False Praises

Rafe couldn't help but be excited. This was the biggest case he'd had in a while, and he was an inch away from closing it. The murders around the university had been big news- they always were. No matter how many disasters plagued that school, the press still loved getting their hands on the gory details of any new goings on. And the last few weeks had been big.

First, the president of the university's daughter, Jane, a student, had been found with a slit throat in the middle of the library. That had caused an uproar, a press nightmare, and numerous migraines for one Simon Banks, who had given the case to Rafe and Brown, hoping they could, if not actually finding the guy who did it, at least be high-profile enough to satisfy the president and the press.

And then another girl had been found, throat slit, in the back row of a class that was still in session. It was credited to the same killer, and the mysterious, public crime scene had been the source of a fever of panic and a greatly increased skip rate in the student body.

Rafe and Brown had worked their butts off on this case, occasionally joking with each other that if Simon had realized it was going to get this big, he would have given it to Ellison and Sandburg. This was a case that would normally have gone to the other partnership in Major Crimes, the more high-profile team. But they did what they could, comparing notes on the two murders endlessly, grilling witnesses, the professor of the class, students, anyone who might have known anything. As with any high-profile crime, they had received several anonymous phone tips, most just jokes, but they followed each one to the end, willing to go any distance to track the killer.

Both the dead girls had been wearing matching earrings. Nothing too fancy or noticable- just matching little red hoops. Rafe had noticed it completely by chance. And then a tip: a far-fetched phone call speculating about a sorority house on campus and the strange things going on with the girls involved. They had researched it just long enough to find out that neither girl was either a member or pledging the sorority, and then moved on to other possibilities.

Brown had been out for the last few days with the flu, but Rafe had forged on, going to the campus again and again and interviewing witnesses. And now, since he was in the neighborhood, he stopped to pay a visit to Sandburg and sat in on the last few minutes of his class. As always, he was struck by the rapt attention the students paid to the enthusiastic teacher. He grinned knowingly at Blair's enthusiastic lecture, watching the grad student describing some ancient tribal ritual of greeting the morning sun, and then Blair noticed him sitting in the back, and broke off his lecture to wave enthusiastically. Unprofessionally, Rafe couldn't help thinking as the entire class turned to see who their teacher was greeting.

Blair wrapped up the lecture quickly after that, sending the class out a little early, and Rafe hung behind to talk to him.

"How's the investigation going?" Blair asked, his cheerful demeanor fading slightly once they were alone. "The students are really scared, man. Half the class has stopped coming."

Rafe paused. That was only half his class? Blair must attract a lot of students. "Truthfully, not so great," he admitted. "There just isn't that much to go on."

Blair tensed then, and Rafe wrapped up the conversation quickly, noticing his sudden discomfort.

As he went back to the arts building, Rafe found himself pondering Blair's change in attitude. He knew, and Brown knew, that Jim and Blair wanted this case. It was high-profile, it was challanging.

It was probably, Rafe told himself, the kind of case they would walk into and walk out ten minutes later with some guy in handcuffs. With Blair getting shot or kidnapped somewhere along the way, of course. Rafe knew that Simon wanted to give Jim and Blair the case- he had talked to Rafe about it briefly the day before, calling him into his office when he first got there. Rafe thought over that conversation with a twinge of anger.

"What's up, Cap?" he'd asked, surprised at the summons.

"How's the U investigation coming?" Simon had asked bluntly.

"We'll get there, Captain. It's a little thin right now, but-"

"You think you could use some help?"

Rafe had paused then. "Help?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah. Ellison's wrapped up his biggest headache, he could spare some time to go over there with you and see what you've got."

That had sounded too much like Simon was sending Jim to check their work over. "Thanks, Simon, but I really think we've got it under control right now. We've been over everything dozens of times, we haven't missed a thing."

Simon had paused then, as thought pondering his next words. "There could be some things you haven't noticed. I'd like Ellison to come down with you and take a look."

Feeling stiff, Rafe had found himself wishing Brown was there to snap at the captain. Rafe never did feel too comfortable with that. "Not today, Simon. I've got a pretty tight schedule. Oh, as a matter of fact..." Rafe had made a show of looking at his watch, and had ducked out of the office, and the station, quickly.

And now he walked across the campus, wondering how much Blair's stiffness had to do with the fact that he also thought Ellison would pick up things the other two had missed.

What was this? When had Ellison become some sort of super cop? When had it been decided that if Jim could see the notes Rafe and Brown had, he would magically spot some clue that would zoom them in on the guilty party? That he would take one look at the body and know who had done it?

Rafe was the first to admit that Ellison and Sandburg had a faster turn-out rate than he and Brown- than any detectives in the precinct, so far as he knew. But come on. That didn't have to mean....

No, he should stop. Jealousy never got nobody nowhere. Maybe that's all it was. He was jealous of the higher-profile life Ellison and Sandburg had found themselves in, and now he was getting resentful.

A girl approached him suddenly. "Hey, you were in Professor Sandburg's class, weren't you?"

Rafe shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah, Blair's a friend of mine."

She had that shy grin and slightly flushed look that told Rafe she thought he was attractive. "Oh, really? He's a great teacher."

Glancing at her as he walked, Rafe noticed something. She had on earings, little red hoops. "Those are nice earings," he stated plainly.

"Wha...? Oh. Thanks." She fingered one hoop with a giggle.

"Where'd you get them?"

"Uh. I'm wearing the hoops, right?"

He nodded patiently.

"Yeah. Um, I was pegged by an Omega sister. This is sorta the badge they give us, so everyone knows who we are."

"Pegged?" Rafe slowed down. "What does that mean?"

"Well. Dawn, she's the sister that pegged me, I helped her out on this massive final exam in psychology last year. So she was gonna sponsor me to be an Omega, but I wasn't really interested. I'm really into schoolwork, you know? So she pegged me instead. Everyone knows I'm a friend to the sisters, even if I'm not one. So most of the other sororities leave me alone, and I get to go to most of Omega's parties."

"Really?" Rafe's thoughts were going a mile a minute. That anonymous tip about the sorority- it had been something with Omega in it, hadn't it?- had suspected the sorority of some strange things. And both the girls had on those earings. They had both been pegged. Now all he had to do was find out where the two facts connected. "Do you think I could talk to that girl who pegged you? Or someone in charge at Omega?"

She had frowned, confused. "Why would you want to do that? Say, who are you? Are you really Proffessor Sandburg's friend?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. But I'm interested in the murders."

"Umm. Yeah, look, I gotta go."

Rafe knew he was on to something then. "What's your rush?"

"Look, I can't talk about those murders, okay? Not to anyone. I don't know who...I mean, you're too cute to be a cop, but...I gotta go,"

And Rafe watched her run off, his heart pounding. Yes! This was something! He had something to go on now!

Time to pay a visit to a sorority house.



Blair walked down the campus the next day, eager to get out of there and back to the station to see what Simon had said about Jim's formal request to take over the Ranier investigation. Blair wanted this case. He wanted to find the man who had put his students into such a state of fright that they missed his classes in larger and larger numbers. He wanted to find the man who killed innocent girls in the middle of the day in a public place, proving that nothing, no one, and no place was sacred.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost didn't recognize the man in the middle of an approaching crowd of women as Rafe.

