1. Winners by JAC's ghostwriter
  2. Into the Ground by Hazel
  3. Shaping Up by Sis
  4. Catch Me When I Fall by Wolfshy
  5. Fruit Salad by Ceci
  6. Blair Was Sick by Sleepy

by JAC (Ghostwritten)

Blair Sandburg was pooped.  It was Friday afternoon, and just by his face you could see he was too pooped to party, and for Blair Sandburg, that was being POOPED.

Everyone in the bullpen had been waiting for the crash.  Now everyone in the bullpen was watching for it.  Of course, his partner was not there to watch. Jim Ellison had had to be finesssd all week to keep him from interfering. The Sentinel was far too much of a mother-hen to have allowed his Guide to get into this state without stepping in and DOING SOMETHING.

So once the rest of Major Crimes had gotten a really good look at just how wiped Blair was when he trudged through the Department's doors, his backpack trailing on the ground and only still attached to the Guide by a grip Death itself could not break (kinda like the bond he had with Jim, come to think of it), Simon had  hurriedly arranged for Jim to take a suddenly-crucial witness interview in a pickpocket case and shooed him out before he could see just how far down Blair was.

"What's the pot?" murmured someone wearing brown.

"Two fifty," came the whispered reply from the blonde holding the bucks.

"Who's out of it?"

"Jim . . . "

"Duh!" sounded a bunch of voices far too loudly, and Blair looked blearily up for a second before succumbing to overwhelming fatigue and plopping himself at Jim's desk.

"Shhh!" the blonde cautioned.  "It's down to Simon and Joel.  Simon's got him until 4:30.  Joel's got him till 5:00.  If he lasts any longer than 5:00 p.m., it's all bets off."

"'Kay," came the muttered agreement from all around.  Papers were shuffled, chairs adjusted, and watches checked as the sweep hand moved on the department clock overhead.  It was quarter past four.

Tick.  Blair blinked at the screen and tried to make sense of an arrest report Jim was working on when Simon booted him from the program.

Tick.  The screen didn't change when Blair shook his head, trying to make the words go away.

Tick.  Blair put his hands on the keyboard and that was it.

The system crashed.

BAM!  Retribution walked in.

"What the HELL did you do to him?" thundered Thor, striding over to where his partner had collapsed facedown on the desk.  He picked up the Guide's head by its long locks and noted absently that the symbols F4, F5, and all the F's through 11 were imprinted on Blair's forehead.  Then he put it gently down again, turning it compassionately so that Caps Lock, Shift and Ctrl could press gently against his partner's cheek.

"I'm waiting," Thor said, tapping his foot in time with the tic in his jaw.

There was dead silence.

"I'm still waiting," Thor announced, crossing his massive arms to great effect, "and I'm getting impatient."   Blue eyes shot lighning bolts across the room and stabbed one Henri Brown straight through the conscience.

"Uh, he's okay, r-right, Jim?" H faltered.

"He's out like a light, dead asleep, and I want to know WHAT THE HELL YOU DID TO HIM . . . *NOW*!"  Thor trumpeted.

Simon stepped bravely forward.  He outranked Thor, after all.  He was safe. He thought he was safe.  Oh, dear lord, maybe he wasn't so safe after all. Thor was making his way over to him.

"Simon?" Thor purred like a great cat.

"It was just, just, um, a little practical joke, that's all.  A little, teeny, tiny practical joke.  Just teeny-weeny . . . "

Thor was not buying it.  He grabbed Simon by the shoulders and very nearly shook him like a rat.  Simon knew just how close he had come to being ratted out by his best detective.

"The truth, now!  Captain!"

The words were a torrent of floodwaters.  "Energizer Bunny.  How long could he keep it up.  Found out how busy he was at school.  Scheduled you for double shifts, one of 'em stakeouts so he'd be out with you, and called him to come in for paperwork backlog when you were off.  Figured he'd conk out in a day or two.  Surprised us all."  Simon finally had to stop for breath. Thor let him go.

Heads were nodding around the room.  Thor didn't seem to be in a homicidal mood, yet.  Maybe honest confession would get them off the hook.

"Started Monday," Rafe hastened to unburden himself.

"Figured he'd crack by Wednesday," Joel muttered, "but he kept going."

"And you replaced the bets, right?" Thor demanded to know with all self-righteousness.

"Uh, yeah, everyone replaced their bets," Rhonda said, showing the slightest corner of one green bill in her folded hands.  She had the sense to throw the cash in the air when Thor swooped down upon it, and cower in her chair.

"And just who won this pot?"  This time Thor was being polite.  He was slightly busy counting the cash.

"Uh, I did," Simon asserted, checking the time.  Yep, it was not yet half past.

"Wrong!"  Thor smiled triumphantly.  "HE won the pot.  On Wednesday.  You losers!"

The bullpen began to simmer silently but Thor swept it with an icy glance and all was still again.

"We are taking the whole of next week off," Thor explained to the people who owed him and his Guide both for a week of hell.  "We may take the whole of the following week off."

