MAKING THE GRADE
by
Carolina Moon and Virginia

 

Disclaimer—These characters don’t belong to us, we’re only having fun with them!

Spoilers—none, but this is a sequel to “Learning the Hard Way”

Category—Discipline, no slash

Feedback—[email protected]
                   [email protected]
 

---

Blair staggered into the loft, juggling several heavy grocery bags. Jim entered right behind him, equally loaded down.

“Man, this is the last time we wait until we’re out of everything to do the grocery shopping. I thought I’d die when the cashier gave us our total—it was higher than some car payments I’ve had!” Blair muttered, dumping the bags on the counter.

“Considering the kinds of cars you drive, Sandburg, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Oh, ha ha, man, very funny. I’ll have you know some of those cars were classics!”

“Classic junk, maybe.”

Blair gave him a scowl and then indicated the groceries spread on the counter.

“How about I get these put away, and you handle the mail and messages, deal?”

“Sure, Chief, just remember to use the stool.”

Blair waved his hand in mock exasperation, but sheepishly pulled out the step stool.
Jim had brought it home a few months ago, after he had come home one day and found his vertically challenged room mate perched precariously on the edge of the counter, trying to reach something from one of the upper shelves.

As his partner got started on organizing the kitchen, Jim sorted through the small pile of mail, tossing the ads into the recycling bin and separating the rest into piles for the two of them. Then he crossed to the answering machine and hit the playback button.

<<<BEEP… Jim, it’s Simon. Just wanted to let you know that the DA is moving up the Calvanetti case to next week sometime, so you’re going to have to be available to testify. He’ll call you with the specifics. See you tomorrow.>>>

<<<BEEP….Mr. Ellison, have you ever considered vinyl siding for your home? It’s amazing the difference you can make in the appearance of an older home. Call now for a free estimate—we’re running a pre-sea….DELETE

<<<BEEP… Hey, Blair, it’s Tony. I finally got  Diana to give me her number, and I told her you might be giving her a call. It’s 478-9548. Let me know how it goes, buddy!>>>

Jim turned to his partner, hand teasingly poised over the delete button. “Ohh, this is good for blackmail, Chief. Maybe I can use this to get out of some testing,” he said with a grin.

Blair scooted around the kitchen counter, curls flying. “Don’t  even joke, man! I’ve been trying to get this girl’s number all semester! She is so hot… truly the stuff dreams are made of! Play it again so I can write it down,” he said, grabbing a pencil.

Jim dutifully replayed the message and then went on to the next one.

<<<BEEP…Blair, this is Dr. Cordair. I’ve been speaking with your other professors and frankly, I’m a little distressed. I thought I had made it plain in our conversation last week that your grades are not where they should be if you intend to remain on the teaching staff. Those incompletes I mentioned must be cleared from your record, but it seems that you haven’t made many efforts in that direction. I’m afraid you’ve left me no other choice but to put a formal letter of reprimand in your teaching file until such time as those grades can be improved. Please call my office for an appointment if you’re having trouble with your schedule. As I said, you’re too good a TA to lose, so I’m sure we can work something out.>>>

As soon as Blair had heard the beginning of the message, he had lunged for the machine, but Jim had blocked his way, fixing him in place with an ice-blue stare. The silence in the loft was deafening once the message ended.

Blair peered at the older man, trying to gauge his reaction. From the steely set of his jaw, he was not happy. Blair laughed nervously.  “That Dr. Cordair—always an alarmist. You get a B+ instead of an A on a test, and he’s got you flunking out.” Jim’s expression didn’t waver.  “C’mon, man. You remember how it was—you coast along for most of the semester, and then pull a couple of all-nighters and everything comes out fine.”

Jim’s face remained stern. “No, Chief, I don’t remember that, but I do distinctly remember you telling me just the other night that you were free to help me at that furniture warehouse stake out. In fact, I believe your exact words were ‘Sure, man, I don’t have anything on the agenda tonight.’ So what’s the deal here, Sandburg?”

Blair ran his hands through his hair in an unconscious nervous gesture. “It’s no big deal. With all the stuff that’s been going on, I’ve just fallen behind on a few things. You know me—I always do my best work at the last minute. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded kind of thing.”

“Well maybe you’ve worked that way up until now, but those days are over.”

“What!  C’mon, Jim.  How I get my school work done is my business.”  Irritation had flushed his cheeks, but it drained with Ellison’s next words.

“Wrong, Chief.  Do you want to know when it became my business?  How about when you moved in here?”  He was winding up into good lecture mode now.  “Or when you took on the job of helping me with my senses.  Or when you signed on at the department as an Observer – with the stipulation you’d be my responsibility.”

Blair tried to argue, but his words were not as forceful this time.  “I’m my own person, Jim, and I can set my own priorities.  On top of that, I’ve never let you down with any of that stuff…”

The words “Have I?” hung in the tense air between them.  Jim answered the unspoken question, his voice not quite as stridently angry as it had been.  “No, Chief, you have never let me down.  You do sometimes have a tendency to act before you think things through, but you’ve only ever given me 100%.”

The grad student again ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it in frustration.  “Then what’s the problem?”

Ellison felt the anger rising again and resisted an urge to shake some sense into his Guide.  “Your grades, Blair, that’s evidently the problem!”  He gestured toward the answering machine.  “How long have you known about this?  What’d Dr. Cordair say, it was last week when he talked to you?”

Sandburg blushed, wanting more than anything to get the attention off of himself and his grades issue.  When Jim Ellison got hold of something, he didn’t let go until he was satisfied.  It was a sure bet that wouldn’t be so easy as it had been with Cordair.  “Late last week, yeah.”

“What day?”

“Jim, I--”

“Blair…”

The warning tone told Blair his Sentinel meant business.  “Tuesday.”

This got him a steady stare, one that made him want to squirm.  Through sheer willpower he remained standing still.

Finally Ellison said, “’Late last week,’ huh?”

Both men maintained an eye-to-eye standoff.  Ellison spoke next, decision resonating in his voice.  “I’ll tell you what really upsets me about this, Sandburg, and then I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to fix it and give you a reminder to be more careful the next time you’re tempted to blow off your priorities.”

The younger man blanched at the promise of a ‘reminder.’  He opened his mouth, but before he could voice his concerns Ellison continued:  “I’m upset that you would sacrifice your grades, first off.  And don’t hand me that ‘B+’ crap, Sandburg.  I remember enough about college to know you don’t get phone calls from the Dean for carrying a B average.”

Blair opened his mouth again, only to have the lecture continued.

“I’m upset that you’ve said you could go with me any number of times when you could’ve said no, that you had school work to do, prime example being the furniture store stakeout – which took place after your meeting with Cordair, I might add.  Your grades will NOT suffer as a result of anything you do for or with me.  Is that understood?”

“But Jim--”

“That was a Yes/No question, Sandburg.”

Blair hesitated only a beat.  “Yes.”

“And don’t even think about lying to me on any of this.  In case you forget, I’m the… what did you call me?”  He paused for effect.  “’Human lie detector.’”

Blair nodded.  Then he had to ask it -- he had to know.  “Jim, that ‘reminder’ you mentioned…  I mean, it’s not, you know… what happened before?”  He was blushing profusely now.

Jim knew exactly what his Guide was referring to, and said, clearly exasperated, “It’s okay to say it, Sandburg.  I gave you a spanking when you disobeyed me and made contact with Davies.  I don't regret it one bit, either.  And yes, I reserved the right to do so again, at any time I feel you need it.  That still stands, Chief, count on it.”

The tension remained between them as Blair waited to learn his fate over the grades issue, practically holding his breath.  Ellison very purposely let the moment draw out, guilt-free, wanting the young man to ponder his possible punishment.  His ‘reminder,’ as Jim had called it.

There was an audible swallow from his Guide.  “So…  Are you going to…?”

Ellison let him squirm a bit longer, cocking his head as if not understanding what Sandburg was asking.

With a resigned sigh, Blair asked, “Jim, are you going to spank me over this?”

“Should I, Chief?”

Blair expelled a sudden breath, realizing that at the moment, he merely wanted a Yes or No and to get it over with – whatever ‘it’ would be.  He looked down at the floor and said, in genuine contrition, “You’re right, Jim, I should’ve spent more time getting my school work done.  I’m just so used to getting things in at the last minute--”

“Chief.”  Ellison used a voice slightly less stern than before, and waited until the younger man looked up to meet his eyes.  “The last minute saves don’t always work.  I don’t operate that way, and I’d really rather you didn’t either.  In fact, as long as you’re working with me in any capacity, you won’t operate that way.  Not even on school work.  Is that clear?”

There was a subdued pause, then, “I don’t guess I really have a choice.”

The detective gave a sigh and shook his head.  It wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for, but it would have to do.  “You always have a choice, Sandburg.  Remember when you did go in and talk to Davies, choosing to do so even after I’d told you not to?  I spanked you for it, because I felt you needed a very real, physical reminder – good, old fashioned discipline that carried a little well-placed pain – in the hopes you would make a better choice the next time you were in a situation like that.  But even then, I gave you a choice – and you chose to receive the spanking.”

“Some choice,” Sandburg groused.  He remembered the incident all too well.  Even now, six weeks after, he could vividly recall those few minutes lying across the older man’s lap, could feel the biting sting of the hairbrush Ellison had wielded as it fell on his bare bottom.  He had gone to the punishment willingly, rather than end his partnership with his friend and Sentinel.  He blushed yet again, sure that his Sentinel could guess where his thoughts were.

Ellison nodded, seeing he’d made the right disciplinary decision back then, making an impression on the younger man that had stayed with him keenly.  “You had two options, Blair, and neither one looked very attractive to you at the time.  Real life is full of those kinds of choices.  But I’m convinced you chose the right one.”

In a resigned voice, positive where the conversation was leading, Sandburg said, “So you’re going to.  Spank me,” he added, wincing as he said the words.

Ellison let his Guide off the hook at that point, shaking his head.  “Not over bad grades, Chief.”

The other man’s relief was unmistakable.  Ellison didn’t let him celebrate for long.  He had been thinking about the situation for the past several minutes, and had come to a decision.
“But I can’t just let it go, either. So we’re going to try something different here, Blair. For the next two weeks, or until I see some proof your grades have come up, you’re grounded.  And I’d better see some major improvement within those two weeks or we’ll revisit this conversation.”

It took a moment for the sentinel’s words to register in Blair’s brain. “Grounded? You’re not serious!!”  The younger man gazed at him in disbelief and outrage.  “Come on, Jim. Even Naomi never grounded me.”

“Well, I don’t think that was necessarily a good thing, Blair. I think sometimes you need to be hauled back when you start veering off track, and it sure sounds as though you’ve been heading way off track for weeks now. So, like I said, for the next two weeks, you can consider yourself on house arrest.”

“Jim! You can’t mean that!”

Ellison spoke calmly, having anticipated resistance when he’d made his decision on disciplinary action.  “Oh I do mean it.  It’s the best way I can see to make you realize you need to take care of matters with your school work.”

The nervous gesture was back, as Blair ran both hands through his brown curls.  “But…  What does that mean, exactly?  What am I grounded from?”

“Well, for starters, just about anything that doesn’t have to do with school. That means dating, movies, poker games. And most importantly, working with me.”

Blair’s eyes flew wide at this last pronouncement. “Jim! Come on! I’ll go along with skipping a few evenings out, but you need me! I’ll take my work with me if I have to, but you can’t be out in the field without me watching your back!”

“Sorry, Sandburg, but this isn’t up for debate. You spend more time at the station than you do at the university and it’s obviously started to cost you. I don’t intend to let that happen, so for the next two weeks—or as long as it takes, your world has narrowed to two places:  the university and home.”

Blair threw his hands up in disgust and started pacing. “Jim, c’mon. Isn’t there room for some compromise here? I’ll make you a deal—I’ll only come with you when you’re out in the field. The paperwork and office stuff you can handle on your own.”

“Who do I look like here, Chief, Monty Hall? There aren’t going to be any ‘deals’, at least for now.  If you can get your grades back to where they should be, I might be willing to back off a little, but not until. And I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

Blair recognized the resolute tone in Jim’s voice, but he could be just as determined, especially when Jim’s safety was at stake.

“Look, Jim, how about we run this by Simon and see what he thinks?,” he said, sure their captain would understand the need for the Sentinel to keep his guide close during assignments.

“Are you sure you want to involve him in this, Sandburg?”  Jim asked, seeming to mull it over. He knew for a fact that Simon would back his position one hundred percent. He could still vividly recall the older man’s rant a few months back when Darryl had let his grades slip after he had made the basketball team. Simon had come down hard on the boy and hadn’t let up until Darryl’s next report card showed marked improvement. Jim had no doubt that the issue of Blair’s grades would promote a similar response. Simon might behave gruffly toward the young observer, but Jim knew that that was merely an act to hide his often paternal feelings for the younger man.

“Yes, Jim, I’m sure. I’d rather keep the whole grounding thing just between us,” he said, flushing lightly, “but if we just tell him we’re having a difference of opinion and ask him to decide for us, I’m sure he will.”

“All right, Chief, I’ll tell you what. What time is your first class tomorrow?”

“Eleven.”

“Good, that gives us plenty of time to talk to Simon. We’ll ask him about this, as long as we both agree to abide by his decision. If he agrees with me, you don’t come to the station again for two weeks. If he agrees with you that I need you to back me up, then you can come with me for stakeouts and field assignments—but that’s all. The rest of the grounding stands.”

