Originally written for the SA list...
Audrey Lynne
This was NOT the way Jim Ellison had intended to spend his Christmas.
In the first place, he was driving down a dark road of a town in Washington he'd never been to -- and frankly, never cared to see again. Sweetheart's heater was working, but only erratically, so his passenger was bundled up under a couple of blankets, trying to ward off the cold. It was dark, with only the Ford's headlights providing any sort of illumination -- not a problem for Jim's vision, but the truck's other occupant wasn't similarly gifted, and kept throwing nervous glances at the shadows. Plus, the radio station's "Twenty-Five Hours of Christmas" was really starting to get on Jim's nerves.
And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?
The mention of Africa reminded him of Blair, and all those expeditions he liked to talk about. The thought of Blair brought to mind other thoughts, of a woman named Krislyn. Thinking of Krislyn made Jim start to feel somewhat homicidal, so he decided that it was best not to pursue that train of thought. He reached out to change the station. Paul Anka's crooning for Diana wasn't much better in Jim's opinion, but at least it didn't make him want to kill anyone (yet).
Jim turned to look over at the passenger's seat. A mop of dark curls was barely visible above the blankets, and he chuckled. "The heater's on now, you know."
"But it's cold!"
Jim shook his head. "Is this a Sandburg thing or what?" he wondered softly. "Okay, okay, have it your way. We're almost there."
That got a response, if the shifting of the blankets was any clue. "Are we gonna go see Daddy now?"
Jim smiled, and nodded. "Yeah, sure thing, Shortcake... as soon as I FIND his stupid ass."
He'd thought he'd added the last part too softly for the three-year-old to catch it, but Jim soon found out that he was mistaken. "Uncle Jim, what's 'stupid ass' mean?"
"Er... never mind." Jim sighed. He so often forgot that she was only a child, and not an abnormally short adult. Jamie Sandburg could seem so much older than she was some moments -- and then, at others, she was the typical three-year-old again. Like now. "It's not important."
Jamie shrugged, and bent forward to retrieve her stuffed wolf from the floor. Her seatbelt stopped her, however, and she made a noise of frustration. "I can't get Mishka!"
"Hang on." Jim knew that the few seconds he would lose by pulling over were worth making the kid happy. Especially considering that they were still looking for Blair, and that the stuffed wolf (its name had been Mishka when Blair had bought it) tended to be a sort of security blanket for Jamie when she and her father were separated. He'd given it to her around her first birthday, and it had been one of her favorite toys since.
"Thanks." Jamie immediately wrapped her arms around the animal, pulling it close.
It was Christmas evening. Jamie should have been at home, playing with her new toys -- or perhaps curled up, asleep under the tree. She was three, and the world was still a magical place for her... she should have been able to enjoy as much of that as possible. However, it would seem that Krislyn had other plans.
Krislyn Jarred. Jim's jaw tightened just thinking of her. Krislyn was the latest woman in Blair's life, and Jim couldn't help but want to tell Blair, "I told you so" when they saw each other again. Jim hadn't liked Krislyn from the start. She was attractive, sweet, and perky -- but something in Jim's radar went nuts every time he was near the woman. She had a seemingly innocent job as a reporter, and no criminal record -- Jim had checked. He had no idea what he didn't like about her.
Or, rather, Jim had no idea what he didn't like about her until that morning. Christmas morning, he had gotten an unintelligible phone call from Blair that had lasted about seven seconds. Krislyn was saying something in the background that Jim hadn't quite caught, but she hadn't sounded happy. Then the line had gone dead.
So, since then, Jim had been running all over Cascade and the surrounding towns in search of clues, in search of Blair, in search of a good and legal reason to strangle Krislyn...
It had all started out so simply. Krislyn had been lurking about Rainier while working on a human-interest article about college students and what their 'typical' day might involve. There, she'd run into Blair in the cafeteria. He'd been between lectures, and had a few minutes to chat with her. Somewhere, a casual conversation had turned into a dinner invitation -- surprisingly, Krislyn was the one offering. Jim knew Blair's relatively tame social life had more to do with not wanting to handle a girlfriend along with the demands of single parenthood than anything else. He'd go out now and then with a group of friends... but, as for an actual date, Krislyn was going to be the first "date" date since Blair's wife had died the year before. Jim remembered that conversation well... he still wondered if there was something he could have said to dissuade his friend from going out with that woman...