He stopped when he finally did realize who it was, and gaped. Rafe was dressed too casually to be at work, in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair carelessly blowing around. He looked like any other student. So what was he doing there? And who were the girls he was walking with?

Rafe's eyes strayed to Blair as he laughed too loudly at something one or another of the girls said. He waved casually. "Hey, Professor!"

Blair blinked, then ambled over to the group. "Hi," was all he said in return, not sure exactly what was going on.

"Surprised to see me?" Rafe asked with a grin.

Blair hesitated, stammering for the right response.

"It has been a while," Rafe continued easily. He turned to address the girls around him. "I took one of Professor Sandburg's classes when I was still here. Professor, how's it going?"

"Um. Fine. So...what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just came by to check out the old campus, you know," Rafe waved airily. He then got a sheepish look on his face. "Can you believe, I was looking for the old frat house and walked right in on a bunch of women,"

The girls giggled around him.

Rafe grinned at them all, pulling out his charm full force. "Hey, I think I'm going to talk to the Prof. See you ladies tonight, eh?"

They threw out various responses, continuing on their path as Rafe led Blair away.

"What is going on here?" Blair blurted.

"Look, Blair, the murders around here have something to do with the Omega sorority, only I'm not sure what it is yet. So I'm going undercover, kind of, to see if I can figure out what's up. Nothing serious. Only...don't tell Simon, okay? He'd blow a gasket."

"Rafe, is this a good idea?"

"What? Oh, sure. Just a casual investigation. I even got invited to some party the girls are throwing tonight."

"The big first week of spring party?" Blair had heard countless students gushing about how big a deal it was, how they wished they could be invited. He himself had been invited by a student he was tutoring. He hadn't been planning on going, but... "Not a bad assignment, Rafe."

"Not yet," Rafe grinned.

Blair couldn't help but feel disappointed- that meant Jim hadn't gotten the case turned over to them. Or maybe he had, and Rafe didn't know it yet. Either way, it wasn't good. "I have to get to the station. Be careful, alright?"

"Yeah, living on the fast lane here." Rafe gestured at the green of the campus. With his hair being mussed by the breeze and the carefree smile on his face, he looked too much like he belonged there.



"Sandburg, get over here!"

Blair sighed and wandered over to Jim's desk, wondering where else Jim thought he would go. "How's it going, big guy?"

"We've got a lot of work to do. We have to go down to the morgue and look at those two bodies, and then we're hightailing it back to the U."

"Simon gave you the case?" Blair asked, brightening noticably.

"Just told me a minute ago." Jim nodded in confirmation.

Blair resisted the urge to cheer out loud. At last, they would catch this guy! "Alright! Where do we start?"

Jim grinned. "Slow down, Chief. First we go over these notes, then we'll go catch us a killer."

Blair accepted the files offered to him and saw Rafe's name at the top of one. Rafe. He'd have to remember to call Rafe and tell him.

But first he had a crime to solve.



Jim was stumped. It had been too damned long, all the evidence was gone. There weren't any traces of evidence left on the girls' bodies, no clues at the sights. Nothing Jim could pick up. He had spent a frustrating afternoon looking at every last speck of dirt, and had drawn a blank.

"I don't know, Chief. We'll just have to come back tomorrow and start from scratch."

"What about the theory Omega was involved somehow?" Blair asked as they drove back towards the loft at the day's end.

"I don't know. It is thin, but it's something. We'll look at it tomorrow."

"How about tonight?" Blair filled him in on the party that night quickly.

Jim smiled for the first time in hours. "Not bad, Chief. Sure, you get out there, see if you overhear anythiing. Any chance I can get in?"

"Not unless you've got a sister to vouch for you. Sorry, man,"

"Alright, but I'll be on the campus. Just remember to keep the cell phone with you and call if you overhear anything suspiscious."

"Sure thing."

Blair was practically bounding in his excitement, up to the loft, through dinner, and out again to go back to the campus. He was looking forward to this party now- now that he knew he had a chance to solve the murders that had haunted the campus.

Jim dropped him off near the sorority house, and drove off, just in case anyone was watching. Blair knew he would circle around and park somewhere nearby, ready to rush to the rescue if Blair was in any danger.

As Blair entered the loud party, he grinned. The only think he could see here that would be dangerous were the amount of grins he was getting from girls who were, or could conceivably someday be, his students.

"Hey, Professor! I'm glad you came!" Lashandra Sullivan, the student who had invited him to the party, came bounding up.

"Hi, Shan. Not bad," he commented, looking around at the crowd of Rainier's who's who students, the huge amounts of food and drinks, the fun everyone was having.

"Doesn't suck," she shrugged in response. "Nothing like last year's, though."

Blair grinned. Last year's spring party had ended sometime the second night, if he remembered right.

"Oh, Prof, you have to meet this guy, he says he knows you." She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the crowd.

Blair went readily enough, grinning and waving at everyone he knew. A cup of some liquid or another appeared in his hand, and he found himself moving to the music. God, he did enjoy this. For all the times he spent with other teachers, he forgot that he was also a student, and he was entitled to party and destroy brain cells like all other grad students.

And then his grin faded. "Rafe!"

The detective was dancing with one of the girls, dressed in his GQ best, attracting even more looks than Blair did. At the sound of his name, though, he paused, looking around. He saw Blair and his eyebrows shot up. "Hey, Professor. What're you doing here?" he asked, cheerfully enough.

Lashandra still held Blair's arm possessively. "I invited him," she told him with a grin.

"Shan, I thought you were saving yourself for me?" Rafe gave the girl a charmingly hurt smile.

She practically blushed. "Anytime you want it, Rafey."

Blair gave the detective an incredulous look. Rafey? Shan? He'd been with these girls for a day now, and he was acting like he belonged there naturally. Blair envied, for a moment, his comfort and ease. Jim always commented on Blair's ability to adapt in any surrounding- he should have seen Rafe right then.

But then another thought occurred to him. Why was Rafe at that party? He had been planning to go to investigate, but this wasn't his case anymore.

And then he shut his eyes briefly. Damn. Of course Rafe was there. Blair was supposed to have called him and told him this was Jim's case now, and he'd forgotten. "Uh. Rafe, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Another carefree smile. "Hey, Teach, you do remember that I don't go here anymore, right? You can't threaten to fail me if I stay out too late or anything."

Blair smiled tightly. "I remember."

"Good. Lead on, kemo sabe. I'll be back, Alicia." He shot a smile back to his dancing partner and followed Blair to the edge of the room. "I have to tell ya, Blair," he chatted as they walked. "This is one of the funnest assignments I've had in a while."

Blair moved until they were aginst the wall, in a relatively unoccupied corner, and turned a serious look to the other man.

Rafe, still bopping his head to the music, misinterpreted his frown. "Oh, hey, don't worry. I'm working here, I promise. I've already got a pretty good idea of what the motive was-"

"Rafe, Simon turned the case over to Jim."

Just like that, Rafe's smile dropped. "What??"

"This afternoon. I was supposed to call you, this is my fault."

"Simon did what?" Rafe didn't seem to comprehend. "He gave Jim the investigation?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah. We were over here some today, and he sent me here tonight to see what I could find out. I'm sorry you came all the way out here for nothing."

