Here it is, guys. Thanks to my betas, Deb Corbett, who inspired the 'rice glob' scene at the end and provided the title, world-class encourager MaryLynne and the ever-patient Shallan (cursed ellipses).
Java Head
Muted morning sensations nudged at Sandburg's consciousness, guiding him slowly to wakefulness. Not yet ready to emerge from his warm cocoon, he burrowed deeper into the blankets. He'd noticed that Jim liked to keep the loft cool, but with all the bedding on his bed, it provided the perfect atmosphere for sleeping.
A little earlier, he'd heard quiet noises in the kitchen, which he'd guessed was Jim making coffee. Now, fully awake, he heard only silence. But he hadn't heard the Sentinel leave or climb the stairs back to his room. Finally, curiosity won over and he crawled out of the warm bed and walked through the doorway into the living room.
Jim was standing with his back to Blair, looking out through the balcony doors. He stood ramrod straight, with his arms crossed over his broad chest. As with the night before, Blair was struck with the image of a Sentry on guard duty.
Hearing his Guide shuffle in, Jim turned to look at him. "Morning, Chief. How are you feeling?"
Blair flopped down on the sofa and stifled a yawn. "Pretty good, Jim. Better than I have in weeks, really."
"Since Alex Barnes grabbed you?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah. I think last night kind of recharged my batteries or something. I thought it was my imagination before, but it seems that I feel better when I'm with you..." His words trailed off. He looked uncertainly at Jim. "I guess we'll find out sooner or later if it really means something."
Jim walked to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee. Walking over to Sandburg, he handed the younger man a cup. "What are you doing today?"
"Thanks," Blair said, running his free hand through his long hair. "Um... today's Friday--" he looked up suddenly. "What time is it?"
"Almost nine."
"Okay. Well, I have classes from one 'til four. I thought I'd spend the morning reading through all that stuff I brought ho... er... brought in yesterday. Uh... what are you doing today?"
Jim sat on the other sofa, facing Blair. "I took the day off. Thought I'd help you."
"Hey, yeah! That'd be great. I could use some help. It's kind of a lot of stuff to wade through. But with both of us, we can get through a bunch of it in two or three hours. Why'd you take the day off?"
"I thought we needed the time to figure this Sentinel thing out."
"What did you tell your Captain?"
"Well, he knows about the sensory spikes. They had us both scared to death. I thought they were strokes or seizure of some kind. I told him I needed a couple of days to find some answers to my 'problem'."
"Does he know I'm involved?"
A smile tugged at Ellison's mouth. "Yeah. I had to assure him we weren't... um... an item."
Blair let his head flop back against the sofa. "Great. That's all I need." He lifted his head back up and looked curiously at Jim. "So what exactly did you tell him?"
Jim took a deep breath. "I said I needed a couple of days off, he asked why, I said I needed to take care of something, he asked if it involved the spells I've been having, I said yes, he asked if it involved you, I said yes, assured him we weren't dating, he said okay."
Blair stared at him wide-eyed. "I've never heard anyone say so much without taking a breath. Except maybe me."
Smiling, Jim got up and moved to the kitchen. "I've already had my shower, Chief. I'll fix breakfast while you take yours."
Sentinel and Guide spent the morning doing research. Jim was stunned at Blair's knowledge and intelligence. The kid was a walking encyclopedia. He talked excitedly about stuff Ellison never knew existed, hands gesturing, finger pointing, eyes shining. Smiling inwardly, Jim realized this was the true Blair Sandburg. The way he was before Barnes 'cursed' him and his life went to hell.
Curiously, Jim leaned forward. "How old are you, Chief?"
Surprised, Blair met his eyes. "Uh... nineteen."
Jim raised his eyebrows. "But you're a third year student."
Blair shrugged. "I started when I was sixteen."
"Wow," Jim said quietly.
Blair fidgeted nervously. "No big deal. I guess I'm kinda smart. Mostly I have a good memory."
"Sixteen year-old orphans don't go to college on a full scholarship because they have a good memory, Chief," Jim said with a smile.
Ducking his head, Blair blushed at the obvious pride in the Sentinel's voice. Geez, this went beyond weird. The warm feeling of pleasure at Jim's praise felt downright alien. Most of Blair's foster parents had been okay, encouraging his academic dreams. But this feeling of pride and... belonging. Blair just didn't know what to do with it. "Aw, g'wan, Ellison," he said sheepishly, waving him away. "You're embarrassing me, here."
Letting the kid off the hook, Jim chuckled and playfully rumpled Blair's hair, turning back to his books.
Jim was totally lost in the dusty manuscripts that Blair seemed to know like the back of his hand. But the younger man had given him a few pointers, words and phrases to look for, which were very helpful. The kid was a natural-born teacher.
By the time Jim's stomach announced the approach of lunch time, they'd actually gleaned some useful information from their search.
"Zone-Out's?" Jim couldn't believe what Sandburg was telling him. "You mean, like a trance?"
Blair was trying to be calm and rational, knowing how scary the whole thing must be. "Uh... well, yeah. I guess. It happens when the Sentinel concentrates so hard using only one of his senses, everything else fades out and he just... zones out."
"What's it feel like?"
"Heck, I don't know! I'm not a Sentinel."
"What'll I do about it?"
"That's what the Guide is for. To help prevent that."
"And what if you can't?"
"I dunno. Bring you out of it, I guess. Like I did your sensory overload."
"Yeah, that was bad. I guess if you could bring me out of that, you can bring me out of a zone-out. I just hope we don't have to find out," he said worriedly.
"You and me both, man." Blair glanced at his watch, a cheap digital affair. "Oh, hey! It's almost noon. I gotta go." He stood up and started scooping books and papers together.
Jim got up to help him. "I thought your class was at one."
"It is, but I'm gonna run by the campus bookstore. Last week Ozzie told me they might have an opening for a clerk. Thought I'd check it out." Blair carried his pile to his room. Jim followed with his own load.
"You need to eat lunch, Chief."
"Not hungry. I gotta hurry." They both set their loads on the bed.
"I'll fix you a sandwich while you get ready."
Blair pulled a flannel shirt over his long-sleeved T-shirt. "C'mon, man. I'm not..."
"Humor me, Sandburg." Jim walked out of the small bedroom before Blair could argue further.
Sandburg figured Jim couldn't fix a sandwich before he was ready, but by the time he put on his shoes, jacket and slung his back pack over one shoulder and walked out of his room, the Sentinel had the sandwich made, cut in half and wrapped in plastic wrap. He thrust it at Blair, the look in his eyes leaving no room for refusal.
Blair took the sandwich. "Thanks," he said weakly. Looking up at Jim he asked with a grin, "So what are you gonna do this afternoon, wax the driveway?"
"No, wise-guy. I'm going to go to the station. Maybe catch up on paperwork or something."
"Cool. I should be ho.... back by about six."
Jim smiled at the slip. He'd have to find an opportunity to let Sandburg know it was okay to think of the loft as home. As Blair said the night before, he had a feeling they were in this Sentinel/Guide thing for the long haul. "Call if you need anything. You got my cell phone number?"
Blair grinned and nodded. "No prob, man. I'm cool. Gotta go. Thanks." He saluted with the sandwich and breezed out the front door.
Blair was in trouble. He'd been just fine through his first class. Maybe a little touchy toward the end of the ninety-minute class, but okay. Then half way into his second class, he knew he was in real trouble. Subtly at first, then faster and stronger, he was picking up on emotions all around him. Pounding at his brain and eating away at his skin. He was deteriorating fast. He clenched his fists, trying to stop the tremors that seemed determined to rattle him to pieces.
Thankful that his seat was near the back of the class room, he slid low in the hard chair and supported his head with his fists, hoping to ride out the rest of the class without bringing unwanted attention to himself. If he could just get through another thirty minutes, he could get to the pay phone at the end of the hall and call Jim.
Ellison was making a noticeable dent in the pile of paperwork on his desk. He'd felt uneasy about Blair's absence all afternoon, but chalked it up to his very out-of-character protectiveness toward the kid. He'd resisted several urges to drive to Rainier to track him down and check on him. Finally, he buried himself in the mind-numbing work of writing reports, hoping to anesthetize his worry.
The Detective was jolted from his work when a nearby phone rang. It took a second for him to recognize the ringing of his cell phone. Glancing at his watch as he pushed the 'talk' button, he saw that it was 4:11. "Ellison."
"...Jim?"
"Sandburg?" Alarmed by Blair's shaky voice, Jim sat straight up in his chair. Noticing other people looking at him, he dropped his voice. "Chief, what's wrong?"
"I don't... know... I need you... please come get me." He sounded weak and dazed.
"Where are you, Blair?"
"Anthro building... basement... room 17."
"Hang on, Kid. I'm on my way." He ended the call and, grabbing his jacket, rushed from the bullpen.
Trying to shake off a feeling of panic, Ellison forced himself to drive like a sane person, though he did break a few speed limits and traffic laws when he judged it to be safe to do so.
He finally reached Rainier University. Having been on campus a few times, investigating crimes, he was familiar enough with it to find the Anthropology Department quickly. Since it was late in the day on the beginning of a weekend, there were few people around so Jim found a parking spot right in front of the building.
Hurriedly, he make his way to the basement floor and found room 17. Worried about what he'd find, he cautiously opened the door and peaked In. The lights were out and the room was vacant. "Blair?" he called quietly.
"Here, Jim," a voice whispered. Jim moved to the desk and looked behind it. Sandburg sat huddled on the floor, back pressed into a corner. His knees were drawn up and his trembling arms were wrapped around his chest.
Jim knelt beside Blair and rested his hand on the student's shoulder. "Talk to me, Sandburg. What's wrong?"
With effort, Blair lifted his head from its resting place on top of his knees. He cracked open eyes cloudy with pain. "Don't know, Jim... Gotta be this empath thing... emotions... like fire... ice... battering my mind... brain feels fried." He closed his eyes tight again and turned his head away. "Had to hide... knew this room was empty."
Jim cupped the side of Blair's face and winced at the cold skin. "Can you stand, Chief? Can you walk?"
Blair seemed to think about it then gave a slight nod. "Think so."
Carefully, the Sentinel pulled him to his feet. When he was sure Blair wouldn't topple over, Jim leaned down to snag the ubiquitous back pack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder. Putting his other arm around Blair, he supported the young man as they walked out to the truck.
Jim noticed how easily Blair leaned into him, trusting Jim to take care of him. Looking down, he could see the lines of pain in Blair's face easing slightly. The kid seemed warmer, too. "How long have you been hurting, Chief? You seemed fine earlier."
"I was... okay for awhile. Seemed like all... my barriers... rotted away after... couple hours."
They reached the truck and Jim opened the passenger side door, then helped Blair in. The sentinel leaned over Blair and fastened his seat belt. As Jim moved his hand away, the younger man grabbed it weakly, causing Jim to look into his eyes. "Sorry 'bout all this, Jim."
Warmly, Jim squeezed the smaller hand. "Don't apologize, Chief. It's no trouble. Besides, you didn't ask for this." He patted the thin shoulder and shut the door.
Driving home, Blair could actually feel the bond radiating between them, warming him and giving him strength. By the time they reached the loft, he was able to walk alone, only needing Jim to hold his arm. Once inside, Jim led the young empath to the nearest sofa, easing him down on it. Carefully, the Sentinel pealed Blair's jacket off then gently pushed him to lie down on his side. Reaching across, Jim snagged the afghan lying on the back of the sofa and covered the smaller man with it. Resting his hand on the top of the curly head, he smiled as he felt Blair sink into a deep sleep.
Jim went into the kitchen to make some coffee for himself. He also put the tea kettle on to boil in case Blair woke up. He'd noticed that the kid almost had an obsession for herbal teas. His own coffee had finished and he was pouring some into a mug when his cell phone rang. Quickly, he answered it before it woke Blair.
"Ellison," he snapped into the receiver.
"Jim, where the hell are you?" Captain Banks yelled over the phone, causing the Sentinel to wince.
"Captain, Simon, I'm sorry, Sir. I had an emergency and I forgot to call you."
"What happened?" Banks lowered his voice but didn't alter his tone. His Detective had skipped out on him and he was in a bad mood.
"Ah... I... uh... I had to go... pick up Sandburg, Sir."
"Sandburg! That kid? What's going on?"
"He got sick, Sir."
"What are you, his mother?"
No, I'm his Sentinel.
"He got really sick, Simon. He wasn't up to driving." Wasn't even up to walking.
"If he's that sick, maybe he should be in the hospital," Banks growled.
"Ah, no sir. Uh... he's okay now." I hope.
"Jim, you listen to me. Monday morning, I want you and Sandburg in my office. You'd better have whatever is going on with you straightened out and I want an explanation? Do you hear me?!" Banks' voice had reached a crescendo that had Ellison holding the phone away from his ear. He barely had time to emit a "Yes, Sir" before Banks slammed the phone down.
Jim stood looking at the receiver in his hand. "That went well," he said quietly. He glanced at Blair, who was still sleeping, apparently oblivious to any disturbance quieter than a nuclear blast. Giving in to that annoying protective feeling, Jim walked quietly to the sofa and rested the back of his hand on Blair's pale face. The skin was still chilled. Jim went to the other sofa and, pulling the afghan off, spread it on top of the one already covering the student. Tucking the edges around Blair's shoulders, Jim let his fingers brush slowly across the cold cheeks, feeling tingles drift between them. The young man leaned into Ellison's touch and sighed contentedly. Reluctantly, Jim withdrew his hand and left the room, deciding it would be a good time to do laundry.
Sandburg cracked open his eyes. Where...? Oh, the loft. How did I get here?
He had been at the University all afternoon. He could feel his mental barriers eroding quickly, but thought he'd be alright. He barely made it through his last class and by then knew he was in real trouble and had to get hold of Jim. The pain was the same as the other night at the library only worse. Blair knew it was his empathic barriers and the Sentinel was the only person who could help him.
He remembered standing at the pay phone in the basement, his badly trembling fingers trying to dial Jim's cell phone number. Thank goodness for touch dial phones. He'd never have made it with a rotary phone. As he'd waited in the dark corner of the empty classroom, all he could do was curl up tight and try to keep from shaking to pieces, hoping and praying that no one else came in. He'd never been so glad to see anyone as when Jim finally arrived.
Experimentally, Blair braced his arms and sat up. Though he was no longer in pain, he was weak and shaky. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He recognized the bare, vulnerable feeling of his barriers being gone. Why? What had happened? Frustrated, he pulled his fingers through his tangled hair. He wished there was a handbook or something he could consult. Why could he find nothing on the guides in any of the sentinel references? Or maybe the guides were just normal men partnered with the sentinel and he, Blair, was simply a freak. What was gonna happen to him? He couldn't survive in society like this -- beaten down and paralyzed by people's emotions. He'd go insane!
Just then, Jim, who had been in the basement, entered the room. He'd been keeping tabs on the young man by listening to him sleep. He knew Blair had woken up when his breathing changed and his heart beat picked up, but had been alarmed to hear both speed up to signal that the empath was in distress.
Worried, Jim rushed to Blair's side but drew back a little when he saw him flinch. "Chief, what's wrong?"
Blair sought refuge in the pillow he'd been laying on, trying to escape Jim's worry which ground at his brain like gravel and mud. "Calm down, Jim," he gasped. "Stop worrying. It hurts," he begged.
Immediately, the Sentinel sought to calm himself. Drawing on years of military training, he took slow, deep breaths and relaxed the tight muscles in his body. After a few seconds, he knew it was working when he heard Blair's breathing and heartbeat return to normal. When he opened his eyes, though, he saw that Sandburg still had his face buried in the pillow. Carefully, Jim reached out and put his hand on the tense shoulder. "Blair, what's wrong?"
The student turned his head to look at the older man, his face etched with grief and fear. "My barriers... my mental barriers... gone, they're gone! They were badly deteriorated before, but now they're all gone." His voice cracking with despair, he desperately clutched the Sentinel's hand. "What's going to happen to me, Jim? What am I going to do? I can't protect myself like this!"
With Blair's distress rushing at him, Jim had to pull strength from deep within himself to remain calm. Forcing his own fear down into hidden recesses, he slid from the sofa to kneel in front of Blair. Taking the young man's face in his hands, he looked into the haunted blue eyes.
"Sssssshhhh," he whispered gently. "It's okay, Chief. We'll figure it out. We're together in this, okay? I'm not going to leave you alone." Softly, he brushed the long, brown curls away from Blair's face. Nothing Jim had ever trained for was of any use here, so he let the Sentinel instinct that he now recognized take over. Shifting slightly away from his Guide, Jim lifted Blair's legs up to rest on the sofa. Moving back, he settled on the floor beside the student. Taking a cold hand in his larger one, and resting his other hand again on the side of Blair's face, he looked into the too large eyes. This time, instead of fear, they shone with trust.
Blair's own instinct kicking in, he knew that Jim meant for their minds, their souls, to bond again. Blair reached out with his free hand and laid it on the side of the Sentinel's neck and, closing his eyes, let his mind reach out for Jim's. As their minds met and joined, the empath whispered, "Don't let me fall."