Blair wasn’t thrilled with the compromise, but he knew immediately it was the best he was likely to get. And he was positive he could count on Simon’s response. The older man hadn’t exactly welcomed Blair with open arms, but after several cases, even he had seemed to accept the fact that Jim needed him.  “All right, Jim. That sounds fair.”

That matter resolved, at least for the time being, the two men fixed a simple meal. Once the dishes were done, Blair flopped on the sofa and picked up the remote. He was startled a moment later when it was snatched from his hand.

“Hey, no fair! I had it first, and that means I get to choose! You know the rules—he who controls the remote rules the world!” Blair said with an evil cackle.

“No, Sandburg, I think it’s you who’s forgetting the rules. When I said you were grounded, that meant no loafing around when there’s homework to be done.  And since it sounds like you have a lot of catching up to do, I suggest you get to it.”

Blair stared at him, his mouth moving wordlessly, trying to think of some protest. Jim returned his stare impassively, arms crossed. Once again realizing that arguing would be futile, Blair stomped over and retrieved his back pack from its hook near the door. Giving Jim a baleful glare, he retreated to his room, slamming the glass doors behind him.

Jim just shook his head at the theatrics, and settled down for a peaceful evening in front of the TV.

Blair was uncharacteristically quiet the next morning, but Jim didn’t push it. He knew the younger man had to be chafing under the new restrictions and he was willing to cut him some slack. They finished their breakfast in near silence.

“Ready to go, Chief?” Jim asked as he holstered his weapon and grabbed his badge a few minutes later.

“Yeah, just a sec. Let me get my notes for my Anthro lecture this afternoon,” Blair answered grumpily.

They made it to the station with a minimum of conversation. When they reached Major Crimes, they were pleased to see Simon in his office alone.

“Might as well get this over with, Chief. Are you still sure you want to ask Simon about this?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Blair said, and then continued in a soft mutter, knowing full well that Jim could hear him. “Maybe not everyone here thinks I’m an irresponsible kid.”

He walked with Jim over to Simon’s office and followed him when the captain waved them in.

“Hey, Blair, Jim. What’s up? Coffee?” he asked, indicating his ever hot pot.

“No thanks,” both men said simultaneously and Blair breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the captain seemed to be in a jovial mood.

“We have a bit of a dilemma, Simon, and we were hoping you might be able to help us work it out,” Jim said, coming right to the point.

Simon sat back down at his desk and looked back and forth between the two members of his best team. “A problem, Jim? Sure. Have a seat, guys and I’ll help if I can. What’s this all about?”

Both men sat down and then Jim looked at Blair, waiting for him to start.

Blair took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and cool, wanting to impress the captain with his maturity.

“Jim thinks that my duties as his guide are interfering with my responsibilities at the university and he wants me to stop working with him,” he said as succinctly as possible.

Simon blinked at the sentence and then turned to Jim. “Is this true? You really want the kid to stop being your ‘guide’, as he calls it?” he said, unable to mask his surprise.

“No, Simon, I don’t want him to stop completely. But his grades have suffered and I want him to back off  for a while until they’re back where they should be.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What do mean, suffered?” he asked sternly, turning back to Blair.

Blair was unable to stop the squirm that the captain’s look provoked. “I’m behind on a few assignments,” he admitted reluctantly.

“It’s more than that, Blair. Your advisor made it sound as though you might lose your TA position if you don’t get caught up,” Jim corrected.

“Is this true, Blair?” Simon asked quietly.

“I tried to tell Jim that Dr. Cordair—that’s my advisor—is just an alarmist. They wouldn’t really pull me from teaching!” Blair rushed to reassure him, but he didn’t seem convinced. So far, this conversation had not gone as well as he’d hoped. “I told Jim that I’d work harder to get things finished, but Simon, I need to be with Jim when he’s out in the field—you know that!”

“Blair, you already work harder than anybody I know. Like it or not, there are only 24 hours in a day, no matter how you juggle them. And if I know you, when you say you’ll work harder, that just means you’ll give up such non-essentials as sleeping and eating,” Simon said, and Jim nodded his agreement.

Blair ran his hands through his hair, hoping to find the right words to sway the captain to his side. “Look, I can handle this. And like I said, Jim needs me. A zone out at a crucial time could leave him at some creep’s mercy.”

Simon pursed his lips, carefully weighing the two sides of the issue. A thought occurred to him and he leaned forward on the desk. “Blair, if I remember correctly, you had midterms just few weeks ago. How’d you do?”

Blair froze, his heart plunging. With all the discussion last night, this was the one question that Jim had thankfully neglected to ask. “How’d I do, Simon?” he asked, pretending to be puzzled by the question.

“Yes, Blair,” said Simon a trifle impatiently. “What grade did you get on your tests?”

Blair shot Jim a look, wishing there was some way to lie his way out of this one without the Sentinel detecting it. One look at Jim’s face killed any hope of that. The older man was studying him intently.

“Simon,” he began, hoping to delay the inevitable, “in advanced courses, tests are only a small part of your grade. There are lots of other components to consider. I mean, there are projects, assignments…”

As the parent of a teenager, Simon knew a stall tactic when he heard one. “Answer the question, Blair,” he cut in.

“Yes, please do,” Jim said sweetly, predicting from his guide’s discomfiture that the answer would not make him happy.

Blair stared at his shoes, wishing now that he had never suggested involving Simon.  “A C- and a D,” he finally muttered into his chest.

Simon couldn’t make out the words, but Jim could and he flew out of his chair.

“A C- and a D?? Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what grades like that can do to your average?” Blair shrank back in his chair.

Simon’s face reflected his shock when he heard the grades repeated in Jim’s bellow.
“Jim, would you excuse us for a moment. I’d like to speak to Blair privately, ” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

Blair felt a moment’s relief that the captain was going to protect him from the wrath of one very pissed-off Sentinel, but the look on Simon’s face was anything but reassuring.

Jim gave Blair a look which indicated that this particular discussion was far from over, but he obeyed the captain and quietly left the room.

Once Jim was gone, Simon turned back to the hapless young man in front of him. Blair opened his mouth to defend himself, but Simon held up a finger in warning.

“No, Blair—don’t talk. Just listen. I don’t know what kind of average you were carrying at the university before you became an observer, but from what Jim has indicated, it had to have been pretty high. I will not allow you to throw that—and possibly your future, away just to tag along after Jim.”

“Simon, I do more than ‘tag along’,” Blair replied, hurt.

Simon softened slightly. “I know you do, Sandburg, but the fact remains that according to Jim, your grades have slipped—seriously. Your first priority should be your school work, and from what I’ve heard here today, that’s not the case.”  He held up a hand to halt Blair’s protest. “I realize that I must take part of the blame—we’ve come to rely on your ‘unique’ perspective so much that I’m afraid I’ve allowed the department to put too many demands on your already stretched time. But that ends right now. I have to agree with Jim on this one—until your grades are back in line, I’m forbidding you access to this department.”  He held his hand out. “I’ll need your observer credentials.”

Blair’s chin dropped, shocked at how badly he could have misjudged the situation. “Simon,” he pleaded, even as he was removing the treasured badge. “Jim needs me. What if he zones?”

Simon felt a twinge of pity for Blair’s obvious concern for his friend, but he refused to be swayed. “I’ll make sure Jim has plenty of back up for any potentially threatening situation. And if anything seems really risky, I’ll go along myself. I realize I don’t know everything about this ‘guiding’ stuff, but I’ve watched you pull him out a few times and I think I can handle it.”

Blair looked unconvinced—and absolutely miserable. “Simon, please!” he whispered.

Simon almost wavered when he saw tears sparkling in Blair’s eyes, but he sternly reminded himself that it was for the younger man’s own good. “I’m sorry, Blair,” he said firmly. He held up the chain holding Blair’s ID. “You’ll get this back when I have some proof that your grades have come up.

Ellison looked up when Blair finally emerged from Banks’ office.  The younger man yanked his backpack up from beside Ellison’s desk to leave.

“C’mon Chief, I’ll take you home.”

Blair's reply came out more snarled than he intended.  “No thanks.  I’ll take the bus.”  He left the bull pen without a backward look.  In truth, he didn’t trust himself to face either Jim or Simon without disgracing himself by crying; it was better just to leave now, go to his office at the U. and sort through things like his feelings, his life for the coming two weeks…

He got to the bus stop on the corner and for once, timing was on his side as a bus bound for the University area pulled up.  Within minutes he was on his way to Rainier University and could safely review the mess his life had become over the past twenty-four hours.

No, he told himself sternly.  It went back further than that.  It went back to when he’d first let things slip the previous semester, by putting off an assignment here, a research task there.  Before he knew it, things had snowballed on him to the point that they would not be fixed easily or quickly.  Too much had stacked up on him, the obligations seeming to multiply on their own.

He sighed mournfully and stared out the bus window as the vehicle lurched away from the curb, having made its last stop before reaching the campus.  He had nobody to thank but himself.  It wasn’t Jim Ellison’s fault, nor was it Simon Banks’ – he was to blame for losing his observer’s pass and the privilege that went with it.  He told himself that the other two men were only looking out for him, that they had his best interests at heart…  And that had to mean they truly cared for him.  His rationalization however didn’t erase the sting of being shut out, even if it was just for a two-week period.

Blair spent the last ten minutes of the ride waging an internal war.  His emotions bounced between outrage at being grounded, like a teenager disciplined by his father, and contrition over the fact that he had created the dilemma and sealed his own fate by insisting Simon be dragged into it.  With another theatrical sigh, he climbed off the Metro bus and trudged to Hargrove Hall.

**

Jim Ellison forced himself to concentrate on the stack of reports he needed to complete before he even thought about leaving for the day.  His focus wavered and his thoughts went back to his Guide.  He hadn't listened in on Blair's and Simon's conversation, feeling he owed his young friend at least that much respect.  He did know without a doubt however that Simon had backed Ellison on the grades issue -- which meant Blair wouldn't be seen around the precinct for the next two weeks.

He must have really been more preoccupied than he’d realized.  He jumped when Simon spoke next to him.

“It was for his own good, Jim, you know that.”

The Sentinel nodded.  “I do know, Simon, or it wouldn’t even have been an issue in the first place.  I just can’t let his University work suffer because of me.  I can’t allow that.”

The police captain held up his hands.  “You don’t have to convince me, Jim.  Remember?  I not only took your side in there,” he nodded toward his office door, “I confiscated his Observer credentials until he can bring in proof his grades have come up.”

“I thought maybe that had happened,” Ellison sighed.

“Don’t think I enjoyed it.  I thought for a minute there the kid would break down in tears.  I almost gave in – almost.”

“Yeah, he took off when he left your office, wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“And you think that’ll last?”  Banks teased, and was glad to see the detective smile.  He didn’t want half of his best team moping around for the next few weeks.  “Come on, Jim, he’ll be all right.  He’s a great kid; he just sometimes needs some firm direction.  I don’t think he ever got that in his life before he met you.”

“Well, not enough of it anyway.  Simon, he does the wrong things at times, but for the right reasons – at least to him they seem perfectly right.  Does that make sense?”

Banks grasped his shoulder.  “I have a teenage son, and you’re asking me if I understand mis-placed motives?”  He shook his head with a laugh.  “No, I don’t understand how their minds work, but I can’t help but see that to them, what they do makes perfect sense.”

“Simon, Blair is not 14…  No offense, but he’s almost twice Darryl’s age.”

“None taken.  In some respects it’s an unfair comparison.  You’re right – he’s twice the age chronologically.  But you have to admit, some of the situations Sandburg gets himself into, and the times when he acts before he thinks things through…”

“I know.  For somebody with his brains, he sure needs his ass kicked every once in a while to get him back in line.”

“And today, I think we both effectively kicked it.  I know it hurt his feelings, handing in his pass and being told to stay away, even if it’s for just a couple of weeks.  But dammit, I don’t know how else to get through to him.  I have to admit I already miss the annoying little guy, which you are not at liberty to repeat to anyone.”  His warning glare got a knowing grin from his detective.  Banks added, sincerely, “I do hope he follows through, and gets things straightened out with his school work.”

“Oh he will, Sir.  You can count on it.”

“With his Blessed Protector standing guard the entire time?  How could I ever doubt?”

Banks moved on with a chuckle.  Jim felt better, the talk with Simon having put matters into perspective.  The police captain was right:  a couple of weeks wouldn’t kill the younger man.  Quite the contrary, since the grounding would keep Sandburg in the dull but safe world of academics for a while.  Ellison would stand firm until the grades issue was resolved, then make sure he kept an eye on Blair’s school progress – until he earned his degree, if necessary.

**

Blair found that some time in his office was exactly what he’d needed.  The reassuring surroundings helped soothe his wounded pride and feelings.  Already, in only two hours’ time, he had accomplished more on both his teaching duties and assignments for his own classes than he had in weeks.  He felt a pang of guilt at the realization.  He had neglected his University responsibilities – all of them, barely keeping up with grading his students’ papers, though he had managed to keep on top of that.  It was small consolation.

He felt a renewed commitment to making things right.  The certainty that Jim Ellison would accept nothing less had little to do with it, surprisingly.  He knew his Sentinel was serious about the punishment he had decreed – Blair Sandburg could count on being a home-body except for when he was on campus, until he showed improved grades.  But it was more than that.  More than anything, Blair wanted the older man’s approval.  He may not like all of Ellison’s hard-ass ways and methods, but he would accept them if it meant staying in the Sentinel’s good graces.

