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Blue Eyes Rides Again         
by Kikkimax

Blair knew the bus was full, so when he heard a woman climbing the steps with a young child, he moved to let her have his seat behind the driver.

"Oh, no, mister," the woman admonished. "You keep your seat. But do you mind if my daughter sits next to you?" The bus lunged slightly as it began to move forward and pick up speed.

Blair moved to the window to make room for the little one. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather sit?" he asked trying to be a gentleman, knowing more than likely no one else would be.

"I wouldn't dream of taking a chair from a... from you. Keisha, sit down and be still."

A small hand found Blair's knee as the little girl pulled herself up to sit next to him. Noting the vague blur of pink, possibly a dress, he smiled. His shadow versus light world was slowly starting to add color. "Hi Keisha, how are you?"

"What's wrong with your eyes?" the child asked innocently.

"Keisha!" her mother exclaimed.

"It's okay, that's how kids learn, by asking questions. I don't mind," Blair assured. "Nothing's wrong with my eyes, I had an injury to my brain that made me blind. But I'm getting better now."

"Can I see?"

Blair smiled a little self-consciously as he removed his sunglasses. "Oh, Mommy. Blue eyes!" the girl exclaimed.

"They are beautiful," the mother agreed with a fanciful sigh. Blair felt his cheeks color as he slipped his glasses back on.

"This is your stop, Blair," the bus driver announced as the bus ground to a halt. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Tony. Bye Keisha," Blair said as he gathered his backpack, unfolded his white cane and moved to the exit.

"Bye, Blue Eyes!" the girl called out after him as her mother took his seat.

Jim sat at his desk, rereading the file Simon had once again returned to him. His paperwork had not been up to par lately and he knew it. Simon was keeping him at the station more and more, and without his trusty sidekick, he somehow didn't care as much as he thought he would. 

Although Blair had already gone back to work, and seemed to be taking his injury in stride, Jim felt his own depression grow each day. In the beginning, he had wanted to take a leave of absence so he could be with his Guide all the time, at least until things were more settled, but Blair wouldn't hear of it. And he was mad at Blair for not letting him help, although he would be hard pressed to admit it even to himself. He wanted to help, hell, he needed to help. His instincts pushed him to do everything for Blair, but his stubborn roommate held him off time and time again. Worse than that, Blair seemed bound and determined not to take any solace from his friend, in fact, he physically pulled away from any type of comfort offered. Every touch now was rebuffed, practically shutting Jim out.

"Life goes on, man. You can't drop everything to take care of me. You need to work. That's who you are. And I need to work this out for myself," Blair had told him more than once. He had even threatened to move to the school for the blind to learn how to take care of himself alone if Jim didn't back off, but Jim had freaked out so completely over that prospect Blair backed down immediately.

And as much as he worried about Blair alone and blind out in the world, he knew Blair worried just as much about him. He feared the Sentinel would zone at an inopportune moment, even though such episodes were few and far between now. He even hinted that Jim should not use his senses right now, a fact that told Jim how well and truly frightened he was.

Simon came out of his office with Taggert close on his heels. "Jim, there's been an attack," he began. Jim felt the blood rush from his face as he grasped the edge of the desk, preparing himself for the worst.

When at long last Jim returned home, and he had truly wanted to come home, but at the time he had wondered if he would be able to drive for the shaking in his hands, he found his roommate on the balcony. Blair sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes closed and his head back. His expression was serene and almost angelic in its open, peaceful countenance. Blair smiled as Jim came out to join him, but didn't open his eyes.

"Hey, Jim," he breathed.

"What are you doing out here? Meditating?" Jim asked as he worked hard to keep all emotion out of his voice. His little breakdown at the station still bothered him, but he didn't want Blair to get wind of it. He let his hand slip affectionately to the top of Blair's head briefly as he moved past him to lean against the rail, knowing that was all the contact Blair would allow.

"Nah, just listening," Blair supplied easily.

"To what?" Jim extended his hearing, filtering out the varying undercurrent of noise all around them, but found nothing to explain the expression of rapture on his partner's face.

"Everything," Blair sighed. "I envy you your hearing. I just wanted to experience it a little bit. Did you know there's a baby in the building?"

Jim searched briefly before latching on to the baby's cry. "Yeah, ground floor. She's a little grumpy today. Do you hear her mother's lullaby?"

"No," Blair said, his forehead wrinkling as he struggled to listen. "There!" he said. "I hear her."

They listened together for a minute. "There are wind chimes on the next block over," Jim said, turning his friend's head to the proper angle to appreciate the sound. "You should be able to make them out. The wind is playing them now."

Blair's smile widened. "The wind is playing them. I like that," he murmured, finding the soft tinkling and hanging on to it for a moment.

"Why, Chief?"

Moving his head from side to side to work out the stiffness of his neck, Blair opened his eyes and rose to his feet to stand next to Jim at the rail, brushing past Jim's outstretched hand. "If I'm blind forever, that's one thing. But if it doesn't last, I want to take something of it with me when I get my sight back. I don't want to waste this time, just because I can't see. I haven't ever really taken the time to listen to the world, you know?"

"I know," Jim agreed. "Did you go to the doctor today?" he asked after a few more minutes of just listening with his friend.