Rafe fell completely still and silent for a moment. "I see," he said slowly. "He sent you here. I'm off the case."

Blair shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I should have called."

"No problem, man," Rafe assured him. But his voice came out soft, almost distractedly. "I guess I should go, huh?"

Blair shrugged. "You did get invited, and this is the party of the year," he said with a smile.

Rafe didn't return it. He started turning, still sounding far-off and distracted. "Yeah. I should go. Good luck, Blair."

Blair watched him fade into the crowd. That was weird. Rafe should have gotten a kick out of the fact that he could now enjoy the party without having to scope for clues. Maybe he was worried Blair would get himself hurt. That would figure.

Blair took a sip of the tepid liquid in his cup and grimaced.

Somehow he had the feeling he'd just done something really wrong, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

Rafe pushed his way through the crowd, keeping a plastic smile on his face for the sorority sisters who spotted him in the crowd.

Simon gave Jim this case. The case Brown and Rafe had been exhausting themselves on for two weeks. The case that had driven Brown home, sick, and kept Rafe up too many nights. Now. Now that Rafe had a good lead, now that he had finally gotten a break. Simon had taken that lead and given it to Jim and Blair.

He couldn't fathom it. Why? Why would Simon have done that? Why would they be so certain that Rafe couldn't solve this case himself?

No, no. Don't do that. No self-pity here. It wasn't necessarily that they didn't think Rafe could do it.

They just thought Jim and Blair could do it better.

He felt a sense of injustice at the whole thing, but he forced it under, disgusted with himself. Why was he so concerned about who solved the case? As long as it got solved, he should be happy. And if Simon really thought that Jim and Blair could handle it better, get the killer behind bars faster, well, maybe they could. So Rafe should have been happy to let them take over. Right?

No. He wasn't anywhere close to happy. But maybe he was unhappy at the wrong people. It wasn't Blair's fault he had taken Rafe's place in the investigation. It wasn't Simon's fault if he trusted the partners with the highest turn-out rate. Maybe it was just Rafe's fault for not being any better at it. Maybe he had been so inefficient this whole time, Simon had been forced to give Jim and Blair the case. Why else would he have done it?

Damn.

Rafe ducked out the door before any of the wandering faces that followed his movements got up enough courage to approach him. He really didn't want to talk to anyone right then.

He made his way around the back of the house, where he had parked his car in the lot reserved for the Omegas and their brother fraternity's members. (They would be THRILLED if he parked there, they had assured him.) He moved steadily, not taking in anything around him, over to his car and pulled out his keys.

"Man! This is gonna be great!"

Rafe ducked at the sound of the voice. A few car lengths down, hidden from his view by a black truck, some guys were getting out of their cars, ready to join the party.

Some gut feeling told Rafe he wanted to listen to this.

"Which one are you going for?" Another voice asked.

"Who knows? I can't even keep track of all the new ones."

"Just remember to play it cool in there." A third voice piped up. "Reg is supposed to be here, and he'd flip if he found out."

"Screw Reg," the second voice answered. "Who's gonna tell him? Jane?" he snickered.

Rafe stiffened. Jane? The first victim. Was this-

"Just shut up about her, alright? I can't believe you had the pres's daughter nailed. It's your fault the cops are all over the place."

"That's daylight, Rob. This is night time." A laugh, and the voices soon trailled off.

Dropping his keys in his rush, Rafe quickly jogged after them, back to the party. Were these really his killers? Just average frat boys? No. That third guy had said he'd HAD her nailed, not done it himself. Whatever nailed was.

Nailed, pegged. He couldn't remember frat life being so frought with terminology in his day.

He saw the door ahead open, and the three men going in. He put on a burst of speed and caught the door before it shut. And therre they were, still clumped together, wandering over towards the drinks, flashing cocky smiles at everyone who looked their way.

Rafe quickly picked out the third voice, the only one who had sounded slightly concerned about what they'd been doing. He was smiling as big as the other two, but had an air of apprehension around him.

Rafe looked around for Blair. The grad student wasn't in sight, probably off dancing, trying to talk clues out of the girls. He turned back to the men, who were quickly starting to break up, going off to dance or get some food, or socialize.

Rafe hesitated. This wasn't his case anymore. He had no authority here. He should find Blair, or go out and find Jim- he knew the detective had to be around somewhere, keeping an eye on his partner. He should tell them what he knew and let them take it. Right?

No. No way in hell. If they thought he was really that ineffective an officer, he'd have to start proving himself somehow. It didn't matter who solved it, right? As long as it was closed.

So he started off, towards the third guy- Rob, his friend had called him.

Plastering a huge smile to his face, he went right up to the guy and clapped him on the back. "Hey, Rob!"

The student stopped his raid on the bowl of chips, surprised. "Hey, man," he greeted after a minute.

"Rob? You know Alicia?" Rafe lowered his voice conspiratoraly.

His brow still creased, Rob nodded. "Of course, man. Why?"

"She wants to see you. Outside," Rafe wagged his eyebrows meaningfully. Alicia was the vice-president of the Omegas. She was the most untouchable woman on campus, if what he had gathered listening to them chat earlier that day was true.

Sure enough, Rob seemed to forget he didn't know who the hell Rafe was. "Really?"

"Yeah, man. Come on." Rafe started off.

The kid behind him hesitated, looking around for his friends.

"Come on, Rob. It's ALICIA," Rafe stressed.

Rob burst into a goofy grin. "Aw, man. Wait until Sean hears." He followed Rafe obediently through the crowd.

Rafe led the way out the front door, then back around towards the parking lot.

"Where we going?" Rob asked, unconcerned.

"I think she wants to take you for a drive. You know?"

Rob smirked.

God, college guys still never got tired of stale innuendo, did they? Rafe led him back behind the first row of cars, scanning the parking lot surreptisiously to make sure no one else was around.

"Where is she?" Rob followed his sweping gaze.

"Probably inside dancing," Rafe replied with a shrug. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge with a grin. "Cascade PD, Robbie."

"Aw, shit."

"Yeah." Rafe nodded his agreement. "Now, do me a favor and join me in the car over here. I want to talk to you about a little thing called nailing."

"Shit," Rob said again, turning to bolt back towards the party and the safety of his more confident friends.

Rafe grabbed him easily and slung him up against his own car. "Do that again, Rob. Give me an excuse to drag you to the station and question you."

"Come on, man. I didn't do anything. What's the charge here?"

"Try murder."

His eyes grew huge. "Murder?" Suddenly he tensed, jerking himself out of Rafe's grasp and throwing a punch.

Rafe ducked it easily, grabbing his arm as it whizzed by his head and twisting it behind him.

Rob sucked in a breath, but recovered, ramming his free elbow into the detective's midsection, and jerking himself away when Rafe doubled over. "You don't know what you're doing, cop."

Rafe threw himself into a tackle, hitting Rob in his chest and mowing him down to the ground. Landing on top of him, Rafe almost managed to avoid the knee that twisted up to meet him. Pain lanced through his leg as he didn't get out of the way in time, and he rolled off of the student.

Rob got himself up quickly, and threw another punch at the officer, catching Rafe on the mouth.

