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  "That's nice." Blair smiled, but as Jim looked down at his partner, he could almost see the wheels turning in the kid's head. What's he planning? Jim didn't have to wait long to find out.

  "Jim," Blair said casually. "Why don't you take Hannah out to dinner tonight? As a sort of 'thank you' for what she did."

  "Sandburg, I'm not going anywhere-"

  "You've both been sitting around for hours, waiting," Blair cut in, his voice overriding Jim's. "And I bet all you've had in that time is coffee--and lots of it. You can't tell me you're not hungry."

  "Sandburg-"

  "Take the woman to dinner," he insisted. "And then go home. I'll be fine until morning. All I'm going to do is sleep and I don't need you here for that."

  Jim narrowed his eyes as he stared down at his guide. "Okay," he finally relented. "I'll go. But I'll be back first thing tomorrow to take you home."

  "You'd better be," Blair smiled. "Now go...and have a good time!"

  Jim patted his shoulder gently before turning toward the door. As he grasped the handle, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. Blair lay with his eyes closed, a satisfied smile still on his lips. Jim shook his head. "Get better, Chief," he whispered before slipping out the door.

  /

  /

  /

  Jim pulled into Hannah's driveway and turned off the engine of the truck. Dinner had been pleasant. The unseasonably warm weather had allowed Jim and Hannah to park several blocks down from the restaurant and enjoy a leisurely walk before and after dinner. And Hannah's company? Jim smiled to himself. In spite of the trauma of the day, she had managed to put the events surrounding Philip Kaage in the background. She had been comfortable to talk with, open yet unassuming.

  "So," he began, glancing over at her, "it must make you happy to know you can sleep safely in your own home tonight."

  "Oh, yes," she agreed, smiling at him.

  "I'll walk you to your door." Exiting the cab, Jim crossed to the other side of the truck and helped Hannah down. Offering his arm, he walked her to the front entry of her house, then waited as she inserted the key and pushed the door open.

  "Jim," she said softly, looking up at him. "Thank you for everything you've done for me over the past few days. I...I don't think I could have gotten through this without you."

  Jim smiled warmly at her. "I'm just happy it's over." He cocked his head to the side, studied her for a moment. "Are you sure you're all right? After everything that happened today..."

  "I'm fine. Honest. It's going to take some time to adjust to the fact that I...that I actually killed someone. But I know I had no other choice..." She bit at her lip. "You really don't think the DA's office will press charges against me?"

  "We'll know in a day or two, but I really doubt they will."

  She paused for a moment, then looked up at him shyly. "Would...would you like to come in for a while? I could make us some coffee..."

  "Thank you, but I want to get back to the hospital and check on Sandburg."

  A hint of confusion crossed her features. "It's after visiting hours. You won't be able to see him."

  Jim chuckled. "Believe me, Sandburg and I are rather well known at Cascade General. They'll let me in." Tentatively, he reached out and took Hannah's hand in his own, pleased when she squeezed his fingers in response. "I enjoyed dinner. Very much. Maybe...if you'd like...we could have dinner together again sometime?"

  The expression on Hannah's face took Jim by surprise, and he felt a warm tug at his heart. He'd never seen her smile so openly, had never noticed how beautiful she really was. "I'd like that very much," she answered him.

  He nodded. Then--slowly, hesitantly--he leaned toward her. She didn't pull away from his advance; rather, she moved to him, showing him that his closeness was welcome. Jim paused for just the slightest second, then pressed a light, tender kiss against her lips.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he promised as he pulled away. Giving her hand a small squeeze, he let go of her fingers and reached up to touch softly at her cheek. He smiled as she leaned into his touch, then turned and made his way to his truck.

  /

  /

  /

  Jim walked down the dimly lit hospital corridor toward his partner's room. A calming silence pervaded the hallway, testimony to the fact that it was late and most patients were sleeping. Even the nurse's station, a hive of chaotic activity during the day, had assumed an atmosphere of quiet. A couple nurses manned the station, their heads bent over paperwork.

  As Jim pushed Blair's door open, he saw a nurse adjusting the IV beside the young man's bed. His guide lay beyond her, his face turned away from the door, obviously sound asleep.

