Revenge ~ Gettin' Even
By: Darwin's DAMeS (Denise James, Agnes Mage, Monica Massey, StarPlaza)
For Star, Aggie, and Monkee, who know that this is just for fun.
Disclaimer: The characters used in the following story are the soul property of Pet Fly Productions. Dane Hart and N.O. Hart are fictional characters and were created by a few frustrated women who needed to vent. No actual network executives were injured during the creation of this story. The letters of the broadcasting company have been changed to PNU...for P oN U, to protect the innocent, namely me. We are not making any money from this, therefore please don't sue, you'll get what we are getting.....NOTHING! Anything negative should be directed to me, as it was my idea, at which time they will be deleted. (again, this was for fun!)
Please take this story in the way that it was intended. It was written out of fun. No ill will was intended. This is fiction folks, lets have fun with it. It had started out as something serious, but then, with everything that was going on, I wanted to let Blair have his revenge. I asked a few friends if they would like to help and they agreed. I think we all wanted to get even with the PTB. Thus the title Revenge~Gettin' Even.
Thanks to Star and Aggie for the name "Darwin's DAMeS" If memory serves me correctly, Aggie came up with it and Star saw that DAMeS worked well as an anagram of our initials. It was so much fun, I hope that the DAMeS can work together again soon.
Enjoy, Denise.
Jim stood on the balcony reveling in the cool night air brushing across his skin. The fragrance of honeysuckle tickled his nose, while the sweetness of it caused his stomach to growl. The door opened and Blair joined him, handing Jim a beer and a Sub. "Thanks Chief."
"No problem man." Blair looked out across the city, the breeze gently blowing his curly strands of hair around. His eyes captured the twinkle of the stars overhead. Jim watched the young man beside him, so thankful that he was still among the living. It had been just too close this time.
Jim was still worried though. Normally Sandburg was a bundle of energy, always on the go. But he had been strangely quiet since getting out of the hospital a week ago. Blair was usually so open about what was bothering him, but now he seemed to be holding back. "Chief, is there anything that you want to talk about?"
Blair never diverted his gaze from the city. "No. Why do you ask?"
Jim finished the sip of beer he was taking. "It just seems like something's bothering you. I thought that you might like to get it off of your chest." He glanced at Blair, hoping to read something in his expression.
"I've just got a lot on my mind. A lot of shit has happened lately, and I just have to sort through it." Blair picked his bottle up, from the railing, took a long pull, then tucked some of the curls that were blowing across his face, back behind his ear.
"I never did apologize for the way I acted before you...." Jim just couldn't bring himself to say it.
"I understand. It's no big thing. Really. Oh by the way, thanks for having my stuff moved back in." Blair looked down at the people walking down the street below them, still finding it difficult to look at his roommate.
"It was the least I could do." The short conversations between he and Blair were about to drive him crazy. There was something missing. Jim knew that he had hurt Sandburg's feelings by shutting him out and most importantly, by throwing him out of the loft. Jim couldn't explain why he did it. He only knew that he was beginning to feel trapped, like people were beginning to steal his space. He felt the need to protect what was his. It was so primal and not at all like himself.
"I would have been okay you know. A friend at the University said I could stay with him." Blair said, peeling the label from his beer bottle, throwing tiny pieces of it into the breeze and watching them float to the street below.
Blair didn't realize that Jim knew that the invitation was only good for a few days. "Yeah, I know. But the place just wasn't the same without you here. I'm really sorry Blair. I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have thrown you out."
"It's not just that Jim," Blair said in a calm voice.
Jim's eyebrows went up. "What then. What has this wall between us? I can't stand it any more. I need my friend back....I need you."
Blair smiled slightly, and took another sip from his bottle. "It's a lot of little things."
"I'm listening Chief."
"Yeah, now you are." Blair turned to look at Jim. The pain and pent up emotion, of the past few weeks, evident in his blue eyes.
Ellison felt himself go on the defensive, but quickly pulled himself back in check. "Go ahead."
"This has been going on for quite sometime now. I won't go into everything, just the things that hurt the most. I think that it's only fair that you should know." Blair shifted his weight and looking out over the darkened landscape, tried to summon the appropriate words so that Jim would understand without additional feelings being hurt. Taking a deep breath, he began. "Do you remember when you read the first part of my dissertation?"
Jim nodded.
"You acted like....I had betrayed you with it. You were the one who read it, after I specifically asked you not to. I told you that it would hurt the validity of my research, but you read it anyway. Then you had the nerve to say that you *thought* we were friends....." Blair turned and looked Jim in the eyes. "Do you know how much that hurt me? After everything that I have been through with you? And you question our friendship?"
"Blair, I never..."
Blair cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Jim please. Let me finish." Blair ran a hand through his hair, his mind swam with every thought and emotion that wanted to get out, wanting to be heard. He had to keep them under control. Getting emotional and ranting like a lunatic were not going to accomplish anything. "When you left on your private fishing trip, you said that you needed your space. I would have understood, really, I would have. If you would have told me instead of dropping it like a bomb, as you were walking out the door. You have no idea how close I was to taking that apartment downstairs. Simon had to talk me out of it when we got home..."
Jim searched Sandburg's face. Or at least what he could see of it, behind the mad whirlwind of curls. "Blair I...."
Again Blair's hand went up to stop him. Jim quickly shut his mouth, allowing the young man to continue. "I never told you because I got over it. Simon and I had a good long talk, and I was cool with it. I understand the need for privacy and space. I need those things too. I just need to know when you are feeling that way so I can make arrangements to get out of the loft for a while. I don't mind leaving."
Jim heard Blair's heart speed up. He knew Sandburg was lying about leaving willingly. But it touched him that Blair would do it, if it was what he needed. "You shouldn't have to leave Chief."
Blair shook his head in protest, "It's your place man. I'm just here as a guest. I've had a feeling for a while now that it was just too good to last. That you would be getting sick of me and want me out." Hearing himself say these words caused a pain in his gut, as well as his heart. As if someone were stabbing him, and then twisting the knife. "I never intended to take advantage of your hospitality. I....."
"Stop it Chief. Right now. Yes, I hold the deed to the loft. So what. We're friends. Don't ever think of yourself as just a guest in this house. You belong here. This is as much your home as it is mine. You have never taken advantage of me. If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here. Understand?"
Blair nodded silently.
"Okay, I know that there's something else. So you may as well spill it."
"I really think that I've said enough." Blair squirmed.
"No. You're still holding something back. I think I know what it is, but I want to hear it from you."
Blair couldn't believe what was happening. The whole time he was in the hospital he kept going over everything in his mind. He promised himself that if he ever got the chance he was going to lay everything out on the table. Tell Jim just exactly what he thought about the whole thing. But that was before Jim had his things moved back into the loft. 'I can't believe I'm backing down. What's wrong with me. So what if he wants me back in the loft again. That shouldn't matter, I should still stand up to him and say my peace.'
Jim could see the battle going on inside of Blair. His face read like an open book when it came to his emotions, and right now it was clear that there was a major war going on with them.
"I umm..." Blair shifted again. He suddenly felt like he did when he was seven and broke Mrs. Bentley's window, while playing stick ball in the street. 'Damn, I never had a problem trying to find the right words...now look at me. Come on Sandburg, you can do it.'
"When I started helping Alex, it wasn't to hurt you. I thought that she needed my help, like you did.....or once did." Not wanting to look at Jim, Blair started nudging dirt over the edge of the balcony with his tennis shoe. "I was so excited. I had found two sentinels. I never dreamed that I would find one, let alone two. I had to make sure she trusted me enough to let me help her. She hadn't been having such a good time with the cops lately, so I didn't think that it would be such a great idea for her to meet you just then. And then you started pushing me away, shutting me out."
