While completing Duty, Honor, Country, the idea for this story popped up in my head and wouldn't go away. Cindy Combs told me that she calls these 'plot bunnies' and what started going through my head as I was trying to complete Duty was the Elmer Fudd phrase, "Kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit."

The normal, standard, repetitive disclaimers go here. No matter how much I want them, the guys belong to Pet Fly, Bilson and DeMeo, and whoever else has the legal rights. This and all my other stories are written for my pleasure and the enjoyment of others to read.

MEGA thanks goes to my friend, Cindy Combs, for taking the time away from her work to beta the story for me. She found and helped me repair the glaring problems that I always seem to miss and the minor grammatical errors that I don't think I'll ever stop making.

Rated PG for some words and a little violence. Archiving is allowed and encouraged.

THE PRIZE

Shallan

Denver, Colorado

A volley of gunfire split the air, making several of the mourners standing in the Fort Logan National Cemetery jump. While the noisy event had been expected, the ferocity of the sound cut sharply through the solemn occasion. After the third volley had been fired, a lone trumpeter stepped forward. The mournful notes of Taps soon echoed throughout the area. It was the appropriate closing for a military funeral.

Jim Ellison, former Army Ranger, now a detective in the Cascade, Washington Police Department and Sentinel of that city, stood ramrod straight during the proceedings. No emotion showed on his face, his eyes staring beyond the people on the other side of the coffin. He stood as the lone civilian, clothed in black, amongst the sea of green and blue clad military members. They were all there to pay their respect and say a final farewell to Major James Alexander McLin, fellow soldier and friend.

After the trumpeter finished, the military pallbearers moved forward and began the solemn ceremony of removing the U.S. Flag from the casket. To close the service, it would be presented to a member of the family by the officer in charge. Ellison easily listened with his enhanced hearing to the precision steps of the six Special Forces sergeants as the moved forward to the casket. The gloved hands were whisper quiet, grasping the flag at the appropriate areas and lifting it from the coffin. The side-step movements sounded in almost perfect unison to the Sentinel as the soldiers shifted to the front and began the process of folding the flag into the traditional, tri-corn shape.

Jim watched the movements, knowing them by heart from the time he had been in charge of a similar ceremony. It had been at the burial of his men from the Peru mission. As the commanding officer and remaining survivor of the team, it had been his right to preside over the burials. It had not been easy then and the ceremony here brought back, in vivid detail, feelings he had tried to bury: pain, regret and sorrow.

The flag folded tightly, the senior enlisted man turned sharply and took the necessary steps to the officer standing back from the group. First presenting a salute in slow motion, the officer accepted the flag, folded it up to lie against his chest and waited until the sergeant gave him a return salute with the same slow movement. Then the officer executed a left facing movement and paced slow, measured steps towards a man sitting in a wheelchair. Leaning forward, the officer respectfully presented the flag. Ellison heard him say the same words he had said seven times before: "Thank you from a grateful nation." Hearing them again, he remembered how he had felt presenting each flag to a family member. The man in the wheelchair clutched the flag tightly to his chest, tears fell unashamedly down his face.

The ceremony finally over, the civilians and military members began to disburse. Becoming aware of his surroundings, Jim realized that he was standing alone near the coffin. Where is he? Looking around the area he found the object of his concern.

Blair Sandburg, anthropology student, police observer and Shaman to his Sentinel, stood by himself off at the edge of the mourners. He was dressed conservatively, his long, curly hair pulled back off his face, watching the ritual being performed. Thoughts of a side study concerning the cultural ceremonies of the military society had flitted through his mind as he maintained a respectful distance from the proceedings.

Having known McLin for only a short time, he had had misgivings about even going to the funeral, much less standing beside his partner up near the casket. Jim would not understand the reasons for his actions at this time, but Blair had felt his partner's need for solitude even if he hadn't voiced it aloud. If the subject were ever brought up, which he doubted it would, then they would discuss it. Standing with his hands folded in front of him, Blair waited until Jim had walked up. Then he stepped to the side and walked along side the taller man towards their rental car.

The two men had arrived in Denver two weeks earlier, coming as soon as they had received McLin's phone call asking them to spend time with him during his last days. As he had promised at the hospital in Cascade, McLin checked himself into the military hospital at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs the day after he returned to Colorado. The military doctors confirmed what his civilian doctor had found and started a radical treatment against the disease that was attacking the man's body. Unfortunately, nothing could be done to stop the destruction. Even if McLin had started the treatment when he had first been diagnosed, the disease was terminal. He was told that his remaining time could be anything from two weeks to two months. The doctors released him, at his request, to spend his remaining days where he wanted: in his own home in Conifer, Colorado.

When Jim and Blair had arrived at Denver International Airport, they were met by the man in the wheelchair. It turned out that he was McLin's brother, Joseph. A former sergeant in the Air Force, Joe McLin had been condemned to his metal seat during his second tour in Vietnam in 1970 after taking shrapnel during a mortar attack. While recuperating in a VA hospital, he had tried to convince his younger brother that the military was not the best path to take in his life. Jimmy McLin thought different but chose the Army as his vocation in life.

The two McLin's had never been close to each other because of that choice, only seeing each other at the funeral of their mother three years ago and then again at their father's 6 months later. Until the younger brother returned from a recent trip to Cascade, WA, nearly two months ago, any conversations had been rare. Since the return, they had spent almost every day together. Mac had asked his brother to pick up the visitors from Cascade.

Ellison had been shocked the first time he saw his former Army buddy upon arrival. The robust, stalwart man that had left Cascade had disappeared, leaving a frail version in its place. Surprisingly, McLin wasn't in the type of pain he had expected or was warned would occur with the disease. Maybe it was because of all the military training he had gone through in his earlier years had taught him to ignore pain. But then, maybe it was just a blessing that didn't need to be explored.

To Sandburg, the change in the military man hadn't been that much of a surprise. Because of the abilities he was developing, he had known about the illness McLin had carried long before his partner. Blair had seen a dark shadow in Mac's eyes the first time they had literally bumped into each other at the precinct. During the week the military man had spent in Cascade, the shadow had grown to become a halo that only Blair could see and in which he felt was something deadly to the man. His suspicions had been confirmed after an automobile accident that both men had been involved.

In saving Sandburg's life during a terrorist takeover of a building at Rainier University, McLin had confessed his condition to Ellison, who had eventually convinced the man to not just give up. But it was to no avail. When the doctors at Fort Carson released him, McLin went back to his home and made the call to Ellison. The detective and his observer partner arrived three days later. The time spent with the ailing McLin helped completely seal the friendship the three had begun in Cascade.

Ten Days Earlier

"So J.J. there thinks that he can make this jeep accelerate over its max speed of 45 without monkeying around with the engine. They restrict the speed on those things for a reason, Ellison." McLin pointed an accusing finger at the abashed man sitting in the deck chair across from him.

"Jim 'by-the-book' Ellison deliberately violated regulations?" Blair asked incredulously and then laughed at the discomfort his partner was exhibiting.

Draining the last of the beer from the bottle he was holding, Jim stood up and started walking toward the door of the house. "Keep it up, Mac. I don't think you want me to start telling about how you ended up with that tattoo on your fanny. Anyone for a refill?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked into the house.

Ellison and Sandburg had arrived on a late flight from Washington three days earlier. While McLin hadn't been able to meet them at the airport, he was waiting for them by the time they finally arrived at his house with a good meal, cold beer and comfortable beds. The three men had spent the days since then together, McLin and Ellison talking about the 'old days' in the Army and Blair laughing and absorbing the information about his partner's past.

