Disclaimer:  The characters of Jim and Blair aren't mine.   Neither are Gary, Chuck, Marissa, or Spike.  I'm just borrowing them and I'll return them to their rightful owners after I'm done.  I take full responsibility for Dr.Pulaski, though.  Guess what the name of my prof is for tomorrow night's Final?

"Yeah, Jim."  He said into the cell phone as quietly as possible.  "I promise I'll keep out of trouble.  Right.  Okay, I'll see you at the airport Sunday afternoon...  Later, buddy."

Blair Sandburg closed the little cell phone and shook his head. *Walking trouble magnet...* he thought and  laughed to himself.  He stared at the pile of books in front of him, ran a free hand through his hair and went back to his reading.

"...recent transcription of ancient glyphs and scrolls has brought new life to the Sentinel legends of..."  He read on, thoughts of his friend dissolving into thoughts of his Sentinel.  Academia took over as the words filled his mind, eliminating his awareness of everything else.

~~~~~

"Charlie," the worker started.  "I got in early and started right away. Figured we could use the..."

"Whoah!  Let me have a look at the work order again." Charlie said and fiddled with a thick set of papers.  "BERNIE!  We're supposed to dismantle that big one over THERE..."

~~~~~

It was WAY late.  Packing up his laptop and the random papers full of scribble only he could understand, Blair threw everything into his backpack and hoped that security could let him out of the building.  And if they could, would they do so without a lot of hassle?  He really didn't want to have them call the university , or worse, JIM.  It would only go to prove that everywhere he went, even ALL the way here in Chicago, Blair Sandburg was STILL a trouble magnet.

It was completely innocent.  He'd been working away on his notes and the texts and, as usual, had lost track of the time.  Situated in the furthest reaches of the resource room, the anthropologist hadn't heard the librarian or any of the  assistants calling out the closing time.  To his credit, he'd actually set the alarm on the laptop's planner, not realizing that he'd set it for normal time - Cascade time.  So here it was, two hours after closing and Blair was hastening towards the front of the museum, oblivious to the nightly maintenance tasks and their respective workers.

~~~~~

"NO, Bernie."  Charlie said, waving a large wrench at his partner.  "RIGHTY tighty, lefty LOOSEY!  NOOOOO!!!!!"

~~~~~

One minute he was standing there staring down at the papers that had been released by the broken zipper on his backpack, and the next minute he was staring up at the ceiling.  He tried to sit up, finding several bones of literally mammoth proportion resting across his chest.  A quick mental check revealed that everything was functioning and nothing seemed to be punctured or ruptured.

"Hallelujah for that.   Something right for once!"

"GAR!'  Came the call and was answered with a movement under the debree. "GAR!  Gees.  What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?"

The voice stopped abruptly as Blair looked up into a friendly, albeit unrecognizable, face.

"Hey, buddy.  You okay?"  The man asked.  "Can I give you a hand?  Or maybe a femur?"  They stared at the large bone the man removed from the younger man's chest.  He extended a hand out to help Blair up.  "You seen a guy in a leather jacket under there?"

"Leather jacket?" Sandburg repeated as he nodded.  That struck something. Someone had called his name - a guy in a leather jacket - then had knocked him, correction barrelled INTO him, knocking him down and away from a large, pointed tusk.  "Yeah, yeah.  He's over there somewhere."  He sat up, careful of some preliminary aches, and pointed to where a bunch more bones were moving.  A soft moan was heard from the pile and it moved some more, the bones falling away to reveal a man in a leather jacket.

"GAR! Thank God!"

Suddenly there were half  a dozen people standing around them.  Blair looked around at the astonished faces, finally standing up to survey the damage. Bones and twisted wire, a ladder protruding from one side of the pile, and a scattering of tools covered a large section of the marble floor.  His gaze locked with the dark-haired man in the leather jacket as they simultaneously extended their hands.

"Blair Sandburg - but, uhhh, I think you already know that.  At least that's what my ribs are telling me."

They shook hands and smiled.

