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**********

   Simon never felt comfortable at the university. It was interesting to him that Jim had managed to achieve a certain easy familiarity with this place. The faculty treated him with the same amused affection that Simon's detectives showed Blair. Most of them, taking their cue from Jim and Blair's first meeting, called Jim "Friday".
   Simon, on the other hand, wasn't well-known at Rainier, and he attracted more than a few suspicious stares as he waited outside Blair's office for a pair of students to leave. The students, apparently, were waiting for Blair to get back.
   "Why don't you just leave it on his desk?" a young man was saying.
   "I want to make sure he gets it," an equally young woman answered. "I'm lucky he gave me an extension, considering."
   "What happened, anyway? I thought you were done that a week ago."
   "I was. I just hadn't printed it out yet. What happened was that my roommate was sitting at my computer and eating a Blizzard."
   "There has to be more to this."
   "He left half of his Blizzard sitting beside the computer, where it melted. So, my dog comes along a few hours later and tips it over. It lands on my floppy and the power cord. I get home and the damned dog is surrounded by chocolate-covered bits of plastic. He's been recycling my essay all week. Not to mention, I have to get a new power cord for my computer, since he chewed straight through it."
   "And he's not dead?"
   "No. The power bar was turned off. Unfortunately."
   Simon leaned against the well. It seemed it wasn't just Sandburg ... everyone around here lived on the ragged edge of disaster.
   "So, what'd you tell your prof?"
   "The truth. The dog ate my fucking homework."
   "Jesus. What'd he say?"
   "Well, after he stopped laughing..."
   Simon smiled. He could picture the way Blair would react to a story like that.
   "He gave me a week's extension. And he said I shouldn't keep my backup anywhere near my computer."
   "Which is true."
   "Yeah, I know. He was pretty cool about it, thank god."
   "I heard he was good. I tried to get into one of his classes last semester, but the waiting list was ridiculous."
   "He's really interesting ... and he's not hard to look at."
   Simon felt a headache coming on.
   "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."
   "But he marks *way* hard. I heard he started university really young, so maybe he thinks everything is easier than it really is, you know?"
   "Yeah. I had a physics prof like that. Sucks. He was an asshole, too."
   "At least Sandburg's nice."
   Simon wondered if he should stick his head in there, make sure they weren't stealing anything. He was moving to the door when the girl spoke again, stopping him.
   "Did you hear someone tried to drown him last spring?"
   Simon shut his eyes. Of course the whole damned campus would know.
   "Oh, yeah. I heard it was some girlfriend of his."
   "No, I don't think so. He's been working with the cops for his doctorate. Two years ago he walked into a friend of mine's anth 101 class on crutches. Said he'd been shot."
   "Wild. I wonder why he got drowned. You should ask him."
   "Yeah, right. *You* fucking ask him."
   "I can't really talk about it," a soft voice said. Simon's eyes flew open. Blair must have walked right past him. "Is that your essay?"
   "Yeah."
   She sounded horribly embarrassed. Simon was glad.
   "Thanks for the extension. I'm sorry about..."
   "It's okay," Blair told her. "Really. It's just ... not up for discussion."
   The students left quickly. Simon glared at them as they went by, for good measure.
   "You gonna stand out there all night, Simon?"
   Blair was at his desk when Simon entered the office, looking grown-up and smart with papers all around him and glasses framing his intense eyes. Simon saw that Blair's hands were shaking and had to fight the urge to put his arms around the kid. No sense giving Sandburg the impression that he could play Simon the way he played his partner.
   "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Simon said, taking a seat.
   Blair didn't look up from the paper he was reading, but he smiled.
   "As long as you don't want me to extend a deadline or change a grade, you're more than welcome." He set the paper down. "Is something wrong?"
   "Wrong? Well, Jim is in serious danger of suffocating under a pile of paperwork."
   "Uh huh." Blair didn't look surprised. "I think the reason he went along with our deal in the first place was that it occurred to him I could probably type."
   "That would explain it," Simon agreed. "So ... when can we expect to see you at the station?"
   Blair's eyes were bright.
   "I didn't think I was on your payroll."
   "No, no, you aren't ... but you always say that you want to be recognized as part of the team, and that goes hand in hand with showing up for work."
   Blair stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh. He laughed for what Simon judged to be about a year, until tears were streaming down his face. He finally lay his head on the desk so that Simon could only see his shoulders shaking.
   "Glad I could brighten your day, Sandburg."
   Blair raised his head and wiped his eyes.
   "Oh, god, Simon ... you say *I'm* a bad liar ... that was *awful*! What did you really want? Jim didn't send you here, did he? Because I thought you told him you didn't want to be a go-between."
   "Does it ever occur to either of you that something I say to one of you might be confidence?"
   Blair shrugged.
   "Only if you say it is. I thought you expected partners to talk to each other."
   Simon looked at him without much warmth.
   "Do you make yourself annoying on purpose, or is it just a side effect of your personality?"
   Blair smiled and began organizing the papers on his desk.
   "It depends. I know you hate this, man, but you are in *my* office, so why don't you tell me what you're doing here?"
   He met Simon's eyes with calm and effortless confidence. Simon saw suddenly that he had no authority here. In this office, he wasn't Blair's boss. He was a man with very little post-high school education sitting in front of a professor with two degrees and most of a doctorate to his name. He wasn't going to get Blair's subservience. The best he could hope for was that Blair considered him a friend.
