Night Moves

By Suisan "Sue" R.

Synopsis: A case of miscommunication leads to an interesting evening in the city of Cascade. 

Standard Disclaimer: No infringement intended, no money made off this effort, Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg are *sigh* owned by Pet Fly Productions, Paramount and others.  Characters recognizable from The Sentinel are not mine; if they were, they would have had far better exposure… *EG* 

OFC Alert: Stacie Harrington & Alicia Andreson as well as Saint Germaine & Piotr

Warnings: Sandburg's a detective, story contains some adult situations {nothing worse than what you see on the television}, and thus is given a tentative rating of PG-13 or possibly a light "R" -- mild cursing.

Thanks: To my primary Beta/Editor CarolROI: Carol, this is entirely your fault, babe! And you know why! *EG* To my POV Beta/Editor BethB: I learned from mistakes in the past so even after Carol looked this over, I opted to send it to you.  And, finally, to my Hubby (Caellagh) who was a source of inspiration for at least one scene in this tale.

 Night Moves

Pulling up outside of the tall apartment building and parking in the designated area, Blair tried to settle his jumping nerves with a little mental mantra.  "Okay, this is okay.  You're here to study, nothing else.  Study the books, you're just here to help Stacie get ready for her exams."  Taking a deep breath, he felt his heart slow down from its nervous racing.  He sighed and used a little more time to pull his hair back into a ponytail.  "Yeah, right, you're not procrastinating here or anything, Sandburg.  This is just the first time Stacie's ever invited you to her place instead of meeting at the Caffeine Heaven."  Shaking off the strange feelings he was experiencing, he gathered up his old backpack, climbed out of the Volvo and walked into the lobby of the building. 

There were only a few people in the lobby and he made his way toward the bank of elevators and pushed the call button.   Noticing that he'd started to bounce on his toes, Blair forced himself to stop.  Damn, you're acting like an antsy teen-ager on his first date!  Cool it, man.  Just cool it.  I mean, just because the last few times you've been around Stacie you started feeling some really off-the-wall vibes, it doesn't mean she felt the same thing.  You're just a friend damnit, just a friend who is helping a fellow officer of the law to study for the advancement tests.  Nothing more, nothing less.

~*~*~

Two months ago, Blair met Stacie Harrington during what could only be called a stressful situation.  Jim had been taken hostage, along with four guards, at the Cascade Detention Center, and Stacie had been one of the Detention Center employees who'd helped him rescue the sentinel.  The horrible situation had ended with Blair putting a bullet through Jim's shoulder.  Blair had felt awful at the time, not because he'd shot and killed two men, including the ones who had been threatening Jim and Stacie, but because he'd shot his best friend.  It hadn't been the best way to start off a relationship, but it seemed to have worked for them. 

Later, at the hospital, Blair had struck up a conversation with Stacie.  It had started out as a way to keep both of them from worrying about their friends, who were in surgery, and he'd discovered that she'd been planning on taking not only the upcoming Sergeant's Exam but the Detective's test as well.  He'd offered to help her study and she had accepted his offer.  They had started meeting at the Caffeine Heaven Coffee & Tea Shoppe three times a week. 

~*~*~

But something had changed between them in the past week.  Unless he was misreading Stacie's actions, she'd begun flirting with him.  She would lean against his shoulder and breathe down his neck, or her hand would lightly touch his thigh as she tossed off-the-cuff innuendoes at him.  She did it while they were studying, and Blair had been hard-pressed to keep his mind on the books and off the enigmatic puzzle that was Stacie. 

Yanking his thoughts back to the here-and-now, he stepped into an empty elevator car as the doors opened up.  Once the doors closed, he vented aloud.  "You've GOT to get yourself together, Sandburg.  You're acting like an adolescent child with overactive hormones.  Get a grip!" 

His backpack slid off his shoulder, just as the word 'grip' left his lips -- literally giving him something to hold on to.  "Sheesh, calm down.  So there's something about Stacie that has you in knots…" 

The doors chose that moment to open up and Blair felt himself blushing as he stepped off the elevator, past two elderly women who were staring at him oddly.  "Good afternoon, ladies."  He smiled at them as he held the doors back for them to enter the car, and then collapsed against the wall when the doors closed.  "Oh great.  Now two of Stacie's neighbors are going to think you're a total nutcase.  Smooth move, Ex-Lax." 

Gathering his wits again, he started to prowl the dimly lit hallway, trying to find Stacie's apartment, but had to turn around as he realized he was going in the wrong direction. 

Finally, he stood out side of apartment 832 and raised his hand to knock on the door, pausing when he realized the door wasn't securely closed.  Sliding his backpack off, lowering it quietly to the floor while pulling his sidearm free of its holster, he called out to her as he slowly pushed the door open.  "Stacie?  Anyone home?" 

No one answered, and he moved deeper into the apartment.  The place was laid out in an open floor plan, very similar to the loft but without a second level.  The large living area was one huge, continuous mess.  Papers, books, magazines and videotapes were strewn on every available surface and the floor.  The one low coffee table in front of the couch was overturned.  The small kernel of worry in his gut turned to ice as he moved around the mess, trying not to step on anything or, more importantly, IN anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened.

"Stacie?" he called out again, hoping to get some kind of response as he moved past the clean kitchen and down the hall to his left.  Checking the first door on the right, he discovered it was a linen closet.

A second door in the hall, this one on the left, opened up to reveal a spotless white tiled bathroom.  Well, almost spotless, he thought as he moved back into the hallway, trying to push the image of the leopard print underwear he'd seen on the floor out of his mind.   Entering the last doorway in the hall revealed the bedroom, but he hadn't found Stacie or any sign of the cat he'd heard so much about, a large Russian Blue she had named Piotr. 

Holstering his weapon, he pulled out his cell phone as he took in the gorgeous colors of Stacie's bedroom.  It was decorated in what he could only call tasteful-yet-wild modern oriental.  In a corner, under a window, was what appeared to be some kind of religious shrine, complete with candles and a small brass incense burner with fragrant smoke rising from it.  He couldn't believe Stacie would leave something burning in her place of her own free will.  Shaking his head, he raised the phone as his thumb moved unerringly to the one speed-dial his hand muscles knew by rote.

Blair moved back down the hall to the living area, the earpiece of his cell trilling in his ear twice before his call was picked up.

"Ellison."

"Jim, man, I'm glad you answered."

"What's up, Chief?  Stacie finally stand you up on your little study date?"

"No… Look, I'm at her place, oh man I hope I'm wrong, but she's not here and it looks like there's been a struggle.  The place is a total disaster zone."

"What's the address?"

Hearing the concerned tone in Jim's voice, Blair rattled off the address and promised the older detective not to touch anything else in the place while waiting for backup to arrive.  Feeling something brush against his leg, Blair nearly jumped out of his skin.  A plaintive 'merrrrrrrrrrrrrrrow' caught his attention and he looked down to see a huge, green-eyed Russian Blue bumping up against him. 

Wondering where the cat had been hiding when he'd done the room-to-room search, Blair knelt on the beige carpet of the living area.  Piotr sniffed at the back of his hand and gave him a lick, then seemed to decide Blair was an okay person and gave him a welcoming bump and rub.  From his experiences with Alicia's cat, Saint Germaine, he knew Piotr had accepted him.  Blair sat down, leaning his back against the bar-like counter that separated the kitchen from the living area and letting the cat clamber up into his lap.  Hugging the gray cat close, he waited for the units to arrive, hoping things weren't as they appeared and that Stacie was okay.

Jim had been looking forward to this night for about a week.  Case files were caught up, he had the next two days off as he wasn't on call, and Alicia Andreson had returned from a trip to her company's headquarters in Austria the evening before.  He bustled around the kitchen as he put the final touches on the dinner he'd cooked for Alicia, even putting aside a small dish for the little black pest she called Sanjee. 

Jim quirked a sideways grin as he thought about Alicia's cat.  The cat was a handful and a half, and he'd yet to discover how Saint Germaine managed to find his furry way into the loft when all the windows and doors were closed tight.  Shrugging off his thoughts, he checked on the progress of the main dish he'd created, and made sure the bottle of Forest Glen's Wildfire White Merlot was breathing properly.  Satisfied everything was proceeding according to plan, he picked up the last of the silverware and walked over to the dining table to finish setting it for an intimate dinner for two.

