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"They're going to love you at the Academy. Captain, I'm going to make a little Blairskin rug for you here..." Jim said, hooking Blair in to his side with his cane. He wrapped his arm around his Guide’s neck and pulled up a thick lock of curls.

"You're not going to scalp me! Forget it!" Blair said, ducking his head in an attempt to pull out of the detective’s grasp. "Jim! Give me a minute here." He dropped his voice, so it was almost too faint to be heard amidst the laughter and lighthearted banter. Placing both hands on Jim’s chest, he shoved himself away.

"What’s the matter, Chief? I know it’s sudden but Simon just cleared all the paperwork with the Commissioner. I thought you’d be pleased," Jim said, looking a little worried as he watched Blair’s grin fade to a frown.

Blair shook his head, still backing away slightly from the detective. "I don’t know, it’s just all… Mom? What about it, are you okay with this? You and I both know your feelings about cops and the establishment."

Naomi turned from following Simon and the others into his office. "Oh, sweetie, I just want you to be happy," she replied, wrapping her arms about her son for a hug. "I feel so guilty about what I did with your dissertation, if this makes you happy, then I’m happy. I’m just going to go with the flow, Blair."

"So you’re agreeing to this out of guilt? I told you already you have nothing to feel guilty about." Blair turned then to face Jim. "I did this, I’m responsible for the whole mess and there was only one way to fix it. It’s fixed."

"Sandburg, it wasn’t your fault. I thought we’d sorted that out. Simon and I felt bad about you losing your position and your doctorate, and we thought the least we could do was get you a job here. You’re practically working as a cop these days anyway," Jim said, puzzlement showing on his face. He’d thought they’d sorted this whole mess out at the hospital. *Where the hell was this coming from? * "Sandburg…"

Blair put his hands up, silencing the conversation. He looked pale and sweaty; his eyes focused on his feet. "You know, this has been a hell of a day, clearing out my stuff from Rainier and everything."

He gestured vaguely toward the exit. "I’m gonna go get some fresh air, okay?" With that, he walked to the door and headed for the stairs, descending down them rapidly.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jim asked Naomi.

Naomi shook her head. "I don’t know, Jim. God knows he’s had a bad time of it lately. Between all of us, me especially, we’ve really let him down."

She placed a gentle hand on Jim’s arm. "Go after him Jim. He may not want to talk, but he needs to know you’re near and that you care. At the moment, he may be wondering what he has left."

Jim hobbled quickly after his partner, extending his hearing to follow the rapidly fading footsteps down the stairwell. He finally began to gain on Blair as the anthropologist pushed open the door to the basement-parking garage.

"Sandburg, you want to slow down a minute, Chief. My leg is really beginning to cramp up here," Jim called as he saw Blair trot toward his car, pulling his keys from his pocket.

He saw Blair stop, as though considering his next move, then he slowly swung around and walked back toward Jim. The detective breathed a sigh of relief and put on a convincing show of hobbling over to the nearest wall.

"Do you think we could talk for a minute, Chief?"

"Nothing to talk about, Jim," Blair answered softly "I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything, that’s all." He looked up, mustering a smile for Jim’s benefit. "What with Simon and Megan getting shot," he swallowed against the lump in his throat, "then you…" Blair waved a hand uselessly in the air as his voice broke and he ground his teeth together in an effort to keep the words steady. "Tell Simon thanks, but I don’t think you’d want someone like me on the team." Blair started to turn away, feeling the hot tears of self-recrimination threatening to spill.

Jim stopped him with a large hand on his shoulder. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is this because you told everyone that you lied and now they think you’re a fraud? You know it’s not true. You told the truth about my senses in your dissertation. Could you turn around and look at me, Blair? I really hate talking to a person’s back."

Jim felt Blair tense, then suck in a deep breath of air before turning back to face him. His face was still pale and damp with sweat, but there were twin points of red in his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot and watery. Jim took a leaf out of his partner’s book and took a slow lungful of air before he trusted himself to continue.

"Your dissertation was honest in every word you wrote. You lied to the press and the University to protect me, to give me back my life."

"Not just for that," Blair said. "It was partly because I didn’t want you to try to turn off your senses. I was afraid of what might happen to you if you did. Like it or not Jim, that is who you are."

"What about you, Chief? Who are you?" Jim asked, motioning Blair over to a small bench positioned next to the elevator and seating himself with a sigh.

Blair squared his jaw as he stood in front of his partner. "Someone who can’t be trusted. Whether I’m a fraud or not, I’ve betrayed your trust more times than I can count lately."

Jim stood then and began to pace angrily. "Jesus, Chief, how many times do we have to go over this? You didn’t betray me to Alex. That was me acting out some kind of weird primal imperative ritual. You said yourself it’s in the literature. She fucking killed you, Sandburg, and I wasn’t there to stop it. I was too busy worrying about my territory being invaded and chasing my ass. If anyone’s trust was betrayed, it was yours."

Blair shook his head and continued on doggedly. "You can’t have a partner you can’t trust, Jim. You can’t go on having doubts about me, waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when I’m going to screw up again."

Blair took a deep breath and then got to the crux of the matter. "I can’t be a cop, Jim. It’s not who I am."

‘Finally, we’re getting somewhere,’ Jim thought. "So, tell me, Sandburg, who are you?"

"You know I used to be so sure of that," Blair answered. "I don’t know anymore. All I know is that everything feels like it’s closing in on me. Maybe Naomi is right, living the way she does. If things don’t work out the way they should, you can just pack up and go. No ties, no…."

"No responsibility," Jim interrupted harshly. "Are you going to leave?"

Blair shrugged.

"Incacha bequeathed a sacred trust to you as Shaman of the Great City," Jim continued.

"I know that," Blair shouted, as he scrubbed his hands through his unruly curls. "That’s all I think about, that and what I’ve done to you." Blair turned to Jim, desperation in his voice. "I don’t want to leave, but like you said, my research is over. There’s no reason for me to stay."

"You’re my guide, isn’t that enough?" Jim asked, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. "If being a Sentinel is who I am, you know I can’t be that without you, without my Guide and Shaman. Please, Blair, let me talk to Simon, we’ll get you on board as a paid consultant. It’ll work out, Chief, trust me."

Blair looked for a long moment at his partner then slowly nodded his head. "I don’t want to leave, Jim."

"Then don’t," Jim answered. He slung an arm around Blair’s shoulders and gently massaged the tense neck muscles as they turned to wait for the elevator to arrive. He ran his fingers along the tear in Blair’s jacket, his Sentinel senses flaring to the smell of gunpowder and burnt leather. "What happened to your jacket?"

"Zeller," Blair answered succinctly.

"First thing we gotta do, Chief," Jim said as he ushered his Guide into the elevator, "is teach you how to duck."

- 31^st August 2000

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