caillech2000@yahoo.com

http://www.arkwolf.com/caillechsite/index.html

Author’s Notes: This story contains corporal punishment. Be warned.

Thanks to my two hard working betas, Loopy and Spacepixell.

^^^^^

Blair vaulted up the stairs to the loft two at a time and fumbled the key a few times before inserting it right side up in the lock. Slightly out of breath from his mad dash, he shouldered the door open with a bang, carelessly depositing his backpack on the floor and made straight for the refrigerator. Eagerly anticipating his next ‘experiment’, he extracted a quart of double chocolate rocky road ice cream from one of the environmentally friendly cloth bags he insisted be used for grocery shopping, opened the freezer, and placed the ‘special’ treat in a prominent position on the nearly empty shelf. Rubbing his hands in mad-scientist fashion, he trotted off to his room, grabbed his favorite reading material and flung himself facedown on the bed to read.

The book he now had in his possession, on extended loan from the campus library, had sparked his academic imagination. He had greedily devoured the monograph by Burton, which detailed the explorer’s findings regarding tribal sentinels of South America and their heightened senses. Not only did Blair accept the explorer’s writings as plausible, he had started conducting his own research and already had found cases of people with one or two heightened senses…including Jim.

Blair remembered bits and pieces of conversations he overheard a couple of months ago when he had first met Jim. At the suggestion of Simon Banks, the detective had taken a volunteer coaching position as an alternative to seeing the department shrink. From the snatches of the conversations that he recalled, it had something to do with Jim complaining of strange experiences with his senses. But when questioned, neither Simon nor Jim had been forthcoming with any useful information with which Blair could further his theory. Which left him, of course, with no other recourse but to conduct his own covert testing on his unsuspecting foster father.

The smell and touch tests had been resounding successes…at least from Blair’s point of view. The youngster did feel bad about the sneezing fit that had lasted twenty minutes. And that nasty rash on Jim’s… Well, Blair hadn’t exactly expected that, but sometimes certain sacrifices had to be made in the name of scientific research. That was his story and he was sticking to it. Pondering the results of the first two tests, Blair absent-mindedly reached one hand back and rubbed his backside, imagining the sting he knew would become all too real in the event he was found out and Jim’s scientific goals weren’t quite as lofty as his.

^^^^^

The old blue and white pickup truck slid into its spot in front of 852 Prospect. Happy to be home, Jim slowly rotated his neck a few times and flexed his shoulder muscles. He closed his eyes and willed all the tension to drain from his body. It hadn’t been a particularly bad day for the Major Crime unit, but since Blair had come to live with him, he had made it a practice not to bring the stress of his job home with him.

Home.

He liked the sound of that word. Before Blair had taken up residence in the loft, Jim had never thought of it as home. It was just the place he returned to at the end of a long day…to eat cold takeout, watch TV, sleep. He actually looked forward to climbing the stairs now, knowing that a 155-pound ball of teenage chaotic energy would be there to share his evenings and weekends.

Little by little over the past few months, evidence that Blair had settled in manifested itself in various ways. Piles of college textbooks and old dog-eared anthropology journals were scattered around the loft. Unusual pictures, knick-knacks and hangings festooned the shelves and walls. An assortment of health foods and juices now occupied the space in the cupboards and refrigerator that used to be lined with the ‘artery clogging sure to send you to an early grave’ foods that Jim favored. In addition to Jim having an enthusiastic partner for watching sporting events, TV viewing now included documentaries and the History Channel. Strange jungle cadences and indecipherable punk lyrics competed for time on the CD player with the classic rock strains of Santana. The bathroom was usually a mess; Blair’s best attempts at having dirty clothes actually land in the hamper and mopping up after himself fell short of Jim’s military standards. And the neat, organized room under the stairs that Jim had relegated to Blair was now just shy of being declared a national disaster area.

Home.

Jim smiled as he extracted himself from the truck and trotted up the stairs. Mid August had brought a heat wave to Cascade and Jim was looking forward to kicking back with a cold beer as Blair regaled him with the latest blow-by-blow accounts of the upcoming semester at Ranier. Blair had kept himself busy over the summer with tutoring assignments, volunteer programs, helping out at the station, hour upon hour at the campus library reading about and researching a project, and attending a diverse series of lectures, museum visits and the like. Between Blair’s motto of ‘go with the flow’ and Jim’s motto of ‘cut the crap, Blair’, they had managed to come to an acceptable, comfortable living arrangement that seemed to suit them both. Other than the mooning incident at a political rally about a month ago, the overactive youngster had managed to adjust and adhere to Jim’s expectations with only minor infractions.

The big detective paused for a few moments at the landing of the second floor and leaned against the cool wall as he recalled his fruitless, fatherly attempt at making Blair offer official apologies the day after the rally. Unable to hold in his laughter at the memory, he deemed it best not to let the little scamp see him and question what was so amusing…

The first stop had been the chief of police’s office. The man began undermining all Jim’s good intentions by telling Blair that he was grateful to him! The speech had become too long and boring for the chief’s taste and he had been glad of the excuse to make a hasty exit. Pulling the boy aside conspiratorially, he began to relate an anecdote from his own teenage years and how today’s youth had no imagination at all when it came to pulling a good prank. Jim quickly pulled Blair free of the chief’s reach and steered him down the hall to the office of the mayor.

Thinking back, he chuckled as he realized he should have just cut his losses at that point.

Buoyed by the reaction to his first apology, Blair didn’t hesitate when called by the receptionist to go in to see the mayor. He waved cheerily at Jim and disappeared into the office. Fifteen minutes passed and Jim had begun to imagine the drawn out lecture to which Blair was being subjected. He cringed slightly in sympathy for his young charge, picturing him standing pitifully alone and at the mercy of one of the mayor’s tirades. With a slight shiver, Jim had recalled being in the mayor’s office himself several months earlier and on the receiving end of one of the woman’s notorious dressing-downs. Replaying that scene in his mind, Jim had started to regret sending Blair into the lion’s den alone. His mind had drifted back to the day that it had been him, and not Blair, behind the closed door. He remembered standing at attention in front of the large oak desk being chewed out by the unreasonable little tyrant. He was an ex-army ranger, covert ops specialist, and a seasoned detective…and yet he had been cowed by the vitriol the woman had spouted at him. He had squirmed in his seat as he heard the woman’s voice again in his head…maligning his detecting skills, bad-mouthing his techniques, belittling his solve rate, waving off his apology, laughing with him…

Waving off his apology? Laughing with him? Jim’s brows had furrowed in confusion.

He had looked up, noticing Blair and the mayor emerging from the office. Her Honor the Mayor had one arm draped maternally across the boy’s shoulder, laughing like a teenager at something Blair had said prior to stepping through the door.

Blair had been bouncing merrily, laughing along with the woman. "Jim! Man, guess what? The mayor thinks she might have been at the same protest rally in DC where Naomi said I might have been conceived! Can you believe it?"

Before Jim could form any type of response to that little tidbit of information, the mayor had spoken up. "Detective Ellison. I am so glad you and Blair stopped by today. Your young charge here has been bringing me up to speed on the political agenda of yesterday’s candidate. I’m grateful that I’ve had the chance to talk to Blair before I extended an official endorsement to that horse’s ass. I’m just sorry that this fine young man felt he had to resort to such drastic measures to get his point across."

Jim had interrupted after these revelations, squinting his eyes in confusion. "Let me get this straight…you…the mayor…are apologizing to Blair? For mooning you in public?"

The impertinent youth had waggled his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders as Jim grabbed him once again and steered him out of the mayor’s clutches, calling back over his shoulder as they left. "Thank you for your time, Your Honor."

