By the time he finished telling Jim everything he could remember from his trip, it was nearly midnight.
"Well, Chief, I'm gonna call it a night."
Blair stood, easing his feet out from a position they'd fallen asleep in hours ago. "What about Jenkins and Brown?"
"They're on the job, partner, they'll be fine." Jim headed for the bathroom, shrugging.
"Yeah." Blair started for his room, pulling off his shirt as he went. "I tell ya, Jim, next time Dr. Stoddard is in the States, you've got to meet him." He tossed the shirt to his bed and began to unbutton his jeans, turning to face Jim, who was walking out of the bathroom.
"Why, so you can show me off ?" Jim tossed his hand towel at Blair with a mischievous grin, hitting him in the face.
"You wish." Blair rolled his eyes at his partner's teasing mood, then tossed the towel back. "Of course I want to show you off, man. Come on, you're the embodiment of my life's work. I want every researcher I know or ever thought of knowing to know you're for real." Jim opened his mouth to protest and Blair raised a hand, stopping him before he could start. "I know, I know, not until you say so. Trust me, Jim, other than Lee Brackett, the only people even reading my papers are the boring academic types who wouldn't know a crime if they saw one."
"Let's hope they don't." Jim carried the towel back to the bathroom, then headed for his stairs. "We're going in tomorrow, so set the alarm."
"Goodnight, Jim."
"Stop worrying, Chief," Jim called from the stairs.
Blair laughed shortly. "No promises, man." he whispered.
Part 3
* * *
Jim shed his clothes and slid into bed. Blair's confession, as mild as it had been, served to both warm and surprise him. For some time, Jim had been aware of Dr. Eli Stoddard's influence and effect on Blair, and for some time he'd realized his own jealousy over the closeness his friend shared with his first mentor. A closeness that nearly cost Jim his partner once, when old loyalties called. But he had also begun to realize, over time and with a few hints from Blair, that Jim now held a higher place in the younger man's life. Hearing him reiterate that, in his own uncomfortable way, felt good. Making him squirm a bit to voice that feeling had been a small bonus.
Blair's anxiety about the upcoming trial was a bit overblown, even for the kid. But, Jim decided it could just be the fact that he hadn't been around this case from the beginning. He always worried about things he wasn't a part of that would affect Jim. It was a nice feeling, in a way, knowing how concerned his partner was with everything going on. With a sigh, he closed tired eyes and pressed his head into the pillow. Slowly, he let his senses feel around the loft, taking note first of the quiet breathing in the room below. After assuring himself the loft was secure, Jim let his mind begin to drift into sleep, trusting his instincts, Sentinel senses, and the two detectives outside to keep things quiet.
* * *
"Ow!"
Jim shot out of bed so fast, he barely registered the reason for it. "Blair?!"
"Yeah?"
"Are you all right?" Quickly adjusting his hearing back to a more manageable level, Jim realized his friend's simple exclamation had been magnified by alert Sentinel hearing.
"Yeah, just cut myself."
Jim's momentum had carried him halfway to the living room before he stopped, now hearing the water running down the hall. As he walked down the rest of the stairs, Blair came out of the bathroom, dressed only in jeans, dabbing at his chin with the corner of a towel.
"Hey, how do you feel about blueberry pancakes?"
The mere word brought instant salivary recall. "Oh, yeah. Are you cooking?"
Blair glanced at the towel in his hand, then gave Jim a smirk. "Of course I am."
"Great." Smiling, Jim passed his partner in the hall, giving him a friendly swat on the back of the head as he entered the bathroom.
"What do you think about inviting Jenkins and Brown in for breakfast?"
"I think if you're trying to score points, that'll do it." Jim reached around to shut the bathroom door. "Call Brown's cell phone, the number's in my book."
"Okay."
Jim washed up, then turned on the shower and stepped inside. He could hear Blair in the kitchen, first calling the two Detectives who had just spent an entire night watching over them in for breakfast, then moving around in the kitchen. It wasn't like Blair to worry, but when it came to Jim's safety, the kid did lean severely toward caution. Some might say Blair was protecting his interests, but Jim knew better. And he was flattered.