Major Crimes was a little peeved, but knew better than to contest with Thor in this mood.

"You will catch all the bad guys, the bombers, the mad serial killers, the warmongers and arson attempts and sieges of the P.D.  Not us.  We are on vacation.  Losers."

Thor strode back to the desk, pocketing the money, picked up his partner in a fireman's carry and lugged him out into the hall.

"How'd I do?" whispered the Energizer Bunny too softly for anyone but a Sentinel to hear.

"Great.  Good plan.  Shut up.  We have fishing to do and we haven't ditched the losers yet."

The bunny kept silent as he was carried from the field of victory.

From: "Hazel" <hazel@celticlass.freeserve.co.uk>

Julie, I hope that you're better soon. I'm thinking about you and praying for you and I hope to be "talking" to you again
soon. This story is just for you.


Into the Ground
By Hazel

Blair Sandburg opened the stairwell door and walked along the corridor to the loft. He was so tired. He was looking forward to just collapsing in front of the TV and not moving for the rest of the night. As he opened the door he very quickly
realized that wouldn't be happening.

"Hey, Chief." Jim Ellison looked up from the card table where he sat with Simon, Joel and Henri Brown.

"Oh, man. I totally forgot it was poker night." Blair dropped his backpack next to the small table at the door and threw his
keys into the basket.

"So we noticed." Jim grinned at his friend. "You gonna join us?"

"Nah, I think I'll sit this one out, guys." Blair took off his coat and hung it on one of the hooks behind the door.

Rafe passed him on his way back to the table, with several beers in his hands. "Good. You've taken enough money of each
of us over the past few months." Rafe's smile softened his words.

Simon kept his eyes on his cards as he spoke to Blair. "Wise decision. Your partner's threatening to clean me out. I don't
want any more competition."

Blair laughed. "Haven't you ever heard of quitting while you're ahead?"

Jim smirked. "That only works if you actually win something."

Joel placed his cards down on the table. "I think that lesson's just started to sink in, Jim."

Jim frowned and looked over at his roommate. "You alright? You sound a little out of breath."

"Yeah, I'm fine. The elevator's out. Had to take the stairs." Blair sighed as he walked toward the kitchen. As he reached
the counter he started to feel light-headed. The sounds in the room began to seem very far away and he reached out to grab
the edge of the counter. "Whoa."

"You okay, Chief?"

"Yeah, Hairboy. You don't look so hot." Brown's voice seemed to echo in Blair's ears.

"I'm fine. I'll be okay." As Blair tried to hold on to the counter, the voices became more muffled and darkness started
to surround him, until he could no longer keep it at bay.


"Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the hospital, Jim."

Hospital? Blair wondered what Simon was talking about. Was somebody sick?

"He's fine, Simon. He just fainted." Jim's voice seemed very far away, but Blair was glad that the echoing effect had gone
from his head. "He hasn't been sleeping much this past week. I've heard him every night, tapping away at his laptop. The
kid's been running himself ragged."

Fainted? Blair tried to clear the fog from his brain. Someone fainted? He tried to pry his eyes open, wondering where he
was. "Jim?"

Blair could hear footsteps coming closer. "Hey, Chief. You okay?"

Blair opened his eyes and looked around him. He was lying on his bed, covered with a blanket. Five very concerned faces
hovered above him. "Uh. What's going on?"

Jim sat down next to him, on the edge of the bed. "You fainted."


"Yeah. You took a nosedive, kid." Brown grinned.

"I fainted?" Blair looked at each man as they nodded their heads.

"You feel okay now?" Jim's voice was full of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Blair rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Didn't get much sleep last night. Guess it's catching up with me."

"Last night? More like the past week. You shouldn't do this to yourself, Chief. You're running yourself into the ground."

Blair tried to push himself up onto his elbows, only to have Jim place a hand on his chest and push him back down. "You're
not going anywhere for the next day or two."

"C'mon. Jim. I have classes to teach and I need to be at the station with you."

"Don't argue, Sandburg." Simon butted in. "I don't want to see your face at the station for the rest of the week." Simon
turned to Jim. "That goes for you too, Ellison. You've got plenty of leave stored up. I have a feeling you're gonna need
it to keep an eye on the kid."

"Yeah, and if we see you in the bullpen, Blair, we'll arrest you." Joel grinned.

Blair looked from Jim to Simon, and back again. "Come on, guys. What about my classes?"

"You can call in sick. Can't you, Chief?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose so, but I'm okay now. Really."

Jim smiled and patted Blair on the shoulder, turning his head to speak to Simon.

"Some time off would be great, Simon. We could go away for a few days. There's this fishing spot I've been meaning to try
out. It's a pity you can't come with us."

"Well, we never did get to finish our last fishing trip. If I remember right, we were interrupted by poachers." Simon
grinned. "What time do we leave?"

"Hey, guys. I'm right here. I don't want to go fishing. I don't need any time off."

Jim pulled the cover up to Blair's chin. "Get some sleep, Chief. Looks like we've got an early start in the morning."
Jim stood up and walked out the French doors. When the other four men had left the room, he started to pull the door after


"Yeah, Chief?"

