Disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No profit is being made from the posting of this story.

Acknowledgments: My sincere thanks to Mary, Lyn, and B, whose help always improves my stories. I can't say enough good things about these gals!

Rating: FRT (PG)

Warnings: None

Category: Post TSbyBS, Song fic -- Two Different Directions, Written and Performed by John Denver (lyrics in italics).

Summary: Simon reflects on two friends who have become lovers.

Comments welcome and appreciated!

Simon Banks stood in his office and looked out over the bullpen. At Jim's desk, the detective and his soon-to-be official partner, Blair Sandburg, were hunched over a file, studying the contents. They were so close the tops of their heads nearly met, their hands layered together in a touch that was tender, but not blatantly obvious.

They say they love each other
I've no doubt they do
They say they'll always be together
That may not be true

The captain shook his head. He'd seen it coming, and like a witness to a train wreck he'd stood by and watched it happen. Jim had been a friend for many years now, and when he had come by in confidentiality to tell Simon that he and Blair were now officially a couple, Simon had not been overly surprised. He wished them the best of luck and prayed they'd beat the odds, but in his heart he wondered if they just might be too different from one another to make a relationship last.

They come from different places
Different points of view
They find themselves in different spaces
Everything is all brand new

Jim had come from basically a single parent home -- his mother had left when Jim and Steven were still quite young. William Ellison hadn't really known how to raise the boys by himself, and so he used rewards and punishments, pitting the two boys against one another. As soon as he was old enough, Jim had run away to join the army and had become a member of the Special Forces, trained in covert operations. When his helicopter had crashed in the Peruvian jungle, he had been stranded for eighteen months not knowing if he'd ever go home again.

Blair was also raised by a single parent -- his mother -- one of the last of the original hippies, he had once described her. New Aged, looking for enlightenment in meditation and incense, in living in communes and seeking counseling from gurus of several religions, Naomi had raised her son to be open to new cultures, new ways of living and thinking. Blair was very accepting, outgoing, gregarious -- the absolute opposite of the taciturn detective he had latched onto as his research subject.

When Jim had returned from Peru, he had quit the military and joined the police force in Cascade, Washington. It wasn't long until he had worked his way up to detective, going through the ranks, and serving with Vice before coming to Simon in Major Crimes. On a solitary stakeout, his heightened senses had suddenly come on-line. He'd come to Simon asking for leave, for time off to figure out what was wrong with him. Jim had thought that perhaps he was going crazy.

But Simon couldn't afford to give him the leave during the high profile case of the Switchman, and so had sent him to a doctor instead. At the clinic, Jim had met Blair for the first time. Desperate to get rid of his hyper-senses, to go back to being normal, he looked up the "neo-hippie witchdoctor punk" as he had first described Sandburg.

The young man had a name for what Jim was: a Sentinel. He also said he could help. And so the most unlikely partnership Simon had ever seen came into being.

Two different directions
Too many different ways
One always on the road somewhere
The other one always stays
Too often unhappy
Too often on your own
When you are moving in different directions
True love is all alone

Before applying to the Police Academy, hell, before Ellison, Sandburg had been an anthropologist. Still was in a lot of ways. One would have thought it would be Blair gallivanting off to strange places leaving Jim behind, but in reality the opposite was more the case. Take the time Jim had wanted to go fishing -- alone. Simon chuckled at the memory. He and Sandburg had followed Ellison to the small town of Clayton Falls only to wade up to their eyebrows in a plot to hijack a trainload of old money heading back to the Treasury to be destroyed.

Or consider the time Simon had taken Daryl with him to Peru for a conference. Their helicopter had to make an emergency landing and then took off without them, leaving them stranded. Who had come to their rescue all the way from Cascade? Jim Ellison, of course. From what Jim had told him later, Blair had put off going on an expedition of his own -- one that could have made his career as an anthropologist -- to come with Jim. Come to think about it, whenever Jim ran off anywhere, Blair wasn't far behind. He even conquered his fear of heights to parachute out of the plane into the Peruvian jungle. In the end, Blair had turned down the expedition, choosing to stay with Jim. It's about friendship, the young man had said.

Old stories start to surface
Patterns from long ago
And loving quickly turns to anger
For reasons they don't even know

Simon didn't know quite when it had started, it had been such a gradual transition, but there had come a time when Blair no longer looked upon Jim as his Holy Grail, his research subject, and had started thinking of the detective as a friend. When Jim had received the Cop of the Year award, Blair had been in on the planning of the surprise. When Steven had shown up, it was Blair who took an active role mending the fence between the brothers. The same when Jim and his dad clashed again recently. Blair had discovered that Jim's senses had been a part of him since his childhood, but repressed by a father who didn't want a freak for a son. Blair had intervened there, too, until William and Jim had reached a fragile truce.

But all the trust that had been building between them came crashing down that night in December last year. The night when, thanks to all the city workers striking, the police station had become a shelter for the homeless and disenfranchised. That night, Jim had snuck a peek at Blair's thesis, and didn't like what he saw.

The strongest heart can be broken
With one insensitive word
The deepest feelings remain unspoken
No one is seen and nothing heard

Jim's anger had come like a freak storm out of nowhere to Blair, who, blindsided by his friend's reaction, lashed out in return. Jim really hadn't had any right to read that paper, Simon mused. Blair had asked him not to; had told Jim that reading the opening chapter could bias his entire thesis. But curiosity had gotten the better of the detective and Jim had felt betrayed by the stark black and white images the words had evoked. Blair was ready to cash it all in right there, his thesis and his doctorate be damned. If only they'd said then the words etched in their hearts. If only they'd confessed to each other their deepest feelings right then and there. But they hadn't, and so they began the slide down the slippery slope that would lead to the ultimate act of love.

Two different directions
Too many different ways
One always wants to work things out
The other one wants to play
Too ready for changes
Too much that just can't wait
When you are moving in different directions
True love can turn to hate

Simon could remember with stark clarity the fateful day Naomi had breezed back into Cascade. Blair had just completed his dissertation, but wasn't quite ready yet to let the world see it. For one thing, he had yet to change the references to his subject -- Jim's name was scattered liberally throughout the paper. Thinking to help, Naomi had emailed the paper to a publisher friend of hers, and the word was out. Of course, despite this all being Naomi's fault, Jim had blamed Blair. Blair was the one who had written the paper; Blair was the one who had left Jim's name in the draft; Blair was the one who had neglected to password the document so that Naomi could access it.

And the damage was done.

The media and press were after Jim, swarming around him like flies, trying to get the scoop on "The Sentinel" of Cascade. Even perps went out of their way to be arrested by the famous Sentinel. Jim had had enough, and wiped his hands of Blair, turning a cold shoulder and not listening when the anthropologist pleaded that he'd make it better somehow, that he was sorry.

Jim didn't want to hear it. But he did.

Simon sighed. Blair blatantly wore his heart on his sleeve, even though his partner was blind to it all, and the press conference was proof. If anything screamed "I love you," Blair's sacrifice did it in spades.

Closing his eyes, Simon recalled the look on Jim's face when he saw Blair on television standing behind the podium at Rainier University, renouncing his paper -- his life's work -- as a fraud. Branding himself a liar in order to restore Jim's anonymity.

If opposites attract each other
What's the reason for
One being like an open window
One just like a closing door

How often had Blair shown Jim just how much he was loved? How often had the younger man gone out of his way, sacrificing his own wants and desires in order to make Jim happy? Blair was like a window, letting the light in; Jim was like a door, shutting it all out, blind to what was right in front of him. When Blair had renounced his thesis, that door had cracked a bit. Slowly, Jim began to realize what Blair was offering.

It wasn't long after Blair had accepted the detective's badge and begun classes at the Academy that Jim had come to Simon and told him the news. He and Sandburg had agreed to be partners in more than just police work. Beyond that, Simon didn't really want to know more. After all, couples weren't allowed to work together. Adopting a "don't ask, don't tell" attitude, Simon had suggested that Jim keep the details of the relationship between himself and Sandburg. Jim had readily agreed.

Two different directions
Too many different ways
One likes to see the morning sunrise
The other one sleeps in late
Too many tomorrows
Too many times too late
When you are moving in different directions
True love may have to wait
If you are committed to different directions
True love will have to wait

Simon watched as the two men straightened, obviously done with whatever they had been studying for so long. Jim slapped Blair's back and then wrapped an arm across the broad shoulders. Blair reciprocated with an arm around Jim's waist. Smiling and laughing, the two men exited the bullpen on their way home for the night.

Pulling the blinds to his office closed, Simon grinned. Two such different men, coming from two such diverse backgrounds; it shouldn't work. If it had been any other two people, Simon would have placed bets that it wouldn't work out. But these two...?

Simon slipped into his coat and grabbed his umbrella, a smug smile on his face as he closed and locked the office door. These two... they had a chance.