"Yeah, my MRI was this morning."

Jim knew very well Blair had gone, because he too had somehow managed to show up at the hospital at the right time. He had sat across the room and watched as his partner waited his turn in the scanner. Once, Blair had frowned and looked directly at him, but the nurse had come and escorted him back behind the doors and down a hallway before the doors closed and Jim lost sight of him.

"What did she say?" Jim asked guiltily.

"Oh, let's see. The swelling is completely gone. Now we just have to wait for the damaged nerve endings to remake the connections. They either will or they won't. But Jim, I'm starting to see color as well as dark and light now. She thinks that's an excellent sign."

"You are?" Jim choked out excitedly.

"Yeah. It started a couple of days ago. I wasn't sure if it would last so I didn't say anything. Nice red shirt, by the way. There was one just like it at the hospital today."

Dead silence met the almost accusation. "Jim, if you wanted to go with me, you should have just said so," Blair scolded softly.

Jim laughed sarcastically. "And have you go off on me again. I don't think so!"

Blair's smile faded. "I know this has been hard on you, man. I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I just don't want to feel helpless. That's all. I mean if you want to go with me sometimes, within reason, I'll be glad to have you come along."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Jim asked hopefully.

"Um... shrink's office," Blair answered candidly. "But if you don't mind, I'd rather do that one solo."

"You think I'd listen?" Jim asked, his feelings slightly hurt.

"No way, man," Blair denied vehemently. "I just don't want to tempt you, that's all. Let's go in. I'll supervise while you cook dinner."

Simon scratched Jim's name off of the piece of paper on his desk. He should have known better than to pull the dumb stunt he had this morning. When the case got kicked up to Major Crime, Simon had immediately thought that this was exactly what Jim needed to get him over his slump. Get the team back together so to speak. 

Someone had been robbing disabled people for months now. Even though it had been determined the perp was following his victims when they got off of the city buses, no one had made any progress on the case. The last attack had happened half a block from the police station. Although all it amounted to was multiple muggings, the mayor was in an uproar, and insisted that Major Crime take over the case. They would have the perp within a week, Simon was sure of it. Then he had walked over to Jim's desk, and the words that came out of his mouth had set him up for failure.

"Jim, there's been an attack," he had begun. "Or should I say another attack. Some sick son of a bitch is targeting blind people on the city bus line."

That's all he got out before Jim went ballistic. "Is he all right?" he had howled. "Where is he? Simon, tell me!"

It had taken Simon and Taggert almost a full minute to calm the big man down. Simon had tried the soft, persistent voice that Sandburg used to use on him, but couldn't get through the overriding panic. Every eye in the bullpen turned to watch the commotion as they quickly shepherded Jim to Simon's office.

"It wasn't Blair," Joel soothed, grabbing Jim by the shoulders.

"He's fine. I swear, Jim. I just talked to him on the phone not five minutes ago. He's at the loft," Simon added. "I was going to give you the case, but I think that may be a mistake."

"I'll take it," Jim answered gruffly as his heart slowed and he was able to think clearly again. If some creep was targeting blind people, and Blair's usual luck held, then fate was on a collision course with Sandburg once again, he was sure of it.

"No, Jim. You're too close to this one. I'll give it to Brown," Simon said softly. "Why don't you go on home."

"Give it to Brown, but I've still got work to do," Jim had said and wandered back to his desk, oblivious to the stares and whispers around him.

Now Simon stared at the phone and thought about calling Sandburg and calling the whole thing off. He circled Blair's name on the paper and doodled around it. He had never even thought about Blair as being handicapped, until the mayor had suggested the plan today. That's where he had made his mistake, in assuming that Jim didn't think of Blair that way either. Obviously, he did.

"How's the new teaching assistant working out?" Jim queried as he moved to clear the table.

"Oh, Jill's great. She spoils me rotten. I never dreamed that the university would make it so easy for me to go back to work. I can't believe they put out the money to get me an assistant," Blair said, rising from the table and moving cautiously to the sink. He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature before adding the soap.

"They know what a good teacher you are," Jim said.

"Can you say Disabilities Act?" Blair countered with a grin. "Anyway, she does all the scut work and all I have to do is teach. It's great. Of course, she has to read lots of stuff to me, and we get off on tangents and... Well it's a good thing I'm only teaching two courses this semester." Blair washed the dishes and Jim rinsed and dried and put them away. They had fallen easily into the new routine, but only after Blair declared that he wasn't helpless and could still wash the damned dishes.

"So your students are still being supportive?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact," Blair laughed, "you know how I lecture. I move around a lot. At first I was really careful, counting out the steps to the edge of the podium. Then I realized there's this girl who sits in the front row who does this 'gasp' thing every time I get near the edge. So all I have to do is keep an ear on her and I'm home free."

Jim snorted his amusement. "She's going to be absent one day, Chief, and you're gonna bust your ass."

"Probably," Blair agreed good-naturedly. "So what's going on down at the station?" Jim didn't answer right away, so Blair turned to face him. "What's wrong? Is it your senses?"

"No. Everything is fine," Jim lied.