Sandburg's standing dates with Stacie Harrington had worked out to his advantage.  He had taken special precautions to make sure this night went well.  He'd even checked with Bernice Goldwater to see what foods Alicia liked and to make sure Alicia would have the whole night free.  Then Roberto Castillo, Hallstatt Trust's local Security Chief, who'd been listening in on his conversation with Bernie, had hinted Alicia loved roses.  So Jim had stopped by his favorite florist on the way home after work and picked up a dozen white, red, and blushing pink long-stemmed beauties.  He'd arranged them in a large spray inside a clear glass vase, leaving one perfectly-formed red rose out of the mix, which he laid on the plate set at Alicia's place.

He'd just finished lighting four white candles when there was a polite knock on the loft's door.  "Just a minute!"  Jim called out as he stripped off his apron, stuffing it into a drawer in the kitchen.  He lowered the lights and then opened the door to greet his dinner partner.  "Alicia."

She was dressed semi-casually in a pressed dark green shirt, over a white lacy -- and low cut -- tank top and a pair of taupe colored Lady Dockers.  Her dark honey-blonde hair was brushed back away from her face and caught up in some sort of hairclip.  "Hmm, something smells very tantalizing, Jim."  Her soft voice was lowered to a warm contralto as she stepped into the loft and rose up on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

His arms encircled her waist as hers closed around his neck and their kiss deepened as Jim gave the door a kick to close it.  Her perfume wrapped around them in a sensual cloud of fragrance as they ended their kiss and just stood there holding each other close.  Reluctantly breaking away from Alicia's embrace, Jim smiled down at her.  "I guess that means you missed me while you were in Austria?"

A pinch on his side was only part of her answer. "Not at all, Detective Ellison."

"Maybe just a little?"  he teased her, happy to see a light blush caress her cheeks as he stepped into the kitchen to remove the rosemary chicken from the flames before it scorched.

Alicia followed him into the kitchen and once again wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her cheek against his back.  He spooned the entrée over the wild rice on the plates he'd done up just before he'd finished setting the table.  "Okay, just a little… every hour of every day."  She let go of him and moved to his side.  "Anything I can help you with, Jim?"

"Nah, unless you want to take the wine to the table?"  He nodded toward the end of the counter where the bottle stood, wrapped in a napkin so she wouldn't be able to tell what vineyard had produced it. 

"I can do that."  He put the large skillet in the sink, dished up the vegetable mix and then followed her out of the kitchen as she carried the wine to the table.

"Jim, it's lovely.  I guess this is your way of telling me you missed me as much as I missed you?"   She placed the wine bottle on the table, picking up the single red rose he'd left on her plate, inhaling its aroma while glancing impishly at him.

"Depends," he started as he pulled a chair out for her before circling around to his seat.  "If you thought of me at least once a day, sometimes more, and found yourself itching to call…  Then yeah, I guess I missed you as much as you missed me."  Picking up her wine glass from the table, he poured a small amount of the blush pink wine and handed the goblet to Alicia for her approval. 

"Only once a day?"  She sipped the liquid silk, nodded her appreciation of his wine choice, smiling faintly as he poured more for her.  "I'm not sure I thought of you that much."  Jim sat down, trying to hide his disappointment from her as he quirked an eyebrow.    "I think it was more along the lines of four or five times an hour."  He nearly spilled his wine when a bare foot inched its way up his leg under the table. "The nights were especially hard on me, Jim." 

Oh, Lord!  Give me the strength to hold back until after we've eaten.  Setting his wine goblet carefully on the table, he gestured for her to eat up.  "Where's the Gee-cat?"  If the look in her green eyes was any indication, Alicia knew he was purposely changing the subject.  "I'm only asking 'cause I saved some chicken for him…"

Her laughter, a sweet, almost tinkling sound, filled the loft.  "Oh, he's got your number, doesn't he, Jim?"

"What?"  He plastered what he hoped was his innocent expression on his face as he gestured around the room.  "Just because he has a way of sneaking in here, without my knowledge I might add, and will artlessly interrupt us at the most inopportune moments…  I just thought I'd try a little bribe to keep the fuzzy pest at bay."

Alicia smiled as she picked up her fork and started to eat.  They managed to pass the time in companionable silence, Jim watching every little move his guest made, until he nearly jumped out of his skin.  Saint Germaine had arrived and announced his royal presence by bumping and rubbing against Jim's leg.  The detective confirmed the cat's existence by glancing under the table, smiling at Alicia who'd also leaned over to look, then excused himself from the table and enticed the black feline to follow him into the kitchen.  Germaine's owner's laughter floated on the air as Jim placed the small plate of chicken, which he'd set aside for just this moment, on the floor. 

Jim's cell phone rang as he was returning to the table.  He tried not to snarl at the noise, but something must have escaped his lips, for Alicia was trying to hide a smile behind her raised wine glass.  Crossing the living area to where he'd laid the phone down earlier, he managed not to growl as he answered it just after the second ring.

"Ellison."  Jim paused long enough to identify his caller. "What's the matter, Chief?  Stacie finally stand you up on your little study date?"  Listening to the other end of the line for a few seconds, Jim found himself searching for a notepad and pen.  Alicia slid the items onto the coffee table.  Nodding his thanks to her, he asked his friend one thing, "What's the address?"  Scribbling the information down on the notebook, he assured Sandburg he'd be there.

Hanging up the cell phone, Jim turned to find Alicia blowing out the candles at the table.  "Al, I'm sorry about this…"

"No need to apologize, Jim.  I knew going into this with you was going to require patience on my part."  She stuffed the cork back in the bottle of wine then started to gather up the plates.  "You're a cop and, no matter how often you try to stay away from the office, sometimes the office finds you.  It's okay."  She crossed the floor into the kitchen and placed the plates in the sink.

He walked up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist and holding her close as he dropped a kiss on her neck.  "If it was anything else, I wouldn't leave you like this.  You know that, right?" 

"But it's Blair, and while I haven't met this Stacie he's been seeing, I doubt he'd be calling you if he didn't feel that something was seriously wrong."  She turned around in his arms, her own coming up to encircle his neck.  "Go, Jim.  I'll be waiting when you come back.  Either here or down in my place…your pick."

"Yours."  He gathered her up into yet another passionate kiss, reluctantly breaking it off after a few minutes.  "I'd better go, or Sandburg will wonder what's taking me so long."

"I'll clean up in here, and then Sanjee and I will head home."  She paused long enough to dig into her pocket as Jim pulled on his leather jacket.  "Here."  Alicia threw him a small, metallic object.  "Don't bother knocking, just come in.  Okay?"

Looking down to see what he'd caught in his hand, Jim was surprised to see she'd thrown him a house key.  "You sure about this?"

"Yes, now go."   She turned him around and practically shoved him out of his own apartment.  Shaking his head in disbelief, he trotted down the stairs, threading the new key onto his keychain while calling the dispatch center to get a unit to respond to Stacie Harrington's place.

Blair greeted the first officers to arrive at Stacie's place.  Sgt. BJ Goodman had shown up with a younger officer.  At the sergeant's bidding, Blair moved out into the hallway to avoid getting in their way.  Earlier he'd located Piotr's cat-carrier at the bottom of the linen closet, and had managed to coax the gray cat into it.  Now the two of them settled on the floor of the hall to await the sergeant's overall impression of the place or Jim's arrival, whichever came first.

"Sandburg." The voice of the senior officer pulled his attention from Piotr.  Sgt. Goodman was looking at him from the entrance of 832.  "Other than the front door and the closet where you found the victim's cat carrier, did you touch any thing?" 

He let out a chortle. "With my partner, are you kidding, BJ?"  Blair rose to his feet, stretching out his cramped legs.  "Why do you ask?"

Brigham Goodman wriggled a finger at him, indicating he should follow the sergeant back into Stacie's apartment.  "The mess is pretty much contained to the living area.  Her cordless phone is off its base and located behind the table here by the door."  Blair followed the man's pointing finger, stooping low to see the handset under the table in question, fetched up against the baseboard.  "Neither myself or Officer Mattingly found any signs of forced entry.  The overturned table, the mess and a few other things -- like Ms. Harrington's chosen career path -- indicate we need to assume the worst and get a forensic team in here to go over the place with a fine-tooth comb."