The phone rang and startled him from his deep thoughts.  “Hello?”

A throaty female voice answered.  “Is this Blair?”

“Yes, this is Blair Sandburg.  What can I do for you?”

“This is Diana, from Professor Jansen’s class?”

“Diana!  Yes, hi!”  He cringed at his less-than-stellar conversational skills.

She laughed, sure in her ability to captivate.  “I’m usually not this forward with men, you have to believe me…”  She didn’t particularly sound as if she was too worried about her reputation.  The smile in her voice and Blair’s memory of her body had him nearly panting into the phone.  “But I got hold of your number and, well, I thought I’d call and ask you out on a date.  Are you thoroughly shocked?”

“Uh--  Yes, I mean no!  I’m really pleased to hear from you.”  He smacked himself on the forehead.  He couldn’t seem to keep the message “Geek” from shining through.

She laughed again, totally delighted with his discomfiture.  “Well I’ll take that as a Maybe.  Listen, I’m calling about Friday night.  I have a chance for tickets to the Barenaked Ladies concert at the Arena.  Tony mentioned you might get in touch with me, but these tickets are hot, Blair.  I knew you’d understand if I didn’t wait.”

“Of course.  I know you’re hot – They!  The tickets are hot…”

“I think we’re going to get along just fine, Blair Sandburg.  I take it your answer is a Yes?”

“I’d love to.  What time should I pick you up?”

The minute the words were out of his mouth he realized that his blood must still be somewhere south of his brain.  Friday night! There was no way he could go out with her on Friday night—not after Mr. High and Mighty Ellison’s decree. In an instant, all his reasonable understanding of the situation flew right out the window. He was right back to resenting the older man’s high handedness.

Diana had no idea that her words had produced such a tumultuous reaction. “Why don’t we say 7:00, Blair. I have an apartment on Beuamont St. Do you want to jot the address down now?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that’d be great,” he muttered, distracted now. <<This woman is going to think I’m a total loser!>> He quickly copied the address.

“All right, Blair,” she  purred. “I’ll see you Friday at 7:00.”

“See you Friday,” he responded weakly. “And thanks for calling,” he added with more enthusiasm.

He hung up and let his head drop onto his desk. Now what was he going to do?
As far as he could see, he had three choices: he could tell Diana they couldn’t go out Friday because he was grounded, he could ask Jim to give him a temporary parole on his sentence for the concert, or he could simply pray for the world to end by the end of the week.

Option one was definitely out. He could just imagine Diana’s face if he called her back and told her that he couldn’t go out with her because his roommate had grounded him. Yeah, that would cement his ‘geek’ status forever. He’d be the laughing stock of the campus in days. Option two was no better. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jim would not be willing to give him a reprieve for this, even if he begged. And option three was just too much of a long shot to be considered. He shook his head ruefully: just like Jim said, life seemed to be full of unpleasant choices.

He sat mulling over the problem when a tiny little voice in his head spoke up.
<<Just lie to Jim and go out anyway.>>

Blair recognized the voice. It was the same one that had whispered in his ear when he had gotten into the middle of the hostage situation with Professor Davies. And the one that beckoned him to leave the safety of the truck every time his Sentinel ordered him to stay behind. No doubt about it, that voice was nothing but trouble. But it did offer a way out of the dilemma, and that was what Blair sorely needed at the moment.

Of course, lying to a Sentinel was difficult for anyone, but especially for Blair. Jim was constantly monitoring him, and Blair was always annoyed at how embarrassingly easy it was for him to tell when his guide was being less than completely forthcoming.

He shook his head, frustrated at the problem. Finally he decided to put the whole mess out of his mind for the time being. He left his office for his 11:00 class, sure that the answer would materialize.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully, but slowly. Blair discovered that without the constant juggling of schedules, he had ample time for all his schoolwork, but he was finding it increasingly tedious. He knew he’d always be an academic at heart, but he couldn’t deny that he missed the adrenaline rush of working with Jim. Surprisingly, he also found how much he missed the casual camaraderie of the gang in the Major Crimes bull pen. He wondered if any of them had asked about him, and if they did, how Jim had explained his absence. He knew the older man wouldn’t embarrass him by telling them of their new arrangement, but they had to be curious about what was keeping Blair from the station.

As the end of the week grew closer, Blair’s mind kept returning to the problem of how he would manage to get out on Friday night. He had hoped that after a few days of showing his Sentinel that he could buckle down and get to work, Jim might ease off a little on his restriction, but unfortunately, the opposite seemed to be the case. Jim seemed pleased and even a trifle smug that Blair was home at night when he arrived, dutifully reading or preparing for his next class.

On Wednesday, he decided to test the waters a little. When Jim came home that night, Blair had dinner ready and all his preparations made for his classes the next day. After the meal, he casually approached the older man as he sat channel surfing on the sofa.

“Uh, Jim, a bunch of people from my Ancient Languages class are going over to the Norburt Theater for a Fellini movie retrospective tonight. I thought since I have all my work caught up for tomorrow, I’d head over there with them.”  He winced inwardly at how tentative his voice sounded.

“Sorry, Chief,” Jim answered, never taking his eyes off the screen, “you thought wrong. Two weeks is two weeks, and you’ve got a ways to go.”

Blair had been expecting the response, but it still angered him. “GOD, Jim, you are being such a hard ass about this. I’ve worked my butt off for the last three days; don’t you think I deserve a little break?” he exploded.

Jim shut the TV off and stood, turning to face his guide. Blair took an unconscious step backwards, but the older man merely folded his arms and stared down at him.

“I seriously doubt if three days of playing catch up was enough to erase the effects of blowing off most of your responsibilities for the semester, but even if it was, the fact remains that I grounded you for two weeks, and two weeks it’s going to be. I’m sure you can find something else that needs your attention this evening, so I suggest you get to it.”

“And if I don’t?”, Blair asked dangerously, throwing caution and good sense out the window.

“Then I expect you won’t like the results,” Jim returned in his infuriatingly calm voice, dropping back on the sofa and clicking the TV on again.

Blair stood and glared at him, his fists clenching and un-clenching in anger. Then, without another word, he stalked off toward his room.

Blair stayed in his room the rest of the evening, fuming at Jim and his damned determination.  He slammed books and muttered under his breath for the benefit of Sentinel ears, generally making his temper known.  None of it got a peep out of Ellison, who finally gave up on TV and went upstairs to bed before 11p.m.

Things were no better the following morning.  In fact, Ellison was so cheerful and acting as if all was right with his world, Blair wanted to throw things all over again – this time in front of the Sentinel.  He restrained himself and settled for sulking; hiding in his room while he pitched a fit was one thing, but he felt pretty sure Jim Ellison wouldn’t tolerate such an open temper tantrum.

Blair could feel the observant, light-blue eyes occasionally cast his way as he finished his cereal, never having said Word One since he sat down at the table.  The detective’s voice showed no sign of acknowledging his Guide’s emotional state.  “So what’s on the agenda today, Chief?”

The younger man shot him deep-blue lasers of anger.  “What do you think?  More of the same as yesterday.”

When this got no rise out of Ellison, he added grudgingly, “I’ll be at the U. all afternoon.  I need to finish up the research for one of my Incompletes.”

The approving nod he received was maddening.  The Sentinel then looked up from his breakfast in more seriousness.  “Oh, Blair, about this weekend…”

The stern tone and frown sent Sandburg’s heart into his throat.  “Yes?”  He squawked it.  Good God, he thought, he might as well just spill his guts about the concert and Diana, if the Sentinel was onto him.  Maybe Jim already knew, and the boom was about to drop.

“Yeah, Simon put me on a new case late yesterday and there’s a good chance it’ll mean some all-night stakeouts.  Now I know what you’re going to say--”

“Really?  That’s great!  I mean--  By yourself?  Without me?  Because if I’m still grounded….”

The older man frowned at him, obviously confused by Blair’s lightning-fast mood changes.  “You’re right.  You’re still on restriction, and that’s not about to change.  I’ll be fine; I think the stakeout's going to amount to nothing, but it’s got to be done.”  He sighed, his thoughts taking him away from the stakeout.  “I know it might seem unfair, Chief, but short of a global disaster, I’m not willing to back off on this.  I really think you need more stability in your life, Blair.  You needed it a long time ago, but better late than never.”

Blair was elated at his partner’s news that he would most likely be out of the loft on Friday night, but he hid it well, knowing that Jim would expect him to vehemently protest being left out of something as potentially dangerous as a stake-out. Anything less would raise the older man’s suspicions.

“Jim, come on! A stake out is exactly the type of situation where you need me most! You’ll be concentrating your senses without anything around to distract you,” Blair insisted. He really didn’t need to obfuscate to make the complaint sound good. Date or not, he didn’t like the idea of Jim being out there without him to watch his back. He really didn’t expect Jim to back down but if, by some miracle, he *did* relent and let Blair accompany him, Blair would simply have to break his date with Diana. Gorgeous or not, his responsibility to his Sentinel came first

“Simon’s already planning to come with me, so save your breath,” Jim said, holding up one hand to forestall further protest. “You just worry about taking care of what you need to. The sooner you do that, the sooner you can be back with me where you belong.”

Blair hadn’t really expected him to acquiesce, but he still frowned.  “If I can get caught up in less than two weeks, does that mean you’ll shorten my restriction?” he asked hopefully.

Jim almost laughed at his partner—always trying to work the system. “Nope, sorry, Chief, but even if you somehow do manage to get everything caught up, your wings are going to remain clipped for the full two weeks. A little discipline is exactly what your life has been lacking. And like I said, better late than never.”

Blair scowled, but he knew there’d be nothing to gain in pressing the matter further. The older man’s attitude left him feeling almost justified in his plans to keep his date with Diana. Jim had no right to treat him like this, he told himself.

They left the loft a short time later, and Blair worked all day at the library, pleased with himself when he was able to wipe out another Incomplete. His professors were happy with him and even Dr. Cordair had called him at his office to express his relief that Blair had finally begun to take the matter of his grades seriously. Diana also called him back to confirm their plans for Friday, and Blair left his office whistling. Sometimes life was good!

When he got home that evening, the message light was blinking, so he hit play while he hung up his coat.

<<Hey, Chief, it’s me. Just wanted to remind you that I’ll be working late tonight. Make sure you remember to grab some dinner. I’ll try to touch base later if I can—and I expect you to be there, Sandburg. Talk to you later.>>

Blair shook his head as he deleted the message. Even over the phone, Jim could nag with the best of them. But even the older man’s fussing couldn’t dampen his good mood, so he threw together a quick salad and settled down with a book for the evening. The phone rang shortly after 10, waking him from the light doze he had slipped into.

“’Lo?” he murmured sleepily.

“Caught you napping, huh, Chief?” came Jim’s teasing tone. “Just wanted to tell you I probably won’t be in until after 2:00 tonight, so do me a favor and keep it quiet in the morning, OK? Unless we get incredibly lucky and this guy shows tonight, I’ll have to be back here tomorrow night by 6:00 and I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, sure, Jim.  I have office hours tomorrow, so you’ll have the place to yourself all morning,”  Blair replied, grinning to himself at how perfectly things were working out for him.
 He sternly reminded himself to concentrate on the matters at hand. “Hey, how are your senses doing? No zone-outs?”

“Nah, Chief, everything is fine. Boring, but fine.”

“Well, if you had me along, you wouldn’t be bored, you know,” Blair replied, but his tone was more teasing than petulant.

“No, that’s one thing I can definitely agree with you on—you’re never boring. Stubborn, long-winded, hyperactive……but not boring.”

“Gee, thanks,” Blair said sarcastically. “Just for that, I hope Simon smokes a dozen cigars tonight.”

“Low blow, Chief,” Jim said with a laugh, pleased that Blair seemed to be over his snit from earlier. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning—or whenever I wake up tomorrow.”

“’Night, Jim,” Blair said, hanging up. He took his Sentinel’s advice and decided to crash early. He never heard the older man come in, but he remembered to tread quietly through the loft the next morning as he got ready for work. Jim finally woke a little before noon, just as Blair was returning from the university.

“Hey Sandburg, wanna grab some breakfast—or maybe I should say lunch?” he asked as he came down the stairs. “We also need a few things at the market again, and we could pick them up on the way back.”

“Sounds good, man. As long as we can pick a place that does more than bacon and eggs.”

“Cholesterol is one of the building blocks of life, Chief. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” Jim teased.

They settled on a small café near the loft and ate a companionable breakfast. Jim filled him in on the things that had been going on at the station in his absence, and Blair, for his part, was able to report that he was back in Dr. Cordair’s good graces. As they finished up a last cup of coffee before tackling the supermarket, Jim looked thoughtfully over at the younger man.

“Chief,” he began hesitantly, “I want you to know how proud I am of you for buckling down this last week and getting your school work done. I know it hasn’t been easy on you. You’ve led a pretty independent life, and I can imagine it must be difficult for you to accept living under someone else’s rules.”

Blair squirmed at the older man’s words. They were making him feel guilty about his plans for later that night, and guilt was exactly what he didn’t need. He wanted to feel self-righteous instead.

Jim picked up on his fidgeting, and misinterpreted it for embarrassment that they were talking about his restriction in such a public place. He deliberately lowered his voice.
“Simon and I wouldn’t have taken such a strong stand about this if we didn’t care about you, buddy. Please don’t think we’re ganging up on you. I’m sure you’re probably sick of hearing this, but we only want what’s best for you.”

