InsaneJournal

Blair pulled the Corvair up in front of the old farm house with the yellow siding and white shutters, the curtains waving behind the open windows. Staring up at the house Blair muttered distractedly, "Damn, she is going to gloat I just know it." He sighed then said bracingly to himself, "Well, might as well get it over with." He took one more deep breath, then as he let it out slowly, got out of the car.

o-O-o

“…and that’s when I decided that I had to do something about all the notes and things. I couldn’t let this keep going.” Blair sipped his tea with one hand, setting the cup down so that he could pick up his cookie to take a bite. His other hand was occupied with stroking and petting Wordsworth as the large Maine Coon lounged on the chair next to him.

“Where is it all now?” asked Diane as she lifted Poe, the yappy Siamese, off of the table and into her lap as she sat nearby.

“I packed it all up and stuck it in the back of my car. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to store it here, in your attic.” Diane canted her head to the side in question and Blair quickly explained, “I still have to do tests and research for Jim, to be sure that he’s not lacking anywhere. But I don’t want any of that research, the test results, the ideas, any of it to see the light of day. It would be safer here than anywhere else while I’m still working on it.”

Diane nodded her understanding and Blair moved the boxes to the attic. He kissed her cheek on his way out. “I’d stay and talk some more, but…”

“But you still have some explaining to do to Jim, let alone the tap dancing you are going to have to do for your dissertation committee,” Diane finished for him, a smirk crossing her lips. “Go on; get out of here, Leerling. You can catch me up next time you come to add to that mess.”

Blair ducked his head in embarrassment before getting into his car and driving away. Hopefully Jim will be as understanding as Diane.

o-O-o

Blair walked into the loft only a few hours after he had left it. He couldn't get over how drastically different it felt now. The knick-knacks, throws and pillows were all still there and in place but all his testing paraphernalia was gone leaving it looking curiously bare.

Shaking off the odd feeling Blair glanced up at the clock and realized that Jim was late getting home from work, which would mean a bad day. He immediately began the prep work on a beef stir fry for dinner, sorting and slicing vegetables and beef strips.

While he worked he imagined all the different scenarios of how he was going to explain the change in their working relationship. He was pretty certain he had it all figured out. The vegetables and beef were frying along in the wok when Jim came home.

The older man smiled at his roommate's dinner preparations, but then he seemed to notice something. He stopped in the middle of the living room and turned around in a slow 360. Then he again came to a stop, this time facing Blair. His head tilted as he asked cryptically, "Where is it all?"

Blair just raised an eyebrow in reply and replied blandly, "Where is what Jim?"

He went to get his friend a beer, hoping to distract him. The Sentinel didn't fall for the line or the gesture. Jim didn’t move from his spot, only stared at Blair harder.

 "“It… all of it… the notes, the testing diagrams, the journals… where is it?” Jim asked, truly perplexed. Well, Blair had wanted an opening to explain his decision, and Jim gave it to him.

“It’s safe… put away. For now.” He tossed the food one last time before dishing out two plates and carrying them to the table along with forks. Jim still wasn’t moving except to stand up straighter, hands shoved into hips.

“For now? Until when, Sandburg? In case you don't remember your ride along with me and your gig at the Rainier hinges on the work you need to get done." Jim insisted as he moved around Blair and pulled out another bottle of beer to have with dinner. Blair smiled, this played right into discussion leader number 2. He began accordingly.

“Yes, and as soon as this last round of exams is finished, I intend to get right on that. Not only do I have to get started with the interviews—“ 

 “Interviews?” Jim interrupted. “Interviews with who? You already interviewed Simon and Carolyn, and I still don’t know how you got information out of Caro without telling her about the Sentinel abilities, but who else would you need to interview and why?” 

 Blair rolled his eyes and chuckled. “No man, not character interviews. Well, actually that depends. See, I need subject matter from guys in other departments. Then I need to set aside some time to visit a few other precincts too.” 

 Jim stared at him for a few minutes, chewing a forkful of food thoughtfully. Finally when he swallowed, he asked, “Why?”

Blair smiled, “Because I am going to go to my dissertation committee and tell them 'Hey, you were right, turns out I don't have a line on a Sentinel and so I can't do my dissertation on them.' Then I am going to tell them that I have been talking to my friend the cop who took me in after my warehouse was razed and that it gave me the idea to do my diss on closed societies, the PD in particular. Means I have to have something to give them to show them my idea is on the level and will work."

Jim canted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Why?” he asked again and then clarified, "It's not that I'm not following your logic, I just don't get your reasons for doing it."

Blair shrugged, "Let’s just say that Brackett's little visit raised a few concerns."

Jim shook his head, “But… we had a deal. You help me with the senses, I let you write about me for your Ph.D. So what, you’re changing the rules now?”

“Nope, I'll still help you with the senses and I'll still write about you, but not publicly. The only thing changed is the public topic of discussion for my diss.” Blair ate in silence as Jim mulled this over.

You're going to write about the Police Department, the whole ‘Thin Blue Line’ thing, and you'll still have to work with me at the station to get your information for it, right?"Jim clarified.

“Yup.” Blair replied. He finished his beer and sat back, burping softly over his dinner before standing to clean his mess. Jim stared at his plate of food, concern still causing him to frown.

“But, then… what about your dreams of writing about a Sentinel?”

Blair set the plate in the sink and came back to sit across the table from his friend. He took up one of Jim’s hands in his own and squeezed gently, smiling when Jim looked up to match his gaze. “Jim, I know I told you that I wanted to write about you and maybe help others who had been misdiagnosed with my dissertation, but really my biggest dream was to find a Sentinel. To help him. I mainly told you what I did because you needed it, you wanted to know you weren't getting something for nothing so that you could justify accepting my help to yourself. But now I think you can understand it isn't about that at all."

"No," Jim said slowly. "It's not is it? It's about friendship and you being a decent person inside no matter what your outsides look like."

"Hey!" Blair bleated in playful offence and tossed a dishtowel at Jim.

Jim sat back and watched his roommate, friend, thoughtfully as he puttered around the kitchen. then he said, "You’re telling me the truth. You’re not upset about this. You really don't mind changing your whole focus of study just because it *might* be a problem."

It was a statement of fact, not a question. Blair smiled again. “Maybe one day I can write that dissertation. To help others, now that I know that Sentinels are real. But for now, it’s more dangerous to you than helpful.”

Dangerous to me?" Jim asked, the lost look seeping into his eyes again. Blair just smiled ruefully and said,

"Jim, Brackett's foray into blackmail has shown both of us that anyone with the connections and half a brain can put two and two together, if they have access to any information about you. What should be the biggest secret in the history of secrets... well that would hurt you, and me. Not healthy to say the least. Never mind if the press got a hold of it, they wouldn't leave us alone. Taking a few moments of time to think things through, I resolved it wasn't going to happen if I could help it. Can you blame me?"

Blair didn't wait for an answer, he was pretty sure Jim would see it his way. Instead he turned back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. Jim cleared his throat and said, "No, I guess not. Thanks.”

They didn’t talk about it anymore that night, or ever again for that matter. Jim left it all in Blair’s hands, trusting him. They still did the tests, Blair wasn't going to welch on his promise about helping the other man with his abilities, but any data was coded so that no-one would be able to figure out what it was about. Then when Blair needed to, he updated his files with a quick run out to Diane's house and always took advantage of the time to visit. Life was good - for the moment.