Untwisting

A/N: Airwolf belongs to Bellisario and Universal, The Sentinel belongs to Pet Fly, UPN, and Paramount. No infringement is intended for any of these. Airwolf is AU: I've moved events in the series ahead about two decades, and upgraded the Lady. If you don't know the Sentinel - get thee to the Cascade Library, go! www.skeeter63.org/tslibrary/

~*~*~*~*~

"You don't need to say it," Jim Ellison sighed. Almost back to Cascade, and the rotor noise was pounding in his skull like a jackhammer. But when an out-of-state sheriff personally volunteered to fly you home because someone in his jurisdiction wanted you dead, a wise big-city cop accepted. You never knew when you might need a friend in California.

Sheriff Quinn threw him a sardonic glance, headset snug over his cap. "Say what?"

Blair leaned forward from the helicopter's back seat, one arm propped on their gear. "Don't come back into my town again."

"Well, now, if I said that, I'd be downright unneighborly," Quinn said judiciously. "And we do tend to pride ourselves on being a friendly little town."

"So, this isn't really necessary-"

Jim jabbed an elbow in Blair's general vicinity. The anthropologist took the hint and shut up.

"Maybe," Quinn allowed, banking left to skim a low cloud. "Maybe we caught everybody Ligero hired. And maybe he hasn't picked up anybody else to do his dirty work. And maybe we found all the C-4 he had."

And maybe not, Jim finished silently. "Sorry about this. We thought we didn't know anyone in California."

"Well, somebody knows you." Quinn skewed a glance their way. "Unless you think you've ticked off somebody willing to go to the time, trouble, and out-of-pocket to hire out of state talent."

Jim winced, knowing how many of the people they'd cuffed fell into that category.

"Right," Quinn said dryly. "That's what I thought."

"It really was a nice vacation," Blair said wistfully.

"For you," Quinn allowed. "You know, you're lucky it was Santini driving that road. Not many people in Cold Creek could have spotted that tripwire." He shook his head. "Man flew in 'Nam. Guess he knew what to look for."

Jim grimaced, hearing what the sheriff pointedly wasn't saying. If someone else from Cold Creek had happened by, they'd be dead, and Quinn would have had a homicide on his hands. No wonder the man was willing to fly them home. "It could have been worse. Compared to what happened on our last vacation-"

Now it was Blair's turn to grab for his shoulder. A little too late, Jim realized, noting the look of patient exasperation on Quinn's face as they hovered over Cascade. A look eerily akin to Simon's; the I know you mean well so I'll put up with you until you start acting like sane people but you're starting to push it look.

"Um... anyway," Jim tried to salvage something from the situation. "Thanks."

"Thanks a lot," Blair added.

"Uh-huh. Thought I'd let you boys off on your roof." Quinn nodded toward the Cascade Police Department building. "If that's all right with you."

Thereby giving them the shortest distance to cover to reach fellow officers, in case Ligero had somehow managed to pull off some last-minute plan in Cascade itself. "That's fine."

"So... no hard feelings?" Blair ventured.

With an effort of will, Jim refrained from clocking his partner a good one.

"Oh, no," Quinn shrugged, touching down light as a pigeon. "I mean, other sheriffs might say, we'll be watching you, or, if you come back into our jurisdiction you might just get yourself shot... but I'm sure you've heard all that before."

"From other sheriffs," Blair echoed uncertainly, undoing his harness. "Right."

Determined to keep his face straight, Jim pulled out their duffels.

"Oh, and detectives...."

Standing on the roof, the duo turned back.

Quinn gave them a grim smile. "Don't come back into my town again."

Simon was waiting in the dust as the helicopter lifted away. "Do I want to know what that was about?"

Blair and Jim traded glances. "Well," the anthropologist sighed, "It started with a biker brawl...."