He paused, frowning at the painful memory. "I didn't know what was going on with you man. You wouldn't talk to me. Okay,...." He reluctantly admitted with a wave of his hand, "it may have ticked me off a bit, so I may have spent more time with Alex. It wasn't until you told me about the spotted jaguar and the dreams that you'd been having, that I started putting two and two together. It was then that I realized how territorial you had become. I finally realized that somehow you were sensing Alex. I was overwhelmed by the possibilities. I knew that it would have to be a controlled meeting. Man, you just don't know how hard it was for me. I wanted to share all of this with you. And I was about too, until you pushed me away again. It hurt me that I couldn't even talk to my best friend without getting the brush off. I was beginning to feel alone again."
Blair took another sip of beer followed by a deep calming breath, while trying to get his tumultuous thoughts under control. "I was going to tell you about her Jim, you just beat me to it. You figured it out on your own. What I don't understand is why you thought that I was doing this on purpose, like I just wanted to hurt you. That was never my intention. I guess I had hoped that by helping her through her problems, it would give me more insight into this Sentinel thing and help me be a better guide to you." Blair rubbed his face, and tucked a few renegade strands, of hair, behind his ear. He wondered if Jim was *really* hearing everything that he was saying. At times, Jim had away of hearing just what he wanted.
"It just seems like you're not sure about our friendship, like you don't trust me. I...." Blair cleared his throat. "..I don't understand where these feelings are coming from. I mean, I trust you with my life. I treasure our friendship, and I'll walk on coals to keep it. I guess I'm just trying to figure out if this whole thing means more to me than it does to you. Am I allowing myself to care too much? I mean, if you can't trust me enough to be your guide, then why should I bother staying here, just to have you throw me out when I start feeling safe again. I can't handle these emotional games anymore Jim. Either you want me as a guide, friend, and partner or you don't. You have to trust me. I only want what's best for you. You have to know that." His tone beseeched. You're the best friend that I have ever had. More than that, you're like a brother to me, but there's no way I could stay here if I thought that you didn't even consider me a friend, let alone trustworthy."
Jim didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what the kid had been through while growing up that had given him the ability to hide his pain so well. He knew Blair was practically a basket case when it came to his emotions, and even though he hid it, Jim could still sense it and Jim kicked himself for not being open to what Sandburg was experiencing. Or what effect his actions would have on the kid.
"Blair, I care for you as if you were my own kid brother. I do trust you, and I do consider you my friend." He paused garnering his thoughts. "It's just that sometimes my mouth gets hung up in high gear and I don't realize what I'm saying. By the time I do, it's all over with. The hurt has been done and I'm not sure exactly what to do to fix it. I guess I'm getting to be more like my old man everyday." He reflected sadly.
Jim sat his empty bottle on the railing and turned to face Blair, wanting to make certain the younger man saw and understood the sincerity of what he was about to say. "I do want you to stay. Like I said before, this is your home. It wouldn't be the same without you....Believe me, I had a lot of time to think about it. When I thought that you were....." Recalling the overwhelming terror and despair he had felt, Jim had to swallow past the lump in his throat before continuing. "...gone, I couldn't think straight. It was as if my anchor was gone. I don't know why I didn't hear your heartbeat at first. The only thing I can think of is that I panicked or something."
"And then, while we waited for you to come around in the hospital, I did a lot of soul searching. Almost losing you made me think about how truly lucky I am to have you in my life." His voice grew rough with emotion. "I realized that it was me taking advantage of you. Taking it for granted that you would be there when I needed you. But not being there when you needed me. I was the one who betrayed your trust, so I wouldn't blame you if you're mad at me. I just want you to know that I would do anything for you....anything at all. I'll try to be more open about things. I guess by locking them up to keep from hurting the ones we love, we only hurt them more in the long run."
Overjoyed and feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Blair nodded in agreement. Shaking his bottle and seeing that it was empty, he was about to offer to get them some more when the phone rang.
"I'll get it." Jim said, walking back into the loft and answering the phone.
Blair was so glad that they were having this conversation that he didn't notice Jim leave the balcony to answer it.
"Ellison," Jim answered on the fourth ring.
"Jim, it's Simon. There's been a murder. Looks like Alex is still at it."
