Wednesday Morning

"Let's go, Sandburg. I want some breakfast and I'm not leaving until you're in the bathroom getting ready." Ellison stopped by the other's bed as he tucked his shirt into his pants. The lump of blankets that he knew was his partner slowly shifted until Sandburg rolled onto his back and his head emerged.

"I'm up," Blair murmured, opening his eyes briefly then quickly shutting them at the brightness of the room. "Just give me five more minutes."

Jim smiled. "That's what you said yesterday, right before you tried to cuddle with my hand."

"What?!?" Blair's eyes flew open and he sat up in shock. "I didn't."

"Yes, you did. And you had this smile on your face that was soooo sweet. I'm sure the guys back home would love to know about this side of you." Ellison walked over to the door.

"Oh, God," Blair moaned, burying his head back into his pillow.

"And then you had to tell everyone we met that you got shot in the butt."

The statement made Blair turn his head on the pillow until he could see his grinning friend. "Everyone? How many is everyone?"

"Let's see. There were a couple of nurses and a doctor or two at the hospital, not to mention the people we passed heading into the hospital as we were leaving." Jim paused momentarily at the loud groan that emanated from the bed. "Then after we got into the lobby--"

"You took me through the lobby? Didn't you park the car in the garage?"

"I thought it would be easier to get you up to the room if we didn't have to go through a lot of doors. I did have to practically carry you all the way. Where was I? Oh, yeah. In the lobby you had to tell both Chris and Vin, who thought you were drunk, and Detective Curtis from the New Orleans P.D. Remember me telling you about him? He said the incident is all over the precinct. Then there were the female FBI agents down the hall. You even offered to show them where you got hit."

"Sometimes you can be such a bastard, Jim," Blair accused, pushing the covers back and swinging his feet onto the floor.

"I try, Chief. I try." Laughing, Ellison opened the door and left the room.

Wednesday Afternoon, Late

"Detective Ellison?"

Turning his head at the sound of his name, Jim recognized the young Warrant Officer Candidate who'd been at the registration desk the first morning. Swinging the rest of the way away from the soft drink vending machine, he asked, "Yes, Candidate?

The young woman held up a yellow rose with a card attached to it. "Sir, it was really nice to get this, but I'm engaged."

Ellison raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Thank you, but no, and I really can't accept this." Handing the flower to the taller man, the young woman smiled and left.

Staring after the girl until she was out of sight, Ellison took the card attached to the flower and turned it over so that he could read it.

Would you like to meet me for coffee? Jim E.

Recognizing the handwriting, Jim looked around until he saw Blair. His partner was having a conversation with two females, a detective from Houston and an Air National Guard Major.

Feeling like someone was watching him, Blair turned to find Jim glaring at him. If looks could have killed, Blair would be stone cold. Smiling, he slightly boosted the bottle of water he was holding and murmured, "Payback is a bitch." He said it so soft that his two companions hadn't heard it. The one person who did hear the words allowed one side of his mouth to quirk up in a slight lopsided grin before he shook his head and turned back to the machine.

Thursday Night

Blair stood in front of the bathroom mirror to be able to see the small button on his collar. The 'banquet' being put on by the conference hosts wasn't a formal affair, but business attire was appropriate. That meant wearing a suit or sport coat; he chose the latter. Not being comfortable with a tie, Blair opted to go with a shirt that had an Italian collar. Over the button, he had a cover made of red sandstone with a pictograph etched in it. He also intended to wear a stud earring and his hair was pulled back and held by a clasp both of similar design. There were several at the conference who'd asked both him and Jim if he worked in Vice or in some undercover capacity with the Cascade P.D. What he was wearing tonight would definitely fuel the speculations.

"How much longer are you going to be, Chief?" Jim asked from the doorway. "My Ex never took as long as you do." He was also wearing a sport coat, but wore a polo shirt under it. He decided to dress a little nondescript since his partner decided to stand out. "That's quite a look, Sandburg. They'll be wondering if you're really a pimp instead of a vice cop."

Through the mirror Blair gave his partner a wide, pleased smile. Then he grabbed his jacket, pulled it on and went to the door. "Thanks, man. I decided that I'm going to take their attention away from what happened to me on Tuesday and give them something different to talk about. Actually, with this look, I'll have the ladies swarming around me."

"Like flies around--"

"Hey! I'm not picking on the staid, old-fashioned look you always tend to wear. Man, that look went out at least 10 years ago." Blair fingered the lapel on the larger man's jacket and got his hand slapped. Sliding around Jim, Blair went after his shoes.

