It has been a long time, but then I've had this story idea for my Sentinel/Shaman universe sitting in my brain for a while. I've finally figured out how to get the idea down into print.

We don't know too much about Simon Banks, only that he wasn't originally from Cascade and his younger years were not ones of sports and typical youth activities. Like many of his age, he wanted to go to college, but I figured he was typical of many youth of that day. I decided that he would have used the military to get the Montgomery G.I. Bill to pay his way through college and be able to accomplish his dreams. While Jim Ellison having a background in the Army, and specifically in the Special Ops to fit his persona and give him the special training he needed to be a sentinel, I felt the Air Force would have been Simon's path. It would have afforded him more of an opportunity to use his brains.

A hearty 'Thank You' to Cindy Combs for being my voice of wisdom and guidance to keep many of the facts of this story straight.

More thanks and much gratitude to DebbieLD for taking time to beta the story and straightening my lousy grammar and sentence structure. Despite the many troubles RL kept throwing at her, she did a great job. Anything wrong found within the story is purely my fault. Sometimes I don't follow all the great advice given to me.

Finally, a large thanks to wolfpup for giving me a home to post my stories. When I am able to take time away from RL to write and post, sometimes having many months between stories, she never pushes me to crank them out and only shows delight when I tell her another is on its way.

This story is a crossover with "The District", and rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

MY FRIEND, BROTHER AND MORE



Shallan





Ballroom, Cascade Hilton Hotel

"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you again for attending tonight. I'm sure many of you have been waiting for this portion of the evening's presentations. For those of you who may not know me, I am Police Commissioner Craig Mathews, standing in for Mayor Carson. He was called away this morning for a meeting with our Governor."

"Gee, such a shame to not have our beloved Mayor here tonight," Detective Henri Brown mumbled quietly into the napkin he held up to his mouth. "Not!"

Detective Jim Ellison choked on the chuckle he was barely able to stifle and quickly grabbed his water to take a sip. Concentrating on the glass in his hand, he pretended not to see the glare thrown in his direction.

Captain Simon Banks focused his "cut that crap out" gaze onto his senior detective and then to the others sitting at the table, before returning his attention to the speaker. He knew one of them had said something at a level that only Ellison could have heard and the displeasure he was sending to said detective would eventually be spread to the perpetrator. It was obvious being a sentinel had its disadvantages, too.

Mathews was continuing his speech. "As many of you know, this portion of the program is normally reserved for the presentation of the annual Cop of the Year award to a deserving officer or detective. However, this year the recipient is a member of the management. We do have many fine members of our police force deserving accolade, but our selection for tonight has been long deserving of this recognition. A detective within his own division was very thorough in detailing his past history and current accomplishments. Captain Simon Banks, please come to the podium and accept the 2002 award for Cop of the Year."

A stunned Banks stared at the five men and one woman at his table who immediately jumped to their feet, grinning and applauding loudly. He watched as Ellison reached over and pat the back of his partner, Blair Sandburg, and knew who had been the 'detective within his own division'. The smaller, long-haired man had the good graces to meet Banks' gaze and blush slightly. Then he felt a hand under his arm pull him up to his feet.

"You'd better get moving before Commissioner Mathews comes after you, Simon," Captain Joel Taggart said, laughter bubbling out of him.

Turning his attention to the stage, Banks saw the slight nod the Commissioner gave and, adjusting his tuxedo, walked calmly forward. He hesitated slightly at the loud whistle from behind and made a mental note as he continued forward to have a long discussion with the young detective about proper decorum at these types of events.

The Commissioner reached forward and clasped Simon's hand. "Congratulations, Captain. I'll try not to embarrass you too much." Mathew's smiled at the grateful look sent in his direction and pulled Banks forward until he was standing at his side.

"Simon Banks came to the Cascade Police department directly after completing a 6-year tour with the Air Force. A security specialist who wanted to do something for his community, he applied for a job with the Cascade PD at a time when becoming a cop wasn't popular. Right, Captain?"

Banks grinned and shook his head at the memory of his family's reaction to his announcement of joining the police force barely a month after getting out of the service. His father was silent and his mother cried, but he knew they were both proud of his decision.

"His skills were recognized as something the city needed and he was accepted with open arms. He spent several years as a beat cop, but soon showed himself to be someone destined for higher places. He went to college at night using the Montgomery G.I. Bill, earning his first degree in Criminology and a place on the Dean's List. A few years later he received his graduate degree in Business Administration. It took him two tries, but he eventually passed the detective's exam and was awarded his gold shield. After working his way though several departments, he ended up as a lieutenant in the Major Crime division. After turning down a few chances to command other departments, he finally agreed to accept the rank of Captain if he was given Major Crime. Yes, he is obviously African American, and back then some said it was his race that got him the advances. However, I and others within the city's leadership, know he has earned every commendation and promotion through hard work, determination and being a damn fine cop. His skills and mentoring has produced many fine officers and detectives, one having received this same award a few years ago. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you, the 2002 Cop of The Year, Captain Simon Banks."

Watching his friend step forward to receive the award, Taggart leaned toward the smaller man sitting at his side. "Just how many laws did you break using your computer to get all the information for the package, Blair?"

With a look of innocence, Blair shook his head in denial. "Joel! I'd never do such a thing. The Privacy Act is very explicit about the penalties one can incur if they use a computer to access anyone's personnel file but their own."

"He's telling the truth, Joel," Ellison confirmed. "Now if you were to ask how many dinners and other such amenities he showered onto some of the employees down in Personnel..."

"Sandy!" Megan scolded, but she quickly joined into the laughter with the others. Henri whispered into the ear of his partner, Detective J.E. Rafe, and the two roared with laughter. Jim joined in as he'd easily heard the comment concerning Blair and one of the elderly women in Personnel.

"Blair, man, am I too late?" a breathless voice asked.

"Nah, you just made it." Sandburg looked up at the tall speaker and smiled. "Your dad is accepting his award now. Glad you could get time away from college, Daryl."

Daryl Banks nodded and stepped around the table until he reached the empty chair next to the place his father had vacated. "No sweat. As if I'd miss the chance to see my old man get this award. Hey, everyone. Thanks for the invite."

"Shh!" Connor hissed at the two talkers with a scowl on her face, then turned her attention to the podium.

Pictures were still being taken of Mathews handing the plaque to Banks. With the last flash, the Commissioner gestured toward the microphone, then moved until he was out of the spotlight. Nervous and a bit embarrassed, Banks looked down at the award in his hands before stepping forward.

Clearing his throat, he jumped slightly when the noise was amplified by the sound system. "Sorry. Uh... Thank you, Commissioner Mathews and members of the Cascade City Council for this award. I really wasn't expecting such an honor. While I do hope at times--"

"I'll say," Rafe commented to the others at the table. "I thought for sure he said he wasn't going to come."

"He wasn't until Rhonda told him about the Mayor's requirement for all police captains to attend." A mischievous twinkle could be seen in Connor's eyes despite her solemn expression.

The statement caused Taggart to quickly swallow the mouthful of iced tea he'd just taken to prevent him from choking. "What requirement? I wasn't told about that?"

Megan just smiled and returned her attention to the final words of her boss' speech.

"...and I can only say that I am successful because of the dedicated and hard-working men and women with whom I have the pleasure to work with each day. Again, thank you for this honor." With a slight bow, Simon picked up his award and took a step back from the podium. The clapping started up, the loudest again from the direction of his table. This time he heard a familiar voice call out "way to go, dad" and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light shining on him. The recognition of the owner of the voice caused a large smile to spread across his face.

Quickly shaking Mathews' hand one more time, Banks stepped from the stage and made his way quickly through the crowd. "Daryl!" he called out just before his son engulfed him in a tight hug. The two were almost the same height, of which neither took notice. When they finally parted, he took a step back. "What are you doing here, son? Did something happen at school? The semester isn't over yet, is it?"

Young Banks laughed loudly and pulled his father down into his seat. "No, Dad, nothing has happened and I've still a little bit to go before the holiday break. You don't think I would possibly pass up the chance to see you finally get the recognition you should have received long ago? Uh, huh!"

Simon grinned in foolish pleasure then quickly dropped his face into a scowl and turned towards the others at the table. "Which means the knowledge of me getting this award had to have been received at the precinct a while ago. Tell me how, Sandburg."

"Captain?" Blair tried to look innocent and a little scared at the growling words directed at him, but failed. He started laughing, which deepened the frown on Simon's face.

He was saved by his partner. "The only one who knew the selection in sufficient time to make any arrangements was Rhonda. And you know why, Captain." Ellison nodded toward the head table where the topic of their discussion was leaning over to hear something spoken by her date, Commissioner Mathews.

"Oh. I guess I'll have to let you off the hook this time, but don't think you're going to get away with putting me in for this award. It's supposed to be for the workforce, not those of us in management."

"Ah, come on, Dad," Daryl spoke up. "From the stuff I read, there were several times you should have gotten the award when you were a beat cop, much less a detective. You know the only reason you weren't recognized is because you are a black man and it just wasn't done then. About time they made up for past wrongs."

"Long overdue," Ellison voiced in agreement and raised his beer bottle. The others at the table quickly followed the action with their own drinks. "To Simon Banks, one hell of a policeman and the best damn boss in the city."

"Thank you." Banks grabbed up his own glass and took a quick drink to force down the lump in his throat. After the others finished taking a drink, he asked, "What else is on the agenda? I feel a need to celebrate tonight in a place that frowns on tuxedos."

"Nothing we need to stick around for, Simon. Let's go." Standing up, Taggart reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. "I'm the DD for anyone having more than one drink tonight."

The rest of the group quickly stood and headed for the exit. Once outside, they started to separate and head towards their cars. Taggart was already moving across the street towards his SUV with Brown following, and Rafe and Connor started up the street to the right.

"Simon, I hope you aren't really too up--" Blair started but was interrupted.

"Sandburg, hold it right there." Simon held up his hand. "I'm thirsty and really want to go have several drinks with my people and my son rather than stand here on the sidewalk in the chilly night air. You can grovel your apology in my office Monday morning when I have an hour or two to spare. Get my drift?" A small grin hovered around the edges of his mouth as he watched the other man's jaw drop.

Jim laughed and, throwing his arm around his partner's shoulders, swung Blair around and started pulling him down the street. "Let's go, Chief. I hear a beer calling my name and it's your turn to be my designated driver. We'll see you at McCarty's, Simon."

"Wait, Jim. Why is it my turn? It was my turn last time."

"Because I'm the senior partner and I say it is. Handle it, Sandburg."

Simon laughed as his two arguing detectives continued walking away and reached into his jacket pocket for the cigar he'd stuffed there earlier in the evening. He knew the two men were closer to each other than brothers and sometimes their disagreements showed that blatantly.

"Come on, Dad."

Shaken from his contemplation, Simon turned and started to follow his son across the street. He wasn't aware of the vehicle at the end of the block starting up, pulling away from the curb and accelerating towards him.

Someone else was, however. Reacting to a feeling he wasn't quite able to understand, Ellison opened his senses, heard the engine turn over and the sound of tires screeching against the pavement as the car took off. The hairs on the back of his neck had been tingling earlier, telling him that someone had been watching their group, but had ignored it. Seven men in tuxedos, another in a dress suit and a woman in a semi-formal gown standing and laughing on a sidewalk would draw attention.

Suddenly, Ellison swung around and starting running back toward his boss. He saw Banks moving to the middle of the street and the car heading straight for him showed no intention of slowing down.

"Simon!"

Hearing the shout, Banks stopped and, unfortunately, stood near the middle of the road. He heard the sound of the car at the same time that the headlights flared on, blinding him. The rest seemed to be in slow motion. He heard his son shout "Dad!" and thought that he should try to get out of the way, but his body didn't know which direction to go. The car continued toward him, getting closer, and the urge to move appeared in his mind again. Then a solid object slammed into his body, shoving him out of the way. The car roared past and swerved wildly as it took the corner without slowing down.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked, pushing himself off Simon's body until he was kneeling beside him.

