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Partners         
by  Kikkimax
 

Detective Jay Brady walked into Major Crimes to get his first look around. He was a few minutes early for his appointment with his new boss, Captain Simon Banks. As he scanned the room he wondered which one would be his. He was used to the best after all. It was an important decision. It could make all the difference in the world. He wasn't looking for a desk. He was looking for a partner.

The first person to catch his eye was an attractive lady, talking on the phone and typing at the computer at the same time. She glanced up at him briefly, but she appeared to be caught up in her work. He decided to pass on her. Not that he had any thing against working with women, he just didn't think he could keep it all business with this one. She was his type, and that Australian sounding accent was all ready driving him crazy. Nope, he'd save this one for off duty hours. He had a rule about keeping romance out of the office, but there was always room for compromise. When she looked up again he flashed her one of his award winning smiles. Contact. She smiled back at him shyly before nearly dumping her coffee into her lap and tuning back in to her phone interview.

Jay allowed his gaze to travel. It next came to rest on a handsome, dark haired man in an expensive suit. Very professional. This man was deep in conversation with a bald black man in a flower-print shirt and jeans. They were quite a contrast to each other, yet they seemed to meld well. Natural, easy. They were obviously partners. Jay decided to check out their records. Maybe he would break up the team and take the best one.

None of the other occupants in the buzzing bullpen caught his eye. They were either too old, or out of shape, or...whew...that guy was ugly. Jay knew he couldn't work with him. Too distracting. No, Jay would be particular about his partner. His partner had to be able to keep up. And Jay was not the easiest man to keep up with. He was a man of action. Of course he would take who ever the boss gave him. To start with anyway. Ultimately though, he would pick his own partner. Someone he could trust. Someone he could work with on a daily basis. Someone to watch his back. Even way back in his college quarterback days he knew the importance of good linemen.

Then HE walked in. Tall, broad shouldered, definite military bearing. As the man settled at a desk he checked Jay out as well, with ice cold blue eyes. That had to be Ellison. Jay had only been in the station for an hour and a half, but already he had heard Ellison's name three times. Physically, he and Ellison would make a formidable duo. Might be a problem if nobody wanted to be Robin. Batman and Superman, maybe. Taking off his hat, he decided to introduce himself when a door swung open and a tall black man stepped out.

"Brady?"

Simon watched the man who stepped through the door into the Major Crimes bullpen and slowly sized up the place. It had to be his new detective, Jay Brady, hired sight unseen away from Houston PD's best homicide squad. Simon liked to hire from within the department, but pickins had been slim, and the position needed to be filled right away. This man's resume had crossed his desk at the right time. Have gun, will travel. Simon moved to the door of his office to get a better look at him. 

The man's body language screamed cop as he took in each detail of his surroundings, categorized it and filed it away for future reference. Brady stood every bit as imposing as Jim Ellison. He radiated a familiar confidence and certainty. The man's record was impressive. Simon wondered, after seeing the man, if he could handle another hard ass, hard headed detective. Suddenly the man smiled. It lit up his face and softened his features, reminding Simon of another someone who frequented the bullpen.

Brady pulled off his Stetson and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. It wasn't a crew cut, but well within department regs. Full, but not long. He wore new jeans and a button down shirt under a sport coat. And cowboy boots. Real honest to God goat ropers, all shined up, and with a point so sharp you could kill a cockroach in a corner.

Simon pushed the door open and called to the man, "Brady?"

"Captain Banks?" Brady asked as he moved toward his new boss. His brown eyes warmed as he smiled again and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Sir," he boomed in a deep Texas drawl.

Simon shook the offered hand, noting the firmness of it, and gestured the man into his office. "Come on in. Have a seat."

Brady entered the office and took the offered chair. "Thank you, Captain." He placed his briefcase flat on the floor and sat his hat carefully on it, brim up.

"You're right on time. I like that," Simon began. "How was your trip."

"Just fine, Sir. Let me say how happy I am to be here. I can't wait to get settled in and do some police work."

"Well, there's plenty of it around here," Simon agreed. "We need to get you into personnel this morning, though."

"Already taken care of, Sir. I stopped by this morning and started the ball rolling. All I need now is a desk and a partner."

"Hey, Jim, What cha working on?" Blair asked as he hung up his jacket and dropped his backpack to the floor. He kicked it gently under the edge of the desk to get it out of the way. Jim stood and began to rummage through the uncharacteristic clutter on top of the desk.

"Damn, Chief. We were gonna work on that home invasion case today weren't we?" Jim muttered as he pulled on his jacket and gathered a handful of papers. "The file's right there if you want to read up on it for me. I'll pick up Chinese on the way home and you can fill me in over dinner."

"Where are you going?" Blair asked, a little hurt that he hadn't been invited along.

"Meeting with the new DA over the McNeil homicide."

"Right, the new 'let's keep the civilian out of the court room' DA," Blair supplied.

"Sorry, Chief." Jim smiled a little, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He had been looking forward to working with his partner today. The DA had tied him up two days in a row now and probably would continue to do so until the case went to court on Thursday.

"Hey, I hate to testify. No skin off my nose," Blair lied as he slipped into the vacant chair and located the file he wanted. No one seemed to recall that Blair had been the one to make the connection between McNeil and his murderer, the fact that had actually made the case.

Jim tapped Blair on the head with the papers in his hand as he made his way around the desk and headed for the elevator. "See ya, Chief."

Simon was impressed with his new detective. He had none of the attitude he had expected from such an over achiever. And none of the lone wolf quality either. Simon realized belatedly that he had been anticipating another young Ellison. As good as Ellison had been when he joined Major Crimes he had also been a royal pain in the ass. With time and guidance he had matured into the best detective on the team. Probably the best in the whole department. And since the arrival of Sandburg a little over three years ago his arrest record and solve rate had sky rocketed. Of course that also corresponded with Jim's newly awakened Sentinel abilities as well. Sometimes Simon wondered how much of the increase was merely the presence and quick thinking of Jim's shadow. Inwardly he grudgingly gave the kid a lot of the credit. Outwardly he would never admit it.

Simon was stunned as Brady spoke again, apparently reading his mind. "I understand you have an anthropologist working with your department."

"That's right," Simon answered as he studied the man carefully. "How did you hear about that?"

"I'm always a detective. I asked some questions when I got here this morning. After I heard about the legendary Jim Ellison someone mentioned that there was a PHD candidate that worked here as well."

"Yeah, well. He's sort of a consultant. An unpaid observer."

"That's incredible. When will I get to work with him?" Brady asked sincerely.

Simon blinked. He had never considered the possibility that anyone else would want to work with Sandburg. "Sorry, Brady. You won't. Sandburg, that's his name, Blair Sandburg, works with Detective Ellison."

"I see." Brady seemed disappointed. Always ready to try new things, he had been excited about what he considered to be a progressive approach to police work. After all, crimes were committed by people. Who better to have on the team than somebody who studied people for a living. He looked out into the bull pen. Ellison was gone, but in his place sat a smaller man with long curly hair and glasses. "That must be him," Brady said. "He's not exactly what I expected."

"How so?" Simon asked defensively, ready to read the riot act to the cowboy. If Brady didn't readily accept Sandburg as an equal there would be hell to pay. It might, in fact, cause serious disruption within the unit, and not just from Ellison. All of the Major Crimes detectives were protective of the kid. Even Simon himself. He might just put the man back on a plane to Texas himself.

Brady shrugged, still studying the young man through the window. "I thought he'd be a lot older," he managed at last. "He looks smart. You can see it in his eyes."

