These characters do not belong to me, and I intend no infringement upon the rights of the original creators, producers, or anyone associated with Pet Fly, UPN, or Paramount. This is an original work of fiction intended only for the enjoyment of other fans.

This story originally appeared in Senses of Wonder II, an AU zine. If you're interested in buying the zine, there may still be a few more copies left. However, once it's out of print, it's out of print forever.(http://www.skeeter63.org/zines/blackjagindex.html)
Frostdoll drew a fantastic picture for this story. It can be found at: http://www.fragile-wings.net/gallery/images/ts/moonhunt.jpg (Be sure to send her feedback so she'll draw more for us!)

My thanks to all the Lurkers (and Sonja) who made SoW2 a wonderful collaborative effort. This story is for Frost.

Blair Sandburg caught himself, mid-stumble, by grabbing the corner of the brick building. Despite his better judgment, he looked back and almost wept in despair. They were close, closer than he had expected.

Pushing himself off the wall, he ran down the middle of the street. There was no point trying to hide in the shadows. One couldn't hide from a pack of hunting sentinels.

He berated himself for his stupidity, knowing he should have stayed inside; but Melissa had needed a healer and Jason had been beside himself. He had turned on the weather channel and gotten the time for sunset, relieved to realize he had plenty of time. Even though the couple had asked him to stay, he hadn't felt right about imposing on them, especially with their meager resources. Looking at his watch he'd known he wouldn't have any problem getting home before dark.

He hadn't counted on the storm sitting over the city as it had or the fact that the pack would see the early darkness as a bonus.

He realized now that he shouldn't have panicked when the young sentinel had started to pace him. His mental shields would have been enough to confuse the young guardian long enough for him to seek shelter, but his mind had been on Monday's lecture.

The irony of being hunted by the city's guardians wasn't lost on him either. He understood the pack's need to hunt as a group, to reconnect with other packs of their clan, to give in to their primal nature which they strove so hard to control during the rest of the month.

As an anthropologist, he understood this need, but as a practicing shaman and a prime candidate for being selected as a guide, he knew what bonding would mean to his life, a life he enjoyed and was not anxious to give up. Not after... Even if he could forgive and forget, which he couldn't, life as a guide would be about compromise -- in other words, giving up who he was.

While he disregarded the wild rumors and increasing number of urban legends surrounding the moonhunts, he was aware of an incident three months before of a young guide being traumatized by a pack hunt. Cascade had a growing number of unbonded sentinels. The buzz on the street was that even the alpha sentinel of the clan was currently unbonded.

Cascade was well known for being a dangerous city, but sociologists had speculated that the constant danger the guardians found themselves in was leading to the evolution of a new type of sentinel -- more powerful, who demanded a more powerful guide.

The young woman in question would have gladly accepted a bonding; had, in fact, ventured forth on the night of the moonhunt to see if she could find a bondmate. She had been unprepared for the depths of primality she had encountered from the group, or the number of guardians who had opened to her and fought over her.

The sentinels had been mortified by their actions in the bright light of day and had immediately taken the woman into their clan to help heal her. As it turned out, she had a gift with children and was currently in charge of overseeing the primary sentinel child care unit.

Blair wasn't looking for a bondmate, didn't want one, didn't need one; but he realized the point was probably moot now.

Well, he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

He slowed his run to a jog, then to a walk, stopping finally in the middle of a well-lit intersection. Cascade had almost a half-million people within her boundaries. The odds of the whole clan, heck even the whole pack, being in this area were fairly small. He was willing to take his chances with the young ones approaching him.

The pack stopped, curious, when they realized he wasn't running anymore. There were four male teenagers, probably around eighteen or nineteen, definitely not bonded, otherwise their guides would be with them, for guides also participated in moonhunts as a way to deepen the connection with their sentinels.

Without a word, they surrounded him, circling, keeping their distance.

"I'm not interested in bonding," he said in a normal tone of voice, although he wanted to shout.

"The moon is full," a tall redhead responded.

"Are you sure?" he countered. "'Cause I can't see a thing myself."

The redhead actually looked stymied for a second before his companions laughed at him. A belligerent look crossed the teen's face. "Any guide walking the streets during the moonhunt is considered fair game."

"Ah, but I'm not a guide," Blair said, making sure to control his body's reactions to the lie.

All four youths tilted their heads, trying to catalogue his response.

"I had forgotten it was a blue moon. When I saw you, I thought you were a gang looking for an easy target. When I realized what day it was, I stopped my running so that I could explain things to you."

"His heart rate is normal." The blond teen frowned. "Well, normal for someone who just stopped running."

"It would explain his other symptoms," a dark-haired sentinel said quietly, nodding.

Blair clapped his hands once. "Good. Thank you. I'm glad we could clear this up." He turned to continue his walk down the street.

"I think we should get an alpha's opinion," the last teen said quietly.

Blair put a big show on of sighing impatiently. "I appreciate your wanting to be sure, but I'm already late for an appointment."

"We can't just let you go," the blond argued, surprised that their prey wasn't cooperating.

"Look, there's nothing in the governing rules that says a citizen has to submit to a sentinel on the hunt. In fact, even guides don't have to submit," Blair explained with a patience he didn't feel.

"Guides do too have to submit," the dark haired boy countered, shocked by the very concept.

Blair shook his head and said in a very firm tone, "No. They don't."

"But..."

"Craig," the quiet sentinel teen interrupted. "He's right. Guides aren't obligated under the law to submit. However, there's never been a guide who could resist bonding during a moonhunt."

"There's always a first time, kid," Blair mumbled to himself, then widened his eyes in horror as he realized what he had done.

Feral grins instantly blossomed around him.

"TRUCK!" Blair shouted and pointed behind the blond.

When the youths spun to face the oncoming imaginary vehicle, Blair turned and ran. He was only six blocks from home and with the adrenaline pumping through his system, he had no doubt he could stay ahead of the teenagers.

Even though his heart beat fiercely in his ears, he could hear the youths behind him talking as they ran, and with a sinking feeling he knew they were calling out their moving position to the rest of the pack -- which meant they had, at least, one elder in the area.

He chanced a glance down a side street as he passed it and felt a cold fist of fear clench around his heart as more guardians converged on the area. Of course they would, he realized belatedly. They'd never let the teens get too far away from the watchful eyes or protection of the pack. The elders might let the youths have some distance in order to give them a sense of independence, but they would always be only a shout away.

Blair focused further up the street and almost stumbled to a stop.

He wasn't going to make it home.

Again, he stopped in the center of an intersection and waited as the larger pack gathered around him, keeping several yards away from him.

Blair became aware of a news helicopter over him and realized he was about to make the evening news. He shook his head. The public's fascination with the hunt wasn't too far below the sentinels'.

He tried to calm his breathing, but his chest still heaved with the exertion of his attempted escape.

"So, what do we have here?" a tall black man asked, stepping into the circle.

"A guide, Uncle Simon," the dark haired teen volunteered. "Although he claims he's not."

The group around him murmured their surprise.

"If you didn't want to find a bondmate, what are you doing out on a night with a full moon?" the imposing figure turned to ask Blair.

Blair decided to go on the offensive. "The hunt began before sunset, sentinel. If the boys had played by the rules, I would've been home by now."

"It was dark!" the blond teen exclaimed.

"But not sunset," Blair countered.

"It's after sunset now," Simon observed, nonchalantly.

"I'm aware of that," Blair said quietly. "I would appreciate being allowed to pass."

"Simon! He's a shaman!" a redheaded woman from the crowd exclaimed, pointing toward his necklace.

Blair shut his eyes briefly, steeling his mental walls as he prepared himself for what was to come.

"Has there ever been a shaman guide?" an awed male voice from the crowd asked.

Simon nodded. "Yes. Almost eighty years ago. He and his sentinel were the most powerful guardian pair in the history of the Northwest."

An excited rumbling raced around the circle.

"I want to go home," Blair said, trying not to sound plaintive.

"I understand." Simon nodded sympathetically. "But it's after sunset..."

"I would have been inside if..."

"There are no legalities in a situation like this," a blonde woman from the crowd called out, stepping forward. "Yes, the boys probably shouldn't have detained you, but they did. It's after sunset and now you're fair game."

A raindrop splattered on his cheek and he flinched involuntarily. "I will not submit."

"You don't have a choice, hon," a woman in the crowd said, not unsympathetically.

It began to rain lightly. Blair felt something inside of him snap, and he stood to his full height. He turned slowly and looked at the sentinels surrounding him, noted that they practically twitched in anticipation. There was no sympathy in this crowd, no one to whom he could appeal. He felt his lip draw back into a sneer as he completed his circle and was once again facing the tall man named Simon.

"So which one of you thinks they can take me on?" Blair taunted the group, even as he began to pull in power from around him.

"You would fight us?" Simon asked, shocked.

"Until my dying breath," Blair vowed.

The group gasped in horror.

The quiet teen stepped forward. "In the beginning, there would come a time when a sentinel or a guide would make the decision that they were ready to take a soulmate. They would hunt until they found someone whose soul called to them. Often times, their mate would feel they were not ready or capable of becoming a guardian and matters would have to be...expedited."

Blair laughed harshly. "Call it what it was! They were taken by force."

"But it wasn't only sentinels taking guides, it was guides taking sentinels as well," the teen countered.

"I don't give a rat's ass," Blair growled. "It was still force, just as this is force. Is this what our city's protectors have become -- common thugs that they would force an innocent to bond against his will, despite there being hundreds of willing participants strolling the streets? How can you justify tracking down killers and thieves when you're no better than they are?"

"We aren't killers," the redheaded teen shouted angrily.

"You're willing to kill my hopes, my dreams, to steal me from my way of life. You know nothing about me, yet you're willing to take all that I am. What makes you any different from a thug holding up a convenience store and taking money and goods that don't belong to him?"

"This is different," a female shouted from the crowd.

Blair pushed his rain-slicked hair back from his face. "No matter how many times you tell yourself that, it'll never make it true."

