The Sentinel belongs to Pet Fly, yadda, yadda, yadda. The general concept is not mine either, but the actually story is 100% from my odd brain. All mistakes are mine.

I'd like to thank my beta, who worked on this months ago but Real Life made it impossible for me to finish until now. And thanks to all those that knew of this stories existance and bugged me into posting it finally.

This story is the result of my beloved Muse having a freak out. I read a the first two in a long series of gen stories by Susan Foster called GDP.
To say I was horrified by aspects of the world she created in putting it mildly, but those were the emotions she was hoping to invoke, so I'd say she did a good job. My Muse created this story as a sort of rebuttle. I want to thank Susan for making it very hard to write the 3 or 4 sequels I'm supposed to be writing. BTW Susan really is an asset to TS fandom and I look forward to reading more of her stories in the future. PS: this story is shorter than it was origninally, since I decided the last part was more an outline than anything else, so there will be a sequel. <gods help me>

Sentinel-Guide Research Project

by Sorka

The rain fell softly on the streets of Cascade, a city of just under a million people. The gray clouds hung low, obscuring the tops of the highest buildings. It was early spring, with the first hints of green starting peek out in the few still green and growing areas for the city.

Professor Blair Sandburg watched the weather from his office window. He was the newest tenured professor at Rainier University and his third year as a full time teacher was almost finished. At 24 he was also the oldest fully trained guide never to have found a sentinel to bond with fully.

His teachers had told him that part of his problem was that he felt too much compassion of those afflicted with the Sentinel Syndrome. The affliction was caused by a genetic anomaly, which was considered to be a throwback to a pre-civilized era in mankind's history. Most with the syndrom only had two or three hyperactive senses and while sometimes uncomfortable, they weren't a danger themselves or others and were therefore allowed to continue living normal lives.

There was another type though, full sentinels. These poor wretches were sentenced to a life of pain and suffering because they had all five senses heightened beyond what was considered normal. Sentinels weren't recognized for what they really were in the western world for decades and had often been diagnosed as mentally ill and sent to asylums. Then about a hundred years ago, the great explorer Sir Richard Burton, discovered several sentinels in his explorations of native tribes. He published his monograph "The Sentinels of Paraguay" and was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the understanding on the human condition. With the help of his research, the first of a dozen American sentinels where identified.

At the same time that sentinels had been discovered, a few guides had also appeared. It was learned in the early days that a sentinel had to bond to a another person or go insane. This bonding gave a level of control to the sentinel that was otherwise impossible. The guides were not exactly different from regular humans, but they were often more patient and understanding of the limits and needs of a sentinel on an instinctual level. The drawback was that the sentinel was forever dependent on the guide to be there for him.

Afraid that this would reduce the role of a guide to that of a meer servant so soon after abolishing slavery; laws were passed to protect the rights and property of the guides. These laws also made it clear that the guide had the final say when it came to the needs of his or her sentinel.

Blair shook his head sadly. Yes, the guide had been protected, but in some ways the sentinel suffered. Many sentinels didn't know any other life than deferring to their guide, since the average age for bonding was around 17. The instinct to protect their guide and their tribe was channeled through whatever career the pair agreed was most suited for the both of them. Several times he had seen sentinels relegated to some rather useless environments, because the guide wanted them both to be safe. This more often then not ended in the destruction of the pair, if not physically, then emotionally. Blair felt it was part of his duty as an instructor to make sure that those situations didn't occur very often.

As he stared out the window, a black van pulled up to the entrance of his building. The van had no window and no markings, save for a small decal on the driver's side door, which read SGR. Blair turned from the window and sprinted out the door. A 'Sentinel-Guide Research' truck meant only one of two things; either a sentinel was out of control or someone had been identified as a sentinel and was being brought in for evaluation.

Blair opened the outside door just as the guards opened the back of the van. They pulled out a tall man from within, his head bowed, shoulders slack. Blair was horrified when he saw the man was in a straight jacket and wore a blinder over his eyes. He was about to rush forward and demand an explanation for this level of restraint when a dark blue limo pulled up behind the van.

A man in his late fifties, maybe older, stepped out. He walked over to the man in restraints and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, son," he said. "It's the only way."

"Don't touch me, you bastard!" The restrained man yelled, jerking away from the touch.

"Jimmy, please..." The father's plea was cut off as his son delivered a vicious kick to one of the guards. The accuracy of the blow spoke of excellent hearing and sense of balance. The caught off guard, the other man was shoved off his feet, landing in a large puddle.

Fighting his restraints, the sentinel tried to turn and flee but fell when he blindly tripped on the curb.

The first guard, pissed at being caught flat-footed, pulled out baton from his jacket. Coming up from behind the sentinel, he struck him behind the knees. The blow came as he was almost back on his feet, causing him to fall again, striking the wet ground hard. That was followed by a second blow to the prone figures back.

Seeing the baton raised for another blow, Blair intervened. "Enough! What do you think you're doing striking him?"

The guard stopped mid-swing and looked up. "I'm doing my job, containing a violently out of control sentinel. What's it to you?"

"I'm Professor Sandburg, a member of the staff and your superior," Blair said with heat. "We are supposed to help these people, not brutalize them. Back off, before I have you fired."

Blair's hard gaze and threat were enough to make the guard back off. He was about to check on the prone man when a polite clearing of a throat caught his attention. He glanced to see the man's father, who looked anxious. "And you are?"

"William Ellison. Jim's father." he replied taken aback by the lack of courtesy.

"I see. I take it you authorized the use of this jacket and the blinders?" Blair bent down to examine Jim more closely. He didn't like the pallor of his complexion or the short uneven breaths.

"The guards said they would calm him," William said helplessly. "Jimmy was reluctant to let them help him."

Blair knelt next to the sentinel and examined him; his breathing was a little slow and his skin was very pale. "Alright, I want you." Blair pointed at the guard with the baton, "to get a gurney. You've managed to knock this sentinel unconscious and while it will make it easier to get him inside, that is not how you were trained to handle a skittish sentinel by any stretch of the imagination." He turned to Jim's father. "Mr. Ellison, we will see to your son's injuries first, then we'll discuss the crudity with which this situation was handled."

It was several minutes before they had the sentinel, Jim Ellison, settled in one of the dozen 'quiet' rooms in the universities Hall of Sentinel-Guide Research. Blair ordered the guards out of the room, then carefully removed the straight jacket and blinders.

A hiss escaped his lips when he saw dozens of scratch marks across Jim's arms and neck under the soft flannel shirt he wore, evidence of his sense of touch gone out of control.

"Are you sure he'll be alright in here?" William asked glancing around the sparsely appointed room.

"We're not the Ritz Carlton, Mr. Ellison," Blair replied softly. "This room is as sense neutral as we can possibly get it. Everything is washed with a mild goat's milk soap, there is a white noise generator that runs constantly, and the lights are adjustable to as low as one candle power."

Reaching over to a small dial on the wall, Blair adjusted the lights down to five candle power. Just enough for him to see by but dark enough as to not hurt the sentinel should he suddenly awaken. There was a very light tap on the door as one of the staff members came to assist. "Mr. Ellison, this is Dr. Serena Chang, she is our Chief of Sentinel Medicine. Doctor, this is William Ellison, the sentinel's father."

"Dr. Chang," William shook her hand briefly.

"If you would please step outside, Mr. Ellison, I need to examine your son," she said tersely. "You'll only be in the way."

"Oh, of course." He stepped outside the room and the door was shut softly but firmly behind him.

"Thank you for responding so fast, Serena," Blair whispered.

"Blair in the three years you've worked here, you've never once had to use your panic button," she replied just as softly, indicating the small pager-like device clipped to his waist. "When I saw it was you, I didn't even think to hesitate."

They cut the clothing off the sentinel's body, until he lay in nothing but his boxers. There was evidence that more than just out of control senses had contributed to the injuries on the unconscious form. Vivid bruising, that couldn't be more than a day old, told of a vicious beating. The blinders had not only robbed the sentinel of his vision, they had also covered a swollen black eye. Bruising on his hands showed that he hadn't endured the damage without a fight.

"He hit his head on the sidewalk when the guard tripped him," Blair said worriedly.

Serena nodded and checked the slight bruising just above the right temple. "It doesn't look too bad, a mild concussion at worst. He'll come around when he feels he's safe. Why don't you go finish with his father, I can see about helping him."

Blair nodded, but felt oddly reluctant to leave the sentinel's side. "He must have been a latent, I've rarely seen someone whose senses emerged this late in life."

"See what Ellison can tell you." Serena made a shooing motion, the set about cleaning the worst of the scratches.

"Come with me to my office, Mr. Ellison." Blair ordered when he exited Jim's room and walked past the older man. "There is a lot we have to talk about."

"Will Jimmy be alright?" William asked trailing after him.

"Only time will tell." Blair opened his office and ushered him in, then shut the door and locked it. "I must, under law, inform you that all information gathered at this meeting is strictly confidential, but will go into his file here at Rainier."

"I understand," William replied.

"Do you?" Blair asked as he took his seat behind a rather plain looking but sturdy oak desk. "Please be seated. The questions I will ask you are extremely personal, but must be answered truthfully in order for us to help your son."

William swallowed nervously, but nodded. "I do understand, Mr. Sandburg."

"Very well." Blair pulled out a journal from his desk and marked the date and time. "First, what is the full name of your son?"

"James Joseph Ellison," he replied.

"Are you the biological father?"

"What kind of question is that?" William demanded.

"The kind that must be asked and a perfectly valid one in these days of short term contract marriages. Now, answer the question." Blair stared him down for a long moment, finally William looked away.

"Yes I am."

"Are you currently married and if so is your wife the biological mother of James Ellison?"

William squirmed. "I'm currently divorced, my ex-wife, Grace Rossmen is his biological mother."

Blair nodded and wrote the information down The entire conversation was being recorded, but it was always best to have hard copies of the information. Divorce was very uncommon these days since most contracts lasted, at most, a decade. If the relationship didn't works out, the couple simply didn't renew it. There still were some 'traditionalists' that insisted on life time commitments, but those often were harder to get out of than a contract."Is there a history of heightened senses in either your family or that of Jim's mother?"

William squirmed some more. "My grandmother had been trained to be a guide, but she never bonded with anyone. Grace's parents were a bonded pair, they were doctors of pediatric medicine from what she told me."

"What are the name's of your ex-wife's parents?"

"Um... George and Emily Rossmen." William replied after a moment. "I never actually met them. They died when Grace was still in high school."

"I see. When was the first time you noticed your son exhibiting heightened senses?" Blair had been carefully watching his reactions, but wasn't prepared for the man to suddenly go pale. The dead silence between them was deafening. "Could you please answer the question, Mr. Ellison." He was reluctant to push, but he had a gut feeling that there was something not quite right about this situation.

William mumbled something that Blair had to strain to hear. His heart thudded in his chest, hoping he had heard wrong. "Would you please repeat that."

"I said, when he was ten years old."

"I see," Blair felt his stomach drop and his own flesh pale slightly, but kept his expression neutral. "How is it that your son was not entered into the Sentinel Youth Training Program?"

"I panicked when I realized my oldest son was one of them. I forced him to suppress his abilities." William admitted, shame faced.

"How did you manage to do that?" Blair asked, his ire rising. "And I want the truth."

Paling further he answered. "Whenever I caught him using his senses, I would punish him and tell him not to make up such wild stories. I told him that our family never had anyone with heightened senses, and that if he kept insisting that he had them, that he would be considered a freak, and no one would like him."

Blair set down his pen, his hands were shaking to much. Everyone knew that suppressed senses would eventually reemerge, usually quite violently. "How old is your son now?"

"Thirty-two, he had his birthday a few weeks ago."

"Okay, what profession is your son in?" Blair asked wanting to get through his quickly now.

"He was a soldier for the past ten years. He resigned about a year ago; he's now a police detective."

"If he is a police detective, then why was he in your custody when he was brought here?"

"Two nights ago I received a call that Jim had been injured in the line of duty. When I arrived at the hospital I could tell his senses were coming back. I was able to get him checked out and brought him home. He started to really have problems soon after. I thought I could handle him, but he just couldn't seem to understand that I was trying to help. I found the emergency number for the SGR and called when he began to scratch himself bloody."

Blair nodded thoughtfully, keeping his expression carefully neutral. "One more question, sir. Why did you, as you said, force your son into suppressing his senses?"

This time there was anger in the older man's eyes. "Because I knew that if he was a sentinel, he would lose everything when he bonded to a guide. Everything I had hoped and dreamed for him would never be, his inheritance, his trust fund, everything would belong to some stranger that would be in charge of him for the rest of his life. I didn't want that for my son!"

"I see," Blair shook his head. There where many misconceptions about the Sentinel/Guide partnership, this was one of them. Yes there were laws that initially restricted a sentinel, but they were for their protection as well as the protection of those around them. "Thank you for your honest answers, Mr. Ellison. Since James Ellison is an adult, we don't need your permission to enter him into training. However, I do need to know who to contact at the police department to let them know he is in our care."

"Wha-?"

"The name of his captain or department will do." Blair continued, his expression broker no argument.

"I believe it's Simon Banks at police headquarters."

"Thank you, Mr. Ellison. You can go now. We'll let you know how your son is doing, if that is what he wishes." Blair closed the journal. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the door."

"Wait, can't I see him just once more?" William asked.

"I'm sorry, in accordance to SGR rules, he is now officially under our protection. He was brought here under duress and has been physically assaulted at least once in the last 48 hours. Until he is conscious and stable he isn't allowed any visitors. This is for your safety as well as his. Good day, sir."

With those words, William Ellison was gently escorted out to the lobby and lock out of the security area. Stunned and confused, William stood in front of the locked door for a good five minutes. With a resigned sigh, he turned and left the building, hoping that he would hear from his son soon.

Jim rested in a cushion of darkness; there was a sense of weightlessness that was as comforting as it was disturbing. He didn't know where he was; all he knew was that there was little pain.

Very slowly as if rising to the surface of the water after a deep dive, he worked his way back to consciousness. As he rose, he began to remember bits and pieces. Not enough to get a clear picture, but it was disturbing enough to make him want to dive back into the darkness and drift. Yet something inside him wouldn't let him just run and hide.

Feeling himself finally connect to his body, he gingerly took stock. He was laying on an soft bed, in a room that was dark and very quiet. His body hurt in places that he didn't think had hurt him since his first week in Army boot camp. He also noticed that he was nearly naked, with a warm, soft blanket thrown over him.

Opening his eyes a little more, he saw the room was small, maybe 15 feet by 15 feet, the walls were of a neutral beige color and the floor was covered in soft fabric.

"Hello?" he called gruffly. His voice was rough and raw, though he couldn't remember why. His right eye was swollen enough to keep him from opening it completely.

The memory of having been on a stake out returned to him, suddenly he was afraid that he had somehow fallen into the hands of the suspects he had been watching. The door opened, admitting a young man, 20 years old, maybe a little older. Jim's fears eased slightly, he didn't match the description of any of the suspects.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Ellison."

"What's going on? Where am I?" Jim asked anger warring with concern.

"I'm Blair Sandburg," he said. "You're in the SGR building at Rainier University. You've been admitted into protective custody until you're healthy enough to try working on your senses."

"What do you mean? I'm not a sentinel." Jim glared at him. Normally he could send men shivering with that look but the desired effect was lost when combined with the black eye and haggard appearance.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ellison, but you are a sentinel," Blair said kindly. "One that is going to need a great deal of work if you ever want to join society again in any meaningful way."

"Join society again." Jim mocked. "Yeah right. In the hands of some stranger. Not likely, Doc."

Blair was taken aback by the blatant hostility. Though it was rare to find someone with Sentinel Emergence Syndrom as old as Ellison, he would have thought it obvious to anyone how necessary training was, especially to a cop. "I know this is all new for you, but unless you cooperate with us, you could be here for a very long time. Or would you rather go back to you job and face zoning out in the middle of a fire fight?"

"Okay lets forget about that for a second. First things first. How did I get here?" Jim asked tiredly.

"Your father," Blair said simply. "He brought you here against your will. By the time I was able to intervene you were in pretty bad shape."

Jim glanced down at his bare arms, seeing the scratches and bruises were beginning to heal. "How long have I been here? Last thing I remember was the stakeout... and maybe a hospital."

"Roughly 36 hours." Blair smiled at Jim's consternation. "It's okay. We let you sleep yourself out. It was pretty obvious that you were exhausted."

"Okay just one more question." Jim said, a gleam in his eye said he thought he'd found the flaw in Blair's argument about being a sentinel.

"Ask away."

"If I'm a sentinel, why can't I detect anything beyond this room?"

"Because this is a quiet room, specifically created for injured, unbonded sentinels so that they don't overload. However, in addition to the room's dampening abilities, Dr. Chang administered a small dose of a drug that suppressed your abilities for a short time. She thought it best that you rest as long as possible."

Jim's head popped up at the mention of the drug. "Oh no, Mr. Ellison. That drug is administered in extremely small doses and never given as a way to permanently suppress the senses."

"Why not? I'm too old to do this sentinel-guide bullshit." Jim growled, wondering if there was any way to get a message to his boss.

"Because the human body develops a tolerance to the drug after a short period of time. And once the effects no longer work, there is no way to artificially control your senses if something should happen and your guide is unavailable."

Blair's trained eye caught the suppressed shudder that ran through Jim's body. He had seen reactions like this before from family members who didn't understand. He knew this was going to be a difficult time for everyone concerned.

"I take it you'll be my keeper until you decide I'm trained well enough to be handed off to someone I've never met, who'll be my keeper the rest of my life."

"Jim, guides aren't keepers. They are a sentinel's partner in life." Blair explained with a gentle smile. "And no, I'm not going to be training you. I'm actually the head of the Guide Instructional department. As an unbonded guide myself, I'm not allowed to work with untrained sentinels."

Jim shifted on the bed so that he rested his back against the wall. "Not keepers, right, Sandburg. Then why does Detective Robertson's guide carry all their money? He's doesn't even have pocket change most days to get an snack from the vending machines."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit, Jim," Blair replied, taken aback. "Yes, the guide is given power of attorney, but that is for the protection of the sentinel."

"Tell that to someone that believes you, Chief." Jim snorted.

Blair sighed. "Look, Jim. I know that there are some guides that have taken advantage of the sentinels in the past. But our training is supposed to weed those traits and eliminate it. You have nothing to fear, you'll be paired with someone who is already in training to join law enforcement."

"Don't do me any favors, Sandburg," Jim growled.

"A trainer will be by tomorrow morning to evaluate the extent of your abilities." Blair ignored his anger, as it was an understandable reaction. "In the mean time, I have contacted your superior, Captain Banks. He was quite upset, but is looking forward to you returning to duty as a trained sentinel."

"Yeah, right. I just bet that's what he said." Jim snorted. "I guess that drug makes people with heightened senses more passive as well as dampening their senses."

"Why do you say that?" Blair asked, a little startled. Not many under the drugs influence ever noticed it's calming effects. They were usually too grateful for the break from their senses to notice.

"Because, otherwise you'd be missing a few teeth." Jim grinned evilly. "Get out of here and leave me alone." He glared at the younger man until he left. Then Jim stretched out and tried to get some more sleep.

Captain Simon Banks was beside himself with worry. His best detective, Jim Ellison, had been acting erratic for weeks. Snapping at coworkers, scaring the shit out of suspects, and stalking around the bullpen like a caged animal. The captain had figured that it was job related stress; Ellison hadn't had a more than one day off a week for nearly two months.

The only way to get any relief for the other members of Major Crime was to stick Ellison on a stake out for a few days. The flu epidemic was such that he couldn't afford to give Ellison any time off. Simon had a patrol unit assigned to be Jim's backup, in case anything went down. Unfortunately, the backup had been pulled when a shootout happened only a few bocks from their position.

The details were still sketchy, but the initial report was that Ellison's surveillance had been spotted. Why he wasn't able to get away still wasn't clear, but when the backup returned ten minutes later, they found Jim on the ground outside his truck. He had been roughed up badly and was unresponsive to the officers' attempts to speak to him.

Ellison had been admitted to the hospital and had finally come around a few hours later. Simon had gone to visit him, only to find Jim had been checked out by his father.

When questioned the doctors said that they protested the detective's removal from their care, but since the Ellison family was a major contributors to the hospital, they let him go.

It was an hour before his shift was over that Simon had gotten a call he never expected:

"Banks speaking." Simon barked into the receiver, in no mood to deal with anyone at the moment.

"Hello, Captain Banks," replied a calm voice on the other side. "I'm Professor Blair Sandburg of the Rainier University branch of the Sentinel Guide Research Project. I'm calling in regards to one of your detectives, James Ellison."

"I don't understand why would the SGR have any interest in Ellison?" Simon demanded.

"Detective Ellison has been admitted into the SGR as a newly awakened sentinel. His injuries, most of which I assume are job related, are being tended to and he'll be remaining with us until he has had at least some training."

"He what?" Simon was shocked to say the least, his voice boomed across through his office gaining the attention of those in the bullpen. "Now wait a minute, Mr. Sandburg. Detective Ellison has never shown any signs of heightened senses before. Why would he suddenly have them now?"

"Honestly, Captain, though rare it can happen under the proper circumstances. Having had no formal training before, Ellison is very vulnerable to zone outs and overloads. I request, most strongly, that you place him on medical level until further notice. I'll contact you again when he is ready to have visitors."

"Wait!" Simon called, knowing that the conversation was over as far as the professor was concerned.

"Yes, Captain?"

"How is he?" Simon asked with concern. "He may be just another member of my squad, but I look after my people like family."

"He's resting comfortably." The business like voice changed to one full of compassion, it seemed someone at the SGR had some heart after all. "The injuries weren't that serious, mostly bruises and the mild concussion. He'll make a full recovery."

"Thank God." Simon sighed.

"Captain, I assure you, your detective will be fine. Sentinel Emergence Syndrom can be rather traumatic, but he is handling it quite well. Now I have to go, there is a lot to do before Sentinel Ellison's training can begin."

The call ended then, leaving Simon with many questions and one less detective. Turning to look at the bullpen, he decided that telling his men about this new development could wait for morning.

In fact, he had waited all the next day, trying to figure out a way to tell his men this new development. With a sigh, he stepped out of his office, knowing that he couldn't delay any more.

"People, could I please have your attention." He projected his voice over the din of conversation. Everyone that was in the area stopped what they were doing and turned to listed. "I know we've all been under a lot of pressure lately, due to the flu epidemic. You've all pulled your weight and then some to cover for your coworkers. For that I thank you." There was a generally positive reaction to the captain's words of praise. "Unfortunately, we're going to be slightly more short handed than we were before. Ellison has been put on medical leave, and there's no telling when he'll be back."

"Excuse me, Sir." Detective Brown called out. "Ellison wasn't that badly hurt, was he?" Brown and his partner Rafe had a great deal of respect for Ellison, even if it was like trying to be friendly to a porcupine.

"No he wasn't," Simon reassured him. "Jim was diagnosed as being a sentinel. He's now under the care of the SGR."

Several support people gasped. While many of the detectives just stared in disbelieve. Sentinels were, while not common, often seen working in the field of police. Some worked in forensics while others were full detective with their guides as partners. All of the sentinel/guide pairs currently employed by the Cascade P.D. had been trained from childhood. No one knew what to expect from a newly awakened sentinel. Especially one with a temper like Ellison's.