He felt the gentle weight of the sergeant's hand on his right shoulder as he allowed himself to slump.  Blair had been hoping he'd been jumping to conclusions, but the sergeant's announcement only served to reinforce the idea that Stacie had left her place against her will.  "I understand, BJ, and I may have gone around the normal rules for reporting…"

The sergeant's grip tightened on Blair's shoulder.  "Don't worry about it, Sandburg.  Ellison may have been the one to call dispatch, but you're on file as the reporting party."

Through the open door of the apartment, Blair heard the arrival bell of an elevator sound through the hall, and shortly after that the reassuring presence of Detective Lieutenant James Ellison filled the doorway.  "Jeez, I don't blame you for calling, Sandburg."

Blair didn't miss the tell-tale signs of Jim's sentinel-gifted eyes taking in the scene before him.  Ice blue orbs that were normally non-committal in displaying emotions had hardened to agate as they swept across the living area.  "Hey, Jim.  Sgt. Goodman was just telling me he'd like to call in the crime scene technicians."

"I agree."  Jim nodded curtly toward Brigham, who raised his radio to place the call as Blair moved over to where the sentinel stood.  "I need to look around the place.  Any objections, BJ?"  Blair heard the sergeant give Jim the go-ahead just as his partner started to walk down the hallway toward the back of the apartment, pulling Blair along with him. 

Jim led the way back to Stacie's bedroom.  Blair once again tried to keep his mind and eyes on the situation at hand, but it was difficult when he caught sight of a bra on the floor near the low bed, a perfect match for the panties he'd seen in the bathroom earlier.  Blair wondered if Stacie wore that type of underwear often or if tonight was to have been a special occasion.  Snapping fingers in front of his face pulled Blair back from his mental musing. 

"Blair, come on, focus here." 

"What?"

"I asked you if Stacie had said anything recently about people who she had run-ins with at the Detention Center that might be getting out of prison or the Center itself."

Running over the conversations he'd had with her about Stacie's work, Blair tried to recall anything out of the ordinary.   Shaking his head he said,  "No, nothing that I recall, anyway.  Jim, you're thinking that someone might have done this for revenge, aren't you?"

Jim shrugged.  "We have to look into everything.  Tell you what, you contact Rafe at the station, see if he can pull up her arrest records from when she was in the field, while I contact the jail and see what they have. Okay?" 

"Gotcha."  Leaving the room, heading back up the short hallway, Blair realized Jim was trying to help him distance himself from the case, but instead of feeling pushed out of the way of an investigation, he was grateful he had something to do.  The conversation in the bedroom had taken more time than Blair had expected, for he had to push past a couple of forensic technicians as he made his way out into the hallway.  Picking up his backpack and Piotr's carrier, he decided there was too much noise in the immediate vicinity and made his way over to a foyer area at the end of the main hallway of the apartment building.  A large picture window overlooked the parking area, and as he placed the call to Major Crime, he noticed something he hadn't seen before when he pulled up.  Stacie Harrington's black Dodge Durango was nowhere to be seen.  He wasn't sure what to think of it, and didn't have much time to dwell on it as his call to his division was picked up.  "Brian, Blair.  Look, I need a huge favor.  Stacie Harrington's missing and Jim's requesting access to her arrest records from when she was in the field…"

Jim moved about the apartment, searching for any clues that the crime scene investigators might overlook.  Blair had been telling him for nearly six years that he was much better than any forensic team and it had taken him that many years to fully accept the concept.  Looking over the scattered papers and other debris, he came to the conclusion something was wrong, but the exact 'what' escaped him.  Other than the obvious disarray in the living area, the two pieces of women's wear he'd spotted in the bedroom, and the spick and span bathroom, the place was quite orderly.

From the few conversations he'd had with Harrington after the incident in the Detention Center, he knew her background in the military was as regimented as his had been.  Most career Marines who were single tended to keep their places as tidy as possible.  And when he added that to her civilian background, growing up in a single parent household on Marine bases around the world, Jim expected Stacie's home to be as neat and tidy as his own.  And normally, it probably was. 

Spying the handset for the woman's cordless phone under the table near the entranceway, he had an idea.  Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, Jim placed a call to get the process started.  "Yes, this is Detective Ellison, Cascade PD.  I need the last ten phone calls placed to the following number…  Of course I have the proper clearance code."  He rattled off the number which would give him access to the phone records, and then the number for Harrington's private phone listing.  The operator assured him the records could be pulled and faxed to his office by seven in the morning, so he thanked the woman and hung up. 

One of the forensic techs, Joshua, if he was recalling the man's name correctly, waved him over to where he was dusting for prints on the door.  "Detective Ellison, I understand that I need to screen the prints I find here against Ms. Harrington and your partner, is that correct?"

"Yes.  Sandburg and Harrington's prints should be on the PD's database."

"Okay, that makes my job a little easier.  I'll just have to run the other prints I get against all known criminals and others who might have had cause to have their prints taken."

"Anything you need to do to make your job easier, Josh."

Moving away from the technician, Jim walked back into the living area and sat down on the couch.  Knowing that the forensic team had finished their tasks in his immediate area, as evidenced by the fine black dust coating nearly every surface, he started trying to straighten things up.  Gathering up the strewn papers, he glanced over the contents, and then placed them in a file folder he found under the coffee table when he lifted it back into position.  Setting the file in his lap, he sat back into the cushions and took in the furniture arrangement.  The TV with its VCR and a stereo setup was placed directly across from the couch, a natural setting for anyone sitting on the couch and watching TV.  Glancing to his right, the side table was within easy reach, as was the base for the cordless phone. 

"Jim!"

Sandburg's shout sent him to his feet, dumping the file and causing him to kick the table with his shin, which dumped the lightweight piece of furniture back onto its side again.  Turning to face his partner, Jim pushed aside the pain with a grimace.  He stared at his friend in askance.  "What is it, Chief?"

Setting down his backpack and the pet carrier, Blair came around the couch and glanced at Jim rubbing his leg  "Sorry about that.  I was talking to Rafe when I noticed something odd in the parking lot."

Sitting back down on the sofa, massaging his shin, Jim looked up at his associate.  "And what might that be, Chief?"

"Stacie's truck is missing."

Turning his thoughts away from his bruised leg to reasons why the car would be missing, Jim could only bring to mind unpleasant possibilities.  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his cell phone once more and placed another call to the Dispatch Center.  "This is Detective Ellison.  Let me speak to your supervisor.  Thanks.  Becky, I need a favor..."

Blair listened as Jim requested an APB on Stacie's vehicle.

While Jim was talking to the dispatch supervisor, he watched as the forensic team packed up and Sgt. Goodman escorted them out.  After a few words with his partner, Officer Mattingly, the sergeant approached Blair.

"Blair, don't worry too much.  Nearly all the field staff know Stacie, know she was once one of ours and those that don't recall her from her time in the field, well, they know her from the jail.  Just trust the field staff and let us do our job, okay?"

"I hear you, BJ.  Stacie and I are friends, you know?  And when a friend goes missing, especially when that friend is a fellow cop--"

"--All sorts of things go running through your head that normally wouldn't," Jim's voice interrupted before Blair could finish or before Brigham Goodman could.  "BJ, I appreciate your staff's assistance in this matter.  Harrington's a good friend and I kinda owe her for getting me out of a serious jam a few months ago."

"You got it, Jim.  Blair, we'll find Harrington, but if you want to help just try to keep us in the loop, okay?"

Blair nodded his head, appreciating Goodman's words of assurance, but he also couldn't wait for the sergeant to leave so he could start his own search.  Jim seemed to understand that need, and Blair wondered how things would go if the positions were reversed and it was Alicia who was--  "Oh man!  I totally forgot that you and Al were supposed to have dinner tonight!  I'm sooo sorry about this, Jim!"

"Don't worry about it, buddy.  We got to eat.  Just didn't quite make it to dessert when you called."  Jim closed the door to the apartment after seeing Goodman out and turned to face him.  "And Al kinda threw me out when she realized what was going on."

The sentinel gestured to the pet carrier before he knelt on the floor to pick up the papers he'd dropped when Blair had startled him.  "Why don't you let Stacie's cat out of lock-up and then we'll start cruising the neighborhood, just to see if we can find Stacie's truck. 

