500 Miles From Home

by Cheyenne852

A misunderstanding leads Blair to an adventure full of danger.

The Sentinel

500 Miles From Home

By Cheyenne

Blair Sandburg hung up the phone and stared into empty space. This couldn't be right he told himself. He should call Professor Jamison and verify that someone was playing a trick on him. They had to be. These types of opportunities just didn't come along like this. The second one in a year?

He hesitated as a new thought entered his head. What if it wasn't a bad joke being played on him? What if it was for real? Could he go? Did he want to go?

Professor Jamison's research assistant had broken his leg in a car accident yesterday and now the professor was offering the position to Blair. It was only a short project, two months at most, to a remote area of the mountains near the southern Arizona border of Mexico, and he was to be a last minute replacement but it was an opportunity that didn't come along very often. After his turning down Professor Stoddard and Boreno, this was a total surprise to Blair. It may not carry the same prestige as Professor Stoddard's offer but it did give him the opportunity to branch out in his studies.

Blair rubbed both hands through his hair, clutching at it. "AAUUGGHHH!! Why now?" he asked aloud, even though there was no one else in the apartment. He slumped to a chair in silent contemplation, mentally going over his options and the existing factors that affected those options.

Foremost was his work with Jim on his sentinel abilities. Blair remembered how Jim had reacted when he had first told him about Dr. Stoddard's offer to go to Boreno. He hadn't been prepared for his partner's reaction.

Jim had been excited for him, saying he should go. Blair couldn't believe what he was hearing. Every insecurity he'd ever felt in his relationship with the sentinel came crashing back on him. "You want me to go?", he'd asked in disbelief. Jim had said yes, thinking the trip would be for a few weeks and that it was a great opportunity for his friend. Then, Blair had haltingly told him it wasn't for weeks, that it would be for a minimum of a year. A brief flicker of confusion had crossed Jim's face. "What about the sentinel study?" At that moment in time Blair had never felt more torn in his life. He couldn't deny the opportunity that was being offered to him but he also couldn't ignore the opportunity he lived with every day. He had voiced his confusion to Jim, hoping that saying it out loud would help clear some of the turmoil in his own mind. It hadn't, and in the flash of a heartbeat a light had gone out in his friend's eyes. He'd become distant, cold. Jim had said to go but the words had sounded as cold as his voice, like a door being slammed shut. Blair had asked if he was upset but Jim had answered no in a flat, unemotional voice. Blair had just begun to sort through the signals he was receiving from the man when they had been interrupted by the phone call telling them about Simon and his son being lost in Peru. The immediate danger to the police captain had pushed the thoughts and feeling regarding the Borneo thing to the back of their minds. Jim had made his decision to go after his friend and either bring him back or return with his body and Blair was determined to go with him. Jim had made several obvious attempts to leave him behind but Blair had fought and won each time. They had successfully complete their goal and returned with Simon and his son alive and well.

During that trip Blair had discovered Jim's anger had been a cover for his own fears. It was perhaps the first time Blair realized Jim had a few insecurities of his own. Jim had been excited for Blair's opportunity but a minimum of a year would almost certainly end the sentinel study, something Blair had professed his devotion to when he and Jim had first met. That devotion and commitment was one of the deciding factors when Jim had decided to let him stay in the loft after the loss of his warehouse. Jim wasn't an individual who let people close to him and he'd felt betrayed that Blair would chuck it all to follow someone else's work. That's where the anger had come from.

When he'd finally had a chance to sort it all out, Blair realized he didn't have the desire to go after all. It amazed him that he hadn't seen or felt it before. He didn't want to go and he didn't want Jim to want him to go. The friendship they had developed meant a lot to him. In his entire life, he'd never had a friend as close as Jim Ellison or one that he could count on the way he could count on Jim. Blair had told him when he turned down Dr. Stoddard that it was about friendship. He had meant that wholeheartedly. He still did. Not once had he ever regretted turning down the offer to remain with his sentinel studies and his friend. It had honestly been one of the best judgement calls he'd ever made in his life and he'd been rewarded ten-fold since that momentous decision. It 'was' about friendship.

But what about now? Up until lately, Blair had felt he was fitting in and becoming more a part of the police department every day. Some of the guys had even began to include him in after hours gatherings when Jim couldn't make it. He was finally being accepted as something more than Jim's shadow at the station.

It had felt good, being accepted by these people in their world. He hadn't realized how good until things had started to go wrong and he had slowly been ostracized again. Now only Rafe, Brown and Joel Taggart seemed to have time for him. But what hurt most was knowing that Simon didn't seem to trust him any more. Simon was the only other person in the department that knew about Jim's sentinel abilities and therefore, had known why Blair was needed at Jim's side, but a couple of months ago, things had started going wrong between he and Simon and they hadn't improved with time.

Blair shook his head in remembered sadness. It had started so simple. Simon had left a message with him about a change in time on an embezzlement court case for Jim. He was supposed to have been at the hearing at 11:00 and Blair had mistakenly written down 1:00. Jim had missed the hearing and the judge had been furious, not to mention the fact that Simon had chewed Jim out before they had found the note Blair had left showing the wrong time. They had nearly lost the case and the judge had reprimanded Simon and his department for the lack of professionalism on their part. Blair had tried to apologize but that had only been the beginning.

Two weeks later, he had been taking bagged evidence from a murder investigation down to the evidence lockup. Somehow, one of the bags containing a vital piece of information had gotten separated and left on Jim's desk. Simon had found it and knew the chain of custody had been broken. The evidence was useless and they had nearly lost that case, too.

The biggy had been the botched surveillance. He and Jim had been watching the house of a suspected drug dealer, waiting on him to move a supply of cocaine the department had suspected he had on the premises. They hadn't been able to get enough evidence to allow a warrant for search so they had been forced to keep him under surveillance.

Blair had been especially tired and Jim had suggested that he not join him on the stakeout but Blair had insisted he was okay and would be there. He'd been there alright. When it came time for his watch he'd fallen asleep and the man had gotten the drugs loaded and was 4 blocks away before Jim had woken up and spotted the car. There had been a wild chase that ended, not only with the suspect crashing his vehicle but Jim's truck had been sideswiped as well. When Simon had questioned Jim on why he hadn't radioed for backup before the man had taken off, Blair had confessed to his neglect.

Things just hadn't been the same between he and Simon since. There had been other instances, files he'd placed under Johnson instead of Johnston or updated files placed in outdated folders and any number of other little things. True they had been small, but none the less, significant enough for Simon to be having second thoughts again about Blair's being at the station so much of the time. Blair had tried to help, but especially here in the last week things would backfire and he'd wind up back in hot water with Captain Banks. Yesterday's little escapade had almost been the last straw for the Captain. Blair winced and shook his head as he remembered the coffee he had inadvertently spilled on Simon's desk.

Even Jim had been losing his temper with him these days. Blair couldn't blame them, he was continually cursing himself for some of the stupid stunts he'd been responsible for the last few months. It was almost as if he had a black cloud hanging over his head, one that had taken up permanent residence and decided it liked it there. And now, whatever curse was hanging over his head around the police station was beginning to affect him away from the department as well. Jim seemed to be running out of patience at home a lot more often these days.

Am I trying too hard, he wondered. He had honestly been trying to make up for his actions, but each time he did it just seemed to get worse. He had been thinking maybe Simon was right and he needed to distance himself from the station a little more, at least for awhile. This opportunity from Professor Jamison could be a good thing. Blair sighed and nodded to himself. He'd talk it over with Jim tonight.

********************

The stakeout on the warehouse had progressed extremely slow until Jim had received a tip from one of his snitches that Rhymer would be conducting the next exchange himself. That was what the police had been waiting for. They had known about Rhymer for a long time but had been unable to prove his connection to the drug ring. If they could catch him now, making the exchange himself, they'd have enough evidence to not only bust him for this buy but enough to also bring down the rest of his organization. Rhymer was a major supplier for the West Coast and if this went right, it would not only benefit Cascade but the entire northwest.

Jim Ellison scanned the front of the warehouse once again. Still no action. His hand brushed against the binoculars on the seat beside him, a reminder of his partner's absence. With his enhanced vision, he didn't need them, they were there specifically for Sandburg.

Jim leaned forward over the steering wheel, stretching as far as the limited room within the vehicle would allow. He wished again that Sandburg had been able to come along today. This stakeout was running longer than they had anticipated and even though Blair's constant chattering could become nerve-wracking, Jim missed it and him. Nothing was better than a live conversation with someone, especially the conversations he usually wound up in with Blair.

A smile crossed his face. His partner's unlimited knowledge never ceased to amaze him. Blair was a walking encyclopedia, name a subject and he generally had a bit of information on it. Jim's smile deepened, and if he didn't, he'd make something up. The college student kept him on his toes, that was for sure.

Unfortunately, Blair had been called at the last minute to sub for one of the professors at the University that morning and Jim couldn't ask him to change his plans. Teaching was Blair's paying job. When they called, he had to go.

Jim had seen the conflict in his friends eyes, the lingering fear of Jim's possible 'zoning out' on the stakeout without him being there to act as his anchor to guide him back. It was a fear Jim saw in the younger man's eyes every time he went on an assignment or stakeout without him. Blair took his role of guide to the sentinel serious.

Even the past couple of months, when everything Sandburg tried to do seemed to end up in disaster around the station, Blair's concern had been for his partner. He'd worried more about Jim's reputation and safety around the station than he had about his own standing with Simon and the department.

Jim knew he'd been losing him temper more often lately but he was worried that if he didn't get Sandburg out of whatever bad luck slump he was in soon, the results were going to be disastrous for the younger man. Blair seemed to have a distinct disregard for his own safety. He worried that the kid took Jim's title of 'blessed protector' too seriously sometimes. On more than one occasion, the grad student had placed himself in danger to protect him.

Jim sent a glance across the open expanse of the loading area and could just barely see the car with Captains Joel Taggart and Simon Banks neatly tucked between the Tanaka Produce Warehouse and an abandoned semi trailer. Although it wasn't normal procedure for the two captains to join in on an extended stakeout, Jim knew that Joel had convinced Simon to take a break from the pressures and stress of the office for the afternoon. They knew it would have been impossible to get Banks to take a day off, so Joel had suggested the next best thing, a nice quiet few hours on a boring stakeout.

Simon had been under a lot of pressure lately from the Mayor and the Commissioner over the Rhymer investigation. Every time they had thought they were getting close to nailing him, Rhymer had been able to slip away. The frustration was bad enough but now the brass was starting to take notice and they either wanted hard evidence or they wanted Simon's people to back off. Banks was caught in the middle and the stress was beginning to reflect in his attitude.

Jim frowned and was glad Simon couldn't see him. He knew the Rhymer thing was important to the Captain, it was important to Jim too and even though they'd been working on the investigation for more than 3 months, if Blair were here, Simon probably wouldn't be. There was no doubt his partner could be irritating at times and it seemed that no matter what the kid did lately, it got on Simon's nerves. The two of them seemed to bring out the worse in each other these days. Sort of like gasoline and a lit match.

Jim smiled at the thought, he couldn't help himself. He knew that Sandburg had been even more mishap prone the last few months but it seemed that the madder Blair made Simon, the more the hapless student tried to make up for it and the more it would get him in deeper. The incident with the coffee the day before yesterday had almost been too much. It had been Blair's fault but the look of unmitigated horror on the poor kid's face had been priceless. If Simon hadn't been so mad, Jim would have busted a gut laughing. Nobody could tell a story or apologize with nothing but facial features better than Blair. Jim shook his head, hoping his partner's current run of bad luck was a passing phase.

A worried look crossed his face. Blair had told him last night about the offer from Professor Jamison as first assistant on a short research project coming up. Apparently the offer had been made only yesterday and they were needing an answer within the next day.

Jim had quietly listened to Blair telling of the offer and for a long time after he hadn't said anything. He had been surprised to find himself thinking automatically that Blair would turn it down. After all, they'd already gone through this once with Dr. Stoddard. Then as he watched his roommate pacing the floor, he picked up the increase in Blair's heart beat and breathing. The younger man seemed to be torn and Jim realized he was undecided as to the offer. At that point Jim didn't know what to say. He didn't want Blair to go but at the same time he understood the importance of him being offered this opportunity, especially after turning down Dr. Stoddard. Blair was first and foremost, an anthropology student. He hadn't said, but Jim suspected if he turned down a second opportunity for a research position it would adversely affect his future with the University. And it was only for a month or so. The more he thought about it the more sense it made that Blair should go on this project. He'd talk to him tonight and they'd work it out. If Blair felt he should go on this thing, then Jim would encourage him.

A sudden movement at the front of the warehouse caught Jim's attention. Someone was stirring.

*************

Blair waited until Marco had stopped at the corner before opening his door and climbing out of the car. He had accepted a ride with the student and had him stop two blocks from the warehouse that he and Jim had been watching for the past week. When he had received the call this morning to sub for Professor Anderson, Blair had worried about Jim being on the stakeout alone. These long boring stakeouts were where he was most likely to zone-out and if Blair wasn't where to pull him back, there was no telling how long he would be gone. They hadn't really ever tested how deep Jim could go into a zone-out and he didn't want to test it without being able to control the conditions. Blair grinned to himself, If he was ever able to get Jim into the lab again it would make an interesting test.

By the time he had arrived at to the University, Professor Anderson had shown up after all and was in the midst of a discussion about the rituals of body marking among the tribes of the South Sea Islands. It really was a fascinating discussion and Blair didn't mind the false call but his sense of obligation to Jim and the police department wouldn't let him linger for long. If he wasn't needed at the University, he knew Jim would need him at the stakeout.

He had hurriedly found a ride to the warehouse and had decided on walking the last few blocks. He'd tried to call Jim on the cell phone to let him know he was coming but he had forgotten to recharge it last night and the battery was dead again. He cursed under his breath at his forgetfulness. Things were just not going right. He definitely should have taken that tribal curse more seriously.

Jim's warning about showing up unannounced on a stakeout and the danger it caused came back to him. Blair had considered having Marco stop at a payphone but the freshman was already late for an appointment and Blair didn't want to delay him further. He'd just approach the site quietly, slip in and join Jim in the truck. It wouldn't matter this time, Jim had said they didn't expect any action from Rhymer for a few more days.

********************

Jim lined his vision on the front of the warehouse. He had been surprised to see Rhymer arrived a few minutes before. He, Simon and Joel had taken the distraction of the new arrivals as an opportunity to spread out, giving them the best possible coverage of the area. The movement he had seen earlier had been the preparation of the deal going down.

Jim had heard Simon call for immediate backup and for them to use a silent approach; no lights or sirens, but until backup arrived, the three of them were going to have to be enough.

Using his sentinel hearing, Jim turned his attention toward the warehouse. He could just barely distinguish several different voices inside but the size was making the sounds reverberate and echo until it was impossible for him to separate them. This was why he needed Blair. The anthropologist seemed to be the only person capable of getting him to properly filter out the unwanted noises. He gave up and turned down his hearing, maybe if he concentrated on his sight. A small niggle of unease crept into the back of Jim's mind as he watched figures through a window moving about inside. He knew Simon and Joel couldn't see but there was activity behind that window. He scanned the area around him. Something he had heard or seen was out of place. This didn't feel right.

"Simon," he called quietly over the microphone.

"Right here, Jim."

Ellison scanned the area again. With his sentinel hearing he knew the backup would be there within minutes. "Something doesn't feel right." He continued to survey the area and saw his captain stiffen at his words.

"How so?" Banks asked, his own eyes now scanning the area.

"I don't know...for sure. It's just..." Jim's voice trailed off as he turned for a quick glance to where Joel Taggart was braced for action behind a stack of wooden pallets.

