So, someone asked me why the delay between putting up chapters. There's kind of 2 reasons. One is that I like posting on a regular schedule – it keeps me thinking about writing in general and it also keeps me from spamming the people who follow me and might not care about my current project. The other reason, specific to this series, is that by the end of the year, there will be 70 chapters/oneshots that will go up. If you divide the year out evenly, that means my wildly-specific timeframe to keep the updates coming at regular intervals.
I know it's slightly annoying. Sorry. But not really.
Enjoy!
Blair left not long after dinner, taking one of the spare cars kept in a garage on-site rather than driving the big van for just himself and Jessie. They made easy conversation most of the way down the mountains until Blair's phone rang.
"Will you answer it?" he asked, hauling it from a pocket and handing it over to her. "I hate talking while driving."
Smiling at the name displayed by the phone, Jessie expertly unlocked it and answered the call as primly as she could. "Good evening! You've reached Doctor Blair Sandburg's mobile phone. He is busy at the moment, but I would be happy to take your call."
Blair snorted trying to keep a giggle to himself.
"Is this Jessie Bannon?" grumbled a voice she could identify with the name from the phone.
"Yes, sir," she responded pertly.
"Well, knock it off! This is Simon Banks, as you probably know, and I need you to give Sandburg a message."
"Certainly, sir," Jessie chuckled.
"I really hate kids sometimes," Simon grumbled just loud enough to be heard.
"I can't imagine why, sir."
"You tell Sandburg that I want to see him in my office tomorrow morning. I know he's got that class, so I want him here at seven-AM, bright and early. And since you're in such a fine mood, why don't you come with him?"
"I'll see that he gets the message sir," Jessie answered brightly. Simon cut the call and she laughed freely.
"He seems to be in a fine mood," Blair commented.
"Yeah, well, he wants to see both of us tomorrow morning before your class," Jessie said. "Any idea why?"
"No clue," Blair shook his head. Then he paused. "You know, we might need to come up with some kind of story to explain you to the rest of the department. I can get you a visitor's pass, but I need a good reason for it."
"Tell them the truth," Jessie shrugged. "Tell them I'm a friend and also a prospective student for Rainier and my dad is friends with Captain Banks. Ought to be enough, don't you think?"
Blair grinned. "Way better than Jim's first story about me!"
"How so?" Jessie asked.
Blair settled into telling the stories of his early friendship with his stern Sentinel, filling up the car all the way back to the loft.
-==OOO==-
It was well after midnight when Jim heard the movements from the room a few walls away. With the silence of a Special Ops soldier, or maybe a large jungle cat, he rose from his bed and got dressed. Padding in thick slippers, he followed the footsteps down the hall to the small stairwell in the far corner. Somehow, Jim wasn't surprised his quarry headed up instead of down, opening the small door to the roof and vanishing into the star-spangled darkness.
Jim gave him exactly three minutes before he ascended the steps himself. On the roof, he opened his sight to take in Jonny staring up at the sky with a forlorn expression at the far end of the building.
"Out for a walk?" he asked.
"Gah!" Jonny jumped and almost overbalanced in surprise. "Jim! Do you practice for that sort of thing?"
"Sometimes," Jim smirked. He easily crossed the roof to join him. "We've got to stop meeting like this, kid."
Jonny smiled ruefully. "Tell me about it." After a moment, he shifted his feet. "So, you here to tell me to get to bed? Or to give me some kind of weird nighttime sage advice?"
"First of all," Jim crossed his arms, "I'm not your dad, thankfully. So I don't care what time you go to bed. If you miss breakfast, that's your problem."
Jonny nodded.
"Secondly," Jim continued, "I only have one piece of sage advice and it isn't even mine. But I bet you want to hear it right about now. Unless there's some reason other than you worrying about your senses that you came all the way up here instead of looking out your own window."
"I don't want to bother Hadji," Jonny answered.
Protecting the Guide even from yourself, Jim thought a little amusedly. You really are a Sentinel, kid.
"Then here's my one bit of wisdom. It comes from Incacha, the shaman I knew from Peru."
