SquidgeWorld Archive

To Know the Difference
by Roxie

"Jim, love is not a life sentence. It doesn't bind you, it... it frees you."

"I can't love like that, Chief."

"Why not?"

Jim shrugged in frustration, unable to make Blair see his point of view. "I'm not made that way. I can't completely commit myself to another person. I've tried, I mean look at Carolyn. I couldn't open up to her. That's probably why we didn't make it."

"And why is that?" Blair urged gently.

"I just can't make that kind of commitment."

"Can't or won't?" Blair asked stubbornly, his hands on his hips, his face open and sincere.

"What's the difference?"

Blair laughed. "Sorry, man. You'll have to figure that one out for yourself. Let me know if you ever do."

"It's hypothetical anyway," Jim said as Blair turned away from the impromptu discussion.

"Is it?" Blair asked without looking back.

"Well, seeing how I'm not even in a relationship right now, I'd have to say yes."

Blair shook his head and went into his room, Jim sighed and turned his attention back to the TV, wondering how in the world they had gotten into that conversation. When Blair returned, he was strapping on his shoulder holster.

"Where are you going?" Jim asked, still unused to the site of Blair with a gun.

"To work," Blair said absently as he checked his service revolver and slid it confidently into place.

"We're off today," Jim argued.

"No, you're off today. I'm on the security detail for the political rally in the park."

"What? What bone head pulled you for that? Let me call Simon..."

"Jim, it's cool. I volunteered."

"Oh, so you're the bone head." Jim groaned then got to his feet. "Give me a minute."

"Sit down and watch the game. I don't need you to hold my hand for this," Blair said with a touch of irritation as he slipped his arms into his jacket and went into the kitchen to snag a bottle of water to drink on the way.

"No way, Chief. Where you go, I go."

"Jim, just listen for a minute," Blair started impatiently. "I'm a cop now. Sometimes I'm going to have to do things without you, man. That's just the way it is."

"Simon knows that we do these things together," Jim said darkly.

"He also knows that I have to pay my dues."

"You've paid your dues, Chief. What about the four years you worked with me without drawing a paycheck? What about all those hours of stakeouts and putting your life on the line without so much as a gun? I'd call those dues, and so would the rest of Major Crime, including Simon," Jim lectured as he made his way into the kitchen to face his Guide.

"Yeah, well, the other ninety-nine point nine percent of the police department disagrees with you, Jim. I have to do the same things the rest of the rookies have to do to prove themselves if I'm ever gonna fit in."

"You don't have to try and fit in, Sandburg. Either they will accept you or they won't. You'll be with me most of the time anyway."

Blair sighed and leaned against the cabinet. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay? Right or wrong, this is the path that I have chosen. I chose to become your partner, but in doing that, I also chose to become a cop. I'm not just a mascot any more. I have to be able to function independently as a member of the team. That means knowing that when I call for backup that they'll come. That means trusting other cops to watch my back in dangerous situations. That means paying my dues."

"Fine," Jim said reluctantly. "Call me later and let me know how things are going."

"Don't count on it. I'll be pretty busy. I want to hear this guy's speech anyway before I decide whether or not I'm going to vote for him."

"Oh. So after all that, you've got ulterior motives?"

"Always, man," Blair said with a grin. He opened the door, but stopped and turned back around to face his partner, his face suddenly serious. "You know what my greatest fear is?" he asked unexpectedly.

"No, what?" Jim asked slowly, meeting Blair's somehow hesitant eyes.

"I'm afraid that one time too many I'll let you walk out this door without you knowing how I feel about you, and that it'll be too late to tell you."

Jim smiled a little. "Well, let me put your fears to rest. I already know how you feel about me."

"Do you?" Blair asked, still looking unsure.

"Of course, you're terrible at hiding your feelings," Jim assured.

"Right. Unlike you," Blair said softly. "Later, man."