Dazed, Banks looked around to see an angry but concerned Ellison leaning over him, a horrified expression on his son's face as the youth collapsed to the ground by his head and the rest of his people from Major Crime all running toward him. "What in the hell?"

"Don't move, sir. I hit you pretty hard and we need to find out if you're injured." Jim brought his hands up and started checking around Simon's neck and shoulder area.

"Geez! That guy was moving." Blair came up behind his partner and automatically placed his hand on his shoulder. He knew Jim was using his senses and gave him the stability needed to do a deep scan. "I tried to get a look at the license plates, but either he didn't have any or they were blacked out. Jim?"

Ellison knew what his friend was asking and leaned back, extending a hand. "I can't feel any neck or spine injury. Want to try to sit up, sir?"

Banks normally would have refused the offer of assistance as he was always someone who insisted on taking care of himself, but the sincerity of the offer and knowing who had made it had him clasping the hand before he knew it. "I'm okay, just shook up a bit. Help me up."

"Shit, Dad! I didn't even see the guy until Jim shouted." Daryl put his arm around his father's waist once the other was on his feet and held onto him as though the man was going to collapse.

Like a dam opening its floodgates, everyone started talking at once. Taggart wanted to call the incident in, Connor suggested that the Captain go to the emergency room and the other voices were all voicing their ideas on what had happened and why when Banks threw his hands up and shouted. "Hey!"

Everyone quieted immediately at the bellow. "I said I was okay. I should know if..." Simon's voice faded as his eyes lost focus and he swayed slightly. Blinking owlishly, he raised a hand to his head. "Whoa."

Daryl was standing the closest and was able to grab his father and steady him. "Yeah, right. I can see you're fine. Do you mind detouring over to the hospital, Captain Taggart? My father's changed his mind and we're going to the emergency room to get checked out. No arguments, Dad."

"But--"

"Ah, ah, Simon. Daryl has just made it unanimous." Taggart checked the others standing around Banks and saw them all nod in agreement. "Either you let us help you into my car without an argument or we'll sit you down and wait until an ambulance pulls up. Your choice."

Glancing around, Simon saw the determination on the grim faces, sagged slightly in defeat and sighed. "All right, you win. This time. But if they even suggest I stay overnight..."

Daryl grinned in triumph, but quickly straightened his face back to a solemn, concerned expression when his father turned to face him. "It's just a safety precaution to have you checked out. Promise, Dad." Holding on to Simon's arm, he helped his father toward the door of the SUV being held open by Joel. The rest of the group watched until the vehicle drove out of sight.

"Guess we better head out. Unless you think there's something here to check out." Connor's voice held a questioning tone and she was staring at Ellison.

The tall detective glanced around the area then back at the woman, his expression closed. "No, why? It was probably some drunk who panicked when he realized what happened and is now long gone."

Connor's eyes narrowed slightly, but only Ellison was able to see that. Turning to Rafe, she gestured in the direction they had been traveling before the incident. "Yeah, right. Let's go, mate. Any chance for a day off tomorrow just drove off."

"Need a ride, H?" Rafe asked after he took a few steps after his date and remembering with whom his partner had arrived.

"Thanks, man. See ya." Brown jogged to catch up with the two after giving the remaining two men a small wave.

"You didn't sound too convincing, Jim. It wasn't an accident, was it?" Blair had tucked his hands into his pants pocket and was turned in the direction Joel's van had disappeared.

"You tell me, Chief. How did you know something was going to happen?"

Surprised at the question, Blair swung around to face his partner. He opened his mouth to ask what Jim meant by that, but stopped when nothing wanted to come out. His eyes lost focus when he tried to think back.

Ellison placed his hand onto his partner's shoulder and guided the smaller man back across the street. "We were walking toward the car, discussing who was going to drive, and your body stiffened slightly. I felt something like fear coming from you and..."

Blair continued walking then stopped abruptly and looked up at his friend. "Simon. I knew he was in danger. But how? I know I didn't hear or see anything."

"Don't look at me, buddy. I deal with the physical, you're the one who handles the spooky stuff."

"Uh huh, man. I may handle some of the spooky stuff, but you still get to see into the spirit realm. Or have you forgotten about your big, black, invisible pussy cat? Is he anywhere around?"

"No, and he can stay invisible for all I care. So, you're not feeling anything now?" At the emphatic shake of his partner's head, Ellison sighed. "Okay, let's go home. Tomorrow we can do some quiet checking to see if there's anyone in Simon's past wanting to cause him some pain."

"Jim, he's a captain on the police force. There's probably a lot of people he's arrested or something that probably have a grudge against him."

"True, but are they around now?" Reaching their vehicle, Jim first unlocked the passenger side door then walked around to unlock his door. "Do you still remember the administrative passwords the computer tech let you borrow last month?"

Climbing into the '69 Ford, Blair paused for a few seconds before closing the door and grabbing the seatbelt. "Yeah, why?"

Joining his friend in the cab, Jim gave him a sneaky smile then turned his attention to starting the truck and taking care of his own seatbelt. Blair caught on to the question.

"Ah, I see. File searches using Administrator codes leave no trace of who was actually using them. Sneaky, Jim. Very sneaky."

"You taught me well, Chief."

Major Crime Division, Three Weeks Later

After carefully reading the last page of the document, Simon Banks picked up his pen and signed in the block that indicated his agreement with the report. With a relieved sigh, he tossed the paperwork into his outbox then took off his glasses and rubbed his face. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he almost groaned at the lateness of the hour as he looked at the small stack of folders still awaiting his attention. A hearty laugh outside his door made him look up at the figures moving around the bullpen. With a small smile, he stood up and grabbed his briefcase.

"You're a captain, Banks. Do what you know how to do. Delegate." Grabbing one of the files he knew he had to take care of himself, Banks placed it into his briefcase and locked it closed. With the rest of the files under his arm, he reached over, plucked his raincoat from the nearby coat rack and tossed it over his arm before he opened the door and walked out of his office. After only a few steps, he stopped and stared at the individual moving through the room.

"Sandburg! What are you doing here?"

Freezing in the motion of dunking a tea bag in the cup he carried, Blair looked up in surprise at the question. After taking a quick look around him, he continued forward until he was at his desk. "Uh, I'm working. It's me and Jim's rotation on the night shift, Captain."

"What I mean is what are you doing here at work? I thought you were on medical leave." Moving toward his man, Banks peered carefully into his face.

Smiling, Blair set his cup onto his desk and waved his other hand in a dismissing way. "Oh, that."

"Yeah, that. Tumbling down a flight of stairs and getting a head injury in the process requires down time for recovery."

"And I was, down, that is. Unlike what some people think," Blair paused to look in the direction where his partner was sitting and threw the man a withering glare, "I do follow doctor's orders. I have the release, if you'd like to take a look at it. Some think it might be forged or something."

As Blair dug a hand into his pocket, Jim cleared his throat, stood up and, grabbing his own coffee cup, quickly walked toward the break room.

"Didn't want you to come in tonight?" Banks asked, holding his hand out for the paper Sandburg produced.

"You would have thought I had been critically injured and ready for my death bed. It was a small bump on the back of my head, Simon. I hurt my, um, dignity more than anything else, since it was the more padded part of my body that made contact with the stairs." Blair dropped his head and blushed slightly.

Trying to help catch a loose pet escaping down a set of stairs at a local mall while on a stakeout, he'd slipped on something that had dripped onto one of the treads. Luckily he'd been able to stay upright in a seated position on his way down. But the excited animal had made a small mess at the bottom and, not paying attention, he'd slipped in the small puddle and went down again. That time, because he was stiff and sore from the first fall, he wasn't able to catch himself and fell flat, smacking his head onto the tiles. His vision had grayed out for a short while, but he didn't experience any unconsciousness. Something he had been arguing about with his partner since then.

"Never thought you'd pick up another mother when you met Jim, did you?" Banks said quietly as he quickly glanced over the medical paper then handed it back. "I would have punched him out a long time ago."

"It's not so bad. I have a long memory and you know Jim's turn will come up again." Blair flashed his superior an evil grin then picked his cup of tea back up. "So, you finally gonna to get out of here? Your pseudo-mom looked like she was going to chase you out of your office when she left a half an hour ago. Luckily, Taggart headed her off at the pass."

Both men glanced over at the empty desk closest to Banks' office. "I'll have to talk to that woman about who is the boss around here." With a determined look on his face, Banks continued walking toward the door leading out of the bullpen.

"Yeah, she is," Blair commented softly, but obviously not soft enough. He saw Simon halt and turn back around.

Taking the files he'd tucked under his arm, Simon looked at them briefly then tossed them onto Blair's desk. "I was going to drop these off for Brown and Rafe to handle, but it looks like you need something to keep you out of trouble, Sandburg. They're reports about some missing VIPs. I want you to break them down and give me a thorough assessment when you come on shift tomorrow." Ignoring the shocked look on the smaller man's face, Simon turned and walked out of the bullpen. He could hear the light laughter following him until the elevator doors closed.

"Thanks, Hairboy," Brown said sweetly and gave his partner a thumbs up gesture.

Looking down at the pile lying in the middle of his desk, Blair sighed and reached down for the top folder. "Yeah, man. No problem. You're wel..."

Smiling, H returned his attention to his desk then looked up quickly when he heard a sharp, painful inhalation of breath from the direction of Blair's desk. The smaller man's complexion was fading to a pasty white and he was starting to shake. "Sandburg?"

Not getting a reply, Henri stood up and started moving toward Blair. "Rafe, go get Ellison," he quietly ordered his partner. "What's the matter, Blair?"

Not hearing the other, Sandburg continued to stare at the folder until Brown lightly grasped his arm. That contact brought the smaller man back to awareness and he looked toward the open door of the bullpen. Gasping Banks' name, he dropped his coffee mug and took off running. Reaching the elevator, he smacked his hand onto the call button, but saw that one car was sitting on the first floor and the other was heading down. With a muffled curse, he spun around and ran toward the stairwell, slamming the door open as he burst through it.

"Ellison!" Rafe yelled when he saw Sandburg take off. The dapper detective had already taken a few steps in the direction he knew the other had disappeared, but had to leap out of the way when the man came charging out of the room.

Brown started, "It's Blair--" The larger man was already racing out of the room.

Like his partner, Ellison went to the elevator first. Cocking his head slightly, he listened down the shafts for the familiar sound of Sandburg. Hearing the heightened heart beat and panting breath of the one he knew so well coming from off to his right, Ellison took off toward the stairs. He could hear that his friend was already down two floors and running recklessly down the next flight of stairs. What he wasn't able to hear was his name being called or Brown and Rafe following after him.

Walking up to his car in the underground garage, Banks pressed a button on his car key device twice. After hearing the clicks indicating all the car doors were now unlocked, he opened the rear one and tossed his raincoat and briefcase onto the back seat. Closing that door he reached for the handle on the front door then stopped. Realizing he had forgotten to shut off the coffee maker in his office, he reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. Unfortunately, the device showed that his battery needed to be recharged.

"Damn," he cursed and pressed the button to lock the car back up. He was walking back toward the door leading back into the precinct when it flew open with a resounding bang.

A harried Sandburg flew through the door, tumbling into the larger man. He clamped onto Banks' arms and got his balance back.

"What in the hell's the matter, Sandburg?" Banks tried to pull his arms away from the grasping hands, but they tightened almost painfully.

"Danger! Move!" Blair gasped and tried to drag the large man to the side and away from the door.

"What!?" Taking a few stumbling steps, Simon pulled back again and was able to stop from being pulled forward.

Reversing tactics, Blair suddenly threw all of his weight forward and shoved Simon toward some cars parked across the way. He was able to move the man several feet.

The larger man, already leaning back, was thrown off balance by the movement and stumbled in the direction he was being moved. He almost had his feet back under him, and was about to yell at Blair, when an explosion took his breath away and knocked him off his feet. Simon slammed into a nearby car and, before being knocked unconscious, saw Blair tossed into the air away from him.

