The Jamie Series #4

Learning.

by Gillan

Blair Sandburg tucked his tongue into the corner of his mouth as he flipped through the big dusty reference book on his desk. A frown of concentration creased his forehead and he was so totally absorbed in his work that it took three loud knocks on his door before he looked up.

"Blair?" Penny Lang peeked around the office door. "Busy?"

The grad student blinked a few times, his mind still a thousand miles away. "Hmm? Oh, Penny." His frown cleared and he sat back in his chair. "Sorry about that," he laughed. "I was absorbed."

"Ah, the Sandburg zone-out, I remember it well," Penny teased.

Blair was dumbfounded for a moment at the familiar term and then he grinned, relaxing. It was not the first time he had heard it used, but it still surprised him that a term had been used by a man like Burton one hundred years ago and yet could become popular in the nineties. Still, Burton had been a man ahead of his time, in some things at least.

"Yeah, well. It's nice to get a bit of peace and quiet for a change," Blair marked his place in the book and carefully closed it. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you were coming to that lecture this afternoon? Moretsky is only in town for a few days, and the topic sounds fascinating."

"Yeah it does." Blair sighed regretfully. "But I can't. I have to pick up Jamie at four."

"You could put it off for a few hours," Penny suggested. "The child care center is open til six, isn't it?"

"Eight actually," Blair said. "But I can't. He spends all day there anyway, that's enough time."

"But it's not fair," Penny huffed, pulling up a chair and making herself comfortable. "Where's Jim while you are doing all the running around?"

"Jim can never be sure exactly what time he's going to finish," Blair explained patiently. This was not the first time his friends had been onto him about this. He knew it meant they cared, but it could also get annoying explaining over and over again. "Besides, it's no chore, you know. "I like to spend time with Jamie, I miss him while I am working." Penny frowned, surveying him carefully as if looking for something different about him. Blair waited patiently because this was not new either. For a moment he wondered just what people were looking for. Did they think he had grown breasts along with his maternal instincts? And why did no-one consider his instincts paternal anyway? What is wrong in a society where women are expected to do all the nurturing and men who try are considered freaks? That gave him an idea for a paper on matriarchal societies and their ties to modern society and he quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a few notes on it.

"Blair," Penny said impatiently and Blair looked up with a start.

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly.

She surveyed him with fond exasperation. "Just when I think you have changed you go and do something to prove you are still the brainiac workaholic I dated all those years ago."

Blair shifted a bit uncomfortably. He liked to stay friends with his ex-girlfriends, but in Penny's case it was not always easy. She tended to take a proprietary interest in him, taking it upon herself to screen every new relationship and rate it by her own system. Blair still regularly got updates on all the reasons she didn't think his relationship with Jim would work out.

"Yeah, well," he said awkwardly, not sure what his response to being called a brainiac workaholic should be. It beat all the snide names he was hearing whispered behind his back at the station, but not by much.

"Don't worry about it," Penny sighed. "You know I'm your friend, don't you, Blair?"

"Yes," he said warily.

"Good. Now, I don't want to be nasty..."

It was Blair's turn to sigh. When Penny said this it was a sure sign she was going to be nasty.

"But when I see Jim taking advantage of you, letting you carry all the burdens of raising a child-"

Blair cut her off. "Now hold on there, Penny. Jim is not taking advantage of me, and my son is not a burden, no how, no way."

"You know what I mean," Penny snapped impatiently.

"I know what you mean," Blair moderated his tone. "And any sacrifices we make are made together, I assure you. Okay?"

Clearly dismissed, Penny stood up. "Well, Blair, I hope you are right, I really do."

Which meant she really didn't, Blair thought as she flounced from the room. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. If only people could see that most of the pressures put on the three of them were coming from outside. When Penny had found out he was in a relationship with Jim she had sat him down and very patiently explained that gay unions didn't last. Blair had countered with the news that many straight relationships buckled under the pressures of every day life, and that in their case they had all those pressure plus a whole other bunch besides. It had fallen on deaf ears.

Blair considered some of the pressures they had faced in the weeks since they had adopted Jamie. First of all there had been their own feelings to deal with, in Blair's case an overwhelming love for a child hitting him out of the blue. In Jim's case the slow journey towards that same love that had so taken him by surprise. Then there had been the routine of every day life to deal with, juggling two full time jobs with a child. Those were the internal pressures, and left alone Blair considered that they had dealt with them quite well, although it had not been without sacrifice.

The external pressures had been a little harder to deal with. Facing the renewal of the kind of homophobia they had encountered the year before when they had been outed was perhaps the worst. That wasn't an issue that could be resolved by personal sacrifice or discussion, that was something alien and unreasoning threatening them. Blair considered how they had dealt with it so far. Jim definitely had the best score, he had stood up for himself against his boss and friend when Simon had demonstrated his own homophobia, and he had done it without losing any ground at all. He had even gained a victory, bringing the problem to Simon's attention and out into the open where the Captain could deal with it.

The anthropologist sighed. He knew he had not faced his pressures quite so well. Here at the U most of his friends had been supportive, although they all seemed a little bewildered by the whole thing. But at the station Blair was finding himself dealing with a kind of violent prejudice he couldn't begin to understand. The initial incident had been the first time he had accompanied Jim to the station since they adopted Jamie. While Jim had slipped off somewhere and Blair was chatting happily with Carole from Traffic a detective from Vice, someone he hardly knew, had walked up and deliberately groped at his crotch.

Shocked and startled Blair had done no more than yelp and jump back while his friend made a horrified protest. "Just checking to see if you still had your balls," the detective had laughed crudely, and then wandered off, sharing a laugh with his partner. Carole had been disgusted and she had tried to insist Blair report the incident, but Blair had been unwilling to be the cause of any trouble in this closed society. Later Jim had pressured him to reveal who had been responsible for the incident by the elevator, but Blair had had no intention of muddying the water that way. If his lover found out that the encounter had gotten physical nothing Blair could do would stop Jim beating the crap out of the guy and getting himself in trouble.

Finally Blair faced his own lingering guilt over the one outside pressure that had caused the worst argument they had ever had. He had all but ordered Jim to stop taking risks at work. He had certainly stood in the way of Jim's promotion prospects. Jim had agreed, stating that he had never had any intentions of climbing the ladder and leaving them behind, but Blair couldn't help but feel bad about it. After all, he had married a cop, and didn't that mean taking everything that goes along with it?

