Living Between The Lines

by LilyK

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It was a warm, sunny day when Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg walked from the elevator into the bullpen, and froze in their tracks. Everyone sat hunched in his or her chair, head down, face red with embarrassment or pale with dismay. It took only a few moments for the confused duo to realize that the reason for the total silence and the looks on their co-workers' faces was that Simon's intercom was on -- obviously unknown to him.

The voices coming through the speaker in the bullpen were angry and loud. One was Simon's; the other was a woman's.

"How many times do I have to insist that you do something about this?" the woman shouted.

"Exactly what do you expect me to do?" Simon answered testily. "They're grown men. For God's sake, they're two of my best officers! I trust them, and I won't do anything to hurt their careers or their personal relationship!"

"I don't give a damn about your fucking pig squad! I want my son out of here now before you and your kind get him killed! To hell with their personal relationship! I can't believe you condone this behavior!"

"Your son is a grown man, Ms. Sandburg. He can make his own decisions."

Jim and Blair stood rooted in place. Blair's face turned a deathly shade of white and he began to shake with shock and rage.

"Naomi?" Blair whispered, his voice low and angry.

"Besides," Naomi continued, "I happen to know that it's against policy for two people who are -- intimate -- to be partners! It's dangerous for my son! Ellison will get him killed and it will be on your head!"

"Now wait just a second," Simon growled, "Sandburg and Ellison are an excellent team! They are fully trained and very competent. Their private lives are not my concern."

Jim turned to reach out a hand toward his partner, but Blair was already moving. He crossed to Simon's office and without knocking, shoved the door open with full force. He strode into the room, oblivious to the stunned gazes of his boss and his mother.

Trembling with anger, Blair walked up to his mother and stopped just inches from her. "Get out."

"Blair! Please!" Naomi stammered, her eyes wide with distress.

With his gaze riveted on Naomi, he said in a low voice, "Captain, your intercom is on."

"Oh, shit. You mean...!" Simon dove for the intercom button, then sank back into his seat. Running a hand down his face, he said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

Blair's gaze never left Naomi's face when he said, "It's not your fault, Captain. It's hers." He nodded toward his mother. After a long pause, he finally said, "I want you to leave. Now."

"Blair, I can explain!" Naomi said tearfully.

"I don't care to listen to you." He gave Naomi a dismissive look before he turned to Banks. "If you can spare me for an hour or so, Captain, I'd like to go to lunch."

"Blair," Simon said quietly, "take the rest of the day off."

Sighing deeply, Blair shook his head. "Thanks, Simon. That won't be necessary. I have work to do. I'll be at my desk in an hour. Thank you, sir." Raising his head high, Blair walked from the office. When he passed by his partner, Jim started to move toward him. Blair held up a hand and gave a small shake of his head as he passed by.

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Ignoring Naomi, who ran after Blair, frantically calling his name, and unsure exactly what to do, Jim glanced at Simon as he slowly walked toward him. Simon waved a hand toward Jim, his face showing his distress.

"Go after him, Jim. I don't want him doing anything rash. We'll talk in my office later. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," Jim answered and followed Naomi and Blair.

Tuning in to his partner's rapid heart rate and respiration, Jim tracked Blair to the second floor men's locker room. He could hear Naomi calling Blair's name from the hallway, but there was no answer from his partner. He exited the elevator and walked toward where Naomi hovered, incessantly tapping on the door. Jim was almost surprised that she had bothered to stop in the hallway. Usually Naomi followed her own rules, and a small sign indicating that this was the men's locker room normally wouldn't have stopped the pushy woman.

Naomi spotted Jim immediately. Jim certainly wasn't in the mood for a confrontation. His anger bubbled right below the surface and a wrong word or look from his lover's mother would have him exploding in seconds. He was more worried about his partner right now, so he disregarded her red eyes and flushed face as he stepped around her.

Jim wasn't surprised, though, when at the last moment, Naomi stepped in front of him.

"You'll kill my son, you bastard."

"I'd die for him," Jim said sharply.

"It's all your fault. First you drag him around for three years, then you get him kicked out of school...!"

Jim took a step toward Naomi. He felt a stab of satisfaction at the sudden fear reflected in her eyes as he towered over her, and almost laughed in disgust when her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped.

"I love Blair," he said deliberately, anger threatening to erupt. He forced the fury down for the moment. "Your idea of history seems to be greatly revised in your favor. You think I'll get Blair killed? What about his soul? What about his life? You killed his heart, Naomi. You've interfered once too often and you've hurt him deeply. Now get out of my way."

With tears flowing down her cheeks, Naomi swallowed hard. Jim could hear her throat clicking dryly, and she stepped aside quickly. Still, she managed to whisper, "It's all your fault."

"You need to leave." Jim pushed the door open.

"He's my son," Naomi said, her tone clearly conveying that the fact she was Blair's mother explained everything, forgave her all.

Jim stopped. Shrugging his shoulders, he answered, "It wasn't supposed to be a contest between us, but you've turned it into one. Now, after what you've just done, I wonder if he's better off without a mother like you. You've put his career in jeopardy. Worse, you stupid woman, you've endangered his life." Jim sighed deeply; his shoulders slumped for a moment. "I'll take care of him. You've really done it this time, Naomi." He released the door and it closed in her face with a soft whoosh.

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After checking to be sure the rest of the locker room was vacant and after sliding the door's lock, Jim cleared his throat to announce his presence to his distraught partner, who sat very still on one of the hard, wooden benches placed between the rows of metal lockers.

"Chief?"

Blair sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. Turning distraught eyes toward Jim, he nodded. "Jim."

"You okay?"

"No."

Jim sat down. "I know." He put a reassuring hand on Blair's leg, hoping to offer comfort, but he wasn't surprised when Blair reacted immediately.

Blair rose and glared down at his partner. "Damn it, Jim! Do you know what she's done? Nobody's ever going to leave you alone now! Every fucking prejudiced person in the entire police department will be hassling you. They'll remember the Sentinel shit from two years ago, and this will add more fuel to the fire!"

