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Has-beens and Wannabes               
by Kikkimax
 

Jim Ellison sighed deeply as he finished up the last report and dropped it on top of the already impressive stack. It had been a long six months since Sandburg had graduated the academy and they had been reassigned to ‘other’ duties. The same brass who had initially welcomed the intelligent, eager young grad student had lost their nerve in light of the media blitz that surrounded the Sandburg/Ellison team wherever they went. Hounded by the press and more than a few of their brothers in blue, sadly, they became a burden the department couldn’t afford to bear, at least not in the high profile world of Major Crime.

In deference to his recent status as ‘Cop of the Year’ Jim had been given the choice of ditching the fraud or going down with him. It had been no contest and so they had settled together into the basement of the station to take over the Special Investigations Unit, otherwise known as the Cold Case Squad. The job required a ton of research, something that was second nature to the ousted academic anyway, and it kept them conveniently out of the limelight. For now anyway, but Jim didn’t doubt for a minute they’d eventually solve at least a few of the more notorious old cases and when they did, they’d be back in the news.

Blair being Blair hadn’t complained about the assignment and aside from a few worried glances at the bored Sentinel, seemed to have adjusted well. In fact he applied himself to even the shit cases as if they were the most important cases in the world. As a team, they functioned better than ever and worked backwards chronologically to clear case after case in record time.

Major Crime’s solve rates hadn’t dropped too noticeably in their apparent absence but truth be told, he and Blair had their fingers in a lot more cases up there than the DA would be strictly comfortable with if she knew. Especially since most of his old colleagues were now clued in to the Sentinel thing. After all, they didn’t work in Major Crime for nothing; there were some pretty fine detectives in that group. Jim knew how much Blair missed them, and he begrudgingly admitted that he did too, so it didn’t bother him a bit to help out.

The ringing telephone snapped Jim out of his revelry and he snagged it on the second ring. “X-Files, Mulder speaking,” he answered playfully using his and Sandburg’s private joke.

“Oh, hell no,” Blair protested from the other end of the line. “If you’re Mulder then that makes me Scully and I don’t do red.”

“I don’t know, Chief. You’re hair’s already way past regulation length, a little color wouldn’t hurt.” Jim teased; grinning as Blair’s snort ineloquently stated exactly what he thought of the idea.

“How’d you know it was me?” Blair queried expectantly.

“Does anyone else ever call on this line? We’re out in the Twilight Zone down here.”

“Whoa, Jim. Way too much nighttime TV, man. That’s two television references in less than a minute.”

It was Jim’s turn to snort. “Yeah, well, we don’t exactly work a lot of nights anymore, do we? Where are you?”

“I’m pulling into the garage now. Wanna get some lunch?”

“Sounds good. Pick me up by the stairs.”

“Cool. Take it easy, old man. Don’t hurt your self coming down that whole one flight of stairs,” Blair offered as a parting shot before he hung up.

Jim grabbed his jacket and locked the door behind him. It occurred to him on the way out that they didn’t really have it all that bad. So they didn’t get their picture in the paper or shake hands with the mayor on a regular basis. Big deal. They were still doing police work. Important police work. Plus, they had a quiet office to themselves, they came and went as they pleased, and they had absolutely no time pressures to deal with which left them plenty of room to dabble discretely in a few of the more interesting cases upstairs. Jim’s only worry was they would close all the cold cases in their first year and then what would they do?

He heard the Volvo’s distinctive clatter and smiled when Sandburg flipped a mouthy patrolman the bird as he rounded the corner. So everything wasn’t perfect, but they still had each other and that was what really mattered. Sometimes Jim worried about all the flack the uniform division heaped onto his partner after he went straight from outcast to academy to detective, but Blair seemed to take it in stride.

“Anything but Chinese,” Jim stated firmly as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“Come on, man. I’ve got a taste for moo goo,” Blair insisted as he swung the car into a parking spot to turn around.

“You’ve got a taste for Sue Lu,” Jim countered, “and no. We’ve had so much fried rice lately I’m starting to dream in Chinese.”

“Fine,” Blair agreed grumpily, navigating quickly through the garage and out to the street. “But we could be missing out on an important cultural exchange.”

“Right. The only exchange you’re interested in is an exchange of phone numbers. Didn’t she already slip you her number in a fortune cookie?”

“Ah, so. Friendship is the bread of life. But money is the honey.”

“You got that from ‘The Big Chill’,” Jim scoffed.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“That’s it, man. I’m taking away your remote.”

The cackle of the radio interrupted the argument before it could get colorful.

“Any unit respond to Coal River Bridge. Park Service requests immediate backup for a code six-five-zero.”

“Jumper,” Blair provided worriedly.

“Roger that, one-victor-eight responding with a twenty minute ETA."

“They’ll never make it in time,” Blair stated as he pulled into traffic and accelerated. “We can be there in ten if we take the bypass.” He grabbed the blue light from the dash and shoved it onto the roof.

Jim nodded his approval as he reached for the radio. “Eight, this is one-zebra-one. We’re closer.”

“Ten-four. Suit yourself, Ellison. Maybe your partner can take a flying leap while you’re there.”

Suppressing a growl, Jim tossed the mic down with a lot more force than he’d intended bouncing it back toward the seat.

“Easy, Jim,” Blair soothed. “Don’t take it out on the radio. You break another one and it’ll come out of my salary.”

“Sorry. Hey! Watch out. Where’d you learn to drive?”

“I took a crash course at the Sentinel Chase School. My teacher was an asshole, but he could total a vehicle like nobody’s business.”

“Shut up and drive, Sandburg,” Jim grumbled as he held on to the dash.

They pulled over just south of the bridge where they could see a small crowd gathering including, unfortunately, a news crew. “How did they get here so fast?” Blair grumbled as he slammed his door and scrambled to catch up with his longer legged partner. The Park Service had already blocked off the two-lane bridge but there was no one trying to talk the jumper down.

“Ellison,” Jim said as he flashed his badge to the apparently nervous man in the tan Park Service uniform. “Sandburg,” he added with a nod of his head toward Blair.

“Edwards,” the man replied with grim appreciation. “This way. He won’t let us near him.”

They ducked under a line of yellow tape and made their way closer to the lone figure perched precariously on the top of the tall handrail. The river was swollen with runoff from the extra warm spring and thundered beneath them through the narrow canyon.

“Stop right there!” The young man shouted when he saw them approaching. He wobbled dangerously and appeared to have been drinking as he clutched at the nearest overhead support beam.

“Crap,” Blair muttered as he caught sight of the jumper’s face. “I know this kid.”

“Think you can talk him down?” Jim asked.

“I think I’ve got a shot. Wait here.”

Jim nodded and stayed with Edwards as Blair edged forward and called out to his former student. “TJ! It’s me, Blair Sandburg. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Stay back,” the jumper warned again before recognition briefly lit his face. “Mr. Sandburg?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Blair called out over the rush of wind and the roar of the water below. “You can call me Blair since I’m not, you know…anymore. Will you talk to me?”

TJ nodded, but kept a wary eye on Jim and Edwards as Blair inched closer.

“I’ve got this thing with heights, man. You need to come down here.”