Sighing again the anthropologist glanced at his watch. Well, that was it, his train of thought was broken now, he might as well move on. As usual Jamie was bouncing up and down with joy when Blair picked him up and the young man took a moment to cuddle the squirming body, enjoying the husky giggles as he blew a little raspberry into the sweet skinned neck.

"Has he had a good day?" Blair asked, signing him out and collecting the baby's little backpack filled with spare diapers and cloths.

"He certainly has, and he's made you and Jim a gift." Mary-Ann unclipped a piece of paper from a drying frame and bought it over. It bore some very clear hand prints in blue paint as well as some arcs of yellow and red, obviously also applied with little chubby hands. Throat tight, Blair took the dry picture and held it in one hand, out of Jamie's agile reach.

Years ago he had found a case in his mom's closet when they had been shutting up the house they had lived in while he went to school in Cascade. He was sixteen and heading off to college and a string of shared digs with friends, and she was setting back off on her travels. The case had amazed and astounded him with the collection of hand made cards and envelopes of baby curls it contained. Blair carefully rolled the colorful picture up. This would be the first edition to his own 'memory box', as his mom had called it.

"He loves finger painting," Mary-Ann smiled.

"Well, I'm glad he can do it here then," Blair smiled mistily. "Because it's not an activity Jim would allow in the loft, that's for sure." On the drive home Jamie sang along to the radio in his babble of baby talk, every now and then a recognisable word slipping through. Blair slanted him a curious glance from time to time. No Spanish words ever surfaced, no matter how often Jim talked to him fluently in that language. It sometimes seemed as if that time before they found him in the jungle had never happened. Blair felt a pang of sadness for the young mother whose cross and chain resided in the safety deposit box Jim kept their wills and other important documents in. Still, wherever she was she hopefully knew that her son was safe and well. And very much loved.

For a change there was time to cook and Blair decided on a simple casserole. Easy to make but very hearty and filling, and one of Jim's favorites. Jamie amused himself in his playpen while Blair cooked. The wooden pen sat between the door to the nursery and the kitchen, well out of the way of possible spills but close enough so they could interact while Blair cooked. Once the casserole was under way Jamie began to smack his lips and with a glance at his watch Blair decided to feed him. Another benefit of the casserole was that it could be kept warm for some time if Jim was late. Blair pulled a jar from the fridge.

"Ah, you know your favorite dinner, don't you?" he laughed as Jamie began to bounce in his high chair. "Beef and Vegies. Grandma Naomi is going to try to turn you into a little vegetarian, but that's not going to happen is it, piglet? You'll be a carnivore like your dads."

Jamie opened his mouth wide for the first spoonful, but even as Blair was dipping the spoon into the glass jar for another the baby was making a disgusted face and spitting the mouthful out.

"No good?" Blair said, surprised. He took a little taste himself. Unlike Jim he didn't generally enjoy the flavor of baby food, although this particular one was okay. "It's fine," he said. "Come on, one spoonful." But Jamie kept his mouth firmly closed as the spoon approached, even turning his head away when Blair persisted. "What is wrong with you tonight? I thought you were hungry?"

Jamie kicked against the chair and strained backwards away from the spoon. The front door opened as Blair dropped the jar onto the table in disgust. "Fine, don't eat," he said. "But babies who don't eat their dinner don't get ice-cream for dessert."

"Having problems, Chief?" Jim dropped a kiss on Jamie's head and bent over and pecked at Blair's lips.

"Hmm." Blair clung to the kiss for a moment and Jim finally straightened, smiling.

"Whew, save that thought." He surveyed Jamie's unhappy little face and the barely touched jar of baby food. "I don't believe it, the piglet not hungry?"

"No. Maybe his teeth hurt or something?" Blair suggested, trying to insert a gentle finger into Jamie's mouth but still being met with the stubbornly closed lips.

"Let me try," Jim settled down at the table and lifted the jar. "This is his favorite too." He stopped suddenly, face intent. "Wait a minute." Bringing the jar to his nose he sniffed. "This doesn't smell right." Blair watched as Jim dipped a finger into the jar and tasted it, a moment later spitting it out as Jamie had done minutes before. "Whoa, that is not right," he said, examining the jar again.

"I thought it tasted fine," Blair said.

"Well, the use-by date is fine, not out of date for another month."

"Maybe they changed the recipe?" Blair suggested.

"No, this tastes like it's got some sort of... taint to it." Jim snapped the lid back on. "I want to save this and run it through the lab tomorrow," he said, putting it in the fridge. The phone rang and Jim grabbed it. "Ellison. Mary-Ann?" Blair looked up, watching Jim's face. "Okay, we'll look. Thanks for calling. No, I don't think we buy that brand," he finished.

"What?" Blair asked as Jim hurried into the main area and switched on the TV, flicking it to the news channel.

"And details on that product recall again, Derby Baby Foods, batch numbers 10010 through to 10510. Please return to place of purchase for a full refund, as several jars have been found to contain dangerous bacteria."

Wordlessly Blair watched as Jim went back to the refrigerator and picked up the jar, looking at it for a moment and then turning the label to face Blair. On the lid was stamped: product no. 100210.

"Oh my god," Blair whispered.

"Did he eat any?"

"Um," Blair covered his mouth with his hands, remembering trying to shovel the food into the baby's mouth.

"Blair, did he eat any at all?"

"No, I don't think so. He spat it out like you did. Like you did," Blair repeated.

"But he had it in his mouth," Jim said grimly, grabbing a coat and handing it to Blair. He then grabbed Jamie's little duffle coat off a hook and lifted the baby to sit on the table, threading his arms carefully into the sleeves.

"We going to take him to the emergency room?" Blair asked, still feeling as if he were in a daze. If Jamie had not spat the food out he would have been eating poison.

"We might be able to catch Doctor Stewart at her office," Jim said. "We'll phone her on the way." They drove to the pediatrician, Blair with his hand resting on Jamie's little leg. The baby looked fine although he chewed enthusiastically on Ten-Cent Bear's ear as if he was still hungry.

"How did he know, Jim?" Blair asked suddenly. "How could he taste what I couldn't?"