There was still Simon Banks to contend with and Jim had been confident that his friend and boss would extract a sincere, heartfelt apology from Blair, thereby helping Jim to fulfill his paternal duty of instilling in the boy the inappropriateness of his action.

Jim lowered himself onto one of the steps and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, head hanging and body shaking in amusement at the memory of what awaited Blair in the bullpen of Major Crimes.

Jim had told Simon to expect them, and that had been his downfall. Tipped off by the desk sergeant when the duo had stopped to check Blair in as a visitor, the entire bullpen was prepared for their arrival.

As Jim and Blair stepped through the doorway the lights were dimmed, a hand held police high beam flashlight was shone on the far wall, mimicking the shape of a full moon and the pair was serenaded with an off key verse of ‘Shine on Harvest Moon’, followed by an equally horrendous version of ‘I See a Bad Moon Rising’.

Blair had been delighted, correctly interpreting the sappy gesture as the gang’s way of showing the youth that he was one of them. Blair had allowed himself to be jostled and kidded by the detectives, pretending to be offended, all the while laughing hysterically.

Following the songfest, there had been refreshments…non-alcoholic ‘moonshine’ and Moon Pies.

Jim had made a beeline for Simon before the instigator could retreat into the safety of his office. "Thanks a lot, Simon." Jim waved out across the bullpen. "I wanted him to take this whole thing seriously. And this is the help I get? Weren’t you the one who told me not to let him see me laughing when he pulls stunts like yesterday?"

Simon stared at Jim in mild amusement. "You’re not laughing…we are…with him…not at him Lighten up Jim. After being reamed out by the chief and the mayor I thought the boy would need this more than another chewing out."

Jim had heaved a huge exasperated sigh. "That’s not exactly what happened, Simon. The chief thought Blair’s prank wasn’t creative enough and it turns out the mayor was some type of flower child and thinks Blair’s political views are the greatest thing since sliced bread. She actually apologized to him."

Simon had nearly choked when he heard this pronouncement, biting down so hard on his cigar that he nearly bit it in two. His own shocked look soon had melted into laughter at the stunned, befuddled look on his best detective’s face. He draped an arm over Jim’s shoulder in a brotherly fashion and nodded in the direction of the impromptu festivities in the bullpen. "Jim, my friend, we’ve been had. Take my advice, one father to another. Pick your battles. You win some…you lose some. This was a minor skirmish. And by the look of things, both sides won." Simon pointed to Blair who was obviously having some difficulty sitting comfortably. "I’d say he knows his actions were unacceptable from your point of view, but he also knows that he’s got friends he can count on."

Jim had carefully weighed Simon’s words and agreed. Blair had been punished for his behavior and had made a genuine attempt at complying with Jim’s wishes to offer official apologies. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that Jim’s expectations hadn’t been met.

"Thanks, Simon. I’ll just go collect my trouble magnet and send him on his way so we can get back to work." Simon had patted Jim’s back in agreement as the detective made his way over to the small group still hovering around Blair.

"Okay, Chief. Time to break it up here so these guys can go back to making the streets safe." He had cuffed the youngster’s head affectionately and jerked his head, indicating Blair should vacate his chair.

Blair had jumped up immediately and headed for the door as the MC gang began cleaning the leftovers off Jim’s desktop. He had only gone a few steps when he turned and came back to where the group was still standing. He had cleared his throat nervously and fidgeted slightly before speaking.

"Um...thanks, guys. And, um, well…" He looked Simon in the eye. "I’d like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I know it was inappropriate and reflected badly on Jim. And I just wanted you to know…" Blair had rubbed his tender butt to emphasize his next statement. "You should have been singing ‘Blue Moon’."

Jim shook the memory from him as he stood and finished his climb to the third floor. Seeing the open door to the apartment and the backpack lying just inside, its contents partially spilling out, Jim reached for his gun as a moment of panic knifed through his heart. Stepping cautiously into the loft, he quickly surveyed the interior looking for signs of forced entry or a struggle. His voice cracked slightly as he called out. "B-Blair?"

He heard a soft thump, as if something hit the floor, then a mumbled profanity in a language that Blair liked to use because he thought Jim didn’t understand it.

Blair dragged himself out of his room as Jim replaced his gun in its holster and removed the rig from his belt. He snatched the discarded backpack from the floor and held it up, dangling it from one hand for Blair to see and pinned the boy with a stern, questioning look. "Wanna explain why the door is wide open and your pack is lying in the middle of the floor, junior?"

Blair froze in his tracks. His gaze darted from Jim’s face, to the backpack, to the open door and back to Jim. Quickly assessing the reason for Jim’s displeasure, and understanding it, Blair hung his head and worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

"I was in a hurry when I got home because I had something that I had to put in the freezer before it melted, so I didn’t pay attention to the fact that I left the door open. I’m sorry." He chanced a look up through the disarrayed curls that framed his face. Jim was still clearly upset. "Aw, come on, Jim, man? Please? Please don’t be mad. I know the door needs to be kept closed and locked. I know it’s important and I know it’s a safety thing, but I was just in a hurry and I won’t let it happen again." A nervous whine had crept into Blair’s voice.

Simon’s words replayed themselves in Jim’s mind. ‘Pick your battles.’ He walked over to the fidgeting youth and pulled him into a tight hug, planting a soft kiss on top of the curly head. He smiled as he felt the rigid figure in his embrace relax and rubbed the slender back affectionately. "I just wasn’t expecting it, kiddo. It scared me. I’m a cop…I react to a perceived threat. I know you know it’s important. Try not to let it happen again, okay?"

He felt Blair’s head nod eagerly in agreement, but the boy made no attempt to pull away. Inordinately pleased by this show of affection, Jim’s hold remained tight, allowing Blair to draw what he needed from the gesture. The sentinel cocooned his guide protectively.

^^^^^

Blair was just settling into the couch, freshly showered and ready to relax with Jim for a pleasant evening of channel surfing when it happened. He was feeling content and at home after the sudden prolonged display of affection that he and Jim had shared. It had been spurred, Blair realized, by the big guy’s alarm at thinking something might have happened to him. Which was because the door had been found unlocked and flung open. Which was because Blair had forgotten to close it when he got home. Which was because he had been in a hurry to put the cayenne pepper laced ice cream in the freezer…

Which was why Jim was now sputtering, choking and spitting a mouthful of the foul tasting concoction into the sink and bellowing at Blair.

"Blair! Get in here!" The youngster hurried into the kitchen and slid to a stop next to Jim. "There’s something wrong with this ice cream. Where did you get it? It’s got pepper in it! Hot pepper!" A fine sheen of sweat had broken out across Jim’s forehead and he was now furiously rinsing his mouth with cold water in an attempt to dispel the burning sensation.

"Pepper?" The question was asked with all the innocence that Blair could muster. "Are you sure?" The tiniest dash of pepper was all that he had used, sure that normal taste buds would never distinguish it. "Let me try some."

Before Jim could stop him, Blair had scooped a large spoonful from the container and into his mouth. He allowed it to slowly melt, no hint of the pepper finding its way to his taste buds. Making a show of crunching the nuts as the last of the ice cream vanished, Blair once again turned an innocent look to Jim. "Tastes okay to me."

Jim eyed Blair skeptically, then dug more ice cream from the container and shoveled it into his mouth. A millisecond later the earlier scene repeated itself as Jim spit the mouthful into the sink and cold water was once more used to cleanse his palate.