"What are we going to do, Simon?" a voice from behind Blair asked.

"I don't know," the dark man admitted reluctantly.

The quiet teen took another step into the circle. "How many hear this shaman call to them?"

Most of the hands in the group rose.

"My God." Simon shook his head. "A pack guide."

The quiet teen smiled. "I'm willing to bet he's a clan guide."

The group stood in stunned silence. The rain and the gentle whooshing of the helicopter above them were the only sounds disturbing the night.

"We can't let him go, Simon," a voice from the group called out.

"What are we going to do?" another voice called out.

"Where's Ellison? He'll know what to do."

The group unconsciously shuffled forward. Blair raised one hand over his chest and pushed one hand out from his body as he slowly turned. "I will not submit."

"As we said, hon," the blonde woman said, "You don't really have a choice."

The group moved forward as one. Yelling, Blair reached within himself and pushed outward. The pack members were flung backward to the ground. Blair never hesitated, and raced between the fallen bodies. He was aware of hands reaching out to grab him, but he managed to elude them. After running several yards, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog whistle and blew for all he was worth. The sentinels, who were beginning to gain their feet, cried out in pain, their hands covering their ears. The ones still standing, he reasoned, were guides, but they were already bending over to help their mates.

Blair spun back around and ran down the street and into his apartment complex. While the pack could probably track him to his building, they were not allowed to enter during a moonhunt, more than enough time to cover his scent. The walkways were covered and he hoped it would be enough to keep the helicopter from tracking him. He moved quickly through several buildings, hoping to confuse any would-be followers.

When he deemed it safe, he raced up the stairs to his apartment. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he tried to unlock his front door. After a full minute, he was able to get the key in the door, and flung himself into the loft. He leaned back against the wall, dropped his keys to the hardwood floor and slowly slid down the doorframe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, tried to control the fear raging within him. For several moments, he thought he was successful, so he was surprised when the first sob shook his frame. Tilting ever so slowly, he lay on his side and gave himself over to his emotions.

Blair awoke as the noonday sun poured through his skylight. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, grateful beyond belief that it was Saturday and not a work day. He had been up until the wee hours of the night using his powers to diffuse his scent from not only the building's hallways but from the complex itself. Normally, he would have roamed the corridors and gone outside, but he had been afraid of being spotted either by neighbors or by the pack. He had no memory of actually climbing the stairs to his bedroom.

He rubbed both hands over his eyes, then reached blindly for his glasses and slipped them on his face. Groaning, he sat up in bed, trying to ignore his growling stomach. He plodded into the bathroom and went through his morning routine, before picking up the remote and flicking on the television as he moved into the kitchen.

//Again, Chad, this footage is just amazing. You can see the guide was initially followed by four children from the Central Pack. The guide appears to be talking to them, then was able to distract them before racing down Prospect."//

Blair stopped and slowly turned to face the television. He watched in horror as he saw himself running down the street.

//From our Skycam's advantage point, you can watch the various members of the pack converge on the guide.//

//Do we know yet if the guide was male or female?//

//No, I'm afraid not, Chad. With the rain and the close proximity of the buildings, our cameraman was unable to get a clear shot. However, watch this, it's absolutely fascinating. This guide is somehow able to hold the entire pack at bay for nearly five minutes. When they finally moved in for the claiming, and this is where it gets really interesting, the entire pack moved forward, not one or perhaps two, but the entire pack. Despite this, the guide was able to somehow push them all back."//

//"Who could do such a thing, Bill?"//

//"Our researchers have indicated that a move such as this might be possible by a shaman, but there is no known shaman in Cascade believed to have this kind of power."//

//"So we have a new player in town?"//

//"That or someone has been keeping a tight lid on their abilities. Further, the guide turns and somehow prevents the sentinels from following."//

//Ah, but not everyone fell to the ground.//

//Which goes to show that the guide was somehow able to attack only the sentinels...somehow using their senses against them.//

//The question becomes: why would a guide fight bonding? It's considered an honor to be part of a sentinel/guide team, especially a team from Central. There are hundreds of people who walk the streets during each moonhunt, trying to find a soulmate, hoping to become a part of these special teams.//

//Was our chopper able to track the guide?//

//No, as you can see by this footage, the guide went into the Prospect Apartment Complex. There are literally dozens of buildings in this complex, filled with singles and young married couples. One would literally have to be a sentinel in order to trail such an elusive prey. //

//What does the Central Pack have to say about this incident?//

//Amazingly enough, they have been very quiet on the subject. However, one thing is for certain, something is happening. Several guardian lawyers have been seen going in and out of the central police department. The building is buzzing with activity, but as of yet, no statement has been made. We will, of course, keep you up to date on this strange incident.//

Blair clicked the television off, his appetite suddenly gone.

His only saving grace had been that the cameraman had been unable to get a clear focus on his features. As far as the news was concerned, he could be either male or female. He trembled slightly. Of course, the pack knew the truth.

But what good would it do them? He was well within his legal rights to refuse a bonding. So why were guardian lawyers converging on Central? Could he be arrested for the dog whistle? Again, he knew better. The only reason the whistle had worked the night before was that the sentinels had lowered their shields in preparation to attempt a bond with him. A part of him felt bad for causing them pain, but he clenched down savagely on the feeling. If they had only let him pass, he wouldn't have been forced to use such drastic actions.

So what in the hell was going on?

He opened the refrigerator door. He had enough food to last him until Monday, and Lord knew he had enough to keep him busy around the loft.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he decided to stay in the loft for the rest of the weekend.

Blair shifted nervously back and forth in front of the bathroom mirror. He had showered with a different shampoo and body gel all weekend, had eaten so much garlic he was fairly certain it was oozing out of his pores and, even though he abhorred using cologne, sprayed just the tiniest bit from a bottle his mother had sent him the year before.

A brief check of his mental shields assured him that everything was in place and reinforced. He opened his eyes and looked down at his watch, which showed not only the time but the date as well. Only ten more days and the semester would be over and he would be on his way to New Mexico for his annual lessons with Joseph, the Navajo shaman who had saved his life so many years before.

He took several deep breaths to center himself, then pulled his long curly hair back into a tight ponytail. He had considered cutting it over the weekend, but decided against it, refusing to give up a part of himself over the fiasco.

Satisfied, he grabbed his backpack and his keys and headed for the university. The sun was shining and he raised his face upward for a moment in appreciation as he came out of his apartment building.

He spotted the uniformed sentinel resting against the building by the sidewalk the moment he reached Prospect, but never hesitated as he walked to the bus stop. He had been expecting a scout, knowing the pack would be seeking information on the one who got away.

The bus was running on time and he got on and sat down, pulling a small journal from his outer pouch. The Corvair would be back in two days once it had its tires changed and the engine tuned-up. He had been planning ahead for a change, preparing for the long drive. As much as he loved his classic, he didn't want to find himself sitting on the side of the road in the deserts of Nevada because it was low on oil or some other thing.

His eyes flicked up at the next stop and he calmly took a deep breath as a guardian boarded the bus and moved down the aisle to sit two seats behind him. The rest of the trip proceeded quietly, or as quietly as it could proceed on a twenty-year-old bus, and he stuffed his journal back into his backpack as the bus neared his stop.

He tried not to notice the guardian getting off at the same stop he did. Hitching up his backpack, he strode confidently across the campus to Hargrove Hall. Although his steps never wavered, he bit the inside of his lip as he noticed a female sentinel leaning nonchalantly against the concrete steps leading up to the ancient building. He nodded politely to her as he jogged up the stairs and made his way down the hall to his office.

Once in his office, he shuffled through the papers in his in-basket to see if there was anything that demanded his immediate attention, then headed to the lecture hall to teach his first class.

Students straightened in their chairs and the noise level dropped significantly as he entered the hall.

"I was pretty impressed with your papers," he stated to the class as he plopped the backpack on the table at the front of the room and removed one of the bundles from within. "One might conclude that you're actually learning something from this class."

The class laughed and he exchanged several smiles with students as he passed back their papers. It wasn't until he was at the back of the room that he noticed the man dressed in black.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The startlingly blue eyes turned toward him and Blair felt as if they could see through to his very soul. "Just thought I'd audit the class if you don't mind," the man said quietly.

"I don't mind at all. If you'd like to follow along in the book, I'm sure Cynthia wouldn't mind sharing." Blair grinned at the young girl who couldn't hide the dreamy smile she was sending the older man sitting beside her.

Blair finished handing out the papers, then launched into his lecture. The hour flew by.

"Now remember, the final is Friday. It's going to be comprehensive and, no, it will not be multiple choice, although a majority of it will be comprised of short answers. However, after reading your papers over the weekend, I'm not too worried. I think you guys are going to do great. We'll do a review on Wednesday, so have your questions ready. Wednesday is also the absolute last day for stragglers to turn in any outstanding papers. As always, stop by the office if you have any questions or concerns."

The class shuffled out while Blair put his notes back into his backpack. He erased the whiteboard and was preparing to head back to his office when he noticed the auditor standing by the door. He swallowed hard, feeling drawn to the man, as if they somehow knew each other.

"So, what did you think of the class?" he asked politely, while walking toward the door.

"You're a very good teacher, very passionate. It's no wonder the students like you."

"Thanks." Blair smiled when the man joined him at the door. "So do you have a son or daughter in class?"

"No."

Blair couldn't help but notice how the man towered over him by several inches. He wore his hair short, giving him the impression of a military man. His shoulders were wide, while his hips were slim. There was a quiet strength about the man that projected kindness and a sort of warm security.

"Do you have an interest in anthropology then?"

"Not really."

Blair slowed to a stop, his heart sinking into his stomach. "So what brought you to my class today?"

The man stopped, his clear blue eyes centering on Blair's face. "You did."

Blair swallowed hard. "I did?"

The man nodded.

"What's so interesting about me?" Blair asked, then started walking toward his office again.

"I'm curious how an anthropology professor managed to take down thirty of Cascade's finest guardians."

