The sacrifices of friendship were beautiful in her eyes as long as she was not asked to make them. ---- Saki (1914)

Jim Ellison entered his apartment, shrugging out of his brown leather jacket. He dropped the jacket on a hook by the door as he headed to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator's door, he reached in and pulled out a cold bottle of beer before picking the bottle opener off the counter and popping off the top.

Jim strode over to the sofa, quickly punching on quiet, soothing jazz as he passed the stereo. Sighing, he sat down and took a long drag from the beer bottle. It had been a rough day and Jim was glad it was finally over. As the tension drained from his body, he noticed the silence that permeated the apartment. It was a silence that couldn't be hidden by the quiet music issuing from a nearby speaker.

"Blair," he called. He wasn't surprised when he didn't receive an answer. Jim shrugged. "The meeting must have taken longer then he thought," he said to himself.

Over breakfast, Blair Sandburg, Jim's roommate and "guide," had told him about a meeting he had with the committee overseeing his doctorial work this afternoon. Jim remembered that Blair had seemed nervous about the meeting but he wouldn't tell Jim why the meeting had been called. Blair's evasiveness had concerned Jim and his initial instinct had been to grill the younger man. Before he had the opportunity, Blair had pushed his uneaten breakfast away, practically jumped out of his chair, and grabbed his backpack and jacket as he headed out the door.

Jim thought back over the scene that morning as he drained his beer. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked back into the kitchen. Popping the lid off the recycling bin, he dropped the bottle in before turning to open the refrigerator again. His eyes quickly scanned its contents as he tried to decide what Blair would like for supper. Maybe a favorite meal would convince Blair to open up and tell Jim what was wrong.

The sound of footsteps coming slowly down the hall greeted Jim's sensitive ears. Jim quickly shut the refrigerator, he couldn't think of anything that he could cook that Blair would like anyway, and went to open the door for the young man.

"Hey, man," Blair said as he walked past Jim, taking off his jacket.

"You're late," Jim replied with a smile. He took Blair's jacket and hung it on the hook beside his own jacket. "I was about to have an APB put out on you."

Blair shrugged and headed to his room. Concern chased the smile from Jim's face as he watched the man disappear into his first floor bedroom.

"Let's go out to eat tonight. My treat," Jim called, adding, "I'll even let you pick the place."

"Thanks but I'm not really hungry," Blair answered, coming back into the main room. He walked over to where Jim stood, stopping four feet from the taller man.

Jim decided to wait until Blair, standing in front of him inspecting the floor, was ready to talk. He didn't have long to wait.

Blair took a deep breath before jerking his head up and asking, "When can I start writing about what we've been doing?"

Jim, startled by the question, replied, "I told you that it wouldn't do me any good to let other people know that I have this gift that I can barely control at times."

"Jim, I need to be able to start writing my thesis," Blair said, his hands coming up in supplication.

"Why the sudden determination?"

Blair's hands feel to his sides as he turned away from Jim. "Because if I don't hand in something by the end of this term, they're going to kick me out."

"What?!"

"Kick me out, man. As in so long and don't let the door hit you on your way out."

Jim watched Blair walk over to the window overlooking the bay and lean against the wall as he tried to digest what the younger man had just said. He crossed the room and laid a hand on Blair's shoulder.

"Why would they want to do that? You're a good teacher. They'd be crazy to let you go."

"You don't understand," Blair sighed. "It doesn't matter how good a teacher I am. What matters is that the university gives people just so much time to complete their doctorates. All universities do the same thing. And I'm running out of time."

"Did you try getting more time?"

Blair jerked away from Jim's touch, turned, and stalked to the center of the room. Jim was surprised by the sudden movement. He turned and watched his roommate who was now pacing behind the sofa.

"Of course, I tried to get more time! What? Do you think I'd just willingly let them kick me out?"

As Jim tried to think of something to say, Blair stopped pacing. He strode around the sofa and dropped down. His shoulder-length, curly, dark, brown hair fell forward as Blair dropped his head into his hands and leaned his elbows against his knees. Jim walked over to crouch in front of Blair.

