--------

You see the full moon float You watch the red sun rise We take these things for granted But somewhere someone's dying      --Childhood's End by Iron Maiden

It was the witching hour and the world was eerily quiet. Two silent figures moved stealthily through the deserted streets. Both Caucasian teens, one was tall, well built, with spiky, brown hair and sporting a goatee, and the other was short and slim, with long, blond hair. They approached a dark house in the Bayside area, one of them knocking on a window behind the garage. There was no answer. "Must be sleeping," Goatee whispered. "Let's go in." The blond nodded and they walked around to the front of the house, silently lifting the garage door and going inside. In the back was a storeroom. Goatee opened the door, peeking inside. With a nod to himself, he walked in, followed by his companion. Lying on a bed in what appeared to be an improvised room was a young man, sleeping soundly. Goatee pulled a gun with a silencer from his pants and handed it over to the blond. "Do it," he ordered quietly. The young man took the gun, hand trembling slightly, and aimed it at the sleeping form. Several seconds went by before Goatee turned to him, an exasperated expression on his face. "Well?" he whispered. "I can't," his companion whispered, licking his lips nervously. "You have to. You want to be a Knight, don't you, Damian? This is your ticket in. Do it." Damian turned the gun on their target again, his hold on the weapon firmer this time. Knowing the shot wouldn't be heard due to the silencer, he took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger, hitting the sleeping man in the head. He felt nauseous as the body jerked spasmodically, blood beginning to flow freely from the wound. "Yes!" Goatee hissed with a smirk. "You did it, kid. Now, let's get out of here." They hurried out of the house, careful not to leave any traces of their visit, melting into the shadows as soon as they reached the moonlit street. They kept walking for about ten minutes, until they reached an old abandoned warehouse; once inside, they hid the gun behind a pile of rubble and left. Their mission had been a success. -------- Staring at the alarm clock, Jim saw that it was just a few minutes past midnight. Blair had fallen asleep as soon as they'd gone to bed; he hadn't slept well in days. A series of minor but trying cases had left them weary and exhausted, especially Blair; the frantic pace had worn the younger man down. It had worn Jim down as well, but he'd been drawing on an unexpected reserve of energy. He would crash soon too. Looking at the sleeping body next to him, Jim wondered anew at how much his life had changed since Blair had stormed into it. It was hard to believe it had been more than four years since that day at the hospital. It had taken some time to admit, even to himself, how much Blair meant to him. It was true that sometimes the best things in life are right in front of you; he'd just taken his time looking. Until Blair had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving everything up to save Jim, to keep him safe. Giving him back his life. And he'd finally figured it out -- Blair loved him. Was in love with him. Bang. Holy Grail time. Reaching over, he caressed the curly head tenderly, fingers carding softly through the silky hair. The deep blue eyes he so loved to watch darken in the throes of passion opened up to look at him. "Can't sleep?" Blair asked, his voice husky. "Just indulging in a little soul-searching. Thinking," Jim confessed with an awkward shrug. "Life, the cosmos, the importance of a great cup of coffee. The usual," he said, repeating the same words he'd said to Blair days after the press conference. The day their lives had forever changed. "Ah." Always wise to his moods, Blair didn't question him. "Maybe I should do something to help you sleep," he suggested instead, moving to cover Jim with his body, pinning him down to the softness of the bed. For a moment Blair hovered above him, and Jim stared up at the flushed features and wildly tousled curls of his life. "Love you," he whispered. "Love you more," Blair grinned at him, but his eyes reflected the love back at him. They lay chest to chest, gazing into each other's eyes, until Blair pushed his growing erection against Jim's already throbbing organ. As hot flesh met both men cried out with pleasure. Jim felt his heart speeding as Blair reached for his cock, fingers stroking him teasingly. He whimpered and arched into the intoxicating caress, surrendering to his lover's touch. Blair kept pumping his shaft as his tongue played with Jim's nipples, nibbling and licking at them until they were erect. Jim moaned as the hand abruptly left his eager cock, then groaned as he watched the young man snatch a tube of lubricant from the nightstand. "I want you, Jim," Blair whispered, nibbling on an earlobe. "You've got me, Blair," he replied huskily, turning onto his stomach and offering himself to his lover. "God, you're beautiful!" he heard Blair breathe into his back before biting him softly on the neck. He felt Blair's touch at his entrance, sliding first one, then two lubricated fingers inside his body, loosening the tight ring of muscle. He pushed back wantonly against the digits, gasping and writhing as Blair brushed repeatedly against his prostate. The fingers were removed suddenly, and he groaned desperately, but quieted as he felt Blair grasp his hips and position his cock against his anus. Both men groaned as Blair began to push into Jim, hands caressing his flanks soothingly as he slid inside in one long thrust. They remained still for a long moment, Blair's face pressed against his back, lips brushing over his shoulder blades and making him shiver deliciously. "Do it," Jim finally pleaded, wanting to feel his lover move inside him. "Bossy, aren't you?" Blair panted from behind him, then started to thrust into his heated passage. Jim groaned as a hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it in time with their lovemaking, a wave of pleasure starting to spread all over his body as they moved as