Sentinel - Progression Series 03 Full Circle

by Beth Manz

  Jim read through the letter again, then folded it and looked up at his partner. A small smile broke across his features, widening into a large grin. Affection, pride and pleasure reflected in his eyes and he said simply, "This is great news, Chief. This is really great news!" He handed the letter back to Blair, then gestured toward the oven, laughing. "Well, I wish I'd known about this. I would have taken you to celebrate, and we'd have gone for something a lot better than pizza."

  Sandburg laughed and shook his head. "No, no. This is perfect, Jim. I wanted it to be sort of low key, you know. Just the two of us here, doing normal stuff."

  "Have you told Naomi?"

  "No, I wanted to tell you first."

  Jim nodded, then pointed his finger at Blair. "All right, but this weekend we're celebrating this occasion right. You free Friday night?"

  Blair smiled. "Yeah, I am."

  "Okay, then. Just be sure you iron your best tie. We will not be going to Wonder Burger."

  Blair laughed out loud. "I'll try not to show my disappointment."

  Jim chuckled, then gazed down at Blair fondly. "I'm very proud of you, Chief," he said at last, then reached forward and pulled his friend into his embrace.

  Blair smiled as he found himself locked in Jim's arms, the recipient of a warm hug. It wasn't one of the comforting hugs that Jim gave him when he was hurting, but rather a guy-type hug, complete with a few hearty slaps on his back and the deep rumble of Jim's laughter serving as a backdrop. Blair returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, adding the sound of his own laughter to that of Jim's, absurdly pleased at the way the two sounds met and melded together in their own sort of harmony. A perfect, clear, soul-touching harmony.

  Jim pulled back a bit, ending the hug but keeping one hand on Blair's shoulder. He reached over to retrieve Sandburg's beer and pushed it into his hand. Lifting his own drink, Jim raised the bottle to meet Blair's. "To you, Chief," Jim said simply, the warmth and affection in his voice conveying how much the unadorned words really meant. "Congratulations, buddy."

  /

  /

  /

  Jim steered his truck into the Rainier parking area. His headlights swept over the few cars scattered across the wide lot; the campus was nearly deserted at this late hour. Pushing open his door and stepping out into the cool night, he was glad he had insisted on coming to pick Blair up. He hated the idea of his partner taking a late bus home. The kid had done it plenty of times and although Jim had never said anything, he'd worried each time.

  He shook his head, chuckling to himself. "You do hover, Ellison," he mumbled. It wasn't that he doubted that Blair could take care of himself. Hell, Sandburg had proven his resourcefulness over and over again. It was just... well, he didn't belong on a late night bus traveling through some of the worst parts of Cascade. Especially when, unlike most of the people on that bus, Blair had someone at home who was willing to pick him up when he needed a ride.

  As he neared the building that housed Blair's office, Jim couldn't help but smile. In just two days, the kid would graduate. Finally receive the Ph.D he'd worked so hard to earn. And Jim could hardly wait. He already had graduation pictured in his mind. He planned to sit front and center. He'd promised the guys at Major Crimes that he would take plenty of pictures. After all, they would want to see pictures at the party.

  Jim was proud of his own deviousness. He had actually managed to plan the entire party, inviting all the guys from Major Crimes and a few of Blair's colleagues from Rainier, and his partner didn't suspect a thing so far. The day before they left for their week long vacation at the beach, Jim would take Blair out to shop for last minute supplies. While they were out, everyone would gather at Blair's favorite Italian restaurant. After an hour or so of shopping, Jim would suggest dinner at Vincenzo's, then surprise! "He's going to be so shocked," he muttered happily.

  Reaching Hargrove Hall, Jim pulled the door open and stepped inside. Overhead lights were on in the main hall and in a few of the offices, but he passed no one as he made his way toward his partner's office. He grimaced and dialed back his hearing as a blast of music assaulted his ears as he neared Blair's door. Stepping around a young man who was sluggishly transferring a stack of boxes from the floor to a mail cart, he knocked quickly, then pushed the door open.

