(part 7)
The sun was painting the clouds salmon-pink when Simon Banks knocked on the door of #307, 852 Prospect Avenue. Half of him wondered what he was doing here, and the other half wondered why he hadn't dropped in to check on Jim earlier. There was only so much a phone call could tell you. He wanted to see for himself.
He could hear something muffled behind the door, and then the sound of the chain being taken off the door. The door opened.
It was Jim. "What an unexpected surprise, Simon." He was looking a lot better than when Simon had last seen him. Instead of pale and washed out, he looked his normal self. "Come in," Jim gestured him in with a smile. No, not quite normal. He seemed more relaxed -- or something.
"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing," Simon said, still looking at Jim. Certainly the tension that had wired Jim when Alex Barnes was in town had gone. And maybe something more than that. "You still right to come in tomorrow?" Simon was almost sorry to have to drag Jim back into the stresses of work, but he needed his best detective, even if only at his desk.
"Since I stopped sleeping all day, yeah, I'm right," Jim said.
"Sleeping all day?" Simon said, stepping further into the loft. Blair was in the kitchen, chopping onions. The energetic way he was hefting the knife told Simon that Blair was improved also. Though Sandburg was tricky that way, pushing himself until he dropped.
"Tuesday I slept all day, yesterday I slept half the day, today I didn't sleep at all," Jim said. "Progress."
Simon sat down on the couch. "You're still on desk duty for at least a week. Check-up on Thursday, I believe it is. Then we'll see."
Jim made a face. "Paperwork."
Simon smiled smugly. "And there's more where that came from, if you should happen to run out."
"Coffee, Simon?" Jim asked, and then stopped. "Oh, yeah, I forgot, we're out of coffee."
Blair choked back a laugh. "And you know whose fault that is!"
"I'm afraid we've only got tea," Jim said, ignoring Blair's remark.
"Or you could have some freshly squeezed orange juice!" Blair teased.
"You volunteering, Sandburg?" Jim teased back.
"I am cooking dinner," Sandburg said with affronted dignity. He waved the knife in Simon's direction. "Want to join us, Simon?"
It was good to see the two of them getting on so well, comfortable enough to tease. He couldn't believe it when Megan had told him that Jim had thrown Blair out. And when they'd all been in Mexico, there had been more pressing things -- like Alex and two canisters of nerve gas -- to think about. And then Jim's mysterious collapse... "I don't want to impose," Simon said politely, though the thought of food he hadn't cooked or reheated himself, not to mention pleasant (if not entirely conventional) company, was very tempting.
"No imposition," Jim said. "Besides, a well-fed Captain is a reasonable and generous Captain..." he added with a twinkle in his eye.
Simon raised an eyebrow and tilted his head at Jim. "What favour that I don't like, are you going to ask me?" he said suspiciously.
"Something that's in the best interests of the department," Sandburg piped up from the kitchen.
"So you're in on this too, Sandburg."
"Well, half of it was his idea," Jim said.
"Only half?" Simon raised one eyebrow skeptically.
"I think you'll actually like his idea, Simon. Once he got me to agree to it..."
"So, what is this mysterious idea?"
"Let's feed you first," Jim demurred.
"Tell me now, or you'll give me indigestion, worrying about it," Simon insisted.
"Blair can explain it better than I can..." Jim said. "It concerns him, anyway."
"Not you?" Simon asked. Usually the things Jim and Blair came up with had to do with Jim's Sentinel abilities. What was this about Blair?
"Me too," Jim said.
Blair came out of the kitchen bearing a plate of fruit loaf, half the slices spread with butter, and the other half with jelly. He put the plate on the dining table, and called out, "Jim, help set the table, will you?"
Five minutes later, Simon found himself sitting at the table eating fruit loaf, with Jim sitting opposite him. Sandburg plumped down next to Jim, saying, "The casserole should be done in fifteen, along with the rice."
"So, are you going to tell me now?" Simon asked.
"Two things," Jim said, counting on his fingers. "First, Sandburg's not going to be able to remain an observer for much longer."
