Brotherhood

Danae

Disclaimer: Alas, they are not mine.  I hope Pet Fly doesn't mind sharing though.  No harm or
infringement is intended and nobody's paying me so... unspoken plea here.  It's all in the spirit of
fun and a touch of reverence for the folks that do own them.   

Thanks to Missy and Wendy, my fabulous betareaders. And to Michelle who inspires me with her
amazing writing and understanding of the human soul.  And to everyone else who has
written to me with feedback.  I hope you know just how important you are to me.

Season four?  What season four?  This thing was started even before S2!  Now, you know where
we are....

Brotherhood

_____________

For once, it was not raining and Blair Sandburg reveled in the sunshine as he tracked across the
Rainier University campus to the Student Union.  The new Anthropology 101 textbooks had
come in and the bookstore was holding one for him.  Of course, it would not be a teacher's
edition.  Those went to the folks with those three little letters that Blair was still searching for
after their names.  Then again, Blair did not need a teacher's edition.  He could teach the 101 class
in his sleep, while typing Jim's paperwork, and with one hand tied behind his back.  *Well,
maybe not the hand tied thing.*  Blair had to have his hands to talk.  If he could not move his
hands, then how would he get his point across?  And if one was busy typing, he would need the
other.  Blair smiled at the strange thoughts racing through his head and at the sun beams warming
him.  It was a good day, he decided.  He had two classes to teach, one to attend, a partner
with a thankfully light case load waiting for him at the station, and a dinner date with a very pretty
TA from the History department that night.  Yes, a very good day indeed.

Maybe that was why what he discovered in the hedges outside the Student Union hit him so hard.

________________________________________________________

Jim Ellison pushed aside the by-standers and not a few other cops to get to his partner.  He found
the younger man sitting on the steps of the Student Union.  Jim registered the blood covering
his guide and then dismissed it.  It was someone else's.  He moved on to observe the tremors that
shook Blair's body with incredible force.  "Blair?"  

Deep blue eyes were raised to meet his and Jim could see the pain and the anger in them.  "Did
you see?  Did you see what some monster did to that girl?" Blair pointed in the direction where
the paramedics frantically worked to save a young girl's life.

"I'm on my way over there now, Chief.  Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah."

"Has anyone taken your statement?"

"No, I couldn't-- I, Jim, I just--" Jim laid a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"I understand.  Wait for me here, okay?  I'll get your statement after I talk to the other officers
and examine the scene."

"I should go with you to do that.  You may need me."

"No, just stay here for right now.  I won't do anything too strenuous.  You can come back with
me later if we need to.  At the moment, Chief, you are in no shape for this.  Okay?"

Blair simply nodded and wrapped his arms around his body once again.  Jim squeezed the
shoulder that his hand rested on once before turning to the crime scene.  The sentinel part of his
soul appeased that his guide was safe, the cop emerged to take precedence.  He had a brutal
assault to investigate.  He quickly located Brown near the site where the paramedics were lifting
the girl's bloody body onto a gurney.  He made his way there.  What he saw brought instant
understanding of Blair's anger.  The victim was a tiny Oriental girl, no more than eighteen or
nineteen years old.  She was still alive but just barely.  Thankfully, she was unconscious.  Her
arms and legs were covered in cuts of varying depth, and Jim caught sight of the word
"Chink"  carved into her abdomen as the paramedic raised the bandage to check the wound once
more before transport.  Jim's senses told him that she had been raped as well.  His stomach
flipped, and he swallowed hard against the bile that rose into his throat.  Jim turned to Brown.  

"Was she found out here in the open?"

"No, Sandburg found her in the hedges, over here.  He carried her out here, we think, so that he
could try to save her.  I tried to ask him some questions but he wasn't talking."  Brown led the
way over to a spot where the hedge was not quite so perfect anymore.

"He spoke to me.  I'm going to get his statement when we get through here."  Jim carefully moved
the branches of the thick bushes aside and stepped through.  The first thing that
registered in his senses was blood.  It was a wonder that she was not dead from blood loss. 
Underneath the blood, he could smell her perfume, semen, and a variety of men's colognes.  There
was more than one assailant.  He filed that for future use.  Blair could help him isolate each
fragrance when he was recovered from the shock.  With that thought, Jim glanced at the young
man.  Blair was rocking slightly, his arms still tight against his body.  The heart rate was better but
still faster than normal.   He pulled his attention back to the matter at hand.  He did a
visual scan of the area.  There were tattered bits of the young woman's clothing which Jim and
Brown gathered carefully and placed into evidence bags.  The girl's purse lay under a
particularly full, fat shrub.  It, too, was collected and carefully sealed as evidence.  Finally, Jim
plucked an earring from the blood soaked ground and dropped it into a bag that Brown
was holding.  He removed the rubber gloves from his hands, careful to turn them inside out as he
did, then slapped Brown on the shoulder.  He climbed out of the hedge and threw the gloves into
an evidence bag and handed it off to one of the forensics techs..  Taking a deep breath, he
headed to the spot where his partner sat.  He sat down beside Blair and clasped a hand on a
shaking knee. 

"Can you talk to me, Chief?"

"Yeah.  I'm okay, Jim.  Just a little shook up."

"I can certainly understand that.  Tell me what happened."

"I was walking to the Student Union to go to the bookstore.  I was passing the hedges and I saw
a shoe under one of the bushes.  I almost kept walking, but then I saw red on the shoe and I
realized that it was blood.  I looked through the hedge and saw her, man.  It was horrible.  She
was all cut up, and there was so much blood.  I yelled for someone to call an ambulance and the
police.  There were some students standing around, and I suppose one of them did call.  I went in
there where she was and checked for a pulse.  She was alive, Jim, and she was still bleeding.  I
didn't have enough room back there so I picked her up and brought her out where I could see her
injuries and try to stop the bleeding.  Maybe I shouldn't have done that but I couldn't help
her back there, Jim.  I had to do it."

"It's okay, buddy.  Go on."

"I used my shirt to try to stop the bleeding and waited for someone to come.  God, Jim! Why
would somebody do that to someone else?  She was tortured, and I think she was raped, Jim. 
This guy is sick, Jim."

"It's not just one person, Chief.  I picked up several different men's colognes over there."

"Ah, man!"  Blair buried his head in his hands and Jim moved his own hand from Blair's knee to
his guide's neck.   

"We'll find them, Chief."

Blair nodded without raising his head.

Jim sighed.

___________________________________________________________

Several hours later, Jim heard a familiar heartbeat and, without even raising his eyes, closed the
file on his desk.  Blair plopped down beside him seconds later, his backpack hitting the
floor beside Jim's feet.  "So, what's on the agenda?"

"You out of class?"  Jim inquired, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah.  Just had the two today."

Jim bit his lip.  He hated to do this.  "I need to go see Yoko Timura.  The hospital called just a
few minutes ago to let us know she was awake." 

Blair's smile faltered and his complexion lost all color.  "I see."

"If you don't want to go, Chief, I understand.  You can work on paperwork."

Blair touched the file on Jim's desk and Jim snatched it away quickly.  Blair raised his hand and
ran it through his hair.  "Top secret?"  He pointed at the file.

Jim grimaced.  "You just don't want to see it."

Blair nodded, a frown on his face.  "Gotcha.  No, Jim, I'll go with you.  Just let me go to men's
room and I'll be ready." 

Jim let his partner get out of the room before he tossed the offending folder back on the desk and
swore under his breath.

"What's up, Jim?" his captain, Simon Banks, asked as he approached.

"Sandburg's not handling the Timura case very well."

Simon nodded in sympathy.  "I can understand that.  Poor kid."

"Yeah."

"He's tough, though.  He'll be all right."  Simon slapped him on the shoulder and sauntered away.

"As soon as he's done throwing up his lunch," Jim whispered to himself.

_________________________________________________

Blair rinsed his mouth and stared at his pale reflection in the mirror.  "Get a damn grip, will you?"
he scolded.  "She's alive.  Just keep that in mind.  She's still alive.  She could have died
but she didn't.  Now get your ass out there and help Jim catch these monsters."  He swallowed
hard and pushed himself away from the sink.  He shook himself and drew his shoulders up. 
Nodding at himself once for reinforcement and plastering a smile on his face, he left the men's
room.  

Jim was waiting for him in the hall.  "Ready, Chief?"

"Yeah.  Let's go."  

Jim grasped his shoulder briefly then turned to the elevator.  Silence fell between them and
reigned supreme until they got into the truck.  Blair had used the time to mull over the few facts
they had in the case.  It occurred to him just as he settled in the truck and snapped on his seatbelt
that Yoko Timura was a Japanese name.  He shook his head.

"What is it, Chief?"

"Just proof positive how stupid bigots really are."

"What do you mean?"

"Yoko Timura is Japanese."

"Yeah?"

"Jim, they carved 'Chink' on her.  She's not Chinese.  She's Japanese."

"Well, I'll be damned.  You're right.  I hadn't thought that.  So we know our assailants are as
stupid as they are brutal.  Good, they might be easier to catch.  I just hope this is an isolated
incident.  That maybe she pissed somebody off or something.  I really don't want to even think
about what could happen if some crazed hate group is on the rampage in Cascade."

"I'm going to talk to the Dean about sponsoring some cultural sensitivity seminars.  They've done
that kind of thing before and it can't hurt."

"Sounds good to me," Jim commented as he backed the truck out of the parking space.  

The rest of the conversation on the trip to the hospital was on much more pleasant matters.  Blair
realized that Jim was doing his best to keep Blair's mind occupied and it made him feel warm. 
Jim was in full Big Brother mode again.  Finally, after Jim brought up the possibility of getting
tickets to the next Jags game for them for the third time, Blair reached out and touched
his shoulder.  "Jim, really, I'm okay.  Chill out, man." 

Jim made a face at him.  "I'll believe that when you manage to talk about this case and keep your
lunch down." 

Blair rolled his eyes.  "I can't believe that you heard me.  That you *listened*!"

"Blair, I know you.  I didn't have to listen," Jim said softly.

Blair closed his eyes.  "Guess not.  Especially since I just told on myself, huh?"

Jim chuckled.  "Not too bright, Darwin.  You're slipping.  What happened to obfuscation?"

"Been hanging around you too long and I'm losing my technique," Blair quipped.

______________________________________________________

Yoko Timura did not get a look at her attackers.  They all wore masks.  There were five of them,
though.  Blair had held her hand while she told Jim what she remembered about the attack.  Jim
had listened and asked questions, having to forcibly unclench his jaw to get out the words.  As
bad as dealing with Yoko Timura's trauma and tears was, worse than that by far was listening to
his partner's erratic heartbeat and watching him fight for control of his own emotions.  Jim had
wrapped up as quickly as possible and thanked the young woman.  He had promised her to do all
he could to find her attackers.  Blair had nearly flown out of the room.  

They were in the truck before either of them spoke again.  "I'm really sorry about that, Jim."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Chief.  How about a late lunch?"

"I ate earlier, Jim."

"Yeah, and the toilet in the men's room got most of that, didn't it?" 

Blair frowned at him.  "What are you, my mother?"

"No, your Blessed Protector.  Or did you forget that?"

The frown disappeared, replaced by a sardonic smirk.  "If I had known that you would hold on to
that comment like you have and use it to hover over me, I would never have said that."

"Too late.  Besides, I haven't eaten and I'm hungry."  Jim started the truck.  "And I don't hover."

"Right.  And my name's Dr. McKay."

"McCoy."

"No, no, it's the Gaelic pronunciation, remember?" Blair had a true smile on his face finally.

"Oh yeah." Jim cuffed him on the head gently and then backed out of the parking space.  "You're
still eating something." 

Blair shook his head and rolled his eyes but he did not disagree.  That was enough.  

Or so Jim thought.  When they sat down to eat at the China Express, Blair picked at the food on
his plate.  Jim's sentinel sight registered that very little if any of it made it to his mouth.  He was
about to comment on that fact when his cell phone rang. Frowning, he took the offending object
from his pocket and answered it.  "Ellison."

He listened to Simon's voice on the other end while examining Blair's inquiring eyes.  "Yes, sir. 
On the way," he finally said and hung up.

"What's up?" Blair asked the question that Jim did not want to answer.

"There's been another incident at the University."

Blair paled and a shudder ran through his body.  The fork poised in his hand dropped to the still
full plate.  "How bad?"

"Pretty bad from what Simon was told.  Are you okay, Chief?  Maybe you should sit this one out,
huh?"

The young man across from him took a deep breath and straightened his back, squaring his
shoulders. "I'll be fine, Jim."

Jim started to argue the point but decided that it would probably be useless and time consuming. 
He nodded and threw his napkin in his plate.  

_______________________________________________________


Rafe approached them as they got out of the truck near the English building.  "Hi, guys."

Blair waved his hello as Jim spoke. "What have we got?"

"Victim is a male this time.  His name is Hassan Jambar.  He's an African exchange student."

Blair could not control the gasp that escaped him. 

"You know him, Chief?"

"Yeah," he answered, "he's a nice guy.  He's an artist."

"He may not be after this," Rafe said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Jim asked.

"His hands have been crushed."

"Ah, damn." Blair doubled over, placing his hands on his knees.  He felt Jim's touch on his back. 
"I'm okay," he whispered.  

"That's not all.  There's a rope burn around his neck and he has a--"

Blair stood and gaped at the young detective.

"A what?" Jim asked.

"A racial epithet written in permanent marker, we think, on his forehead."

Fury filled Blair's vision with a red haze and he clenched his fists.  

"Chief, are you all right?" Jim squeezed his shoulder. "You can wait for me in the truck if you'd
rather."

"I'm fine.  Is he conscious?" Blair inquired.

"Yeah."

"Then I'm going with you to talk to him.  He knows me.  It may help him to have a familiar face,
you know?"

"Yeah, I know.  Come on." 

Blair let Jim take the lead as the two of them made their way over to the ambulance where Hassan
Jambar lay on a stretcher.  Though Jim stepped into the ambulance ahead of him, Blair spoke
to the young man first.  "Hassan, it's Blair."  He laid a gentle hand on his student's arm as he
moved into Hassan's line of sight.

The young man opened his eyes and gave Blair a small, trembling smile.  "Hello, sir," came a
softly accented reply.

"Hassan, this is my partner, Jim Ellison.  He's a police officer.  He needs to ask you some
questions, okay?"

Hassan nodded and Blair stepped back to allow Jim to move closer.  Blair did not hear most of
Jim's questions.  His eyes focused on the ruined hands and the mark of the rope on his student's
neck and lastly on the ugly, hateful word scrawled across the forehead.  Jim's hand on his arm
snapped him out of the mini-zone he had entered while tracing the letters and branding them into
his memory.  Handwriting was as unique as fingerprints.  He wanted to remember the shape,
curve, and point of each of those letters.  Just in case he saw it again.  Jim got out of the
ambulance and Blair paused one moment more to give Hassan what he hoped was a reassuring
smile.  Impulsively, he reached out and placed the palm of his hand on the young man's forehead,
covering at least that bit of the cruelty inflicted.  Hassan sighed heavily.  

"Thank you, Mr. Sandburg," he whispered.

"If you need anything, call.  Okay?"

"Yes." He smiled wearily.

Blair removed his hand and stepped out of the ambulance.  The paramedics climbed in and pulled
the door shut after them.  Moments later, the vehicle pulled away, leaving Blair watching it
go with a very heavy heart.  When it disappeared around a corner, he turned to Jim.  "Um, did he
see anything?"

"No.  Masks, same as the Timura girl."  Jim looked at him with a puzzled expression.  "What'd
you do, Chief?  Zone out on me?  You were there."

"I kinda wasn't listening."  Blair swallowed hard and stared at his feet.

