Disclaimer: Pet Fly's guys.Spoilers: (Most of the episodes)
Rating: PG-13
Three Cops and a Baby
#12 in The Sparrowhawk Sandburg Series
by
Besterette
Besterette@aol.com
James Ellison leaned back against the railing at the head of his bed and tugged the comforter straight, folding the sheet neatly over the top, and innocently enjoying the drag of the crisp cool cloth over his bare legs. He watched Beau Sandburg undress on the other side of the room. It wasn't a striptease, she wasn't facing him with laughing eyes and putting a little shimmy into the motions, she was just getting undressed.
Somehow that seemed more intimate to him. A private moment between them. She put her clothes away, then picked up the soft flannel nightgown folded on top of her suitcase. He watched her shoulders flex as she pulled it over her head, and felt and answering twitch from his own body.
He grinned lazily at her as she turned and came to bed, climbing under the covers and rearranging her pillows. He turned off the light and slid down beside her.
It was nice. He stretched out, cuddling her, enjoying himself. Being relaxed, comfortable, tired but not quite sleepy. Her body heat warming his bed. Three hearts beating in rhythm, Guide, Consort and Child all under one roof. Even if it was only for one night. Beau had to go to New York. Her publishing company had been sold, the new brass wanted to meet with their best-selling authors, planning to try to move upscale from the supermarket racks. Contract negotiation time. So Sparrowhawk Rainbow Sandburg, under her pseudonym Drusilla Beauventure, was heading to New York for two weeks.
Which meant Jim had to take care of their baby.
He grinned, listening to Jake stir in his crib downstairs. He'd originally planned to stay over at Beau's apartment, but they were painting in the building, and he couldn't take the fumes. He didn't think they were very good for Jake either, not with his senses still sporadically online. So they moved the baby stuff over to the loft.
He'd take a couple of vacation days, work a couple of half-shifts. Naomi, and Dad and Sally were still pitching in with babysitting. No big deal.
He hadn't expected this contented pride tonight. Maybe it was having everyone together, Blair in his room, Jake's crib downstairs, Beau in his arms. Clan and kin together. A throwback thing, people used to live in extended family groups. The Chopec still did. Going back and forth from Beau's apartment to the loft, he still woke up at night, searching for her heartbeat and the baby's... woke up at her place listening for Blair.
For tonight, all the sounds were there. He was content to be content. He lay there, listening to the loft grow still and quiet. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, storing up Beau's scent for the long lonely nights ahead. Beau-ness, and Bath And Body Works Juniper Breeze, her current favorite. The... buzz?... sparkle?... spice? he needed more adjectives, of pheromones underneath. Not as strong as those of that jewel thief, which reached into his libido and flipped all the switches. Beau's scent just made him aware that he was male. And very aware that she wasn't.
She squirmed restlessly and rolled onto her side. He spooned up behind her, tightly. Rubbed against her. She made a soft sound and inched away. He followed, tossing an arm around her waist to prevent her escape. Silky short brown hair tickled his nose and chin as he nuzzled her neck.
A hand reached back to swat at him. "Jim... get off."
He smiled against the nape of her neck. "I want to. C'mere."
"Jiiiiiiiiim..."
He nibbled gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder. "Jake's out like a light. And your brother's sound asleep. You know what a heavy sleeper he is." He pushed loose flannel aside to devour more of her skin with kisses. "And you're going to be gone for two weeks."
She shifted, and he gave her room to roll onto her back. Her eyes were wide and dark in the dim light, her mouth curved in amusement. "You'll miss me?"
"Yeah," he confessed, teasing. "I'm used to you now."
"I'm going to miss you too, handsome." She reached out to stroke his cheek. "I've gotten used to having you around myself."
"Two weeks," he repeated mournfully. "The longest we've been apart since Jake..."
Her hand was moving down his shoulder, over his bare chest. "Wasn't so long ago I was never home for more than two weeks at a time," she said, musingly.
Jim captured her hand to kiss the fingertips. "Do you miss traveling?" he asked with a twinge of apprehension. She used to write for a travel magazine before their baby was born. He remembered those dizzying months after they had begun seeing each other, Beau would stop in Cascade en route from somewhere to somewhere else, and they would meet at a hotel. Endless phonecalls that took the place of dating.
"Not really. I've wandered the world, and seen enough of it. I was never home for long, because it wasn't really a home, just a place to live. Cascade is my home now. My home is with my family, with you. Because I love you."
"So how about fooling around with the man you love? One more time before you go?" Make me some memories to keep me warm on the nights you aren't in my bed. Give you a reason to hurry home to me.
She kissed him in reply.
Coming out of his bedroom, Blair had an instant of sleepy disorientation, knowing only that something was different about the loft. Then he recognized the clutter of furniture and toys.
Jim was already in the kitchen, humming to himself as he dug through the fridge, then looked up and greeted him with an obnoxiously cheerful, "Good morning Chief," and a cat who ate the canary grin.
Or jaguar who ate the—don't even go there, man. "Morning," Blair muttered instead, glancing over toward the crib. Jake was awake, burbling happily to himself in the secret language of babies. Beau came out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a sweater, hair still slightly damp and towel-rumpled. She collected a glass of orange juice and a kiss from Jim in the kitchen, and sat down at the table.
"Good morning Blair," she chirped brightly.
Blair just grunted and moved into the kitchen. Jim had already set out the ingredients for his algae shake for him on the counter in front of the blender. He started mixing his shake while Jim scrambled eggs and Beau abandoned her juice to go check on Jake and get her suitcase down from Jim's room.
They shared a family breakfast, Jim and Beau not acting quite lovey-dovey enough to ruin his appetite. The conversation was more about whether Jim had enough diapers and if Beau had remembered to pack the baby pictures.
That brought a smile to Blair's face. "Say hello to Aunt Adele for me."
Beau winced. "I'm hoping one dinner there will satisfy Family Duty." Then she brightened. "It'll be good to see Nana again, though."
Blair grinned. "Yeah. I always liked the old dragon-lady." And then went to take his shower. When he was dressed and ready, everything was ready to go.
Jim had Jake in his high chair, and had taken Beau's luggage down to the truck. Beau bent to kiss her son's forehead, then turned and embraced Jim. "I miss you already, handsome."
Jim kissed her. "Hurry home."
She kissed him back. "Home is where my heart is."
Blair jingled Jim's keys as a reminder. The lovers parted reluctantly, and Beau headed for the door. Blair hesitated.
"You sure you want to do this? Mom wouldn't mind closing the store... or your dad would be thrilled with the extra grandpa time..."
Jim shrugged. "I've got it covered. One baby, one adult. How hard could it be?"
Somehow Blair managed not to burst into laughter. His sister let out a strangled snort. "Okay Jim. I'll see you tonight."
The two Sandburgs exited the loft. Beau glanced at her brother. They both had a great deal of experience with child care. Living in communes where the older kids helped to take care of the younger ones, babysitting for extra money, or just helping out whoever they were crashing with until Naomi saved up enough for an apartment or they moved on.
"Jim's changed diapers, fed Jake, helped with him, but he has no idea what he's gotten himself into, does he?" she asked.
Blair grinned at her. "Not a clue. Don't worry, sis. I won't let him get so tired that he diapers the wrong end."
"Oh, that's comforting." She rolled her eyes.
Blair shook his head. "Trust me. Jim will rise to the challenge. He's got a strong nurturing instinct underneath that gruff exterior. Or we'll let Naomi and Bill slug it out over who gets the extra babysitting."
Blair dropped his sister off at the airport, wished her a safe journey, reassured her again, and headed for the station.
He'd no sooner settled in at his desk and made a start on the backlog of paperwork when Captain Banks called him and Megan Connor into his office. Blair grinned at the tall Australian brunette as she gave him an inconspicuous pat on the butt as they passed through the doorway.
"You two are up for the mall robberies rotation. Rafe and Brown haven't had any luck," Banks announced without preamble.
"Not with the robberies, but Rafe's found some lovely things at the sales," Megan quipped, dimpling.
Blair rolled his eyes while the captain snorted. Sending the always exquisitely dressed detective undercover as a casual shopped in the malls of the greater Cascade area had led to the predictable result. Rafe had gotten a bit too involved in his cover.
"You're at the Black Oak Mall today. Remember, this guy's been hitting the anchor department stores, and the upscale boutiques, jewelry stores..."
Blair nodded. "Basically if we can't afford to shop there, check it out." Megan laughed and Blair continued, "A day at the mall. If I didn't know better, I'd think Jim arranged to be on personal leave."
Banks reached across his desk to touch a framed photograph of his son. "I remember when Darryl was that age. You put any money in the Mr. Mom pool?"
"A week," Blair said confidently. "He'll make it to the halfway point out of guilt and responsibility, then he'll be itching to get back to work."
Megan looked at the men. "You're not seriously betting on how long it will take Jim to fob off his child's care on someone else?" Blair opened his mouth to explain that it was all in good fun and Megan went on. "Who's running the pool? I'll put a tenner down on three days worth of dirty nappies."
Wide corridors and expensive shops. Marble and soft music. Fountains and benches and greenery. Blair winced as a particularly annoying song by a bubblegum pop boy band began yet again. On reflection, it was a good thing this robber was striking now. In a few months it would be the hundredth replay of 'Frosty The Snowman' setting his teeth on edge. He said as much to Megan.
"I'm surprised our quarry hasn't waited. More people in the malls, the registers full of holiday cash."
Blair shook his head. "More people in the malls. They get insanely crowded close to Christmas... make it harder for him to get away."
"So our perp's a careful plotter, to have assessed that risk."
"Could be." Blair stopped at one of the peddler's cart kiosks, this one selling Beanie Babies, and examined the variety of animals available in the popular line of collectible stuffed toys. He'd bought Velvet the black panther and Nanook the husky for his sister the day Jake was born, as an inside joke. Jim's spirit animal, and his—soft of. Still no wolves.
At an amused sound from Megan, they moved on. Although she stopped to peer into the display window of a toy store. "Perhaps I should do a bit of early shopping, if things do get that bad. The parcels that I'm sending home, at least."
"Browse, and you can plan what to get. We are supposed to be a couple spending an idle afternoon in conspicuous consumption, after all," Blair suggested, and then grinned impishly, pointing at the pink and white columns framing the entrance to Veronique's Attic. "In fact, let's go in there next."
Megan laughed, spoiling the effect of her cool glance and raised eyebrow. "What makes you think I want lingerie for Christmas?"
"No, Megan, you in that lingerie is what ~I~ want for Christmas!" he leered.
She leered right back. "In that case, you wander about on your own for a bit, my darling, or you won't have a surprise to unwrap."
"Promise?" He kissed her, and walked the circuit of this wing of the mall while she was in the shop. Nothing suspicious. No one lingering, obviously casing a joint as opposed to just browsing. No alarms, no tableaus of frozen customers at gunpoint glimpsed through an entrance. No progress on the case.
On his third meandering orbit he stopped at the Beanie Baby cart and bought Pouch the kangaroo, stuffing the bag into one of his coat pockets. It would make a cute gift for Megan. He knew she got a little homesick sometimes. He still had plenty of time to get her a nicer present. Maybe by Christmas he could afford something nicer. Though with the school loans and the ominous rattle the Volvo was making again, it couldn't be too nice.
They spent three more hours at the mall. Walking around. Browsing. Megan trying on a ruby necklace that cost more than the Volvo. Blair trying on a chocolate suede jacket that made him wonder how many of the things the store sold. Why buys suede in Cascade, Land Of The Perpetual Cold Drizzle? Lunch in the food court, a sumptuous banquet of delights involving deep fried bits of allegedly chicken. And around the mall again and again.
Blair was beginning to make a mental list of things he'd rather do then spend a day walking around a mall. Not even speculating on the contents of the pink and silver bag Megan had brought out of Veronique's Attic cheered him. The mall's chain bookstore didn't help much either. A limited selection, the latest bestsellers, or those most recently printed, coffee table books passing for a reference section. A woman with two kids in tow was buying one of his sister's travel article collections, Postcards From Atlantis, that brought a small smile to his face.
