Tokyo, Japan
The Ningenkai
September 29
Night had settled upon the city, the last tendrils of the sun long vanished
below the horizon as the moon fought to make itself visible through the overcast
of thick clouds in the sky that refused to part. The city still buzzed with
life, party-goers, late workers, all of the like crammed into the streets of
Tokyo as they went about their business. Even late hours such as this could not
dampen the life of such a luxurious city. Yellow streetlamps lit their way
through the streets, from building to building as they travelled by vehicle,
bicycle, and on foot to their destinations.
However, the most action was coming from a more secluded part of the city, very
far from this nightlife bustle and therefore from as many people as possible. An
old, abandoned warehouse district was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing
and loud slaps of shoes against cement as a figure ran past one worn building
after another as fast as his legs would carry him. His foot slapped into a
puddle left by the rain a short while before, the bottoms of his pants soaked
through. None of this mattered to him at this moment, because he knew that any
moment of hesistation on his part would result in immediate downfall. He didn't
have time to worry about insignificant puddles and clothing!
A sudden flash of black before his eyes brought him to a stop, and the figure
nearly fell backward in horror as another person appeared before him. A shadow
in the night, visible only by the white scarf around his neck and starburst in
his hair. The moon burst through the clouds just in time to catch the relfection
of the katana in his hand, held in a possition ready to fight at any moment. The
blade seemed to signal death, if those cold crimson eyes hadn't sent the message
already. He had heard about this one, speed unmatched by even his teammates,
with a cruel heart.
"You've gone far enough," the small figure said in a startlingly deep voice, his
eyes narrowing even more. There was nothing more than cold hatred in his
young-looking face.
Terrified, the figure spun around to turn the way he had come, a desperate
attempt to escape the fate he knew would come. He froze once more when he saw
another person, his second persuer, walking slowly up to him from behind. Hair
the color of blood caught the wind for a moment and ruffled around the
nonchallant face, jewel green eyes fixed on his face. This one was just as cold,
but held an expression of calmness. The calculating one, who was cunning and
smart, able to out-maneuver nearly any opponent.
"Our orders were to bring you in dead or alive. You've killed over five human
girls for no reason other than to please your own perversion. You won't kill
another," the soft alto stated, sending a chill up his spine with its sureness.
Crying out in fright, the figure ran the only way he could now, toward one of
the nearby buildings. The door was open for him, although it was probably more
likely that it had just fallen off years before. It didn't look secure, instead
looking as though it would collapse at any second, but it was more safe than
being out here with these two. He relished his life and didn't want to lose it
so soon.
"Rose whip."
The two words were soft, but the figure didn't get any farther as pain lashed
through his body when a green, thorned whip wrapped itself around his body with
an expertise that had been earned over many years of living. Forced to turn, the
figure saw the red haired figure holding the whip taunt in his hands. He had
forgotten this fact, his ability to control plantlife and his favorite weapon
born of a rose.
The two of them didn't need to speak, so intuned with their partnership. With a
quick nod to the other person, the one dressed in black shot forward, rasing his
katana over his head with ease that spoke of his own talent. His movements were
so quick he was hardly more than a black blur in the fighting moonlight. He
brought the blade down siftly, and the figure could do nothing more than watch
and scream.
Hiei turned and watched as the body, now cut into two peices, fell to the ground
with a dull thud. It then burst into black flames, Hiei making sure it was
completely destroyed before stopping. He then wiped the blood off of his blade
before sheathing it back below his cloak where it was out of sight. Turning to
his companion, who had called the whip back and now held a single red rose in
his hand, Hiei felt the satisfaction of another mission being completed. The two
of them met glances, not needing to communicate in words as they turned and
walked away from the pile of ash.
"I'll tell Koenma that the criminal has been delt with," Kurama stated.
~~~***~~~
Reiner University
Cascade, Washington
September 29
Liar.
Fraud.
His greatest peice of obfusication yet.
Blair Sandburg squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to accept the fact his eyes were
starting to water. He was not going to cry! Blair Sandburg never cried, not
matter what. This was the way things had worked out. He had chosen this fate and
refused to allow himself the time to wallow in self pity. He had done this for
Jim and anything was worth protecting his best friend. The choice had been his,
and he'd made it.