Simon nodded. He agreed that when you got past the hair and the earrings you were left with an impression of intelligence in the animated face.

"My guess is we're lucky to have him," Brady continued.

Simon didn't miss the WE in "we're lucky to have him". Brady already considered himself a part of the team. Simon nodded in approval. "Wait until you meet him and then tell me how you feel," he teased. The phone rang and Simon snagged it himself since he had sent Rhonda down to records to pull some files for him earlier. "Banks," he said into the receiver. "Damn. I'm on my way." Simon hung up the phone and turned to Brady as he put on his overcoat. "Sorry, Brady. I've got to run over to the Mayor's office for an emergency meeting. Make yourself at home. When my secretary gets back have her introduce you around."

Brady moved to the door and watched the tall man leave. He stood there a moment to take in the bustle of the bullpen. Phones rang, papers shuffled, people moved in all directions. Over in the corner was an oasis of stillness. The dejected looking figure read with his head down, oblivious to the sea of confusion that surrounded him. Brady didn't wait well, so he made a decision and went to work.

Sandburg grunted in frustration. There's a pattern here, I'm just not seeing it, he thought. He lost himself in the case file, taking each incident and mentally comparing it with the others. Nothing seemed to connect the elderly victims. Apparently they were chosen at random, at least that's how Robbery had proceeded with the case before passing it on to Major Crimes. The perp had become increasingly vicious in the attacks, leaving the last two victims hospitalized. Blair was sure that there was a common thread, and he was damn sure going to find it. He had asked Jim to request the case, sure that sooner or later someone was going to get killed. Blair had a soft spot for the elderly, and he took it personally that they were being abused. He was vaguely aware of a large presence at the desk.

"Thanks, Jim," he said absently as a hot cup of coffee was pressed  into his hand.

"Jay," a deep voice corrected.

Tearing his eyes from the file Blair glanced up at the man he had seen in Simon's office earlier. "Jay Brady." The man grinned as he stretched his hand toward the anthropologist.

"Blair Sandburg," Blair replied carefully, shaking the man's hand. Ironically, experience had taught him to be cautious when approached by policemen he didn't know in the department. The gamut ran from practical jokes at his expense, to 'you don't belong here' speeches, to worse. Not that Jim knew about it. Things like that only happened now when Jim was nowhere in sight. Word got around fast Ellison didn't take it well when people harassed his partner.

"I know. Pleased to meet you. Captain Banks told me about your work with the department. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm the new detective."

"Right, right. I heard you were coming. Welcome to Cascade. How do you like it so far?"

"I'll let you know as soon as it stops raining," Brady laughed.  "It's been non-stop since I got here yesterday."

Blair grinned. "We'll get a couple days of sunshine in May. Not in a row though, so don't get your hopes up," he teased. "You'll get used to it."

"Sure I will. Sunshine's over rated anyway. UV rays are dangerous."

"Oh good, an optimist. We could use another one of those around here. Sometimes I seem to be the only one."

Brady smiled again. "So as a fellow optimist, you wouldn't mind too much introducing me around, would you?" he asked hopefully. "Captain Banks was called away and didn't know when he would be back. He said to make myself at home, but he didn't really give me anything to do."

"I'd be glad to show you around," Blair answered with a puzzled smile. "Why me?"

Brady shrugged. "I don't know. Even with your head buried in that file, you just seem so...approachable."

Blair looked up at the now nearly empty bullpen then glanced at the clock. "Looks like everybody has gone. Lunch time."

"Yeah, they started clearing out a few minutes ago. Up until then this place was really rocking," Brady said looking around as well. "By the time I found the coffee room and got back everybody had disappeared. So," he nodded toward the file in Blair's hand. "What are you working on?"

Blair opened the file and laid it out on the desk. "Home invasions. All the victims have been elderly and bed ridden. None have been able to identify their attacker. It's sad really."

Brady came around the desk and read over Blair's shoulder. "How are they getting in? Knocking and then forcing their way in?" he asked.

"No. It appears to be one guy. He shows up in the middle of the night in a ski mask, no evidence that he breaks in. It's almost like he has a key. Always knows exactly where to go for the goods."

"Like he's been there before," Brady nodded.

"Yeah. I'm sure there is a connection somehow. Like a cleaning service or delivery person, but I haven't found anything yet," Blair noted.

"Whose this Lila Lipowski?" Brady asked pointing to a name in the file.

Blair pulled off his glasses. "She lives next door to the last victim, Herman Watson. He's still in a coma, and other than the original interview by the uniformed officers yesterday, she hasn't been interviewed yet."

"So let's go interview her."

"We can't do that. You're not even on the case," Blair protested.

"No, but you are," Brady countered.

"Yeah, but I'm not a cop."

"No, but I am," Brady reasoned turning a pretty good set of puppy dog eyes on the observer. "What do you say? This creep is out there right now planning to hurt another helpless little old person and here we sit with nothing to do."

Blair groaned. "I can already tell that you and I are going to get into a lot of trouble together," he said ruefully.

"Come on, I'll buy you lunch on the way back," Brady urged. "It's only an interview."

"Yeah. Ok. There's this health food deli down in that neighborhood. I don't suppose you'd want to eat there?" Blair asked, ready to be shot down.

"Why not? I'll try anything once. You'll have to help me pick something out, I don't know anything about health food." Brady grabbed the jacket off the coat rack, assuming it was Sandburg's, and thrust it into his hands.

Blair grinned and put it on. It was not lost on him how many times he and Jim went through the same ritual everyday. "Hey, my car's parked out in front of the building. Looks like we're gonna get wet," Blair said as they boarded the elevator.

"Nah, I'm parked in the garage. I drove up from Houston. I wasn't about to leave my baby behind." He flicked a set of keys to Blair. "You drive, Partner. You can give me the scenic tour as we go."

Brady's baby turned out to be a nearly new Ford F150, complete with roll bar and lights. Very reminiscent of Jim's former truck. Only this one was fire truck red and a 4x4 step side. Blair practically had to climb into the driver's seat. "Nice truck," he breathed in appreciation. He couldn't believe that Brady wanted him to drive it.

Brady knocked on the door. On the way over Blair had laid out the case for him, giving a thorough and concise briefing, making several good points which helped to organize his thoughts before the interview. In fact, Brady was very impressed with the passion and energy with which Blair attacked every aspect of the investigation. A petite, white haired woman answered the door.

"Mrs. Lipowski? How are you, Ma'am? I'm Detective Brady. This is my partner, Mr. Sandburg. May we have a moment of your time?"

Blair cut his eyes at the big detective in surprise as they were ushered into the tiny, cluttered living room. 'Partner', Blair thought. There's that word again. Early days of riding with Jim had taught Blair that the title partner was not taken lightly. Jim had stubbornly refused to use the term when referring to Blair for well over a year. Even now more often than not Jim introduced him as 'my associate' or 'a consultant to the department', rather than as 'my partner'.

Brady was pouring on the Southern charm and the sweet little ol' lady didn't stand a chance as she served them tea and cookies. Each answer she gave was given at length and with a great deal of thought. Brady was doing a nice job with the interview and made the woman feel comfortable at the same time. A role that Blair usually filled himself, but he was content to let Brady work. He paid attention all the same, he didn't want to miss anything.

"Was there anyone who came to see Mr. Watson on a regular basis?" Blair asked during a lull in the interview as Brady made some notes.

"No. No one I can think of. Only Meals on Wheels and his home health nurse," answered Mrs. Lipowski. "He didn't have any one to take care of him, you know."

"What about cleaning services or grocery delivery people?" Brady asked.

