Pet Fly and other own them. We just play with them and have to give them back at the end of the day.

GreenWoman's Treeline is a wonderful piece that stands perfectly on its own. It doesn't need a happy ending. But she wanted one and challenged us to come up with some for her. This is my effort, such as it is.

Major Warnings for language. I tried to balance the dark with hope.

This story is a sequel to: TREELINE by GreenWoman

Stormfront

Blair stared down at the envelope in his hands. Part of him wanted to fling this into the fire. Another wanted to carefully preserve it. He didn't have to read it. He knew in his heart that it was a carefully worded plea for him to come home to Cascade. He knew Jim too well. The damned, anal-retentive jerk.

The wind chased him back inside long before rain began to fall.

Sheila Roberts closed another IAD case file. Sometimes she hated her job. Twenty members of the same class and ten instructors from the academy had been disciplined in some fashioned in the last six months. Five officers had been dismissed. Two had been close to retirement and had lost their pensions. Thankfully no criminal charges had been filed against anyone, yet. The toll on these officers would be felt their entire lives, however.

If Sheila had a suspicious nature, and she did, she would have thought that someone was setting these people up. But there was no evidence of any conspiracy. Everyone of them was guilty. Sheila just didn't understand how IAD got so lucky as to catch them all at such a variety of offenses. It was if someone knew when and where each of them would make there next mistake and made sure IAD officers were there to observe the deed. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Joseph Begelman, you are under arrest for the rape and murder of Sarah Watts," Rafe continued to read the businessman his rights while Henri cuffed him. "Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

"This is an outrage!"

"Sir, do you understand your rights?" Rafe repeated.

"Of course I understand my rights. I want my attorney." Begelman ordered his secretary to call his attorney as Rafe and Brown guided the prominent businessman out of his office out to a waiting squad car.

When the uniformed officers took Begelman away, Henri finally relaxed.

"He won't get out of this one, Hairboy," the partners promised.

Marshall Tuckerman handed his partner, David Cantor, the check from Berkshire Publishing.

"I'm impressed. You managed to get ten million out of Berkshire without taking them to court."

Chancellor Edwards signed her resignation and left it on the big desk. The board of regents had given her twenty four hours to clear her office.

Eddie Parker clutched at the shiv protruding from his ribs. As the world darkened forever he heard a voice whisper "Never touch a guide."

The storm had hit full strength when Blair realized someone was outside. Through the rain he saw a figure standing in the road.

"Jim?"

How had he gotten here? Blair went out into the wind and rain. He limped up to the soaked man standing zoned in his drive. Not even stopping to think, Blair yanked Jim's arm hard.

"You damned idiot. Hell of a time to start acting like a Sentinel again. Get in the fucking house before we both die of exposure, you moron."

Jim followed meekly.

"Stupid Sentinel." Blair stomped into the house and led Jim into his bathroom. He threw a towel at him. "Get out of those wet clothes." Blair took his own towel and began drying off. He had to get Jim warm.

He turned back to find Jim naked and shivering.

So thin.

"My God, Jim. You've starved yourself, too?" He toweled the older man briskly, then wrapped a towel about his waist. He threw the wet clothes and towels in the tub.

They were a matched pair, weren't they? Damaged inside and out.

Blair led Jim back into the main room and pushed him down onto the bed in the corner. He covered Jim with quilts. The Sentinel soon quieted. Blair found a pair of sweats and went to make something hot to drink.

Whether he was ready or not, it was time they talked.

The envelope was lying on the table. Blair snatched it up and opened it angrily.

"Forgive me. You are my light. I love you."

Shit.

He tucked the note back in the envelope and put it safely away.

He took the hot drink to Jim who sat up and took the cup.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Jim whispered "I have news."

So they talked. It was a beginning.

Nothing was fixed, but Blair finally believed that it might just be possible to heal.

End Stormfront by kyanoswolf: kyanoswolf@earthlink.net

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Disclaimer: The Sentinel is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount.