Two Birds with One Stone by Rae Evans

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Back to Part 2

SVS-19 Two Birds with One Stone by Rae Evans, Part 3

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Monday

The paramedics reassured Jim that their patient was fine and that the trip to Cascade General was really just a precaution. They were confident he didn't have a concussion, and apart from bruises and abrasions, the only real cause for concern was the damage to his throat. So it was that the next morning a subdued and almost silent Blair Sandburg followed his sentinel through the door to the loft, took a bottle of water from the fridge and flopped down on the couch, the picture of dejection.

"Chief, I thought the doc said you should go straight to bed?"

Blair held the bottle of water over his head and waggled it to indicate his intentions.

"Okay, Chief, but then straight to bed."

Jim heard a sigh and smiled. He knew Blair was wired; a combination of fear, righteous indignation and the comedown from an adrenalin high that hits you after a near death experience. Jim was exhausted. He had accompanied Blair to the hospital, explaining to him on the way that desk sergeant Sydney had been found dead in the cell next to Blair's. He had been dead an hour or so. The younger man paled at the news, realizing that one of the sets of footsteps he had heard must have been the murderer depositing the body. Jim had not given out any more information, respectful of Blair's state and the fact that whatever was said would be overheard by the paramedics. Now, though, he knew Blair would fight him over the doctor's instructions until he had all the details. Jim leaned over the back of the couch.

"Tea?" he asked.

Blair shook his head, obviously content with water. Jim felt the need for caffeine and soon had his hands wrapped round a large mug of hot, black coffee. He sat on the coffee table and examined the man on the couch, who was now sitting back, eyes closed, hands held loosely in his lap, cradling the bottle of water. The lines around his wrists were starting to bruise. They looked red and raw and would look worse before they got better. Blair wasn't sleeping; his heart beat was just a little too fast for that. Jim took in all the details; the pale face, the smudges of dark under both eyes, the circle of bandage around the throat he loved to nibble and suck and the butterfly strips over the left eye. One eye opened and surveyed him back. Jim smiled, that eye said so much. Then both eyes were open and Blair had pushed himself into a more upright position. He brought the bottle of water to his lips.

"Tell," he whispered and then swallowed two mouthfuls of water easing the pain of speaking even that word.

Jim knew that Blair would not rest without the information. He explained all that happened since Blair had been arrested, the information that Rafe and Brown had uncovered and the room at Hildred's. Stopping to sip his coffee, Jim took Blair's raised eyebrow as an instruction to continue.

"As soon as you are settled I am heading back to the station to interrogate Hildred. I wanted to wait until forensics had got a chance to go through the stuff we got from his place."

Blair nodded, his eyes fighting to stay open.

"Come on, Chief, let's get you to bed."

There was no fight left in Blair. What had fuelled his anger only minutes before now left him drained and tired. Jim could read the shifting emotions and had been through the same thing himself numerous times. He soon had Blair upstairs, undressed and in bed. Blair was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Returning upstairs with a fresh bottle of water which he placed on the bedside table, Jim dropped a kiss on Blair's forehead. A small smile ghosted across Blair's face. Jim wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with Blair, but he shook himself, put on his game face and walked downstairs, ready to interview a murdering bastard.

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Checking with forensics first, he had been informed that the detailed plans and records Hildred had kept were enough to clear Blair and put Hildred on Death Row. Everything had been documented, from the recruiting of Ashcroft to the buying of McCluskey and Hildred's own attempt at murdering Blair. The plan had been to strangle Blair and then stage it so that it looked like he had committed suicide with his own bootlaces. It was a plan that was complex and simple all at the same time and it came so close to succeeding that it frightened Jim. Taking that fear, Jim walked to Interrogation Room 4, turning and twisting those feelings until they became a solid mass in his stomach, fuelling his determination and anger. Before he could get to Hildred, he was interrupted by Taggart.

"Jim, McCluskey has lawyered up, he isn't saying anything."

"It doesn't matter, Joel. We have enough from Hildred's place to put him away for a long time."

"Good. How's Blair?" the older man asked changing the subject.

"He'll be okay."

Jim knew he didn't sound convincing. Pausing in his walk, Jim turned to the black man who had always had a soft spot for Blair right from the beginning.

"It was a close call Joel. Too close."

Joel placed a hand on Jim's arm. It was an unusual gesture for the big man.

He nodded in agreement and added, "But don't turn it into something it isn't, Jim. You know Blair wouldn't want you to and it only belittles what he has achieved to get this far."

Jim accepted the truth behind the statement and knew his thoughts had strayed along the line of wondering if Blair could come back from this, if Jim should let him come back from it. Joel smiled and left Jim in the corridor. Jim resumed his journey to the interrogation room, but more slowly this time, mulling over Joel's words. Blair would make his own decisions and while Jim wanted Blair safe and protected from harm, he knew that what he wanted was not always what Blair wanted. Jim knew he would accept that as he inevitably did.

