Disclaimer: No infringement of Petfly's copyright over The Sentinel intended. Original characters and plot line all mine.

Notes: This began life as a very silly triple MarySue. The exercise of changing it to a more serious story was interesting. Also my first full story post to the list. Feedback welcome.

"No, Chief, I'm not! No way! NO!" Jim slammed the truck door and stalked away from the Ford.

Blair leapt out, calling after his partner, voice entreating, "Come on, Jim. Just once. Just to try it. I need to know what it feels like."

"I am not going to do that. End of discussion." Jim's voice rumbled his refusal.

"That's what I SO hate, man. You make the decision and I have to go along, whatever I might want. No, man, not this time!" His words echoed in the underground parking lot.

Jim stopped walking and turned to face an irritated Blair. Voice low, calm and dangerous. "How do you think you are going to make me?"  Jim subtly flexed his shoulders as he stood up to his full height, a good half-foot taller than Blair.

"I hate it when you do that too! Fuckin' caveman!" the Guide grumbled.

"No, I'm not...and that is the point, isn't it?" Jim spoke with quiet intensity.

The two men glared at each other, Blair breathing hard in his frustration, face flushed.

"Hey, boys, you got a barney goin'? The perfect partners are having a disagreement? "

Startled, they whirled to see Megan Connor grinning at them. "Nothing, Connor." Jim started to move past her.

"Sandy doesn't think so. Do you, Sandy?"

Blair grimaced at Jim's steely back and mumbled, "No," just loud enough for Sentinel ears. The big cop paused but did not turn around.

Megan's coolly amused voice, "What about? Maybe I can help?"

Jim turned and glared at her. "Nothing, Connor. Drop it!"

"But Jimbo, what if Sandy," at Blair's wince, "sorry, Sandbag wants my help?"

"None! Of! Your! Business! Got it covered."

Blair's lips tightened before he rapped out, "Maybe I want someone else's advice."

Jim growled, "Not her!"

Jim's hard retort made her back up a step and Megan's grin faded. "Easy, bucko." Trying to reduce the tension, she changed the topic. "Hey, you like my car? It's a Viper. Found one to lease. They think I'm going to buy it." She pointed to the dark green, low-slung sports car parked a few feet away. Jim and Blair stared from her to the car and back, as if not really understanding her. "So, what do you think, boys? A beaut, hnn?"

As Jim was about to speak, the jail van pulled up to the underground entry to the courthouse cell area. Megan's attention shifted completely to the manacled man being removed from the back of the van. Scott Brunnell was dressed in rumpled jail fatigues, but they did nothing to disguise his smooth confidence. He stood, body held arrogantly as Connor approached him, her heels clicking on the concrete floor.

"Come to see me walk away?" he sneered.

"Not this time, Brunnell. This time you fall."

His smile, cold and arrogant, irritated Connor. "You forget, I have never been convicted of anything."

"Don't bet on it!"

"I never bet. I have the best lawyer and I WILL walk."

"No!" Connor's anger at his jabbing words grew.  She started toward him but was intercepted by Jim's hand on her arm. "Let me go!"

"Don't be a fool, Connor. He's trying to goad you into doing something stupid."

She swung round and pushing at Jim's hand, snapped, "Get your paws off me, Ellison. Might work with your little buddy there but not me!"

"Hey!" Blair protested, "hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

She turned to Blair. "Sandy, I have seen the way he manhandles you."

"You don't understand."

A hard voice from behind them. "Understand this!" Brunnell stood, the guard unconscious at his feet, his gun held steady in Brunnell's hands. The manacles lay on the ground near the van. "Come here. You, " gesturing to Blair, "now. Now!"

Blair, hands raised, moved reluctantly to stand beside Brunnell. The man wrapped his arm around the young anthropologist's throat. Jim started forward but Brunnell snapped, "Stop there. I can break his neck so fast. Can't I, Connor?"

Jim glanced at Megan who nodded.

"Drop your guns. NOW! Kick them over this way."

Jim pulled his weapon out and holding it with his fingertips, laid it carefully on the ground. A sidekick of his foot and it scooted over to Brunnell's feet. Megan glared at the man who held the gun on her and did not move.

"Gun, Connor. You know how."

Megan slowly pulled her gun out and paused, as if she might use it. Brunnell tightened his grip on Blair's throat, making the young man's eyes go wide. With an unhappy grunt, Megan put her gun down and pushed it across the floor.

"Which car is yours?"

When she did not respond, Jim gestured to the dark green Viper.

"Bloody typical. Keys."

Megan did not move until Jim hissed at her. "Connor, do it. Now, Connor!" She dug in her purse and pulled out the keys.

"Throw them in front of the guard."

When she hesitated, Jim grabbed the keys and tossed them where Brunnell had indicated.

Snarling into Blair's ear, "You pick them up, boy. No tricks or I take out one of them."

Blair bent down and snatched up the keys.  As he straightened up, he moved partly in front of Brunnell. Megan went for her gun.

"No!" yelled Jim as Brunnell noticed and fired at her. She dropped like a stone. Jim dove for his own weapon but Brunnell had whirled and fired. A grunt and Jim lay still.

Blair screamed, "Noooo!" his voice cracking.

"Shut up. Come on." He dragged the distressed Blair to Connor's car and opened the passenger door. "Get in"

When Blair was seated, Brunnell slammed his gun to Blair's right temple and the young man collapsed sideways. Brunnell dragged him upright, snapped the seatbelt around him and slammed the door shut. He ran to the unconscious guard and pulled his handcuffs from his back pocket. With a glance at a rousing Jim, Brunnell scooped up the big cop's gun. Then he raced back the car, got in and handcuffed Blair's hands to the lap part of his seatbelt on the door side of the passenger seat.  His face broke into a sly smile as he noticed the cell phone on the dashboard.

"This is too fuckin' easy."  He drove off, very pleased with the way things were going.

Jim groaned and raised his head in time to see Connor's car, Brunnell at the wheel and a slumped form in the passenger seat, screech away and out of the underground garage. He staggered to his feet, his head aching. Something damp ran down over one eye. When he touched his left temple, he winced and his hand came away sticky. Blood. A crease from the bullet that had been meant to kill him. One hand swiping away the blood, he knew he had been lucky. But was Connor as lucky?

He dropped to her side, and checked her condition. The bullet had gone through the side of her chest but she was still alive. He pressed his hands firmly on the entry and exit points to slow the bleeding. The big cop could hear running feet approaching. Guards from the courthouse had arrived. One knelt by Connor and replacing Jim's hands on her wounds, yelled back to his colleagues to bring the first aid kit. Jim pulled out his cell phone and punched a number. He backed away from Connor and the guards.

"Banks."

"Simon, Brunnell has just shot Connor and escaped, taking Blair with him."

"WHAT! Are you trying jerk my chain? That's not funny, Ellison."

"No, the car licence..." Jim was suddenly dizzy and sank down against the edge of the jail van. " The car licence is..." he closed his eyes, concentrating, " 247 JTV. A dark green Viper. Can you get out an APB?  I going to go after them."

"Jim, hold on. Where are they headed?"

"Don't know."

"Then how will you find them? Be sensible and wait for backup."

"No, they'll get too far away. I'll try using Blair's heartbeat as a homing beacon."

"You can do that?" The Police Captain's voice expressed his surprize.

"Not sure. Only chance." He stopped speaking to his boss to respond to the guard arriving with the first aid bag. "No, take care of her, I'm ok. Call an ambulance. Her ID's in her purse, over there. Sorry, Simon that was the Courthouse guards. Got to go. Call you from the truck."

"Right. Be careful and keep in touch. I'm on my way to the hospital. How's Connor now?"

He glanced down to where the guards were applying pressure bandages to the side of Megan's chest. The Aussie detective was pale but still breathing. He could hear a fast but steady heartbeat. "I think she'll make it. Later, Simon." Jim closed off the cell phone and ran to his truck, only pausing to pick up Blair's backpack where it lay on the ground. The Ford's tires screeched as Jim accelerated toward the exit ramp. At the top of the ramp, he yelled out to the hot dog vendor whose cart was just to the side. "See a green Viper? Which way did they go?"

The vendor pointed left and Jim took off, scaring a taxi driver and his passenger when he cut them off.

As he wove his way through mid-morning traffic, he focussed on finding Blair's heartbeat, filtering out everything else. He knew it was dangerous to do that while driving but he had to locate his partner and his kidnapper before they were out of range. After a few tense moments, he heard the familiar beat. It seemed to be up ahead and to the left.

"The interstate! Going toward Seattle, maybe." His cell phone rang and he grabbed it with his right hand. "Ellison," voice clipped with tension.

"Jim, car has been seen on I-5, headed north. Moving fast."

"Thanks, Simon. Looks like he's going for...hey, jerk, keep in your own lane!"

