Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Missing Scenes Collection
Summary: Not really a missing scene, but a series of drabbles written for what was *behind* the words. Spoilers for TSbyBS; some pieces of dialogue from the episode.
a series of drabbles for The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg
"....Thank you and good-bye." Blair hung up and stood by desk in shock. She emailed my thesis? My thesis? To some publisher guy? Oh, god, I'm gonna kill her. How could she? She doesn't understand! Footsteps shook him back to reality; Jim and Megan were approaching. Oh, man, Jim's gonna freak. I promised him no one else would see it before him. I promised! What am I gonna tell him?
Megan gave him a funny look. "You all right, Sandy?"
Just dandy. "Yeah, it's just my mom."
Oh, Naomi, this was so not what I had in mind for today.
The first hint Blair had that his talk with Sid had proved futile was the rush of reporters surrounding Jim's truck, plunging microphones through the open windows, demanding statements, proof, pictures. Horror and stunned disbelief at Sid's double-crossing coursed through him even as he saw Jim's walls rise.
The second hint was Jim's refusal to listen to him and his explanations. He realized at the moment he should've told Jim the night before, given him warning what might happen and dealt with it then. He didn't want a brass ring, not like this.
The third hint was Jim walking away.
Pushing away his co-workers -- not his friends right then -- Jim sat at his desk, trying to find his balance. Before he could, Blair walked into the bullpen and found himself the victim of relentless badgering. A part of Jim wanted to say "stop," but he only looked away, distancing himself. This wasn't his problem. And there wasn't anything he could do to make it go away.
"We're not worthy. We're not worthy. We're not worthy."
Giving up, Blair left moments before Simon came out of his office and demanded order. Jim didn't -- couldn't -- watch him go. It hurt too much.
Again, Simon found himself watching Jim and Blair's friendship disintegrate. Again, it was sentinel-related and highly volatile. He didn't know all the details, but Simon knew enough to understand Blair hadn't been at fault ... at least not totally.
Deep down Jim must know that, too. Sandburg's not gonna do anything to jeopardize Jim.
Jim stalked out -- alone -- to look for Zeller. Simon turned to Blair, insisting that he go.
"He doesn't want me with him."
Changing tactics, Simon responded, "I need you with him." He watched Blair leave and mentally sighed. I just hope someone doesn't have to die ... again.
Megan wanted to smack both of them. Maybe Jimbo more, though. He doesn't see -- really see -- what this is doing to Sandy. When she'd first arrived in Cascade, the two men seemed like brothers. Now they couldn't be further apart.
"Sandy didn't do this on purpose."
Neither man knew the right words. Blair was struggling to find an answer, any answer, to the problem. And Jim was just plain angry. Blair tried to stay calm, but Jim's anger burned, making him angry in return. Any attempts to set things right fizzled and popped like soap bubbles.
She mourned their loss.
It has all snowballed. Naomi's well-meaning, Sid's interference, the chancellor's cockiness, the media's intrusion. Jim's gut instinct to lash out, pushing Blair away, added heavy layers as the snowball rolled down the dangerously steep slope.
In his few quieter moments, Blair acknowledged that Jim's reaction rang true. Blair knew Jim. Knew his constant fear of betrayal, his fear of loss of self and privacy, his fear of admitting that he even had fears. He also knew that away from the pressure, Jim would calm down and listen. Listen to his words and his heart.
Unfortunately, their time had run out.
"...I just want out." There. He'd said it. No more sentinel senses. No more threats of being exposed. No more being called a freak. No more worries over a civilian partner. He wanted to be alone.
Simon seemed unsure, but accepted the decision.
The bullet struck Simon, knocking him from his feet. It tore through the wall to hit Megan, shoving her over the desk onto the floor. Then it sailed across the bullpen to impact solidly into the doorjamb.
Loud voices erupted in horror as Jim knelt over Simon.
Oh god. I saw this! This can't be happening.
Blair sat in the half-light of the windows. He yearned to be at Jim's side, but he'd come home instead to think about his dissertation. His work for the past several years. His book. His masterpiece.