No progress on the case. No robberies... so either their perp had taken the day off, or he had hit one of the other local malls.
When they got back to Major Crimes, they learned it was the former. Which meant they'd be on mall-crawl duty, lending bodies to Robbery, indefinitely. Blair worked on the day's report stating that nothing had happened, in the tribal dialect of bureaucratese, and called it a night.
He froze for a moment, letting himself into the loft. He'd never seen the place in this condition. Toys everywhere. Dirty dishes covering the counter and half the table. Looking around, he found Jim seated on the floor in front of the couch. Jake was crawling contentedly on the rug. The older man had an exhausted, vaguely shell-shocked expression, and dried cereal in his close-cropped brown hair.
"Hi honey, I'm home," Blair carolled, grinning.
Jim glanced at him, acknowledging his presence for the first time. "Don't start, Sandburg," he said wearily. "Remind me I owe your sister some roses. No. Diamonds."
Blair just shook his head as he hung up his jacket and backpack. "Kept you hopping, huh?"
"I had no idea," Jim muttered, getting to his feet and lifting Jake.
Blair took pity on him. "Why don't you take five? I'll take care of dinner and start the cleanup."
"Thanks." Jim got his son settled in his playpen and collapsed on the couch. "Hey. I figured it out," Jim added wearily, in the tone of one about to reveal the secrets of the universe. "Why we're born with the heightened senses and then lose them until we're old enough to modify them." There was a long pause. "Diapers."
Blair chuckled. He returned the smaller toys to their bag, stacked the storybooks and CDs on the shelf, then washed the dishes while Jim dozed on the couch. He checked the fridge, pulled out the makings of a good supper, and woke Jim.
Jim alternated eating his own meal with spooning mush into Jake. More of it went onto the floor around the high chair than into his mouth. They talked while they ate, Blair describing the day's pointless stakeout and the fact that he and Megan would be roaming various malls for the foreseeable future.
After they ate, Jim awkwardly asked for help bathing Jake, not wanting to admit that he was afraid of zoning on something. Blair made him dance around asking for his help for a few minutes, then agreed, as long as he got first dibs on the rubber duck.
A few hours later, Blair woke with a start, and automatically reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand before recognizing the racket. He sat up, raked his fingers through his hair to brush sleep-tangled curls out of his face, pausing to reflect that that was one benefit of the shorter hairstyle he'd worn post-academy. Maybe growing it out again was a mistake. He fumbled into his bathrobe, and went out into the living room.
Jim had Jake in his arms, was walking him back and forth in front of the balcony, at that gentle bouncing trot parents used to quiet children, and making soft cooing noises.
"Jim?" Blair moved to turn on a light.
"You're up? Sorry about that, Chief. I can't get him back to sleep. Something's wrong, he's not hungry, he doesn't need a diaper..."
The noise level dwindled to a couple of hiccupy sobs, and then Jake showed off his imitation of an air raid siren.
Blair came over and took the baby. "He hasn't got a fever." A thought occurred to him. "Aw man! I should have guessed. He can't hear Beau's heartbeat, he can't find her. He wants his mommy."
"He's a baby, not a puppy."
"A baby sentinel." Blair handed him back, and crossed the loft, taking his backpack from the hook. "Put him back in his crib."
Jim did, hovering over the son and shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. "I know you're supposed to let him cry himself to sleep sometimes, but I can't sleep through that, not even with my earplugs..."
Blair unzipped the pocket of his backpack that held his Evil Sentinel Emergency Kit. He'd started carrying it after Alex Barnes escaped from prison. Not that they'd had any trouble from her, but it seemed like a good idea to hang onto it. Just in case.
Blair wondered about that sometimes. Jim had taken the news of the other sentinel's escape and subsequent disappearance rather lightly. He wasn't angry, or obsessing over the cold leads, or even vaguely worried.
Blair had a rather horrifying suspicion that Jim had dealt with Alex.
Maybe by having her collected by one of his old friends in the alphabet agencies... despite sanitizing his thesis prior to publication, he'd been half expecting another Brackett to show up. Maybe Jim had bought his freedom by giving them another labrat.
Or maybe Jim had dealt with Alex himself. Jim was an ex-Army Ranger who had worked covert ops as well as being a sentinel and a detective. The black-humor joke was something of a cliche, but Jim probably could kill someone and quietly dispose of the body.
Blair had searched his soul, on nights when the question kept him awake, and decided to try not to think about it. Whatever had happened to Alex Barnes, he didn't really want to know. She was just... gone. And that was fine with him.
Ignoring the whistle and the pepper spray, he picked up the teardrop shaped chandelier lustre on its loop of fishing line, and went back to the crib.
"He's never been away from Beau for more than a few hours," he explained, then checked his angle to the light and dangled the prism over Jake's head. Brown eyes widened, then glazed, and the weary hysterical shrieks stopped in mid-bellow.
"Sandburg!" Jim yelped in outrage as he realized what was happening, that Blair had deliberately zoned out the baby.
Blair tucked the crystal into his bathrobe pocket and reached into the crib to gently rub the tiny body. "Shh! Look, zoneouts have a biological purpose, they keep you from overloading and blowing a circuit. I'm bringing him right back out of it. It can't be any worse for him than a pacifier," Blair whispered, gently stroking a cheek with his thumb, then drew his hand away as eyelids fluttered and sank heavily.
The two men shared a triumphant grin, then tiptoed back to their respective beds.
Adrian Deacon ducked as a high-heel bounced off the hotel room door next to his head, and raised an eyebrow. Beau Sandburg had her skirt rucked up around her waist and was doing a bizarre awkward wriggling hop-dance as she peeled off her hosiery. Rather like a boa constrictor's current meal trying to escape.
"I'm glad to see your sojourn in the hinterlands hasn't robbed you of your ladylike demeanor."
She gave him a Bronx cheer of triumph as she got her left foot loose, and flopped backward across the foot of the bed.
"Half an hour with the fashion designers, a pair of pliers, sandpaper, a gallon of lemon juice and a couple railroad spikes. Is that too much to ask?" she sighed plaintively, wriggling toes that had been forced into an unnatural shape for too long. "But I think it went well, didn't it?"
"Swimmingly, darling. They love you, they love your books, they love all the lovely money flowing into their coffers earned by the sweat of your brow, typing your poor little fingers to the bone... and tomorrow we shall take a crowbar and prise out a bigger share. After all, you have mouths to feed."
Beau rolled over onto her side and looked longingly at the phone.
"It's too late to call Cascade," he reminded her sympathetically.
She sighed. "How'd you know?"
A slightly wistful smile crossed her agent's handsome features. "I've a little experience myself now, in a long distance relationship with an Ellison."
Beau sat up. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you and Steven," she said quietly.
He waved a hand. "Neither of us turned out to be Mr. Right. It happens. I'm just glad you and Jim did work out. The man is good for you. True love has had a definite beneficial effect on your writing," he snorted. "If not on your production."
She grinned hugely. "I get... distracted."
"Mmhmmm. Well, you just tell your distraction to take a cold shower when you're on deadline."
"I do. I think I'm getting bored with the romance novels. Maybe I need to switch genres. With two cops in the family, I could take a shot at mystery novels. Or maybe go back to historical romance instead of contemporary," she sighed.
"If all goes well with this first separation, perhaps a little assignment for Global Village Magazine?" Adrian suggested.
"I don't know. Maybe." She shrugged, a pang going through her at the thought. All she wanted to do was get this done and get home to Jim and Jake. The thought of leaving them again was... unappetizing, to say the least.
"My god, woman, you are besotted with the man, aren't you?" Adrian chuckled.
She smiled, not denying it. "I love Jim. I love our son. I didn't expect it, but I love being a mother. And I miss them both so much it hurts to breathe."
Sounds slowly penetrated his sleeping mind, rousing him to full wakefulness. Jim sat up on the edge of his bed, and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, then made his way downstairs. He glanced at the empty crib, then at the younger man busy at the changing table tucked against the back door. "Sorry," he called, and moved into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
"No problem," Blair called back. "I'm down here, I'm up, and I've done more diapers than you have. Babysitting. And Larry." He came out and deposited the freshly Pampered Jake into his high chair. "At least Jake doesn't have a prehensile tail."
Jim opened the fridge. "Nope. He takes after my side of the family."
Blair grinned at him. "Oook. Oook." And went to take his shower.
Jim fixed breakfast, when Blair came out he ran into the bathroom and pulled on some old sweats and a white tee-shirt, after a quick shower. He and Blair had breakfast, talking shop while he spooned cereal into Jake. Jake tried to help, reaching for the spoon, or grabbing handfuls of cereal and piling it up on the tray of his chair. When the bowl was empty, Jim just scooped it up with the spoon.
Sandburg left for the station, and Jim watched the door close with a twinge of envy. He wondered if there was anything new on the mall robberies case, something about that was nagging at him...
He firmly quashed that thought, and took Jake back over to the changing table to get cleaned up. All traces of the cereal's stickiness removed, he dressed Jake, dropped him back into his crib for a few minutes while he cleaned up the kitchen, and then settled himself on the couch with his son and a thick red and gold covered book.
He ran a loving hand over the worn binding before opening it, remembering his father's shy smile as he showed Jim the box of things he had saved, and asking if he wanted any of them for Jake. He had picked out this book. One of the few good childhood memories were of Saturday nights. Usually the only night of the week Dad had been home before the boys' bedtime, and he used to read to them.
Jake was maybe a little too young for stories, but Jim loved it. The warm weight of him, the smell of baby powder, knowing that he was spending time with his son. He figured if Jake got nothing else out of it, according to the experts, being held and hearing his father's voice was good for him.
Jim opened the book at random and found 'The Princess And The Pea.' Since Blair wasn't there to hear and laugh at him, he changed it into a story about a young guide looking for a sentinel.
By the time he got to the end, the sun had come out. A quick check of the Weather Channel suggested it was going to be a nice day. They didn't get too many of them in Cascade this time of year, so Jim decided they'd go out and enjoy it.
Changing into something a little more suitable than his house-clothes, Jim got Jake tucked into the baby stroller-carriage-contraption, making sure he was warm enough, and gathering everything he needed to leave the loft. He was just planning to go down to the little park at the end of the block, but he was enough of a boy scout to plan for every possibility. So he took his cellphone, and the diaper bag, and packed a snack and a bag of the more portable toys.
As he awkwardly maneuvered everything into the elevator, he was kicking himself for not helping Beau more than he did. He'd been feeling fairly smug about his parenting skills just for stopping by her place to play with Jake for a few minutes when the tyke was already half asleep and ready for bedtime. This was the real stuff. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He felt a stab of guilt, knowing that her writing suffered when she was too busy or too exhausted to work, that she had stopped traveling to stay in Cascade with him. Because of Jake, whose birth hadn't exactly been planned.
He wondered if he and Beau would still be seeing each other if he hadn't accidentally gotten her pregnant. Somehow he didn't think so. She'd been living in Boston, rearranging her travel schedule to pass by Cascade just to see him, eventually they would have drifted apart.
He grinned down at Jake as he kicked his feet under the blanket. He'd learned a few things from the collapse of his marriage to Carolyn... this was one relationship he intended to keep. Making the effort to communicate, that kind of thing, he was just glad Beau was pretty low maintenance about that cliched girl-stuff. He made a mental note to make sure she knew he appreciated her when she got back.
Spending more time taking care of Jake himself, when he could. Maybe get the bare necessities for the loft and Jake could spend the weekend, giving her some time to herself. And get someone to babysit for one night and romance her, let her know he thought of her as more than just the mother of his child and a convenient bed partner.
Plans settled, he faced the brief struggle of getting the bulky wheeled contraption out through the door, and out onto the sidewalk. It was a mild day, as promised. There wasn't much foottraffic on Prospect Avenue midmorning. He kept a wary eye on passing cars, some of the drivers staring back at him.
"Think they'd never seen a guy push a baby carriage before," he muttered.
