by Carol Roi
"How dare he--!" The Sentinel went into full "hunt" mode, intent on tracking down his target.
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Gwendolyn Hadley had to move fast to avoid being hit by the bullet train, disguised as the kindly Detective she'd seen earlier, that stormed out of the Records Department and brushed by her. Something had set the man off, and she was glad his anger wasn't directed at her. Entering the department, she saw the files scattered on the desk, sighed, and started the task of trying to get them into order, all the time wondering what had happened. It wasn't like Jim Ellison to leave a task unfinished.
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"ELLISON! Let go!" Megan's voice cut through the black haze threatening to overcome Blair. For a moment, nothing changed, then Blair felt Jim's grip loosen, and he dropped two feet to the floor. Sucking in a lungful of air, he looked up to see the Aussie with her arm wrapped around Jim's throat in a sleeper hold. Her lips were moving, but he couldn't make out the words, and he realized she was speaking for Sentinel ears only.
Whatever she said must have worked, because the fire faded from Jim's eyes and they became two glittering chips of ice. Megan released her hold on Jim, and he headed for the door to the bullpen. She grabbed his arm. "Uh-uh. Not so fast there, Jimbo. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, as well as apologizing." Jim snorted and rolled his eyes, but made no further move to leave.
Brown reached down and gave Blair a hand up from the floor. "You okay there, Hairboy?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm used to getting pounded," he replied, his voice raspy.
"Sandy, I think we'd better do this in private." Megan cocked her head toward one of the interrogation rooms, then started in that direction, tugging Jim with her.
Once inside the room, she whirled on Jim. "What in the hell was that all about? What were you thinking? You'd better thank your lucky stars Dee wasn't here, because I know she sure as hell wouldn't be as gentle as I was! How could you attack Sandy like that?"
Jim was silent, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on a point over Sandburg's head. After several long moments, he said flatly, "He knew."
Megan let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through her hair, pushing the long strands behind her ears. "Knew what?"
Jim yanked some papers from his pocket and slapped them down on the table. Blair recognized them as the info he'd gathered on Eolia. "He knew Lee was immortal. He knew from the very beginning, hell, he knew before we even ran into her Friday night."
The inspector frowned. "What? Sandy, is this true?"
Swallowing hard, Blair nodded. "She approached me last Thursday at Rainier. She was looking for Dee. She wanted Dee to take her head." Megan gasped. Blair ignored her and continued, "Dee talked her out of it, and that was the last we thought we'd see of her. Unfortunately, we were wrong."
Jim's jaw muscles clenched and unclenched, then he finally snarled, "Were you ever going to tell me, tell us, what was going on? Or was it some big Watcher/Immortal secret you couldn't let me in on, even though you knew it would have helped the investigation? Knew that I was getting involved with her?"
Blair threw his hands up in the air and began to pace his side of the room. "I thought you did know, man! I left you the files and a note Tuesday night!"
"What note? I never found any notes!"
"After Dee was attacked! I kept trying to call you, to let you know Lee had lied, that the thief from QuestScape was immortal, was Brad! We were going to Megan's, so I left you a note!"
Jim shook his head. "Damn! I never saw it, never took your veiled hints on the voice mail as a warning. I was too concerned about getting Lee to a safe house and away from the loft."
"God, Jim, I was trying to warn you about her without letting her know." Blair turned toward his friend, his voice pleading.
Jim scrubbed his hand over his face. "Chief, next time -- if there is a next time -- don't play covert ops, okay? Just tell me so I don't have to try to read your mind."
"Hell, Jim, I didn't know what she was going to do. I didn't want her going after you because you knew her secrets. I was trying to protect you."
A snort of amusement escaped the detective. "Blair, I can take care of myself, you know that right? And I don't think Lee would've come after me for knowing that she was an Immortal Spook any more than I would have gone after her when she figured out part of what I am."
Blair shrugged his shoulders, his eyes on the floor. Man, she had the wool pulled so far over your eyes... "Yeah, whatever."
The sentinel seemed irritated by his lack of response. "Think what you want to think, Chief. Call it gut instincts or playing a hunch, but I really don't think Lee was a threat to me, you or Dee."
Oh, yeah, I forgot. She wasn't trying to kill you. Blair's thoughts were dripping with sarcasm, but he wisely held his tongue.
The three of them stared at each other for nearly a minute, then Jim said, "Are we done here? I'm sorry that I blew up at you like that, but I felt like you had purposely hidden information from me that could've helped crack this case before Lee had paid with her life."
Against his better judgment, knowing he was only going to stir things up again, Blair pointed out something Jim seemed to have missed. "Jim, Lee had all that information, which she chose to keep to herself. Dee was nearly killed because she didn't know the person after Lee was immortal."
Jim shook his head. "Maybe she had her reasons to keep silent. If she thought it would go no further than between her and Ventriss, then there was no reason for her to warn Dee or to get us, the police, involved in 'Immortal Affairs'."
