Disclaimers: The characters that you recognize belong to Petfly. I am not making any money on these stories.
A warm thanks to my beta, Zoe, who was out of commission for a bit, but is now coming back to be stronger than ever. God Bless you! You are my goddess of all things grammatical and I can't wait to share more stories with you.
Also a very warm thanks to Ari, who saved my ass by pointing out all the incongruities in this thereby giving you a much, much better story than you would have gotten. Thanks Ari for the beta read so that this could be posted sooner.
Thank you to wolfpup for the warm home for my stories. It means a lot.
Warnings: Some H/C, mild Angst, PG-13 for language (I'm sure). This idea came to me after watching an old rerun of Scarecrow and Mrs. King (no comments from the peanut gallery.)
Spoilers: None yet but I'll let you know. There are none.
MIND GAMES
Sam Mallory
Blair sighed heavily as he pushed his fingers through his long hair. "Jim, I told you about this last week. Professor Kendrick needed help with a high profile project and requested that I be his assistant. It's only for two weeks and it's here in Cascade, so you'll still see me every night. I just won't be home until late," Blair explained, his tone exasperated by the number of times they'd had this conversation.
Jim clenched his jaw as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know what you said, Chief. I just think you're overextending yourself with this latest project. I just have a bad feeling about it," Jim trailed off, knowing he would lose this particular argument.
"Listen, I'll be home around 10 PM tonight and we can talk some more then, but I have to go," Blair finished, his voice tight. He hurled his backpack onto his shoulder and headed out the door.
"Very good insight, Blair. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help on this project. My assistant had a family emergency and had to return home on short notice, so I'm glad you were available. Why don't you take a break and have a glass of herbal tea for your trouble," Professor Kendrick suggested helpfully.
"Thanks, Professor Kendrick," Blair responded as he sipped the warm liquid gratefully.
"We'll be working a lot together over the next couple weeks, so please, call me Bill."
"Okay, Bill," Blair tried out the new name. "What do you need me to do next?" Blair finished with a yawn. "Excuse me."
"You need to get more rest if you're going to be putting in these long days, Blair," Bill chided gently.
"You sound like my roommate," Blair grumbled, smiling broadly.
They both laughed and went about their work for the next hour, until Blair faded gently to sleep.
Professor Kendrick smiled at the young man's exhaustion and picked up his cell phone. "Okay, Lee. He's ready," Kendrick voiced firmly into the phone.
Blair woke the next morning in his bed feeling better than he had in weeks. He bounded from the bed and headed for the shower passing Jim in the kitchen. "Morning, Jim, how's it going?" he inquired cheerfully.
"What's got into you, Sandburg? You're full of cheer this morning," Jim observed with amusement.
"What can I say, man? I finally got a good night's sleep," Blair replied as he shut the door to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Blair made it to the table for breakfast, water dripping from his curls. He grabbed a bagel and checked his watch. "Oh man, I'm late, Jim. I've gotta go," he raced to the door, grabbing his jacket and his backpack. "See you at the station around lunchtime. Bye," Blair finished as he shut the door behind him.
"So long, Chief. Since when did you start wearing a watch?" Jim stopped as he realized that Blair was gone, probably halfway down the block knowing how fast the kid was moving.
"That was good, Blair. Now let's go through it again," Lee demanded.
"Success comes one step at a time. I wait for the call. When I hear the phrase 'A Guide protects his Sentinel,' I will follow my instructions," Blair recalled precisely, his eyes glazed over.
"He's almost ready," Professor Kendrick informed Lee Brackett. "What will you be using as his final objective?"
"That is not information that you are privy to, Professor," Brackett snapped as he left the room.
"Blair, a Guide protects his Sentinel," Professor Kendrick reiterated.
"What are your instructions?" Blair asked plaintively, expression devoid of all emotion.
"You will return home, finish your work for tomorrow and go to bed," Kendrick commanded.
"I will return home, finish all work for tomorrow and go to bed," Blair repeated dully.
"You have worked hard, Blair and I am very pleased with your work as my assistant. You will not remember anything of these sessions," Kendrick directed.
"I will not remember anything of these sessions," Blair droned.
"Excellent, Blair," Kendrick commended with a broad smile. His subject was coming along well in his study on the re-mapping of the mind. He was well ahead of schedule and with the demonstration that Brackett had set up for their little guinea pig, he would receive the CIA job without much additional effort. He smiled again at his good fortune.
Blair bounded into Major Crimes looking forward to a laid back weekend. He had finished grading papers and had posted the grades that morning. Aside from a paper for Professor Stetson's Advanced Symbolic Anthropology class he was finishing up, he was home free for the entire weekend.
"Hey Hairboy, what's up?" H called as the young anthropologist bounded across the bull pen.
"Rafe! Brown! Ellison! In my office, now! You too, Sandburg," Simon bellowed scowling as his men filed quickly into the office. "Take a seat, gentlemen."
Simon shut the door loudly and took his seat at the head of the table. "Okay, where exactly are we on the Rita Thomas murder? The Mayor has been breathing down my neck to get this one solved, pronto!"
"Well, sir. We don't have much," Ellison started, Brown and Rafe nodding in agreement.