  The nurse glanced at him over her shoulder as he moved quietly to the side of the bed. She was pretty, her auburn hair framing her heart-shaped face. "What are you doing back here, Detective?" she whispered.

  Jim stared down at his partner's peaceful expression, listened in for a brief moment to his soft breathing. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

  "He's doing fine. We gave him something to help him sleep...which is what you should be doing." She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "You look exhausted. Why don't you go home? I'll watch over Blair tonight."

  He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "I will. Soon. I just want to sit with him for a while."

  "All right," she gave in. "But only for a little while. He's getting out of here tomorrow and he's going to need to take it easy for a few days. Which means he's going to need someone around to help him--someone who is awake, Detective."

  Jim chuckled aloud at the nurse's admonition, then reddened a bit in embarrassment under the unhappy gaze she shot in his direction. But he couldn't help it. It always amazed him how easily Blair managed to worm his way into the hearts of the people around him. Jim couldn't remember ever meeting this particular nurse before tonight. He was sure she was new to the hospital staff, which meant Blair didn't know her either, yet here she was ordering him around on behalf of his wounded partner and making sure Blair would be well taken care of once he left her supervision.

  "Don't worry," Jim explained. "He's not going to be doing any heavy lifting for some time to come."

  "Well, that's good to hear." Her gaze softened as she took a final look down at her patient, then turned and left the room.

  Jim shook his head as he smiled down at his sleeping partner. "Well, buddy, you've got another one wrapped around your finger. I bet she'd even give you an extra helping of green Jell-O if you asked her." Reaching out, he brushed gently at the hair that had fallen across Blair's forehead. His hand lingered against his guide's temple. His skin felt cool and dry to Jim's touch and relief flooded the sentinel. No fever--meaning no infection from the knife wound. "Caught a break this time, didn't we, Chief?"

  Blair murmured softly, as if in response to Jim's rhetorical question.

  "I'm just sorry it happened at all," Jim added. Stepping back from the bed, he dropped into the hard plastic chair at its side. He frowned at his sleeping partner, his mind racing in what seemed to be a hundred different directions. "I can't figure out how Kaage found us," he whispered, his gaze never leaving Blair. "We should have been safe at the motel. No one knew about that place but Simon, and I'm sure we weren't followed." He ran a hand over his face and back through his hair. "It just doesn't make any sense to me."

  Sandburg mumbled again, shifting slightly where he lay.

  "Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Jim agreed, smiling at his sleeping friend. "I don't know, Chief, this one's got me puzzled. I'm worried that maybe Kaage wasn't working alone, though that just doesn't seem to be in keeping with a stalker's MO. But something tells me we might not be out of the woods yet." Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes. "I hope I'm wrong," he muttered, focusing again on his guide's soft breathing. Within seconds, his tired thoughts began to drift away until only the sound of Blair's steady heartbeat filled his mind...

  ...He blinked several times, unsure of what had awakene
d him. But as the dimly lit room around him came into focus, he heard it--a low, barely audible whispering. He looked toward the sound and found himself staring into Blair's groggy blue eyes.

  "Jim. Go home," his partner said again.

  Ellison pushed to his feet, glancing down at his watch as he crossed to the bed. 1:10 a.m. "Hey, you're awake." He gave Blair a bright smile.

  "Only because you're here," Sandburg responded, his words slurred slightly; whatever they had given him to help him sleep was obviously still having an affect. "Go home so I can sleep."

  Jim shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

  "I can't sleep if I know you're going to be sitting here all night in that stiff chair." He blinked up at Jim, his eyes taking longer than usual to reopen each time. "You need your rest, too. Please. Go home."

  Reaching out, Jim touched lightly at Blair's shoulder. "Okay."

  "I should win all our arguments that easily," Blair slurred out.

  Jim chuckled and patted sympathetically at Sandburg's shoulder. "That wouldn't be much fun. I have to make you work for some of your victories, you know."

  His only response was a quietly derisive huff of laughter.

  "Blair..."

  He waited until Sandburg's eyes opened again and his sleepy gaze focused on him. "I'm sorry about all this. If I'd known Kaage was anywhere near that motel, I'd have never left you and Hannah alone."