Jim's face paled. He spotted Blair emerging from behind his truck directly across from Joel as all hell broke lose. Shots erupted from the warehouse and Jim saw his partner flinch. Fear erupted in his heart. It looked like Blair had been hit.

A warning call hung in his throat as he heard Joel Taggart's voice and an increase in gunfire.

"Blair! Get down!...ommph..."

Jim tried to push his fears away and return his attention to the source of the gunfire. He had heard the call and the grunt of pain from Taggart and knew he and Simon would have to hold off the men inside the warehouse until help arrived. He fired off two more rounds toward the warehouse before stealing a worried glance behind him again. He could hear Simon on the radio again calling for an ambulance and for the backup units to come in code three.

For a split second after the first shot had been fired, Blair jumped then froze in place. From his past experiences with Jim he knew what was happening and he knew he was dangerously exposed. He had made a quick decision to dive for cover behind Jim's truck when he heard Joel's warning and his grunt of pain. Without thinking of the consequences, Blair ran back into the open to assist Taggart.

DAMN!! Jim cursed as he witnessed the action. He didn't know for certain if he was cursing at Rhymer and his people or at Sandburg for his crazy stunt. He heard Simon's gun firing toward the warehouse and turned back to lend his support. He prayed they could throw up enough cover fire for Blair to reach safety and that neither he or Taggart were hurt seriously.

Shots were still being fired from the warehouse when Jim heard the sound of an engine start up inside the building. He focused his hearing on the noise, filtering out the sounds of the arriving backup units. He barely had time for a warning shout to the general area before a car ploughed through the door of the warehouse, taking a good portion of the wall with it. Jim and Simon threw themselves in opposite directions, scrambling for cover as the car roared past and clipped one of the arriving patrol cars in its path. Police officers poured from other units and fired at the vehicle as it disappeared around a corner.

"GET AFTER THEM!" Simon ordered as he picked himself up from the pavement. Two units immediately took off in pursuit.

Simon reached for the radio that had slipped from his hands when he dove for cover, listening to the reports as the cars chased Rhymer. Their carefully laid plans had just come undone at the seams and he was in no mood for further foul ups. He wiped his hands against his pants leg to remove the grit as he went to check on Taggart.

The instant Rhymer's car clipped the police unit and fled, Jim was on his feet and headed for Joel and Blair. He heard the ambulance arrive as he reached the two. Blair was kneeling beside Joel as the large man struggled to sit up. Blair's face was pasty white and he had removed his outer shirt and was pressing it's wadded up mass against Taggart's upper left arm. Jim could see blood covering the sleeve of Joel's jacket and heard Blair's chattering a mile a minute, a clear indication to his nervousness.

"Joel?" Jim asked, taking a closer look at the injury as the paramedics took over. Jim reached for Blair's arm to pull him away from Taggart's side.

"I'm fine, Jim. It's just a scratch," Joel told him.

Jim waited until the paramedic nodded his head in confirmation of the captain's claim before he turned his attention back to his partner. "How about you, Chief?" he asked, running his eyes over Blair's shivering form.

"I...I'm okay. I'm fine." Blair's voice still shook from the adrenaline surge.

"He didn't hit you?" Relief was evident in Jim's voice, but now tinged with anger as Blair nodded his head. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a class to teach." Jim's voice was becoming angrier now that he knew Sandburg had not been hit and he was able to sort through the events of the past few minutes.

Blair didn't seem able to take his eyes off of Joel as the man was loaded into the ambulance. "I...ah... Professor Anderson came in after all... I didn't have to take his class so..." he watched as the medic shut the ambulance door and they left, "...I thought I'd join you on the stakeout," he turned fearful eyes to Jim. His face paled and his voice deadened, "I got Joel shot, didn't I?"

Jim heard the guilt in Blair's voice but before he could answer, Simon appeared beside them, "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" he shouted angrily.

Blair jumped, caught off guard by the harsh words and tone and began to slide out of the captain's reach. "I...ah...I just thought..."

"NO, Sandburg, you didn't think. That's the problem." he shouted. The stress of the past several months had finally broken his temper at the anthropologist. "You waltz in on a police stakeout like it was a Sunday picnic." Simon's voice was beginning to shake with his own anger. "Now I've got a man on his way to the hospital and three months worth of work down the drain," Banks glared at Sandburg, "No, you didn't think."

"Simon, I...I" Blair stuttered. He had started to offer an explanation but stopped himself. He couldn't offer Simon anything in the way of an excuse because there wasn't one. He'd been wrong and he knew it. He'd screwed up... *again*. "I'm sorry, Sir." It sounded lame, even to Blair.

Simon turned away from Blair, his anger finally getting the best of him, "ELLISON!" he shouted, "Get him out of here! NOW!"

Blair watched Simon's back as he stormed away. He had wanted to apologize but couldn't find the right words to do it. Finally he felt Jim tug on his sleeve.

"Come on." Jim said quietly and headed for his truck.

Blair hesitated a moment longer before following Jim to the truck. How had things gone so wrong? He had tried so hard to not cause any more problems for Jim or the department and now... he swallowed hard...Joel Taggart was wounded. Because of him. GOD! Joel, who'd always been a friend to Blair. The paramedics had said something about it not being serious but still... A few inches over and Joel could be dead. And the stakeout... Blair knew they had been working on bringing this guy Rhymer down for a long time. That was destroyed too. He shook his head sadly as he got into the truck, unable to look Jim in the eye.

It took several moment to maneuver the large truck around the police units that had arrived and out of it's parking space. Jim hadn't said anything for quite some time and the silence was deafening to Blair. As they pulled away from the sigh, he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Jim, I'm..." he started.

Ellison held up a hand for silence, his face a mask of stone. "Not now, Chief. Okay?"

Blair closed his mouth and nodded once. He had wanted to apologize to Jim too but could tell from the set of the big man's jaw, he was not ready to discuss it. "Where are we going?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"Out of here," he said.

Blair hesitated, not wanting to push his luck at the moment.

"Can we go check on Joel?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Jim thought about it for a moment. Simon had said to get the kid away from the area and although he didn't think it would be wise to return to the station right away, it wouldn't hurt to go to the hospital. He nodded and made the turn that would take them to the hospital.

******************

Later, at the hospital emergency room, Blair and Jim were still waiting for Joel. They had already been assured that Taggart was in no danger and would be released shortly, but two hours later he still was being kept by the doctor.

The waiting time had given Jim the opportunity to go over the events of the morning. He felt the anger of losing Rhymer once again and knew they were in for an uphill battle from now on if they continued their pursuit of the man. He also knew they had to keep after him. Rhymer was an individual who felt he was above the law and that money was his safeguard against being caught and brought down. The man had no problem using others as scapegoats or stepping stones to get what he wanted. Jim was certain they would eventually catch him, that was certain but how many people's lives would he destroy before they did.

He watched Blair from across the room. His partner had been uncharacteristically quiet since they had arrived. He knew in his heart that Blair had not meant to cause any problems for the department but that hadn't changed the fact that his appearance had warned Rhymer of the police presence and had caused the bust to go bad, ending with Joel being wounded. Jim shook his head. Simon had been having second thoughts about Sandburg's involvement with the department lately anyway. This was not going to help Blair's standing with the Captain or the other officers.

He turned his thoughts inward to examine his own feelings. He was angry about Rhymer, that was a given, but how did he feel towards Blair? Was it anger? He didn't think so. He couldn't deny there were times when he felt like strangling Sandburg, but still the kid was his best friend. That thought made him pause for a moment. He seldom took the time to put a description to their relationship, other than partners.

Their time together had began with Blair helping him gain control over his sentinel abilities. They had made an agreement, Sandburg would help him control his senses and Jim would allow the kid to study him for his doctoral thesis. So when had it changed from a business arrangement to one of friendship? He sorted through the various situations he and Sandburg had gone through since their first meeting and found he couldn't answer the question. He had no idea when it had changed.

From the moment they had met, he'd felt a protectiveness toward the graduate student. Maybe because of his resemblance to the perpetual little brother or perhaps it was his child-like fascination with everything and everyone around him. Blair had the unique ability to see things in a fresh light and he craved knowledge on a continual basis.

A dark thought crossed Jim's face. Maybe that was the problem. If Blair's continual association with the dark and cruel side of the world in connection with the police department was affecting his overall natural effervescence, then perhaps his screwing up was his subconscious way of dealing with it. Oh that's great, Ellison, now you sound like a psych minor.

What ever the problem was, they had to do something about it. This morning's incident was probably the last straw for Simon. Jim thought of his conversation with Blair from the previous evening. He still didn't like the idea but the research project could be just the thing they needed right now. It would get Blair out of Banks hair for a while, giving the captain a chance to cool off and just maybe, some time away from the department would be beneficial for Sandburg.

Jim heard Simon come through the doors of the ER long before he reached the waiting room. From his stride alone, the sentinel could tell the captain's mood hadn't improved. Jim shot a quick glance at his partner. Blair still had his back to the room, looking out the window and apparently was still lost in thought.

"How's Taggart?" Simon growled, coming through the door.

Jim saw Blair jump at the sound of the big man's voice and felt a pang of sorrow because of it.

"He's okay, Simon," Jim looked at his watch and back toward the treatment rooms. "They should be releasing him any time now."

As if on cue, Joel Taggart stepped into the hallway with his left arm in a sling. He spotted the waiting men and walked toward them, closely followed by a nurse.

"Captain Taggart, please. Sir, you've got to take it easy," she was saying.

Jim saw a slight smile cross Simon's face, the first hint of one he'd seen there in a long time.

"You might as well forget about him slowing down, nurse." Simon said, looking pointedly from Joel to Jim, "It seems to be a prerequisite for working in our department. You get shot, you don't obey the doctor's orders."

The nurse shook her head, turned and left as Joel smiled, relieved to see any kind of levity in his colleague. "I'm alright, Simon. It was barely more than a scratch."

"Where have I heard that before?" the captain asked, again looking at Jim. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"What about Rhymer?" Taggart asked, stopping him. "Did we get him?"

Simon took a deep breath and sent a sidelong glance at Blair before answering, "No. He got away in freeway traffic."

Blair had been keeping quietly in the background. He'd already vowed to himself that he would remain quiet and out of the way but he wanted Simon to know how bad he felt for what had happened.

"Captain, I...I just wanted to say..." He paused, searching once again for the right words. There had to be words somewhere that would express how he felt.

Banks held up a hand, stopping him.

"Sandburg,.." He started forcibly before stopping to take a deep breath and visibly trying to control his anger. In a calmer voice he continued, "Do you know where I've been for the last hour and a half?" he asked.

Blair closed his mouth and shook his head. Jim couldn't help but note the look on the younger man's face when he lowered his eyes. A mixture of sadness and guilt. Guilty, caught and the only thing left was the punishment. It bothered Jim.

Simon turned to face Blair, unconsciously towering over him. "I've been on the phone with the Mayor and the Commissioner," he paused, waiting to see if Sandburg would look up. When he didn't, the captain continued,"They want to know what happened," Simon crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You see there's been a lot of pressure to back off of Rhymer, but I told them we were close to nailing him. So, I've just spent the last hour explaining why my police observer was the cause of the man escaping," he paused again, "The Mayor wants to pull your observer credentials but the Commissioner is talking charges of 'obstruction'."

Jim heard the words and stepped forward. No matter what Sandburg had done, that sounded extreme. "Come on, Captain. He wouldn't do that. Would he?"

Simon glared at Jim, then for a moment turned his attention back to a very pale Blair. "I don't know. He could." Simon watched Sandburg continue to stare at the floor. It would have been a lot easier to stay furious if the kid would make an excuse of some kind. But no. He stood there looking for all the world like he deserved and expected to be arrested. That in itself brought forth a flash of irritation. "Come on Taggart," Banks finally said, "You're wife's waiting on you." Simon turned away, ushering the wounded captain out of the hospital.

Jim stood a moment longer, looking between Blair and the departing backs of Simon and Joel. "Come on, Chief," he said, putting a hand on the anthropologist's shoulder and guiding him out the door, "we've got work to do."

Blair followed without comment until they reached the truck. "Ahh...Jim," he finally said, "I...ah...I think it would be best if I didn't go to the station for a while." He nervously looked around, anywhere but at Jim, "I think I'll go back to the University for the afternoon."

Ellison studied him across the hood of the truck, finally agreeing that it might be a good idea if Blair made himself scarce for the afternoon. "If that's what you want, okay. It might be a good idea at that." Jim missed the slight stiffening of Blair's body. "Come on, I'll give you a lift."

"That's okay," Blair spoke up, forcing a lighter tone to his voice, "It's not far. I'll walk."

"What about getting home?"

"I left my car at the University," he said starting to walk away, "I'll see you."

"Tonight?" Jim called after him. Blair nodded and continued on.

Jim watched him walking away. He did not like the feel of this.

****************

Blair didn't stay at the University. There were too many people who wanted to talk and at the moment he didn't feel like talking. Wouldn't that be a shock to Jim and Simon. The fleeting smile that crossed his face was quickly replaced by sadness. Maybe they'd just be grateful. Blair shook his head, mentally chastising himself. That sounded an awful lot like self-pity and he definitely didn't want to go there.

He'd been wrong this morning to appear on the scene of the stakeout without checking in with Jim or the station first, there was no denying that. Jim had warned him of the danger of doing just that several times and now Joel Taggart had payed for his carelessness.

Joel's being injured, Simon called on the carpet by the Mayor and the Commissioner, it was all Blair's fault. He shook his head in self-recrimination, thinking there was Jim, stuck in the middle.

Blair ran a hand across his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a nasty headache. He had returned to the loft and had been staring out the patio doors for close to half an hour, once again going over what had happened and wishing he had done things different. Unfortunately, wishing wasn't going to change the facts or what he'd done. My God!..he thought regretfully, running a hand through his hair in frustration. What ever possessed me to get involved with the police department in the first place? I'm an anthropologist, not a cop.

He had been a fool to let himself believe that he could adapt and fit into the close-knit world of the police department for the sake of his sentinel studies. True, he had learned to fit into various other cultures in his travels, even if it was only for short periods of time. A couple of weeks here, a few months there...but nothing had ever been permanent. Blair frowned as he followed that thought. Maybe that was the problem. In his travels and visits to various parts of the world, the stays had never lasted long. He'd known going into those projects they were for limited periods of time. Even when he had first met Jim and discovered the extent of his sentinel abilities, he hadn't expected the study to last indefinitely.

But, somewhere along the way things had changed. He had discovered, not only an incredible study subject but a friend in Jim Ellison and he'd allowed him to become attached to Jim as an individual. Why had he done that? He'd never been one for long term relationships. His past experiences had taught him that. He thought he'd learned his lesson a long time ago. Never get to close.

Yet, from the first he had felt a kinship with Jim. When the sentinel's heightened senses had begun to manifest themselves the man had almost gone out of his mind not knowing what was happening to him. By a stroke of luck, Blair had put the pieces together and realized not only the importance of what was happening to the policeman, but because of his research he had been able to help Jim learn to control his senses.

He hadn't thought about a time frame on the project, too many other details had plagued him since their first meeting, juggling his duties at the University, his work with Jim and the department, his own studies and basically, everyday survival. Of course, since he had first became Jim's guide, 'everyday survival' had included contact with psychopaths, murders, rogue CIA agents, drug lords and any number of other criminal elements, but..hey...at least it hadn't been dull.

At some point along the way, the research had become friendship. He'd first realized it when he and Jim had gone to Peru to find Simon and his son. That had been the first time he'd realized he didn't want the study to end, if it meant ending his association with Jim on a full time basis, but maybe it was time. Jim seemed to be controlling his senses these days and with the problems Blair had been creating for him and Simon at the department, maybe it was time to move on. That thought hurt more than Blair had expected.

