Kinks in the System


by Lucy

This is a very dark story; It's got character rape and disease and all kinds of bad stuff in it. If you don't want it, it's cool. This is very stand-alone. :-)

Due to its length this story has been cut in half.
Go to Part 2 now.


Rafe Van Rij was a good-looking guy.

Sure, he was just a shmoe cop. There were better looking fellas out there, no doubt. There were ladies in the world who actually preferred Blair Sandburg's skinny bod to him, for instance. But he didn't worry too much. He always had someone to gaze at across a candlelit table, so he was set.

More than set. Confident, secure, in fact he hardly ever thought about it anymore. He was used to the too-long-to-be-casual gazes from women -- and men, occasionally -- when he walked down the street. It was natural to him.

But sometimes it didn't pay to be considered cute.

This was one of those times.

"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?!?!?!"

The entire Major Crimes ofice stopped dead and turned attention to Simon Banks' office. A shout coming from there was not at all uncommon, but when Jim Ellison was sitting out at his desk calm as anyone else, and there was still shouting, it was time to scope out the scene.

The door to Banks' office flew open and Rafe stormed out, his face red. "No way, man. No way in hell." He stomped through the room, stopping and wheeling when he reached Jim Ellison and his partner. "You!" He pointed an accusing finger at the two men. "This is all your fault."

The elevator door chose to open at that moment, expelling another man in to Major Crimes. "Rafe! What the hell, man? I could hear you from two stories down."

"Henri, where the hell have you been?" Rafe's angry visage spun to his partner.

Henri Brown froze. "Whoa. What's up, partner? What's with the devil eyes, man?"

Rafe gestured back at Simon's office angrily. "Why don't you ask him. Or them!" His finger of doom pointed back at Ellison and Sandburg. "I'm going to...the bathroom. I need to throw a sink." He brushed past his partner and out of sight.

Brown stood there for a moment. Blinked. Turned to the two pairs of blue eyes that were still staring. "All right. I'll bite. What exactly has happened in the two minutes I left to get a coke?"

"Man, we don't have a clue. Rafe went to talk to Simon, a minute later he was freaking out." Blair Sandburg's eyes turned curiously to the office where Simon Banks stood framed in the doorway. "What's up, Captain?"

Simon glanced around the office, and saw that the three men who looked at him questioningly were the only people in the room. Rhonda must have used her lunch break to go buy that software for her new computer, and Joel was on a well-deserved four-day weekend. He came further into the room and perched on the side of Joel's unoccupied desk. "Alright, here's the deal. Ellison, you remember that guy you put away for the serial rapes out at Rainier? Jason Willis?"

Jim nodded slowly. That wasn't a fun case. Almost a month had gone by, and he still had trouble with some of the memories. This hadn't been a standard rapist. The victims Jim had to interview were not frightened young women. They were healthy, fit young men. Jim saw Blair Sandburg in too many of the six faces that he eventually interviewed, and it was hard. He had developed a few ulcers letting Blair go to the campus at all during the week they knew the man was still out there, he just knew it. "What about it?"

"Willis has been seeing some kind of counselor on the inside. He's made a statement to the woman, and she asked if she could send it to us, he said all right." Simon frowned and looked at the three men in turn. "Turns out Willis was taking part in some kind of initiation."

"What?" Brown came forward a few steps, dropping down into his own chair. "You mean he was attacking those men..."

"Apparently to get into some high-blown underground group. I don't know anything about this sort of thing, but apparently there's a club downtown, Legends-"

Jim grimaced. "I've been there. It's an overblown gay bar." He heard Blair's small noise of protest at his lack of tact, but didn't address it. "Real kinky stuff. Leather- and chains-type people."

"You've been there?" Blair asked in surprise.

Simon nodded. "Jim went undercover for a night, before you came around."

Blair tried to contain his smile, but it was impossible.

"What the hell are you smirking at?" Jim grumbled.

Blair held in his laughter, trying to school his expression. "Oh, just contemplating what you would have worn for something like that."