This night, after enjoying a dinner of steaks grilled by Ellison and a special salad created by Sandburg, the three were relaxing on the deck behind the house. McLin had noticed Sandburg holding his ribs a few times during the evening, mainly when he was laughing hard enough to cause tears.

"Your ribs bother you, Blair?" McLin lowered his voice, thinking he could ask a question that Ellison might not hear.

Blair just waved a disconcerting had at the man. "Don't try to whisper, Mac. Jim could hear you even if he was on the road in front of the house. Thanks for asking, but my ribs are healing just fine. They're still a little tender and busting a gut over the stories you two have been telling hasn't helped."

Looking towards his house for a moment, McLin shifted his chair closer to Blair's. "Tell me, kid. How did J.J. develop his, uh, super senses? I watched him in action back at the university and he was really something."

"He's actually had them all his life, Mac. After witnessing a murder using his senses when he was a boy, Jim's dad sort of forced him to suppress them." While Blair didn't hold against the elder Ellison what he had done to his son, he was bothered by how people treated others who were different then. Even in today's supposedly modern society, to be different was to be feared and keeping his partner's abilities a secret had pretty much become Blair's full-time job. "They stayed away until he was in Peru. The forced isolation with the Chopec caused them to reemerge until he was rescued."

"And he came back with them in full force?"

"No, actually he didn't. They disappeared again after he was rescued. Jim's never told me what happened after he was picked up to repress them again. Said it was classified."

"And it still is, Chief." Both men turned around to see Jim standing in the doorway holding three beer bottles. He walked over, handed a bottle to each of the other two and then sat back in his chair. "I'm required to maintain that classification for a few more years. When the requirement is lifted, I'll make sure that you get to record the whole thing but it'll probably be after you've graduated."

"I guess it's just some fluke that you're the one 'blessed' with these abilities. What did I say?" Mac thought his remark was harmless enough until he saw Ellison grimace and Sandburg's expression take on a haunted look. "Hey, I don't mean to bring up bad memories."

Blair looked over at his partner before he replied. "No, it's all right. Um I've got lots of data on people who have one or two heightened senses and only a couple have exhibited three. Jim was first person I ever found who had all five." He fell silent, focusing on his beer bottle, which allowed Jim to take over the explanation.

"There's another, but she, well, wasn't willing to work on developing her ability. Wanted the fast route and ended up going insane. So far, we haven't found any others." Ellison emphasized the word just enough to make Sandburg look back up at him to see the smile of trust and confidence directed at him.

Mac decided to change the subject. "So how is it that you are together? You have to admit that the difference between you two is pretty obvious. What's your field of study?" he asked Sandburg.

"Anthropology. About as far from police work as you could possibly get."

"I'll say. But, despite the fact that he knows how to help you J.J., what caused a hard-assed cop to accept a college student as a partner?"

"Sandburg kept me from being run over by a garbage truck," Jim answered. He smiled when Mac's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"After you jacked me up against the wall of my office and called me a, what was it again?" Blair directed the question to his friend, who had the good graces to blush. He mumbled something that the other two weren't able to hear.

"What's that J.J.? You're gonna have to speak up. We don't have those special ears," McLin wheedled his Army buddy.

"I said I called him a neo-hippie, witch doctor punk. I told you that at the station, Mac. But I only said that after he called me some type of caveman."

Blair leaned forward with a finger raised. "I said that you were a throw back to a pre- civilized man."

"I rest my case, your honor." Ellison smirked and took a swig from his bottle.

With a sigh, Blair sat back and took over the description of their meeting. "Jim had left my office in a huff and was walking across the road to his truck. Yes it was a huff, man. You were not a happy camper when you walked out," Blair quickly said to forestall the interruption he saw coming. "In my studies I've learned that there were times when a sentinel, that's what men like Jim are known as, will sometimes have an episode I call a zoneout if they concentrate too hard on any one of their senses. It's like going catatonic. Jim had one when he used his sight to watch a Frisbee being tossed. Unfortunately, it was right in the middle of the street and in the path of a garbage truck."

"He tackled me and the truck rolled over us. After that, I decided that he knew something about what was happening to me and we talked. Then he helped me use my senses to solve this case I was working and we became partners. The rest is history, or at least part of his thesis I'm sure." Jim gave his smaller friend a comfortable smile and lifted his bottle in a toast. Blair returned the gesture.

"So that's what Banks was talking about." McLin sat back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. At the confused expression on Sandburg's face, he explained. "When J.J. froze on the stairs, Banks was shaking him and said something like 'what does Blair say?' I thought J.J. was having a seizure or something."

"You had a zoneout? Why didn't you tell me, Jim?" The anger was evident in Blair's voice.

"Don't blame him, kid." McLin jumped in to head off any argument. "It was right after we heard the gun shots. He looked like he was listening for you and I think it caught him off guard. He seems to have this real protective instinct for you, from what I saw that day. I have no doubt that it runs both ways."

"Yeah, well that sort of developed over the years that we've worked together. Sandburg seems to have this incredible ability to get in trouble at the oddest times and there's usually a woman involved." Jim was the first to speak, trying to move the conversation in a different direction.

Catching on to what his friend was doing, Blair objected indignantly, "Come on, Jim. That's not fair. And I'm not the only one who seems to have problems with femme fatales. So don't even think of going there."

The detective and his observer looked at each other for several long seconds, each trying to convey to the other their feelings without using words that would be inadequate. They were friends, partners, Sentinel and Shaman. Nothing could be said about the later that many would understand and they didn't want to try to explain it to McLin.

McLin's laughter bubbled forth as he watched the interaction between the two men. He was really glad that he had asked them to come. No one should ever have to die alone.

Present Day

Reaching the rental car, both men climbed in and began the long drive back up to Conifer and the house owned by McLin. The major had made the provision before passing away that his friends could spend a week at the house after his death. Then the property and everything in it, excluding some personal bequeaths to the two and his brother, were to be sold at auction with all proceeds given to the brother.

During the drive, Blair loosened his tie and cast furtive glances at his partner. While he could see that Jim was aware of everything on the road, Blair could also see that the man's thoughts were miles, if not years, away. Jim had not completely shoved the younger man away from him emotionally, but Blair could tell that he needed to stay back and allow his friend the time to handle the death of McLin in his own way.

"I'm all right, Chief," Jim said, his eyes remaining on the road in front of him.

Blair just nodded and replied with a quiet, "I know."

Ellison sighed quietly at his partner's response. He knew what Sandburg was doing. Having learned how to do so after being injured during the recent university incident, Blair started keeping a tight rein on his own feelings and emotions. He kept them from flowing through the bond that connected him to his Sentinel, thinking that his partner didn't need to be bothered with his sorrows and insecurities.

In a way, Jim was appreciative of the concern the younger man was showing him. McLin had been a special person in his life and the man's death had been painful. But Blair's action also irritated him. They had the bond between them for a special reason. Jim was a Sentinel, a man with special, enhanced senses that he used with his police work. Blair was his Shaman, chosen by his former mentor Incacha to guide him with using and controlling his senses. But the young man was also there to watch his back, protect him from going into zoneouts. Together, they had become an unbelievably effective team in fighting crime in Cascade.

Blair had also become a close friend, a brother in every way except blood. By closing down the flow of information between the two, Jim could only feel that Blair was there beside him but not know how he was feeling or if he has hurt in any manner. It was as if there was just a presence in the seat beside him and that was all. The two were going to have to have a long conversation. First, to clear the air between them about what was going on now. Second, and more important, to stop Blair from doing what he was doing. Yes, Jim was hurting over the loss but the continuous feed of emotion from his mostly hyperactive partner was what kept him anchored to reality. Without it, he was feeling that loss more.