Jim's jaw clenched involuntarily. He glanced towards the balcony just in time to see Blair renter the loft and head for the refrigerator. "Where?" He asked.
"Corner of Fifth and Main."
"Right, we'll be there in five." Jim hung up the phone as Blair was opening up another beer. "We've got another murder." He said, turning to his partner. "It looks like Alex is at it again...."
Blair's eyes grew wide, as the color drained from his face. They had been unable to find any trace of her over the past few weeks. They thought that she had left the state. "I ummm...." Not really wanting to go with Jim, but afraid that he might be needed, he sat his beer down on the island in the kitchen. Closing his eyes, he tried to reign the fear whelming up inside of him.
Sensing Sandburg's reluctance, Jim placed a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder. "You don't have to go you know," he said quietly.
"I know. I want to." Blair replied. Looking up he grinned weakly.
Before they left the loft, Jim handed Blair the beer he had left on the counter. "Here Chief, you may be needing this."
The corner of Fifth and Main was a flurry of activity. It was almost midnight, but with all of the lights from the squad cars, it looked like midday. Blair and Jim made their way over to the crime scene that had already been marked off with yellow tape. The body had not been removed yet. Someone from the forensics team was taking pictures of the area. "Who is he?" Jim asked, looking over the body to see if he could pick up anything that forensics may have missed.
"His ID shows him to be Dane Heart. We found an employee badge for PNU in his wallet as well. We think he was one of the top executives there." Simon stated, looking over the information that his people had gathered thus far.
"I don't get it. Why would Alex go after a television network executive?" Blair gave a puzzled glance to Simon.
"We think that he was somehow connected to everything that she has been involved in as of late. Including your attempted murder."
Blair swallowed nervously.
"Jim, come over here and look at this, would ya?" Rafe called from one of the squad cars.
"I'll just wait here." Blair said, still looking at the body. Then he turned and watched as Jim and Simon walk over to the squad car.
Blair glanced around nervously. Everyone seemed to be otherwise occupied, and no one was watching him. He looked back down at the PNU executive, and feeling an overwhelming sense of anger, kicked the victim hard. Blair looked around, grinning when he thought that no one had seen him.
Suddenly Jim was behind him. "What the hell are you doing!?" He ground out.
"What?" Blair tried to play innocent.
Jim was amazed that Blair could stand there with no emotion on his face. "You want to explain to me why you kicked the corpse.
Blair's brows furrowed with anger as he pointed to the body. "He pissed me off!"
"He's dead Chief. How could he piss you off?" Jim demanded, in a whispering tone.
"Remember the show that I liked? Space Above and Beyond? Well they canceled it." Blair stared down at the body, drawing his foot back and taking another whack at it.
Jim cleared his throat. "Ahh, Chief? That was the FOX network." He looked around nervously, hoping that Simon wasn't watching.
"Humm? Oh....Really? Oops, my mistake." Blair grinned broadly. "The asshole deserved a kick anyway. Especially if he was in on what happened to me. I don't appreciate being half drowned by a sicko Sentinel, and then left hanging in limbo because some network executive has his say so." Blair was getting ready to kick the body again, when Jim yanked him back.
"Whoa there partner. Calm down. Getting violent with a stiff isn't going to accomplish anything." Blair's sudden streak of violence was beginning to worry him.
Blair frowned when Jim grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the body. "I wouldn't say that....I was beginning to feel a whole lot better."
"Why don't you go and wait in the truck for me, okay?" Jim was beginning to wonder how many beers Blair had tonight. He knew for sure that last one had been one too many. The kid never acted this way. The violent behavior was totally unlike Sandburg.
Blair slowly walked back to the truck, his head down, hands in his pockets. Leaning back against the truck, he watched Jim and Simon talk. Several times he noticed Simon seemingly flick some ashes on the prostate figure as if in a gesture of contempt.