Blair stared into his coffee mug. “I know, Jim,” he said softly. Instead of making him feel better, the Sentinel’s kind words were making him feel even worse. He felt hot tears prick the back of his eyes and bit the inside of his lip, willing them away. Jim noticed the sudden rush of emotion and decided to break the tense moment.

“C’mon, Sandburg,” he said, grabbing the check and a twenty from his wallet. “Those groceries won’t buy themselves. Let’s hit the market and then I’m going to grab a book and head up to the roof for a while. It’s not often we get a day this warm so early in the spring, and I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Sounds good, Jim,” Blair replied, relieved to be off the potentially troublesome topic.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. As the evening grew closer, Blair became more and more nervous about his plans to see Diana. Jim had come down off the roof, sweaty and slightly sunburned and grabbed a shower before leaving to meet Simon. As he gathered his things for the boring night ahead, the older man looked over at Blair, surrounded by papers and books at the dining room table.

“Whatcha working on Chief?” he asked as he grabbed his keys.

“I’m making up an end-of-chapter quiz for my Anthro 101 students. Should make for a fun Friday night,” Blair replied in a sarcastic tone, trying to cover up any nervousness that might show in his voice.

Jim nodded approvingly. Though Blair didn’t seem happy about his plans, he wasn’t openly protesting either.

“One dateless Friday night isn’t going to ruin the great Sandburg reputation, Chief. Even the world’s greatest lovers had to take a day off here and there,” Jim chuckled.

Blair still didn’t trust his voice not to give him away, so he settled for glaring at Jim.
Jim just shook his head and walked to the door. “I’ll be late again tonight, but if all goes as planned, I won’t have to go back to work ‘til Sunday afternoon. How about we see if we can get tickets to the Mariners game tomorrow afternoon, my treat? The way they’ve been playing, they should still have some good seats left. Maybe it will help if we’re there in person to cheer them on.”

“I thought I was still grounded,” Blair remarked with a trace of bitterness.

“I told you earlier, I’m proud of you, Chief. I think you deserve a little break.” He opened the door. “See you in the morning. Don’t work too hard.”

As soon as he had gone, Blair dropped his head on the table, feeling miserable. Not only had he lied to Jim, but now he was being rewarded for it. He tried to cheer himself up by picturing Diana in all her splendor, but that almost made him feel worse. He made an effort to shake off his mood and then got up from the table to get ready for his date.

His shower and usual pre-date rituals helped calm his mind, and by the time he left to pick Diana up an hour later, he was looking forward to the evening ahead. He found her apartment with no trouble, and once she opened the door, any trace of remaining guilt vanished. No doubt about it, the woman was drop dead gorgeous.

“Hi, Blair,” she murmured throatily. “Just let me finish putting myself together and we can go. Make yourself at home.”

Blair managed to respond without his voice cracking and then allowed himself the pleasure of watching her walk down the hall toward the back. While she finished getting ready, he busied himself studying the books on her shelf. Not much to challenge the intellect—Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steele, some Grisham; but he reminded himself that man did not live by books alone.

Once she returned, Blair re-discovered his voice, and soon his normal talkative nature returned. Though they only shared one class, they had several acquaintances in common, and the conversation flowed comfortably.

The concert was fun but loud, and afterwards they decided to stop for coffee so they could talk more easily. On the way to the restaurant, Blair snuck a peek at his watch and was relieved to see it was only a little after eleven. With any luck, Jim wouldn’t be home for a few more hours.

They settled into a booth and ordered. Once the waitress left, Diana looked up at him with an almost predatory gleam in her eye.

“So tell me, Blair,” she murmured as she stirred her coffee, “what exactly fills your days?  I know you’re a teaching fellow in Anthropology, but surely there’s more to you than that.” The way she said it made Blair a little uncomfortable—like she was looking for something more than he could offer in the way of excitement. Deciding that a tiny bit of obfuscation couldn’t hurt at this stage of the game, he began telling her of his exploits with the Cascade PD, embellishing on his role in several cases as Jim’s partner. While he stopped short of actually telling her he was a full fledged cop, he did manage to make his position seem a little more official than it truly was.

Diana seemed duly impressed. “It must be so exciting to be working with a real detective. I’ve even read about some of the cases you mentioned.” She gave him a wide smile. “I just knew that anyone as cute as you had to be interested in more than just anthropology.”

The dismissive way she said the word showed her disdain for the field, and Blair couldn’t help feeling somewhat insulted. He did love working with Jim, but he was an anthropologist, first and foremost. But then she smiled even wider, and he found himself grinning back, lost in the promise of her eyes.

By the end of their first cup of coffee, Blair had re-created himself into a daring, sought-after consultant to the brightest of the Cascade PD.  Into their second cup, she was hanging on his every word and practically purring.  If she leaned any further across the table, he was sure she was going to spill right out of her low-cut sweater.

When he pulled his Corvair up to the curb at her address and she suggested coming upstairs for a nightcap, it was a real battle of will for him to decline the offer.
Her luscious mouth pouted her disappointment.  “Are you sure, Blair?”
His eyes went to that neckline as she leaned over toward him, but some still-rational part of his brain showed him a mental image of a clock ticking down to the zero-hour—and Ellison’s return to the loft.  He swallowed hard.  “Um, I’m afraid so.  You see, Jim has a stakeout and—“

“And you’re a part of it!”  Her eyes lit up delightedly.  “Oh how exciting, Blair.  Are you headed there right now?  Is it dangerous?”

“Well, um, as a matter of fact it IS underway as we speak, and I…”

Those full red lips stopped him mid-sentence.  When she finally pulled away, she said in a low and throaty voice, “You have no idea how much that turns me on—not that I want you in any danger, of course!  But my goodness, not even Sven’s stories about being a bouncer at the Rainbow Club turned me on this much!”

His fogged brain recognized the name, vaguely.  “Sven…”

“Mm hm.  You remember him, big blonde guy from our class.  We dated all last semester.”

“Oh.  Yeah, him.”  A bouncer, no wonder, Blair thought.  Sven was blonde, appealing to all the women on campus, and built like a cross between a Mack truck and a champion bodybuilder.  “You two were… dating?”

She smiled.  “Yeah.  We um… dated quite a bit.”  She was practically in his lap now.  “But now I’m interested in dating you.”

She kissed him goodbye.  “Call me after your stakeout?”

“Sure.”

He watched her walk up to the front door and disappear with a last wave to him.  He willed his heartrate to slow down; the only action he was going to see that night was going to be of his own making.  With that depressing thought, he drove off and headed for the loft.

If only this night had happened a week earlier!  He found himself recovering some of the self-righteousness he’d lost earlier in the day with Jim.  He hit the steering wheel in a sudden flare of anger.  “Man!  He has no right…  Just who does he think he is, anyway?  Macho, hard-ass cop…”

The angry tirade continued until he turned the corner onto Prospect.  All of his indignation evaporated as he looked for a parking space and prayed that no Ford truck meant no Jim Ellison in the loft, waiting for him.

His luck held out, but only by a thread.  He had no sooner undressed and slipped beneath the sheets than he heard a key turn in the front door lock.  He glanced at the time glowing red on his alarm clock:  12:30AM.

Of course, his Sentinel could tell he was awake.  The older man flipped on a light in the kitchen and moments later called from near his bedroom door, “Hey, Chief, why aren’t you asleep?”

Blair rolled over and sighed.  “Can’t get my brain to shut down, Jim.  I guess I crammed too much in it today.”  His brain was not where he wanted to be cramming something right about now, he thought despondently.

The Sentinel chuckled.  “Sounds like you were hard at it, then.  Have any luck?”

<<Luck?!>>  Blair tried to banish images of an unclothed Diana and thought fast.  “Uh—yeah, as a matter of fact, I came across some articles that are going to help me clear up my last Incomplete.  Some days are just great that way, in the world of academic research.”

“Yeah, sounds thrilling, Sandburg.  I’m heading up to bed—I’m beat.”

“Okay.  Have any luck tonight, yourself?”

“Nah, just as I had figured—it was a long, boring night of nothing.  But, as Simon said when we parted company, ‘there’s always another night.’  See you in the morning, Chief.”

“Goodnight, Jim.”

**

It was somehow easier to maintain the lie the following morning.  Maybe it was due to having had a few hours of sound sleep, or maybe just the thrill of having succeeded in fooling his Sentinel while having his own way….  Normally he would not have been pleased with himself for misleading his friend and partner, but the mental picture of Diana leaning across the diner table toward him somehow balanced out the equation.

The two men enjoyed a pot of coffee over the morning paper until noon.  Jim put his cup down and stood up.  “Think I’ll hit the shower and then see what I can do about tickets to that Mariner’s game.”

Blair had forgotten all about that.  He looked back down at his newspaper and felt himself blush, as Jim’s kind words from the day before came back to him.  “Oh, yeah.  The game.  That would be really nice, Jim, but you don’t have to go out of your way on my account.  I’ve got plenty of work still to do today.”

Mistaking the younger man’s reaction, Ellison reached down and ruffled his hair affectionately.  “I know, but I feel like doing it.  You deserve a break, Chief.”

Ten minutes later Blair heard the shower turn on and buried his face in his hands.  “Oh, man.  These ups and downs are getting old.  What could possibly happen next?”

The phone rang as if on cue.  With a sense of foreboding he picked it up and answered.

The female voice on the other end of the line was filled with anguish and fear.  “Oh, Blair—I didn’t know who else to call!  Oh, my God, Blair—he really scares me!”

“Diana?  Hold on, just a second.”  He glanced back at the closed bathroom door and went out onto the balcony, quietly closing the glass door behind him.

“Now, what’s wrong?”

“I got up this morning and found a note pushed under my door.  It's threatening, Blair."  Her voice shaking, she read aloud, “’I saw you two all over each other tonight.  If you see that long-haired freak again, both of you are history!’”

“Who would do that?”

“I think it’s Sven, but I don’t really know for sure.”

“Sven!”  All he could see in his mind’s eye was the muscle-bound mountain of a man he remembered from the class he’d been in with Diana last semester.  The guy with the smoldering green eyes who had looked like he would just as soon flatten you as look at you.  Even the professor had tread lightly around the guy.

“You’re the only one I can turn to, Blair.  You came to my mind at once.  I thought, ‘Call Blair!  He’ll know what to do!’  What with your police experience and everything…”

<<Oh, no, why me?>>  He slid down the glass to sit on the concrete balcony floor, his eyes shut.  Could this even get any worse than it already was?  <<No!>> he shouted at himself.  <<Don’t even tempt the fates!>>

“Okay, Diana, I’ll come over to see you but I can’t leave right this minute.  How about…  say in an hour?”

An hour would be fine, she assured him.  With her voice considerably brighter than it had been when she’d phoned, she thanked him and hung up.

<<Okay, okay think Sandburg.>>  He could tell Jim he needed a couple of hours in the library that afternoon.  More lies.  He leaned his head back without thinking and it cracked loudly on the glass.  “Ow!”  He rubbed at the tender spot, wondering why everything in his life was seeming to turn against him.

Jim came out of the bathroom a moment later, his senses automatically seeking his partner. He was surprised to see him outside, propped against the balcony doors. He frowned when he realized that his heart was going a good bit faster than it should. He dressed quickly and when he came down, he saw that Blair had come in from the porch and was standing in the living room.

“Everything OK, Chief?” he asked, scanning the younger man.

“Yeah, man, I’m fine—just disappointed. That phone call was from one of my classmates.  <<At least that wasn’t a lie>> he thought.  We need to go over some notes for a research project we’re working on together, and the only time she can get together is this afternoon. I knew you wouldn’t want me putting off my school work,” he added, allowing his voice to become a little bit sarcastic to hide his discomfort at the lie. “Guess I’ll have to take a rain check on the game.”

Jim stared at him intently. Something didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Blair stared back at him, his eyes wide and innocent. “That’s a shame, Chief, but you’re right—school work first. So, where are you meeting her?”

“At the library—we’ll probably be a few hours.”

Jim nodded, still sensing something ‘off’. “All right,” he said, “I guess I’ll head over to the gym for a while. How about I drop you at the library and then I’ll swing by and pick you up in a few hours? We can get an early dinner, and maybe catch a movie. I’d still like to reward you for all your hard work this week.”

Blair’s mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible reason to refuse Jim’s offer. “Uh, I think I’d better have my own car, Jim. We may not be able to get all the info we need at Rainier—we might need to head over to the Cascade public library.”

Jim seemed to accept this at face value, but his eyes narrowed in a way that Blair knew indicated he wasn’t completely convinced about something.

“All right, Chief. I’ll just meet up with you back here later. And in the meantime, I’ll check the movie listings and see if there’s one we can agree on.”

“Sounds good, Jim,” Blair mumbled, feeling more guilty by the second. He made a show of gathering his books and papers, and headed for the door. “See you later, man.”

“Blair?”

<<Oh, Shit!!  He knows something!!>>  Blair thought nervously as he turned to face his roommate. “Yeah, Jim?” he asked tensely.

“Don’t you need your keys?” the older man asked as he picked them up from the counter and tossed them to his startled partner.

Blair accepted them with a pasted on grin and ducked out of the loft, kicking himself for practically guaranteeing that Jim would be suspicious. No doubt about it, this lying to a Sentinel stuff was for the birds.

