DOWN MEMORY LANE part 1

PART 2    

"Chief," Jim gentle shook the sleeping man. "You need to wake up and take your medicine."

"Umm," was the muffled response as the slight figure burrowed deeper into the blankets.

By the time they had reached the loft, the medication had kicked in and Jim had to practically carry the younger man up the stairs. Blair had looked around the loft and his room with blurry eyes before collapsing onto the futon bed, asleep almost before his head touched the pillow.

Jim had patiently removed his partner's shoes and socks and had managed to remove Blair's shirt, choosing to leave him in his jeans and a T-shirt.

"Come on, sleepyhead," Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. "Wake up."

One hand made its way out from beneath the blankets, pulling them down to reveal two blue eyes blinking sleepily at him. "I'm tired. Go away," the sleep hoarse voice declared.

"I know, but Dr. Bryce said this medicine had to be taken on time," Jim held up the bottle of pills and shook them. "Now, come on and sit up." He put the bottle on the nightstand and reached out to help the younger man sit up.

"It's not time yet," Blair protested.

"Yes, it is," Jim replied.

When Blair was sitting up in the bed, Jim took the bottle and shook the medication into Blair's hand, then handed him the glass of water that he had brought.

"How long have I been asleep?" Blair asked after he had swallowed the pill.

"Going on five hours now," Jim took the empty glass and put it back on the table. "How are you feeling now?"

"Still tired."

"How's the headache?" Jim reached up to move unruly curls from his partner's face.

"Not as bad as it was," Blair said as he looked around the room with interest. "This is my room?"

"Yes, it is," Jim nodded. "You getting hungry?"

"Not really," Blair shook his head.

"Wrong answer, Chief," Jim said. "It is going on eight o'clock and you haven't had anything but that bottle of juice since this morning."

Blair had been nervous about returning home and had not touched the lunch that the hospital had furnished. Jim had not pushed it, as he was anxious to get his friend home.

"Jim?" Blair turned his eyes toward Jim.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you call me that?" Blair gazed up at him.

"What?"

"Chief.....why do you call me Chief?"

"It's a long story," Jim said, not sure where to begin.

"Please, tell me," the gaze turned pleading.

Jim sighed when he saw his partner's expression. He never could resist that puppy dog expression. And beside, Dr. Bryce had told him to answer any questions that Blair brought up.

"Alright," Jim nodded and then stood up. "How about you come out to the table? I've made some stew. You can eat while I talk."

Jim got Blair settled at the table and served up a big bowl of rich stew. He sat across from his roommate and looked on in approval as the young man started spooning the thick broth into his mouth.

Blair looked up and caught Jim's gaze.

"Well?" he asked between bites.

"Well what?"

"You were going to tell me why you called me Chief."

"Okay, okay," Jim chuckled at Blair's tenacity. He got up from the table and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. "You want some juice or milk or something?"

"Milk would taste good," Blair nodded.

Jim returned with a glass of milk for his friend and sat back down.

"Now, let me see how........."

Blair stopped eating and stared at Jim. "Is it bad?" the voice held a slight quiver.

"No, no, it's not bad," Jim quickly reassured. "It's just.....I'm not very good at this."

"At what?"

"Let's just say that you're the storyteller in this partnership."

"Storyteller?" Blair frowned. "I thought you said I was an anthropologist."

"You are, you are......." Jim said, pointing at Blair's plate. "Eat. What I'm......."

Jim sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't know if he should tell Blair about his Sentinel abilities and even if the young man could handle it right now.

"Jim?" Blair's tone was filled with fear. "You're beginning to scare me."

Jim quickly opened his eyes and reached out to touch his friend's arm.

"Oh, no, Chief," Jim groaned. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just trying to find the right words."

"Right words for what? I mean.....why should it be so hard to tell?"

Jim sighed once more and came to a quick decision.

"It involves a secret," he told the young man.

"A secret?" Blair leaned back in his chair and gazed at the other man. "What sort of secret?"

"Well, it all began......."

Blair Sandburg stopped in front of the door and put his glasses on before entering the room.

"Detective Ellison. I'm Dr. McKay," he said.

The big man turned and looked at him. "Your name tag says McCoy."

Blair glanced down at the nametag on the lab coat that he wore and then glanced back up. "Um, yeah, but the correct Gaelic pronunciation of my family name is McKay."

The detective just looked back at him for a moment. "You have the results?"

"Of?"

The tests," the man frowned at him in annoyance.

"Forget the tests. You don't need medicine. You need information."

"What are you, an intern?" Jim asked, his annoyance growing. "Go get the doctor for me, will you please?"

"Now wait a second. Hear me out," Blair tried to calm the older man. "Loud noises that shouldn't be loud. Smelling things that no one else can smell. Weird visuals. Tastebuds off the map, right?"