"I remember you and Blair talking about him," Jonny nodded.
"Yeah, well, he told me something more than once. Something that stuck with me. He said that a Sentinel will always be a Sentinel if he chooses to be. I didn't believe him at the time, but later it all made sense to me."
Jim moved forward and rested both hands on Jonny's shoulders.
"I don't know what's going on inside that head of yours, but every time I lost my senses, it was because on some level I didn't want them anymore. You figure out why you don't want to be a Sentinel and get over it, you'll get your senses back."
"But I do want to be a Sentinel!" Jonny protested.
Jim stepped back and turned to leave. "Then be one, 'cause it's all on you," he said over his shoulder.
-==OOO==-
Morning came a little too bright and early for Jessie's taste, made at least somewhat better because, according to her body-clock from four hours to the east, it was actually late morning. So a cup of strong coffee got her going; and by the time she had ridden in Blair's shaky little car to the police station, curiosity had started to fuel her.
Blair gave their prearranged story to the guy at the front desk, and between that and Simon calling down to see what in the world was taking so long, they got her the visitor's pass – and while he was at it, Blair arranged for a pass for Jonny and Hadji as well just in case. Minutes later, they were crowded into the elevator with several other members of the force on their way to start their day of protecting and serving.
And if Jessie saw a few dirty looks given to Blair, she kept it to herself.
Up on the right floor, Blair breezed down the hallway and into Major Crimes. Rhonda grinned at him, but she was on her way out the other door with her arms full of files.
"Blair!" Joel greeted him the minute he entered. "Long time no see!"
"Hey Hairboy!" Henri Brown cheered from his desk. Then he did a double-take at Jessie. "That ain't your usual partner, Sandburg."
Blair rolled his eyes him. "Jessie Bannon, meet Captain Joel Taggart and Detectives Henri Brown and Brian Rafe." Leveling a look at the guys, he said, "Jessie's dad is a friend of ours, and she's also applying to Rainier, so I'm showing her around."
Blair knew he had a reputation with women in the department, and for one split-second he wondered if that was about to bite him for being with an underage girl, but all three men smiled at Jessie and welcomed her kindly. Blair was grateful – it was one thing to tease a guy for having a roving eye, and another to insinuate something genuinely terrible.
"Sandburg!" Simon called. "Didn't I say I wanted to see you? Or did you forget between downstairs and the bullpen? And bring Jessie with you."
"Oops, better go," Blair said.
"They seem like good people," Jessie observed as she followed Blair into the office.
"They are," he agreed. "You'd have liked Megan, too. She was here on loan from Sydney for a while but had to go back while I was in Borneo. I think you two would have gotten along really well."
"Not to interrupt your little tea party," Simon crossed his arms and looked at the pair, "but we do have something to discuss. Oh, and welcome back to Cascade, kiddo."
Jessie beamed. "Good morning, Captain Banks!"
"What's up, Simon?" Blair asked, taking a seat. Jessie waited until Simon waved her into a chair to sit down as well.
"First of all, either of you want to tell me why Ellison bolted out of here yesterday? All he gave me was some kind of story about SELF and now you're here."
Blair hesitated but Jessie didn't. "We called Jim and Blair for help. Jonny's having trouble and we didn't know what else to do."
Simon's aloofness thawed and he leaned forward. "Is he okay?"
"His senses are gone."
The captain ran a hand over his face. "Figures. Well, that tells me why Jim pulled his disappearing act. I take it they're up at the lodge?"
"Yup," Blair confirmed.
Simon sighed a little wistfully. He'd been back just once since that first trip, and the place was turning into an all-around beautiful getaway. If he could have come up with any excuse to head up there himself and get some fishing in…
"The second thing," Simon shook himself back to business, "is for you, Sandburg. I'm wondering if you would mind heading out with Joel today. He asked for you specifically."
"Joel? Why?"
"Remember that fire last week? The one that went down with you across the street?"
"No, I've completely forgotten yet more evidence that my life is the most stunning example of a cruel universe ever," Blair replied testily.
Simon gave him a glare but continued. "There was another fire like it last night. A little farther out of the downtown area, thankfully, but it was a department store this time that went up."
