"Okay, you smartasses, where is she?" Blair demanded, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared from one member of Major Crime to another. Taggart swung his chair around and suddenly started typing. Brown smirked back. Rafe became interested in the grain of his desk.

"What's the matter, Sandy?" Megan asked as she came across the bullpen.

"Who took Alex?" Blair growled. No one messed with his purple girl.

"Someone snagged your favorite sheila?" Megan said with eye wide in shock. A little too wide.

"Yes, someone took Alex, and someone better 'fess up," Blair said as he focused his glare on Megan.

"Geez, Hairboy, it's only a stuffed toy," Brown pointed out as he leaned against a file cabinet to watch the morning's entertainment. Blair turned to include Brown in his glare, but the other detective just laughed.

"No, she's only *my* stuffed toy, and if someone doesn't return her to *me*, retaliatory strikes are entirely possible."

"She'll be apples, Sandy. Just chill," Megan laughed.

"And just what makes you so sure that she's okay?" Blair demanded. Megan held her hands up in surrender as she backed away from him.

"Woman's intuition?" she asked unconvincingly. Blair would have followed up, but Simon came in with an expression that suggested he had more important concerns that a missing toy. Alex would have to wait.

Sliding Brown's desk drawer open, Blair searched for something worthwhile to steal. There was Brown's stash of top of the line and possibly illegally imported cigars or Brown's black book of girl's phone numbers which was actually green. Choices, choices. Blair's hand hovered before he snatched both the cigar case and the little book.

Blair pushed the drawer closed with his hip as he slid the items into his jacket. One quick trip to his car, and he could hide the loot. Now he had some bargaining power. Blair made the trip down and up in record time without everyone else trying to get on the elevators at the same time, but by the time he got back, another Polaroid sat on his desk.

A uniformed man Blair didn't recognized held Alex in his arm as he leaned on a sign that read "Mount Gilead Police Department." Blair groaned, and he would have gotten on the map and looked up Mount Gilead, but he knew from past experience that he would eventually find another conspirator who would laugh and say he had already mailed Alex to the next address on the list.

"Hey, Hairboy," Brown said as he came in the door. Blair narrowed his eyes defiantly stared at the man who Blair just *knew* was in on Alex's little road trip. Brown and Megan were definitely in on the scheme, and possibly Rafe.

"If she so much as has a dirty patch of fur," Blair threatened as he held up the newest picture before opening his drawer and dropping it in with his growing pile of Polaroids.

"Hey, why are you telling me? I keep tellin' ya, Sandburg, I'm not the mastermind here!"

"Right," Blair said as he slammed the drawer. "Well whoever the mastermind is, you'd better get in touch with him or *her* if you want your own stuff back," Blair said with a smug smile. Blair watched in satisfaction as Brown hurried to his desk only to find the lock jimmied and his stuff gone.

"That's… that's just not right," Brown eventually fumed. "Those were my best cigars!"

Blair leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms feeling more than a little satisfied with himself. Now Brown had a few choices to make, and hopefully he'd choose the one where he'd call the next name on the list, whoever came after the Mount Gilead Police Department.

"Hairboy," I need that book. "Man, I've got to call Karla or I'm never going to get out of the doghouse," Brown begged.

"And I need Alex back," Blair pointed out. He would have felt a lot more sympathy if he hadn't just gotten yet another Polaroid, this time from all the way over in Nova Scotia. The picture showed a man in a beige uniform leaning on a blue sign that read "Yarmouth Town Detachment-RCMP" in both English and French.

"I don't know who's next on the list. Have some mercy here, have you seen Karla? I can't afford to go pissin' her off."

Blair just sat back with a vicious smile as he watched Brown panic.

"Man, Hairboy, you used to be a lot nicer."

"You never stole my stuffed toys before. This one time when I was five and someone stole my woobie, I made an entire commune abandon the state," Blair shot back. He could admit to having a seed of pity for Brown, but there was no way Megan would crack and give the name of Alex's current location, so Brown was his best chance.

"How about if I give you a lead, would that be enough to get my stuff back?" Brown asked. Blair tilted his head in confusion.