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The interview had gone strangely from the outset. Hildred had refused a P.D. and was happy to admit pretty much everything. The only time he showed remorse was over the murder of duty Sergeant Sydney. In his words it had been 'sloppy' and 'unnecessary'. He wouldn't say anymore on that, but still admitted he had committed the murder, using the same nightstick he had used on Blair. Jim was pleased at the ease with which the case was wrapped up, but if he were honest with himself, he was a little disappointed that he had not had to strong arm the information out of Hildred. He was frustrated as well. Hildred had insisted he was working alone. Jim wanted to tie Ventriss to Hildred and put the man away for the rest of his life. Conspiracy to commit murder would do that. Without it, though, Ventriss would complete his current sentence in six months and be free. As Jim sat behind Simon's desk, he read the transcript of the last few minutes of the interrogation as he remembered the exchange.

"Acting Captain Ellison: Why are you protecting him? What has he done to deserve your silence?
Stefan Hildred: Mr Ventriss has nothing to do with this.
A. Captain Ellison: Do you think he is going to thank you for this? You are being hung out to dry. Help us nail Ventriss and I'll personally speak to the D. A. on your behalf, but you'll have to give me something.
S.H: Mr Ventriss was not responsible for any of this.
A. Captain Ellison: Does he have something on you? We can make sure he can't reach you, put you in an out of State prison, keep you safe.
S.H: No.
A. Captain Ellison: Stop this shit. Why would you do this? Blair Sandburg is nothing to you and yet you expect me to believe that you would do all this to frame him? It doesn't add up.
S.H: McCluskey failed. He was supposed to gather enough evidence to put Sandburg in prison. When it became apparent his incompetence was jeopardizing that, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.
A Captain Ellison: Why? Just tell me why you wanted to do this to Sandburg?"

Hildred had not answered. There was more, not much, but all along the same lines. Hildred gave no reason for what he had done and insisted Norman Ventriss was not his employer or involved in anyway. A ringing phone interrupted Jim's thoughts.

"Ellison."

"Hey, Jim."

"Chief! How are you?" I'm sorry; I meant to get back to the loft before you woke. The voice sounds better. How does your throat feel?"

"Hurts like hell," Blair whispered.

"Listen, I'm gonna call Simon before I get back. Apparently Joel told him yesterday what was going down with you being missing and he practically had to be restrained. He tried to get out of bed, nearly split his stitches."

"Ok."

"I'll bring dinner with me. Noodles okay?"

"Yeah."

"Blair." Jim paused. "Hildred 'fessed up. It's a watertight case. You will be cleared of all charges."

"Good."

The line went quiet. Jim wanted to tell Blair that they couldn't make a case against Ventriss, but he wanted to do that within the framework of a plan to counter the lack of evidence. So far he didn't have that plan and was unsure how to tell Blair that.

"Ventriss?"

Jim sighed, "Nada. Nothing yet, Chief, but we will get him believe me."

"Okay."

Blair sounded convinced. Jim wished he was as confident. He changed the subject.

"Hey, you should be resting that voice, remember what the doctor said."

There was a gruffness in his voice that he knew he didn't mean. Smiling, he knew Blair would see through that.

"Yes sir."

Jim laughed. Even with the minimum of voice Blair could still stay so much.

"See you soon, Chief."

"Love you."

"I love you too."

Jim looked at his watch as he put down the phone. Checking the pile of urgent messages that Rhonda insisted he had to deal with, he reckoned it would be at least thirty minutes before he could escape the clutches of captain's duties. With a sigh, he picked up the top message, checked the number and started dialling.

Fifteen minutes later Rafe interrupted, announcing that Ventriss had been brought in from prison and he and Brown were going to interview him. Jim wanted to conduct the interview himself, but one of the drawbacks of being captain was having to delegate tasks. He knew the two detectives were more than capable of handling the interview but if he had been plain old Detective Ellison, he and Blair would have been asking the questions. But he was behind the big desk now and Blair was recovering from attempted murder. Things change, things stay the same and there were still phone calls to be made.

By the time Jim had returned all the calls, the interrogation of Norman Ventriss was still going on. Jim spent a few minutes watching from behind the two way mirror. It was apparent from the short time Jim spent there that Ventriss was maintaining his innocence. Jim knew that there was not enough evidence to convict as things stood and he felt as though he had failed Blair. Leaving instructions with Rhonda for Rafe or Brown to update him on the interview when it was over, Jim headed out to the hospital and to his Captain.

