Chapter 4

ooo

Blair knew his partner was getting headache, and a bad one. Throughout the course of the afternoon he'd watched the tension on Jim's face, and felt the general aura of weariness rolling off him. Yup, he definitely had one potentially grouchy Sentinel on his hands.

Not that Jim was actually taking it out on Blair. As a matter of fact, he was enduring quite stoically. That was what convinced Blair that they needed a break. When Jim was most in need of help, he clammed up. It was annoying and occasionally more than a little dysfunctional, but that was Jim, and Blair knew his own personality wasn't always the easiest to tolerate. But they'd made a habit of putting up with each other a long time ago. Yeah, a habit, that was a big part of it. They were Guide and Sentinel, and it was a habit Blair could certainly live with, and he was secure enough in his friendship with Jim to know the feeling was mutual.

"Something funny, there, Chief?" Jim asked, as they emerged from the large conference room, merging with the general lunch-break-happy throng.

"What?" Blair thought he'd kept the smile to himself.

"As laughable an idea of inter-departmental cooperation is, I thought the woman made a few points."

"Oh, you know me, I'm all for cooperation. I think she scored more than a few points, man. You should probably get a tape of that for Simon."

"Yeah, probably. So, if it wasn't the last session…"

"Nothing."

"Don't start cracking up over nothing, Sandburg, or we'll be making a trip to a whole different place."

"I've already visited the loony bin, remember?"

"Come on, what was it?" Jim prodded.

Glad to serve as a diversion from Jim's tiredness, Blair decided to forego seeing whether his friend's curiosity or dignity was stronger. "I dunno, I guess I was just thinking… You know, it's pretty incredible that, despite being polar opposites in just about every way, after all these years we're still…"

"Together?" Jim supplied with a quirk of his mouth.

Blair made a face. "Dude…that sounds like we're dating, or something. I was actually thinking 'friends'."

"And this is what you were laughing over?"

"Smiling, Jim, just smiling. You're the one who assumed I was amused by something."

Jim conceded with a nod of his head. "All right, well, where are we heading for lunch? I think we've pretty much exhausted the closest restaurants in the area."

"There was that one place I spotted yesterday…"

"Yeah, and I got a good whiff of it while we were walking past. No way."

"I refuse to have a burger for the third day in a row," Blair protested.

"They have those breaded chicken…things," Jim reminded.

"Don't make me puke, man. Some of the things you continue to count as palatable, even with your supposedly superior sense of taste…" Blair glanced suspiciously at Jim. "You don't turn the dial down to zero when you eat, do you?"

"I wouldn't miss a moment of junk food," Jim retorted indignantly.

"I think it's time we branched out."

"We won't get back in time."

"So?" Blair stepped first into the revolving door, and waited until Jim was through to continue. "Let's play hooky."

Jim shook his head with an exasperated look.

"Oh, c'mon, man," Blair insisted. "We've pretty much punched all the required hours already, and there's still a full day left tomorrow." He pulled the conference schedule out of his back pocket and began to read off the subjects of upcoming talks. "Ah, here's a really good one about psychology, and dealing with the emotional toll of the job… And then it looks like Mrs. let's-just-all-get-along is back for a second time."

"Sandburg…"

"But that's not all. Our entertainment for the evening is one 'Will Watson'." Blair couldn't help but give snort at the name's lyrical ring. "From the sound of it, he will be attempting to convert us to his love of all advantages mechanical, and usher us into the wonders of upcoming technology." He gave a mock cringe of self-disapproval. "I really shouldn't be so prejudiced, just 'cause the last guy turned out to be a total nerd, whose infatuation with computers was downright creepy..."

"Don't stop now, Chief, you're on a roll. Why don't you tell me the cons of not attending the next session?"

"Well we're only in Washington D.C., man—what could there possibly be to do here?" Blair returned sarcastically.

"We took a week of vacation time for after this conference for a reason. We'll get to see your museums when this is over, Sandburg."

"I wasn't actually thinking about museums today." Blair shrugged in resignation. "But you're right, by all means, let's grab a greasy sandwich and hurry back. Wouldn't want to miss a minute. I know your affinity for all things psychological, team-spirited, and techy…"

"You've made your point. What do you have in mind?"

Blair restrained himself from doing a fist-pump, but he grinned nonetheless. "Just a walk in the park."

"Now who's making us a sound like a couple?" Jim noted wryly.

"You've had a headache for two days, Jim. And you've been getting more and more tense the last few days. Sometimes repressing your senses can be just as painful as extending them too much. You're either going to pass out or maim someone if we don't get you somewhere less crowded."

Jim raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at him.

Blair shook his head. "I'm your Guide, man, it's my job to think of these things."

"And you always do, Chief." Jim gave him clap on the shoulder. "Let's find a place to eat…and then, the park it is."

ooo

A rather quaint sidewalk deli/café was finally agreed upon as a compromise. There were several healthy-sounding dishes that produced a disgusted look from Jim, from which Blair readily chose one, and a roast beef sandwich received a grudging "it's not bad" from Jim.