"Sandburg, lend us your fresh perspective," Simon snapped, irritated by Sandburg's unusual quietness. He'd come to expect the grad student's often times unique insight that he would bring to these case reviews.
Blair pulled out his notebook and flipped the pages to his checklist. "1. There were no signs of rape, so this wasn't about a conventional struggle for power or dominance. 2. The killer left no prints or other DNA on the scene by which we might identify him. This makes him meticulous. 3. The killer posed his victim's body showing a marked preference for minute detail," Sandburg droned until Simon held up a silencing hand.
"Thanks Sandburg," Simon grated, confused a bit by Sandburg's lack of animation. Simon shrugged and continued, "I need more details, people, if we're gonna catch this killer before he kills again!"
"Details are important. Precision is crucial toward organization in life," Blair recited, his empty gaze sweeping throughout the room.
Jim regarded Sandburg with confusion for a moment, then continued his report to Simon.
"Look, sir. We are looking at all the possible angles for the murder at this time and after this meeting, I will be following up a lead from one of my informants," Jim ground out, still watching his partner worriedly.
"Fine, people. Let's wrap this case up! Now!" Simon ordered as he dismissed them with the wave of his hand. "Jim, can I see you for a minute?"
As soon as the last detective headed out the door, and the closed door sealed them off from the bull pen, Simon turned to his best detective. "Jim, what's going on with the kid?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know Simon. He's been sleeping like the dead and making lists, detailed lists, every day of his activities. At first I thought he was just trying to keep track of all the balls he has in the air, but now I'm not so sure. He's been... I don't know..." Jim's voice faded.
"Mellow?" Simon suggested.
"It's more than that, Simon. He just seems so different," Jim forced out.
"Well, maybe the kid just needs some space. You of all people should know how much he overextends himself. Maybe, he's just worn out," Simon finished with a shrug. "Keep me posted, will ya, Jim?"
"Yes, sir," Jim promised as he walked out the door.
"What was that all about?" Blair asked Jim as he came out of the office.
"Chief, let's take a walk," Jim suggested as he put his arm around the younger man's shoulder and led him out the door, grabbing Blair's backpack along the way.
"Okay, Jim. Out with it. What's going on? Is it your senses? What?" Blair demanded as he stopped suddenly. "Come on, Jim. You're starting to scare me."
"I'm scaring you?" Jim asked, smiling wryly.
Blair looked up into his friend's face, his own face awash with confusion. "You're worried about me? Jim, you know I'm fine," Blair reassured his partner.
"You've just been acting a bit... strangely. I don't know how else to explain it," Jim answered quietly.
"Well, I'm a little tired, but otherwise I feel better than I have in a long time," Blair replied, still looking somewhat confused.
"Yeah, you say you're fine, but with the hours you've been putting in here and at the University, you should be about to drop. You've been working about 18 hours a day for the past week, Blair. I just don't see how you'll be able to keep up this pace much longer," Jim chided gently.
"I know, but it's not for much longer. I'm almost finished with Professor Kendrick's work and then it'll just be back to my regular schedule," Blair assured Jim, patting him on the back. Blair grabbed his backpack from Jim and hauled it onto his shoulder.
"What work are you doing for Kendrick?" Jim asked curiously.
"The usual. Cataloging and placing artifacts, etc. Why do you ask?" Blair questioned.
"I tried to get a hold of you last night and there was no answer at the number you gave me and you didn't have your cell. You left it on the coffee table, yesterday," Jim scolded.
"Sorry 'bout that. I was running late and must have forgotten it. Why were you trying to call?" Blair inquired.
"We needed a few things from the store, but don't worry about it. I'll pick 'em up on the way home," Jim reassured his partner.
"'kay, I gotta go," Blair breathed, heading out the door and making a break for the elevator. "Hold the elevator," he hollered.
"Nice job, Kendrick. He's taken instructions quite nicely," Lee sneered as he took Ellison's backup piece from Blair's hand. "We'll save this for later," Brackett said with a smile.
"Blair, A Guide always protects his Sentinel," Lee spoke with a smile, taking pleasure in his choice of a trigger phrase.
"I will comply with your instructions," Blair droned.
"Excellent," Kendrick beamed at his accomplishment.
Devonshire Hotel, 3PM
Jim opened up his hearing, piggybacked on his sight, as he watched the street and surrounding rooftops. Sneaks, his shoe-obsessed informant had told him to expect a hit on his witness and he wanted to leave nothing to chance.
The continuous scanning left him feeling drained, but the witness, Jared Smalley, was turning state evidence against one of the biggest drug bosses on the west coast and it was preferred that he reach the court alive and in one piece. He wished Blair were here to dispel some of the stress of the assignment and help him feel more at ease.
He heard the shot as it left the high-powered rifle from the roof of the building across the street. Jim threw himself in front of Smalley, bringing the smaller man down behind him, his body shielding the witness from the attack. Jim flinched as he felt the bullet hit him in the chest and power him back into his witness with a crushing blow as the air expelled from his lungs forcefully.
"Jim," Simon yelled as he saw the men go down and the protection detail fired at the lone figure on the roof of the opposing building. The shooter was long gone. "Damnit," Simon yelled as the detail hustled Smalley into the car and off to the courthouse.
