The Sentinel and all related characters are the property of Pet 
Fly Productions, UPN and Paramount. If they were mine Inside 
Man never would have happened, Cassie would not exist and 
Megan would be teamed with Joel, leaving Jim with the partner 
he already has. But obviously, they aren't mine, in which case, 
no copyright infringement is intended.

Story's mine. Don't use without my permission So I'm a 
hypocrite. I don't care.

Notes:  After I posted Modern American Guide, someone said 
they'd like to see what happened next, after Jim and Simon 
showed up to find Blair. At the time, I didn't see it happening, 
but now it seems like a pretty good idea. 

Warning:  This is another one of those "It's three o'clock and I 
really ought to be in bed" things. Much more coherent than the 
last one, though.
________

All in a Day's Work for a Modern American Sentinel


Detective James Ellison sighed and rubbed at his forehead with 
one hand, a weary sigh escaping him before he can catch 
himself. He was tired, frustrated and worried. God, this hadn't 
been a good day.

He'd spent the morning angry from an argument with his 
roommate. Sometime over breakfast they'd managed to get 
into a shouting match. Jim couldn't remember what exactly had 
started the argument, but it really wasn't important. Two 
people just can't live in close contact without getting on each 
other's nerves, and he and Blair were practically inseparable. 
There would always be stupid, pointless arguments. What 
upset Jim was that this one had gotten out of hand. By the time 
he'd cooled down enough to realize he'd been acting like an 
idiot it was almost time for lunch. He'd tried to call Blair, 
extend an invitation to lunch as an apology, but Blair hadn't 
been in his office. Then a homicide had taken up the rest of his 
time. 

Then the hostage situation.

It had been called in just as Jim was going off duty. He'd taken 
it, despite being off duty, a bad feeling curling in his gut. The 
store that had been robbed was just off the Ranier campus, and 
was one Blair preferred because it carried a variety of tea 
brands that he might not be able to find elsewhere. A glance at 
the clock had confirmed that Blair would have just left for 
home when the robbery started. Jim had a sixth sense when it 
came to his best friend, he'd somehow just known that Blair 
was involved.

By the time he'd gotten to the store the armed robber had taken 
off - *with* a hostage, a fact that did nothing to help calm Jim. 
When witnesses described the hostage as a man in his mind 
twenties with long curly brown hair, suspicion became 
certainty, and Jim knew his Guide had managed to get himself 
into the middle of trouble again.

The patrol cars had lost the pursuit and returned with a license 
plate number, a description and confirmation that the hostage 
was still being held by the robber. What had followed was 
several long hours of worry and desperation as they tracked 
down the license plate number and started searching for the 
owner. Half of Major Crimes pulled a double shift; Brown, 
Rafe and Taggert remaining behind at the station to help the 
search for Blair.

As night fell though, their chances of the search providing 
good news fell dramatically. Jim knew that once the thief 
shook pursuit, a hostage would be of little use to him. In fact, 
Blair would only become a hindrance at that point. He had 
refused to think about it, throwing himself into the search, 
ignoring the voice in the back of his head that taunted him with 
the fear that he was already too late. He became increasingly 
aware that one of his friends was with him constantly. Keeping 
watch, in case the bad news came.

But when Simon's phone finally rang, it had brought only the 
best of news. Out at his desk, Jim had instantly been aware of 
his Guide's voice in the other end of the line, and by the time 
Simon had gotten two words out, he'd barged into the office. 
Everything after that was a blur, until he jumped out of the 
truck outside a dilapidated building in the worst part of town 
and saw his Guide standing outside. He'd felt the fear and 
frustration of the last several hours burn away - at least until he 
saw the blood covering Blair's wrists and hands. He'd strode 
toward his friend, only to stop in surprise when Blair marched 
past him to the truck, muttering something about idiotic 
kidnappers and slammed the door with almost brutal force. A 
bit stunned, all Jim had been able to do was stare for a minute. 
He'd caught Simon's eye, indicated he was taking Sandburg 
home, *yes* they'd fill out a statement tomorrow, then climbed 
behind the wheel of the truck and started toward the loft. 

It was several minutes later that Jim finally asked how his 
hands had been injured. Blair's terse reply had sent Jim into a 
U-turn for the nearest hospital. Blair's objections had been cut 
off with one curt "Take a minute and think about what might 
have been on that floor, Sandburg, and how much of it got into 
your skin." Blair hadn't said another word until they reached 
the hospital.

Now Jim sat in the waiting room, tired, and wanting nothing 
more than to take Blair and go home. There was a hot shower 
and a soft bed with his name on it and he really wanted to take 
advantage of both.

Blair's heartbeat, which he'd been monitoring, started moving 
closer and Jim stood, preparing to meet his partner.

