Disclaimer #1: The Sentinel and all the characters belong to PetFly Productions. I just stumbled along and saw the boys and wanted to play too! I am making no money off this nor do I have any for you to gain from suing me. However in lieu of money I have more than my fair share of cat hair you are most gladly welcome to. As I said I am making no money off this, I just like to write and I like to write for all the listsibs who enjoy it.

Disclaimer #2: "If You Could Read My Mind." Is owned by Warner/Riprise, and written by Gordon Lightfoot. Again I am not making a cent off this, I just really like this song! Folks, please don't sue.

Title: "If You Could Read My Mind."

Author: Terrijo

Summary: With Blair attending the academy, a lonely Jim has an unexpected late-night meeting that takes him back to another time, with reflections on his past.

Rating: G

Warning: For those of you who don't like Carolyn.be warned. I like her! Also.see the Summary and you'll see where Blair is.

Spoilers: Oh Boy.Switchman, Cypher, Sentinel Too, and The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg.

Note: I have never done any kind of story based on a song, but this story just begged to come out! This is also a first for me in many ways, 1st Person POV, First Sentinel Story, First Short Story.You get the idea! Feedback is welcome, privately, but please no flames.

Archive: Yes? Please? To Cascade Library and Guide Posts? With links to my site??? (Give it a couple more days.) Please?????

Thank you especially to TAE, for putting up with me tormenting her on how to get this thing set up right and for also for not letting me off the hook in writing it! Dang, she can be ruthless! She graciously took a newbie under her wing and beta'd for me! Thanks also to ALL the writers out there, your stories have been great fun! I only hope my humble little offering is worth it all!























If You Could Read My Mind

A drizzling mist whirled softly in the beams of the sodium parking lot lights as Jim pulled into an available space in front of the Cascade Market. He heaved a sigh, setting the parking brake on his truck, and shut the old rig down. It was late, he was tired, and knew his roommate would be out of it by the time he got home. As he idly watched the swirling fog- like droplets spiral down, he felt a twinge of loneliness. With Sandburg going through the academy, he was still riding a desk, and it annoyed him a little that he found himself missing his partner. Hell, who was he fooling? He flat out missed Sandburg's presence.

"It won't be too much longer, though," he growled to himself, reaching for his baseball hat. Tugging the hat on, he tried shoving away his moody thoughts. He hated coming home and not be able to hear of the day's exploits from his partner to be. Lately that had been nearly every night for several weeks.

"You should be grateful he's home, period," he groused, then paused. Yeah. How close had he come to loosing him for good? Alex was bad enough, the dissertation, infinitely worse. Jim drew in a deep breath. Be grateful for the little things, he reminded himself, including missing him. He found himself smiling slightly. He never thought he'd see the day he'd miss hearing "the voice" babbling on about something.

He heaved another sigh, popped the handle to the door and climbed out of the truck. At least he'd be there when he did get home. Despite their schedules, just knowing Blair was sleeping in the room below, safe and reasonably sound, should be enough to keep him happy. After all, he was sleeping fairly well at night. Still, he did miss the conversation. Running his hand along the door to snap the lock down, he shut it with a solid metallic klunk, flipped the collar up on his jacket, and headed inside.

There was something to be said about feeling lonely though.

Inside, he readjusted to the light, sounds, and smells, as he searched for where the box-boys stacked the hand baskets. He only needed a few things, and they weren't all that big. As he located them and bent to gather one up, his nose twitched, lip lifting slightly as a familiar scent caught his attention. He looked around, wondering if he should dial up or let it drop. Perfume. Very familiar at that. He shook his head, letting the handles of the basket slide down into his long fingers as he straightened. He opted to let it drop.

Though they still kept in touch, every now and again, thinking of her only made the loneliness a bit harder. He already felt that way, why feel worse? Besides that particular chapter was closed.

He headed down an aisle, making his way around a young man setting up rows of canned goods. Most of the activity this late at night was the restocking of the shelves along with a scattering of late night shoppers. He turned at the end, and spent several minutes rounding up a few items before heading over to the bakery.

He found himself standing in front of formidable selection of breads laid out provocatively, enticing one and all by the sheer variety available. He cautiously nudged up his sense of smell, nothing really could beat the aroma of fresh baked bread right? And there were so many here to choose from. He was hovering over the foccachia, his thoughts a million miles away when the perfume drifted across his path again. Only it was a little stronger than he expected. He was aware of two things at once. Someone was standing next to him, and he couldn't do anything but turn away as the sneeze hit him.