"What do you need to finish writing your thesis?" he asked, quietly.

Blair pulled his head out of his hands and looked at the man in front of him. A glimmer of hope, something he hadn't felt all day, warmed him. "Your permission to use the information we've gathered about your Sentinel abilities."

He watched Jim with almost breathless expectancy as the older man considered Blair's request. Each passing second gave Blair more hope that he wouldn't have to abandon his dream of obtaining his doctorate in anthropology.

"All right."

"Yes!" Blair cheered, slapping his hands against his knees and jumping to his feet. "I can't tell you what this means to me."

"Wait a minute, Chief," Jim said, grabbing Blair's right wrist and pulling him back down to the sofa. "You can use the information as long as you don't mention my name or use details that would let anyone reading this be able to figure out who I am and what I do."

Blair's face fell and he jerked his wrist out of Jim's grasp. The sudden, forceful movement caused Jim to lose his balance and he fell back onto the floor. He looked up at his agitated roommate, trying to figure out what he had said wrong.

"So what exactly can I use?" Blair asked as he stood up and again started pacing. "The training sessions that we've held? That's about all I can think of that doesn't give a clue about what you do for a living. And just what am I supposed to do when the committee wants proof of my claims?"

Blair turned to Jim, obviously waiting for an answer.

"I don't know. But I'm sure you'll think of something. I just can't let you reveal any information about me. It could put me in a difficult position."

"I always knew this was a one-sided relationship we had here." Blair was barely able to keep from shouting as he continued, "I help you get control of your abilities and I get what? You can't use anything about me, cause it may put me in a difficult position.' Did you ever think of the position you're putting me in, man?"

"I'm sorry, Blair. Can't you do something else for your thesis?"

"There isn't time, man."

"Then just go to another university and complete your thesis there. That'll give you more time and there's another college about an hour away from here."

Blair glared at Jim before turning and stalking to his room. Jim was getting to his feet when Blair came out of his room, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He stormed past Jim, grabbing his black, leather jacket before reaching for the door knob. Jim watched in silence as his roommate jerked the door open and left, slamming the door shut.

******************
After storming out of the building, Blair spent five minutes pacing in front of the steps, not noticing the strange looks from the people who passed him on the sidewalk. He stopped pacing and attempted to do his kundalini breathing in an effort to calm down. It didn't help.

"Remember what Chris said she did when she got this angry?" Blair said to himself. "She said it worked every time."

Blair turned and headed into the parking lot attached to the apartment building. He walked over to his gray Corvair and tossed in his backpack before getting into the car. Taking a deep breath he turned the key in the ignition, turned the radio up loud, and drove off into the gathering gloom.

******************

Jim stood staring at the door Blair had rushed out for a long time. He turned and walked back to the stereo. Pushing the power button, he paused to listen for the sound of Blair's feet on the stairs, hoping he would hear Blair returning. He didn't. Instead he heard the sound of a Corvair, driving away from the building.

Jim slowly walked over to the sofa and sat down. he thought, deciding not to bring up their argument when Blair returned. Hopefully in the morning they would be able to come up with a solution to Blair's problem.

Suddenly, Jim realized that it wasn't simply "Blair's problem." If Blair did lose his job at the university, he might leave. After all he wouldn't have an income anymore. While Jim didn't mind picking up the kid's share of the rent and expenses, he knew Blair would rather move back home with his parents then let Jim support him. And if that happened he would lose his Sentinel guide. And his friend.

Jim decided this couldn't wait until the morning. As soon as Blair came back, they would try to work things out, together. Jim sat on the sofa, waiting for Blair to return. When he hadn't returned by midnight, Jim went to bed. He didn't get much sleep.

******************

Blair drove north along the mountain road. He wasn't sure how long he had been driving or where he was and he didn't care. It had taken a long time but he had finally been able to reduce the rage that had surged through his system. At first he had thought he was only mad at Jim but it didn't take him long to realize that he was also mad at himself. He had known about the deadline but he kept putting off discussing it with Jim. Probably because he knew Jim's answer.

