"No Carolyn, it's not a problem." Jim propped his elbow up on his desk and rubbed his forehead. "No, they didn't call me. I found out from some uniforms I met as I was leaving the airport. I just figured I'd tag along."

There was a pause as Jim listened to his ex-wife's reply. "Sandburg has already given me a hard time about that. It's not my fault someone decided to ransack a bunch of luggage while I was at the airport." He rolled his eyes as he waited for Carolyn's laughter to subside. "What I need to know is what you had in your suitcase so I can compare it against the evidence list." Jim tucked the phone between his neck and shoulder and began writing down the items that Carolyn listed.

He uttered small sounds occasioally to encourage the continuation of the list, then suddenly stopped writing and sat up straight in his chair. "My sweatshirt? You had my sweatshirt in your suitcase?"

There was another pause as he listened to the answer. "No, it's just that it wasn't there when we checked everything into evidence."

Jim had to hold the phone away from his ear as Carolyn once again began expressing her thoughts on petty crooks, luggage handlers and airlines in general.

"Carolyn," Jim said, trying to break into his ex-wife's tirade. "Carolyn... Caro! It's not that big a deal. It was only a sweatshirt. It's not like it was a priceless family heirloom or something." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he reasured Carolyn over the phone.

The detective kept his eyes fixed on the paper on his desk, so as not to see the concerned faces of his co-workers. "Don't worry about it, Carolyn. These things happen. I'll keep you updated on anything we find out."

With that last reasurance, Jim hung up the phone and waited patiently for the first question to be asked.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I take it that Carolyn isn't happy about her luggage, is she?" Blair asked.

Jim slowly shook his head.

Now that the ice had been broken, others ventured to ask their own questions. "Did I hear right? Did something happen to the sweatshirt?" Rafe asked, leading the group of detectives over to the Sentinel's desk.

Jim took a deep breath and stood up to address the bullpen. "As you all know, Carolyn's suitcase was one of the items of luggage that was vandalized at the airport earlier. I just called her to get an inventory of its contents and she says that she remembers packing the sweatshirt."

He quickly held up his hands to forstall any questions, "Now, I helped out at the crime scene and I can assure you that the sweatshirt wasn't among the evidence, but let's not get upset about it. It's just a sweatshirt. I've got plenty of sweatshirts."

The bullpen was silent. Nobody wanted to push Jim on the subject. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as everyone tried to think of something to say.

"Come on, Chief," Jim finally said as he grabbed his coat, "let's go grab some lunch."

"Um, sure, Jim," Blair replied, grabbing his own coat and racing after his partner.

******

The cab of the truck was silent as it made it's way through mid-day traffic. To a casual observer it would have appeared like the comfortable silence of good friends, but Jim's clenched jaw and Blair's lack of bounce told another story.

"It's more than just a sweatshirt, you know," Blair finally ventured. He took Jim's continued silence as a sign that he could continue. "What I mean is that when you share something with your friends and family it becomes something special."

As the anthropologist warmed up to his current topic, he failed to notice the warning signs from his partner. "Just think about it. Our culture is full of..."

"Sandburg!" Jim growled. "I'm not in the mood for cultural enlightenment right now."

The rest of the trip was as silent as the begining.

******

By silent agreement Jim and Blair went to Wonderburger for lunch. Blair didn't even give Jim a hard time about the cardiac special that he usually got.

"Hey, Detective, we haven't seen you in here, lately," the teenager behind the counter said.

"I assume you want your usual?" he asked, then turned to Blair, "And the regular salad for your partner?"

Jim actually smiled. Ever since he had helped break up a late night robbery, the staff at Wonderburger gave him preferential treatment. He always got hot fries and a warm burger, just the way he liked them.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of his impending meal. But instead of the tantalizing scent of french fried potatoes he caught a wiff of a familiar perfume.

He slowly turned around to see if he could locate the source of the smell.

Blair grabbed their food and turned to follow Jim to a table, only to find his Sentinel frozen in place. His first thought was that Jim had zoned on the cholesteral bomb, "Um, Jim?"