"Poor bugger," Inspector Megan Connor said. "He must be going through hell."

"Personally, I feel sorry for whoever they bond him to," Detective Jack Pendergrast said.

"Why?" Megan asked.

"Because, Jim will probably drive them insane." he replied.

"Oh, right!" Brown crowed. "Ellison's house rules from Hell. I remember, Jim was guarding some witness at a safe house for a week. The poor guy was ready to take his chances on the street rather than have to deal with Jim any more."

"Okay, enough people," Simon called out above the din of laughter. "Detective Sorenson should be back tomorrow and Anderson in a few days. Now everyone try to stay healthy. Those of you going home, get out now, while I'm feeling generous. Those of you staying, get back to work, we've got a hell of a back log of cases."

Blair sat with his colleagues in O'Rielly's, a local hang-out for the students and teachers of Rainier, though at the moment it was nearly deserted. The spring semester had ended last week, and the summer schedule wasn't going to start for another week. His fellow teachers, both full professors and teaching fellows were taking a much needed break.

"So, Blair, I hear you were there when that new sentinel was brought in." Colin McClaine said taking a long swallow on his beer.

Blair nodded. "He was being roughed up by the SGR guards that were bringing him in."

"Was he badly hurt?" Cheryl Dorsey asked, she was a teaching fellow working on her Ph.D. in sentinel medicine.

"He would have been if I hadn't stepped in," Blair replied worriedly. "I'm beginning to wonder if the SGR isn't giving the security force too much leeway out in the field."

"Oh come on, Blair." Colin countered. "Out of control sentinels have been known to kill people that try to help them. Any force is acceptable to keep innocent people from being hurt."

"We've never authorized the use of batons." Blair said emphatically. "One of the guards, I didn't get his name but I'll never forget his face, pulled one out and used it on the sentinel. There was no way Ellison could have hurt him in his condition. That guard was going to beat him for no good reason."

"That you know of," Colin replied. "How do you know that he wasn't reacting violently before they were able restrain him? My father was a SGR guard until one unbonded sentinel shattered his kneecap."

"So that gives all guards the right to strike someone whose sense of touch could be out of control?" Blair demanded. "Have you ever seen a sentinel zone-out because of pain? Or worse, be so overloaded that they can't zone out, so they are locked into a cycle of reliving the same pain over and over again?"

"Hey, can we talk about something else?" Professor David Reynolds asked. "It's hard enough to get my students to pay attention to their lessons, when they're mooning over the idea of bonding. Even the regular students are prone to daydreaming about the notion."

"But what are we really teaching them?" Cheryl asked, setting down her drink. "I'm not sure anymore. This last year I've seen more potential guides get kicked out of the system, because they join up thinking that their getting a body servant when they bond. What is the true perception of from the outside looking in that makes people think this way?"

Anne Faulkner, head of the placement board at Rainier, cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Blair and the others are correct. There has been a dearth of candidates with the proper attitude coming into the program. I'm not sure why though. Perhaps the recruiters are ill trained, or possibly there is a flaw in the early screening process." She raised a hand to stave off complaints from both sides. "The point is, that I have seen evidence that some bad eggs may have slipped through our screening. Leaving desperate sentinels no choice but to bond to someone that has no qualms about taking advantage of the situation. Most pairings never go past second level bonding anymore. While that may be sufficient for a partnership in some cases, it smacks of incompetence on our part since the pairings must, in some way, be incompatible."

"That's it," Blair muttered. "I'm reinstating the psych test that my classes used to have. I don't give a damn if the students don't like it. Sentinels and Guides are supposed to protect people. How can a sentinel do his job, when he can't trust his guide?"

"Exactly," Anne agreed. "There may be a one in a hundred guides that graduate that aren't fit to bond, but when we have barely even numbers on both sides, a desperate sentinel isn't necessarily in any condition to be choosey."

"So what do we do?" Colin asked countered. "Go back to the old bonding ceremony? Please! That's barbaric, not to mention time consuming."

Blair's eyes lit up at the idea. "Actually, that's a great idea, Colin. Thank you for suggesting it. Only a guide truly committed to a bonding would be willing to go through with it and the sentinel would be able to imprint on his guide in the way that his instincts insist on."

Anne grinned broadly. "Indeed and excellent idea. Professor Sandburg and I will pull all the relevant data, and have a proposal to the Dean by next weekend. Right, Blair?"

"You bet." Blair agreed, eager to put a stop to the growing problem in any way possible.

The conversations continued long into the night, until finally they had to leave or be kicked out by the owner. Blair, having only had one beer the entire night, drove home in his classic silver Corvair. The small apartment he had was filled with boxes of research and takeout cartons could be seen occasionally. He stripped quickly and climbed into his full-sized bed, trying to relax.

An image of Jim Ellison, wearing Army fatigues and a haggard expression flashed across his mind. He wondered briefly the significance of the image, before drifting off to sleep.

Jim paced around the cubical impatiently. He hated being confined for any length of time. While the room wasn't hurting his senses, he couldn't help but try and detect what lay beyond the four walls.

He had woken up a few hours ago, his internal clock told him it was now late morning. Having been told that he had slept for over a day and a half, it was understandable that he now felt like his stomach was trying to eat through to his spine. He hadn't received more than a saline IV at the hospital, and it had been hours since he'd had anything to eat when he'd been attacked at the stake-out.

He was able to drink water from the small efficiency sized toilet and sink setup in the corner, but it wasn't enough. Trained in the military, Jim was beginning to think of himself as a prisoner in a rather comfortable cell.

There was a slight scraping noise as the door was unlocked and opened. Jim pressed himself back against the wall to watch get a jump on the intruder, should his intentions be hostile. He relaxed slightly when the smell of freshly cooked bacon wafted through the room.

"Your breakfast is here, Sentinel Ellison." Jim noticed light reflecting off a blade as the man came in the door. Jim snatched the wrist and slammed the man against the wall, face first, twisting the captured arm around his back.

"Who are you!" Jim growled into his ear.

"Please don't hurt me. I'm Jeffery Blake, I work here." The smell of fear rose thickly from the man's trembling body.

"Why did you come in here wielding a knife?" Jim twisted the arm harder.

"Ahh! It was an accident, I forgot to put it down, before I opened the door."

"You really expect me to believe you?" Jim hissed.

"It's the truth, I swear. Please don't kill me," Blake whimpered piteously.

Jim stepped back from Blake to let him up, his body ready for anything. "Alright, I'll let you do your job, but don't make any sudden movements."

Blake carefully edged back to the door and reached out to grab the tray containing Jim's breakfast. He set it on the table and slowly edges out of the room. "I-I'm supposed to tell you that your trainer should be here in an hour to evaluate you."

"Well tell whoever it is that I don't appreciate being confined. It makes me cranky." Jim's hard glare sent Blake scurrying for cover. He shut the door, which Jim heard lock automatically.

Jim felt a level of almost feral satisfaction at having frightened the orderly. He had shown the man he was no one to mess with and protected his territory from a potentially hostile invader.

He sat on the bed and pulled the rolling table over to eat his breakfast. He was grateful that it was high in protein. An omelette with mushrooms and cheese, several strips of bacon, and a tall glass of grape juice.

After he was done he set the table aside to wait for his 'trainer'. He resented the way that sounded, it made him feel less like a man and more like some pet. Maybe it hadn't always been like this, but he felt as though the SGR never told the whole true about what they did. The half truths that lead to speculation and rumors about possibly sinister doings within the hallowed halls.

If he didn't have such a personal stake in it, he'd be itching to investigate. But there would be time for that later, once he got a handle on his senses... And a guide.

Jim sat down hard on the bed, his head cradled in his hands. He didn't want a guide. A loner since childhood, always trying his best to keep everyone at arms length. Because he knew, from hard experience that anyone he felt close to would betray him.

There was a soft knock as the door opened again. The woman was nearly six foot and built like a distance runner under the gray coveralls she was wearing. "Sentinel Ellison? I'm Rebecca Wallace. I'm here to evaluate you."

"Evaluate," Jim shook his head, slapped his right knee and stood. "Sure, why the hell not. Lets put the new lab rat through his paces and see how he scores."

"Sentinel Ellison, there is no need for hostility." Rebecca admonished. "If you'll follow me to the training room, we can begin."

Jim stared at her incredulously. "If you think I'm going anywhere in nothing but my underwear, you are completely nuts."

The trainer raked her eyes over his well developed body with undisguised appreciation. "Such a shame to cover you up, but if you insist."

Jim felt his stomach clench with disgust, as she left the room again and came back with a set of white silk pants and robe top, much like a Gi worn for martial arts. Jim slipped them on quickly, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

"Now, follow me." Wallace strode out of the room, heading down a corridor that was filled with identical doors evenly spaces apart.

The SGR trainer lead Jim down to the end of the hallway, using a key-card to open a set of double doors. When they finally reached their destination, Jim's feet were ice cold from walking barefoot on the tile floor. He stepped inside the room and froze.

Sitting in the middle of a large room, surrounded by monitoring equipment, was a modern dentist style chair.

"Have a seat, I'll begin the tests as soon as you are settled." Wallace instructed.

With great reluctance he did as he was told, his steal blue eyes watching her every movement. Rebecca attached several sensors to his chest and temples to monitor his heart and brainwave patterns. Jim cringed slightly when her touch lingered a little too long on his skin.

For the next three days, in four hour sessions each day, Jim's senses were tested in every conceivable way. Along with the dozens of stimuli that were introduced, all designed to test his tolerance limits, he had to endure the meaningful glances and 'accidental' touches that got a little too intimate for his comfort. Wallace was so obvious in her covetousness of his body that it was vulgar. Each time he gently but firmly told her to back off.

Maybe the last auditory test wasn't supposed to be painful, but it felt as though someone had stabbed a knife right into Jim's skull. In a flash of agonized rage, Jim grabbed hold of Wallace by her coveralls and tossed her, like a rag-doll, across the room.

"Fuck, lady, are you trying to kill me?" Jim said clutching the sides of his head. He didn't see her surprised, fearful expression change to anger, nor did he see her touch the small pager on her belt as she got to her feet.

"I wasn't even doing anything, Sentinel Ellison," she replied curtly.

Jim stood quickly as she approached, ripping off the sensors from his body. "Bullshit. I don't know what you did, but it's not happening again. This little session is over. You got that?"

"Sit back down, Sentinel. That's an order." Wallace demanded. "We have several more tests to perform."

"Not a chance." Jim replied coldly.

The door swung open reveling two guards. "Is everything all right, Ms. Wallace?"

"Dugan, Rycroft, this sentinel is being uncooperative. Get him back in the chair. Use the restraints of you have to."

"Yes ma'am," They approached Jim from opposite sides. He easily tossed them off the first two attempts to restrain him. Watching carefully as for signs of movement, he anticipated each attack using the least amount of force necessary to keep them at bay.

Trained for hand to hand combat, the guards where no match for his skill. But the tests and the adrenalin rush were a bad combination for his senses. Jim felt a wave of dizziness as his hearing suddenly went off line. His sense of smell spiked, sending him reeling from the stench of sweaty bodies.

The guards tackled Jim to the floor before he could recover, using zip-cuffs to restrain his legs and arms. He twisted and struggled, screaming in rage and pain, lashing out with his bound limbs even as he was roughly lifted off the floor and dragged back to the chair.

Jim twisted hard as the chest restrain was being set in place, instinct taking over reason as he bit down on Guard Rycroft's arm. A sense of feral joy flooded him when he tasted blood. Pain exploded through his body when he felt an electrical charge at the side of his neck, then he knew nothing more.

Wallace watched with a smug grin as Ellison had been finally taken down by the guards. She'd had plans for a week long get away with her boyfriend that she'd had to cancel because of him. It hadn't been so bad, after all he was a very attractive man and a to die for body. But like every sentinel, just another freak show attraction needing a keeper. He was getting just what he deserved for brushing off her advances.

Suddenly Rycroft screamed as the sentinel bite into his arm, nearly taking a chunk of flesh out. Wallace rushed forward to help them, only to see Dugan pull out a tazer and touch it to Ellison's neck.

"No!" Wallace shouted much too late.

"What's your problem?" Dugan spat. "This animal bit my partner."

Wallace rushed over to Ellison, checking his vitals. His pulse was thready and weak and his eyes were open, but there was no sign of consciousness in them.

"Oh shit." Wallace grabbed her pager and hit the medical emergency button. "You could have killed him you fool!"

"Yeah, so what?" Dugan spat. "It's not like there aren't more where he came from. Probably be doing him a favor."

"What happened?" Asked Dr. Chang as she quickly entered the room, an assistant on her heels.

Wallace swallowed hard before answering. "Sentinel Ellison became uncooperative during my evaluation. I called security to assist me, and he became violent. Dugan used a tazer on him after he bit Rycroft."

Serena gently turned Jim's neck to examine the twin burn marks on his neck. "Rachel, get me a gurney, we need to get him back into a safe room." She rounded on the people responsible for the sentinel's condition. "If I had time, you would all be out on the streets in three seconds flat. But at the moment, I don't want to see any of you near this man ever again."

"What about my arm?" Rycroft asked as he and Dugan slinked out of the room.

"Because of your actions Ellison has gone into a catatonic zone-out." Serena said acidly. "With no guide, we'll be lucky if he ever comes out of it. You want help with that, go to the infirmary."

"I'm sorry-" Wallace began.

"I don't want to hear it, Rebecca. Just get out of my sight, all of you."

Rachel returned with the gurney and helped Serena get the unresponsive sentinel safely back in his room. "I can't believe someone would use a tazer on a sentinel, here of all places."

"It's against everything we've taught our employees about safety." Serena replied. "Ellison is lucky to be alive."

"Is there anything we can do for him?" Rachel asked, taking a scizzor and cutting the bindings on Jim's wrists and ankles.

The doctor shook her head. "If he had a guide, maybe."

"Can't we get one of the unbonded guides to try to wake him up?" Rachel asked. "We just can't leave him like this."

Serena shook her head. "It's been tried before, but very rarely is there any success."

"But why? Sentinels are supposed to respond to a guides voice."

"Yes, but an unknown guide can't connect deeply with an unbonded sentinel. It just doesn't work." Serena froze as a thought came to her. "We may have one chance of saving Ellison. Let's just hope he's home." She stepped out of the room and grabbed her phone from her belt pouch.

"Let's see, now. Red wine, a little soft music, a fabulous dinner." Blair grinned to himself. There was nothing he liked more than entertaining, especially when it was for a new relationship.

Not that this was anything heavy, but it was nice to have company now that he had the time to enjoy it. His life working with guides in training and bonded pairs was very rewarding, but it left him no time for himself on weekdays. Tonight was the first real date he'd have in nearly two months and he was looking forward to it.

The soft knock on his door, heralded the arrival of his guest. He whipped off his apron and quickly smoothed his hair before opening the door. "Samantha, you look stunning." He breathed as the thin dark haired woman, with a killer body and a sexy smile stepped past him.

"This is a nice place, Blair." She said looking around. "The university must pay well."

"Well, probably not as much as you get paid working for the police," Blair shrugged, taking her jacket. "But I get by."

"I was surprised when you called me to come over for a late lunch." Sam said, taking in the seductive setting. "I'm glad I had off today."

They sat down together at the table, and made small talk as they ate. Blair still couldn't believe this beautiful creature actually agreed to have lunch with him. Not that he had problems finding dates, but he had been trying to get her to go out with him for months.

When lunch was finished they moved to the living room. Sitting together on the couch, things had just started to get interesting when Blair's cell phone went off.

"Who the...?" Blair grumbled. "Sorry, just let me see who this is?"

"Okay, Blair," Sam sighed dramatically. "But hurry back, okay?"

He grinned and nodded as he answered the phone. "Sandburg here."

<"Thank god I found you." >

"Serena? What's wrong?" Blair asked, startled to hear from his colleague.

<"Ellison took exception to some of the tests he was subjected to during his evaluation and his trainer called in security. One of the guards used a tazer on him.">

"Oh my god." Blair closed his eyes. "Is he alive?"

<"Yes but he's zoned into catatonia.">

"Oh no..." Blair's chest tightened with grief. "What do you need?"

<"I want to try something, but I need your help.">

"I'll be right over." Blair promised grabbing his jacket and wallet as he spoke. He turned off the phone and grabbed his keys from the hook by the door.

"Blair, where are you going?" Sam demanded.

Blair spun in surprise, having totally forgotten he had company. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I have an emergency back at Rainier." He trotted over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I have to go. Please lock the door when you leave."

"I don't believe it!" Sam was aghast. "What could be so important over there?"

"I can't tell you. It's SGR stuff. I'll call you when I can."

He didn't hear her reply as he flew out the door.

When he arrived at Rainier he was so worried about Ellison's condition that his hands shook as he used his key-card on the security door. Once inside he practically ran through the halls to the isolation wing. Where he found Dr. Chang and her assistant Rachel Hong waiting for him.

"How is he?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected." Serena replied sadly. "There isn't much more I can do as a doctor except keep him comfortable."

"What do you want me to do?" Blair felt jumpy, like he wanted to climb the walls.

"Normally in a situation like this, the guide can use their link to bring their sentinel back." Serena said. "You were the only fully trained unbonded guide he has ever had contact with. I'd like you to try and bring him around."

"Do you think it will work?" Blair asked.

"It's a long shot," she admitted. "But I'm not willing to give up on him. He's seems to be a fighter, maybe you can reach him."

Blair looked around the room, frowning at the stark walls. "I think we need to get him out of this room, assuming I can wake him."

"Why? There's nothing that can hurt him here." Rachel said.

"Never mind, right now, just close the door behind me and don't open it again until I knock." Blair said stepping into the room.

Serena nodded and closed the door, hearing the automatic lock engage as she did so. "Please, let this work."

Blair knelt next to the bed, and cradled Jim's right hand in his. The bright blue eyes were still open despite Serena's attempt to close them. He placed his left hand on the side of Jim's head letting his fingers run through the silky soft brown hair.

"Jim, I know you're in there. I can pretty much figure out what happened. You where hurting from the tests and didn't want to do it anymore." Blair modulated his voice to a soft timber. "I know that shock was really painful, but they're gone now. They can't hurt you again."

"I know it's nice and comfortable in that dark place. Safe from all the pain of the outside world. But that's not living, and you have a duty to protect."

Blair shifted until his lips were inches from Jim's ear. "You've only met me once. I know that's not a lot of time to get to know someone, but if you woke up, you could get to know me better. Maybe we could be friends."

Blair continued to speak in a soft low voice, letting his hands caress Jim's hands and face for what felt like hours. Just as he was beginning to despair, a shudder ran though Jim's entire body.

The lifeless eyes blinked, cleared, and locked with his own. Jim's free hand came up, shakily, and cupped Blair's chin. "You know what, Chief," Jim whispered roughly. "You talk too much."

Blair felt like crying he was so relieved to see life back in him. "How do you feel?"

"Stiff, sore... tired. My neck hurts like hell." Jim sighed, closing his eyes for a moment enjoying the feel of being touched so gently. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't supposed to see you."

Blair shrugged. "You got hurt, we needed a guide to wake you up."

"I zoned?" Jim asked in confusion. "The last thing I remember is those guards trying to strap me down to that damn chair."

"You're okay now," Blair promised placing his right hand over Jim's heart. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Jim looked Blair in the eyes and both men froze. There was a feeling of weightlessness as a charge of energy ran though both of them. Blair was able to move first, falling onto his butt in shock, breaking physical contact with Jim.

"What was that?" Jim asked breathlessly, his skin still tingling slightly.

Blair shook himself and stood on wobbly legs. "I-I think that was a level one bonding." A smile spreading across his face.

At Jim's look of confusion, Blair explained. "There are three levels of bonding, between sentinels and guides. A level one is just surface bonding, an initial connection that allows us to sense each other. Level two is a deeper level, that happens when trust and emotional attachment is created. Third level is a full bonding. Heart, mind, body. When you dedicate your life and soul to your bond-mate."

"You sound like you're teaching a class, Sandburg." Jim commented lightly.

Blair colored a little as he said, "I teach beginner's level sentinel studies for guides in training."

"So are we stuck with each other?" Jim asked half jokingly. He sat up carefully, groaning when abused joints protested the move.

Blair grimaced and shook his head. "That's where levels two and three come in. This is the 'getting to know you' faze. If we aren't compatible, you'll be drawn to someone else more strongly."

Jim tilted his head in thought. "You've bonded at level one before?"

"Once, she didn't like the idea of me being a teacher." Blair shrugged. "She wanted someone who was willing to travel, since she had ambitions to join the Coast Guard. She found a guy from her graduating class that was a thrill seeker and bonded with him. We agreed to sever our connection."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't do it." Blair smiled sadly.

"It sounds like you've been wanting to bond fully and there is no guarantee that we'll work out." Jim stood and tied the belt around his waist, closing his robe. "I'd rather not cause you that kind of pain if I can avoid it."

"Thanks, Jim. That means a lot to me," he replied softly. Pulling himself together he headed to the door. "I better tell Dr. Chang you're okay. She's probably worried sick."

Blair knocked on the door hard lightly and waited a minute. When there was no initial response, he knocked harder. The door open almost immediately, to reveal a very worried Serena. "Is everything alright?" She asked. "It's been over two hours."

"See for yourself," Blair stepped aside to show Jim standing behind him.

"Oh thank god." The doctor lost her professional distance and hugged the confused sentinel.

"Sandburg?" His eyes begging for an explanation.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Blair reassured him. "Just believe me when I say, it didn't look good for you."

Serena pulled herself together and apologized. Then looked from Blair to Jim and back again. "Did something else happen while you were in there?"

"Um, no, not much," Blair grinned. "Just a first level bonding."

"Oh!" She threw her arms around Blair this time. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I take it this is a good thing?" Jim asked with a breathy laugh.

"You have no idea, man." Blair grinned back at him. "There is a betting pool that has grown over the years, about when I was going to get bonded again. I think whoever had this month wins like two thousand dollars or some ungodly amount like that."

"Did you see about any of those arrangements?" Blair asked the doctor.

"There's a slight problem, Blair. All the on campus housing had been taken for the next semester. I couldn't even find a unused office."

"Dammit," Blair combed his hair with his fingers for a moment. "Okay, we have to have other options."

"What's the problem?" Jim asked.

Blair turned to him. "We have a certain amount of housing set aside for sentinels, in case of an emergency an injured sentinel can be placed in these safe rooms. But it's not healthy to keep any sentinel in a room like this for a long time. And all the housing is full for next term."

"What's wrong with my going home?" Jim demanded. "I feel fine now."

"You've just had your senses emerge, had a major zone out, and first level bonded in less than a weeks time. You're psyche needs time to adjust." Serena said kindly.

"If you want, I suppose you could come live with me, but there isn't much more than a two room efficiency apartment." Blair offered.

"Well, you could always come stay at my place, Sandburg. I have a loft apartment, not ten minutes from here." Jim crossed his arms. He was going to make sure there was no mistaking that he was still in charge of his life. "My apartment even has a spare bedroom."

Serena and Blair exchanges glances. "That works too." Blair admitted. "Let me grab some stuff at my place first. Then can go."

