The information in the letter proved accurate when it came to the correlation of the stores, the construction sites and the security company.  Jim and Blair had proved that to themselves after checking out the first three robbery sites.

Returning to Major Crimes, they conferred with Captain Banks, and together they set up for surveillance on the three stores that the informant had postulated would be next on the 'clowns' list.  The only break in the pattern that the robber had held to, was that one of the three had already been robbed, two weeks before, when the case was still under the Robbery Division's care.

At midnight, the teams were in place.  Brown and Rafe had the Quick 'N Git, Taggart and Connor had the 7-11, and Jim and Blair had chosen to watch the Get 'N Go.

Due to the possible nature of the robber, and the involvement of the security company, the teams were maintaining near total radio silence.  Most security companies used scanners to keep track of police movements and to keep abreast of any traffic pertaining to their coverage areas. Enterprising crooks had
also taken to using the scanners to keep out of the way of the police as much as possible.

"Lead to Two, in place?"

"Roger, Lead."  Detective Henri Brown answered Jim's call.

"Three?  In place?"

"10-4," came the response of Inspector Megan Connor.

Jim relaxed against the passenger door of his truck, "Okay guys, relax, settle in.  This could be a long night.  Keep the channel open and the chatter to a minimum."

"Roger."

"Copy that."

Taking the ear piece off and laying it on the dash board in front of him, Jim leaned back against the seat, looking over at his partner,  "Chief, did you remember to bring the thermos?"

Reaching over to his backpack, Blair pulled out the item in question.  "Yeah, you want some already?"

"Might as well."  Taking the thermos from him, Jim poured out two cups of the extra strong brew then handed one of the cups of coffee over to Blair. "Here you go, Chief."

Taking the cup from Jim, he blew on the steaming liquid and took a cautious sip.  Looking out the front windshield he questioned, "So, do you think he'll hit tonight, or will we be back out here tomorrow?"

Looking out the window himself, Jim took in the storefront and the light traffic of their location.  "I don't know, Chief.  Probably not.  Why?"

"Cause I'm suddenly wishing that I had brought a book along."

"So am I, buddy.  So am I."

The shared chuckles faded and they sat back to keep their eyes open. In Jim's case, his hearing as well.

Two hours later, Blair realized he had a problem.  "Uh, Jim?"

"Let me guess...Too much coffee, Chief?"

"Yeah."

"Okay.  We could use another look into the store.  Your turn."  Jim looked over at his partner, "Just make sure you keep your hair down over the ear piece, and your shirt concealing your weapon and the radio.  No reason to spook the clerk."  Jim had canvassed the store earlier, and there hadn't been enough traffic in the store to warrant his return, so it was Blair's turn.

"Will do.  Thanks."  Jumping out of the truck, he headed across the street and entered the store.  Pausing only long enough to spot the bathrooms, he smiled at the young clerk and trotted back to the men's room.   He had a little trouble keeping the radio wires from getting tangled, but was soon exiting the bathroom, drying his hands.  Seeing movement in the security mirror above the soda fountain, he ducked back into the small hallway, pulling his gun free of its holster.

There at the counter, waving a gun at the now terrified clerk, was the clown. The lady was handing over a wad of bills to the robber, who grabbed the money and ran out of the store.  Blair followed, telling the frightened clerk to call 9-1-1 as he bolted out the door. He spotted the clown running west from the store, and took off in pursuit. Keying his radio as he ran after the robber, he said. "Lead 2 to 1, foot pursuit. Westbound on Shore Drive."  No answer.  He kept in pursuit, watching as the robber turned down an alleyway halfway down the next block.  Muttering under his breath, "Damn it, Jim!  Get your ass in gear!" he followed.

The earpiece flared to life in his ear as Blair approached the entrance to the alley.  "Hairboy, where are you?  We're responding."

Pulling back to conceal himself, he answered in a low voice.  "Brown, the service alley on Shore between 4th and 5th."

"Enroute."

Taking a fast look into the barely lit alley, he noticed the white security car and the robber standing next to the open driver's door. Training with a sentinel came in handy at a time like this.  As silently as he could, Blair
moved in closer to the perp who was shedding the costume.  Seeing that the outfit he was shedding hampered the tall lanky man's arms, Blair moved in quickly and quietly. "Freeze!  Cascade PD!"

Startled, the clown spun around and found himself looking into the barrel of a very lethal looking gun and a pissed off plain-clothes officer.   Realizing the gig was up, he slowly raised his hands and placed them on his head.

Blair had secured the robber in his handcuffs just as Rafe pulled his Taurus into the alleyway, followed rapidly by Connor and Taggart and a couple of marked units. Turning the robber over to one of the uniformed officers, leaving his fellow detectives to inventory the car, and take care of the arrest scene, Blair trotted back to find where Jim had gotten off to.  He expected to find his partner talking to the store clerk, but didn't see him in the store.  Looking across the street, he saw that the truck was still parked where he'd left it twenty minutes earlier.