He made it over to Diana’s without any delay, determined to deal with this crisis quickly and get back to the loft as soon as possible. Guilt sure was taking all the fun out of this. Maybe he’d even stop at the library on the way home so his story wouldn’t be a complete lie.

Blair had barely knocked on Diana’s door when it was thrown open and she pulled him inside with a huge hug.

“Oh, Blair, I’m so glad you’re here!  I’m sorry to call you like this, but I was so frightened and I knew you were probably used to dealing with all this stuff. I  knew Sven was the jealous sort, but I never thought he’d react like this!”

“It’s all right, Diana. I’m sure it’s nothing, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

“I just *knew* you’d understand!” she cooed, pulling him closer.

Blair let himself enjoy the feel of her amply endowed body against his chest for a moment, and then sternly reminded himself that he was here for a specific reason—and not the one his brain was so vividly picturing. “Let me take a look at the note,” he said in his most professional voice. She quickly crossed to the table and returned with it. Blair made a show of grabbing a tissue and taking the edge of the paper carefully.

“Do you have a bag we can put this in?” he asked, and her eyes widened.

“Do you think it’s serious, Blair?” she asked, sounding awed.

“I don’t really know at this point, but I do know that in cases like this, it’s always better to collect as much evidence as you can early on. Then, if it does turn out to be a problem, you have something physical to back up your claims.”

Diana looked impressed at his knowledge. “I was right to call you, Blair. I never would have thought of anything like that.” She went to the kitchen and brought back a large plastic bag. “Do you think we should let your partner know about this?”

“NO!!" Blair exclaimed, startling her. He willed himself to speak more calmly. “I mean, we don’t know for sure that this isn’t just some sort of silly prank. I wouldn’t want to draw Jim’s attention away from something really important until we’re sure.”

“Oh, I guess that’s true,” Diana murmured. “So, what should we do in the meantime?”

Blair’s mind was supplying quite a few answers to that particular question, but he was determined to keep things simple for the afternoon. He knew Jim would be able to smell traces of Diana’s perfume on him, but he did say the classmate he was meeting with was female. It would be a lot harder to explain other, more intimate smells on his body. Giving himself a mental shake, he sat down on the sofa and carefully placed the note inside the protective covering.

“I guess we should try and figure out how serious this Sven is—was he prone to  jealousy when the two of you were involved?”

Diana sat down beside him. “Oh, God, yes! If I so much as looked at another man, he’d be furious. Once, I smiled at the counter boy at a fast food restaurant where we stopped for lunch, and he blew up at me and yelled at me the rest of the evening. He even threatened to go back to the restaurant at closing time and mess the kid up. The boy couldn’t have been more than 17, but Sven was totally unreasonable.”

“Did he ever carry out any threats of violence?” Blair asked nervously. He really didn’t want to go up against a Neanderthal like that in one to one combat.

“Not that I know of…we broke up shortly after that.”

“And how does a guy like Sven take being broken up with?”

“You just make him think it was his idea in the first place. I started pointing out all the girls who just drooled when he walked by and he started taking an interest in some of them. When one in particular caught his eye, I just made the supreme sacrifice and told him I wouldn’t get in the way of true love. He told me we’d always be friends, but I guess he must have finally figured out that I gave up on him pretty easily. Or maybe the bimbo he was attracted to wasn’t really all that interested and he decided to give me another chance. He’s called a few times to ask me out, but I’ve always managed to put him off without coming right out and telling him ‘no’. I guess he got tired of waiting.”

Blair dropped his head back on the sofa, kicking himself for wondering back on the balcony earlier what else could go wrong. Talk about bad karma. Why should he have expected his life to be easy? First, the most gorgeous girl on campus takes an interest in him the exact same week his room mate decides to come down on him for his grades, and then he finds out she comes with a 250 lb. body builder in tow. He refused to even consider what other nasty tricks fate might have up her sleeve.

Blair left Diana's apartment with a headache.  What should have been a fun fling, a diversion during the busy semester, was turning out to be more complicated than any of the administrative hoops he had to jump through as a graduate student.  Was it really worth the trouble?  The lies, then more lies to support his stories, all because he had one more week to get through before the Sentinel would restore his Guide's freedom.  It was such a puzzle to Blair:  he hated being treated like a little kid, yet he liked having somebody care enough to treat him that way.

He decided to forego actually stopping at the University library, but he did drive past it.  His brain rationalized like crazy, already forming a statement for Jim about how packed the parking lot was for a Saturday afternoon.  By the time he parked outside the loft, the magic of Diana's attributes had worn off enough that guilt again overtook him.  Now his best friend was waiting to take him out to a movie as a reward for his hard work.  Blair was getting his schoolwork done lately, no doubt about that, but he had been deceiving Jim all the while.

When he hadn't seen his roommate's truck, he'd just assumed Jim had parked it behind the building when he got in that morning from the stakeout.  Blair realized however that he had the loft to himself.  He found a note on the fridge, written in Ellison's neat script:  "Sorry to cancel out on the movie.  Simon called me in to work. Things are finally happening with the case.  I'll call later.  Jim"

What a relief -- he didn't think he could have concentrated through a movie anyway, not with the guilt drum pounding relentlessly in his temples.  Could a person get a guilt headache? he wondered.  He grabbed the Tylenol bottle and shook out two capsules.  If he sat down and finished up the remaining school work that needed done before Monday, maybe (he hoped) both the guilt and headache would let up for a while.

**

Jim hung up the phone, having made arrangements with the SWAT team for coverage the next two nights. He hadn’t been thrilled when Simon had called him and asked him to come in, but at least things seemed to be moving on the case.

Simon had heard his part of the conversation and nodded his approval, rolling an unlit cigar between his fingers.  "With any luck, you and I are near to facing our last stakeout on this case.  Not that I don't appreciate your company, of course," he added sweetly.

Jim grinned.  "Of course, Captain.  How could I doubt that?  I feel the same way about sharing my truck with those cigars. "

The black man tried to scowl at him but gave in to a smile moments later.  "I'll bet Sandburg is fit to be tied about missing out on this entire case."

Mention of his Guide brought a frown to Jim's face.  Misinterpreting the look, Banks said, "Oh, no, don't tell me he's not getting anywhere with his schoolwork."

"No, it's not that," Ellison reassured him quickly.  "Actually, he's getting caught up amazingly fast.  He really is bright; I forget that sometimes."

"Then if things are going so great in the Sandburg Zone, why the worried look?"

"I’m afraid he's up to something, and until I find out what, there's this awful feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Of course he's up to something -- he's been grounded for a week now."

Jim looked up at Banks with raised eyebrows.  "How did you know--"

The police captain waved it off.  "Jim, one minute the kid's butt is on the line for poor grades, the next he's suddenly decided to stay away from the station until he gets everything squared away?  I don’t think so," he laughed.  "It's an easy assumption:  there had to have been something convincing him to get serious about his grades situation."

"And you figure that 'something' is one angry Sentinel."

Banks shrugged.  "So the kid needs a little guidance he never got earlier in his life.  If you find something that works with him, you'd better stick with it.  Something tells me this isn't going to be the only instance where you have to come down hard on him."

"Mm.  Something tells me you're right," Jim said grimly.

"Anyway, let's be sure we've got everybody we need lined up for both tonight and tomorrow night, since our leads have helped narrow it down."

Jim nodded.  "If this drug buy goes down like we expect it to, this'll be one major operation. Definitely worth giving up my Saturday afternoon off for."

"You aren't kidding.  It'll effectively shut down a large artery of the drug network here in Cascade.  The mayor is gonna love that news.  What he won't love is the publicity it'll bring the Rainbow Club -- that's one of his favorite haunts, you know."

"Well, then it sounds like he really should get out and find some new friends."

Banks tipped the cigar his way.  "I'll let you be the one to inform him of that."

Preparations continued for the expected drugs bust.  When all the arrangements were made, Jim decided to finish up some more paperwork, taking advantage of the relatively quiet bullpen.  There really wasn't enough time to go back home, anyway, before preparing to leave with Simon for the stakeout.  He picked up the phone to call the loft before he left the station.  The answering machine picked up and Jim frowned, glancing again at the time.  With a sigh he mentally lined up the points he wanted to make for his Guide.

At the beep, he said:  "Chief, listen up.  I've got several things to tell you.  Number one, I'll be out again tonight on stakeout with Simon.  Two, I know something is up with you lately, and if you know what's good for you, you'll be home all evening -- alone.  And three, when you are out against my wishes doing whatever it is you feel is worth tempting fate and my wrath, you'd sure as hell better steer clear of the Bayfront until further notice.  I mean it, Blair.  There's an op going down in the area tonight or tomorrow night, and I don't want you anywhere near it.  At home or at the University library are your only two options.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He hung up with a bad feeling, and found himself uncharacteristically just wanting to get the op over and done with.

**

Blair heard the answering machine click off just as he entered the loft carrying his dinner from the deli down the street. He quickly set the bag down and replayed the message, wincing when he heard his Sentinel’s stern words. Great! He had a perfectly acceptable reason for being out of the loft this time, but he knew his actions of the last several days had made his partner unduly suspicious. Try as he might, he’d never be able to hide things from Jim. He decided to call the older man at the station, just to reassure him that he was home as ordered and intended to be for the rest of the night.

Just as he reached for the phone, it rang under his hand.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Blair! I’m so glad you’re home! I’ve gotten another warning from Sven! He must have seen us together at my apartment this afternoon.”

“All right, calm down, Diana. What is it this time?”

“It’s a Barbie doll.”

“A doll?” Blair asked, puzzled.

“Yes. But, Blair, it’s missing it’s head! And the note attached says, ‘this will be you if you hang around that long-haired freak anymore’. I’m afraid he means it!”

Blair sighed.  Again with the hair?  Focusing on the matter at hand, he tried to calm Diana. “Put it in another bag, Diana, without touching it of you can. It sounds like our friend Sven is beginning to get a little more bold, and Jim always says that’s not a good sign.”

“Do you think we should tell your partner about this now, Blair?”

“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, Diana.” << No, that would be a really BAD idea. >>

“Well, we’ve got to do something. I know Sven isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I don’t think he’d be dumb enough to mess with a cop—or even a cop’s partner. Maybe we could meet with him and talk to him, and try to explain things. I know he works Saturday nights at the Rainbow Club. We could go over there and confront him. I know he wouldn’t do anything in front of witnesses.”

“I don’t know, Diana. That sounds a little risky to me. You never want to corner a wild animal.”

To his surprise, Diana laughed. “Oh, Blair, you’re funny. Besides, I think it’s time to let Sven know that I won’t put up with his antics anymore.” She let her voice drop and a subtle pout crept into it. “But, if you don’t want to help me, I guess I’ll just go by myself.”

Blair hastily thought it over. If Jim was on stakeout again, he’d be gone for the rest of the evening. If they could get out and back quickly, maybe they could put the whole mess behind them without Jim being any the wiser.

“No, Diana, I don’t want you to do that. If you really think it will help, we can head over there. What time does he come on?”

“I think he starts at 8:00. If we get there by 7:30, maybe we’ll have a chance to talk to him when he arrives.”

“All right. Hey, where is the Rainbow Club, anyway? I’ve heard of it, but on a TA’s salary, it’s always been a little bit out of my price range.”

Diana laughed again. “Boy, you don’t get out much, do you? It’s down on the water front. You know, where the mayor is having all those old warehouses refurbished to bring in the tourists.”

Blair sighed. He should have known—the Bayfront. The one area that his Blessed Protector had just got finished telling him to stay away from. He really must have pissed off an evil spirit to have this kind of luck.

“Blair? Are you there?”

Blair shook himself. “Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking. Would you mind if we took your car over there? Mine is running a little rough lately,” he obfuscated quickly.  The Volvo was a little too conspicuous, and he didn’t want to take any chances on Jim spotting—or hearing-- his car in the area.

“Sure I will, after all, you’re my knight in shining armor. I’ll be there by 7:00—just tell me where you live.”

He quickly gave her the address, promising to meet her out front. He certainly didn’t want Jim smelling perfume in the loft when he came home tonight. If he could just make it through tonight, he made a solemn vow to keep his nose clean for the rest of the week, no matter what Diana might have in mind.

He wolfed down his dinner, and worked for a while on his lecture notes for the Monday. He also decided he’d better change into something more appropriate for the Rainbow Club, so he pulled on khakis and a clean dress shirt. At ten minutes to seven, he grabbed his keys and jacket and went downstairs to wait for Diana. She pulled up a few minutes later, tooting merrily when she saw him on the steps.

Blair climbed into her car, letting out a whistle as he admired its sleek lines. Definitely out of his league. She laughed at his obvious appreciation.

“Daddy’s money, Blair,” she said, leaning over and pulling him into a hug. “You’d be surprised what I can convince Daddy I need to survive the rigors of graduate school.” She seemed bright eyed and excited, almost as though she was looking forward to the confrontation ahead.

Blair was anything *but* excited. Between his nervousness over Jim finding out about his activities and the thought of taking on a Neanderthal like Sven with only his quick wit and charm for defense, he was truly dreading what was to come.

They drove to the refurbished waterfront section of the city, old buildings and abandoned warehouses giving way to new shops and restaurants. Blair shook his head at all the urban renewal—he hated to see all the small ethnic neighborhoods swallowed up in the name of tourism, but when he mentioned these concerns to Diana, he could tell she had no interest in the topic.

As they pulled up to the parking lot of the Rainbow Club, Blair kept a wary eye out for the unmarked sedans he knew the department favored for stakeouts. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see any.