"Huh." Blair paused for effect, deceptively calm on the outside but bouncing excitedly on the inside. "That’s weird." There was another pause, as if Blair was considering how to proceed. "I’ll just dump it and get some fresh tomorrow…from a different store. Maybe this was a bad batch and I just can’t taste it. Best not to take any chances." Before Jim could protest, the remaining evidence had been emptied out of the container and washed down the sink. "Too bad. I know it’s your favorite. I really thought it would be a nice treat what with the heat and all."

The sentinel was aware of the slight changes in his guide’s vital signs that would one day register with unfailing accuracy the fact that the angelic looking imp was obfuscating his little butt off. For now, the untrained sentinel’s built in lie detector was overruled by Jim’s preoccupation with dispelling the fiery sensation coating the inside of his mouth.

^^^^^

Jim finished typing the last of the reports that had filled his in basket. He scanned it quickly, affixed his signature and plopped into his out basket. Raking his fingertips across his head, he scratched idly at a few spots before drawing the palms of his hands downward rubbing tiredly at his eyes. The recent hot weather had caused the crime rate to climb as heat-frayed nerves sparked a string of petty infringements of every conceivable city ordinance. All units, even Major Crimes, had been called on to contribute to the PD’s presence in the streets to help quell minor disturbances. Things had quieted down over the last two days as a cold front moved in from Canada, bringing rain and a return to seasonal temperatures.

With summer drawing to a close, Jim found himself wanting to spend more and more time with his ‘son’ before the fall semester got under way and their free time together dwindled. Classes didn’t start for a few weeks, but Blair was already in high gear… finalizing schedules…meeting with advisors…renewing friendships with returning students.

Finding out that Blair’s education was seriously lacking in one area…the kid didn’t know how to fly-fish…had prompted Jim to plan a surprise camping trip for the upcoming weekend.

He checked his watch and rubbed his hands together gleefully…fifteen minutes more and he would be out the door. His phone rang and the groan he emitted could be heard across the bullpen, causing H to send a questioning look Jim’s way.

Jim waved a half-hearted signal to H that all was well before warily reaching for the receiver. "Ellison."

The voice at the other end caused him to sigh with relief. It was Frannie O’Keefe, requesting that Jim come down to the social services office as soon as possible. Distracted by the fact that it wasn’t a call requiring him to postpone his early departure, Jim didn’t take notice of the slight hesitation in Frannie’s voice as she made her request.

Jim shut down his PC and hurried out of the bullpen, anxious to fill out whatever paperwork was required at social services and head home.

^^^^^

"What?" Jim stared uncomprehendingly at the woman seated across the desk from him. He was having trouble believing what he had just been told. A small lump was forming at the base of his throat, as he tried to keep the disbelief from showing in his eyes.

"I’m sorry, detective Ellison, I really am. From what Blair told us, I didn’t actually expect anything to turn up, but we’re required to run a routine check." Frannie steeled herself for the upcoming reaction, and repeated what she had told Jim a few minutes earlier. "The check found a living blood relative…Naomi Sandburg’s brother, Blair’s uncle."

Jim gulped, trying to dislodge the lump, but it was firmly rooted.

"He arrived today and his relationship to Blair was verified. He wants custody." Her gaze softened as she tried to gauge the detective’s reaction to the news. After observing Jim and Blair together, the reply she received didn’t surprise her.

"Well, he can’t have him." Jim’s tone started out low and calm but grew steadily in volume and conviction. "Why didn’t Blair know about him? Where was he all the years that Blair was growing up? Where was he when the kid needed him? When Naomi died and left him alone?" Jim was standing now, leaning over the desk, coming almost nose-to-nose with the petite woman. "Blair has a home now with me. And I’m not going to let some stranger, blood relative or not, waltz in and take him away."

"Detective Ellison…" Frannie’s voice started out stern and no-nonsense but quickly mellowed as she noted the genuine anguish in the blue eyes. "Jim, what we need to consider is what’s best for Blair."

"How can being handed over to a total stranger be what’s best for him?" Jim stood his ground.

Frannie didn’t back off. She pinned Jim with her best drill-sergeant, don’t use that tone of voice with me, look. "I’m not your enemy here, Jim. What I said was that he wants custody. I also said we need to do what’s best for Blair."

The tension in Jim’s stance receded a little. "Blair’s sixteen years old; what say does he get in all this?"

Frannie sighed and shook her head. "Do you really want to do that, Jim? Do you really want him to have to choose? If it comes down to a custody battle a judge would most likely ask for Blair’s feeling on the matter. He loves you; he has a home with you. But he also now has an uncle that he never knew he had. You don’t really want him to have to make that choice, do you?"

Jim felt his knees weaken slightly and he slumped back into the chair. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what his life would be like without Blair. It had only been four short months since the day that the curly-headed youngster had barreled into his life, yet Jim couldn’t remember what his life had been like before that.

Blair loved Naomi; and now a part of her life, a part of his life that he had never known was being given to him. Blair deserved the chance to get to know his uncle without Jim being a selfish jerk about it.

Jim took a deep breath and opened his eyes. A hint of defeat crept into his voice. "What do we do now?"

^^^^^

Jim had really wanted to dislike the man. He had wanted to be confronted with someone who in no way resembled Blair. He had hoped to meet a man who was a knuckle dragging moron obviously not capable of taking care of his own needs much less those of an overactive teenage boy. He had wanted to walk into the room, take one look at the man, recognize his face as belonging to one of America’s Most Wanted, and drag him out of Blair’s life.

As Jim and Frannie entered the room, the man who had been pacing nervously turned to greet them and all Jim’s illusions were shattered. There was no mistaking the man’s resemblance to Blair. The eyes, the nose, the mouth, the collar length curly hair…Jim was looking at an older version of his foster son. The man’s hair was much redder than Blair’s, like Naomi’s, and was sparsely flecked with gray. Blair had certain features not mirrored on the anxious face, no doubt due to Blair’s ambiguous paternity, but not enough to deny kinship to this man.

The man hurried over to them, a characteristic bounce in his step that made Jim smile warmly in spite of himself. Jim shook the proffered hand and hoped with all his soul that this man would be generous enough to allow Jim to still be a part of Blair’s life.

"Detective Ellison? Seth Sandburg. I’m so glad to meet you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Blair. When Ms. O’Keefe contacted me, I can’t tell you how shocked I was. To find out that Naomi’s dead, and that Blair…that I’d get to see Blair again after all these years. How is he? Where is he? When can I see him?"

The sentinel came to life, instantly gauging the sincerity of the man’s words. The sentinel grudgingly gave his approval, sensing the same inherent goodness in this man that was present in his own guide.

Jim braced himself. "It’s Jim. Blair’s fine. Before we go see him, we need to talk."

^^^^^

All families have their failings. Jim Ellison hadn’t spoken to his father in years. His brother, Stephen, with whom he had been so close as a child, was now a stranger to him. It had also been years since the brothers had last spoken and Jim honestly had no idea where Stephen was living, if he was married or not, if he had children. The reasons the Ellison family had splintered were no better or no worse than the reasons that the Sandburg family had splintered. They were just reasons.

Like Jim Ellison, Seth Sandburg had given up ever hoping to mend the split between himself and his sibling. Shortly after Blair had turned three, the rift in the Sandburg family had been torn open and Naomi had fled with her child to begin their nomadic trek through life, never looking back.

Now filled with the regrets that can only come when all hope is gone, Seth mourned the loss of his sister, the loss of years that should have been spent as family, the loss of being a part of his nephew’s life.

With Frannie’s help, the two men worked out a way that they hoped would make this latest change in Blair’s life as smooth as possible.

Seth lived in and worked out of a small town near the Washington-Oregon border. He made his living as an independent trucker; hauling routes up through Washington and parts of Canada or down along the Pacific coast to southern California, and occasionally a longer route through the southwest.

