MAKING SENSE by Carolina Moon
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, and I’m making no money from their use.
Category: discipline (discussed only!), no slash
Feedback: [email protected]
Spoilers: a small one for ‘Sweet Science’ ( IMHO, a great episode for a discipline story!)
Thanks you to Susan, Barbara and Laura for reading this over for me.
I love getting home from work after a hard day. Coming through the door, slipping off my holster and gun, putting my badge on the table by the door. Just becoming Simon again, after a full and crazy day of answering to ‘Captain Banks’. Now I was ready to do nothing more taxing than listen to a little jazz and let the stresses of the day melt away. I poured myself a glass of Chardonnay from one of the few remaining bottles in the stock Joan and I had brought back from our last trip to the Napa Valley. Must have been four years ago—one of those trips you take hoping to recapture some of the magic. Didn’t work, but the wine is still good. I sank back in my recliner, ready for a quiet evening.
I didn’t even bother reaching for the remote. After the day I had, there was no way I was up to anything featuring car chases or courtroom scenes. I just wanted to enjoy some serenity after the noise and chaos of the bullpen.
My pleasant reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door and I scowled. It was too late for a Girl Scout selling cookies, and none of my friends had mentioned stopping by. Maybe it was a neighbor needing something. I reluctantly stood and wandered over, peering out of the peephole automatically. You don’t stay alive as the captain of major crimes in a city like Cascade by being careless.
I was surprised to see Sandburg standing on my front porch, looking slightly bedraggled. After the way today’s bust had gone down, I figured he and his partner would be home ‘discussing’ it. I didn’t have all the details yet—in fact, I had specifically told them I didn’t want them until tomorrow morning, after I had a chance to get a good night’s rest, but the murmurings I’d heard as I was leaving the office today indicated that Jim was definitely peeved with his young partner, and the things that Blair did to upset Jim invariably upset me, too.
I reluctantly reached for the knob, bidding a silent and regretful farewell to my peaceful evening. Pasting a smile on my face that I hoped looked sincere, I pushed the door open.
“Blair, come in. Where’s your partner?” I asked, craning my neck to see him. Jim wasn’t with Blair on the porch, so I assumed he was parking the car.
Blair pushed his straggly locks behind his ear with his thumb in that unconscious nervous habit he has. “Uh, he’s not with me, Simon. I just—I just needed to talk to someone and…” He stopped suddenly and stared at the floor, looking as low as I’d ever seen.
“Blair? What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, immediately becoming concerned. Sandburg had never come to visit me before without Jim, and it was making me uneasy. “Is Jim all right?”
“He’s fine, Simon. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just let you get back to your evening.”
Startled that the younger man had seemed to read my feelings, and feeling oddly guilty that I had made him feel unwelcome without his partner, I quickly rushed to reassure him. “No, Blair, you said you needed to talk, so why don’t you come in and have a beer.” I eyed him more carefully, noting that his clothes and hair were both damp. “Blair, where’s your car? Did it break down?” I asked, thinking that would explain his sudden appearance at my door.
He shook his head quickly. “No, Simon, I don’t have my car. I took a bus, and then walked the rest of the way.”
I frowned at that, preparing to launch into a lecture. The little suburban subdivision my house was in was at least a mile from the nearest bus stop, and it was long past dark and drizzling. Something in his forlorn posture made me hold my tongue, however. “Well, it must be pretty important then, so come in and get dried off. How about a cup of tea instead of a beer? You’re probably chilled to the bone.”
“Thanks, Simon,” he replied, following me into the kitchen. His manner was really beginning to worry me. Usually, you couldn’t get the kid to shut up, but now he was as silent and subdued as I’d ever seen. He said nothing while we waited for the kettle to whistle, just leaned on the counter toying with the sleeve of his jacket
Once his tea was ready, I nodded toward the table. “Why don’t we sit down so you can drink your tea and we can talk about whatever’s brought you out on such a rotten night,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t as gruff as usual.
To my surprise, he shook his head quickly. “No, Simon, I’ll just drink it here.”
Not wanting to push, I wordlessly handed him the cup, and he set it on the counter with trembling hands.
“Blair--”, I began, but he interrupted me.
“Jim hit me,” he blurted out, not looking at me.
Of all the things I might have been expecting to hear, that was the least likely. “What?” I bellowed, no doubt scaring him. I pushed my horror and disbelief aside and quickly took his chin in my hand, turning his face into the light so I could check for bruises or other marks I might have missed. “Blair, how? Why?” I demanded as I examined him. He tugged away impatiently.