"And he's right," Blair said. He realized he couldn't hear himself over the loud, driving song he recognized by Rusted Root and he reached down to turn off the radio. "Maybe he can help me decide what to do."

Coming to a wide, straight area in the road, he turned the car around, heading back to Cascade. He hadn't been heading south for long when the car started to jerk and the engine began knocking. Quickly, Blair pulled the car over to the side of the road. He glanced down at the gas gauge and groaned.

"Empty?!? Man!"

He looked down the road, hoping to see a lit sign for a gas station nearby. There wasn't one. Sighing, he settled back into the seat. There was no way he was going to walk an unknown distance looking for a gas station in the dark. Besides, he was exhausted. He could find a station in the morning.

******************

"You told him what?"

Jim sat toying with his food. When Blair didn't return home by morning, he had asked his captain, Simon Banks, over for breakfast. He needed someone to talk to and Simon was the only other person who knew about his abilities.

"I told him he could write his thesis without mentioning my name or job or he could go to another college."

"Obviously Sandburg never told you too much about getting a doctorate."

Jim shook his head.

"My brother got one in history, of all areas, just before Darryl was born. What he couldn't do was make some wild clams without documented evidence to support those claims," Simon said. Using his fork for emphasis, he continued, "And you know that any claims the kid makes about what you can do would sound pretty wild to anyone but us."

"I know. I just didn't realize how important some sort of evidence was for him."

"As much as I hate to admit this, Sandburg would make a better cop then you would make an anthropologist."

Jim shrugged. "Why do you think he'd get so upset when I told him he could go to another college?"

Simon put his fork down, leaning back in his chair, before answering, "Think about it Jim. If you got fired from your job because you couldn't complete your major requirement for employment, do you think anyone else would want to hire you, given the same stipulation for employment?"

Jim sighed and dropped his fork onto his untouched plate. "No. I wouldn't."

"How much time does he have?"

"Two months."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Two months! He had to know this was coming up."

Jim shrugged and stood. He picked up the plates and took them over to place them in the sink. Simon picked up their glasses as he stood up and joined Jim.

"What else is eating at you, Jim?" he asked, handing the glasses to Jim.

"Blair didn't come home last night."

"That doesn't sound like him."

"It's not."

The phone rang as Simon opened his mouth to speak. Jim pushed past him to answer the phone, hoping Blair would be at the other end of the line.

"Ellison. . . . No. He's not here. Can I take a message? . . . He was called away on an emergency. . . . All right. Goodbye."

Simon watched Jim hang up the phone before saying, "Let me guess, that was the university."

"Anthropology department. Blair didn't show for his 8:00 class."

Simon blew air out of his mouth, pulled off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jim stood watching him, one arm braced against the wall next to the phone.

"So what do you want to do now?" asked Simon, putting on his glasses.

"Put an APB out on him."

"What? Don't you think that's a bit premature?"

"Simon, something had to have happened to Blair to cause him to miss his class."

"You don't know that for sure."

Jim turned and walked out of the kitchen. He walked over to the window and looked out onto the bay.

"I've never known Blair to shirk his responsibilities. Maybe he wouldn't come back here. Maybe. But he wouldn't miss this class. Not today especially."

"Why not today especially?"

Jim turned back to Simon. "Midterms. He's been writing that test for a week."

Without a word Simon turned and walked over to the phone. As Simon dialed the phone, Jim remembered hearing Blair's Corvair pull away from the building.

"Simon, make sure the highway patrol and surrounding communities get the APB. He could have gone anywhere."

******************
Blair was walking south along the quiet, mountain highway when he heard the sound of a car approaching from the north. He turned sideways and stuck out his thumb, expecting the approaching car to blow past him just like the last three cars he had seen. As he watched, the golden-brown Toyota 4-Runner went past him then suddenly slowed to a stop. Blair took a couple of skip steps toward the car before breaking into a run, afraid the driver would change his mind.

"Thanks, man," he said as he reached the vehicle's open passenger window. Looking in, he was surprised to find that the driver was a woman, not a man. "I hope I don't lose this lift by saying this, but don't you know that it's dangerous to pick up hitchhikers?"

