Work Text:
Disclaimer: The Sentinel, Jim, Blair and Simon, and anyone else are owned by Pet Fly. I make no profit on this.
Warning: AU, er... Blair hair warning for those who are sensitive about that. o.O
Notes: This story was written for the Sentinel Secrets challenge: Someone receives a letter that impacts their life in some way. I'd like to thank T.W. for betaing. Also, a big thank you to the mods at Sentinel Secrets for their hard work: Tobyfan, Tommyboy, and Reetchick. It was a blast!
Blair had no premonition that his life was gone when he grabbed the Fedex package that Jim, talking loudly to someone on the phone, waved in his direction. He looked curiously at the illegible sender address, but his name c/o Major Crime was clearly marked. Ripping it open, it at first appeared empty but there was something in the bottom. He shook it until the object fell out on Jim's desk and picked it up. It was a small wooden tile from a Scrabble game. He turned it over to find the letter 'R' colored in with a red magic marker.
Fear, anger, and a devastating sense of loss slammed into him. So much for thinking they'd lost the trail long ago and that he was safe. Years of complacency made him rusty, but once the immediate shock wore off, Blair found himself back in the familiar routine Naomi had drilled into him. 'R' meant they'd found his location and red meant they were already on their way. Red was emergency. Red was immediate evacuation. He couldn't even risk going back to the loft. What he had on him now and what he'd stashed -- if he could get to it -- were his entire working resource at the moment.
At least there was only one tile. That meant they hadn't found Naomi, although they'd certainly interrogate Blair before they killed him. He couldn't let that happen.
He took a quick look around the bull pen, using sheer willpower to hold back the stinging in his eyes, taking mental snapshots of his friends. Joel and Megan were out on a call, but maybe it was easier that way. Rafe and Henry were in with Simon going over a case. Rhonda was squinting at reams of computer printouts and typing away. That left...
Jim was looking at him with concern while he continued talking on the phone. Jim. That was... Oh God, that was the hardest. In the back of his mind, he remembered Naomi's training. 'We're human, Blair, and it's our nature to put down roots. We grow to love people. But for their safety, we can't stay. They're innocent bystanders who could get hurt or worse. Detach with love, sweetie. It's the last gift you can give them.'
Right. Blair smiled reassuringly at Jim and leaned forward to scribble on a notepad.
Going to run errand. Don't forget Anderson interview 3 pm.
He put down the pen, smiled one last time at his... best friend, picked up his backpack and walked out of Blair Sandburg's life. It was only as he hit the door that he couldn't help turning for one last look. Jim was staring at him with narrowed eyes that suddenly widened with realization. Oh shit! Blair forced himself to wave casually and walk three slow steps out of sight, then he broke and ran.
* * * * *
Jim dropped the phone and lurched to his feet. The vaguely disturbing pieces of the past couple minutes coalesced into a frightening whole as he met Blair's eyes. He'd seen that look before. One of his friends in Special Forces, Captain Andy Cornell, had looked around just like that before he went out on a classified, undercover mission that he never came back from.
Well, if Blair thought Jim was just going to let him go, he had another think coming. Tracking the sounds of Blair's frantic crashing down the stairwell, Jim followed. Bursting out into the garage, he wasted a precious minute looking for Blair's car. It was still there; Blair wasn't in it. Jim cursed. The car was traceable so Blair had abandoned it. That meant he could forget beating Blair to the loft. Blair wasn't going back there.
He ran to his truck and took off for the garage exit, pausing at the sidewalk to look both ways. No sighting of Blair so he listened for the sound of running. No luck there. Running in broad daylight would attract attention. So Blair was moving at a normal but quick pace. The question was which direction?
To the right lay the downtown business district with its shopping and restaurants. To the left, the manufacturing/warehouse district. And the bus station. Jim turned left, driving slower than usual and stopping at each intersection and alleyway to look for traces of Blair's passing. He was starting to worry that he'd picked the wrong direction, when he saw Blair's wallet in the hands of a young hood laughing with his friends. Listening in, he heard the teen exclaim, "This guy just hands me the wallet and tells me his pin number. Can you believe it?"
Jim screeched to a halt right in front of them and was out the door, gun out and aimed, before they could scatter. "Which direction?" he snarled.
They gaped at him, hands going up.
"I don't give a shit about the wallet. Which direction did the guy go?"
"Um, that way?" The hood pointed, then realized the wallet was still in his hand and hurriedly hid it behind his back.
Jim ignored him, jumped back in the truck and took off. He had to hurry. If Blair was getting rid of his identity and his access to money, that meant he had a cache somewhere and that meant preparation. This was real trouble, whatever it was. And he wasn't letting Blair handle it alone.
Focusing his eyesight, he caught a glimpse of Blair's familiar figure turning right a half-dozen blocks ahead. Jim sped up, ignoring the irritated honks of the other drivers, and made the turn. Blair was nowhere in sight. Jim smiled ruefully. Good thing he was better at following criminals than one sneaky guide. The fear of losing Blair's trail sobered him and he pulled over to the curb and contemplated the street in front of him.
Most of the businesses could be dismissed; Jim didn't see Blair needing a new air conditioner or restaurant supplies. He checked out the auto body repair shop first, in case Blair was picking up a new car. Simply pulling in and turning off the ignition to listen told him Blair wasn't there.
He tried the warehouse storage facility next, getting out and walking past the long line of metal doors, listening for Blair. It took him less than two minutes before he heard Blair moving around behind a locked door, muttering, "Damn, damn, damn! Suck it up, Billy boy, and just do it already." Then the buzzing sound of an appliance drowned out his complaints.