"Please, just calm down. I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Me?" Blair looked genuinely puzzled. "Fuck, Jim. Nobody cares a rat's ass about me. Hell, man, maybe I should disappear and then this will all blow over. I can't keep you safe like this!"

Jim stood and grabbed Blair's upper arms. His fingers tightened and in a strangled voice he whispered, "Don't ever say that! Don't! You think you can just leave, and I'll be safe? That I don't care about you? What? Our relationship doesn't mean a thing to you? What about us? I thought you and I..." Jim bit his lower lip, embarrassed at the pleading tone that started to escape.

Their gazes met, and after Blair scrutinized him intently for a long moment, he gave a small nod. Moving in, he pressed a hand to Jim's chest. "Sorry," he said softly. "I'm -- sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything!" With his free hand wrapped around Jim's wrist, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "I love you."

With a feeling of great relief, Jim closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them. Leaning down, he put his lips close to Blair's ear. "Me, too, Chief. I love you more than anything. This is just -- a bump in the road. We'll be okay as long as we stick together." His lips barely brushed a spot of warm skin and after pulling back, he gave his partner a small smile, adding, "And we'll talk about -- this, but not here. We need to meet with Simon and then later, tonight at home, we'll decide what to do."

"Do?" Blair asked, clearly confused.

Jim nodded adamantly. "Yeah, about us, what we'll tell people about us, if anything, and about Naomi."

Shaking his head vehemently, Blair growled, "I don't want to talk to her. Ever again."

Jim slipped an arm around Blair's shoulders. "You're hurt now, but she is your mother. She's done some really thoughtless things, but she does love you."

Blair shook his head again. "She doesn't respect my decisions nor does she care what I think or how I feel. It's always about her and what she wants or thinks I should want. I'm tired of it."

"I know. But..."

"No buts. I've made up my mind."

"Okay. Your decision. But we stick together, right?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, okay. Together." He gave Jim a half-hearted smile. "Simon is going to kill us."

Jim gave a crooked grin. "Yeah, I know. But you realize he's known about us for at least twelve months."

"He has?"

"He hasn't said, but he knows. He also knows that you're what grounds my senses and in your own right, you're a hell of a cop. You've proved yourself time and time again."

"What happens if..."

Jim put a finger on Blair's lips. "No ifs, ands, or buts. We're cops, we're partners, we're lovers. It's a package deal. He takes us the way we are or we find someplace that will. The world's a big place. Plenty of options out there for us. Okay?"

"You'd -- leave?" Blair said breathlessly. "Quit the force?"

"Of course," Jim said matter-of-factly. "Was there ever a question about you and me and forever, Chief? I thought we had that settled months ago."

Blair shook his head, finally smiling. "No, man, no question. None at all." He shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. Giving Jim a shy glance, he said, "Thanks."

Jim grinned. "Goes both ways, partner. Thank you."

Blair rolled his eyes. "You are so easy."

Jim chuckled. "I'll remind you of that later tonight."

"Cool." Blair glanced at the door and his eyes clouded over. "Is she -- gone?"

Turning, Jim paused before he said, "Yeah. Come on, the captain doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Lead on, partner. Our firing squad awaits."

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Blair raised an eyebrow at Jim, who smiled reassuringly at him as he knocked on the captain's office door.

"Come!"

Jim opened the door and waited a moment for Simon's beckoning wave before he entered, followed by his partner.

"Sit."

Once they'd taken seats, Simon pushed a file across his desk. Jim flipped through the pages.

Simon said, "We have a couple of missing containers of heavy-duty equipment from Pier 17. The owner says that the ship was fully loaded two nights ago and was set to sail this morning. Now it's missing about $500,000 in cargo."

"Captain?" Blair asked, surprised at the topic of conversation.

"Yes, Sandburg?"

"Did you want to talk about what happened?"

Drawing on his cigar, Simon leaned back in his chair and puffed contentedly for a few moments before he blew out a cloud of smoke. Looking directly at Blair, he said, "No."

"I think I should apologize," Blair said.

"No need," Simon responded, "although you should know that Ms. Sandburg is now restricted to the visitors' lounge on the first floor. I've instructed security that she's not to be given a pass to the rest of the building."

Blair sat up straight. "That's it? You're not -- firing me? This morning was my fault. I've embarrassed the department and my partner." He gave Jim a quick glance.

Jim closed the file and set it down on the edge of the desk. "Chief..."

"Gentlemen." Simon held up a hand. "It's okay, Jim." Smiling, he continued. "You aren't fired, Sandburg. You're working. On that case, in fact," he added, pointing toward the file folder. “The -- incident -- wasn't your fault. If anything, it's mine. Not unless you asked your mother to make an ass of herself in front of the entire department."

"But I thought..." Blair sputtered, "Jim and I-"

"You, Detective Sandburg," Simon interrupted, "and your partner, have always conducted yourselves in a professional manner in this department. You do your job, and you do it very well. That's all I care about." Simon rose and pointed toward the door. "Work, gentlemen. That's what you're paid for. I don't have time to sit and visit."

Blair ducked his head and breathed deeply. Rising, he turned to Simon and said, "Thank you, Captain."

"Out. And take your silent partner with you."

With the sound of Simon's deep chuckle following them from the room, Jim and Blair quickly left before their boss changed his mind.

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"What the fuck?" Jim growled, eying his truck parked in the far corner of the parking garage.

"Oh, shit," Blair sighed, too emotionally exhausted at the moment to manage more than a tired comment.

"It's started already."

"Yeah. Sorry, Jim."

"It's not your fault some asshole slashed the tires. Don't take on more than your share of guilt." At Blair's raised eyebrow, Jim shrugged. "Simon told me that once. I wish I had taken his advice more often."

Blair gave Jim a rueful smile. "Don't we all."

"What?"

"Wish we had taken good advice, man. We all wish we had with hindsight."

Jim circled the truck, shaking his head in exasperation. "Getting philosophical here, aren't we, Chief?"

Shrugging, Blair said, "I'm tired. It makes me introspective."