  Blair's eyes slipped closed but a tiny smile curled his lips. "I know that, Jim. Not your fault. 'Sides, Hannah's safe now."

  "Yes, she is."

  "Hmmm..." Blair intoned sleepily. "Hannah. Did you two have a nice evening?"

  Jim grinned at Blair's mild teasing, the smile broadening as thoughts of his dinner with Hannah came back to him. He was pleasantly surprised to realize just how much he really had enjoyed Hannah's company. "Yes, Chief, I did," he answered his now-sleeping partner. "I really did."

  Part Four

  Jim ran the warm, wet washcloth over his face, wiping away the last of the shaving cream. Tying his robe closed, he made his way to the kitchen and reached up to take the coffee down from the cupboard. His hand paused in mid-air as a light knock sounded on the front door.

  Padding across the loft, he opened the door and smiled. "Hannah. This is a pleasant surprise." His gaze took in the two bags she was carrying. "What's this?"

  "I brought coffee...and breakfast." She looked down at the bags she held in her hand, then back at Jim, giving him a timid smile. "I hope you like bagels and cream cheese."

  "I love bagels and cream cheese," Jim assured her with a smile, stepping aside to usher her into the loft. "But you didn't have to do this..."

  She waved off his concern. "I guessed you probably wouldn't eat anything this morning unless it was brought to you."

  Jim laughed. "You guessed correctly." Motioning toward the table, he said, "Thank you, Hannah. This is very nice."

  "It's my pleasure," she responded quietly as she set the bag on the table and opened it. Glancing over at him, she raised her eyebrows. "The loft looks better than the last time I saw it."

  "Thanks. I was too tired to deal with it when I got home last night so I tackled the mess this morning." Jim looked toward the kitchen cupboards, then back at Hannah as a thought crossed his mind. He gestured at the bags on the table. "I forgot about our dishes being destroyed. I can see if we have some napkins--"

  "All taken care of," Hannah cut in with a smile. Pushing her hand down into one of the bags, she withdrew a stack of small paper plates. Holding them up for his inspection, she gestured toward the upstairs bedroom. "Why don't you go ahead and get dressed? I'll get everything ready."

  Nodding his head, Jim made his way up the stairs to his room. Pausing at the top of the steps, he looked down at Hannah, watched her for a moment while she set out their breakfast. A tiny smile twitched at the corner of his lips. This is nice, he thought to himself. This is very, very nice.

  ----

  Breakfast passed quickly, a blur of warm smiles, soft laughter and pleasant conversation. Jim observed Hannah closely as they talked and ate, watching for signs of distress from the previous day's events. But she remained calm, centered...and mostly focused on how Jim was doing.

  "I'm okay," Jim assured her for the second time as he reached for another bagel. "Just a bit tired."

  "I'm sure you'll rest better when Blair is back home."

  He nodded as he spread a thin layer of cream cheese across the bread. "Absolutely." A mischievous smile graced his features. "And so will he."

  Hannah nodded in sympathetic understanding, then looked up and caught the devilish gleam in Jim's eye. "What?" she chuckled out.

  "Nothing," Jim said, laughing lightly. "It's just that Sandburg doesn't get much rest whenever he's in the hospital. He expends a great amount of energy flirting with all the nurses and persuading them to let him have their phone numbers."

  Hannah giggled. "Yes, I've noticed that your partner is quite a charmer."

  Briefly, Jim related his experience with the new nurse who had been fussing over Blair the night before. "I guarantee you that Sandburg will have her number before he leaves the hospital this morning and she'll think it was all her idea," he said with a smile. Glancing down at his watch, he noted how much time had passed. Looking back at Hannah, he said, "It's later than I thought. I need to go..."

  "Then go," she said, standing and gesturing toward the door. "I'll take care of cleaning up here."

  "Hannah," he protested as he stood as well, "You don't have to clean up..."

  "I want to." She smiled and again gestured toward the door. "Go get your partner, Detective. I'll lock up after myself when I leave."

  Moving around the table, Jim leaned over and placed a quick kiss against her cheek. "Thank you," he said.