So what if his life as he knew it was coming to an end?
Telling his hands to stop shaking, Blair packed another of his books into the
box that was already almost filled to the rim. He was almost finished packing up
his things now, the small office looking barren and emtpy. After the conference,
in which he had declared his dissertation 'The Sentinel' to be a work of
fiction, he had barely had time to get off stage before he was ordered to pack
up his things and get off the University premisis. He could hear people outside
of his office, even without Sentinal hearing, whispering about him and what he
had done. One of the biggest scandels to ever hit Reiner University. And Blair
Sandburg had been the cause. He was a fake, performing one of the biggest crimes
a University intellectual could ever perform. Anthropology would now be lost to
him. No one in their right mind would hire him now that it was common knowledge
that he had lied in order to get his doctorate.
People who didn't even know him gave him scornfull looks as he had walked to his
office with the boxes under his arms. It seemed like the entire world knew of
his shame. Those that had been jealous of him before, not understanding how
someone so young could have gained the status he had held in the educational
world, now gave smirks as he walked past in the hall. He was the talk of the
building, of the entire Anthropology department. He had shamed the name of
Anthropology.
Taking a shuddering breath, Blair forced himself to quit over-reacting
asfinished piling in the books and looked around. One thing remained upon his
desk. It was a picture of him and Jim taken at the precinct last Christmas.
Although Blair was Jewish, he'd had a great time at the party and enjoyed the
presence of those who now called him a friend. Blair was smiling at the camera
widely, and Blair recalled that Rafe had been the one to take that particular
one, commenting on Blair's nicely ribboned red and green hair. They had paid him
to do it although Blair hadn't told them he would of done it for free. Jim was
also smiling, looking at the camera with one arm wrapped around Blair's
shoulders, his hand playing one red ribbon that was longer than the others. He
actually looked content for once.
Picking the picture up, Blair took another deep breath and forced himself to
stop getting so emotional over his lost career. He had kept Jim safe. By
claiming his dissertation as fictional, he had saved his thesis subject, Jim
Ellison, from being hunted down and used as a lab experiment by the goverment.
Now no one would suspect the truth of the Sentinel and at least Jim would be
able to live without having to fear that the government or some other powerful
organization would pick him up in order to see if words of Blair's dissertation
were true.
Keeping Jim safe from a life of living in a testtube would be worth all of the
looks, comments, and the bad record. Blair knew that, if it had become
necissary, he would give up his life for Jim. He had in many accounts done so
before. This was nothing new and he refused to have regrets.
There was a soft knock on his door, and Blair cringed. Who was it this time who
had come to offer their opinion of him in light of what had happened at the
conference? He really didn't want to deal with anymore people today. He just
wanted to go back to the loft and work past this intial agony before Jim got
home and started pestering him like the mother hen he had a tendancy to act
like.
Opening his office door, Blair blinked at the familiar figure. Jim was staring
at him, his face expressionless other than a small amount of pain in his eyes.
He looked at Blair for a few moments before glancing past at the empty office.
Then he looked back at Blair, who was now having trouble not to cry again as he
looked at the man he had given it all up for. Jim must have seen the conference
on television and come right over from the station. Blair wasn't sure how the
bigger man would take what he had done, but he was releived when he felt Jim's
arms wrap around his shaking body, holding him close in a hug that was very much
needed. The two of them had always been close and Blair felt more grateful now
than he ever had before of this fact.
Moving into the office, Jim closed the door with his foot to give them privacy
as Blair continued to cry into his shirt. Blair had never been so glad for Jim's
presence. Lash, the trouble with the drug Golden, even the 'accident' with Alex
Barnes didn't seem to measure up to what he was feeling now. Jim's arms felt so
nice and warm, and Blair felt safe as he always had within the arms of his
Sentinel. It was as though Jim could make all of his troubles go away even if it
was for a short time. He'd always been there to protect him, to pull him away
from danger at that last critical moment. With his natural tendancy to be
protective, and with the help of the enhanced senses which made him a Sentinel,
Jim had always been the one to chase Blair's nightmares away. Sometimes it felt
nice to be protected. Blair didn't consider it a damage to his image, or to his
pride. Besides being something that comes naturally to Jim, it was something
Blair held close to his heart. And now he had finally returned the favour.
