The Dancing

by Kristine Williams

  Jim replied with a smile and slight shrug. "You would have done the same for me, if the situation was reversed."

  "No, that's the main difference between us." Blair laughed shortly, feeling a huge release. "You see, I never would have let you get this far away without me in the first place."

  Laughing, Jim reached out and grabbed a handful of Blair's hair, then gave his head a gentle shake. "I know." He let go, then smoothed the long strands back into place. "So, since you're obviously not tired, show me what you're all excited about here."

  "Oh, right." Blair turned back to his notes and shuffled several of them around while Jim leaned down, resting his palms on the desk to see what was there. "You said you thought you detected a pattern, right?" Man, he felt totally drained! And completely relieved.

  "Well, sort of, yeah. It was like--some kind of rhythm or something."

  "Okay. What I was thinking, and this might be total bull, but since bats do in a fashion have a language, and they were hitting you with short bursts of sonar as they navigated their way out of the cave..." This is going to sound so lame. "I don't think you were detecting any kind of language, but what I do think - and you'll have to bear with me on this - what I think, is that your Sentinel instincts look for a pattern, or language, in everything they experience."

  Jim pursed his lips, then one eyebrow arched up and he looked at Blair. "What do you mean? Everything I hear and see is some kind of language?"

  "Not exactly." Blair pushed some hair out of his eye and tried again. "Sentinels were used for many things, and weather changes were one thing they kept an eye on, so to speak." He paused and Jim nodded his understanding so far. "Okay, I've always assumed that to sense changes in weather, the Sentinel learned how to feel the change in barometric pressure and wind direction. Probably temperature drops too." Jim nodded again, looking at Blair. "But I couldn't figure out how they could tell the difference between a simple shower or quick squall, and a serious storm that could spell trouble. So, after what you said, I started thinking that maybe - just maybe - there's a pattern in the airflow. You know, like a language of sonar or air pressure spoken by the storm itself." Oh yeah, that sounded just about as stupid as it could.

  "A language spoken by a storm? Sandburg, you need some sleep." Jim rested a hand on Blair's shoulder, ready to propel him toward the cot next to his desk.

  "No, no, no, bear with me here, Jim. I know that sounds strange, and it's not exactly what I mean." Trying to explain a theory before giving it plenty of study always sounded half baked. "I have to figure this out first, but in a way, I think your Sentinel senses actually work in some ways by trying to interpret a language out of any sensation it experiences. And I don't mean a language like you and I know one."

  "Well, right now, you might as well be speaking French, Chief."

  "I mean a language in the sense that it would be something repeated the next time this same situation occurs, and it would be recognized. That way, your Sentinel instincts build on your experiences, making them not only stronger but quicker to recognize something." Jim still didn't look convinced, and Blair could feel the last of his own energy beginning to cloud his speech. "What I mean is, only you were sensitive enough to even imagine there was a pattern to what you felt. I think the Sentinel part of you was looking for a pattern, instinctively."

  "I think it's well past your bedtime." Jim reached out and took Blair by the arms, lifting him off the chair.

  "Jim, there's time for sleep on the flight back. I need to get these thoughts down while they're still fresh." He wanted to resist, he really did. But while he was still telling his body to sit back down, Jim was setting him on the cot and pulling off his shoes.

  "Sandburg, I think unless you get some sleep, you're not going to have another thought to write down." He pulled off Blair's socks then reached up and easily pulled the shirt over his head. "It's not like either of us is going to forget what happened today."

  Blair opened his mouth to protest, but a yawn consumed his words. When he finished, Jim pushed him back onto the cot. Now that he was lying down, he had to fight off the sleep that was demanding a full and complete takeover long enough to unzip his jeans and begin to squirm out of them. He must have been successful, since they were off when the sun broke through the open tent flap a hundred years later.

  He could hear Jim's voice, just outside the tent, talking conversationally with someone. The sun hitting his back began to massage his skin as it brought the jungle out of its evening cool, giving Blair little reason to get out of bed. But he knew he should. There were only two more days left in this visit, then he and Jim would have to make the trek back down the river and home.

  With some effort, Blair dragged himself out of bed. He knew after a wash he'd feel much more awake and back to his old enthusiastic self. After all they discovered yesterday there were still the details to work out. And details were something he loved. Just outside the tent he found Jim talking with Kathryn and Craig.

  "When did you get back?"

  "Sometime late last night." Kathryn shrugged, then pointed to one of Blair's reproduced drawings. "Looks like we missed all the fun." Her face was lit with excitement, as was Craig's as he too pointed to a sheet of the copied figures.

  "This is incredible, Blair! It could mean the difference between one year's extension and several. We could be out here for years working on this!"

  "Jim was just telling us where you found them. Dr. Stoddard's already getting some equipment together."

  "I didn't find them, Jim did," Blair hastily interjected. They knew about Jim's Sentinel sense of sight, although he had stopped short of telling them that his friend was the real thing. Blair had only told Eli, though he wasn't sure why. "And you're going to need something better than a flashlight to see through that muck."

  "I talked to Dr. Stoddard this morning." Jim nodded toward the larger tent. "And, I said we'd be happy to show him where those drawings are."

  "Yeah, if you don't mind going back to the caves again today." Blair tossed his towel over one shoulder and rubbed some sleep out of his eyes.

  "I think I could stand it, Chief." Jim draped an arm around Blair's neck and pulled him off balance for an instant. "I wouldn't mind seeing those bats again."

  Kathryn gave an exaggerated shudder. "I guess I'll have to put up with those things again."

  "You don't like bats?"

  Blair turned and walked to the river for a shower, leaving Jim and Kathryn discussing rodent likes and dislikes. The whole camp seemed charged with a new discovery, and what it meant for the group's future. But for him, the future held an entirely different meaning now.