“No way,” the kid argued backing along the decrepit handrail using the upper beam to guide him.

“Wait! Okay, just… just wait,” Blair urged desperately before stopping to gather his nerve. “I’ll come up there then.”

“Blair! No!” Jim called moving forward when his partner began to climb the rail.

“Stop!” TJ shouted at the large detective as he released his hold on the brace above his head.

“Jim, it’s okay, I can do this,” Blair entreated. “Just wait. TJ, he’s going to stay on the bridge, I promise.”

“Be careful,” Jim advised gruffly stopping several feet away, Edwards a few steps farther back.

Jim watched anxiously as Blair took a second to mentally prepare himself. He swallowed hard and once again began to climb the rail. The strong breeze visibly pulled at him once he was at the top. Turning so he was facing TJ, he resolutely did not look down as he grasped the support beam behind him with both hands. Jim adjusted his hearing as Blair began to do what he did best; talk.

“So,” Blair began conversationally, if a little stiff. “What brings you up here?”

TJ laughed bitterly. “Did they teach you that in cop school?”

“No, it’s just something I picked up somewhere along the way. Talk to me, TJ,” Blair begged softly, trying hard to make eye contact with the distressed kid. “It looks like this may be your last chance. Doesn’t have to be, though. Nothing is so bad we can’t just climb down and go home.”

The strained laugh turned into sobs and the rail shook with the weight of them. “You’re wrong!” he shouted. “I should have done something. I could have saved her!”

Blair licked at his dry lips as he tried to make sense of the information. “Saved who?”

TJ shook his head as his gaze drifted out over the expanse of air in front of him. “I don’t know her name. I think she might have been a freshman, I hadn’t ever seen her before.”

Blair waited silently, but slowly crept forward so he could hear the student’s much lower voice, keeping one hand clamped firmly to the support at his back. Jim mimicked his movements taking the opportunity to move closer as well.

“She was at the frat party Friday night. I think somebody slipped her something or she might have just passed out. We found her asleep on the couch after everybody else left,” TJ sighed morosely. “It started as a joke. Some of the guys started doing stuff to her to see what they could get away with without waking her up, but she was out cold. It got out of hand.”

“They raped her?” Blair asked quietly.

“What?”

“I asked if they raped her,” he said again a little louder.

TJ nodded as fresh tears began to flow down his face, dried almost immediately by the force of the cold wind.

“Did you?”

“What? No!” TJ denied vehemently. “But I didn’t stop them either. A bunch of us just stood there and watched. Kenny Riley got the whole thing on video tape like it was a freakin’ sports event or something.”

“Who did it, TJ?”

TJ shook his head and held his arms away from his sides, leaning into the wind.

“It doesn’t have to end like this,” Blair pleaded. “You can help her now by putting away the guys who hurt her.”

“It’s too late to help her,” TJ explained sadly. “She woke up and started screaming right in the middle… they rolled her over and shoved her face into a pillow and by the time they… finished… she wasn’t breathing.”

“They killed her?” Blair breathed out harshly, sparing a glance over his shoulder to Jim.

Jim shook his head. He hadn’t heard anything about a student being murdered. Unconsciously he moved closer, hoping Blair wasn’t getting rattled.

“They didn’t mean to,” TJ swore.

“What did they do with her… after?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where is the body now?” Blair asked bluntly.

TJ flinched and took a long look down into the ravine. “I don’t know,” he answered at last.

“Who did it?” Jim asked loudly causing both of the men on the rail to jump. “Give us their names and we’ll see that justice is done.”

“There is no justice,” TJ stated flatly, suddenly drained of emotion.

“TJ,” Blair called out worriedly at the younger man’s change in demeanor. He let go of his support beam completely and balanced with his arms as he moved along the rail.

“Tommy Boy,” the student spat out suddenly.

“Thomas Randall?” Blair queried, almost close enough to touch the kid. “The football player?”

TJ nodded. “And Jeff Holt and Jared Ing.”

“With your testimony, we can put them away,” Blair promised, reaching out slowly with his right arm.

“You were always my favorite teacher,” TJ whispered, closing his eyes.

“What?” Blair asked as the words were carried away with the wind.

“I couldn’t believe you lied,” TJ added as he let himself fall slowly forward into thin air.

“No!” Blair screamed as he lurched after him, flailing for the back of TJ’s jacket.

Jim bolted across the remaining distance and caught Blair by his left arm a fraction of a second before he would have disappeared below the rail. Blair’s body slammed against the wrong side of the handrail and his jacket began to rip just as another pair of arms grasped Sandburg around the chest allowing Jim to adjust his hold and help pull his partner back over to safety.

“Thanks,” Jim uttered breathlessly to Edwards as they lowered Sandburg to sit with his back to the rail.

Still stunned, Blair didn’t move or speak.

“What did he say?” Edwards asked Blair, raising his voice a little to be heard.

Blair shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

“Give us a minute,” Jim requested and waited until Edwards reluctantly headed back toward the now extremely excited crowd at the edge of the bridge. “You did good, Chief,” he praised quietly, dropping a hand to rest on top of the curly brown hair.

“What did he say?” Blair unintentionally echoed Edwards as he raised his face to see his friend.

Jim paused guiltily for a second. “He said you were his favorite teacher,” he replied.

Blair swallowed and lowered his head to his knees. “Guess I made the six o’clock news,” he swore bitterly.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jim agreed with a final pat to Sandburg’s bowed head. “Stay here. I’ll go give ‘em the ‘ongoing investigation line’ to get ‘em off our backs and then we can get out of here.”

“What about TJ?” Blair asked without raising his head.

“It’ll be up to Search and Rescue to find him. Search anyway.”

Blair nodded as Jim walked back to face the crowd. “There is justice,” he murmured. “There has to be.”

“Well?” Sandburg queried expectantly looking up from the computer the second his partner entered the office. He winced as he repositioned himself noting his ribs were still a little sore from the acrobatics the day before.

“Two things,” Jim replied with a sigh as he seated himself on the edge of the desk they shared, “and you’re not going to like either one of them. I don’t.”

“They’re taking the case away from us,” Blair uttered matter-of-factly, turning his attention back to the screen.

Jim nodded dourly.

“I figured as much,” Blair went on without prompting. “It’s not exactly a cold case and they’re finding out it’s harder than they thought keeping us out of the news. Major Crime get it?”

“Yeah.”

Blair shrugged. “Status quo, then. What else?”

“Simon went to Judge Warren for the warrant on Kenny Riley’s tape and he turned him down flat. He said there was no compelling evidence of a crime.”

“Dumb bastard,” Blair hissed. “So what do we do now?”

“Simon wants you to tell the new DA word for word what TJ said on the bridge. He thinks she can sway Warren.”

“Can’t we just get another judge?”

“’Fraid not,” Jim sighed. “They usually stick together on these things around here. Once one of them turns you down it’s over. You got anything?”

“Um, yeah,” Blair tapped on the keyboard and the printer clattered to life. “A possible list of witnesses - - guys who live in the house and people who were at the party Friday night. A possible list of victims most of whom I’ve already spoken with on the phone - - only a couple left, but they’re long shots. And a state-wide list of missing persons from the FBI; broken down into age and gender.”