  She laughed and pushed lightly at his chest. "You're welcome. Now, go!"

  /

  /

  /

  Blair looked up as the door to his hospital room opened. He smiled as Jim strode inside. "Hey, man, where have you been? I feel like I've been waiting forever." He'd raised the bed until he could sit almost upright, but as Jim moved toward him, he shifted slightly, the ache in his stomach preventing him from staying in any one position for too long.

  "Sorry, Chief," Jim apologized, walking up to the side of the bed. "I stopped at the mall along the way to pick up a few things for you."

  Blair raised an eyebrow as Jim set a bag gently in his lap. Moving slowly, cringing slightly at the pain in his stomach, Blair opened the bag and peeked in. A pair of gray sweats, a white tee-shirt and a blue-checked flannel shirt lay inside, all of them still bearing store tags. Blair hadn't even thought about the fact that most of his clothes had been destroyed by Philip Kaage. But Jim had. Not only had Jim thought about it, he'd gone to the trouble of stopping to pick some clothes up for him--the exact type of clothes Blair liked to wear when he was relaxing around the loft.

  "Thanks, man," he told Jim softly. "I appreciate this."

  "Well, I couldn't have you running around in your hospital gown, flashing everyone, now could I? I'd have to arrest you. And then there'd be all the razzing I'd have to take at the station..."

  Blair chuckled softly. "You have a point."

  "I bought a few more shirts to tide you over," Jim said as Blair looked up at him again. "They're in the truck. You're lucky, actually. Some of your clothes were in the dirty laundry hamper so those are intact. They just need to be washed."

  "I appreciate this, Jim. And I'll pay you back for this stuff," Blair said, grimacing in obvious pain as he slid from the bed.

  Jim took his arm, helping him as he made his way slowly to the bathroom. "Don't worry about it. Consider it a 'get well' present."

  /

  /

  /

  As Blair dressed, Jim made sure all the paperwork was ready for his release. The nurse who had been on duty the night before--the one who had told Jim he needed to rest in order to take care of Blair-
-was still working...and she insisted, when the time came, on escorting Blair down to the lobby herself.

  Trailing behind Sandburg's wheelchair, listening to the nurse as she teased with his partner, Jim couldn't help but wonder if the woman's shift was truly this long...or if she was just working extra hours in order to talk with Blair while he was conscious.

  His answer came in the form of a small piece of paper she slipped to Blair just before they exited the hospital. Her phone number, she told Blair, just in case he needed some "after hours care." The kid had gotten her number, just as Jim had told Hannah he would.

  The sentinel chuckled as he slid into the cab of the truck, Blair already resting comfortably in the passenger seat.

  "What?" Sandburg asked as Jim cranked the engine to life.

  "After hours care," Jim said, giving him a sidelong look. "That's a good one!"

  Blair tucked the phone number into the front pocket of his new shirt and smiled smugly. "Hey, man, I don't know what you're thinking. The woman's a professional. She was just offering me her services."

  Jim narrowed his eyes. "Right."

  As they drove the short distance to the loft, Jim filled Blair in on the case, telling him what little they knew so far: Kaage was dead, killed by Hannah; the DA still hadn't announced his decision about charging the young woman, although he didn't believe there would be a problem, especially once he and Blair filed their reports regarding what happened at the motel. He talked about everything except what he knew Blair really wanted to hear--how did dinner go last night?

  Pulling up in front of the loft, Jim parked the truck in its usual spot. He grabbed the bags containing Blair's new clothes before moving around to Sandburg's side of the truck.

  "Thanks, man," Blair managed between gritted teeth as Jim helped him out. The sentinel kept a steadying hand on his guide's arm as they made their way slowly toward the loft.

  "Just point me toward the couch," Blair muttered as they stepped over the threshold and into the apartment. But as they passed the kitchen counter, Blair paused to snatch up a piece of paper. "What's this?" He squinted down at it, straining to read what was written. "Eli Stoddard called. Heard what happened to Blair and wanted to make sure he was okay. Please call him back." He looked up at Jim, one eyebrow raised in question. "Who wrote this?"