Two weeks earlier...
Jim looked up as Blair strolled up to his desk in the bullpen. Since Blair had resumed a full-time teaching position, he'd been a rarer sight around the police department. He was still a consultant, and in often by anyone's standards... but to those who'd been used to seeing him eight hours a day, when he'd been a detective...
"Hey, Chief. What's up?" Jim motioned with his head for Blair to sit down.
Blair did sit, though not in the nearby chair; he instead chose to perch on a corner of the desk. "Can you do me a huge favor? If you're not busy, that is."
"Sure," Jim agreed. "What is it?"
"Can you watch Jamie for me on Friday night?"
Jim nodded. "Of course." Blair so rarely asked anyone to help him with his daughter that Jim was glad to see Blair taking a break. "You going out with some friends or something?"
"Something," Blair answered, looking a bit uncomfortable.
Jim's interest was instantly aroused. Blair didn't get that look often. "Oh? Don't tell me you're going on a date?"
"Well," Blair admitted. "Sort of."
"That's great." Jim grinned. "If you're sure you're ready, that is."
Blair ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Yeah, I want to say I'm ready. But... dating just isn't the same now. And it's got nothing to do with Maggie. I mean, yeah -- I miss her, and I wish she hadn't died. But it's been a year and a half, almost. I'm not what you'd call 'over it'... I've dealt with it, I guess, is a better way to put it."
"So what's your hang-up?" Jim asked.
"I remember when I used to go out with women who had kids," Blair said, looking thoughtful. "I never took it too seriously -- hell, I usually thought they were just trying to get out of the house! I wouldn't have considered a long-term relationship with any of them, really. It... sounds kind of shallow, now, actually. I think I just wasn't ready to have a child in my life then."
"But now you are, and you do," Jim pointed out. "Are you saying that you think having Jamie's a hindrance to dating?"
"No!" Blair shook his head. "Not at all. She is, sort of, but not in a bad way. It's just that... she comes first. She'll always come first. And... even if I can find women who can handle that, I don't want to be leading a constant parade of women in and out of her life."
"Like Naomi did with you?" Jim asked gently.
Blair looked thoughtful. "That was different. Really, it was. You know, when I was three, my mother was twenty. She was just a kid herself when she had me. I mean, I've had time to date the whole world -- and you know full well that I pretty much did. Then I found the right person, and married her, and we had a kid. I mean, I know it was a rocky marriage sometimes, but we managed to keep it together. Naomi... she never got any of that... 'free time', so to speak. I didn't mind it for the most part -- I just want Jamie to have a little more stability. See, that's the other difference. All of my life -- even when I was a baby -- I was used to people coming and going, and moving around. I never knew any different. All of Jamie's life, she's had the same people pretty much to rely on, and she's lived in the same city... I don't want to disrupt the status quo, you know?"
"I don't think you'll psychologically scar her for life if you go on this date, if that's what worries you," Jim contributed, his tone light.
Blair chuckled. "That's a relief. Nah, I'm not worried about just one date -- it's the whole idea of getting back into the dating world. It sucked. I mean, 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover? It's more like a few hundred. And I've used almost all of them -- or had them used on me."
"Yeah" Jim agreed. "It's not always easy. Heck, it's rarely easy. But, really, Chief, if you go out with this woman once, that doesn't necessarily mean you're diving back into dating. Go out with her once -- maybe a few times, if you enjoy yourself. Have some fun -- and when it's over, you can go back to your monk plan."
"You're really weird, Jim. You do know that, right?"
"But I've got a few good ideas," Jim pointed out. "So, this woman knows about Jamie, right?"
"Of course," Blair confirmed. "And she loves kids."
"Good. So, what's her name?"
"Oh, you remember Krislyn Jarred?" Blair asked. "That reporter from the Times? We kind of hit it off -- thought it might be fun to..."