"Do you want to grab something before we get back, go out to eat or just stay in?" Jim asked, breaking the oppressive silence.

Blair shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever's easiest. I'm really not hungry. Just want to get out of this monkey suit and, uh--" He fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket.

"Yeah, I know." Ellison looked over at his friend and then back to the road. The traffic was fairly heavy for a Saturday and required his attention, but he knew it was necessary to talk about what they had just been through. "I Funerals have never been easy for me and military ones are the worse. One is too many to attend." The last words were spoken softly and with regret.

"Jim, you don't have to explain-- " Blair started but stopped when Jim held up a hand.

"It's all right, Chief. While you never get used to them, you learn to accept them and appreciate life all the more. As long as I've spent in the Army, I'm surprised to have only been to seven funerals before this one." Ellison reached over and gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze.

"Are they all like that?"

"Pretty much. However, there are some differences between the services. For Air Force pilots who die in combat or in a special status, they authorize a flyover by military aircraft in the missing man formation. An impressive sight if you're into that sort of stuff."

The final statement had the intended effect. Blair chuckled at the tone his partner used. James Ellison was Army through and through. There were times that he showed his bias towards those services that did not wear the green uniform.

The rest of the trip to McLin's house was more comfortable, with discussions and comments over the change in the terrain when they left the city limits and the road began to climb towards Conifer. Upon arrival at the secluded house, both men were ready for a quiet night.

Once inside, Blair walked toward the room he had been using since they had arrived and began changing into a more comfortable outfit of blue jeans, a sweatshirt and his hiking boots. He had learned quickly that, although it was mid-May by the calendar, the temperature dropped quickly once the sun went behind the mountains. He was wanting, no needing, to do some processing and there was a perfect area he had found a short distance from the house. The warm clothes would come in handy.

Jim also went to his room to change, stopping by the kitchen for a bottle of water first. Pausing to take a quick swallow, he listened towards Blair's room. He could hear the other changing, but noticed how quiet he was in doing so. Blair normally had a habit of talking to himself and his silence was another indication that the two of them needed to have a long talk. With a sigh, Jim walked into his room and started to undo his tie. He was unbuttoning his shirt when he heard Blair walk up and tap on the door.

"Jim? Hey, don't worry about fixing anything for me. I'm going to take a short walk along that trail behind the house and go relax in the clearing back there. I'll be back in a couple of hours and get something then, okay?"

"Sure, Chief. Just be careful. Mac had said that there've been sightings of a mountain lion hanging around the area. You're just big enough to be an appetizer." Ellison opened his door with an easy smile on his face.

"Ha, ha. The cat would probably end up with a bad case of indigestion," Blair joked back and then raised up the backpack he was carrying. "Don't worry, man. You'll probably be able to hear me if you listen in the right direction. I'm taking my walkman and I've got some water and granola bars in my pack here. See ya in a bit."

"You better believe I'll be listening," Jim muttered after hearing the back door shut. "Closer than you think, too." He moved back into his room to continue changing clothes.

Blair took a deep breath and then released it comfortably as he stood on the back deck of the house. This is such a beautiful place, Mac. I'm sorry you weren't able to enjoy it more, he thought as he looked up towards the mountains ranging to the west. The snow-capped peak of Mt. Evans towered over all the others. Pushing away the sadness that the thought brought, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, trotted down the steps and strode briskly through the backyard towards the tree that lined the edge of the property.

He was glad that he had put on the warm sweatshirt. Upon entering the trees, the temperature had become noticeably cooler and Blair picked up his pace to reach the place he was heading as quickly as possible. He fully intended to be back at the house before the sun dropped completely behind the mountains and the temperature with it.

After walking for over ten minutes along the well-trod path through the dense pine trees, Blair came to a large clearing that was still in full sunlight. Off to one side sat several stones of different sizes, one with a large enough flat surface area for an average-sized person to sit comfortably.

Climbing easily onto the stone and positioning himself into his standard, lotus position for meditating, Blair first pulled his wolf medallion out from his shirt and rested it comfortably on his chest. Giving it a soft pat, he then pulled his walkman out of his backpack. Checking the tape it carried, he positioned the headphones and switched the mechanism on. The steady rhythm of drums filled Blair's consciousness and helped him focus his troubled mind as he brought his breathing into a controlled pattern. Unknown to the silent figure on the rock, he was being watched by an equally silent figure a ways up the mountain.

A chilly breeze blowing across his face made Blair aware of his surroundings once more. The sun had moved far enough to the west to cause the shadow from the trees at the edge of the clearing to cover his rock. The drop in the temperature was definitely noticeable, indicating that it was time to get back to the house.

Unfolding his legs and gently stretching his muscles, Blair removed a bottle of water from his backpack and repacked his walkman. Taking a drink from the bottle, he looked around the area to find the owner of the eyes he thought he had felt watching him. Unconsciously, he tucked his medallion back into this shirt, hiding it from that unknown watcher.

Not seeing anyone in the vicinity, Blair quickly repacked the water bottle and climbed off the rock. Then, shouldering the bag, he started walking at a fast pace out of the clearing and back down the trail in the direction of the house. He hadn't traveled more than about a hundred feet when he heard the sound of someone coming down the trail behind him. Turning quickly, he saw his partner trotting in his direction.

Jogging up to the smaller man, Jim stopped and pulled loose the towel he had tucked around the neck of his sweatshirt to wipe his reddened and wet face. He was slightly flushed from running in the high altitude and he wasn't breathing as easily as he would have in Cascade.

"Hey, Chief. Want some company back to the house?" Ellison's expression was relaxed. His eyes were asking more than what he had said but he kept silent.

"Sure, man. You can make sure that I don't get lost, too. That lousy sense of direction I have " Blair said with a smile and was rewarded by his friend's laughter. "How far did you run? Actually, how can you run this high up? Just walking normal gets me out of breath."

"A couple of miles, at least. I was on the road when I saw a trail leading off up this way. So, I thought I would check it out to see where it went and here I am. We are higher up than Cascade but it's not that bad. Come on. It's getting chilly and I don't want to cool off too quickly." Placing a comfortable hand onto Blair's shoulder, the two started walking down the trail. "Did you see any sign of the mountain lion?"

"Nah, but I had the feeling I was being watched so it might have been around here somewhere. I didn't feel in danger, though. Did you see it? Any type of sign at all?"

He knew what Blair was asking. Knowing that his friend was in the area, Jim had kept his eyes, ears and nose on alert for anything dangerous. While he also had a feeling there was someone, something in the area, nothing had registered on his senses. With a shake of his head, Jim gave the shoulder under his hand a squeeze and then urged Blair into a faster walk.

No additional urging was needed. The chill of the approaching night was slicing through Blair's clothing. He wanted nothing more than to curl up by the large stone fireplace in the den of the loaned house with a hot cup of tea. The satellite dish attached to the porch would allow the two of them to watch a Jags game on one of the five different sports channels it carried. Jim had mentioned more than once about how the luxury item might be something to think about at their place.

Shifting his backpack to a more comfortable position, Blair picked up his pace to match the larger man at his side. The walk back was in silence, but amiable.

Ellison rolled over and looked at the clock beside the bed. It read 6:10 a.m. Wondering what had caused him to awaken, he opened his hearing to the house. It was quiet. There was no radio or television playing, no sounds from the kitchen or bathroom, and no sounds of Sandburg in his room. Sitting up suddenly, Jim realized that the latter was the problem. Blair was not in his room or anywhere in the house. Extending his hearing, he found the familiar heartbeat out on the front porch. Rolling out of the bed, Jim grabbed for his clothes.

