By JudyL

Okay, I’ve been doing Sentinel research… yes, it is a chore watching all of the episodes, back to back to back… but it’s got to be done. Anyway, after the pilot I got to thinking, why did they decide so quickly to have Blair ride along as an observer? I mean, they could have worked on Jim’s senses after hours, he certainly seemed able to use them on his own in the following episodes, why does Blair have to be there. I decided this was a subject for a "missing scene" or scenes. This takes place between the Pilot and Seige. See what you think.

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I can pretend.

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Detective James Ellison rubbed his forehead trying to ease the headache pounding behind his eyes. He sighed and picked up the phone.

"Blair Sandburg," the voice on the other end answered.

"Sandburg," Jim started.

"Hey, Jim. How’s it going?" the anthropologist asked, his voice peppy as usual.

Jim pressed his palm against one eye. "Not so good. Can you come over to my place again tonight."

"What’s wrong, Jim? Headache?" Blair asked concerned. They’d worked on Jim’s senses every night for the last four nights, ever since the Switchman had been caught. Jim’s progress was remarkable. During the tests Blair set up for him, the Sentinel performed quite well. But any time he tried to use his senses during the day Jim ended up with a blinding headache.

"Yeah. I tried to keep a visual on a suspect earlier. Did pretty well, caught the guy, but now I can hardly see straight." Jim massaged his temples, holding the phone in the crook of his shoulder.

"Okay, Jim. Close your eyes and take a deep breath."

Jim found himself following Blair’s instructions. The younger man’s voice flowed softly through the line, and after a few minutes the headache eased.

"Thanks, Chief."

"No sweat, man. I’ll be done here about four, so I can be at your place by the time you get home."

"Okay, see you then." Ellison hung up the phone. He could still feel the pressure behind his eyes, but it was manageable for now. He needed to figure out what the kid did that helped him so much. Was it something Blair said? Jim could never really recall the words, just the tone of his voice seemed to get through.

Jim growled under his breath. Oh well, maybe he could figure it out tonight.

The spluttering of Blair’s Corvair pulling into the parking lot got Jim’s attention. He checked the spaghetti one more time then moved toward the door. Blair stared at him for a second with his hand raised to knock, then his face broke into a huge grin as he entered the loft.

"That is like, so cool," the young man said dropping his pack on the couch and turning to face the Sentinel.

Jim shrugged, fighting a grin and went back to the stove. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, I could eat," Blair replied, taking another look around the sparsely decorated loft. Could use a few touches here and there. I wonder if it’s a Sentinel thing? It’s so empty. Blair faced his… friend? They’d only known each other for a little over a week. Could he consider Jim a friend? Well, I call people I know a lot less about my friends, why not Jim?

Jim strained the spaghetti and portioned out two helpings. My headache is gone. He hasn’t even said anything yet. When did it disappear? I remember thinking about it as I started dinner. He placed the plates on the table along with the sauce, salad and bread.

"What do you want to drink, Chief? I've got bottled water, beer, milk."

"Water's fine, Jim. I'll get it. What about you?" Blair asked heading for the fridge.

"Water, thanks," Ellison replied taking a seat at the table.

Blair joined him, setting the bottled water on the table. "So, what happened, Jim? You don't get headaches after our tests." Sandburg looked up abruptly. "You don't, do you? After I leave?"

Jim shook his head. "No, I'm usually a little tired and depending on the test you've put me through, maybe a little… I don't know… jangled."

"Jangled?" Blair's eyebrows rose questioningly.

Ellison shrugged and grimaced. "I can't really explain it." He thought for a moment then continued. "It's like last night, you had me listening to those different objects as they hit the ground to see if I could tell what they were made of. Afterwards my hearing seemed sharper."

"Did it hurt? I mean, like give you a headache or an earache?" Blair asked concerned.

"No. It was just strange. I started hearing things, identifying sounds that I would normally ignore. Took me a while to get to sleep."

