I'd like thank Becky for her transcripts.

Spoilers for Dead Drop

This story is a sequel to: Kidnapped

In the passenger seat of Simon's car, Jim sniffed in that wonderful new car smell.

"I'm glad you approve," said Simon.

"I can't wait to get home and shower," said Jim.

Simon said, "You need to give your testimony to real Cameron. While you were playing catch up with an old Army buddy, we were getting real work done."

Jim relaxed in the vinyl seat as the car drove down a hill. His shoulder was still giving him trouble. "I was drugged and tied up the basement."

"When I came in, you and Oliver were chatting," said Simon.

"I heard the sirens and I was determined to keep myself alive until help arrived."

"You were inches from the door," said Blair. "You didn't feel a draft."

"I had a lot on my mind. I couldn't be sure if the draft came from a door or a window, besides Oliver had a gun." Jim didn't know for sure, but Oliver wasn't the type of man not to be packing.

"You bought Jacobs down," said Blair.

"I heard him cocking his gun around a corner. He wasn't a professional sniper with clear view of his target," Jim explained. "I don't have Sandburg's finesse, but I managed to keep the colonel talking."

"Discretion is the better part of valor," said Blair. "Do you use some kung-fu kick on Harley in the basement?"

Jim wanted to hide. "I tripped him when he turned around. He didn't expect a blind man to be following his footfalls. He would have never let his guard down around a seeing person." He wasn't the hero anymore.

After a shower and a sandwich, Jim didn't feel much like listening to the radio or reading a book. "Blair, where's my cane? I'm going to the gym."

"By the door, near that basket you throw everything in," Blair replied.

Jim took the bus to the stop nearest the gym. He had been paying for a taxi to take him, but that could get expensive. The bus let him out two blocks from the gym. At the first corner, Jim listened for traffic. Two cars passed then he waited for a tractor-trailer to rumble by. He then listened again for traffic before finally crossing. His pace quickened as he walked the last block to the gym. Jim signed his name under the freshest ink and deepest imprint.

As Jim was setting the weights for the leg press, Harvey Crane, the gym owner, tapped Jim's shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." Jim continued to adjust the pin until it clicked into place.

"You've been here a lot the past few weeks. Ellison, have you been in the news so much that you can't go undercover?"

"Very funny, Harv."

"Keeping Cascade safe?"

Jim didn't like being teased about being blind. "I'm on permanent disability."

"You look pretty healthy to me."

"Man, I was injured in the line of duty." Jim wanted to hit Harv with his cane. Harv was an adult with a child of his own. He wasn't some kid waving his hand in front of the blind man. "Harv, you're shitting me. Just because I don't bump into walls doesn't mean I can see."

"You're blind?"

"You really didn't know."

Harvey just stood there.

"I can't hear you smile, shake your head or nod," Jim explained.

"You've been setting the equipment and bench pressing blind?" asked Harvey. "You're the one shitting me."

"You're legally blind if you can't see the Big E on the eye chart," explained Jim. "I can't see the eye chart. I've been pumping iron since I was a teenager. I know my way around a weight room. The dark glasses, the cane should have given it away."

"You had me fooled." Harvey walked away to help another customer.

Fooled? Jim had fooled the drug pushers, but in the gym, he wore dark glasses and left his cane by the water cooler. He didn't put his cane in the locker room because he didn't want it smelling of gym socks. After shaking his head in disbelieve, Jim worked his lower body. The lack of air current told him one of the two rowing machines was free. Although the gym didn't smell like fresh air and rushing water, Jim could imagine he was in a raft with Blair. Their fishing trip would now be Spring Break. Also a good aerobic workout would help clear his mind.

After Jim was rowing awhile (the full range of motion relieved his shoulder pain better than aspirin or muscle relaxers.), Jim noticed someone breaking his air currents by leaning over him.

"I was thinking," said Harvey.

"You? That's dangerous."

"I could use some help with the place."

Jim stopped the machine. "I don't need a pity job."

"No pity. An honest day's work for an honest day's pay. You know all the equipment."

"What if someone expects me to spot?" Jim asked, getting up from the rowing machine to let another person use it.

"Use your judgment."

