Blair blinked at Jim, and then he tried. He really did try. But a moment later, he was sitting on the sidewalk, HOWLING as Jim unfolded himself from the teeny tiny car.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Jim chuckled.

"What in the WORLD...." Blair gasped.

"H's cousin lent it to me," he said with a sigh. "He said he'll be by later with Sweetheart, but till then...."

"How later is later?" Blair grinned.

Jim regarded him through slightly narrowed eyes. "By lunchtime. Why?"

"Oh, someone's coming by this evening and I thought he could use a laugh."

"He. He who?"

Blair smiled and bounced lightly on his heels. "Papaw."

Jim's eyes went round in surprise. "REALLY? You finally contacted him?"

He nodded. "He sent a message through K-9 -- oh, by the way, Jim, that dog has a problem -- and said he'd try to be there tonight." He looked over his shoulder at the brightly painted tiny car. "He'd love this."

"I'll just be glad to get Swee--- hold on, what kind of problem?"

Blair rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepishly. "Well.... it -- uhm -- seems he can see the other two that live in the Loft..."

"Other two?" Jim frowned, then his eyes widened. "OH! THOSE other two! Well... uhm... so what's the problem?"

Blair blushed. "He called animal control this morning..."

"HE DID ***WHAT?!?!***"

"Calm down, I've got it handled. Told them we had a college kid staying with us and that we'd disciplined him on using prank calls."

Jim sighed. "How much was the fine?"

Blair smiled. "Not one penny."

That made Jim blink. "Not one --- a false call to animal control and we dont' get fined at all?"

Blair shook his head. "Nope. Oh, I won't be home tomorrow night, I'm taking her out to eat...."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Figures."

They had no more set foot in Major Crimes when Simon bellowed, "ELLISON! SANDBURG! MY OFFICE!"

"My name is BLAIR, not ELLISON," Blair grumbled under his breath as they headed for the lion's den. Jim had to wave a hand at Simon and shake his head when Simon's look asked him what was so damn funny.

Simon rolled his eyes, then gave a sigh. "Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Miranda Thomlinson. She'll be doing a weeklong ride along with you, beginning tomorrow."

"No, Simon."

Simon sighed. "I don't recall giving you a choice, gentlemen."

As one, they sighed, and Jim turned to her. "One week. That's all. And if you give us ANY trouble, interfere in ANY of our cases, you will be out so fast your head will spin."

She looked at Simon. "Sir, I was under the impression YOU were in charge here?"

"I am," Simon said brusquely. "In here. Out there, THEY are your bosses. Is that understood?"

She glared at him. "Perfectly, sir."

*

Miranda left the office a few moments later, and dialed her cell. "Hello, Marty? Yeah, it's Mir. I've got it. I'm in."

She listened a moment, then laughed. "Oh, please! I'm sure of this! How many times do I have to tell you? This cop really does have these powers!"

She rolled her eyes. "At the very least, ESP. At the most, perhaps something sensory...." She bristled. "No, I have NOT been reading too many comic books! I'll prove it!" And she hung up.

"I'll prove it," she growled as she stalked down the hall, "even if I have to fake my sources to do it!"

*

At seven that evening, Simon approached the Loft, both arms laden with groceries. He lifted a foot to knock and kicked it out.

"OW SHIT SIMON!" Jim growled as it connected with his shin as he swung the door open.

"Now you see?" Simon chuckled as he walked in. "If you'd let me KNOCK once in awhile, things like that wouldn't HAPPEN!"

"Yeah, yeah," Jim grunted, hobbling beside him. "What's with the Naked Chef deal, huh?"

"Naked Ch--" Simon groaned. "Don't tell me Blair sucked you into the Food Network Marathon."

"He calls it a 'wonderful opportunity to observe Britain's youth culture's tastes'." Jim rolled his eyes. "If you ask me, he's got a crush on the man's wife. And besides, he hid the remote."

"Don't tell me with those senses you can't find it," Simon set the groceries down.

"Trust me, Simon. WHERE he hid that thing, no sane man would go in after!"

"Yeah? Where was that?" As Jim began to redden, Simon held up a hand. "No. Forget it. I didn't ask. I don't want to know!"