"Geez, Jim! I'm sorry, man, I don't want these tests to hurt you," Blair stood up and started pacing, his dinner forgotten. He pushed his hands through his hair.

Jim sat back frowning. He hadn't meant for Blair to take this as his fault. Damn, the kid's helped me more in the last few days than I could have hoped. "Look, Blair," Jim paused waiting for the younger man to stop pacing.

Blair turned at the use of his name. Jim hadn't called him by his given name more than a couple of times since they'd met.

"Chief, the tests can be annoying and maybe a little uncomfortable, but they don't hurt me. Even these after effects are painless."

Sandburg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He returned to his seat and picked up his fork. He played with the spaghetti on his plate for a second. "Okay, so after the tests, the sense we've focused on is more fine tuned than before, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Does it stay that way?"

Jim frowned thoughtfully. "Not for long. Usually by the time I fall asleep, they're back to normal."

"Normal normal or Sentinel normal?"

The Sentinel stared at the man in front of him thinking hard about the question. It was a good question, strange, but it got to the heart of the matter. "Sentinel normal."

Blair nodded, his head continuing to bob up and down as his eyes grew unfocused with thought. "So does your hearing seem to be easier to control now?"

"I haven't really tried to use it since then. I don't know."

"All right. We can check that later, first I think we need to figure out why you're getting these headaches at work. You've had one every time you tried to use your senses?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. Today, and the two days before that."

"Which senses? Sight today…"

"Right. Smell yesterday, and sight the day before that too."

"So it's not just sight, I thought it might be… Were you in the same place when you tried to use them?"

The detective shook his head. "No, three different crime scenes. And I was fine using them, it was only after that the headache came on."

"Where were you when you first noticed the headache each time?" Blair was now taking notes on a napkin.

"I was still at the crime scene the first time, in my truck heading here the second and at the station today. The time after each varied, I think, somewhere between fifteen and thirty minutes, maybe."

"Damn, Jim, I don't know. Nothing seems to be connected." Blair tossed the pen onto the table and leaned back.

Jim watched him for a second. Blair was frustrated and concerned, whereas Jim realized he was rather relaxed and comfortable. The Sentinel let his hearing range out. He picked up the sound of his neighbors doing dishes. On the sidewalk out in front of the building a bicycle wheeled past. On the street several cars drove by and a motorcycle too. Other sounds made up a full backdrop, birds chirping quietly as they settled in for the night, the wind whistled through the trees and between the buildings. Doors opened and closed, feet tapped heel-toe, heel-toe down the sidewalk.

Hundreds of sounds that just a few days ago had invaded Jim's head and been unbearable. Now they were still there, but he could identify them and accept them. The only thing that had changed was that now Blair was here.

Jim blinked. Can it be that simple? "Um, Chief?"

"Yeah, Jim."

"I think I just figured out the connection."

Blair stared at him then shrugged. "Well, are you going to tell me?"

Ellison ran his hand over his face. "It's you, Chief."

The silence made Jim grin.

"Are you saying that when you use your senses around me, you don't have a problem, but if you use them when I'm not around you get a headache? That doesn't make any sense, Jim. How could a Sentinel function like that?" Blair stood up again and resumed his pacing.

"I don't know, Chief," Jim said, amused to see Sandburg so frazzled. "I'm just telling it the way I see it. I haven't had a single headache with all the tests we've done, but I try three simple things on my own and wham, headache."

"No way, this is not good, Jim. You need to be able to use your senses freely. Something's not right here. We need to test this."

"Yeah, I figured. Let's do it this weekend, I really don't want to deal with those headaches at work."

"Right. Fine. Then you'll have to avoid using your senses, man."

"Sit down and eat, Darwin," Jim gestured for Blair to return to the table. "Dinner's getting cold. You have two days to figure out how to set up the tests."

Blair grinned at Jim's disgruntled words. "I just hope we can figure this out."

They dug into their dinner silently, each contemplating the possibilities.