They made it to the park and Jim staked out a sunny park bench as his own, spreading out the little quilt with apliqued ducks and umbrellas that Naomi had made on the grassy patch just before him, and set Jake down. Jake burbled happily at the world at large, crawling the limits of the cloth boundaries only to be scooped up from any unauthorized further explorations. Jim gave him one of the noisemaking toys that got on his nerves in enclosed spaces. At least out here the squawks, chirps, buzzing and rattles wouldn't echo.
Lots of noisy play and accompanying shrieks of delight. Tufts of grass were uprooted by tiny fists and thrown. A bottle was emptied, and four crackers chewed into paste, then carefully spat out and ground into the quilt. A squirrel's progress from the foot of a distant tree to the uppermost branches was watched with rapt fascination, until it disappeared from view. From Jake's view. Jim could still see teh squirrel, but Jake's attention seemed to wander, and the brown eyes were no darker, the pupils not enlarged.
Jim felt a little pang go through him. The infant sentinel was learning to surpress his abilities. It was a natural protection from painful stimulus... the senses would return when Jake was old enough to control them. Jim still wasn't sure how he felt about passing the heightened senses on.
He had to admit they had their uses, in his chosen careers in the military and as a police officer. And their pleasures. Nuances of taste in fine wines or meals, of smell, walking through the park in springtime and every breath held a thousand perfumes, of touch when he was in bed with Beau...
But heightened senses could be a curse as well as a gift, and bring you greater pain as well.
At least Jake would grow up knowing what he was. That for him it was normal, allowed. Jim thought of his father's undefined fear that there was something wrong with him. And the small agonies and terror in the weeks after his senses had returned full strength after Peru. Before Blair found him and taught him what he was and how to control it. Jake would be spared all that.
"Time to go, kiddo," Jim announced, after glancing at his watch, and packed things up. Instead of heading back to the loft, Jim went up another block to the corner store. He bought milk, eggs, and bread, just the basics, reminding himself that he really needed to do a kitchen inventory and make out a shopping list. The lady at the counter gushed over Jake while he paid.
Back at the loft, Jim changed Jake and cleaned up. After all the excitement, Jake was ready for a nap. Jim sorted a load of laundry and ran it down to the basement to throw into the washer, keeping an ear on the sleeping child. After that, he went through the cabinets and the fridge and the freezer, making lists of what they needed in canned goods, meat and vegetables, planning meals for the next few days. He set out the ingredients for a tuna fish casserole for tonight's menu.
He checked the mail on one of his trips to the laundry room. LL Bean catalog, bills, Golf Digest, and a mysterious fat manilla envelope for Blair postmarked from Sierra Verde. He frowned at it, but carefully set it aside and went back to matching white socks.
The phone rang and he answered it. "Ellison."
"Sandburg. The other one. Miss me?"
"Beau," he sighed, sitting down on the couch. "Aw, honey, I miss you something fierce."
"I miss you too." She chuckled. "So how's life as a househusband?"
"I've got it covered," he said smugly. "It's a lot of work, but kinda fun. Except for the diapers. I don't know what you've been feeding the poor kid."
She laughed again. "Stewed apricots. He loves 'em, but cut out the stewed apricots and that'll help."
"So how are the negotiations going?"
"Pretty well, I think. I went in and met everybody, and now Adrian argues with them for a while. Then we sign the contract. At least, that's what happened last time. What are you wearing?"
The question caught him off-guard. He leaned back on the couch, grinning. "Ooh. Is this going to be that kind of phone call?"
She snorted. "No! Unless you want to," she sighed. "I just miss you so much I can almost see you... sitting on the couch facing the television, and you're wearing the brown corduroys and that oatmeal-colored sweater..." Jim glanced down at his gray Dockers and red canvas shirt and smiled. "... and you smell like bay rum and I could taste the coffee you've been drinking in your kiss."
Jim wet his lips, thinking of her kiss. "And you're wearing faded jeans and that vee neck pink velour shirt. And you smell like lavender." He closed his eyes. "And if we don't stop now, this is going to turn into that kind of phone call.
"Yeah. I hate this."
"You'll be home soon." His mouth twitched. "How's the East coast branch of the family?"
"I haven't seen them yet. Aunt Adele talked at me on the phone."
Knowing Adele Sandburg, the phrasing was correct. "Same old, same old?"
"Yeah. I keep telling her it isn't your fault... that we seduced each other and Jake just sort of happened..." she sighed. "Aunt Adele lives in her own version of reality. No one's ever been able to change her mind about anything."
"Just keep thinking about coming home. We'll have to do something special to celebrate, when you get home."
"Mmm. Something special?" she purred, pleased.
"I'll surprise you."
"Oh my. The mind boggles at the possibilities."
They flirted a little more, then Jim told her about Jake's stay so far, crying all the first night and Blair's solution, to their day at the park. Beau got a little choked up with homesickness, and then they had to go. She sent her love to her brother, and he got up and made tuna casserole.
It was just coming out of the oven when Blair got home from work. "Your sister called."
"Oh yeah?" Blair hung up his jacket, put his keys and wallet in the basket, and took off his holster. "How's she doing?"
"Fine." Jim raised his voice as Blair ducked into his room to lock his gun away. "She misses us, but the contract negotiations seem to be going okay. How's the case?"
"Rotten." Blair came out and grabbed a can of soda. "They hit the Dillard's at Cascade Crossings today... while Megan and I were at Saks'. On the other side of the mall. I think the guy's counting on that, these malls are so spread out security can't really get it together to catch him... I bet he's drilling on timing to make the cut."
"Hm. Oh, yeah. You got a package from Sierra Verde. On the coffee table."
Blair raised his eyebrows, face lighting up, and he made a beeline for the living room. "Yeah! Terry!"
"Terry who? Supper's getting cold here, Chief." Jim craned his neck, trying to focus his vision in over the younger man's shoulder.
"I'll reheat mine. Go ahead and eat," Blair muttered. Jim shrugged and moved the high chair back to the table, going to get Jake, who needed changing again. "Terry," Blair continued. "Terry Fraser. Archaeology grad student I was dating a couple years back."
"Oh her, always wore those dangly wind chime earrings."
"Yeah, that's her. She's with Peabody on the dig at the temple we found. Anyway, she promised to keep me in the loop."
Jim just grunted. The Olmec temple of sentinels they had stumbled across while chasing Alex Barnes wasn't something he had a clear memory of. He put Jake into his high chair, ducked into the bathroom to wash his hands, then opened a jar of baby food that wasn't stewed apricots and got a spoon.
He grinned as he fed Jake, watching his brown eyes widen as he chewed and swallowed. Glanced over at Blair, still on the couch, as he read through a thick sheaf of notes and shuffled through photographs. Letting out an amused bark of a laugh amid anthropological mutterings.
Just like the good old days.
It still surprised some people to learn that Detective Sandburg had a Ph.D. in anthropology, and after graduating he went to the police academy. Blair cheerfully admitted that he'd 'gone native' in the years he'd spent riding along as an observer, preferring the excitement and the social relevance of the roller coaster of police work to the intellectual analysis of the academic merry-go-round.
Jim scraped out the jar, wiped the remnants of his meal from Jake's cheeks and chin, then got up to serve himself. He had just sat down when Blair chuckled, "Oh. My. God," and got up, staring at an enlarged photograph. "Jim, you have got to see this."
"What is it?" he asked, looking as Blair set the photo down carefully on the table.
"Peabody's an idiot, refuses to believe in sentinels, so he's bending the evidence to fit his own pet theory, that the temple belongs to some local unknown warrior/hunter/harvest god..." Blair paused, struck by thought. "Which actually is a pretty good working definition of a sentinel. Anyway, check out these carvings."
Jim obediently studied the photograph. A tall figure, male. Muscles carved in sharp detail. Holding a spear in his right hand. His left hand rested on the head of one of the two jaguars lying at his feet. On his right hand side was another male figure, who carried a blowpipe and a shaman's medicine bag. On his left side was a visibly pregnant woman with a sheaf of corn stalks in her arms.
"Sentinel, Guide and Consort?" Jim asked, impressed.
"Yep. They were found on a wall in an inner chamber. We never went that far."
There was a row of smaller carvings below the main image. Sentinel and Guide killing a wild pig. Some kind of war or battle. Sentinel and Consort... Oh. Jim turned the picture and focussed his eyesight more intently. "Uh... Sandburg... are they doing what I think they're doing?"
Blair looked. "Oh. Yeah. If I hadn't refused Alex's advances, and you'd already met my sister, Sierra Verde would have been one hell of a party trip. Peabody seems to think it's some kind of fertility rite related to the harvest... but the temple was probably used as a breeding ground as well as a spiritual retreat. Which may explain some of what was going on with you and Alex down there. Racial memory."
Jim shut out memories of himself kissing Alex, the woman who'd drowned Blair. The woman he'd killed when she returned to threaten everyone he loved. "Racial memory. I keep telling you that if it's racial memory then I'd have visions of running around the moorlands and my spirit animal would be a sheep."
"Older than that, Jim, I'm talking about the human race and last time I checked Scots still counted." Blair shook his head. "Anyway, it's a glimpse of how sentinels were interacting in Olmec society."
"You, uh, you miss it?" Jim asked quietly.
"Anthropology?" Blair sounded surprised. "Sometimes. A little. Y'know, the road not taken. But I'm where I want to be. You ever miss the army?"
Jim snorted in reply.
They ate, and then Jim did the dishes while Blair sat down on the floor and played with Jake.
That night Jim dreamed of lying naked on a sun-warmed slab of granite, while Beau rubbed scented oil into his back. He woke, stretching languorously, and smiled. Not one of those vision-dreams, despite the jungle setting. This had more to do with Blair's anthro-pornography carvings, and the flirtatious phone call. He sighed softly, counting the days until her return.
He got up and went downstairs to the bathroom. When he came out, Jake was up, making soft little gurgles. Jim checked on his son, lifting Jake up and carrying him over to the balcony doors, cradling him carefully high against his bare shoulder. He hummed softly, rocking Jake gently in his arms, pacing back and forth. Smiled slightly and stopped, turning to look out at the lights of the city across the bay.
"Someday, my boy, all this will be yours," he whispered, partly in jest. He knew in his bones, whatever else James Jacob Ellison wanted to be when he grew up, he was the next Sentinel of Cascade.
Jake ruined the dramatic tension of the moment by trying to stick his fingers up his father's nose.
Beau paused, checking herself in her hotel bathroom mirror before taking a cab to her aunt's apartment. Classy without being dowdy was the look she was going for. Aunt Adele would probably start in on her makeup and hair anyway. The relative lack of both. A little lipstick and eyeshadow was all she usually bothered with, saving the full warpaint for formal occasions. And she kept her hair at a length that was easy to care for, wash and go. Flat black shoes, green slacks and a white shirt with red and green pinstripes. Nice enough.
The neighborhood looked about the same as she remembered it, so she had the cab drop her off at the corner. Dashed into the bakery to pick up something for dessert so she wouldn't be walking in empty-handed.
And then it was into the building and up to the spacious old fashioned apartment. It was everything she remembered and not as bad as she'd expected. The presence of her new son-in-law dulled the edge of Aunt Adele's tongue, in her mind no doubt quiet and respectable Doctor Joshua Katz, Mimsy, and their daughter Katherine were rebuke enough. A nice Jewish doctor, a long engagement, marriage and child. In that order.
Uncle Nathan was his usual slightly befuddled self. A sweet man, but most comfortable fading into the background, so it was hard to imagine he was Naomi's twin.
And Nana. Estelle Sandburg. Tiny, seemingly fragile as glass but hiding an iron will within. The old dragon.
Beau handed over the bakery box, greeted everyone, cooed over little Katherine, and produced her own baby pictures to be passed around and cooed over. Accepting the compliments and the regret that she hadn't brought her little boy on this trip.
Not rising to the bait of Aunt Adele's comments on what kind of a mother would leave her child to be cared for by his father for a business trip. She sweetly replied that, yes, Jim was an angel to support her in her career, and that he was relishing the time to spend with their baby.
Aunt Adele asked about Blair, and only made a few digs about his decision to play cops and robbers for a living when he had a perfectly good degree.