Blair's thoughts whirled, full of emotion. He just couldn't stand idly by and let his friends do all the work. Jim needed him. It was time to demonstrate what a true Guide was capable of. Closing his eyes, Blair looked deep inside, seeking the animal spirit he now knew to be residing there. Focusing all his concentration Blair felt himself begin to shift. Unnoticed by the others intent on the crime scene, Blair Sandburg swiftly morphed into his animal spirit. Softly padding over to the inert form on the ground, the wolf grinned slyly, lifted a leg and urinated on the body.
After changing back into himself, Blair returned to the truck. Climbing in, he started it, 'there are more executives out there, where that one came from.' He thought to himself.
Jim looked up, startled to see Blair pull away. 'What the hell is that kid up to.' He wondered.
Blair liked the exhilaration of driving the truck. He knew exactly where he was going. He turned onto the highway leading outside of Cascade. There were other stations and networks out there.
He knew in his heart that the relationship between a Sentinel and his Guide was far deeper than clueless executives could ever fathom. The friendship that had developed between him and Jim went deeper than scripts and onehour drama. It was for all time. Somewhere out there, just like he had found a real live Sentinel and then another, there was reason and sensibility. He knew Cascade had a future. He would just have to find it.
First off, he would go to his office at the university. He wanted to do as much research as possible on the IQ of network executives and their popularity among the intelligent viewer. Then he would enter the data into his computer. There was a dissertation in here somewhere. Just like the existence of a real live Sentinel. People needed to know that accountability and intelligence should exist in the corporate hierarchy. He would query network executives all over the country until he found the one, true, intelligent executive who gave a rat's ass about what the viewer wanted. Blair Sandburg had another dissertation in the works.
The gray light of dawn cast its rays into Blair's office, creeping further and further across the floor as time passed. He had been at this all night and still had yet to find a network executive with an IQ higher than that of a gerbil and the executives at PNU appeared to be the worst of the lot. He sat back with a heartfelt sigh. What would become of him ?
Blair had never been one for vengeance but some hidden part of him came alive....He would rally his army, knowing that there were others out there who felt the same as he did. There was butt to kick and he was ready to start. So he made a few quick calls to his friends. Word spread like wild fire. The phones were going crazy, the E-mail was overwhelming, and the postal workers were threatening to go postal as they delivered the huge sacks of angry fan mail. With the wheels in motion, Blair left his office.
N.O. Hart, Dane's Brother, sat at his desk, trembling with fear. Security had called, stating that there was an intruder on property.
Jim and Simon were still looking down at the lone figure who had at one time been a big network executive. 'Funny,' Simon thought, 'he doesn't look so powerful now.' Sentinel lovers, especially pissed off female Sentinel lovers, could really do a number on high and mighty power dealers. This dead body was living proof. Just then Simon's cell phone rang.
"Jim, we have a B&E at PNU headquarters. The new executive head, N.O. Hart heard about Dane Hart's demise and he's afraid someone's after him," Simon said.
Ellison chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised. "Okay, Simon, let's go, but first I have to pick up some laundry at the all-night cleaners and then I haven't eaten yet. Would you care to join me for dinner? I think this PNU guy can wait, don't you."
Simon nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I hear security is pretty tight over there. I'm sure they have the situation well in hand." 'I wonder where Sandburg went to in such a hurry?' He mused.
"Hi guys." Cassie Wells called, as she ducked under the crime tape.
"Hello Cassie, running a little late aren't you?" Simon glared at the woman.
"I had a date. I do have a private life you know." She said, returning the glare.
As Simon and Jim left, Cassie kneeled down beside the body. She was amazed at the condition of the body. It appeared to have some nasty post mortem bruising on the right side. Urine covered the once crisp white shirt, and ashes, from what she guessed to be a cigar, covered the face and upper torso. She was truly amazed that the murderer would go to such lengths, as if murdering this poor individual just wasn't enough.
Noticing the nice Rolex the victim was wearing, Cassie looked to make sure she wouldn't be seen. She quickly removed the watch and slipped it into her jacket pocket. 'This should keep my bookie off of my back for a while.' She thought while smiling smugly.
