"You shouldn't be here, Chief. You should be at home with your feet up, resting."
Blair Sandburg, mother-to-be, sat comfortably reclined in one of the padded chairs from Simon's office, his feet propped on a second chair. Putting down the paperwork, he looked at Jim. "I do have my feet up, and I am resting. Since I finished up the dissertation, there's nothing to do at home. At least here I can feel useful."
"Yeah, well, if you get tired, tell me. Simon'll give me the time off to take you home."
"I'm okay, Jim. Stop fussing. You're the one acting like the mother hen!"
Both men looked up as Simon approached Jim's desk. The man looked positively grim. "Jim, I need you in the field."
"Simon...."
"I know I promised you no field work while Sandburg was pregnant, but we really need you on this. There's a hostage situation at the Speedy-Mart down on Collins and Fifth. Three gunmen holding five hostages. We've got police snipers at the site, but we need a way to hear and see what's going on in there."
Jim stared at his captain, then glanced sideways to look at his partner. Blair shrugged. "Go, man. They need you." As Jim pushed back his chair to stand, Blair dropped his feet and laboriously made his way out of the chair. "But I'm going with you."
"Like hell you are!" Jim exploded. "Your C-section is scheduled for next week. You can barely get out of that chair. There's no way you're coming out to the field."
"You're going to need me there, to help with your senses."
"No way. Huh-uh, Sandburg. I was doing this job long before you came along. I can do it without you now."
"You weren't doing it with your senses on-line. What if you zone?"
"Simon can snap me out of it. You're not going. It's not negotiable."
"You're damn right it's not negotiable!" Blair shouted back. "It's my decision, and I'm going!"
"Are not!"
"Are so!"
"Simon?" Jim turned pleading eyes to his captain.
Simon frowned and shook his head. "No way, Sandburg," he backed up his detective. "It's too dangerous. It's an armed hostage situation, not the sort of thing you should be anywhere near."
"Look, Simon ... Jim...." Blair's pleading eyes flicked from one man to the other and back. "I know it's dangerous, but it's dangerous for Jim, too. You want him there for his senses, don't you?" he asked the captain.
"Well, yeah, actually. We have plenty of fire power, but we need to hear what's going on in there in order to size up the situation. A negotiating team has been sent for, but we need some reconnaissance now."
"Jim, you know when you concentrate too much with one sense you risk a zone out," Blair reminded him.
"And, like I said, Simon knows how to bring me out of a zone. You don't need to be there."
"Look, Jim," Blair spoke with his most persuasive tone, "Simon's the only other person besides me who knows about your senses. He's going to be busy, man! He's got police and snipers to coordinate, and the negotiating team coming ... he won't be able to keep an eye on you all the time."
"Kid's got a point there," Simon conceded.
Spurred on by the captain's comment, Blair continued. "Whenever you use your senses, you sort of freeze in place because you're concentrating so hard. The changes in your body language between listening and zoning are minute. I've spent the last three years studying you, I know those changes when I see them. You need me there, Jim!"
"I don't like the idea any better than you do, Jim, but the kid makes sense. I'm going to be too busy to watch you every minute, and I can't afford to lose one of my best detectives." Simon sighed in defeat. "I think we need him. I'll see to it he stays safely behind police lines. I'll even assign him a bodyguard."
"No, Simon. He's not going, and that's final!" Jim stomped toward the door, grabbing his coat, leaving his captain and lover standing next to his desk.
Blair looked up at the tall captain, fear and pleading in his eyes. "Don't let him go out there alone."
"Jim!" Simon barked. "Get your ass back here!"
The angry Sentinel turned on his captain. "I thought you needed me at the scene. I'm going."
"Not without Sandburg."
"Simon...." The name was a growled threat.
"We'll find him a vest, but we need him there, Jim--just in case," Simon reasoned.
Throughout this exchange, Blair wisely remained silent. Finally, Jim capitulated. "If you can find him a vest that fits, and if he stays way back behind the lines...." He glared at his lover.
Blair held up both hands, warding off Jim's anger. "Whatever you say, Jim. I'll do whatever you say, I promise."
Twenty minutes and a lot of aggravation later, Blair was finally fitted with a Kevlar vest. It had taken some doing, but they finally located the one vest the department had procured for its pregnant officers. "Why would any pregnant woman in her right mind go out into the field, anyway?" Jim wondered.
When they arrived at the scene, Jim parked the truck a block away. "You stay here with the truck," he ordered.
"Jim, I need to be able to see you. I'm not the sentinel here, you are. If I can't see you, I can't help you."
"You also won't get hurt."
"Jim ... what's the point of my coming along if I can't help you if you need it?"
"That's my point! You shouldn't even be here!"
"Aw, Jim ... c'mon. Let me help."
Simon walked up to the truck. "There's been no change in the hostage situation. We need to hear what's going on in there, Jim. Come on." When Jim hesitated, Simon added, "I'll take care of the kid. We'll keep him behind the lines. Now get going!"