Jim stood and stretched. The shoulder felt better; all the kinks were out. "I'll think about it."

Harvey stood there a second before walking toward the front desk. Jim liked working out. It was one of the constants in his crazy life. A job here wouldn't be too bad, but he didn't take charity. If he took the job, he would pull his weight. Bad pun, groan.

On Monday, Jim told his therapist. "Harvey wants to hire me to help at the gym."

Lisa said, "Are you going to take the job?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"It's better than flipping burgers. You should do something you love."

"Blair is meeting me for lunch, so I won't be attending the afternoon class. He's getting some artifact appraised in a high-rise and Blair has this fear of heights. We're going for Cuban food afterwards."

"You're good to take care of him like that."

"We take care of each other. He helped me over my fear of deep water."

"Mary won't mind if you miss one class," said Lisa.

Jim went down to the lobby of the rehab center to wait for Blair. After checking his watch, Jim picked up a Braille issue of Reader's Digest. After reading an article, Jim checked his watch, again. Blair was running late as usual. A television set was going on in the background probably in one of the therapy rooms; Jim focused his hearing on it.

"There was been a terrorist attack in the Wilkenson Tower. Someone calling himself Galileo has overrode the elevator with four hostages onboard," said the television reporter.

Blair was in the Wilkenson Tower. The elevators wouldn't be working and with Blair's fear of heights, Blair would need him. Jim called Cascade Taxi. "I'm at Cascade Rehab. I need a ride to the Wilkenson Tower."

"Someone will be there in five minutes," said the dispatcher.

Jim hung up the phone and went outside to wait. Five minutes then the ride across town, Blair would be in a panic the whole time. He did not do well with heights. Jim decided to call him. "Hi, Honey. Where are you?"

"Jim, you're not going to believe this. I'm between the twenty-sixth and twenty-fifth floor." Blair was in the elevator. "A madman dropped us five floors. We're pretty shaken up in here."

"I'm getting a cab. I'll be right over. Hold tight."

"Where am I going to go?"

"Are Simon and Joel there? Just remember this isn't about you."

"I lied. There was no rope bridge. I never even had been to fucking Nepal."

"Remember that breathing exercise you taught me, the one to relieve stress? Start doing it."

"This isn't about me. Good-bye, Jim. I need the line open for the police."

"I love you." Jim turned off the phone just before the cab arrived. He confirmed to the cabbie that he was the ride to Wilkenson Tower.

Jim met Simon at the high-rise office building's lobby. "I can't believe Sandburg's in the middle of this. Before he started tagging around with me, the worst that could happen to him at the university was a paper cut."

"Look at the upside," Simon said. "His police experience is gonna help him through this."

Jim took Simon's arm to let him guide him to building security. "Hey, Simon, is it me or is Cascade the most dangerous city in America?"

Simon and Jim entered the building control center. Another man greeted them. "Tom Watson, head of building security."

Simon shook his hand. "Captain Simon Banks. This is Jim Ellison."

Jim reached out his hand to shake.

Watson, not only didn't shake Jim's hand, he walked away. "That's elevator four on the big monitor."

"It's our boy -- P.D. patched him through," a man yelled.

"Patch him into speaker," ordered Watson.

"Check the trace," yelled Banks.

"On it," said Brown.

Simon said, "Yeah. Go ahead."

Galileo said, "Bank of Commerce. St. John's, the Cayman Islands. The account number is 6-7-0-5-6-4-9."

Jim, suddenly, felt useless, standing around the security office, while other people worked. He would take the job at the gym. He liked working out and could share his joy with others. He'd share doing something he loved. It was better than collecting workman's comp.

Galileo said over the speaker, "It's 12:16. You have until 1:00 p.m. to wire the five million. Once I receive confirmation, the car will be lowered to the lobby. If not, it drops five floors every ten minutes. After that, it drops the last 15 stories. Do I make myself clear?"

"Okay, thanks." Brown hang up his phone and explained, "The trace is no good. He's forwarding the call through a dozen different cell phones."

"This is Captain Banks, Cascade P.D. How the hell do you expect us to come up with $5 million in under an hour?"

"Actually, there's a source that's very liquid and very close," said Galileo.