Blair paused for a minute, but didn't push the issue. "You know, I've been thinking. I should start spending a couple of hours a day with you, now that I don't have so many appointments at the doctor and the shrink."

"No."

"But, Jim. I'll stay in the truck when we go out. You'll know right where I am all the time."

"I said no. There's no room for discussion on this right now."

Blair turned back to the sink and sighed as he finished the dishes in silence. At last Jim couldn't stand it and spoke again. "Did you know that there's some sicko in the city who is attacking handicapped people? He's targeting people who ride the bus."

"Come on, Jim. That's been going on for over six months. You're just now getting wind of it?"

"Maybe you should start taking a cab," Jim suggested.

"That would get awfully expensive, man. Besides, I'm careful. I always sit behind the driver, and I listen out to make sure nobody follows me. The only thing we can do about it is to catch the bastard. Right?" 

Blair didn't say any more because he had promised Simon he would let him be the one to approach Jim about the operation. He wasn't chicken or anything, even though he had a pretty good idea what the initial reaction would be. Although he thought Simon should have already spoken to him about it. Obviously, Jim didn't know yet. But as far as Blair was concerned, it was a done deal.

For all of Blair's bravado and 'I can do it myself' attitudes during the day, night time was hard on him. Not that the dark bothered him. Some days it was still dark all day long. But the good days were getting more frequent, and now there was the color thing. In the past though, he would have turned on a light and lost himself in a book or gone online or written test questions, anything to divert his mind when he was troubled. Now he didn't have those options, so he dwelled on his thoughts instead, quiet and alone, while above him, Jim would be asleep, or trying to sleep anyway. The nights were hard for Jim, too.

Blair hated Curtis Wright, and the fact that he was dead did nothing to erase or wear away the hate. True, the man had taken away his sight. First accidentally, but then he had tried to make sure that it would be permanent so he could control him better. But he had taken far more than Blair's ability to see. He had taken away his trust in people in general, the feeling of safety in his own bed, and even the comfort he felt in his own body. 

Wright had robbed Blair of the ability to share even a hug with his best friend, and Blair couldn't even find the words to tell Jim about it. He longed for the days when Jim would grab him in a headlock or ruffle his hair and they would banter back and forth playfully. Back when the touch of any man's hand didn't make his skin crawl. He had promised himself that he would bring it up when he visited the shrink the next time, instead of using the usual 'everything is fine' line he and Jim seemed to share. But now that Jim had taken to following him around, he didn't dare mention it. He couldn't risk Jim hearing how he really felt. Everything will go back to normal when I get my eyesight back, he told himself. When he didn't feel so vulnerable, so helpless. He tried hard to believe that.

More for something to do than out of real thirst, Blair wandered into the kitchen to get a drink of water. He had no idea what time it was, it could be midnight or five-thirty. His sense of time had disappeared with his ability to read a clock. Opening the cabinet door, he reached in for a glass, but accidentally knocked one to the floor, shattering it in every direction. 

"Damn it," he muttered angrily. He realized he was barefoot in the middle of a minefield of broken glass. As he bent to try to sweep a path clean with his hand, he heard Jim come clamoring down the stairs.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you," Blair sighed.

"Stay there. Let me get the broom."

"Sure. No problem." Blair reached up for another glass and filled it with water from the tap, not willing to waste the trip. As he downed the cool liquid he heard the sweeping sound behind him and felt the swoosh of the broom near his ankles. He smiled to himself knowing that even in the dark, Jim wouldn't be satisfied until every tiny sliver of glass was safely out of his path. Then Jim gently laid a hand on the small of his back.

Blair dropped the second glass into the sink, shattering it as well as he spun on his startled friend. "Don't touch me," he yelped before he could censure himself.

"Blair..." Jim said softly, pulling his hand back. "It's me. Jim," he finished uneasily.

"I know. I'm sorry. Please, don't touch me." Blair spent the next few minutes listening to Jim's uneven respirations, betting that Jim was listening to his own thundering pulse as well. After a while, they both calmed down.

"Give me your hand and I'll guide you away from the glass," Jim said at last.

"I don't know if I can," Blair exclaimed, fighting back his tears of frustration. When Jim reached for him again, he backed away, stepping on a jagged piece of glass.

"Stop!" Jim ordered with enough force that it got through to Blair immediately. "Listen to me! I am going to help you to a chair. I have to touch you to do that. If you keep fighting me, you're going to get hurt again. Do you understand that?" he added much softer.

"I understand in my head, yes. I just don't know if I can," Blair explained, focusing on the ache in his foot, knowing he must be bleeding badly just by the fear in Jim's voice.

"Just take my hand," Jim insisted.

Blair nodded and reached out until his hand found Jim's. "Okay, I can do this. It's just Jim. I can do this," Blair muttered under his breath. "It's Jim."

Jim swallowed as the words sunk in. He hadn't considered all the aspects of Blair's latest abduction. He had tried hard not to think of it at all, instead he had focused all of his energy on the fact Blair was blind, taking the pulling away as stubbornness on Blair's part. He had thought Blair simply didn't want his help; he never understood that Blair couldn't stand it when he touched him.

"I would never hurt you. You know that right?" Jim asked gently as he pulled Blair towards him.