Ellison knew his partner, guide and shaman had received a premonition, something that had thrown the smaller man into a panic. Their connection, the psychic bond they accepted between the two of them but didn't completely understand, allowed him to know that Sandburg was terrified for another and it wasn't him. Knowing that the young man would react first and not wait for him, Ellison raced after his friend.

He'd heard when Blair finally made it down to the garage and met up with Simon, but he also picked up a ticking noise. Jim was just pulling the garage door open when the ticking noise stopped and he caught the familiar scent of explosives in the area. Not even thinking, he spun his hearing all the way down and was saved from being deafened by the explosion that shook the building and tossed him back into the lobby.

Coughing and shaking his head, Jim pulled himself back to his feet and staggered back to the now warped door sitting slightly ajar. The force of the explosion had stressed one of the hinges, preventing the portal from closing properly. A jagged piece of charred metal was sticking out of it, nearly aligned with his head. Pulling the door completely back open, he peered through the heavy smoke.

"Blair!" Coughing at the fumes, Jim lifted his arm and tucked his mouth and nose into the crook of the elbow and stepped into the hazy garage. He could see the car on fire to his right and realized it was in the same area his captain parked his car. "Simon!" All he could hear was the blaring of the fire alarm, the shouting of those behind him in the building and the noisy blaze consuming the now destroyed vehicle. The sprinkler system flared on and soon the smoke in the area thickened.

Reaching easily for the bond with his friend, Jim 'felt' Blair to his left. The younger man was still conscious, but Jim realized he'd been tossed like a rag doll and was feeling like one massive bruise. The Sentinel turned his eyesight up on high and cut through the smoke. He saw his friend trying to push himself up to his knees. Reaching his side, Jim helped him up and immediately started to check him over.

~cough~ "I'm... okay. Fi... ~choke~ find Simon. Over th-there." Holding his head with one hand, Blair pushed away one of Jim's that was feeling along his shoulder then pointed to his left. He coughed heavily, almost choking, but then took a deep breath and struggled to control his desire to retch. Seeing his friend still trying to check him over, Blair pushed on Jim's shoulder. "Go!"

Giving Sandburg one last look, the young man pushing his now wet hair out of his face, Ellison obeyed the order and rose up in a crouch. The car was still burning, the water from the sprinkler doing little to kill the fire. Keeping below the thickest of the smoke, Ellison again used his sight to make out the unmoving body of his superior. The man was between two cars, turned on his side.

Reaching a leg first, Jim felt for and found a pulse. It was steady, but slow, indicating that the man was unconscious. Utilizing his medical training, Jim checked out Simon's legs then moved up his body and continued his cursory examination until he reached the man's head. There was a large lump behind Simon's right ear that still bled slightly, but there didn't seem to be any damage to his neck or back. Moving him carefully onto his back, Jim found what he thought to be a crack along the collarbone. There was also a rib or two that also felt like they might be damaged, but they were definitely bruised.

"Ellison! Where are you?" Brown's voice brought Ellison's attention away from Banks.

"Over here!" Jim called back and watched the other peer in his direction then shuffle toward him. "Here, stay with him and keep him from moving if he wakes up."

"Paramedics are on the way. Where's Blair?" Trading places with Ellison, Brown shifted around until he was at his captain's head and placed a hand onto the man's throat. This way, he was able to monitor Banks' pulse and breathing.

Jim pointed back to his right. "Over there," he answered and moved away before the other could ask him any more questions. He could feel the pain Blair was experiencing and knew he had to get back to him.

Rafe had arrived and, taking off his jacket and folding it up, was trying to convince Sandburg to lie down. "Come on, Blair. Jim will kill me if you keel over and hit your head again."

"I've got him, Rafe," Jim assured the other man, moving to sit next to his partner. "H is over there between the two cars with the captain. He's hurt, but I don't think it's too bad. Make sure to watch out for the collarbone and cracked ribs." Jim knew he didn't have to pass that information; the paramedics would give Simon a complete, but quick, check before moving him. He was hoping it would take Rafe's attention away from Blair, which it did, and the young detective scurried toward the captain.

After Rafe left, Jim was able to do what he couldn't. He gently helped Blair lie back until he was resting on the suit coat. The sprinkler system was dying down and the firemen who had arrived when he was checking Simon over were now hosing the smoking hulk that had once been a car. "Easy, Chief. Just stay still until we get you checked over. You took another knock to the head, didn't you?"

Blair started to nod but changed his mind as the throbbing ache in his head threatened to make it explode. "Yeah, but you know how hard it is to hurt something that hard. Simon's okay?"

Jim was lightly touching around Blair's neck and shoulders. He could tell through the bond that the pain was growing in those areas. "He's unconscious, but I'm sure he'll be okay. You were able to get to him on time."

Blair knew Jim was confirming his earlier premonition, but he could feel that the danger was still there. Like a spring releasing, the tension flowed out of his body and he closed his eyes and brought his arm up to rest it across his eyes. The slight shake on his shoulder brought him back aware and he moved his arm. He saw his friend's anxious face staring down into his.

"Don't go to sleep, buddy. Until you get checked out, I want you to stay awake. I know that I can tell how you're feeling through our bond, but I'd rather have you talking to me."

Blair nodded carefully. "If they want me to stay overnight for observation, Jim..." He let the statement hang.

"I know, Chief. I can watch you better at home. But if Dr. Somers is on duty tonight, you know how she is." Ellison almost laughed at the grimace on his partner's face and knew if he did Sandburg would get upset. He was saved by the arrival of the paramedics. One pair obeyed Brown's shout for help and the other pair hesitated before moving quickly over towards Ellison.

Knowing his partner was doing okay, Jim shifted back to allow the paramedics plenty of room. However, he was insistent on riding in with Blair when they were ready to transport.

Emergency Room, Cascade General Hospital

Doctor Sherri Somers shook her head in dismay. Knowing she was going to get a strong argument from her patient, she took one more look at the X-rays before opening the door to the treatment room. "I don't know how you kept from cracking your skull this time, Blair, but the pictures are clean. Your eyes are equal and reactive, you are fully awake and aware and I can see the determination in your eyes. So I will release you to Jim's care. However," she cautioned, holding a hand up to stop any comments. When she knew she had his attention, she continued, "I am giving you something for pain, which I know you are in, and a light muscle relaxant. The areas around your shoulders and neck are tightening up even as we speak and you won't be able to move in the morning if you don't take these. I expect you to use both for at least 48 hours. Do you understand?"

Blair opened his mouth to argue, but was quickly silenced by a large hand over his mouth. Jim answered, "I'll make sure he does, Doctor. Is he free to go?"

Somers stared at the two men before her for several long seconds, then sighed in exasperation. "Yes, you can go. You know the routine and what to watch for over the next 24 hours. Now get out of here so that I can take care of people who are really sick." She turned to leave, but was stopped by Sandburg.

"Wait. Our friend Simon Banks, the one who was brought in at the same time, is he okay?"

She could see the genuine concern, combined with what looked like fear in Blair's eyes, and answered, "I'm not the one taking care of him, but I understand he's doing pretty good. He's down the hall in the last treatment room." Sheri smiled at the relieved look appearing on both men's faces then left.

"Okay, buddy. While I help you get dressed, why don't you start explaining the whole situation? I know what you felt, but give me the Reader's Digest version of what you saw." Grabbing his friend's shirt, Jim shook it out and held it up.

"Okay, let's see. Simon and I were talking at my desk and you beat a hasty retreat for the break room like a whipped -- Ow, Jim!" Blair scowled up at his friend and tugged at the shirt. "Careful. I'm bruised in more places than not."

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, though he didn't sound too contrite. "Just get to the pertinent part, Chief."

Reaching around until he could slip his other arm into the shirt, Blair shifted carefully until the cloth settled comfortably onto his shoulders. He tried to reach up and pull his hair out, but Jim took care of it before he moved too far. "Right, well, he was walking out, but turned back around and left some case files for us to handle."

"Us?" Jim raised an eyebrow. "He said they were for us?"

Blair nodded. "Well, yeah, us. We're partners, right? So that's what he had to have meant when he dropped them on the desk." He ignored the skeptical expression spreading across Jim's face and continued, "Anyway, after he'd left I picked one up and had this... it wasn't a vision, but it was pretty close and Simon was in the middle of it. I... it felt like he died, Jim, and it scared the hell out of me. It was as if a part of me was being ripped out. Not like it would be if I lost you, but..."

Ellison placed his hands on his friend's shoulders and held him as a shudder rattled the smaller body. "Easy, buddy. It's okay. You were able to get to him in time." He waited until he felt Sandburg was back in control then asked, "Did it feel anything like what you had... uh, felt with Mac?"

Blair started to shake his head emphatically, but changed his mind when the pain in his muscles surged. "No. This is different, cause I'm not seeing any type of black cloud hanging around him. Hell, I don't really understand how, but it is different. Thanks," he said when Jim helped him with his coat.

"Welcome. So, because the feeling was different, you felt you had a chance to change the outcome and ran down to the garage?"

"Yes -- no, I don't know. I guess I just reacted without thinking." Blair dropped his eyes in chagrin, knowing that he deserved getting chewed out for his actions.

Jim sighed. "I wouldn't have expected anything different from you." Becoming still, Jim tilted his head and opened his hearing. "Wait, I can hear someone talking with Simon. Sounds like his doctor."

"Cool," Blair said then, after placing a hand onto Jim's arm, sat quietly and waited. When he saw a frown appear, Blair asked, "What's he saying?"

"Simon. You can't just brush this off as another accident. This is the fourth time I've seen you in here in two months and I haven't checked to see if there were any other incidents. The first two can be explained away as possible accidents and even the event three weeks ago might have been ignored as a simple accident. But this is serious. You could have been killed. It has to be reported officially."

"No, George. If this gets reported, other agencies will get called in and the guy will just crawl underground. That can't happen this time."

"You know who it is? Then why--"

"I don't know who exactly, but if it is who I think it might be... but it can't be him. He hasn't been in any condition to do anything for years."

"Simon--"

"Please, George. I'm just asking for some time."

~sigh~ "Forty-eight hours. That's all I can give you. I'm off duty for the next 2 days anyway, but when I get back, I'll have to file the report."

"Thank you."

Ellison had been giving Sandburg a synopsis of the conversation, his frown growing as it came to an end. "Come on, Chief. Sounds like this and the near miss a few weeks ago are only the tip of the iceberg. I think we need to have a conversation with our captain." He assisted his friend down from the examining table then strode out of the room and down the corridor to where Banks was being treated. The doctor was standing with the door open, facing his patient.

"You're not going to be too comfortable for a few days, so I suggest you take some down time and allow the healing to start. I'll leave your prescriptions at the desk." The man stood gazing into the room for several seconds then, with a shake of his head, he turned and left.

"How is he, Doctor... Carson?" Jim asked, reading the name on the man's badge

Looking first at the stern man in front of him, then at the smaller man appearing at his side, he asked, "And you are?"

"Detective Jim Ellison and this is my partner, Blair Sandburg. The captain is our superior."

Carson studied the two men carefully then glanced back at the room. Shaking his head again, he closed the folder in his hands before saying, "He's checking himself out, AMA. He said he will have someone who will be able to give him a hand until he gets use of his arm again, and he'll need it. Other than that, you'll have to ask him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've other patients to see." The doctor brushed past the two as he stomped away from the exam area.

Jim watched the man leave then turned to his partner. Blair raised an eyebrow before looking toward the door. With a nod in agreement, Jim opened the door and walked in with Blair close behind.

Banks was struggling with his shirt, trying to find a way to get it on and around his shoulder. While there weren't any wrappings around his ribs, there was heavy bandaging around his left shoulder and a sling for his arm to keep it immobile. A bright white pad was taped behind an ear, covering the injury there. Hearing someone enter the room, Banks looked around to see his men then returned to his shirt. "Great, you're here. Give me a hand with this so we can get out of here. You okay, Sandburg?"

"I'm fine, Simon." Blair's voice was low.