"Sorry about that.  Gary Hobson...I uh...the thing was...uh..and oh, never mind."  He cast his eyes up at where the display HAD been, then quickly searched his pockets for his paper.  It wasn't on him.  He'd had it when he'd tackled....

Blair had begun searching for his pack and papers, hoping beyond hope that none of the heavy bones had damaged the laptop. *How do I explain THAT to the university insurance rep?* Kicking aside a couple of the smaller ribs, he found his pack intact, then went about picking up the loose papers.  Just his luck that the zipper would break... Spots of light burst over his eyes and he dropped to one knee just to avoid falling down completely.

"WHOAH!"

Hands caught him under the arms, and helped him back down to the floor as the paramedics took over.  Blair looked up as Chuck came to kneel next to him, Gary not far behind.

"Chuck!  Is he okay?"

Before either paramedic could answer, Blair smiled and blurted out his ailment.  "Fractured ribs..."  If there was any injury he was used to, it was that one.  Bruise, busted, or fractured, Blair knew the symptoms of all three common rib problems.  Hell, he'd experienced all of them, a couple times. From somewhere in his mind, he heard Jim's voice.  "Okay, Chief.  Just relax and let them do their job.  Do some of that breathing stuff..."

"Breathing...right."  Came the soft whisper, and four faces brightened with smiles.

~~~~~

"What were you doing in the museum that late?"  Marissa asked.

Blair smiled and sipped his coffee before answering.  "I was using the special materials in the university resource room.  I just lost track of time."

"You do that a lot?" came Chuck's voice.

Again with the smile.  "Yeah." the anthropologist laughed.  "I sometimes have to set an alarm to remind myself  to go to bed!"

"That's dedication." Marissa said, moving closer to their guest.

Blair watched the woman sipping her coffee, once again amazed at the kindness and hospitality of his rescuers.  When he'd opened his eyes this morning, he'd found the guy in the leather jacket - Gary - standing next to the hospital bed.  In the course of their conversation, Gary had revealed that Blair had indeed suffered fractured ribs, but also a slight concussion from being tackled.  They'd insisted on keeping him overnight, so Gary had taken charge of the backpack and made a few phone calls.  Blair could now sit and wait for Jim's inevitable call.  He silently thanked the time-difference for not embarassing him just yet.

At least he'd be able to tell Jim he'd been well taken care of.  Gary had picked him up that morning and taken him to his place, a bar and eatery called McGinty's.  There the young man had met Marissa, a psych student at the local college and assistant manager of the place.  The first thing he'd noticed was the braile text she'd been reading and he asked her about it.  That was how he'd found out her major.  Over breakfast, breakfast he'd insisted on cooking himself, the two had talked shop while Gary had disappeared for a while.

The other guy, Chuck, had shown up about an hour after Gary had left and had set to work.  Blair and Marissa had been engaged in a meaningful discussion on theorists when Gary had returned.  And by the looks of him, his morning disappearance had been just as eventful as his museum rescue mission.  He'd let it go, and gently included the man in their conversation, which had eventually included Chuck as well.

"Blair?" Marissa said and reached out a concerned hand for her companion, drawing him back to the conversation.  "Are you okay?"

"Sorry," he said quickly.  "I zoned..."

"Zoned?"  Chuck asked.

"Long story.  You were saying, Marissa?"

"Dedication." came the delicate voice.  "Studying so hard you have to remind yourself to go to bed.  You must want that degree pretty badly."

Blair smiled.  He hadn't told her he already had a degree - well, a few degrees.  Actually a few is three and he had four he thought... some degrees. "Yeah.  I want this one pretty badly.  I've put most of my life into it so far.."

The phone rang at that moment and Blair knew, beyond anything, that it just HAD to be Jim.  As Gary extended the reciever to him, Blair gulped some coffee for courage.  "Yeah, Jim?  Uh huh.  I know...I know...It wasn't my fault, man!  Totally someone else's fault.   That is like SO not true in this case.   You gotta believe me."