He sighed and nodded to himself, his decision made. The research project would be a good breaking point. He could accept the position and when he returned, he could see how things stood with them. If Jim felt he was dealing with his senses well enough then he could just move on from there. He sighed again, reached for the phone and dialed Professor Jamison's number. He'd tell Jim tonight.

***************

Blair's chest felt hollow. It had all afternoon long since he'd made the decision to leave. After his call to Professor Jamison he had even began to pack. He'd be leaving the next day, so tonight would be his and Jim's last chance for dinner together and no matter how mad Jim might still be, Blair wanted to remember it. He would wait until after dinner to tell Jim about his acceptance of the position.

He had made Jim's favorite for dinner and was just putting the finishing touches on a salad when he heard his roommate enter the loft.

Jim knew when he walked through the door to the loft that Sandburg was home. He could smell the food that waited on him. His favorite dinner? He wondered briefly if this was Blair's way of apologizing, but stopped himself. That wasn't being fair to his partner. He'd known at the hospital that Blair regretted his actions. He had tried to explain that to Simon, but with the mayor and commissioner breathing down his neck and wanting someone to blame, the Captain had been adamant. Jim didn't like it but until things cooled down with the brass, Simon had suspended Blair's observer credentials.

Simon had told Jim to bring Sandburg to the station and he would tell him, but Jim had felt it would be easier on Blair if the news came from him instead, away from the station. Even that was going to be a slap in the face to the young man. Jim shook his head, it wasn't going to be easy to tell him.

"Hi, Chief," he said, tossing his keys on the table beside the door. "What smells so good?"

"Uhh...just some lasagna and a salad," the younger man said, hesitating slightly. Jim sensed the unease in Blair.

"Well, it smells great." Jim told him as he went to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and retreated to the table as Blair brought the last of the meal out.

They ate in mostly silence, the atmosphere strained throughout the meal. Jim felt it and he knew Blair did as well. The kid was way too quiet. His normal vibrance had been subdued the entire time. Small wonder, Jim thought, when you think about what he had been through that morning.

As Jim watched him absently pick through the last bit of food on his plate, the thought struck him that although he and Simon were constantly reminding Blair he was not a cop, they seemed to have forgotten that today. Sandburg may have been careless in his actions but he hadn't done anything illegal, despite the commissioner's claim of 'obstruction'. He began to worry how the younger man was going to react to the suspension. It was going to look like a rejection, no matter how temporary it might be.

When the kid finally looked up, Jim knew he couldn't tell him. It would be too damn much like kicking a puppy. But what was he going to do? Simon had already made his decision.

Jim put his mind into high gear, trying to come up with a solution. He had to think of something that would appease Simon but not send Blair into further depression. A depressed Sandburg was a heartbreaking sight.

Then out of the blue, it hit him. The research project in Mexico. When Blair had told him about it last night, he remembered the kid seemed torn as to whether to accept the position or not, but it would be perfect and he had decided earlier to encourage Blair to accept. Jim wasn't please with the idea of his partner/backup being gone for several weeks but if he could convince Blair to take that offer, it would give Simon, the mayor and the commissioner time to cool down and realize that things hadn't truly been Blair's fault. Now, all he had to do was convince Sandburg. He decided to wait until they had eaten dinner and finished cleaning up the dishes before bringing up the subject.

"I have something to tell you."

"Chief, we need to talk."

Both men spoke simultaneously. They had finished with supper and the dishes and now the time felt right.

"You first," Blair told him, looking for all the world as if he expected to be chewed out again.

Jim watched him unconsciously brace himself. The kid was certainly carrying around a heavy load of guilt. "Chief," he began again, "I was wondering if you had made a decision on Professor Jamison's offer yet?"

Blair's head shot up and he blinked in confusion. This was not what he had expected to hear from Jim. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"I was just thinking that...it might be...a good idea if you took the position," Jim said.

Blair looked into his eyes and for the first time in their relationship Jim couldn't read his partner's face. He didn't know what he had expected but this unreadable expression was a side of Blair that Jim had very little experience dealing with. Usually the young man was bouncing off the walls with excitement at some new discovery or he was talking at warp nine but he was never quietly accepting of anything. Jim continued, "With the way things have been going lately, I was thinking it might be a good idea to take the job." Jim saw Blair's shoulders stiffen, but he was determined to go through with this rather than tell him that Simon had suspended his credentials, "It's only for a month, right?" he finished.

Silently Blair nodded, his insides twisting into knots. What was wrong? He'd already made the decision to take the offer. Everything was set. All that had been left was to tell Jim and hope he understood. So why did it feel like he'd just been stabbed in the gut. Blair turned his back to Jim on the pretense of reaching for a beer from the fridge. With a determination he didn't realize he possessed he smiled, hoping desperately it would mask his inner turmoil. "Closer to two," he said. "And...ahh...we're leaving tomorrow night."

"What?"

Blair shrugged, "I called Professor Jamison this afternoon and accepted the position," he paused, looking into Jim's eyes, "On the condition it's okay with Simon."

"Why does it have to be okay with Simon?" Jim asked him, not quite understanding.

"I just don't want him to think I'm skipping out," he hesitated, "I mean, if they're going to file charges..."

Relief flooded Jim as he waved down the concerns, "Don't worry about that. I'll explain to Simon." This was going much better than he had anticipated. "You're leaving tomorrow?" He asked in a lighter tone.

Blair wanted to scream. The look of relief on Jim's face was almost more than he could stand. His 'partner' was anxious for him to move on and that knowledge hurt more than the guilt of causing Joel to get shot.

"Yes," he finally said, "Professor Jamison is anxious to get started." Blair sat his half empty beer bottle on the counter.

"That quick?" Jim asked. The realization that Blair was leaving was hitting home and Jim was already having second thoughts. Come on Ellison, it's only for two months, he told himself. You lived a long time before he came into your life, you can manage two months. Granted he'd almost been a basket case when his sentinel abilities had first kicked in but with Blair's help he'd at least come to understand them. Two months was a cake walk. He could do this. Two months, huh? That was a long time. He shook his head to clear his negative thoughts.

Jim didn't think either of them had counted on this 'partnership' becoming a long term commitment, he knew he certainly hadn't, but at some point during the past year that's exactly what had happened. The more he learned about his abilities the more he realized that he needed Blair, but more than that, he had discovered someone who accepted him for himself, faults and all. The partnership had become friendship and the sentinel/guide relationship had only strengthened it. Blair might not be cut out for police work but Jim needed him. Desperately. If getting him away from the station for a while would help matters then he would do it. This would give him time to convince Simon to reinstate Blair's status at the department.

"Yes, Professor Jamison is working against a deadline and he needs to leave as soon as possible," Blair paused, determined to keep his voice from betraying his feelings, "I'll be really busy helping with the last minute arrangements. I probably won't have time to come back tomorrow so if you're sure it'll be alright with Simon, I guess this is goodbye."

"You're not leaving tonight, are you?"

"No, but I'll be leaving in the morning before you get up," Blair forced a lightness to his voice, "There's a lot to do," he finished as the phone rang.

Jim reached for the phone, feeling that more needed to be said. "Ellison," he said. "Yeah Simon. Okay. Where? Got it. I'll be there in...15 minutes." Jim hung up and turned back to Blair. He hated leaving when he knew there were was still unfinished business. "Ah...Chief...that was Simon. I have to go."

Blair nodded silently. He understood. Jim's life, as well as his, went on. It was time. He stuck his hand out to Jim. "See ya." He knew it sounded stupid but it was all he could manage.

Jim paused from putting his jacket on, looking at the extended offering numbly. After a moments hesitation he grasped Blair's hand. "I'll come around to the University tomorrow before you leave."

Blair nodded, not really expecting to see him there.

Jim saw the resignation and sadness in Blair's face. Dammit, Simon could just wait a few more minutes. He stopped and turned to face the younger man. "Chief. You've got to stop blaming yourself. It wasn't all your fault."

Blair hesitated only slightly, "But it was, Jim," he said, barely containing his voice, "It was my fault. If I hadn't blundered in on the stakeout, you'd have Rhymer in custody and Joel..." his voice faltered, " Joel wouldn't have been shot."

"No, Blair...."

"Jim. It's okay. This is for the best. Really."

Jim heard the words and was surprised by the depth of guilt he heard in the anthropologist's voice. They needed to talk and work this out before Blair left. He started to remove his jacket but was stopped by the young man's hand on his arm. "Go. Simon's waiting."

He didn't want to leave with so much unsaid but Blair had a point. At this time it wouldn't be wise to risk raising Simon's anger another notch. Jim resettled his coat on his shoulders with a determination to wrap this up as soon as possible so he and Blair could sit down and really talk. "I'll be back," he said, stepping out the door and pausing, still hesitant to go.

His sentinel ears picked up the soft, sad voice for the other side of the door. "So long, Jim."

For long moments after Jim had left, Blair continued to stare at the door. There should have been more to it than that. He'd never been good at goodbye but this seemed...incomplete. Jim's relief when he'd said he had accepted Professor Jamison's offer had cut deep but had confirmed his resolve to go. There was no need in dragging it out and no sense in waiting until he returned from Mexico, he could move his belongings to his office at the University and search for a new place to live when he returned. He couldn't change what he'd done so he might as well start learning to live with the consequences. That didn't make it hurt any less.

*****************

Despite his best efforts, Jim hadn't been able to get to the University to talk with Blair. After Simon's call the previous evening, he had spend nearly the entire time working on the murder of Alicia Huston. The case had gone incredibly fast and they had just arrested her boyfriend. The murder had occurred after the two had argued over whether to split up and date other individuals or not. Guess it didn't matter now, Jim mused. It wasn't often they were able to solve a case that quick but it sure felt good when they did.

He had made several attempts to call Blair but after a half dozen times the cell phone had fried and there hadn't been enough time to go back to the station for a recharge or new battery. He had finally checked the University admission office and learned the research group was supposed to have left at 8:00 that evening but they had been delayed by storms. It was now 10:00 pm and Jim was trying to get to the airport before the plane took off. He had flashed his badge and gotten quick access but had arrived too late. As he approached the gate, he could see the plane taxiing to the end of the runway. He watched until the plane had lifted into the air before he turned away.

He wished he could have spoken to Blair one more time to let him know that by the time he returned from Mexico, things would have cooled down with the department and they would find a way to work things out. He still wasn't comfortable with Blair leaving with that sense of guilt hanging over him, but Jim had consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't like he was going to drop off the face of the earth. He'd be back within two months and surely he'd would hear from him during that time.

Then why couldn't he shake this feeling of unease?

*************

Blair watched the airport buildings disappear through the darkening night as the plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air. They had been delayed once by a line of thunderstorms moving in from the Sound and now a second line was developing. He could hear Professor Jamison and the other students talking in excitement about the project but at the moment Blair couldn't feel any excitement about much of anything. He saw lightening flash in the distance as the last twenty four hours replayed in his mind.

After Jim had left, he had began packing his possessions to move to his office. It hadn't taken long. Most of the things he owned had fit into the three boxes he'd been able to get from a nearby store. Blair had always been one for traveling light and even after living in the same place for more than a year, he still hadn't accumulated much. Books, research papers, his laptop, CD's, personal stereo and clothes had all left more than enough room for the few items he had hanging on the walls of his room. He didn't even consider moving the furniture in his room. It had been purchased at various second hand stores by he and Jim and he had no desire to try moving it. He didn't need it.

He had packed his duffle bag and backpack for the trip then moved the rest of the things to his office. After returning to the loft he had waited up for Jim until after 2:00 a.m. After that he had fallen asleep on the couch and when he awoke that morning, Jim still hadn't returned.

Blair's first thoughts were concern for Jim's safety. Although it wasn't unusual for the cop to be called out and not return for long periods of time, Blair never got used to it.

After failing to get an answer on the cell phone he placed a quick call to the station and was told that Jim was in a meeting with Captain Banks and could not be disturbed. He felt better, at least he knew Jim was okay.

He then showered, dressed and made a final check of the loft to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything important. Important. The thought made his stomach tighten again as the emotion of leaving threatened to overcome him. He fought it down and went to the table to write a note. It took several tries but Blair finally had the note reading the way he wanted it. Not sentimental but he felt Jim would understand. He finished and propped it on the counter where Jim was sure to see it, then took the key to the loft off his keyring and dropped it into the bowl of mail on the table by the door.

He picked up his duffle and backpack and sighing, took a last look around the room. He never realized how much this had seemed like home. He was going to miss it. Blair felt the breeze as he stepped through the door into the hallway. He remembered leaving a window open for ventilation in the loft and someone downstairs must have recently opened the front door creating the draft.

He pulled the door shut and never saw the note he had left, caught by the breeze, sail off the counter to land and slid under the edge of the couch.

The day had passed very quickly. This was to be a small group, only 5 students, Dr. Jamison and himself but they still had a lot of last minute plans to finalize. It had kept him busy the entire day. He had tried to reach Jim on the cell several times during the day and by 7:00 p.m. he'd given up and phoned the station. That conversation still bothered him.

"Major Crimes. Detective Carlisle."

"Uh...can I speak to Jim Ellison?"

"Ellison's out," Carlisle said coldly. "Wanna leave a message?"

Blair hesitated before continuing, "No...wait. Yes. Tell him Sandburg called and I'm leaving now. He'll understand." Blair could hear Carlisle's voice turn even colder.

"Oh I'll tell him alright, punk, but I'm sure he's glad to be rid of you."

Blair had been shocked by the cold voice.

"Excuse me?" he'd asked in confusion. Carlisle had always had an antagonistic attitude toward him but never so openly.

"It's too bad they suspended your credentials," the man gloated, "Several of the guys would like to have had a shot at you for Captain Taggert."

"But, I..."

"You just make sure to keep clear of the station," he continued, "You never know what kind of accidents might happen," he finished, slamming down the phone.

The threat had been clear even to Blair's confused mind. Suspended? Did Jim know? Of course Jim knew. If it was all over the station, he must have known last night. Then why didn't he tell him?

A clap of thunder brought Blair back to the present. The 'Fasten Seatbelt" sign had just reappeared, sending the students back to their seats. An emptiness filled Blair's soul. It really was over. Time to find a way to move on.

***************

Simon watched from his desk as Jim Ellison shoved the report he had been reading back into it's folder and pushed it across the table. Since the failed stakeout, Major Crimes had continued their efforts to link Rhymer to the drugs being brought into Cascade with little success. It seemed no matter how hard they tried, the man was still able to continually slip through their hands. It was frustrating and beginning to affect every member of the department.

Even Sandburg's leaving hadn't changed their luck in catching him. A frown crossed the captain's face. He was still steaming over the fact that Sandburg had been gone three days before Ellison had finally told him. Granted, after telling Jim he was suspending the kid's observer status, he hadn't asked after his whereabouts, but the fact that Jim had knowingly let him leave town still burned. Simon could still hear the ice in Ellison's voice when he had assured him they would be able to reach the kid through the University if they decided to file the charges.

Simon had been surprised at Jim's defensive tone. He was angry at Blair's mistakes and had assumed Ellison was just as put out at the kid. It had hurt that Jim hadn't confided in him on Sandburg's leaving.

Simon never expected the commissioner to actually go through with his threat to file the obstruction charges, but, when he looked back on it now he could see the reason for Jim's cool attitude. Sandburg had been gone for more than two weeks and they weren't any closer to catching Rhymer.

In the mean time, Simon'd had time to cool down and take a good long look at his actions and the actions of his department over the last few weeks. He found it wasn't something he was particularly proud of. He had come to the conclusion that he hadn't been fair to Sandburg. Neither had the majority of the department. Ever since the kid had first begun working with Ellison at the station he had strived to be helpful. It had been an uphill battle all the way due to the notorious 'closed society' attitude of the department, but in spite of his lack of training and the continual snide remarks to him behind Ellison's back, he had stuck it out. Blair had been seen not only as an outsider by the majority of them but as an intruder because of his unexplained acceptance by Captains Taggert and Banks and the ranking detective in the unit, Ellison. Joel Taggart hadn't known what Sandburg's true job was but he had been one of the few who had accepted Blair from the very first and had voiced his pleasure to Simon every time the kid proved himself useful. Simon had always admired Blair for his obstinance. Finally, he had begun to be accepted by even the hardcore cops.