After a while, the young anthropologist pulled away with an embarrased flush on
his cheeks as he gazed up at Jim. "Man, I hate crying," he stated as he turned
around, quickly scrubing the tears off of his cheeks. He looked around, then
cursed when he saw that he'd already packed the Kleenex box.
"Cheif, I don't understand. Why did you do that? This dissertation was your
entire life, it was something you had worked so hard for," Jim stated, his voice
sympathetic and filled with pain for his friend.
Blair looked up at him, smiling shakily. His partner had never been very good
with emotions but here he was, still trying to console Blair for all he was
worth. "I couldn't let it be published, Jim. You know as well as I do what would
have happened to you. It could of been the source of distruction for you, as
well as our friendship. I couldn't betray your trust in me," he stated.
His dissertation, a paper all about this man in front of him, was supposed to be
published without Jim's name as the test subject. There was suppost to be no
reference to the man so that his identity would remain a complete secret.
However, Naomi Sandburg, in her enthusiasm to make sure her son succeeded in
whatever he set out to do, had sent the dissertation to be published before he
had made the final editations. Blair wasn't mad at his mother for it, and was
infact touched that she would be so happy for him. However, once it was sent
Blair hadn't been able to call it back. And so was forced to declare the entire
thing a fraud despite having worked on it for three long years. He was
disappointed, if anything else, in his mother. Yet he knew she had the best
intentions in her heart.
Jim was silent for a few moments, then he looked around the office once more. He
seemed to be at a loss of what to do with himself. "Do you want some help?" he
asked lightly, his own way of offering support since he wasn't the type to
verbalize it.
Nodding, Blair forced a smile to his lips which they both knew wasn't genuine.
"Would you? I don't think my car could handle this many boxes," he stated. His
attempt at humor was weak but Jim smiled anyway. Never mind the fact that it was
very true; the Volvo was hardly out of the shop these last couple of days.
Working together, they loaded the majority of Blair's things into the back of
Jim's truck before placeing the last two boxes into Blair's car. They agreed
they would meet at the loft first thing, but Blair paused before climbing into
his small vehicle, looking up at Reiner for a few long moments. He felt Jim come
up beside him and place a hand on his shoulder as an offer of silent comfort.
After so many years working here, teaching and learning, long hours put in at
night and his days filled with such a wonderful workload he had almosted
collapsed under the strain many times. Now it was all gone. Blair Sandburg would
never earn his doctorate now, would never be able to set foot here again without
suffering from rude words and critical sarcasm.
Turning, Blair looked up at Jim. He had gotten good at reading his partner's
facial expressions and knew that he was feeling guilty. It wasn't obvious, but
it was still notable within his eyes. "Don't worry about it, man," Blair stated
firmly. "This is what it has come to and that is the way it's just going to be.
Its too late to have regrets. We just have to get on with our lives."
Jim nodded slowly before, with a final squeeze of Blair's shoulder, moving back
to his truck and starting it up. When he didn't moe, Blair realized he was
waiting for him. Quickly getting into the volvo, Blair lead the way back to the
loft. Trapped with only his thoughts, the young man began to wonder where this
situated him. Without his dissertation to hide behind, there was no reason for
him to continue on as Jim's partner at the station. In fact, after this initial
guilt, Blair wouldn't be surprised if Jim kicked him out. No more diss meant no
more need for Blair to be so close. Jim had finally gotten used to his senses,
for the most part, and there were hardly any zone outs now. The simple fact was
that Blair was no longer needed.
Finally arriving at Prospect, Blair parked in his usual place. The truck parked
beside him and without a word the two men began to carry the boxes up to the
loft. It didn't seem to take as long as it had to pack them, Blair noticed.