Blair, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee to keep them warm in the chilly air, looked over his shoulder and gave Jim a welcoming smile as he walked out the door with a mug in his hand. "Mornin," he said quietly and motioned his head towards the field across the road.

Moving slowly to sit down beside his partner, Jim looked in the direction of the gesture and saw several elk grazing. Looking closer, he could see that one was a buck and the rest were does and their young.

"You know, I could almost get used to this," Blair spoke quietly, watching the casual way the animals moved and ate. "No classes, no putting up with cranky professors or indifferent students, no struggling to get acceptance for your theories." The last was said in a wistful tone.

"It would be nice for a while, but I know you too well, Chief. You'd go stir crazy after while and be attacking the different libraries around here to see if they held any hidden treasures." Jim chuckled when Blair ducked his head with a bashful smile.

The two sat in silence for a while, watching the animals go about their business when Blair spoke up quietly, "How are you doing, Jim?"

Ellison suppressed a heavy sigh. "I just wish there had been something, anything Mac could have done or gone through to get the cancer into remission. With all that science has accomplished today "

"Yeah, I know. I thought that I might even be able to help him with you know. But nothing happened."

Ellison looked at his partner sharply, irritation written all over his face. "Sandburg, I thought we agreed that you weren't going to try that again unless-- "

"I had to try, Jim," Blair interrupted quickly. "If you could've seen that that shadow hanging over him. It almost made me sick each time I saw it. I thought it wouldn't hurt if I just tried."

"When?"

"The day Joe took you into town to get the rental. Mac was taking a nap on the couch and I tried for about ten minutes. There wasn't even a hint of energy. He never knew what I was doing."

"God, Chief! What if it had worked and you 'forgot' to stop like the last time?" Ellison's voice raised in anger. How could he try that after he promised? Especially without someone to monitor him! He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to voice his feelings and then finally brought his anger under control. "The last time you did it you were so weak that you passed out on me. It was pure luck you hadn't been on the stairs when that happened."

Blair placed his hand on the other's arm, his eyes pleading. "I know, Jim. But Mac had become my friend, too. I figured there was so little time that I needed to try something. I have this title of Shaman and in some cultures it means healer. So I tried to heal, or at least help." Dropping his hand from his friend's arm, he fiddled with his coffee cup. "Anyway, nothing happened when I touched him. Guess I can only do it for you."

"As it should be." Jim's reply was too soft for Blair to hear clearly, but he could almost feel the smugness emanating from the older man.

Not ready to calm down just yet, Ellison was silent. He stared out towards the grazing elk while thoughts of what could have happened to his friend if his power had work slammed through his brain. Knowing better than to try and make any further explanation, Blair also remained quiet and watched the serene scene in front of them.

After more than 15 minutes of silence passed, Jim reached over with a sigh and gave Blair's shoulder a squeeze. "While I don't agree with your methods, I can understand why, Chief. Thanks." Knowing that a reply was not needed, Blair nodded and took a sip of his cooling coffee.

"Think you might be interested in a little exercise?"

"If you want me to go jogging with you, I'll pass. I really don't have any desire to puke my guts out today."

"Would I ask you to do that?" Jim tried to look innocent with the reply but a smile sneaked onto his lips. "Actually, I found some camping equipment stored in the shed out back and was thinking we could do a couple of days of exploring before heading back. It has been a while since we communed with nature and the best part is that we wouldn't have to drive any great distance to reach an access area. It's all packed up and ready to go."

Blair could hear the hopeful tone in Jim's voice. It had been a while since they'd been able to go camping for relaxation. He couldn't count the time in Peru last year. Looking at his watch he asked, "Be ready by 8:00?" The smile that appeared on Jim's face gave Blair a flash of pleasure. He hadn't done very many things in the recent past to make his partner happy or his life any easier. He was still trying to make up for the Rainier incident a couple of months ago. Returning the smile, he accepted the hand that reached out to help him stand and the two walked back into the house.

The first day of hiking was mainly to get away from civilization. Maps that had been with the equipment indicated that Conifer was at the edge of the Pike National Forest. The decision was made to take the truck and head for Harris Park a few miles to the southeast, since the road ended there. The small town was closer to the edge of the forest and one of the hiking trails. They could also leave information as to their plans with the local sheriff's office.

Neither man spoke much when they started out, mainly concentrating on getting as many miles into the forest as possible before making the first camp. The sky was empty of any clouds and looked as though it would stay that way for the duration of the outing.

By the time they were able to find a good place to stop, it was almost dark. Ellison volunteered to find firewood, since he would have the advantage with his eyesight. That left Sandburg the job of setting up the tent, which turned out to be easier than he expected. McLin had all of the latest in camping equipment a person could hope for. It only took 10 minutes to set up the tent and another fifteen to get their equipment situated. He was sitting against a tree munching on some trail mix when his partner reappeared with an armload of wood.

"It's awfully dry around here, Chief. We'd better make sure we keep a close watch on the fire tonight. Any small stones lying nearby that we can put around the pit?"

"This is the Rocky Mountains, man. There's nothing but stones around here. Had a heck of a time trying to find a clear spot just to pitch the tent. Let me give you a hand." Grabbing the small digging tool they had packed, Blair started to make a pit in the open area in front of their tent. In a short time, the hole was dug, stones were laid and Jim began positioning the kindling for the fire.

Paying just enough attention to what he was doing, Jim felt along their bond to Blair when he noticed how quiet the younger man was acting. "How long are you going to keep me blocked?" he asked quietly. He saw Blair jump like he had been poked.

"I don't know what you mean." Blair pulled up his backpack and started to look through it with earnest.

After getting the kindling started and adding the necessary larger pieces of wood, Ellison sat back on his heels and looked over at Sandburg. After a lengthy silence, the later finally looked up. There was a calm patience in the face staring at him, telling Blair without words that they were going to talk this evening one way or another. Putting his pack back down, he pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. He kept his gaze locked onto the growing fire.

"I could have gotten you killed at the U, Jim. By not having control, I-I overwhelmed you."

"I wouldn't have exactly called it being overwhelmed, Sandburg."

"Okay flooded, deluged, inundated, call it whatever you want. I allowed my emotions to stop you cold and that could have gotten both you and Mac killed. That scared the hell out of me, man. What if " Blair's voice caught in his throat. "What if that happens while we're on stakeout or you're facing down some bad guy with a gun, or doing one of the fifty million other dangerous things you do in your job?"

"It was just a fluke, Chief. I know you didn't do it on purpose, we I just wasn't prepared when it happened. Now that I know about it, it won't happen again. It's like everything else we've gone through with this sentinel stuff. We're learning as we go." Jim added more wood to the fire and then sat back to give his full attention to his partner.

"The learning process shouldn't end up with someone dying. Being a grad student, who'd know better than I?"

Knowing that using the logical approach wasn't going to work this time, Ellison decided to use the only tactic that had any chance with Sandburg, speaking straight from the heart. "The first time that I realized I could 'feel' you, know what you were experiencing, I was overjoyed that we had some type of connection between us. You don't know how relieved I was when I could tell that you were still alive. Especially when thoughts of Alex doing something to kill you again were running through my head."

"But " Blair started to say but stopped when Jim held up his hand.

"Let me finish. Last year, after Charlie Walker drugged me, having our connection saved my sanity. My senses were overloaded and I was lost in my own mind. Feeling you come through the confusion was like finding a lifeline that I was not going to lose. But there's nothing there now, Chief. You're just a presence beside me and I I miss having you there. I need to have all of you with me, including your emotions."

Blair was stunned. Getting Jim Ellison to talk about his feelings was close to impossible. It had been only after traumatic situations that they had had any personal talks, and Blair had grown to accept that. But now, here was Mr. Tough-as-Nails bearing his soul and neither of them were suffering from some major injury.