"You don't need to take time off work."

Jim smiled. "I know."

"I mean it, man. I'm okay."

The older man shook his head and walked back to the bed. "You're making yourself sick, Blair. You need to take some
time out."

Blair sighed. "I'm just tired."

"Exactly. So why can't we just get away for a few days. You can get plenty of rest and Simon and I can get in some
fishing. You can even bring along that weird fishing spear of yours."

Blair grinned. "You won't make fun of it this time?"

Jim drew in a deep breath. "You're asking a lot Chief."

Blair grinned.

Jim grinned back at his friend. "So you're okay with this?"

"Yeah. It's okay." Blair pushed the blanket back with one hand and smacked Jim on the arm. "What are you doing talking to me, man? I need my sleep. We've got an early start in the morning."

Jim smiled and pulled the covers back over Blair. "Night, Chief."

As his roommate walked out of the bedroom and closed the doors, Blair smiled. "Night, Jim. And thanks."


From:  "Sis" <morticia@twave.net>
 Shaping Up
 by Sis

 "Hey, my list - what'd you do with my list, Man?"

 "List?"  Jim mumbled from behind the newspaper.  He had the television on, his feet rested on the coffee table, and he was otherwise aggravatingly relaxed.  Blair, having an unnecessarily bad day, wanted to shove him in the floor.

 "Yes, my list of things to do."

 "You don't have enough things to do?"

 "I have *tons* of things to do, and they're all on that damned list."

 "Oh."  Jim muttered, without so much as glancing up.

 "This is a crisis, you know - I have everything on that list I need to do this week!"  Blair's voice had risen to the point where Jim finally found it necessary to put the paper down.  "Sandburg don't you think you're - you know, over the top a bit here?  Maybe you need a breather."

 "Don't you think I'd take one if I could?  If I didn't have a whole list of things to do -"

 "Well, you don't seem to have one, do you?"  Jim chuckled, then stopped when the joke fell as flat as an undercooked pancake.  He shrugged, and went back to the paper.  "Oh well."

 "Found it!"  Blair yelled.  "Who put it under a coffee cup?"

 Jim raised the paper a bit higher.  He could hear his roommate muttering as he made his way into the bedroom.  Sandburg really *was* pushing it, but who was Jim to say anything about it?  He'd only known the grad student about four months, and he seemed to thrive on motion.  He wanted to help Jim, he wanted to be an anthropology professor, he wanted to teach class, and God help him, he seemed determined to do something 24 hours a day.  Sometimes Ellison could get tired just watching him.

 These last few weeks though - some special mid-terms or something.  Tutoring.  An insistence on staying with Jim during a particularly long and grueling stakeout.  Sandburg was always hyper, but lately he'd gotten edgier, more excitable.  Jim was sure it wasn't exactly healthy, but Sandburg was an adult, and he figured he knew his limits.  Self-preservation should kick in sometime, he guessed.  Amidst all the banging from Blair's room, Ellison heard a very defining growl of an empty stomach.  That was a good one.  He decided not to mention it, mostly because Sandburg would go through the roof and immediately add that new ability to a notebook or something.  Probably didn't mean anything anyway, except that he couldn't exactly remember when Sandburg had last eaten.  He hadn't done so this morning, running out the door with his coat half on.  Surely he'd gotten something on campus.  Maybe he should ask.

 "Oh Crap!"  Blair yelled from the bedroom.

 Maybe not.

 Just then someone knocked at the door.  And Jim surprised himself by knowing just who it was.  Simon.  But he couldn't brag about it because the captain wasn't alone.  He stood up, laying the paper aside and concentrating.  Simon's cigars, and something else - Taggert's aftershave.  He almost turned around to tell Blair, but more noise from the bedroom discouraged him.  "Keep it down in there, will you Chief?"

 When Jim opened the door, Simon stalked in, cigar smoke following him.  "Bout time.  I thought we'd stand out there all night."

 Jim raised his eyebrow at Taggert, who mouthed 'bad day' over the captain's shoulder.

 "Taggert's dragging me out to a steakhouse - want to come?  I thought we'd ask, even though you've been laying around here on your ass all day - "

 "After working 16 hours over last week."  Jim noted.

 "But I figured what the heck, you might as well hear how everything has gone to hell in a handbasket - "

 "I wouldn't miss it, Sir."  Jim said gallantly, reaching for his coat.

 Just then, Blair came out of his bedroom, looking distinctly frazzled.  His clothes were rumpled, his hair was mussed, and Jim couldn't help but notice that his face seemed a bit pasty.  "You okay, Chief?"

 "Lost a paper."

 "I thought you found - "

 "No, I mean, you know, a written paper.  Something I spent a bunch of time working on - that - that ancient society thing - "  Blair seemed to be choosing his words with utmost care, speaking slowly.

 "Wanna come eat with us Sandburg?"  Taggert asked, and Jim *heard* Simon bite off the end of his cigar.