"I know. I'm so sorry," Blair sniffed. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He followed slowly, favoring his injured foot.

"Don't worry about me right now. Come on. A little further." Jim breathed a sigh of relief when Blair cleared the kitchen, leaving a bright red trail behind him.

"I'm so embarrassed," Blair said at last. "This should be easier since I can't see your face."

"Come on, Chief. It's me. You don't have to pretend around me," Jim said, for the first time not guarding his voice. They had both been hiding their feelings, and it was time to stop.

"Jim?" Blair asked and reached out to touch his face, feeling the hot wet tears stream down the big man's face.

"I just feel so helpless," Jim confessed.

Blair laughed unexpectedly. "Yes! That's exactly the way I feel. I hate feeling that way," he admitted. "Jim, he wanted me helpless. He wanted to keep me like a fucking pet or something. He wanted to..." Blair's voice broke and he stopped.

"He didn't?" Jim asked, gripping Blair's hand even tighter.

"No."

"I wish I'd been the one to kill him. I lie awake at night and remember his body falling, and I wish to God I had fired my gun," Jim confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

"I can't deny I wish I'd never met Curtis Wright, or that I'm glad Simon blew him to hell, either. But I refuse to just lie down and give up because of what he did to me. Damn it, my life still has meaning. I can still function and make a contribution. It hurts me that you won't let me come to the station. That you won't let me ride with you."

"I'm sorry."

"It makes me feel helpless. It makes me feel... kept," Blair admonished softly.

"Oh, Blair. I never meant to make you feel that way, I swear. I just wanted to keep you out of danger," Jim insisted. "I never stopped to think how you felt about it."

"It's okay, Jim. We'll get through this," Blair promised.

"How come you always end up the one to do the comforting around here?" Jim asked, wiping at his face with his free hand, unwilling to relinquish the only real touch he had shared with his partner in weeks. "I just want to help you, not control you. But you won't let me. Maybe I can give in a little, if you can meet me half way?"

"I'll try, if you'll try."

"Deal," Jim sighed.

"I think we can try a hug here, man. Just don't touch me. Okay?" Blair offered sincerely, ready to reconnect.

Jim chuckled. "I can't promise anything." He held his arms away from his body and Blair slipped his arms around his chest and gave him a squeeze. The comfort was amazing. 

"Please?" Jim said after a moment and Blair nodded into his chest. Slowly Jim lowered his arms and returned the hug. "I guess we ought to check that foot before you bleed to death, huh?" Jim asked several minutes later.

"Shut up," Blair mumbled, reveling in the safety he felt for the first time in over a month.

"Come on, ease back. There's a chair right behind you." Jim reached for the chair with one hand and helped Blair to sit with the other. He went into the bathroom and came back with the well used first aid kit and a towel and wash cloth. Kneeling beside the chair, he gingerly picked up Blair's foot and touched the bloody heel with sensitive fingertips, finding and removing the small but jagged piece of glass still embedded there with one smooth motion.

"Ouch! Damn it, Jim. You could have warned me," Blair sputtered.

"Hold still," Jim advised while he washed the foot, pleased to see it wasn't bleeding as much now. He applied an antibiotic ointment and bandaged the cut, wrapping the whole foot in roll gauze. "Let's get you back to bed," he said and placed a hand under Blair's arm, undeniably happy when he wasn't pushed away. Blair leaned on him as he hobbled back to his room.

"So. Are we okay?" Jim asked cautiously as he helped Blair back into the bed and tucked him in.

"Sure, 'til tomorrow," Blair answered cryptically with a ghost of a smile as he closed his eyes and sunk into his pillow. "Tomorrow, you're gonna be pissed."

Jim felt a whole lot better and it showed in his attitude. And his paper work. He used the morning to finish up the backlog that had smothered his desk for weeks, and was thinking about asking Simon to put him on the mugging case after all. "All we can do is catch the bastard."  That's what Blair had said, and Jim knew now he was right.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Jim suddenly latched on to Blair's voice as he came out of the elevator. Jim fought the urge to go out and lead him to the bullpen, but stayed firmly in his seat. He smiled as Blair returned greetings on the way in, surprised at how pleased he was by the impromptu visit. Blair hadn't been to the station more than a few times since his injury. Mostly because Jim had done his best to keep him away. He had secretly vowed to keep his Guide as far out of harm's way as possible, and that included anything and everything that had to do with police work.

"Hey there, stranger," Rafe called out from his desk as he rose to his feet. "Brown, look who's here."

"Hairboy! Welcome back. Did you miss us?"

Jim rounded the desk and ran interference before anyone could get too touchy feely, by wrapping an arm around his partner in a one armed hug. "What are you doing here, Chief? It's kind of early for lunch," he said.

"Hi guys. Just wanted to make sure you didn't have to close up shop without me around to keep you out of trouble," Blair said, shaking hands with Rafe and then Brown. "Sorry, Jim. I didn't come to see you. I've got an appointment with Simon. But maybe we can go to lunch after."

"Sandburg! My office!" Simon shouted from the door of his office, soliciting a huge grin from Blair.

"Some things never change," Blair spouted as he moved forward with a slight limp, guided by his memory and his cane.

"What's up?" Jim asked, following behind.

