By JudyL

May 5, 2003

We know they know, but what happens when Jim and Blair finally tell the Major Crimes team about their Sentinel?

Disclaimer: Not mine, oh well.

Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg moved around their kitchen putting the final touches on the snack trays and dinner. They had been working in companionable silence for the last half hour and the air was starting to get thick with unanswered questions.

Jim put the lasagna in the oven and closed the door with a little more force than necessary. He turned and leaned against the counter. "Three years, Chief. We've been hiding this and doing everything in our power to keep it under wraps for three years." His sky blue eyes met his Guide's stormy blue ones. "What are they going to think?"

Blair shook his head as he placed the bowls of chips and dips on a tray and lifted it from the kitchen island. "Come on, Jim. They're detectives, you think they haven't figured out something was going on in three years? Besides, they all heard the press about my dis and I'm pretty sure they put two and two together." He took the tray into the living area and arranged the bowls on the coffee table. The young man straightened and turned to look at his friend. "You sure about telling Daryl, man?"

The Sentinel shrugged. "I left that up to Simon." He straightened the candles on the island just to have something to do with his hands. "But, after all, Daryl's our friend too. He's smart and he saw the same things the rest of the gang did. Plus he's been with us through some pretty tough times, I'd say he has as much a right to know as anyone else."

The Guide nodded and returned to the kitchen to toss the salad. "Did you check the Loft again?" he asked quietly.

Jim nodded. "When I got up this morning. No bugs. And, I put the white noise generators at each window and one over the door."

Blair frowned. "You won't be able to hear them coming."

Jim smiled at his Guide's concern. "That's okay. It'll give Simon a chance to knock for once."

Blair grinned.

It had been several weeks since the dissertation fiasco. He and Jim were back on track, but they were still trying to sort out Blair's job situation. Jim was secretly working with his Dad's lawyers to get the University to allow Blair to finish his degree while Sandburg thought about the police academy.

Blair had been down at the station most days, since he had been kicked off campus. He needed something to keep him occupied. And the crew at Major Crimes had accepted him with open arms. In fact, except for the initial razzing they'd received after Sid's news release about the Sentinel, nothing had been said. It was almost as if it had never happened.

Almost, Blair thought. But especially after his news conference, he couldn't recall a single mention of heightened senses or Sentinels. Everyone had sort of tip-toed around, making sure Blair knew they supported him, but not pushing for details. Blair suddenly found himself fighting back tears of gratitude, but quickly got them under control. Their friends would be here soon. They deserved to know the truth.

The knock at the door surprised both men, lost in their own thoughts. Jim sent a startled glance at Blair who grinned wickedly back. "I told you." Jim stuck out his tongue and went to open the door.

Simon and his son, Daryl, came in at Jim's invitation. "What took you so long?" Simon demanded, taking his load of goodies over to the kitchen. Jim saw Daryl's thoughtful, but confused glance at his Dad. They hadn't been waiting outside the door that long, no more than usual.

Jim patted Daryl on the back and went to help Simon unload. "Sorry, Simon, we took some precautions." He pointed to the small square device above the door.

Simon followed the finger. "Oh." He looked at his son and saw him trying to figure out what it was. "The white noise generators?" Jim nodded. Daryl's eyes widened, then became thoughtful again.

"Daryl, wanna help me with this vegetable tray, man?" Blair interrupted. The four got to work arranging the food the Banks boys had brought for the party.

Jim and Simon worked side by side, putting cookies on a decorated plate. "I'm glad you brought him, Simon," Jim said softly.

Simon watched his son proudly. "Me, too."

Several minutes later, another knock at the door ushered in H and Rafe. The partners took one look at the domesticated scene in the kitchen and broke down laughing. Unable to get the pair to stop, Jim sighed and assigned them to setting up the card tables and extra chairs so they'd have room for everyone to eat together.

"I don't know what's so funny," Blair said, grinning at the infectious giggles coming from the men at the other end of the loft.

Daryl shook his head, thumped Blair on the chest right in the middle of the Tazmanian Devil's head on his apron and then gingerly pried the piece of lettuce out of the older man's curly hair. "Could be the new hair garnish, Salad-Boy."

Blair laughed as he saw the offending lettuce and wiped the side of Daryl's face with a dishrag. He showed it to the young man. "Couldn't have anything to do with the Ranch Dressing facial." Daryl grabbed the evidence. "You're supposed to be making the salad, not eating it." The evidence was thrown back and hit Blair in the chest.

"Really, you two," Simon said wiping cookie crumbs quickly from his own lips, "act your age," he said laughter fighting with his attempt to sound parental. This just elicited more chuckles from the peanut gallery and the two young men in the kitchen. "Jim! Help me out here."

Jim was on his way to answer another knock at the door, taking advantage of the timing to dispose of his own cookie crumb evidence. Megan and Rhonda grinned as he opened the door.

"We brought the beer, mate," Megan said holding forth two cases of some Australian beer Jim had never heard of.

"I hope you guys cook as well as you claim," Rhonda grinned, following Connor into the homey loft. She looked around and could see influences of both Jim and Blair's personalities in the decorations. H and Rafe were arguing quietly over the seating arrangements while Simon, Daryl and Blair were messing around in the kitchen. She met Jim's eyes and squeezed his forearm. "Nice place."

"Thanks, Rhonda. It's home."

She smiled, catching the truth behind those few words. "Need any help?"