Captain Banks looked up from the report he was reading when he heard a knock on his office door. He mentally cringed when he saw the technical support chief, Carolyn Plummer enter his office. She looked worried and annoyed, which was understandable under the circumstances.

"Carolyn, I've been meaning to call you." he said with a smile plastered on his face.

"Is it true?" She asked. "Is what I heard this morning about Jim true?"

Simon let the smile drop and rubbed his tired eyes. "I got a call from the SGR a few days ago. They have him in custody until he can be trained to control his senses."

"And where does that leave me?" She sat down heavily in one of the office chairs.

"Carol, you know he loves you." Simon reassured her.

She shook her head. "What does that matter? If he really is a sentinel, he'll have get a guide." She looked down at the small diamond ring on her finger. "I knew from the start that any relationship we had would take a backseat to his work. But... I don't think I can handle this."

Simon got up from his desk and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Give it some time. The guy I talked to, Professor Sandburg, said that he would let him have visitors when Jim was stable."

"Why is this happening?" Carolyn asked, her voice breaking with emotion. "The wedding is in less than a month. What am I supposed to tell my family?"

"How about the truth." Simon offered gently. "Jim came down with SES after a prolonged stakeout and there is no telling when he'll be able to return to a normal life."

"Normal, right," she snorted. "What is normal for a sentinel?"

"Carol," Simon cautioned. "You know it's not his fault."

"I know!" Carolyn stood and paces the office. "But who can I be angry with? I haven't seen my fiance` in weeks thanks to his over time and the stake out. Now I learn that I'm not allowed to see him. It's not right, Simon. No one should have that much control over another human being."

"The laws governing the SGR were enacted decades ago, Carolyn." Simon reminded her. "During a time when there had been several murder suicide occurrences perpetrated by sentinels that refused treatment. It's for their protection as well as ours."

"It's wrong Simon," Carolyn insisted. "Who ever Jim bonds will have power of attorney over him. Even if Jim still wanted to marry me, I'd have no legal say in any part of his life."

"What do you want to do then?" Simon asked tiredly. "Call off the engagement?"

She looked at the ring on her hand again. "Maybe that would be for the best, all things considered."

Simon pulled her into a tight hug. She resisted at firs, then buried her head in his chest, crying softly. "Wait, at least until you can talk to him. You both need time to adjust, okay?"

"Okay," she promised, wiping her eyes. "I'd better go over to his place and clean out the fridge. There's no telling when he'll be back."

Simon let her go, watching with a heavy heart as she turned and let the office.

"So... " Jim cleared his throat as Blair parked his car outside an apartment building. "This is where you live?"

"Yeah, its a good neighborhood, well lit streets, convenient shopping..."

"And a monthly rental rate well over the national average per square feet," Jim interupted.

"Yeah, I know." Blair grimaced, climbing out of the car. "Come on up, I'll throw some clothes in a suitcase and well be out of here in ten minutes."

"What ever, Chief." Jim replied following him into the building. "I'm just glad to get out of that cell."

Blair glanced at him with concern. "It's not a cell; it's a safe room."

"It's a small windowless room with a sink and toilet, with doors that lock automatically and no handle on the inside. That is a prison cell."

"Come on, its not that bad." Blair groused as they took the elevator to the second floor. "Most sentinels are grateful for the relief it gives them."

"Well most sentinels have never known life without walls." Jim countered.

Blair paused in taking out his keys to digest that information, filing it away for later reference. The elevator opened and he lead the way to apartment 213.

As he opened the door, he could hear the radio playing. He suddenly remembered the aborted romantic afternoon he had been in the middle of when the call had come in.

He stepped into the dimly lit room and froze in shock. At any other time in his life, the sight of a woman, especially one as beautiful as Samantha Ortega, lying on the couch naked with a wine glass in her hand, would have sent him into a lust-filled frenzy. However, seeing this same sight, with Jim Ellison right on his heels was a complete disaster.

"Blair, I decided to wait for- Oh shit!" She saw Jim come in behind Blair and hastily grabbed the woven blanket that was draped over the back of the couch to cover herself.

"Sam?" Jim croaked in surprise, quickly averting his eyes from her to look at the floor.

"You two know each other?" For some reason, it was the only thing that Blair could think to say.

If looks could kill, Blair would have been dust from the fire Sam sent his way. "What the hell is Jim doing with you, Blair? I though he was being held by the SGR."

"We work at the same precinct, Chief." Jim explained, doing his best to ignore the sounds of his coworker running around throwing her clothes back on.

"This is not happening," Samantha muttered angrily.

Blair covered his eyes in disbelief. "Sam, I'm working with him to help with his senses."

Samantha stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowed into slits. "You're a guide?!" She stalked forward getting inches from him.

"Well, yeah." Blair replied in confusion. He didn't even see the hand that came forward to slap him, but Jim spun around and caught Sam by the arm before it could connect.

"Don't." Jim growled low. "Don't even think about touching him."

Sam pulled away from Jim's grasp, backing away and grabbing the last of her things. "I thought you just worked there. If I'd known you were a guide, I never would have gone out with you. Don't call me, Blair. Ever. You got that?"

"Yeah, I got it." Blair muttered watching as she stormed out of his apartment slamming the door shut behind her.

Jim covered his ears when the sound battered his hearing. Blair forgetting his problem momentarily reached up and touched Jim's shoulder. "It's okay, Jim. Just relax and let the pain flow out of you."

Jim relaxed slowly as Blair's soft touch on his shoulder and soothing voice worked their magic on him. "I'm better now, Sandburg. Thanks."

"Good, why don't you have a seat while I straighten up a bit, then I'll pack my things and we can get out of here." Blair offered

"No, it'll be faster if we both work on this mess." Jim replied.

"Don't argue. You're barely stable, in fact, I've gotta be nuts letting you out of the SGR so soon." Blair was all business. "Just sit back and relax."

Jim let himself be pushed down onto the couch, then closed his eyes and tried to do as instructed. He tuned into the rhythm of Blair's scent and steady heartbeat, trying to ignore the headache that was creeping up on him.

Jim felt the heat of the jungle around him, the heavy humidity that signaled the next downpour was only moments away. A soft growl in his ear alerted him that he was not alone in his treetop perch. Opening his eyes slowly he saw the shadowy shape of a panther relaxing on the branch just above him.

He felt no fear, having seen this same cat dozens of times before. His mentor had taught him to embrace the events that surround him. It had taken a long time to accept this idea, but he had.

A sudden touch on his shoulder jolted Jim out of his dream. Instinct kicked in before his brain was totally on line. He grabbed the intruder, flipping him onto the couch and pinning him with his forearm pressed hard against his wind pipe.

/Who are you?/ He demanded, shocked to be seeing blue eyes staring back at him. He asked the question again, but all he got was an uncomprehending stare.

"Jim, it's me, Blair. Don't kill me. Remember me, your guide?" Blair gasped out.

Jim blinked as the fog of the dream fell away. He was in Blair's apartment, currently trying to choke his guide into submission. "Blair?" He let go and back away from the couch, putting several feet between them. "I-I'm sorry."

Blair sat up, rubbing his throat. "Hey, it's my own fault for trying to wake an Army Ranger."

"I guess I fell asleep on you," Jim said.

"Yeah, you're body is still trying to recover from the zone out." Blair explained with a smile. "By the way, what was that language you were speaking? It sounded familiar."

"Language?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, when you grabbed me you spoke in some other language. You want to tell me about it?"

"Not particularly." Jim stiffened, his face became expressionless. "Now can we go?"

Blair filed that reaction away along with several other observations for later. "Yeah, all set."

"Then let's get out of here," Jim muttered. "I don't even want to think about what my refrigerator looks like."

"Lead the way man." Blair motioned as they left the apartment.

Jim hadn't been lying earlier when he said his apartment was close to the campus. Prospect Street was only three blocks away, and only one block in from the bay.

Building #852 was an old warehouse that had been converted into ground floor shops and second and third floor apartments. Blair pulled his car into one of the open parking spaces that were set in the center of the street rather than at the curbs.

"Looks like the P.D. brought my truck back here," Jim said with a satisfied nod. "Glad to know Simon is on the ball."

He climbed out of the Corvair and examined his truck. An early 90's teal F-150 Ford pickup with a half bed and a roll bar with a set of flood lights. He ran his hands over the hood, checking for any damage. "It's in good shape.

"Nice truck, Jim." Blair said with admiration. "You may want to put it in storage for a while though. It'll get ruined leaving it out here."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jim demanded.

"You have SES and a level one bond." Blair explained. "In accordance with federal law, your license to drive was suspended the moment the SGR registered you."

"Say what?!" Jim was livid. "Are you saying that because I'm a sentinel I can't drive?"

"Well, yeah." Blair raised his hands trying to placate the irate man. "It's only until you're trained and are ready for a second level bond. Calm down, it's not that serious."

"You want me to calm down? I've lost the legal right to drive, something that I've been doing since I was sixteen." Jim was up in Blair's face, ice blue eyes blazing with fury. "How would you like it if you suddenly lost your license to teach or your right to go to work, because of something you have no control over?"

"Jim, I know it looks bad, but honestly it's a good thing."

"You tell me how this could possibly be a good thing, Sandburg? I'm a police detective, I need to be able to drive to do my job."

"Um, about that." Blair bit his bottom lip, knowing someone, anyone should have told him about this earlier. "You're on medical leave from the department until the SGR says you are fit to work."

"Meaning?"

"That until the SGR says you're fit, you aren't allowed to work, period, unless it can be done from either your home or the SGR facility."

Jim's rage dissolved as a wave of despair took its place. He dropped his chin onto his chest and chuckled wryly. "You know, I fought for this country, put my life on the line for nothing more than a sense of duty and honor. Now I don't have the rights most poor suckers take for granted every day. That is truly amazing."

Blair's heart went out to him; it had to be humiliating for a man as proud as Ellison seemed to be. He'd had a chance to look through some of Jim's records, they showed him to be a fiercely independent man with an impressive success rate in both the military and the police department.

There was a great deal of his military career that was classified, even to the SGR. Stuff that the Pentagon had deemed too sensitive for anyone to see. Blair couldn't help but wonder what he had done and how it would affect the development of his sentinel abilities.

Blair reached out and touched Jim's shoulder. "I know this is hard for you but there is nothing to be done except learn how to control your senses. The sooner you do that, the sooner your life can return to some semblance of normal."

As Jim nodded in understanding, Blair looked around and saw they were starting to draw attention to themselves. "Say, Jim, why don't we move this discussion inside, where prying eyes can't see us."

Jim reached under the fender for the spare key to the truck. He opened the door and reached under the seat and pulled out a .38 special revolver, which he tucked inside the robe he was still wearing. Then lead the way into the building, glaring at Blair when he attempted comment about the gun. Taking the elevator to the third floor, Jim walked to #307.

He paused at the door, his head tilted in a listening position.

"Do you hear something, Jim?" Blair asked, placing his hand on Jim's shoulder.

"There's someone inside." Jim said, pulling the revolver out. "Stay behind me." He shouldered the door open in one try, scanning the living room and kitchen with trained efficiency. "This is the police! You are trespassing in a private residence, come out with your hands where I can see them."

"Jimmy?" A familiar, uncertain voice called from the upstairs bedroom.

Jim stared in shock when Carolyn Plummer came into view, nearly dropping his gun on the floor. "Oh, Jimmy, thank god." she said as she ran down the stairs and threw her arms around him.

"Hey, Carol, it's okay," Jim replied, stiffly returning her embrace. She had never been big on physical shows of affection, especially when others were present, and this sudden switch was a little disconcerting.

She pulled away slightly to search his face. "Simon told me the SGR had you in custody. How did you get out?"

A polite clearing of his throat alerted Carolyn to Blair's presence. "Carolyn, this is Dr. Blair Sandburg, from the SGR." Jim explained. "Blair, this is Lt. Carolyn Plummer, my fiance`. She works in the technical support section of the P.D."

Blair's eyebrows rose in surprise. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Plummer. Jim failed to mention that he was engaged."

Carolyn's eyes raked him up and down with blatant disapproval. "I take it you're here returning Jim to his life, since this whole business about him having SES is nonsense."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Plummer, but it is true," Blair said evenly. "He has all five senses heightened beyond that of normal humans."

"Then what is he doing here?" She demanded. "Everyone knows the SGR doesn't let unbonded sentinels loose, even with an escort."

"That is quite true," Blair confirmed. "Even more so for someone with Sentinel Emergence Syndrom. It is rather serendipitous that Jim and I have formed a level one bonding so quickly. Otherwise he would still be there."

"You and Jim?" Carolyn's eyes sparked with anger as she turned to her fiance`, her eyes taking in his attire. "You'll forgive me if I don't find this arrangement at all comforting."

"Carol, it's okay," Jim gently pried her off of him, her perfume was beginning to make him feel light headed. "He is helping me. I'm still getting used my senses."

"If you say so, Jimmy," she said. After another glance at Blair she decided to try to continue as on as normal. "Since you're here could we talk about the guest list? I know you said you wanted something small and intimate, but I have so many friends and family that want to be there that-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute." Jim raised his hands in a stopping motion. "We talked about this weeks ago. You know how I feel and I already let you invite more people than I'm comfortable with."

"I know, but I figured a few more wouldn't hurt, I mean the new hall can hold a lot more people." Carolyn smiled brightly. "Besides, I don't know why you don't have more people on your side of the guest list. This is a time to celebrate with our family and friends."

Jim glances toward Blair where he was standing at the balcony, he had stepped away discretely when the conversation began, though it was obvious he was still listening in. Jim didn't like discussing this with company around. "You know why my list is the size it is." Jim hissed softly, his temper had been volatile ever since the stakeout and he couldn't seem to control it at the moment. "I also thought we agreed to a small reception and a small church. You know I don't like big crowds, and you know I don't like being shown off like some prize stud."

"Jim there is no reason to be upset." Carolyn widened her eyes in surprise at his obvious discomfort. "I just made a few additions to the list, that's all. Besides the flower arrangements Mom suggested looked so much better in the bigger hall."

"Well you can just uninvited them." Jim ground out. "And make arrangements to get the smaller hall back, because I'll be damned if I'm going to be paying for that convention center ball room."

That got Blair's attention. "Um, I hate to interrupt, but when is the big day?"

Both Jim and Carolyn turned to glare at him. Carolyn angry at the sudden interruption, Jim just generally pissed at the world. "In three weeks," she replied testily.

Blair shook his head. "No way. I can't allow that."

"What do you mean you can't allow that?" Carolyn demanded, her skin reddening with emotion.

"Jim needs at least that much time for training in the basics of sense control and learning to trust his guide. A large social event is the last thing he needs any time soon. In fact it is inherently dangerous for him to be in a large gathering of people."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, becoming concerned and more ticked off when Jim didn't second her protest.

"Would you like your future husband to zone out during your marriage vows or how about during your first night of wedded bliss? It has happened before you know."

"I don't have to listen to this crap," she snapped.

"Yes you do." Blair replied, feeling his own ire rising. "That is, if you want to be married to a sentinel."

"What are you talking about now?" she demanded getting into his face.

"You'll have to be constantly aware of what he's eating, how much perfume you put on, what kind of soap you buy, what is in the foods you're going to eat." Blair ticked off the points on his fingers. "And that's just to start."

"That's a guide's job." Carolyn said dismissively.

"So, you'll be willing to cohabitate with a guide?" Blair asked in honest surprise.

"What? No!" Carolyn shouted in horror at the thought.

"Well that's what you'll have to do if you don't want to take precautions. A sentinel and guide don't have to live together in order to function properly, but if they don't the spouse must act as a surrogate guide. The health of the sentinel depends on it." Blair asserted. "If you can't handle that idea, then you better call off this wedding now, because you'll just be causing unneeded grief for everyone."

Jim walked away from them and out onto the balcony. He didn't want to listen as the two halves of his life collided. Leaning against the railing, he let his mind drift to the jungle where his mentor had gifted him with kind words and gentle touches. Where the heat and humidity would rise until the rains fell every afternoon. He didn't want this conflict in his life.

If not for his senses coming back online, he would be happily in the final preparations for his wedding.

That brought him up short. 'No that was just stupid. They wouldn't just show up suddenly to keep me form getting married. Or could they?' He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

"Just who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that?" Carolyn's voice rose over the din of the sounds of the city.

With a sigh, Jim turned back, deciding it was time to end this. "That's enough both of you!"

They turned, stunned by Jim's sudden interruption. "Blair, give it a rest. You're not going to convince her of anything. Carolyn, just stop it. You're not listening to a word either of us are saying."

"Do us both a favor and cancel everything. You know this isn't going to work the way things are now." Jim said tiredly. "Maybe when I get a handle on this, we can make it work again."

Carolyn looked devastated. "You never loved me, did you."

"Oh for god sake, Carolyn." Jim groaned, exasperated. "Don't pull that emotional black mail bullshit with me, not now. I've had a really shitty day."

She slapped him with enough force to send him reeling back then fled the apartment. Blair grabbed Jim's shoulder to steady him, and they both stood together in an awkward silence.

"That could have gone better." Blair muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"You think?" Jim glared at him.

Blair had the decency to wince at the harsh tone. "Look, why don't I, um, put my stuff in the spare room?"

"You do that, Chief. I'll be upstairs. Don't even think of going up there, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Blair replied.

As he unpacked his things, Blair surveyed the accommodations. A small day bed set on the far wall, a small desk next to a set of french doors, and a bookcase that was already half full. Not much space for someone used to a huge office at Rainier. Though the loft was larger than his own apartment.

He thought over once again the reasons he agreed to let Ellison go home now, after so little time, and nearly no training. Most Sentinels were discovered early in life. Those with more than two heightened senses were sent to special schools to help them learn to harness their abilities and to prepare those with five heightened senses for the reality of working and living with a guide.

Sentinels that have their senses emerge after puberty were rare. Adults that have full blown SES were virtually unheard of. Blair's research had found only six in the past twenty years and of those only three had been able to successfully adapt to the strictures that were imposed on them by society.

Everything he'd learned told him that it was best to allow Jim to keep as much of his life intact as possible. While some things just weren't possible at the moment, others, like having the security of living in one's own home, might help.

"Yeah, we're really on the right track so far," Blair muttered sarcastically. "I just ruined his marriage plans. Nice way to endear myself to him."

He flopped down on the bed and stretched out wearily. Things could be worse, not by much mind you, but they could be. Now all they had to do was learn to work with each other, then either Jim would find another guide to bond with or they would achieve a level two bonding.

Jim changed into a pair of faded black jeans and a black turtle neck sweater before descending the stairs back into the living room. He opened his senses and found Sandburg still in the spare room, from his breathing he sounded like he was asleep.

He went into the kitchen tracking a vile smelling odor; he wrinkled his nose as he neared the garbage can. Trying hard not to breath, he quickly tied the offending bag up and put it out in the hallway.

Opening the fridge he saw that it was cleaned of anything that had been perishable, which explained the garbage in the can. He thanked Carolyn silently, knowing that she had to have been the one to do this. She was the only person that had a spare key to the loft.

"Hey, Sandburg."

He couldn't help but grin when he heard the professor jump in surprise. "Yeah, Jim?"

"We need to make a run to the store. There's nothing to eat in here except a few boxes of instant oatmeal and some frozen peas."

"Okay, well give me a list of stuff we need and I'll go get it." Blair said, straightening his clothes.

"When I said we I meant both of us going shopping, Chief." Jim replied with a glare.

"Hey, you're too unstable still, man. You could zone out or have some allergic reaction to any number of things in a supermarket."

"I'm not going to freak out, I'm just going to the store." Jim was really starting to loose his patients with this man. "I'm not some helpless invalid. Now grab your wallet and lets hit the road before I get cranky from hunger."

"Jim, I really think-"

"The train is leaving, Sandburg," Jim said, grabbing his jacket and opened the door. "Are you on it or does it leave without you?"

Knowing he had lost this round, Blair grabbed his keys and followed quickly. It only took a few minutes to drive to the Super Fresh market. There were few patrons this time of day, for which Blair was grateful.

They grabbed a cart and made their way through the different sections, starting with the bakery. By the time they were ready to head to the checkout the cart was brimming with items. To Blair's surprise, they had encountered no problems in the store until they passed the detergent isle. Which Blair pushed Jim away from and sent him on to the next.

Jim stopped short in the middle of the last isle; he tilted his head to one side to listen to something. It took only a moment for Blair to realize what he was doing, and placed his hand at the small of Jim's back to anchor him.

"What's going on?" Blair asked in a sub-vocal tone.

Jim glanced at him in alarm. "The store if being robbed. Two... No three men, armed with at least one rifle."

"Oh man," Blair's chest tightened anxiously. "What can we do?"

"First, call 911 and report it, then we'll see about dealing with it." Jim said.

Nodding, Blair pulled out his cell and dialed quickly. The moment it was picked up, Jim grabbed the line and spoke to the operator. "This is Det. Ellison, there is a robbery in progress in the Stop and Go on 8th street."

Suddenly there were several sharp popping sounds and screams of frightened people. Jim grabbed Blair and pulled him down to hide behind a neatly stacked display of baked beans.

"Shots fired. Get some units here before someone gets killed damn it."

Jim paused as he divided his attention between the robbers and the operator. "Because I'm in the damned store, that's how I know."

Blair clutched at him, not sure what to do, only knowing that they were both in danger. Every bit of his training told him that he had to get them away. Jim was still unstable, anything could happen; this wouldn't have even been an issue if he had followed procedure.

But there was the other part of him, the natural guide, whose instincts were far stronger than his training. It told him that his sentinel was more than a match for what was just around the corner.

Jim closed the phone and grimaced. "I want you to stay put, Sandburg. I'm going to try and see if there is a way to take them out."

"No, Jim, let me come with you. I don't want you over focusing." Blair pleaded softly.

For a moment, their eyes met, and Blair knew there was something different about Jim. Something he had never seen in any other Sentinel in all his years as a part of the SGR. Then it was gone, and Blair doubted that he'd even seen it. Jim nodded and signaled to follow him.

Jim lead the way to the rear of the store, as he pulled the .38 from its ankle holster. Blair searched for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. He grinned as they passed the small toy section and saw an aluminum bat.

He carefully lifted it from the shelf display and tested the weight. Jim glanced at him curiously, then nodded in approval. After a few moments of examining the other toys, Jim grabbed a cheap skate board. They moved to the next isle, only one more and they would be able to see the robbers.

Jim placed the skateboard on the floor and gave it a hard shove, then pulled them both out of sight. Blair mouthed, 'What are you doing?'

'Watch,' he mouthed back.

The skateboard rolls down the isle and out the other side, it's wheels make all sorts of noise as it goes. There is a moment of silence, then the criminals start fighting with each other loud enough to be heard from their position.

"Tony, just shut the fuck up and go check the back of the store."

"For Christ sake Martin, get a grip! I'm goin',( semi colon) just stop waving that thing at me."

"Just leave it guys. We've gotta split before the cops get here," said a third voice. From the sound of squeaky sneakers heading down the isle, it was obvious the last man was ignored.

Jim waited until the gunman was almost on top of them before making his move. Then moving almost faster than Blair could see, Jim grabbed him from the side, shoving his pistol into the guys neck. "Make a sound and you're dead, got it?"

The gunman nodded, eyes huge saucers of fear. Blair took the gun from his trembling hands and shoved it into the back of his jeans. Jim smiled and pulled out a roll of duct tape from the display next to them and used it to secure him tight. The gunman couldn't have been any older than sixteen.

