Part Seven: Worth a Pound of Cure


"He's coming around," he heard someone say. "Back up, give him some air!"

"Wh-what?" Ellison said shakily.

"Ease up, Detective," the voice commanded. "You've taken a nasty shot to the head. Just sit tight, and the EMTs will be with you as soon as they can."

"Is he going to be alright?" he heard someone else ask.

"The EMTs will find that out in a couple seconds, ma'am. We've still got to sort out the mess you've made."

Ellison opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. "Wh-where am I?"

"You're at the McDonald's at seventeenth and Larchemont, Detective," smiled a uniformed officer. "And you're lucky to be alive. Go easy, okay? The EMTS will be right with you."



Jim sat up, and rubbed his eyes. "What... what day is it?" "It's Christmas Eve," said an EMT as he stooped down to check Ellison. He shined a light into his face, and Ellison winced. "Well, your pupils aren't dilated, so you don't have a concussion. That's good. You really have quite a thick skull, sir. Most people that've taken the shot you did don't even wake up for at least eight hours.... You've only been out ten minutes."

"Then they did it!" Ellison said happily. "I didn't miss it!"

"What the-?" the EMT said, taken aback. "Okaaaay, right. Let's get you to the hospital for observation."

"No time!" Ellison said as he leaped to his feet. "The robbers...?"

"Well, that's kinda complicated, sir," the officer said. "Seems after you were bushwhacked, your gun went flying across the store..."

"I caught it," Phoebe said with a wave.

"Uh, yes," the officer said. "She then fired your weapon upon the suspects, injuring the one that assaulted you, and held the other two who had feigned surrender as her prisoner under threat of similar action until we arrived."

"They were gonna SHOOT me," Phoebe accused with a pout. "That's gratitude for ya..."

"Ma'am, we were not aware of the situation," the officer explained.

"Phooey!" Phoebe sniffed. "Three guys in trenchcoats with their hands up, and you wanna act like -I- was the one at fault. Sheesh! Hello?!? Notice the McDonald's uniform?"

"Right, well, I think everything worked out okay," Ellison said. "You guys can take the collars, and get the security camera tapes as evidence.... I'll take the young lady into my custody."

"Okay, Detective," the officer said. "If you're sure..."

"Tut, tut," Ellison said with a broad smile. "The faster we get these guys run through, the faster we can get back to our families, right, Officer... uh?"

"Saunders," the blue suit replied.

"Officer Saunders, I'd like you to follow me in your patrol car, and these other fine officers can get these suspects squared away, all right?"

"Uh... sure. Is it okay if I asked why?"

"Crime in progress, Saunders. So let's go," he strode to the door. "Coming?" he asked.

"Right behind you!" Phoebe said, picking up Ellison's gun from the counter and bounding after him. Saunders stood his ground, clearly puzzled.

"Let's go, Officer Saunders," Ellison called, crooking his finger. "Chop chop!"

Phoebe and Ellison piled into his truck, and Saunders got into his patrolcar. Ellison put his light on the roof of the truck and pulled into the street. Saunders did the same, and put on his siren.

"Where are we going?" Phoebe asked lightly.

"Fifty-third and West Clark," Jim replied.

"How come?"

"We've got to help an old friend..."

Five minutes later, the two cars pulled up to the intersection, and Jim hopped out of the truck. "Wait here, I'll be back in a second," Jim told Phoebe.

"Better take this with you," she smiled as she handed him back his firearm.

"Right," Jim smiled. "You with me, Saunders?"

"Yes, sir, Detective," Saunders replied, drawing his pistol as well. "What are we doing here?"

"Our jobs, Saunders," Jim replied. "Let's go..."

"HELP!" someone called desperately.

"Police!" Ellison barked. "Free- Well, I'll be damned..."

"Don't just STAND there," Rudolph pleaded from his awkward position on the ground. "Get this rummy OFF me! He's gonna break my fuckin' ARM!"