Jim smiled ruefully. "I think those two could use a little guidance," he tilted his head toward the wayward partners setting the tables. Rhonda laughed and dragged Megan that direction.

The Sentinel frowned. Joel should have been here by now, then he chuckled as he heard the conversation behind him.

"Don't you guys know how to set a table?" Megan asked.

"Don't you know this stuff isn't real beer?" Rafe countered.

The discussion digressed from there and Jim went back to the kitchen to make sure there was no need to pull out a mop.

Surprisingly, the food fight that had been threatening seemed to have been stopped before it got out of hand. Sandburg had a few more pieces of salad in his hair. Is that a carrot? And Daryl seemed to be trying out a new masque of salad dressing. Ranch? No, Blue Cheese, Jim's sense of smell told him quickly. He smothered a grin.

Rhonda opened the door for Joel when he knocked. The big detective hugged her and handed off the bread to the guys in the kitchen. He took a few minutes to put H and Rafe in their places, gave Megan a friendly kiss on the cheek and helped her put the beer in the ice chests to cool down, then he moved over to the balcony and gazed out the window.

Blair saw him come in. Joel was being very quiet. And while that wasn't unusual in and of its self, Blair knew something was bothering the older man. The man who was probably closer to a father figure than anyone else in Blair's life. They had helped each other through some rough times and Blair just hoped this wasn't going to hurt their friendship.

He wiped his hands and swatted Daryl with the towel before going over to stand beside Joel. After a few seconds, Blair laid a hand on the Captain's shoulder. "We okay, Joel?"

Taggart raised his eyebrows at the question. "What? Oh, yeah, Blair. I've just been thinking about some things." He looked around at the others, seeing the fun they were having, also seeing a little forced cheerfulness, but mostly the friendship. "I don't know if this is right."

Blair frowned. "What do you mean, Joel?"

"What you are doing is going to open up secrets that you've been keeping for three years." Joel shook his head, his face concerned. "It's a lot of responsibility keeping a secret. Are you sure you can trust us with it?"

"Good God, Joel!" Blair stopped and continued in a hushed, but determined voice. "After everything you and the others have been through with us and done for us? Don't you think you deserve the truth?"

Joel put his hands on Blair's shoulders. "I just want you to know that we understand. And we don't expect or even need you to do this." He sighed and dropped his hands. "I don't want to lose your friendship over it. Or Jim's."

Blair smiled, relieved by Joel's words. "Hell, man. We need to tell you. We need your help, all of you. I just hope you'll still want to be friends once you realize what we're gonna burden you with," he finished wryly.

Taggart smiled slowly. "Can't be that bad, Son." He pulled the younger man into a bear hug which Blair gladly returned. They pulled apart, smiling and much more at ease with each other.

"Naw," Blair said, "it's actually really cool." He looked around the loft as if seeing it for the first time. It had changed a lot since the first time he'd seen it. Gone were the bare walls and minimalistic furnishings. Now the whole place spoke of the two people who called it home. Warm and comfortable, the loft was a safe haven for the two men who often saw the worst society had to offer.

Blair sighed happily, watching the activity.

Joel squeezed his shoulder. "When do we get this show on the road?"

The Guide met his friend's gaze. "You think we should do it before we eat?"

The older man shrugged. "It's up to you, but I think it would be a good idea."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll go check with Jim."

He saw his partner leaning against the wall by the front door. From there he had a good view of the entire lower floor of the loft and could see all the activity.

We should do this again for Christmas or Thanksgiving this year, Jim thought as he watched his Guide come over to him. He smiled at Blair and received a half-hearted smile back. Uh-oh. I think we're on. "Is it that time already, Chief?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, I think so, Jim."

"Okay," he said pushing away from the wall. The Sentinel and his Guide moved into the center of the living area and suddenly had everyone's attention.

Blair grinned nervously and glanced up at Jim. Ellison rolled his eyes. "You’re the professor, Professor." He watched a suddenly shy Blair fidget and avoid eye contact with everyone. "Oh, all right, would you all mind coming over and making yourselves comfortable. We have some things to tell you and I'm sure you have some questions." Jim motioned for the others to join him and Blair in the seating area.

Jim took one of the armchairs and Blair automatically perched on the arm beside him. Simon, Megan and Rhonda sat on the couch. Daryl took a seat on the floor by his Dad, while H and Rafe sat on the loveseat and Joel took the other armchair.

Jim looked around at the people he considered his closest friends. People he considered his family. They deserve to know the truth, Ellison, get a grip. They won't think you're a freak, they won't… Get on with it. He cleared his throat.

"First, I just want to say that I am very proud that you all consider me your friend. Three years ago, I could count my friends on one hand." Jim looked up at Blair as his Guide rested a warm hand on his shoulder. "It's true," he responded to the denials being voiced around the room. "I was a cold bast… well, I had walled off my emotions to protect myself and didn't want to let anyone in." He paused for a second not sure where to go next. Blair squeezed his shoulder gently.

"I am fortunate, for several reasons, that Sandburg pushed his way into my life. He is the biggest reason I can call you my friends, my family. And that by itself is reason enough for me to be grateful that Blair is in my life." Jim took a deep breath and charged ahead.

