Wearing a well-cut suit, his mind focused on his upcoming testimony, Brown walked through the metal detector set up in the foyer of the District Court Building. As he reached for the personal effects he had deposited in the tray -watch, badge, keys, sidearm and backup weapons - a pleasing tenor voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, Brown! Wait up!"

Henri looked up as he finished tightening his watch. Rico Virelli was on his way across the foyer.

"Hey, Virelli."

Virelli was a member of the SWAT team. Married to a nurse in the ER at Mercy General, he had been off-duty and visiting his wife when a teen-aged "patient" on a drug-induced high had taken the ER staff and patients hostage at gun point, killing the unit secretary as she attempted to alert security. Brown had been in one of the cubicles waiting for stitches to be placed in his palm after a freak fall on the stairs at the Precinct. Blair, waiting with him in order to give him a ride back to the station, had called in the situation while Virelli and Brown had overpowered the kid. The three of them had been called as witnesses. Henri had offered Blair a ride down to the Court House,but Blair had decided to drive down by himself.

Virelli divested himself of any items containing metal, dropped them onto the tray, and walked through the archway of the metal detector before Brown was quite done replacing all of his belongings. He stepped up beside Brown and began retrieving his own items.

"So, where's Sandburg?" Virelli asked as he went through the "redressing" ritual.

"On his way probably. I offered him a ride, but he needed to talk to Simon."

"Oh. So, you ready for this? Great suit, by the way."

"Thanks, man. Yeah, I'm ready. No problem. This case is just open and shut, man, open and shut."

The two men finished their task and walked side by side down the corridor to the court room.

"Yeah. With our testimony and the ER staff's they ought to be able to put this kid away. Just a question of degree."

"Yeah."

"So, how do you think Sandburg will hold up?"

"Fine. Why?"

"Well, I just thought, you know, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Well, you know. That press conference and all. The whole fraud thing."

"No, I don't know."

"Oh, come on Henri! You're up there in Major Crime. You were right there when the whole thing with Zoeller and Ellison went down. I was him, I'd be scared stiff to get on the stand."

"Look, man. That stuff doesn't have squat to do with this case. There's no reason for anyone to bring up anything to do with Zoeller. And the University? Man, that is *way* out there."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but if I were Sandburg, I'd be worrying about it. You know as well as I do that somewhere along the line some scumbag defense lawyer is going to raise the issue of his credibility. Especially if it's true he's going to be Ellison's partner?"

"It's true. He *will* be Ellison's partner."

"There'll be other cases he'll be involved in going to court. Cases where his testimony will be vital. Where that scumbag defense lawyer just has to mention that Sandburg is a grade 'A' fraud to lose the jury and the case. I'd hate to see a perp get off just because Sandburg played fast and loose in the Ivory Tower."

Brown and Virelli had arrived at the door of the courtroom. Virelli reached out to touch Brown on the shoulder, halting him before he could open the door .

"Brown, what's going on up there? In Major Crime?"

Brown turned his head to look at Virelli.

"I didn't know anything *was* going on up there."

"Brown, don't play dumb. We've known each other how long? Believe me, the rumors going around the precinct are wild. No one knows what to think."

"Listen, Rico, I don't know what..."

"Henri, listen! A lot of us want to do the decent thing. We just don't know what that is. A lot of us - hell, we've never understood how a 30 day ride-along could last four *years*. How an observer could get to be regarded as a senior detective's "partner". But you know - Ellison's solve rate is spectacular. That's what counts, right? So we've...let it go.

Then this thing with Ellison. Super senses? That's comic book stuff. But again, who cares? He gets results. That stuff with Zoeller? Not Sandburg's fault. It was the media people. We've all been there, had that done to us. But Ellison cut Sandburg loose, like he believed all the hype. He didn't deny anything. Then Sandburg admits to fraud, that the whole "senses" thing was a big lie, and Ellison takes him back. Banks offers Sandburg a detective's shield and a job as Ellison's "permanent" partner. What are we supposed to think. Especially now, with Ellison gone off again?

And Henri? Some of us *don't* care about doing the "decent thing". Some of us *haven't* wondered what's going on. Some of us just think Sandburg can't be trusted, doesn't belong, and wouldn't care if something happened to him."