Blair stopped again and turned to face the larger man.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"I heard you, but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

The man closed the distance between them. "So that's how you're going to play it?"

"I'm not playing at anything, man."

Blair watched as the taller man cocked his head slightly, a classic listening pose; no doubt trying to hear his heartbeat, but Blair knew his heart wouldn't give him away. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I have grades to enter. I'm sorry I'm not who you think I am." Blair turned and walked down the hallway.

"It's not that bad, you know?" the man called out after him.

Blair sighed and turned back to face him. "What isn't?"

"Being a guide. Most consider it the ultimate career choice."

"I'm sure they do, Mr.--"

"Ellison. Jim Ellison."

Blair blinked.

\\"Where's Ellison? He'll know what to do."\\

"Mr. Ellison, but I'm not sure what this all has to do with me. I'm a professor--"

"The youngest in the history of Rainier."

Blair shrugged, disturbed that the man had apparently done a background check on him. "And an anthropologist. While I find the concept of the sentinel/guide pairing interesting and the whole pack/clan dynamics fascinating, it's not really my area of study. If you'd like, I can set you up with several professors, or maybe even a few graduate students, who might be able to--"

"To what?"

"I don't know. Do whatever you want to do?" Blair raised his arms heavenward in exasperation.

"So, you never wanted a soulmate?"

"What? Only sentinels and guides can be soulmates? Don't be ridiculous."

Jim slowly moved toward him and Blair got the distinct impression he was being stalked. "You never wanted to be part of something bigger than yourself? To walk by someone's side throughout life, to know they'll be there for you no matter what?"

Blair frowned. "Everyone leaves, man; and soulmates are a fallacy foisted upon an unsuspecting public, a romanticizing of a job title."

"Who hurt you, Chief?" Ellison asked quietly, moving even closer.

Blair blinked, shaking himself and taking several steps backward. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Was it a sentinel?"

"I don't have time for this. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Ellison."

Again, Blair turned to walk away.

"Shaman!"

"What?" Blair shouted in exasperation.

"You may have your shields up, but your soul still sings to mine."

Blair rolled his eyes and headed down the hallway. "Whatever, man."

Blair gasped at finding his back suddenly pinned to the wall, an angry sentinel inches in front of him. "You have been marked by the pack. Do you really think you can walk away from that?"

"I told you, you have the wrong guy," Blair gritted out.

Jim smiled seductively at him. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"You can't hide from the pack, Sandburg. We already have your scent," Jim said softly, making his words seem more like a caress than a threat. "You're one of us now, whether you realize it or not."

Blair splayed his right hand onto the larger man's chest and steadily pushed him backward. "No, I'm not. Believe it or not, Ellison, I have a life, one I'm very happy with, one I don't intend to give up without a fight. Besides there won't be another moonhunt for two more weeks."

"So?"

Blair grinned at him. "So nothing. Good-bye, Mr. Ellison." And with that, he left.

Blair looked up at the clock. Four p.m. His office hours were officially over, and yet he felt no compunction to leave. How had the guardians known who he was? He thought he had covered his trail fairly well. While he doubted he would ever be as good as Joseph, he knew what he had done should have been enough to keep the pack off his trail. Which meant that one of his neighbors turned him in or someone from the pack recognized him.

He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, remembering the faces in the rain as he had turned to face his pursuers. His eyes opened when he recognized one of the faces. A girl, probably around twenty, who had been in his Anthro 210 class the semester before. A guide, as he recalled. He leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. Well, that explained a lot.

Sighing deeply, he slapped his thighs and stood. He couldn't hide in his office and he'd be damned if he'd let them make him live in fear. He gathered a few papers on his desk and put them in his backpack, checked to see if he had his keys, then locked his office and left.

The sun was still shining, a rarity in Cascade. He rolled his head back onto his shoulders and breathed in deeply, craned his neck to the side until he heard it pop, then did the same to the other side. His watch beeped and he jogged down the stairs, knowing he only had ten minutes to get to the bus stop.

"Damn," he hissed to himself, when he noticed the rugged build of James Ellison across the street. The guardian pushed himself off the oak he had been leaning against and started forward, but stumbled to a stop while in the middle of the street.

Blair blinked, confused, and looked behind him, seeing nothing but a couple of students playing Frisbee. He looked back at the sentinel and noticed the slack-jawed, blank look on the man's face. His eyes widened as he realized the guardian was zoned, which didn't make any sense. Surely, the sentinel had better control of his senses than that? Where was his guide?

A loud rumbling noise broke through his thoughts and Blair looked up in horror as a garbage truck came barreling down the street toward the frozen man. Without thought, he raced forward, grabbed the man by the waist, and flung him to the ground, praying that his arms weren't splayed too far from his body.

The noise increased as the driver attempted to stop. Noxious fumes surrounded them as the truck ran above them, then screeched to a halt.

The man lying on the ground beside him moaned. Blair pushed himself off the cement, shuddering badly, but catching his balance before he fell. Guardians and guides converged upon them from all directions.

"Alpha!"

"Alpha Prime!"

Blair stumbled back a few steps. Jim Ellison was Alpha Prime of Cascade? He should have known, but he had never bothered to keep up on local guardian politics. The enormity of what he was up against came slamming into him.

Someone touched him. "Are you okay?"

Blair raised his hands in a warding gesture, taking several steps back.

"Sandburg," Ellison raised his voice, shaking his head. "Where's Sandburg?"

"He saved you, sir," one of the young women in the crowd said, pointing toward Blair. "If it hadn't have been for him--"

"I swear I didn't see him," the driver cried out. "I would never have...oh God, I could have..."

Several people turned to calm the obviously distressed man.

Ellison took several steps toward Blair. "We need to go somewhere and talk."

"No, we don't," Blair said, shaking his head. "We don't have to do anything." With that, he turned and fled toward the bus stop.

The next week was a nerve-wracking one for Blair. Everywhere he turned, there was a sentinel. They followed him wherever he went, discreetly, in the distance, but they were always there. When Blair realized they were doing nothing more than keeping an eye on him, he ignored them, although he couldn't quite bring himself to totally forget their presence.

The only time he thought there might be a problem was when several members of the junior varsity football team charged up to him, whooping with glee after he had posted the end-of-semester grades. He could have sworn the sentinels standing watch started forward as if to rescue him, but seemed to quickly take in the situation and kept their stations. He shook his head again as he remembered the incident. Why would they want to protect him?

He looked at the calendar. The full moon would take place in six days; but he wasn't worried, he would be well on his way to New Mexico in two.

Once the grades had been posted and he had wrapped up the loose ends of the teaching portion of his job, he spent a lot of time in his loft, getting it ready for its month's vacancy -- at least, that's what he told himself. When he was honest with himself, he could admit that he was hiding, hiding from the sentinels and what they represented.

A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. With some trepidation, he answered it, only to find himself face-to-face with the blonde woman from the pack.

"Mr. Sandburg? I'm Barbara Talon, of the Panther Pack, also known as the Central Pack."

He braced himself in the doorway. "Yes."

"May I come in?"

"I don't know. Is it anything like allowing a vampire in? Once invited, they can always gain access?"

She chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mirth, before she sobered. "I'm afraid so."

"Then no offense, but no."

She nodded, as if saying she respected his decision, then handed him a folded piece of paper.

"What is it?" he asked, refusing to accept the official looking document.

"It's a Writ of Stay."

"You can't do that."

"But I have."

"There's no matter in front of the court. I haven't been charged with any criminal actions."

She smiled, almost proudly, at him. "You know something of the law?"

"I know enough to know that you can't serve me with a writ without there being litigation of some sort."

"But there is litigation before the court."

"I haven't been served."

"In this particular matter, you don't need to be. It's a guardian tribunal versus a civil court."

"Which means your paper has no power unless I voluntarily submit to it -- and I don't."

"The police recognize the writ, Mr. Sandburg--"

"I don't give a damn--"

"And as most of the police force is comprised of guardians..." She let the thought trail off.

Blair gasped in outrage. "That's blackmail."

The lawyer sighed. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Blair leaned his head on the side of the door, overwhelmed by the helplessness of his situation. "Why won't you people leave me alone?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sandburg, truly I am. But the fact of the matter is, there hasn't been a clan guide in the Northwest in over a century, which is a fairly unusual circumstance in and of itself. It has nothing to do with the power of the guides we have, although we can assume by your little display in the street the other week that you have quite a bit of power. It has to do with the acceptance of the pack, the clan; and in that regard, you have been chosen."

Blair slowly pounded his head against the doorframe until Barbara put her hand between his forehead and the wood. Blair turned to face her, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You're never going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Please understand, we can't."

"But the law..."

"You do have one avenue of escape," she said quietly.

He looked at her, startled.

She closed her eyes, as if debating whether or not to say anything. "We're not heartless beasts, Mr. Sandburg," she whispered, then opened her eyes. "I understand what it means to give up..." She stopped, refusing to elaborate.

"What can I do?"

"You can challenge."

"What-? How-?"

"If you call a challenge, you'll face one sentinel, one-on-one. If you win, you have your freedom and the clan will...the clan will survive as it always has. If the sentinel wins, he or she will become alpha sentinel and you will belong not only to the pack but to the clan as well."

"How can I hope to take on a sentinel?" Blair asked in despair.

"There are no rules in this contest, Mr. Sandburg.

"Why are you telling me this?" he whispered.

Barbara pursed her lips briefly. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Sandburg. Our clan desperately needs a guide's leadership. Our guides, while passionate about what they do, need guidance themselves. Many of them, while talented, got lost in the romance, the idea, of what a guide is and have been unprepared for the stark realities of being a guardian's companion, especially here in Cascade. The clan has been reverting more and more to our shared pasts. The criminals we're facing are becoming more violent, bringing out the guardians' need for a more primal justice. The younger sentinels are refusing guides who they perceive as weak, preferring to go it alone. We've already lost one unbonded sentinel, when the criminals he was chasing figured out how to push him into a zone. Some of the packs are growing wilder. We need someone to rein them in."

"But what do you think I could do?"

