Author: Jvantheterrible

Date: May 26^th, 2001

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Petfly, etc. No monies changing hands.

Pairing: J/B, from both POV's.

Archive: Only at 852 Prospect and ONLY w/my comments, etc.

Author's Notes: My take on 'Murder 101'. Blair takes a NASTY beating from Brad Ventriss's goons in this story - the Blessed Protector doesn't QUITE make it in time. If that isn't your cup-o-tea, OR if you dislike SERIOUS angst, bad language, violence, h/c, and/or M/M sex, then what are you doing HERE???? You've obviously never read my XF fic. <g>

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I was just sitting down to relax after a long day at the station, ice-cold malted beverage in hand, when my roommate kicked open the front door and stormed in like a goddamn hurricane. He threw his backpack to the floor, and tore his coat off so harshly that I heard a couple of the seams rip. He threw his keys into the basket by the door so hard that the entire thing went crashing to the floor. Frowning and cursing under his breath, he began to pace like a caged animal - and he still hadn't said a word to me.

"Easy Chief, what the hell's going on?" I asked him, setting my beer down on the coffee table and standing up as I watched him continue on with his tirade. Focusing in, I could hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, and could practically smell his anger and…was that a trace of fear mixed in?

"Goddamn spoiled rich kids," he muttered to me, wringing his hands so hard that they had to hurt, "Think they can get away with everything." He stopped then, and I could just feel his rage boiling beneath his not-so-cool exterior.

I took a few steps towards my pissed-off Guide and opened my arms in an attempt to welcome him into a hug, but he waved me off and stalked several feet away so that he could look out the picture window on the other side of the room. I remained where I stood and dropped my hands to my hips, waiting for him to tell me just what had gone so horribly wrong. I gave him a few minutes, and once his heart had slowed down considerably, I attempted to speak to him again. "Blair, what the hell happened? I've never seen you so upset babe," I said softly, walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around him; this time he didn't push me away, and he actually sort of melted in my gentle grasp.

"It's bad, Jim…I mean, REALLY bad," he said softly, taking my hands in his and clasping them together at his belt buckle. I nuzzled into his thick curls and waited for him to elaborate, letting him take his time and collect his obviously racing thoughts so that he could spill everything at his own pace. Finally, he started talking.

"There's this kid in one of my classes…his name's Brad Ventriss, and I busted him with a bought term paper yesterday. It still had the note on it from the guy he got it from. Little punk didn't even bother to LOOK at it before he handed it in," Sandburg continued, practically vibrating with anger - and he'd only just started telling the story. Taking a deep sigh and visibly trying to relax, sinking deeper into my embrace, he went on, "So I took it to the Department Head, and he told me to let it go; said that because this kid's dad paid for some gymnasium that I didn't have a choice. Told me that I should be spending more time on campus instead of riding along with cops."

"He actually said that, Chief?" I asked him, and he nodded, his curls tickling my cheek. I kissed his temple and whispered to him to go on, so he did.

"After Sidney blew me off, I decided to take it the next step further. This morning, I went to Chancellor Edwards and that's where the REAL fun started. Ventriss was already in her office, WITH his lawyer, and brought up all this bullshit about how I've missed all this time from school, and how my students are suffering because of my police work," Blair was shaking in my arms now, full blown shivering. I could smell his tears starting and I could hear the click in his throat as he tried to swallow spit that was no longer there.

Releasing his waist and turning him around so that he faced me, my hands on his shoulders for support, I waited for him to stop staring at his shoes and realized that this was way more than just a bad day. "What did they do, Blair?" I asked him, trying to stuff my usual gruffness away and be totally sympathetic and open to him. When he finally did tilt his face up, I felt my heart squash in my chest; the pain in his gorgeous blue eyes was almost too much for me to look at, and as the tears streamed down his cheeks, he managed to tell me the rest.

"They fired me, Jim. Chancellor Edwards fired me…I…I huh-have to go clean out my office tuh-tomorrow," he finished, and I pulled him to me fiercely, wrapping my arms around him and letting him sob into my shirt. Stroking the curls that were now as limp as the kid himself, I clenched my jaw, barely able to contain the anger that now raced through me. It was as though it had left Blair and channeled right into me and I didn't know what to do. I just kept holding him, telling him to let it out and that somehow, everything would be okay.