"However, the truth of the matter is that I would probably be locked up in a padded room or dead by now if Blair hadn't found me. Three years ago I started having some trouble. My senses would suddenly go haywire. I could smell things no one else could smell. I could hear a car start miles away. I'd see a bird miles up in the sky and tell you if it was a sparrow or a hawk without binoculars.

The problem was, I had no control. The sensory input was all out of proportion to what I needed to live, it came at unexpected times with no regard to when or where or what was going on at the time. These sensory spikes were driving me crazy," Jim glanced at Simon and continued. "It was shortly after I started the Switchman investigation, and I told Simon about it." Jim ran his hand through his hair. "Hell, by that time I was almost convinced I was going crazy. I went to the doctor and they ran all sorts of tests and found nothing wrong with me.

I'd pretty much decided they were all quacks and that I had no alternatives when this curly haired hippie came into the examination room where I was waiting after the last series of tests." Jim grinned at Blair who grinned back. They'd never forget that first or second meeting. "He fed me some line about not needing these high tech tests, handed me a business card and whirled out of the room. I felt like I'd just been hit by a tornado."

"Hasn't changed much has he?" Rafe said, chuckling.

Jim shook his head. "I guess I was a little desperate. At that point, any port in the storm, you know? So I went over to the University and met Blair Sandburg, anthropology student, not really expecting any answers, but also hoping, praying that someone could help me." Jim trailed off, remembering the utter frustration and fear he'd felt walking into that closet Blair had called an office. He really had been at the end of his rope that day. Grasping at straws.

"So," H said, "how did you and Hairboy hit it off?"

Blair grinned, seeing that Jim had wound down and seemed to need some help. He jumped in at the point where his expertise began. "Actually, we managed to insult each other right off and Jim threw me up against a wall." Blair put his hands out to calm their friends' outrage as he laughed at the memory. He had been shocked to find his feet off the floor and his back to the wall. Staring into those ice blue eyes that day, Blair had seen his life flash briefly before him. But he'd also seen the fear in Jim's eyes. It was that fear that started a fire low in his gut that had just come bursting out as a threat and a promise to the man who would become the most important person in his life. A man he would throw his entire life away for, or at least everything he'd worked for over the last 15 years.

"Well, you can't really blame the guy, I practically called him a caveman, a throwback to pre-civilized times. But Jim handled it very well," Blair continued with a smirk, hearing Jim groan as the Sentinel realized they were going to get the full story. "He pushed me up against the wall, called me a "neo-hippy witch-doctor punk" and threatened me with a search and seizure for drugs."

Their friends groaned, but it was impossible to be upset by the story because Blair was grinning from ear to ear as he told it.

"So, what did I tell this big, strong, scary looking detective to get him so upset, you might ask. And this is really why we asked you all here in the first place." Blair settled even further into "lecture mode." "My doctoral thesis was on tribal Sentinels. A famous explorer, Richard Burton, wrote "The Sentinels of Paraguay" in the late 1800's. It was this book that started my search for people with hyperactive senses. I found studies of people with one or even two senses that were above normal. You've probably heard about tasters that work for wine companies or people with very sensitive noses who work with perfume companies.

I, personally, have studied hundreds of people with one or two, and a couple with three hyperactive senses, but I wanted to find someone with all five senses. A Sentinel. A person with five working senses, just like the tribesmen described in Burton's book." Blair stopped, he had them all now, even Jim was watching expectantly for the story to continue, and he knew the story quite intimately.

"I had a friend at the hospital who faxed me Jim's chart and I knew right then that I'd found it. The Holy Grail, man. A real live Sentinel, right here in Cascade. I was so jazzed. And then Jim came to see me and I blew it," he shook his head. "Jim didn't want to hear how to work with his senses, he just wanted to get rid of them and get back to normal.

Not that I can blame him," he said compassionately. "I can only imagine what kind of hell his senses were giving him. Ordinary lights suddenly being too bright or blinding, background noise becoming clearer than the person's voice sitting across from you. It had to be frightening. The quickest fix was to get rid of them. But that wasn't going to happen. The senses are something Jim was born with. He probably used them as a child then due to the pressure to be "normal" the senses were repressed.

When Jim was lost in Peru, his heightened senses were needed for survival and came back online. It probably helped that the tribe he lived with knew about Sentinels and encouraged Jim to use his senses. Upon returning to the States, "normal" was required again, but being a Sentinel is more than being able to hear a pin drop in another room. It's about protecting your tribe." He shrugged and smiled. "Jim's tribe is Cascade, he needed his senses to protect her citizens and they came online for good this time. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time to help him."

"Now, Chief, if you're gonna tell the story, get it right," Jim interrupted with a growl. He was not going to let his Guide downplay his role in their partnership.

"Jim…"

"Sandburg, shut up." Ellison glared at his partner, then smiled smugly when he closed his mouth. "What Blair didn't tell you is that every Sentinel has a partner, his Guide. This person helps the Sentinel stay grounded. Sometimes when I focus on one sense too much, I zone out, that is, I lose myself in that sense and can literally forget to breathe. The Guide watches his Sentinel's back, helps prevent zone outs and teaches the Sentinel how to use his senses. Without the Guide, the Sentinel is lost. Isn't that right, Chief?"

"It's pretty much a package deal," Blair acknowledged. "We've come to believe that the genes for both the Sentinel and the Guide are inherited. Passed down from one generation to another. It seems to be instinctual for the Guide and Sentinel to search each other out. The Guide needs a Sentinel to teach and protect and the Sentinel needs a Guide to help him with his senses and to protect him while he uses them."

