"Sandburg, do you have any of my sweatshirts?" Jim Ellison called down to his roommate.

"Uh, which ones, man?" Blair Sandburg answered as he finished cleaning up in the bathroom after taking his shower.

"The green `Puget Sound' logo and the blue `Jags'."

Blair went to his small bedroom and opened the middle drawer of his dresser.

"Yeah, I've got the blue one, sorry Jim."

"If it's clean, could you bring to up?"

After a few moments a fully dressed Blair Sandburg jogged up the stairs with the missing item, his long hair still damp from the shower. He gave a puzzled look at the boxes on his friend's bed. "What's going on man?" A familiar wisp of fear floated through his chest. Was Jim leaving?

"Just boxing up my winter clothes, I'm missing one sweatshirt." He lightly sniffed the blue cotton garment handed to him, nodding his head, he added it to the others in the box.

"You box up clothes for summer and winter?" The younger man asked incredulously, his fear safely withdrawing back into childhood memories.

"It saves room in the closets, Junior. Less clothes cause less wrinkles."

Blair failed to restrain a short burst of laughter, holding up his hands, palm out, as a promise to get under control again quickly.

"Okay, okay. Let me think a minute. The green one you wear only when it rains, right?"

"I do not!" Jim denied.

"Yes, you do Jim." He correctly read the expression on the taller man's face. "Hey, I'm an anthropologist, remember? I tend to study habits!"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Riiiight!"

"Hey, I remember now! You ripped it during the Schneider chase! When you went over that fence. You tossed it, man." He announced it like a kid that had guessed the right door and was waiting for his prize.

"Oh, yeah. That's right."

Sitting in the passenger seat in the spotlessly clean Ford F150 truck, Blair glanced over at the profile of the man driving.

"Ya know, Jim, I had a roommate when I first started at Rainier that wore his T-shirts and underwear inside out on days he had to take a test."

"Too much information, Darwin." Jim reported. He reached for the cell phone that had started to softly ring. "Ellison."

"Jim. I need you at 311 Waterfront Drive for a D.B."

"We're on it, Simon."

"Uniforms are there now. This stands to become a high profile case, even if it turns out to be natural causes."

Jim groaned, why did they always get the media circus? "Who was it?"

"Richard Nehring of Evergreen Timbers. Big dollar signs attached to this one, Jim."

"All right, we're about fifteen minutes out."

Jim explained the phone call in route. In exactly fifteen minutes and forty-five seconds, Detective Ellison parked his truck and paused to turn to his unofficial police partner. "You want to stay out here?"

Blair looked in awe at the large brick mansion with prize winning landscaping. Police units and the medical examiner's van were parked in the circular cobblestone drive in front of massive steps leading to a double door.

"No way, man. I got to see how the other side lives... I mean lived."

Ellison nodded to the uniform that met them at front door. They were led to a private sitting room.

Picking up the order of vomit as he neared the room, Jim took a few breaths through his mouth as he mentally adjusted his dials. Sandburg brought his hand up to cover his nose.

"Eww, man. Dial it down, Jim," he whispered.

The body of a fit mid-forty man was laid out on an expensive looking carpet. The deceased had vomit drying on his shirtfront and pants. The medical examiner greeted the detective with a curt nod.

"Morning Dan, got anything for me yet?"

"Could be heart failure. Witnesses reported nausea, not unusual in heart attacks."

Blair peaked over Jim's shoulder. "Wow, he's young. Looks like your age, Jim." He noted in a low voice.

Ellison agreed with a grimace. He glanced around the eloquently furnished room decorated with a man's taste. A thin man in a suit was being interviewed by another uniform. Jim guessed employee.

"This is Seth Jacobson. He was Mr. Nehring's personal secretary." The uniformed officer informed.

"Detective Ellison." He shook hands with Jacobson, a balding man in his early thirties. His skin was pale and eyes reddened from emotions. "I'm sorry about your boss. Can I talk to you in a few moments?"

"Sure. I have to make some phone calls right now anyway." He said swallowing hard. "I'll be a few door's down when you need me."

"Thank you."

Snapped on a pair of non-latex gloves, Ellison let his eyes roam the room. He noted the artwork hanging on the walls, the fine furnishing and collection of brass sculptures displayed on a shelf over a small desk.. The contents of this room alone would make the loft payments for a year.

"Was anyone else in the house?"

The uniform nodded. "A housekeeper." He glanced down at his notebook. "Estelle Curry. She's in the kitchen. Do you want me to get her?"

"No." He turned to Blair. "Chief, you want to go wait with the house keeper for me? I'm going to be a few more minutes in here and then I'll join you."

Blair looked happy to escape. "You sure, man? You don't need me here?"

"Go ahead." He looked back at the uniform. "Could you show my associate to the kitchen?"

