SquidgeWorld Archive

One Step at a Time
by Dusty Tyree

Blair hurried down the corridor towards the door to the loft, hoping he'd arrived before his roommate; the truck wasn't parked outside, so there was a chance Jim wouldn't know he was over an hour later than he'd planned.

Fumbling for his key, he got the front door open and went inside, cautiously looking round for any sign of Ellison.

Heaving a sigh of relief when he realised there wasn't an irate sentinel waiting for him, he dumped his backpack by the door and flung his coat at one of the hangers, mildly surprised when it actually hooked onto the peg.

Great! At least something was going his way at last.

Going into the kitchen, he washed his hands at the sink, then opened the cupboards to get the ingredients for their dinner. It was going to have to be something quick, as there wasn't time to cook properly before Jim came home, and Blair had promised that dinner would be ready, he just hadn't said what it would be.

Pasta was always a good choice, and they had sauce left from yesterday.

His heart slowing down, Blair started to relax a little.

He had wanted everything to go smoothly tonight, as things had been a bit rocky recently between them.

He'd been busier than usual at the University, trying to catch up with favours received whilst he'd been recovering from a bad dose of flu; plus covering an extra class for one of the Professors whose wife had been in a traffic accident while visiting her parents in Canada, and he'd flown up to be with her.

So Blair hadn't been able to get to the PD often to help Jim, and he'd missed a couple of late-night stakeouts when Jim wouldn't allow him to go because of his lack of sleep and residual cold sniffles.

Now, though, due to working through lunch hours this whole week and being later then he'd said tonight, he was caught up, more or less, and wanted to provide a calm front to assure his room-mate that he was eager - and well enough - to start back with his duties as back-up to the sentinel senses. More important, he wanted to connect with Jim - his friend.

Ten minutes later, the front door opened and Ellison came through, tossing his keys with unerring aim into the basket and picking up the two envelopes lying there.

"Hyah, Jim," Blair called. "Dinner ready in a few..."

Ellison turned round and smiled. "Chief... how're you doing?"

Blair's full wattage grin beamed up at Ellison. "All caught up... so I'm all yours."

Ellison examined his room-mate closely, searching for any sign of obfuscation, but Blair seemed better than he'd been earlier in the week, although still a little pale and tired.

"No more extra work?" he asked.

Blair shook his head. "Nope. Professor Blake is coming back next week and says he'll take the Wednesday class, so I'm officially off the hook."

Jim nodded. "That's good. How's his wife doing?"

"He seemed more optimistic when I spoke to him earlier. Apparently Clara is improving very well, and they're transferring her to Cascade General on Monday. The Prof seemed to think she'd be allowed home very soon after that."

Jim nodded. "Good..." his attention went to the letter in his hand and he smiled. "Just in time by the sound of it."

"Huh?" Blair's tone indicated his bewilderment.

Jim waved the letter. "Cousin Vincent is gong to be in Cascade for a four day conference starting on Friday, so we get to show him around - again."

"Oh!" Blair smiled, though his heart sank. He'd wanted some time for Jim and himself, and although he liked Hunter, and they'd seemed to get on well at Christmas, the older man made him feel a bit inadequate.

Ellison caught the slight note of disappointment, and came to lean on the counter beside Blair. "What's up, Chief? You got something to do this weekend?"

Blair smiled again. "No, nothing in particular. It will be nice for you to see your cousin again."

"I suppose." Ellison frowned. "I thought you and Hunter got on okay at Christmas... but if you'd rather not..."

"No, no... it's fine Jim. We did get on okay," he paused. "It's just..." he waved a hand in the air and turned to stir the sauce.

"Just what?"

Blair shrugged. "I just get the impression that he tolerates me for you and your father's sake... we don't have a lot in common."

Jim frowned. He knew that sometimes Blair felt a trifle insecure when he met some of Jim's older friends from the military, although no-one except Jim would ever notice, as Blair, the anthropologist fit in just fine.

"I don't think so, Chief," he said. "Under that cold expression and perfectly-cut suit..." Blair smiled a little at that and Jim risked teasing him a tad more, "and besides, you and I didn't have a lot in common at the beginning."

Blair looked startled at both the words and the note of teasing and rallied.
"You mean we do now?"

He ducked as Jim's long arm swept up and cuffed the back of his head. "Smart-ass!"

Blair smiled as Jim went upstairs to change, relaxing a little at the knowledge that Jim wasn't upset with him, and Hunter wasn't that bad... really...

Friday morning came and Blair was sitting on the couch at the loft, sorting the last few papers he needed for his class on Monday, when the phone rang.

Picking it up he answered "Sandburg here."