"He says he's fine, but how should he be with this happening so soon after his last head injury?"

Jim's voice was hard and accusing, causing Simon to look up sharply at the man. The icy blue gaze aimed at him displayed unspoken volumes of accusations, causing his own defensive nature to rear up. "What crawled up your butt and died, Ellison?"

"When was the first attempt on your life?"

"What are you talking about?" Banks turned his attention back to his clothes, avoiding having to look at his men.

"Your doctor said there were two other times that he'd seen you for mysterious injuries." Ellison shifted over until he could lean against the wall and cross his arms over his chest.

Banks pointed his finger accusingly at his detective. "That was a private conversation. You had no right listening."

"And you have the right to put my partner in danger by not telling us you have a stalker?"

"If he hadn't stuck his nose into my business and tried to stop me, neither of us would be here. I would have been at the door and the blast would have just pushed me into the building."

"Well, you're right about one thing. Neither of you would be sitting here in the emergency room. You'd be in the basement morgue and some funeral director would be trying to figure out how to reattach your head. A two foot length of your car is embedded in the garage door right about at the level your neck would have been."

Simon's eyes widened slightly at the statement, but he wasn't ready to let Jim win the argument. "You still should have allowed me privacy with my doctor."

Blair snorted and smiled slightly. "Come on, Simon. This is Jim you're talking about. He hasn't been able to respect another's privacy ever since he learned how to focus his hearing." His expression sobered when Simon turned his glare onto him. "Besides, man, we're your friends and more. Doesn't what we've shared mean anything to you?"

Banks knew he'd lost the battle when the whipped puppy look appeared in Sandburg's eyes and his voice quivered. With a sigh, he leaned back against the gurney at his back and rubbed his eyes. "It started a little over two months ago. I thought the first one was a nasty trick by one of the kids living in the building, a trip wire across my stairs. The light in the hall had been disabled and my attention had been diverted."

"Oh, yeah. I remember. You said you'd started a new weight lifting program and had sore muscles. Good one." Blair grinned at the idea of how easily he'd been fooled, but quickly sobered up when Jim cleared his throat and gave him a sidelong glance. "Ah, but not nice to lie to your friends."

"And the second one?" Jim asked.

"At that rally I was at with the police chief. The area on the viewing stand where I was supposed to sit was rigged to collapse. It did, but I wasn't hurt that seriously. Another one that seemed like just an accident at the time."

"What showed you that it and the others weren't just accidents?"

"I started receiving things in the mail, pointing back to the time I'd first joined the force: a photo with me and a friend going through the academy, the graduation announcement and a newspaper article of the first big bust that I was involved."

Blair spoke up, "And after the near miss?"

"A medal like the one I'd received from that first bust was hanging from my door knocker with a one-word note attached to it." At Ellison's raised eyebrow, he finished, "It said 'hero' and had a question mark after it."

"Sounds like an old vendetta to me. So who were you telling the doctor it couldn't be?"

Banks frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just how long were you listening, Jim?"

"Don't get defensive, Simon." Blair raised his hands up, palms outward. "If you don't want to tell us, just say so. But there's no way I'm going to put up with a pissed off Jim around the loft. So while I'm down with this injury, I'll have nothing to do but surf the Internet and..." He raised an eyebrow at the implication.

"Blackmail is illegal, Sandburg."

"So is withholding evidence in a crime, but who am I to quote the Regs to the Captain of Major Crime." Blair gave Simon a smug look.

~sigh~ "Let's get out of here and go to my place. It is almost dawn, the story is a long one and I want some good coffee in me before I try to explain it all."

With a nod, Ellison stepped forward and helped his superior finish dressing then escorted both men out of the hospital. None of them noticed the man standing across the parking lot taking pictures as they exited the doors and climbed into the police cruiser.

"Fred Danielson and I got out of the Air Force at the same time. We'd met up when we both were pulling our long tour in Japan, surprised to find that both of us were from Washington State and heading back once we'd finished the tour. We both knew our futures weren't for us to be 20-year men wearing a blue uniform, but we still wanted to serve in some way. So, after we were discharged and back in the States, I decided to move to Cascade. He helped me find a place then studied for and took the Cascade police entrance exam together." Banks rotated the coffee mug in his hands, staring at the rippling dark liquid.

He had the three of them brought back to his apartment by one of the uniform officers who had followed the ambulances to the hospital to get their reports. Once there, Banks had spent time grinding coffee beans he'd stored in the freezer then preparing a full pot of coffee.

"Danielson? One of The Danielsons, logging, steel and shipping?" Jim raised an eyebrow at the announcement. "I remember my father talking about them a few times."

"One in the same. Fred wasn't the dutiful son his father wanted him to be. Joined the Air Force as soon as he'd turned 18 and then decided to become a common policeman after he got out."

"Considered a disgrace by Dad?" Ellison asked, remembering the decisions he'd made about the direction he decided to take with his own life. He didn't expect an answer, but the quiet "yeah" in reply told him enough.

"But you both passed the exam and were accepted, right?" Blair interrupted with a bright smile.

Simon grimaced and rubbed his nose. "No, not quite. Yes, we both passed, but the police department was trying to be innovative with increasing the minority representation in the force. Our scores were pretty close, and Fred was a better marksman than me, but I was selected on the first go around. Fred had to wait until the next class. That was almost a year later."

"And he resented you for that." Jim tossed in, trying to complete the picture being drawn.

"No, actually he didn't, though others tried to convince me to change my career direction and clear the way for Fred. I think his father tried to convince him it was for the better and get him to join the business, but Fred was a stubborn cuss. He still didn't want his father to run his life and he helped keep others from rearranging my face. He just bided his time until he could get into the academy and eventually became a patrolman like me."

Silence reigned in the kitchen. Ellison and Sandburg could both see that their supervisor was deep in the memories of his past and they weren't willing to interrupt him. After a couple of minutes passed, Banks took a deep breath and continued. "Fred and I were like Frick and Frack when we were in the service. What one of us didn't think of, the other did, and that got us into a little trouble a couple of times. That didn't really end when we changed into the police uniforms. Yeah, we had different partners and patrolled different areas, but we weren't working all the time. We started to spend our spare time in some of the barrios, trying to work with the gangs and stop the drug trade from getting a foothold. At one point we decided that we wanted to do more, but we knew we'd have to move up into the detective ranks and that would take college degrees. Fred had started college before he'd joined the Air Force, and during the time after he got out before going to the academy he'd spent finishing it up. I'd also taken some courses before, but I couldn't afford to do it full time."

"There's nothing wrong in getting a degree through night school, Simon. Not every one can afford the costs on their own or have the brains or are special enough to be offered grants or scholarships."

"Are you looking down your nose at me for having to take night school, Sandburg?" Banks glared at the smaller man, though he struggled to keep the smile from his face. He was well aware of the intelligence of his newest detective and how far the young man had made it through college before they'd even met.

Surprised at the question, Blair sat back in his chair and held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, no way, man. Others might think that part-time college students are lower class, but you know I look up to you. I just got lucky and was able to bluff my way into Rainier at an age earlier than anyone was normally allowed and convinced them to give me a TA position. But hey, you're a Captain of a very important division in the police department and one of the youngest in the whole precinct. But with me..." At the chuckle that escaped from Jim and the slight smirk he could see that Simon was trying to keep from showing, Blair realized he was being razzed and blushed slightly. "Gee thanks, guys. You know I so love the taste of my own foot."

"For such a bright man, Chief, you do seem to have the need to speak out and get your two cents in every conversation." Jim saluted toward his partner with his coffee mug then took a drink.

Simon, however, relented and took the smaller man off the hook. "I know what you meant, Sandburg and you're right. It did delay my opportunity to take the detective's exams, but I've always been the type to earn everything I've gotten. Fred passed the exams before I did and, much to his father's chagrin, stepped into the plain-clothes force. He wanted Vice or Narcotics, but got the Juvenile division. He was too clean-cut and always looked younger than his years."

"But when you passed, you were put into Narcotics. Right? Tall black man would fit better into that world than a baby-faced white guy. The only reason I got into Vice was because of my time in the Rangers."

"That and your bad-assed attitude, Ellison. The diamond stud and goatee didn't hurt you, either. And you were right about Fred. Definitely had a look about him that would have gotten him killed or kidnapped into the brothels in nothing flat." Banks looked at Sandburg closely, causing the younger man to squirm slightly. "Sort of how you looked when you first graduated the academy, Sandburg."

"What happened to Fred?" Jim asked, wanting to bring the story up to a point that would explain everything.

Understanding the silent request, Simon nodded. "It was a bad bust, one that I missed... fortunately for me. It took some convincing, but Fred was finally able to join me in Narcotics and we were finally doing what we always wanted to do together, getting rid of drug dealers and forcing the unsavory element to keep a watch over their shoulders." Simon stood up and walked over to the coffee maker to pour himself another cup. He gestured with the pot to the other two, offering them a refill, but both men shook their head. Filling his own cup, he put the pot back but continued to stand at the sink, gazing out the window. "It was a big operation, combining both Vice and Narcotics. Fred and I were part of the team that was going to be on the front line. We were to make the contact, get the deal going and be the witnesses to help get the convictions. Unfortunately, I came down with the flu. I was sicker than I'd ever been and had been forced into going to the emergency room by my captain just before we were supposed to go in. I wanted to complete the operation then go, but they threatened to handcuff and drag me off. Fred finally convinced me that Roswell and he would be able to handle it."

"Roswell?" Blair asked.

"He was from Narcotics, and I didn't like or trust him. He was a hot head and had a problem working with my kind."

"Tall, intelligent officers who tended to think before jumping into situations?" Blair could sense the hand swinging toward the back of his head, but only braced to accept the hit. It was a light tap in consideration of his current medical condition.

Banks turned his head just in time to see Jim complete the action. He knew the younger man was trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, right. That's the type. Roswell was more than happy about me not being there, but smart enough not to voice his opinion. Fred and I had started getting a reputation with our unit, being able to complete operations with little or no violence, talking the situations down rather than having fire fights. Roswell's attitude was to kill them all and let God sort out the souls."

"So instead of it being a successful operation with lots of arrests, it turned out to be a major fire fight with losses on both sides. I remember hearing about that one. It was still being talked about when I joined. There was an explosion and fire, wasn't there?" Jim asked.

Simon closed his eyes and dropped his head. "Yeah, and Fred got caught in the middle of it. You know how it all finally played out."

"Yeah, I do." Ellison and Bank's eyes met in silent communion.

"I don't. So what happened? Was Fred killed?" Blair interrupted.

Banks turned toward him and answered, his voice full of sadness. "No, that would have been a blessing. Instead of waiting for the arrival of all the players, Roswell decided that the ones currently there were big enough game and gave the code phrase for the sting to happen. Then, like an idiot, he pulled his own gun and tried to take down one of the dealers himself. He was lucky and was killed almost instantly. Fred was wounded and used as a hostage until some jerk used a 'flash bang' grenade. He lost part of a leg, was wounded in the head in the resulting explosion and was severely burned. He was never the same."

"Where is he now? You told the doctor that he wasn't in any condition to be a part of this." Ellison finished his coffee and placed the empty mug in the sink.

"He was in that extended health care place just north of town for the longest time, but he wasn't getting any better. The last I'd heard, his father had him at this new place down near Portland. That was about a year ago. I used to be able to go see him about once every month or two, but when Mr. Willis moved him, I haven't been able to get down there." Jim raised his eyebrows at the evasive answer.

"Do you think Fred might blame you for not being there?"

Blair's question startled Simon, making him stare at the younger man before asking, "What in the hell do you mean?"

Blair held up a hand. "Think about it for a moment, Simon. You and he were partners of a sort, close friends for sure. This would have been a major bust for the both of you and you came down sick. He had to go in without you and, because of your absence, ended up nearly getting killed. As it is, his career ended while he was in his prime, he's a cripple and has had to have constant medical care. You have gone on with your life, had more successes, are now the captain of Major Crime, honored now as 'Cop of the Year' and still have a future. Do you think it has now come to a point where he might be blaming you for what his life has become?"