“No, Simon, he didn’t hit me in the face,” he said, and I felt my stomach plummet even further. If a man with all of Jim’s strength and training had aimed a blow to Blair’s abdomen, it was amazing the kid was still standing. My head reeled with sickening thoughts of internal injuries—and the possibility of arresting one of my best men—and oldest friends—for assault. “Oh, God, Blair, let me see,” I managed to gasp out as I reached for his shirttail.
To my surprise, he jerked away from my touch. “Simon, he didn’t punch me, either,” he snapped impatiently. I dropped the shirt and stared back quizzically, even more puzzled to see that Blair was now flushed with embarrassment.
“Blair, would you please tell me what happened!” I practically yelled, trying to make some sense of this whole thing. He flinched slightly, and I felt another stab of guilt.
Blair finally looked up at me, his eyes full. “He spanked me, Simon,” he gasped out, barely loud enough for me to hear him.
It took a moment for my brain to process what my ears had just heard. When it finally sunk in, I let out a deep laugh, sure that Blair had been planning this little trick since the moment he walked in tonight, just to see the look on my face. In fact, I was willing to bet that his devious partner was somewhere nearby, just waiting to get a good chuckle at my expense. I grinned at Blair, expecting to see him grin back, but to my surprise, he was glaring up at me as though I’d kicked him.
“I should have known not to come here,” he muttered, seeming to close in on himself. I stared at him for a minute more, waiting to see some spark of humor, but his eyes stayed cold.
“C’mon, Blair. You’re joking, right?” I asked, my own grin fading just a bit.
“Do you really think I’d joke about a thing like that?” he demanded.
I just stared at him, my jaw wide. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked in amazement. He gave a tiny nod, obviously embarrassed now that his secret was out in the open. I rocked back on my heels, trying to make sense of his confession. On the one hand, I was overwhelmingly relieved that no immediate trip to the emergency room would be needed. I’m afraid the thought that immediately followed was a little less generous: something along the lines of ‘what took him so long?’ But one look at Blair’s brimming eyes convinced me that he was much too troubled to find humor in the situation.
Reminding myself that as captain of major crimes, I had to be ready to handle anything, I managed to speak calmly and without a trace of humor. “Blair, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you. Why don’t you sit down so we can talk about it,” I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, as though I dealt with situations like this every day.
“I’d rather stand, Simon,” he said miserably, and I grasped his meaning with a blush of my own.
“OK, then, why don’t you just tell me what happened,” I replied, propping myself against the counter with him, determined to withhold judgement throughout his explanation.
Blair said nothing for a long few moments, and then took a deep breath. “Jim was angry with me about how the Milhouse bust went down. After we gave our statements to the officers on the scene, we went home and tried to talk about it. The argument got louder and louder and then finally, Jim just hauled me over his hip and swatted my butt.”
I frowned at the over-simplified explanation. I knew that Jim would never hurt a hair on the kids’ head without a damn good reason. It was clear that my favorite little obfuscator was leaving an awful lot out, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. “Just a minute, Blair,” I interrupted sternly. “I have the feeling you’re skipping some rather pertinent details.”
He squirmed under my hard glare. “C’mon, Simon, you know how Jim is—always making mountains out of molehills.”
My gaze didn’t waver at all. “The whole story, Blair. Now.”
As expected, he wilted under that look and continued with a resigned sigh.
“Well, you know we nabbed Milhouse today?” he asked, and I nodded. “I know you don’t have all the details yet, but Jim and I caught sight of Milhouse’s motorcycle just as we were coming out of the parking lot of that restaurant on Sinclair. We followed him to the warehouse district around 53rd street. I called for back up, but by this time, we were way back in that industrial area, with no street signs, so I knew they wouldn’t catch up to us too quickly. We saw Milhouse jump off and run inside one of the buildings, so Jim got out and told me to wait in the truck. Jim was going to try and use his senses to figure out if anyone else was in the building. We knew back up was coming, so of course he didn’t go in—.”
I snorted at that, knowing it was said only for my benefit. The Jim Ellison I knew wouldn’t bother waiting for a silly little thing like back-up. Even as upset as he was, I guess Blair’s first instinct was always to protect his Sentinel.
Blair glanced at me quickly and then sped up his recitation, perhaps hoping that whatever he was going to tell me next wouldn’t have as much of an impact if he said it fast. “—but he didn’t want to give Milhouse a chance to cover his tracks. I got out of the truck—just to see if I could hear any of the other units responding!”, he assured me hastily. “I could hear sirens very faintly, but I couldn’t tell how far away they were.”