  It was amazing how one simple misunderstanding or unspoken belief could crumble entire worlds. So many times, you assumed your intentions were understood and lived your life accordingly. But every now and again, you got a curve ball thrown at you from out of the clear blue sky. If you were good, you caught it. If you were lucky, it bounced off your chin then into the mitt.

  Blair had been lucky for quite a while. All this time, assuming Jim understood something he'd never actually come out and said. Of course he had reason to believe his partner might skip out at the first sign of a second chance. Why wouldn't he? It wasn't that long ago that he'd jumped with childlike excitement with Eli's first offer. What a fool he'd been then! To proudly announce how ready and willing he was to abandon Jim and their Sentinel work, and then hope that his friend would give him some kind of blessing, and say he could wait until Blair came back. Right. The guy who is so willing to give up his God-given gift, was going to just put it all on hold and wait for Blair to get back? He knew how stupid that was soon after he'd said it.

  Yet it was Jim's instant reaction--his need to end everything they had immediately upon sensing Blair's lack of commitment--that brought his new goals into view. Like they say, you never really know what you have until you lose it. Well, he'd been damn lucky not to get that far. But he had to admit, until now, he hadn't really giv
en Jim any concrete proof that he had changed.

  Sure, he told him he was staying out of friendship. But then there was that stupid, out of control conversation the night Incacha had come. He'd been hit with too much, all at once. Jim's Sentinel senses going away, the fear that he'd be sent away from the Station because of it, then admitting that he really was stalling. All of that had triggered defenses in Blair. Defenses that sent up a wall and deflected the one straight question that could have cleared it all up with a stupid line about the excitement of police work.

  Police work! Like that held any attraction. God, that was stupid! Instead of explaining to Jim how he felt now about the Sentinel study, their friendship, his future, he'd given his partner yet another reason to think he was there for other things.

  Part 6

  * * *

  "Sandburg, you gonna take all morning or what?"

  Startled, Blair opened his eyes, blinking away the last of the water showering down on his head. "Oh, sorry. I'm done." He caught the towel Jim tossed him and started to dry off before stepping out of the small enclosure. "You know, Jim, Eli will put your name on the paper when he publishes these new drawings."

  Jim grinned, cocking his head to one side as he considered that. "Yeah? So I suppose this will bring me as much fame and wealth as it has you?"

  Blair wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower. "Hey, it may not exactly be coffee table reading, but among specific circles, these things do mean something." He followed Jim back to their tent to get dressed.

  "I know, Chief. Eli showed me some of your publications the other night."

  "He did?" Quickly, Blair tried to recall everything he'd ever published, trying to judge what Jim's reaction might be to each. They weren't things he would ever expect anyone outside his academic circle to ever encounter. "So, what did you think?" He pulled on a pair of jeans.

  "I was impressed." Jim shrugged matter-of-factly. "I can't say I understood much of it, but I was impressed."

  "Really?" He had to be just saying that. But Jim never just said things he didn't mean.

  "Yeah. I was."

  Blair pulled a T-shirt over his head, then looked at Jim. "Thanks, Jim. That means a lot."

  The look he got in return was one of puzzlement, then acceptance. "You're welcome." Jim tossed over a new flashlight. "Now, let's get back to those caves, huh?"

  Nodding, Blair clipped the light to his belt and headed out of the tent.

  "Just do me a favor, Chief." Jim stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "If we stay till dark, don't let me stand there with my mouth hanging open for an hour, okay? It could get a little embarrassing."

  "Sure, Jim." Blair laughed and patted Jim's arm as he started through the tent flap. "Maybe just a half hour, though. What do you think?"

  "Sandburg!"

  * * *

  It was tempting, even just to witness such a complete and total zoneout for so long. But Blair kept Jim's attention throughout the experience. The group spent one entire day documenting the new drawings and comparing them to the ones found in the other caves while Jim and Blair scouted around more thoroughly for more. They found three submerged groups in a second cave, and helped sketch them out when lights became few. That night, Dr. Stoddard and Craig remained in the caves, discussing the likelihood of more drawings, while Kathryn and the rest of the group that had joined them stayed above, not wanting to be that close to the bats.

  Blair kept Jim talking this time, preventing any complete loss of awareness around him. The next day the party returned with more lights, notebooks and enthusiasm than the day before. Jim seemed to enjoy watching them all work, but Blair suspected he was just being tolerant of something he simply didn't share the excitement about. Every now and again, Blair found himself babbling on about this or that figure they had found, and what it meant. Each time he caught himself, he found Jim simply listening and nodding, as if he actually cared.

  Knowing Jim Ellison the way he did, Blair knew that wasn't faked. Neither was his intense enjoyment of the effect two million bats' sonar had on him. By the time they said their goodbyes, Jim had developed a reputation among the group for having a strange affection for bats. A fact Blair had been sworn, at least five times during their flight home alone, to keep to himself. The sixth came when they were sitting on the couch, too exhausted from their flight to go to bed.

  "Jim, I told you, no one's even going to understand." Blair laughed, then finished his beer and pressed his head into the back of the couch, wondering if he should just sleep right there tonight.

  Beside him, with both feet propped on the coffee table, Jim sighed. "You know, we're going to be eating macaroni and cheese for about a month. That flight took a big bite out of my savings."

  Blair nodded with his head still pressed into the cushion. "I've spent a lot of years eating macaroni and cheese, Jim. It's not all that bad." He glanced over at his friend. "Besides, it was worth it."

  Jim finished his beer with one long drink, then stared at the empty bottle for a moment. "Yeah." He turned to meet Blair's gaze. "It was."

  End