Jim crossed his arms. Blair was hiding something, he knew that. The man would never make it working undercover. "Uh huh," he said slowly. "And what are these people like?"
"Angel's crew?" Blair smiled brightly and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Cool. Totally cool. I mean, they are--" Blair ran out of words, a condition that scared the crap out of Jim.
They were something flaky enough or illegal enough that Blair didn't want to talk about them.
"Maybe I should tell Simon I can't make this training," Jim mused. Even visiting Blair's flaky friends would be better than a week of interagency training.
Simon just wanted his pound of flesh after having to smooth over Jim's less than tactful handling of their latest fed invasion.
If feds didn't want to hear the cold, brutal truth, they should just avoid Cascade, that was Jim's theory.
"Whoa, hey. No need to do that," Blair blurted out, entirely too quickly. Jim narrowed his eyes, even more suspicious now. "I mean, Simon would have a serious cow," Blair backtracked. "Serious.
If he can't torture you with training, he's going to... I don't know... put you on cat-sitting duty or something. No way, just take your lumps like a man."
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