"Later, Detective," Simon said, ushering Blair into his office and shutting the door firmly in Jim's face.

"I'll tell you later, man," Blair said as he seated himself in front of Simon's desk. "Now turn off those ears," he ordered.

"Do you think that'll work?" Simon asked dubiously.

"It's worth a shot, I guess. We'll soon find out," Blair answered with a grin.

Simon watched as Jim glared at him through the window before heading back to his desk with a dark cloud over his head. "How are you, Blair? I mean really. No bullshit."

"I'm better, I think. We, Jim and I that is, had a sort of a breakthrough last night. I think we both feel better," Blair answered honestly.

"I know Jim's a whole new man this morning. I was really starting to worry about him," Simon admitted.

"Why didn't you call me?" Blair asked, shocked to find out Jim had been having trouble at work.

"I don't know, kid. I thought you were going through enough without dumping that on you."

"Simon, helping Jim is one of the few things I can still do. And it's one of the most important. Promise me in the future you'll call me when something is going on," Blair half chastised and half pleaded.

"He didn't mention what happened yesterday, did he?" Simon asked.

"No. What happened?"

"I was going to tell him about the operation, but all I got out was that there had been some muggings on the bus."

"Oh, no. He went off, didn't he?"

"Not exactly. He just sort of freaked out for a minute. He won't go through with this, Blair. And after thinking about it last night... all night, I don't think we should, either."

"Why not?" Blair asked with a cold, hurt tone, setting his jaw.

"And now you're hurt, too..."

"Hey, now I'm blind and crippled. A perfect target," Blair offered.

"Sandburg," Simon started to argue only to be cut off again.

"Simon, I'm on the bus every day. Without a wire and without backup. I'll do it myself if you choose not to back me up. Or I'll go to the mayor and have him switch the whole thing to another unit, but I am going to do this. Please, Simon. Don't turn me away. I'm still useful. I am."

"I know that. But I also know what it will do to that man out there if something happens to you."

"That's why I know I'll be safe, Simon. Jim won't let anything happen to me," Blair said with conviction. "I'll make a deal with you. If I can't talk Jim into it, I'll give it up."

"All right then, let's get him in here." Simon stood and walked to the door, certain that Jim would denounce the whole idea. As he opened the door and looked at Ellison, the man was already half-way to his office.

"You want to see me, sir?" Jim asked formally.

"Get in here," Simon growled, not amused. "Your partner wants to talk you into something," he said sarcastically.

"You want to be the bait again," Jim accused as he parked himself in the chair next to Blair.

"That's right," Blair said simply, turning toward his partner's voice.

Jim sighed and pinched his nose for a second. "Okay. I'm in."

"Just like that?" Banks asked suspiciously.

"Come on, Simon. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on in here. I don't like it, but I know him. He'll do it anyway."

"You didn't listen?" Blair asked.

"No, I didn't listen," Jim spat back at him. "In light of our conversation last night, how can I refuse?" he asked.

"Alrighty then. Let's get lunch," Blair said with unrestrained enthusiasm.

Jim pushed open the door of the diner and allowed Blair to hobble in first. He was proficient with his cane and tapped his way inside before stopping to wait for Jim who continued to hold the door for a small group of little old ladies who were leaving.

"There's a clean booth at ten o'clock, Chief," Jim said as he approached. "Order me a cheeseburger and fries, will you? I'm gonna hit the head."

"Right. Powder your nose," Blair joked.

"I'm gonna powder your nose, " Jim huffed as he made his way to the bathroom. He stopped just outside the alcove that housed the restrooms and watched to make sure Blair got to the table without any problems.

Blair went directly to the table and took off his jacket before seating himself. Satisfied his partner was all right, Jim went to take care of other urgent business. When he came back out, Blair sat at the table with two glasses of water and two menus.

"Did you order yet?" Jim asked as he slid into the booth opposite Blair.

"No. The waitress hasn't been back yet. I think it embarrassed her when she gave me a menu," he laughed.

Jim snorted. He knew what he wanted, but thumbed through the menu anyway. Blair sipped his water with a mischievous grin.

"Ready to order?" the waitress asked, appearing suddenly and looking directly at Jim.

"Yeah, I'll have a cheeseburger and fries. Coffee to drink."

"What will he have?" she asked, still looking at Jim.

"I don't know," Jim replied icily. "Why don't you ask him?"

"He'll have a chicken salad sandwich," Blair said, pretending to look at the menu. Jim reached across the table and turned it right side up for him. "Thank you. What vegetable do you have today?" he asked, removing his sunglasses and looking up at the woman.

"Uh, we have some nice steamed mixed veggies," she replied.

"That sounds great. He'll have that, too." Blair turned one of his best smiles on her to let her know he was only picking with her.

"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry," she said, her voice full of embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it. Coffee would be great," Blair said as he handed her the menu. She took it quickly and darted away from the table. "Wipe off that glare, Ellison," Blair added when he was sure the waitress was gone.

"What makes you think I'm glaring?" Jim asked sounding innocent enough.

"Come on, man. I can hear your teeth grinding from here."

"I just don't like the way that she treated you. There was no cause to act that way," Jim lamented.

