The cell door clanged open and Blair cracked an eye,
hoping against hope that he'd see Jim standing there. It was
Castillo. "Up, Sandburg." Blair stood and was immediately shuffled out and to an
elevator. They went up two floors and he was led into an
interrogation room. Still no Jim. He was brusquely seated, biting back a moan as Griffin
took the seat across from him. Castillo leaned against the
wall. For just a moment, the old Blair flared up. These two
men were ridiculous. How many times had he seen just this
act? He wondered which one would play the bad cop. "Care to tell us why you killed Wagner?" Griffin's voice
was polite, curious. Blair's voice was equally polite as he answered, "Care to
tell me why you're even trying this without my lawyer
present?" "Come on, Sandburg, we're all cops here. You can tell
us." Blair shook his head in wonder. "I want my lawyer
present." He waited. They hadn't mirandized him, and now
they were questioning him without his lawyer....if they
would just ask again..... "Now, now, you don't really need one. We're just being
friendly. Why did you kill him? Was his wife worth it? How
long had you been planning it?" Could these guys really be this stupid? He said it one
more time. "I want my lawyer present - now." "Sandburg, you're going down for this. Make it easy on
yourself, confess." "Fine. I killed him. Happy now? Killed him with one
little punch. Must not know my own strength." They couldn't
be this....... "Buddy, take him back to his cell. Our work here is
done." ...stupid. But they were. And Blair fully understood. But they'd blown it big time.
No miranda, and he *knew* they'd forgotten they'd been
interrupted. He was led back, but before the elevator could close, a
uniformed officer hailed Castillo. "Hold it Castillo. Is that Sandburg?" "What if it is?" "Upstairs, now, room 3. Captain's orders." The officer
didn't notice the sudden pallor of Det. Castillo, but Blair
did. For a moment, the detective stood uncertainly, then,
with a loud sigh, he punched the *one*. As they stepped out, Blair's head turned in each
direction, hoping......and there he was, Jim, striding
toward him, eyes searching, seeing the new bruise, and Blair
saw anger flare up in those pale, now icy cold blues, but
Simon overoad him, pushed him aside and took over. "I'm Captain Simon Banks. This is Cheryl Booker, Blair's
lawyer. Take him in room three. Now." His voice brooked no
argument. Minutes later, Simon, Cheryl and Jim were alone with
Blair. Jim put the bag of Blair's clothes on the small table and
pulled out a shirt, socks and shoes. He took the flannel shirt and as Simon talked, he
literally dressed Blair. His senses had picked up the scent
of blood, of a heart rate that was too slow, and his eyes
had seen the whiteness beneath the flushed skin. "Sandburg, you okay?" Simon asked, worried. Blair nodded as Jim slipped his arms into the shirt and
added, "Simon, the bruise on his temple, that's new." Cheryl had yet to say anything, but she already hated the
way her friend looked. His eyes seemed glassy and now that
the initial flush of embarrasment had ebbed, his pallor
stood out. "Blair? What's happened so far?" He turned to her and gave her a small, grateful smile and
as Jim squatted down to put socks on his feet, Blair spoke
for the first time, his voice so quiet, Simon and Cheryl had
to lean forward to hear. "you're gonna love it, cheryl. they didn't mirandize me.
they questioned me without you, in spite of repeated
requests for a lawyer and they booked me. the whole nine
yards. a lawyers dream." And then as an afterthought and
with the first glimmer of the real Blair, he added, "oh,
yeah, and I confessed." His grin was downright wicked. For a moment, no one said a thing. Then Cheryl hissed
out, "You what?" Jim sat down on the floor, looked up at his partner and
added his own, "You what?" Simon, not to be left out, chimed in with his own
incredulous, "You what?" Blair shrugged and repeated, "i confessed. kind of and
they swallowed it." Jim braced himself on the table, hauled his body up,
sighed, pulled out a chair and sat down facing his best
friend. "Let me get this straight, Chief. You confessed. To
murdering this Wagner guy, yes?" "kind of. They asked me to make it easier on them,
promised it would go easier on me, if i just confessed. so I
said, *Yeah, I killed him, happy now?* then i said something
about one punch and not knowing my own strength, see?" Cheryl smiled. A huge, light up New York City smile. "I
can't believe you did that, Blair. Apparently all those
nights helping me study paid off." He shrugged, the last hour catching up to him. His own
smile faded as he stepped into his loafers. "can I go home
now?" "No, Blair. Your arraignment is scheduled for Monday and
until then.....", her voice trailed off. "They booked you, Chief. The bastards. I'm sorry." He looked dejectedly from one face to the other, then
back to Jim. "I need - a ---- doctor, Jim." Ellison reached over to feel the bump on Blair's temple,
but Blair pulled back, shaking his head. "no, Jim.....they - did a - strip search. full body."
