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A Dirty Cop                
by Kikkimax
 

Blair wandered into the gym and sat on the end of the weight bench his partner had just finished with and sighed. "Hey, Jim."

"Tired?" Jim asked as he wiped his face with a towel.

"Not too bad," Blair lied and lay back on the bench to play with the weights, both feet firmly planted on the ground. "How much have you got on here?" he asked as he tentatively pushed against the bar.

"Enough," Jim said as Blair grunted with effort as he actually tried to lift the weight. Jim spotted him and helped him push the weights up and back down one time. He placed the bar back on the rack with a grin. Even dead tired, Blair couldn't leave anything alone. "You didn't have to come get me. I could have taken a cab. I know you had a rough week."

"Not a problem, man. You drive me around enough when the Volvo is in the shop," Blair said, still reclining on the bench. "Don't worry, I've got two weeks to recuperate now that finals are over."

"Okay, if you say so. Sorry I wasn't ready when you got here. I wasn't expecting you so soon. I'll skip the shower and get dressed. Why don't you wait in the bullpen?"

"Nah, I'll just lay here and rest my eyes. Go ahead and wash your funky butt," Blair replied, already on his way to dreamland.

"Is that how you made it the last two days without ever touching a bed? Cat naps?" Jim asked.

"Mmmm..." Blair murmured in his sleep.

"That's amazing," Jim shook his head and laughed to himself as he headed for the showers.

Vance Chavez finally found his intended victim, fast asleep on a bench in the gym. He had been looking for him for almost half an hour. Sandburg was out cold, with none of his over protective buddies in sight. This was too good to be true. He had hoped for a small confrontation of some type, just enough to piss Ellison off. Not that he really had anything against Sandburg. But the kid was an easy target, too easy to pass up. He fit some of the stereotypes that policemen were known for hating, all in all, the perfect fall guy. And the way Ellison hovered over him actually made it all the more easy. Every fall guy needs an accomplice. 

Chavez had started the set up months ago, subtly pushing the kid, leering, starting rumors. Ellison had made it clear then that Chavez should stay away from Sandburg, and what he would do if he didn't. Now all that was left to do was put Ellison over the top and make him carry through with the old threat. When Ellison lost it publicly, the set up would be complete. Creeping up to the head of the bench, he quietly lifted the bar with a grunt, surprised by the heft of it, and lowered it to within a couple of inches of the sleeping man's torso.

"Sandburg, wake up," Chavez hissed and dropped the bar onto Blair's chest.

"Hey!" Blair tried to shout, but couldn't get any air behind the word. He searched Chavez's face with alarmed, angry eyes as he struggled to get oxygen past the heavy bar, pushing against it with both hands.

"How ya doin', pretty boy?" Chavez tormented, as he held the bar down. "Where's your buddy tonight? I didn't think he ever let you out of his sight."

"Get off me, you prick!" Blair managed through clenched teeth.

Chavez added his own weight to the bar and grinned wickedly, enjoying the obvious pain and fear on the younger man's face. When Sandburg looked like he might actually pass out he pulled the bar up and onto the rack, with a lot of effort, almost dropping it on the way up.

"You be sure and tell Ellison about this," he whispered ominously, glancing at the locker room door. He wanted to be in a public place when Ellison retaliated. He needed lots of witnesses, so he ducked out of the empty gym and headed for Vice's bullpen.

Blair gasped for air and rolled to the floor, landing on his knees and rested his arms and head on the bench.

"Blair? What's wrong?" Jim called out a minute or so later as he came out of the locker room, picking up the harsh respirations from across the room. He quickly trotted over and knelt beside his friend. "Tell me you didn't try to lift that by yourself," he said taking in Blair's sweaty, red face.

When Blair glanced up at his worried partner, Chavez's name was on the tip of his tongue. "Yeah, pretty dumb, huh?" he rasped out instead. 

There had been quite a stir after the incident with Chavez and Jay Brady. Blair could only imagine the uproar if Jim found out that Chavez had physically attacked him. In fact, he was afraid of what his blessed protector might do. It wouldn't be pretty. And Jim would probably get himself in some deep shit over it. Chavez wasn't worth it, so Blair clamped his mouth shut. Besides, if Chavez wanted Jim to know about it, there was something dirty about the whole thing.

"Chief, you never lift weights without someone to spot you," Jim lectured as he felt along Blair's chest and ribs. "Did it hit you?" Blair shook his head no and tried not to recoil when Jim touched the tender area across his breastbone. "If you want to try lifting, then let me know and I'll work with you, but don't ever try something like that alone. Do you know how long it took me to work up to that much weight?"

Blair released a short burst of nervous laughter. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to the brain, too many hours without sleep, or just the realization that Chavez actually could have killed him, but Blair couldn't stop himself. He lay back on the floor and shook his head again. "No, Jim, I definitely do not want to try lifting," he said at last.

Blair let Jim drive home. He was still a little shaky, but covered it by saying that he was tired. He really was. The last two weeks he had been on a killer schedule, but as usual, it had all eventually worked itself out. And all he'd had to sacrifice was sleep.

"You sure you're ok?" Jim asked, breaking Blair's train of thought.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Blair said, unconsciously rubbing his chest. "I think I'll just hit the sack when we get home."

"When's the last time you ate?"

"I had lunch," Blair assured, glad that he had someone to look out for him.

Chavez waited for well over an hour, but hurricane Ellison never struck. Maybe Sandburg had really been hurt and they had gone to the hospital. No, something like that would have hit the grapevine immediately. Surely the little shit had told him. Why wouldn't he? It was assault, straight up. Ellison would tear the door off the hinges to get at him if he had to. Or he would have a couple of months ago. Maybe he had misjudged the relationship. Or maybe it had changed since Brady left town. Too bad Brady wasn't still around. At least Chavez could have counted on a little reprisal from that one. And it wouldn't have bothered Chavez a bit to watch the cowboy go down in flames.

Everything had been ready to go, all they needed was the fall guy. When the observer hadn't come to the station at all today, Chavez had nearly panicked. After he calmed down, he thought to sabotage Ellison's truck, certain that he would call Sandburg for a ride. And he did. As soon as Sandburg had shown up, the plan had been put into action. But now, either Ellison didn't know or didn't care about his attack on Sandburg. It was too late to stop, however. He hoped that everyone remembered how protective Ellison used to be of the kid. The plan depended on it.

