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THE SENTINEL is the property of Pet Fly Productions yadda yadda yadda. I do not, would not, and could not claim ownership of any of the characters, ( Except for the ones I made up eh? ) so don't sue me. Especially since I’m certainly not making money on this gig. I promise to put Jim, Blair, and Simon back where I found them OK? I suppose I’ll rate this work of pure regurgitated creativity PG :) By the way, I must give thanks to the "Plot Guru", Terri...and my parents for letting her watch WAY too much TV as a kid.

This can't happen! It was just supposed to be a simple hit. Now I’m screwed and the God-damned cops just arrested my target! This never would have happened if I’d killed Ellison years ago. Screw it, he’ll pay for messing with my life again! That little shit over there should do the trick. Louis Watson picked up the clip and loaded the gun. Slowly and silently he rose up from behind the boxes he had been hiding behind, aiming the gun at the group of police officers hand-cuffing the man he was sent to kill. Cocking the hammer slowly, he picked the easiest target in the group. The one who was obviously Ellison's partner, and with long hair like that, he was probably wasn’t even a cop. The innocent will pay for the crimes of the guilty. Ellison’s friend, definitely innocent, he'd be the first to go. He was so consumed with rage that he didn't notice a lone officer leave the group huddling around the former target.

Ellison crept around to the back side of the musty warehouse. Then he heard it...a clip being loaded into a gun. It was then he realized that Joseph Rosen hadn't been alone, or had he? When you’re looking to be the head of a crime family, it doesn’t exactly make you popular. He listened carefully, filtering out the familiar sounds of the other officers talking, just like Blair had taught him. Then the single sound he had been listening for, a racing, unfamiliar heartbeat. Jim wove through the mess of crates so he could position himself behind whomever was in the warehouse with them. He rounded a corner and found the man ready to fire his gun at the unsuspecting officers. He took a closer look and saw he was aiming directly for Blair.

"Freeze! Drop the gun!" Jim shouted aiming his gun for Louis.

Watson spun around, more out of surprise than out of defense, not realizing that he had inadvertently aimed his gun for Ellison's chest. It was the wrong move. The detective fired. Watson reeled backwards into the boxes and fell to the floor unconscious. Cautiously, Jim moved forward to check the body. He saw the kevlar vest under the man's jacket. Jim knelt down beside him to check his pulse. Strong and steady, nothing to worry about.

"Jim! Are you OK?" Blair shouted out in a half-panic.

"Yeah, I'm OK Chief. We've got another one over here Simon!" yelled Jim tucking the gun back into its holster.

"Another one?" Simon called back in disbelief. They had been planning this sting for weeks and there hadn't been any mention of Rosen working with someone else. He muttered a curse and sent two officers to help Jim out with the unconscious body.

Jim began searching he "mystery man's" pockets for his wallet. Finding it, he opened it to find an ID card. "Louis Watson. Well Mr. Watson, you're under arrest." he read aloud patting the tall, thin, and quite unconscious man on the shoulder. The two officers walked up to the body and rolled him over, cuffed him and began to drag him away. The detective got up and dusted himself off. Something about their new prisoner was tugging at the back of his mind...something that shouldn’t be remembered. Louis Watson...I know that name, don't I? Suddenly the memory came back in full force. The Innocent will pay... The blood on his shirt, Andrea screaming...

He was shaken from the daze as Blair approached. "Man, you freaked me out! I didn't even see you walk over here. I heard the gun go off and thought the worst. Do me a favor and do NOT do that again." Blair looked at Jim's normally calm face and saw tension. "Hey Jim, you're gonna break a tooth clenchin' your jaw that hard. What's wrong?"

"Nothing Chief." Jim lied. "Come on, we've got work to do, partner." patting Blair on the back. Blair for his part could see that there was something seriously wrong with the older man, but now wasn’t the time to start prying. Maybe later...You’re not gonna get away that easily.

Jim and Blair walked over to Simon and Henry Brown, still holding the wallet. "You're gonna love this Jim."

"What's up Brown?" asked Ellison.

"Rosen had a few grams of cocaine in his pockets."

"So, we can get him for possession, too."

"Works for me, the more charges we can slap on him the better. You get an ID on the other guy?" Simon inquired turning to walk to the patrol cars.

Jim responded grimly, "Yeah, the infamous, Louis Watson." handing the wallet over to Simon. Jim and Henry followed leaving Blair to bring up the rear. Brown raised his eyebrows, "Funny, I recall him being deceased."

"WHAT? Dammit, doesn't anyone stay dead anymore?" grumbled Banks

"We only got that information from an anonymous tip, nothing says they were right." replied Brown.

Sandburg raised his hands up to stop the conversation before he got any further behind, "Wait guys, who is Louis Watson and why is he supposed to be dead?"

They had reached the truck and they climbed in. The rain that had been threatening all day finally started. Jim let out a long sigh, "I'll fill you in on the way, all right Chief?"

Ellison frowned at the memories being brought back. Andrea's screams...the blood. He shook it off. "About three years ago, a few months after Carol and I divorced, this case came up. Seemed like it would be open and shut. Something to get my mind back in gear. You see, Watson had been a hit man for the mob, the Rosen family to be exact. He’d been assigned to take out the head of the Giovanni family. Major crimes had received a tip on the two families beginning a war. So we went after the Giovanni’s and luckily found out about Watson’s little assignment. Jack and I stopped him from killing Giovanni, but he got away. Jack got hurt pretty bad during the bust."

Then he went silent. Blair looked over at his partner, it wasn't often that he talked about Jack when someone inquired, let alone voluntarily. Jim stared straight ahead at the wet streets. His jaw was clenching again. Blair knew the memories were haunting him, but what exactly? Surely not just Jack? No, this was something bigger. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

"Watson disappeared...decided to lay low. In the meantime we assumed he had been relieved of his employment with the Rosen family for his failure, if not killed." Jim turned into the garage at the station and parked the truck. "A few months later we received an anonymous tip that Watson was killed in Southeast Asia. Details were pretty fuzzy. How could we have checked?" He paused almost as if admitting defeat. "We were wrong, because here he is, alive and well in our custody." The story obviously over, Jim got out of the truck and headed for the elevators.

"No Jim, what really happened?" Blair knew there was something more to this story, something Jim wasn’t going to divulge easily. Blair had seen the wall go up before, every time he’d ask him about Peru.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about Chief. Now, can we drop it already?" Ellison shot back.