"Easy, Jim. We've alerted Seattle PD."

"Simon, tell them not to stop them. He'll kill Blair without hesitation. Just track him and let me know."

"Jim, we have to get him. He's shot a cop now as well as killing the guard at the Power Station, not to mention the robbery at the bank."

"Yah, but let's get Blair back in one piece first."

Simon's voice was quiet. "My goal too, Jim. Where are you?"

"Just getting onto I-5, about Helwell Avenue overpass."

"Ok, keep in touch. Don't do anything crazy."

Jim grimaced to himself. "Sir, I'm the poster boy for Mental Health Week. "

"Sure. As the guy who needs help. Just keep cool." More seriously, "All the guys are praying on this one, Jim. They want the little guy back as much as you do."

Voice almost controlled, "Nobody wants him back as much as I do. Nobody." He felt his jaw clench hard.

"I know, Jim. Just be careful."

"Very good, sir." He cut the connection and concentrated on making up time. And on keeping Blair's heartbeat in his ear. He had nearly lost it as he was speaking to Simon. Normally, he would refocus a sense by closing his eyes and centring only on that sense. But he could not do that and drive. The process was harder as a result. He just hoped he didn't lose the sound entirely. That would be too much. A shuddering from somewhere deep in his chest.

"Get a grip, Ellison. Going wimpy won't help the kid." A deep breath and another, the way Blair had taught him and the sound was a steady lub dub in his head, clearly coming from in front of him. They had not turned off.  Speeding up and ten minutes later, the sound seemed to come marginally stronger, as if he was getting closer.

At the junction of I-12 from Abersteen, he turned toward Olympica but within two minutes, he knew he was moving away from Blair. "Damn!" At the next emergency turnaround, he wheeled back west, ignoring the angry car horns blaring at him. In another 15 minutes, he took the turning for Shelton.

"Port Angeles! They're headed for the ferry!" Suddenly, he wondered why Blair's heartbeat was so calm. No sign he was scared. That was disturbing. He grabbed the cell phone and punched Simon's number.

"Banks."

"Ellison. When is the next ferry out of Port Angeles?"

"What?"

"That's where they're going, I'm sure. Not Seattle."

A pause. Jim could hear computer keyboard clicks. "Next one's at 12:30, headed for Victoria."

"Damn. I'm at least 10 minutes behind them. I might not make it. Can you get them to hold the ferry?"

"Don't know. I'll try. But Jim, we don't want to spook Brunnell."

"Yah. Ok. Later." He disconnected and tossed the phone on the empty seat. Where Blair should be sitting. With a jerk, he jammed the accelerator all the way down and passed two cars.

Ten miles away, Blair was just awakening from the blow to his temple.  There was an intense ache like his whole head was in a vice and a localized pain on the side of his head when, in turning, he brushed it against the top of the shoulder belt. Then he realized his hands were restrained, cuffed to the seatbelt. About to speak, to ask why he was locked up, he stopped to listen to Brunnell's side of a phone conversation.

"Yes, you heard me. The Cascade thing went wrong but I want you to go to the second backup plan." A pause. "Yes, that's right. Near Botanical Bay on the west coast of Vancouver Island." A pause. "How long before you can get there?" A pause. "Ok. Got the Port Angeles ferry times? When is the next one to Victoria?" A pause. "12:30. Yah, I can make that. Then we'll head to Port Renfrew. I'll contact you again if I need to but let's plan on you getting me tonight at that spot we picked." A pause. "No! No! Do not call me. No more messages unless something goes wrong. Here is the number of this cell phone." He rhymed off the numbers. "Yah. Ok. Tonight at midnight. Be there!"

The call ended and the car sped up slightly. After a couple of minutes, Blair groaned and raised his head. "Where...where am I?"

"Don't play dumb. You know where you are. And what happened. The same thing that happened to Connor and that other cop can happen to you if you don't do exactly what I say. We are coming up to the ferry terminal. You sit still, don't speak or try to communicate to anyone. Pretend to be asleep."

"Jim will be coming for me."

Brunnell snarled. "Only as a ghost. Now sit still and be quiet. I don't care who I have to shoot. Anyone at all. Remember that."

A small corner of Blair's mind hoped that Jim was only wounded but an awful big bit was afraid his partner had been actually killed. If that was true, he did not care if the Australian killed him. Blair glanced quickly and saw a lot of people around them, some in cars, others moving toward the ferry on foot. He knew that Brunnell would do what he said. Since he had no desire to spread the misery in his own heart into other people's lives, he followed his captor's instructions.

Ticket purchased with Blair's money from the agent wandering among the cars, they rolled slowly forward and down into the belly of the big white ferry. Blair could hear the excited voices of children in the other cars. Once they were in position and stopped, Brunnell leaned over toward him.

"We are going to get out of the car now and go up on deck. I'd leave you here but I am not allowed to. Some rule about passenger safety. Remember I have two guns, lots of ammo and the will to use them indiscriminately if you try to get away or communicate with anyone."

He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Door open, he tapped and then twisted the handcuffs. They fell open.

"How did you...? You a reincarnated Harry Houdini or something?"

A hard laugh. "Not far off. I studied with an escape artist. Comes in handy."

"So that is how you got out of the manacles!"

"Clever boy. Now get out slowly and stay close to me."

Blair stepped out of the car and Brunnell pressed into his side, the gun in his hand hidden by Blair's jacket. They moved with the other passengers up the stairs and onto the upper deck. At the junction of two corridors, Blair was yanked into a corner.  "Give me your wallet."

"I don't have much left after that ticket purchase." "Give it to me!"

Once he had it, Brunnell took out all the paper currency and shoved it back at Blair. He pushed the young man toward a kiosk that sold various souvenirs. He bought a sweatshirt and matching pants with the name of the ferry company embroidered on them and headed to the men's washroom. "In and be quiet." The washroom had one extra large stall meant for handicapped passengers. "In there." The two of them entered the stall and Brunnell gestured to the jail fatigues he wore. "Undo my pants."

"Whaaat?" Blair's voice wavered.

"Forget it, kid. What do you think I am, some faggot? Get the pants off so I can change."

His fingers trembling, Blair undid the button and zipper on the pants and pulled them down.

"Take my shoes off. Very easy now. My finger might tighten unexpectedly."

When Blair had the shoes off and then the pants pulled away, Brunnell dropped the sweatpants to him. "Put these on me."

The pants fit well enough if a bit loosely. Shoes were a bit trickier to get back on but Blair managed it.

"Ok. Stay in here and lock the door."

Brunnell pushed the gun into the pocket of the sweatpants and stepped out of the stall. In a few moments he ordered Blair out. The jail fatigues were shoved into the garbage bin and no one would know that Brunnell was an escapee, dressed in the dark blue sweats. He took Blair's wallet again and shoved it into the pocket of the sweatpants. With a shove, he directed Blair out into the main area of the upper deck just as the ship's horn announced their departure from Port Angeles.

Down on the Port Angeles' docks, Jim slammed his fist onto the steering wheel of the Ford Ranger. "Damn! Damn! Damn!" He had missed the ferry by no more than 3 minutes.

"Hey buddy. It's ok. Another one goes in two hours."

Jim glared at the ticket agent and then forced himself to relax. "See a dark green Viper go on board? Two guys in it?"

"Viper? Yah. The driver was English or something. Wanted to pay later. Pissed when I said cash up front only. Made the little guy with him pay. Pushy bastard, too. Demanded to jump the line, get on first. Did, too. What's the matter?"

 <Fast getaway on landing.> thought Jim. "No other way across before the next ferry?"

The man shrugged. "Some fisherman might. But they don't like to dock on the Canadian side. Too many rules, you know? Nothing else here. Have to go to Seattle to get a 'copter. Took it once myself but..."

"Ok." Jim did not need to hear more. "Two hours?"

"Yah. You can leave your truck here if you buy the ticket now. Coffee shop over there. Might even be drinkable today." The ticket agent laughed at his own joke.

Jim bought a ticket and locked the truck. He stood for a while seeing the ferry disappear, hearing Blair's heartbeat fade as he got farther away. <I'm coming, Chief. Hang on. I'll be there.> He had felt spiking in Blair's heart rate several times in the last hour and it disturbed him to wonder what had caused the change.

With the last of his coins to call Simon from a payphone and save the batteries in the cell phone, he brought his boss up to date. Then, "How's Connor?"

"Messy flesh wound. In hospital and driving the staff crazy. Reminds me of a certain Detective I know. She's going to be fine. Are you sure Brunnell was on that ferry?"

"Simon, what is the chance that a dark green Viper with two guys who were like Blair and Brunnell could NOT be them?" he snapped.

"Easy, Jim, I'm on your side. I'll contact the Victoria Police."