The mental image of Jim Ellison in tight black leather pants with a whip in his hand, dancing to the Village People, sipping red drinks with umbrellas, and trying to blend in with the gang at Legends, made Blair lose his control and burst into waves of laughter.

Brown tried to stay serious, for the sake of his absent partner, but he'd been there- he knew first hand what Jim had worn. He started guffawing along with the long-haired student.

Jim glared at them. That had been one night of his life he had been happy to put in the past. He'd made everyone involved, including Simon and Brown, swear never to mention it again. But, to be fair, he had brought it up. God, why the hell had he brought it up? He sent his glare Simon's way.

The captain met his eyes, but his serious look remained as the other two laughed away.

It was the solemn look in those dark eyes that made Jim's anger fade, replaced by curiosity. "What's the story, Simon?"

The captain sent warning looks at Brown and Blair, and they slowly both got themselves back under control. "Legends is the front operation for this group Willis was trying to join. Apparently they run the club, watch the regulars, and try and find promising initiates, like Willis, that they can recruit. Willis said he was the first to be asked in a long time."

"So what's with this group? What's the scheme behind all this?"

"It's a sex ring," Simon stated plainly. "Willis said he was told there was a group in most major cities, and Cascade is one of the lucky chosen. Their members are mostly affluent, young, white men, and they trade themselves around to different...sugar daddies, around the country. It's a thrill thing, nothing else. It's all about sex and money."

Brown's laughter vanished from his eyes as he thought back to the source of the conversation. A dark look growing on his face, he spoke slowly. "Simon. What -- exactly -- does this have to do with Rafe?"

Simon saw the alarm that immediately appeared on the other two men's faces, and he sighed. "Exactly what you think. I want Rafe to get himself initiated."

"WHAT?!?" Brown shot out of his chair, looking as furious as his best friend had been.

"Brown! Shut up and listen!" Simon waited until the younger man had control over himself before continuing. "The feds are all over this case. Once this group started sending it's rapists and attackers across state lines, the FBI took over. But they haven't had much luck. Seems these people can smell an undercover feeb a mile away. So they're looking to the police for help. Ironic, huh?" He flashed a tight smile, but it faded when it wasn't returned. "All right, listen, this stinks, I know. But they came to us because of Willis, and they chose Rafe because...well, he's the best option we have. THEY chose Rafe, okay?" Simon paused. "No one in vice really fit the image, Jim, you've gone undercover there before, and we can't afford to risk it. Blair, you were someone they considered, but-"

"No way in holy hell would I even consider letting Sandburg get within a hundred feet of these sons of bitches."

Simon continued as if Jim hadn't spoke. "-but I told them there might be internal problems with that. And they couldn't actually get authority to send a civilian in, no matter how high up they went. Rafe's perfect. He's the right age, has the right look. He'll be the best chance we have."

"So...what? What exactly is it you want him to do?"

"Well, he'll have to start by spending some nights at that club. Then, if he gets approached, we'll wire him and watch him, stay glued. I promise, Brown, we'll stay glued to him every second. Jim, Blair, this is top priority right now. This is the FBI we're talking about, and you know how they are. You two will be in on this too, as support. Blair, we may have to send you to the club the first few nights with Rafe, to help him get the image across."

Sandburg blinked at him. "You want me to go as Rafe's date. To a kinky gay sex club."

"No, to a bar. With a dance floor. It's not like you'll be asked to have sex in the middle of the crowd, come on."

Sandburg stayed quiet, but exchanged a long look with Jim. Simon knew he'd hear more about this later.

"You said you wanted him to actually get initiated. How the hell do you think he's going to do that?" Brown's voice was still cold- Simon's reassurances hadn't done much.

"We'll work it out. Willis says all the initiations are different. He probably wouldn't be asked to actually attack anyone-"

"You think," Brown interrupted.

"We'll work it out," Simon repeated firmly. "We can hire local actors, or use vice officers. We'll fake the crimes. It doesn't matter. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"And what happens if, by some miracle, everything works out and he gets in?"