"Are they connected?" Jessie found herself asking.
"The arson squad doesn't think so, but I'm not so sure," Simon answered. "To be honest, they've kind of got their hands full. Fire season won't really let up for another month, and they're running ragged dealing with things in the suburbs and beyond. The fire investigators don't have a lot of manpower to focus on little, contained fires when they're risking a bigger one out in the boonies, not to mention every weekend barbeque gone wrong and student bonfires and everything else."
"Simon, why Joel?" Blair asked astutely.
"Call it a hunch," Simon answered, "but I want his bomb squad experience to take a look. The preliminaries make it seem like an electrical fire instead of another gas leak, but I just want to make sure before the department closes the file. I'd send Jim if I could, but I understand he needs to be where he is. So, will you go?"
"Simon," Blair hedged, "Joel's…started asking questions. About me. And Jim."
The captain raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Well, that's easy to manage," Jessie put in. "I'll come with you."
"I can't send a seventeen-year-old into an active investigation," Simon protested.
"Eighteen," Jessie corrected. "My birthday was in August."
"Happy birthday," the captain grumbled. "Same thing. I can't send an eighteen-year-old to a possible crime scene, either. Policy and safety issues aside, you could taint a possible prosecution."
"I wouldn't worry about that part," she shrugged. "I've already worked with the police all over the world. Besides, I'm supposed to be tailing after Blair, right? Plus, if I'm around, Captain Taggart won't feel comfortable asking Blair any awkward questions. And it could be interesting."
"Oh, I know I'm going to regret this," Simon sighed. "But if I recall correctly, you can even produce evidence of being employed by the State Department and it isn't even fishy now that you're of age, can't you?"
"Yep. I'm on the books as a full agent now, and Hadji is, too. Agent Fritz will vouch for me if it ever comes up. I also have a permit to carry and use a firearm in defense of myself, others, or national security." Jessie sat back with a smug smile.
"Oh god, she's worse than you," the captain groaned. "All right, just go. But Sandburg!" his voice rose to a warning roar.
"Yeah?"
"If anything, and I mean anything happens to her, I'm going to let her father take it out of your hide while I sell tickets and popcorn! Do you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, Simon," Blair grinned at his temporary partner. "Loud and clear."
-==OOO==-
Hadji stepped to Jim's side. He watched for a few moments before speaking. "How is he doing?"
"He's doing fine," Jim shrugged, "but beats me why it's helping."
Jim had spent the time over breakfast considering what he might be able to do that would have any kind of benefit for Jonny and his trouble with his senses. In the end, what he'd come up with was an old training exercise he'd learned from the Chopec during his time in Peru. Accordingly, he'd set up something of an obstacle course throughout the central grounds surrounding the lodge. He'd marked a path with strips of reflective tape that wound from building to building, up trees and into the underbrush at the treeline and even across the pool and over a basketball hoop. The point of the course wasn't just to get the kid moving – at multiple points, the pieces of tape were very small, and sometimes the physical challenge demanded swift reflexes or keen spacial awareness.
Jonny had run the course once already, but now Jim had decided on an additional challenge.
"Excuse me," he said politely to Hadji with a small smile. Then he raised the paintball-gun and began firing.
"Yikes!" Jonny shouted as he dodged the incoming barrage.
"You did not hit him," Hadji observed.
"No," Jim shook his head. "So far, he's seen every shot coming at him in time to avoid it. And I took some of those shots from under cover. He's definitely using his Sentinel senses to help him."
"But not consciously," Hadji realized. "You have triggered his inherent instincts, rather than attempting to have his waking self tap into his abilities."
"I guess," Jim shrugged. "It just seemed to work."
"So what will you do when he completes this course?" Hadji wanted to know.
"It depends on him," Jim said, watching as Jonny shimmied up the basketball pole to tag the top of the board before dropping back to the ground. "Depends on if he stays a Sentinel when he stops running."
"An apt metaphor," Hadji said.
"He told you about our little chat?"