Blair said more, but Jim never caught it. He'd stopped at the name. He'd met Krislyn briefly, and didn't like her. Something about her just rubbed him the wrong way entirely. "Krislyn? That brunette, about five-six? The one with the article on students?"
"Yeah, that's her." Blair nodded enthusiastically. "We figured it'd be just a casual thing, really, but--"
"She's up to something," Jim pronounced.
Blair rolled his eyes. "Jim, every woman I intend to go out with is 'up to something'. You didn't like Maggie when I started dating her."
"I liked Maggie just fine," Jim corrected. "I didn't like you going out with her. And that was different; I knew her and I didn't like you going out with her for reasons unrelated to being up to something. I just get a creepy feeling about this Krislyn, okay?"
"Really?" If Blair had been his canine counterpart, his ears would have been perking up. Jim should have known that mentioning any feeling he might get would get this reaction from Sandburg. Maybe he could use it to his advantage.
"Yeah," Jim said. "I don't know what it is. I haven't reacted to anyone like this since Al-- well, in awhile. She's not a Sentinel; I'm definitely not getting that... but she's got something going on. And I don't like it."
"Jim," Blair replied calmly, "Krislyn is not a psycho. I mean, I'm sure you've already checked her background out. Any priors?"
"No."
"Then I'll be fine." Blair shook his head. "If I was getting remarried, it might be one thing... but it's just dinner. She's not going to drug me and drag me off to Mexico so I can help with her drug cartel, or anything wild. She's not remotely related to anyone involved with guns in Chile. She's not related to anyone you, I, or both of us have arrested. She's just a reporter."
"Does she usually date her interviews?" Jim asked.
"I wasn't an interview," Blair insisted. "We were just talking, like normal people. It'll be all right."
"If you change your mind," Jim told him, "I'll still take the munchkin. Go do something fun."
Blair smiled. "Thanks, Jim. Krislyn and I intend to do just that."
Presently...
Jim sighed heavily, and looked over at Jamie. Her eyelids were drooping, and she was about to fall asleep in her car seat -- which had been nearly impossible to wrangle out of Blair's car, much less install in the old truck. But, for her safety...
He was really considering seeing how well she'd fit in one of those booster seats.
Jim looked at the road sign -- Everett, 40 miles. Everett, Washington. He'd spent a year there one night. In a way, he wished that was where he was headed. But, no, the last communique he'd managed to intercept seemed to indicate that Krislyn had taken Blair to Sterling, which was 23 miles beyond Everett.
"This is so screwed up," Jim muttered. He really felt like using stronger terms to describe his feelings on the situation, but Jamie was still awake, and he just knew she'd hear if he did. This was all Krislyn's fault. Jim wasn't even going to feel remotely guilty for this one. He'd tried to stop Blair. He'd tried to stop Krislyn. He really had. But his protests had fallen on deaf ears. During the whole debate over the trip, it had seemed to Jim that the only person actually listening to him was Jamie -- and even then, the issue had gone right over her curly little head. But Jim HAD tried. Really. He had absolutely nothing to feel guilty for.
But if that was the case, why did his inability to stop Blair bother him so damn much?
The week before...
The phone slammed down. "I don't freaking BELIEVE THIS!"
Had Jim been in his own home, rather than Blair's, he might still have heard the frustrated cry. It was only a block away, after all. "What's wrong, Chief?"
"My former in-laws -- THAT'S what's wrong!" Blair stormed into the living room to join Jim. Jamie looked up innocently, distracted from her toys by her father's sudden shift in mood. "Monica and Bryce O'Brien... you know, Maggie's parents who hate me... they're my problem!"
Jim raised an eyebrow, then his expression darkened. "They're not trying to take custody of Jamie again, are they?!" After Maggie's death, the O'Briens had tried to take Jamie from Blair, but (with the help of William Ellison's attack lawyers) had been dissuaded from taking the matter to court.
"No, but--" Blair threw up his hands. "I haven't heard from them -- not one word -- since about a month after Maggie died, when they finally decided to let me keep Jamie without a fight. And now -- a year and a half later and then a few weeks... NOW, they decide they want their granddaughter for Christmas! Like I wouldn't have any plans! Like they've even paid one iota of attention to her since her mother died! Like they even did much for her before that!"