As he stepped out of the shower, he recognized his bathrobe hanging on the inside of the door. Reaching for it, he heard Brown laughing in the living room.
"Hey, guys."
"Jim, thanks for the invite, man." Brown waved his coffee cup in the direction of his partner. "I was just getting ready to send Jenkins out for doughnuts."
"Don't thank me, it was Sandburg's idea." Jim tied his robe on the way to the stairs. "If it were up to me, you'd be eating stale doughnuts and downing cold coffee." He laughed at the looks directed his way for the teasing, then went upstairs.
"Hey, man, we were just doin' our job," Brown retorted.
"I'm not complaining." Jim pulled on his shorts, directing his voice downstairs. "The Captain's idea, or Milton's?"
"Both, I think," Jenkins replied.
"Okay, guys, breakfast is ready."
At Blair's announcement, Jim hurried with his shirt and pants, rushing down the stairs to ensure his guests didn't get all the blueberries. With some foresight, and no small bit of talent, Blair had made plenty, ensuring they all had a pleasant morning.
After eating, both Jenkins and Brown were off duty and headed home, while Blair and Jim went in to the Station. The flavor of blueberries lingered in Jim's mouth from the few bits still trapped between two molars. As he headed to the bathroom with the floss kept in his desk, Blair hung their coats on the stand and pulled his chair up to Jim's computer.
"Ellison, quiet night, I trust?"
"As quiet as it could be, with Jenkins and Brown talking outside all night." Jim turned on the tap and leaned forward, wrapping floss around two fingers while Simon washed his hands in the sink beside him.
"You mean they were in the apartment with you?"
Jim shook his head, but had to wait until he'd spat out the blueberry bit. "No, I just checked up on them once or twice."
Simon squinted his eyes, then suddenly nodded in understanding. "Right, I keep forgetting." He dried his hands and tossed the paper towel in the trash. "I want to go over this trial with you in my office before you head over to the courthouse. The DA wants you over there at ten."
"Yes, sir." Jim followed Simon back out to the bullpen and found Blair staring at the computer, a look of intent concentration on his face. Sitting in his own chair that had been pushed slightly aside to make room, Jim glanced at the screen.
"I had no idea this Burgini family was responsible for so many deaths." Blair shook his head, still gazing at the screen.
"They had a pretty successful protection racket going for many years." Jim glanced at his coffee cup, asking himself if another cup would be too many this early.
"Man, you were undercover on this one for five months?" Blair sat back, pulling the glasses off his face as he looked at Jim.
"Off and on. This bust was a group effort. Lots of people put a lot of time and effort into this one, including the DA's office."
Blair nodded, glancing at the desk in thought. "Do you think it will end now, or will the rest of the family just start over?"
Jim shrugged, pushing aside his cup so he could open a file. "Hard to say, Chief. The rest of the family seems to be setting up shop on the East Coast. If they do start up, they're someone else's problem. Every city has its share."
"Ellison!"
Jim glanced up, seeing the Captain's face poking out of his office door accompanied by a small cloud of white smoke. With an acknowledging nod, Jim stood and looked back at
Blair. He expected his partner to get up, and follow him as he always did, but instead, Blair was again studying the computer screen.
"Yes, sir?" Jim shut the office door behind him and walked up to the Captain's desk.
"Looks like this trial might come off without a hitch after all." Simon waved a cigar-laden hand at the chair beside Jim. "The FBI's been keeping close tabs on all the other family members, and so far they're all still on the East Coast. In fact, they seem to have all relocated there permanently."
"Someone else's problem." Jim nodded.
"What's that?"
"Something Blair and I were saying about the rest of the Burgini family starting over, becoming someone else's problem."
"He wasn't here during this case, was he?" Simon started to grin, then continued before Jim could reply. "I bet it's just killin' him, not to be a part of it."
Ignoring that remark, Jim shrugged. "Actually he's a little nervous about it all."