The decision to pull Sandburg's observer credentials had been an unfair move. One Simon had not made himself, even though he had let Jim and the kid believe he had. Sure he had been mad at the kid at the time but the truth was it had hurt like hell when the mayor had ordered it.

Whatever had been going on with Sandburg the last couple of months was not normal for him. He'd been fitting in so well that the people that mattered had begun to forget he wasn't a regular cop in the department. The screw ups that had occurred were serious enough that they worried Simon, despite his anger. Sandburg hadn't made those types of mistakes even when he had first come to the station to work with Ellison. Why now? Simon couldn't see a reason for it.

He steepled his fingers before his face, hiding his observation of his best detective. The two weeks, since Sandburg's departure had not gone well with Ellison. The man had buried himself in work since Blair had been gone, quickly slipping back into his former shell of untouchability. A little more than two weeks and Jim was already showing signs of going nuts without the kid around. Simon had noticed it, as had others.

The fact that the kid made such a big change in Jim's life was crazy, but it wasn't just Jim's life. As much as he hated to admit it, Simon was missing the little pain in the ass, too. Yeah, he told himself, the kid could get on his nerves and there was no explanation for the run of accidents that had plagued him for the two months prior to his leaving but there was no denying that he was an asset to the department.

After he'd had a chance to cool down and think back on it, Simon had realized part of his anger stemmed from the fact that when the kid had first started hanging around Ellison he had picked up on procedure so well Simon had expected him to adhere to the same rules and procedures as the regular detectives. In short, he had not only expected the kid to act like a cop but with the group of seasoned detectives he worked with, he expected him to act like them.

Simon realized now that had been part of the problem. They kept forgetting that the kid wasn't a cop and had never received any training as a cop other than his working with Jim. He really had been to hard on Sandburg.

"Jim?" he said, calling Ellison's attention from the noises that filtered through the door from the bullpen.

"Yes sir?"

Simon hesitated a moment, "Have you heard from Sandburg?"

Ellison visibly bristled before answering, "No. Not yet."

Simon sat up a little straighter. This didn't sound right. "Why not?" he asked.

Jim rubbed a hand at the back of his neck refusing to look at his captain as he searched for the correct words. "He was pretty mixed up when he left. I guess he's giving us some space." Jim's voice carried a mixture of hope, hurt and anger, as if he were trying to convince himself.

"I thought you two talked this out before he left."

Jim shook his head, "No. I didn't get there in time. The plane had already left."

Simon frowned with surprise, "You didn't tell me that!"

Jim still refused to look directly at him, his anger still evident. "If you'll remember, sir. You weren't in much of a mood to hear anything about Sandburg at the time."

Jim's words hit hard even though they were true. At the time, Simon had been furious with Sandburg but he now realized he'd been too critical of the kid, no matter how inexperienced he may have been.

Simon took a deep breath. It wasn't easy to admit that he had been wrong. "Look. Jim.." he started, "I may have been a little hard on the kid..."

"A little hard!?" Jim interrupted sarcastically, finally looking him in the eye.

"Okay," Simon said waving down the rest of Jim's retort, "Way too hard..." Jim nodded as Simon continued, "...but I never thought he'd leave and stay gone." Jim stood up and began pacing the office. "Hell, we've given him grief from day one and he's always kept coming back."

Jim's temper was finally beginning to cool as he heard the note of honesty and concern in his captain's voice. He took a deep breath and sighed, "I know, Simon, but he felt really bad about what had happened and especially about Joel."

For the first time since Blair had left Jim was talking to someone about his feelings. It surprised him to realize how much he had missed the open comradery with Simon.

"Simon, we were all too rough on him. Ever since he first came here, he's been reminded he wasn't a cop but we still expect him to act like one. I know the things that happened were his fault, he knows it too, but they weren't things he had done intentionally. They were accidents, pure and simple. None of them was ever done with malice in mind and I think he more than made up for the mistakes he's made with the help he's given over the last year and a half."

Simon sighed. He was just beginning to realize that also. "What are you going to do?"

Jim shrugged, raising his arms in a helpless gesture, "Nothing till he gets back," a frowned crossed his face, "If he comes back, that is," he said in a lower voice.

"He'll come back." Simon told him with confidence.

Ellison looked up at him. "To town, yes, but I mean here, to the station," he paused, "We weren't the only ones blaming him."

Simon raised an eyebrow in question.

"You know how he is about guilt. He didn't blame anyone but himself and our attitudes weren't telling him anything different."

After a brief hesitation Simon stood from his desk and approached Jim. "Look, Jim," he began, "I've been thinking about what happened. You're right, we were too hard on him. We were wrong. I think the only one who didn't give him the cold shoulder was Taggart and if anyone had the slightest reason to, it was Joel." Jim opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped by Simon. "I said 'if'. I know Joel doesn't blame the kid. Hell, he was telling me to lighten up on him when I drove him home from the hospital."

Jim smiled. Joel Taggart had just earned everlasting respect in Jim's eyes as Simon continued, "But, we won't be able to correct the situation until Sandburg returns."

Jim thought that over for a moment before nodding, "Thanks, Simon," he said, "that means a lot to me and I know, once I pound some sense into that thick skull of his, Blair will appreciate it."

It was Simon's turn to smile. He had missed the friendship between he and Jim also.

"Okay, so where do we stand on the Rhymer thing?" He asked, coming to stand beside Ellison. Simon's eye was caught by activity outside his office. "Ahhh....hold on Jim, I'll be right back." Simon left the office and as Jim turned he saw the captain had spotted the girl who brought the pastry cart around. What was her name again? Crystal? Blair had been trying to talk her into going out with him for a month. Not Crystal, Christy. That was her name.

Jim smiled again as Simon returned with two sticky rolls, handed one to Jim and reached to refill their coffee cups. Jim decided the captain must have decided to cancel his cholesterol watch. For a moment he let the voices from the bullpen blend into a chaotic hum. It crossed his mind that right about now Sandburg would be telling him to focus. Concern crossed his face as he heard Blair's name mention out in the room. It might not have been polite to eavesdrop but Jim justified it with his concern for his partners' future within the department. He consciously focused his hearing, filtering out each voice until he found the one that had spoken Blair's name. Jim's blood ran cold as he concentrated.

"...not to worry. No, the whole thing is still being blamed on Ellison's partner, Sandburg. Yeah, some college student observer. Doesn't matter. I told you, the heat's off us for a long time."

"Jim. What is it?" Simons voice pulled him back enough for him to hold up a hand for silence. He filtered the other sounds and voices out once again.

"They don't suspect a thing. No, tell Rhymer I'll handle it. Yeah. Okay, bye."

Jim winced as the phone was slammed down before he could return his hearing to normal. He had recognized the voice but turned to confirm his suspicions. Vince Carlisle. Jim narrowed his eyes and forced himself to remain sitting. Carlisle had given Blair a hard time from the very beginning. It hadn't helped much that Carlisle was only a so-so detective in the first place.

"Jim?" Simon questioned again. "What is it?"

It took a moment for the implications of what he had heard to sink in on Jim. Somehow Carlisle was responsible for the failed stakeout, not Blair. Jim looked up at Simon before explaining what he had overheard.

"But, how?"

Jim shook his head, "I don't know, Simon." He stood from the table and began pacing, his mind working furiously. Slowly an idea crept into his mind and his pacing slowed. He remembered something Sandburg had instructed him in on numerous occasions. He had to try it. Sitting back down, he concentrated on his memory of the events that had occurred during the stakeout.

...He'd been having trouble focusing on the voices and sounds coming from the warehouse and had just decided to concentrate his efforts on his enhanced sight. He remembered something pulling at the back of his mind. What was it? He frowned, trying to remember. A buzzing? A ringing? No, a twittering sound. A cell phone! That was it. He continued to play the scene in his mind. Although he had switched to sight, sound had not been completely drowned out. "Rhymer." a voice had said, "WHAT!" a pause, "How the hell could.....never mind. No, I know what to do." At that point Jim had turned his attentions to the outside of the building and warned Simon that something hadn't seemed right. He remembered scanning the area; making a note of Taggart's whereabouts and seeing Blair just before he came around from the back of the truck. Jim visualized the area again and realized that the first shots were fired seconds before Blair came into view of the warehouse. It had all happened so fast that they had seemed to come simultaneously. Blair hadn't alerted Rhymer after all. Whoever had made that phone call had been the culprit.

Jim felt a hand on his arm and pulled himself out of the light zone-out and looked into Simon's worried eyes. "What is it?"

Jim rubbed a hand over his tired face, not quite believing what he was remembering. Slowly he began explaining, first the overheard conversation from the bullpen and then the conversation he had overheard at the warehouse.

Simon Banks had long ago stopped doubting Jim's capabilities. He didn't question now what Jim had overheard. "How are we going to prove it?" he asked.

Jim thought for a moment. "Phone records. The one he had just made from here will be on record. We can check and see if any others were made to Rhymer's phone." Jim paused, his anger building again. "DAMN HIM, Simon!" He cursed vehemently and stood to begin pacing again. "And we blamed Blair."

Simon returned to his desk and made a call to his secretary to pull the office phone records for the past two months. "Jim," he said in an effort to placate his detective, "Even the kid blamed himself, we didn't know."

"Still....."

"Still nothing. Let's get to work clearing this up." Simon sent him a dark glare, "I don't like having a dirty house."

Jim nodded, determined to contact Blair as soon as possible and let him know about this turn of events.

**********

It had taken a few days to gather all the evidence, but Jim and Simon were determined to make sure they had an airtight case to present to the DA against Carlisle before they tipped their hand to the man. They did not want him getting away.

After carefully laying a setup to catch not only Carlisle but the elusive Rhymer, they set their plans in motion and it had worked like a charm. They had caught the two of them together and backed with the department phone records, bank statements and various other items, they were able to seal the fate of both men. It had felt good to finally put an end to Rhymer's reign of smug satisfaction.

Jim looked over the last report and shook his head. Carlisle really had been an arrogant bastard. When they had checked departmental records, they found that not only had he made several calls from the station to Rhymer but the day of the stakeout the man had made the warning call to Rhymer from his desk at the department. Carlisle had apparently been passing on information about the departments movements regarding Rhymer for months and that morning he had been unaware that Ellison, Banks and Taggart were still watching the warehouse where the meet was to take place until he had heard the call for backup support from Banks. He had made a hasty call to Rhymer and then had gone calmly back to work.

Jim's hands gripped the arms of the chair he sat in as an outlet for his anger. The bonus of the operation had been when they were able to connect Carlisle to several of the 'accidents' Blair had been blamed for. The 'lost' evidence from the Henderson murder and the misplaced files had been Carlisle's doing.

Jim signed the last report and carried it into Simon's office. They were done. Carlisle and Rhymer were both wrapped up in a nice neat little package awaiting trial. Now, all he had to do was contact Blair to let him know what had transpired. Jim didn't like the idea of the kid carrying around that load of guilt when it wasn't necessary.

A frown crossed his face. The day he and Simon had first made their discovery of Carlisle's deceit, Jim had gone to the loft hoping Blair had left a number where he could be contacted. He had looked through the basket they kept by the door for mail without results. He had then visually searched the kitchen and living room for anything that might have been a note from Blair.

Without his partner there it had been pretty easy to keep the place spotless, well, almost spotless. His eyes caught sight of the edge of a piece of paper peeking from beneath the sofa. He reached down to pick it up and smiled as he realized he actually missed Blair's clutter and that there were still reminders of the kid's presence here and there. Jim straightened, intending to lay the paper aside to put back in Blair's room, but hesitated when he saw it was a note addressed to him. His stomach muscles had tightened as he read.

Jim,

I'm really sorry I screwed up again. I know you're catching the flak from Simon over this. I wish I could change what I did but we both know that's impossible.

You've been the best friend a guy could have. Thanks for putting up with me for as long as you did.

Tell Simon if the department decides to press charges, they can reach me through the University.

See you around.

Blair

Jim read and reread the note several times before he had folded it and placed it in his pocket.

The simple note had revealed the depth of his partner's anguish. Blair hadn't needed everyone else blaming him, he'd been blaming himself enough for everyone.

Jim had decided to look for a contact number for Blair in his room. He had decided he needed to talk to him, straighten this out and convince him that he was needed and wanted at the station.

Jim hadn't entered his partner's room since he had been gone. It was Blair's room, Blair's space. He opened the door and stepped inside, staring in stunned silence. Normally, the anthropologists had papers, books, notes and clothes strewn from one end of the room to the other. This was not anywhere near normal. He did a quick check of the room only to find all of Blair's possessions gone. Everything, even the few items the kid had finally hung on the wall were missing. A cold realization came over him. Blair's note didn't mean he wasn't coming back to the station. He didn't intend to come back to the loft at all.

Jim sank to the edge of the bed, remembering when he had finally convinced the younger man he wasn't going to kick him out of the loft. Blair had told him that the loft and his room with Jim was the first and only place in the world he had ever felt was truly his. A sanctuary away from the world where he could rest and recoup. Even more so than his office at the University. Since that time, Jim had tried to make a point of not intruding into 'Blair's space', although the kid had never denied him access. Except for the furniture left behind there was nothing to indicate that Blair Sandburg had ever lived there.

Jim's first reaction had been anger that the kid would chuck everything and leave that quick but he had quickly calmed himself as he remembered the events that had lead up to his leaving. He reminded himself that his partner's natural instinct was to run when anything got to close or to emotionally involved. Jim had known this from the very beginning of their relationship. That had been mostly Naomi's influence, her idea of raising her son to be independent. It hadn't necessarily been a bad idea but that coupled with her constant stream of men friends throughout Blair's childhood had left the younger man with an insecurity about his importance to any one person and incapable of believing that staying in one place for any length of time was good. The kid had wanted to believe it, Jim had seen it in his eyes; a hunger or maybe a longing. From the first moment he had met the anthropologist, Jim had gotten the feeling that Blair was like a wild animal. Constantly on the lookout for a threat. One unexpected move, one hint of trouble and he would be gone, returning to the sanctuary of distance and hesitant to return for any reason. Sometimes, he was surprised the kid had stuck around for as long as he had.

Jim had left the loft and gone straight to the University, determined to track down a number where he could reach his partner. He didn't feel he could let the situation remain unsettled.

Unfortunately, the University hadn't been any help. The research group was working thirty miles from the nearest telephone and other than a limited range radio for emergencies, their only contact would be when they came for supplies every couple of weeks. Jim had been uncomfortable this the setup, but unless he wanted to physically go to the research site, he'd have to wait until Sandburg returned. It had been a hard realization but Jim had finally resigned himself to it. He'd have to wait.

**************

The fire was mesmerizing and the heat it put off was welcome. It still amazed Blair how hot it could get during the day and be so cold at night. He gathered his wool blanket tighter around his shoulders, listening to the sounds of the night. He loved being out in the open like this. It reminded him of when he and Jim...

He stopped himself from following that particular train of thought. That part of his life was over. The camping trips he had enjoyed with Jim Ellison were a thing of the past. No more. Get over it, he told himself as he hunched deeper into his jacket and blanket and sighed. He was trying, he really was. It was just very hard to deal with the fact that someone and something that had been so vitally important to him was cut off now. Not in death but in some ways worse because they were so close yet so far from his grasp.