"They want Jamie for Christmas?" Jim echoed.
"Yeah," Blair hissed. "Because I'm Jewish, so I obviously wouldn't have any interest in having her during Christmas, and she needs a Christmas. Those were Monica's exact words. And -- she didn't even ASK if I might have anything. But since they're rich, they -- my daughter IS NOT A PAWN for them to screw with to get at me!"
"Blair, breathe," Jim advised -- Blair was legitimately getting near the point of hyperventilation. "So did you tell them you had plans for her?"
"Yes!" Blair was stalking about the room now, and Jim could have almost sworn -- almost -- that he heard a wolf snarling somewhere in the distance. At this point in his life, it really wouldn't have surprised him. "They wanted a compromise."
"Oh?"
"Yeah..." Blair glared at nothing in particular. "They want her Christmas Eve and 'til noon on Christmas. And then I can -- and I quote -- 'do whatever with her'. Whatever with her! Like... oh, I'm just not going there."
"So?" Jim ventured. "Are you going to let them..."
"I have to," Blair growled. He suddenly seemed to be drained of the energy his fury had been providing him, and collapsed onto the couch next to Jim. "They're going to try to get her if I resist. They've got attack lawyers of their own -- with precedence of grandparents suing, and winning, custody. Even when the one parent has a stable job. Jim, I've got a hell of a lot of stuff in my past that could conceivably be used against me. I mean, it's nothing I'm really ashamed of having done; it was part of anthropology. Like taking local drugs with the natives in a third-world country. I couldn't get accepted by the tribe unless I participated in the customs. And it was nothing really dangerous, not compared to half of the stuff that's available over here."
"So? It was part of the job."
"Jim, if your dad's lawyers dug that up on someone, you know what they'd do with it. They'd twist it. Hell, Jim! The Golden thing! That could come up. They were talking about it before."
Jim's eyebrows knit together. "You had nothing to do with that. You were the victim, there!"
"I know," Blair sighed, watching Jamie for a long moment. "If they try more crap like this again later... I'll start fighting. But... I can't risk losing her. I won't risk it."
Jim reached out to put an arm around his best friend. "Well, you'll have me at least. And, let me tell you, at 11:59 you can be parked outside those rich ba-- uh -- jerks' house. And the minute it's noon, we'll have Jamie out of there and home where she belongs."
Present...
That was when it had all begun. Once Blair confided to Krislyn that the O'Briens were taking Jamie on Christmas Eve, Krislyn had instantly extended an offer to Blair regarding Christmas Eve plans. She usually went up to a little cabin near the Canadian border every Christmas Eve with a group of friends; did Blair want to come along? They would be home by Christmas morning -- and it would do Blair good; it would get his mind off the fact that he couldn't be spending the time with his little girl.
Jim had hated the plan.
Part of Jim wondered if it was Sentinel jealousy, not wanting his Guide to spend that time with someone else. Another part of him wondered if it was merely his own desire not to be alone on Christmas Eve. And then there was the part of him who wondered if it were a warning, something the Sentinel part of him sensed that the man didn't recognize.
It would seem that the 'warning' theory was the correct one.
Krislyn was just a little TOO sweet and innocent -- not unlike Maya. Oh, Jim had heard all about Maya in later years. He still didn't buy that sweet and naive bit.
If only he'd been able to get that point through to Blair...
The week before...
"Jim, why's it a problem? Krislyn said you can come too if you like."
Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Chief, that's not the problem. It's not that you're going someplace -- it's Krislyn. I'm telling you, she gives me the heebie-jeebies. I don't know if that's a Sentinel thing or not, but I don't like it!"
Blair reached out to Jim, that 'all right, just calm down' look on his face. "Jim. Krislyn is okay. She's not planning to kill me. It's just a few hours. You're the one who told me I should get out more."
"I meant with other people! Or we could go out!"
"Jim," Blair said evenly, "this jealous Sentinel thing is really quite flattering. However--"
"I'm not jealous!" Jim insisted. "I don't care if you go out with me, your TA, Nicole Kidman, or your mother's best friend from 1964! Just anyone but Krislyn!"
