Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are property of Pet Fly Productions.

Thanks go to my best friend Denise who's encouragement and interest in the story made this possible. To Paula, only I could find a Canadian English Major to beta my work, thanks for your patience and support. And lastly to my new friend Dr. Shelly for her medical advise.

07/27/99
Rating/warning: This story is rated R for violence.
Category: Drama

Partners
Part One
by Robin from Florida

The loft was suddenly lit by a large flash of lightning and the windows shook from the thunder that followed. "When is this rain supposed to let up?" Pushing away from the coffee table full of books and papers, Blair looked up to find his partner concentrating on surfing with the remote. Lightning lit the sky again leaving the loft in total darkness. "Great! How am I supposed to get my work done?"

"Try being a cop during this mess. I should probably go in if the power stays out too long." Ellison tried to place the remote on the coffee table but feared it would be lost forever and set it on the end table instead. The sentinel rose and easily navigated the living room on his way to the kitchen for some candles. Blair, not having the Sentinel's heightened sight, was not so lucky, knocking into the coffee table.

"Ow. Sometimes I wish I had some of your senses." Blair grumbled, rubbing his shin.

"Just a second." A match came alive and touched the end of a slightly used candle. Ellison held it so his face was visible to his friend. "Sometimes they do come in handy." The sentinel smiling wickedly through the darkness.

Blair knew Jim could see his puppy dog look as he deliberately misunderstood the subject of conversation. "The candles?" He remembered Jim had given him a lecture about house rules and candles. Jim was about to happily rise to the bait but instead he fell silent and his head tilted to one side. The Guide knew this posture all too well and waited while the Sentinel listened to something beyond his own hearing. "Well? What is it?"

"I hear someone calling for help." Thunder broke his concentration, assaulting his sensitive hearing. His guide was at his side in an instant to assist in any way.

"Jim? You still with me?" The Guide gently placed a hand on Jim's back, in full guide mode.

The Sentinel nodded and started to move towards the door, grabbing his jacket without slowing. "Chief, bring a flashlight."

Blair turned and fished a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and followed.

***

The blowing wind made the rain come down in sheets. The lights, being out all over the neighborhood, made it almost impossible for Blair to see anything. The beam of the flashlight fell on Ellison as he trudged toward the water. The shorter man managed to follow by keeping the flashlight trained on his partner's back. The Sentinel stopped at the water's edge to stand perfectly still, even in the strong wind, and scanned the water.

Blair started searching the water with the flashlight. The ray of the light fell on the water's edge, which was a good foot past its usual bank. The bay bulged from all the rain during the last week. The water swirled onto the grassy edge and Blair mused at how green the grass was even through the murky water.

The sentinel lunged towards the water's edge. Blair automatically followed with the flashlight's beam. It fell on what Jim was reaching for...a small white hand! It was tightly fisted in the grass he'd been admiring.

Jim reached down and grabbed the stiffened hand. Wanting to pull away at the cold touch, he dialed down his tactile senses and determinedly pulled the hand free of its death grip. He reached into the cloudy water, and searched for another hold with which to aid in dragging the body out of the icy water. Something sharp pricked his hand. "Ow!" Using his sight, he made out a small barb, then another. He then saw the wire that strung them together.

"Sandburg, go back to the loft, get the pliers and my gloves. Hurry, get some blankets too, " he barked at the retreating figure. "Call an ambulance."

As the small, pale body emerged from the frozen water more and more barbedwire appeared. "Jesus, what the hell happened," Jim growled as more of the barbs bit into his numbing hands.

When the body came to rest on the cold, hard ground, it started to cough and released the bay from its lungs. A weak groan followed as the barbs dug deeper into the frozen flesh. Jim used his senses to scan for vital signs not wanting to touch the cold form any more then necessary. The sensation was just too revolting even with his tactile senses dialed down. The small form had been completely wrapped in the barbed wire, except for the left arm, which must have been wrenched from its encasement by the looks of the long gashes running down the arm.

Knowing the ex-medic could do nothing else until he had some pliers, he looked up impatiently to find a light beam bouncing towards him.

"I tried to call 911 but the phone's dead. Here." He breathlessly handed Jim his thick winter gloves and the pliers. Blair dropped the blanket at Jim's side and started to put his gloves on but stopped with a gasp as he saw the body for the first time. It was about five-foot something, clad only in jeans, a light shirt and sneakers. The clothing was covered with little red stains where the barbs clung to the skin, the blood having been washed out during its soak in the bay. "What happened?" Blair breathed, unable to move.

"It looks like the work of Bobby B?" The detective grumbled as he looked for a good place to start.

"You mean someone did this on purpose?" The observer squeaked in disbelief.

