Title: Disgrace

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair (eventually, preslash on this one)

Rating: R

Spoilers: everything

Archive: sure! just let me know!

Author: nancy

Feedback: love some, thanks!

summary: Life is disrupted when the past repeats itself and Jim is drawn back into a military operation.

warnings: just bad language and angst so far.

disclaimers: not mine, never will be, not making any money from this, more's the pity. :o)

Disgrace

By Nancy

Staring at his faded and warped reflection in the bathroom mirror, Jim wondered, What the hell are you doing, Ellison?

It certainly wasn't the first time that the thought had kicked him in the gut.

It was easy enough to push things aside during the day, there were a ton of things to keep his mind occupied. And even with Blair around all the time, he could keep his responses to the other man hidden. If he came across as needy with all the touching, Blair never complained, never even mentioned it. As a matter of fact, the younger man seemed to enjoy the contact, even as asexual as it was.

The result of not enough of it while he was growing up, despite Naomi's new-age crap, Jim thought sourly. Face it, Ellison, you're fucked. He loves you, but not the way you need him to...well, not the way you want him to, anyhow.

Of course, none of that mattered because Jim would do whatever it took to keep Blair at his side. And if that meant taking out women and pretending that it was Blair who he made love to in the dark, then that's what he would keep doing.

"Jim? You all right in there, man?"

Blair's voice startled him and the vague, mirrored outline of himself moved in surprise. The steam from the shower had completely clouded it over, and maybe there was a lesson in there somewhere. With his hand, Jim wiped the mirror and called back, "Yeah Sandburg. I'm fine."

A flat out lie, he thought.

But then, Blair wouldn't be able to tell that.

* * * *

Blair frowned at the response through the bathroom door, sensing that something was wrong. Jim had been more reticent than usual the last few weeks, but always insisted that nothing was wrong. Whatever the problem was, he wasn't talking and that frustrated the hell out of Blair. He hesitated a few more seconds, then moved slowly away from the door, into the living room where he set up camp on the couch.

Jim came out a few seconds after that, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. It looked like there was another date on the agenda, which unsettled him enough to ask, "Heading out?"

"Yeah," Jim answered shortly, making for his boots on the loft stairs.

Keeping his voice easy and encouraging, Blair questioned, "Anyone I know?"

Jim sat on the stairs and shoved his feet into the boots, lacing then up swiftly. "Marie from Records."

With a frown, Blair commented, "She's got a kid."

"Yeah."

"Don't you think that's a little risky?"

"No, Sandburg, I don't. If you want to know the God's honest truth, she's just looking to get laid. I think I can manage that, okay?" Jim bit out.

Taken aback, Blair just stared at Jim. Then, without thinking, he got to his feet and crossed to Jim, blocking the bigger man's way by planting himself in front of his friend. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Jim looked away as he answered, "Nothing."

"Bullshit. Let me in, Jim, please?" Blair pleaded softly, gripping his arm.

Swallowing heavily, Jim looked back at him, his jaw clenching and unclenching as though he was dying to say something important. Then, out of the blue, Jim abruptly pulled back and just walked around him.

Blair sighed and didn't bother to watch as his friend left the loft, defeat running through him as he listened to the door open and close behind Jim. He didn't know what was going on, but it sure as hell felt like he was losing his best friend. If he wasn't careful, Blair knew that he'd lose everything.

* * * *

Jim frowned as the sensation of being watched returned and looked around carefully, extending his sight as he did so. Nothing seemed out of place, though. He continued to frown and moved towards the loft, hearing upped a notch as he walked. Putting his key in the lock, Jim's free hand lowered to have ready access to his gun as footsteps echoed nearby.

"Captain."

A single word that sent a flood of emotions over him. It was a voice that he hadn't heard in over a decade, one that he'd never thought to hear again. Pulling his key out, Jim turned slowly and faced the visitor. As expected, Kyle Wintry stood before him.

It seemed as if life hadn't been especially kind to the other man, not recently anyhow. He was haggard and exhausted, a pinched look to his otherwise handsome face. The dark eyes seemed positively luminous above hollowed out cheekbones. The scar that etched along the right bone stood out in sharp relief.

The scar that Jim hadn't been able to save him from.

Voice neutral, Jim replied, "Corporal. What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk, Sir," Kyle answered.

"Here?"

Kyle shrugged, broad shoulders moving beneath the worn military jacket. "That's up to you, Sir."

With only a brief hesitation, remembering the last time that Blair had encountered someone from his military background, Jim said, "I have a roommate. Will he be in danger if we do this here?"

"No, Sir. But he probably shouldn't listen in," Kyle answered.

Jim eyed him a moment longer, then turned back to the door and unlocked it. He entered and headed straight for the elevator, knowing that Wintry would follow. A hundred thoughts were all running through his mind, most having to do with the reason behind Wintry's arrival. He hadn't seen the other man since before his final mission to Peru. That last black op they did together was a sour clench to his stomach, even as he tried not to think about it on the silent elevator ride up.

The second he opened the loft door, Blair's voice called out, "Jim! It's about damn time you got home, man, I was just about to send a posse after you. Oh, hey. I'm sorry, didn't know you had company."

A quick glimpse at Wintry showed a complete lack of surprise at Blair's effusive greeting, which explained the sensation of being watched the last couple of days. He'd obviously been scoping them out to get the lay of the land. "Blair Sandburg, this is Corporal Kyle Wintry."

Blair hesitated at the introduction, but came the rest of the way forward and held out his hand. "Good to meet you, Corporal."

"Actually, it's Captain now, but same here," Kyle answered, taking Blair's hand and looking the smaller man over closely.

"Ah, you two probably want to talk old times, so I'll just make myself scarce," Blair offered, hesitantly stepping back. He grabbed his coat but stopped at Jim's side and continued, "I've got my cell if you need me. I won't go far."

Smiling for the first time since Wintry's appearance, Jim said, "Thanks, Chief. I'll be fine."

Blair glanced sideways at Kyle and questioned, "You're sure?"

"Yeah. Why don't you go haunt the new girl at the bakery for about twenty? I'm sure whatever Wintry has to say won't take too long," Jim replied, warmed by the concern in his partner's eyes.

Blair nodded and left, obviously still troubled.

Kyle watched Blair leave, then observed, "Seems like a good man."

"The best," Jim agreed. He walked to the couch and motioned for the other man to sit.

Doing so, Kyle stated bluntly, "I'm in trouble, Captain."

Jim remained standing as he asked, "What kind?"

"The unofficial kind that could get me killed."

Jim's breath caught and he thought about Blair, who'd just left the loft completely unprotected. "You said that Sandburg wouldn't be in danger if we did this here!"

Hasty, Kyle assured him, "I wasn't followed, Sir, I swear. And I've been watching for a couple of days in case someone got here ahead of me. Either they haven't discovered our time together yet, or they don't think I'll come here."

"But you don't know."

"No, Sir. Which is why I need to be quick about this."

"Talk."

Running a hand over buzzed hair, Kyle settled forward on the couch and said, "My team is being held and tortured, Captain. I was able to escape, but when I returned to base, I was arrested on a trumped up murder charge. They're going to bury this, Sir, they're going to leave those men, my men, to be killed!"

Talk about shades of the past, Jim thought, a sick feeling running through him. "How did you get out?"

"Prisoner transfer. The guards were careless," Kyle explained. "I was a little surprised, but not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know?"

Jim nodded, walking from Kyle to the balcony doors. Blair's voice drifted up to him, warm and rich with flirty-teasing. Hearing it calmed him, relaxed the stiff set to his shoulders and back, just a little. Finally, he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Help me get them out, Sir. You're the best sniper I know and you can go invisible in broad daylight."