Rafe felt blood running down his chin as his lip split, and he growled. No wonder none of the other Major Crimes officers trusted him- he couldn't even take out a college kid. Anger, at himself, at this punk who had just split his lip, at everything, suddenly forced him to his feet. He lunged, fist flying, hitting the student in the jaw, and following with a quick jab at his stomach.

Rob fell to his knees clumsily, hands grasping his midsection, and Rafe pulled his revolver out of it's spot hidden at the small of his back. "Alright, Rob. I'd stay down on the ground if I was you. You don't want to give me an excuse."

Rob looked up, ready to snap about his rights, but the look in the detective's eye silenced him, and he stayed where he was.

"Tell me about the murders, Rob."

Rob sank down to a sitting position. "Man, you gotta believe me. We never killed anybody."

"Oh really? Attacking me wasn't the best way to convince me of that." Rafe crouched. "Why don't you relax, Rob. We'll sit here and have a nice conversation. I'll fill you in on your rights, you can tell me what exactly was involved in having the president's daughter nailed."

Rob slumped, defeated. "Man. Don't I get a lawyer or something?"

Rafe shrugged. "If you want, we can go down to the station and I'll book you, for assaulting a police officer if nothing else. Your lawyer can meet you there."

"Book me? Aw, shit. My parents would kill me. Alright, alright. Look, if I tell you what I know, will you let me go?"

"I'll put in a really good word for you." Rafe replied agreeably.

"Man. Alright, look, I never killed anybody. It's the sisters, man. The Omegs."

"You're saying the Omegas are killing their own members?"

"No, man. Not members. Just the pegged girls."

"Alright, tell me what all this means."

"Okay, look, when a girl gets pegged, she has to be a stand-in for the Omegs."

"What do you mean?" Rafe's gaze went back to the building when the sounds of music suddenly became louder. Just some frat guy barfing on the porch. He turned back. "Start talking."

"Okay, okay. See, our frat and the Omegs have a deal going. We help each other out, you know? Give each other whatever we want."

"I hate it when people are vague, did I mention that?"

"Look, man, it's simple. Sometimes we want a meal, we go to the Omeg house. Sometimes they need favors, they come to us."

Rafe got a thought. "Tell me this eventually has something to do with sex."

Rob swallowed. "Well, what do you expect? Sometimes we want a litte companionship. Same for them, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. So is that what you mean by stand-in?"

"Sure. If we want a few favors and the Omegs can't or don't want to do it, they send one of the pegs."

Rafe shut his eyes briefly in disgust. This was why he'd never bothered pledging anywhere. "So tell me about nailing."

Rob shrugged. "If a peg doesn't cooperate, we nail em. Report them to the Omegs,"

"That's all it is? Reporting them for not cooperating?"

"That's enough, man. The Omegs are seriously uptight about their image. You should see this place at pledge time. If a peg doesn't work out, I dunno, I guess they get rid of it."

Rafe shook his head slowly, suddenly tired. This was too much. Sorority girls killing fellow students because they wouldn't do their dirty work for them? "You expect me to believe all this?"

"Ask Alicia, she's the one we report to."

"Really?" Rafe straightened, gazing back towards the dance hall. "Alright, Rob, here's the situation. I'm gonna handcuff you to my car here, and you're going to sit tight and keep nice and quiet until I come back out for you. Do I have to tell you what can happen if you don't?"

"No, man." Rob's eyes burned with anger, but Rafe knew he wouldn't be going anywhere.





Jim Ellison was not in a good mood. He'd been sitting there only a short time before his head started throbbing with a migraine.

He had tried following Blair into the party with his senses, keeping track of his friendss heart beat, but the concentration of filtering out the roar of noise had been too much, and Jim's temple was screaming it's protest.

He kept his eyes on the building patiently, though, knowing he could be there for quite a while. Occasionally a student or a group of kids would wander in or out, and he flinched every time the door opened, feeding his headache with the music pouring out.

And then his eyes caught on a familiar figure, jogging around the side of the building.

"Rafe! What the hell are you doing here?"

Rafe slowed. Yeah, he'd been right. There was Jim Ellison, sitting in his truck, calmly watching the house. He changed course, going over to him. "Jim! Listen, I've got some-"

"What are you doing here?" Jim demanded. "Don't you know there's an investigation going on here?"

Rafe pulled back, surprised. "Uh, yeah, Jim, I did. I have to go in and find Alicia."

This was not helping his headache. "I don't believe this. You're interfering so you can locate some girl you met today?"

Rafe felt his anger reigniting, ignoring the fact that Jim was probably tense. And probably right, the way Rafe's track record was going. But still, he had no right to yell at him before he knew what was happening.

"Simon told me you were fighting to keep this case." Jim accused, climbing out of the truck to stand beside the younger man.

"Jim, shut up. You don't know what's going on here."

"You're right, and I don't want to know. Blair's in there trying to find answers, and the last thing he needs is you showing up and distracting him."

Rafe took a deep breath, facing the angry, pale-looking officer. Jim was rubbing his temple distractedly. Headache, Rafe guessed. Poor friggin guy. "Look, Jim," he started, then stopped. What could he say? Jim was right, he had no right to be there. Why Jim decided to point that out to him, he didn't know. Rafe knew he shouldn't be oversensitive to the no-nonsense detective, but Jim wasn't exactly catching him at a good time. Rafe found himself deflating. "Jim. My car's parked in the back. Go over there and look at it for me, you'll find what you need." He turned slowly and started off, away from the building and the parking lot.

"Rafe?" Jim's anger faded with the realization that he was being too big a prick even for him. It was replaced by confusion. "What are you-"

"Damn it, Jim, just go look. Trust me for once." And he started off again.

Jim watched him go for a second, wondering briefly where he was going. Then he grabbed his cell phone and jogged towards the back parking lot.





Blair liked Alicia. She was fun, she was smart, and she had insights in her reports that most students not majoring in anthropology missed.

And she was a great dancer.

"So these murders are a real bummer, huh?" Blair shouted as they danced.

"Yeah, really." Alicia was flushed, smiling, looking not at all bummed. "You think they'll ever find out who did it?"

"I think so," Blair answered, confident in his partner.

Speaking of his partner...Blair suddenly saw a familiar cropped head of hair floating it's way through the crowd. What was Jim doing in here?

"What's wrong?" Alicia asked as Blair stopped moving.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to my roommate." Blair led Alicia by the hand over towards Jim.

Ellison finally spotted his partner heading right for him. "Blair, look, I've got a good idea who-"

"Jim," Blair interrupted quickly, knowing if he reminded everyone at this point that he was an observer with the police, no one would talk to him. "This is Alicia."

Jim's eyes grew, and he reached over suddenly, taking her arm and pulling her away from him. "Alicia Smith, you're under arrest for the murders of Jane van Garr and Sarah Becker."

Alicia didn't protest, didn't do anything. She just stood looked at Blair, a betrayed look in her eyes.

Blair watched in shock as Jim pulled out handcuffs and bound his dancing partner's hands. The activity around them fell to a dead stop as the students watched the popular girl being arrested.

Jim started moving her towards the door, and Blair followed, still stunned. As soon as they were outside Jim glanced over at Blair, the amazed look still in his eyes. "Someday you're gonna have to tell me how you knew it was her, Chief."

Blair smiled weakly. Someday he'd be interested in learning that himself.