"We have to wait until he's actually sent across state lines, and then that's it. We've got em."

Brown stared at Simon for a long moment, then stood slowly. "I think I have a sudden urge to go to the bathroom," he stated flatly, turning and walking out the door.

Simon was left with Jim and Blair, and the three men were silent for a long moment.

Jim spoke up finally. "Simon. I've been a cop for a long time. I've gotten some shitty assignments in my life. I mean, the things I've gone through because of this department..." He shook his head. "It's incredible. But I have to say that this is one of the worst things I've ever heard you even consider putting one of your officers through. And I think I'm going to join Brown in the bathroom." He stood and turned on his heel.

Blair watched him go, then turned back to Simon, who was watching the door with a hooded expression on his face.

In the silence, Simon's eyes went to the observer. "Well? Your turn."

Blair was thoughtful. "This sucks, Simon. Everything about this sucks. But I'll do whatever you need. And I think Rafe will, too."

Simon's surprise showed in his voice. "And what makes you say that?"

"Rafe's sister was dating one of the guys that got attacked by Willis. He knows first hand what it is we have to put a stop to."

Simon's eyes grew. "Why didn't he tell me that?"

Blair nodded at the door. "I think, in his own way, he did."

Simon met the younger man's eyes for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Yes, Rafe would do it. No matter what Jim and Henri told him. Any of them would, if it was their turn. They were all devoted to their job, to serving and protecting. They weren't just words, not to these men. And Simon hated it sometimes, asking them to do things like this. But he would. He had no choice either.

"This sucks." He echoed Blair's sentiments whole-heartedly as he turned and went back into his office, needing a few minutes alone.





Blair thanked whatever spirits were listening, every day, that they had let him find Jim Ellison. The man had become his best friend, the brother he'd never had, the stability and family he had always wanted. He was both his Blessed Protector and a guy to go out with after work for a few beers. He was best friend, Sentinel... everything Blair had ever wanted to fill the void in his life.

But right now, he was a real pain in the ass.

"I mean, I thought I looked bad," Jim Ellison was still giggling, wiping tears from his eyes that remained from his hysteria as Blair had left the safety of his bedroom a minute ago. "I really thought when I was going undercover at that club, I looked as ridiculous as it was possible for me to look. But you, Chief. Leave it to you to go one step further,"

Blair glared. It wasn't often he did that- he was a mellow spirit, more or less, and usually was able to calm himself out of feelings of hostility. Maybe it was the clothes, blocking his mental energies or something, but he was ready to slap his best friend. "Jim, let it go. It's so not funny anymore."

Jim nodded slowly, schooling himself. He opened his mouth to give his whole-hearted agreement, but the laughter bubbled out of him again before he could help it.

Blair shifted uncomfortably. Not like what was going to happen tonight was enough- he had to deal with this.

All right, so he looked a little...different. So the black leather shorts that threatened to ride up where the sun didn't shine may have been a little out there, and the matching vest that finished off the rather limited outfit wasn't something he would have picked off the rack. So what? He shouldn't have to deal with this.

Blair sighed and turned to the mirror, checking himself out once again, repressing the cruel wish that this was just a dream, that he wasn't really about to be picked up by a fellow detective and taken to a seedy gay bar to spend a few hours.

But suddenly a smile appeared on his face. The shorts really were too much. Well, no, they were too little. He'd seen bathing suits that covered more, and showing off his legs wasn't something Blair was too fond of doing. With his hair back in a ponytail and black boots on his feet, he looked like every stereotypical leather-man he'd ever seen. And hanging out with Naomi, he'd seen a lot. Amazing the types of people she knew everywhere, he reflected. Of course, knowing them- and paying a visit to a few sympathetic friends of his- had given him the right idea of how to dress for the night.

He started giggling uncontrollably, and found himself thinking that at least he'd remembered to hide Jim's camera before he went in to dress a few miuntes ago.

"When's Rafe getting here?" Blair asked before he could start laughing out loud, spurring Jim on.