Dinner went well. Setting a good table was one of Aunt Adele's dearly held virtues, and again, the son-in-law with those magical initials after his name seemed to have a calming effect. Uncle Nathan was quietly pleased, surrounded by family. Josh and Mimsy seemed to be very happy with each other and with their daughter.
Motherhood suited Mimsy. Beau had wondered about that, remembering the silly airhead girl who had allowed her mother to make every decision more important than choosing a new shade of nail polish for her. She'd grown up a lot. Settled down and matured. Beau wondered what unseen changes Jim and Jake had made in her.
After dinner, they all sat in the living room with coffee and talked. Remembering old times, finishing catching up with each other. It was nice. And then Josh and Mimsy starting making noises about the drive home, packed up their things and their daughter, hugged everybody, and departed. Aunt Adele went to clean up her kitchen, and Uncle Nathan wandered off.
Leaving Beau alone with Nana.
"Come. Show me your little one once more," Nana ordered. So Beau settled down beside her on the sofa, and showed her the photographs. Nana stopped at one, one that Blair had taken. The family portrait. Beau sat in the rocking chair with Jake in her arms, Jim leaning in.
"Such a beautiful boy. Healthy. And you are happy? Your paramour treats you well?"
Beau smiled at the old fashioned delicacy of the phrase. "Jim and I are very happy together, Nana. He treats me well."
The old woman nodded slowly. "And is it because we are Jewish, that he will take you into his bed but not as his wife?" she asked quietly.
"Oh, no Nana, Jim's asked me to marry him. I was the one who said no."
Her head tilted, and bird-bright blue eyes looked into Beau's soul. "But you love him, yes?"
"Yes." Beau looked at the picture. "We... had kind of a whirlwind romance, and Jake wasn't exactly planned. Guess I take after my mother, huh?" She smiled slightly at her grandmother's wry acknowledgment. "I just, I never seriously considered marriage to anyone. Jim's a wonderful man and I do love him. I've been thinking about it lately, that being married to Jim wouldn't be... wouldn't be the worst things I've feared about marriage. Jim's not going to stuff me into a box labeled Wife and never let me be anything else. So maybe we will get married. Someday. Or we'll just go on as we have, raising Jake together, and another child might come along." Beau swallowed. "Are you disappointed in me, Nana?"
Her grandmother smiled. "You are loved and in love. Happy. This James Ellison of yours is a good man. Your brother calls him friend and Naomi respects him. That he is not Jewish, and not your husband, these things do not matter so much as they once did. The world has changed since I was a girl, changed in unimaginable ways, but some things, they do not change. There were those who said I should not marry your grandfather, my Jacob, for he was a German Jew, an outsider in both worlds. That we should have turned Naomi away from our door when she came home to us pregnant with you. There is enough pain and sorrow in this world, I think, without looking for ways to sour the apples. Love is love and it is always a miracle."
Beau reached up to wipe her eyes, surprised to find that her fingertips came away wet.
"If such traditional things matter to you, I give you my blessings."
Blair sank heavily onto a bench facing a fountain, and tried to decide if the stylized faux verdigris fish spitting water from the center was supposed to be a salmon. "I've shopped 'til I dropped," he announced.
Megan settled beside him. "I suppose we could sit for a bit."
Blair leaned back, and closed his eyes, feeling his feet throb.
"Not feeling nostalgic? I thought all American kids hung out at the mall."
"Not all of us. Don't believe everything you see on 90210 reruns," he muttered. Then he could feel Megan looking at him and opened his eyes. "Didn't really have the time, the money, or the inclination," he explained. "I was kind of a geek, so sometimes I'd hit the arcade, but I was usually too busy."
"Busy with what?"
"Homework. Reading. Helping Mom out by doing laundry or housework... or by earning some extra money doing odd jobs," he shrugged. "The three of us all working brought in enough to support us and pay for a few extras, in the lean times, but even when Naomi was making good money, she didn't really believe in allowance. You value something more if you earn it. Hanging out at the mall was something bored rich kids did." He nodded wryly at a passing pack of teenage girls in designer labels.
"Ahhha," Megan murmured.
Blair cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Let me guess. You were a bored rich kid?"
"Something of the sort. Being the youngest and the only girl, Dad was always giving me a bit extra to go and buy myself something pretty. Mainly because he didn't know how else to deal with a teenaged daughter." She shrugged. "It was something to do with your schoolmates, look at clothes and try on perfume and bat our eyelashes at the boys." She affected a vapid saccharine smile and batted her eyelashes. Blair let out a snorting laugh. "So if you weren't a, a mallrat, isn't that the term? What did you do for fun?"
"Well, I said I was a geek," Blair reminded her with a faint smile. "I read a lot. I read everything I could get my hands on. History, mythology, fairytales and folklore. PG Wodehouse and Sherlock Holmes. And I did hit the arcade. The Golden Age of video games. Space Invaders, Pac Man, Missile Command. We'd play board games at home. Or I had my guitar... even did the garage band bit for a while, my first year at Rainier."
"I didn't know you played an instrument. What kind of music?"
Blair shrugged. "A little of everything. Rock, rhythm and blues. Haven't really played for a while. Maybe one of these days I can serenade you," he added playfully, since she seemed intrigued by the idea.
"Ooh. I'd like that." Megan started to get to her feet. "C'mon. Lots more ground to cover today."
Blair got up with a groan. "And I thought the hiking trail in the park was tough."
"Suck it up, Sandy. At least we aren't really shopping." She indicated a passing society matron with a male companion pack animal, loaded down with bags from the department stores.
"Small favors," Blair muttered, and he forced himself to follow Megan on one more circuit of the mall.
Back at Major Crimes they poured over the witness reports, the files, watched video of the armed masked figure disappear through a hole in the security camera coverage and vanish completely.
"An inside job," Megan theorized, tapping a pen against her teeth. "He works security long enough to find the flaws in each mall's security system... when the guards inside and out will be at the farthest points from his target, and the blind spots in the camera system, maybe working the night shift and practicing..."
"Maybe." Blair shook his head. "We've got the names of the security firms that supply the malls with guards, let's get employee lists and see if anybody's worked at all the malls." They split up the names and made the phone calls, the lists would be faxed over by the morning.
"Just a matter of narrowing down the possibilities. Though catching the guy in the act would be nice..." Blair sighed.
"This is not the perfect crime, Sandy. He's bound to trip up sooner or later." Megan stretched. "Fancy getting a bite tonight?" Blair hesitated, and Megan quickly suggested "Or we could pick up something and go over to the loft. I'd love to see little Jake... and how Jim is coping with him."
He thought about it for a minute, tempted. Since Jim was getting fussier and becoming more of a mother-hen with every day, seeing Megan's reaction was an amusing mental image, he also felt a touch of guilt in considering going out with Megan instead of going home to help Jim with the baby... and since he and Megan were getting fairly serious she'd only seen Jake in passing a few times, and the kid test might not be such a bad idea...
On the other hand, a quiet dinner for two and a few hours at Megan's apartment certainly held attractions... and a bit of the overprotective brother in him whispered darkly that if Jim wanted to play Daddy, let him, Beau took care of Jake mostly by herself and Ellison deserved it for not keeping his hands to himself.
He grinned at her. "Just let me call Jim and tell him I'll be in late." Blair picked up the phone. Megan winked saucily. Jim just sighed and reused his 'you kids today' line, but didn't sound like he begrudged Blair having a lovelife while his own ladyfriend was on the opposite coast.
He and Megan ended up getting chinese from Jade Fan's and taking it back to her place, one of the apartments carved out of an old red brick Victorian house not too far from Rainier. They sat on throw pillows on the floor and spread the food out on the old tack box she used for a coffee table, and talked, told stories about Megan's girlhood in Sydney, and Blair's fieldwork, fed each other choice tidbits, and began a nonverbal seduction that they both knew would lead to the bedroom with the yellow tearoses on the wallpaper.
He was just pulling on his jeans when Megan rolled over with a sleepy murmur. "Blair?"
"Go back to sleep, babe. I love you," he whispered.
"Mmmm. Love you. Wish you could spend the night." She snuggled back down into her pillows again. Blair finished dressing and let himself out.
He kept turning the key to Megan's apartment over and over in his hand as he walked back to the Volvo. He hadn't put it on his regular keychain, the way Jim had simply added the key to Beau's apartment to his keys. Blair had a girlfriend's place keychain, a tacky plastic pink-glitter heart from his Romeo days. Thing was, he wanted to add it to his regular keychain.
He was in love with Megan Connor. He'd fallen in love a few times before, but the feelings always faded away. With Megan it just kept getting deeper, more serious. He loved her. They'd even jokingly considered getting married, when she'd emigrated to the states and signed on with Cascade PD full time, to get her a green card. Megan was just so great... smart and funny and beautiful, and he could talk to her, they really connected. And he could talk to her about the sentinel stuff.
If he was being honest with himself, Blair had to admit the sentinel stuff had helped kill a few relationships. Christine, who hadn't understood his apparent lack of academic ambition, or his fascination with policework. A few others who couldn't understand nights like tonight, would want him to sleep over. Or go on vacation together, and he couldn't exactly explain to them that he was afraid if Jim went fishing by himself he'd zone of the babble of the brook and be eaten by bears or something. A few girls had gotten sick of being stood up and canceled on when Jim developed a weird rash or sneezing fit which meant a round of tests and control practice.
The sentinel thing had done a number on Jim's lovelife too, not counting the pheromonally induced flings with female sociopaths, he'd seen Jim self-destruct a couple of promising relationships, Deborah Reeves for one, for no good reason, but the armchair psychologist in Blair could guess. If a woman got too close, she would find out he was a freak, and leave him. Which would hurt, so Jim drove her away before it could happen. Self-fulfilling prophecy, the fact that she did break up with him proved she would've.
And Blair had a few private speculations on the intermittent flare-ups of heightened senses that would have preceded him coming back online at full strength, their timing, and Jim's reaction to his ex-wife's comments about intimacy when he'd read the introductory chapter of Blair's thesis. Yelling about keeping his sex life out of the dissertation. It didn't take a great deal of imagination to consider what a spike of touch could do at a delicate moment. Not to mention what that would do to a guy's ego. Jim's control of his senses would have cured it. Too late for his marriage.
But that still led back into Blair's problem. All of their problems.
He and Jim had settled down into their comfortable bachelor existence, dating casually, because for all these reasons it just wasn't practical to bring an outsider in. And then Megan Connor had accidentally found out, looking through his copy of Richard Burton's monograph The Sentinels of Paraguay and putting two and two together about some of the things she'd seen Jim do. She and Blair had been flirting with each other, when she learned about Jim, and Jim hadn't exactly been happy about her knowing, but he liked Connor, and she didn't treat him any differently than she did when she thought he was a psychic—hadn't in fact treated him any differently than her first impression of him as a thickheaded Yank with a smart mouth, and that helped.
And then Jim had met his sister, Sparrowhawk. And whether it was chemistry, or that she was a Consort, a female guide and that was hard-wired into Jim's hindbrain as ideal mating material, or Cupid's arrow... Jim had started dating his half-sister. And they'd had the accident that resulted in Jake.
Jim's resistance to change and Beau's independence ensured that instead of breaking out of the rut, Beau got an apartment and Jim helped her with rent and expenses.
And life went on, and nothing changed.
Blair was torn. For the first time in his life, he really understood Jim's views on life. Things were good as they were. Change was scary. Living in the loft was great, it was an inviting, cozy, comfortable space. Jim's companionship, the man had been his brother long before Beau brought him into the family with the birth of their son. The women in their lives were part of the Inner Circle now, but still held off at one remove. Blair visited Megan's place but he still lived with Jim. Jim spent the night with Beau but still lived with Blair. Life could stay the same indefinitely.
But if they took the risk of change... Jim moving in with Beau, and him moving in with Megan... taking it to the next level, they'd lose everything they had. Getting up in the middle of the night to watch a bad monster movie and MST3K-ing it to drive the nightmares away. Bitching about the hot water heater and hair in the drain. The easy familiarity and connection that came from spending so much time together.