It was decided that after the initial introductions between uncle and nephew, Blair would accompany Seth on one of his routes, allowing the two about a week to get acquainted before making the permanent break from Jim’s foster care.

Arranging for Seth to follow him to 852 Prospect, bittersweet emotions plagued Jim as he made what he was sure was his last trip ‘home.’

^^^^^

The two men waited in the loft. An awkward silence descended after exchanging small talk for several minutes. Jim’s eyes kept wandering to the pile of fishing and camping gear that had been stacked near the door. Seth’s eyes surveyed the loft, easily cataloguing the signs of a teenage boy’s presence.

Things weren’t quiet for long; Blair burst through the door in his usual whirlwind manner. He deposited two large books on the dining table, dropped his backpack on the floor, walked to the refrigerator, attached a piece of paper to the door with a magnet and extracted a bottle of juice. He had been talking as he entered the loft and a continuous monologue concerning the upcoming semester had ensued.

The youngster veered into the living room and caught sight of Seth just as the man stood and turned toward him. A startled, questioning look settled over Blair’s face. Jim was at Blair’s side in an instant, laying a supportive arm across the kid’s shoulder as he hastily explained the situation and introduced Blair to his uncle.

Blair hesitated for a moment, allowing Jim’s words to register. He leaned against Jim, felt a reassuring squeeze on his upper arm, and then walked over to his uncle. The two embraced warmly.

Blair and his uncle fell into an easy camaraderie as they filled each other in on details of their lives; the thirteen years of separation seemed nonexistent. Seth began an attempt to explain Naomi’s estrangement from her family but Blair stopped him. Whatever the reasons, Blair assured him, they were in the past and that’s where they should stay.

The plans for spending the next week with his uncle were laid out for Blair. After many years of traveling Naomi Sandburg style, Blair had no difficulty preparing for a last minute departure and soon the two were ready to leave.

Blair was bouncing with unrestrained enthusiasm as Jim walked with him to Seth’s truck. The two men shook hands and a knowing look passed between them. As Seth climbed into the truck, Jim turned to his young charge.

"Be good, kiddo." Jim emphasized his point by a tap to the end of Blair’s nose and pulled the boy into a huge hug. Nothing in Jim’s body language hinted to Blair that a major change was occurring here.

As far as Blair was concerned, his home was here, with Jim. The addition of an uncle to his young life was an unexpected bonus. He’d spend a week getting to know his uncle, arrange to keep in touch, and then he would return home.

"You got it big guy. I’ll call. See you next week." The hug was returned enthusiastically and then Blair hopped into the truck.

Jim watched forlornly until the truck disappeared around the corner. He heaved a sigh and rubbed an imagined chill from his upper arms before going back into the building and trudging up the stairs to apartment #307.

^^^^^

Jim signaled the bartender to bring him another beer as he downed the remainder of the one in his other hand in one gulp. He carefully set the empty bottle in line with the six others on the table. He spent the next few moments in an exaggerated attempt at arranging the bottles so that they were an equal distance apart, labels all turned toward him at the exact same angle.

The bartender placed the new bottle on the table and made another futile attempt at removing the empties. Jim waved him away, still concentrating on the task of achieving the perfect lineup.

"I hope you’re not planning on driving anywhere, buddy." The concerned voice of the bartender failed to elicit a reaction from the stony-faced detective.

"He’s not." The calm, take-charge voice of Simon Banks cut through Jim’s self-imposed trance as the big man slid into the chair opposite Jim. "I went to the loft after I got your message. Thought I might find you here. I’m really sorry, Jim. I can see you’re not taking this well at all. How’d the kid take it?"

Jim looked up and shrugged, a half-hearted smile breaking the grim lines of his face. His speech was slightly slurred. "You know Blair…go with the fa-low." A gesture that might have represented an airplane gliding through the air accompanied Jim’s remarks. "He wuz shurprized, then he wuz shocked, then he wuz sooooo hoppy."

Simon Banks stared helplessly at his friend, unable to find the words that would help to lessen Jim’s pain. He kept quiet, deciding to allow Jim to tell him as much or as little about Blair’s meeting with his uncle as he wanted. Jim didn’t bother with any of those details.

"God, Shimon…what am I gonna do? I mish the little trubble magnet already." Jim allowed a single tear to slide down his cheek and then quickly shook himself, dispelling the somber mood. He laughed. "Did I ever tell ya bout the hashel he gave me bout draggin hiz little butt to the doctor?"

"No, you didn’t." Simon smiled warmly at Jim. His friend was feeling pretty mellow, tipsy…but not drunk. Simon had only seen Jim drunk once or twice during the time he had known him; it was not a pretty sight. "He didn’t want to go?"

"No-ooo. He did not. No way. He wuz okay bout the dentiss an tha eye doctor, but a reg-u-lar doctor? Nope." Jim blinked a few times, cleared this throat and continued…mistakenly assuming that this had cleared up his speech. "He said… Jim, ma-an, Jim, man…I hate doctors. Buncha, buncha, cracks, cacks, qua… They don’ know nuthin." Jim took a deep breath and plowed on. "But I tole him…too bad…cuz he needed a checkup cuz of tha inshurance stuff. He wuz not a hoppy camper, lemme tell ya. He sez to me…he sez hiz mom dint like weshtern medcin."

Simon was chuckling now, along with Jim. He could just picture Blair…all feisty and in Jim’s face. "So what happened?"

Jim looked at Simon, clearly surprised at the question. "Whaddya mean? He went to tha doctor, a course. An, Simon, lemme tell ya…ya shoulda been there…he did not shut up tha whooooole time. Nope. He gave tha doc a hard time bout everything." Jim smiled…a silly, lop-sided smile and pointed a finger in Simon’s general direction. "An ya know what? Tha kid wuz right about alotta shtuff, ya know? It wuz like he swallowed a medcal dicshunary or something. I don’t think tha doc wuz too impreshessed, but tha nurses loved tha kid." Jim dissolved into helpless laughter at the memory.

Slowly the laughter died out and Jim went back to staring at the empty bottles for a few minutes. He raised the new bottle to his lips, ready to take a drink; then set the bottle back on the table and pushed it away. He looked utterly miserable.

Simon took charge. He went to the bar and settled Jim’s tab, then pulled the sullen man up from the table. "Come on, Jim. Let’s get you back to the loft."

^^^^^

Blair was happy…extremely happy. He and his Uncle Seth had hit it off immediately and the two of them were having a wonderful time. Blair had insisted that the reasons for Naomi’s split from her family were not important. Seth honored the youngster’s wishes and never touched upon that subject. Instead, he filled Blair in on details of Naomi’s childhood and his own happy memories of the time before the split. Blair entertained Seth with his stories of wandering the globe with Naomi and their unconventional lifestyle.

Seth saw his kid sister’s free spirit and her loving, giving personality alive and well in the energetic, intelligent teenager. He also saw, for the first time, the enormous challenge he had taken upon himself in wanting to assume custody of Blair. Small doubts encroached upon his initial conviction that it was the right thing to do. He had made so many mistakes with Naomi; he did not want to repeat them with Blair and cause another estrangement.

Blair told Seth all about his first year at Ranier, the grants and scholarships he had worked so hard to attain, and his future plans to be an anthropologist. He beamed with pleasure at his uncle’s praise of his accomplishments. The chances that Blair would want to give all that up to come live with Seth seemed slim. And the chances that Seth would ask it of him were beginning to seem slim also.

And then there was Jim. Blair talked constantly about the detective. It was obvious the boy had developed a strong, loving bond with Jim. Seth had liked Jim immediately and for the first time realized the sacrifice that Jim would be making by giving up custody of Blair.