Jim looked into the mirror to check his outfit before turning back to his friend. "Then the men wearing the same thing in GQ are also old-fashioned. Are you ready to go or do you need to add more accouterments to that outfit?"

"Ooh, nice big word. You been accessing the thesaurus on your computer again? Oh wait, you don't know where it is, do you?" Blair tried to duck, but he wasn't able to escape the hand swung at his head. "Don't mess the hair, man."

Stepping over to the bed stand, Jim grabbed his wallet and tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat. "Then let's go, Rapunzal. This is the last thing we have to do, then we can go home tomorrow and face the wrath of our Captain. If we hadn't missed the first get-together, we might have been able to escape tonight."

"You know you weren't in any mood to socialize on Sunday night. It took almost four beers to get you to crack a smile. And what do you mean about Simon? Have you, er we destroyed any cars? Have either of us had to sit in a jail cell? And we've only had one trip to the hospital. I think we're batting a thousand."

"Let's see. We helped foil a purse snatching and we hadn't been in the city even an hour. Less than 24 hours later, I'm at the scene of a robbery and help catch the criminals, who turn out to be three elderly gentlemen carrying fake guns. Then the next day, you help capture an escaped tiger and save a bunch of kids. Can you take a guess at the length of time it is going to take to explain it all to Simon when we get back? Not to mention the amount of hell we're going to catch from our wonderful co-workers." Opening the hotel room door, Ellison allowed his friend to exit then closed the door and checked it to make sure it locked.

"Oh, yeah. I see what you mean. Think we can find a reason to stay down here a little bit longer? I mean, because of everything that has happened, we really haven't had too much time to ourselves." After punching the down button for the elevator, Sandburg suddenly spun around and practically bounced where he stood. "I know, Jim. Why don't we change our flight plans for next week, ask Simon for a few more days to clean up all the stuff we were involved in this week and head up to Backstone. We can go visit Sheriff Gabelle. How about it?"

The elevator car arrived and the two entered. "I don't know, Chief. We might have a hard time convincing Simon, much less Accounting, to let us use precinct funds for a vacation."

"We won't be using P.D. money. We'll still check out of the hotel tomorrow and return the car. Then if we need one, we can pick up another using a personal credit card, which you can drive, and stay up in Backstone. The only thing we'll be using is our own time and money. How about it?"

Jim rubbed his nose. "I don't know, Sandburg. Let me think about it until after the dinner. It sounds too logical and way too easy. Besides, you thought it up. There's got to be something wrong with it." Just then the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the lobby. Jim quickly stepped out.

"Ha, ha, Jim. You are a laugh a minute."

The banquet room was set up in a smorgasbord style to allow the dinner guests the freedom to get what they wanted to eat and sit with whomever they wanted to sit. Four bars were set up, one in each corner, each carrying a variety of wines, beer and other alcoholic beverages.

Jim and Blair entered the room, each carrying a bottle of beer they'd acquired at the hotel lounge. Blair had convinced his partner that buying their drinks there they would have a bigger selection from which to choose and the prices would be better. Grudgingly, Jim had to admit the other was right again.

"I keep telling you, man. I had to go to several of these type things when I was with Rainier. A conference is a conference, no matter who is hosting it. The only thing different about this one is the food and how it's displayed. Normally, the fare is either sliced over or under cooked roast beef or rubber chicken." Taking a swallow of his beer, Blair walked over to one of the tables not marked with a 'Reserved' sign and set his bottle down. "How about this one, Jim? Away from the kitchen, not too close to the front table and far enough back for us to make a quiet exit if things get too boring."

"I knew I kept you around for more than just entertainment, Chief. Good strategy." Jim set his own bottle down and looked around the room. He saw that others from the conference were gathering with members from their own agencies, and their table would probably be no different. A captain and an officer from the Denver P.D were heading toward their table. Jim nodded at them as they set their drinks down before heading for the food tables. He saw Chris Larimore and Vin Tandy on the other side of the room with other ATF agents.

"I always take care of my partner, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he tends to be. Let's go fill up a plate or two before the best stuff is gone." Giving the larger man a cheeky grin, Blair started towards a table filled with plates and silverware.

Jim eyed the different platters of food spread out. "I think its time to revise your opinion of conference food."

"I agree, man. The people who'd set up this were definitely thinking outside the box."

"Sort of makes me wonder what we missed on the first night."

Blair only nodded, scanning the variety of dishes. Recognizing some of them, he dropped his voice way down and murmured, "Just remember, Jim. Check the dishes over for the type of spice being used before you take any, then turn your sense of smell and taste down. Even I can tell that some of the food is cooked Cajun style."

