December 23, Major Crime Bullpen, Midmorning

Simon Banks stepped off the elevator to the floor housing his department, his attention on the work schedule he carried. Unerringly, he made his way into the bullpen and toward his office without bumping into anyone or anything in his path. Reaching the door to his office, he stopped short when the presence of someone waiting there registered. Looking up, he was surprised to see his son, Daryl, sitting in a chair with a cup of coffee in his hands.

Taking a quick glance at his watch, he asked, "Daryl. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on a flight right about now?" Moving into the office, he took the empty chair sitting beside his son.

Daryl gave his father a shy smile and fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair before speaking. "Uh, yeah, Dad. But something came up and I couldn't leave. I mean, I was at the airport and just waiting for my plane to be called when I, uh, decided that it wasn't right to go."

"I don't understand. You were so excited about taking this trip."

Putting his coffee cup down on his father's desk, Daryl swiveled around in his chair until he faced his sire. "And I was. I got to the airport and started thinking about all the things I was going to do at the resort. Then, I met this really strange guy and he started talking about how important it was to spend as much time as possible with the ones that we loved, because we never know when there won't be any more time. It was really weird, but I felt like he was just looking straight through me with those eyes of his and reading my soul. Before I knew it, I was telling him about the hairy situations you and I've both been through and how close we've become."

Banks stared at his son with concern. "Who was this guy?"

"I have no idea, Dad, but he didn't act like he was dangerous or anything," Daryl said with a shaky laugh. "Though he did look like he'd slept in his clothes a couple of nights in a row. He had sort of long red hair and his goatee needed trimming. Anyway, one minute I'm sitting alone going over some stuff I was taking with me, and the next minute he's in the seat beside me asking if I was traveling alone. Somehow we got onto the subject of families and how we take the miracle of having someone that loves us for granted. And the more we talked, the more I felt that going on the trip was completely wrong. So, if you'll still have me, I'd love to spend the rest of my holiday with you."

A large smile spread across Simon's face as he reached up to clasp his hand on the back of Daryl's neck, giving it a small shake. "What do you mean if I'd have you, boy? You're my son and you're welcome at my place anytime. Where's your luggage? Were you able to get it back from the airport?"

Daryl's smile matched the one on his father's face. "My bags are sitting at Rhonda's desk. I didn't want to just have them lying around."

Reaching into his coat pocket, Simon pulled out his keys. "Here. Use the car to get your stuff home, then come back and pick me up around 5:00. We can go get something to eat, then do whatever you want."

"Cool," Daryl commented, looking at the keys like they were made of gold. When he stood and looked back up at his father, tears hovered at the corner of his eyes. "I love you, Dad."

Standing up, Simon opened his arms and, when his son moved into them, gave the young man a big hug. "I love you too, son," he whispered, his voice choking with emotion.

Slightly embarrassed, the two men broke apart. Daryl waved at Simon as he turned to walk out of the office, almost bumping into Jim. The black youth apologized quickly, wiping the moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes, and sidestepped around the larger detective.

"Hey, Daryl," Jim commented as the young man fled out of the office. The reply was a quick, behind-the-back wave as Daryl raced over to Rhonda's desk to grab a large, stuffed duffle bag, then out of the bullpen toward the elevator. "I thought he was supposed to be leaving today."

His back turned toward his detective, Simon quickly wiped his eyes, then moved around his desk to make the pretense of getting himself a cup of coffee. "He ~ahem~ said he had a change of plans. Coffee, Jim?"

"Thanks. Change of plans, huh? That's great. I take it you two will be spending the holidays together." Jim gave his superior a broad grin when the other turned around to hand him a mug. His sentinel eyes could easily see the presence of moisture still in the Captain's eyes and the way the man was trying not to look in Jim's face.

"Yeah. Daryl is going to take his stuff to my place, then come back to pick me up for dinner." Banks turned and stared off out his window. "It's really strange, but I had been wishing somehow for a miracle to happen that would get him to decide to stay and now he is."

"Did he say what it was?"