Almost too soon they were finished and Blair was sprawled out on the couch with
a beer in his hand and Jim beside him, drinking his own. Naomi, once she'd
realized her mistake, had appologized profoundly to her son before vanishing
again to who-knew-where in order to let him pick up what was bound to be messy
situation without further interferance. There was no trace of her left in the
loft and he didn't know weither to be releived for not.
"This is a day I definately do not ever want to repeat," Blair said, finally
breaking the silence as it became uncomfortable.
Beside him, Jim nodded with a loud sigh. He was silent for a few moments, then
turned to Blair, his hand on Blair's shoulder again. Jim always had been a
physical person, and even under these circumstances, Blair wasn't about to
argue. "Things will work out, Cheif," he said, his tone sounding almost certain.
Nodding, Blair smiled softly. "Thanks, man," he replied, then climbed to his
feet. What he needed was a nice relaxing shower. On the way to the bathroom, the
answering machine caught his eye. There was a message there, and Blair groaned
as he thought of one of the many things it could have been. Pressing play, he
was surprised when Henry Brown's voice filled the room.
"Hey, Hairboy. We all saw the conference here at the Station. Now, we might not
know exactly what's going on but we do know that you are an honest and wonderful
person. We just wanted to let you know that whatever shit you might be going
through right now, the people of Major Crimes are behind you all the way."
It seemed like so long ago when he had gained permission to follow Jim around as
a police observer, there to study the closed-circut system of the police while
at the same time privately going along with Jim to keep his senses under
control. Simon Banks, a good friend of both of them and Jim's boss, had taken
the information about the Sentinel as well as could be expected and had kept it
a secret for three years. The only other that knew was the Australian detective,
Megan O'Conner. Despite all of that, once Blair had worked out his differences
with the police detectives of Major Crimes, they had accepted him and some had
even become friends with him. Now if Jim came into the station without Blair
there was usually a wave of concerned officers at Jim's desk, questioning as to
where the long haired observer had gone.
He was touched beyond words to hear this message, finally knowing for certain
that he had been accepted. Turning to Jim, Blair felt a genuine smile come to
his lips and saw the answering one on his friend. Then he headed for the
bathroom again.
~~~***~~~
The Ningenkai
September 29
Night had settled upon the city, the last tendrils of the sun long vanished
below the horizon as the moon fought to make itself visible through the overcast
of thick clouds in the sky that refused to part. The city still buzzed with
life, party-goers, late workers, all of the like crammed into the streets of
Tokyo as they went about their business. Even late hours such as this could not
dampen the life of such a luxurious city. Yellow streetlamps lit their way
through the streets, from building to building as they travelled by vehicle,
bicycle, and on foot to their destinations.
However, the most action was coming from a more secluded part of the city, very
far from this nightlife bustle and therefore from as many people as possible. An
old, abandoned warehouse district was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing
and loud slaps of shoes against cement as a figure ran past one worn building
after another as fast as his legs would carry him. His foot slapped into a
puddle left by the rain a short while before, the bottoms of his pants soaked
through. None of this mattered to him at this moment, because he knew that any
moment of hesistation on his part would result in immediate downfall. He didn't
have time to worry about insignificant puddles and clothing!
A sudden flash of black before his eyes brought him to a stop, and the figure
nearly fell backward in horror as another person appeared before him. A shadow
in the night, visible only by the white scarf around his neck and starburst in
his hair. The moon burst through the clouds just in time to catch the relfection
of the katana in his hand, held in a possition ready to fight at any moment. The
blade seemed to signal death, if those cold crimson eyes hadn't sent the message
already. He had heard about this one, speed unmatched by even his teammates,
with a cruel heart.
"You've gone far enough," the small figure said in a startlingly deep voice, his
eyes narrowing even more. There was nothing more than cold hatred in his
young-looking face.
Terrified, the figure spun around to turn the way he had come, a desperate
attempt to escape the fate he knew would come. He froze once more when he saw
another person, his second persuer, walking slowly up to him from behind. Hair
the color of blood caught the wind for a moment and ruffled around the
nonchallant face, jewel green eyes fixed on his face. This one was just as cold,
but held an expression of calmness. The calculating one, who was cunning and
smart, able to out-maneuver nearly any opponent.