Sandburg fell asleep almost immediately when his head hit the pillow. Jim stood in the door of his room and watched him breath for a minute, noting that Blair's chest didn't rise and fall as much as usual, somewhat amazed when he realized that he actually knew what the usual level of sleeping breath was for his friend. So he watched Blair sleep from time to time. Nothing so unusual about that, he told himself. That's what blessed protectors did and it was all right. As long as the watchee never found out about it. Tonight the pattern seemed kind of stilted, almost as if Blair was guarding against deep breaths in his sleep, breathing more shallow to avoid pain.

Stealthily Jim made his way to the side of the bed and peeled up Blair's T-shirt, knowing an earthquake wouldn't wake him tonight. Sure enough, there was a linear bruise forming across the hairy chest. Jim bit back his anger. He thought that the bar had hit Blair, and yet Blair had denied it. Looking closer, he realized that the mark was perfectly symmetrical. When the weights fell, one side or the other should have hit first, making the bruise larger on that side, theoretically. And the bar had been back on the rack. How could Blair manage to put it back up if it had fallen on him? It was heavy, even for Jim. The bar would have still been on his chest or, more likely, on the floor when he found him. Something didn't add up. Jim decided not to wake his less than truthful partner. He'd find out the real story in the morning.

"Ellison," Jim said as he answered the phone on the second ring.

"Jim, I need you to come to the station." The urgency in Simon's voice quickly pushed Jim to wake up. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after five, kind of early for a Saturday. "Do you know where Sandburg is?"

"Yeah, he's downstairs asleep," Jim answered with some concern as the conversation apparently was going downhill.

"Are you sure?"

"Simon, he's snoring like a freight train. Even you could hear him. What's going on?"

"Just come on in. I'll explain when you get here."

"Do you want me to bring Sandburg? He's really exhausted. I'd like to let him sleep."

"That's probably the best thing right now," Simon answered cryptically.

"I'm on my way." Jim quickly dressed and strapped on his holster as he descended the stairs. He stopped by the bathroom long enough to pee, brush his teeth, and run an electric razor that he kept for just such emergencies over his face. Blair never stirred as Jim stepped into his room to straighten out the tangled covers before heading out the door, nearly tripping over Blair's backpack on the way out.

Simon looked bleak as he handed the grateful detective his first cup of coffee. "Someone broke into the evidence room last night and made off with more than a quarter of a million dollars worth of drugs," Simon explained. "Whoever took the stuff knew all the combinations and probably had a key. Nothing was broken except for the video camera."

"The Dover bust?" Jim asked.

"That and others. They took all the heroin from the Dover bust, plus all the cocaine and any other party drugs that were in storage. They knew how to get in and where to find the goods."

"Sounds like an inside job," Jim said. "Let's go over the video feed. Maybe the thief was careless and got his picture taken."

"I've already looked at the tape. That's why I called you. You're not going to like this." Simon picked up the remote from the table and pushed play. A black and white picture showed Sandburg walk up to the counter carrying a bag and glance up at the camera nervously before the tape went blank.

"Blair didn't steal any drugs," Jim said immediately, his jaw set firmly. "That's not even what he was wearing last night."

Simon held up a ziplock baggie that contained two long, brown hairs. Jim swept the bag briefly with his eyes. He had no doubt whose head the hairs came from. "It's a set up, Simon. It has to be."

"Where was Sandburg last night between 7:30 and 8:00?"

"He was here. With me in the gym."

"Did anyone else see him?"

"I'm sure somebody saw us leave. I was the last one there and Sandburg came to pick me up."

"You were with him the whole time?"

Jim frowned. "He showed up around a quarter to eight. Then I went to take a shower and he stayed out in the gym."

"That's not good. They can say he took the drugs, changed clothes and still had time to get from the evidence room down to the gym."

"You know Blair didn't steal anything."

"I know that, Jim. I'm just playing devil's advocate here. He's certainly smart enough to pull it off if he wanted to. He knows procedure, and he probably knows when there's not a clerk down there."

"Who is taking the case?" Jim asked, suddenly apprehensive.

Simon sighed and looked at his hands. "First it was ours, but now...official it will be Vice handling it along with IA, working under the assumption that it is an inside job." He looked up seriously, "Chavez will be taking the lead, but he's not here yet. I have to hand over all the evidence by 7:30 this morning. Nobody else knows about the tape yet."

"Run it again," Jim said, wanting to get down to business as soon as possible. If Chavez was involved, Blair didn't have a fair chance.

"We need to make a copy of our own," Simon suggested. "I'm sure that once the tape has been seen that Major Crime will be ordered to back off completely."

Jim turned back to the TV screen as Brown and Rafe entered the room.

Groaning as he rolled over, Blair woke up very aware of the vise-like pressure in his chest. Breathing hurt. The memory of Chavez standing over him jolted him fully awake. He listened for signs that Jim had heard him, but the loft was quiet. Lurching out of bed with a grunt, he stumbled to the bathroom, pulling off his T-shirt as he went. At the mirror he studied the purple mark that ran from shoulder to shoulder. He should have told Jim what happened. This wasn't a harmless prank or simple hazing. 

If Chavez treated a police observer this way, how did he treat suspects? Or the people he had sworn to serve and protect? Blair decided with a grimace that he would have to tell Jim. Since almost twelve hours had passed, and Jim wouldn't have immediate access to Chavez, Blair felt a little more at ease spilling the beans. Where was Jim so early on a Saturday anyway?

"Stop. Okay, see right there? There's a shadow on the other side of the counter. The clerk had to be standing right there. You said the evidence clerk was gone when the heist went down," Jim said pointing to the TV. The rest of the Major Crime team who sat around the table to review the bootleg tape nodded in agreement.

Rafe stared at the tape with a confused look. "Jim," he said at last. "That's my shoe."

"What?" Ellison asked, looking from Rafe back to the screen. He had been so focused on the shadow that he had ignored the brief glimpse of a shoe that was just in the frame behind Blair.

"I thought this looked familiar. See where Blair's shirt is torn? I remember when he did that, because he bitched all the way back to the station. He tore it when we took down that kiddie porn guy. He helped me carry the videos to the evidence room."

"That was months ago," Jim said thoughtfully. He ran the tape again and watched it very carefully. "This tape has been spliced," he announced.

"Rafe, check the exact date of the porn bust and see if you can find the tape for that day," Simon ordered. "Everyone else, see what you can find out, but remember that whatever we do is unofficial. For now anyway. Keep a low profile, people. Jim, where are you going?"

"I think I'll have a little talk with Chavez."

Picking up his backpack as he straightened his room, Blair noticed that it was getting heavy again. He'd clean it out later. He had two weeks to do it and right now, he wanted to lay back down and pay off a little of his sleep debt. So he tossed it aside and tumbled back onto the bed, clothes and all, not even bothering to kick his shoes off.

