Much to Blair Sandburg's surprise, the singing and acoustic accompaniment was coming from number 307. He opened the door to the loft to find Professor Michelle Futterman playing guitar. James Ellison, Cascade's number one detective sat beside her concentrating hard on the harmony line to the song "Let it be Me". Blair paused to listen a minute before closing the door. Jim startled. It was quite easy to sneak up on a Sentinel when he wasn't particularly paying attention.
"Don't do that," Jim said in mock imitation of Joe Besser.
“Cagney,” Blair teased.
Jim threw him a look. “What are you doing home so early?”
Blair perched on the coffee table. “Nice to see you, too, Big Guy.”
Jim rose, slightly embarrassed. “You could warn a person,” he muttered heading for the refrigerator.
Blair turned to Michelle who just shook her head.
“I gather you talked Jim into performing at the police benefit talent show. “ The anthropologist’s eyes twinkled with amusement.
“She didn’t talk me into anything,” Jim’s voice came from his search and seizure mission into the arctic depths of the freezer. Finding the prized Eskimo pie he turned back to the two professors. “It was Simon’s idea,” he informed them.
Two days earlier......
"Ellison, my office, now." Simon sounded more tired than angry.
Jim obediently made his way to his Captain's office.
"Close the door"
Jim complied.
"Somehow," Simon began out of the blue. "and I don't know how, the department's annual show landed in my lap. I have to fill the stage with talent. You will do something."
Jim's mouth opened slightly. "No, sir, I don't think so. See I don't..."
"That wasn't a question, Jim. You WILL do something."
Jim nodded once. "I get it. But what am I supposed to do. I have no talent... at least not any that I can perform on a stage."
Simon was unyielding. "I'm confident you will think of something. Now get out." He made a shooing motion with his hand."
"Yes, sir," was the absolute only thing he could think to say.
***************************************************************
Michelle Futterman looked up from the mid-terms she was grading surprised to see Jim Ellison enter her office. "Jim, what are you doing here? Were we having lunch..."
"No," Jim said coming further into her domain. "I need to discuss something with you. Hope you don't mind. I know I should have called first." He sat in the chair beside her desk.
"Can you make it quick. My TA is sick and I have to get all these graded by this afternoon."
Jim toyed with the paperclip holder on her desk. "Every year the department holds a talent show to benefit survivors of those killed in the line of duty..."
"I know. I'm buying tickets." Michelle did not even look up.
"Actually, you're performing," Jim told her.
Now the professor raised her eyes. "Performing? When did this happen?"
Jim grew sheepish. "When Simon informed me that I would be doing something in the show."
"And you want me to pass myself off as you?"
Jim chuckled at the image of Michelle on stilts, wearing one of his sweaters and buzzing her hair. "No. Nothing like that," he finally said. "It's just I am really uncomfortable on stage and thought... thought that if someone was up there with me it would be easier." Jim's eyes were pleading.
"Oh, okay," Michelle consented. "But only because you look so pathetic. And I don't have time to listen to you whine all afternoon."
"Thanks," Jim told her.
"You're welcome. Now out!" Michelle made the same shooing motion that Simon had made earlier.
Back to the present....
"We decided that since Michelle has such a great voice we'd attempt a duet. And, that," Jim said, sitting back on the sofa, "is all there is to that."
Blair raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, man, I didn't say a word."
This time the slamming of the loft door lifted Blair about ten inches off the floor. As it was he dropped the spatula he was using. "Problem, Big Guy?"
"Grumble." Jim pushed passed his roommate and yanked open the refrigerator.
"You don't say." Blair rinsed the spatula and returned to the sandwiches he was grilling. "I'm making patty melts."
"Not hungry." Jim snagged a bottle of beer and closed the refrigerator door with enough force Blair heard its contents fall.
"Jim..."
"Sandburg, before you say anything... No, nothing's wrong and no I don't want to talk about it." Jim shoved passed him again and threw himself on the couch.
Blair turned off the stove and throwing caution to the wind approached his friend. "If there's nothing wrong, what's there not to talk about?"
"I said I don't want to talk about it."
"Then there is something." Blair sat on the coffee table. "Hey, I can't help unless you tell me."
Jim swallowed a mouthful of beer. "You can't help anyway. So just drop it."
"Try me."
Jim glared. "Fine. Michelle has laryngitis and won't be able to sing with me tomorrow night. I can't do the song by myself. All I know is the harmony line. And I don't mind telling you I'm not exactly great."
Blair slapped Jim's knee playfully. "You're right. I can't help you."
"I just need someone to do melody, at least drown me out a little," Jim muttered. Suddenly, he looked up. It was a Eureka moment. "Sandburg! You do it."
"Do what?"
"Haven't you been paying any attention. Sing the song with me at the talent show."
Blair shook his head. "Ah, no. Gotta draw the line at singing a love song to you."
"You wouldn't be singing to me... just with me."
"Come on, Jim, you already know what people think. This just might validate them, you know."
"No, I don't know. And since when do care what anyone thinks. Look, The Everly Brothers made this song a hit. Nobody assumed they were singing to each other."
Blair was still unwavering.
"Okay, okay I'll play one of those weird superheroes at your bizarro charity bazaar this year."
Blair's attention was caught. "You mean it?"
"I mean it. Just as long as it's not Captain Thai Dye. Is it a deal?"
"It's a deal."
***********************************************
Jim and Blair stood backstage waiting their turn to perform or as Jim referred to it make fools of themselves. They'd had one opportunity to rehearse with *Zen P. R., a local band that was donating its time as house musicians for the event and Jim was not totally convinced that he and Blair were not going to leave the stage covered in rotten tomatoes. Most of the acts had been quite good. In the detective's mind had this been the gong show he and Blair would have Jamie Farr and Jaye P. Morgan fighting for first swing.
Standing backstage for moral support was Michelle. When the two were announced she wished them luck in sign language before they took the stage.
The music started and the duo began the song: "I bless the day I found you. I want to stay around you. And so I beg you. Let it be me."
Somewhere in the middle of the song the two seemed to glean different meaning in the emotional lyrics. Just as The Everly Brothers seemed to at their reunion concert in 1983. It was as if the entire audience at Albert Hall was no longer there and the brothers were the only two in the room caught up in the moment, for the only time during the concert they faced each other rather than the crowd. By the third verse Jim and Blair faced each other as well. At the end of the song with those in attendance applauding (not throwing things as Jim had predicted) the two brothers in heart slipped into a hug. Jim kissed the top of Blair's head before they broke the embrace and headed offstage where Michelle waited with Simon.
"Not bad, you too," Simon complimented.
"Thanks, " Jim replied an arm still looped across Blair's shoulders. "Just don't get any ideas about next year." He then turned to Michelle. "What did you think?"
Michelle signed something.
"What did she say?" Jim asked Blair.
Blair chuckled. "She said, 'Don and Phil have nothing to worry about."
THE END