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Many minutes later, when I'd managed to get him calmed down a bit, I got him a beer from the fridge and we both plopped down on the couch. I put an arm around his shoulders and he rested his head against my bicep, looking up at the ceiling. "I can't believe this is happening, man," he said, "After all the damn years I've worked at that school. How can they do this to me, Jim? I mean, I've got more time invested there than half the damn staff, and I'm not even official yet," he said indignantly.

Nodding, I silently agreed with him; there were a number of things wrong with the whole situation from what he'd explained so far. It wasn't JUST about a term paper, either. This Ventriss kid was suspected of date rape as well, and it seemed suspicious that the brat would be in the Dean's office with his lawyer after just that one little scuffle with Sandburg. He was obviously tied up a little deeper in something other than a forged paper…but what?

Pulling my lover closer to my chest, smiling a bit when he snuggled in closer and wrapped his arms around me, I resolved to let Blair relax this evening, and tomorrow I'd go do a little asking around myself. I toyed with his hair and pressed more gentle kisses to his face and head, wherever I could reach, getting my plan of attack together in my head. With any luck, I'd have him reinstated by lunchtime.

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I woke up and rolled over, expecting to snuggle up to my lover - and hopefully do something about my practically painful morning erection - dismayed to find him MIA. "Awww, man," I groaned, "It's too early for police work," I said aloud to the empty loft. Glancing at the clock to see that it was actually 9:30 am, I quipped,"Or maybe not," to myself as I rolled over and headed for the bathroom to relieve my bladder - and my aching dick.

Showered and dressed, my libido and morale sufficiently dowsed with thoughts of what I had to do today, I grabbed an apple off the kitchen counter and snagged the newspaper, tucking it under my arm. By the time the elevator FINALLY reached me and deposited me on the ground floor, 'breakfast' was finished and I began to read the paper as I walked up Prospect Avenue. I figured Jim had just gone to the station, and decided that maybe a little jaunt would do me good this morning before I headed to Rainier to clear my things.

I didn't notice that Jim's truck was parked in its usual space, what with my nose buried in the Cascade Daily News. I headed for the park five blocks away, also oblivious to the black Mercedes that sat a few hundred feet away from the entrance to our building. The same car that began to trail me as I walked, sans bounce for a change, lost in my reading and my distress over losing my fellowship.

The sun was shining, which in and of itself was unusual for Cascade this time of year…hell, ANY time of year, and I actually enjoyed my walk. By the time I got to the park, I almost felt GOOD again. Maybe this was for the best; maybe I could just get a job full-time with the CPD, and just be Jim's partner in every sense of the word. I already WAS, technically, but it would be nice to get paid for it, I thought to myself. Smiling a bit as I tried to imagine myself with a badge and a gun, not being forced to stay in the truck all the time, I felt a tiny bit of enthusiasm spring back into my steps. Maybe things weren't so bad, after all…

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After a couple of laps around the small park, I decided to head back home, get the Volvo, and go get my things from Rainier. There was no sense in putting it off any longer…and it WAS a nice day…and I HAD sort of decided that maybe I could talk to Simon and see if maybe there was room on the payroll for a new cop…

Practically excited now to be free from my University ties, I strolled back towards the loft, finishing up my perusal of the paper with my horoscope. 'New beginnings await you, but there may be trouble on the horizon. Proceed with caution and remember that no matter what happens, you will come out on top. Keep your friends close by and all will go well'. "Huh," I muttered aloud as I walked towards the loft, surprised when the back door of a black Mercedes at the curb next to me suddenly flew open. Two men jumped out in my path, a third coming up behind me and grabbing my arms, holding me still while the other two began to assault me.

The first punch caught me in the solar-plexus, brutally knocking the air out of me and forcing me to bend over despite the asshole that was pinning my arms behind me. As I stood up and tried to catch my breath, still not understanding what the fuck was going on, I took a blow to my temple and then another to my gut; the moron behind me released me just in time to send me sprawling to the sidewalk. I was numb with shock, resting on all fours and trying to see who in the hell was attacking me. As I looked up, blood dripping into my left eye from my split open brow, I saw one of the men emerge from the backseat with a baseball bat, and I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as I waited for the impending increase in pain level.