"I know.  I understand." Jim clasped a big hand on his shoulder and led him back to the spot
where Hassan Jambar had been dumped like so much garbage.  They had witnesses to question
and a crime scene to go over. 

_________________________________________________

Simon tossed his glasses on his desk and rubbed his tired eyes.  "So nobody saw anything?  He
was snatched up outside his dorm this morning, in broad daylight, and nobody noticed?  Taken to
an unknown location, beaten, nearly hung and nobody heard or saw?  And then dumped, again, in
broad daylight, out of a moving car, onto the lawn in front of the English department of Rainier
University and nobody even saw the car?"

"That's what we were told, sir," Jim answered as he sat on the table in Simon's office.  He was
absently flipping pages in the Jambar file, while keeping one ear trained on his captain's voice
and one on the heartbeat of the slumped figure of his guide at his desk.  "Witnesses said that they
saw nothing out of the ordinary until Hassan Jambar stumbled up the steps of the English
building and collapsed in front of the door.  There are a lot of hedges there, Simon and the truth
of it is, those kids saw plenty of cars go by but their view was blocked.  They saw the car but
have no idea which car it was that Jambar was thrown from and they can't remember them all."

"Damn.  How's Sandburg handling this?  This kid was one of his students, right?"

"Yeah.  He's pissed off and depressed as hell at the same time."

Simon shook his head sadly.  

"He'll be okay, Simon."  

"Yeah, I know.  In the meantime, I know a local psychologist that has done some work on hate
groups.  I think I'll call her in and see what she can tell us."

"Who's this?"

"Dr. Jadyn Thomas.  I met her through Daryl, actually.  She was invited to speak at his school last
year.  She was good.  Even impressed Daryl, and you and I both know how hard that is."

Jim chuckled, remembering Simon's headstrong son's last visit to the station and the argument
that ensued and spilled forth from Simon's office.  "Yes, sir, I do.  Is he still talking about going
to back packing through Europe after graduation?"  Not an idea Simon had liked at all, Jim
thought, while trying not to smirk.

"It's not funny, Ellison and yes, he is.  Your partner certainly didn't help matters much, you
know?"

Jim shrugged.  "What can I do?  My partner is as stubborn as your son." Jim grinned at him and
headed for the door.

"I know that's right," Simon muttered.  

He almost laughed but just then, Blair looked up and suddenly, Jim did not feel like laughing any
more.  Blair did not look like Blair should look.  It was a stranger's eyes that met Jim's, for
Blair's eyes had never looked so empty.  Jim felt his heart flip in his chest.  He made his way to his
desk.  "Why don't you call it a day, Chief?  You look exhausted."

"It's only 3:45, Jim.  If you don't mind, I just thought I'd stay here until about 4:30 and work on
some paperwork then head over to the University library for a little while.  You could probably
use some help with the paperwork, right?"

"Actually, I don't really have any paperwork to do, Chief.  See, I got this great partner that gets it
all done before I even get a chance to let it pile up."  Jim smiled at him.  "Besides, don't you have
a date tonight?  Why don't we both head home a few minutes early and you can get all spiffied up
for what's-her-name while I run out for a Wonderburger." 

"*Spiffied*, Jim?  What kind of word is spiffied?  Her name is Savannah and I postponed the date. 
I just don't feel like going out."

Jim sighed.  "Blair, I know this case sucks but you can't let it get to you like this."

"I can't check this at the door, Jim!  I just can't!  You're a white Anglo-Saxon male, Jim.  You
don't know how it feels." 

Realization slapped Jim in the face and he blinked.  "Damn."

"Yeah, that and a few other choice words."

"You could be a target," Jim muttered as he rubbed his temples with one hand.  "I hadn't even
realized--"

"I figured as much.  It's okay, Jim.  You don't see me as a Jew.  Hell, I'm so fallen away that I
don't see myself as a Jew until somebody throws it in my face.  Mom never was much on
organized religion and me, well, I had a bar mitzvah but that was my grandmother's idea and I try
to remember all the holidays but..." he shrugged.  

"Ellison, Sandburg, get in here." Simon's order drew the partners' attention.  Apologetic smiles
were exchanged in lieu of words as they moved to comply.  "Sit down, you two.  Jade is on
her way over with some information that you may want to see." 

"Jade?" Blair asked.

"Dr. Jadyn Thomas, local psychologist, specializes in hate groups, Sandburg."

"I know her."

"Tell me you didn't date her, Sandburg."

Blair almost laughed.  "No, I didn't date her, Simon.  I haven't dated every woman I know."

"That's a miracle," Simon grumbled.

Jim grinned.  "So, how do you know her, Chief?"

"I met her at a seminar I went to on serial killers."

"You went to a seminar on serial killers?  What for?" Jim questioned.

"Well, it was after Lash and I wanted to be better prepared for the next one, you know?  Anyway,
we talked.  She's a real nice woman.  I liked her but she was seeing someone else." 


Jim noticed the slight scowl on Simon's face as Blair mentioned his interest in the woman.  He
would have to remember to tell Blair later that perhaps Dr. Thomas was still off-limits.  The
three of them spent the next several minutes discussing the Jags and possible plans for a fishing
trip as they waited for the good doctor to arrive.  When she did, Jim's speculations were proven
to be truth as the rather small woman blew into the office and was immediately embraced by their
captain.  Jim had to reach over and close Blair's mouth with a quick pop on the younger man's
chin.  Blair glared at him and Jim had to stifle a chuckle. 

_______________________________________________________

The introductions and re-introductions were over and Jade, as she preferred to be called, opened
her briefcase. "Okay, here is a list of all the known hate groups that operate in this area of
the country."  Jade placed a surprisingly hefty stack of paper in front of them on the table.  Blair
was taken aback.  The apparent volume of material she had collected was disturbing and a bit
overwhelming.  

"You're kidding?" he asked.

"Afraid not.  There are lots of them out there.  However, rest assured that while the total number
is large, some of them are very selective about who they hate so we can eliminate some right
away.  Like these folks," she pointed to a name on the first page, "they only hate criminals."  

"Excuse me?"  Jim looked as puzzled as Blair felt.

"They have been accused of tracking down released cons and harassing and even killing them.  No
proof yet, no arrests or anything but they have spoken very loudly regarding allowing scum
on the streets.  Who knows?  Maybe they did, maybe they didn't but let's face facts. Sorry guys,
but cops don't really push cases where the victim is a convicted rapist, murderer, child
molester, etc.  Oh, and here's this group.  They don't like writers." 

"Writers?" Blair laughed a little.

"Well, a select group.  Occult fiction writers, mainly.  They get a little ticked off when their
religion gets misrepresented and such.  Death threats, harassment, an assault or two is their MO. 
Anyway, remember, we included anyone who has ever expressed a desire to see any other person
or group harmed in any way.  There are anti-abortion groups on this list because some of them
have said that abortion doctors should be shot for what they do.  The fact of the matter is, right
now, the majority of these folks are harmless, but that may not always be the case.  Tomorrow,
one of these groups that we ignore may get a new leader, a charismatic one, that leads them in a
not so harmless direction."  She smoothed her short cinnamon-red hair back away from her face
and sat down.

"I never knew there were so many," Blair remarked as he flipped through some of the pages.

"Most people don't realize, and that is what is really dangerous about them.  They operate
undetected most of the time." 

"Well, let's get to it.  So, Jade, what are we looking for?  General bigots?" Jim inquired.

"Pretty much.  Racists, in particular. You've had two victims, one Oriental, one black.  So they
don't stick to one race.  Could be the obvious.  The Ku Klux Klan, although I actually doubt
that.  They tend to be more subtle.  The White Aryan Resistance, the Chosen Sons, they're new,
by the way.  The Neo-Nazis, the list goes on and on."

"Just a few days ago, I spoke with a friend who specifically studies the movement and growth of
hate groups in this area.  I have good news and bad news.  He says there aren't any new groups
moving in.  That's the good news.  The bad news is that the groups that are here are alive and
well.  Primarily, we are looking at a few Neo-Nazi groups, one which actively recruits on
Rainier campus, and the White Aryan Resistance which is actually not what you'd call separate
from the Neo-Nazi's, just more sophisticated.  They like to use the young guys in the Neo-Nazi
groups as foot soldiers, in other words, fall guys, for their dirtiest deeds."

"Perfect.  Just what we need." Jim sighed.  Blair bit his lip and prayed to wake up.  But the
nightmare persisted and he was forced to acknowledge it as reality.  Reality really sucked
sometimes. 

___________________________________________________________  

One hour later, Jim had a healthy list of suspects and a splitting headache.  He thanked Jade and
headed for the truck, his obviously troubled partner slightly behind him .  He climbed
into the driver's seat and waited for Blair who had stopped to talk to Rhonda.  A worried frown
took over Jim's face.  He had really had no idea that Cascade was infested with these
hatemongers. Sure, there had been that one case where those black churches had been bombed
but that turned out to the work of a one guy.  This, however, was not one unbalanced person. 
Then there was Kincaid, but he and his cronies were hopefully gone for good and Jim had been
ready to write that off as an aberration.  Apparently, he had been mistaken and naive.  Jade's list
had included all of the Pacific Northwest, true, but she kept pointing out which groups had
supporters right in Cascade, and Jim was alarmed.  Jim could not help the sense of disgust and
dread building up in his chest.   There were active Neo-Nazis in Cascade.  That probably alarmed
him the most, if the truth be told.  Sandburg.  *Enough said,* Jim's worried mind whispered.  And
these people were on the Rainier campus.  Jim sighed and rubbed his temples while his
imagination took that fact and ran with it.  Blair and skinheads on a collision course.  The scenario
just did not, could not have a satisfactory outcome for Jim.  So deep in thought was he that when
Blair opened the passenger door, Jim nearly jumped out of his skin.

Blair looked shocked.  "You didn't hear me coming, did you?"

"I have a headache." Jim hoped that Blair would leave it alone.  Wasted energy on that hope.  He
had known that, though.

"Where were you, Jim?"

"Right here."

"Yeah, right.  You were a million miles away.  Otherwise, your supersonic ears would have
known exactly where *I* was long before I got to the truck.  What were you thinking about?"

"Just the case, Chief."

Blair nodded sagely.  "I'll give you a shoulder rub and make you some willow bark tea when we
get home.  Maybe they'll help with your headache."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Not a problem."  

"I'll take you by the university to get your car then I'm going to go pick up the first guy on the
suspect list.  Meet me back here?"

"Gotcha."

Jim cranked the truck and pulled out into traffic.  The cab of the truck was silent for several
minutes before Blair spoke again.
 
"You know what I was thinking about, Jim?"

"No, what's that?"

"I was thinking about the fact that there are Neo-Nazis on campus and I was trying to picture my
classes and trying to determine if any of them were in those classes.  I don't like thinking about
it, Jim, but I can't help it.  There are people on campus who would hate me because of my name."

"I know you're worried, Blair.  I could arrange some protection until we catch these guys."

"Who's gonna protect the rest of the students?  Can you arrange protection for every minority
student on campus?  Besides, this goes beyond the people responsible for the assaults.  I've always
known that in certain places with certain people, I could be a target, Jim.  That is never far from
my mind.  I just never realized that one of those places could be Rainier, or my classroom and that
some of those people could be my students or my classmates.  Somehow, I thought in a place of
learning, that kind of ignorance would be dispelled, non-existent.  Call me naive but I really
wanted to believe that this was somebody outside the University.  Now, I know that it could very
well be someone inside the University.  Hell, Jim, it could be someone inside one of my classes.  I
hate that."

"I know, Blair.  I'm sorry."  Jim reached over and grasped his young guide's shoulder.  "You
wanted to know what I was thinking about when you got in the truck?  The very same thing,
Chief, the very same thing.  I want you to have protection.  I'm worried about you."

"You don't know how tempted I am to take you up on that but no, Jim.  I can't let this scare me
into jumping at shadows and dragging around a body guard.  I'll be careful."

"Sandburg--"

"Jim, please, I've made up my mind about this.  Rainier is my ground and I'm gonna stand on it,
okay?" 

Jim swore silently.  "I have conditions, Chief."

Blair gave him a rueful smile.  "Let's hear 'em, Jim."

"No more late nights.  Bring your stuff back to the loft.  If you see that you going to be late when
you're supposed to meet me, then you call.  As a matter of fact, call anyway so I'll know
when to expect you and where you are.  And park that piece of junk you call a car closer to the
building, and if you absolutely have to be there at night, under a damn streetlight.  I don't
think that's too unreasonable."

"Piece of junk?"  Blair smirked as he glanced around the cab of the truck.  "Look who's talking. 
You know, you picked on me about my 'classic' and then you go out and buy this.  Why is my
car a piece of junk and your truck is a 'classic?'"

"Because mine runs, Chief." Jim grinned at him.  "So do we have a deal or do you get a shadow?"

Blair rolled his eyes.  "We have a deal."

"Good.  Now, don't roll your eyes at me again, Junior, or else."

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy.  I'm shaking."  The smirk was back on his partner's face and Jim just had
to cuff him on the side of the head.

"Smartass."

"And cute too."

"Excuse me?"

"My ass.  Savannah says it's cute."

"I truly wouldn't know, Chief."

"Damn, Jim, I hope not."

Jim shook his finger at his guide.  "Watch it, Ace."

"Kinda hard to do without a mirror," the young man quipped as he turned to look over his
shoulder.

"That's it.  This discussion is over.  I'm not even going there." 

"I win!" Blair exulted and Jim chuckled.  His guide was happy again and that was good enough.

______________________________________________________

"Come on, Derrick.  We know that you're the head honcho on Rainier campus.  We know that all
your skinhead buddies take orders from you.  Question is, did you give the orders or do you
have a few rogues in your organization?  Which is it?"  Blair watched from the observation room
with Simon as Jim circled the young man seated at the table in the interrogation room.  He had
gotten back from the university just in time to see Jim bring the man in for questioning.  Blair
shook his head.  The kid had gotten belligerent when Jim had tried to talk to him at his dorm,
Simon had explained.  So Jim had brought him in.

"I didn't give any orders for any of my boys to attack anybody,  and none of my people have gone
rogue on me.  We don't have a thing to do with those attacks."  Blair examined Derrick Baker as
he spoke.  He was pretty stereotypical as skinheads went.  Shaved head, combat boots, jeans,
t-shirt, a few tattoos but nothing overtly racist.  

"And not a single double negative in there.  You know, Derrick, you seem like a smart, educated
guy.  For a bigot." 

"You've got nothing on me, cop."

"Baker, I believe you." Jim told him.  Baker looked incredulous.   "No, really, I do," Jim assured.
"I believe that you didn't give the orders but I don't know if I'm sure that you don't have a few
guys who are out doing what bigots seem to like to do.  Maybe you know about it or maybe you
don't. Maybe they aren't telling you.  Which is it? Do you know about it, Derrick?  Or are you in
the dark?  Is it your people?  I don't think you're sure.  Are you sure, Derrick?"

Blair could see Baker swallow hard.  "No," he whispered.

"What was that?" Jim asked and Blair smiled, knowing Jim heard the young man loud and clear.

"No.  I'm not sure."

"I see."

"But I'll find out."

"And then what, Derrick?"

"I'll put a stop to it."

"Why?  I thought this kind of thing is what you were all about."

"It's the wrong time and place.  Wrong methods as well.  We'll be ready one day, cop.  Then you
can either join us or join them.  If I were you, I'd go with the winner."

"I intend to, Baker.  I intend to." Jim looked straight at the two way mirror then and gave his
partner a slight smile before turning back to Baker.  "Now, I'm going to tell you what you are
going to do, Derrick.  You see, you're going to do more than put a stop to it.  If you find out any
of your people are involved, you're going to tell me who they are."

