Disclaimer: The characters we all know and love - Jim, Blair, Simon, et al - aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them and I'll return the lot of them when I'm done. (I promise NOT to dampen the Guide.)

Notes: You all know how dangerous it is when I start thinking. Well, I was watching a bunch of tapes over the weekend (basically cause I was immobile on the couch due to a sinus infection) and started thinking. Me thinking WITHOUT the aid of decongestants is bad enough. Anywho...just a couple things that were running around in that void between my ears.

Feedback welcome: good, bad, or ugly. Send it to: wnnepooh@erols.com

SANDY GET YOUR GUN

by Wnnepooh

He didn't think twice, just raised the gun, took aim, and fired. A volley from another direction, and he went through the motions again. Knowing the threat was gone, he threw the gun aside and turned his attention to the man next to him.

~~~~~

Jim had taken two shots while protecting him, pushing the young anthropologist out of the way. "JIM! Gees,Jim." came Blair's panicked voice. "JIM! Look at me, man. I need you to stay alert, buddy." His hands fumbled with his Swiss Army Knife, opening a sharp blade to cut away the fabric of the detective's shirt. The shots were close to each other in the left shoulder, and although they weren't bleeding much, Blair was truly concerned. He couldn't feel any damage to the back of the shoulder and a quick tilting of Jim's body confirmed the absence of exit wounds - the slugs were still in there. Even without medical training, the anthropologist knew it was a dangerous situation. Either bullet could shift and go anywhere at any moment.

"JImmmmm...Jim, buddy. Open your eyes,man. Open em up. I gotta know you're with me here."

Two pairs of blue eyes locked and silent prayers found their way skyward.

"Okay, Jim." Blair started. "You gotta slow your breathing down. Repeat after me...I am..."

"I am..." he complied.

"Relaxed."

Mischief edged into the detective's eyes. "Maybe you are, Sandb..." and the pain stopped his laugh.

"Sandy." came the soft voice. "Medics are here, luv." Conner placed one hand on Blair's shoulder, the other on Jim's forehead. "How ya holding up?"

"No worries." the two men said at once, receiveing a brilliant smile from Megan.

The EMT's tried to push Sandburg aside, but he wouldn't move. At least not far. He stayed by Jim's side as they tended his partner. "I'm here, buddy." the everpresent answer to Jim's wild eyes.

~~~~~

"You WHAT?" Captain Banks yelled.

"We think there was another shooter." Rafe repeated.

"Do you think I'm deaf? I heard what you said. But just where the HELL could another shooter have been?" Simon wiped a hand down his face and looked out the window. "Let's go over this again." And the large man took his seat behind the desk and stared at the pictures. Pictures of three dead men from a situation gone awry. He listened to the voices recounting the incident reports they'd already been over a dozen times.

Jim and Blair had been on their way to investigate a warehouse that an anonymous caller had identified as a gang hang-out. In actuality, it was a half-way house for fugitives awaiting phony papers. An all-day surveilence had picked off nearly a dozen hoods in transit. Assured by the last couple cons they picked up, Jim had gone into the building on information that only three people were left - the forgers and a mule. Ellison had moved in, taking his partner with him. That in itself was proof that the detective had no reason to doubt the information and Simon was positive that Jim would have checked for any extra heartbeats. What had happened next - well, they'd have to take the current reports at face value until Simon could talk with Blair and Jim.

Evidently, when Jim had attempted the arrest, he'd found at least one of them had talents other than just forgery. At the sound of gunfire, the exterior units had called for backup and paramedics. Rafe and Brown went in at one end, heading directly to the downed cons. Megan and Joel had taken the opposite end and gone straight for Blair, knowing there was something VERY wrong.

Simon looked up as Rafe answered the knock on the door, accepting the files Rhonda offered.

"Weapons report, Captain."

"Well?"

"Ballistics confirms all six shots came from Ellison's .45. And only Ellison's and Sandburg's prints were on the gun."

Simon let out a long, slow breath and stood up. "Conner, you're with me. Rafe, Brown - see if Forensics can give me anything on angle of entry for each of the cons' wounds. And as soon as the Forensics comes in on the slugs from Jim's shoulder, I want to know."

They didn't need to know where he was going. It was a given.