The bond was easier this time. Gentler. Sentinel and Guide knew more of what to expect. Jim was careful, keeping his more virulent emotions at bay and Blair was more in control. Instinct told them that they needed this. This was the glue that held them together in this strange and unique partnership. And this was what would heal and strengthen the Guide.
Ellison woke up when he heard the rain drops tapping on the window pane. He rolled onto his back and lay staring at the skylight above his bed. Experimentally, he stretched out his hearing to focus on the room below his. Apparently the rain hadn't disturbed Sandburg. His breathing was slow and deep and he was still.
Jim had lived in Cascade all of his life, except during his military days, and he liked the cool, wet weather that the state of Washington was known for. The sound of the steady falling rain and of Blair's breathing had calmed and relaxed him. Sleepily, he replayed the evening's events in his head.
When he and Blair bonded, Blair's mental barriers had apparently been restored. Though drowsy and disoriented, his symptoms of shock were gone. Jim had experienced no changes in his own condition, except that he felt calmer and reassured of his Guide's well-being.
On the other hand, he was troubled by Blair's emotional overload earlier in the day. Why had Blair reacted so badly to the emotions of the people at the University? The previous day, he'd been fine when they'd met for lunch -- a little worn and stressed, but fine nonetheless. But that had been before they'd connected -- bonded the first time.
What had he done? Was it really the joining of their minds that had weakened Blair's barriers? If so, it was his fault. Jim had pressed the kid pretty hard about their 'destiny' until Sandburg had finally relented. And because of the Sentinel's obsessiveness, they may have no further choice in their future. Blair would have to stay with him forever -- or go insane.
Ellison heard a stirring below him and Blair's breathing became short and uneven. Quickly, Jim calmed down his troubled thoughts, then was further distressed when Sandburg quieted back down. Their connection was strong. But at what price to Blair?
Unable to keep a reign on his emotions, Jim threw back the blankets and got out of bed. Quickly pulling on warm clothes and shoes, he trotted silently downstairs and, snagging his jacket from the coat hook near the door, hurriedly left the building.
A sharp sensation of loss jerked Blair rudely from his sleep. His earlier weakness gone, he moved quickly from his bed and into the living room. Turning around, he looked up toward Jim's room. "Jim?" he called softly. Hearing no movement, Blair swiftly, silently climbed the stairs. His eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he saw that the Sentinel was gone.
Normally, a grown man (a cop, yet) leaving in the middle of the night would be no big deal. But there was nothing normal about him and Jim. Not anymore.
Hurrying back to his room, Blair slipped on socks and shoes and pulled on a heavy shirt with the sweats he'd slept in and his coat. Trusting that the highly organized Ellison had his keys, Blair locked the door behind him. This was Cascade, after all.
Blair stopped on the sidewalk in front of Jim's building, trying to figure out where the Sentinel would have gone. To his left were the bright lights of uptown. Right before he woke up, Blair's sleep was interrupted by feelings of distress. If that had been Jim's influence, the Sentinel would seek solitude in the middle of the night. Turning to his left, Sandburg hurried in the direction of the quieter side of town.
Blair walked past small shops and businesses then private homes, his urgency to find Jim wrestling with the necessity to search carefully for his Sentinel.
His Sentinel. Weird. But what else could they be but Sentinel and Guide? They had been thrown together and had instantly clicked. Two hardened loners, each with a lifetime of self-sufficiency and mistrust branded into their souls. Then there was their bond. They had touched minds. Had joined their souls. It still scared Blair. The whole Sentinel/Guide connection kept getting bigger. Blair wasn't sure he could take much more. He hoped they were about through with all the earth-shaking surprises.
Irritated and worried, Blair glanced at his watch. He'd been walking for about fifteen minutes. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Jim had walked uptown. He knew the cop was on foot. He'd seen the truck in its parking spot in front of the loft. He'd look for five more minutes and then... there he is!
The student found himself in a large park. Ellison was standing at the shore of a small lake, in his usual pose, gazing straight ahead, arms crossed over his chest.
Sandburg felt immense relief. "Jim?" he called softly, not wanting to startle the man. When the Sentinel didn't move or show any sign that he'd heard him, Blair felt a prickle of unease. Quickly, he moved to stand beside Jim. Looking up at the strong face, he stifled a gasp as the prickle turned into a grip of fear. Ellison didn't move. His open eyes weren't blinking, weren't seeing. Alarmed, Blair stood in front of Jim and grabbed his biceps. "Jim. Jim, what's wrong?" Nothing. Blair waved his hand in front of Jim's face. Nearing panic, Blair held his fingers directly in front of Ellison's slightly open mouth. There. He felt a breath. But it was very faint. He couldn't see in the near-dark, but he wondered if the Sentinel's lips were turning blue.
The student's eyes widened in realization. A zone-out. This was a zone-out! Omigosh! What was he gonna do? Wait. Hold on! He was an empath. A Guide. Jim's Guide, to be exact! Jim had been sure of it almost from the start. And after all the bonding, melding, meshing crap, Blair doubted it no longer. He didn't know what else his hellacious empathy was good for, but this -- the Sentinel/Guide thing. This is definitely what it was for!
Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hands around Jim's biceps in a firm grip and looked into the pale blue eyes. And nearly lost his resolve. Jim's eyes -- funny how a guy who obviously had a lifetime of showing no emotion could have such expressive eyes -- were dead. No light or emotion. Dead. No.
Blair moved his trembling hands up Jim's arms and shoulders to cup the face, feeling the cold skin beneath his palms. "Come on, Jim. It's Blair. It's me. You need to come back. You're in a zone-out. You were wondering what it was like and now you're finding out. So, now I really need for you to come back and tell me all about it and I need you to come back now because to tell you the truth, I'm getting seriously freaked out here and I'm gonna lose it if you don't come back now!" Blair realized he was almost yelling, but he couldn't calm down. There was still no life in Jim's eyes that now seemed almost colorless.