Ellison's question brought Banks' attention back into the office. "Huh? Oh, what changed his mind? He just said that he talked to this guy in the airport and decided that he wanted to stay."

Jim's eyes narrowed as a thought came to his mind. "By any chance, did Daryl tell you what the guy looked like?"

"Just some red-haired guy that looked like he wasn't too well off and had probably seen better days. Why? What's going on?"

"Sandburg and I've been seeing someone... someone who we know pretty good that keeps showing up at the strangest times. Remember a couple of years ago with all the city services were on strike and there was that murder Kaplan was involved with?"

"Who can forget? Homeless people all over the building, a crocodile that decided the ventilation system would make a good home and a killer running around the building shooting it up to kill that Mercado kid."

"Do you remember the guy Sandburg and I brought in. The one we thought might be a witness to the murder?"

"Oh, yeah. Blair was convinced that the guy might have been an angel because he wrote his statement in some weird dead language." Banks laughed at the memory. His laughter faltered when Ellison didn't join in. "You're not trying to say..."

Jim held up his hands to halt his superior's statement. "I'm not saying anything, sir. However, we've both seen this guy around town again. Sandburg saw him at that nursing home the other day and I saw him twice yesterday. He was outside the building just before we arrested the Santa mugger, then he showed up at the hospital later." At the last statement, Jim dropped his head to stare at the mug he was fiddling with in his hands.

"Did something happen at the hospital that I need to know?"

"Not really, sir. He, he just appeared behind me and... and told me I needed to pay attention to where Sandburg was and what was happening. I found him confronting two guys that were going through patients' stuff in their rooms."

Banks folded his arms across his chest and stared at his detective, watching the man squirm slightly in his chair. "The kid was in trouble. Where was his backup?"

"We were all working on taking down the others of the group. He now knows that he shouldn't have tried to stop the two on his own, but there were extenuating circumstances. But that's not the issue. There is no way that Gabe could have made it from downtown to the hospital unless he had been following us, and I would have noticed a tail. Also, how did he know Sandburg was in trouble?"

"So you think this Gabe is running around here helping us? Performing some types of miracles?" Banks' voice held an incredulous tone.

"All I know is that I never would have gotten off the elevator on the first floor or known that Blair had been in danger if Gabe hadn't been there both times."

"Daryl described the guy who had talked to him at the airport as having red hair, needing a... shave... and--"

"Dressed in rumpled clothes that looked like he'd been sleeping in them. That's Gabe, Simon." Jim sat back in his chair and stared straight into his Captain's face, daring him to disagree.

Both men were silent as they considered the situation. Finally, Banks leaned forward onto this desk. "Maybe there are some things that we shouldn't question, Jim. You were able to help Blair out when he was in trouble and my son decided he would rather spend Christmas with me than take a trip with school friends. I'd say we both received minor miracles. Wouldn't you?"

Jim studied his boss carefully, but didn't answer. Drinking down the last of the coffee in his mug, he stood up and walked over toward the door. Pausing for a moment, he looked back. "The invitation is still open to come over tomorrow night." With a small grin on his face, Jim walked out the door and closed it behind him.

As Ellison walked toward his desk, he noticed a young, uniformed officer standing in the middle of the bullpen with a confused look on his face. He held a piece of paper in his hand that he looked at occasionally as he scanned the room.

"Can I help you, Officer... Danko?" Jim asked, approaching the man and reading his nametag. The officer swung around quickly at the voice, quickly brushing back his dark bangs that fell into his eyes.

"Thank you, detective. I'm looking for a Captain Joel Taggart. I was told he had a desk up here," the officer replied, looking relieved that someone could help him.

Taking a quick look in the direction of Taggart's desk, Ellison turned back to look over the man in front of him. While his gut didn't indicate that the officer was any danger, it wouldn't have been the first time someone dressed up in a police uniform, got into the building and did some damage. Danko looked to be young, maybe in his early twenties if he was lucky, and he wore a wedding ring on his left hand that looked very new. He also appeared to be nervous under the scrutiny of Ellison's gaze. But that wasn't unusual for anyone in that situation and the fact that the detective towered over him.