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Simon Banks hated hospitals, he hated not being in the thick of things and he hated being kept in the dark. When Jim Ellison stepped into his hospital room he had been in the middle of explaining this forcibly to his Australian detective, Inspector Megan Connor. He noticed the look of relief crossing Connor's face at Jim's entry and smiled. With pleasantries disposed of, Simon began explaining to Jim his current dislikes. Having heard it once already Connor sat down, but Simon included her in his 'explanation' as well. Simon had to give Jim credit; he listened quietly and then gave him a full and detailed update on the case. Simon took it all in, saving all his questions for the end, and then one by one he clarified point after point until he had satisfied himself that he had all the information there was.

"How's the kid holding up?"

"Hating being quiet."

"And you?"

"Enjoying the peace and quiet."

Simon wasn't fooled by the answer he had expected to hear.

"Peace and quiet isn't all it's cracked up to be, believe me," he replied with feeling.

"So, how are we going to get Ventriss? Connor asked.

Until now Megan Connor had been quiet, listening to what Jim had been saying. Jim sat down on the edge of his Captain's bed. Simon moved his feet out of the way and grumbled to himself. He knew that Jim could hear him, but chose to ignore his mumbled complaint. Jim answered Megan's question.

"To be honest, I don't know. The only link we have between them is the prison visits. There was nothing at Hildred's and he's admitting everything except any connection to Ventriss."

"Did the prison record his conversations?" Megan asked.

Jim shook his head. "It's a low security prison."

"Monitor his phone calls?" she continued.

"No."

"His mail?"

Jim gave her a disparaging look.

"Just trying to help, Jimbo," she said sweetly and smiled as she crossed her legs.

A silence fell. Simon waited.

"When do you get out of here?"

Jim was a little too eager to ask the question, thought Simon.

"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning."

"Want me to pick you up?"

"Thanks, but Darryl has already offered."

"So how long until, you know... you get back to work?"

Simon knew Jim had wanted to ask that question since he walked in.

"The doc says maybe three weeks." Simon sighed loudly. Watching his best detective try to hide a horrified look behind a sympathetic one almost made him laugh. He took pity. "I should be back part time in a week, provided the doctor signs me off."

Jim just nodded, the relief evident. At least he had the good sense to look at his feet, acknowledging his embarrassment. Megan smirked.

"Jim, about Ventriss, have you thought about following the money?" Simon asked leaning back into the pillows, suddenly feeling tired. He stifled a yawn.

"The money?"

"Think about it, where did Hildred get all the money to do this? I'm not just talking about the ten thousand dollars. Everything he set up cost big bucks and I bet they didn't come out of his own pocket."

Jim stood up.

"Of course, why didn't I think of that?"

"Sometimes it's tough to see the wood from the trees."

"Simon, there's a very good reason why you're the Captain and I'm not."

"I know."

Simon smiled smugly and yawned again.

"Come on, Connor; let's leave the man in peace."

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Megan Connor had to work hard to follow Jim Ellison's truck. Poor Sandy, she thought, having to put up with Jim's driving. Having gotten caught by a red light, she could see Jim standing by the elevator as she pulled into the parking garage. She considered making him wait, but realized that would serve no purpose although it would have been fun. She sighed. Riding up together they discussed how to best use their resources. Splitting up as they entered the bull pen, Megan powered up her computer and put in her password. Jim spoke from behind her desk.

"According to his file, apart from the Company accounts, which he no longer has access to; Ventriss had three separate bank accounts when he was arrested."

Jim rattled off the names of the accounts as Megan continued to type in the details on the warrant request.

"No signs of any offshore accounts?" she asked.

Jim shook his head. "Not as far as we could tell."

Megan hit print and then walked over to collect the paperwork they would need.

"Who have we got tonight?" Megan asked.

"Judge Andrews is on duty," Jim replied.

"She's a good egg. We should be alright."

Jim grunted as he continued to go over Ventriss' file.

"You know that even if we get the warrant tonight we won't be able to serve it until tomorrow," Megan continued.

"I know," muttered Jim.

"So why don't you go home, spend some time with Sandy? He could probably do with the company."

As Jim started to object she spoke again. "I'll call as soon as we get the warrant and we can be waiting for the bank to open tomorrow morning."

Megan saw Jim check the clock on the wall and waver. As he reached back for his jacket Rafe and Brown walked in and Jim's hand never completed its journey. We'll never get him home at this rate, she thought. Megan listened as the two detectives relayed more bad news; Ventriss had not changed his story, there was no chink in his armour and he was now on his way back to prison.

"The strange thing is, as much as I don't like the heartless bastard, I think he was telling the truth," said Brown.

Jim sat down.

"Hildred had no reason to do this on his own. He must have been working for Ventriss. There is no other explanation. Why can't we make the connection?"