"It looks like it." Jim snipped at the wires under the left arm where some of them had been broken away. A small groan escaped. Jim flinched but continued, knowing that it was going to get worse when he had to separate the barbs from the clothing.

The left hand suddenly fisted into the grass. Ellison stopped at the movement then realized that Blair was still standing with a look of horror at the sight before him. "Chief?" He tried again with a little more authority in his voice. "Chief, come on I need your help." Without warning the arm tried to drag its body forward letting out a small cry. Blair saw the arm's movement only made the barbs dig in deeper. The Guide dropped to his knees and tried to comfort the person, seeing the dark bruises circling the wrist.

Through the rain, Jim saw Blair's face instantly go white. He's going to be sick. "Are you okay? Chief?" The older man gently placed his hand on Blair's arm.

"Yeah, man. He's just so cold and clammy." Blair answered shakily. Patting his arm, Jim returned to snipping his way down the left side of the figure then up the right side. With that done he carefully peeled the wires off the backside. The figure's struggling increased at the peeling process. Blair placed both hands on his shoulders to keep him still and started to use his 'guide voice' the one he always used on his sentinel.

"It's all right....We're trying to help.... Please stay as still as you can....You're going to be all right....You're safe."

The detective looked up at, you're going to be all right, with a pained look. "Chief, we have to turn him over. Help me." Blair shot him a panicked look but nodded when he saw his partner's reassuring nod. They rolled him over. Blair's eyes shot open in surprise as he came to stare into the face of a woman. What he could see of it. The face was dark and hidden by shoulder length, wet hair that stuck to her face. As he moved the hair away, the darkness of the face did not lighten. The left side of her face was almost black even against the stark whiteness of the pale figure in front of him. There was blood trickling from a deep graze over her left eye.

Ellison finished removing the rest of the offensive material. "Chief, the blanket. Sandburg!" Still staring at the woman, Blair absently handed him the blanket. Ellison carefully wrapped the woman in the blanket and scooped her up. Trying to distract his young friend from the ghastly scene, he commanded, "Chief, lead the way." Blair obeyed, now that the blanket hid the body. He shined the way with the flashlight.

***

Blair held open the door to the loft and followed Jim to his room. Ellison barked, "Chief, the first aid kit and some towels." Blair quickly changed direction, glad of the diversion, and headed for the bathroom.

***

Ellison was busy cutting away her pant leg when he heard Blair's heart skip a beat. He was holding their camping lantern in one hand and the supplies in the other, gaping at the figure on *his* bed. Ellison stopped and went to his friend. "Blair, if you can't do this I understand." He took the lantern out of his friend's trembling hand and placed it on the far nightstand. "Chief?" Blair finally looked at his friend.

Slowly shaking his curly head, he muttered, "How could somebody...."

"I don't know. But we can't worry about that right now. We have to help her." Taking the smaller man's shoulders, he placed himself between the woman and his young friend. "We just have to do everything we can to save her. She'll never make it to the hospital." Looking directly into his eyes, seeing no change, he decided to change tactics. "We're her only chance. If she can't tell us who did this they'll probably get away with it." He felt bad but he knew he needed his partner's help. Blair nodded as the words registered and his horror was replaced with anger at the injustice.

Ellison moved from between them. Seeing the exposed leg covered with lacerations, some more enraged than others, Blair surveyed the rest of her to find red spots covering her from head to toe. "Geez, this is going to take all night." He knelt by the bed and picked up a washcloth.

"Have you got something better to do?" Jim questioned as he sliced up the other pant leg.

"No. That's not what I meant." The young man touched her arm and felt the clamminess and formed a solution. "Do you think it would be better if we put her in the tub? She's freezing and the water can clean the wounds faster?"

Jim was surprised at the great idea. "Go get the water ready. Not too hot." He looked up to find himself alone.

Ellison took off her shoes and socks then turned back to the torso. He was unbuckling the belt when he noticed, on the right side of the belt, that there were two well-worn vertical grooves dug into the leather. He made a mental note to look at it again as he continued to get her out of her frozen, wet clothes. Her pants hit the floor as Blair returned. "Chief. Help me. Hold her."

The panic returned to Blair's face but he didn't pause for a second. She needs us and I'm going to do everything I can to help get the bastards who did this. He went around the bed and held her shoulders to allow the older man to work her shirt off. Ellison carefully lifted her out of the blanket and exited the room.

***

"Chief, get her legs." He slowly lowered the lifeless body into the tepid water, Blair holding her ankles. As her body registered the sudden warmth, her eyes popped open. Petrified, she started to wildly fight the men holding her. Jim quickly put her in the rest of the way and grabbed the attacking right hand. Blair had his hands full holding her legs down in the water. He started using his 'guide voice', surprising himself, as well as Ellison at how soft and soothing it came out. Her strength ebbed and her eyes closed as she slowly slid into the water.