Brown looked  at Virelli; eye to eye, searchingly, questioningly.Virelli just looked back.

"Rico, I don't known what to tell you. I'm not privy to Simon's decisions. Or Ellison's, or Sandburg's. I just know I'm going to treat Blair the same way I always have until and unless he gives me reason not to."

Virelli removed his hand from Brown's shoulder.

"Okay, Henri. I understand. That's good enough for me. Just...just bear in mind it won't be enough for everybody. Don't be surprised. And be careful.Some people extend their feelings to the whole of Major Crime. Not all of us,but enough to worry about until this all settles down, and I figure that will be a while. It might be sooner if Ellison would get back here. Now come on. We need to find a seat."

Virelli pushed the door open for his friend, grinning.

Brown returned the grin, but it didn't reach his eyes.
 

Tuesday, June 8th

    Well, today didn't go as badly as I was afraid it would. Somehow I forgot
about having to be in Court to testify in the Ames murder case. If Henri
hadn't called to offer me a ride, I wouldn't have remembered on my own. I mean,
I have a lot going on right now, but I *knew* this was coming up; just went
over my testimony with the DA, even.

    Granted, my testimony wasn't as important as Brown's and Virelli's, but still..

    Anyway, I just had to answer a few questions about calling in the incident,
what I'd seen from the cubicle, where I was seated, that sort of thing. Gotta
tell ya, though, I've been really worried about the fraud issue. Thank the
powers that be, no one brought it up. Not a mention. All that worry for nothing.

    Well, not for nothing. I mean, let's be honest here. It's already had some
pretty serious repercussions and the ripples are just going to get wider. For
instance, *nobody* is going to  allow me to handle money after all those
"fraudulent"  grant applications. (Thank you for the information, Gina of
Martin's Job Placement Service). My publishing career, at least in
Anthropology, is shot to hell; and teaching, which I could have done just
about anywhere with the Master's, is a "no go" as well, at least in this area,
and this area is what counts, right? I mean, this is where Jim is and that's
where I want to be. Even if Jim doesn't want me here.

    I've got to face up to that possibility. Jim may not want me around any more.
Simon doesn't agree. He thinks Jim just needs some down time away from *all*of us,
but I think I know better.

    He can't look at me, talk to me, or even, lately, live with me.

    I've read about responses like this. You know. I got him off the hook with the
dissertation and the media and he's grateful; but gratitude can easily turn to
resentment, especially in this type of case. Pretty soon he'll realize what
it's going to mean. Having me around all the time. I'm a discredited academic.
Spectacularly so, and he'll end up being guilty as well by association.

    At the hospital? When he told me I was the best detective he knew? I knew it
wasn't true. I mean, be *real*. If it was true he would have listened to me a
lot more. I know I've got some good instincts, but "the best"? No way. And the
badge? I don't think he realized what it really means, either. I've been his
backup all this time. Second banana. The support team. With that badge I'm his
equal. Theoretically there'll be times I could tell *him* to call for backup.
No more stay in the truck. In the eyes of the department I'd be just like any
one else. I'd have my own cases, the works. No more protecting Sandburg. I'd
be expected to be right out there with everyone else, my own little handgun
blazing away in a team effort.

    God, I don't want to go there.

    Anyway, I figure all this has finally come crashing down on him.  Reality has
hit and he's realized he's stuck with me. In his home. On his job. In his face all the time.

    I know I don't have anything to offer him any more. It's been more than a year
since I really had any help to give him beyond refining his senses. The one time he *asked*
for help, in Sierra Verde, I had to tell him I had no answer.

    "Guides" and "backup natives", Brackett and Burton to the contrary, evidently
can outlive their usefulness. And "shaman"? I'd say Incacha completely missed
the boat on that one when he "passed on the way of the shaman" to me. Jim's
the one with the visions, "far-seeing" and contacts with ghosts. When he needs
help with those things who shows up? Who has the answers? Not me. Incacha has
to come back from the dead to help Jim.

    I'd say it's becoming more and more evident where I stand in this relationship
and just what I contribute. I don't like what I see.