"The Captain's desk is over there. I'll take you over," Jim offered. At the nervous officer's nod and genuine smile, Jim relaxed slightly and led the way across the room. "How do you know Taggart?"

"Actually, I don't, sir. You see, I just got married a week ago and my wife and I are trying to get away for our honeymoon. We had actually planned on getting married next year when Lisa found out that she was pregnant. So, if we want to take a honeymoon, we have to do it now. However, we're booked to travel on this cruise ship next year and--"

"The holidays are the hardest time to get reservations unless you plan about a year in advance. I know." Reaching Taggart's empty desk, the two men stopped. "Joel's probably just stepped away for a minute. Go on."

Looking down at the paper again, Danko took a deep breath and continued, his demeanor a little more relaxed. "Well, I put an announcement on the bulletin board two days ago in the hopes that someone might want to trade or know of someone that does. I went to the board today and this guy was there writing on it." Danko held out the piece of paper.

Taking the slip, Jim read the precise lettering. ~Go see Capt. Joel Taggart, Major Crime Division. He is looking for someone to trade with.~ "Did this guy look a little strange to you?" he asked.

"Strange? How? He didn't look like he was crazy or dangerous."

"Was he shorter than me with longish red hair and a rough looking goatee?"

Danko's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yes, sir. He also looked like he'd seen better days. Don't tell me he's one of those jerks who likes to pull dirty tricks on people, giving them false info to get their hopes up only to see them crash back down."

Jim smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He's someone that seems to be working hard at making sure several people have a happy holiday. Joel." Seeing him coming back into the room, he flagged the Captain over. "I have someone here who just might be able to solve that little problem you're having at home."

"Jon Danko, sir," the young man spoke up, sticking out his right hand. "My friends call me JD."

Chuckling to himself, Ellison left the two men to solve their problems together.

At the Loft, Late Afternoon

The lights on the Christmas tree sitting in the corner blinked randomly, offering a little Christmas cheer in the loft. The tree had been Jim's idea, something traditional to decorate the place, while Blair wanted the chore of decorating it to ensure that it was sentinel safe. He put lights on it that didn't blink in any pattern that could cause Jim to have a zone-out if he looked at it for any length of time. Blair also made sure that there weren't any overpowering scents from it or the candles he regularly burned that could send Jim into any fits of sneezing.

Despite the holiday ambience the tree brought to the loft, the atmosphere was anything but that. Blair worked in the kitchen, keeping himself busy with one of the few things he could do when his mind was in turmoil. It had been two days since he'd received the telegram concerning his mother, Naomi. Yes, she was a free spirit who came and went as she desired, but she had promised to visit this year at Christmas. And Naomi had never broken a promise to her son.

Casting several long looks over toward the telephone, Blair tried to will it to ring. Finally, in frustration, he stalked over to the device and picked it up. His fingers hovered over the buttons as he warred with his consciousness. It had been long enough, so why hadn't the Red Cross called him? Maybe because they haven't found anything yet. Had he considered that? He had been stonewalled by the Chinese Embassy, maybe they were having problems, too. With a small groan, he firmly placed the receiver back down and went back to dinner preparations. The sound of keys in the door lock took his attention to that direction.

"Hey, Jim," Blair called to his roommate, returning to the food in front of him.

"I was wondering where you disappeared to this afternoon, Chief." Dropping his keys into the basket on the table by the door, Ellison started to divest himself of his outer clothing. "My first thought was that you were out Christmas shopping or something until I remembered how you bragged about finishing it after Thanksgiving."

"Sorry. I told Simon that I wanted to go check with the homeless shelters to see if Gabe had showed up at one of them. The weather has been a little too nasty to live in a cardboard box in some alley." Wiping his hands onto a nearby towel, Sandburg opened the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. Walking out of the kitchen area, he handed one to Ellison, then continued on toward the balcony windows. Light flakes of snow drifted past the windows.

"No luck, I take it."

"Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. It's like the man has found one of the best hiding places to stay this time. I've got a drawing of him floating around in case he does show up at one of the food lines. He did eat the last time he was here, so I figured he's not quite... you know." Blair waved his free hand toward the ceiling.

"Smart thinking. I'm not all that comfortable with the idea that he might be--"

"A ghost, or maybe an actual angel."

Jim gave a snort. "Well, if he is an angel, he's performed a couple more miracles."

"Oh? What happened this time? Did he point out a little old lady needing help with crossing the street?"

"Nothing so heroic. Seems Daryl met this strange but familiar man at the airport who convinced him that spending time with those he loved was very important. He canceled his trip and will be spending Christmas with Simon."

"Wow. I guess Simon's dancing on the clouds right about now. What was the second one?"

Taking a long drink out of the bottle in his hand, Jim savored the burst of flavors he identified from the beer before finally speaking. "Remember that problem you said Joel had?"

"Yeah, major faux pas that torqued his wife off to the max and got him reservations at Chez Banks. Don't tell me Gabe fixed that problem, too?"

"Okay, I won't. But by now there is probably a very happy newlywed couple racing to pack their clothes for a trip and Joel is on his way home to beg for forgiveness and reclaim his rightful place."

"It's nice to see that some people will be having a happy holiday."

Ellison fiddled with the label on his bottle, easily hearing the pain and disappointment in his friend's voice. He decided to change the subject. "I hope you're ready for a large crowd tomorrow night."

"Something told me that, so I've decided to get a jump on it tonight." Glancing over his shoulder, Blair pointed back toward the kitchen.

Looking in that direction and taking a sniff, Jim could easily identify the odors of onions, celery, toasted bread and spices he knew were used in Swedish meatballs. With a nod, he brought his attention back to the windows and his partner. "How are you doing?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm okay," Blair lied.

Jim placed a comforting hand on the smaller man's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sure she's okay, Blair. I would almost bet that she's on her way back now and just forgot to let anyone know her plans. Naomi has this ability to show up at the most inopportune times. You know that."

Blair chuckled, remembering how his mother appeared while they were working on the car theft ring, then again when she called him during a shoot out. "Yeah, you're right."

"Of course I am, Chief."

"So who else has--" A knock interrupted Blair's question. Looking up at his larger friend, who gave him a shrug of his shoulders, Blair walked over and answered the knock. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Steven Ellison standing there. While he looked as dapper as any other corporate executive, Blair could see that there was something definitely bothering the man.

"Hi, Blair. Is my brother--"

"Steve?"

With a nod to Blair as he entered, the younger Ellison strode quickly over to his brother. "Jim, what is going on with Dad? I called his office to see if I could at least get a telephone number of where he was staying, but they wouldn't even tell me where he was going. What is he doing that is so secretive?"

Jim's jaw muscle twitched as he worked to withhold the anger he felt. "It's nothing you should worry about. Our father has decided that we don't need to know where he is going so that we won't worry about him."

"Why would we worry? About what? What aren't you telling me?" Blue eyes stared into blue eyes, the younger set conveying the need for assurances by the older.

"I only found out yesterday and I couldn't find you, Steve. He didn't want me to tell you that he's going out of town to see some specialist about a possible medical condition. He said that he didn't want to spoil the holiday for us." Sarcasm dripped from Jim's voice.

His mouth dropping open in shock, Steven looked over at Blair, whose face was a study in stoicism, then back at his brother. Wiping a hand over his face, he looked around the loft until he located the couch and sat down. "That bastard," he whispered.

"I'm with you on that," Jim answered and sat down beside his younger sibling. "But I'm not going to let him get to me. If he doesn't think we need to know what is happening with him, then he can just handle it on his own. You're more than welcome to come over tomorrow night and spend the evening with us." Glancing over his shoulder, Jim saw his roommate give him a nod to approve of his offer.

"You don't have to... I, I don't want to intrude if you two have something planned." Steven twisted around to where he thought Blair was standing.

At the lost look on the younger Ellison's face, Blair stepped forward and into the conversation. "Hey, man. Family is never an intrusion, especially at this time of the year. You know that you are always welcome and you can bring a guest, if she's not busy."