"Uh." The Sentinel glanced at his watch. "Any minute now." And finally the laughter faded from the man's eyes. "I hate this, Sandburg."

"YOU hate this??" He looked down at himself meaningfully.

"You know what I mean," Jim replied.

And Blair did. "I know, man, but come on. Rafe will be there with me, and that guy Willis said this group never tags people on their first time in. He went for weeks before anyone could approach him."

"Weeks, huh?" Jim's smile returned slightly.

"Don't even go there, man. Rafe promised me he'd get me out after a few nights."

"Does Simon realize this?"

Blair sat himself gingerly, wondering briefly how high those shorts could crawl up...no, don't think about it. In with the positive, out with the negative. "I doubt it. Then he'd have to tell that Agent Miller guy, and he'd get in trouble. Rafe's doing this himself."

Jim frowned. "Simon won't like that. He won't like dealing with Miller any more than he has to."

"I don't think Rafe cares much what Simon thinks right now."

"Still mad, huh?"

"Mad dosn't begin to cover it. Henri told me he's been spending a lot of time with Margo and her boyfriend- the one who got attacked by Willis? I think he's taking this whole thing really personally."

There was a knock on the door, and Jim glanced over at Blair. "Looks like your date's here."

"Hardy har." Blair grumbled as he slowly, carefully stood himself. God, these things were uncomfortable. How did those guys stand wearing them, day after day?

Jim went to the door and swung it open, and a ball of energy moved from the hallway into the apartment.

"Jim! Evening. Hi, Blair. Well, you do look....nice. Are you ready? We've got time to stop by that diner next door to the club. I'm starving, I didn't get dinner. So when should I have him back, Jim? Is assume you've given him some kind of curfew."

Jim and Blair watched the man with surprise. Rafe was...well, he was perky. Smiling, cheerful, he actually looked like he could be swinging by to pick up a date to go out for a good time. And he was sure dressed the part.

The FBI man, Miller, had given Simon strict instructions on how Rafe was to present himself. Since this group was mostly well-off, handsome white men, Rafe was by no means to go in as just another leather-fan. He was dressed in an FBI-approved outfit, which consisted of normal khaki pants and a black, skintight, short-sleeved designer shirt.

No, he wasn't the freak. Blair was. At least, that's how he couldn't help comparing himself to the handsomely-dressed man he was supposed to be seen with.

Jim had stopped Rafe in his fast-moving tracks. "Alright, Rafe, let's go over a few key rules."

The younger man grinned. "Come on, Jim. We've been through this with the Feds, with Simon, with the Feds again. I've been through it with Brown, and I'm sure Blair's been through it with you. You may find this hard to believe, but we're adults, and we don't exactly need you to keep telling us how to be responsible. Blair might not be an official police officer, but I am. Or have you forgotten?"

Jim held up a hand in surrender. Rafe was exerting barely-controlled energy even standing there, and Jim released the man before he started twitching. "I just want you to be careful, alright?"

"No problem. I swear, you're as bad as Henri. And I didn't think anyone was as bad as H when he's in Mother-Hen mode."

The familiar expression made Blair grin. So...maybe the entire Blessed Protector thing was completely Sentinel-related after all. "Let's just go. I want to get this over with and change into some jeans as soon as humanly possible."

"Huh," Rafe voiced his agreement, looking at the grad student in sympathy. "You kinda got the short end of the costuming, Blair. No pun intended. Sorry. But you won't have to worry about it for long."

"Hey, about that, Rafe. Blair told me you were planning on getting him out of-"

"Oh, not now, Jim. We've got places to go, people to fool." Rafe bounded over to the door. "Coming, dear?" he shot Blair a wicked smile and opened the door chivalrously.

Sandburg's eyes closed briefly. This wasn't going to be fun. "Yeah, yeah."

Jim walked him over to the door. "Remember, if I don't see or hear from you by two, I'm calling Simon."

"Two?" Rafe gave him a dismayed look. "Man, who comes home by two? That's when the night really starts."