Baker was shaking his head even before Jim stopped speaking.  "Dream on, cop."

Jim smiled and Blair could not help but think that an iceberg would have held more warmth.  "Suit
yourself, Baker.  Just remember, if I find out that your people were involved and that
you knew, you're going down with 'em.  It'll be really hard to take part in your glorious revolution
from a jail cell. See you 'round."  Jim left the room and quickly appeared in the doorway
of the observation room.  "He doesn't know who is it but when I mentioned rogues in his group
being responsible, his heart rate shot up.  I think we'd better watch these guys, Simon."

"I'll put together a few surveillance teams."  Simon frowned and chewed on the end of his cigar a
little as he left the room. 

"Sorry I had to keep you out of there, Chief."

"I understand that, Jim." Blair assured the Sentinel as he turned to look at the man in the other
room again.

"Have you taught him?" Jim inquired.

Blair shook his head.  "Maybe he took one look at my name on the class schedules and steered
clear of the anthrop. department."

"No great loss there, I think," Jim remarked.

Blair shook his head again.  "You're wrong there, Jim.  Every soul we lose to these hatemongers
is a loss.  And who knows what he might have been if he hadn't been taught or indoctrinated into
this hatred? Any loss is great."

________________________________________________________

Walayla Meadowbrook gripped the strap of her backpack as she made her way across the parking
lot toward her car.  It was getting dark and she needed to get home before her father got worried. 
She tried to dig in her purse with one hand to find her keys but just could not seem to find them in
all the junk that tended to accumulate in the big bag.  She stopped and dropped the backpack
on the ground.  Holding the bag open with one hand, she dug with the other.  Her hand had just
closed on the elusive keys when the van pulled along beside her.  She glanced up just in time to
see two masked men pour out of the side door.  She only had time for a short scream before she
was dragged inside the vehicle and was gone, her backpack still sitting in the nearly deserted
parking lot.

_________________________________________________________


"Morning, Chief." Jim watched as his roommate rubbed his eyes and yawned as he made his way
out of his bedroom and into the bath.

"Morning," the young man mumbled.

Jim chuckled.  The only time Blair was in low gear was before his shower in the morning.  He
would go into the bathroom, shuffling his feet and half-asleep and come out like someone had lit a
fire beneath him.  He would not slow down again until he collapsed into his bed, usually sometime
long after midnight.  It was not often that Jim got to watch this revival as Blair was usually up
before him and making breakfast while Jim was in the shower, but this morning Jim had awoke
early and decided to go and get breakfast.  He wondered if it had even occurred to his nearly
incoherent partner that the morning's routine had been altered.  It would probably dawn on him
about the time that water hit him in the face.  Jim settled at the table and flipped absent-
mindedly though the paper.  Minutes later, the bathroom door opened and a revved-up whirlwind
of anthropologist blew into the kitchen.

"Sorry, Jim.  I'll have breakfast done in a few.  Did I oversleep?"

"Hey!  Chill out, Junior.  I got up early and I bought breakfast.  Sit down.  You have a blueberry
bagel with blueberry cream cheese waiting on you over here."  Jim waved his partner over to the
table.  

"Blueberry cream cheese?" Blair picked up the bagel.

"It's something new the deli down the street is trying out.  It smelled pretty good and I know you
like the blueberry bagel with the plain cheese so I took a chance."

Jim almost laughed as Sandburg examined the bagel with a critical eye.  "Looks good," he finally
commented before biting into it.  "Mmm, tastes good, too"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Jim scolded with a smile.

Blair made a face at him and sat down.  "I guess this means that you had the 'dreaded donuts of
death' for breakfast." 

"Oh, please, cut the melodrama.  'Dreaded donuts of death,'" Jim chuckled.  "I had my favorite,
yes, I did.  And they aren't the 'dreaded donuts of death.' They're buttermilk donuts."

"Jim, do you know why there's a hole in the middle of a donut?"

"I'm sure you're about to enlighten me."

"Because that was where the nutritional value was.  Couldn't leave that in there.  Sugar, fat, and
cholesterol, that's what you ate for breakfast."

"And it sure was delicious, Chief. Now, if that is so though, explain the hole in your bagel."

"That's where they cut out the sugar, fat, and cholesterol that they used to make your donuts."

Jim rolled his eyes and gave up.  "Eat.  We have to get to the station."

Blair saluted him and Jim reached over with the newspaper and batted his guide on the head with
it.  "Hey!  What was that for?"

"That salute was sloppy, soldier.  Better practice.  And get a haircut."  Jim got up and headed for
the bathroom but his sentinel ears heard the smart remark mumbled around blueberry bagel about
Jim having Army flashbacks.  He smiled as he turned off the light Blair had left on.  

A few minutes later, the two men climbed into the truck.  They were halfway to the station when
Simon's call came in.  Jim hung up the cell phone and turned to face his partner.  He knew that
his expression would tell his guide all he needed to know.  He was apparently right as Blair bit his
lip and closed his eyes, hanging his head.  Jim touched him on the shoulder then turned the truck
in the direction of the university.

"This is getting so old, so fast, man." 

"I know, Chief."

_________________________________________________________________

"Three victims in two days.  The press is having a field day and we have no leads at all.  I am not
a happy man, gentlemen, and if I have to be unhappy, so do you.  Walayla Meadowbrook is still
in surgery.  The doctors are not sure she's going to make it. She was scalped, for god's sake!  I
want these guys." Simon paced the conference room where his detectives and his anthropologist
sat going through any and all information they had.  A knock on the door interrupted his lecture. 
"Come!" he barked.

"Good morning, Simon," Jade Thomas smirked at him as she entered the room.  Simon smiled
apologetically and she turned her attention to the rest of the room.  "Good morning, gentlemen."
She sat down in the empty chair beside Sandburg.  "Sorry, I'm late.  I was running a computer
search on similar crimes on college campuses around the country and found a few things.  What
did I miss?" 

"Not a whole lot.  We don't have a whole lot to go on.  We do have a third victim." Jim explained,
passing the folder down to her. 

"Oh yes, I heard.  The media is all in a frenzy over this.  It was all I could find on the TV and the
radio this morning." She opened the folder and Simon was amazed as she managed to keep her
calm demeanor despite the sudden lack of color in her face.  "Prairie nigger," she read the spray
painted message on the girl's back from one of the pictures.  She looked up at Simon and for a
moment Simon was certain that he saw the fury of all hell in her green eyes then it was gone.  Just
a flash then nothing as she nodded and took a deep breath.  She closed the folder.  "Any news on
her condition?"

"Still in surgery," Blair answered.  "It doesn't look good."

"The surveillance teams have nothing?" she directed the question at Brown and Rafe who were
seated across the table from her. 

"Not a thing.  If it's the skinheads on campus then they are doing it without leaving their dorms
and apartments," Brown answered.

"Derrick Baker called a meeting of his group last night.  They met, he read them the riot act, told
them that they better hope that they weren't involved.  The meeting broke up and they all
went straight home.  Taggert and Connor are watching Baker now and the other surveillance
teams are still in place but I don't see how it could be them," Rafe explained.

She nodded and drew several computer printouts out of her briefcase and threw them on the
table.  "These are reports of similar hate crimes on college campuses around the country.  Most
of them have been traced back to various hate groups and the people responsible are in jail but a
few are unsolved.  The crimes went on for a little while but then stopped."

"What are you suggesting? A traveling hate group?" Simon asked incredulously.

"I have no idea, Simon, I mean, Captain Banks.  But I no longer think that we are dealing with
one of the run-of-the-mill groups we have information about.  Something is bugging the hell out
of me about this and I can't put my finger on it." 

"You think we're staring at a clue and not seeing it?  Like what?" Jim prompted.

"I don't know.  Maybe it's just me.  I'd love to get input from all of you.  Otherwise, I'll let you
know as soon as I figure it out."

Simon watched as Blair gathered the papers on the table and began to sift through them. 
Conversations went on around him but Sandburg was carefully examining the papers and Simon
wanted to see what he would find.  One glance at Jim confirmed that he too was watching his
partner, silent and patient.  Both men had come to expect new perspectives and insights from the
young man and they waited for some of those insights as the pages were turned and the brow
furrowed in thought.  Sandburg looked up then, not at any one person but past all of them, the
ideas nearly visible in his blue eyes.  

Simon almost jumped at the sound of Jim's question, breaking his concentration on Blair. "Do you
have something, Blair?" 

"It's not one group.  They aren't traveling.  All of these have happened during the same time of
each semester, sometimes simultaneously.  So it can't be the same people.  Jim, we need
to be looking at fraternities."

"Fraternities?" Simon leaned over the table to get closer.  "Why?"

"All of these unsolved crimes have taken place during the period of time when most of the Greek
organizations on campuses are having Rush Week and initiation.  I think we may be looking at a
new form of hazing." The rest of the room was suddenly silent. 

"Sandburg, are you saying that you think a fraternity may be using hate crimes as a initiation rite?"
Jim asked, sitting up in his chair.

Blair only nodded.

"That's it!" Jade exclaimed.  "That's what I was missing.  I knew the timing had to be important
but I couldn't figure out why."

"Yes!  A lead, finally!" Simon slapped the table and stood up.

"Don't get happy yet, Simon," Blair spoke.  "Never has there been a more exclusive and closed
society as the college fraternity.  There won't be any inside information, no undercover agents, no
turncoats turning state's evidence.  If this is being perpetrated by a fraternity, this is going to be a
hard case to crack.  There is a perfectly good reason why these cases are unsolved if there
is a fraternity involved."

"He's right.  Brotherhood is a powerful thing, gentlemen.  We are going to have our work cut out
for us," Jade told them.

"And we don't have much time. The attacks go on for about two weeks and then stop all
together," Blair announced.

"That's not the only time restraint we are working under,"  Simon said, rubbing his eyes.  Every
head turned to him.  "The Feds are coming.  Hate crime is a federal offense.  They will
take this investigation from us.  We have 24 hours before they take over."

Jim swore and made certain assumptions around the conceptions of federal agents before turning
to stare out of the window.  Simon agreed with Jim's unkind theories.

_____________________________________________________________

Blair walked into his Anthrop. 101 class in a bad mood.  He had stayed up most of the night,
alternately working on the case, grading one set of tests, and making out another test.  The ones
he had graded were so bad that he wondered why he even bothered to come to this class.  Not to
mention that the revelations from the morning meeting in Simon's office had not exactly improved
his disposition.  He pulled the graded tests out of his bag and began to pass them out. "I'm getting
the feeling that some of you thought, mistakenly, of course, that this course was going to be
an easy 'A.'  Perhaps if you aren't willing to put forth a little more effort, you should stop by the
registrar's office on the way out today and drop this class now before you ruin your grade
point average.  I'm sorry but I am just not going to accept half-hearted, half-thought out answers. 
I expect you to think.  If I wanted a mindless regurgitation of facts, I would have given a multiple
choice test.  I don't give multiple choice tests.  To say I was disappointed would be like such an
understatement.  Now, where did we leave off?" Blair got out his notes and formally began the
class.  Fifty minutes later, his students filed out of the classroom, one by one.

"Mr. Sandburg, could I talk to you about my grade?" 

Blair looked up from his paper shuffling to meet the eyes of Kevin Harris.  "Sure, Kevin.  What's
the problem?"

"Sir, I think I had this one pegged. What was I missing?"  He was pointing at essay number three. 
Blair took the paper from his hand.  Kevin had made the best grade in the class, still a "C" but the
best one of the bunch just the same.  "I listed all of the characteristics of the Mayan religion that
were listed in the book."

"Well, see, that's the problem.  I listed several more in class and none of them are here, Kevin.  I'm
sorry.  I did give you credit for what you had but I couldn't give you full credit because you only
half answered the question."

"I see.  Look, Mr. Sandburg, I need to maintain a 'B' to keep my scholarship.  I can't afford too
many 'C's'.  You can understand that, can't you?"

"Of course, I can.  I went to school on scholarships and grants and loans too.  Kevin, it's one test. 
You'll have lots more before the end of the semester.  Just try to come to class more often, okay? 
That way, you don't miss the lectures.  I say a lot of stuff that you just aren't going to find in that
book."

Kevin Harris smiled a smile that held no warmth.  Blair held out his paper to him, but the student
only glanced at it with a sneer and walked out.  Blair frowned and shrugged.  He dropped the
paper into his bag and headed back to his office. 

_________________________________________________________________

"Mark, he failed you, man!  The little kike failed you.  You're in the same boat as me.  We have to
keep our grades up to keep our scholarships."  Mark Coley listened as his best friend complained
about their Anthropology professor.  Mark frowned.  He had made the lowest grade in the class
apparently.  At least Kevin had passed.  He decided to point that out.

"What the hell are you complaining about?  You passed, man!  I should have never let you talk me
into partying with the frat the night before the test.  I'm not like you, Kev, I have to study!"

"You do want to be in the fraternity, don't you?  Man, we have been friends for a long time.  Now
we have the chance to be brothers.  You just got to get past your last test."

"Which is?"

Kevin smiled but only anger was in his eyes.  "Teach the Teach a lesson."

"What are you going on about?" Mark asked, fearing that he already knew, bits and pieces of
hushed conversation at the frat party falling into place to form a frightening and gruesome picture.

"Sandburg.  I think he needs to understand that there are people he needs to show a little respect
to, you know?" 

"Oh, man! Tell me I'm wrong!  Did that black guy and that Indian girl need to learn respect, too,
Kev?  Are you involved in that?  And Yoko?  Man, I liked her."

"That had nothing to do with liking or disliking people.  It has to do with loyalty!  With
brotherhood! But now, Sandburg, I think I can't honestly say that him I don't like."

 "Kevin, man, this is not right!  What did you do?"

"The African dude was mine.  They picked him out and helped me grab him.  I got to decide what
to do with him and do most of it myself.  Man, what a rush!  And I was there when they grabbed
that Indian girl."

"Kevin, this is sick!  They say that girl may die!  Forget it, dude.  I want no part of any of this, and
besides, I like Mr. Sandburg.  So I failed one test.  I deserved to fail that test, man, letting you
talk me into partying all damn night before it.  This fraternity stuff is you, Kev.  It's not really me
and I'll be damned before I let your delusions of brotherhood get me involved in this sick game."
Mark Coley turned to walk away.

"Mark?"  He stopped.  "Don't you run your mouth to anybody about this, Mark.  We're friends
and it would be a damn shame if something were to happen to you.  You get my drift?"

"Yeah, Kevin.  I get your drift."  Mark continued on his way.

______________________________________________________________

Blair pulled his book out of his pack and along with it came Kevin Harris's discarded test paper. 
He picked it up and stared at it.  He had had students like Harris before.  They seemed to
think that they were owed good grades.  He shook his head and was about to put the paper down
when something caught his eye.  A chill ran down his spine as he examined the scrawled
handwriting on the paper.  The "n" in Kevin was particularly of interest to him with its point just
there and a curve just so.  A shaky hand fumbled for his cell phone.  He had to call Jim.  A knock
on the door nearly caused Blair to have a heart attack.  "Come in," he said absently as he pressed
the speed dial on the phone before raising his eyes to see who had entered.  *Ski masks?*  The
momentary confusion quickly gave way to stark terror as he placed the importance of ski masks. 
He dropped the phone and immediately began to plan his defense.  As he counted off five
intruders, he maneuvered a chair between himself and the attackers and a letter opener provided
something of a weapon.  It was not good enough.

_________________________________________________________________

Jim grabbed up his phone and propped it on his shoulder while he continued to concentrate on his
driving. "Ellison."  Muffed voices and the sound of splintering wood answered him.  He
extended his hearing and caught the wild beating of a familiar heart.  Blair.  "Blair?!" he yelled
into the phone.  No answer, just the sounds of a struggle.  Jim stomped on the gas peddle and
spun the truck around in the direction of the campus.  

