Word Count:
1,255
Rating:
PG.
Category: Angst.
Story Status:
Complete
Summary: After
TSbyBS. Jim thinks Blair is leaving, but is he?
Beta: Thank
you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading.
The Settlement
By Leesa Perrie
He’s leaving, I know he is. I can tell; the little
signs. I can… feel
it. I thought he was staying, but it seems I was
wrong.
He’s leaving, just like almost everyone else. And
those
that don’t leave, I push away. Have I finally
pushed him
away? I didn’t mean to, or at least I
don’t think I
meant to. I thought we’d sorted things
out. I thought
he was staying. After all, Cascade is his territory, as much
as
it is mine. The Loft is his home, in all but name.
He is
the Shaman; my Shaman, my Guide.
But can I blame him? After all that I said and did?
And how
did I fix it? A few words of praise in the hospital and the
offer
of becoming my partner. But did I say I was sorry? That I
wanted,
needed, him
to stay? My Guide, my Shaman, my partner, my friend, my soul?
I’m no good at words. Well, no, I’m quite
good with
words actually. Just the wrong kind of words; words of anger,
fear, betrayal; not words of friendship, brotherhood, love. Sorrow.
So he’s leaving, even though he said he wanted to be my
official
partner. Even though Simon pulled some strings so he
didn’t
have to cut his hair – after all, he’ll be going
straight
into Major Crimes, not on patrol first. He even said
he’d
deal with the gun thing, learn to cope with carrying one, even using it
when necessary.
I thought he was staying. He said he was. But I
know
he’s leaving. And I can’t blame him, even
though I
want to. Even though I want to grab him and shake him until
his
teeth rattle, and shout that he can’t leave me now!
Part of
me wants to handcuff him to something in the loft until he agrees to
stay, but another part just wants him gone. Wants everything
to
be over. So I can lick my wounds and never trust anyone
again,
knowing I was a fool to do so in the first place.
I hear the elevator doors open, and the familiar sound of my
Guide. And catch the smell of… burgers? Fries?
Wonder
Burger? Oh no, he’s going to tell me
tonight. The
food is the eye before the storm – the pleasure before the
knife
twists in my guts.
I can’t do this! But I must.
The door opens.
“Hey Jim.” He enters the Loft, heading for the
kitchen with the bags of food.
“Hey Chief,” I reply, casual. This is
Sandburg’s game, not mine. “What’s with
the
food?”
“Oh, I thought you might like a treat, you know, after, well,
after everything…” he trails off, uncertainly.
“Thanks, Chief.”
We set the table, and Sandburg dishes out the food. I notice
he
has a salad from the deli, whilst I have a Wonder Burger with all the
extras and fries.
“Not hungry, Chief?”
“Oh, I just fancied something light and healthy,
that’s
all.” And there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes,
as he
looks pointedly at my plate. I shake my head, and continue
demolishing my food.
The meal continues in silence, not so unusual these days.
There
doesn’t seem to be much to say any more. Maybe
that’s
part of the problem, part of why he wants to leave.
After we’ve eaten, cleared away the dishes and washed up,
working
together as only a well-oiled team can, we retire to the
couch.
He looks tense, uncertain, nervous and his heart’s beating a
tattoo in his chest.
“You’re leaving.” Crap, I
didn’t mean to blurt
that out. He looks at me in surprise, and then looks away and
sighs.
“What makes you think that, Jim?” he asks, not
looking at me.
“Little things. Like not bringing the stuff from
your
office back here. Like the clutter in your room slowly
disappearing. I don’t know, other things.
I just feel
it, somehow. Am I wrong?” Please, let me
be wrong.
He sighs again. Still not looking at me.
“Yes, I’m leaving.” My heart plummets.
“But it’s not like you think.”
“Where are you going? No, where are we
going?” He looks up in surprise at that.
“I’ll go
with you, Chief, where ever you want to go.” Don’t
leave
me, please.
He smiles. And then he laughs. How can he laugh?
“Oh, I was thinking about this place I’ve heard
of.
Heard a rumour that it has seven different kinds of rain and that it
just might be the most dangerous city in America.
It’s not
far from here. In fact,” he pauses, a twinkle in his eye,
“It’s not far at all. Called Cascade and
it’s
in Washington State. Ever heard of it?”
I smile. He’s staying in Cascade. Relief washes
through me, followed quickly by uncertainty.
“But then where are you going?”
Blair looks thoughtful.
“Well, you see, Naomi contacted a lawyer friend, who
persuaded
Berkshire Publishing to make a reasonable settlement rather than face a
law suit. It’s not enough to make me rich, but
enough to
pay back my student loans, get the Volvo fixed up and buy myself an
apartment in an okay part of town.”
I look at him in surprise.
“You didn’t say anything about the
settlement.”
“I didn’t want to, not until it was a done
deal. And
the apartment, well, I wasn’t sure how to tell you or how you
would react, so… well, I guess I’ve been putting
it
off.” Sandburg looked sheepish, and also nervous.
Unsure of
my reaction. I took a deep sigh.
“Okay. I can understand that. But why
move out? You don’t need to.” I don’t
want you to.
“I know. But, well, we’re going to be working
together as
well as living together, and I think it might be too much. I
mean, I know we’ve been doing that to a large extent already,
but
I’ve always had other commitments and I’ve been
able to go
to my office in Rainier if I needed some space.
That’s not
gonna happen now. I figured it would be better to have a
little
distance, you know, just so we don’t end up getting on each
other’s nerves too much.”
This was said at speed. One of those things I find both
endearing
and annoying about him, his ability to talk fast and long.
Though
this was actually short by Sandburg standards. I could also
see
his point, but, damn it, I didn’t want him to
leave. But do I say that?
“So, where is this apartment of yours?” Please let
it be near, not the other side of Cascade.
“Oh, I found a nice place not far from here.
Actually, it
couldn’t be much closer, come to think of it,” he
pauses
and smiles again, “It’s at 852 Prospect.
I think you
know the building in question?” He looks at me. I raise an
eyebrow, and he laughs. “Apartment 306, right next
door.” He smiles in triumph, though I can detect
he’s
still unsure of my reaction.
“Next door, eh?” I smile, relief flooding through
me. “I guess that’s not too far from here.
But, you know, you’ll have this neighbour who’s
real sensitive
to noise. Do you think you can cope?”
“I don’t know, man. Do you think he will
cope?”
We smile. Everything’s going to be okay.
It’s going
to work out. It has to, I won’t have it any other
way.
“So, when do you move in, and do you need any help?”