Sympathetically, Jim gave a small 'humph' before shaking his head again. "Yeah, I know. Let's see if we can get a loaner from the duty sergeant. I need to call the auto club and get the truck towed to a garage for new tires. Then, since this happened on department property, I need to fill out a report for IA. Better call my insurance agent, too," he added to the list while he rubbed his forehead.

Blair put a hand on Jim's arm. "You make the calls. I'll sign out for the loaner and start on the IA report."

"Deal. Thanks."

"Hey, man. That's what partners are for."

"Damn straight."

Looking at each other, they finally grinned. "Not any more," Blair quipped, earning him a playful swat on the arm from his partner.

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After several phone calls, two reports, and the beginning of a grand larceny investigation at the docks, Jim and Blair reached home in the wee hours of the morning.

Sighing, Jim put his head back on the loaner car's headrest and groaned. "I'm tired, hungry and need a shower."

"Huh?" Blair murmured sleepily when Jim reached out and gently shook his shoulder. "We home?"

"That's our building. So yeah, we're home. Let's go and take a shower, have a bite and sleep for two days. I'm beat."

Holding up the take-out bag from Taco Bell, Blair said, "This doesn't sound all that good, man, but I'm hungry. Too bad nothing else is open on this side of town after midnight."

"It'll do for tonight." Turning tired eyes to his mate, Jim smiled. "I'll share the shower with you."

"That's an offer I can't refuse. Then at least one good thing will have happened today."

Opening his door, Jim exited the vehicle and waited in front of it for Blair. Slinging an arm around his partner's shoulders, Jim gave him a quick hug. "You're always a good thing, Chief."

Blair smiled. "Thanks. Love you, too."

Together they entered the building. Jim punched the elevator button and after much creaking and groaning of the cables, the doors slid open with a screech. Jim flinched.

"Man, that hurt my ears. Geez, Jim, you okay?" Blair inquired.

Running a finger around the inside of an ear, Jim nodded. "Remind me to lube that damn thing the first chance I get."

"It needs dynamite, not lube."

Chuckling, Jim entered the elevator and tugged on Blair's shirt sleeve, drawing him close. Wrapping an arm around Blair's shoulders, he kissed his lover's lips lightly. Pulling back from the kiss when the elevator stopped on the third floor, Jim's arm tightened. "I needed that."

Blair smiled and leaned against Jim for a moment before they walked toward the door to the loft. "Any kiss from you is needed. Not to mention fun. I-"

Both men stopped and stared before exchanging tight-lipped looks.

"Fuck," Blair muttered, seeing the door to their home ajar.

"Don't tell me..." Jim growled, releasing his lover and pulling his weapon.

Blair set down the bag of food and pulled his gun. "Do you hear anything?"

"No, but I'm really wiped out. Let's be on the safe side."

Holding the gun with both hands, he aimed forward and led the way. Transferring the gun to his right hand, he used his left to push the door open the rest of the way. Blair followed closely on Jim's heels when he stealthily entered the apartment. Exchanging glances, Jim flicked his eyes toward the second level. With a nod, Blair went toward the back of the apartment to check his former bedroom, now office space, and the bathroom.

Jim carefully picked his way over the scattered and broken contents of his and Blair's home. He climbed the stairs quietly, however, a thorough search of the loft revealed no one lurking, but the entire living space was a complete and total shambles. Every drawer and closet had been opened and the contents were strewn hither and yon. The bed had been completely stripped and the mattress cover had been cut into ribbons.

Glancing over the railing, Jim saw Blair cross the living room and slide open the balcony door. He waited silently while Blair made a quick check of the balcony before returning to the living room, holstering his gun. When he glanced up and met Jim's gaze, he shook his head and raised his hands, palms up.

Jim nodded and finally took a closer look at the first floor. Meanwhile, Blair walked around, muttering and cursing the absent perpetrator, and asking all the gods of heaven and earth for a bit of divine retribution against the idiot. Jim grimaced as he trotted back down the stairs, kicking several broken pottery pieces out of his way. The sofas had been overturned and slashed as well. Every item on the stereo shelves was smashed or torn. One of Blair's Mayan masks had been thrown through the television screen. Jim sighed tiredly.

Standing next to Blair, they looked toward the kitchen. The fridge had been opened and the food had been thrown against the cabinets. Every cabinet was open and all of the contents had been flung into the middle of the floor. Even the knobs on the stove had been pried off.

Blair pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called dispatch. Jim walked around haphazardly, not touching anything of consequence that could be dusted for prints while Blair called in to report the vandalism.

"A unit's on its way," Blair said. Tight-lipped, Jim nodded. "Whoever did this picked a good time," Blair said bitterly. "The second floor is vacant for renovations, and Bob and Emily are away on vacation, so this floor was unoccupied all day today. Nobody probably heard or saw a thing." Blair said angrily, "Damn it, Jim! What the hell are we going to do?"

"Go to a hotel?"

"You know that's not what I mean!" Blair shouted.

"Let's face it. Somebody at the department is behind this. Nobody else knows what happened, but the people who were in the bullpen today -- or whoever they talked to about it."

"And it's all my mother's fault. God, I'm so sorry!"

Grabbing hold of one end of the sofa, Jim said, "Give me a hand here."

Blair moved forward and together they turned the piece of furniture upright. They took a minute to search out the sofa cushions. Luckily some of them had been slashed only on one side. Jim carefully arranged the cushions and sank down.

"We need to talk now. Before the investigating unit gets here." Jim patted the seat next to him.

Blair's shoulders slumped. After closing the front door, he sat on the sofa next to his lover. "So talk," he said shortly.

"This is not your fault."

"Oh? And just whose fault is it? It was my mother who opened her big mouth and screamed at our boss today, in case you've forgotten," Blair added flippantly. "If she'd have minded her own business, none of this," Blair waved a hand to encompass the disaster that was their home, "would have happened! Get a clue, man. I'm bad news. If anything is going to go wrong, it will have something to do with me! She fucked up our lives with the dissertation and now she's fucked up our lives..."

Jim clamped strong hands on Blair's upper arms and dragged his partner closer so they were sitting face to face, inches apart. "You are not responsible for your mother's behavior. Do you hear me?" Jim gave Blair a small shake. "Do you?" he demanded.