  Blair stood in front of a file cabinet, his back to Jim, his body bouncing in beat with the loud music. Jim smiled, the image reminding him of the first time he'd met Sandburg at Rainier. The office his guide had been occupying at that time had been smaller than this one and--unbelievably--even more cluttered. Jim recalled that he had taken one look at the longhaired grad student and been convinced that he was trouble. The kid had tricked him into the meeting, called him the equivalent of a Neanderthal, and then proceeded to generally push every button Jim had.

  But now, as he watched Blair move to the music, he couldn't imagine his life without the young man in it.

  "Hey, Chief," he called loudly, "What are you trying to do? Entertain the tribes all the way down in Peru with that music?"

  Blair looked over his shoulder, his eyes open in confused surprise until he grasped Jim's meaning. "Oh! Sorry, man," he said, shoving the set of papers he held in his hand into their appropriate file. Quickly, he placed the remaining papers on top of the cabinet, then stepped over to the stereo to push the off button. Looking over at the detective, he muttered, "It wasn't that loud."

  "Not to you, maybe," Jim countered, smiling. "You about ready to go?"

  "Yep, almost there, man." Blair stepped back over to the cabinet. "Just let me file the rest of these papers, okay? And I need to send an e-mail message. That will take me about two minutes, and then we are out of here!"

  Jim waved him off and stepped up to the bookshelves behind Blair's desk. "Take your time. I thought we'd stop for Chinese on the way home. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" he asked as he surveyed the titles of the books with distracted interest.

  "No. Chinese sounds good."

  Jim turned his head and watched Blair push a final handful of papers into a file folder, close and lock the file cabinet, then cross to his PC. As the younger man pulled up his e-mail, he filled Jim in on his day: "Man, I cannot believe how much I got done today. But I still have a lot to do tomorrow. I want to be totally organized before graduation. Can you believe that? Me? Organized? But that way I can just enjoy the day, you know? No worries. And then that week at the beach..." His voice trailed off as he started typing a message onto the blank screen before him, his back to Jim. "So how was your day?"

  Jim shrugged. "Pretty routine, I guess. Joel helped me track down a couple of leads on the Watson homicide. Other than that it was just a matter of briefing Brown and Rafe on what we've been doing and transferring our case load over to them so we can get out of here for a week."

  Jim smiled as Blair responded to the mention of the week away by raising one hand in a little victory gesture. The young man never took his eyes from his computer screen.

  Jim turned his attention back to the bookshelves and began absently tidying the volumes there. "Oh," he said as he worked, "I heard today that a date has been set for Dr. Grant's upcoming trial. It's going to be on July--"

  "Jim, we are not going to discuss the trial." Sandburg turned in his chair and looked back at his partner. "I'm serious, man. No trial talk. I'm going to graduate day after tomorrow, and then you and I are going on vacation. We're going to fish and sit in the sun and sleep until noon if we want. We'll worry about the trial after we get back home. Deal?"

  Jim rubbed at his chin in mock-concentration. Looking over at Sandburg, he said, "So you probably don't want to hear that Grant's lawyers have put so many motions forward that this thing will probably be delayed into the next millennium?"

  "No, Jim. I don't want to hear about it."

  Jim raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Chief. You're the boss."

  Sandburg snorted. "Since when? And can I have that in writing?" He turned back to his PC to finish up his
e-mail. "So tell me about the rest of your day, minus any trial stuff, okay?"

  "Okay. Simon told me the commissioner had called to tell him he finished reading that copy of your dissertation that he asked for last month."

  Blair looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at his partner. "I still do not understand why the commissioner needed a copy of my diss in order to make a decision about my consultant status."

  "Relax, Chief," Jim soothed as he continued to adjust books on the top shelf. "There's a nasty little rumor around the station that you know how to read and write. I'm sure the commish just wants to make sure the rumor is true."

  Blair stopped typing and shook his head. "Funny, Jim. Have I ever told you what a funny guy you are?" He flipped the PC off and stood. Crossing to his desk, he snagged his backpack, then looked around his office, muttering to himself. Finally, apparently satisfied that he had taken care of everything he needed to, he stepped up to Jim. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's get out of here." But before he had taken a step, he suddenly raised his hand and whapped himself in the forehead. "Oh, man!"

