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by
"Excuse me? I'm looking for Doctor Sandburg."
I look up at from my desk where I've been grading papers. "I'm Blair Sandburg." I stand up and step around my desk.
The woman is looking around my office and I find myself having an odd reaction to her. Though I'm not really certain why. I have plenty of people coming into my office, especially since I became a regular professor, even though I only work here part time.
I think a lot of the students find it easier to talk to me than some of the other professors. Probably due to my age. In any case, having people I don't know coming into my office is not unusual. Still, there is something about this particular woman which is setting off warning bells.
She turns to face me and smiles. "I was told you could help me."
"Help you?" I ask stepping closer. "What exactly is the problem?" I pause, assessing her more closely. "Are you a student here?"
The woman shakes her head, her blond hair falling around her face. "Oh no. I'm an artist."
An artist? What kind of help could I possibly offer her? I take another look at her. She doesn't strike me as an anthropology student. Although to be fair, my students range widely.
She's blonde with blue eyes. She's incredibly beautiful. If I was looking, I might actually think about asking her out. But there is still something about her that's. off somehow.
"How can help you?" I ask her carefully.
"I've been getting these headaches. I was told you might be able to help."
"Headaches?" I crinkle my brow at her. Technically I am a doctor, but not the type that one would go to for headaches, or any other physical ailment.
"Yes. I was told you specialize in. enhanced senses."
I freeze and narrowed my eyes slightly. My work isn't exactly a secret, but I still become suspicious when someone shows an interest. Especially when that someone has no known connection to the University, or Anthropology.
"Enhanced senses?" I ask her cautiously.
"Yes."
"Which ones?"
"Sight, sound, taste, touch, smell." She is staring at me now, searching, although I'm not sure what for.
"All five of them? That's highly unusual." I walk back towards my desk and pull out a notebook.
"You say you've been getting headaches? Is that when you use your senses?" I start making some notes as she begins to speak.
"Yes. Anytime I use them, I get these awful headaches." The woman sits down in the empty chair opposite my desk. "Do you think you can help?"
I look up from my writing and stare at her for a moment. "Maybe. We'll need to do some tests."
She nods at me and I smile.
"What's you're name?"
"Alex. Alex Barnes."
****
I'm going insane.
It's not the first time I've felt that way, nor will it be the last, I'm sure. But it is the first time when I've been really afraid. Really and truly afraid. And I am alone.
My Guide no longer lives with me, or works with me. I know he would come and help me if I asked. But I can't ask. I just can't do that. I think I'm more afraid of what will happen if I ask for his help than I am of what will happen if I don't.
I had a dream last night. It was one of those vision-dreams I get sometimes. I really hate them because they are always trying to tell me something but I can never figure out what it is. This time I was in the jungle, hunting. And there was a wolf and as it ran through the foliage, I followed. That isn't strange in itself. Except that I had this weird disconnected feeling.
I pulled out an arrow and threaded it through the bow. I didn't really *want* to do this, but I couldn't seem to control myself enough to stop.
Then the wolf stopped and turned around, it's blue eyes staring at me, and I swear, I recognized something in those eyes, but before I could identify it, I shot the arrow at the animal.
I didn't mean to, but again, I seemed to have no control.
And to make matters worse, the wolf fell to the ground, dying. And as it did so, it shifted into a person. Into Blair.
I killed Blair. I couldn't believe it. I know it's just a dream. But what if it's not? What if it's trying to tell me something?
And I don't know what to do. I don't know whether I should go to him, ask for his help, demand that he help me, tell me what it is that's driving me crazy *this* time. Or if I should go back home, rearrange the furniture some more. Or maybe I should just go back to the station, do my job and pretend that nothing is wrong.
But before I can even make any sort of decision about which thing I will do, something happens. At first I'm not even entirely certain what it is. It isn't really something I can attribute to one specific sense. It's almost like a warning, just at the edge of my senses. Something telling me there's danger near by.
And considering I'm standing just outside of Hargrove hall, near that fountain that all the students seem to think is the perfect place to make out, I start to move.
Because I'm at the University, and if there is trouble here, I have no doubt that it will somehow find my Guide.
I enter the building and make my way towards his office. I can't hear his heartbeat and that concerns me so I speed up at little, not really caring if I run some poor student down in the process.
Just as I approach the office door, I get that feeling again. The prickling one, going down my spine, alerting me to *something*. I hear a growl nearby but I *know* even without looking that it is not the sound made by my own spirit guide. This one is foreign, and dangerous.