"Our orders were to bring you in dead or alive. You've killed over five human
girls for no reason other than to please your own perversion. You won't kill
another," the soft alto stated, sending a chill up his spine with its sureness.
Crying out in fright, the figure ran the only way he could now, toward one of
the nearby buildings. The door was open for him, although it was probably more
likely that it had just fallen off years before. It didn't look secure, instead
looking as though it would collapse at any second, but it was more safe than
being out here with these two. He relished his life and didn't want to lose it
so soon.
"Rose whip."
The two words were soft, but the figure didn't get any farther as pain lashed
through his body when a green, thorned whip wrapped itself around his body with
an expertise that had been earned over many years of living. Forced to turn, the
figure saw the red haired figure holding the whip taunt in his hands. He had
forgotten this fact, his ability to control plantlife and his favorite weapon
born of a rose.
The two of them didn't need to speak, so intuned with their partnership. With a
quick nod to the other person, the one dressed in black shot forward, rasing his
katana over his head with ease that spoke of his own talent. His movements were
so quick he was hardly more than a black blur in the fighting moonlight. He
brought the blade down siftly, and the figure could do nothing more than watch
and scream.
Hiei turned and watched as the body, now cut into two peices, fell to the ground
with a dull thud. It then burst into black flames, Hiei making sure it was
completely destroyed before stopping. He then wiped the blood off of his blade
before sheathing it back below his cloak where it was out of sight. Turning to
his companion, who had called the whip back and now held a single red rose in
his hand, Hiei felt the satisfaction of another mission being completed. The two
of them met glances, not needing to communicate in words as they turned and
walked away from the pile of ash.
"I'll tell Koenma that the criminal has been delt with," Kurama stated.
~~~***~~~
Reiner University
Cascade, Washington
September 29
Liar.
Fraud.
His greatest peice of obfusication yet.
Blair Sandburg squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to accept the fact his eyes were
starting to water. He was not going to cry! Blair Sandburg never cried, not
matter what. This was the way things had worked out. He had chosen this fate and
refused to allow himself the time to wallow in self pity. He had done this for
Jim and anything was worth protecting his best friend. The choice had been his,
and he'd made it.
So what if his life as he knew it was coming to an end?
Telling his hands to stop shaking, Blair packed another of his books into the
box that was already almost filled to the rim. He was almost finished packing up
his things now, the small office looking barren and emtpy. After the conference,
in which he had declared his dissertation 'The Sentinel' to be a work of
fiction, he had barely had time to get off stage before he was ordered to pack
up his things and get off the University premisis. He could hear people outside
of his office, even without Sentinal hearing, whispering about him and what he
had done. One of the biggest scandels to ever hit Reiner University. And Blair
Sandburg had been the cause. He was a fake, performing one of the biggest crimes
a University intellectual could ever perform. Anthropology would now be lost to
him. No one in their right mind would hire him now that it was common knowledge
that he had lied in order to get his doctorate.
People who didn't even know him gave him scornfull looks as he had walked to his
office with the boxes under his arms. It seemed like the entire world knew of
his shame. Those that had been jealous of him before, not understanding how
someone so young could have gained the status he had held in the educational
world, now gave smirks as he walked past in the hall. He was the talk of the
building, of the entire Anthropology department. He had shamed the name of
Anthropology.
Taking a shuddering breath, Blair forced himself to quit over-reacting
asfinished piling in the books and looked around. One thing remained upon his
desk. It was a picture of him and Jim taken at the precinct last Christmas.
Although Blair was Jewish, he'd had a great time at the party and enjoyed the
presence of those who now called him a friend. Blair was smiling at the camera
widely, and Blair recalled that Rafe had been the one to take that particular
one, commenting on Blair's nicely ribboned red and green hair. They had paid him
to do it although Blair hadn't told them he would of done it for free. Jim was
also smiling, looking at the camera with one arm wrapped around Blair's
shoulders, his hand playing one red ribbon that was longer than the others. He
actually looked content for once.
