Title: The Third Wheel

Author: Cassandra Alvarez

Email: alloy321@yahoo.com

Date: August 30, 2001

Archive: http://cassandraalvarez.tripod.com/id3.htm

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mild violence; Blair owies; Jim to the rescue; minor "aww..." warning;

Spoilers: None

Summary: An old stalker of Jim's is back and is he jealous... of Blair! What's worse, he manages to break into the loft in the middle of the night... and what do you think he's after?

Category: Drama

Disclaimer: I wish they were mine... and I also wish I had a million dollars!

The Third Wheel
by Cassandra Alvarez

"Ellison! Sandburg! My office, now!" Captain Simon Banks' voice bellowed through the Major Crimes Bullpen.

No one looked up from their work except the two men in question. Casually, they stood and proceeded to the office of their superior. Any stranger at the Station that day would have certainly been biting their nails, silently beckoning the two men to walk just a little faster to their awaiting Captain. But then again, not every stranger knew Simon Banks, Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg, and the relationship they shared. Not only were they co-workers, they were friends.

Jim and Blair strode into the Captain's office and after quick greetings, became seated. Simon paced behind his desk for a few seconds before taking his own seat.

Jim watched his friend and Captain, noticing the obvious stress that the man was in. Troubled eyes met Jim's and he felt a vague sense of familiarity in the air.

"What's up, Simon?" Blair asked, still oblivious to the morose expressions that had passed over the faces of his friends.

"Robert Davis -- that's what's up. He escaped from his mental institution 2 days ago," Simon said, sending a quick glance in Jim's direction.

Jim's eyes widened at Simon's reply. He leaned back heavily into his chair and began rubbing at this temples. Blair immediately noticed this and looked from Jim to Simon before asking, "Hey guys, what's going on here?"

Jim let out a long breath and peeked up at Simon who had suddenly found a great interest in his pen. He looked over at Blair, mutely willing him to understand the silent words coming from his eyes, but he was met with only the confused, but utterly concerned, gaze of his partner. Knowing it was imperative for Blair to know the whole story, Jim took in one more deep breath before starting.

"Robert Davis," Jim mumbled with a shake of his head, not really directing his words to Blair just yet. "Gosh, I thought I'd never have to think about him again." Jim looked at Simon who softly nodded, silently urging his friend to continue. "There's not much I can say about him -- the guy's a nut!" Jim said with a cynical laugh as memories flooded his mind.

Blair listened to his friend, knowing full and well that if he didn't pipe up soon, Jim would continue to beat around the bush for ages.

"Jim..." That single word conveyed all his thoughts to the Sentinel.

Jim understood and capitulated.

"I guess you could say he was sort of like a `stalker'. When I got back from Peru, a package was delivered to me. Inside, there were hundreds, and I mean, HUNDREDS, of letters from this guy Davis."

"What did they say?" Blair asked, trying to learn everything he possibly could.

"Just everything, really. Some of them were simple `Hi, how are you' letters... others, they were really weird..." Jim trailed off.

"Like how?" Blair pressed on.

"I don't know -- one second he would be rambling on and on about how we should `be together' and the next, he wanted to kill me. I told you he was a nut," Jim said, sending a glance over to Blair, who could do nothing more than nod in agreement.

"Anyways," Jim continued, "I threw them away, didn't need them, didn't want them, and I thought that that would be the end of it, you know?"

"Didn't it worry you though? I mean, this guy obviously spent a lot of time thinking about you."

"Yeah, of course it did, at first... but I just figured it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I guess I just thought he would forget about me."

"But he didn't?" Blair offered.

"No," Jim confirmed. "Right after I bought the loft, I started getting phone calls at all hours, day or night, it didn't matter. The guy would just call and the second I said anything, he hung up. At first, I never even made the connection... you know, with Davis.

"Then the letters started coming again. Same as before: first he loved me, then he hated me, then he loved me again. They were delivering 4 or 5 letters a day -- no return address, postmarked from the local post office.

"I did everything I could to figure out who the guy was -- fingerprints, surveillance cameras, nothing worked, he was good at
covering his tracks. The thing I could never get over was that he was always there, always right under my nose, and I never knew."

"What do you mean?" Blair questioned.

"In a lot of the letters, he started writing really personal stuff, things a person could only know about by being right there at my side. He had to have been standing right next to me!"

Simon sighed. "He really had this problem with being the `third wheel', as he called it," Simon interrupted when it became obvious that the Sentinel wasn't bringing it up anytime soon.

"The third wheel?" Blair asked, his eyebrows bunched in confusion.

"Yeah," Simon continued. "In his letters to Jim, he always said that he felt like the third wheel in Jim's life, always second to
someone else."

"In Jim's life? Did you know this guy?"

"No! That was the thing... the guy was obviously so mentally disturbed that he actually thought he was part of my life!" Jim shot.

