Blair practically ran all the way to Major Crimes. If there had been a way to run on an elevator, he would have. As it was, he simply paced around the tight confines nervously. Jim diplomatically kept quiet, staying out of his way.

When the door swung open, Blair ran out to the office, ignoring any greetings his few friends unfortunate enough to be working might have given him, and going right into Simon's ofice without knocking. "Well? What's going on?"

Simon looked up in surprise, glancing at his clock. Damn, they'd gotten there fast. The kid must be-

"Simon, come on!"

"Uh, sorry." Simon stood up as Jim came in more slowly. "Look, this is kind of a strange situation. I don't exactly know how much I have a right to tell you."

"Simon!"

"Alright, alright. Apparently Angela Mallory came strolling in about half an hour ago to report a crime."

"What crime? Where is she? Did she witness a murder or something?"

Jim put a hand on the observer's shoulder lightly. "Calm down, Blair, let the man talk."

Simon gave him a quick look of thanks, then turned back to Blair. "She was attacked. She didn't give the front desk the entire story, but I think the general scenario was- she was going into her apartment, and she must have been followed by some guys from the street. They cronered her in a stairwell and forced her to take them into her apartment."

"Oh, man," Blair breathed slowly. "Is she...no, I have to see her. Where is she?"

"Down on the first floor giving a statement. You'll have to wait until she-"

"No! I've got to make sure she's alright," Blair left the office in a rush, going to the elevator and pushing the button to the lower floors impatiently. He only waited for a split second before turning and racing to the stairs.

Jim and Simon came out slowly, watching him run off before Jim turned to Simon. "You know something else, don't you?"

"How can you..." Simon stopped. Jim could hear his heartbeat, could probably sense how worried he was. No need to ask a dumb question. "Yeah. She was hurt."

"Hurt? You said she walked in on her own," The two men went to the elevator as the doors opened in response to Blair's push.

"How close is Blair to this woman?" Simon asked after a moment, not answering Jim's question. "I mean, Lord knows the kid would drive himself nuts even if this happened to some kid in one of his classes or something."

"Pretty close. If what happened, Simon?"

Banks let out a sigh. "She was raped, Jim. A couple of times. That's all I know."

"Damn," Jim said in response, his mind going back to the night before, to watching her across the table at the restaurant. "Damn," he said again for good measure.

"Yeah. We've got a couple of officers going down to her apartmnt to check the scene, but she seems to be uncooperative about how much she'll let us do.

"But she came hee herself?"

Simon nodded. "Which is good, don't get me wrong. But she doesn't want us examining her too closely, she doesn't want a whole forensics team at her apartment looking for evidence." He shrugged. "Of course, this is all second-hand info. Maybe Blair can talk some sense into her."

"Is she alright, though?"

"I really don't know. Apparently she hasn't gone to the hospital. She came directly here."

"No," Jim frowned after a minute. "She only came in a half hour ago. She called and left that message this afternoon."

"So? Jim, think about it. You think she's going to wait until her attackers leave, get right up off the floor and take a drive?"

Jim thought about it for a moment, trying to put together the little he knew about Blair's friend. Blair...oh, shit. His Guide was not going to take this well. "Damn," he decided to remark a third time.

When the elevator opened, it revealed Blair's wide-eyed face. "Simon, they won't tell me what's going on. Talk to this guy," he gestured back at the officer behind the desk.

"Blake," Simon nodded a greeting as he moved past the nervous anthropologist over to the desk.

"Hey, Simon. Look, I can't let anybody interrupt. Sheila's taking the woman's statement, and she wouldn't hesitate to report me."

"Problems at home?" Simon asked with a grin.

Blake grimaced. "At home we're fine. Here...." He shrugged. "Anyway, what's all the fuss about, anyway?"

Simon gestured over at Blair, who was being held in place and calmed by Jim. "She's Sandburg's girlfriend."

"Really? Aww, man, I'm sorry to hear that," Blake frowned. "Look, if he can promise me she wouldn't object, I can let you in the observation area. He can listen in, but that's it. And if Sheila finds out..."

Simon smiled slightly. "She won't. Thanks, Blake. Which room?"

Blake gave him the number and returned to the front with a sigh as a hooker in a rather revealing elf costume was dragged in by a uniformed officer.

Simon went to Jim. "You heard?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, let's go. Chief, are you sure you want to do this?"

Blair shrugged. "I just want to know what happened. She'd tell me herself, I know she would."

"Alright," Simon and Jim exchanged dark looks as they headed over to the observation room.

When Blair stepped inside, he immediately drew in a breath. "Oh, man." he said shakily, looking directly across the glass wall at Angela. She was looking at the glass, her reflection as far as she could see, obviously upset. At the table sat a female officer in uniform, with a recorder on the table in front of her.

"Can you continue?" The voice of the officer came filtered through the speaker in the corner of the observation room.

Angela nodded slowly. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Miss Mallory, you have nothing to apologize for. You've done everything right. We don't have to rush this."

Angela reached up and brushed a short lock of hair out of her face. Blair could see her hands trembling, and the gesture revealed the blackened eye and dark bruise on her chin.