Jim eased himself into a sitting position. The Kevlar had stopped the penetration of the bullet into his chest, but he still felt as if he'd been hit by a train. "Damn, Simon! What the hell was that?"
"I don't know. One shot and then the shooter was gone. Didn't even check to see if he made his mark," Simon finished, shaking his head in confusion. "How are you doing?"
"I'll live," Jim pronounced as he dragged himself off the ground with a little help. "I want to go check out the shooting site, sir," Jim ground out as he crossed the street and ducked into the building.
"I don't get it, Simon. Guy fires one shot, leaves the casing and walks away," Jim puzzled.
"I wish Sandburg was here. He's a lot better at this Sentinel stuff than I am," Simon grumbled. "Well, are you gettin' anything?" Simon asked, resting his hand on his best detective's shoulder as he'd seen the young anthropologist do countless times.
"Yeah, I smell the gunpowder," Jim started, looking confused. "I don't know, Simon. There's something else here, but I'm just not sure. I'll catalog everything and Blair and I can go over the scene tonight."
Simon looked surprised but supportive nonetheless.
"I'm home," Blair sang as he opened the door and placed his keys in the basket by the door. Smiling, he headed for the kitchen. "What's for dinner? Smells awesome. I am sooooo starved," Blair groaned as he headed for his room to dump his backpack.
"How'd your meeting go this afternoon?" Jim questioned thoughtfully.
"It was okay. Chancellor Edwards droned on and on and on and on about how we all needed to pay more attention to the budget, blah, blah, blah..." he answered with a smile. "How'd the protection detail go?"
"Well someone shot at my witness," Jim started.
"What! Oh my God! Is everybody okay? Are you okay?" Blair switched quickly into his own blessed protector mode.
"Yeah, guy would have taken out my witness but I stopped the bullet..." Jim started before he could catch himself.
Blair's jaw dropped as his eyes fixed angrily on his Sentinel. "You did what? How?" he rasped tightly.
"It's okay, Blair. I had on a vest and caught it in the chest. NO big deal," Jim reassured, his obviously concerned roommate.
"NO BIG DEAL MY ASS!" Blair yelled, his jaw twitching in anger, 'Ellison' style. Blair covered the ten feet to his partner more quickly than Ellison would have thought possible and jerked up his shirt to view the damage for himself.
The left side of Jim's chest had a bruise on it just above the level of the heart and Blair's eyes narrowed further as he took it all in. "I can't believe you did that! You could have been killed," he whispered as he started to tremble.
Jim took Blair's hands and tried to warm them in his own. "I'm fine. Look at me! I'm fine!" He paused a moment to allow Blair to process all the information and assure himself that his Sentinel was safe. "I do need some help, though. I got some info at the shooting site that I need to sift through if you can work your magic after dinner."
Drawing a deep breath as he took a seat at the table, Blair replied, "Sure, no problem." They ate in silence, each consumed by their own thoughts of the day.
After dinner, Blair led Jim through the relaxation exercises and into the scene.
"What do you see?" Blair asked, assuming his Guide tone of voice.
Jim sighed as he settled into the exercise. "A man, 25-35, baseball cap pulled down to cover his face, sunglasses, black turtleneck, high powered rifle with scope, can't make out anything else," Jim droned.
"Okay, try smell," Blair suggested, his hand gently fixed onto his partner's shoulder supportively.
"Woodsy, herbal shampoo, smells kinda like you, Chief, but not quite," Jim replied, a slight frown wrinkling his brow.
"Good, Jim. Now, you said he was right across the street from you. I want you to take a deep breath and relax even further. You heard him even if you don't think you did. That's good. Just breathe," Blair guided.
Blair jumped as Jim flew off the couch. "Oh shit!" Jim cried out as he turned to his partner, his face contorted with confusion. Crossing the room, he plucked the cordless phone from the charger and hastily dialed a number.
"Banks."
"Yeah, Simon. It's Jim. I need you to come to the loft right now and bring a powder kit!" Jim all but ordered his commanding officer.
"Jim! What's going on?" Banks demanded.
"I'll tell you when you get here," Jim retorted as he slammed down the phone.
Blair had jumped from the couch to follow his partner. "Jim? What's going on? What did you hear?" he demanded, not sure whether to be worried or afraid by his Sentinel's sudden, obviously negative, reaction.
Jim held up his hands in front of him to stop Blair in his tracks. "Just give me a minute, Chief, okay? I need a minute," Jim whispered backing away from his partner and heading toward the bathroom.
Jim stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. "It's gotta be a mistake," he whispered beneath his breath. Splashing a little more cold water on his face with trembling hands, he smelled Simon's cigars and went to answer the front door.
Simon stopped, fist raised, sighed and entered the loft hastily. "Now Jim. What the hell is going on here?" he demanded as he handed Jim the powder kit.
Jim crossed the room and pushed Blair down onto the couch. "Have a seat, Chief. You too, Simon."
Jim took Blair's right hand and tested it for gun powder residue. He shook his head disbelievingly as he saw the results. "You've fired a gun recently, Sandburg," Jim accused coldly.
"What the hell are you talking about, Jim?" Simon demanded as he took in the confusion in Blair's eyes.