They climbed out of Diana’s car and made their way to the club. Blair glanced around, glad he had changed. People definitely got dolled up for a night at the Rainbow Club. Diana seemed well known there. The host waved them in, and they made their way to a table near the back and ordered a drink, settling in so they could keep their eyes open for Sven. Blair tensed when the huge man entered a few minutes later, but Diana seemed curiously unaffected by the presence of a man she claimed to be afraid of. She cheerily called out his name, waving him over to their table.

Blair gulped nervously. The man was even bigger than he remembered, and he didn’t seemed pleased to see the long-haired anthropologist.

“What are you doing here, Diana?  I mean, with him?” he growled, jerking his thumb at Blair in a way that was simultaneously threatening and dismissive.

To Blair’s amazement, the frightened girl he had comforted just earlier that day was gone, replaced by a flirtatious and confident woman.

“Oh, Sven, don’t be like that. We just came to talk to you. It was very naughty of you to leave those messages for me, you know,” she said with mock severity.

<<Naughty?? Try psychotic! >>, Blair thought, but he wasn’t anxious to contradict her.

Sven glanced around nervously. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else, Diana. No reason to let everyone in on our business. There’s a storeroom in back where we can talk privately.” He pointed to a doorway in the back and headed in that direction.

To Blair’s consternation, Diana immediately rose. Blair grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute!” he hissed into her ear. “What about staying out here and talking where there are witnesses, remember? Wasn’t that part of the plan?”

Diana laughed again, a sound Blair was growing heartily sick of. “Oh, Blair, what’s going to happen? After all, you’re practically a cop. If he gets out of hand, just use those big stern cop words and he’ll back right down like a little pussy cat.”

Blair wanted to point out to her that he might not be able to get those ‘big, stern cop words’ out of his mouth if Sven busted his jaw before he had a chance, but Diana was already through the door.

**

Jim and Simon pulled down a side street near the Rainbow Club, hiding the car between a row of dumpsters. The SWAT team had called in their positions, and were waiting for the signal. All seemed ready; now it was up to the suspects to show. Everyone involved in the investigation agreed that the buy would most likely be tonight. The club would be crowded with patrons, and in all the confusion, no one would notice anything suspicious.

Jim drummed his hands restlessly on the steering wheel, not noticing Simon’s exasperated looks in his direction. Finally, the big man clapped his hand down over both of Jim’s.

“Enough, already, Jim. You just don’t have the rhythm to be playing such a fine instrument. God, you’re as fidgety as Sandburg tonight! What’s the problem?”

Jim shrugged, removing his hands self-consciously from the wheel. “I’m not sure, sir. I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Simon shook his head. “Would you stop worrying? Everything is in position, and if all goes well tonight, we should both have major commendations coming from the chief. This has been a long operation, and I, for one, am glad to see it ending.”

“I know, sir. I guess it’s just adrenaline, waiting for something to happen.” Jim closed his eyes and leaned back against the head rest, reaching out carefully with his senses. He didn’t want to risk a zone-out without Blair here to back him up, but he felt helpless just waiting.

Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, startling Simon.

“Jim, what is it? Do you hear something?” the captain asked excitedly.

“Sandburg! I hear Sandburg in my head!”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t that what the kid always wants you to do to keep from zoning out—concentrate on his voice?”

“No!! That’s not what I mean! I mean I *really* hear his voice! In there,” he said, pointing to the back of the club.

Simon gazed skeptically in the direction Jim was pointing. “Look, Jim, I’m sure you’re imagining it. You’re feeling guilty that the kid isn’t with us, and your mind is supplying the voice. I’m sure that’s all it is. Hell, I was standing right next to you when you left the message telling Sandburg *not* to come down this way.”

“And we both know how well Sandburg obeys orders, Captain.” Jim listened a moment longer, his face growing more and more concerned. “It’s him, Simon. He’s in a back room with two other people. We’ve got to get him out of there!”

Jim’s hand was on the door handle before he finished his sentence.

He peripherally heard Simon radio the situation to all backup units for stand-by, but by then he was across the street and racing to the rear of the club.  The sound of his Guide's voice filled his ears -- anxious, babbling, trying to persuade.  It spurred Jim on even faster.

A side street took him away from the brightly lit and populated front entrance of the very trendy waterfront club.  He remembered from floor plans he'd studied in the last 24 hours that a rear service entrance opened into a hallway; storage rooms were located along that corridor, so at least he shouldn't have club guests to deal with.  He knew the building in advance.  Thank God for that small piece of luck, he thought.  Otherwise, he could have wasted valuable time searching, maybe even crashing into the establishment to force his way to Sandburg.  The op would have been ruined but he didn't doubt for a minute he'd do it, if that's what it would take to get to his Guide.

The service entrance was latched but no barrier to get past.  He forced the lock with relative quiet and ducked into the empty corridor.  Crouching low beside the wall, Jim Ellison forced himself to pause and reach out with his hearing to gauge the situation -- and hopefully his Guide's exact location.

A rough male voice threatened:  "…and you need to be taught a lesson about messing around where you shouldn't, you long-haired freak of nature…"

Sandburg's pulse rate spiked and Jim knew the threat was directed at the anthropologist.  His Guide was behind the door the Sentinel now faced.  Ellison lunged for the door, ready to battle the drug lord and his thugs even as lightning-fast thoughts seared through his brain:  the club owner had learned of the PD's surveillance, somehow discovered Jim's part in it and abducted Blair to use as a bargaining chip, when the deal finally went down….

He crashed through the door to find a man built of rippling muscle towering over Blair Sandburg.  One meaty hand clutched the grad student's shirt while he pulled back his other fist.  Ellison grabbed the man and turned him around, but had to deliver a punch of his own in order to stop the body builder's assault.

The entire scenario was over and defused, the Sentinel's senses giving him every indication all threat was removed.  He didn't understand how it had happened so easily.  This drug operation was not known for giving up.

The muscle-bound man backed away from Ellison, his hands going to his bleeding nose.  His eyes were wide with shock as if he couldn't fathom he had actually been hit.

The stunned silence in the room ended as the body builder wailed, "You hit me!"

"Sven, my poor baby!"

It was then Ellison noticed the woman who now crowded around 'Sven.'  She tossed her glossy hair back over her shoulder and leaned in close to him, trying to wipe away the blood while Sven wailed that his nose was broken and would swell, and something along the lines of how it would mar his looks.  Jim shook his head; he hadn't hit the guy that hard….

When the Sentinel turned a confused look on his Guide, the expression on the younger man's face said it all:  guilt, sheepishness, and like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment.  Definitely not relieved that he'd been saved from sure death….

Beyond a squeaky "Uh, hi Jim," Sandburg was not forthcoming with explanations.  The detective looked from the anthropologist to the woman babying the big man, and back to Sandburg again.

Before he could start asking the questions that were about to explode from his mouth, he picked up muffled words between Sven's wails about his nose:  "…messin' with my girlfriend…  I'll show him…"

"Oh Sven, baby, it's all right."

Another look at the lady -- evidently the 'girlfriend' in question -- filled in one more piece of the puzzle as to his Guide's involvement here.  She was a good candidate for any lingerie or swimsuit ad, and obviously believed in dressing to reveal her talents.

Jim flashed his badge with an irritated sigh.  He forestalled any and all protests with his best hardass voice:  "You three are interfering with a police operation.  I ought to cuff every one of you and haul your asses down to the station."  His glare at Sandburg made it very clear he included his Guide in that threat.

Twenty minutes later, Jim and Simon had extracted enough of the story from a still-wailing Sven, who was dying of nosebleed (though the bleeding had long since stopped, from what Jim could tell), from a gushing Diana who babied the whining Sven, and from a nervous and reluctant Blair Sandburg.

Simon soon packed Sven and Diana off in a police cruiser.  Ellison had gotten the three away from the club quietly enough, and their meeting spot was far enough removed from there that Banks believed the operation still intact.

"…And no thanks to you!" he bellowed at the Police Observer, who flinched but remained otherwise quiet and downcast, not even looking at the police captain.  He wasn't destined to get away with even that much, tonight.

"You will look at me when I address you, Mister!"

The younger man's head snapped up and miserable blue eyes met hard, enraged brown ones.

"You were expressly forbidden from coming anywhere near this part of town, yet here you are.  If you had any idea the potential problems you've caused this operation….  Not to mention getting your sorry ass into trouble -- again!"

"I'm sorry, Captain."  Blair winced at how weak his voice sounded.

"Sorry!"  Banks roared, clearly entertaining no sympathy for the younger man's situation.  "You weren't sorry when you took up with the lovely and well-endowed Ms. Diana, were you?  Even though she came attached to a Neanderthal body builder!  And you weren't sorry when you snuck around behind Jim's back when you were supposed to be on house arrest until your grades came up."

Blair's only response was widened eyes at the mention of his restriction.

The black man's wrath swung to take in Jim Ellison, who had been wisely standing by waiting his turn with Sandburg.

"And you!"

Jim started, surprised at the bark in his direction.  "Me, Sir?"  <<What had he done wrong?>>

"You let him get away with far too much.  If he were Darryl, I'd tan his backside but good!"

There was silence as Banks' pronouncement sank in.  Even Simon seemed surprised at his own words, but he recovered and added just as passionately, "Take him home and deal with him or I will!"

The discussion was over.  Simon walked off, shaking his head in disgust.  All Jim could manage was to point in the direction of his truck.  The younger man opened his mouth to speak, looked again at the thunderous expression on his Sentinel's face, and trudged off toward the vehicle.

Once they were safely buckled inside the truck and headed for home, Blair turned to Jim, desperate to apologize for his part in all that had happened in the last few minutes.

“Jim, I know you’re angry and you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m sorry. I had no way of knowing that your case was happening right here. I’ve been out of the loop, remember?” he said anxiously, hoping to convince the older man that there had been mitigating circumstances surrounding his presence here.

For a moment, Jim’s jaw tightened, and Blair was afraid he might have provoked another tirade in the angry man, but when he spoke his voice was one of icy control.

“Yes, I remember, Blair. I also distinctly remember why you were ‘out of the loop’. If you recall, you’re on restriction. A restriction that apparently you haven’t heeded at all. Tell me, Blair, when did you first hook up with Diana? If I remember correctly, she’s the woman whose number you were so anxious to get just a week ago. The same week all this business with your grades came about. You two certainly seemed to have developed quite a relationship in that time.”

Blair found he couldn’t meet his sentinel’s eyes. He’d lied to Jim so many times in the last few days, he couldn’t even remember what was the truth anymore. And had it really only been a week? It seemed like a year to him—a year of deception and sneaking around.

“Diana called me last week and invited me to a concert last night. I just couldn’t tell her why I couldn’t go!” he said desperately, tears beginning to pool in his sky blue eyes.

“So you lied to me, and went out after I left for the stake out,” Jim clarified, his voice flat and cold. “And today? Your ‘important study session’? I suppose that was a lie, too.”

Blair nodded wordlessly, unable to stop the tears that now made their way down his face. “I never meant to deceive you, but Diana was just so…”. Words failed him at that point, as the stark realization of all that he had done to undermine their friendship sank into his brain. “Oh God, Jim, I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot, Chief.” Jim replied, his voice softer now, but still angry. When he continued, it was as though he’d been reading Blair’s mind. “You told me not long ago that what we have between us is all about friendship, and that’s true. But a big part of that friendship is based on trust. Do you have any idea what your antics today have done to that trust?”

Again Blair nodded, too overcome to speak. He was afraid he knew what was coming next—‘sorry, Blair, but I won’t live and work with a liar. It was fun while it lasted, but now you’re out.’ He wouldn’t blame the sentinel at all, but he wasn’t sure he could stand the pain. He was so caught up in his dim view of the future, he didn’t even notice that they had arrived at the loft until he felt Jim’s hand on him.

“Upstairs, Blair,” Jim said tersely.

Blair followed him up to the loft, wondering if Jim would make him leave right away, or if he’d give him some time to make other arrangements. Once inside the apartment, Blair stood just inside the door, hugging himself with his chin to his chest, uncertain what to do. He could hear Jim moving around the loft with determination, but he didn’t bother to look up to see what the older man was doing. <<Probably gathering cartons so you can move your stuff out of here.>>

Tears continued to leak out of his closed eyes, but he refused to open them, childishly hoping that maybe if he didn’t look, he could hold off the inevitable.

“C’mere, Chief,” Jim finally said, his voice still stern.

Blair nervously opened his eyes and moved unsteadily over to the older man. Jim was standing by the dining room table, which held one of Blair’s notebooks and a pen. Blair stopped in front of him, staring at his shoes. He offered no resistance when Jim cupped his chin in a firm but gentle grip and raised his face until he had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“I guess you know I’m way past angry here, kid,” the sentinel began. “In fact, I’m too angry to deal with you right now, so here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit down in this chair and write down every single thing you’ve done over the last week that was contrary to my direct orders, and I mean everything, Blair—every act of disobedience, every obfuscation, every omission of the facts. Think about it long and hard, because I don’t want you to miss one. I’m going to go out and take a walk and cool off for a bit.”

He paused, and his eyes stared steadily into Blair’s. “I think you know what’s going to happen when I get back. If you value this friendship at all, you’ll be right here when I return. And I mean right here. I don’t want you to move your butt from this chair.”