"Yeah, I hear you, but I'm not falling for it. It is my fault. Totally. Just like when she got hold of the fucking thesis."

"Geez, Chief, so what? So she's a pain in the ass. She's not you! You can't control her actions."

"Maybe it's about time I tried. Because, man, if she ever does anything that hurts you -- I don't know what I'd do." Groaning, Blair said, "I am so fucked."

Pulling Blair close, Jim wrapped his arms around the shaking shoulders. "Take a deep breath and relax, my love." When Blair rested his forehead against Jim's shoulder, he kissed the top of the curly head. "We've lived through a lot worse than this. We'll be fine."

Sighing deeply, Blair hugged Jim tightly. "I don't know why you put up with me. If I were you, I'd toss myself out on my ass."

Remembering what happened the time that Jim did exactly that, he shuddered. "No," he said softly. "Never. I couldn't handle that again."

Pulling out of the embrace, Blair rested his hands on Jim's chest, his troubled eyes searching Jim's face. "Oh, man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag up old shit. You okay?"

Giving Blair a half-hearted smile, Jim's fingers gently traced Blair's cheek. "Don't worry. I'm fine. Besides, we have company," he said, cocking a head toward the door. "Would you please let them in so we can get it over with and clean up the worst of the damage?"

"Sure. For you, anything." Leaning down, he planted a quick kiss on Jim's forehead before he opened the door.

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The next morning, the partners slept late, rose and grabbed a quick breakfast on the way to the docks to follow up on a couple of good leads on the theft they were investigating. Several hours of investigation proved fruitful and after a sandwich from the cafe around the corner from the precinct, Jim and Blair settled down at their desks in the bullpen to fill out their reports. After turning in the paperwork to Banks, they headed to the tire store to pick up Jim's truck, returned the loaner car, and then made a trip to Wal-Mart to replace the essentials ruined in the vandalism. Three hundred dollars later, and with the pickup truck bed full of blue bags, Jim and Blair pulled into Jim's usual parking space on Prospect Street.

Hopping from the truck, both men filled their hands with the plastic bags.

"Go ahead. Since we can't carry everything in one trip, I'll wait here until you drop your load. I'd really be pissed if somebody ripped us off after we just spent two hours picking out all this stuff."

Jim chuckled. "Getting a bit suspicious of your fellow man, Chief?"

Blair shrugged. "After the last few days, what did you expect? Better safe than sorry, as they say."

"Okay. It makes sense. No use looking for more trouble. I'll be right back."

"Hurry up, man. I'm hungry."

"Hold your horses," Jim called over his shoulder. "I'll be quick."

"Yeah, yeah," Blair answered, leaning back against the truck's side panel to wait for his partner to return. Crossing his arms, he scanned left and right to make sure nobody was eying their purchases. He snorted softly at himself. He was acting a bit overly suspicious, but he didn't care. Lately, his luck seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. Sighing, he thought about his lover. Keeping Jim safe was his main concern and so far, other than the vandalism, neither he nor Jim had been threatened physically as a result of Naomi's blunder, but he was taking no chances.

Jim pushed the glass street-level door open and when Blair's gaze met his, he gave his partner a warm smile. Blair grabbed two handfuls of shopping bags and started across the street. When Blair met Jim about halfway, Jim leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Jim! Somebody will see."

Jim shrugged. "So, let them. I'm tired of hiding our relationship."

"Do you have a death wish?"

"No. Honestly, I'm not going to take out an ad in the Cascade Times, but if I want to give you a kiss or hold your hand, I'm going to do it. If you don't mind, that is."

Blair couldn't keep the grin from his face. He felt himself blush, but he didn't care. He was proud to be Jim's partner. "I don't mind. In fact, I'm proud to be your partner."

Nodding, Jim squeezed his lover's shoulder lightly. "Two more trips each, and we'll have it covered. Hurry." Jim swatted Blair's backside, making him bark with laughter and take off at a trot.

"I'll get you later, man," Blair said under his breath, making Jim chuckle in response.

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Jim turned back to the truck, rearranging the bags still left, pulling them to the side of the bed so Blair could easily reach his share. He had just tugged the last bag close when a small sound, much like a baby's cry, reached his ears. Puzzled, Jim turned toward the source of the noise: the alley between his building and the neighboring one. When the cry came again, he didn't even need his Sentinel hearing to follow it.

He trotted across the street and entered the alley, zeroing on the sound. The rustling in a nearby trashcan caught his attention, and for a second, he panicked, thinking somebody had abandoned a child in the garbage. Quickly, he pulled the lid from the large metal can and peered inside. Adjusting his eyesight to the dark interior, he saw the object of the cries -- a rather large, very noisy and obviously frightened Siamese cat.

"Hey, little guy," Jim crooned, reaching down into the trash. "Who put you in here?" Scratching the furry ears, Jim made small, comforting sounds. Concentrating on the frightened animal, Jim reached in. Before he could scoop up the abandoned creature, a hand gripped his shoulder and fingers dug painfully into his skin, shoving him forward.

Jim reacted quickly. He started to turn as he brought his arm up, using his forearm to smash into his attacker's arm. The attacker grunted and the grip on Jim's shoulder fell away. Jim spun around and instantly saw a flash of metal. His senses registered the knife that was gripped in a meaty fist. For his size, the man moved swiftly. He slashed out.

In the confined space, Jim raised his arm, protecting his torso from the blade's bite. Blinding pain when the knife connected caused Jim to stumble backward a few steps. He spared a glance at the wound and swallowed hard. The blood spurted out in a red geyser, and he quickly clamped a hand tightly over the gaping laceration, knowing immediately that his artery had been severed.

Struggling to focus through the pain, he glanced up and saw his attacker step forward, knife waving menacingly. He knew that the man had the advantage now, yet he refused to give up without a fight. The man moved in for the fatal stab; Jim kicked out. The attacker's grin was feral as he easily eluded Jim's awkward defense. Dizzy now, Jim's vision clouded. The man moved forward. He was surprised that he registered the knife's blade as it glinted in the sunlight. Then the nausea and dizziness washed over him as he felt himself sink onto the dirty pavement.