In a corner of his heart and at the back of his mind, the possibility arose that an alternate plan might be in order.

^^^^^

The weekend that Jim was supposed to have spent fishing and camping with Blair, instead was spent sorting, organizing and packing Blair’s things for the move to Seth’s.

Simon had towed a reluctant Jim back to the loft after the detective’s attempt to drown his misery. Simon stayed the night, and most of the next day, wanting to keep an eye on his friend and to be there for Jim if he was needed. Simon sympathized with Jim; his own relationship with Daryl was part time due to shared custody with his ex-wife. He couldn’t imagine not having at least that and he knew that Jim felt the same way about Blair as he felt about Daryl.

Simon left the loft late Saturday afternoon after receiving assurances from Jim that he could…in fact he preferred…to finish the packing on his own. After thanking Simon for being such a good friend, confirming once again that he would be all right and would be at work on Monday morning, Jim returned to his task.

He was just about finished in the kid’s room when he turned to the mess that was Blair’s bed. Shaking his head in disbelief at the sight, Jim yanked the tangled pile of blankets and sheets off the bed, sending several books to the floor and scattering a bundle of papers in all directions.

Not wanting to deal with the reality of Blair’s leaving anymore that night, Jim threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender and left the room.

After a restless night, a shower and three cups of coffee, Jim steeled himself for the task of finishing up in Blair’s room. He took the bedding down to the basement and tossed it into the washing machine. He sighed as he made a mental note to return the untouched camping gear back to storage.

Returning to Blair’s room, he retrieved the books and papers from the floor. He set the books aside and began the process of trying to reassemble the papers into some sort of order. The kid had been preparing some sort of report on the results of an experiment by the look of it. Several items, scrawled in Blair’s familiar handwriting, caught his eye. The name Jim popped out at him, along with the repeated use of ‘sentinel’ and ‘senses’.

Jim settled himself on the bed as he read further. What he read caused a flurry of reactions to race through his mind. Blair seemed to think that Jim was one of these genetically enhanced sentinels and the kid had been secretly testing his theory! The details of the experiments that had been conducted so far were outlined in the notes, including the recent peppered ice cream incident. The next thing on the kid’s agenda was a hearing test…involving a dog whistle.

Jim spoke aloud to the empty loft. "Why you little shit…"

He shook his head in amazement at the scope of Blair’s knowledge and the kid’s ability to process information. His head continued to bob back and forth as he also took in the scope of Blair’s deceit, snorting at Blair’s wry observation that sacrifices had to be made in the name of scientific research.

Jim sighed in regret as he told himself that his last official act as Blair’s foster father would be to put the boy over his knees and deliver a sound spanking. Jim hadn’t imposed a lot of rules when Blair moved in, but no lying had been at the top of the list.

The only additional sacrifice that would be made in this line of scientific research would be Blair’s ability to sit comfortably.

^^^^^

Seth and Blair spent their first two days together picking up a load from a small manufacturer in Portland and hauling it down to a distributor near San Diego. Seth cancelled the other job he had lined up for the week, calling upon one of his buddies to make the run for him.

Blair begged Seth to allow him to try driving the rig.

"Do you even have a driver’s license, Short stuff?" Seth cocked his head inquiringly at the youngster. "Much less a permit to drive one of these babies?"

Blair laughed at the nickname his uncle had chosen for him. Standing at around five foot, eight inches, Seth was just barely an inch taller than his nephew.

A characteristic teenage eye rolling preceded Blair’s answer. "The only reason I don’t have a driver’s license is because I wasn’t old enough to get a learner’s permit the last time Naomi owned a car. Once I started school at Ranier it didn’t really matter." Blair tried adding a slight whine to his voice, not above using any tactic necessary in order to get Seth to relent. "Come on, Uncle Seth…who cares? You can teach me."

"No way. Special permits are needed in addition to a regular driver’s license. The fines are pretty hefty. This is my livelihood. I’m not going to chance it." At the disappointed look bestowed on him by Blair, he added. "I tell you what. I collect cars…older cars. I fix them up, kind of a hobby. When we get to my place, how about you pick one out and we’ll see about getting you a regular license. Then, if you want, next summer we’ll get you a permit and I’ll take you along on one of my longer routes."

"Yes! Hoo-yah! That’d be great." A huge grin and a wild fist pumping action signaled Blair’s approval of this suggestion.

Blair and Seth spent the next two days re-tracing the route back up the coast at a leisurely pace, stopping periodically to visit an interesting spot or enjoy one of many spectacular views of the Pacific.

It was Wednesday morning by the time the pair made it to Seth’s place. It was a modest one-story house situated on several acres of land, well back from the main road, surrounded by pine trees. It was well kept, but nothing fancy. Several outbuildings dotted the land surrounding the house, no doubt used by Seth for his car-collecting hobby. Blair thought it was wonderful and hoped that he’d be able to spend lots of time here in the future.

The first thing on Blair’s agenda was to check in with Jim. Seth showed him where the phone was then left so that Blair could have some privacy for his call.

Jim picked up on the third ring.

"Ellison."

"Jim, man! It’s Blair. We just got to Seth’s place. It’s great…you’ll love it. I’m sure there’s lots of great fishing around here. We’ve had the best time! Seth is great. You won’t believe some of the things he’s told me about Naomi! He says I remind him a lot of her…not in a bad way or anything…"

"Whoah! Slow down, kiddo and breathe."

"Yeah…right…sorry. He’s gonna let me pick out a car…he fixes old cars as a hobby…so I can learn to drive…and next summer he thinks that I can go on one of his long routes with him…"

"Breathe."

"Right…sorry…well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m fine and that things are going great and that I really miss you, big guy…and…I know…breathe."

Jim and Blair both laughed quietly at the kid’s cheeky remark.

"Are you behaving yourself?" Jim could swear he heard Blair’s eyes rolling at that question, but the kid answered seriously.

"Yes, Jim…I’m behaving myself. I…I, well, I don’t want to mess this up, you know? I mean…I can’t believe how lucky I am."

Jim swiveled his chair away from the open area of the busy bullpen. He fortified himself by drawing a deep silent breath. "I know, kiddo, I know. Seth seems like a really great guy. Is he around? Can I talk to him?"

"Checking up on me, big guy?" Blair chuckled but didn’t give Jim a chance to answer. "Hang on…I’ll go get him. See you soon."

Jim heard Blair’s retreating footsteps, the squeak of a door being pushed opened, and Blair’s voice calling out for his uncle. When Seth arrived, Jim listened as Blair told him that Jim wanted to talk to him. He grinned as he heard Blair’s excited whoop when Seth told him to go have a look at the cars and pick one out.

His conversation with Seth left Jim perplexed. He had expected a brief, cordial exchange of information regarding Blair’s acceptance of things and a verification of the time of the pair’s return to Cascade.

Instead, Seth had asked him a long stream of questions about an odd mixture of things…how Jim and Blair met, what their daily lives and schedules were like, what kind of rules had Jim imposed, how well did Blair like Cascade and Ranier…

In the end, Jim chalked it up to Seth preparing himself for the daunting task of being a father to Blair. Reminding himself that what was best for Blair was the important thing, Jim answered all Seth’s questions and offered to do whatever else he could to help out.

As he hung up the phone, Jim felt his part in Blair’s life slipping further away.

^^^^^

Seth walked out his front door and down the gravel path toward his ‘play yard’. He leaned against a solitary old willow tree as he watched Blair roam among the cars. He laughed as he recognized the characteristic bounce that signified the kid’s excitement…Naomi used to tease him unmercifully for possessing that same trait.