"Yeah, sounds like a plan."  Picking up the carrier and setting it on the floor, Blair opened the wire door and coaxed Piotr out of his den.  The cat came out, cautiously, slowly stalking Jim's foot before pouncing on the appendage with a mighty leap.  Jim jumped about a foot into the air, tripped over a chair and landed with a thud on his backside.  Piotr bristled into a huge gray ball of fluff while hissing like a possessed demon.  Blair burst out laughing.  After managing to regain control of himself, the younger man went into the kitchen to make sure Piotr had enough food and water down, then followed his disgruntled partner out of the apartment. 

The sky slowly darkened from dusky twilight to full night as Jim drove around Stacie's neighborhood in an ever-widening grid.  It wasn't the nicest of areas, for he knew of a few crack houses in the vicinity, but maybe she'd taken advantage of the HUD program that gave officers of the law a break on housing if they moved into a high crime area.  Most of the buildings were short high-rises, many having a variety of stores located on the street level and with walkup entries that lead to the apartments and offices located above. 

Blair pointed out another black SUV, the fifth in as many minutes, his voice tight.  Sandburg's more attached to Stacie than he's trying to let on, Jim thought as he dropped in behind the vehicle.  Again, it wasn't Harrington's and he slowed down, looking for another cross street, when the radio squawked out in the cab of the '69 Ford. 

"Dispatch to David 152."

Reaching across the dash, slapping Sandburg's hand away, Jim picked up the microphone while navigating out from behind the Dodge.  "David 152.  Go ahead Dispatch."

"David 152, meet unit 412 at 1483 University reference your APB."

Jim heard Blair's heart rate skyrocket as he acknowledged the request.  "Copy that, Dispatch.  Show me enroute from -- " he paused to look at a street sign, "-- Willow and Zion roads."  Flinging the microphone onto the dashboard, Jim turned down Zion Road, knowing it intersected with University in roughly eight blocks. 

"Jim, do you think the unit found Stacie's truck?"

He glanced over at his young friend and saw how Blair's facial expression was an odd mix of hope and painful dread, and tried to reassure him.  "Good chance they have, Chief.  I don't think the field officers would be calling for me if they hadn't.  Do you?"

"Nah, I just hope she's okay…"

Jim heard the wistful optimism in Blair's voice as he started the emergency lights on the truck in an effort to clear traffic from in front of him.  He used his actions as a cover and spared a moment to focus his hearing on his partner's heart once more.  The heart rate was finally slowing down from its earlier racing to a range closer to normal for the younger man when he was riding with Jim in response to a call.

"Faith, Chief.  Don't start thinking the worst until we get there, okay?"  Returning his full attention to the roadway, Jim spotted the cross street of University and used his sentinel sight to see the smaller print on the lower part of the sign that would show him which way to turn.  Slowing down to make the corner without power-sliding on the damp pavement, he took the road to the right.  He realized as he did so that if he followed the road roughly a mile, they'd eventually end up at Rainier University.  "You have any idea where 1483 is going to be, Sandburg?"

"Maybe…" Blair's voice drifted down into a whisper.  Jim let his partner think in silence as he continued to push the truck over the posted speed limit.  In spite of his encouraging words to Blair earlier, Jim wondered what Stacie's truck was doing so far from her home.  Sandburg signaled his return from his mental wanderings.  "Yeah, I think we're going to find it close to the auxiliary campus for Rainier's business management courses."

Got to keep the kid's mind working on the case and not dwelling over Stacie's possible fate.  Jim used his truck's horn to clear his way through an intersection as one car's driver decided that an older pickup couldn't possibly be a legitimate emergency vehicle.  He heard Blair's hands hit the dashboard with a thud, even picking up the sound of the plastic protesting the man's grip, as Jim fishtailed around the newer-looking Buick, then rammed his foot back down on the accelerator.  "Any idea why she might have gone there?" 

"None…  Watch it!" 

The warning came just in time for Jim to swerve and avoid hitting a fellow officer's unit as it leapt out in front of him from a side street to take the lead, its lights and sirens flashing.   "JESUS!"  Jim snarled as he dropped in behind the marked unit and once again pushed the gas pedal to the firewall.  "And you complain about MY driving?" 

A soft swish of long hair across canvas, which Jim took as Blair shaking his head vigorously, preceded his partner's response.  "Never again, Jim.  Never again, I swear!"

Filtering out the flashing blue and red emergency lights of the unit in front of him, Jim sent his sight down the street and spotted a cluster of units about twelve blocks ahead.  "Nearly there, Chief and it looks like about five other units are there ahead of us."

They continued in silence.  When they were about a block away from the cluster of units, Blair reached out to kill the emergency lights on the truck as Jim pulled toward the curb behind the unit that had cut him off earlier.  "Let's go see--"

He cut short his words as he heard the passenger side door slam before he could finish parking or turn off the truck's engine. 

"Chief…" Shaking his head, Jim followed his partner at a more sedate pace. 

Flashing his badge, Blair pushed his way through the throng of uniformed officers and curious civilian gawkers, almost running in his need to find out for himself if the black Durango he saw other officers gathering around was Stacie's.  As he approached the back end of the Dodge he noticed the red, black and gold emblem on the back glass, a United States Marine Corps sticker.  He wasn't sure, but it seemed likely the vehicle was hers.  Stopping by the front bumper of a unit parked right behind the black Dodge, Blair watched as a uniformed sergeant attempted to gain entrance to the truck through the passenger side.  That was when he noticed the odd angle the Durango was sitting at.  The front right tire had jumped the curb in the driver's haste to park in a no-parking zone.  Thoughts of what could have caused Stacie to park in such a haphazard manner skittered through Blair's mind.  What would've caused her to stop like that, if she was the driver?

He jumped half a meter into the air as a hand came down on his shoulder, just as the field sergeant let out a triumphant shout and popped open the door he'd been working on.  Turning around as he landed, Blair was surprised to see Jim hovering over him.  "Oh man, don't DO that, Jim!"

"Sorry."  Jim nodded his head toward the Dodge.  "Looks like Harrington's truck."  Jim tightened his grip on his friend, forcing Blair to look up at the sentinel.  "You gonna be able to distance yourself on this case, Chief?"

"I'm not sure, but I have to try.  Stacie's too good of a friend for me not to help out anyway I can, ya know?" Jim's answering nod and expression was one of rare compassion, which helped Blair to steady his own thoughts and feelings.

"I hear you there, Detective Sandburg."  The grip on Blair's shoulder tightened one last time before Jim gestured toward the Durango.  "You want me to scout ahead first, make sure there's nothing seriously wrong before you join in the hunt?"

Blair nodded, appreciating the concern his partner was showing for his emotional well-being.

"Right.  Give me a few minutes.  I'll signal when the coast is clear."

He watched as Jim approached the field sergeant who'd popped the door of the Dodge open and asked a few questions of the man.  Just once, just one time, I'd love to be able to hear things like Jim can…  Leaning on the hood of the unit he was standing near, Blair waited for the promised signal and kept his eyes on Jim's movements as the sentinel proceeded to look in and around Stacie's vehicle.  Officers who had responded to the call started to drift away as radio traffic picked up and calls started coming in. 

Blair lost his perch when the officers who were using the cruiser he was seated on had to leave to respond to a possible domestic.  No longer content to wait for Jim's signal, he walked over to Stacie's Dodge to have a look for himself. 

"Wondered when the waiting would get to be too much for you, Chief."

He glared at Jim, who was seated in the front passenger seat, digging through the glove compartment.  "You could've called me over sooner.  Find anything yet?"  Blair moved in close, crowding his partner's elbow as he sought a better vantage point.

"Not yet."  The sentinel pointedly closed the glove box, his nose wrinkling like he was going to sneeze.  "I found recent traces of gun oil in there, but no weapons." 

"Have you looked in the back yet?"  Blair hooked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the storage area near the tail end of the Durango.  Seeing his friend's puzzled expression, he tried to explain.  "The traces you're picking up could come from some hidden compartments Stace had built into the bed.  She doesn't often keep her rifles and other weapons in here, unless she's going to the range, but that could explain the gun oil."

Jim gestured for him to move out of his way, so Blair took the hint and walked toward the back of the SUV.  "Before you climb out, see if you can locate a release button on the dash, will ya Jim?"

