by Carol Roi
Simon recalled the detective's actions a couple of nights before, when he'd brought Lee Eolia into the station after requesting access to a safe house for the woman. Ellison had been down right solicitous of the security consultant, and Simon thought he'd seen a glimmer of something sparking between the two of them. "Jim, I'm sorry. I don't know the full story, but even a blind man could've seen that you were attracted to Ms. Eolia."
"I'll be fine, Simon." Jim answered as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest.
The body language was loud and clear to the Captain. Jim Ellison wasn't ready to talk about the death of the woman from WindHawk Securities. "I know you will be, Jim. You always are. Next question... What happened to you and Sandburg last night? Why did Connor find him passed out and you zoned so deep she couldn't pull you out?"
Megan hopped into the conversation at this point. "I don't think we'll ever know that, Captain. I mean, there were signs that there had been some sort of electrical discharge at the scene, and Sandy and I have been puzzling over that most of the day." She looked over towards Blair, her eyes begging him to help her out here.
"I think what may have happened, Simon," Blair leapt in with what sounded suspiciously like a planned response, "is that somehow I managed to get caught up in some sort of 'trap' that the man Lee had gone to meet had set up. My nerves still feel a little fried, and if Jim got caught up in the same discharge of energy, it may have caused his zone-out." He shrugged, and then winced as almost an afterthought, like he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be injured. "That's my theory anyway."
"It's the best one that you've come up with today, Chief. Lord knows, my head's still smarting from whatever hit us." To emphasize his point, Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, then got up to go retrieve the medication that he'd been prescribed for the headache.
Simon watched as the detective shook a capsule out of the brown plastic bottle and then swallowed the medicine. Turning back to Megan, he continued his line of questioning. "I stopped by the station on my way here, Connor. There's a report from the Medical Examiner in Seattle waiting for you on your desk, but I took the liberty of looking it over. You may be right on track with the 'assassin' angle that you came up with last night."
Megan didn't bother to hide her surprise. "I am, sir?"
"Yes. It seems that Azir El Sadih, the late husband of Ms. Eolia, was killed in the same manner as she was. And the detectives there in Seattle are of the opinion that there is more than one assassin utilizing that particular MO."
Diandra put her two-cents in. "Really? Isn't that a little odd?"
Simon grinned at the professor. "Yes, it is. But they put together a string of homicides throughout the United States that have the same 'signature' to them and there seems to be a pattern. But the timing is off for it to be only one person behind all of them, so they are working on the theory that there are at least four, maybe five, people loose in the country that are working together."
The anthropologist seemed disturbed by this news, and finally spoke up. "That cannot be possible, Simon. I mean, I only took a few classes in abnormal psychology, but the idea that so many people would use the same exact modus operandi, have the same 'signature' to their crimes, is a little far-fetched. Don't you think?"
Thinking back to his classes at the FBI's National Academy, the ones that had been taught by members of the old Behavioral Science Unit, Simon had to agree with the anthropology student. "That's my opinion as well, Sandburg. But you have to understand Seattle PD's point of view. They have an unsolved decapitation murder, one that seems to match up with several other open files in other jurisdictions and they're grasping at anything that might lead to the killer, or killers." He finished off his beer, swallowing the last few sips in one gulp, and stood up. "Okay, I think I've heard enough for now. I'll want to see your statements on my desk first thing Monday morning, and your reports as well, Connor." After depositing his bottle in the trash, he grabbed up his coat. "Oh, and Jim? I hate to do this to you, but until Doctor Douglas clears you for duty, you're officially on medical leave."
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Blair walked Simon to the door, and leaned his back against it after he'd closed it behind the police captain. "That was so much fun--not." He gazed at the three people still seated at the table. "Do you think he believed it?"
Pushing back his chair, Jim got to his feet. "Nope. Not a word of it."
Dee swore softly. "Damn it. Guess I'd better make sure my other identities are up to date."
Blair felt everything turn upside down again. "That doesn't mean Simon's going to come after you, Dee. He might just want this to quietly fade away, like we do. Arresting you isn't going to do that. And Eolia's people aren't going to want this all dragged out in the open, either. I mean, Jan-Michel has as much to hide as you do." He crossed the room to lay a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay, I promise."
Dee reached up and gave his fingers a squeeze. "I'm sure it will be, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared. So, anyone else starving?"
Megan spoke up. "I'd better eat something, or I'm going to be too wasted to go in to work tomorrow. Got anything in the fridge, Jim?"
Opening the door of the appliance, Jim took a look inside. "Not much here. A couple frozen pizzas."
"That'll have to do," Dee said. "My refrigerator is full of our uncooked Christmas dinner. Somehow I just couldn't make myself get up at 6 am and start cooking after what we went through last night." She slapped her hand down on the table. "The airline reservations!"
"What?" The word was out of his mouth before Blair realized she was talking about their vacation plans. They were supposed to leave tomorrow. "You'll have to cancel them."
