by Carol Roi
She felt his fingertips brush her cheek. "Sorry." He braked at a stoplight. His light touch under her chin turned her face to him, and he leaned toward her, stealing a long kiss. He didn't pull away until the car behind them honked its horn.
"All right, all right, keep your pants on," Jim muttered as he pulled through the intersection.
Megan smiled at him. "Good advice, that."
He stuck his tongue out at her.
"Ah, now you're showing your true age." But she reached over and patted his leg, letting her hand rest there as he drove. There was silence between them for a minute or so, then Megan asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Jim glanced at her. "Hmm, what?"
"Offering Sandy a position at Major Crime. I mean, not that it's not a good idea, but don't you think we should all sit down and discuss this in private first? I really think Dee and Sandy ought to know what you and Simon have set up before you just spring it on him in front of everyone."
Jim shrugged. "I have to do something, Connor. It's my fault he got fired from the university. If this isn't the direction he wants to go, then he doesn't have to accept it. I just want to let him know the option to be my partner on the force is open to him."
Sighing, Megan went back to staring out the window. She had a bad feeling about the whole thing. She'd tried calling Dee after Sandy had arrived at the loft that morning, but had gotten no answer at either her DC townhouse or her cell phone. She was sure the immortal was fine, but her being unavailable today was bloody inconvenient.
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The Major Crime bullpen was almost deserted when Blair entered. Good, this was good. The fewer people here to witness him retreating with his tail between his legs, the better. He probably should scrounge up a box from someplace. Rhonda usually kept a few empty ones by the copier. He headed toward the Xerox machine, but found himself detouring into Simon's office.
He stood there, staring at the conference table, memories of long nights, brainstorming sessions and piles of paperwork flooding his mind. He had been a part of that, had made a difference, or so he had thought.
"Hey, Blair, what you up to, man?"
Blair shook himself out of his reverie at the sound of Joel's voice. "I'm taking a last look around."
Joel's expression seemed genuinely puzzled. "Last look? You going somewhere?"
Blair shrugged, not sure exactly how to explain his situation. He settled for the bitter truth. "Well, yeah. I cleaned out my desk over at Rainier. I thought I'd do the same thing here. I'm a fraud, man. I don't think Simon's going to want me hanging around."
"Sandburg! That is not your office," Simon's voice boomed through the bullpen.
"Hey, Simon, they let you out?" Blair exited the captain's office to find the previously empty room full of his friends--and his mom? What in the hell was going on?
Leaning on his cane, a grin on his face, Jim answered, "Nah, they threw him out."
"They didn't throw me out," Simon growled from his wheelchair. "They said I was too cantankerous."
Jim feigned surprise and pinched Simon's cheek. "You? No."
Blair turned his gaze to his mother, Naomi, who leaned against a desk, a smile plastered on her face. "Thank god Dee isn't here," ran through his mind. He didn't think he could have dealt with the two of them coming face to face along with everything else he'd been through today. "Mom, what are you doing here?"
Reaching out, she patted his face. "I'd never miss this occasion, darling."
Alarm bells began to go off in his head. Ignoring them, Blair said, "This is great. Everybody's safe and out of the hospital and happy." At least that's why he hoped everyone was gathered together and all staring at him. He fought the urge to flee.
Simon cleared his throat. "That's not exactly why we asked your mom here. I understand you gave up your job at the university, and I saw you over there in my office. So, we decided we needed to do something to keep you under control."
Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. Blair brought his hands up. "Whoa, whoa, look guys, it's handled, okay? I'm outta here--"
"You're finished in this department, Chief--."
Blair flinched. He hadn't thought hearing the words would hurt so much. "Yeah, well, I-I sort of…well, I figured that."
"--as an observer." Jim tossed something at him.
Reflexively, Blair caught the leather wallet and slowly opened it. A gleaming gold shield shone up at him. Confusion and dread began to knot in the pit of his stomach. "What is this? This is a detective's badge." He looked back up, his eyes running over the faces gazing at him. His mother wore an expression of forced happiness, and Megan looked decidedly uncomfortable, her smile anxious. "I don't deserve this," he stated, holding the billfold out.
Simon took it from him. "No, you don't, at least not until you go to the Police Academy and complete firearms training. And if you do, Detective Ellison is looking for a permanent official partner."
With a supreme effort, Blair kept his expression neutral while his heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the grip of Scully's Sig Sauer in his hand, his finger tightening on the trigger, the recoil jerking his arm up slightly. With sentinel-like sight he tracked the bullet, seeing it pierce Mulder's chest, a crimson stain blossoming from the crisp, neat hole. He couldn't carry a gun, not after what he'd done. He wasn't going to kill someone again.
Blair shook himself out of his nightmare recollections, feeling rather than seeing Jim approach him. He realized he had to say something. "Uh, yeah? So, does this mean a paycheck?" That's it, Sandburg. Make a joke. Make them think everything's okay….
Jim laughed. "Can you say 'back rent'? Come on, what do you say?"
Blair caught Megan's eyes, mentally begging her to save him.
She must not have understood his silent plea, because she chimed, "Say something, Sandy."
