SquidgeWorld Archive

Disclaimer: Not mine, to my everlasting sorrow.
Notes: Heartfelt thanks to my betas Morrolan and Bobbie, as well as to Sheila and Mice for their helpful comments. And, of course, to Peggy for really fast proofreading. Submitted to Horizontal Mosaic #10.

***

It was a cloudy, cold spring night in Cascade. The loft shared by sentinel James Ellison and guide Blair Sandburg was dark, lit only by reflections from the streetlights and blaring neon signs on nearby buildings.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Jim asked softly. He was lying on his back watching the cloudy night sky through the roof window of his bedroom. Blair sprawled beside him on the mussed up bed. The smells of their recent lovemaking hung heavily in the air. The combined scents were still new and somewhat unfamiliar to the sentinel's wrinkling nose.

"Yep. I've thought this out, and the Police Academy is the best choice for me right now," Blair explained in a patient tone. Jim was well aware that this was not the first time he had asked the exact same thing, but then again, he recognised his lack of self-confidence in anything of a personal nature.

"You'll have to walk the beat for a while," Jim commented, finally turning to look at his lover.

"Not if I specialize," Blair said with a grin.

"Specialize?" Jim was not sure what his guide meant.

Blair slithered closer to him. "Mm-mmm. I've already checked. There are quite a few fields I could specialize in, given my background."

"You really have it all planned out," Jim said slowly He should have known his guide would have more than one detailed plan ready by now. Blair had never been content to merely stand on the sidelines and watch the world go by.

"Of course. Well, except maybe for this part." Blair caressed Jim's smooth, sweaty chest. "Though I'm glad you finally decided to take the plunge. My balls were getting blue from the pent-up tension, you know," Blair teased his new lover.

Jim felt heat in his cheeks and knew he was blushing. "Well, you've certainly been making up for lost time this weekend."

"It's only Sunday evening," Blair pointed out as he settled on Jim.

Jim gasped as he felt Blair's erection. "Must have been a really bad case of blue balls, if you're still raring to go."

"You don't know the half of it. So, how about it?" Blair asked as he leaned down.

"Well, for a good cause."

***

A few months later

A tall, slightly overweight man in his early 30s was smoking a cigarette as he waited for the light to turn green. An old mug in the car's bottle holder served as an ashtray.

I sure hope Ken won't cause too much of a fuss, he thought. They would have to leave that evening; he was not yet sure exactly where they would go, but they could not stay in Cascade. Not anymore. He had quit his "illegal activities" (as the police would call them), and since he was not threatening to go to the police or blackmailing Casey, it was possible she would leave them alone... but you never knew. The bitch could cause trouble for him just for the fun of it. Better to just pack up and get out of town. Settle down in some large place where two men living together wouldn't stand out.

The light turned green, and his reliable old car took off with a purr, much to the surprise of the guy in the flashy new BMW behind him. But first I have to take care of Wilson's flowers, for the last time.

***

Gentle sunlight streamed in through the large windows, illuminating the quietly peaceful loft, whose occupants were lying on the large bed upstairs, their limbs in a haphazard tangle. Eyes closed, the larger man indulged in a stretch and a snuggle. The slightly smaller person being cuddled groaned and mumbled something that might have been an inquiry as to the time. Jim smiled. Blair was so cute during the early mornings. Since he was actually awake by now, he decided that he might just as well open his eyes. He glanced at the clock on the night table, just in case his lover had been asking about the time. You never knew with Blair, especially before his third cup of coffee.

"It's 5:30 am, Chief."

The snuggable bundle in his arms tensed up. "5:30? It's Monday, right?"

"Yep." Jim turned to lie on his back and stretch.

"Gotta get up," Blair said. He jumped up from the bed, still yawning, and hurried downstairs.

Jim stared after him in amazement. Blair was not usually this eager to get up and get going. The sentinel's curiosity had definitely been aroused. Something else had been aroused by the sight, too, but unfortunately it was Monday morning.

Jim sighed and got up to perform his own morning routines.

***

"Blair!"

The guide started and froze by the kitchen counter. He looked kind of silly with a bagel half in his mouth and a coffee cup in his hand.

"What's going on?" the sentinel asked suspiciously. He was standing by the fridge getting ready to make breakfast for them both. By an unspoken tradition, Monday mornings were his responsibility.

"An interviewâ€"and an aptitude test or two," Blair added under his breath. He took a bite of the bagel.

"You've already been through those," Jim said. He was becoming more and more confused.

"To the Academy, sure, but this is for... a specialist course," Blair replied in between chewing and swallowing. The answer didn't really clarify the issue.

"Blair, I thought we'd agreed not to keep any secrets from each other?" Jim didn't need to fake any of the disappointmentâ€"or the sadnessâ€"in his voice.

Blair put the remains of his hurried breakfast on the counter and quickly walked to his lover.

"I know, but I don't want to jinx this. I also want to do this completely on my own, and, well, if I don't make it, that will be that." The guide hugged his sentinel, who was actually pouting. Jim hated being in the dark. He also hated secrets and riddles.

"When do you get the results?" Jim asked, with a resigned sigh. He automatically hugged his lover back.