The driver shrugged as she said, "As a rule I don't but I figured you were safe."

"What was it?" Blair asked as he got in the car. "My karma?"

The driver laughed, flipping her shoulder-length, light brown hair out of her face. "Hardly. You're Blair Sandburg."

"How'd you know my name?"

"I had you for a class last year. And I went to see that guest lecturer that you introduced. No matter how old I get to be, I'll never forget that lecture."

"That good, huh?"

"Actually I was thinking of the gas bomb that went off in the middle of the lecture. My name is Jessie Daniels, by the way," the driver said, reaching out her right hand to Blair.

Shaking Jessie's hand, Blair said, "I don't think I'll forget that class either."

"Was that your car back there?" Jessie asked as she turned to check the road before pulling back onto the highway.

"Yeah. I ran out of gas last night. Mind taking me to a gas station?"

"Not at all," Jessie said. "You must have been really angry at someone."

Stunned, Blair stared at Jessie. "How'd you know that?"

"You never struck me as the absent-minded professor type," she answered. "And when I get really angry at someone I take off for a drive before I say something I'll later regret."

"Is taking off for a drive when you're angry some sort of girl thing?"

"I don't think so. Luckily my sister doesn't do it."

"Why? Is she a bad driver when she's mad?"

Taking her eyes off the road and turning to Blair, Jessie answered solemnly, "No. She's a bad driver when she's happy too."

Blair watched Jessie's serious face, noticing the twinkle that appeared in her pale-brown eyes and the twitching in her lips, and laughed. No longer able to contain her laughter, Jessie turned back to watch the road.

"So what brings you out this way?" Blair asked.

Jessie tilted her head to the right and sighed. "My roommate's boyfriend beat her up. Again."

"Sounds like a jerk."

"Almost two years," she sadly answered.

"You don't think she'll be back?"

"No."

Blair and Jessie lapsed into silence.

A movement to Blair's left caught his attention. His eyes followed Jessie's hand as she reached forward and turned on the radio. Noticing the time he gasped, "It's 7:30."

"So."

"I'm supposed to be at the university by 8:00."

Shaking her head, Jessie said, "Sorry but you're not going to make it."

"Why not? If you don't mind just take me straight to the school. I'll get gas later."

"You really must have been mad last night. Right now we are about 150 miles from Cascade. It will take at least three hours to get there."

Blair slumped back in the seat. "Oh man. I don't need this. I'm supposed to be giving a midterm today."

Jessie glanced at Blair and then pointed to the glove compartment in front of him. "My cell phone is in there. Why don't you call the department and tell them that you're having car problems?"

"Thanks," Blair said as he leaned forward and opened the glove compartment. Quickly he punched in the Anthropology Department's number before placing the phone against his ear. The phone squealed, causing Blair to jerk it away from his head.

"Something's wrong with it."

Jessie leaned forward and looked out of the windshield at the mountain and trees towering over the car. "No. It's just not getting a cell. The problem with these things is that they just don't work as well in the mountains. You'll have to wait till we get to a gas station."

"How long will that be?"

Jessie shrugged.

An hour later, Jessie's car pulled into a small gas station.

******************
Simon watched Jim pacing in front of his desk. Ellison had been pacing for almost 15 minutes and it was beginning to annoy Banks. He pulled off his glasses, dropping them onto his desk before saying, "Would you just sit down!"

Jim sank into a chair in front of Simon's desk. "Sorry, Simon." He sat, fidgeting in the chair, for one minute before jumping up and walking over to the office window.

"Jim."

"I'm sorry Simon but I can't just sit here."

"We've put an APB out on him including all of the surrounding areas. You've already been to every single place you could think of that Blair may have gone. Twice. What else can you do?"

"I could go out there. Drive around and see if I can find him."

"Where?"

Jim shrugged, "I don't know." He turned from the window and returned to his seat.

Simon put his glasses back on, looking over to Jim, and asking, "What are you afraid of, Jim?"

Sighing, Jim said, "That Blair will leave."

"And what if he does?"