***

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Blair held a dry washcloth over the large gash over her eye. His thermal long johns and a T-shirt she wore started to reveal the locations of the barbs with spots of blood.

Ellison entered, looking disgustedly at his cell phone and carrying a pot of boiling water. "The only thing working is the gas stove." He noticed the concern in his partner's face. The older friend smiled slightly, marveling at how compassionate his friend was. The way the horror on his expressive face had changed when he mentioned that they were her only chance of surviving. His guide was good at saving people. He had saved him once, well, several times.

Blair whispered almost begging. "Jim. The bleeding's getting worse."

"I figured as much." He crossed the room to the other side of the bed and placed the pot on the floor. "As her body warms up...." He motioned to Blair to lift the washcloth. Jim examined it and placed a bandage on it.

"Jim is it a bullet wound?"

"Yep." The sentinel increased his tactile senses and started to examine her, first checking her temperature. She was no longer cold and clammy. An hour in the tub had changed that, but she was starting to get *too* warm. He ran his hands down to her legs feeling for any broken bones.

"The way she was kicking I think her legs are fine." Ellison smiled at his friend's returning humor but continued to examine her legs. Although she had dark bruising around both ankles nothing seemed to be broken. He reached her abdomen and rib cage and gently lifted the T-shirt to reveal the dark purple bruising all along her left side. Blair winced at the sight. "Do you think that happened in the water?" Blair questioned curiously, while staring at the damage.

"No. Probably coming into contact with a fist." She must have been beaten for hours or the person was a psycho, Jim thought to himself as he ran his fingers over her right ribs with only soft moans answering the probing. He carefully turned his attention to the angry left side and hesitated. He whispered softly to his unconscious patient, "I'm sorry," and started running his fingers over the ribs. Almost instantly she tried to move away from the probing but didn't wake. Startled, Blair took her right hand in his and held firmly, remembering her hitting Ellison in the tub.

"Three are cracked, the rest are very tender. She shouldn't have trouble breathing. Although she's going to wish she didn't have to for the next couple of weeks." He continued his exam over the hand and arm Blair was holding. "You're awfully quiet, Chief?" He said, pausing a minute to check on his partner.

Blair stared at the woman shaking his head. "Who could do something like this?"

"One sick bastard."

Blair was surprised at the bitterness in Jim's voice and realized that the situation was hard for the seasoned officer as well. Ellison moved to duplicate his actions on the left arm, carefully avoiding the angry gashes running down her arm. He barely touched her shoulder when his senses signaled a problem, just before her head jerked off the pillow, this time her eyes were open. Her breath caught and the hand Blair had been holding broke free to clutch her damaged ribs. She closed her eyes against the pain and fell back onto the pillow.

After a long moment she opened her eyes, trying to blink the fuzzy vision away. Her first image was that of Ellison, his strong muscular build with the strong jaw and brush cut hair, quite handsome. She was in a panic but was afraid to move for the pain it would cause. Her gaze caught onto the intense blue eyes that showed only concern. She willed her eyes to search him. She found him holding unusually still. His stillness reassured her that he was in no way aggressive. She started to relax when she felt the bed shift near her right hip. She turned to see a stark difference. A beautiful young face with soft features framed by long curly hair. He warmed her instantly with his soft smile. He whispered, "It's okay, we're trying to help." She relaxed a bit more knowing she must be dead because she was looking at an angel.

Hesitantly, Ellison spoke. "We're going to have to fix your shoulder, Miss."

She hated to look away from the beautiful face as the reality of her situation sank in.

"What do you mean fix her shoulder?" A stern look crossed Blair's face. He knew he was not going to like the answer to his question.

"It's dislocated," Jim spoke as she closed her eyes and tried to slow her accelerating heart.

'I'm not dead but I'm going to wish I were. Where am I?' She tried to answer the question but her thoughts were sluggish and she was so tired. Her head was pounding and she hoped she would just pass out.

"Chief, you're going to have to help."

"What? Me?" The panic in the beautiful man's voice made her open her eyes.

Great, if he's freaked I don't stand a chance. She moved her hand from her ribs to touch Blair's hand, gently squeezing it "What's your name?" She whispered weakly. He looked at her with surprise. 'Good at least my voice is working.' She thought.

"Blair, Blair Sandburg," he stuttered. She smiled at his name thinking it was perfect for the man sitting next to her.

"Blair. Can you help me sit up?"

"Maybe you shouldn't with your ribs."

Jim, already at her side, knew what she was trying to do. He slid his strong arm under her neck and back waiting for his partner to follow suit.