Jim frowned at the detective. Was Rafe putting up some kind of a front, to hide how all this was really affecting him? He wasn't normally this irresponsible. "Remember, Blair," Jim stared at his partner.

"I know, Jim. Two. Don't worry." Blair gave him a reassuring smile before maneuvering his way out the door.

Rafe gave Jim a last grin before shutting the door.

But Jim heard every word as, going towards the stairs, Rafe let out a huge sigh. "Why is everyone making this so much harder than it has to be?" He suddenly sounded very tired.

Blair's voice floated up to Jim, who knew his Guide knew he was probably listening to every word. "Hey, they're all just worried about you."

"Me? Please. Jim would be sitting by the tube watching the game and not thinking about a thing if you weren't involved, Blair."

Jim frowned. Did Rafe really think that? That Jim's concern was only for Blair?

"That's not true. Jim would never-" His voice was suddenly lost as the two men must have bypassed the stairs and gone into the elevator.

Jim sighed, making his way back to the couch and his thoughts. Rafe's statement bothered him. A lot of things about tonight bothered him.

Hmm. Maybe...well, Simon didn't specifically tell him not to go and keep an eye on the place, right? Well, okay, he did. But what if Jim didn't go to the club, per se? Maybe he just...yeah, all of the sudden, sitting there, Jim developed a sudden urge for greasy diner food. And he knew of one place downtown, next to a certain disreputable joint, that served grease in everything, including the coffee. So he was just hungry, just going to the diner. That was all.

And if he should just happen to stay until two in the morning, well, who's to say he wasn't just ...VERY hungry?





"This stinks," Blair commented as he stared at the dark, unmarked building next to the diner he and Rafe had just come out of.

"Come on, Blair. Happy face, remember? We gotta look like we belong."

"No, man. I mean, it really stinks. What is that?"

The other man laughed. "Oh, that. I think it's coming from behind the diner."

Blair grimaced. "Man, and you just ate their food?"

Rafe shrugged. "You gotta die of something, Sandburg."

Blair decided quickly that he would make nothing of that last remark, and turned a huge, fake smile to Rafe. "Well, shall we?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Rafe grabbed his arm suddenly and hooked his own around it. "Gotta make this look natural. Relax, Sandburg. Just pretend I'm that blonde that started down in forensics last week."

Blair and Rafe exchanged a grin, and the grad student felt himself relaxing slightly. Hey, why not? He was going to have to get through this night, why not try and enjoy it? "Alright, honey, let's go."

"Lead on, girlfriend."

Blair laughed and the two men made a beeline for the front door of the club. He made sure to look excited and happy- the cover was that Blair had dragged Rafe- his boyfriend- out to this new club. That way Rafe could look properly decent without sticking out, and Blair's presence was justified.

Rafe paused right outside the door, for a brief second losing his grin to take a deep breath, then reached out and jerked the door open.

Music filled the air, music so loud Blair knew the people at the diner could hear it clearly. Something fast, techno. Just what he didn't need right now. But he pasted the smile on and went in, leading Rafe and looking around as though this place was nirvana.

"I can't see a thing," he said to Rafe, gesturing around happily.

"Me either. Maybe it's better further in," Rafe replied, returning the smile with the proper small amount of apprehension.

They went through the dark hallway, pushed aside a small curtain-

And froze, gaping.

"So this is Legends," Blair commented finally, not even bothering to shout over the noise, knowing it didn't matter if Rafe heard or not.

The place was still dark, but illuminated here and there with moving flecks of light. The club was packed- crammed wall to wall with men, young, old, dressed hundreds of different ways. The majority were dressed like Sandburg, in the tight leather, but a lot of them were more normal, looking like they'd come out just to watch the show. In every corner were people, talking, dancing, kissing...Blair didn't want to look any closer than that. There was a bar stretching from the front wall where Blair and Rafe stood to whatever hidden back there was to the place.

A huge dance floor was illuminated by spinning red and blue lights, and above their heads was a small upper floor, where several men, all well-dressed, chatted with drinks in hand, eyeing the lower floor.