Blair's patience was fading; he made a noise of slight irritation. "I'm an adult, Jim. I can take care of myself. It's not even 24 hours. I'll be back by eight in the morning on Christmas, and if you'd like to join the group of us, feel free. It's not some romantic getaway."
"I think you're making a mistake," Jim protested.
Blair shrugged blithely. "It's my mistake to make."
Present...
Blair had been right. It HAD been his mistake to make. However, he'd made the mistake and now he might be in some very real danger.
When Blair hadn't been home by eight-thirty that morning, Jim had called his cell phone. There had been no answer. Then, around nine, Jim had received that phone call from Blair. In seven seconds, Jim had heard the words "caught", "here", "nuts", and "sex". Meanwhile, Krislyn yelled something that Jim might be able to remember if he had his Guide's help, but didn't. Then the phone went dead.
Immediately, Jim had begun to follow the woman's path. He didn't know what had exactly gone on, but he soon discovered that the friends Krislyn and Blair were supposed to go to the cabin with had gone -- but without Krislyn or Blair, who had never met up with them. The ATM print-out statement from Blair's debit card (Jim had a duplicate and the PIN, in case of such an emergency... as Blair did with him) showed a charge for a restaurant in Chantilly on the night of the 24th. Jim had gone out to the O'Brien place, coincidentally arriving just after noon. (Pity, too -- he'd really have loved the pleasure of taking Jamie back from them earlier.) He'd explained to them that Blair was meeting them in another town, as a sort of surprise, deciding that a twisted version of the truth was better than an outright lie. After getting Jamie settled in his truck, Jim had taken off for Chantilly, Washington.
In Chantilly, Jim met a waitress at the diner Krislyn and Blair had visited. She remembered the couple, and recalled hearing them mention a place in Sterling -- which was how, at eight o'clock on Christmas night, Jim Ellison had ended up on the interstate with a drowsy toddler in the passenger's seat.
Sterling was only another ten miles at that point, and Jim's jaw set firmly. Krislyn better not have harmed one hair on Blair's head, or she was going to be in a world of hurt. Blessed Protector Syndrome or not, Jim's only mission in life now was to rescue his Guide -- his friend.
He'd lost the current radio station, and Jim found himself wanting the background noise for some reason -- perhaps having something to ignore helped him to focus better. He didn't know, but he reached out to turn the radio dial and find another station.
Well, I bet you any amount of money, he'll be coming back to you...
"Damn right he will," Jim agreed -- but he didn't really care for the song, so he flipped the station again.
She's a black magic woman...
"THAT'S more like it." Grinning, Jim turned the volume up slightly, and glanced briefly over at Jamie. "Now, this is quality music, Shortcake."
Big blue eyes looked up at him, after tiny hands had rubbed them. "Is it right?"
Jim frowned. "Is what right?"
"What my grandma said."
Jim hadn't the first clue what Naomi might have been telling Jamie -- or how much of it might have actually been 'right'. "I don't know. What did Naomi tell you?"
Jamie shook her head. "No, no, not Nammy. The other grandma."
Oh, great. Monica O'Brien. Jim wasn't sure he wanted to know WHAT Monica had told this child, but he supposed he'd have to learn. "What'd she tell you?"
"She said Daddy was..." Jamie frowned, as though trying to remember, "a... hippie freak. She said I should live with her."
Jim had to bite his tongue -- literally -- for a moment to stop his initial response. That bitch! Trying to poison Blair's own daughter against him for her own purposes. "No, she's wrong about that. Your father may be a lot of things, but he's not a freak. And you belong with him."
"Okay," Jamie replied, nodding. She seemed comforted somewhat by the fact. "She asked me some weird stuff, too."
"What?" Jim demanded, not liking the way this was heading.
"Like... she wasn't really talking to me, but... she kept asking stuff, and nobody else was there... so I thought maybe she really meant me."
It took Jim a few moments to decipher her words; she still had that adorable babyish lisp, but it made her difficult to understand sometimes. Amazingly, she usually got most word pronunciations right -- which people seemed to find just as charming as kids who unintentionally mangled words. "What did she ask?"