"Jim, I get that all the time. People who aren't used to being around someone with a perceived handicap are uncomfortable when confronted by one," Blair explained. "It doesn't make them bad people. It just means they're ignorant."

"I guess," Jim said grumpily.

"You didn't really experience this kind of prejudice with your blindness. Huh? I mean, your senses compensated so well, you didn't come off as being blind."

"Right, but can you imagine how people would treat me if they knew about this Sentinel thing?"

Blair nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I can see your point."

After a long afternoon planning session back at the station, there was an even longer evening at home, with Blair making Jim read him every file from the previous muggings. They went over the locations, similarities, and differences of each case until Jim insisted they go to bed. After a morning class, the riding of the buses would commence.

"How do I look?" Blair asked after his secondary wire was in place on his chest.

"You still look like a blind guy," Jim answered with a smirk. "A blind guy having a really bad hair day."

"Jerk," Blair said as Jim fitted him with the tiny microphone/earpiece and arranged his hair so it didn't show. Jim had insisted on the back up wire, just in case something happened to the earpiece and Blair couldn't find it. If that happened, Blair wouldn't be able to hear them, but they could still hear him. "Are we ready?"

"Yep," Brown confirmed as he picked up his lunch box and moved to exit the van. "Let's go catch the bus." He convincingly wore the clothes of a construction worker, complete with a days worth of dust.

"You go on to the bus stop, H." Jim said. "That way you don't arrive at the same time."

"Right. See you later." Brown headed down the street towards the stop on the corner.

"You sure about this?" Jim asked for what seemed like the hundredth time as he watched Blair slip on his shades.

"I'm sure. Don't worry, Jim. We'll catch him," Blair said as he unfolded his cane and slung his backpack over one shoulder.

Jim tugged at Blair's hair one last time before he moved out of the way. "Go get 'em, Tiger," he said.

Blair gave him a thumbs up before moving down the street, exaggerating the limp slightly. Jim pounded on the door of the van, and Rafe drove off to the first drop off point, while Jim trotted to the truck and climbed in, waiting to follow along behind the bus. All the bases were covered, and it was a perfectly safe set up. Still, Jim worried.

"Excuse me," Rafe said to someone as he boarded the bus. Blair not only recognized his voice, but he could make out his tall frame easily as well. He and Brown had just traded places. Rafe was dressed in a suit with a Wall Street Journal tucked under one arm and a brief case in the other hand. With each stop, they switched back and forth while Jim followed as Blair walked around the block and back to the bus stop, giving the perp ample opportunity to strike. He had given up on the fake limp hours ago, the real thing taking over as his heel began to throb. When they finally stopped for a late lunch, and gathered in a small cafe a few streets away, Jim re-bandaged Blair's foot in the restroom.

Back on the street, Blair coughed a little on the fumes as the next bus rolled to a stop. He had lost count, but he thought it must be Brown's turn to ride. 

"Hey, Blair, it's a little early for you isn't it?" the driver asked as Blair dropped a token in the slot. "Hey, buddy, move back a seat, will you?" the driver said to the man who was settling into the seat behind him.

"Hi, Tony. Yeah, I've got an appointment," Blair said recognizing the friendly voice. "Thanks," he mumbled to Brown as he got up and moved back so Blair could sit behind the driver.

"Blue Eyes!" came the shout from the back of the bus as Keisha ran up the aisle to see him.

"Hey, Keisha! How are you?" Blair asked, readily accepting a lap full of the child.

"Blue Eyes?" Jim's voice whispered into Blair's ear via the earpiece.

"Fine," Keisha reported as she pulled off Blair's sunshades, dislodging the earpiece and sending it crashing to the floor.

"Here, I'll get that," Brown said, reaching out quickly and retrieving the equipment and placing it into Blair's outstretched hand.

"Thanks, man," Blair mumbled as he quickly deposited the earpiece into his pocket.

"What was that?" the little girl inquired.

"Nothing," Blair said casually as he hugged the child. "Want to hear a story?" he asked to sidetrack her.

"Yes!" Keisha shrieked.

"Tony? Let me know when we get to the library," he called out before starting the story.

"Sure thing, Blair," came the answer. "That sure is a nice guy," the driver added under his breath, Jim agreed with him whole heartedly on the other end of the wire. Tony felt protective of all of his passengers, but some of them were special, and there was a loony tune out there somewhere. 'Not on my watch', he swore to himself.

"We're at the library," Tony announced ten minutes later.

"Hey, thanks, man," Blair said after making sure Keisha made it back to her mother. He climbed down carefully from the bus and continued the plan, unable to hear Jim's orders to abort the mission until they could check the equipment.

Brown listened for a second into his head set disguised as a radio earplug, then moved quickly to catch Blair and inform him of the change in plans. As he stepped off of the bus and ran to catch Sandburg, someone tackled him from behind. Oblivious to the whole thing, Blair moved on down the street as Rafe ran to the bus stop to pull the enraged bus driver off his partner.

Jim pulled up next to the bus and got out of the truck just in time to see Blair disappear around the corner, a tough looking kid wearing gang colors right behind him. He left the truck double parked as he sprinted to catch up.