"Blair, with your help we can do this," she gently coaxed. With great reluctance he slid his free hand under her arm and they gently sat her up. She gasped then moaned at the pain the movement caused. She freed her hand and wrapped it around the young man's waist leaning heavily on him. She faced away from him, resting her spinning head on his shoulder closing her eyes to the swaying room, trying to catch her breath. The Sentinel was quietly monitoring her breathing and heart rate to know when to continue.

She started breathlessly, "Blair...you're going to have to hold me... while your friend...." From the way her arm was throbbing she couldn't bring herself to say what had to be done. "Blair? Can you do that?" His hesitation made her try a different approach. Ellison saw the change by the shadow of a small smile that crossed her face but quickly faded due to the pain it caused. "I'm sure you've had lots of practice giving girls big hugs." Although she was a little older than Blair the thought of an embrace, even under these circumstances, was quite appealing. Her eyes were still closed, but Ellison was sure of another smile, even with the split lip and the swollen eye hidden under the bandage. Ellison gave out a small chuckle, which made her open her eyes to look directly at him. "So he does have a lot of practice?" Becoming tired and dizzy again she closed her eyes. "Blair, come on sweetie, help me here.... Please." She stiffened slightly when she felt his arm snake around her waist.

"Just a bit higher, Chief," Ellison directed. Blair looked up at his friend, searching for strength. Jim gave him a small smile of encouragement and then nodded. Blair slowly moved his arm up her body and came to rest under her shoulder blade.

She moved her lips towards Blair's ear and whispered, "Don't let go." Lowering her head to his shoulder, grabbing tightly to the back of his shirt, she braced herself. Moving into position, Ellison gently but firmly grasped her upper arm. He then placed his other hand on top of Blair's arm. Ellison looked at Blair and nodded 'are you ready'. Blair hesitated but trusted his partner and nodded. Without hesitation the ex-medic pulled and a loud pop sounded indicating that her arm was back in place.

Jim heard his partner gasp and his heart beat jump as he started to panic at the sudden limpness of the body in his arms. "Blair, it's okay," he soothed as he gently tried to pry the woman out of the young man's shaking embrace. "Chief, she's going to be okay. She just needs to sleep." Jim helped Blair lay her back onto the bed. "Why don't you make us some tea." He patted Blair on the back for reassurance. Blair swallowed hard then slowly rose from the bed and left the room.

Ellison pulled a triangular piece of cloth from the first aid kit and gently lifted her arm and slipped it around her neck. As he tied the knot he noticed his own hands shaking. Tough Guy, he chided.

***

The lantern was turned down low, casting long shadows around the room. Blair sat in his desk chair, quietly sipping a cup of tea, watching his patient.

Ellison entered with a bowl of cool water. He sat on the bed between the woman and his friend and turned to Blair. "How are you doing with this?"

Blair shrugged. "Jim, how could someone do this?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Sandburg you don't know what happened? This sort of treatment is the result of betrayal, she could have stolen his drugs or money?" He knew the remark would upset his young partner. Though Blair had been exposed to the dark side of human nature since becoming an observer it was never in his bed.

"Jim!" The professor lowered his voice. "Jim. Nobody deserves this. Nobody."

"You're right, Chief. But we just don't know who she is or what happened. She could be a cold blood killer."

He snorted in disbelief. "Oh, come on, man."

"Sandburg what are you basing your judgment on? That she called you sweetie? Half the South refer to each other as cutie pie or sweetie"

Shaking his head, Blair still not convinced that the small body in his bed could be a killer.

"Blair you just don't know who she is and until then you have to be careful." He had made his point and knew his partner would at least think about the possibility. However he found his friend's heart rate increasing and knew he was starting to become afraid again. He tried to lighten the moment. "Good thing I'm a detective." He softened his voice with reassurance. "That way we can find out that she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Blair just shook his head in disbelief that his partner could accuse her of being a killer then two seconds later be gently applying a cold compress to her now sweaty brow.

She moaned and started to roll towards the cool touch. "Shh. Lie back." Jim tried to stop her but didn't have the nerve to place his hand on her injured shoulder.

Chanting weakly. "Hurts. Hurts." Ellison leaned over her as Blair circled the bed. "Needles."

"Where?" Blair pulled down the blanket as Ellison raised the back of her shirt.

"Needles." She mumbled into Ellison's chest as she grabbed his shirt. Using his heightened sight he saw a small barb left in one of the wounds.

"Chief, get the tweezers." He scanned for more barbs. Blair returned and hastily handed him the tweezers. She groaned with relief when Ellison snipped one of the barbs and dropped it into the water bowl.

"I thought we got these in the tub." Blair questioned.