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Simon hissed out. ^<>^<><^><><^><>^<
The flurry of activity that followed both Blair's
announcement and Simon's exclamation, resulted in Blair
being moved to Captain Lopez's office and a doctor being
summoned. As they were escorted to Russ's office, Jim managed to
keep his anger in check, not an easy thing to do at the
moment, not while watching the way Blair was walking. Why
hadn't he noticed it before? Blair was moving slowly, body slightly hunched over, and
obviously in pain. The door to the Captain's office was
unlocked and the four people stepped in, as the officer
who'd let them in, said, "As soon as the doctor arrives,
we'll send him in. Captain Lopez is on his way." Then he
stepped back and shut the door. Jim made a move to Blair, to assist him, but was waved
off as Blair went to the one couch in the corner and lowered
himself gently. If anything, his face was even whiter now,
his lips grey tinged. Simon couldn't watch, so he turned his attention to
Cheryl. "I'm uncertain how Castillo and Griffin's failure to
mirandize is going to help Blair. His confession was, from
what he said, hardly real." Cheryl pulled up a chair next to
the couch and addressed Simon, "It's more than that, Captain
Banks. We're talking *due process* here, and the State of
Washington is a stickler for due process. Those two
dickheads failed in every aspect and if the judge that Blair
goes before takes this whole fiasco any further - wham - I
hit him with due process. It's a technicality, but here, in
Washington, it's a good one." Jim was on the couch with Blair, and he added his two
cents worth. "So basically, you're saying that the
confession has to be their main thrust on Monday?" Cheryl nodded and said, "Exactly." Blair's head was back, resting against the corner of the
couch, his eyes closed, but he added, "we need to find out
what francie said, what she told those two detectives....".
All eyes turned to him, for the first time realizing that
there *was* a story to be told. Cheryl took the bit between
the teeth, pulled out a legal pad and bluntly asked, "Blair,
tell me what happened last night." Blair gave out a large sigh and started his story. He told them how he'd met Francie, at the Cascade PD
charity carnival, how they'd started dating, and finally,
about their last evening together, including Randy's
interruption, words, the two blows and Blair's exit. He
finished and the room was silent for several seconds. Then
the lawyer in Cheryl took the lead. "So, you struck him
once, he slugged you once, both blows drew blood. Correct?"
Blair nodded tiredly. "His blood, could it have gotten on your clothes?" "yes. i wiped my hands on my jeans, and perhaps a bit of
splatter on my sweater. Same with my blood on his clothes.
Consistant with blows struck, yadda-yadda." Cheryl made some final notes, capped her pen and said,
"Here's hoping this friend of yours, Captain Banks, will
give us everything they have." "Please, it's Simon, and I'm sure he will." At that moment there was a quiet knock and the door
opened. "Um, the doctor is here. We don't really have
facitilites......" he was interrupted by Simon. "Fine, show the doctor in here. Thank you, Officer." A few seconds later, Dr. Walter Brent, a physician well
acquainted with Major Crime and specifically with Jim
Ellison and Blair Sandburg, walked in, bag in hand. "Care to leave me alone with my oft time patient?" Simon stood, shook hands and said, "Thank you for coming
Walt. He has a bruise on his temple as well. We'll be just
outside." Jim stood last, none to eager to leave his partner.