"Jim, I was at school all day and with you this evening. Besides, you know I hate guns," Blair defended vehemently. He couldn't have shot his Sentinel. That would be completely unthinkable. But it was difficult to dispute the irrefutable evidence sticking to his shaking right hand. He felt sick as the blood rushed in his ears, dimming his hearing.
Jim grabbed Blair's hand forcefully and showed it to Simon as well as the frightened anthropologist. "This says different!"
Simon looked at Blair and read him again. "Jim, look at the kid! You're scaring him."
Blair gaped at the powder residue on his hands. "I have no idea how that got there. You said the guy used a high powered rifle... and I couldn't even begin to guess how to use one of those," Blair stumbled through an explanation, shaking his head, his face pale, and his blue eyes wide with denial.
Jim took a look at his partner and then read his heart rate and knew he was telling the truth. "I know what I heard, Chief. It was your heart beat. Yours!" Jim said forcefully, punctuating the sentence with a finger in Blair's chest.
Blair paled further as he shrunk into the couch, shaking uncontrollably.
"Shit, Jim. Why isn't anything ever easy with you two!" Simon cursed.
Jim looked over at Blair who was trembling in the chair next to him. "It's gonna be okay, Chief. You told me Ari was the best hypnotist that you know and one of the best in the field so don't worry." Jim reassured his partner.
"True. But I didn't tell you that we used to date. It ended badly and I haven't seen her for almost four years," Blair replied, trying to adapt a meditative calmness.
"Detective Ellison, you guys can go on back now," the receptionist purred with a smile.
Jim returned her smile as he headed back with Sandburg in tow. Blair looked like he was walking into the lion's den.
"Lighten up, Chief. How mad can she be after four years?" Jim teased, trying to lighten the tension for both him and his partner.
As they stepped into the office, Dr. Arianna Michaelson accepted Detective Ellison's hand. "Detective Ellison, how can I help you today?" she asked helpfully before taking a look at his partner. Glancing up into Blair's face, she gasped and slapped him and strode to her desk.
"That mad," Blair whispered, Sentinel soft.
Jim smiled slightly and walked over to the chairs at her desk. "I see that my partner needs no introduction."
She smiled warmly up at him. "Please Detective, have a seat. You too Blair."
Jim sighed at the amount of trouble his Guide could get into. "I know we're probably asking a lot given your obvious dislike of my partner, but we need your help," Jim started plaintively. "What do you know about brainwashing and mind control?"
"What do you want to know, Detective?" Ari responded confidently.
Jim was impressed that her heart rate had remained level, a possible indication that she was comfortable with the subject. "I need to know how familiar you are with their tactics, the means by which personality submersion is achieved, etc. I need to know how well versed you are in the subject, Doctor," Jim finished curtly, thinking back to the times that he had used mind control in Covert Ops to deal with particularly difficult 'witnesses.'
"I wrote my Dissertation on Coercion Through Mind Control. I think I'll be able to answer any questions you may have, Detective," she said coldly, but with the appropriate amount of decorum and professionalism.
"Could someone make me kill Jim?" Blair asked quietly, his voice shaking with emotion.
"Of course. If you have access to the appropriate pharmaceuticals and equipment you could get Mother Theresa to kill the Pope," Ari began her explanation. "It's more like brain reprogramming. The drugs are used to heighten the person's susceptibility to the particular influences of the training. Once you get the person trained on a specific trigger, you can get them to do pretty much anything."
Blair paled noticeably at her clinical description.
"Would you be able to tell if someone did this reprogramming on my partner?" Jim inquired.
"Possibly. I'd have to put him under to do it and at this point I don't think I could because he doesn't trust me enough to let go of the conscious state," Ari explained, refusing to make eye contact with Blair. She could still remember the pain he caused her when he walked out the door. He refused to trust her with his heart.
"Let's give it a try. He trusts me and I'll be right here to make sure nothing goes wrong," Jim promised with a touch of venom. "You up for it, Chief?"
Blair nodded. "I'll do almost anything to find out what's going on. If you hadn't been wearing a vest, you'd be dead!" Blair mumbled.
"I was wearing a vest, so let's just drop it and get this going. Doctor Michaelson?" Jim directed, wishing they didn't have to depend on someone who was so obviously hostile toward his Guide. Jim bristled at her coldness.
"Okay, Blair. I need you to watch the flame on this candle. Memorize the way it dances in the light... inhale deeply... good. Now, hold it. Close your eyes and exhale slowly. You're opening your mind and entering a restful state. Blair, can you hear me?" She paused awaiting his answer.
"Yeah," Blair whispered.
"Excellent. Open your eyes," Ari finished as she smiled over at Jim. "He's under. What do you need to know?"
"Ask him where he was at three o'clock yesterday afternoon," Jim replied, handing her the list of odd behaviors that he'd seen Blair exhibit over the past week.
"Blair, what were you doing yesterday afternoon at 3:00?" she asked.
"I had a departmental meeting," Blair answered.
Arianna shrugged as she glanced back at Jim, then looked down at the list. "Blair, why did you start making a daily To Do list?"
"Details are important. Precision is crucial toward organization in life. Success comes one step at a time," Blair droned unemotionally.
