Rated: probably PG - R
Warnings: Blair angst galore, AU-land, this sure isn't Kansas (or Washington) anymore.

Blair Sandburg looked a little askance at the officer who held the door open for him to enter the CPD. The man would not meet his eyes even as Blair thanked him, he just looked at the posters on the bulletin board. Maybe he had a bad breath morning? "Thanks, anyway, man."

Blair approached the elevator as the bell dinged. He sidled to avoid the sure rush of officers on their way to a service call. All talking ceased as Officer Toni Brandon recognized him. He waved, "Hi...", but she didn't answer. Toni began to nudge her fellow travelers, and all chatter abruptly stopped. They filed silently out in a line, all keeping their heads down or turned away from any eye contact. Now, what's going on, here?

Blair called, "What's go--" but the officers all skittered away around the corners or out the main doors before he could expect an answer.

He stepped in and punched the button for Major Crimes' floor. If this is one of H or Rafe's practical jokes, well...

Blair rushed through the doors and nearly skidded into Jim's desk when he found Simon sitting there, case folders spread out before him, speaking with someone on the phone.

"Simon!" he panted, a little uneasy, at finding the Captain at their desk. "What are you doing out here? Where's Jim?"

Simon dropped the phone, and shot to his feet stiffly. "I--I--this is my---he's in his office---sorry--"

Blair was dumbfounded. He could literally hear that microscopic pin fall onto the floor of Major Crimes. He swivelled around, his jaw dropping as everyone including Henri, Rafe, Joel, and Megan scraped back their chairs and stood like soldiers in a parade. Henri had a gangbanger suspect, probably in the paperwork process of booking, but the punk hadn't been forced to stand...he had jerked up, even pulling up his jeans to his normal waistline...now, they wouldn't involve a criminal in a prank, would they? No, 'course not. What the devil?

Phones kept ringing, printers whirring, there were stifled coughs, but no one moved. Not a muscle.

Blair tried to laugh, a little heh-heh that just would not make it past his choking throat. "Jim?"

"In his office, sir!" Rafe answered, going into a parade-rest stance.

"JIM!" Blair yelled toward Simon's office as he stormed through the door. "What in the hell--"

Blair faltered as he noticed the change in decor--crossbows and swords and the biggest hunting knives Blair had ever seen adorned the walls. No more of Simon's angels or books...it was just Jim behind a desk...a bare desk...Jim, but a different Jim, not the man with whom he was intimate, no.

Captain James Ellison stood to welcome his Guide, a dangerous smile causing his ear-to-lip scar to twitch. "I thought you were going to sleep in, Chief, before picking up little Bonita from Maya."

Blair stumbled back into the visitor's chair. Jim shot out his arm to hold him steady. "Aw,sweetheart, something wrong?" Jim kissed him, then nuzzled into his curls, weaving his fingers through them, bring tufts of them to his nose, breathing deeply.

Blair forced himself out of this stranger's arms, breaking the hold upon his hair. Jim glared at him now, icily, coldly. He advanced on Blair, bunching Blair's shirt in his fists, throwing him into the wall.

Blushing and panting, and wondering what he should do or say, if words would even get past his frozen throat, Blair patted Jim's shoulders, then let his fingers glide up to cup his cheeks.

Harshly whispering, "Who the hell are you, and what have you done to my Guide? You thought this replica could fool me?" he yelled toward the ceiling.