“Wow. You’ve been busy.”

“It’s because of me,” Blair said guiltily as he studied his hands on the desk.

Jim frowned and leaned forward. “What is?”

“Judge Warren… he advised me to never appear before him in his court room.”

“What? When?” Jim asked incredulously.

“Way back at graduation. He cornered me at the reception and… let’s just say that I’m pretty sure he’s the one who put the bug in the commissioner’s ear about me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jim asked watching as Blair gathered the papers from the printer tray.

Blair shrugged. “You had a lot on your mind just then and besides, they hit us with the X-files so fast it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”

Jim found it hard to look anywhere but the floor until the feeling of culpability lifted a little. “Come on,” he finally managed. “Simon’s waiting.”

Jim set his jaw and stared at the barren wall but Blair let his gaze travel over the half-unpacked boxes that littered the room. The new DA hadn’t even settled in yet and already he was wishing she would move on.

“So what you’re telling me,” Angela Bright snapped haughtily, ticking the points off on her well-manicured fingertips, “is you’ve got no body, no evidence, and no living witnesses…”

“Yet,” Ellison interrupted. “We don’t want to tip our killers until we have the tape. We don’t want to take the chance they’ll destroy it if they haven’t already.”

“If it ever existed,” Bright argued before turning her attention back to Captain Banks. “All you’ve got right now is the say so of a cop wannabe with a history of perpetrating a spectacular hoax on the community less than a year ago and his has been partner with a history of a bad temper and at least one black mark on his record pertaining to an illegal wiretap. Not exactly stellar references here,” she taunted, ignoring the blatant glares all around.

“We have names. The tape is all the evidence we’ll need,” Banks argued holding up a hand to appease an angry Jim Ellison. “If you’ll just help us convince the judge to issue the damn search warrant.”

“Get the hell out of my office and take these two losers with you,” the DA admonished.

Blair stalked out the door without looking back while Jim paused for a moment to glare at the shiny little woman behind the desk before turning in disgust and following his partner. He remained tuned to the conversation as he walked away.

“You can’t seriously be asking me to risk my reputation on this,” Bright asked unrepentantly.

“I’d stake my reputation, my job and my retirement on that ‘wannabe’,” Simon swore, sounding as furious as Jim had ever heard him. “And nobody will ever match that ‘has-been’s' arrest record. Nobody.”

“They didn’t find anything in TJ’s room?” Blair asked as they followed the trail that lead into the woods behind the row of fraternities.

“Not even a note,” Jim replied. “But his room was the only one they could legally search without a warrant. The suicide investigation did give Rafe and Brown a nice excuse to question the suspects though.”

“And?”

“Nothing concrete, but Henri said he got a lot of ‘guilty vibes’ from some of the residents. He’s confident someone will crack.”

“You mean somebody besides TJ,” Blair corrected sullenly.

Jim nodded and kept moving, scanning the woods for any sign of the victim.

“Still mad?” Jim asked after a long silent spell as they traipsed deeper into the woods.

“Oh yeah,” Blair assured. “Nothin’ like being called a wannabe cop first thing in the morning.”

“Try ‘has been’,” Jim grinned.

“Better than a ‘never was’,” Blair observed wryly. “Or ‘also ran’?”

“True,” Jim agreed. “Look, Chief, I’m sorry for all this.”

“Huh?”

“Wait…” Jim stopped and inhaled deeply before choking and gasping for breath.

“What?”

“Ugh… burned flesh. You’d better call Rafe and Brown,” he managed, clasping a handkerchief over his nose. “It’d probably be better if they’re the ones who actually find the body.”

Blair pulled out his phone and swept his gaze around the forest floor. “Can you pin point it?” he asked as he dialed, futilely sniffing the air.

“There,” Jim pointed to a ravine where there had been a recent rockslide. “We never would have found her by sight, she’s buried deep.”

“Must be, I don’t smell a thing. Good thing you do,” Blair mumbled.

“Easy for you to say,” Jim complained as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

In top news tonight, due to an anonymous tip Cascade police were able to locate the body of a sixteen year-old runaway from Seattle buried in the woods near Rainier University. Major Crime detectives gave no clue as to how they were able to identify the burned body within only 24 hours of…

“Well, it probably helped that they already had the short list of missing persons,” Jim drawled as he tossed the pair of socks he had just folded at the screen. “All they had to do was send for dental records.”

“No doubt,” Blair agreed absently, not raising his head from the folder he was intently studying.

…when Rainier made headlines only days ago as Tony Hoskins, Jr. jumped to his death from the Coal River Bridge where Channel Five was able to capture this troubling footage as the infamous Detective Blair Sandburg attempted…

“Please tell me they’re not going show that again,” Blair complained finally diverting his attention fully to the television.

“Come on, Chief, you know those yellow journalist are gonna milk this one for all it’s worth,” Jim grunted discontentedly as he clicked off the remote, unwilling to watch his partner’s near death even one more time.

Blair practically growled as he gestured in exasperation at the now blank TV screen. “I can't believe they tried to make me look like a hero and at the same time brought up all that shit about the press conference. They’re determined not to let anyone ever forget about that.”

Jim nodded his weary agreement, pushing back the ever-present remorse over the situation. “What’s the coroner’s report say?”

“Well, our little murderers are definitely amateurs,” Blair explained, glad to have a change of subject. “While they did a good job of hiding the body, they botched the destruction. Looks like they caved in the side of the hill before the fire could do too much damage. We may even be able to get DNA evidence.”

“Unfortunately, the tape didn’t fare so well,” Jim replied. “I understand Serena was only able to save a few frames.”

“They’re gonna start pulling in the suspects for questioning tomorrow.”

“I’d love to be in on those interviews,” Jim proclaimed with a predatory gleam in his eye.

“Yeah, I know. Me, too, but you heard Ms. Bright. She doesn’t want us anywhere near this case.”

Six Months Later

“What’s wrong, Simon?” the police commissioner asked in confusion. “I thought this would make your day.”

“It’s just not right, sir,” Simon swore softly as he sat in the chair across from his boss.

“I know it’s unusual, but we just couldn’t decide. Your unit works so well together we couldn’t pick just one detective. Personally I thought naming Major Crime for ‘Cop of the Year’ was a wonderful compromise. Even I have to admit I was a little surprised that after Ellison left things didn’t slow down.”

“That’s just it, sir,” Simon declared. “Ellison never left. And neither did Sandburg. They just stepped out of the limelight. I can’t name three major cases in the last year that one or both of them weren’t instrumental in the investigation.”

“Sandburg,” the commissioner growled. “I’m never gonna get that burr out from under my saddle.”

“He never lied, sir,” Simon insisted. “At least not until the press conference.”

“I know. I won’t ever forget that meeting with Ellison. The things he can do… wow. It’s just a damn shame we couldn’t keep him upstairs. I can’t believe how loyal he is to his partner.”

“Come on, sir, Sandburg took the brunt of the fallout over the whole mess. And I don’t really think you give him enough credit for his detective skills. I know he does a great job on the cold cases because he does a great job in Major Crime, he just doesn’t get any credit for it.”