"Jim," I moaned, curling into a fetal position and trying to protect my head as the bastards came closer to me, swinging the weapon threateningly over my head a few times before actually hitting me with it. They laughed at me as I cringed at the mere breeze from the bat, and I thanked the gods silently that at least it was a wooden bat, not a metal one. I might actually live to see my lover one more time…providing they didn't shatter my skull into a million pieces.

I felt the wood crack against my spine and I screamed, making them laugh that much harder as they took every bit of pleasure in their work. I tried to get up then, realizing that if I didn't get the fuck out of here, they might very well kill me. By sheer will, I managed to finally get back up onto my hands and knees despite the kicks and occasional thumping of the bat that rained down on me. I glanced into the still-parked Mercedes and saw Brad Ventriss behind the wheel, smirking from behind his purple glasses as I was beaten by his hired hands. I wanted to scream at him, but my voice betrayed me. I barely felt some of my ribs give way as I was struck in the chest with the bat, gasping for air that didn't seem to want to enter my lungs. Finally, I heard the little prick yell, "Enough! Let's go," and they all jumped into the car and sped off.

I couldn't move; everything hurt so fucking badly that I was certain I was going to die, right here on the sidewalk, just 100 yards from the loft. I was going to lie right here and bleed to death, most probably internally and externally, waiting for my Blessed Protector to come and rescue me. He was undoubtedly at the station, keeping the rest of the city safe, so I guess I could at least be thankful for that. With a final gasp that brought the metallic taste of blood into my mouth from what could only be my lungs, I let the blackness take over.

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I'd gotten up early and decided to let Blair sleep in for a change; the events of the previous day had taken so much out of my lover that he'd passed out in my arms last night, not even up to a little Sentinel affection. I called Simon up and asked for the day off, claiming the need for a little private time, and he acquiesced, as long as I promised not to elaborate any further.

I showered and dressed, then headed out for the store. I figured I'd get groceries enough so that I could make Blair a nice big breakfast, then we could go together to get his things from Rainier, and I'd fix him his favorite dinner later this evening. I didn't want him to have to face those assholes by himself; of course, that was assuming that they'd even BE there. My guess was that they'd already had their say, and Blair had had his, and there would be no more discussion.

As I walked leisurely to the market, I thought really hard about Blair and his duties at the University, contrasting and comparing them to his duties at the station. What if…what if he wanted to become my partner in ALL things? I mean hell, we were already partners in every other aspect of our lives…but what if he wanted to be official at the station? Simon and the rest of the guys would NEVER treat him like those stuffed shirts and skirts at Rainier; he was more appreciated by everyone on the force than he'd EVER been by anyone else. And it went without saying how I felt about him. That put a huge grin on my face as I entered the sliding doors and grabbed a cart to load my groceries into.

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Half-an-hour later, I had my bag of carefully chosen groceries - including the tongue that had JUST come in fresh today - and I headed for home. I wasn't really in any hurry; the sun was out, it was a beautiful day, and it felt good to be outdoors. The only thing that actually spurred me along was the thought that maybe if I hurried a bit, I could still catch Sandburg in bed. That meant that I could put the groceries away, strip, and climb back into bed next to him, snuggle up against him like I loved to do as often as possible. I wanted to be able to show him how much I loved him; prove to him that I didn't give a rat's ass that those jerk-offs at the U had given him the shaft. Besides; my shaft was WAY better than theirs - anyWAY, anyDAY.

Lost in my reverie, and all-too aware that my dockers had become considerably tighter with my current train of thought, I nearly missed the sound of distress coming from across the street. I slowed my pace almost to a stop and looked around, dialing my vision and my hearing up immediately - there it was again! There was a car blocking my line of sight; I was good, but not X-Ray good. I set the groceries down and jogged across the street, panicking before I even had a visual on the source of the noise. Mixed in with the sound of gasping was an all-too familiar heartbeat, and I noticed at the same time that it was much too slow for my liking. I nearly roared when I hit the sidewalk and saw what lay before me.