"Tony! Hey, Tony! What the hell are you doing back there?"

More foot steps approach while Jim is still securing 'Tony'. Blair spun with the bat in his hands and slammed second robber in the face as he turned the corner, the pimple faced felon went down like a ton of bricks.

"Well, that's two. Good work, Sandburg."

"One left to go," Blair grimaced.

"These clowns are idiots," Jim replied. "But the last one is gonna be a bitch. He already sounds twitchy and since he has the rifle, we've got to be careful."

"Jeff? Tony? God damn it, Who ever you are back there, you better come out now or I swear I'll start blowing people away. You hear me?"

"Shit, what now?" Blair asked.

"Now the cops arrive, tie this jerk up. I'm going to take a look." Jim slipped away down one of the isles.

"Stubborn sentinel." Blair muttered as he did what he was told.

Jim could see the last gunman, Martin. Shuffling between the windows and looking down the isles he was in line with. He was sweating profusely and his hands trembled like he was coming down off something.

Flashing lights and sirens signaled the arrival of Cascade's finest, a half dozen cars rolled up and officers took cover behind their cars. Jim heard the reassuring voice of Captain Banks talking through a bullhorn. "This is the Cascade P.D.. throw down your weapons and exit the building."

Martin leveled his rifle at the window, the tinting on the glass makes it hard for people outside to see in. In addition, there were half a dozen advertised special flyers covering them. It took only a moment for Jim to realize that this guy didn't plan on giving up without a fight.

Jim focused down the site of his gun, his sight narrowed until he was totally focused on the gunman's hand. The world narrowed until all he knew was the barrel of his own gun, and the distance between himself and the target. The hand on the rifle tightened and Jim pulled the trigger on his .38 revolver. Part of his mind followed the bullet, even though it was moving faster than the human eye should be able to track.

The impact was like a physical blow, he flinched as all his other senses reacted in protest. He felt them spiraling out of control, he was bombarded with the millions of odors and bright colors that were always present in a supermarket, taking his consciousness with them.

Then a touch at his shoulder, warm, gentle, and oddly familiar pulled him back from the edge. A soft voice calmed his twitching nerves and a delightful scent that warmed his soul.

"That's it, Jim just relax, don't tense up. Listen to my voice and you'll be fine," Blair whispered.

Jim opened his eyes, having only just realized that they were closed, and looked up at the man next to him. "Thanks, Blair." He touched Blair's cheek with the back of his hand. "My guide."

"Yes." Blair replied with a soft smile, surprise in his eyes.

"Ellison?! My god, what the hell are you doing here?" Both men turned to see Captain Banks storming into the crime scene. In the time that it had taken for Blair to talk Jim back, the wounded gunman had been captured and hauled away.

"Shopping, Sir," Jim replied climbing to his feet slowly. "Captain I want you to meet Blair Sandburg, my guide."

Simon gaped at the two of them for a moment before regain his composure. "Sandburg, as in Professor Sandburg?"

"Yes, Sir," Blair replied holding out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Simon took the offered hand and shook it with a grip strong enough to make the professor wince slightly. "So I guess Jim will be able to come back to work sooner than I was lead to expect."

Blair ignored the pain in his hand as he shook his head. "Jim may be able to return to active duty in a few weeks, but no sooner. He has zoned out twice in less than twenty-four hours, and we've barely bonded. He is far from ready for active duty."

"But from what I see here-" Simon began.

"What you see here is one extremely lucky sentinel and amateur hour for his guide. I've violated more SGR mandated procedures in this one afternoon than I ever want to think about." Blair pushed his hair away from his face.

"We were just shopping, Simon," Jim clarified. "Those yahoos decided to pull off a daytime heist of a grocery story. We were the only people not caught in the center of the store. I just acted on the opportunities as they arose."

Blair watched as Jim easily explained the events that occurred, giving his report to Captain Banks as if this sort of thing happened to him everyday. Maybe it did. Blair had no real concept of what police work was like. He knew what everyone knew, the police motto to 'serve and protect'. He never thought about it beyond that, except for the times when his mother would tell him stories of her days as an anti-war protester.

To Naomi, the police were 'the pigs', an entity whose soul purpose was to keep all the 'good citizens' towing the line. Anyone that was a free spirit or had an alternative style of living would be hauled away to spend a night in a cage.

Growing up, Blair never understood why anyone would want to be a police officer. As a trainer of guides and sentinels that might enter the police force, he had learned that some people were drawn to law enforcement due to a need to protect those they loved. As a guide himself, he knew that there was a fierce instinct to do whatever was necessary to protect his sentinel.

The adrenalin high that he had been on was finally coming down, making him more tired than he thought possible. Blair didn't know if he could handle being the guide to a cop, if this is what he would expect on a regular basis.

A touch at his shoulder brought him out of his introspection. He looked up to see Jim standing inches away with eyes full of concern. "Are you okay there, Chief?"

"I'm good," Blair assured him, patting Jim's hand. "Just tired."

"I think we've both had a long day. Why don't we see if we can get our stuff and go home." Jim suggested.

"Okay, Jim. I'll let the two of you go for now." Simon agreed. "But I want the both of you in my office tomorrow before noon to fill out a full report. Understood?"

"Understood, Sir." Jim replied tersely. Draping his arm across Blair's shoulders he steered him back toward their shopping cart.

Blair was awoken the next morning by the insistent sound of his cell phone ringing. Confused and disoriented, he stumbled off the daybed in search it. He finally found the offending piece of electronics under the jeans he had been wearing the previous day. "Sandburg," he answered, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Blair, its Dr. Chang. Sorry to wake you, but I was wondering how Sentinel Ellison was doing."

"No big deal," Blair mumbled sleepily. "I needed to get up anyway. I have to go into the police station to file a report."

"Oh Lordy, Blair. Don't tell me you were in that robbery yesterday." Serena sounded torn between concern and laughter.

"You would think that a simple trip to the store would be uneventful." Blair groused good naturedly. "Actually aside for being scared out of my mind, it wasn't so bad."

"How did he handle his senses? Any problems?" Serena asked.

Blair glanced up at the stairs to Jim's bedroom for a moment. "You know, last night I was writing down my observations and I gotta tell you Ellison has incredible control for someone with SES. It's almost as if he has already had training."

"Are you sure?" Serena asked. "I've been checking his medical records, and there is nothing that indicates anything other than a full repression."

"I don't know," Blair sighed. "There are some military documents that are sealed. I'm not authorized for anything past Secret and Jim's files are Ultra Secret."

"Well, try to document as much as you can. Maybe you should ask Jim about it as well, he may have some answers." Serena offered.

"I don't think he'll be willing to do that. It's like pulling teeth to get any information from him as it is. This would be going over the line I think."

"What would, Chief?" Jim asked from directly behind him.

Blair spun around with a yelp. "Jim! Don't sneak up on people like that. Gees, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Blair? Are you okay?" Serena called over the phone.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Blair said quickly, glaring at Jim. "Listen I'll give you a call after we get back from the police department."

"So what are you and the good doctor conspiring about, Sandburg?" Jim asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"It's nothing really," Blair said trying to act nonchalant. However the implacable visage before him wasn't buying it.

"Okay, okay. I keep wondering how you could handle your senses like you did at the store with so little training."

Jim shrugged. "Maybe I'm a natural."

"Yes, you're a natural sentinel," Blair agreed. "But that doesn't take into account the control you demonstrated yesterday. There is no precedent for someone with SES to gain control that quickly."

"What do you want for breakfast?" Jim asked heading for the kitchen.

"Well since you insisted on all those eggs and bacon, I guess we'll be having that." Blair groused lightly.

"What would you rather have?" Jim asked. "Bran flakes?"

"I have an algae shake every other morning," Blair replied. "It's full of energy and much more healthy than that stuff."

"And tastes like wallpaper paste no doubt." Jim shook his head as he pulled out a couple of frying pans.

"You don't know what you're missing man."

"Thanks, I'd rather stay ignorant." Jim set several strips of thick sliced bacon on the heating frying pan.

Blair started the coffee pot going, his eyes constantly drifting over to Jim's broad bathrobe covered back. "Did you have any problems sleeping?"

"I slept a hell of a lot better here than I did in that damned cell." Jim said. "Even though 'someone' was snoring all night."

"Hey, man, I do not snore." Blair said defensively. "You can ask any of my old girlfriends."

Jim snorted. "Thanks but I'd rather not know about the lusty adventures of the academic set."

"What do you want to know about?" Blair asked tentatively. "I mean, if we're going to be partners we're going to have to get to know each other."

Jim was silent for several minutes thinking as he dished out breakfast for the both of them and set it on the table. "Okay, tell me why someone so young has a full position as a professor in the SGR?"

"I'm not that young." Blair replied.

"You're what? Twenty-three at the most?" Jim asked. "I only had a bachelors degree and was in the army for a year by that age."

"I'm twenty-five, I started college at sixteen. I'd been in the accelerated learning programs since I was ten."

"Child protg I take it?" Jim smiled.

"Yeah, it sucked that I had to leave my mom though." Blair sighed. "We were all set to go down to Sedona, Arizona for a spiritual retreat when my scores came back."

"What do you mean you left your mother?" Jim asked.

"Well I couldn't go to school and go with her, so it was a choice I made." Blair shrugged.

"Are you telling me your mother left you on your own at the age of ten to go to some retreat?" Jim was aghast.

"It wasn't like that," Blair replied defensively.

"What about your father? Did he stay with you?"

"Well, no, I don't even know who my father is. Besides what has that got to do with anything, Naomi finished her time at the retreat and then we were back together."

Jim held his peace, it was obvious Blair didn't think there was anything wrong with his mother going off somewhere when he was only ten. There wasn't really any point in trying to explain at the moment.

"I had a great time growing up. Always seeing new things and going to new places during the summer months. What was it like when you where growing up?"

Jim grimaced. "Look we have to get over to the P.D. to make out those reports, you wanna quit gabbing and finish eating?"

Blair looked down at his plate to hide his surprise at the harsh diversionary response. While Jim's father had seemed reluctant to discuss his wife, he had obviously left a great more deal information out than Blair had first thought. For a moment he considered calling William Ellison to get more information, but thought better of it. Obviously the subject was quite painful for Jim; it would be better to get him to talk first rather that go behind his back.

"Let me hit the shower first and then I'll do the dishes." Blair offered, finishing up his breakfast.

"Be my guest." Jim motioned for him to proceed, his expression still grave.

Blair pulled the Corvair into the underground parking lot, and parked where Jim directed him to. The detective then slapped a parking ID card on the dashboard, where it could easily be seen and climbed out of the car.

The ride had been a silent affair, with Jim resentful of the sudden restrictions on his freedom and Blair respectfully keeping quiet, wanting nothing more than to comfort, but sensing it would only be seen as patronizing at the moment.

"Follow me, Chief," Jim said as he turned toward the entrance to the building.

They entered and walked to the main lobby, where Jim picked up a visitors pass for Blair. Blair couldn't help but notice the dozen or so uniformed officers blatantly staring at them as they headed for the elevator.

"What was up with that?" Blair asked as they road the lift to the seventh floor.

Jim sighed and leaned back against the wall. "There are only half a dozen sentinel-guide pairs in the entire police force. The pairs almost always get the promotions first, due to their much better performance records. A lot of beat cops can be resentful."

"That's not right," Blair muttered.

"You think so? Well just imagine what its like for other members of the department. Normal cops wait years for a chance to get into the ranks of Homicide or Major Crime, but because of budget constraints, if a Sentinel/Guide pair is promoted, it's counted as two promotions into a squad. Normal cops don't have heightened senses to help them solve cases, and bring up their solve case percentages. Plus there is the little thing about no fraternizing with fellow officers. Bonded pairs are exempt from that rule, for obvious reasons, but it makes for bad feelings."

"But it's not their fault, bonded pairs are special; they can't be separated." Blair insisted. "There should be no comparison."

"Chief, that's the thing." Jim clasped his hands together and pointed his index fingers at his guide. "In an ideal world there wouldn't be, but people are human. To most people, sentinels and guides are nothing more than a curiosity that they read about in the papers. Here in the police department all those misconceptions are confronted by the real thing. To narrow minded people, we're nothing more than freaks that are getting preferential treatment."

They stepped out onto the sixth floor and walked in to the Major Crime bullpen. "So how will this affect your life here?" Blair asked. "I mean are you going to be ostracized or what?"

Jim shrugged. "As long as I do my job, who cares?" He nodded to Rhonda, the captain's secretary and waited for her to get the go-ahead from Banks. Knocking twice before opening the door, Jim ushered Blair into the office and shut the door behind them.

"Jim, good to see you and Dr. Sandburg here so promptly," Simon said with a hint of a smile.

"I wanted to get this over with, Simon," Jim replied, sitting down in one of the chairs facing the desk and motioning Blair to do the same.

Simon set the reports to the side and pulled off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "To be honest Jim I wanted you both here for another reason."

"Oh?" Jim was fully alert in an instant, any hint of comradery between himself and his captain disappeared.

"Take it easy Jim I just needed to talk to you both about some things," Simon replied, he looked from Blair to Jim waiting to make sure they were both listening.

"I checked the policy for bonded Sentinels and Guides yesterday, to see how to deal with this. We have a small problem."

"What kind of problem?" Blair asked leaning forward.

"There is no set policy on detectives that come down with SES," Simon replied, placing his glasses back on. "And this year's budget didn't take into account the addition of any new personnel."

"Isn't that a little short sighted, Captain?" Blair asked.

"I don't know what you know about budget constraints, Mr. Sandburg. But here in the real world we have a limited amount of money that the city puts aside for things like salaries and equipment. And lately its been stretched pretty thin."

"What are you saying, Simon?" Jim sat forward, his expression carefully neutral.

"I don't have the money to pay the added wages of a bonded pair. When you are given the green light to return to work, you may have to transfer to another department," Simon stated. "And as tight as money is this year, you may have to go to a totally different precinct."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me, Simon." Jim sank back into his seat. "This whole thing just keeps getting worse and worse."

Blair watched Jim with growing concern, the detective had taken several blows to his self image in less than a week. To lose his position in Major Crime would just add to it. It didn't help matters that Captain Banks was making disparaging remarks about the man who quite likely was going to be Jim's partner for life.

"I think I may have a solution for your budget problem, Captain," Blair said sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "I am a fully tenured professor at Rainier's SGR department. There are times when we are allowed to take paid leave. Also as an unbonded guide, when I bond I am allowed immediate leave to adjust to the changes to my life and the life of my sentinel. All of this time I have mentioned is paid by my department, and will not be an added financial burden to your unit."

"That is all well and good, Professor," Simon replied. "But there is a great deal about police work I don't think you understand. Bonded pairs here are always both trained for their field of work, there is no precedent for allowing you, a civilian, access to this department."

"Simon, look, I'm going to need him as my guide, you know that. I know he's not a cop, but can't we give him a consultant's clearance?" Jim asked. He had grown attached to his position here, after the six months of hell he'd gone through in Vice, he liked the precise methods used in Major Crime. He didn't want to end up backsliding just because of a technicality.

"I don't like it," Simon admitted. "If something were to happen because I allowed an unqualified civilian into a dangerous situation the Chief, the Mayor, and the press would be all over my ass."

"Oh come on Simon," Jim stood suddenly his eyes flashing. "I don't see a reason not to be totally up front about the situation. Tell the Chief of Police the truth, hell, tell the Mayor, I don't care. What I care about is that I need him."

Simon let out a defeated sigh. "All right, Professor Sandburg, I'll sign off on a consultant status for you as soon as the SGR gives Ellison the green light to return to work. However, you are no more than an observer in the crime scenes except when dealing with his senses. You will not carry a gun and you will not participate in evidence gathering, is that understood?"

"Understood, Captain Banks." Blair replied evenly and stood. "If there is nothing else, I'd like to have my statement taken now."

Simon motioned for him to leave, "Detective Brown will take it. He's waiting at his desk." Blair did his best not to storm out of the office, not liking the way he was dismissed so easily. Jim stood to follow, the beginnings of a headache forming at the base of his skull. "Jim, wait a moment. I'd like to talk to you in private."

Jim sat back down, a quick glance out the window told him Blair was being assisted by Brown. "Well?" He asked his captain expectantly.

"Would you like some coffee?" Simon offered. When Jim refused with a shake of his head, he decided to plunge ahead. "Carolyn told me about what happened."

Jim groaned and rubbed his hands across his face. "Well, that's just great. I'm sure the entire department thinks that I'm some castrated freak that can't think for himself anymore."

"We have to have some sort of recourse here, Jim. That hippy-wanna-be can't just take over your life like this." Simon said heatedly.

"He isn't that bad, Simon." Jim replied. "In fact he's got a good head on his shoulders. He didn't balk when it got dicey yesterday while he helped me control my senses."

"What, are you saying you like this guy?"

"I'm saying that you're awfully quick to jump all over the 'hate Sandburg' band wagon," Jim replied.

Simon grimaced. "Maybe I was a little harsh, but look at what happened already. He's moved into your apartment, canceled your wedding, hell he probably even told you what you could eat for breakfast this morning."

"I'm not even going to dignify the last two with an answer, Simon. But as for the first one; if he hadn't I'd still be in SGR lock down."

"I'm sorry, Jim. It's just that I always thought that you and Carolyn were a good match." Simon admitted. "It burns me up to see the two of you break up over this."

"Maybe it just wasn't meant to be." Jim stood. "Look, I need to write up my report before the headache I'm getting threatens to split my skull in two."

Simon stood as well, coming around the desk he placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just all the sounds and smells in here, especially your cigars. No offence." Jim replied. "I'm just not used to them anymore."

"Take care of yourself. I'll talk to the Chief about your situation."

"I will, Simon." Jim strode out of the office and sat at his desk to fill out the report.

The next two hours where possibly the most aggravating time in Jim's life. While sentinel's weren't uncommon in the work place, a known detective suddenly becoming one was a novelty. People from all over the building were finding excuses to make the trip up to the 6th floor, for a quick look at the new sentinel.

When Officer Bentley from down in evidence lock-up ( a man that never left that room except for bathroom breaks), walked by for a quick glance Jim lost it.

He stood quickly, shoving his chair back hard enough for it to topple over. The resulting crash caught everyone's attention. "That's it, go ahead, get a look at the freak show." Jim snarled. Each time he locked with someone's eyes they would quickly look away. "That's right, take a good look."

"Jim." Simon called as stepped out of his office. "Calm down."

"I don't think you get it, Captain." Jim rounded on him. "They don't care that I've worked along side them for two years. All they care about is their own sick curiosity."

Blair was at his side in an instant, his hand touching Jim's forearm. "It's okay, Jim. Let's just go back to your place. We can finish the reports there."

Looking down into his guide's eyes, Jim could feel the anger lessen somewhat. "I just want to be treated with the respect I had always been given."

"I know," Blair whispered. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"This is disgusting," A voice said from in the hallway. "Big bad Ranger Jim, can't take a little attention, so his keeper has to come and pet his head and make him all happy again."

Jim spun, eyes narrow with feral anger. He zeroed in on the man who spoke. He was a short, stocky man of Italian decent, he wore a slightly rumpled Armani suit and smoked menthol cigarettes. "Marconi, why don't you go back into that hole you crawled out of in Robbery and stay there."

"What and miss the chance of seen the Ellison on a leash. No way, this is too much fun." He sneered, each breath sent a small amount of menthol flavored smoke wafting in the air. "Although it looks like your keeper has some assets that might make captivity enjoyable."

Blair, already pissed at the treatment Jim was receiving by the insensitive jerks in the room, seethed at the sullying the most sacred part of a Sentinel/Guide bond. The detectives derogatory words made tawdry the most beautiful expression of the trust and love that could emerge from their partnership.

"That's enough! Everyone get back to work." Simon barked, trying to defuse the situation as fellow cops and office workers moved away from the three men.

"Get out of here Marconi, before I call your captain and let him deal with you."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm gone Captain Banks." He raised his hands in surrender. "Just keep the dog and pony show off my floor."

Jim saw red and surged toward Marconi, hell bent on taking the man's head off. "No!" Blair yelled, trying to pull his sentinel back physically. He couldn't hold him for long, Jim was just too well built. Fortunately, his delaying grip, gave the other nearby detectives time to lend a hand. Marconi laughed as he stepped into the elevator and headed to his department.

"Let me go!" Jim snarled. "I'll rip his fucking lungs out."

"Jim please, calm down." Detective Rafe said into his ear. He was holding the enraged sentinel under the arms, trying desperately to hold onto him. "Marconi is an ass hole pure and simple. Just let it go."

Blair also spoke softly, trying to calm himself as well. Unfortunately he had seen enough today to confirm fears that he'd thought were just an exaggeration in his mind. When he saw that Jim wasn't going to go after Marconi he rounded on the unsuspecting Captain Banks

"Is the way the police always deal with sentinels and guides?" he demanded. "If I ask around will I find this kind of harassment indicative of the reception all bonded pairs receive?"

"There is always a minor level of hazing that goes on when new people join a department." Simon returned with a moment of hesitation. "That doesn't mean they were harassed."

"So it doesn't bother you that Jim was just treated like a bug in a bell jar by half this building's staff." Blair glared. "I thought the police were given lessons on how to treat sentinels with respect?"

"We treat all officers equally here." Simon asserted.

"From what I've seen today, you have a very strange view of what equality means." Blair shot back. He was inches away from Banks, having to crane his neck to lock eyes with the six foot, seven inch tall man, refusing to allow Banks' size to intimidate him.

"Now you listen here-" Simon grabbed Blair by the shoulder only to have his hand roughly removed by one very pissed off sentinel.

"Don't touch him." Jim voice was very quiet and very deadly.

Simon had never seen Jim use his strength against a fellow officer before and today he had seen it twice. He knew Jim was always careful how he used the skills he had learned in the Army, and for the first time, he wasn't sure of Jim would pull his punches if he was further provoked.

"That's right, Captain, use your superior size and strength against someone that looks weaker than you to get your point across. That's real civilized of you and a wonderful example to your men." Blair folded his arms across his chest lifting his chin defiantly. "Do you think I haven't seen that before? Do you think I don't see this whole display as the prejudice that it is? I saw enough to last a life time just because my name is Sandburg. I had thought that after nearly a hundred years of service, sentinels and guides would have gained the right not to be seen as side show freaks."

"As a member of the SGR's teaching staff and a bonded guide," Blair continued, ignoring the captain's sudden ashen complexion. "I find the behavior in this building to be reprehensible. If this is the behavior of 'Cascades finest' then I shudder to think how bonded pairs are treated in other areas."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think Detective Ellison and I have better things to do than take this kind of shit from his coworkers." Blair glanced over at Jim hoping for confirmation. Jim nodded and grabbed the nearly finished report from his desk, then they both strode out of the bullpen and took the stairs down to the parking garage.

The entire bullpen was dead silent for a full minute. No one had ever seen anyone stand toe to toe with Captain Banks before on any issue and come out the winner. Sandburg had done so and then, some not only cowing the man, but he set doubt into the minds of everyone present as to the integrity and honor of their own people.