"What kind of lead do you think would be worth me giving up my only leverage?" Blair demanded.

"I could flip on the ringleader; that'd be worth something."

"Oh please. Like I don't know it's Megan," Blair rolled his eyes.

"It's not. Look, just promise me you'll give me back my stuff before you do something that gets your ass thrown in jail for the rest of your life."

"This better be good," Blair threatened as he reached in his pocket for his car keys.

"It is. Just give me the book, and I'll give you a lead you can work with." In the end, Blair's curiosity won out and he led Brown down to his car where he'd hidden the cigars and the book under the emergency blanket Jim had bought him. He held the items out, but didn't let go as he waited for the grand revelation. Brown sighed heavily.

"He's going to kill me, but better him than Karla. Ellison has the list of addresses," Brown said, and Blair had to rewind that bit of speech and run it through his brain a second time before he believed his ears.

"Ellison?" Blair said incredulously.

"Ellison. Now look, Hairboy, it was supposed to be a joke," Brown explained as he took his valuables from Blair's suddenly numb hands.

"Oh, I'll show him a joke, alright," Blair said as he pulled the keys from the trunk and slammed it down as hard as he could. "I'll joke him right into a coma." Brown was still talking, but Blair didn't listen as he got in the car and headed for the loft.

Blair pushed the door open hard enough that it bounced off the wall.

"Chief? You okay?" Jim came out of the kitchen with a spoon still in his hand and a slightly panicked expression on his face.

"Alex." Blair announced the single word, and Jim's eyes widened just a bit.

"What about her? Did someone mail her back?" Jim asked, but Blair could read the lie in Jim as easily as Jim could read the lies in a suspect's beating heart.

"Where is she?" Blair demanded as he stepped into the loft and slammed the door behind him.

"How should I know?" Jim shrugged.

"Oh man, just tell me where my stuffed toy is and no one has to get hurt," Blair threatened as he walked toward Jim with one hand raised and one finger pointed at his partner.

"Blair? Come on now, you know I wouldn't do anything to Alex," Jim tried placating him, but Blair continued until he was inches from Jim and physically poking Jim in the chest with one finger.

"Where the hell is my fucking Alex?" Blair demanded.

"She's just out enjoying life, having a bit of a road trip," Jim said. "*Whoever* sent her just wants to have a little fun."

Blair wasn't fooled by Jim's words or by the way the side of Jim's lip twitched as he tried not to smile.

"I want my fucking stuffed monster back," Blair growled. Jim obviously couldn't take it anymore and that lip twitched its way up into a smile as Jim's body started to tremble with repressed laughter. Blair poked his finger into Jim's chest again for emphasis, and it was like pressing a whoopee cushion: The air came out of Jim in one long hiss and then Jim started laughing uncontrollably.

"Weirdo," Blair complained.

"Yeah, but I'm your weirdo," Jim said as he closed his arms around Blair. Blair tried to back off, but Jim's arms held him tight even while Jim laughed, his breath stirring Blair's curls.

"I still want my Alex back," Blair insisted even as he let his own arms come around Jim's waist.

"We'll call Frank up in Canada and tell him to skip ahead to the last address. I guess the joke's run its course," Jim agreed.

"You have a warped sense of humor, Jim Ellison" Blair said into Jim's chest.

"Yep," Jim agreed happily.

"If you're that upset, we could wait it out," Blair said as he leaned against the brick arch and watched the Cascade sky dump summer rains down onto the street. Not a single star shone through the clouds, and even the light of the street lamps seemed dimmed by the downpour.

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," Jim corrected him. "And I'm not annoyed at the rain as much as the partner who forgot the umbrella," he finished. Blair looked out the side of his eyes and Jim was wearing his patented frustrated face. It was a combination of his constipated expression and the face that convinced perps Jim was one inch from strangling them to death.

"So, do we wait it out or make a run for the truck?" Blair asked as he peered through the darkness to the truck parked on the far side. Unfortunately he couldn't catch even a glimpse of blue paint. So not good.

"If we wait, we're going to be here a long time," Jim said as he tilted his head and looked up at the clouds.