"AAACCHOO!"

He scrambled for composure, looking up quickly as he grabbed at his nose, his eyes suddenly watering. A familiar laugh sounded in his ears. He froze. A tall, slender, shorthaired, brunette stood before him, dark eyes sparkling, holding her own basket, and obviously enjoying his lack of decorum.

"Carolyn?"

"Don't tell me your allergic to garlic now, Jimmy?"





If you could read my mind love

What a tale my thoughts could tell

Just like an old time movie

`Bout a ghost from a wishin' well



He was the last person she expected to see, even knowing this was the market he often frequented. She had spotted him, leaning over the bread and her breath caught a moment. He would always be so very handsome in her eyes, right down to that tired old Jags hat he always wore. The square jaw, broad shoulders, long fingers. She smiled slightly to herself, studying him as he seemed to be deep in thought over what sort of bread to choose. He looked so.lost.

He hadn't seen her yet so she ambled over. Drawing near, he began to stand upright, as a funny expression crossed his face and he abruptly turned away, sneezing hard. She couldn't help herself as she began to laugh.

He turned towards her as he grabbed his nose and upper lip and looked at her with those electric blue eyes radiating surprise, like he had seen some sort of ghost.

"Carolyn?" he asked, blinking away water that had formed in his eyes. She smiled at him, enjoying getting the drop on him for a change.

"Don't tell me your allergic to garlic now, Jimmy?"

"W-What are you doing here?" he managed, sniffling once, gaining control and straightening. She glanced down at his basket, smirking.

"Obviously the same thing you are."she replied dryly. His hand dove into his jacket, extracting a handkerchief as he studied her for a moment.

"What are you doing in Cascade?" he asked, wiping at his nose, briefly over his fingers, then slipping the cloth away.

"Mom and Dad's 50th Anniversary tomorrow. My sister insisted I come up." He stared a second longer then a smile played over his lips.was it her imagination or did he seem genuinely glad to see her?

"You could ask how I'm doing?" she supplied seeing he was still a little off balance. The smile grew as he glanced away.

"How are you?" he asked gazing back at her.

"I'm fine, you?"

"Couldn't be better," he said.

"Liar," she replied, smiling back at him. "You look tired."

"When don't I?" he asked. She pursed her lips, glancing at the bread.

"True.Been working late?" She looked back at him.

"Yup."

"How's Simon?"

"The same. Never changes."

"He's recovered from the shooting?" She fired back, then paused, a knowing smile crossing her lips. Jim's own reflected it.

"We're lousy at chit chat, Jimmy."

"Yup," he agreed, then smiled gently, his entire face softening.

"You busy?" he asked.

"Just doing some late night shopping." she said sighing and looking away.sometimes it was just too hard to look at him. Jim looked around himself, noticing the in-store coffee shop located just beyond the bakery. Only two people were sitting in it.

"Buy you some coffee?" he asked, eyebrows up, hopeful. She looked up at him, studying the handsome chiseled features a moment. Seeing only sincerity in his request, she nodded.

"Sure."

Jim nodded, pleased, and held out a hand, indicating for her to go ahead of him. Carolyn smiled and started walking.



In a castle dark or a fortress strong

With chains upon my feet

You know that ghost is me

And I will never be set free

As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see

"Your parents 50th, huh?" he asked as he set two cups of coffee before them. Carolyn had found a quiet table towards the back, by the rail separating the shop from the bakery. She watched as he stuffed his hat into his jacket pocket, pulled the chair out, and set the backrest against the rail. He sat down, turning out slightly to accommodate his tall frame, settling one leg across the other knee. With one arm resting on the table and the other in his lap he gazed at her as she tore open a packet of sugar.

"Yeah well, not many marriages last that long.especially in my family," she replied. He watched as she suddenly caught herself, then glanced at him.

"Sorry." she said softly, the corner of her mouth lifting in apology, her eyes watching him..

"I knew what you meant," he responded, his voice low, pitched for her ears only. He smiled back his understanding. Carolyn lifted her shoulders, looking at her cup.

"My sister wanted me to come up, and, well, you know." she looked at him, smiling wryly.