"Tell them to go easy. Blair...". His voice stopped when it began to crack.

"I know the Police Chief pretty well. Met him at a convention in Vancouver a few years ago. Been fishing with him a few times since. I'll make sure he understands." A short silence. "Jim, you know Blair. More lives than a cat. Guy'll probably leave the kid at the Victoria ferry terminal. Just to get away from all that chatter." When the Sentinel did not respond, "Jim?"

"I gotta go, Simon. I'll be in contact." He managed to keep his voice steady that time. To keep the fear that was coursing through him from showing as he spoke. He stood, hand on the phone for a couple of moments until a woman waiting to use the phone tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, if you are finished..."

He moved away with an apology and went out of the coffee shop and back to sit in his truck. He blamed himself for this situation, feeling responsible for Brunnell's escape. <I should have insisted on more security. I underestimated him. How did he get out of those manacles?>

Ninety minutes to wait. As he reached for the radio button, Blair's backpack caught his eye and his hand faltered in its progress.  A long stare and then he thought what Blair would be saying to him now, if it was someone else who had been kidnapped. 'Hey, big guy, focus on what you can do, not on what you can't do anything about.' Always good advice the kid gave, even if Jim didn't always acknowledge it to him.

He snapped the radio on with a decisive gesture and found a station that was carrying a baseball game. Listening carefully, he could hear the noises of the ballpark through the announcers' microphones. <Sandburg really enjoyed that game I took him to last year. Forced him to go to. Whined all the way there. Bounced all the way back. Couldn't believe he ate four hot dogs. Always told me how bad they were for my health. What did he say? Yah. 'Not bad for you when you eat them outside.'>

Jim grinned at remembering the mustard running down Blair's chin. <Looked like a kid. Sexy but a kid. I could have kissed...> He shook his head. <Damn, why did my last words to him have to be angry?> He inhaled sharply. < No, not my last words! No. Damn, not my last words.> Another deep breath and he was filled with Blair's scent coming from his backpack. One hand reached out but froze in midair. In a second, he was drifting, seeing an image of himself in warrior gear, hunting through an endless jungle for his Guide. All blue shadows and odd noises but no Guide. He began to run, shoving branches, seeking with sight and smell but only teasing traces...

Suddenly, the ferry's sharp air horn blew, startling him. He had concentrated so hard on Blair's scent that he had zoned. Luckily, the ship's horn was enough to bring him out of it.  At a gesture from a ferry crewman, he rolled down the ramp and all the way to the front of the parking level. <Here I come, Chief.>

In one of the ferry's inside lounges, Brunnell shoved Blair onto the corner seat nearest the window, nothing behind them but a bulkhead wall and no one else sitting near them. "See if you can sit there and not move for a while." The hard edge of the gun Brunnell had stuffed into his left pocket poked into the young anthropologist's ribs. He knew what the message of that was.

After a few minutes, the ferry was underway, its engines rumbling beneath their feet. Brunnell was keeping an eye on the other passengers but had relaxed slightly. Blair thought the Australian really was not worried about anyone here, it was just the man's natural wariness that kept him alert to his surroundings. In that way, he was like Jim. <No,> he thought, correcting himself, <not like Jim. Jim is not like a hunted animal the way this man is.>

The young man glanced around, noting the happy smiles on the other passengers' faces as their journey across the Strait of Juan da Fuca began. Most of the passengers were wandering around the ship at this stage of the trip, too excited to sit yet.

A woman who was sitting near them had pulled out her camera and was pointing it around the lounge. Brunnell tensed and glared at her until she rose and headed onto the deck. Blair could see her taking pictures of the harbour and another ship that was passing the ferry. He let the breath he was holding go. While his captor was ruthless, Blair did not think he would start shooting unless he really thought he was under attack.  Especially just as they were beginning the 90-minute sea trip.

Blair's gaze was drawn out the window to the passengers strolling the deck. He stared at the bright blue-sky day, thinking how dark he felt inside. After a while, he could not stand to watch the happy faces passing the windows and turned in his seat to face into the lounge. In the central section of upholstered chairs, a middle-aged woman was looking at him and when their eyes connected, she smiled. His answering smile was automatic. But Brunnell noticed and poked at Blair who dropped his eyes to the floor.

After a few minutes he looked up again and the woman was watching him, a concerned expression on her face. She made as if to rise but stopped as he shook his head firmly at her.  He tried not to look at her but he was aware she was still looking at him.  His eyes flicked to her face again. She nodded her head slightly toward Brunnell, a questioning expression on her face. Blair shrugged a bit and half-smiled. She shook her head sadly and then smiled, all gentle and concerned. He appreciated the supporting warmth he saw in her.

About fifteen minutes before arrival an announcement over the ship's PA system advised all passengers who had vehicles on board to return to them. Brunnell dragged the young man to his feet and they headed below. As they passed the woman he had been smiling at, her hand patted his arm. She said nothing when he glanced back at her but crossed her fingers at him.

Brunnell had handcuffed Blair to the seatbelt again.

"Keep quiet. I can kill you in two seconds. I saw you eyeing that woman, trying to communicate with her."

"I didn't."

Brunnell punched Blair's ribs twice with his hard fist and the young man groaned. "I said be quiet."

Blair drew as far from Brunnell as he could get. Around them, people were getting into their vehicles, excited at the journey's end. Blair wondered what the end of his journey would be. <whatever it is, I hope it will be soon.> Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Jim falling to the concrete floor of the Courthouse garage. Lying motionless. Nothing else mattered now if Jim were dead. Brunnell could kill him whenever he wanted. < Don't want to feel like this. Oh God, Jim!> He choked back the cry that threatened to burst from his mouth and curled in on himself.

A thump that shuddered through the entire ship startled Blair out of his despair. Yelling and the rattle of heavy chains and then the front of the ship opened to reveal the docks at Victoria.

The day was sunny and Blair closed his eyes as the Viper rolled out into the bright light. As they waited to disembark, Brunnell had been consulting the map of Vancouver Island he had obtained on the ship. A brief chat with the Canada Customs officer and they were off to the west, seeking Highway 1, following the route pointed out by the helpful officer.

Jim stood at the prow of the ferry, staring toward the Canadian coast, to where Blair was. For the next hour and a half, Jim was trapped on this ferry while Blair got farther and farther away. While Brunnell was doing whatever to his partner. His lover. It ate at him, this feeling of helplessness. Filled him with rage and fear.

Around him, some excited children were enjoying the wind blowing from the ocean. He heard them with a corner of his Sentinel mind but only peripherally. Until a voice nearby called out "Is that good, baby? You like that?"  And the voice became Blair's voice and they were together at the loft, in his bed. Their bed, now. So newly their bed. It was only three weeks since they had admitted their love for one another and started sleeping together. Jim closed his eyes and remembered. He was lying on the bed, naked, head thrown back on the pillow, his body arching up from the intensity of Blair's caresses.

A long groan and he managed, "Oh God, do that...do that again."

"Was that good, baby? You like that? Again?"

A hissed demand, "Yes!"

"At your command," from a grinning Guide. Blair seemed to be enjoying himself after his initial shyness and uncertainty.  Jim loved the way Blair was innocent and wanton at the same time.

Blair's mouth enveloped the head of Jim's penis, lips softly caressing the sensitive ridge. The mouth was so hot, so moist. A sweet cavern to be lost in.

"Oh, oh, yesss." His body rose again as his lover touched him.

Blair's style was gentle intensity. Bringing his buff cop up to the peak, to the edge of mindlessness slowly with seductively focussed touches on every erotic trigger point on Jim's body, in a varying sequence. No two times the same. Touches that were deceptively gentle but he knew Blair realized exactly what he was doing. Making Jim open his senses wide to feel the touches and suddenly increasing the intensity, backing off and starting again.

Ever the scientist, Blair had tested how his older lover reacted to every caress on each place on his body. He had studied with as much focus as he had studied Jim's Sentinel abilities. It had occurred to him that the young anthropologist just might be researching a chapter on sexual responses for his dissertation but right now, caught in the passion, Jim did not care.

Especially when Blair's tongue connected with the underside of his cock, outlining the vein that ran along one side. The wicked tip of Blair's tongue tapped its way down and then up the erect shaft, each pressure raging through Jim's entire body, toes to scalp. Shooting electrical vibrations over his skin. He began to tremble with the passion that had taken over his blood, his nerves.

"Oh, Gawdddd, baby! Take me, take me! Now, now, now! "

The talented mouth began to suck him as the wicked fingers located his balls, squeezing each in turn. Those broad fingers sought and pressed into the underlying structure that was his testicles, insistent but not cruel in their exploration.

Jim could feel the tension that had flooded him reach a crest, pulling up his balls to his body. He needed to warn his lover that his release was very close. All he managed was a half-strangled 'Blair' before he exploded into the hot mouth.