"I don't know," Jim said, not taking his gaze from the road. Blair looked at him searchingly.

"Don't you?" he asked. "Then why did you lie to Mary-Ann on the phone and tell her we don't use that brand?"

They pulled into the medical center and Jim sat for a moment with his hands on the steering wheel. He was staring ahead, jaw set grimly. Finally he turned to Blair.

"Later, okay, Blair?"

Blair contented himself with a nod.

000

Doctor Stewart pulled down Jamie's vest and shirt with a final pat to a round tummy. "He checks out just fine," she said reassuringly to Jim and Blair.

"Oh, thank god." Blair squeezed Jim's hand tightly, feeling the returning pressure of the bigger man's fingers as he squeezed back.

"You don't think he swallowed any?" Jim probed.

"Hard to tell, but from what you tell me it would have been a tiny amount. Watch out for loose bowel motions and any sign of fever. If you're the least bit unsure call me at home."

"Thank you very much, Doctor Stewart," Blair said fervently, shaking her hand.

"I will keep the jar of food if you don't mind, and send it off to the Health Department for testing. Thank goodness your friend called to tell you about the product recall before you could feed him," she continued. Blair avoided Jim's eyes as he fussed with Jamie's duffle coat.

"Yeah, thank goodness." Blair took Jamie out to the car while Jim handled the insurance details at the reception, buckling the baby in with a kiss on his head. "Don't worry, piglet, you can have some casserole with us, if it's not burned to a crisp when we get home." The baby however seemed to have gone past hunger and was nodding sleepily. By the time Jim arrived at the truck he was dozing.

"Okay?" Jim asked, getting into the truck.

"I will be when I find out what you've been keeping from me," Blair said tightly, buckling himself in. Jim glanced at him somberly.

"When we get home, Chief." The drive was silent and Jim carried Jamie straight into his nursery and laid him in his cot.

"He hasn't eaten or bathed. His whole schedule will be off," Blair said, watching from the doorway as Jim turned on the nursery monitor. Blair felt his throat tighten at the gesture, knowing Jim had bought it for him. After all, what use did a Sentinel have for a monitor?

"He was almost poisoned tonight, Blair. I think his schedule might have been thrown off a tad by that, don't you?"

All at once Blair was assaulted by an image of himself pressing the spoon to a pair of tiny lips, pressed tightly closed against it. With a gag he felt the gorge rise in his throat and he stumbled to the bathroom and fell to his knees in front of the toilet. After a few moments of choked vomiting he felt a cool, wet towel being pressed to his forehead.

"God, I'm sorry, Blair," Jim was saying. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No." Blair sat back on his heels and rubbed at his mouth with the towel. "No you shouldn't have, but I should have expected it. The old 'attack when cornered' instincts haven't died down any, have they, Jim? What I want to know is what has you backed in the corner?"

Jim closed his eyes and then opened them again, slowly nodding. "You're right. Wash your mouth out, I'll get you a mineral water." After a few minutes vigorously brushing his teeth Blair returned to the main area and collapsed on the couch, gratefully accepting the seltzer Jim handed him.

"Okay?" Jim held a hand to his head and Blair ducked it automatically, then sighed when he saw the hurt look on his lover's face.

"You know I hate it when you fuss," he explained a little apologetically. "I did eat a couple of spoonfuls of that stuff, I guess my stomach's reacting."

"Maybe we should take you to the doctor?" Jim sat next to him, concern written on his face.

Half turning to face him Blair suppressed a sigh. How could he stay mad at this guy?

"No, it's okay, I've thrown up whatever I ate any way. Let's just see if it settles down."

"I am sorry I was so flip about it. It's a frightening thing, realising that just feeding your baby could have hurt him."

"Yeah, and I'll get past that. But you know what I need to know, Jim. What have you been keeping from me?" Jim sighed and bowed his head, studying his clasped hands for long moments.

"Back in San Leon, in the jungle... I saw my animal spirit."

"The panther?" Blair felt a frisson of shock go through him.

"Yeah. The first time was before I found you, and I told myself it was a dream."

"Well? What happened?"

"It spoke. Told me I'd find you, and much more besides."

"Understatement," Blair said, eyes wide. "What else?"

"The next time I saw him was when we found Jamie. My instincts were screaming at me to get us the hell away from there but something was leading me on. And then I saw the panther through the trees. He led me to Jamie."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Blair demanded, throat tight. "Don't you think I had a right to know?"

"I told you, I thought it was a dream the first time. And then we were so busy just trying to survive..." Jim trailed away, looking quickly up into Blair's eyes and then away.

"Jim, we've been home three weeks. I think you might have slipped it into the conversation since then, don't you?" Blair knew he was being sarcastic but he couldn't help it. Hurt was filling him at the thought that Jim had experienced something so profound concerning all their lives and not shared it with him. Jim set his jaw, but stayed silent. "What else aren't you telling me?" Blair asked, Jim's silence making him suspicious.

"The animal spirit said that nothing happens without a reason," Jim whispered. "I kept hearing that in my head. We were surrounded by so much death and destruction, Blair, but we were able to salvage one shining life from all that. Jamie. Just the thought that the only reason it all happened was because... because he's like me... it seems to cheapen that."

"You think he's a Sentinel," Blair realised, the conversation having come full circle. For a few minutes he had been so shocked by Jim's revelations that he had lost the thread. "Like you."

"Hell, I don't know. I had some suspicions, but I buried them. I don't want to believe all that shit went down and it was all, I don't know, planned! Like all those lives were wasted? Your friend? Jamie's family?"

Driven by the anger and pain in Jim's voice Blair felt his own anger drop away and he wrapped an arm around his lover's shoulder, gratefully feeling Jim curl closer into him. "Man, what have you been thinking?" Blair whispered, stunned anew by the depth of this man. He took so much onto himself, carried so many burdens for so many people. He lectured Blair on keeping aloof and checking his emotions at the door, while at the same time becoming deeply involved in the problems and pains of his world. "I love you, Jim," Blair whispered, just because he needed to say it. It seemed like it was something Jim needed to hear, because the big man sighed against his chest.

"I love you, Blair."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Jim, did you ever sense any malevolence in the panther?"

"What?" Jim frowned, straightening a little so that he could look into Blair's eyes and stay in his arms.