Of all the people to run into in the market this late at night, Carolyn would be the last person he'd have guessed. She looked beautiful, as always, well dressed, and appeared to be glad to see him. Yet there seemed to be a wariness lurking beneath her gaze as she began telling him of the Plummer family exploits. His thoughts wandered, half listening to her, but more interested in the effect that her quiet dialogue seemed to be having on his mood. Strange how that worked on him, easing the tension away, helping him to relax. When he let it. A faint smile crept across his lips, no doubt it was from the conditioning he'd received from Blair over the years. The conversation lulled.

"Job still working out all right?" he prompted. Carolyn nodded, telling him of a few of the more interesting cases to have crossed her path since taking over the SFPD Forensics Dept.



If I could read your mind love

What a tale your thoughts could tell

Just like a paperback novel

The kind that drugstores sell



Her eyes drifted across his face, noting the lines, a touch of weariness, and the eyes. Those eyes, less foreboding now, less cold, and still so very blue. There was more compassion, more warmth, something she rarely saw. She glanced away as they met hers, and she busied herself stirring the coffee with one of those ineffectual red and white straws, the corner of her mouth crooking up slightly. He seemed different, sitting so relaxed across from her. As she talked, her own thoughts wandered to the recent bout of news surrounding this man. Sandburg's thesis had made him an overnight sensation on all the network news channels, until Sandburg himself had come on television and denied it all as a fraud.

"Have things managed to settle down now since Sandburg's press conference? " she asked softly, genuinely hoping they had, for his sake. Well for both their sakes. She knew Sandburg had given up everything he had ever studied for. Jim shrugged, gazing at her thoughtfully, as a shutter clicked into place far behind his eyes.

"Yeah.they have," he smiled slightly, the left corner of his mouth lifting, softening the hardness he sometimes presented to everyone else. "I was yesterday's news by the 11:00pm broadcast."

"That must have been hell dealing with them," she added wryly, knowing that her own dealings with the media had been uncomfortable to say the least.

"Yup.Just glad they're gone."

"And Sandburg? How is he?" she asked, risking a glance up, meeting the blue eyes gazing back at her. The ice blue eyes were speculative. She could see him wondering if her interests were genuine or just making small talk. Carolyn looked away as a twinge of regret pinged at her.

"He's okay.still hurting a bit, but we're working on that. The academy is keeping him pretty busy." His smile widened as he saw the look of surprise register in her eyes.

"Academy? Sandburg? You've got to be joking!" She looked at him incredulously, her own smile threatening to turn into a laugh.

"Even cut his hair." Jim replied, making a chopping motion at his neck and watching her reaction with amusement. Carolyn could hardly believe it, but then Sandburg had been backing Jim up for more than three years now. It was one of the strangest partnerships she had ever seen, but it worked and the proof sat before her. As he told her how Simon and the other detectives had worked to bring about Sandburg's entrance into the academy Carolyn thought's drifted back to the dissertation.

A Sentinel. Someone with all five senses working beyond normal human range. Why hadn't she been able to see it before? The Switchman case had been her first clue, Jim seemed to be going insane complaining about his senses going haywire, and that dinner they had had that night when he reacted to the paprika in his pasta. Or being able to locate her watch in the back of her car. How could she have been so blind?

Then the Lash case, when Simon overrode her objections about opening up the beaker of water allowing Jim to simply sniff it. He had been right, too. It had been pond water, with a lot of ducks. There was a spark of guilt that her reluctance to let him examine the water had nearly cost Sandburg his life.

Just what could he see? What could he hear, or smell, or taste? Or feel? Her thoughts drifted to that last time they had kissed.

Her eyes studied him as he talked. So many things were making sense, no pun intended. The dissertation fiasco had put all the pieces together for her. She knew it was true, Jim was a sentinel and she had been too blind to see it all along. Now he sat across from her, his shoulders relaxed, no longer stiff with tension and anxiety, and that famous Ellison jaw showing not a single sign of being clenched. That's what Blair had done for him. He had helped this tall, strong man get control over something no one would believe or understand. And she had been one of them. She had been too selfish, wrapped up in her own world, and still trying to get him to bend to her demands. She had inflicted hurt when he needed help. In the long run all she had done was push him away.

Now he sat across from her, a different man from the one she had known, and she found herself feeling sorry that she didn't know who he was anymore.



When you reach the part

Where the heartaches come

The hero would be me

But hero's often fail

And you won't read that book again

Because the ending's just too hard to take.



He saw the sadness far back in her dark eyes, and the questions that lingered like mist, before vanishing away as she turned her eyes back down to the cup in front of her.