one. He murmured broken words of appreciation and need, bucking helplessly against Blair as his lover's cock hit his prostate. They rocked together in perfect sync, wanting it to last forever but wanting completion just as much, their flesh growing sweaty and slick as they rubbed and slid against each other. He was unable to prevent his orgasm from taking over, his engorged cock spurting his seed into Blair's hand and onto the sheets. He came with a wordless shout, his muscles squeezing Blair to completion. The young man collapsed heavily onto his back, panting hard against his neck as he tried to control his breathing. When their bodies were finally under control, Jim rolled them onto their sides, enjoying the feel of Blair's form spooned behind him, arms wrapped possessively around his waist. He laced their fingers together, smiling as he felt the brush of lips against his back, before his partner settled down to sleep again. He was starting to drift off to sleep himself, when the phone suddenly rang. "Figures," he muttered, ignoring Blair's amused snort. -------- Jim parked the truck in front of the house, which was currently surrounded by police, then turned his head to look at his lover, catching him in a full-fledged yawn. "Okay, Chief?" "Yeah. Just need my beauty sleep, man. Let's move. The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can go back to bed." "Woof," Jim quipped with a grin, watching as Blair turned to him with an amused expression. "Stealing my lines now, Ellison?" Jim didn't reply, choosing instead to squeeze his lover's hand gently. "Coming?" He got out of the car, and waited for Blair to follow. They went inside through the garage, reaching the back room just as Simon was walking out. The captain looked almost as tired as Jim felt as he waved them in. "Ellison, Sandburg. I'm sorry for calling you, but I don't have anyone else to handle this one at the moment." "What do we have here?" Jim asked, eyes focusing on the bloodstained pillow. "Scott Grisham, aka Grisha, Caucasian, eighteen years old. Gunshot, one bullet to the head. Nothing was taken, the room wasn't even searched. This was obviously meant to be an execution. Apparently the killer's aim was a little off -- the kid was still alive when the ambulance arrived." "How bad?" Blair asked. "They don't expect him to pull through," Simon replied wearily. "Would've probably bled to death if a friend hadn't decided to pay him a late-night visit. He's in the kitchen. The victim's mother, Samantha Grisham, accompanied her son to the hospital. You'll have to talk to her there. She's in bad shape, Jim." Jim nodded in understanding. "I'll handle it, Simon." "Thanks. I hate to do this, but I'm going to leave you to it. I have a meeting with the Commissioner in the morning, and I want to get a few hours sleep. Keep me posted on what you find. Goodnight." "Goodnight, Simon." Jim waited until the captain was gone to turn his full attention to the crime scene. Knowing his guide was right beside him if he needed him, he used his senses to do his own personal search of the room. "Anything?" Blair asked. "No," he finally replied with a sigh. "Let's go talk to the friend." The kid was sitting dejectedly by the kitchen table. He was probably around sixteen years old, with short blond hair and blue eyes. He looked pale and shaken, as would be expected under the circumstances. "I'm Detective James Ellison, this is my partner Blair Sandburg. We need to ask you a few questions," Jim told him softly. The young man nodded warily. "Jemal Atkins, I'm the one who called the police." "You're the one that found Scott?" "Yeah." "You remember what time it was?" he asked gently. "How did you get in?" "About fifteen past midnight. The garage door is easy to lift. Grisha and I have been friends forever; I've done that all my life." "What were you doing here this late?" "I scored some good-looking pussy tonight and wanted to brag about it, man," Jemal replied. "I wasn't expecting to see him like that..." he said hoarsely. "You have to find out who did this, man. Grisha's one of the good guys, he didn't deserve a bullet in the head." "You know of anyone who might want your friend dead?" "Not a name, no. But --" "But what?" Jim prompted when the kid hesitated. "Two weeks ago Grisha watched some kid stab another during a fight. All I know is the kid's first name is Daniel. I know he was arrested at the time and that Grisha's supposed to testify against him. He was told not to talk about what happened, so I don't know any more than that." "That's okay, we can check it out ourselves. Anything else you can think of?" "Well, Grisha's involved with an anti-gang organization and has been raising a lot of hell lately. There's a gang in this area, the Bayside Knights. Maybe they have something to do with this. Grisha's been going to schools, warning the kids and their parents about the Knights. They're bound to be pissed off at him, ya know? I told him to watch his back, maybe carry a piece, but he wouldn't hear of it. Said he'd be no better than the gangs he was trying to stop. It's not right, man," he finished, shaking his head miserably. "We'll find out who did this," Blair promised, speaking for the first time. "You've been a big help; at least we have an idea of where to start looking. Do you know any of the gang members by name?" "No, I'm sorry. I stayed clear of them. Those guys are bad news. Besides, Grisha would've beaten the crap out of me if I even looked at one of them. His father died before he was even born, got caught in the middle of a gang shooting. Grisha hates them, man." "It's okay. You've given us enough to start the investigation," Jim assured him, giving him a card. "My cell phone and PD number. You think of anything, anything at all, you call me, okay?" "I will," Jemal said, taking the card before leaving. Jim watched a uniformed cop escort Jemal out, then turned to his partner. "Come on, Chief. Let's get to the hospital. We can check on the kid and talk to the mother," he added as they started out of the house. -------- They found Samantha Grisham in the hospital's ER waiting room, arms folded tightly across her chest as she paced nervously. When she heard them approaching, she turned around and Jim could see she was a beautiful, forty-something woman, with short, dark hair and emerald eyes. Seeing the pain so clearly etched upon her face, Jim couldn't help remembering something he had read once. What greater pain could mortals have than this: To see their children dead before their eyes?