It doesn't seem to matter what I do with my life, Jim mused. No matter how far he went personally, or even professionally as a cop, the military was always there in the background, waiting like a jealous stalker. The only thing was, this time it wasn't just himself to think about. Sandburg would insist on coming with him, and that was impossible. It was far too dangerous to even think about.

He had a life here. He had family again, some of them even blood related, thanks to Blair. How could he consider chucking it all for men he didn't know? Men who knew the risks of what they were doing when they signed up?

How could he not?

"When do you need to know?"

"Now, Sir. If you aren't going to help, I have to track down Connelly. He's the only other one I would trust to help with this."

"How long since they were taken?"

There was a hesitation, which made Jim look back at Kyle. The pained look on the other man's face sent a jolt of sympathy through him as he repeated gently, "How long?"

"A month, Sir."

Fuck. "You know that they're probably dead by now."

"I don't think so, Sir," Kyle said slowly. "They were taken by local insurgents and would be kept alive for a bargaining tool."

"The army doesn't bargain."

"I know. But these people have the balls to contact the families directly and try it that way. You don't know their leader. He's very intelligent, has a real grasp of political pressure. He's psychotic, but far from stupid."

Jim could tell that his jaw was going to need to be pried apart by the end of this conference. "What did you have in mind?"

"Calsen's waiting for us in Bolivia. He's getting weapons together. We go in and get them out."

"Just like that."

A wolfish grin surfaced on Kyle's face as he agreed, "Just like that, Sir. Working with you was always like being part of a well-oiled machine. Whatever strategy you want to employ is fine with me."

Fuck! When had he gone from being part of the mission, to being in charge?

Kyle's grin faded and he got to his feet. "I'm sorry, Sir. I know...I know this is a difficult decision for you, but truthfully, you were the first person I thought of. You've been out for a long time, but your skills are still there. I know you knew that I was there, I saw you looking for me the last few days and I was as hidden as I could get. You're the best I know and that's what I need to get my men out."

Looking back out the window, Jim deliberately cast his hearing for Blair, momentarily ignoring Kyle in favor of the soothing tones of his Guide.

"No, no, I mean it!" Blair was saying with a laugh. "I've never seen anyone pull off that shade of magenta with style before, but you do it with incredible flair!"

"You're impossible," Tisha scolded, a laugh in her voice.

"Not really. Matter of fact, I've been told that I'm pretty easy, but don't spread that around."

Jim snorted in amusement and closed his eyes. He'd be gone for a couple of months at least, how would he do that without Blair at his side? They hadn't been apart for more than a week at a time since Blair had exploded into his life five years ago. Not even the dissertation fiasco had driven them apart, though it had come damn close.

Even though he didn't need Blair for his senses any more, Jim had come to rely on him for other reasons, some he considered even more important than control of his senses. Blair was a central portion of his life in Cascade. Hell, he was a main part of his life period, the other man's influence running very deep. He wasn't the same person he was before meeting Blair, which was a good thing, in Jim's opinion.

"Captain?"

Even as he fought the call inside that demanded he step up, Jim knew he was going to lose. He couldn't knowingly leave men to die, abandoned as he had been by the government for which they'd fought. He turned from the window and glared at Kyle, who stepped back a pace in response. "Meet me at the airport, I'll be there directly."

Relief spread over Kyle's face before he nodded sharply, his face losing all inappropriate expression. "Yes, Sir. I'll have everything ready."

"Dismissed."

Kyle saluted and left, the door closing softly behind him.

Opening the balcony doors, Jim closed his eyes to savor the cold wind that blew over him. It provoked goosebumps and a chill to run down his spine, but Jim tried to memorize the feeling. He tracked Blair leaving the bakery and coming up the elevator, then entering the loft, but didn't face him as he came up from behind.

"What's going on, Jim?"

Jim's voice was harsh as he bit out, "Duty."

There was a pause, then, just as harsh, "No! Jim, no, man, they can't do this! You've done your time, you've paid a higher price than anyone should ever have to pay!"