"I guess we missed some." He snipped another. Her grip tightened on his shirt. He snipped the last one and started to move away from her. The older man realized that she was resting on his chest with her hands tightly gripping his shirt. Showing Blair he couldn't get up, he asked, "Can you get some more water, she's burning up?" Blair smiled and left the room. Cold blooded killer, yeah right, man.

***

Blair entered his room for the umpteenth time with a bowl of cool water and paused at the door to take in the scene. Ellison was stretched out along the edge of the bed, his head held up by a pillow stuffed under it. His arms carefully folded around the small figure clutching him and a soft steady snoring escaped his parted lips. The man could sleep anywhere. Blair circled the bed and squeeze out the washcloth and placed it over her sweaty brow. The ghastly gash was now showing as the soggy bandage had long been discarded. She stirred slightly and the Sentinel awoke. "Jim, why don't you let me do that. You said you'd have to go in tomorrow, uh today. The power's been out for hours."

He looked around curiously, realizing he was holding a woman instead of the warm bear cub he had been dreaming about.

"Uh, yeah, okay." He slowly rolled her off of him and slid out from under her. She moaned and reached out then moaned again as pain shot through her left arm. "Bobby...no." she groaned.

Blair stopped in his tracks. Jim's speech about her being a cold blooded killer now stopped him from being able to comfort the woman. "Jim? Who is Bobby B? I've heard the name before but I can't place it." Jim took the pillow and placed it where he had been and lowered her onto the substitute.

"He's big into drugs. Major supplier in Cascade. We've never been able to get enough evidence on him. God knows we've tried..." He trailed off, not wanting to get to the grizzly part. But Sandburg, like a dog with a bone, pushed.

"And?"

"And. What?"

"And why did you say it looked like his work?"

"They say." Although he had seen it a couple of months ago first hand. "He has a trademark of wrapping his victims in barbed wire thus the name 'Bobby the Barbed-wire Baron'." His expression of 'don't look at me I didn't make it up' finished the conversation. Blair knew he didn't want to hear anymore and turned his attention to the washcloth and dunked it, yet again, then placed it back on her head. Ellison yawned heartily. "Go on, Big Guy, go to bed or you'll be a bear the rest of day." Ellison smiled at the bear comment and went to bed.

***

Ellison woke and automatically looked over at the clock on his nightstand seeing only the maroon colored display where large red numbers were supposed to announce the time. Damn, it's still out. He looked around hoping the brightness of the loft would tell him the time. But the loft was gray. He raised his hand and focused on his trusty watch, which displayed 8:30 am. "Oh great," he moaned and slowly rolled out of bed. As he padded down the stairs he sent out his senses and found two heartbeats coming from Blair's room. From the respiration he knew they were both sleeping. He pushed the door open fully to see his roommate, sitting on the chair, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest. Sandburg's head was buried in his chest as he softly snored. Ellison smiled. He's going to be sore if he slept like that all night. He tapped him on his shoulder. Blair snorted awake and grabbed his neck at the sudden stiffness.

"Did you get any sleep?" Ellison whispered.

"Not much." Blair rose and stretched. "Hey what time is it, man?"

"8:30." He whispered over his shoulder.

"You're going to be late. I'll make breakfast while you get ready."

"I think we'll have to settle for cold cereal. We'll have to use the milk before it goes bad." Jim suggested as they left the room.

Ellison quickly showered and dressed, not because he was late but because there was no hot water. Blair handed him a bowl of some kind of whole grain something as he passed to the table. Blair remained to attend to his brewing tea. "Chief." Jim said as he crunched around his cereal, "Get the sleeping bags and we'll take her to the hospital."

Sandburg knew she should see a doctor as soon as possible but the thought of her crying out in pain as they brought her to the hospital was too much. "Jim, her fever broke a couple of hours ago, and she's sleeping so peacefully. Can't we just let her sleep a couple more hours?" He pleaded. "Then take her to the hospital." He added.

The thought of driving her in his bumpy truck to the hospital where she would lay unattended for hours in a drafty hospital was too much. "All right. Are you sure you'll be all right by yourself?" He remembered his young friend's reaction of the night before and couldn't help but be concerned.

"We'll be fine. She'll probably just sleep and I've got my work and plenty of tea." He poured himself a cup of the just brewed, amber liquid.

"As soon as I can get away, I'll be back."

"Okay, Mom." He ducked the swat heading his way as Ellison headed for the sink with the half-eaten cereal. The sink was full of the woman's discarded cloths. "Hey, was there a wallet in there?" Blair asked looking curiously over Jim's shoulder.

Shaking his head, "No. There was some money." Ellison replied, nodding to the soggy bills and some change sitting next to the sink.

"So it wasn't robbery," Blair thought out loud.

Jim smiled. He had discounted the robbery theory last night when he found the money. "I'm going to make a detective out of you yet." Jim grinned knowing the comment would get a rise out of his partner.