Jim stood and stared at the closed door for several minutes, contemplating his friend while he tracked his heartbeat all the way to the street below. Maybe he should have let Blair say whatever it was that he was feeling this time instead of doing the macho thing. Blair could have surprised him, he supposed, and said something other than I love you like a brother. Jim reasoned that he didn't need to hear the words, but maybe Blair needed to say them. Feeling a little guilty, he decided to try to coax Blair into talking about it when he got home. He might even come up with some words of his own, but that wasn't likely. He didn't think he could put into words what he felt for Blair. He didn't know if he even wanted the kid to know how empty he was inside without him. It was harder and harder to watch Blair walk away, even though he knew in his heart that he would always come back. Blair would always come home, Jim was sure of it.

***

True to his word, Sandburg didn't call. Jim passed the day pleasantly enough reading and cleaning after watching a softball tournament on TV. Occasionally, the thought to just drop by the park and see how things were going crossed his mind. He quickly dismissed the idea, knowing that Blair would only think that he was checking up on him. Blair could after all, take care of himself. He wasn't a greenhorn rookie, despite what everyone else might think. He'd proven himself time and time again, thinking fast on his feet, out smarting the bad guys. And he was trying to prove himself still. Jim wondered why the insecurity.

As far as Jim was concerned, Sandburg didn't have anything to be insecure about. He was smart, funny, attractive.... Ok, yeah. So Jim could admit to himself that his roommate was a good looking guy. He had a nice build; short but solid, broad shoulders, narrow waist, firm ass. Jim had noticed, he was human. It was also hard to miss the firm jaw, intelligent blue eyes and soft brown curls. And he liked the way Blair moved; full of energy and life. He also liked the way Blair smelled, not his aftershave, but that deeper, earthy smell that was all Blair. He loved to watch his eyes as he spoke, so eloquent, saying as much as or more than his words. He loved that voice, reacting to it in a way.... Whoa. Jim stopped his runaway thoughts when he realized that he was getting hard just thinking about him. Shit. When the hell did he start thinking of Blair this way? This had to stop. Blair would freak. Or would he?

What exactly had Blair been trying to say? Why was he so concerned that Jim didn't believe in love? Sandburg wasn't as flighty as he wanted everyone to believe. When he gave his heart, he gave it all the way. Even now, not splitting his time between the station and the university anymore, Blair didn't date all that much. Hard to believe when there was evidence of a long line of female followers everywhere they went. Sandburg had been exasperated at Jim's flippant opinion of love in general, but there had been something else evident in those expressive eyes. Pain. As if Jim's attitude somehow hurt him personally.

Blair had been ready to say something, something important, but Jim had blown him off. I love you. Could that have been it? Would Jim have accepted it in the right way? Blair had tried, he had to give him credit for that. It took a lot of courage to tell a tough old ex-ranger cop that you love him. Especially when there was no evidence that it was reciprocated. Or was there? Jim thought about the way they acted toward each other, how he treated Blair. Could he have inadvertently sent the wrong message? Or worse, could he have sent the right message, and didn't realize it himself?

Think of something else, Jim told himself firmly and purposefully thought of.... Blair.

Blair was definitely brave. Did he mention brave before? And loyal to a fault. Oh, sure, Blair had his faults, too. He was stubborn, argumentative, and he could talk a blue streak. He was full of arcane information that nobody really needed to know, but even that came in handy from time to time. Plus, his emotions were never hard to read, if that could be considered a fault. Blair couldn't hide feelings if his life depended on it. He could lie with his voice and his face with the best of 'em, but his eyes always told the truth.

There was Jim's answer. It had been written so painfully clear in Blair's eyes that a blind man could have seen it. But not a Sentinel apparently. Ears that could hear for a thousand miles, but that couldn't hear what was in his own heart. Eyes that could see forever, except what was written in the eyes of his one true... love.

Jim sighed. Back to that again. Can't or won't. It all came down to can't or won't. Blair would give it all, but he wouldn't take any less than everything in return. He needed to know if Jim could give it. One sided relationships never worked, and the kid knew it. Can't or won't. Jim would have to give some serious thought to that. It wasn't hypothetical anymore.