And Blair knew that he was the one with the most to lose. Beau and Jim... they were so married, even if they hadn't had the wedding yet and kept separate apartments. Jim had always been monogamous, he'd just had a little trouble finding someone to be monogamous with, as soon as Beau was pregnant he'd committed right down to his toes, even flying out to Boston to propose to her, and even though Beau wasn't ready to marry him, she'd settled down into a one man woman.
He and Megan... he thought she was the one... but he'd been in love before and the feeling faded away. If they split up to pair off, and then things didn't work out for him and Megan... where would that leave him?
He set his keys in the basket on the table by the door and hung up his jacket. The loft was dark and quiet, Jim had left the kitchen lights on for him. But that didn't necessarily mean... "Jim? You awake?" he whispered.
No answer from the bedroom upstairs, but there was a soft clacking noise from the crib. Jake was sitting up, one chubby hand still pressing a button on the activity panel. He looked up at Blair with wide brown eyes.
"Wore the old man out again, eh JJ?" he asked fondly.
"Blrrh," Jake said solemnly. Blair decided that was an attempt at his name and picked him up. The kid was getting heavier every time. And slightly damp. "Oops. We need a diaper?" He carried Jake over to the changing table. Bagged the wet diaper before throwing it into the diaper pail, then getting Jake cleaned up with a couple of baby wipes and putting on a fresh diaper. He did feel a little guilty about the disposable diapers but he could certainly see Beau's point about the sheer effort of laundry involved in cloth diapers. Sometimes convenience had to count against ecology-awareness.
He picked Jake up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, carried him back over to the crib, and carefully unhooked little fingers from a lock of hair, before setting him down again. Then Blair went into the bathroom to wash up. For some reason he felt better.
Jim had to stop himself from walking over to the balcony to watch Blair's car drive away. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't believe it. He was getting stir-crazy already. He'd never noticed what a joy the freedom was, to just walk out and go somewhere. So easily. He could go out, but the afternoon in the park had required more equipment than he'd taken on some recon missions back in his Ranger days, and it seemed like an awful lot of effort with no destination in mind. It was raining, so the park was out.
He took care of Jake, read to him, The Steadfast Tin Soldier this time, which he thought had a very good moral to the story; don't get involved with flighty women. Then he swept the floor and dusted. Put PBS on, and decided there was something vaguely disturbing about the Teletubbies and turned it off again. He found a home remodeling show on one of the cable channels and left that on instead.
He kept himself busy, cleaning up the kitchen, scouring out the sink, glancing through a cookbook idly, trying to decide if he wanted to plan on something different for dinner. He had some frozen spaghetti sauce he'd frozen the last time he'd made a batch out to thaw, and a box of shells... but maybe he could make something more elaborate one day, with all this time on his hands. He wasn't exactly a gourmet, even if he had the tastebuds for it.
He was good at bachelor cooking. Simple recipes you cooked because you needed to eat. And a few fancier menus you cooked for a date to impress her. But he was a basic meat and potatoes kind of guy. He didn't get out the binder that served as Blair's recipe book, he wasn't feeling that adventurous. Dried grasshoppers and moldy figs and ostrich meat. Ick.
He decided that stuffed sole sounded both interesting and edible, and jotted down a list of the ingredients he'd need. Then he got Jake down on the floor to play with him. He couldn't wait until Jake was old enough to throw a ball around, and he wondered if there was still a good peewee league football team in town. Only if Jake wants to play when he's big enough. He told himself firmly. But I'd go to all of his games.
Blair came home, worn out and starving. Jim teased him about getting out of shape and about Megan making him hold her purse, but made sure to pile the kid's plate high and gave him an extra slice of garlic bread.
He was doing the dishes when the phone rang. Blair answered. It was Beau. Jim managed to restrain himself from running over there to grab the phone, or eavesdropping on more than Blair's half of the conversation. Sounded like she'd been to see the family. He winced slightly, preparing himself to be properly consoling. But he heard Blair laugh so maybe it was all right.
At last their conversation wound down and Blair motioned to Jim, so he washed and dried his hands and came over to take the phone.
"Hey honey."
"Keeping the home fires burning, handsome?"
"Keeping a light burning in the window. How are you?"
"Still playing the waiting game. My old bud from Global Village, Anita, is coming into town, so we're going to have lunch and do some girl-stuff and catch up. Saw the family, everybody's fine. Kitty's a little doll but nowhere near as cute as our boy, in my unbiased opinion. Mimsy and Josh seem very happy together. Aunt Adele still thinks Blair and I are an embarrassment to the family name, Uncle Nathan... Uncle Nathan hasn't paid attention to anything going on around him since 1972, and Nana says we have her blessing as long as we're happy."
"Mm. Told you your grandmother approved of me," he laughed.
"That she does. She's not the only one. God, I miss you."
"I miss you too. More every day," he sighed.
"Getting into the swing of things with Jake? I know it's exhausting at first, but once you get used to the routine, it gets easier. But Jim, I want you to know if you want Mom or your dad to take over, and go back to work, it doesn't make you a bad father."
"No, I can do this," Jim insisted. "And it's only fair. I mean, I haven't been doing enough to help you with him. And that's going to change."
"Okay." She didn't sound convinced. "It's only a few more days. I just want you to know that you don't have to do this by yourself. God knows I couldn't. You are there for me and Jake. One hell of a lot more than my father or Blair's ever was. And as long as we've got Mom in town, and your dad and Sally, let them help. We're family, Jim. So if you want to go into work, don't feel guilty about letting one of them take care of Jake for a couple of hours. You hear me?"
Jim was, well, touched. That she knew he was feeling like he'd been a jerk and cared. But he didn't know how to say it, so he gave his best henpecked sigh. "Yes dear."
"You betcha babe."
They spent a few minutes saying goodbye and then hung up, and Jim went back to the dishes.
Megan paused, and lifted the sleeve of a sweater, idly fingering it. It sparkled with beading in intricate designs. "This is nice," she murmured.
"Pretty," Blair agreed, looking around.
Megan spent a few minutes looking through the rack for one in her size, and held it up to her chest, looking critically at her reflection in a nearby mirrored pillar. Then she checked the label again and made a face. "Hand wash, dry flat." She hung the sweater up again. "No thank you, life's just too short."
Then they went to Menswear, and pretended to look at ties. Blair paused over one, heavy silk, a tan-sandstone color with little outline circles, squares, and triangles in metallic gold, copper, and peacock green.
"This'd go with my court suit. What do you think?"
Megan pursed her lips and shook her head. "This," she said, picking out a tie that was a rich green with an understated accent of pewter gray dots.
Blair shrugged, and they moved on. "Want to go look at jewelry, or perfume?"
"Best stay away from the perfume testers or Jim will make you sleep on the balcony tonight. Of course, you can always come over," Megan teased him.
They went over, and Blair leaned against the counter with his best Bored Boyfriend expression while Megan rooted around through tester bottles, spraying cards and chatting with the salesgirl. Blair toyed with a couple of the tester bottles on the counter near him. Men's fragrances. Polo. Jim used to wear that before he'd gotten some Burt's Bees Bay Rum and Jim found that he liked the simpler scent better.
Catching Megan's eye, he made a 'moving' gesture and walked over to the next counter a couple of paces on and looked at watches. And watch bands. And then to jewelry, where Megan looked at earrings. They headed to the front of the store.
"Let's work our way to Marshall Field's again. Our lunch break's coming up, do you want to go somewhere else or eat in the food court again?"
Blair snorted. "I've forgotten what a real restaurant looks like. With our luck, if we go out somewhere, the guy'll hit and Simon will have us for lunch. What've they got here other than Wonderburger?"
Megan shrugged helplessly.
"This is one of the stores that he's hit, isn't it. How does this guy get away in a crowded mall?" Blair chewed his bottom lip with frustration. "Okay. He comes in, he cleans out a couple of the registers, he's seen by the clerks coming this way and he..."
"... disappears completely."
"Yeah, but Darien Fawkes is a TV character and that's a pretty good alibi." They walked through the entrance.
"Security cameras here and there," Megan pointed out. They watched the cameras, Blair silently calculating the coverage arc.
"Hang on, let me try something," Blair said, and went back into the department store. Megan watched with some bemusement as he walked back out of the store, then sidled to the left, hugging the wall, then ducked down, crouch-walking over to the nearby service corridor and exit. He straightened, giving a nod of satisfaction. "Now we head for the security office and check the tape... then check the layouts of the malls around the stores that got robbed. If I'm right, this is how he's getting in and out so quick."
At the security office, they watched the tape for that part of the mall, both the department store cameras and the ones in the mall proper. Watched themselves come out of the mall, and waited. And waited. And waited.
"Yes!" Blair exulted, punching the air. Megan pulled out her cellphone and called for a forensic tech to come go over the service corridor for physical evidence.
Back at Major Crimes, they poured over the crime scene photos and found that every store that had been robbed was close to a service corridor.
"Aw Sandy, you're a genius," Megan sighed. "One step closer."
There was nothing else they could do on that case for the day, so Joel borrowed Megan to take a witness statement in one of his cases, since the witness was a twelve year old girl and a little scared. Blair worked on the endless paperwork, cleaning up the backlog and clearing off his desk.
Beau took a better hold on the large shopping bag in her lap as the taxi swerved violently. She didn't even flinch. Being a passenger in a certain blue and white '69 Ford Ranger had cured her fear of cabdrivers. The 'It Could Be Worse' school of aversion therapy. Anita Calhoun, her old college roommate and the publisher of Global Village Magazine spent more time in limos and the Viper her husband had given her for her thirtieth birthday, didn't even notice. All of the bags were Anita's. They'd done the shops, and although Beau enjoyed shopping about as much as the next guy, there was a certain pleasure in watching an artist at work, and Anita brought new meaning to the term 'wholesale destruction.'
They were dropping by her hotel to dump the bags in her room, and then heading out to have lunch at some ridiculously trendy restaurant and then hit the museums.
Beau blinked as they pulled up to the hotel entrance and got out, Anita scattering bellboys ahead of her like a flock of pigeons. "My god, you're staying here?"
Anita glanced around the lobby. "Yes, Jason has a corporate suite. Why?"
A corner of Beau's mouth turned up. "My cousin Miriam had her wedding reception here."
"Small world, isn't it? You should know that, before you retired to write romance novels and live one with that hunky cop of yours you were always running into odd people in odd places. I'll just be a minute, I want to check and make sure everything's all right upstairs and then we'll go for lunch. I've heard marvelous things about this new place Le Petit Couchon."
Anita disappeared with a flutter of Hermes scarves, leaving Beau to translate "The Little Pig?" to herself in bemusement before being swept up in memory.
By some strange twist of fate there had been a police conference here the same weekend as Mimsy's wedding, and guess who had been sent as the Cascade representatives. Jim had attended the reception as her date, and that night they'd consummated the attraction that had been growing between them since the week she'd spent at the loft reconnecting with her brother Blair some months earlier. She had also learned that Jim was a sentinel when he had zoned on a diamond pendant in a display case of one of the lobby stores during a robbery.
She closed her eyes briefly, remembering.
Leaning against a desk in Major Crimes, unsure of her welcome, or what to think of her brother's involvement in the observer program of a police department after what Naomi had told her about the carjacking case. Looking up to see Blair, blue eyes dancing warmly, hair brushing his shoulders, silver hoops in one ear, worn denim and flannel... and behind him a vision of masculine perfection.
The warm solid weight of Jim on top of her as a sniper fired into the loft.
Sitting on the couch miserable and pouring her heart out about the misunderstandings and hurt feelings that had led to the long silence between brother and sister after an ill considered remark had sent Blair storming out away from her. Compassion and reassurance.
Despite the very real danger of the robbery going on around them, staring at Jim in amazement as she realized that Blair hadn't changed his thesis subject, he'd found his sentinel. Jim.
On the dance floor, musing over how hard it must be for Jim to hide what he could do, to fit in. And Jim surprising her, telling her there was a time to fit in and a time to stand out, and twirling and dipping her like a professional dancer.