"She doesn't look too bad," he said quietly, hopefully, glancing over at Jim.

The Sentinel stood beside his friend, not sure how much he should say. "I think it's worse than it looks, Blair," he decided on finally.

"I'm ready. Where was I?" Angela turned back to the officer as Jim spoke.

"The men were in your apartment, and the first one had just knocked you on the ground."

Angela drew in a slow breath. "Okay. Um, next thing I know the guy's right on top of me, in my face, you know? And he says something like, 'You shouldn't be alone on the holidays, girly. It isn't safe.' And I tried to get him off me, but I couldn't move my legs. I think one of the other guys must have been holding me down, but I don't know."

Blair, pale, watched as she sat herself down heavily, not quite looking at the officer. "Anyway, the guy hits me again," Her hand went absently up to her jaw. "And I think I might have blacked out or something. I'm not sure, it's the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. But next thing I remember is...the guy, the blonde, not the one who hit me, was tearing..um, tearing my shirt open. And I think I asked him what he was doing, cause he says he's getting ready to take what no other man would ever want." Her voice caught and she took a few deep, quiet breaths, her eyes glued to the tabletop.

"No," Blair turned to Jim. "No, they couldn't have....I mean, they didn't...did they?"

Jim nodded slowly.

Blair turned back, his eyes filled with a sudden horror. He raised a hand and put it on the glass seperating him from her, and didn't say a word.

"Is that when the actual rape began?" The officer asked, her voice rather clinical.

Angela's head came up finally and looked at her. "Um....yeah. First the blonde, then the first guy, and that was it. They left."

Jim's eyes narrowed. She was lying, her heart was going a mile a minute. But what was she lying about? With a dead certainty, he knew she wasn't telling everything that had happened to her. And he couldn't blame her, not at all.

"Is there anything else you can remember that might help? Did you overhear anyone give a name?"

"No. No, I told you everything. You have their descriptions. You can find them, right?"

"We'll try, Miss Mallory."

She blinked. "You'll try?" she repeated, her voice low. "They know where I live. They could come back...they could be there waiting for me, they..." She struggled to contain herself.

"It was on your request that we're keeping our investigation to a minimum. If you would allow us to examine you and the crime scene more thoroughly-"

"No," Angela shook her head, hard.

"This is wrong," Blair said suddenly. "We shouldn't be listening to this. Let's get out of here, Jim."

Ellison nodded into the room, where the officer was reaching out to turn off the recorder. "It's over, Blair. We missed the worst of it, don't worry."

"Miss Mallory, I want you to know you did the right thing coming here. Most victims of sexual assault never come forward. These men may have attacked women before. Thanks to you, we'll find them."

"Yeah. Great," She spoke quietly. "Is that it? Can I go home now?"

"Actually, we'll give you a ride over to the hospital. I think you should be checked out by proffessionals."

"No! No way. I came here, that's it. I did my duty for society, right?"

"Miss Mallory, I've dealt with rape cases before. There are medical problems that should be addressed."

"Look, I went through someone poking at me already. I let you get all your physical evidence. I'm not hurt, don't you think I'd know if I was? Just let me go home."

"Miss Mallory, are you positive for any sexually transmitted diseases?" the woman asked bluntly.

Angela froze, her anger abating slightly as horror filled her eyes. "No," she said quietly. "No, I was...I was a virgin."

Blair breathed in slightly.

"You'll have to be tested. There's no telling what these men could have given you."

But she still shook her head. "No. Forget it. You can't force me to go, I did everything I'm supposed to. I came here and told a bunch of strangers what happened, I'm not going to do the same thing in a damn hospital." She paused. "I'll get tested at a clinic maybe, some other day."

"You can do that if you want," the officer said with a sigh. "You're right, we can't force you to do anything. But if you want my advice-"

"I don't." Angela cut her off forcefully.

The woman nodded slowly. "Alright. We don't usually like attack victims to leave by themselves. Is there someone you can call, a friend who could pick you up?"

Angela was quiet for a minute.

"Come on, Angie." Blair said suddenly, even realizing if she did try to call he wouldn't be there.

She shook her head finally. "No. I'll be fine. I was fine driving here, I'll be fine going...home."

Blair stiffened, a confused look in his eyes as the officer finished with Angela and the two women left the room.

Jim immediately turned for the door, but stopped when he saw Blair wasn't moving. "Blair?"

"Why wouldn't she call me?" Sandburg asked, his voice low.

Jim went to the side of his best friend. "I don't know, Chief. She probably doesn't want anyone to know." He'd be the same way, if anything like that had happened to him. No way would he call someone he shared any sort of meaningful relationship with. Too awkward by far. "Let's get out of here, Sandburg."

Blair turned his eyes to his partner. "I can't believe this, Jim. It's like some kind of nightmare. Who would do this? On Christmas? Angie's the nicest...who would do that to her?"

Jim reached out and laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "I don't know," he said again, wishing he had more answers, anything that could help his sensitive friend. "But we'll find them, whoever they are."

"Damned right we will." Blair spoke firmly, but his voice was still quiet, shocked.