They saw their guest hide his face in his hand and laugh, trying to hide his conversation.

"That's not fair!  NO! You don't have to tell Simon...What?  You put a bet on ME?  Oh, Great!  I can see the guys at the precinct now...Sandburg's Mammoth accident...ha ha ha.  What?  No, don't do that... huh?  Oh, Simon!  How's my favorite Captain doing?"

"Captain?" Chuck mouthed to Gary.  "Precinct?"

Gary just shrugged and sipped his coffee, waiting for his guest to finish his conversation.  He wouldn't ask questions, it wasn't really his business.  He'd know something was up when he'd seen the Cascade PD Identification and the emergency contact was a Detective James Ellison.   Still, the kid didn't look like a cop to him.  Oh, well.  It didn't matter.  He just wanted to keep an eye on Blair, after all, the concussion was his fault.   Besides, things were slow that day in the paper...

"Okay, Jim.  I'll see you tomorrow at the airport.  Huh?  Okay.  Okay!" Blair said much like a child being given strict instructions he doesn't want to follow.  With as much dignity as possible, he held the phone out to Gary. "Jim, uh, wants to talk to you."

Gary took the phone with a smile, watching Blair wrap an arm around his ribs and return to sipping his coffee. "Hello?   Huh?  No, no problem.  I'm really certain it wasn't his fault.  Yeah.  Really.  Wrong place at the wrong time."

"Story of my life..." Gary heard Sandburg say at the same time as Jim.

"Right.  Well.  If I ever get to Cascade I'll be sure and look you up...Uh huh. You're welcome.  Right, Detective....Jim, then. Sure. Bye."  And with a touch of the off button, Blair stopped fidgeting and turned to look Gary in the eyes.  "He said you owe him a Bulls cap, and Captain Banks a Cubs shirt." There was a smile to Blair's eyes, Gary noted, and a slight bounce now.  "He also said that Dr. Pulaski called and that you need to go see her at the university."

"Cool!"

"Cool?"  Marissa laughed, hearing the exuberance in his voice.

"Yeah, I've been bugging Rainier, that's my University at home, to gather materials for a display of early Prusso-Siberian tribes.  Receeding glacier maps, flint and stone tools, texts on how the hierarchy was set up, rituals and the artifacts alike.   Well, Dr.Pulaski is the authoritarian in the field.  I've charmed her into letting me borrow some things..."

"Charmed?" Chuck asked with sincere interest.  He'd seen the kid in action already.  Lying there, on the marble floor, Blair had innocently flirted with the two female EMT's.  There was something about his smile, or those stuggling-student looks - maybe it was the hair- that made women swoon over him.  At the hospital, every nurse had stopped to see how he was feeling, making themselves  available" should young Mr.Sandburg need help.  "How charmed?"

Blair smiled, recognizing the classic profile of a womanizer in Chuck Fishman.  "Charmed enough to let me borrow about $1.2 million dollars worth of artifacts and literature.  Is that charmed enough for you?"

"THAT's charmed.  Hell that's bewitched!"  Chuck said and poured himself another cup of coffee.

"So what's a psychology major doing with archeological artifacts?" Marissa asked.

Blair took the seat next to her. *Truth time.* "I'm not in Psych.  That was my minor.  I'm in..."

"Anthropology..." Gary said looking up from his paper, his eyes meeting a pair of startled blue orbs.  He stuttered, reaching for anything.  "Your stuff... in your backpack...I saw it when I called Detec-uh-Jim..."  He watched the young man shrug, tuck a stray curl behind his ear then turn back to Marissa, giving her his full attention.

"I'm a graduate student, but I'm also a Teaching Fellow at Rainier, in the Anthropology department."  He said as Marissa smiled and moved closer.  "I'm working on my Ph.D."

"Chuck," Gary started, drawing his friend's attention away from the scene. "Could you join me in the other room.  I wanta check on the bar stock..." Chuck didn't want to, as he was firmly engaged in watching the Sandburg Magnetism, as he'd named it, in action.