As they walked into the elevator, Sandburg pushed the seventh floor button. They arrived at the Major Crimes department and sat at Jim's desk to begin paperwork. Blair decided to push a little harder. "Jim, man, come on. Something’s bugging you and you know it." Blair instantly regretted prying into Jim’s life.

Jim’s ice blue eyes turned even colder. "OK, something is bugging me. He’s about 5’8" and has long brown hair...ring a bell?" Jim snapped.

"Jeez, sorry Jim." Blair put his hands up, and backed off.

"Are you gonna help me with this paperwork, or do I have to do it all myself?"

"Big guy, what would you do without me to do your work?" Blair asked sarcastically.

They sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon finishing paperwork for the arrest.

That night at the loft, things were quiet. Blair sat on the couch writing in his notebooks occasionally getting up to retrieve a textbook from his room. Jim on the other hand, stood at the balcony doors watching the rain stream down the glass. He wasn’t really paying attention to the rain, just looking past it. Thoughts were clouding his mind. What would it hurt to tell Sandburg? He should know about this, shouldn’t he? Blair looked up from his notes to check on his friend, who was staring off into space. He wondered what was going through that mind of Jim’s. It wasn’t easy to tell since he had his ‘stoic’ face on. Suddenly the phone on the coffee table rang, bringing Jim back to earth. Blair made a move to answer it, Jim got to it first.

"Ellison"

"Hey Jim, its Simon" he paused. "Jim, we have a problem. Watson escaped from his holding cell this evening."

"Shit! How the Hell did that happen?" he ran his hand over his close cropped hair and began pacing the floor.

"Look Jim, why don’t you come on down here and I’ll get you filled in. OK?"

"We’ll be down there in twenty" and he hung up the phone.

Blair walked over to Jim and grabbed his coat. "What happened?"

"Watson escaped from his holding cell tonight." Jim said in dismay.

*************************************

  One hour earlier....

"How am I supposed to pay it off man?" He said in desperation. Of all the times to bet on Green Bay.

"You’re screwed Daniels." the older officer chuckled.

"No shit Howard. After this, I’m through with gambling!" the young officer proclaimed, watching the older man leave. Of course he’d made that promise to himself a hundred times before. Each time, gambling to pay off a previous debt, only to dig himself a deeper hole. He sat back in his chair, wishing for a miracle. Or at least for someone stupid enough to let him borrow eight grand. He couldn’t ask anyone he worked with... since gambling is a misdemeanor after all. Oh well, he was better off than some of the losers who were in here tonight, he thought staring at one prisoner in particular.

God I hate holding cells. Hell, almost as much as I hate cops. He ran his hand over his slicked black hair, got up and walked up to the bars. Watson stared at the officer on duty at his desk. The young officer, easily in his early 20’s, stared back.

"You got a problem mister?" the officer asked.

"Come here kid." said the older man. 

"Whaddya think I am? Stupid?" the officer laughed.

"Nah, I just got somethin’ to ask you, that’s all."

Why the Hell not? The officer slowly got up from his desk and made his way to the holding cell. It had been a slow night. Only a couple of drunk homeless guys were in custody. He stood a reasonable distance in front of the bars and crossed his arms. "OK, what?"

"What would you do with five hundred grand, kid?"

The officer shrugged his shoulders and looked up at the man who stood a half a head taller. "I dunno, pay off some old debts, why?"

"Well I couldn’t help but overhear that you have a little problem there, Officer...." he paused to read the nametag. ... "Daniels. I think I can help you out of your little situation there. All you have to do is just one little thing."

******************************

Within fifteen minutes the Detective and his partner arrived at the station. Simon looked up from the paperwork at his two best men, noting the cold look in Jim’s eyes as they entered the office and sat down. He remembered seeing that look only a few times. The last was when he was about to throw Dawson Quinn down a mining supply shaft. Cold, unemotional, but you could tell he was hiding rage. Blair’s face on the other hand was an open book, concern mostly. But also a certain amount of distance. He isn’t telling the kid anything, just shutting him out. Damn, he must be more upset about this than I thought.

"What’s the situation Captain?" Jim asked maintaining his composure.

"Approximately thirty minutes ago Watson escaped. Not without somebody’s help I might add."

"I don’t get it, how would he get outside help IN the police station?" Blair questioned.

"Apparently we’ve got officers downstairs that can be bought. We just received the video tape from our surveillance cameras in the cells. Watch this." He retrieved the tape and placed it in the VCR. The first part showed the young officer speaking to the prisoner, Blair recognized him as Jake Daniels. He then walked away from the cell. Nothing too unusual about that. It was what happened after the Captain fast forwarded the tape that it began to get interesting. Blair watched in silence as Daniels returned with an older, white-haired officer. The two cops entered the cell and left the view of the camera. Moments later, Daniels and a much younger man in a cop uniform exited the cell and made their way out of the room. "That was his escape?" Blair was baffled by the simplicity of it. "Bring in a second officer, knock him out cold, take the uniform and the prisoner walks free?"

"It doesn’t have to be creative Chief, it just has to work." Jim said grimly.

"With the uniform on, nobody thought to question his credentials." the Captain fumed. I’ve got an APB out on officer Daniels and his car. A car matching his Camaro was spotted near the bus station. I’ve got Brown and Ryf on it now." Before he could say any more, the phone rang. "This is Banks .... where? .... OK, I’ll get someone on it." He hung up the phone. "OK boys, time to earn your paychecks."

Blair just looked at Simon and stifled a laugh.

"You know what I mean Sandburg. I need you two down at the old County Park. A ‘69 Camaro was spotted around there and some local residents reported gunshots."

"We’re on it sir."

"Jim, can I have a word with you?"

Blair took that as his cue to leave the office. As soon as the door was shut Simon began. "Should I even let you on this case Jim?"

"I’m 100 percent Simon." assured Ellison.

"Yeah I know, but can I trust you to do the right thing with Watson? I remember what you went through the last time, and I’m not sure you need that again." he said pulling a cigar from his pocket.

Ellison frowned for a moment and crossed the room toward the door. "I’m OK with this, Captain. This will be just like any other case." And he sincerely wanted to believe that.

Blair hated when he couldn’t be a part of these little moments with Simon. It made him feel like an outsider. Man even now, after all we’ve been through, bombings ...shootings ...kidnappings ...druggings ...OK that’s enough Sandburg! You’re depressing yourself! he thought scolding himself. He looked up at Simon’s office just as Jim was opening the door.