"Turn's out Blair's a better marksman then any of us thought he was capable of," he said, his voice low, barely hiding the pride he felt towards his partner. Carolyn smiled, nodding, and he knew she had only heard about half the conversation.

"Well he's had all this time watching you," she replied, teasing gently. He grinned.

"That and the fact he never actually admitted to using a hand gun before, just that he never liked them."

She shook her head, unsuccessfully hiding the smirk on her features. "That sounds so like him!"

"Does, doesn't it?" He remarked and continued talking, watching her.

He wondered how much she knew. The question was there, flickering behind her eyes, it didn't take a mind reader or even a sentinel to see it. Carolyn didn't get to her rank or position without having a remarkable set of brains to go with it. She wanted to ask him. Yet something in the depths stopped her. It wasn't pity lurking there, more like sorrow and regret.

He had thought along those lines so much over the years. Now they surfaced again, destined to haunt him. How their fairytale wedding had gone bust. The Hero from Peru weds. Hero, that's a classic, he thought sourly. He could feel himself smirk in disgust. His Dad had the wedding photo, shot for a local interest story in the Cascade Times. Jim in his uniform and Carolyn in her wedding dress, holding the bouquet of flowers before her and smiling. His eyes shifted away as she remarked on something from her own days attending the academy.

Even now, she was still beautiful, the soft tendrils of hair framing her high cheekbones, tapering along her neck, glinting copper and gold in the muted lighting of the coffee shop. She had been radiant back then too. Together they had made a storybook couple. It had barely lasted two years. He had been so cold, refusing to let her in past the walls. Closing down when the troubles between them started. Never letting her beyond the barricade he had erected to prevent himself from feeling the hurt.the pain.the agony. They had said some stupid things to each other over the course of their short-lived marriage. He had been that cold, selfish, arrogant loner, refusing to let anyone near what really lurked under that tough, stoic exterior, not even his own wife. She had managed to get by a few of the defenses, enough to where he admitted he cared for her. Enough to make that one commitment. But not enough to get him to save it. Eventually she retreated and they drifted apart.

Before he realized it was over and the divorce was final. Big, tough, strong Jim Ellison had failed.

Now she sat across from him, and he couldn't help but note the tiny lines around her eyes and mouth. Battle scars, little telltale reminders of the pain and weariness. True, they were better friends now after the divorce then they had been before, but he was only too acutely aware of the damage he had inflicted. He also knew that he was part of the reason she had permanently left for San Francisco. He felt himself sigh, his eyes drifting to his shoe, not wanting to look and see those faint tendrils of remorse in her eyes, and not wanting her to see them reflected in his own.



I'd walk away like a movie star

Who gets burned in a three way script

Enter number two

A movie queen to play the scene

Of bringing all the good things out in me

But for now love, let's be real

"He's helped you a lot," she said, seeing Jim's eyes drift away. They looked back at her, the blueness flashing, a bit startled.

"Huh?" he asked. Carolyn dipped her head, hiding the smile.

"You haven't heard a thing I've said, have you, Jimmy?" she asked, hating the slight tone of sarcasm touching her voice.

"Sure I have.you were telling about pulling the practical joke with two of your classmates on the firearms instructor when you went through the academy." He tried smiling his best, I'm with it, smile. She saw however, something else. His shoulders lifted as tension tightened them.

"What did I just ask you?" she replied, fixing him with a challenging look. Jim sipped at his coffee, his eyes scanning the room habitually, his foot beginning to tap. His free hand reached down and gripped at his ankle as if touch alone would stop it. Carolyn watched as the lines along his jaw began to constrict. She felt a familiar annoyance surface. He was preparing to dive for cover again. Then he stared a moment at his coffee, relaxing again, letting his shoulders drop.

"Okay, what did you ask me?" He asked, meeting her gaze. Carolyn blinked once, as he settled back, still idly tapping his foot, only slower now. She let out a soft exhalation of disbelief.

"Blair," she said simply. "He's really helped you."

"Yeah." he replied. "He has. more than he knows."

He was so much more at ease with himself, she realized. More relaxed. Mellowed. Jim Ellison? Mellow? She wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't sitting in front of her. It all had to be Sandburg's work too.