"I don't know what to say, Jim," Blair mumbled.

"Just say that you'll quit shutting me out."

"But, I don't want to hamper you with your work. I mean, what if we get into another situation like at the U., though I'm not going to be crazy enough to back someone up like I did after that talking to you, Simon, Joel and Henri gave me. But, I mean "

"Chief."

" you know how things just seem to happen all the time, and especially to me. Look at the elevator in the Wilkerson Tower, or with L-L-Lash, and "

"Sandburg."

" then there was when we were on the Northstar oil rig with me getting clobbered by a radio tower. And how about getting shot trying to rescue Simon from Dawson Quinn? I'm just like some walking accident waiting to happen. Sometimes I want to ask you to see if there's this sign taped to my back that reads "

"Blair!" Ellison's raised voice finally broke through the flood of words that gushed from the smaller man. Startled, Blair stopped talking.

"We can work on your control with your emotions flowing through our bond the same way that you've helped me control my senses. We'll do it together, okay? Now, why don't you quit being such a pain in the ass and open back up." Jim smiled to take the bite out of his words.

Smiling back hesitantly, Blair stared into the fire and felt for the 'valve' he had mentally placed on the connection with his Sentinel. Carefully, he 'opened' it in slow degrees until it felt like a small but steady stream. Looking back up at his friend, he saw Jim relaxing.

"How's that?" Blair asked.

"Much better, Chief. Thank you. Now, are we okay with this? 'Cause I'm hungry and pretty soon the pains from my empty stomach will start overwhelming you if we don't get going with supper." Blair just gave his friend a sheepish smile and moved closer to help with the meal preparation.

After a few minutes of silence, Ellison spoke up. "I've been wanting to ask you about what you said you could see hanging around Mac. What did you call it? A shadow that showed you he had an illness? Do you see anything like that with others?"

"I you know its so strange but that's been the only time I've seen that. At least so far. It's sorta like I was supposed to see it since Mac was your friend and needed to help you at the U. And then when he died " Blair's voice trailed off with a doubtful sound.

"What's the matter, Chief?"

Blair looked up into concerned, blue eyes. He had a vivid memory of Mac's last day and hadn't been able to tell Jim about it. He thought back to that day and hesitantly related what he remembered.

Three Days Earlier

"I-I really don't think it's right for me to be in there, Jim. I mean, you're his friend and you've known each other for years and Joe's his brother. But I'm just someone he met a few weeks ago. It's not my place--" Blair argued as he tried to edge around his partner. He was stopped when Jim grabbed his shoulder and held up a finger.

"He asked for you, Sandburg. That gives you every right and the responsibility. Do you want to disappoint him now?" When Blair didn't answer, Jim turned him back around and together they walked into McLin's room. Sandburg steeled himself when the two men approached the bed where the dying man lay.

Ellison saw his Army friend valiantly struggling to maintain a brave appearance to those around him. Mac's complexion was gray, features were sunken and his breath was shallow, sounding like it bubbled through liquid. Joe McLin sat in his wheelchair on one side of the bed, holding a frail hand.

Blair saw something entirely different. The darkness that had first warned him of the illness McLin had was no longer a halo. It now covered the man like a veil, the dull black swirling in such a way as to block out a clear view of the man's face. Blair caught his breath and hesitated slightly until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Taking a quiet, cleansing inhale of air, he forced the fear down.

McLin smiled when he saw the two men stop near his bed. "J.J. Sandburg. Thanks for comin. No, Joe please stay," he said to his brother when the man started to release the hand he held. "I can't think of a better group of people to see for the last time."

"Mac " Jim started to protest but McLin stopped him

"Don't argue with a dying man, J.J. Can you teach him anything about acceptance, kid?" he addressed the question to the silent Sandburg.

"He has a hard enough time with tolerance, Mac. Frankly, I'm sorta glad he doesn't accept things as is. Gives a whole new meaning to the idea of faith," Blair answered quietly, glancing at his partner. He owed his life to Jim's spirit of not giving up no matter what others said. A warm, indescribable feeling flowed back to him through the bond they shared. The ensuing silence was broken by Mac spasming into a phlemy cough.

"Maybe you should rest, Jimmy," McLin's brother spoke up when the other finally quieted.

"Can't, Joey," Mac gasped. "So little time and I've got some things to say." He strengthened his hold on the other's hand. "First, I've always loved you, brother. No matter how much we fought and all the angry words aside, I'm glad you are my brother." The chair- bound man dropped his head; silent tears fell unheeded to his lap. His answer was to give a shake and squeeze back to the hand he held.

Looking up at the distraught face of Sandburg, McLin gave him a lop-sided grin. "It's okay, kid. I'm finally going to get an answer to that question I asked you in the car back in Cascade. The other side has to be something pretty great since you aren't the worse for wear. And I know you'll keep this guy on his toes and flying right, so I won't tell you to. I'm glad we've had the time to get to know each other better."

Blair opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the dark veil swirled thicker. Closing his eyes to the sight, he just nodded and stepped back to allow Jim to step closer to the bed. Unconsciously, he raised his hand to his chest. Touching the amulet through his shirt, Blair sent a silent prayer for the dying man.

"We had one hell of a life. Haven't we, J.J." Mac spoke to the tall, stone-faced man, raising his hand.

"Wouldn't change a thing. You helped me more than I could ever repay you for, Mac. Then and now. Thank you." Ellison sat down on the edge of the bed carefully. He took the offered hand and enfolded it gently into a comradely clasp.

"'Never shall I fail my comrades.' That's what Rangers do, hoss. But I always knew you were special. Knew it from the day you almost kicked my ass at OCS." McLin struggled to draw in air and went into another coughing fit.

Both the elder McLin and Ellison clasped the hands they held tightly, trying to give the dying man strength. Stepping forward again, Sandburg knelt by the bed and laid a gentle hand on the convulsing shoulder. McLin quickly quieted. Ellison looked sharply at his partner but saw that the other was only providing a comforting touch and not trying to use his 'ability' again.

"Hoo-ah," McLin said weakly and then closed his eyes.

Ellison listened in anguish as McLin inhaled one more time and then his body relaxed. There wasn't any exhale. When he heard the weak heart beat cease, tears flowed down his face.

Joe McLin leaned forward and rested his head against his brother's chest. Quiet sobbing shook the body. "Peace, brother," he whispered.

Blair felt the body beneath his hand relax and then almost gasped aloud when he looked at McLin's now peaceful face. The black veil that had sickened him since entering the room vanished from the body. It was replaced by a bright glow that flowed up towards the head and formed into an incandescent ball of light that shot up and away from the body. It vanished into the ceiling. He marveled at the sight until his attention was brought back to the room by movement from his partner.

Ellison gently laid the cooling hand he held onto the still chest and gave it a soft pat. Without a word, he stood up and left the room. He continued walking, his footsteps leading him out the back door of the house and into the nearby woods.

Understanding the needs of his friend, as well as the grieving man across from him, Blair also stood up and left the room. Following the same path as Jim, Blair stopped when he reached the back porch. Wrapping his arms across his chest, he sat down into one of the deck chairs and waited patiently for his friend to return. Blair knew he would have several hours to contemplate what he had just seen. Then he would have to decide when Jim would be ready to hear it.

Present Day

Blair noticed that Jim had been very still while listening to him relate what he had seen at the moment of Mac's death. The memory still caused him no small amount of awe to have witnessed what he could only equate as the soul leaving the body. Why had he been allowed to see it? Was this a new level of his abilities?

"Thank you, Chief," Jim said softly. Blair ducked his head, happy to have given his friend comfort with the grief from his loss.