I look through the window and see a spotted jaguar on the other side. It growls at me and leaps across the desk. For a minute I am frozen, and can't seem to get a handle on anything.
When I blink and look back to the room, the jaguar is gone, but not the feeling of danger. There's a woman standing there. Blonde, and she seems almost as disoriented as I am.
Before I can even open my mouth and speak she is moving towards me. She opens the office door and pushes past me. The moment we touch, I can feel the dangerous feeling I have ignite and a growl erupts from my throat. I don't even know if I actually made a sound or not, and by the time I have myself under control, the woman is gone.
"Jim?"
The voice startles me and I turn around swiftly, ready to attack. It isn't until I see the concern in those blue eyes and hear the sound of his familiar heartbeat that I start to calm down.
"What's going on?" Blair asks me as he steps into his office and looks around.
****
I continue to look around the office, trying to find what it is that has spooked Jim. And he is spooked. I can tell by the look on his face. I take a step closer to him and he backs away.
I stop, wondering what's wrong. Despite our recent estrangement, he's never seemed afraid, either of me, or for me. And right now, he's afraid, but I'm not sure why.
"Jim?" I ask quietly, my voice soothing. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
Jim looks into my office as if he's never seen it before and I can see his nostrils working, and I'm wondering what it is he smells. It's right then that I remember where I went, and who was in my office when I left.
All at once it hits me and I take a deep breath, trying to weave my mind against all the possible reasons for Jim's reaction.
"Jim?" I ask again, but he doesn't seem to hear me. "Jim?" I take a cautious step towards him and either he doesn't notice or he doesn't mind because this time he doesn't move.
"Jim, why don't you come inside? We can talk about this."
Jim looks at me then, and his eyes are sort of glazed, but I can see them clearing up. He stares at me silently for a second and then takes a deep breath and I can tell he's sniffing again.
"It was Alex, wasn't it?" I ask him as he closes his eyes, taking in all the smells around him.
His eyes snap open and he stares at me for a second before pulling me closer and sniffing me more intimately than ever before. Part of me wants to pull away, for some irrational fear of where this might be going, but another part, the more scientific part, I guess, recognizes it for what it is.
After several long minutes, Jim pulls away. His eyes lock with mine and I become uncomfortable. We really haven't talked about much of anything in the past few weeks. It always seems so awkward.
I'm not sure where we stand in each other's lives in anymore. I don't think he knows any more than I do. We seem to be going on, but it just doesn't feel right. It feels almost as if I'm missing this huge part of myself. A part I'm not sure if I can ever get back.
"Who is she?" Jim asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. "The other Sentinel?"
"Who is she?" I ask again.
Blair sighs and flops into the chair behind his desk. "Her name is Alex Barnes. She says she's an artist." He pauses for a second but I can tell he has something more to say, so I wait. "She says she has all five senses enhanced."
"You don't believe her?" I ask, picking up on what he isn't saying.
Blair stands up and begins walking around the room, moving his hands restlessly. "Oh I believe she's a Sentinel, or at the very least that she has all five senses enhanced."
"There's a difference?" I ask confused.
"Yes." Blair nods. "You are a Sentinel. But it's not just about enhanced senses. It's your life. It is who and what you are. You're a watchman. You protect the tribe. Even if you were an ordinary man, you would still do this. You *did* do this, before your senses came back online."
I think about this for a second. It does make a strange kind of sense. According to Sandburg, Sentinel's have a genetic predisposition, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all people with enhanced senses can be Sentinels. Not everyone would take on the responsibility. Not everyone would want it.
I know I don't always want it. But yet, it *is* who I am. Again, my Guide reminds me of how well he knows me. I miss him. It's moments like this when I am reminded of how well we know each other that it stands out the most.
"What does she want?" I finally ask.
Blair shrugs. "Help. Control. Sanity. Take your pick." He turns away from me and towards the small window in his office. "Maybe she wants a guide."
Something in me snaps at his last words. A Guide. She wants a Guide? She wants *my* Guide.
"No." I growl.
*****
I turn away from the window slowly. When I'm facing Jim, he has this fierce, almost feral look on his face.
"No?" I ask. "No what?"
"She can't have you." The words were growled and the tone made me back up a step.
It took me a second to realize what it was he was talking about.
"No, Jim. "It isn't like that." I step forward, now pretty sure I know what's going on, at least at this moment. I place a hand on his chest, my fingers running over the material in his shirt soothingly. "Really."
"She wants a guide." Jim spoke, this time his voice sounded less sure.