"Mr. Sandburg...Blair...everyone in the Panther Pack acknowledges you, hears your soul sing. You could be the force that unites the packs. They'll listen to you. The fact that you held us all off and escaped has raised you to heights reserved for very few."

Blair closed his eyes, shoring up his walls. He couldn't let himself weaken. He couldn't open himself again, knowing he wouldn't survive another...

He shook his head; he wasn't responsible for these people. Had he accepted Jason and Melissa's invitation for dinner, he wouldn't even be in this predicament.

"Very well."

"Very well, what?"

"I issue a challenge to your alpha. We'll do it tomorrow. Just tell me where."

"Tomorrow. We can't possibly be prepared by--"

"Then all bets are off."

"But--"

"Tomorrow. Rainier's football field. Nine in the morning. I expect to be on the road by evening so I don't have a lot of time to fool around. Take it or leave it, Ms. Talon."

"We'll take it."

"Good day, Ms. Talon," Blair said, then shut the door.

He took a ragged breath, shaking as he fought to keep his pent-up emotions under control. Slowly, he banged his head against the wall. He had been so close, only one more day and he would have escaped this living nightmare.

A quiet knock sounded on the door beside him, but he ignored it, losing himself in the pain. A gentle hand cushioned his forehead and guided him to a soft shoulder, while a strong arm wrapped around him, making him feel unaccountably safe.

"Shhhh," Barbara whispered to him when the first sob escaped him. "It'll be okay, I promise."

Barbara Talon dropped her briefcase on the floor as soon as she entered her office and kicked the door shut with her foot. She quickly stripped out of her suit jacket, wadded it up and forcefully threw it in the corner.

A knock sounded at her door, but she ignored it, refusing to look up when her two friends entered, shutting the door behind them.

"How did it go?" Jim Ellison asked quietly.

Barbara didn't look at him. She simply walked around her desk and plopped into her leather chair, reached down to take off her high heels and tossed them violently in the corner. Neither man prodded her further, as if realizing she would speak when she was able.

"When I was fourteen, I wanted to be a singer," she said quietly. "It wasn't just some teeny-bopper dream either. I was good. I even had an agent. Until I hit puberty and these damned senses showed up."

She looked into the concerned faces of her friends. "Don't get me wrong. I love my job. I'm a damn good attorney, even without my senses. I know what I do is important. But damn it..." She looked up at the ceiling, blinking back the angry tears.

"What did he say?" Simon Banks asked gently, easing himself into a chair in front of her desk.

She ignored his question. "I did a little research on our Mr. Sandburg. Would you care to venture what I found?"

Jim shrugged. "He was a child genius, is considered to be an expert on closed societies, is the youngest Professor in the history of Rainier, that--"

"He was murdered by a sentinel."

"What?" both men exclaimed, sitting forward in their chairs.

Barbara placed both hands over her face and took a deep breath, letting it go slowly before she removed her hands and looked at her friends.

"He was admitted to Harvard at the age of sixteen. Almost immediately, he met a young woman named Alex Barnes, a sentinel very new to her powers, who told him that he was a guide and she was claiming him."

"But guides have to be eighteen..." Simon trailed off as Barbara stared at him.

"He was smitten and didn't even think twice about what she had told him. He studied hard and they spent nearly every waking minute together. But apparently, Alex was unstable, and began accusing him of trying to bond with other sentinels. We can only assume by what we know now that his soul is one that calls out to others. However, no one on the East Coast seemed to understand who or what he was. Sandburg was devastated and assured her he wasn't, even got them into pairs counseling."

Barbara stood up, walked to her door, picked up her briefcase and returned to her desk. She carelessly dropped it onto the desk and violently opened it.

"The counselor immediately realized that Alex was unstable and went to the clan for assistance. Somehow Alex discovered what was going on and became convinced Sandburg had betrayed her. She drowned him in a fountain on campus."

Simon gasped in horror. "My God."

"There happened to be a Navaho shaman on campus who was giving a series of seminars. He was able to revive Sandburg. We can only assume that this man was the one who taught Sandburg how to use his shaman powers." Barbara threw two manila folders on the desk, one in front of each man.

"Alex was caught and put in a clan facility, where she later died." She watched silently for a moment as the men scanned the news stories.

"Not only are we asking this young man to give up all of his hopes and dreams, but we're asking him to give himself over to the clan, to be responsible for more than one sentinel. We're asking him to do the very thing he was accused of, the thing that got him murdered."

Barbara watched the stunned faces of the men in front of her.

"He told you this?" Simon asked quietly.

Barbara shook her head. "No. I was curious about his reluctance so I did a little research."

Jim looked incredibly sad. "What did he say?"

"He issued a challenge to you, Jim, as the clan alpha, to meet him at Rainier's football stadium at nine tomorrow morning. He says he has places to go tomorrow night, and I believe him. He looked like he was getting ready to go on a trip."

"We can't--" Jim started.

Simon shook his head. "We don't have any choice, Jim. If we don't control this, he'll be hunted by every unbonded sentinel hoping to become the city's alpha."

Barbara sat in her chair with a thump. "As much as I hate to agree, Simon has a point. The only way to save him is for you to beat him."

"To beat a shaman?" Jim asked incredulously.

"If you don't, we may be facing a frenzy," Barbara said quietly.

"No." Jim shook his head. "It's not that bad yet."

"What will happen to him if you're wrong?" Barbara asked softly.

A frenzy. Jim Ellison shook his head as he walked the moonlit streets of Cascade. He had told Barbara that it wasn't that bad yet, but deep down he knew better. Wasn't that what happened to April, the young woman who had been found a few months back? April had been open to being a guide, had wanted to find a soulmate. She was lovely to look upon, and even had a certain amount of strength, but she had been unprepared for the raw emotions which had washed over her as three young men had tried to gain her attention at the same time.

Jim opened the door to the apartment building and climbed the steps. What would happen to Sandburg when dozens did the same thing to him?

He knew Barbara was right. Sandburg was only walking the streets unharassed at the moment because everyone was looking to the council for their response, looking to him. Nothing could save the young man now. He would either be the clan guide and face the demons of his past, or he would face a lifetime of fighting off sentinels. Jim didn't even want to contemplate what would happen if he lost to Sandburg in the morning. The kid would never make it out of the stadium.

He opened the door to the roof and stepped out, inhaling deeply of the night air. Yes, a frenzy was exactly what would happen.

Sometimes he really hated his job. It wasn't that he necessarily wanted to be alpha. It's just that he couldn't tolerate bullshit and the only way to prevent that from happening was to take charge.

He had been skeptical at first, when his pack had reported how the kid's soul had sung to them. But sitting at the back of the classroom, Jim finally understood what it meant to be destined for someone. Carolyn had been an adequate guide, but she had been caught up in the romance of the title. Even though she was a brilliant forensic scientist in her own right, she hadn't truly understood what it meant to be a guide to a guardian, to be a guide to an alpha. Oh, she liked the social status of the position fine, but she didn't much care for the nitty-gritty.

The divorce had been a mutual decision. His asking her to leave Cascade... not so mutual. He had been unbonded for nearly a year.

He was beginning to think true bonds were nothing but fairy tales. What would it mean to be so connected with someone that you would literally die if they were to pass away? To know you were one entity in two separate bodies?

He shook his head. Sentimental hogwash.

Although, if he were honest with himself, he knew he was being overly cynical. He knew several pairs who were true bonds. However, he had accepted the fact long ago that a true bond would never happen for him... that was until he met Sandburg, until he had sat at the back of the classroom and let the guide's voice wash over him. Never, since coming into his gifts, had he felt so safe, so relaxed, so at peace.

Something clicked in Jim's soul and he knew he would never be complete unless he had this young man walking by his side through life.

Jim looked down through the skylight at the sleeping young man in question. So much rested on this guide's shoulders. But even that seemed unimportant at the moment. All Jim wanted to do was wrap the boy up and keep him safe, safe from the world, safe from the guardians, safe from Jim himself.

Jim rolled his head back on his shoulders. What in God's name was he going to do?

"Great, just great," Blair muttered to himself as he hit the steering wheel of his car in frustration. "Nothing like calling a friggin challenge then being late `cause you can't find a damn parking space."

Why in the hell was Rainier so crowded anyway? It should be practically deserted with all the students gone.

A sentinel walked slowly in front of his car and pointed to the front of the parking lot.

Blair nodded, understanding coming to him in an instant. Of course. The challenge. The whole city would be watching. Hell, it was probably going to be broadcast on ESPN.

He nodded in acknowledgment and eased the Corvair to where he was directed. Another sentinel stepped out of a parking space as he neared the stadium and indicated that this was the spot in which he should leave his car.

He shook his head with some amusement as he did as instructed. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he sat back and leaned his head against the seat behind him.

Was he really going to do this?

Of course he was.

He sighed deeply. No matter what the outcome of the challenge was, he realized there was little chance of actually going to New Mexico. He had even gone so far as to call Joseph, to let his mentor know he wouldn't be coming down.

//I know, son. I've taught you everything I could. You stand before your destiny. Choose wisely and follow your heart.//

Well, wasn't that just a cryptic piece of advice?

He got out of the car and pocketed his keys, trying not to let the noise of the stadium unnerve him.

People on the sidewalk made room for him, respectfully nodding their heads and murmuring "Guide Sandburg" as he passed. A part of him wanted to rail at them, to scream that nothing was set in stone yet, but he remained quiet.

He stopped at the beginning of the tunnel that would lead him into the stadium. The people behind him stopped as well, remaining a respectful distance. He ignored them, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. As he blew out the breath, all noise in the stadium ceased.

Wasn't that interesting?

He took another deep breath. Nothing like having hundreds of people know you were steeling yourself for an upcoming confrontation. He snorted in amusement. Shaking his head, he moved forward.

Stepping out into the sunlight, he immediately reassessed his original number. It wasn't hundreds, it was thousands. People sat and stood in every conceivable space, and even covered half the football field itself. He wondered briefly if the cement structure surrounding him was strong enough to handle the weight stress. He immediately noticed the television cameras pointing in his direction. Hell, they really were televising the challenge.