"Chief?" Tired eyes opened slowly as Blair smiled slightly and
nodded, "go on, i'm fine." Jim joined Simon and Cheryl outside, but he watched as
the door closed, and as the blinds were drawn. He was
tempted to listen, but the very idea of further invading
Blair's privacy stopped that thought in it's tracks. While they waited, Captain Lopez stepped out of the
elevator. He strode down the hall, hand outstretched.
"Simon, I'm so sorry about this." The two men shook as Simon
responded, "Thanks, Russ. The doctor is with my man now. It
seems that inspite of knowing that he was a detective, in
spite of knowing that they'd dragged him nearly naked from
his bed, they decided it was necessary to do a complete body
search. And apparently none to well. He'd better be all
right, Russ. This whole business has been unconscionable."
Lopez's brown eyes flicked to his office and back to his
friend as he said, "I'm already on top of this. Hargrove
should be here any minute and I have both detectives in one
of the interrogation rooms right now, waiting for me. I just
wanted to check in with you first. Would you care to join me
in my discussion with Castillo and Griffin?" "Very much, Russ. Let's go." Simon turned to Jim, who'd
started to move with them and held out his palm, "No, Jim.
You stay here, I don't want you anywhere near those two men.
Besides, Blair needs you right now." Their eyes met, locking, but Simon's words penetrated,
especially the last ones and Jim finally nodded. He watched
as the two Captains moved to the elevators. <^<^><^><><^><^><><^
"Look, I'm telling you, we didn't know he was a
detective. And frankly sir, it shouldn't make a difference.
A man is dead, and Sandburg is our prime suspect." Castillo had a stubborn set to his chin, having decided
to take the high moral road in this *discussion* with his
captain. "Prime suspect based on what? I read your report,
Castillo. The wife says here," Russ Lopez lifted the report
from the table and read, *It must have been Blair, it must
have. He had to have come back after I left.....dear god.*
Pray tell, how does *that* translate into *both* a search
warrant *and* an arrest warrant?" "We didn't get them, the Lieutenant did. He had them when
we arrived in his office. He told us to go pick up this
Blair Sandburg, so we did." Lopez leaned into his man and hissed, "You're telling me
Lieutenant Hargrove had this all fixed based on this
report?" "That's what I'm telling you." Lopez looked from one man to the other, noting the sweat
gathering on Griffin's upper lip, and the small twitch at
Castillo's right eye. "And neither of you thought this was the least bit
unusual? And how about the full body search? I suppose that
wasn't your idea either?" Castillo shot a surprised look at
his partner, who shrugged helplessly but answered for both
of them, "We turned him over to booking, sir. What happened
after that....." "You disclaim all fucking knowledge, right?" Castillo stood quickly, shoving his chair back as he did,
anger in every line of his body. "Captain, we're *your* people. Sandburg was a suspect as
far as we were concerned. Period. This whole thing stinks.
Who are you protecting, I mean, I know who he is now.....and
he's nothing. We're good men, good detectives, he's a liar
and a cheat. *HE* should be in this room, not us. *HE'S* the
suspect, not us." "HE'S THE FUCKING SUSPECT YOU DRAGGED OUT OF HIS HOME,
WEARING ONLY SWEATPANTS, *AFTER* YOU DISCOVERED HE WAS A
DETECTIVE. HE'S THE FUCKING MAN YOU DRAGGED OUT OF THE CAR
THEN LEFT HIM BRUISED, AND HE'S THE FUCKING *SUSPECT* YOU
BOOKED *BEFORE* YOU EVEN INTERROGATED HIM!" Lopez took a
deep breath and with a much quieter voice added, "You broke
every procedure in the book on this one. You didn't have the
evidence to do more than *ask* him to come in for
questioning. AND YOU BOTH KNOW IT." A rap on the door and an officer sticking his head
through stalled any further comments. "Captain? I was told to let you know....an ambulance has
been sent for - to transport the prisoner in your office."