“I knew Jim had his senses turned up high, trying to get a handle on what was going on inside, when suddenly, there was this big explosion. I mean, glass shattering, flames, everything. I fell back, but as soon as I got to my feet, I could see Jim getting up. I could tell he wasn’t injured, but the sudden noise really had his senses spiking.”At this point, Blair paused again and gave me a sideways glance. I knew we must have come to the part of the narrative that had earned the young man before me the wrath of his older partner. By now, he was looking sorry that he had even shown up at my door, but I wasn’t about to allow him to back out before I heard everything. He fidgeted for a minute, and I could tell that hyperactive brain of his was working overtime, trying to come up with a way to explain what had happened in the best possible light.
“While Jim was still recovering, I saw Milhouse come flying out of the side of the building with a duffel bag. He wasn’t hurt, so I guess he set off the explosion to scare us off, or just destroy some evidence. He was running toward a jeep parked in the back. I yelled to Jim, but he was still trying to get his senses under control. I knew he’d be OK, and I knew how much he wanted Milhouse, so I jumped on the bike and went after him.”
“What?” I bellowed for the second time that night. The look on my face must have been truly awe-inspiring, because Blair jumped slightly and spilled his now-lukewarm tea. His face had paled even further, but he was quick to defend himself.
“I had to, Simon! I couldn’t just let him get away! You know how big a supplier Milhouse is!”
Vowing to hear Sandburg out, and then explode, I bit back my angry response. I just nodded and growled one word: “Continue.”
I could tell Blair was deeply wishing he could crawl in a hole somewhere and pull it in after him, but he knew he’d never escape without telling the whole story now. “The bike was more maneuverable than the jeep, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I just wanted to track him until the uniforms got close enough. As it turned out, he ended up doing the job for me. He turned to fire a shot at me, and ended up losing control of the jeep and crashing it into a pile of debris.” He almost grinned at his remembered victory, until he realized what he had let slip.
“Fired—a—shot?” I enunciated clearly. I closed my eyes, picturing Blair, hair flying wildly behind him, in some kind of mad chase, dodging bullets no less. The image made me cold all over. “Let me get this straight,” I muttered through clenched teeth when I had control of my faculties once again. “You jumped onto a motorcycle—without a helmet, I assume—to chase after a known felon. Without authority. And without even your own partner there to provide you with some back-up. And the only way you escaped without injury was because Milhouse was too clumsy to drive and shoot at the same time. Is that a fairly accurate accounting?”
“Well, yeah, but it sounds better when I say it,” Blair mumbled, clearly realizing that I really hadn’t been the wisest choice for a confidante.
I sighed deeply. No wonder Jim had been angry enough to try and swat a little sense into his young partner. My own fury at the kid’s story was so great, I was struggling with the desire to turn him over my knee for pulling such a stupid and reckless stunt.
“So, what happened after the crash?” I forced myself to ask, determined to keep a handle on my own temper.
“Well, by this time, the units responding to our call had found us. By the time I got off the bike, they had Milhouse surrounded. Someone called an ambulance for him, since he was a little banged up, and I had one of the guys drive me back to the warehouse. Jim’s senses were okay by this time, but he looked ready to spit nails. I thought he’d be happy to have Milhouse in custody, but as soon as we’d given our statements to the arresting officers, he practically dragged me back to the truck.” Blair stopped talking, and busied himself tracing circles on the counter with the spilled tea.
“What happened when you got home?” I prompted quietly, understanding his sudden hesitancy.
Blair finally looked up at me. “It was a long, silent ride, man, but once we got inside, Jim really started yelling. I tried to calm him down, but he kept saying that I could have been killed, and I shouldn’t have taken a chance like that. He was furious, Simon. As mad as I’ve ever seen him,” Blair said, his breath coming in odd little hitches. “I kept telling him that it was no big deal, but I think that just made him angrier. Then I tried to joke with him a little—I told him that from now on, he could just call me ‘Ponch’, you know, that motorcycle cop from that old show C.H.I.P.S.?—big mistake. He said I wasn’t taking a word he said seriously, and then he grabbed my shoulders. For a minute, I thought he was he was going to pin me up against the wall again. Instead, he just kind of flipped me over his hip and started swatting. I was so surprised, I didn’t even fight it at first. Then it really started to burn, but I couldn’t get enough leverage to break away.” By now, Blair had teared up again, and he was having trouble getting the words out. “I don’t think he planned it, ‘cause when he finally let me up, he looked as shocked as I did. But he didn’t even apologize, Simon! He just hugged me really tightly, and then kind of shook me and told me he hoped that would remind me never to do something like that again.”