Rafe returned to his desk and sat down thinking hard about what he had just seen. It was considered rude to stare at someone with a disability, yet plenty of people stared at bonded pairs every day, not even thinking about how it felt to them. The hazings(hazing) that sometimes occurred were supposedly harmless fun. Yet he doubted any of them ever thought about the harm some of those pranks might have caused.

Marconi's comments about the 'dog and pony show' were an in-joke in the P.D., often said on the quiet when a pair would be working. It was derogatory at best, yet it was accepted because people were uncomfortable around them. It was never said around SGR representatives, who occasionally made sure the environment was safe for normal work. No one, except perhaps Simon, had known that Sandburg was anything more than just a guide. There was little chance that there would be no fall-out from this day's events.

Brown sat down at the desk next to him, shuffling papers absently. "Did you know Sandburg is a full Professor at Rainier?" he asked quietly. "He has been for the last year and a half."

Rafe stared at his partner. "Oh shit."

"Yeah. Oh, shit."

Jim monitored Blair closely as they made their way down to the parking garage. His breathing was rapid and he was sweating and shaking profusely, the level of agitation was like nothing Jim had seen before in the normally good natured(good-natured) man.

At the car, Blair fumbled with the keys until Jim gently plucked them from his hand. "Hey, Chief, let me take us home."

"You can't drive." Blair snapped reaching for the keys.

Jim kept them out of reach and replied. "Neither can you in the state you're in at the moment. Come on, I'll treat you to lunch, and then you can drive the rest of the way home."

Blair's shoulders slumped and he nodded in agreement. "Lead the way."

The climbed into the Corvair, Jim taking the driver's seat. He waited until Blair was also seated before adjusting the bench seat back a few inches to give his longer legs room. He then pulled out and headed for his favorite place to eat.

"You know, technically you're breaking the law." Blair pointed out sullenly, as they pulled out onto the road.

"So I'll arrest myself later. Right now, all I want is a nice meal without ending up wrapped around a telephone pole."

After driving for a few miles, Jim pulled into a fast food place with a giant 'W' on the marquee. Blair didn't even notice where they were until they stepped into the building. "Wonderburger? You brought me to a Wonderburger?"

"They make the best stuff here, just the kind of stress relieving food that'll make you forget your worries," Jim said grinning.

"Yeah, you forget because you're more interested in trying not to die form hardening of the arteries." Blair replied, but allowed himself to be dragged forward. He liked to indulge in junk food as much as the next person, he just didn't as often as most.

They ordered their food and sat down in a semi-private corner booth. Blair watching in fascination as Jim arranged his food 'just so' and prepared to eat, then he opened his own wrapped burger and fries.

"You were something in there, Blair." Jim said quietly. "I've gotta say I was impressed. Not many people can make Simon speechless like you did."

Blair flushed slightly as he lowered his burger back down to the table. "I've never been so angry in my life." He admitted. "All the time I was working at Rainier, I never saw behavior like I did in the three hours we were there."

"It's not always like that, Chief," Jim grimaced.

"God, I should hope not." Blair said in exasperation. "I had to deal with that kinda stuff when I was little just because I'm of Jewish decent. I also had some harassment when I started college at sixteen, but that... was unforgivable."

"Why are you so surprised to see prejudice toward sentinels in the work place?"

"I don't know." Blair sighed, pulling his hair out if it's tie-back. "I guess I always looked at the SGR as a haven free of that sort of behavior. I guess I buried myself so deep into my studies I didn't notice the things around me."

"I was in college myself," Jim said. "I also remember being quite aware of what was going on around me."

"Yeah, well I bet you didn't have my work load." Blair grinned. "I had double majors when I started college, Guide studies and Anthropology. I added a minor in psychology after my second year, so my plate was pretty full."

When I got my masters in anthropology, I focused all my studies into the SGRP, I received my doctorate for my work in that field."

"So you decided to become a teacher?" Jim asked.

"Not at first." Blair admitted. "There had been several sentinels who were also studying anthrop. I was hoping that I might get a chance to bond with one of them, but none of them clicked with me at all."

Blair looked Jim over in an appraising way for a moment while the older man was distracted by a screaming child on the other side of the dining area. Jim had a lean frame but had a great deal of well defined muscle on those bones. His dark brown hair just a little longer than a buzz cut, which left him with a slightly fuzzy appearance rather than a severe military one.

Ellison was the epitome of Aristocratic beauty, with the kind of strong features you might expect on a Roman centurion. Yet Blair had also seen how vulnerable this man was in the few days they had known each other. Maybe it was that dichotomy that attracted him so much. He suddenly realized that Jim was looking back at him and he ducked his head, becoming very interested in the food in front of him.

"You know," Jim said in a low voice. "It is okay to look. I'm not going to take your head off or anything."

Blair lifted his head in surprise but his answer was cut off by an unexpected interruption.

"Hey, Blair!" A jovial voice called from his left. Both he and Jim turned to see Colin McLean coming toward them.

Blair smiled at his fellow teacher and stood to greet him with handshake. "Colin, fancy meeting you here. I thought you were on that vegetarian kick."

Colin rolled his eyes. "That lasted just long enough for Sherry to take offence at my flatulence."

"TMI, man," Blair grinned. "That's way more information than I needed."

"So what are you doing here, Blair? I thought you were babysitting your new sentinel." He asked, giving Blair a playful nudge.

Jim cleared his throat at that moment and stood as well, beating Colin's 5'11" stature by several inches. Blair couldn't help but wince at the low level annoyance in Jim's eyes. "Colin McClaine, meet Jim Ellison." As Colin shook Jim's hand Blair added, "My sentinel."

Colin froze in place and paled slightly. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean anything by what I just said. I hope I didn't offend you."

"I'd normally say no," Jim replied smoothly, keeping Colin's hand in an iron grip. "But I've been having a bad day so far and you're just adding to it." With a final hard squeeze he released his hand and sat back down to eat the rest of his lunch.

Colin shook his painful hand and gave Jim a wary glance before turning his attention back to Blair. "Anyway, I just wanted to see how everything was going. I was talking to Jack over in the social science wing and he said that if you need any information, that you shouldn't hesitate to call him."

Blair looked at him in confusion for a moment. "Oh! No, that's okay." Blair looked over to Jim and sighed. "Listen Colin, if you don't mind I'd rather just ask Jim about his past. Asking Jack to use his old CIA contacts to dig up stuff is not my idea of a good time."

Colin looked panicked at his total lack of subtlety. "Geez, Blair, just broadcast it why don't you?"

Jim's low chuckle caught their attention. "Hey, junior spyman, best not to go searching through my files. You'll set off flags in quite a few very important places and trust me, they would be very interested in people that try to look at my past. You wouldn't like the fall out."

"Well, um, it was nice seeing you Blair." He stammered. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you when the next term starts." Blair promised. He watched Colin escape before sitting down across from Jim again. "Did you have to scare the poor guy like that?"

"You might want to take that advice to heart, Chief." Jim said slurping on his soda. "I was in some pretty ugly stuff during my time in the Army, stuff that is still officially classified. You could go to jail if you were caught trying to access them."

"Do I look like the kinda guy that would try to break into government files?" Blair asked, his expression the epitome of innocence.

"Yes." Jim dead panned then smiled at Blair's disconcerted look.

"I can see I've got my work cut out for me here." Blair shook his head laughing.

"Actually, I think we're getting along pretty well, all things considered," Jim replied.

"Yeah, we get along fine. We just have to get past the small problem that I'm not a cop." Blair sighed.

"Hey, Chief, look at me." Jim said softly. Blair raised his eyes and saw only concern in the bright blue depths. "What would have happened if you hadn't come over to help me when Dr. Chang called?"

"You would have stayed in that catatonic zone out until either you came out on your own, which wasn't likely, or your body gave out and you died," Blair replied softly.

"Then don't go beating yourself up over your educational choices when you're talking about our partnership. You saved my life and regardless of whether your fellow scholars over at Rainier think we're compatible, I don't see any reason why we can't make this thing work."

He knew he was staring at Jim, but he couldn't help it. There had been little to no indication that the sentinel was even considering making their bond a more permanent situation. "Thank you, Jim. That means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it," Jim shrugged. "Hell, you and Dr. Chang were the only people that treated me like I was human in that hole."

Jim gathered up the remnants of their lunch and dumped them in the trash while Blair digested that last comment. He then handed Blair back his keys and gestured for him to proceed out of the restaurant.

"You know I believe you, Jim." Blair began. "But I'm still trying to work my head around the idea that anyone working for the SGR would treat a sentinel so poorly."

"I've had a lot of changes in my life over the years, Sandburg," Jim said as they pulled out and headed down the road, leading back home. "And I've learned one thing, no matter what people are supposed to be doing, no matter how well intentioned something is supposed to be, there is always someone who is going to try to use their position for personal gain."

"That's a pretty dark view of humanity, Jim."

"Just speaking from personal experience," Jim replied, staring out the side window.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blair asked, sensing an opening.

Jim pursed his lips thoughtfully as he leaned back against the seat. "While I was in the Army, I was part of a task force in Peru, our job was to help the local government fight against the drug lords that were trying to take control of the region."

"Something happened to you down there?" Blair glanced over, seeing the tension in Jim's face, he wondered if getting him to talk was such a good idea.

"My unit was under orders to start a malitia in the jungle, my commanding officer was Colonel Oliver. I didn't know it at the time, but he was in with the drug lords, he was the major figure in a pipeline that sold drugs American soldiers."

"Because we were going into the area that his people were trying to take over, he gave my crew bad intelligence and we were ambushed when we headed to our drop zone. My crew was killed when the chopper was shot down." Jim closed his eyes trying not to see the bodies of his dead friends, all burned and broken.

Jim didn't say any more, his eyes were distant and sad. Blair glanced at him every few minutes to make sure he hadn't zoned out. When they returned to the loft, Jim collapsed onto the couch feeling more weary than he had in years.

"I'm sorry about your men, Jim." Blair said finally. "It must have been hard for you."

"It wouldn't have been so terrible, I think, if they had all died at once. Wallenchek and Saris lingered for two days after the crash, with the medical packs destroyed in the crash, there wasn't anything I could do for them." Jim showed no outward sign of distress save for his obviously clenched jaws.

Blair closed his eyes in sympathy, to have to watch your friends die like was too horrible to contemplate. "How long before you were rescued?"

A sardonic smile crossed the sentinels face. "The area was crawling with insurgents, the brass decided that it wasn't worth risking another team until the area was stabilized. We were listed as MIA and presumed dead, I didn't see another English speaking person for eighteen months."

"They just left you out there?" Blair was incredulous. "That's terrible, how were you found?"

"A satellite picked up signs of the crash and the graves I had dug for my men, they sent a new team out to assess the situation, since the region had stabilized,"

Jim replied. "I was picked up and brought back to civilization. End of story."

Blair nodded absently, not believing for a second that the story was that cut and dry. "Can I ask how you survived all that time?"

Jim smiled. "I can't tell you everything, most of it is still classified. I can tell you that I was taken in by a local tribe called the Chopec."

"The shaman of the tribe helped me deal with my grief, and taught me their language. With the help of the warriors of the tribe I was able to continue my mission. We held the our ground against the insurgents until no one attempted to enter the area anymore."

"I can't imagine what it must have been like for you." Blair said, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Did you ever have any problems with your senses in the jungle?"

Blair watched as Jim thought about his question, his brown wrinkled with concentration. Suddenly Jim's features went slack and his eyes glazed over, his body relaxed completely and he slumped back onto the couch.

"Jim!" Blair scrambled up to his feet and over to his friend. Placing his hands on either side of Jim's head he softly called to him. "Jim, you need to come back to me. What ever it was, just pull away from it and come back."

It took nearly five minuted of talking to bring him back from wherever he had gone. Finally, Jim blinked awake, staring up into Blair's eyes in confusion. The professor had climbed into his lap and was gently petting his hair, nearly in tears with relief. "What's going on, Chief?"

"You zoned, big time." Blair replied. "I can't even begin to think what caused it."

Jim stared at him in surprise. "I did? I don't remember anything after telling you about the Chopec."

"That is weird." Blair chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "We need to figure out what caused it."

"Later, okay?" Jim raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. "I'm tired and I'd actually like to just relax. Maybe read a book or watch tv for a while. Do you mind?"

Blair was going to protest, his training as a guide emphasized a need to identify any anomalous behavior in his sentinel, but he decided to let it go for now. Jim had already had a long day, and putting him through a series of tests would just make it worse. Blair headed to his room to log the incident into his journals, then work on his lesson plans for the next year.

Blair also made discrete enquires into any incidences of abusive attitudes towards sentinels in the work place. He already had a few reports back from the Washington state area, that left him rather concerned. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with the information, but he kept it all organized.

Tonight was the monthly meeting of the local SGR council. It was there that sentinels were evaluated for their readiness to join the work force with their guides. Blair would be presenting Jim before them, knowing that if he didn't get Ellison back on the streets doing his job, the man would begin to lose his self-confidence. Jim had shown remarkable control, and was more than ready for the challenge.

Jim on the other hand, was less than receptive to the idea of going to the meeting. The idea of 'performing like a trained seal', in his words, was not his idea of a good time, and only increased the perception that sentinels where no better than pets.

Having thought over Jim's argument, Blair had to admit that he agreed with his friend. This however didn't mean that Jim could get out of it, it was a requirement set out in the rules of training that had been written almost a hundred years ago.

Blair's major concern seemed to be the lack of progress with their bond, true they had gotten to know each other better, but there seemed to be something inhibiting any deeper connection beyond friendship. The deepening of a bond to the second level was the sign that the match was working. Without it, there was reason to doubt compatibility and many first level bonded pairs broke up after a few months as a result.

Blair looked at himself in the mirror for the fifth time, trying to straighten the tie that seemed to have a mind of its own. "Jim, come on man, we have to get going or we're going to be late."

"I'm not going in this get-up, Sandburg." Jim yelled from his bedroom. "I don't care what the tradition demands. They can all just deal with it."

With a sigh, Blair left the bathroom and climbed the stairs into the loft bedroom. "Jim it's a Gi, not a party costume. You'd wear the same thing if you were at a martial arts competition."

"Maybe it slipped your notice, Darwin, but I will be the only one there wearing this thing. I'll look like a freak and feel like an idiot" Jim tossed the offending article at his guide. "I'm only agreeing to this sideshow so I can get back to work, don't expect me to be jumping the SGR hoops like those poor shmucks that don't know any better."

Blair flinched at Jim's reference to sentinels that had been in training since childhood, most of them believed that they were treated fairly, but then they'd never known the type of freedom as Jim had. Sentinels had most rights and privileges of the average citizen, except for certain exceptions. Jim resented those exceptions because, at the moment, they hampered him at every turn. And he was not shy about voicing his opinion on this situation.

"Look, just bring it with you okay?" Blair pleaded. "You can wear what you want there, but it's gonna look weird if you don't wear the traditional clothes into the council room."

Jim muttered under his breath, then grabbed the Gi off his bed and stuffed it into a small duffle bag. "Fine, but if I'm treated like a trained parrot, I'll leave and to hell with approval. I'll go live in the woods somewhere if I have to."

Blair would have rolled his eyes at the rather childish sounding statement, except that he could tell that Jim was quite serious. "I promise, no one will treat you badly."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Jim replied. "I've had first hand experience with the 'trained professionals' that work for the SGR, I have no wish to get acquainted with any more of them."

"Jim, I understand, honestly," Blair said as he pulled on his jacket. "Now let's go before we're late." With one last steely stare, Jim followed Blair out the door.

Blair drove them to Rainier University's SGR building, known as Hargrove Hall, and parked in his personal space. The campus was now in full swing for the spring session and they could see students were walking about heading for evening classes or headed for the dorms. The only cars this close to building were the SGR members waiting for Blair and Jim to arrive.

Jim stopped at the curb, his eyes locked on the very spot that he had tripped the first day he had been brought there, blindfolded and in a straight-jacket. Blair had walked on ahead to the door, he turned to see Jim hadn't followed him. "Jim, nothing will happen to you, I swear."

Jim looked up and grimaced. "Let's get this over with, Chief." He strode up to the door and yanked it open. Blair quickly jumped ahead of him inside, leading the way down the foyer to a large set of oak double doors.

"Are you sure you won't wear-?"

"Not a chance, Sandburg," Jim replied evenly.

"Okay, like I told you before, just let me do the talking for now, until you are directly addressed don't say anything." Blair instructed.

"And like I told you before, if I'm treated like I'm not in the room, you bet your ass I'm going to say something." Jim reminded his guide.

Blair closed his eyes for a moment as he placed his hands on the large brass door handles, saying a silent pray that things would work out well tonight, then opened the doors.

A large elevated dais, with an oak table along its length. Behind the table sat a dozen figures in semi-shadow, just enough to hide their features for the average person, not enough though for a sentinel. Jim turned up his sight to see the faces of his judges and had to clamp down on his self control to keep from reacting with disgust. Of those seated, half a dozen were members of the city government, two well known judges, the deputy mayor, and the chief of police. The others were prominent members of the business class, including two of his father's business associates.

There was something very gothic about the setting, Jim knew that these rituals had been created in the Victorian era, when appearance was everything. That didn't change the fact that he felt it betrayed the true rites of passage that the tribes must have used to test their sentinels. It took every ounce of self control Jim had not to roll his eyes at the spectacle before him. He couldn't help but wonder if this imagery actually intimidated anyone.

The tradition stated that Blair had to step forward and present his sentinel to the Elders of the city. Looking at those present, Jim doubted that any of them truly understood the responsibility of a tribal Elder. As he watched, Blair made a polite bow to those assembled. "Elders, I come before you with Jim Ellison, my sentinel. He has proven to my satisfaction, as a teacher at this fine university, that he has the necessary skill and emotional control to return to his job as a protector of the city of Cascade."

Though there was no talking amongst the elders, Jim could tell that Blair's words had come as a surprise. "Professor Sandburg," began Doug Warren, Chief of Police. "I had heard of your coming to Sentinel Ellison's aid after the unfortunate accident that occurred. I was not aware that you had planned to make this a permanent arrangement."

"Like hell that was an accident." Jim growled, causing a low murmur amongst the elders.

"Jim!" Blair hissed in warning. "My sentinel is correct, it was not an accident. He had been deliberately attacked. As for our bond, it is up to him whether the bond continues to strengthen or falters and dies." Blair turned a critical eye to the men and women looking down at him. "Am I to understand that the council does not approve of our bond?"

One of the men Jim remember as a business rival of his father's, Bud Torrens, President of Cyclops Oil, spoke. "It isn't a matter of approval, but one of practicality. Dr. Sandburg, you are a valuable member of the SGR teaching staff, to lose you would be highly detrimental to the project."

"There is also the risk of your being injured. Police work isn't easy or safe." Warren pointed out.

"We understand that," Blair said calmly. "That is why Jim has been instructing me on police procedures and self defense."

"We appreciate your efforts-"

"Excuse me," Jim broke in. "I may be new to this little song and dance, but since when does proving my ability to work involve a half hour political debate? He is willing to work with me, I'm willing to work with him and that is all that should matter to you."

"Sentinel Ellison, who your guide ultimately isn't up to you. We of this council must be sure that the best choices are made for the good of the city," Torrens said.

"Like hell it isn't," Jim replied stepping in front of his guide, his eyes blazing. "You may think this gathering of city power is important, but don't kid yourself into thinking you have any say in who gets to bond with whom."

"I believe we have strayed from the point," Dr. McCoy, Chief surgeon at Cascade General Hospital, said. "Professor Sandburg, has your sentinel learned how to control his senses?"

"In the short time that we have been bonded, I've witnessed Jim demonstrate remarkable control for someone who had suppressed their senses since childhood." Blair replied with confidence. "Yes, I believe he has gained control of his senses enough to return to work."

Dr. McCoy nodded. "Do you believe there is a chance you will reach the deeper levels of bonding with Ellison or should we search a guide one more suited to his needs."

Blair's complexion crimsoned slightly, glancing over at Jim who glared at the council. "I think you should keep your noses out of our personal lives and stick to the point. I can control my senses, I'm capable of returning to work and there is a crime wave going on in this city. If you haven't noticed, I'm needed back at my job. Now, will you give us the green light or is this meeting an enormous waste of everyone's time?"

"Jim!" Blair hissed. "Are you deliberately trying to piss them off?"

Frederick Slater, head of the local Masonic Temple chuckled. "Your case is well stated. I believe we have seen enough to reach a verdict. Please step outside while we discuss it amongst out selves."

Jim and Blair turned and left the room walking side by side. Jim tried to listen into the conversation, but someone activated a white noise generator.

"Damn, I can't hear what they're saying." Jim growled.

"Come on, Jim." Blair sighed. "Have a seat while we wait."

"I don't want to sit. I don't like my future being decided by a bunch of stuffed shirts." Jim said as he paced restlessly.

Blair sighed with exaggerated care. "This is the way it is done, man. Just relax, they'll decide in a few minutes and that will be that." Ten minutes later, they were asked back inside. Blair was more nervous than he let on, but he was confident that they wouldn't have any problems.

"We have had time to discuss this matter. We've also checked on the previous cases of Sentinel Emergence Syndrom before you arrived here," Dr. McCoy said. "I speak for the entire council when I give my full approval to Sentinel Ellison returning to his job as a detective in the police force. Professor Sandburg, I hope you know what you are getting into."

"I have some idea, Dr. McCoy." Blair replied with a tight smile.

"Sentinel Ellison, as you were a normal citizen before, you will now have most of the freedoms you lost returned to you. The only things you can not do is be on jury duty. Most other restricted behaviors are now allowable under your guide's supervision." The doctor paused before continuing. "I understand that you might find these precautions unsettling and invasive, but they are necessary for your protection and the protection of your guide."

Chief Warren said, "I'll contact your captain with your reinstatement tonight, you may return to duty tomorrow." Before Jim could utter the stinging reply on his tongue, a cell phone rang amongst those seated.

Bud Torrens looked sheepishly at his colleagues. "Sorry about that, I thought I had turned it off."

"We're done here," McCoy assured him. "Go ahead and answer it." Torrens smiled as he stood and stepped away from the table to answer the cell-phone.

"Come on, Jim," Blair said with a relieved smile. "Let's go home." Jim nodded and with a last glare at the assemblage he turned to follow him. A sharp exclamation from Torrens caused him to turn back, his hearing dialing up automatically.

"When did this happen?" Torrens asked. "Do the police have any suspects?... I want the best on this case. No, give the police your cooperation. I'll be there in a fifteen minutes."

"Jim what is it?" Blair asked, seeing him in a listening position.

"Torrens, the call he got, was some bad news." Jim replied.

"Professor Sandburg." Torrens called as he shut off his phone. "I know this is rather irregular, but I was wondering if I might garner the assistance of you and Sentinel Ellison this evening."

"What is the problem?" Blair asked.

"A member of Cyclops Oil's board has been found dead, the police are labeling it a murder. I was hoping that since you are both here you could conduct a search of the crime scene, perhaps give me some idea of who might have done this."

"I'm sorry sir," Jim said with a glare. "I'm a police detective, not a private investigator. Unless I'm assigned to the case, I'm not going to interfere with an on going investigation."

Torrens's eyes narrowed. "As a sentinel, you have certain obligations to the SGR, Ellison."

Jim took a step forward his entire body radiating hostility. "I am a sentinel, not a pet. You ever infer that I should have some loyalty beyond that of my guide, you'd better be prepared to deal with the consequences."