"Come on. You want to cath her before she leaves, right?"

"She doesn't want to see me," Blair replied, no hurt in his voice, only concern.

"Maybe not, but she needs to. Don't let her go back to that apartment alone." Jim waited until Blair met his eyes. "Come on."

The two men left together, Blair looking more determined with every step he took. Maybe she did want to hide this, but that wasn't healthy, not at all. He would be there for her, even if she didn't want him there.

They caught up with her on the street outside, opening the door of her car.

"Angie?"

She froze, a horrified expression on her face that she quickly hid. Pasting a brilliant smile to her face, she shut the door and went around to them. "Blair! What are you doing here? Aren't you on vacation today?"

Jim, standing a few steps back, studied the girl. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn she was exactly what she portrayed- happy, carefree, glad to see them. Her smile was casual, her voice held just the right amount of happy surprise. But he did know better- her heart was still pounding in her chest, and he could detect the stiffness in her voice and in her walk as she approached them. Blair was right, he reflected. She was really a damn good actress.

Blair didn't bother trying to match her forced casualness. "Angie, what's going on?"

"Whaddaya mean?" Angela's mask cracked a little under Blair's expression.

He was hurt, confused, shocked.... "You weren't even going to tell me something was wrong," he said quietly.

And now the smile vanished. "What are you talking about, Blair?" Her eyes went nervously to Jim, then back to the younger man.

"I'm talking about....that message you left on our machine...look at your face. Something bad happened, why won't you tell me what?"

Jim watched her reaction. Her eyes grew wide, her heart beat that much faster. She'd obviously forgotten about her frantic call to the loft earlier that day.

"Blair, please," She turned her eyes back to her car. "It's not a big deal,"

Blair opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes went suddenly over to Jim. He met the older man's eyes, trying to communicate silently.

Jim nodded slightly and left the two alone, going over to where he'd parked their truck, in a handicapped spot right at the front of the building. Maybe if he was with the truck they wouldn't get a ticket.

But as he stood there, his curiosity got the better of him. He absently turned up the dial on his hearing, telling himself that if they started talking about anything too private, he'd turn it back down.

"-a few marks on my face. That's it."

"Angie, come on. You sounded terrified on that message- you were that scared after some neighbor kid accidently pushed you down some stairs?"

"What do you want me to tell you?" She was getting angry now- Jim didn't need super-senses to detect that.

But Blair matched the challenge in her tone. "Tell me why you're at the police station."

"I..." It seemed even she couldn't think up a quick explaination for that. She turned away from him finally, her hands fidgetting with her car keys.

"You can trust me, Angie. You know that, don't you?" Jim watched as Blair put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched and jerked away from him suddenly, drawing in a broken gasp.

"An?"

She faced him, but backed away a step. "I'm sorry, Blair. Just don't...don't touch me, okay?"

Blair's own indignance faded abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Listen, as soon as you're ready, you can tell me anything. You do know that?"

She nodded silently.

"Good. Now, why don't you come home with us. We were about to start dinner. Just leftovers, but still not bad."

"I don't think-"

"Angie. Come on. We both know something bad happened to you. I'll let you keep it a secret if that's what you want, but I'm not gonna let you be alone."

"Not gonna let me? Give me a break, Blair. You obviously overestimate your amount of control in my life." She paused, her hands tightening around her keys. "I'm out of here. Thanks for the invitation, but no thanks. I've got better things to do than be around one man who obviously doesn't like me," her gaze swung to Jim's distant figure.

Jim winced. He made an even worse impression than he thought.

"And one man who thinks he has to pity me."

"That really isn't very-"

"Leave it, Blair. Thanks for your concern, but I really do have to get home now." She turned quickly and got into her car, leaving one confused Guide behind.

Jim waited until she's pulled away, and left the truck to go to Blair's side. "You okay, Blair?" he asked quietly.

"I don't get it, Jim. She just blew up at me. I thought I was getting through to her."

Jim frowned. He knew where Blair had gone wrong, but did the kid really want to know? His sense of guilt was always so strong... "How many rape victims have you known before?" he asked finally.

Blair's apprehensive gaze swung towards him. "A few,"

"Really known, Chief."

"One," he admitted finally. "And it happened a long time before I knew her."

Jim took his arm and guided him towards the truck. "I've met quite a few, only a couple were people I actually knew pretty well. Rape's a very bad thing, Blair," he realized how condescending that sounded and tried again. "There are a lot of ways it affects victims, the least of which is physical. Rape isn't so much about sex, it's about control. It's about some asshole wanting to completely dominate and control another person. And the one thing the victim comes away with more than anything, is that sense of lost control." He paused, glancing over to make sure Blair was listening. "The one thing you shouldn't do to a rape victim, especially this soon after the crime, is order them around, or make them feel like they have no control."

Blair winced, his eyes shutting briefly. "That's why she flipped out when I said I wouldn't let her be alone."

"That's why."

"Damn it," Blair said softly. He slowly climbed into the truck, his eyes going straight ahead.

Jim gunned the engine, knowing it would be another long, silent ride home.

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