By now, Blair was almost trembling from the stress of relating his story. I put an arm around his shoulder, my own anger forgotten—at least for the moment.
“Were the two of you able to talk about it?” I asked gently.
Blair didn’t answer right away, and when I looked closely at him, I realized he suddenly looked sheepish.
“Blair?” I asked, more sharply this time.
“Not exactly. I guess I kind of ducked out on Jim while he was taking a shower,” he admitted softly.
“What do you mean, ‘ducked out’?” I prodded ominously.
“Well, after he…well, you know… he said he was going to take a shower and change, and then we’d talk about it. He told me to just try and relax, and that he’d be out in a few minutes. I couldn’t just relax, Simon! I mean, the guy had just spanked me! I tried pacing, but it didn’t help, so as soon as I heard the shower start, I grabbed my keys and left. I made it to the parking lot before I realized that I really didn’t want to attempt to drive anywhere. I just needed to talk to someone, so I hopped on a bus and came here.” At this, he looked up at me, his eyes huge and waifish, begging me to understand.
In spite of his obvious remorse, I felt my blood pressure jump another few points—so much for my anti-stress medication. “You mean Jim doesn’t even know where you are right now? Blair, you’ve got to call him! He must be out of his mind with worry.”
“Yeah? Well, tough! He had no right to do that to me, so if he’s suffering a little mental anguish, it serves him right!” Blair said harshly. He seemed to be recovering some of his feisty spirit. Unfortunately for him, I was beginning to recover a little anger of my own.
“Just a minute, young man,” I said, glaring down at him. “While I’m not necessarily condoning what Jim did, I can certainly understand it. Right or wrong, Jim did what he did because he loves you, and he wants you safe. The two of you are going to need to sit down and talk about this if you hope to resolve it, and there’s no way you can do that by running away.”
Blair seemed startled by my stern words. “There’s nothing to resolve, Simon. Jim needs to apologize and promise he’ll never do it again, or I’m out of the loft for good.”
“Just like that, huh? You’re willing to throw your friendship with Jim away because what you did was reckless and foolish enough to make him take some decisive action with you?”
Blair nodded. “Jim has to understand that I’m an adult and he can’t punish me like I’m not”, he said, trying to sound firm.
His tone seemed a little tentative, so I pressed the advantage. “Let me ask you something, Blair. Who do I love best in the world?”
Blair looked at me strangely, but answered immediately. “Darryl, of course.”
“Right. I love my son, and I’d do anything for him. And that includes taking a hard line with him when he needs it. I’ve been lucky—in spite of our differences, Joan and I have managed to raise a pretty decent kid. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had to bust his butt good on a few—thankfully, a very few—occasions. And while I don’t like having to do it, I don’t regret it one bit. Because if it made him think twice about doing something dangerous, then it was worth it. And that’s going to be true no matter how old he gets.”
“But, Simon, Darryl is your son. You’re supposed to do stuff like that.”
“Think about that for just a minute, Blair. What makes someone a father? Somebody who’ll take care of you when you’re sick? Jim does that for you all the time. Or maybe someone who’ll cheer you on when you’ve done something great? If I remember correctly, Jim was just about bursting his buttons when you won that TA’s award a few months ago.”
Blair smiled a little at that memory—Jim had nabbed a seat in the first row of the auditorium and had whistled and clapped until Blair had been red with embarrassment.
“And I know Jim always checks to make sure you’re home safely at night. Not because he thinks of you as a kid, but because he cares about you. Am I right?”
Blair nodded again, seeming to mull that over. “So what are you saying, Simon? That Jim’s my surrogate father and therefore has the right to punish me?”
“Of course Jim’s not your father. I’m just pointing out that he loves you and cares for you like one—and also worries about you like one. And what you did today must have scared the hell out of him.” Then I moved in for the kill. “Let me ask you one more question, Blair. After Jim let you up, what did you do? Did you take a swing at him? I know you’re not much of a fighter, but I’ve seen you throw a punch if you feel the need to defend yourself. So, when you finally got your feet back under you, did you punch Jim right in the nose?”
Blair looked shocked at the question. “No, of course not!”