   "Jim's been distracted, and you haven't been around. He told me you were having some personal problems. I know this isn't really any of my business, and I'll probably be sorry I stuck my nose in, but I have to admit I'm a little concerned."
   Blair took a few moments to think that over, carefully shifting papers into his backpack. Simon was starting to give up on ever getting an answer when the kid finally spoke.
   "It's okay. It will be, anyway. It's just ... I never expected to be *involved* in this whole Sentinel thing, you know? I thought I'd observe, make notes, help him with his senses ... but ever since Incacha called me a shaman ... " He shrugged, hands playing idly with a scrap of paper. "I'm not just on a ride-along anymore."
   Simon leaned back in his chair.
   "Just so long as you don't drag me any futher into this."
   Blair rewarded him with a smile.
   "I didn't drag you here tonight."
   "No," Simon conceded. "You didn't. But there *is* another reason I came." He pulled a racing program from his coat pocket and set it in front of Blair. "Any recommendations?"
   "I bet Jim's told you not to encourage me."
   "Do you see Jim around here anywhere?"
   Blair nodded.
   "Good point."
   He took the sheet and looked it over, chewing on the end of his pen. He was immersed in it so completely that the outside world might as well have disappeared, and it occurred to Simon that there might be a reason the kid understood zone-outs so well.
   Quickly, Blair circled a few names and returned the program to Simon.
   "You didn't get those from me," he said. "They came to you in a dream."
   Simon folded the paper and tucked it away.
   "I'll go you one better. I was never here."
   "No." Blair shook his head, curls flying everywhere. "That's no good. He'll smell your cigars."
   "What?" Simon asked, confused. "I'm not smoking."
   "I know. He'll smell them anyway."
   Simon raised his eyebrows.
   "I didn't realize his sense of smell was that acute."
   Blair's mouth curved a little at one side.
   "Normally it isn't ... unless he concentrates."
   "What are you saying, Sandburg? That he checks you over when you get home?"
   Blair seemed nervous, as though he'd given too much away.
   "I'm not sure he does it on purpose. He might just be, like, really tuned into me. But he always knows where I've been and who I've been talking to."
   "That would drive me nuts," Simon told him.
   "It's okay once you get used to it. He gives me grief about something that's none of his business, I tell him to go to hell."
   "I can't see him liking that too much."
   Blair looked at the pen in his hands as if wondering where it had come from. He put it in a drawer.
   "No, but what am I gonna do? Can't lie to him -- you know that. He just has to understand that he can't push me around. As long as he's got that, everything's cool."
   Simon didn't think he could handle that kind of scrutiny, but Sandburg was pretty laid back. If it really bothered him, Simon guessed he would've been gone a long time ago.
   "You know how Jim is," he said. "He worries about you."
   "I know. It's good. I just ... I've always had a lot of freedom, and this is ... " He took a deep breath, warning Simon that he intended to go on for awhile. Simon didn't care. He didn't have anywhere he needed to be. "The thing is, Jim's given me a home and he's family to me, and I love that, but that comes with restrictions. I'm not used to it. And everytime I think this is it, I don't have any more privacy to give up ... well, I'm always wrong. This Sentinel thing demands a lot."
   Simon was getting worried for the kid. It sounded like a lot of pressure, and Blair really was young.
   "Maybe you should tell Jim how you feel."
   "He knows. He good about it ... like, *way* better than you'd think. The thing is, neither of us has any choice, so we *have* to deal. But it's like Jim said the other night -- he was born to this, and I probably was to, so we must have what it takes."
   Simon laughed softly, and Blair blinked in confusion.
   "What?"
   "I was just thinking about how I resented it, when you and Jim first met. I had this good friend, and all of a sudden he was spending all of his time with some weird little hippy, and if I wanted to see my friend pretty soon I had to put up with the kid, too. And the hell of it, Blair, was that I couldn't complain. I mean, sure, I said things, but god help me if I went too far, because the sun rose and set on you right from the start. I thought you were stealing my friend."
   "Simon, I never meant--"
   "I know. I know. And you didn't. I resented Jim pushing you on me, but ... " Simon paused, then admitted it. "He was right about you."
   Blair looked down, suddenly shy. Simon put one big hand over both of Blair's.
   "I see what goes on. You two are damned hard on each other sometimes. And even when you're not fighting ... I can see that you're both very demanding. No lies, no secrets ... to be honest with you, Sandburg, I don't think you and Jim are friends because of this Sentinel thing. I think you're friends in spite of it."
   Blair had a gleam in his eye that Simon thought might be academic interest.
   "You may have something there."
   Simon thought of the look that had been on Jim's face the other night, the lazy contentment of a big cat after a kill. There was no question about what Jim wanted ... but Simon wasn't sure if anyone had ever asked Blair. He didn't want to get this involved, but the sad thing was, there wasn't anyone else in the world who could do it.
   "Tell me something, Sandburg. All the trouble ... is it worth it to you?"
   "I told you -- we don't have any choice."
   "Pretend you do. What would you choose?"
   Blair smiled, and it reached his eyes.
   "It's worth it."
   Satisfied, Simon stood up.
   "Then you're all right."
   He was at the door when Blair's voice stopped him.
   "Simon?"
   "*What*, Sandburg? I want to get home before the sun comes up."
   "I'll be at the station tomorrow."
   Simon nodded.
   "See you tomorrow."
   He left.