"Like if Daddy and you were... screwin' up stuff."
"You mean with you?" Jim asked.
Jamie shook her head. "Uh-uh. I dunno what. Like... she said, she just knew that you and Daddy kept screwin'... each other. But that doesn't make sense, Uncle Jim. How do you screw that up?"
Jim nearly choked. It wasn't the first time that particular accusation had come up, but it had NEVER been mentioned to Jamie, or anywhere around her that he knew of before. That bitch. And, Jamie... so innocent, she didn't understand at all. Jim was grateful for that, at least. "She's very wrong, there." Ah, there was the exit for Sterling. Jim pulled off of the interstate, and continued explaining what he could to Jamie, trying to keep in mind her age. "See... your dad and me... we're really, really good friends."
Jamie offered him a toothy grin. "You mean he's your bestest friend in the whole world?"
Jim chuckled. "Yes, exactly. And people take that to mean things sometimes that aren't happening with us."
"Oh." Jamie picked Mishka back up, and tucked the wolf under one arm. "Okay. Hey, Uncle Jim?"
"Yeah?" Jim sincerely hoped he wouldn't be learning any more unwanted facts about Mrs. O'Brien.
"Daddy said I gotta find a black kitty to go with Mishka. Why?"
Jim laughed. That was Blair, all right. He couldn't wait to see how Blair would explain spirit animals and such to someone who considered books like I Want to be a Clown works of classic literature. "Well... I'm not really sure, honey. Why don't we wait 'til we find him and then you can ask him then?"
"Uh-huh. Will we find his stupid ass, too?" Jamie asked.
Jim groaned softly. He was never going to live that one down.
Once in Sterling proper, Jim decided to play it by ear -- literally. He and Blair had never determined the exact range of his hearing, but he knew it was at least a couple of blocks; he'd heard noises at that distance before. If he had to drive over every inch of Sterling, listening for Blair, he'd do it.
Finally, after about ten minutes, he heard it. "Kris... this isn't exactly how it works..."
"Shush, Blair. I know you're confused, but this is going to be the night. Merry Christmas, darling."
"Krislyn! Leave that on!"
Jim focused, reaching out for Jamie's arm. He'd learned to ground himself using his Guide as a physical tether years ago, but had recently discovered that someone he had a strong emotional connection to could also serve as a temporary anchor. Jamie seemed to understand his need, if not his reason, and wrapped her little hand around his fingers.
Soon, he had the exact source of the voices pinpointed. This was going to be one of his more difficult attempts with his senses. Jim couldn't risk Jamie's well-being unless he was sure the scene was relatively safe within. However, he didn't want to leave her completely unprotected. His plan was to pull the truck up to the building -- it was a house -- as close as he could without being noticed, and unbuckle Jamie. Jim was going to sneak up close enough to figure out what the situation was inside the house; Special Ops training came in awfully handy sometimes. However, he was going to also split his focus and his senses to monitor Jamie in the truck. At the first sign of ANY danger to her, he could be back at the truck almost instantly and snatch her out, his reason for leaving her unbuckled. However, if the scene was secure enough within, Jim could get her and then go in to get Blair. His first choice was not to have Jamie in this sort of situation in the first place, but that had been unavoidable.
Jim's main worry was that he'd zone while dividing his focus. He had done it before successfully, but that was with Blair guiding him the whole time. But the possible benefits outweighed the risk, so he was going to have to try.
Jim looked at Jamie as he pulled the Ford up to the dwelling, and reached out to unfasten the latch on her car seat. "Shortcake, this is very important. I need you to stay RIGHT here in the truck, okay? And I need you to be very quiet, as quiet as you can."
"As quiet as a mouse?" Jamie asked, grinning.
"Yeah." Jim nodded. Best to let her think it was some kind of game. "I'll come back for you in just a few minutes."
"'Kay," Jamie whispered.
Jim patted her head, and smiled back at her before he climbed out of the truck, shutting the door very carefully. With Sweetheart parked in a more shadowy and non-oblivious location, he wasn't worried about anyone approaching from the street. It was whoever might be inside this house that concerned him.