"Why not?" Simon said, concerned. It had been a long time since he'd realized that Jim needed Sandburg with him -- not all the time, but he certainly functioned better when Sandburg was there, and if any weird Sentinel stuff happened, that was totally Sandburg's department. It was a strain, sometimes, being the only one in the PD who knew about the secret strengths and vulnerabilities of his best detective, but he respected Jim's wishes that it remained secret. If it became common knowledge, then the edge would be gone. Though now, technically, he wasn't the only one anymore. Megan Conner had found out that Jim was a Sentinel when they were in Mexico... and had decided to join the club of silence. "I know you had trouble when Finkleman took over, but --"
"It isn't the department," Blair said. "Not exactly. It's just that you can't give an observer's pass to someone for researching their dissertation -- when they've finished their dissertation."
"You've finished your dissertation?" Simon exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It isn't finished yet," Blair said, glancing at Jim. "But it will be, in a couple of months."
"If Sandburg's going to continue working with me, he's going to need some kind of official position, a consultant of some sort," Jim said. "Heck, we call him a consultant to the department all the time, you just need to make it official."
"I can't just invent positions out of thin air, Jim," Simon said. "They need justification, budget allocation..."
"Go to Chief Warren and tell him the truth, if necessary," Jim said.
"Jim!" Blair and Simon both exclaimed, staring at the detective as if he'd grown another head.
"You're that serious about this?" Simon said.
"Simon, you've stuck your neck out for me on this, ever since this Sentinel thing started, keeping it from everyone, including your superiors," Jim said. "Maybe it's time you stopped."
"Jim, you can't be serious!" Blair exclaimed.
"If the media got hold of this Sentinel stuff, if the Chief found out you'd been lying to him," Jim said to Simon, ignoring Blair's outburst, how much trouble would you be in?"
"It's not gonna happen, Jim." Blair glared at Jim.
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," Jim said. He went still, that stillness that Simon associated with Jim using his senses. "I think the rice is boiling over, Chief," he said.
Blair leaped out of his chair and went into the kitchen. He said something which Simon didn't hear, but Jim obviously did, because he answered, "You're welcome, and the answer is 'both'."
Simon pondered Jim's earlier question. It had been a question he'd tried to avoid thinking about ever since Jim had sprung this Sentinel stuff on him. At first he hadn't really believed the Sentinel thing was real, hadn't wanted to think about it. Then he'd adopted the ostrich policy: shut your eyes to the weirdness, let them do their thing unhindered, and watch the results roll in. It had certainly worked -- Ellison and Sandburg were his best team, and it wasn't just the edge that Jim had with his Sentinel abilities, not really. He'd meant what he'd said to Sandburg during the "Sweet Roy" case about his contribution to the department.
As for the weirdness, it had only gotten weirder as time went on. He could hardly imagine himself telling the Chief of Police that one of his detectives was psychic -- but how else would you describe what had gone on between Jim and Alex? Producing an identikit picture of Alex's associate because he'd seen him in a vision? And then finding it was completely accurate... Charlie Spring had nothing on Jim. Though Simon hoped, somehow, that this was just a one-off performance, due to the fact that Alex had been another Sentinel. Too much weirdness.
How much trouble would he be in if Chief Warren found out that he'd been... misleading him? Well, it wasn't as if he was supposed to come to him with all the petty details of his department... He really couldn't have told him, not at the start. But in the years since then, all the reports that they'd... fudged, it wouldn't look good. They'd had a choice, really, with the Juno case -- or had they? Simon had believed that there was no point in trying to make people believe that Jim really could see what he said he could see, but once they'd chosen to hide the truth, then they'd just kept on doing so. Because it was easier. Because in the beginning Jim's abilities weren't always reliable. Because short of a demonstration, it was unbelievable. But if Sandburg was about to finish his dissertation... The inklings of an idea tickled at the edges of Simon's mind.
"Simon?" Jim prompted. "Woolgathering on me, sir?"