The young man stopped moving for a moment and then began to suck even harder, dragging out everything Jim had to give. The big man cried out and almost arched Blair off of the bed with the force of his orgasm but his lover held on, his mouth still over most of the bigger man's cock. <God he's persistent.> was Jim's only coherent thought for several minutes after he slumped back to the bed, sweaty and panting.

After a few moments he groaned, "Come up here, baby." Blair slid up the sweat-slick body beneath him and settled half over Jim's chest. His lips came to rest against Jim's right ear. When Jim tried to speak through his ragged breathing, Blair put a finger over his lips,"Shush love, easy, easy. Work on getting your breath back."

He rubbed a hand over Jim's stomach and chest, soothing, distracting, to help his partner relax. Jim's hands found Blair's hair and lost themselves. The bigger man drew the lush mouth to his and took the lower lip into a soft bite. Lips opened, gave breath to each other, an exchange of moist heat and intimacy.

As he pulled the smaller man's body in a tight embrace, Jim could feel the hardness still at Blair's groin. He knew he should do something about it but he was so deep in a lovely warm lassitude. With an effort of will, he slid his hands down his lover's back, revelling in feeling the silky skin and the lines of ribs and spine. When he reached the full globes of Blair's ass, he marvelled at how perfectly they fit his hands, as if his hands and Blair's buttocks were sized for each other. He cupped the roundness and began to manipulate them.

"Baby, you should have said something. Hell, I should have been paying attention but you are so ...you are still in need, here."

"No, Jim. I have what I need. Your mouth on mine....or I did. Kiss me, you fool."

A soft chuckle rose from his throat and he kissed Blair again but could not be distracted from his duty. "My little guppy, I can feel your need." A gentle hump into Blair's groin. "You might not be as tall as I am but there is no denying what you have between your legs. One impressive and needy boner."

He was surprized by the blush that stained Blair's cheeks. Staring into the muscular chest he was laying on, "Aw, Jim, I ...it's ok. You don't have to...".

Jim smiled with a rush of affection. "Chief, this is supposed to be a mutually satisfying relationship. Your turn to be satisfied."

Still blushing and not looking at Jim, "I love giving you...your pleasure...satisfaction...you are satisfied?"

"Into next week."

A grinning delight at Jim's comment, "Then I am."

"Your words may say that, baby, but your body is not in agreement." He ran a long finger down Blair's side and over his hip to the base of his very erect penis. "Let me give you pleasure. If I can make it half as wonderful as what you gave me...".

"You do that just by looking at me like that, love."

"Then I might come near giving you the level of pleasure you gave me."

One hand on the hard-edged hip, "Roll over, baby."

Jim jerked out of his reverie when a little boy ran into him. "Hmmmf."

"Sorry, mister."

"Ok, pal. Take it easy there."

He watched the little boy race off around the deck and he commenced his own slow but impatient pacing around the upper deck.

Ninety minutes north west of Victoria, Blair dared to ask. "Where are we going?"

He got no reply from Brunnell. He had noticed signs for the Juan da Fuca Trail as they passed through the small towns on the narrow road. The road apparently ended in Port Renfrew, about 50 kilometres beyond where they were. Rough hiking beyond that. He did not see Brunnell as the type that would be interested in that sort of thing. There must be something at Port Renfrew.

As they moved on, Blair studied the lush forest around them, the tall trees and the rugged views down to the Strait of Juan da Fuca. He peered up at the sky and recognized a storm approaching. Just like Cascade. Jim's laugh came to him, from the last time he had complained about the Cascade weather. "Aw, man, always rains when I have a free day." Jim had replied "Then don't have a free day, Chief. Charge for it." A smile moved his lips at the thought of Jim's dry humour and then faded when he realized he would never see Jim smile again.

Another thirty minutes and they entered the village of Port Renfrew, a collection of modest frame houses, a general store and gas station and a church among the tall trees. At the far end of the village, they pulled up just beyond a low, blue-painted wooden hotel.  Brunnell got out of his side of the car and opened the passenger door, undoing the handcuffs.

"Get out and just keep your mouth shut."  He pulled Blair with him, a gun firmly shoved into the young man's back and they entered the hotel.

As the ferry came into dock, Jim was in his truck, engine running, hands clenching white on the steering wheel. The ramp gates were barely open before he hit the accelerator and started out of the ferry. But as he moved out into the daylight, he realized he did not know which way to go. He could not hear Blair's heartbeat to give him the clue. As he was directed to the right hand line up for Customs and Immigration check, he got an idea.

"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Canada. Citizenship?"

"American."

"Your visit is for business or pleasure?"

"Not business. Did you see a dark green Viper driven by an Australian get off the last ferry from Port Angeles?"

A surprized look and a nod. "Yes. Anything to declare? Plant materials, restricted goods, weapons?"

"No. Which way did they go?"

A curious glance. "Friend of yours?"

"The passenger is. Got to find them."

"Oh." There was an interest that Jim did not want to take the time to satisfy with the truth.

"Yah. We got separated. I was too late to get the ferry and I'm not sure which road they're taking. Can you help?"

A tilt of the head as the Customs officer considered the matter.

"Come on, buddy. They'll get the best camping spot and rag me all week. I'll need to take the biggest fish." God, thought Jim, Blair's tendency to obfuscate is rubbing off on me.

A laugh. "He asked the way to the Sooke Highway."

"And it's...?"

"Highway 14. Take Highway 1 West and follow the signs to Highway 14." He pointed to the street outside the secure area. "Left as you exit the terminal here and straight ahead four blocks to Douglas, and left up Douglas. Signed for Highway 1."

"Thanks."

"Sure. But take your time. You'll be fine. Lots of good fishing along the west coast of the Island."

"I looking forward to some good catches." Jim started on the way the officer had described. He extended his hearing again but there were too many noises and too much distance for him to pick up the familiar beat. He grabbed his cell phone and punched up his Captain's number.

A bit crackly, "Banks."

"It's Jim. I'm just leaving the ferry terminal in Victoria. Any news."

"Nothing much, Jim. My friend, the Victoria police chief, called me about an hour ago. They had a report of a Viper heading west on the Highway 1 but no other sightings."

"Yah, that's what the Customs guy at the docks told me too."

"Now what?"

"I'm going west to Highway 14 and then up that highway.  Maybe I can pick up Blair's heartbeat. My only option unless the local police report something else."

"Once you're out of the city limits, you're into RCMP jurisdiction."

"Mounties?"

"Yes. They do the provincial policing outside major cities in British Columbia. Like state troopers. My friend is contacting them but I gather they are a bit rule-bound.  Still he expects they will cooperate when they know it is a fellow police officer. There is an RCMP station at Sooke that covers that part of the Island."

Jim's voice was quiet. "He's not a police officer, Simon. As you keep pointing out."

"Near enough not to matter. But don't you tell him I said that." A cough. "Something else. My friend says there is a big storm heading for the southwest coast. You could be facing some very heavy wind and rain in an hour or so."

"Ok. I'll call you back, Simon. In a few hours or when I have something...you call me if there is anything else."

"Right. As soon as my friend tells me what the RCMP say, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Simon."

"We'll get him back, Jim."

Jim's jaw tightened. "That's what I'm counting on. Later." He put down the phone and followed the highway out of Victoria, extending his hearing as far as he dared, now that he was moving away from the built up area.

In the bar of the Port Renfrew Hotel, Blair was finishing up the little registration card, Brunnell standing behind him, gun pushed into the small of the young man's back.

The man behind the bar asked casually, "So how long you boys here for? Couple of days of fishing?"

Blair glanced back at Brunnell who replied. "Something like that. A problem?"

"No, heck don't get a lot of folks up here at this time of year. Hardly a soul around."

 Brunnell shrugged. "The restaurant open's when?"

"The Wild Side Café. 'bout Six p.m. Some of the best cooking on the whole Island. I'm really partial to the seafood chowder but it's all good. Fresh salmon tonight, too."

"Good. Where do we...?"

"Through that door there and up the stairs. First on your left at the top. Need a hand with your bags?"  The man glanced around, looking for cases.

"No. We'll deal with that later." He pulled Blair away from the counter and headed out the door at the back of the bar. The 'lobby' of the hotel was just a space at the base of the staircase. They encountered no one on their trip up the stairs to their room on the second floor.

Blair asked, "How old do you think this hotel is?"

"What does that matter?" Brunnell snapped.

"Just curious. I like old places with character.  I'd say the 1920's. See that moulding around the doorframes? Pure 1920's. On the west coast anyway." He remembered Jim telling him once that if taken hostage it could save his life if he could become a person to the hostage taker. Might make his captor hesitate to kill him.

"Shut up." They had reached their room. "Get the door open." Blair struggled with the sticky lock until it finally gave. A hard hand shoving his back, Blair stumbled into the room.