"Tell me about yesterday's list," Ari inquired.
"Teach Anthro 101 at 9AM, go to Anthro 652 at 10AM, Teach Anthro 101 at 11AM, hold office hours from noon until 2PM, Meet Dr. Stoddard from 2 to 2:30PM, kill witness at Devonshire at 3PM, extended office hours from 3:30 to 5PM, Loft for dinner with Jim at 6PM..." Blair listed.
"That should be enough, Blair. Just relax," Ari instructed, then turned to Jim. "Is that what you were looking for?"
"Yeah," Jim whispered. "Is there anyway to deprogram him or find out what his instructions are? Or who did this to him?"
"I can't deprogram him without the trigger, but maybe I can figure out who the programmer was," she replied before turning back to Blair.
"Blair, who gives you your instructions?" Ari asked hopefully.
Blair gasped as he grabbed handfuls of soft brown curls and proceeded to rip them out to stifle the pain that cleaved his head. He started to shake with the effort of fighting against the pain and the keening noises that escaped from his throat were truly horrifying.
"Damn!" "Shit!" Ari and Jim responded in shock as they leaped for the sofa to ensure that Blair would come to no harm as the pain had brought him out of his hypnotic state.
"I can't get any more without doing some serious damage here," Ari told Jim as she deftly injected a mild sedative into her patient. "You've got to find a way to get the trigger."
"I don't even know where to look. How long would it take someone to exert this much influence over him?" Jim asked, an idea playing at his mind.
"They could get him compliant to the trigger in a few days and set him up for orders in less than a week, depending on the pharmaceuticals they're using. They would have to be using some pretty strong meds along with outside stimuli to get Blair to go completely against his value system like that," she finished as she made her way back over to her desk.
"What about a blood test to find residual pharmaceuticals in his system? It could give you a clue to what we're dealing with," Jim suggested, wanting a resolution to this as quickly as possible to alleviate his friend's suffering.
"I'll call it in as a rush for the lab down the hall. They owe me a favor," she said, smiling compassionately.
"Is there anything I can do?" Jim asked worriedly.
"Not really. If you lock him away, you'll never get the trigger and then he'll spend the rest of his life waiting to be used again. Your best bet is to proceed normally and hope whoever is doing this makes a mistake. Keep an eye on him. Sorry, Detective Ellison, I wish I could be of more help to you," she replied, then turned to Blair and took his hand in hers.
"Blair, I'm truly sorry for what has happened to you. I hope they find the bastards responsible," she spat with more venom she thought possible for all the hurt Blair had caused her four years ago. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Here's my card. It has my home and cell phone numbers as well," she finished, handing him the card with tears in her eyes.
"Thanks, Ari," Blair responded warmly, a faint smile touching his lips as he enveloped her in a light embrace.
"Thanks, we'll get back to you when we have the trigger," Jim promised as he gently roused Blair.
"That sedative should help him sleep for the next few hours. I figured he could really use the rest. He always used to push himself too hard," Ari reminisced with a sad smile playing at her lips. In all the time she had been with Blair, he had never been still for more than a few seconds. She really missed his energy... and his love.
"He still does," Jim mumbled as he helped a stumbling sleepy Blair to his feet and out to the truck.
"Simon, Dr. Michaelson said there's nothing we can do but keep an eye on him until we get the trigger," Jim reported.
"Damn! Where is he now?" Banks demanded.
"He's sleeping. He's exhausted, Simon," Jim sighed. "He kept mumbling that I should be taking him down to the station and putting him in a cell, but I just can't do that to him, Simon. We've got to find out who's behind this!" Jim raged, his temper flaring dangerously.
"Easy, Jim. Losing your temper won't help the kid. The only reason that formal charges have not been brought against him is for lack of evidence. We don't have a weapon, a witness (closer than a few hundred feet) or any other means to tie the kid to the crime. The powder residue tells us he fired a gun. It does not, however, place him anywhere near the scene. We've got nothing that would be admissible. Hell, the DA would laugh us out the door! Just keep an eye on him and keep me informed," Banks ordered as he hung up the phone.
"Yes, sir," Jim replied, replacing the phone in the cradle.
"Blair, take the protection detail... please!" Jim begged, yet again, glancing at Rafe and Brown appreciatively. "Listen, Blair. You're my partner and I know you can take care of yourself, but I think that your Professor Kendrick is in on this. That means that your safety at the University has been compromised," Jim explained exhaustedly, hoping to convince his Guide to be reasonable.
"Jim, you don't have any proof..." Blair started.
"Look, Kendrick's background is heavy into mind control experiments. He was suspended from one of the University's out East for using brainwashing on one of his students. The charges may have been dropped, but that hardly matters to someone like Kendrick. He's a parasite that feeds off people that he manipulates for his own reason and he's had unrestricted access to you for the past week," Jim tried again, beginning to lose his patience.
"Alright, I'll concede that he's probably involved. What if I kill whoever you send with me? I couldn't live with that! I'm having enough trouble with the fact that I shot you!"
"It wasn't you, Blair. You were being manipulated and we need to get the bastards doing it!" Jim raged.
"Blair, no arguments. You'll take the bodyguard with a big smile on your face and a 'yes sir, thank you, sir'," Simon ordered him, doing his level best not to yell at the distraught anthropologist.