He babbled the only thing that popped into his head. "I'm still not cutting my hair."
Jim laughed again, an irritating "Ho, ho, ho."
"I'm not going to do it." Blair took a step back, feeling cornered, his emotions churning, ready to explode.
Jim hooked the crook of his cane around Blair's neck, wrapping him in a headlock as he gave him a noogie. "They're going to love you at the Academy. Captain, I'm going to make a little Blair-skin rug for you here…"
Blair rammed his elbow into Jim's mid-section and slipped out of his hold. "Let go of me!" He backed away from the group, feeling their surprised gazes on him. "I just--I can't deal with this right now, okay? I need some space!" Whirling, he dashed out of the bullpen and headed for the stairs, wishing he'd never come back to Cascade.
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Ellison stared after his friend, wondering what in the hell was going on. He'd thought Blair would jump at the chance to be an official member of the force, to be Jim's partner. A tight grip on his biceps was the only thing keeping him from following Sandburg. He looked down to see Naomi's hand clutching his arm, her eyes flashing.
"I hope you're happy. I showed up here because I owed you that much, after all the bad karma I set in motion, but I went along with this little charade for Blair's sake, not yours. You didn't seriously expect him to believe that speech, did you? My son, a cop? That was a stretch even before he flushed his academic career down the toilet for you."
"Naomi, I'm trying to make things right here--" Jim growled between clenched teeth, denying the truth behind her words.
She snorted, tossing her head. "Right? Right? You're everything that's gone wrong in Blair's life. I don't know what he sees in you, why he's stood by you all this time, but I hope this is the end of it. I hope he finally sees you for what you are. You've taken advantage of him since the moment you met. He sacrificed his good name, his reputation, his entire life, to protect your little secret. And all you can offer him in return is a piece of tin, the promise of a mea
sly paycheck and the likelihood of an early grave?"
For a moment, Jim thought she was going to spit in his face. Instead, she brushed past him, then turned in the Major Crime doorway. "If you're truly his friend, you'll let him go; you'll leave well enough alone. I think you've done enough damage, don't you?" Then she was gone in a storm of jasmine scented air.
Ellison stood there, feeling his jaw clench, sensing everyone's eyes on him. He whirled on the remainder of their party, his glare sending them scurrying. Everyone but Megan, that is.
"Jim--" she started, her good hand reaching for his.
"Don't, Connor, just don't. Oh, hell, go ahead and say it. I fucked up again."
She shook her head, and he felt her fingers curling around his, tugging him into Simon's office. Shutting the door behind them, she looked at him for a long moment before she spoke. He felt like she was weighing him, appraising his worth. "Jim," she finally said, "it's in your nature to try and control your environment, to make the people and events in it fit into an orderly pattern. If something's off kilter, out of whack, you want to straighten it out. Maybe it's a sentinel thing. Maybe order is easier on heightened senses, or maybe it's just your own anal-retentiveness. But when something goes wrong, your first instinct is to fix it, to return everything to the nice, calm, predictable status quo. But Sandy's life isn't a problem for you to solve. It's his, and his alone when it comes right down to it. You can't force him to fit into your mold, sentinel/guide bond crap be damned."
Jim turned away from her, crossing the room and staring out the window into the late winter morning. He didn't want to hear this, he really didn't. Deep inside, a part of him knew she was right, that if Blair chose to leave, chose another life, he should let him go. But damn if he didn't want to hold on, to dig in his heels and refuse to admit that perhaps they'd passed the point of no return, that their lives had been irrevocably changed. But he couldn't ignore that still, quiet voice in the back of his mind, reminding him of his flaws, pointing out all the reasons Diandra was the better choice, was the one Blair should have found, was the sentinel he should have guided.
He let out a long sigh. "So what are you saying? That I shouldn't have done anything? That I shouldn't have let Simon offer Sandburg a position?"
When Megan answered, he realized she was right behind him. "I'm just saying you need to give him some time. You need to give yourself time. You need to figure out what's more important, your nice, safe, predictable job, and the illusion of not being a freak, or Sandy's friendship."
Her words stung, and he was reminded of the fight that they'd had nearly two weeks ago, in the hospital. She'd been rather free with the "freak" term then as well. He ducked his head, avoiding her probing eyes. "Being a cop is all I know--"
"So? Who said you had to stop learning the moment you pinned on the badge? Maybe it's time we all took some time off and re-examined our lives, figure out what this being bonded thing really means. God knows I need a hell of a lot more training at this companion thing." She stepped into his space, smiling up at him. "Just think about it, okay? No one is going to think twice if we decide to take some vacation time. We've been through a bugger of a year."
He tucked a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. "Well, when you put it that way…."
"We'll make arrangements when Dee gets back. Or maybe we could head to the East Coast. A change of scenery might be good."
Jim put his hand on her shoulder. "Speaking of scene changes, I'm ready to get out of here. How about you?"
Megan nodded and headed for the door. "What about Sandy?"
Jim forced a smile. "I'm taking your advice. He can have all the space he needs to figure things out." But he was damned if he was going to let Blair walk out of his life.
To Be Continued...