"Here we go," Blair said as he registered the heavy footsteps behind him, sorry for the perp because he knew Jim would not exactly be gentle with him. Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and forced into an alley.

"Hey! What are you doing? Who are you?" Blair shouted as he was pushed against a wall.

"Shut up," the kid spat out as he dug through Blair's backpack, throwing the contents that didn't interest him, which was pretty much everything, onto the ground. "Where's your wallet?" he asked.

"Look, I've only got ten dollars on me, and I'm not giving it to a punk-ass mother fucker like you," Blair snarled back at him, fueled with real anger.

The kid spun him around and began to search him, the rough physical contact sent Blair over the edge. Grabbing the teen by the shoulders, he head butted him as hard as he could. "Ow," he muttered as he joined the perp on the ground.

"Blair!" Jim yelled as he rounded the corner, kicking the sprawled out gang banger out of the way. Rafe and Brown came racing around the corner as well and began to read the semi-conscious youth his rights as they cuffed him, just to be thorough.

"Is he okay?" Brown asked anxiously. Rafe was already calling an ambulance.

Jim patted Blair's face gently, nightmare visions of him losing what little ground he had gained by volunteering again vivid in his mind. "Blair? Come on, Chief. Talk to me."

"Ow, ow, okay, that was dumb," Blair mumbled as he came to.

"No kidding," Jim scolded. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking. He put his hands on me and I just reacted," Blair explained, holding his head with one hand.

"Can you see me?" Jim asked hopefully, remembering an old TV show he had once seen where a blind man was hit on the head and suddenly regained his eyesight.

"Oh my God," Blair exclaimed grabbing Jim by the shirt and raising himself slightly off the ground.

"You can see!" Jim grabbed Blair as well.

"Of course not. Don't be so gullible, Jim," Blair laughed, moaning when Jim dropped him back to the pavement. "Ow! Chill, Jim! I was kidding!" he choked out with a laugh. "We got the guy! Woo hoo!"

"How could you do that to me?" Jim breathed, seriously pissed. He dropped back down and helped Blair to sit up. "That was just cruel," he added. "I liked you better before you developed this mean streak."

"Tell you what, you be smarter, and I'll be nicer. How could you think that I'd regain my sight just because I took a bump on the head. If anything I'd probably lose..." Blair stopped as his own words sunk in. "No, Jim. I'm fine I don't need to go to the hospital," he begged, suddenly very sorry for his little joke.

"He's fine," the doctor assured. "I can't see that the blunt trauma did any more damage other than a goose egg and a bruise. It's a good thing he's got a hard head."

"You don't even know the half of it," Jim said with a sigh. "Come on Blue Eyes, it's time to go home."

Blair groaned and sat up on the stretcher, still holding the icepack to his forehead. "Remind me never to do that again," he said.

"How's our hero feeling?" Simon asked, entering the room.

"Stupid," Jim supplied with half a grin.

"You just don't like being the sidekick for a change," Blair said. "Tonto."

"Uh uh, Tonto's already taken," Jim said as he signed the discharge papers for Blair and helped him gather his things.

"Jim," Blair uttered thoughfully as he settled onto the couch. "I think we got the wrong guy."

"What do you mean? We caught him in the act," Jim said as he dialed the station to find out what was going on with the arrest.

"The M.O. doesn't fit. Think of all the other muggings. The guy never spoke, and he never let any of the people see his face."

"The victims were blind, Chief," Jim said patiently. "Detective Rafe or Brown, please," he said into the phone.

"Not all of them," Blair argued. "Four were deaf, and two used crutches and leg braces. The other sixteen were blind. Seventeen if you count me. But this guy not only spoke, he turned me around to face him. The real perp took only seconds to grab whatever he wanted, and pushed the victim down hard enough they didn't get back up right away. He was vicious, almost like he had something against the victim. Our guy was just greedy and stupid."

"Just a minute, Chief. Hi Rafe. Yeah, he's fine but he'll think about it before he pulls that stunt again," Jim supplied, shooting a dirty look at Blair as he silently mocked him. "What's going on with our perp? ... Uh huh... Sandburg said as much himself... Right. Later," Jim sighed as he hung up the phone. "Damn. The kid claims that he was only trying to rob you as a gang initiation. Says he hasn't done it before, but since it was in the paper so much lately that's what he decided to do cause it would make him look like a bad ass to his buddies."

"Humph," Blair snorted. "It really takes a big man to try to rob a blind guy."

Jim laughed. "Well it seems like you made an impression on him. He keeps asking if the crazy blind guy is coming to get him."

"Don't make me laugh, man! I have such a headache," Blair moaned.

"Simon wants us to keep it up," Jim said softly.

"Not a problem," Blair assured. "You still in?"

"Yeah, but I want new rules."

Blair nodded. "Lay 'em out."

"First, if the earpiece comes out, get off at the first stop and wait for me," Jim said. "Second, I ride the bus. I want to be closer if anything goes down. Third, we catch this guy quick, because this is killing me."

"Okay. That's doable. Get those files again. Let's see if we can find some kind of pattern," Blair said as he sunk into the couch cushion to get comfortable.

Jim grinned and shook his head as he grabbed the files and joined his partner. It was going to be a long night.