"Fine! Come on," Blair motioned to his guard, Rafe, who would have donated body organs if it would have gotten him out of this assignment. He thought Blair was a great guy, even a good friend, but he wasn't looking forward to the number of pieces Ellison would reduce him to if something happened to the young anthropologist. He wanted to take him to the safe house, but Blair adamantly refused. Therefore, this assignment was going to suck. He was out in the great wide open with a programmable assassin that normally wouldn't hurt a fly.
Blair stalked across Major Crime, Rafe tailing him silently as they made their way to the Volvo so he wouldn't be late for class.
"Jim, he is so damn stubborn. How in the HELL do you put up with him?" Simon complained loudly.
"Well sir, he lives with ME, remember. If he wasn't so damn stubborn, he'd never have lasted this long with all the crap he's had to put up with!" Jim replied sarcastically.
"Never thought of it that way," Simon mumbled as Jim made his way back to his desk. Cursing, he picked up the phone and arranged for full surveillance on Kendrick. Maybe, just maybe, he'd screw up and they'd get a lucky break.
Blair groaned as Rafe followed him back to his office so that he could record grades.
"I know you don't want me here, so pretend I'm not!" Rafe suggested helpfully.
"It's not you, Rafe. It's just hard enough to concentrate when I'm the only one in here and with someone else, it's downright impossible. I don't suppose I could talk you into going and getting us some coffee, could I?" Blair begged openly.
"And face Ellison in what will surely be my last moment on earth? I don't think so. Face it, Blair. You, my friend, are a 'trouble magnet'. In the 2.3 minutes it would take me to go down the hall and get coffee, you will have managed to get drawn into the middle of an argument, which just happens to take place outside your door of all the doors on the entire campus. You being your usual helpful self will check to see what's going on and get stabbed by a 7-inch knife for your trouble," Rafe drawled attempting to lighten Blair's increasingly dark mood.
"Then I, now being a walking dead man with my days most definitely numbered, will have to contact Ellison and tell him that his partner has been stabbed! So I ask you, if you were me what would you do?" Rafe took a breath and continued without waiting for an answer. "That's right, Blair, you Rafe, being not only a good detective but a snappy dresser as well, would not move your ass from Blair Sandburg's sight! End of Discussion," he finished with a rueful smile as Blair burst out laughing at Rafe's increasingly dramatic tone and gestures.
"Wow! Who knew I could cause so much trouble? Man, you really missed your calling. The drama department's in Murphy Hall across campus. I know some of the professors over there. Maybe I can get you an audition," Blair teased with a smile. "Thanks, Rafe. I really, really needed that!" Blair said, his eyes shining brightly at the momentary relief in the tension level he had been trapped at.
A knock at the door brought them to seriousness.
"Who is it?" Blair asked cautiously.
"It's Lisa. Why's the door locked, Blair?" she asked as Rafe opened the door for her at a nod from Blair.
"Just a precaution, Miss. Nothing to worry about," Rafe assured with a smile.
Lisa shrugged and smiled affectionately at Blair. "Well I was gonna run over to Starbuck's and grab some coffee and wanted to see if you wanted to join me," she cooed, openly flirting.
"Too much grading, and I've gotta be in class soon, but thanks, maybe next time," Blair replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Lisa blushed and bolted from the room. "'Kay Blair, but don't work too hard. You know what they say about all work and no play," she teased.
"Yeah, but it shouldn't be a problem. Give me a call and maybe we can go to the Symposium next month," Blair offered as Rafe began to close the door.
"Sounds great," she beamed as she headed down the hall.
"Come on, Rafe. I need to get to class. Jim's gonna be here at noon to pick me up for lunch."
Rafe stepped outside of the office to check the hall as Blair packed up his bag. Just as Blair was about to leave, the phone rang.
"Blair Sandburg," he answered hurriedly.
"A Guide always protects his Sentinel," the voice said on the line.
"What are your instructions?" Blair answered as he had been trained.
"Today, you will walk into Major Crimes and kill Simon Banks in his office at precisely 1:30. Then complete your instructions," Brackett instructed.
"Anything else?" Blair questioned unemotionally.
"No, that will be sufficient," Brackett assured.
Lee Brackett sighed and sat back smiling broadly as Blair hung up the phone, turned and left his office for his next class.
"Rafe, come on man. I'm gonna be late to class," Blair prodded as he locked the door to his office.
"Who was that?" Rafe asked the young anthropologist.
"One of my professors," Blair replied, with a shrug. "Come on, I'm gonna be late!" he called again as he raced across campus toward his class, Rafe keeping pace by his side.
Lunchtime couldn't come soon enough for Rafe. "I'm telling you Sandburg, if I ever complain about how busy I am at the station, I want you to remind me of today and then secure my firearm so I'm not tempted to shoot you with it. How in the hell do you have the energy to work at the station after a day like today?" Rafe demanded.
"Today wasn't that bad, Rafe. I didn't have any meetings or labs today. Wait 'til tomorrow," Blair promised with a huge grin as the young detective brushed his fingers through his hair with a groan.