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

Jim opened the envelope he'd found slipped under his front door. He recognized the handwriting as Blair's.

Jim,

Homework. The kid left me homework. Jim shook his head, but went over to the windows. Out on the balcony, he focused his site on the park across the way and since it was getting dark, had little trouble locating and counting the lit lamps.

He went back inside and pulled out a frozen dinner, popping it in the microwave to cook while he showered.

The headache hit while he was drying off. Jim glanced at the clock and realized only eleven minutes had passed since he'd used his enhanced sight. The microwave dinged a reminder that his food was done cooking. Jim winced at the noise which only aggravated his headache. He wasn't hungry now anyway.

Jim left the dinner in the microwave and went to sit on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes trying the breathing technique Blair had used on him the day before. It helped a little.

The knock on the door jarred the Sentinel's attempt at peace. "It's open Sandburg," Jim growled, not moving from his place on the couch.

Blair peeked around the door as it opened and saw Jim slouched on the couch. "Ah, man. You got a headache." He dropped his pack on the floor beside the door and went around behind the couch.

Blair rested his hands on Jim's shoulders and started to gently massage the older man's shoulders and neck. "Take a long, deep breath, Jim. Hold it, now let it out slowly, that's it. Breathe. In and out, in, out. Good, nice and easy."

Jim listened to Blair's voice, soft but insistent, guiding him through the headache. He could almost feel the pain seeping away as Blair's strong hands worked the tension out of his neck and shoulders.

Blair felt the tension ease in the Sentinel's neck and gave Jim's shoulder a gentle pat as he moved around to sit beside him.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks, Chief."

"I'm sorry, Jim, but we had to try. You up to a few tests while I'm here?"

"Don't you want to know how many lampposts I saw?" Jim asked with a sly grin.

Blair laughed. "Only if you really need to tell me, man."

Jim chuckled. "What do you want me to do, Chief?"

Blair's eyes twinkled with something Jim was beginning to recognize as mischief. "Use your sense of smell to tell me what I left in my car."

"That's crazy," Jim said sitting up straight on the couch. "I don't even know where you parked."

Sandburg smiled gently. "You can do this Jim, just find a smell you can follow back to my car and then tell me what's in it. I left a window cracked."

Jim stared at the crazy grad student. What smell am I supposed to "follow?" The kid is the only… "Aw, that's gross, Sandburg!" The Sentinel stood abruptly and moved across to the windows.

"What?" Blair asked, standing to follow. "Just focus on the smell of my conditioner or aftershave, whatever's strongest. It's not that hard Jim."

"Oh, so now you could do it, huh, Junior?" Jim turned to face the younger man.

Blair sighed, his shoulders falling slightly as he regrouped. "That's not what I mean, Jim. Just listen, okay?" He watched until Jim rolled his eyes and nodded slightly. "Okay. Now, close your eyes and just breathe. Focus your sense of smell on me and pick out something you can easily identify. I chose this test because it will stretch you and if anything will cause a headache it'll be this test."

Ellison closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to relax and focus. At least that part of Blair's coaching was sinking in.

"All right, now, Jim," Blair said in a low tone. "You're gonna have to filter out the incidental odors, um, like maybe I walked by someone wearing really strong perfume, some of it might have attached to my clothes. Once you've identified a smell that's too weak to follow, you can discard it and look for something stronger."

Jim focused on Blair. It was a bit like peeling an onion. There were… peripheral odors as Blair said. A slight scent of cigarette smoke, perfume, even auto exhaust, hung around the edges. The Sentinel could even detect his own scent on Sandburg's hands from the impromtu shoulder rub. Jim cataloged each and discarded as instructed.

The next layer was more normal. The detergent Blair used on his clothes, the clothes themselves, and the smell of his worn jacket that lingered on his shirt. Is that pizza? Blair's shampoo and conditioner, deodorant and aftershave all layered on top of an even deeper layer.