"You ready to go Chief?" Jim asked walking past his desk and towards the elevators. Blair had to jog to catch up to the detective.

"So what was that all about big guy?" Blair asked as they waited for the elevator car to arrive.

"Sandburg, do you just get off prying into my life?" Ellison asked teasingly cuffing Blair on the back of the head.

"Yeah well its either bug you or bug Simon." The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. "I think I’m less afraid of you man."

"Just remember, I know where you live, hippie." Jim muttered as the doors closed.

******************************

The rain from earlier in the day was now a heavy drizzle and a thick blanket of fog was beginning to roll in as they arrived at the old County Park. They got out of the truck and looked around the empty field save for a dim street lamp. Blair absently put a few damp ringlets of hair behind his ear. He remembered that the state fair had been held there a few years ago. Blair remembered goading Jim into going for some simple tests. He could still recall the spinning bright lights and the dizzying ride, and how it had been WAY too high up for his tastes. Ugh, he hated the Ferris wheel. Jim on the other hand had been making fun of Blair because he wouldn’t ride on the blasted contraption, especially since he had jumped out of an airplane already. But that was for a good cause. Simon and Daryl were way too important. But this!? No way....no how...nuh uh.. was he going to purposely put himself up that high, again. Nope. "So, any idea of what we’re looking for?" He asked, noting that there wasn’t any sign of a Camaro in the parking lot. 

"There are two sets of fresh footprints heading over to the barn, and only one returning." Jim said looking out into the darkness. Blair turned on the flashlight that he brought along, trying to pick out the prints for himself in the thickening fog.

"I’ll have to take your word for it man. I don’t even see a barn!" Sandburg said glancing up and noticing that the Sentinel was already fading into the fog. He followed, not wanting to be left behind in the empty field.

Jim’s sentinel senses were on full alert and his gun ready as they approached the aging structure. "Do you hear anything in there?" his guide whispered.

"I think its empty." he said looking at the two story building.

Cautiously he slid the heavy doors open to reveal the stale odor of manure and wet hay. The stench was almost enough to knock Blair over. He looked over to Jim who was grimacing and waving his hand in front of his face. "Jim, I’d tell you to filter out the smells you don’t want, but in this case I think its best to just turn off the smell thing man."

Jim turned down the dial on his sense of smell and began his search. He concentrated on his sight and looked around for anything obvious. Even in the blackness, Ellison could easily see the worn out wood panel walls, the dirt floor and high ceiling. He then made his way across the barn, carefully watching his step, towards a ladder leading up to the hay loft. He remembered his grandfather’s farm and how he and Stephen used to swing from a rope that hung from the ceiling and land in the pile of hay below. Recalling it was one of the few times he and his brother had gotten along as kids. It was amazing how much alike the barns were.

"Hey, are you zoning on me?" Blair asked putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder.

"Nah." he paused. "I think I’ll take a look up in the hay loft." He started up the ladder then stopped and looked at Blair who wasn’t moving. "Would you like to join me Darwin?" he said in good humor. 

"Yeah right. And maybe I’d like to jump off a bridge too! My feet are staying on solid ground, big guy." Blair declined bouncing on his toes.

"OK Chief, but you don’t know what you’re missing." the Detective taunted, as he made his way up the ladder.  

"I sure as Hell do." he muttered to himself, knowing full well that the Sentinel could hear.

Jim laughed and began searching the loft. Then he saw it, a small pool of dark liquid oozing out from underneath the hay. He immediately recognized it as blood. He began removing the hay covering, to find a man lying face down with four large puncture wounds in his back forming a straight line, and a fifth hole in the back of his head. He looked to the right of the victim to see a bloody discarded pitch fork. "Oh man."

"What is it Jim?"

"I found Daniels, looks like Watson skewered him with a pitch fork."

******************************

Chief Forensics Officer, Cassie Wells stepped over the body of Jacob Daniels. She knelt down to examine the puncture wounds in the light from the battery powered spot lights. It was fascinating how he had died. It wasn’t often that farm implements were used as murder weapons outside of the Midwest. This killing was brutal, as if the pitch fork wasn’t enough, the murderer put a hole in Daniels’ head with his own service revolver. Something is seriously wrong with people these days, she thought in disgust. Then, a small piece of paper in the victims back pocket caught her eye. Carefully she pulled it free to see it was a note folded in half. The outside was addressed to James Ellison. AW, Jim won’t mind if I just take a peek. She looked around to see if anyone was watching and unfolded the bill.

"What did you find Wells?" Detective Ellison asked.

Rats. Since when did he learn to read minds? She let out a sigh and handed the slip over unread. "You know Jim, you always seem to find a way to take the fun out of life."

The detective chose to ignore the comment and unfolded the note to read:

THE INNOCENT WILL PAY FOR THE CRIMES OF THE GUILTY ELLISON. HE WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES AGAINST ME, JUST LIKE THE WOMAN DID. PLEASANT DREAMS.

He folded the note back up and placed it into an evidence bag. He stayed silent for a long time, the muscles in his jaw clenching with anger. He paced the floor of the hay loft trying to keep his composure. Every scent, every sound was just as vivid as it had been that night. The smell of fresh blood tingled in his nose. She never should have paid with her life. If Watson hurts Blair, I swear I’ll kill him.

Cassie looked over to Ellison who had headed towards the ladder. She hadn’t seen him this upset before. Concerned with somebody’s welfare, yes, but truly upset...not really. He looked like hell, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. She abandoned the body and followed the detective "Jim, what’s wrong? You aren’t in your normally cheerful mood this evening." Cassie’s voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned around as if he hadn’t any idea of who had spoken to him. "Uh, nothing Wells." He placed the note in an evidence bag and handed it over to the forensic specialist. "Here, see what you can get off this."

"Sure Jim." She said watching the detective climb down the ladder. Then muttered under her breath "Whatever you say."

******************************

Captain Banks had just finished speaking with Detective Brown when Jim approached. "Brown just finished speaking to the local residents, and they said that the Camaro took off just after they had called in the gunshot. The trail has gone cold unless you’ve found anything?"

"Wells found a note in Daniels’ pocket. It was a warning for me." He ran his hand over his hair.

"What did it say?"

" ‘The innocent will pay for the crimes of the guilty’. Sir, I think Sandburg is his next target."