 "No, it's okay."  Blair said.  He went into the kitchen and began checking the drawers.

 "I don't think it's in with the silverware, Chief."  Jim said helpfully.

 "But I've looked everywhere else."  Sandburg paused, and Jim felt something happen - something stop or slow down.  It was if the air in the room hit a ripple or something.  Then he heard a definite thump, and he was standing by himself.

 When he blinked again, Simon and Taggert were in the kitchen, and Sandburg was - Sandburg was in a heap on the floor.  Oh shit.

 He bent down next to them, trying to concentrate, watching them check Blair's vitals, and it was okay, really, he wanted to say, but for some reason couldn't.  He could hear Blair's heart - a little fast, but strong.  He could see his chest rise and fall.  Suddenly he knew what it was, aside from all his training as a medic.  Sandburg's body was doing what his will refused to do - putting a lid on it.

 "How long has it been since he's eaten?"  Simon demanded, evidently reaching the same conclusion.  He was looking at Jim as if he expected the detective to recite feeding times.

 Jim just shrugged.

 "Some detective you are."  Simon growled.  He grabbed Blair under the arms, and motioned for Joel to take his legs.  "Let's get him over to the couch."

 By the time they got his legs elevated, and were making him comfortable, Blair was already coming to.  "Oh man."  He groaned.

 Sandburg blinked his eyes open, just as Taggert laid a cool rag on his forehead.  "How do you feel?"

 "Real stupid."

 "Well, you should."  Simon said gruffly.  "What did you think you were doing?"

 "Everything under the sun."  Jim supplied, from his seat on the coffee table.  But his expression when he looked at Blair was gentle, decidedly tolerant.

 "I've been a little busier than usual."  Blair admitted.  "School just got hectic I guess, and you know, I've been observing Jim -"

 "Well, you can take it easy for at least a week."  Simon said, leaning over the back of the couch.  "Ellison can do paperwork until you get things under control."

 "Paperwork!?"  Ellison's jaw dropped.

 "Yeah, Detective.  Paperwork.  That stuff you do after a case - that stuff you're behind on."

 There was a brief glaring contest between superior and underling.  If Taggert wondered why it was so important for Sandburg to be with Ellison during his casework, he wisely kept it to himself.

 Jim finally broke.  "Okay."  He glanced at Blair.  "But just until the Professor gets back on his feet."

 "Deal."  Simon said, wondering why as boss, he had to barter to get his way.

 "And you,"  Jim said, looking at Blair.  "Are going to eat, drink, behave, and otherwise get yourself back in shape."

 Sandburg did a mock salute from his prone position.  "Yes, Sir.  Thank you very much, Sir."

 "Wise ass."  Jim said, getting up and walking into the kitchen.  "Takeout, Gentlemen?  It's not like we can go out on the town with Darwin here - he looks like road kill."

 "Love you too,"  Blair muttered under his breath.

 "Yeah, whatever."  Simon dropped into a chair.  "Now let me tell you what happened at work today..."

From: "Wolfshy JG" <wolfshy@hotmail.com>

This one is for you Julie. Please get well soon.

It hasn't been betaread so all mistakes are mine and you know they don't belong to me.


Catch me when I fall.
By Wolfshy

Stepping into the bullpen, the curly head figure wiped the sweat from his forehead. His eyes  roamed around the room finally landing on the empty desk in far left corner. "Great. Just Great." He mumbled to himself then turned around and asked, "H., have  you seen Jim?  I was suppose to meet him here at noon."

"Yea. He's in the captain's office and if I were you, I would stay away from there."

"That bad, huh."  wiping more sweat off his forehead.

Brown had notice the beads of sweat coming off the young man when he walked in, but didn't say anything because to him it was kind of warm. And Maybe Sandburg just perspired more then others.   "Hairboy, you feeling okay?"

"Yea, I 'm fine. Just hot. Did the Air condition quit working again? "

Brown went over the thermostat and push it down to 70 degrees. He took  another look at Blair, who was now sitting at Jim' s desk. "Does that help any?"

Blair put on his best smile he could muster up and answered, "Yea, it does. Thanks, H."

Brown still wasn't convince, but he decided to let it go for now.  If Blair was really sick, he was sure he would have told him. He didn't have time to play games, he had to have a report  typed up and on the captain's desk by two. That only left two hours.  "You're welcome. Now if you excuse me, I need go find my partner so we can get this report done before the captain has my head."

Blair waved Brown off.

Fifteen minutes later.

Blair took off his glasses and rubbed between his eyes. When he had first walked in, his head hurt a little, but now it felt like someone was beating it with a hammer. His close were damp from the sweat still pouring off of him. He felt nauseated.

"Ughhhhh." he yelped.  "I wonder if Jim still has that bottle of Tylenol in here some where. " Blair rampaged though the
desk drawers. "Uh Huh. Yesss." Blair shouted, "I knew you be there somewhere."

He opened the bottle and shook two pills out into the palm of his hand. Noticing he didn't have anything to drink, He stood up to walk towards the break room, but  the room started to spin. He plopped back down in the chair. "Whoa. Major head rush."