"He threatened every- and anyone who got close to Jim," Simon added. "But of course, back then, there weren't too many people who were too close to Jim," Simon said with a small laugh, a decrepit attempt to lighten the mood. "But now..."

"... there's you." Jim interjected, staring hard at his partner.

"Me?" Blair squeaked. "You don't think he would come after me or something, do you? I mean, he's been locked up all this time... how does he even know I exist?"

"Life's full of mysteries, Sandburg," Simon answered, passing a single, folded piece of paper to Jim. "This came in this morning. Rhonda said that the man hand-delivered it himself, requested that I read it, then pass it on to you."

Jim silently read the letter then passed it over to Blair, who was in the process of putting on his glasses.

"What's this?" he asked as he took the sheet.

Jim and Simon simply watched as Blair read the letter.

Blair's eyes lingered on the note for a minute longer after he finished reading. Realizing that it wouldn't be taking his partner that long to read the measly paragraph, Jim spoke up.

"You okay, Sandburg?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine, just..."

"He's not going to get near you. I won't let him."

"Oh, I know that, Jim, I'm not worrying about that, it's just... if he's been locked up all this time, how does he know about me?"

"I don't know, Blair, but I think it's about time we found out."

Jim rose and turned to Simon. "Sir, we're going to Havenport, see what we can find."

"Good," Simon said, nodding his head. "Keep me updated."

Jim opened the door and allowed Blair to exit first. Just as he made it out the door, his Captain's voice called him back.

"Yes, sir?" Jim replied, popping his head back into the office.

"Watch out for him, okay?"

"You know I wouldn't do anything less," Jim said with a smile, then left.

******************

"So, how did you catch him?" a much more relaxed Blair asked Jim as they climbed into the truck.

"He made a mistake," Jim said. "He got too close."

"Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay there, Sandburg? I can drop you off at the loft if you..."

"No way, man. I'm not saying I'm scared or anything," Blair explained as he shot a glance at Jim, "but I think it would be in both our best interests if we stayed attached at the hip."

"Both our interests, Chief?"

"Yeah... who knows what kind of trouble you could get yourself into without me!

Jim laughed. "Alright, Darwin, whatever you say."

***************

At 11:30 PM that night, two very tired, slightly upset, and definitely jumpy men walked into apartment 307 at 852 Prospect.

"I can't believe it wasn't him," Blair mumbled for no less than the twentieth time that evening.

"I hear ya'," Jim said as he made his way to the refrigerator for a couple of beers. Settling into the couch next to Blair, Jim handed him one.

"I still don't understand how they could have messed up like that," Blair continued, not touching his beer while Jim chugged his down.

"Like I told you, Chief, this guy Davis, as demented and deranged as he is -- he's good at what he does."

"That does not explain how he fooled the institution into believing some other guy was him!" Blair said, becoming restless.

"Calm down, buddy, it's okay," Jim soothed with a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"No, Jim, it's not okay," Blair shot back, standing up. "That means this guy has been out there, following you... us... for how
long now?"

Jim stood and tried ineffectively to contain the pacing Blair. "Look, Sandburg, first off, you need to calm down," Jim said
>as he tried once again to catch Blair. The young man dodged his partner's grasp and continued to pace wildly, driving the Sentinel completely nuts himself.

"Sandburg, stop it!" Jim yelled as he reached towards his partner. Blair swatted his friend's hand away and tried to get to his room. Jim, having already lost his temper, grabbed Blair from behind and wrapped his arms around the young man. Blair thrashed in Jim's arms and Jim quickly moved to immobilize the frantic anthropologist. Jim threw his foot in front of Blair's. The act tripped the young man, causing his legs to give out and both Sentinel and Guide went crashing to the floor. Jim automatically shifted his legs to either side of Blair's body so as to stop himself from landing directly onto the observer and crushing him. Nonetheless, the tumble knocked the air out of Blair's lungs, leaving him breathless on the floor, a heavy Sentinel on top of him.

Jim held his breath and waited for Sandburg to make his move. He was thoroughly surprised when Blair laughed.

"Chief, are you okay?" Jim asked, a tiny giggle of his own escaping his lips.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'd be better, though, if you'd get off of me."

Jim laughed again, then rose, hauling Blair up with him.

They resettled back on the couch, both waiting for the other to say something.

Blair spoke first: "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Freaking out like that."

"Don't worry about it."

"It's just weird knowing someone's been watching us, you know?"

"Yeah, I know... Look, it's late; let's get some sleep and we'll work on this in the morning, okay? Maybe you could come up with a few tests that'll help me find this guy."

Blair laughed. "Yeah, maybe."

*******************

A soft creaking sound woke Blair from his sleep. He lazily opened his eyes and tried to adjust them to the dark. No sooner did he accomplish this, a massive hand clamped over his mouth and a large body straddled him, pinning his arms to his sides. All of his swirming ceased at the touch of cold metal against his troat.