Beyond reasonable thought, motivated by mindless fear, the empath threw his arms around Jim and buried his head in the Sentinel's shoulder. "Come on, Jim," he whispered. "Please come back. It's time to wake up now. I don't know where your senses have taken you, but I need you... need you to come back to me." Blair closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, knowing he was on the verge of a panic attack.
"Follow my voice, Jim. Follow me back. You said we belong together, but you've wandered off someplace where I can't go. So you need to come back." Letting one hand slide up to cup the back of Jim's neck, Blair concentrated and willed his warmth -- his presence -- to reach the Sentinel. "Come on, Jim. Come back to me."
His whispered litany continued for he knew not how long. Finally, he felt the muscles beneath his embrace clench then relax and he heard the Sentinel take a deep, shaky breath. Blair's knees went weak with relief and he had to hold onto Jim just to keep from falling to the ground.
Jim's arms went hesitantly around the younger man. "Chief, you okay?"
Blair pulled back, returning his grip to Jim's arms, and looked up at the detective. "I'm fine, now that you're breathing," he replied shakily.
"I stopped breathing?" Ellison asked uneasily.
Blair shook his head. "Not altogether, but it was very shallow."
"What happened?"
Blair tugged on the muscular arm and the two men started walking back in the direction of the loft. "I think you were in a zone-out." The student peered at Ellison. When the older man didn't say anything, Blair said, "Tell me what happened."
"I couldn't sleep. I was... I was upset over what happened to you today. I think I was bothering you... your sleep. So I went for a walk."
"Yeah, I think I felt you. Then I woke up when you left. Like our... bond... was cut off. Anyway, I knew something was bothering you. I had a feeling something might happen to you."
"I was fine. I walked some of my steam off. When I calmed down, I found myself at the park. At the lake."
"What did you zone out on?"
Jim grinned. "When I was a kid, there was a story about baby alligators living in the lake. Tonight, I saw slow moving ripples in the deep part. I knew it wasn't a duck. The movement was all wrong. I was trying to see what it was. Next thing I knew, you were wrapped around me, sounding like you were close to cracking up."
"I was," Blair admitted. "I don't know how long you were out, but it seemed like forever. I was afraid you might stop breathing. I didn't know if I could pull you out."
Jim stopped walking and put his hand on Blair's arm, halting him. Blair's nervous tirade ceased as he looked up at the Sentinel's serious expression.
"What?" he asked. "Jim, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Chief. Thanks to you." But the worried look belied the warm words.
"What then?"
Jim dropped his hand away from Blair's arm and rubbed his suddenly tired eyes.
"Jim, what is it?" Blair insisted.
"Chief, I think the bond did more than just connect our minds. Something more... permanent."
Blair dropped his eyes, but not before Jim caught a look of guilt.
"What is it, Blair? What do you know?" he asked kindly.
Sandburg resumed his walking. He wasn't walking away, but Ellison recognized the student's need to move around when faced with a difficult situation. Patiently, the Sentinel walked beside him, waiting.
"I'm not sure, Jim. It's just an idea -- a feeling. Today could have been a fluke. I'm really not sure what happened."
"Your barriers deteriorated."
Blair nodded. "Yeah."
"Why?"
"I was around so many people."
"Why so fast? Why was it so bad? This didn't happen yesterday. Why? What was different?"
"We... bonded."
"Why would that make your barriers so... vulnerable?"
"I don't know. Maybe we... maybe we can't be... separated... for very long." His voice drifted away, almost fearful. Ellison heard his heart speed up. He wrapped his strong fingers around Blair's arm, stopping him in his tracks.
Blair couldn't stand the intense scrutiny of the piercing blue eyes. He slid his arm out of the Sentinel's grip and folded his arms in a defensive posture, stepping away from the older man. "I didn't know," he said, shaking his head.
Before the kid could move further away, Ellison stepped forward, closing the distance between them and gripped the thin shoulders with both hands. "Chief." Quiet. Desperate. He had to get this right. The kid was afraid he was angry. Afraid he was going to kick him out. Push him away. Abandon him. Never. "Blair. I am not angry. I know you didn't know this was going to happen. If you remember correctly, I pushed you into this bond. I am not -- repeat -- not going to abandon you." He waited a moment to let that sink in. "Understand?"
Blair nodded. "Yes," he whispered.
Jim held his eyes a moment before dropping his hands. Putting a hand on Blair's back, he gently nudged him forward and they resumed walking.
Blair was painfully silent beside Jim. The older man had assured him that he wouldn't abandon him. But he was still afraid. So afraid of being left alone and all of his earlier fears came rushing back at him. He realized just now that they hadn't been dispelled as he'd thought. They'd just been momentarily hidden by the safety and healing shelter of their bond.
Blair looked up and saw that they had reached Jim's building. Jim's hand was once again on his back, reassuring, guiding him. When they finally entered the front door of the loft, Blair silently pulled off his coat and headed for his room, but was stopped by Jim's hand on his arm. He looked up fearfully at the Sentinel.
Jim looked tenderly at the face in front of him. Fearful. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Oh, Blair. What can I do to wipe that look off your face? He reached down and lifted Blair's hand up, threading his fingers through Blair's. "Remember, Chief? Remember the bond? It's forever. We're forever.
"What if... you... we."
"No." His voice firm, quiet. "I don't know -- we don't know everything about this -- about the future, but I will never, never cast you away, Blair. Never. Please believe me."
"I want to, Jim. I know I should and I want to believe you so much."
