Shadows and Siege 20/20--Conclusion!!!!!
Shadows and Siege 1
Shadows and Siege 2
Shadows and Siege 3
Shadows and Siege 4
Shadows and Siege 5
Shadows and Siege 6
Shadows and Siege 7
Shadows and Siege 8
Shadows and Siege 9 Shadows and Siege 10
Shadows and Siege 11
Shadows and Siege 12
Shadows and Siege 13
Shadows and Siege 14
Shadows and Siege 15
Shadows and Siege 16
Shadows and Siege 17
Shadows and Siege 18
I can't believe it, but I'M DONE!!!!
HERE IS THE CLIMAX!! I posted it Tuesday night, so you probably haven't read it yet (Chapter 19)
"Good of you two to show up again," Simon said as he met them at the door to the loft. "And next time, find someone else to pick up your mail. Your neighbor called 911 on me. The guys at the precinct are still giving me shit about that."
"Mrs. Pitman?" Blair asked as he dropped his bag in his attempt to fish the key out of his pocket. Simon already had his own key to the loft out, and Jim just thanked god he didn't have to try for his own key. He didn't have a free hand, and after three days of physically requalifying, he didn't have the energy to try fight with his bags. Hell, he'd been too tired to do more than fall asleep on Blair in an aborted effort to have sex. Carolyn would have castrated him if he'd fallen asleep on her that often.
"Is that the deaf old bat who keeps leaving rotting garbage in the hall?" Jim asked wearily as Simon opened the door.
"That's the one," Blair agreed. "She's really a nice woman, Simon." Jim gave Blair a sharp look. "Fine, so she has a few issues," Blair admitted.
"Issues? The woman is a racist," Simon growled as Jim pushed the door closed with his shoulder.
"That would be one of her issues. Oh man, just don't mention the Shoah unless you really want to hear some scary stuff. I'm thinking the woman was married to a Nazi."
"I think she was one," Jim said as he dropped his suitcase and then draped his garment bag over the back of the couch.
Simon glared at it. "For someone who got called out for some mysterious national emergency, you packed well."
"That's new," Blair said mysteriously as he headed for the refrigerator, and Jim glared at Blair. He really hadn't wanted to get into this tonight, but now Simon was giving Jim a look that made it clear he was not leaving until he had the whole story. Unfortunately, Jim was never going to be able to give him the whole story.
"Simon, you are a god among men," Blair said gratefully as he held up two bottles of beer that Jim knew hadn't been there when they'd left. Blair brought him one, and Jim smiled at his partner before taking a drink.
Simon snorted. "Stop changing the topic."
Bracing himself, Jim reached over and unzipped the front of the garment bag to show the dress uniform inside. Simon didn't even bother to say anything as he just waited with his arms crossed.
"Oh man, you should see him in it," Blair said with a wink, and Jim just thanked god that Simon was ignoring Blair as being his normal borderline-inappropriate self because Jim really only wanted to have one major conversation tonight.
"Detective?" Simon finally asked.
"It's a long story, Simon." Jim just headed for the chair and collapsed into it, trying not to notice how sore his left thigh was. Qualifying had seemed much easier a decade ago. "Let's just say this was more convenient than having someone randomly reactivate my commission every few months."
"Shit." Simon sat heavily on the arm of the couch. "When you were gone so long, I called Sandburg's friend at the university. He said there was some strange chatter in the covert communities about Cascade, but I was hoping that for once you two had managed to duck when the shit hit the fan."
Jim glanced over at Blair, and the kid lost it, laughing either at the memory of Jack O'Neill splattered with shit or just because they were so exhausted that everything was funny. Even Jim had to chuckle.
"All right, whatever you two hens are cackling about, I don't want to know. What I want to know is how this is going to affect you two. Are you leaving Cascade?"
"We're committed to eight weeks a year, Simon, unless something goes horribly wrong," Jim shrugged.
"Something like... wait, I don't want to know," Simon quickly added, holding his hand up.
"For once, it's not me; it's him," Jim said as he pointed his beer bottle at Blair. Blair mouthed the word 'traitor' at him, but all was fair in love and dealing with Simon.
Simon pinned Blair with his gaze, and Blair rolled his eyes. "Fine, so it's me this time. Last time covert ops people were sniffing around, it was so your fault," Blair said with a finger poke Jim's direction. Jim couldn't exactly argue.