**********

   To the untrained eye, Blair and Jim wouldn't have seemed quite right the next day ... but Simon was well-versed in their behaviour, and he figured they were just fine. Jim wasn't standing as close to Blair as he usually did, wasn't touching him as often, but the distance wasn't cold. Jim's actions were clearly solicitous, a gentle concession to Blair. And, just as clearly, Blair appreciated it.
   Simon wasn't at all surprised when, toward the end of the day, Blair stood behind Jim's chair and placed shaking hands on Jim's shoulders. Jim, without turning around, shut his eyes and smiled.
   Simon also wasn't surprised, a few days later, to find Blair wearing a new earring. It was a hoop of white gold, intricately --and no doubt expensively-- etched. Simon didn't know what it symbolized, but from the way the kid kept reaching up to touch it, it was pretty obvious that it meant the world to Blair.

   The day of the full moon, Simon half-expected Jim and Blair to take a day's leave. Whatever this ritual called for, it seemed pretty intense, adn he'd thought they might want time to think.
   But no, they showed up right on time, and behaved as conventionally as they ever did ... until about two o'clock that afternoon.
   Jim stopped on his way out of the break room, face twisted with pain. Blair went to him immediately, placing a hand on Jim's shoulder and speaking to him soothingly. As soon as Jim was able to focus on his partner, he grabbed Blair's shoulders in a grip that must have hurt.
   Simon was beside them by then, and he heard Jim's harsh whisper.
   "He's in Cascade."
   "Okay," Blair said, scared but standing his ground. "We can deal with this."
   "*We* aren't going to deal with this. I am. You're going to stay here with Simon."
   "Jim, I don't think that's such a good--"
   "Damn it, Blair, he's looking for you. I am going to get to him before he finds you, and you are going to stay here where you're safe. Have you got that?"
   Simon could swear that when he got mad enough, Blair's eyes actually gave off a physical chill.
   "Let's discuss this in Simon's office," he suggested with just as much ice in his voice. They went, and Simon followed. He'd briefly considered giving them their privacy, but hell, it was *his* office.
   Once the door was shut, Blair turned on Jim.
   "You know what'll happen if you go after him. You'll kill him, or he'll kill you. I say we stay right here, and as soon as he lays a hand on me -- which we both know he will -- we can have him locked up until tomorrow, when this will not be a problem anymore. Have *you* got that?"
   "He is NOT going to touch you!"
   Simon felt gooseflesh rise at Jim's tone. He didn't think he'd ever heard anyone so furious. And there was something else, something ... primitive ... that Simon didn't even want to think about.
   With admirable calm, Blair put a hand on Jim's arm.
   "Stand down, big guy," he said evenly. "This isn't the jungle. And one touch is not going to hurt me."
   They locked eyes for an uncomfortably long time. Simon was beginning to wish he *had* stayed outside when Jim placed a hand over Blair's and took a few deep breaths.
   "You sure I can't kill him?" he asked with a slight smile. Blair smiled back and shook his head.
   "Behave," he said. Jim's smile grew. Simon decided it was okay to breathe again.
   Jim turned his head toward his desk.
   "My phone's ringing," he said on his way out the door. Blair stayed back. He was giving Simon a look that was dangerously close to the way Daryl looked when he needed his dad to bail him out of a mess.
   [Oh, Jesus, Sandburg ... I know you don't have a father, but give me a break, here...]
   "Simon? Promise me you won't let him do anything stupid."
