Hi, I'm Blair Sandburg and I'm an angel. Yeah, yeah, I know, it sounds like the start of an AA meeting.
But I just like to get these little details out of the way up front.
Anyway, I think before we get started on this little tale, I should explain how I got to my present state.
It all started in eighteen fifty-two, when I ran away from home to join the circus. My mother had just remarried and her new husband wasn't prepared to take on another mans child to feed and clothe, so despite my mothers protestations, I left.
After wandering for a while, I hooked up with the circus.
I tried most things- trapeze- shit, no way. I get really freaked by heights.
Lion tamer- Are you kidding? I'm only a little guy, I wouldn't even have made them a decent hors d'oeuvre!
Eventually, I decided that the safest option was to become a clown. 'The joyful Pepito' they called me, yeah, I know..what a crap name. But, it put food in my belly and a roof over my head and Blair Sandburg was a happy guy.
One day, I was wandering through the animal enclosure, on my way to visit Emmanuella, the new contortionist.
Man, don't ask...what that woman could do with her body, wow!
Anyway, as I was saying, I was on my way to give Emmanuella her...English lessons, when I spotted something silver shining in the mud behind the elephant enclosure.
On closer inspection, I discovered that it was a silver dollar. Well, like I was going to walk on past and not pick it up? So, I dug my fingers into the mud and just as the coin flipped out into my hand, I heard a strange noise above me. Bimbo, one of the male elephants had gone nuts and charged through the back of the enclosure. I seem to remember the last thought I had was 'Man, elephants are huge'...lights out. He ran over me without even noticing I was there.
Goodbye Earth...Hello Heaven.
You know how you kind of expect Heaven to be all ethereal and peaceful? Well, it's not. It's like the Trump tower but with class.
Peter showed me into the waiting room and told me he'd go see if 'the Big Guy' was ready to see me.
I have to admit that I was a little puzzled and it has to be said, ever so slightly pissed. Hey, if you'd just been squashed to death by an elephant, you'd be pissed too.
When they called me into the office, I was a little taken aback to discover that there sat a grey haired guy in a suit. Yeah, a suit.
"Blair, my boy. Sit down," he smiled.
Nervously, I slid into the seat opposite him. Between us lay a pretty impressive desk. Ominously, to his left was an 'out' tray. I guess that's for the people who go to the 'other' place.
"Blair, I've studied your case and I must say that it's one of the...most unusual ways to shuffle off your mortal coil that I've come across in years," I'm sure at this point he brushed away a tear of mirth from his eye. "It was never meant to happen that way, I had you down for seventy years and death in bed with your next door neighbors wife."
"What, heart attack?" I asked with enthusiasm.
"No, son. An axe," he grinned, "But, since the other fella stepped in and ended your life prematurely, I have no choice but to try to make amends the only way I can."
My blood ran cold, "The 'other fella'?" I asked pointing downwards.
"Yes, he has an unusual sense of humor, doesn't he," the Big Guy smiled, "Blair, I can't give you back your own mortal life, but I can give you the next best thing. I can make you an angel."
"An angel? Me?" I gasped. Trust me, I am *so* not angel material.
"Yes. You will be sent to Earth on assignments, where you will correct 'mistakes' in peoples lives and then quietly slip from their existence. How does that sound?"
I thought for a moment, "Quietly?" I said with trepidation. You see, I've always had this problem with 'quiet'.
The Big Guy laughed, "Yes, Blair. Don't worry, you'll go through a period of training before we send you out. I have great faith in you, my boy. You have a special soul."
So basically, that's how it happened. I have to admit, that at first I was a little unhappy about the fact that my 'reward' for being 'pachydermised' was to get to work for a living for the rest of eternity.
Talk about death sucks!
But, I wasn't about to complain. Man, I'd seen the 'out tray' and heard about 'the other place'. That was where they sent everyone who pissed the Big guy off, like mass murderers, tax inspectors and game show hosts. I wasn't risking that, so I went through the training and qualified with flying colors.
Over the years I've had some really interesting jobs. I got to teach a dyslexic kid to read and he went on to become a doctor. The same doctor who found the cure to a deadly disease that had wiped out half of Europe. I also got to convince a young guy to follow his heart into acting. He went on to lead a nation.