+ "Mrs. Grisham, I'm Detective James Ellison, this is Blair Sandburg. I apologize for having to disturb you," Jim began softly. "I won't ask too many questions right now, I know you're anxious to hear about your son, but I need any help you can give us with the investigation." She sniffed slightly. "It's all right, detective, I understand. If it helps catch whoever did this to my son, I'll do it. What do you want to know?" "Did you hear any strange noises, or see anyone suspicious around your house tonight?" "No, nobody. It's a peaceful neighborhood, nothing much ever happens there." "Do you know of anyone who wanted to see Scott dead?" "No," she replied, holding back a sob. "Unless this has something to do with that murder he witnessed. He was coming home from a party when he saw two kids arguing. One of them pulled out a knife and stabbed the other. I know the kid they arrested is called Daniel and that Grisha knew him, but other than that, there's not much I can tell you." "His friend Jemal told us Grisha's involved with an anti-gang organization, that he's been speaking against a particular gang, the Bayside Knights. You don't think this could be related somehow?" She frowned. "I don't think so. He doesn't talk about it much, you know how kids are nowadays. He's only been doing it for a month or so, but I don't think there's been any problems with the Knights, or any other gangs, for that matter." "Do you know any of the gang members by name?" "No, I'm sorry. My sister..." she hiccuped. "She has breast cancer and I have been going out of my mind lately, trying to be there for her and take care of Grisha at the same time. I haven't been home much lately. Maybe if I'd been there more --" she couldn't finish, weeping silently into her hands. Blair touched her arm gently. "Mrs. Grisham, what happened to Grisha wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it." She nodded, taking a deep breath in an obvious effort to control her emotions. "I know. I just can't seem to stop thinking about it. I lost my husband years ago, my sister's dying... and now I might lose my child as well." She shook her head, the dismay and the despair clear in her tone. "One last question, Mrs. Grisham. Can you tell us the name of the anti-gang organization?" "I heard Grisha mentioning it several times. He called it MAG." Jim nodded. "That will be all for now, Mrs. Grisham. If I have any more questions, I'll get in touch with you again," Jim told her gently, handing her his card. "If you think of anything else, please, don't hesitate to call." She accepted with card with a curt nod. "I will. Just -- Please, find whoever did this. Whoever hurt my boy." "We will, ma'am. We will." They left the grieving woman waiting for news of her son's condition, and moved tiredly towards the exit. "What now?" Blair asked. "What's the next step?" "We need to head in to the station. I want to run a check on Grisham, find out who this kid Daniel is and where to find him. Then we catch a few hours sleep, and in the morning I want to have a word with Earl Gaines in the anti-gang unit. Maybe he can help us dig something up on the Bayside Knights and the MAG organization." "I hope this isn't the beginning of a gang war." "I don't think so, Chief." Jim shook his head as they got into the truck. "I agree with Jemal, this might be about payback. Or to stop him from testifying. Grisha probably stepped on the wrong toes and paid for it." "That's so unfair, man! He was just doing the right thing." Jim gunned the motor as he looked at his partner. "I know, Blair," he stated seriously. "And we're going to do the right thing -- by catching whoever did this." -------- "What have you got?" Blair asked, returning from the break room with two cups of coffee and handing one to his partner. Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Grisham's clean. Graduated from high school last year, doesn't have a record. I called Homicide and was told he's the only witness in a murder case. The alleged perp is a sixteen-year-old boy named Daniel Stubbs, who recently moved here from Seattle with his mother. He got in a fight with another sixteen year old and stabbed him to death." "Checked his file?" "Yep. He was involved with a white street gang a few years back, the Seattle Killers, became a member at eleven. He was arrested several times on gang-related incidents, nothing serious." Jim looked back at the computer screen. "Until about two years ago." "What happened?" Jim scrolled down the page. "Stubbs was arrested during a gang shootout and spent a year in Juvey. He was released about six months ago." "And now he's living in Cascade. Could he be the one who shot Grisha?" "No. Homicide told me no bail was set, not with his record. The kid's staying in jail until the trial." "What about the mother?" "Siohban Stubbs, single, never married. Apparently she was an informant. Was also arrested due to her involvement with the Seattle Killers, but the charges were dropped. My guess is that the PD probably preferred to have her supplying them with information rather than locked up in jail. When Daniel was arrested she testified against other gang members. I need to call Seattle in the morning to find out exactly what happened." "With her son in jail for murder and that kind of background, she's definitely a suspect. So, we lost one and gained another. And let's not forget the mysterious Bayside Knights." Jim nodded. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," he confirmed. "Ready to go home?" "And willing!" Blair exclaimed, already reaching for their coats. There was no more talk of the case as they made their way to the elevator, then out of the station. Exhausted from the long day, they headed straight to bed after a brief but fulfilling goodnight kiss. -------- The first thing Jim did after he arrived at the PD the next morning was call Seattle and ask to speak with someone in their anti-gang unit. After being put on hold for the nth time, he finally heard someone answering on the other side. "Detective Henderson." "Hi, this is Detective Jim Ellison from the Cascade PD, Major Crime Department. I'm calling for any information you have on Daniel and Siohban Stubbs. They're involved in a case we're investigating at the moment." The man chuckled. "Daniel's back to his old tricks, huh? What do you need?" "I'm particularly interested in the details of his last his arrest and his mother's role in all of it." "Well, Daniel was involved with the Seattle Killers, one of our largest gangs. He was one of their most active members. About two years ago, he got involved in a fight with a member from a rival gang and all hell broke loose. It turned into a gang war. The anti-gang unit was forced to intervene to stop the blood bath and Daniel was arrested during a gang shootout. Spent a year in Juvey." "And Siohban?" "Now that woman is an enigma. I was told that she tried to get her son out of the gang but when it didn't work, she allowed them to use her house for meetings and occasionally as a hideout. The policy around here was basically to let her be because she was one of the best informants the unit had; gave good tips on other gang-related crimes and sometimes even drug or arms dealers." "So she used what she heard at home to get rid of other gangs?" "Pretty much, yeah. Truth is, she gave us precious information. We made a lot of busts because of her, a lot of scum are now behind bars because of what she did." "So there was never any proof she was directly involved in the gang's affairs?" "No. But I think she wasn't. She was just trying to keep her son alive in her own way. She made it up by being an informant. Like I said, an enigma. Anyway, when Daniel was arrested, she testified against the rest of the Killers, told us about other stuff they'd done, gave us the names of all their dealers. She practically destroyed the gang single-handedly. She was allowed to go free, but most of the Killers were arrested, including Daniel. He did his time and was released six months ago. That was the last I heard of them until recently." "Recently? What did you hear?" "That Siohban changed her ways and has been talking against gangs. Even helped found some kind of anti-gang organization there in Cascade. Makes sense; she probably wouldn't have gotten involved in all of this if not for her son." "I'll have to check that out. You wouldn't happen to know the name of the anti-gang organization?" "No, sorry. All I know is that it's pretty recent." "Okay. I may need to call you again, Henderson. But thanks for your help." "No problem, man. Maybe one day you can return the favor, we never know." "Count on it," Jim replied, before hanging up. "Well?" Blair asked. "Let's say that Siohban makes one hell of a good suspect, Chief. Apparently, she helped found an anti-gang organization here in Cascade." Blair raised an eyebrow. "MAG?" he asked, surprised. "That's my guess. Henderson couldn't tell me, said it was brand new. Come on, let's go talk to Gaines. He should know." Blair nodded and they made their way to the fifth floor, home of the anti-gang unit. Jim wondered briefly if Earl Gaines still sported the same badass attitude, or if he'd mellowed out since the last time they'd seen him. Gaines had done a good job stopping the Deuces and the 357s from going on a warpath, but he still had a hard time liking the man. Gaines was sitting behind a desk, typing on his computer, and didn't even look up until Jim cleared his throat. "Gaines." "Ellison! It's been a while, man! How are you?" he asked as they shook hands. "Fine. Remember my partner, Blair Sandburg?" "I remember. I don't think I ever thanked you for looking out for my grandmother that time." Blair smiled. "No problem. How is she? She's a pretty amazing lady, man." "Yes, she is. She's completely blind now, but can still beat the crap out me if I get out of line," he grinned. "Sit down. What can I do for you?" "Well, we were hoping you could tell us about a gang called Bayside Knights," Jim replied. "We think they may be responsible for a shooting last night. We also need information on an anti-gang organization called MAG." "I can't tell you much. They're a white street gang; black people aren't exactly high on their friendly list, so I don't mix with them. I can tell you they're a relatively recent gang, maybe about three, four months old. Vicious, but stick to their turf and don't mess with the other gangs. Other than that..." He finished with a shrug. "Any names you can help us with?" Blair asked from his perch on Gaines' desk. "Nope, sorry. But Siohban might be able to help you. If there's something to know, she's your woman." "Siohban Stubbs?" Jim asked, exchanging a knowing glance with his partner. "Yes. You know her?" "Not exactly. What can you tell us about her?" "Her kid, Daniel, did some time in Juvey for messing with a gang in Seattle. She was also involved with the gang, but the charges were dropped in exchange for her testimony against other gang members. They moved here after Daniel was released. I guess having her son locked away must have made quite an impact on her, because she's started campaigning against gangs. She has decided to warn other parents about the dangers of street gangs. The general public isn't really aware of the issue, so people have started to notice and listen when she speaks." "What do you mean?" Blair asked curiously. "She started speaking in schools, gathered quite a few supporters, and helped found MAG about four months ago. They've been advertising on radio and TV, and there was even a story about her in a magazine. She became the MAG coordinator last month. I've spoken to her a few times. She does a great job, knows a lot of people. The right kind of people. People with money, people who know other people, that kind of stuff." He scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Here. She'll be at the MAG Center this time of day. Here's the address." "What does MAG stand for?" Blair asked. "Mothers Against Gangs." Jim rose from his chair and shook the other detective's hand. "Thank you for your help." "I owed you, still do. I might be rotting in jail if it wasn't for you, Ellison. Anything else you need, call me." "I will. Come on, Chief. Let's pay Siohban Stubbs a visit." -------- "A penny for 'em," Blair smiled at his partner. "What makes you think I was thinking about anything in particular?" Jim teased, his eyes never leaving the road as he drove through the busy Cascade streets. "I can hear the rusty wheels turning. 