Simon showed up about ten minutes later, in response to Jim's call. He appeared in the midst of the black and whites that had shown up, putting a stop to the party of the year, going right to where Jim and Blair stood with a grin on his face. "Great work, you two. Finally I'm going to enjoy my morning talk with the chief. You say this was some sorority girl?" Simon shook his head. "How did you know?"

Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder. "Ask Sandburg."

Blair looked over at Jim. "No, how DID you know?"

"We got a confession from some frat kid who knew what was going on." Jim answered brightly.

"Good. Hopefully we can wring a confession from the girl and not even have to go to trial!" Simon glanced over at a van pulling up. "Channel 6. Ellison, you wanna take the initial interview?"

Jim grinned over at Blair. "How bout it, Chief?"

"Go on, Jim. I'm a little wiped out."

Jim grinned agreeably and went to meet the press.

Simon clapped a hand on Sandburg's shoulder. "That was top work, Sandburg. I mean it,"

Blair beamed at the rare praise from his captain. "Thanks, Simon. I'm still not exactly sure of everything that happened," he confessed.

"No problem, you and Jim can wait until tomorow to write a report. I'm just glad it's-" Simon stopped abruptly. "Rafe? What're you doing here?"

Blair turned. Sure enough, there was Rafe, approaching from the trees, a strange look on his face. "Just wanted to see what happened," he answered.

"We've got our killer," Simon reported happily.

"That's great," Rafe said flatly.

"Alicia Smith," Blair reported. "Can you believe it?"

"Where's Jim?" Rafe asked instead or answering.

Blair gestured towards the news van, where the sentinel stood chatting with a well-dressed woman reporter.

Rafe took it in without response.

As he took in the quiet detective's profile, Simon suddenly saw the swelling of his lip and a smear of blood still on his chin. "What happened to you, Rafe? What are you doing here, anyway?"

Rafe turned away from Jim to look over at Blair. A resigned look in his eyes, he shrugged. "Nothing important, Simon. Nothing at all."

Blair watched the normally cheerful detective as he turned and trudged off towards the parking lot. "That was strange," he said to Simon.

"Yeah." Banks opened his mouth to say something, but Jim's voice stopped him.

"Simon, Blair! Come on, she wants to get all of us in this."





Inside the confines of a police car, Robert Helms watched the dark-haired police officer wander away from the scene of the crime. Hatred burned in his eyes as he thought of how easily he had confessed to the guy. He was on his way to prison. His parents would take away his trust fund, he'd probably get kicked out of school. And it was all that one cop's fault.

He knew his rights well enough to know that anything he'd said to either of those cops tonight was inadmissable in court. He could say they badgered him into talking.

But he didn't trust that first cop to let them go that easily. He did have one comfort. He'd made the cop think him and his friends were just innocent bystanders while Alicia committed those murders alone. Alicia would try to destroy him when she found out he'd sold her out, but maybe he could get his buddies to protect him. Maybe, if he gave them this detective, they'd get rid of him and all their problems in one shot.





"Man, Simon, those things are killer. Why don't you go sit by the balcony or something?"

"Lighten up, Sandburg. You never had a problem with my cigars before."

Blair waved a hand in front of his face melodramatically. "They're worse tonight, man. I dunno, did you switch brands?"

"You know he'd never do that. Now can it, both of you." Jim pointed with the remote and turned up the volume on the television.

Simon glanced over at Blair. "Why is it," he asked loudly. "That when Jim asked if I wanted to celebrate the end of this case with you guys, I didn't think he meant sitting in your apartment watching his interview on the news?"

"A sentinel and his ego will not be parted," Blair entoned in response.

"Oh, shut up. You're both in this too, remember."

"Jim, we were there, we know what we said. We don't have to watch it again. I swear, every single time you get your ugly mug on tv, you act like-"

"Hey, hey, it's on!" Jim cut off his captain, sitting up in his chair with a grin as the television picture showed Rainier's campus. A voice-over gave a brief summary of the murders, and then Jim's serious face appeared.

The tv version of Jim Ellison was speaking gravely about the murders, while the real-life Jim beamed at himself. "Man! I look good. My mom always said I should be a tv star."

Blair grinned. "They say the camera adds ten years, don't they? I don't know if you could afford that, old man."

"Ten pounds, smartass. And look at you standing back there, you look like a twelve year old girl."

"Yeah? At least I'm not boring the city with my analysis of sorority life and violence."

"Please. If they had let you, you'd turn this into some speech about closed campus life and the hierarchy of social leadership that forms when-"

"Will both of you shut up! I'm trying to listen to this." Simon glared at the two men good-naturedly.

They listened for a moment as Jim talked about the clues that had led to that night's arrest, and Blair suddenly turned to Jim, a thoughtful look on his face. "Jim? How did you solve this case?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "You don't listen to me when I talk in person, I guess it's too much to hope you'd listen to me on tv. I just explained-"

"No, you found a witness. How'd you do that? Didn't you tell me you were gonna wait in the truck?"

Jim shrugged. "I was, until Rafe showed up and..." he trailed off suddenly.

"Rafe?" Simon didn't notice the sudden frowns Sentinel and Guide shot each other. "Yeah, he showed up for a minute. What was he doing there?"

"He was there to investigate," Blair said quietly, his brow furrowed. "I forgot to call and tell him Jim had the case now."

Simon winced. "Uh oh. Did he take it well?"

"I guess. I dunno, he was acting kind of strange." Blair looked over at Simon. "He was acting a lot strange."

"Yeah, he was," Simon readily agreed, remembering Rafe's brief appearance at the arrest scene.

"You think...." Blair stopped, then started again. "I really don't like saying this, but do you think he's jealous, that Jim solved the case so fast?"

Simon shook his head automatically. But he stopped, thoughtful, his mind going back to the last few days. "Hard to say. I wouldn't think he would be, but he's been fighting to keep Jim away from the case for days now."

Blair winced. "Man, that sucks. Why would he be jealous of Jim?"

Jim finally turned away from the television as the story ended and a commercial came laring on. He pressed the mute button on the remote and turned to Simon and Blair. "You said Rafe was there investigating?" he asked his roommate.

Blair nodded.

"Oh, man. I didn't know that. I figured he knew it wasn't his assignment anymore." Jim thought back guiltily at the way he'd practically yelled at the younger detective.

"So you ran into him? What happened?"

"He told me he was going in to find some girl." Jim suddenly straightened, his eyes growing wide. "Aw, shit!"

"What?" Blair asked, automatically alerted.

"He knew! He had that case solved. Shit, I didn't even think about it until now."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me he had to find Alicia. I figured he was just chasing some skirt he'd met that day, I even told him that. Told him not to interfere with our case. Damn it. He's the one that caught that witness, had him handcuffed in his car, told me where to find him and then just walked away." Jim glanced over at the tv set. "And there I was gloating like it had all been my brainstorm. This was Rafe's case, Simon. He did it all himself."

Simon frowned. "Huh. What do you know? I'll have to remember to say something to him tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess I should apologize for taking his air time," Jim smiled slightly.

Blair stayed silent, troubled. He remembered Rafe's reaction when Blair told him Simon had taken him off the case- he knew there were layers underneath that were bothering the detective. And then when Rafe had shown up, lip bloodied, completely unemotional....