"Simon, I don't think I can control my senses without him. You know about my abilities but only Blair has any idea about how to deal with them. You remember when I got tossed off that train?"

Simon nodded.

"If it hadn't been for the work Blair had done with me, I don't think I would have been able to get my senses under control. And if I hadn't gotten my senses under control I wouldn't have gotten out from under that train alive."

"All right," Simon said, standing up and coming around the desk to stand in front of Jim. Settling on the edge of the desk he asked, "What are you going to do to keep him from leaving? You can't let him reveal your identity. It would end your ability to perform your job effectively."

"I don't know how I can help him get his doctorate but I've thought of a way for him to keep his pride."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Right now his official position with the force is a police observer. That means he doesn't get paid. Why can't we change that?"

Simon stood. Looking down at Jim he shrugged and said, "He would have to be hired on as a civilian special advisor. I guess I could talk to the chief and see if he'll go for it. But what would I say?"

"Whatever it takes. I'm willing to tell him about my abilities if we have to."

Simon held up a hand. "All right, Jim. All right. But let's not rush into this. Sandburg's a smart kid. Maybe he can think of a way out of this mess on his own."

******************
The Toyota 4-Runner pulled to the side of the road, coming to a stop in front of the gray Corvair. As the engine shut off, Blair exited the passenger door and headed to the back of the 4-Runner. Jessie put her keys in her pocket as she got out of the car. She joined Blair as he opened the hatch. Before he could take his hand off the handle, Jessie was reaching into the car and pulling out a red gasoline can.

"Here, let me take that."

Jessie shrugged, handing the gas can to Blair. "Fine with me, Professor."

Blair grinned, saying, "It's just that I wouldn't want you to break a nail, Ginger."

Jessie stepped back, shutting the hatch. "Ginger? Me? Mary Ann, maybe, but not Ginger. I don't have her curves," she said as she ran her hands over her hips.

"They look good to me," Blair said as she walked past him.

"A comment like that could get you in a lot of trouble," she said, over her shoulder, stopping next to the Corvair.

"I didn't mean anything by it."

Jessie smiled. "You are so easy."

Blair let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Evil. You are evil."

"Come on," Jessie said, turning to walk to the back of the car. "Let's get you on your way."

Blair quickly joined Jessie, unscrewing the gas can's cap. Jessie opened the gas cap of the Corvair and Blair tipped the gas can up, letting the gas pour into the tank. When the can was empty, he set it down on the ground. Jessie screwed the gas cap back on as Blair dug his keys out of his pocket and headed for his front door.

Jessie turned toward the front of the car, leaning against the trunk as she watched Blair open the front door. Blair sat down in the driver's seat, leaving the door open, and put the key in the ignition. Crossing his fingers, he turned the key. The engine sputtered and coughed before finally roaring to life.

Jessie straightened and walked to the open door. The engine died as she reached the door.

"What happened?"

Blair shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about something."

Jessie dropped to one knee next to the door. "What?"

"Well, since we're both going to Cascade and you have that tow bar in the back of your car, why don't we go together?"

"You want me to tow your car?" Jessie asked. As Blair nodded, she said, "Okay. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That we talk. You haven't said much of anything during the past two hours. It was almost as if I was traveling alone."

"I can do that."

"Good. Let's get your car hooked up."

******************

"Thank-you," Jim said before hanging up the phone. He slammed his right fist into his left hand as he turned and headed to Captain Banks office. Opening the door, he said, "I just talked to the Anthropology Department at the university."

Simon nodded, waving Jim into the room as he talked on his phone. "Did he see them? All right, keep me posted." Hanging up the phone, he asked, "What did they have to say?"

"Sandburg called about 8:30 and said his car had broken down about 150 miles north of Cascade."

"That fits with what the county sheriff's department just told me."

"Was that them?" Jim asked, pointing to the phone on Simon's desk.

Simon nodded. "According to one of their officers, they were seen at a gas station about two hours from here."

"They?"

"Sandburg and some girl. The attendant remembered them because it was the second time they had been in that morning. It seems that Sandburg ran out of gas and this girl stopped and gave him a lift to the station. They got gas and left and then two hours later they came back again, this time towing Sandburg's car. They got more gas and headed south."