Dee chewed her lip, her brow furrowed in thought. "I hate to do that. Maybe I can just change them to Sunday." Getting up from the table, she headed for the door. "I'll be back in a little while."
Once the Immortal was gone, Blair walked out to the kitchen and turned on the stove, then took one of the pizzas from Jim and began to tear the plastic wrap off. Megan picked up her cup of eggnog and followed him. "Do you really think you should be going away at a time like this?"
Blair glanced up at her, noticing Jim was looking at him, too. "I don't know. I mean, well, Simon didn't say we couldn't go. But I don't want to leave you here by yourself, Jim."
Jim let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm fine, Chief. Go to Hawaii. I know you've been looking forward to it for weeks now, and you deserve it."
"But, Lee--"
"Sandburg, I knew the woman for less than a week." He waved his hand to ward off protests from both Megan and Blair. "Yes, I liked her, yes, we slept together, but one night does not a relationship make. I will be fine. You are going to Hawaii, got it?"
"Got it." Blair stuck the pizzas in the oven. "Now what side dishes go with a Christmas pizza?"
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Sighing, Jim checked the lock on the front door and turned out the lights. Thank god today was over. If he'd had to put up with one more minute of everyone tiptoeing around everyone else's feelings...Sandburg had been right. This Christmas sucked.
Padding down the hall into the bathroom, Jim washed up and brushed his teeth. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, he paused, mid-brush, to examine the face that stared back at him. A furrow seemed permanently engraved on his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. He hadn't bothered to shave, and over a day's worth of stubble graced his chin. For once, he actually looked as bad as he felt. He finished with the toothbrush, swallowed a couple of pain pills, and headed up to bed.
Undressing, he crawled beneath the covers, then stared at the ceiling. Normally, on a night like this, when everything had gone wrong with his day, and he was tired and cranky, he would listen to the sound of his guide sleeping peacefully below him, and know all would be right with the
world. But Blair was across the hallway, giving comfort to the person who really had a right to grieve over Lee's death.
Jim ran a hand over his face. Two thousand years. Diandra had known Lee, or Eolia as she had been called then, for over two thousand years. And yet, he gathered Dee felt she hadn't known the woman at all. Maybe that had been part of the attraction for him, the fact that Lee was a mystery. Even the things she revealed had hidden more secrets.
Punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape, Jim rolled onto his side. Still, her loss hurt. Not so much for the little time they'd had together, but for the promise of what could have been. Life with Lee Eolia would never have been boring. But it would have been a different life than he had dreamed of the day before, when he hadn't known she was immortal. She would have remained forever young and beautiful, as he grew steadily older. There would have been no chance of a family, something Jim had to admit a part of him longed for. And there would have been the fear, lurking in the shadows, coloring every facet of their lives, that today he would lose her. Lee would walk out the door one morning and never return, and he would only learn of the details much later, in a summary of a Watcher's report he would wheedle out of Blair.
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. How did Blair stand it? How could he live with that fear, live with the thought that people wanted to kill the woman he loved, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it? He didn't think he could handle it; the constant fear would drive him insane. Jim realized, not for the first time, that Blair was a hell of a lot stronger than he appeared on the surface.
The pain pills began to take effect, and Jim drifted off to sleep, his mind replaying the happy moments from his far too brief relationship with Lee Eolia.
Despite the sack of gifts in his hand, Blair held the door to Cascade Police Headquarters open for Diandra and Jan-Michel, then followed them inside.
"You didn't have to come with us, Lobo," Dee said, as she headed down the hallway.
He gave her a grin. "I know, but I had these presents for everyone up in Major Crimes to drop off, and well, I thought you could use the support."
Leaning toward him, Dee gave Blair a squeeze. "Thanks. I don't think this will take too long. J-M just has to fill out the paperwork, and then it's off to Seacouver." Blair noticed she didn't mention what they would be off to Seacouver with.
"You need me to show you where the morgue is?"
LaFollet shook his head. "No, I was there yesterday. I think I can find the way again."
"Good, because I hate going down there. I'll be upstairs when you're ready to leave, Dee." She gave him a peck on the cheek, then followed the other Immortal toward the stairs.
Blair punched the up button for the elevator, and stepped inside the car as the doors slid open. He glanced down at the gaily-wrapped packages peeking out of his sack. Maybe passing these out would help get back some of his holiday spirit.
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"Sandburg!" Jim's voice boomed through the bullpen.
Blair, perched at the edge of Brown's desk, stopped his conversation with the detective and looked up. "Hey, J--" His greeting faded when he saw the unrestrained rage on the Sentinel's face.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" In three long strides, Jim closed the difference between them, pulling his arm back as he delivered a powerful blow to Blair's jaw.
Blair tumbled off the desk, hitting the floor hard, feeling the air rush from his lungs. His eyes wide, he tried desperately to inhale as Jim leaned over him, his hands tangling in his shirt and yanking the smaller man part way up. "YOU KNEW! You knew all along what she was!"