***

It was a beautiful day to be in the park. For once the sun was shining and warm, but the breeze coming off the bay still had a chill. Enough to keep Blair cool, even in his leather jacket. The turnout was greater than had been expected, making the security detail come up a little short. Threats had been made against the politician, and were being taken seriously, although the brass had no real concern for his safety. They were just going through the motions, providing what was expected. The officers on scene however were far from complacent. They knew that even with an inadequate number, they still had a job to do, and didn't let the weather lull them into a false sense of security.

Blair scanned the crowd as he stood on the dais behind the speaker. He kept one ear on the speech and one on the occasional word of two coming through his earpiece. The mayor wannabe had some good points. How much was sincere and how much just plain rhetoric, Blair wasn't sure yet. The guy said all the right things, but wasn't that the name of the game? Say what people want to hear and forget it the minute you're elected. When did he get so cynical, Blair wondered idly. Geez, he sounded just like Jim. Okay, don't go there. Keep your eyes and ears open and do your damn job. Thoughts of Jim would have to wait until he was off duty, or at least the heavy soul searching stuff could wait. Right now, Blair knew he had to be sharp. Just in case.

"Something's up," a voice crackled in Blair's ear. Ever more vigilant, Blair wished for Sentinel vision as he swept his eyes over the sea of faces in front of the grandstand. He reached into his jacket without drawing attention to himself and unhooked the strap on his holster.

There was movement in the crowd and Blair caught the glint of sun off metal. "Gun!" someone shouted as Blair drew his weapon and surged forward just as he heard the thunder of two shots crack the air around him. The impact threw the speaker back into him and they both went down. The next twenty seconds were a blur, then time seemed to shift and everything after that happened in slow motion.

***

Jim found himself in Blair's room, in theory to put away laundry. He breathed in Blair's scent almost unconsciously, letting it relax him. The pictures along the narrow shelf of the window ledge caught his attention and he dropped the pair of socks in his hand on the bed and moved to have a closer look. He decided that pictures didn't do Blair justice. They just didn't capture the sparkle in his eyes. Can't? Or won't?

A distant siren drew him back from his thoughts. Then he heard another. An ambulance joined in. Now two. Jim wandered out to the balcony to judge direction and distance of the rising cacophony. The park near the bay. A sudden, irrational fear gripped his chest as Blair's words somehow became prophetic.

"I'm afraid that one time too many I'll let you walk out this door without you knowing how I feel about you, and that it'll be too late to tell you."

Except that Blair was the one who had walked out the door. Now Jim knew the answer. Not can't. Not even won't. He prayed that it wasn't too late as he bolted from the loft.

***

"Where's Sandburg?" Jim shouted as he made a mad dash towards the yellow taped section of the park.

"I don't know. He was stationed on the dais," a uniform offered distractedly.

The smell of blood was overwhelming without his Guide, so Jim turned his sense of smell down as far as he could before his already cartwheeling stomach betrayed him. "Sandburg?" he asked again as he jumped onto the small stage and took in the smeared puddle of blood.

"He's gone to the hospital," a voice informed him.

"Was he hurt?" Jim asked anxiously, turning to see Randy Bernard, the crusty old detective who was apparently in charge of the scene.

"I don't know for sure. There was a lot of blood, it was hard to tell. I know he was in one of the ambulances. He got the shooter, though."

"Blair did?"

"Yeah. One shot. Hey Ellison, where're ya goin'?" Jim heard as he sprinted back to the truck.

***

Coming in through the ambulance doors, Jim flashed his badge at the security guard who got up to meet him. The rent-a-cop quickly backed down and let him pass. Turning up his hearing, Jim prowled the inner sanctum of the ER, but found no sound of his partner. With an ironic twist from the usual script, Jim found someone to let him out into the lobby. The first face he saw was Simon's.

"Hey, Jim. What are you doing here? I thought you were off today?" his boss asked in surprise.