"Get onto the bed, right arm back to the headboard." Brunnell took out the handcuffs from a pocket of the sweatpants.

"Hey, man, don't do that.  I'm not going to..."

"Shut up! Get your wrist back there."

"Man, I gotta pee. Let me go to the bathroom." When Brunnell did not agree, " Not going to be very pleasant if I pee my pants. Smelly."

A frown. "Hurry up."  As Blair reached the bathroom, "Keep the door open."

The young anthropologist did not like the idea but at least the hard man had let him relieve himself. Finished, he managed to wash his hands and drink a glass of water quickly before the man grabbed his arm and yanked him out into the main room. A push and Blair staggered into the edge of the bed, hitting his left knee on the metal side rail. Sharp fiery pain ran up his thigh. Another push and he sprawled face first on the bed.

"Move. Get up there." Brunnell's hand hit his back. "Move!"

Blair crawled up toward the pillows and rolled over.  Clamping the handcuff around the young man's right wrist, Brunnell pulled his arm back over his head and snapped the other cuff to the brass frame of the headboard. Blair scooted up the bed to relieve the bite of the handcuffs.

"Look, can't we discuss this, just find a way to..."

A fist punched him in the mouth and then slapped the side of his head so hard his ears were ringing.

"Shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear your voice again unless I ask you to speak. I might let you live but not if you keep up that endless chatter. I don't care which way this goes but you might. Got it?"

About to reply, Blair realized the danger and just nodded. He kept his head down and swiped at the blood running from his mouth with his left hand.

Suddenly the cell phone rang.  Brunnell punched the button. "Yes?...what! That's not the plan...ignore the weather...all right, all right. Whatever. When can you come?...noon tomorrow. No earlier?...sure, sure...yes. That will have to do. Call if you can be there earlier. But you better be there at noon. I do not care what the weather is. I'm paying you enough." He cut the call off with a curse.

Almost asking what was wrong, Blair closed his lips tight. Clearly the planned departure time was not going to be met. More chance for Jim to rescue him. He tried to hide his small smile by tipping his head forward so that his hair fell over his face while still keeping an eye on his captor.

With a glare at the young anthropologist, Brunnell pulled out Blair's wallet from his pocket. Sorting through the contents, he asked, "What is the limit on this credit card?"

"I ...around $2000."

"How much unused room?"

"I don't know for sure...maybe $1500. Bought some new course books last week and a new...".

"Shut up. Don't make any noise." He left the room without further comment.

Blair sighed and slid even farther up the bed to lean against the metal frame. His wrist already hurt from the handcuffs. If he was going to be here until morning his arm was going to cramp. "Oh, man, I so hate being kidnapped. Ok, so technically I am not kidnapped but taken hostage. Same shit. Jim, man, please be all right. Please come and get me soon." He shook his head. "Idiot, how's he going to know where you are. After Brunnell leaves, you can get the hotel to call Simon...damn, Sandburg what makes you think he'll leave you alive!"

His stomach contracted and he thought, unable to say the words out loud, <If Jim's gone, why do I want to live? > A choking sob burst from his throat. "No, no, no!" and he closed his eyes. "Oh, Jim, please." He sagged down, pulling the pillows into a mound, curling around them as much as the handcuffs allowed him. Fingers grasping knees against his chest, he rocked himself until he fell into a light doze.

After Simon's call and his own inability to find Blair's heartbeat, Jim felt the ache in his chest spread to his back and stomach. That he could not hear Blair's heart beating scared him but he kept telling himself it was just the distance.  Another ten minutes and Simon called again.

"Jim, my contact says the RCMP station at Sooke has been alerted. He says it's off the highway, in the town. You turn right at a Chevron gas station, Church Street, and it's about a block in. Single storey, looks like a post office."

"Thanks, Simon." His voice revealed the depth of his concern.

"Jim, he will be found. I wish I could be there with you."

"No, it's ok. How's Connor?"

"Improving. She'll be in hospital for a few days but no permanent damage."

"Great. Look, I'm entering Sooke now so I better go."

"Sure, Jim. Keep me apprized...".

"Very good, sir." He fell back on the formal phrase to keep his emotions in check, knowing Simon would understand. Closing the cell phone, Jim made the turn at the gas station. As he pulled into the side lot next to the red-brick single-story police station, he saw Simon was right to describe it as looking like a post office. Very institutional style that might even suggest a 1960's library.  He pushed down his tension but as a result, was rather brusque in his addressing the young Mountie behind the desk.

"Look, my friend has been kidnapped by this Australian escaped criminal.  They are somewhere up this highway."

"Kidnapping is a serious charge. Are you sure your friend went unwillingly?"

"The guy had a gun!"

"Your friend?"

"No, the Aussie." He thought maybe he should have identified himself as a fellow police officer.

"Right." The young officer pulled out a form and took up a pen. "Where did the kidnapping take place?"

"In Cascade, at the court house."

"I've never heard of a town by that name in B.C. What other community is it near?"

"It's in Washington State."

"Oh, well, you should have reported it to authorities there."

"We did. Look, " pulling out his badge, "I'm a detective with the Cascade PD.  James Ellison. and I'm following..."

"Don't have any jurisdiction here, " the constable noted. "You should have your department notify the RCMP through regular channels."

"It has gone through channels. You should have...".

"There was this fax...just a moment, Detective Ellison. Yes, here it is. A Blair Sandburg of the Cascade Police Department was taken hostage...not the same as kidnapping, is it?...and the perpetrator is also wanted for murder and robbery. Says they took the ferry to Victoria. We're asked to keep an eye out for a dark green Viper. Yes, seems to have all the particulars here."

"Great. I lost them after they took the ferry but they were seen taking the turning for Highway 14."

"Yes?"

"So I need your help to track them farther."

"Oh I can't leave the station, sir."

Getting exasperated, Jim snapped "I mean you as in the RCMP."

A blush and shuffling of papers. Jim thought the young Mountie looked about fifteen years old at that moment. A mumbled, "The detachment's help. Yes, I can alert all the officers on patrol. That's where they all are, you see. Do you have any idea where they were headed?"

"No, just up Highway 14."

A quiet voice from behind Jim made him swirl around. "I know where they are." A short broad man of aboriginal features stood looking at him, his tanned face serious. "Hey Danny," he said to the young constable. "Mike around? Got that salmon for him and his missus."

"Due in any time now, Carl."

Jim moved in front of the newcomer. "I beg your pardon...I didn't...".

"I know where your friend is. Port Renfrew."

"How do you know?"

"I saw him...them checking in at the hotel. Just before I headed out. Drove a dark green Viper. He's short, your friend, with shoulder-length curly hair. The other man, the driver, is tall with short, dark hair. Very hard eyes."

Jim nodded through the entire description. "That's them." He turned to the young constable. "So let's get some squad cars up there."

A deeper voice from behind interrupted. "This is not a large detachment, sir. We are expecting a big storm today, going to strain our resources." Jim turned to see a tall muscular man nearing 50 years old and dressed in a working Mountie uniform of dark brown. He studied Jim for a moment before speaking to the shorter man standing next to Jim. " Hey Carl, good to see you."

"Got that salmon I promised to bring the next time I was on my way to Victoria, Mike."

"Great." Back to the young constable, "What's going on here?"

The young Mountie explained to his Sergeant about Blair. He passed the Sergeant the fax and the older Mountie stood quietly reading it. "Have you got a bulletin out to the others?"

"Just about to do that, Sergeant."

"Go ahead with that. Give me the other new reports." The Sergeant started to flip through a pile of documents.

Jim had had enough of dealing with someone else's bureaucracy. "Ok. I'll just meet them there. Thanks." He turned to Carl. "Can you tell me where my friend is? How I find him?"

"At the Port Renfrew Hotel."

"How do I find that?"

"Go up Highway 14 all the way to the end, that's Port Renfrew. The hotel at the far end of town. Light blue wooden siding. Can't miss it." He smiled. "The Port's a really small place. Around 500 people."

"I don't know how to thank you." He moved away, headed for the door.

The Sergeant called out. "Hold on, sir. I did not say we would not investigate. That's my area. Carl, would you take that salmon to my wife and explain why I won't be in to supper. Again. You might want to make sure you have a clear run to your truck."

The shorter dark man laughed. "Now Mike, she is very understanding. Still married to you after 15 years, isn't she?"

"Yah.    Constable, make sure the others get the message and have Dave deal with these other messages as soon as he is in. Now," turning back to Jim, "I'm Sergeant Mike Koch. You are...?"

"Jim Ellison. Detective with Cascade PD."

Extending his hand to Jim, "Met a big police Captain from Cascade last year. Friend of the Victoria Police Chief."

Jim took his hand in a firm grip. "Simon Banks, my boss."