Blair had never seen a kitchen as equipped as the one he stood in at the moment. It was huge. Natural sunlight poured in from large skylights. Professional sized stainless steel appliances gleamed ready to prepare banquets for large parties.

"Mrs Curry?"

A thin woman with hair that matched her stove and refrigerator looked up from the breakfast nook she was sitting at.

"Yes, may I help you?"

"I'm Blair Sandburg. I'm an observer with the Cascade police department. I'm so sorry about your boss." He crossed the large stone tiled floor. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

Estelle stood, her eyes swollen and red from crying. "Would you like some coffee or tea?"

Blair looked over at the coffee maker setting next to a large vase of fresh wildflowers on a nearby counter. "Please, you just sit. I'll make the coffee for both of us." He charmed her with a smile and started fixing a pot.

"Wow, this kitchen is amazing!

Estelle produced a tearful smile. Standing, she moved over to a cupboard to take down a red and white box of cookies. "Yes, I love working here. Mr. Nehring hates to eat out.." She paused, closing her eyes briefly and swallowing hard. "Hated to eat out, only did it when he was forced to for business. He was a very good cook." She returned to the small table by the large windows.

"Really?"

"Yes. Sometimes he would find a new recipe and we would try it out together." She ended almost in a whisper, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

Blair snagged a box of Kleenex and joined her at the table.

She smiled and pulled out two fresh tissues. "He was very particular about what he ate. In fact, he would refuse to even allow anything unhealthy in the house." She picked up the box of `Lu' cookies. "His one exception was my favorite cookie. I love them. He always made sure we had at least one box in the cupboard. I just can't believe he's had a heart attack! He just had a check up last month."

"You must have been working with him for a long time." Blair asked.

"Over ten years." She offered a cookie and took one for herself.

"I've been trying to get my roommate to eat healthy, but it's a real up hill struggle." Blair confided, biting into the square cookie with a layer of hard chocolate on top. Wow! These are good."

"Mr. Nehring was obsessive about his health." She admitted. "He avoided any additives or chemicals."

"Hard to do now a days." Blair said, getting up to pour two cups of coffee. He studied the flowers in the vase next to the coffee maker. "These are nice flowers. Do you grow them?"

"Heavens, no. I don't know the first thing about flowers. Mr. Nehring gave them to me last night." She accepted the cup from Blair as he returned to sit.

"Special occasion?"

"No, I believe they were delivered to him, but he didn't want them. He gave them to me."

"Sanburg?"

"In here, Jim!" Blair waived the older man over and made introductions.

Ellison pulled out a chair and joined them at the table. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may Mrs. Curry." He pulled out a small notebook. Blair got up and set a third cup if coffee down on the table.

"Did your employer complain of any health problems recently?"

Estelle shook her head, "He was fine. He'd gone to his doctor last month and got a wonderful report. He took vitamins and only ate healthy organically grown food. Wouldn't touch red meat. I was telling Blair that he hardly ate out in restaurants, didn't trust them to use pesticide free ingredients."

"Did you see him this morning?" Jim asked gently.

She blinked as her eyes became bright with tears. "Yes, he told me he was feeling sick to his stomach and he would like some plain toast and tea. I took a tray into his study, and... found him.."

Blair laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Is there someone we can call for you? A relative or friend that can sit with you?"

Smiling through her tears, she shook her head. "My daughter is on her way. But thank you, dear."

"We're done, Ms Curry. I'm sorry to upset you."

She stood up and gave them a watery smile. "Blair, thank you for making the coffee. I'm going to lie down in my room. Please use the intercom on the wall if you need anything."

Both men rose to their feet. Jim waited until the housekeeper was out of sight before he spoke.

"The ME is getting ready to take the body. We're going to play it safe and treat this as suspicious until we talk with the wife. She's in New York. Should be flying back late tonight." He helped himself to a cookie.

"Jim I think this is a little strange." Blair said, sliding his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Wow, why don't we have cookies like these at home?" Jim asked examining the little schoolboy logo in the chocolate.

Blair reached out and snagged the open box and returned it to the cupboard. "Because they are not good for you man. You get enough empty calories from your donuts."

Jim rolled his eyes and popped the remaining bit into his mouth. "So what do you think is strange, Nero?"

"Who?"

"Never mind, Chief. Tell me what you're thinking."

Blair walked over to the coffee pot. "Well it's just this guy is a real health freak, right?"

Jim nodded, "Yeah, I got the same from his secretary. He almost makes you look normal."

"Ha ha, Jim. Did he tell you about his aversion to any type of additive or harmful chemical?"

"You mean like using brown coffee filters and stuff?"

"Right, now I'm guessing that most of his friends knew about that. I mean look at us. I'm just being reasonable when I try and eat healthy, yet the guys in Major Crime love to give me grief."

"So what's your point, junior?." Ellison asked finishing his coffee and looking longingly at the cupboard where Sandburg put the box of cookies.