Hey, man. I can't be held responsible for everything they do!
Cutting to the chase, I have a new assignment. The guy's name is James Ellison. He's a police officer and ex-ranger. A real hard-ass from all accounts, but, hey...I'm a professional, give me a month, he'll be voted in as 'man of the year' and will have taken up kissing babies and petting puppies.
I have to admit, our first encounter did not go well. Okay, I know I wandered in on him as he was dressing at the hospital and I made a pretty shitty job of passing myself off as a doctor...you think the prehistoric sneakers gave it away? Or maybe it was the fact that I couldn't remember what my name was?
Anyway, when we eventually met in my 'office' at the university he threw me up a wall and threatened to arrest me. Not the most auspicious of beginnings and maybe he wasn't going to be *quite* as easy as I thought, but do not fear, Sandburg's never give up!
I arranged for one of our stunt angels to almost run him down with a garbage truck so that I, the hero of the hour could save him, and thereby insinuate myself into his cold little world. Ellison was never in any real danger, Guido, our stunt angel, is the best in the business. Well, he was until the 'accident', but hey, everyone's allowed one really *big* mistake, right?
So, it came to pass that Jim Ellison and I hooked up. He's a real enigma you know. You'd be amazed at the things we've been through, yet he can still remain so cold and unapproachable at times, even to me.
Anyway, this story is about my mission to melt the frozen heart of Jim Ellison, hopefully without giving you all a serious sugar rush at the same time.
****************************************
That old warehouse was a seriously scary place, even for an angel. I'd arranged for Butch and Sundance, a couple of our explosive experts, and trust me, Heaven has a *lot* of those, to set the charges to go off after Jim had been there for a while, rendering me homeless and in need of shelter.
To this day, I'm not sure if it was me he took pity on or Larry.
He seemed to have a real connection with that ape.
But anyway, after being rendered homeless and giving Jim Ellison the whole Sandburg works, the eyes, the pout...hey, I know my strengths, right? He gave in and I moved my stuff into his home.
Man, what a cold place. Bare floors, bare walls, no wonder this guy was going weird.
"One week, Sandburg, that's what you said, isn't it?" Jim frowns.
"Yeah, man. One week and Larry and I are history, I swear!" I plead. Hey, I had my fingers crossed, okay?
"Now, don't make a mess..I hate mess. Don't make a noise..I hate noise. Don't wear powerful aftershave..I," Jim was ticking off the rules on his fingers
"You hate smells too, yeah, I got it," I try not to smile. I did wonder which he'd run out of first, rules or fingers?
I wander over and stand in front of him, grabbing him by the throat with my best puppy dog expression, I am a vision of attentiveness.
"And don't flush the toilet after ten p.m," he says with a scowl.
I couldn't help it, this just made me smile, was this guy for real? "What if I gotta 'go'?" I ask innocently.
Jim shifts from foot to foot uneasily, "Well, just don't flush the damn thing," he grumbles.
"I'd like to refer back to the 'don't like smells' rule," I remind him.
"Sandburg," he booms, in his 'remember I'm a big scary cop' voice, "Just do as you're told and we'll get along fine in the *few* days you're going to be here."
I bat my eyes and smile, "Okay, Jim. Anything you say, man." He gives me that look, the one I've come to know so well, the one that now says 'He gave in waaaay too fast, what's he up to?' but back then, it was just the mildly curious paranoia of a cop.
"I've put your stuff in the spare room and made up the bed," Jim says trying not to stare at me.
Jim Ellison might have Sentinel senses, but I have *angel* senses and one of the benefits of those, is the ability to 'feel' an emotional response in earth-bounds. Right now, Jim Ellison's aura was screaming 'What have I done? I've let a sixties reject with a pet ape into my home and I just *know* I'm gonna live to regret it!'
I give him the Sandburg smile again, just to make real sure that his defences are weakened enough for the final assault.
"Hey man, couldn't loan me some clean boxers and sweats could you?" I ask.
I see his entire body drop..well.. is he gonna go for it? Is he?
"Okay, just this once," he growls.
"Cool!" I grin.
YES!
Sandburg one, Ellison nil.