"Tomorrow, I hope." Blair nuzzled Jim's chin with his nose.

"When does the course start? You don't have to go out of state or anything for it, do you?" Jim could feel his worry building at the disquieting thought.

"No, you don't need to worry about that," Blair stated.

***

Jim drove towards the Cascade PD amidst heavy morning traffic. It was a sunny day, and the wind was mild enough to be refreshing rather than biting. The sentinel was still worrying about the news bombâ€"or a preview of the news bomb, to be more preciseâ€"Blair had dropped that morning. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. On the one hand, it was good that Blair was using his intelligence and getting ahead, but on the other hand, this could mean that he would be working with other departments, that he could get transferred out of Major Crime, and who knew what else. Then there was the fact that Blair didn't want to tell him what it was. It could just be that he didn't want to worry him overly muchâ€"or maybe he didn't want Jim interfering in any way. His lover had said that he wanted this to be something he had done on his own, from the beginning to the end. But this whole relationship is supposed to be a partnership, something we do together. Then again, they would talk about it, once Blair got the results. The final decisions would be made together. He was certain of it. He just hoped it wouldn't require Blair leaving.

Jim sighed. He really did have it bad. Wouldn't have it any other way, either. Not anymore.

The sentinel drove into the garage and parked his truck in its usual place. It didn't really matter that much what Blair had in mind; he knew his lover would talk with him before making any important decisions that would affect both their lives. In the end, he trusted his guide.... even if he was damn curious as to what the love of his life had planned.

His partner for the day, Joel Taggert, was waiting for him by the elevators, having noticed Ellison driving in.

"Morning. How's Sandburg doing?" the large detective asked. In fact, it seemed to be the favourite question in the bullpen of late. Jim had lost track of how many times people had asked him that, and no doubt more would keep asking. Maybe he should put up a bulletin board of Blair's progress.

"Actually, he's doing very well at the Academy, but he was hinting about applying for some kind of specialist courses or something like that this morning." Jim hoped his voice didn't reveal any of the mixed feelings he was having about it.

"Can he do that? As a cadet, I mean," Joel asked as they stepped into the elevator.

"Looks like those years as an unofficial consultant give him enough credits to go for it."

"Good to hear; can't imagine him as your average cop, anyway," Joel commented, smiling.

Jim grinned in agreement. His lover was anything but average.

The oddly matched pair walked into the bullpen together, heading for their respective desks. As soon as the sentinel had turned on his computer, Simon Banks stepped out of his office.

"Taggert! Ellison! My office, now!" the captain shouted. He was a firm believer in a traditional bellow rather than a phone call, intercoms or any other modern inventions.

The detectives in question glanced at each other, then walked to their captain's office. Jim closed the door behind them.

"There's been a murder at Garret Wilson's greenhouse," Simon stated, after a hasty good morning. He looked worried. "Wilson's a well-connected producer, which is why Major Crime has been called in. He is an avid orchid collector and would very much like to have his greenhouse back ASAP, the sooner the better." The large captain sighed.

"Just what happened?" Joel asked.

"That's what the two of you are going to find out," Simon said firmly. "I want this solved today, or even sooner if you can manage it."

The pair nodded obediently. "Yes, sir."

"Here's what we have on the case so far," Simon said, handing Joel a thin folder. "Now shoo; go solve a murder."

***

"Not much in here," Joel said. He was going over the thin file while Jim drove them to the crime scene.

"It would have been suspiciously convenient if there had been."

"Think we can solve this today?" Joel asked as he closed the file.

"Depends. If there's an obvious suspect, then maybe."

Joel nodded, then grabbed the door handle as Jim took a turn a bit too fast for his liking.

***

Wilson's house was situated in a better part of town, though not in the trendiest area. It resembled a large Spanish villa with its white walls and round arches, red roof tiles topping it all. Jim liked it.

He parked the truck in the driveway behind one of the patrol cars already there. The two detectives walked past the uniformed officers in the hall straight to the back of the house. Collins and Oldenbourg had been the first ones on the scene and were currently sitting on a rose patterned sofa situated by the door to the terrace. Soft sun light streamed through think white curtains. The officers exchanged warm greetings.

Collins and Oldenbourg had already checked the house itself, and had not found anything out of the ordinary there.

"Looks like our perp just killed the victim in the greenhouse and left without coming into the house itself," Collins commented with a shrug.

The two uniformed officers had not found out anything new and soon left. The Major Crime detectives went to the terrace. The greenhouse had been built in the back yard, only a short walk away from an expensively furnished back terrace.

Jim stood on the terrace for a few seconds to observe the lush garden. It had obviously been designed by a professional or a very keen amateurâ€"the colours and forms matched too well for it to have been merely the work of nature. Nothing had been left to chance.

Jim noticed two people on the terrace, but decided to concentrate on the murder scene first. He followed the path to the greenhouse, hurrying a bit to catch up with Joel.

They stepped into the glass structure past a uniformed officer guarding the crime scene. The soft, moist air, heavy with the fragrance of growing things, hit them as they entered the greenhouse. A team of crime scene investigators was already busy at work amidst the colourfully vibrant jungle. There were thousands of orchids of all imaginable hues and forms in the large enclosure, and most of them were in full bloom.