"No. I usually pick up things he needs when my daughter takes me to the store. So does the nice young woman down the hall. I don't know her name."

"Which apartment is she in?" Brady asked.

"On the other side of Mr. Watson. She's out of town right now, though. Has been for at least a week."

"You've been great, Ma'am. Thank you for all of your help." Brady gave the woman a gentle squeeze on the hand and looked over at Blair, who smiled and rose as well. She showed them to the door and patted Blair sweetly on the cheek.

"You don't talk much, do you, honey?" she asked.

"Hey, Brady," Blair asked quietly as they ate lunch, "I've noticed that you called me partner a couple of times."

"Yeah, so?" Brady said over the top of his spout and tofu pieta that he was wolfing down.  "It's just habit I guess. Is it a problem?"

"I just noticed, that's all," Blair answered. "Technically, I work with Detective Ellison. I didn't know if you knew that or not."

Brady scanned Blair's carefully blank face as he chewed and swallowed another large bite of the sandwich. "I don't want to step on Ellison's toes or anything. But I can dream, right?" he half-joked.

Blair smiled a little. "You'd want me for a partner? I'm not even a cop."

"I'd take you in a heartbeat. Does that bother you?"

"No. It's kind of nice. You accepted me right away. Thanks."

Brady returned the smile. "Hey, I'm the new guy. You're the one who accepted me."

"Cool," Blair nodded. "I guess I did."

They finished their lunch making small talk. Family, education, favorite sports teams. Blair found himself avoiding the subject of his real partner. Although Jim did slip into the conversation from time to time. He almost felt guilty for liking the new guy so much. Like he was somehow betraying Jim for tagging along with someone else for awhile. Someone who appreciated his contribution to the case. Someone who called him partner.

"Sandburg, you seen the new guy?" Simon asked as Blair seated himself at Jim's desk.

Blair smiled nervously. "Yeah, we had lunch," he said, conveniently leaving out the fact that they had gone on an interview together.

Simon laughed and shook his head. "I should have known you'd look out for anyone lost in the shuffle around here. Thanks, kid."

Blair shrugged uncomfortably, unaccustomed to compliments from the Captain. "He paid."

Simon's smile fell a little. "Should have known that too. What are you working on while Jim's tied up with the DA?"

"The home invasion stuff from Robbery."

"Ok, why don't you include Brady on that this afternoon. The guy's ready to go to work."

Blair looked up with absolutely innocent blue eyes. "That's doable, Simon."

"Where is he?"

"He went to sign up for the bowling league that starts tonight. He'll be back in a minute."

"Tell him I'm sorry to run out on him again. I'll see him first thing in the morning." Simon headed briefly to his office, but was gone again by the time Brady returned.

"Guess what?" Blair asked when Brady stepped back into Major Crimes. "Simon wants you to work on the home invasion case with me this afternoon."

Brady raised an eyebrow. "How'd you manage that?"

"When you're good, you're good," Blair grinned as a large hand ruffled his curls.

Blair cringed when he realized that Jim had beat him home. He slipped into the loft feeling like a cheating spouse. Jim was asleep on the couch with the remnants of the promised Chinese food on the coffee table.

He and Brady had made a lot of headway on the case. They had gone out again and talked to several people who had been attacked. Jay had even tried to convince him to go bowling with him, but Blair had insisted that he needed to go home.

Futilely trying not to wake up the Sentinel, Blair tiptoed over to the coffee table and began to quietly clear away the empty containers.

"Yours is in the fridge," Jim said sleepily opening one eye.

"Long day?" Blair asked as he took the empties to the trash. It wasn't like Jim to sack out so early. The meeting must have been grueling.

"You have no idea. I would have waited for you to eat, but I missed lunch. I tried to turn down my sense of smell, but damn that low mein smelled good."

Blair smiled and shook his head as he opened the fridge to find his own dinner. "That's one drawback to being a Sentinel, I guess."

"I never thought I'd hear you admit that there could be a drawback to being a Sentinel," Jim teased. "I looked for you at the station. You want to show me that file?"

"Not tonight, Jim. You're tired. Go to bed." Blair found a container of shrimp fried rice and spooned out a healthy serving onto a plate and popped it into the microwave.

"I feel bad dumping it on you. It's not your job, you know," Jim said coming off the couch stiffly.

"Jim, I want to do this. Besides, Simon let the new guy help me. We made some progress," Blair said.

Jim stretched as he reached the kitchen. "Brady, right? What's he like?"

"Actually, he reminds me a lot of you," Blair smiled. The microwave dinged and Blair removed his dinner.

"He didn't give you a hard time did he?" Jim asked, remembering his second meeting with the energetic grad student when he had thrown his weight around a little. Not especially a pleasant memory.

"Of course not, Jim. He's a nice guy. Even let me drive his truck. Nice rig," Blair said as he perched on a stool at the counter and dug into his meal. "We had lunch at that new age deli you won't go near."

"Chief, I don't want you riding with someone I don't know. You're not a cop. He could drag you into something dangerous," Jim admonished.

Blair nearly choked on a mouthful of food. "Jim, you don't want me riding with anybody. Not even Rafe or Brown, and especially not Megan. I'm lucky to get to ride with Simon from time to time. And let's face it, I'm a lot more likely to die riding with you. Referring of course to your driving."

Jim growled, "That's not funny, Blair. I try to protect you, even when you don't listen to me and stay in the truck."

"Jim, I was joking. I'm sorry. Calm down. It was just a couple of interviews, man. Nothing to worry about." Blair ate another bite, but didn't seem as hungry now.

"What did Simon think he was doing? He can't assign you to someone else. You don't even get paid, for Christ's sake. You're only at the department to help me with my senses." Jim began to pace.

Blair stood and stared in disbelief. "That's all you think I do?" he asked coolly.

Jim spun back around to face him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Whatever, Jim." Blair dumped the rest of his food into the trash and put the plate into the sink. "Even if that's all I did do, it would still be important. To you and to me," he said before he sulked off to his room and slammed the door.

"I know," Jim mumbled softly. "Believe me, I know." He looked at the trash and at Blair's door before wearily climbing the stairs to bed. He'd let the kid pout tonight, but he'd make it up to him tomorrow. He made a mental note to set Simon straight first thing in the morning. And Brady.

Jim grimaced when he arrived at work. He was early as usual, but Simon was already in his office with Brady. The man was starting to annoy Ellison, and they hadn't even been formally introduced yet. Jim thought back to the ugly scene with Blair this morning. It was even worse than the one last night. "I'll be tied up most of the day with the DA. You don't need to come to the station today." That's all Jim had said. Blair had seen right through him and accused him of trying to keep him out of the station so that he couldn't ride with Brady. Jim clenched his jaw as he remembered Blair's wounded pride. All he was saying was that Blair took enough chances just hanging around with him. Why did he insist on spending the rest of his spare time trying to be a cop? Thinking hard, he may have implied that Blair should stay away from Brady.

Simon spotted Jim and motioned for him to join them in his office. Jim unclenched his jaw and moved toward the open door. Taking a deep breath he remembered Blair's warning as he left. "Don't embarrass me, Jim. "

"Jim, I'd like you to meet Jay Brady. Jay, this is James Ellison," Simon said as Jim walked through the door.

"I feel like I know you already," Brady grinned as he offered his hand to Jim. "Blair told me a lot about you. I don't think he realized how much. You're lucky to have such a dedicated partner."

"He's not a cop," Jim said, looking at the hand, but not accepting it. "I want you to stay away from him," he stated and turned his back on the man as if dismissing him before hitting Banks with an icy glare. "Simon, you know better than to assign Sandburg to work with someone else. If it ever happens again, I'll send him away. For good."