"We will, Jim, just give it time," Henri answered.

"Jim, weren't you on your way back to the loft?" Megan prompted.

Jim grabbed angrily for his jacket and as he strode out of the bullpen he called back to Megan.

"Make sure you call me when that warrant comes through."

Megan waited for Jim to get into the elevator and turned back to the two men who stood dejected by her desk.

"You guys up for some overtime?"

"What have you got in mind, Connor?" Brown asked looking interested.

"How about we give the files the once over, see if anything has been missed?"

"It's a long shot," sighed Rafe.

Megan smiled.

Brown sat down at his desk and held out his hand, "Give it to me."

Megan started handing out the folders.

"You two take these and I'll do these ones, just as soon as I hand the request for the warrant to the duty sergeant."

Apart from the occasional phone call, they worked quietly for the next two hours.

"You know Ventriss has been a model prisoner," Rafe said to no one in particular.

Megan glared at him. That wasn't helping. Ten minutes later Megan slammed down the final folder. Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared at the folders and the world in general.

"Nothing," she declared.

"I told you it was a long shot. Ellison wouldn't have missed anything," Brown said carefully.

"Yeah, I know."

Megan felt momentarily defeated and then springing to her feet spoke again, "Right, I'm off to hunt down that warrant. Thanks for your help, guys."

"I just wish we had found something," Rafe's tone was heartfelt.

"We will," Megan smiled. "You'll see."

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Jim was later getting back to the loft than he had planned or anticipated. He hoped Blair had managed to get some more sleep. His wish was granted. Taking the stairs to their bedroom two at a time, it seemed to Jim that Blair hadn't moved from the position he had fallen asleep in that morning. Stopping for a moment to watch his lover, Jim eventually went back down stairs and into the kitchen. Quietly he made and ate dinner. He watched television with the sound turned down and then showered quickly. With the loft secured Jim went back up the steps. Blair lay on his side now, the pillow under his head damp with drool. Jim stripped down to his boxers and gently lifted the covers to slip in behind Blair. The younger man hardly stirred as Jim slipped an arm beneath him and pulled his warm relaxed body into the shelter of his embrace.

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Tuesday

They met Megan at the First National Bank of Cascade ten minutes before it was due to open. Jim had tried to dissuade Blair from accompanying him that morning but a long sleep had done wonders for Blair's energy levels even if his throat still burned and ached when he tried to speak and swallowing was still painful. The doctor had said it would be two days at least before Blair could do more than whisper the odd word. At least he had been able to shower that morning. Jim had patiently redressed his neck and Blair had put on a high neck sweater to hide the bandage and then quietly but firmly followed Jim from the loft blithely ignoring his protestations.

As soon as the bank opened, the three detectives entered and asked to see the manager. They were forced to wait before the short, weasel-faced man appeared, giving off an air of aggrieved impatience. Jim introduced them all and the man checked the warrant in minute detail. Sitting in front of the manager's large mahogany desk, Blair thought that under other circumstances this man's self-importance might be amusing, but with the prospect of finally linking Ventriss to the murders Blair's mood was far from amused.

"Well, I suppose it is all in order," the little man finally admitted.

He stretched across the very large desk, almost coming out of his chair to press the intercom.

"Miss Ratchett, bring me the printouts for Mr Ventriss' accounts for the last six months."

Blair stared at Jim and mouthed 'Miss Ratchett'. Jim shrugged his shoulders, ignoring the open mouthed look he was getting. Quiet descended. The bank manager inspected his fingernails and looked bored. Blair cleared his throat and Connor looked up, shushing him with a look. Jim's head came up a short while before the catch of the office door snicked allowing Miss Ratchett to enter the room. Blair turned to see if the woman lived up to her film counterpart. He was disappointed to note that she didn't. The woman who entered the room was as tall as he and smartly dressed in a black two piece suit and white blouse. Blonde hair in a short bob finished the picture. She walked confidently around to the bank manager's side of the desk.

"Sir, I brought printouts from Mr Ventriss Senior and Mr Ventriss Junior. I wasn't sure which accounts you were referring to and as there has been no activity on Mr Norman Ventriss' accounts for the past six months I thought you might mean Mr Bradley Ventriss' accounts."

The officious man tutted and held out his hand for the printouts.

"Brad Ventriss," Blair gasped.

It came out as a whisper. Jim came out of his seat and held his hand across the desk.

"May I?" he asked for the printouts.

"Your warrant only covered Mr Norman Ventriss."

The bank manager held out three sheets of paper, retaining the others.

"You know we can get another warrant for Brad Ventriss' accounts."

Jim remained standing, imposing himself on the bank manager. It didn't work.