Chuckling at how his partner continued to watch out for him, Jim patted the smaller man on the shoulder. "Thanks, Blair."

A majority of the conference attendees where seated at their tables, enjoying their food and conversations. No one was paying attention to the two fancy dressed young men winding their way through the tables toward the front of the room. A third man stopped mid way through the tables and a fourth was standing back near the doors. If anyone had paid attention to them, they would have seen that their clothes were more suited for a formal dinner party.

Ellison had just completed his beer and was wondering where his partner had gone. Rather than use one of the bars in the room to get another drink, Sandburg had volunteered to go back to the hotel lounge. They had both enjoyed the Fat Tire beer purchased previously and Blair had convinced his partner that it was better for their heads in the morning to keep drinking the same brand rather than switching around. Who was Jim to argue when someone else was buying?

Suddenly his hearing picked up the familiar sound of a revolver being racked to load a bullet and a young voice saying, "Showtime!" Before he could make a move, the young men went into action.

"Could I have everyone's attention?" the man in the middle of the room yelled as he pulled out his weapon and pointed it at the ceiling. All conversations stopped and heads turned in his direction. "Thank you. My name is Napoleon and I am here to help you with your efforts. And before any of you get any ideas, I'm not alone. At the front of the room are two of my friends, Tom and Dick, and at the back of the room to make sure we aren't disturbed is Harry."

Just as the man ended the introductions, Sandburg opened the door and returned to the banquet room holding two bottles by their necks. He had a smile on his face when he looked at Jim, but it quickly faded when he noticed 'Napoleon' waving a gun around. Stepping backwards, he thought to fade back out of the room before he was noticed and get some help. A hand grabbing his hair at his neck and a gun placed at his throat made him freeze.

"Where are you going, Dude? The party has just started," Harry hissed in his ear.

Moving only his eyes to the man beside him, Blair replied shakily, "I'd forgot to get a drink for my friend. I can tell he's not happy about it. But he'll understand. I'll just go sit down and you guys can continue."

Harry looked at Napoleon. The leader smiled slightly and shook his head then returned his attention to the crowd.

"It'll be better if you just wait here with me. I know how testy friends can get when they're forgotten." Tightening his grip on Blair's neck, almost causing him to stand on his toes, Harry moved the two of them back until they were against the doors. Pushing the barrel of his weapon harder against the soft underside of his jaw, he let go of Blair's neck and locked the doors. Once that was done, he brought his hand back up and rested it on Blair's shoulder.

Ellison ignored the leader and the other two; his full attention was on his partner. He could hear the younger man's heart beating rapidly and the fear emanating from him, but he also could see the confidence and trust in his eyes. Knowing Blair wouldn't do anything until he was given some type of sign, Jim finally listened to what Napoleon was saying.

"We heard all about your noble desires to help some poor children in a backwater, Third World country. Haven't any of you heard that charity begins at home? Well, we're here to help you remember. We four are also poor unfortunates and need your monetary help. So, when Dick comes around with his nice big bag, you are all going to display what you've learned and help fill it up." Napoleon extended a hand toward the two at the front and Dick reached under his coat in the back and pulled out a king-size pillowcase. He made a show of popping it open and displaying how large it was.

Glancing quickly around the room, Jim saw others looking toward their own friends and companions and knew that they were prepared to do something if they had a chance. He caught Larimore's eye and gave the ATF agent a slight nod.

Standing up at this table, Jim called out, "Excuse me, Napoleon, or whatever your real name is. Before you start with the collection, could I ask you a couple of questions? We're a little confused. How did you hear about our, uh, gathering?

Surprised at the interruption, Napoleon frowned and asked, "Who are you, the organizer?"

Jim smiled benignly, hearing some whispering from the others near his table. They, too, were waiting to go into action. "No, I'm just a guest. But this get together is pretty important to me and an interruption like this won't make me very happy." Deciding it was time for some body language, Jim folded his arms across his chest.

"What the hell are you doing, Jim?"

Ellison heard the low murmur and spared Sandburg a glance. Harry was still holding him, but the gun wasn't being held against his throat anymore. Unfortunately, Ellison couldn't give his friend any type of signal since everyone's attention was now on him.

Getting angry, Napoleon started walking toward the large man, interrupting him. "Just who are you, asshole?"

"Me? I'm not really anyone." Attempting to look innocent, Jim held his hands out to his side, palms up.

"Give me your wallet," Napoleon ordered when he stood in front of Jim.

Shrugging, Jim slowly held his jacket open, reached into the pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing it over to the crook. He looked over the other's head and, seeing Blair watching him closely, nodded slightly.