Blair pointed to the flowers. "Why would someone send these flowers to a guy like Nehring. These are Foxgloves, man."

"What glove?"

"Foxglove, you know `Digitalis'. It grows wild here."

Jim shook his head. "I've seen it up in the foot hills. Why wouldn't Nehring want them, there nice." He stood and walked over to touch one of the large bells that hung from a tall stock. The symmetrical bells were pinkish-lavender in color with red dots on the lower side of the interior. The blooms were over a foot high.

Blair slapped his hand away. "Don't! They're toxic, man. With your senses, you shouldn't be touching them!"

Jim snatched his hand back. "You called it digitalis? Like the heart medicine? "

"This is where they get it from, Jim. It's a medicinal flower. It's been a while since I've studied this, but I know it's classified as a counter stimulant. It stops the heart."

"You're kidding!" Simon fingered his unlit cigar, looking at his best detective with surprise.

"No, sir. I was just going through the motions there and Blair sits down for a chat with the housekeeper and blows the case wide open!" He shook his head with a rueful grin.

"A flower, right?"

"Yep, Dan found the toxin in the guys stomach, right away." He pointed to the open file on Simon's desk. "He says Nehring presented classic signs of digitalis poisoning. Nausea, vomiting and irritation of the gastro-intestinal mucous membrane."

"Have we located how the drug was taken? He didn't just start gnawing on the leaves, did he?"

"Dan found some half dissolved gel caplets. I'm guessing the vitamins, I've had them collected for tests. We should know soon."

Simon leaned back with a chuckle. "What'dya know, the kids a natural. Where is he now?"

"At the U today. He'll be by this afternoon."

"So what've you got so far?"

Jim referred to his notes. "The wife got in last night, she checks out. No family problems, married almost ten years. No children. She produces work-out videos, seems to be into the health craze like her husband." He flipped a page.

"No idea where the flowers came from. We're lifting some good prints off the vase and comparing them with the secretary and housekeeper. I'm thinking they got delivered at work and he brought them home. Both the secretary and housekeeper have been employed for around ten years, both seem to sincerely like the guy. I'm going to interview the employees this afternoon at `Evergreen Timbers'. The corporate office reopens at noon. I guess losing the CEO shut everything down for a while."

"Take Sandburg. Who knows, maybe he'll do it again." Simon grinned. " I've got the media pounding on the Chief's door, which causes the Chief to kick at my door- you get the drift detective?"

"You're coming in loud and clear, Sir." Jim smiled and headed out.

"Sign our petition, sir?" A man about Blair's age asked the pair as they approached the front door to Evergreen Timbers' headquarters.

"What's it about?" Blair asked, stopping to read the paperwork with the heading `Stop the Slaughter!'.

"Evergreen is raping our forest! They are clear cutting our national lands without regard for wildlife or trout streams." His eyes flashing in anger. "We need a committee of experts not on Evergreen's payroll to watch that the logging is done correctly."

Blair took the pen and signed his name, adding his Rainier phone number and address next to it.

"It's a good cause, I hope you get your signatures." He smiled, noticing his roommate was already in the building. "Excuse me, I'd better catch up with my friend."

"Sure, thanks. Are you meeting someone here?"

Blair hesitated, not wanting to blurt out that he was helping the police investigate the death of the head of Evergreen Timbers. "Yeah, we have an appointment. Good luck!" He waived and trotted through the doors to meet up with the cop.

"Another cause, Chief?" Jim quipped, looking up at the elevator light. The door slid open and they stepped inside.

"It's a serious environmental issue, dude." He answered. "Without proper greenbelts, clear cutting can affect the animals and fish. They need the shade and the trees to prevent erosion and silt from building up in the waters."

On the seventh floor the two men were asked to wait in an outer office while a very professionally dressed woman in her twenties advised the acting CEO that the police had arrived. Blair smiled to be included in the description of `the police'.

They were ushered into a nice office with oak furniture that gleamed from fresh polish belonging to Chuck Pierce. A red headed man shook their hands with a strong grip.

"Please have a seat, how's the investigation going? I understand you believe Richard was poisoned?" He asked, his tone suggesting how ludicrous the idea seemed.

"We believe so. Did your boss receive a bouquet of flowers here yesterday?" Jim asked, making himself comfortable in the leather chair.

Pierce pursed his lips and shook his head. "Don't know, actually. I didn't talk to him yesterday. Did you ask his secretary? He'd know."

"We did, he had no idea."

"Let me ask the receptionist downstairs." He picked up a handset and punched two buttons on the base. After the question was repeated and answered, the receptionist downstairs appeared in person with a logbook that she nervously laid on her boss's desk.

"These police detective's would like to ask you a few questions." The red-haired man explained.

The college-aged girl turned to Jim with large doe eyes.

Jim smiled kindly, "Do you happen to remember who brought the flowers?"