“Are you telling me your people don’t deserve ‘Cop of the Year’?”

“No, sir,” Simon sighed in resignation. “I’m not saying that at all.”

Blair took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Angela Bright was the last person he ever wanted to see but when the DA requested a meeting and you happened to be a police detective, you went. “You wanted to see me?” he asked without inflection as he opened the door.

“Detective Sandburg, come in, please,” Bright answered without looking up from the papers on her desk. “Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

Shifting from foot to foot while standing in the door Blair glanced around the office. It appeared more settled this time; the DA had apparently made herself a home. He moved to the closest chair and eased into it as he slipped on his glasses to read the diplomas and certificates that lined the walls.

“Thank you for coming,” Bright said as she rounded the desk and shut the door.

“I had a choice?” Blair deadpanned.

Bright sighed and leaned against the desk directly in front of him. “Look, first of all, I owe you an apology.”

“For?”

“For a couple of things actually,” she replied. “I called you and your partner some names without really knowing anything about you, and that was very unprofessional of me. Then I dismissed you as insignificant when you had information about a murder and rape, which was a major mistake on my part.”

Blair didn’t answer but met her gaze with a practiced look of indifference.

“So… I’m sorry.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” Blair asked suspiciously, thumbing over his shoulder towards the door, “because I’ve got work to do.”

Bright huffed and rounded her desk to sit heavily in her chair. “What do you know about the Sinclair case?” she dropped the pleasantries and cut to the chase.

“The Sinclair case?” Blair asked in surprise.

“Yes, Kelsey Sinclair, that was the name of the runaway who was murdered in the frat house in the spring.”

“I know who she was,” Blair spat angrily. “Why are you asking me? I work in the basement, remember?”

“Please, detective, I need to pick your brain about this. We go to trial in less than a week and it looks like Thomas Randall might walk.”

“Why? What about the evidence?”

“It’s weak, against Randall anyway,” Bright admitted. “We’ve got Ing and Holt cold with DNA, but we think Randall probably used a condom and he doesn’t appear in any of the footage we were able to save. And no one, not Ing or Holt or any of the other accessories is willing to give up Randall.”

“Tommy Boy,” Blair muttered in disgust. “They’re probably too scared. He’s big and he’s mean and he’s got a well-deserved reputation.”

“Exactly.”

Blair sighed and gave up his uncaring front. “What can I do to help?”

“You’re absolutely sure you heard Tony Hoskins tell you Randall killed the girl?”

“Oh, yeah, I heard him.”

“Good. I want you to testify.”

Blair shook his head as he stood. “That’s a real bad idea.”

“We can protect you.”

“What?” Blair nearly shouted in frustration. “This isn’t about me. If you put me on the stand the defense will tear your case to ribbons. No. There has to be another way.”

“There’s not. We can call up your record with Special Investigations. I’ve looked at it and even I’m impressed. The police department will stand behind you.”

Blair removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before turning to go. “That would be a first,” he mumbled as he walked out.

Jim looked up at the soft sigh just the other side of the door. Whatever Sandburg had on his mind was obviously not something he wanted to share. Unclenching his own jaw Jim waited. Another minute passed before Blair opened the door and faked a smile.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked immediately.

Blair shrugged and went to the coffee machine. He dumped the filter and fished another out of the box. “Looks like we’re down to the last few filters. Maybe you should pilfer some more from the storage room,” he said.

“Why don’t you?” Jim argued, taking the bait but still trying to make sense of the body language that screamed ‘leave me alone’.

“Right,” Blair smirked. “If I got caught wouldn’t that be a laugh? I’d not only get fired, I’d get thrown in jail to boot.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jim grinned at the old joke.

Blair turned and for an instant didn’t school his expression. The raw grief and pain that flashed in his eyes spoke volumes. It was that bad, it had been that bad for the last year and it was only getting worse. Jim still fit in and could slip easily back into the groove any time he wanted, but not so with Blair. No matter how well he did his job, Blair would always be on the outside because he had lied to protect his partner.

“DA Bright wants me to testify at Tommy Boy’s trial,” Sandburg said roughly as he turned away from his stunned partner to measure up the coffee grounds.

Still reeling from the shock of what he’d seen in Blair’s eyes Jim almost missed the words. “What?” he asked.

“She wants me to take the stand and testify about what TJ told me. If I don’t, Randall will probably walk.”

“He’ll walk for sure if you do,” Jim muttered angrily. “God, Chief, how can she put you in that position? That’s so unfair.”

“To who? To Kelsey Sinclair? I’m sure she won’t mind when I let her killer back on the street because no one believes a word I say. Shit,” Blair exclaimed and sat suddenly on the floor beside the coffee maker. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you,” he mumbled as he buried his face in his hands.

“Blair,” Jim breathed guiltily as he slid out of the chair and onto his knees to join him in front of the desk.

“She was only sixteen, Jim. She didn’t deserve what happened to her,” Blair choked out. “And to top it off the one cop who heard the killer’s identity is the one that can’t help her. TJ was right. There is no justice.”

“Two. Two cops heard TJ on the bridge,” Jim corrected.

Blair huffed quietly. “Never work, man. The wind was too high. Edwards stood right there with you and he didn’t hear a thing. Besides the news crew has footage that shows how far away you were. It’ll never fly.”

“I know, but…”

“Forget I said anything, Jim. It’s not your problem,” Blair muttered and managed a small smile. He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door. “I’ve gotta run to the county clerk’s office and check over the deeds for the Welsh case. I’ll see you tonight. There’s a new episode of Buffy…”

“I thought you wanted coffee,” Jim interrupted huskily.

“I’ll stop at Starbuck’s,” Blair replied on his way out the door, his blasé veneer back in place.

Blair knocked on the door purposefully this time and didn’t wait for Bright to call out before he swung it open keeping his hand on the knob as he leaned into the office interrupting the meeting inside. “I’ll do it,” he said catching the DA’s eye.

She didn’t smile, but nodded her head once in understanding and possibly relief.

With a single, sincere nod back Blair sealed the deal then closed the door and walked away. He still had a job to do and until they told him different, he was sure as hell gonna do it.

Jim entered the court and did a slow circuit of the room scanning for anything out of place. Somehow the media had gotten wind of Sandburg’s upcoming testimony and had made a big deal out of it, so naturally it was standing room only. Bright had put Blair on standby and he’d elected to stay in the office with his beeper rather than hang out in the corridor in the courthouse. Jim heartily approved since there was no telling when exactly he would be called and there was no sense in giving the journalists, or anyone else for that matter, another crack at him.

Thomas Randall sat up front with an arrogant smirk on his face. Bright had no real evidence and no one believed Sandburg’s testimony would hurt him. He was practically a free man already unless someone could get one of his fraternity brothers to turn on him and at the moment Brown, Rafe and Connor were at the jail each working on a different one. But the likelihood of that was slim and none since TJ had proved to be the only one with a conscience and even he hadn’t had the guts to face Tommy Boy.