Meanwhile back at PNU, Blair had found it relatively easy to slip past the so called security. Ever alert, he hurried down the hall all the while checking the nameplates on the door for the programming director. Finally he found the office he was looking for and grinned evilly. "Revenge is a dish best served cold," he quoted one of his favorite passages and opened the door.
The room appeared to be empty but instinct told Blair otherwise. Letting his animal spirit guide him, he headed over to the desk, pulled out the chair and ordered the cowering executive to come out.
N.O. Hart looked up, his eyes going wide with panic when he realized who was standing there. "But...but," he stammered, "you're dead!"
"No, I'm not!" He exclaimed, yanking the startled man out from beneath the desk. "I just drank a bad algae shake for breakfast....I had gas so bad that I passed out while walking by the fountain. Alex took advantage of this and claimed responsibility. You see, we were having a wild fling and she didn't have the heart to kill me."
‘This could work...' Blair thought to himself. ‘...the doctor said that there could be brain damage. Surely a judge wouldn't hold me accountable for my actions, after all that I have been through.' Thrusting the executive into his leather chair, Blair smiled evilly as he glanced around the office, his gaze taking in the luxurious furnishings and finally settling on the expensive desk in front of him. Blair ran his finger along it's cool marble surface. "Tell me Mr. Hart. Who did you have to brown nose to get such a nice office? What shows did you have to cancel?"
N.O. Hart remained silent, shaking with fear.
"You must make really good money. That painting looks really expensive...." Blair walked over to the painting that hung on the far wall of the office. His eyebrows shot up. "Ohhh, it is expensive....." 'I may as well have some fun while I'm here.' Blair thought as he took out his Swiss army knife. Carefully, he opened it, revealing the freshly sharpened blade. With an evil gleam in his eye he slashed the painting.
"No!" the executive cried, rising from the chair, "That was a present from the president of the company!"
Blair snorted...."Not any more."
He waived the knife around, watching it glisten in the dimly lit room. "Hummmm, now what shall I do about you?" Inspiration struck. Striding over to the desk he opened the drawers and found some duct tape. He looked curiously at the executive standing, still shaking, beside him. "Now, what would you be doing with duct tape?" Blair grinned slyly. "Are you into bondage Mr. Hart?" Then pushing the bleary-eyed, obnoxious businessman into his luxurious leather chair, he secured the man's hands to the arms of the chair and taped his legs together. Hart was so stunned by the question and the sudden actions of the young man, he didn't attempt to resist. With a chuckle Blair gave the chair a quick spin to show he meant business.
Reaching over, Blair turned on the computer, jumped on the Internet and quickly keyed in some commands. The Internet began to slowly browse through the Sentinel Webring. Blair laughed maliciously as he saw the outrageous new nicknames for N.O. Hart flash before the shocked executive's eyes. This was revenge, pure and simple. Pure Poetic Justice.
Then Blair clicked on the Guide Posts' new fiction icon. "This is your assignment Mr. Hart. You are to read every story out there in the Sentinel fan fiction realm. When I return in 2 or 3 days. I want to see every author's color changed and every story hit upon. Then I'll decide what to do with you. I first want to make sure you understand the grave mistake you made with all that damn power those idiots gave you."
Blair placed the mouse in the executive's right hand and positioned the mouse pad on the chair arm beneath the bound hand. True, it was uncomfortable, but Blair didn't feel like a Airline Attendant seeing to the needs of a passenger. Just then the door opened and Jim and Simon walked in. "Hey, Chief, I wondered where you ran off to." Then he saw the poor executive sitting trussed up like a package.
Ellison leaned back against the door, crossing his arms. His amusement at the situation evident in the broad smile that lit his chiseled face.
Sandburg, what the hell is going on in here?" Simon sputtered.
Blair looked up. A self satisfied gleam in his eye. "I'm teaching dumbo here a lesson. Hopefully one that will serve as a reminder to the rest of the anal retentive...." He glanced at Ellison, muttering "Sorry Jim", before continuing..."idiots."
And just what lesson is that Chief?" Jim inquired.