Blair had the feeling they'd really screwed up. But Jim and Simon had already shrugged it off and moved to the next topic of discussion, so he kept his thoughts to himself, determined to speak to Rafe alone some time the next day.





Henri Brown was watching Jim Ellison mugging for the cameras, not sure how to feel about it. Man, Rafe would get pissed that Jim had weaseled his way into this case, but at least it was over.

And then the phone rang, and his son trotted over to where his father laid on the sofa- sick man's territory, stocked with a drink, snacks, tissues, the remote. Paradise. "Dad, it's that white guy you hang out with."

Henri grinned at his son and took the portable phone. "Rafe? What's up?" This was where Rafe would continue the game he and Henri's son always played, telling Brown to get that little black kid to mind his manners, or something like that.

"You watching the news?" Rafe asked instead.

Henri's grin faded. His partner sounded too flat, stiff. "Yeah. You pissed?"

"About what?"

"Jim coming in to our case."

There was a pause. "Henri, you think I'm a good cop?"

"What?" Henri sat up, surprise. "Where the hell did this come from?"

"Tell me the truth."

Brow furrowed, Henri did as instructed. "Yeah, of course. You're a great cop. You think I'd be partners with just anyone?"

"Simon took us off. He gave Jim the case, this afternoon."

Brown let out a low whistle. No wonder Rafe was having self doubts. Simon actually took him off the case, and Jim had solved it in one night. That wasn't good. Few people knew Rafe as well as Henri did, and Henri knew that deep down, Rafe was one of those contradictions Henri would never understand- looked like a movie star, dressed like a male model, had everything going for him- personality, brains, courage...and yet never felt like he was good enough to deserve anything but indifference. "I'm sorry, man."

Another pause. "Why sorry?"

Rafe sounded too strange, too distant. "That was a shitty thing for Simon to do," Brown elaborated. "Now what's the matter with you?"

"Nuthin. I'll see you in a few days."

"Rafe, hang on!" Too late, there was a quiet noise as Rafe hung up his line.

Henri put the phone down, brow creased. He glanced back over at the tv, but another report was on by then. Suddenly he straightened, sitting up. "Hey, hon?"

"Yeah?" his wife called from the dining room.

"Can't do lunch with your folks tomorrow. I have to go back to work."

She appeared in the doorway after a minute. "Trouble?"

"Yeah," he looked up at her with a frown. "But not the kind you're worried about. Something's wrong with Rafe."

A deeper frown. Rafe had become another member of the family by then, and she showed her concern. "Was he hurt?"

"Sounds like it," Henri replied flatly. "I just have to have a long talk with Simon before I know how bad."





Blair's mind was on what he was going to say to Rafe as he rode the elevator up to Major Crimes the next afternoon. He'd had to run by the U, so Jim had gone to the station himself that morning, and Blair had had time to think about what to say.

When the doors opened into the office, though, his speech flew out of his head.

The place was in disarray.

There were at least three different phones ringing, no one was sitting at their desks. It looked like Brown and Simon were having a shouting match right in the middle of the office, as Jim and Joel stood by tensely.

"-to have been there in the first place!"

Simon was glowering. "Dammit, Brown, this isn't some kind of glory job! We don't fight over who gets credit, or who catches the bad guy. We just make sure they get caught. If you're in this for fame, you should quit and move to Hollywood."

"Don't go there, Simon. Don't deliberately misunderstand what I'm saying here. It isn't about who gets credit, it's about us deserving to see that case through to the-"

"Us who? You were down sick, Rafe had been stuck for days. What did you expect me to do?"

Blair waded in right then, automatically knowing what had brought Henri, still looking a little wiped out, in to the station, and what had caused this fight. "Whoa, guys. Hang on. What's the problem here? It's nothing we can't talk about like normal-"

"Butt out, Hairboy," Brown cut in, moving Blair not gently out of the way.

As they continued bickering, Blair leaned over to Jim. "What started this, man?"

"Rafe didn't show for work today."

"What?" Blair blurted loudly, causing a pause in the argument in front of him. "What happened? Has anyone talked to him?"

"No," Brown answered angrily. "Simon thinks he's at home sulking, but he isn't answering his phone."

"Damn it, Henri, I never said I thought he was sulking. This was a tough case to crack, he hasn't had a day off in weeks. Maybe he just figured he should take one while things were calming down."

"That's bullshit, Simon. Rafe wouldn't do that, and you know it."

Blair wasn't sure what Simon knew, but HE knew Rafe wouldn't do that. The handsome detective was nothing if not devoted. "Has anyone gone by his place?"

"No," Simon answered, his eyes still on Brown.

"Don't you think you should?"

"If he wanted to talk to us, he'd have come in today. Chief. He must be a little more pissed than I thought about this case."

"No," Brown protested. "Even if he was mad, he wouldn't have-"

"No, he wouldn't," Blair agreed. "So maybe something else happened. Rafe did just solve a case involving an unknown number of killers, did anyone stop to think about that? He's the biggest problem Alicia and those frat guys we pulled in have right now. Maybe they saw a way to make their problems disappear."

Brown hesitated. "Shit," he growled suddenly, lunging at his desk and yanking up his keys. "I'm going to his apartment." His eyes dared Simon to argue. "I'll bring him back with me, if he's there."

"I'll come with you," Jim said automatically.

Brown shot him a dangerous look.

"I need to apoligize," Jim explained quietly.

"Yeah." His anger deflating, Brown nodded. "I just don't know why he wouldn't show," he said quietly, as if trying to explain his temper tantrum to Jim.

Understanding perfectly, Jim glanced at Blair before replying. "I know how you feel. Let's go find your partner."







The Night Before-

Rafe hung up the phone with a exhaled breath. Well, that was a waste of time. Henri had only made him feel worse. He'd called hoping to hear Brown go off, hoping he would rail at Simon and Jim, and make Rafe feel better about resenting their intrusion in this case. Instead, he had only offered his sympathy. Told Rafe he was 'sorry'. Not pissed, not outraged, not even mildly surprised. Just sorry.

If Rafe had wanted pity, he would have just sat there with his own miserable thoughts. Self-pity was something he seemed to be really good at lately. He'd wanted to know that someone else thought Rafe was good enough to have handled this on his own, and he had thought his partner would be the one to feel that way.

He didn't know how he'd go in the next day, facing everyone. Knowing they didn't have a clue what he was thinking about the whole thing. They didn't even seem to realize he'd been there at all last night, to go by Ellison's little interview.

He tried to get himself out of this funk, but his emotions didn't seem to want to cooperate.

The worst part, he reflected. The very worst part was Sandburg. No, not Sandburg, cause Rafe liked the grad student as much as he liked anybody. It was the fact that Simon and Jim had been so confident in the Observer's abilities, and so unsure of Rafe's, that they sent him to that party to take over. Not even another police officer, which Rafe would have understood. No, they sent the man who wasn't technically a part of the department to tell Rafe to go home and let the experts handle this.

Man, but that was bad for the ego.

Sitting on the sofa in his silent apartment, thoughts a million miles away, he was suddenly brought back down to earth by a knock on his door.

Shit. He was not in the mood to deal with other people. "What?"

"Hey, Rafe, open up, it's me."