*Gees, the smile even works on her...* he thought as he felt himself being tugged along by the sleeve.  "Gar, calm down.  What is it?"  Chuck's voice stopped as he read the paper's headline. "Visiting Anthropology Student Slain."  The picture of their new friend was displayed there on the front page, next to the story.

The two men took seats at the end of the bar as Gary read the beginnings of the story.  "Visiting Anthropologist, Blair Sandburg was fatally injured last night during a daring late night robbery at the university museum.  The young man, a Teaching Fellow and Doctoral candidate from Rainier University, was shot in the chest at close range while trying to protect his companion.   The robbery, sources say, netted some very rare and priceless artifacts being loaned out to Rainier from the museum.   Mr.Sandburg was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,' commented Dr. Eileen Pulaski, noted university professor.  Mr. Sandburg, a consultant with the Cascade Police Department, succumbed to his injury several hours later.  His body will be flown back to Washington state where he will be burried with full Police Honors."

"So, what are you gonna do about it?" Chuck asked.

"I don't know, but I'll try to think of something."  Gary said as he lead the way back to the kitchen.

"You sure I can't write you a note or something?" Blair asked eagerly.  "I mean, I AM published in the field.  It's not like you're blowing off the class - just doing a little independent study."

Marissa just laughed and shook her head.  "Sorry, Blair, but I never miss my classes.  Being there is so much more helpful than a recording.  I don't know how to explain it, it just...sounds different."

*No need to explain that one.* he thought.  "I understand, believe me. Sensory development is well understood on my part.  They say that when you lose one sense, the others enhance to compensate.  How's your tactile responses?"  At that, Blair placed Marissa's one hand between his two.

"Tactile responses?  I'm loving it!" Chuck whispered to Gary.  "He's a pro!  I should be taking notes."  And with that, he started looking for some paper and a pen.

Marissa turned herself around to face Chuck.  "Set your butt down and get a glass of water.  Better yet, a bucket - and stick your head in it."

"I HATE it when she does that."

Blair looked up at Gary who was just staring pitifully at the other man.  "I told you.  The others enhance to keep you balanced, protected.  The ancient Amazons believed that blindness was caused by gods and goddesses taking human eyes to spy on mortals.  In exchange, the blind were given other gifts - heightened senses, legendary beauty, immense widom." His thumb caressed her hand, he smiled with his voice and finished his thought.  "You must have been especially favored..."

Chuck and Marissa BOTH sighed and Gary didn't know which one was more impressed with their guest.

"It's a shame you've got class tonight, Marissa." Gary said, suddenly smiling.  "How about dinner here, Blair?  On the house."

Pulling his hair back to a small ponytail, the anthropologist smiled up at his new friends.  "Uhhh.  I'd love to, but I don't know.  I've got quite a bit of studying left to do in those old books.  I'll probably be late.  And I don't want to put you out.  You've done enough already.  I don't know how I'm gonna repay you as it is..."

"Not a problem." Gary started.  "Just doing my..er..uh....what I had to...do..."  He'd almost slipped up.  Almost said something about the paper. If Sandburg had caught it, he hadn't said anything.  In fact, for a guy who worked with the Police, he didn't ask about the encounter at all.

"Man!  I've gotta go!   I'm supposed to be at the museum in like half an hour.  I think I can just make it if I run for the El..."  Grabbing his pack and jacket, Blair was already counting his change for the train as he stood up.

"I'll drive you." Chuck volunteered to everyone's surprise.  "It'll give us a chance to talk..."

Gary and Blair exchanged knowing glances, but Blair knew better than to turn down the hospitality.  Receiving a familiar cuff on the shoulder, Blair was out the back door with a single glance and wary smile to Gary.