"Don't make a sound," a mean voice whispered. Blair froze and looked up into the chiseled face above him. Dark brown, nearly black, eyes stared deeply into Blair's own eyes. He could almost feel the man -- Robert Davis? -- tearing him apart with those eyes, ripping away limb after limb, searching, for his heart? His spirit?

What Blair would have given to interrupt the uncomfortable silence between them, but the intruder's hand remained pasted over Blair's mouth and the man's eyes continued to drill through his soul.

"So you're `the new guy', huh? You're the one he cares so much about... his partner. You're not even a cop, are you? Are you?!" the man demanded, pressing the knife closer to the vulnerable skin of his neck.

Blair carefully shook his head, his frightened eyes begging the man to disappear.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" the man asked, almost raising his voice to a normal volume.

`Why do physcos always ask their victims questions when they don't intend to allow them to answer?' Blair thought. Suddenly, a thought flew into Blair's mind. `Where's Jim?!' his brained yelled. `Why hasn't he heard this yet? What has this guy done to him?!' His train of thought was cut off by a greater pressure against his neck.

"Are you listening to me?" the man snarled.

Through cloudy, tear filled eyes, Blair stared up at his captor.

"I should kill you right now," the man punctuated with a growl, "but I think that I need to teach our friend, my friend, Jimmy, a lesson. So, here's the plan: me and you..."

Both men froze at the undeniable sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

******************

Jim awoke with a start. He couldn't even begin to remember the last time he had slept so deeply. But there was an oddness about it -- he was literally "knocked out", almost as if... he had been drugged! The beer he had drank before he had gone to bed!! There was something about the taste... DAVIS! But, if he had dranken it, then... BLAIR!

With the speed of a panther [no pun intended... okay, I lied!], Jim pulled his service revolver from under his pillow and proceeded downstairs.

Frantically, he searched for his Guide's heartbeat. He was rewarded with it seconds later, but the relief was short-lived: the
heartbeat was fast, panicked, and it wasn't alone.

Without switching on any lights, the Sentinel made his way to the double French doors that led to his partner's room. Extending his hearing, he picked up again on his friend's frenzied heartbeat, and then this time, his struggled breathing. He also honed in on the heartbeat of the person with him -- no doubtly Davis.

`Shit,' Jim thought just before readying his gun and kicking the door in.

*******************

Blair flinched when the doors suddenly flew open and Davis twisted his hand even more into Blair's hair, pulling his head up,
and eliciting a muffled moan from the young man. Jim was in the room instantly, his firearm trained on his enemy -- Robert Davis.

Jim followed the doors in and immediately pointed his gun in the direction of Davis. Flinging his hand to wall, Jim flipped on the lights, his eyes never leaving his partner and the demented man with him.

As light filled the room, Jim caught a better glimpse of the situation before him.

Blair was on his knees, bound and gagged, a hand in his hair roughly pulling his head back, a blade at his throat. `God, how long has he been here?' Jim thought, cursing Davis.

Behind his partner, Davis himself crouched, his eyes staring intently at Jim, one hand in Blair's hair, the other clutching the
knife that threatened Blair's life.

Jim's eyes met with Blair's for the first time and he was stung by the fear and pain he found in them. He tried his best to silently reassure his friend before turning his attention to the man he wanted no more than to kill.

"Let him go," Jim growled.

"What?!" Davis yelled, tightening his hold of Blair's locks and slightly shaking him. "What did you say?"

Blair's heartbeat thundered in his ears, as well as in Jim's. He was scared, maybe more than he had ever been in his life. Not only was he scared for his life, he was scared for Jim's. There was no way that the detective was thinking rationally right now, and if Davis succeeded in killing Blair, would Jim be able to get to Davis before the man had a chance to kill Jim?

A yell from his captor and a painful pull to his hair forced another moan from Blair's throat. He was in pain: his head was
throbbing and the constant yanking of his hair did little to help. The metal against his throat was so cool that it almost burned.

***************

"I said, `let him go'," Jim's voice thundered.

"Oh? Is that what you want?" Davis jeered, standing, his grip of Blair's hair unfaltering, thus jerking the young man to his feet also.

"Let... him... go..." Jim's voice reverberated.

"Jimmy... Jimmy... Jimmy... you know, a person could take that to mean so many things. It could mean, `throw him out the window and see if he can fly'," the man laughed, taking a step back with Blair. "Or it could mean `kill him and let him go on his way'," the man said, increasing the pressure on the blade.

A muffled gasp and sudden increase in the already overworked heartbeat of his partner directed Jim's attention back to Blair.

The fear was radiating off the man in waves and Jim wanted nothing more than to pull his guide into his arms and reassure him that he was going to be okay. The prospect was currently impossible, so Jim turned back to Davis.