"All right, Blair, you're on," Rafe leaned in close to say it so Blair could hear.

"Right." Blair stopped his examination and grabbed Rafe's hand, tugging him forward towards the bar. "Come on, man, this place is the greatest," he shouted behind him as he pushed through the crowds.

Rafe ignored the stares that followed them- maybe it was just Blair they were looking at. Sure. Why not? "I don't know, Blair. This is kinda..."

"Oh, come on. Stop being such a dildo."

Rafe's eyes widened in surprise.

Blair laughed quietly as they reached the bar. "Sorry, it just came out." He quickly flagged down a bartender and ordered two drinks as Rafe stood back and watched the people around them. "Sit down, babe," Blair patted the stool next to him.

Rafe almost grimaced, but caught himself, sitting down quickly.

As Blair turned to pay for the drinks, one of the staring men approached slowly. "Hey, hon. Wanna dance?" he asked Rafe almost timidly.

"Uhh." Rafe glanced over at Blair for assistance, but he seemed occupied. Suddenly he shrugged mentally. If he was going to do this more times than once, he'd have to do more than just sit there. "Sure, why not?"

The man grinned and held out a hand. Rafe took it slowly and followed him out to the dance floor. Rafe turned back once to make sure Blair was aware of where he was going, and he saw the observer's eyes on him, a crooked smile on his face. Rafe shrugged with a grin, which Blair returned before he was pulled into the crush of moving bodies and out of his sight.

Rafe had to admit it was fun out there. Once he got over the fact that there were no women in sight, he just relaxed and enjoyed the dance. He'd always loved dancing- Brown had brought that out in him, taking him to all kinds of strange clubs and introducing him to all kinds of strange women.

When he finally returned to the bar, waving amiably at the man who'd first asked him, he was flushed and grinning.

Blair was talking with some man beside him at the bar, moving his hands around in animated conversation.

Rafe grinned. So Blair was okay. Good. He slowed his pace, his eyes going to the upper level of the building. There were about eight or nine men up there, all watching the floor, somewhere near him.

His steps faltered when he realized suddenly that the eyes of every one of the men was following him as he moved.

For an awkward moment, Rafe stared at the strange men as they stared back. Then, remembering his cover, he threw a flirtatious smile up towards them.

Only one of the men responded to it at all, smiling back. The rest stayed still, watching him without expression.

Uh oh.

His thoughts going a mile a minute, Rafe lowered his eyes and returned to the stool Blair had saved for him. Could this be happening so soon?

No, no. Don't jump to conclusions. Those men up there didn't necessarily belong to this group he was after. And just because they seemed to be watching him didn't mean anything- he'd specifically dressed to stick out, to call attention to all his best features. He recognized that he was getting stared at in all directions. But something about those men and their lack of response...

His intuition was flaring. Maybe they had been watching him, and maybe they were part of this group he was after. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean anything.

He sat and grabbed the drink melting on the bar where Blair had left it for him, and his eyes wandered back to the upper levels.

The men were gone.

It didn't mean anything, he told himself firmly.

Yes it did. He didn't know what, but he was certain it meant something. He had to get...no, not help. He couldn't just go to a pay phone and call the cops. Besides, if he panicked so early in the game, he'd be an easy mark for those men.

Maybe he could call Henri.

No, not after the eight phone calls the last hour before Rafe had left his apartment. Brown was worried enough about all this, no need to bring him running. And anyway, Brown would stand out like a very heterosexual sore thumb in a place like this.

So he'd sit and wait, see if they played a hand tonight.

Blair's waving arms grabbed his attention sudenly, and he groaned. He had to get the kid out of there, if nothing else. Jim would go psycho if he told him he'd had suspicions about the group making an early play and had let Blair hang around. Besides, the kid wasn't a cop, he couldn't be allowed to...

All right, Rafe, stop sitting here like a lump and do something before someone gets suspiscious.

He tapped Blair on the shoulder.