At the sincerity he heard in Blair's voice and the look of hope in Jim's face, Steven gave them both a tremulous smile and nodded. "I'd be happy to come. Thanks."

December 24, Major Crime Bullpen, Early Afternoon

A wild shout split the air, stopping all activity from the scattered desk about the room. Henri Brown had leapt up from his chair and was performing some type of dance around his desk. As Rafe started to walk past, he grabbed the dapper detective, pulled him forward and gave him a noisy kiss on the forehead before letting go.

"Geez, H!" Rafe complained, stepping out of the other detective's range and wiping his hand across his forehead. "Warn a guy before you start going strange."

Brown released a loud, boisterous laugh as he collapsed down into his chair. "L.T., there is a God in heaven and he has chosen this time to smile upon me."

"What happened, Henri? Did you win the lottery or something?" Blair called over from his desk. Jim had turned around and was also watching the proceedings.

"Ah, much better than that, Hairboy. Much better." Brown leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck.

"Well? Don't keep us hanging here, man."

"You know all that moisture we've had coming down around here this week?" Getting nods from his audience, he continued. "In the mountains, it has been a heavy snow and the passes were closed down yesterday."

A look of annoyance crossed Rafe's face over the obvious delay from the other. "It's been snowing in the mountains. Big deal, H. That's what happens in the winter. What does that have to do with you acting like an idiot?"

Brown leaned forward and gave a big sigh, the expression on his face changing to one of disappointment. "That phone call I just had was from Lori. She just received a call from her father telling her that they won't be able to make it for Christmas. They were stopped and turned back on the other side. Gee."

Realizing what the information meant, Sandburg started to chuckle. Rafe joined in quickly, which caused Brown to dissolve into a fit of giggles. Ellison just smiled, shook his head and turned his attention back to the work on his desk.

"What horrible luck, man," Blair struggled to say with sincerity.

"Yeah, H. I know you were looking so forward to his visit," Rafe chimed in, forcing a solemn expression onto his face. "What's he going to do now?"

Wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes, Brown finally calmed down. "He's still coming, but will be a few days late. The passes aren't expected to be opened back up until near New Years."

"Of course, Lori is going to be devastated."

"And probably needs something to divert her attention from this 'horrible' situation. Why don't you come over to our place tonight, H?" Blair asked. "Rafe and David agreed to come and, if she still can't get out, Megan intends to be there. It can be a Major Crime Christmas party."

Brown looked carefully at Sandburg before asking, "You making anything that requires it to sit under your sink for a few days to 'age'?"

"No, but if you're really wanting me to make some of that for you..." Blair started, his eyes opened wide in innocence and honesty.

Henri waved his hands in front of himself. "No, no. Don't go to any trouble on my account, man. I'll check with Lori and see if she wants to come. We can bring some of the stuff she was making for the clan tonight."

Blair laughed at the expression on the black detective's face. He loved teasing the others concerning the variety of foods he learned to cook on his many expeditions. "You both are welcome and we're going to start the party around 6 pm."

"Speaking of which, Chief, you might want to take off now. You said that you needed to stop and pick up some more bottled water at the store," Jim reminded his partner. "Better get on the move before it closes."

"Oh, right! I almost forgot. You'll take care of those files I got there, Jim?" Blair pointed at the two folders on his desk as he rushed past to grab his coat.

"Yes, go. I'll make sure they get back down to records. Now move it, Rookie," Jim growled in a mocking way.

Turning around backwards, Blair performed a salaaming on his way out. "Yes, oh senior detective. I hear and obey." When he reached the doors, he started laughing as a paper wad was flung in his direction. Then he gave his partner a mock salute and left.

"Smart ass kids," Ellison muttered under his breath, but a smile hovered on his lips. Rolling his chair over to the desk next to his, Blair's desk, Jim was reaching for the subject files when he picked up the sound of someone running toward the bullpen. Concerned, Jim stood up, turned around and rested a hand onto his weapon behind his back until he saw who burst through the doors.