Blair felt anger bubbling up inside him again. How could Jim defend her and vilify him? "So it's okay for her not to tell, but I have to spill my guts about it? Dee and I didn't say anything about her being immortal because she asked us not to. It was her business. It stopped being her business when people started getting hurt. If she had told the truth about John David's shooter, hell, if she had told the truth about the thief, maybe no one needed to die at all!"
Jim stared at him for several long moments, his jaw muscle twitching, then he spun around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Sighing, Blair said, "Well, I certainly fucked that up."
"Oh, Sandy..." Megan moved to his side, giving the guide a hug.
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Not knowing what else to do, only that if he stayed in the room any longer things would deteriorate further, Jim beat a tactical retreat. How could he have been so blind? Looking back on it now, everything Sandburg had said seemed to have a double meaning. He'd been warning Jim all along, revealing as much as he could without breaking his word to Eolia. And how had she repaid him? By nearly killing Blair and his lover. Jim had failed. Failed to protect the Guide, the Tribe, allowed his thinking to get muddled by a beautiful, red-haired woman who had proven to be the root of all that had gone wrong in the past week or so.
How in the hell did we get to this point, Chief? Jim thought as he walked down the stairwell to his truck. And worse, how do we fix it?
Dee glanced over at Blair. He was slumped in the passenger seat of her Wagoneer, and had barely said more than a couple sentences since they'd left the police station. If Megan hadn't pulled her aside and told her what had occurred between the guide and sentinel, she'd have been clueless. As it was, she didn't have even the glimmer of an idea as to how to fix the rift she considered her fault. Lia had been her responsibility.
She reached across the bench seat and wrapped her fingers around the hand that rested there. Blair's head lifted slightly and he gazed at her, his eyes dark and troubled. "We will get through this," she reassured him. "The ceremony tomorrow is about honoring Lia, and then letting her go, along with all our grief and anger and fear."
Blair made a strangled noise that Dee realiz
ed was his attempt at a laugh. "Jim? Letting go of a grievance? Maybe in your lifetime, Dee, but not in mine. I screwed up. Now I have to pay for it."
Dee ground her teeth in frustration. "You're not the only one who made mistakes, Lobo. I screwed up as well. I never should have gotten you involved. And Jim has to bear some of the blame, too. Mistakes and misconceptions abounded on all sides. Lia did a damn good job of bringing out the worst in all of us. But you have to believe we will work through this, and come out stronger in the long run."
With a small sigh, Blair nodded. "I have to, because the alternative is unthinkable."
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Megan shifted her Chevy into park and peered out the window at the deserted beach. She didn't know where else to try. Jim hadn't been at the loft, or the park, or any of his other haunts. Climbing out of the SUV, she shoved her keys in her pocket and started walking. After a couple minutes, she made out the form of a man sitting on the rocks, staring at the ocean.
"Hey, Jimbo," she called out softly as she approached.
"Connor."
She took a seat on a rock next to him, trying to ignore the cold and damp that immediately began to leech through her coat. "Been looking for you for a while."
Cocking his head toward her, Jim raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"
Megan stuffed her hands in her pockets and scrunched deeper into her jacket. "Oh, you know, concern for a friend, that sort of thing."
Jim made a noise that sounded like "harrumph." Then he said, "Sandburg send you?"
She shook her head. "No, I thought this all up on my own." Tearing her eyes from the waves breaking on the jagged stone, she looked at him. His face was blank, his slightly twitching jaw muscle the only hint of emotion. "Jim--"
He turned his face toward her, pinning her with his ice blue gaze. "Look, if you're here to apologize for Sandburg, to somehow explain away what he did, you can just forget it."
Shaking her head, Megan stared back at him. "No, I'm not here for that. I'm just as pissed at Dee as you are at Sandy. I let her know that yesterday. I got it out of my system, and we're moving on, or at least I'd like to think so. But I know we have a long way to go before we're truly partners, before we know each other inside and out. That, I think is going to be an ongoing process, one that'll take years."
Jim sighed. "If you're trying to make a point, Connor, would you please get to it?"
"Is this past week worth throwing away years of friendship?"
He stared at her again, his expression one of disbelief. "People died, Connor!"
"And Dee and Sandy were responsible for that how? They did the best they could under very bad circumstances. Dee trusted Eolia, and Sandy trusted Dee. I know you want to think the best of Lee, and I know you were starting to care for her. But she put people you love in danger. Do I think she cared for you? From what Dee says, she cared for you a lot. But it didn't change a damn thing she did. She didn't confide in you; she didn't confide in Dee. She prevented Dee from accepting Brad's challenge, nearly killing Blair in the process. Do you think she spared a thought for you then?"
Closing his eyes, Jim ran a hand over his face. "I see your point, but it doesn't mean what Sandburg did wasn't wrong. And it doesn't mean I don't feel pain at losing Lee."
