Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters belong to Pet Fly, UPN, and Paramount and no copyright infringement is intended.

    This story may be archived by the Cascade Library.

    Note: A brief web search turns up a starling dearth of TS stories featuring non-metaphorical quicksand. I decided to rectify this, while responding to Doggyj0525's urban legend challenge on SentinelAngst within the context of an Oct. 2003 SentinelAngst themefic.

    The October theme, paraphrased: Blair and Jim go their separate ways and are happy about it.

    The urban legend: Quicksand actively sucks you down. Really, it doesn't (never tested this, though!)

    Rated G.

    Quicksand

    by Helen W.

    The pack has to go.

    "It's been ages since we've even grabbed a beer. Camping will be great," Jim'd said.

    What's been great is not seeing the inside of an ER regularly.

    Sand is heavier than water. Once I get this pack off, I'll just swim out.

    If only I'd abandoned my boots first thing. Or not taken a nose-dive. Couldn't have Jim find me without my boots, though, right? Had to look like I can handle anything, didn't I?

    Okay, that's better. Doggy paddle time.

    And - up - and - "Oh, hi" - out.

    If he rescues the pack, I'll kill him.

    *** The End ***

     

    All feedback welcomed, negative particularly! helenw@murphnet.org.

    To Helen W.'s other fanfic...