"L.T!" David Rafe ran into the room and straight toward his brother's desk waving a piece of paper over his head. "Guess what?"

Leaping forward, Rafe grabbed his brother's arms to stop him and walk him quickly over to his desk. "David, slow down. You can't just run through the building without someone thinking something is very wrong."

David had the good graces to drop his head and blush lightly in embarrassment. "Sorry, L.T. I was just so excited that I couldn't wait to give you the good news."

"That's okay, kid," Brown spoke up, hoping to stop the scolding he knew Rafe was going to give his brother. "What's got you so excited? You win the lottery or something?"

Looking at the detective, a wide smile reappeared on the young man's face. "Better, Detective Brown. I -- read this to my brother, please. I don't think I can even see straight right now." With a flourish, David presented the letter to Henri.

"Okay, let's see here. ~ahem~ Dear Mr. Dawson. Oh, this sounds serious, kid. When they start calling you mister..."

"H.," Rafe admonished.

Brown just smiled and turned back to the paper. "Okay, sorry. I couldn't resist. Dear Mr. Dawson. At the request of Professor Harold Blake, an audit was performed on the computer system handling the final grades for the freshman students of the Fall 2000 semester. It has been learned that there was an error in the posting of your final Grade Point Average in which two numbers were transposed. You true final GPA for the Fall 2000 semester is 2.54 and therefore sufficient for you to remain a student at Rainier University for the next semester. We apologize for this problem... yada, yada, yada. Does that mean what I think it means, kid?"

"Yes! My scholarship is still good and I can register for the next semester next week." Joyously, David leaped forward and into the open arms of his older brother.

"I knew the score had to be wrong, David," Rafe voiced proudly into his brother's ear as he tightened his arms around the younger man's vibrating body. When the two men separated, Rafe maintained a hold onto David's arms and locked eyes with him. "I also know you are smarter than what those scores show. We're going to work on that next semester. Right?" He gave the younger man a little shake for emphasis.

"You better believe it, L.T. I promise," David replied with sincerity.

Megan Connor's voice interrupted the little gathering. She had been listening from her desk, but moved toward the men when what was being read caught her attention. "What was the name of that Professor, Henri?"

When Brown handed over the letter, he watched several emotions flash across the Australian Inspector's face as she read it. "Something wrong, Connor?" he asked.

"They have to have the name wrong," she replied, rereading the letter several times.

"Why?"

Looking up into the faces of the three men in front of her, she explained, "Professor Harold Blake is the same person we know as Gabe. Remember? He was actually declared dead several years ago, but showed up here during the Johnny Mercado situation."

"Oh, yeah," H. murmured, rubbing his head. He had a vivid memory of being attacked from behind when he was trying to release the young man from his holding cell after an explosion in the building.

"Then this could be just a hoax?" David's voice quivered slightly.

Seeing the fear in the younger man's eyes, Megan gave him a smile of assurance. "No, I think the university did find the error and corrected it. But the person who requested the audit couldn't have been Professor Blake."

"Are you sure, Connor?" Ellison asked, entering into the conversation. He had been listening to all that had transpired and couldn't stay silent. "There have been several sightings of Professor Blake or Gabe or whatever name he is going by this time around Cascade. From what has been happening, it doesn't surprise me a bit to hear about this."

"No longer the skeptic, Jimbo?"

"Let's just say that the evidence is starting to outweigh what I believe. Sometimes, there are things that you just have to accept."

Megan opened her mouth to argue some more when the telephone on her desk rang sharply. Racing back over, she quickly picked up the receiver. Worried about the anxiety on the woman's face, Jim listened in on the conversation.

"Inspector Connor."

"Megs? Where are you, girl? I've been waiting for an hour for you."

"Da? Is that you? Where are you?" Surprise exploded across Connor's face.

"I'm at the airport. Didn't you get my telly, girl? I sent it a few days ago after I won the tickets in the contest."

"What telegram? What are you taking about, Da?"

~laughter~ "Are you going to come and pick me up or should I just work on catching the next flight back?"