Minutes later, he screeched to a halt in front of the Hargrove Building.  He raced up the steps and
caught the scent of blood as soon as he entered the building.  Panic swept through him and he
ran to Blair's office.  The ornate door with its etched glass was open and inside was a disaster. 
Blair had not gone quietly and he had not gone uninjured.  Jim spotted a bloody letter opener
and clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.  He fought the urge to add to the destruction
around him.  He picked up the open cell phone from the desk and called it in.

_________________________________________________________________

"Why didn't he have police protection?!  I thought you fancied yourself some sort of Blessed
Protector!  Where the hell were you?  Why didn't you do something!?" Naomi Sandburg screamed
in his face and Jim tried very hard to maintain his temper. It was not working.  Why, oh why did
Naomi just have show up now?

"I tried but he wouldn't let me!"

"I trusted you to take care of him!  He's my only child, Jim Ellison!  He's the one thing in this
world that means more to me than my own life!  I love him!" 

"So do I!" Jim screamed and then looked around him at the shocked faces of the officers and
forensics people in his partner's office.  "Oh, for crying out loud, get your damn minds out of the
gutter!"

Naomi burst into laughter and Jim looked back at her as though she had lost her mind.  He was
about to tell her just that when the laughter dissolved into tears and she fell against him, burying
her face in his chest.  Jim was stunned and looked to Simon for some sort of sign.  His captain had
a sad expression on his face and it suddenly struck Jim that the man had been strangely silent
during the altercation.   

"Walayla Meadowbrook died an hour ago, Jim."

Jim closed his eyes and finally enfolded her in his arms as he fought his own tears.  "I'll find him,
Naomi."

"But how much of him will be left when you do?" she whispered into his shirt.

Jim could not answer.  He was wondering the same thing.

_______________________________________________________________

"The blood on the letter opener is not Sandburg's.  Wrong type.  Maybe he got in a good enough
shot that the injured party will seek medical attention. I've sent out a general alert to all the
area hospitals to be on the lookout for injuries that would fit."   Simon tossed a file on the table. 
"In the meantime, Jade has gotten us some information on the various fraternities on Rainier
campus.  She and I have been going through them looking for clues.  The university has been
quite helpful in supplying as much information as they are allowed to release about the
students who head up each frat.  We've found a few that might fit our profile, Gamma Pi Zeta and
Delta Epsilon Phi." 

"Just exactly what is our profile, Simon?" Jim paced around the table looking very much like a
caged cat to Jade, though she would not dare say so aloud.

She spoke up.  "We think that we are looking for upper middle class to upper class white kids, not
necessarily racist, per se, but looking for a sort of common bond.  Before true 'hazing' was
outlawed, students joining fraternities and sororities had to undergo all sort of trials and
tribulations to bond them with the others in the brotherhood or sisterhood.  These things ranged
from things that were just humiliating to things that were dangerous and, most of the time in the
case of fraternities, painful.  As you well know, lots of kids died."

"And what does this have to do with Blair?"  Jim was impatient and she could not really blame
him so she did not snap back.

"We think that since these kids aren't allowed to hurt each other any more to obtain some bond,
they decided to use crime as their bond.  Like the inner city gangs.  Commit a crime and gain
acceptance.  Really, when you think about it, there isn't that much difference between the two
types of organizations.  The main differences are color and money.  When you are the right color
and have money, your gang gets to be legal and prestigious.  Wrong color and no money, you get
to be the scourge of civilization."

"Now, that is Sandburg logic if I have ever heard it, and believe me, I have." Banks sighed and
sank down into a chair.

"Thank you for the political commentary, Dr. Thomas.  Can we move on?  Do we have search
warrants, and if not, when will they get here?" Jim rubbed his eyes.

"We don't have warrants, Jim.  The DA is a little reluctant to give us warrants without something
other than a profile.  He says we have no probable cause."

"Well, we can't just sit here and wait to...!" He did not finish.  Jim grimaced and shook his head. 
"I'm going to find my partner."

"Jim, don't cross any lines." Banks warned.  Jade was uncertain if the warning had even registered
with the angry man who stormed out of the office. 

_____________________________________________________________

Both frat houses invited Jim inside without even asking to see  a warrant.  He was given grand
tours and told over and over how appalled the members were at all the violence on campus.  In
the Delta house, Jim heard nothing to indicate that the president of the frat was anything but
sincere and truthful.  At the Gamma house, however, his host's heartbeat and body temperature
were off the scale. And that cologne was one of the scents he had picked up at the Timura crime
scene, he was sure of that, thanks to his guide.  However, there was no evidence of Blair
anywhere on the grounds.  Jim wanted to grab William Patrick Franklin the Third and shake him
until he told them where Blair was but he knew that he did not have any evidence, not any that
was admissible in court anyway.  "Mr. Franklin, thank you for your time and cooperation.  I have
to be going." 

He left the house, his mind racing.  He got in the truck and pulled away from the house, but he did
not go far.  He stopped the truck around the corner and focused his hearing on the Gamma
House, hoping against hope that they would talk about where they had taken his partner.  He
waited.   

_______________________________________________________________ 


"You know what I want to know?  How did they get Sandburg out of the building and off campus
without anybody seeing anything?" Simon grumbled as he lowered himself into a chair at the
conference room table.  "We interviewed every student remotely close to the Hargrove Building
and they all say they saw nothing.  Are people just that unobservant or what?"

"What," Jade stated solemnly.  

"What?" Brown asked.

"I mean, that they aren't that unobservant.  Some of them, maybe, but all of them, probably not. 
Remember, gentlemen, this is a closed society.  They protect their own.  I would almost
guarantee that some of those kids you talked to know exactly what happened to Blair. I'm sure
they were there solely to make sure that nobody else could or would see or say anything."

"Okay, here's another question.  Why Rainier?  Why now?  What gave these guys the idea?"
Brown asked the psychologist. 

"That's something you'd have to ask them.  If and when you catch them," Jade replied.
 
"Great." Rafe tossed his small notebook and pencil on the table.  "What now?"

"We see what Jim comes up with." Simon sighed.

____________________________________________________________
 
"Well?  What are you hearing?" Simon's voice boomed through the cell phone connection.

Jim winced at his captain's irritated voice.  He sighed.  "Mainly, you."

"Oh," he mumbled, "sorry."

Jim sighed again.  "It's all right.  I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said that quite that way.  They're
talking about it but they aren't talking about where the others have taken Blair.  Damn it! 
I wish I had something I could use to arrest them!" He brought his fist down hard on the dash in
front of him.  "If I could just get one or two of them in the interrogation room, I'd find out
where Blair is.  That, I know."

"Well, you know, Jim, maybe you left something back at the Gamma House.  Maybe you should
go check."

"Simon, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" 

"Stranger things have happened than a good detective leaving, oh say, a notepad of some kind
somewhere and overhearing some criminal activity when he returned to retrieve said notepad."

"I didn't have a notepad."

"Jim, are you trying to be stupid?  I know that, and you know that, but they don't know that, and
their attorneys won't know that, and their--"

"Okay, okay.  I was just trying to make sure that I truly have your blessing."

"Jim, go get those little bastards, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."  Jim got out of the truck.  

___________________________________________________________

"I'm not saying anything without my lawyer."  Franklin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
back arrogantly in the chair.  

Simon ran his hand over his face and frowned.  They had run up against a brick wall with Franklin
and his cohorts.  Three young men had been arrested at the frat house by Ellison and two
uniformed officers and brought in.  None of them were talking.  Simon had already been forced to
have Jim removed from the interrogation rooms.  The detective prowled the hallway outside
the door even as Simon glared at Franklin.  "Fine, Mr. Franklin.  Just remember that you were
given the opportunity to talk to me and maybe help yourself out a little and you turned it down. 
A girl is dead, Mr. Franklin.  A professor, who just happens to be a consultant with my
department, is missing.  Blair Sandburg has a lot of friends in this department."

"And my father has a lot of friends in state government, *Officer* Banks."

Simon smirked at the boy in response to the implication of his statement then turned and left the
room. 

______________________________________________________________

"The feds will be here in the morning," Brown remarked absently.

"I realize that," Jim snapped.  "Do you think that I need reminding that those idiots are going to
waltz in here and take my investigation from me?  Maybe you'd like to remind me that I'm
probably going to find my partner tomorrow morning half beaten to death while you're at it."

"I didn't mean--"

Jim held up one hand to stop the man.  "I know, I'm sorry.  I'm a little on edge right now." 

Just then the doors to the bullpen burst open and three men entered.  They came to a stop just
inches from Jim's face.  "Are you Ellison?" the one in front asked.

"Yeah, what can I do for you?"

"William Franklin.  You arrested my son and I want an explanation, and I mean now."
 
Jim's eyes narrowed, and he saw Brown and Rafe stand up and move to stand on either side of
him.  He was not sure if the move was to show solidarity or to hold Jim back from punching
Franklin's lights out.  "Have a seat, Mr. Franklin.  I'd be happy to explain."  

Minutes later, Franklin's demeanor was no longer confrontational.  The man rubbed his eyes and
sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.  "You actually heard this?"

"Yes sir, I did.  We suspected one of the fraternities on campus was involved and were in the
process of investigating each of them.  I had already spoken to your son and had left when I
realized that my notepad was missing and returned to the Gamma house to get it.  When I got
there, your son and some of the others were discussing the crimes.  The door to the house was
open, as I understand it usually is until they go to bed, and they could be heard quite clearly. I
arrested them.  They aren't talking, sir.  Things would be better for them if they told us
where to find the others and their latest victim."

"One of the victims died, isn't that right?" The man sounded so subdued that Jim felt sorry for
him. 

"Yes sir.  A young woman.  She had been raped repeatedly and scalped.  She was of Native
American descent, thus the scalping." 

"Dear God.  What am I going to do, Jack?" he asked one of the men with him.

"Detective Ellison, I'd like to talk with Will Franklin now, please."

"Of course." Jim motioned for the lawyer to follow him and led the man to the interrogation room
where Franklin had been placed. 

Two hours later, Will Franklin was still not talking.  William Franklin had left, declaring that his
lawyers could handle the situation and that he no longer wanted to deal with his son.  Jim
saw the disgust and pain in the elder Franklin's eyes as he wandered more so than walked down to
the elevator and wiped tears from his eyes as he got in the elevator car.  The old man had
tried to get his son to tell them what he knew. However, Will Franklin held fast to his story that
he and his frat brothers were just talking about the crimes and were not involved.  The
lawyers, apparently, decided to go with that.  

"Either charge my client or let him go," Jack Ruskin challenged Jim.

Jim smiled coldly and turned to Brown.  "Book him," he told his fellow officer.  "Satisfied?" he
asked Ruskin.

"You're making a career ending mistake, Ellison.  You can't really put Will at any of those crime
scenes.  You only heard young boys talking about some pretty fascinating crimes and jumped the
gun.  The Franklins have some powerful friends."

"Ruskin, you know as well as I do that even the kid's father is not buying that story.  I heard them
laughing and talking about raping and cutting Yoko Timura.  I heard them talking about how
one of them went too far with Walayla Meadowbrook and how they would all be facing murder
charges if anyone talked.  I heard this with my own ears.  And as far as placing your client at the
scene, forensics is working on that right now.  We have some very good samples, Ruskin.  They
were smart enough to wear condoms but not smart enough to remove them without leaving traces
behind on the victim. Not to mention the skin and hair samples under the girls' fingernails. 
Waylayla Meadowbrook did not go quietly." 

Ruskin swallowed nervously then seemed to get a second wind.  "Ellison, do you think I don't
know your interest in this?  You're desperate to find your partner.  You'll do anything it
takes to bring somebody down and you chose my client."

A redirect, Jim thought.  He was expecting that.  "Are you calling me a liar?"

"I'm calling you a desperate cop."

"I know what I heard.  And a jury will hear it word for word, Ruskin."  

"Then I suppose I shall see you in court," Ruskin sighed.

"I suppose you will indeed." The smile on Jim's face went from simply cold to sinister as Ruskin
grabbed his briefcase and hurried out of the bullpen.  Simon approached him then. 
"Anything?" he asked.

"Nothing.  The little bastards won't turn over on their 'brothers.'"  Simon's tone voiced his disgust
and frustration.

"Damn!  If you would just let me in there--"

"Not in this lifetime," Simon said decisively as he came to join them.  "I want to find Sandburg as
much as you do but I'm not going to allow you to terrorize suspects, Jim.  And believe me,
it's for your sake, not theirs."

Jim closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  "I'm going out to the university and see if I can find
anything."

"Jim, you're tired.  You need to get some sleep," Simon argued.

"Sleep?  You're kidding, right, sir?  Sleep while Blair is out there somewhere?  I'll see you in the
morning."  Jim grabbed his jacket from his chair and walked out.  

____________________________________________________________

Kevin Harris grinned happily as he put the finishing touches on his masterpiece.  The living canvas
was silent and still, still breathing, just not so well.  They would give time for the paint to dry and
then put their artwork on display.  The sun would be up soon and they had to be extra careful this
time.  The cops would be out in force.  Maybe they would not go to the campus this time.  There
was the park not far from campus.  It would be just as effective and probably a lot safer.  There
were joggers out, students milling around, but more cover in certain parts to hide their activities. 
He would suggest it.  After all, he was a full brother now.  They would listen to him.

With a savage kick to the small of the back, Kevin left Professor Blair Sandburg, broken and
bleeding, and went out to get another beer.

______________________________________________________________

Jim's head spun in the direction of the scream, and he was off and running with a speed that belied
the fact that he had gone without sleep for twenty three hours.  The few people on the Rainier
campus at that early hour stared at him as he ran toward the sound that only he could hear.  He
raced across the commons area of the university and jumped a hedge before crossing the street to
the small park on the other side.  He quickly located the source of the sounds that reached his
ears, a woman crying, two other voices, one calling for someone to get an ambulance, the other
trying to get a response from someone.  Jim's focus narrowed and he heard the labored breathing
and the slow, slow heartbeat of that someone---Blair.  

He had known really so he was surprised that it still hurt so much.  He rounded a stand of small
trees to find three people hovered over what was barely recognizable as his guide.  He slid
to a halt and dropped to his knees next to Blair.  His partner was lying on his side and had been
stripped down to his boxers.  His bruised and bloody body had been painted with swastikas and
the work "kike" was visible across his back.  And there was blood on the ground from a wound
that Jim could not see.  Jim's hand shook as he reached out to move the curtain of blood-damp
curls from Blair's face.  "Oh god." he gasped.  Jim lightly ran his hand down Blair's back and over
his ribs, trying to assess his injuries.  He found many broken ribs and lots of angry bruises but
determined that his partner's back was not broken.  As gently as he could, he began to shift Blair
onto his back.  He needed to find the source of the blood.  He swore and ripped a piece of his
shirt away as he did.  Blair had been stabbed in the lower right side of his abdomen.  He pressed
the cloth to the still bleeding wound with one hand while the other touched his guide's forehead.
He willed Blair to open his eyes but the younger man remained unconscious.

Jim listened to the too slow beating of his guide's heart until the rest of the world disappeared. 
The next thing that he was aware of was Simon's hands on his shoulders pulling him up from
the ground and paramedics taking his place beside Blair.  He shook off the zone and his captain's
hands.  "Be careful with him," he ordered.  "He hasn't been conscious so I think there's a head
injury.  He's lost a lot of blood, too."  After that, all he could do was watch.  Soon, the medics
had Blair loaded into the back of the ambulance and were about to close the doors when Jim
grabbed one of them by the arm.  He gave the man a look that was meant to tell him that he was
in no mood to argue and then climbed into the vehicle with his partner.