"That's all in my chart," Ellison growled.

"Yeah, but I bet I can add one more thing," Blair paused for a moment, noting that he had the man's full attention. "A hyperactive tactile response."

"A what?" Jim looked confused.

"Extra sensitive touchy-feely lately."

Jim Ellison straightened and glared at the smaller man.

"That's none of your business. And who the hell are you anyway?"

"Me. I'm no one, but this man, he is," Blair quickly pulled out a card and handed it to the detective. "He's the only one who can truly help you. You're too far ahead of the curve for any of this techno trash. You're a cop, see the man."

Blair blinked in astonishment. He took a shuddering breath and shook his head.

"That was me?"

"Yep," Jim nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. He pointed at Blair's bowl and said. "Eat some more."

Blair picked up his spoon and swirled it around in the stew before taking a bite.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"What was wrong with you?" Blair looked up and gave the other man a look of concern.

"That's a secret," Jim said.

"Secret?"

"Secret."

Silence ruled for several moments.

"Jim?"

"Hmm?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Blair said, causing Jim to look up at his Guide.

The tone was so much like the old Sandburg that Jim couldn't contain his grin.

"Sorry, Chief," he continued to grin.

"What secret, Jim!"

"That'd be the Sentinel secret," Jim deadpanned.

Jim stopped smiling when he saw a look of pain cross the young man's face.

"Sentinel?" Blair rubbed at his right temple with a shaking hand.

"Chief?" Jim jumped up and hurried around the table to kneel at his friend's side. "Are you okay?"

Blair turned and stared at the kneeling man. Jim did not think his eyes could get any larger.

"I saw you......I saw......." Blair shrank from Jim and quickly licked at suddenly dry lips.

"Blair?" Jim dropped the hand that was reaching out to his Guide. He didn't like the look of fear that the younger man was sending his way.

"You....you slammed me against a wall...I saw you...." Blair's voice trembled.

"Oh, Chief," Jim sat back on his heels and rubbed his forehead. "Actually, that was our second meeting."

"Why are you in my face?"

"Oh, hey man. I'm really sorry about all that Shakespeare stuff at the hospital. But I just had to find some way to get you into my area here to talk," Blair said.

"So talk," the big man glared at him.

"Okay," Blair nodded. "Uh, here, please take a seat here." Blair picked the files and folders off the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat, man."

Jim Ellison walked over and sat down, still glaring at the bouncing young man in front of him.

"You see, there's this nurse I've been.....you know," Blair explained only to change his tune when he noticed the detective's countenance. "Tutoring at the Med. Center. She saw your chart and she faxed it over to me. And when I read that thing.....man, it was like," Blair clapped his hands together. "BANG! Holy Grail time!"

The detective shook his head and his frown deepened. "You're losing me, Chief."

Blair stopped for a moment. He knew that he would have to tread carefully.

"Okay....um," He paused for a breath. "My name is Blair Sandburg, and I'm working on my doctorate in Anthropology. And you just may be the living embodiment of my field of study. If I'm correct, Detective Ellison, you're a behavioral throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man."

There was a look of astonishment on Jim Ellison's face as he stood up.

"Are you out of your mind. You dragged me all the way over here to tell me I'm some sort of caveman?" Jim's voice was low and dangerous.

"Well," Blair shrugged slightly. "Maybe I was a little out of line with that caveman remark. But I mean......"

He lost his breath as the large man grabbed him and threw him against the wall.

"Listen, you neo-hippy witch doctor punk!" the man bellowed in his face. "I could slap you right now with larceny and false impersonation. And you're heading real quick into harassing a police officer. And what's more," the man gave Blair a little shake. "Your behavior is giving me probable cause to shake this place down from top to bottom for narcotics."

Anger replaced the fear when Blair heard the threats.

"Hey, Joe Friday," he yelled back. "Relax, okay?" Jim looked stunned for a moment. "Look, you mess with me, man, and you are never gonna figure out what's up with you." Blair said, then paused as the detective released him and stepped back, confusion evident. "Now I know about your time spent in Peru and it has got to be connected to what's happening to you now. Now let me show you something here." Blair walked over to his desk and grabbed a large book. "This is a monograph by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer, not the actor. It's over a hundred years old." Blair's tone was reverent and he opened the book with great care and gently handed it to the other man. "Anyway, the idea goes something like this," Blair continued. "In all tribal cultures every village had what Burton named a Sentinel. Now this was someone who patrolled the borders."

Jim looked down at the picture before him and felt a strange tug in his soul.

"You mean a scout?" he looked up.

"No, no, no," the young man said. "More like a watchman. You see, this Sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, change in the weather, movement of game. Tribal survival depended on it."

"Yeah, what's this got to do with me?"