The hospital.

~~~~~

"I don't understand, Sandburg." Simon repeated, shaking his head at the story the young man had given him.

"I SHOT them, Simon. What's NOT to understand?" Blair ran a hand through his hair and looked back through the glass to his partner, his best friend. It had been so easy to pick up the pistol and shoot them. He had NO problems defending Jim. What had taken him by surprise was the accuracy of his shots. *Who'd have thougt I'd still have the touch?* came the wild thought. "Look, Simon. It's bad enough I have to live with this...What else do you want?"

The pain in the kid's voice made Simon's answer stick in his throat. But it made him realize the kid needed to talk. "I want you," he started calmly, "to tell me WHY I should believe that a guy I know who has NO killer instinct would suddenly pick up his partner's weapon and kill two men. I understand self-defense could motivate you to fire blindly and self-preservation might motivate EVEN you to aim for legs or something. But Blair..." and he set a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Both men were killed with two shots directly to the chest. Amazing for a guy who doesn't carry or use a gun and avoids them like they were capable of giving him a nasty rash."

"I can't tell you any more, right now, Simon." he said with a sigh. "I've gotta tell Jim first. If we're still partners afterward, I'll tell you." Blair turned hurting eyes to his friend. "If we aren't, then it won't matter anyway - will it?."

Simon's further prodding was cut short as Megan walked out of the room with a smile.

"He's anxious to talk to you, Sandy." Blowing a kiss over her shoulder, the woman smiled and joined the Captain as he headed for a much needed cup of coffee.

~~~~~

"Hey, man. You had me worried." Blair said nervously. "How're the dials?"

"Sit down, Sandburg." Jim said quietly, reading the anxious bouncing and nail biting. "Spill it."

Sandburg knew that tone. It was the same wether on medication or not. It meant that Jim wanted answers. No lectures, no conjecture, not even a bit of random although relevant trivia. Blair refused the chair, prefering to pace out his explanation.

"I guess Megan filled in about the other two men." and he watched Jim nod slightly. "I shot them, Jim. You were laying there unconcious after you'd pushed me out of the way. I just went on instinct when I saw them coming to finish you off. I know, I know. I should've called for backup and run like Hell, but that's not what a partner does." Blair chanced a glance at Jim, noting the studious face.

"Okay." Blair said and stopped pacing, placing his hands in his pockets. "You know I hate guns. I've grown up with a firm belief in non-violence and a dislike of firearms. But I never said I DIDN'T know how to use them. I know I've mentioned my cousins in Texas. Each summer Naomi would take a retreat and send me to stay on the ranch. You cannot live in any part of Texas and NOT know how to fire a gun. But it's not like they do it just for fun. A lot of the training is for survival. Even just taking a walk in some parts of that state can be deadly. My uncle and cousins taught me a respect of weapons. Naomi taught me respect for life. It was up to me to work the two together."

Blair turned away abruptly, staring out the window and wrapping his arms about him for comfort. "It was hard, and I didn't learn my lesson quite fast enough. I was a cocky 14 year old, and I'd just won a countywide target-shooting championship." He chanced a glance over his shoulder. "Yeah, ME. Just the kinda macho thing a science geek dreams of doing. Needless to say, it didn't help my invincible attitude any. My aunt and uncle had gone out for the night, leaving the three of us alone. We heard some ruckus outside and went to investigate. I grabbed the gun just in case..." Tears burned his eyes and Blair tightened the grip around himself. "I heard a noise, yelled a warning, and fired." He felt his body jolt at the echoed memory. "It was a12 year old kid. He and a bunch of his buddies had come to prank around, but he'd gotten stuck in my aunt's blackberry bushes."

The nervous young man turned to face his partner now. He had to see Jim's eyes. When the judgement came down, he'd see it before Jim could say it. "I just got him in the arm. The Sheriff said the kid was lucky I wasn't wearing my glasses... I know I was the lucky one, though. I don't know what I would have done if I'd hurt him any worse." Blair moved his arms, knowing that no amount of shielding could help him against James Ellison. "Until I started riding with you, I hadn't picked up a gun since that night. I went to a science camp the following summer, then stayed at college the one after that... And until today, I never wanted to hurt someone as much as I wanted to hurt those two guys."