As Blair stretched and pushed back the covers he opened his eyes, stopping in wonder as his room settled into focus. For the first time in weeks he could make out the shape and color of the furnishings, if not the details. He moved to the dresser and picked up a long forgotten book and opened it, glancing through the pages. They might just as well have been blank for what he could see written on them, but he could see the book. Deciding to test his eyes, he closed them, suddenly afraid that when he opened them he would return to his world of shadows. Leaning close to the mirror, he opened them and found his own blurry reflection staring back at him. A blind man couldn't miss the bruise on his forehead. He sighed and smiled.

Fingering a fern that someone had brought him while he was in the hospital, he reveled in the cool green, but was unable to make out the individual, delicate fronds. He moved to stand in the doorway of his room and leaned against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest to watch Jim move around in the kitchen.

Jim heard him and turned around to speak. He froze in place and contemplated Blair's ear to ear grin. "Chief?" he asked, moving closer. Blair followed his movements with his eyes. When Jim was very close, he reached out a hand to Blair's face. "Chief?" he asked again.

As his face came into focus Blair spoke. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see that ugly face," he said softly.

Jim didn't smile or speak, but stood as if waiting for the punchline. Blair nodded and watched as Jim moved his hand slowly back and forth in front of his face, his grin growing even wider. He grasped the hand in mid movement and looked up into Jim's face. "Really," he said. "No joke."

Jim choked back laughter or a sob, or some other unidentifiable noise and grabbed his friend into a bear hug. "Thank God," he whispered. "Thank God, oh Blair."

Pulling back he examined Blair again. "No shit?" he asked, once again with disbelief.

"Let's eat," Blair said and sauntered into the kitchen.

"Shouldn't we call the doctor?" Jim questioned suddenly.

"Why?" Blair asked looking back over his shoulder.

"I don't know. Let's call Simon."

"Jim. Relax, man. It'll keep 'til after breakfast. Besides, it's still not exactly twenty-twenty."

Jim snorted. "Chief, you never were twenty-twenty. Do you want me to find your glasses?" he asked.

"Nah, they won't help, the prescription will be all wrong. I'll have to get new ones when I finally get straightened out I'm sure." He picked up a spoon to stir the eggs that Jim had moved away from the heat. "Are these done?" he asked, holding his hair back so he could lower his head and get a better look.

"No," Jim said nudging Blair over so that he could finish the eggs. "I told you so," he added smugly.

"What?" Blair asked.

"The bump on the head."

"You think I got my sight back because I head butted that punk?" Blair asked incredulously.

Jim shrugged, but maintained his smirk.

"No way, man. That was just coincidence," Blair assured him.

"Whatever you say," Jim said and caught his friend in a headlock. "I'm just glad we can stop this mess now."

"What do you mean?" Blair asked, pulling away enough to study his friend. "The stakeout? We don't have to stop."

"The guy doesn't target anyone but the handicapped. I don't think your mental problems will entice him," Jim teased.

"I can still pass as blind, Jim. In fact, legally, I probably still am."

"You want to keep it up?" Jim asked, a little surprised.

"Until we catch this guy, I'm blind as a bat," Blair informed him firmly.

Three days. Three long days of riding the bus all afternoon and evening without so much as a nibble was starting to wear on everyone involved. With each passing day, Blair saw a little clearer. Now his ever present shadow sat happily in the back of the bus, singing softly to Blair over the wire. "...blue eyes cryin' in the rain..."

"Knock it off, man," Blair whispered with a grin. Unconsciously, he turned his head to watch the raindrops slid down the window.

"You're doing it again," Jim informed him, covering his mouth as he spoke into the mic.

"What?" Blair asked quietly.

"You're looking out the window."

"Damn. I guess we really are done here," Blair conceded. He finally realized he wasn't able to keep his gaze from wandering now. Everyone else was just waiting for him to give in.

"Don't worry, Chief. We'll catch him eventually. We'll just have to find another way. Let's call it a day."

Blair nodded and didn't bother to unfold his cane as he rose and trotted down the steps as the bus pulled into the next stop. A man a few rows behind and across the aisle did a double take and watched in awe as his would be next victim stood on the sidewalk and looked back up at him. Another man got off the bus and together they headed for a dark van parked next to the curb. The perp thought seriously about changing his ways as the bus rolled on, knowing how close he had come to being nabbed.

An old guy leaned against the wall in the bus station smoking a cigarette. He watched as a mismatched pair of men came through the door. The smaller man removed a couple of tacks from the bulletin board and solemnly posted a notice on it. The big guy patted him on the back with a smile and they looked at each other briefly before going back out the way they had come in, silhouetted against the early morning sun as they retreated, the bigger man threw an arm around the shorter one as they went. A laugh echoed down the hollow building before the door fully closed behind them.

Curiosity got the better of him and the man shifted away from the wall and moved to the bulletin board to read the note. In neat rows of flowing script it read:

To whom it may concern,

Let this be a warning to anyone who feels that they can pick on the helpless or less fortunate of the city. If you abuse any of these people as they ride the bus, we will catch you. When we do, you will pay to the utmost limits of the law. That's a promise. We're watching you.

Sincerely,

Blue Eyes and Tonto                         

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.