Jim laid his hand on Blair's knee to stop his lecture. "Chief, maybe we should eat now and they can ask questions during dinner."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that would be good." He and Jim stood and went to set dinner out for their guests. They listened to the quiet conversation in the sitting area as they worked.

"So, you've known about this from the start, right, Simon?" Joel asked without censure.

The Captain nodded. "Actually, it wasn't until the Kincaide incident that I found out the truth." He snorted. "Not that I was really very interested in hearing all the "mumbo-jumbo" Sandburg had to share. To tell the truth it scared me."

"Why, Dad? I think it's pretty cool, I mean, don't Jim's super senses help him be a better cop?" Daryl asked, turning to look up at his father.

"Yeah, they do, son, but you know how the saying goes, people are afraid of things they don't understand. That's part of the reason we've kept it under wraps for so long. Jim didn't need that kind of stress while he was learning to control his senses. And after that, it was a matter of privacy. It's really not anybody's business."

Henri leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "So why the change? Why are they sharing now? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they trust us, but we've known something was… different with Jim for some time and after that press release, we had a name to put to it. That didn't change how we feel about Jim or Blair."

Simon smiled, he was very proud of his people. "And I think that's why they want to be open about the whole Sentinel thing. We're a team, a family, and we work best when we know each other's strengths and weaknesses. The Sentinel factor is one that can work both ways. If the whole team knows how to deal with it, it's a strength. Keeping it a secret can be a weakness."

Jim interrupted, "Dinner's ready. Come and get it."

Everyone moved quietly into the kitchen to serve up their plates buffet style. Soon friendly bickering and vying for a place in line filled the loft with happy voices again. After they were all seated and had started eating, the conversation was continued.

"I'm relieved to finally let you all in on this," Blair said, taking another bite of salad. He chewed quickly as he realized they were waiting for an explanation. The Guide waved his hands, fork and all as he spoke. "It's good to know I can count on you to help Jim if I'm not there, that's all."

Jim grabbed the hand that had the fork in it before Blair could take his eye out. "Maybe they should protect me from you, Chief," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Jim," Blair put the fork down and continued. "We've gotten to the point where we don't have to worry about zone outs too often, but I'll still feel much better knowing the rest of you will know what to look for." He stopped, and sat very still for a moment.

"What's wrong, Blair?" Joel asked.

"Well, I just realized," he paused and looked at Jim. "We just sort of assumed you'd all be comfortable with this." Blair looked around the table. "Are you okay? I mean, we're not talking about some life-altering event here, but there are a lot of things we still don't know about Sentinels and Guides. Ask Simon and Megan. Things get pretty weird sometimes." His gaze ended on the Captain, focusing the rest of the team's attention there as well.

Simon shook his head, surprised that Sandburg still didn't get it. "We've all been here during those weird times, Sandburg. Especially during the last year. Granted, most of the team didn't know that the strangeness was related to Jim's Sentinel abilities, but you didn't see anybody go screaming into the night, did you?"

Blair ducked his head with a quick shake and dug into his lasagna. Jim cuffed him on the back of the head, grinning. "I think what Blair means, Simon, is that we don't want anyone to feel they have to actively participate in the Sentinel part of our lives. It will always be "there," but we haven't even told you everything, because you "didn't want to know."" Jim grinned to take the sting out of the words.

Simon grunted acknowledgment and took a bite of bread before he responded. "Well, I think it's a little late for an "ignorance is bliss" attitude, don't you?"

Ellison's grin widened and Blair met Simon's gaze with a big smile of his own.

Rhonda tapped her fork on her beer bottle. "So what exactly do we need to know to help you out? I know I'm not with you out in the field, but we have enough excitement at the station for me to be in a "need to know" situation."

Everyone had to agree with that, moans and chuckles of appreciation for Rhonda's direct hit circled the table. Blair got up to grab another pan of lasagna out of the oven.

"Can you grab me another beer when you come back?" Rafe asked.

"No, problem…" Blair said from the kitchen.

"I got it," Daryl said quickly moving to the ice chest. He snagged two bottles and nonchalantly put one by his plate as he handed Rafe the other. He sat down and looked up at Blair as the Guide sat a bottle of Root Beer down and switched it out for the beer bottle in one easy move. Daryl sighed, but smiled as he caught Blair's wink.

Blair took a swig and sat back down, knowing no one had missed Daryl's little ploy, but glad they'd kept quiet. Daryl deserved to be treated as an adult and there was no need to make a big scene about the way too obvious attempt at a beer.

"Well, Rhonda," Blair finally said, "mainly Jim needs something to keep him grounded while he's focusing on one sense."

"Usually, that's Blair," Jim continued for him. "He'll keep up a constant stream of encouragement, suggestions really to keep me calm and focused. Sometimes a touch is needed if I'm really zeroed in on one thing."

Joel nodded. The "closeness" of the two men had caused some raised eyebrows and whispered rumors by those that didn't know them well. Of course, none of the rumors were repeated within Ellison's hearing. Or were they? "That would explain why Blair is always right there with you," he said, opening the door to those rumors so that maybe they could clear the air.

Jim seemed to pick up the under current in Joel's words. Damn, why do people always assume we're sleeping together? And Joel? Naw, he's just letting us know it is a concern to some people. So how do I address this? Ellison grinned evilly as he slung his arm around Blair shoulders.