"Chief, even if I wanted to leave you, I don't think we have a choice anymore. And even if we did," his voice deepened with emotion, "I wouldn't change it. Don't you feel it, Blair?" Jim's grip tightened, then he pulled Blair into a tight embrace. "Can't you feel it?" he begged.
The student stayed still for a moment, soaking up the warmth of the promise Jim gave him. His head told him not to believe the promise. Not to believe what he felt. But Jim's words, Jim's presence, told his heart otherwise. And Blair chose to believe his heart this time. He knew his head would continue to nag at him. But hopefully, it would eventually die under the security of Jim's love and acceptance.
Lightly, he patted the Sentinel's chest with his fingertips. "I feel it, Jim. I feel it." Then he pulled his arms from their trapped position between their bodies and wrapped them around Jim, returning the hug.
Captain Simon Banks looked incredulously from one man to the other. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sandburg killed the urge to squirm. He was definitely picking up bad vibes from the tall black man.
Beside Blair, Ellison sat stone-faced, apparently unfazed by the burning scrutiny of his boss. He laid a calming hand on Blair's wrist. The gesture did not go unnoticed by the Captain.
"Heightened senses?"
"Yes Sir," Ellison responded, coolly.
"Why do I feel like the butt-end of a bad joke?"
"I can prove it, Sir. A simple demonstration, if you like."
"Please do."
Blair watched as Jim lifted his head slightly as if he were smelling something. Jim smiled. "You stopped in at Records downstairs this morning to talk to Marilyn, that new clerk."
"How did you--?"
"She wears that disgusting Vanilla Musk. I can smell it on you."
Simon pursed his lips. "Lucky guess. I stop in there three mornings out of five."
"Okay." Jim thought a moment then smiled again. "You need to get a new battery for your watch. It stopped running."
Banks looked at his wrist then back at Ellison. Jim tapped his ear.
Slowly, Banks leaned back in his chair. "And this is what was causing Your... spells?"
"Yessir. Sometimes my... senses are 'turned up' too high and when things are too loud or bright, for example, then I lose control."
"Control?"
"Of my senses. Like a..." Wincing at the memory. "...lightning blast going through my brain."
Simon grimaced at the image. "That bad?"
"Sometimes, yes," Ellison assured him.
Banks looked at the floor for a moment. 'Processing,' Blair thought. Sentinel and Guide silently watched him. Ellison's hand still rested on Blair's wrist and the empath could feel Jim sharing his strength and calm comfort through the bond. The words, 'electric blanket' flashed through Sandburg's mind and he had to shove down the snicker that rose within him. A glare from his Sentinel added the motivation to completely quell any remnants of hysterical giggles.
Suddenly, Banks swung his gaze up at Blair. "And what do you have to do with this?" he demanded.
"Sir, Sandburg--"
"Let the kid talk for himself, Detective," Banks growled.
Blair swallowed, then sat up straighter, pulling his arm gently from Jim's hand. "Well, Sir, I... um... I know what's going on with Ji-- Detective Ellison," he said carefully. "And I think I know how to help him."
"Help him what, exactly?"
"Control his senses, Sir."
Banks waited for more.
"Uh... so he won't be overwhelmed by sensory input and to use his senses as an asset to his work."
Banks thought about this for a moment then nodded, a minutely more tolerant look on his face. "You plan to keep this thing a secret?"
Blair blurted out, "Of course! The consequences of--"
"I was talking to Detective Ellison!" he said sharply.
"Yes, Simon. The consequences," Jim said bitingly. "Not to mention anyone actually believing it."
Simon reigned in his temper. "Sorry, but this is a bit much to swallow." He looked at Blair. "Sorry, Sandburg. I didn't mean to bite your head off."
Blair simply nodded.
"Are you still able to return to work?" he asked Jim.
"Of course, Sir."
"So, is this... Sentinel thing fixed?"
"I don't know what you mean by 'fixed', Sir. But as Blair said, we'll be working on ways to control it."
Banks gave the pair one last piercing gaze then dismissed them. "Fine. Get to work."
Wasting no time, they exited the office.
Blair had morning classes. Jim had driven him to Rainier yesterday to retrieve his car and he had followed Jim into the station this morning. Jim now walked downstairs with him on his way to the parking lot.
"Can't you call in sick, Chief? I'm not sure you're ready to go back to class."
"Jim, I can't hide in the loft forever. Besides, it's finals week. Look, I know what it feels like now when my barriers start to crumble. If I feel it happening, I'll leave class early before it gets too bad. Or I'll call you. Okay?"
They had reached the Corvair and Jim grasped Blair's shoulder. "Here, I got you something." He handed the student a new cell phone.
"Gosh, Jim." Stunned, Blair took the phone.
"I don't want to have to worry about you making it to a phone. Call me if anything happens. Okay?" Jim reached up and gently touched the back of Blair's neck, feeling the bond tingling in his hand. In reply, Blair softly touched the Sentinel's jaw, feeling energy crackle at the skin to skin contact. He grinned.
"Okay, man. Thanks." Forcing himself to break contact, he turned and got into his car.
Blair shook his head at himself as he pulled onto the highway. I feel like a newlywed on my first day back to work. It almost hurts to leave. Damn, I miss him already.
He felt empty. He and Jim had been together almost constantly over the weekend. They had barely left each other's sides and had repeated the bonding the night before. To top it all off, Jim was suffering from a truckload of guilt. He felt that he had coerced Blair into what seemed to be a life sentence of biological dependence. So far, they had not been able to determine that Jim would suffer any physical symptoms if he and Blair were separated for a long amount of time. Last night's bonding had been the Sentinel's idea.
"What's the deal, Jim? I'm fine. We're fine," Blair protested as they settled on the floor facing each other.
"Tomorrow, I go back to work and you go back to school. We may be apart all day. Think of it as an energy booster, Chief. I don't want a repeat of Friday."