"Oh, thanks, Jim." Sandburg's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just what I want to be, a detective. One's enough in this house," he muttered under his breath, knowing the Sentinel could hear. Being so caught up in his retort, he didn't see the swat coming his way.

Jim reached into a kitchen cabinet to retrieve a couple of plastic bags. He proceeded to place the jeans and then the shirt in their separate bags. The detective scanned the belt again, straining to make sense of the marks. He was in desperate need of a more substantial breakfast, a cup of hot coffee, and a doughnut. He decided that he would study the belt later after he got some caffeine. He placed the belt in another bag, and grabbing his jacket, was ready to leave. He gathered up the *evidence*. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"We'll be fine." Blair called after him, trying to reassure his roommate.

It was Jim's turn to mumble. "Right. Blair? A girl sleeping in his bed? I must be nuts to worry." He closed the door softly behind him, not looking back because his smile would have given it away.

***

Ellison entered the deserted bullpen, and headed straight for his coffee cup. Simon met him at his desk. "Hey, Jim. Glad you came in, we've got a real mess around here."

"I figured as much, that's why I came in. What do you need me to do?"

"Well," Simon hesitated. He knew Jim was not going to like this.

"Oh no. Simon, not phones."

The captain slowly nodded.

"Oh, Simon, you know I hate them," Jim whined. "Put me on parking duty. I'll even get in my uniform and you can put me on patrol." He was begging now. "Anything but phones."

"Sorry, Jim."

"Prisoner processing?" The detective added hopefully.

"Jim. Dispatch is short and the phones are going crazy. You know how it gets when the power goes out. All the available officers are out right now, there is no one left to get the phones. I'm up here covering this department by myself.

"I'll help you," Ellison tried again.

"JIM."

He gave it up. "Oh all right do you have any coffee in there?" The sentinel asked, motioning to Bank's office.

"Yeah, sure. It's Raspberry Jubilee."

'If I have to do phones I can at least drink coffee while doing it. Now to find breakfast, where's that doughnut lady.' His hunt for breakfast was interrupted when Simon noticed the plastic bags.

"Hey, Jim what's all this?"

"Well funny you should ask. Since you're the Major Crimes department all by yourself, you need to jump right on this one." He replied, as he led his captain to his office for some much-needed coffee. This should take a while. Good and I don't have to do phones. Yes!

***

The room was crowded with people coming and going. Every desk had someone behind it with a phone in his or her ear, struggling to hear what was being said, trying not to scream back at the caller. This was the heart of the Cascade Police Department.

Way in the back, the very last desk, the desk closest to the coffee pot, the desk that had been dragged closer to the coffee pot before the detective sat behind it, was Ellison. He really had to admire Simon's set up. Having the coffee at arm's length came in handy when you had to be stuck at a desk for hours on end, answering stupid phone calls that the vindictive dispatchers sent your way. What did I ever do to them? Ellison questioned as the phone rang for the hundredth time. "Cascade Police Department. Ellison." He listened and instantly recognized the voice. "Mrs. Turner," he interrupted. "Mrs. Turner?" He spoke louder, trying to overcome the noise from the other end of the phone. "Ma'am. We can't arrest them, Ma'am. The workers are trying to help you." He felt himself becoming very frustrated. "Ma'am. We can't arrest them because their saws are making too much noise." He was screaming into the phone now, "they're trying to get to your front door." He rolled his eyes. Thank god, he prayed as he heard the saws shut down and voices coming through the door on the other end. He hung up the phone.

Ellison shook his head and scooped up his third doughnut, finishing it off. He scanned the room, as he reached for the coffee pot. He spotted a very nervous police officer looking around the room. He noticed that his uniform was quite loose and he had a couple of Band-Aids on his fingers as he fiddled with his tie. I wonder how my uniform would fit now? I would be glad to try it on if it got me out here. He smiled, remembering his pleas to his captain. The officer's eyes met his. Ellison thought he saw a flash of terror in them, but the officer's attention was now directed at the man coming in the room. He followed the man's gaze after noting his name tag, which read 'Rivers'. His gaze stopped on Brown. Brown scoured the room, then his eyes lit up as he spotted Ellison in the corner and started towards him. Jim looked back at the officer, but the man was gone.

"Hey, how's it going?" Brown asked extra cheerfully as he looked at the miserable detective.

"Don't ask. What have you got?"

"Simon sent these." He dropped the folder in front of him. "He said to tell you," he paused, remembering the precise words because he didn't know what they had meant. "Major crimes is right on top of things. How are the phones?" Brown finished, looking confused, hoping for enlightenment.

"I shouldn't have made the crack about his new coffee," Ellison grumbled.

Brown smiled and moved his attention to the folder Ellison was scanning.