Picking the picture up, Blair took another deep breath and forced himself to
stop getting so emotional over his lost career. He had kept Jim safe. By
claiming his dissertation as fictional, he had saved his thesis subject, Jim
Ellison, from being hunted down and used as a lab experiment by the goverment.
Now no one would suspect the truth of the Sentinel and at least Jim would be
able to live without having to fear that the government or some other powerful
organization would pick him up in order to see if words of Blair's dissertation
were true.
Keeping Jim safe from a life of living in a testtube would be worth all of the
looks, comments, and the bad record. Blair knew that, if it had become
necissary, he would give up his life for Jim. He had in many accounts done so
before. This was nothing new and he refused to have regrets.
There was a soft knock on his door, and Blair cringed. Who was it this time who
had come to offer their opinion of him in light of what had happened at the
conference? He really didn't want to deal with anymore people today. He just
wanted to go back to the loft and work past this intial agony before Jim got
home and started pestering him like the mother hen he had a tendancy to act
like.
Opening his office door, Blair blinked at the familiar figure. Jim was staring
at him, his face expressionless other than a small amount of pain in his eyes.
He looked at Blair for a few moments before glancing past at the empty office.
Then he looked back at Blair, who was now having trouble not to cry again as he
looked at the man he had given it all up for. Jim must have seen the conference
on television and come right over from the station. Blair wasn't sure how the
bigger man would take what he had done, but he was releived when he felt Jim's
arms wrap around his shaking body, holding him close in a hug that was very much
needed. The two of them had always been close and Blair felt more grateful now
than he ever had before of this fact.
Moving into the office, Jim closed the door with his foot to give them privacy
as Blair continued to cry into his shirt. Blair had never been so glad for Jim's
presence. Lash, the trouble with the drug Golden, even the 'accident' with Alex
Barnes didn't seem to measure up to what he was feeling now. Jim's arms felt so
nice and warm, and Blair felt safe as he always had within the arms of his
Sentinel. It was as though Jim could make all of his troubles go away even if it
was for a short time. He'd always been there to protect him, to pull him away
from danger at that last critical moment. With his natural tendancy to be
protective, and with the help of the enhanced senses which made him a Sentinel,
Jim had always been the one to chase Blair's nightmares away. Sometimes it felt
nice to be protected. Blair didn't consider it a damage to his image, or to his
pride. Besides being something that comes naturally to Jim, it was something
Blair held close to his heart. And now he had finally returned the favour.
After a while, the young anthropologist pulled away with an embarrased flush on
his cheeks as he gazed up at Jim. "Man, I hate crying," he stated as he turned
around, quickly scrubing the tears off of his cheeks. He looked around, then
cursed when he saw that he'd already packed the Kleenex box.
"Cheif, I don't understand. Why did you do that? This dissertation was your
entire life, it was something you had worked so hard for," Jim stated, his voice
sympathetic and filled with pain for his friend.
Blair looked up at him, smiling shakily. His partner had never been very good
with emotions but here he was, still trying to console Blair for all he was
worth. "I couldn't let it be published, Jim. You know as well as I do what would
have happened to you. It could of been the source of distruction for you, as
well as our friendship. I couldn't betray your trust in me," he stated.
His dissertation, a paper all about this man in front of him, was supposed to be
published without Jim's name as the test subject. There was suppost to be no
reference to the man so that his identity would remain a complete secret.
However, Naomi Sandburg, in her enthusiasm to make sure her son succeeded in
whatever he set out to do, had sent the dissertation to be published before he
had made the final editations. Blair wasn't mad at his mother for it, and was
infact touched that she would be so happy for him. However, once it was sent
Blair hadn't been able to call it back. And so was forced to declare the entire
thing a fraud despite having worked on it for three long years. He was
disappointed, if anything else, in his mother. Yet he knew she had the best
intentions in her heart.
Jim was silent for a few moments, then he looked around the office once more. He
seemed to be at a loss of what to do with himself. "Do you want some help?" he
asked lightly, his own way of offering support since he wasn't the type to
verbalize it.
Nodding, Blair forced a smile to his lips which they both knew wasn't genuine.