"Where is he?" Jim asked a little breathlessly.

"He's interviewing a witness. Why?" Simon asked, knowing instinctively that the Sentinel was looking for his Guide as he took in the anxious face and worried demeanor of his detective. "Jim? What's wrong?"

"Blair's okay?" Jim croaked out.

"He's fine," Simon assured, grasping his friend by the elbow and levering him into a chair. "Why would you think he's not?"

"I heard the sirens from the park. There were so many...."

"Jim...."

"I just knew. I knew it was too late. It's not fair, Simon. I didn't know before, but I do now. It can't be too late."

"Jesus, Jim. You're rambling. You sound just like Sandburg," Simon teased gently as he tried to make sense of the strange, one-way conversation.

Abruptly Jim snapped back to his usual calm bearing. "Sorry. I'm just not used to him going out on his own like that. It scared me," he tried to explain without going into too much detail.

"He did good, Jim. You should be proud. In fact, he insisted that Mr. DeWitt wear a vest. Threw one of his patented Sandburg hissy fits until the guy gave in. It saved his life. And frankly I'm a little relieved by the way Blair handled himself under fire."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't sure if he could do it. Draw on someone. You know, actually pull the trigger. I was concerned about it," Simon confessed.

Jim sighed and looked down at his clasped hands that hung between his knees. He felt a little shaky as his adrenaline high slipped away. "He's okay?" he asked again just to be sure.

Simon chuckled, causing Jim to look up with a glare. "What's so funny?"

"You," Simon answered cryptically. "Look at you. You're worse than a wife. You've been on the cop end of this deal for years, but you never considered the other side."

"What the hell are you talking about? Other side of what?"

"We've got a dangerous job."

"Yeah. And?"

"Now Sandburg has the same job that we do. Every time he straps on his gun, he's a target. You've got to accept that, Detective. You've got to come to terms with it, cause you're not always going to be there to protect him."

"Where is he now?" Jim asked again.

"He's in the surgical holding area with DeWitt. The guy would have been okay if he hadn't thrown his arm up after the first shot. The second one caught him in the forearm. I understand it's quite a mess," Simon explained with a grimace. "Go find him, Jim. You're not going to be satisfied until you see him for yourself."

Jim gave a sheepish little grin. "You're right," he agreed as he stood and walked away.

"He's gonna be a great cop, Jim," Simon said softly. "Give him a chance."

***

"Thanks for your time, Mr. DeWitt," Blair's voice said on the other side of the door. Jim leaned against the wall and waited. He could be patient now that he could hear what he had been searching for, feeling almost limp as the tension drained away from him.

"Thank you, Detective. You saved my life."

"Hey, you owe me some Kevlar," Blair teased. Several other voices joined in the laugh. Jim didn't bother to sort them out.

In a few minutes the surgical team arrived and went into the room briefly before returning to the hall with the stretcher and the man who might someday be Cascade's new mayor. "So, Sandburg, not bad for your first time firing your weapon. You winged the guy without killing him. I hear he's gonna make it," Hartman from IA's voice said.

"Yeah, not bad for a rookie," another voice agreed. It sounded like Richard Capshaw, one of Blair's least favorite uniformed officers.

"Bite me, Dick," Blair retorted, sounding quite pleased with himself as the door opened and the three cops came out into the hall. Jim noticed immediately that Blair was wearing a scrub top instead of the flannel shirt he had been wearing when he left the loft. "Hey, Jim. What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on the little guy, Detective?" Capshaw asked with a hint of amusement.

"Nah," Jim denied with a shrug. "I just thought you guys could use some help clearing up the mess. But I can see you've got it under control."

"Don't worry, Jim. There's always the paper work," Blair said with an evil glint in his eye.

"I'd hate to deprive you of that, Chief. Besides, you've got all the extra stuff to do because you fired your weapon in the field. Internal Affairs and all that," Jim said, eyeing Hartman who eyed him back, not without empathy. Jim filled out the extra paper work more than anyone on the force, or so it seemed sometimes.