His Guide's distress slammed into Jim. Without thought, he turned and grabbed Blair, pulling him into a bear hug and holding tight. Blair's hands clutched at Jim's jacket, which he'd never taken off.

"They can't fucking do this! You can't fucking do this, Jim!" Blair exclaimed, panicked, against Jim's chest.

Sighing deeply, Jim rested his cheek against the soft curls and answered simply, "I have to."

"What about me?"

The plaintive, soft words ripped Jim's heart out and left it bleeding. Blair knew that he wasn't going, had probably known it the second he'd caught sight of Jim at the balcony. One thing that had plagued the younger man his entire life was being abandoned by those he loved; specifically, his mother as she had flitted about the world without him. Jim had taken that fear and buried it, if not disarmed it altogether.

Now, Jim was taking the certainty that Blair had come to rely on and was destroying it. When he'd left his family for the army, it had been pretty much without a second thought, certainly without a backward's glance. Leaving Blair didn't even fall into the same category. This was like walking barefoot over hot coals, only far worse.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I'll be back, Blair, I promise."

Blair shoved him forcefully away and shouted, "Don't you fucking promise me anything, Ellison! Don't! You want to leave, fine. You want to go play some God damned hero, I can't stop you. But don't sop your conscience with meaningless words because you already promised me, remember? After the diss? You said, and I quote, 'Nothing's going to make me leave.' Well, that shows how much your word to me means. So fuck off, Ellison!"

Jim flinched when Blair stormed into his room and slammed the door hard enough to crack the glass. He was shaking with the force of Blair's rage, feeling it like a physical beating. The bond between them, always a vague, comforting blanket at the back of his mind sliced into hyper-awareness, cutting into him painfully, worse than staring into a spotlight with a migraine and his senses on full.

Sighing, he went upstairs and pulled out his old army duffle. It didn't take long to pack, just the essentials, after all. Maybe twenty minutes later, he stood outside Blair's door, willing the other man to forgive him and say goodbye. He knew that Blair knew he was there, but silence was the only thing between them.

Pressing his hand hard against the crack in the glass, Jim deliberately sliced his palm on it. He bit down a gasp at the cut and curled his fist tight to make it bleed. Then he reached out and laid his hand flat on the unbroken glass, outlining his palm in blood.

With a heavy heart, Jim turned and headed for the door, shouldering his pack as he went.

* * * *

Blair didn't move, couldn't move, point in fact. He was literally rooted to the spot in the middle of his cluttered room as Jim walked slowly upstairs to pack. Betrayal clogged him, pain and fury tying for a close second, making him sick enough that throwing up was a real possibility.

How can he do this? How can he just up and leave? How can he disregard everything at the beck and call of an organization that almost destroyed him? That left him for dead?

The thoughts turned and twisted in his gut, over and over. Time slipped from him as he grasped the fact that he was losing his Sentinel. That it was entirely likely that Jim wouldn't come back from whatever dangers he was about to step into. His life loomed before him, empty, and he was filled with a bleak certainty that from this moment on, life as he knew it was over.

A large shape stopped outside his door and Blair turned to look at it. Distorted and almost hidden by the glass, Jim palmed the break and cut himself on it. Blair watched as the outline formed from the other side, felt the pull from Jim to forgive, felt the need inside to keep his Sentinel where he was, to hold on tight and never let go.

This was what he was supposed to do. Join his Sentinel in battle and keep him safe. It was what he did every day, on the streets. Doing it here or in some foreign country made no difference.

When Blair blinked back to awareness, Jim was gone and panic seared into him. He lunged forward, shoving the door open and running flat out. Ignoring the elevator, he took the stairs three and four at a time, pushing aside the pain tearing through his joints as he did so. Blair burst out the front door of the apartment just as a cab pulled away and screamed, "Jim! Jim, wait! Wait!"