When he tried to get up the second time, he doubled over in pain. It started at the lower part of the back and worked its way around to his belly button. He moaned. "Oh man, Oh man. That hurts."

He sat there for awhile longer waiting for the pain to subside.


When Brown and Rafe reenter the bullpen, Blair wasn't sitting at Jim's desk.  "I hope Sandburg decided to go home." Brown said, sitting down at his desk.

"Why, H." Rafe joining him.

"Well, he didn't look so good. I could tell he was coming down with something, but you know how hard-head he is. " Leaning over and pulling another report from the in box.

Mimicking Sandburg.  Rafe said, "I can't leave. Jim might need me. I'm his back up." Changing his voice back he the replied, "Jim was a cop long before Blair came into the picture and-------"

His words were cut off when Simon yelled, "Rafe, Brown, Joel , Megan and Sandburg. IN MY OFFICE NOW!!!!!"

Blair was just walking back into the bullpen when he heard Simon's order. He enter the office behind Megan, but didn't make it all the way before the pain returned. This time the pain was more intense. He couldn't help but scream.

"AUGGHHGGHHGGHHG. "  His knees  buckled and he felt himself falling.  But before he could hit the floor, someone
grabbed a hold of him. He didn't know whom because darkness took that moment to claim him.


Jim had been pacing up and down the hospital corridor for hours. They had rush Blair into emergency surgery. He had acute appendicitis. When Blair had first walked into Simon office, Jim knew something was wrong. He felt the heat and saw the beads of sweat radiating off of him. Simon had notice how pail Blair looked, but they were unprepared for the scream. They
both had leaped out of their chairs and was there in time to catch Blair as his knees gave out..

Now here they all were. Jim, Simon, Brown, Rafe, Megan and Joel, waiting to hear how their friend was doing. Yes, Blair was their friend now. It had been a long road for him, but he finally beat the odds. He was now one of them. He might not be a cop, but he was still part of the team. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts and didn't notice the doctor heading their way.

"Detectives Ellison. I am Dr. Sanders."

Jim shook hands with the doctor then asked, "How 's Sandburg?"

The doctor smiled and answered, "Mr. Sandburg is going to be just find. The surgery went find. We will be keeping him for a few days to make sure he doesn't develop an infection. If non is present in two days, he is free to go home. We have already moved him to a room so if you like you can go see him. He is in room 345."

"Thank you, Dr. Sanders."



"Chief, Are you awake?"

"mmmmmm, im" Blair shifted in the bed. "UHGGG"

"Easy, Chief. You just had surgery." Jim laid his hand on Blair's shoulder to keep him from moving.

"S*g*ery?" Blair eyes finally came into focus.

Jim smiled. "Yes. You had acute appendicitis."


"OH, is that all you can say? "

Smiling, "NO." Blair laid his hands on top of Jim's "Thanks for catching me. I knew you wouldn't let me fall. "

The end.

And Julie, We're not going to let you fall either. Keep fighting.

Title: Fruit salad
Author/pseudonym: Ceci
E-mail address: ceci@swipnet.se
Not beta'd
Rating: PG for language.
Status: New, Complete.
Date: Oct 30, 1999
Archive: If you want to.
Warnings: Language (you'll know when you see it), smarm & silliness.
Category: Variations on a theme for Jules.
Summary: "A scene where Blair passes out in front of 2 or more of the Major Crime guys."
Spoilers: Probably.

You may discuss my fic on list or privately.

Dedicated to our wonderful Dutch listsib Julie "Jules" Goldwyn. Ik heb geen haast, maar get well soon, sweetheart!

It was a fine Tuesday evening in Cascade. Jim, Blair, Rafe and Brown were on a stakeout at what was supposed to be a
restaurant run by some Dutchmen, but that in reality was just a cover for an illegal drug business. After nearly 14 hours, they were all tired  and hungry. Blair was no exception. "Why can't we just go in there and get some food?"

Jim sighed. "Because we would never be able to bust them after that - they'd probably recognize us as cops. I don't want to
risk it just because your tummy's grumbling."

Blair looked irritated. "You have to have your hearing turned down or something man, 'cause my tummy's roaring."

Jim didn't hear him though, he was fully concentrated on a conversation inside the 'restaurant'.

"Wat ziet er in de...'vruchtensla'?"

"Daar zijn...'appels', 'peren', 'bananen' en 'ananas'"

"What's going on, Jim?"

"Two men are talking."

And? Blair thought. "What are they saying, Jim?"

Jim shrugged. "I have no idea, Chief. They seem to be speaking Dutch. Maybe you could interpret for me."

"Hey, man, I don't know Dutch!" Blair was tired of everybody assuming that just because you had a European last name, you
knew all European languages.

"I thought you had Dutch ancestors."

Blair sighed. "Swedish, Jim. And German. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

An hour later, the situation was unchanged except for the arrival of Detectives Rafe and Brown. Rafe asked, "Anything?"