"No, of course not."

"No. He has guided you and helped you when you've needed it. He led us to Jamie."

"But he said nothing happens without a reason. What if the reason those people died was so that we could come together?"

"But what if those people were going to die any way, Jim? And the thing that was meant to be was that we three could come together? The animal spirit didn't start the war, he didn't kill them. He didn't pull the trigger and shoot Andy. But he did what he could, and maybe the best that he could do was lead us to Jamie. If he hadn't, do you think Jamie would be alive now?"

"No," Jim shook his head slowly.

"Saying nothing happens without a reason is pretty scary, Jim, if like most mortals we never know what the reason is." Blair gently stroked Jim's hair back from his face. "You should be used to that by now." Jim nodded, still chewing it all over. Blair continued. "You know, there is this old Buddhist saying. It goes: 'Sometimes, in order to make the universe work, Budda has to resort to outrageous coincidences.' You and I were in the jungle when this baby needed help and the panther led us to him."

"The outrageous coincidence part being the fact that he is a Sentinel?" Jim said incredulously.

"Well, we don't know that he is a Sentinel yet," Blair said reasonably. "But yeah, maybe he is. Is it any more coincidental than the way you and I found each other? In all the world there is a embryo Sentinel and a would-be Guide, and we both happened to live in the same city? Please, if you saw it on TV you would laugh!"

"Fact is stranger than fiction," Jim murmured.

"And you always resort to sayings when you are processing," Blair pointed out.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "You know I really didn't mean to keep anything from you. I just didn't want to think about it all."

"Well, now we don't have much choice. We have a baby in there who may possibly have one hyperactive sense. What are we going to do about that?"

"I think it might be more than taste," Jim admitted. "The first night we were home I came and got him from the quilt, to carry him to our bed. I sat for a while with him, and we were just looking at each other, you know that mood he gets in when it's dark and quiet."

"Yeah," Blair smiled a little, thinking about that heart-breakingly somber little midnight face.

"Well we were looking at each other, just studying each others faces and he dropped off to sleep. It was only when I took him back to bed that I realised it was really dark. It was raining outside and the street lamps weren't letting in much light. I was automatically adjusting, and I think now he was too."

"Oh," Blair said, feeling a jolt of excitement. "You know what? Mary-Anne keeps telling me how Jamie gets all excited like five minutes before I arrive! No matter what time it is! She thinks it's cute!"

"But you think he might be hearing you coming?" Jim asked. "This is all circumstantial."

"We're not building a case here, Jim," Blair said dryly. "We're feeling our way. If Jamie is a Sentinel as a baby, maybe you were too. Maybe just the strains of living and learning from non-Sentinels is enough to suppress those abilities. You know what this could mean? We could train him to live with them from childhood! Using his senses could become second nature to him!"

"Whoa, whoa, Chief, hold up! This is our son you are talking about, not a lab experiment!"

"I know," Blair waved a hand at Jim dismissively, his mind abuzz with excitement. To be able to see a Sentinel as a child! Untainted by life and experience, undiluted by time and knowledge! The possibilities were enormous.

"Do you?" Jim said sharply. "I don't think you do. I know that gleam in your eye of old, Chief, and I am telling you now, I am not going to let you use Jamie as a lab rat."

Blair sobered at the rage in Jim's voice. It was a tone he seldom heard directed against himself. "Jim?" he said uncertainly. "Man, this is me. You know I would cut off my arm before I would hurt Jamie."

Jim did not soften. "Well, maybe we have different ideas of what would hurt him, Chief. He is going to know enough trauma and difficulty growing up. Facing the loss of his real family, not knowing his true identity, suffering the stigma of being raised by gay parents. Don't you think that's enough without becoming a science project?" Blair absorbed Jim's words, feeling them cut straight to the bone.

"I wasn't thinking of him that way," he muttered, not looking at Jim.

"Maybe just for a minute?" Jim did soften now, sitting back down next to Blair. With shame Blair recognized the truth in that and nodded.

"Maybe I got carried away for a minute. But we are going to have to know a lot about this to cope with it, Jim," he pointed out.

"We'll learn as we go," Jim returned. "Just as we're learning with every other thing facing new parents. But there will be no notebooks or video tapes or tests. Okay?"

Taking a deep breath Blair felt the last of his lust for knowledge leave him. "Okay. I just get a little carried away now and then," he repeated softly. "I would have calmed down."

"I know, Blair," Jim admitted. "I got a little too steamed myself. To tell you the truth, I would make it all go away if I could. Jamie's extra senses. This is so hard for me, you of all people know how hard this is sometimes. It breaks my heart to think of what he might go through."

"Jim, you'd lived a lifetime before your abilities surfaced. You've had to relearn everything. If Jamie is a Sentinel he already has more control than you do! Think about it!" Blair stood and started to pace, entering lecture mode automatically. "Noises must be loud to him, but he compensates, you had to learn that. Food must taste incredibly strong, but he has only ever known it that way, so again, he has compensated. And you already said he adjusted his vision to the environment that night you came and got him from in here. How long did it take you to learn that ability?"

"Chief," Jim said in a warning tone.

Blair waved a hand again. "It's okay, I'm not getting carried away."

"Yeah, you are," Jim disagreed. "We don't even know if any of this is true."

"Maybe not," Blair said. "But we know one thing. A hyperactive sense of taste saved Jamie from being very sick tonight. It might have even saved his life. How could we wish that away, Jim? It is a genetic advantage, not a handicap. Our job will be to teach him how to use it."

"Come here," Jim said wearily, reaching out and hauling Blair down next to him. "It wears me out when you pace."

"Sorry." Blair curled up next to his lover. "We have a bigger job than we could have dreamed," he murmured.

"That's a comforting thought," Jim said dryly. "I was never entirely convinced we could pull it off for your average run of the mill baby."

"But we can do this," Blair continued confidently. "Because we love him. I can help guide him and you can be an example to him, and we can both love him."

"That's the easy part."

"It always was."

000

They ended up talking into the night and eating sandwiches at midnight. The casserole was declared uneatable and scraped down the garbage disposal. Early the next morning the two bleary eyed men were awoken by Jamie's cries from downstairs.

"I told you," Blair croaked into his pillow. "His whole schedule is off. He must be starving, poor mite."