"Achoo!"

All the people turned to look at Jim.

"Okay, let's get you outside," Joel told his sneezing partner. He moved to herd the sentinel back through the door.

"I'm okay... Achoo! It's just... Achoo!"

"I know." Joel said as he steered the obviously allergic sentinel outside. "You just question the usual suspects, and I'll check out the corpse. Deal?" His tone made it clear that the matter was not really up for negotiation.

Jim nodded reluctantly, in between sneezes. He had to admit, the idea did have some merit to it. His nose was itching like hell, and his throat felt like it was about to swell shut.

***

Joel looked after Jim as he left the greenhouse. He shook his head. Ellison was a good detective, but sometimes he just didn't know when to give up. Fortunately he had unbent some, thanks mostly to Sandburg's influence.

Joel shook his head again and turned to look over the scene.

"Okay, what do we have?" he asked as he walked over to the corpse.

"And he's a detective," Joel heard the photographer mumbling. The grey-haired, middle-aged man was a new one, or at least someone Joel had not seen before.

"Hey! Ellison happens to be allergic to flowers. If he can't inspect a crime scene, that's what partners are for. His allergies don't make him any less capable," Joel stated.

"If you say so," the photographer said. You could hear the disbelief in his tone from a mile away.

Joel shook his head in annoyance and turned to check the murder victim. He hoped the guy would learn better in time. There was little room for prejudices in their work.

***

Jim leaned against a tree trunk and concentrated on breathingâ€"without sneezing. As Blair would say; I so don't need this, not now.

"Detective, are you all right?" a uniformed officer asked. It was the same one who had been standing by the greenhouse door.

Jim nodded, then sneezed again.

"I'm okay," he wheezed. He glanced at the nametag on the uniform. "Officer Swanwick."

Swanwick nodded, obviously not buying it, and stayed nearby. Oh great, that's all I need, another mother hen.

After a few minutes, Jim's nose had calmed down some, and his breathing was more regular. He started to feel normal again. Sentinel normal, that is.

"'Scuse me, can you tell me where Wilson is?" Jim asked the young officer who was still hovering around.

Swanwick pointed him toward the back terrace, where he could see a middle-aged man sitting in a wicker chair. A young woman of Hispanic origin was pacing the left end of the terrace.

"That's Wilson. The lady is his housekeeper," Swanwick told Jim.

"Thank you." Jim nodded and turned to leave.

"No problem," the young officer said, with a faint smile. Jim wasn't sure how to take that smile. I'm definitely getting paranoid in my old age. Jim shelved the thought for later as he walked over to the terrace.

"Mr. Wilson? I'm Detective James Ellison from Major Crime," Jim introduced himself.

"Yeah, I'm Garrett Wilson. Do you have any idea how long the investigation will take?" Wilson asked as he rose to shake hands with the detective.

Jim shook his head. "No way of knowing, really. It depends on a number of things."

Wilson nodded and sat back down in the chair. He was fingering the armrest nervously.

Jim turned his attention to the woman.

"Mora Pilar," she stated simply, as she sat down on the wicker couch by the wall.

"What can you tell me about the deceased?" Jim asked, turning back to Wilson.

"Not much, really. Patrick Zane was a part-time worker. He came by a few times a week to tend the greenhouse. Far as I know, the rest of the time he works in a large plant store not too far from here. I don't really know that much about him. He wasn't much of a talker, and to be honest, I was never that curious about him. He knew plants in general and orchids in particular; that was all that mattered," Wilson commented with a shrug.

Jim nodded and scribbled the information down in his notebook.

"I understand you found the body, Ms. Pilar?"

"Yes, he came in a bit earlier than usual today. He stopped by the kitchen to say hello and then went to the greenhouse. It was probably about half an hour later that I decided to see if he wanted some coffee and... found him." She took a deep breath and straightened her back.

"Did you see Mr. Zane go into the greenhouse?" Jim asked.

"Well, he went through the back door, and I assume he went straight to the greenhouse. But I really couldn't swear to it."

***

As he was finishing up the interview, Jim saw Joel exit the greenhouse.

"Thank you. I'll come by if I need to know anything more. If you remember anything that might be of use, please call me." He handed them his card. By now he could probably have given that little speech in his sleep, but sometimes it actually worked and people did call.

Jim walked to the back door of the house after receiving two more or less affirmative answers. He hoped they meant it.

"Anything?" he asked Joel as he opened the door.

"He was hit with a large flowerpot, if you can believe that," Joel commented as they entered the house. "The blow came from behind," he clarified, gesturing to the back of his own skull.

Jim shook his head. Amazing what you come across in this profession - a gardener killed with a flowerpot.

"So, where to next?" Joel asked.

"Off to question his other employer. I got the directions from Wilson."

***

"By the way, I'm sorry about the sneezing incident", Jim apologized as they were driving to Plants R' Us. A ridiculous name for a plant store, if you asked Jim, but of course, the founder hadn't asked. Jim doubted he'd asked anyone's opinion.