Jim frowned and banged on the door. The buzzing stopped and there was silence in the storage area. "Come on, Sandburg. Let me in."
A heartfelt "Fuck!" and then the door swung open.
"Who the hell is Bi--" Jim gaped and fell silent as he took in his partner. Blair held an electric hair clipper and had already shaved the top of his head, making him look like a samurai movie extra.
"Quick! Get in before somebody sees you!" Blair grabbed Jim by the arm and pulled him in. "I suppose your truck is parked in front of the building?" Jim nodded, still staring. "Just great. Better hurry then." And he went back to the small mirror propped on some stacked boxes and continued shaving off his hair.
Jim stared at the long curls as they drifted down to cling to Blair's shoulders and then to the floor. The finality of it -- Blair was leaving and he wasn't coming back -- hit him hard. "Why?"
Blair looked at him, his own anguish showing for a moment before his face hardened and he turned back the mirror. "It's better if you don't know. Safer."
Shit. He knew the words to that tune, since he'd sung it himself. "Just tell me."
Blair hesitated and then nodded. "A long time ago, Naomi and I... saw something we weren't supposed to see. Something that endangered a very powerful man." He looked sad. "My stepfather. Naomi realized what it meant right away and two minutes later we were out of the house and running for our lives. The only reason we weren't already dead is that he hadn't remembered we were home. He sent men after us, but my... somebody in his household has warned us once or twice when they've gotten close. They haven't found Naomi this time, but, if they catch me, they'll make me talk."
"Blair Sandburg's not your real name, is it?" Jim asked, his mouth dry.
Blair tilted his head to look at Jim. Their eyes met and Jim's heart started beating faster. "It was for twelve years. I grew into it. Believe me, Jim, I didn't lie about our friendship."
"I know," Jim whispered. He did know that. Blair's naked expression was all the proof he needed and Jim couldn't stop staring. "Stay. We'll go to Simon, we'll get you protection."
But Blair was shaking his head, grim-faced. "They'll kill all of us, Jim. And, believe me, they can do it. Police protection is not an obstacle. You might have a chance, but I won't risk Simon or any of the others." Blair turned back and finished shaving his head. He ran a hand over his skull to shake off the clinging wisps.
Jim reached out a hand -- why am I trembling? he wondered --and touched Blair's bare head. The minute fuzz tickled his fingertips and he could feel the heat from Blair's brain. His scalp was pale and the remaining stubble formed a dark skullcap. He didn't look like Blair anymore.
Blair's eyes met his in the mirror and, for a brief moment, Blair leaned into his touch. Wistfulness, regret, loss lay in his eyes and Jim inhaled sharply and made his decision. "I'm coming with you."
Blair's heartbeat sped up but he shook his head. "You can't. If you come with me, they'll assume you know and if you ever come back they'll kill you. It would mean you could never see or contact Simon, or your family again. It's too much, Jim."
"My choice, Blair. You know I'll just follow you."
Blair turned around to stare at Jim. "You would too, you stupid bastard. You'll get us both killed that way." Then he leaned forward, arms going around Jim, and mumbled into Jim's shoulder, "It's so selfish, but I'm glad. I didn't want to leave you, Jim."
Jim barely had time to enjoy it, before Blair pulled away and began briskly going through his boxes. "Here, I think this will fit you. Good thing you're wearing jeans today." He pulled out a used leather jacket and threw it at Jim.
Blair opened another box. Quickly, he disrobed and began putting on new clothes. Jim realized he was staring, and stared at the floor instead.
"How do I look?" asked Blair, posing with arms outstretched.
Jim didn't recognize the man in front of him. Blair was wearing jeans and a plain white tee-shirt that actually fit him, were maybe even a little tight, plus another leather jacket. The unfamiliar style together with the shaved head -- Jim would have walked past him on the street. "Like a stranger."
"Just the look I was going for," Blair said cheerfully. He rubbed his chin. "A couple more days and I'll have a goatee." He looked over at Jim and smiled mischievously. "We'll need to change your look too. Ever thought of letting your hair grow out? Finding out if blondes have more fun?"
Jim rolled his eyes. "Keep your fantasies to yourself, Sandburg." Then he felt his face grow hot as Blair snickered gleefully.
"You wish, Ellison."
With great dignity, Jim ignored him and put on the jacket. "What now?"
"Check this out." Blair lifted a tarp up and off to reveal an old, well-maintained Harley. "Our ride."
Jim eyed it dubiously. It was a beautiful bike, but... "Who's driving?"
Blair grinned. "I am."
"Uh-uh, Evel Knievel, I'll do it."
"My bike."
"My life." Jim could have kicked himself. Blair's eyes fell and he nodded. "Blair, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Jim," Blair said, smiling slightly. "We'll be doing a lot of traveling and need to spell each other. You want your turn first, no problem."
That settled, they pulled the bike out and got it loaded. Blair hadn't planned for a passenger so there was less room now; some discarding and rearranging was necessary. Fifteen minutes later, they were ready.
Jim got on and Blair climbed on behind him. The bike handled beautifully as Jim drove out of Cascade, keeping a watchful sentinel eye out for any pursuit. They stopped once at the top of a hill to look back at the skyline.
After a few silent minutes, Blair said, "Cascade was really good to me. I'm going to miss it."
Jim nodded. He didn't have anything to say. He felt sad and knew there'd be times when he'd feel the loss of friends and family here, but he'd made his choice. His life was with Blair.
"Let's go," he said, and pulled out onto the highway, leaving Cascade behind forever.