Torrens paled slightly, but held his ground. "And you had better remember that this council has the power to make it very hard for you to do any job."

Jim grinned in a predatory way. "You think that's a threat to me, Torrens? Then you have no idea who you are dealing with."

"Jim, let's go." Blair placed a hand on his shoulder, breaking the face off. He practically pulled his partner out of the room to stop anything else from happening.

Jim followed without protest walking briskly to the exit at Blair's side. His partner was uncharacteristically silent until the reached the Corvair. "Just what the hell were you doing in there?" Blair demanded, his eyes blazing with fury. "You could have destroyed your career like that."

"Lighten up, Chief." Jim rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I'm not going to act like I'm some sort of vassal to those stuffed shirts. If you are going to work with me, you're going to have to get used to it. Because as a cop, I can't let anything or anyone try to influence my judgment on an investigation."

"Well you didn't have to have a pissing contest with the man." Blair huffed. "Torrens is one of Rainier's major patrons. Without his money, a lot of good projects would suffer."

Jim settled into the passenger seat. "If I didn't make myself clear to them, right off the bat, I'd have to deal with all of them trying to influence me if I get assigned a case dealing with them."

"Still-" Blair began but Jim cut him off. "I think you've been dealing with the political side of things here for too long, Blair. You're forgetting something, sentinels protect the tribe, politics will always take a back seat to that, no matter who or what is involved."

Blair drove them back to the loft in silence. He was more angry than he could remember being in a long time, but it wasn't directed towards his sentinel. He was angry at himself, mostly because Jim was right. He had joined the SGR to become a guide and along the way, he hadn't noticed some of the basic teachings of the Sentinel/Guide had become skewed in favor of those with political power.

Jim never bowed to politicians while doing his job, which made it extraordinary that he had reached Detective Two rank so quickly in his career. Blair glanced over at the stoic visage next to him and wondered again exactly how much Jim was holding back. They were barely in the door of the apartment when the phone rang. Jim grabbed the hand-set from the wall phone in the kitchen.

"Ellison."

"Jim, it's Simon."

"Hey, Simon. I haven't heard from you in a while." There was no bitterness in his tone, just a statement of fact.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Listen, I just got the call that you are cleared for active duty. Everyone has full caseloads and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind starting back to work a bit early."

Jim glanced at Blair, who was taking off his jacket. "How early?"

"Would now be too early for you?" Simon's tone was hopeful.

"What do you have for us?" Jim asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

"We've got a body in the park," Simon said. "One of the top men in Cyclops Oil was killed. This has 'red ball' written all over it so I need someone with an open caseload to handle it."

"Understood, Sir. We'll be there in ten minutes." Jim hung up the phone and went straight to his bedroom. "Chief, don't get comfortable. We have a crime scene to get to."

Blair frozen in the place as he was about to toe off his shoes. "Already?" he asked incredulously.

"Everyone else has too much on their plates as it is. We're the next people up to bat, so we get the case." Jim said with a sardonic smile. "Don't forget your observer's pass."

"Right." Blair went to his room and grabbed the clip-on ID. "What's the case?"

"The same murder Torrens wanted us to check out for him." Jim's grin broadened.

Blair's eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh, man, this is gonna suck."

Jim shrugged. "We'll see what happens when we get there, come on. The body is at Memorial Park ."

"Lead on, MacDuff." Blair motioned for him to proceed.

"And this time, we use my truck." Jim grinned grabbing his keys from the small basket next to the door.

"Are you sure yo-"

"Sandburg, if you say one word about my getting behind the wheel not being a good idea, so help me..." Blair raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm just going to point out that it's safer for the guide to drive, since there is always a chance the sentinel could zone out while driving." Jim grimaced but refused to let Blair take the wheel. He took a great deal of pride in his vehicle and he wasn't going to let the teal pickup sit for one more minute.

It was bad for the tires, the engine and the suspension, not to mention he had a much wider field of view in the cab than in the Corvair. He climbed into the drivers seat and turned over the engine, carefully listening for any knocking or pinging that might signal a problem.

Glancing over at his partner he saw Blair seemed to be having a debate with himself. "Are you coming, Blair, or do are you just going to stand there all night?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Blair muttered as he climbed in and belted himself in. "Let's go, I'd like to sleep some time before tomorrow."

Cascade Memorial Park had been named for the many young men that had died in wars over the years. Several statues commemorating the dead could be found all across the park, some were bronze life-like sculptures, others were granite walls with names on them, there was even a park bench that had a plaque in memory of those that died in the Cold War.

All work stopped on a beat as Jim and Blair entered the crime scene then continued as if nothing had happened. The body was located near the World War Two fountain face down in the damp grass. Simon was already there, waiting for them.

"What have we got, Sir?" Jim asked.

"Down to business as usually." Simon shook his head. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Not likely to either, Sir." Jim smiled slightly.

"Okay, the victim was found about an hour ago by a passing patrol, looks like he was walking his dog when he was attacked."

Jim knelt down next to the body, pulling on a set of rubber gloves from his jacket pocket. "Any idea on the cause of death?"

Simon sorted. "You got me, we haven't moved the body yet to see if he there was any kind of wound in the front."

"Are the photographers done?" Sandburg asked, seeing the forensic team over by the van.

"Yeah, they're all done." The captain confirmed.

"Okay, Sandburg, give me a hand," Jim said. "I need to turn the body."

Blair paled instantly at the thought of touching a dead body. "Su-sure Jim." He grabbed the feet, thankful that he didn't have look at the dead man's face. His discomfort was completely forgotten when he heard his sentinel mutter a curse. "What's wrong?"

"I found the cause of death." Jim pointed to a six inch blow dart sticking out of the mans throat. "From the skin coloration I'd say it was probably curare. He was dead within minutes."

Blair bent down and examined the dart. "It looks authentic. From one of the tribes in Peru."

"You're right, it is authentic." Jim breathed. "It's from the Chopec, the tribe that took me."

Blair stared at his Sentinel for a long moment, he could see lines of pain and a distance in the bright blue eyes that only appeared when he thought of his time in the jungle.

"So we have a killer into Peruvian weapons." Blair guessed. "But what's the motive?"

"It's not robbery, his wallet is still with him," Detective Rafe said from nearby. He was holding the leash of the victim's dog.

Blair looked at the small dog as it whimpered for its master. "So what will happened to that little guy?"

Rafe looked down at the small white creature. "Animal control will have to take her until they find a next of kin willing to care for her."

"Chief, focus," Jim growled. "The victim, Walter Franklin, is our concern, not his dog."

Blair grimaced at the body again and swallowed hard. "Right, sorry Jim."

"The guy was packing," Detective Brown said as he entered the taped off area. "The tech team says the gun tested positive for powder so he got a shot off at who ever killed him."

"Thanks, Brown," Jim replied with a nod. He looked up to see a Dodge Viper pull behind the police vehicles. "Son of a... Henry, find out who that is and get them out of here. If they are anyone from Cyclops Oil, tell them to stay out of the way."

"You got it, Jim." Brown grinned, heading off. "I know that guy, Jim." Blair said, watching a tall blonde haired man climb out of the Viper. "Mitch Yeager. He's Torrens's head of security."

The threatening growl that rumbled up from Jim's chest startled everyone within hearing range, including Jim. Blair placed his hand against the small of Jim's back to calm him. Blair decided he needed to be distracted, so he softly talked Jim through all his senses in order to detect anything that might have been missed. He noticed Jim stiffen when they switched to scent. They finished their sweep of the crime scene and Blair took down notes on what Jim found and any potential avenues of investigation they might need to cover. Finally Jim signaled for the coroner to take away the body.

"Are you okay, Jim?" Blair asked.

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about." Jim replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Let's just get out of here, Chief." Jim said his complexion pale and drawn. "It's too late to find witnesses tonight. We'll get some sleep and start fresh in the morning."

"Aren't you going to talk to Yeager?" Blair asked, glancing over his shoulder at the man waiting impatiently by the crime scene tape.

Jim shrugged stiffly and headed over to the man. "I'm told you're a member of Cyclops Oil."

"I am, Mr. Torrens wants to make sure everything is handled properly."

Jim's jaw twitched as he held his temper. "Tell your boss this investigation will be handled as justly and fairly as any other case. No more, no less, understood?"

"I hear you, Sentinel Ellison," Yeager replied.

"Just remember that." Jim's smile was all teeth and malice. "Consider this a warning, I meet you again and there is so much as a trace of the cocaine I can smell on your clothes in your system, I'll hall you in for possession."

Yeager brushed his tie without thinking and turned and headed for his car.

"What the hell was that?" Blair asked.

"That was me, staking my territory." Jim replied still smiling, only this time it was in satisfaction. "The guy had been in contact with just enough cocaine for me to smell it. He'll stay away from that crap for a while. I gotta admit, these senses do come in handy."

"Can we go home now?" Blair asked dropping the subject. He had some questions he needed to ask Jim that weren't for the ears of others.

"We're going, Chief."

Once back at the loft, Blair watched at Jim went straight for the fridge to grab a beer. "You want to tell me about it?"

"About what?" Jim asked not looking at him as he walked across the room and out onto the balcony.

"Jim...," Blair sighed impatiently. "What was it that you sensed that made you lie to me?"

Jim flinched but didn't turn around. Blair shook his head and grabbed his own beer before joining his sentinel. "Come on, man. I'm your guide, what is it that you think you can't tell me?"

"You won't like it." Jim said, glancing at Blair.

"Just tell me." Blair ordered. "I'm going to find out anyway, so better come out with it now."

"You have to understand, I wasn't hiding anything from you." Jim looked directly into Blair's eyes. "I didn't remember, not consciously, until I saw the dart."

"Remember what?"

"You're not my first guide."

Blair rocked back on his heels in shock. "What?"

"When I was with the Chopec, my senses came back on line," Jim explained quickly. "The tribe's shaman saw what was happening and trained me how to use them."

"What?" Blair repeated in shock. The idea that Jim had already had training blew away half his theories about natural talent and cast a dark shadow on his own teaching abilities. "Why are you remembering now? What was so special about that dart?"

"The dart's markings showed that it was Chopec, but what I didn't say was that each tribe member has a special symbol that shows who made the dart and who it belong's to. The markings are Incacha's"

"Is he the shaman that guided you?" Blair felt bile rise in his throat when Jim nodded. His sentinel's first guide was here, in Cascade, thousands of miles from his home. To what purpose? Was he here to reclaim the sentinel and bring him back to Peru?

"Yes," Jim said softly. "I never thought I'd see him again."

For a terrifying moment Blair thought Jim had answered his unspoken question. "What do you think he is doing here in Cascade?"

"Why don't we ask him." Jim replied looking down at the street.

Blair followed his gaze and was shocked to see a man in native dress and body paint standing next to Jim's truck. Their eyes met for a moment and Blair was amazed to see a bright smile break across the painted face.

A few minutes later, Jim had escorted the Chopec shaman into the loft. Blair stood back a few feet, trying to decide how to react to this development.

Jim pulled Incacha into a tight hug, letting his senses feel the man that had been closer to him than a brother. The herbal scents in his hair, the paint and body oil that identified his first guide made him smile. He pulled back finally and looked into his teacher's eyes. //I've missed you, old friend.//

Incacha smiled softly. //And I you. Your senses have returned I see and you have found your guide as well.//

Jim glanced at Blair. //He doesn't know the ways as you do. White man's laws cloud his judgement.//

Nodding in understanding the shaman glanced around the apartment. //Your hut is large and quiet, as it should be in such a loud, smelly village.//

Jim's smile faded. //Why are you here, Incacha? Why have you left the quiet of the Chopec lands?//

Incacha's smile dropped away completely. //The people of the Great Eye have come to our land, they burn the trees and pull black poison from the earth. The land dies wherever they touch it. We have come to find their chief and stop them.//

Blair stepped forward. "What's going on Jim?"

Jim turned to his friend and translated what Incacha had said. "The Great Eye must be Cyclops Oil, their is no other company in the city with that symbol."

"Why did he kill that man?" Blair asked becoming more concerned.

Jim turned to as the question, Incacha's expression darkened. //I had a vison of the men that were killing the land, that man was only a servant, we were trying to make him take us to the chieftain.//

//What happened?//

//The man pulled a pistol and fired at Amani, he is injured, but not seriously. I killed the man to protect us.//

//I understand,// Jim replied, he glanced at Blair. //He's worried about you being here.//

Incacha nodded. //As well he should. I am he that guided you first and you have not completed your bond with him yet.//

When Jim said nothing to that, Incacha sighed in exasperation. //Have you no manners, Enquiri? Introduce us.//

Jim ducked his head briefly but did as he was told. //Incacha, this is Blair Sandburg.//

"Blair, this is Incacha, shaman of the Chopec."

Blair smiled tightly taking the extended hand briefly. "I'm pleased to meet you, Incacha."

Jim translated their greetings back and forth then turned to his former guide. //We have to talk, you and I.//

//I know what you want to ask.// Incacha looked sad. //It is my fault that you can't bond with him completely. The Army men insisted that you leave with them immediately, so I could not break the bond we share. All I was able to do was dampen your senses and hope you could find a guide before too long had passed."

//Will you break it now, so I can be with my true guide?// Jim asked carefully.

//Soon, but there is much we must do first,// the shaman replied. //I need your help to capture the chieftain of the Great Eye. His hut is large and he has many guards around him. Too many for our small band of warriors to handle alone."

Jim took a step back in surprise. //I can't do that. I'm a protector of this village.//

"Jim? What's going on?" Blair asked stepping up next to him.

Jim explained the last part of their conversation to him quickly. Blair stared at Jim. "He can't do that, tell him we have laws against taking people against their will." Blair continued on even as Jim translated. "If you truly have a case against them, you have to go to the authorities, they'll help put a stop to this."

Incacha became angry, his hazel eyes burned with anger. //My people are dying even as we speak. Our main river is poisoned, the animals flee at the slightest sound, the fruit trees have been bare this season. While none of our children have died of starvation yet, it is only a matter of time.//

He turned and glared at Jim. //Enquiri, you were taken into the tribe, wounded and half mad from your senses emerging from their long sleep. You would let this tribe destroy your family? Your loyalty is to those that love you, not some cruel powerful chieftain.//

"We are bound by the law." Blair insisted.

//Until the destruction of our land is stopped, there is no white man's law. There is no Chopec law. There is only justice, and we mean to have it.//

Jim felt as though his soul were bing(being) torn in two, he wanted desperately to help Incacha. Yet, he couldn't do as his friend asked, helping the warriors kidnap Torrens would destroy the life he had tried to build here in Cascade.

"What will happen if the Chopec managed to get Torrens back to the village?" Blair asked softly.

"He'll face the tribal Elders for judgment." Jim shrugged.

"What will they do to him?"

"For destroying their land? They'll probably kill him. The gods will demand it."

"What are you going to do?" Blair asked. "I mean, if you turn him in for the murder, the prison system will kill him."

Jim turned away from both men who looked at him with expectations he couldn't begin to fulfill. "I'm going to investigate Incacha's story. His tribe is on a protected preserve, if Cyclops Oil is on their land they are in violation of international law."

Blair glanced at Incacha, who was obviously waiting for an answer. "Listen, I actually have an old friend that works for Cyclops. She might be able to find out what is going on."

Jim nodded. "I've got some friends in the military that might be able to help as well."

Incacha couldn't understand what was being said, but he knew he had upset Enquiri by refusing to break the last threads of their bond at once. As a shaman he knew he should do it now, for the sake of the sentinel's health, but his people were in need. He couldn't release Enquiri yet, a few days was all that was required. Then he would release Enquiri into the care of his true guide and everything would be as it should.

Looking at Blair, Incacha could see potential for more than just being a guide. There was wisdom and knowledge within him that he didn't even know he had. If properly taught, this man could be a great shaman to his tribe, Incacha wished the man well.

The pair had begun a deep discussion, not taking their eyes off each other. Incacha took that moment to slip back out the door. His warriors would begin to worry if he didn't return soon. He was satisfied, for now, that Enquiri would fight for them, but he knew that his brother-in-spirit would have to do things his own way.

Jim turned to ask Incacha a question only to find him no longer in the apartment. "Where did he go?" he asked.

"Didn't you notice him leaving?" Blair asked incredulously.

"Excuse me if I was a little distracted." Jim growled. He extended his senses only to discover that the shaman was no longer anywhere in the building. "He's gone." With his heart in his throat, Jim moved to grab his coat. "I have to find him."

"Jim, wait. You don't have the slightest idea where to look for him." Blair reminded him. "Let me call Janet Myers and get things rolling on that end first."

Jim froze and lowered his head to his chest in resignation. "I know, you're right. I could spend all night looking for him and never find him. This city is too damn big for that."

It was nearly midnight when Jim finally crawled into bed. He had managed to get a hold of his Army Intelligence friend who was going to overnight express some satellite photos of Peru that should confirm Incacha's story. Blair was still on the phone talking to his friend Janet, who it seemed was from his days as environmental activists.

They had been talking for over an hour and there was no sigh that they were going to stop anytime soon. Who ever this woman was, it was obvious that Blair had either been involved with her or was highly attracted to her. The pheromones he could sense drifting off Blair's body were heavy with sexual intent.

Jim couldn't help but feel torn, on the one hand, Blair had every right to want some companionship. On the other hand, Sandburg was supposed to be his guide. They were bonded, if only at the most superficial levels, and had been for weeks. There should have been some movement toward a higher level of commitment, yet there hadn't been more than a passing interest form the professor so far.

Sleep finally claimed Jim and brought with it broken images of his two guides reaching out for him expecting him to be loyal for different reason. He wanted nothing more that to return to the simplicity of the jungle and leave the ignorance of the white man's world behind. As he stood between the two men, Incacha reached out, Jim saw blood on his hands. The blood was coming from a wound in his chest. Jim woke with a start, gasping for breath, shaking with the image of Incacha dying.

The next morning Jim and Blair dressed quickly and headed to the station, barely saying two words to each other the whole ride in. Finally Blair couldn't handle the silence anymore, asking the question that had been on his mind all morning. "Are you going to tell the Captain about the Chopec?"

Jim didn't answer immediately, as he pulled into his parking spot in the garage. "Not unless I have to. I trust him to make good judgments on most cases, but I won't risk a city-wide manhunt for Incacha or the other warriors."

"If Simon finds out your withholding information...," Blair began.

"I'm not with-holding anything, I'm in the beginning stages of my investigation into the cause and reason a mans death. I'm not going to blithely arrest someone who had obviously been defending himself. I want to know the truth, before I arrest anyone in this case."

Blair raised his hands in a defense at Jim's cold, angry words. "Okay, okay."

"And stop doing that, damn it. You look like I'm going to hit you or something." Jim glared at him for a moment longer and got out of the truck. Blair had to jog to keep up with his deliberately long strides as they entered the building together.

"You're not afraid of me, are you, Chief?" Jim asked glancing at Blair in the elevator, his hard expression softening into one of concern.

"Of course not, Jim." Blair smiled reassuringly.

"Then why so defensive?" Jim pushed.

"Maybe because I suddenly find out that I'm a second string player," Blair muttered, not realizing that he was speaking allowed.

Startled, Jim said nothing. He hadn't realized that Incacha's sudden appearance had upset Sandburg so much. A wave of frustration rose in him at the shaman, if Incacha had just broken their link, this wouldn't even be an issue.

At the same time he felt a level of shame for wanting to break the last threads of his connection with the shaman. Incacha had been more than just a teacher and guide. He had been the father that Jim had always wished he's had, the mentor that showed understanding where his own flesh and blood showed nothing but indifference or cruelty.

A part of him would always be a part of the jungle, but Jim knew that he couldn't go back there, even if Incacha asked him to. Though he doubted that the shaman would ask that of him, he had a suspicion that that was Sandburg's main concerned.

Jim pushed aside his concerns as they entered the elevator at the garage level and took it all the way up to the 6th floor, where Major Crime resided. There was nothing he could do about these things at the moment, aside from trying to discover if Incacha's claims were true. And to do that, he was going to have to use the current case to justify asking some rather pointed question.

The doors slid open to reveal the bullpen was bustling with activity. Jim and Blair entered the room for the first time as official partners, side by side. There was only the briefest pause in activity as Jim's coworkers greeted him and Blair. While everyone was friendly enough, Jim could sense nervousness in quite a few people, even as he was greeted with either a wave or a handshake.

Blair didn't need sentinel senses to feel the tension in the room grow as they settled into their seats at Jim's desk. He knew it would be hard for the other detectives to accept him for a while. As an anthropologist, Blair had had the opportunity to experience what it was like to be an untrusted outsider before. He knew it would take time, but as long as he didn't do anything to harm Jim or anyone else in the squad, there shouldn't be a problem.

"Looks like Alan came through for me," Jim said, grabbing a large manila envelope in the top of his desk. He ripped it open and pulled out a highly detailed satellite photograph of a large swath of green jungle.

Blair pulled on his glasses to look at it. "Is that the region you were shot down in?"

"The very one." Jim replied softly. He pointed out small areas that marked villages and traced a river that flowed through the center of map. He paused and focused his eyes on the minute details of the picture, magnifying them as he did. "Son of a bitch."

"What?" Blair asked, unable to see anything where Jim was pointing, even with his glasses on.

"There's a line cutting right through the middle of Chopec territory." Jim said. "A dirt road. And right here," he pointed to a single spot, "is a tanker truck, the sun is shining off the metal."

"Incacha was telling the truth then." Blair whispered. "We have to do something."

Jim raised his eyes from the photo to reply but was stopped by the sound of Captain Banks voice. "Ellison, Sandburg, my office!"

Blair raised his eyebrows questioningly at Jim, who winced at the bellow. "You'll get used to it. Simon could have been a drill sergeant with that voice." He grabbed the coroner's report and the notes they had so far on the case.

"I'm not sure I want to," Blair replied with a grimace.

"Have a seat gentlemen," Simon said as they entered the office and closed the door. "First of all, I just want to say I'm glad to have you back on the team Jim, the case loads have been heavy without you."

"Thank you, sir." Jim replied, not smiling. "It's good to be back."

Simon opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out several objects. "Before we get started, these are your new credentials, Jim. The ID card states that you're a sentinel and that Dr. Sandburg is your guide."

"Oh come on, Simon." Jim groaned in dismay, his initial good mood evaporating instantly.

"It's procedure, Jim. You know this as well as I do." Simon reminded him, though his voice softened slightly. "Sandburg, this is your ID, it lists you as Jim's Guide and an observer. You keep this with you at all times while working with Jim. No exceptions."

Simon waited until they both claimed and donned their IDs before continuing. "Remember Dr. Sandburg, you may be in charge of Sentinel Ellison, but Detective Ellison has final say on police matters."

Blair narrowed his eyes speculatively. "I see no problem with that."

"Good." Simon replied sharply. "Now that that's settled, what can you tell me about the case you're working on?"

"We've only got the preliminary report from the coroner," Jim said opening the folder. "Cause of death was paralysis from a concentrated dose of curare that coated the dart in the victim's neck."

"Curare?" Simon asked. "Isn't that a little exotic?"

"So is the weapon used," Blair commented, glancing at Jim. "The dart is from a primitive tribe that still lives in the jungles of Peru."

"Any witnesses?" Simon asked.