Looking onto the field, he noticed Barbara waiting for him. As was Ellison.

He took another breath, then closed the distance between them. Barbara stepped forward to greet him, hugging him gently and giving him an encouraging smile before stepping back.

"Blair Sandburg," she said in a normal tone of voice, "Have you come here of your own free will?"

"I have," he answered just as quietly, knowing that practically every soul in the stadium could hear him.

"Have you issued a challenge to our alpha and agreed to abide by the outcome?"

"I have."

"There are no rules, Blair. We simply ask that you keep any magics you use contained, if you can, as we have a lot of people on the field."

"I'll try."

"Very well. Let the challenge begin," she said softly, then turned and walked briskly from the field.

Blair raised his chin defiantly and looked steadily at Ellison, not quite sure what to expect.

Ellison smiled at him, almost proudly. "I am alpha sentinel of Cascade," he stated simply.

"I know."

"I hear your soul sing to mine, Blair Sandburg."

"So you've said before."

"As your soul sings to many in this stadium."

Blair tried to shrug indifferently.

"We know about Alex."

"What?" Blair gasped, horrified.

"We now understand your reluctance to join us."

Blair shook his head, shocked by the small whimper which escaped his throat.

"We applaud the courage it took not only to issue the challenge, but to face us, knowing this wouldn't be a private affair."

Blair cleared his throat, trying to go for casual. "I'm not sure 'knowing' is correct. More like hoping it might just be between the two of us."

The stadium resounded with gentle chuckling.

"We will be honored to have such a brave man guide us."

"Nothing has been determined yet," Blair said angrily.

Jim smiled at him again, then turned to face those in the stadium. "Knowing what you know of this man, do you wish for him to guide you, to guide us?"

"Yes." The stadium shook with their response.

"Will you honor him? Listen to him? Protect him? Accept him as part of the clan?"

"Yes," the stadium spoke in one voice.

"Will you submit to his will, his word?"

The answer was almost reverent. "Yes."

Jim turned to face him. "So be it."

Blair ran a hand over his mouth and chin, realizing the challenge was about to begin. He braced himself as Jim closed the distance between them, and blinked in disbelief when the sentinel stopped before him, dropped to his knees and rolled his head back on his shoulders, exposing his throat.

Blair's shocked gasp echoed around the field. He looked around the stadium, almost in terror, watching as the crowd unconsciously mimicked the action of their leader.

"What in the hell are you doing, man?" Blair asked, embarrassed by the quiet display.

"We can't force you, nor even ask you, to submit, not after everything you've been through, so that only leaves one recourse," Jim explained, lifting his head, but not getting to his feet.

"There are actually two options," Blair pointed out.

Jim nodded. "Yes, I suppose there are."

"So, you're saying you'll let me go?"

Jim swallowed hard. "Yes."

Blair nodded, then took several steps back, trying to convince himself to turn and run. He didn't owe these people anything, especially after Alex.

Ellison watched him, his face impassive.

Blair looked at the spectators surrounding him. Their silent encouragement was practically a living entity, surrounding him, promising to keep him safe. Their faces were kind, seeming to understand his reluctance.

He steeled his nerve, lifting his head defiantly. So, they'd understand his refusal as well. He turned and took several more steps away from Ellison, but his feet slowed, almost by their own volition.

If Joseph had taught him anything, it was that as a shaman he couldn't leave these people bereft of guidance.

Damn Ellison.

And damn the clan that needed him.

He turned to face Ellison. "Get up," he demanded, his voice raw with emotion.

"I won't force you, Sandburg," Jim said, remaining on his knees.

Blair sighed, rubbing one hand over his left eye. "And I won't ask you to enter a partnership as anything but an equal."

The crowd gasped as his meaning became clear.

Ellison smiled shyly at him. Blair returned the smile and shook his head in exasperation. He was losing his mind. That's what it was. Clear and simple. He moved back toward the kneeling man and held out his hand.

Jim accepted the assistance in gaining his feet. Slowly, as if he were afraid that Blair would run, he closed the distance between them, then lowered his head and sniffed at the juncture of Blair's neck and shoulder. Blair shuddered, tingling with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, as Jim tasted him.

Blair's breathing quickened when he realized there was no going back. Good, bad or indifferent, he was about to bind his soul to this man. He looked at the sentinel before him, reminding himself that this man was an alpha, a trusted and respected leader.

He wasn't Alex.

Jim seemed to understand his fear. He took a step back and cupped Blair's face in the palm of his hands. His light blue eyes burned Blair with their intensity. "Come inside, Blair. Make us one, two hearts beating in unison, two minds entwined, two bodies - one spirit."

Blair swallowed hard and nodded. To belong again. To be one. His hands trembled as he lifted them, placing one on Jim's forehead and the other over Jim's heart. He closed his eyes, but his mental walls wouldn't lower.

"Relax, my soul," Jim murmured quietly.

Blair's breathing turned to shallow pants. "I can't." He tried to take a step backward, but Jim held him tight against his chest.

"Yes, you can, Blair."

"I'm sorry," he cried out.

"Shh, babe," Jim whispered soothingly. "You've built your walls thick over the years to protect yourself, to keep yourself hidden from those who didn't understand or appreciate who you are, and you were right to do so. But I'm here to protect you now. You won't fall, I'll catch you."

Blair leaned his head back on his shoulders and leaned his upper body away from Jim, feeling Jim's strong arms support his lower back.

"I know you've been lonely," Jim whispered.

"Yes," Blair acknowledged, not straightening, his voice shaking.

"You've longed to be joined again."

"No."

"No?"

Blair blinked, looking up at the blueness of the sky. Had he wanted to be joined? He remembered how he felt those first few weeks after Alex had claimed him. The sense of belonging, of being a part of something bigger than himself, had given his life a meaning it never had before. He especially remembered the warmth.

His soul had been cold for so long.

"Yes," he finally admitted in a whisper.

"And you've been angry at Alex for making you afraid."

"Yes," Blair said, feeling the anger build within him. He'd been hiding for so long, afraid of attracting another sentinel, afraid of being rejected again.

"Let it out, babe. Let it all out," Jim crooned encouragingly.

Blair felt it bubble within him. The rage. The sorrow. The loneliness. The humiliation. The coldness. His hands clenched Jim's shoulders. The wail started small but built to a crescendo as he screamed out all of his frustration and anger. He could feel his lungs burn with the need to breathe, felt his throat stretching, vibrating, almost bleeding with the intensity of the emotions burning through him. And through it all, he felt Jim's arms holding him, their hips braced together.

When he was spent, simply hanging in his sentinel's arms, he felt Jim bring him back to his chest, tucking him under the bigger man's chin.

Blair shuddered against him, the released emotions leaving him shaky. After a few minutes, he sniffed and looked up into the older man's face, surprised by the love he found there. Not pity. Not lust. Not greed. Just pride and a simple love.

Again, he reached out and put his hands over the taller man's chest and forehead. Jim leaned forward and brushed his warm lips over Blair's, and Blair latched onto them as if they were his sole means of support. He slipped quietly into the corridors of Jim's mind, feeling the sentinel welcome him with joy.

Hesitantly, he opened his own mind and felt Jim's warm presence slowly slip in. He opened his eyes, startled, when Jim slipped back out.

The sentinel was looking down at him with such longing that it took his breath away. "When we get home," he mouthed against Blair's lips.

Blair nodded his understanding, remembering they had an audience.

Jim brought him close again, hugging him tight. Blair absorbed the sentinel's warmth, feeling it heat all the cold places in his body and soul. After several minutes, he let out a deep breath and shuddered once.

"You ready to finish this?" Jim asked softly by his ear.

Blair nodded. Raising his head, he smiled shyly when Jim brushed his lips over Blair's once again.

The crowd around them sighed happily.

Blair wiped the tears from his eyes, then turned to face the crowd, his back pressed tightly to Jim's chest, feeling Jim's arms wrap around his stomach from behind.

Simon and Barbara moved toward them, both knelt on one knee and said quietly, "We submit to the will of the clan guide." They quickly rose and closed the distance between them. Jim took a small step back and allowed his friends to sniff Blair. When they were done, another group stepped forward. Blair leaned unconsciously back into Jim's chest.

Dear God, he prayed, please don't let me be sniffed by everyone in the stadium.

Blair closed his eyes and wearily laid the side of his face and both arms over the vinyl top of his Corvair. Who would have guessed that one could be sniffed by thousands of people in less than eight hours? Not only was he physically exhausted, but he also felt exposed in a way he had never been before. What did it mean to be imprinted by so many sentinels?

He knew, without question, that he would never be alone again. While a part of him was warmed by that feeling, another part just shook its head in dismay. As an anthropologist, he was used to sitting on the sidelines and quietly observing, not getting involved; but he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his life on the sidelines was now a thing of the past.

"Keys?" a warm voice asked near his ear.

He shifted slightly and fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the requested items. The keys were gently taken from him and he was guided down the car a few feet. He could hear the key being inserted in the lock and the car door open, but he couldn't find the energy to watch or care. Hands tenderly guided him into the car; his feet were lifted and his own hands placed on his lap.

A part of his mind whispered that he should ask where they were going, but before he could gather the energy to vocalize the thought, he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine.

Blair woke from a sound sleep and blinked at the digital alarm clock sitting by the side of the bed. It read eight o'clock.

Crap, he had to be at the stadium in an hour. He sat up abruptly, throwing the blankets off his legs. The sudden movement made his head throb and he grabbed his head and groaned.

Fingers gently touched his back and he leapt forward, gasping in surprise. He spun around, hand over his heart, and spotted the sentinel from his dream.

He shook his head and groaned again.

Not a dream.

It had actually happened.

He had bonded with the alpha sentinel of Cascade.

Jim looked at him curiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm...I'm...home." Blair blinked in surprise, the full effect of the statement stunning him.

Amusement colored Jim's tone, "Why yes, you are."