****************************

"That's what you are, then. A Sentinel," Blair's voice interrupted the memories.

"That's what I am," Jim nodded. "And you're my Guide."

"Guide?" Blair began to look confused again. "What's a Guide?"

"Oh, no," Jim shook his head and climbed to his feet. "I think we have strolled down memory lane enough for now."

"But Jim," came the protest.

"Let's not force it okay, Chief?" Jim patted the other man on the cheek. "There will be plenty of time."

"That's easy for you to say," Blair muttered before pushing away from the table. "You know who you are."

"Look on the bright side," Jim said.

"There's a bright side?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "You remembered something." Jim grimaced and rubbed his chest. "Not very flattering to me. But something."

Blair paused for a minute before sending a bright smile Jim's way.

"You called me a neo-hippy witch doctor punk?" he sent a mock punch at his partner.

"Not one of my better moments, for sure," Jim chuckled. "I just didn't quite know how to take you, Chief."

"That's when you started calling me 'Chief' isn't it?" Blair moved closer and gazed up at Jim.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "It just sorta stuck."

"I like it," Blair whispered, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'm glad," Jim whispered also. He threw his arm around the younger man and led him towards the living room. "Since you're not going to eat anymore, how about watching some TV?"

"I guess," Blair agreed as he sank down onto the couch. "Can I have something to drink, though?" he asked, looking up into light blue eyes. "I don't know why I'm so thirsty all the time."

"Sure, I'll get you some more juice," Jim walked back into the kitchen. "And it's the medicine that's making you thirsty, partner."

"Um," Blair responded, leaning back and resting his head on the back of the couch.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He head was beginning to hurt again, but he didn't want to take anything just yet. He was sure that he was going to start remembering things and he didn't want to lose his train of thought.

"Here you go," Blair opened his eyes to see Jim standing over him with a small glass of juice. He straightened and reached for the glass.

"Thank you," he said as he sipped at the cool liquid.

"Welcome," Jim sent him a smile. "You doing okay?"

"Umm, hmm."

"I'm going to wash the dishes and then we can watch a movie or something."

"Kay," Blair nodded. He finished his drink and then handed the glass back to Jim.

Jim reached over and grabbed the remote from the end table and handed it to Blair.

"Here. You can channel surf or something until I get through."

Blair took the remote and placed it in his lap. He watched as Jim returned to the table to retrieve the dishes. He leaned his head back again and tried to relax. He wanted to pursue the memories that were just out of reach but he didn't know how to approach the big detective. One thing he had learned during the past five days was the protectiveness that his 'partner' showed toward him. At first he didn't know how to take the man's hovering but had quickly discovered that the other man's touches and soft words brought a sense of rightness to the situation. And when the pounding in his head became unbearable, one touch from the large hand would send it scurrying for cover.

In fact, Blair frowned; he could use that touch right now. The pulsating pain was beginning to become more pronounced with each passing second.

As if on cue, the couch dipped as Jim settled down on his right. Gentle arms pulled him until he was leaning against a strong shoulder. Cool, feather light touches began to massage his forehead, moving across the wrinkled brow and toward his left temple.

"Feels good," he whispered. "How did you know?"

Jim moved his caress back to Blair's forehead.

"You looked like you were in pain," he said as he smoothed the wrinkles between Blair's closed eyes. "Just relax, okay. You want something for pain?"

"Not right now," Blair declined, settling more into the embrace. "It helps when you do that."

"I'm glad," Jim continued the gentle massage.

"I don't understand though," Blair frowned slightly, opening his eyes and gazing up at the older man.

"I don't know either, Sandburg," Jim shrugged slightly. "It's always been this way. It's like we have a special bond or something."

"Um," was the only reply.

Jim looked down to see that the younger man's eyes had drifted shut once more and he looked totally relaxed.

"You going to sleep here, Chief?" Jim's tone held amusement.

"Wanted to talk some more."

"About what?"

"Memories."

"Let's not push it, okay?" Jim moved to the end of the couch and turned to lean against the arm. He gently turned Blair around, letting Blair rest his back against his chest. This freed both hands and Jim used them to massage Blair's temples.

"I want to remember," Blair protested, even as he relaxed against Jim. "Please."

"I know you do, Chief," Jim said. "But I don't want you to make yourself sick."

"It bothers me more....having this great big empty space....."Blair paused. "Tell me another story, okay?"

Jim chuckled at his friend's insistence. "Another story, huh?"

"Yeah," Blair nodded, then rested his head on Jim's shoulder. "About when we first met."
"Well...hmmm," Jim shifted around for comfort, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it at his back. He motioned for Blair to get in a reclining position. "Let's see." He began. "How about you saving my life?"

"I saved YOUR life?" Blair turned his head and gazed up with a look of disbelief. "How?"

DOWN MEMORY LANE part 3