'Fess up, Ellison." Jim sighed. "Just wondering what makes these kids join a gang, live by their codes --" "There are lots of reasons, Jim," Blair interjected softly. "For most of them it's the need for peer respect and approval, security and protection, group support and acceptance, age and sex role identification... You name it. These are very important things when you're growing up. Most of them don't get any of these things at home, so they form a kind of pack with others they can relate to. The problem is that once a kid is in, it's very difficult to get him away from the gang. There should be more awareness about gangs in our country. Parents should be warned about the danger, especially in lower-income neighborhoods like Bayside." "So you're saying it starts with the parents?" "In a way. Like everything else, this is about prevention. If you give your kid a safe and loving environment, it'll definitely help. Generally, you have two opposite cases with gang members. The kids either get too little attention or they get too much of the wrong kind. In the first case, you have mothers who decide they made a mistake and leave their children with grandma, or some other relative who doesn't really want them. An aunt, a cousin, whatever." He forged on, ignoring Jim's groan at the lecture-mode. "In the second case, you have the 'mama's little darling' category. These kids have mothers whose 'darling boy,' or girl for that matter, can do no wrong. They view their sons as being picked on or victimized by others. But the parents are not the only important factors. There are others -- the neighborhood where they live, the friendships they keep. Then there's the gun prevention thing, those new laws on youth crimes --" "So what do you propose we do?" "Oh, hey, I don't know, Jim. I don't have all the answers. One possible solution could be to try a Kibbutz type of school, where they teach kids some basic values. A school that cared for them, taught them, and tried to make up for any lack they may be experiencing at home. That showed them right from wrong." "It might be a good start," Jim agreed, parking the truck in front of the MAG center building. "We're here. Let's go speak to Siohban Stubbs." -------- Siobhan Stubbs was a petite brunette in her early thirties, with chocolate-brown eyes and a tired but friendly smile. She shook their hands and took them into her private office, away from prying eyes and the kids milling around in the center. "I'm Detective James Ellison, and this is Blair Sandburg," Jim introduced as they sat facing her. "We're investigating the attempted murder on Scott Grisham. We would like to ask you a few questions regarding the case." She nodded solemnly. "I understand, detective, believe me. I still can't believe someone would do such a thing. Grisha is such a good kid, easy-going and fun to be around... I assume you would like to know where I was last night?" she asked suddenly. "You don't seem surprised by our visit." She shook her head sadly. "I'm not. As soon as I heard about Grisha, I knew the police would be coming. He is the only witness on Daniel's murder trial, and much as it costs me, I know both my son and I are suspects. And since Daniel is in jail..." she took a shuddering breath. "I was attending a party. It was a fundraiser. MAG is a new organization and we need money desperately. The media was there, and I was the last speaker, so I had to remain until the very end. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when I left." Jim nodded. He would have to check her alibi, but everything about the woman made him think she was telling the truth. "Can you tell us exactly what happened two weeks ago with your son? It still might have some connection with Grisham's shooting," he explained. She sighed. "Daniel told me he got in a fight with another kid over a girl. I don't know exactly what happened, but he pulled up a knife and stabbed the other boy." She looked down at her hands. "I wanted us to start over, to put our past mistakes behind us -- that's why we moved here. I was going to warn people of the danger gangs represent, Danny was going back to school, we were going to have a normal life... I thought I could do a good job raising him alone, but I'm not so sure now. I was quite young and foolish in my teen years. Believed a lot of bull from the wrong guy and ended up pregnant. Never heard from the creep again, and after all these years, all I can say is good riddance to bad rubbish. But maybe if I'd given him a father Daniel wouldn't have done these things, he wouldn't have been this way..." She frowned abruptly. "I'm sorry for rambling. What do you want to know? How can I help?" "We were told Grisha was working for you," Blair ventured gently, working to draw more information out of her. "Not so much working for me, as with me. After I was nominated MAG's coordinator last month, I decided I needed to find a couple of kids who had the right image and attitude to be heard and respected by other kids. The kind that could speak against gangs to a full auditorium and make a positive impact. I scanned around the neighborhood and heard about the 'friendly giant,' Grisha's nickname around here. He was tall and built like a horse, walked carelessly through every gang's turf and nobody touched him or dared to face him. He was just what I'd prayed for. He'd graduated from high school, was the right age, had the free time to help out... Plus, he