He sat up, confused. It wasn't Henri- he couldn't have gotten there so fast. Maybe Jim or Blair- he didn't seem to recognize the voice, but he wasn't exactly in the best state of mind. So he he stood reluctantly and went to the door. "Look, I'm really not-" He stopped abruptly.

Rob grinned at him. The frat guy's face was showing the bruises from their fight in the parking lot at the campus, but he was out of cuffs and accompanied by three other guys, two Rafe recognized from being with him at that party. "Surprised to see me?"

Rafe let out a breath. Surprised? Not really. What else could make this day worse? "How did you know where I lived?" he asked flatly, actually mildly curious.

Rob grinned and held up a small piece of paper. Rafe's insurance card, the one that he kept in the glove compartment. "You locked me in your car, smart guy."

Briefly wondering if Blair would have done something that stupid, Rafe almost didn't even fight back as the four men forced themselves into his apartment. He was shoved back towards the sofa as one man stood blocking the door, letting Rob and his other two friends explore casually.

"You know, this is a shitty apartment," Rob commented as he looked around. "You cops really get paid dick, don't you?"

Rafe didn't answer.

"And then tonight, that other cop showed up, arrested me. What was that all about, huh? You just passed me off to the next guy that came around?" Rob's voice was mild, hinting at nothing but curiosity. The lack of menace in his voice was belied by his suddenly reaching out and pulling the phone cord out of the wall.

"Something like that," Rafe answered tiredly. "Just tell me what the hell you want and then get out of here."

Rob stopped his explorations. "All right. Here's the deal. Neither you or that big cop you sent can prove anything about us. They let me out cause they didn't have nothing on me, and soon they'll let Alicia out too. But I have the feeling you won't be happy just leaving us alone. So we're gonna take you out of the picture. Make sense?"

"Perfect." Rafe glanced around. The other three men were now watching his every move, waiting for him to fight back. Rob was relaxed, confident he had the situation totally under control. "Did it occur to you," he started, directing his comments to Rob's friends. "That we really don't have anything on you? Alicia would go down, yeah, and whoever else she got to help her kill those girls. But if it wasn't you, you wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Your testimony would have gotten you off with a few months in prison, if even that. But now you're threatening a police officer. You're digging yourselves in deep, guys. Whatever you're thinking of doing- kidnapping me, killing me, it's only gonna put years on your jail time."

"Not if we don't get caught," Rob replied easily.

"And how do you expect not to?"

"Easy. You're gonna vanish, and your cop friends are gonna think it was all your own idea."

Surprise now invaded Rafe's almost unemotional haze. "How are you imagining you're gonna pull that one off?"

"Easy. You're going to leave a note for your buddies, telling them exactly why you're leaving this shitty little town all on your own."

Rafe laughed. "Are you crazy? What makes you think anyone would believe that?"

"Look at this place. Look at what happened tonight. Being a cop's the worst job in the world, man. And you're going to realize that tonight, aren't you?" He gestured at the relatively bare apartment. "You got no pictures up. No family? No ladies? No, you look like you spend every penny you got on those fancy threads. No one's gonna miss you, pal."

Rafe had been thinking that. Trapped in his own self-important little pity party, he'd been thinking exactly what Rob was now saying.

And now that he heard it out loud, he realized what BS it was. He laughed. "You're an idiot if you believe that," he said firmly.

Rob shrugged. "We'll see. If they don't believe it, there's still nothing to connect us to this, is there? Now why don't you make nice and write a little note to your friends?"

Rafe felt like he's wandered into a Monty Python skit or something- it was that absurd. "You really think I'm going to help you out with this scheme of yours?"

"You got no choice, man." Rob glanced over at his friends- two of them approached Rafe from behind.

He could hear them coming. Now determined, he waited until they were right behind him, reaching for his arms, before he jumped, lunging forward, right at Rob.

The two men were caught by surprise and froze for a few valuable seconds, while Rob was equally stunned, allowing Rafe to tackle him easily, bringing him down to the floor hard.

Rafe drove his knee into the student's stomach before standing and facing the other two. "Come on, let's get this over with."

The two glanced at each other, relatively uncertain, before making their move, coming at him at the same time.

Rafe easily blocked the fist the man on the right threw, and almost managed to jump out of the way as the second one simply rammed into him, knocking him off balance. He almost fell, but caught himself on the edge of his sofa, and pushed himself right back at the men. They both dodged his reckless lunge, and he wheeled back around to face them.

He heard sudden footsteps as the man he'd forgotten about, the one guarding the door, came up from behind and tackled him. Reacting before he could think, Rafe locked his knees and bent at the waist. The sudden movement and his own momentum sent the man flying over him and into one of the others.

The one who remained untouched backed off slightly, glancing at his fellow attackers.

Rob staggered up, still clutching his belly. "Alright, man, alright. You've made your point." He stumbled forward, drawing Rafe's attention. "What if we just go? Forget this ever happened?"

Rafe eyed him suspisciously. "You're just going to leave?"

"Sure, man. This was a dumb idea, right?"

"Yeah, it was. I just don't buy you suddenly being smart enough to recognize that."

Rob moved slowly, limping his way to the right, until he was close to the detective. "Look, no need to be rude, huh? I don't care if Alicia goes down. I just don't want to go to prison. My future would be over, you know?"

Rafe knew. Spoiled little rich frat boy, ruined by a dark spot on his permanent record. "You should have thought about that before you helped her kill the two girls who protested your little prostitution ring."

"It's not like that, man, really." Rob glanced over Rafe's shoulder, and his terror faded, replaced by a grin.

Rafe cursed himself, turning a second too late. Rob had stalled Rafe, giving his friends time to recover, and now all four came at the man. Angry...furious, Rafe fought back violently, seething with unreleased anger over everything. Damn it, Simon had been right. Jim and Blair had been right. Brown had been right. He wasn't worth this. He wasn't worth being a part of that department at all. He had done everything wrong- giving Rob a chance to find out where he lived, turning his back on his opponents, buying into Rob's line of crap. So what if he had found Rob, so what if he had been the first to discover Alicia's part in this? Jim and Blair would have figured it out anyway, days ago, if this case had been theirs from the start.

The anger made him fight like a lunatic, throwing punches and struggling with an adrenaline-rushed strength even after he had been knocked to the ground, even after they restrained him, holding him down with noticable effort as he surged again and again, trying to lash out at the only people available he could take out his anger on. Even when his strength faded, his adrenaline and anger kept him struggling, until Rob, tiring rapidly with the effort it took to hold him down, pulled a small pistol out of his belt and put it against the detective's temple.

Rafe seethed, calming down only slightly. "You're gonna do it anyway, right? Pull the damn trigger if you want to."

Rob was obviously taken aback by the man's apparent sincerity, his lack of fear. "Hey, we wanted you to leave a note explaining why you ran off. If you want us to leave you here as your own suicide note, sure, I'll pull the trigger."

Suicide note? The thought made Rafe stiffen, brought his mind back down to earth. Rob would shoot him, and have all the time in the world to make it look like Rafe had done it himself.

He may not be as good or deserving as he had thought he was, but he wasn't gonna let it end like that. He wouldn't let his...-friends?- over in Major Crimes think of him that way. "What do you want from me?" he asked finally.

Rob heard the defeat in his voice and grinned. His friends relaxed, releasing the detective wearily. Rob took a careful step back, out of Rafe's range, in case he surged up again and tried to get his gun. "You write what I tell you to write, and we're gonna take a drive. That's it, man."