"But will you do me a favor in the future?" Jim voiced the words with intensity but offset them with an understanding smile. Blair looked up from the fire he had been staring at while telling the tale. "If you ever see this shadow again, make sure you tell me first. It's probably a warning for me to keep better track of you and your tendencies to get into trouble."

Blair gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye, sir!"

"That's for the Navy, Chief." Jim swung his hand to smack his friend on the back of the head. Blair ducked and smiled impishly. The rest of the evening passed comfortably.

All throughout the next day, Jim could tell through their bond that his partner was more relaxed and enjoying the hike. There was one point along the trail that the calmness started to falter. They had to cross over a deep ravine using a large tree trunk that had been placed there many years ago by a forestry group. The top had been flattened and it was now a natural walkway.

There was a surge of fear and slight panic through their bond that was quickly dampened when they had approached the 'bridge.' It was a small warning to Jim of the difficulty Blair was going through. The fear of heights the smaller man experienced had been a hindrance before. But, speaking in a low, calm tone, Jim was able to get him across with only a minor delay. They decided to break early for lunch a short distance after that to allow each to take a breather.

"How're you doing there, Chief?" Ellison asked pulling a water bottle and a protein bar out of his backpack. While he could see that his friend had visibly recovered from crossing the ravine, Jim could hear that the other's heart rate was still elevated.

"You tell me, since you're obviously listening." Blair threw Jim a smile to offset the sharpness of his words. He knew that at this stage in their partnership, his friend would have to consciously tune Blair out to not be able to read him. And he wouldn't do that. "Man, why didn't they build a normal bridge over that thing? I mean, would it have been that much trouble?"

"Why bring in man-made materials when nature supplies everything you need. At least they sliced away enough of the trunk to make it a flat surface. But you've been over worse things than that. So why the reaction?"

Blair ran his hands through his hair to smooth it away from his face. A minor shake was still visible in his fingers. "I don't know. Maybe the elevation is playing havoc with my equilibrium. I just felt really unstable walking across that thing."

"Did you take your electrolytes before we started out?" Ellison had found a small box of the pills with the camping gear and remembered what high altitude could do to a person not acclimated to the area. "Altitude sickness is not something to play around with, Chief."

"Got them right here, man. I was going to down a couple before we got started again. Just have to make sure I've got something on my stomach before I take them. How much farther do we need to go?"

Ellison pulled out a map. "If we can make it over that ridge and down the other side in a couple of hours, there's supposed to be a flat area that should be fairly easy to reach. I'd like to be near some water, if possible."

"Could you see yourself living up here, Jim? I mean, it's so peaceful and beautiful without all the cars and noise."

"I've done my time of living in isolation, Chief. While it's nice to visit every now and then, I still prefer living in the city with its many conveniences. And speaking of conveniences, since there doesn't seem to be a bathroom nearby, I'll be right back. We need to be moving in about 10 minutes. Okay?" Ellison stood up and moved off into the brush.

Sandburg also stood and started walking in the opposite direction from his friend. "Yeah, sure. There are certain amenities that I wouldn't want to do completely without either," he mumbled the last words but knew his friend would hear him. Before moving completely off the trail, Blair searched the area around him. The feeling of being watched was back but, when he couldn't find the source, he shook it off.

The sun was beginning its downward movement toward the mountains when Jim stopped to pull the map from his back pocket. They were going down a switchback trail after crossing over a small ridge and he wanted to make sure how much farther they had to travel before the land would flatten out. He wouldn't have much of a problem traveling through the dark, but Blair didn't have his advantage and was showing signs that he was beginning to tire.

"It doesn't look like it's too much--" Jim started and then looked up. Peering up at the sky through the dense trees, he took a deep breath through his nose.

"What's the matter, Jim?" Blair looked at his partner with a quizzical look.

Rubbing his right ear, Ellison opened his jaw wide and tried to ease the pressure he felt building up near the eardrum. "I think we better look for a place now to stay the night, and then head back in the morning. Our luck with the weather is going to change tomorrow and the temp has been dropping all afternoon."

"You're feeling a change in the pressure? That's great, Jim! That's a classic example of sentinel behavior from Burton's studies. Are we gonna get rain or snow? How long do you think we have?" Blair's excitement bubbled out of him like a fountain.

"Smells like snow to me and I'd say by--" Jim had been concentrating intensely on his awareness of the change in the weather and didn't hear a very familiar sound until it was too late. It was the metallic click made by the hammer of a gun being cocked. Turning around quickly towards the direction of the noise, he was suddenly slammed backwards by a searing, hot flash of pain across his temple. Blinded by the sudden agony, his consciousness fled and he didn't feel the ground that rushed up to meet him.

Frozen momentarily by what he just saw, Blair watched his friend land a few feet up the trail. When the sound of the rifle shot finally reached his ears, he came back to life and raced to the fallen man.

"JIM!" he yelled and fell to his knees beside the body. His friend was lying on his side facing away. With shaking hands, Blair unsnapped the straps of Jim's backpack, eased it off his friend's back and tossed it to the side of the trail. Then he gently rolled the still man over onto his back. The first thing he saw was the blood flowing from the raw gash across Jim's left temple. Blair felt for a pulse and sagged in relief when he found the steady throb. "Oh, God! Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whisper fervently. Searching through his pockets, Blair located a handkerchief and held it to the wound. His attempt did little to stop the blood flow. It was going to take a pressure bandage to stop the bleeding.

Looking around carefully, Blair couldn't see the shooter, but that didn't mean he or she wasn't there. He knew he had to get his friend out of the open and think of someway to protect him from further danger. Standing up and moving around to get leverage, Blair grabbed Jim under the shoulders and pulled him off the trail into some trees. When he felt they were far enough into the brush, he knelt back down by Jim's side.

Pulling off his own pack, he dug through it and found a small first aid kit. Yanking it open, Blair fumbled for the items necessary to take care of the wound. The intense trembling of his hands made him labor harder at binding the injury. All the while, he spoke in a rambling fashion to his friend, "You're okay, Jim. It's just a-a minor head wound and you know how they bleed. Come on, man. You've had worse injuries and they barely phased you. What do you usually say? It's only a flesh wound. Please wake up, Jim."

Satisfied with his treatment of Jim's wound, Blair repacked the kit and pushed his backpack away. Taking the unconscious man's hand in both of his, Blair positioned two fingers over the pulse point. He sat for an unknown amount of time watching Jim, feeling the steady pulse beat beneath his fingers.

When he finally came back aware of his surroundings, and thinking that his friend might be getting cold, Blair started to reach for his jacket to take it off. His movements were stopped when two large arms grabbed him, trapping his own against his body, and dragged him up and away from his injured partner. His captor easily carried him back onto the trail, setting him onto the ground and wrapping one arm around his chest.

With a shriek of anger, Blair began to struggle frantically, kicking his feet into the legs of the large man holding him. He also began yelling at the top of his lungs, shouting for help and screaming obscenities at the man holding him. "No, damn it! Let me go, you bastard! HELP! JIM! Let go you son of a bit ack!" Blair's angry words were stopped abruptly when the arm around his chest slid up, encircled his neck and squeezed. He was pulled upwards until he was standing on his toes and couldn't breathe. With oxygen being cut off, his struggling became more violent and then slowly stilled.

No air! Black spots had begun to explode across his eyes and his body was going limp when the pressure around his neck finally eased. Gasping for breath, Blair felt himself released and he dropped to the ground. He landed face down, knocking out what little amount of air he had been able to pull in his lungs. His arms were pulled behind his back and a coarse rope was tied tightly around his wrists. Before he could catch his breath to start yelling again, a foul smelling cloth was forced into his mouth and tied behind his head.