Blair shook his head,wondering if that made any sense. Nothing had made any since for a long time. He had resigned himself to not being able to return to the police station but he was having a harder time resigning himself to not returning to the loft and Jim. As hard as he tried to convince himself that the part of his life that involved Jim Ellison and the Cascade Police Department was over, he still kept going back over in his mind what he could have done differently. Could he have changed it? Should he have stayed until Jim physically kicked him out? He knew he wouldn't have done that. That had never been his way of doing things. He'd never allowed himself to become too attached to anyone or any place. You only wound up being hurt if you did. That's what Naomi had raised him to believe and he had lived his life by that lesson.

Until he had moved in with Jim, it had never mattered where he lived. His entire life, living arrangements had never stayed the same for long so he had never tried to keep track of them or form any attachments, but that had all changed with the explosion of his warehouse.

Blair smiled in embarrassment at the memory of how he'd conned his way into Jim's apartment. It wasn't the first time he'd played on someone's sympathies in order to have a place to crash. He had known the big guy had a soft heart and that it wouldn't take much of a sob story to get through his defenses.

It had worked like a charm until Larry had decided to go ballistic and trash the place. Blair had been certain Jim was going to tell him to gather his belongings and hit the road after that. He'd been surprised a week later when he was still in the loft and Jim had told him he had to get rid of Larry if he intended to stay.

That had been it. No formal invitation, no 'let's set the rules right now' (that had come later) just 'get rid of the ape'. Blair had been shocked. He knew he and Jim were worlds apart yet he had never felt as connected to anyone in his life, not even Naomi. The two of them had never talked about it and if Jim felt the same connection he hadn't ever said anything, but Blair's research indicated it was directly related to their sentinel/guide relationship.

Blair knew Jim had a protective streak in him, it was part of his genetic makeup, his sentinel abilities, and the reason he was a cop, but the protectiveness seemed to intensify when it came to Blair. He had tried to define and explain the feeling in his notes but each time they came up sounding like hero worship. Looking at it critically, Blair admitted it could sound that way. He had so much respect for Jim it was hard to keep his notes and observations objective sometimes. He wondered if that was what it felt like to have a brother or a father.

To someone who had never depended on help or security from anyone but himself, it was a new experience to have Ellison watching out for him and the sentinel/guide thing had done wonders at closing the gap between them. He just wished it had been enough to heal the gaps that his own ineptness had created.

He made a physical effort to push those thoughts from his mind. Stop worrying about it. It's over. Yeah? So why did it still bother him and why did he constantly keep coming up with 'what ifs'?

His streak of bad luck had not abated completely. Even out here, in the middle of nowhere, he still had a sense of unease. He couldn't quite pin it down but from the moment they had arrived, something about the entire expedition had been bothering him. It made him jumpy to the point that Professor Jamison had questioned him about it. He'd told him it was nothing and made a conscious effort to keep his feelings to himself.

That had worked for a day or two but then Blair had noticed Professor Jamison's own nerves seemed to be stretched thin, especially every time Captain Diaz, of the local police, came around. Blair didn't like the feeling of distrust that emanated from the police captain.

Police captain, Blair huffed. The man was little more than an armed guerilla with his men backing him every step of the way. He had been nervous around the man from the first moment he'd made an appearance at the camp. The locals didn't seem to like the man any better. The more he and his men hung around, the more hostile the villagers had become.

Blair had run into the hostility, suspicion and distrust before while on research projects, but with few exceptions, the people generally became open and friendly after a while. These people had welcomed them at first and then had become hostile towards the group, backwards of normal. Blair decided this was definitely not good.

The project had finally come to a stand still yesterday. The people of the village were unwilling to have the outsiders among them any longer and Professor Jamison seemed oblivious to it all. Blair and the students had tried all day long to speak with the people with no results. They had been stonewalled at every turn.

He checked his watch once again in the firelight. It was after midnight and Professor Jamison had been gone most of the day with Captain Diaz. Blair had finally made the decision to speak with the professor first thing in the morning. If the people here wouldn't talk to them and were making a conscious effort to exclude them, there was no reason for the research group to remain. They should pack their equipment and return home.

He sighed once again and returned to his tent. Nothing was going to be settled tonight, he might as well try to get some sleep.

***************

Simon was yelling again. Angry accusations and threats. Jim was saying something about it not being his fault. Who's fault? Blair's? Or Jim's? The voices had been low at first, almost in hushed tones then suddenly rose in volume. Full out anger, jarring him toward waking. Oh God! What have I done now? Blair's sleep clouded brain asked.

The voice he had been hearing mutated from Simon Bank's to an unknown, heavily accented voice speaking Spanish, or more correctly, the local dialect of Mexican. Blair understood enough to comprehend that Professor Jamison was being accused of not holding up his end of the bargain. What bargain?

Blair shook his head in an effort to clear the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. Before he could climb to his feet for further investigation, the flap of his tent was pushed open and members of the local police roughly pulled him to his feet and shoved him outside.

He blinked into the lights, putting up a hand to try blocking the harsh glare being shown in his eyes. The light was removed and slowly roamed over the frightened faces of the other students, each one rousted from their tents and sleeping bags. An armed guard pushed one of the students, Paul Brens, more toward the center of the group, causing him to stumble against another student and both of them nearly falling. "Hey...hey...hey!!!" Blair shouted, taking a step toward them in the young man's defense, "There's no need to do that." His own guard blocked his path with the rifle he carried. Blair stopped, looked up into the cold, dark eyes and asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing. He heard a noise to one side and could see the professor standing beside his own tent. "Professor?" he asked, looking toward Jamison and Captain Diaz, standing next to him. "What's going on?"

His blood ran cold as the captain sneered at him. "You, senor, are going home," he said, speaking English and nodding to the armed men. "You have five minutes to prepare to leave. I suggest you use them well."

Blair saw each of the students being escorted back to their tents as he felt a nudge from his own guard. He turned to the professor before entering the tent. "What's going on here, Professor?"

Professor Jamison continued to watch the ground before him. Blair had the impression that he was fighting to remain in control of his own fear.

"Professor?" He asked again. Still no response.

The man next to him eyed the professor contemptuously. "Yes, Professor," tell him what's going on here." Blair didn't miss the emphasis on the title. "Tell him how you've been smuggling artifacts across the border in sealed cartons belonging to your University." The man's voice rose in volume on each word, "Tell him how you betrayed the trust of the people who welcomed you and your group into our midst."

Blair heard the words from the man but a quick look toward Jamison's face told him they were a diversion. He knew something had not felt right about the research project from the moment they had arrived but he had attributed it to his own recent experiences. Another look at the professor's face told him volumes, he may have been smuggling artifacts out of the country but there was more to it than that. Blair's work with the police department let a degree of cyncism and suspicion slip into him once in a while so he knew Diaz was hiding something. "What are you going to do with us?"

Diaz stared into Blair's eyes, never blinking. "To you? Nothing. But we will inform the federal authorities and the media and let them know what kind of representatives your university sends abroad," he paused, obviously please with himself. "Yes. I think the world media would be very interested in what type of 'students' were sent to us by your school," he smiled.

Blair didn't believe for a minute that Diaz wanted attention drawn to his activities. He frowned at the man and took another step toward the still silent professor, "Look, professor, I don't..."

A rifle butt slammed against Blair's head knocking him to the ground.

Jamison came out of his quiet stupor, "STOP!" he shouted, as he finally spoke and knelt beside a dazed Blair. "Diaz, there was no need to do that," he said, his voice shaking with fear and anger as he inspected a gash above Blair's right eye. "Look at me Blair." he instructed, concentrating on the anthropologist.

Blair felt the world spinning as he raised a hand to rub at his forehead. He heard the professor's instructions but didn't make an effort to comply until he saw Diaz and the guard who had hit him take a step back. The blow to the head had not been severe, only enough to break the skin, but it still left him feeling sick and dizzy. The professor checked his pupils as best he could in the limited light and nodded. "I'm sorry this happened Blair," he said softly, "I never meant for you or the others to get caught up in this mess." he finished sadly.

"What mess, professor?" Blair asked in hushed confusion, "What's going on here?"

Jamison gave a little shake of his head and lowered his voice, "I've gotten mixed up in something I never should have had a hand in."

Blair focused his eyes on the man's face. "Is what he said true? Are you smuggling?" he asked, searching the professor's face.

Jamison shook his head, "Not like he says," he lowered his voice still another notch, as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and began to wipe away the blood flowing from the wound on Blair's forehead. "There's more to it than that. Diaz is...." He stopped abruptly.

Diaz had stepped closer to Blair and the Professor, "How is he?" he asked coldly.

"Lucky." the professor said flatly as he helped Blair to stand, pressing the cloth into the young man's hand and motioning him to continue to hold it in place. Jamison had finally worked up the courage to take a stand against the armed men. "There's no reason to involve these kids. They have nothing to do with you or I. Let them go."

"Oh, I intend to let them go, Professor." Again, he emphasized the title. "They will be our examples for what 'not' to do when in another's country. I think the disgrace will serve our purposes very nicely."

Each of the students had returned and were now gathered outside the tents, huddling together in fear and uncertainty. Diaz motioned toward a waiting truck. 'Take them," he instructed his men.

Blair was allowed to return to his tent to gather his possessions before being herded with the other students to the vehicle. As he left his tent, Professor Jamison stepped in front of him and took the bloodied handkerchief from his hands. He pulled another, fresh from his pocket and dabbed at the wound, "You keep that clean and get it attended to as soon as possible," he said softly.

Blair nodded slowly, his eyes searching. He didn't like the suspicions that entered into his thoughts or the professor's tone. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, his eyes darting from Diaz to the older man frantically.

Jamison's voice was filled with sorrow, regret and resignation. "No, Blair. I won't be going back. I'm finished at the University," he locked eyes with Blair, "You get yourself and the kids home. Don't worry about me."

Blair stood for a moment, desperately trying to understand what the professor was trying to relay to him with his eyes. He felt the professor shove the handkerchief back into his hand and place it against his head once more. Blair's eyes widened almost imperceptibly in understanding as he felt a small solid object within the midst of the cloth. He nodded his head to the professor to acknowledge he had received it as the man turned and walked to his own tent.

The guards escorted Blair to the truck where the others were already loaded and waiting. One of them helped the unsteady anthropologist into the back then tossed his backpack and sleeping bag in beside him. Blair heard the hushed voices of the others beginning to ask questions of each other but he tuned them out. He had a bad feeling about this.

A gunshot echoed from Professor Jamison's tent, startling the students and causing them to jump. Blair began to climb from the truck but froze when a guard pointed a rifle in his face. Slowly, he sat back down and watched as Diaz entered Jamison's tent and motioned two guards to help him. After a moment they emerged carrying the limp, blood covered body of Professor Jamison. There was no doubt the man was dead, half of his face no longer existed. Blair turned sickened eyes away from the sight as he heard a quick intake of breath from the students and one of the girls in the group begin to cry softly.

Diaz's face was a hard mask, his voice filled with contempt. "Your professor did not feel he could deal with the consequences of his actions. He has shot himself rather than face you again."

The heartless words were spoken without remorse as the heavy truck pulled out of the research compound and began it's lumbering way through the darkness.

Blair clutched his hand around the cloth the professor had given him. He could feel the solid mass buried deep within it's folds but he refused to check on it until they had reached safety. If they reached safety, he told himself. At that moment, he didn't hold a lot of confidence in any of their long term futures.

**************

For hours Blair and the students huddled in the back of the open topped truck. It's spaced panels creaking as the vehicle made good time through the mountainous area. The guards remained alert and forbade talking among their captives, increasing the fear and anxiety in the group. Blair wanted to try comforting the kids, to try calming their fears and offer them words of hope and encouragement, but the truth was, he didn't have any, he didn't expect any of them to see the light of day.

The only ray of hope he found was that it would have been much simpler for the armed group to kill them back at the research site. He knew the deaths could have been explained any number of ways and although there would have been questions and inquiries, their murderers would have gotten away. A small part of his brain held on to the belief that Jim would eventually find their bodies and catch the men responsible. It was a small thing but at the moment the only source of comfort he was able to cling to. It might be weeks before they were missed and months before they were found but he knew Jim would do it.

Throughout the journey, Blair had done his best to keep track of the distance and direction they were traveling. He had lost track of the distance after a mile or two, the twists and turns making it impossible to follow but he had managed to track their direction of travel, despite Jim's theory that he was directionally dyslexic.

After three hours of nerve-wrecking fear, the truck came to a halt. Daylight was still a couple of hours away and from what Blair could see, his racing mind told him the spot they had stopped looked ideal for hiding or burying bodies. He watched cautiously as the armed guards motioned the students out of the truck and once again herded them into a tight circle. His heart pounded, drowning out the subtle night sounds that had begun again once the vehicle had stopped.

Blair was the last allowed to step down. His eyes frantically searched for an indication of nearby help. It dawned on him that he had been expecting a last minute rescue from Jim Ellison and his heart sank as he realized there would be no 'blessed protector' this time. Jim was a thousand miles away with no idea that Blair needed his help.

Cautiously Blair joined the group of students and turned to face the armed guards. He was determined to try any means of bargaining with the men he could. He was good at talking, he'd talked all his life, he could talk now. His mind continued to race but no words came.

The guards motioned for the students to begin walking. They hesitated until the men aimed their rifles. Blair faced the men and began herding the students behind him down the dusty road, being careful to keep himself between them and the armed guards.

After a few minutes the old truck was revved and the guards burst out laughing as they drove away.

**************

Blair watched the bus pull away from the gas pumps and head north. He could see the worried faces of the kids at the back windows. None of them had liked the idea of his not coming with them, but it couldn't be helped.

Once he had gotten them to calm down after the truck dropped them off, they had discovered a small town within a mile. It hadn't been much, hardly more than a wide space in the road but it did have a regular bus service every other day and the bus was due in two hours. It was also in the U.S.

Sometime during the trip or more likely, after they had been dropped off, they had crossed in to the states. Blair had surveyed the border town and decided, even if they could reach the university, it would not be safe to hang around the place until transportation could be arranged for them. Better to put as much distance between them and Diaz as possible. There was no telling what the man might do if he were given another chance.

They had pooled their money and come up with enough for five tickets back to Cascade. Blair had made the decision that he would be the one to stay behind. He could hitchhike or walk. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it and at least this time, he was in the United States.

He had given instructions to David Anderson to keep the group together and report to the University's Security Department and the dean as soon as they arrived. He didn't know if the news of Professor Jamison's death would reach the school before the students or not, but he wanted the kids to report it as soon as possible.

David had been the most calm during the long fearful hours in the truck. Blair felt he could trust the young man to carry out the instructions as ordered and he would keep the others together. He turned over what folding money he had left to the boy. The kids would need food on the way home. David knew it was the last of the money Blair possessed and had refused with the argument that Blair would need the money more on his trek back. Blair had finally convinced him that he could survive on what he could pick up along the way. It had sounded reasonable at the time. Now he only had to remember that argument himself.

While they had waited for the bus to arrive, Blair had finally remembered to inspect the handkerchief the professor had given him and found a key buried inside. No indication what it fit, only the key. Whatever it fit, it had been important enough to Jamison to make sure it passed into safer hands before he took his life.

Blair had shaken his head and wondered again how he could have missed the signs telling him that the professor had been capable or desperate enough to commit such an act. But, regardless of what the man had done, Blair felt he owed him this last request.

Shortly before the bus arrived, Blair had composed a letter to Jim, telling him what had happened and enclosed the key in the envelope. He had pulled David aside and given the letter to him without mentioning what it contained, along with instructions of delivery to Jim at the station and told him not to let the others know he was sending the letter on the outside chance that Diaz or one of his men decided to follow them.

