Blair stared at his computer as if he were waiting for it to do a trick. So intent on the screen was he, that he didn't hear his partner and best friend walk into the loft.

Jim hung up his coat and tossed his keys into the small basket beside the door, then turned to face Blair. The young man still didn't acknowledge him.

A quick survey of the kitchen told the detective that his friend had once again fallen down on the job of making dinner. Blair wasn't usually this forgetful, especially when it came to his night to cook. No..the anthropologist was always eager to experiment on Jim. Most of the time Jim, always the lab rat, didn't mind. But something was wrong, and the sentinel was determined to find out what was distracting his guide.

"Hey Chief. What's up?" The older man asked while stepping around the table to peep over Blair's shoulder.

"Huh?" Blair jumped slightly, then quickly closed the laptop before Jim could see anything of importance. He turned to face Jim. "Hey big guy....um...what brings you home so early?" His face bore a mask of innocence.

Jim looked down at his watch and then back to Blair. "It's 7:30 Darwin. I'm running late....and I'm hungry."

"Oh...7:30?" Blair checked the clock on the microwave. "Gee." He laughed nervously. "So it is." Standing up a little too fast, Blair stepped on Jim's foot causing the older man to push him away.

"Dammit chief!!! Watch where you're going! I have to walk on them too!" Jim sat down in the newly vacated chair, taking off his shoe and rubbing his now sore foot."

"I...I'm so sorry Jim..you okay??? You...you want anything???" Blair sputtered, his eyes filled with obvious concern.

The detectives eyes narrowed. /// whatever this is, it isn't good./// "I want to know what's going on with you, Sandburg, and I want to know now."

Blair backed up a few steps. ///Why should I be so scared...Hell, I didn't do anything wrong. It's not my fault! /// "Look Jim...I'm sorry about your foot, and about dinner being late."

"Again," Jim complained, still rubbing throbbing toes.

Rolling his eyes, Blair continued. "Okay! Again! But I assure you that there's an explaination for this."

"I'm waiting." Jim stated with his eyes widened and a quick gesture of his hand for Blair to hurry up.

"Okay...well, you see, it seems that someone out there on the web is spamming hotmail users."

"I take it that's not a good thing."

"No it's not. Most providers don't allow it....but um...that's not the worst part. They are spamming people and putting my name in the reply to field." Blair looked at Jim waiting for the older man to say something. Jim only stared at Blair, not understanding the problem.

The young man sighed his frustration. "Okay, let me put it this way...They are mass emailing hotmail users, just sending stupid numbers, and putting my name on the letter as a reply to. Thus, I'm getting hate mail from people I don't even know."

Understanding dawned in Jim's blue eyes. "I see. So how..."

Blair began to pace, and cut the detective off mid-sentence. "Man, that is the freakin' million dollar question..." His hands were now gesturing wildly as he spoke. "...and If I knew the answer, I'd be a rich SOB.....but I don't know who, what, when or why...nor do I know how they got my screen name." Blair ran a nervous hand through his hair. "This really, really sucks Jim."

"Isn't there anyone you can complain too?"

"Yeah, I've contacted Hotmail abuse, and last week they said it had been taken care of, but I don't think so, because it started all over again yesterday." Blair quickly walked over to his laptop, lifting the screen and tapping the space bar to remove the screensaver. "Do you see what I'm dealing with here? I've got 200 emails asking me what the numbers mean. I've erased about 100 already today. I'm so tired of this man. " Pulling out another chair, Blair plopped down heavily next to his friend. "Hotmail said they would look into it but they need the whole letter... You know, header, body, and footer information. They said they could trace the mailings with that information." He sighed. "I'm just so tired of having my mailbox filled with this stuff and people cussing me for something I have no control over." Tears threatened to fill his eyes.

Jim saw the distress his guide was in, and it tore at his heart. Scooting his chair closer to the young man, he placed a strong arm around Blair's shoulder. "It's okay buddy. I'm sure some of the hotmail users would be happy to send the letter to you so you can, inturn, send it to the hotmail abuse people."

"I've been trying that, but so far everyone has deleted their letters." Blair sighed heavily and dropped his face into his hands.

Jim began to rub small soothing circles on the younger man's back, feeling the slight tremors beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Okay...we can deal with this chief. What if you change your screen name?"

Suddenly two blue eyes drilled into Jim's. "WHAT???? Me? Get rid of Wolfspirit? I don't think so Jim...that's just not an option here. I mean that would mean that I would have to change my website...then get all of the lists I belong to to change me.....No...it's just too much work."

Then Jim was hit with an idea. "Lists? How many lists are you on?"

Not knowing where Jim was going with the question, Blair shrugged. "Gosh, I don't know. Five, maybe more." Then narrowing his eyes at the older man, who was now grinning. "Why?"

"It would stand to reason that some of the other people on your list, are hotmail users. You could email them, through the list, warn them about the letters and ask them to send the letters directly to you instead of deleting them."

Blair nodded. "Yeah...that might work...they could send them to me or directly to the Hotmail abuse addy.....which is what I'm going to do anyway." With bright eyes and a huge grin on his face, Blair hugged Jim. "Thanks man...you always seem to know what to do. How'd you get to be so smart?"

Jim blushed slightly from the hug. "I guess from hanging around smart people kid."

Now it was Blair's turn to blush. "Thanks Jim."

"You're welcome. Now how about that dinner, I'm starved."

"Sure thing Jim...just let me get this letter off and I'll whip up something special."

Quickly Jim got up and limped into the kitchen, checking the cabinets for anything with mold growing on it.