The sound of Jim growling accompanied the noise of a latch being released just as Blair stepped around the back bumper and caught the tailgate before it could spring open all the way.  "Happy now, Chief?"

"Yeah, thanks."  Moving aside a large black duffel bag Blair pulled up the corner of the floor covering to reveal the partitioned cache area.  "Damn, either she moved her collection to a safe place, or someone stole it."

Jim jostled Blair's side as he joined him.  A low whistle rent the night air as Blair's friend realized how many places Stacie had for her private armory.  "Damn, I think I'm jealous.  How many weapons does a former Marine need?"

"I'm not sure.  Stace said something about her Dad having a pretty large armory of his own, so maybe that's where she keeps her collection.  Her dad's place.   I mean, I didn't run across them at her place, and the crime scene folks didn't find a weapons locker--" Blair's litany stopped as Jim lightly poked him in the ribs.

"I get the idea, Darwin.  I just hope, for her sake, that you're right.  Otherwise Harrington's going to have a lot of explaining to do to the Rat Squad if her weapons were stolen."  Jim flipped the carpet down over the cubbyholes and tossed the duffel bag back into the truck before closing the tailgate.  "Okay, no signs of a struggle.  No debris that can't be explained by an officer eating on the run while going to or from work.  And while I did pick up the oils used on the weapons back here, it's not the same as what I picked up in the glove box, but I didn't find a weapon there either."

"Damn.  I'm not liking the way this is starting to look, Jim."  Blair saw a wrecker pulling into the space in front of the Durango.  "Now what?"

"Relax, Sandburg."  Jim walked up beside him and tugged on his elbow, effectively stopping Blair before he could stalk over to the sergeant and question the man about the wrecker.  "I asked Sgt. Prescott to call for it.  I'm having Harrington's truck towed to Central precinct's garage instead of impound.  Joshua and his team will tear it apart if needed to see what they can find."

"Oh, she's going to love that.  Not!"  The last word came out as a low-pitched growl, and Blair immediately offered an apology to his friend.  "Sorry, long night and I'm worried about Stacie.  I shouldn't take it out on you."

Jim's hand snaked out to breach the distance between them, and Blair found himself on the receiving end of one of Ellison's patented hair ruffles.  "No problem, Chief.  Look, as much as I hate to admit this, we've done all we can right now.  Let's head home and wait to see what the field and forensics come up with, okay?"  The hand had dropped from Blair's head to his back as Jim tried to steer him back toward the Ford.

"No."  Blair hissed between clenched teeth as he dug his feet into the pavement and twisted away from the sentinel's guiding hand.

"No?"  Blue eyes met his, and the young detective met the glance with his own hard expression. 

"No.  I'm not going home.  I can't.  If Stacie is out here, somewhere, against her will and she manages to get away I figure one of the places she'll go to will either be the closest sub-station or her home." 

"Why are you so sure Harrington will return to her home?"

Jim was looking at him as if Blair had lost his mind.  And maybe I have.  "Call it a hunch.  Ever get one of those and can't explain to your partner why you had to go and do something seemingly illogical?"  He realized he was basically challenging Jim, calling the older man on the carpet in a way, almost daring him to deny his past actions, but Blair no longer cared if Jim thought he was out of his mind.

Jim didn't answer him immediately and Blair turned away in disgust heading toward the blue and white Ford.  He'd known the minute he threw the challenge at his partner that Jim wouldn't see his past actions the way he did.  He had to stop as a marked patrol unit went flashing by. 

The sentinel finally spoke up.  "We locked the door, sealed it as a potential crime scene so how in the heck do you intend to get back in, Darwin?"

Blair turned back to face his friend, a smile slowly threatening to break out on his face as Jim trotted to catch up to him.  He waited until they were inside of Jim's truck before giving his answer.  "Don't worry about it, just trust me, okay?" 

Jim watched as Blair smooth-talked the building manager into giving him access to Stacie Harrington's apartment.

"I really don't feel right about this, Detective Sandburg."  The manager walked down the hall in front of them, heading toward the one door on the eighth floor marked with yellow 'POLICE -- DO NOT ENTER' tape.  "I'm sure Miss Stacie wouldn't mind me letting you in, seeing as how you two have been studying together, but I was told by the police not to let anyone in here after they sealed the place up."

"And normally you'd be correct in not letting anyone into Harrington's place, Mr. Sinclair, but my partner and I were the ones to seal the place off.  See?"  Blair reached out to tap the document stapled to the door.  " 'By order of the Cascade Police Department and Detective Lieutenant James Ellison.'  And you know that Detective Ellison is the man lurking behind us in the hall."

"I'm not lurking, Sandburg."  Jim stepped up to stand beside Mr. Sinclair, pulling his police identification and commission card out of his wallet to show the manager.  "It's okay, sir.  I'm not sure why my partner thinks he needs to return here, but he's being insistent."  He reached out to pull the order down, along with the two pieces of long tape which had been criss-crossing the doorway. "And now it's legal."

"Okay, okay…" The manager unlocked the door with his master key.  "But if I hear from Miss Stacie that you messed her place up, I'll make sure she knows it was the two of you that did the messing."  He pushed the door open and stepped aside as Blair brushed by him.

Patting the worried man on the shoulder, Jim squeezed by him into the apartment.  "We won't make a mess, or least I won't, but if he does…" he pointed to his partner standing in the middle of Harrington's living room "…I'll make sure he picks up after himself."  That seemed to satisfy the manager and Jim closed the door after watching the older man walk back toward the elevators.  Turning to see Sandburg still in one place, Jim couldn't help but wonder what his friend was up to.  "Chief, what *are* you doing?"

Blair didn't open his eyes, just brought a finger up to his lips in a hushing motion.  "Thinking.  Now let me concentrate."

After standing in one place just watching his friend do whatever it was he was doing, Jim decided he would be more comfortable on Stacie's couch.  Removing his jacket, he settled down on the overstuffed cushions and started to pick up the file he'd spilled earlier.  He felt the playful pounce of a cat on his foot.  Turning his head slightly, Jim spotted the huge, gray cat that belonged to Harrington tugging on a loose shoelace.  "Hey, fur ball, not my shoe, okay?"  He reached out to pick up the feline, gently lifting the heavy cat into his lap, and proceeded to give the cat ear rubs and chin scratchies.

"Got it!"

Blair's exclamation startled Jim and Piotr.  They both to jumped, Piotr leaving claw marks in the lap he suddenly vacated.   Rubbing his clawed leg, Jim stood up and glared at his friend.  "Got what?  A case of bad timing?"

"Sorry, sorry.  Didn't mean to startle you.  I'm going to look around for a few minutes, I'll be right back.  Keep Piotr company, will ya?"  Blair headed down the hallway toward Harrington's bedroom without looking back.

Looking down at the gray cat which was happily stropping his legs, Jim wondered out loud to himself,  "Like I have a choice?   Piotr, where did your human run off to, or was she taken?"  Realizing what he'd just done, the detective groaned as he ran his hands over his face.  "Ah geez, I've been hanging around Al too long, I'm talking to a cat like I expect it to actually answer me."  Jim sat back down on the couch where he was soon joined by Piotr, and waited for Blair to return from his search.

Twenty minutes after gaining re-entry into Stacie's apartment, coming up with jack-squat, Blair stood in the middle of the living room once more facing Jim.  "Nothing.  I couldn't find anything that might tell me what happened to Stacie, and I've just about torn this place apart.  Now what do I do?"

"That's up to you, Chief."  The older detective stood up from his place on the couch, stretching lightly, and then picked up the jacket he'd laid across the back of the sofa.  "Personally, I don't see anything else for us to do, other than wait for the field staff to find her, or for Harrington to return.   Now, I seem to have left the side of someone I didn't want to bail out on, so I'm heading home."   Blair watched as his friend slung the leather jacket over his shoulder and walked toward the door.  "You going or staying?"

"Staying."  Blair walked over to the entrance, opening the door for his friend.  "I'm sorry I ruined your night with Al, but thanks for helping me out tonight, Jim."

"Hey, anything for a friend, right?"  Jim's hand reached up to ruffle Blair's hair before he stepped through the doorway, pausing to dig his keys out of his pants pocket.  "Look, I talked to dispatch before you came out of the back of the apartment and if anything is found, Stacie shows up somewhere, they get any sort of leads on where she might be or what happened, they're to get into contact with you.  Just call me before you go running off anywhere but here or toward home.  Okay, Junior?"