Blair purposely lied and told the kid the professor had given him the key and he would be taking it back to Cascade. "You remember, if anyone, and I mean anyone, ask about the key or my whereabout you tell them I've got it and that I'm walking back," his voice had been strong, adamant. "Don't lie to them, David. Tell them where you saw me last and that I've got the key, then you get to the nearest police station and have them call the Cascade Police. Ask for Jim Ellison in Major Crimes and tell him the whole story. He'll take it from there."

It had been hard to watch them go but he knew it was for the best. If Diaz came looking for them, he would make a good distraction until they were safe.

He picked up his backpack and sleeping bag and began walking north.

**************

Simon read the report once again, then slowly shook his head. The information wasn't going to change, no matter how many times he read over it. God, he hated having to do this. Things around the station had barely begun to settle after Carlisle's arrest and Jim... Simon shook his head again, deciding there was no sense in putting it off any longer. He looked through the glass window of his office and spotted Ellison at his desk.

"Jim," he called, motioning for him to come inside.

"Yeah, Simon. What is it?"

Without preamble, the captain handed the report to him and waited while he read. Ellison's face paled as the implications sank in.

"When did you get this?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Just a few minutes ago. It came from the security office at the University."

"This says it happened a week ago. Why are we just now finding out about it."

Simon shrugged his shoulders, "Apparently the school's security didn't feel it warranted investigation by this department."

Jim turned to him, anger evident in his voice. "Didn't warrant...?! One of their professors is dead, six students deported and they don't think it should be investigated?" Jim slapped the cover of the report closed and headed for the door.

"Whoa, wait. Jim. Where are you going?"

"To the University," he said tightly. "One of those deported kids was Blair. I'm listed as his emergency contact and I wasn't notified. I want to know why and what's going on," he told his captain as he stormed out of the office.

Simon watched him go. He'd known Jim would react this way. Anytime Sandburg was involved, he became the eternal big brother. Nobody messed with the kid without answering to him. He also knew Ellison wouldn't let it go until he had all the answers. It looked like Blair's 'blessed protector' was on the job again.

***********

Jim couldn't believe the run around he was getting from the receptionist. He had driven straight to the University's security office looking for Suzanne Tamaki. He had wondered why the school's head of security had not contacted him when the report had first come through. She knew of his and Sandburg's partnership and he had felt if anyone could and would help him with the information he was after, it would be her. Unfortunately, she had been recalled to Tacoma for two months on a case she had worked for the police department and her second in command had been gone to Seattle and wouldn't be back until the next day. Jim had said a few uncomplimentary things under his breath about the officer left in charge and then had proceeded to the deans office.

For the past ten minutes, he'd been trying to get the girl to give him some answers. She had refused until he had flashed his badge and demanded to see the dean. Within moments he was admitted into the man's office.

"Detective Ellison," the older man said, standing to extend his hand but remaining safely behind his desk. "What can I do for you?"

Jim studied him through narrowed cops eyes. "Dean Williams," he said, refusing the seat the man offered. "I'm checking in to the death of your Professor Jamison and the deportation of some of your students from Mexico."

Dean Williams frowned and opened a file that had been lying on his desk, "What would you like to know, Detective?" he asked cautiously.

"The details surrounding the professor's death, first of all."

"I'm afraid that is something I don't have all the information on yet."

"Why not?"

The dean carefully folded his hands on the desk before him, measuring his words as he spoke, "We haven't received all the details yet."

"Why didn't you come to the police with this?" Jim asked him.

"I believe, if you'll check, our security department is preparing a detailed report for the police at this moment."

Jim was having a hard time curbing his desire to reach across the desk and shake the answers he wanted out of the man. "Sir," he said stiffly, "I just came from your 'security department' and they weren't very helpful to me. In fact, your head of security isn't even here. He's in Seattle." He made a visible effort to control his anger. "What's the problem? Why are you trying to cover this up?"

Dean Williams eyed the barely contained anger he saw in the officer and decided he had to confide in this man. They needed the help and cooperation of the police department if they were going to get to the bottom of the incident and find the answers they all were looking for.

He finally sighed and resigned himself to answering Jim's questions. "Detective. Our current head of security is in Seattle talking to Mexican and U.S. officials on the matter. I don't have the details you're looking for because we don't have the details yet," he sighed, "Officially, the charges against the professor and the students are theft and attempted smuggling. Now, I don't know if they're true or not but that was the report we received and the report says that Hal Jamison killed himself over it," he sighed again and looked at the open report in front of him. "Right now, the American consulate is making arrangements to have Professor Jamison's body brought back home. We chose to keep the information as quiet as possible for the sake of the University and especially for the students involved," he looked Jim in the eye, "Those kids were traumatized enough, they don't need any publicity connected with this."

Jim felt ice forming in the pit of his stomach, "Traumatized how?"

"From what we can gather, after the accusations by the local authorities, the students were rounded up like cattle in the middle of the night, forced into a vehicle and literally dropped over the border. They weren't allowed to collect anything but the bare essentials and we weren't given sufficient notification or warning to make arrangements for their return home."

Jim didn't like the sound of this at all. "So where are they now? And why weren't their families notified?"

"Their families were notified, Detective Ellison, and all of the students are back except one."

Jim knew which one even before he asked. "Sandburg?"

"Why, yes. How did you know that?"

Jim shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. It figured. "I'm listed as Sandburg's emergency contact. Why wasn't I notified?" he asked, ignoring the question.

Dean Williams eyed him curiously then checked the file in front of him once again and shook his head. "I don't understand. I'm showing Naomi Sandburg as Blair's emergency contact," he said, turning the file around for Jim to see. "We've been trying to locate her but it seems she travels a great deal."

Jim read the file, shaking his head. Shortly after Blair's ordeal with David Lash, he had come to Jim and in a very solemn voice had asked if he minded being listed as his emergency contact for the school. It hadn't seemed very important at the time but later, Jim had realized it had been a step in his partner's complete trust in him. A trust that, although not broken, must have seemed betrayed after his treatment at the police station. Blair had changed the records before leaving.

"Is there a problem?" Williams asked him after a moment.

"Not with this," he indicated the file, "but, why didn't Sandburg return with the other students?"

Despite the situation, the older man smiled. "We don't have all the details on that either. When the kids arrived this morning, they were exhausted. I talked to them for a few minutes trying to find out what happened. They couldn't tell me. I was getting conflicting stories, a couple of them were on the verge of hysteria and they were scared. I thought it would be best if they each had a day or two before they were questioned in detail. We know Professor Jamison is dead, they couldn't help him and apparently Mr. Sandburg won't be back for a few more days."

Jim perked up, "Why is that?" he asked.

"From what I can gather from one of the students, when the authorities dropped them on to the U.S. border, they had very little with them. They were also released in a very rough area. Mr. Sandburg took charge and collected the money each of the students had on them. They pooled it and were able to purchase bus tickets for five of them. Mr. Sandburg put them on the bus with what money he had left for food and told them to stay together until they arrived in Cascade, then make sure they reported to school security and myself what had happened."

"He stayed behind with no money?"

The dean nodded, "He had managed to scrounge a sleeping bag from somewhere and told them he would get back on his own."

Jim finally sank to a chair with conflicting emotions. He wasn't sure if he should be angry at Sandburg or proud of him. The kid had certainly taken charge in a bad situation and made the right decision regarding the students but once again he had placed his own well-being in second place. It was a trait Jim decided he was going to work on as soon as Blair returned.

The intercom buzzed, cutting into Jim's thoughts.

"Yes, Cheryl."

"Dean, I'm sorry to interrupt you but David Anderson is here and asks to speak with Detective Ellison."

Dean Williams frowned slightly at the phone and sent a curious look toward Jim, "Send him in," he said standing once more and proceeding to the door as it opened. "David," he said, "I thought you went home."

Jim, just as curious, rose and turned to greet the young man as he entered. Tired eyes looked out of a haggard face. If this kid was an example of what the others looked like, it was no wonder the dean had sent them home.

The young man shook his head, "I had to do something first," he said and continued to Jim. "Detective Ellison?" he asked.

Jim nodded and shook hands with the student.

"They told me at your office you were here," the kid said sounding relieved.

Jim felt an uneasiness begin within him.

"Blair...Mr. Sandburg, told me to make sure this got directly to you when I got back," he said, handing over Blair's envelope.

Jim took it in his hands. "Ahh...David?" he asked searching for a name.

"David Anderson, sir," the kid told him.

"David. I know your tired but if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions." The envelope remained clutched in Jim's hand. He wanted to rip it open but felt getting answers from the exhausted kid should come first.

The young man nodded and settled into the chair nearest him.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Jim and the dean listened attentively as the student told about the research going bad and without warning being forced out of their tents in the middle of the night by armed 'police'. Jim winced when he told about Blair being hit with the rifle and saw the shock on the kid's face as he described the professors body. By the time he had finished telling the story, Jim realized the kids had not been aware of the reason for the actions taken against them or the reason the professor had committed suicide. Blair may have known but had chosen to keep the information from the students.

Jim felt the envelope in his hand. Maybe it would explain everything. He decided against waiting until he was alone to open the letter on the chance he would need to ask more questions of the kid.

The key fell to the floor when he opened the envelope. He picked it up and read.

Hi Jim,

Guess you didn't expect to hear from me again. I told you I didn't need the police department to get my butt in trouble. I keep doing just fine on my own. For a while here I was really hoping for one of your famous last minute rescues. Guess I've given you enough practice over the last couple of years, huh?

Anyway, I've done it again, Jim. I don't know what Professor Jamison's mixed up in but there's this Police Captain name Diaz who seems to be mixed up in it too. Actually when he yells he sounds a lot like Simon. Except this guy is mean. He really scares me.

I guess you've gotten part of the information from the kids by now but I didn't tell them everything. The professor slipped me this key before he...anyway, he slipped me this key. I don't recognize it and he didn't explain but maybe Sam can figure it out for you. Whatever it fits probably has some information in it that the police would be interested in.

I'm sending the kids home all on the same bus. I figured it was safer for them to go together and me a separate route in case Diaz figured out about the key and came after us. I've got to hurry. The bus will be here in a few minutes.

Sorry to lay this on you Jim but I knew you'd be able to take care of it.

Hope I see you again.

Blair.

Jim noticed that he made no mention of being hit with the rife or being left with no money. This was turning into much more than a research project gone bad. Jim looked at the key as he held it up for inspection.

"Do either of you recognize this?" He asked of the two men.

Dean Williams shook his head but David scrutinized it closer. "Yes. I think I do," he said. "It looks like the key to the safe in Anthro."

"Are you sure? Blair didn't seem to recognize it."

David shook his head, "I'm not positive, but Blair wouldn't have recognized it. The morning before we left, I broke the key to the safe box and the professor had a locksmith come in and replace it," he explained. "I don't think Blair ever saw the new key."

Jim turned to Dean Williams, "Can we try it?"

"Certainly," he said leading the way to the Anthropology Department.

*************

The key had indeed fit the safe in the Professor's office. With the Dean's permission and David's help, Jim had been able to get into the safe. It had contained more than enough documentation to convict, not only Professor Jamison but Luis Diaz as well, on illegal trafficking of antiquities. Diaz would send the artifacts as legal shipments to the Anthropology Department in Jamison's name and Jamison would in turn route them to various buyers. On the surface it had appeared to be a legal operation and apparently very successful. There were also letters and documentation outlining Diaz's efforts to get the professor to include drugs into the shipments. That was where the professor and Diaz had differed. When Jamison had first discovered the drugs, he had foolishly dumped them into the toilet and flushed them away. Diaz had sent 'representatives' to make it clear to the professor that the safety of his wife depended on his cooperation.

One of the last envelopes they discovered in the safe was addressed to "To Whom It May Concern". Inside was a lengthy letter detailing every aspect of the smuggling operation and Diaz and the professor's involvement in it. He also stated that the research project was not connected with Diaz or the smuggling operation and none of the students were to be blamed for any involvement. He continued saying he was sure Diaz would show up at the site and that the man seemed to know his every move.

"That must have been why the villagers were so hostile toward us. He wasn't a real police captain," David said, as Jim looked at him in question. He continued, "The villagers were really friendly when we first arrived, then this Captain Diaz showed up and said he was from the local police. We never questioned it and Professor Jamison never said any different but the villagers became distant and hostile. We tried to talk to them but they finally shut us out completely. That entire last day, the professor was gone and Blair said if the people wouldn't talk to us that we might as well go home. He was going to talk to the professor as soon as he returned."

"Did he talk to him?"

David shook his head, "I don't know. We were all so tired that day. I know Blair stayed up waiting but I don't know if he talked to the professor," he eyes were sad, "I'm sorry."

Jim hurried to reassure the young man, "It's okay, David," he said. "You've been a big help." Jim looked past the young man to the dean for support, "Now, I think you'd better go home and rest." He could see the older man nodding agreement behind the boy.

"He's right David. Go home and rest. I'll see you and the others first thing in the morning."

After he had left, Jim turned back to the dean, "I'll need to take these papers with me as evidence."

"That's fine. Take whatever you need," he said then asked with a serious voice, "Do you think this Diaz would go after Blair?"

Jim thought for a moment as he began placing the papers in a box. It was strange that Diaz had let the students go in the first place. He must have felt certain he had nothing to fear from the them. Jim absently shook his head, "I don't know. He might. But whether he does or doesn't, I don't like the idea of Sandburg being alone." Jim looked at the dean. "Has he called anyone with the university that you know of?" he asked.

Dean Williams shook his head, "No one has reported to me if he has." The man eyed him. "What will you do now?" he asked.

Jim felt the old familiar tension creep into his neck muscles again. "I can't leave him out there. It's been a week and he hasn't called," his face darkened, his decision made. "I'll find him," he said with determination.

The older man was silent for a moment, "Thank you detective." he said as his voice softened, "I've known Blair since he was sixteen. He's always been a hand full, and he is a resourceful young man but I worry about him. He has a habit of getting into things and not asking for help when he needs it."

Jim smiled in reassurance. "I know, Dean Williams. I'll let you know when I find him," he said as he gathered the box of paper and left.

*************

Simon was waiting when he returned with the box of evidence.

"Jim," he called from his office the moment he saw him enter the bullpen. "What'd you find out?"

Jim placed the box of papers on the conference table as Simon stepped from behind his desk. "It's not good, Simon."

The captain shook his head in resignation. "Is it ever with Sandburg?"

Jim couldn't help the half-smile as he related the details and showed him the evidence.

"So what are you gonna do?" he asked when Jim had finished.

The expression on Jim's face clearly said he thought it was obvious, "I'm going to go find him," he said, then wondering if he was missing something, asked, "Why?"

Simon replaced the last of the papers into the box. "Are you going alone?"

Jim thought for a moment, "Yes, unless you can convince the commissioner you don't need to attend his meeting tomorrow morning."

Simon shook his head, "Sorry, no can do but are you sure that's the best way to go?" he asked cautiously.

Jim tried to understand what Simon was getting at but he couldn't get past the idea that Sandburg was alone, possible with a killer drug runner on his trail. "I don't understand Simon."

"Jim, look. You and I both keep forgetting, Sandburg may seem like a kid, but he's traveled all over the world and lived on his own for most of his life. He 'can' take care of himself," he said, stepping back to his desk. "For all you know, he may come waltzing in here any minute to see how much of a headache he can give me today."

Jim couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Simon," he said, "he probably wouldn't have gone on this expedition if he hadn't been treated like the plague before he left in the first place." Simon nodded. "But regardless of that, this guy Diaz, there's no telling what he might do. If he figures out that Blair had that key..." he let the thought trail off.

"I realize that but I need to know, but what 'you're' gonna do?"

Jim was still confused. "I don't understand what you're getting at," he said irritably.

"Jim, suppose Diaz has found Sandburg and, God forbid, harmed or killed him. What will you do?"

It dawned on Jim which direction this was going and he didn't like it. "I'll bring him in." he said finally.