"Oh, man, that's cool. You can tell that?!" Blair pushed away from the arch of the museum and practically sprang to Jim's side where he peered first at the sky Jim studied and then at Jim himself. "What senses are you using, smell? sight?" Blair questioned, and the Sentinel turned toward him with a barely contained smile.

"The weatherman said this front's going to hover all night."

Blair crossed his arms as Jim's smirk told him he'd been set up. "Keep it up, just keep it up. One of these days, you're going to say something and I'm going to be so suspicious and jaded that I’m not even going to bounce," Blair threatened as he poked a finger into Jim's stomach.

"Never going to happen, Chief," Jim answered with a quick swipe at the invading hand.

"So, last one to the truck's a rotten egg," Blair casually commented, and then he bolted down the museum steps, his hand sliding along the banister as he counted on surprise to give him a head start… well surprise and Jim's sense of propriety, which would make the man stop and check for witnesses before doing something as silly as racing through the rain.

The circular driveway was a collection of dim oil rainbows sliding in the weak light of the street lamps, and Blair slowed to a trot to avoid falling on his ass. His hair stuck to his face and his neck and rain poured down the back collar of his coat. When he reached the grass of the park, Blair took off running without even looking for Jim.

After nearly a week of rain, each step drove his foot deep into the damp ground. Going in, his foot ripped at the grass and slipped in the mud. Coming out, it made a sick slurping sound as the mire pulled at his sneakers.

Blair was just rounding a bush when he felt something catch at his shirt. It might have been a tree branch or a burst of wind, but Blair somehow knew it had been Jim trying to grab him. He pushed his legs harder, listening to the squetch-slurrp of his footsteps as he leaped a row of yellow flowers, their heads drooping in the heavy rain.

Blair stumbled forward, his foot slipping when a chunk of grass ripped free of the mud underneath, and before he could recover, an arm grabbed him around the waist and yanked him off the ground.

"If I'm going down, you're going with me," Blair shouted into the wind as he squirmed. He could feel Jim stagger back under the weight, and then Blair's feet touched ground again. Blair shoved back into Jim, trying to throw him off balance. Feeling Jim start to tip, Blair laughed as he twisted in Jim's arms. He might love his Sentinel, but he didn't throw a race for anyone!

One of Jim's arms came free and windmilled wildly as Jim lost his balance and started slipping down the slight hill. Blair tried to press his advantage by giving Jim a little shove, but Jim's second arm clamped around him. Within a second, Blair found himself sliding down an incline slimy and wet with mud, Jim's arm still around him. They came to rest under a large bush with tiny green berries gathered in clusters.

"You okay?" Jim immediately asked, large hands checking elbows and knees and hips and.... Blair squeaked as Jim's hand grabbed him in a far more personal body part.

"What's the matter, Chief, you suddenly coming down with a case of shyness?" Jim teased. Blair grabbed for Jim's shoulder as the hand tightened.

"Shit. Man, if someone sees us," Blair gasped. The bush above them shivered with the force of the rain, and a mist filtered through the leaves.

"I think I'd hear them coming," Jim pointed out as he worked at the zipper of Blair's pants. Blair lost his next thought as a hot hand worked inside his pants, tracing the outline of his cock still trapped by his briefs.

"What happened to being annoyed?" Blair teased as he reached for Jim's pants to return the favor. He had a brief image of the guys at the station discovering this side of Jim: playful, adventurous, downright horny.

"Oh, I'm still annoyed, Chief," Jim promised, but then he reached down and kissed Blair. It wasn't the first-thing-in-the-morning-brush-of-lips-while-not-breathing-to-avoid-bad-breath kiss or even the you-annoy-me-but-you're-still-hot kiss. No, this was the full out, hand-behind-his-neck, Jim-lips-sealing-over-his-mouth-while-a-tongue-thrust-naughtily-into-his-mouth kiss.

By the time Jim pulled back, Blair was panting and had his fist curled around Jim's shirt. "Feel like getting a little dirty?" Jim whispered into the skin just below Blair's ear, and Blair could feel a shiver run through his entire body. Jim laughed.