Jim shook his head. "Uniform Officers scoured the park for anyone that might have seen anything. Unfortunately, they've come up empty."

"Speculation on a motive?"

Jim sighed. "Nothing concrete, Sir. We're looking into any business connections Cyclops Oil might have in Peru."

"Because of a dart?" Simon asked incredulously.

"Not just any dart, Simon." Blair replied. "It's from a specific tribe, well made and obviously been used before. There may be some sort of political message the killer is trying to convey."

"And just how do you know some much about this?"

"I have a Masters degree in Anthropology," Blair stated. "I've studied some of the tribes in South America."

Simon pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I take it you agree with this theory, Jim."

"It's a place to start." Jim replied. "And I don't see any other avenues of investigations. It wasn't a robbery and there were no other signs of assault on the body."

"Okay, then. Get back to work both of you."

There was a message for Blair when they got back to their desk. "It's from Janet. I'd better call her."

Jim motioned for him to use the phone on the desk. "Just remember, this phone is for police work, I don't want any of your girl friends leaving messages."

Blair paused to stare at the sentinel, who was once again going over the satellite photograph. While it was true that he'd had a few dates in the time that they had started working together, Jim had never complained about it before. His guts did a flutter at the thought of Ellison finally showing a certain level of possessiveness toward his guide.

Blair dialed her office number a smile crossing his lips as he heard her answer the phone. "Hey, Janet. It's me, Blair."

"Hi, Blair." She replied happily. "I did some checking like you asked. According to our records, there was a huge survey done in Peru about five years ago, Cyclops found a huge oil deposit, but the main field is under a protected preserve."

"So what happened?" Blair asked, glancing over at Jim, who was obviously listening in.

"After they failed to persuade the government to give Cyclops a dispensation to drill, the company pulled most of it's people out. Deciding to look for easier fields to drill."

"You said most, who is left down there?" Blair read the question off a pad, as Jim jotted it down.

"Just some public relations people, trying to give the company a good reputation. No big deal. Why?"

"Don't tell her anything!" Jim whispered harshly. "The phone might be monitored."

Nodding, Blair continued to speak. "Just courious. Thanks for your help, Janet. I really appreciate it."

"We're still friends Blair. That won't change, I was glad to help," she replied.

"Hey, would you like to meet me for lunch? I know this great sushi place near the campus. It's where the old Mexican Food place used to be. The one on Puget Avenue."

"That sounds nice, I have lunch at 1PM. We can meet there then?" Janet said.

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

Jim grabbed his note pad from the desk. "We've got a few hours before we have to meet her. I want to head over to Cyclops and talk with Torrens."

"We haven't been here for more than an hour and we're hitting the streets already?" Blair asked incredulously.

"This case won't solve itself, Sandburg." Jim replied motioning for the younger man to precede him. "Unlike the University, most of our work is done on the streets, not in the library."

Blair stiffened. "I'll let you know that I've been on field studies in anthropology that covered most of the globe. So, don't assume I can't handle a little footwork, Ellison."

"I'm not saying that you can't. But you better learn that on this job there is a very small window of time in which a case can be solved quickly." Jim said. "You can't just leave the research for a week, because you get caught up in something more interesting." Jim stepped out of the elevator and headed for the truck. "In this line of work, the subjects you're studying are all suspects or witnesses. The more time goes by in an investigation the more likely it is that the culprit is going to get away."

"Hey, Jim, I get it. No need for the lecture." Blair replied. He was about to climb into the truck when a pair of men in uniforms from the SGRP approached them.

"Guide Sandburg?" The first man addressed him formally.

"Yes, I'm Sandburg. Is there some problem?" Blair glanced over at Jim who was watching the two guards warily.

"We received a report that your sentinel was acting erratically. We came to take him in for evaluation."

"Excuse me?" Blair was shocked. Jim's stance went from stiff and controlled to the loose posture of someone ready for a fight. "Let me see your orders."

"Sir, my orders were very specific." The guard produced a small air pistol, designed to fire darts filled with a mild tranquilizer. The shot would be more than enough to incapacitate a sentinel for an hour.

"I don't care. As a full member of the SGRP you had better give me more than your word that you have these orders. I want the proper forms in my hands before you even think about using that gun or by all that's sacred I'll have you up on charges so fast you'll be in the unemployment line before the day is out."

Blinking and taking a step back at the harsh tone, the two SGR guards tried to regroup. "Guide Sandburg, this is simply standard procedure for any complaint. We don't normally need to show paperwork."

"Well think again. You want Ellison to go anywhere, you had better produce the paperwork. Until then get out of our way." The guard handed over the papers, they had been signed by Torrens only a few hours ago. "This order is invalid. The man that signed it was no where near Sentinel at the time of this ellegeed insident. Tell Torrens he's going to need more than this sloppily created farse if he wants Ellison off this case." He crumpled the order and threw it at the hapless gaurds?

Jim climbed into the truck, quickly followed by Blair. They pulled out of the garage leaving the SGRP guards and several witnesses behind, gaping.

"Okay, Chief, what the hell was that about?" Jim demanded after they had driven about a mile in silence.

"I have no idea." Blair shook his head. "Why the hell would Torrens want you off the case? Why would those gaurds follow such vague orders in the first place?"

Jim shook his head. "Do you actually think those guys care? All they know is they got a report, that means they get to assert their authority over me or any other sentinel that is reported."

Blair felt a weight in his chest. "No, no way man. That can't be happening. We'd have reports of abuses if it was."

"And who would be doing the reporting, Sandburg?" Jim asked. "The same people that have been trained since they were children to obey any order given to them by those white and black clothed Nazis."

Blair shuddered at the reference. The SGRP uniforms were a two piece outfit, much like Army fatigues. White from the center on the chest out to the mid shoulder, and Black from mid-shoulder out. They were recognizable anywhere within the United States.

Most of the other countries had similar organizations to deal with sentinels, but only the US had such distinct uniforms. There was some talk recently of consolidating the many different organizations into one. All under the control of the United Nations. But there had yet to be a strong enough voice to convince the different countries that it was a workable idea.

"Jim I'm an SGRP professor. I've worked there for years. They are not Nazis."

"Right." Jim barked in disbelief. "Keep talking, Chief. I'm sure your students believe you."

The dead silence that fell over them was like a dense fog, creating a wall between them. Blair watched the road rush by, but didn't see any of it as he tried to understand what had just happened in the garage and how it was connected with Jim's ugly view of the SGRP.

He leaned over and turned on the radio for something to listen to, fumbling with the dial when the truck hit a larger bump on the road. Instaed(Instead) of his usual Classic Rock station, the radio was on a talk radio station. {{"-they're a blight on society. Immoral from the moment of birth. These so called Sentinels are nothing more than psychotics on leashes. And by law they are allowed to practice sodomy and bigamy. I've heard of instances of incest even statutory rape, all for the sake of a quote 'true bonded pair'. No one so much as blinks at the idea that a sentinel and guide pair get the same health insurance benefits(benefits) that a married couple gets. Give me a break people. Tell me what you think, give me a call at-}} Blair had been too stunned to turn it off immediately but now the sudden lack of sound was deafening. He looked up at Jim to see a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

The silence continued until they reached the office building that housed Cyclops Oil. It had been the tallest building in all of Cascade until just recently when the Wisconsin Tower had been completed. The metal and glass structure stood out against the more traditional masonry buildings in the area. It tapered at the top floors into a point, where several a radio station and a local television station paid to broadcast off its antenna.

A stained glass 'eye' was the center each side of the building, giving the impression that it was watching everything that happened in the city. Jim pulled into the parking garage, showing his identification at the gate.

"Sentinel Ellison, I need to see your Guide's identification before I can let you into the building."

"This is police investigation," Jim ground out. "Open the gate before I charge you with obstruction."

"Not without confirmation that your Guide is with you," the guard replied. "I have my orders."

Jim moved to leave the vehicle, his jaw clenching with barely controlled anger. "Easy, Jim." Blair said softly, as he extended his own identification for the guard. "I'm Guide Sandburg. Now open the gate."

"Of course Guide Sandburg. Mr. Torrens is expecting you." The guard said with a smile, his entire demeanor changing in the blink of an eye.

"Son of a--"

"Jim, calm down." Blair placed his hand on Jim's forearm. "I know, it sucks, but you're a Sentinel. No one expects you to go anywhere without a Guide and this is a major corporation, they have to be careful of things like corporate espionage."

"It's racist bullshit, Sandburg. The next thing you know, I won't be allowed to use the public toilets. They'll have 'sentinel-only' ones around the back of the buildings."

Blair winced inwardly. One of his colleagues had suggested the very same idea only a few months ago, but Colin had worded it in a way that made it sound like a good thing, a way to protect sentinels from the hazards of harsh chemicals.

"Come on, Sandburg. Let's get this interview done and over with." Jim practically growled as he parked rather violently.

"Right with you." Blair replied swiftly climbing out of the truck to follow Jim, who was striding briskly away.

The ride up the elevator was relatively uneventful, considering Jim was tight-lipped and tense the whole way up. At the 30th floor, the car stopped and opened to a plushly(plush) carpeted hallway and a secretary sitting behind a desk which was strategically placed in front of two large oak doors with brass accents.

The swarthy toned man behind the desk, who was buffing his nails to a high polish, looked up as they approached. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Ellison," Jim said. "This is my associate Dr. Sandburg. We're her to speak with Mr. Torrens."

"Ah, yes, Dr. Sandburg." He glanced at Jim's ID. "Mr. Torrens is expecting you and Sentinel Ellison. I'll let him know you have arrived. Please have a seat." He pointed to the plush couch at one side of the room.

Jim glared at the secretary for a long moment before Blair's less than subtle pull on his arm made him move.

"This is ridiculous." Jim muttered under his breath. "How the hell do any of the other sentinels in the police department get anything done? I've been treated like a thing since we left head quarters."

"Most of them are used to it." Blair replied softly. "It's standard procedure for the guide to head any kind of team work. Everyone knows that and they defer to me because I'm the guide of this team."

"Yeah, well, between their prejudice and your attitude, it's no wonder no one is talking to me." Jim replied heatedly, though his voice didn't rise at all.

"My attitude?" Blair was taken aback. "What's wrong with my attitude?"

"Dr. Sandburg, Mr. Torrens will see you both now." The secretary called, interrupting them.

"Thank you." Jim replied to the man, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he strode forward through the double doors.

Inside were several large paintings and a wet bar that were set to surround the large oak desk of Cyclops Oil's CEO. The wall to wall carpet was so thick that Jim left depressions every time he stepped. The lighting in the room was strong but not harsh, having been defused by expensive etched and frosted glass.

The detective could feel Blair's obvious appreciation for the conspicuous consumption, even as the anthropologist in him was affronted by the total waste of money. For his part, Jim ignored it all, simply acknowledging the room, and focused solely on the man they came to question.

"Welcome, gentleman." Torrens greeted them, standing up and offering his hand to Blair, who took it automatically. "Please, have a seat. I assume this is in regards to the investigation."

As Blair began to sit in one of the two over stuffed chairs in front of the desk he paused, suddenly realizing that Torrens hadn't offered his hand to Jim. He wondered if it was deliberate on Torrens' part or if it was just another ingrained behavior, something supposedly 'normal' people did every day.

Jim refused the offer of a seat, his temper frayed enough by the days events that sitting wasn't possible at the moment. "Our investigation has turned up a few interesting facts. The dart that killed your colleague was from a native tribe in Peru. I was wondering if you could shed some light on this for us."

Torrens did his best to look confused, but Jim could feel the man's body temperature rising as he spoke. "I'll tell you what I can, detective. Cyclops has a few interests in South America, we're doing oil field surveys and geological studies. Anywhere there is a potential field we send in a few people to gain the trust of the local." He smiled. "When they see us coming they just roll out that red grass mat."

Jim didn't react outwardly, but he seethed inside. "So there's been no trouble?"

"Well, we are a large company, there is always someone that is going to feel their being taken advantage of. Some toes are always getting stepped on, no matter what we do."

"I see," Jim replied. "You wouldn't happen to be able to give names to those few stepped on toes, would you, Mr. Torrens?"

"Not off hand, no," Torrens replied, his eyes flickered from Jim to Blair and back again. "I wasn't personally involved in that area."

That was a lie. Jim's senses pinged like radar on that fact. "You do understand that as a sentinel, my testimony as a lie detector is admissible as evidence? You should know that, as a member of the SGRP's local council."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that Sentinel Ellison. As you should be aware of the precarious position your career is in if the council were to revoke your clearance to work."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Torrens?" Jim asked, leaning over the desk. "Funny thing about threats, they never worked on me. In fact, they tend to make me work harder to find the truth. If you're with-holding information, you'll have more to worry about that just one sentinel. You'll be brought up on obstruction charges, which could make the running of this little enterprise very difficult for you."

Blair watched in amazement as one of the most powerful business men on the West Coast was stared down by his sentinel. "I have nothing left to add, Detective." Torrens said finally. "Now, I have a great deal of work I have to do."

Jim pulled his business card from his wallet. "If there is anything else you might want to add to your statement, I suggest you call me."

Blair followed Jim toward the door, almost bumping into him as he turned around again. "One more thing, Mr. Torrens. Don't make any plans to leave the city until after this investigation is over. It wouldn't look good for you."

Once they were in the elevator heading down, Blair shivered slightly from the adrenalin that had started pumping up in the office. He looked up at Jim to see a stoney(stony) expression. "Jim, I want to apologize."

"For what?" Jim asked glancing over at him.

Blair stepped into Jim's personal space and placed his hands on Jim's chest. "You were right. I just didn't realize it. I've never been a part of the daily life of a sentinel. I didn't know it was so..."

"Humiliating?" Jim offered, his expression softening slightly. "Yeah." Blair replied reluctantly. "No wonder your father tried to protect you as a child."

Jim shook his head. "My father never thought of anything but his own needs. Even his little attempt to 'rescue' me from the hospital was nothing more than his wanting to keep people from knowing he'd produced a less than perfect child."

"You really believe that?" Blair asked.

"Sometimes," Jim replied. "Most of the time I try not to think that far into my father's head. So, tell me about you and Janet."

Blair let the subject go, knowing that this was neither the time or the place to be discussing something as potentially volatile as Jim's family. "We met at a protest rally at Rainier. She was trying to organize the students into picketing the science building because they were expanding to include and hazardous substance research wing."

"Did the protest work?"
"Not really, we got attention focused on it, but all they did was change the plans so that it has a much high level of security than was in the original design."

Blair sighed. "We had a great time together, went to all sorts of protest rallies all over the state. One time we chained ourselves to redwood trees to protect them from a lumber company. We had a lot of common interests."

"Sounds like you liked her a lot." Jim commented, guiding the truck towards the University. "So, why aren't you two married and having kids?"

"We had a falling out." Blair's wistful smile fading.

"Over?"

"We had a disagreement about the SGRP. When I began full time studies for my Masters in Sentinel studies she wasn't too happy. She tried to convince me that I was on the wrong path, but I knew this was where I needed to go." Blair shrugged. "She claimed that the status of Sentinels was a hold over from the days when slavery was legal. We agreed to disagree and that was that."

Jim refused to comment on the historical parallels. Most people didn't understand what exactly was lost when someone was declared a sentinel. In some ways he wished that he had been found as a child, then he would have known the freedoms that normal citizens enjoyed.

Oblivious to his partner's dark thoughts, Blair directed them down Puget Avenue pointing out the restaurant as they drove past in search of a parking spot.

"We're a bit early, Chief." Jim commented. "Let's go find a nice spot to sit, somewhere that I can keep an eye out for tails."

The establishment was a quiet inside despite the bustle of the people on the streets. They seated themselves after Jim found a table in near the far wall, with a nearly unobstructed view of the front door. A light Japanese guitar solo played on the speakers, creating a sense of calm and tranquility.

"This isn't exactly the kind of place I'd expect so close to the campus." Jim commented, opening his menu.

Blair smiled. "What you think college students only want cold beer and cheese fries?"

"When I was in college, there was nothing but cold beer and cheese fries to eat in a five mile radius of Rainier." Jim replied, looking up at the door he narrowed his eyes. "I think your friend is here."

Blair spun quickly and grinned at seeing a tall leggy black woman, with kinky-curly hair that came down to just above her shoulders. She wore a snappy looking peach and white business suit with a knee high skirt. The fact that she was wearing flat shoes only accentuated her nearly six foot stature. She turned toward them and Blair waved to get her attention. With a subtle wave and a smile she briskly walked over to join them.

"Janet," Blair stood and gave her a hug. Jim stood as well, out of politeness.

"Blair," She sighed as she hugged him back. "It's good to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Too long." Blair replied. "Janet, I'd like you to meet Sentinel Jim Ellison."

"Ellison? Are you related to the Ellisons that owned EL Pharmaceuticals?" She asked.

"That was my family," Jim replied curtly shaking her hand.

She kept a hold on his hand for a long moment staring at him. "Is he treating you alright?"

"Oh for God's sake Janet." Blair sighed flopping back into his chair.

A tight smile graced Jim's lips. "Better than I expected, worse than I personally would like. All in all, I could have fared much worse."

"Blair neglected to tell me about you when he called." She said giving the professor a glare. "Though he did say he was working with the police."

They were interrupted when the waiter came and took their order cards. Janet quickly made her selection and gave her card as well. It wasn't until their drinks were brought over that they resumed talking.

"Okay, so tell me," Janet said after taking a sip of her tea. "Why did you invite me to lunch, and don't tell me it was because you missed me."

"You got me there, Jan." Blair admitted.

"Ms. Myers, your company may be involved in the illegal harvesting of the protected oil fields in the Lamentania Wildlife Preserve in Peru. We believe the death of you coworker was a direct result of his involvement in this operation." Jim was cold and professional.

"That's not possible." She denied. "I just talked to Torrens this morning about our international operations."

On cue, Blair reached into his backpack, pulling out the satellite photograph and a magnifying glass. "Look for yourself."

After looking carefully for several minutes, her eyes going wide with horror, she placed the photo on the table and slid it back to Blair. "Where did you get this?"

"I have a friend at the Pentagon," Jim replied. "Even now he is alerting the State Department on the evidence contained in there. What we want, what we need, is the paper trail. Only a member of the company could get what we need to stop this."

"I'm a trusted member of my field. A role model for the movement to bring environmentalism into the corporate level." Janet shook her head. "If this is true, they've been using me to hide their lies."

"I'm sorry, Janet." Blair said soothingly, taking her slightly trembling hand in his. It was then that he noticed the diamond engagement ring on her finger. "Are you going to be okay?"

"No, I'm not. Harold was so proud of the worked I'd done," She pulled her hand from Blair and played with the ring of a moment. "He's a member of the Clean Air Alliance... I'll find out what I can, Blair."

"Ms. Myers, I want you to be very careful. We're talking about millions of dollars, there is evidence that whoever is involved has already killed several members of the Chopec tribe down in Peru. There is no reason to think they'll hesitate in killing again to protect themselves."

"I'll be careful, Detective." She promised. "I'd better go."

"But you haven't eaten yet." Blair replied trying to get her to stay.

"I couldn't eat now anyway. Thank you both for letting me know about this. You'll hear from me soon." She stood and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table and left. Both Jim and Blair were silent while they ate their food which arrived a few minutes later.

Blair sat at the kitchen table working on his laptop computer. He had been there since they had returned home from the P.D. a few hours before, going over the latest responses he had received from his inquires.

The data he was getting back was starting to add up into some very ugly numbers. The general assessment from the replies was, that if something wasn't done soon, there could be a backlash. Though what form it would take, Blair had no idea.

"What are you working on, Chief?"

Blair jumped when Jim's hand touched his shoulder, and the sentinel quickly withdrew the touch, backing off out of Blair's personal space.

"Sorry, Jim. I'm just a little tense. The results from some questions I sent out to colleagues are rather startling."

"What kind of questions?" Jim asked heading to the refrigerator to get them both a beer.

Blair watched Jim as he explained the inquiries he'd made over the past two months. Jim was keeping his distance, deliberately staying out of his personal space, even to hand over the beer bottle.

"Sounds like the SGR has more problems than it is willing to admit." Jim commented leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, more than I ever thought was possible." Blair closed the laptop and shifted to face Jim directly. "You know, we've both had a hard day, you might be more comfortable if you sit down for a while."

Jim regarded him for a long moment, his emotions carefully masked with a blank expression. Seeing only earnest openness in Blair's eyes, he pushed away from the counter and settled in the chair next to him, but kept a good two feet between them. "What do you want from me, Blair?"

"What do you mean?" Blair asked, a little startled.

"I mean, you're confusing the hell out of me." Jim slumped in his seat. "I can't tell from one hour to the next how you are going to act around me. Sometimes you're like the best friend I ever had, other times I'm just this lab specimen that is really fascinating but you have no emotional attachment to. And then I get the feeling that you'd love to jump my bones, but half the time when I touch you, you jump out of you skin."

"I'm sorry," Blair replied. "I didn't realize..."

"Oh for Gods sake." Jim growled. "I don't want an apology. I want... Hell..."

Jim reached out and cradled Blair's head in his hands and brought their lips together in a hard, closed-mouth kiss. Blair stiffened initially, not expecting the intimate contact, but relaxed as the Jim's strong fingers massaged his scalp.

Blair leaned into the embrace eagerly, wrapping his arms around Jim's back, trying to get as much contact with him as possible. He liked Jim's lips, seeking entrance into the warm cavern and sighed with delight as it was granted.

Blair could feel Jim's rock hard erection through the layers of cloth between them, his own excitement grew from the knowledge that this was just the beginning. They ground against each other in an animalistic frenzy until Blair knocked Jim off balance and they fell onto the couch. Straddling his lover, Blair pulled away to gasp for air, to see Jim's lips bruised and swollen from kissing, his shirt partially opened and his hair mussed.

"You're the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." he said with a smile.

Jim didn't reply in words. He grabbed Blair's shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his hairy chest. Blair returned the favor, opening Jim's shirt the rest of the way, and smiled at the broad expanse of nearly hairless chest.

Leaning down, Blair licked Jim's right nipple until it hardened into a peek. Jim arched and gasped at the touch, gripping the sides of the couch in an attempt to not grab Blair by the hair.

Blair's journey to Jim's other nipple was interrupted by a sudden ringing of the phone. Both men groaned a foot at the sound. "Screw it, let the machine get it." Blair mumbled, trying to reclaim the mood.

"No. You'd better get it," Jim said reluctantly after the third ring. "It might be important."

Standing slowly, Blair adjusted himself into a less painful position before answering the phone. /This had better be good./ "Hello?"

"Blair, it's Janet. I found what you were looking for." Her voice was cold and bitter. "I have a meeting to go to, but if you can meet me soon, I can hand it over to you."

"Janet, are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." She replied. "Listen there is a chance that my actions were monitored, so if you could get here soon, I'd appreciate it."

Glancing at the wall clock, Blair said, "We'll be there in twenty minutes, just hang tight." Jim was already on his feet and adjusting his clothes when Blair hung up the phone. "You heard?"

"Yeah, lets get going." Jim replied with regret. "It'll take at least that long to get down town."

"We'll pick up where we left off when we get back," Blair promised.

Jim's expression was one of doubt and frustration.

Blair pulled the truck into the parking garage of Cyclops Oil just over a half an hour later. They had been held up by a car accident, which forced them to take an alternate route.