"No need to apologize. You can't help it," Joel said in a friendly tone.

"Yeah," Jim said dryly. He still felt embarrassed. He could usually handle flowers with few problems, especially if Blair was with him, but so many flowers in such a small space (and all of them in full bloom) had been too much for his nose. I should be have been able to handle it on my own. If his guide found out about this, he would be in for a weekend of tolerance testing.

Jim sighed. Blair would hear about it during the next poker night at the latest. The guys would be unable to let this one go. It was perfect teasing material.

***

Plants R' Us was a large store, situated near the wealthier neighbourhoods. The two-story building had been built of warm-coloured tiles and wood. There was a big greenhouse at the back by the large double doors. A truck, with the store's name in huge letters on the side, was parked by the entrance. Some garden sculptures were on display in the open area on the side as well as larger plants meant for bigger gardens.

"Looks like they're doing well enough," Joel commented. The parking lot was clean, and the building looked well tended.

"Yep.

"Let's go see if anybody knows anything about Zane."

The pair walked through the front door into a large circular space filled with green plants. But no flowers in sight, thank God. Still, Jim could feel his nose starting to itch.

"You okay?" Joel asked quietly.

"Yeah, as long as we avoid the flower department," Jim commented. Still, he made sure his handkerchief was within easy reach.

Joel nodded slowly and stopped a friendly-looking young woman carrying a large cactus and wearing uniform-like green coveralls.

"Excuse me, but we'd like to talk to the owner, Ms. Casey?"

"The offices are on the second floor. There's a staircase up by the cacti," she said, nodding to her left.

"Thank you."

***

The upstairs was surprisingly devoid of plants of any kind. Somehow Jim had expected the offices of a plant store to be a veritable jungle. Just as well, my nose sure needs a breather.

There were a few men lounging around who didn't look to be contributing much to the everyday running of the store. They didn't look like any gardeners Jim had ever seen, either.

An older, matronly woman wearing clothes designed for someone two decades younger directed the two detectives to an office at the far end of the second floor.

"Yes? What is it?" a handsome woman in her late 30s asked sharply, her whole manner impatient, as the two entered her airy, light-filled office.

"I'm Detective Jim Ellison, and this is my partner Detective Joel Taggart," Jim said evenly as he showed his badge.

Casey's mien changed little, but she looked as if she might be more tolerant of their presence for now. As long as they did not loiter around wasting her time, that is.

"We'd like to know about an employee of yours, Patrick Zane."

"I don't know much about himâ€"or any of my other employees. As long as they show up on time and do their work properly, I don't much care about their private lives," she answered.

"What can you tell us about him?" Jim asked pointedly.

"He's worked here for several years, and there have been no complaints about him. Listen, I can't keep tabs on all of my workers.

"Gary!" she shouted suddenly. A middle-aged man with a worn denim shirt peeked in.

"Tell Linda to bring the file on Zane," she ordered him. She turned back to Jim and Joel. "She's the chief of personnel. Why are you asking after him anyway?"

"He was found dead this morning, Ms. Casey," Joel answered, sounding honestly sympathetic. It was wasted on her, though.

The chief of personnel was a thin woman in her late 20s, dressed in the latest Goth style. She was able to give them the name of Zane's domestic partner, as well as his home address.

Jim thanked her, and the two detectives moved on to speak to others around the store. It seemed that everyone knew about Zane, knew he had been working there, but that was it. No one had been that interested in him or had talked with him much beyond the usual workplace chitchat.

"Ms. Casey certainly didn't seem heartbroken," Joel said dryly as they were walking toward the front door.

"She barely reacted to the news," Jim agreed. He was holding a handkerchief to his nose as they walked past several flowering plants. Joel could hear a few muted sneezes.

"Think she already knew about it?" Joel asked. He looked worriedly at the sentinelâ€"Jim's sinuses were getting a workout today.

"Either that, or she honestly doesn't care much about her employees."

"I've met employers who are like that," Joel commented dryly.

***

A few minutes after leaving the store's parking lot, Jim stopped the car on the street at the back of the large building. "Joel? What do you think of the store?"

"Well, I've never seen so many workers in a simple plant store before; but then again, I've only been in such shops with Ellen. She's the plant enthusiast in our household," he answered with a fond grin.

"You're right. There's too many workers, and the storage space is large... a bit too large."

Joel nodded. "You're right, and I didn't like the look of those guys lounging around in the office. I'll pull the files on the store after we've questioned Zane's boyfriend."

"Call Rafe and have him get them for you. We're supposed to solve this today, after all," Jim said, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

Joel reached for his cell phone as Jim started the car.

***

Jane Drummond was practically vibrating with excitement as she changed her clothes in the locker-room. It wasn't every day a couple of hunky detectives questioned you about your colleague. Well, at least it wasn't supposed to be, not unless you were working for Enron or something.

She walked briskly out of the locker-room, eager to get to her friends and tell them all about it.

"Hey, Greg! Have you heard about the latest?" she shouted as she saw him coming in to work. He was kind of cute looking, for someone who listened to Shania Twain.

Greg stopped on his way to the men's locker room.

"Heard what? I just got here, remember," he commented.

