Subject: SXF: Songs You Know By Heart 1/2
By: JR  (jrr42@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer:   Jim, Blair, Simon, and everyone else you recognize
are owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions and are used without
permission.  Everybody else mentioned here is a figment of my
imagination.  More Than Words by Extreme also used without
permission.  This story is not intended to infringe upon any
copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.

I would like to thank Pumpkin, saraid, Heather, and Sue for beta
reading. It was their kind words that convinced me to post this. 
All errors are mine since they were probably corrected at some
point, but were accidentally overlooked as I made corrections. 
This story is dedicated to RT for showing me just how beautiful
and loving a platonic friendship can be.

// // Indicates song lyrics

Everything was set; all the boxes were taped, the car was loaded;
and in eight more hours, the loft would no longer be Blair
Sandburg's home.  The week of preparations had flown by and
now that everything was ready, the anthropologist was unsure of
what to do with himself.  Oh, he knew that he should go to sleep
so he would be rested for the long drive that lay ahead of him,
but Blair knew instinctively that sleep would be a long time in
coming tonight.  Each sight of his now empty room had only
increased his level of melancholy.

Blair crossed the living room and stood in front of the closed
glass doors leading to the balcony.  Fall had come early this year;
the cold night air already leaving white frost on the ground, and
forcing Blair to layer his clothing against the chill.  Sighing softly
to himself, he only hoped that the temperature in Virginia would
be more to his liking than Washington's had been.  Gods, but he
hated the cold.

As he looked out over the bay, Blair caught a glimpse of himself
in the glass.  The ghostly image was reflected by the halogen
floor lamp in the corner that he had dimmed when Jim went to
bed.  The detective was exhausted from a combination of the
going away party that had been thrown in the loft the night
before and a difficult bust earlier that afternoon.  A major drug
dealer had led Jim in a two mile run through downtown.  He had
returned home to find a farewell dinner of Blair's infamous chili
and a televised baseball game waiting for him.  Feeling generous,
Jim relaxed house rule 37, no food in the living room, so they
could watch the Mariners play as they ate.  

Sometime in the seventh inning  the older man had finally begun
to nod off on the couch. The Sentinel had been apologetic about
his exhaustion, wanting to spend as much time as possible with
his Guide before they were separated, but Blair had understood
and sent his roommate to bed three hours ago.  Even the radio
playing softly in the background had not been enough to disturb
his much needed sleep.

In deference to his Sentinel's enhanced hearing, Blair had
bypassed his normal alternative station in favor one that played a
softer, adult contemporary music.  A new song began, one that
Blair hadn't heard in awhile.  The melody brought back memories
as he recalled the first time the words had significance for him.

//Saying 'I love you' is not the words I want to hear from you,
It's not that I want to, not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words, is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say, that you love me
Cause I'd already know...//

************************
SIX MONTHS EARLIER

It was the big day.  It was official.  Blair Sandburg, Ph.D..  After
three years of intensively studying a real live Sentinel, Blair had
realized that it was time to wrap up his dissertation.  It had taken
three months to organize, write, double check, and proof.  In the
end, the information he had gathered had been more than enough
to submit and defend.  Best of all, he had never needed to reveal
Jim's identity.  

When Blair crossed the stage, it was to a hail of applause, shouts,
and air horns.  Although many of the administrators thought it
was in poor taste, anyone in the auditorium who knew Blair was
aware that he deserved the cheering send-up.  Especially after all
of the trials he had faced in the past three years.  

Naomi was there, in between trips to discover even more of the
world.  She was taken aback by the number of police officers
that had come out to congratulate her son.  She beamed with
pride as she spotted Blair in the line of multicolored robed
figures.

Most of the Major Crimes division had requested this day off,
leaving only a skeleton crew to keep the criminals of Cascade at
bay.  They were lead by Joel Taggert, one of the first people at
the station to accept Blair. Although he was not officially part of
the Major Crimes team, the Bomb Squadron Captain worked
closely with the unit.  At his command, they scurried to get the
air horns they had hidden in their jackets ready for Blair's big
moment.  

Surprisingly, there were a number of cops from different
departments here as well, people whose path's had crossed
Blair's. As was his nature, he had done his best to help whenever
and wherever he could.  Many of those he had aided had not
forgotten his assistance.  In the course of the time Blair had
spent as an observer, he had overcome most of the hostility he
had faced when he first began working with Jim.  Some of the
same officers that had three years ago told him to his face that he
didn't deserve to be Ellison's partner due to his appearance or his
lack of training now rose and applauded as his name was called.
 