Opening her hotel room door to find Jim standing there, with a shy smile and an offer to help with the zipper of her dress. Throwing herself at him, most literally. Tongues tangling in a kiss, fumbling with clothing.
Thousands of phone calls. Stolen hours and evenings together. The moment she'd realized that Jim had zoned and the results. Jake. Jim flying to Boston the day she'd called to confirm the pregnancy. Jim happy and nervous, asking her to marry him... the faint hurt in his eyes as he accepted her answer. The argument months later when he proposed again. Jim saying "But if you ever change your mind, you propose and my answer'll be yes."
Beau tried not to act on impulse. Life as Naomi's daughter had made her downright allergic to the concept. Spontaneity was having six or seven backup plans and the luxury to choose. It was one of the reasons she'd initially resisted falling head over heels in love with Jim, she didn't trust things that happened so suddenly.
But even she understood when Fate, Destiny, Karma, call it what you will, was leading the way. To be here, now. It all fit. She found herself walking over to the jewelry store and browsing. The ring was, of course, perfect. A decent-sized square diamond framed with onyx, set in gold.
She stepped back out into the lobby, a black velvet box riding secreted in the bottom of her purse. She was ready. It was time. And it's not like Sparrowhawk Ellison sounds any stupider than Sparrowhawk Sandburg.
Anita was waiting for her. She didn't tell her old friend what she was planning to do, wanting to keep it to herself, secret, half afraid that speaking aloud would somehow jinx it, half knowing that by saying nothing, she would have plenty of time to prepare herself to do this... and if she chickened out... no one would know.
Blair sat down at his desk, still smiling to himself over Jake's bath last night. Jim had soloed this time, and it had been happy accident that he'd left the bathroom door open and Blair had been going into his bedroom and overheard the older man's monologue. Saying "... just a little bit to wash the hair, but don't worry kiddo, you're lucky it comes down the mother's line and you know how fuzzy Uncle Blair is..."
It really was too bad he couldn't set up a video camera in the loft without the sentinel knowing about it. Think of all the Kodak moments they were missing. Not to mention the blackmail material.
His phone rang. "Sandburg, Major Crimes."
"Results are in, Blair. Do you want a summary or to come down for all the special effects?"
Oh great. "Summary's fine Sam." It had to be Sam, the poster gal for not having an office romance.
"We found fingerprints. Matching up to one Peter Edgehill. He's worked either security or cleaning crew at all of the malls. And guess what he was in the system for?"
"Armed robbery."
"Got it in one."
"Thanks Sam."
"You could show your gratitude with dinner at Claudine's."
Blair pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sam, we had some fun together, it didn't work out," he sighed.
"I'm willing to give you another chance. You should be grateful that I think you're worth it."
Blair looked longingly over at the door to Simon's office and wondered how far into a sexual harassment complaint he could get before the captain started laughing.
"Sorry Sam. My window is closed." He put the phone down gently. A certain morbid curiosity made him wonder, if he'd stayed on the line, who she'd accuse him of sleeping with this time. When they'd first broken up, before Megan had come to Cascade, Sam had made some nasty remarks about his living arrangements, implying that he and Jim were lovers and he had been using her, to stay in the closet.
After all, it just wasn't possible that he'd broken up with her because she was a petty, selfish, manipulative bitch and he'd finally gotten sick of the mindgames. Sam was like a cat, and Blair the battered mouse that had managed to get away before she tired of tormenting him. In her worldview, it couldn't possibly be her fault they'd broken up. Nothing was ever her fault. So it was Blair's.
That stunt she'd pulled with the explosive during the arson case, to punish him for standing her up, that had been a clear warning sign. If only he hadn't been too hormone-blind to read it.
He got up and walked over to Megan's desk, thanking Cupid and all the other gods of love for sending him this sweet, sane woman. "Hey Megan, lab results are in. Our suspect is Peter Edgehill. We should have an address on one of the employee lists."
"Good. I'll call for a warrant." She picked up the phone while he sorted through the paperwork on her desk.
Peter Edgehill lived in a rundown apartment building near Southtown. The manager of the place knocked at the door, with an excuse of leaking plumbing. No answer, so he unlocked the door and Blair and Megan went in, guns drawn.
This was the part of the job Blair hated. The adrenalin-sick anticipation/terror of getting shot, or having to shoot someone else. It didn't happen today. The apartment was empty. But there was plenty of evidence out on the coffee table. Stacks of bills, rolled coins and coin wrappers. At least a couple of thousand worth.
"Well, either Edgehill's been saving up for a rainy day or we've found our guy." Blair holstered his weapon.
Megan called it in and reported that Captain Banks was sending a couple of uniforms over to watch for his return, and they might as well report to their assigned mall.
Jim lifted the stroller out of the back of his truck, and set it up, then transferred Jake from the carseat. Entering the mall through the wheelchair access doors made maneuvering the stroller a little easier. At least Jake seemed to enjoy the jolt of bumping into the doorframe.
There was one of those map signboards at this entrance. Jim spent a few minutes studying it, planning to get to his objectives in the least amount of time and trouble. He hit Crabtree And Evelyn first. Lavender bath and shower gel. Beau liked taking bubble baths and he liked a relaxed and scented Beau. Tucking the bag into the little cargo net thingy on the back of the stroller, Jim went in search of the next item on his list.
Veronique's Attic was a new experience. He'd never bought lingerie for a woman, not even Carolyn, and they certainly had all kinds. He glanced over racks of bras and panties, and ample mannequins displaying different styles, a display of silk stockings, absently listening to the background whisper of a couple of salesladies who had noticed him and the stroller, then spotted the negligees.
He pushed Jake over and started examining them. A low cut black number that laced up the sides... nah. Lace. Too scratchy. Ah, this was more like it. Pale lilac in color, spaghetti straps. Fancy curlicue of gold embroidery along the neckline. He stroked the silky material, tugging the flared skirt out between his hands. Oh yeah. He could imagine Beau wearing it, the slippery cloth sliding under his hands as he pushed the skirt up her hips... Now all he had to do was find the right size.
"May I help you?"
"I'm looking... I'm looking for a present..." He started to explain that he wasn't sure what size to get, but knowing she liked things she slept in a little loose, large would probably do it.
"A present for your wife?"
"For my girlfriend," he corrected her automatically, then realized what that sounded like when the barely audible sharp intake of breath registered. He looked up from sorting through the rack into the eyes of a gray-haired saleswoman with a surprisingly maternal air to be working in a joint like this. "His mother, we're not married..." he elaborated, flustered, and thrust the hanger out.
Steely blue eyes softened. "Oh yes, these are very nice. Planning a special evening?"
Jim followed her to the register, "Uh, yeah, she's out of town for the first time since our son was born... I figured I'd, y'know, do something romantic." Wondering why he was telling her all this. Wondering why she was even asking. They didn't interrogate you at Sears.
The lady who had waited on him and a younger brunette at the counter proved a font of women's magazine article-type suggestions, some of them terrifyingly personal, while he dug his wallet out and paid for the negligee. He winced a little at the price, that seemed like an awful lot for something Beau wasn't going to spend much time wearing. But he paid for it, and left, considering some of the ladies' ideas. He'd been planning on getting her flowers when they picked her up at the airport, but the scattering rose petals on the tablecloth thing sounded nice. Candles, the good dishes, one rose in a vase. No rose petals in bed though.
Okay. Bubblebath, negligee, flowers would have to wait until the morning of her return. Dinner... he was still debating over cooking for her as opposed to ordering chinese, her favorite almond chicken. He couldn't choose a wine until he decided. Cooking would get him points for effort, ordering her favorite meal would get him points for paying attention. He just wasn't sure which was worth more points.
Now he needed something else to give her, a more present-y present, since the nightgown was really for him. Too bad he didn't have a clue. Perfume or jewelry always seemed to please Carolyn... but he'd already bought her the scented bath gel and he didn't want to imply that she stunk or something. No, he liked the way she smelled. And Beau wasn't much of a jewelry person, she had some, but she'd only worn it when they dressed up.
He didn't know what she would want, and there wasn't anything he knew she needed. Maybe he could get her a piece of jewelry, nothing extravagant, but earrings or a pin or something. Even if she didn't wear it often, it would have sentimental value when she did, as a momento of the night. He'd take a look around, as long as he was here, and see if anything caught his eye.
The perfume and cosmetic counter were always placed right at the entrance of the department stores. Jim smothered a sneeze as they passed, smiled as a tiny "ichoo!" came from the stroller. On to the junk jewelry counter. Hoops and hearts earrings. Pave crystal. 1928. Silver Forest. He fingered the rainbow glass beads of a multi-strand necklace, comparing it to the sort of things Beau wore, trying to decide if she would like it. There was another one that had slightly different colors. Marking it in his memory as a possibility, he walked over to take a look at the real jewelry, skimming over the engagement rings and wedding sets. They'd already had that fight. Beau wouldn't marry him and he accepted it.
Pretending to browse in the Menswear department, Peter Edgehill took a blazer into the changing area. In the privacy of the stall he pulled out a ski mask and put it on, took his gun from his pocket, and walked out onto the salesfloor at a quick, ground covering stride, heading for the jewelry counter. Perfect. One customer and it was a middle-aged guy with a kid. He strode up to the counter, pointing the gun.
The saleswoman froze, going pale. Good. No screaming gave him a couple of extra seconds to play with. "Empty the register into a shopping bag and nobody gets hurt." She began to do as he said. Good. He glanced at the dad for a moment, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed what was going on.
His first mistake was standing so close to James Ellison.
His second mistake was bearing a weapon in the presence of Jim's child.
His last mistake was taking his eyes off Jim for a second.
The Fine Jewelry saleswoman screamed as the customer who had been looking at lockets hit the gunman. Attacked him. Reaching out and twisting the gun out of his hand, hitting him with enough force to knock the robber down, following him to the floor, wrenching the man's arms behind him and producing handcuffs.
Megan and Blair looked at each other as a woman's scream echoed through the store, and began running toward the sound. And stopped as they took in the scene. There was a man sprawled on the floor between the display cases, handcuffed, a black ski mask on the floor beside his face. Jim was crouching over him, holding a gun—not Jim's sidearm. The stroller was about a foot behind Jim, and Jake was crying.
"Just a minute, Jake, Daddy's busy," Jim was saying.
"Jim, what are you doing here?" Blair asked. "Busman's holiday?" Ready to tear into Jim if he had actually come to the mall to look for the robber, and brought Jake with him. He couldn't actually see Jim putting the baby in danger but the fact was Jim was here and had caught their suspect.
"Doing some shopping. Didn't realize that they were having a sale. Felons 50% off."
"You brought your cuffs to go shopping?" Blair asked incredulously.
Jim had the good grace to blush slightly. "Force of habit, grabbed 'em with my wallet and watch."
Blair glanced over at the empty stroller and noticed the pink and silver bag hooked over the handles. Veronique's Attic. He opened his mouth to make a crack about whether those were Jim's police-issue cuffs or if he'd just bought them, and stopped. The stroller was empty. Jake wasn't crying.
Megan stood a little ways away, with Jake in her arms, and just above a whisper was singing to him. "Hush a-bye my little love, sleep comes to you, a white dove..." Jake was staring at her with wide-eyed fascination, reaching out to tug gently at a long auburn curl.
Blair's heart melted.
Jim grinned at both the sight of Megan cradling Jake, and Blair's starry-eyed expression as he looked at her. At Megan's sappy smile as she looked up and met Blair's eyes. Oh yeah, those two have it bad for each other. He had a sudden vision-flash of a wolf and a dingo running together, playfully pouncing at each other, and shook it off.
Since Jim wasn't on duty, Blair read Edgehill his rights and took custody of him, while Jim went to rescue Megan from Jake, who had noticed the sparkle of a sapphire earring, and had a hold of her left earlobe. "You'll have to come in and give a statement, Jim, but it shouldn't take too long." Megan reminded him as he put Jake in the stroller. He looked at her. "Not too long," she amended.
"I'll meet you at the station," he promised, pulling out his cellphone and punching in a number. "Dad? Jim. Can you take Jake for a couple of hours? Nothing's wrong, long story."