A slow grin. "Liked to fish, I recall." At Jim's nod, "Ok, we're on our way, Constable. I'll keep in touch as long as I can."

"Right, Sergeant."

Mike Koch gestured for Jim to proceed him from the station.  In the side lot, Jim stared at his truck, realizing that in such a small place, the out of country plates would stand out and Brunnell might even recognize the Ford. He turned to the Mountie. "Look, I don't want to put you in a difficult position but could I ride with you? He might know my truck."

"Sure. Just park yours around back and leave the keys with the Constable."

In a couple of minutes, Jim was back, carrying Blair's backpack and slipped into the passenger seat of the dark blue police 4X4. As he snapped the seatbelt into place, "How far...?"

"A little over an hour." Then as rain started to lash the windscreen, "Or longer. This storm is supposed to be a bad one." He pulled out of the detachment lot and back to the main highway headed north.

The door opening roused him. He glanced quickly; it was Brunnell. The Australian was now dressed in a soft cream shirt, dark green pullover sweater and brown trousers. He was carrying a leather jacket and a shop plastic bag.

"Thanks, kid. These clothes are more me. Not the quality, not much on style but better than the suburban idiot jogging suit from the ferry. Afraid not much left on your card."

Blair thought <Not likely I'm going to have to worry about it. >

"Now I'm in the mood for some supper. You won't be joining me but that's ok. Isn't it?" He threw the plastic bag on the other bed and hung up the jacket on the chair set at a small table. "I don't have to tell you to be quiet, do I?" He stepped menacingly toward Blair but the young man just stared blankly back, not caring if he invited another blow from his captor.

He did not react when Brunnell raised a hand, though he could not help crying out when the bigger man backhanded across his face.

After several miles of glancing at Jim's tense profile, Mike asked, "The guy who was taken, he is your partner? At the Casacade PD?"

A short, "Yes." Jim looked at the Mountie. "How did you know?"

"Expression on your face. Felt that way myself about partners in trouble. I'll go as quickly as I can but this rain on this twisty road...".

Jim's face relaxed a little. "Visibility is pretty bad. Don't take any chances." A pause; and "Sorry. Used to being the driver."

A smile at him, "Don't like being the passenger myself."

The wind was driving the rain straight into the windshield and the wipers were working hard to give them the little view they had. It was getting worse. Mike slowed and turned on the rear fog lights.

About ten miles later, as they came down a steep hill into a 180- degree switchback, Jim thought he saw something on the road and he pointed. The Mountie slowed even more. It was a deep rush of water, cascading down the rocky slope to their right and over the road toward the sea a short way away. They splashed through it, jouncing over the rubble that had come down in the water. The spray was coming up to the top of the side windows. Red, muddy water full of debris. Then they were through on clear road again but without warning the car's engine died and the 4X4 glided to a stop.

"Damn!" as Mike managed to get the car onto a narrow lay-by at the side of the road. "I think it's an electrical short. All that water. She's done it before."

"If you open the hood, I'll check. Maybe it's just a loose wire."

"You'll get soaked." But Jim was already out into the rain. Mike shrugged and popped the hood button. Jim disappeared for several moments, hidden behind the raised hood. Just as he came back to the passenger door again, there was a terrible crash close behind them. Jim started and clapped his hands over his ears, face grimacing. Mike reached over and opened the door. "Get in!"

He slipped in, face still distorted in pain.

"What was that?" Mike asked.

"Rock slide about 20 feet behind us. Just where that flooding was washing down. Trees too."

Mike whistled. "If we had stalled there...but we're parked under a rocky overhang now. Nothing will come down on us here."

Jim mumbled. "Rest a bit and then start off for Port Renfrew."

"She won't go now until the wires dry out."

"I know."

"You can't mean to walk? It's over 20 clicks, ah, kilometers up and down switchbacks. And in this storm."

"I can make it."

"Maybe on a dry day but the rain and wind...more rock slides or falling trees. I know this road in a storm. It's too dangerous, man. Can't let you do it."

He drew in all hard. "Doesn't matter," very quietly, "I have to."

"I know. Partners. But think, they won't be going anywhere in this either. Those are gale force winds. The sea will be too rough for a boat to come in. No airport at Port Renfrew and its too windy for a seaplane or helicopter. No road beyond Port Renfrew. They will still be there in the morning."

"Brunnell, he's not the sort to be patient. Might make him do something..." But Jim recognized the sense in what the Mountie was saying.  He pulled at his wet sweater, disliking the feel of the wet wool on his skin.

Mike twisted around and reached into the backseat. "Here, get out of that wet sweater and put this sweatshirt on." The dark blue sweatshirt had the Mountie insignia in the upper left corner.

He pulled the sweater over his head and Mike took it from him.

"I wondered why I had these hangers in the car." He put the sweater on a plastic coat hanger and suspended it from a hook over the rear left door to dry.  As he settled back in the seat, he prompted, "Brunnell?"

Jim tugged the warm sweatshirt down around his chest. "He's the escaped prisoner who kidnapped Blair. My partner, Blair Sandburg."

"Blair's an undercover cop." By way of explanation he added, "The description in the fax mentioned long hair."

"No. An anthropologist." At the surprized expression on Mike's face, "He's working on his PhD studying the Police Department. He calls us a closed urban tribal society."

"Oh. But he's your partner?"

A small gesture with one hand. "Not formally but in every other sense. He's more than studying us. Helps with cases. The kid knows so much, he always has something to contribute. An idea, a different way of seeing things, some obscure fact." Jim was smiling to himself. "Drove me crazy when I first met him, all that energy. The way he would bounce with excitement." He could see Blair in bounce mode in his mind's eye. "Didn't take too long before ...especially after he moved in."

"Moved in?"

Absently, "Yah, we live together." He suddenly became aware of Mike's interested stare. "His place blew up and he needed a temporary place to stay and time passed and he's still there with me after 3 years."

"Oh yah? Hard living with a live wire like that?"

A shake of his head. "He gives me so much more...makes things better. Became a good friend." He stopped and blushed.

"Partners can get like that some time. Closer than a wife."

An intense, "Oh yes. That's why I need to get him away from Brunnell." A hardening of his voice, "That creep is ruthless, a cold, dangerous bastard. Kill without hesitation."

The Mountie's expression was thoughtful for a moment. "He won't do anything to his hostage tonight, not while he can't get away. Port Renfrew is just a village. People would know. He wouldn't take such a chance."

Jim shifted his shoulders, as if relieving tension. "No, you're probably right. It's just that I hate the thought...".

"...of being here, not able to do anything. I do know that feeling. Had a rookie partner once, when I worked drugs in Montreal. Good kid but God, he was stubborn, wouldn't listen. Insisted on doing things his way."

A nod from Jim.

"Nearly lost him in one case. Thumped him good when we got back to the detachment. Next time out, same thing. Only. Only that time..." He stopped speaking and Jim turned to him. After a silence, "That's when I asked to move to a small detachment in a rural area. Not big enough to have partners. Not the same mean bastard perps you get in the big cities."

Jim sat still, remembering Jack Prendergast.

Mike sighed. "The ones we love, the way they work their way into us."

His voice was quiet but Jim heard the emotion. "The ones we love, yes." His eyes were unfocussed for a moment until he shook his head and looked back to Mike. "How old was he? Your rookie."

"Twenty one."

"Ah." A sigh, "Blair's seven years older."

"More mature."

"Not so you'd notice. Still does things, even after three years experience with the Department...".

Mike chuckled a bit. "Never going to grow up, and become responsible,eh?"

"No, I don't mean...not the same. It's the things he does to help me or someone else. Gets into trouble trying to help. Sometimes I could just..." His hands clenched hard on his knees, knuckles showing white. "He better not be..." .

Mike grunted in sympathy. "Having a partner can be rough but we can't stop loving them, can we?"

A 'yah' and then a more relaxed sigh. "I can be a real hard ass with him on occasion too. Especially just before we got together."

"But I thought you'd been together for over three years. How could you be tough on him before...? Oh."

Jim shifted. "I ...we're..." His face got hot and he waited for the sneer of disgust from the Mountie.

Matterof factly, "...lovers now." At Jim's nod, "That's great. The way your relationship grew from working together to friends to lovers. So much more of a chance it will last. Knowing and liking each other for some long while first and sharing the job. Seen the divorce stats for police officers, Jim? Terrible. "

Mike's easy acceptance surprized Jim but he relaxed, grateful to be able to release some of the tension he had been holding in. "Oh yah. Been there. But not with Blair." He paused. "Your attitude to two guys...".

"You're lucky finding a solid relationship. Older I get, the more I realize you take love where you find it, particularly when it's special. Like you and Blair."

"It is that." A low chuckle. "Sometimes we act like an old married couple. Actually we did even before we said anything about how we felt. I do feel like it can't end. Not ever. We've had fights and reconciliations but it doesn't change."