The token threat to Sandburg had come in the form of a midnight phone call and although Jim couldn’t prove Randall had been behind it, he knew down to his bones he was. Blair had taken it in stride and Jim thought maybe he had been expecting it as well. Once again, however he realized how good his partner had become at hiding his feelings and Jim honestly couldn’t read him anymore. That bothered Jim more than anything because it drove home just how badly Jim had screwed up when he’d let Sandburg take the fall for the dissertation mess.

“It’s a damn shame. Someone needs to take Sandburg out of the equation,” a man a few seats away whispered.

“If Randall walks, it’ll be because that dumb bitch put the fraud on the stand,” another man agreed whole-heartedly.

Jim cleared his throat loudly and glared when the two men turned to look at him. One of them loosened his tie nervously and turned back around but the other tipped his head in recognition. “Well, Ellison, looks like the kid was right about your ears after all,” he drawled softly as he opened a pad and made a few notes.

Narrowing his eyes, Jim recognized the man as Trent Calvert who wrote a daily column for the local paper and who frequently berated the PD for hiring Sandburg. Before he could speak there was motion at the front of the room.

“All rise,” the bailiff intoned.

“Who’s Sandburg?” another man asked Calvert timidly and very quietly as everyone began to stand.

“You don’t know about Sandburg? Well let me fill you in…”

Blair paced the office, angry that he couldn’t keep his mind on his work. He had things to do but damned if he could concentrate. Facing Randall was no big deal; he was just another bully as far as Blair was concerned. But getting on the stand and opening himself up as a target for the defense was another matter. In the larger scheme of things he knew it was the right thing to do. Kelsey was the only consideration at the moment and Blair was certain he could put away his own wounded pride; he just didn’t want to let her down.

Then there was the whole Sentinel issue. He didn’t want to have to lie on the stand but depending on how the deep the defense dug into the old, constantly salted wounds, perjury might be unavoidable. It wasn’t like he hadn’t lied about it before, and he had known when he accepted the badge that it might someday pop up to bite him on the ass yet again, but it didn’t make it any easier.

The phone rang and he waited until the second ring to pick it up. “Scully,” he said without thinking.

Jim’s surprised laugh on the other end brought a small smile to his face. “Hey, Chief, how’s it going?”

“It’s not,” Blair sighed. “I haven’t managed to do anything constructive all morning. How’s the circus?”

“Oh, it’s a circus all right. We’re just waiting for the main event.”

“You mean the main course,” Blair corrected. “They’re gonna eat me alive,” he joked. “Jim?” he asked when the silence on the other end of the line grew longer.

“You don’t have to do this, Blair. Maybe there’s a way we can make this right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll take the stand…”

“Damn. Sorry, my beeper just went off,” Blair interrupted. “Listen, I’ll be there in a few.” He hung up the phone before Jim could reply. He knew where Ellison was headed with this and he didn’t like it one bit.

As he slid into his jacket a shadow passed unnoticed across the glass-plated door. He clipped on a tie, pulled his hair back and looked around to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Stepping through the door he realized the overhead lighting was off but didn’t have time to wonder about it as a sharp blow crashed against the back of his head forcing him down to his knees. He reached for his gun but the second blow sent him face first into the linoleum.

A brown shoe appeared in his vision but he never heard the softly spoken ‘I’m sorry’ before the lights went out.

Jim closed his phone but didn’t go back inside, deciding instead to wait for his partner on the steps. They needed to talk and Bright could damn well wait until they did. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Calvert approaching him.

“What do you want?” he asked turning to face one of the main people who had caused Blair so many problems by refusing to let the furor die down.

“Easy there, detective. I just want to talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Jim replied but then wheeled back around angrily. “No, that’s not entirely true. I do want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Calvert said casually as he lit a cigarette.

“Why? Why can’t you just leave Sandburg alone? He’s a great cop and a damned fine human being so why can’t you just let the past rest?”

Calvert shrugged and took a deep drag before letting the smoke seep slowly out of his mouth and nose. “If Sandburg’s such a good man why don’t you come clean?”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m sure you’re right. It would take a big man to live like he has for the past year. Think of all the shit he’s had to swallow to protect your lying ass. He must be a hell of a friend.”

Jim swallowed and looked away. Things suddenly made sense; Calvert kept up the pressure on Blair to force Jim’s abilities into the open. But it hadn’t worked because Jim had turned a blind eye to the crap that had gone down right under his nose.

“Don’t tell me you believe all that Sentinel stuff,” Jim heard himself saying with apparent ease.

“Of course not,” Calvert assured him with a grin. “But if you ever want to clear his name, give me a call.” He dropped the cigarette and opened his wallet pulling out a business card, which he slipped into Jim’s jacket pocket. “In the meantime, I can’t wait to see Sandburg on the stand.”

“Go to hell,” Jim swore softly.

Calvert laughed as he turned and climbed the steps. “Someday. Maybe we can room together.”

Jim stewed for twenty more minutes before he decided Sandburg must have braved the crowds and gone in through the front door. As he turned to head back in his cell went off.

“Ellison.”

“Jim, Blair’s been attacked,” Simon said worriedly. “The ambulance is here now, meet us at the hospital.”

“How bad?” Jim managed through a suddenly dry throat.

“Bad. Don’t worry about court, I’ll call Bright next.”

“Yes, sir,” Jim answered automatically as he ran for the truck.

“…remains in guarded condition with a concussion and swelling to the brain…”

“…subdural hematoma, which the doctors have opted at this time to try to manage with medication…”

“…brutally attacked while on his way to testify…”

“Detective Blair Sandburg…”

Jim clicked off the TV with a glare. “I can’t believe it’s on every goddamned channel,” he swore. The heart monitor picked up where the drone of the television left off, never letting the room fall to silence.

“Believe it,” Simon sighed as he leaned forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees, anything to change positions for a while. “Wanna go for more coffee?”

“Nah,” Jim leaned back and closed his eyes. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

Simon absently nodded but didn’t get up. ‘If he wakes up’ hung heavy in the air between them.

“Calvert knows,” Jim said suddenly. “About me.”

“Are you sure?”

This time Jim nodded.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Simon inquired curiously.

“Nothing to do, is there?” Jim returned quietly. “Did you know Blair was miserable?” he added several minutes later. “Because I didn’t. I was just so glad everything worked out for us that I missed the fact it hadn’t worked out at all.”

“He wrote the damn book,” Simon argued, anything to offset the rapidly spiraling morale of his friend.

“Yeah. That was the original agreement.”

“But not to publish it…”

“Uh-uh,” Jim interrupted. “That was not Blair’s fault. It wasn’t fair to let him suffer the consequences alone. I mean, ultimately I chose to be a Sentinel. I never had any guarantee I could keep it a secret. So why did I lay the whole thing on Blair? In the end, I didn’t give up a thing.”

“Yes you did. You gave up Major Crime,” Banks corrected.

“So did he, Simon. And we both know he’s a good cop, with or without the badge.”

“Have you ever told him that?”

“Once.”

“Then he knows.”

Jim swallowed. “Can you stay for awhile? I need to see the DA.”

“Sure,” Simon said and moved closer to the bed to take one of Sandburg’s hands. “I’ll be right here. He won’t wake up alone.”