Crossing the street, he noticed that Jim was still inside, leaning up against the door.  Opening the driver's door, he realized why Jim hadn't responded. The snores were loud enough to wake the dead. He didn't even react when Blair poked him in the ribs. "Oh, man.  You're really out of it, aren't you?" Seeing Taggart approaching the truck, he climbed back out to intercept the former bomb captain.

Joel had sent Megan in to talk with the store clerk and get her statement. Spotting Jim's truck, he headed over to see why Jim hadn't backed up his partner.  He got about halfway across the street when Blair caught up to him. "Sandburg, what is Ellison doing?"

Seeing no other way around the Captain, he decided honesty was probably the best tactic to use.  "He's asleep, Joel."

"Asleep?!?"

"Shhh!  Keep your voice down!"  Blair looked around to make sure that they were alone.  "Look, he's gone something like nearly four days without sleep. This case had him too wound up."

Joel couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Blair, you mean to tell me that Jim's been suffering from insomnia, and you allowed him to work the surveillance tonight?  What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't.  Look, Joel, I have no right to ask this of you, but can we keep this quiet?  Just between us?"  He looked up at the older detective, putting his best 'puppy look' on.

Looking into the young man's face, Joel knew he wasn't about to win this argument.  "It's against my better judgment...  Oh, hell.  Just get him out of here and I'll take care of booking the subject in.  You owe me for this, Blair."

"And I'll pay you back, Joel.  Thanks."  Trotting back to the truck, he climbed in and started the engine.  Pulling away, he left Taggart to handle the rest of the crime scene, trying to think of ways to thank the man later.

Pulling up to the loft, Blair realized that there was no way he was going to wake Jim up, let alone get him into the loft.  "Better to let sleeping sentinels lie."  He cracked the windows for fresh air circulation, and left his partner in the locked truck.  He got into his Volvo and headed back to the station, not wanting to abandon his arrest and needing to get his report on the matter taken care of before morning.

Returning to the loft at six in the morning, Blair tried again to wake Jim up with no luck.  Giving up, he trotted up the stairs towards their apartment. Hearing Alicia talking to someone, he stopped on the second floor landing and saw her outside her apartment, cuddling a playful, feisty, black cat.  A mountain racing bike leaned against the wall near her door.    Deciding to be friendly, he walked over to her.

"Morning, Alicia."

"Blair!  Look who finally decided to come home."  She turned so that the cat and he could eye each other.  "St. Germaine, meet Blair.  Blair, this little scamp is Saint Gee.  The bane and joy in my life."

He leaned over, giving the black cat a scratch behind the ears, and was rewarded with a loud purring.  "Saint Gee?  This is who you were calling for this morning?  I thought it was Sanjee."

"You heard me?"  Alicia looked at him, puzzled, then let the thought go as Saint Gee leaped from her arms into Blair's.  "Well, that's a first.  He usually doesn't take to strangers."

Catching the flying furball, he laughed.  "Whoa!  Energetic, ain't he?"

"Very."  She looked at his appearance, "Been working all night?"

Cuddling Saint Gee, bestowing ear scratches, he nodded. "Yeah.  Finally got to close a case that had been bugging Jim and me."

"Good.  Well, I need to get Saint Gee inside and get ready for my day."

Looking over at the mountain bike, he handed the cat back to her, which caused the cat to protest loudly.  "You just getting in?"

"Yep.  Up at five every morning, bike three to five miles, then my day really starts."

"Bet you didn't get much sleep yesterday then."

"I got enough.  I don't need much.  Three to four hours and I'm good to go."

"Yeah, well, I need to get upstairs and to bed.  Glad, that Saint Gee decided to come home.  See you around."  He turned away and heard the door to Alicia's apartment close behind him.

Entering the loft, Blair walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of fruit juice.  Sipping on the tangy beverage, he wandered into his room, stripping out of his shirt, armored vest, and undershirt as he went, then, placing the bottle on his bedside stand, he collapsed into bed.

Walking out to her car at eight-thirty, Alicia noticed the slumped figure in the blue and white Ford pickup.  Concerned, she walked up to see that it was Jim Ellison.  The man was snoring loud enough for her to hear over the morning traffic on Prospect Street. Tapping on the passenger window, she caused him to jump.  Seeing that she had his attention, she said, "Morning, Jim.  Have a spat?"  She climbed into her Subaru and with a friendly wave, pulled away as the tall detective climbed out of his truck.

Confused, Jim rubbed his face and winced as his neck protested the position he'd slept in.    "A 'spat'?"  Shaking his head, he headed into the building and up to his apartment.

Hearing Blair's snores coming from the younger man's room, he headed over to the kitchen and found a note from his friend.

Jim,
Arrest made.  Case closed.  Simon gave us today off and this weekend as well. Sorry about leaving you in the truck, but you wouldn't wake up and I was not about to carry you up.  Go to bed, sleep yourself out. I'll fill you in LATER.
B.

Crumpling the note up and throwing it away, Jim wandered over to the dining table and picked up his Clancy book before heading up the stairs to his bed. No sooner was he in the bed, than he was out like a light.

~The End~