"No!" Banks declared emphatically. Seeing Sandburg jump slightly, he toned down his voice. "No, he doesn't. I can say this because Fred doesn't have the mental capacity to even remember what happened. He remembers me from our time in the Air Force, but the time after that is gone."

Ellison sighed. "He would have been the most logical suspect. What about any of his family members?"

Banks rubbed his forehead. "Well... I don't think so. Fred was the first born and favored son, and although his brother would like for me to disappear from the face of the earth, I can't see them doing this stuff. If he'd died during the operation and thought I was the cause of his death, I might think otherwise, but the facts were provided to them right after it happened. The police commissioner even talked to Mr. Danielson about what happened."

"Anyone else involved with the operation that could have it out for you?"

"If Roswell had lived, I would have said him. He would have blamed me for anything and everything involved with the operation. Also, IA's final report put the blame on him and the Captain who'd been in charge. Roswell died during the bust and the Captain retired long before that. But why wait until now? It was so long ago."

"That's why you should have brought us in on the situation when it first started, Captain. We're not personally involved--" Blair cleared his throat just loud enough for Jim's sensitive ears to hear. Understanding the 'hint' his partner passed him, Jim added, "At least not in the way you are. We can quietly start looking into what happened without anyone really knowing we are and--"

"And I have the connections to get the case files without anyone knowing why," Blair said, this time speaking up for both men to hear him.

"Which one of the ladies down in records are you chasing now, Sandburg? I don't want you using anyone of them just to gather evidence." Banks pointed a finger at the smaller man, ignoring the innocent look the other was giving him.

Blair clutched a hand to his chest. "Simon, I'm hurt. I don't 'use' people for any purpose. I have friends everywhere and they are more than happy to help me when I ask. You might want to try it sometime and cultivate a few here and there--"

"Let's go, Chief," Ellison interrupted, hoping to stave off the perpetual argument between his partner and his boss. "The sun is up, you need to take your medication and lie down for a while and the captain should get some rest, too." Stepping behind his friend, he helped Sandburg stand up and moved him over to the door and the coat rack.

"Good idea, Jim," Simon growled, glaring at the smaller man. "You two are off duty for at least the next 24 hours and I'll take a similar amount of time." He added the second part when he saw his two men turn around, ready to argue with him.

"Thank you, sir. And we will find out what's going on. I'll call Joel and see if he'll get the bomb squad's report for us."

Simon frowned. "Do we have to get him involved?"

"Simon, he's been your friend longer than either of us. I think he'd be hurt if you didn't let him help. Besides, as a bomb expert, he might be able to give us an insight on the type of bomb used and possible suspects," Jim explained as he helped Blair with his coat and opened the door. "If it'll make you feel better, he'll be the only one of the Major Crime people we contact. But I have to warn you; the rest of the group isn't stupid. You don't allow dumb detectives to stay in Major Crime for any length of time and they may already be looking into your past cases to see how many are out and possibly gunning for you."

"Okay, okay. Go ahead and bring Taggart in on this, but only him. I don't want or need the whole lot of you clustered around trying to protect me. Now get out of here and let me get some rest." Banks gave the two men a shooing motion and turned toward his kitchen counter.

Closing the door behind them, Ellison helped his partner out of the apartment building and into the nearby blue Ford pickup. When he got in on the driver's side, he saw that Sandburg had his cell phone out.

"Should we call Megan first?"

Ellison turned the ignition key, starting the truck. "No, first call Taggart. I want to see the report on the bomb before Simon does. Then we have him call Connor and explain it to her. Remember? We said Joel would be the only one we'd contact. She'll brief Rafe, since she's almost moved in with him, and the two of them will let H know what's going on. They can also impress on him how necessary it is for the whole investigation to be kept quiet and for Simon not to know they know."

"I'll threaten to not make any more of that special bread he likes if he even thinks of opening his mouth."

Ellison laughed. "You're a cruel man, Chief. A cruel man." Shifting the gearshift into forward, he pulled to truck into the traffic and drove away.

Next Day, 852 Prospect

Joel Taggart, former captain of the Cascade bomb squad and now assigned to the Major Crime division, topped the final step to the third floor of 852 Prospect and paused to take a breath. He'd lost weight a couple of years ago, which made him feel younger and his life easier when it came to exerting himself. But then he would come to Jim and Blair's place and realize that climbing three floors worth of stairs, especially the ones in this building, reminded him that he was getting older and weight loss alone wasn't the answer.

"Maybe we just need young guys like Blair to stop reminding us how old we are," he mumbled as he adjusted his coat and started toward the door displaying the numbers 307. He raised his hand to knock only to have the door open to reveal Jim Ellison smiling broadly at him.

"Wishing for Blair to get older doesn't help us feel younger, Joel. Frankly, I don't think he'll ever get any older because he's an elf or something." Stepping back from the door, Ellison made room for Joel to enter. "He's still asleep, so let's keep it down, okay?"

"I now know why Simon curses at you so much when he has to come over here. You're listening to us talk to ourselves climbing those lousy stairs and don't allow anyone the opportunity to knock, do you?" Taggart handed over the folder he was carrying then removed his overcoat and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs. "And it's a portrait you should be searching around for, probably down somewhere in the basement since the two of you live in the attic. That's what Dorian Gray used."

"He'll just tell us it's his healthy lifestyle, or he'll start spouting some new age junk."

Taggart chuckled and looked at his watch. "It's almost nine in the morning. I thought you had Blair broke of the 'sleeping in' habit."

"Only when we're on the day shift. But even then he acts like he will sleep through tornados. When I have to drug him up... well, it's usually unpredictable. He won't be too happy, since I snuck the pills into his green goop."

Taggart snickered. "Damn, Jim. I thought he was the devious one."

"We both are, I'm just have more experience at it. Any problem getting this?" Jim held up the folder.

Walking into the kitchen, Joel opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a bottle of water. "Problems? Why would it be a problem for the former head of the bomb squad to get a copy of a report on the car explosion of the current Captain of Major Crime? They think I'm considering going back to that department."

"Are you?"

"Hell no! After working with you guys for so many years, I'd be bored to tears over there."

Jim laughed loudly, then quickly covered his mouth and turned to look at the door to Blair's room. He extended his hearing and could tell that the breathing and heart rate hadn't change. Both were of a man sleeping comfortably. Grabbing the mug of coffee he'd poured before going to answer the door, he gestured. "Let's take this into the living room."

Sitting on the loveseat, Joel opened his bottle. He allowed Ellison several minutes to read the report before commenting, "From the preliminary report, the perp used a Timothy McVie special mixture, which means we can't trace the explosives."

At the older man's pregnant pause, Jim looked up from the folder. "But?"

"The timer and detonator are standard Special Ops design. It was built to trigger the timer when he locked the door, with a delay of 10 to 20 seconds."

"After he locked the door?" Surprised, Jim scanned through the report. "Then whoever it is didn't want to catch him in the car."

"Bingo. It was designed to damage, not kill. Now the big question is why."

"And then there is the who. Hold on." Turning his head, Jim looked over his shoulder and waited.

Within a minute, the door to the room at the back of the loft opened and Blair stumbled out. His eyes were half closed and his hair was standing out away from his head. He paused, looked toward the kitchen, lifted his head and sniffed. "Fresh coffee, Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief. And we have a visitor."

Peering toward the living room, Blair smiled and waved his hand. "Hey, Joel. Uh, give me a minute." The bathroom door closed softly behind him.

Taggart laughed softly. "He looks like something the cat played with in the alley. You sure he's doing okay after..."

"Surprisingly, he wasn't hurt as bad as the earlier accident. But back to the explosion -- was there anything in the garage video?"

"Uh huh. According to the sergeant who reviewed the tape right after it happened, from the time Simon showed up until the explosion, no one was in the garage that shouldn't have been there. Though he did say that something happened to the picture for about a minute. I've got the video if you want to scan it." Standing up, Taggart walked over to his coat and shifted the material around until he was able to dig into the pocket. As he pulled out the cassette tape, the bathroom door opened and a more alert Sandburg walked out. His hair and face were still damp.

Walking slowly, Blair grabbed the mug Jim had left on the counter for him and filled it with hot coffee. There was also a small bottle of honey nearby. Softly saying "thanks, Jim", knowing his roommate would be able to hear it, Blair squeezed a healthy dollop into the mug. Pausing to grab a teaspoon from a nearby drawer, he shuffled into the living room. "What did I miss?"

"Not too much. How are you feeling?" Joel's voice contained the tone of a concerned friend. He returned to his place on the loveseat, but leaned forward and peered carefully at the pale face.

Blair gave the older man a reassuring smile. "I'm a little sore, definitely have some stiffness, but nothing that can't be resolved by a couple of trips to a massage therapist."

"And that would be... Terry?" Jim asked, knowing he didn't have the right name.

"Tina, man. She's a semester away from getting her degree as a licensed therapist and is always asking to work on me to practice her skill. She says I have some of the most interesting knots and really give her a challenge."

"Ah, that's right. You help her with her homework assignments."

Joel laughed loudly. "Now I understand why you still keep such close contacts with Rainier, Blair. Maybe I need to go back there and cultivate friends like you do."

Blair scowled at both men grinning broadly at him. "You both have dirty minds."

"And your point?" Jim raised an eyebrow. When the telephone rang, he leaned forward, grabbed the remote control for the television and VCR and passed it to Blair. "Here, Mr. Helpful. Make yourself useful while I answer that."

"This from the garage, Joel?"

Joel nodded. "We also found some type of a rigging attached to the ceiling across the garage, possibly for a camera. It was lined up with Simon's parking space. So whoever set the explosive was probably wanting evidence of what happened." Standing up again, he took the tape over to the television stand and pushed it into tape player after the system and television came on.

Blair pushed the 'play' button as he reached forward to pick up his glasses resting on the coffee table. He turned to look at his roommate after he heard the older man say 'Hello, Simon.' Hearing a quick inhale from Joel, Blair quickly looked at the television screen. It was fluttering, then the garage was once again being 'watched'. "What?"

"Back the tape up. I can't... just back it up," Joel ordered, shifting forward in his seat.

Obeying, Blair waited until he heard Joel say 'there' and started the tape forward again. The picture flickered as the tape started forward then showed the car-filled police garage. He watched for almost a minute then also leaned forward when a man appeared at the edge of the screen. He disappeared off the screen for a few seconds then the top of his head, showing eyes and nose, appeared. Then a hand covered the screen and the picture was cut off. Blair hit the pause button.

"Was that Jim in the garage?" Taggart asked, turning from the television and moving his gaze from Sandburg to Ellison and back again.

Blair fumbled with the remote and backed it up again until just before the figure appeared. "It couldn't have been Jim," he murmured softly, but shifted off the couch and shuffled forward until he was only a couple of feet away from the set. He became aware of another presence step up behind him and looked up to see Jim staring at the screen. He was still holding the telephone handset.

"Start it again, Chief." As the tape moved forward, Jim focused his sight on the picture and zeroed in on the figure when it appeared. "I wasn't in the garage. We parked on the street."

The picture froze when the top of "Jim's" head appeared at the bottom and the hand was reaching forward. "Look at the time, Jim." Blair pointed at the numbers at the bottom left-hand side of the picture. It read 2:53 p.m. "We were here and you were arguing with me about going in to work."

"We were having a discussion about you needing to take more time off because of your injuries."

"You threatening to lock me in the bathroom is not having a discussion, man. I won because I was going to fight you and you were afraid of hurting me."

"Guys!" Taggart interrupted. "Let's stick to the present. The eyes sure look like yours, Jim. I wish we could have gotten a full face shot."

The three men returned their attention to the television. The tape was backed up and restarted a couple of times before Blair finally spoke up. "We're all supposed to have doubles somewhere, but this is downright spooky, man. His hair is longer, and he's sporting some serious five o'clock shadow, but that could be Jim."