His tribute to sentinels. To Jim.
If things had gone right, he and Jim would have talked. Deciding together what to do. Choosing a road. Picking their next step.
But that was lost forever. His choices had narrowed. Distilled. Solidified. Into one.
Naomi's voice sifted gently past his thoughts. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Decision made, Blair answered, "We're all going to be fine."
Blair hoped to someday look back on this day without so much pain, so much sorrow. He shuffled the notecards in his hands nervously. No need to read them; he knew the words by heart.
The shortest route between two points is a straight line. And this is the shortest route there is.
He had to get rid of the media. It had to be shocking and unexpected. It had to be fast. Zeller -- and who knew what other bad guys -- was out there, and Jim's life was at stake.
And so he chose the most direct route he knew.
Jim reluctantly entered the room and focused on the TV. Blair stood in front of a podium, talking about research and the media. What are you doing, Sandburg? This is no time for--
"My thesis 'The Sentinel' is a fraud."
Mouth dropping open, he stared, ignoring the others in the room. What? Fraudulent? Fiction? Chief, what are you doing?
The anger and feelings of betrayal melted away. He's saving me. Taking the spotlight away. Giving me back my freedom. And losing everything. This isn't... it's not... I wished you'd talked to me first. I'm sorry, Blair. For all of it.
Hearing that Simon and Megan would be okay lifted a heavy weight. Hearing that Jim had seen his press conference ... left Blair unbalanced. He tried to "pull a Jimbo" as Megan once said.
"It was just a book."
But Jim ignored that. "It was your life."
He tried again, only to have Jim surprise him, thanking him for ... everything ... in "Jim-speak," a language Blair had learned well and understood.
"...best partner ... great friend ... pulled me through..."
Pushing away his instinctual human need for contact -- they would talk later -- Blair thanked him in return. And breathed out as his world righted.
He'd rehearsed a dozen different things to say on his way over to the hospital to get Blair after finding him neither at the media-packed University nor at home with Naomi in sage-filled loft.
Seeing the lost "now what?" look on Blair's face scared away most of those words, leaving just the basics, the bare truth. What else did he truly need?
Moving past Blair's downplaying, Jim tried to say "thank you." He wanted and needed Blair to understand, to hear.
He couldn't say it.
But in Blair's eyes...
...he saw understanding of the words he didn't have to say.
Blair stood in the captain's office. It felt odd without Simon offering him coffee or glaring at him or telling him 'you are not a cop.' I'm gonna miss that.
He answered Joel's question. "I'm taking a last look around."
A last look. The words sounded so ... final. But I can't see a way to come back.
He knew declaring himself a fraud to save Jim's life meant losing his place as Jim's partner. He didn't regret his choice; Jim had been in danger from both the media and Zellar. Simon and Megan had nearly been killed.
But it hurt.
"Everybody's safe and out and happy."
To Jim's ears, Blair sounded at peace if a little sad. But when he barely reacted to Jim's comments about being finished in the department, Jim realized in dismay, he's getting ready to say goodbye. He tossed the leather wallet in a rush, contrary to the plans he and Simon had discussed.
"This is a detective badge ... I don't deserve this."
Yes, you do, Chief. Weren't you listening at the hospital?
After Simon's explanation, Jim hobbled over next to Blair. His friend ... his partner ... his *guide* met his eyes in wonderment.
Stay. Please stay.
Blair blinked. The Academy? Carry a gun? Jim's permanent official partner? After all this, you ... want me to stay?
He swallowed and tried to ask if they were sure, but all he could manage was asking about a paycheck.
And Jim smiled and laughed and shot back something about "back rent." This was the Jim he was used to, the man who chose side trails to voice his thoughts.
He wants me to stay.
"Say something, Sandy."
Eyes still fixed on Jim, Blair answered with a little Jim-speak of his own.
"I'm still not cutting my hair."
Yeah, I'll stay.
Friendship that flows from the heart cannot be frozen by adversity,
as the water that flows from the spring cannot congeal in winter.
-- James Fenimore Cooper
Everything is okay in the end.
If it's not okay, then it's not the end.