by Debbie Pack
That was easier said than done. Although he wanted to curl up and sleep for about a hundred years he was more concerned over his partner. He really wanted to find Jim and see how he was doing. He fumbled with the controls of the bed and managed to raise himself a little. Maybe, if he could stay awake long enough he could think of a way to find his partner.
* * * *
Jim watched silently through drowsy eyes as the nurse helped Blair into the second bed of the small room. She finishing settling him into the bed, added something to the I.V. running into the younger man's arm then quietly checked Jim's leg once more before leaving.
They had re-bandaged Sandburg's eyes. The doctor had told Jim they would be doing it but that it was only for protection and the bandages would be removed in a day or so. The swelling would be reduced enough by that time for the kid to have his sight back.
Jim smiled at the strength of his partner. Sandburg had held together well considering the trauma he'd gone through. But then, the young anthropologist always seemed to bounce back fast. It was testament to his fortitude, an underlying strength he possessed that was often misjudged by people who didn't know him.
Jim knew him and was proud of that fact. Despite the trouble that seemed to tag along where ever the young man went, Jim couldn't imagine where his life would be without Blair Sandburg in it. He hoped he never had to find out.
He watched as his partner began restlessly shifting in the bed. He smiled to himself as he realized he was up to something. Blair was not comfortable unless he was in perpetual motion.
Jim waited until Sandburg had kicked free of the blankets covering him and started to swing his legs to the side of the bed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His voice was low and carried the tone of authority he knew irritated the younger man, but the effect was exactly what he had hoped for. Sandburg had nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Oh God, Jim, man. Don't do that to me," Blair breathed, freezing in place.
Ellison had heard his heartbeat spike before leveling out and let a grin creep across his face.
"Going somewhere, Chief?"
It never ceased to amaze him how easily Blair's thoughts telecast across his face, even with half of it covered by gauze and tape.
"I was...I...ummm...I was...."
"Yes?" he asked innocently, waiting until Blair gave up trying to think of a believable answer.
Finally, the younger man turned his bandaged head in the direction of Jim's voice.
"Where have you been?" he asked.
Jim watched as he scooted himself back in the bed and felt around for the blanket he'd kicked loose earlier. "Right here. Waiting for you."
Sandburg stopped all movement.
"Here?" He cocked his head slightly, "Are you my sleeping roommate?"
Jim let his voice fill with the severe tone of someone who had been disturbed and didn't appreciate it. "I was. Until *someone* decided to try a midnight walk."
Blair cleared his throat self-consciously, "Sorry about that, man."
Jim smiled at the chastised look that crossed the lower half of the younger man's face, then sighed in weariness, "No problem, Chief. Just...stay in the bed. Okay?"
"I will," he promised, breathing deeply as the drug he'd been given took effect and he relaxed into the pile of pillows, "now that I know you're okay." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Where'd Simon go?"
Jim yawned mightily, "He and Thompson went back to the station to finish the reports on Whittaker."
Blair pushed himself up on one elbow with effort, "So this Whittaker was the inside man on the diamond theft?"
"It looks that way. Thompson's got his people rechecking to make sure there were no others involved."
Sandburg lowered his head before asking his next question. "What about your friend, Mike Ryan?"
Jim couldn't help but smile. It had felt good to learn the truth about Ryan. "Turns out, Ryan was FBI too."
"What?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah. He'd been working undercover for months to establish his role as a smuggler. He was clean."
Blair heard the sadness in his partner's voice and knew Jim regretted his doubt of the man.
"Jim," he said softly, "I'm sorry. About your friend, I mean."
Jim looked down at his hands gripping the sheets on the bed. "It wasn't your fault, Chief."
"I know, but still..."
"Don't worry about it, buddy. Mike saved our lives during that crash. We couldn't have done anything else to help him. And the FBI will see that he's buried with the proper honors," his voice took on a faraway quality. "Mike'd like that."
Blair yawned this time and Jim could hear his voice running down. Whatever he had been given in the I.V. was beginning to take affect and was making him drowsy.
"At least Simon can't blame us this time."
Jim smiled. He had heard his captain remark on several occasions that trouble seemed to follow the two of them around. "I...ah...wouldn't bet on it."
"Yeah?" the younger man stifled another yawn, "How come?"
"I heard Simon asking Thompson if he had any openings for an anthropologist on his team."
Blair's jaw dropped open. "Why?"
Jim grinned again, "Simon offered to loan us as a team to the FBI for six months. He said something about needing a vacation and with you and I not around, even working would seem like a vacation."
Blair was unfazed by the jest. He was used to Simon's sputtering at the incidents they were continually involved in, besides, he was feeling really tired right now.
He yawned once again, "If Thompson decides to take him up on the offer, hold out for a position in Hawaii or at least southern Arizona, someplace warm..."
His voice drifted off and Jim could hear his breathing even out. He listened for a few more minutes to the steady rhythm of his partner's breath and the quiet sounds of the hospital, then sighed and relaxed himself.
It had been a close call for both of them but they were both safe and with a little rest they would both be back at work before long.
Jim closed his eyes. Yeah, they would both be fine and back to work before long.
The End.