"-and iffeminate behavior can -- hang on, babe -- mean anything, really. I mean, the Spartans used to comb out each other's hair before battle, and they were the greatest warriors of their time."

"Blair?"

"What?" Blair turned to him finally.

Rafe leaned in close. "Did I ever tell you I took acting classes in college?"

Blair blinked. "What?"

Suddenly Rafe shot out of his seat, his face contorted in anger. "I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?"

The few men close to them glanced over at the sudden raised voice.

Blair's brow clouded in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you and this...thing over here. I go dance for five minutes, and you're hanging all over the first loser you see."

The man Blair had been talking to, a nice-enough looking man maybe forty years old, cleared his throat slightly, but saw the rage on Rafe's face and didn't bother defending himself.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked in a hiss, standing up slowly.

"I can't handle this anymore. I thought maybe you'd stop screwing around with anything on two legs once we were together, but you just can't, can you? Damn it, Blair, I've had enough!"

Realizing that for whatever reason it was, Rafe was putting on a show for someone, Blair forced anger into his own features. "Yeah? Well, look, maybe you're just too slow for me, alright? It's not like we're married or aything. Jesus."

Rafe slapped Blair, so loudly that the sound echoed and shut up more nearby conversations. "You slut! get the hell out of my sight."

Blair's hand flew up to his cheek. The slap had been loud, but hardly hurt enough to cause him to react the way he knew he was supposed to. "What did you call me?" he asked, only half-faking his shock. This whole thing had taken him by surprise.

"You heard me. You're not worth this aggravation, Blair."

"You tell her, girl!" a voice from the crowd shouted out suddenly.

"Get out of here. Go find one of your other boyfriends and shack up with him for the night."

Blair realized a cue when he heard one. For some reason, Rafe had moved up the schedule, phasing him out of the picture already. Knowing he couldn't exactly argue with him about the move with all the eyes that were on them, he straightened indignantly. "Whatever you want, man. I was just in this for the money, anyway."

"What?"

"You heard me," Blair sneered as he threw Rafe's words back at him. "You rich pricks are a dime a dozen, babe. I'm outta here," He wheeled and headed for the door, the crowds parting in front of him, feeling people's eyes on him as he went down to that dark hallway. He felt bad about leaving Rafe alone, but knew he'd had no choice- this had been Rafe's call, not his.

He stepped out into the fresh air and breathed out, inhaling the fresh air with relief. He hadn't realized how oppressive the air had been in that place until then.

The door opened behind him and another man came out. "Nice night," the stranger said casually.

Blair glanced over at him, remembering to keep up his act. "Yeah, whatever."

The man, a young blonde, smiled slightly. "I saw you fighting with your boyfriend. Pretty harsh."

"That guy's not my boyfriend, man."

"Really? He a nice guy?"

Blair turned raised eyebrows to him. "Why you asking?"

He shrugged. "He's gorgeous."

Blair didn't have to hide the smirk that comment inspired. "He's public property now, you can have him."

"You said he was rich, huh? What's he doing in a place like this?"

Blair was definitely getting suspiscious. "I brought him here. Thought he might have a good time."

The door opened behind the two men, and a couple of others came out. The man he'd been talking to glanced back at them and nodded slightly.

Blair realized he was in trouble at the same moment one of the men behind him reached outand gripped him on the shoulder. "Whoa, what's going on here?"

"Why don't you come on back in?" The third suggested without any pretense at politeness.

"Why would I want to do that?"

The friendly stranger he'd been chatting with smiled grimly. "We'd like to get to know your boyfriend a little better, and you're just the man to help."

Blair saw the three coming in closer, and felt a familiar sinking feeling. Only him, he thought to himself as the larger man pulled him by his arm back inside the door. Only he could get in trouble being sent away from danger.





Jim Ellison waited impatiently in his truck until Rafe and Blair left to enter the club, and he climbed out of his truck, heading for the bright lights of the diner.

A car pulled up near his parked truck, and he recognized the dark windows and black exterior. he slowed, changing direction, a small smile on his face.