"Um. Yes. A young woman delivered them. We don't allow deliveries past the first floor, so I called up to let Mr. Jacobson know they had arrived, but Mr. Nehring answered himself and said he would pick them up in a few minutes, cause he was leaving soon." She paused to draw in a shaky breath.

"And she signed in?" Jim prodded.

She nodded and pointed to the logbook. "Right there. I'm afraid at the time I didn't read it..." Her eyes began to tear as her chin quivered. "I swear, if I had read it before. I would have told some one that it was fake!"

Jim stood to read the ledger, Blair by his side. In flowery script was the signature. `Uma Thurman'.

"Oh, man!' Blair exclaimed.

"I don't get it, Jim." Banks frowned at the photocopy of the ledger in the file.

Blair bounced on his toes with excitement. "What! Not you too, Simon!" He grinned gleefully.

Jim sighed and rubbed his right hand across his chin. "Okay, apparently `Uma Thurman' is an actress. So we know that more than likely it's a fake name. We have a description from the receptionist and she's coming down in an hour to work with our police artist."

"Okay..." Simon waived his hand in the `give me the rest' signal.

"Batman!" Blair blurted out.

"What!" The captain's face showed complete confusion. "What are you babbling about, Sandburg?"

Jim held out both hands. "This does tie in, sir, give him a minute."

Blair grinned and nodded like the little dog in the back window of a low-rider. "You know, Batman and Robin-" He stopped himself when he noticed the look Simon was now giving him. "Okay, right. Well, Uma Thurman played POISON IVY! Get it! She had to be behind the murder!"

"Poison Ivy?"

"In the movie, Thurman plays a villain that had environmental issues. Now Evergreen Timbers has some environmental groups making claims that they're not leaving enough green belts on federal lands after they log." Jim reasoned, trying to sound like a real cop and less like a comic book fanatic. "We even got approached by a man getting signatures for a petition when we interviewed Pierce. Evergreen is putting a list together of group names that have filed grievances over their timber operations, but it's bound to be a big list."

Banks shook his head and sat wearily on his chair, leaning his elbows on his desk and letting his head fall into his open palms. He peered at the unlikely team through his fingers. "Does this make me Commissioner Gordon?"

Blair's grin stretched wider. "More like Police Chief Oh-"

Jim snagged the younger man's head in an arm lock, clamping a large hand over his mouth. "Let's just get out of here, Darwin. CAPTAIN Banks needs a little time to `process' this newest development." He dragged the snickering man out of the office, believing where the head went, Blair's body was sure to follow.

He smiled as he heard his boss murmur to himself, "To the bat poles, Robin!"

The next morning was Saturday. By agreement, Jim and Blair would put in a few hours on the case, and then take the afternoon off. Blair woke to the sound of soft rain hitting his window. The northwest was famous for its fickle weather patterns. Two or three nice days followed by a return to winter.

Standing by the coffee maker, Blair watched the dark liquid drip at a frustratingly slow rate. Finally judging there was enough for one cup, he pulled out the carafe and tilted it enough to pour into his mug, yet still catch the drips.

Jim emerged from the bathroom, clean-shaven and fresh from his shower.

"You're going to ruin the burner doing that! You'll spill coffee on it."

"I got it, man." He replaced the carafe and held up the cup in triumph. Eyeing the older man, he smirked has he brought the mug up to his mouth. "Nice color on ya, big guy."

Puzzled, Jim looked down as his tan Dockers and long sleeve shirt. Oh. Green. "Stow it, Sandburg." He growled.

Armed with copies of the police sketch, they returned to the home of Richard and Bonnie Nehring. Mrs. Curry met them at the door, greeting Blair warmly. Sandburg gave her a hug and a box of `school boy' cookies.

"Oh, you're so sweet! Please come back to the kitchen before you leave." She invited. "I have some whole wheat spice fig treats fresh out of the oven!"

Blair waggled his eyebrows. "Sure, you don't have to ask me twice, we'll be there!"

She left them in a different sitting room, decorated with bright yellows and cornflower blues, assuring them that Mrs. Nehring would be down in a moment.

"Sure, she gets those cookies, I get whole wheat fig thingies." Jim muttered under his breath.

Blair hit him lightly. "Relax, I picked up a box for the loft. But you're on rations, man."

Mrs. Nehring entered; she was as tall as Jim, beautiful in an athletic way, with her blond hair pulled back into a bouncy ponytail. She was dressed casually in expensive sweats and matching tennis shoes.

"Detective Ellison. Mr. Sandburg." She greeted them in a sad voice. Motioning to the sofa, she sat in an overstuffed armchair in matching fabric. "Have you learned anything new?"

"We have a police sketch of the woman that delivered the flowers to you husband's office. We were hoping you could tell us if it's anyone you recognize." Jim laid the copy on the teak coffee table.

