The Sentinel and all related characters are the property of Pet 
Fly Productions and UPN. No copyright infringement is 
intended, no profit is being made.

This story is the property of the author.
________

Changes



It was strange to see the loft looking like this.

Not bad or depressing or even upsetting - just strange. It was, 
Carolyn admitted to herself, a little disconcerting to see her 
former home looking so different.

And her former husband.

Jim was in the kitchen, cheerfully chopping away at some sort 
of vegetable - Carolyn couldn't recognize it and she didn't 
think Jim could either. She began to wonder if agreeing to 
dinner on a night when Sandburg was cooking was such a 
good idea. Jim had made a few comments about the cuisine 
that had come dangerously close to turning Carolyn's stomach 
and she was desperately trying to keep the word 'tongue' out of 
her mind.

But for all his teasing, Jim didn't seem too worried, nor did 
Simon and Daryl. In fact, the teenager seemed completely 
taken with whatever it was that the young anthropologist was 
preparing; maybe he was just taken with the anthropologist. 
Carolyn grinned at Simon who was making a valiant effort at 
seeming horrified by his son's choice of role model and failing 
miserably. Sandburg was the only one who seemed to be 
falling for Simon's act, and even he didn't seem too affected by 
it.

Sandburg was the reason for the changes. To both the loft and 
Jim. At the very least he was a big part of it. The ceremonial 
masks on the wall, the notebook computer on the coffee table 
and the Anthropology texts that filled half the bookshelf were 
not the sort of thing Jim would put there himself. Even more so 
than the last time she'd been there - God, had it really been 
more than a year? - the differences struck her.

Gone were the soft drapes she'd hung in the window. Those 
were in her new apartment now, but they had looked better 
here. The carpeting she'd picked out was gone, as was the 
painting she'd hung on the far wall. The crystal and china 
figurines she'd loved so much and which adorned the mantle of 
her new home, were replaced here by some sort of wooden 
ceremonial statue. The furniture was basically the same but the 
quilt thrown over the back of the couch was entirely Jim's. The 
color pattern was him through and through. She sighed for a 
moment and allowed herself a moment's contemplation on how 
much he'd changed the bedroom. <Don't go there, Carolyn.> 
That had been the one part of their relationship that never gave 
them any trouble.

The changes in Jim were less evident, less easy to pick out and 
identify. No simple once over would reveal the fact that he 
smiled more than she remembered, that he laughed at jokes that 
once he would have ignored. No quick glance showed the dry 
tone and teasing glance he used to deliver yet another subtle 
quip or the fond exasperation in his glare when Sandburg 
started another of his stories or lectures. No passerby would 
know that over the last two years his arrest record had gone up 
and his disciplines down. And no one who didn't know would 
notice the gentle way he would tousle his friend's hair or swat 
at his arm when once he would have refused to let someone 
like that into his life at all.

Only someone who looked hard enough would see that a hard, 
cold, lonely cop had disappeared and in his place was this 
smiling man surrounded by friends.

Carolyn smiled, a little sadly. It hurt to know that the two years 
she'd spent dating and married to this man hadn't been enough 
to change him like this, that all her time and love and effort 
hadn't succeeded in changing Jim. That the divorce had 
probably destroyed what little progress she'd made. It hurt her 
ego a bit to know that a 25 year old grad student had 
accomplished what she'd set out to do, with a lot less effort 
and grief.

But changing Jim had been her mistake. She hadn't married Jim 
as he was, she'd married who he could be. The man he was now 
was the man she'd been hoping for those years ago. And when 
she couldn't make  him change fast enough, she'd given up. 
Sandburg hadn't tried to change Jim. It had just happened. 

Carolyn's musings were interrupted by Daryl's sputtered 
laughter. Jim and Simon were wearing identical expressions of 
distaste while Daryl was looking at Sandburg with a look of 
awed fascination. "That is so cool!"

"Yeah," Simon muttered. "Cool."

Jim wrested the spoon out of Sandburg's hand. "I'll finish 
cooking," he said firmly. "And next time, chief, leave the 
historical significance of dinner until after we eat, hmmm? I 
really didn't need to know what they use instead of beef in 
Borneo, okay?"

Carolyn giggled, sobering instantly at the look Simon shot her. 
"You like him, admit it," she whispered. Simon managed to 
look horrified and shook his head adamantly. She ignored him 
and sauntered into the kitchen, helping herself to another soda 
from the refrigerator. Jim and Sandburg were still arguing over 
dinner; as she watched the younger man pretended to retreat. 
"All right, you can cook," he said innocently. "While you do 
that I'll just tell you about the time I was studying a South 
American tribe." Daryl stifled his laughter quickly and 
regarded Sandburg with interest. Carolyn had a feeling she 
knew where this was going. "It's really pretty fascinating how 
many different meals you can make from a monkey-"

"You win," Jim interrupted. "Cook and keep your mouth shut."

Daryl grumbled in disappointment, but Sandburg just plucked 
the spoon out of Jim's hand and resumed cooking. "Lesson 
number one in dealing with old folks, Daryl," he said 
conspiratorially. "The older they are, the weaker their stomachs 
are." He smiled at Carolyn innocently. "Except the ladies, of 
course. They stay cool much longer."

Carolyn burst out in giggles again as Jim grabbed him from 
behind and mock wrestled.

<Oh, Jimmy, I don't miss the old you at all.>

She skirted around the two of them and out of the kitchen. 
She'd have to go home soon, and it would be another year or 
more before she could come back. But knowing that when she 
did come back it  would be to a good friend, and not an ex-
husband, she didn't mind so much.

Things could have been different, but only if she and Jim had 
been different people. She smiled at him slightly as she raised 
the glass of soda to her lips. Nope. She didn't mind these 
changes at all. 
________


end