"And when you do I will gladly hand over the information, Detective Ellison. In the meantime, I am afraid I must keep hold of these."

The little man stood, signalling an end to the interview.

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"Pencil-pushing asshole."

When Megan Connor took a dislike to someone she certainly let you know about it, Blair thought. The three of them stood in the parking lot of the bank. Jim handed out the computer printouts. Miss Ratchett had almost been right. There had been some activity on Norman Ventriss' accounts, but it was just normal utility payments, all easily checked. Blair started as Jim pounded the hood of the truck.

"How did we miss this? All this time we have been looking in the wrong direction."

Blair put a hand on Jim's arm, trying to calm him. Jim looked at Blair, his eyes full of anger. Blair put all the calmness he could muster into his face, returning Jim's stare and saw the bigger man physically relax.

"Okay, let's think about this."

Jim ran his hand over his hair.

"We want another warrant. Megan, you take care of that. Blair, we need to link Brad Ventriss with Hildred. According to the records of prison visits Hildred never visited Brad, so how did these two communicate? Hildred did not do this on his own. I will not accept that."

Jim looked at Blair as he said the last five words and put his hand over Blair's. He saw Megan smile at the intimate touch and blushed slightly. Megan chuckled and walked over to her car.

"See you back at the station, boys. Don't do anything I wouldn't," she laughed.

Jim turned to Blair, "Are you okay?"

"Stiff, sore," Blair managed.

"Let me take you back to the loft."

There was a pleading tone to Jim's voice. Blair shook his head.

"Chief..." Jim warned.

Blair stood resolute, giving Jim one of 'those' looks.

Jim sighed, "Okay, but don't overdo it."

Blair nodded. This not being able to speak was getting real old real quick, he thought. The journey back to Major Crime went by in silence. Every now and then Jim looked over to Blair as though he were expecting something. His right hand strayed to Blair's shoulder when the driving allowed. As they pulled up in the parking garage, Jim took the keys out of the ignition. He put a hand on Blair's knee.

"You know, it's weird not hearing you chatter away, Chief." Jim paused. "I never thought I would say this, but... I miss it."

Blair smiled. Maybe not having a voice had some good things going for it, thought Blair. Jim had definitely become more touchy feely and that was a situation Blair could put up with for any amount of time.

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Jim held back as Blair entered the bullpen, allowing the younger man to enjoy the welcome from his fellow officers. Slipping into his office, he checked the coffee machine and reminded himself to thank Rhonda for filling it and turning it on. Jim poured himself a full mug and allowed himself to enjoy the aroma and a mouthful before picking up the phone and dialling. He was busy jotting down names when Blair finally made it into the office. Jim pointed at the coffee machine and Blair dramatically sighed, pushed himself up and poured Jim a second cup and himself a first.

"Thanks, that's a lot of help." Jim hung up and handed Blair a list of names. "Recognise any of these?" Jim asked.

Blair shook his head.

"It's a list of the visitors Brad has had since the trial."

There were six names on the list.

"Let's go check them out."

The names were handed out and six detectives suddenly got busy. A short while later the phone rang on Megan's desk. She stood, announcing that she was going to collect the warrant. Blair, who had been forced into computer duties, conveyed the suggestion that he take over from Megan. She smiled at him.

"Are you up to it Sandy? You're looking a little peaky."

"I'm sure," he whispered.

"Okay, but I won't be long."

Blair settled into her seat and took a long gulp from the ever present bottle of water that seemed to be the only thing that eased the burn in his throat. Stretching his back to ease the ache there, Blair jiggled the mouse to remove the screensaver. A face appeared on the screen. Blair stared.

"Jim."

In his office Jim looked up at Blair's barely spoken word. By the time he reached Megan's desk, Blair was reading a list of names. Jim's eye followed Blair's finger as it crossed the screen.

"Joe Hillier, a.k.a. Jimmy Hughes, a.k.a. Jozef Hildred. Born St Petersburg 1957 to parents Tomaz and Maria, granted asylum in the US in 1970. Brother to Stefan. He's one of Brad's goons, one of the guys who attacked you in the street. I thought he was still inside," Jim commented.

As Blair scrolled down the screen Jim read on.

"Paroled Starkville State Correctional Institution."

The date was almost two months ago. Further down the page was the name of a parole officer and a current address. Blair hit print as Jim called Brown and Rafe over. Megan walked back into the bullpen as the two detectives were leaving. The smiling faces were a change from the studied determination that had clung to the room before she left.

"I got the warrant," she announced.

"Take a uniform and go serve the bank and don't take any shit from that asshole," Jim ordered.

"No worries, Boss."

She smiled at Jim's reaction. Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder, gently massaging the sore muscles underneath.

"Not long now, Chief, and Ventriss will never see the light of day," Jim smiled confidently.