The front door opened before Jim had closed the door of the truck. Jim grinned to himself, going up the walk, wondering how long his dad had been sitting by the window, waiting. Probably since they'd hung up the phone. "Jim," the old man greeted him with a nod and a smile.
Sally had been standing half a step behind him. "There's my boy." Before Jim could say a word, she plucked Jake from his arms and turned to take him into the house.
Jim blinked and looked over at his father's wide smile. "I think I just had a flashback to when Steven was born," he joked.
William Ellison laughed and patted his son's shoulder. "Come in for a minute?"
"Just for a minute." Jim followed his father inside and down the hall, swinging the straps of the diaper bag down from his shoulder. "You'll need this..." he trailed off, standing in the doorway of what was now a nursery. He'd dropped Jake off or picked him up a couple of times, but he hadn't come inside. Not because of the old animosity, things were better between father and son, but just the hectic pace of life.
The last time he'd been in the house this had been a small guest room. Now furniture he remembered from old photographs had been moved it, the satiny gleam of polished mahogany and crisp white ruffles. Someone had also been systematically emptying an FAO Schwartz into the place.
"You, uh, you've fixed this up nice," he said at last.
"My one and only grandson," his father said lightly. "If I spoil him, well, grandparents' prerogative."
Sally finished tucking Jake into the crib, and took the diaper bag from Jim, setting it on the floor beside the fully equipped changing table.
"You've got everything under control here, and I've got to get going. I'll be back around four," Jim said. His dad walked him out. Jim hesitated in the foyer, uncomfortable, feeling the weight of years of resentment. "Uh, Dad... now that I've had a taste of the single father bit... you didn't have any support, and two of us, and..."
His father gripped his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know, Jimmy. And at least you're learning from my mistakes."
By the time he got to the station and up to Major Crimes, new that he was coming in had already spread. Someone had raided Rhonda's storeroom stash of seasonal decorations and artistically draped his desk with cobwebs, complete with the fat fake fur and pipecleaners spider perched on his computer monitor. Probably the comedy team of Rafe and Brown.
He growled a little, to keep his reputation intact, and then went over to sit at Megan's desk while she took his statement. It didn't take that long actually, but then he had to stop in at the captain's office and let Simon rag him a little about not being able to resist policework, even while he was playing househusband he had to end up in the middle of a case. Commiserated with him about the trials of fatherhood, and torturing him with a few anecdotes about what he had to look forward to, such as toddler-Darryl expanding his potty training by flushing everything he could get his hands on. Then suggested that as long as Jim was there, he might as well work on some of the backlogged paperwork piling up on his desk.
Rhonda had already cleared the Halloween decorations off his desk, more likely had made Rafe and Brown put it away. Jim sat down at his desk and did some work, checking his watch. Feeling a little guilty about how good it felt. To be out of the house. To be working. To have an adult conversation with someone other than Blair. Even to be doing paperwork.
He worked for about an hour and a half, then left. He ran into Blair on the way out, coming back to Major Crimes from taking Edgehill down to Booking. "Oh, hey, you're heading home?" Blair swung around to walk him out.
"Yeah. I've got to pick up Jake," he sighed. "And fix dinner."
"I'll get pizza on the way home," Blair offered.
"Yeah, that'll work." Jim yawned. He wasn't getting much more than five hours of sleep a night, and it had already been a long day. Without paying attention to his 'dials', his senses drifted from normal, and he could hear a spirited discussion of whether his appearance in Major Crimes counted for the Mr. Mom pool, and he gave a surprised little laugh as they passed Forensics. "Atta girl, Cassie."
Blair looked at him suspiciously. Jim grinned at him. "You've been keeping the thing with Connor quiet around here. Cassie just ripped Sam a new one for starting up about us again."
Blair closed his eyes briefly, in pain. Jim just shook his head, amused. He'd been a little angry at the time, knowing that spreading a rumor that they were lovers could cause real trouble in a less enlightened department. Luckily Cascade was Cascade. As long as it didn't effect them, no one cared, so nothing happened. Well, except for Davis in Homicide inviting them to go out dancing with him and his boyfriend. But after a few more of their public romantic disasters with psychos of the opposite sex, the rumor had died out.
"Oh man!" Blair sighed with exasperation. "You and my sister have a baby! Not even Sam could expect anybody to buy that."
"She adjusted the rumor," Jim explained. Blair looked up in confusion. "I'm sure Naomi taught you two to share your toys but..." He patted the younger man lightly on the cheek. "... you're cute, lambchop, but you're not that cute."
Blair just groaned and rolled his eyes ceilingward for strength.
Jim stopped for a few minutes at his dad's place, to talk. That was something he didn't do enough of, either. Trying to rebuild broken family ties still made their conversations awkward and stilted sometimes, but they'd come a long way since Jim had walked into the house to search for references to an old childhood rival turned serial killer, walking into the house for the first time since he'd left for college. William Ellison had apologized for the mistakes he'd made, and Jim and Steven both had accepted the apology, and forgiven him for being human. Not the perfect dad shown on television, but simply a man who didn't know what he was doing but trying his best.
Since Jake was born, Jim had found a lot of empathy for a man trying to raise two sons on his own in an era where divorce was a rarity instead of the norm.
They made some undefined plans to get the whole family together and do something for the holidays, maybe the Grandview Zoo Illumination, a light show that started the day after Thanksgiving and ran until New Year's. They were supposed to be doing something special this year.
Jim got Jake home and took care of him, getting him fed and bathed. Was a little surprised when Blair got home, bearing two extra-large pizzas with pepperoni and mushrooms, a couple of videos and Megan Connor. Jim didn't say anything, but got her a bottle of beer. The movie was actually pretty good. An action movie Jim didn't remember hearing anything about, he was usually wary about those after 'The Perfect Storm' left him with some gut-wrenchers of nightmares with the scene of the helicopter crashing into the ocean a couple of miles offshore. Helicopter crash. Deep water. Brr. But this was just car chases, exploding buildings, and smart remarks.
When the first movie was over, Beau called, and Jim took the phone up to his bedroom, telling them to go ahead and watch the second one. It was supposed to be a comedy, but it had someone who'd been on Saturday Night Live after the original cast, so he knew it wasn't going to be any good.
Jim glanced over the railing while he talked to Beau, not at all surprised to find Blair and Megan had gone from sitting at either end of their couch to meeting in the middle, locked in a clinch and ignoring the braying moron on the television screen. Jim quietly described the scene to Beau, who laughed and gleefully plotted how to drop the news to Aunt Adele that Blair was not only throwing away years of higher education to be a cop, but was also throwing himself at a female detective. That might just send her over the edge. Policework, while being necessary and we certainly needed more cops since the streets weren't safe to walk in broad daylight, policework just wasn't ladylike, was what Aunt Adele would say.
Jim stretched out on his bed and they had a nice long conversation about missing each other. He didn't mind getting gooey-sentimental about it, alone in his room. Neither of them used baby-talk, not even when talking to Jake, but he had to admit they got a little sappy about being separated.
When he went downstairs, he made sure to make noise approaching the stairs wand was amused to find Blair and Megan still sitting close, but pretending to watch the movie, studiously ignoring the facts that they were both a bit breathless and Blair was now wearing most of Megan's lipstick. Jake needed to be changed again, so Jim got him cleaned up and then sat him down on his lap, hoping that keeping him up a little while would help him sleep longer later at night. He wasn't doing it to fish for a compliment, but Megan immediately commented on how cute Jake was, and talked a little bit about her nieces and nephews back in Sydney. With five older married brothers, she certainly had a lot of them, and before she'd come to Cascade on the exchange program, she'd spent a lot of time with her family. There was a faint air of wistfulness in her voice as she spoke about them.
Blair asked about the lullaby she'd been singing to Jake in the store to calm him. She looked surprised. "Oh, I don't know the name of it, or if it's a real song. Our mum used to sing it to us." She looked both surprised and pleased when Jim asked if she would write the words down for him.
All in all, it was a surprisingly pleasant evening. Jim supposed that if Blair was serious about Megan, he'd have to get used to socializing with her. As sort of an in-law, she certainly beat Wendy Plummer. And, well... it was good seeing Blair spending time with a woman with the right kind of arrest record.
Over the weekend they got some chores done around the loft. The weekly cleaning, hauling the recyclables out to the recycling center, and a good basic grocery restock instead of buying stuff as needed. Also the laundry, which was kind of the household equivalent of paperwork. There was always a lot of it that needed doing and you didn't notice it piling up, and the only way to stay on top of it was to do a little of it every day.
Blair took Jake to the park and came back the kind of cheerful that indicated a well-fed ego, and reported that it really was too bad he'd gotten involved with Megan, Jake was better babe-bait than walking a puppy. Jim threw a sponge at him, and went back to trying to discover the source of The Smell in the fridge. He eventually discovered a mummified carrot that had somehow gotten wedged behind the vegetable bin, and disinfected the entire refrigerator.
Firmly telling himself that he wasn't being a bad father, or selfish, that on the contrary he was ensuring the rest of the family got equal time, he arranged to go back to work, Dad and Sally taking Jake Tuesday and Thursday, and Naomi getting him Monday and Wednesday. Beau was due home Friday. He also talked to Blair about babysitting one day so he could have a night alone with Beau.
Time moved on. With the mall robber caught, Major Crimes turned their attentions back to the usual cold cases from other departments, escalating patterns, and the occasional 'major' crime that made up their caseload. Monday, Jim noticed Blair coming out of the breakroom with a smug grin, tucking his wallet back into his pocket. Jim shook his head at Brown's muttered protest that they shouldn't allow Hairboy to bet in any Jim-related pools, Rafe's comment about it being a fix or the psych minor and proximity, and Joel wondering if the fact Jim was working short days and going home early should have been factored in.
Jim dropped Jake off on the way to work, picked him up on the way home. Except for Beau's absence, things were almost back to normal.
Until Wednesday.
They were in the captain's office, giving Simon an update on the Oxenberg Furrier truck hijacking, when the phone rang. Captain Banks picked it up, listened to Rhonda for a second, sighed, "Put her through," and handed the phone to Jim. He glared at Blair. "I thought you were going to talk to your mother about using this number," he began angrily, then stopped as Jim went white.
"No," he said sharply. "Naomi, just calm down. Take a deep breath, that's right, uh, find your center. You don't have to take him to the hospital, I know... but, it's happened before, it's okay, I know what it is. Yeah. We'll be right over," he sighed. "I'll explain when we get there, but I promise you, Jake's okay."
"Jim?" Blair asked, worried, as the older man put the phone down and sighed.
"Looks like it's time to let your mom in on the family secret, Chief. Damn it, I should have known this would happen. Jake zoned on her and she thought it was some kind of seizure. Should have told her earlier, not put her through that..."
"Jim. Come on. When I edited you out of my thesis, we agreed the fewer people who know that you're a sentinel, the better. With Jake's senses winding down into the dormancy period, there was no reason to tell her. He's only zoned what, four or five times."
Jim just shook his head angrily and looked at the captain for permission to leave. Simon gave a sympathetic wave of his hand in dismissal.
It was a quiet drive to Serendipity. Quiet on one side. Jim was tying himself up in knots over it, guilt for Naomi's panic, fear at having to tell someone, one more person in the world who would know that he was... different, and he was resisting Blair's best efforts to untangle him. Blair took a deep breath. Most of the time Jim seemed to have accepted his sentinel abilities... other times, it was clear that he still felt like some kind of a sideshow freak.
Serendipity was in a small block of retail/residential buildings closer to the University, but with the same set-up as Jim's loft. Naomi was running the new-age knickknack store and subletting/housesitting for a couple of old friends of hers traveling in India.
The apartment was only a single level. Large windows let in a lot of sunlight. Comfortably shabby furniture, scratched and dented and lovingly polished, handmade rag rugs on the hardwood floors. Bookshelves, inexpensive framed art prints on the walls, the faintly spicy scent of meditation candles, and a shaggy fern hanging from a hook in the ceiling completed the small living room's decor. The small folding crib's new addition, a toy mobile of bright plastic butterflies, told them all they needed to know.