The cab made it to the corner before stopping, but Blair was still running, chasing it. He got there just as Jim stepped out of the vehicle and slammed full-body into his partner. Jim's arms surrounded him as the larger man rocked back with the force of impact. He held tight, face pressed into the solid warmth of Jim's chest. Frantic, he repeated over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Jim bent around him, face pressed against Blair's ears as he whispered, "It's okay, I know."

Shaking with how close he'd come to letting Jim go, especially under such bitter circumstances, Blair leaned back and stared up at his partner. Fierce, he stated, "You're not going anywhere without me, James Ellison."

"Blair..."

"No!" Blair interrupted. "Forget it! I'm your partner. I watch your God damned back and I do it better than anyone else on this planet. I don't care what kind of permission you have to get for me to stay with you, but I'm not budging."

Jim stared down at him for a good minute before a faint grin teased his lips. "This is you being stubborn, isn't it?"

Relieved that he hadn't totally screwed things up, Blair nodded and agreed, "You better believe it."

"All right. Let me handle the cab and we'll get you packed."

A little suspicious that it was that easy, Blair kept a grip on Jim's jacket as he leaned into the cab and explained that there had been a change in plans, could he wait or come back in fifteen minutes? The cabbie agreed to wait, so Jim left his bag and they walked back to the loft. Blair's hand remained where it was until they were inside the apartment, and Jim didn't comment.

"All right, Chief. Pack only what you can't live without. Clothes and underwear, money, passport, ID," Jim ordered.

Blair tugged his partner into the bedroom with him, determined to keep a close eye on him.

"I'm not going to leave without you, Chief," Jim promised quietly.

Not answering, Blair grabbed his largest backpack and started shoving things in it, including a few books, notebooks, and extra pens and pencils. He didn't know how long they were going to be gone, but he wanted to have something to do for when they were waiting for whatever it was to start. Jim had told him over the years that it was a lot of, 'hurry up and wait,' with the military, so he was going to be prepared.

"All set?"

Blair nodded and pulled the backpack on, then saluted. "Ready to go, Captain, Sir."

Snorting, Jim pushed the hair out of Blair's face and said, "Very funny, Chief. Let's go."

When they reached the door, Blair took a last look around the loft, his first real home, and his gaze lingered on the door with the bloody imprint of Jim's hand. "Simon's going to think that something happened to us."

"Something has," Jim said simply, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Blair. Time to go."

Taking a breath, Blair nodded and shifted closer to Jim as he pulled the door shut behind him.

* * * *

Blair could tell that Wintry was less than thrilled with seeing him at Jim's side, even though there was no visible change in his expression. He'd had five years in learning how to decode Jim, after all, and these two were cut from the same cloth. Setting his backpack on the ground, he greeted easily, "Hey."

Wintry looked at Jim. "He's a civilian, Sir."

"He goes, or I don't."

That threw the other man into confusion. "Sir?"

"I have my reasons."

After a bemused moment, Wintry nodded. "All right then. Let me go get another ticket."

Blair watched him go then grinned at his partner and said, "You really gotta love the military mind set. He's obviously killing himself with questions, but doesn't dare ask you about what your reasons are for having a useless civilian along for the ride."

Snorting, Jim corrected, "Oh he'll question it, just not in front of you."

"Oh yay. Another closed society to worm my way into," Blair muttered.

Jim's hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. "If it helps, you've already got an in with me."

Grinning foolishly, Blair said, "It helps."

* * * *

Blair knew that Wintry was looking at him, could feel it from across the aisle, but ignored it. He continued to stare out the window at the unending expanse of deep blue beneath the plane. When the other man wanted to know why he'd been brought along, he'd ask. Well, Blair assumed that he would anyhow.

Leaning closer, Jim murmured, "You can relax, he's not going to do anything to you."

With a snort, Blair looked over into pale blue eyes and replied, "I know. He's got the fear of Ellison in him."

"Funny, Chief."

"You think I'm joking?" Blair countered. He leaned back in the seat and half turned to face his partner. "What exactly did you say to him before we got on the plane?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Jim shrugged and answered, "Nothing major. Just that we had worked together for a long time and I trusted you implicitly."

