a weekend?”

“Space troopers?”

Jim shrugged. “Figure of speech. Now Sandburg, I expect you to go in costume.”

“What?”

“I am not going to go out there dressed like every other space cadet if you’re not dressed up, too.”

“You’re serious?”

“Damned right, I am.”

“This is the Twilight Zone, isn’t it? Or the Outer Limits? I’m trapped in some alternate reality, aren’t I? The cosmos is in a tailspin. I’m—“

“Going to a con in London with your best friends,” Jim interrupted. “What could be more fun than that?”

Blair slowly shook his head. “I can’t think of a thing.”

Jim smiled. "Then back sit you," he said in a bad Yoda impersonation. "The ride enjoy, you must. Hmmm?"

Oh, yeah. Blair was definitely trapped in the Twilight Zone. But he couldn't think of a better way to start a con vacation.

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