Rafe stared at the gun, debating his chances of reaching Rob and the weapon before he could pull the trigger. But Rob was alert now, tense, looking like if Rafe even sneezed he'd blow him away.

"What do you want me to write?"





"This is bullshit!" Brown paced Simon's office endlessly, his eyes going back over and over to the sheet of paper on Simon's desk, the one he had taken from Rafe's apartment.

"Brown, ease up. Whatever happened, you wearing holes in my floor won't solve anything."

Henri wheeled, stopping in his tracks to face his captain. "You believe that, don't you?" He asked angrily, pointing at the note.

Simon released a breath. "I don't know, Henri," he replied honestly. "He'd been acting strange."

"I know, I know. Jim kept saying that. I know he's been acting strange. He called me."

"When? What did he say?"

"Nothing important. He did say he'd see me in a few days. Simon, I don't care how upset he was, he wouldn't do this, he wouldn't walk out on me, or on this department."

"Even if he thought we'd already abandoned him?" Simon's voice was low, even somewhat guilty. He had driven Rafe to this, he had no doubt. Pushing for Jim's involvement in that case, taking him off for no really good reason. But what else could he do? How could he have explained that he wanted Jim on the case because he saw things that no other human could see? That he could find things no one else would even have been able to detect?

Thinking back on it now, he saw it from Rafe's point of view, and realized how shitty it truly was.

"No. Nothing you or Jim could have done would make him run off." Brown glanced out the door. Jim and Blair sat at Jim's desk, talking in low tones. Blair had his hand on Jim's neck, Jim had his eyes closed, looking like he was trying to concentrate on something. Brown turned back to the captain. "I know him, Simon."

"I know, I know. What do you think might have happened?"

Brown shrugged and fell into a chair heavily. "Maybe what Blair suggested. Maybe those frat kids came back for revenge."

Simon shook his head slightly. "I don't know. Why would they have gone after Rafe? Even if he was the one who found them out, Jim was the one who made the arrests, Jim was the one on television talking about it. It would have made more sense to go after him."

"Yeah? Maybe someone saw past Jim showing off, to who really did all the work." Henri retorted angrily.

"That's enough, Brown. Look, I said we were sorry about everything. There were some big misunderstandings here, and there's nothing we can do about that now. We can't even apologize until we find Rafe."

The door to Simon's office flew open suddenly. "Simon! There were-" Jim stopped abruptly. "Uh, H, could you excuse us for a minute?"

"This have something to do with Rafe?"

"Yeah, but it's not-"

"I'll stay." Henri answered firmly.

Jim frowned, but turned back to Simon, now searching for how to say what he wanted, not wanting to give himself away in front of Henri. "Simon, Rafe was snatched, I'm sure of it."

Simon sat up. "You positive, Jim?"

"Absolutely. At least three other men were in that apartment with him. There was a lot of adrenaline, but I figured it must have been Rafe's, I thought he must have just been really pissed off. But now I'm sure. Blair got me to focus on it, and-" he stopped again, remembering Henri.

Brown was staring at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Uh, doesn't matter," Simon cut in. "How do we find out who these guys were?"

"Wait a minute. This is a load of crap. I sit here for an hour trying to convince you Rafe didn't run off, you don't buy it. Ellison comes in babbling about adrenaline, you listen to that? What the hell is going on here, Simon?"

Simon and Jim exchanged dark looks. "Nothing I can talk about, H."

Brown looked between the two of them, feeling their discomfort, and his eyes skirted over to Blair, who stood in the doorway, biting his lip and looking as tense as they did. He and Rafe had always joked about how Simon, Jim, and Blair acted like they were constantly sharing some secret, but he'd be damned if that wasn't the case now.

"Look, just tell me there's a reason. A really GOOD reason why you put Jim into this case, and why you're listening to him now. I mean, something really important. Just tell me it isn't some kind of bizarre favoritism."

"It's not, Brown, really." Simon spoke up. "If we could say anything, we would, I promise."

"But you can't." Brown blew out a breath. "Fine. Forget it. Let's just find Rafe."

Simon studied him silently for a minute. This was getting ridiculous. This secret, the whole Sentinel thing, it was getting noticed by his other detectives, and it was starting to interfere with the cohesion of the department. He would have to have a long talk with Jim and Blair about that- they had to figure out how to stop it from happening. But later. "Alright. Jim, what do you think?"

Blair wandered over to Simon's desk and picked up the note, reading it for the first time as Jim answered.

"Alright, I'd say at least three of them came in sometime after midnight. Rafe put up a fight, but they got the best of him. They forced him to write this note."

Blair's eyes widened suddenly, and he handed the note to Jim. "Hey, look at his. Down here at the bottom, feel that. Feel anything strange?"

Jim raised his eyebrows, but did as he was told, hesitant about putting on a display of his senses with Henri in the room. But if Blair had felt it, no reason why he wouldn't either.

He glanced at the words. Somewhere in the midst of the rambling, self-pitying diatribe Rafe had left, he talked about how this job had robbed him of a better future.

Jim's eyes narrowed as he felt what Blair must have been talking about. He studied the sentence. One word, one word was darker than the others, had been pressed much more firmly into the paper than the rest. One word that began with a capital letter where it should have been lower case.

Robbed.

Jim looked up, turning to Simon. "What was the name of that guy Rafe caught, the one they let out last night due to lack of evidence?"

Simon glanced at the file on his desk. "Ummm...Robert Jackson."

"Rob." Jim and Blair exchanged excited looks. "That's who grabbed him."





It took them no time at all to track Robert Jackson and his buddies to a spot in the forests outside of Cascade, a spot where the frat Rob belonged to gathered every now and then, just to seem that much more mysterious.

It took hardly any more time for them to have the students subdued, and to track Rafe to where he had been tied up and abandoned in an old, closed-up mine entrance.

Rafe acted happy to see them, and why shouldn't he? Once Jim and Simon explained how they had realized how much he had done to solve that case, and how sorry they were, any remaining tension between the Mjor Crimes officers seemed to be dissolved.

Rafe let it happen. He pasted the smile to his face, accepted the mother-hen ministrations of his partner on his scrapes and bruises, and laughed easily at Jim and Blair's constant rapport as they drove back to the city to take Rafe home. He was back to normal, everything was back to normal, by all appearances.

He didn't let on how much this entire case had shattered his way of viewing himself. No, why would they want to know that? Why would Brown want to hear that the man he had to trust his life to was having trouble believing he was up to the job? Why should Blair and Jim have to listen to Rafe's empty accusations and selfish emotions?

No, he shut his mouth and returned to work the next day, bright and early as usual, dressed in his sharpest outfit, and ready to take on the world. Simon announcing that Rob's friends had given a full confession made him cringe, but internally. He didn't want to be reminded of the last few days. Rob was nothing but an example of how ineffective he was at this job. The entire case was a shining example of how far Rafe had to go before he was up to the level of his fellow officers.

Brown had pitied him, showing Rafe how much everyone was aware of his own limitations. And Jim and Blair had rescued him, which only made everything ten times worse.

But he grinned and laughed and went out into the field. He didn't tell them anything he was thinking.

And he never would.