"Feed him then," Jim groaned, pulling his own pillow over his head.

"Yes, boss," Blair grumbled sleepily, tumbling out of bed and down the stairs. "So much for sharing the chores around here. 'I'm here for you, Chief' takes on a whole new meaning at six in the A.M."

Jamie perked up on spotting Blair. "Num num," he said miserably, little lips quivering, eyes red.

"Oh, poor little piglet," Blair soothed, picking him up and carrying him the change table. He automatically changed his diaper while he chatted to him. "You need some num nums, don't you? You also need a bath but I think food is the priority now."

"Baff," Jamie said, beginning to smile.

"Yeah, but I think we'll make that daddy's job, hmm? Lazy daddy who's still in bed."

"I can hear you," Jim called out.

"Shock, horror," Blair mimed, depositing Jamie in his high chair. "How about some scrambled eggs? Hmm?"

"Negs," Jamie pounded on his little tray.

"Yeah, eggs sound good." Jim wandered over to the bench and sat down, he was wearing a robe and his hair was ruffled.

"I'll cook for us later," Blair informed him, beating the eggs vigorously.

"I always come last around here," Jim moaned theatrically, pulling faces for Jamie's benefit.

"Oh, yeah. Poor put-upon daddy." Blair sighed and broke some more eggs into the bowl. "Make toast," he ordered. Jim obediently shuffled over and opened the bread bin. Soon they were all sitting down to scrambled eggs on toast. Jamie was starved and downed two slices of toast with his spoonfuls of eggs, although a lot of the last slice did end up mashed into the much abused high chair table.

"I think I'll take a shower," Jim stood and scratched. "Oh, man, my shoulder is aching again."

"Why don't you put some of that herbal stuff in and soak in the tub?" Blair suggested, beginning the daunting task of wiping the high chair down. Jamie was back in his play pen, attempting to stack coloured blocks and laughing as they tumbled.

"Yeah, I might. Thanks for breakfast," Jim said, giving Blair his good morning hug.

"Mm, I wondered when you were going to get around to that," Blair sighed appreciatively.

"Any chance Jamie could be ready for a nap again?" Jim said hopefully.

Blair chuckled as he felt the evidence of Jim's morning desire against his own. "No chance whatsoever," he informed him, a little regretfully. "But the minute he does doze off..."

"I'll keep my schedule free," Jim kissed willing lips and then stepped back. After tidying up Blair took Jamie into the main area and sat with him in the sunshine on the quilt. They played peekaboo games for a while and then Blair turned on the TV. He had come around to Jim's thinking that a little supervised TV wouldn't hurt. Besides, although he would never admit it to Jim, he really was enjoying some of the cartoons.

TV was enough of a novelty in the loft that Jamie was fascinated by it, raising his hands and reaching for the bright images, occasionally muttering along with the jingles on the commercials. Blair watched his absorption, pondering anew on the revelations of the night before. What did Jamie see when he looked at that screen? Was he seeing the same images as everyone else? Or was he seeing deeper into the picture, perceiving it pixel by pixel?

"Spoon!" Jamie yelled, turning a shining face to Blair and sharing a wide grin. Blair felt his heart twist in his chest. It didn't matter what he saw or didn't see. It didn't matter whether he was or wasn't a Sentinel. All that mattered this bright Saturday morning was that Jamie was sitting smiling on his quilt and not laying sick in a hospital bed. As Jim said, they would work the rest out as they went.

"Where's Jamie?" Blair asked, playing their game again. Jamie laughed and pointed to himself. "That's right, good boy! Where's Blair?" "Beh!" Jamie yelled, getting into the game. "Clever boy! Where's Ten-Cent Bear?" "Ten Sen!" Jamie pointed a chubby finger at the bear tumbled on the quilt next to him.

"Where's daddy?" Blair said on impulse, adding a new chapter to the game. "Where's daddy?" Jamie looked around, at a loss. "Where's daddy?"

"Dad-dad!" Jamie suddenly called. Blair felt his heart leap. "Yeah, Jamie! Dad-dad! Let's find Dad-dad!" Blair scooped the baby up and scrambled into the bathroom. Jim was laying back in the bath, eyes closed, a folded washcloth on his forehead.

"Jim!" Jim jerked up, the cloth falling down over his face.

"What? What's wrong?" 

"Jamie said Dad-dad!" Blair thrust the baby forward.

"Say it, Jamie!"

Jamie pointed forward. "Baff!" he said with delight. Jim sat back down, blowing out a breath.

"You scared me to death," he exclaimed.

"Come on, Jamie," Blair coaxed. "Say it. Dad-dad."

"Let it go, Blair," Jim said easily. "Like you said, he'll say it in his own time."

"But he did say it," Disappointed Blair sank down on the toilet seat.

"I don't think it counts if I'm not in the room, Chief," Jim said when Blair explained the game to him.

"Baff! Baff!" Jamie was wriggling and squirming.

"Now see what you've done," Jim shook his head. "Might as well hand him over, we're not going to get any rest til he gets wet."

"Yeah?" Blair said hopefully. If Jim bathed the baby now it would save a lot of time and trouble later. He began stripping the infant before Jim could change his mind. "I can have my shower while you do that." Jim grabbed the naked kicking bundle and sat him down facing him in the bath, keeping a careful grip on his slippery sides.

"Slow down, wiggle-butt," Jim risked letting go with one hand and splashed some water up. Jamie squealed with delighted laughter. "Okay now, sit still and we'll wash you."

"Sit still?" Blair hooted with laughter as he stripped and turned on the shower. "In the bath? Good luck." Taking the opportunity to wash his hair the younger man watched through the glass shower door as Jim painstakingly washed the baby from head to foot, literally starting at his toes and working up. As he washed Jim spoke to the attentive baby, naming each part of his body and repeating the name until he was done and moved onto the next part. Sometimes Jamie repeated a reasonable facsimile of the name, sometimes he didn't.

Blair felt a jolt of surprise as Jim rubbed Jamie's round belly and then down to his genitals, saying 'penis' and then repeating it. As he shaved at the sink a little later Blair mused to himself that he shouldn't really feel surprise. Just because his mother had named his penis a 'wonky' didn't mean that everyone resorted to childish nick names. Jim just wasn't the type, despite the plethora of colorful sobriquets he came up with for people time and again. With their child Jim would be straight-forward and open.