    Well, forget that. I'm going to tell Simon I 'll do this "undercover"
investigation for him. It will mean living at the academy, but that will give
Jim back his home for a while. Who knows, maybe I'll find a place of my own
when I get back.

    Hah! If you could "snort" on paper, I think I would. Talk about self-indulgent!
I've just reread this entry. While what I've said is true, my reactions are *way* out there.

    I think I'd better go to bed. Maybe I won't dream tonight.
 

I don't think I am ever gong to understand my mother. She's been so one
dimensional for too long. In my memory she's a stick figure labeled "Mother".
Her description? "Didn't want me, went away".

Even now, having read her diaries, I don't understand her. I don't believe she
ever understood what love is. That you have to giveit in order to receive it.

She calls her father an "old man", and writes about how hard it was to grow up
with someone who "doesn't understand" her. Would that have been true if her
mother had lived? Or even Anthony? Somehow I think so.

She seemed so set on having her own way. A horse, a "run-about". A certain
dress. Particular perfumes. Vacations in faraway places. Nothing kept her
attention or interest away from herself for long.

I suspect she had enhanced senses, at least to some degree. There's no
evidence in her diaries that she was a Sentinel. Grandfather might have been.
If so, Anthony was most certainly his "guide". There doesn't appear to have
been anyone to fill that niche for my mother. And my mother ? She seems to
have suffered from migraines and allergies and what today would probably be
called Attention Deficit Syndrome, but no where does she document anything I
would call "sentinel". Maybe if Blair read this he could find something. He's
the expert on this stuff, after all.

I wonder if she would have listened to Blair?

What happened between my mother and my father? Did they ever love each other?
I can't tell. Mother was obviously attracted to father, but she never mentions
his "character". Whether he was "kind" or "patient" or "trustworthy". Of
course, she never mentions the opposite, either; just where he took her, what
they did, who they knew.

She wasn't happy to be pregnant. There aren't too many entries while she's
carrying me. The ones she does make give detailed descriptions of
migraines,nausea and allergic reactions  to medications meant to help her. She
kept saying she wanted to come up here...., but father, understandably,
wouldn't let her.

Look at it from his point of view. His young wife, chronically ill, well into
her first pregnancy, wants to go camping in the wilds, far from any medical
help. He must have been afraid for her, but I can't help but think she
instinctively knew she could find peace up here.

Things got worse with my birth, and then Stephen's. Father seems to have grown
angry. Maybe he thought she was rejecting him, and he felt powerless to stop
her? She admits to growing angry herself. She writes that he withdrew from her
and rejected her.

I wonder if fear responses are hereditary? Blair would probably say they were
learned.

Without any trust between them, they began to live separate lives after
Stephen's birth.

Interesting, though. She gave up her social life - causing some arguments -
and began coming up here, a lot. Even after father refused to allow her to
take us with her, she continued to come up here, leaving us with a nanny or
the housekeeper. Was this the only place she could find peace?

She doesn't say much about what lead to the separation and the divorce. All
she seems to care about is finding peace and quiet. She never mentions any
regret about what she was leaving behind.

There's not much to be learned from father's albums. I *am* surprised, though,
at the number of pictures he has of our family. Pictures of mother. Her
parents. None of his family. I wonder why? There are pictures taken of the two
of them during their courtship, their wedding and their honeymoon. They don't
look like a couple in love. They don't even look "together".

There are a lot of pictures of Stephen and me as babies, toddlers, school
kids. I don't remember father taking these pictures. Where did he get them? I
certainly don't remember seeing him at any of these functions. Did he have
someone running around taking them the way Robin William's character did in
"Hook"?

That's odd. I never wanted to watch that movie, but Blair insisted - he loves
Robin Williams - and with the cable out I really didn't have any excuse to
avoid it. All this time, though, it's the son with whom I identified.

Do I really know my father...at all? What made him act the way he did?

Maybe I'm beginning to.

One thing's for sure. Grandfather was right. They really were "ill-matched".

How much different would things have been if father had been more like
Anthony? Or if mother had been less willful and focused on "her" needs and
"injuries"?

Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot.

I wonder how Blair is tonight?