____________________________________________________________

Simon found Jim sitting in the waiting area of the emergency room.  He sighed and approached
the man who looked so angry and yet so sad at the same time.  The jaw was clenched, the hands
curled into fists, the shoulders squared, all signs of Jim Ellison's not inconsiderable temper.  The
eyes, though, showed pain and sadness.  The windows to the soul, the eyes were called and Simon
was getting a clear view into Jim's soul.  It was a rare glimpse.  The man was usually so guarded,
the shutters firmly closed over those windows, so to speak.  Except when it came to Blair
Sandburg.

"Jim, how is he?  Have you heard anything?"

"I've heard plenty but they haven't told me a damn thing.  I know that they're gonna take him into
surgery soon.  He's in a coma, Simon.  He lost so much blood and his skull is fractured.  That's
all I know.  Where's Jade?"

"She's right behind me."

"And Naomi?  Did you call Naomi?  I was supposed to call Naomi."

"Don't worry.  Rafe is taking care of her."  Simon's cell phone rang then and he flipped it open. 
"Banks."  He listened to Rafe's frantic voice on the other end.  Simon rubbed his face
with his free hand.  "I'll tell him." He hung up and faced Jim's inquisitive stare.  "The feds are on
their way down here." 

Jim did not acknowledge him, however, as the man seemed to look past him.  Simon turned to see
a familiar face coming toward them.  He could not help but lament the fact that the tiny doctor
was so familiar with them all that she did not have to ask who they were there for.  She knew
them as well as they knew her.  "Jim, I'm taking him into surgery to repair the damage from the
stab wound.  It's going to be touch and go because of his other injuries but we have to do it now. 
We're pumping blood into him and he's losing it before we get the next pint ready.  I'm surprised
that he hadn't bled to death by the time you found him.  He must have been stabbed as an
afterthought just before they left him for you to find."  She noticed someone that she did not
know then as Jade joined them.  "Dr. Orenda Milap."  

"Jade Thomas," she shook the doctor's hand. 

Dr. Milap smiled.  "At any rate, I need to get going.  I'll let you know something as soon as I
can." 

"Thank you, Dr. Milap," Simon answered for them all.

"It was a new wound," Jim said absently as he sat down once again.  "Payback probably for the
shot Blair got in at his office."

Simon sat down next to him.  "He'll pull through."

"Just how many times have you said those exact words to me right here in this room, Simon? 
How many times has Blair been right where he is now since I've known him?  Too many."

"Jim, this has nothing to do with the work Blair does with you.  This has to do with hatred and
bigotry which is as old as time itself, I think sometimes.  Or maybe that's as old as I feel when
I'm faced with it."

"Try to convince Naomi of that, Simon."

"Naomi?"  Jade asked.  

"Blair's mother," Simon told her.  "She's on her way here."

"Ah, I'll see what I can do."

___________________________________________________________
 
Jim was not sure if he wanted to laugh or scream.  He wanted to tell Jade that there was nothing
she could do.  Nothing anybody could do.  Naomi would not be placated.  She would blame Jim
and she would be right.  Jim had failed.  He was supposed to protect his guide.  He should have
known.  He did know, and still he had done nothing.  Blair wanted to make a stand.  Okay, he
could understand that.  But he, Jim, should have been standing by him when he did.  That was
what partners, friends did.  Jim got up and wandered away from them.  Away from Simon who
was trying to explain Naomi to his tiny red-haired girlfriend.  Did he not realize that Naomi defied
explanation as much as her son did?   Away from the soft-spoken woman, who was little more
than a spectator in this whole mess, who thought that she would actually convince Naomi
Sandburg that Jim was not at fault.  He moved slowly toward the door that Dr. Milap had
disappeared through and focused his hearing beyond them until he heard the little doctor's voice. 
He listened to her give instructions for Blair's removal to surgery, listened to the orders for more
whole blood and some medication that Jim did not recognize, and then listened to her as her voice
softened as she spoke to her patient.  "Oh sweetpea, what am I going to do with you?  I see this
face too often, Blair Sandburg," she half-crooned, half-scolded.

"Amen to that," Jim muttered his agreement.  A hand on his shoulder brought him rudely back to
himself, Dr. Milap's voice lost as the noise of the waiting room re-entered his awareness.

"Jim?"

"I'm fine, Simon."

"Just making sure.  Besides, the feds are here." 

The next several hours were a blur to Jim.  The only thing that registered in his otherwise hazy
mind was the ticking of the clock.  He talked to Special Agents Mathis and Reese.  He told
them everything they had.   Truth was, they had the case solved already.  They just had to make it
stick.  Naomi arrived.  She screamed at him but he hardly heard her words.  She was not
saying anything that he had not said to himself.  Jade had pulled her away into one of the private
consultation rooms to talk with her.  Still, he listened to the clock.  Simon hovered over him
like a mother bear over a cub.  To the man's credit, though, he did not talk, nor try to get Jim to
talk.  He simply hovered.   Jim chuckled a little, remembering Blair's accusation that he
himself hovered.  Blair was right.  It was annoying.  "Simon, I'm okay.  I'm not trying to listen to
the surgery.  I doubt I could right now if I wanted to."

Simon grimaced in sympathy, Jim supposed.  Or perhaps he had been hoping that his hovering
was going unnoticed.  Not a chance in hell, Jim thought sarcastically.  "Sorry, Jim.  You've just
been so quiet--"

Jim shook his head.  "How's Naomi?"

"Jade's got her calmed down some.  She knows it's not really your fault, Jim."

Jim shook his head again.  "Not right now, Simon.  I can't talk about that right now."

"Okay.  So, how about those Jags?"

Jim found himself laughing before he could remember that he should not.  "Is that the best you
can do?"

Simon laughed with him.  "Hey, Naomi got Jade.  And I'm not trading off."

Jim sobered.  "Simon, about Jade?"

"What about her?"

"She's--"

"What, Jim?" Simon snapped suddenly. "White?  Is that what you were going to say?"

"Actually, no, Simon.  I was going to say a little young."

"Oh, sorry.  The young thing I will have to give you.  But she is older than Blair, so..." he trailed
off.  "Guess I'm a little touchy, huh?"

"Who could blame you with what we've been dealing with?" Jim shrugged.  

"You don't know the half of it, Jim.  You'd think in this day and age people would be over the
bi-racial couple issue."  Simon shook his head.  "Her parents are livid.  They're talking about
disowning her.  She's tough, though.  She's not backing down from them.  And then there's the
stares out on the street, in restaurants, movie theaters, wherever we go.  She tells me to ignore it. 
I try."

"You said Daryl likes her?"

"Yeah, he does.  Doesn't phase him."

"That's a testament to how you raised him, Simon."

"Then explain Joan."

"What?"

"Joan.  She's all up in arms.  Says that if I marry Jade, she'll take me to court to cut my visitation
rights.  She doesn't want a white woman raising her child, she says.  Damn, Jim, I was married to
the woman and never knew she carried around that kind of bigotry in her heart."

"I'm sorry, Simon.  At least Daryl got your values.  I know it's gotta be hard but that's gotta count
for something, right?"

The man nodded.  "Thanks, Jim.  Here I am supposed to be watching out for you and keeping
your chin up and you're counseling me to keep mine up."

Anything Jim might have said to that comment was forgotten when Orenda Milap appeared
through the waiting room doors.  Jim was on his feet and across the floor with no clear
recollection of the trip.  "How is he?"  Simon moved up behind him.

"Still in a coma.  He made it through surgery but it was touch and go.  We had to remove part of
the spleen.  He is on a ventilator because he is not breathing on his own at the moment.  As for
the skull fracture, we will need to watch him very closely for complications.  Now, we just wait."

"Blair has a living will," a voice announced from behind them.

"And you are?" Dr. Milap asked.

"Blair's mother, Naomi Sandburg."

"I see.  Well, let's give Blair some time to recover from surgery before we pull that thing out and
start waving it around." 

Jim nearly smiled.  Orenda Milap was a character.  She minced no words, and in her not-so-subtle
but not unkind way shut Naomi up quite effectively.  Besides, he did not want to have to tell
Naomi right now that Blair had changed that living will long ago giving Jim, not Naomi, final say
in Blair's care.  That information would not go over very well at the moment.  "When can
we see him?"

"Soon, Jim.  They're getting him set up in ICU right now.  When he's ready, I'll come and tell you. 
One visitor at a time though."  She met Jim's eyes, her understanding of how hard this was going
to be on him shining in her compassionate brown eyes.  He was accustomed to having Blair to
himself.  This time, he would have to share his guide with Naomi.  It was only fair.  Yet, that
knowledge would not make it any easier to do.

________________________________________________________

Mark Coley shifted his weight in the chair yet again.  The detectives had listened to what he had
to say.  The black guy was nice enough but the white guy in the suit had glared at him as
though he was something on the bottom of his shoe.  They wanted to know why he had not come
in earlier.  He was scared, pure and simple.  He still was.  Kevin had all but said that he would do
to Mark what he and his frat buddies had done to--  Yoko, that black guy, Waylayla
Meadowbrook,---and Mr. Sandburg.  He was there when they loaded Mr. Sandburg into the
ambulance.  He had seen what had been done to him.  He had tried to make himself believe that
Kevin was just blowing smoke.  The two had been friends for years.  Surely, Kevin would not
hurt him.  But Kevin was not the same guy Mark had met in junior high.  The frat had made Kevin
mean.  Or maybe Kevin had always been mean and the frat had encouraged that meanness, gave it
an outlet.  Mark did not know.  He just knew that he had an obligation to do the right thing,
friends or not.  He was ashamed of himself for waiting.  Poor Mr. Sandburg was suffering for
Mark's cowardice.  He just hoped the man would forgive him.  If he lived.

The two detectives returned then with two more men in tow.  The one that Mark knew as
Detective Brown introduced him.  "You're feds?" Mark's voice squeaked to his embarrassment.

"Hate crime is federal jurisdiction, son." Agent Mathis told him matter-of-factly.  "Now, why
don't you tell us your story again." 

God, Kevin, what have you done? he thought even as he began to tell the man about his best
friend's involvement in rape, murder, and assault.

___________________________________________________________

It was almost anti-climatic.  The lab results from the first attack pointed to Franklin and another
boy, Vance Spenser.  Spenser folded.  The second set of results from the Meadowbrook
attack implicated two more.  There was a third assailant they did not have a match for, but if
Mark Coley and Vance Spenser were telling the truth, that third assailant was Kevin Harris. 
Harris fingered Blair.  Harris did most of the damage.  Jim wanted Harris.  However, Harris was
proving difficult to find.  Somebody must have tipped him off.  Mathis and Reese had been very
understanding about Jim wanting to stay involved in the case.  Of course, they could not really
complain too much seeing as how Major Crimes had already solved their case for them before
they had even arrived.  Jim sat beside Blair's bed, just as he had been every available moment for
the past two days, one hand absently rubbing his guide's arm.  "You need to wake up now, Chief. 
You gotta start breathing on your own.  Naomi is harping on that stupid living will.  Okay, so
that's not fair.  Your mother is very upset.  She's having visions of you--- well, like this--- for
years or something and she doesn't want you to suffer like that.  I keep telling her that she's not
going to have to worry about that because you *are* going to wake up and be fine just any time
now.  And just for the record, if you don't manage to do that, I'm gonna be in hot water deep,
buddy, because I haven't told her that your living will has changed and that she can't make your
decisions for you anymore.  And I know you didn't tell her.  Oh no!  Why would you make my life
simpler, right?  I knew the instant she mentioned it that you hadn't told her.  As angry as she is
with me already, she would never have mentioned anything that might give me any rights to you
at all.  And she hasn't been trying to persuade me, see?  She's been at Orenda about it.  So I knew
she didn't know.  She's not speaking to me anyway.  In spite of all Jade's efforts, she blames me. 
Hell, Chief, I blame me.  I should have protected you whether you wanted me to or not.  It's just
that I do understand about taking a stand, Blair.  And what with you just accusing me of
hovering, well, I didn't want to prove you right, I guess." 

Jim chuckled to himself ruefully.  "Speaking of hovering, have you ever noticed how badly Simon
hovers!  I can't seem to shake the man, Chief.  You gotta wake up because Simon is driving me
insane."  A tap on the window got Jim's attention.  He turned to see Naomi standing there
impatiently.  He nodded at her.  "Well, Chief, your mom's back from lunch and I've got to get
back to work.  We still haven't found Harris.  But don't you worry, I will find him, Blair.  He will
go down. You hang in there, buddy and I'll see you later."  Jim got no response, not that he was
expecting one.  He frowned slightly anyway and walked out of the room.  "Thanks, Naomi.  I'll be
back later." 

"Fine."  She walked into the room and closed the door in Jim's face.  Jim tried not to be hurt, but
he was.  He did not have time to dwell on that, however.  He had to catch the bastard who had
hurt Blair.   

___________________________________________________________

"Ellison." Jim barked into his cellphone.

"Let's get one thing very clear, cop.  I'm only doing this so that you pigs will lay off my
organization." 

"Excuse me?  Who is this?"

"Baker.  Remember, you hauled me in about the incidents at Rainier?"

"Derrick Baker?"

"Yeah.  Just listen up.  I got a call today from a guy that said he was sympathetic to our cause. 
He said that you guys were after him for the attacks at Rainier and he wanted our help to get out
of Cascade.  I said I'd have to get back to him, that arrangements would take time, but he said
he'd call me.  Now, I don't give a damn about your Jew partner or the others but my organization
doesn't need the heat from this.  So, I'm offering him to you.  You want him?"

"Damn straight, I want him."

"He's yours, Ellison.  When he calls me, I'll call you.  After that, I don't want to turn around and
see Mr. GQ and his *Negro* partner following me around or my people around any more.  We
clear?"

"You stay clean and we'll stay away, Baker.  That's all I'm saying."

"Fine.  Like I said, this guy's methods and timing are all wrong.  The war's coming.  We just have
to sit back and wait.  Will you be ready, Ellison?"

"Don't you worry about me, Baker."

Baker laughed.  "The day will come when I'll have to worry about you.  You will be a formidable
adversary.  In the meantime, he calls, I call, you get your man."  A click ended the connection.

The scary thing was that Baker actually believed his own rhetoric.  Even scarier was that he
seemed so certain that Jim had to wonder if indeed he would face Baker some day in a war
fueled by racial hatred.  Jim shook himself to disperse the dire visions in his head and called Simon
with the news. 

_______________________________________________________________

Jade listened to Simon's end of the phone conversation with interest.  Jim Ellison was on the other
end and from Simon's responses, the news was good.  "What?" she asked before he even got the
cell phone closed.  
 
"Derrick Baker, that kid from the Neo-Nazi group at Rainier just called.  Harris called him and
asked for help.  Baker apparently is more concerned about getting us off his back that helping out
Harris.  When Harris calls back, Baker is going to give him to us." A satisfied smile graced her
lover's face for the first time in days as he picked up his fork and began eating again.

"Will wonders never cease!" She returned the smile.  "The chancellor called me back this morning,
too.  She wants to schedule those sensitivity seminars for the students as soon as possible."

"Good!  Who knows, you may even reach a few Baker's cronies."

"Now, Simon, you know how unlikely that is."

"Yes, but I also know just how persuasive you can be."  He gave her a sly look.

She giggled and batted her eyelashes at him.  "Why, Simon, are you insinuating that I seduced
you?"

"Baby, all you had to do was walk into the room and I was lost."  He reached for her hand and
she let him catch it.  She leaned forward to met him halfway across the table for a quick kiss. 
She heard the disgusted noise from the next table and hoped against hope that Simon had not. 
But he did.  As she sat back, she saw his face.  

