*riiiiiiip*

Jim awoke with a start.  He ruefully surveyed the torn halves of his pillow clutched between his fists.  "Damn."

It was the nightmare again.

"You ok Jim?"  Blair peered myopically at Jim over his glasses as he padded down the stairs.  "You look like hell."

"Yeah, I love you too, Chief."  Jim shot back as he made for the coffeepot.  Pouring a cup, he wandered back into the lounge room.  As usual, Blair had taken it over, he and his laptop surrounded by a nest of paper.  Finding a clear spot on the couch, Jim sat down, then reached out and grasped his partner's chin forcing him to look into his eyes.

"What time did you get to sleep?"  he demanded.

Blair began to squirm.  "Yeesh.  Word of advice - drop the mother hen, Jim."

"Uh huh, I thought so.  Go to bed."

"Jim, I'm fine.  I just had to get these notes down while they were still fresh.  You know my handwriting - if I leave it by itself for a day it takes on a life of its own."

"I don't care if it starts building temples down the back of the couch.  You've been sick, Chief. You need to rest."

Blair rolled his eyes. "I'm *fine* Jim.  It was only the flu.  Look, I'm dressed - which is more than I can say for you - I'm awake, and I'm not tossing in the bathroom.  What more do you want?  I'm fine."

"Fine.  But I don't want you going in to work. I want you to stay inside today."

Blair shook his head.  "Uh-uh, man, no way.  Ok, I can do with a day off, but there is no way I'm staying here.  Stuck in these walls all day?  I'll go insane.  I was planning on going to the park, you know, catch some sun.  Besides, the fresh air will do me good" he finished hopefully, turning wide blue eyes on his Sentinel.

Jim looked like he was going to argue, then suddenly grinned.  "Yeah, me too.  I think we could both do with some time off."

"Great" enthused Blair.  "Just let me grab my jacket."

"Can I get dressed first?"

"Oh. Oh yeah."  Blair paused, head tilted to the side.  "On second thought, you should go for the unshaven, white boxer look more often.  It suits you."  He danced out of the way as Jim made a grab for him, laughing.
 

"Give what?" Jim slammed his door, harder than he intended.

"Don't pull the act on me man, you swore at three grannies on the way here, and you've been wired for a week.  Something's eating at you." Blair swung in front of him, feet firmly planted on the pavement. "Give."

"Will you move out of my way?"  Jim asked, face carefully blank.

Blair shook his head, curls bouncing.  "Not until you tell me."

"Ok, I've been having bad dreams."  Jim stepped around him and headed into the park.

"Bad dreams?  Is that all? Man, you had me worried there for a second."  Blair scurried to catch up.  He paused when he saw the look on Jim's face.  "Jim, man, you gotta ease up on that jaw or you're gonna need some major dental work before you hit forty.  You wanna tell me about them?"

Jim stopped short and turned to face him.  "They start off pretty normal.  I'm walking with -" he paused " - with a friend, and then there's this shot, and my friend gets hurt."

"A friend."  Blair pursed his lips. "Me?"

"Yeah, Sandburg.  You are the man of my dreams."  Jim started walking again.

"Oh that's *real* funny Jim."  Blair ran to catch up with the older man as he entered the park.
 

"Maybe it's another heightened sense?  Like the others."  Blair waved away the offer of ketchup.

"I don't know, Chief."  said Jim, slathering his hotdog with mustard "I mean, accelerated senses is one thing, but  psychic dreams?  I dunno.  It's too weird."

"Like your exactly normal.  Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that." Blair apologised.  "I mean it could be a sixth sense, warning the tribe of impending danger.  This is incredible. I'll have to check it up when we get back home."

"Look, can we just enjoy a day off before you start dragging me through more tests?" asked Jim irritably.

"Yeah," Blair looked abashed. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry.  You're right, I'm wired.  I didn't mean to take it out on you."  Jim let out an explosive breath. "Let's just take some time out, catch some sun,  ok?"

"Ok"

They walked for a moment, losing themselves in the flow of people walking dogs, lovers holding hands.  The whole park was alive with activity.  Jim paused to give a stray mutt a pat on the head and a piece of his hotdog.

Blair waited for him, an amused grin on his face.

"What?"

"You, man. You always stop to feed the strays.  I swear, it's like Pavlov's experiment.  Every time they see you coming, they start salivating.  They know you're easy for it."

"Funny, Chief."  Jim cuffed him lightly across the back of the head.  They wandered over to the edge of the marina and stood there for a moment, looking out over the water, just relaxing.

Jim shivered suddenly as a sense of deja vu gripped him.

"Jim?  You ok?"  He turned to meet the wide blue eyes of his Guide.

