Jim opened the door to the loft juggling several take out bags. He'd kicked Blair out of the place twice now for Margaret. They'd enjoyed a walk through the park and back, but he wanted to take things slowly so they parted late that afternoon. He owed Blair, both for introducing them and giving them some space.

Sitting the bags on the table Jim dialed Blair's cell number to let him know it was safe to come home. He was heading upstairs when he sensed the empty feeling in Blair's room. The furniture and Blair's laptop remained and there were six boxes stacked up, but that was it. Sitting on the bed, Jim closed the cell phone and stared at the empty space. He'd given up; the golden exposure was too much for him, and Blair was calling it quits. He had actually stuck with it longer than Jim expected. Police life was hard and dangerous; not the place for a promising grad student to risk his life. Wrapped up in his own misery, he couldn't imagine why he was hearing a panther growl and didn't hear the loft door open.

"Jim, I'm glad you're back. I wanted to talk to you before I left."

Jim started at the hand on his arm.

"Did you zone?"

"What's going on here? Were you going to leave without telling me?"

"Of course not, but I found a place near the university. And I knew you wanted me out. I was hoping to tell you tonight and head out."

"But what about the station?"

Wincing at the words, Blair dug his observer ID out of his backpack.

"Will you give this to Simon? I'm sure he doesn't want to see me, but if I need to sign anything let me know, and I'll stop by. I'm sorry about the station garage; I'll pay for any damages." Blair wondered where that money would come from even as he spoke. He doubted the department would be willing to wait for a payment schedule.

Blair's words finally penetrated Jim's resigned fog, and he took a good look at the younger man. He'd lost weight from his stay in the hospital and exuded quiet desperation. Thinking back, Jim realized he'd not really talked to Blair since his release from the hospital.

"Why do you think I want you gone?" Jim homed in on the important part of Blair's reasoning.

"Well, let's see." The sarcasm was obvious. "I didn't anticipate the golden getting into your eyes and almost got you killed. I shot up the parking garage and almost got you killed again, along with several other people. Are you seeing the pattern here? I'm a danger to you and everyone else in the department. You've got control of your senses; you don't need my help, such as it is, anymore. Of course you'd want me out of here."

"And Simon tolerates me for your sake, but even if he were willing to overlook the incident, which I doubt, the powers that be won't be so understanding. I found a junior who lost his roommate and am moving in with him. I spent a couple hours packing up my room before I had to report for my first shift at the store where I got a job."

Absorbing the rant, Jim looked around the room again. It didn't sound like Blair had actually moved anything yet, which meant his entire life was sitting in six boxes.

"I don't blame you and neither does Simon. We're both relieved you're alive, and there wasn't any permanent damage. And what job are you talking about?"

"Money, man. It doesn't grow on trees; therefore, I need a job."

"Why do you need money?" As he realized what he'd said Jim continued. "I mean more than normal?"

"Are you really that dense?" Blair sighed. "I owe the hospital a not so small fortune; there's the damage in the garage, food, rent, clothes." New shoes he mentally added. "You know, normal stuff."

"Do you want to leave?"

"I don't have a choice, man."

"That's not what I asked you. Do you want to quit as my guide and move on to a safer study? Because I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"I'm not a very good guide; I keep almost killing you. You deserve better."

"Listen to me, nothing that happened was your fault. Anyone could have eaten that pizza, and you told me to be careful with the golden packet. Do you want to leave?"

"But-"

"Do you want to leave? I'm going to keep asking until you answer."

"No." Blair mumbled.

"Sentinel, remember Chief. I heard that. If you don't want to leave then you're not leaving. Call your now former, future roommate and let him know. Do we need to retrieve anything?"

"No, I haven't taken anything over yet." Blair's answer didn't carry the happiness Jim had hoped.

Nodding at the confirmation of his previous assumptions, Jim studied the grad student again. Spying the cheap shoes he was wearing Jim mentally smacked himself in the head. He had fully intended to replace the pair Sneaks had claimed as payment, but circumstances had intervened. He remembered Blair's quiet ebullience when he'd purchased those shoes, and his off hand remark that it was the first pair of new shoes he'd had in a long time.

Jim realized he'd failed his friend. Blair was completely unaware of the affection and respect he'd earned from Jim, Simon and the rest of Major Crimes; it was time that changed.

"It's late, call your friend and let's eat, Chief. You know the doctor told you get plenty of rest; you're still recovering from golden. We'll talk again tomorrow, but this is your home for as long as you want it."

Nodding tiredly, Blair opened the nearest box.

"No Chief, that can wait till tomorrow. Can you get to what you need tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's food on the table, grab some plates, and I'll set it out."

Jim studied his partner while they ate. The kid was subdued and still looked defeated. He'd have to do something about that. Urging the half asleep man to bed he cleaned up the leftovers and picked up his keys; the mall was still open. He hated that conglomeration of trendy shops and screaming toddlers, but it was late enough it might be quiet.

Returning an hour later he set down his first salvo in the 'Cheer Up Blair' campaign. The shoes were more expensive than he'd anticipated; he understood why their loss was so important.

Calling Simon, he started on the next step in his plan. He hoped Simon could find some way around the bureaucracy to get Blair's hospital bills paid.

Looking around suddenly, he shook his head. He could have sworn he heard a cat purring; there must be a stray downstairs somewhere.

"Yeah, Simon, I need some help."

Unobserved by the Sentinel, a panther and wolf happily curled up in front of the fireplace. The bond between the two was still fragile and embryonic, but it would grow over time.