She had met, fallen in love with, and married, the man in the department everyone else was afraid of. Her eyes drifted to her coffee, remembering him as the guy no one wanted to partner with. Jim did not care what anyone thought of him. He just wanted to do his job, and keep doing it until he was ready to drop. He had been so hard then, cold and selfish, always needing to be in control. It had come as a surprise to her when he asked her out, and she had begun to see something else just past that exterior. There was a real live human being in there and she was the first one to actually be allowed to get a little closer. Just that glimpse of him was all it took and she was gone from that point. Her heart reached out and tried hard to get more of that person to come out to where others could see he wasn't as bad as his bark, for the most part. She felt a rueful smile play across her features.

She had been a fool herself believing that if she just cared enough, loved enough, she could get past that thick brick wall Ellison had spent years building around himself. How many other girls had tricked themselves into believing that same sort of thing? Really believing that they could change a man, bring out the good qualities and bury the bad ones. Even Lt.Carolyn Plummer had fallen for that line of reasoning, caught by the actions of the heart. I can change him, she had believed. Now she sat across from the man she had divorced, and could see the changes she had wanted to make in him. Knowing that someone else had accomplished it. Knowing she was no longer a part of it. It left her feeling empty.



I never thought I could feel this way

And I've got to say that I just don't get it

I don't know where we went wrong

But the feelin's gone

And I just can't get it back

"Carolyn?" he asked, seeing her eyes drift off. She was sitting across from him, but she was nowhere near the table. She was back in a blink; her dark eyes focused on him, a myriad of emotions floating wraith- like in the depths.

"What is it?" he murmured, watching her. She blinked again in surprise, her features going blank, staring back at him. He could see that she had never expected him to ask how she felt, and he couldn't ignore the guilt that accompanied it.

"How'd he do it, Jimmy?" she asked softly. Then she shook her head, and closed her eyes. She turned away as she slipped a hand to her mouth and struggled against the self-mocking smile that threatened her composure.

"Damn.I sound like a jealous schoolgirl," she whispered, her voice tinged with self-loathing. He reached over, his fingers gently wrapping around her own. She started as if shocked, and he winced, meeting her eyes.

"I mean.Let's face it, I tried for several years to get you out of your self-made prison, and here you are." She said in a soft rush of words. "Sure there have been times when we've been together after.after the divorce where we've been fine, but you've always been so tense, always ready for something to happen. Never letting me past the surface."

He winced again, hearing the hurt and confusion under her words.

"If I knew Carolyn," he said his voice low. "I'd tell you.Blair just, " he paused trying to find the right words, something he found surprisingly hard sometimes. "Blair just accepted me." His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his thumb barely stroking over her fingers, feeling the microscopic impression on her skin where a ring had once sat. He felt her pulse jump. Inwardly he groaned.

"He just accepted you." She barely breathed, and he could see that unasked question fill her eyes again. He looked down at her fingers, watching his thumb, slowly stroke the skin. He could feel his features going blank, his mask of stoicism reasserting itself. Only this time he didn't keep the long restrained sorrow from his own eyes as he thought back along the course of their relationship.

"How many times do I have to apologize?" he asked softly. "I'm a cold hearted, son-of-a-bitch. We all know that. I made mistakes.I never intentionally set out to hurt you."

He wondered how he had ended up here. Suddenly facing the well of regret and deep loneliness again.

"I." he started.

"Don't." she said gazing at him. " I'm sorry too.it's just seeing you sit here so relaxed and comfortable.I can't help but feel." she trailed off.

"What?" he asked, looking at her.

"Bitter." she said quietly, ducking her head down, feeling ashamed. "I tried." His fingers squeezed gently, bringing her attention back to him.

"I know." he replied softly. "And I didn't."



If you could read my mind love

What a tale my thoughts could tell

Just like an old time movie

'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well

In a castle dark or a fortress strong

With chains upon my feet

But stories always end



She saw it then.the remorse lingering behind his blue eyes, along with the unasked question of his own. She realized that he knew. Yet she couldn't bring herself to ask him if it really was true.

"What changed?" she asked quietly. Jim shrugged, his lips pursing, jaw line tightening, then relaxing again as he thought.

"Me," he said gazing down at her fingers in his hand. She wondered just what he was feeling there. He smiled, ruefully. "Getting older I suppose, " he snorted softly. "Mellowing." He looked at her and she saw a bit of self-mocking humor beneath the light blue depths.

"Ellison? Mellowing?" she replied, trying to pull them out of the down-spin their meeting had suddenly nose-dived into. She felt embarrassed over her own reactions. "Never."