"Christ, at least he hasn’t changed his MO while he was ‘dead’. We’ll know what to expect." Banks then took a look at his friend. "Jesus Jim, you look like hell. Go home, get some rest." he said placing a hand on the weary detective’s shoulder.

 "Captain--"

"I don’t want to have to make that an order Ellison." Simon threatened not without some concern for his friend’s well being. "If anything important happens in the next six hours someone will call you. Now go. I’ll have someone posted outside the loft, OK?" 

Jim had to admit, he wasn’t feeling quite up to par. And with Watson loose and Blair in danger, he didn’t want to be asleep on the job. He owed Blair more than that. "Thanks Simon."

He left the Captain and made his way outside. The cool humid air was refreshing compared to the stale odors of the barn. Jim followed the sound of the familiar heartbeat to find his guide. He zeroed in and found him standing near his truck. Nothing Blair hated more than a dead body. It was a blessing that he hadn’t lost his humanity and "checked it at the door" like he once said. As Jim was passing by he overheard a group of officers talking about their now deceased co-worker. "Daniels was just a rookie, I don’t think he’d even been on the force more than a month." a uniformed officer stated. "Poor naive kid. Didn’t have a chance." commented another. "Remember what happened before? Ellison had the chance to take Watson out years ago. Why he didn’t, I’ll never know. Cause if he had, we wouldn’t have a cop killer on our hands." said the first officer.

"Hey Chief. I’m beat, you ready to go?"

God, Jim looks like Hell. "Yeah, I’m ready."

******************************

The morning began with Jim waking up late because Blair had forgotten to set his alarm. Of course he didn’t really sleep all that much anyway. When he got to the shower, there wasn’t any hot water left. Dammit Sandburg, he cursed. After dressing, he came back downstairs. Blair glanced up from the paper to see Jim’s grim mood. He opened his mouth to say something then quickly closed it and went back to the newspaper.

Oh boy, he’s really pissed today. Better not tell him were out of coffee or I’m a dead man.

"Where’s the damn coffee!" Jim cried out, looking up as if pleading for divine intervention. Oh this is going to be a great day. Instead he went to the fridge and grabbed some orange juice. He sat down at the table across from Blair.

"So what’s the plan for today." Blair cautiously asked as he was finishing up the sports section, handing it to Jim.

He paused to take a sip of juice and plan how to phrase his next statement. "Well first we’re gonna go have a talk with... an informant."

"Which one Jim?" Blair inquired, knowing full well that he could lose a new pair of shoes.

"After that, we’re going to go to lunch with Taggert, remember?" Jim said clearly dodging the question.

"Jim, which informant?" Yep, it’s Sneaks. Better find an old pair of shoes. God, he knows I can’t stand him.

"Oh the informant? The informant....yeah. Well, just wear an old pair of shoes, OK Chief?"

Blair went to his room and grabbed the oldest pair. When he returned, Ellison was putting on his jacket. Blair just glared at Jim, who was beginning to perk up just a little. Blair was feeling a slight headache starting from the lack of caffeine, Oh yeah, this is going to be a great day.

"Come on Chief, we gotta go lose you a pair of shoes." Jim said as he opened the loft door.

Blair followed suit "You know I hate him."

"That’s why I’m bringing you along."

******************************

"Oh man, she had the flashiest set of b--"

"Sneaks!" Jim and Blair said in unison.

"What? Birkenstocks!" he laughed nervously. Not that nervous was uncommon for him. He was just like a giant anxious ball of energy...with a fetish for shoes. Of course Ellison’s partner wore a hideous pair of Converse with a hole on one side of them. It was getting harder to find a decent pair from these guys.

Enough about Birkenstocks, Jim decided to steer the conversation to something a little more useful. "So what do you know about Louis Watson? 

"Watson? Oh man, he’s trouble! I would stay away from him you know." Sneaks began tapping his fingers on the table in front of them. Then looked around the restaurant as if he were about to give out the secret for world domination. When deeming the place safe, he leaned in towards the center of the table. "Word has it he pulled off this death scheme to hide from the mob...but you already know that huh? So I hear that he’s been a um, well an assassin since that screw up you were involved in. I also heard he’s not too fond of you. You gonna eat that?" he pointed at the sandwich that Blair had hardly touched. Instead of waiting for an answer, he reached across the table and took his prize.

"All yours." Blair said glaring at Jim, who just smiled. So maybe the guy had some useful information, but Sandburg was going to kill him if he didn’t stop tapping his foot. How could anyone stand someone so damn nervous? Oh wait, that’s like, ‘Hello kettle? This is the pot. You’re black!’ He sat back in the booth and thought of his mother’s favorite calming mantra. Ok, so I’m letting this go. Breathe in breathe out...Letting this go...letting this go...letting this go. This isn’t helping...I still hate him.

"Ok, so I think I heard about Watson taking off yesterday right? Um, he uh, he’s got this place he hangs out at. Its over on the east side of town. On like Benton street or something. He’s been running his little business out of some house out there. You might want to try it."

Jim looked at the informant who just shrugged his shoulders as if to say he was done. "Come on Ellison! That was some good stuff, right?"

The detective chuckled, pulled out his wallet, and paid the informant who left the restaurant. As Sneaks was leaving Blair waved goodbye and good riddance. When the partners were alone, Sandburg leaned in and asked, "Can I kill him? Really...I think I hate him more and more every time."

"Aw Chief, buck up. If you go and kill Sneaks, then I’m out a guide. And I’m not so sure that Simon is willing to take up where you’d leave off."

******************************

"I’m telling you, I don’t know where he is!" Joseph Rosen paused to light the cigarette in his shaking hands. "Hell, I haven’t seen him since he fucked up the Giovanni assignment."

"Then why was Watson after you?" Ellison questioned. Today was just getting worse and worse. Interrogating Rosen was certainly not the high point to his day. Besides that, Taggert had to cancel lunch due to a bomb threat at the municipal building.

"I don’t know, maybe he’s got a little grudge problem? What do you think I am, a damn psychic? I thought he was just as dead as you did, cop."

"Come on Rosen! You know more about him than his own mother. Spill it!" Banks chimed in.