Towel around his hips Blair ran a wide toothed comb through his hair and watched as Jim turned the sponge into a sailing ship and floated it around the baby. Jamie slapped his hands down on it and Jim mimed explosions and gurgling noises as it sunk.

"We have found your intellectual level," Blair teased.

"Ha ha, professor," Jim said politely.

"Boat," Jamie said clearly and Jim patiently rung out the sponge and started again.

"I think we are going to turn into prunes soon," Jim said, squeezing out the sponge and tucking it behind him while the baby was distracted. "Want to get him out?"

"Beh!" Jamie said, slapping the water again.

"Where's Blair?" Kneeling by the tub Blair caught Jamie's eyes and began the game.

"Chief," Jim said gruffly.

"Where's Blair?" Jamie pointed at the curly haired man. "Good boy! Where's Jamie?" Jamie grinned toothily and pointed at himself. "Clever boy! Now, where's Dad-dad, Jamie?" Blair held his breath as Jamie turned and looked straight at Jim. He grinned and pointed, swinging his gaze back to Blair for praise. "Yes!" Blair shouted jubilantly. He turned to look at Jim, whose mouth had swung open in surprise. "What a clever boy you are, Jamie!" He swung the baby out of the bath and into a big dry towel. "Yes you are! Isn't he, Dad-dad?"

Jim shook himself a little. "He still didn't say it, Chief," he pointed out, but Blair could see the pleased smile lurking on his lips.

"Yeah, but he knows who you are. Any way, just you wait. One day soon he'll be calling dad this and dad that. Then you'll be wishing he'd shut up."

"Sounds familiar," Jim said dryly, his emotions back under control.

"Ha, ha, detective. Just for that you get to dress him." Blair handed him over and zipped off up the stairs to the walk-in wardrobe. He dressed in a flash and was coming down the stairs buttoning a shirt while Jim was still trying to get Jamie's arms into the sleeves of a romper.

"Simon's here," Jim called out. Blair opened the door just as the captain raised a hand to knock.

"Morning," Simon said. "I was hoping I wasn't going to wake you. You look liked you've been up for a while."

"Joys of having a baby in the house," Blair said. "Come in. Coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks. Jim around?"

"In here, Simon," Jim called, appearing at the door in his robe. Jamie was riding high in his arms, shiny and sweet smelling, his damp hair brushed neatly. "Morning."

"Sorry to disturb you guys so early, but we've got a case, Jim. It's a hairy one." Blair felt his heart sink. They had only been home a few weeks but so far their weekends had remained free. It was too much to hope for that that favorable situation might continue.

"What happened?" Jim deposited Jamie in his play pen and sat down at the table, accepting the cup of coffee Blair placed in front of him.

"Judge Joseph Warner, the man who acquitted Charles Nelson last month. His three year old son has been kidnapped." Blair's eyes met Jim's and simultaneously they glanced over at Jamie who was attempting to haul himself to his feet using the bars of the play pen.

"Ransom demand?"

"Not yet, just a file about three inches long left at the scene. It's full of press clippings, detailing the Nelson case from the day you arrested him."

"Isn't this a Federal case?" Blair interjected.

"No-one's disputing that, Sandburg. But Nelson was our collar, our bust, and the bastard walked. That has made a lot of people very angry."

"Well, Nelson is the kind of man to inspire those kinds of strong feelings," Blair agreed. An outspoken white supremacist, Nelson had been arrested for personally attacking an Asian man in a market the year before. It had been a widely publicized case, but Nelson had walked on a technicality. Judge Warner had had no choice but to set him free, but tempers had been running hot in Cascade ever since.

"The fact that Warner is black headed off a lot of the racist labels that are being slung around," Simon shook his head wearily. "But the son of a bitch who lifted Jason Warner from his bed last night didn't care about that. I'm afraid we've got a zealot here, Jim."

"The scariest kind of lunatic." Jim stood up. "I'll get dressed."

Blair deposited his coffee cup on the bench and with a small grimace of a smile at Simon followed Jim. "Watch Jamie for a second, Simon?" he called over his shoulder. Jim was zipping up his pants.

"Grab me a shirt, will you, Chief?" Blair pulled a knitted shirt out of the closet and draped it over Jim's shoulder as he sat on the end of the bed pulling on his socks and shoes.

"I can call Margaret," Blair said quietly, sitting on the bed next to him. "She said she would love to watch Jamie if we ever need her."

"I want you to stay with Jamie," Jim said.

"And I want to be with you," Blair countered.

"Blair, we don't know what this nut-case is about. Our family might be in danger too. I want you to call the Taggert's, see if it's okay for you and Jamie to spend the day with them."

"So they can baby-sit us both?" Blair said dryly. Jim stood up and pulled on the shirt.

"Don't argue with me over this, Chief," Jim warned.

"Don't attempt to brow-beat me with this, Jim. We'll call Joel and drop Jamie with them on the way."

Jim grabbed Blair's arms and held him when he would have walked away. "I want you to take care of our son," he said firmly.

"We can best take care of our son by catching this twisted creep," Blair said, not backing down an inch. "And we do that by doing what we do best, working together." Blair gazed up into angry blue eyes, knowing Jim so well he could see the exact moment the older man gave in.

"You are a stubborn shit, Blair Sandburg," he growled.

Wisely Blair stayed silent.

000

Joel and Angela were happy to take care of Jamie for the day and Blair handed him into their care and climbed back into the truck.

"Do you really think the kidnapper would hold a grudge against you?" Blair asked once they were back on the road. Simon had gone directly to the station in his own car. "I mean, presumably the judge is being targeted because he let Nelson go, but you arrested him."

"But I am part of the justice system," Jim said grimly. "The justice system that let people down when Nelson walked. Besides, you can't judge a kidnapper by normal standards."

"The irony being that it was all such a high profile story when all it should have been was a simple case of assault. If Nelson hadn't been who he was no-one would have cared less."

"The shop keeper he put in hospital cared. His family."

"Yeah, the victims. In this case Nelson took his fist to his victim, usually he's content to bludgeon them with racist slurs. Jim, I have traveled to a lot of places in the world and encountered so many diverse cultures, and you know what? People are people wherever you go."