"Don't worry, kid. It was a righteous shoot in front of three hundred witnesses. This'll be cleared up by five o'clock," Hartman assured with a thump to Sandburg's back. "Like I said, nice shot."

"Like you could have missed," Capshaw teased. "He was only six feet away."

Six feet away? Suddenly Jim felt queasy. Six feet away from six foot under. "Excuse me," he said as he made his way to the men's room down the hall.

"You okay, man?" Blair called after him.

Jim waved a hand, but didn't speak or turn around. "He'll be okay, Blair," Hartman said softly. "Sometimes it's hard on us old timers, watching our babies grow up. Give him a minute."

"I'm not a baby," Blair declared with indignation.

"That's what you think," Capshaw laughed and pinched Blair's cheek. "A baby, and a rookie!"

"I thought you didn't like me?" Blair asked brazenly.

Capshaw wrapped a fatherly arm around the young detective. "Yeah, well. You're startin' to grow on me. I think you'll be just fine, once we season you up a little. I need a new project...."

***

Jim lost his lunch as soon as he burst into the first available stall in the bathroom. He hadn't realized it had been that close. In his head, he knew it didn't matter. Six feet or sixty, a bullet can kill. Dead is dead. But Blair was not dead. He was fine. He was out in the hall taking a ribbing from the older cops in his good-natured way. And he was right. He was a cop now, and had to earn the respect and trust of his fellow officers, uniform and plain clothes alike. As usual, he was winning them over.

Flushing the toilet, Jim moved to the sink and washed his face and hands. He studied himself in the mirror and tried to decide if he looked any different as he dried his face with a paper towel. Finally he came to the conclusion that he wasn't any different than he had been before he realized that he was in love with his best friend. Maybe a little wiser, but not any different.

As he dropped the paper towel into the trash can on the way out, a glimpse of blue plaid caught his eye. Without thought for sanitation or safety, he reached into the garbage and pulled out the bloodied material. His sight was eclipsed by a vision of Blair in the shirt walking out the door.

"I'm afraid that one time too many I'll let you walk out this door without you knowing how I feel about you, and that it'll be too late to tell you."

His knees gave out and Jim found himself on the floor staring at the crimson stains. As he clasped the garment to his chest the door opened and Blair came in.

"Oh, Jim. That's nasty. Come on, give it up," Blair said, as he eased the now dry and crusty fabric from the rough grip. "Not my blood, man," he soothed as he returned the shirt to the trash. "Easy, big guy. Let's wash your hands." Blair reached down to pull up his friend, but found himself pulled down instead.

"Your greatest fear has become my greatest fear," Jim offered by way of explanation, not releasing his hold on Blair's hands or letting his gaze stray from his face.

Blair settled cross legged on the floor in front of his partner as gracefully as he could without the use of his arms. "Can this wait 'til we get home?" he asked gently.

"No. I never want you to go out another door until you know how I feel about you."

With a quick glance at the bathroom door that they were seated dangerously in front of, Blair nodded. "I'm listening."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too."

"No. I mean... I can. I will," Jim tried to clarify as someone tried to enter the room, almost hitting Blair with the door. Jim released one of Blair's hands to push it closed. "Occupied," he shouted. "Come back later."

"Sorry," someone muttered from the hall.

Blair was staring at him intensely. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Jim answered sincerely before looking away. "I never dreamed we'd be having this particular conversation," he sighed, still not quite believing that they were.

"Oh, I knew we'd have it someday," Blair assured with a smirk. "I just never dared to dream it would be in a public restroom."

They sat for another minute or so, neither knowing exactly what to say or do. "Come on,"
Blair said at last. "I've got paper work to do. You can stand guard while I work."

Jim smiled and let himself be pulled to his feet. Placing one hand firmly on the door, he pulled Sandburg to him with the other and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "We have nothing left to fear," he said softly and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

The End
Feedback: Roxie130@aol.com