His conversation with Jim had answered some important questions that had been nagging at his brain for the past couple of days. That the detective loved his nephew was plain for anyone to see. And Blair was easy to love, as he had come to know during their brief time together. But it took more than love to raise a kid; it hadn’t been enough when the task of raising a kid sister had fallen to him after Blair’s grandparents had died.

After talking with Jim, Seth was sure that Jim knew what it took and was doing it well.

He nodded his head in agreement with Blair’s choice of cars as he noticed that the kid kept returning to the Corvair that was one of Seth’s favorites.

Seth was sure in his heart that he needed to do what was best for Blair, even if it meant that he wasn’t it.

Blair was waving him over now, one arm madly signaling Seth to hurry over, the other pointing excitedly at the Corvair, the wild mass of curls nodding that a choice had been made.

Loud shouts of ‘Uncle Seth!’ now joined Blair’s animated gesturing.

With a bounce in his step, Seth trotted over to Blair, ready to spoil his nephew by handing over the keys to the little pale green classic.

^^^^^

Sometimes, miscommunication is raised to the level of an art form.

Seth’s plan had been to talk to Blair regarding the boy’s feelings about who he should live with. Blair was very smart; Seth was sure he had figured out for himself that a relative would be given custody over a foster parent in a case such as his. Surely the boy had seen that the past five days with Seth had been a prelude to Blair coming to live with him. Blair seemed to be sending mixed signals; he talked incessantly about Jim and his life in Cascade, yet gave no indication that he didn’t want to come live with Seth.

Seth’s plan was simple. He’d have a heart to heart talk with Blair. They would discuss the pros and cons of which living arrangement would be best for the boy.

But in true Sandburg fashion, things didn’t exactly go according to plan.

Blair was very smart; he was also a sixteen-year-old boy. As far he was concerned, Jim was his dad, albeit a foster dad, and the idea of his being in anybody else’s custody never occurred to him. The past five days with Seth had been a fun filled caper that had given him the chance to get to know the loving, interesting uncle who was now part of his life. After all, no one, including Jim, had said anything about a change in living arrangements.

The heart to heart talk turned into a fiasco. Seth started the conversation based on his mistaken assumption that Blair knew the plan would be for him to move in with Seth. His intent was to present Blair with choices and make comparisons.

"Short stuff, we need to talk about you moving down here with me. I know we’re not near a big city like Cascade, but we’re not in the middle of nowhere, either. There’s a couple of good colleges within 20 miles and…"

The buzzing that had started in Blair’s head drowned the rest of Seth’s sentence out. He had to have heard wrong. He wasn’t coming to live with Seth. He pushed the low droning aside as he tried to make sense of what Seth was saying.

"We’d make sure that your credits all transfer, of course…" Blair felt butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t going to transfer from Ranier. He’d worked too hard to get there.

"I’d try my best to be a good dad, I…" That did it. The butterflies turned to acid and boiled up out of Blair’s mouth.

"You’re not my dad! I have a dad. I don’t need another dad! I don’t need you to be my dad! I need you to be my uncle!" Tears had pooled in Blair’s eyes; one or two leaked out and ran down his cheek. The youngster was shaking with a mixture of hurt and confusion as he wiped the tiny rivulets off his cheek. Before Seth could say anything, Blair turned and ran up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door furiously.

Seth raced after Blair and knocked anxiously on the closed door. "Blair, please…let me in. Let me explain."

"Go away." The mumbled plea pulled at Seth’s heart. He rested his forehead against the door and berated himself for botching things up. Here he was in the same position he had been thirteen years ago. It had been Naomi, that night, crying behind the closed door. He had barged in, against her wishes, and made things worse. The next morning she and Blair had left.

Determined not to make the same mistake, Seth spoke softly. "All right, Blair. We’ll talk more in the morning. Good night. Love you, Short stuff." Seth dragged himself down the stairs and out into the quiet night. He stared up at the starlit sky, hoping for some sort of sign to tell him what to do.

^^^^^

Simon pounded wearily on the door. "Come on, Jim. Let me in." The door cracked open only a fraction; the chain stopped further movement. The exasperated face of Jim Ellison peered out.

"Go away, Simon."

"Can’t do that." Simon held up a pizza and smiled benevolently at his friend. "Pizza’s getting cold."

Somewhat reluctantly, Jim gave in, opened the door, and waved Simon in.

"How long are you going to baby-sit me?" Jim cocked an eyebrow as he retrieved two beers from the fridge.

"Gee, and I thought I was being a friend." Simon accepted the beer that was thrust into his hand. "I’m guessing the call this morning was from the kid?"

"What call?"

"Oh, the one that caused you to turn as surly as hell and scare the poor doughnut girl half to death. We’ll be lucky if she comes back. Some of us need the sugar fix, Jim." Simon snorted and took a sip of his drink.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, sir." Jim started picking at the edge of the pizza, removing small bits of cheese and pepperoni and popping them into his mouth.

Jim leaned back in his chair and took a gulp of the beer. "Damn, Simon, I didn’t think it would be this hard. He sounded so happy. And that should make me happy, shouldn’t it?"

"Aw, hell, Jim…how should I know? It sure doesn’t make me happy when Daryl calls, telling me about something terrific that is going on in his life, and I’m not there to share it."

Jim sighed and laughed half-heartedly. "Christ, aren’t we a pair? Grown men reduced to sniveling idiots thanks to two lovable little squirts."

Simon laughed out loud at the remark and held his bottle toward Jim, toasting the other man. "Damn straight. To lovable little squirts everywhere!"

^^^^^

Blair checked the contents of his wallet and was relieved to see a twenty and a ten. Cascade was only three hours away at most. He had more than enough gas money. The Corvair ran like a charm. He and Seth had test driven it for two hours yesterday afternoon. Seth had stated that it still needed some work, but nothing major. Blair had not been allowed to drive on any public roads, but Seth did let him take it for a spin around the yard.

Blair silently descended the stairs. It was still dark outside. The clock on the stove read 6:15 am. He grabbed a bottle of juice and placed the note he had written in the middle of the kitchen table, propped up against the napkin holder. He moved toward the back door and scanned the rack of keys hanging on the wall. Finding the key for the Corvair, he snatched it off the hook.

He took a long, sad look around the house; if and when he returned he was sure it would be against his will. He hadn’t wanted to chance calling Jim. He needed to see Jim in person, to have Jim assure him that Seth’s nefarious plan was a big mistake.

He needed Jim.

^^^^^

Jim groaned and rolled over, toward the sound of the incessant ringing. He turned on the bedside light and groaned more loudly as he noted the time. He picked up the phone and mustered a cordial response…or at least, an audible response. "Yeah?"

"Jim? Blair’s gone." Seth’s voice, slightly panicked, cut through Jim’s sleep-fogged brain.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Jim was fully awake now and jerked himself upright in bed.

"I tried talking to him last night about…things…and well, it didn’t go well. He was really upset and shut himself in his room. It was too much like what happened with Naomi. I didn’t want to push it, so I left him alone. I swear, Jim, I had no idea he’d take off."

"Wait…you’re trying to tell me that Blair ran away from home?" Jim tried to stay calm.

Seth didn’t answer for a moment. Then a shaky voice said, "No, Jim. I’m telling you that Blair is running to home. He left a note telling me…telling me he loved me, but that his home was with you. You’ve got to believe me, Jim. I was only trying to give him some options. He must have misunderstood everything. I had already come to the conclusion that he’d be better off with you. But I wanted to talk it over with him. God, I’m an idiot. He probably hates me."