Jim went on ahead while Simon stayed back with Blair, who moved much slower than his partner. They arrived at a line of police vehicles and stopped. "You stay put here, Sandburg. You should be able to see and hear everything fine from here, and you'll be out of the line of fire." Turning to the two cops standing nearest them, he ordered, "Minsky, Devlin, see to it Sandburg stays right here."
"Yes, sir," Devlin answered.
Jim edged out to the front of the line drawn by the police. He could clearly see the three gunmen inside, weapons pointed at the frightened hostages. Focusing his hearing, he listened in on their conversation.
"They've got us outnumbered. I say we give up and get out of here with our skins intact. Ain't worth no two hundred dollars getting killed."
"You idiot! You think they'd just let you walk out there? These people are our only chance." The man grabbed a female hostage by her collar and put the gun to her head. The whimpering woman shook like a leaf beneath his hands. "I say we kill 'em one by one until they let us go."
The third man, looking nervous, grabbed a male hostage. "I'm with Brinner. I say we kill 'em, starting with this one."
"Simon," Jim hissed into the shoulder mike he was carrying. "They're talking about killing the hostages one by one until we let them go. I think they're close to taking the first one."
"Right. Thanks, Jim." Simon switched frequencies and began issuing orders to the sniper team.
Jim crept closer to the mini-mart, eyes and ears locked onto the action inside.
Blair watched from his position of safety, worried to see Jim edging ever closer to the store. To his horror, he watched as Jim froze into place, head cocked as though listening to something no one else could hear. "My God, he's zoned!" Blair's heartbeat kicked into overdrive. He had to get Jim out of there before the shooting started.
The officers who were supposed to be keeping an eye on the police observer were currently concentrating on the action out in front of the store. Blair used the opportunity to slip away and run toward the zoned-out Sentinel.
Reaching Jim's side, he grabbed at his sleeve. "Jim! Jim, listen to me. You've got to come back now; it's dangerous out here. Follow my voice back, Jim. Come on!" He shook the oblivious man. "Let's get out of here. I really don't like this."
Inside the store, the perp with the male hostage released the safety on his gun and loaded a round into the chamber. One of the police snipers, keeping watch through his gun's scope, fired off a round into the shop, taking the man out before he could kill the hostage.
All hell broke loose. The other perps began firing through the windows at the police outside. Snipers and uniformed officers returned fire in a hail of bullets.
The additional noise, along with the coaxing sound of his guide's voice, brought Jim out of the zone. Too late he heard the dull thud of a bullet hitting a vest. The hands that had gripped his arm so tightly slipped off as Blair sank to the ground with a cry of pain.
"Blair! Oh, God, Blair!" His hands ripped at the coat, exposing the Kevlar vest with one spent slug in the lower abdominal region.
Blair moaned, blinking back tears. "Hurts, Jim. Oh, God, it hurts!" He clutched at his belly, curling into a ball on the pavement of the parking lot.
"We've got to get you out of here, Chief," Jim insisted, tugging at his lover, trying to get the man back on his feet. "Come on, help me out here," he huffed. "You're getting too heavy for me to lift. Stand up, Blair. Please."
Rolling to his knees, Blair pushed himself up. With Jim's help, he made it to his feet. Still doubled over from the pain in his gut, he hobbled back behind the safety of the line of cars, sinking to a sitting position behind the nearest vehicle.
Calls of "officer down" and orders for an ambulance carried above the sound of gunfire.
~oO0Oo~
"How is he, Doc?" Jim fretted. "Is he going to be okay?"
"There's heavy bruising of the muscle at the point of impact," Dr. Casey began, "but no significant damage. The ultrasound looked good. Your daughter is fine. I see no reason to change the date of the C-section. Just take Blair home and see that he rests."
"Easier said than done," Jim grumped.
"He is a headstrong one, isn't he?" Lynne chuckled. "He's going to be sore for a few days. I'd be prepared for some bitchiness if I were you."
"So what else is new?"
Lynne smiled. "You can go get him now. I think he's anxious to get out of here. For some reason, he doesn't seem to like hospitals much."
"Thanks, Doc." Jim walked through the door of the treatment room to gather his guide and take him home.
"It's about time you got here," Blair groused. "I've been dressed for ten minutes. These people here don't think I'm capable of getting up and walking out on my own."
"These people are here to see you don't get hurt. Let's go home." He put out an arm which Blair grasped as he slid off the exam table.
"Man, this hurts." A hand went to cradle his belly, taking some of the weight off the bruised area.
Wrapping an arm around his partner to steady him, Jim placed a hand on the protruding belly, gently stroking the roundness. "She's okay," he whispered. "You're okay. You scared the shit out of me, Rambo. I thought I'd lost both you and the baby." Jim's fear was clearly reflected in his voice, along with his unbounded relief that his love and family were safe.
"Sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to scare you, but you were zoned! I couldn't leave you out there like that. You were a sitting duck!" Blair still trembled at the thought.
Jim guided the young man out to the truck and helped him to climb in. "No more of this, okay, Chief? I'm back to desk duty until after Laurene is born."
"Great, 'cause I don't think I could do this again." Blair grinned at him weakly. "Home, James."
Jim put the truck in gear and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
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