Simon was up and out the door, a muttered, "Fuck," his
only words. Simon got out of the elevator in time to see a Blair
laden gurney being wheeled from Russ' office, an anguished
Jim on one side, Walt on the other and Cheryl bringing up
the rear. He moved next to Jim and gazed down at Sandburg, whose
eyes were tightly closed. "Jim? Walt?" Jim just shook his head as the gurney was maneuvered into
the elevator Simon had just exited. The ride down was silent, with Simon seething, needing to
hear what was wrong with his man, but understanding the need
to hold off until they had some privacy. Blair still had not
opened his eyes, but he was conscious, Simon could see that
by the grimace as the gurney bounced over the ridge in the
elevator as they exited and turned toward the lobby doors
and the ambulance that waited curbside. Blair was lifted in, with Jim and one paramedic
following. Simon watched as the doors were closed, and as
the vehicle pulled away, he turned to Walt. "Okay, spill." Walt's eyes were still on the fast disappearing ambulance
as he answered Simon. "Who ever did the exam should be shot.
And believe me, Simon, your man has one hell of a law suit
here." He turned to Cheryl, who'd stood silently, her lips a
thin, grey line. "Am I right, Ms. Booker?" "Oh, yeah. And I'll make sure they pay for this." "Walt? I want the details." "To put it succinctly, no lubrication, at least two
fingers were inserted, possibly three, he's torn and
bruised. No excuse, Simon. None. It was done maliciously,
and as far as I'm concerned, with criminal intent. He needs
to be examined, but I'm really moving him to get him the
hell out that place. I have no intention of letting him go
back there either." This was more than he ever would have believed could be
done. His anger was now almost a living thing but thank god
for Walt. Simon turned to Cheryl, his voice low and even. "I'm
going to the hospital, would you get back to Russ, let him
know? He's still with Castillo and Griffin," Simon's voice
then hardened as he added, "And find out *who* did this.
Please?" "I'll take care of everything, Captain. Go." He nodded, shook her hand and he and Walt walked quickly
to their respective vehicles. <>^><^><^><><^><><^><^
Blair didn't speak on the way to the hospital and his
eyes remained shut. Jim wanted to take his hand, to hold
tight, but didn't believe that would be welcomed, so he sat,
staring at the strained, pale face, while planning all the
different ways that he could use to kill the man who'd done
this. And then the different ways he could kill Castillo,
Griffin, Frances, Hargrove....... As they were wheeling Sandburg down the hall and into a
treatment room, he finally opened his eyes and said,
"Homework, Jim. You list all the ways *you* want to kill
'em, and I'll list all the ways *I* want to....okay?" He
gave a small smile, jerked his head to the waiting room and
added, "Now, go - sit. I'm fine." As the gurney disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Jim
standing, openmouthed, he shook his head and wondered, not
for the hundredth time, how the hell Sandburg did that. Did
Jim ever have a thought Sandburg didn't know? He turned,
walked to the waiting room and as instructed - sat. <><^><^><^><^><^>^<>^
Simon spotted Jim, sitting dejectedly in the waiting room
and with a nod to Walt who headed toward the cubicle
currently hosting Sandburg, he walked to Jim's side. "Walt filled me in, Jim. Blair's going to be fine." Jim tore his gaze from the floor and glanced up at his
Captain. "Yeah, I know. Fine, always fine. Doesn't matter
what they do to him, he's always *fine*......" Simon took the seat next to his best detective and spoke
quietly. "Jim, snap out of it. He *is* going to be fine.
Cheryl is working on the D.A. as we speak, I've already sent
Rafe and Connor to interview the wife and Joel is digging
into their background with everything we've got. This will
be over, Jim." Ellison's expression didn't change as his eyes focused on
his clasped hands. "Over for who, Simon? Over for Sandburg?