"What do you want?" he asked in a menacing whisper.

"What do I want?!" the man yelled, yanking so hard it nearly broke Blair's neck. "What do I want? How dare you James Ellison? How dare you!"

"No!" Jim roared. "How dare you ! How dare you come into my home, my life , and try to take what's mine? Take what's precious to me?!"

"Precious to you?" Davis yelled, shaking Blair. "This is precious to you? For so many years I admired you, respected you,
idolized you, and now you tell me that this is important to you?!"

The tears fell freely from Blair's eyes as Davis continued his assault: yanking his hair, pressing the knife harder into the sensitive skin, and shaking him around. He was going to die and there was nothing that Jim could do.

Jim couldn't repress the growing knot in his stomach as he watched his pained partner. Davis wasn't the least bit renouncing his hold on Blair. His heart seemed to be set on a mission, a mission he would complete, even if it meant throwing away his own life.

Jim, determined to his own mission, froze, an idea crawling into his mind, and though he knew it was risky, he had to give it a try: Blair's life depended on it.

Blair tensed as he saw Jim relax. `Oh God!' he thought. `He's not going to give up, he can't, Jim!!'

Jim watched the emotions play over Blair's face and he wished he could somehow explain his plan to his partner.

"You're pathetic," Jim started, his gun slightly lowered, but still ready.

"Pathetic?" the man growled, slightly, very slightly, loosening his grip of Blair's hair.

"Yeah. What do you want? This?" Jim questioned, motioning over the loft with his gun. He didn't want to take the revolver off of Davis, but the plan required it.

"What? This?" Davis asked, the confusion evident on his face.

"Yeah," Jim confirmed. "My house. Something you don't have. That's what you really want, isn't it?"

Davis relaxed and laughed. A sudden knee to the back of Blair's sent the young man to his knees. Davis relinquished his grasp of Blair's hair, but kept the observer pinned against his leg with the knife at his neck.

Jim hoped that the smile didn't come through on his face. With Davis relaxed and Blair down, he could get just a little clearer of a shot at the intruder. Now, all Jim had to do was wait for the egregious mistake that he knew would come.

And come it did, but sooner than Jim thought it would.

Davis laughed again. "This?" he mumbled. "This?" he said, taking the knife away from Blair's neck for an instant to illustrate his words.

That instant was all that Jim needed. In his own instant, Jim raised his weapon and fired. The bullet caught Davis in the shoulder.

What happened next was something Jim hadn't prepared for.

Blair tried as hard as possible to watch his partner. He had a plan, he had to, that was the only reason he'd being doing this.

The second Blair felt the blade leave his throat, a gunshot filled the room. Instinctively, Blair fell forward. He heard Davis scream and then there was another shot. Unable to do anything to protect himself or help his partner, Blair just lay there, silently praying that Jim had things under control.

Jim fired the first shot with the hope of distracting Davis long enough to get to Blair. But when Davis recovered sooner than expected and raised the knife, prepared to lunge for Blair, Jim had no choice but to fire again.

Davis stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. Jim nearly screamed when he saw the man tumble out of the window. `The fire escape,' Jim thought `He's just on the fire escape, he's not going anywhere.'

The sudden "splat" told Jim otherwise. Running to the window, he found Davis' body three stories down, sprawled on the hard concrete. A quick scan indicated no heartbeat.

The threat eliminated, Jim rushed to his partner's side.

"Hey, buddy, you alright?"

"Mphmm... immm..." Blair struggled.

"Yeah, it's okay, Chief," Jim assured as he looped an arm through one of Blair's bound ones. Lifting him carefully, Jim pushed him onto the bed. Lifting his partner's chin, Jim inspected Blair's neck -- it was red, but miraculously, the skin wasn't broken.

"You okay?" Jim said, briefly ignoring Blair's feeble attempts to free himself.

Blair nodded furiously and went back to working on his wrists.

"Cut it out, Houdini," Jim smiled, removing the gag from Blair's mouth.

"Oh... God..." Blair exclaimed. "Oh, man, Jim! He came in through the window, I guess, I don't really know cuz I didn't wake up until he was already in and then he pulled the knife, and I didn't know where you were, you didn't come... Oh man!" Blair tried to explain.

"It's okay, Blair, he won't be bothering us anymore," Jim said as he freed Blair's hands. Turning Blair back to face him, Jim
checked his partner over once more. Upon meeting his friend's eyes, Jim saw that the fear, pain, and distress that was once there had been replaced with trust and appreciation.

"Thanks, Jim," Blair said comfortably.

"Yeah..." Jim smiled as he took his friend, his partner, his Guide -- the most precious thing in his life -- into a warm embrace.

The End
© Cassandra Alvarez, August 30, 2001
alloy321@yahoo.com