"Fine." he took a drag off the cigarette. "Watson is fuckin’ crazy that’s what he is. He gets pissed easily. So he gets careless. That’s what happened with Giovanni. He got pissed at him" he said, pointing to Ellison. "...blew away his..." he paused to take another drag then began to laugh quietly. "Man, that was messed up. But that was his style, take out the innocent ones, just cause he thinks that you hurt the guilty so much more. Shit...I almost forgot about that." Rosen took another drag from his diminishing cigarette. "Then he got his ass caught yesterday? Shoot. I’m almost glad to be in here. Helluva lot safer to hide when Watson’s pissed. That was one of the two things I’d hated about that guy. Number one, he’s dangerous when he’s mad. And two, he hid from us for years, and we couldn’t catch him." He paused to smoke again. "But you know, while he did work for me, it got to the point that even if he was after someone I didn’t um, ‘have a problem with’, I knew exactly who the innocent one would be.

Simon looked at his best detective...wondering how he was handling the mention of ‘the incident’ yet again. And again Jim looked like he was going to rip the throat out of this guy.

"And that’s all you know?" Banks asked, as if the man was holding back. The last thing this man was, was trustworthy. For some odd reason, Simon believed him.

"Swear before Holy God."

Jim got up from his chair across from Rosen and paced the room. He slammed a fist against the wall out of frustration. "This is useless, he doesn’t know any more that I do."

"Alright, take him back to lock-up" the Captain grumbled, eyeing the infuriated detective. A uniformed officer entered the interrogation room and re-hand-cuffed the mob boss.

Blair had been leaning against the glass panel watching the event, not really sure of what he could add. Every fiber in his being knew Jim was hiding something that had to do with Watson, from him. He wanted to tie Jim up and force him to talk, but he knew there was NO way that would happen, unless.... But what was worse, Simon knew and was helping Jim hide it. Not that he expected the Captain to betray a confidence or anything.

As the officer escorted Rosen, he turned around and stared at Blair with piercing green eyes. "Sucks to be the innocent one, don’t it kid?" He then muttered "Yep, still got it." quietly while being led to the door Sandburg didn’t know why, but hearing him say that sent chills down his spine.

"Get him out of here" the Captain commanded. "I’ll see you two later. I have a quick meeting upstairs with Chief Warren." He explained and left the two in the interrogation room.

Blair grabbed Jim’s arm and stopped him from leaving as well. "Jim, what did he mean by that?"

"Simon always has meetings Sandburg." The detective teased.

Blair rolled his eyes "You know what I mean. Joey Rosen, what was that all about?"

"Beats me." he lied.

"Jiiiim, you know something..."

"God Blair, do you ever stop?" his voice in a low roar.

Blair jumped back, ready to let it go, when opportunity arose. He rushed over to the door and closed it. "No dammit, you’ve been stewing over something for like two days now. I’m sick of the attitude man!" He reached up with both hands pushing Jim back to the now vacant chair. "Sit down."

"What the Hell do you think you’re doing Sandburg?" Jim protested.

"SIT DOWN!" Blair commanded. He knew he was walking a fine line between living in a nice loft with a warm bed and living under the marquee at the movie theater downtown. God Sandburg, do you ever stop digging into his life? Isn’t enough that you know his PIN number? You’re lucky he doesn’t just kick your ass out on the streets. Silently he prayed he was doing the right thing. "What’s going on with you man?"

Jim opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and looked at Blair, who was still standing in front of him. "It’s a long story Chief. Do you really want to know?" Considering Blair’s life is officially in danger, he should be told. It’s no longer whether he wants to know, its that he has to know, Ellison.

Blair sat in the chair next to his friend. His voice softened, "Jim whatever is bothering you is important to me. Of course I want to know."

Jim let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he had been holding. Of all the people to resurrect himself, why did it have to be Louis Watson? Of course the alternatives weren’t any more pleasant. Lord knows he didn’t need David Lash coming back from the dead. "You remember me telling you about Watson’s operation yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"At the time I was dating a woman, her name was Andrea Grayson...she was a clerk at the DA’s office. She was everything Carolyn wasn’t." he fell silent for a moment. "It was my night off. I thought a nice candlelight dinner would change the pace since I’d been so busy. Somehow, Watson found out where she lived. He busted into her house and started shooting the place up."

Blair could already see where this story was going, maybe he shouldn’t have pried so hard. "Woah, Jim you don’t--"

"No Chief." Ellison cut him off, "Its about time I talked about it."

The younger man could see the tense expressions on Jim’s face, even though he didn’t need to. Pain and anger was flowing freely in his voice.

"We had just finished dinner and were cleaning up when the doorbell rang. I had gone to the bedroom to get something, so Andrea answered the door...she had no idea that there could be anybody after me. When she opened the door, the son of a bitch pushed her down and shot her in the waist." His voice was shaking with barely contained rage. "I heard the shot and ran out into the living room to find her on the floor, bleeding everywhere...and she was screaming... Watson knew the wound wasn’t fatal so he shot her again in the neck. Her screams stopped. Blair, it was the most sickening silence I've ever heard. I ran over to her, but there was nothing I could do for her." He could recall the smell of blood again, tingling in his nose. Pouring from her body in to his hands and soaking her hair.

"All I could hear was Watson saying that this was a warning, and if I ever messed with him for anything...ever...I would be next. Then he said something I will never forget... I was holding her in my arms...she couldn't breathe and the blood was..." Then a flash across his mind of lifeless brown eyes staring at nothing. Jim stopped for a long moment to gain composure, only to remember Watson standing in the doorway to the house smiling at him. "He said, that the innocent will pay for the crimes of the guilty."

How long had he been pinning this up inside, not talking to anyone about it, Sandburg wondered. The phrase rang in his head like a mantra. What Rosen had said before was finally beginning to make sense.

Jim slammed a fist down on to the table. "He’s out there, and I know who his next target is."

Sandburg looked to Jim and was about to ask who Watson was after, when it dawned on him. "Me? He’s after me right?" This is NOT fair! Why am I the target of every psycho in the world? It must be written in HUGE letters on my face, ‘Please kidnap and torture me cause I’M the target!!’ "This really sucks man."

"I know, I’m sorry." Jim apologized as if he could hear Blair’s thoughts.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?" hurt creeping into his voice.

"There wasn’t any reason to, until now. I should have when Cassie found the note in his pocket." Jim looked at Blair, who’s eyes were as big as saucers. Why didn’t I tell him before?

"Note? What note?" Blair’s jaw dropped open, stunned that his sentinel and best friend had kept him in the dark. "What, do you not think I can handle it Jim? Is that it?" The hurt was giving way to anger. "You know, I am 28 years old...I think that qualifies as a big boy!" He got up and begin to pace the room. "For the past two days you’ve been moping around and could have told me and gotten this all out into the open. BUT no, you sit there all stoic and think that you’re doing me a favor. You know what? You’re NOT! You expect me to just sit back in blessed ignorance? I’m the one in danger Jim!"