"He did," Hadji nodded. "Jonny may try to keep his innermost thoughts from himself, but he very rarely keeps them from me for long, even if he does not realize what he is telling me."
Jim considered that for a moment. Was that what he did with Sandburg? Certainly his partner seemed to understand Jim's rationales and even his twisted logic long before it ever got pulled into the open with words. He wasn't the most communicative guy in the world, Jim knew that, but somehow it always seemed to work itself out. Well, except when it almost hadn't.
"He ever push you away?" Jim asked as casually as he could.
"No," Hadji shook his head. "He may try to protect me unreasonably sometimes, as is his nature, but I do not fault him for such. There is no more eloquent speech than a man's choices, my friend. And Jonny's choices are always made out of kindness and loyalty."
Hadji peered at Jim shrewdly. "As are yours, I perceive."
"You don't know that," Jim immediately argued.
"Oh, I admit, it is possible you have had less than superior motives in the past. But the man standing with me now is neither callous nor cruel. His actions may mystify those who do not know to look for his motives correctly, but I would like to consider myself more like your own Guide in this."
Jim blinked at him. Hadji knew Jim's track record with Sandburg, how he'd kicked him out, betrayed him, gotten him killed, doubted his honor, almost broken their partnership – all of it. How could this kid think so highly of him?
And then the answer hit him like lightning.
It was because Blair thought so highly of him.
Hadji was repeating his own observations, but those had been informed by the many long conversations Jim knew Blair and Hadji had had over the last few months. Hadji would have made his own decisions about Jim, but the context for everything he thought he knew about him was coming from Blair's perspective. It was Blair, the object of so much ill treatment, who had such faith in him.
"Tell me, Hadji," Jim managed, turning so he could watch Jonny rather than look at the young man beside him. "Is it a Guide thing or just my stupidly loyal partner that makes him so quick to forgive the really bad stuff?"
"I cannot speak for all Guides," Hadji replied calmly, "but I will say that your Guide is a man of great personal courage and, as you have said, rare loyalty. These are traits I believe you share. If you would give your life to save his, can you still be surprised he would do the same?"
"Stepping in front of a bullet isn't the same as forgiving someone for being a jerk," Jim had to force the words out.
"No, you are right. The forgiveness is a much greater test of one's character. Thankfully, you both carry it in spades."
Jim looked around at him in surprise so fast he almost set his head spinning. He couldn't even come up with a response to that in his astonishment. Sandburg was the forgiving one, not him.
Hadji chuckled. "Tell me, Detective. Do you harbor ill will in your heart that your loft is now shared with Blair? Do you still strain with anger for the times Blair has put himself in danger for the sake of yourself or another? Do you still carry your fury at your conflicts or his mistakes?"
Jim didn't know what to say to that. He knew his answer – but not how to explain it.
"My point exactly," Hadji smiled. "Your feelings confuse you, but they do not confuse Blair. He has finally learned to see through your eyes, hear through your feelings. As you have learned to do for him. The most difficult lesson of all is learning to forgive oneself. This you have both failed to do. But forgiving one another and seeing the best of each other? This you have mastered."
He paused before he pointed. "But you have perhaps left Jonny too long to his own devices."
Jim shook himself from staring at Hadji to returning to what he was actually supposed to be doing. Jonny, he realized, had made it back to the pool. But rather than swimming across it and continuing on, he was idly floating on his back, looking at the clouds closing in on the sky above. Jim opened his vision to scan Jonny's face, but there was no slackness there – he wasn't zoning. Just lazy.
Jim grinned at Hadji as he shouldered the paintball rifle. "You won't mind if your brother's a little more colorful, will you?"
"No," Hadji grinned in return. "A bit of color will suit him well."
Jim opened fire.
-==OOO==-
"Hey Joel!" Blair greeted his friend cheerfully. "Thanks for giving Jess and I a ride."
"It's no problem," Joel said, frowning. "I'm not so sure about her coming with us to the scene of the fire, though."
"Don't worry about me," Jessie shrugged with a small smile. "I know how to stay out of your way. I'll just be taking some notes on things." She turned to Blair with a brightness in her expression that made Blair want to giggle at her. "I so appreciate you letting me sit in on your class. It was absolutely fascinating. I've always been more into the hard sciences myself, but my mom's an archeologist, so..."