*This is how it happens...*

Jim heard a zinging through the air and he reacted out of instinct, pushing Blair to the side as something whispered past his cheek. He heard his partner grunt as they hit the ground.

"Chief?  Are you all right?"

Blair's eyes fluttered open, then widened in pain.  "Shit.  Jim I.."

"Shh. don't try to talk."  Jim cursed under his breath.  There was a gash running along the side of Blair's head, just above the temple, trickling blood onto the pavement.

oh god oh god oh god. He tore a strip from his shirt, holding it to the wound.  The overwhelming smell of b lood tore at his nose.  "Stay with me Chief, ok?"

"Jim, man, I'm sorry...." Blair's head rolled limply to one side.

"Blair!" oh god this isn't happening don't let him die...

Jim grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and shook him "*Blair!*"

No reply.

oh god tell me this isn't happening, tell me i'll wake up please

"Dammit Sandburg, don't you die on me!"

"Is he all right?  God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - "

Jim turned and savagely gripped the man by the throat, shoving him up against a tree.  "Don't you touch him."  he snarled.  "Don't you come anywhere *near* him"

"Look, I'm sorry.  God I'm sorry, I was just jerking around with the slingshot, I didn't mean to hurt anyone."  The man, no the *kid* - he couldn't have been older than twenty - was babbling in fright.  He opened his hands and a handful of ballbearings spilled out onto the pavement. "Look, I won't do it again, I swear, just let me go, I can't *breathe,* man."

Jim tightened his grip fractionally.  "You just killed my best friend.  Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"K-kill me?!"  The kid was pissing his pants in fear, the acrid smell of ammonia stinging Jim's nose.  "You can't kill me! I didn't mean it, I swear, I'll never do it again.  Please!"

Jim's only response was a low growl.

"Jim" A weak voice from the ground caught his attention.

Jim eased his grip slightly "Chief?"

"Yeah, Jim let him go, ok?  Just let him go, man, he didn't mean anything."

"No. You're dead."  Jim replied mechanically.

"No I'm not, I'm fine."  Blair tried to stand, then promptly sat down again as his legs folded beneath him.  "Ok," he sighed "I'm not fine.  But I'm alive.  Jim, I'm here, I'm alive. Let him go."

Jim finally let go and turned.  Blair was sitting on the pavement, pale, but very much alive.  He immediately dropped by his partner's side.  "Blair?"

"Yeah man, I just got a major headache. What happened?"

"That little smartass - " He shot the kid, who was trying to make good his escape, a steel blue glare.  He froze immediately   "Shot you with a ballbearing."

"A *ballbearing?*  Man, this is going to be huge on my humiliation list when the guys find out." Blair surveyed his friend anxiously.  "Are *you* alright?"

Jim was shaking as the adrenalin faded out of his system.  "Blair..." he whispered, voice catching.  "I though he...I thought he'd killed you.  Just like in my dream."

"Oh god, Jim..." Blair held out his arms.

Jim leaned into the hug, letting Blair's breathing, his heartbeat wash over him in comforting waves.  "I thought I'd lost you."  he said quietly, on the verge of tears.

"Shh, it's ok Jim, I'm here, I'm alive.  Feel my heart Jim.  It's still beating.  Shh. It's ok." he wrapped his arms tighter around his friend.  Letting him know he was there.

After a moment, Blair pulled away.  "You ok now, Jim?"

"Yeah."

"Good. 'cos I think I'm gonna puke."
 

Blair was fussing over his shirt. "Look at this.  Do you know how long you have to soak before blood comes out?"

Jim clapped him on the shoulder, then gripped it tightly, luxuriating in the feel of the warm flesh underneath. "Don't worry about it.  I'll buy you a new one."

Blair put his hand over Jim's and smiled quietly up at him. "Thanks man, all these hospital stays are trashing my account."  He staggered suddenly and Jim steadied him.  "Whoa.  I think all those drugs they gave me are messing with my stability."

Jim supported him against his side for a moment, then scooped him up into his arms.  "Come on Chief, bed for you."

"I *can* walk Jim, you don't have to carry me."

"Uh huh," Jim pushed the door to Blair's room open with his foot.  "Just humour an old man will you?"

"Old?  You, Jim Ellison, are actually admitting your age?" Blair said gleefully.

"Lap it up Chief, it ain't gonna last." Jim laid his partner on the bed.   Pulled off his sneakers.  Covered him with a blanket.  "Are you gonna be all right?" he asked, stroking a hand gently across his partner's face, just below the bandage.

"Yeah..." Blair snuggled under the cover, eyes closing.  "Thanks."

Jim sat there for a moment, eyes closed, listening to his partner's heart.

Beating steadily.

He smiled.
 

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010