Blair grinned back and continued to bring up more information on his previous attacker. Jim's hand lingered on Blair as his mind cast back to those few minutes in the alley outside the parking garage behind the loft. He had dropped the shopping as he had heard Blair's gasps of pain and one, two, three, four, five blows hitting flesh. Blair had been on all fours and the three men and a baseball bat were closing in on him when Jim arrived. The oldest man, the one with the moustache, the one they now knew was Jozef had held Jim off with a gun. Then Jim had turned to Blair who was dazed and bleeding.

Jim shook himself and realised his hand was at the nape of Blair's neck and Blair was looking up at him, a gentle question in his eyes. Jim smiled down and reluctantly took his hand away.

"Let's go, Chief."

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As they drove up to Jozef's address Rafe walked away from the building that housed the wanted man's apartment.

"No one's seen him since this morning. According to his parole officer he isn't working yet, but he's not here."

Jim scanned the street.

"There's a car coming. Get out of sight."

Jim went back to the truck and got in next to his partner. Rafe and Brown took up position inside the building. A dilapidated Dodge Dually pulled up on the street outside Jozef's building. The man got out and juggled keys in one hand as he approached the front door. Stopping before he got to the front door he looked around him as though suspicious of something.

"Chief, stay here."

Jim opened the truck door just a crack, ready to move.

"No," Blair stated quietly.

Jim held the door still. Jozef resumed his walk and pushed the front door of the building open. Turning, the man suddenly ran, heading away from Jim. As he sped away Rafe and Brown burst out of the building. Jim's truck had been parked a little down from the building and that gave the two detectives a head start on their temporary captain. He soon caught up with them. The man they were chasing had slipped between two buildings and as they rounded the corner they saw him scale a wire fence. Redoubling their efforts they went after him, Jim getting in front of them as he made it over the fence first.

Blair had followed Jim from the truck and then hesitated, thinking about the wisdom of joining the chase without a weapon. He went back to the truck and took Jim's spare weapon from the locked box, then ran back chasing after the four men, ignoring the pain in his legs and back. He turned the corner to see Brown turn right on the other side of a high wire fence. He scrabbled over it, ran to the edge of the alley and went right. There was no one in sight.

"Shit!"

He ran on until he came to another junction. He could hear footsteps and followed left. He knew he was slowing and soon the sound of the footfalls disappeared. He stopped, panting. Blair swallowed hard, the saliva not easing the pain in his throat.

Jozef Hildred was fit. That's what prison will do for you, Jim thought. He kept up with the fleeing man, though he wasn't able to make any headway and close the gap. Bursting out on to a busier street, he couldn't find any sign of the man. Rafe and Brown came to a stop behind him. There were only two routes the man could have taken.

"You two take left, I'll go right. Don't let him get away."

The two men nodded and set off. Jim started running again. He had known Blair had followed him from the truck and had now stopped. Worried that Blair was overdoing things he reassured himself with the steady, albeit slightly faster pitter patter of his lover's now stationary heartbeat. Concentrating all his senses on the chase, Jim suddenly veered left. A smell of sweat and fear had caught his nose. His hearing picked up a rapid beat, faster than anything else on the street. He followed it.

Blair was undecided. If he went on he had no idea which way to go and could be wandering around uselessly. He could go back and wait in the truck, maybe call in reinforcements. He stood unsure and picked up the sound of running feet. He moved towards them, the gun warm in his grip. Jogging now, he put the gun in both hands, standard grip for pursuit. Another corner loomed and before taking it he hugged the wall, chancing a quick glimpse. Running at him was Jozef. The man had obviously given Jim the slip and doubled back. Stepping forward, bringing the gun up to point directly at the middle of Jozef's chest, Blair said, with as much force as he could

"Cascade PD. Armed police officer. Stop, put the gun down and raise your hands above your head."

The man obeyed the first instruction but pointed his gun at Blair.

"Put the gun down." Blair managed to get out.

It was a stand off. This couldn't be happening again, Blair thought. His hands shook slightly, but the gun remained aimed at the man's heart. He throat felt as though he had swallowed razor blades.

"Put the fucking gun down, man. Don't do this."

Please don't do this to me. I don't know if I can shoot you, you little shit. Can I kill you to save my life? Don't make me decide. I don't know. I don't want to know, not now, not so soon after... before. Words raced through his mind and his stomach gripped in fear.

"Drop the gun, you schmuck, or I'm gonna shoot you," he croaked at Jozef.

"I ain't done nothing; just get out of my way."

"Then put the gun down and put your hands in the air."

"Ain't gonna happen, shortass. I'm gonna finish what I started."