“Why? Because he’s bigger than you?” I quizzed. Then I dropped my voice to a lower tone. “Or was it because, maybe—just maybe—you knew you deserved it?”
Blair’s eyes flashed, and his mouth opened, ready to immediately deny my suggestion. Then he shut it again, and I had the feeling he was unable to find the words he needed. He seemed to be considering the possibility that I might be right; that maybe he had, on some level, accepted the punishment because he knew he’d earned it.
Fortunately for him, he was saved from having to reply by the phone ringing. I glanced at him, and I could tell we were both fairly certain we knew who was calling.
“Banks”, I answered sharply, and then nodded at Blair, confirming his suspicions. Jim apologized profusely for bothering me (guess my gruff image works a little better than I ever knew), but immediately asked if I’d heard from Blair. The sigh of relief I heard when I was able to answer, “Yeah, Jim, he’s here”, made me angry at Blair all over again for walking out.
Jim then pressed for details about how Blair was doing, being deliberately vague. I suppose he was trying to protect Blair’s privacy if his young partner hadn’t chosen to fill me in on the reasons for his sudden departure from the loft and subsequent appearance here. It amazed me to hear my tough-as-nails ex-army Ranger detective practically babbling. When I could finally get a word in edgewise, I barked at him.
“Jim, he’s fine—and I know all about what happened tonight. He and I have had some time to talk, and now I think the best thing for you to do is come over here and pick him up, and then the two of you can get this straightened out.” That stopped his stream of words cold. I could tell that he was trying to gauge my reaction to Blair’s disclosure, but I wasn’t about to discuss it over the phone. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, detective,” I said brusquely, and then hung up, and turned to face my guest.
“Well, I was right about him being worried. Sounded like he’s been over half the city looking for you. Guess I was a last resort—he must have never figured you’d come here,” surprised to discover that I actually felt a little hurt by that realization.
“Great, maybe he’ll be mad enough to spank me again,” Blair said moodily.
“Blair, he was relieved—not angry. Look, when he gets here, talk to him. I know you’re upset about this, but I can see both points of view. He loves you, Blair. In fact, I don’t think I’d be far off saying you’re who he loves best in the world. And when you love someone, you’ll do almost anything to protect them—even from themselves.”
“So you’re saying that it’s okay that Jim hit me?” Blair asked, his tone belligerent.
I sighed in frustration. “He didn’t hit you, Blair, he spanked you. There’s a big difference. And if I know Jim, he probably didn’t even swat you that hard. I bet it was more of an attention-getter than a real punishment.”
“Yeah, well, it still hurts—a little,” Blair replied, rubbing the seat of his jeans for good measure. “And maybe he did only smack my butt, but it’s still hitting,” he finished self-righteously.
I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. “Look, I’m not going to split hairs with you—you’ll have to work this out with Jim. But you’ve worked with the police enough to have some experience with domestic violence. Is that what you think happened tonight? Because if you do, we can always press charges.”
Blair glared at me, horrified. “God, Simon, no! Jim would never really hurt me! He just…punished me,” he finished slowly, as if it was just now dawning on him.
I nodded to him, and then spoke again. “You know, Blair, you complain that Jim treated you like a child tonight. You seem to be conveniently forgetting that there’s an upside to that. Jim is also the first one you go to when you have a problem.”
“He’s my friend, Simon. You’re supposed to be able to turn to your friends with your problems,” he said pointedly.
“Yes, he is Blair,” I replied, ignoring his slight jibe at me, “but he’s more than just a friend. I mean, how many people do you know who are willing to go head to head with a bank manager on a rare afternoon off, just because his ‘friend’ had trouble getting one of his TA checks deposited?”
I continued before he could form any type of answer. “And how many friends take their buddy’s ‘classic’ car to their own mechanic twice a year for inspection, just to make sure it’s running safely? And for that matter, how many friends have you listed as an authorized user on their credit cards, in case of an emergency?” Blair’s silence indicated that I had struck a nerve, but I pressed on. “And how many friends always make an extra stop at the bakery to get the bagels sliced, just so their friend and roommate doesn’t lose half a thumb trying to cut one in the morning?”
Blair’s chin dropped at that—apparently, he wasn’t aware of that little fact. “I thought it was because Jim liked the counter girl,” he muttered. “I didn’t know it was because of me.”
“Yeah, well, he mentioned not long after I met you that you were always cutting yourself trying to fix breakfast after only 2 hours sleep.”