"There's Janet's car." Blair said, when he saw a white 69' Ford Mustang Convertible sitting alone in the far corner. "Wonder where she is."

"Stop the truck," Jim ordered. "Something isn't right here." He barely waited until Blair put the truck in neutral before climbing out.

"What is it?" Blair asked as Jim filtered through his senses.

"I smell blood." Jim replied. He pulled out his pistol and edged his way around the Mustang. He hung his head and lowered his gun at the sight before him. "Ah, damn." Janet Myers lay dead on the cold concrete floor, an arrow protruding out of her back.

"What's going on?" Blair asked trotting around the car to see. "Oh my god, Janet!" He bent to touch her, only to be hauled away by Jim's strong grip.

"Keep your hands off, Chief. You could destroy any evidence we have on the killer's identity.

Blair wrenched forcefully out the hold. "I think it's pretty obvious who did this, man," he spat. "What are you're old buddies just going to go around killing anyone involved in Cyclops Oil?"

Jim glared at Blair with fire in his eyes. "The Chopec maybe considered a primitive tribe, but they would never kill anyone in cold blood. Let alone an unarmed woman. It's against everything they believe in."

"Then who the hell did this?" Blair demanded.

"Look around you, Sandburg." Jim replied. "Do you see any evidence of the documents that Myers was going to hand to us?"

Blair paused, darting his eyes quickly around the ground and into the car. "No."

"And I can't detect any evidence that the Chopec were here any time in the past hour. Myers hasn't been dead very long either." Jim pointed out. "Who ever did this knew about the evidence she found and wanted to make sure the Chopec were blamed for her death."

Blair said nothing his eyes locked on Janet's still form. Finally with an angry sigh, Jim pulled out his cell phone and called it in.

It was nearly midnight when the forensic team finished with the crime scene. Captain Banks and the press arrived at almost the same time, leaving little hope that the latest crime against the mega-corporation wouldn't hit the papers.

"Captain Banks, this is the second death of an employee of Cyclops Oil in less than a week, is there a connection? Is there someone targeting them for a reason?" A reporter called out. Simon ignored the question and entered the crime scene, chomping on his unlit cigar with more strength than was necessary.

"Ellison, Sandburg!" He bellowed. "Would you two mind filling me in on this?"

"It's a long story, Sir." Jim replied.

"Well since I'm obviously not going to be getting any sleep any time soon you might as well start talking."

After Jim and Blair's explanation was finished Simon very carefully places his cigar on the ground, and snuffed it out. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me that there is a group of armed, primitive, men wandering around this city planning on kidnapping the CEO of a major corporation?" At Jim's nod Simon growled. "Why didn't you arrest this Intacha when he confessed to you in the first place!"

"His name is Incacha." Blair responded quietly. "And aside from the fact that placing a man like him in an American prison would likely kill him before he ever got to trial. Neither one of us thought it would a good idea, considering the larger picture."

"The larger picture being this illegal drilling he told you about?" Simon asked incredulously. "Need I remind you that you are a detective, investigating a murder. One which I'm getting calls from the Chief and the Mayors office daily?

"No, Sir." Jim replied. His eyes were harder and colder than Simon or Blair had ever seen them. "Now if you think that I'm not doing my job, I suggest you do what ever you feel is best. However, it won't change the fact that there are innocent people dieing because of what this company is doing."

"Jesus, Jim." Simon shook his head in disbelief. "Did I say anything about taking your badge? I'm concerned about proper procedure. I'm concerned that we have another death do deal with." After a pause he continued. "I'm also concerned that a friend of mine is tearing himself apart because his too emotionally involved in this case."

Before anyone had a chance to say anything, Carolyn came over. "Jim was right," she said to Simon. "There are two good prints on the arrow. I'll send them in for identification as soon as we get back to the station."

"Thank you, Carol," Simon smiled tiredly. "Look, Jim, it's been a long day, and I know you have to be tired. Why don't the two of you head home and get some rest. There's nothing more we can do until then."

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Jim turned to Carolyn. "Thanks for coming in on this one. We'll see you tomorrow."

"I was still at work when you called, Jim. But thanks for asking for me." She replied softly. "Look I know I acted like a real bitch when all of this happened and I wanted to apologize(apologize). I hope we can still be friends."

For the first time that evening, Jim's lips curled into a tight smile. "I'd like that, Carol."

"Take care of yourself, okay?" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then turned to Blair. "Make sure he's okay. I've known him quite a while. He doesn't look to good."

"I'll take care of him," Blair promised somberly, his own grief tinting his words. "It's been a tough day for all of us."

Incacha watched as the vehicles with the flashing lights finally left the tall building with the emblem of the Great Eye. He had seen Enquiri leave with his guide not to long ago and neither of them looked happy.

He knew he had to break the lingering bond between himself and the sentinel. His presence here in this city was causing friction between the pair, which wasn't good for the newly formed bond. The sooner he and his warriors captured Chief Torrens, the sooner he could break the bond and return to the jungle. They would return to the glass tower at first light and wait for him to arrive.

With the speed and agility that came from decades of life in the jungle, the shaman made his way through the canyons of giant buildings until he returned to the old empty one, with a forest in the sky.

The next morning Blair rolled over and slammed his hand against the alarm clock to shut it's(its) incessant beep off. Cracking his eyes open, he tried to figure out what was wrong with his room. The ambient noise was off in some way, it was too open and echoy.

He sat up in surprise, when he saw that he was not in his bed, but in Jim's. The older man was lying on his back next to him, sleeping soundly. A quick inspection showed Blair that he was dressed in boxers and there was no sign that anything other than sleep had occurred the night before.

Blair rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he remembered what happened last night. Jim had been surly and tired, Blair had just wanted to go to sleep, but Jim's senses had started to spike out of control. The only thing that had been able to calm his senses had been Blair's close proximity. Eventually Blair had given up trying to put any amount of distance between them and suggested they sleep upstairs, together.

Blair had fallen asleep mere minutes after laying down. He wasn't sure when Jim finally got some sleep, but he had to admit that seeing his sentinel sleeping so soundly next to him, was a lovely sight indeed. He became concerned when he realized that Jim hadn't woken up at the sound of the alarm.

"Hey, Jim. Time to get up." He called placing his hand on his bed mates shoulder. Blair could see Jim's eyes moving quickly under his eyelids. REM sleep was normal in any living mammal, but Blair had never heard of a sentinel being so deep that his guide's touch wouldn't wake him. "Jim. Wake up, man."

Jim frowned in his sleep, turning his head as though trying to listen to something. The movements increased as did the sleeping man's agitation, until his eyes suddenly flew open, and he gasped for breath. "Oh, man..."

"Are you okay, Jim?" Blair asked, placing his hand on Jim's bare chest.

"Blair?" Jim asked, as though uncertain of his surroundings.

"Yeah, tough guy, it's me." Blair replied softly, moving his hand across Jim's chest in a soothing motion. "That looked like one hell of a dream. Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about." Jim said, trying to roll away.

Blair stopped him by a light grip on his right biceps. "Don't give me that, Jim. A sentinel's dreams can be very significant. Considering you didn't wake from either my voice or touch, I'd say this one was a doozey."

Collapsing back onto his pillows, Jim rolled his eyes at his guide. "You want to know my dream? Fine. I dreamt that a spotted jaguar was running wild through a pasture of grazing heard animals. It started killing anything it got close to, until the field was red with blood.

A pack of other predators, all different types, chased down the jaguar, and killed it, but then hunters came and started shooting the pack, thinking that they were to blame for the slaughter. The ones that weren't killed were trapped and put in cages, never allowed to run free and hunt again. All because no one was no one to tell the hunters that the pack was innocent.""

"Oh man..." Blair breathed, he had been holding his breath since the middle of Jim's recollection. "That's heavy."

"It's stupid and it doesn't make any sense." Jim retorted.

"Maybe, maybe not." Blair replied, getting out of bed as Jim did the same. "There could be a hidden meaning within the dream. It could be prophetic in origin, or it could be just be a reaction to the turns in this case."

Jim heard the sudden pain in Blair's voice and halted his decent down the stairs. "Are you okay?"

Blair wrapped his arms around himself. "I should never have asked for her help. It was too dangerous." His eyes blazed with self-recrimination. "How could I have been so stupid?"

Jim surged forward and wrapped Blair in a tight embrace. "You weren't stupid. You were looking for a way to help, and you had a friend that you knew had the right access." He kissed Blair's temple gently. "That she was killed is a tragedy, but I think she was the kind of person that would be willing to lay her life on the line for the right cause."

Blair relaxed into the warm embrace. "Yeah, she was a real champion of the environment."

"Are you ready to get those bastards?" Jim askes(asked) pushing Blair back to arms length.

"Oh, yeah. It's beyond payback time." Blair agreed.

"Good, you make breakfast, while I get the first shower." Jim playfully slapped Blair up side the head, before turning and making all speed to the bathroom.

"Hey!" Blair protested, even though he smiled at Jim's playfulness.

They drove to the station, it was still early enough that no one else had yet to arrive in the Major Crime bullpen. An overnight priority envelope with the return address of Janet Myer's home, sat in Jim's mail pile.

"My god." Blair ripped open the envelope and read the letter paper clipped to a sheaf of paper. " 'Blair, I don't know if I've been discovered or not. I'm sending these copies of existing files to you this way in case something should happen to me. Thank you so much for showing me what I had closed my eyes to. Be good to Jim, remember, he's your partner, not your pet. Love and Peace, Janet' "

Blair and Jim both poured through the files as quickly as they could. "It looks like Torren used the resources that were availabl) down in Peru to drill for oil, while funneling the money through a dummy corporation called Hail." Jim said.

"Yeah, and all the profits are going straight to him and probably his head of security."

Jim nodded and turned as Carolyn entered the bullpen. "Oh, good, you're both here. The prints came back with a match. A man named Mitch Yager."

"He's Torrens' security man. Let's pick that bastard up." Jim confirmed grimly. "Thanks Carol." He pecked her cheek as her and Blair headed out the door.

"Any time, Jim." She smiled, finally having come to grips with her loss. "Anytime."

Even though Blair drove with the lights flashing, it took most of the ride out to Cyclops Oil for Jim to explain the situation to the federal agents. He wanted this to be a clean bust, no chance of Torren or anyone else involved getting out on bail and skipping the country. Three patrol cars followed them into the parking garage ignoring the incensed guard that tried to stop them.

Jim opened his senses, not wanting to miss the CEO if he was trying to get away. He was surprised to hear the sound of several car alarms going off on the next level. "Up the ramp, Chief." he ordered. "There is something going down."

Blair hit the gas and sped up the ramp, turning into the second floor parking, both he and Jim were shocked to see the Chopec warriors surrounding Torren's(Torrens') limo. Blair pulled over to the side to allow the other cars to enter as well, and threw the truck into park. Jim jumped out and pulled his gun

Jim jumped out and pulled his gun, moving in even as Blair ran to join his side. "Torrens, Yeager don't either of you move. You're under arrest for the murder of Janet Myers and violation of international law. /Incacha, I'll take care of this, they will face justice for their crimes against the land./"

"Detective, you have to help me," Torrens begged. "These savages came out of no where and attacked us."

Yager backed away slowly, obviously looking for a way out. "I said don't move!" Jim ordered, training his gun on the security chief.

The rest of the police moved in, mistaking the Chopec as the threat, they tried to arrest the warriors.

"No, not them!" Blair yelled as a struggle ensued. His tone caused Incacha to turn away from the objects of his quest, to see what was wrong. In that spit-second, Yeager pulled out his own weapon and fired at the shaman at nearly point blank range.

The shot echoed through the hollow cavern that was your typical parker garage, and was joined by the anguished shout from Jim that was drowned out by the report of his own pistol returning fire.

Incacha staggered backward a step, his hands going to his chest, where the bullet had pierced his flesh. Slowly he sank to the cold concrete, his eyes locked on Jim's.

Jim dropped his gun to the floor and ran forward, reaching the shaman just before he could crack his head on the ground. "Incacha..." his voice was no more than a harsh whisper.

//Enquiri... I'm sorry.// Incacha gasped.

//There is nothing to be sorry about.// Jim replied, cradling his friend in his arms. He was vaguely aware of Blair ordering someone to get an ambulance, but he knew it would never arrive in time.

//Yes... sentinel needed to go home... I didn't sever our bond... no time... It hurt you...// Incacha touched Jim's cheek with a blood covered hand. //... loved you too much... to let you go.//

Blair scrambled over to Jim's side. "Oh my god. Jim?"

Jim's anguished eyes told the guide all he needed to know. He bowed his head, trying to deny the loss that Jim was about to face. A steely grip locked onto his forearm as Incacha suddenly grabbed onto him. Blair's head jerked up, his eyes switching quickly between the bloody hand on his arm, Incacha's suddenly fierce expression, and Jim's confused and lost face.

// I pass the way of the Shaman to you, Guide. Even as I pass into the spirit realm.// Incacha intoned. He could hear Enquiri speaking as well, obviously translating for his guide. //I pass the bond of the first guide, to the true guide. Protect him, guide him... love him as you would no other...// He traced line in his own blood across first Blair's left cheek, and then Jim's.

Jim felt tears threatening to fall even as he finished the translation. Incacha's eyes locked with his and a spasm of pain ripped through the shaman's body. Slowly the spasm ended and the life drained out of Incacha's eyes and he exhaled for the last time.

"Incacha..." Jim called gently. When his senses told him that his dear friend was gone, he bent low and placed a chased kiss on the cooling red painted forehead

With the same care he would have taken with a baby, Jim lowered Incacha's still form to the ground. He turned toward Yeager, and noted with grim satisfaction that Incacha's killer lay unmoving in a pool of his own blood.

"Detective Ellison," Torrens called, even as he was being cuffed. "I have no idea what was going on."

Jim turned slowly to glare at the CEO in disdain. "That is Sentinel Detective, Torrens. Remember that when you stand trial for your crimes."

As the two men were lead away in cuffs, the remaining Chopec turned to Jim. //You will take care of Incacha?// One of them asked.

//I know the rituals. I'll send him to his ancestors.// Jim promised.

The Chopec nodded. //Our ship leaves at sundown, we must be on it or we'll never see home again. Be well, Enquiri.//

Jim bowed his head. //Be well, and safe journey.//

Even as the warriors melted into the shadows, the Feds stormed into the garage demanding to know what happened. Both Sentinel and Guide, emotionally exhausted, knew that his was only the beginning of a very long day.

Jim followed the coroner's truck beck to the precinct with a single mindedness that had Blair very concerned. The sentinel had barely said three words that weren't related to the case since Incacha had died. Worried that Jim was in shock, Blair had stuck to him like glue, not allowing more than ten feet between them at any moment, and not willing to allow anyone to cross in between them.

Blair watched with increasing interest as Jim hovered over Dan Wolf, as he completed his examination of the shaman's body. Any time the native American doctor moved to touch the body, he would look at Jim for approval, not completing the action until he got a nod from him. Blair tried to keep his eyes from straying to the body, he wasn't used to death at such a personal level.

Finally, Wolf finished his examination and looked up Jim. "Sentinel, your first guide died as a result of a gunshot wound to the chest, which pierced his heart and ricocheted off his spine, into his liver. That he survived long enough to transfer what was left of his bond to Guide Sandburg is a miracle."

Jim's grim countenance revealed nothing of what he was thinking as he gently pulled the sheet over his friend's body and whispered something neither Blair or Dan could understand. Then he straightened and allowed Incacha to be placed inside the drawer. "I'll be back tomorrow to retrieve his body for burial. Make sure no one, and I mean no one touches him."

Dan nodded. "You have my word Jim. He'll be safe until you return."

Finally, Jim signaled to Blair that it was time to go, and marched out of the morgue without looking back. Blair followed closely, keeping his eyes on Jim.

It wasn't until they reached the truck that Blair saw the first signs of Jim's emotions starting to leak out. Normally rock steady hands shook as Jim fumbled with his keys trying to open the driver side door. Blair extended his hand, not demanding, merely asking for the keys. Jim stared at him for an unblinking moment then dropped the keys into his hand.

By the time they reached home, Blair was ready to turn the truck around and head for the University's SGR facility. Jim was shaking like he was coming down off a bad drug trip. It was obvious he was losing control of his senses, and there was a small window of time in which to get him somewhere safe, before he overloaded completely.

Blair pulled Jim out of the truck, his arms around Jim's waist. "Come on, man. Give me a little help, you're not a light weight," he groaned as he hauled Jim inside and into the elevator. He wasn't sure how he managed it, but finally, Blair got Jim inside their loft apartment.

Gently laying Jim on the floor, Blair felt a rising panic. He had studied sentinels most of his adult life and had even witnessed overloads from time to time, but this was as bad as he'd ever seen anyone get. Jim was curled in a ball, his skin pale and his eyes opened and sightless. There was every indication that he was suffering full Guide Loss. Why Jim was suffering so strongly from Incacha's loss, when their connection was still there, he didn't know. All Blair knew was that he had to act fast or loose Jim to the emotional backlash.

The best place to reaffirm their own connection would be up in Jim's bed, the area that was totally Jim's. But there was no way, Blair could drag Jim up that flight of stairs without killing them both. Thinking quickly, he stripped the two couches of their cushions and piled them together. Then he ran into this bedroom and grabbed his blankets and pillows adding them to the pile to form a nest of sorts. Finally, he placed a compact-disk of Australian aboriginal music in the stereo, with the volume just high enough for him to hear.

Blair dragged Jim onto the cushions and quickly stripped himself and Jim of their clothes. Crawling up next to the trembling form, Blair laid down and pulled Jim on top of him, carefully positioning Jim's ear over his chest, not wanting to think about how clammy and cold Jim's normally warm and vibrant body was. He managed to cover them both with a thick, flannel comforter that was so well worn that it was butter-soft to the touch and began the slow task of bring Jim back from the edge.

He gently petted Jim's head and shoulders, murmuring words of comfort, allowing his emotions free reign to prove to the sentinel's senses that there was no deception in his actions. Slowly, the spasmodic trembling stopped and the cold, pale skin began to warm. Very slowly, Jim wrapped his limbs around Blair's body. So intent was he on watching Jim's physical responses, he almost missed the first splash of hot tears as they fell onto his chest.

"It's okay, Jim. Let it out." Blair whispered. "There is no shame in it, he loved you very much."

Jim shuddered and clutched Blair in an iron grip as great heaving sobs broke free, having been bottled up for far too long. He cried for Incacha, for his lost men in Peru, for his lost childhood innocence, for his mother, whom he hadn't seen in nearly two decades and for the freedom he had lost because of what he was. He wept until he had no more tears to shed. He was aware of his Blair's naked body, holding him, comforting him, bringing his senses back on line with ever touch and every breath.

The first thing each of his senses felt was Blair, his sent, the feel of his skin, the soft whooshing sound of his heart beating. Jim slowly opened his eyes and raised his head to look into Blair's dark blue eyes.

Blair smiled at him sadly, cupping his chin with his hand. "My sentinel."

Jim shuddered one last time, his eyes closing in reaction to a century old instinctual ritual. "My guide." Their lips met, gentle and sweet. The kiss was salty from tears and sweet with the realization of true emotional bonding.

The kiss deepened into something more passionate. There eyes met and Jim saw the one thing that he had been searching for in the weeks they had known each other, love. He claimed Blair's lips asking for and recieving entrance into the warm mouth. He sucked on Blair's tongue gently and burried his hands in Blair's hair.

Blair suddenly realized he wasn't breathing and inhailed slowly though his nose. He grabbed Jim's ass and pulled their groins together, grinding his hard cock under Jim's cock and balls. Jim rolled onto his back and spead his legs with a groan, allowing Blair to settle between his legs. Blair grinned eagerly and kissed his way down Jim's chest, pausing to suckle at Jim's nipples before going down on Jim's cock in once swift move.

Jim screamed in pleasure, totally lost in the sensation of the hot wet heat sucking him. He thrust his hips up, fucking Blair's mouth in short thrusts. He barely noticed Blair parting his ass and teasing his hole with a finger until he pressed in a little. "Oh god, yes." He gasped pushing back on the finger as it retreated. "Do it."

Blair pulled away from his tasty mouthful of cock. "Do you have anything?"

Jim moaned from the loss of sensation but nodded. "Upstairs."

"I'll be right back," Blair promissed and scampered away as fast as his own raging hard on would let him. He pulled open the drawer next to Jim's bed and found a spare pistol, a tube of lube, and a medium sized dildo. A smile krept over his face at the thought and desided they might have use for it in the future. He grabbed the lube and headed back down to his lover.

Jim had calmed down a bit in the time Blair had been gone and he smiled at the sight of Blair, naked and hard for him. "Come here," he said, getting up on his knees. "I want to suck you first."

"Oh yeah," Blair breathed hotly was pulled forward by Jim's strong hands. "Oh fuck!" He gasped as Jim sucked him into his mouth. "Yes, oh, yes! God, you're good." Never had anyone sucked his cock as expertly as Jim as doing now. Just when he thought he was going to come, he pulled Jim off his cock with a wet slurp.

"What-?" Jim in confusion

"You offered to let me fuck you, I'm holding you to that," Blair said with lust filled eyes.

"How do you want me?"

"On your back, I want to see your face." Blair replied breathlessly. He gently pushed Jim back into the nest of cushions and grabbed the forgotten lube from where he had dropped it. Jim spread his legs and moaned as Blair licked the tip of his cock. "You're so beautiful." Blair said as he pressed his index finger into the tight hole, the muscle stretched easily and Blair watched in facination as Jim began to whimper and thrash with need for more. "You like this don't you?"

"Yes!" Jim cried out, trying to fuck himself in his lover's hand, all his cares and emotional pain forgotten in the need to have this man inside him. "Please, now."

"Please, what?" Blair teased adding a second finger, twisting them inside, making Jim grunt wit need.

"Fuck me! Damn you, fuck me now!" Jim hadn't even finished his demand when Blair pulled his fingers out and slowly pressed his cock into Jim's ass.

"Oh! Blair!" Jim arched his back and pushed hard against Blair, forcing his cock deeper. "Yes!"

Blair pulled out and thrust back in, setting a rhythm that had them both panting harshly. Jim reached down and fisted his own cock in time to Blair's thrusts, his legs wrapped around Blair's waist in an attempt to pull him closer. "God you feel so good Jim. We fit together perfectly."

Jim screamed with pleasure and clenched his ass as Blair hit his prostate, the tightening muscles sent Blair over the edge. Blair froze for a moment, coming deep inside his lover. He slumped down over Jim's chest, his cock still buried deep. He wrapped his hand around Jim's and they fisted Jim's cock to completion. Semen jetted out and splattered both their chests, coating their joined hands.

They lay together quietly until Blair's softened cock slipped out of Jim's body. Jim lifted their hands and licked the cum off their fingers.

"You're mine, Jim. Forever. No one will ever have you but me." Blair said possesively.

"Only you," Jim agreed. "Only you. You're mine, Blair. I'll never let you go not even in death."

"Not even in death." Blair replied. They stayed like that, tangled together listening to each other breathe. Sleep claimed them in their nest of cushions and somewhere, Incacha smiled in approval.

The End for now. A sequel is planned.

End Sentinel-Guide Research Project by Sorka: sorka42@earthlink.net

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