Disclaimer: Jim, Blair and Simon aren't mine. In fact, nobody in this whole story is mine. No profits, feedback is my only reward.
Yippee! I got a Beta reader! Thanks Eagle Eye! She sure lives up to her name. She can spot an errant comma at twenty paces. This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship. This story is dedicated to Legion, for reminding me what writing is really about. My brilliant block-breaker.
Dear Cascade Librarians and Guideposts Elves, please post this to your sites for now. Me and MegaRed's Big Mess have been havin' words. I'll let you know when I get it put up at my NEW, non Geosh*tty site. Gracias!
Lessee. Missing scene for Survival. Spoilers for (duh) Survival. I think that's all. * * * * * SURVIVAL TACTICS
"Quinn! We have the money!"
Choking and gasping, Simon helped Blair through the thick, damp smoke, and toward the opening of the mine shaft, dragging the duffel of stolen cash behind them. The desperate captain hoped that by giving up the money, he could convince Quinn to spare their lives.
Those hopes were dashed as he stepped into the light and saw the look of cold rage on the fugitive's face. This was a man who was not into mercy. Simon froze, one hand going protectively around Blair's shoulders as Quinn raised the gun. He wanted the young man to know that he was there, beside him. Sandburg was not going to face death alone. The observer's bruised face was a mask of anxious fear as he slowly raised both hands in a futile attempt to show submission.
Quinn cocked the weapon and aimed. Simon braced himself, half closing his eyes and leaning closer to his young charge. /Sorry Jim, I tried to protect him.../ The first shot came. Instead of feeling a bullet pierce his flesh, a burst of heated air slammed like a solid weight into his side. He was knocked sideways into the support beam of the tunnel, half flattening Blair. He was barely able to catch the wounded man as Sandburg rebounded against him.
Sheltering the observer from the debris raining down, Banks realized dimly through the chaos what had happened. Jim had gotten to them in time and had somehow caused the explosion to distract Quinn. He saw the Sentinel barreling through the wreckage toward the evil convict, who was struggling toward his gun. It was going to be close.
Suddenly, he spotted Quinn's woman headed for her own gun. Quickly but gently settling Blair in what he hoped was a safe spot at the mouth of the mine shaft, Banks charged. He tackled the young woman, who proved to be much stronger than she looked. It took him a long time-and many rolls in the mud-to finally overpower her. At last, he had her pinned, using his formidable weight to keep her immobile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blair reaching for the gun of the dead mountain man who had shot him. When Simon was sure the grad student would be able to cover Lisa, he turned his attention back to Jim.
He scrambled to his feet, hearing Blair's strained voice warning the girl to stay where she was. But his main focus was on Ellison, who now had Quinn bent backwards over the edge of the vertical shaft where the money had been stashed. Banks knew for a fact that the shaft was deep, and a fall to the bottom guaranteed deadly. As he came up beside his detective, Simon recognized the cold rage in the piercing blue eyes. A killing rage.
Endless seconds ticked by, Simon holding his breath as he watched the intense emotions flow across Jim's face. Was he only remembering Brodie, or was it also Blair's endangerment that filled the sentinel's eyes with hatred? The captain waited until he was certain his detective wasn't going to kill Quinn before saying softly, "Jim."
Ellison glared down at the frantic face of the man who had killed Brodie so long ago, who had also tried to kill his captain and partner. Banks saw the exact moment the younger man realized it wasn't worth it, and breathed a sigh of relief as Jim turned the slimy convict around to cuff him. He obediently took hold of Quinn as the detective handed him off, then watched him cross to where Lisa still huddled on the muddy ground.
Quinn's only surviving accomplice made no attempts to escape as she was hauled to her feet and marched to a nearby tree, where she was tied securely. Simon dragged Quinn along with him as he watched Jim finish securing the resigned young woman, then turn wearily toward Blair.
Quickly moving to Blair's side, the sentinel reached out and carefully took the gun from the young man's trembling hands, setting it aside. Next he knelt, framed the pale face gently in his hands, and began to examine Sandburg for injuries. As Simon moved closer with his prisoner, he could hear the detective's voice, low and soothing.
"You okay?" Jim leaned down and wrapped his arms around Sandburg, who hugged him back with as much enthusiasm as could be expected, given his current physical state. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry for letting this happen to you."
"Jim," Blair countered with an exasperated sigh. "You didn't let anything happen, I was the one who insisted on coming with you, remember? You wanted me to...,"
The rest of Blair's words were muffled as he pressed his face into Jim's jacket. The two friends were quiet for a minute, just holding each other. Then Simon saw a look of contented relief on Blair's pale, bruised face as he stretched up to rest his chin on Ellison's broad shoulder. The blue eyes closed, a soft smile curling the corners of Sandburg's mouth as Jim's hand moved up to cup the back of his head.
Jim must have said something amusing, because the anthropologist's soft, childlike laughter floated back to Simon as he secured Quinn to a second tree. He turned the criminal toward the tree and away from the tender reunion, securing the convict with a length of rope. After a short pause, the big man looped the heavy cord through the handcuffs for added security. No way was he taking the chance of this bastard giving them the slip again.
"What's up with those two?" Dawson snarled as he was fastened. "Don't tell me Ellison and that little pip-squeak are doing the nasty?" He snickered and spat on the ground, oblivious to the captain's bristling.
"Shut up," Banks growled, as he tied off the rope, cinching the bonds just a little tighter than was really necessary. Quinn grunted slightly, but didn't back down.
"Well, don't worry," the self-destructive felon continued, ignoring the dangerous tone in his captor's voice. "As soon as I get out again, I plan to pay them both a visit. I'll find out." He followed with a laugh; an evil, bone-chilling sound that gave Banks goosebumps.
"Maybe I'll even get to try the little guy out myself, see what Ellison finds so appealing."
The captain had to clench his fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep from physically attacking Quinn. To do so would only give the sneering psycho added satisfaction, not to mention possibly jeopardizing what promised to be an open and shut case. In the end, Simon counted to ten and settled for giving the baiting bastard a serene smile, then turned away to join his friends.
Jim still had his arms around Blair as Simon dropped to his knees beside them. The captain reached out to lay a hand on his detective's shoulder as the sentinel continued to croon quiet words of reassurance and comfort to his tousel-haired companion. Ellison started at the contact, turning and automatically switching back into Protector Mode. Banks held up a hand in reassurance, surprised to see the tell-tale shine of unshed tears in Jim's eyes. These were hastily scrubbed away as the suddenly self-conscious detective gently eased Blair back against the support post and turned to survey the situation.
"Are they both good and secure?" Jim asked, nodding toward the two criminals. Banks nodded and smiled a bit when his officer sighed in relief. Ellison froze for a long moment, apparently looking inward. Simon was about to warn Blair of a possible zone-out, when Jim briefly shook his head and turned to him.
"I think we may be here for the night, Simon," Jim said with a frown. "I can't hear anyone else in the vicinity, nothing. It could take them a while to find us." The sentinel turned to study his partner, who was dozing against the support beam behind him.
Simon winced up at the rapidly darkening sky. "I think you're right," he said. He glanced over as Jim took off his coat and moved to wrap it around his partner's shoulders. The activity roused Blair, and he tried to push the garment back toward Jim, shaking his head and opening his mouth to protest.
"Shh," Jim scolded gently, with a kind smile. "You're getting shocky, Chief, you need to stay warm." He finished bundling Blair in the coat, then carefully gathered him up, mindful of the injured leg.
Simon stood and lent a hand as Jim got to his feet with Blair in his arms. The young man wrapped his arms around his partner's neck and snuggled close as his Blessed Protector turned and carried him back into the mine shaft. Banks followed, shaking his head, once more amazed at Blair's ability to bring out the rarely-seen doting side of Detective James Ellison. "I think we'll be better off in here, Simon," Jim called back over his shoulder. "We'll have some shelter from the cold, at least." He stopped just around the first bend, where they'd taken cover when Blair was first shot by Wade. He gently eased his burden down and began to check over the leg wound.
"How's he doing?" Simon asked, coming to kneel beside them again, automatically picking up another of the rags they'd torn up before. He held it out, but Jim shook his head.
"It's okay, it's not bleeding." Jim smiled up at Simon. "That's a miracle after what you guys went through. One lucky thing, at least." He stood and motioned for Banks to follow as he moved a few steps from Blair. "Simon," he whispered, "look, we have to keep him warm tonight, or he'll go deeper into shock." The sentinel glanced back over his shoulder where Blair was starting to drowse again. "He's lost a lot of blood and..." He left the sentence hanging, as if unwilling to put his feelings into words. Simon laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance as his detective looked up at him.
"It's going to be okay, Jim," The big captain said gently. "He's a strong kid. He'll be fine." Banks smiled as Jim nodded gratefully.
"Jim?"
Both men turned at the plaintive call. They were on their knees beside Blair in an instant, and the young man chuckled a little.
"Boy, now that's what I call service," the observer said, grinning despite the pain. "Wish I didn't have to be on the brink of death to get it," he added wearily.
"Hey," Jim said firmly. "You're not going to die, Chief." He leaned down and gently ruffled Blair's curls, grinning at the annoyed sigh that resulted.
"Jiiiim!" Blair whined, ducking away and looking beseechingly toward Simon.
Banks just smiled. Then he watched as Jim stood and moved to stand in the mouth of the mine shaft. Curious, the captain followed and watched as the sentinel reached out one hand in front of him, as if feeling the air. The blue eyes turned skyward for a few seconds, then settled back on Simon.
"Yep, just as I thought. The wind is picking up," Jim said, kneeling to gather up a few small pieces of the broken support beams that lay scattered on the floor. "It should create enough of a draw across the mouth of the shaft to suck the smoke out. I think we can risk a small campfire, now." Jim stood with his armful of lumber and moved back into the mine, Simon on his heels.
"You sure, Jim?" Banks asked skeptically. "I mean, you saw what happened when Quinn built a fire before." He looked on as Jim dumped his wood in a pile on the floor a few feet from Sandburg.
"Yeah," Jim said nodding. "But that was wet leaves, which would produce lots of smoke. This is dry wood." He laid a ring of stones around the wood, then produced a lighter and touched the flame to a small piece of kindling. "Plus, before there was no wind to draw out the smoke. So it just came back into the shaft." The sentinel sat back on his heels as the flames grew, filling the cavern with light and warmth.
Simon watched the fire grow, anxiously eyeing the smoke that began to billow above the flames. Then he smiled as the smoke changed direction, moving toward the mouth of the mine shaft. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief when he got a lungful of clean, smokeless air.
Blair was trying to move closer to the fire, and he smiled as Jim slipped his arms under him and slid him across the hard dirt floor. When he was settled, the young man stretched his hands toward the happily dancing flames, rubbing them together. He was soon joined on either side by Jim and Simon, all making sure to stay on the smoke-free side of the fire.
It was only minutes before the young observer's eyelids began to droop again. He didn't resist as Jim eased him down onto his side a few feet from the campfire, careful not to jostle the injured leg. As the detective tended to his friend, Simon excused himself to make use of a tree just outside the cavern.
While outside, Banks checked on their prisoners, making sure they were still secure. Quinn was subdued, too worn out to even insult Banks as he tested the fugitive's bonds. Lisa was equally quiet, the remains of tears still visible on her muddy face. Simon wasn't moved in the slightest.
On the way back to their shelter, Simon gathered up what dry wood he could find, hoping it would be enough to last the night through. When he returned to the little corner of the mine that his friends occupied, he smiled. Blair was sound asleep, his head pillowed on Jim's thigh. The sentinel was tenderly stroking Blair's wet curls, eyes far away, lost in thought.
"Jim, you okay?" Simon asked softly as he set his firewood down. He came to sit at Jim's side, one hand going to rest on the smaller man's shoulder. "Jim?"
Ellison took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly. "What else is going to happen to him, Simon?" he asked softly. Looking down at his sleeping friend, he moved one hand to gently brush across Blair's cheek. "How long before he gets killed for being my Guide?" Jim closed his eyes, bowing his head as Simon's hand tightened on his shoulder.
"Hey," Simon whispered. "Come on, now. You know Blair doesn't feel that way." The captain moved in front of Jim, leaning down so the other man was forced to meet his eyes. "Jim, if the kid wanted out, he'd be long gone by now, you know that. He's here because he wants to be here..." The older man paused, then added quietly, "Because he loves you."
Jim's head came up sharply, causing Blair to stir a little. The sentinel quickly leaned down to breathe a stream of whispered reassurances to the young man, who sighed and settled into his lap once more. When Jim straightened again, his face was lined with worry.
"Simon, I know he loves me. Believe me, the feeling's mutual." A fond smile touched the corners of Jim's mouth, lessening the grimness in his eyes for just a moment. "I love this crazy kid more than I've ever loved another person. Ever. I mean, he's my life... everything... to me."
"I know that," Simon replied. Jim lifted his head and gazed evenly into the captain's eyes, his own blue eyes intense with emotion.
"But... how can I continue to let him hang around me, if it means he's constantly at risk?" The sentinel's voice began to rise. "I mean, God, Simon! He got shot! He could have..." Jim lowered his voice as Simon held a finger to his lips and pointed toward Blair, who's eyelids had lifted slightly. Both men waited, silent, until the blue eyes drifted shut again. When he was sure Sandburg was not going to awaken, Jim spoke again, keeping his voice low and more controlled.
"He could have died today, sir." The detective closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "What if the bullet had hit his femoral artery? No way would we have been able to stop the bleeding before... before he...."
"But it didn't," Simon pointed out gently, still holding Jim's shoulder. "It didn't. Blair is safe, and he's going to live a long, long time." Banks smiled as Jim looked into his eyes, the inner battle to believe evident on the sentinel's face. "I plan on being annoyed by the two of you for a good many years to come, detective."
After a long moment Jim just sighed, smiled faintly at his Captain, and carefully shifted to lay down beside Blair. He pulled the duffel of money across the floor toward himself, and carefully propped Blair's head on it. He rested his own head on the makeshift pillow as well, and gently pulled the sleeping observer against his chest, wrapping him in his arms.
Simon decided to sit up and tend to the fire for a while as his friends slept. He moved to lean back against the wall, and was just settling down when Jim moaned. Banks sat up straight, and saw Blair stir at his partner's pained sound.
"Mmm... Jim?" Came the faint, sleepy mumble. Sandburg propped himself up on one elbow, wincing, the motion apparently sending a slight pain down his leg. "Jim, y'okay? What is it?"
Ellison sat up, rubbing his back. "Sorry, Chief, I didn't mean to wake you. It's just... I can feel every single tiny bump on this floor." Jim winced as he lay back down, shifting to try and find a comfortable spot.
Simon watched, transfixed as Blair began to speak softly to Jim, saying something about turning down dials, tuning out his surroundings. Not a minute went by before the sound of a snore issued from the sentinel's prone figure. Sandburg looked over and smiled at Simon, then lay back down and snuggled close to his partner.
Feeling a twinge of jealousy, Simon tossed another log on the fire, watching the sparks dance and fly up into the air. He looked over at Blair and Jim sleeping peacefully, tangled together, oblivious to the world around them. Closeness of that caliber was rare these days, especially between men. So few people would ever find their soulmate. Only a fraction of those would recognize their other half when fate did allow their paths to cross. What his two closest friends shared was something very special. It made Banks feel honored to know them, yet just a tad bitter to still be outside the circle.
With these thoughts, Simon closed his eyes and slipped into an exhausted slumber.
After what seemed like only minutes, Banks awoke with a start, his mind filled with images of the bullet passing through Blair's thigh. He looked around, trying to remember where he was, wondering what had awakened him. His bed felt like a pile of rocks, and the air was damp and musty. As he took in his surroundings he remembered; he was spending the night in a mine shaft with Jim and Blair. Quinn and his accomplice were tied up outside.
The fire had gone out and the cavern was freezing, indicating that a few hours had passed. Simon sat up to rebuild the fire and squinted at the figures laying across from him. Figure. Singular. Blair was gone.
With a gasp, he stood, eyes searching the darkness for any sign of the injured young man. Jim was sound asleep, which surprised him. He'd have thought the sentinel would have awakened the moment Blair left. But then he remembered listening as Sandburg had coaxed Jim into slumber before, helping him turn down his senses so the hard floor of the cavern wouldn't keep him awake. No doubt Ellison's senses were still turned down, which would explain why he seemed to be unaware of his young partner's absence.
Banks was about to wake the detective when he heard a muffled groan from the entrance of the mine shaft. He got to his feet, wincing as sore muscles that had seized up while he slept made themselves known. Following the sound, he turned the corner and headed toward the square of moonlit forest, immediately spotting a figure slumped against the wall. He broke into a jog and skidded to a halt beside Blair.
"Sandburg?" The captain whispered, not wanting to wake Jim. "Blair, you all right? What are you doing up, kid?" The young man looked up at him with wide blue eyes full of pain, and Banks was amused to actually see a blush beginning in the bruised cheeks.
"I... was gonna look for more wood," Blair mumbled. He looked away in embarrassment as he added softly, "And... I have to go."
"Go where?" Simon asked. He felt like a complete ass when Sandburg just raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh!" Banks started to chuckle, he couldn't help it. When Blair gave him a dirty look and began to retort, he raised a hand and motioned the young man to be quiet, gesturing back toward Jim.
"C'mon," the big man whispered, getting his arm around the smaller man's waist. "Lean on me." He bent over slightly to allow Blair to wrap an arm around his neck, then half dragged the young man out of the mine and over to a large tree. There he propped him up and politely turned away as the anthropologist took care of his business.
A feeling he was being watched tickled the back of Simon's neck, and he looked over at Quinn. A salacious leer painted the criminal's face, being directed at Blair. Casually, so as not to bring the observer's attention to Quinn, Simon moved to block the bastard's view. He remained silent, his stony glare speaking clearly enough. /Don't even think about it, scumbag./
When he heard the zip of Blair's fly, he turned and offered his shoulder again. Blair leaned into him, and they started back to their shelter. They'd only gone a few steps, when the observer tripped over a rock. He bit off a short cry of pain as his leg gave out, and Simon grabbed him as he started to fall. He held Sandburg up, waiting for him to regain his footing, but the injured leg seemed to be having other ideas, refusing to support its owner's weight. Finally, Banks just scooped the young man up in his massive arms and resumed walking.
Blair lay still for a few moments, eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the pain to dissipate. When it did, he glanced around and realized he was being carried by the Captain of Major Crimes. "Simon," he began, embarrassed, trying to push at the big arms holding him.
"Shhh, you'll wake Jim," Simon murmured, grinning. The grin became a smile as Blair wrapped both arms around his neck and curled more tightly into his hold. The trip back to their makeshift camp was uneventful and quick, and soon Banks was easing to his knees to gently deposit Sandburg onto the floor beside Jim. He felt his heart warmed as the sentinel seemed to detect the young man's presence, even in sleep, and snuggled up against him. Blair burrowed in, nestling against Jim's chest as the other man's arms slipped around him and held him tight. He was asleep before Simon even stood up.
Gazing down at the sleeping youth, the captain felt a wave of affection. He shook his head as he turned and moved back down the shaft for more wood. As he knelt and loaded his arms, he puzzled over how wonderful it had felt to cradle Blair's warmth to his chest, to protect and care for him. For some reason, that boy brought out all of Simon's fatherly instincts. He was beginning to see why Ellison was so attentive toward the young man; something about Sandburg just called for love and protection.
Carrying the new load of firewood, he returned to the camp and laid his burden down in a neat pile. He rebuilt the fire, stealthily snagging Jim's lighter from the pocket of the sentinel's jeans. When the flames were crackling away again, Banks leaned over to inspect his friends. Blair was shivering in his sleep, trying to cuddle closer to Jim. The sentinel responded by wrapping his arms tighter around the slim figure, but the young observer continued to tremble with cold.
Simon added two more logs to the fire, urging the blaze higher. Then he crawled silently around the two sleepers, placing himself strategically between Blair and the warmth-leeching rock wall at his back. When he was settled, he reached out and gently brushed Sandburg's hair back from his forehead, smiling at the innocence of the young, sleeping face.
As he watched, another shiver ran through the compact form. Sitting up, Simon carefully stripped off his sweater and gently draped it over Blair's body. He sighed as the youth pulled the heavy wool garment tightly around him. As Banks laid back down, he was surprised by Blair snuggling back against him, one slender hand sneaking from beneath the sweater to grasp his arm. The warm feeling that had been growing now radiated through his body at this gesture of trust. Careful not to disturb him, Simon wrapped his arms around the young man and held him tight, adding his own body's warmth to Jim's. Hopefully, together they'd provide enough heat to keep the injured man safe and warm.
* * * * *
The next morning, Simon was awakened by the WHUP WHUP WHUP WHUP of helicopter blades. He raised his head to find Jim already gone and Blair snuggled against his chest, soaking up his body heat like a parasite. After checking that the young man was still warmly cocooned in his sweater, the big man got to his feet and walked out into the overcast daylight. He saw Jim standing in the clearing a few feet away, guiding the rescue team down.
Jim looked around as Simon came toward him. With quick instructions for the captain to take care of Quinn, he disappeared back into the mine. Banks busied himself with reporting to the Feds and park rangers, tactfully refraining from commenting on the length of time it had taken for them to arrive. Soon, Quinn and Lisa were safely in custody and headed for prison. Simon turned as the team of medics finally touched down, and saw Jim striding toward them from the mine, cradling Blair in his arms once more.
Sandburg seemed to enjoy the fuss everyone made over him, even finding the energy to openly flirt with the federal agent. After Jim handed him his cigar case, Simon hung back and watched as the sentinel knelt beside his partner in the stretcher. He didn't want to intrude on what appeared to be a private moment. Running his thumb over the soft leather of Darryl's gift, he mulled over the events of the past few days. He was a lucky man, in many respects. Things could have happened very differently. But most of all, he realized how lucky he was to have those two in his life.
He stepped forward as the chopper rose, its dangling passenger making his displeasure with the situation abundantly clear. Banks and Jim just looked at each other, then back up at the swinging gurney, shaking their heads as Blair's cries echoed through the canyon. Ellison had a mildly sadistic smile on his face, but Simon could see the discomfort in the blue eyes as the anthropologist continued to wail for him. He reached out and draped an arm over Jim's shoulders, jostling the younger man in what he hoped was a comforting way. In unison, the two men focused on the distant chopper, and sighed.
They were gonna owe the kid a lot more than dinner. Simon wondered briefly if the Classic Volvo he'd seen advertised on the precinct bulletin board was still available.
THE END