Simon's mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't," he breathed roughly as his anger boiled to the surface.

"If it keeps him out of danger, I would and you know it."

"Brady, excuse us for a minute, would you?" Simon stifled a growl, still trying to be polite.

"Look, Ellison, I don't want to be the cause of any problems," Brady offered. "I think you've got a terrific partner. He's sharp as a tack. I admire his tenacity. The fact that he doesn't get paid for what he does is a crime in itself. But he is a grown man, and I don't think he needs you to make his decisions for him."

"Captain Banks asked you to leave." Jim turned the famous Ellison glare on the new detective.

Brady returned a glare of his own. "Captain," he said as he turned to leave.

Simon slammed the door behind Brady and turned on the angry Sentinel. "Would you mind telling me what the hell that was all about?" he demanded loudly.

"I don't want Sandburg working with him. I don't know anything about him and Blair doesn't have enough sense to stay out of the line of fire. I can't loose him, Simon. I need him for these damn senses, but more than that, he's my friend," Jim insisted stubbornly. He turned to the windows and sighed deeply. When he spoke again it was much lower and a lot more reasonable. "Simon, I know he wants to work this case. Is Brady going to look out for him? I don't know that. Do you? Can you promise me that he will?"

"Jim, it's a home invasion case. What could go wrong? If I thought that Blair would be in any danger I never would have suggested it. He's my friend, too. I think you sometimes underestimate him. You can't tell him he only gets to work the cases you decide."

"I think you're forgetting what a shit magnet Sandburg is," Jim declared. He studied the wall for a minute. "I'm sorry I lost it, Simon. I just worry when Blair is here by himself."

"He's never here by himself, Jim. Everyone in this unit accepts Blair as one of us. You're the one who likes to keep him segregated. I want you to apologize to Brady. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, Sir," Jim said sullenly, somewhat ashamed of his behavior. He exited the office feeling like a shit. Things had not exactly gone the way he had planned, and telling Brady off did nothing to make him feel better.

Brady sat at Rafe's desk and looked up defiantly when Jim headed towards him instead of to his own desk. 

"Brady, I'm not always such an ass," Jim said as he approached. "I don't know if you can understand this or not. I'm a little over protective when it comes to Sandburg."

Brady's glare faded as he met Jim's eyes. "Actually, I think I understand. If Blair was my partner, I'd fight for him, too."

Jim grinned hollowly. "I'm not worried about you taking him away from me, if that's what you think."

"Easy there, big fella. That didn't come out right. What I meant was I would try to protect him if he was my partner. I understand that he doesn't have a gun or police training," Brady explained, "but if Blair wants to ride with me when you're not around I'm going to let him. I'll take all the time with him I can get. And I'll do everything in my power to keep him out of harm's way. I promise you that, but not for your sake. For his."

"Fair enough," Jim said and offered his hand grudgingly to the man. To his chagrin, the man took it.

Blair peeked into the bullpen before he entered. No sign of Jim, but Brady sat with Megan at her desk. It didn't look like they were getting much work done. Jim had laid down the law this morning. He told Blair in no uncertain terms to stay away from Brady. Making his way to Jim's desk, Blair took off his jacket and dropped his backpack. He waved a greeting to Rafe and nodded to Brady and Megan with a grin.

Brady whispered something into Megan's ear that set off girlish giggles and her cheeks on fire. He gathered his things and sauntered over to Blair. "Hey there, little buddy. You ready to get to work. We need to knock out the rest of those interviews."

"Yeah, ok. Let me check my E-mail first. I put out some feelers last night about the meals on wheels in the area," Blair said as he logged in.

"Right. I checked on our victims. Five out of eight were recipients of their services."

"But not all of them," Blair said thoughtfully. "What about the visiting nurse thing?"

"Well, all of them had some type of home health service, but from two different agencies. I'm cross checking, but it looks like at least six different nurses took care of our victims."

"Maybe someone has access to their records or something. I'd like to check employees of both services." Blair clicked off the computer. "Nothing here. Let's go."

"Listen, Blair," Brady began a little uncertainly, "I know that Ellison doesn't want you to work this case with me."

"Oh, God. What did he do?"

Brady grinned a little sheepishly. "Don't worry about it. I understand where he's coming from. I had a younger partner once myself."

"Jay, I make my own decisions. Simon doesn't mind if I ride with you, so that's what I'm gonna do."

Brady nodded and raised a handful of papers.  "I gotta drop these forms off at personnel on the way," he said as he lead the way out of the bullpen toward the stairs. "Come on, I'll tell you about the bowling league."

"I'd rather hear about your efforts in the foreign exchange program."

"Sandburg, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"So you're telling me that you don't have any interest in Megan," Blair badgered as they popped out of the stairwell at Human Resources.

"I'm not telling you anything," Brady insisted. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh, there's kissing involved."

"Not yet there's not. But you'll be the first one not to know if there is."

Brady stopped in personnel long enough to drop off the forms and chat up the clerks for a few minutes. Blair rolled his eyes and went to wait in the hall. Now he knew how Jim felt when he pulled that stunt. Brady said his good-byes and grinned at Blair as he came out of the office. Before Blair could offer his thoughtfully prepared wise ass remark, Brady was waving at somebody down the hall.

"Hey, Brady. Great game last night, you were hell on wheels," Homicide Detective Vance Chavez said as he cheerfully pounded Jay on the chest.

As soon as Blair saw Chavez coming he shifted behind Brady to let him pass. He had already had a couple of unpleasant run ins with Chavez, but had managed to keep them off Jim's radar. It occurred to Blair that this particular defensive move was one he used all the time when he was with Jim. Slide to the wall side and slightly behind the larger man. Don't make eye contact and wait quietly until it was time to move down the hall. 

Not that Blair wouldn't love to give Chavez a piece of his mind, he'd like nothing better than to take the jerk down a notch or two. But Blair knew any confrontation with Chavez would inevitably draw in Jim, no matter how hard Blair tried to avoid it. He also knew it was sometimes difficult for Jim having him as a partner. A certain percentage of the department resented having a civilian around. Especially a long haired, hippy-type. Chavez was the current leader of the Hassle Sandburg Brigade. Maybe if Brady hung out with Chavez long enough, Blair wouldn't have to go against Jim's wishes. That thought made Blair wince. He liked Brady, he wouldn't want him as an enemy.

"Tell you what, Vance. Buy me a pizza and some beer and I'll teach you everything I know about bowling," Jay laughed and winked, pointing a finger at the other man.

"You're on." Chavez smiled and started to move away when he caught sight of Brady's shadow. "Oh, man. Don't tell me they stuck you with Ellison's bitch," he moaned.

Before Blair could form thoughts into words, a blur of motion and brown leather flew by him. Brady slammed Chavez hard into the wall and braced his forearm across the man's neck. Raw fury poured off the cowboy in waves. "You got a problem with my partner, Chavez?" he growled between clenched teeth.

"Jay! Let him go, man. It's not worth the trouble," Blair pleaded urgently and pulled against the stone pillar of anger that pinned the other man to the wall. Chavez's face was getting redder by the second, and he was starting to gasp for air. "Ease up, Jay. Please."

Brady shifted his arm to rest a beefy hand on the offending man's chest for a second before dropping it to his side. He remained, however, deep in Chavez's personal space; literally in the man's face. Obviously at a loss, the Homicide detective searched the bigger man's face for evidence of a joke or misunderstanding. What he found was pure unadulterated pissed off. Ellison style. A crowd was starting to form, but no one interfered.