"Yeah, just can't get enough, huh, Sandburg?" Blair looked up at him confused and found his head being pulled toward Jim. The Sentinel, still grinning, pressed a quick kiss onto his Guide's forehead. "Love ya, man," he said, just loud enough for all to hear, then released his grip, but kept the arm across Blair's chair back.

Blair stared at his Sentinel, wondering what in the world had caused this sudden outpouring of emotion and touchy-feeliness. OK, not a real word, Sandburg, but what the hell?

Joel burst out laughing, a full-bellied laugh that caught everyone, but Jim by surprise. Ellison and Taggart shared a look and Jim had the grace to blush. The rest of their friends looked a little lost.

Blair shook his head. "Must be some strange food allergy," he muttered, sniffing the lasagna.

"Would you mind telling us what that was all about, Detective?" Simon demanded. "Calm down, Joel, before you fall out of your chair."

Joel took a deep breath and chuckled. "Sorry, Simon, Jim was just making a point in our little discussion." He caught Jim's eye and they both started to laugh.

"Care to share with the rest of us," Megan asked, this was bound to be good.

Blair stared at Jim, then at Joel. They didn't seem to be getting things under control. "Jim?" he asked softly. Ellison lost it and pushed his plate forward to lay his head on the table as his laughter took over. Blair looked up at Simon and shrugged. He really didn't have a clue what was going on.

Taggart finally managed to get a hold on himself. I guess it's not really that funny, it was just the look on everyone's faces. Chuckle. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Sorry, but the looks on your faces were priceless." Joel took a long drink and continued a bit more seriously. "You guys have heard the rumors at the station. I just reminded Jim what some people see when they see Jim and Blair together."

"Oh," Blair said, then he grinned and patted the still chuckling Jim on the back.

"Yeah," Joel replied. "We know," he looked around the table to include everyone, "that you two are not gay, but you're very close. You live together, you work together, you play together. And Blair isn't even officially a cop, so what's he doing hanging out at crime scenes?"

Blair grimaced, but nodded. He'd heard the nasty rumors and innuendoes. He was sure Jim had heard them too.

"Not that it would matter," Joel continued, "but the Sentinel thing explains that closeness. Blair's there to back Jim up. He has to be there."

Jim lifted his head and wiped his face, still grinning he stood up. "I'll be right back." He went to the bathroom to wash his face.

"You enjoyed that way too much, Ellison," Blair said smiling, shaking his head. It was good to see his Sentinel let his hair down, so to speak.

"You bet your sweet ass I did," Jim yelled from the bathroom.

That got everyone laughing. Jim came back out and ruffled Blair's hair as he sat down.

"Not the hair, man," Blair grumbled with a smile.

"You two are crazy," Rafe said, knowing that he and H weren't far behind. "But, you know, I don’t think that most of the officers with long-term partners, see anything more than a really good partnership."

Blair smiled. "Thanks, Rafe." He elbowed Jim, who was trying to steal his uneaten bread and continued. "The rumors are gonna be there no matter what, but it's good to know our friends know the truth."

"Get real, Sandy, we've all seen you and Ellison fall head over heels for some sheila often enough to disregard rumors," Megan waved her hand for emphasis. "Besides, they're probably just jealous. The two of you bring down more bad guys than any other team. The rumors are an attempt to equalize you, make you more human."

Jim raised his eyebrows at that. He'd never really thought of it that way. He was just doing his job, as a cop and a Sentinel. Why would people be jealous of that? Now the friendship he had with Sandburg, that was a reason to be jealous. Jim smiled thanks at Megan and saluted her with a tip of his beer bottle.

"That's probably true, Megan," Blair responded, "but there is a bit more to this Sentinel/Guide thing than just being partners. We haven't really figured out how much of it is because we are friends and how much is related to the Sentinel part, but we do have a connection that's deeper…" the Guide struggled for words, not wanting it to make it sound like their relationship was better than anyone else's.

"It's…" Jim interrupted, "almost a spiritual thing. I think it does have to do with the Sentinel and Guide partnership. We are pretty sure the Guide and Sentinel are drawn to find each other, so it would only make sense that there's a connection on another level. A subconscious level. I've used that… bond, to find Sandburg before." Jim stopped, not wanting to go into the where's and when's. The fountain loomed before him.

Blair laid his hand on Jim's arm and gave it a squeeze. "Anybody want some pie? Simon brought about half a dozen…" he grinned at the Captain.

"Sandburg! You can't have any," Simon glared menacingly, then ducked as a wadded up napkin flew his way.

"What kind?" Rhonda piped up, grabbing a few of the plates from the people beside her to start clearing the table.

"Don't worry about those, Rhonda," Jim said, taking the plates from her. "Relax, I'll take care of these." He and Blair cleared the table while Simon and Daryl served pie.

"I don't know," H said, shaking his head sadly at the sight of the men in the kitchen. "Maybe we should get them matching aprons." He and Rafe started to laugh.

"I heard that," Jim said menacingly, waving an oven mitt at them. This only encouraged more laughter.

"Hey, Jim," Blair said, settling back into his chair after finishing his pie a la mode. "Maybe we could show them a few things." Blair waggled his eyebrows.

Jim groaned. "No tests today, Chief. We're supposed to be having a good time here."