~~~~~

Blair looked at his watch as he walked back up the steps to the museum.  He'd spent the better part of the day reading his texts and taking his notes. Thanks to Melody, one of the young interns, he'd been able to scan some of the pictures into the laptop with the museum equipment.  He smiled and patted his pocket where he kept her business card tucked inside.  Around dinner time, the young man had been surprised to find Gary standing on the opposite side of the table, sorting through the books.  True to his offer, dinner was on the house which meant on Gary.  They'd talked about Blair's research and his job with the Cascade PD, as well as Gary's story on how he'd gotten the bar and his life before as a stockbroker.  Through the dinner conversation, Blair had gotten the idea that he wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last that Gary had helped out.  From experience, Blair knew not to question other people's gifts.  After all, he and Jim had their own gifts and secrets to keep.  When the meal had ended, Chuck had driven him back to the museum.  Blair laughed as he remembered the conversation which centered on Blair's techiniques with women...

His laughter echoed back at him as he crossed the large hall, his gaze automatically searching for and finding the curtain hiding the mammoth rubble.   He wasn't positive, but he thought he even heard the sounds of workers behind the curtain.  He laughed again.  Several stares followed him as the anthropologist shrugged in apology and started up the steps towards the second floor and the resource room.

As he sat back down at the table, opening the old and musty books, Blair knew he'd never be able to repay the kindness.  It wasn't just saving his life - fact was, if Gary hadn't knocked him out of the way, Blair would have been speared by that falling Mammoth tusk.  Not only had Gary saved his life, but his dignity too.

~~~~~

Chuck actually bounced as he came through the door.  Spotting Gary sitting at the end of the bar, he hung up his jacket and took a seat.  "Buddy boy, you better just watch out..."

Gary smiled at his friend.  Chuck was the kind of guy to get excited once a day about any number of things.  "So what's got you in such a good mood?"

He removed the card from his pocket kissed it and replaced it in the shirt pocket.  "Good mood?  I'm in a GREAT mood.  Thanks to Lacey...Officer Lacey Hamilton.  Ahhhh.  I got pulled over."

"You got a ticket and you're HAPPY?"  A couple close patrons laughed, as did Gary during his question.

"I DIDN'T get a ticket.  That's why I'm happy.  Thank you Blair Sandburg...The kid is a genius..."

At that, Gary laughed and cuffed his friend on the shoulder.  Chuck just went on.

"Really.  He's a genius.  He's got a 183 IQ, well on his way to completing his PhD, and his advice" he patted his pocket. "his advice works miracles."

"You talked your way out of a ticket?  In Chicago?"  There was amazement in the patron's voice.

"Out of the ticket, and into a date...thank you."

Gary shook his head and returned to his beer, watching as the waitress brought Chuck an open beer and a note.

"Chuck, " she started.  "Marissa called and said you didn't need to pick her up from school tonight."

"She get out early?" he questioned, seeing the look on Gary's face.

"No, she said someone named Blair was meeting her after class and they were going for coffee."  She handed Chuck the note, even though she'd just delivered the message to him.

Before Chuck could re-read the note for himself, Gary had picked up the paper, turning it immediately to his friend.

"Two Slain in Museum Robbery."  The headline was accompanied by two pictures - Blair's and Marissa's.

~~~~~

*Why does this stuff always happen to me?* Blair asked himself as he looked down the barrell of the gun.  "C'mon, man.  Take the wallet and the laptop. It's the only thing I have worth anything."

"I don't want that junk." came the gravelly voice.  "Where's the stuff for the university, professor?  The artifacts?"

His heartrate increasing, Blair took a deep breath and edged himself in front of Marissa who stood on the other side of the large, wooden table.  They'd gotten their coffee and walked back to the museum, the anthropologist hoping to spend some more time with the lovely young woman.  At the very least, he could engage her in conversation about psychology.  At best, he'd get some feedback on her senses and maybe a foot in the door towards a new relationship.  As the two had been laughing over one of his innumerable stories, Marissa's four-footed guide had mysteriously taken off, whining and barking.  Blair had made ready to run after the animal when the gunman had appeared in the doorway.

"Where's the stuff?" the voice pushed, bringing Blair back to the present.

"D-dd-dd-downstairs in shipping. I had them pack it up so I could take it to the airport with me tomorrow."  His mind was racing, struggling between getting Marissa out of the situation and getting himself out alive.  "I'll take you down, just let her stay here.  You've obviously taken care of her dog.  She's immobile without him.."

Marissa didn't like the timbre to Blair's voice.  It scared her that he seemed to have been through this type of situation before.  She felt the air move against her face, letting her know that someone was close.  A small sniff and her nose confirmed it was Blair, his cologne ever so subtle against the smell of his shampoo.