"Oh making up after a fight, that can be the best. My wife and I, we do it right and get completely away from everyone. Go off to a friend's cabin for the night."

"Nobody can beat Blair at making up. The things he's done. The things he's said..."

"We got a while here. Tell me. Then I'll tell you about me and my Pierrette."

Jim stared at the grinning Mountie and then laughed. "Why not. But don't tell him. He'd kill me ... or make me wish I was dead."

Blair groaned as he awoke, groggy from a restless and uncomfortable sleep and aware only after a moment of his current situation, his predicament. His right arm and shoulder ached from a long night of being locked to the brass headboard. He slid up the bed and attempted to work the cramping muscles quietly. The other bed in the room held his sleeping captor. He did not want to wake him, as a futile effort to delay whatever the man had planned for him. After several moments, the ache still there but less severe, Blair thought about the last twenty-four hours and worst, the sight of his partner lying unconscious with an unknown injury.

<Please, Jim, please, big guy. Be all right. Not that I'll ever know but please I don't care if I die as long as you are all right. >

Brunnell rolled over and stretched. Rising quickly he moved into the bathroom and closed the door. After a shower, the man came out and dressed in his new clothes. A sharp ringing and he answered his cell phone. He started to smile and closed off the phone with a short 'yes' his only comment.

"I'm going for breakfast. Don't go anywhere." His laugh was hard.

"Please, I need to pee again."

"So what? We'll be leaving in an hour or so. What do I care if you pee your pants." He left Blair with his thoughts.

The anthropologist took the refusal as a bad sign for his future.

A half-hour later, Brunnell came back upstairs and undid the handcuffs. Blair in tow, he dropped the room keys in the lobby and headed to the Viper parked next to the hotel. Blair was pushed into the passenger seat and locked with the handcuffs.  Brunnell got into the car but when he leaned forward to turn the key, nothing happened after an initial moan from the engine. He tried several more times and then slammed the steering wheel.

Wrenching open the door, he threw himself out of the car, opened the hood and stared darkly at it for several long minutes. Then he whirled and stalked back to the hotel. He found the manager in the small café.

"I need another car."

"Problem with yours?"

"Yes. Another car?"

"No rental place in town. Have to go to Sooke for that."

"Then give me the keys to yours."

"What?" followed by a chuckle. "Look man, the road's flooded, you know. Can't get down Highway 14. Just relax, they'll get her open as soon as possible. I can recommend the beach around Botanical Bay area as an interesting walk to pass the time."

"Give me the keys!" voice hard as stone. He had drawn a gun and was pointing it at the hotel manager's chest. The man's face went pale.

"Hey...here are my keys but that won't change the flooding. Some trees down too I hear."

"SHUT! UP!" He raised the gun slightly.

"Ok man. Don't get nervous."

Brunnell snarled. "Which one's yours?"

"The jeep...right beside yours."

"Stay there. Don't move or I'll..."

The manager raised his hands a bit higher. "Ok. Ok. I'll just sit here." He subsided back into the chair.

The Australian stalked away.

Brunnell unlocked Blair from the handcuffs and dragged him out of the car. Seeing this as his only chance, Blair threw himself at Brunnell's arm, knocking him down but going down into a wild tangle with him. The pistol fell to one side into a muddy puddle.

For a moment it seemed that Blair might get the upper hand but Brunnell was quick and strong. He punched the younger man in the stomach and threw his elbow into his face catching Blair's cheek a hard blow. The wind knocked out of him, Blair collapsed on the ground trying to recover his breath.

With a twist, Brunnell went for the gun but as his hand came down on the pistol's butt, a big arm slammed across his upper back from behind. The force of the blow pushed him face first into the puddle and jerked his hand sideways, so that he lost his grip on the gun.

Quickly, Brunnell threw himself backward into his opponent, slamming into his chest and face. A twist and the two men were grappling face to face. The man who fought Brunnell was larger and stronger but Brunnell was fast and ruthless in his attack.

The hotel manager had come out and knelt down to check on Blair where he was sprawled on the ground. The young man was just recovering his breath, one hand gingerly touching the contusion on his cheek with a soft 'ow'.

A few feet away, the fight was continuing. With a final hard punch, the big man laid Brunnell down and sat back, working on getting his own breath back.

Blair, half-rising, was alight with joy and cried out happily, "Jim! Oh Jim!"

As Mike pulled out his handcuffs and locked Brunnell's arms behind his back, Jim, now muddy and battered, staggered over and slumped down next to his partner. He took the smaller man into a close embrace. "Thank God, Chief." After a hug that Blair thought might crack ribs, Jim leaned back and cupped his chin. " Going to have a shiner out of that one, Babe."

A grin. "You too, big guy." His own hand went to Jim's temple and mouth, wiping away some of the mud and frowned when he saw the bruised crease disappearing into his hair. "You ok, man?"

"I am ...now."

A concerned, "Megan?"

"Going to make it." They smiled at each other, oblivious to their growing audience until Mike leaned down.

"So this is your partner."

Jim rose, helped Blair get up and put an arm around the young man, holding him close. "That's the right word. Partner."

Everyone grinned and relaxed. "Now," the manager asked, "what do we do with him?" pointing to Brunnell where he still lay unconscious on the ground.

"Can't take him back to Sooke yet. Big slide down the road at Loss Creek. Likely other spots too. There was a lot of stuff coming down on the Highway last night. Need to report in but my 4X4 is still back on the road. Damp wiring."

"Come on in, Sergeant and use my phone," the hotel manager volunteered. When the Mountie stared down at Brunnell, Jim said he would watch the prisoner.

Blair still standing within the circle of Jim's right arm, looked up at his lover. "Thank you. You saved my life. Again. But you shouldn't have jumped him unarmed.  Do you know how dangerous...". Jim started to laugh.

"What?!" Blair asked.

"You sound like me talking to you about some fool stunt you've pulled to save my butt."

"Oh well, reciprocal."

"Sure, Chief." His voice was full of affection and humour.

Faces were pink with pleasure and embarrassment. They were all saved when the Sergeant came back.

"It will be a while before they can get through what with the flooding and toppled trees and lots of other problems coming out of that storm. I told 'em we had the bad guy under control and to get to us when they could."

Jim glanced down at the reviving Brunnell. "We need to lock him up until then. He's a slippery one."

The hotel manager noted, "No jail here...at least not anymore." At Jim's raised eyebrow, "We used to have this...hoosegow for drunks and rowdies." A chuckle, "Called it Alcatraz. Now it's a cabin for rent. There is a shed behind the general store, got a lock on it."

Jim shook his head. "This guy is too good at escaping."

"Yah, " Blair noted. "He told me he trained with an escape artist. That's how he got out of those manacles."

"Manacles? Got some of those somewhere. Left over from the old days."

"Maybe we can figure a way to prevent him from undoing the manacles."

"Best to watch over him too."

"Who?"

"I could, Chief."

"You mean WE could. Like, take turns."

"No, you're injured, Chief."

"No worse than you are."

Mike stepped forward. "Excuse me. My responsibility, gentlemen. He is a prisoner of the RMCP."

"We could spell you." Jim volunteered.

"You didn't get much rest last night, Jim." Mike reminded. Jim nodded, looking at Blair who was flexing his sore wrists.

Hands gently taking Blair's wrists in his hands, Jim's face tightened as he saw the marks. "Handcuffed you to the bed?" At Blair's nod, "Then you could not have got much sleep."

The young man began to deny it but ended up mumbling, "Well, not the best. Actually what I am is starving."

Jim grinned. "Down to essentials, eh Sandburg? Well, me too. Mike, you must need something. No supper, no breakfast. Let's get this one dealt with and then deal with the inner men...persons. Beings. Whatever."

The hotel manager spoke up. "I'll call my cousin, Billy Hawk. He'll help out with the watching. Big strong guy. He's our Band watcher. The guy who always knows when things need to be done. Like he can hear for miles!"

Blair perked up at that. "Hey, he have other strong senses...sight, taste...?"

Jim's voice rumbled. "Sandburg!"

"Come on, Jim, could be some additional data here. Take the pressure off ...you know...you," at a half-whisper to his Sentinel.

"Relax, Chief. Not now."

The manager commented, "Well, he seems to see things other folks don't. Really observant. I'll go get those manacles and call him." He headed into the hotel.

"Sounds like a plan to me" Blair chirped, bouncing. "Oh food, I can't wait." Then he wiggled. "Oh, damn...another thing I can't wait for!" He ran toward the hotel. Jim was concerned until he heard Blair ask the manager where the closest toilet was.

Blair snuggled against Jim, pulling the blanket behind him. "You are so toasty warm."