"No, everything else is going according to plan. People are speculating about Ellison even though he didn't come through publicly defending the kid last night. No one will be surprised when he and Sandburg disappear," Chavez said into his cell phone.

"When are you going to bring in Sandburg?"

"I'll send a squad car around to pick him up later this morning. The drugs are in that ever-present backpack of his. If we give him a hard enough time when he's arrested, and then make it clear that he's going down hard, Ellison will post his bail and then run with him. Even if he doesn't, that's how it's gonna look. One way or the other, they will disappear."

"I'm coming, hold your horses," Blair grumbled as he crawled out of bed to answer the persistent knocking at the door. "Hi," he said to the two officers waiting in the hall as he swung the door open. "Jim, what's wrong?" he added when he realized his roommate was in the hall as well, and not happy.

"You don't need a search warrant," Jim stated firmly. "This is my residence and I give you permission to search it."

Blair stepped back as the first two cops entered the room. "Sorry, Blair," Margaret Lu said as she passed him. Her partner, who Blair only knew in passing, glared at him. Another cop with a dog joined them in the living room.

Jim stayed in the hall and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He ignored Blair's questioning gaze, looking resolutely at the floor, even though he could feel the blue eyes staring through him. Jim fought the urge to tell the handler to go straight to the downstairs bedroom, because now that he was smelling for it, he already knew where the drugs were. Ironically, he was using his Guide to focus his sense of smell.

The dog made quick work of the living room and disappeared into Blair's bedroom. The cop returned quickly with Blair's backpack in hand. "Open it," he told Blair.

"Go ahead," Blair said, unconcerned about anything that they would find in it. There might be some half eaten food of some sort. Maybe that's what the dog was acting so excited about.

The cop upended the bag and a variety of books, notepads and pens fell out. Along with two paper wrapped packages that still had the evidence sticker attached. The dog sat and wagged his tail furiously. Another baggie also fell out of the bag; this one was full of colorful pills and capsules. "That's quite a little pharmacy you've got here," the officer said. "And two kilos of cocaine."

"You have the right to remain silent," the other male cop began. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

"Wait a minute!" Blair exclaimed. "That's not mine!"

The cop grabbed him by the arm and led him towards the door. "You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided for you. You have the right to have your attorney present during questioning. Do you understand these rights?"

"What? Yeah, I understand. Jim, I didn't do anything. Jim!" Blair said as he was spun around by the officer and pushed out into the hall and against the wall.

"Save it, Sandburg," Jim said stiffly watching as Blair was frisked. He flinched involuntarily as Blair's hands were roughly pulled behind him and he was cuffed, remembering the painful looking bruise on his chest.

"I don't know anything about those drugs. I don't understand. Jim, talk to me, please," Blair pleaded, struggling to look over his shoulder at his obviously disappointed partner. The cop pushed him face first into the wall to subdue him.

Ellison moved forward quickly, brushing the cop aside. He grasped Blair by the shoulders and spun him around to face him, whispering several terse words under his breath. Blair stilled instantly and stared wide-eyed up into the eyes of the big detective, giving a barely perceptible nod of his head.

"You have the right to remain silent," Jim said for the others to hear, and hoping for once, Blair would just keep his mouth shut. "Use it." He turned on his heel and walked into the loft.

The female cop turned anxiously to her male counterpart. "Did Ellison threaten him?" she asked.

"I didn't see nothin'," the other officer replied dryly as he pulled the now silent observer along by the arm to the elevator.

"I just had Sandburg arrested," Ellison announced dourly as he strode into Simon's office and shut the door. "They're booking him now."

"I heard," Banks said, rising to his feet, somehow not shouting that that was exactly what he had worked so hard this morning to avoid. "What did Blair say?"

"I told him to take the fifth and he did," Jim said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could stop the pounding of his head.

"So you haven't even asked him his side yet?" Simon asked incredulously.

"I didn't have to, sir. He doesn't know anything about it. You know as well as I do that he's being set up. And so am I. This was the only way I could think of to keep him safe and me out of jail long enough to clear all this up. Chavez is behind this. I had to act fast to beat him to the punch. His people were on the way to make the arrest."

"How do you know it's Chavez?" Simon asked.

"I heard him. He was on the phone when I went looking for him this morning. That's how I knew where to find the drugs."

"You heard him? Or you heard him?" Simon asked.

"That's just it. There's no way a normal person could have heard the conversation. I was too far away. Besides, it would just be my word against his. And he did a nice set up. Blair looks guilty as hell on the surface. Everyone is supposed to think I was in on it with him."

"So why lock him up? If Chavez needs a fall guy you're playing right into his hands."

"Not really. He wasn't done with the set up yet. And he expects me to take Blair and run. He planned on taking us both down. But since I'm the one who brought Sandburg in, nobody will believe that I was in on it. And he's safe here. As long as we keep him out of general population he should be okay."

"So how do we catch Chavez?"

"He put two kilos of coke in Blair's pack. The heroin is still missing. That's what we need to be looking for."

"Jim, Chavez has Blair in interrogation," Rafe said, opening the door a notch.

"Damn it!" Jim exclaimed. "Let's get down there. I guess he's not as safe as I thought."

"What are you doing with my prisoner?" Jim asked menacingly as he pushed his way into the interrogation room, secretly checking out his partner with his senses. Blair stared at him with a million questions in his eyes. His heart rate and breathing were a little rapid, and he looked kind of pale, but there weren't any obvious signs he had been mistreated.

"It's my case, Ellison. Back off," Chavez spat out harshly.

"I made the bust," Jim argued pointing a finger accusingly in Blair's direction.

"You're too close to this," Chavez smirked. "Everyone knows Sandburg is your boy. You're probably in on it, too," he added as he prepared to be hit or pushed, or at the very least threatened.

"Whatever. But I suggest you don't question him without his lawyer. He's the kind to turn it on you later if you do," Jim said before turning to leave, noting with a grimace the jump in his partner's heart rate.

"The public defender is on the way," Chavez's partner declared. Chavez stood open mouthed as Ellison walked away. Blair turned tired, mournful eyes to the mirror.

Simon watched from the observation room. He turned as Jim came in. "Chavez is right. It's his case. He has the right to question Sandburg."

Jim rubbed his eyes. "I know. That's why I didn't fight him on it. He wants me to lose it, Simon," he grumbled as he walked up to the glass and studied his friend. "I don't know if I can act like I don't care."

"That's the only way you're not going to be relieved of duty by IA. If you want to be able to work this, even unofficially, you're going to have to distance yourself from Sandburg. You can do this. Chavez knows where the line is. We'll get someone to post bail and then we'll hide hide him until we can prove he was set up."