hated gangs." "So you recruited him," Jim guessed. "Yes," she admitted. "I spoke with him, explained what I was about and what I intended to do. He joined MAG, and very quickly became my main speaker." "So it's possible that this could be gang-related? We were told he had been speaking against the Bayside Knights rather loudly lately." She seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I can't tell you for certain whether this is a Knights' hit, Detective. We did get an unexpected visitor yesterday, though, a teenager who said his name was Keanu. He said he was from Seattle and that it was urgent for him to speak with Grisha. I don't know why he came here instead of going to his house, or why he came at all. None of the kids seemed to know him. I wasn't here at the time, but the kids told me about it as soon as I arrived. They didn't give him Grisha's address, but I guess he could have found it some other way. I'll ask one of the kids to give you a description before you leave." "Thank you, that would be very helpful. Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted to kill Grisha?" Jim asked. "Actually, yes. I know this will only make things harder for you, but there is someone else you should talk to. Grisha had been dating a girl named Valentina Sanchez for the past couple of weeks. Her brother belongs to the Latin Lords gang. I heard he was looking for Grisha a few days ago. Word is that his sister was raped and that he thought Grisha had done it. I spoke to Grisha and he told me not to worry, that he would handle it. This was two days ago. I don't know if he actually took care of it, or if Jose Sanchez decided to kill him for his sister's rape. Nobody who knew Grisha believed him capable of doing such a thing, myself included." "Okay. I think we have enough for now," Jim decided. "Here's my card. If you remember anything else, please call me. By the way, you wouldn't happen to know Sanchez' address, would you?" She scratched her nose pensively. "I think so, let me check the archives," she opened one of the desk drawers, rummaging inside. "I keep as much information on the gangs as possible, and since Jose is one of the Latin Lords... Ah, here it is!" she exclaimed, handing him a small card. "This is their address; they live with their father. Their mother died a few months ago from breast cancer. Come on, I'll walk you out and get one of the kids to give you Keanu's description." They followed her out of the office and into a small rec room where several kids were hanging around, playing pool or cards, or just listening to music. Siohban gestured towards a young girl, who approached them slowly. "This is Sunna. Sunna, this is Detective Ellison. I need you to give him a description of yesterday's visitor, Keanu, okay?" The young girl nodded, her wide brown eyes turning towards Jim. "He was tall and thin-looking. He had a shaved head, dark eyes, and a small scar above his left eyebrow." "That's a pretty good description," Jim commented, surprised at the thorough details. Sunna shrugged. "I like to draw, so I notice stuff. It's no big deal." "Thank you for your help. And yours, Ms. Stubbs." She smiled. "You're welcome. Well, I have work to do. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to call... or visit," she added. With a parting smile, she moved off to speak with a group of kids. -------- Jim had just finished talking to the Seattle PD again when the door to Simon's office opened wide. "Ellison, Sandburg, my office please." After the partners were seated before him, he asked, "How's the Grisham case coming along?" "Slowly," Blair replied. "The first suspects are cleared. Daniel Stubbs is in jail awaiting trial and his mother's alibi checked out. She was at a party and was seen by several people at the time of the shooting. There are three main possibles right now. First, anyone from the Bayside Knights, as Grisha had been campaigning against them lately. Then there's the member of the Hispanic gang Latin Lords who may have done it because there was a rumor Grisha had raped his sister, and finally a kid named Keanu who is supposedly from Seattle and was looking for Grisha yesterday." "I called Seattle and the only Keanu that fits the description we were given is a Keanu Davis, ex-member of the Loop Crew gang," Jim stated. "He did some time in Juvey, got out about four months ago. Detective Henderson said the kid is keeping clean and has even helped the cops a time or two on gang-related crimes. He's going to meet up with Keanu and tell him to call us." "Think he'll do it?" Simon asked doubtfully. "Yes. From what I was told, I don't think he was the one who shot Grisha. It was probably just a coincidence that he was looking for him yesterday. But I'm curious about what could've made him come all the way from Seattle just to speak to him." "How's Grisha?" Blair asked softly. "Surprisingly, still fighting for his life. The doctors are amazed he's still alive, but that doesn't change things. Even if he does pull through, he was shot in the head. There's bound to be some serious damage," Simon replied with a grimace. "What's your next move?" "We're going to talk to the Sanchez family after lunch," Jim replied grimly. "I want this case wrapped up as soon as possible, Jim. Grisham was beginning to gather attention to the gang scene and to himself. The media is turning the heat on us and so is the Mayor." "We'll do our best, Simon." "Then that will be all, gentlemen. Get me some results -- fast." They left Simon's office and went straight to the elevator. "Where are we going for lunch?" Blair asked. "There are some cool places in Little Havana. And it's close to the Sanchez' address." Taking advantage of the fact they were alone in the elevator, Jim pushed the button to stop its descent. Ignoring the blare of the alarm, he embraced his partner gently. "You've been quiet today," he whispered into a pierced ear. "Just thinking," Blair breathed against him. "This is all such a waste, you know? Some of these kids are so bright, could accomplish so much in their lives. Instead they join gangs, most of them abandon