Realization dawned in Blair, bringing equal measures of trepidation and relief. Jim was not going to throw him out! That joyful thought was immediately followed by a less joyful one. Jim might not be throwing him out, but he was certainly going to exact a strong punishment for his disobedience. His face flamed when he thought about exactly what his friend and partner was going to do when he returned.

Jim was still staring at him, obviously waiting for a response.

“I understand,” Blair whispered, sentinel-soft, but then he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Does this mean you’ll forgive me?”

Jim moved his hand from the younger man’s chin and patted his shoulder. “I’ll always forgive you, Chief. I might be unhappy with you right now, and before this night is over, I guarantee you’ll know exactly how much, but I’ll always forgive you.”

The heartfelt words brought the first real glimmer of a smile to Blair’s face. Tonight would be bad—of that, Blair had no doubt; but he would get through it. And the important thing was, Jim would forgive him.

Jim put his hands on both shoulders and directed him into the chair. “I’m leaving now, Blair. I want you to stay right here. Believe me, I’ll hear you long before you’ll hear me, so don’t even think of budging from this seat.”  He pushed the pen and notebook toward Blair. “You know what you have to do, so you’d best get to it.”

Blair shrugged out of his coat, and draped it along the back of the chair. He picked up the pen and then looked up at Jim. “I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised quietly.

**

Seating Blair at the table with the directive to record his every transgression gave Jim Ellison a sense of productive action.  The feeling that he was doing something about the problem lessened his anger -- a little.  That anger had been building since he realized his Guide had once again gone against Jim's wishes and gotten himself into trouble.  Jim had to walk away from the situation before he did or said something that would be hard to set straight.

<<Good Lord,>> he thought as he turned to head down the sidewalk, <<if that drug deal had gone down tonight….>>

He clenched his hands at his sides and locked his jaw tight.  His long legs carried him up the block, then another, and another as he tried to imagine dialing down his anger, like he could with his senses.  It didn't work the same way, but the physical exertion did ease the thunderous emotions roaring through him.

His thoughts kept bringing him back to the facts:  he loved the younger man, who right now was back at the loft answering for his actions and deception.  He couldn't have loved him more if Blair Sandburg had been his blood brother.  But Ellison was also at his wit's end where his Guide was concerned.  It would be so easy, he thought, if he didn't care so much.  Then whenever Sandburg found trouble -- one of his best talents, Jim thought wryly -- it wouldn't be such a big deal to the Sentinel.  Maybe.  Jim shook his head.  He knew he had to deal with Blair swiftly -- tonight -- and in a way that his Guide wouldn't be likely to forget for some time to come.

He realized he'd come to a standstill on a street corner.  The clock on a bank sign some blocks ahead read 9:30.  He had stopped walking the instant he confirmed with himself what he'd really known when he walked out of the loft.  Now it was time to head back home and deal with the situation in the way he knew was necessary.

He turned around to go back through the intersection he'd just crossed.  He looked up at the crosswalk signal and beyond, taking in the sporting goods store that occupied that corner.  His Sentinel eyesight automatically cut through the display window to the store interior, past floor displays to a wall rack of equipment at the far side of the store -- and zeroed in on one thing in particular.

He pulled his sight back and focused on the small-print sign that told him the store was open for another half hour.

It was the sporting goods store where he and Blair had purchased some camping gear not so long ago, gear they had used when they had taken a trip to Crater Lake. Good times between them -- the best.  Their relationship spanned so many levels, and that trip had brought them all out.  Older brother teaching the younger one how to catch a particular type of fish; best of friends relaxing together and sharing laughs; and, Jim had to admit to the role of parent giving advice to a young man who sometimes desperately needed a guiding hand.  He wanted more times like that, more of the feelings of close friendship and brotherly affection.  For now, however, he knew he had to enact the parental role again and see to discipline that the younger man would not want but that he sorely needed.

It wouldn't necessarily be any easier this time than it had the last, when he'd given his Guide concrete consequences to his reckless actions.  But at least it was not completely foreign territory now.  Given his anger and disappointment in the younger man, he knew he would handle matters -- to use Blair's own words to describe the only spanking he'd ever received from his mother -- "like a real pro."

Ten minutes later he was at the rear of the store turning a ping pong paddle over in his hands.  He tried the feel of the handle, tested a swing through the air.  It was small, but felt solid in his hand… and right for what he needed.  He felt sure it would make an impact on his young partner.

He extended his hearing when he was a block away from the loft.  He could detect no movement from inside -- not even a pen scratching out words on paper.  It seemed, at least just now, that Blair was still seated at the dining room table as Jim had instructed.  The Sentinel could easily picture the young man agonizing over his list of sins.  Ellison didn't doubt that Blair Sandburg was suffering over having deceived his Sentinel.  He didn't doubt that of his sensitive-natured Guide one bit.

But he also knew Sandburg pretty well by now -- it was going to take something a good bit stronger than emotions to remind the young man to heed his words.  Oh, Jim intended to use emotion; very soon now, his Guide would be experiencing some vivid embarrassment as he accepted the consequences of his behavior.  Ellison knew that his Guide could also use a little physical smart to make the situation and its consequences more tangible.

He knew the moment Blair heard him.  The younger man's heart rate skyrocketed as the elevator lurched and creaked upward.

Ellison found his Guide exactly where he'd been directed to remain.  He saw the younger man stiffen in the dining room chair, but Blair didn't turn around.  Jim set the plastic sporting goods bag at the end of the counter before he turned to face Sandburg, hands on his hips.  Blair looked up at him -- the fearful blue eyes Jim had expected -- and visibly wilted under the stony expression he saw there.

"How many, Blair?"

The grad student swallowed.  His voice was little more than a squeak as he repeated, "How many?"

With a slight nod to the notebook open on the table before his Guide, Jim asked, "How many transgressions did you come up with?"

"Um--"  Blair glanced down at the notebook, where he had numbered each item.  "Seven."

"Let's see."

Blair removed the page from the binder and put it in Jim's out-thrust hand.

Ellison looked the list over and began reading the items, while Blair winced to hear his every wrongdoing voiced aloud:  "1) I told Jim I was all caught up on my schoolwork, when I knew my grades were in trouble; 2) I made a date with Diana for the concert, while I was still on restriction; 3) I lied about not going out that evening; 4) I lied about Diana's phone call; 5) I lied about meeting to study at the library, and instead went to see Diana -- that one might even be two, Blair," Ellison put in sweetly, and continued, "6) I heard Jim's message on the answering machine, reminding me I was supposed to stay home, but I went out anyway, with Diana -- who else?; 7) I went with her to the Rainbow Club, even though it was in the part of town Jim said to avoid."

Jim looked up.  "Is this all?"

The younger man nodded miserably.

The Sentinel accepted the answer with a curt nod.  "Then let's go upstairs."

His Guide blanched.  Nervousness spurred his speech and the words tumbled out of his mouth.  "Do we have to?  Look, Jim, I know I've made you really angry, and I wouldn't blame you if you don't trust me anymore and I would do anything if you could, trust me again, I mean, but do we have to--"  He broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Ellison said patiently, looking down at him, "I won't manhandle and force you in order to punish you, Blair.  But I feel strongly about what you need right now -- and that's some old-fashioned discipline that's going to serve as a hard reminder.  I figured out the last time you and I had this discussion that a little pain makes an impact on you in the learning department -- and I see absolutely nothing detrimental in giving you a sore bottom from time to time.  I think it's an acceptable trade for keeping you out of trouble, at least for a while."

Hearing the words that described what he would very soon be feeling left the younger man red faced and with his mouth open, speechless.

Jim indicated the page in his hand and continued.  "I expect you to own up to this list and take the punishment I see fit for you.  But if you do walk up those stairs with me, you'd better know that I'm not kidding around -- you're going to pay dearly for every single item on this list."

There was a long, long silence as Ellison waited.

Finally Blair whispered, "Can we get it over with?"

"Let's go."  Jim gestured for Blair to walk up the stairs ahead of him.  He picked up the sporting goods bag as he followed his Guide, carrying it and the piece of paper.

All business, Ellison wasted no time in seating himself at the foot of the bed.  He lay the plastic bag beside him on the comforter; he then judged from the last time he and Blair had been in this position and bent forward, placing the page on the floor to his left.

Wide blue eyes looked from the list, to Jim -- then grew wider still as his Sentinel withdrew the ping pong paddle from the sporting goods bag.

"Jim!  You went out and bought that… to use on me?"

"I told you downstairs just now that I'm not kidding around.  I'm going to do what it takes to get through to you."

"But you can't--  No way, man!  I'm not letting you use that on me."

Jim sighed, feeling his patience slip.  He also wanted this over with, but he was determined to follow it through.  "We've already been through this, Blair.  If you can tell me you don't feel you deserve to be punished for all those things," he nodded at the list on the floor, "then we're done here.  Otherwise, you'd best get over here."

He purposely let the words "we're done" hang in the air without further clarification, knowing that it might take a little scare to get the kid in gear.

Blair's eyes remained focused on the paddle a moment longer, then at the low-voiced "Now" Ellison added, a quiet word that somehow filled the loft, he moved forward.

When the younger man had stepped closer to the side Ellison indicated, next to his right knee, he ordered, "Take down your pants."  He heard the sharp intake of breath that preceded more protest, but the dark blue eyes caught Jim's light blue, deadly serious ones and the words died in Sandburg's throat.  When the cloth was pushed down, the Sentinel reached out and brought his Guide forward until he lay over the older man's thighs.

Ellison secured his left arm about the smaller man's waist.  He could feel the tremors coursing through the form.  Blair tensed when Jim grasped the waistband of his boxers.  The Sentinel pulled the shorts down past Blair's thighs, until they rested at the younger man’s knees. Blair squirmed in embarrassment, but made no move to escape.

"Can you see your list?" Jim asked the curtain of hair that hung and obscured his Guide's face.  He heard a muffled "yes" and nodded, bringing the paddle to rest on Blair's bottom.

"I want to hear you read each item, and I'll punctuate each one with this paddle.  What's the first one?"

Blair read it, word for word, and tensed.  Jim lifted the paddle and brought it down with a loud crack.  The younger man yelped loudly. The paddle’s sting was much worse than the hairbrush.

"Number two," Ellison prompted, and followed Blair's now-tearful recitation with another spank square on his bottom, followed in turn by another exclamation of pain and surprise.

He didn't have to prompt for the rest.  His Guide dutifully read off each offense.  The Sentinel brought the paddle down twice, rapidly for item number five -- "I still think that one could be two, Chief" -- receiving an even louder yelp at the smarting double blows.

When the last item was recited and given a sound spank, Jim paused.  He didn't loosen his hold on the younger man.  "A good many of those were lies, Chief.  You know how I feel about you lying to me."  He then emphasized his feelings on the subject with a series of spanks, targeting the lower curves of the bare buttocks.  "And you especially know how I feel about your putting yourself in dangerous situations, don't you?"  He didn't expect an answer; instead he spanked alternating cheeks, repeatedly.  The younger man's tears were now sobs.  "And I've told you, over and over again, to think things through before you act, Blair.  For a kid with the kind of brains you have, I swear I don't know why you don’t think ahead to the consequences of your actions."  He aimed the last series of blows to the crease between buttocks and thighs, making them count.

Blair’s breath was coming in short, hitching gasps when Jim finally finished. Every inch on his backside was stinging like fury, and Blair knew sitting would be close to impossible for the foreseeable future. But the pain brought no anger with it—only shame at his actions, and an overwhelming relief that the slate was wiped clean; his transgressions duly paid for.
He slid off Jim’s thighs, torn between the desire to dress quickly and lessen his humiliation, and dread for the pain the action would surely bring. Jim rubbed his back gently, waiting for the tears to subside somewhat. When Blair’s breathing was more normal, Jim helped him to his feet and moved away to place the ping pong paddle in the nightstand drawer, allowing Blair some privacy to adjust his clothes. When he turned back, Blair was standing forlornly, misery coming off him so strongly Jim could almost sense it physically. Jim crossed quickly to him and wrapped an arm around the bent shoulders, pulling Blair close. He leaned down until his forehead was touching the younger man’s.

“It’s been a long couple of days, Blair, for both of us, so why don’t we turn in now. We’ll talk more in the morning, all right?”

Blair just nodded and turned toward the steps, wincing as the cloth of his trousers rubbed against his tender and swollen flesh. He paused when he heard Jim’s voice.

“Hey, Chief? Sleep well, OK?,” he said gently, without a trace of irony.

“’Night, Jim,” Blair mumbled, continuing down the stairs, wincing at each step. Jim could hear the tiny pained gasps and shook his head ruefully. Obviously, the paddle had delivered a thorough lesson. He kept an ear tuned on Blair as he completed his own bedtime preparations, not surprised when he heard the even breathing that indicated his guide was asleep just a short time later. Blair had had a difficult night, and most likely his guilty conscience had kept his sleep restless for the past few days. Jim hoped that with all of the lies and deceptions accounted for, Blair would be able to sleep deeply and peacefully once again.

He went downstairs to wash up, stopping outside Blair’s room when he finished to listen again. Sure that the younger man was deeply asleep, he quietly pushed the door open. As expected, Blair was sprawled on his stomach, his arms tucked under his pillow. Jim could still see the faint tracks of tears on his cheeks as he moved closer to the sleeping man. He snagged an extra blanket from the end of the bed, intending to drape it gently over the peaceful form. He paused and held his hand a few inches above his guide’s backside, feeling the heat radiating from the flesh. Moving silently back to the bathroom, he snagged a bottle of aloe from the medicine chest and returned to place it on Blair’s nightstand, where the younger man would be sure to see it first thing in the morning.  Satisfied that he had fulfilled all his many roles as Blessed Protector tonight, he wearily returned to his own bed, and sank into grateful oblivion.