Blair was talking so fast and his hands were flapping around Jim was afraid he would hurt himself. But he remained quiet, knowing that Sandburg just needed to get this off his chest.

"I’m just sick of this! Sick of being this little like, child that you need to come along every other day and save!" Blair stopped and the anger seemed to fade just as quickly as it appeared. He slumped back into the chair and hunched over so his forehead was resting on the table. "For once I wish they would leave ME alone." he said quietly.

"I know Chief, I know." Jim placed a comforting hand on his guide’s back. "You know that if I could change things, I would." Please don’t let this be what puts him over the edge. Please don’t let him say, ‘That’s it man, I’m out! Let your whole city go to Hell, I DON’T CARE!’ OH God, if he leaves, I’m lost.

"Jim, I understand, I’m just a little ticked, that’s all. I’ll get over it. Don’t worry." he looked up, reading the concerned expression on Jim’s face. "Let’s get out of here." He probably thinks I’m gonna wig out and leave. No way, we’ve come too far to let some psycho screw this all up.

The two friends left the confines of the interrogation room and headed back to Major Crimes.

"Whaddya say we go check out Benton street, partner?" Jim’s concerns ebbing away.

"Sounds like a plan." Blair said, giving one of those million dollar smiles. "Just one problem."

"Oh yeah? What’s that?" Ellison said sitting in his desk chair.

"Where do we begin? I haven’t exactly spent much time on that side of town and all, but I mean, there’s like twelve blocks of Benton street full of houses. Besides, we don’t even know if he’s IN a house. There’s like warehouses and apartments all over."

Jim responded by pulling out a map of the city from the filing cabinet behind him. "Well, I guess we’re just going to have to narrow it--" The phone rang. "Ellison."

"What’s taking you so long Detective? I thought you’d have found me by now. You did get my little love note didn’tya?"

"What the Hell do you want Watson." He looked over at Blair, who had run over to an empty desk and was already calling the communications room for a trace.

"Oh, not much. Just to see that piece of shit you work with, die unexpectedly. But that I can remedy." He let out a low laugh. "Oh yeah, you’ve seen my work before haven’tcha. What was her name? Anna? Andrea? Whatever. But the real prize would be to take the ‘great’ detective Ellison himself."

"You listen to me Watson, I’m gonna find you--"

"Oh stuff it Ellison. You think that you can find me? I already know that you were told about Benton street. Your friend, shoe-boy told me everythin’ shortly before he uh, expired. And that trace you got goin’ is gonna turn up nothing."

"Sneaks? You sonofabitch!"

"You didn’t even realize I was there, did ya? Well okay, I wasn’t inside the restaurant, but I was in the vicinity. That’s the thing about being a hit-man. You get all sorts of neat toys to screw your victims over with. Well I need to get going. Don’t you worry about finding me, you just sit tight. I’ll find you." The line went dead.

************************************

Then there was silence. Jim hung up the telephone, not really sure of what to do, so he stood there staring at the map on his desk. Watson had killed Sneaks, that much was apparent. A sick feeling was turning pit of his stomach. How could I have let it go this far? Two people are dead because of me. He wanted to rip Watson’s throat out with his bare hands.

Blair hung up the phone shaking his head at the failure of the trace. His partner looked like he was going to snap. Placing a reassuring hand on Jim’s shoulder he quietly asked, "Jim, what did Watson say?"

"He got Sneaks," he answered through clenched teeth.

Blair expected threats, but this? Sneaks had never hurt anybody, as far as he knew. "Oh my God," his jaw dropping open. Blair had never liked the man, even though he’d joked about killing him, he never meant it. "We have to find him," he said running a hand through loose curls.

Jim felt the beginnings of a first class headache. The idea of looking for the corpse of anyone, let alone someone he knew, was not the high point of his day. And I thought interviewing Rosen was bad. "Yeah, he had an apartment about four blocks from the restaurant. Let’s check there first," he reluctantly agreed.

The ride across town was quiet at best. Neither one spoke, only stared ahead at the rain covered streets. Jim’s knuckles had long ago turned white from the death grip he had on the steering wheel and his jaw muscles were tense. He parked the truck in front of the run down tenement. Walking through the broken front door, they made their way up the stairs to the apartment. His gun ready and senses on full alert. Even from the stairwell Jim could pick up the metallic scent of blood.

Blair followed closely. When they reached the door he asked in a whisper. "Is he in there?"

Hearing nothing, Jim reached out to check the door, finding it unlocked. "You might want to stay out here Chief," the smell of blood was so intense he was dreading what would be found. Blair nodded his head in agreement. Slowly Ellison entered the room to discover Sneak’s body in the middle of the room laying face up, his throat slashed. Lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. He had obviously been beaten before he was killed. A cut above his right eye left a trail of dried blood down his pale white face and past his jaw, which was visibly broken. After re-holstering the gun Jim pulled out his cell phone.

Blair made the mistake of taking a curious peek into the apartment. "Oh my..." was all he was able to get out as he caught sight of the body. Jim turned around ushering Blair down the hall and handing the phone to him to call Simon. A futile effort to distract the more sensitive man from the scene.

Reentering the apartment the detective closed the door half-way finding a note, pinned with the murder weapon. What is it with this guy and notes anyway? He read:

WATSON 3, ELLISON 0
YOU KNOW JIMMY, I’M BEGINNING TO REALIZE WHAT’S REALLY IMPORTANT...I WANT REVENGE,
AND YOU WANT REVENGE. PROBABLY SO BAD YOU CAN TASTE IT, HUH?
LET’S END THE GAME TONIGHT AT THE CASCADE RESERVOIR 10:00
COME ALONE OR YOU SIGN THE LITTLE BASTARD’S DEATH WARRANT.
I'LL BE THERE, WILL YOU?

"I'll be there you son of a bitch," he said to the empty apartment. Hearing the sirens in the distance, Jim decided to wait with Blair outside the room. Pulling the note free, he left. There was nothing else he could do...or that he wanted to do. Jim stifled a yawn feeling the mental exhaustion creeping up on him. The lack of sleep the night before had left his eyes burning. He was beginning to get sick of this emotional rollercoaster ride he had been on.