The anthropologist had always been popular with his
undergraduate students.   Blair often used stories of his own
travels rather than relying on textbooks to keep his lectures
interesting.  He was friendly with his students; caring of their
welfare; and most importantly, he was a fair grader.  Often, his
classes were the first to be filled based on word of mouth alone. 
Many of his former students were graduating today, and they
added their own shouts and whistles to the roar as he began his
walk across the stage.

Blair glanced up to where his 'support' group sat.  Simon was
chomping on an unlit cigar, grinning broadly while he applauded. 
Next to the Captain his son, Darryl, put his fingers to his lips and
whistled shrilly.  With his free hand, the teenager waved wildly.  

A few seats down, Steven Ellison stood with his hands cupped
around his mouth to amplify the sounds of his shouts.  Nobody
had been more surprised than Blair when his roommate's brother
had appeared at his office a month after the racetrack fiasco. 
While relations had slowly been improving between the brother's,
Jim still maintained an icy emotional barrier that Steven had been
unsure how to overcome.  Unaware of his brother's Sentinel
abilities, the younger Ellison never understood why the
uptight/ex-ranger/cop would share his loft with the free
spirited/neo hippie/anthropologist.  In fact, he had been quite
jealous in the beginning of the relationship between the two, 
noting how Jim often treated Blair like a younger brother.  Biting
the bullet, Steven had gone to Blair to ask for help in reaching
Jim, and he had received it in abundance.  The younger man had
put his own insecurities and jealousies aside, going above and
beyond the call to help the brothers establish the friendship they
now shared.

It was the figure standing next to the Captain who held Blair's
attention.  Jim Ellison stood stoically watching his friend,
roommate and Guide crossing the stage.  Prepared for the
explosion of sounds that erupted, Jim had turned down his
hearing to prevent being overwhelmed.   He didn't want to
miss one of the most important events of his Guide's life.  The
Sentinel was calmly clapping his hands, but Blair could see that it
was nowhere near the pace of those that surrounded him. 
Raising his eyes, the younger man gasped as he saw the paternal
look of sheer pride that accompanied the wide smile on Jim's
face.  As pale blue met deep blue, Jim nodded his head, and Blair
instinctively understood the combination of joy, triumph, and
love that was directed at him.  It didn't take Sentinel sight to see
that Jim's eyes were misting over and he felt his own doing the
same.  The Chancellor smiled at the beaming, teary graduate as
he handed over the pseudo-diploma.

*********************
The rest of the afternoon had passed in a blur that Blair would
never be able to recall. The barrage of flashbulbs, handshakes,
and well-wishers merged together.  Later that night, Jim had
thrown an enormous party at the loft.  Toasts were given and
presents opened while the food and alcohol disappeared at an
alarming rate.  Every person he talked to made it a point to call
him *Doctor* Sandburg.

At some point in the evening, Detective Ray Brown had asked to
be introduced to Blair's current assistant, a stunning mocha
skinned beauty by the name of Karen.  The anthropologist had
obliged and after a few minutes excused himself to let the pair
dance to the slow song that was playing.  Blair recognized it
from one of Jim's CD's.

As he listened absent-mindedly to the lyrics, he spotted Jim in the
kitchen watching him closely.  The odd expression on his face
worried him.  As Blair made his way through the throngs of
people in his living room, he hoped that his partner wasn't in
some kind of zone out.  It had been months since the Sentinel
had the last one, but maybe the noise and the crowd were
overwhelming him.  Jim's eyes tracked his progress, and when
Blair reached him, he didn't acknowledge him.

"Jim, man, are you okay?" the younger man asked as he placed a
hand on the older man's broad shoulder.

Jim was silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts.  After a
moment's hesitation, the contemplative look melted into the same
look of pride he had been sporting most of the day. 
"Chief...Blair...I just wanted to tell you..." he paused, not quite
knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say.

After three years, Blair knew his Sentinel well enough to easily
understand what he was trying to tell him.  With a gentle smile,
he squeezed the shoulder he was gripping.  "It's okay, man.  I
know," he said simply.