"Why?"

"Why?"

Blair nodded.

"Because...you live here?" Jim's voice was curious, as if he weren't sure what answer Blair wanted.

"I thought..."

"That we'd go to my place?"

"Yes," Blair whispered.

"I thought it would be better to come here instead. I thought you'd relax more in your own home."

Blair could see the logic in that thought. "So how long do I have to move?"

"Move?"

"I..." Blair waved his hand around, but seemed unable to say anything more.

"Oh," Jim said quietly. "I was thinking maybe I could move in here."

"Why?"

Jim laughed. "You remind me of my six-year-old niece with all your questions." Jim raised his hand to stop Blair's protest. "Because your place is a lot nicer. Because I think you'd be more comfortable here. Because I'm not Alex. I don't expect you to give up your life for me. I think we can integrate our schedules and our lives without you losing who you are."

Blair blinked, and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear with his thumb. He didn't have to move. "Okay." He smiled shyly at Jim. "I...uh...I need a shower. I feel sort of..."

"Sniffed?"

Blair chuckled. "Yeah, something like that."

Jim made shooing motions with his hands and Blair smiled at him, then jogged down the stairs to the bathroom.

He had a sentinel. One who apparently didn't want to control every aspect of his life. Maybe...maybe this would work.

Jim waited until the shower started before he sat up in bed. Sandburg was as skittish as a colt. Not that he blamed the kid. He had held himself with quite a bit of dignity during the whole challenge and the ceremony afterward. However, Jim knew that the hard part had yet to happen.

It was obvious the kid had a headache, and if what his true bond friends told him was true, it would only get worse until they physically bonded.

Was Sandburg ready for that?

He snorted with exasperated amusement. If he thought Sandburg was skittish now...

Jim shook his head. He knew there was no social stigma against same-sex bonded pairs but he didn't have a clue as to what Sandburg's thoughts were on the subject. Would the kid be okay with the physical bonding aspect of their relationship or was he going to freak out?

Jim rubbed both hands over his face. As alpha guide the kid really didn't have much choice where this relationship was heading. Jim just hoped he was patient enough to guide the guide through the remaining steps.

Jim stood. One way or the other, it was time to get ready.

Blair wrapped one towel around his waist and swung another towel over his shoulders. Physically, he felt much better, but was surprised that his headache hadn't lessened under the hot water.

He opened the medicine cabinet, but couldn't find any aspirin. He closed his eyes, trying to remember if he had stashed the bottle somewhere else or if he was really out. He had a vague memory from several weeks before of taking a couple of pills in the kitchen.

He opened the bathroom door, padded quietly into the kitchen and found the missing medicine.

"They're not going to help, Chief," a warm voice said from behind him.

"Why not?" he asked, opening the bottle.

"Your head hurts because we haven't finished the bond."

Blair stopped, two pills in his hand. "Didn't we bond at the field?"

"We did an initial bond, which marked us as a pair, so those pledging fealty would know where we stood, but we aren't done yet."

"You...you didn't come in," Blair said quietly, remembering. "Why not?"

Blair backed against the counter as Jim stalked forward. When had Jim changed into one of his old bathrobes? "Because I knew if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. The need to be claimed by you, and to claim you, was overwhelming. I... didn't figure you wanted an audience for what should be a private exchange."

Blair put the bottle and pills on the counter behind him, although his eyes never left Jim's. "So what do we need to do?"

Jim raised his hands and gently cupped Blair's cheeks. Blair was mesmerized by the lips slowly moving toward his. Swallowing hard, he leaned forward and met them. Jim growled in approval, while his hands moved up Blair's back and into his hair. Blair lost himself in the sensation for several moments, reveling in the warmth and the strength of the man before him. However, when Jim's hands reached for the towel around his hips, he abruptly broke the kiss and stepped back, out of reach.

Jim blinked at him as if confused. "Wha-what?"

Blair held up one hand in apology and shook his head, while the other hand tightly clenched his towel to keep it in place. "Sorry," he whispered, then turned and bolted for the stairs. He swayed once he reached the top, his headache growing in magnitude. He stumbled to the bed and sat on the edge, holding his head, trying not to whimper in pain.

Gentle hands slowly massaged his temples. He didn't attempt to pull away, knowing there was nowhere to go. "I never got headaches with...with..."

Jim cut him off by tenderly placing a finger over his lips. "You don't ever have to say her name again." Blair nodded, but closed his eyes as the pain flared. "You didn't have a true bond with her."

"A true bond?"

"You understand that almost any guide and sentinel can be paired together and function, right?"

"Yes," Blair whispered, afraid to nod.

"Occasionally, a true bond is formed, where two souls that have been destined for each other meet and merge. Their bond is stronger than other bonds. They become life mates, soulmates."

"And you think we have a true bond?"

Jim nodded. "Yes. I have a couple of friends who have true bonded. They've told me the headaches happen when they're apart too long."

Blair just sighed sadly.

"What did she do?" Jim asked intently.

Blair started to shake his head, but stopped as the pressure grew.

"You haven't been with anyone, have you? Since her? You've been afraid to open yourself to anyone else who could hurt you," Jim stated, rather than asked.

Blair closed his eyes, not wanting to see Jim's face, not wanting to see the pity he knew would be there. He heard Jim stand, and almost breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe he could get some sleep, surely his head would feel better after some more rest.

His eyes flew open, however, when he felt Jim lift and place him in the center of the bed.

"Let me remove her touch," Jim whispered, covering Blair's body with his own. "Let me show you what a true bond can mean." Jim's lips nuzzled at his neck, his hands wandering up and down Blair's chest. "This just fascinates me," Jim murmured, his fingers toying with Blair's nipple ring. Blair's body arched upward. "So responsive," Jim purred. "And mine, only mine."

Blair tried to look up at the man above him, but the haze of pleasure made it hard to focus.

"I won't tolerate anyone else," Jim informed him, tweaking the ring again. "You will serve the clan, but your body belongs only to me."

Blair arched again, his hands clenching and unclenching on Jim's shoulders.

"Come in, babe," Jim whispered huskily into his ear. Blair felt his consciousness slide effortlessly into Jim's warmth, heard the joyous laughter of welcome from a man he had rarely seen smile.

Tentatively, Blair opened himself to his sentinel. He could feel Jim enter slowly, ready to pull out if Blair showed any distress. The tenderness touched him deeply. Blair gasped when Jim was finally in, surprised at the rightness of the feeling, knowing that he would never truly be alone again, would always be part of a whole, would always have someone to care about, would always have someone who cared about him.

The eroticism of the bond surprised him. He felt as if Jim surrounded him, as if the sentinel was melding into every aspect of him. He rode the waves of pleasure, surging and withdrawing, only to surge again.

He heard Jim gasp and opened his eyes, only to find the sentinel fully impaled on him. Jim's face was contorted with pleasure, his body undulating above him. Blair's hands reached up and lightly scratched the rock hard chest above him, grinning as the sentinel threw his head back, even as his body arched into Blair's hands. Blair soothed the skin, then scratched Jim's hips, plunging deeper and deeper into Jim's subconscious, while his body was thrusting harder and harder upward. The joint sensation of body and soul was too much and Blair thrust upward, screaming his release. He was cognizant of Jim's cry joining his own, then lost himself in the swirling warmth of emotions that was their connection.

Jim awoke, realizing he was lying on top of his smaller companion. He tried to move, but the arms around his waist tightened. The unconscious possessive gesture made him smile. Rearing back a bit, he noted that the pain lines around the younger man's eyes had lessened considerably, to the point of being practically nonexistent.

He ran one hand over his face, and shook his head in amazement. He had heard that true bonds were intense, but nothing could have possibly prepared him for the strength or the passion of such a bond. Blair Sandburg, whether he realized it or not, was now fully committed. Jim suspected his guide would fight the bonds for a while, testing the limitations, and Jim resolved to let him.

Alex had damaged his guide in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom. While Blair had let him in, had let him explore the corridors of his mind, there were still areas where Jim knew he didn't have access. If Alex were alive, he would hunt her down and destroy her for her sins.

A gentle hand touched his face and he looked down into the passion-soft eyes of his mate.

"You're frowning," the sleepy man beneath him observed.

"I'm sorry, babe. I was just thinking."

Blair smiled up at him and Jim was warmed by the brilliance of the expression.

"Then you need to stop."

Jim frowned slightly in confusion. "Stop what?"

Blair chuckled. "Thinking." With one hand, he pulled Jim down and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

Jim lost himself in the kiss, feeling his body start to stir again, feeling their connection sing in want. "You're going to age me before my time."

"You're not that ancient, old man."

Jim widened his eyes in mock-rage, and sighed inwardly with relief when he saw the laughter bubbling in his companion's eyes. "Old man? Old man? I'll show you old man."

Blair wrapped one leg around Jim's waist and thrust upward once. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

Jim's eyes widened in surprise as he realized what his guide was suggesting. "But...but...you haven't...I mean..."

Blair's eyelids drooped in hooded passion. "Equals in all things, sentinel."

Jim sent up prayers of thanks in every language he knew, even as he leaned down and consumed the mouth beneath his, and raised Blair's knees upward.

Jim moved into the kitchen as his guide was putting the finishing touches on their breakfast. "Still sore?" Jim asked, coming up behind his companion and gently cupping the jean-clad rear end.

"Only a twinge," Blair hastened to reassure him as he turned and stood on his toes to gently kiss Jim's lips.

Jim hugged his guide tight, then reached around him and plucked a peeled orange slice from one of the plates.

"Hey!" Blair laughed, turning quickly, trying to save the rest of his breakfast.

Jim snickered, his arms still around Blair, keeping the younger man's hands from reaching the plate.

Blair leaned back into the arms encasing him. "So what do you have planned for today?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

"But...I thought...that is to say..."

"Sandburg," Jim growled affectionately. "What am I going to do with you?"

Blair turned in his arms and looked up at him. "What?"

"How many times do I have to tell you this is a partnership?"

"I understand that, Jim. Honestly, I do."