Jim looked at the anger plain on Blair's face. No matter how nervous the kid was about his confession, the contempt for the cons in the warehouse overpowered it. He'd seen the one guy pull his gun and fire, realizing only AFTER he'd taken the guy out that the poor man was a decoy. The pain in his shoulder reminded him of the other two men who'd immediately opened fire on Blair, knowing the detective's weapon was pointed in the opposite direction. The only thing that saved Sandburg, was Jim's Sentinel abilities. Jim said a grateful prayer for his hearing. He'd heard the guns being pulled and cocked and had just enough time to push his partner aside. He took a deep breath and momentarily focused on the rest of Blair's mutterings.

"I know I should have told you before - but it wasn't something I was proud of and, truthfully, I thought if anyone knew I could shoot, then they'd MAKE me carry..."

Jim tried not to laugh. Once the main part of the story had been told, Blair had jumped back into hyper-talk. With enhanced animation. His arms were up, then down, then out at the sides. Hands in pockets, in hair, back of his neck, tucked under arms. Jim let the kid ramble as his mind processed the information. Suddenly things made sense.

Things like Blair's actions during the Golden incident. For a person who refused to touch a gun, the kid certainly did handle Jim's revolver well enough. He'd stood on that car, flipping the cylinders around with ease. And the way he'd held the weapon, let alone fired it. In the heat of the moment, no one had really asked the questions of Blair's aim and how he'd managed to "miss" the fifteen or so cops that surrounded the car.

"I know it goes back to the trust thing..." he heard the kid ramble on.

Even out on the Island with Ruck. Sandburg had been able to hold the bucking weapon and aim it with some degree of accuracy. In the military, Jim had seen recruits drop lesser powered rifles at the first recoil. And many of them had been much stronger than his poor, muddled anthropologist. Other small memories surfaced. Like the kid helping to clean some of his weapons at home, and working with the ballistics reports. Even simple things like the way he always let himself be "dragged" to gun shows, yet the two friends always ended up in involved converstations regarding the handguns and their societal influences.

Jim had to say his name a couple times before Blair actually stopped pacing and talking. "Look, Chief. I'm not mad. If I'd read the clues right, I might've guessed there was something worth discussing. And yeah, maybe you should've told me sooner - we ARE friends, right?" He watched the kid nod and move closer to the bed. "I'm shocked, sure. Any partner would be. But I'm glad too. I know, now, that you can handle watching my back even in the worst circumstances."

Pain tore through Blair and he stepped away. "I can't, Jim. I won't."

"I'm not asking you to carry. And would you stand still?" He smiled. "You're going in and out of focus and it's giving me a headache."

A returned smile.

"All I'm saying is," the detective said quietly and grabbed his partner's arm, "thanks. Thanks for keeping yourself alive."

Blair shook his head and placed his free hand on Jim's good shoulder. "I was just being selfish, man. What would I do without my Blessed Protector, you know?" Blair watched his partner's eyes smile in spite of his obvious fatigue. "I really didn't care what happened to me - so long as I didn't have to hear Simon yelling about me being a trouble magnet. By the way, I want it clear that I had NOTHING to do with this fiasco..."

"You got it, Sandburg." Banks said brom the doorway. "There's only a few minutes left for visiting and I'd like a chance to talk to my detective, if you don't mind."

"Go on, Chief. We'll talk more in a couple days." And Jim nodded as he watched Blair leave the room and head for Megan and a waiting cup of tea. "Simon..."

"Yeah, Jim. I'll get the kid into the department shrink tomorrow." Simon looked seriously at his detective. "Jim. Are you two okay? Do you think it's getting to him?"

"Nah, Simon." Jim said. "It got to him a long time ago. He's just getting over it now. Do me a favor and take him home. Send someone with him, I don't want him alone. He'll just think too much, and with Sandburg that's dangerous..."

"You got it. Get some rest." A reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, and Simon made his way to the door. "Oh, by the way. Ballistics came back on the slugs from your shoulder. One each from the two men the kid - uh...dispatched. That's enough justification in my book." And he left.

Simon had already moved out of earshot when Jim replied rather drowsily.

"More than enough in mine."

~~~~~