Jim sat for a minute, deciding what to do, before asking, "Do you know what road they were on?"

Simon nodded. "But why, Jim? They're on their way back to Cascade."

Leaning forward, Jim answered, "He got picked up by someone. You know how dangerous that can be? What if this girl turns out to be a killer."

"You have a suspicious mind, Jim. I doubt she would give him a lift to a gas station and back an hour to his car if she were going to kill him."

"You're probably right but I want to meet them anyway."

Simon nodded. "Fine, but I'm driving. You aren't thinking straight right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since Sandburg took off, you've been acting like a worried father whose kid went out on his first date. Not his son, either."

"He's my friend, Simon. I just want to make sure he's all right."

Simon stood up and walked to the door. Opening it, he said, "Let's go, then."

******************
Jessie kept her eyes on the curving road as she drove the 4-Runner south toward Cascade. Blair sat in the passenger seat, drumming his hands on his legs as he looked out the window.

"Would you stop that?" she asked.

"Sorry," Blair said, clasping his hands together.

"Look, we've talked about food we like, places we like to go, and tv shows we watched growing up. We've even talked about the ugly scene between my roommate and her boyfriend yesterday and you've been antsy the whole time. Why don't

you tell me what's wrong? What made you so mad yesterday?"

Blair didn't answer. Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"It might help to talk about it," Jessie gently prodded, casting a quick glance at Blair.

Nodding, Blair said, "I was mad at a friend."

"Why?"

"My doctorial thesis is due at the end of this term and I'm not going to have it done."

"No offense, but that sounds like it's your problem. Not his."

Blair sighed, opening his eyes. "You're right."

"Unless. . . . Are you expanding on your Master's thesis for your doctorial?"

Blair turned to stare at Jessie. "Yes. Do you know what my Master's thesis was about?"

Jessie nodded, turning to Blair before continuing, "Sure. I even kept the journal it was published in. You reviewed Sir Richard Burton's work concerning Sentinel's."

Blair, surprised, shook his head. "Not too many people read that article."

"I did and I thought it was fascinating. If you're expanding on it for your doctorial thesis, you must have found someone who has those abilities."

Blair stared at Jessie. She turned, saw the expression on his face, and laughed.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything. I take it your friend didn't want you to use any information about him or her."

"Basically. I was angry at first but now that I've had a chance to cool off I can see his point."

"So you're stuck."

Blair nodded. They continued to travel in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.

Jessie turned to look at Blair. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "If I help you out will you give me credit for it?"

"How can you help me out?" Blair asked. "Do you know someone else with Sentinel abilities?"

"I wish. No, I was thinking of something else."

Blair twisted in his seat in an attempt to get a better look at the driver. Raising his hands, shoulder-height, he asked, "Just what were you thinking?"

"There is another way to complete your doctorate."

"Sure, find some previously unknown source that collaborates Burton's earlier work. Not as impressive and not likely to happen."

Jessie smiled. "What if it were?"

"You have some?" Blair asked, leaning closer to Jessie.

"Did you ever hear of Jonathan Hanson?"

"He was a contemporary of Burton's."

"Actually he did his work about 40 years after Burton. Few people have ever heard of him cause he never made a name for himself.

Instead he spent his life following in Burton's footsteps. That's why most people think he was Burton's contemporary. Anyway, he also read about Burton's Sentinels. He followed Burton's tracks, trying to either prove or disprove his claims."

"How do you know about him?"

"He was my great-grandfather. My grandmother raised me on stories about her father. That's why I went into anthropology. When I did, she gave me Jonathan's journals."

"Was his work to rediscover Burton's Sentinels in the journals?"

Jessie nodded. "He found them."

Blair leaned back into his seat. "Why didn't he ever publish his work?"

"He died."

They continued in silence before Blair asked, "You'll let me use his journals?"

"There are quite a lot of them. You'll need help to go through them all."

"As long as you agree to become my T.A.," Blair said.

"You'll still give me credit for my help? I don't want to end up like my great-grandfather. I need to start making a name for myself."