"HEY!" Timmy called. "It'sh you! Fanshy sheein' you again..."

"Let go of the guy, and get your hands up," Saunders commanded. "NOW!"

"Saunders, relax," Ellison said chuckling. "Timmy's with us. Who you got there, soldier?"

"It'sh that guy what killed Shanta's buddy thish mornin'.... Tried to shlip me the shiv when I shaw him and shaid I shaw what he done, but it din't work out like he figgered; did it, Rudy?"

"I don't have ANY idea what this wino is talking about!" Rudolph stammered. "He's off his fuckin' nut. Get him the fuck OFF me already!"

"Crazy, is he?" Ellison smiled. "I guess that this ISN'T your switchblade, huh?"

"Fuck," Rudy cursed. "I mean, uh, NO."

"Cuff the scumbag, Saunders," Ellison commanded. "And after he does, Timmy, you can let him go."

"Aight," Timmy nodded.

Saunders stood amazed. "But... How the... How the hell did you know this was happening clear across town?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Ellison whispered.

"I guess..."

"Me, too," Ellison laughed, clasping Saunders on the shoulder. "Quite a collar, there, Saunders. Murder and robbery suspect. Could get you promoted..."

"You're giving ME this collar?" Saunder said, his eyes widening in surprise. "But... why?"

"You don't want it?" Ellison asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I didn't say THAT," Saunders coughed. "It's just... Well, shit! Thanks, Detective."

"No problem, officer," Ellison waved. "Just remember one thing, huh?"

"What?"

"Don't let yourself get distracted from what's really important, okay? Merry Christmas."

Sandburg took one last look at the apartment and rubbed away the tears that sprang to his eyes. He then shouldered his bags and reached to open the door when it almost knocked him down as it flew open. "Holy shit!" he yelped as he stumbled backwards off balance. Someone grabbed him by the collar before he fell, and he looked to see who it was. "JIM?" he exclaimed.

"Still here, are you?" Ellison demanded.



"I- I was just l-leaving," Sandburg stammered. "Where to?"

"I dunno, maybe get a temporary set-up at the dorm... It doesn't matter, I'll survive."

"What makes you so sure?" Ellison growled.

"Now wait just a minute... I'm getting, I'm getting! No need to get all feral..."

Ellison pulled Sandburg's bag off his shoulder, "No, Chief, I mean what makes you so sure you're leaving?"

Sandburg blinked in surprise. "What? Wasn't it you that told me to be out before you got back?"

"Uh huh... And yet here you still are... What do you think that means, professor?"

"I don't know," Sandburg gulped.

"After all we've been through, you think I'd be enough of an asshole to throw you out into the street on CHRISTMAS? Sounds to me like you need to do some more observation, Chief..."

"Wh-what are you saying?"

"You're not going anywhere, Chief," Ellison said as he clamped Sandburg in a bearhug. "Unless you want to, of course... But I think you should stay."

"Oops, I don't mean to interrupt," Phoebe blurted. "Say, he's really CUTE! Who's he?"

"Phoebe, allow me to present Blair Sandburg," Ellison said with a grand flourish. "My partner."

"Damn, just my luck," Phoebe grumbled.

"No, sweetheart," Ellison corrected. "He's my partner with the police-thing."

"Uh, charmed," Sandburg fumbled. "I serve as an advisor and observer to the Cascade P.D., and they've teamed me with Detective Ellison..."

"Likewise, I'm sure," Phoebe said lightly.

"Uh, how did you two meet?" Sandburg stammered.

"Oh, I spit on his hamburger," Phoebe replied. "Next thing you know I was shooting someone, and - "

"Yes, yes, that's fine," Ellison waved impatiently. "But we're on a schedule, here... Let's go, you two."

"Uh, is he okay?" Sandburg whispered.

"Seems fine to me," Phoebe said. "Considering he got socked in the chops with a shotgun... Why?"