In a tableau out of my worst nightmares, I found Blair lying on his side on the sidewalk, facing me with blood streaming down his face, his breathing coming in short, hoarse gasps, spitting more viscous red fluid from between his lips as he fought to breathe. "BLAIR," I shouted, "CHIEF..oh CHRIST Chief, what the…who the FUCK," I cried, afraid to touch him anywhere for the rubbing of bones I could hear emanating from within his broken body.

I reached into my jeans and pulled out my ever-present cellphone, dialing 9-1-1 and screaming into the phone as I struggled not to give in to my need to touch my Guide, knowing that I could hurt him more if I tried to comfort him. I left the phone on despite the fact that they couldn't trace a mobile signal, dropping it to the ground as I waved my hands uselessly over Blair's face and chest, wanting to hold him to me but knowing better.

"Juh," was all he managed to say, sputtering a bit more blood onto his chin with the effort. I felt nauseous, struggling to swallow the bile that rose to my throat back down; it wouldn't do him OR me any good if I lost it now. I concentrated solely on him, making sure that I kept my senses dialed down, fighting against the urge to crank them ALL up at once to ensure his well-being.

"Hang on baby, the ambulance is on its way…oh GOD, Blair, FUCK," I cried, tears streaming down my face even as I told him, "You're going to be fine, babe, honest. You're not hurt that bad, Chief, you'll be okay, I love youloveyouloveyou," my voice trailed off, betraying me even as my emotions did the same. I didn't give a shit if the paramedics talked about 'Cascade's Cop Of The Year Breaking Down' for the rest of their lives; all I wanted in the fucking universe lay broken where I knelt, and nothing else mattered.

I could hear the sirens wailing already, and I leaned down and kissed Blair softly on the head, wincing as he groaned at the slight contact; whoever had done this to my best friend…my partner…my Guide…my LOVER…was going to pay. IN FULL. "Sssshhh, babe, hang on, okay? I’m here, your Blessed Protector is here, and no one's going to hurt you ever again. I promise, Blair. GOD," I yelled, closing my eyes and raising my head skyward, "GODDAMN YOU," I cried, grabbing one of Sandburg's hands in mine and trying to pull myself together as the ambulance skidded to a halt next to us, the EMT's hopping out and heading straight for us.

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Hours later, Simon showed up at Cascade General as I continued to pace, as I'd done for so many hours now. "Jim," he called out, and I barely even heard his voice; I was lost in my thoughts of how to go about catching Ventriss. Surely he was the one responsible for this - it was only a matter of tying him in SOMEHOW.

"Simon," I murmured, continuing to pace until he planted himself in front of me so that I actually ran into his chest and shook off my daze. "Sir, I'm sorry," I said weakly, "How did you-" he cut me off.

"I heard it on the scanner, Ellison. How's the kid?"

"He's still in surgery, Simon. They…they took a fucking bat to him, Simon. They…they fuh-fuh-" I lost my voice as my Captain patted me on the back, trying in vain to comfort me.

"Jim, you need to sit down and relax for awhile. It's been hours since this was radioed in, and you're not doing Sandburg any good like this," he said morosely. Banks knew me all too well; he knew that I'd be like this, and he also knew that he was the only one that could EVEN come close to grounding me during situations like this.

Before I could even take him up on his suggestion, a doctor appeared in the nearly empty waiting room, pulling off his teal mask as he headed towards us. "Detective Ellison?" he inquired, holding a freshly-scrubbed hand out to me as he approached. I took his hand and shook it as I said, "How is he, doctor?" I swallowed harshly as I saw the neutral look on the surgeon's face, not comforted one bit by his reaction - OR my Captain's.

"Mr. Sandburg sustained quite severe injuries, as I'm sure you're aware." He paused dramatically, and I closed my eyes and swallowed harshly as I built up what little strength I had left in me to listen to his diagnosis. "He had massive internal bleeding, including a ruptured spleen and appendix, both of which we promptly removed. Nearly half of his ribs are broken, two of which punctured his left lung; we repaired the damage successfully, and although he'll be in a great deal of pain for several weeks, he should heal up just fine." I let out a breath that I hadn't even realized I was holding, nearly breaking out into hysterical laughter when I heard Simon do the same.