"Smart choice," Jim grinned. "Serious, what's with the groceries?"

Simon shrugged. "Thought I'd treat you to a meal to make up for the surprise I sprung on you earlier."

Jim sighed. "That was nasty. Who ordered that, huh?"

"Who do you think?"

Another sigh. "Figures. The chief and his publicity-hound advisors..."

Simon nodded. "Your elevator's down again, and I had to walk. Mind if I -- uhm...?"

Jim grinned. "Go ahead. It's clear. Blair and his grandfather are upstairs in my room."

"Oh, the old man showed, huh?" Simon grinned as he headed toward the bathroom. "That's a treat for him, I be---" his voice trailed off.

"Simon?" Alarmed at the silence, and the jump in heart rate, Jim moved toward him.

Simon was frozen in place, staring owlishly at the shape half-hidden behind the staircase.

"Simon?"

"Jim?" He pointed. "What the hell is a British police box doing in your apartment?"

"Oh that's Blair's grandfather's."

Simon snorted. "Figures. Must be hereditary." He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

When he came out, he began to make supper. When it was ready, Jim called upstairs.

Minutes later, Blair and a taller, toothier version of him walked down the stairs.

Simon blinked. "Well.. uhm... "

"Doctor," he smiled and took Simon's hand. "A pleasure, sir. You must be Simon." To Blair, he said, "You were so right, Blair. Masai warrior describes him perfectly."

"Wait'll you meet Rafe," Blair chuckled. "and MEGAN..."

"Megan..." he paused. "I had a Megan as a companion once. Or WILL I have one? Ah, well, I'll figure it out eventually." He inhaled. "Something smells WONDERFUL, what is it?"

"Food," Simon and Jim said together, chuckling.

They ate in companionable ease, joking and listening to Blair and his grandfather try to one-up each other with stories.

The worries of the station eased for them until after supper.

The conversation then turned to Thomlinson and the pain-in-the-rear they thought she would become.

It was then that the taller man asked, "What is so awful about her finding out Jim is a Sentinel?"

CRASH! Went Simon's mug to the hardwood floor. He stared huge-eyed at the man. "WHAT?"

"I mean, I don't understand the rationale for this secrecy. If she is a reporter, won't it help Jim do a better job? To have his 'tribe' aid him?"

Blair put his hand on the Doctor's arm. "Pappaw, it doesn't work that way in this time."

"That's right, this is mankind's 'cynicism' phase, isn't it? Coupled with the piranha-like grasp for information and entertainment." He leaned back and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Blair, I still wish you'd let me take you some where calmer than this. So you can see what mankind will eventually become."

He smiled. "And again, Pappaw, this is my Home. I won't leave Jim."

He smiled and cupped Blair's cheek. "Understood. Offer stands, though."

"Someday, maybe."

Jim chuckled. "I think he's Zoned on us."

Indeed, Simon was just staring, gaping.

The Doctor frowned. "Is he a Sentinel too?"

"No, just overwhelmed." Jim shook Simon's shoulder. "Hey."

"Huh?" Simon asked, turning his head.

"Time to go home?"

"Is he safe to drive?" the Doctor asked. "I can ferry him home in the TARDIS--"

"NO!" Blair and Jim said together, then Blair smiled. "Pappaw, he'll be fine. Jim'll get him home."

"But I can have him home before he's left"!

"Trust me, Pappaw -- this way is best." He guided him toward the stairs.

*

The Doctor stayed the entire weekend. Monday, he walked down to the market while Jim and Blair went to work.

Miranda was waiting. "Detective," she said, smiling.

"Thomlinson," he said coldly.

"Look." She leaned forward. "We have to work together, we don't have to like each other. DIG?"

Jim just looked at her.

Rafe hung up the phone. "Guys, robbery at the store on Plymouth!"

Megan frowned, walking into the Bullpen. "Why would that qualify as a Major Crime?"

Rafe frowned. "Because the man identified himself as Blair's grandfather..."

"Oh holy SHIT!" Blair grabbed his jacket and was out the door before anyone could stop him.

Jim ran after him, Miranda pumping the air in a "YES!" motion before she followed.

"His grand'da, huh?" Megan sat down, smiling. "I guess he came by it honestly..."