---------------------------------

"Drop the fucking knife!" Blair's voice cut through the silence of the alley. "Drop it now!" Pointing his weapon at the armed man who surged toward his partner, Blair yelled, "Cascade Police! Drop the weapon or I'll shoot!"

The sound of the cocking pistol echoed off the brick walls. The attacker froze and turned toward Blair, who stood less than five feet away, feet apart, weapon firmly held at shoulder level and pointed directly at the man's head.

"Do it now!" Blair growled, "or you’re dead meat." His finger flexed minutely. The man took barely a moment to meet Blair's gaze. Silently, he dropped his knife and clenched his fists. "Get on your knees. Put your hands behind your head," Blair ordered.

When the perp dropped to his knees, Blair quickly moved behind the man. Expertly he slipped the gun into his shoulder holster and pulled out his handcuffs. He snapped the cuffs around one wrist before he yanked the attacker's other arm behind his back. When both wrists were secured, he roughly shoved the man face down onto the pavement. "Move a hair, and I'll put a bullet in your fucking head."

Blair raced to Jim's side. Jim had fallen to his knees and sat back on his legs with a dazed look on his face. He still had his hand wrapped around his wrist and he held the injured arm tightly against his chest. Blood poured down his arm and dripped from his elbow onto his jeans.

"Oh, God! Jim." Blair pulled his cell and dialed 911. Giving his location and the proclamation of "officer down", he asked for backup and an ambulance before he disconnected and turned his attention to his partner.

Jim's surprised gaze was riveted on Blair's face. Touching Jim's shoulder, Blair could feel the tremors coursing through his body. Glancing at the attacker to ascertain that he hadn't moved, Blair gently touched Jim's face.

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Blair?" Jim's voice was hoarse and tinged with pain. He blinked, looking dazed.

"Yeah. It's me. Let me help." Blair wrapped his hand below Jim's, deciding not to move Jim's hand, which was acting as a temporary tourniquet. From the amount of blood, Blair knew that the wound was very serious. With their combined pressure on the injury, the bleeding seemed to lessen somewhat. With Jim's pain-filled eyes riveted on his face, Blair murmured reassuringly, "Okay You're losing a lot of blood. You're doing a good job keeping pressure on that cut. I know you're in major pain here, so I need you to dial it down. Can you do that? Talk to me. Come on, man, you can do it."

Jim shivered. "Hurts," he said softly, shaking harder. His eyes fluttered and his head listed. "I... Wha...?" When Jim shook his head several times, Blair could see him desperately trying to keep his focus.

After another glance at the attacker, who was damned lucky he hadn't moved a muscle, Blair slipped his free arm around Jim's body and tried to share his body warmth and his strength with his trembling partner. He wasn't surprised when Jim immediately sagged against him and the shaking escalated. Blair knew that Jim was going into shock from his shallow breathing, profuse sweating and shivering.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry," he muttered. "Where are you guys? Come on!" he ordered, urging the ambulance to arrive quickly. Holding his partner close, he spoke reassuringly, "I'm right here, Jim. You're going to be fine. I'll help you. That's it, keep the pressure nice and even. You're doing a great job."

Hearing the sirens of the police and ambulance grow closer, Blair turned his head toward Prospect. When he saw the emergency equipment screech to a halt at the mouth of the alley and pull equipment from the cabinets on the outside of the vehicle, he yelled, "Down here! Hurry!" Turning back to his partner, he said reassuringly, "Help's here. I love you." Holding his partner close, he silently prayed that Jim would be okay. Biting his lip, his arm tightened when Jim gave a final shudder before slipping into unconsciousness.

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Blair watched as Simon Banks strode into the ER waiting room and made a beeline for him.

"Sandburg?"

Blair rubbed the grit from his eyes. "Oh, hey, Captain."

"Don't 'hey, Captain' me, Detective! How is he?" Simon blustered.

Blair gave Simon a tired smile. "He's in Recovery right now. Thankfully the operation went smoothly. They repaired all of the muscles and tendons, sutured the artery, of course. The plastic surgeon said he should have minimal scarring. Luckily, they don't think there's any loss of movement in his fingers or hand."

"Good. Good." Simon clamped a hand on Blair's shoulder. "How you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine. At least I will be after I interrogate the bastard who did this to Jim."

"Already been done."

"Captain, that was my bust! You should have waited for me! At least you could have told me so I could have been there! Damn it anyway." Blair's eyes narrowed in frustration.

"I didn't think you'd be up to handling the guy." Simon clamped his lips together tightly.

Blair looked up into his captain's face, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Thanks a lot, Captain. Almost two years, and you still have no faith in my abilities." Blair turned away, but Simon's strong hand on his shoulder forestalled his retreat

"Sandburg, please. I'm sorry. I just thought... I didn't think, that's the problem. I had no right to step on your toes. I'm sorry," Simon said contritely.

Blair shoved his hands in his pockets and hung his head for a moment before he looked up to meet his boss's gaze. He straightened his shoulders and held up his head. "Okay. I accept your apology. I'd appreciate seeing a copy of the interrogation report as soon as it's available."

"Right. Besides, I have something I think you need to see. The investigation is yours, Detective. I won't get in your way unless you need my help."

"Thanks, sir. As soon as Jim's in his room, and I've seen him, I'll be back at the station. I need to go over that report as soon as possible."

"But don't you think you should go home and sleep? You've been here almost all night. And you need to change clothes."

"When I was on life support after being whacked out on Golden, did Jim go home and sleep? Hell, he was fucking blind and he continued on. When Oliver snatched Jim, did you or Joel sleep? There is no way I'm sleeping while this is unsolved. I want to know why this happened, and I want to know now." Blair met Simon's gaze with determination and conviction.

Simon held up a hand. "Slow down, Sandburg. I already said the investigation's yours. I'm going home to shower and grab a bite. I'll bring you something to eat and you can have breakfast in my office in, say," glancing at his watch, Simon calculated, "two hours? After you shower and change in the locker room. Deal?"

"I'll be there. Thank you, Simon. You're a good friend," Blair added with a small smile.