Ellison opened the door without knocking, but he knew he wasn’t interrupting anything. Bright sat slumped behind her desk staring off into space.

“How is he?” she asked as Jim edged his way in and closed the door.

“The same. So what are you gonna do without your star witness?”

“Well,” Bright sighed thoughtfully as she leaned back even further in her chair, “the incident makes Randall look guilty. I heard through the grapevine Sandburg had been threatened.”

“I was there when he got the phone call,” Jim confirmed.

The DA’s eyes lit up and she sat up straighter in her chair. “Great, okay, so then we put you on the stand. I mean, it’s not much, but it might be enough to sway the jury.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to testify.”

“I’ll set it up,” Bright replied as she reached for the phone.

Jim reached out and grasped her wrist. “No, not about the threat, that’s grasping at straws and you know it.”

“Then what?”

“I was on the bridge. I heard TJ tell Blair about Tommy Boy.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” Bright questioned, sounding frustrated and angry. “I never would have had to call Sandburg. He was a piss-poor witness from the start, but he was all I had.”

“You’re way off about that, lady. Sandburg told the truth in his dissertation. He lied to protect me and I let him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am a Sentinel.”

“Look detective,” Bright smirked. “Don’t come in here…”

“I can prove it.”

“You’re gonna have to.”

Rubbing his sweaty palms down the front of his pants, Jim settled near the back of the courtroom on the aisle. Bright stood at the front talking to one of her assistants as a bailiff handed her a note. She read it and immediately sought out Jim’s eyes.

“All rise.”

Jim tuned out the usual routine as the trial got underway for the day as he mentally prepared himself. Everything was about to change and he wasn’t as upset as he thought he might be. In fact a cool sense of relief began to spring up inside of him.

The door opened and Connor stepped through reaching back for someone.

“The prosecution calls…”

Jim tensed as he started to rise.

“…Kenny Riley.”

Connor encouraged the young man with a smile then stepped over Jim to sit beside him as the boy moved to the front of the courtroom to take the stand.

Confused, Jim stared at Megan before turning to find Angela Bright staring back at him. “It’s all right, Jim. I think we’ve got him now,” she muttered under her hand. Then she winked and went back to work to nail Thomas Randall with her eyewitness to the crime.

As the jury made their way out of the courtroom to begin deliberations Jim loosened his tie and moved against the flow of bodies toward the bench. “Ms. Bright,” he called and she looked up with a satisfied smile.

“Why?” he asked reaching over the rail to grasp her arm as if she might try to escape.

“Jim,” she said softly. “You know why. Detective Connor was able to convince Riley to testify at the last minute and let’s face it; an eyewitness beats a second-hand confession hands down.”

“I know, but…”

“Listen to me, detective. This was not about you and it was not about Detective Sandburg. This was about a young girl who was raped and murdered and we didn’t need your issues, amazing as they are, clouding the water. You’re going to have to come to terms with your problems some other way.”

“You’re right,” Jim agreed shamefacedly. “I know Blair would be ecstatic to see you nail that bastard Randall.”

“Tell you what, detective. You find me the proof and I’ll nail him for the attempted murder of your partner, too, even if he just ordered it.”

“He didn’t do it,” Connor announced from over Jim’s shoulder.

Startled that he hadn’t heard her approach Jim turned to her and stared open mouthed. “What?”

“I just talked to Henri. Kelsey Sinclair’s uncle confessed this morning to assaulting Blair. He even brought in the tire iron he hit him with complete with Blair’s dried blood on it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Bright said. “Why did he do it?”

Megan sighed and looked uncomfortable. “He heard people talking about what a horrible witness Blair would be, how if he got on the stand Randall would get away with the crime. He said he wasn’t trying to kill him, he just wanted to ‘take him out of the equation.’”

“God,” Jim groaned. “So why’d he turn himself in?”

“He said his conscience was eating him alive anyway and then he read that article in this morning’s paper…”

“What article?” Jim was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. “Excuse me for a minute.”

Jim stopped in the doorway with a newspaper stuck under his arm and smiled gently as he took in the scene. Sandburg’s eyes were open and loosely trained on Simon’s face as he listened to the older man finish Trent Calvert’s daily column.

“… We as the media have shirked our duties to deliver the news without bias by trying to manipulate and manufacture our own versions of the truth. I am guiltier than most as I didn’t merely jump on the bandwagon but rather commandeered it for my own agenda. For this, kind readers, I offer my sincerest apologies and a pledge; it won’t happen again.

“And lastly, I humbly beg the forgiveness of Detective Blair Sandburg, who unwittingly became a pawn in this ugly game. As a target he played into our hands by refusing to rise to the bait. If indeed he did defraud our community, and I’m not yet convinced that he did, he did so without malice and came clean in a public forum much to his own detriment.

“Why now, you may ask, have I changed my mind? Several things actually, from the possibility that justice could quite conceivably be miscarried in a heinous crime because of our interference, to the willingness of a young man to put aside his own physical and emotional well-being to help others. No one who has seen the oft-repeated footage from the Coal River Bridge can deny this aspect of Sandburg.

“As he prepared to put himself on the line yet again to testify against a man who wouldn’t hesitate to see him dead, and worse opening himself up to the scorn and ridicule of the media and his peers once again, Sandburg thought not of himself but of the victim. For these actions the young detective now lies in a coma from which the doctors are uncertain he will ever wake. My apology may well be too little, too late, but I offer it anyway along with a reminder to my fellow citizens of Cascade; we have all made mistakes. Let’s let the past rest and allow this youthful policeman his dignity and time to heal.”

Simon lay down the paper and glanced up at Jim.

“Well, isn’t that special,” Sandburg slurred.

“You been drinking, Chief?” Jim asked as he swallowed compulsively and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, yeah, vodka neat,” Blair replied with a drugged glimmer in his eye as he fingered the IV tubing. “What happened at the trial?”

“The jury’s got it. We should know something soon. I came as soon as Simon called to tell me you were awake.”

“I don’t know about awake,” Blair drawled, blinking his heavy eyes. “Feels more like a dream.”

“As long as it’s not a nightmare,” Jim said placing a hand lightly on Blair’s chest.

“Not as long as you’re here, man,” Blair sighed, giving in to the call of sleep.

“Couch?” Jim asked as he maneuvered his roommate into the loft.

“Jim, I’m fine. Chill a little,” Blair admonished as he pulled away from the restraining hand on his elbow.

“Just take it easy,” Jim ordered, unrepentant as he took Blair’s bag into his room and began to unpack it.

Blair gathered the huge pile of mail and shifted through it as he shuffled toward the couch. He slipped his finger under the flap of the first thing to catch his eye, a thick cream-colored envelope with his name in calligraphy on the front.

“What’s that?” Jim asked as he returned to the livingroom and began to sort the rest of the mail Sandburg had abandoned on the coffee table.

“Ah… yadda, yadda, yadda,” Blair mumbled as he read. “Invitation to the ‘Cop of the Year’ ceremony. Think I’ll pass this year,” he added as he sent the invitation flying with a flick of his wrist.