"Oh, come on Jim. You guys want to see what he can do, don't you?"

Jim shook his head, trying to convince them that they really didn't. But he knew they would and wasn't really upset by it. He did feel a token resistance was necessary though.

"Come on, Jim, this is so cool," Daryl said, practically bouncing in his chair.

Jim smiled. "Okay."

"This is gonna be so great!" Blair said. "You don't know how hard it is to get him to cooperate with these tests." He stood up and looked around, thinking about what they could do.

"Uh, Chief, no tests, remember? Just a few examples?"

Blair looked at him, tried to stare him down, then nodded, crestfallen. "Okay," he said softly, turning to hide his sudden grin, on the pretext of grabbing a book.

"Come over here, Daryl." He guided the young man to the windows and gave him the book. "Now, when I say so, open the book to any page and hold it so the page faces the room." Blair went back over to Jim. "You get back there by the bathroom."

"All the way back there?" Jim said, faking panic.

"Come on, man," Blair pushed him back until he was in place. This was going to be fun. "Why don't one of you go over with Daryl so you can see what Jim is reading?" Rhonda went over to help.

"Okay, Daryl, anytime you're ready."

Daryl opened the book and faced it toward Jim.

Jim focused on the page, this was pretty easy, simple really compared to trying to focus in a stressful atmosphere. He felt completely relaxed and focused. The words were clear as a bell. "Do you want me to read the whole page? Should I start at the top?" he teased.

Blair punched him in the shoulder and Jim was pleased to note the page never wavered. "Read the fifth line, Jim. Smart ass," he said under his breath.

"I heard that."

"I know," Blair sing-songed back.

"Okay, fifth line, which column? It's the dictionary, Chief!"

Blair chuckled. "The first column is fine, Jim. Get on with it man."

"Granule, pronounced gran yool. Noun. Number 1, a little grain. Number 2, a small particle. Kinda like your brain, Einstein."

"No embellishments, Ellison," Blair groused, going over to the dictionary to check. "That was line five and six, Jim."

"So sue me," Jim replied with a grin. He took a swig of beer. He was having fun with this.

Blair chuckled. "So, what do you think?"

"That is pretty impressive," Joel said. "Can you see that well all the time?"

Jim shook his head. "No, I have to concentrate, and truthfully, I probably would have more trouble doing something like that on the street."

"Why's that, Jim?" Simon asked, putting aside his discomfort over everything "Sentinel" to learn what made his friend tick.

"I am really relaxed right now. And as Blair can tell you, the more relaxed I am, the easier it is to use my senses. Out at a crime scene there are other people, distractions, possible dangers, I usually can't relax enough to get the full use of my senses."

"That's why the tests are necessary, Jim. I keep telling you, practice is all you need," Blair urged Jim to accept his position.

"I know that, Chief. I really do," Jim shrugged. It was hard to admit he didn't have control, and the tests forced him to acknowledge the fact.

Blair patted him on the shoulder. "Why don't we show them how good your hearing is?"

When Jim nodded his approval, Blair continued. "Take Simon and go into my bedroom. Simon, shut the door and turn on the CD player, loud enough so you can't hear us out here. Jim, I'm going to have someone repeat a series of numbers. Have Simon come out when you've got them, okay?"

Jim nodded again and followed Simon into the bedroom.

Blair waited for the music to come on, then grabbed Megan and dragged her over to the window. He showed her a piece of paper, read this at a whisper, he mouthed to her. He turned to Joel, "So you guys gonna stick around and watch the game with us tonight?" He motioned for them all to talk normally.

Megan read the numbers softly, three times before Simon came out and indicated they were ready.

Jim smirked at Blair as he came out to stand beside his friends. "Well?" Blair asked.

"You're evil, did you know that?" The Guide put on his best "who me?" look. Jim rolled his eyes. "5, 33, 12, 48, 2."

"That's it!" Megan said showing the paper to the others. "That is, as Daryl would say, way cool, man." She chuckled with the others.

"Yeah, it is," Jim said, "but again, that's here in the safety of my own home. Out on the street I'd have to contend with horns blaring, birds chirping, you name it. Almost any noise, when I'm focusing that strongly can send my sense of hearing spiking."

Rafe frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jim thought for a second, then remembered a very vivid example. He spoke very softly. "Think about sitting in a quiet peaceful park, you can hear the breeze blowing in the trees and you can just make out the call of a bird in the distance, then SOMEONE BLOWS A HORN IN YOUR EAR."

The others jerked back reflexively as Jim shouted the last bit. He nodded. "It's sort of like that. I'm trying to pull one voice or sound out of hundreds and all it takes is one of those hundreds to shatter my concentration and usually leave me with a splitting headache."

"Wow, Jim, I never realized," Simon said softly, realizing how much he had taken Jim's abilities for granted.

"That's why I need Sandburg around," Jim replied. "I can focus and control my senses much more easily, with his guidance." Simon nodded, seeing that he had been right to put pressure on the brass in regards to Blair's status.

"So," Rhonda said, thoughtfully, "your sense of smell, taste and touch are all just as sensitive?"

"Pretty much. Smell and touch sometimes surprise me, I tend to keep them dialed down to a low level unless it's necessary to use them or I'm here at home."

"Dialed down?" Henri asked. They all moved back over to the seating area and made themselves comfortable.