school, leave their homes. Those lucky enough to stay out of jail end up dead in some dark alley, killed by some other kid." He sighed deeply. "And I need a good night's sleep." "I know, Chief. How about we go someplace away from Cascade when this case is over? We can go camping or fishing somewhere. What do you think?" Blair gave him a wide smile. "I'd like that, Jim." "Good," Jim purred, capturing his lover's lips and ravishing the sweet mouth until they were both out of breath. "Oh, yeah," he grinned, enjoying the sight of bruised lips and darkened blue eyes. "You're evil, Ellison," Blair stated with a grin of his own, watching Jim push the button that would take them down. "Yep. But you love me anyway," he leered, leaving the elevator just in time to avoid Blair's mock-punch. -------- Sanchez Senior was not at home, but his two children were. A young man opened the door for them, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he stared at the partners. "Jose Sanchez?" Jim asked. "Yeah, so? What do you want, pig?" he snarled as soon as Jim showed him his badge. "To talk to you about Scott Grisham's attempted murder," Jim replied as he eased his way into the living room. "We heard you were looking for him." "You bet I was! That bastardo raped my sister, man! Look at her!" He gestured towards the couch where Valentina sat quietly. No more than sixteen years old, she had a beautiful face, framed by long, brown hair, and sad, almond-shaped eyes. Her brother, Jose, was very much like her, but could've easily been twenty years old if you went by his build. "She hasn't said a word since it happened! She doesn't go out, she doesn't move unless we make her. She just sits there and stares at nothing! He destroyed her!" "Has she been seen by a doctor? Do you have any evidence --" Jim began. "No way, man," Jose interjected with a shake of his head. "Our viejo, our old man, wouldn't let me. Said no stranger had the right to meddle in our affairs." "If she hasn't spoken since the rape, how do you know it was Grisha?" Blair asked. "They went to the movies that night. I saw them leaving together, then went out myself. When I came home a few hours later she was laying in her bed, crying. She'd been beaten; there was blood all over the place... I wanted to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands for what he did." "So did you?" Jim asked, focusing his senses on Jose's vital signs to determine if he was telling the truth. "No. He was never alone during the day and I didn't want to kill him at home. His mother is a nice woman -- I've met her in the 'hood a few times and she was always very good to us. She didn't deserve to find her son's body. So I was waiting for the right moment to do it." "That's very thoughtful of you." Jim couldn't help the sarcasm. Only gangs could have such a twisted sense of honor regarding murder. "I assume you have an alibi for last night?" "I was with my homies. I can give you some names, if you want." "I want. Have you ever heard the name Keanu Davis?" "No." "All right. Give me the names." While Jim scribbled down the Latin Lords' names, Blair moved closer to Valentina. His heart broke at the desolation surrounding the girl. Such a young one to have been through such a terrible thing. He knelt down beside her. "Hi, Valentina, I'm Blair. I'm so sorry this happened to you, sweetheart. But you know, this is not your fault. No matter what anyone might have told you, no one had the right to do such a thing to you. I know it hurts right now, sweetie, but you need to start talking again," he told her softly, his voice as gentle as he could make it. "You don't have to talk to the police if you don't want to, nobody's going to make you. But you need someone to help you deal with all the emotions inside you. Jose will help you, he's worried about you." He thought he saw something flash in her eyes, so he pressed on. "He loves you very much, Valentina, and he needs you back again." A tear fell down her cheek and he wondered if he should keep speaking to her. He didn't know exactly what he was doing; he could end up causing her further pain. But she seemed to be in shock and the longer she remained that way, the harder it would be to bring her back. "Valentina, there are people who can help you, who you can talk to, who can help make things better. Your family can help as well, they'll --" she suddenly looked into his eyes and he stopped talking. He held his breath as she slowly knelt down beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head falling into his shoulder. He felt her tears soaking into his shirt, but let her cry, hands caressing her hair gently, soothing words surrounding them both. "It's okay, honey. That's it, let it out. It's going to be okay." He was totally unaware of the startled stares from Jose and Jim. Jose shook his head in confusion. "I don't believe this, man. I've been trying to get a response out of her since it happened. Your partner tells her three words and she starts crying?" "This isn't just simple depression, Jose. She's hurting and in shock. And she won't be okay for a long time," Jim snapped angrily. "I'd guess that the reason she hasn't said a word was because she was afraid of your reaction. I bet you've been storming through the house threatening to kill Grisha loud enough for the neighbors to hear." "I just -- She's my baby sister, man. I love her. All I ever wanted was to protect her from the fucked up world outside." "Jim." Jim turned to see his lover still on the floor with Valentina, looking pale and haggard. "What's wrong, Chief?" "They can't stay here anymore. We have to find them somewhere they can stay for a while." "Why?" Jose asked with a frown. "Your sister just told me who raped her. It wasn't Grisha, Jose. It was your father." "What?!" Jose exclaimed, then ran up to Valentina, taking her into his arms. "Why? Por que? Dios mio, por que?" Hugging her brother tightly, she whispered, "Said it was my duty now that mama was dead. That he needed someone to take care of his needs. I said no, but..." "Jesus!" Jim whispered, knowing he was as white as his partner. He snatched his cell phone from his pocket, calling Simon and telling him what was going on. A few minutes later, they had a temporary house to harbor the two Sanchez kids and a squad car was on the way to pick up their father at work. "Valentina, we're going to arrest your father, but the only way to keep him in jail is if you testify against him. Will you do that?" Blair asked, gently. She looked up at her brother, who nodded. "Nothing will happen to you, Val. I won't let him hurt you anymore. If I have to, I'll have the Lords kill the bastard. Or I'll do it myself." "No, you won't. Your sister needs you to be with her, not behind bars for your father's murder," Jim reminded. "Go pack some clothes and anything else you feel you need to take with you. We're taking you to the place where you'll be staying." -------- That night, they were warming some leftovers for dinner, talking quietly and enjoying the solitude and comfort of home, when Jim felt the familiar smell of cigars that always meant Simon to him. He opened the door before the captain even had the chance to knock. "Have I told you before how much I hate it when you do that?" Simon groused as he walked in and followed Jim to the living room. "Several times," Jim replied with a grin. "Want a beer?" "Don't mind if I do," Simon said, watching as Blair brought them all beers from the kitchen. "How's your friend handling having the Sanchez kids with her? Jose is liable to be a handful," Jim remarked. "She's fine with it. Besides being from Puerto Rico, which means they won't be able to talk behind her back, she has a degree in psychology, so she might be able to talk to the girl." "What's going to happen to their father?" Blair asked grimly. "I talked with a few people and managed to get a few things done. He'll stay in jail until the trial, no bail was set. There's no way the scumbag will get near that girl again. If she's willing to testify, he'll rot in jail, which is where he belongs." Blair shook his head. "I know I should be getting used to this stuff by now, but somehow I can't." "Nobody gets used to something like this, kid. We're trained officers, and I still felt sick when Jim called. All I could think about was Daryl. I don't understand how any parent could do such a thing to their own child. It's beyond my comprehension. Anyway, that's not why I came. The Grisham kid died about two hours ago. The stakes have gone up; we're talking murder now." "How's Mrs. Grisham?" Jim asked. "Devastated. Any news on the case?" "Well, we're pretty sure that Sanchez didn't kill him, but I'm still going to talk to a few of his 'home boys' tomorrow morning. Without him, we're down to two main possibilities -- Keanu Davis or the Knights. There's no word from Keanu Davis, but my instincts are telling me he didn't have anything to do with the murder. And we still don't have any names on the Bayside Knights. I'm going to talk to Siohban Stubbs again tomorrow. I already called Gaines and asked him to join us. They know each other, so it might go better with him there." "Okay. I'll be off then." "Want to join us for dinner? We're having some leftover pizza and salad. There's enough for three." Simon smiled tightly. "No, thank you, Sandburg. Wouldn't want to feel like a third wheel." "Oh, come on, man, would we do that to you?" Blair asked, then relented under Simon's mock glare. "Okay. Point taken." "Goodnight, guys." "'Night, Simon." After the captain left, Blair checked on their dinner and Jim set the table, moving two of the chairs as close together as possible. He placed the pizza and the salad on the table while Blair grabbed a couple more beers from the fridge, then sat down. Realizing Jim was staring intensively at him, Blar grinned. "Will you quit doing that? I'm fine!" Jim grinned back. "Yeah?" "Yeah. I wish Grisha hadn't died, and I wish Valentina had never been raped by that bastard. But there's nothing we can do to change that, no matter how much I wish it were possible. All we can do is try to make things better. Catch whoever killed Grisha and make sure Valentina's father stays in jail for a long time." "I just wonder sometimes." Blair nodded. "I know. But nothing will change. For each evil thing that I face by your side, you show me the other side, the good that can be done. Each time you catch a bad guy and get enough on him to lock him up for good, each time you help a victim, each time you care. It's enough. I know you won't always win, I've witnessed that often enough, but you do it enough to make a difference. And so does Simon, and H, and all the other good cops that you work with. As long as you keep showing me that, I'll never give up. I might get knocked down occasionally, but I'll be back on my feet again. By your side." "That was -- quite a speech, Sandburg," Jim choked out hoarsely. Blair gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, well... I have to keep you on your toes, man. You never know when another neo-hippie witchdoctor punk might fall into your path and try to steal you away from me." "Never going to happen, Chief," Jim assured, brushing his lips against Blair's. "You're the only punk I'm interested in." He chuckled as the young man mock-punched him. "Just make sure you don't go falling for another Joe Friday." "Oh, I don't know... Joel is looking mighty fine these days, man. And he asked me out last week. You better watch out, Ellison. He outranks you, too." "Smart-ass." They finished dinner, then cleared everything away in time to catch a Jags game on TV. Jim grabbed them both a third beer, and they sat on the couch, watching the game and making out during the commercials. When the game was finally over, Blair leaned into Jim's body, burying his face in the curve of his neck and shoulder. "Take me to bed," he whispered softly. They made their way to the room upstairs, removing each other's clothes and lying down on the soft sheets. They rolled back and forth on the big bed, clinging to one another in growing desperation. They didn't speak as their bodies moved to a world-ancient rhythm. Finally, sated and exhausted, they just snuggled up together and fell asleep.