She picked it up and studied the face, turning it towards the light cast from a table lamp next to her chair. Finally she shook her head. "No. I don't believe I know anyone who looks like this." She sadly handed the sketch back. "I still can't believe anyone would want to murder Richard."

"Do you mind if we take this back to Mrs. Curry and talk to her?" Jim asked.

"Please, I'm working in my studio if you need me." She crossed her arms across her front. "I find working to be the best way to relax. At least I'm tired enough to rest at the end of the day." She smiled wistfully and led them to the kitchen, leaving them with the housekeeper and another woman.

Estelle Curry introduced her visitor. "This is my daughter, Diane."

Jim smiled as Blair shook her hand. The small table by the window was set up with fresh coffee and baked goods. Jim had to admit they smelled tasty enough to cause his mouth to water. Diane invited the men to sit around the table and played hostess for her mom. She was a younger version of her mother, her hair just beginning to show strands of gray.

"Mom spoke very kindly of you Blair. I want to thank you for staying with her." She handed a cup to the young man with a warm smile.

"I enjoyed it. I'd love to come back sometime and learn how to make these," he admitted after taking a bite and swallowing.

Estelle patted his hand with a grin. "That would be fun. We could swap recipes!"

Jim and Diane exchanged looks, "Why do I get the feeling Blair's idea of good food runs towards soy products and seaweed?" She stage whispered to the tall cop.

Jim leaned closer. "You'd make a great detective. You nailed it with one guess. You do not want to know what he puts in the blender every morning." He gave a shudder and popped the rest of the baked square in his mouth. Pulling out the copy of the sketch, he smoothed it down on the tabletop. After politely swallowing, he asked if either woman recognized the person that it was intended to portray.

The women took turns examining the paper, passing it back and forth between them while the men finished their coffee. The problem with a lot of police sketches was it often had vague features, mostly due to vague memories. Thanks to Blair's early insight into the flowers, the receptionist did a fairly decent job describing the woman. She had remembered a mole on one cheek and the way her hairline had an attractive dip on her forehead.

Estelle shook her head. "I feel like I should know her, but I can't place it. Who is she?"

"She delivered the flowers at Evergreen." Jim informed them both. "We just want to question her. She might know something useful. We'll be releasing the photo soon to the public and flower shops, but we thought we'd run it by here first."

Diane frowned. "I may be totally wrong here, but she looks a little like a friend of mine. She works part time at a nursery in the north end. You remember, Mom. She brought you the plants for the Bancock Dinner a few weeks ago."

"Oh, sure honey. That's why she seemed familiar. Very nice lady. Beautiful arrangements. Mrs. Nehring was very pleased with them."

Jim got that familiar tingling when a case was about to take an important turn. "She was here, in the house?"

Both women nodded innocently.

"I can't be sure, but it looks a little like Willow." Diane commented.

"Willow?" Blair squeaked, then cleared his throat. "Wow, that's a cool name, sort of like the tree right?"

Diane smiled fondly. "She's a bit of a `hanging-on-hippie'. She likes the incense, hemp clothing, and beads. She's wonderful with plants. A real activist with environmental issues."

"Do you think you could give me the name of that nursery? We'd like to talk with her. Do you know if she working today?" Jim asked.

With the full name of Willow Alwin, a description of the vehicle she drove and the name of the north end business firmly in hand, both men thanked the mother and daughter. Pulling away from the large house, Blair bounced in his seat.

"No Way! It can't be this easy!"

Smiling, Jim reached for his cell phone. "I doubt she ever expected us `flat footed cops' to catch on so quickly, Sandburg." He hit the speed dial for Simon and caste a glance over to his passenger. "If we end up getting lucky, I'm going to start calling you the `boy wonder'."

Blair froze like a deer in headlights. "You wouldn't! Jim! Promise me you won't call me that. I already have enough nick names."

"Simon? We've got a lead on the sketch. She was in the house about two weeks ago so she had an opportunity to slip the poison into the vitamins. I need a few plain clothes to meet me at `All Things Living' nursery on northeast 34th...right....yeah, some small two way's would be great.....thanks, sir."

Jim held a small strategy meeting with Detectives Harris and Till in the parking lot of the upscale nursery. Both detectives had answered Banks all-page and were willing to give a few hours just to get away from the paperwork they were plowing through on their desks.

Their plan was simple. Adam Till would wait by the entrance to the parking lot, just in case their subject got around them. It turned out that Fran Harris was a gardener. She had been at the nursery before and knew the layout. Ellison instructed her to head for the public sector. Jim and Blair would find he manager and start in the back where the employees worked.

"Man, who knew there were so many different plants." Blair commented as his eyes roamed the acres of trees, shrubs and flowering plants. His eye spotted the familiar tall stocks of foxglove. "Look, Jim."

Ellison nodded. "Keep a sharp eye out, Chief."

A pleasant rotund lady with gardening gloves inspected Jim's badge and led them back to the potting shed.