"Call me if you need anything." Simon gave Blair's shoulder another squeeze before he turned to leave. "Take care of Jim."

"I will," Blair said to Simon's retreating back. "Always," he added softly. Then he went to see if Jim had been moved to his own room yet.

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"Sit, Detective, and eat. Coffee?" Simon pushed the brown paper bag toward Blair.

"Yes, please." Blair tore into the bag.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to feed you? Anybody else would have been happy with half a dozen dough nuts, but you have to be conscientious about your body. You're damned fussy." Simon set a large mug of hot coffee next to Blair's elbow.

"Thanks, Simon," Blair said around the hard-boiled egg he had bitten into. "These are good," he added after eating a second egg and biting into the bagel spread with cream cheese. "I like egg salad, also," Blair added.

"I'll make a note, Blair," Simon said with a chuckle. "Next time, I'll bring egg salad. How's he doing?"

"Good, thank God. I was able to get him to open his eyes once but he's still really groggy from the meds. Hopefully, by this afternoon, he'll be awake." Pulling an orange from the bag, Blair peeled it quickly.

"That's good news." Simon pulled a green file folder from a pile on his desk. "This is what I wanted you to see." He pulled an item from the folder.

Blair nodded, popping an orange segment into his mouth. He swallowed a sip of coffee before wiping his fingers on a napkin. He took the plastic-bagged item from Simon's fingers. "It's Jim and a woman." Blair pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket and after adjusting them; he peered again at the photograph. "It's not a very good picture. Is that Carla Mills?"

"Yeah."

"And you found this on the guy who attacked Jim?"

"Gregory Mills."

Blair looked up from his examination of the photograph. "Brother?"

"Husband."

"I know Carla from here at work. She's been at the department for a long time. She and Jim were -- involved once, but that was years ago. Long before he met me. Before she married Mills and before Jim tied the knot with Carolyn." After staring at the photo for another moment, he asked, "Have you questioned her yet?"

"I'm leaving that to you, Detective."

"Some old jealousy? Some reason her husband would think Jim would be interested in her again? Why would he have an old picture and attack Jim?" Blair mused. "She here yet?"

"I spoke with Officer Mills myself. She'll be in within the next few minutes."

"So how do we play this? I think it might be better if I just talk to her first. Feel her out. See if I get any vibes."

"I don't know. If she's in with her old man, it could turn bad. I'd rather have it on the record."

After running a hand through his hair, Blair nodded. "Then I'll ask her to talk to me on the record. I'd rather not use an interrogation room, if it's okay with you."

"I want video and audio. When Officer Mills reports in, I'll have her escorted to the conference room on three."

"Okay." Blair rose and gathered the remains from his breakfast, tossing it into the nearest trashcan. "Thanks for the food, Simon. It hit the spot. I'm going to visit the men's room, call the hospital, and then I'm going to talk to Mills." Blair gathered up the file folder and dropped the photograph into it. "If she's part of this, I'll find out."

"Blair, you're taking this really well."

Blair paused, pleased that he was able to keep the aloofness he didn't feel in the least reflected on his face. But for Jim, he could play it cool. "No, I'm not, but I know the drill by now, Simon. No emotions, right?"

Simon nodded. "You're a good cop."

Pleased at the compliment, he gave Simon a nod. "Thanks. I had a good teacher," he said on his way out.

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When the door to the conference room behind him opened, Blair turned away from the window and walked toward the two officers.

"Good morning, Officer Mills," Blair said to the uniformed woman. To the second officer, he added, "Thanks, Officer George. Talk to you later."

The man nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Blair offered, pulling a chair away from the table.

"Thanks," Mills said, perching on the very edge of the chair. She cupped her hands around her knees and to Blair, it looked like she was trying not to fidget.

Blair closely examined Mills' body language. Although she tried to hide it, her nervousness and unhappiness radiated from every pore. "Coffee?" Blair asked politely.

Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, she nodded. "Please. Cream and sugar. Lots of sugar."

Mills' gaze darted around the room and when she saw the video camera mounted on the wall opposite the table, Blair saw her quickly look away, irritation on her face. Setting the coffee down in front of Mills, he said, "I'd like to talk to you about your husband, Gregory."

"This is being recorded," Mills stated.

"Yes," Blair said. "Does that bother you?"

"No. I guess not." Looking at Blair, her lips made a thin, tight line. "Should it?"

"Nope. Just asking."

Blair poured himself a cup of coffee and after setting it down on the table, he sat, slipped on his glasses, and opened the file folder that he had placed on the table earlier. He took a sip of coffee while he leafed through the papers, quickly re-reading the arrest report from last evening.

"So, Officer Mills, I'm sure Captain Banks informed you that your husband has been arrested for aggravated assault and attempted murder."

"Greg has a hot head but he's not a murderer."

"He's been arrested on two prior charges of assault. He plea-bargained out on probation on those charges because he didn't use a weapon. I see that he's been detained on three incidents of domestic violence." Blair intently scanned another paper in the file. "Why didn't you press charges?"

Mills' face turned white. "That's personal, Detective."

"It's a matter of record, Officer," Blair said, not unkindly. "You're a police officer. You know that somebody who hurts another person needs to be punished."

"You've never been married, have you, Detective?"

Shrugging, Blair smiled. "You've known me for what, six years? Call me Blair." He waited, wondering if she would extend the same friendly courtesy. When she merely waited for him to continue, he made a mental note that while Mills was being polite, Blair got the distinct feeling that she disliked him on a more personal than professional level. Interesting. After a few moment, he continued. "How close were you and James Ellison?"

"What? Why are you asking me that? Has something happened to Jim?" Mills' hand shook when she reached out for her coffee cup.

Their gazes met. She abruptly pulled back her hand and held it with her other one. Blair made another mental note: she knew that Blair knew she was nervous. What was she hiding?

"Tell me about you and Jim." Blair spoke calmly and did everything he could to radiate an aura of trust to the woman, whom he could see was growing more upset by the minute. "Please." He glanced up and saw the red blinking light of the video camera. Sitting forward and resting on his elbows on his knees, he said, "Were you and Jim close?"