"Hi Chief, it's me." Jim's voice came through loud and clear and Blair smiled, then frowned wondering if the plans had been changed.

"What's up, Doc?" he teased.

He heard Jim laugh. "Nothing much, Bugs... but Hunter called and asked if we could meet up with him at the Conference Function Suite instead of at the loft, we could have lunch, then he's free for the rest of the day."

Blair hesitated, but he'd said he would go with Jim and Hunter and he couldn't think of a convincing excuse that wouldn't involve lying and making Jim think he didn't like Hunter.

"Yeah, that would be great, I'm just sorting some stuff for Monday - I can meet you at the hotel - what time?"

"I'll pick you up, save taking two cars... say in an hour."

"Okay... see you then."

An hour later, give or take a minute, Blair heard the elevator and a few moments later, Jim walked, or rather limped, into the loft.

"Jim!" Blair cried, "what on earth happened?"

He hurried towards his friend, concern clouding his eyes.

Jim scowled, his knee hurt and he'd ripped his best jeans.

"Nothing much," he growled, going towards the bathroom, waving Blair off as the younger man tried to help him.

"Nothing much?" exclaimed Blair, "your face is bruised and.. and.. you're filthy."

"Thanks for that observation, Sandburg... I hadn't realised."

Blair rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Okay! Detective Ellison was not in a good mood.

Ellison limped into the bathroom, shedding his coat on the way.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, be ready in ten minutes..."

The bathroom door shut and a few moments later Blair heard the sound of water splashing into the tub.

Shaking his head, he waited a a little, then cautiously opened the bathroom door a crack. . "Can I get you anything?" he called. "What clothes do you want to change into?"

Jim closed his eyes, letting the hot water run down his back, already feeling better for being clean again.

That alley had been filthy.

"I'll get them, Chief," he called. "I could do with a cup of coffee though..."

"Coming right up."

Blair moved away, reassured by the normal sound of Jim's voice.

Ten minutes later, a clean and better-tempered detective, was sitting on the couch, letting Blair put some antiseptic cream on his bruised chin.

"There, that should do it, Jim." He busied himself tidying up the First Aid box and went to put it back in the bathroom and wash his hands again.

"Whatever happened, at least you didn't break the skin, no danger of blood poisoning," he said as he came back into the living room. "Wherever it was, it must've been filthy, your jeans are ruined."

Ellison scowled. "Thanks for reminding me of that..." but there was no heat in his voice, more a resigned humour. "That's the last time I chase an escaped perp into an alley for H... next time, he can roll in the dirt for a change."

"Maybe Simon can get you a 'damage to clothes' insurance."

Jim snorted, "Yeah, and maybe pigs can fly."

Blair hid a smile, then sat back, letting Ellison unwind and drink his coffee.

Jim finished his coffee in peace, glad that Blair had sense enough not to chatter on as he usually did. He just needed a few minutes to calm down. The chase had been a little more dangerous than he'd told Blair. The perp had pulled a knife and it was in trying to avoid the long blade that Jim had slipped on some rubbish and fallen against the alley wall. He'd recovered in time to catch the man's wrist and they'd wrestled for possession of the knife, landing on the ground where Jim had torn the knee out of his jeans. He'd just got the upper hand and had the escaping felon face-down on the ground, handcuffing his hands behind his back, when H had arrived on the scene, having chased after the second man who'd robbed the liquor store. Unfortunately for H, this second man had had a motor bike stashed away and had managed to escape.

H had taken charge of Jim's prisoner and had promised to do the paper work while Jim went home to get changed, as he was aware that Jim had the afternoon off to go meet with his cousin. Jim had promised to come in later to write and sign his own report.

Glancing at the VCR clock, Jim saw that it was later than he'd thought, and even if they left now, they would be a little late to meet Vincent Hunter. He stood up, taking his empty coffee mug into the kitchen, feeling his knee start to ache at the sudden movement.

"You ready to go, Chief?" he asked.

"Yep," Blair replied, stacking the papers he'd been sorting. "You okay, Jim?"

"I'm fine, Chief."

Blair studied him, but Jim looked okay, his expression calm and his eyes clear.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road," and went to get their coats.

Jim rolled his eyes and, trying not to limp, joined Blair at the door.

"You sure you're okay, Jim?" asked Blair anxiously. "You're trying not to limp."

//So much for hoping the observer wouldn't notice// thought Jim with an inner smile.

"I'm okay, Junior. Knee just a little stiff from sitting."

Blair nodded, accepting Ellison's reassurance.

The drive through the busy traffic was slow, but uneventful. Blair, on Jim's instructions, had phoned Hunter to say that they'd been delayed but were on their way.