"Willow is working with the water lilies right now. She's due for a break soon anyway." She slid open a large rolling door to a long arch shaped greenhouse with a large fan at each end. Plants hung from the support system overhead and lined the tables on each side. Two or three women were working at the tables, hands into the potting soil. Pleasant music drifted from a small portable stereo at one end. "I don' see her. Lets try the barn where we keep the bagged soil."

A small red house finch darted over the two men's head and flew into the greenhouse.

"Whoa!' Blair laughed. "Aww, man. Now he's trapped." He watched the bird land on an overhead support near the closed back door. Blair started down the isle in a trot. "I'm just going to open the back door for him."

The manager laughed. "They do this all the time, we can't keep them out." She pointed to some red lengths of tape that hung from some of the overhead plants. "We mark the plants that they build nest in. It can get real noisy when the eggs start hatching."

Blair reached the back and rolled the door open a few feet. "Okay fella, there you go!" He waived his arms at the small bird.

"Come on, Blair. They live in here!" Jim called with an exasperated grin.

"Oh." Blair called out. "I didn't know that! Do you want me to close this door or..." He turned to look at the manager when he saw a woman crouching down behind a potting table a mere five feet from him. "JIM!"

She sprang to her feet and shoved a small metal canister into his face, hitting him with a fine spray of mist just as Blair inhaled. Pushing hard, she sent him tumbling. He landed in a heap causing a small avalanche of large plastic trays to cover him. Without a backward glance the woman was gone through the opened door.

"Shit!" Jim broke into a run, palming his radio. "Suspect is heading east on foot from the potting shed. Blue jeans, black windbreaker. Harris cut her off! Till start an ambulance and back up!" He skidded to a halt near his partner, "Sandburg!" He reached into the mess and latched onto an elbow, pulling hard. Blair emerged with both hands over his face, coughing, eyes tearing. He pushed at Ellison with one hand.

"Go! Go! I'm okay!" Blair choked out.

That was all the encouragement the cop needed. Without a word, he disappeared through the door.

The chase was short, thankfully. Harris rounded a blind corner of a wooden shed in a run. Willow was looking over her shoulder as the female detective hit her with a flying tackle. The canister flew out of her hands, rolling under a large rhododendron.

When Jim arrived, Harris had her cuffed and was reciting the Miranda warning. Reaching down with both hands, he jerked the cuffed woman to her feet.

"What was in that canister!?" He shouted into her face, shaking her hard. The woman's eyes widened in fear. She stuttered a few attempts to answer. But her efforts were not fast enough for the enraged Sentinel. He gave another hard shake. "TELL ME!"

"Pepper mace...with...oil from a... dieffenbachia..." She whispered in terror.

Jim's blood ran cold. This woman more than likely killed a man with a pretty flower. What had she done to Blair? "In English! What was with the mace?" He demanded softly through clenched teeth.

Willow found the quiet cop more frightening than the loud one. "Dumb cane.."

Harris's face looked shocked. "Oh my God!" She reached under the bush and pick up the canister.

Jim panicked. This didn't sound good; he began to trot back towards Blair, pulling the prisoner along, Harris by his side.

"What's that going to do to him?" He extended his hearing as he asked. Hearing his partner calling his name in fear, he thrust the woman into Harris's arm and ran for the greenhouse.

Blair was sitting where he'd fallen, leaning forward over his crossed legs. Looking up as Jim entered, Sandburg looked scared, no terrified. Tears streamed from red eyes.

"Blair?" He knelt down next to his friend.

Till was kneeling on the other side, while the manager stood behind. Blair had both hands up to his neck in the universal `choking' gesture.

"Jimmm. " he wheezed out with difficulty. He grabbed the front of the cop's jacket in a panic as Jim watched him labor to breathe back in.

"Oh, God. No." Jim noted the blue tinged lips. He was suffocating.

Harris stood watching with the prisoner. "Dumb cane, it swells the air passage!"

"I've called for medics, Jim."

Jim straightened Blair's legs out and slid an arm under his knees and the other around his back. He wasn't going to wait. "Hold on, partner." He whispered, lifting the younger man like a weight lifter, with his back straight up and down. He nodded to the other detectives. "We'll meet them in route."

Blair circled his right arm around his roommate's neck and fought to breathe. He was tiring as his chest muscles worked to pull air past the swollen tissue.

The unusual parade got more than a few strange looks as they hurried through the rows of greenery. Jim reached his truck only to stand with his friend in his arms, unable to unlock the door. Blair's head had sagged over to lay on Jim's shoulder. His breathing was accompanied by whistles that Jim remembered from his days as a medic. Stridors, caused by the upper airway becoming obstructed. He gave a sharp shake. "Come on! Chief! Stay awake here!"

"Ellison! Here!" Till had the back door to his large sport's utility vehicle open. They slid the unresponsive anthropologist into the seat.