"That's what you love me for, isn't it? My body heat. "

A chuckle. "Only when it's cold or damp, man. In the summer heat, I love the coolness up in the open loft, the effect of the fan. My old room was sooo stuffy."

Jim pushed at his lover, rolling him to his back and raising up to lean over him. He growled deep in his throat and stared down intimidatingly.

Blair sank into the soft mattress and pretended to be afraid. "Please, Pantherman, don't eat me! I take it back! Really!"

Jim pouted. "You don't love me for my body heat?"

Blair tried to keep from laughing but there was a giggle behind his words. "I love your body...in all its aspects. Heat. Buff muscles. Beautiful eyes. Hot mouth. Oh, so hot mouth. Talented hands. I love it best when you touch me." His voice dropped in timbre. "Touch me, babe. Put your hands on me."

Jim's body shuddered at the tone. He lowered down so that he was resting partially on Blair's left side. Supported on his palms, he pressed down from his chest to his thighs against the younger man, rocking forward and back slowly. He kept on increasing the weight he was putting on Blair.

His lover was groaning at the end of each rock, eyes closing and reopening to stare up into Jim's face. A rhythmic 'yes, yes, more, yes, yes, more,' over and over, inciting Jim to thrust harder. The big man realized how close he was to coming. He slowed and stopped, wanting this lovemaking last.

Blair protested, "No, no, man, please!"

"Easy, baby, lots to come."

"Kiss me then." The young man's voice was husky and demanding and Jim could not resist it.  He lowered his head and gently touched his lips to Blair's mouth, staying to the right side. "Harder, like you mean it!"

"Can't baby. You're all bruised on that side. Cut too."

"Doesn't matter! Do it! Need you to do it!" now pleading.

Jim cupped Blair's uninjured right cheek and shook his head slowly, as one finger caressed the anthropologist's right ear lobe. "Can't hurt you, love. Just can't. Your mouth looks so sore. My fault and I won't hurt you further." His hand moved to run one finger over the lush lips that were now pouting. "You understand that, don't you? Not wanting to hurt you?  Why I don't want to take you from behind."

Blair startled him by suddenly sucking the finger into the moist heat of his mouth and laving it slowing with his tongue. His eyes had gone all dark, pupils expanding so much that almost no blue showed. After a moment he released Jim's finger and sighed, "Not your fault, Brunnell's. He hurt you too. Oh, mine." He put on hand around the edge of Jim's head and tenderly touched the bullet crease, now a nasty bruise as livid as the one around his own mouth. "Damn him, he's not going to come between us. I need you. Make love to me. Please, I want you to touch me. Every part of me."  He moved upward to increase his connection with Jim's body.

Jim could feel the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood to his loins at Blair's words. It surprized him again how his lover could reach into his mind and heart. The bigger man's hands shook as he started an exploration of Blair's head and neck. Carding through his tangled hair, he gently freed the knots and enjoyed the silk of Blair's long hair. Again around the hair at the back of his head, his thumb caressing the warmth at the base of his skull. A soft sigh from Blair. His fingers slid along a square jaw and down to brush the throat. Blair tilted his head back on the pillow, exposing his neck to Jim's caresses. The big man's hand spread out encompassing the soft skin of the neck, feeling the flow of air and blood. He watched the throb at the base, fascinated to the edge of a zone.

Blair was alert to his situation. "Big guy? Come on, don't zone on me here, man. Jim!"

"I'm not zoning. I'm studying. Now I need to ...test." His mouth pressed to the side of Blair's neck where it met the flesh of his shoulder. He tongued the softness, tasting the essence that was his lover: salt, sweat, skin oils and a musky sweetness. "Hmm, like you have a sugar coating." he sighed. Then without thinking about it, he nipped and sucked hard at the junction of throat and clavicle.

Blair cried out and his body arched. A soothing lick of tongue washed over the spot, easing the pain. A deep 'mine' from Jim and Blair recognized Jim's primal need to reclaim his mate after the kidnapping by marking him. He only hoped the love bite would not show when he was dressed. He groaned, "Now you owe me a real kiss, big guy. Fair's fair." And he grabbed Jim's head and crushed his mouth to Jim's. It hurt but in his passion he did not care. He slipped his tongue into Jim's mouth and matched its movements with hip thrusts toward the heat of his lover's groin as hard as he could.

They rolled together onto their sides and their bodies seemed to align of their own will. One of Jim's hands which had been wandering through Blair's hair began a slow sensuous slide down Blair's back, smoothing back and forth over the satiny skin, memorizing all its textures and contours until he reached the cleft between the mounds of his ass. A hard finger ran lightly down the track and around one buttock, mapping its shape and grasping it to draw it away from its twin.

Blair was moaning under Jim's mouth but at last he drew his head back to inhale shakily, needing air. When one of Jim's fingers probed the entrance to his most private place, he grunted sharply and jerked against Jim's hold. "Oh God! OH! YESSS!"  The last rational thought he had for a while was that in time, Jim would get over his fear of anally penetrating his lover; that Blair just had to be patient and supportive. Then his brain relocated itself between his legs.

The finger moved further in and then withdrew, entered and escaped in a pattern that echoed Jim's pelvic thrusts. Blair rocked forward and back to meet each of his lover's thrusts, frantic to react to both hard penis and invading finger.

Jim was rumbling, almost growling deep in his throat, a sound so primitive and raw that the younger man was fired by it, all sensation ending in his aching penis.

Their movements became rough, wild, uncontrolled. Blair was aware of the contraction of his balls up to his body, the signal he was close to release. He tried to warn his lover but all he could manage through his panting was a ragged 'Jimmm!' before his body arched and froze as his semen was bursting forth. The bigger man's body tightened suddenly and a white viscid stream erupted from his aching shaft to mix with his lover's seed on their chests and bellies.

A paralyzed minute and they collapsed onto the bed, ragged breaths and pounding hearts seeking equilibrium. They touched each other gently as if reassuring themselves of the other's condition. Pats and brushes of fingertips over back, hip, shoulder, face. Last the face, eyes locked on each other's flushed and sweaty features.

A long slow smile from Jim that transformed his face, answered by a quick flash of joy from Blair.

"Love you, baby. So much."

"No one else for me too, lover. Just you."

Jim leaned over and grabbed the damp washcloth he had dropped on the night table earlier and cleaned them up. After dropping the cloth onto the table again, one hand combed through Blair's sweat- drenched hair. "You know I could not..." He stopped and swallowed whatever words he was going to say.

Words the young man wanted to hear. "Couldn't what, lover?" He ran a hand over Jim's shoulder and throat in a calming gesture.

His eyes closing as if in pain, "Couldn't live without you. So afraid he might...that when I found you, you would be...". He shivered.

Softly, "But I am right here in your arms. Don't you know I can never leave you? I am yours forever, locked to you as Guide and friend and lover by the forces of the spirit world. We can not be separated. We are two halves of a whole. The universe demands we be together!" Blair's eyes shone as he spoke with the fire of his belief and love.

Jim ran a hand up and down his lover's uninjured cheek and smiled. "You are more shaman than scientist, aren't you, guppy?"

Blair blushed but held his gaze on Jim's face steady. "I am both." A long stare and he took a deep breath, one hand resting on Jim's chest over his heart. Then, more relaxed but still excited, "Speaking of which, can we stay here for a couple of days? I so need to talk with Billy Hawk, the manager's cousin. Man, he has that manner, you know? The Sentinel look? In the eyes, the way he reacts to things? Did you see his expression when he met you? The way he...". As Jim began to chuckle, "What!?"

"I love you when you go into Anthropologist mode. I ought to warn the poor guy."

"Aw, Jimmm. He's another Sentinel. You can't ask me not to...".

"No, love, I wouldn't. I think we can stay for a day anyway. I will have to go and get my truck but Mike said he'd be glad to drop me off at the RCMP station where I left it. Once the road is open again." A sigh. "I have to thank God for Carl and Mike Koch. Without them..." He crushed Blair to his chest.

The young man hugged him back until Jim's arms tightened again and he groaned, "Can't breath, big guy."

Jim released him, "Sorry, gup."

"Jim?"

"Yah, gup?"

"Ah, you aren't going to call me that in front of other people, are you?"

"What? Don't you like it?"

"I love it...in private.  But jeez, when other people are around. I mean, it sounds so..."

"Soppy?"

"No, like I'm a kid."

"Oh baby, I never think of you as a kid." Jim's voice was all dark and husky under the teasing. He leaned in and close to Blair's mouth, whispered. "Now go to sleep and let an old man get his rest." A quick, almost chaste kiss on the lips.

They both settled themselves on the bed, pulling the comforter over rapidly cooling bodies.

"  'night, Jim."

"  'night, Johnboy."

A giggle from Blair and he snuggled happily against the bigger man, sliding with his lover toward sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

 Finis