"It's about Pat, Pat Zane. A couple of detectives were just here, asking about him."

"Why?"

"He was murdered. Rumour has it they found him in some TV producer's garden, would you believe it?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I would."

***

It wasn't that long a drive to 87 Vine Street. The apartment building was situated in a good neighbourhood and looked well maintained. They walked to apartment #64 in companionable silence.

"This it?" Joel asked to make sure.

"Yep," Jim said before ringing the doorbell.

A young man in a too-large t-shirt opened the door.

"Yes?" he asked, suspicious of two large men at his door.

"Kenneth Whelding? Detective James Ellison, and this is Detective Joel Taggart. Mind if we come in?" Jim asked softly.

"Yeah, but I suppose it would just be prolonging the inevitable," Whelding said as he opened the door to allow the two detectives in. "I think I'll pour myself a drink. I have a feeling I'll need it.

"You two sit down," he said, gesturing toward the couch in the kitchen-living room area.

The victim's home was full of plants: cacti, palms and small trees. No flowers, thankfully. Jim had had enough of any flowering plants for some time.

Whelding pulled a bottle of scotch from a kitchen cupboard and poured a generous amount into a glass. He sat in a kitchen chair.

"Okay, what happened?" he asked bluntly.

***

"Jesus, he was right," Whelding said, sounding horrified.

"What do you mean, Mr. Whelding?" Joel asked in a friendly voice.

"Pat said that he'd gotten involved in something... something illegal. He hadn't thought it was, you know, wrong exactly. Actually, he said something about nobody getting hurt, but lately..." The young man tried to get himself together. He took a deep breath and continued. "Lately he hadn't been so certain. Now with Pat having second thoughts, that can be both a good thing and a bad thing. When he finally gets to thinking, he usually makes the right decision; but then he just goes and acts on it, not really considering about the consequences and such. Just goes ahead at full speed."

Jim nodded. "Do you have any idea what this 'illegal activity' was or where he'd gotten involved in it?"

"Not really. I tried to ask, but he wouldn't say anything. Just said that he'd take care of it. As usual," Whelding sighed.

***

"So, the store or Wilson?" Joel asked as they were yet again sitting in Jim's truck.

"I'd bet the store, but we need to check into Wilson too," Jim said, as he turned a corner.

"I agree. What about Whelding? He certainly seemed genuinely upset."

"He was, but we need to look into him too, though I'd concentrate on Ms. Casey, the Ice Maiden. "Now, how about lunch?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Joel said, with a clearly audible sigh of relief.

"I know a good restaurant nearby." Jim said with a small smile.

"Sounds good; drive on."

"At last, someone who trusts my taste in restaurants." Jim sighed theatrically.

"I trust Sandburg's training," Joel countered. He laughed at Jim's glare. The sentinel huffed, affronted. He hadn't been that bad, had he?

***

"What's with the tomato soup? I thought you didn't much like 'rabbit food'," Jim asked as they were sitting in the restaurant waiting for their orders. It was smoke-free, decorated in warm colours and relatively quiet, which made it a haven to sentinel senses. Sandburg had been the one to find it, but there was no way Jim was going to tell Joel that.

"With garlic bread, I might add," Joel pointed out.

"I concede the point. Did Ellen put you on a diet again?" Jim asked, taking a sip of ice water.

"What do you think? She's found this 'live healthily' book. It has all these articles about proper exercise, which vitamins you get from what vegetables and fruits, those sorts of things. She's decided that we're going to restructure our life habits," Joel said, sounding both annoyed and happy.

Jim grinned. He knew the mixed feeling. It was annoying when someone was trying to tell you how to live your life, but it was also reassuring to know that someone cared that much about you. In his case, the reassuring part far outweighed the annoying portion. It seemed to be the same in Joel's case, too. Would be about time he found the right one for him. Joel had been living alone for years after his wife died. The others had been worried for the large detective, until Ellen. The calm karate teacher was a perfect match for Joel. Actually, Rhonda was taking bets on when Joel was going to propose. Jim had put five dollars on Christmas; Blair had put his money on next Valentine's. The guppy was something of a closet romantic.

***

Blair was sitting on a bench in a small park near the Academy. He had found the park one day as he had been looking for a diner offering vegetarian lunches. It was relatively quiet, as it was situated by a side street. He liked the patch of green amongst the metal and concrete buildings, and right now he needed the quiet it offered.

Okay, the first part went well. Now if the second part goes as well, I'm pretty sure I'm in.

He opened the take-out bag of Chinese. He was still feeling a bit guilty about not telling Jim what he was up to, but he really wanted to do this on his own. I just hope he doesn't send me to sleep on the couch once I tell him what I've been up to.

***

"Hey! Watch where you're waving that aloe!"

"Oh, sorry."

Greg sighed. He really couldn't concentrate on anything today.

"What is it with you anyway?" David asked. They were transferring a shipment of plants to the storage room. Some would go directly to customers, so those had to be stored at the front.

Greg put the large aloe on top of a crate.

"Did you hear about Pat?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, bad luck."

"Think that's all it was?"