Blair leaned against the dirty wall outside the room waiting for his friend. He watched the taller man walk out, his shoulders slumping, just slightly. Most people wouldn’t have noticed...but Blair knew. This must be taking a toll on him. With a friend and a girlfriend killed by this psycho, how much can a guy take? Man he looks like crap again. "Jim, you OK?"

He looked down, pinching the bridge of his nose, a sure sign he was lying. "I'm fine Sandburg. Just a little tired." No way was Blair going to play mother hen with him today.

"You sure?" he asked just wanting a little reassurance.

"This time, I'm sure."

They turned hearing footsteps coming up the stairwell. Simon rounded the corner being the first to arrive, a team of officers following on his heels. "I was in the neighborhood when the call came in. What do we have gentlemen?"

"DB in the apartment, beaten and throat slashed. He was one of my informants that helped us out on the Golden incident. I also found another note. Watson wants to meet me."

"Where?" Simon and Blair chorused.

"At the Cascade Reservoir, 10:00 tonight," Absently handing the note to his Captain.

The Captain checked his watch finding five hours left. Plenty of time to organize a team and stake out the Dam. "Ok, I'll have back up go with you."

"No sir, he wants to meet me alone, otherwise he'll hurt Sandburg. I'm not willing to take that risk."

"But you're willing to risk yourself? Jim, we can have Blair under protection, Watson won't touch him. I'll have a team standing by near the Dam."

Blair looked up at the two men determined to get his way. A team of forensics officers brushed past them. Blair stepped in closer to the two men so he could speak without the wrong people hearing. "No way Simon, he needs me out there. Look, Jim is under a lot of stress right now...he's primed for a zone out. I have to be there."

The Captain’s volume matched the anthropologists. "It's too dangerous for you to be there Sandburg. Hell I'm having trouble letting Ellison go on this one, let alone a civilian."

Ellison pulled Blair down the hallway away from Banks. "Chief, I can handle this on my own. If you're there, it not only makes you a better target, but also I'm gonna worry."

"If you zone, who's going to bring you out of it? Watson? Maybe with a bullet to your head? I'm going to be there," he stated looking at his partner. Looking back over his shoulder to the Captain, "I'm going to be there Simon."

There was no way he was going to win this one, and he really didn’t have the energy to argue with the anthropologist. "Oh Hell, on one condition. You will have a team within a mile of the dam. Got it?"

"Got it," the two replied in unison.

Thick fog made its way inland as Jim parked the truck at the Reservoir. "Stay in here. We’re an hour early. I’m just going to check it out and I’ll come right back." he said quickly before his partner could protest. "Give me ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Blair checked his watch in the dim light of the truck cab. "Fine. One minute later and I’m calling Simon." he watched the detective check the clip to his gun and reload it.

"Deal." Ellison got out of the truck quietly shutting the door behind him.

Blair tried one more bit of persuasion, "Of course I can’t exactly help you if I’m in here."

Jim turned and gave his partner a warning look in the darkness, then began a sweep of the area starting with the surrounding woods then up the hill to the dam. The water being released blocked out small sounds. The cascades of water crashing in his ears, getting louder yet quieter. He could feel his breathing gradually slow. Then he recognized the beginning signs of a zone out and forced himself back to the present, dialing down his hearing. Great Ellison, zone out before you even get two hundred feet from the truck. Just what you need.

Opting for a visual scan instead, he cautiously he made his way up the path onto the dam itself, looking for booby traps or tripwires. One thing about Watson was that he was so unpredictable. No tactic was below him.

He checked his watch again for the ninth time in as many minutes. "You have one minute left Jim," he said to the empty truck, hoping his friend could hear over the rushing water. I don’t like this...not one bit. He leaned back in his seat, his head resting on the window. It was stupid to come out here early without back up. Even he knew that. To Hell with one minute. Blair pulled the phone off the dashboard and hit the speed dial to Simon’s cell phone.

"Banks."

"Simon, its Blair. Jim and I are at the Cascade Reservoir."

"WHAT? Dammit Sandburg, I told you two to go out there with a team!"

"I know I know. There’s just one problem. Jim is a few minutes late returning to the truck...I’m worried."

"I’ll have someone out there in ten...just sit tight Sandburg."

"Okay sir," he hung up the phone. "Great, just great," he said to no one in particular. Watson better not show up early...or we’re in trouble. Come on Jim, where are you? The windows to the truck were beginning to fog up. He pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe away the condensation. Pressing his hand to the glass, the door swung open, rather it was pulled open. Suddenly he was face to face with a man he’d never seen before. The man reached out grabbing his shirt at the neck pulling him out of the truck, in the other hand was a gun pressed against his temple.

"You say a word and you die right here."

The fog was turning into a heavy mist. Despite the weather, Jim could make out the hillside he had just come up, the truck was just out of sight. The grounds were empty, or so he assumed not being able to hear anything but the rushing water below. Checking his watch close to fifteen minutes had passed since leaving the truck. Crap, I’m late. Jim crossed the dam heading back to the truck, as there was no need to send Blair into a mad panic because he was late.

Ellison gingerly made his way down the hill nearly slipping in the mud. As the truck came back into view he extended his sight to check on his friend. The passenger door was wide open. Shit, he’s gone! Where the Hell did he run off to? A familiar voice called out from the dark woods.

"I told you to come alone Ellison. You just don’t learn do you?" The voice, getting more distant.

Jim spun around to find the source of the yell, from somewhere up the hill. "Let him go Watson!" His answer was a gunshot nearly catching him in the foot. He took off in a mad dash for cover, finding it off the trail behind a boulder. He peered around the rock in search of his friend’s captor. Finally spotting him wearing night vision goggles, practically dragging Blair up the hill to the dam, gun in hand. Jim aimed the gun, trying to get a clear shot only to have his guide's head in the way. He needed to get closer without being seen, which proved to be harder than he thought.

The sentinel crouched down making himself as small of a target as possible. Slowly he came out from behind the boulder careful to stay out of the openness of the trail. Using the redwoods as cover he could make his way up the hill to the dam and to his partner. Fifty yards from where Watson had taken Blair, was an open space. If he could sprint across, maybe he could take out Watson. Jim took a deep breath and started across the field.

The gun pressing into his temple was beginning to give him a headache. Watson had his arm wrapped around the front of Blair, using him as a shield. He knew Jim was out there somewhere. Where could he be? The fog and darkness was making it impossible to see anyone approaching. Watson had no trouble with the goggles on. Blair could feel his captor remove the gun from his temple.