"I think we're already dirty," Blair just said as he held up an arm that, from the heel of the hand to the elbow, dripped with mud and had strings of grass randomly imbedded in the mire.

Jim had been licking a patch of skin just below the ear, and now he started sucking so hard that, even as Blair bucked and writhed in Jim's grip, he panted out an objection. "Oh man… Jim… come on… Fuck… the guys… Jim… they'll see…"

Eventually Jim raised his head and looked Blair in the eye.

"Problem there, Chief?"

"You suck," Blair retaliated. He didn't even catch his own pun until Jim quirked an eyebrow at him as the corners of Jim's lips twitched. "Man, you know what I mean," Blair insisted, squinting his eyes again the mist that still filtered through the leaves above them.

"I do suck," Jim muttered as he leaned closer. Blair tightened his fist around Jim's pants which he had only gotten half open before the Sentinel had stolen every rational thought.

"Fuck it," Blair finally laughed as he leaned into the next kiss, working Jim's pants open with one hand while he hungrily sucked at Jim's lower lip. Slipping a hand into Jim's boxers, he found the hard cock inside and squeezed just hard enough to tease.

Jim made a strangled noise and thrust his hips forward.

"Something wrong?" Blair asked with mock innocence as he pulled out of the kiss.

"Tease," Jim growled, and then Blair gasped as Jim threw himself forward, trapping Blair under him. Blair felt his pants and boxers pulled down just far enough for his own cock to come free, and then Jim was pressing down on him, both of their cocks side by side in Jim's rain-slicked fist so that Blair could feel the aching need through Jim's twitching cock.

"Never a tease," Blair said as he reached behind Jim's neck, pulling him in for another kiss as Jim started humping. For his part, Blair spread his legs and angled his hips so that the rubbing hit the skin just below the head of his cock. The need spread until the cold rain felt good on his overheated face and he had to break the kiss just to breath. Jim's mouth panted loudly into his ear, and Blair could feel his own heart throb heavily in his chest as the heat became a delicious ache that made him grab handfuls of Jim's shirt and ram up.

Blair started a brief moment before Jim, crying out as the orgasm made everything in the world except Jim disappear for a brief moment. By the time Blair even registered the existence of a world again, Jim lay on him, limp and panting as he stroked Blair's cheek.

"Still annoyed," Jim whispered playfully, and Blair smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Just wait 'til you see your truck seat tomorrow, and then see how annoyed you are," Blair pointed out as he felt cool mud slipping up his bare butt and sliding against his neck.

"Is that why…" Jim paused and then pushed himself up on one arm, the mud making slurpy sounds around his splayed fingers. "Is that why you hesitated?" Jim asked. "Because I thought making love out in the great outdoors would be right up your alley."

Blair blushed. "Oh, the nature thing, and the whole spontaneously throwing me to the ground, yeah, I'm good with that, but you know you're going to hate yourself when Brown pokes fun at the hickey and your truck looks like someone left the windows down during a hurricane. Of course, we don't ever get hurricanes around here, so I'm not sure—"

Jim stopped him with a kiss. This time it was a long, slow kiss that gently explored the contours of lips.

"Chief, I don't care who at the station knows I love you as long as it isn't the brass who would split us up as partners. And as far as the truck goes, yeah, I'll take it to have the upholstery cleaned tomorrow, but you're a little more important than the truck."

"Yeah?" Blair asked with a slow, satisfied grin.

"Yeah," Jim answered before taking another kiss.

"So," Jim said as he rolled to the side, rain dripping off his nose as he fastened his pants. "I guess this makes you the rotten egg." Before Blair's brain could process the statement, Jim leapt up and started running for the truck.

"Hey, that's so cheating," Blair yelled as he hurried to tuck himself back in before starting after his partner. He had no hope of winning the race now, but he wasn't about to just give up. As he struggled up, shedding chunks of mud as he stood, he glanced at the man sized body-imprint in the mud and wondered what the gardeners would make of it tomorrow. Laughing, he turned and ran through the downpour in the direction of the truck and Jim.