Jim returned the grin. With an unusual rush of affection for the
smaller man, he grabbed Blair into a giant bear hug.  They held
on tightly for a second, before the embrace broke down into the
typical masculine back patting.

They pulled apart at the sound of Simon's voice.  "So *Dr.*
Sandburg, what are you planning to do with all your free time?"

*******************
PRESENT NIGHT

//What would you do, if my heart was torn in two//

He had always like the haunting nature of this song, but tonight it
only added to his depression.  Blair wrapped his arms around
himself as he recalled Simon's question.  Certainly he never
thought that he would be moving thousand of miles away from
the one place he had finally called home.

*********************
FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

After the euphoria of earning his doctorate had worn off, Blair
found himself in the same position as many recent graduates --
unemployed.  The anthropologist had been hoping to receive an
associate professor position at Rainier when Dr. Westin retired at
the end of the semester, but the good doctor had decided to hold
off for another year.  He had mentioned the expected vacancy to
Jim at graduation, but had never told him that it was no longer a
possibility.  Blair had hoped that something at a nearby college
would pan out, allowing him to stay where he was.  As the
weeks went by, the anthropologist did nothing to look for
positions outside of a hundred mile radius of Cascade.

Along with his observer work at the station, he was tutoring on
campus.  The pay was not even close to the miserly stipend he
had earned as a Teaching Assistant.  Jim had never charged him
rent, but Blair had contributed by buying most of the groceries
for the two of them.  Now he couldn't even afford to keep that
up.  Oh how well the Sentinel knew his Guide.  Jim had not been
ignorant of Blair's financial situation and had begun to buy
groceries while the younger man was out tutoring.  Although
Blair was aware of and grateful for Jim's actions, his pride
prevented him from saying anything on the subject.

It wasn't until the wedding of Ray Brown and Karen Linders that
Jim learned of Blair's impending lack of employment.  The 
detective had run into Blair's old department head at the
reception, who had asked where the recent graduate was
applying.  It had taken most of his military training to keep his
shock out of his expression, but somehow he had managed to
finish the enlightening conversation.  Jim had asked a great
number of questions about the best course of action for his
young friend and he had received a wealth of information about
university hiring practices.

*******************
After the reception, they had returned to the loft.  Blair had been
anxious to get out of his usher "monkey suit" and made a beeline
for his bedroom.  Jim had been waiting for him when emerged in
sweats, motioning his roommate to join him on the sofa.

"When were you going to tell me that you don't have a job lined
up for the fall, Chief?" he asked softly after the younger man sat
down.

Blair froze.   The Sentinel listened as his Guide's heart skipped a
beat, then proceeded to do the lambada.  "Jim, I was going to tell
you..." he drifted off.  The older man waited silently for him to
continue.  "I was hoping that something would come open at the
last minute, if not at Rainier, then maybe UW-Cascade, or
Cascade Community College. If nothing pans out, then I'll find
something to tide me over until the spring semester." The
younger man paused, puzzled.  "So, like how did you find out,
anyway?"

Finally, Jim spoke.  "I'm a detective, remember?"  His Guide
failed to find the humor in the comment, so he decided to play
this straight.  "I ran into Dr. Halstrom today.  Blair, why haven't
you looked outside of Cascade?  From what Dr. Halstrom told
me, you shouldn't have a hard time finding something.  You've
published a lot of articles in the past three years.  And your
Sentinel research is going to be published next month." 

Blair looked away sheepishly, something the detective didn't see
all that often.  The anthropologist had written several papers on
his work at the station.  Four of them had been published in
various professional anthropology and psychology journals.  That
coupled with his Sentinel research, field work, and teaching
abilities should have been enough to land him a decent offer.  
However, it did nothing to change the heart of the matter, his
desire to remain in Cascade.  Yet, he was embarrassed to admit
to Jim what his real problem was.  "Chief?" Jim asked, patiently.

The Sentinel watched his Guide squirm on the couch.  The
silence was oppressive as Blair struggled to put his feelings into
words without sounding stupid.  When he could no longer stand
it, he finally admitted the truth, but he still couldn't look Jim in
the eye.  "Look, Jim.  For the past three years, this has been my
home, man.  Do you realize that this is by far the longest I have
stayed *anywhere* in one place?  I like it here.  I like living
here," he gestured to indicate the loft.  "I...I like..." he left the
sentence incomplete, hesitant to say what he was really thinking.