"Someone who looks close enough like me to fool someone who doesn't know me and only glances at the badge. Probably why he was able to get past security down to that area. Who'd think to stop one of our own and in an area where he has every right to be?"

Ellison's attention was jerked back when he heard Banks' angry voice. Raising the handset back to his ear, he said, "We've got a situation, sir. Pack a bag and be ready to leave as soon as Sandburg gets there... Yes, sir, I'm serious... Please, sir, just be ready to go as soon as he gets there. And don't open the door to anyone but him. We'll explain everything to you at the precinct... I understand."

Blair was already up and heading for his bedroom. "I know what you're thinking and I'll be ready in five, Jim."

Ellison slipped the phone receiver back into its holder and strode into the kitchen to retrieve his gun and handcuffs. "You and I need to get back to the precinct, Joel. If there's someone out there who looks enough like me, he could get access up to Simon's office."

Taggart was already moving towards his own coat. He dug into an upper pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call up there and see who's in and make sure they keep everyone out of his office until we get there."

Opening the door to the loft, Jim let Joel leave before him. Before he closed the door, he paused and said loudly, "We're leaving, Chief. Don't let him bully you into doing what he wants." Not waiting for an answer, he shut the door and hurried after Joel.

Moving as fast as he could with his body feeling so stiff, Blair came out of his bedroom, buttoning his shirt. Even though Jim was gone, Blair still answered, "Don't worry, man. I'll make sure you get at least 30 minutes before we show up."

Major Crime Bullpen

Ellison was standing at the door to Banks' office, studying the fixture intensely. Taggart was talking to the other occupants of the room.

"You didn't have to go into the office for anything this morning, Rhonda? No one has?"

Rhonda gave the older man a piercing look. "Joel Taggart, you know no one gets into that office when the captain's not here unless they come to me."

"Is it possible that, uh, Ellison could have been here earlier?"

"No, Ellison hasn't been in. He was on a 24-hour down time with Blair, or so Simon told me. What's going on, Joel?"

Taggart glanced over to see Ellison carefully open the door to the office. "Hopefully nothing. Excuse me." Giving the woman what he hoped was a confident smile, he walked over to the office and watched Ellison check out the room. "Anything?"

Jim shook his head. "The only things I can sense here all belong to Simon. Come on in."

Still being cautious, Joel stepped gingerly in and around the room until he was beside Simon's desk, his back to the windows. "So, we're pretty sure no one's set up another accident here. How can we make sure it stays safe? I mean we can't have security stop anyone looking like you from getting up here."

"I have a badge and I.D."

"And you're sure he doesn't?"

"I can make sure I have Sandburg with me anytime I'm here."

"What if he convinces Blair that he's you and escorts him in?"

Ellison smiled confidently. "I can guarantee you that wouldn't happen. Trust me, neither of us could be fooled by an imposter."

Taggart stared into the others eyes and saw the man's belief. With a nod, he picked up the telephone receiver. "I'll talk to the front desk and see if we can set up a briefing for all three shifts. What's the matter?" he asked when he saw Ellison's attention shift quickly toward the bullpen.

Jim was silent for several seconds, looked down at his watch, then grinned. "Watch."

Following the other's gaze, Joel saw the doors open and Blair back into the room. The small man was trying his best to slow the much larger captain down. "Thirty minutes?"

"Forty-five."

Taggart chuckled. "He must have taken the long way from Simon's place."

"That and used every trick he could think of to delay him. I haven't seen the captain that annoyed in a long time."

"And because of the condition he's in, only Blair could get away with it without being chewed up and spit to the side. The best part about it," Joel threw a sly glance at Jim, "is that Simon doesn't even realize what's happening."

The two men were not the only ones observing the situation. In the building across the street from the precinct, one floor up, a man had a pair of high-powered binoculars trained on the office. He also wore a headset attached to a parabolic microphone pointed in the same direction.

"I would be very interested in knowing how you and your partner could not be fooled, Detective Ellison," the man murmured. He shifted his attention and his equipment when he saw Sandburg enter the bullpen with Banks. "Another interesting question is how important are your men to you, Captain Banks?"

Lifting the small walkie talkie sitting on the window sill, the man pushed the transmit key and said, "Change of target. Window. Take it."

On the other end of the radio, on the roof above the other, a man lay prone at the edge. He shifted the rifle he held in his hands to point the weapon down at the office the other was watching when the order came over the radio lying next to him, and aimed.

"Si--Captain, please. We have to check with Jim to see if it is safe for you up here." Blair had tried to plant himself in Simon's way in the garage and also at the elevator. Each time, the larger man shifted him to the side and continued forward. Blair had only just been able to get into the elevator before the doors had closed. At the door to the Major Crime bullpen, only his hissing in pain when his shoulders were grabbed stopped the other from pushing him aside a third time.

"Sandburg, if you don't get out of my way, I'm going to have you arrested." Banks glared down at the smaller man.

"For what, trying to keep you alive? Come on, man. I'm only doing what you'd be doing if our positions were reversed." Taking a quick look over his shoulder, Sandburg saw his partner and Taggart watching the two of them. They both appeared to be calm and relaxed, which could only mean the area was okay. "There's Jim and Joel and it looks like it's safe."

Turning around, Blair started walking toward his partner. "Hey, guys. By your looks, I take it no one has been here?" He heard Simon muttering behind him.

Ellison opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when his hearing picked up the crackle of a radio. Turning his head and tilting it slightly, he heard the words "Change of target. Window. Take it."

Seeing his partner shift, Sandburg stopped abruptly. A cold chill ran down his spine and the feeling of danger aimed at the person behind him rose up in his mind.

Unable to stop, Banks bumped into the smaller man and had to grab him to keep both of them from crashing to the floor. His arms were suddenly full of a frantic man trying to turn around and push at him.

Ellison was turning the rest of the way around when he heard the last part of the radio order. "Joel!" Reaching forward, he grabbed Taggart's jacket and pulled him forward at the same time he heard the rifle shot. The glass in the window exploded into the office.

Taggart had recognized the stance Ellison took when he seemed to be listening to something only he could hear. He wasn't prepared for the man to turn to him with a look of horror on his face as he grabbed his jacket and yanked. Taggart was only pulled forward a step when the glass at his back shattered, and he felt the searing hot spear jab in his lower back. Fire burned down his left leg and it gave away, causing him to collapse. The last thing he remembered was Ellison dragging him across the floor until he was out of the office to one side of the door and something pressing down on the spot that hurt so bad.

As the man watching from across the way gave the order to his accomplice on the roof, he was surprised to see Detective Ellison react like he'd heard him. The large man reached for the target and moved him just as the shot was made. The action, along with the shattering of the window, prevented him from seeing how well his accomplice was able to do. Ellison had then pulled the target out of the office and his sight.

Shifting his gaze, the man focused on Banks. The sight meeting his eyes surprised him. Instead of the smaller man trying to protect the captain, as he had before the car bomb had exploded and as the two were entering the bullpen, Banks was covering Sandburg and pushing the smaller man to the side until both were protected by a nearby desk. Turning the microphone, he was able to hear the two men, with Banks almost sounding frantic.

"Jim!"

"Damn it, Sandburg, stay down. Ellison's not hurt. Were you hit? Are you all right? What's the matter?"

~groan~ "Nothing. I wasn't expecting you to do that. Where's Jim? What happened?"

Banks peered over the top of the desk, his revolver held ready. "Ellison! What's the situation?"

"Sniper across the alley. Taggart was the target. Took one in the lower back. Is Blair--?"

"He's right here. Don't worry, you know I'll take care of him. What in the hell is going on?"

The man turned quickly when he heard the door behind him open. It was his accomplice, holding his rifle case. "The car," he ordered and took off the headset. Without a word, the other left.

Picking up a briefcase that had been sitting at his feet, the man opened it and pulled out a photo. He placed it so that it leaned against the equipment and looked one more time at the precinct across the way. "Not much longer, Captain Banks. Soon it will all be over and you will have your answers." Leaving the door slightly ajar, the man walked quickly out of the room.

Ellison carefully wiped the drying blood from his hands with the antiseptic cloth the paramedics had provided him. They had arrived faster than what he'd expected, had Taggart stabilized quickly on a gurney and being transported to the elevator in no time flat. Henri Brown had taken a couple of uniformed officers over to the building next door and was expected back shortly. They weren't expecting to find the sniper, but hopefully the person had left some evidence behind.

"What did they say about Joel?" Banks asked, coming out of his office.

Jim glanced toward the elevator before answering. "Whoever the shooter is, he's good. The distance and trajectory tells me this guy knows how to handle a rifle and probably doesn't miss very often, if at all. If I hadn't pulled Joel away from the window, the bullet would have hit him mid-spine and crippled him. Maybe even killed him."

"But why Joel?" Blair asked.

Glancing around to make sure others weren't listening, he replied, "He wasn't the one the sniper was after. I heard a voice say the target was changed and indicated the window."

"Another message for me." Simon pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes.

"Captain?" The three men turned to see Brown entering the bullpen. In a gloved hand he held a plastic bag. A picture was resting inside.

"The shot was made from the roof. We found scratch marks along the edge and the impressions from a small tripod. This, however, was found in a room directly across the way. It was leaning against a very expensive parabolic microphone."

Reaching forward, Banks took the plastic bag and held it up. It was a picture of him standing with his son. Daryl was wearing a graduation cap and gown. His eyes widened. "Damn it!"

"Don't you keep that on your mantle, Simon?" Blair peered closer at the picture.

"Yes, but I don't remember if it was there this morning."

"You're not going back to your place, sir. Take him to the loft, Chief," Jim ordered, reaching in the office to grab Simon's coat. Handing it to his boss, he added, "We'll send someone to collect some things for you and find a safe house."

Banks crossed his arms over his chest. "Just how long am I supposed to hide, Ellison? Until this guy goes after another one of you to draw me out?"

Ellison met his superior's glare with one of his own and stepped closer. "What do you think you should be doing? Making yourself a bigger target so that he doesn't miss? What do we tell Daryl when he wants to know why we weren't able to protect you?"

Blair stepped between the two men, placing a hand on each of their chests. "Guys, guys! Chill out. This isn't the time to demonstrate who is the alpha male of the office." When the two men backed down slightly, and Jim took a small step back, Blair continued, "You're not hiding, Simon. You're changing your pattern and doing what he won't expect you to do, go off his radar."

Jim softened his tone. "Sandburg's right, sir. This guy seems to be waiting for us, waiting for you each time and we need to do something to shake him off. It will only be until we can get a better handle on who he is."

Simon held Jim's gaze for several seconds then accepted his coat when the other held it out. "I guess you're right, but only for a few days. Daryl was supposed to visit this weekend, but I'll give him a call and tell him to stay at the school. I'll tell him that I have to go out of town or something. Let's go, Sandburg." His posture sagging slightly, Simon started walking out of the bullpen.

Blair started to follow, casually placing a hand on the back of the taller man's arm. "I'm with you on that, man. Daryl would probably break all land speed records if he thought you were in trouble." Over his shoulder he called to his partner, "I'll call you when we get to the loft, Jim."

After the two were gone, Ellison wiped a hand over his face then headed for his desk. Rafe was sitting in his chair with a wide grin on his face. "Why are you grinning like that?"

"I thought the two of you were going to come to blows. Sandburg almost ended up as a casualty trying to stand between you guys like that."

Making a shooing motion with his hands, Ellison made Rafe move out of his chair so that he could sit down. "I try not to make career ending moves anymore. Sandburg might get stuck with either you or H as a partner."

"Improvement over you, I'd say."

Ellison peered up at the smug-looking detective. "Is there a reason you're risking bodily harm by trying to irritate me?"

Rafe flashed a smile then reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded papers and waved them in the air. "H and I finished researching those old cases Sandburg was able to dig out of records. The Captain had some pretty tough cases when he was younger, and there were some pretty mean characters involved, but we couldn't find anything in them that might have someone out for blood now. Well, there is Dawson Quinn, who still wants to skin him and you alive when he gets out of jail. But all in all, there really isn't anyone out on the streets that could be gunning for the Captain. He stepped into management almost 10 years ago. With all the operations he's been on since, the bad guys are still in jail. Anything before has been pretty hard to look into."