Blair nodded, reaching out his right hand. "Of course."

Jessie took it. "Deal."

******************
Jim leaned forward in his seat. Peering out the front window, he spotted Blair's gray Corvair.

"There's his car, Simon. In the diner parking lot."

Simon strained to distinguish Blair's car from the others in front of the diner. "I can't see it, Jim."

"It's there. Just head over to the diner."

Simon nodded and pressed his foot on the gas pedal, picking up a little speed. As the car approached the entrance to the diner, he slowed and flicked on the turn signal. Seeing that the oncoming lane was clear, he turned into the lot and pulled beside the 4-Runner and attached Corvair.

Jim stepped out of the car and walked over to the Corvair as Simon came around the front of his car. Glancing inside, Jim turned back to Simon and said, "His backpack is still in the car."

"So they're insi. . . ."

"Hey!" a female voice called, interrupting Simon. "What do you two think you're doing?"

Both men turned to see a slim woman in jeans and a thin, long-sleeved, purple sweater heading across the lot. She trotted over to them, holding a cellular phone in her right hand.

"It won't take but a second for me to call the cops."

Simon raised a hand, pulling out his badge he said, "Hold on, there. That won't be necessary. I'm Captain Banks and this is Detective Ellison."

"Look, I'm sorry about having to take up so many parking slots but there wasn't any other way to get the cars in without blocking the lot."

Jim shook his head. He took a step toward the young woman and asked, "Where is the owner of the car you're towing?"

"Blair?" she asked. Turning to point to the diner, she said, "He's inside paying the bill and answering the call of nature." Turning back to Jim she added, "He hasn't done anything illegal. Definitely not anything that would warrant dragging a detective and his captain out after him."

"You don't understand," Jim said with a quick shake of his head. "Blair's my roommate. We just wanted to make sure he was all right."

"Jim! Simon! What are you guys doing here?"

Jim and Jessie turned to see Blair walking over from the diner. Jessie turned back to Jim, asking, "Are you the friend he got mad at yesterday?"

Jim jerked his head toward her. "What did he tell you about me?"

"Nothing," Jessie honestly answered. Sudden recognition bloomed in her eyes and she asked, "Aren't you the guy the Professor had as a guest speaker the day the gas bomb went off?"

Jim nodded distractedly, taking a few steps forward to meet Blair before he could reach the others. Speaking in low tones he asked, "Who is that girl?"

"Jessie Daniels. She was in one of my classes last year. Man, am I glad she recognized me when she drove past or I'd still be out there walking."

"What's wrong with your car?"

"Nothing. I just ran out of gas," Blair answered, moving to take a step past Jim.

Jim grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Why is your car being towed? And what did you tell her about me?"

Blair raised his hands. "Don't worry, Jim. I didn't tell her anything about you. I just didn't want to drive back alone. You know I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our partnership."

Jim stared hard at Blair.

"Were you worried about me?" Blair asked.

Jim scowled, releasing Blair's arm before turning away. He missed the smile that overtook Blair's face as he followed in the taller man's footsteps. They quickly joined Simon and Jesse, who were standing in front of Jessie's car discussing its performance. The two dropped their conversation as the men joined them.

"Hey Simon," Blair said. "I see you two have met."

"We've met," Simon said. "She also told me you've figured out how to finish your doctorate."

Blair cast a quick glance at Jim before answering, "Yeah, she's got some records that she's going to let me use."

"With my help," Jessie interjected.

"Right. With Ginger's help."

"Ginger?" Jim asked. "I thought her name was Jessie."

"Didn't you ever watch tv when you were a kid?" Simon asked. "The Professor and Ginger?"

Jim shook his head, confused.

Simon rolled his eyes. Turning to Blair he said, "You're going to have to teach him about Gilligan's Island. Especially if Ginger here is going to help you out."

Blair and Jessie laughed. Slapping Jim on the back, Blair said, "Come on guys. Let's get home."

The End

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to thank the following people for their help: Claire, Deanna, and Monica. Thanks a lot gals for all your help.

If you liked the story, drop me a line and let me know.  Laura

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