Upon hearing his name, Jim began moving towards the section of the restaurant populated by tables and patrons. All the time keeping an eye on one particular customer.

The partners reached a table and sat down. Finally, Blair followed Jim's line of sight to see what he was looking at. What he saw caused him to do a double take. "Uh, Jim, do you see what I see?"

Jim took another experimental sniff and narrowed his vision.

"Yep, I do."

Blair leaned closer, "It couldn't possibly be the same sweatshirt, Jim."

Jim's eyes never left the wearer of a familiar sweatshirt. When Jim didn't respond, Blair continued, "I'm certain that there must be hundreds of people with Army sweatshirts in Cascade."

Jim finally spoke, "But not all of them have the coffe stain from when you wore it during finals, or the baby drool from when Carolyn fed Joseph."

With a slight growl, Jim rose from his seat and moved towards the subject in question.

At the last moment, Blair put a hand on Jim's arm, halting his partner, "Try not to disembowl him in the restaurant, please. People are eating here."

Jim just gave a little smile and headed towards the table by the exit.

Before the detective could take two steps towards his target, the man bolted for the door. Without a second thought, Jim took off after him, shouting over his shoulder, "Call it in, Chief!"

Blair already had his phone out and quickly dialed dispatch as he followed Jim out the door, trying to keep track of Jim's location.

"Dispatch, this is Blair Sandburg. Detective Ellison is on foot, four hundred block of Sequoia, in pursuit of a suspect. Suspect is caucasion, approximately six foot in height, medium build. Suspect was last seen wearing blue jeans and," Blair couldn't hold back a snicker, "you're going to love this. The suspect was last seen wearing blue jeans and Jim's missing Army sweatshirt."

There was a slight delay in the response from dispatch, "Please repeat. What is the suspect wearing?"

Blair smiled wide, "He's wearing Jim's Army sweatshirt."

He had to give the dispatcher credit, there was only a slight hint of laughter in her voice when she replied, "Copy that. Units currently in route."

*******

Jim raced after the suspect.

The sweatshirt thief had raced down the street, down an alley and was trying to lose his pursuer in the maze of alleys behind the various different shops and near-by homes.

He spoted the suspect trying to climb over a chainlink fence. "Don't you dare tear that shirt!"

The Sentinel quickly vaulted over the fence after the perp and continued the chase.

The suspect didn't even notice that in his attempt to avoid the detective, he was headed back towards the origin of the chase. He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt when he saw all the uniformed officers and their patrol cars. With an enraged Sentinel behind him and several of Cascade's finest in front of him, the suspect was quickly brought into custody and arrested.

*******

Jim sat at the large conference table in Simon's office studying the evidence bag and its contents.

Once the identity of the Sweatshirt Bandit, as he'd briefly been dubbed, was discovered, news of his capture spread fast. The Feds had swarmed in and taken custody immediately. As it turned out, he was wanted on several federal charges. The local charges of possesion of stolen property and resisting arrest were insignificant in comparison.

Just as quickly as the Feds had arrived, they vanished again, taking their prisoner with them. They left behind confusion, paperwork, and, thankfully, Jim's sweatshirt.

Jim looked up from his silent contemplation as Blair came through the door.

"Hey Jim, are you going to hide in here all day?" Blair asked as he sat across from his friend.

"Nah, I'm just thinking."

"What? Jim Ellison sitting deep in thought? Quick, where's the calender?" Blair teased as he pretended to look around the room.

Jim just glared across the table. "I was thinking that you were right about the sweatshirt, about it being special."

For a moment, Blair was tempted to make another teasing comment, but decided to remain quiet.

Jim savored this rare moment before continuing. "Do you realize how much this shirt has been through? What it's done?"

Blair just grinned ear to ear, "and the list just keeps growing."

A grin grew on Jim's face to match that of his friend's, glad that Blair had understood and accepted what he was saying.

Suddenly the look on Blair's face turned mischievious, as he got up and moved around the table. "I can just see it now, Jim. 'Do the clothes really make the man? Find out how one Cascade detective caught one of America's most wanted with a sweatshirt."

With the completion of his statment, the Guide turned around and ran out of the office, with his Sentinel following close behind.