"Right. No mention of being gutted like a fish, or beheaded if anything happened to me?"

"Of course not!"

Blair eyed Jim closely for a moment then grinned and accused fondly, "You're such a liar."

A reluctant smile hovered as Jim said, "I may have mentioned that cities would be leveled if you were hurt. But that's it, I swear."

Chuckling, Blair nudged Jim rudely with his elbow. "Dick."

Jim echoed the chuckle and said, "Speaking of which, I have to use the little Detective's room. I'll be back."

With a head shake, Blair closed his eyes and leaned his head back. It was a long flight to Bolivia and the emotional drain from his confrontation with Jim had taken a pretty big toll. He hadn't felt this bad since Alex. When the seat beside him was occupied a minute or so later, Blair knew it wasn't Jim, but didn't open his eyes. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"How'd you know it was me?" Wintry asked, a startled edge to his voice.

Shrugging, Blair answered, "I knew it wasn't Jim."

"Why are you here, Sandburg?"

Oh yeah. Hostile, much? "To watch Jim's back."

"You don't belong here," Wintry said, not unkindly. "You're not prepared for what we're going to have to do."

At that, Blair's eyes opened and he looked at the other man steadily. "You have no idea what I'm prepared for."

Wintry frowned and asked, "What's that mean?"

"It means that you know nothing about me. Maybe you should before you decide what I'm not qualified for," Blair pointed out.

There was a long pause wherein Wintry just looked at him. Then he said, "Okay. Fair enough. What qualifies you?"

"Let's see. I've worked with the police for five years now. I speak multiple languages, including a few native ones where we're going that you probably don't speak. I've been on several jungle expeditions, so I know my way around. I've been shot, held hostage, almost blown up a couple of times, dangled off a high-rise, been in a dozen shoot-outs and, most importantly, I'm Jim's partner. He goes nowhere without me."

"I can see that, but you know what, Sandburg? Just because he's in love with you doesn't make you qualified."

Blair froze, then looked back at Wintry. "Excuse me?"

Frowning, Wintry asked, "What?"

"Jim's not in love with me."

"Sure looks it to me."

* * * *

Jim cursed at Wintry's stubborn declaration and his own untimely bladder. Finishing up, he zipped his pants and put his hand on the door, unlatching it, when he stopped at Blair's response.

"Look, Wintry, I don't know what you think you're seeing, but that's not it. Jim loves me, yeah, and I love him, but that's because we're partners and best friends."

"If you say so," Kyle answered doubtfully.

Blair's voice was firm as he stated, "I do."

Leaning back against the sink, Jim ran a shaky hand through his hair and sighed deeply. That was a little too damn close for comfort. That would be all he'd need. For Blair to discover at thirty thousand feet, and from someone else, that Jim was in love with him.

He turned back and flipped the faucet on, keeping his hearing up to monitor the conversation, which ranged back to the safer topic of Blair's qualifications. Jim could have told his partner that Wintry wouldn't accept anything he said, that it would take an actual situation of some kind to prove his worth. Still, Blair was a talker and that was what he did first.

Jim snorted to himself, wondering if he should just provoke Blair into fighting Kyle once they were on the ground. Blair could more than hold his own in a fight, even against someone with Wintry's training. Jim had seen to that and more before Blair had put on the badge for real. He probably wouldn't win against Wintry, but he'd definitely give the officer a run for his money, certainly enough to gain the man's respect. Blair was already on edge if his voice was anything to go by, so it wouldn't take much. Something to get his protective instincts for Jim going would be the easiest way.

A high pitched whine from the engine cut through his brain, sending him crashing to his knees in agony, clutching his head.

* * * *

Blair jumped over Wintry when the first spike of residual pain from Jim hit him. He ran down the aisle to the mens' room and shoved the door open. Dropping to his knees, Blair pulled his partner against him, arms wrapping tight around Jim as he bent over the larger man and ordered in a soft, compelling voice, "Block it out, Jim, filter out the noise and lower the dial."