"Great, remind me to bring an industrial size bottle of aspirin tomorrow," Rafe teased as Jim pulled up to the curb outside Hargrove Hall. "There's your ride," Rafe gestured to the truck and they approached it tiredly, or at least Rafe approached it tiredly. Blair bounced all the way there.
Blair sighed as he leaped into the truck.
"Thanks, Rafe." Jim and Blair said in unison.
"Busy day, Chief?" Jim teased smiling broadly.
"You couldn't imagine. I have a list a mile long to get done and I'm starving. Please tell me we're not going to Wonder Burger again?" Blair begged with his best puppy dog eyes.
"Well that was the plan, but given your insane workload lately. I thought I'd let you pick," Jim conceded.
Blair rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Cool man! There's a vegetarian Thai place not too far from the station I've been wanting to try. Jenny recommended that we try it because they have a lot of mild dishes as well as super spicy. Sound okay?"
"Sure. Let's eat!" Jim capitulated.
After lunch, they climbed into the truck and headed for the station. Jim pulled into the garage after a short, but informative (as Blair discussed his morning class), drive back to the station.
"That sounded like an interesting lecture. What class is that for, Chief?"
"Oh it's my 791 Anthro class, Dissention in the Tribal Structure. Yeah, it was interesting, especially considering that Professor Kendrick can drone on in monotone for about a million years," Blair agreed.
"Kendrick teaches that class?" Jim grated, trying to reign in his anger.
"Yeah, look he's my professor. I don't go to class, I don't pass. Rafe was with me the entire time. Besides, he's under full surveillance," Blair promised, getting out of the truck.
Blair grabbed his backpack and they headed up to Major Crimes. Walking in the door, he checked his watch and turned to Jim. "Hey man, you want some coffee. I'm heading to the break room to grab some juice," Blair inquired, bouncing on his toes.
"Sounds great, Chief," Jim responded with a smile. "Maybe it'll help you burn off some of that extra energy you seem to have."
"You're just jealous cause you're too old to bounce on your toes. You might hurt yourself," Blair jested playfully as he ducked away from Jim's friendly smack to the back of his head.
"Keep it up, Chief, and you'll never get any tests out of me," Jim warned amusingly.
Blair laughed as he sprinted out the door.
Ten minutes later, he returned with the drinks. "What took you so long, Chief? Did you get lost?" Jim teased.
"I ran into Monique," Blair admitted with a smile, wiggling his eyebrows.
"I should have known," Jim answered as he witnessed Blair checking his watch again. "You got somewhere to be, Chief?"
"Not until four," Blair answered as he pulled a file off the pile and started to write up the report.
At 1:30, Blair got up from the desk and made his way to Simon's office. He knocked and entered when Simon waved him in. Drawing Jim's back up revolver from the back of his waistband, he took aim at Simon Banks and fired without blinking.
Jim looked up at his partner's sudden disappearance. As he saw him move to the door of Simon's office, he got up to follow him. Seeing the gun raised, Jim crashed through the door, hitting his partner in a flying tackle, as Blair fired.
Simon, startled by the shot, bellowed, "What in the hell is going on here, Jim? Did Sandburg just take a shot at me?"
"A little help here, sir?" Jim demanded as he struggled with Blair for the weapon. Blair raised the weapon to his head and began to pull the trigger, but Jim knocked the gun from his hands.
Simon grabbed the gun. "Hey Jim, isn't this your back up piece?" He asked as the door flew open and most of Major Crimes crashed through the door, guns drawn.
"Yeah, what in the hell is going on here?" Jim groaned as he tried to keep his partner at bay. "Blair, can you hear me?" he asked as Blair's unfocused eyes just stared ahead, then rolled upward and he collapsed grabbing his head, screaming in pain as tears rolled down his pale face. Mercifully, he lost consciousness when the pain escalated moments later.
"Oh shit!" Simon and Jim exclaimed together as they braced the young man, lowering him to the floor.
"Where's the shooter?" Brown demanded as he checked the office.
"It was Blair," Simon replied. Then upon Brown's disbelieving reaction, "I know! Find out what the hell is going on here! NOW! Brown, call the unit running surveillance on Kendrick. See if they can find any reason at all to pull his ass in here!" Simon bellowed his orders as everyone stood askance, disbelieving of the situation.
"Jim?" Simon asked shaking the man gently. "Don't you zone on me when Sandburg's unconscious, damnit!"
Jim shook his head and focused on his Captain, then his gaze traveled to his fallen partner. Jim placed his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Blair? Come on, Chief. Wake up!" He gently slapped the younger man's face to bring him around.
Blair moaned and stirred. "Wha's goin' on?" he slurred as he regained consciousness.
"Well," Jim started, unsure of what direction to go.
"Why are you all lookin' at me like that?" Blair demanded as he tried to drag himself off the floor.
"Well, Chief. You just walked into Simon's office with my back up piece and tried to blow him away," Jim informed his pale partner.
"How can this keep happening, damnit? I've been under police protection the entire damn time. How can they get to me. I don't understand," Blair questioned dazedly.
"It's okay, Chief. What's the last thing you remember?" Jim asked, concerned for his partner and angry at his inability to help him.