"We need someone with him who can protect him. Chavez will kill him if he doesn't run."

"I can put Rafe or Brown on it," Simon suggested.

"It can't be anyone with the department," Jim said thoughtfully. "They'll fall into the same trap Chavez set for me." After a long pause, he sighed. "I've got an idea. Let me make a phone call. Someone needs to stay in here and keep an eye on Chavez while he questions Blair, though."

After twenty minutes with the public defender, Blair spent three hours alone with Chavez.  

"My lawyer should be here for this," Blair complained again.

"Why? I'm not questioning you," Chavez laughed.

"What are we doing here?" Blair asked and lay his head down on the table.

"Bored little brother?"

Blair raised his head to make eye contact with his tormentor. "No, I just wished you'd go ahead and do whatever it is you're gonna do and get it over with. And I'm not your brother."

"Patience, Sandburg. We've got all night."

Jim paced Simon's office until Simon was ready to throw him out the window. "It's a good plan, Jim," the Banks offered. "We'll get the kid out soon. Brown's keeping an eye on him for now."

"I just wish I could explain what's going on to him. He looks so lost."

Brown entered the bullpen with a frown on his face and headed straight for the Captain's office. Jim stopped pacing and Simon stood up as Henri shut the door behind him.

"I don't understand. They're just sitting there," Brown swore softly.

"He's testing me," Jim said with assurance. "He hasn't laid a hand on him?"

"No. He's not even questioning him. You know Hairboy, he's asking all the questions."

Simon smirked. "That sounds like Sandburg. Get back down there. I don't trust that bastard Chavez as far as I can throw him."

"Yes, sir," Brown said and patted Ellison on the back as he left.

"Getting a little protective there, Simon?" Jim asked with a ghost of a grin.

"Why should you have all the fun?"

"Brown's gone," Detective Martin said as he opened the door a crack.

"Get up," Chavez ordered.

"Why?"

Chavez yanked Blair's chair back from the table and Martin came all the way into the room. "I said get up."

Just as Blair rose to his feet, Chavez landed a glanced blow to his midriff. "Did you see that Martin? He was trying to attack me."

"I saw that," Martin agreed.

Blair held his stomach and gritted his teeth. This is what he had been waiting for. It had just taken a lot longer than he thought it would. "Fuck you, Martin," he breathed. He had always liked the man, he never knew he was just another dirty cop.

Martin grabbed Blair around the shoulders and forced him to stand up straight. Chavez punched him in the face a couple of times before Martin let him fall to the floor. "Oops, the prisoner fell down," he exclaimed as he kicked Blair savagely in the ribs. Blair curled up on the floor and panted hard to catch his breath in spite of his bloody nose. Chavez leaned over him and grasped him by the hair.

"Get off him," Brown shouted as he rushed in the door. "Sandburg? Are you okay? What happened?"

"He fell down," Chavez replied nonchalantly, releasing the handful of hair.

"Yeah, ain't gravity a bitch," Blair sneered as he wiped at the blood that dribbled down his chin.

"Blair, do you need a doctor?" Brown asked anxiously.

"No, man. I'm okay."

Sandburg lay on his back with an arm across his eyes. He was really tired and it felt as if the florescent lights were slowly leaching the life out of him. Still, he couldn't sleep. It had been at least eight hours since his arrest. He hadn't heard a word out of Jim yet. Not even after Brown had all but caught Chavez beating the shit out of him in the interrogation room. Megan had been in briefly to check on him, but she didn't offer any information as the jailer, Carl Bartlett, stayed with her the entire time.

He hated to think what his face looked like, but at least his nose had stopped bleeding. Refusing a doctor had not been too smart, but at the time he was thinking that his blessed protector was about to blow in and tear the place apart. The ache and tug he felt with each inhalation of breath was reminiscent of cracked ribs he had had in the past and only added to his breathing problem.

Two words kept the impending desperation from rushing to the surface. Jim had said them with a determined glint in his eyes back at the loft. Trust me. Blair felt that was the only thing keeping him together right now. Jim had asked for his trust, and fighting every instinct he had, he was gonna give it to him. But the wait was hell.

"Hey, Sandburg. Are you asleep?" Bartlett called from outside the cell. "I brought your dinner. Now you be sure and eat it all," the thin faced man said with a less than sincere smile. Blair groaned. There was no love lost between him and Bartlett. As a matter of fact, Carl had long been one of Chavez's cronies.

Blair raised his arm from his face to give the man a one-finger salute, but he didn't bother to open his eyes or say anything.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Can't wait to get to prison for that?" Bartlett purred as he slid the tray under the door, not bothering to unlock the cell. "Tell you what, maybe I'll come back later and let you into the big lockup. I'm sure somebody in there will give you a run for your money." Bartlett laughed at his own joke all the way back down the hall.

Blair glanced at the tray in the floor, but once again covered his face with the crook of his arm. He didn't trust that the food hadn't been drugged or tampered with. Anyway, he didn't think he could keep anything down right at the moment.

"Where is he hurt?" Jim asked in a strained voice.

"He looks like he was hit in the face a couple of times," Megan began. "And I think he might have broken a rib, he was breathing funny."

"Hmm. His chest was already hurt, and I'm beginning to wonder if Chavez didn't have something to do with that in the first place."

"Jim, his spirit seems to be down. Couldn't you just talk to him for a minute. Even if he could just see you I think it would help."

"Absolutely not," Simon interjected. "You've got to stay away for now."

"Simon, I just want to look in on him," Jim insisted.

"Don't do that to yourself," the Captain said. "What if someone saw you sneaking around down there? Besides, it won't be much longer now and you'll see him before they leave."

The sound of boot heels on the concrete floor roused Blair from an uneasy sleep. It must be time for the next beating he thought sarcastically. He raised himself up just as a large shadow fell across his face. "Blair," a baritone voice echoed off the walls around him. "Come on, partner, let's get the hell out of here."

Wincing as his lip split, Blair smiled widely. "Jay! What are you doing here, man?" he asked.

"Saving your ass," Brady said and watched grimly as the guard opened the cell door. Blair realized he must look pretty bad for Jay not to be grinning ear to ear. As he moved into the hall he returned the quick hug as Brady embraced him. 

"Let's go," Jay murmured and kept an arm around the smaller man protectively.

"What's going on?" Blair asked, tired of being left in the dark.

"I posted your bail. I'll tell you everything as soon as we see some sky," Jay assured as Blair leaned on him, unable to walk very fast without assistance. And he wanted to get out of this place as fast as possible. "Somebody is in a whole mess of trouble," Brady swore under his breath as they were released through the first of two sets of locked doors.  Finally they made it to the main hall outside of the solitary cells.