"Yes, 'dad' -- I hear you.  Now go see if you can salvage the rest of the evening with Al."  Blair playfully pushed Jim down the hall, the older man laughing lightly as he regained his footing and walked down to the elevators, pausing only to wave goodbye to Blair.  "Thanks again, Jim."  He waved back, waited until Jim disappeared into the elevator car, then closed the door of Stacie's place and leaned against the hardwood door.  Softly banging the back of his head against the doorjamb, he sent up a plea, "Just be safe, Stacie.  Be safe and come home, soon."

Considering the lateness of the hour, nearly 10 pm, he almost bypassed the second floor landing and went up to his place.  But the key he'd been given earlier was burning a hole in his pocket and, with one foot braced on the first of the last stairs that would take him home, Jim stopped and dug up the key.  Did she mean it?  Looking at the door of apartment 207, weighing the negligible weight of the small piece of brass in one hand and the mass of intangible possibilities in the other, one last thought went pinging around his brain.  Quit stalling, Ellison.  Either take Al up on the offer or go home to your lonely bed.

Without conscious memory of how he ended up there, Jim found himself standing in front of Alicia Andreson's door, slowly slipping the key into the lock and turning the handle.  Stepping inside, a sight he didn't expect greeted him; candlelight illuminated the apartment, the playful scent of sandalwood and rose teased his nose.  Alicia was curled up on her couch in front of a warm glowing fire, wearing a thin chemise of teal silk, her legs covered with a muted multicolored throw of some sort of Native American pattern.  The scene sent shivers up and down his spine.

"Wondered if you'd take me up on the offer, Jim."  Closing the book she was reading, she placed it on the table then reached out in invitation.  "Come here."

Closing the door behind him, Jim slipped out of his leather jacket and walked over to her.  "I wasn't sure you'd be up, but I'm glad you are."  Sliding off his shoes, he joined Alicia on the couch and gathered her into his arms.

"I decided to wait up for you.  The way you left earlier…" She shrugged in his light embrace.  "I figured you might need to wind down when you got home."  Her lips, tasting of honeyed wine and sweet spices, closed over his and he felt himself floating as he succumbed to her physical contact.  Warm hands, soft and gentle, yet firmly calloused, drifted down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, then over his shoulders.  He became aware of the warmth from the fire caressing his bare flesh.

Reluctantly breaking contact with silken skin, feeling suddenly too warm in his own hide, he freed his arms from his shirt, flinging it across the back of the sofa.   Returning his attention to her, he was a little surprised to see her holding out a large mug of steaming liquid.  "What's this?"

"Mulled wine."  Alicia pressed the mug into his hands, stopping only to drop a butterfly light kiss on the webbing between his right thumb and forefinger.  "It's a great way to relax and warm up at the same time."  She moved over on the couch, tossing the multi-colored throw which she had been using to cover her legs over onto the sofa's matching armchair as she picked up her own mug of heated wine.  "And not to put a damper on the way I want this night to go, but is everything okay with Blair?"

Sipping the warmed spirits, Jim shook his head in answer to her question.  "He's waiting over at Stacie's in hope that she comes home and nothing is seriously wrong."  Setting his mug on the low table in front of them, he turned to face her and found himself admiring the way the spaghetti thin straps of her chemise had fallen off her shoulders.

"What do you suppose happened?"  She moved from sitting beside him to standing behind him, her strong hands slowly working away tension he hadn't been aware of until she started kneading his upper back and shoulder muscles.

"I wish I could say that Harrington is just a sporadic housekeeper who forgot she was meeting with Sandburg tonight, but it doesn't seem right."  He rolled his head in appreciation of her masterful ministrations.  "Barring that, I just hope, for Blair's sake, she's okay."

"You think there's something between them, don't you?  No, don't answer that.  Let's just work on easing the awful tension from your body, okay?"

Hands flowed over his shoulder and halfway down his chest as lips slowly started to nibble on his left ear.  Her voice was a honeyed purr in the same ear.   "If you need, or want, assistance let me know.  I'm sure Hallstatt Trust International would just love to put some of HTI's resources under your skillful hands.  Or at least one of the company's employees."

Growling playfully, Jim grabbed Alicia's arms and pulled her over his shoulder and the back of the couch to land in his lap.  "Your idea of pillow talk is strange, but I have to admit, I'm very interested in one of HTI's employees at the moment."  And it was his turn to capture her lips with his own, slowly plundering the sweet and spicy depths of her mouth with his tongue as he cradled her close.  She squirmed in his lap, sending hot spears of pleasure through his groin, and his playful growling changed to a low, moaning groan.

She wriggled around in his arms so that she was straddling his legs, and let loose a moan of her own as she broke contact with his lips.  "Oh, god…  Do you know how much I want you, James Ellison?"  She smiled wickedly as she ground her hips lower into his lap and groin.  "I think you do know, either that or you forgot to remove your gun from your pocket."

Holding her tightly, he bucked up against her, the heat of her center almost scalding him through the material of his pants.  "I'm completely disarmed, and one of us is wearing too many clothes."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as Alicia once again wriggled in his lap.  "Hmm… I bet I know how to remedy that problem…" Her hands slipped between them and he felt a slight tugging on his waistband as she undid the belt, then the fly of his Dockers, and the warmth of her hands went exploring.  She sat back on his lap, her face a study in perplexion, her hands still trapped beneath his belt line.  "Jim!  Silk boxers?"

"Disappointed?"

"No…" She leaned forward to lay another kiss on him, this one on his sternum, before rocking backwards and standing up.  Holding out her hands, which he took in his own, she pulled him to his feet.  Standing on her toes, Alicia wrapped one arm around his waist while the other one helped him to rid himself of the pants.  "I was kinda hoping you were, uh, an all-natural man, but I love the feel of silk.  Don't you?"  His pants falling to the floor, she wrapped her arms about his neck and rubbed her body against his chest.

The combination of her silk chemise and her body heat was driving him crazy.  He lifted her up and she obligingly wrapped her legs around his waist while covering his face with kisses.  Stepping out of the trousers pooled around his ankles, Jim carried her toward the bedroom.  Entering the room, he laid her on her bed and started his own slow seduction.  It started with a long, deep kiss that involved their mouths fully, and then he started trailing butterfly-light kisses down from there.  Gliding over her jaw, then down her throat, tasting her as she writhed beneath him, even as his hands slowly divested her of the teal silk barely covering her body.

As she pushed the boxers down over his hips, any worries about Blair and Harrington disappeared, and Jim turned his attention to pleasuring Alicia.  

Blair wandered around the small apartment, keeping to the living area and kitchen in an attempt not to invade Stacie's privacy any more than he already had.  Piotr had acquiesced to keep him company for a while, curling up on Blair's lap as he sat fidgeting on the couch until the sheer inactivity started to weigh on his nerves and he had to do something.  Getting up from the couch, Blair gently placed the sleeping Piotr in the spot he'd vacated and meandered back into the kitchen.  Rummaging through the cabinets, he found a stainless steel teakettle, filled it, set it to boil on the stove and was digging through his backpack for his stash of teas when his cell phone rang.

Thinking the caller might be Jim with news about Stacie, or Stacie herself, he began to dig frantically into the depths of his backpack.  He finally found the trilling device in one of the outer pockets and answered.  "Sandburg."

"Detective Sandburg, this is Becky Vande from dispatch."  Blair felt the small thrill of excitement die in his heart as the woman identified herself.

"Hey, Becky.   The field staff come up with anything yet?"

"Maybe.  I went digging through the Crime Reports from the last shift and found a robbery report in which the address was the same as the location where Corporal Harrington's vehicle was found."

"A robbery report?  What was hit?"

"The Cascade Celtic Connection specialty store.  I checked with Lieutenant Davies and she's looking for the report the officer that got the call filed."

The kettle started whistling and he pulled it off the flame before talking to the dispatcher again.  "Becky, I only did a few weeks in the field, but those reports are normally filed as soon as possible so the rest of the field officers can be watching for possible suspects and suspicious activities."

"I know and that's what Lt. Davies said."  Blair could hear the ringing of a phone in the background.  "Gotta go, Sandburg.  Keep your hopes up.  I haven't lost an officer since I trained under Michelle Grenfeld.  We'll find Harrington.  Or she'll find us."