Remembering his empathic overload, Blair shuddered inwardly. "Good point, man."
Blair wondered if the emptiness was a natural reaction of the newly bonded Sentinel/Guide pair being separated, or if it was a typical human reaction after several days of intense emotional discovery and upheaval and of nearly constant companionship.
He and Jim were both alone and lonely people, thrust into a situation where they were suddenly and completely dependent upon one another. Add to that the fact that there were few -- very few -- other people they could tell any of this to. Their isolation from other people and their dependence on each other increased even more. Blair suddenly felt very lonely and wanted Jim so badly he could barely breathe.
Lost in thought and trying to get his emotions under control -- geez, this is stupid -- Blair jumped when his new cell phone rang. He slowed down a little so he could fish around in his bag to retrieve the phone. Fumbling with the buttons, he finally found the right one and pressed.
"Jim?"
"Blair, how'd you know it was me?"
Blair grinned. "You just gave this to me. You're the only one who knows the number."
"Are you okay? You sound a little shaky."
Blair's grin melted. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just... uh," he swallowed. "It's just... hard to leave after the last few days... you know?"
Jim's voice softened. "I know, Chief. Wanna meet for lunch?"
"I have classes 'til one today. I thought I'd head... home... after I check with Oz again at the bookstore. I'll eat then."
"Just steer clear of the Chancellor today. I'll call you later this afternoon. Okay?"
"Sure, Jim. Thanks."
"See you this evening, Kid."
"Bye, man."
Sandburg stepped slowly through the doorway, thankful that Jim had given him a key to the loft the day before. The man thought of everything. He pushed the door shut behind him and headed straight for the nearest sofa, dropping down on it. Carefully, he set his back pack on the floor beside his feet and ran a hand through his long hair.
The morning had gone pretty well. Blair had been able to avoid hostile emotions for the most part. That only made sense, though. Monday mornings were made for apathy, an ideal environment for an empath. Still, he was tired and weak, as though he'd gone too long without eating. And he knew that wasn't the case because Jim had fed him a huge breakfast, insisting he eat every bite.
Blair suspected that the extremely protective behavior (dare he use the word 'maternal'?) was part of the Sentinel package. Whereas Jim was a great guy, he didn't strike Blair as the 'sensitive and caring' type. Blair wondered if this behavior extended to all people or just to the Guide? Man, he needed to take notes, but he was just too tired. Sinking to a horizontal position on the sofa, he fell asleep.
Blair was pulled from a heavy sleep by an annoying chirp. "Jim, kill that cricket, willya?" Finally he realized the cricket was the cell phone in his bag. Forcing his eyes open, he leaned off the sofa enough to reach into his bag to retrieve the cell. Clumsily, he pressed the 'talk' button. "'Lo?"
"Sandburg, it's Jim."
Blair winced at the loud voice. "Ow, not so loud, man."
"Sorry. You okay? Took you a long time to answer."
"Takin' a nap."
"Are you alright? You sound hung over."
"Feel like it. 'M okay, though. Just tired."
"Did you have lunch?"
Blair sighed, exasperated. "You are so predictable, man," he said affectionately.
"I'll take that as a 'no'."
Blair rolled to his back. "What time is it?"
"Around four."
"When will you be... uh... home?"
"Couple hours. Six or so. Are you going to be okay until then?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm a little shaky still, but I'll be okay as long as I don't go anywhere... you know... around people." Blair blew out his breath in frustration, which the Sentinel easily heard. And felt.
"It's okay, Blair." His voice deepened to a comforting timbre. "We're gonna be okay."
"Promise, Jim?" It was a rhetorical question, Ellison knew. But Blair needed to hear him say it.
"Bet your life on it, Chief."
"I already have," Blair said calmly.
Jim was struck by the enormity of his words, reminded harshly of the sacrifice Blair had inadvertently made when he agreed to bond with the Sentinel. "Damn, Chief," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
"Aw, Jim. I didn't mean to -- please don't go all guilt-ridden on me," Blair begged. "It's okay. You're right. We're okay. You hear me?"
Ellison drew in a breath. "Yeah, Chief. I hear you." Regretfully, he said, "I gotta get back to work, kid."
"Okay, man. I'll expect you around six."
"Take it easy, Chief. Now go eat something. And don't go anywhere."
"Can I get off the sofa?" Blair asked sarcastically.
"Can't eat if you don't get up, wise guy."
"Gee, thanks."
"Anytime, Junior."
"I really mean it, Jim. Thanks."
"For what, Blair?"
Blair swallowed before he spoke. "For sticking with me when things got weird. For helping me out in the first place."
"Aw, Chief -- whoops, sorry Blair. Gotta go. Simon's yelling for me and he does not look happy."
"Okay, man. See ya soon." Blair pressed the 'end' button then pushed himself to a sitting position, letting out a slow, shaky breath. The situation was still frustrating and a little scary. And he had to admit he was a little angry, too. But he was really, really glad he was connected to Ellison. With a rush of fear, he realized that may have been what Barnes was trying to do. To connect with him. And she was still out there somewhere.
Blair leaned over and rested his forehead in his open palms. What he and Jim had concluded as destiny may have been simple biology. Perhaps the two men had been instinctively drawn to each other. Just as Barnes had been drawn to him. He hadn't thought much about her, preferring to push all thoughts of her to the dark corners of his mind. Which wasn't hard to do with the overwhelming job of dealing with the implications of his and Jim's bond. But he now realized her business with him was not over.
Blair had an overwhelming desire to lock all doors and windows. So he spent the next half hour doing just that.
Having secured the loft to his satisfaction, Blair glanced at the clock on the microwave and saw that it was nearly 5:00. He had time for a quick shower, then he'd surprise Jim by having supper ready when he got home. The Sentinel, he had quickly discovered, was a serious junk food junkie, but Blair was sure he had the fixings for decent stir-fry.