Struggling not to choke over the taste coming from the cloth, Blair tried to look around but was unable to move very well. He could only see the legs of his attacker as the man stepped over him to pick up Jim's backpack. Walking back to his captive, the man took hold of Blair by his jacket and pulled him to his feet. With a yank, Blair broke free of the hands holding him and staggered around to get a look at the man.

He was a giant, or pretty close to it. The man stood at least 6' 8" or taller and was solidly built. He had long, shaggy black hair that was partially covered by a stocking cap but still hung in his eyes. His eyes; they were dark and looking at Blair like he was a specimen in a lab. Seeing the indignation in his captive's eye, the large man chuckled, his voice low and thick. The man wore clothes looking like something worn by fur trappers in old movies and smelling like they hadn't been washed in a week or more. He had Jim's backpack slung over one shoulder

Blair tried to stumble back and away, but the man reached forward and caught the edge of his jacket with a meaty hand. He was easily dragged back in the direction of where his partner lay.

"Don't fight me," the man's voice rumbled deeply when Blair tried to dig his heels into the dirt. It was no use. He could no more keep from being moved forward than he could stop the wind from blowing.

Reaching the still body of his friend, Blair suddenly surged forward and tried to break free. The giant moved his hand from the front of the jacket to the back, grabbing the smaller man by the collar and jerking him to a halt. With his huge boot, the man nudged the body of the detective. He remained unconscious. Before Blair could do anything, the boot hooked under Jim's shoulder and lifted upwards, rolling him over and down the embankment. The backpack was thrown after him.

Blair's shriek of 'No!' was muffled by the gag. He tried to go after his friend but was again stopped. Dragging the struggling man with him, the large man moved sideways and retrieved his prisoner's backpack.

Blair went berserk. Voicing muffled shouts through the gag, he kicked towards his captor and caught the man in the shin and then in the knee. Roaring in pain, the giant released his prisoner and clutched at his leg. Taking advantage of his freedom, Blair bolted down the trail in the direction he and Jim had come. It was toward civilization and help. But he had only run a short way when a heavy hand slapped down onto his back, knocking him down to the ground.

Before he could scramble back up, Blair was rolled over onto his back. Looking up, the last thing he remembered seeing was a large fist heading for his face. Then there was pain, stars exploded in his eyes and finally darkness.

It was the jarring action of landing on something barely cushioned that forced Blair back towards consciousness. He was cold, stiff and really unsure about what he had done to feel this way. Whatever he had in his mouth that tasted so terrible was removed. Fingers brushed his hair away from his face to touch the spot along his jaw that felt hot and sore. Oh, man. What happened? The touch was gentle, probing the area carefully, so it could only be one person. "J-Jim?" he croaked out.

"You shouldn't have kicked me and tried to run away," a gravelly voice rumbled. Something cold and wet was placed on his throbbing jaw.

Not recognizing the voice, Blair forced his eyelids open to see who was treating his injury. It was dark and the figure in front of him was fuzzy. When his eyes finally focused, the face looking into his wasn't the familiar one he expected. It was the guy who had kidnapped him after shooting his partner. The same one who had knocked him out with one punch after he had tried to escape.

With a surge of fear, Blair jerked himself away from the hand holding the rag on his face. He tried to scramble back but his hands, numb and still bound, hampered his movements. Wiggling frantically backwards on his side, he was stopped by a wall at the edge of the thin mattress he was lying on.

"Stay away from me." His mouth was too dry for his voice to rise above a whisper. When the large man picked the wet cloth back up and extended it towards him, Blair jerked his head back and smacked it against the wall. Looking frantically around for an avenue of escape, he could see that he was in a small room that had one window, shuttered, and one door. The only light available came from the room through the door.

"I'm not going to hurt you. But if you start yelling again, I'll put the gag back. Danny can't have loud noises right now." Standing up, the large man moved away from his cringing captive and walked towards the door.

"W-wh-why?" Blair forced the word out, making the man turn back and look at him. He swallowed hard at the look the other gave him. "Wha what do you want?"

"Danny says you're a special person and you have a a power to help him." Blair could hear skepticism and something close to anger in the larger man's voice. "He thinks your magic can make him better." The door closed, leaving Blair in the dark, alone and scared.

"Oh, God," Blair whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Not again." Lying back down onto the bed, he struggled to hold in the tears. The one thing that helped him keep control was the knowledge he had through their bond that Jim was unconscious, but still very much alive. Clinging to that, he allowed natural sleep to claim him

Ellison didn't know which brought him back to consciousness, the steady hammering behind his left eye or the snowflakes that were falling and melting on his face with increasing frequency. Maybe it was both or neither, but he knew that he had to wake up. As if he was lifting a ton of weight with each lid, Jim forced his eyes open.

Despite the canopy of tree limbs overhead, snow was softly falling all around him. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear his vision, he carefully lifted his head to see where he was lying. The movement caused the dull ache to sharpen and spread from his temple, over his head and down his neck.

Lifting his hand, Jim felt the bandage encircling his head. With a groan, he called out to the person he expected to see when he came to. "Sandburg?" There was no answering reply. "Sandburg? Blair!" Jim shouted louder, fear forming in his chest when he didn't get a response. In the back of his mind, he thought he could hear the anguished scream of a large cat.

Struggling to sit up, Ellison became aware of his location. He was lying at an angle on a hillside, his back against a tree. It had apparently stopped his downward movement. Looking around, he saw his backpack laying a short distance away but no indication that his friend and partner was anywhere in the area. Whoever shot me must have taken him, Jim thought with apprehension. He tried to 'feel' for Blair along their bond but the pain in his head was clouding his mind. I need to find that dial. Think, Ellison. What would Blair say to help you?"

Finally remembering, he struggled to take control of his breathing. He was able to find the dial for pain and bring the blinding throb down to a more manageable level. With the lessening of the pain, he was able to 'find' his friend and reassure himself that Blair was alive but frightened. Now he had to find him as soon as he figured out where he was.

The area around him was dark but not completely, his internal clock telling him that it was some time around dawn. The snow already on the ground was reflecting the light from the brightening sky, giving him all the light he needed to see. Moving carefully, Ellison used a tree to pull himself up into a standing position. The world tipped dangerously onto its side for a few minutes. With a supreme effort, and several deeps breaths, his vision straightened. He took careful steps over to where the backpack lay, took a firm hold of its strap and then climbed up the hill.

Reaching the top, Ellison saw that he was at the trail he'd last been with Sandburg. Using his enhanced eyesight, he scanned the area for any clue as to who had shot him and took his friend. While the falling snow was starting to cover the grassy areas the dirt trail was only becoming muddy. But, it wasn't going to stay that way long. The snowfall was getting heavier and, from what his senses were telling him, going to continue for quite some time.

Focusing on one spot that caught his attention, he could tell there had been a struggle of some sort. The area was torn up but there were a few good footprints visible. One was definitely Sandburg's; the sole markings of his hiking boots were easily recognizable. The other prints were of a large man; bigger than he was which probably allowed him to easily subdue his much smaller friend.

Searching further around, Ellison was able to locate his map lying off the trail and partially buried in the snow. It must have fallen there after he'd been shot. Finding his current location, Jim mapped the direction he felt Blair was in. The snow was going to eventually eliminate any trail left by his partner's captor, so he needed to plan the route to find them by using the map and their bond.

When he felt he had calculated the best path to travel, Jim squatted down and dug into his backpack. He first brought out his service weapon and, removing it from it's holder, checked the magazine. Satisfied it was fully loaded, he reholstered it and hooked it on the back of his belt behind his back. Then he dug for his water bottle and the aspirins he knew he had packed. Downing two of the pills with several swallows of water, Jim went through a mental preparation of what he was going to do. "Don't worry, Chief. I'll find you," he spoke with quiet confidence.