Blair leaned into Brady as he shuffled along. "Ribs?" Jay asked as he pushed the button for the elevator.

"Yeah, a couple could be cracked, I think."

"Should we go to the hospital?"

"No way, man. I'm fine."

"Oh, that's right. You hate hospitals," Brady mocked with a gentle smile.

"Hey, I'm not hurt any worse than you or Jim were when you, what did you call it? Worked out?" Blair laughed lightly, not wanting to aggravate the pain.

"In that case we're going straight to the emergency room. Ellison put a world of hurt on me that day."

"Don't feel too bad about it. It took 'Ironman Ellison' a week to get over it himself."

"No shit?" Brady asked proudly as the door opened. He ushered Sandburg in and pushed the button for the lobby. "Did Chavez do this?" he asked much more seriously when the doors closed and they had some privacy.

"Yeah," Blair confirmed.

"And where was Ellison all this time?"

"I don't know," Blair answered truthfully.

Brady did a couple of mental calculations as he changed the plan, and decided not to inform Ellison about it. He'd let him figure it out on his own. "So how's Megan?" he asked, changing the subject.

Rafe gave the signal that Blair's bail had been posted. Jim glanced at Simon who nodded, and then grabbed his jacket and headed for the stairs. Brady would wait downstairs with Blair until Jim could get there and check out his partner at last. God help anybody who got in his way on the way down.

The lobby was deserted except for the officer at the front desk who only gave the odd pair a passing glance. As they headed out the front the cool air helped to clear Blair's head. "How did you know that I was in trouble?" he asked.

"Jim called me."

"Jim called you?" Blair asked with obvious surprise. "Tall guy, blue eyes, a little bit anal? That Jim?"

"Yes, smartass, Jim Ellison called me. He said to hop the next plane because you needed protection and he couldn't do it right now."

"Wow. Jim called you."

"Yeah, wow."

"So what's going on? What are we gonna do now?"

"We're gonna get the hell out of Dodge until Major Crime clears up this mess. That's what we're gonna do." Brady stopped next to a dark sedan and unlocked the back door. "Get in." He helped Blair get settled in the back and pulled a woven blanket out of the bag in the floorboard and covered him up with it. As an afterthought, he handed him the bag to use as a pillow and pushed him gently into a reclining position.

"Thanks for coming to get me, Jay," Blair said softly.

"Anytime, partner. Get some rest. I'll fill you in on the details when we get where we're going." As Brady shut the door he saw a figure coming through the front doors of the police department. He quickly slid behind the wheel, cranked the engine, and pulled a U-turn to head in the opposite direction. 

The man ran to catch the car and then stood in the street and glared at the taillights as they sped away.

"Damn you, Brady," Ellison swore darkly.

"How's Sandburg?" Simon asked as Jim stormed back into his office.

"I don't know," Jim ranted. "I didn't get to see him. Brady saw me coming and took off with him."

"Where'd they go?"

"They didn't go to the loft like we planned. I've already called there," Jim sighed and sat down. "Why wouldn't he let me see him? He knows how worried I was. I don't understand."

"That's just Brady," Simon reasoned. "He's probably still sore about the last time you two worked together. You can read him the riot act when they call in. Right now we need to find the rest of the drugs."

Chavez hung his jacket and holster in the closet as he came through the door then went to the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge. It was an extremely nice apartment, especially when you considered his take home pay. The day had not gone as planned. Ellison had been cool as a cucumber all day, leaving the kid to sweat it out alone in his cell. He hadn't even bothered to post bail for him. That had to hurt; he almost felt sorry for the poor kid. Not only had he been framed, but his best friend had also turned his back on him.  

Unfortunately, now the resolution wouldn't go as planned. Sandburg would still disappear of course. In fact, he already had. Someone had posted his bail and word was that Ellison was trying to find him with no luck. Bartlett didn't recognize the man who picked up Sandburg, and Chavez hadn't had time to make other inquires into the matter yet. The description sounded a lot like Jay Brady. That didn't help the plan any because it would be too easy to prove that Brady wasn't in Cascade at the time of the heist, even though he did have the knowledge needed to mastermind the robbery. Maybe he would work on that angle tonight.

A knock on the door drew him back from his evil thoughts and he unlocked the door without asking who it was or checking the peephole. Martin, Townsend, and Bartlett were on the way over to try to figure out their next move. Two men pushed their way in, brandishing firearms in his face as they came.

"Detective Chavez, I've been meaning to have a word with you," another well-dressed man said as he sauntered into the room behind the two thugs.

"What do you want?" Chavez growled dangerously, wishing he hadn't taken off his gun. One of the men pushed him backwards and he fell on top of the overstuffed ottoman by the plush couch.

"You don't recognize the family resemblance? I'm William Dover. I believe you know my brother Gerard. Where are my drugs?"

"They were stolen from the police lockup last night. We haven't recovered them yet," Chavez explained, clearly shaken by the men.

"Yes, I know. I hear it was an inside job. Naturally because of your past dealings with my brother, I thought of you."

"I don't have them," Chavez lied, breaking into a sweat as he sat directly over the drugs hidden in the ottoman. "It was Blair Sandburg. He's a civilian observer with the department. But he's already jumped bail. You'll never find him."

"You don't know my resources. Sandburg. Thanks," Dover said as he walked out of the apartment. "Kill him," he added over his shoulder.

"Come on, Blair. Wake up. That's it, buddy. Let me see those baby blues."

"Jay?" Blair asked as he opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. "Where are we?"

"We're in a rat trap motel about thirty miles north of Cascade," Jay explained, sitting on the edge of the bed.  "That's some dandy bruising you've got there on your chest. Want to tell me how that happened?" Brady ran a hand lightly over the darkest of the discoloration as he examined it.

Blair looked down at his bare chest and pulled the cover up over it, causing Brady to pull his hand back. "Chavez did that yesterday, uh, I mean the day before yesterday. He dropped a set of weights on me while I was waiting for Jim."

"What did Ellison say?" Brady asked, trying to keep his temper in check.

"I didn't tell him. I knew he would just go off and start something."

"So Ellison didn't know."

"Uh uh."

"Ok, get dressed and we'll go get some chow. I went to Wal-Mart this morning and picked you up some things. Your clothes had a lot of dried blood on them. Help yourself to any toiletries out of my bag." Brady stood up and reached for his cell phone as he walked out of the door, sunlight streamed in behind him for a second as he moved through it.

Brady dialed Captain Bank's office number. "Good morning, sir," he said when the deep voice answered.