End Pt1
Part 2
It's funny, you know, being 'dead' myself, you'd think I wouldn't get all squicky about seeing earth-bounds dead, but I do. I walk into that place with Jim, and see that woman in the tub, a yellow scarf around her neck and the look of fear on her face and I am outta there.
The Cascade police department has been on the trail of this serial killer for a while and in my position as observer, I get to see everything first hand. The feelings of failure, the way each time someone else dies, they blame themselves a little. Like, if they were 'better cops', that person wouldn't have died. It's not true, of course, they had done everything humanly possible to find him and stop him.
Man, I wish I could help more.
One of the drawbacks of being an angel is that you have a number of advantages over earth-bounds, but you're not allowed to use them.
The ability to 'feel' emotion, is like a type of telepathy, you can sense fear, guilt, anger when none is evident. But if I use these abilities to help Jim and the others, I get into *serious* trouble with the Big Guy.
"Blair, my boy," He always smiles, "I know you feel compassion for the earth-bound and you're only trying to help, but we *cannot* interfere. We must let them work these things out for themselves. I know it's hard for you to stand by and watch them suffer, that's why I chose you for this job, you have a unique soul, but you *have* to abide by the rules. I wouldn't want to have to recall you."
That got my attention, if He recalls me, I'd have to abandon Jim, and he needs me.
Jim.
Ah, Jim Ellison.
I'd been dallying with a very cute earth-bound named Christine, when Jim came home unexpectedly and caught us.
Y'see, one thing they *don't* remove when you become an angel, is your libido. Which is like *totally* annoying.
So when he bellowed, "Sandburg, what the hell's going on?" through the crack in the door, I thought I'd blown it...big time.
One thing I have to say for Jim Ellison, rules are his life. And I figure that I just broke about six of the cardinal ones...including the one about making a mess on the sofa!
He storms through the door and pulls up sharp when he spots Chris just shimmying into her dress.
Deeply touched by all the 'Ellison charm' coming her way, she decides that the safest option is retreat and heads for the door at a rate of knots.
After Chris leaves and Jim gives me the standard Ellison lecture on how, if I'm going to hang with cops I need to eat raw meat and learn to belch the national anthem, we sit back on the sofa and just kinda chill together.
Of all the time I spend with Jim, these are the moments I most enjoy. When, just for a moment, he lets the mask slip away and I get to see the soul that lies beyond the macho barrier.
Contrary to popular belief, Jim's a complicated guy. He's big and tough, but so very vulnerable and surprisingly easy to hurt.
"So," Jim says between swallows of beer, "That girlfriend of the week?"
Uh ho
"No, not really. We're just friends," I reply.
Man, I could hear his bullshit detector hooting from across the room.
"So you get naked with all your friends?" he says suddenly.
Never let it be said that a Sandburg is slow to spot a potential hazard. Unless you count elephants of course.
"We were just discussing...theology," I smile.
Jim gives me that, 'you may be cute but I know you're lying' look, "Oh," he sighs, "So *that's* what you were doing? When I heard you gasping 'Oh God' I should have guessed."
Man..I hate a smart-ass.
After blowing the whole shooting match at the funeral, I was persona non-gratia at the PD and Jim was *mighty* pissed. Despite all of this, I knew that he'd defended me to Simon Banks when he suggested that it was me leaking the evidence to the press.
Is this guy a dream or what?
I'd like to take the time out right here to explain something. As angels among earth-bounds, we are cut a certain amount of slack by the Big Guy, who overlooks our minor indiscretions, such as sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Oh yeah, Elvis? He's one of ours.
But there is one great big hairy no-no.
Love.
Angels cannot feel love for earth-bounds.
You see love changes everything, it claims a soul. An angel's soul belongs to the Big Guy, so if you ever hear me use the 'L' word, I'm in deep shit!
Back to the plot.
This serial killer was making fools of the cops and really seriously screwing around with my mission. I needed Jim's undivided attention, and I wasn't going to get it until this bozo was caught.
So, I got myself kidnapped.
Shit, what a surprise, huh?
It transpired that this cross-dressing psycho was taking on the identities of his victims and had been playing 'doctor' at the PD for days before they found out that he was David Lash, not Dr Anthony Bates.
He tied me to a chair and decided to become me. Can you imagine that? This slimy little sociopath thought he could *become* Blair Sandburg.