"And what would be that?" said Jim.

"The man who owns the building," Galileo explained.

"Mel Wilkenson does not respond to threats," said Watson, head of building security.

"Oh, he will this time. Take a good look at your monitor." Galileo had a smirk in his voice.

"Caitlin?" The security guard sounded worried.

"Who's she?" asked Jim.

"Wilkenson's daughter," explained the guard.

"Let's get a hold of Wilkenson," Simon Banks said.

"Pointless, Captain," said Watson. "He won't negotiate. Back in '89, he was kidnapped in Mexico. He stonewalled till they let him go."

"Yes, yes, I remember that," said Banks. "The guy made the cover of Newsweek."

"Oh, well, his neck's not on the block." Jim tried not to yell, but his life was in that car. "We got an elevator carfull of innocent people."

Galileo was somewhere in the building and could see into the control room. He also knew Wilkenson was there and not meeting his demands. "You want to search the whole building, go ahead, but understand this: I'm Galileo. I wrote the book on falling bodies."

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think this guy's going to," The man stopped talking mid-sentence.

"The police are going to do everything they can to get those people out, but in the meantime, I'd locate that money," Jim said.

"Or else what?" said the building owner.

"I drop a dime to the media and the world finds out that Mr. Newsweek hero is just an empty suit who'd let his own daughter die." Jim left the control room. He needed air.

"What the hell is the matter with him?" Wilkenson said.

"Well, Mr. Wilkenson, I'll tell you. That's his friend in there and if you cared half as much for your daughter, maybe this whole thing would be over," Simon said coming to Jim's defense.

Jim walked down the hall to the stairwell. Breathing space, he took a few deep breaths, feeling the rise and fall of his diaphragm. After a few minutes, he heard the footsteps of a large man with cigar-scented clothes, Simon.

"Go back inside." Simon put an arm on Jim's shoulder. "Blair needs to hear your voice."

"I want to do more," Jim admitted.

"You did good," Simon said. "Wilkenson is wiring the money. Why don't come back to the security room?"

"I'm not a cop anymore," said Jim. "I'm in the way." As he was going back into the building security room, Jim heard Galileo's voice on the speaker, "The welding idea was cute, but I've got more than one way to drop that car. Tell the psych minor to open the briefcase. If he doesn't, I'll blow it all right now."

"Blair, this is Simon," Captain Banks said into the cell phone. "He wants you to open the briefcase."

"Hey, Simon, I don't think that's such a good idea, man."

"Blair, we have no choice. You have to open it."

"Oh, it's heavy." Blair sighed. "Good thoughts, huh?"

Simon gave Jim the phone.

Jim said, "Take a deep breath. Blair, honey, I'm giving the phone to Joel. Honey, you do what he says."

Joel took the phone. "Blair, tell me what you see."

"There's a timer with a lot of wires and a whole bunch of C-4, Joel." Blair said into the cell phone. "I have no idea what to do."

"Don't even try to get near it," said the bomb squad captain.

Wilkenson said, "Mr. Ellison, we can handle things now. You should go to the lobby and wait. One of my security guards can escort you."

Jim grabbed his cane. "I'm going." After Jim got to the empty lobby, he sat down at the security desk to recover from descending all those stairs. He felt so helpless. A little over a month ago, he was one of top detectives in Cascade. Now he was a civilian to be protected. His ego wasn't important, Blair was. Joel Taggert would defuse the bomb. Twenty minutes on the timer that gave Joel more than enough time. Jim left Blair in very capable hands. Blair would be running down those steps and into his arms any minute.

The hum of the building stopped. They had shut the power. The silence bothered Jim. Suddenly, Jim heard a bang and the building shook. The vibrations had started at the elevator shaft. His precious Blair was dead. He was alone in the dark.

"Blair, no," he screamed to the empty lobby. The lights came back on and the building hummed with electricity. The phone on the security desk rang. "Ellison," said Jim.

"It's Simon. A very happy grad student wants to see you."

"He's dead. I heard and felt the boom."

"Sandburg cut a hole in the elevator floor with a blowtorch. The bomb exploded fifteen stories beneath them."