"Maybe." I concede. "But even if she does, this one's taken." I look at him and for the first time in weeks, we looked at each other. I mean really *looked*.
We stand here, staring at one another for a really long time. I'm not sure how much time has passed before Jim speaks again, but when he does I can hear the confusion and uncertainty in his voice. And despite whatever control he may have been showing without me this past month, or whatever primal forces are at work here, he still needs me.
"Is he?" Jim asks and my confusion must show on my face because he rephrases the question. "Are you? Taken?"
I blink. "Jim, despite what's happened to us, I'm still your friend, still your Guide."
"Still my partner?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.
I look away, not wanting to see whatever emotion he sees fit to show. Our split is still an open wound.
"Jim."
"No, Blair. Answer me. Are we friends? Partners? What? Tell me what are we?"
I sigh heavily because I *don't* know the answer to that. "I. I don't know."
"Come home." The words, so softly spoken I have trouble hearing, strike a cord within me.
"I can't." I whisper, and at this moment I'm not even sure why it is I can' t, I just know it isn't something I can do at that second.
Jim runs a hand through his thinning hair and takes a step back. "Chief. Blair." He trails off and turns away from me. I can see the tension in the muscles under his clothes and I want so badly to sooth away those lines of strain but I just *can't*.
"What, Jim?" I ask quietly and as calmly as I can muster although I am aware we are at some sort of crossroads here.
"Come to dinner." He finally says, after moments of silence, his back still to me. "We need to talk."
"About what?" I can't stop myself from asking although I'm not entirely certain I want to hear the answer.
"About nothing. Everything. Us. This Barnes woman. You choose. But we need to talk."
I can almost hear the tremors in his voice as he speaks and I know how difficult it is for him to say these things, to be willing to discuss them, finally. I can't bear to refuse him.
"Okay." I tell him quietly. "Let me finish up here and I'll meet you at the loft in a couple of hours."
Jim turns to face me then, and most people would probably describe his face as expressionless, but I'm not most people and I see the lines of hope there. I'm, not sure what it is he is hoping for, but maybe I can give it to him. And if not, maybe we can at least be better off than we are now.
*****
Something strange is going on. And I don't mean the usual Ellison stran geness, although there is certainly that. But he seems to be loosing his marbles. He threw a fit in the bullpen today, right there in front of everyone. Complaining about people touching his stuff.
Maybe it's me, but I swear he was accusing me of taking something that was his. The weird thing was, I'm not even sure if *he* realized he was doing it. It was down right scary.
When I called the University to tell Sandy about it, he said he'd seen Jim already. He said they were having dinner.
I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that, really. It's not that I don't like Sandy, I do. And Jimbo, when he's not screaming and being a general ass, he's a good guy. But anyone with eyes can see that those two belong together.
I just hope they can get whatever happened between them settled so we can all move on.
Because if I've learned anything since coming here, it's that Major Crimes isn't the same when Jimbo and Sandy are out of sorts. I'm not so sure what it's like when they're *in sorts*, but it's got to be better than this. Right?
****
This feels incredibly awkward. Here I am standing outside of the elevator on the third floor. It's not as if I haven't been here since moving out of the loft. I have. Just not on this floor. I've had no reason to move beyond the second floor. Until now.
But tonight, I do. Tonight, I'm supposed to have dinner with Jim. I'm not sure whether I'm more elated or terrified. This is the first time we've made plans to meet and talk about something that isn't directly work related.
I know that despite whatever's going on with Jim and his senses, despite the appearance of Alex Barnes, this dinner isn't about any of that. This is about him and I. About us trying to get back some of what we've lost.
It isn't the first time he's asked me to come to the loft, but it is the first time I've agreed to come. I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Or maybe it means I'm ready to deal with whatever's between us. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself into believe it means something.
I think maybe I'm using Alex and her arrival here as an excuse to see Jim. As if I didn't have a valid reason to accept his offer before. But now, in case things become too tense, or just don't work out, I can always say that I was just coming to talk about her and why she's here.
Even though, we both know that's a lie.
It doesn't matter who Alex Barnes is, or why she's here. I already have a Sentinel, and I don't need another. I'm not even sure if it's healthy to have two of them in the same zip code, much less fighting over a guide. It sounds dangerous, if you ask me.
Not that anyone did. Ask me that is. But if someone was going to ask, I'd be the person they'd ask. Okay, now my rambles aren't making any sense. Even to me.