   Simon gawked at him.
   "*I'm* supposed to stop him? You're the lion-tamer around here, Sandburg."
   "Promise me," Blair insisted. With the anger gone, Simon could see how scared he really was.
   "I promise," he said before he could stop himself. Blair relaxed, and Simon scowled. The unstinting trust in those wide blue eyes made letting Blair down unthinkable. Simon was convinced the kid had practised that look in front of a mirror.
   Satisfied that he had Simon's compliance, Blair had turned his attention to Jim. Even from the office, Simon could see a stiffness to Jim's shoulders that said trouble.
   "Shit," Blair said succinctly, taking off for Jim's desk.
   Jim was still on the phone, almost growling his words.
   "No, he isn't. No--shut up. You know what I am. You think I would let that happen? He doesn't need you. Stay away from him."
   There was a pause while Jim listened, growing angrier by the second. Blair tugged at his arm, but Jim swatted his hand away.
   "You had no right to do this. He is not *yours*."
   The implicated of that was clear. Simon didn't like it. Blair, who was still vying for Jim's attention, didn't seem to have noticed.
   "You're not too good with plain English, are you Sparky? Let me lay it out for you again. You are -- no, you can't. He doesn't have anything to say to you. Shut up. He'll have what he needs, and he doesn't need you. Now, get the hell out of my city before I--"
   He was silent again for a moment. A cold smile crossed his mouth.
   "What do you know? You finally got it. You weren't going to tell him that, were you? You didn't want him to know he had a choice ... yes, I can, but that's not our problem. Leave us alone. You lost. Live with it."
   Jim slammed the phone down.
   "You know," Blair said gently in the sudden silence. "he's going to come here anyway."
   Jim looked at him, and to Simon's shame he was relieved that Jim's gaze was aimed at Blair. Jim might have stepped straight out of the jungle.
   "Oh," he said, touching Blair's dark curls, "I know."
   Simon turned on his heel and went to his office. It was too late, but he was at least going to enjoy a few minutes of pretending that he wasn't involved.

   It was decided that Jim and Blair would wait in one of interrogation rooms, where they'd be out of the way,. and where Simon could keep an eye on things. They both seemed convinced that this man would find them wherever they were.
   Simon asked if it wouldn't be simpler to arrest the man for whatever he had done to Blair on his last visit to Cascade, but Blair wasn't having any of that. He still didn't want to talk about it, let alone file an official report.
   "So, let me get this straight," Simon said. "Your plan hinges on this guy losing his cool and attacking you in some way, and Jim staying back long enough to let that happen, so that we can put the man under arrest."
   "Right," Blair said.
   "And you think this is gonna work, with the state your partner is in."
   "His partner is standing right here," Jim reminded them.
   "It doesn't matter where you are," Simon told him, and Blair's mouth curved up for just a second before he got it under control.
   "Jim will be fine," Blair said.
   Simon rubbed his temples. He had one hell of a headache coming on.
   "You know what happens when another sentinel enters his territory. What makes you so sure he can control himself?"
   Jim's eyes darkened in a way that was bad for Simon's nerves. Blair put a hand on Jim's back, and Jim looked at his partner. They didn't say anything, but after a look into Blair's eyes, Jim opted to wait in the interrogation room. After the door had shut behind him, Blair smiled at Simon.
   "He has me."