“Yeah, me too,” Jim said dropping an identical envelope back on the table before handing Blair his sizable stack of mail.

“Jeez, what is all this?”

“Get well cards?”

Blair huffed. “Doubtful,” he said cynically.

“Well?”

“Okay, that one actually was a get well card. And so is this one. Shit, this one’s from Sergeant Harris, better check it for explosives…” Blair leaned back on the couch and regarded his partner seriously.

“Come on, Chief, Harris was the one who found you. He might have even saved your life. I know he called the hospital at least twice to check on you.”

“Well, that’s one cop who cares then.”

“More than one. Everyone’s finally coming around,” Jim said encouragingly.

Blair pitched the handful of cards toward the table. “We need to talk,” he uttered seriously.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “I guess we do.”

They sat for several minutes in awkward silence before the phone rang. “Saved by the bell,” Blair joked as he reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Sandburg, good I need to talk to you,” Simon replied. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, Simon. A little tired I guess.”

Jim stood up and gathered the unread mail to put it back on the table by the door then he wandered into the kitchen.

“Are you up to attending the ceremony tomorrow night?”

“Uh… not really.”

“Come on, kid. I need you. Ellison won’t show up without you.”

“You’re kidding me. Again? How? Does he know?” Blair whispered excitedly.

“I didn’t say that,” Simon corrected coolly. “Can I count on you?”

Blair blew out a breath and met Jim’s concerned eyes as he returned from the kitchen with a worried look on his face. “Yeah, sure man. No problem.”

“Good. Thanks, Sandburg. See you there.”

“Yeah,” Blair muttered unhappily. “See you.”

“What was that all about?” Jim asked.

Blair shrugged. “Simon talked me into going tomorrow night.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Yeah,” Blair said with a shake of his still sore head. “That’s what I said. So are you in?”

“Try to leave here without me,” Jim teased as he settled next to Blair on the couch. “So? You ready to talk?”

“Nah. Later, okay?”

Jim nodded. “Sure, Chief. We’ve got nothing but time.”

They waited until the last minute to show up, not to make an entrance, but to slip in unnoticed and avoid any unpleasant scenes as Blair’s feigned indifference was quickly slipping into open resentment.

If Blair hadn’t already known, his friends from Major Crime would have given away the game as soon as he and Jim arrived at the ballroom. Familiar detectives surrounded them with pats on the backs and welcoming handshakes and hugs. Blair let himself relax in the circle of warmth with Jim by his side and accepted a cup of punch and a kiss from Megan.

“Sandy,” she breathed into his ear. “We were beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

“I said I’d get him here. I didn’t say we’d be on time,” Blair argued playfully.

“Shhh,” Simon hissed out a warning as the police commissioner took the podium.

Blair suppressed a grin and couldn’t help but be proud of his partner as he listened to the top cop praise everything from the decorations to the chef.

“And now for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. After careful deliberation and more than a few late nights the committee was unable to single out a policeman for this year’s award. It was a tough year for all of us but Major Crime proved to be as efficient and hardworking as ever as they overcame more than their share of adversity…”

Jim frowned and glanced at Simon who was also frowning at the commissioner.

“Cop of the Year goes to all the detectives of Major Crime. Captain Banks, please step forward to receive the plaque for your unit.”

A weak round of applause went up from the audience but all eyes fell to the solemn group that appeared less than appreciative of the award. Simon cleared his throat as he adjusted the microphone, sending an angry glare toward the head table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, while we certainly appreciate the thought, as a group we have decided that we cannot accept this award. There are extenuating circumstances surrounding our apparent successes and we feel the time has come to bring to light one of our hidden resources.”

Blair smiled and patted his partner on the back knowingly.

“The contributions of this individual have gone unacknowledged for long enough and Major Crime is pleased to pass on ‘Cop of the Year’ to one of our own… Detective Blair Sandburg.”

The room went silent and Blair gaped at his partner who appeared just as shocked as he felt. As one the detectives surrounding them began to clap enthusiastically, slowly the room in general followed suit until everyone was on their feet. Cries of ‘speech, speech’ filled the air and Blair looked around in amazement.

“You knew?” he asked quietly.

Jim shook his head and wiped at a mysteriously wet eye. “No,” he assured. “I didn’t know.”

Blair found himself propelled along toward the stage and all but staggered as he was pushed and prodded to reluctantly stand next to Simon at the podium.

The applause continued until Blair reached up and pulled the microphone down to his level. “Is this thing on?” he joked, bringing a round of laughter as Simon pressed the award into his hands and backed away. Slowly the crowd quieted and waited for his response.

Clearing his throat Blair looked around before settling his gaze on the back wall. “Forgive me if I freak,” he teased. “I seem to have developed a phobia of microphones.”

Another round of laughter erupted, the crowd seeming to fall to Sandburg’s self-effacing charms. They settled quickly as Blair lowered his gaze.

“Umm… I don’t know what to say. While I appreciate the gesture, I can’t accept this.”

The room went silence interrupted only as Blair cleared his throat. “Look, um, I’m just a wannabe. I’ll never be a real cop and it’s time to stop playing this game. It became very clear to me recently that if I’m not accepted here I’m not the only one it affects. There are far reaching consequences and I’m not gonna be responsible for letting a cold blooded killer walk free…”

“Randall was prosecuted. He got life,” someone disagreed from the audience.

“This time. I’m not gonna put myself in that position again. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m sorry, Simon, Jim,” he said as he turned away from the lights and leaving the award on the podium made his way down the steps. He stopped at the head table and fished out his badge, which he dropped unceremoniously into the commissioner’s lap before continuing to the exit.

No one made a sound as Jim pulled out his own badge and tossed it to the startled man as well before he followed.

“You’re a damned coward,” Simon muttered to the police commissioner, his badge already in his hand. He laid it on the table but three more landed on top of it before he could turn to go. They didn’t reach the door before the avalanche of badges began.

Jim caught up with his partner just outside of the building and they walked together in silence until they reached the truck.

“I’m sorry,” Blair blurted out as Jim unlocked the passenger door. “That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you I was gonna quit.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Jim insisted, laying a hand on Blair’s shoulder but not looking him in the eye.

“What for?” Blair said wearily as he rubbed his throbbing head.

“Let’s get you home. It was probably too soon for you to be out running around anyway.”

“Sure, mom,” Blair teased offhandedly as he climbed into the truck. He stopped and caught Jim by the hand as he tried to buckle him in. “What am I gonna do now?” he asked, the uncertainty in his eyes telling.

“I don’t know what we’re gonna do,” Jim assured with a half-smile, clicking the seatbelt into place. “But I know we’ll do it together.”

“It’s a shame,” Blair mumbled. “I had a good lead on the Welsh case.”

Jim laughed. “We’ll pass the information on to the next lucky contestant to get the X-files,” he said as he closed the door and rounded the truck.

“At least without me, you can go back to Major Crime,” Blair offered before Jim even got his door open.

When he unlocked the driver’s door and settled under the steering wheel Jim turned and glared at the smaller man for a minute. “Didn’t I make myself clear? I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Blair dropped his gaze. “Sorry.”