Jim shook his head. "Nope. I heard two men talking in Dutch."

Hearing that, Brown pointed to his partner. "He knows Dutch."

"I do not", Rafe said with a tinge of irritation in his voice. "My mom taught me some Afrikaans, but it's not really the same as  Dutch. But of course, I could try. What did they say?"

Jim tried to recreate the conversation to the best of his ability, and Rafe couldn't help smiling.

"What's so funny? I know the pronunciation was way off." Jim could speak English and the Cuzqueño dialect of Quechua
fluently, but that was it.

Rafe was still smiling as he told the others what the men inside had said. "What's in the fruit salad? There are apples, pears,
bananas and pineapple."

Jim was irritated, both from hunger, exhaustion and for the silly conversation he'd taken so seriously. So he snapped. "Fruit
salad?! I've been on stakeout here for 14 hours and they're talking about FRUIT SALAD?!" With pineapple, of course, he added silently. That  was one of the few food aversions he had.

Brown walked up to him and put a hand on his chest. "Hey, Jim. Calm down, man. It's not as if you're the only one who feels
a tad...angry."

"I'd say 'p. o.d'", Rafe put in.

Blair let out a short chuckle, then his tummy grumbled once again. Jim looked at him, noticing that his friend had lost all
color in his face.

As soon as Jim saw that, he forgot about being angry and walked up to his partner and friend. "Are you OK, man?"

Blair just said, "Man, I'm starving." Then he passed out.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Jim shouted, and crouched down to hold his Guide's limp form.


Some time later, Jim sat by Blair's bed in the hospital. Blair had passed out due to low blood sugar, which was a
result of not eating properly. "Told you all that healthy stuff was bad for you, Chief," Jim mocked his friend. "Here, eat this," he continued and  handed him a glazed buttermilk donut.

Blair frowned and threw the donut on the floor. "Hey, I'm being tube fed - that's sufficient for me right now.  I'd NEVER put
that thing in my mouth!"

Jim laughed. "But those algae shakes didn't do their job now, did they?"

"OK, Sentinel 1, Guide 0," Blair sighed. "How did the stakeout turn out, by the way?"

"Rafe and Brown stayed put, and soon they witnessed some action &ndash; a sale. Both a seller and buyer were taken in, and they didn't keep us waiting with details. The men behind the business are in lockup as we speak."

"That's good," Blair said with a smile. "Still, it was embarrassing to pass out like that. If it had only been you
I'd be OK, but Brown & Rafe? I'm sure Brown has more material to mock me with after this."

The door opened, and as on cue, Detectives Rafe and Brown appeared. Rafe had a round Tupperware container in his hands.

"Hi Sandburg. Here you go. Its for Jim, too." Blair took the bowl and opened the lid to reveal the contents -- fruit salad.

"High on sugar," Brown put in, and added, "Sugarboy".

The young anthropologist knew full well how that word could be interpreted. "I hope you mean that in a nice way." The other  three men laughed.

"Laughing at my expense, eh?" Blair took out a piece of pineapple and handed it to Jim. "You either tell these two to stop
mocking me, or I'll make sure that you'll eat this somehow."

Jim tapped his index finger on his chin. "Ok, there are limits. Stop calling him that right now. I don't want to eat that
thing, no way!"

When Brown and Rafe had left, Blair began falling asleep. "I'll just take a nap, Jim," he said.

"I'll stay," Jim said. "Sleep well." Blair had already fallen asleep when Jim added, "Sugarboy."

                                              THE END

 Notes: The language most of you don't recognize is supposed to be Dutch, but I'm sure I'm way off in some
parts. The

From: Sleepy8280@aol.com

This is for you Julie, I hope you feel better.  I'm not a fast writer, and it is not beta read.  so the errors are mine.  I may need this for my dues if I can't get my other project done.  This is alittle suggestive so it is probably pg-13.

I'm praying for you.

By Sleepy

Blair did not feel good.  It had been a rough week.  Monday they had found the body of a twenty-year old girl, a student at the university.  She was the daughter of Jim's high school sweet heart.  She had died of a drug over dose.  It was a new designer drug; they called 'It'.  The strength of which varied. Who ever were making this drug wasn't very careful. This was the third person to die.  Jim had spoken to several of the classes at the university, asking for help and warning the students.  If anyone was approached or if any one knew anything, please contact him at Major Crimes or his partner Blair.

Blair and Jim had spent last night on a stake out and come up with nothing.  They had followed a lead from one of Jim's most reliable snitches, and nothing.  Jim had gone home to sleep.  He was so upset he had taken a sleeping pill to get him some much-needed sleep.  Blair would have loved to go to bed to, but he had classes in the morning.  He was planning on taking
an afternoon nap in his office, and a 4:00 o'clock class and home to bed.

Blair survived the morning classes.  His voice started to go in his last class.  It was starting to do the funny, squeaky, high, and low, in, out, laryngitis bit.  His students in his last class did laugh only a few times.  Oh, he was ready for bed.  His head hurt and he couldn't tell what temperature the room was.  He was sick.