There were two heartbeats coming from the room farthest to the back, and they were the only two in the building. Blair and Krislyn. Jim listened, keeping a steady tab on Jamie's heartbeat in the back of his mind.
"Krislyn, I'm flattered... but I'm... I can't just GET into the mood! I mean, I'm thrilled that you'd consider me good enough to be the father of your kids, but..."
A soft, feminine laugh. "Blair, you don't get it. You don't have much of a choice. We've got all night, though, relax. You're perfect for this. You're attractive, you're smart, you're charming -- and Jamie's proof that you make damn cute kids. I want a child more than anything, Blair. I'd have just snatched Jamie, but I'm no kidnapper."
"You kidnapped ME!"
"That was different. It wasn't traumatic."
"In whose opinion? You drugged me at dinner last night, then you dragged me up to God-knows-where..."
"But I didn't HURT you!"
Jim raised an eyebrow. They were arguing, but Krislyn -- though definitely a few fries short of a Happy Meal -- didn't seem to be too dangerous. If she didn't want Blair hurt, he doubted she'd hurt a child, especially Blair's child.
His cell phone vibrated. Jim was startled; with his senses dialed as high as they were at the moment, it didn't feel gentle. Blair and Krislyn were still arguing, so Jim took advantage of that distraction, and answered it. "Ellison," he said softly, dialing down his hearing enough to be able to talk on the phone without getting blown out. He turned his body so that he had Sweetheart, and Jamie, under visual surveillance rather than audio. Besides, seeing it was better than listening -- he'd jumped when a squirrel had come up to the truck.
"Jim, it's Simon. Any luck?"
"Yeah, found them. I'm going in soon," Jim answered.
"I got some information on Krislyn Jarred," Simon supplied. "The Peach Hill Psychiatric Hospital in Santa Monica, California, has a file on her. Apparently, she's got obsessive tendencies with delusional behavior going on. She's perfectly fine when medicated, however."
"But?" Jim prompted.
"I called her doctor -- not easy on Christmas, mind you. But he said she was due for a refill on her medication a few days ago, and never came by to pick it up."
"Geez," Jim sighed. "That'd explain it." He wasn't any less hacked off at this woman, but at least he knew where she was coming from. "Still no record, right?"
"Criminally, no."
"Thanks. I'll call you later." Jim knew Simon would understand, and hung up. He crept back over to the truck and got Jamie out. "We're going inside, kiddo," he explained, "but you've still gotta be as quiet as you can. See, there's this lady in there, and we're going to sneak your dad out of there if we can."
Jamie nodded, her eyes wide.
Krislyn had locked the door, but Jim knew more than enough about most locks to pick it easily; his hearing certainly helped. He silently instructed Jamie to stay in the living room, behind the loveseat. She offered him a thumbs-up, and crouched behind the small sofa. Jim headed down the hall to the back bedroom, and looked through the keyhole; it was an old style lock. Krislyn was dressed in a red bra-and-panty set; Blair was in a pair of boxers and an open shirt -- and he was handcuffed to the bed. It was a set of 'love cuffs', though -- the release was inaccessible from Blair's position, but Jim would be able to pop them easily. Krislyn knelt on the bed, hovering over Blair.
"Blair, we would be so perfect together -- just you and I, and the rest of the world can go to hell."
"Kris," Blair protested. "I've known you just a couple of weeks -- you can't expect me to want to make a baby with you!"
"But that's all I need, is a baby to love! I even stopped taking my medications so I could do it!" Krislyn crossed to a CD player, and hit a button. "I Want To Know What Love Is" began to play. Krislyn smiled. "Now we have the music, we have us... we don't need anything else."
When she turned back to Blair, Jim took advantage of his opportunity, and stepped into the room. "Not everything. You don't have him, not really." With any typical perp, he wouldn't take that chance, but he'd seen her long enough to know she wasn't going to be much of a physical threat.
"You!" Krislyn spun around, and flung the lotion bottle she'd just picked up at Jim. "You... just go away! You're ruining EVERYTHING!"
"No, you've got it wrong! Blair's a person, not an object to be taken."