"That's nothing new," Simon snorted.
Jim shook his head. "No, actually Simon, it is. Blair isn't usually afraid of things. He's cautious, sometimes." Just not usually when I want him to be. He spared a glance out to the bullpen, where his friend still sat, staring at the computer. "No, he's not acting normal somehow."
"Tell me, Jim, what IS normal for Sandburg?"
It took a moment for Simon's question to hit home. Jim was trying to answer it for himself first. "Normal is right now." He nodded to his partner, studying the computer. "Investigating whatever it is he doesn't already know."
"So what's the problem?"
Jim shook his head, then tried to shake off the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. "Nothing." Or something. He knew better than to ignore his own instincts, but Blair's behavior really wasn't odd enough to raise any tangible alarms. Not yet, anyway.
A puff of cigar smoke accompanied the Captain's nod. "Oh, before I forget, the kid got some mail delivered here again." Simon reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a postcard. "The mailroom's tired of looking for a place to put it, so they're stuffing it all in my box."
Jim accepted the postcard with a shake of his head, but before he could reply the phone on the desk rang. He turned to glance into the bullpen and heard the phone on his own desk ring. Ignoring Simon's call, he focused on the one his partner picked up.
"Yeah, Major Crimes."
"I'm looking for a Mr. Sandburg."
"Speaking."
"Can you give me directions to 7th and Vine?"
"What?!"
Simon's sudden exclamation drew Jim's attention back into the office.
"All right, we'll come over now. Keep everyone together until we get there." Simon hung up the phone and looked at Jim. "The DA's assistant was killed this morning."
"Marsha? What happened?" Jim stepped closer to the desk, all curiosity over Blair's phone call vanished.
"Her husband shot her as she was leaving the house."
"Her husband?" Jim's mind flashed through his meetings with the young woman, trying to determine if he'd ever met her husband. He hadn't. "Was it a domestic dispute?"
Simon was walked around his desk, shaking his head, his face a mask of anger and frustration. "There's no word yet. Here." He reached around the side of a bookcase and pulled out a kevlar vest. "We're heading over to the courthouse. Put this on."
"Simon..."
"Put it on!"
Jim accepted the vest being shoved at him.
"Right now, I have to assume this is an attack on anyone connected to this trial. And until I hear otherwise, no one is taking chances."
Simon glared at him until he put the vest on, leaving it unfastened for now. "Yes, sir. What about Milton and the jury?" Jim glanced out at Blair, who was still on the phone.
"They're being escorted to the courtroom now, that's where we're going. I'll send Clark and Carpenter out on this shooting."
Jim wanted to listen in on the conversation causing Blair to crease his eyebrows so darkly, but the Captain was still talking and the vest kept slipping down. "Looks like the FBI missed one, huh?"
"These mob families can be so large and spread out, it's a wonder we've located as many as we have." Simon checked his gun, then looked at Jim. "Sandburg should stay here, he was never a part of this case."
Jim looked at his partner again. Blair had just hung up the phone and was reaching into Jim's desk drawer. "I agree with you there. Better let me tell him."
"I have to make a call, I'll meet you out there."
As Jim left the office, he glanced at the postcard in his hand. "What the hell?" With a flash of understanding, the pieces began to suddenly make sense. At the same instant he registered the sight of Blair aiming the gun, the bullet slammed into him like a cannon.
* * *
Pain. Pain and darkness were all Jim knew for the longest time. But the fear soon penetrated his fog, screaming at him from afar that he had to wake up, he had to get up. Blair was in trouble! How or why, Jim didn't know. All he knew was an intense pain in his chest, and a feeling of terror building in his gut that something terribly wrong was happening to Blair.
The pain he could fight, somehow, but the fear he needed to use to urge his mind out of the darkness. His partner was in danger, how could he be sleeping? Blair! Only his mind heard the cry, so he must still be asleep. Another stab of pain in the right side of his chest brought him closer. Close enough now to hear voices, feel hands touching him. With a force of will, he recognized one voice.
It wasn't Blair.