Blair watched as Jozef's gun, which had dropped momentarily as the man spoke, came back up and his world slowed into strange distorted images where the blink of the man's eyes and the tightening of his trigger finger took an age rather than a fraction of a second; where Blair had time to think and reason and to know that he could kill this man to save his own life, even though he would do everything in his power to avoid that. Determination settled over him like a heavy coat on a warm day.

The wanted man twitched his head as a figure appeared behind him. The gun drooped and a strong arm came round the front of the man and removed the weapon. He went to his knees and put his hands on his head, obeying orders that Blair couldn't hear. Blair stepped back behind the wall and slumped down, letting the bricks hold him up. Flipping on the safety, he pushed the gun into the waistband of his jeans and sniffed, drawing the back of his hand across his face. He stepped back out.

"You okay, Chief?" asked a worried voice.

"Fine," he managed to squawk out as he approached the two men. "Thank for the back up."

Jim nodded. "My pleasure."

Jozef Hildred was walked back to the truck as Jim called Rafe's cell phone to give the good news. Blair was silent all the way back to the station. Jim hoped it was due to the strain on his throat from warning Jozef. Jim took the man to booking as Blair headed back to the bullpen.

The prisoner was all bravado until Rafe told him that they had his brother in lock up charged with murder. The fight went out of him and the ADA was called to take his statement. Jim and Blair watched from behind the two way mirror. Jozef was only the go between. It was he who had passed on Brad's instructions to his younger brother to visit Norman Ventriss; it was he who told his brother to target Ashcroft, the loser who could be bought for money and McCluskey, the dirty I.A. cop. Jozef enjoyed believing he was 'The Man', manipulating and twisting events to implicate Blair and leave him vulnerable. In reality, he was still a thug with a baseball bat. The cunning in this plan came from Brad Ventriss and the execution from Stefan Hildred, who was more thorough than an IRS inspector on the trail of unpaid taxes. Jozef was not a particularly bright boy, but he was strong, amoral and violent and the more he said the more pieces fell into place. He and Brad Ventriss had shared a prison wing and when Jozef was released from prison after serving his sentence for assaulting Blair, he left with a plan in place and the promise of enough money to keep him happy for a very long time.

When asked why Stefan had visited Norman Ventriss so many times, Josef had revealed that Brad had ordered it saying he could kill two birds with one stone. Stefan had also been the gopher between Brad and his money. Brad's lawyer had seen to that.

"The cold-hearted bastard," Jim spat out. "He deliberately set up his old man."

Jim looked at Blair noticing the paleness of his skin.

"Let me take you back to the loft, Chief. You don't look so well."

Blair nodded. "Ventriss?" he asked.

Megan and I will go over to the prison after I drop you off and charge him. I'll be back before you know it."

Blair nodded again, "Okay."

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When Jim got back to the loft two hours later, he found Blair dozing on the couch. A bottle of water and a package of Tylenol sat on the coffee table. Jim had not turned on the lights as he entered the loft and as he sat on the couch, he watched Blair bathed in the dim glow of the side lamp. Even in sleep Jim could see the pinch of pain around his eyes. Blair stirred and Jim smiled.

"Hey, Chief."

"Hey." Came the reply.

"Feeling any better?" Jim asked.

Blair waggled his hand palm down to indicate 'so, so' and reached for the bottle. Taking a long sip, he managed to ask, "What happened with Ventriss?"

Jim felt like the cat that had got the cream.

"Charged and tucked up like a baby. He didn't break down and cry but I've never seen the ADA so happy before. She says we have it all tied up, regardless of what Brad says."

"Good," Blair whispered and then grimaced.

"I checked with the ADA. She says Brad was moved from Starkville after his attempts to get to you through Tres Hunter. Cascade was considered a more secure prison than Starkville. Ventriss must have worked this all out with Josef before his transfer and then all he had to do was wait for Josef to get out. With the case against Ventriss and Hunter ongoing, Ventriss had all the access he wanted to his lawyer and whatever money Stefan needed was arranged." Jim watched Blair move his body trying to find a comfortable position, as he explained.

"How about a massage, ease some of those aches and pains?"

Another gulp of water and Blair managed, "That would be good."

Jim surveyed the pale skin underneath his hands and continued the gentle pressure on Blair's chest. He had made Blair lie on a large soft, fluffy bath towel and put on the light by the side of the bed while Blair lay on his back and Jim straddled his hips. Blair had handed Jim the vanilla massage oil and settled himself. As he relaxed under Jim's gentle ministrations, he whispered, "Good."

"I still can't get over Ventriss setting up his old man like that. I can understand him going after you or me, but his father tried to cover for him."

Blair raised an eyebrow at Jim's words and huffed. Jim looked down and smiled at Blair, seeing the sparkle in his eyes, knowing that his lover wasn't really angry at his comment. Leaning forward, Jim stole a kiss from those pursed lips and Blair returned the touch. Jim moved off the body beneath him and spoke.