**

Blair opened one eye, immediately aware of two things. It was at least late morning, and his butt hurt like hell. He cautiously rolled onto his side, glancing blearily at his alarm clock. Ten twenty-seven. He pulled himself a little more upright, careful to keep his weight on his hip. He could hear Jim in the kitchen, and smelled breakfast cooking, but he wasn’t anxious to move, or to face his Sentinel. His face flushed when he remembered the sound paddling Jim had given him the night before, and even though Jim had told him that all was forgiven, he wasn’t sure how he’d be received this morning. Suddenly, his eye was caught by the tall bottle of aloe that they kept on hand for burns. Jim must have placed it beside his bed while he slept. Resigned to the fact that he’d have to get up at some point, he gingerly climbed out of bed, snagging clean boxers and his softest sweats from the laundry basket in the corner. The pain that the simple movement caused made him grab the aloe lotion, too. He ducked into the bathroom without speaking to Jim, hoping a cool shower would ease some of the sting.

When he emerged a few minutes later, he felt much better. The combination of the water and  the aloe had soothed the worst of the pain and he now felt ready to face his roommate. Jim looked up when he came into the kitchen.

“Breakfast in five, Chief,” he said, surreptitiously checking his young partner over. He could smell the light scent of the aloe, so he knew Blair had used it. “Everything all right this morning?”

“Yeah, Jim, I guess so, “ Blair replied, still uncomfortable meeting his eyes. He sipped at the orange juice Jim placed before him, unsure how to fill the sudden silence that descended. A moment later, Jim handed him a plate with scrambled eggs and toast, not bothering to put it on the table. Blair looked up and saw Jim was propped against the counter, eating his own breakfast. Usually the sentinel was insistent that they eat their meals at the table like civilized people and not the bachelors they both were, so Blair knew this change in the routine was to spare him the pain and embarrassment of trying to sit comfortably on the hard wooden chairs. He smiled slightly, silently conveying his thanks and understanding.

They ate without speaking, enjoying the quiet Sunday morning. When they were finished, Blair took it upon himself to get started on the dishes since Jim had cooked. While the water was running, the phone rang. Jim answered it and then held it up to him.

“It’s for you, Chief,” he said, his tone faintly disapproving. That alone answered Blair’s unspoken question—the caller was no doubt Diana. He picked up the cordless uneasily, wondering what type of greeting he’d get.

//Blair? It’s Diana. I just wanted to say I’m sorry about last night—and so is Sven.”//

“It’s all right, Diana. I’m just glad we all made it out of there okay,” Blair replied, casting a nervous eye over at Jim. “What happened with the two of you? I kind of lost track of you in all the confusion.”

//Well, after we finished talking to the cops and explained everything, they took us back to the club so we could pick up our cars, and we ended up talking the rest of the night. I think Sven and I are going to try and pick up where we left off, and I have you to thank for that, Blair.//

“Glad I could help,” Blair replied ruefully. <<So much for the budding relationship.>>

Diana didn’t even seem to notice the sarcasm.  //I think you’re real cute and all, Blair, but Sven needs me. I hope you understand.//

“Sure, Diana. Look, I’d better go now. I’ll see you around campus, okay?”

//Okay, Blair. And say hi to that cute cop friend of yours, will you? He sure was gorgeous all steamed up like that! So masculine and aggressive! I just wish he hadn’t hit my poor Sven!//

Blair just shook his head, wondering how he could have ever thought that he and Diana could have a meaningful relationship.

“Yeah, Diana, I will. Good bye.”

He hung up without waiting for her to reply, shaking his head. What a waste! He could hardly believe that he had put his relationship with Jim in jeopardy for her. And the soreness in his backside as he returned the phone to its cradle reminded him of the punishment his silly infatuation with her had cost him. Definitely not worth it!

Jim had been wiping down the counters, trying to allow his young guide some privacy for his conversation, but he looked up when Blair hung up the phone.

“I take it that didn’t go well, huh, Chief?”

“You can say that again. Man, I am such an idiot!” Blair replied, running his hands through his hair.

“Watch who you’re calling ‘idiot’. You happen to be talking about my very best friend,” Jim teased, swatting at Blair’s head with the kitchen towel.

Blair gave him a half-hearted grin. “Well, I’ve learned my lesson, that’s for sure. No more dating based just on how a girl looks for me.”

“Is that *all* you’ve learned from the past few days, Chief?” Ellison asked ominously.

Blair’s eyes flew up to meet his partner’s. “No, Jim. I swear, I’ll never lie to you again,” he said sincerely.

Jim just smiled. “Never is a long time, Blair, but I hope you know how lies and deception can destroy a friendship.”

“I know, really I do. I’m just glad this whole thing is over.”

“Well, not quite, Chief,” Jim said and Blair looked at him nervously.

“What do you mean?” he asked, afraid the sentinel meant he was going to be punished even more.

“You still have to talk to Simon. He was as upset with you as I was, and you’re going to need to make that right, Blair.”

"Yeah.  I know you're right.  Jim--"  He broke off, unsure if he really wanted to ask what was on his mind, but needing to know the answer.

The Sentinel could read the importance and weight of the issue on his friend's mind.  "You can ask me anything, Chief, you know that.  Right?"

Troubled blue eyes met Jim's own, but the younger man was obviously warmed by the reassurance.  "Thanks, Jim.  It's just that--  Well, last night after Diana and Sven were taken away, and Simon was yelling at me, well, he seemed to know about my being grounded over the grades thing…."

"And you're wondering if I told him."  There was no hardness in the older man's voice, only quiet understanding.

Blair nodded, once again miserable over the whole mess.  On the one hand, he knew he had been terribly wrong to let things get so out of hand, and he had deserved both the restriction and the spanking -- much as he had disliked the embarrassment and pain.  Jim had been right; Blair had to admit, if grudgingly, that he needed discipline in his young life.  On the other hand, though, he was mortified at the thought of anyone else knowing the details -- Simon Banks, his friends, anyone.  He only hoped Jim could understand that.

He soon saw that he needn't have worried.  The bigger man approached him and held his face in two large hands.  With a look direct into his eyes, Ellison spoke with conviction:  "Blair, there are some things that are meant to be between you and me, only.  The times I punish you, whether it's to restrict your actions or get you to write down and contemplate your transgressions, or certainly any time I feel I have to spank you to get through to you or give you a way to answer for what you've done wrong….  Chief, all of that is between us, period.  I won't talk about it to anyone -- I would never do that to you, or to our trust.  All right?"

Blair nodded, and felt dangerously close to tears again at the overwhelming emotions brought out in him by the Sentinel's gentle touch and understanding words.

"The only reason Simon knew anything about it is because he guessed what had happened.  It wasn't too difficult, Chief.  One minute you're fighting to hold onto your observer credentials so you can stay at my side, and the next, you're a homebody getting your school work caught up with.  And he does have a teenager, remember," Jim added with a smile.

His voice nearly a whisper, Blair said, "I'm not a teenager, Jim."

The softly spoken but heart-felt reminder didn't anger his Sentinel.  Instead, Ellison smiled.  "I know that, Blair.  Believe me, I do.  I don't ever want you to think that I've punished you because I think you're a child.  Whenever I do discipline you, it's because I feel I've run out of options.  It's because I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that means safe from yourself and your own actions.  When it comes to that, I don't care how old you get."

With his lips turned into a small smile, Blair asked a question that was part teasing, part serious:  "Does that mean you'll still be spanking me when I'm well into my 30s?"

Sincere light-blue eyes and a tone of conviction gave him his answer.  "Whatever it takes, Chief."

He let the Sentinel pull him into a brief, hard hug.  When he was released, Ellison said, "Why don't we head down to the station?  Today's a good day for making amends and getting your observer's pass back, so you can be back where you belong.  You still have a week to go on your restriction, and under the circumstances I feel you should finish it out.  But that doesn't mean we can't square things away with Simon."

**

The ride downtown seemed to erase all the good that the soothing shower water and aloe lotion had done for his smarting rear end.  Blair climbed out of the truck slowly, looking, he was sure, like an old man who could hardly get around.

"Don't worry," Jim told him as they moved toward the elevator in the parking garage.  He put a reassuring hand on Blair's back.  "Make your peace with Simon and I'll take you back home.  You can get more school work done and spend some healing time on your stomach."

"I plan to," Blair assured him as their elevator moved upward.

"And use more of the aloe lotion," Ellison advised.

Blair blushed but nodded.  It occurred to him then that his Sentinel seemed to know pretty well what it was like to deal with the results of a sound spanking.  If they had more time alone, he'd have asked Jim about it.  But the elevator doors opened and they were there.

"One more thing, Chief -- you're on your own with Simon."

"Sure, Jim.  Thanks."

There was no sarcasm or insincerity in his tone.  He wanted -- and needed -- to talk to Simon privately.  Jim understood that.  Blair also instinctively knew what else the Sentinel's words meant:  he would not listen in on the conversation.

The bull pen was fairly quiet since it was a Sunday.  Blair was thankful for that -- he wanted only to get this over with and return home to deal privately with the consequences of his punishment.  He saw that Simon's door was open and it looked as if the police captain was alone.  He took a deep breath and headed for the open door.  "Wish me luck," he said under his breath, knowing the Sentinel had heard.

**

"Um--  Captain?"

Banks looked up in surprise.  He obviously hadn't noticed the timid figure that had come to his doorway until the younger man spoke up.  He put his pen down and simply stared at Blair for a moment.  The grad student squirmed and fidgeted under the steady gaze, unsure whether to come in or leave.

Finally Simon Banks said in a voice not quite cold but not warm either, "Blair.  Come in."

Blair did, closing the door quietly behind him.  "I'm, uh--  I don't want to interrupt you--  Well, not for long, since I guess I've already interrupted whatever you were doing--"

Banks sighed and rubbed his temple.  "Sandburg, just sit down.  I'm not in the mood for your word mazes."

"Yes, sir."  Blair thought about and immediately rejected the idea of declining the captain's invitation.  He didn't think "No, I'd rather stand, thank you" would get him off to a good start at a reconciliation.  He steeled himself for the smart he would feel and sat carefully, managing not to show but the slightest evidence of discomfort when he sat facing the police captain.  "I came to apologize, Sir."

Simon Banks clearly saw the uncertainty in the younger man, obviously unsure how his presence and apology would be taken, if it would even be accepted.  He also picked up on the quickly suppressed signs of discomfort as the younger man sat -- lightning fast, for he recovered his demeanor immediately and offered the quiet and heart-felt apology.  Simon sat up straighter with a thoughtful frown, but kept his observations to himself.  "I see.  You must know I was not at all happy with you last night."

"Yes sir, I do know that."

"And neither was Detective Ellison."

"Yes sir, I definitely know that."

"Mm hm.  You nearly cost me a very important operation last night, young man.  The cost could have been enormous -- with people's lives at stake."

Blair hung his head.  "I know, Captain."

"We were all very lucky that things went as smoothly as they did.  You mostly have Detective Ellison to thank for that."

"Yes, I know."  He did.

"It could all have been avoided, Sandburg, if you had just listened to him in the first place."  His voice softened, just a bit, as he added, "He really does have only your best interest at heart, Blair."

Blair looked up at the captain, grateful to hear those words.

"Neither he nor I can stress to you enough the importance of thinking things through to their conclusion.  I hope you've learned something about consequences."

With a straight face he later congratulated himself on, Blair answered him:  "Yes sir, I believe I have."

Simon considered this, then nodded.  "All right.  Now.  On the matter of your grades."

Blair reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper.  He unfolded it and carefully laid it on the desk before Simon.  "I know you wanted to see proof I'd brought them up…"

He waited while Simon picked up the letter and looked it over.  Blair was glad he had thought to grab it as he and Jim left the loft.  He had made a point on Friday of getting a printout of the grade change form that had been made out on his two Incompletes.  "I'll have even more evidence on my other classes, probably in another week or so, Captain."

Simon handed the paper back to him.  "That won't be necessary.  I trust Jim will be keeping up with your progress."

"Yes sir, from now on I think."  He couldn't help the dry note that crept into his comment.

Banks didn't miss it, either.  He looked up sharply at the student.  "You've given him good reason to, Blair.  But the other side of that is, you're a very lucky young man to have someone so concerned about you.  Do you realize that a lot of young people don't even have that much care shown by their own parents?  And Ellison not only looks out for you in that way, but he's a good friend as well."

Blair mumbled a "Yes sir."  He had thought about all of that a lot since the evening before.  Simon was right -- he had far more than he deserved in Jim Ellison.

Simon reached into his desk drawer and withdrew Blair's observer's pass.  "I believe this is yours."  He handed it across to the younger man, who took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Simon.  I won't let you down again."

"I'm glad to hear it, Blair.  I don't necessarily believe it, but I do believe you mean it and that's the important thing right now."  His smile and lighter tone took the sting out of his words.

Blair smiled, thinking how similar Simon's reaction was to Jim's of that morning, when Blair had sworn never to lie to his Sentinel again.  With renewed determination to uphold his promises to both men, he placed his observer's credentials around his neck and accepted a handshake from
the captain, welcoming him back to the department.

THE END