Henri Brown got out, echoing his sheepish smile. "Hey, Jim. They know you're here?"

"No idea. You?"

"Nope."

They shared a chuckle. "How about a greasy cheeseburger and fries?"

Brown grinned, seeing the diner. "Sounds perfect. No offense, man, but I don't even want to try to look like your date."

Jim grimaced as they went together to the small restaurant. "No problem. I got enough of that place three years ago."

"So," Brown said as they went in, a grin growing on his face. "What did Hairboy decide to wear for his trip to Legends?"

Jim laughed. "Let's talk over food, man. I'll tell you the whole story."

They sat for a long time. Jim had to admit to himself he was glad Brown showed up. It made the time pass, having someone to talk to, and though both men spent most of their time watching the doorway of the club, they were each made a little calmer by the other's presence.

When Jim saw Blair storming out the door, he sat up straight. "There he is."

Brown tensed, watching Blair stand quietly for a moment, and then start a conversation with a guy who came out after him. "Where's Rafe? What the hell's going on here?"

"Shhh," Jim focused his hearing, carefully filtering out the sounds of the few diners around him and conentrating only on his partner.

By the time the men were leading Blair back inside, Jim was halfway acros the parking lot and running towards Legends. Brown was close on his tail, overcoming his surprise at Jim's sudden move, his concern for his own partner driving his movements.

Jim went in without a thought- so he might blow this investigation for the feds, so what? There were more cities out there than Cascade.

"Jim, wait up." Brown put on a burst of speed and caught up with him right as he brushed past a flimsy curtain and into the club itself. He stopped and gazed at the interior with wide eyes, but rapidly contained himself and joined Jim in scanning the interior for Blair or Rafe.

Blair would have been proud of Jim, as he immediately tuned out the multitudes of sounds, sights, and smells, focusing for one familiar heart beat, two familiar faces. The heart beat came through after a moment of scanning, far away and moving fast. "Shit."

"I don't see them," Brown said anxiously after a moment.

Jim was turning when a movement above his head caught his eye. "There's Rafe!"

Brown followed his gaze. There was his partner, walking with two other men, talking relatively comfortably. "We've got to get up there."

"Split up, look for stairs or a door." Jim immediately went off, not waiting to see if Brown followed his direction. He barrelled through the crowds of men, the glare of concentration both stopping any protests and stopping anyone from approaching him. He'd never had to deal with the top floors when he was there before- he simply had to catch one suspect and go home, easy enough. Now he regretted not being more thorough.

His eyes went upwards for a moment, and he paused. Rafe and the two men were still in sight, but standing still, talking. Jim could see tension in the air as Rafe jerked away from the wandering arm of one man.

"Brown!" Jim bellowed, turning around. But the detective had followed his instructions- he was now halfway around the wall on the other side of the room, out of range of hearing over the thunderous music. Damn it. Jim went back to scanning the walls.

His hearing was filtering out the music, but nothing else. He heard the endless conversations around him, the innuendos and flirtations...and then above it he heard a sudden shout of surprise.

"What the hell? No one's allowed back here!"

"Cascade PD. Now open the damn door."

Brown. Jim turned and butted his way directly into the thickest part of the crowd, charging through the moving bodies as fast as he could.

"No way, cop. You got a warrant? This is a decent establishment."

"If you're not gonna listen to the badge, listen to the gun. Open the door or I'll shoot you in the balls."

Jim was finally in sight of the confrontation. Brown stood, back to Jim, tense with anger, facing a huge man in a black shirt and pants and a communication device in his ear, obviously some kind of security guard.

"I know my rights. You shoot me I'll sue you for everything you got."

Jim watched Brown visibly straining- trying to stop himself from actually following through on his threat. Jim knew how he felt- whatever was happening with Rafe was probably happening to Blair, he knew how the other man was feeling.

How could you explain to someone like that guard that once you've shared everything with another person, life and death and absolutely everything in between, and they still accepted and loved you...that person became everything you had. And you couldn't take that away in court.

Go to Part 2 now.