He had almost made it to his office, when there was a disturbance in the hallway.  A fight, Blair got caught with a falling body.  Police were called.  By the time the reports were made and his class was over, it was 5:00 o'clock in the evening.  Blair decided to call Jim at the station and head home to bed.


"Jim, I'm checking in with you.  I'm fine, but I'm heading home to bed. OK?"

"You don't sound good, did you get any sleep?"

"No, I'm just tired."

"Chief, I'm sorry to ask you to do this, but we got a call a few minutes ago, with a lead on the drug case.  The person insists she'll only talk to you.  Please come to the station, she said she call back at 5:30."

Blair made to the station; it was 5:40.

"Sandburg, where have you been?"  Simon was yelling at Blair the moment he stepped into the bullpen. Blair jumped back at the sound of the yell.  He kept falling.  He was on the floor.

The next thing Blair saw was the ceiling in Simon's office.  Jim and Simon were staring at him. They both looked concerned.  Jim had a damp cloth in his hand and was wiping Blair's forehead.  His feet were elevated.

"How did I get here? What's going on?"  Blair started to get up, but was pushed down on to the couch.

"Lie still Chief, you fainted.  You have a fever. Do you want some water and aspirin?"

"Not really, but I think I had better take something.  I feel like crap."

Simon handed him an open aspirin bottle and Blair took two and then took the water glass from Jim.

"Finish that water, Chief.  How long have you been sick?"

"I started feeling bad yesterday.  But this morning was when it really hit."

"Sandburg, I'm sorry I startled you.  Jim, what are we going to do about the meeting?"

Blair spoke up.  "What meeting?"

"A girl called and said she had information on the new drug, but she would only speak with you.  When you were late getting here, we agreed to meet her at the deli near the university, at 7:00.  She said she would only show if you were there."

Jim sat down on the chair next to the couch.  He had been kneeling next to the couch wiping the forehead of Blair.  "Blair I really don't want to ask you to go with us, you should be at home in bed.  If you say no, I'll drive you home."

"Jim I'm fine, sorry I scared everyone.  I'll go.  I'm fine really."

"No, you're not fine, but you meet with her and introduce me, and let me take it from there."

"Jim, I promise I'll introduce you and then I'll go and stay in the truck, I promise.  Can I stay here until it is time to go?"

Simon answered.  "Stay where you're at, that way you won't make anymore dives in the bullpen.  And by the way, why did she ask for 'Detective Sandburg?  Are you telling people you're a cop, now?"

"No, Simon I never told anyone I'm a cop.  I don't know why she said that."

"OK, you relax kid. Jim and I are going to arrange everything."

Blair lay down and Jim and Simon left the office.

"Simon, I don't like taking Blair out like this.  But this is important."

"You two meet with this girl and get the information.  We'll take over and you can take the kid home.  You've got 15 minutes before you have to leave.  I hope this is worth the trouble."  Simon turned away from Jim and mumbled.  "I really don't mind him telling people that he is one of my detectives."  Jim laughed.

The deli was half full, it was a favorite stop for the students.

"Blair do you recognize anyone here?"

"Jim, I know several of the students.  This sucks.  The smells in here, I hope I don't get sick."

"This is a bad idea, I'm taking you home."  Jim tried to turn Blair around but he won't move.

"Jim, I'm here, now.  And this is important.  Just find a place to sit and get me something to drink, one of their fruit drinks."

"Is that an order?'

"Yes it is an order."

"Sit, Oh great leader, your servant obeys your every command."  Jim left to go to the counter with salute.

Blair tried to smile.  He was miserable.

Before Jim got back, a student of Blair's sat down at the table.  She was about 22 and was taking his intro class.  She was a handsome women, but not strikingly pretty. Blair couldn't remember her name.  He was really sick.

"Professor Sandburg, I don't know if you remember me, J.J.  Smith, I'm in you intro class."

"Of course I remember you.  If this is about class I have office hours tomorrow."  He didn't want to assume anything.

Jim returned with a juice and sat down.

"This is my partner, Detective Ellison.  Jim, this is J.J. Smith she is one of my students."

"Detective, I don't know where to begin?'

"J.J., I'm not a detective, but I am a consultant with the police.  If you need help or if you have information, please trust me, us."

"My brother lives with me.  Our parents died three years ago, and things have been tough.  Earlier today, Jason got a phone call. I picked it up in the bedroom.  I don't normally listen in on to his phone conversations but this one sounded," She paused.  "It sounded wrong, scary I don't know the words, it sent my nerves off."

Jim moved closer to Blair and leaned farther over the table.  "Please J.J., If your brother is in trouble, maybe we can help?"

"It didn't sound like he was involved, it sounded more like a recruitment.  They wanted him to join.  Offered him money if he would help.  He works for a small office supply store; he does their deliveries.  I don't want him to get into trouble."  She started to sob.

"What do they want him to do?"

"I don't know much, they want to meet him tonight where he works.  It's on Madison street, Parker's supply.  This evening."