David leaned closer to Greg. "I know it was. And so do you if you've got any sense in your head."

And if I don't?

***

"Hey, Jim. Come here, will you?" Joel shouted. They were back at the station, looking through all the paperwork and files. Rafe had been busy at the archives.

"What is it?" Jim asked as he walked over to Joel's desk.

"Look at this. The IRS is investigating Plants R' Us," the older detective said, gesturing at the computer screen.

Jim stood by Joel and skimmed the report on the screen.

"It doesn't say much about the reason for it." Jim frowned.

"I emailed the lead investigatorâ€"I'm hoping she'll reply today. Unexplained income, I bet," Joel commented.

"It would fit with everything so far," Jim agreed.

The phone on Jim's desk rang, and he rushed to answer it. Joel looked after him half-attentively, but perked up when he noticed Jim gesturing to him. Obviously the call had something to do with the case. Jim scribbled notes on a post-it, then hung up the phone. He walked back to Joel.

"Someone willing to testify, or just give us a lead?"

"The latter, though I'm hoping we can persuade him to do the former," Jim said, sounding optimistic.

"When do we meet him?"

"Tonight at 7:00 p.m. He wants to meet us near the fountain at Wesley Park. We should probably get there about half an hour early, just to check out the surroundings and to make sure someone else doesn't get to our informant first," Jim suggested with a frown.

"Yep, wouldn't do to have two murders in one case.

"Okay, we have too many employees, large storage space, and unexplained income on top of it all. I'd say it equals smuggling," Joel stated, leaning back in his chair.

"I agree, but smuggling what? Rafe couldn't find any previous cases on Casey. I'm sure Vice would know her if she was involved in drugs," Jim said, thinking aloud.

Joel nodded. "How about weapons?"

"Could be, but it doesn't feel right," Jim said slowly. "Besides, Zane told Whelding that nobody had gotten hurt."

"If it was illegal and someone's ready to kill for it, then how is that possible?" Joel wondered.

Jim shook his head. The comment had been nagging at him, and he had no idea what it could have meant.

***

Greg took a deep breath as he closed the cell phone. It was done, the die was cast, and so forth. Just hope I don't end up getting killed, like Pat. Pat's death had decided it for him; he couldn't just close his eyes anymore.

He stumped the cigarette he had allegedly come out to smoke. He noticed David chatting with someone as he walked back to the storage room.

***

"Think he called that cop?" Chris asked.

"I'm sure of it," David stated. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he was just enjoying the sunlight. "I'll follow him when he gets off work."

"Okay, I'll tell Casey. She won't be happy about this, though," the older dark-skinned man growled. He hated it when things didn't go smoothly.

"Just one of the privileges of a senior position," David said with a grin.

***

The IRS investigator replied in a couple of hours, and Joel's hunch had been rightâ€"Ms. Casey had indeed been acquiring some extra income, the origins of which were somewhat hazy. Yes, she might have gotten the money through smuggling, and no, we wouldn't really mind it if you arrested her. "Nice to know they won't get territorial," Jim said dryly.

"It would just strengthen their case if she was arrested for criminal activities," Joel commented.

Jim checked the background of some of Casey's employees. There were a number with criminal records, nothing too serious though. Wilson came up clean, or as clean as a TV-producer could be. Whelding had nothing against him, not even unpaid credit card bills.

***

The two detectives walked to the captain's office. Jim knocked on the door and opened it after a barked, "Enter."

"Captain."

"Yes?" Simon queried, closing the file on his desk and leaning back in his chair.

"We think we've solved the greenhouse case, sir," Joel said. "We're meeting a potential witness tonight."

"Knew I could trust you two. So, what's going on?"

***

"Looks like all that's left is to figure out just what the hell Casey's up to and to find some hard evidence against her," Joel commented, as they got ready to head home for a meal and a change of clothes.

"Yeah, too bad the pot had no fingerprints on it."

Joel chuckled.

"Not even the villains in a TV-series make that kind of mistake anymore."

"True, but one can always hope," Jim said wistfully.

***

But what on earth is she smuggling? Jim thought about it as he drove home to change into warmer clothes and to get something to eat. He would rejoin Joel in a couple of hours for the meet with their witness.

Drugs? Weapons? Stolen goods? Or maybe it's just plantsâ€"endangered species? The last one would be the easiest to accomplish. The dogs would not notice them, and it would require a trained human eye to recognize protected plants. Casey had the room and skilled workers to take care of the plants, as well as the clientele nearby. It was also quite profitable; trafficking in animals and plants was worth several billion dollars per year. Who wouldn't want a piece of that? Unfortunately, it was also a crime that some people thought wasn't that serious. It would fit with what Zane had told his boyfriend. It would also explain why the other departments had nothing on her.

Jim shook his head. It fit. Now they would just have to see if the conjecture was true and then find the evidence to stop Casey. He doubted they would get her clients. Even if they got a list of her buyers, it was doubtful the judge would give them a warrant to go and collect the plants. Unless they could prove that some of those were protected species. Would she have kept that good a record? She might keep records just to make sure that she would not go down alone if caught... or maybe she collected some blackmail material on the side.