Then, he began to mock *my* dress sense. This coming from a guy who looked like *shit* in black pantyhose. How bad do legs have to *be* to look that bad in black pantyhose?
Anyway, I digress. I held him off by baiting the hell out of him, until Jim charged to the rescue.
My hero.
He snatched the bindings from my wrist and ankles, then he did it.
Jim Ellison pulls me into his arms and hugs me. So tightly, that had I in fact been human, I'd need resuscitation.
"Are you okay?" he whispers in my ear.
"Yeah, man, I'm okay," I reply.
"Shit, Sandburg. I thought I'd lost you," he says so quietly I have to strain to hear.
"Won't get rid of me that easily, man," I smile.
Jim pulled back and just kinda looks at me. It's like he's reading every detail, seeing me inside out, trying to snatch a sliver of my soul with those pale blue eyes.
He reaches up and brushes back my hair, tucking it behind my ear.
"You look a mess, Chief," he whispers.
"Yeah, well so would you if you'd been playing dress up with a psycho all afternoon, man," I reply, trying to pull myself back together.
I have seen war, suffering and heartache in abundance. The joy of birth, reunited lovers and returning heroes. But I have *never* experienced anything like the look of relief on Jim's face when he realizes that I'm okay.
"You need any medical attention?" Jim says with a frown, patting me down for injuries.
"No man, I'm fine!" I say with a sigh.
"Does the gentleman need any help?" A female voice says suddenly from behind me.
As I turn around I feel my eyebrows detach and crawl under my scalp.
Hellllooo vision of loveliness!
Florence Nightingale is a cute little EMT in blue and my hormones are up and running before I know it.
I feel a pressure on my shoulder. Jim has grabbed me and is 'escorting' me from the building.
Okay... he's *dragging* me from the building.
"But Jim.." I gasp, "I could have hidden injuries... I might have damaged something."
He gives me that look and I hear the bullshit detector again.
"Sandburg," he sighs, "The only thing that can cure what you have, is neutering."
Part 3
I will never have it said that I am not a patient guy. I've sat through acceptance speeches at the Oscars every year since they started! But my patience with James Ellison is wearing a little thin.
After he rescued me from Lash's attempt to bore me to death, I figured that Jim and I would just fall into place and he'd start to accept so many things about himself that he was suppressing.
Not so.
When we get home, I suggest that we do some work on his Sentinel abilities and that we need to make him more self-sufficient in handling them. Jim mumbles something about how important I am to him and how we should 'take it slow' with the tests...no rush...what's the hurry? Then he bolts up the stairs to his bedroom and hibernates.
Okay, I can do slow.
But, Jim Ellison gives 'slow' a whole new meaning.
I'd had a call from The Big Guy, asking me for a report.
So? I'm shit with the ethereal paperwork, okay?
I was late sending in my last report on my progress in this mission..yes, yes all right, my last *seven* reports, and he wanted to know how it was going.
Did Jim still 'need' me?
Yes!
How long did I think I needed before he could handle this Sentinel stuff himself?
Too soon to tell.
Hey, my talent for mild obfuscation is legendary.
So, Jim happens to walk in just as I'm on the phone. I give him some bull about it being a Professor offering me a Borneo trip.
What do you expect? I tell him I was talking to God?
Man, he'd have *loved* that.
Hellooooo padded room.
He looks at me like I just shot his new puppy and clenches his jaw, muttering something about 'Doing what I gotta do'.
Oh man, how can I even think of leaving him this way?
Anyway, it came to pass that Jim and I found ourselves winging our way to Peru to try to save Simon and Daryl, who had been taken hostage by the bad guys.
Don't these people *ever* just have a normal vacation?
I found myself leaping out of an airplane, just so I could be with Jim.
And before you ask, yes, there *is* insanity in the family, there was great uncle Mortimer who thought he was a cabbage.
Man, everything went wrong from the start. I got hooked up in the trees... I never did get a handle on the wings, let alone a parachute.
Then found myself in the *jungle*.
Do you *know* how much jungle humidity screws up my hair? Man, the split ends I came back with.
Eventually, after fishing a lizard out of my pants, watched by a mildly amused and slightly baffled Jim Ellison, we set off to do the whole hero thing.