"She goes with us."  The gun motioned the two out of the room, the gunman following them out.  "And just to make sure you cooperate, I'll be more than happy to assist her..."  He quickly stepped up next to the woman, grabbing her and pulling her ribs into the nose of the gun for emphasis.  "No heroics, Galahad.  Now move."

~~~~~

"DAMMIT!"  Chuck cursed as he snapped the phone shut.  "It's past closing hours - I got the automessage."  He pushed the phone back into his pocket, casting a quick glance over to Gary.

"No...you don't understand.  There's someone in the museum with a gun!  And he's after some priceless artifacts..."  Once again, Gary fumed at the 9-1-1 service.  Wasn't anyone ever going to just blindly believe someone?  "Hello?? No!  I've tried the museum number...Hello?  HELLO?  They hung up."

Gary ran a hand over his face, pushing his phone into his own pocket and watching out the window as Chuck drove wildly towards the museum.  He pulled the paper out, checking to see if anything had changed.  "Nothing..."

Chuck tried to look at the paper in his friend's hand while trying to negotiate Saturday night traffic in Chicago. *Gees, is this what O'Hare is like?* Giving up on the paper, he focused his attention on the traffic.  A few minutes later, he parked them safely behind the building, in the area of the loading dock.

"Where are we headed?"

"It says the man got in through a rear maintenance entrance."  Pulling out a flashlight, Gary spotted the door, propped open by a large bone underneath the door handle.  "You gotta be kidding me..."

~~~~~

"Which one is it?"

Blair just shook his head.  There were several large crates labeled for shipping out.  Unfortunately, they were labelled by a code number and not their destination.  Each was stencilled with the museum and university name, but none had actual addresses.  "I'll have to find the shipping records and see if the addresses correspond to one of these numbers.  It's gonna take a few minutes."

"S'okay.  I'll just keep the little lady company."

Marissa felt the gun press forward, the slight pain causing her to take a deep breath.  She took another, then stumbled sideways, her hands grasping the arm and shoulder of their captor.  She was only slightly surprised at the rather high-pitched yelp as her fingers dug into the gunman's arm a little too hard.

Blair turned around quickly, thinking it had been Marissa needing help.  It was all he could do to hide his smile, even going so far as to bite his lower lip, as he realized just how resourceful his date was.  Grabbing the shipping dockets, Blair quickly matched the numbers on the crates with their respective invoices.  It was the last invoice and the crate behind all the rest. Evidently, they'd lined them up by time of pick-up, burrying the Rainier shipment for mid-afternoon.   "I've got it..."  His voice echoed.

~~~~~

"Didja hear that?"  Chuck whispered.  "It's the kid..."

~~~~~

The echo caught his ear as he headed towards the office.

"Bernie!"  Charlie yelled down the hall.  "Did you leave the back door open again?"

His sheepish grin gave away the truth.  "I know how the lacquer fumes bother you, so I propped it open..."

~~~~~

So there they stood, Chuck and Gary opposite Blair, Marissa, and their captor.

"Okay."  Chuck said raising his arms in the air as the gun threatened him from a few yards away.  "What's the paper say about this, Gar?"

He would've answered his friend, but the paper was in his hand which was over his head at the moment.

"Over here, you two." came the voice, accompanied by a wave of the gun. "Looks like we've got a party."

The two men walked carefully toward Sandburg, observing the grip the masked man had on Marissa's arm.  They were so intent on their friends, and the gunman on them, that no one seemed to notice the crates moving behind them.

The sounds of a palette jack squeeking around distracted everyone, but Blair and Marissa.  It took only a second to register with Gary, but once he saw the movement, he tried to rush forward.  The gunman pushed Marissa forward as a diversion then turned to run, popping off a couple rounds over their shoulder as they headed out a side door.

"MARISSA!!!"  Three voices called at once, but only one body reached her in time.