When Ellison entered the loft at 6:20, he was greeted with a flurry of sensory input that, strangely soothed rather than distressed him. Sandburg was busy cooking and jamming to some very loud grunge music. With his back to the door, he was oblivious to Jim's entrance. With a grin, Jim casually walked up behind the student and dropped a hand on his shoulder, causing him to nearly drop the pan of steamed rice that he was just taking off the stove.
Blair whirled around in surprise. Jim was disturbed to see the look of terror on his face right before the student realized it was the Sentinel, and his look of fear was replaced with relief.
"Sorry about that, Chief," he said loudly to be heard over the music.
Blair smiled. "Hey, Jim! Be right with you!" He set the pan down and rushed to the stereo to turn it off. "Sorry about the noise, man. I was gonna turn it off before you got home, but I guess the time got away from me." He grinned sheepishly.
Jim grinned back. "That's alright, Chief. I wasn't born old, you know. I had my days of loud, senseless music."
"Hey, man. It's not senseless. Some if it is real soul-searching stuff, if you pay attention to the lyrics."
"Yeah, that's just what I used to tell my dad."
Barely pausing to take a breath, Sandburg chatted while he set the table, but Jim was not fooled by the forced cheerfulness. It looked more like Blair was running on nervous tension. Jim decided to let it go. For now.
The food was finished, so Jim helped Blair set the table. As they sat down to eat, Jim asked, "What did you find out about your job, Chief?"
Blair's face fell a little. "The guy who I was supposed to replace decided to stay in town after all." He chewed quietly for a moment, thinking.
Jim spoke, pulling him from his thoughts. "Can you type, Chief?"
"Huh?"
"Can you type? On a keyboard?"
"Of course I can type, Jim. I spend half my life on my laptop."
"Well, there's a part-time secretarial position open in the Major Crime Department. Simon's secretary has requested to be cut to part time. Wants to spend more time with her family or something. Simon needs someone to fill in."
"Simon? You mean Captain Banks?!"
Jim laughed at Blair's expression of horror. "Come on, Blair. Simon's not so bad."
"Maybe not to you, but I definitely got negative vibes from him today!"
"He tends to be suspicious. It's one reason he's a good cop."
"He doesn't like me. He's not gonna want me working for him."
"He doesn't know you to like you. But if you're qualified, he'll hire you, regardless. Are you qualified?"
Blair shrugged. "Probably. I worked for Eli for the past couple of years. Filing and stuff. It would have to fit into my class schedule."
"We can go talk to him tomorrow."
"No, Jim. I'll go talk to him. I don't want him thinking I've gotta have you to baby-sit me."
"Baby-sit?"
Blair grinned up at him. "Yeah, baby-sit. I'll bet you never offered to go to a job interview with anyone else."
"Well, you're not like anyone else, Sandburg. Maybe you do need a baby-sitter."
"Hey, man," he said indignantly. "It's not my fault weird things happen to me. I just got caught up in the Sentinel zone!" Then he laughed out loud. "Get it? Sentinel zone? Get it? Zone?" He started laughing like a loon at his joke. "Hey!" His laughter was cut off when Jim threw a small glob of fried rice at him, laughing in return when it got stuck in the student's long hair.
"Seriously though, Jim," Blair said when they got themselves back under control. This could be a real good thing. You and I would be together more. I'm kinda nervous about you being in the field. A zone-out could be dangerous -- fatal even. We'll definitely hafta do some tests."
"Tests?" Ellison's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Well, yeah. To determine the range of your senses. Also to train them. Make then more reliable. The more you know about your senses and the more control you have, the less chance of a zone-out or a spike. If we're together, I can watch your back."
"And I can help keep your barriers up."
"There's that, too," Blair said, nonchalantly pushing his food around on his plate.
Jim moved his hand toward Blair and lightly touched the top of his hand, letting the bond drift between them. "Would you do it again, Chief, if you knew about this? About the barriers?"
Blair let his hand relax under Jim's touch, noticing with fascination that the more receptive he was, the stronger the connection was. Blair closed his eyes, feeling the bond move through his hand like a living thing, winding through his tendons and muscles, moving up toward his wrist.
I could get addicted to this.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Blair's head jerked up as he pulled his hand back. "What?"
"The bond. It's almost intoxicating."
Blair grinned. "Yeah, it is. Better than beer."
Jim pinned him with an intimidating glare. "Of course, you're speaking hypothetically, you being only nineteen."
Blair rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Jim. I've been at Rainier so long everyone has forgotten my age. Beer is as easy to get as soda."
Jim leaned closer but Blair didn't seem to notice. "Of course, you're not going to drink anymore now that you're bonded to and living with a cop?" He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "I'd hate to haul your butt in for underage drinking, Chief."
"Yeah, right. Like I hadn't figured that out yet," Blair said sarcastically. Then he shrugged. "Besides, I haven't had a drink since Alex Barnes grabbed me. Didn't know how it might affect me with the empathy and all."
"Seems like everything comes down to that, doesn't it, Blair?"
"Yeah. Seems like it. Therefore, in answer to your earlier question--"
Ellison raised his eyebrows. Blair had been so spaced out, he thought the student hadn't heard the question.
"-I think I would do it again. Because it means that I won't have to deal with the empathy by myself. The bond was by choice, but the empathy was not. And yeah, it sort of sucks to think that we may not be able to be separated ever, which will surely make marriage interesting, but what really sucks is the strong possibility that I would eventually lose my mind without you." Suddenly out of words, Blair looked at the Sentinel breathlessly, wide-eyed and visibly trying to calm himself down.
Jim softly gripped his shoulder and smiled. "That's what I thought. I just wanted to make sure."
THE END (oh, sure)