"You're preaching to the converted, Chief," Jim swung into the car park under the station.

"He hates gays too, you know," Blair said quietly as they rode up to major Crime in the elevator.

"This isn't about Nelson, Chief," Jim returned. "It's about someone who can steal a child out of his home. I don't care what kind of politics this creep has, I want him off my streets."

"I know."

The station was buzzing, suits easily recognisable as Federal Agents sat at desks usually filled by the officers of Major Crime. For once Blair detected no hostility in Jim's attitude with the Feds, everyone was working together to solve this case without letting personal likes and dislikes enter in to it. It was not an unknown phenomenon of course. Nothing united a community like danger to a child.

Jim spent the most time with the file of press clippings that had just been returned from Forensic. Each was now sealed in it's own plastic evidence bag and tagged with a number.

"I need to touch them," Jim said lowly to Blair, studying the scattered bags on his table.

"Well, as a last resort we may have to do that," Blair said. "But for now see if you can't use your other senses on them. Try analyzing them with your sight."

As usual Jim was ahead of him on this, but it didn't worry Blair. There were times he thought of things before Jim it was true, but he was aware that his main function as Jim's partner was support. Looking at the big confident cop it would be hard for anyone who didn't know him to believe how uncertain he could be about decisions pertaining to his Sentinel abilities.

But the truth was Jim was a born skeptic, and despite what was now years of these enhanced senses being with him, a part of him still didn't trust them. Cold hard reason had been a part of Jim's life for so long, it was difficult at times for him to let that go and rely on his senses. In a way Blair was aware he was acting as a kind of scapegoat to the Sentinel side of Jim. He knew it wasn't deliberate on Jim's part, at least he was pretty sure it wasn't, but there were times when things didn't go right, or when Jim's senses alone weren't enough, when Blair was aware he bore the brunt of the blame. He didn't really mind. He was there for Jim to rely on him, and the times when the big man put aside his ingrained doubt about his abilities and totally gave himself over into Blair's hands made the frustrating times worthwhile. Mostly.

Jim was picking up each bag and scanning it closely, holding it up to the light and concentrating hard. Keeping a weather eye on his partner to make sure he was in no danger of zoning, Blair sat down at the computer and flicked through the scanned images on the screen. They were the reverse sides of the clippings, scraps of stories, advertisements and even grainy black and white newspaper photos. Federal Agents were running programs trying to figure out what papers they were from. Simon came over and perched on the edge of the desk, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Forensic just called up. No useable prints on the clippings. It's a blow, we were hoping for at least a partial." He put his glasses back on. "We have a file on people who have been vocal about Nelson, most specifically about his trial, that's what I want you two to spend the afternoon on. Concentrate on the individuals, the Feds are taking the groups."

"Very good, sir." Jim nodded. He gestured to the clippings in front of him. "There are four here we should be concentrating on." The rest were tucked back into the file Jim and spread the four out, reverse sides up. "The others are from large metropolitan newspapers. The paper quality is better, the print clearer. These four have been printed on poorer quality paper, it has a bit of a shine to it. And see the print, it has a fuzzy look to it, less definition in the individual letters."

Blair and Simon squinted down at the paper. "Looks the same to me," Simon commented, but there was no doubt in his voice. The captain had come to trust Jim's Sentinel senses, sometimes more than the man himself did. "But I will pass the word along."

*** *** *** ***

Six hours later Jim and Blair were back at their desk, foot-sore and exhausted. They had questioned dozens of people who had taken the time and trouble to write and express their displeasure with the verdict in the Nelson case, as well as a whole bunch of people who had written defamatory articles and stories about the inept way the American justice system had handled the whole thing. But so far nothing had gelled.

"Of course for every person that writes or complains there are literally thousands in the background with their mouths shut," Blair said, sitting down wearily.

The Federal Agent in charge of the case stood up, phone in his hand. "Thanks," he said, and dropped the phone, skirting his desk. "We might have something," he called to the room at large. "Four of the press clippings have been identified as coming from a small rural newspaper, The Fulton Voice, circulation 4000."

"Fulton?" Blair said.

"That's a small town up near the border," Jim frowned, thinking hard. "Why does that sound familiar right now?"

"I'll tell you why, Simon said excitedly, disappearing into his office and reappearing with a file. "Allen and Eileen McGraw, Fulton, Washington, wrote a total of six letters to Charles Nelson, all of them threatening. They have been questioned twice over them previous to this incident."

"Have they been checked out?" Blair asked as Feds grabbed phones and began dialing.

The Fed in charge looked up from the report he was quickly scanning. "Their place in Fulton was deserted, I'll get another team to go over it with a fine toothed comb. It'll take me 10 minutes to get a warrant." And with this promise made he grimly grabbed his coat and strode from the room.

Blair's cell phone rang and he reached for his coat pocket. "We should go along with the Feds," Blair said as he opened his phone. The news from his caller bought his mind back from its involvement with the case. After the call he closed the phone carefully and sat down.

"Blair, is everything okay?" Jim said, concerned.

"That was Sarah Bergman," Blair said, feeling cold and sad all of a sudden. At Jim's puzzled frown he elucidated. "Andy's mom." It still took a moment but Blair saw by his face when Jim put it together. Andy Bergman had died in Blair's arms in San Leon, just days before Jim had found the young anthropologist.

"What did she want?"

"Her husband had a heart attack last week. She says he wants to see me." Blair looked up at Jim, feeling torn. How many different directions could a man be pulled in?

"You should go," Jim said easily.

"But you might need me on this," Blair said miserably.

"I do need you, but so do the Bergman's right now."

"I told them I'd keep in touch, but I didn't," Blair felt the familiar guilt rise up inside of him. As long as he lived he would never understand the capricious winds of fate that could strike one man down and leave the man next to him unscathed. Or kill a woman and leave her child alive in her arms.

Jim laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Chief. We all need time to come to terms with our losses. But now they need you, you have to go."

"Yeah," Blair felt a little of his strength returning under Jim's hand. If anyone knew anything about survivor guilt it was Jim. Looking up Blair found himself captured by loving blue eyes.

"Take as much time as you need."

With a smile Blair grabbed his coat and left.