**********

   Simon didn't turn the intercom on, so he couldn't hear their words, but he watched them through the one-way glass. Jim was standing so close to Blair that it would've been hard to slide a credit card between them, making Blair tilt his head far back to meet Jim's eyes.
   Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder, compulsively releasing and then tightening his grip, over and over. Blair spoke rapidly, worry plain on his face. Jim slouched, looking unhappy but acquiescent. He let Blair go and backed away.
   Once he'd left the interrogation room, he stood beside Simon and watched Blair through the glass.
   "He thinks it might be a better idea if I waited in the break room. You can call me when the guy shows up."
   Simon looked at Jim. Jim's eyes were locked on Blair, and his jaw muscle was twitching.
   "I won't let him get hurt, Jim."
   Jim nodded, still looking at Blair.
   "I know."
   He shut his eyes and left. Although he couldn't have seen or heard Jim go, Blair looked up as soon as Jim turned from the one-way glass. His stayed fixed on Jim's back as Jim walked away.
   Simon had an irrational urge to press the intercom and tell Sandburg to knock it off, because this witch doctor bullshit was starting to give his poor, rational captain a bad case of the creeps.

**********

   Blair sat perfectly still for the next half hour, so still that Simon was tempted to go in there and check his pulse. Simon finally decided that the kid must be doing some weird meditation thing and left it alone.
   When Blair abruptly stood and moved to stand against the back wall of the room, Simon was startled enough to drop his cigar. Less than a minute later, the door to the outer room opened and Simon knew that their guest had arrived.
   He was younger than Jim, and not so broadly built, but something about the intensity of his face made Simon think that this man could be mistaken for Jim's brother.
   The second he saw the Sentinel's eyes, he knew there wouldn't be time to call the break room. Even at his worst, Jim had never been as far gone as the man who was moving toward the interrogation room door. He was feral, beyond the reach of reason. He didn't even seem to notice that Simon was there.
   He was on Blair before Simon could stop him, grabbing a handful of hair and forcing him against the wall. Simon took out his gun and moved to their side.
   "Let him go and step away!"
   The man responded by giving Blair another rough shove into the wall. Blair tried to turn his face away, but the hand in his hair kept him still.
   Before Simon could speak again, Jim entered the room. The other Sentinel let Blair go and faced Jim. Simon was badly afraid that someone wasn't going to live through this, and he could see that Blair was just as frightened.
   "Jim," Simon said," keep back. I'm going to put him under arrest."
   Simon couldn't even be sure that Jim had heard. He kept moving forward, slowly, as though he was savouring the thought of tearing the enemy apart.
   Besides the fact that he didn't believe in using his gun when it wasn't absolutely necessary, Simon was starting to worry about who the bullet would hit. He backed away, wondering if it might be a better idea to let Jim drop this guy. Then he and Blair could stop Jim before it went any further.
   Blair seemed to feel the same way. He was rooted to the spot where he'd been pushed, breathing hard, watching every move Jim made.
   The other Sentinel put up a fight that astonished Simon. He'd only seen that kind of desperation in men who were fighting for their lives. Carefully, Simon placed himself between Blair and the fight. He didn't want the kid getting hit by a stray blow.
   It was a hell of an effort, but Jim was fighting just as hard. The younger man went down, and it looked as though he was going to stay down. Jim reached for him again, intent on finishing the matter.
   Blair moved past Simon and put his hands on Jim's arms.
   "Don't," he said. "C'mon, Jim. Let him go. It's over. You won. Let him go."
   Jim gave the other sentinel a shake, and for a second Simon thought he might ignore Blair, but then he opened his hands and let the body fall.
   Jim turned to Blair and reached to touch him. Blair jumped back and placed himself against the wall, shaking.
   Simon couldn't do much for that, so he chose to attend to business. He went through the motions of putting an unconscious man under arrest, and it was then that he noticed the noise had attracted attention. Half the department was in the doorway, most of them gaping at the scene.
   "Who the hell is that guy?" Brown asked, speaking for all of them. Blair smiled a little. That unpleasant, wicked sense of humour was in his eyes.
   "Full moon," he explained with a shrug.
  
   Simon let his men take care of the details, then ushered them out of the interrogation room as quickly as he could manage. Jim was pacing one corner of the room, Blair was trembling in the other, and neither of them looked happy.
   He left them alone, but couldn't keep himself from turning to the one way glass and watching from the outer room.
   Jim stopped pacing and faced Blair. Blair tried on something that looked vaguely like a smile, then gave it up. Jim moved forward enough to rest his hip against the table, then extended his hands. Blair looked from Jim's hands to his face, back and forth a few times before taking a shaky step toward Jim. Jim didn't move. He might not even have been breathing.
   Blair lay his hands over Jim's, and Jim caught them gently. Blair gave him a real smile and wrapped his arms around Jim's waist. Jim shut his eyes and pressed his face into the curve where Blair's neck and shoulder met. He ran a hand over Blair's hair, barely touching it. Then he whispered something in Blair's ear, and Blair nodded. He stepped back and left the room.
   "I'm gonna head back to the loft," he told Simon, apparently unsurprised to find him at the window.
   "Good. Go home, relax."
   Blair touched his arm.
   "Thanks."
   Simon pressed Blair's shoulder and went to talk to Jim.

