"This isn't, like, a typical day for you, is it?"

Jim laughed, shaking his head as he walked off.

Blair yelled after him, his voice tinged with hysteria. "Well, is it?"

Jim stopped and cocked his head, hearing something beneath Blair's voice
that caused him to turn around. Sandburg's breathing sounded strained,
and his heartbeat remained alarmingly high. At first, Jim had attributed
Blair's accelerated vitals to the adrenaline rush, but now that he
listened closer, he wasn't so sure.

He studied Blair's face, noting the pale complexion and thin sheen of
perspiration on his forehead. Jim's eyes traveled down to the tear in
Sandburg's jacket sleeve, and his sentinel eyes picked up the tiny beads
of blood clinging to the edges of the fabric. Then his gaze traveled to
Blair's hands, and he noticed the redness for the first time. Looking
closer, he saw the nearly invisible flakes of glass embedded in the cuts
on the kids' palm.

Blair just looked at him with wide eyes and repeated his question,
sounding more breathless than he had a moment ago. "So? Come on, is it?"

"Chief, you okay? You look a little pale."

"Huh? Fine, man." He chuckled nervously and took a few steps forward.
"Never better...." He stopped suddenly, his right arm sliding close to
his ribs. "Oh man...." His face lost its remaining color and his eyes
rolled back as his knees folded.

Jim lunged forward and caught him, easing his descent. "Sandburg?"

He lowered Blair's head gently to the floor and looked over his shoulder
toward the staircase. Thankfully, a single uniformed officer remained,
heading toward the entrance.

"Hey! Get some EMT's up here!"

The uniform turned around, surprise flickering over his face as his eyes
dropped to the fallen young man. "Aye, sir!" He spun around and dashed
into the staircase.

Jim turned back to Blair, scanning the kid's vitals with his senses.
Sandburg's heartbeat sounded weak and rapid and his breathing shallow.

"Damn." His medic training took over and he sat on the floor, pulling
Sandburg's legs over his own to keep them elevated. He wished he had a
jacket or something warm and heavy to drape over the young man to
protect him from the cold breeze.

He heard the stairwell door open, and footsteps hurried toward him. He
glanced over his shoulder to see Simon approaching, the older man's face
softened with concern.

The captain crouched next to him. "What happened? How is he?"

Jim shook his head. "I'm not sure. Shock, I think." He pointed to
Blair's sleeve. "He got nicked. His palms are also cut up, but not too
badly. He may have bruised some of his ribs, as well." He leaned over,
somewhat restricted by Blair's legs, and carefully lifted the young
man's layers of shirts, revealing a collection of shady, developing
bruises along his right side. "Yep. Looks like he got banged up. I think
after the adrenaline began to fade, it all caught up with him."

"Damn." Simon rose to his feet. "You think the kid's gonna want to hang
around after this? First day here and he almost gets killed."

Jim had to smile at that. "Yeah, he wanted to know if this was a typical
day for me."

Simon's smile faded, and he glanced back toward the stairwell. "Thank
God it's not."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, but you know something?'

The captain looked back at him. "I'd like to think as captain I know a
few things." He managed a smile. "Or did you have something specific in
mind?"

Jim grinned, jerking his chin toward the silent helicopter. "He kept his
cool up there." A chuckle escaped him. "He managed to *persuade* the
pilot to lower the chopper. I think he used a flare gun, but he
convinced the guy he'd flown Apaches in Desert Storm."

Simon laughed and shook his head. "Him? Military?" He looked down at the
unconscious, long-haired grad student. "I don't think so."

Jim cocked an amused eyebrow. "Yeah, well he had the pilot convinced."

A weak groan pulled his attention downward, and Jim gently patted
Blair's knee. "Hey, Chief, first day and you're already sleeping on the
job. You wanna open your eyes now?"

Blair groaned again, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed blue
eyes that drifted lazily toward Jim. "Huh? What happ'ned?"

"You fainted."

Blair's eyes widened. "I did?" Pink colored his cheeks. "No, I
didn't, man." His brow furrowed. "Did I?"

Jim and Simon chuckled just as the stairwell door opened to reveal two
paramedics carrying a stretcher between them.

Sandburg lifted his head to peer at the approaching EMTs. With another
groan, he laid his head back down and closed his eyes. "Great. Just
great."

Jim gave Blair's knee another pat. "Don't worry about it, Darwin. You
had a rough day."

Blair nodded and opened his eyes, peering at the immobile chopper. "Tell
me about it."

The paramedics crouched next to the group, setting their toolbox on the
floor. One grabbed a stethoscope and listened to Blair's heartbeat while
the other started asking questions.

"What seems to be the problem here?"

Simon stepped back. "I'm going to head back to Daryl. Let me know how he
is."

Jim nodded. "Yes, sir."

Blair grimaced. "The problem is a bunch of psychos took over the
building and somehow I ended up falling from a window that was, like, 20
stories high *and* getting taken hostage in a helicopter." He looked
back at Jim and managed a shaky smile. "Heights are *so* not my thing,
man."

Jim cocked his head. "This building doesn't have twenty stories,
Sandburg."

Blair closed his eyes again and let the paramedics check him over.
"Yeah, well, it was high enough, man. Definitely high enough."

Jim's chest tightened uncomfortably. He didn't know exactly what had
happened to Blair while the young man was trapped in the building, but
he hadn't even suspected a fall from a window. Although he didn't know
Sandburg all that well, the thought of this over exuberant, immature
grad student dying sent his heart into his throat. He was just a kid,
for chrissakes. A very foolish kid who seemed to thrust himself into the
heart of danger. A kid with no damn sense whatsoever. Jim had only known
Sandburg a few days and already the young man had thrown himself beneath
a moving garbage truck to save him. Then there was the whole Switchman
deal. What on Earth had possessed Sandburg to follow Veronica on to that
bus?

And then, somehow, this same scrappy grad student had managed to wind up
in the middle of a terrorist takeover *and* had also managed to do some
damage of his own.

The paramedics completed their examination and began packing up their
equipment. "Everything checks out fine, but we're gonna run you in just
to be safe," the younger of the two remarked. "Your ribs looks pretty
banged up. but I don't think anything's broken. They'll also take care
of the cuts on your hand. Looks like you might have some glass embedded
there."

Blair opened his eyes, looking much too tired to put up a fight. "Okay,
I guess, but I don't need to ride in the ambulance, right?" He moved to
a sitting position and Jim shifted from beneath Blair's legs. "I mean, I
know there are other injured down there way more needy than I am." He
glanced at Jim. "I, uh, don't supposed I can bum a ride to the hospital?"

Jim smiled. "No problem, Sandburg. But you're sure you don't want the
ambulance?'

Blair nodded. "Yeah, no point man. I'm fine. Just a bit wobbly is all.
No sweat."

"Uh-huh." Jim helped Sandburg to his feet, recognizing the bravado as
false. Blair looked five time worse than he had just before he'd
collapsed. His face was still pale and his eyes were bloodshot and
slightly glazed. "Come on, Conan, let's get you checked out."

"Thanks, Ellison. Sorry to be a pain." Blair leaned heavily on him, and
Jim wondered if the kid realized just how close he was to taking another
dive.

"It's not a problem, Sandburg." He kept a firm hold on Blair's uninjured
arm, ready to catch him should his legs give out.

"You know, man...."

"What?" Jim guided his new 'partner' into the staircase.

Blair grinned up at him. "You're not as much of a tight ass as I first
thought."

Jim raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at his lips. "You're not half
bad yourself, kid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end!
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