"Simon--"  Too late.  

"Why don't you mind your own business?"

"A Sister wasn't good enough for you?"

Simon stared at the black woman who challenged him.  The woman rose and left the table then. 
He watched her go.  "Jade, I'm sorry," he said when she was gone.

"Simon, her ignorance is not your fault.  Of course, you could have just ignored her."

"I know, I know.  I should have."  He shook his head.  "It's just..."

"I know."  Jade touched his cheek.  "Let's finish lunch and get out of here.  You have a criminal to
catch, and I have seminars to plan and hopefully, when we are both done, the world will be a
little better."

"You are incredible."

"I know," she teased at his so serious tone.  He smiled again, finally.  "That's better.  Eat!  You
need to keep up your strength if you're going to be the Great And Powerful Supercaptain I know
you are."  She stabbed a piece of lettuce from her salad with a fork and popped it in her mouth.  

"Supercaptain," he muttered as he picked up his own fork.  "Yeah, that's me all over."

___________________________________________________________

Derrick Baker did not call back.  Jim had practically sat on the phone for the rest of the day, and
though it did ring, it was never Baker.  All other leads they had on Harris had turned up exactly
nothing so they were now depending on the skinhead leader.  That was not a comfortable feeling. 
Jim got into the truck and placed the cell phone on the seat beside before he put the key into the
ignition.  He took a deep breath.  It was time to go back to the hospital.  Time to see Blair, still,
battered, in a coma.  Time to see the accusations in Naomi's eyes.  Jim felt so old, so tired.  Times
like these he wanted to turn in his badge, pack up the truck, and disappear into the mountains.  Of
course, he would have convince Blair to go.  It was possible.  He smiled to himself.  All he had to
do was point out how cool it would be studying a Sentinel in the "wild" and Blair would be
packing.  Then again, he would also be thinking up a myriad of tests for Jim whilst he was at it. 
That would not matter though.  At least Blair would be safe.  "Well, you've sat here long
enough," he scolded as he started the truck.  

Before he realized it, he was pulling up outside the hospital.  He squared his shoulders and
prepared himself to deal with Naomi.  He used the time in the elevator to try once again to come
up with a tactful strategy to inform Blair's mother of the changes in Blair's living will.  It was only
a matter of time before it would be too late for tact.  He needed to tell the woman calmly, quietly,
without aggression, at just the right moment, in just the right way before he lost his temper with
her and blurted it out in usual Ellison fashion.  Jim knew well, however, about the best laid plans
of mice and men and the road to hell.  Somehow, he just knew, no matter how or when he said it,
the resulting battle would not be pretty.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived at Blair's room and Naomi was not there.  He entered
the room quietly, as though he was trying not to wake up the young man in the bed.  *If only it
was possible to make enough noise to wake him, I'd find a way,* he thought as he pulled the
plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down.  Automatically, one hand reached out to touch Blair's
arm.  "Hey there, Chief.  Ready to wake up yet?"  When he got no response, he went on, "Okay. 
I'll give you a little longer.  Not much though.  You'll never guess who's helping us get to Harris. 
Derrick Baker.  Yep, Chief, the Neo-Nazi.  Who'da thought, huh?  Simon and Jade will be by
later.  Joel, too.  Rafe and Brown are staking out Harris's dorm though.  They told me to tell you
to get well.  Speaking of Jade, she's going to do those sensitivity seminars that you were talking
about at the university.  The dean must have liked your idea, and he called Simon to ask him if he
knew anybody.  Simon, naturally, suggested Jade.  Hope she has better luck there than with
Naomi.  I think she gave up on Naomi."  He was rambling.  "Come on, Blair, open your eyes,
buddy."  He sat back in the chair and leaned his head back.  He rolled it on his shoulders to try to
ward off the headache that was threatening just behind his eyes.  He was so focused that he
did not hear her approach. 

"Jim, we need to talk." 

He jumped a little and turned to face the angry mother of his best friend.  He did not want to do
this.  This was it, though,  ready or not.  "Good evening, Naomi.  I thought you weren't
speaking to me."

She glared at him.  "This is not the time or place for your sarcasm.  We have to talk about Blair."

"There's really nothing to talk about.  Orenda will let us know if and when there's no hope.  Until
then, I have to believe that he's going to be fine."

"Yes, well, I'm not sure that Dr. Milap will let us know that.  She has seemed very reluctant to
discuss Blair's living will with me.  I would like Blair to have another doctor, first of all.  
Secondly, I would like that doctor to sit down with me and discuss Blair's living will, instead of
telling me that I have to wait.  Blair did not want machines to keep him alive.  That thing in his
throat is exactly what he did not want.  Dr. Milap does not have the right to force my son to exist
if there is no hope of recovery."

Jim tried to hold his tongue.  He examined his hands, counted the holes in the ceiling tile above his
head, swallowed every barb that fought for release.  

"Are you listening to me?"

"I heard you, Naomi."

"Good.  I just thought that if we could put up a united front to the hospital, we could get Blair
reassigned without any difficulty.  I don't have the strength to fight the hospital and you right
now."

"Well, that's too bad."  Jim wanted to kick himself.  He had not meant to say that aloud.

"Excuse me?"

He sighed and stood up to face her.  "Look, Naomi.  Orenda is Blair's doctor.  She's a good
doctor.  She's taken care of him before and I trust her.  Just so you know, she has the same
opinions as you do about allowing patients to just exist when there is no hope.  'Quantity of life is
not the same as quality of life,' she says.  So if she says it's too soon to talk about letting him go,
then it's too soon.  Besides, Naomi, look at that monitor over there."  Jim pointed.  "That's brain
activity, Naomi.  That means he's still in there.  Until that thing says differently, Blair's alive and
I'm not letting him go.  Do you understand?"

"You're going to fight me."

"Tooth and nail," Jim confirmed solemnly.

"You don't have the right."

And here was the kicker.  "Yes, I do."

"Excuse me?"

"Blair's living will, Naomi.  It's been changed."

"What are you talking about?"  Her tone was harsh and cutting.

"We never knew if we would be able to find you, Naomi.  Blair felt that someone closer would
be..." *Better would not be a good term to use here, Jim.*  The voice in his head sounded
suspiciously like Blair.  "He felt that I would be--"

"You?  He chose you to speak for him?"  The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as she
spoke.  "I don't believe it."

"It's true.  We went to my lawyer, had new papers drawn up for both of us.  I speak for him, he
speaks for me.  Simon speaks for us if both of us go down.  I'm sorry, Naomi.  We just felt that...
Naomi, he's family to me.  Please try to understand.  You're his mother but you're not always
here.  I am."

She whirled around and was gone in an instant.  He ran after her.  "Naomi, don't go."

She stopped and threw her hand back toward him to warn him off.  "I can't talk to you right
now."

"Naomi, I'm sorry."  

She walked away.

__________________________________________________________

"She's been gone for a couple of hours now, Simon.  I tried to break it to her gently.  She hates
me." 

"She'll come around, Jim.  She's a smart woman.  She's just hurt right now."  

"Yeah."  Jim stared at the bland little framed print hanging on the wall of the room for a moment
then turned his attention back to his guide.  "Orenda came in a few minutes after Naomi left. 
She says he's getting better.  Looks like his kidneys are going to be okay, she says.  Less blood
than yesterday.  Just bruised.  No complications so far.  If he'd just take a breath on his own
and open his eyes, we'd be home free."

Simon got up and placed a hand on Jim's shoulder.  "He will, Jim."

"Coffee, guys."  Jade entered the room.  She handed off the cups quickly and headed out again.

"Where are you going, baby?"

"I just got a page.  I have to call the office.  I'll be back."  Then she was gone.

"So has Harris fallen off the face of the earth or what?" Jim asked his captain, standing up from
the chair.

"So far, we have nothing." Simon sighed.

"Nothing but Baker."

"Jim, I wouldn't put much stock in Baker."

"I know what you mean, but he seemed serious.  He seems too set on the delusion of a glorious
victory in battle to jeopardize his chances of being there by helping Harris and going to prison."
Jim paced the small room and then stopped by the bedside of his friend once more.

"Well, I'd be a lot happier if our case did not depend on the delusions of grandeur of some
Neo-Nazi skinhead."

"I couldn't agree more but that's where we are if Harris doesn't surface soon."

"Captain Banks, I need to speak with Jim alone if you don't mind."  Naomi's voice startled them
both.  

Simon met Jim's eyes and Jim nodded.  "I need to find Jade anyway."  The big man paused briefly
just behind Naomi and signaled for Jim to keep his chin up, then he ducked quickly out the door.

"I don't know what to say to you, Naomi.  I'm sorry that this has hurt you, but I'm not sorry that
we did it."

"I wish I could hate you, James Ellison.  I really wish that I could but I can't."

"That's good news," Jim muttered.

"There's that sarcasm again."

"Actually, I wasn't being sarcastic, Naomi.  It really is good news.  You could make my life pretty
miserable if you hated me.  But more importantly, you could make Blair pretty miserable, too."

"I know.  That's why I can't hate you.  I don't understand how it happened, and I certainly don't
understand why, but you are important to my son.  And as much as I hate to say this, you are
right.  You are here, and--- most of the time, I am not.  I don't have to like this, you know.  I
suppose, however, that I have to respect it.  Now, what this means to me exactly right now is that
I have to deal with you, not the doctor or the hospital."

"I'm not pulling any plugs, Naomi.  You can just put that right out of your head."

"Jim, I do know what that monitor means.  I know about brain activity.  I also know that the
living will that Blair had drawn up said,  no extraordinary efforts and no life sustaining machines.' 
That ventilator is a life sustaining machine."

"The old one might have said that, Naomi, but the new one is very different.  It says that as long
as there is brain activity, then the doctors are to do whatever they need to to keep him alive.  If
there is no brain activity, and I pray to God every day that I won't ever see that day, I have
control.  I decide when to let go, Naomi."

Naomi was shaking her head slowly.  "You'll never let go.  I can see that.  Blair has made a big
mistake."

Fury tinged Jim's vision red.  "Of all the damn nerve! You think you're a better choice?  Hey,
you're ready at the drop of a hat to let go from what I can see!  I got news for you, lady, your
son's a fighter.  I just don't think he's as gung-ho on dying as you seem to think.  He's got his
whole damn life ahead of him and I intend to make sure he gets to live it if at all possible.  Not to
mention, where the hell have you been when he's needed you?  You are never here.  You breeze
in, make a few decrees, burn a little sage, stir up his life, and disappear again.  Hell, Naomi, even
if you did still have control of his living will, we would never be able to find you to ask you what
we should do!  And don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.  He'd be dead already if you had
been around more.  He's been here before, Naomi.  When he was dosed with Golden, when he
was shot last year, I was here.  You weren't.  I couldn't find you.  I made the decisions that had
to be made and he's still here.  No, I won't just let go!   So, you do your mantras and you process
all you want, but don't you dare try to challenge me on this.  I won't back down."

"His life is not yours to play with!"

"He's not yours either!"

"He's my son!"

"So what?!  He's--" A choking sound from the bed stopped Jim's angry reply in his throat. 
"Naomi,--"

"I'll get the doctor."  She ran from the room as Jim leaned over his guide just in time to see
panicked blue eyes open. 

"Just relax, Chief.  The doctor will be here soon.  Don't fight the ventilator."  A tear slid down
Blair's temple and his brow furrowed as Jim caressed his forehead gently.  "It's okay.  Don't get
upset.  Everything will be just fine.  Do you remember what happened?"  A look of confusion
gave Jim his answer.  "That's okay.  We'll talk about it all later."

Orenda blew into the room then and Jim was pushed unceremoniously out of the way and out of
the door by the pushy little nurse that followed her. He had to watch from the doorway with
Naomi.  Moments later, Orenda joined them in the hall as the nurse went back to her station.

"How is he?"  Naomi asked hurriedly.

"Tired, in pain, but awake and relatively coherent.  Don't push.  Let him rest and he'll be just fine. 
You can go back in to see him if you like.  Just don't expect him to talk a lot or to understand a
whole lot of what you say.  He'll fade in and out and sleep a lot for the next few days.  If you
need me, I'll be close by."  She left them then.

Awkward silence filled the space between Jim and the woman that was his best friend's mother. 
Their eyes met and locked for a long moment.  Finally, Jim could stand it no longer.  "Well, if you
aren't going in, I am."

"I'm his mother." 

Jim sighed in disgust.  "Why don't we both go in?"

"After you."

"No, after you.  Ladies first."

"Oh, not his mother first, but *ladies* first."

"Oh, for crying out loud."  Jim brushed past her and into the room.  He made it Blair's bedside
just seconds ahead of Naomi, even though she opted to go to the other side of the bed.  "Hey,
Chief."  Jim smiled down at his partner.  "Better now that the tube is gone, huh?"

Blair nodded a little.

"Baby, mama's here."  Naomi touched Blair's cheek.  "Can I get you anything?"

Again, Blair nodded.

"What, Baby?"

Blair looked at her and then at Jim.  He swallowed and grimaced at the pain it caused. 
Jim thought he could almost feel that pain himself.  "Don't fight anymore, please."  The voice was
so small and raspy and yet, it had the power to leave Jim's knees shaky.  Blair had heard at least
some of their argument apparently.  He looked at Naomi's stricken face.  She blushed furiously,
and Jim knew that she was feeling the same shame that he was.

"You got it, partner.  No more fighting."  Jim told him, all the while, hoping that he could keep
his word.  Naomi had not forgiven him.  He could see that in her eyes.  She might be sorry that
Blair had overheard them and gotten upset, but she was still angry.  It was only a matter of time.

__________________________________________________________________

"Hello?" Mark Coley mumbled into the phone as he rubbed his eyes.  He hated to wake up to a
ringing phone.  

"Mark, I need some help, buddy."

"Kevin?  Oh man, Kev, what the hell are you doing calling me?  I don't want any part of this. 
You are in the shit, man.  The feds are on your tail."

"Feds?!  What for?"

"Hate crime is a federal offense, you idiot!  I can't believe you!"  Mark heard his former friend
swear on the other end of the phone.  "I can't help you, Kevin."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"You're my best friend, Mark."

"I was your best friend, Kevin.  Until you let your so called brothers turn you into somebody I
don't want to know."

"Who rolled on me, man?  Do you know?"

Mark was silent.  What could he say?

"Shit!  I can't believe it!  Mark, why, man?"

"Because I have to look at myself in the mirror every morning, Kev.  Listen to me, you need to
turn yourself in.  Don't make them come for you, Kev.  Make it easier on yourself.  From what I
heard, that cop that hangs with Mr. Sandburg would like nothing better than to put a few holes in
you.  Turn yourself in."

"Not going to happen, Mark.  I got somebody else willing to help me out.  Thanks for nothing,
man.  And Mark, watch your back, dude."  With a click, he was gone.  

Mark sighed heavily and hung up the phone. He sat for a few minutes just staring at the wall of his
dorm room then turned his head to the empty bed across the room.  Once, it had been Kevin's. 
That was before he started spending all his time at the frat house.  Officially, he was still living
there but he had not spent the night there for weeks and his stuff was long since gone as well. 
Mark wondered about the frat's willingness to allow Kevin, as just a pledge, to stay at the house. 
They had not given him a room but he was sleeping on an old couch in Will Franklin's room.  He
groaned as he realized that just maybe Kevin was so welcome because he had given the frat their
perfect initiation rite.  What if the attacks had been Kevin's idea?  It seemed all too possible. 
Mark picked up the phone.  He needed to call Captain Banks and those feds.  
________________________________________________________________


"Well..."

"Well, what?"  Jim responded to the woman across his partner's bed from him.

"This is uncomfortable." Naomi replied flippantly.