It took several minutes and many variations of that before Jim groaned and shifted against him. Blair heard the sniffing as Jim used his scent to ground and distract himself. A few moments later, Jim relaxed in his arms and looked up at him with a grimace. Smiling back, Blair asked, "All better now?"

Eyes rolling with self-derision, Jim nodded and started getting up. They both stood to discover that they had an audience, Wintry at the forefront. Issuing a reassuring smile, Blair announced, "Everything's fine, folks. Just a minor problem with the flushing system. He almost fell through. I barely got to him in time."

There were several chuckles as the other passengers and staff dispersed, but Wintry stayed where he was and asked, "What happened?"

Blair met Jim's eyes and shrugged minutely to indicate it was up to him what to say.

"I'm fine," Jim stated, brushing past him down the aisle.

Wintry blocked Blair from following and demanded, "What happened?"

"If he wanted you to know, he'd have told you," Blair answered simply.

Glaring, Wintry hissed, "My men are at stake here, Sandburg. If he's going to have some kind of seizure at a critical point then I need to know."

Blair looked at him calmly and replied, "It's my job to make sure that doesn't happen. Now, if you don't mind?"

After a moment, Wintry stepped aside, though Blair felt his eyes on him the whole trip back to his seat. He climbed over Jim and settled back down with a sigh, closing his eyes. A few seconds later, Jim's hand rubbed the back of his neck in strong, soothing movements.

"Tired?"

Blair nodded and admitted, "Yeah."

"Get some sleep. We've got a long flight yet."

Nodding again, Blair yawned and relaxed into the gentle massage, drifting slowly into sleep, Jim's reassuring touch leading the way.

* * * *

"God."

Jim looked over at Blair's soft exclamation with a faint grin. They weren't two minutes outside the airport doors and sweat was gathered thick along his partner's forehead, dampening his hair in short order. "Forget about the heat?"

"No. Just forgot why I had short hair all the time I was on expeditions," Blair answered, grinning back at him. Jim arched an eyebrow at him and Blair amended, "Shorter hair."

"That's what I thought," Jim agreed, nudging him towards the jeep at the curb.

Even from there, he could see Calsen's brilliant red crop-top and aimed them that way. Jim shouldered Blair's pack and picked up his own, pointing him to the vehicle. Wintry had stopped to make a phone call and would join them when he was done.

Calsen shifted in the open top jeep and grinned broadly upon catching sight of Jim, jumping out of the vehicle to meet him. Tossing the bags into the back seat, Jim took the offered hand and shook it firmly. Bright green eyes smiled up at him with honest pleasure and Jim saw that nothing had changed; the slight man was still a leprechaun come to life.

The other man's motto had always been, You can get more with a kind word and a shillelagh, than you can with just a kind word.

"Captain Ellison! It's great to see you!"

"You too, Calsen, you too," Jim replied, releasing his hand. "This is Blair Sandburg."

Calsen looked Blair over for a second, taking in the khaki shorts, plain beige t-shirt and sturdy boots with an interested look. As they shook hands, Calsen greeted, "Call me Rick."

Blair nodded with a smile and agreed, "It's Blair."

Wintry arrived and added his pack to the pile in the back seat. "Hey Calsen."

"Well now, and if it isn't old home week," Calsen joked with a fake brogue.

Shaking his head in amusement, Wintry said, "Time to go."

They got into the jeep and if Blair sat a little closer to Jim than was normal for two grown men, the other officers didn't comment on it. Maybe Wintry had filled Calsen in on something that he didn't even understand but thought he did. Whatever. As long as no one tried to come between him and Blair, things would go just fine.

He grinned when Blair started pointing things out to him, talking excitedly, comparing and contrasting to the last time the anthropologist had been there. He saw the grin on Calsen's face, and the resignation on Wintry's, and snorted to himself. It definitely wasn't going to be a military operation, but then, maybe that would give them the edge needed to rescue the condemned men.

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