Jim's abilities were really troubling him at the time. He was finding accepting his Sentinel gifts hard and though I had done my best to ally his fears and help him channel them, there's only so much that even an angel can do. Jim has to learn to accept himself, before he can truly embrace the talents The Big Guy has given him.
We both sit by the campfire that night. Jim has that far away look on his face as we talk and I can't help but admire how comfortable he is in these surroundings.
With the light from the fire, you can see in the shadows, the planes of muscle working as he grits his teeth and his jaw twitches.
Man, I lo...really like this guy.
<Phew>
He suggests that we get some rest and I made a cheap remark about me resting more easily if I had a nice native girl to sleep on.
Jim just growls and shoots me a disgusted glance, like the kind visitors give your dog when he's humping their leg.
So, I lie down and try to picture Claudia Schiffer naked to lull me to sleep.
I'm not sure what happens with Jim that night, The Big Guy insists that *He* has nothing to do with it, no visions, no burning bushes, none of that shit, but *something* happens and Jim comes to terms with what it is to really be a Sentinel.
Once he's embraced his unique abilities, we finally get the hero stuff out of the way, save Simon and Daryl and head home.
Home.
Shit, that's *really* is how I see this place now.
I'm sitting looking around the loft and like a proverbial thunderbolt, it hits me.
This is no longer a 'mission'.
It's about friendship.
For the first time, I look at Jim Ellison and I *see*.
I see a beautiful man with a tender heart and a special gift, but most of all I see my *friend*.
And it scares the living daylights out of Blair Sandburg: horny angel for hire.
When Jim suggests that I ring the Professor back, I tell him that I've made my decision, that I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here... with him.
I wish you could see the look on his face, that expression of pure, unadulterated joy and relief.
Oh hell...I *like* this guy, *so* much!
We wander out onto the balcony and I can't help but indulge in a little 'Ellison adoration fest'. I tell him how wonderful he was out there in the jungle.
So primal.
So controlled.
He smiles and tells me that we should just be glad to be home.
Home.
Definition: Where ever Jim Ellison is.
As we wander back into the loft, Jim thinks that I don't see his spirit guide perched up on his bed.
Like you can miss over two hundred pounds of jaguar? I just hope the damned thing hasn't left hair all over the place again, I'm going to be coughing up fur balls for a week.
Just as I reach us another beer from the fridge, I hear Jim's voice.
"Blair?" he whispers.
"Yeah, Jim?" I answer, for some reason I'm scared of what he's about to say.
"Thanks for coming with me, I just want you to know how much it meant to me to have you there," he says. He's up close behind me, I can feel the tension in his body and I know that he's finding the words difficult.
"That's what friends are for, man," I say trying to be *so* cool.
"You've gone way beyond that for me," he says a little awkwardly, "I love you, Chief. I don't know how I'd cope without you."
No, no, no, no, no!
"Jim, I..." for the first time in my life..and death, I'm speechless. Because the only words I want to say, I can't...ever.
"It's okay, I know you're not big on commitment and you've probably already got your next research subject lined up..."
I swing around to face him, I just can't let him go on saying those things, because they're not true. If there was any way..*any* way I could stay.
"Don't say that," I snap, then as the hurt in his eyes penetrates my very soul, I look up and smile, "Jim, you're my best friend *ever*. I enjoy every moment I'm with you and I wouldn't swap the last year for *anything* man, I swear. You're the most important thing in the world to me."
I try to slow myself down, as usual I'm running off at the mouth and I have to be careful what I say... 'He's' always listening.
"Jim, man, I'm here until you no longer need me, okay?"
Jim smiles and nods, "I'll always need you, Chief," he says quietly, not meeting my eyes.
"Hey, always is a long time. Let's put it this way, don't you get giving those Jags tickets to Simon and Daryl. I'll still be here for that!" I joke.
Jim reaches up and ruffles my hair playfully, "You're buying the burgers this time," he smiles.
"Oh, Jim. Not burgers," I gasp with a sick sensation uncurling in my stomach.
"Uh hu," he nods, "Oh Chief? Thank you...For everything."
Thank *me*? Holy shit, I'm the one who should be blessing deities for landing a job like Jim Ellison.
Man, I'd sit through the director's cut of 'Waterworld' for this guy.
Because I....
I...
Oh man.
End Part 3