"I'll call fire dispatch, tell them we're meeting them in route." Till stated, closing the door behind the tall detective and police observer. He jumped into the front seat and turned the car towards the road.

"Blair!" Jim pulled the smaller man to him. He listened carefully to Blair's lungs. There was a small amount of air moving into his lungs. His breathing had not completely stopped. Jim's ears picked up the sounds of an approaching aid vehicle. He felt the vehicle swerve sharply to the shoulder of the road and slide to a stop in loose gravel.

Seconds later a man with a concerned look appeared in the open the rear door. The medics had arrived.

"How is he, officer?"

"Air way is barely open. Unresponsive." Jim reported, lifting Blair's shoulders and cradling his head as the medic pulled on his ankles. They laid him down in the roadway.

Jim became aware of more people; firemen and medics moving and working around the fallen man, forcing the cop to back away. Jim leaned against the hood of Till's vehicle, body trembling, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up.

Ellison watched a male and female medic team open orange boxes and roll out a cloth square that had curved metal devices of different sizes. The male medic knelt above Blair's head, tilting it back and peering down into his mouth. He selected one of the curved metal pieces and attempted to insert it into Sandburg's throat. It was obvious to Jim that he was not successful.

"Shit, he's too swollen.." The medic muttered to himself, unaware of sentinel ears nearby.

Jim slid down to sit in the gravel; his head fell back against the car. He closed his eyes in despair. Please, no.

"Let me try, Frank."

Jim lifted his head to watch the female medic take over. Her small delicate hands gently inserting the device, then more forcefully, until she smiled triumphantly. "Yes! Okay, get the bag mask ready."

"That's my partner, boys!" Frank gave her a brotherly slap on the back.

"Yeah, Yeah. He says that now, but he still refuses to leave the seat down in the bathroom!" She joked as she inserted a tube and finishing it off by inflating a small collar inside Blair's air passage to keep it in place. "What the hell was this guy given anyway?"

Jim breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the moisture that mysteriously appeared on his cheeks as he had listened to the familiar banter of partners. He struggled to his feet and joined the emergency service personnel.

"The suspect sprayed him in the face with the oil of a plant. She called it `dumb cane'."

"No shit!?" A fireman exclaimed. "My wife has that in our living room!" He watched the medic work the bag mask. Blair's chest was rising and falling easily now. "A house plant did this?"

Simon found Ellison in the waiting room at Cascade General. His detective looked beat. He eased his tall frame into the stiff plastic chair beside his friend.

"Jim. Any news yet?"

"Not since I called you."

"You okay?"

Taking a minute before answering, Jim closed his eyes.

Banks waited patiently, knowing Jim was not one for rushing his thoughts.

"He nearly died out there, Simon." Came the soft reply. Straightening in the chair, he turned to look at his captain. "Did you ever notice that I wear green when it rains?" He asked, pointing to his long sleeve shirt.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not sure when it happened, sir. But some how over the last year, Blair became a real cop. He has always been an observer, but with police knowledge, he's unstoppable. I ended up following him on this one, he was the lead detective."

"You're proud of him," Simon stated.

"I am." Jim reported with a tired smile. "I just hope he still wants to still ride with me."

"Why wouldn't he, Jim?"

Ellison rubbed his forehead. "I blew it, Simon. In the greenhouse, I should've realized the perp was hiding." He pointed to his hears.

"You're not a robot, Jim. You can't be expected to automatically scan every building you enter with your senses." Simon gently protested.

"Detective Ellison?"

Jim and Simon rose to meet the doctor. The emergency room had been busy when Jim had arrived in the back of the medic unit. Blair's condition had stabilized in route and the medic's were encouraged that the patient's outcome would be favorable.

"Is Blair okay?"

"Mr. Sandburg's swelling is down. We performed an endoscopy to determine the depth of swelling. This is a very rare case of poisoning." He tucked his clipboard under his arm, preparing to launch into an explanation. "The plant has calcium oxalate crystals packaged into bundles known as raphides. These crystals cause direct tissue injury."

Jim grimaced, this did not sound good. "So, he'll be okay?"

"We rinsed his mouth out and he responding nicely to the antihistamines. But he's going to have a very sore throat and vocal cords for a while."

Jim smiled in relief as Simon slapped his back. "Thanks doctor. Does he have to stay?"

"I want to watch him for a few more hours. If he continues to keep the swelling down, he can go home. He doesn't feel it now, but when the drugs wears off, he's going to be in considerable discomfort. I'm prescribing codeine if the pain is more than he can tolerate. After a while, he should be fine with acetaminophen or ibuprofen. I assume someone will be with him. Otherwise, he should stay here."

Jim held up his hand. "No, he's with me. I'll watch him."

Like a hawk! Simon thought to himself.

"Can I sit with him?"

The doctor nodded and pointed down the hallway. "Trauma four."