"Nothing. Forget I asked," Sandburg sighed. Ellison stopped short and turned around.

"I see, you think I got knocked goofy, huh?" Ellison demanded, crossing his arms across his chest. "Maybe I did, but listen... Chief, I know I've been a mess lately; but I'm not anymore. It dawned on me that..."

"What?"

"That you were right, man. That this time of year IS special... TIME is special, and we shouldn't waste it feeling sorry for ourselves... I get it now, and I'm sorry for what I said. I was wrong, and I apologize..."

"Wow," Blair sighed in amazement. "I don't know what to say..."

"Well, think about it on the way, huh? We've got to get going! C'mon!" Ellison insisted, pulling them along behind him and stuffing them into the truck.

The double doors of the Major Crimes Unit flew open and James Ellison strode grimly in, flanked by Phoebe and Sandburg. A stunned hush came across the partiers as Ellison marched to the center of the place and looked around. "Goofing off, huh?" he said haughtily. "Drinking on the job, huh?"

"BUSTED," Rafe wheezed. Everyone lowered their faces, fully aware of the irony.

"Well, there's only one thing to say about that," Ellison snarled.

"Jim, wait a minute," Simon flustered. "This was my call, and-"

"Give me a minute, would you, Simon?" Jim said raising his hand to stop the captain short. "As I was GOING to say, there's just ONE thing to say about this deplorable display of unprofessionalism... And do you know what THAT is?"

Everyone looked up, and Megan sheepishly asked, "And what IS it?"

Ellison broke into a wide grin. "Where's MINE?" The congregation shot puzzled looks at each other as Ellison grabbed a beer. "Nevermind, here it is!" he beamed as he popped it open and chugged it. "Well? What's everyone standing around for? Is this a party or not?"

"What the hell happened to HIM?" Simon asked Sandburg as the party resumed. Several of the officers gathered around Jim and were patting him on the back or shaking his hand.

"I have NO idea, Captain," Blair shrugged. "But I wish it happened SOONER. How about you?"

"No argument there," Simon chuckled. "Who's your friend?"

"Phoebe Merriwether," she said shaking Simon's hand. "You'll read about me later, I think..."

"Fine," Simon sighed. "I don't think I want to know just now, anyway..."

Jim strode up and eyed the three of them suspiciously. "Say, Chief, it just occurred to me that maybe this isn't quite the place for the young lady..."

"What?" Blair and Phoebe said, poleaxed.

"So what you do, Chief, is you take this ticket, and you take these keys, and you get her to that Holiday Festival at the college..."

"But... What about you?" Blair asked.

"Yeah!" Phoebe added. "I thought YOU were taking me. Don't get me wrong, he's cute as a button, but..."

"Phoebe, I'd love to go with you, but I can't," Ellison said. "There's someone else..."

"WHO?" they both asked.

"Never you mind," Ellison said as he urged them to the door. "Just go and have a great time, okay? Merry Christmas. Now get the hell out of here."

"Right," Blair sighed offering his arm to Phoebe. "Shall we, milady?"

"Let's," Phoebe giggled taking it. The two of them briskly ambled off to Jim's truck, and the Detective went back inside.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Wh-what are YOU doing here?" Carolyn asked, scrubbing the tears from her face.

"I was, uh, in the neighborhood, and someone told me that you were feeling kinda down..."

"That fucking blabbermouth Rafe," she groused. "I'll break his neck."

"Hey, hey, cool your jets, dragonlady," Jim said softly. "We're all on the same team here, right?"

"Are we? I hadn't noticed," she snapped.

"Listen, I have to show you something," Jim whispered. "It's important."

"What?" she demanded.

"It's in this box," he replied, holding it out to her.

"If this is some lame ass joke, you'll be dead before you hit the floor," she grumbled as she opened it. "Hey, what gives? This is..."

"MISTLETOE!" Jim shouted as he kissed her.

She kissed him back.

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