"Sandburg!" Jim's mind snapped awake, but his body refused to follow the order to get up.
"Jim!" Simon filled his still-blurred line of sight. "Take it easy, let the doctor finish."
"Where's Blair?" Frantically blinking away the fog, Jim scanned the exam room, finding only Simon, a nurse and a man in a lab coat standing over him, bandage scissors in hand.
"Detective, hold still, I'm almost finished here."
With one more snip, Jim felt the doctor's hand smoothing down the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest.
"Simon, where's Sandburg?" Why wasn't he there? What weren't they telling him?
"Jim, it's pretty complicated. Just let the doctor finish."
Anger took over, forcing the pain to the back of his mind. "Simon!"
"Detective, you've been shot." With some force, the doctor pressed Jim back down onto the examination bed. "Your friend is going to be all right, and so are you if you'll just lie still and let me do my work."
Frustrated, Jim lay back, glaring up at the young man putting more tape on the front of his ribs, adding to what was already pressing heavily from the back. The doctor couldn't have been much older than Blair, probably an intern. The resemblance to a young, lab-coated man with long hair and way too much enthusiasm was uncanny.
"Your friend is fine, I assure you."
"Where is he?"
"In the next room. Now, you've taken a solid hit to the chest, but thanks to that vest you sustained only two bruised ribs."
The doctor's words meant nothing. Jim could feel the bruising of his own ribs, he could tell he was alive, what more did they need to know? He tried to force his hearing out of the room to search the rest of the exam areas for Blair, but all he could manage was magnifying the sounds in his own room. The doctor's voice, Simon's frustrated sighs, the nurse's slightly increased heart rate as she checked his pulse, which also seemed to ring in his ears. Nothing he did was working, he couldn't get out of the room, couldn't control his senses or direct them.
"...rest for a few days, and you'll be fine."
Finally, the doctor stepped aside. Jim registered his words again. Nodding, he looked over at Simon. "What happened? Where's Blair?"
Simon sighed heavily, then stepped closer as Jim slowly raised himself to a sitting position. "Jim, Sandburg shot you. Everyone in the bullpen was pretty stunned, and Carpenter just reacted with instinct."
Ice ran through Jim's gut, forcing his jaw tightly shut. Una
ble to open it, he stared at the Captain, demanding an explanation.
"He's okay, Jim." Simon held up both hands, either warding off an expected verbal attack, or protecting himself from it.
"I want to see him." When Simon paused, Jim turned to the doctor. "Where is he?"
"I'll take you to him, if you like," the too young doctor replied, reaching out a helping hand. "His concussion was pretty mild. Either the officer who shot him was very good, or Mr. Sandburg was very lucky."
"Jim, hold on just a minute." Simon placed a hand on Jim's shoulder, then looked at the doctor. "Can we have a moment, please?"
"Certainly. He's just down the hall to your left." With that, the doctor and nurse exited, leaving Jim and Simon alone.
"Simon--"
"Jim, there's the little matter of what happened we have to deal with."
Jim's jaw flexed again, and he gave up trying to find Blair from his room. It just wasn't working. "I think I know what happened."
"Sandburg shot you. Right there in the Station. It was purposeful and calculated, Jim."
Shaking his head, Jim tried to relax his jaw. "No, Simon, it wasn't Blair. It was Giovanni."
"What?"
Jim pushed past the Captain. "I want to see him."
"Wait a minute, Jim." Simon's hand clutched Jim's arm, holding him firmly. "I want some explanations here."
"After I see Sandburg, Captain." Jim pulled away, expecting a reprimand that he wasn't the least bit afraid of ignoring.
"Ellison!"
Simon's shout traveled through the open door, following Jim two doors down. In the hallway, he finally picked up Blair's voice, thanking someone for something. The relief was almost tangible. As the last vestiges of fear sank through his feet, his legs were able to slow down, giving him enough time to walk through the door of the exam room with some small display of control. Inside, he found his partner sitting up, a bandage on his right temple nearly covered by long, dark strands of hair. The eyes that met his were desperately confused.
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