Ellison frowned as he looked over the crime scene. Chavez's bullet ridden body had already been removed, but the place still smelled strongly of old blood. Keeping his sense of smell turned all the way down, Jim observed Chavez's partner, Bill Townsend, who had found the body last night, but didn't waste any tears on his downed brother in blue. Instead he paced by the window, shooting covert glances at the crimson stained white ottoman where Chavez had died. Risking a sniff, Jim dialed up his smell a little, nearly choking on the blood. He tried to filter it out, but found it too overwhelming without his Guide nearby to direct him. Instead he shut off his nose again and went with his detective instincts.

"Roberts," he called out to the man leading the forensics effort. "Let's have a look inside that big foot stool. It looks like there's a seam there."

"Where?" Roberts asked as he felt around the top of the stool. "Oh, yeah. There is." He pulled hard and the top swung open, revealing multiple bags of a brownish substance, covered in congealed blood that had soaked through the cushion. "Looks like black tar heroin to me," he said.

Townsend bolted for the door, knowing his own fingerprints were all over the bags. Jim caught him by the arm and less than gently put him down. "Something you want to talk about Townsend?" Jim snarled.

"I want my lawyer," the man stated and firmly shut his mouth.

"I've got it," Rafe announced as he walked into Bank's office for the meeting. "This was found in the trash by environmental services a couple of days ago. She said it looked important so she saved it. Serena put it back together for us." He popped the revamped video into the VCR.

Once again Sandburg walked up to the counter carrying a bag and nervously noted the camera before bursting into a wide grin. Rafe stepped into the frame right behind him. Jim smiled slightly as he read his partner's lips, as there wasn't any sound on the tape.

"Hey Rafe, we're on candid camera! Hi Mom!" Sandburg made a peace sign to the camera before Rafe pushed him through the door the clerk had just opened.

"Good work, Rafe," Simon said. "That about does it, gentlemen. We have the drugs, we have the tape, and we have Townsend's confession. Which by the way implicates Tony Martin as well. I'll add the tape to the evidence for IA. This should clear Sandburg completely. Let's get to work on Chavez's murder, people," Simon ordered as he dismissed the meeting.

"We still have to bring in our little lost lamb," Megan said.

"Yeah, well if your boyfriend hadn't run off with him, he'd already be here," Jim grumbled sourly.

As everyone left, Megan turned an angry glare on Ellison. "He's not my boyfriend," she said.

"Don't think we don't know where you disappeared to the night of Brady's going away party," Jim snipped.

"That's none of your damn business, Ellison," Conner snapped back.

"Jim!" Simon admonished, glaring at his detective.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Conner. I'm mad at Brady and I'm taking it out on you," Jim said. "I apologize."

Megan muttered something under her breath and stormed out of the room, her face a brilliant shade of scarlet. "I deserved that," Jim said with a grimace.

"What did she say?"

"I don't use those kind of words, sir. Brady didn't give a clue as to where they are?" Jim asked changing the subject.

"All he said was that Sandburg is okay, and that they were going to lay low for a while. He'll call back, Jim. When he does we'll bring them in. There's nothing to worry about. Brady will take good care of him. That's why you called him in the first place."

"I don't know, Simon. What if whoever did Chavez knows about Blair?" Jim asked. "Besides, he was supposed to watch him at the loft where I could supervise."

"Why don't we put out an APB on them," Simon offered.

"Hungry?" the bigger man asked facetiously as he watched the smaller one wolf down his second plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Yeah, man. I didn't eat anything yesterday," Blair mumbled around a mouthful of food.

"They didn't feed you?" Brady asked, starting to get angry again.

"Well, Bartlett brought me something last night, but I didn't trust him enough to eat it. Miss? Can I get some more coffee?" Blair asked politely, and smiled when the waitress winked at him as she poured.

"Lady killer," Brady teased. "Even with a face full of bruises you can still charm 'em."

"Look who's talking. I know about you and Megan. And if I remember correctly, you had a few bruises yourself at the time."

Brady grinned and looked out the window, but didn't offer any denial.

"I hate you're missing work to be here with me," Blair said seriously after a long moment.

"Don't worry about it," Jay said with a shrug and turned back to face his friend. "I'm self-employed now anyway. I gave up the badge."

"Oh, Jay! No," Blair said, pushing his plate away. "You love being a cop."

"Yeah, I did. But it got to be too much, you know. Too hard."

"Maybe you just need time to get over losing your partner," Blair offered.

"Maybe. Anyway, I got my private investigator's license. And I do a little work for a bail bondsman I know."

"You're a bounty hunter?" Blair exclaimed.  "Cool."

"The term is bond enforcement agent," Brady corrected with a smile.

"Right. Actually, I can see you doing that."

"You know, I could always use a partner. The money's good. And I set my own hours."

"Aw, thanks anyway. I can't imagine doing anything other than what I'm doing now."

"What? Teaching? Or following Ellison around?"

"Both," Blair said softly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that. I just think Ellison takes advantage of you. But if you ever find yourself looking for something new..."

"I'll keep that in mind," Blair smiled. "Jay? I'd like to talk to Jim."

"Blair?" Jim asked excitedly as he recognized his Guide's voice. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. We're about thirty miles...north?"

"Yeah, north," Brady's voice confirmed.

"...north of Cascade on route 82, staying at a little motor court. Kiley's Lodge."

"Stay there. I'm on my way," Jim stated firmly. "Something has come up. Let me talk to Brady."

"What?" Brady asked coldly when he took the phone. Blair winced at his tone.

"First of all, I'm going to kick your ass when I get there," Jim forewarned.

"That's nice," Brady smiled at Blair, causing the strickened expression on his face to lighten up some. Jay knew it was hard on Blair when he and Jim didn't get along.

"Listen. Chavez was murdered. We found the drugs, but we have reason to believe that whoever hit him is looking for Blair. You stay put until we get there. Do you understand me?"

"Sure. Nice talking with you, Jim. Bye-bye." Brady hung up the phone and turned to the anxious anthropologist. "Change of plans. We're gonna head up the road a little piece."

"I thought he wanted us to stay here?" Blair asked.

"Kiley's lodge. That's right. Happy hunting," Bartlett said as he hung up the phone. 

He knew the tap Chavez had put on Ellison's phone would eventually pay off. Chavez might be dead, but Bartlett had managed to save his own ass. He made a deal with the devil he thought as he packed his bag, but he was still alive. 

Townsend had kept his name out of it in the hopes he would be able to free him on the graveyard shift. Apparently Martin had the same idea, because he didn't rat him out either. Bartlett wasn't willing to take the chance of showing up at work tonight. He was going to run instead. All he had to do was make it to Mexico. He never made it off the front porch before Dover's henchmen cut him down.