"But?"

Blair blushed, but didn't speak.

Jim gently caught and held Blair's chin, until his guide raised his gaze. "You had a month's sabbatical planned, right?"

Blair nodded.

"I can't take off a whole month, but maybe we can arrange for a week in a week or so. Would that work?"

Blair's eyes grew huge. "Do you mean that, Jim?"

"Yeah. Even alphas get to take vacation." Jim 'oof'ed' quietly when Blair threw his arms around him and squeezed tight. Jim returned the hug with equal vigor. "So are you going to feed this poor starving sentinel or what?" Jim asked with a laugh.

Blair released him and rolled his gaze heavenward, pushing him toward the table, then turned back to get their plates.

"School isn't in session at the moment, right?" Jim asked, as he sat and accepted the plate Blair handed him.

"Yeah, but since I'm in town there's really a meeting I should attend today," Blair said quietly, sitting at the table, but not looking at Jim.

Jim ate a forkful of eggs. "So go."

Blair blinked up at him, his fork hanging suspended between his plate and his mouth.

Jim shook his head. "Look, Sandburg, we better just get this all out on the table now. How many classes are you supposed to teach this fall?"

Blair lowered his fork to his plate. "Four."

"And when you're not in class or having office hours, you can probably come down to the station and help me out, right?" Jim took a bite of toast.

"Yeah. That shouldn't be a problem. But what about the guide of the clan thing?"

Jim shrugged. "We'll just take that one step at a time. There hasn't been a clan guide for over a century. There aren't any hard and fast rules about what they're supposed to do, so we'll just play it by ear."

"So you don't mind my teaching?"

Jim frowned. "Didn't I just say as much?"

"But...but..."

Jim reached over and took his guide's hand in his own. "I'm not Alex, Blair."

"I know that, Jim. I'm not trying to--"

Jim leaned over and cut his guide off with a gentle kiss. "You look like a pretty go-with-the-flow kind of guy."

"Well, I am, sort of."

"So flow already, would ya?"

Blair chuckled, then leaned forward and kissed Jim, before sitting back. "Okay. I can do flowing."

"I thought you could. So what's the plan for today?"

"Well, I'll go to the meeting, then head down to the precinct. Would that work?"

"If you shoot for noon, I'll take you out to lunch."

Blair grinned brilliantly at him. "Deal."

"So it is a true bond?" Simon asked, sitting in his big leather chair behind his desk, steepling his fingers.

"Yes, sir."

"That...that's just amazing, Jim. Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"I have to admit though, I'm a little surprised he isn't with you at the moment."

Jim leaned back in his chair. "Sandburg went through an incredibly traumatic experience with Alex, sir. He had repressed everything so thoroughly that if you had asked him a month ago why he didn't want to be a guide, I honestly believe he wouldn't have been able to tell you. The whole challenge brought everything to the forefront, forced him to confront the demons he had stuffed deep within himself. Emotionally, he's very fragile at the moment. He keeps expecting me to yank the rug out from underneath him." Jim rubbed both hands over his face. "I think it's important to let him have control for a while and that means letting him set the pace. Once we've established a routine, I think he'll feel a lot better."

"Who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?" Simon chuckled, shaking his head.

Jim smiled, dropping his hands into his lap. "I don't know how to explain it, Simon. Others have told me before that having a guide changes your perceptions of the world. But with Carolyn...well, we won't go there. There's just something about the kid that makes me want to--"

"Wrap him up and keep him safe," Simon said, knowingly.

Jim nodded, almost sheepishly. "Is that how it was between you and Joan?"

Simon nodded. "Although we weren't a true bond. However, we had a closer bond than a lot of other pairs."

"You still miss her, don't you?"

"Her death was hard. I wasn't sure I was going to survive," Simon said soberly. "But at least I have Daryl."

"Have you ever thought about rebonding?"

Simon shuddered. "No." Then he paused. "Well, I hadn't until that night on the street."

"Sandburg?" Jim asked in surprise.

The captain nodded. "The urge to take him was so great, Jim. As it was for all of us." Simon pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "All I can say is that I'm eternally grateful he escaped. I know what I, personally, was capable of at that moment. The frenzy would have been...ugly. The trauma to him, knowing what we know now, probably would've broken him spiritually, emotionally and mentally. There's a chance it could have even killed him." Simon shuddered at the thought of how bad it could have been, then looked up at his head detective. "So when can we expect him at the station?"

A knock at the door interrupted Jim's response.

The captain frowned, but called out, "Come."

David Berman, one of the patrol guardians who had been assigned to watch over the alpha guide, stepped into the office looking wet and distinctly unhappy.

Jim was instantly on his feet. "Where's Sandburg?"

"He's safe, Alpha. Jackson has the watch at the moment," Berman said, raising his hands to calm the two men in front of him.

"Report!" Simon demanded as he walked around the desk and stood next to Jim.

"Yes, sir. But before I do, I'd like to request a new assignment."

"What?" the captain barked. "Berman, you've only been on the case for four hours and already you're asking for reassignment?"

"No disrespect, sir, but the kid is a trouble magnet," the young man protested.

Jim growled unhappily. "I think you'd better explain."

The patrol officer swallowed hard, but nodded. "He got to the university with no problem and attended his meeting. On the way out of Hargrove Hall, he tripped down the cement stairs. I swear to God, I saw my whole life flash before my eyes, sirs. If Jackson hadn't have been at the bottom of the stairs..."

"Was he harmed?" Jim asked, his eyes wide with panic.

"Sandburg or Jackson, sir?"

"What?" Simon barked out, startled.

Berman's chest heaved in a silent laugh. "Jackson caught him, sir. There isn't a scratch on the guide. However, Jackson is probably going to be limping for the next few days."

"Go on," Jim urged.

"So the kid gets in his car and starts driving here. He mentioned something about getting here by noon to have lunch with you, sir," the officer said, looking at Jim. When Jim nodded, he continued, "But there was a little girl in the street and Sandburg pulled his car over to get her onto the sidewalk."

Both Jim and Simon smiled -- a true guide at work.

"It seems her kitten had fallen down the storm drain. Before either Jackson or I could get out of our car, Sandburg squeezed down the drain into the sewer."

The smile disappeared from both men's faces.

"He apparently found the kitten right away and was in the process of handing it up to the little girl by the time we got there." Berman sighed heavily. "What the little girl failed to mention was that her older brother had gone down into the sewer to look for the kitten. Apparently, once down there, he got distracted. Sandburg heard him and went after him." Berman ran both of his hands through his short-cropped hair. "Neither Jackson nor I could fit through the drain so we had to find a manhole."

"Go on," Simon encouraged when the young man hesitated.

"We had just gotten the lid off when we heard screams and shouts from below." Berman grew pale. "I damn near twisted off my leg jumping into the sewer. And do you have any idea for what?" The officer was growing distinctly unhappier. "Do you?"

The captain and the detective shook their heads.

"The damn kid had found an alligator."

"A what?" Jim shouted in dismay.

"A six-fucking-foot alligator. Apparently, little Tommy tripped over it while he was exploring, which, of course, didn't make the gator too happy. Well, actually, it made it ecstatic. It figured it didn't have to go looking for lunch since lunch decided to stop by." Berman began to limp back and forth, his hands gesturing wildly in the air. "And do you know where Sandburg was when we found him? He was braced around a ladder, holding the damn thing by its tail, with the kid desperately trying to move the manhole cover above them. When we got there, he yells, 'Call Animal Control. There's no way I'm letting this guy go.' Apparently, Sandburg had a theory that the rash of disappearing pets could be traced back to the lizard. And before you ask; no, he wasn't hurt. Although the gator ripped the crap out of the pants of the guy from Animal Control."

"So where's Sandburg now?" Simon asked quietly.

"Jackson took him home to get cleaned up. Jackson...Jackson thought maybe I should take a break." The young man stopped his pacing, although his whole body was trembling. "I know it's only been four hours, but I know, just know, down to the cellular level of my being, that this is the way it's going to be from now on. And I just can't take it, sir, I just can't."

"He's an anthropology professor for Christ's sake," Jim said, scoffing at the younger man. "How hard can it be to watch him?"

Berman shook his head furiously. "You remember Murphy's guide, don't you, sir? I'm telling you, Sandburg makes her look calm by comparison, and Murphy quit patrol and went into administration to protect her. I'm telling you, sir, you better keep Sandburg on a leash. A short one."

Jim frowned angrily. "You were at the stadium two days ago, weren't you, Berman? You know what the kid's been through."

The patrol officer didn't back down. "I know, sir. Believe me, I know. And if Barnes was alive, I'd join the line to take her down, but Sandburg's a clan guide. Every sentinel in Cascade is programmed to keep him safe. How many people have to get hurt before you see the truth of my words? I know you want him to have a life but sometimes what we want isn't practical."

Jim swallowed the urge to shout at the young upstart. "So you're saying I should keep Sandburg from teaching, force him to stay by my side, make him stay with me 24/7?"

A small gasp caused the three sentinels in the room to spin and face the intruder. Blair Sandburg stood, pale and trembling, in the doorway. "You lied," he barely breathed.

"No," Jim protested.

"You aren't any different than she was," Blair whispered harshly, his eyes burning with betrayal.

"Sandburg," Jim started, but stilled when his guide took a step backward. "Blair, let me explain."

Blair just shook his head and took another step back. "I can't believe I trusted you." He swallowed hard. "You sentinels are all the same." With that, he spun around and ran.

"I NEED A LOCKDOWN AND I NEED IT NOW!" Simon yelled as the guide fled the bullpen.

Blair ran blindly to the stairwell. He had heard the captain's bellow and knew he'd never get out of the building -- knew there was no escape, so he ran up instead of down.

An unexpected calm surrounded him when he reached the gravel roof. He moved quickly to the brick barrier and hopped up at the same time he heard the door flung open.

"NO!" he heard Jim shout, but ignored the sentinel as he walked toward the corner of the building. "Sandburg!"