Jim resisted the urge to say, "breathe" to the man on the other end of the line. Apparently being a motor mouth was an inherited trait. Then Seth’s words sunk in.

"You think he’s coming here? How would he get here?" Jim was starting to get more than just a little worried. It was early morning. He wasn’t sure how much money Blair had or where the nearest bus station was.

"He took the car I gave him."

"Blair doesn’t have a driver’s license."

"I know."

"Lord, wait till I get my hands on him. He might change his mind about where he wants to call home." Jim chuckled.

"I doubt it. He made it pretty clear to me, Jim. He’s okay with me being Uncle Seth…but he considers you his parent. And…I’m fine with that, you know? Listen…" Seth’s voice was relaxed now. "Call me and let me know when he gets there…and that he’s all right. I’ll let you two get re-settled, and then I’ll come up there tomorrow. We can get all the paperwork straightened out. I’d like you to be made Blair’s legal guardian. I think you’re past the foster parent stage here, Jim."

Jim was smiling…a broad sappy smile, his eyes crinkling in amusement. The heavy weight that had taken up residence in his heart the past few days was now gone.

"You sure? Because you’re not going to get any argument from me." Jim held his breath.

"I’m very sure, Jim. I’m happy to be part of Blair’s life again. Being Uncle Seth suits me just fine. I’ll spoil him then send him home. Works for me."

Jim was sure that there couldn’t possibly be a happier man in the city of Cascade at that moment…maybe all of Washington State. "Works for me, too."

Seth spent the next fifteen minutes bringing Jim up to speed on everything that had happened between him and Blair…the road trip, the car, Seth’s change of mind regarding custody of Blair and the reasons for it… and the misunderstanding that had ensued when he’d tried to explain things to Blair.

^^^^^

Jim had taken up his surveillance of the front door from his post on the far end of the couch. It had been several hours since Seth had called and Jim was hovering between worry and outright panic. What if Blair had been in an accident? Or caused an accident? What if he had been pulled over for speeding or reckless driving? What if he had stopped somewhere for directions or food and had been abducted or robbed? What if the kid was lying in a ditch somewhere…?

Just as Jim was sure he had hit upon every worse case scenario imaginable, and was ready to call out the National Guard, the front door opened and a very contrite looking Blair stepped into the loft.

A shy, nervous wave and tentative smile greeted Jim. "H-hi, Jim. Um, I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here, huh?"

"No…I’ve been expecting you. Seth called." The words were ground out and Blair was pinned with the look that he knew meant good things were not going to happen.

Jim stood and walked slowly toward the young miscreant. Blair warily scanned the loft, looking anywhere but at Jim, not wanting to see the disappointment on the older man’s face. Blair was still standing right next to the door; he could easily have made a break for it. But he didn’t. He had had plenty of time on the drive to Cascade to think over all that had happened. He realized that his actions might be viewed as hasty, reckless, inconsiderate, and stupid…but still he made his choice…to come home. He stood his ground.

As Jim approached, the sentinel immediately scanned the boy’s vital signs. Satisfied that the racing heartbeat was due only to the boy’s trepidation at what was going to happen, the sentinel allowed the parent to take over.

To Blair’s surprise, Jim pulled him into a rib-crushing hug, and began running warm hands up and down the boy’s back, as if to confirm that he was truly there and all right. Jim tucked the curly head under his chin and placed a kiss on the top of Blair’s head.

Blair returned the hug and relaxed into Jim’s embrace. "Jim, I…"

Before anything else could be uttered, Jim pushed out of the embrace and held Blair at arm’s length, giving the kid a slight shake as he did so. "What the hell were you thinking, Blair? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? How worried Seth is? Do you have idea how dangerous it was for you to be driving without a license…without any kind of driver’s training?"

All the questions were rhetorical; Jim didn’t wait for or expect any kind of answers.

The next thing Blair knew, he was over Jim’s knees. He began a frantic wiggling as he felt his jeans and boxers pulled down below the crease where thighs and buttocks met.

Jim wasted no time; hard rapid spanks began raining down on Blair’s butt. In very short order, the small white backside was a rosy pink.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Ouch! Ow! OWWW!! Jim!"

Smack…smack…smack…smack…smack.

"Aughh! Owww!"

The spanking continued as Jim asked Blair to offer some sort of explanation for his present position.

"Wanna tell me why you’re over my knee, Chief?"

Smack…smack…smack…smack…smack.

"Because I left Seth’s without telling anyone. Ow! It was stupid! OUCH! And dangerous!"

Smack…smack…smack…smack…smack…smack.

"What else?"

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Owwww! Because I was driving…ouch! Without…ouch! A license! Owww!"

The pain of the searing swats peppering his defenseless butt, added to Blair’s heartfelt regret at causing worry to the two men in his life who he most wanted to not disappoint, were his undoing.

Hiccupped apologies combined with sobbing and crying. "I-I’m sorry! I <hic> won’t ever <hic> do anything <hic> so stupid again!"

Jim made the last ten swats count as he landed them hard and fast to the center of the red bottom.

Jim pulled Blair’s jeans and boxers back up over the chastised butt, not bothering to re-fasten the buttons. He quickly pulled Blair up and set him on his lap, now offering soothing nonsense words in place of the harsh wallops that had just been delivered.

"Shhh, kiddo. Shhh. Take it easy. It’s over."

Blair hung on to Jim, not caring that he was crying like a baby. Despite the throb in his posterior, or perhaps because of it, he knew he was where he belonged.

He noticed, for the first time since stepping into the loft, that the place looked different. There were boxes piled by the door to his room and his books and journals were nowhere to be seen. A sliver of fear ran through the youngster. Despite returning home, the reality was that he might not be allowed to stay.

"J-Jim? What’s gonna happen to me? To us?" The shaky young voice was slightly muffled; Blair had buried his head in the fabric of Jim’s shirt.

Jim patiently explained everything to Blair…the purpose of the trip with Seth, the hard decision Jim had made not to contest Seth’s custodial rights and what Seth had been trying to explain to Blair the night before.

At the realization that his home would remain here with Jim, Blair quietly sobbed with relief.

"Shhh…we’re going to be just fine, kiddo."

A tear stained face looked up at Jim through tangled curls. "God, Jim, I’m so sorry. I guess I could have handled things a lot better, huh?"

"Well, kiddo, you’ll have plenty of time to think about it and how you should have handled things. You’re grounded. Two weeks…we’ll discuss the details of what that entails later. And that car you were so anxious to drive? Once you get your license, you’ll still be hoofing it for a while…no car for a month."

Blair stared at Jim, his mouth wordlessly mouthing a silent protest to the additional punishments.

Jim stood, pulling Blair to his feet with him. He spun the kid toward the kitchen and gave him a slight shove and a swat to the already tender butt. "Deal with it, Chief. Now, Seth is expecting a call from you. His number is by the phone."

Rubbing his tender butt with both hands as he walked to the kitchen, Blair smiled in spite of the stinging and in spite of the grounding.

He was home.

Now the car…that was another matter…

^^^^^

Within thirty seconds of placing the call to Seth, Blair was laughing and joking with his uncle. Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head as Blair shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what did you expect?’ manner. Jim pinned the kid with a look that stated ‘I expected Seth to at least ream your little butt out’. Apparently Uncle Seth had fallen prey to the little runt’s charms. Jim was beginning to think that he was the only one immune to Blair’s innocent charisma.

After finalizing plans for Seth to join them in the morning, Jim and Blair set about the task of unpacking Blair’s things and returning the loft to its proper homey look. Jim took the day off, as well as the next in order to spend the day with Seth and Blair and get started on whatever paperwork would be required to have Jim appointed legal guardian.