"Jim, wait up," Conner called to the big man as he moved rapidly through the garage. "I want to go with you."

"Why?" Jim asked as he unlocked the Volvo, as the truck was still out of commission.

"Someone has to keep you and Jay from killing each other, and frankly, I don't think Sandy is up for the task," she said. "Besides my auto is more reliable than Sandy's. You do want to actually arrive, don't you?"

"You've got me there," Jim agreed and reached for Megan's keys.

"Oh, no. My car, I drive."

"This deal is getting worse all the time," Jim groused, but he grabbed his bag and followed Conner to her car.

As they prepared to pull out of the motel parking lot, Brady saw blue lights flashing in the rearview mirror. "Put these on," he instructed Blair as he handed him a pair of handcuffs.

"Why?" Blair asked, but he did as he was told.

"Because something's up, and I don't know who we can trust," Brady explained quickly before rolling down his window as the state trooper approached the car.

"Are you Jay Brady?" the patrolman asked as he reached the driver's side window.

"Yes sir, I am." Brady produced his license and another slip of paper, which he handed to the cop. "I'm a bond enforcement agent, and this man is my legal prisoner. I'm taking him back to Cascade." Blair smiled and raised his cuffed hands to show the officer. "Stop that," Brady whispered while the man read over the documentation.

"I need to call this in," the trooper said and walked back to his car.

"What do we do now?" Blair asked apprehensively.

"Let's just see what happens. Ellison must have put out an APB on us," Jay said, taking a gun out of the glove compartment and placing in under his jacket on the seat. Blair's eyes grew wide.

"How did you get on the airplane with that?" he asked.

"I picked it up when I got here. Borrowed it from a friend."

"A lady friend?" Blair asked wickedly. Brady just shot him a look.

After several long minutes, the trooper appeared back at the window. "Are you all right, son?" he asked Blair through the window, noting the multi-colored face.

"Yes, sir. I resisted arrest," Blair answered conversationally.

"I see," the cop said coolly looking at Brady who stared at Blair like he'd grown another head. "Do you feel like you are safe with this agent?" he asked.

"He didn't hurt me," Blair assured. "It was a cop who did this." Sandburg raised his hands to indicate his face.

"All right then. I talked to my supervisor who says to let you proceed back to Cascade."

"Thank you," Brady smiled, and pulled out onto the highway turning south as the trooper stepped away.

"I thought we were gonna go the other way," Blair commented as they drove away.

"I think the trooper knows which way Cascade is," Brady answered dryly. As soon as he couldn't see the motel any more, he thumped Sandburg on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Blair asked indignantly.

"That was for helping back there," Brady snorted. He fumbled around in his jacket until he came up with the handcuff keys and handed them to his 'prisoner'. "I resisted arrest," Brady said with a chuckle.

"This is the place," the first man said as they pulled into Kiley's Lodge.

The second man loaded his weapon and looked out the window. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"We wait until we see a hippie and a cowboy."

"Wait a minute," Jim nearly shouted. "Turn around."

"What? Why?" Megan asked, looking around for any sign of trouble.

"That's Brady's rental, back at that motel."

"How do you know? You saw it one time in the dark. Besides, we already know where they're staying," Megan argued.

"I just know," Jim insisted. "Turn the car around now. Please," he added through clenched teeth.

Megan clucked her tongue, but she slowly down, a little, and made a U-turn.

As they approached the motel, they saw a mop of brown curls getting out of a dark car. "I told you so," Jim muttered under his breath, drinking in the sight of his Guide.

"I heard that," Megan answered. She pulled in and waved at Jay, who was coming towards them rapidly. "Oh, no," she sighed when Ellison barreled out of the car before she came to a complete stop. "Sandy!" she called out as she slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car herself. "No!"

Jim rushed forward to meet Brady, unfortunately Blair read all the signs of the impending disaster and jumped in between them. All three hit the ground. "Oaf!" Blair moaned as the air rushed out of his lungs.

"Look what you did."

"What I did? You just wait. I am going to kick your ass," Jim threatened. "Chief? You okay?" he asked as he pulled his partner to a sitting position.

"No fighting!" Blair panted. "Jim, swear to me. I mean it. Swear you won't fight."

Brady brushed the dirt from Blair's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Blair. Are you all right?"

Jim checked him out on one side while Brady looked him over on the other. "Promise me, both of you that you're not gonna fight anymore," Blair persisted, holding his ribs tightly.

"Yeah, okay," Brady grumbled.

"Chief," Jim started. "He left before I got a chance to see you. And then..."

"Jim," Blair said sternly.

"Oh, all right. I won't hit him. But we are going to have a serious discussion."

The two big men hauled Blair to his feet and Megan joined them, shooting a nasty look at Jim in the process. "Everyone all right?" she asked, her gaze lingering on Brady a minute too long.

Blair noticed immediately and hid a grin and hobbled towards her with his arms out to her. "I think I need help," he teased unthinkingly and got a double dose of blessed protector and was practically carried into the motel room.

After enduring an almost head to toe exam everyone was satisfied that Blair was indeed in one piece. They decided the best thing to do would be to stay the night and then see what was happening in the morning. Simon concurred when they called him, speaking to Megan as Ellison and Brady fought over who got to talk on the phone. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as Jay and Megan gave each other meaningful glances, and Jay and Jim shot each other dirty looks, Blair couldn't stand it any longer.

"I get to sleep with Megan," he announced as he patted the bed next to him and waggled his eyebrows seductively at her.

"Sorry, Sandy. I'll get my own room," she said, unable to suppress a small grin.

"Not here, you won't," Brady said, settling on top of his bed. "No vacancies. There's a fleabag motel maybe ten miles up the road. I know they've got a room. The place was a dump. Kiley's Lodge."

"I know," Megan said. "That's where you were supposed to be staying."

"We all need to stay together. But I'm not sleeping with him," Jim said bluntly, pointing at Brady.

"That's okay by me," Brady shot back. "Besides the two of us would never fit into one of these little beds. Megan, you pick," he said.

"I don't suppose it matters. You're both gentlemen," she said, dropping her bag onto Brady's bed.

Blair snorted. "You lose, Jim. I guess you have to sleep with me," he teased, once again patting the bed.

"Oh, joy," Jim said flinging his bag at Sandburg's head, wincing when Blair almost didn't catch it in time because he couldn't get his arm up fast enough. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Jim asked worriedly as he moved to his partner's side. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just still kind of sore is all," Blair assured and covered his ribs with both arms before he had to go through another examination.