"Stay back, Jim," he warned quietly, concentrating on putting one foot in front of another.

"Blair, please look at me."

Blair ignored him until he was at the corner; then, with one foot braced on the south wall and one on the west wall, he turned and looked down into the fear-filled eyes of his sentinel.

"I need you to come down, babe," Jim said quietly, trying to keep his voice from quavering.

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yeah, why? 'Cause I gotta tell you, Jim, I'm not seeing a lot of good reasons to come down. You told me you were different. You told me you didn't want me to give up my life; you just wanted me to try to integrate you and your world into mine, and I was willing to do that. I was. And here we are, the first day out in the real world and you're already talking about reneging on your promise."

Blair's head throbbed with pain.

"You have another headache, don't you?" the sentinel asked.

Blair snorted in silent amusement and shook his head. "Way to keep on topic here, Jim."

"You need to bond," Jim continued on his seemingly unconnected tangent.

"What I need is my freedom!" Blair shouted back.

"Did you know it's impossible to lie while bonding?"

"So?"

"So, I need you to come down and bond with me."

Blair looked at him with disgust.

Jim took a deep breath and released it slowly. "How many times have you walked into the middle of a conversation and thought 'whoa, what in the hell are they talking about'?"

Blair remained silent, but felt his anger soften ever so slightly.

"I'd like to have the opportunity to tell you about the conversation you walked in on while we bond." When Blair remained silent, Jim tried again. "I've been told by my true bond friends that the first week or so after the initial bond is extremely hard on the guide emotionally."

"So you're saying I'm a hysterical basket case?" Blair sneered.

"Not at all. But think about what we've done in the past two days, babe. We've not only bonded, we've melded. You've lived your life inside your own mind for what...twenty-seven, twenty-eight years?"

"Twenty-six."

"Twenty-six years and now suddenly you have someone else in there too. And let's face it, I'm not the easiest person in the world to get to know on the outside, let alone on the inside. So, suddenly you have this conservative, anal, militaristic cop stomping through the mind of a liberal, neo-hippie witch-doctor--"

"Hey!"

Jim smiled. "Sounds to me like the perfect recipe for some unsettled feelings."

Blair blinked down at the guardian. As much as he hated to admit it, Jim did make a fair amount of sense. But if he admitted that, he was admitting he was a hysterical basket case.

"No, you're not," Jim said quietly, as if reading his mind.

Blair whispered, "Everyone will know."

"Babe, what they'll know is that technically we shouldn't have left your apartment for another week to ten days. They'll be scared that I've pushed you too hard, too fast. They know that any trust you place in sentinels right now is a gift. They'll know we've talked things out and that everything will be better soon." Jim raised a hand toward Blair and slowly closed the distance between them.

Blair slowly reached out and took Jim's hand in his and let the sentinel ease him to the roof.

"There are some rooms on the eighth floor where we can reconnect."

"Okay."

"Is the headache bad?"

Blair shrugged.

"Well, if you hadn't insisted on doing your impersonation of the Crocodile Hunter..."

Blair stopped and looked into Jim's face, but didn't see any condemnation of his actions, simply amusement.

"So was it really ten feet long?" Jim teased as they entered the building.

"Ten? Oh for Pete's sake...it wasn't over three."

Jim led them down the stairs to the eighth floor. "Berman said it was six."

"Well, sure if you count the tail."

Jim opened the door to the nearest suite and guided Blair into the bonding room. "I think with alligators you have to count the tails, Sandburg."

Blair entered the room, removed his shoes, then walked to the center of the bonding pad. He watched in silence as Jim did the same. Blair was honest enough with himself to admit he was nervous; he had no idea what to expect from Jim.

Jim closed the distance between them and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

"Forgive me?" Jim murmured against his ear.

Blair shook his head, startled, took a step back, and looked up at his sentinel. "Forgive you? For what?"

"I knew you were coming to the station for lunch. I should have been tracking you the moment you entered the building. If I had, I wouldn't have reacted to Berman the way I did and you wouldn't have had to walk in on the middle of that particular conversation."

"Jim, just because I overreacted--"

Jim pulled him back into the hug. "Which I should have known--"

Blair shook his head against Jim's chest and smiled. "Do you do this a lot?"

"Do what?"

"Take the blame for the world around you?"

"Of course not...well...not often...hardly ever, really."

Blair felt a bubble of laughter rise within him and released it joyfully. He returned Jim's hug. "Aren't we a pair?"

"A pair of what?"

Blair laughed again, and not only heard but felt Jim's chuckle rumble beneath his ear. He took a half-step back and looked up to make his own apology, but Jim's lips descended, covering his. Jim guided him back against the wall, all the time devouring his mouth, his hands roaming over Blair's body. Blair was surprised by the neediness of his own moan as his hands pulled Jim's shirt out from his pants.

"Please, Jim," he whispered, his conscious mind not quite sure what was he was asking for, but knowing he needed it.

"Yes," Jim responded between devastating kisses. "Yes, babe."

Blair felt himself being tenderly lowered to the mats, but his mind was already melding into the colors that were Jim's soul, already reaching for the joyful laughter of his heart, already reaching for the oneness that made him feel whole.

Blair awoke feeling refreshed and with no trace of a headache. For several minutes he reveled in the warmth which surrounded him. Never in his life had he felt so safe or needed. Jim's need for him was so different from Alex's. Alex was needy, demanding, constantly after him to do this or that for her. Life had been all about her, while Jim had yet to verbalize a need. But when he merged with the sentinel, he felt the older man relax as if all of his wants and needs were being fulfilled. What surprised him was that the sentinel gave as much, if not more, back to him. He wondered briefly if that was normal between sentinels and guides or if it was just a Jim thing.

Blair had never merged with Alex, had never even heard guides talk about merging. But then again, he'd avoided sentinels and guides as much as possible after Alex, so his knowledge was sorely lacking. Perhaps it was a true bond phenomena.

Although Alex claimed they had bonded through sex, he wondered now if that were truly the case. He knew he'd had the ability to ground her, to guide her, knew that she felt very territorial about him, but he had never truly felt a connection with her. He had met Alex when he was sixteen. He had believed her when she'd claimed him, had loved her for wanting him, for needing him, but he had never felt diminished by her absence. In fact, more often than not, he had felt relieved when she had gone to class.

His headache had begun shortly after leaving Jim to attend the meeting at Rainier. When he closed his eyes, he could picture Jim puttering around the kitchen of his home, could practically hear the idle chitchat Jim made with fellow officers as he entered the precinct. In fact, it was thinking about Jim that made the headache grow, knowing he wouldn't be able to touch the sentinel until noon.

There was a part of him that didn't want to be apart from his sentinel, even though his soul still cried out for his freedom. He hoped Jim was right about things settled down after a while; being all over the emotional map was for the birds.

"You think too much, Professor," a warm, loving voice murmured beside his ear.

"You must not be doing your job right then," Blair teased, rolling over and looking up at his sentinel.

Jim raised one eyebrow dramatically. "Oh?"

Blair waggled his eyebrows playfully. "If you had done this right, I shouldn't be able to think at all."

"I see," Jim said in a serious tone, though his eyes laughed. "Maybe...maybe I should practice until I get the hang of it."

"I suppose." Blair sighed dramatically, raising the back of his wrist to his forehead. "The trials and tribulations of being a guide."

Jim rolled on top of him and kissed him, teasingly. But while the surface emotion was light, Blair could feel the underlying tension beneath it, the worry that he wasn't quite measuring up somehow. Jim's vulnerability surprised him. After all, Jim was alpha sentinel of Cascade. He was the man the clan looked to for guidance. Why was he scared?

Even as he responded to Jim's tender ministrations, he moved deeper down the corridors of Jim's mind, seeking answers. Jim gasped and pulled back slightly, although he never broke his hold. His light blue eyes searched Blair's.

Blair knew he should answer the unspoken question, but instead he hesitantly tried to open one of the closed doors before him. The door stayed shut as Jim resisted.

Blair sighed, knowing he was asking too much. He started to remove his hand from Jim's face, but Jim stopped him, covering Blair's hand with his own even as he leaned into Blair's touch. Jim took a shaky breath. "Try again," he barely breathed.

"You don't --"

Jim brushed his lips over Blair's. "Try again." The trust shining from Jim's eyes was nearly his undoing, but he obeyed the quiet command and turned inward again, finding himself in front of the door which had withstood his previous attempts to open it. Hesitantly he tried the knob again. Again, the door held, but then slowly opened.

//Second place isn't good enough, Jimmy. If you're going to make anything of yourself, you have to give one hundred and ten percent.//

//We're going down! We're going down!//

//Mama, please don't go. Please, I'll be good.//

Blair slowly backed into the corridor of Jim's mind, then looked up into the face of his sentinel, feeling a tear leak down the side of his face.

"Why?" he asked softly.

Jim used the back of his index finger to prevent the tear from reaching his neck. "Because you have a right to know," he answered, just as quietly. "Because I have nothing to hide." Jim brought his moist finger to his lips, and Blair watched as Jim tasted his tear. "Because we are forever. Because I trust you."

Because I trust you.

Blair blinked, stunned by the simple words.

For so long he had kept his soul locked deep inside, protecting himself, refusing to give anything of himself away, afraid he would lose who he was if he were to open himself to another.

Because I trust you.

Jim had nothing to gain by allowing Blair to know his deepest fears and yet he kept nothing back. Blair gasped quietly as realization dawned on him. He wasn't losing anything by sharing, he was gaining Jim, a life companion. Just as Jim would come to know everything about him, he would have the same intimate insight. They would be one mind in two bodies, but would remain the individuals they were.

"I...I...never knew," he whispered.

"I didn't either...until now," Jim whispered back.

A slow smile grew on Blair's face as he rolled Jim onto his back and looked down into the eyes of the man he knew he was going to grow to love. "Come on in, Jim. The water's fine." And with that, his world exploded into joy.

• End --

End Moonhunt by Dolimir: Dolimir@aol.com

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Disclaimer: The Sentinel is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount.