This is Tangent A, continuing from Tangent A Part Six. It goes from part 138 to

138 = MisPriss =

"Terry, whoa, man, what interest? What do you mean?" Blair said, holding his hands up to show Terry he meant no harm.

Terry reached out and grabbed Blair's shirt. He began slamming Blair against the car as hard as he could. Blair hit his head hard and thought he was surely going to die.

Terry threw him to the ground and began yelling at him. "You little whore!! You thought you could walk out on me and get by with it, didn't you? You're not leaving me, you bitch!!"

Blair curled into a fetal position and only dimly heard Terry's screaming. He whimpered as Terry drew his foot up to stomp on him. He whispered James' name and passed out.

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139 = Sorka =

Terri kicked the fallen man a few more times, his forth kick was halted by the unexpected chip and whirl of a cops siren directly behind him. He turned abruptly, to see a maroon sedan pull up. A very tall black man emerged from the vehical gun drawn.

"Freeze! Police!" he yelled.

"Hey man, I wasn't doing nothin', he slipped." Terri raised his hands.

"Right, and he just slipped into your shoe a couple of times too, right?"

Terri turned and ran, the cop yelled at him to stop. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. When he finally looked back for sign of pursuit he was several blocks away.

"Hang on, son. I'm Captain Banks." the cop said. "There's an ambulance on the way." He carefully checked the unconscious man for injuries. A moan issued forth as he touched the ribs.

"I'm sorry, just lie still." Banks soothed.

"sorry jim..." Blair sighed.

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140 = Shinzia =

Simon crouched down next to the man lying curled at his feet. "Stay with me, son. Is there someone we can contact for you?"

Simon heard a soft whisper of sound. "Who? I didn't hear you. Come on son, who should I call?"

"Jim." The word fell from lips curled into a wistful smile as Blair's eyelids fluttered and he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Jim?" Simon muttered to himself. "Hell, that's no help." Simon carefully searched the man's pockets while he monitored his breathing and pulse rate. Both were ragged. "Hey, Rafe, what's the ETA on the ambulance?"

"About 2 minutes, Captain."

As Simon turned back toward the injured man he noticed a business card lying on the ground next to Blair's hip.

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141 = Bast =

He picked it up and looked at it. At that moment, the EMTs arrived and began work on the young man laying there on the ground. They got him loaded into the ambulance and spoke with Rafe. Then they were gone. He gestured for Rafe to come over to him.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Where are they taking him?"

"Cascade General."

Simon looked at the card again and picked up his cell phone. He dialed the number. He *always* hated doing this.

The other phone rang once, twice, then was answered. "Ellison."

"Mr. James Ellison?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Captain Simon Banks with the Cascade Police Department."

"How can I help you, Captain?"

"We had an young man here who was injured. He is enroute to Cascade General. He was asking for a "Jim" and had this number in his possession."

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142 = Francesca Coppla =

James Ellison's secretary knocked nervously on his office door. Her face was convulsed with anxiety--she had heard a growl, and a loud crash, and the sound of breaking glass. "Mr. Ellison," she said softly, then cleared her throat. "Mr. Ellison!" she repeated, knocking with more force, "are you all right in there?"

"Go. Away."

That was all the woman needed to hear. She skittered away from the large wooden double doors enclosing Ellison's office, headed for the relative safety of the ladies room.

Inside the office door, Jim Ellison braced himself over his desk with strong arms. He was sweating, and breathing hard, but his desk was clear. The papers fluttered across the room, his gold-plated desk clock having sailed a good fifteen feet to have landed, face cracked, at the base of a wall. The large carved marble paperweight--an objet d'art, a gift from a woman, the perfect symbol of an affair itself as cold and hard as marble--had been hurled with great force through the center of the glass coffeetable.

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143 = Paulette =

Someone had hurt Blair. And that person, whoever they were - would pay. James would see to that. *This* he could handle. He just had to get the police out of the way first. A few well-placed phone calls would take care of that.

And then he could really take care of business. This was his chance to show Blair that he needed him, needed James. James certainly didn't want to feel this need all by himself. He spared a brief thought for how that Banks person had gotten his name in the first place, and how thankful he was that this unknown man had just handed him his little whore on a silver platter. And it would be silver, because James didn't think Blair would look quite as natural in gold.

He scuttled his thoughts and picked up the phone. Time to make a difference in the world - or at least the world of a certain young man who gave a mighty wicked blow job that James just couldn't seem to forget. He listened to the phone ring as he remembered that mouth, those eyes, those hands....

"Mayor's office, may I help you?"

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144 = MisPriss =

"This is James Ellison, put me through to the Mayor please." James replied.

After only a moment, the Mayor picked up the phone.

"Well, this is a suprise James." Came the wary voice of the John Marshall, Cascade's Mayor. "I hope your weekend went well."

"I am not interested in making polite small talk, John. You are in a position to help me right now and it would be in your interest to do so," James bit out.

Not giving the man a chance to talk James continued.

"A Captain of yours by the name of Banks came across a man badly beaten this afternoon. I want you to have him lose the paperwork dealing with it."

"I cant do that! I can't tell my police to lose paperwork on crimes, they are supposed to solve them, not hide them!" the Mayor blustered. "Especially Banks. You have no idea what a pit bull that man is."

"You aren't listening to me. You don't have a choice. I know you understand that, better than most." Without waiting for a reply, satisfied that he had made his point, James hung up.

Staring sightlessly at his office wall, James tried to get a handle on his emotions as his thoughts ran at high speed. Without coming to a conscious decision James strode out of his office, through the small waiting room and out past several startled staff. Not having the patience to wait for the lift, he strode over to the stairwell and began his rapid descent.

With little regard to other traffic, James pulled out into the oncoming traffic and headed towards Cascade General Hospital. Throughout the drive, the Captain's words echoing around and around his head.

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145 = Sorka =

At the hospital, he practically sprinted to the desk. The anger he felt toward Blair being hurt, had curled back into fear for the man's condition. The captain had not explained the extent of his injuries, and the worst kinds of images where flashing in his head. "I'm James Ellison, I was called about a friend of mine. Blair Sandburg."

The lady at the desk smiled, "Yes, he's in room 211. They have him under observation."

"Thank you." James said, heading to the elevator. When the doors opened on the second floor, he could swear he could smell Blair's scent in the air. He turned without pausing toward it, and found his room with a police officer and another man standing before the door.

The tall black man gave him an appraising look. "Mr. Ellison?"

"Yes, can I go in to see Blair?" James said, trying to get passed them.

"I'm Captain Banks. He's sleeping at the moment," Simon stated coldly. "So we are going to have a little talk about a call I got from the Mayor's office."

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To be continued in Part Eight