"Sandburg," Simon said darkly.
"The Air Force has three Sentinels. And man, they so do not know what to do with them. I mean, monumental levels of stupidity, Simon."
Jim leaned back and listened to Blair weave his obfuscations. The Air Force commanded the SGC, but the first three Sentinels would be from three different branches, and they hadn't even been picked yet. The poor suckers didn't even know they were Sentinels, but Jim would be explaining the joys of waking up to the sound of the neighbor's dog's stomach growling. And he'd have that conversation before they agreed to the training that brought their senses online.
"Stupidity is the norm for the military, Sandburg," Simon pointed out dryly.
"Whatever. Turns out the Air Force and half the world have copies of my not-for-publication dissertation."
"Shit. And they picked Jim up," Simon cursed. "Because of your dissertation. Damn it, Sandburg, you said that thing would be buried so deep Jimmy Hoffa wouldn't ever see it."
Jim was almost touched at how angry the captain was, except that he was directing that anger at Blair, which made Jim more than a little uncomfortable. An urge to get up and shove Simon right out of the loft warred with his general apathy and sore body. A twinge in his left leg settled it, and Jim decided to let Blair fight his own battles.
"This is so not my fault. Jim sent someone a copy... and then my mother did, and the person she probably sent it to was a publisher who wanted to take it to press, and the NID... never mind," Blair dismissed the whole mess with a wave of his hand, and Simon went from angry to confused in one second flat. Jim hid a smile behind his beer bottle. "Look, that's water under the bridge. The Air Force just needs someone to come in every few months and work with these guys, help them get settled before the military gets their senses so screwed up they can't smell their way to a cookie factory."
"And Jim?"
"Simon, you remember that friend of Blair's who was murdered on campus a couple of years back?"
Simon nodded. "Bad case all around." Suddenly Simon's eyes narrowed, and Jim really wished he had not brought that up because Simon was sharp... he was very sharp, and Jim just did not need him making connections here.
Jim shook his head, "I don't know anything about the shooter, Simon. My point was that all that week I felt uncomfortable and cranky. Hell, Blair came home one day, and I didn't recognize his smell. I thought he was an intruder and I put a gun in his face."
"You what?" Simon was on his feet, and Jim had to hide another smile behind a poker face. Simon might grump and grouch, but he cared about Blair more than he would ever admit.
"Chill out, Simon," Blair immediately stepped in. "It's not like he did anything other than scare the piss out of me and then apologize for about a month. Man, he's welcome to stick his gun in my face again if it gets me a week straight of fresh donuts delivered to my room every morning. Besides, it was a territory thing. Two Sentinels... they need to look each other in the eye, check each other out, you know."
"Two dogs sniffing each other's butts?" Simon interpreted, and Jim turned his coldest glare onto Simon. Unfortunately the captain was immune. He just looked back with amusement making his lips twitch. "So, Blair is doing the work with the Sentinels, and you're there to sniff butts and threaten them," Simon checked.
"Simon, it's late and my shitty mood is getting shittier by the second," Jim warned him.
"We can talk tomorrow," Simon said as he headed for the door. "I'm glad you two are back, and we can figure out something to do with scheduling in the morning." He paused by the garment bag and pulled the plastic up a bit. "Jim, is this your uniform?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I thought you left the service a captain."
"I got promoted, and Simon, that really is a story you do not want to hear." For a second, Simon stood by the couch fingering the plastic on the bag and looking concerned.
"Jim, if you need anything."
"Simon, it's fine. These men... they could be me. I can't say I'm thrilled about having to put my cases on hold every few months, but when I compare that to letting some kid end up in an insane asylum because no one knows how to help him with his senses, it's a fair trade." Jim pushed himself up and realized that he meant that. He wasn't just responsible for Cascade anymore. The Sentinels he and Sandburg would teach would have to protect the Earth. Simon, Daryl, Naomi, Henri, Steven, Joel... everyone they cared about would rely on the SGC and the teams to keep the world free.
Simon nodded, still not looking happy, but willing to accept that. "So, I'm going to have to share you with one more department," Simon said with a disgusted look in Blair's direction. "I just hope Peterson over in Vice realizes that any time you take off is coming off his scheduled time."