Naomi was waiting for them at the door, wringing her hands, her purse and an old leather jacket dropped over a nearby armchair evidence of her interrupted flight to the emergency room. Blair immediately moved to embrace his mother while Jim held back. "Hey Mom. It's all right," he soothed, patting her back. After a moment of comfort, she pulled away.
"He seems better. More alert." She led them over to the crib. Jim picked Jake up, held out a finger for little fingers to grab. Blair touched a switch on the part of the mobile that clipped to the crib. Tinkling music and the butterflies began to spin. Blair pushed the button again and it stopped.
Jim sat Jake down on his lap on the sofa, Blair sat beside him, and Naomi perched on the armchair.
Naomi clasped her hands and brought them up to her lips, then leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees. "What's wrong with Jake, and why didn't you tell me that he's sick?"
Jim gently stroked the back of Jake's head. "He's not sick, Naomi. He's just... his father's son."
Naomi turned tear-reddened, uncomphrending eyes to Blair. He took a deep breath, and began. "Mom. You remember my thesis? Sir Richard Burton's The Sentinels of Paraguay. In all tribal cultures every village had what Burton named a sentinel. Someone chosen for a genetic advantage, a sensory awareness developed beyond normal humans. I was looking for sentinels in the modern world, to see how they adapted. I said in my dissertation that sentinels were an evolutionary dead end. I lied. I found one. Jim."
"Jim is a sentinel?" Naomi repeated slowly.
"And so is Jake," Jim confirmed, and pressed a small kiss to his son's forehead.
"What happened to Jake is what I call a zone out. He concentrates so much on something that's caught his attention, he doesn't pay attention to anything else. But that just happens, he's okay now."
Naomi's hand flew to her mouth. "The mobile! I'll take it down, I'll take it back to the store..."
Jim smiled slightly, with wry humor. "That's probably a good idea. I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier. It's not something I like to talk about, but I shouldn't have put you through all this."
She reached out and patted his knee. "Jake's going to be okay?"
Blair nodded hard. "Jake's absolutely fine."
Naomi sighed. "Oh thank god. I was so frightened that... thank god." She wiped her eyes again, sighing, then looked quizzically at her son. "You lied in your thesis?"
Blair winced. He was a grown man. He had his doctorate. He was a detective. And Naomi could still make him feel like a four year old caught climbing up the counter and headed for the cookie jar just with that tone of voice.
"I had to. If the information got out, it could be used against Jim in a number of inventive ways. I had to weigh a bit of academic integrity against a man's life."
Naomi nodded her perfect understanding. "People before principles," she breathed. "Oh, of course. I won't say a word to anyone. Does Beau know?"
Jim nodded. "Beau. My father. Captain Banks. And Megan Connor, Megan pretty much figured it out on her own." Jim was beginning to relax a little bit. Probably because of Naomi's unconditional acceptance. Since she hadn't thrown him out, or recoiled from him in horror, he wasn't quite as tense as he had been when they came in.
"So Jim and Jake are sentinels. And they have these zoneouts... is that why you don't like sage smoke, Jim? Because the scent is too pungent? How much stronger are their senses? And is there anything else I should watch out for, when I'm taking care of Jake?"
Blair turned to Jim with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Parlor tricks?" Jim groused.
"Parlor tricks."
"It's not funny, Sandburg," Jim complained, and he got Jake settled down in his crib for the night.
"You didn't have to say yes when she asked," Blair pointed out reasonably, as he finished washing the dishes.
"Yeah... well... she looked at me."
Naomi had not only accepted Jim's sentinel senses, she'd put him to work. Before he quite knew what was happening, he'd agreed to do a random sampling of produce from the 'garden market' part of Serendipity, to taste-test for pesticide residue. Naomi thought some of the organic farmers weren't as organic as they claimed to be.
Blair listened to Jim complain with a small smile, hearing the relief in every crabby word. And Jim was in a remarkably good mood the next day, awaiting Beau's return.
Beau couldn't concentrate. She knew how to travel, she'd done it for a living not so long ago. She had a book, and a magazine, but she didn't feel like reading. She had galley proofs, but she didn't feel like working, although the fat new contract they'd signed had given her a new pride in her scribblings. She made sure she dark enough water, and walked up and down the aisle when they were free to move about the cabin. Mostly, she thought about Jim, and Jake, seeing Blair and Naomi again. She had a lot of experience in traveling, but in a way, this was the first time she was coming home.
She was also thinking about the man's ring in its box buried deep in her luggage. She was a romance novelist, she could think of a lot of ways to propose to Jim. Doing a reverse of the traditional way, getting down on one knee to ask him if he'd do her the honor of being her husband. Tying the ring to the medicine cabinet and writing 'Will You Marry Me?' on the mirror in lipstick for him to find when he went to shower in the morning. An indoor picnic, spreading a quilt out on the floor in front of the wall of windows looking out over the bay, pity she didn't have a fireplace. A sunrise walk along the beach...
She could picture a thousand different ways to say the words. She didn't have any doubts that he would say yes. Still, the whole idea of marriage set a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Jim was a good man. She loved him. He wasn't like the men who had ruined the lives of her mother's friends, as a child, hearing the same stories over and over again. Daughters raised to be wives and mothers left bewildered and abandoned and helpless by divorce. Or the ones who left home, trying to break free of those constrained roles, leaving behind husbands who didn't understand and resented them.
He certainly wasn't like Karl, the last man she'd been fairly serious about, Karl with his ego and insecurities, who'd chipped pieces off her soul with a casually cruel remark. Always building himself up and trying to make her less.
He was Jim and he was wonderful and she loved him. It was time to get married. They'd proved that they could live with each other, that they had a real commitment. That this was going to be forever, for both of them. It did make her a little nervous, but it also made her feel warm inside. The thought of standing up in front of their family and friends and pledging themselves to each other for all time, formally announcing that they were a part of each other, family, in a public forum.
God, the wedding. She didn't want a big, fancy wedding... on the other hand the thought of Jim in a tuxedo made her metaphorically lick her lips. He also looked incredibly sexy in his good gray suit and that silvery tie a shade lighter than his eyes. Jim could wear that, and she could wear her cream-colored suit. On the other hand, it would be her only chance to wear a wedding dress... and given what had happened at their first time together, the night of Mimsy's wedding reception, Jim peeling her out of her bridesmaids' dress, Jim had a thing for formal lingerie... petticoats and garters and stockings and all that uncomfortable stuff. Something to consider. Time enough to decide after they were engaged.
Deplaning, her heart leapt when she saw her men through the crowd. Jim was holding a bouquet of 'Blush' roses, white with the palest hint of pink, and Blair standing beside him with Jake in his arms. She quickened her step as Jim had the presence of mind to set the flowers down atop their coats piled on a nearby chair and spread his arms. They closed around her in a strong embrace and they kissed.
Jim's arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss. His hands moved down her back, down over the curve of her rump, tightened on her hips, pulling her closer.
Faintly, over the pounding of her heart, she could hear her brother complain. "Jake, you're not old enough to be watching this." Jim ground his hips into her, and Blair continued, "I'm not old enough to be watching this. And if you two don't cut it out, I'll go get a fire extinguisher."
Jim wasn't showing any signs of stopping, every time she broke away for breath, he captured her mouth again. And he was almost trying to make love to her despite the fact that they were both fully clothed and standing upright in a public place.
She finally managed to push him back a step. "Jim! I'm happy to see you too, but save it 'til we get home, okay handsome?"
"Uhn..." he said, staring at her with glazed, darkened eyes. The tip of his tongue touched his upper lip.
"Wow," she panted. "Haven't seen you like this since Laura McCarthy's parole hearing. You been sniffing around strange women while I was away?"
"No," Blair informed her cheerfully, shifting Jake in his arms. "But I think he's having an affair with the shower-massager."
Jim moved in for one more gentle kiss, and then sighed. "Beau. I've missed you."
"I noticed. Missed you too." She laughed, tracing the line of his jaw with a fingertip. "I'm guessing consorts didn't often leave their sworn sentinel's territory. Missed all of you," she added, turning to Blair and Jake. "Gimmie my little guy."
Blair passed Jake over, and Beau cooed over him, kissing his forehead and sighing with happiness.
"Hey, why don't I take Jake back to the loft, and give you two a little time together?" Blair suggested.
"Oh, no, you don't..." Beau began.
Jim was frowning, and gave a little shake of his head. "I, uh..."
"Come on, you guys definitely need a little quality time to get reacquainted. We'll go get your luggage, and I'll drop you off at your place and take Jake home in the truck."
"You are my favorite brother," Beau told him seriously.
"I'm your only brother."
"Still..." She put her hand on Jim's bicep, rubbed up to his shoulder. He shivered at her touch. "What d'ya say, handsome?"
"Uh, that'd be great." His eyes focused on her, uncertainly. "If you aren't too tired from the flight..."
"I'm good, let's go."
Blair grinned to himself as he let Jim and Beau out at her building. He glanced down at Jake's carseat as he pulled back out into traffic. "So, kiddo, you want a little brother or a little sister? I have a feeling you aren't going to be an only child much longer, the way those two are carrying on."
He got Jake back to the loft and settled in. He knew Jim had been planning some elaborate romantic seduction in a day or two, after Beau had some time to recover from the trip. All of that forgotten in a primal urge...
Once he knew Jake would be quiet for a while, he dug out his research material. There were about as many references to consorts, sentinel's mates, as there were to guides. Not many. But Beau was right, given the role of women in tribal structures, the only time a consort would leave would be against her will... captured by an enemy tribe's raiding party.
The fact that Jim had reacted to her at the airport basically the same way he'd reacted to Laura McCarthy, the jewel thief with a good pheromonal match to him, and had reacted to the female sentinel Alex Barnes in Sierra Verde, that was interesting. He looked at the notes he'd made of Beau and Jim's relationship. Jim had always seemed attracted to her, but it wasn't with that overwhelming obsession.
On the other hand, Beau had let him know the night she and Jim had... done it... the first time, it was pretty wild. It might be significant, or it might not. It was just something he had to assemble into some kind of coherent theory before it was time to sit Jake down and tell him about the birds and the bees and the jaguars.
He put the papers away, and thought about dinner, noticing it was still early. Grinning, he called Megan and invited her over. A good night for the kid test, and no reason he couldn't have a little romance in his life.
Megan came over. In blatant disregard for house rules, Blair put some music on, and they ate on the couch. Washed and dried dishes together. They were settling in for a comfortable necking session when he realized that he hadn't gotten the mail. Their postman got kind of snippy about letting the box get full, and the local post office was actually out of their way. So he excused himself for a moment to run downstairs. When he came back, Jake was crying, and Megan was carrying him to the changing table.
"Oh, I'll do that," Blair said quickly.
"No worries. I've got him."
Blair shrugged, mentally marking that down under the plus column of the kid test, volunteering for diaper duty. He sorted through the mail, his, Jim's, and junk. Megan brought a freshly Pampered Jake back to his crib. She had a faintly puzzled expression as she joined him on the couch.
"Jim's catholic, isn't he?" Megan asked.
Blair blinked at that. "Uh... sort of. He doesn't go to church or anything. Why?"
"I noticed that Jake's not... ah... not..."
Blair grinned, understanding. "Not Jewish?" he teased. "No. Neither is Beau, really. Naomi wasn't really into organized religion. I'm, um, she kind of gave into family pressure with me. You know Naomi, she actually apologized for the surgical alteration without my permission, when I was old enough to understand. But I got interested in the whole heritage thing... so Uncle Nathan and Aunt Adele arranged my bar mitzvah... but I'm not really practicing these days."
"Oh." Megan snuggled in. "So you wouldn't want to raise our kids Jewish?" she asked, casually.
"An understanding of the history and heritage, certainly," Blair began, then her words caught up with him. "Our kids?"
She dimpled at him. "Well, I assume we'll be providing Jake with a guide eventually." She gave a dramatic sigh. "I've always been interested in preserving endangered species..."
Blair laughed, pulling her down on the couch with him.
~ End ~
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Page last updated 8/15/03.