You think he'll just drop kick this one? You think he
doesn't know *why* this went down the way it did?" Jim's
voice grew weaker as he added, almost in afterthought,
"....and what if he loved her? You think he can just get
over what was done to him? What she did to him?" "Jim - he didn't love her. And sometimes, you're a real
jackass. But don't mistake my words, just because he didn't
love her, doesn't mean it won't hurt. He's trying to make a
life for himself, to move on, and he just keeps hitting this
fucking brick wall, so yeah, it's going to be tough for him,
but this is......" "Simon?" Banks turned his head to lock gazes with Ellison and
said, "What?" "What the fuck are you talking about?" Simon gave an exasberated shake of his head and answered,
"You, Blair. Okay, so you don't love him the way he loves
you. He accepted that, he's trying. And the first time he
finds someone he thinks he can connect with, WHAM, he gets
one, right in the kisser. But this is *Blair* - he bounces.
Always. So it will be hard, he'll need his friends, but
we'll come through, like always." Jim shot up as if a 1000 volts of electricity had just
been forced through the chair, his expression telling Simon
he'd scored a direct hit. Before the man could bellow out an
response, Simon carefully pulled him back down and hissed
into his ear, "If you have something to say to Blair, I
suggest you wait until you're in the *same* room. Got it,
Detective?" Jim stared at his Captain, the range of emotions playing
across his face giving Simon a great deal of satisfaction.
Take that, James Joseph Ellison. Further discussion or satisfaction was interrupted by the
appearance of Walt. Both men stood anxiously as Walt waved
them out to the hall. "He's fine, we've done what we can to make him
comfortable for now. He's cramping up, which is to be
expected, he could go home, but Simon....." "No, you're right, keep him here, Walt, until we hear
from Cheryl. This is better than a cell." Walt patted Simon on the arm, gave a concerned look at
Ellison as he answered Simon with a "you got it", then
turned his attention to Jim. "Detective Ellison, you can see him, I won't move him
unless we get bad news from Ms. Booker. Go ahead, he's
awake." Jim nodded and walked slowly and uncertainly toward the
treatment room. "Is he really gonna be okay, Walt?" Both men were watching Ellison as he entered the room and
Walt waited until Ellison disappeared before answering, "I
guess *okay* will depend on how this all pans out. He's
handling what happened to him during the so-called *search*
better than I am. And frankly, that worries me." Simon turned from the curtained room and faced his
friend. "Why?" Walt absently rubbed his chin as he said, "It's almost as
if - he believes he - deserved it, Simon." <^><>^<><^><^><^<><^><
Blair turned his head toward Jim as the bigger man
stepped up to his side. "Hey, man." "Hey man, yourself. You're looking better." "Feeling fine." "Yeah." Blair frowned in concern as he realized that Jim had not
made eye contact with him since joining him in the treatment
room. "Are *you* okay, Jim?" "Not to use this word again, but - yeah, I'm okay and I'm
fine." "Right. Um, when do I go back?" Jim had been standing beside the hospital bed, moving
anxiously from one foot to the other, his mind jumbled by
Simon's words, by his own feelings and at the moment, by his
need to take Blair in his arms, so Blair's question threw
him. "Back? Back where?" "Duh, earth to Jim......Back to jail. You know, under
arrest, booked - murder......", his voice trailed off as Jim
paled. "Look, Jim, why don't you go - home? Or, go -
somewhere." Jim finally *looked* at his partner as he said, "You want
me to leave?" Blair breathed out a sigh of impatience, shook his head
and said, "Jim, look, we both know what all this means, and
I'm not even sure it isn't for the best. We've had a rough
few - months," his head moved restlessly away from Jim, "my
reputation wasn't much to begin with, and now, no matter how
this turns out, it's finally gonna get buried completely,
which will make it impossible for Simon to keep me with the
department. I think it's time you cut me loose. You don't
owe me a thing, Jim. Step back, take a breather." "step back - take a breather?" Jim repeated, confused.
Blair had this sudden overwhelming need to have a good,
old fashioned, *breathe into a bag - think I'm gonna die*
panic attack. He certainly deserved one. He felt the tremor
start in his hand and quickly said, "Jim, do you mind? I'd
really like to be alone, please?" Jim was still in a state of *take a breather* shock thus
making him especially vulnerable to any suggestions Blair
Sandburg made, so he nodded like an idiot and backed out of
the room. Which left him frozen out in the hall, kind of half in
and half out of a zone, or more appropriately; *in* a
Sandburg zone. Or would that be a Sandburg *induced* zone?