"Don't start, Naomi.  We promised that we wouldn't fight.  Just because he's asleep now doesn't
mean I'm going to go back on that promise."

"I'm not fighting.  I'm just stating a fact. Don't you have some cop stuff to do or something? 
Shouldn't you be finding the monster that did this to him?" She pointed at her son's sleeping
form.

"I'm waiting to hear from an informant and I'm off duty right now anyway."

"I see."

"Naomi," Jim sighed, "we were friends once.  This doesn't have to be this way."

"We were friends before you let this happen to him.  And you do realize that we both are not
supposed to be in here at the same time, right?"

"Damn it, Naomi.  You think I wouldn't give anything to be able to go back and prevent this? 
You think I wouldn't gladly trade places with him?  I would.  Anything, everything I have,
everything I am I would give up to have kept him from this pain.  But it's too late for that now
and I feel incredibly guilty that I wasn't there.  That I didn't prevent it.  That I could have
probably prevented it if I had just gone against his wishes and put some protection on him.  But
he didn't want protection, and he's a grown man, and it was a matter of principle for him, and I
didn't want to take that away from him so I let it go.  I don't need your accusations and
recriminations, Naomi.  I've got enough of my own.  You don't need to *make* me feel guilty,
Naomi.  I already do.  So, can we just stop the hostility and focus on getting him back on his feet? 
He's the victim of a hate crime.  Do you realize what that means?  Do you know how devastating
that can be to a person?  He's not just physically hurt here.  He's emotionally traumatized.  The
last thing he needs to have to deal with is you and me bickering and using him as the rope in some
twisted tug-of-war."

"That's quite a speech.  Did you practice that in the mirror?"

Jim drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, while mentally counting to ten.  "You are bound and
determined to piss me off, aren't you?  You want me to lose my temper and break my promise to
Blair so you can crow about it to him and prove to him that I'm not worthy of him and his
friendship.  Well, it won't work.  As it is, this conversation is getting dangerously close to turning
into an argument so I'm bowing out of it.  You may continue to talk if you like, Naomi, but the
walls will be your only audience.  But I'm not leaving.  You'll just have to be uncomfortable." 
Jim sat down in the chair behind him  and deliberately tuned his senses to close out the woman in
the room with him until he could almost swear he was alone in the room with his best friend.  He
could only hear Blair's soft breathing and heartbeat.  He could no longer smell Naomi's perfume. 
He could only smell his partner's unique scent with a hint of the baby powder scented soap that
the nurse had used when she gave the younger man a sponge bath earlier.  From his sitting
position, most of his view of the woman was obscured by the her son and the bed he was lying in
so it only took minimal adjustments to narrow his field of vision to just the rise and fall of Blair's
chest. Yes, Chief, being a sentinel had its advantages.  

And a few disadvantages, Jim discovered as someone shook him hard and a panicked voice
registered in his ears.  "What!?  What?" he nearly shouted as he faced a white-faced nurse.

"Oh, Mr. Ellison, you scared the life out of me!  I couldn't get you to acknowledge me!  Are you
all right?"

"Fine, just pre-occupied," Jim assured as he glanced around the room looking for Naomi. 
"Where's--"

"She told me that she was going to the cafeteria."

Jim looked down at his watch.  It was dinnertime.  He had only been out of it for about an hour. 
He had not actually zoned, he supposed.  He was still very much aware of the world outside
himself.  It was only that the scope of his world had been pared down to include only his guide. 
He stood and gently ran one hand over Blair's forehead before turning to face the nurse once
more. "What did you need?"

"Oh, I forgot," she sighed, a pained expression on her face.  "Your captain is on the phone at the
nurse's station."

"Great, thanks." Jim checked once more to make sure that Blair was still deeply asleep.  He was
and was not likely to awaken in the next few minutes.  Jim would have hated to have his friend
wake up alone.  Then he followed the nurse out of the cubicle and to the nurse's station.  She
handed him the receiver.  "Simon, what do you have?"  Jim listened as Simon told him about
Harris's call to Mark Coley. He had been hoping that Baker had called but that was obviously not
the case.  Mark Coley was in protective custody in light of the not so veiled threat from Harris. 
"Thanks, Simon." He hung up just in time to see Naomi get off the elevator.  She glared at him
for a moment and then walked past him with her head high.  He shook his head sadly.  It was
going to be a long night.  Maybe he needed to get something to eat and some coffee.  Maybe the
sullen woman would be easier to take after a Wonderburger.  "Ma'am," he addressed the nurse,
"if she asks, tell her I went to get something to eat and I *will* be back."  It was with almost
gleeful maliciousness that he stressed that last part.  "And if Blair wakes up, tell him the same
thing.  I don't want him thinking I deserted him.  Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Ellison.  Though I doubt seriously he would ever think such a thing, I will tell him." 
She smiled at him sweetly.  

"Thanks." Jim returned the smile and with one last look back, he turned to the elevator.

______________________________________________________________________________

When Jim returned forty minutes later, with Tums in hand for the indigestion sitting heavy on his
chest, Dr. Milap was in the cubicle with Blair and his mother.  "Oh good, Jim, you're back.  I was
just about to give out some good news and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it."

"Hey, Jim." Blair whispered softly then as his eyes took in the roll of Tums in Jim's hand, the soft 
voice took on a scolding tone.  "You went to Wonderburger, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Yeah but nothing.  You better be glad I'm in this bed right now, Jim, else you'd be in deep
trouble."

Jim smiled.  "Nice to have you back, Chief."

Orenda Milap was grinning at them both.  "As I was saying, gentlemen, Blair is being moved to a
room in just a few minutes.  Jim, I figured that you'd want a private room for him."

"Right."

"Good.  There's no more blood in your urine, Blair, so your kidneys are definitely on the mend. 
Everything seems to be fine with the surgery and the latest X-rays show that your head is actually
even harder than we originally thought." She lightly ruffled his curls as she teased him.  

Jim could not help but chuckle and Blair joined him albeit cautiously.  "Don't make him laugh,
Doc.  Hate for you to have to redo all those stitches." Jim warned.  Jim met Naomi's angry eyes
for just a second then.  None of this news seemed to make an impression on her.  It was probably
not the nicest thing he would ever do but he had to do something to remove the scowl from the
woman's face before her son saw it and got concerned.  "Isn't this great news, Naomi?"  

There was a flash of pure hated on her face before the smile obliterated it. "Wonderful news.
Blair, I'm so relieved, sweetie."

Blair reached for his mother's hand and she took it.  "Sorry I scared you, mom."

"Well, I'll leave you all alone now.  The orderlies will be around in a few minutes to get you
moved to your new room.  Good night all."  Orenda left then and the room temperature seemed
to nosedive.   Of course, Blair, the trained observer noticed immediately.

"Okay, I want to know.  What's happening here?  Why are the two of you fighting like this?"

Jim glanced at his best friend's mother.  "We're not fighting, Chief."

"Jim, you are like the worst liar ever.  Mom?"

"It's nothing, sweetie.  You just concentrate on getting better."

"You're angry with him because you think that I got hurt while I was working with him, right? 
Well, you're wrong.  I was at the university."

"Do you remember the attack, Blair?" Jim jumped in.  

"Yeah, I remember everything.  I don't know who all of them were but I do know one.  Kevin
Harris.  He wanted me to know it was him.  He took off his ski mask and made sure I knew that
he was the one doing the most damage.  I had already figured out that he was involved though. 
That's why I was calling you.  I thought I recognized his handwriting.  You remember Hassan,
the wr--writing on his forehead?  Well, it was the N's, Kevin makes his n's that way.  He was mad
at me about his test grade, see?  So it had nothing to do with Jim, Mom."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room and Jim could tell that Blair was confused. *Poor
kid thinks that all should be well now.* Jim decided to come clean with it all.  "We have some of
the guys in custody, Blair.  An informant told us about Harris.  He's still out there but we'll get
him, Buddy.  You can count on that.  But, I think you should know that the attack itself is not
what has your mother so upset with me--"

"I can speak for myself, Jim Ellison." Naomi interrupted.  "Blair, honey, why did you change your
living will?  Why would you give *him* the right to speak for you?"

"Oh shit," Blair whispered softly.  He turned his eyes to Jim. "Was it that bad?"

Jim sighed, glanced from his guide to his mother and back again. "I didn't think so.  Your mother
disagreed with me and given your new living will, the hospital listened to me."

Naomi picked that moment to start ranting again.  This time at her son about how could he trust
Jim to make his decisions, knowing what a control freak Jim was, and why did he not discuss it
with her first.  Jim tuned her out and concentrated on the stricken face of his partner.  The
expressive blue eyes showed Blair's every emotion. Shock, confusion, and pain shone out of the
depths and Jim watched as they got brighter with unshed tears.  "Naomi."  She kept on, her
voice growing more and more shrill.  "Naomi," he tried again.  "Naomi!  Shut up for a minute." 
She cut off in mid-sentence.  "Blair, are you all right?" Jim reached out and touched a trembling
shoulder.

"I need to be alone for a while," finally came a choked reply.

"Blair, honey--"

"Please, Mom."

"Are you sure, Buddy?"

He nodded.

"Blair--"

"Mom!  Could you just give me a little while here?"

"Fine.  I hear that."  She grabbed her purse from the windowsill and stormed out of the room.

Jim sighed and shrugged a little at Blair's hurt expression.  "I'll come back later.  Call me if you
need me."

Blair nodded again and Jim started for the door.  "Hey, Jim."

"Yeah, Chief?"

"Thanks for not pulling the plug, man."

Jim grinned a little then.  "Anytime."

_____________________________________________________________________

Simon watched from the back of the lecture hall as Dr. Thomas, the professional side of his Jade,
led those present through an exercise that Simon was sure was going to cause a riot at any
moment.  He even had one hand on his cell phone just in case he needed to call in backup quick. 
Suddenly, there was someone next to him.  "What are you doing here?  Thought you'd be at the
hospital with Blair," he asked his best detective.  

"Blair wanted some time to himself.  I think he's a little shocked at how close this was."

"So he's awake enough to be shocked.  That's good.  I'll go by and see him tomorrow.  Does he
remember?"

"Yep.  He confirmed that it was Harris, but he didn't see any more faces.  What the hell does she
think she's doing?" Jim pointed down at Jade.

"I have no idea but I wish she'd get to the point before we have to get out the riot gear."  

_______________________________________________________________________

All across the front of the lecture hall there were charts set up.  Each chart listed a different ethnic
or religious group and then separated each group into male and female.  On each chart, Jade
wrote down all the things that were being shouted out to her about each group, while making
note when she could of who had shouted out what.  Jim easily read each chart and understood the
tense atmosphere in the room immediately.  She was at the chart that read Islamic people and the
assembled crowd was shouting out that Islamic men were all terrorists and that they beat their
wives.  Someone else said that the women was submissive and stupid.  After a few more
derogatory comments, Jade moved on to another group and then another.  Every chart was filled
with the most hateful and hurtful stereotypes for that particular group of people and Jim had to
wonder what the purpose of this exercise was.  Was Jade trying to pick a fight with several
hundred college students?  Finally, after the last chart was filled, Jade put down her marker and
turned to face the room again.  "Well, wasn't that fun?"

The stunned and angry silence of the room was her answer.  "Oh Lord." Jim heard Simon
whisper.

"What?  Does someone have a problem with this?  I think we've pretty accurately depicted just
about every ethnic and religious group, don't you?"

"No," came one lone voice down front.

"Why not, Ms?"

"Morgan.  It's all wrong.  That's not me."  

Jim sought out the face to go with the voice.  She was a pretty black girl in the third row.  He
could see her in profile if he leaned forward.

"Mr.?"  Jade pointed to someone not far away.

"Baker."  

Jim nearly fell out of his chair. It was Derrick Baker, there in Jade's seminar.  Granted, attendance
was mandatory for everyone, which was why it was being offered several nights, but Jim was still
a little surprised to see him.

"Mr. Baker, let's see, I believe that you said that black women were  lazy, shoplifting, welfare
collecting baby machines.'  And that is a direct quote, right?"

"Yeah." Baker frowned.

"Ms. Morgan, are you saying that you don't fit that bill?"

"Of course not," she snapped.

"How does that comment make you feel?"

"It hurts and it makes me angry."

"Hey, I think I remember her yelling out some stuff  about other people." Baker pointed out.

"You know, Mr. Baker, I do believe that you are right about that.  Let's see, Ms. Morgan.  I
think this one was yours.   White men are wife beaters and alcoholics. Most of them are bigots,
too.'  Do I have that just about right?"

"Yes, but--"

"And Mr. Baker, how does that make you feel?"

"Why should I care what she thinks?"

"I didn't ask you why you should care, Mr. Baker."

"It pisses me off, okay?"

"Okay."   She turned her attention back to the audience as a whole.  "I want each of you now to
look over these charts.  Find the one or maybe even two that address your ethnic or religious
background and read it.  Open yourself up to the emotions that the words there evoke.  Then look
at the person beside you.  Remembering how you feel about the hateful things you see on your
chart, find that person's chart and try to put yourself in his position.  Do the feelings change?  Ms.
Morgan, if you are hurt by what Mr. Baker said, don't you think that Mr. Baker could be hurt by
what you said?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you want to hurt Mr. Baker?  Is there a reason that you should?  Does he somehow deserve
it just for being white?"

"No ma'am."

"Mr. Baker, I put the same questions to you."

Jim shifted in his seat to get a better view of Derrick Baker's face and what he saw was
astonishing.  Doubt.

"Mr. Baker?  Does Ms. Morgan deserve to be hurt because she is black?  Do you have a reason to
want to hurt her?"

"No."

 Jade smiled up at Simon for a split second as the answer came.  "Then why do we do it?  And
how do we stop it?  Let's look at recovery, shall we?"

Jim sat back in amazement and looked over to his captain to see the same amazement reflected
back at him.  "Wow."

"Yeah."  

Jade went on to talk about behavior models and how recovery from a lifetime of being taught
stereotypes and prejudice was a process that may never be totally complete.  She told the students
that the sad truth was that if someone was determined to be a bigot, nothing short of a miracle
was going to change his mind, but that did not mean that the rest of the world, the assembled
audience especially, had to simply accept hatred as right.

"The last thought I want to leave you with comes from the Desiderata.  It is this.    You are a
child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars.  You have a right to be here.'  Thank you
for your attention and good night."

Jim quickly turned his hearing down, just in time to keep from being deafened by the applause. 
When he stood, he came face to face with Derrick Baker.  The young man seemed embarrassed
and did not seem to want to meet Jim's eyes.  "Baker."  Jim greeted him simply.

"I haven't forgotten.  I had to come to this thing tonight so I wasn't there to get any calls. 
Sorry."

"I understand.  This was mandatory, after all."

"Yeah, well, later, Ellison."  He hurried away.

"Somebody just got his world tilted a little." Simon remarked softly behind Jim's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jim responded quietly. "Well, I'm gonna call Blair and see if he's doing okay.  If he's
ready for company, I'd like to go back to the hospital.  You said, you're coming tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'd say tonight but I don't think I'm going to get Jade out of here anytime soon." Simon
motioned to the huge crowd of students in the front of the room, totally blocking the little
psychologist from sight.  "And if and when I do get her outta here, I'm taking her to dinner at
Natalia's.  Is my lady impressive or what?"

Jim grinned.  "Very impressive.  See you later, Simon."  Jim clapped him on the back and made
his way out of the lecture hall.  He pulled out his cell as he went.  He wanted to talk to Blair.