"Turn over, Chief."

Blair did as he was told. Jim winced at the bruises on the back of Blair's body. No wonder Blair had walked up to the bedroom like an old man. Apart from the mark around his neck, there were two other series of purple, red and black discolorations; one across the lower back which ran from almost one side of his waist to the other and another which travelled from the nape of his neck to just below the left shoulder. The nightstick that Hildred had used had done too much damage as far as Jim was concerned. The blows that had caused the bruises had been well-aimed and designed to incapacitate. In deference to the pain he might cause, Jim knelt to one side of Blair rather than straddle him. His hands were soon soothing the knots from the battered body. He could feel Blair relaxing.

"You've got magic hands," Blair mumbled.

"So I've been told," Jim teased.

Blair chuckled. Sentinel senses gave Jim an edge in finding those knots of tension and easing them away. It wasn't long before Blair's body was a pliable heap of muscle and bone. Jim realised that the massage was relaxing him almost as much as Blair and found himself closing his eyes and relying on touch alone. Jim wasn't sure when it happened but he slowly became aware of Blair's other reaction to his hands; his heart rate had kicked up a notch, his mumbles of relaxation had become quiet groans of pleasure and there was an aroma of arousal that tickled Jim's nose. Opening his eyes, Jim grinned. Blair was not in any shape for love-making but that was no reason why Jim couldn't give his other half the sort of pleasure that would complete what the massage had started.

Gently he moved his hands to below Blair's waist and started kneading the muscles of those sweet ass cheeks. Blair's body shifted beneath his hands.

"Comfy, Chief?" Jim asked, knowing full well that the younger man was getting hard.

Allowing Blair to find his own position that didn't put too much pressure on his cock, Jim eased off for a few seconds. Blair stilled and Jim continued. One hand slowly made its way to the dip between those cheeks. One finger delved further, parting the cheeks as it sought the pucker of skin that was its goal. The body under his hands shivered in anticipation.

"Jim," Blair whispered.

Leaning forward, keeping that finger tenderly rubbing over the raised skin, he kissed Blair's back caressing the bruise at the nape of his neck. The finger pressed down entering Blair's unresisting body, while Jim's lips continued to kiss the bruise in the gentlest way and the finger pushed on.

"Oh God," Blair sighed.

Slowly Jim let his finger fuck Blair, easing and pushing forward. He felt Blair push back as the finger inexorably progressed. Jim's kisses continued, providing a second stimulation to the abused body. The tender motion continued as Blair's breath became a little ragged. The finger withdrew completely and there was a groan of disappointment which swiftly became as whimper of contentment as one finger was replaced by two. With his left hand palm down, the effort of maintaining the rhythm of fucking Blair was a strain on Jim's wrist, but the reaction it was provoking in his lover more than made up for the discomfort.

Time to take this up a notch thought Jim. On his push into that sleek, tight hole Jim angled his fingers seeking Blair's prostate. As he hit the raised, area Blair's body spasmed, his hands grabbing at the towel he lay face down on and his knees pulled up as he gasped for air.

"Like that, lover?" Jim asked, pleased beyond measure that Blair couldn't answer.

The finger fucking became more insistent, each forward stroke stimulating Blair's prostate. Jim could feel Blair's body coil and knew he was approaching his climax. He pulled both fingers out.

"No," Blair gasped.

Three slick fingers entered Blair pushing against his prostate. A hoarse scream was dragged from him as the extra pressure tipped him over the edge. Jim felt Blair's orgasm from a unique perspective as muscles contracted round his fingers. Jim kissed at the second bruise as Blair's body collapsed back on to the bed. Waiting until the final ripple of release echoed through his lover's body, Jim removed his fingers and heard Blair sigh in completion. Blair rolled to one side and raised himself up on his elbow so he could see Jim.

"I love you."

He spoke quietly. Jim leaned forward and kissed the lips that he adored so much.

"I am so glad you are still here," Jim admitted.

He searched the face below him as though he could divine any damage to that beautiful soul from the taking of another life. Blair turned all the way onto his back and returned Jim's gaze. Jim placed his hand over Blair's heart.

"Are you going to be okay?"

He saw understanding in Blair's eyes; the younger man knew he wasn't just talking about his physical injuries. Blair paused and stared hard at Jim.

"I will be," Blair swallowed. "With your help and your love."

Jim smiled, not trusting himself to reply immediately. He pulled the towel out from under Blair, wiped his hands and threw the towel on the floor. Covers were pulled up and he gathered Blair's body to his side.

"Always, Blair, always," he murmured as he kissed those beautiful lips.

The End.

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