Blair pulled again at his angry benefactor, and Brady eased back marginally. "Forget it, man. I get that all the time. Don't worry about it," Blair soothed.

Brady turned a stunned face to the anthropologist, clearly appalled. "Why?" he asked. Blair shrugged and pulled again. This time Jay followed obediently.

Chavez swallowed and took an involuntary step in the opposite direction. "You act just like Ellison when it comes to that kid," he spat out. "Must be some sweet piece."

Blair kept a hand on Brady's arm and felt a flinch as Jay started and stopped a swing all in the same fraction of a second. When Brady spoke his voice was low and calm, but every one clearly heard it. Blair could feel the tremors as the big man shook with anger. "Did it ever occur to you what an asset Sandburg is? Do you even begin to realize how smart he is? How he can gather information, pick out details, sort and organize..." Brady shook his head and sighed heavily as he looked thoughtfully at a dumbstruck Sandburg. He returned his gaze to an unrepentant Chavez. "If I ever hear a whisper of you giving my partner any grief I'll tear you apart. You'll wish Ellison was your problem."

Brady turned to level his glare at the surrounding crowd. "That goes for everybody," he said menacingly. The crowd began to disperse with whispers and wild speculation.

"Well that certainly started up the rumor mill. Thanks.  Thanks a lot, Jay," Blair complained sarcastically.

Brady mock punched Sandburg on the chin just hard enough to turn his head slightly. His anger disappeared as fast as the crowd. "Anytime, partner. Anytime," he drawled. He threw an arm around Blair's shoulders and steered the younger man toward the elevators. "Come on, my sweet little piece. Let Daddy buy you some lunch," he said loudly.

Blair turned incredulous blue eyes on him. "You're not my real Daddy," he managed at last with a laugh.

Jim entered the bull pen with a scowl on his face. He spotted Blair's backpack under his desk, but the anthropologist was conspicuously absent, and the coat rack was empty. The McNeil trial would begin in the morning, and Jim was eager to get the whole thing out of the way so that things could get back to normal. He found the file for the home invasion case on his desk, so he opened it and began to read. Thankfully he had been excused from the persistent DA for the remainder of the afternoon. He had hoped to spend it with his partner, but Blair seemed to be out of pocket.

Simon stormed through the room and slammed his office door behind him. The phone was ringing and he snatched it off the hook and barked loudly into it. Jim eased his hearing down a little. He already had a slight headache and had no inclination to know what had his boss so ticked off. As long as it didn't involve him. Or Sandburg.

Half an hour later Brady walked in, but Blair was no where in sight. Jim sighed in relief. Although he hadn't asked, and no one had volunteered any information, Jim had assumed that his missing roommate was with Brady. Come to think of it, there had been an eerie silence permeating the bullpen ever since Jim arrived. It was reminiscent of the pre-Sandburg days when Jim had been avoided like the plague by most of his co-workers. It was almost like everyone was walking on egg shells. Everyone but Simon, who was in an extremely pissy mood.

Simon moved to his door and roared, "Brady! My office. Now!"

Brady winked at Megan and dropped his hat onto her head as he passed her. He entered the lion's den at a casual pace, seemingly unconcerned that he was about to get reamed. Jim wondered what the detective could have possibly done to get the Captain so bent out of shape on only his second day on the job. Just to be safe, Jim lowered his hearing a tad more. It was gonna get loud any second now.

"Sir?" Brady asked stopping inside the door.

"Shut it," Banks bellowed.

The detective did as he was told and waited patiently for his Captain to get to it.

"Something you want to tell me?" Banks asked with a malicious tone.

"Yes sir. Herman Watson died twenty minutes ago."

"Who?" Banks did a double take. That was not the information he was looking for.

"Mr. Watson, the last victim of the home invasion case. Now it's murder, Sir."

As the wind left his sails, Simon settled into his chair. "Poor old guy. Why was he even attacked if he was bedridden? I mean, the perp could have taken whatever he wanted and just left."

"There are some just plain mean people in this world, Sir," Brady shrugged.

"What are you going to do now?"

"I left Sandburg at the hospital. He's checking references on the hospital based home health agency. We'll check out the other place tomorrow. I wanted to let you know about Watson, and drop off some evidence, but Blair wasn't ready to come back to the station just yet. I'll pick him up on the way back to Watson's apartment. We're gonna give it another quick look before we come back." Brady nodded and reached for the door.

"Not so fast. Nice evasive action, though." Simon was calmer now, but still not happy with his new recruit.

"Sir?" Brady asked innocently.

"You want to tell me what happened this morning? I've got a dozen people who saw you throw Vance Chavez up against a wall. Some said if it wasn't for Sandburg you might have killed the guy."

"What did Chavez say?"

Banks began to lose patience and rose to his feet. "He says it was a misunderstanding. He denied being bullied and refused to press charges. Let's just get this clear now. I don't let my people go around beating up other cops."

"What about Sandburg?" Brady asked defensively.

"What about him?"

"I promised I wouldn't say anything, Captain, but since you asked, he admitted at lunch to a certain amount of hazing. I think there's more to it than he let on. Frankly, I can't believe Ellison puts up with it if he's as protective as he claims to be."

"So that's what's up with Chavez. He's got it in for the kid." Banks frowned and glanced out to see Jim calmly sitting at his desk. Since he hadn't come flying through the door at the mention of someone harassing his partner, Simon had to assume that he hadn't been listening to the conversation. Not that he would. But he could.

"Well, it's not going happen when I'm around," Brady did open the door then and slipped through it. Simon watched and let him go. He didn't envy Chavez. He'd only gone through part one of Blair's protective circle of friends. If Ellison caught wind of it, part two was going to hurt.

"Hey, Jim, where's Hairboy?" Brown asked as he settled on the edge of Ellison's desk.

Jim looked up with a small frown. "I'm not sure. And it's starting to worry me."

"At least now you know Brady is looking out for him."

The small frown grew into a serious one. "Why? What happened?"

"Oh, man, where have you been? It's all over the station. Simon already had a piece of Brady's ass over it," Brown supplied excitedly.

Jim was on his feet and moving fast, Brown followed at a distance. Ellison opened the door to Simon's office without knocking. "What did Brady do to Sandburg?" he snapped.

Simon shooed Brown away and closed the door behind the seething detective. "Blair's fine. Someone made an offhand remark about him and Brady went off on the poor dumb bastard."

"That's it?" Jim asked sitting awkwardly in a chair.

"That's it. I tried to get Brady's side, but he wasn't talking. All I've heard is hearsay and since Blair hasn't come back from the hospital yet..."

"Hospital?" Jim said as he jumped to his feet.

"Whoa, Jim, settle down. The old man died, the last victim of the home invasions. Sandburg is at the hospital checking some things out. Brady's going to get him now. They'll be back in a little while."

"Blair was right. He said sooner or later someone was going to get killed. And where have I been? Sitting around in the DA's office while Sandburg does all the leg work."

"Jim, this is not your fault. I could have given the case to someone else while you were tied up with the DA."

Ellison frowned again. "Technically, you did," he said. "And you were right to do so. I really am sorry for the way I acted, Simon."

"It's ok. But maybe it's time to pull Sandburg off of the case, until you get done with the McNeil trial. I'll put Megan on it with Brady."

"I don't know if Blair would ever forgive me if you do that, Captain. He's put in a lot of work on this one."

"We'll wait and see what happens. He does good work, Jim."

Jim nodded and pursed his lips a moment in thought.  "Now... who said what about my partner?" 

"Don't go off the deep end here," Simon warned.

"I promise not to do anything. Apparently Brady already took care of it, but I would like to know. And I don't think Sandburg will tell me everything."