"Go on, Chief," Jim encouraged.

"I like being your Guide." Blair finally raised his smoky eyes to
Jim's pale blues.  "I like having you as a best friend.  I don't want
to lose that," he finished quietly.

Jim reached forward to place a hand on the younger man's
shoulder.  Speaking softly, he said, "Blair, two years ago, you
passed up that chance to go to Borneo to help me.  Do you
remember what you said the night you turned it down?" He
waited for the nod of confirmation.  "You said that it was about
friendship.  I never told you how grateful I was that you stayed. 
I still didn't have control of my senses then, and if you had
gone...man, I don't even want to think about it.  But, Chief, think
about everything we've learned since then.  I haven't had a zone
out in almost a year."

The words hit Blair with the same impact as a slap to the face. 
He knew that Jim could hear his heartbeat pick up steam again as
panic set in.   Was this it, then?  'Thanks a lot, kid, but your
services are no longer required or wanted.'

Jim was not oblivious to the whipped puppy look on Blair's face. 
Damn, but he hated situations like this.  He was a man of action,
not words.  Words were his roommate's forte, not his, but he
couldn't afford to screw this up.  Seeking to reassure the younger
man, he spoke quickly as he brought up his free hand to Blair's
other shoulder. "Please don't get me wrong, you will always be
my Guide.  I think we both know that I can do a lot on my own
now, even though I will *always* be stronger with you at my
side. But God Blair, what kind of friend would I be if I let you
throw away your career?  Two years ago, you made a sacrifice to
make sure I had a future.  Now let me do the same for you."  

He stopped for a moment, observing Blair closely.  Sure enough,
the wounded look was gone, melting into one of uncertainty. 
"But," as the younger man began to speak, his voice cracked,
forcing him to clear his throat.

Not finished with his arguments, Jim took advantage of the pause
to continue.  "Do you realize that you are *the* single most
important person in my life, Chief?  No one, and I mean *no
one* has ever known me as well as you do.  Do you think that
distance is going to change that?  It doesn't matter whether
you're ten miles away or ten thousand, you are always going
to be the best friend that I have ever had." 

As the words hit home, Jim realized that he must have got them
right.  He watched as Blair's smoky blue eyes filled with tears
and couldn't stop himself from gathering his Guide into his arms. 
Neither one of them was aware of how long they stayed that
way, but it was long enough for Blair's silent tears to soak
through Jim's dress shirt.  The Sentinel gently rocked as he
rubbed his Guide's back, the actions soothing both of them.

Finally, Blair spoke from within the embrace, his shaky voice
muffled by the large chest in front of him.  "Jim, I..." he began
huskily, his emotions bared in the tone of his voice.

The older man interrupted him.  "I know, Blair," he said as he
squeezed the younger man in his arms tightly.

******************
PRESENT NIGHT

//More than words to show you feel 
That your love for me is real//

A sudden change in the glass reflection caught Blair's attention. 
Gods, the memory of that night never failed to bring a brilliant
smile to his face. That conversation was probably the most
important that he had ever had with anyone in his whole life.  It
had sustained him through the difficult months that had followed.

*****************
TWO MONTHS EARLIER

If he ever had to look at another resume, it would be too soon. 
Of the hundred or so of the damn things he had mailed out, he
had received 90 rejection letters, 10 first round interview
invitations, 3 second round, and 2 job offers.  Both of the
colleges interested in him were mid-sized, but one was in
Michigan and the other in Maine.  What was it with him and cold
climates?

While he was weighing his options, a strange occurrence
happened.  Steven Ellison called and invited him over to dinner
to meet an acquaintance. Curious, Blair accepted the invitation,
but Jim had been forced to decline due to a current investigation. 
He was shocked to discover that the mystery guest was Bernard
White, Chancellor of Eastern Virginia College.  A smaller school,
it was known for it's beautiful location, liberal policies, and for
the well rounded students it turned out.

Once the introductions had been accomplished and the awkward
'getting acclimated' pauses had begun to die down, Steven
stepped back from the conversation, only contributing when he
thought it was needed.  He had met the Bernard through his
work, the giant conglomerate that employed him donated to
many universities and colleges.  Although you couldn't tell by
looking at him, Chancellor White was in his late sixties.  A sport
nut, he had a wicked sense of humor, an endless supply of
energy, and a great love of teaching.  Steven couldn't help but
think of the man as an older version of Blair.