They were only about twenty minutes late when Jim parked in the open air car park adjacent to the Conference hotel and they made their way to the Lobby to meet Hunter.

He was waiting for them by one of the big windows over-looking the street and came to meet them as they entered.

Blair still couldn't get used to how much alike the two cousins were. The only difference was in their choice of clothes.

Hunter was clad in a dark blue, three-piece suit, with a white shirt and a tie in shades of light and dark blue. The shine on his black shoes could've been used as a mirror.

His hair was slightly longer than Jim's, although still well short of his collar.

Jim's choice was just as smart, but more casual. Immaculately pressed dark grey dockers, a white, open necked shirt and his favourite black leather jacket.

Knowing how well dressed Hunter always was, Blair had made an effort to dress with more care than his usual multi-layer casual gear he wore to the University and the PD.

His new black jeans, blue shirt and black leather jacket were smart enough to get him into most of the places they might want to visit; even more than that, he was comfortable wearing them.

Hunter smiled at them and shook hands, asking if Blair had recovered from his flu.

Blair was surprised the other man had known he'd been ill, but said that he was fine now.

Hunter turned to his cousin. "You look like you've had an argument recently, Jim."

Ellison grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, the brick wall came off best," he said.

Hunter nodded solemnly. "Yes, they usually do, they're harder than your head."

Jim punched him lightly on the arm. "Where do you want to have lunch?" he asked.

"They have a fine restaurant here... unless you'd rather go to Wonderburger."

Blair looked horrified, and Hunter relented. "It's okay Blair, no burgers today."

Blair heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "You had me worried there for a minute."

Hunter moved further into the lobby, heading for the elevators. "They have a great selection of seafood, plus the usual..."

Blair had followed with Jim, but when he saw the plain doors of the elevators, he stopped, his heart pounding in an old fear.

Jim had moved on a few steps, then paused, picking up on his partner's distress. "Blair?"

Blair gulped and said. "Okay, if I meet you at the restaurant, Jim?"

Jim frowned, then glancing at the elevators, he suddenly realised, they looked exactly the same as the ones in Wilkinson Towers, and that particular location had to bring back bad memories and old fears.

"Blair," he said gently, "we can go somewhere else. It doesn't have to be here."

For a moment Blair looked relieved, then he shook his head. He wasn't going to spoil the day by being a wimp.

"No, no, that's okay. I'll just walk up, if you don't mind. Need the exercise anyway."

Hunter had come back to see what the delay was. "Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong," said Blair quickly. "Just remembered a little errand. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

"Chief... it's on the top floor," Jim said quietly.

Blair glanced at the row of doors again, noticing how many stairs he would have to climb. It was a lot. He gulped again. He still preferred to walk up.

He saw Hunter look at Jim, then at him, his expression a little puzzled.

His own face flushed with embarrassment. Whatever credibility he'd had with Hunter, would now turn to contempt. He waited for Jim to tell his cousin that his roommate was afraid of elevators. He started to turn away, he had to get out of here.

Jim's hand on his arm made him pause. "Hey Chief, is that errand of yours anywhere near to that little Italian place that has the great lasagne?"

Blair looked up in surprise. Jim's face wore a look of enquiry, as though it was no big deal, but his eyes were warm and compassionate - and very supportive.

Blair felt tears gather in the back of his eyes. What had he ever done to gain a friend like Jim Ellison?

He felt as though something that had been blocking his mind start to melt, and with it, some of the fear. Gathering his courage he turned back to Hunter.

"What Jim is trying to avoid telling you is that I'm not too keen on elevators that go up more than a few floors. I had a bad experience in one a few months ago."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"He was trapped with three other people in an elevator at Wilkinson Towers when a madman threatened to drop the car all the way down." Jim paused and grinned wryly. "The madman also left a bomb with them."

Hunter's eyes widened and he looked at Blair. "I'm not surprised you have a problem with elevators. I don't like them much either, but that's because they're too cramped." He paused. "You pick where to go for lunch, Blair. You know this city better than I do."

Blair could hardly believe his ears. He searched Hunter's face for any sign of insincerity, but found nothing but understanding. Not even a trace of contempt, or pity, marked the features so similar to that of his best friend.

"I do know some great places," he said slowly, beginning to brighten up, then paused. He had to face his fears once again. He'd already tried, and failed, to ride the elevators at Wilkinson Towers on his own. Maybe he could do it with the help of his friends. "I always like to try new places though, and I've never been here. Maybe we should just go see if this place is as good as Vincent says it is." He turned to Ellison and raised an eyebrow.

Jim searched his friend's expressive face, knowing a little of what it cost Blair to suggest this action.

"You sure, Chief?" he asked quietly.

"No, not really," Blair shrugged. "But I have to try it sometime."