I could see that I’d given the younger man a great deal to think about, but I wanted him to get it straight in his head before his partner arrived. “Still think Jim is ‘just a friend’?”
“Simon, it’s not like that! I mean, I never said that Jim and I aren’t close. We are—as close as brothers most times. But I still don’t like what he did tonight.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” I returned dryly. “I think that’s the whole point.” I was growing weary of debating with my stubborn observer. It was at moments like these that I was glad I only had one son—arguments like these were extremely trying. I decided it was time for a little hardball. Glaring sternly down at the young man in front of me, I growled, “The fact of the matter is, you’re more than willing to reap the benefits of being protected by Jim, but you’re not so sure you want to pay the consequences. Well, as a wise man once told me, ‘you don’t get to have it both ways’.”
His eyes flew up to me, startled that I was throwing back the words he’d used to Jim and I when his friend Sweet Roy was killed, and the evidence had been pointing to Roy’s brother Jamie. He slumped a little, processing all I had said tonight. “So you’re telling me I have to accept the bad with the good, huh?” he said softly.
“Well, I don’t see having some one love you enough to hold you accountable for your actions as being such a bad thing, but like I said, you’ll have to work that out with Jim. And unless I miss my guess, that’s him now.” I had heard the tell-tale signs of Jim’s truck squealing into the driveway. He always drove like he was on the Nascar circuit when he was worried or agitated.
I went to the door, taking pleasure in opening it before he had a chance to knock for a change. Unfortunately, he was too focused to notice. With barely a glance at me, he quickly crossed the room to where his young partner stood, looking very unsure of himself.
“Blair, I’ve been looking all over for you! I heard you leave while I was in the shower, but by the time I got the soap off and threw some clothes on, you were gone!”
“Hello, Jim, nice to see you to,” I interrupted. After all, it was my living room.
That brought him up short. “Uh, hi, Simon. Sorry about bursting in on you” he said, managing to sound sheepish. He turned back to his partner. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Jim”, Blair answered, and then, in response to my subtle cough, he added, “I’m sorry I worried you.” I coughed a little louder, and he shot me a slightly embarrassed look and quickly amended it to, “Both times.”
Jim seemed to understand what Blair was implying, and heaved a sigh of surprised relief. “I didn’t know what to think when you left. I guess we have a lot of talking to do, huh, Chief?”
“Yeah, I guess so, but you know, Simon’s been explaining some things to me, and he’s actually pretty smart—for an old guy”, Blair said impishly.
I tried growling at the kid, but he just grinned back. I never did have much luck intimidating Sandburg. I’ll have to work on that.
Jim looked from one of us to the other, obviously curious about what we’d discussed. Then he tugged on one of Blair’s rain-frizzed curls and pulled the smaller man close to him. “Why don’t we take this discussion back to the loft? We should get out of Simon’s hair and let him salvage at least part of his evening.”
Blair nodded back, looking decidedly comfortable tucked under Jim’s arm. “Thanks for all your help tonight, Simon. Sorry for involving you in all this, but you really cleared some things up for me.”
“You two think you can play nice for the rest of the night?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, Simon,” Jim replied, pulling Blair closer to the door.
“Just a minute, gentleman. Before you go, I have a few things to say,” I said, investing my voice with all the authority my rank gave me. Both men stopped short and looked back at me warily. “First of all, I’ll expect a full report of everything that went down on the Milhouse bust by tomorrow afternoon. It should be detailed, accurate, and signed by both of you. Secondly,” I intoned gravely, my voice dropping even lower, “the next time you two have a problem and need someone to play ‘Dear Abby’…” I paused, giving each of them a steely glance. “…don’t ever hesitate to come to me. Is that clear?” I finished gently.
They shot me twin looks of surprise and then nodded, speechless.
“And one more thing.” I walked over and loomed over the younger member of my best team, satisfied when I saw him gulp and edge further behind his partner, “If I ever hear about you pulling a stunt like you did today again, I’ll personally hand Jim my grandma’s old hairbrush. Do we understand each other?” Blair turned an interesting shade of red, but he managed to squeak out a weak ‘yes’.
“Good night then, gentlemen.”
I watched the two of them leave, and then sighed as I looked regretfully at my abandoned glass of Chardonnay. So much for my quiet evening. I certainly had never anticipated anything like this when I’d opened the door to Blair tonight, but I was glad they had come to me and I hope I’d been able to help. I know the two of them still have a lot to work through, but I also know they’ll get it all sorted out.
THE END