As Blair was replacing some CD’s in the rack on the shelf by the TV, he noticed all the camping and fishing gear. "Hey Jim? What’s all this? You going somewhere?"

Jim stopped what he was doing and looked over to where Blair was pointing. "I had planned a camping trip for us last weekend. I was going to surprise you, take you fishing. But then, well, things got a little sidetracked."

"Camping? That is so cool. Are we going to go this weekend instead?" Blair was clearly excited by the prospect.

"Fraid not, kiddo. You’re grounded…remember? You can help me haul all this back to the basement."

"What? You’re kidding, right? You weren’t really serious about grounding me? I’ve never been grounded." A look of total disbelief fell across Blair’s face.

"Do I look like I’m kidding?" A look of solid determination fell across Jim’s face.

No, he did not look like he was kidding.

"Awww, man. What the hell am I supposed to do for two weeks?" A tiny whine had crept into Blair’s voice.

"Watch your mouth, junior. Consider it a new experience. Go with the flow."

Jim was grinning now and Blair couldn’t help but laugh.

"Go with the flow, Jim? Did you say go with the flow? That is sooo not right."

By the time they had hauled the last of the gear to the storage area and returned to the loft, it was late afternoon. Simon Banks appeared a short time later, bringing Chinese takeout.

The big captain seemed very pleased to see Blair and said hello by drawing the youngster into a hug, which was followed immediately by a hard solid swat to the unsuspecting boy’s still tender rump.

"Yeouch! What was that for?" Blair jumped back and rubbed at the sting, his eyes watering from the force of the blow.

"Jim filled me in on your little adventure this morning. Driving without a license! You’re lucky all I gave you was one swat, boy." Simon was in full-blown lecture mode now. "Do you have any idea what a stunt like that does to a parent?" Blair slowly backed away, until his sore butt bumped up against the center post. Simon matched him step for step and was now nose to nose with Blair. "It was a dangerous, stupid, reckless thing to do. And if you ever…ever…pull something like that again, I’ll be standing in line right behind Jim with my hairbrush, and you’ll have to answer to me, too."

Blair gulped. His cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, he squeaked out an apology.

"Sorry, Captain Banks."

Jim had watched the entire exchange from the kitchen, where he had started pulling out plates and silverware. He smiled. It looked like he wasn’t the only one immune to the kid’s innocent charm after all.

^^^^^

After Seth’s arrival the next day…and more heartfelt apologies and assurances of good behavior from Blair…the arrangements were made to get the legal guardianship paperwork started. The process would take a little longer than was hoped, but all parties wanted to be sure that everything would be done properly.

Jim eased Blair’s grounding ‘just this once’ so that Seth and Blair could spend a little more time together. A schedule was worked out so that Blair could visit Seth on a regular basis; when and where to spend holidays would be worked out later.

With farewells of hugs, promises to call, and eager waves, Seth drove off, leaving Jim and Blair to start their redefined lives together.

^^^^^

Blair adjusted to the concept of being grounded and served out his sentence with few complaints.

The guardianship papers were finalized within a week of being filed. A party was held at the loft to celebrate. Blair proudly introduced his uncle to everyone. Family pictures were taken to commemorate the occasion. Jim eased Blair’s grounding ‘just this once’…again… so that the youngster could join in the festivities and spend time with Seth.

Ownership papers and keys for the Corvair were officially presented to Blair and promptly confiscated by Jim, much to Blair’s chagrin. Jim could almost see the wheels in the boy’s head turning, already plotting how he would talk Jim into relenting on the no car for a month punishment.

Summer faded away into the early beginnings of autumn as Blair’s college schedule resumed.

The crime rate in Cascade went through its normal ups and downs, keeping Jim and Major Crimes busy.

Things were going along quite nicely. Until…

"You looking for this?" Jim was leaned up against the doorframe of Blair’s room, holding the silver dog whistle in his right hand. He had known that sooner or later the boy would resume his covert testing. Hearing the kid rummaging madly through his room, amid mumbling and grumbling about where he could have placed ‘it’, Jim correctly guessed that today was the day.

Blair was on his hands and knees, his upper torso hidden from view beneath the bed, his backside sticking up and out, wiggling frantically, as he poked through the large assortment of odds and ends that had taken up residence under the bed.

Such an easy target.

"Ouch!" Startled by the sound of Jim’s voice, Blair had jerked up, hitting his head soundly on the underside of the bed. He continued his quest, not bothering to extract himself from his precarious position, unaware of what Jim had in his possession.

A nonchalant answer drifted out from the debris field. "Looking for what, Jim? I’m not looking for anything."

"Uh-huh…right." In three long strides, Jim was at the bed’s side. He sat on the edge, swinging his right leg up and over the small butt, which was now positioned nicely between Jim’s legs.

Jim dangled the whistle near the floor, allowing the jingling of the chain it was suspended from to attract Blair’s attention.

Resting on his forearms, Blair tilted his head sideways and peeked out through the tangle of curls. "Shit!" He attempted to slide out from under the bed, but Jim had anticipated the move and had leaned forward, wrapping his left arm securely around Blair’s waist, pinning him in place.

Six hard swats landed rapidly on Blair’s butt. "There was some pretty interesting reading material to go with this little item." Blair tried in vain to wiggle free, but there was nowhere to go.

Six more swats landed. "You lied to me."

Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat.

"Ow! Owwww! I can explain, Jim! Owww!"

Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. "You used me as a guinea pig to test your wild theory."

"Aughhhh! Owww! Please…Ow! Stop! I’m sorry! Let me…owwww…explain!"

SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT.

Six extremely hard spanks unerringly found their mark and Jim released his captive.

Blair quickly scooted out from under the bed and jumped to his feet, hopping wildly as his hands immediately went to his backside. This did nothing to lessen the sting, so Blair put his hands to better use, waving them madly about as he tried to justify his scientific research to one very pissed off test subject.

"I was gonna tell you, Jim, man…I swear. I just needed a little evidence to, you know, to convince you. I’ve been reading and studying this sentinel stuff all summer, and I’m telling you, man, you could be the real thing."

A steely voice brought Blair’s defense of his actions to a halt.

"Cut the crap, Blair. Is that supposed to make what you did all right?"

Blair hung his head. His head ached, his butt really hurt, and Jim was mad. He wrapped his arms around himself, a deep pitiful sigh escaped his lips, and he began to cry.

Jim may have been immune to the kid’s beguiling charms and obfuscations, but he was not immune to his distress. He got up from the bed and pulled the boy into a hug, rocking slowly back and forth.

Blair threw his arms around Jim’s waist and held on tightly as he cried out his regret.

"I’m sorry that I lied to you Jim. And I’m sorry that I went behind your back to test my theory. But I’m not sorry I did it. I’m not! I know you’re a sentinel! You are! You’re special, Jim."

Jim held Blair a little tighter for a few minutes; he rocked the small, trembling figure gently and offered reassurances. "Shhh, kiddo, it’s all right." He relaxed his hold, cupped Blair’s chin and tilted his face up. "All right, Chief. If it means that much to you, I’ll let you tell me all about this sentinel stuff and maybe run a few tests." A smile lit Blair’s face. "But…no more lies, understood?"

"You got it, big guy."

Jim kissed the top of Blair’s head and released his excited young charge. Blair promptly set about scouring his room for his notes, alternately rubbing his tender butt and hissing as the action re-ignited the sting.

As Jim turned to leave, he heard Blair’s exclamation. "Ha! Yes! Got it!" Jim looked back into the room and groaned as Blair held up the dog whistle for him to see, his eyebrows waggling comically.

The sentinel came to life.

End.