Simon sighed and sat back down. "This is what I've managed to get from at least two people who saw it go down. Chavez called Blair 'Ellison's bitch'. Brady came unglued and tried to choke the life out of him right outside Human Resources. Then Brady threatened Chavez and everyone else within ear shot that if he heard about anyone messing with the kid that he would 'tear them apart'."

Jim frowned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, and Chavez implied that Blair was putting out to get you and Brady both to be so protective of him. 'Sweet piece' was the exact phrase, if I can believe my sources."

Jim groaned in disgust. "That's not what I meant, but thanks for the mental picture. I'm just wondering how Brady got so attached to Sandburg so fast. I mean, they worked together for a few hours yesterday and already he's willing to take on the whole police department to defend Blair? Something doesn't add up."

"You've got to admit Sandburg grows on you. Even I miss him when he's not around. And that doesn't leave this office," Simon advised sternly.

"Yeah, but no one else would have gone up against Chavez over something like that. No one but me anyway."

"I think you'd be surprised, Jim. I really do." Simon reached for a cigar with a smile.

Blair heard the first scream as he opened the truck door when they reached Watson's apartment building. He picked up the phone and started to dial for backup. Brady was already half way up the walk when he spun around and shouted, "You comin'?"

"You don't want me to wait in the truck?" Blair asked.

"Of course not. Let's roll."

Without another thought Blair stuffed the phone back into his pocket and followed Brady into the building. The screams bounced off the walls in the stairwell, coming from somewhere on the second floor. Brady launched himself up the stairs two at a time. Blair followed, amazed that the large man could move so fast. As his foot struck the top step a shot gun blast ripped the air around him, sending a spray of plaster and wood flying. Strong hands gripped his shoulders and yanked him up the last step and into the hollow of a door frame across the hall. Brady covered Blair's body with his own, pressing the smaller man against the door while he returned fire, wounding the perp and sending him to his knees.

As Brady moved away, Blair slid down the door to sit on the floor. When he remembered to breath he located the phone and hit speed dial to dispatch. "This is Blair Sandburg. We need backup and an ambulance to 5342 Dover Street. That's right."

Blair hung up the phone and watched as Jay kicked away the shot gun, cuffed the shooter and briefly examined the man's thigh where he had shot him. All the while Brady muttered vague assurances to the trembling woman standing in the doorway of her apartment. He glanced grim faced at Blair and made his way back to him.

"How bad is it?" he asked as he tugged gently at Blair's denim jacket to remove it.

Blair's eyes grew wide. "How bad is what?" he asked.

"You're hit. I think it's just a flesh wound. There's not much blood." Brady dug out the largest pocket knife Blair had ever seen and began to cut away Blair's sleeve at the shoulder.

"I'm hit?" Blair asked dumbly to clarify the situation. Realizing that maybe his shoulder did sting a little.

Jay chuckled deeply. "It's not bad. It's just some splintered wood from the wall. Hold still and I'll dig it out."

"Ow!" Blair exclaimed. "No offense, Jay, but I don't want you digging around in my shoulder with that Samurai sword you've got there."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's get an ambulance down here and get you to the hospital."

"I already called for backup and an ambulance. For that guy. I don't need to go to the hospital," Blair argued.

"Ok, wise guy. You don't want me to do it and you don't want to go to the hospital. Just how are you planning on getting the wood out of your back, Ricky?" Brady fumed as he continued to fuss with the wound.

"Ricky?" Blair asked over the din of the arriving black and white and the screams of the enraged suspect lying face down in the hall.

Brady's face paled and he dropped the knife, luckily missing his own foot by an inch. He blinked a couple of times before turning and sitting next to Blair on the floor. "I just called you Ricky, didn't I?"

Before Blair could answer, two uniformed officers rushed up the stairs with their weapons drawn. Brady distractedly flashed his badge and thumbed down the hall to the wounded apartment resident. The crying woman came out in the hall and began to explain what had happened to the officers. Blair listened to her absently, but kept his eyes on the still man beside him. All at once Brady rose to his feet and gathered Sandburg and his knife up with him.

"My partner is injured," he told the officers. "I'm going to see to him, but I'll be right back." One of the cops nodded and turned back to the woman.

As they descended the stairs Blair had to wondered if he or Brady was shaking more. Jay stopped one of the EMTs on the way up and had him quickly check out Blair's shoulder. When the paramedic confirmed that it didn't look too bad, Brady ushered Blair to the truck. He opened the passenger door and took off his jacket, placing it around Blair's shoulders to ward off the slight drizzle.

"Jay, I don't want to mess up your seat," Blair protested as he noted the increase in blood.

"It'll wash, Blair," Brady said in exasperation. "Get in."

"Who's Ricky?" Blair asked as Brady helped him climb up into the truck.

Brady looked away as a tear slid down his cheek. "He was my partner in Houston. Died in the line of duty six months ago. I didn't realize until just now how much you remind me of him."

"I'm sorry."

"He was the best." Jay jerked a hand roughly across his cheek to remove any evidence of the tear track. "Damn. I thought I was past all this. Let's get you home."

"Hey, Ellison," Officer Baird called out as Jim passed him in the hall. "How'd you get back here so fast?"

"What do you mean? I've been back from the DA's office for a couple of hours now."

"Oh, I thought...Never mind. My mistake."

"What's going on, Baird?" Ellison moved on the retreating man.

"Well, I was down in dispatch a few minutes ago and Sandburg called in for backup and an ambulance. I just figured he was with you. Or is he really that new guy's partner now? Man, I didn't believe it when I heard that one."

Jim turned and sprinted down the hall to the dispatcher's office, never looking back.

Blair stood in the bathroom looking over his shoulder into the mirror. He had his shirt off, his glasses on, and his hair pulled up in a pony tail, out of the way. Clumsily he used his left hand to pick out the wooden shrapnel. Unfortunately, there were a couple of small pieces that he couldn't quite reach. He made a mental note to thoroughly clean the bathroom and dispose of the bloody shirt and jacket before Jim got home as he struggled to get the next piece. No way in hell Jim was gonna find out about this. He didn't even want to think about how pissed off Jim was going to be when he found out that he had been riding with Brady again. Suddenly there were hands on his back, probing the wounds, causing Blair to jump a foot. He had been so intent on his task he hadn't heard his roommate come in.

"Hi, Jim," he said quietly.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Jim rumbled as he snatched the tweezers from Blair's hand to finish removing the splinters. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. Brady had done the unforgivable. Not only had he put Blair's life in danger, but he had left him to tend to his own wounds. Although he trembled slightly under Jim's hand, Blair didn't pull away as Jim began to dig out the remaining debris.

Letting out a sigh, Jim listened to Blair's heartbeat to reassure himself that his Guide was alive and well. The smell of blood renewed the fear that had gripped him as he raced to the crime scene. A domestic dispute of all things. Brady and Blair had stumbled upon it while going to search an old man's apartment. The paramedics had been loading a patient onto an ambulance when Jim pulled up. He had dashed to the stretcher, but knew immediately it wasn't Sandburg. Panic set in when someone told him that Blair had been shot, but hadn't gone to the hospital. Brady had taken him home; taken him home and left him there alone, apparently.

Blair kept casting furtive glances at him in the mirror but Jim retained a stone face. Neither said a word. Suddenly Jim's hands began to shake as he dropped a small round object into the sink. It echoed with a dull metallic sound as it hit the drain. A shotgun pellet. He pulled Blair's back to his chest and put his arms around the shorter man's shoulders in an awkward hug, heedless of the blood soaking into his shirt as he closed his eyes tightly.