Sandburg wasn't the only one to see the signal. Around the room, others shifted carefully in their chairs until they were sitting slightly forward with their hands at their sides. Tandy was slowly stretching his hand down his leg to retrieve a handgun he always carried tucked in his left boot and Larimore was in position to draw the revolver tucked in his shoulder holster.

"What the..." Napoleon had opened the leather case and was staring at the gold badge. Then he saw the identification. "You're a cop?"

Jim grinned. He could hear the other's heart speeding up and saw him starting to sweat. "From Cascade, Washington. I'm not here for any type of charity benefit though. None of us are. If you don't believe me, just ask that guy over there." Jim pointed to a young Hispanic man. "He's with the FBI. Or that woman behind him. She's a colonel in the military."

"What's going on?" Napoleon asked, looking around the room. When his gun was suddenly plucked out of his hand and turned on him, he stumbled back. He heard chairs being scraped against the floor and spun around to see people from almost every table standing up and pointing a weapon at him and the other three.

After disarming the robber, Ellison reversed the revolver and pointed it at Napoleon's head. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sandburg jam his elbow into the stomach of the man beside him then swing around and slam the beer bottles into the guy's head. Harry went out like a light and dropped to the floor.

Returning his full attention to Napoleon, Jim asked, "What did you think this dinner was?"

The robber stared at his own gun pointing at his face. "Isn't this the New Orleans Benevolent Society banquet?"

One of the waiters near the table answered him. "That's being held down at the Radisson." When he saw others looking at him, he shrugged. "A friend of mine works there. They're having this big party to raise money for Feed The Children. Only those able to donate large amounts of money were invited."

"Shit!" Sagging in defeat, Napoleon raised his hands in surrender. Tom and Dick followed his example. Harry was still lying on the floor unconscious.

"I guess that says it all," Jim said with a grin. Around him, others had taken control of the four robbers and the room came alive with conversation and nervous laughter. Jim heard Blair reach his side and turned to look at him. "You okay, Chief?"

Looking slightly dazed but happy, Blair nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tender here, but nothing that would require another trip to the hospital." He rubbed at the spot on his throat where Harry had pressed his gun.

The grin faded from Ellison's face. "Damn, it happened again." He sat down in his chair.

Understanding, Sandburg sank down into his with a heavy sigh. "Yeah. So who gets to call Simon?"

"I made the call the last time, Chief. It's your turn."

"Hey, that's not fair. I would have called and you know it."

"You were unconscious, so I had to do it."

"But I would have done it--"

"Good intentions don't count."

Knowing he was defeated, Blair used the table to push back up to his feet. "Okay, okay. But I want another beer before I make the call. I had to waste the last one."

Joining his partner, Jim threw his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and they both walked to the doors of the room. "I think this calls for a couple, Chief. They might deaden his shouting."

"I doubt it."

"So do I."

Reaching the doors, the two men were about to exit when a man's voice called to Jim. "Detective Ellison!"

Knowing who it was, Jim stiffened slightly then sagged and turned around. "I know, Detective Curtis. We're going to make a statement, but we wanted to get refills before your robbery squad gets here."

Curtis gave the Cascade detective a wide grin as he approached. Behind him followed Larimore and Tandy. "I'm off duty, so call me Roger. And I wasn't going to stop you. Thought maybe you'd let me buy you and your partner a drink. That was a pretty smooth takedown tonight. It could have been ugly."

"I don't think so. These guys thought they were going to have an easy robbery of a bunch of fat cats who wouldn't put up a fuss. You could almost smell the fear on them when they learned about the mistake. All that was needed was to get the upper hand and the show was over."

"Sounds like you've got a lot of experience with this type of situation."

Blair spoke up. "We're from Cascade, Washington, otherwise known as one of the most dangerous cities in the U.S. Some of the things we've been through..."

"And most of them before you officially became my partner, Chief."

"I'd like to hear your side of some of these situations, Blair. Jim's versions make it sound like he's had to pull your fanny out of the fire more times than not." Larimore didn't flinch at the glare leveled toward him from the tall detective.

Blair stepped away from his friend and folded his arms across his chest. "Oh? And just which situations that you were involved in did you leave out?" Seeing Jim drop his head in embarrassment and rub the side of his nose, Blair turned to the others. "Let's go find a table. I think I need to straighten out the record on a situation or two and it will probably take some time. You're buying, Jim."

Turning, Sandburg walked through the banquet room doors, with Curtis, Larimore and Tandy on his heels. Sighing in resignation, Ellison followed.