"I remember getting our drinks and talking to Monique, starting the write up on the Martinez report and then everything's a blank after that until I woke up here on the floor," Blair explained as he grabbed Jim's arm for support and pulled himself off the floor.
Jim sighed as he helped Sandburg up off the floor. "Look, Blair. You blacked out with this last attack. We're going to the hospital to get you checked out," Jim insisted with authority.
"No hospitals. Come on, Jim. I'll be fine once we find the bastards messing with my head. What if I hurt someone while I'm there? I'm safest right here, please," he begged quietly.
"Humor me, Blair," Simon ordered. "You're going and I want a complete workup done! Jim, you go with him and keep an eye on him."
"I hate hospitals!" Blair spat as he sat on the treatment table in Trauma 4.
"Look on the bright side, Sandburg. Not only did they let me stay with you this time, but in all the times you've been in here, we've never seen Trauma 4. You got a new room!" Jim offered, trying to get Blair's mind off this mess.
"You are soooo not funny," Blair grouched.
"Doctor's coming," Jim announced about 30 seconds before the door opened.
"What's the verdict, Doc?" Jim asked worriedly.
"Mr. Sandburg is fine. All tests came back negative, although he was a bit dehydrated. Blood work's clean, but in all honesty from what Dr. Michaelson told me at the consult, the drugs would probably have been long gone by now. You can take him home, but make sure he gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'll send the nurse in with the paperwork," the doctor finished as he turned to leave.
"Thanks, Doc," the guys offered simultaneously.
"Rafe, did anything unusual happen when you were with Sandburg?" Jim questioned.
"NO! He saw only one person since his office hours were later in the day and received one phone call from one of his professors. Since we were headed to Kendrick's class and surveillance gave the all clear, I assumed it wasn't him. Someone else must be making the calls," Rafe answered with all the details he could remember.
"I ordered Campus Security to monitor all his calls with backup tape. Find out who's patrolling that area and have the tape brought in immediately. How're you feeling, Blair?" Simon asked, concerned at his unusual stillness.
"Considering someone's turned me into a murderer, I guess I've been better," Blair snapped, immediately regretting it. "Sorry, Simon. I just need to find out what the hell is going on."
"I know, son. We'll get it figured out," Simon assured him, placing a supportive hand on the kid's shoulder.
Jim sighed. "On a positive note, if that call you got were the orders to take Simon out, then at least we should have the trigger so we can get you deprogrammed by Dr. Michaelson."
"We got the trigger!" Brown yelled as he raced into his office.
"Excellent work, gentlemen," Simon praised.
Brown's face fell. "It was Brackett," he announced to the stunned room.
"Shit!" They all chimed in unison.
"I'm not sure what this means, but the trigger is "A Guide always protects his Sentinel," Brown blurted out excitedly.
"What are your instructions?" Blair droned unemotionally.
Simon glared at Brown. "Thank you, Brown. You couldn't wait to say it when Sandburg wasn't in the same room?" Simon chastised as he grabbed the phone transcript forcefully from his wayward detective.
"Sorry," Brown whispered with a grimace.
"Rhonda, call Dr. Michaelson at this number and get her over here to deprogram my partner, please," Jim asked the assistant as patiently as possible.
"No problem, Detective. I called her when we got the transcripts. She should be here in about 10 minutes," Rhonda informed them.
"That's why we pay you the big bucks, Rhonda. Thank you," Simon said with a smile.
Three days later...
"I still can't believe that somebody was able to program me like that. What if it happens again?" Blair asked with a shiver.
"It shouldn't, Chief. Professor Kendrick confessed when we put the pressure on for assault and two counts of attempted murder of a police officer. He folded like a house of cards. He rolled over on Brackett for a lesser sentence. You can imagine the good professor's surprise when he learned that Brackett was no longer CIA affiliated and his actions were not protected by the CIA," Jim relayed to the recovering anthropologist.
"What about Brackett?" Blair asked, eyes downcast, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.
"Sorry, Chief," Jim apologized knowing that the admission would be difficult for Blair to accept. "He got away."
Blair looked began to comb his fingers through his hair to calm himself with the news he had expected anyway. Brackett was still out there. That son of a bitch.
"Blair," Jim spoke softly, placing his hand on Blair's shoulder. "You know that the likelihood of this happening again is very small, right?" At Blair's doubting shrug, Jim continued, smiling gently, "Ari erased all the programming and assured me that you should be a much more difficult subject next time around."
"How did she do that? Never mind. I'm sure I don't want to know. Wait a minute. Did you just call her Ari?" Blair rambled.
"Yeah, she's really nice once you get to know her," Jim informed his younger partner.
"Jim! I do know her! I dated her, remember! You aren't seeing her, are you?" Blair questioned mercilessly.
Jim shrugged and slowly sipped on his beer. "Well, that all depends, Chief. We're supposed to go out this weekend, but I told her I wanted to talk to you about it first. You know, make sure you're okay with it."
"I knew it! Are you crazy? She will chew you up and eat you for breakfast!" Blair exclaimed.
"Sounds like fun," Jim mused with a sly grin.
"Remember when I told you your sense of humor sucked?" Blair asked with a slight twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah," Jim responded.
"It still does," Blair teased as he dodged Ellison's swing and headed to the kitchen for another beer.
The End