"The next 24 hours will be crucial to his recovery, but I do expect him to be fine, gentlemen. He will remain in ICU for at least the next day or so, at which time we'll be able to move him to a private room, so long as his vitals stay at a respectable level, AND if there's no sign of infection from the surgery." The doctor appeared to be finished, and I immediately asked, "Can I see him?"

"Briefly, Detective Ellison, but despite the fact that you are listed as next of kin, Mr. Sandburg needs his rest. Keep it short." The doctor nodded at both Simon and me, and I practically sprinted through the doors. As I hurried down the hallway, I tried to brace myself for the sight that would meet me…but when I reached my lover's room, my breath still caught in my throat.

He was so white that he was nearly camouflaged by the sheets on which he lay, the only thing separating him from the bed being his dark brown curls. They had actually had to shave some of his hair off to stitch up a particularly nasty gash on his head, and I could've cried at the sight had I not been so happy just to hear his damn heart beating.

"Chief," I whispered, ignoring the lump in my throat as I entered his room and reminded myself over and over to be silent, not to wake him. 'Some 'Blessed Protector' I turned out to be, 'eh Chief', I thought to myself dismally as I sat down next to his bed, taking his lifeless hand in mine and gently holding and caressing it. If only I'd just stayed home this morning. If only I'd just waited a bit longer until he woke up, and had dragged him to the store with me. If only I'd not been so lazy about shopping, I might have caught them in the act and busted them. If only. Pushing all thoughts of failure out of my mind for the moment, I rested my forehead on his hand and thanked God that he was still here, still with me, still able to fight another day.

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I wake up not knowing where I am, wondering why in the hell I'm not in bed with Jim, his strong smooth body wrapped possessively around mine. One groggy look at my surroundings and I realize that I'm in the hospital - AGAIN - and yes, there's Jim, stubbornly refusing to leave my side. He's hunched over the bed, sitting in one of those too-hard chairs, sleeping with his head resting on arms folded close to my left hand.

I can hardly move my head; it feels like someone's run a damned wrecking ball into it…and then I remember Ventriss, and those men in the Mercedes, and a baseball bat. I moan as I try to physically shake the memories off, and Jim's head snaps to attention beside me. "Chief," he says attentively, as though he were never asleep, "Blair, how are you feeling?" He reaches towards my forehead and I cringe at his approaching touch, causing him to pull back concernedly.

"Hurts," I whisper to him, my chest hurting almost as badly as it did while I was trying to recover the LAST time some asshole tried to kill me. I can feel my ribs moving in different directions with each breath, and I gasp a few times before Jim rings for a nurse. "Hang on, babe, I'm calling a doctor," he says as he punches the button about fifty times.

The nurse storms into the room looking less than thrilled about Jim's insistent call, and I almost smile as he gives her his best shit-eating grin, causing her to smirk back at him as she welcomes me back to the land of the living and hurriedly takes my vitals. "Just press that button there for morphine, Mr. Sandburg. It takes the edge off nicely," she smiles at me like she really doesn't mean it, and then she leaves the room.

"Nice bedside manner," Jim snarls, his grimace fading back to a concerned look as he meets my gaze. "We got Ventriss. He turned in all of his little buddies for a plea bargain," he says pointedly, and I close my eyes against the pain radiating through my body. I hate drugs, but MAN this sucks, so I press the button and can feel the burning as the painkiller surges into my system. Naomi would have an absolute fit.

"Good," I groan, "When can we go home?" I close my eyes and give in to the sleep that beckons to me as it has so often these last several days. I barely hear Jim's soft reply of, "Soon, Chief, soon. I love you." I love you too, big guy, I think as I drift off.

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He's been in the hospital WAY too long this time. This is worse than after that psycho bitch tried to drown him, and I can't help wondering if all this craziness is wearing him down and making him not want to work with me anymore. He still looks at me like I'm his hero, even though I didn't make it in time again…

Shoving that thought aside, I smile as I make my way down the hall with him sitting in the wheelchair. I'm taking him home today, and neither of us could be happier. He's had enough of Jello and catheters, and I've had enough of the scents and sounds and everything else that goes along with being in a hospital.