Jim tried to smile. "He's alive."

"Joel got him and the others out," said Simon. "Stay put. Joel will be bringing him down."

Jim went over to wait by the stairwell. Finally, he heard people on the stairs. Blair, running into his arms, nearly knocked Jim over.

Jim hugged the love of his life, safe in his arms. "I didn't rescue you."

"I can rescue myself." Blair continued to wrap his arms around Jim. When Blair was no longer bouncing up and down in Jim's arms, Jim sniffed Blair's thick curly hair.

"You don't need me anymore," said Jim.

Blair bounced up to kiss his lips. "I'll always need you. I could use some Cuban coffee."

"I hear you." After the Cuban coffee, Jim and Blair went home.

"I have all this nervous energy." Blair climbed into the king bed on top of Jim.

"Use it on me," Jim said.

Blair kissed Jim's lips, neck and shoulders. "I plan to."

Jim lied back to take whatever his little fireball could dish out. Jim put his hands through Blair's hair as Blair's mouth went lower on his body. Blair's quick tongue licked Jim's nipples and nearly hairless chest. He moved his hands down the larger man's strong abs. Blair fingered the fine hair as he lowered his head to the hard long shaft.

"Oh, Baby," Jim moaned as the smaller man licked the precum off the tip of the engorged shaft. "Take it all."

Blair licked the length, making it rock hard then slowly took the length in his mouth sucking on it gently making it tremble. Blair lowered himself as Jim thrusted his hips and spread open his legs giving his love better access. Blair fingered Jim's balls as he continued to deep-throat him.

"Blair, Blair," Jim screamed as he fired.

Blair sucked it dry then he shook a little as he kissed Jim's belly.

Jim asked, "The excitement getting to you?"

"The calm after the storm."

Jim put one hand through Blair's hair and the other on his back. "I nearly had a heart attack in the lobby. I heard the explosion; I thought you were dead. Don't ever scare me like that again."

"High school metal shop," said Blair. "Anyone could have done it."

"But you thought of it." Jim touched Blair's face. "I've never seen your face in the afterglow of good sex."

"I look terrible."

"I'm sure you're beautiful." Jim kissed Blair's eyelids. "Baby, go to sleep." Jim stroked his love's forehead before snuggling against him to go to sleep himself.

Jim went to the Harvey's Gym after rehab the next day. He heard a woman banging her legs and straining while using the free weights. He walked over to her. "Honey, start with a light weight, one to five pounds. A light weight with lots of repetitions is the way to go." Jim took two one-pound weights from the rack and showed her the proper form for doing a bicep curl. Then he put the weights back in their proper location. "You try."

"I'm Patti," said the woman.

"Jim." He listened for her to take the weights from the rack. She was letting the weights dangle when she lengthened her arms and she held her breath while she curled. "Breath normally, Patti. Put one weight back. Let's try getting your position right with one weight before we try two." He taught her how to do a bicep curl then a couple exercises for the deltoids then triceps.

Then he set her up on the exercise bike. Jim, finally, got started on his own exercise routine. After Jim put the free weights in their correct order, he took a clean towel from behind the desk.

Harvey grabbed his arm. "Have you thought about the job?"

"I have a week and a half of classes."

"You can work evenings while you're attending rehab. Can you start tomorrow? The woman, who you were showing the weights, just bought a membership."

Jim knew Harvey now wanted him because he could do the job, not because he felt sorry for an injured cop. "What time should I be here?"

"Three o'clock." Harvey paused. "Can you work three to eight? Do you have any problem with closing?"

"No, sir."

"Jim, it's Harv."

Jim went to the showers to wash off the sweat. After he showered and dressed, he went to the foyer to get his cane.

"Wait up," yelled Patti.

"Would you like me to walk you to your car?" Jim asked.

"Why do you wear sunglasses indoors?"

"My eyes are sensitive to light," Jim explained. "My doctor claims my eyes dilate normally, but I have my doubts."

"Can you see with them on?"

"No," Jim got his cane. "I can't see with them off either."

"Would you like me to drive you home and save you the cab fare?"

He had offered to escort her. Jim thanked her, but he would take the bus. It was free to seniors and the disabled on non-peek hours, besides Blair was waiting for him at home.