"Thanks"

Simon pounded Jim's back again happily. "Okay, then. If you'll give me your keys, I'll have a uniform bring you your truck. Since my Saturday is shot anyway. I'm going to head to the station and make sure everything is in shape with your arrest." He gave his detective a stern look, accepting this key ring. "Call me when you head out with the kid."

"Right. Thanks, Simon."

Blair lay curled on his side on the hospital gurney. A thoughtful nurse had placed a towel under his cheek to catch the saliva that dripped from his mouth. He opened his eyes as Jim entered.

"Hey, Chief. You added another ten years to my life." He leaned over and rubbed his roommate shoulder, not liking the light shivering his felt under his hand. "Hold on.." He located a cotton blanket, tucking it around Blair carefully. Jim sat on a padded metal stool next to the head of the bed.

"Did the doctor talk to you?"

Blair closed his red eyes and nodded slightly.

"Do you remember what he said?"

A hesitant look, then a brief shake of his head.

"Okay, they want to watch you for a few more hours, then you get to go home. You're going to be in a little pain for a while, but you'll soon be back to your normal chattering self."

Blood shot eyes closed and opened again in alarm, Blair's face full of questions.

Jim read the expression correctly. "It's okay, Harris caught Willow. Simon went in to make sure her arrest goes by the book." He pulled the covers up higher. "Why don't you try and sleep? The time will pass faster. I'll just hang out here and watch you drool."

Blair snorted and made a gesture like he was holding a camera up to his eye and clicking a photo, then shook his head.

"Great idea, Darwin! I'll bet the gift shop sells those disposable camera's for new fathers..."

Blair's look of horror caused Jim to relent. "Just kidding, chief. I Promise to leave this scene unrecorded. Now rest."

With a look of skepticism, the younger man closed his eyes. Sighing, he drifted off to sleep.

Sunday arrived with sunny skies and warm winds. Blair sat on the balcony with a mug of chamomile tea. Ellison finished folding the laundry and contemplating the last 12 hours.

Willow Alwin had ignored her appointed counsel's advice and proudly explained why she had poisoned the CEO of Evergreen Timbers. His company had purchased and logged off the timber on the land that her family had been forced to sell due to financial reasons. Watching her trees get cut down had been the woman's undoing.

Simon had called last night to give the results from the lab on the vitamins found in the victim's home. The kelp supplement turned out to be finely chopped foxglove leaves packed into gel tablets that can be purchased over the counter. Enough was found in one homemade pill to kill a healthy adult. The defense attorney was filing a request with the courts for a mental evaluation for his client.

He studied his partner sitting on the balcony for a moment. A quiet Blair was just not natural. He had used the codeine last night, but wanted to try just the Tylenol this morning. Jim kept him supplied with milk, teas and bottled water, per the doctor's written instructions.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway warned the Sentinel of a group approaching. Three, no four, heartbeats, odors of Simon's cigar, Joel's breath mint, Henri's cologne and Rafe's hair gel.

"We've got company, Sandburg!" He called out, picking up the basket of clothes he took them up to his room, then returned to open the door at the first knock.

"Hi, Jim! We're here! Let the party begin!" Henri sang out.

"What?" Jim stepped aside as they entered carrying bags and boxes.

"Hey, hair boy!"

Blair raised a hand in greeting, closing the door to the balcony behind him.

Jim watched puzzled as the group set their burden's down on the kitchen table.

"Okay, here's the deal." Simon held up a commanding hand. "In honor of Sandburg's first solved case..."

That got Blair's attention as his eyebrows rose; he looked at Jim for an explanation. Jim shrugged. They were getting very good at non-verbal communication.

"We decided a impromptu party was in order."

"Simon." Jim growled softly. "Sandburg can't have spicy or salty foods!" He knew what this group called party food and he would not stand for his roommate to be forced to watch them consume with pleasure while he could only watch.

"Hold it." Simon retorted in a superior tone. "I am well aware of the doctor's orders." He pulled out soft rolls, hummus spreads, jello cups, vanilla ice cream and other soft bland treats.

Blair approached the food with a grin and a bounce in his walk. He waived his arms wide then pointed both hands to his chest.

Joel laughed and gave the younger man a one armed hug. "Yeah, kid. This is all for you!"

"Wait!" Henri ordered. "You know the rules, Joel. No food until we get into costume." He reached into his box and produced plastic Halloween masks that kids wore. "Let me tell you, it's not easy finding these in June!"

Jim took his mask and turned it over. Uh oh. If he got this one then Blair got....

Sandburg looked in disbelief at the face of `Robin, the boy wonder'. He shot an accusing stare at Jim.

"No, it wasn't me, chief! I swear, I never said a word!"

Blair shook his head with a skeptical smirk, but lost it as he started to silently laugh at the other men in the room. Jim joined his partner's laughter as his eyes fell on the Joker, Riddler, Penguin and Mr. Freeze.

Let the party begin!

The End

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