**********

   "You okay?"
   Jim didn't look at Simon.
   "Yeah. I'm still ... edgy. I want that son of a bitch out of Cascade."
   "I hear that," Simon said, provoking a smile from Jim. "Look, Jim, if you want to cut out of here early..."
   "Nah. I have some work to finish up ... and Sandburg could use a little down time."
   "You guys finish this tonight?"
   Jim had an odd smile, one Simon didn't think he'd seen on Jim's face before.
   "You could say that. But you know how it is, sir ... you close one door, you open another."
   The conversation ended there because Jim walked away before Simon could think of any response.

**********

   Simon was one of the last to leave that evening. On his way past Jim's desk, he noticed that Sandburg had forgotten his backpack. That was a little unusual, thought definitely not out of character. The really strange thing was that Jim hadn't noticed it sitting there and simply brought it home.
   Oh, well ... it wouldn't kill him to drop the backpack by the loft on his way home.
  
   It was nearly seven when he arrived, and he was surprised when he had to wait for the door to be answered. When Jim was home, as Simon had expected him to be, the door was usually answered before Simon had a chance to knock.
   This time it was Blair who opened the door and ushered Simon into a loft lit by a fireplace and candles.
   "My backpack ... thanks, man. I have an eight o' clock class tomorrow. Not having it wouldn't seriously sucked."
   "Sandburg, did it ever occur to you that you might get more respect as a university professor if you didn't sound like one of your students?"
   Blair grinned.
   "My *students* respect me."
   Somewhere in the back of his mind, it struck Simon that the attitude was perfectly Blair. But most of Simon's brain was dealing with what his eyes were showing him, now that they'd adjusted to the dimness of the loft.
   Simon knew that Blair was generally considered a good-looking guy, although personally he wished the kid would get a haircut and some normal clothes. But there was something strange about Blair tonight.
   He was wearing a dark blue shirt and faded jeans, one just a little too dark and the other a little too light to match his eyes. His hair was brushed out so that every highlight shone, lightening the colour from almost black to a warm reddish-brown.
   His eyes seemed even larger than usual, the lashes longer. He didn't look like a scruffy neo-hippy. He looked as if he might be hiding a pair of wings behind his back.
   Blair was silent, very serious, and Simon suddenly understood that he was seeing something intensely private.
   "Where's Jim?" he asked.
   "He went to pick up dinner."
   "Well ... uh ... I should go. Good luck with whatever this thing is."
   Blair was leaning against the kitchen island, somehow managing to look both older and younger then usual.
   "Thanks for bringing my backpack."
   "No trouble. I'll see you tomorrow."
   [But not *this* you. I'd be very surprised if I ever saw this again.]
   Blair nodded. Simon let himself out.

**********

  
   Simon was greeted the next morning by the news that yesterday's guest had died in the night. Heart attack, apparently. Simon went to Jim's desk to inform him and found Jim humming to himself.
   "Jim ... I don't know if you've heard ..."
   Jim looked up from a stack of paperwork.
   "Yes, sir?"
   "The other Sentinel ... he died last night. They think it was a heart attack."
   Jim didn't even blink.
   "I knew something must have happened," he said mildly. "Couldn't feel him. Not that it matters anymore," he added. "Good enough."
   He went back to his paperwork, and the humming.
   "I take it," Simon said, "everything went well last night?"
   Jim glanced at him. He had that content look again, the one Simon couldn't stand.
   "Yup."
   Back to the papers.
   "How's the kid?"
   Jim shut his eyes.
   "Ah ... good," he said slowly. "He's a little tired. His class must have let out early. I'm pretty sure he's in his office." He opened his eyes. "He'll probably be here soon, so you can ask him yourself."
   Simon didn't ask how Jim knew that. What good would it do?
   "You got what you wanted?" Simon asked, surprising himself with both the words and the anger as they slipped from his mouth. He didn't even really know what he was angry about.
   Jim didn't bristle. He gazed at Simon placidly.
   "Yes, sir," he said. "I did."
   Simon, who didn't know a lot but considered it too fucking much, had nothing left to say. He went to his office and shut the door.