Beneath all the man-made odors, Jim singled out the last layer that was distinctly Blair. It seemed a bit personal to Jim to be able to know someone by their natural body odors, but surprisingly it did not offend him as he thought it might. Yes, there was a smell of sweat, just a normal accumulation from the day, but the unique odor that he identified as "Blair" was not unpleasant.

It was also not strong enough to follow out to the car. So Jim filtered back through to the smell of Blair's aftershave. It seemed to be the strongest, most distinct odor. Then he opened his eyes.

"Okay, I've got something, now what?"

Blair's eyes glowed as he rubbed his hands together. "Good. Now just trace it back to the car."

Jim shrugged and went to the door. Blair followed him grinning wide enough to split his face. This is soo cool!

The Sentinel stopped in the hall and inhaled through his nose. He could smell the aftershave on Blair behind him, but it also lingered in the air faintly. He started toward the elevator then turned back to the stairs.

"Yes!" Sandburg said softly trying not to disturb the older man.

Jim went down to the next floor and followed the trail to the elevator, this time he got on and Blair followed. On the ground floor the scent became more diffuse, but there were only two ways in. Jim easily retraced Blair's path through the front door.

Outside it became more difficult. Fortunately, there was no wind, but hundreds of other odors threatened to overwhelm the Sentinel.

"Okay, easy Jim. Filter out the ones you don't need and focus on the scent you're looking for," Blair's low voice provided a focus and Jim found the scent again. He followed it to the far side of the parking lot and around a moving truck that completely hid the Corvair from sight.

"That's it, Jim. Now just focus on the car. I left the window down, you should be able to smell what's in there easily."

Jim focused and caught a familiar whiff. Pizza! Some of the smell had latched onto Blair during his drive over. "Pepperoni, Chief?"

"Yes!" Blair shouted. "You did it Jim, this is so great!" Blair pulled out his keys and retrieved the pizza. "I knew you could do it."

Jim grinned as he followed the excited grad student back inside. It was kind of fun. And exhilarating to know he could control these hyperactive senses so well. Now if only I don't get a headache.

They went back inside and ate, talking about the test and how it might be useful in police work. Blair did most of the talking, but Jim was content to listen, tossing in his own two cents when he felt it necessary.

About an hour later, Blair looked carefully at Jim. "Any headache?"

"Nope, nary a twinge."

"Well, I don't understand…." Blair's voice faded into the background and Jim suddenly found himself in the jungle.

"What the?" he said turning to view his surroundings.

"Accept, Enquiri," a voice said behind him.

Jim spun and saw the Chopec shaman, Incacha. "What? How?"

Incacha raised his hand. "I have come to you in spirit, Enquiri. You must accept that which you do not wish to believe you need. Only then will you have control of your senses."

"I don't understand, Incacha. I didn't have headaches when I was in Peru. At least none I remember."

"You are no longer here, you are in the Great City. I am not your Shaman. Accept him, accept what he offers and you will gain what you need."

"Please, Incacha, I don't…" the jungle faded and Jim found himself eye to eye with Sandburg.

"Come on back, Jim. What are you zoning on? Listen to my voice, man. Come on, come back," Blair said resting on hand on Jim's shoulder.

"I hear you, Chief."

"Oh, thank God. What did you zone on? One minute I was talking, I thought I had your attention, and the next you're staring off into space."

"Sorry, Sandburg," Jim said, letting the younger man assume he had zoned. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the visit from Incacha. "You know, I'm a little tired. Can we continue this tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure, Jim. No problem," Blair moved around the room, collecting his notepad and backpack. "When do you want me to come over?"

"'Whenever, I'm an early riser."

"Oh, okay. Good night, Jim," Blair said standing in the doorway.

"Night, Chief," Jim said barely acknowledging the fact that Sandburg had closed the door behind him.

Jim sighed and rubbed his face. Why can't life just be simple? Do I really need a long-haired grad student, cum-hippie wanna be to get a handle on this thing?

Comments are always welcome, please let me know what you think. Judy

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