"No more, Chief," he whispered hoarsely. "Promise me. No more."

"I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Please. I can't lose you because someone else was careless. Promise me." Jim buried his head into Blair's hair.

"Whatever you want me to do. I promise," Blair soothed as he patted his friend's arms which held him rigidly.  "I promise, Jim. No more."

"Ellison," Jim said as he opened his phone. He paced back and forth behind Blair who sat at the table where Jim had dressed his wounds, now eating the left over rice that he hadn't got to the night before.

"Jim, is Blair ok?"

"Yeah, Simon. He's fine. After all, it was only a home invasion case. What could go wrong?" Jim said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I should have listened to you. From now on I'll pay more attention. It was a judgment call, and I blew it."

"No, Simon, I'm sorry. This just scared the hell out of me." Jim pulled Blair into a head lock and affectionately choked him.

"I'm eating here, man," Blair protested.

Jim released him and continued to pace. "I am going to have another talk with Brady, though."

"I wish you wouldn't do that Jim," Blair sighed and grabbed for the phone. Jim gave him a dirty look and moved farther away.

"I don't think you'll get the chance, Jim," Simon said. "He turned in his resignation ten minutes ago. Said he was going to go back to where the sun shines every once in a while."

"Good riddance."

"What?" Blair asked.

"Tell Sandburg to take it easy. And Jim? There was another home invasion. This time the resident was beaten to death. Megan can get Blair's notes tomorrow. I'm assigning her the case."

"Damn," Jim swore softly. "Yeah, I'll tell him. Goodnight, Simon."

"Tell me what?" Blair asked anxiously as Jim shut off the phone and stuck it back in his pocket.

"There was another attack. This time it was fatal. Simon wants you to share your notes with Megan tomorrow," Jim said reluctantly.

"What about Jay?"

"He quit about ten minutes ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess he heard that I'm going to kill him," Jim joked. "For some reason he thinks he'll be safe in Texas."

"He just left without saying good-bye?" Blair asked noting the extremely displeased look that his partner shot him. "I'm sorry, Jim. I like the guy."

"I just dug a shotgun pellet out of your back. You are lucky that you're not laid up in a hospital bed right now. Or...worse," he said, not able to say the actual words. "He left you alone and wounded. How can you still like the guy?"

"We walked into the middle of something. It wasn't his fault, Jim. And he tried his best to protect me. He even shielded me with his own body," Blair argued. "Then he wanted to dig the wood out with this huge knife. I wouldn't let him near me with it. And I refused to go to the hospital. You know I hate the hospital, Jim."

"Stop defending him. You said 'no more'," Jim accused.

"I said I wouldn't ride with him anymore. And I won't. I won't ride with anyone but you if that's what you want. But I never said I wouldn't try to make you understand that you can't protect me twenty-four hours a day. No one can do that. You've got to learn to trust me. If you don't, then this thing between will never work out. This partnership."

"All right," Jim conceded. "What happened then?"

"He got mad and started ragging on me the way you do when I don't see things your way. Then he calls me Ricky..."

"Who's Ricky?"

"That was his partner. He got killed six months ago. He said I remind him of his dead partner."

Jim bounced his balled up fist on the table top. "You're not making me feel any better about this guy, Chief."

"Anyway, he needed to get back to the crime scene, so I talked him into leaving me. He checked the wound before he left, and he called me before you got here. Twice. He's not a bad cop, but he is a little confused right now. I don't want him blaming himself for what happened to me. Jim, I need to go find him."

"No. Oh, no you don't. You're going to bed and you're going to stay there. If I catch you outside this loft before morning, you'll be glad to go to the hospital. Do you understand?"

"But..."

"I'll go."

"Oh there's a plan," Blair snorted.

"I'll go get him. I'll bring him here to you so you can have one last laugh and get him the hell out of your system. Deal?"

"Will he be breathing when you bring him over?"

"Possibly."

"Jim..."

"Ok, breathing. I'm not promising any more than that."

Brady hadn't checked out of his hotel yet, so Jim knew that he still had time to find him. He drove around in the general vicinity of the hotel until he spotted the shiny red truck that he had heard so much about. It was parked on the street between a dress shop and a gym. Jim took a chance and headed into the gym. There he was, pounding the shit out of a punching bag. The tell tale sweat that soaked his shirt spoke of a long and frantic workout.

"What do you want, Ellison?" Brady boomed across the room, turning every head in the joint.

"Blair wants to see you," Jim said evenly, closing in on his adversary.

"I can't," Brady muttered and turned back to the bag with a hard combination of jabs.

"You owe him that. At least say good-bye." Jim stepped onto the mat and stood in front of the abused bag.

The look of pure pain on the other man's face stunned Ellison, left him with a ragged, hollow feeling. He knew that look. If he had lost Sandburg today, he himself would be wearing that look tonight. That's the way it was with partners.

"I lost him again, today. God damn it! I lost him again." The fury that built had no release accept the punching bag that hung on the other side of Ellison. He couldn't reach it, so he hit the next best thing and Jim went down hard.

Jim shook his head to clear it and rubbed his jaw. Stunned, he looked up into Brady's grinning face. Grinning?

"Damn that felt good," Brady exclaimed. He reached a hand down to help Jim up, which was promptly slapped away.

"Yeah? You want to try again?" Jim asked angrily as he got to his feet.

"Bare knuckle in the ring?" Brady offered.

"Sounds good," Jim said pulling off his shirt and throwing it to the ground.

"Hey, guys, I don't want any trouble here," a short, muscle bound man said as the men crawled under the ropes into the small boxing ring. "I'm calling the police."

"We are the police," Brady and Ellison shouted in unison as they began to circle each other menacingly.

Ellison turned rapidly on his foe and hit him with a strong hook to the chin. Brady fell back, but didn't hit the ground. At least the grin was gone. The next ten minutes passed in a blur of movement and pain. Each man taking and receiving blows that would have leveled lesser men. Blow after blow landed, each dodging as many as they received. Hostility and anger ran it's course until at last they ended up in a heap in the middle of the ring, panting frantically.

"Give up?" Brady asked, his chest heaving painfully. He thoughtfully spit the blood in his mouth away from Jim, onto the mat.

"Hell no," Ellison answered stubbornly, although he couldn't quite get back up. He rubbed a hand across his face and realized that he was bleeding as well from somewhere but he couldn't tell where exactly. Everything hurt.

Brady chuckled for a minute, as the absurdity of the situation sunk in. Slowly it turned into a sob as his overwhelming loss resurfaced. As he lay on the floor watching the other man disintegrate next to him, Jim felt his anger melt away. Where would he be six months after Blair's death? In another city trying to start fresh? Or eating his own gun? Odds leaned heavily on the gun. He reached out and clumsily patted Jay on the chest.

"Easy there," he soothed, his voice breaking just the tiniest bit. "I'm sorry about your partner. Ricky?"

"You know," Brady choked out, "when I was with your partner I was happy for the first time in months. It was like God had given me back something that I had lost. I didn't even realize that I was putting my feelings for Ricky on him. Projecting? Is that what they call it?"

"Something like that," Jim agreed softly.

Sitting up, Jay wiped his bloody, snotty face on his wet T-shirt which he then pulled off and waded into a ball. He held it loosely in his swollen hand as he continued, "It's not that they look alike or anything. Ricky was a big ol' tow headed farm boy, corn fed. Together we could scare the shit out of the devil himself if we had a mind to. He had the same youthful enthusiasm as Blair though. The same damn, naïve, 'we can make a difference' attitude. He was as unmarked by the ugly side of police work. Unjaded. Careless. Then he went and got himself dead. No second chances. No do overs. Just dead."