Mills nodded. "For a while, long ago, but now...." She shrugged. "Not very close. It was before Carolyn Plummer. I thought..."

"You thought what?" he prompted gently.

"That we had something going. Then she moved in, and he wasn't interested any more." Mills practically spat out the word, her distaste at Plummer evident.

"That must have been rough."

Feigning nonchalance, Mills shrugged. "You win some. You lose some."

"That's very -- mature of you. Then they divorced."

"When they split up, I thought I might have another chance. We went out a few times after the divorce. Had a good time, I thought. I understand what being a cop's wife is all about. Plummer didn't. After all, she wasn't on the street like I was."

"Yeah, it helps to have an understanding partner. So then what happened?"

"Happened?"

"Yes. Between you and Jim."

"Nothing happened. Jim and I have had lunch off and on over the years." Mills fiddled with the coffee cup, spilling several drops on the smooth wooden table. "In fact, Jim took me to lunch about three months ago. We had a good time. He was very nice to me."

"Jim thinks of you as a friend. He treats his friends well." Blair resisted the urge to fidget. Everything screamed to him that she had something to do with Jim's attack, and her innocent, wide-eyed demeanor was starting to bother him. "So where did Greg find this?" Blair slid the photograph of Mills and Jim across the desk.

Leaning forward, Mills looked intently at the snapshot. "Oh, that old thing. I thought I'd thrown that away." Sitting up, she said, "That was taken at the annual policemen's picnic almost eight years ago. I don't know where Greg found that." Running her finger through the coffee spill on the table, Carla asked, "Has something happened to Jim?"

Wishing he had his Sentinel's ability to listen to the woman's heart rate and respiration, Blair relied on his own people instincts. Watching Mills' face closely, he said, "Yes. He was attacked last night. He's going to be okay, though, but he had to have emergency surgery."

While her face showed her unhappiness at the news, she didn't seem surprised. "Oh, my God! That's awful. I need to go and visit him. I'll stop by on my way home. The poor guy!"

*Yeah, right. Real concern,* Blair thought sarcastically, but he said, "Ah, I don't think that would be such a good idea today. He's really out of it, but I'll tell him you asked about him."

When Carla's eyes narrowed quickly, Blair realized that she did, indeed, know about his relationship with Jim. Giving Blair what looked like a false smile, she said, "Okay, thanks. But you'll let me know when he's up for visitors? I'll bring him some of those buttermilk dough nuts he likes so much. Are we finished?"

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll talk to you later."

"Tell Jim I'm sorry he's hurt, and I'll see him soon."

Blair sat back in his chair and watched the woman's face while she rose. She was lying through her teeth. "Sure. Will do. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

Nodding, Mills quickly left, leaving Blair to fiddle with the photograph and to think about his next step.

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"Mr. Mills, I'm Detective Blair Sandburg." Blair carried a cold can of soda into the interrogation room and set it down in front of the man sitting at the table. "I brought you something to drink."

"Why?" Mills growled.

"Why what? Why are you here or why did I bring you something to drink?"

"I know why I'm here, asshole."

"Okay, then, let's get down to business." Blair pulled the much-displayed photograph from the folder he carried. "Tell me about this." Blair planted the picture on the table in front of Mills.

"What's to tell? My old lady was fucking around on me. I handled it." Mills seemed quite pleased with himself.

"So your wife and Detective Ellison are what exactly?"

"Is there something in the word 'fucking' that you don't understand?" Mills said smartly. "Seems pretty clear from my end."

"Where did you find the picture?"

Sighing, Mills popped open the soda can. "In my wife's underwear drawer."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"What are you, a fucking psychiatrist? It made me feel like shit, you prick!"

Blair ignored the man's belligerent attitude and kept his tone even. "So you're admitting to attacking Detective Ellison?"

Mills rolled his eyes. "You aren't one of the smart ones, are you? I "confessed" hours ago." Mills made the quotation marks in the air with thick fingers. "Aren't you the dick head who arrested me? Man, you're really not too smart," he repeated.

"No, not too. Hey, I was just wondering," Blair mused out loud, "when this picture was taken?"

"Carla said it was from last month, the stupid bitch. I had to use all of my ah, charms before she finally admitted that her and that bastard were at it again."

Blair swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain aloof from Mills' arrogance and idiocy. The feral grin Mills gave Blair when he said "charms" made his stomach churn. His Guide instincts to protect his Sentinel made him wish he could pound the man into a bloody pulp, but he remained in control, surprised that he was able to carry on the questioning with such a 'detached' feeling.

"So let me get this straight. Your wife and Detective Ellison were having an affair as recently as last week?"

"Yeah. That's what I said. Clean your ears out, Detective." He said Blair's title derisively.

"Did you slash the tires on Detective Ellison's truck?"

To Blair, Mills looked genuinely confused when he said, "What? Hell no! Don't pin any shit on me that I didn't do. I'm not some stupid kid going around slashing tires."

"What about Detective Ellison's apartment? Are you responsible for the vandalism?"

Starting to rise, Mills growled, "Hey, what is this? Some big set up? I'm not going down for any crap that I didn't do!"

"Sit down." When Mills seemed to balk, Blair gave him an ingratiating smile. "Please. Nobody wants you to do time for something you didn't do, least of all me."

Mill's glared at Blair for a moment, before he nodded. "Okay." Mills sat. For a few minutes, he played with the half-empty soda can before he muttered, "I had the right to defend what's mine, but I didn't fuck around with that bastard's stuff."

"Okay. I believe you," Blair said honestly. "Thanks for your cooperation."

"You going to talk to the DA for me like you said?"

"I'll explain that you cooperated."

"Gee, thanks. That sounds real sincere." Mills rolled his eyes.

Blair rose. "I said I'd talk to him and I will. I don't go back on my word."

Eying Blair carefully, Mills finally nodded, seeming to accept Blair's sincerity. "Yeah, right. Thanks."

Blair gave Mills a tired look before he left. Leaning against the wall outside the interrogation room, he rubbed his eyes with his hands and sighed.

"Good work, Sandburg." Walking down the hall toward Blair, Simon clamped the cigar between his teeth.