"Jim, man, let me explain--" Jim's grip on his shirt tightened, and Blair felt his already meager supply of oxygen being cut off. Spots danced in front of his eyes, and he floated toward darkness.
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Jim had managed to avoid the rest of the group for most of the morning. Jim Ellison, coward? No, not really, just not ready to face the world that had introduced him to someone he had found totally fascinating, only to rudely cut her out of his life. His mind had played tricks on him all night; his sense of smell picking up the faintest trace of lavender and heather and magnifying it, the sensual sliding of silk on his skin reminding him how Lee's hair had felt. Torture, pure and simple torture.
Having been ordered not to return to work until Dr. Douglas gave his okay, Jim was looking forward to just trying to get back into the swing of his old life. Before the break-in at QuestScape, before meeting Lee Eolia, before, before... 'Damn, it's no use,' he thought to himself. He'd spent the morning doing the fifty-two pick-up routine, straightening up the loft, getting started on the weekly chores, and the entire time his mind kept wandering back to Eolia and what might have been.
Throwing the rag he'd been using for dusting into the trashcan, he realized that staying here, in the loft, alone, wasn't a good idea. Spotting the stack of case files on the table, he made his decision. He'd get cleaned up, change clothes and take the records back to the station. Loping up the stairs to his room, he put his plan into motion.
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Jim grumbled as he picked the files up off the floorboard of his truck. He'd laid the files on the bench seat when he'd left, but having to cut the wheel sharply to avoid getting hit by an idiot driver just outside of the station had scattered the files everywhere. Giving up on trying to get the files, and the scattered papers, into any semblance of order in the cold garage, he just scooped them all together with the idea that he'd straighten them out in the Records Room.
Juggling the slippery files, he made his way towards the Records Department on the second floor. A civilian clerk was just leaving as he approached, and the young man held the door open for him. "Thanks, Todd."
"No problem, Detective. Happy holidays."
'Yeah, right. Happy,' he thought as he let the files fall onto a desk that wasn't being used.
"Jim Ellison, what mess did you bring me today?"
Turning to face the speaker, Jim saw it was Gwendolyne "Gwen" Hadley, the woman in charge of Records. "Mess is right, Gwennie. I'll straighten them out before I hand them in. They slid off the seat of my truck."
The tall, willowy blonde sighed as she looked at the mess on the desk. "Funny, I didn't hear any radio traffic involving an 'Ellison Pursuit'."
Snorting a laugh, Jim shook his head. "Not a pursuit, just avoiding an idiot." He pulled the chair out and started trying to sort the files.
"Uh, huh. Sure, tell me another one, Ellison. I know you, remember?" She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder as she walked behind him to get to the door. "I'm going over to the coffee shop. Can I get you anything?"
"Nah, I'm okay. Thanks, Gwen." He waited until she had left before returning his attention to his work.
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Tucking the last photo of Bradley Ventriss on the autopsy table into its original jacket, Jim noticed a handwritten report peeking out from under the latest QuestScape file. "What the--?" Pulling it free, recognizing the neat printing as his roommate's, he read the paper.
Disbelief and anger clouded his mind as he realized the report concerned Blair's first meeting with Lee Eolia, last Thursday at Rainier. That was a full day before the QuestScape break-in. What in the hell? He read further, a knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. Blair, along with Dee, had a subsequent meeting Friday with Lee, at a church. Lee had come to Cascade with the intent of not leaving the city alive, according to Sandburg's report. She'd even asked Diandra to take her head. That she was, and this was quoted in the report as being direct from Lee's own mouth, "... so tired. I just want it to be over, I don't want to live without him, and it's too painful. He was the only person who ever understood me, who ever loved me for me...
"
The anger at Sandburg started building from a small spark into a raging firestorm. 'He KNEW! He fucking knew, last Thursday for God's sake, that Lee Eolia was an Immortal! He LIED to me! He stood there and boldly lied to me, to Megan!' Mechanically folding the report, he shoved it into his jacket pocket; it didn't belong in the police files, but in Eolia's chronicle.
Shuffling through the rest of the files, checking to make sure that more "Watcher" stuff hadn't gotten mixed in with the QuestScape files, he came across printouts of email correspondence between Sandburg and Jack Kelso. They related the career paths of one Leandra Evans and an Emil Saunders, including photographs. "Leandra Evans" was Lee Eolia-Sadih. The stuff on Lee's work with the CIA didn't bother him because the woman herself had told him about that. But the idea that Blair had lied, had covered his tracks and kept what could have been vital information hidden from him and Megan, that enraged Jim. The growl built in his throat as he started tearing through the papers to see what else Blair had held back from him, and the investigation. As he found more reports and pulled them from the files, keeping the secrets of Immortals from entering police records, Jim Ellison was actually vibrating with his anger.