~~~~~

"Yeah?" came the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Uhm - Jim?"

~~~~~

"Oh, man!  I do NOT believe this!"  Blair mumbled as he signed the hospital release papers.  Three smiling faces met him as he turned around.  "Jim is NEVER going to let me out of his sight again."

"How're the ribs?" Marissa asked, her arms coming up gently around her new champion.  "You didn't do any more damage, did you?"

"Nah." He replied, not really feeling the pain of her hands on his ribs.

"You're lying, I can tell."  She whispered.

"I'm just sure you can."  His smile, as usual, was reflected in his voice. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying."

"Is that what you were thinking when you charged the guy with the gun?"

"Woman." Marissa stated.  "Woman with a gun."

Chuck caught the serious look on her face. "You're positive?"

"Very!" she replied with a slight smile.

"And I'll back her up on that..."  Blair said quietly.  "But that'll wait until tomorrow.  Could I trouble someone for a ride back to my hotel?"

"For you?" Chuck started with a wide smile.  "Anything..  I'll go get the car."

He walked out just as Gary walked back to them.  "I've got your prescription, here.  Are you all signed out?"  He smiled seeing Blair's cautious nod. "Well," he continued, staring at the white sling that held Blair's left arm. "Could've been worse."

"Oh, it will be by morning." the young man replied a bit downheartedly.

"Why's that?" Gary asked.

"Cause Jim'll be here by then..."

~~~~~

They didn't have to wait till morning.  Chuck had driven all four of them to Blair's hotel, where they found Detective James Ellison sitting in the lobby. A quick round of introductions and good nights, and the two partners made their way to the room.  Before he left, Gary made Jim promise to come by McGinty's first thing in the morning.

"Well, Chief.  You wanta explain now?  Or wait for your greek chorus to help you in the morning?"

"Funny, Jim.  Real funny.  I'm like injured, you know.  You could at least spare me some sympathy."  There was a grunt, then a familiar hand on his good shoulder.

"Alright, Junior.  Let me have a look at the shoulder and the ribs, and then we'll get some shut-eye."

~~~~~

The police were waiting for the partners as they stepped through the bar door.  It had been much too late the night before, and Blair had needed immediate medical attention.  The police had made an appointment with Marissa for the next morning - well, LATER that morning as it was past midnight anyway at that time.    So, when Blair and Jim arrived, they went immediately into giving statements.

Jim monitored his partner, making sure the questioning didn't stress him. True, the bullet had only grazed his shoulder, but it had left a six inch gash that had required quite a few stitches.  And as usual, Blair the purist refused to take any painkillers, not even for the fractured ribs.

"Now, Ms.Clark," the officer started.  "You're positive it was a woman?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you mind if I ask HOW you know?"

She took a leisurely sip of her coffee then answered.  "I kinda stumbled into her and she let out a very HIGH-pitched yelp.  I dug my fingernails into her arm, too.  So if you find someone with nail-type bruising on their left forearm, that's your criminal."

Jim caught the slight bounce to his friend.  He had to admit, she'd used her head about it.  Very ingenious.

"Is there anything else that makes you believe the perp was a woman?"  The second officer ventured.

"Plenty.  If it was a man, he's got some eccentricities.  The  perp' was wearing perfume - one of those expensive kinds sold at the big department stores.  Oh, and if you still insist on searching for a man, he's a crossdresser."

" Scuse me?"

"My one hand went to her shoulder - I definitely felt a strap there.  Like to a lady's undergarment?"

Four men watched two officers blush right down to their socks.  And they were proud of it, too.  Marissa had been able to describe the woman's height, approximate build and now her smell.  Certainly, the perp was a woman.

"Would you agree with Ms.Clark?" the one officer directed to Blair.

"I wasn't as close as she was, but yes.  I think you're definitely looking for a woman."

Gary watched the scene, sneaking a peak at the story on the front page of his paper.  He was scanning the write-up when something caught his eye.  A small piece of information that he'd missed earlier that morning.  The sound of the door caught his ear and he turned to see a woman in a perfectly groomed suit approach the officers.

"Dr. Pulaski.  Hi."  The anthropologist stammered.

"They called the museum curator about the incident.  I didn't find out until I got to work this morning...Are you alright?"  She stood next to the table. "What happened?"

In as little detail as possible, Blair gave over the story, ending with taking the bullet as he knocked Marissa out of the way.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble..." The doctor said as she took Marissa's hand.

The men watched as Marissa stood to shake the doctor's hand, then excused herself.  Chuck was at her side as she maneuvered towards the kitchen door. "Chuck," she whispered.  "Do me a favor and get Spike.  Keep him in the kitchen for a minute, then let him see her...  Don't ask now, just do it."

"Right away, Detective." and he smiled, leaving her to rejoin the others.

Jim had heard the rise in heartrate, zeroing in on Dr.Pulaski. *Now, what has she got to be nervous about?* He followed the woman's gaze to Marissa, who was making her way back to the table.  She took a bit of a longer route, stumbling a step as she did.  The two officers immediately went to assist, helping her back to the table.  Blair and Jim exchanged glances as Jim stood to take Marissa's hand and help her into his seat.

"I just stepped the wrong way.  I think my shoelace is untied.  Jim, could you check it for me?"

As he knelt down, Marissa fussed over him.  "It's her.  She's wearing the same perfume."

Jim patted her foot.  He'd understood almost as soon as Blair that Marissa was onto something.  That's when he'd opened his senses up and smelled it - Gunpowder.  As he knelt behind the woman, he'd confirmed it was on her hands. "There you go.  Right again."

"Tell me, Dr.Pulaski."Gary started, moving closer to the action.  "Just how much is all that stuff worth?  I mean.  Blair gave us an estimate, but what's it really worth - what's it insured for?"

"2.5 million, why?"

Jim and Marissa turned towards the low growl in the kitchen.  Suddenly, both Spike and Chuck came smacking through the doors.  The dog heading to intercept on Marissa's behalf.  He stood there, teeth bared and growling ferociously. Dogs locked in closets remember their captors.

Pulaski had nowhere to run.  With the officers on one side, Spike on the other, her escape to the doorway was blocked.  She did the only thing she could.  She called for a lawyer.

