by Jane Davitt

"Both teams are level on points," Henri announced. "And I'm out of questions, so I declare the contest a tie and someone can buy me a drink." He coughed. "Thirsty work, asking questions all night."

"Hey, we worked hard answering them," Jim said, "and no way are we settling for a tie." He turned to Blair, who'd arrived too late to join in the annual quiz at Bernie's, between Vice and Major Crime, with no prize but the satisfaction gained from winning. Just as well, really; there'd been mutterings from Vice about Blair's eligibility. "Sandburg, dream up a question we can use. Something difficult but not impossible."

"I smell a rat," Captain Henderson declared. "You set this up beforehand."

"That would be your cologne," Simon said and blew out a plume of cigar smoke as his team howled with laughter.

"Not guilty," Blair said mildly enough. He turned to the rest of the Vice team, their expressions wary. "How about I write down, hmm, six questions and your captain picks one?"

After a brief, hissed conference, Henderson nodded. "Six it is."

Blair went over to the bar with paper and a pen, scribbled for a while, and then returned with six folded pieces of paper in a glass. Henderson drew a slip out, handing it over to Henri.

"Okay, first one to shout out the correct answer wins, and here's the question." Henri took a deep breath, milking the moment, then asked, "What is the most translated document in the world?"

Blair smiled, clearly happy with the chosen question, and then winced as everyone bellowed out, "The Bible!"

"Nope," Henri said cheerfully and a disgruntled silence fell.

"Well," Henderson said eventually, after some unsuccessful guesses, "as your boy stumped us all, I'll agree to you winning --"

"Mighty nice of you," Simon said affably, "seeing as you went over the time limit in answering every question that wasn't about sport."

"If he can tell us what made him think this was 'difficult but possible' which is what his buddy Ellison told him the questions had to be." Henderson spread his hands. "I'm no brainiac professor with a fruity degree. I say his question was something no one could know unless they were like him. A cheat."

Jim tensed, his face darkening, but Simon laid his hand on Jim's arm. "Cool your jets, Jim." He arched his eyebrows at Blair. "Blair? What's the answer?"

"The Universal Declaration of Human Rights," Blair said immediately. "Translated into over 300 languages and dialects."

"Okay, we've all heard of it," Simon said, after a pause, waving the muttering crowd silent, "but why would we --"

"Today's December the tenth," Jim said, a memory from a Civics class surfacing. "Human Rights Day."

Blair beamed approvingly at him and quoted softly under his breath, "'Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world…'"

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