The bottom line is, Alex Barnes came looking for me. I'm not sure why, but if she has any delusions about me Guiding her, things could get really ugly. It's not that I automatically think something terrible is going to happen. It's just this *feeling* I have.
Like if I left them to their own devices they'd be battling it out like a couple of primal tribesmen, which, in essence is what they are.
And I am just now realizing that the sooner Jim and I settle whatever is between us the better. Maybe if we hadn't been so separated recently she wouldn't have come to me. Maybe she would have *known* this Guide was taken. Maybe.
I guess I'll never know.
Of course I'm taking a lot on faith here. Maybe she doesn't want a guide, and it's all some strange coincidence.
The problem with that theory is I stopped believing in coincidences shortly after I hooked up with Jim.
****
I know he's out there. I can hear the steady beat of his heart, the even tempo of his breathing. I can't hear much else, which tells me that he isn' t moving. No scrape of his shoes in the hall, or the rustle of his clothes as he moves.
He's probably having second thoughts about this dinner. I was surprised he agreed to come. It isn't the first time I've asked, but it is the first time he's accepted. What does that mean?
Does it mean anything?
I really don't want to hope for too much. We've been separated these past few weeks, by more than the distance of one floor. I know I was wrong to say the things I did, in Clayton Falls.
I knew it was wrong almost as soon as the words left my mouth, but I couldn' t retract them. Not then, and later it was too late. Now I can only show him how wrong I was. How *wrong* this place is without him. How much he's needed.
How much he's loved.
That's the kicker. I'm not sure when I realized it, or when it became apparent that it wasn't a brotherly type of affection. It's the real deal. Accept no substitutes. Even if he never comes back to me. Even if we don't regain the closeness we had, and he never knows how much I love him. Even then, he is all there is. Now and forever.
I can hear him moving away from the elevator now, towards me. I breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn't sure if he would go through with it. The way he just hesitated outside of elevator, I thought he would change his mind. And I wanted to go out, and convince him to come in. But I couldn't do that. He had to make the choice himself.
And he has. I smile to myself as I open the door and let him inside.
"Hey." Blair smiles slightly, but I can see the tension in the lines around his eyes. He looks around the room and sort of takes in a breath. "You redecorated." He comments noticing the sparseness of the room.
"Not really." I tell him. "Not on purpose at any rate. Things were. confining."
"Your senses?" His hand is reaching out to me and the moment he touches my shoulder, the world seems to tilt on its axis. Everything seems to right it self for a moment. But then his hand is withdrawn and everything is tilted again.
"What's going on, man? You gotta talk to me." He's guiding me to the couch, which is pushed against one wall.
There's nothing I can do but follow, and do as he asks. So I do. I tell him about the weird dreams I've been having. About the claustrophobic feeling in the loft, about the on edge feeling everywhere else, how crazy it made me to see people at my desk, touching my things. Almost as if something was going to reach in and take what's mine. It's creepy. This out of control feeling I've been living with. I've had it for a few weeks, but it seems to be getting worse.
As I speak, he keeps nodding his head as if in understanding, and I think that maybe he does understand. He looks at me with those dark blue eyes, piercing me, promising me that we will figure out what's going on. Together.
*****
After awhile, we sit on the floor and start on dinner. The table, like most of the furniture has disappeared, a victim of Jim's 'claustrophobia'. I don't mind. All I've ever wanted is to make things better for Jim. To make him comfortable. If having furniture is making him uncomfortable, who needs it?
We eat in silence, but it's not an uncomfortable silence. It seems almost familiar although we haven't been in this place for far too long. And never on the barely furnished hardwood floors.
Once dinner is done I help him clean up the trash and wash the few dishes we dirtied and this too seems normal.
He disappears into the bathroom and I make my way towards the balcony and just look out over the city, thinking. About what has changed in these past few weeks, and what hasn't.
I'm comfortable here, in the loft, in a way I never was in the second floor apartment, regardless of the fact that I had a bigger room. That doesn't seem to matter as much. It just wasn't home. Because Jim wasn't there. And for me, Jim *is* home.
"Will you stay?" Jim's voice startles me and through the reflection on the glass I can see him standing behind me.
I turn around slowly and look up into his ice blue eyes. "You need me." I whisper quietly. He nods and I take a leap of faith that I'm not sure is warranted, but I can't stop myself. "You love me?" The words are so softly spoken I'm not even sure he can hear me.
"I do." Jim bends down and presses his lips against mine and I can feel the love in the connection. It's like nothing and everything, all at once.
It's like coming home.
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