"I will, Becky.  Thanks for calling."  Disconnecting the call, he stuffed the compact cell phone into his pocket and, picking up his hot tea mug, walked back into the living room and collapsed on the couch.  Setting the cup on the low, lightweight, rattan-style coffee table, he reached out to the huge gray cat on the cushion next to him and stroked his hand along the feline's long spine.  "Everyone keeps telling me not to worry, but I can't help it, Piotr.  I feel this… I dunno…  connection to her.  I'm not sure what it means but I want to find out and I can't find out if she's gone."  The cell phone in his pocket was digging into his groin, so Blair pulled it out and placed it on the side table, disturbing the cat with his movements.

Piotr rolled over, stood up, stretched and padded over the cushions to curl up in Blair's lap, the cat's purring rumbling deep into his soul.  The sonic reverberation seemed to help him to relax better than a whole gallon of chamomile tea.  Blair sat quietly, petting the Russian Blue while leaning his head back against the couch.  The stress of worrying about Stacie, the pain of not knowing or being able to help look for her, the sound of rain slowly pattering against the windows, and being awake since five in the morning, soon took its toll on him and Blair slowly drifted off to sleep.

Leaning against the wall outside her apartment, Stacie Harrington took a moment to rest from her long, wet walk home from downtown.  A shudder ran through her body as she started to cool off from her hike and she dug into her Levi's to pull up her house keys.  Too tired to push off the support of the wall, she rolled her body the short distance toward the door and slid her key into the lock.  What the hell?  She came off the wall in a spine-snapping explosion, instantly losing her weariness as the door opened without her unlocking the deadbolt.  She *never* left her home without locking it up properly and that meant securing the deadbolt.

Checking to make sure her backup side arm was still in place, she slowly pushed open the door and took a cautious step into her apartment.  Okay, this is way out of whack, I *know* I turned the lights off when I left--

Not liking the inconstancies she was finding in her own home, Stacie reached for the phone on the table near the door.  First, report your car stolen-- No, get backup here first and then find out what was taken.  Damn thieves. She dialed the number to the CPD's dispatch center without looking at the touch pad, while her eyes roamed over her quarters, already looking for stuff that was out-of-place.

"Emergency Dispatch, what is your complaint?"

"My home has been broken into."  Thankful she had a cordless phone, she slowly prowled deeper into her own place, with her hand slowly drifting toward her Walther PPK handgun.  For some reason, she was no longer sure the apartment was empty.

"Your name and address please?"

"Stacie Harrington, 1527 Rainier Avenue apartment 852."

”Again?"

"Again?  What do you mean, again?"  She heard something move by her couch and crept up on the location.  Blair Sandburg was lying on her sofa, sound asleep and snoring slightly, with Piotr resting on his chest.  "Never mind, dispatch.  False alarm."  She hung up on the dispatcher and stood over the supine forms, wondering what had caused Blair to crash on her couch.

Kneeling in front of him, she enticed her cat from his perch on top of the detective's chest. "You know, it's funny how there's never a cop around when you need one."  She noticed her houseguest stirring in his slumber. "I mean, someone steals my truck, I end up walking home in a downpour and every phone along the way is out of order, but I arrive home to find a cop lounging on my couch.  Where were you thirty minutes ago, huh?"

His movements became more energetic and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from his face, her denim jacket dripping water on his chest as she pulled her arm back.  "Wouldn't do to get you all wet, huh?"

His blue eyes opened up, blinked a couple of times behind the wire-rimmed frames he'd forgotten to remove, then opened wide as he caught sight of her.  "Stacie!  You're all right!"    She was forced to catch him as he bounded off the sofa and pulled her into a hard embrace.  "Oh, man…  You're soaked to the skin!"

Laughing gently, she disengaged from his hold, gently pushing him until Blair was seated on the couch.  Stacie perched on the edge of the coffee table while maintaining her grasp on his hands.  "Yeah, that happens when you walk over ten blocks in the pouring rain.  What are you doing here?  Didn't you get my message?"

"What message?  Where were you, do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"You showed up here and stayed because you couldn't find me?"  Warmth started to build in her chest, slowly spiraling downward until she was no longer aware of how chilled she was.

"Yeah, even called Jim and had a crime scene team come in to go over your place with a fine-toothed comb.  What the hell happened to you?  I found your door open, your place a disaster zone and you were missing."

The warmth started to creep through the rest of her body, seeming to concentrate in her hand that he was holding.  She found herself tempted to either strangle him or pull him into a clutching embrace of her own, and the confusing emotions tore at her.  "I got a call, my aunt's store was robbed and she was being readied for transport to Cascade General.  I tried to call you before I left, but had to leave a message with McMillian.  Didn't you get it?"

"No.  But then again, I didn't see Ron before leaving the station."  His hand clenched hers tighter and she looked into his eyes, seeing something there she'd never seen before, at least not from him.  "Is your aunt okay?"

Grateful for the change in subject, Stacie pulled her hand from his, got up from her perch and walked back toward the door to hang up her jacket.  "Yeah, she'll be okay.  Responding officer was a little concerned over her complaints that her chest hurt and called the paramedics in, who in turn decided to take her in to Cas-Gen."  She pulled her sidearm out of its holster on her belt, placing it on the table near the coat rack.  She stopped when she noticed the thin film of black fingerprint powder and ran her finger across the polished surface.  "Guess the CST didn't have time to clean up their mess, huh?"

"Yeah, we kinda didn't give them a chance, just rushed them out of here so that we could get started on hunting for you."  The sound of him moving across the floor caught her attention.  She turned to see Blair had gotten off the couch and was slowly approaching her.  "You know, maybe you'd better go get out of those wet clothes before you get too sick to take your exam on Monday."

Pulling her long hair back into a loose ponytail, Stacie nodded her head.  "You're right, I need to go grab a quick shower.  Then I think we need to talk, Detective Sandburg.  Stay put, I'll be back before you know it." 

Stopping in the kitchen only long enough to kick on the coffeemaker she used to make hot tea, she hurried down the hallway to her bedroom, grabbed a few items of clean dry clothing, and then dashed into the bathroom.  In her mad dash between the kitchen and bedroom, she thought she'd heard him say something that sounded like, "Yeah, we *really* need to talk."   A plan started to form in her brain as she turned the faucet on in the shower.  I just hope Blair likes what I suddenly find myself wanting to do…

Fifteen minutes later, Blair heard the door to the bathroom open up and looked over his shoulder to see Stacie emerge.  She was wearing a satin kimono, black with golden cranes, her waist-long hair flowing loosely over her shoulders and down her back as she floated on bare feet into the kitchen.  The black and gold material barely fell halfway down her thighs, leaving much of her long legs uncovered, and he caught a glimpse of the pearl-colored skin of her thighs.  The kimono opened slightly as she breezed into the living area, carrying two cups of steaming liquid.  Stacie smiled at him as she sat down beside Blair and handed him one of the mugs.

"Here, it's chai tea.  And close your mouth, you're drooling on yourself."

He hadn't been aware of his jaw hanging open, but he closed it and, after wiping a hand across his lips, found he had been drooling.  "Sorry about that, you just…  Well, you, uh…" Blair shook his head and tried to organize his thoughts.  "You surprised me, that's all."

Stacie leaned back on the couch next to him, one leg crossing the other, exposing even more of her skin to his gaze.  She took a sip out of her mug.  "Surprised you in what way?"

"Uh… I normally don't see you in anything less than your uniform or layers of denim, flannel and tee shirts?"

She let loose with a small giggle.  "I hope not.  I just figured you wouldn't mind." 

Carefully leaning forward to place his mug of chai on the table, Blair shook his head.  "No, I don't mind, not at all."  He turned to face her, his arm reaching out to lie across the back of the couch close to Stacie's shoulders.  "So, your aunt owns a shop?" 

Stacie nodded as she sipped her tea. 

"You said something earlier about her having been transported to Cas-Gen, something about chest pains.  She gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, Auntie Eithne is a tough lady.  The pain was actually from a stress-induced asthma attack, nothing too serious."

Trying to think of proper small talk conversation topics, mostly to keep his mind off her state of undress, Blair pondered over information he had rattling around in his head.  "Stace, your aunt, she owns the Cascade Celtic Connection, doesn't she?"