"Is that her?"

The first black and white picture was of two people with their arms around each other, their lips locked in a very passionate kiss. It looked like they were in a park of some kind. He couldn't recognize her in that one. He flipped to the next one. It showed them still in the embrace, but now they were looking in the general direction of the camera, laughing. Even now with all the damage to her face, it was definitely the woman in Blair's bed.

"Yes. Who is she?" He asked absently, still studying the picture.

Her name is Crystal Wainwright. She was Bobby's newest squeeze. He'd been seeing her for a little over a month. Pretty hot and heavy from what I heard." Brown's abrupt silence and the use of past tense made Ellison look up.

"There's more," he nodded to the folder. The next picture was that of Bobby laid out near the water's edge, his eyes staring blankly. There was a bullet hole in his head. It looked as if he had been dragged from the water.

"When did this happen?"

"They found him this morning. They also found a couple of his goons, the same way.

"I've got to go." Ellison got up suddenly, realizing that Blair was alone with her.

"Simon thought you'd say that," Brown shouted at Ellison's rapidly retreating back. "He said be careful."

***

The lights in the living room flickered on as well as the TV. The sudden brightness woke Blair. He was sprawled over the big couch with papers everywhere. Just as his foggy mind focused on where he was and why he was on the couch looking at a snowy TV, he heard a muffled scream from his bedroom. "No. Tony. No."

Tony? He thought as he quickly closed the distance. The screaming abruptly turned to soft sobbing, just before Blair burst into the room. Seeing no one but the woman he knelt by the bed and placed his hand on her forehead. Her eyes opened, and she looked around. "Where am I?"

"You're safe," he smiled.

Slowly remembering, she asked, "You're Blair?"

He nodded, still grinning.

"How long have I been here?"

"A day."

She tried to move, but her entire body protested. She changed her mind and leaned back into the pillow. "Relax, you're safe here."

"Where's here?"

"The loft. We found you near by." Blair decided he shouldn't go into too many details, not just yet. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded. He went to get some soup. She tried to move again, very slowly. She inventoried all the aches and pains and shuddered at the long list. 'Ankles, wrists, left side and shoulder *big time*, left arm, the head, the face too. Geez, what a mess.' She slowly moved her legs over the side of the bed, careful not to enrage her muscles any more than necessary. That accomplished, she used her good arm to push herself to a sitting position. She studied the long johns spotted with blood, then the T-shirt. She lowered her head into her hand and saw the bandage around her wrist and left arm. Her head was pounding. 'What?' She felt the bandage and had to see the damage for herself.

Blair stopped in the doorway surprised to see her sit up. "You shouldn't be up."

"I'm all right. Can you help me to the bathroom?" 'Hopefully it's not too far,' she thought.

"Sure." He didn't know what to do, until she reached her arm up and put it around his waist. She rose with a slight moan as Blair's arm closed around her waist.

As they entered the bathroom she looked into the mirror in front of her. Is that me? Her reflection was unfamiliar to her. It can't be. She let go of Blair's waist to take the bandage off her face. It revealed the nasty gash running over her left eyebrow.

"Jim thought it might be a gun shot wound?" Sandburg offered, not sure what to say.

She nodded then burst into tears. Blair turned her away from the mirror, and gently pulled her in as she buried her head in his shoulder. "Get me out of here," she sobbed into his shirt. He guided her toward his room but she didn't want to go back there. "Please not yet." He smoothly changed direction and headed to the kitchen. He carefully lowered her into the closest chair. Blair poured her a glass of orange juice, constantly watching her for any change. Her sobbing slowly eased, without looking up she took the glass. "Thank you. Ah. Blair do you have any aspirin around here?"

"Oh sure, be right back." He disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a small white bottle. "Here," he said, dropping two of them into her hand. She washed them down with the juice.

"Thank you."

You're welcome," he smiled and then went into the kitchen to take care of the soup. Blair stopped stirring the soup in mid motion. He didn't want to pressure or upset her so he asked the wall in front of him. "What's your name?"

Her body stiffened. Her mind started to race, trying to remember. They found me. Do they know who I am? They can't? If they knew I'd be in jail. Wouldn't I? She whispered her name. "Jo".

Satisfied his patient didn't have amnesia he continued to stir. Blair placed a bowl in front of her with some crackers, then sat across from her and nibbled on a cracker. "How did you get into this mess?"

"Blair, please, can we do this later. My head. I just can't..." Her tear filled eyes met his and he melted. "All right. Eat." She took a spoonful, seeing that he was still full of questions. She looked around trying to find something to change the subject. She spotted a stack of school books on the edge of a table near the door. "What are you studying?" He smiled at the subject change but decided to humor her. "I'm a student at the University. I'm an anthropologist."