000

Considering the fact that he had had a heart attack just days before Harry Bergman looked fine, only a little pale and tired. He was sitting up in bed, still attached to a drip and a heart monitor. Sarah Bergman was sitting in a comfortable chair when Blair arrived and she rose to meet him.

"Blair, thank you for coming," she said quietly.

"Mrs. Bergman." Blair took her hand and held it for a moment. She was a trim fair haired woman in her forties, lines of strain bracketing her nose and mouth. "Mr. Bergman." Blair took the hand offered to him. It was the one unattached to the drip.

"Don't worry, Blair," Mr. Bergman said, seeing the younger man's concerned glances at the machinery around him. "It was a mild attack, you haven't been called to my death bed."

"Glad to hear it," Blair said sincerely.

"I hope we didn't pull you away from anything important?" Mrs. Bergman said anxiously.

Blair smiled reassuringly. "Not at all."

000

Blair let himself into the darkened loft. He had called Joel and been informed by Angie that Jim had picked Jamie up an hour ago. After the afternoon he had spent talking and crying with the Bergman's, Blair was just as happy not to see anyone else right now. He needed Jim's arms around him, and to feel Jamie's warm little body resting trustingly against him.

A soft glow came from the second level, but there was no sound. Instinct kept him from calling out and with a silent tread the younger man padded up the stairs, not even pausing to take off his coat.

Jim lay back on the big bed, lit by the glow of the bedside lamp. Jamie lay on his chest, head turned to face Blair. The child was sleeping deeply, riding the gentle inhale and exhale of Jim's breathing.

"Jim?" Blair said softly.

Jim's eyes were open. He was staring at the shadowed ceiling, one hand resting on Jamie's back. The other hand cupped the downy head, stroking gently through the brown waves.

"Jim, what is it? Is Jamie okay?"

"I didn't wake him," Jim said quietly. "I just needed to hold him."

His voice cracked a little as he spoke and Blair saw there were tear tracks on his face. Coming closer the young man dropped to his knees by the bed, laying one hand on Jim's shoulder.

"What happened?" His voice was hushed.

"We found McGraw and his wife," Jim said, closing his eyes. A tear pressed out between the lashes and rolled down his cheek. "They were at their brother-in-law's cabin. Took them down without a shot."

Blair waited, anxiously tracking the tears that seeped out between the closed lids. Jim's fingers were stroking the baby's fine hair, gently feathering it, caressing it.

"The uniforms were searching when I smelled the blood, in the trunk of McGraw's car."

Now Blair closed his eyes as he realised were this was heading. "Oh, god," he sighed on a breath.

"It was the child. He... They..."

"Jim, you don't have to say it," Blair said, leaning forward until his forehead rested against Jim's cheek, the salt tears cool on his skin.

"I've dealt with death so many times, Blair. Even the death of a child. But this..." Jim choked to a stop and Blair climbed up onto the bed with him, laying an arm over their sleeping child and curving his body along the side of his love.

"Shh," Blair murmured.

Jim stroked Jamie's hair again. "I just needed to hold him, feel him in my arms."

Blair recalled his own thoughts just minutes ago. "I know. Hold our son, Jim. Remind yourself what you go out there every day for. Hold his precious life in your arms."

Jim nuzzled Blair's brown curls under his chin.

"Two precious lives," he whispered.

000

The next day was a quiet one spent at home. The kidnapping had been the Feds responsibility, and so was tying up the loose ends. Blair sat holding hands with Jim on the couch, watching the news as it reported Jason Warner's tragic fate. The older man was somber and sad. He didn't say much, but he kept physically close all day, and he was almost constantly with Jamie while the baby was awake. Jamie seemed to sense Jim's mood and cuddled a lot.

Jim had revealed that the McGraw's had had no intention of hurting the child but that something went wrong during the kidnapping and he died. Studying Jim's somber face Blair knew that not even the news that the child had been dead before any of them had even heard of the case would help.

He remembered being present at the station when a kidnapped child had been returned to her parents. Applause had broken out and the mood among the officers had been high for days. This sad news would also impact on the lives of the people who worked for the Cascade PD, and would echo throughout the station for a long time. Blair wished that people who found it so easy to blanket condemn cops could be exposed to the kind of personal suffering that went on among them over a sad case like this. People like his mother who judged all cops on her bad experiences with a few 'pigs.'

It was hard to stay dismal with a baby in the house though, and by lunch time Jim was smiling a little as he fed the baby the homemade meal Blair had cooked.

"You know, you are going to have to trust baby food again sometime, Chief," Jim pointed out.

"Give me time, Jim. I know it seems like a hundred years since the baby food scare but it isn't. They are still recalling Derby brand."

"It does seem a long time ago now, doesn't it?"

Jim's eyes were distant for a moment and Blair eyed him worriedly.

"I can't believe I was getting so caught up in whether Jamie was a Sentinel, or why he was spared in the jungle."

"Yeah, this kind puts things in perspective, doesn't it?" Blair said sadly.

Jim scooped up some more vegies to spoon into Jamie's eager little mouth, sinking back into deep thought as he stirred the mushed up goop. Jamie wiggled impatiently when the food wasn't instantly forthcoming.

"But you were right, Chief, we need to teach him how to use them as he grows up. He's different, denying that won't make it go away."

"Num num," Jamie demanded, banging his fist on the table.

"But you were right too," Blair admitted. "How we approach that teaching is going to be very important. I don't ever want him to feel like a lab rat."

Jim stirred the food again, still a million miles away. "I wonder if he can keep his abilities as he grows older? If they could become second nature instead of something that sometimes seems alien to him?"

Jamie was red faced with frustration now as he kicked and pounded.

"Dad-dad!" he roared. "Num num!"

"Okay, okay," Jim shoveled the spoonful in and Jamie sucked it down. The big man froze as he pulled the cleaned spoon from the baby's mouth, and then turned to see if Blair had heard what he had. Blair was grinning from ear to ear, pride and delight welling up in his chest and threatening to overwhelm him. He remembered his joy the first time he realised Jamie was saying his name, and saw that joy echoed on Jim's face as the truth dawned. Without words Blair laid his hand on Jim's and squeezed. With shining eyes Jim squeezed back.

Impatient at further delay Jamie pounded again on his little table. "Num num," he said warningly and with a huge grin Jim ladled another spoonful of goop into his mouth. He was learning.

The End.

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