"Madison Street is on the other side of town.  What time?"

"I don't know, just this evening."

Blair took his drink and drank part of it and looked at Jim.  "We have to go now, it is already dark and we don't have time to go to the loft it is in the opposite direction."

"I'm going with you."  J.J said.

"No, this is a police matter."

"Then I'll go on my own.  Jason is my only brother and he is all I have."

They left.  J.J. followed Jim and Blair.

"Hey Chief, how are you feeling?"  Jim could feel the heat coming off Blair and see the pale complexion.  He wished he could take him home but this was important.  He had brought a blanket and water and more aspirin just in case. He thought as he was driving to the store, I should have bought some chicken soup.

"I wish I had some chicken soup."

"Great minds think alike."

"You brought chicken soup?"

"No, I was thinking, I wish I had brought some chicken soup. She followed us.  When we get to the store, I'm going to have her stay with you in the truck.  That should keep both of you out of trouble.  Simon is going to arrange backup.  Rafe and Brown will be joining us later.  Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine.   Just don't ask me to run down a suspect."

"Just stay in the truck, please.  We're here."

An hour later, Jim had found a place to watch the store, in a small coffee shop across the street. With his Sentinel sight he could listen to Blair in the truck and still have a good view of the store, front and back. Blair and J.J. were in the truck.  Blair still had a fever and had fallen asleep.  J.J. had covered Blair with the blanket and was watching and praying her brother wouldn't do anything stupid.

Blair needed to be home in bed.  The aspirin had not taken care of the fever.  He was restless.  J.J. sat and watched.  Blair, who was sitting behind the steering wheel, moved next to her.  He seemed to want comfort.  His head came to rest on her shoulder.  J.J. felt his forehead he was hot.

In her mind she thought, *he is hot in more ways than one.  What are you thinking?  He's sick.  He isn't even aware of where he is.  Oh, his hands are touching me.  When was the last time a man touched me?  Oh, my! *

Jim, who was in the coffee shop, heard the change in the breathing in the truck.  Breathing was becoming heavy.   Was Blair getting sicker?  Jim ran out of the coffee shop and over to the truck in the parking lot.  He tapped on the window and opened the door.

"How's it going?"  Blair had curled himself next to J.J.  They had the blanket over them.

"He's asleep.  I think sleep will help him."

"Maybe I should call in backup and get him home?'

"No, what about my brother?"  It came out louder than J.J. wanted.  "Please we're alright.  I'll take care of him.  I think my brother isn't in too deep.  If we stop him now maybe it won't be bad.  Please, can we stay?  WE HAVE TO STAY!  My brother, please."

Jim opened the door wider, and reached in to touch Blair.  He still had a fever.  But it felt lower than before.  Blair stirred in his sleep.

"We're fine.  I'll take care of him, you help my brother, please."

"OK, I'll be back in an hour.  If nothing happens, Rafe and Brown can take over then."

Jim left.  Blair had moved almost into her lap when Jim closed the door.  J.J. moved her leg, his weight was heavy on her, but when she moved, he moved.  *Oh, my, now what am I going to do.  This is uncomfortable, but it feels so good.  He's moving his hands, my shirt.  OH!  Where should I put my hand?  OH!  Is this wrong?  I'm not doing anything wrong.  He climbed into my lap.  I didn't crawl into his.  He has great hands!"

Time went on.  No one came to the store.  Jim monitored the truck.  *Blair's breathing was getting heavier.  Maybe he should call backup and get him home.  He had told J.J. an hour more. *

In the truck, Blair started to wake up.  He felt where his hands were.  *What am I doing?*

"Its Ok, Blair, go back to sleep.  You need to sleep."  He started to move his hands, but she stopped his with her own hand.  She held his hand on herself.  He kissed her hand and laid his head on her hand.  "Thanks, J.J.," came a mumbled response.

The hour was almost up.  The heavy breathing in the truck had bothered Jim, but he told J.J. he would wait.  A truck drove into the parking lot behind the store.  A few minutes later a car drove in.  Jim called his backup and told them to be ready.  Jim listened.  They were recruiting Jason.  They offered him 5,000 dollars.  Jim walked up, quietly.

"Cascade PD, stand still."  Backup arrived. No one moved.  It was a quick and easy arrest.  Everyone was taken into custody.  Uniforms put the five men into 2 cruisers.

Simon arrived as the cruisers were pulling out.  "What did I miss, everything?"

"Yes, it looks good.  2 of the bad guys were talking so much we had to turn a tape player on in the car.  They told us who, what and where.  I'm going to take Sandburg home and then come in to do the follow up."

"How's Sandburg doing?  And where is Sandburg?"

"I left him and J.J. in the truck.  He still has a fever.  It was down from earlier.  I want to get him home and into bed"

"J.J. Smith, she's the informant, right.  What is she doing here?"

"She followed us here, wanted to help her brother.  She has been in the truck taking care of Blair since we got here."  Jim checked his watch, and started walking back to the truck.

"Jim tell them I said, good work, and thanks."