*

The three of them arrived to find the gangly Doctor sitting on a black-clothed man, holding a gun to his temple. He grinned up at them. "Hello," he said, flipping the gun to them. "I do believe this piece of human excrement belongs to you?" He sat up, pulling the man up with him. "Sir, I highly suggest you find a more legitimate line of work. This leads to nothing but pain."

“TELL me about it..." the man grunted as a black-and-white pulled up. Jim chuckled as he led the limping man to the car.

"Are you okay, Pappaw?" Blair asked, walking up to him.

"I will be," he smiled, touching Blair's cheek. "He didn't have time to do anything more than fire a bullet into a camera in the corner of the store."

"Wildest thing i've ever seen!" the owner of the store crowed. "This man upended an entire display onto the burglar! Then he just pulled the gun out, borrowed my cell phone, and SAT on the man!"

"Yup," Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "Definitely comes by it honest..."

Miranda walked up to the Doctor. "You say you are Blair's grandfather?"

"Yes, I am," he smiled at her. "You are?"

"Thomlinson. Miranda Thomlinson. You'll forgive me, but --- you look rather YOUNG to be his GRANDFATHER."

The smile turned positively devilish as his head lowered slightly. "I'm older than I appear."

She nodded. "Good genes?"

"Yes, I suppose that could be it..." He sighed. "So are you a new policewoman?"

She burst out laughing. "Good heavens, NO! I'm a reporter."

"A reporter, hm?" He frowned toward her purse. A sudden lunge and he had it in his hands.

"HEY!" she reached for it. "Gimme!"

The Doctor avoided her and opened it. "Jim, perhaps you had best look at this." He returned her purse to her -- but KEPT the notebook he'd pulled out of it.

Jim took it, over her protests. "Blair..." he handed it to Blair.

Blair's eyes widened. "Where the HELL did you get THIS?"

Miranda lifted her chin. She didn't answer.

Blair waved the notebook under her chin. "These are MY NOTES! Where did you GET THESE?"

“My sister brought them to me," she admitted with a sigh. "I read those and I knew there was only one person they could be talking about." She looked at Jim.

"Your si--" Blair sighed. "Jolene Thomlinson. I wondered why she was in my office all the time."

"Student of yours?" Jim asked.

"Last year," Blair sighed again. "Miranda---"

She smiled. "Those notes -- and your interview -- are my ticket to a Pulitzer!"

"That's why you rode along with us," Jim said grimly.

The Doctor smiled. "Let's retire to your apartment, Jim -- I'm sure we can give Miranda her interview there."

“WHAT?" Jim and Blair both burst out.

"Shall we?" He guided her to Blair's Volvo, which he'd driven. He turned to Blair.

"Blair, I had K-9 overhaul the engine. It now runs like a ... what is that car? Porshe?" he smiled and drove away, the engine purring like a cat.

Blair's stunned expression made Jim laugh.

*

When they arrived at the Loft, Jim walked right in. Going to the grinning Doctor, he said, "You had better have a plan."

"I do. Goodbye, Jim."

Jim gaped.

He walked over and hugged Blair. "I'll see you next month your time?"

Blair smiled. "Looking forward to it."

A nod, and he turned to Miranda. "Ready for that interview?"

"Oh you BET! Time to quit stalling!" She pulled out a notebook.

"Miranda, would you like to see my hobby before we begin? I restore antique phone boxes..."

She smiled. "Yeah? That might make a good human interest angle..." She walked over to it. "Oooh, this is lovely..."

The Doctor picked up her purse and followed her. "Yes it is. The best detail is inside, though."

"Yes?" she opened the door. "Oooh..." And walked inside.

The Doctor instantly jumped in after her, leaning out and snapping off a saluted goodbye to Jim and Blair. Then the wheezing sounded, and the TARDIS faded away.

Jim and Blair grinned at each other, then Blair moved to the phone. Mocking Miranda's voice, he resigned her from the paper. "I've decided to go away to write comic books."

"Figures," the editor sighed. "We'll miss you." And he hung up.

Blair collapsed onto the couch. "That was TOO damned close!"

"You need to burn those notebooks, chief."

He nodded, "TELL me about it. Who knows WHAT trouble they'll get us into!"