"Ready, Chief?" I ask him as I give him a hand out of the chair and prepare to boost him up into the truck.

"Way ready, man. Hurry up, will ya'?" He asks me, those light-blue eyes never wavering in their intensity, the love never fading for one second as he looks at me. My heart pounds in my chest with excitement; I'll be able to hold him in my arms until the end of time, and even that will be too soon.

"Easy, Chief. The doctors told you not to get too excited," I remind him, and he snickers at me, that mischievous gleam back in his eyes as I gaze longingly over at him while I start up the truck. He leans towards me just a tiny bit, and I close the distance to kiss him gently on the lips, savoring the feel of that firm flesh against mine. It's been too long, I think to myself.

I pull away reluctantly and chide him for starting something he can't damn well finish before I pull out of the parking lot and head for the loft, reveling in the sound of his chuckle.

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Home sweet home. Jim just helped me up the stairs, practically carrying me across the proverbial threshold in order to get us inside as quickly as possible. He steers me towards the couch and gently sits me down, sitting next to me as close as he can possibly get without sitting on my lap.

"Chief?" He asks me, gazing into my eyes, pouring all the love that he holds behind those azure pools into the action.

"Yes, Jim," I say casually, acting like it's just another ordinary day in our household and we've just come home after another day at the station.

"Can I hold you for about the next-" he pauses and looks at his watch, then back at me, "Oh, say, ten years?" A smile breaks across that chiseled face, and I grin back at him.

"Sounds good to me, man," I tell him in earnest, and he leans back and opens his arms for me to arrange myself in his grasp in whatever position is most comfortable. That's my Sentinel, always thinking of his Guide's comfort. He gently wraps his arms around me and holds me loosely, and I don't even care that there's a slight twinge of pain in my ribs; I am not moving for ANYTHING.

"Blair," he murmurs into my ear, and I press my face a little further against his chest and nuzzle him.

"Yeah babe," I say.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there in time to, you know…" his voice trails off, and I lift my head to find him staring at me with tears starting to appear in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh man, come ON," I tell him, smiling at him and trying to convey my most heartfelt sincerity along with my words, "The Sentinel of the Great City can't be everywhere at once. You busted the punk. That's all that matters, Jim. I love you," I tell him, pressing my lips to his and letting him twine his fingers in my curls. I've missed this contact with him, and I can practically feel him soaking it up himself; if I had enhanced senses, I'd be zoning all over the damn place right now. He's actually hanging in there pretty well, as far as I can tell.

Once we're done with our handicapped version of liplock, I smile at him and ask, "What would you say if I told you I wanted to be your partner? And before you become a total smartass, I mean in the CPD sense of the word."

He looks at me with utter disbelief, and shakes his head stubbornly, "No way, Chief. Look at you! Just LOOK at what's happened to you already…and you're seriously even THINKING about becoming a cop? Did you get hit too hard on the head, Darwin? Got a fever?" He asks me, pressing the back of his hand gingerly to my forehead.

"Come on, Jim, these things would have happened whether I was a full-fledged cop or not, man. It's karma, man. It's just the way of the world. You can't ask me to sit in the truck and call for backup forever, Ellison," I tell him, frowning a bit.

"Are you really serious, Blair?" He asks me, "Because if you're really truly serious, you KNOW I'll go to bat for you…oh fuck, sorry Chief," he tells me as the blush spreads over his face.

"Ellison, just for that, I'm going to let YOU present the idea to Simon." I feign pissiness for all of five seconds before I start to laugh, and he leans forward and kisses me again, taking me once again into his arms and holding me. I want to stay like this forever, I think, and no matter what we decide about MY future, I know Jim will figure in there somewhere.

Thinking back to my horoscope on the day that Ventriss and company attacked me, I remembered what it said. I would come out on top, no matter what. As I lay here in my lover's protective arms, with him pressing kiss after kiss to my newly shorn temple, I know for a fact that it will never turn out any other way.

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The End.