"Will you?" Simon asked. Then to emphasis his point, he continued, "Remember Quinn?"

Jim shifted uncomfortably. He did remember but it was a memory he would rather forget. When the maniac had been about to shoot Simon and Blair, Jim had used his last bullet to blow a stash of dynamite near the man, but that hadn't finished it. Quinn was still moving and trying to retrieve his rifle when Jim reached him. Their struggle had ended with Jim holding him over an abandoned mine shaft and coming within a hairs breath of tossing him straight to hell. To this day, Jim still wasn't sure he wouldn't have done it if Simon hadn't been there. "Yeah, Simon. I remember," he said in a defeated voice.

"All I'm saying, Jim, is I won't be there to pull you back. If he's done anything to Sandburg, you'll lose it. You know it and I know it. You don't think straight where that kid is concerned."

"So you think I should just let him take his chances with Diaz?" he asked, his voice tinged with anger.

"No. That's not what I'm saying. It's just that anytime Sandburg gets in a tight spot, you act like this overprotective big brother. It unusual for you. I've never seen you act that way with Steven."

Jim was definitely uncomfortable now. "I never had the chance with Steven. There was always too much competition between us. But, Blair..." Jim smiled to himself, "He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to welcome it, most of the time." He paused and looked up at Simon, "I know he can take care of himself but not against an armed man. I am going, Simon. I won't leave him out there alone."

"I know that Jim. I just want you focused on this. Not in a blind rage." Jim nodded, finally understanding Simon's concern. "Do you know where to start?"

"I have an idea."

"Then go. Bring him back."

Jim gave his captain a grateful smile as he left.

*************

It had been four days since Jim had left Cascade in search of his friend. After he had gotten off the plane in Nogales, he'd rented a four-wheel drive and gone straight to the small border town where the kids had first boarded the bus. It hadn't been easy trying to follow Sandburg. He was traveling lesser used roads and avoiding the interstates. He seemed intent on keeping as low a profile as he could. Whether it was natural habit for him or he had consciously done it to further hinder Diaz if he were following, Jim didn't know, but he made a point of checking in with Simon several times a day in hopes that Blair would have returned, but so far, no luck.

From what information Jim was gathering, Blair was doing odd jobs along the way for food and sometimes for a warm place to sleep at night.

So far, there had been no mention of another person asking after the kid's whereabouts. That relieved Jim to an extent but he didn't intend to let his guard down completely.

He was just north of Tahoe now, the tall pines and the weather resembling the area surrounding Cascade more and more. It had been raining since yesterday morning. Not heavy, but enough to make everything cold and damp.

Jim hadn't found any trace of Blair since the day before when he'd done a bit of work for a man at a gas station in exchange for breakfast. That meant one of three things, either the kid hadn't eaten since then, Jim just hadn't able to find the spot he'd scrounged a meal or he'd passed Blair somewhere along the way. He thought back to the route he had just traveled. There weren't many places he'd passed that looked promising for a handout. Still, it would be better to be safe than sorry. He decided to backtrack a little.

It was nearing dusk and the rain had settled into a light mist. Up ahead he spotted a sign advertising a diner. He would stop there, ask his questions and grab a bite to eat before heading back.

*************

Blair sat in a back booth at the diner, staring at the mist as it fell. The temperature was dropping outside and he could feel the cold through the glass in the window. He pulled his damp jacket tighter about his shoulders and shivered. He had hoped to dry it completely before leaving the diner but he truly doubted he would, the dampness was clinging to everything. He was not looking forward to another night outdoors but it was beginning to look unavoidable. He sighed softly. He was tired, so tire and only halfway back home. He hadn't made as much progress as he had hoped.

He stared at the empty plate in front of him, feeling the food as it sat heavy in his stomach. It hadn't been the best food in the world but he'd spent almost an hour washing dishes to earn it and it 'had' been the first meal he'd had in two days. He was feeling a little better after having eaten but he could still feel the effects of a lack of food and the toll it was beginning to take on him.

Blair shoved the plate across the table and looked out the window again as his ears picked up a softly playing song from the radio. He recognized the singer from a study he'd done in Nashville three years ago on the subculture contained within the music industry. The music itself was mournful and aptly reflected his mood but it was the words to the song that caught his attention.

It's hard to tell the state I'm in

Where I'm going, where I've been

And I'm still 500 miles away from home.

Melancholy was catching him again and making the memories of what had led him to this point surface once more. His mind crowded with questions and doubts. Should he continue back to Cascade? For that matter did he have anything left to return to, he wondered as he watched water drip from the eves of the building.

He was certain life there would not be the same as it had been before. He couldn't go back to the police station as an observer. Not after that disaster with Rhymer and Jim had been all to glad to see him go. Blair still didn't find fault with him for that though. Jim had never bargained for the amount of trouble Blair had caused when he'd agreed to being studied.

He shook his head in regret. His study was another item he could add to the list. His Sentinel research was pretty much washed up. True he had enough information to write his dissertation but without being able to include a complete sentinel like Jim, it didn't seem worth it and to tell the truth, he didn't have the desire to continue it without Jim.

There wasn't even a guarantee he'd have a job at the university when he got back. He didn't know if he'd be held responsible for what had happened with the expedition or not, but he was pretty sure if the professor had been involved in illegal operations, he would be blamed as well. Hell, he didn't even have a home to go back to.

Blair folded his arms in front of him, briefly laying his head down on them before looking back out the window to gaze at the distant mountains. There was a fork in the road just past the diner. One way would continue to lead him back to Cascade, the other led God knew where. Maybe it was a sign. He'd had always been big on signs. Maybe this was destiny's way of telling him it was time to move on.

Naomi had raised him to be independent, to not need anyone. He'd lived that way his entire life. He had never known who his father was and many times wondered if even Naomi knew. It was just one of those things in life, he'd never had so he had never missed it, therefore, it hadn't mattered. Until now, when he found himself questioning everything in his life, his mother, who his father was, his independence, the people he had left behind, his career and Jim.

Jim had willingly made him a part of his life, Blair knew that. Sure, at first it had been a necessity, with the sentinel being unable to control or understand his new found, heightened senses, but it had changed over the months. Jim had become more than the subject of his doctorate study, he had become the best friend Blair ever known. He had felt it but hadn't known how to deal with it. He had always purposely kept his distance from people, especially emotionally. It had been safer that way. He didn't have to worry about disappointing anyone, if he didn't let them get close. The funny thing was, Jim had been the same way, still was for the most part. Blair had heard the comments from various sources that Ellison had been an immovable rock with his feelings; cold and unbending.

More of the song filtered through to him.

Can't remember when I ate

It's just thumb and walk and wait

And I'm still 500 miles away from home.

If my luck had been just right

I'd be with them all tonight

But I'm still 500 miles away from home.

Away from home, Away from home

Cold and tired and all alone

Yes I'm still 500 miles away from home..

Lord I'm still 500 miles away from home..

Blair sighed again, he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and make a decision. Did he go back to Cascade? Or move on?

He put his head down on his arms again. He really was tired. Maybe the waitress wouldn't mind if he took just a little nap.

**************

A small bell over the door sounded when Jim entered the cafe. He paused a moment to scan the room out of habit. The place was empty except for the waitress, a cook he could see in the kitchen and one customer, apparently asleep in a back booth.

He had started to slide into a seat at the counter before it registered in his tired brain that the huddled form was Blair. He silently shook his head in wonder, his shoulders slumping in relief.

Sandburg was asleep.

Jim faced back to the waitress, "How long has he been here?" he asked gently, indicating Blair.

The older woman had evidently succumbed to the kid's charm. She smiled fondly toward him, "Not near long enough," she said, keeping her voice low. "He came in here a couple of hours ago. Asked if we had any work he could do in exchange for a meal." She absently poured Jim a cup of coffee, "He just finished eating a bit ago and I saw him lay his head down. Poor thing must be exhausted from the looks of him." She paused then almost pleaded with Jim, "Let him sleep a little more. He needs it."

Jim smiled back at her and picked up his coffee. "I will," he said as he walked back to join his partner.

Carefully he slid into the seat across from him and waited.

Before long, Blair roused from his restless slumber, groggily looked around and gave a start at seeing Jim seated across from him.

"Jim, man, what are you doing here?" he asked, rubbing at tired eyes not fully awake.

"Looking for you," he said simply.

"Me? Why?" Then remembrance kicked in full force and his face fell. "Oh. Is the department going to bring me up on charges?"

Jim's heart ached for the hopeless note he heard in Blair's voice. He had not only been falsely accused, but the younger man still believed himself guilty. It was a huge burden to carry around especially in the exhausted and weary state he detected in his young guide. No wonder he hadn't left any messages for Jim or called to ask for help. "No Blair," he said quietly, "there won't be any charges."

Sleep still clouded Blair's mind as he tried to reason this out. "Then why were you looking for me?"

"To take you home, Chief."

It probably shouldn't have sounded funny, but too many things for too long had piled up and at that moment he didn't think things could possible get worse. He was wrong. Jim's mention of home cut so deep into his heart and soul that he wanted to scream. Never in his entire life had Blair thought he would call someplace home much less feel it's loss when it was gone. He'd never let himself become attached to a place the entire time he had been growing up and especially not as an adult. He never knew from one day to the next where he'd be sleeping and it had never seemed to matter. But the loss of the apartment he shared with Jim as a 'home' really hurt. It hurt worse than Blair ever imagined it would. That hurt surprised him and that surprise is what made him laugh.

"What's so funny?" Jim asked, confusion marring his face. He wasn't sure whether to be mad or worried at the kid's response.

Blair shook his head and raised a hand toward Jim. "I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have laughed," he paused, "It's just..." he paused again as he voiced his despair, "...I never really had a place to call home before and..." Jim noticed his voice was winding down rapidly, "...now...now I miss it."

"That's what I want to talk to you about, Chief."

"It's okay, Jim. I already moved all my stuff out," he said in a weary voice.

"That's part of what I want to talk to you about. Why'd you do that?" Jim paused to listen to himself, "No. You don't have to answer that. I know why you did it." he said then heaved a sigh. "Look, Blair. There are some things that need to be explained and apologized for here."

Blair hung his head in despair. "Come on, Jim. Can't you just let it go? Let me go? Do you think I haven't raked myself over the coals enough already? I screwed up. Big time. And there's no way around it. I know I'm finished at the department and with you. Do we have to keep dragging it back up? Just...just let it go. Please." *God he was tired.* he thought, shaking his head sadly.

Jim had heard the words and the amount of guilt in Blair's voice was unbelievable. The fact that the kid was out on his feet was not helping either. He decided before they could have a rational conversation, Blair had to have some rest and proper food. He stood from the table, clasping Blair's arm and helped him to stand. "Come on, Chief."

Blair followed without resistance. He was losing what little strength the meal had provided and he didn't want to make a scene inside the diner.

Jim reached for the backpack and sleeping bag Blair had stuffed into the corner of the booth and after nodding to the waitress as they passed, directed his half-asleep friend outside and to the truck. Jim remembered seeing a motel back down the highway and turned toward it. Blair seemed to have entered a docile, foggy world and didn't seemed inclined to argue about anything.

Jim had felt the heat radiating from the younger man's body as he had helped him from the diner. He knew Blair was sick as well as exhausted. He only hoped a good nights rest would help. If not, he'd find a doctor the next morning.

By the time Jim had gotten them a room at the motel, Blair was asleep in the truck. He hated to wake him but it was either that or he'd have to carry him into the room. He laughed to himself, I can just picture Sandburg's face at that. How many times had Blair accused him of treating him like a child anyway. Jim opened the passenger side door of the vehicle and gently shook him.

"Sandburg. Blair," he said, "Come on, wake up,"

Slowly, Blair opened his eyes, staring at Jim. "Jim?" he asked with a sleep heavy voice.

"Yeah, kid. It's me," he said, reaching for Blair's arm and helping him out of the truck. "Come on. There's a bed inside with your name on it."

Blair offered no resistance to being helped, a further indication to Jim of his exhaustion, "That's good, Jim," he said, "I could use a little nap right now..."

Jim caught him as his legs buckled beneath him and smiled, "I'll just bet you could, junior."

Jim carried him into the room, got his damp clothes off, put him to bed and placed the sleeping bag on top of the blankets already on the bed. He'd felt Blair's forehead and confirmed a rising fever. After making sure he was comfortable, Jim then walked to the small convenience store next to the motel and bought bread and meat for sandwiches and a couple of bottles of water, certain that if Blair woke during the night he would be hungry and thirsty. He also brought back a bottle of aspirin, hoping to get Blair to take them and bring the fever down. As an extra precaution, he checked with the clerk in the motel office and found the closest doctor was thirty miles away. He hoped the fever didn't get worse through the night. On unfamiliar roads, in the dark, it would be slow going.

After waking Blair enough to give him the aspirin, Jim tuned his hearing into his partner's breathing and heartbeat then placed a call to Simon.

"Banks."

"Simon, it's Jim."

"Jim, good," his voice said with relief, "Any luck?"

Ellison glanced over at the sleeping young man in the opposite bed. "Yeah, I found him."

"You did!? That's great."

Simon's voice carried more relief than he had expected from his captain and Jim knew instantly something more was up. "What is it, Simon?" he asked.

There was a hesitation from the other end of the line. "We just got word from the Mexican government. It looks like Diaz may be after Blair after all."

Jim's blood turned cold. "What happened," he asked in a tight voice.

"He got word of the professor's papers and the key he slipped the kid. Looks like he's targeting Blair since the professors' dead." Jim rubbed a hand over tired eyes. "Jim? You still there?"

Jim sighed, "Yeah, Simon, I'm still here."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just that...Blair doesn't need this right now."

There was silence over the phone for a moment. "How is he, Jim?"

It felt good to here the concern in his captain's voice for his partner. Simon could still surprise him once in a while. "He's wore out but otherwise okay," Jim paused, "We'll be back in a few days."

"Okay. Keep checking in and watch you backs."

Jim hung up the phone and glanced at Blair again. No, the kid definitely didn't need this now.

After a moment, Jim checked his gun and placed it within easy reach on the table that stood between the two beds then settled himself against the pillows. It was going to be a long night.

***********

Blair slept through the night and into the middle of the next day. Thankfully, Jim had not needed to wake him for the aspirin again. His fever had remained down. Near noon of the following day, he finally began to stir.

Warm. That's what he was. Warm and comfortable and dry. Blair breathed deep and snuggled down into the warmth, certain when he finally woke completely, he'd be cold and wet once more. He fought the waking but he couldn't stop it. Finally, giving up the fight and resigning himself to the inevitable, he opened one eye.

Peering out, he saw the edge of the sleeping bag and beyond it... a television and dresser? He opened both eyes. It hadn't been a dream, he had heard a TV playing. More than that, he was in a room, a motel room, from the looks of it. He sat up abruptly, looking around in confusion and regretting it instantly as dizziness and nausea took control. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, much less where he was but he could hear the shower shutting off in the bathroom just past the second bed. Blair felt the first tug of panic. He had no memory of how he'd arrived in the room and if that was a woman, this was really going to be embarrassing.

Before Blair could brace himself, the door opened and Jim Ellison stepped out of the steaming room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Blair's mouth dropped open. "Jim?" he said in disbelief, his eyes going wide.

"Hey, Darwin," the cop said and smiled as he reached for his clothes to begin dressing, "You're awake. About time."

Blair was still having a difficult time straightening events out in his mind. "How'd you get here?" He asked, then paused and looked around the room once more in confusion. "How'd 'I' get here?"

Jim paused, concern edging it's way to his face, "Don't you remember?"

Blair closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on foggy memories, but nothing was coming. "No," he finally said reluctantly, "The last couple of days are a little fuzzy. Actually, yesterday's a lot fuzzy," he admitted then looked back to Jim.