"Don't you move, old man," Megan threatened, pulling her coat from the back of her chair. "I will be there before you can finish your next beer."

"Just make it here in one piece, my girl. These bloody Americans drive on the wrong side of the road and I traveled too far to spend our time together sitting with you in a hospital. Love you, gal."

Tears threatened to flow from Megan's eyes. "I'll be careful. Love you, Da." Hanging up the receiver, she looked up into a pair of glowing blue eyes.

Ellison gave Connor a knowing smile and winked. He had no way to prove it, but it was just possible that another miracle had occurred. Connor smiled back, grabbed up her purse and ran out of the bullpen.

At the Loft, Late Afternoon

The soft scent of French vanilla floated gently around the loft, emanating from the candles burning in several places throughout. Playing at a very low level were the soft tones of an American wood flute accompanied by a guitar. If one were to listen to the tune, they would recognize that it was a traditional Christmas song.

Blair sat on the floor in the middle of the loft, his legs in the lotus position and his arms resting comfortably on top of his knees. If anyone were to observe him, they would think that he was deep in meditation and that nothing would be able to disturb him. They would be wrong. Blair's mind refused to conform to the path he was trying to send it and a myriad of thoughts continued to bombard him.

Three days and still no word. Some Christmas this is. Stop it! Negative thoughts breed negative attitudes. I just need to relax and let it all go... I wonder if I shouldn't search around for Gabe. Maybe he can do another one of those miracles... Relax. I just need to relax and breathe. In with the positive feelings... out with the negative ones... This isn't working.

Blowing out a blast of air, Blair slumped down and leaned back against the couch behind him, rubbing his hands over his face. After arriving home and checking on all the preparations for the evening, he called the Red Cross office to see if there had been any information concerning his mother. No one picked up the phone and he really hadn't expected anyone to be there in the first place. It was Christmas Eve and everyone from that office was probably home with their families.

So, he'd been trying for over an hour to clear his mind and calm the nervous energy that threatened to overwhelm him, but it wasn't working. Finally, in frustration, he jumped up, grabbed his coat and walked out onto the balcony hoping the fresh air would help.

It was almost dark, the setting sun providing a brilliant show of colors on the few remaining clouds off coast. Already, a few stars appeared overhead to herald in the night. Throwing his coat over his shoulders, Blair wandered out to the edge of the balcony and leaned against the wall. For once, he was unconcerned about the height from the street to where he stood.

Time passed and the sun set completely, cloaking the area in a soft darkness. The only light around came from the candlelight streaming from the living room. The street sounds seemed to fade into the night and a calming peace seemed to flow over Blair. Turning around, he slowly sank to the ground, leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed and drew his knees up so that he could wrap his arms lightly around them. He didn't look up when he felt the presence of someone walk up in front of him. He thought it was his roommate.

He was wrong.

"Why such sadness on a night of such joy?"

Looking up quickly, Blair saw the shadow of the man he knew as Gabe outlined by the soft lights coming from the loft. Only the glow surrounding the man seemed to be brighter and allowed his face to be slightly illuminated. "My mom is missing, Gabe. How can I feel joy if I don't know where she is or even if she's safe?"

"Is it not said that all you need to do is ask and you shall receive?" The man took a step closer.

Blair searched the face of the man standing in front of him. "From what I've seen and heard, you've helped out many of my friends. Is there anyway that you can help me, Gabe? At least let me know she is safe?" Blair pleaded, his voice soft and shaking. A lone tear fell from an eye and slowly traveled down his face.

Kneeling down, Gabe reached forward and, after carefully wiping the tear from Blair's face, cupped his hands over his head. "You are more deserving than any of the others for a miracle," came the soft, cryptic reply. "All you had to do was ask."

Closing his eyes, Blair relaxed under the hands that held his head. They were warm and gentle and, for no reason he could understand, made him feel safe. He heard the man speaking softly in the tongue he'd used back in the station, but didn't know when it stopped or when the hands lifted.

"Chief? Are you okay?"