__________________________________________________________________________

Blair had spent the first half-hour after Jim and his mother left just staring out the window of his
new room.  Just after they had gone, the orderlies had come to get him.  He was now settled in
room 347, with its nice view of another wall outside the window.  After determining that the wall
was not going to come down from the sheer force of his will, he turned that will to examining his
feelings of panic and pain when Jim had told him just how close he came to not being here to stare
at that wall.  If his living will had not been changed, he would be dead.  His mother would have
turned off the ventilator and he would have died.  He shuddered.  What had he been thinking
when he signed that first will?  Was he really that willing to let go of life?  Was his mother that
willing to let go of him?  

Now, that was not really fair.  He had written the will.  He had determined its contents.  His
mother would have only been carrying out his expressed wishes.  And the truth was, that when he
had made out that first living will, the contents did express his wishes.  What had changed?  Was
he stronger and braver now or then?  Which took more courage, living or dying?  "Great. Leave it
to me to engage myself in deep philosophical discussions so soon after being in a coma."  He
rubbed his temples.  He had a headache.  Just what he deserved for such deep thoughts.  

Back to the important question.  What had changed for him and when?  When did he want to
re-write that will.  Why did he want to re-write it?  It was after the Golden incident.  He
remembered that much.  Jim had been upset that the hospital at first would not talk to him about
Blair's condition.  They saw his mother's name down as the contact person and wanted to speak
with her.  Simon had stepped in then, so Blair had been told.  But Jim did not want that to happen
again.  They talked and decided that both of them would change their emergency contacts.  After
all, Jim's dad would be useless to Jim and the hospital if Jim zoned out.  Blair would need access
to him in that case.  Then the living will came up and before Blair even realized it, he was
changing it too.  So what did that tell him?  What was the common theme?

Jim.  

Blair never really had anyone before Jim that needed him.  Naomi loved him, but she certainly did
not need him.  He had friends but they would recover.  Jim needed him.  And he needed Jim too. 
His letting go days were over.  Blair was going to hold onto life with both hands now.  Because
Jim Ellison had lost enough people in his life.  Because Jim Ellison needed a guide for his sentinel
senses.  Because Jim Ellison deserved to have him stick around.  Blair smiled a bit at that one.  It
could be taken one of two ways.  But most importantly, because Jim Ellison had given him so
much.  A home, a lasting friendship, his trust, and apparently, a reason for living.  He took a
moment then to thank whichever supreme being that saw fit to bring Jim into his life before
turning his attention to the other matter weighing heavily on his mind.  He had been the victim of
a hate crime.  Kevin Harris and his fraternity brothers had decided that he deserved to suffer just
because he was Jewish.  Tears threatened to fall then and he swallowed hard in an attempt to
remove the lump in his throat.  He had always known it was possible that one day someone would
not stop at calling names and pushing him around like the childhood bullies he had dealt with a
few times in his life.  He knew full well that people like Kevin Harris and Derrick Baker existed. 
He could even quote texts on why such people existed, how society even aided and abetted their
creation, etc.  None of that made him feel any better though.  None of those facts and theories
kept him from shuddering every time he saw a swastika, heard on the news about Neo-Nazi
activity.  And certainly none of that lofty knowledge kept his heart from breaking and his eyes
from getting blurry with tears right now.  

The phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  He quickly wiped his eyes and took a deep,
shaky breath before picking up the receiver.  "Hello?"

"Hey, Chief.  How are you doing?  Just thought I'd check in with you."

The concerned voice on the other end of the phone was his undoing.  "Ah, Jim--" the words
trembled and his voice faltered.

"You need me?"

The sob escaped before Blair even thought to try to stop it.  "Yeah."

"I'm on my way.  Be okay till I get there?"

"Yeah.  I'm sorry, Jim."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Buddy.  Be there soon."

Blair hung up the phone and turned on the television in the hopes that he could occupy his mind
with other people's problems so that he did not have to think about his own.  It was not to be,
however.  The door to his room opened and his mother stood in the doorway.  He turned the
television off again and met her eyes.  "Hi," he muttered as he wiped at his eyes again.  

"Blair, sweetie, if you're ready to talk, I think we really need to."

"Jim's on his way back, Mom."  He meant to let her know that they wouldn't have a lot of time to
talk but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Oh?  Did he get a call inviting him back?  You'd rather have him here than your own mother?"

"That's not it at all, Naomi.  He called to check on me and I was upset so--"

"Upset about what?  I'm your mother.  You can come to me when you're upset."  She stepped
closer to the bed.

"When you're here, I can."

"I'm here now and still you turn to him!"

"Naomi, just stop it."

"A minute ago, it was Mom.  Now it's Naomi.  I think I see where I stand."

"I can't do this with you right now.  Maybe you should go."  Blair sighed and let his head fall
back on his pillow.

"So he can come in and fix everything?  He's done such a good job of that so far, hasn't he?  If
he'd done his job, you wouldn't be here right now.  If he'd been taking care of you like he said he
would, you would never have gotten hurt.  Why, he can't even catch the monster that did this to
you.  And this is the man that you've entrusted your life to!  Blair, you are smarter than this!  You
don't need Jim Ellison.  I taught you to take care of yourself, not to let people make you think
that you needed them, not to let yourself get bogged down in other people's lives.  You have too
much to do out there, in the world, to let that man put chains on you!"

"Geez, Naomi, I'm not his slave."

"Really?  You live in his house, you work his job with him, you *do* his job for him, cook meals
for him, take orders from him.  You probably do his laundry for him.  All the while, you are also
trying to do your job and go to school.  Sounds like a slave to me."

Blair shook his head.  "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand."

"I can't.  You won't listen and even if you would, there are confidences that I can't and won't
break."

"Try me.  I may not be as stupid as you think."

"Naomi, I like working with Jim and if I could take a moment to remind you, he took me in when
my place burned and let me stay.  I do his laundry but he does mine too.  I cook, he cooks.  We're
partners, friends, family."

"This is the father thing again, isn't it?  He's not your father."

That hurt and Blair had to take several moments to compose himself before he could address her
again.  "I knew you wouldn't get it.  You're right, though.  He's not my father.  He's my brother. 
Think about that for a while, Naomi.  Meditate, process, whatever you need to do, but get this
through your head.  I choose to be here.  I choose to work with Jim.  And I choose Jim as family. 
You can either accept that or not but my choice does not change because you can't accept it. 
Something else you should know.  If you try to drive him away, I'll never forgive you."

"And it will never work anyway so you needn't try it."  Jim's voice filled the room suddenly.  

Naomi stiffened.  "I hear that.  I think I need some time alone now."

"I understand," Blair stated simply.  Then she was gone, the breeze in her wake smelling faintly of
jasmine.

"Sorry, Chief.  I probably didn't help matters much."

"It's okay.  She'll process like she always has before, longer than before maybe, but she'll
eventually get over it."

Jim nodded at him.  "Brothers, huh?"

"Yeah," Blair blushed a little.  He should have known that Jim would have heard that.  "Do you
mind?"

"Not in the slightest.  Brotherhood ain't so bad."

"At least not when you get it right."  Blair's thoughts turned to the fraternity and Jim seemed to
know what he was thinking about right away.

"They don't count, Blair.  Hell, they barely qualify as human in my book."

"Maybe they were human once."

"Maybe, but not now.  But I'm not here for them, I'm here for you.  Wanna talk about it?"

"That's my line."  Blair smiled and Jim chuckled.

_________________________________________________________________________

Jim smiled fondly at the sleeping figure in the bed.  He leaned back in his chair after carefully
extricating his hand from his guide's.  Blair had literally fallen asleep mid-sentence just minutes
before.  They had talked for nearly an hour.  They had discussed everything and Blair had agreed
to talk to the department psychologist after his release.  Jim had known that hate crime
traumatized the victims tremendously and so expected Blair to be shaken up but he had not
known about Blair's previous experiences with prejudice.  Playground bullies were a far cry from
what he had suffered at the hands of Harris and the others but those small scars had been
reopened and added to the wounds inflicted on his friend, his little brother. *Little brother,* Jim
thought with affection and amusement.  Who would have thought he would be not only willing
but eager to call this neo-hippy flower child his little brother?  Jim tried to get comfortable in the
chair and had almost succeeded when a roll-away cot appeared next to him.  He looked up at the
nurse attached to the cot.

"I figured you weren't leaving so I brought this," she explained softly.

"Thanks."  

She helped him unfold it and then make it up with the sheets and blanket she had brought. 
"You're welcome," she said then.  "I'll bring you back a pillow."

Jim thanked her again and lay down.  He did not remember her returning but the next morning, he
woke up hugging a pillow.

When Simon arrived with Mathis and Reese in tow, Jim took the opportunity to excuse himself to
go home and shower, leaving behind his promise to return as soon as he could.  He was halfway
to the loft when the call came.

"Ellison."

"I'm supposed to meet him down at the ferry at noon but you may want to get your hands on him
before then," Derrick Baker told him.

"Why's that?"

"He said some stuff that makes me think he's going after your partner again.  I'd be at the hospital
if I were you."

Jim spun the truck around in the middle of street, prompting many screeching tires and not a few
horns.  "Thanks," he grounded out through his clenched teeth before tossing the phone onto the
seat to concentrate on his driving, only to pick it up again when he realized that he should warn
Simon and call for backup.  

_______________________________________________________________________

Naomi Sandburg's tearful eyes burned holes in him as Simon tried again to reason with the young
man that held her captive.  Rotten luck, that was what it was.  She was in the wrong place at the
wrong time.  A nurse saying hello to her had told Kevin Harris what a valuable hostage she would
be.  The only good news was that Harris had never made it down the hall to Blair's room.  Simon
had been leaving, Mathis and Reese right behind him, when he caught sight of Harris.  Before he
or the federal agents could respond, however, Naomi was held tightly in Harris's grasp.  

"Son, it's over.  Don't make this any worse than it is.  Put down the gun and let her go."  Simon's
phone rang then and he handed it back to Reese to answer.  He was not even aware of phone after
that until Reese was trying to hand it back to him.

"That was Ellison.  He's on his way back," Reese whispered.

"How far?"

"Didn't say."

"Damn."  Simon turned back to Harris.  He took in the young man's appearance.  He was dirty
and disheveled.  His eyes had a wild glint in them that Simon had come to associate with the
insane.  Harris had gone over the edge.  He was going to kill Blair's mother and then he would try
to take them out as well and Simon was at a loss as to what he could do to stop it. Then things
went from bad to worse.

"Simon?"  The weak voice behind him could only have been one person.  

"Blair, go back to your room, son.  You shouldn't be on your feet." He blocked Blair's way but
not before he got a glimpse of what was happening.

"Mom?"  

Simon closed his eyes and made a decision that he hoped Blair would forgive him for later. 
"Mathis, could you get Blair back into his room?"

"No!  Simon, that's my Mom!"

"I know that, son, but I don't want him to get another shot at you.  Let me handle this.  Jim's on
his way.  We'll take care of it."

"No, Simon!"  Blair protested even as Mathis gently but firmly forced him back down the hall. 
Orenda met them at the door of Blair's room and swiftly sedated her struggling patient.  Mathis
disappeared into the room and returned moments later without Blair Sandburg.  Orenda Milap
shrugged at Simon from the door of the room and then ducked back inside.  Only then did Simon
realize that Kevin Harris was demanding that Blair be turned over to him.  He was screaming at
Blair to come back out into the hallway and take his punishment.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jim took the stairs three at a time.  When he had reached Reese instead of Simon, he had known
what was happening.  His trip back to the hospital was a blur, his mind only able to focus on his
goal: to get back to Blair.  Using the techniques that Blair taught him, Jim pinpointed Harris's
location before he hit the landing on the third floor and he smiled grimly.  Harris would never see
him coming.  The young man had set him up so that he could see the elevators.  Smart, but not
smart enough.  He forgot about the stairs.  His back was to the stairs.  Jim barreled through the
door and took Harris down before he had time to react.  Of course, Naomi would be a little
bruised but she was alive.  It was anticlimactic really.  Simon, Mathis and Reese swarmed around
Jim and his prey.  Jim slammed the younger man's hand against the floor until he released the gun
then hauled him up and shoved him toward the stunned federal agents.  Harris was screaming at
him, calling Blair a kike and Jim a kike-lover.  Most of the rest of the ranting was unintelligible
but there was something there about brothers.  

"Are you all right, Jim?" Simon asked.

"Yeah."  Jim stepped over to Harris who was now cuffed. "You know nothing about
Brotherhood, you little bastard."  Then he turned to Mathis.  "Get that trash outta here, will you,
guys?" he addressed Mathis and Reese.

Mathis nodded solemnly and pulled Harris toward the elevator.  The man was still screaming
when the doors closed. 

Jim sighed.  Simon was helping Naomi up from the floor and the nurse who had hidden behind the
nurse's station came out to look her over.  "Are you okay, Naomi?"

"Yes, I think so.  That boy was crazy."

"No kidding." Jim leaned back on the wall behind him.  "You should get Orenda to check you
out.  Or...somebody.  I know you don't like Orenda."

"I'm sure she's a competent doctor and she took great care of Blair."

Jim stood up straight.  "Speaking of Blair, how the hell did you keep him out of this, Simon?"

"Mathis and Orenda.  Mathis took him back to his room and Orenda sedated him."

"Oh, is he gonna be pissed!" Jim smiled evilly.  

"I know.  And I told Mathis to do it so I guess my name will be Mud for a while."

"You are so screwed." Jim chuckled.

"Thank you, Jim.  You are so very helpful."

_____________

EPILOGUE

_____________


"Hello, Jim."  Naomi's tone was civil.  Just civil, not friendly but it was better than hostile so Jim
smiled and was just as civil.  

"Hello Naomi.  Come on in."  Jim stepped back and allowed her to enter the loft and Blair's
Welcome Home party.  

On the other side of the room, Mark Coley approached his anthropology teacher with his head
down. "Mr. Sandburg?"

"Hi Mark.  How's it going?"

"Okay, I guess.  With Kev, you know, I'm back at the dorm and back in my classes."

"Good."

"Listen, I just wanted to say I'm sorry.  If I had said something sooner maybe--"

"It's all right."  Blair smiled.  "Look, no doubt you're behind now.  I have some time before I can
get back to work but while I'm sitting around, I can help you get caught up."

Simon handed Jade a glass of punch.  "Oh!" she exclaimed.  "You'll never guess who called me
yesterday."

"Who?"

"Aren't you even going to try to guess?" she teased.

"Noooooo, who?"

"Derrick Baker." She was solemn again instantly.  "He's not convinced but he's thinking."

"Well, I'll be damned."

"A little different from my response."

"Which was?"

"Damn, I'm good."  She shrugged, a mischievous little smile on her face.  

Simon nearly choked on his punch but he could not bring himself to disagree.

Much later, only Simon, Jade and Naomi remained to help clean up.  Simon and Jade eventually
ended up on the couch keeping Blair company as the three of them watched Jim and Naomi be
oh-so-polite to each other as they worked together to put the finishing touches on the kitchen. 
Blair shook his head as his mother and his partner began to argue, still ever so nicely, over which
way the kitchen towel should be folded.
"Jade, what am I going to do?  They're going to politely beat each other to death."

"They'll work it out," She assured him.

"Maybe, but what about in the meantime?  This could very well drive me insane."

"I have a suggestion," Simon spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"Run like hell, son. Just run like hell."

"Oh, you are too funny."

"Learning to duck would probably be a good idea, too." The older man was obviously trying not
to laugh out loud.

"You are digging your grave, Banks.  You're already on my list, you know."

But Simon, big manly Simon Banks, was much too busy snickering and giggling to pay much
attention to the threats and the sight of that inevitably caused the corners of Blair's mouth to
twitch until his only recourse, lest he start laughing to was to call in the big guns.  There was one
thing that Jim and Naomi would and could get together on.  Protecting him.  "Mom, Jim!  Simon
is picking on me!"


The end

  

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