"Blair came up with this idea pretty early on to help me control the level my senses were on. It would be overwhelming for me to walk around with all five wide open to stimuli. The basic idea is that each sense has a dial that goes from 0-10. Ten is high or most receptive. I usually operate around a 3 or 4. During a sensory spike, with Blair's help, I can turn the dial down on the out of control sense. Sometimes I can do it myself now, but it always takes longer than when Blair helps."

"I also have to make sure he doesn't turn the dials down too low," Blair added. "It's pretty tempting when he's injured just to put touch on zero, but then he risks further injury and even death if he ignores the pain."

"But if you can ignore the pain," Daryl argued, "isn't that a good thing? He could keep chasing a suspect or save someone…"

"Pain is there for a reason, Daryl. Sure, Jim could dial it all the way down," he glared at his partner, "and he has before, but that puts him at risk and maybe even defeats the whole benefit of being able to control the pain." He stood up and paced as he spoke. "Just imagine, Jim gets shot, not like that's ever happened," Blair said sarcastically, "he turns down the pain to continue chasing the bad guy. Eventually, his body is going to say "No more," and he's going to pass out, just because his mind doesn't acknowledge the pain, doesn't mean his body's gonna listen. He passes out and one of several things happens: One, no one knows where he is, so he bleeds to death. Two, the bad guy sees him fall and comes back and finishes the job. Three, his partner and the bad guy see him fall, partner goes to help, bad guy shoots them both. Four…"

"Blair." Jim snapped, "They get the picture." He continued more gently, "And I do too."

Blair stopped his pacing at Jim's words, looked at his soul mate and sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and sat back on the arm of Jim's chair.

"Geez, Jim, give the kid a break already," Rafe said. "It sounds like he has to work overtime just to keep you in line."

"Ain't that the truth," Blair muttered.

Jim had the grace to look embarrassed. He ran a hand over his face. "I guess I do tend to push it a little sometimes."

Simon snorted. Blair smiled and gave the Captain a knowing look. Silence filled the loft for a short time as everyone digested the information.

Joel broke the silence with a soft question. "How do we know if you're zoning and how do we get you out of one?"

"Chief?"

Blair took a deep breath. "It takes a little practice to recognize the start of a zone. I can almost always stop them before they start now." He caught Jim's eye and grinned apologetically. "Time for another example, big guy." Jim nodded. "Okay, everyone watch Jim, pay attention to the look of concentration on his face when he's using his senses. Jim, can you tell me what flavor pie is in the third pan there?" He pointed across the room to the pies on the counter.

Jim looked at the pan in question, then inhaled through his nose, he closed his eyes in a long blink then opened them. "Apple."

"That's right," Blair said proudly, clapping Jim on the shoulder. "Did you see the difference? It's very subtle, he looks like he's concentrating on something, but there's just a bit more to it, almost like he's somewhere else at the same time."

"I can see what you mean, Sandburg," Simon said, "but I've seen it quite a few times before myself. It's an intensity that isn't there normally."

Jim blushed. "I didn't realize I was under such scrutiny."

"What did you think "observer" meant, Jim?" Blair asked, cuffing him on the back of the head.

"Watch it, Junior."

"So, these zones," H interrupted, "how do we know when you go from sensing to zoning?"

Blair answered, "It's totally opposite from the concentration. He just looks… out of it. Kinda lost in thought, but more stoned."

"Stoned!" Jim said outraged.

"He's right, Jim," Simon defended. "You've never seen yourself in a zone out. It's pretty scary. And it's even scarier trying to pull you out of one."

"Blair never seems to have much trouble," Jim replied a bit defensively.

"Yeah, right," his Guide grumbled.

"Chief?"

"Jim, I… it petrifies me when you zone. What if I can't pull you back? I mean, your heart rate drops, sometimes I can't even tell if you're breathing. That's why I need to be there. If I can prevent a zone out, then I don't have to worry about you not coming out of one."

Nobody moved. This was obviously not something the Sentinel had been aware of. Jim watched his partner struggling with the memory of past zone outs. The fear and anguish that Blair felt was clearly visible on his face. He's afraid he'll fail me, but if I zone, who's failing who?

"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't realize."

Blair met his Sentinel's eyes and saw the heartfelt apology. "Hey, man, it's part of the job description, you know?" Jim clapped a hand on Blair's knee.

"Keep up the good work, Chief."

"I thought we were going to watch the game," Joel said, trying to lighten things back up. It was a little scary to know Jim's abilities could be such big liabilities.

"Yeah," Blair said bouncing up to grab the remote. "Here, Rafe," he tossed it to the young detective, "I think it's channel 4. Anybody want another drink?"

The game got started and the Major Crimes team settled into some friendly competition regarding the teams and players. They polished off the chips and other snacks as well as Megan's beer. As the game entered the final minutes, they started to clean up and get ready to leave for the evening.

"Don't worry about it," Blair said, "Jim will clean it up after you leave." He ducked the swat to the head, grinning at the older man as Jim caught him in a headlock.

"Anyone want to tickle Sandburg into submission?" Jim said, holding his partner's head under his arm.

"That is too tempting," Megan replied advancing on the pair.

"NO WAY! Jim let me go. I'll scream!" Blair cried out, trying in vain to get out of his traitorous friend's grip.

As Megan got close enough to tickle, Jim relented and let Blair "slip" out of his grasp. Had to leave the kid some dignity. He chuckled, then ducked as the pillow flew in his direction. It went over his head and hit Megan in the face.