"No... no..." Krislyn frowned, then seemed to lose her train of thought. She sat down on the bed abruptly, and passed out a few seconds later.
Jim jumped up. "What the hell...?" He did a quick check of her heart rate and breathing, and they seemed fine.
Blair tugged on the plastic cuffs. "She's okay. Lemme up and I'll explain everything."
Jim chuckled, and tapped the release button on the handcuffs. "Well, Chief?"
Blair sat up, and rubbed his wrists. "She drugged me last night. I didn't realize what had happened until this morning when I called you -- but she left the stuff lying in the kitchen this afternoon... before she tied me up in here, I... um, spiked her coffee a little."
"You drugged her?" Jim asked, his eyes widening in incredulity.
Blair frowned. "Jim, I AM somewhat capable of saving my own ass now and then. Considering that I got myself into this one, I thought it only fair. But... um, thanks."
Jim pulled Blair into a quick hug. "No problem, Chief. Merry Christmas, by the way." He checked his watch. "I think we've still got a few hours left of it."
"Merry Christmas, Jim." Blair returned the hug. "I guess we should call someone to take care of her..."
"I'll do that," Jim said. "Right now, there's a little girl out in the living room who probably wants to see her father."
"You brought Jamie?!"
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Jim asked. "Leave her with the O'Briens? I think not." He made a mental note to contact his dad's lawyers in the morning -- and then realized that in the excitement of the day, he hadn't called his father for Christmas. Well, that was easily remedied -- his cell phone's coverage area included the entire Pacific Coast. Jim followed Blair out into the living room, grinning at Jamie and motioning her to come out. He nodded that it was okay for her to talk, and she squealed excitedly as she flung herself at Blair.
"DADDY!"
"Hiya, Angel." Blair scooped her up, kissing her forehead. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Daddy!"
"As weird as it was," Jim pointed out, as the phone rang on the other end of the cell phone.
"Hello?"
Jim smiled. "Hi, Dad -- I'm really sorry I didn't call earlier. We had a LOT happen at once. Merry Christmas."
They chatted for a few minutes, then Jim held the phone out to Jamie. "Here, Shortcake. It's for you."
Jamie looked surprised, then took the cell phone carefully. "Hello?" Her eyes went wide. "Hi, Papa!"
Blair and Jim exchanged a smile. Somewhere along the line, Jamie had gotten it into her head that William Ellison was her grandfather. William had thought it was absolutely adorable, and so no one had ever bothered to correct her. Everyone else thought it was pretty cute, too -- Steven seemed to get the biggest kick out of it. Fortunately, Jim thought, he'd called Steven right before he'd gotten Blair's call, so that was taken care of.
Jamie was wrapping up her conversation a few minutes later. "Bye, Papa -- Merry Christmas, too!" She handed the phone back to Jim.
Jim laughed softly. "You've got quite a little fan there, Dad."
"She's a sweet kid. Besides, all Steven has is boys -- I like having a granddaughter."
Jim had never thought this day would come, talking with his father as amiably as he was. That was mostly Blair's doing, and Jim was quite grateful for it. Approaching sirens in the distance announced to Jim the arrival of the help he'd called for right before calling William, so he finished up the call, and reached out to ruffle Jamie's hair. "See, kiddo? I promised you that we'd find your dad before Christmas was over!"
"Uh-huh," Jamie agreed. "But..." She looked concerned. "Did we find that other thing yet?"
"Um... yes," Jim answered quickly, highly suspecting he already knew what the 'other thing' was. He REALLY needed to watch himself around this child...
"What other thing?" Blair asked, a bit confused.
"Your stupid ass," Jamie explained.
"My stupid... JIM! I told you a million times, this kid picks up everything!"
"I'm sorry!" Jim held up his hands in mock defense. "I mean, it was one slip-up... it's not like I taught her some of the things we used to say in the Army!"
"But now this is gonna be her new favorite term -- you know that, right?" Blair shook his head. "I swear, Jim..."
Jim shrugged. "She'll get over it." Secretly, he was sort of enjoying this, in a twisted way. It was good to see things returning to normal... whatever passed for it for a Sentinel and his Guide, anyway....
The End