Getting up from her rock, Megan approached Ellison, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. "In a perfect world, Sandy would have known immediately that telling you about Lee and her past was of the utmost importance. But it's not a perfect world, Jim, and none of us knew that a simple break-in would lead to this. And it's okay to feel pain; I'd be more worried about you if you told me you felt nothing. I think it's important you go to the ceremony tomorrow."
Jim got slowly to his feet. "I know. I'll be there. I just couldn't face spending the night there on the island, knowing she was..." His voice trailed off.
"Yeah, I know. Kind of creeps me out, too." She let go of his shoulder, and was about to stick her hand back in her pocket when Jim grabbed it, giving it a quick squeeze.
"Thanks for coming after me, Connor. You're a good friend."
Surprised by his unusual openness, she flushed, then said, "Come on, I'll buy you a beer and a steak dinner, then we can drive up to Seacouver in the morning. That sound all right to you?"
Draping an arm over her shoulders, Jim guided her back up the beach. "I think I'd like that."
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Dee watched from her seat on the floor as Blair paced the small living room of MacLeod's cabin. She'd spent most of the day after their arrival at the island preparing Lia's body for the ceremony. She'd bathed her, anointing her with rare oils and perfumes, then wrapped her body in unbleached linen, all the while chanting prayers of passage from this world to the next. She was surprised she still remembered them, as well as the ritual. It had been a very long time since she had last performed the rites.
Given the choice of helping her, or helping Jan-Michel build the funeral pyre, Blair had headed outside with an ax. She hadn't blamed him. Now, though, it was getting late and she wanted to go to bed. LaFollet had volunteered to stay with Lia's body at the pyre, which they had built on a small cliff overlooking the lake, in order to keep scavengers from disturbing it.
"Lobo, you're making me dizzy. Can you just sit down for a few minutes?"
Running a hand through his hair, Blair crossed the room again. "I should have stayed in Cascade, gone after Jim, tried to work things out."
Resting her elbow on her knee, Dee leaned her chin in her hand. "Were you ready to work things out when we left?"
Pausing in front of the fireplace, Blair moved the logs around with a poker. "No," he replied finally. "No, I wasn't ready then. I was hurt, and I was angry. Jim hit me, for god's sake, even though I deserved it."
Dee exhaled in frustration. "Blair, no one deserves to be hit, especially by a friend. But we are human; we make mistakes. You've already forgiven Jim for striking you, haven't you?"
He kept his back to her as he answered. "Yes."
"Then what makes you think Jim's going to need you to crawl over broken glass before he forgives you? He's your friend, and your partner. He's going to do the same thing you did. Take some time to be alone, to think things through, and then he will forgive you. Everything will be fine tomorrow, you'll see."
Blair crossed the small space between them and sat down on the floor next to her, leaning his back against the couch. "I hope you're right."
"I know I'm right." She patted the rug in front of her. "Now let me work on your shoulders, or you won't be able to move tomorrow."
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Blair scooted around in front of Dee, and at her urging removed the three layers of shirts he was wearing. He felt her hands gathering his loose hair, twisting it up and tying it out of the way. Her fingers stroked lightly over his shoulders then, getting him used to her touch before she dug in deep, working the knots out of his muscles. It felt good, really good, and Blair almost felt guilty that he was enjoying this, when he imagined Jim was sitting in a dark loft all by himself, grieving over the loss of Eolia.
Closing his eyes, he played the week back over in his mind. He wondered if he'd done things differently, if he'd told Jim Lee was immortal, that she was CIA, that she'd worked with Brackett, would things would have worked out better? He couldn't see how they would have. If he'd told Jim what he had learned earlier in the week, before anything had gone wrong, Jim would have accused him of checking up on him, of not trusting his judgment. Blair snorted softly. It wasn't like Jim hadn't done the same thing with his girlfriends on more than one occasion, Dee included. Any way he looked at it, Jim was going to be mad at him, to one degree or another. The only way things might have been different was if Lee had told him the truth from the beginning. Jim would have listened to her.
A long si
gh escaped him. Her massage finished, he felt Dee's hands drop from his shoulders to wrap around his waist, gently pulling him back to lean against her chest. For a brief moment, he thought of resisting, of getting up and pacing again, but the need to be close to her outweighed his need to fret. He relaxed against her, feeling her drape the blanket she'd pulled off the sofa around both of them.
Her cheek pressed against his hair, and Blair stared into the fire, beginning to feel drowsy, as well as warm, and safe, and loved. That thought sent a stab of pain through his heart. Here he was, being held, being loved by a wonderful woman, and because of him, Jim had lost that chance at happiness. Turning his head, Blair pressed his face against Dee's neck, his breathing ragged as he fought the urge to cry. Dee's hold on him tightened, and he felt her fingers stroking his hair, as she whispered, "Shh, shh, it'll be all right, Lobo. You have to believe that..."