With so much in common, the pre-meal small talk was fast and
funny.  Over dinner the two men began discussing the US
educational system, pointing out strengths and weaknesses,
carefully debating the points they disagreed upon. As the meal
progressed, the topics became more opinionated and heated.
Steven worried that Blair would end up insulting Bernard with
his more controversial trains of thought.  

However, as a businessman, Steven was used to pussyfooting
around dangerous topics.  As open-minded educators, the two
Ph.D.'s reveled in the debate.  While Steven cleared the table,
they moved to the living room for an after dinner drink. Bernard
took advantage of the privacy to talk to Blair about why he was
here.

"I can't remember the last time I had such a wonderful
discussion.  That's the problem with being in charge, you tend to
get comfortable with so many people kissing your ass all the
time.  Look, Dr. Sandburg, I'll be honest here.  I wanted to meet
you because I have an offer for you."

The anthropologist sat back in his chair, his attention solely on
the man before him.  "What kind of offer?" he asked.

"After I met Steven, he told me a bit about you and about your
Sentinel research.  I hope you don't mind, but he managed to get
a copy of your dissertation and passed it along to me.  Although
it is a little out of my area of expertise, I found it fascinating."

Stunned beyond words, Blair managed to croak out a thank you.

Bernard continued.  "Our anthro department is mounting an
expedition to Indonesia in December, and we are going to be
short handed.  I would like you to fly out to Virginia next week
and meet the Department Chair, Lou Reisen.  Take a look at
what we have to offer.  I think that you would be the ideal
candidate for the open Associate Professor position."

"I don't know what to say.  I would love to." Although he was
flattered by the offer, Blair's happiness was offset by the distance
between Virginia and Cascade, or more importantly from Jim.

Steven had finished with the dishes and had joined the two men
in the living room.  He knew Blair well enough to realize that the
anthropologist had some doubts about the offer, otherwise they
would have been peeling him off the ceiling from his enthusiasm.
Time to play the trump card.

"Bernard, tell him the rest," Steven prompted as he sat down on
the couch.

"There's more?" Blair inquired.

The Chancellor stood, reaching in his pocket to fish out his
wallet.  "I want you to know that this is totally unrelated to the
Associate's position,"  Bernard stated. Unfolding the billfold, he
removed a picture and handed it to Blair.  He accepted it, gazing
at a plain dark haired young woman wearing an East Virginia
sweatshirt.  

"Her name is Sabra Lowstein.  She is a nineteen year old
freshman at EVC studying to be a forest ranger.  When Sabra
was thirteen, she got lost in the woods while camping with her
family.  She was missing for sixteen days.  When they found her,
she complained about hearing voices, the brightness of the
artificial lights, that sort of thing.  At first the doctors diagnosed
it as post traumatic stress syndrome.  But a few months later, she
began to have catatonic episodes.  Sabra went to dozens of
experts and none of them could agree on what was wrong with
her.  Epilepsy, schizophrenia, you name it."

It was easy for Blair to see where Bernard was headed with this. 
"And you think she might be a Sentinel?" he asked as he cocked
an eyebrow.

With an affirmative nod, he responded.  "I don't know, I'm not
the expert here, Dr. Sandburg.  When I read your dissertation,
the zone out thing just seemed to ring a little familiar to me. 
Anyway, I would really like for you to meet with her."

The statement peaked Blair's curiosity.  In his experience, most
Chancellors could barely remember the names of the people on
their own staff, let alone a freshman student.  "You know a lot
about this girl, Dr. White.  What is her connection to you?"

The older man was pleased with Blair's observational skills. 
"Very good, Dr. Sandburg.  Sabra is my granddaughter."  

Taking a deep breath, Blair spoke again, his euphoria at finding
another Sentinel candidate quite evident as he stood and began
moving restlessly through the room.  "Well, from what you tell
me, it does sound like a definite possibility.  I would have to
meet her, do a few tests, that kind of thing."  

Suddenly, he stopped pacing.  'But what if she isn't a Sentinel? 
There goes the job prospect.'

As if reading his thought, Bernard spoke again.  "As I said before
Dr. Sandburg, the two offers are not mutually exclusive.  Believe
it or not, I have very little say over the hiring process of staff.  It
is our policy to leave that up to the individual departments."  