Jim took the bus from the rehab center and made the necessary transfers to get to the gym. He started work at three o'clock. Harv told him to help the customers and when he wasn't helping customers to clean. At six-thirty, Jim started collecting the towels and took them to the machine to wash. He heard the footsteps of a medium-sized man walking toward him.

Jim turned around. "You shouldn't be back here."

"Harv said you were back here."

"Steve, I'm working." Jim went back to filling the machine then added the detergent. "I have lockers rooms to clean."

"You're going to spend the rest of your life cleaning up after sweaty men."

"You didn't exactly rush to offer me a job at your racetrack. It's honest work."

"You wouldn't work for me."

"Probably not, but you're family. You could have offered." Everything that happened in Wilkenson Tower wouldn't have occurred if Mr. Wilkenson had done right by his daughter in the first place.

"Take those glasses off. I like to see the eyes of the person I'm talking to."

After Jim removed the sunglasses, he felt Steve get in his face then back away. Jim went into the men's locker room and started picking up the towels off the floor and the seats.

"Put them back on." Steve sat on the bench in the locker room.

Jim put his glasses in his pocket, instead, and started cleaning the toilets. "Did you talk to Blair?"

"That boy is in love with you. I'm sorry I misjudged him."

"I nearly lost him."

"How did you know I was behind you?"

"Your footsteps told me you were a man of about average size with a normal gait. Remember I had enhanced senses as a child. Hearing is my best sense."

"You can hear if someone is limping?"

"Limping, knock-kneed, bowlegged. I can tell if someone has a heart murmur, arrhythmia, or a heart attack. I see people by heartbeats. If I keep my glasses on; people don't know I'm blind."

"I'm a bunch of noises?"

"Your heart is fast for a man your age about eighty beats a minute. Blair's is in the fifties. He can go down to forty-five when he meditates. I'm talking resting here. I'm no doctor, but maybe you could benefit from more aerobic exercise."

"Fuck you."

"That's Blair's job."

"Does Harvey know you're a faggot?"

"I'm not a teenage boy jerking off to muscle magazines. I've grown up."

"I didn't tell Dad why you brought those magazines." Steve had other ways at getting back at his older brother.

"It doesn't matter."

"Has Dad has met Blair?"

"Not yet."

"I don't envy you."

"He never met Carolyn."

"Carolyn?"

Jim took the rest of the towels to the machine and changed loads. He returned to the locker room and cleaned the shower stalls. Afterwards, he reached for the checklist on the door. He felt for the line with the heaviest imprint and initialed and timed it. "My ex-wife. She left me."

"Why?"

"Danny." It didn't matter now. Danny was deceased.

"Danny Choi. He is younger than Blair."

"He approached me. He died in the line of duty. Blair moved in soon after."

"I'm suppose to believe young men are throwing themselves at you."

"I was in love with Danny and I love Blair. I don't need you judging me because I don't live up to your expectations; live with it." Jim put a sign in front of the women's locker room. "Steve, I have to clean the women's room. We can talk later."

While he was gathering the towels, a woman yelled, "When will you be done?"

"I'll blind," Jim yelled back.

"I'll wait," the woman said.

Jim felt his watch. "We're closing. I'll wait." Jim started to clean the showers as the lady used the facilities.

After he finished cleaning the women's room, Jim felt his watch and it was a few minutes after closing and he only heard one heartbeat other than his own. "Harv, is there anything else you need?"

Harv looked around the bathrooms. "I'm impressed how clean the restrooms are."

"You want something clean have a blind person do it. You walk into a shower; you see the dirt. I have to assume the whole thing is filthy until proven otherwise."

"I never thought about it."

"No one thinks about those things. I spent the last month learning to live in a dark world."

"You see light."

"Bright, dark. I see a whole lot of nothing. Sometime close your eyes and try to cross your living room and don't dream of cooking dinner blindfolded."

"I don't think I would as brave as you."

"Going into the line of fire to stop a drug dealer or serial killer is brave. I'm just surviving." Jim picked up his cane and left the gym.

End Gallileo by Athena: athena@fateordestiny.com

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