"I didn't think it was anything too recent since all of the 'messages' left behind have to do with that one drug operation involving Fred Danielson."

"Megan was doing the research on that one. I'm not sure if she had all the information put together yet. Captain Taggart was checking out the properties used in the car bomb. I don't know if he got anything more back. I'll check his desk."

Jim nodded. "Good idea. You might want to talk to whoever is handling the case in the Bomb Squad if you can't find anything on his desk. He might not have had time to pick up a current report."

"Will do."

He didn't watch the other leave, but Ellison did look up when he heard an accented feminine voice. He watched Rafe and Connor talking at the doors to the bullpen. A soft smile appeared on Rafe's face as Megan reached forward and touched his arm. Then Megan continued into the room as Rafe left.

Jim hadn't known when the detectives had started seeing each other, though Blair claimed he'd known the moment they started showing interest. When asked how, Blair calmly answered, "I'm a trained anthropologist, Jim. I've been observing people and their interactions for most of my life."

Smiling and shaking his head, Jim started shifting things around on his desk to push aside the cases he had been working. Glancing over at Blair's desk, he saw the small pile of folders that had obviously been tossed there by the captain. They were sitting somewhat orderly in the center of the desk, except for one that looked like it had been tossed down haphazardly. With a small suspicion raising in his mind, Jim leaned over and grabbed it.

Opening the folder, Jim's breath caught in his throat when he looked at a picture of himself. Or at least, the guy in the picture sure looked like him. The man's hair was longer than his, a length Jim hadn't worn since his days in Vice, and his eyes held a hardness that spoke of someone who'd been through one too many emotional hurts. I was this guy about 6 or 7 years ago. I'll have to tell Sandburg thank you a few more times.

Pushing the picture to the side, Ellison scanned through the fact sheet. D.C. cop, head of Internal Affairs. Huh, the bad-ass, don't-mess-with-me look fits perfectly. Disappeared six months ago. Lost one of his men during a case and took a leave of absence. Wasn't missed for almost a month. "Gee, I wonder why?"

"Why what, Jimbo?"

Looking up, Ellison saw Connor standing in front of his desk holding a small notebook. He wasn't quick enough to stop her from grabbing up the picture.

"Good Lord! That's you!" Connor exclaimed, switching her gaze between the photo and Ellison. A sly smile grew on her face. "Your past finally starting to catch up with you, eh?"

Jim snatched the photo back and placed it face down on the left side of the folder. "He's a D.C. cop, captain in their Internal Affairs division, who's been reported missing and yes, there is a resemblance. It's possible he's the one who set the explosive in the captain's car. No one would have questioned me being down in the garage in that area or even in the car."

"But you said he's a cop. He go rogue?"

"He doesn't sound like he'd be the type, but who knows. So why out here? I don't ever remember Simon mentioning knowing someone who looked like me, and you know he'd do that."

"Especially if the guy is I.A." The two shared a smile, no words needed to express their opinion concerning the police force's watchdog department.

"He has the knowledge to set the explosives the way he did," Jim said, again glancing through the information in the folder. "Demolition expert with the Marines, earning a few distinguished decorations along the way, and surprise, rated as a marksman with the rifle. Here we go; he was attached to the S.W.A.T. team before switching to I.A."

"He'd have to have that type of experience if he was the one who shot Taggert. Almost as good as you, Jim, and he doesn't have your skills." Megan gave Jim a knowing look, causing the other to grimace.

"So why does a decorated military veteran who has had a successful career as a cop go missing from his job on the east coast and end up here trying to kill the captain? If he was going to go off the deep end, why not in the city he knows? What is his connection to Simon? You got something, Connor?" Jim asked, seeing the other deep in thought.

"I remember something like this happening before, but not here in the states. Back home or maybe over in Europe." Connor held her hand out for the pages Ellison had been reading. When he gave them to her, she swung around and rested against his desk as she read the information.

"And?"

"It's familiar, but I can't remember why. All I know is that I remember reading about something like it." Handing back the pages, she started towards her desk. Stopping short, Connor turned back, ripped a few pages out of her notebook and handed them to Ellison. "Oh, this is the information on anyone still around from the old Danielson case. Those who survived the operation scattered into different departments and the ones blamed for the bungling of it are either dead or they retired out a while ago. And the captain's friend? Fred Danielson died over six months ago at that facility in Portland you told me to find."

Ellison sat up straight. "He's dead? The captain seems to think he's still alive down there."

"According to the manager, Mr. Danielson Sr. requested that no information was to be released to Simon Banks if he called, the bastard. Of course, I didn't tell them who my superior is and why I was calling. That's just plain mean, since the captain was his son's best friend."

"That was the problem. According to the captain, the senior Danielson pretty much blames him for his son joining the police force after they left the Air Force. The bad bust was just one more thing done to keep his son from following the path he wanted him to take. I think its time to talk to this guy and see just how strong his anger is toward our captain. The Danielson's are old money and a notch or two above my father's level. Probably have enough to purchase a contract. This guy from D.C. is the only odd factor."

"Or not. As I said, him disappearing when he did after what happened to him... I'll be right back. I need to look into a few things."

Jim watched Megan walk over to her desk, glance at her watch then pick up the telephone. From the numbers she began punching, he could tell she was making an overseas call. He knew he could listen in on her conversation if he wanted, but he knew she would come back and let him know what she found. In the meantime, Jim felt it was time to go talk to the elder Mr. Danielson.

The deadbolt on the door turned counter-clockwise to unlock the device. A second mechanical sound indicated that the second lock was being turned and the door to apartment 307 opened.

"Simon, you're worrying about nothing." Entering the room first, Blair turned and stepped to the side to allow his boss to enter the loft. Once the man was in, he closed the door and engaged the locks. "Cell phones are not allowed to be on during class and Daryl would not risk the ire of his professors by disobeying that rule. I used to be there and would confiscate a phone or two from those who thought they were so important that they had to have it all the time. Pretty soon they learned not to bring them to class or turn them off when I started. Dial his number again and leave a message for him."

With a sigh of exasperation, Banks waited until after the voicemail message ended then said, "Daryl, it's your father. Something has come up and I won't be able to get together with you this weekend. So, stay at the college. I know you and your friends will find a way to occupy yourselves there. I'll call you when I get back in. Love you, son." He then pressed the end button on the phone and put the device in his pocket. "I hate lying to him, even for something like this."

"You're not really lying, man. It is an important case and you aren't going to be home. Where's the lie? It's more like an obfuscation." Blair helped the man take off his coat and hung it on the rack beside the door.

"Sandburg, I don't agree with your usage of that word. To me, it's lying." Throwing the smaller man a glaring look, Banks wandered into the living area of the loft toward the windows and stood gazing out. "I shouldn't be here, hiding out like this. I should be out there hunting whoever this guy is down."

"I know you don't like to admit it, but you're a lot like Jim in this respect. He acts like a caged panther when he's forced to stand on the sidelines." Sandburg moved up to stand next to his boss and leaned against the glass.

Banks turned his gaze to his companion. "Don't you mean like a caged lion?"

Blair smiled and shook his head, "No, definitely a panther. Hey, want some coffee? I found this really smooth blend that Jim likes and it won't take long to make a pot. I'll call Jim while it's brewing."

"Yeah, okay. It looks like we may be here a bit and some coffee would taste good. But I'll make the pot. Knowing you, it'd be as weak as a day old puppy."

"Hey, I make a good cup of coffee. Just don't make it so strong that the spoon stands up by itself." Giving the larger man a broad grin, Blair grabbed the telephone and dialed the precinct and wandered back into the living room. When it sounded like Jim's voicemail was going to answer, he hung up and dialed a different number. There was an answer before the third ring.

"Hey, Jim... Yeah, made it here with no problems and no tails from what I could see... I do too know how to recognize a tail... Oh, you did? Then they must have used a different route, because they weren't here when we got here... You're going where?" Blair glanced quickly at Simon then turned away and lowered his voice. "Okay, just let me know what you find out. See ya."

Setting the receiver back down into its cradle, Blair walked back into the kitchen. Simon had a large grin on his face as he hit the button to begin the bean grinder. When he shut the machine off, Blair asked, "What's so funny?"

"You and Ellison." Banks shook his head. "You sound like two brothers talking together."

"Jealous?"

Freezing for a moment as he spooned the grounds into the coffee maker, Banks answered in a wistful tone, "Yeah, in a way. Back then, Fred and I were a lot like you two are now. It used to be that some looked down on a black man having a close friendship with a white man. Fred and me didn't care what others thought. We clicked the moment we met in the Air Force, got lucky enough to get the same duty stations before being discharged and stayed friends until... well, we're still friends in some ways and that's what counts."

Silence controlled the atmosphere in the kitchen for several minutes, each man in his own thoughts. The gurgling sound of the coffee maker finishing the brew cycle interrupted the quiet, shaking the two out of their reverie and pushing them into action. Blair went to the cupboard to grab two mugs and Simon opened a drawer for spoons. The coffee was poured and each prepared their cup; then the two men moved into the living room.

"I want to know something, Sandburg, and no obfuscation." Banks raised a hand and pointed at the smaller man. "Twice at the station you were trying to get me out of harm's way before there was any danger, first time in the garage right before my car blew up and the second earlier today. How did you know my car was rigged and what warned you about the sniper?"

Blair's face stilled and he dropped his head to stare at his coffee. "Ah, yeah. I was afraid you would ask about that."

"I'm not going to like what you're going to tell me, am I?" Simon groaned, wiping a hand over his face.

At that, Blair raised his head back up and stared into the larger man's eyes. "I don't know. Depends on how much you want to understand about the special connection Jim and I have between us and all that goes with it."

"Hell, kid. I'm still having a hard time accepting everything about Ellison. I mean, the man can hear a conversation two rooms away from him in a busy hospital, he can smell me nearing his door and opens it before I can knock, and he can read a license plate almost a half mile away. That's just not natural."

"Yes, it is, but not in our society at this time. The prehistoric watchman had to use his senses in order to help the tribe survive the elements. His eyes had to be sharp to be able to see enemy coming from a distance. He needed to be able to smell any changes in the weather to prepare for bad storms. Jim is such a watchman and the people of the department, mainly the ones we work with daily, are the primary members of his tribe. Cascade is his extended tribe."

"That sounds familiar. What about you? I know you were working with that woman about what you have with Jim--"

"Ronnie Charbonneau, yeah. She's been a big help. Really helped us both open our eyes about a few things."

"I hear a 'but' hanging in there. You starting to develop psychic ability or something?"

Blair hesitated before finally saying, "I... I really don't know exactly what is happening, Simon. I used to think that Jim was the special one who could use anyone to help him with his senses and I just happened to be the lucky sap who had the most knowledge at the time. How many people do you know who've studied sentinels?"

"Never heard of them until you came along."

"Exactly. But I've been studying them for as long as I can remember and I don't know what started my interest in the subject. I'd spent so many years in research and searching for one, even writing my Master's thesis on them, and thought I'd never find a true one. Then out of the blue, Jim's senses start spiking all over the place and he needs someone to help him. Enter Blair Sandburg, sentinel specialist. Even as rough as our partnership has been at times, it's like we were always meant to be together and we've found that you're supposed to be a part of the equation." Sandburg spoke the last part quickly, almost mumbling.

Banks was taking a drink of his coffee and choked on the statement. He quickly set his mug down as he pulled out a handkerchief to cover his mouth. It took him a few minutes to control the coughing fit. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

Standing up, Sandburg started pacing around the living room. He clutched his coffee mug in one hand, but the other was waving through the air in almost frantic gestures. "Man, where is Jim when he really needs to be here. I knew we should have told you about this a long time ago, but he said the time wasn't right and you wouldn't want to know. Now you're going to go ballistic and I'm the one who has to face the music. It's not fair."