"Love you, too, man," Blair told Simon, but he came and stood next to Jim's and leaned against him.
"You two," Simon said with a resigned shake of his head. "I'll see you tomorrow. And get some sleep; you both look ready to collapse." And with that, Simon headed out the door.
"I hate not telling him," Blair said softly as he slipped a hand around Jim's waist, and Jim let his arm drape over Blair's shoulders.
"Me too, Chief, but he doesn't need to be in the middle of this."
Blair just nodded. "I'm wiped. You ready for bed?"
Jim nodded absent-mindedly, annoyed as something teased the edge of his senses. Walking over to the balcony doors, he slid them open and scanned the street until he saw her leaning against a car far down the street.
"Jim?" Blair asked.
"Our escort tonight is a special one, Chief. Say 'hi' to Nikita."
"Aw, fuck. Man, I am too tired. There is a one kidnapping per month rule on this guide," Blair said as he leaned into Jim's side.
Jim could see Nikita smile from two blocks away, so she obviously either had the loft bugged or she was using a directional mike. "I'm not here to do anything other than make sure others who are watching know that you're important enough to warrant personal attention," she said so softly that a person standing next to her on the street would have strained to hear her, but Jim could hear clearly. He repeated Nikita's words as Blair studied the black night unable to even see the car that Nikita was leaning against.
"You're going to keep trading our services for tech until... until what?" Blair asked into the night. Jim flinched. If he had to face harsh truths, he'd rather do it on a little more sleep and maybe a home-cooked meal.
"Until I can't get any more out of them, and then I'll protect you for free, but don't tell them that," Nikita said with a small shrug. "It's funny, but they're still trying to protect their bit of turf... their country, their constituency. It's my job to make sure the pieces fit together, and the tech will help keep things in balance. However, that doesn't make you two expendable. I can't help them up there. I can only make sure they have the pieces they need to get that job done." Nikita looked up at the barely visible stars and the pale moon struggling to shine through the heavy clouds. Jim repeated the words for Blair, feeling odd at having such an intimate conversation across two blocks. If there were watchers, they were getting all of this.
Blair frowned at Jim in confusion when Jim finished. "But does she-" Blair just stopped.
"Chief, I can't pretend to understand her," Jim said. He looked back toward the street, and the car was pulling away from the curb, and Nikita was nowhere in sight. "She's gone."
Blair sighed and moved so that he was in front of Jim, holding him, and Jim rested his cheek on Blair's head, focusing on the scent of his exhausted guide and the steady beat of his heart. "Do you think one day we'll be able to look back and say, 'Hey, this is where we made the right decision,' or 'This is where we fucked up and we should have run for Peru?'" Blair asked softly.
"I don't know, Chief." Jim just stood with Blair in his arms for several minutes. The night was so quiet that Jim could track each person who wandered near the building. Mrs. Pitman was down by the garbage cans muttering in German. A couple of kids were spraying graffiti on the next building over. A man was sitting on a bench turning the pages of a newspaper. "Do you think we're doing the right thing? Right now, no trying to predict the future or outguess Section. Are we doing the right thing?" Jim asked.
Blair didn't answer right away, but his hands tightened around Jim's waist. "I want to help them. I can't stand the thought of what it must feel like to be called obsolete and aggressive and to be left in a zone because someone labeled it a seizure."
Jim knew that Blair was thinking of him, of what would have happened if Jim's senses hadn't gone back offline after Peru. When Jim had first come out of the Army, he was so angry that he couldn't even imagine what that type of disability would have done to him. And if the Army had ordered him to 'bond' the way the NID man had implied they ordered their Sentinels to... he would have eaten his gun.
"Yeah, I think we're doing the right thing," Blair eventually said.
"Then we don't worry about the rest, Chief. We're doing the same thing everyone else is: building a life and hoping some random event doesn't tear it down before we can finish. We'll be fine." Blair turned his head so that his face was buried in Jim's chest, and Jim knew his partner was hiding his fear. Jim just held on a little tighter and stared up at the stars. He thought they were doing the right thing, too, and if time proved them wrong, it wouldn't be the first time the universe laughed at Jim Ellison's expense. As long as he got to keep Blair, he would just laugh right back.
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