“No, Chief, that’s what I keep trying to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly,” Jim said bitterly as he started the engine and backed out of the crowded lot.

“I knew I should have turned off the damn thing last night,” Jim muttered incoherently as he fumbled for the phone. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was way too early for a social call. “What?” he growled into the receiver.

“Detective Ellison?” a vaguely familiar voice asked in a chipper tone. “Did I wake you?”

“Calvert,” Jim greeted unhappily. “What the hell do you want now?”

“I thought I’d call and see if you wanted to comment on the mass resignation at last night’s ‘Cop of the Year’ ceremony.”

“Two hardly equals a mass resignation,” Jim sighed.

“Are you serious? You don’t know?”

“Enough with the questions, what the hell are you fishing for?”

“Detective, after you and Sandburg quit last night thirty-seven other detectives resigned as well. Every single member of Major Crime walked out, including the unit secretary.”

Jim raised his head and listened hard to make sure Sandburg was still asleep. “I didn’t know that,” he replied.

“So you also didn’t know that half of the rest of the force has threatened the blue-flu if Sandburg isn’t officially awarded ‘Cop of the Year’ and reinstated immediately into Major Crime?”

“He doesn’t want to come back,” Jim replied. “Maybe you can inform them of that in your column.”

“Even after this overwhelming show of support?”

“The detectives were never the problem. The uniforms were the ones who took your damn rabble-rousing to heart.”

“I already apologized for that.”

Jim snorted. “Right.”

“You don’t believe I was sincere?”

“Let’s just say it was a hell of a change of heart. So no, I don’t think you were sincere. I think you just changed tactics to get your damned story.”

“I can make him look like a hero.”

“He is a hero.”

“What do you say, detective? Tell me the whole story and I’ll print it with any slant you want. We can downplay your abilities and concentrate on Sandburg’s sacrifice. It’s been a year. How much longer can this go on?”

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he said at last, realizing he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “There’s a coffee shop on the corner of Third and Emerson. Meet me there in an hour.”

It took Blair almost a minute before he realized the incessant pounding was not coming from inside his own skull for a change. “Jim?” he groused as he pulled a pillow over his tender head. There was a pause for several minutes before the knocking began again, this time accompanied by a voice calling his name.

“Detective Sandburg? Are you home?”

“Give me a sec,” Blair yelled as he managed to sit upright and struggle into a pair of sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair and pulled on a robe as he staggered into the livingroom, undid the lock and pulled the front door open.

A sea of uniforms crowded the small hallway all the way to the elevator.

“Jim?” Blair called out glancing up at his roommate’s bedroom.

“Uh, Detective Ellison’s pickup is gone,” one of the cops offered helpfully.

“What’s going on?” Blair questioned, crossing his arms over his chest in an unconscious pose of self-protection.

“Can we come in?” Sergeant Harris asked from a few paces back.

“All of you?” Blair asked, wondering if the pounding he’d been promised so many times was about to take place. “Jim?” he called over his shoulder one more time just in case.

“Blair,” a friendly face spoke up from even farther back. “We just want to talk to you.”

“We’re on your side,” Harris confirmed.

“All of you?” Blair asked again in surprise.

“Yeah,” Harris said guiltily as a chorus of voices agreed. “We know that a small but vocal group of our ranks has been harassing you. While we are the majority, we foolishly kept quiet thinking it would pass.”

“Nobody wanted to make waves,” another voice cut in. “But we know better now.”

“What changed your minds?” Blair asked dejectedly. “Why now?”

“Actually, we decided last week when it looked like none of those kids was gonna speak up for that poor little girl. The similarity of the situation sort of got out attention. We decided to get involved. I was coming to talk to you about it when I found you outside your office,” Harris explained. “Then last night when all the detectives quit we decided it was time for us to make a stand, too.”

“Whoa, back up,” Blair said. “Who quit what?”

Jim looked up grimly as Calvert entered the small shop and eagerly made his way over. “Coffee,” he told the waitress as he sat down.

“How did you know?” Jim asked calmly.

Calvert stared as if in awe. “I didn’t,” he proclaimed. “Not for sure. But certain things didn’t add up.”

“Such as?”

“Sandburg mostly. It didn’t make sense that he gave up without a fight. I mean, he never really turned in his dissertation. Rainier didn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“His mother gave it to a publisher,” Jim cut in.

“Doesn’t matter. Sandburg didn’t turn it in, in fact I understand he forbid the publisher from using it. He could have, hell he should have sued the university for his doctorate and taken that low life scum to the cleaner, but he didn’t. Instead he got up in front of a bunch of sharks and declared himself a fraud. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t figure out why he did it. Kept coming up with the same answer; he did it to protect you.”

Jim nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “So you railroaded him.”

Calvert winced. “I suppose it looks that way to you. I just wanted to get to the truth.”

“Well, I guess it worked because I’m about to give you the truth. But so help me if you treat him with anything less than the respect he deserves I’ll make sure you regret it,” Jim threatened. “Do we understand each other?”

“We do,” Calvert swore as he pulled out a tape recorder and placed it on the table. Jim nodded so he turned it on.

Finishing his coffee Jim swallowed and began. “I guess we need to start with Peru…”

Six Months Later

Blair answered the phone with an evil grin. “Has-beens and wannabes,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Dammit, Blair, that is not funny.”

“Oh hi, Angela,” he said innocently. “What can I do for you?”

“Well for starters you can stop answering your phone with that ridiculous line. Oh, God! You don’t always answer the phone that way do you?”

Blair laughed outright. “Of course not. After the police commissioner got a very special X-files greeting from Jim, he had caller ID installed down here for us,” he explained.

“Typical juvenile male behavior,” the DA muttered darkly.

“You wanted something, Ms. Bright?” Blair asked with mock indignation.

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you good work on the Welsh case. I can’t believe this thing is going to trial after twenty-two years.”

Blair buffed his nails on his shoulder. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder,” he replied smugly.

“Oh? Really? I must have missed that at law school,” she shot back sarcastically.

“Smartass.”

“Hey, I’m in good company. So you ready to testify?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Great. I’ll see you Monday morning. Wear that nice blue shirt that brings out your eyes…”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Blair warned. “That’s bordering on harassment.”

“You’re no fun. Where’s Jim?”

“Uh, last time I saw him he was up in Major Crime. Simon wanted him to sniff some evidence or something… I don’t know.”

“So this new Special Investigations thing is working out?”

“Like a charm,” Blair smiled. “He gets to do his thing and I get to do mine but we always seem to meet in the middle. Gotta go. Somebody’s at the door.”

“Be good.”

“Always am,” Blair replied glibly as he hung up the phone. “Come on in.”

“Hey, Dr. Sandburg,” Sergeant Harris said as he peeked in the door. “Jim needs you at a crime scene. He says he’s having trouble focusing.”

“Sure,” Blair said as he grabbed his coat. “Can you give me a lift? The Volvo’s in the shop.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but why don’t you just get a new one?”

“Oh come on,” Blair began as he locked the door behind him. “It’s a classic, you don’t just throw it out because it doesn’t always work.”

“It’s just a car,” Harris observed.

“What? Oh, no, I was talking about Jim,” he laughed.

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.