"That programming should be based on more than profit. That they need to take the time to know the product they are producing. But more importantly, they should stop to consider the audience. The people who have invested their hearts and souls into a program. Who have devoted years of their lives in support of it before callously deciding to cancel it, or worse, place it in limbo."
Blair glared down at N.O. Hart. "They also need to throw away their asinine, male chauvinistic, macho bull shit demographics and wake up to the fact that it's the women in the world who are the force to be reckoned with. That it's their preferences and purchasing dollars they should be catering to." Blair slapped the executive up along side the head."Get with the program man!"
Simon carefully considered Sandburg's words. "You know Jim, the kid's got a point."
Ellison nodded. "I always did say he was the smart one." He turned to his partner. "We done here Chief ?"
"Just one more thing," he told Jim. Before the startled executive's eyes, Blair partially morphed into a wolf. "Remember what I told you," he snarled at the man through two inch fangs, "otherwise, I can promise you that you won't like the alternative."
All the color drained from N.O. Hart's face.
Blair morphed back into human form and went to join his friends. "Now, I'm done."
As the three men prepared to leave, N.O. Hart shrieked. "You can't do this!"
Jim whirled around and brushing past Simon and Blair strode angrily back over to the man trussed up like a chicken. Leaning over the desk, Ellison grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and yanked him, chair and all, off the floor, pulling him close until they were face to face.
"Listen to me, you greedy little pig," Jim snarled. "No one would mourn you should you suddenly turn up dead. So I suggest you follow Sandburg's instructions to the letter or that may just happen sooner than later. Do you hear what I'm saying to you?"
Jim shook the man harder. "Do you?" Hart finally nodded and Jim tossed him back down. Spotting the tape on the desk he picked it up, ripped off a large section and placed it over the executive's mouth.
Simon chuckled. "You know Jim, if it's profit they want, I know a lot of people who would pay big bucks to see this." He said with a wave of his hand towards the executive.
Blair snorted. "Yeah, pay per view. We'd make a fortune."
The three men looked at one another, quietly contemplating the possibility and each coming to the same resolution. That to do such would place them in the same category as those they were protesting against. In unison they replied, "Nah," before heading out of the office and locking the door behind them.
As they headed down the corridor, Blair could be heard to say, "However, if we were to donate the money to charity...."
Hart's eyes widened as he heard an evil laugh echo through the corridors. "Muhahahahahahaha."
Hart sat at the computer as instructed. He surfed the Sentinel Webring, finding that he enjoyed the stories that he found. "Maybe we just need new writers?" He mused, wondering if he could persuade some of the writers in the Sentinel fandom to join Pet Fly. Because of the hard work, and support of the fans, Hart became a hard core fan too. He reaches the decision that makes his career. ‘I'll order 8 more episodes for this season.' He found himself practically becoming giddy with the knowledge that he would have new episodes to watch. He wondered if the Webring keeper would be forgiving enough to allow a new writer into the fan fiction realm. Ideas were already forming in his mind for possible stories.
The rays of dawn worked their way into Hart's office. To him this represented a new beginning, a new lease on life, he was definitely a changed man. No longer would he base his judgement on computer printouts and what he thought the higher ups wanted. Now it was in the hands of the public and what they wanted to see. He was busy forming his programing strategy, when the cleaning lady came in and saw him bound and gagged. She screamed, shocked at the sight before her. Then discovering that Hart was okay, she uttered something that Hart couldn't understand in Spanish, as she crossed the room stopping at Hart's side. Hart bounced in his chair, his cries muffled from the tape. Finally the woman frees Hart, taking her time ripping off the duct tape that covered the man's mouth. "Thank you Rosa." Hart gasped breathlessly. Rosa nodded and left the room to retrieve her cleaning cart.
Hart quickly gets on the phone with his people. "Contact Pet Fly....I've changed my mind."
The moral of the story.....Everyone can have a change of "Hart", although sometimes it takes a little persistence and a lot of faith. Good things *do* come to those who rally together to fight for a common goal.
The End.
Thanks TRIBE for making the ending a reality!