Simon leaned back. "Just thinking. You're right, if it came to the Chief in the wrong way, things would look bad. The longer it's put off, the worse it looks." Simon smiled slyly. "But if we could put your partner's obfuscation skills to work, say that I didn't say anything because Sandburg was still working on his dissertation, not to mention the still valid concern that the Sentinel stuff not become common knowledge because of the danger it would put you in..."
"That didn't stop Brackett," Jim said.
"I wasn't thinking of him -- but he's an even better example, thanks for reminding me."
At that moment, Blair came out of the kitchen bearing two steaming plates. He plonked them in front of Jim and Simon, and then went back for his own. Simon eyed his plate with curiosity. Around the edges was a ring of rice, with an intriguing brown, green and yellow mixture in the middle. He could identify brown lumps of meat, pale slivers of onion, green beans and yellow corn, but what were the very dark brown lumps? And... "What is that smell?" Simon muttered.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Is it the nutmeg or the dates that have you worried, Simon?"
"Dates?" Simon's jaw dropped.
"Aw, c'mon guys, it's good!" Blair protested as he sat down. "Dates add a piquant sweetness -- do you know that commercial food manufacturers add sugar to practically everything? Not just things that are officially sweet, but to sauces and soups? The contrast of sweet and salt brings out the flavour. Dates are natural, and a lot more interesting!"
"And which tribe did you get this idea from?" Jim asked dryly, but he took a forkful of the stew anyway.
As Sandburg launched into yet another one of his tales, Simon took a tentative bite. It actually wasn't bad. I suppose if you can have Apricot Chicken, you can have Date Beef...
Soon enough, the conversation turned back to serious problem-solving.
"I'll talk to the Chief," Simon said. "That's all I can promise. I may have to drag you both in as further ammunition; my say-so may not be sufficient."
Jim shrugged. "I guess that's to be expected." He smiled wryly. "This whole Sentinel thing is rather hard to believe cold, even if Sandburg here is going to get a degree in it."
Blair grinned. "I don't believe in Sentinels, and I are one?"
Jim boffed Blair on the head. "I didn't say I didn't believe."
"You better not, big guy," Sandburg muttered.
"So," Simon said after another mouthful of the casserole -- it really rather grew on you -- "you said there were two things. What's the second one?"
Jim and Blair looked at each other. Jim gestured to Blair to speak.
"Training Megan to back up Jim when I'm not there," Blair said.
"Hold on, you've just spent all this time declaring how essential Sandburg is to the team, and now you want to train a replacement?"
"Sandburg is irreplaceable," Jim declared in the same tone of voice that he would have used to say that perps belonged behind bars. "We're talking about backup for Sandburg. I don't expect Conner to be able to do the same things he does, just to watch my back... in a more informed way."
"The essential thing," Blair said, "is to teach her how to bring Jim out of a zone, teach her to recognise the signs, that kind of thing."
Simon didn't ask Why Conner? It was obvious, that since she already knew their secret, that she would be the first person that they would think of. Though, considering how not well Jim and she had worked together when they first met... but that was a while ago now. "I gather that this would require more than just having Conner go along with you guys and watch you work?"
Blair shook his head. "That wouldn't really help in teaching her what to do. Jim hardly ever zones any more, and when we're in the field the important thing is getting the job done, not explaining how we get it done."
"So you want some time off."
"At least a few days," Blair said. "Go somewhere isolated, quiet, where we won't be disturbed..."
"Not too long, though, Sandburg, you've missed enough classes as it is," Jim said.
"I can take a long long weekend without a problem," Blair said. "Friday/Monday is fine for the next little while. My Anthro 101 class is on Wednesdays."
"Next weekend, perhaps?" Jim said. "If that's not enough time, well, we'll find out at the time."
Simon nodded. "Provided Conner's amenable to the idea, I agree." He paused. "And you two don't end up killing each other, that is," he added, looking at Jim. "You sure you want to do this?"
Jim nodded, then smiled wryly. "I didn't say I was sure it would work, Simon."
Blair cuffed Jim on the back of the head, and they all laughed.