Banks could see that the other wasn't kidding and seemed genuinely upset. "Sandburg. Blair, please sit down." When the smaller man paused in his pacing, Banks pointed to the chair he'd vacated. "I'm not going to go ballistic. Despite what many may think or say, my mind isn't closed to the point where I'm not willing to listen. Tell me again what you said."

Blair looked from Simon to the chair and back to Simon again before he stepped around and gingerly sat down. He wrapped both hands around his mug and held it in front of him almost like a shield. "Jim and I both feel you are part of the bond we have between us. Remember Peru and the reason we went down there?"

Simon nodded. "You and Jim needed to go through some type of ceremony."

At the calm answer, Blair relaxed and set his mug down by his feet to free up his hands. "Right, to confirm and complete the bond we'd started with each other. But we also had to have our chief with us for the ceremony. A watchman protects the tribe and each tribe must have a chief, a leader. You fulfill that role for the tribe and for us. You actually accepted that role when you accepted who and what Jim is and my place at his side. Then you went down there with us and were allowed to follow us into the cave. That was your final acceptance of your place in the society. Sorry, man."

"Don't say you're sorry, Blair. I made the choice of accepting you as Jim's partner -- what exactly is your position called with this whole sentinel thing?"

"Brackett called me his guide, but Burton only considered my position as the sentinel's companion or partner, someone to watch his back and keep him from zoning out. Jim's first guide and shaman, Incacha... you remember when he was here." Blair waited until Simon nodded then took a deep breathe and continued, "I was here when he showed up badly hurt and called Jim, remember? Well, just before he died, he grabbed my arm and passed the way of the shaman to me. He gave me the responsibility of helping Jim get his sentinel abilities back and take care of him in the future."

"So you're now a witch doctor or something like that, casting spells and mixing up potions." There was a hint of sarcasm in the statement.

Blair laughed and shook his head. "That is so Hollywood, man. No, the shaman of a tribe is its teacher, spiritual leader, healer and many times the historian. From what I've been reading, they are born into the position. You can't just decide it's a cool job and start training for it. You just are, chosen and trained by the shaman to replace him when the time comes. Normally the shaman is for the tribe; he cannot devote his time to just one person. But with our tribe, and with Jim, I'm the shaman guide to his sentinel. We sort of discussed it the night before the Chopec showed up in Peru, but I don't think giving me an official title really matters at this point."

Banks chuckled. "No, at this point I don't think it does. But as I was saying, it has been my choice all the way to keep you on board as an observer, offering you the position as Jim's official partner and being there with you both in Peru."

"Okay, good. Now Burton focused his whole study on the sentinels and really didn't pay too much attention to the guide or shaman, which means that any stuff that happens involving him in a major role isn't written down anywhere."

"Like how you are able to help Jim, though I still don't understand it completely."

"Join the club. Bad thing is that there hasn't been too much time to work on it or on how to keep it from being such a problem for me. We've worked with Ronnie as much as possible, despite our schedule and the police work. But that is where you come into the story. Remember when we found out you can, uh, ground me when I'm trying to help Jim? That time when Danny Wilkins showed up."

"Whatever that means, yeah." Blair started to get up again, but Simon ordered, "Will you sit down, Sandburg? Your pacing makes me dizzy and though I know you won't, it looks like you're going to bolt out of the apartment any minute."

"Sorry, man. Jim's the only one I've discussed this with, well, besides Ronnie and Doug. But they teach things like what we have and I don't think anything would surprise them." Blair tried to sit back in the chair and relax, but he felt like he was 16 again and being questioned by one of his professors.

"Then just pretend Jim is hovering in the kitchen like a mama bear ready to protect you and get on with the explanation." Banks smiled when he heard Sandburg laugh at the description of Ellison.

Still chucking, Blair ran his hands through his hair to move it back from his face. "Okay, okay. We think that because you are our leader in the scheme of things, and how you have the ability to help me, your safety has now become something I can, sort of, feel. Wait, let me finish," Blair said quickly when he saw Simon frown. "When I picked up that folder you'd dropped on my desk, I knew you were in danger and I had to try to keep you safe. You are one of the few people I can openly talk to about Jim. You're also a good friend, Simon. Something I really don't have a lot of any more outside of Major Crime."

Banks saw the sadness that filled Sandburg's blue eyes at that statement and a hint of moisture gathering at the corner of his eyes before the younger man dropped his gaze. He understood what the other was going through, being ostracized by his peers. A similar thing had happened to him those many years ago and still haunted him to this day. Giving Sandburg a warm smile, Banks said, "Thanks, Blair. I'm honored you consider me a friend."

Blair blushed slightly, then cleared his throat. "Jim said that I gave him the warning that you were in danger after the award ceremony when you were almost run down and he took action because of that. With the garage, I'd felt such a sense of loss, a depressing darkness when I picked up the file you tossed onto the desk. I knew you were in danger and it scared the hell out of me. I had to do something to keep you safe. As for the shooting in the bullpen, I saw Jim react to something he had heard and knew something was wrong again. I think my action there was due to my academy training and hanging around Jim for so long."

"Damn, and I was hoping you would be an influence on him rather than the other way around." That caused the two to grin knowingly at each other. After taking another drink from his cup, Banks asked, "So what you're saying is that you have a type of precognitive ability to know when the three of us are in danger?"

"Ah, well, with Jim definitely. This is the first time with you, but I haven't quite figured out when there's any danger to me or when I'm just being paranoid. There was one other time, when Jim McLin was here a couple of years ago. I knew there was something wrong with him, but I didn't understand what I was seeing. Ronnie has been helping me with that. I think the only reason I honed in on him was because he was an important person in Jim's life and his illness was so serious."

"And no one else?"

"Not yet." Sandburg said the two words hesitantly, his eyes becoming distant. Banks standing up brought his attention back to the room.

"I think I've had about enough of the Twilight Zone for one afternoon." Leaning over, he picked up Sandburg's cup and walked into the kitchen. "Since I may be here for a while, let's see what's on the TV. Just don't turn on one of those stupid talk shows or reality pieces of crap."

Blair grabbed the remote. "I'm with you, man. Jim and I both think those so-called reality shows are about as real as our spirit guides."

Simon hesitated a moment while refilling the coffee mugs at the mention of the invisible animals that were supposed to be attached to each of his men. He did not want to go into that discussion at this time, so he kept quiet. Once the mugs were filled, and he put what he thought was a right amount of honey into Blair's cup, he went back into the living room.

Blair was scrolling through the different channels. "Thanks, Simon. We don't have too much choice at this time of the day. Mostly talk shows, soap operas and reruns of old TV series. We can watch either a classic movie or a CNN show of interviews with college students protesting the U.S. going to war."

Simon snorted in disgust. "Find a decent movie. I don't need to listen to some kids barely out of puberty discussing world politics when most of them are just experiencing their first time away from their mommy and daddy's control." He raised his hand when he saw Blair open his mouth to protest. "I know, not all of them are clueless idiots who think video games teach them how to survive in society or one political science course makes them experts on world events. Unfortunately, most reporters who want sensational stories tend to go after those types for interviews."

"I'll agree with you there, man." Blair gave a mock shudder. "Brrr, reporters. Hey, here we go. TCM is having a "Thin Man" marathon. We can get a good laugh from bad detective work, even as they catch the criminal every time."

Banks leaned back on the love seat with a quiet groan and glanced at his wristwatch before focusing on movie. I wonder how long before Daryl checks his phone messages. I never liked these movies even before I became a cop.

Ellison paused at the receptionist's desk and waited until the woman sitting there finished her conversation on the telephone. She was using the computer to her left as she spoke into the mic of the handless headset she wore. Ms. Sandoval, as the nameplate on the front of the desk identified her name, glanced up at him, held up a finger to indicate how much longer she would be then returned to her conversation. With a nod, Ellison looked around the area, noting the setup. Danielson Industries, Incorporated took up two floors in the Wilkinson Building. They were near the top, though not the penthouse as one would expect from such a large company. But then, he knew who owned the upper floor.

The memory of the last time he was in this building intruded on Ellison's thoughts. Sandburg had been trapped with three others in one of the elevators, which had been rigged with explosives. If it hadn't been for his partner's quick thinking and skills learned at one of the many summer jobs he'd once held, they all would have been killed by a madman using their situation to mask his true motive. As it was, Sandburg had saved himself and the other occupants of the elevator at the same time Ellison was capturing Galileo. The younger man hadn't been back to this building since that situation, even though there had been plenty of situations requiring him to return. Each time he'd found another duty to perform or was able to ask someone else to handle the task.

"May I help you, sir?"

The woman's voice brought Jim's attention back to his surroundings. Pulling his wallet out of his pocket, he showed his badge to the woman. "Detective Ellison. I need to speak to Mr. Danielson."

"Is he expecting you, Detective? His schedule is quite full at this time and he'll be leaving for an appointment in less than an hour."

"No, ma'am. I need to ask him some questions about a case that involved members of his family a few years ago." Jim kept his voice neutral, not showing any irritation since he knew the woman's job was to screen out unwanted visitors.

"Let me see if he has anyone in his office right now." She pressed a button on the desk phone base. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there is a Detective Ellison here to see you. He says it concerns a police situation... Yes, sir." Looking up at Jim, the woman pointed. "Take the hallway to your left and knock on the door at the end. Mr. Danielson will see you... Danielson Industries, how may I help you?"

Knowing he'd been dismissed when the woman answered another telephone call, Jim followed the directions and was soon knocking on the plain door at the end of the hall. The sign on the door only announced that 'Mr. Danielson' occupied the space beyond it. Jim didn't wait to be invited in, just opened the door and entered.

Pausing for a few seconds after entering, Ellison's attention was drawn to the view out the windows that lined two walls of the office. This side of the building faced the coast and only the president of a company would command such an office with this view. Secretly, Ellison was glad that his desk was where it was at the precinct. He knew he'd never get any work done if he had to come to work here every day. That was one of the reason's he'd bought the loft; the view off his living room was the envy of many.

Dragging his eyes away from the glass, Jim looked at the man rising from behind the desk and walked forward. A frown appeared on his face when he realized the person wasn't who he'd expected. "I wanted to speak with Fred Danielson, Sr.," he stated, showing the other his badge.

"My father finally turned the business over to me a while back, Detective. I'm Kevin Danielson. What's this about an old police matter in which my family was involved? I don't recall anything in the past couple of years." The heavyset man held his hand out to indicate a chair for Jim to take, then sat down.

"It was a lot longer than a couple of years ago, Mr. Danielson. It actually was the last one in which your brother, Fred, was involved. The one that put him in a nursing home." Jim tuned his senses onto the other and wasn't disappointed when he heard the man's heart rate increase. Danielson's face flushed and his eyes glistened in anger.

"My brother is dead, Detective. In fact, he died during that police operation. It just took his body a while to figure it all out. I can't see anything good coming from bringing up the situation now." Danielson leaned back in his chair, his hands clutching the armrests.

"Yes, we just learned of his death. Though I'm surprised no one took the time to inform Captain Banks of the situation. He and your brother were good friends."

Kevin sighed and dropped his head; the tension seemed to drain from his body. "I know. That was due to my father's orders and I'm sorry I ever agreed to honor his request to keep Freddie's death a secret. He has blamed Simon Banks for every problem that happened to Fred up until the day he died. For the record, I don't blame him, at least not anymore. I was with Freddie a few times when he was reminiscing about his time in the Air Force with Banks. Then I went back to read some of the letters he'd sent me when he was stationed in Japan and I realized that Banks was like the brother I could never be to Freddie."

Jim's senses told him that the man was telling him the truth. "You couldn't convince your father of that, could you?"

"It took me a while to accept the fact that Fred was Dad's favorite and that I would always be the second son. I stayed in denial for a long time." Danielson gave a barking laugh. "For years I sided with Dad when he'd rant and rave about Banks and how he turned Fred against him. But towards the end I just stayed quiet and continued to step in and keep the corporation running. Banks once told me that Fred had joined the Air Force, and eventually the police force, to leave me the opportunity to run the company.