Jim sighed. No way to know for sure until they got a search warrant, which depended on their potential witness and his testimony.

***

Jim checked the loft with his senses as he parked the truck in its usual spot. Blair wasn't home. Jim sighed. He had been hoping his guide would be there to talk with... and to just be withâ€"if he was being honest with himself.

Jim thought about the odd conversation he'd had with Blair that morning as he walked up the stairs to the loft, bypassing the elevator. What could his guide be up to? And why couldn't he just tell Jim what he was planning? Maybe it was something that would require leaving Cascade? Or something Blair was worried Jim might not approve of? The last one seemed unlikely; and unfortunately, the leaving option seemed the likeliest choice. He really didn't like the idea of Blair leaving him, for whatever reason. God, haven't I hashed through this already?

He opened the door of the loft and glanced at the answering machine. There was a message on it.

"Hi, Jim. This is taking rather longer than I expected, and I'll be lateâ€"I mean really late. Don't wait up for me, but if and when you do, remember to eat something. Oh, and lying on the couch horizontally is better for your back, you know. See you. Love you."

Jim smiled as he put away his coat and gun. He proceeded straight to the bathroom for a shower.

So, what should he do? Joel was right, he just couldn't picture Blair as your average cop; it wasn't really him. But he didn't want to be separated from his lover either. What if it was just for a few weeks? The mere thought of even that long without Blair sent a shiver through his heart, but he wouldn't stop Blair. If his guide truly believed it was something he wanted to do, the sentinel would let him go, no matter how much it hurt.

***

David sat in his old car and kept a watch on the apartment building in which Greg lived. After buying some groceries and a few magazines, the guy had not set foot outside his small flat. Probably killing time until meeting with the cops.

David felt kind of bad about what he was doing, because he liked Greg, but he disliked being sent back to prison even more. So he stayed and kept watch.

***

Armed with fresh clothing, some sandwiches and a clearer mind, Jim met with the others in the bullpen.

"Okay, now that you're here, let's go through the meet," Simon said. Everyone else was already present.

Jim walked over to Joel.

"Hey, how about we take my car? It's more inconspicuous," Joel added, forestalling any protests.

Jim opened his mouth and then closed it. He had to admit that Joel had a point. His truck didn't exactly blend in with the crowd.

"Okay," Jim gave in ungracefully.

He could see Rafe handing over a bill to H a couple of chairs away. Jim shook his head.

***

David straightened and put away the Newsweek he had been reading. Greg had just stepped out.

He swore as his cell phone beeped.

"Yep?"

"What's happening there?" Chris asked. Straight to the point as usual.

"He's just leaving," David said as he followed Greg with his eyes. "In a car," he added as Greg stopped by a car and got out the keys.

"What kind of car is he driving?"

"It's a green Toyota. I'll let you know where he's headed, and you can follow," David said. He was not going to be doing anything more serious on his own.

"Phone back to this number. Oh, and, don't do anything unless you hear from us first. Casey wants to take care of this on her own," Chris warned him.

"I will, and I won't," David stated. She still doesn't trust me. Can't blame her for it - I wouldn't trust me.

He switched off the phone and started the engine. Greg was just getting into his car. By tomorrow, you'll be dead, or I'll be heading for my folks down in California. Surveillance was as far as he was willing to go, and so far Casey hadn't pushed him. David did not doubt she would, and he wasn't willing to cross that boundary, not for her. So it was good bye, Cascade, once he had seen this through. He wanted to know if anyone would be coming after him.

***

Joel hid a smile as he glanced at Jim, who was trying his best not to fidget. It was a well-known fact that Ellison didn't like being a passenger. But Joel didn't want Jim driving tonight. If it came to a chase, it was best not to let Jim do the driving. Oh, he did get the bad guyâ€"well, most of the timeâ€"but the damage to the vehicle, as well as any nearby public property, was sometimes quite remarkable. The detective had acquired a certain reputation among the insurance companies in and around Cascade. It was best not to mention that you were working with James Ellison when applying for health or car insurance.

"Think he'll testify in court?" Joel asked, mostly to give Jim something to think about.

"Could be. I got the impression from the call that Zane's death spooked him," Jim said confidently.

"Thought it was 'nothing serious' until a co-worker gets killed."

"About that, I think I know why Zane thought it was 'nothing serious'. Could be they're trafficking in rare plants," Jim said as Joel stopped at a red light.

"The plant store would certainly be the perfect cover for it. Did you mention it to Banks?"

"Yes, after the meeting. He agrees it's a possibility and will call the head of Rainier's botanical department, just in case."

***

The two detectives got to the meeting place half an hour early and settled in to wait. It was getting cold, and Joel opened a thermos of strong coffee. They chatted softly, mostly about the station gossip. There were only a few people about, mostly people who had worked late. Wesley Park was near the business district, with no apartment buildings within walking distance.

"Someone's parking by the street on the other side of the park," Jim said after only fifteen minutes of sitting in a dark car. He could hear a car pulling to a halt.

Joel put the thermos away. They got out of their car and walked quietly toward the car that could just be seen behind a few trees.

"Wait, there's another car coming. Call it in," Jim whispered suddenly.