"Ooo, I'll get you for that Sandy!" she said chasing him around the living area with the pillow. The others continued to pick up, chuckling at the spectacle of Blair and Megan pelting each other with sofa cushions.

Jim stood back and watched, a grin on his face. Blair really liked Megan, but neither one of them seemed sure it should go any further than friendship. "Don't break anything," he called out as one of the floor lamps tilted precariously before Blair caught it and set it firmly upright again.

The loft was mostly straightened, the card tables and chairs had been folded and stacked back against the wall. A couple of trash bags sat by the door, ready to be hauled down to the dumpster. Simon was trying to convince the others to take a pie or two home with them, he really had brought too many. And everyone's coats and jackets had been handed out in preparation for departure.

"Aaahem!" Simon cleared his throat.

Blair and Megan looked up from the couch, Megan had Blair pinned down ready to tickle.

"Yes, Simon," they replied in unison.

"I think it's time to leave, Connor," Banks said, motioning to the door.

Megan looked down at Blair. He shrugged and grinned.

"Oh, all right," she said pushing herself up off the couch. "I'll get you next time, Sandy," she threatened.

Blair sat up and followed her to the door. "Oooo, I'm soo scared, Connor."

They laughed and everyone said their good nights.

Jim pushed the door closed and they both turned to lean against it.

"Well," Blair said, "we did it."

"Yeah."

"I think everything's gonna be okay."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay? And don't say "yeah.""

Jim grinned. "Yes."

Blair smacked him across the chest and moved over to sit on the couch. He slid down and leaned his head back.

"You okay, Chief?"

"Yeah." The pillow hit him in the head and he opened his eyes to glare at the Sentinel. The glare turned into a chuckle as his partner took a seat beside him.

"They asked some good questions."

"Yes they did, Chief."

"You going to be okay working with them if you need to? I mean, if I go to the academy, I won't be able to go with you everyday."

"It won't be much different than before. You haven't been with me twenty-four seven for the last three years. I've managed all right."

Blair frowned. "But you rely on your senses a lot more now than you used to. You have to trust them to help you out."

"I do Chief, I'd just rather have you there."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Jim. I've been thinking…"

"Is that what I smelled?"

"Funny. You want to hear or not?"

"Go ahead, Blair. I'm listening."

"I've been thinking about the police academy. And… I think I'd like to try it."

Jim sat up and looked at his friend. "Really?" He had begun to wonder. Blair had asked for some time to think about the offer. Jim had begun to think his partner would refuse. Blair had never been comfortable around guns, although when forced to, he had used them. "Are you sure you'll be all right with that? You will have to carry a weapon."

"I know, Jim. But I've given this a lot of thought. It's not the gun that kills it's the person carrying the gun. Used responsibly and with training, I may never have to use it."

"Blair," Jim shook his head, "you have to assume that you will have to use the gun and probably even make the choice to kill with it. Otherwise, you're not going to make it."

"That didn't come out right, Jim. I know, with all the crazies we attract, that I'll have to use deadly force at some point." He took a deep breath and exhaled noisily before continuing. "But that doesn't mean I have to use it all the time. I can use my head to get us out of situations, it's not all about "the gun.""

Jim smiled proudly at his partner. Some officers still didn't understand that the gun was a last resort. Jim was a bit afraid that Blair would carry that too far, but at the same time, he knew how creative his Guide could be in sticky situations. Baseballs, vending machines. He also knew Blair would do everything he could to become the best official partner possible.

"As long as you're okay with it, Blair, I'll back you one hundred percent. I just want you to be happy."

"I know, Jim. Tonight, I realized that I want to continue working with the Major Crimes unit. You guys are like family to me. And besides the fact that you need me to watch your back, I would miss not being around them. I just hope I live up to Simon's faith in me."

"No problem, there Chief. You already know more about police procedure than some of the instructors. And if you need help, you can always ask me or Simon, or any of the rest of the gang."

"Yeah." Blair closed his eyes, feeling at peace with the decision for the first time. He was nervous about facing the students and instructors at the Academy. They wouldn't know the truth. They'd think he was a fraud. But he would work hard and get through with the best scores he could make, then who could argue. Either he would prove he deserved to be Jim's partner, or he would fail and prove himself a fraud.

Jim heard Blair's heart rate increase and laid a hand on Blair's shoulder. The young man relaxed a bit and opened his eyes to see faith and love shining from the eyes of his Sentinel.

"I'm beat, Jim. Think I'll turn in." He smiled, pushed up off the couch and headed for his room.

"Goodnight, Chief."

"Goodnight, Jim."

Blair smiled to himself as he got ready for bed. He'd be at Jim's side in an official capacity in no time. He'd train hard and work on his marksmanship, the other classes couldn't be any harder than the courses he'd been taking for his degree. He frowned. Maybe one of these days, I can finish my doctorate. In the meantime, he'd be the best cop possible and prove to everyone that he deserved to be Jim's partner.

He heard Jim head up the stairs as he crawled under the blankets. Blair tucked his hair behind his ear and froze. I need to talk to Simon about my hair! "I'm not cutting my hair, Jim!" he said in a normal voice.

"Go to sleep, Kojak," came an amused voice from the room above.

Blair grinned and closed his eyes. Well, I'm not was his last thought before he fell asleep.

The end

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

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