Ellison looked him over once more. The kid still looked like hell and he didn't like the idea that he was having trouble remembering the last couple of days. "Do you remember last night at all? I woke you a couple of times. Once to get you into bed then again later to give you aspirin."

Blair lowered his eyes, staring into nothingness as he tried and failed to come up with the memory. "Man, I don't remember anything."

Jim heard the note of panic beginning in his partner's voice. "It's okay, Blair," he said, coming around the bed and placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "I'm really not surprised. You were about ready to collapse when I found you," he paused, not certain if he should continue, but he had already decided Blair should see a doctor before they returned to Cascade and it might make him more receptive to the suggestion if he knew the truth. "As a matter of fact, you did collapse before we got here. I had to carry you in."

His partner's face paled further, then reddened. "Oh that's great," he said lowering his head with a shake, "I can just imagine what that looked like."

Some opportunities should be ignored, others just couldn't be.

"Well, it didn't help when I asked for the honeymoon suite," Jim said with a straight face.

Blair's head shot up. "You didn't," he asked with pleading in his eyes.

Jim instantly regretted his bit of horseplay. Blair had enough stress on him at the moment, he didn't need Jim's version of clowning around. "Blair. It's okay. I was joking."

"I knew that," the younger man told him nervously. Jim watched as his grin faded. "What are you doing here, man?"

"I got your letter," he said.

Blair looked uncomfortable and relieved at the same time. "The kids got back okay then."

Jim nodded, "Yeah. The kids got back okay." He watched his partner's face. "Why didn't you call for help?"

Blair shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "There wasn't time," he said. "I didn't know what Diaz was going to do. I thought it would be best to get the kids as far away as possible."

"That's fine. You did right on that. They're all home, safe and sound." Jim tried to catch his eye. "But why didn't you call for help once you put some distance behind you?"

Blair began picking at the fuzz balls covering the bedspread, unable to look him in the eye. It was a long moment before he answered. "I didn't think I could," he said quietly.

Jim heard the regret in his voice and knew they had to have this out before going any further. "Why?" he coaxed. He had to get the kid to talk to him.

Blair finally raised his eyes to look at him and swallowed hard, "When I told you about going on the research project, you were relieved, man." Jim could hear the hurt in his voice. "You were glad I was going," he paused, "I knew I'd messed up. I couldn't change that, but it still hurt, you know?"

Jim marveled once again at his partner's ability to say as much with his facial features as he could with words. "Is that what you thought? That I was glad you were leaving."

Blair took a deep breath to regain control of his voice and feelings, "Yes. It is."

Jim shook his head, "Chief. Simon had revoked your observer status. With everything else that had happened, I didn't want to have to tell you about it. I was looking for a way not to have to. I thought if I could talk you into going on this project, I could clear this up, get Simon to change his mind before you got back and you wouldn't have to know." Jim saw a tiny spark of hope begin to flare in his friend's eyes.

"I knew about the suspension. I...I thought you were...

"How did you know?"

Jim's interruption caught him by surprise. "Just before the plane took off, I tried to call you one last time. I got Vince Carlisle and he made a good point of rubbing it in."

"Carlisle." Jim said with disgust. "That bastar..." Jim said under his breath, then faced his partner, "Blair, that thing with Rhymer at the warehouse..." Blair ducked his head and started with the fuzz ball harvest again, "...it was Carlisle, not you." The anthropologist lifted is eyes back to Jim, hope evident, as Jim continued, "He was feeding Rhymer information from within the department and we never knew it. That day of the bust he didn't even know we were still at the warehouse until he heard the request for backup from Simon and called and warned Rhymer about the bust that morning. That's how Rhymer knew we were there, not because of anything you did."

"But..."

Jim held up a hand, "No buts, Chief. We not only have the evidence, but Carlisle copped a plea. He and Rhymer are safely away." Jim waited for this information to sink in.

"Why?"

Jim shrugged, "Age old story. Money. Pure and simple." He paused a moment then smiled. "There's more. You know those little 'accidents' and 'mishaps' you've been experiencing the last couple of months? The missing evidence and the little nasties that have been occurring around the station?" Blair nodded. "Part of those were Carlisle too. He was helping them along."

Blair shook his head, "I don't understand what I ever did to him."

"You didn't do anything to him. He's had a grudge against you from day one, simply because you were there."

Despite still feeling lousy, Blair's attitude was brightening, "So does this mean I can come back to the station?"

Jim grinned at him, "I think you'd better. Simon's about ready to put an APB out on you," he paused, "As a matter of fact, he was feeling pretty bad about the way he'd treated you even before we found out about Carlisle."

Blair raised his eyebrows, a grin creeping across his face, "He did?"

"Hey, if I want Simon to know I said that, I'll tell him. Okay?"

"Sure, Jim, no problem."

"Chief." Jim's voice threatened.

Blair raised his hand to wave away concern, "It's okay, Jim. I was just thinking I might need to use that in my defense."

"What defense?"

Blair became serious again. "If the professor really was mixed up in smuggling artifacts then I'm sure the police are going to suspect the entire project and I can just see Dean Williams' being real happy with me about now. I may need a good lawyer." Blair paused for a moment adding almost absently, "I may need a new job. Maybe I could go to work for the police department"

It felt good to see a glimmer of the old Blair, "I thought you didn't want to cut your hair."

Blair shook his head in regret, "I may not have a choice.

"Well, before you take any drastic steps toward the police academy, I better tell you about that key the professor gave you."

"Oh, hey. I hadn't even though about the key. Did you find out what it fit?" he asked.

Jim nodded, "A safe in the professors office containing a letter of confession on his involvement with Diaz and all the documentation we needed to clear you and all the students."

Blair's eyes grew wide again, "For real? The university knows we didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Yep. In fact, your Dean Williams is not only impressed with you but he thinks you're a hero for getting the kids back as quick and safe as you did."

Blair couldn't believe his good luck. Everything was working out too good to be true and his head was spinning from all Jim had told him. He shook his head in amazement.

Jim reached out a hand to help him off the bed, "Come on, junior," he said, "Get yourself a shower and let's go eat. I'm starved."

Blair was still curled up in the blankets of the bed. He took the offered hand to pull himself up and stumbled as a wave of dizziness hit him. Jim caught him, easing him back to the bed as he raised a hand to feel Blair's forehead.

"What are you doing?" the young man asked, swatting Jim's hand away.

"Just checking. You were burning up last night. You still have fever."

"Whoa..That explains why I feel so wiped out."

"That along with exhaustion, dehydration and a severe lack of nourishment," Jim said, shaking his head. "I think we'd better get you checked out."

"Jim. Come on. I'm just tired."

"You're more than tired Blair. You're sick."

"Come on man. Let's eat first. If I don't feel better after that I won't fight you on it. Promise. Besides...I really am hungry."

Jim shook his head. "Okay. For now." He helped Blair up and directed him to the bathroom. Better or not, he would get him to a doctor as soon as possible.

***********

After Blair had finished showering and changing, they had stopped at the same diner to eat. Most of the day before's memories had returned to Blair, although the majority of them were still fuzzy. Jim had watched his partner during the entire meal, secretly monitoring his heartbeat, breathing and the fever he could still detect. Blair had continued to insist he was feeling better and didn't need to see a doctor, but Jim had remained firm in his resolve to get the stubborn kid medical help.

Blair's spirit was definitely lighter. The news Jim had been able to give him had gone a long way at restoring what Jim called his 'bounce', but he was pushing too hard trying to convince his friend of his well-being. Jim caught the drag of his pace as they returned to the rental truck. He reached out a hand to Blair's shoulder, intending to offer assistance if needed.

A shot rang out, echoing through the surrounding mountains and piercing the window of the vehicle next to Blair's head. Startled, Blair looked toward the direction the shot had originated, but made no move to seek cover. Jim shook his head in exaspertion and pulled the still exposed young man to the ground, pressing him to the asphalt between the truck and the vehicle parked next to them.

"Stay down," he ordered.

Slowly, the cop rose to a kneeling position bracing his gun across the hood of the car and scanning the surrounding area. A second shot rang out, clipping a dent into the hood of the car Jim was leaning against. He opened his eyes to the full ability of his sentinel senses and waited for the gunman to give away his location. Beside him he felt Blair push himself to a sitting position.

"Who is it, Jim," he asked.

A slight movement just beyond a line of trees caught the sentinel's attention. "I think it's your friend Diaz." he said, concentrating on the area.

Blair scrambled to his knees to peer over the edge of the car hood also. "What!? Diaz!? What's he doing here."

Jim could here the fear in his partner's voice. Without taking his eyes off of the area he had under surveillance, he reached out a hand to push Blair back to the pavement and out of the line of fire, "Stay down," he said forcibly then continued. "When I called Simon last night, he said the Mexican officials had warned him that Diaz might be coming after you." Jim didn't have to see Blair's face pale to know it had.

"So you just didn't mention it," he stated, his voice edging toward anger. "That's good, Jim. Thanks a lot." Blair slumped against the car, holding his head in his hands. Great. Just when things were getting back on track.

"Relax, Sandburg. I've got you covered."

In the distance, Jim could hear the approach of sirens. Someone inside the diner had called the police. A movement in the trees caught Jim's attention once again. He saw the flash of the gun a moment before he felt a stinging along his left arm. He pushed the pain away and focused his sight on the distant man, firing as soon as he was certain of his shot. He saw him go down as the sheriff's car pulled into the parking lot.

Two deputies drew their weapons as they emerged from the cruiser, one taking aim on Jim, the other sighting in on the man Jim had just shot. "HOLD IT, MISTER!" the young sheriff called.

Jim raised his hands away from his body, displaying his gun for the deputy to see. "I'm a cop," he called back as the deputy neared. "I have my I.D. in my pocket."

Carefully, Jim drew out his Cascade I.D. and handed it over to the officer, all the while keeping an eye on the other deputy as he went to check on the man Jim suspected was Diaz.

After a moment of study the sheriff's deputy handed the I.D. back and motioned for Jim to put his hands down. "What's going on here, Detective Ellison?" he asked.

Jim reached down to help Blair to his feet and watched as the other deputy returned. "My partner and I were just coming out of the diner on our way back to Washington," Jim nodded toward Diaz, "That man has been following us," he indicated Blair behind him, "trying to kill him. He caught up with us this morning."

"How is he, Chris?"

The other deputy shook his head, "Dead," he said, then turned to Jim in admiration, "That was a hell of a shot."

Jim nodded acknowledgment to the man then turned to check on Blair. "You okay, Chief?"

Blair nodded silently then caught sight of a splash of red on Jim's arm, "Jim!" he exclaimed, reaching for his friend's arm, "You're bleeding."

Jim pulled his sleeve up and inspected the wound. It was nothing more than a long deep scratch up his forearm but he knew Mother Sandburg was not going to leave it alone.

"Do you need an ambulance?" the sheriff's deputy asked.

Jim shook his head.

"Come on Jim. It could get infected. You need to have it looked at," Blair pleaded.

Jim knew he wouldn't hear the end of his partner's concerns over the wound until he had taken care of it. An idea struck him. Why not kill two birds with one stone. It wouldn't hurt him to get it looked at and he would use it as a bargaining point to get Blair to the doctor also. The kid still looked pale and feverish. He nodded in consent, "Okay. As soon as the paperwork is done here, I'll go to the doctor."

Blair was immediately stunned and suspicious. Jim never gave in that easily, unless he had some other motive. He eyed his partner. "Really?" he asked.

Jim nodded again, "Sure," he said then grinned. "We're going to be there for him to check you out anyway. I'll have this looked at while we're there."

Blair's face fell, "But..." he started.

Jim held up a hand to silence him. "Aaaaaatt....You don't go, I don't go," he said and watched a thousand thoughts cross Blair's face in the space of a few seconds. Jim couldn't help but laugh when Blair closed his mouth and nodded his consent.

***********

A week later, Blair stood in the police parking garage, waiting on the elevator. This was to be his first visit back to the department since his return to Cascade and he still felt apprehensive. Jim had done his best to reassure him that he was more than welcome back at the station but other than a visit from Simon at the loft, Blair had had no contact with anyone else from station.

The university had already welcomed him back and he had been relieved to hear that Jim hadn't been lying to him. Of course, Jim didn't lie, did he? He was to resume his teaching position when the next term began. That had been a major relief.

He had visited with the kids from the expedition, thanked David for getting the letter to Jim and had given his statement to university security. Except for the occasional nightmare concerning Professor Jamison's death, things were back to normal for him at school.

Now, if he could just get his courage up enough to actually enter the bullpen.

It had taken two days to drive back to Cascade after finishing with the county sheriff and visiting the doctor. Jim's arm hadn't required stitches so they had cleaned and bandaged it then released him. Blair reddened as he recalled that the doctor had wanted to keep 'him' over night. He huffed and shook his head. It just wasn't fair, Jim got shot and they bandage him up and send him on his way. Blair got a cold and they wanted to stick him in the hospital. Of course, they had said it was due to exhaustion, exposure, dehydration and malnourishment but Blair figured that was all in how you looked at it. He had refused and they had loaded him up on antibiotics and instructions for rest and finally released him.

Wouldn't you know Jim would be a bear about following the instructions and the medication.

Now, here he was, on his way back for the first time. The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Hesitantly he entered and held his breath. No turning back now.

He forced himself to remain calm, even though he could feel his heart pounding. He shouldn't be so worried. After all, they wouldn't hurt him. It was just the thoughts of having to start from scratch in his relationship with each of the cops. He'd worked hard to gain their confidence before things had started going bad. It wasn't all your fault, he reminded himself.

He felt the elevator car slow and braced himself, as much for the lingering fear he still felt on elevators thanks to Raichens as for his entrance to a hostile world. He stepped out of the car and stopped in shock and surprise.

Across the entire entrance door to Major Crimes hung a banner reading, "WELCOME BACK SANDBURG!". Blair stared at the sign and cautiously walked forward.

He saw Jim and Simon standing to one side among a crowd, of not only Major Crimes, but people from other departments as well. He looked to them for an explanation. "Welcome back, Chief," Jim said.

Blair's mouth hung open, at a loss for words.

"I don't believe it," Simon laughed stepping forward, "We have finally found out how to shut him up," he grinned then cleared his throat for silence. After a moment he continued, "Blair. On behalf of Major Crimes and the entire Cascade Police Department. We owe you an apology for the way you were treated. We hope you'll accept it." Simon waited until Blair had nodded before gathering his breath again and focusing on a stunned Blair as a more personal tone entered his voice. "Furthermore, I owe you an apology. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you." Blair swallowed hard when Simon continued for the room to hear. "I know Jim has explained what happened but we wanted to let you know how we felt. You're much more than welcome here. You're expected here." Simon grinned at him, "Understand?"

Blair nodded numbly. He knew apologizing was not something Simon took lightly, "Thanks, Simon." Then he turned to face the rest of the gathered people. "Thank you. Everyone. This means a...a lot to me."

He couldn't believe it. All his fears about coming back, all his restless nights spent in wonder and doubt dissipated with those words. He felt more a part of this group than he had ever thought he could in a lifetime of trying. He surveyed the group surrounding him, noting each face and expression. He felt the pats on the back, the words of encouragement and hugs from the females present. It was an incredible feeling. Finally, he felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself standing before Jim.

After a moment to make sure he had Blair attention he smiled, "I told you I had you covered," he said quietly.

Blair grinned and ducked his head. He should have known. "Thanks, man." He knew it was simple but one look at Jim and he knew his partner understood.

Jim clapped him on the back, "Come on," he said, "I think I saw a cake in Simon's office."

Blair's face lit up, "Oh, I hope it's chocolate," he grinned, rubbing his hands together.

He was back. At least until the next crisis.

The End.