"What happened?" Jim asked, honestly interested.

"We went to bust this low life who killed his parole officer. I knew Ricky's head was on some girl he had just started seeing and not on the case, so I had him wait out front with some excuse about catching any one that got by me. He agreed easy enough, he never argued with me. Unfortunately, the guy wasn't in the building, but he came home and caught Ricky out front. I heard the shots, but he was dead by the time I got back to him."

"I came here to get away from that memory. I guess I didn't run far enough," Jay said miserably. "He should have been with me. He'd be alive now if he had been and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Jim tried to sit up and shook his head. Stay in the truck. How many times had he said that to his partner. "You couldn't have known," he said.

"That's why I had Blair with me today. I thought he'd be safer. I guess that wasn't the right answer either. I'm sorry, Jim. I hope you never have to hold your dead partner in your arms. I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

Jim blinked back tears himself with the haunting vision of Blair laying on the ground, wet and unbreathing. He had witnessed Blair's death, but he had been lucky. Blair had come back to him. "There's been another home invasion," he said to change the subject.

"I know."

"Blair needs you to help him solve it while I'm stuck in court."

"You trust me with him?" Brady asked.

"No. But I trust him."

"Detective Ellison?" the uniformed office asked as he slid under the ropes.

"Hey there, Smitty," Jim answered from the floor, wiping his eyes duplicitously with the back of his hand.

"We got a call from the owner. Said there was a disturbance. You want me to take this guy in?"

"This is Detective Brady," Jim informed the officer. "We were just..."

"Working out?" Brady supplied hopefully.

"Yeah, uh, working out."

Ellison sat in the courtroom, bruised up one side and down the other. It only gave him slight comfort to know that Brady looked as bad as he did. Blair had been pissed when the two of them dragged their sorry, sore asses back to the loft. They got an earful from him. Both of them. Blair had flitted back and forth between them, tending to their wounds, lecturing about alpha males and stupid cops. After they had told him their plan to have Brady stay on long enough to finish the case, he calmed down. Ground rules were laid and promises made.

But that had only been the beginning. Then they had to go see Simon to beg for Brady's resignation to be postponed. At least until the case was over. Jim felt like a naughty school boy who got into a fight on the playground, as Captain Banks had threatened, yelled, and yelled some more.

The pivotal moment in his and Brady's relationship came when Brady had glanced at him with a shit eating grin just as Simon turned at the end of his little pacing circuit. It had almost been Jim's undoing and took every ounce of self restraint not to bust out laughing right in front of Simon. Suddenly he saw something of his partner in the big man. He understood why Blair liked him so much, even in his sorrow, he found a way to smile. He knew right then that with the right kind of help that Brady would be ok. After as good an ass chewing as Jim had ever received during his army days, Banks relented and gave Brady his badge back.

Now Jim was trying to live with that decision. Even though it had been his idea, the thought of Blair riding with someone else still unnerved him. But Blair had put so much of himself into the case, it wasn't fair to take it away from him. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. In less than an hour Blair would be arriving at the station. He would hang up his jacket and kick his backpack under the desk. Then, at some point, he and Brady would get up and head out to some unknown destination together as they worked on the case. Just like partners while Jim sat helplessly in the courtroom.

He let every bit of his discomfort and frustration bubble to the surface as he glowered at the back of the defendant's head. As if by magic the scumbucket turned and caught the killer look aimed at him. The man's eyes bugged out and he swallowed convulsively as he turned back to the judge. At least if he had to be here instead of where he belonged, he wasn't going to suffer alone, Jim reasoned, smiling ferally as the little man squirmed under his gaze.

"I've got it," Blair said suddenly as he studied a picture in the file in his hand. Brady looked up from the computer screen. "All of the victims had been visited at one time or another by the same home health aide. See, he worked at the hospital based business at first, but then he got fired because someone complained about him. Then he went to work for the private business. He visited the last four victims while he worked there."

"But none of the names of the employees matched," Brady said. "We already checked that."

"No, but this is the same guy. Alfred M. Taylor, and Marc Tyler. Look at the pictures."
Blair put the personnel file in his hand on the desk and rummaged through the other stack before flipping one open and laying it next to it.

Brady studied the pictures carefully. "It could be."

"It is," Blair stated with certainty. "Even the address is the same."

"Lets go pick him up," Jim said with a huge grin from the door.

"Hey, man," Blair said, happy as always to see his partner. "What happened to court?"

"It was the strangest thing. The guy just jumps up in the middle of the trial and starts confessing, in front of the judge and everything. He changed his plea to guilty and it was all over."

Marc Tyler sat down his beer and pulled his considerable frame off the couch to wander over to the door to see who was banging on it. He had ordered a pizza half an hour ago. Rubbing a hand over his bald head, he pushed his glasses up on his nose to look through the peep hole in the door. A long haired punk stood with his hands on his hips looking angrily at the door. He obviously didn't have any pizza on him.

"What do you want?" Marc grunted without opening the door.

"Open the door, asshole," the punk answered back.

Marc threw the door open. "You little shit, I'll kick your..." suddenly the door frame filled with two very big, very unhappy, black and blue police detectives. He stepped back in self preservation and they followed him into the room.

"Marc Tyler?" one of them asked.

"Or is it Alfred Taylor?" finished the other one.

The much smaller man stepped in between them with a smile. "Have a seat. We have a few questions. Oh, and a warrant to search your apartment," he said.

"Too bad we're losing Brady," Simon sighed as he watched the interrogation from the observation room with Sandburg. "They make quite a team."

"Yeah," Blair agreed. "They are intimidating. Bad cop and really bad cop." He pretended to shudder, as he watched the perp spill everything about the robberies and murders.

"Do you think you could talk him into staying?" Banks asked hopefully.

"I tried, Simon. He only came here because he was running away from something. He'll be better off in the long run if he goes back to face his demons."

Simon nodded knowingly "You're coming to the going away party for him tonight, right?"

"Yeah, but I've got to go back to the university for office hours for a little while."

"That's ok, Jim said that he and Brady had something they had to take care of this afternoon at the station."

Blair grimaced, "I don't like the sound of that," he said as he continued to watch his partners in action.

Chavez walked down the hall absently as he read through a file folder. Abruptly he stopped as he ran into a solid object carelessly left in the middle of the corridor. When he looked up into the impressively bruised face he grimaced. "I heard you quit," he said.

"I did. But I want to talk to you about Sandburg before I leave," Brady drawled.

"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it from Texas?" Chavez snorted.

"I took on Ellison, what makes you think I won't kick your butt before I leave?"

Chavez scoffed and turned on his heel only to bump into a second large chest.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jim said. "Look, I want you to see my handiwork over here." He pointed out the now grinning multicolored face behind Chavez. "Between the two of us, I don't think you'd fair very well."

"Is that a threat, Ellison? Cause if it is you need to remember that you can't watch the kid twenty-four seven. I'd hate for something to happen to him while you're not around."

"Blair has a lot of people to watch his back. I think you'd do well to remember that," Jim said.

"Nobody cares anything about that freak, except for you two."

"You're wrong, Chavez," Simon said as he rounded the corner with Rafe and Brown.

"Dead wrong," Taggert agreed as he and Megan joined the group.

"So while Brady here won't be a threat to you," Jim lectured, "the rest of us are gonna keep a closer eye on you and anyone else who gives Sandburg a hard time."

"I don't get it." Chavez complained. "Why do you care so much?" he asked Ellison.

"Because," Jim said with a fond smile, "He's my partner."                                                                          

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.