Jerking back to awareness, Blair opened his eyes to see Jim's face hovering in front of him. His expression was one of concern. Looking around, he could see that his friend was kneeling in front of him with a hand resting on his knee.

"Where did he go?" Blair asked, sitting up and swinging his head around to check out the whole area.

"Who, Blair?" Moving back, Ellison held forth his hand and helped his friend stand up.

"Gabe was here, Jim. He was there, right in front of me, and I was talking to him. Right where you were kneeling. Didn't you see him?" Taking a few steps around the balcony, Blair could see that he and Jim were the only two there.

"No one was here when I got home, Chief. I saw you sitting out here and got worried." Picking up the coat that had fallen off Blair's shoulders when he stood, Jim carefully wrapped it comfortably around the smaller man's shoulders. "What did you talk about?"

Blair gave a snort and slumped slightly under his friend's hands, his eyes downcast in sorrow. "I asked him if he could help me find my mom. Stupid, huh? Thinking the man could do miracles."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Chief." Turning around, Ellison stepped to his friend's side and pointed him toward the balcony doors.

"Hello, sweetie," came the soft voice of Naomi Sandburg.

Gasping the word 'mom', Blair's eyes opened wide to the sight of his mother standing in the doorway to the living room. After taking a stumbling step in shock, he quickly ran forward and engulfed the petite redhead in his arms, his head buried into her neck. Tears flowed freely from both mother and son.

"I'm all right, sweetie. I'm right here," Naomi murmured softly into her son's collar as she rocked him gently.

Taking a mighty sniff to clear his sinuses, Blair leaned back to look Naomi in the face. He blushed lightly when she gave him a gentle smile and wiped the tears from his face. "What happened to you? Why didn't you let me know where you were?" he asked.

"It was bad karma all the way around, baby," Naomi answered with a twinkling laugh and walked both of them back into the living room. Jim followed close behind, closing the doors after him and picking his friend's coat up off the ground once again. "First, we had the most horrible guide you could ever consider and he had no idea where we were going. Then, the radio we had with our group would never work and it seemed that everywhere we stopped the telephones didn't work. When we got to places that did have working phones, I tried to call you every chance I had, but I always got either a busy signal or just couldn't get a connection. Finally, I gave up trying and decided to just get here as fast as I could. I'm sorry I caused you to worry, Blair."

"I found her on the doorstep when I got home, Chief. You know how I am with stray kittens," Jim teased and was rewarded with a light slap on his arm from Naomi as he walked past toward the kitchen.

"When the cab dropped me off, I saw your car and knew you were home. By the way, very nice year for a car, dear." Blair chuckled as he led his mother to the couch and sat down with her. "Anyway, I had been trying to get your attention when Jim came up the stairs and let me in. What happened to the key you used to keep over the door?"

Blair looked over at his partner and saw the man grimace at the memory of the person who'd once found the key and left a very nasty surprise in the middle of the living room. "I've learned that it is not very safe to do that, Naomi. You never know who might find it and let themselves in with intentions of robbing you." Changing the subject, Blair stood up, keeping hold of the woman's hand. "You want some tea, Naomi? I've got this great blend that is good for soothing nerves and I could use about a gallon right about now."

At his mother's nod, Blair slowly released her hand and walked into the kitchen. When he reached the counter near the sink, he placed his hands onto the edge and dropped his head. As quietly as possible, he took slow, deep breaths and carefully released them.

"You doing okay, Sandburg?" Ellison asked, moving away from where he was working on preparing the vegetables for the party to his friend's side.

"Yeah, man. I'm fine. Just trying not to fall to pieces. I don't know whether to laugh hysterically or start bawling." Blair tried to make his voice sound light, but Jim could easily hear the emotion his friend was trying to control.

"I don't think your mom would mind if you did either."

"What about you, man? You won't think bad of me for allowing my emotions to take control?"

"Oh, I might consider you a self-centered goober." The smile of Ellison's face belied his words.

Blair smiled back, becoming calmer with the familiar chatter. "I think I can accept that."

"Good. Then get you butt in gear, Goober. We've a party to set up for tonight."