"Thanks, Captain. You heard?"

"Yes, Detective, I heard. So you think Officer Mills used her old man to do her dirty work?"

Blair picked at a fingernail. "Yeah. I think she did the vandalism herself, but she wanted something more. I noticed when I was talking to her that she had on a lot of make-up. I think Mills smacked her around and she finally got fed up with it."

Simon chewed his cigar thoughtfully. "What's the payoff? Get her husband sent to jail?"

"It could be that she was out for revenge against both her husband and Jim. This way she kills two birds with one stone. See, I figure what she thought was that if Mills hurt or killed Jim, he would go to prison for a long time. She's rid of him. If Jim had been able to defend himself and took Mills down, the husband still either goes to prison or Jim kills him in self-defense." Blair looked thoughtful for a moment before he added, "If Mills killed Jim in the alley, there was always the possibility that I'd catch him, like I did. If Mills resisted, I'd shoot him. He's dead or in jail either way. She gets rid of the husband. Don't forget, she also gets even with Jim for not wanting her as a wife or lover."

"Blair?" Simon's gaze held Blair's.

"What?"

"Would you have shot Mills if he had been able to -- if he had been successful?"

"That's hypothetical, Captain. What do you want me to say?" Blair pushed himself away from the wall and looked intently at his boss. Very quietly, Blair said, "Hypothetically, Captain, I'd have blown his fucking head off." He turned and walked away, leaving Simon with his mouth hanging open in surprise, he was sure. He didn't bother looking back.

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The first thing Blair noticed when he walked into Jim's hospital room was the beautiful bouquet of fresh purple hyacinths. He stared at the flowers for a few moments before he pulled the card out, even though he already knew who had sent them. Naomi, of course. Only she would send a flower that delivered a specific message. Blair remembered her many little talks about flowers and their meanings from when he was about ten and Naomi had worked one summer arranging flowers in a friend's green house. Purple hyacinths meant 'please forgive me'. Seeing his mother's name scrawled across the card made Blair close his eyes and hold his breath for a moment. He crumpled the card in his fist before Jim's voice broke his reverie.

"Chief?" Jim whispered sleepily.

"Jim!" Blair quickly moved to his lover's side. Carefully hitching a hip onto the side of the bed, he smiled warmly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"I'll bet." Blair looked Jim over carefully. His hair was mussed and stood in little peaks from rubbing against the pillow. His face was pale and his eyes were clouded with the painkiller that his doctor was carefully administering. His lips were dry and he licked them several times.

"Here's some water," Blair said, filling a glass and slipping in a straw. He held the glass and put the straw to Jim's lips. Jim drank the entire glass. "You want more?"

"No, that's good. Thanks." Jim closed his eyes and sighed. "What happened?"

Blair examined Jim's injured arm that rested on a pillow. It was wrapped in gauze from his knuckles to a couple of inches above his elbow.

"You don't remember?"

"It's kind of fuzzy. My arm hurts," Jim said tiredly.

"I know, my love," Blair said softly, rubbing Jim's uninjured arm. "You're going to be okay."

"Blair?" Jim opened his eyes. He looked around and seemed confused for a moment.

Putting a hand on the side of Jim's face, Blair smiled. "Hey, I'm right here. Want me to hold your hand?"

Jim tried to smile. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

Jim managed to raise his uninjured hand up from the bed. Blair slipped his own hand under his. He wrapped his other hand around Jim's fingers, carefully avoiding the IV needle that was securely taped into the back of Jim's hand.

"Can you feel me holding your hand?" Blair asked.

Jim's forehead furrowed. "I feel really funny." He considered for another moment before he said, "I can feel you holding my hand. Weird. I had to actually think about it." Sighing, Jim's eyes closed.

"You still have some of the anesthetic from surgery in your system. You'll be thinking more clearly when it wears off. Plus the doctor's giving you a mild painkiller, but you'll be fine. I'll take care of you."

"Okay," Jim said trustingly. "Blair?"

"Yeah?" Moving one of his hands to Jim's head, Blair petted the soft brown hair lightly before running the backs of his fingers down the side of Jim's face, making Jim sigh again and lean into his lover's touch. "What is it? Do you need anything?"

"Only you." Jim's words were a bit slurred as he drifted into sleep, but Blair understood.

"Love you, Jim." Blair leaned over and kissed his lover's forehead. Very gently, he moved his hand and settled Jim's on the bed with care. Pulling a chair close to the bed, he sat down, crossed his arms, put his head down on them and fell asleep also.

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A hand on Blair's shoulder woke him several hours later.

"Detective?"

Blair blinked sleepily and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah?" he asked, looking up at the nurse.

"You have a phone call at the nurses' station. It's your captain." She gave Blair a warm smile. "I know you're worried but he's doing well," she said, nodding toward Jim. "Dr. Roberts will be in shortly to check on him. He's making his rounds now."

"Okay. Thanks." Blair rose and stretched. He gave his lover the once-over and was pleased that Jim's color was a little better. He'd be a lot happier when Jim was fully awake and out of pain, but for now, he was happy with his partner's condition. He touched Jim's arm lightly before heading out to answer the telephone.

"Hi, Simon."

"Sandburg. We have enough from Greg Mills to officially bring in Carla Mills. Do you want to run the interrogation?"

"Yeah, I think I should. If she's out to get Jim, she might open up for me."

"Why's that? You're the competition, so to speak. You know she must know about you and Jim."

"I realize that, but you've heard the old adage about a woman scorned? I think she'd like to brag and maybe stick in the knife and twist it around. Metaphorically, you know." Blair rubbed the sleep sand out of one eye and then unsuccessfully tried to smooth his unruly hair.

"Can you be here in an hour?"

"Yes. I'll tell Jim I'm leaving and see you in an hour."

"How's he doing this morning?"

"He's still asleep but at least he's not restless. I think he'll be okay but he's got some recovery time to put in."

"Tell him I said to get his ass out of bed and back to work."

Blair chuckled softly. "Okay, Simon. I'll tell him. Bye."

"Take it easy," Simon said before disconnecting.

"Will do," Blair said, hanging up the receive