'Yeah, right.' Blair thought to himself as Bernard stood to take
his leave.  The Chancellor handed his card to Blair.  "I have your
number from Steven, I'll have my secretary call you with the
arrangements."  With handshakes to both men, he departed.

Wanting to discuss the evening with Jim, Blair grabbed his own
coat.  It hit him suddenly that White must have read his complete
dissertation, not just the upcoming article in order to know about
zone outs.  There was only one source that Steven could have
used to get a copy of Blair's dissertation.  His eyes narrowed in
suspicion.  "You and Jim set this up, didn't you?" he asked.

The younger Ellison grinned guiltily.  "I told Jim that Bernard
was interested in seeing some of your work.  He gave me copies
of everything he could find."

At first the anthropologist was angry.  What, did Jim think he
wasn't capable of finding a job on his own?  Was he in that much
of a hurry to get him out of the loft?  Jesus, as if the Blessed
Protector bit wasn't oppressive enough with police work, now
the Sentinel was going to pull it in the world of academia as well.

Blair's ever expressive face betrayed his emotions to Steven. 
"Blair, don't be mad.  This is a great opportunity for you, and we
just wanted to help." 

It took a minute for the words to break though the anger he was
feeling.  Once again, Jim had been able to pull his butt out of a
difficult situation, albeit with a little help this time.  Blessed
Protector, indeed.

*********************
The next two weeks had flown by.  Blair had fallen in love with
the campus the minute he had arrived.  Settled in the hills of
Virginia, the landscape reminded him somewhat of the Pacific
Northwest.  He had met with Dr. Reisen and for several hours
they discussed his previous studies, his thesis, and anthropology
in general.  The job offer had come the following afternoon
before his meeting with Sabra.

Sabra Lowstein was a calm, quiet girl.  She spoke little and had a
difficult time relating to other people until she got to know them. 
The paradox was that her shyness tended to keep other people at
a distance, leaving her with very few close friends.  It was only
one of the things about her that reminded him of Jim.  

After several days of testing, Blair was able to determine that she
had four enhanced senses, her level of touch was normal.  Still,
even after six years of dealing with her abilities, it was difficult
for her to control sensory imputs.  Over time she had developed
natural defenses, some good, some bad.  Blair spent the
remainder of his week making living arrangements and helping
Sabra establish the mental dials that had worked so well for Jim.

Despite his elation at finding not only a job, but a new test
subject, a feeling of depression began to creep over him.  

*******************
Upon returning to Cascade, his first stop had been the precinct. 
Jim was out talking to one of his snitches, so the anthropologist
took the opportunity to talk to Simon without being overheard
by the Sentinel.  The Captain was thrilled for the younger man,
but at the same time felt saddened by the reality that he would, in
fact, no longer be a presence in Major Crimes.  Despite his lack
of formal police training, Blair had spent three years giving
genuine assistance on official cases.  Unprepared for the world
of police work, the younger man had endured the scorn from
other officers; he had seen the darkest side of human nature; and
had received so many injuries that the Captain winced at the
thought.  How ever it had started, he continued to do it because
of a devotion to Jim Ellison.  Three years ago, Simon would have
never been able to envision the kind of friendship the two now
shared.  He never would have guessed that the begrudging
respect he had felt for Blair would somehow turn into genuine
affection.  However, Simon did his best to cover the fact, aware
that if Blair knew that he actually cared, the anthropologist
would walk over him like a carpet.

"You've got to get him a partner, Simon.  Whoever it is will have
to be told about the Sentinel stuff and they'll have to learn how to
guide him,"  Blair insisted.

"I know, Sandburg.  I've got a short list of candidates, but in the
end, it will have to be Jim's decision."

"Come on, Simon.  That is like so not cool.  You know as well
as I do, if you leave this decision up to Jim, he's going to play it
out, man.  He'll delay and postpone and in the meantime keep
working by himself." 

"You aren't telling me anything I don't already know, Sandburg."

When broached with the subject, Jim did exactly what Blair had
predicted he would.  Blair and Simon conspired, plotted,
demanded, insisted, and finally begged, until the Sentinel finally
agreed to take Brian Rafe as his partner.  Rafe had been skeptical
at first of the other detective's enhanced senses, but quickly
found out why Jim and Blair had such a high conviction rate.
The three men worked together closely to be prepared for Blair's
departure.  Rafe studied Blair's dissertation, often requiring the
younger man to translate huge portions of anthropological
techno-speak into plain English. Sentinel and Guide repeated
hundreds of earlier tests in his presence so that Rafe could gain a
better understanding of Jim's abilities.  In a few weeks, all three
were somewhat more comfortable with the new situation.  