"Okay, then." He turned to his cousin. "Let's go see if you're right. Okay?"

Hunter nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Blair's face. "Let's do it," he said simply.

Moving slowly forward, the two taller man flanked the smaller figure, letting him lead the way to the banks of elevators, with their bland, featureless doors.

Trying not to drag his feet as he had on similar occasions, Blair reached the doors and paused. Without looking, he could sense Jim and Hunter on either side of him, supportive without pushing him.

With a hand that trembled slightly, Blair pushed the up button and waited for the doors to his nightmare to open.

Without warning, the bell sounded and the doors slid open. It was empty.

Blair couldn't move. His feet seemed stuck to the floor.

Jim suddenly limped into the car, and held open the door, while Hunter stayed beside Blair.

"You coming, Blair?" Jim asked quietly.

Blair raised his eyes from where they'd been studying the floor and looked up at Jim.

His friend, his sentinel, was standing there so patiently, waiting for him to decide, knowing he needed just a little encouragement, but willing to let him walk away if he needed to do so.

Just then there was movement behind them and two women walked round them to get into the elevator, smiling their thanks at the gentleman holding the doors.

Jim started to come out of the car, unwilling to leave Blair with Hunter if his friend changed his mind.

Blair stepped forward, his face white, but determined. "Yes, I'm coming, thanks, Jim."

Hunter moved with him and they stood beside Jim as he released the door button.

"Can you push number 10, please?" asked the older of the two women, and Jim complied.

He stood on Blair's right, Hunter on the other side.

"You recommend anything on the menu here, Hunter?"

Hunter lifted his eyes, meeting Jim's and nodded in understanding. Casual and easy.

"One of the guys at the Reservation Desk, says that the steak here is out of this world. Nice and thick and juicy. Mashed potatoes that taste like potatoes and not some stringy mush."

"Sounds like your kind of meal, huh Jim?" The quiet voice took both the older men by surprise. "Me, I think I'll have a look at the seafood menu."

Jim glanced down at his friend, whose hands were clenched tightly by his sides.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan, Chief. Brain food, for a brainy guy."

The bell sounded for the tenth floor, and the two women exited, still talking about their latest dates.

Jim waited, tensed more than he would admit, in case Blair moved out after them, but the grad student stayed put.

An eternity later, after three more stops for people to get on and off, the car arrived at the rooftop restaurant.

Jim heaved an inward sigh of relief. One hurdle crossed, now for the rest.

Hunter moved first, trying to keep it as casual as possible.

"This way, gentlemen..."

Jim waited for Blair to move, and with a hand on his shoulder, guided his friend towards the Maitre De.

He felt the tense shoulders relax, just a fraction, and he slowed his limp even more to give Blair the extra seconds to compose himself.

He was surprised when Blair stopped, turned, and looked back at the elevator.

"I really did it, didn't I, Jim?" It was only Jim's sensitive hearing that caught the awed whisper.

"You sure did, partner." Jim's voice was low but audible to Blair. "I'm proud of you, Chief. That wasn't an easy thing to do."

Blair looked up at him, his white face beginning to smile.

"I couldn't have done it without your help, Jim. Thanks," he said simply.

"Yes, I think you could have, on your own, but I'm happy to help, Blair. That's what friends are for, aren't they?"

"That's for sure, Jim, that's for sure."

He squeezed Jim's hand still lying on his shoulder, then turned back to the waiting Hunter.

"Now, let's eat, I'm starved."

Jim smiled as he walked towards his waiting cousin and nodded, seeing Hunter relax just a fraction. He was pleased the way that Hunter had behaved with Sandburg, it looked like his cousin had taken to the long-haired student more than he would have supposed.

Sandburg liked people, and most people liked him back.

Blair's heart had slowed its frantic pace as he walked towards the table waiting for them. For most of the trip to the restaurant, he'd been almost numb with terror. Waiting for the jerk that would signal the car dropping them to their deaths, only able to hold on by the thought of the man standing by his side, Jim's warmth and the concern he could almost feel radiating from his sentinel. He'd wanted to run every time the car had stopped for other passengers, but the thought of Jim's disappointment in him, and maybe even Hunter's scorn of his cowardice, had kept his feet rooted to the expensive carpet on the floor. He couldn't - wouldn't - give in to his fear.

He knew he still had a way to go with his fear of heights and elevators, but at least he'd taken a big step, helped by the man he thought of as his best friend, whom he loved like the big brother he'd always wanted.

Maybe he'd even be able to look at the view from the big picture windows... then again - noticing he could see just the tops of the buildings through the shining glass - maybe not.

One step at a time...

Dusty Tyree
(c) 25th May 2007