  "What?"

  "My good black pants. I forgot to drop them off at the dry cleaner and I wanted to make sure I got them in so I could pick them up tomorrow."

  "They'll be ready to pick up the morning of graduation." At Blair's questioning look, Jim continued, "I saw them draped across the chair in your room. And although that's not an unusual place for your clothes to end up, I remembered you saying something last week about them needing to be cleaned. So I ran them in."

  "Oh, man, Jim, you're a life saver!" Blair beamed, slapping Jim heartily on the upper arm and happily ignoring his partner's crack about his clothes not always making their way into the closet or dresser drawers. He started toward the door, looking back to give Jim an extra wide smile. "What would I do without you?"

  "I shudder to think," Jim intoned dryly, placing his hand on Blair's back to usher him out the door. But before he could take a step, his cell phone rang. He dropped his hand to his side and groaned. Reaching into his pocket for the ringing phone, he shook his head at his partner and grimaced. "It's almost ten. This could only be bad news, right?"

  Blair looked up at him. "No doubt." He bounced up on his toes and gestured toward the phone. "Hey, just tell Simon you've already put in your twelve hours."

  Jim reached over and cuffed him on the side of his head, then flipped the phone open. "Ellison."

  "Jim? It's Simon." There was a small pause. "Listen, are you with Blair?"

  Jim raised his eyebrows and looked down at Sandburg. "Yeah, he's right here. We were just about to leave his office and grab a bite to eat on the way home. What's up?"

  "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Regarding Sandburg."

  Jim's heart lurched. Bad new regarding Blair? "This isn't about his approval from the commissioner is it, Simon? Because if I have to go see the man myself--"

  "This isn't about his consultant status, Jim. It's worse." The captain paused again. "Jim, we just had a tip phoned in. Word on the street is that a hit has been put out on Blair's life."

  Jim's grip tightened on the phone. "What! Is this someone's idea of a joke?"

  "Let me finish. We thought it was possibly a prank. Then the caller identified himself. It was Jake Malone, Jim. I talked with him myself."

  "Malone..." Jim bit at the inside of his lip. This wasn't good. Malone was the best snitch the department had. When he gave them information from off the street, nine times out of ten, it was valid. "Who did this?" he demanded. "Did Malone know?"

  "No. Only that the word just went out in the last 24 hours or so. And the price is high, Jim. Whoever wants Sandburg taken out is willing to pay big money."

  Jim rubbed his hand across his face. He had a good idea who was responsible for this and the high price only made him more certain.

  "Jim, are you there?"

  Ellison pinched at the bridge of his nose. "I'm here, Captain."

  "Take Sandburg and go home. And stay there. I've got a couple uniforms assigned to the outside of the loft, and I'll drop by in the morning. We can decide where to go from there."

  "Yeah, all right." He exhaled a huff of disgust. "I just can't believe this," he said, looking down at his partner, who was standing in front of him, staring up at him with wide eyes. He reached out and placed his hand on the back of Blair's neck, then slid it down to rest on his friend's shoulder. "I'll talk with you in the morning, Simon."

  "Be careful, Jim," his captain warned him. "Take care of Sandburg."

  Again Jim looked down into the eyes of his best friend and partner. He squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand. "You can count on it, sir."

  Jim closed his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

  Blair continued to stare up at him. He knew from the stiffening of Blair's body that he was aware that something was wrong. Something that had to do with him.

  "What's going on, Jim? What did Simon tell you?"

  "Blair," he said, his voice low, resigned.

  "Oh man," Blair groaned. "You're using my first name. This is going to be really bad, isn't it?"

  "I'm afraid so, buddy." Jim squeezed his shoulder again. "Simon has it on good authority that there's been a hit put out on your life."

  Blair blinked several times as Jim's words settled over him. "A hit? You mean like there's a hit man after me?"