Blair forced himself to listen to Jessie's skillful prattle in case she let up at some point and he needed to respond. In the driver's seat, Joel's face was locked in a mask of politeness, but Blair could almost feel the man's resignation. Clearly with the bubbly Jessie so eager to stay at Blair's elbow, he wasn't going to make any traction on the conversation he was trying to have.
Mid-sentence, Jessie caught Blair's eye and winked before she dove back in. At least, he considered, she was good to talk to. By the time they'd pulled up at the site of the burned department store, Jessie had downshifted out of filler talk and they were legitimately discussing one of the ruined temples from Thailand that both had visited; Blair's expedition had been there after Jessie and her mom, and they'd drawn totally opposite conclusions about what they'd seen. They debated with great gusto until Joel actually cleared his throat.
"So, this is where the fire was," he said, turning off the car. "Neither of you need to come in with me if you don't want to. It's pretty dirty and a little unstable in there."
"No way, man," Blair shook his head. "Simon was clear he wanted you to have another pair of eyes. And with Jessie's experience, she's as good as anybody for a third observer."
Joel gave up and climbed out of the car. But by the time they'd joined him, he had pushed his small irritation to the side, his mind focused on the real tasks at hand: checking the scene and watching out for the pair under his protection.
"Oh!" Jessie stopped in surprise. The two men turned to her and she gestured. "That's...pretty creepy, actually."
Blair turned and looked at what had startled her. "Um, yeah, actually, it is," he agreed.
The department store was one of those huge box stores that sold everything from clothing to car parts to music and office supplies. The big windows in the front were smudged with soot and milky from the foam. Peeking between the streaks of blackened residue was a charred figure – a skeletal store mannequin that seemed to leer at them.
Joel patted Jessie on the shoulder. "The fire was worst near the front of the store where all the biggest lights and the electronics for sale were turned on 24-hours a day. There was a sprinkler system installed, so that helped to contain a lot of the blaze. My friends in the arson squad think there was a short in the electrical systems when one of the shelf-lights overheated and that's what set it off. A lot of the wiring was bundled together, and there were a lot of old packing peanuts propping up the displays and such back there, too."
"So you're thinking it's just another freak fire, too?" Blair asked curiously.
"I'm not saying anything," Joel smiled a little. "I haven't seen it yet."
They ducked around the yellow warning tape and stepped through the gaping hole where the door to the store should have been.
"Most of the building looks like it's in pretty good shape," Blair commented. "The fire didn't even get to the back areas. A lot of the merchandise will be salvageable."
"Which is why nobody's thinking this was for insurance," Joel nodded. "If this was somebody trying to pull a scam, they wouldn't just burn the front displays and the registers – they'd start at the back with the stock room."
Jessie had stopped just inside and was thinking. Aloud, she said, "If it was just a freak accident, that's one thing. But what if it was deliberate? Statistically, arson is more likely."
"Two freak fires in two weeks is a stretch," Blair pointed out. "Do we know if anybody's looking at our fire for arson?"
"No," Joel shook his head. "That was just a coffee shop and the owner has a solid alibi. The fire started behind the counter near the big coffee machines they use, so the investigators figure it was just a machine that didn't get shut off, the propane tank that fed it ruptured, and it went up."
"I don't buy it," Jessie shook her head. "First of all, have either of you ever actually worked in a shop like that?" They shook their heads. "Those machines do get hot, but they're specially built to channel the heat away from the circuits and the gas lines. They're actually designed to be left on all the time, not turned off nightly. It saves power to shut them down, but you don't have to."
"How do you know this?" Blair asked.
Jessie grinned. "We have two at the house." At their surprise, "Hey, you try dealing with my dad and Doctor Quest without at least a gallon of coffee every morning. There's the main pot in the kitchen and another one down in Doctor Quest's lab." She tipped her head for a moment.
"What?" Joel moved closer to her.