~~~~~

"So she was planning on knocking you off, blaming the robbery on art thieves, and funelling the money into her pocket.  But why?"  Chuck asked.

"I got a good look at the materials today." Blair said as he took a seat in the booth.  "It's good quality, but it's mostly fake.  Pulaski had already sold the pieces to private collectors for big money.  Then replaced them with fakes hoping they would never be found.  Then I show up.  She knew once the materials were out of the museum, they'd be spotted.  She confessed that her original idea was to frame ME.  But she decided not to when she found out I was affiliated with Cascade PD."

Jim smiled, proud of his partner, even if the kid HAD dragged his overworked butt all the way to Chicago.  "Well, at least she was smart about one thing..."  They laughed at that.  "So, Gary.  What made you ask about the insurance?"

He stopped in mid-sip.  "Oh...uh....just a hunch.  Most robberies are for insurance money...At least that's what the paper always says."

"And Marissa," Jim said, holding her hand and kissing it.  "A lovely piece of detective work on your part.  I especially liked your idea of letting Spike identify her."

"Hey, Jim..." Sandburg said with a raised eyebrow.

"Alright, Chief."  The men smirked at the rivalry.  "So, who's got the tickets to the game?"

"I do." Chuck announced then held out the basketball tickets.  "Bulls Vs. Jags.  Gar?  You coming?"

All eyes were on the man as he smiled and looked at the paper in front of him.  Well, it was Sunday - his day off, a decision made quite a while ago.  "Sure.  I don't seem to have any plans."

Everyone stood but Blair and Marissa.

"Hey Chief," Jim started in a normal voice, then finished in a whisper as he ruffed his partner's hair and headed for the door.  "Gentlemen, prepare to see some REAL ball playing.  Orvelle Wallace has these guys at PEAK performance..."

"Care to wager on that, Buddy?" came Chuck's defensive reply.

Blair watched the men leave, then turned his attention to Marissa, who sat smiling to herself.  "So, what did Jim say?"

"He said NOT to go to the museum on our date... Said you were a walking trouble magnet..."

~~~The end~~~

Email the author: wnnepooh@erols.com
 

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