The two detectives settled behind a couple of trees and a thick bush. Joel put a hand on Jim's back to provide an anchor to reality and whispered for backup through the radio.

"It's Casey, with a couple of her workers," Jim whispered after a few seconds.

"The ones with arrest records?"

"Yep."

"Figures," Joel said sarcastically.

Jim grinned.

Casey and her men stepped out of the car and walked over to their witness. He stood his ground, obviously hoping to bluff it out. It wasn't working. "Let's go," Jim said, because the argument was getting quite heated.

The two jogged toward the group. One of the guys pulled a gun out of his jacket and aimed it at the potential witness.

"Freeze! Police!" Jim shouted.

Everyone glanced at them. The bad guys (and gal) backed away a step, but the one with the gun decided to do what they had come to do and shot desperately at the witness. Jim fired at him, and the gunman dropped. Casey and the second man ran away.

"Look after them, I'm going after the others," Jim shouted at Joel, who wasn't breathing that hard after their short run. He's getting to be in better shape. Jim ran off after the two escapees.

They had gotten into their car. Jim shot the front tire as they took off, and the vehicle veered off the road and straight into the display window of a glass and crystal shop. Jim had wisely dialled down his hearing before the shooting started. The noise was incredible.

Jim raised his hearing to normal levels as the noise quieted down. He could hear Casey swearing. Wonder where she learned to swear like a convict?

"Okay, come out with your hands up. It's over." By now they could all hear the sirens of their backup.

***

David looked at the police cars going toward the park. He finished his coffee and got up. He nodded to the young man behind the counter of the coffee shop as he walked out. He had an early train to catch. Wonder how my sister's kids are doing?

***

"Hey, Jim. How's it going?" Blair asked him as he let himself into the loft in the late hours of the night. The guide seemed to be in a good mood and did not appear in the least surprised to find his sentinel lounging on the couch with his bathrobe on.

Simon had told Jim that he could write out the report the next morning. The captain had been in a relatively mellow mood, since they had been able to solve the case so fast. Their witness would be released from the hospital in a few days and was quite determined to testify. The case would now go to the federal officers, and Simon was probably hoping that it would eventually lead them to the larger fish, although Jim was not so optimistic. Getting cynical, too, in my old age.

The rare and endangered plants found in the storage area of Plants R' Us had been given over to the Rainier University's botanical department. Professor Nichols had been outraged at the number of plants involved and had launched into a lecture of agaves, lobelias and hibiscuses. The professor and his staff would know how best to care for the plants, that much was certain. All in all, a good day's work for the Sentinel of the Great City.

Jim relaxed and listened to Blair's voice and practically purred. Joel was doing his best as a backup guide, but there was only one guide and mate for him.

"Same old, same old, Chief," he replied from the couch.

"Riiight," the guide said dryly. He put his coat away and went to the fridge to get a snack. He knew his sentinel; he would get the real story eventually. "Anyways, you remember those courses I told you about?"

"Yeah. When are you starting?" Jim asked with a cold shiver in his spine. He didn't want to be separated from his lover any longer than necessary, but this was obviously something Blair needed to do.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Blair walked back to the living room area with a glass of water and munching on a large carrot. "I'll be starting in a couple of months. Jim, I... They're... It's a profiler course."

"A what?!?" That was something Jim had not suspected, though he supposed he should have. It fit. With Blair's background and experience, not to mention his aptitude for the job, he would be really good at profiling.

"Jim?" Blair asked, his voice hesitant.

"I'm certain you'll make a damn good profiler," Jim said proudly.

"Thank you." Blair swallowed the last of the carrot and put the glass on the sofa table. "So... how about a kiss to congratulate me?" the guide suggested as he sat down on Jim's lap.

"Just a kiss?" Jim mock-pouted.

"For starters," Blair corrected. He definitely had some more detailed and lengthy plans for later.

Jim chuckled. His lover was full of surprises and had a surprisingly dirty imagination, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

***

"I know I've asked this before, but are you sure? As a profiler, you'll get the disappearances, murders and serial killer cases," Jim asked as they were lying on the large bed, relaxing after a slow bout of lovemaking.

"It's also where I'll feel most useful," Blair commented. He was lying partly on Jim's back. Jim could feel his lover's hair tickling his skin.

"Have you told Simon?" Jim asked as he settled better on the bed.

"Not yet; thought I'd do it this Friday. The guys are coming for a poker night. I'll spring it on Simon before the others get here." The captain was always one of the first to arrive.

"He'll be proud of you," Jim said, grinning. Simon tended to think of Blair as a favourite nephew.

"We've both come a long way since we met," Blair whispered wistfully.

"Regrets?"

"None," Blair stated.

"Me, neither."

***

Officer Stan Swanwick checked over the report on Ellison's latest case. Since he had been on the site, he was able to add more details into it than usual.

Looks good to me. He saved the report and readied the email with which to send it. His mysterious employer wanted a daily report on Ellison, by email. Nothing else. Swanwick suspected that the nothing else part would change one day, but the pay was good and he had not gotten into trouble yet. Best to worry about troubles when they come. He pressed send.

***

The End