"Yes."  She leaned forward to place her mug of tea on the table next to his, allowing him to see even more of her body as the robe gaped open, then turned to face him.  "Eithne is my father's eldest sister and ever since she was a small child, she's loved working on ethnic clothing.  When she married Thomas Flattley, he helped her set up the store back in 1946 and it's been open six days a week ever since.  She also has a client list from all over the world.  I should know, I help out there from time to time."

"And was it your aunt or a field officer who called you to inform you her shop had been robbed?"  

Stacie let out a small snicker. "Eithne called me, I called Dispatch.  She was so upset she actually started speaking Irish Gaelic and while I speak it, less than fluently you understand, even I had trouble understanding her brogue.  I tried reaching you, before I raced out of here to go check on her and ended up leaving a message."

He reached out to touch her on the shoulder. "You walked home from Cas-Gen, didn't you?"  His hand dropped onto the back of the couch before making contact.  He wasn't sure how she would react to his offer of comfort and decided to play it safe.

Stacie shrugged, her kimono slipping off her shoulder.  She didn't seem to notice it or that his hand was resting on the couch near her, as she filled him in.  "Yeah.  Her doctor decided to admit her for overnight observation after finding a slight fluctuation in her heart rhythm when he was examining her in the ER."

Blair stretched to brush a loose strand of hair off Stacie's exposed shoulder.  "You rode in with her to the hospital, didn't you?  That's why we found your truck abandoned at 1483 University."

She turned her head to look at him, and tugged her kimono back into place.  "Blair, maybe you'd better tell me what happened here and how you know where I'd parked my truck."

He told her everything.  How he'd not gotten her message to cancel the evening's planned study session, how he'd found her door open, and the mess that had scared him half to death.  About Jim coming over and helping him try to locate her and, finally, that her truck was safe and sound at the Central Precinct's garage.

After he was done talking, bringing her right up to the point to where he'd fallen asleep on her couch, she didn't much.  As she got up, grabbed their empty mugs and took them into the kitchen she quietly admitted to having not left the mess he'd found, that it must have slipped her mind in the rush to get to her Aunt's store and maybe Piotr had helped make the disorder.  Her movements were concise, almost minutely controlled as she puttered about in the other room.  

Turning his attention away from her Blair sank back into the couch, wondering if he'd managed to screw up his friendship with Stacie by appearing too over-protective of her.  Hands sliding over his shoulders and around his neck from behind startled him and he tilted his head back to see her leaning over him.

"So, I guess you were worried about me."  Her warm hazel eyes met his as she smiled enigmatically.

"Yeah, too much time working with Ellison and having strange shit happen, I guess.  You aren't mad at me, are you?  I mean, I'll help clean your place up…" His offer stopped dead in his mouth as she leaned over and kissed him.  Her hands slid further down his chest as her fingers slowly popped open the buttons on his shirt.  This isn't a between friends kinda kiss, oh WOW!  Their tongues tangoed with each other as she pushed his shirt open, and her fingers, playing with his chest hair, left a scorching trail of inflamed nerve endings in their wake.  The kiss was succeeding in arousing Blair.  Stacie pulled back just as her nimble fingers found his nipple ring, which sent lasers of sensual heat directly to his groin, and her lips started to tease his jaw, and neck, then pulled at his ear.  

"Do I seem mad to you?"  Her soft voice tickled his ear as she pulled his hair back and lightly nipped him on the neck.

Reaching behind, he touched her on a shoulder.  "No, not mad.  Uh, Stace, are you trying to seduce me?"  He lost contact with her as Stacie moved back around the couch to stand in front of him.

"I've been flirting with you for almost six weeks and you're just now noticing?"  Her hands started to slowly work the ties on her kimono.  "What do I have to do to show you I'm not after your friendship, Blair?"  The black and gold short robe flared open, revealing more of her body and an expanse of translucent flesh above a pair of familiar panties.  "Do I have to spell it out for you, Detective?"  The satin slipped off her shoulders and pooled on the floor at her feet, revealing more than he had ever hoped to see.

"Uh…." His brain seemed to go into overload, just as she leaned forward and then knelt on the couch, her knees on either side of his thighs as she moved closer to him.

"This is a first.  I don't think I've ever seen you without an intelligent word to say."  Her body, toned and tight in all the right places from workouts in the gym, seemed to hover over his, her perfectly formed breasts only inches from his face.  "Tell me I'm wrong, tell me I've been misreading your body language, that you're not interested in me and we'll forget this ever happened."  Her voice was a throaty, purring buzz in his ears.

"Oh, God…" His hands came up to grasp her by the waist, his fingers not quite spanning across her back as he pulled her even closer.  "You're not wrong, Stacie.  You're just right!"  He used his hands to rub her back, slowly trailing up her spine until they rested on her neck, and then pulled her down into his lap while capturing her mouth with his.

Once again their tongues tangled with each other as he drank in the taste of sweet, spicy tea that lingered on her lips.  He was barely aware when she drew him closer and slowly peeled his shirt from his arms.  This time when they broke apart, she was lightly panting as she rolled off his lap.  "So, Detective, do you want to continue our study session here on the couch or somewhere else?"

He brushed her hair away from her face.  "Would you be upset if I say let's study on the floor?" 

She shook her head as she stood up.  "Not at all.  I need to grab something from the bedroom and you have something to do as well."  She disappeared down the hall.

Blair bolted to his feet, fumbling with his belt and nearly dropping his off-duty holster onto Piotr's head.  He couldn't get the khakis over his feet and wondered why he was suddenly so inept at undressing when he realized he hadn't removed his shoes.  Sitting back down to untie the laces of his hiking boots, he managed to shuck out of his pants and socks.  Folding the pants as neatly as he could with trembling fingers, he was still perched on the couch in his underwear when Stacie returned from her bedroom.  Her expression was puzzled when Piotr ran past her, obviously trying to escape the living area and the klutzy human on the sofa, but she smiled when she looked at Blair.  

She took the time to move the rattan coffee table out of the way before laying the comforter with its black-bordered wildcat print on the floor before the couch.  Tossing her long hair back over her shoulders, Stacie looked up at him.  "So, did you cancel the APB you and your partner put out on me?"

"What?" 

Her laughter echoed through the apartment, "Oh no…  You thought I meant for you just to--?  Oh, Blair…  Call Dispatch and let them know I'm okay, before the news picks up on the story and Aunt Eithne hears it."

He scrambled to retrieve his cell phone, placed the call to cancel the All Points Bulletin on Corporal Stacie Harrington, then tossed the phone onto a side table.  "Done.  Now, where were we?"  Her answer was to pull him off the couch to sit on the floor beside her, and they picked up where they had left off. 

Wrapped in the comforter, Blair held Stacie close, her head on his shoulder.  Piotr was curled up on the couch above them, purring loudly.  "You seem happy." 

She raised her head, brushing her hair back as she stretched her body lithely and smoothly next to his.  "Oh yeah, this is exactly the type of study session I've been dying to have with you for a long time." 

"Anatomy and Physiology 101, Sandburg Style … No, you're a more advanced student than that."  He smiled as he tenderly dropped a kiss on her lips.  "Oh yeah, much more advanced."

Stacie snuggled in closer and started to trace her fingers over his chest again.  "Well, if you think so.  Personally, I think I've been a poor study and need more lessons."  Her lips followed her fingers and soon Blair was lost to the sensation of her laving his pierced nipple.  "But I love the way you react when I do this--" To emphasize her point, one of her hands started drifting down his chest toward his waist, and then slid lower still.

Reluctantly he stopped her questing hand and pulled it up to kiss the long fingers one at a time.  "Honey, as much as I'd love to continue studying with you right now, I'm not sure we should."  Her head came up and he couldn't help but notice the sad look that flitted across her face.  "It's not like that, Stacie.  I should probably call Jim and let him know you're safe and sound…  Or at least that you're home, cause I'm not sure you're safe from my intentions."

"I don't want to be safe with you, Blair," she purred as she reached past him to pull his cell phone off the table where he had placed it earlier.  Blair kissed her breast as she leaned across him.  She moaned and dropped the cell phone.  Taking her reaction to his touch as a sign, he set about proving to Stacie that he didn't want to be safe with her either.  The phone call to Jim would just have to wait.