As the date for Blair's departure grew closer, the anthropologist
was not able to spend as much of his time helping Jim with his
cases.  It was just as well, it allowed the new partners to
acclimate themselves to each other within the confines of police
work.  It was also when Jim began experiencing zone outs again.  

******************
PRESENT NIGHT

//What would you say, if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new just by saying 'I love you'//

The weather was picking up outside.  Turning his glance away
from his own reflection, Blair watched gusts of wind churn the
gentle waves in the bay into small whitecaps.  The haunting
sounds of the two guitars finally brought his feeling of depression
to a head.  Blair could feel his throat tighten as tears began to
gather in his eyes.  Somewhat disgusted with himself, he
wondered why it had happened so much as of late.  'I've cried
more in the past six months than in the past three years.  Of
course I have, for three years, this was my *home*...' he thought
to himself.

******************
THREE WEEKS EARLIER

"Jesus, man?  What in the hell is up with you?  It's been over a
year!  I thought you were over this," Blair raged at the man in
the hospital bed.  Jim had zoned in the middle of a shoot out.  
Rafe had seen it happening and tackled the older man to the
ground.  The impact had given the Sentinel a mild concussion
requiring the requisite overnight stay in the hospital. 

Now Blair was here, upset that his departure might somehow
contribute to a more dangerous zone out in the future.  "Calm
down, Chief.  It was an accident, Rafe knew what was happening
and pulled me out of it." Jim said to reassure the hyperactive man
pacing beside his bed.

Smoky blue eyes grew darker with anger.  "Not soon enough,
man."

"Cut him some slack, Sandburg.  He's new to all of this.  I seem
to recall some pretty close calls when we first started working
together," Jim shot back.

With a heavy sigh, Blair conceded the point.  Suddenly he
chuckled softly.   "What is it with you and head injuries,
anyway?" 

Jim laughed along, glad for the change of subject.  Secretly, he
was afraid that Blair would discover that this had not been an
isolated incident.  Rafe had been pulling him out of small zone
outs all week.   

The random comment about his injuries was forgotten as Blair
looked at him sharply.  "What?" Jim asked.

"So what did you zone out on?" his Guide queried.

"Sound.  Uhm, I thought I heard another heartbeat on the roof,"
the Sentinel lied, praying that Blair wouldn't catch it.  In fact, Jim
had reflexively sought out Blair's heartbeat, forgetting
momentarily that his partner was now Rafe.  He had strained so
hard to hear the familiar sound, one always so close to him in
times of danger, that he had lost touch with everything else.  Jim
never felt the blow to his head as Rafe dragged him to the
ground, or his new partner calling him back to reality. 
Eventually, Rafe had pulled him out of it, but it had taken longer
because Jim was listening for Blair's voice.

The Sentinel gazed softly at his Guide.  Using his senses, Jim was
able to pick up the small shivers running through the younger
man's body.  "You okay, Chief?"

Blair drew a deep shaky breath to drive back the tears that
overwhelmed him.  It still terrified him that something would
happen to Jim, and he wouldn't be there to help him.  Blair
moved forward and placed a hand on Jim's arm.  "When Simon
called, he didn't have many details, and I...I'm just glad you're all
right.  You...I..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. 
Rather than try to speak, he wrapped his arms around Jim and
held on tight.  With the feeling of Jim's arms moving to return the
embrace, all of Blair's doubts and worries were chased away.

**********************
PRESENT NIGHT

He was still looking at the water when he was startled by two
hands coming to rest on his shoulders.  Blair knew without
uncertainty that it was his roommate, so he kept his gaze where it
was.   

//Now that I've tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes and just reach out your
hands//

As the soft words penetrated the silence, Jim's grasp reflexively
tightened.   The movement was reassuring to Blair, and suddenly
he felt six months of pent up tension wash away from his body.

//And touch me, hold me close don't ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cause I'd already know//

Finally, Blair lowered his eyes to the ghostly reflection in the 
glass.  The picture that greeted him brought a smile to his face.