A walk in the park turned out to be exactly the break they both needed.

"Relax a little," Blair encouraged, as they traversed the paved pathway.

Jim's eyes absently followed a passing jogger. "It's like I'm in a fog, lately. The dials feel all…sluggish."

Blair considered for a minute, before musing, "Maybe you've got some kind of Sentinel-specific version of a head cold." He smiled non-mockingly. "You know, like your senses are congested…or something."

"Or something," Jim agreed with a short laugh. "Leave it to you to come with an analogy for everything. That does make sense, though. In an odd, disgusting way. Doesn't really explain why I've got this nagging feeling that there's something I should be sensing here. Almost like there's some kind of threat, but… not quite."

"Huh. Let's see…" Blair narrowed his eyes in consideration of possible strategies.

"You know, you don't have to have an answer for everything," Jim commented lightly. "Just because you happen to be the world's foremost and only Sentinel expert, it's not like I expect you to automatically know everything."

"Of course I do—and of course you do," Blair interjected with a faked aggrieved look. "Now let me think." Blair's cell chose that moment to start ringing. "Ah…sorry, it must be the lady who emailed me earlier. Just…uh, try putting some mental WD40 on the dials, Jim." He flipped his phone open. "This is Blair."

"Blair Sandburg? Hey, I'm Abby Scuito—you said in your email that calling around lunchtime would be the most convenient. I hope this a good time, because I wasn't sure exactly what was too late, and what was too early to be considered 'lunchtime', and I really, really need to talk to you…"

The "voice" in the email had sounded professional enough, and the enthusiasm of the woman on the other end caught Blair off-guard. "No, uh, this is a great time. Perfect, actually."

"Oh good…"

Her obvious relief made Blair smile. Her next statement made the expression freeze on his face.

"You're the only one I could find who seems to know anything first-hand about Sentinels."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, your thesis…"

Blair wasn't rude by nature, but if there was one subject that had the power to make him feel instantly anxious and touchy it was the thesis that had nearly ruined his friendship with Jim—not to mention put that friend in harm's way. Still, he tried to keep his voice polite, if a bit strained. Although Jim wasn't actually looking at him, he had a feeling his ears were probably tuned in to the conversation. "If you know about my thesis, you probably know about the statement I made to the press, too."

"Well…yeah, I know you said that it was nothing more than an 'immoral and unethical' piece of fiction…"

Ouch—Blair so did not need to hear a re-quote of that particularly painful speech.

"…but I don't think you really meant it."

"Excuse me, Miss Sciuto—"

"Abby," she interposed firmly.

Great, now he could hardly sound as stern as he'd intended to. "Right…Abby. Look, I know how fascinating the concept of Sentinels is. Believe me, I do. But I did mean what I said. I got too wrapped up in the desire for it to be real—to prove to academia that I was right—and it made me do some pretty dumb things." It might have been his mom who, technically, created the disaster, but he'd always hold himself equally responsible for writing the thing in the first place. It had been unrealistic, and not worth the potential to damage it had always held. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's a rather painful subject for me, and I'd rather not revisit it." Now he could feel Jim's eyes on him.

"But you don't understand…" Her voice was softly sympathetic, but determined. "I think I know someone who's a Sentinel. One with all five senses, like you talk about."

Jim and Blair's eyes met with simultaneous "oh boy" looks, and Blair opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to come up with a response. She didn't sound like a nutcase, but he knew there were a couple of 'em out there who had taken a fervent attachment to his theories. "Ah…Abby. I…"

"Oh, so you were protecting him, then…" she breathed understandingly. She sounded genuinely admiring. "That was really noble, Mr. Sandburg. It must have really been a huge self-sacrifice to willingly discredit all your research, and I bet your Sentinel really—"

"It's Blair," he automatically corrected—then wished he hadn't. What "Abby" needed was some firm discouragement from any further discussion of the subject, not encouragement to call him by his first name. In a stilted attempted to undo the damage, he tried formality again. "Miss Sciuto, I'm really sorry to disappoint you, but Sentinels don't exist." He had to resist the urge to elbow a smirking Jim.

"But you can't just… I mean, please, I really need your help. My friend really needs your help—he's zoned out like three times in the last week. He really lost it the other day, and he had to call Gibbs, and now Gibbs is just…murderous—I mean, he's not like yelling-and-screaming murderous, but I can tell that he is, anyway—and it's because we can't come up with any plausible answers. We're all trying so hard to come up with something, and the only thing I've been able to find that fits is your stuff on Sentinels, but Gibbs says I don't have enough proof that they exist. It's the only answer I can find, though, and Gibbs is not going to be happy if we don't solve this, and To- —my friend, that is—isn't doing so well with all this. He can't keep working at NCIS if he can't control it, and I have no clue how to help him, and it's scaring him—even though he won't admit it—and it's scaring me, and…" The flow of words stopped for a moment, and she asked, sounding desperate, "Mr. Sandburg—Blair? You haven't hung up, have you?"