  "Yes," Jim said softly. "But don't worry, Chief. We're right on top of this. Nothing is going to happen to you. We're-"

  "You're damn right nothing is going to happen to me," Blair snapped. Pulling away from Jim, he paced the length of the office, his hands gesturing wildly as he moved. "You know, I don't get this. I don't get this at all! Do I have a kick me sign on my back? A bulls-eye I'm unaware of? These guys think they can come into my life and screw me up like this?" He marched up to Jim and stared up at him. "Well, you know what? Not again!" Holding up his hand, he began ticking off points: "I am graduating in two days, we are going on vacation, and I still have to finish straightening up my office! I don't have time for this!" His hands went to his hips. "Who did this?" he demanded.

  Jim raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I don't know for sure," he blurted out, taken off guard by the kid's venom. He had expected shock, even a little fear, but certainly not this anger. "Sandburg, you need to calm down."

  "Calm down!" Blair exploded. "How can I calm down?" He began pacing again, muttering under his breath. "Some jerk decides to put a price on my head and he says 'calm down'. This just screws up all my plans and I-" He stopped suddenly and glared up at Jim as a new thought struck him. "I am not missing my graduation over this."

  Jim spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness. "Chief, come on. If we haven't caught this shooter by then, you may have to."

  "No, no, no, Jim, you're not listening. I am not missing it. If I have to wear a kevlar vest under my robe I will, but dammit, I'm going to that ceremony and getting that degree. I worked too hard for this and nothing--and I mean nothing--is going to keep me away."

  Crossing to him, Jim placed his hands on his shoulders. "Chief, please. Can we talk about this at home?"

  "Yeah, whatever," Blair mumbled. "It's just... things are finally going my way, you know? I don't want some clown who's out for revenge for whatever nutty reason coming after me again."

  Jim stiffened at Blair's words. Sudden guilt washed over him. Revenge. The word pounded through him. The revenge hadn't been against Blair but against me. He took an involuntary step back from his guide, his hands falling away from his shoulders.

  "Jim?" Blair stared up at him, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong? What...?" His eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh man, Jim, I didn't mean to imply-"

  "It's okay, Sandburg. What happened to you with Quinn and Eddie... that was my fault." He shook his head. They hadn't talked about this. Jim had wanted to, more than once, but he hadn't known how to bring it up or what to say.

  "Jim, I don't blame you. Not at all. I never have." He stepped
closer to his partner, closing the small gap between them. "You know why those guys chose me? Because I mean something to you. So unless you plan on changing that..." He let the sentence trail off, his eyes locked with Jim's.

  The sentinel smiled down at him. "That won't ever change, Sandburg."

  "Good. That's what I wanted to hear." He chuckled. "Now, let's get out of here. I'm not done ranting yet, but I'd like to finish in the privacy of our own home. Besides, I'm hungry, and I do much better ranting on a full stomach."

  /

  /

  /

  Jim's hand rested against Blair's back as they made their way toward Hargrove Hall's main exit. The light touch at the center of his back gave Blair a much needed sense of security. He'd been angry when Jim first told him about the hit that had been placed on his life. But now, as they prepared to leave the relative safety of the building, he was afraid. His fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack, which dangled at the end of his left hand.

  It had been three months since Jim had found him in that wet field near the Ellison family home. In that time, Blair had healed. His ribs, his foot, the scrapes and bruises. Every injury he had sustained from Grant, Eddie and Quinn had finally disappeared. Only a narrow white scar remained on his chin--a scar that would never fade, but really wasn't noticeable unless he tipped his head a certain way. But it wasn't just the physical injuries from which he now felt he'd recovered. He was finally sleeping through the nights without dreaming of being locked in a cold, dark place from which he was powerless to escape. He shuddered at the memories that those thoughts invoked.

  "You okay, Chief?"

  He glanced up at Jim. The sentinel was staring down at him, concern evident in his eyes. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

  Jim's hand, still resting against his back, moved up to his shoulder and gripped tightly. "Your heart rate just spiked," he informed Blair softly.

  "Can't fool you," Sandburg muttered as his gaze shifted to the exit just ahead of them. To the darkness beyond that door. "I'm a little worried, Jim. I guess I can't help but wonder if there's someone waiting out there for me."