"Hard to believe, huh?" he replied back. She smirked slightly.

"Hard to believe." she echoed, gazing at him thoughtfully. "We never did understand why you took Sandburg under your wing." But as the words left her lips she realized now that she did know, and she could see that he saw it too.

"I just can't figure out how he got in past those damned walls of yours," she said as gently as she could. Jim nodded, a soft smile reappearing on his set features. Carolyn couldn't miss the look of fondness on his face.

"Neither can I," he admitted. "But he did."

"Somehow, " she said slowly, "You let him." He looked away again, thinking.

"I needed help," he said quietly. "Blair had it." Carolyn sighed, gently clutching his fingers, stopping his thumb.

"I couldn't help?" she asked softly, surprised to hear the wistful quality in her own voice. Jim looked at her, his features going blank again, studying her. Then his head slowly shook no. The regret in his eyes nearly cutting her in two. Carolyn looked away, trying to shove down the surge of grief she felt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She shook her head shoving away the retort she felt. Then looked at him.

"That's twice tonight. You're not allowed any more apologies," she replied forcing a smile, suddenly finding herself diving for cover.

"It's true though, " he replied. "And I can't take away the pain."





And if you read between the lines

You'll know that I'm just tryin' to understand

The feelin's that you lack

She knew by looking at him, that he couldn't either. Despite the desire in his eyes to take the pain away.

He could see that the damage between them was probably irreversible. She knew Blair had had the answers he needed and for the three-plus years they had been together, he had been the one to bring Jim to a tolerable level of humanity. Brought him to the acceptance of the people he worked with. No longer being that loner they feared. Something that Carolyn herself had always wanted to do but couldn't. It didn't surprise him that she felt some sort of bitterness towards Sandburg for the position he had managed to worm his way into in his life, but he could tell it was of a kind that she didn't enjoy feeling. It hurt her and he couldn't change that. No matter how much he wanted to.

"Carolyn." he said softly. "Let's not do this to ourselves. Some things can't be changed."

"No." she agreed quietly. "Some things can't."

He watched as she sighed, resigned. He winced again, seeing the fleeting ghost of hopelessness shimmer briefly in her eyes. She drew in air, wrapping courage around her.

"We have a strange friendship." She said smiling slightly. He nodded, looking down, still clutching her fingers in his hands.

"At least we have a friendship," he said. Just not the one we expected, he added to himself and could see the same thought reflected in her own eyes as she gazed at him.



I never thought I could feel this way

And I've got to say that I just don't get it

I don't know where we went wrong

But the feelin's gone

And I just can't get it back



At the loft, Jim stood gazing out the balcony windows, his arms crossed. He leaned against the cool glass, watching the rain that the mist had turned into, idly knocking the long neck bottle he held in his fingers against himself. No lights were on, but the embers from a fire Blair had lit at some point in time that evening cast enough of a glow to light the room in soft tones. Not that he really needed it. The place was warm, comfortable, lived in. Nothing like it had been when Carolyn had lived there. Blair had been sound asleep when he finally got home.

They had parted on a melancholy note. He had escorted her to her car, asking if they would have a chance to meet again before she left. Wanting somehow to know if she would ever bring herself to ask the question he had seen in her eyes about his abilities. She had said maybe, but they both knew they wouldn't. She did, however promise to call when she got home and he knew that she would. The distance being her safety zone.

It left him feeling lonelier then when he had entered the Supermarket.

He sighed, closing his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. Listening to the rain softly pattering down. He didn't know how long he stood there until he felt a familiar hand gently grip his arm. A half- awake, low, familiar voice asked,

"Jim?"

He blinked his eyes open in surprise, looking down at Blair. Then snorted ever so gently, a smile tugging at his lips. The guy was uncanny, despite his appearance, in his rumpled boxers, T-shirt, and mussed up hair. Jim could see he was still pretty much asleep. Yet somehow he knew his Sentinel needed a shoulder, even waking him up in the dead of night.

"You okay, man?" he asked, scratching at the back of his head, eyes half open, looking at him perplexed. Jim watched the latest of non verbal hand gestures Blair had added to his repertoire, that of fingering the shortened, tapered curls at the back of his head. Even though his hair had been short for months now, his body subconsciously still couldn't believe it was all gone. Jim gazed at him, letting the fond smile play over his features.

"Yeah I'm all right, Chief," he murmured softly. "Go back to bed."

"You sure?" he asked, stifling a yawn and letting his hand drop.