God help him, he should have hung up. However, there was something about her anxiety—so obviously genuine in its rambling, unrehearsed way—that prevented Blair from doing so. The way she was being so careful not to mention the name of this "friend" also struck a cord with him. No one could pretend that kind of concern, and it reflected that she understood the potential danger of publicity to Sentinels. If she really did have a genuine Sentinel on her hands, that was. It was still a big "if," but one that he was becoming curious to confirm or disprove. "No, I'm still here," he assured. "Could you hold on a minute?"

"Uh…sure." She sounded like she was biting her lip, crossing her fingers, and pressing the phone too tightly to her ear. Hmm, maybe those Sentinel abilities were contagious. Or maybe he had a really wild imagination. "I'll be here," she added, obviously prodding him to remember to be to be there too.

He covered the speaker on his phone, and lowered it, looking uncertainly at Jim. He expected Jim to respond with something along the lines of "Alex Barnes ring a bell?" but instead Jim looked as if he was actually giving it some frank consideration. Blair raised both eyebrows in an equally frank display of his surprise. Jim mirrored the expression, as if to say, "Hey, I can be humane, too, ya know." Blair shrugged and shook his head. It's up to you, man. Your call. Jim gave an enigmatic smile that looked partially incredulous—at himself, no doubt—and nodded. Blair hesitated. You sure about this, Jim? Jim gave him a threatening look: just do it, Chief, before I change my mind.

"Abby? You still there?"

"Yes!"

Blair cringed at the volume of the answer. "Can I ask where you are?"

"Oh, yeah, sure—my lab." She corrected herself before Blair had the chance, giving a small, lightly self-derogatory laugh: "Of course, you mean where, geographically… Washington D.C.."

Blair shared yet another surprised glance with Jim. "How…fortuitous."

"What do you mean? Everything I found online about you says you live in Cascade, Washington state…"

"Yeah, I do. But right now I'm away at a conference."

"You're here?" Abby jumped to the conclusion with delight. "This is like… whoa, fate. It was destined to be."

"Wait a minute, we—" Blair began.

"'We'? Does this mean you're with your Sentinel? That's right, the thesis said he was a with a detective with the Cascade PD, so you must be at a conference for—"

"I didn't say—"

"Sorry. That's all right; I won't make you say anything you don't want to. I promise I won't pry, or anything, if you help us… It's just, if you really do know a Sentinel, it would be awfully encouraging, I think, for…erm, my friend to meet another…one." She laughed. "Boy, that sounded awkward."

"Can I say something?" Blair inserted as soon she paused. Jim was smirking again, and this time Blair did give him a quick jab between the ribs.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm babbling…I've just been so excited, and scared, and now I'm so relieved." She checked herself sheepishly. "But, yeah, sorry, babbling again."

She was babbling. But what Blair found interesting was that her babble, for all its incredible speed, and occasionally too-bright, too-ditzy quality, it wasn't nonsense. She was intelligent. Emotional, definitely, but no idiot. He had a feeling the amount of emotion she was showing now, although not an anomaly, was currently at a more intense level than was entirely normal for her . "I can't promise anything for sure, but…"

"Lunch—tomorrow? Or, wait, you're at a conference… Maybe dinner?"

Blair had to smile. How on earth did she fuel that kind of eagerness? A steady stream of caffeine? And Jim thought he could be hyper. "Yeah, I think dinner would be great."

"Great," she echoed. "I'll see when Gibbs and…" She seemed to have come to a decision, and entrusted Blair with a first name, "…Tony can get away, and call you back later about details."

"Sounds good. But, um, Abby… Watch out for him, okay? Zones can be really dangerous." In his mind's eye, Blair could see Jim out in the street, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the red Frisbee in flight, oblivious to the garbage truck bearing down on him. Blair had come way too close to never really getting to know his Sentinel at all.

"Aww, I will," she replied fervently. "But don't worry, he has lotsa keepers."

ooo

TBC

A/N: I continue to be blown away by all the encouraging reviews you guys are sending! I really, really appreciate it. Thank you Dani, Gloria Ferguson, g, Kelly, and Gold Berry—though I didn't have a way to respond to you comments, I loved hearing from you. ;)

Here we have our first meeting of NCIS and TS characters... And, of course, the next chapter has face-to-face encounters between Blair, Jim and several more of the NCIS cast. As always, hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. =)

Ah—almost forgot to mention this. Anyone unfamiliar with The Sentinel won't have a clue who "Alex Barnes" is. Don't worry, I will be explaining a little about her later on in the story. Suffice it to say, for now, she's another Sentinel Jim met once upon a time, and things did NOT go well at all. If you want to know more now, I do have those reference links to more TS info/fics up in my profile. ;)