"Ah ha, now you’re mine," he whispered aiming into the darkness.

Blair realized what was happening and made a lunge backward, throwing Watson off balance just as the gun went off. They were both sent reeling backwards onto the concrete sidewalk of the dam. Blair scrambled to his feet desperate to get to Jim only to have Watson reach out, grabbing his pant cuffs. His feet pulled out from under him, sending him face down onto the concrete. Turning over, he gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of him from the impact. Watson crawled over to the younger man, ready to blow his brains out.

Jim slowed down nearing the cover of the trees once more. He could clearly see his guide and Watson, his gun aimed straight for him. Feeling the impact of the bullet a split second before hearing the gunshot. He collapsed to the ground, his side aching. Jim allowed his hand to feel the wound, warm blood flowing between his fingers.

Still clutching his side in effort to stop the bleeding and the searing pain, Jim struggled to his feet. Staggering up the hill to the Dam he caught sight of his partner, one arm over the ledge, Watson dangling from it. He shook his head to rid the deafening ringing in his ears. Black spots began to invade his vision and the ground in front of him began to rise upward. His head felt heavier than it should as he watched the ground come towards his face. Little explosions of pain taking over every move he made. Let him go Chief...he’ll kill you...he’ll-- then blackness.

"You little shit! Do you know what you’ve done?" Watson loomed over Blair, his gun trained on the younger man.

In one swift move Blair thrust his leg out to the side catching Watson in the knees knocking him off balance, dropping the gun near the ledge. Blair kicked once more sending him to the ground. Spotting his gun, he lunged to retrieve it, Blair doing the same. Watson slid too far and was sent under the railing and over the edge. At the last minute he grabbed on to Blair’s extended hand. Blair slid forward, the weight of the larger man pulling him closer to the edge.

Watson held on with both hands to Blair’s arm. "Oh God, don’t let me die," he shouted out to be heard over the rushing water below. "Don’t let me die!"

Blair looked down at the man who may have killed his best friend, disgusted with what he saw. I should let go, you waste of life. Every muscle in his arm threatened to give out. It would be so easy to let go and watch you die. NO! I won’t sink to your level. Blair’s fingers digging into the concrete trying to keep himself from sliding any further over the edge.

Still sliding forward, he realized he couldn’t pull up the larger man on his own. An instant later, two pairs of arms reached over Blair, grabbing Watson and pulling him to safety.

"Blair! Are you okay? Where’s Jim?" Banks asked helping Sandburg to his feet, moving out of the way of the two officers cuffing Watson and dragging him to a patrol car.

"I’m fine. Wait, you mean you haven’t found him?" The guide asked in desperation.

"No." The Captain replied aiming the flashlight into the woods hoping to catch a glimpse of the detective.

Blair muttered a curse, trying to remember where Watson had aimed his gun. "This way," he grabbed the flashlight and took off running towards the clearing near the dam. Spotting his friend lying unconscious in the mud he yelled back to the officers following him, "He’s here!" Kneeling next to his injured sentinel, Blair began applying pressure to the wound. Blood had soaked Jim’s shirt completely. "Jim, can you hear me? Jim? You’ve gotta wake up man!" No response. "Jim, wake up dammit!" You can’t die on me...you can’t let that bastard win. The paramedics arrived and Blair was pulled out of the way by Simon.

"Let them do their work...he’s gonna be okay," the older man soothed.

"Yeah...yeah. He always is," he closed his eyes, silently praying that he would be right.

The water was so warm, he floated there for what seemed like forever. The darkness was so peaceful, so serene. "Jim?" A calming voice plunged into the dark pool enveloping him. Go away...I just wanna sleep a little longer...

"Jim, man its time to wake up," the voice persisted and grabbed on to his hand.

Not yet... Slowly the darkness faded and the warm floaty feeling wore off. He opened his eyes bright lights overhead sent a shooting pain behind his eyes.

"Dial it down Jim." the voice whispered.

Doing as he was instructed, he opened his eyes once more realizing that the only light in the room was the dim light of the hospital hallway.

"Hey big guy, welcome back, I was worried about you," a hand placed on his shoulder.

Jim looked up to see the beaming face of his guide, a small bruise on his temple. "What happened? You look like Hell Chief."

He smiled at the ironic comment. "Watson shot you, but you’re going to be ok."

Finally recalling the events and the image of Watson dangling over the edge of the dam. "Chief, are you--" He tried to sit up only to recoil in pain.

Blair placed a restraining hand on his partner to keep him down. "I’m fine," he reassured, surprised that he had managed to escape with only a few bruises and a pulled muscle in his arm.

"Watson?"

"He’s in custody Jim." a voice piped in from the doorway. The Captain strolled into the room and over to the bed.

Jim frowned. He had hoped that by some small chance Blair let him go over the edge.

"I take it you’re not happy with the results of your little adventure?" Simon asked.

"He deserved to..." Jim stopped short of saying the words, wondering what kept Blair from killing the man.

"Jim, you have to understand something. I could have let him die...I mean, its not like the thought didn’t cross my mind. When he was hanging there, I realized that I couldn’t sink to his level. I couldn’t do it."

Simon spoke up in Blair’s defense, "He did the right thing Jim, you know that."

"Yeah I know. I just wanted...I don’t know."

"Retribution for Andrea’s death?" Blair offered, unsure if Jim was trying to hint that he blamed his guide.

"Maybe." Jim yawned, still exhausted from the ordeal.

"You both should rest. Come on Blair, I’ll drive you home." Banks suggested.

"I’m gonna stay here," he stated, wanting to find out how Jim felt about him saving Louis Watson.

"Chief...go. I’m fine." Jim gave that warning look again.

He glanced back an forth at the two men, knowing that there wasn’t any amount of arguing that would keep him here. Blair raised his hands in defeat. "Sheez. I’m going I’m going," following the Captain out of the hospital room. He reached the door and lingered, looking back at his friend.

He’s giving me the abused puppy look again. God he probably thinks I blame him or something, like the kid needs a guilt trip. "Hey Chief, you know, I don’t blame you or anything."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes Blair, really. You did the right thing...I’m proud of you."

"Thank you Jim, hearing that makes me feel...better. Now will you go to sleep? You look like Hell!" he laughed and hurried out of the room.

"When I get home Sandburg!" he threatened to the retreating form, laughing despite the pain in his side. "When I get home." he said once more, and quickly fell asleep.

THE END