"Yes I'm sure, just ran into someone tonight at the store. Nothing to worry about."

"Who?" Blair asked, rubbing at an eye. Jim shook his head.

"Carolyn."

"Carolyn?" That widened the sleepy deep blue eyes a bit, adding to the perplexity already there. Jim shook his head seeing he wasn't about to get the guy to go back to sleep.

"She's in town for a few days. Parent's 50th anniversary. We just sorta ran into one another at the store. No big deal."

"Yeah.right." The voice dropped lower, knowing better than that. Jim shook his head.

"It was a little strained, but nothing I can't handle." He reassured his partner. Blair studied him a moment. Jim raised an eyebrow, then shook his head.

"Go on back to sleep, Sandburg." he urged gently. "You're half out just standing there."

"How strained?" The voice persisted. Jim looked at his roommate a bit annoyed, it was late and he didn't really want to get into this. However.

"It wasn't bad, Chief, just kinda made, " he gazed at his friend. "It kinda made the loneliness a bit worse." He reached up then, unfolding his arms and gently gripped the back of Blair's neck with his free hand.

"Lonely?" Blair asked, a puzzled, sleepy frown on his face. Jim snorted softly again.

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk to each other the past few weeks, Chief. I kinda miss it." Jim found himself looking down at the ever hopeful, pleased look that often crossed Sandburg's face when he actually admitted something to him. There had been a lot more of that since the press conference and their working together to bring about reconciliation to all the pain that had been between them.

They seemed to be working it out, yet somehow he and Carolyn couldn't seem to reach the same sort of goal.

"You've missed me?" Blair asked. Jim heaved a sigh, hiding the smile on his face and shaking his head ruefully, the guy was gonna drag it out of him somehow. Buck up Ellison, get it done and over with.

"Yes Chief, I've missed you, satisfied?" He squeezed the back of Blair's neck and let his hand drop. He was rewarded with something he hadn't seen in quite a while. Half-asleep as he was, looking goofy in his rumpled underclothes, Blair suddenly bounced once or twice on his bare toes, smiling a bright genuine smile.

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, I am!"

"Good, go back to bed." Jim growled. Blair shook his head, bounced again, then reached out and gripped Jim's arm gently.

"You looked wiped, maybe you should go upstairs too."

"I will. Goodnight, Chief!"

"Mornin' man," Blair corrected, then reached up and gently patted Jim's back, before letting go and turning away. "And I've missed you, too," he added, wandering back to his room, toying with the curls at the back of his head again. Jim shook his head, watching him go, waiting until the doors closed before turning back to the balcony windows.

In the loft he felt the warmth again, knowing at least things between him and his partner were well on the road to recovery. He pulled at the bottle in his hands, noting the liquid had warmed up too much, and deciding it wasn't worth finishing. As he stared out at the rain-blurred lights of the bay and the downtown districts of Cascade, he idly let his hearing drift. He sorted through the night sounds before his attention was caught by a stereo on one of the boats docked at the marina.as he listened his features slowly relaxed and went blank, his thoughts drifting back to the coffee shop and his conversation with Carolyn. He easily recognized the song as a guitar began to play.he listened thoughtfully, and remained standing there long after the song was over, the rain sliding gently down the window panes.



If you could read my mind love

What a tale my thoughts could tell

Just like an old time movie

'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well

In a castle dark or a fortress strong

With chains upon my feet

You know that ghost is me

And I will never be set free

As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see



If I could read your mind love

What a tale your thoughts could tell

Just like a paperback novel

The kind that drugstores sell

When you reach the part

where the heartaches come

The hero would be me

But heroes often fail

And you won't read that book again

Because the ending's just too hard to take



I'd walk away like a movie star

Who gets burned in a three way script

Enter number two

A movie queen to play the scene

Of bringing all the good things out in me

But for now love, let's be real

I never thought I could feel this way

And I've got to say that I just don't get it

I don't know where we went wrong

But the feelin's gone

And I just can't get it back

If you could read my mind love

What a tale my thoughts could tell

Just like an old time movie

'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well

In a castle dark or a fortress strong

With chains upon my feet

But stories always end

And if you read between the lines

You'll know that I'm just tryin' to understand

The feelin's that you lack

I never thought I could feel this way

And I've got to say that I just don't get it

I don't know where we went wrong

But the feelin's gone

And I just can't get it back



Gordon Lightfoot.