He pivoted once, then again, checked down the hall to his
left, then his right, as if he expected an army of giant bad
asses to storm the hospital..... <>^><^><^><><^><><^><^
His breathing was coming fast and furious now, he could
feel the sweat building up, and the tremor which had begun
in his hand had moved up and become total body shivers. And
he let it happen. Just - let - it - happen. It was his own
version of *letting go*. He'd been hanging on far too long. Hanging on to a life
he couldn't have, to a home that wasn't legitimately his,
and hanging on to a man he had no right to...... Stuck now with his own private thoughts, Blair had no
choice but to admit his folly. He should never have moved
back to the loft after returning from Sierra Verde. For
months now, he'd kept himself busy, first finishing his
dissertation, the academy, then police work, and finally,
Frances. All to accomplish one thing, to meet one goal - to
help him forget that he'd moved back in knowing, or at least
suspecting, that Jim didn't want it. It was time to make a change. Start over. A different
life. To cut ties that bind. Blair's private thoughts were doing nothing for his
current condition. He was forced to roll onto his side, his
arms wrapped around his cramping stomach muscles. He arched
his neck, trying desperately to bring air into his tortured
lungs, his mind screaming at him that he *could* breathe,
but his lungs were screaming just the opposite. Wallow over - get a grip, Sandburg. Deep breathing
excercises, go to your safe place.... NO! Can't go there anymore......never should have changed
from that jungle waterfall to Jim's arms for my safe, quiet,
peaceful place. STUPID! Okay, we can deal with this....new safe place,
coming right up. Mountain stream, cool, rushing water.....tripping over
shiny rocks, a breeze just wafting through the tops of the
trees, providing that wonderful little *whooshing*
sound.....The sky - azure, small tufts of powderpuff
clouds..... //you've been around Francie too long, Sandburg// .....the quiet that only the forest can provide, the
merest whisper of the wind through the bushes, your fishing
line cutting the water, Jim's hand, on your
shoulder....SHIT! Where's a director when you need
one.....CUT! Get the man out, back to an *empty*
stream......YOU"RE FUCKING ALONE, SANDBURG! ....alone..... He could do alone. Been there - done that. Alone. Okay, not so alone in prison. Oh, yeah, think *prison* Sandburg. *That'll* kick this
panic attack to Timbuctoo.....NOT! Have you ever tried to *not* think? So, give it a try you
dickhead. <>^<><^><^><>^<><^><^><
Simon found himself drawn into his own thoughts as Jim
finally joined Blair. Thoughts about his best team, thoughts
of the two of them - together - a couple and it was a
natural progression of his private thoughts.....he'd been
aware for some time that there was more to Ellison and
Sandburg than met the eye. In their early days, when Jim first took the younger man
as his ride-a-long, and then when Blair moved in and
*stayed*, there'd been surprisingly little discussion. Blair
was an obvious favorite with the ladies and if anyone had
thoughts about Jim and his preferences, well, he was *Jim*
and 'nuff said. But gradually, over the years, Simon had seen it happen.
Watched the closeness develope, the bond strengthen between
the two men. And he'd watched Blair Sandburg fall in love.
Watched as dates vanished, as he struggled to enter Jim's
life, to *be* a partner Jim could use, could respect, and at
some point, a point in time Simon could not identify, Jim
had fallen for his roommate. Fallen hard. And fought it
equally hard. And therein lay Simon's conundrum. Why would Jim fight something so right? It's not as if
Jim were a stranger to being with a man, Simon was one of a
close few who knew that much about the man. So why fight it?
Had Simon done the right thing earlier? Giving up the
ghost, so to speak? He glanced up and out the waiting room door, into the
hall and sighed. Jim stood there, looking as though he'd just lost his
best friend. He should do something about it...... Wearily, Simon got up and headed out to the hall and his
best friend.
NEXT