"And what does a student Anthropologist do?" Seeing his enthusiasm rise, she knew she could finish her soup without any unwanted questions.

The door opened and Blair turned towards it. She dropped her spoon and reached under the sling for *air* just beside her bruised ribs. She lowered her arm hoping the sling would hide her reaction.

Ellison noticed her movements but let it go, for now. "That smells good Chief. Is there any more?" Blair jumped up and made a second bowl as Jim got a beer then took the chair across from her, studying her the entire time.

Blair made the introductions. "Jim, this is Jo."

Playing along Ellison smiled. Jo smiled in return and raised her hand to shake his. Shaking it gently, his senses confirmed what he knew, she was hiding something.

Her head was really pounding now and she knew this conversation was going to get intense very quickly. Her eyes dropped to her empty bowl. "Blair I'm getting awfully tired, and the aspirin isn't working. Could you help me?"

"Sure." He dashed rounded the chair to her good side and gently helped her up. Without warning, the pounding in her head turned to thundering.

They got half way to Sandburg's room when Ellison decided to play his hand. "I thought your name was Crystal."

Blair turned his head to question his partner, but didn't get the chance. He knows! She gasped. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped into unconsciousness. The sudden weight caught Blair off guard. All he could do was protect her head from crashing onto the floor. Ellison was on his feet. He swept her up and carried her to the bed.

"What the hell was that all about?" Blair angrily questioned.

"Her name is Crystal Wainwright. She's Bobby B's girlfriend."

"So? Did you have to scare her half to death?"

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"Sure." Blair sounded unconvinced.

"Sandburg, Bobby B was found dead this morning in the bay. He died of a bullet wound to the head." He carefully watched his partner's reaction.

"You don't think that she...?"

Ellison interrupted. "From her reaction at the table, she carries a gun regularly."

"What are you talking about?" Sandburg's tone was confused but still angry.

"When I entered the loft she reached for a gun under her left arm, just like I do." He duplicated the motion he saw her make when he entered the loft.

"So? That doesn't mean she killed him."

"No, but it sure makes her a suspect."

He was okay with the word suspect. He had met a lot of suspects. Very few where guilty. It was okay that she was a suspect. Suspect was good. Murderer, that was a different word. Never mind, Jim said suspect. Blair covered her up.

***

"Tony?"

Blair was shaking her gently. She woke with a gasp, grabbing her ribs as they objected. She shrugged off his hand and sat up. Knowing she was upset he went to the chair to give her some space. "Are you okay?" He inquired, trying to get her to look at him so that he could give her his best reassuring smile.

"Is he here?" She questioned without looking up.

"No. He's very sorry about what happened." He tried again to get her to look at him.

"Sure. How did he know my name, was it on the TV or something?"

"No. He's a police officer, Detective James Ellison." Her head shot up at the information, fear in her eyes. "I'm his partner."

"His partner, I thought you were an Anthro...what ever?"

"I am but I'm also an observer with the Cascade Police Department."

This is not good. "How did he know my name?"

Silence.

"Blair? Please tell me." Panic started to show as she begged.

Not knowing how to start he just blurted it out. "Bobby B is dead." He watched for a response. She just nodded. 'She knew?' He continued slowly. "Evidently the police had been watching him. They had some pictures of you with him." She seamed to relax a little.

"Do you think Detective Ellison will tell the police I'm here?" She watched him carefully.

"Yes, he already has." Blair was a little confused by the question.

She started to panic again, throwing the covers off. She swung her legs off the bed holding tightly to her ribs. "I've got to get out of here." Blair tried to stop her and hold her up at the same time. She looked at him with terrified eyes. "Please, Blair, I'm in terrible danger. Please let me go."

She was just a suspect? Wasn't she? He loosened his grip. She passed him as she went toward the door.

"Wait," he yelled from the bedroom. She stopped to look back as she grabbed the door knob to freedom. "Here put these on, you'll freeze dressed like that." The young man emerged carrying a pair of sweats. She looked down at what she was wearing and shyly agreed. "Here sit down and I'll help you. He helped her with the pants and carefully pulled the top over her head then adjusted the sling. He got her sneakers and two jackets that were next to the door. He tied her shoes and helped her into one of the jackets. She smiled at his kindness. I can do without the other one but this one is just too cute.

"Thanks, Mom," she grinned, touching some stray strands of his curly hair. He almost lost it as the phrase he had always used on his friend was now being used on him.

Chuckling, he turned to the sink and retrieved her money. "Here, we may need this."

"What is this we stuff?"

"I'm coming with you. Remember I'm your mom." He smiled, put on his jacket and helped her to the door. "Besides I can't let Jim's suspect just walk away. He'd kill me."

Continue on to Part Two...