"Would you? I don't think my car could handle this many boxes," he stated. His
attempt at humor was weak but Jim smiled anyway. Never mind the fact that it was
very true; the Volvo was hardly out of the shop these last couple of days.
Working together, they loaded the majority of Blair's things into the back of
Jim's truck before placeing the last two boxes into Blair's car. They agreed
they would meet at the loft first thing, but Blair paused before climbing into
his small vehicle, looking up at Reiner for a few long moments. He felt Jim come
up beside him and place a hand on his shoulder as an offer of silent comfort.
After so many years working here, teaching and learning, long hours put in at
night and his days filled with such a wonderful workload he had almosted
collapsed under the strain many times. Now it was all gone. Blair Sandburg would
never earn his doctorate now, would never be able to set foot here again without
suffering from rude words and critical sarcasm.
Turning, Blair looked up at Jim. He had gotten good at reading his partner's
facial expressions and knew that he was feeling guilty. It wasn't obvious, but
it was still notable within his eyes. "Don't worry about it, man," Blair stated
firmly. "This is what it has come to and that is the way it's just going to be.
Its too late to have regrets. We just have to get on with our lives."
Jim nodded slowly before, with a final squeeze of Blair's shoulder, moving back
to his truck and starting it up. When he didn't moe, Blair realized he was
waiting for him. Quickly getting into the volvo, Blair lead the way back to the
loft. Trapped with only his thoughts, the young man began to wonder where this
situated him. Without his dissertation to hide behind, there was no reason for
him to continue on as Jim's partner at the station. In fact, after this initial
guilt, Blair wouldn't be surprised if Jim kicked him out. No more diss meant no
more need for Blair to be so close. Jim had finally gotten used to his senses,
for the most part, and there were hardly any zone outs now. The simple fact was
that Blair was no longer needed.
Finally arriving at Prospect, Blair parked in his usual place. The truck parked
beside him and without a word the two men began to carry the boxes up to the
loft. It didn't seem to take as long as it had to pack them, Blair noticed.
Almost too soon they were finished and Blair was sprawled out on the couch with
a beer in his hand and Jim beside him, drinking his own. Naomi, once she'd
realized her mistake, had appologized profoundly to her son before vanishing
again to who-knew-where in order to let him pick up what was bound to be messy
situation without further interferance. There was no trace of her left in the
loft and he didn't know weither to be releived for not.
"This is a day I definately do not ever want to repeat," Blair said, finally
breaking the silence as it became uncomfortable.
Beside him, Jim nodded with a loud sigh. He was silent for a few moments, then
turned to Blair, his hand on Blair's shoulder again. Jim always had been a
physical person, and even under these circumstances, Blair wasn't about to
argue. "Things will work out, Cheif," he said, his tone sounding almost certain.
Nodding, Blair smiled softly. "Thanks, man," he replied, then climbed to his
feet. What he needed was a nice relaxing shower. On the way to the bathroom, the
answering machine caught his eye. There was a message there, and Blair groaned
as he thought of one of the many things it could have been. Pressing play, he
was surprised when Henry Brown's voice filled the room.
"Hey, Hairboy. We all saw the conference here at the Station. Now, we might not
know exactly what's going on but we do know that you are an honest and wonderful
person. We just wanted to let you know that whatever shit you might be going
through right now, the people of Major Crimes are behind you all the way."
It seemed like so long ago when he had gained permission to follow Jim around as
a police observer, there to study the closed-circut system of the police while
at the same time privately going along with Jim to keep his senses under
control. Simon Banks, a good friend of both of them and Jim's boss, had taken
the information about the Sentinel as well as could be expected and had kept it
a secret for three years. The only other that knew was the Australian detective,
Megan O'Conner. Despite all of that, once Blair had worked out his differences
with the police detectives of Major Crimes, they had accepted him and some had
even become friends with him. Now if Jim came into the station without Blair
there was usually a wave of concerned officers at Jim's desk, questioning as to
where the long haired observer had gone.
He was touched beyond words to hear this message, finally knowing for certain
that he had been accepted. Turning to Jim, Blair felt a genuine smile come to
his lips and saw the answering one on his friend. Then he headed for the
bathroom again.
~~~***~~~