"Well..." she said slowly. "Once Jonny knocked a baseball through the kitchen window into the big coffee-maker. He hit it just right and it sparked all over the place. But the thing is, the propane tank was underneath the counter. As soon as the machine got hit, it pulled on the lines and the pressure gauge locked shut. It even bent out of shape before it would let any propane out, so we had to get a new tank."
"Joel," Blair said, "those propane-fueled coffee-makers are pretty new. Would the arson squad know what to look for to tell the difference between the tank just blowing up and somebody tampering with it?"
"You wouldn't have to tamper with the tank," Jessie shook her head. "It would be a lot easier to break the machine directly so the propane got leaked at that end. If the propane blew, the tank would remain largely intact since they're built for that. But the machines aren't."
"No evidence," Joel realized. "The tank would look fine. And there wouldn't be enough left of the machine to piece it back together. Not without a whole lot of time."
"And Captain Banks already told us the whole squad of fire investigators have their hands full. Why waste time on an easy case like this when they have more that mean a lot more damage and injuries?" Jessie pointed out.
"Are we really saying we've got a firebug on our hands?" Joel wanted to know.
"That depends," Blair said, "on what we find here."
"This is a totally different situation," Jessie said. "You said the fire started over there?" she pointed towards a blackened area beneath the ceiling where the flames had eaten almost all the way to the sky.
"That's what the preliminaries say," Joel nodded. Then he frowned. "But something doesn't look right."
"What do you mean?" Blair asked.
"Well, the ignition point of the fire is definitely around here," Joel moved to the ruined shelves that had probably once held TVs and such. "And there's evidence of those packing foam things which are very flammable," he kicked at some particularly dense dark ash.
"But?" Blair prompted him.
"But I don't see anything that could really start the fire." He put on a pair of gloves and began gingerly pushing through the debris. Blair and Jessie watched for several minutes. Suddenly Joel sat back with a sharp breath.
"Blair, Jessie, what do either of you know about these kinds of TVs?" he asked. "About how they actually work?"
"Not a lot," Blair shrugged.
Jessie grinned. "I know some."
"Get over here and tell me if anything looks out of place to you."
Jessie carefully moved through the scene until she was at Joel's side. Squatting down, she found that he had dug through the most decimated of the shelves to a smashed TV at the bottom, its inner parts charred and falling apart. There were lots of other bits and pieces of whatever else had been on the shelf all jumbled up in the pile.
"It's like a jigsaw puzzle," she said.
"Right," Joel nodded. "But something tells me we've got one more piece than we need here." He handed her a pair of gloves.
Jessie began mentally cataloging the remains of the different mechanical parts, some of which were almost burned beyond recognition. But she knew well enough what to look for and it wasn't as though she were a stranger to the debris left over from explosions, either. For about 45 minutes, with Joel's permission, she painstakingly separated the parts into small piles so she could track each TV and what it was missing. There had also been a radio and other small electronics on the same stand of shelves, so she wound up with a fairly impressive set of piles.
In the end, there were a few horribly disfigured bits she just couldn't allocate.
"Here," she pointed. "As near as I can tell, these don't go in any of these other items. You'd want to have an expert check but..."
"But that looks like an ignition switch to me," Joel nodded. "Crude, but functional."
"So it really was arson," Blair said, standing from where he'd taken a seat on a non-burned chair out of the way.
"Not just arson," Joel shook his head. "An ignition switch means a bomber."
"I'll call the captain," Blair offered. He extended an arm to help Jessie and Joel climb out of the neat piles she had made. Jessie was just getting her feet under her and looking up when all her instincts kicked in at once.
"Get down!" she cried, shoving Blair who was nearer to her to the ground behind one of the burned-out cash registers.
Moments later, there was a blast of heat and fire.
-==OOO==-
Jim's phone rang just as they were heading inside to go to lunch, Jonny having finally gotten the last bit of green paint out of his fair hair. Noting that it was Simon, Jim answered at once.
"Ellison."
"Jim. I know you're in the middle of something, but you need to get back to Cascade."
"What happened?" Jim's stomach went cold.
"Somebody just tried to blow up Taggert, Sandburg, and Jessie Bannon."