Jim leaned up on an elbow and watched over his sleeping Guide, who lay on his back taking up way more than his allotted half of the narrow bed. His face was bruised and his lip still a little swollen, but he didn't really look too bad. Jim's concern was mainly for the smaller man's ribs, which he was still guarding with an arm every time he moved. Gently easing up Blair's shirt, Jim noted the angry black mark on the right side of his ribcage. With gentle fingers he investigated the area for fractures. He hadn't been able to do a thorough exam the first time because Brady's hand kept getting in the way.

Blair moaned and opened his eyes a tiny sliver. "Knock it off, man. Let me sleep," he mumbled, a little too loudly.

Jim tensed as he heard movement from the other bed. "Shh," he whispered as he caught Blair's hand that tried to push him away, and continued to probe.

"I mean it, Jim. Keep your hands to yourself," Blair said even louder as he rolled over with a grimace, pulling his T-shirt down as he went.

Jim groaned inwardly, fighting the urge to throttle the kid when he heard Brady get out of the other bed and stumble into the bathroom. Although Brady had to strain to see anything as he passed, Jim could see him quite clearly. It was hard to be mad at the man. After all, he had come all the way from Texas just because Jim said Blair needed him. Even now he thought he was protecting him by pretending he had to go to the bathroom. Jim pulled the covers up over Blair's shoulder and draped an arm around him. Closing his eyes he tried to go back to sleep. He didn't care what Brady thought. Blair sighed and relaxed, leaning back against him. As much as Sandburg complained about being cold, he certainly was warm, Jim noted with a sigh of his own.

"Dover ain't gonna be happy." 

They spent all night parked across the highway from the lodge and watched as all three cars left the next morning. No sign of a hippie or a cowboy, together or separate. 

"What do we do now?"

"Head back to town, I guess."

"Can we stop for breakfast on the way?" Blair asked as he tried to carry his bag out the door, until Jim plucked it from his hands.

"I don't see why not," Brady said, giving Jim the strangest look.

Jim looked away as he headed for Megan's car, almost as if embarrassed. Blair caught the exchange and shrugged at Megan, who also looked on in confusion. At least they weren't fighting.

"Why don't you take the rental?" Brady said to Jim and tossed him the keys.

"Fine," Jim motioned for Blair to get in and watched as Megan handed Brady the keys to her car. Brady opened the passenger door for her before going around to get in on the driver's side. "Sure. She lets him drive," Jim complained.

"Cowboy," the drowsy thug stated as they parked at the diner, stopping for coffee before going back to their boss empty handed. The big man in the ten-gallon hat was opening the car door for a lady.

"Yeah, and there's our hippie," the other man said as he watched the younger man get out of a second car with another man.

Megan excused herself to the restroom. There hadn't been time to put on any makeup, what with three men taking showers, and she certainly wasn't going to put it on in front of either Jay or Jim. Blair would have been fascinated with the procedure, and she wouldn't have minded him watching, but he had spent the longest time in the shower, leaving her to the eerie silence between the other two men.

"Chief, why don't you get us a table. I want to talk to Brady for a minute," Jim said as they stood waiting for someone to seat them. "We're just going to talk, I promise."

Blair nodded gravely and watched as they headed back out to the parking lot. Two men came in the door as they left and stood behind Blair in line. The place was extremely busy as it was the last stop before Cascade on this road. He turned to glance out the window, even though Jim had promised not to hit Brady, and found a small gun pointed at his stomach.

"Easy, boy. Take it slow, we're gonna head out the back way."

Brady shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not making eye contact with Ellison.

"I know what you think you heard last night," Jim began.

"Look, Blair obviously gets something out of ... being with you or he would leave," Brady said uncomfortably. "I don't like it, but I respect his decision."

"It's not like that," Jim persisted. "I was trying to feel of his ribs for fractures."

"Huh?"

"He didn't want me to feel his ribs."

"Oh," Brady said. "Oh. You mean..."

Jim heard the sound of a round as it entered the chamber, and slammed Brady to the ground just as the bullet smashed into the rental car behind them. They rolled in opposite directions, each pulling out a gun and returning fire.

"I got him," Brady announced.

"Yeah, so did I," Jim answered, keeping down with his gun drawn he entered the diner. Blair was nowhere in sight, but it was hard to tell with the panicked mass of people moving in every direction from the gunfire.

"Brady!" Jim yelled out, staying low to the ground.

"Here," Jay said as he dropped down next to Ellison. "Out the back?"

"Yeah, let's go."

They moved as a team, checking doors as they went, ending up behind the restaurant. "This way," Jim said, keying in on Blair's scent as he headed for the woods. Brady followed without question, guarding Jim's back. When they came to a clearing, Megan stood pointing her gun at the man who held Sandburg around the neck. He, too, had a gun and it was digging in to Blair's temple.

"Drop it, I said," Conner breathed.

"He'll be dead before I will," the man answered calmly. Blair set his jaw and tried to slow his breathing, the run through the woods had winded him, and now the man was practically cutting off his airway with his arm wrapped around his neck.

Jim motioned to Brady to wait as he made his way silently to the other side of the man holding his partner. Megan saw him as he slipped up behind them and cocked her weapon.

"On three," Jim mouthed to her and held up one finger. She tensed as he held up a second finger. She squeezed off a round, when he raised the third finger and grabbed Blair away from the man. The gangster returned fire, and Brady lunged toward Megan taking her down and out of harm's way. Jim hit the man with one shot, dead center, as he attempted to turn on them. He laid his head on Blair's chest for a minute and assured himself that everyone was all right.

"So Megan saved you, and Jim saved Brady, and Brady saved Conner," Brown repeated. "Who did you save?" he teased.

"Hey, man. I was just a pawn in this whole thing," Blair said with a grimace as the paramedic taped his real broken rib he received when Jim pushed him out of the way of Conner's bullet.

"Listen, we're gonna go," Brady said awkwardly as he approached the back of the ambulance.

"You kids be good, now," Blair teased as Brady walked away. "Hey, Jay. I hear there are some openings in Vice, you know, if you're interested."

Brady grinned at him. "Well, you never know. Let's see how the next couple of days go," he said and looked over at Megan who waited for him in the car.

Jim rounded the corner with Simon, just in time to see Brady drive away with Megan in her car. "I can't believe she lets him drive," he groused.

"They got Dover," Simon informed the group as he closed his cell phone. "Chavez's funeral is tomorrow. The mayor has ordered all off duty officers to attend."

"That's a shame it has to be an order," Blair said as Jim helped him slip a T-shirt over his head.

"No one cries for a dirty cop, Sandburg," Simon said.

"No? Well maybe somebody should."

The End

Disclaimer - Images, characters, and settings taken from various television shows are the property of their respective owners, producers, etc.  No copyright infringement intended, I'm just having a little fun.