The anthropologist followed a nurse into the waiting room. His 
long hair was loose, tangled from the activity of the day. Jim 
could see the dust and dirt that had gotten caught up in it while 
Blair lay bound on the floor of that condemned building, and 
knew that Blair would want the hot shower more than he did. 
Ah, well. He still had the soft bed waiting for him.

Blair gave him a tired smile as he walked to join him. The quiet 
anger that had seemed to fill Blair during the ride to the 
hospital was gone now, or at least majorly diminished, and Jim 
returned the smile with relief. Anger in Blair was so rare a 
thing, and it usually only surfaced during the worst moments. 
Jim hated every second he could see the harsh emotion in his 
Guide's eyes, and always yearned for the moment it would start 
to seep away.

A nurse waved from across the hall. "Goodnight, Detective. 
Bye, Blair!"

Blair leaned closer and murmured just loud enough for Jim to 
hear, "They know our names, man. Think that should tell us 
something?"

"Nah," Jim ruffled his friend's long curls, loving the familiar 
expression of dismay as Blair vainly tried to put the long 
strands back in place. "I seem to recall various friends of our 
telling us we're too thick-skulled to learn from our mistakes."

"No," Blair replied with infinite patience. "That's you."

That really didn't warrant a reply, and even if it did, Jim 
couldn't think of any objection to make. Wordlessly he 
wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulders and steered him 
toward the hospital entrance. Not until they stepped outside 
into the cool night air did he say, "You all right? What did the 
doctor say?"

A shrug, then, "No sign of infection. They cleaned it out pretty 
good, bandaged it. They're going to run some blood tests to 
make sure."

"Forensics will test the glass and stuff from the room you were 
held in," Jim assured him. "If there was anything dangerous 
we'll know soon."

Blair didn't seem too worried about it. He just nodded a bit. He 
was leaning against Jim now, the detective supporting him. Jim 
reaffirmed his grip on Blair's shoulder. The kid was going to 
crash soon, and crash hard.

Jim maneuvered his partner into the passenger seat and closed 
the door behind him, then crossed to the driver's side. It was 
with great satisfaction that he started the ignition and pulled 
out of the hospital parking lot.

He spared a glance at his partner. The younger man was 
sprawled in his seat, head back against the headrest. "I'm not 
going to carry you up to the loft, you know."

Blair mumbled something that might have been a retort, but 
opened his eyes. "This has been a crappy day, Jim."

"Yeah, buddy, I know." Jim felt the relief fade and the guilt 
start to return. "Listen, Chief, about this morning. I'm sorry I 
lost my temper like that. I had no right to take my bad move 
out on you."

There was no reply for a minute and Jim felt his heart sink. 
Blair *was* still angry. 

"Oh," Blair finally said. "*That.*" He shook his head. "Jeez, 
Jim, don't worry about it. It was-" A wide yawn interrupted. "-
It was both our faults. Stupid."

"Oh." Jim felt oddly relieved about that. He'd known that it 
wasn't a big deal, but he still didn't like the idea that he'd lashed 
out at his Guide for no real reason. The thought that Blair 
hadn't forgiven him had only made the last few hours that more 
unbearable. To have the last words he'd shared with his Guide 
be spoken in anger...

Blair was watching him, and seemed to sense what he was 
feeling. "Did you know about the mess at the store?" Jim 
nodded and Blair's eyes grew wide. "Ah, hell, Jim. That must 
have sucked. When did you find out?"

"The call came in just as I went off shift," Jim admitted 
reluctantly. "I responded - call it a hunch. Then, after the black 
and whites lost the trail I stayed at the station. Helped trace the 
license plate."

"He didn't hurt me," Blair told him softly. "You were listening 
in at the hospital, right?" Jim felt his face grow warm and saw 
the smile that spread across Jim's face. "Yeah, I thought you 
were. He knocked me out, tied me up. Tomorrow I won't even 
have a headache.

"You have one now?" Jim asked. "Didn't they give you some 
kind of pain-killer?"

"Tylenol, Jim. Like I really needed a trip to the hospital to 
know that much."

Jim chuckled. "You're going to take that Tylenol, Chief."

"I *hate* non-prescription medication, Jim," Blair explained 
patiently. "You know that. I don't even like prescription 
medication."

"You're taking the Tylenol, Chief," Jim repeated.

Obviously trying to decide if it was worth the argument, Blair 
regarded him, then shrugged. "Whatever. I get the shower 
first."

Even though he'd already decided just that, Jim put up an 
argument for the sake of it. "Don't bet on it, Junior. While 
you've been lying around all day, I've been working my butt off 
trying to find you!"

"Lying around!" Blair exclaimed. "I'll show you lying around! 
As if-"

Jim gave in to the laughter bubbling inside him. His Guide was 
back, safe, and healthy, and they were on their way home. 
God, this was perfect.


End