A throaty growl from above echoed his words. Like a comforting specter, Ellison's spirit guide lounged on the limb above him. 'We'll get him back,' it seemed to say. With that firmly set in his mind, he replaced the water bottle and closed up the backpack. After settling it comfortably onto his shoulders, Jim set off into the falling snow following behind an animal that left no tracks.

Blair walked over to the shuttered window for what was probably the tenth time since he'd decided that he wasn't going to cower on the bed and act like a victim. When he had awakened earlier, he had been at a loss as to where he was. The dim light coming through the single, shuttered window was barely enough for him to see that he was in a sparsely furnished bedroom, lying on an uncomfortable bed with his hands tied behind his back. No change from last night. Blair's prayers that the previous day's events were all a bad dream had not been heard.

Squinting through the cracks of the shutter on the window, he could tell that it was snowing outside. As for what time of the day it was, he didn't know. He couldn't look at his watch with his hands still tied behind his back. He had finally quit trying to free himself earlier when the ropes bit deep enough into his wrists to make them bleed. Luckily, they were too numb for him to feel the results of his actions.

Hearing something through the closed door, Blair moved over to it and leaned his ear against the wood. All he could hear was two muffled voices, one of them deep enough to belong to the guy who had grabbed him. Blair's jaw ached enough to remind him that the guy could probably break him in two without even trying. He could move pretty fast for a man of his size, too. Blair had found that out the hard way.

The two voices sounded like they were arguing and something told Blair that he was the subject of that conversation. "I could really use you here, Jim," he mumbled, moving back and sitting on the bed. "It's starting to feel like another Peru scenario and I don't think I can do this, man." A nervous fear was starting to build in his chest and Blair knew he couldn't let it overwhelm him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on getting back into control but also to feel for his partner. He didn't hear the door to his room open.

"Who's Jim?"

Blair's eyes snapped open. The figure he saw standing in the doorway definitely was not the giant, though he was pretty tall. His face was in a shadow, since the only light available came from the room behind him. As the man leaned comfortably against the doorframe, he shifted slightly and Blair could see that he was carrying a tray. A tall, cylindrical object on the tray looked like a bottle of water.

"The guy your friend shot. He's a cop and my partner." Blair tried to keep his voice calm but it cracked on the last word. "Who are you?"

The man dropped his head, leaned against the door jam and gave a heavy sigh. "Great, a cop. I'm Daniel Wils uh, Wilkins but you can call me Danny. Unfortunately, Toby doesn't think through things very well when he's trying to do things to help me. I'm sorry this happened the way it did."

Hope flared slightly in Blair's chest. "You could let me go. I'll forget about you two and what's happened here. I'll tell Jim I escaped and can't remember where this place is, okay?"

Wilkins walked over to the bed and sat down, causing Blair to stand up and skitter away. Moving carefully, the man placed the tray onto the floor. "Looks like you weren't too successful at getting free. Here, let me get the ropes off." Blair looked carefully at the man. He didn't look like some crazed mountain man, but looks could be deceiving. The guy definitely had similar features as his much larger partner, though he didn't wear his hair as long. The two had to be brothers.

"Don't do it, Danny. He'll kick you and try to run away again." The giant, Toby, stood in the doorway. Startled, Blair jumped and moved further into the corner away from both men.

"He can't stay this way, Tobe. He's torn his wrists up with the rope and they can become infected unless we treat them. You remember what happens when something gets infected, don't you?" The tone of voice Danny was using with his brother told Blair that the later probably had a slight mental deficiency. "Do you promise not to run away if I untie you?" he asked Blair.

With a careful nod, Blair moved hesitantly back over to the bed and presented his bound hands to his captor. He relaxed slightly when Toby stepped back away from the door, but it was short lived. The large man returned holding a First Aid box and walked over to his brother.

Blair hissed in pain when the ropes were untied and pulled away from the raw skin. Clenching his eyes shut, he tried not to cry out by gritting his teeth. A moan was still able to escape.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to be as gentle as possible but wow, you've really got some pretty bad scarring here." Wilkins took a careful hold of one arm and examined the wrist more closely. "What happened?"

Blair panted a few breaths before he was able to speak. "You're not the first person to grab me, man. What is it with you psychos and your need to kidnap me? I'm getting pretty damned tired of being treated like some grand prize to be acquired by any means available." With a tug, he yanked his arm away and sat on the bed as far from the two men that he could, cradling both limbs against his chest. "Why am I here? What do you want?"

Wilkins took the medical kit from his brother, shaking his head at the large man when he opened his mouth to speak. "Let me see your wrists," he ordered, gesturing to Blair. When the later didn't move, Danny gave his brother a look. Toby nodded and walked out of the room. "I'm not going to hurt you, Blair. Get over here and let me look at them."

Startled to hear the other call him by name, Blair didn't move away when Danny shifted closer and reached for one of his arms. "I don't remember ever meeting you. How do you know my name? Who are you?"

Gently taking one of the injured limbs in one hand, Wilkins started cleaning the scraped wrist with a sterile pad soaked with peroxide. The arm trembled but wasn't pulled away. He didn't reply to the questions even after he finished with the other wrist. He just started to put the supplies back into the box.

"Are you going to answer me? How do you know me?" Anger could be heard building in Blair's voice.

The man winced at the loudness of Blair's voice. "I heard one of the men you were staying with say your name. The other one always called you Chief or Sandburg, which I guess is your last name. You're also an anthropology student."

"How? I've never seen you anywhere near " Blair stared at the man sitting beside him. He had noticed how the other flinched when he had raised his voice. Looking around, he observed how dim the light in the other room was. "Do you sometimes have trouble with lights being too bright and colors extraordinarily brilliant? Do you get blinding headaches because of that?" At Danny's nod Blair continued the questioning but stood and moved to the far side of the room, his arms wrapped protectively around his chest. "And strange problems with your hearing?"

Again, the other man nodded, held a hand up and rubbed his fingers together but then dropped them back to his lap. "There's some other things that don't need to be discussed right now."

Blair didn't pay attention to the comment. "You had to be up in the hill behind the house to hear us on the deck. I don't understand. If you wanted to talk to me you could've--"

"I don't know why I was over near Conifer last week and no I couldn't just walk up to the back door and talk to you." Wilkins gave him a look that said 'don't be stupid.' "Anyway, I found myself above the house and heard you all talking. Something told me that you could help me with this problem. Make it go away or help me like you do that other guy." He gave Blair a pleading look. "I told Toby about what I heard and saw and then had one of my headaches. It was a bad one and I only just got rid of it this morning. I only found out an hour ago that Toby brought you here to help me."

"Listen, I've only studied people like you. I-I don't know how to help you, man." The lie fell out of Blair's mouth easy enough but he knew the other didn't believe him. "Can I go now? I've got to get back to my friend. He's hurt and needs me."

Picking up the tray and setting it on the bed, Danny fiddled with items on it. Blair eyed the water bottle. He was very thirsty, not having anything to drink since before he had been taken. The other man noticed. "You really need to get something in you. I can tell you're hungry or at least thirsty. You can't go traveling in this type of weather without something in your stomach."

With a nervous glance at the empty doorway, and after eyeing the water bottle again, Blair walked back over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge, he watched as Danny picked up a sandwich from the tray and started eating. Reaching for the bottle of water, Blair removed the cap and drained half of it in several gulps. He reached for a sandwich and took a bite, throwing glances at the man beside him. The other seemed preoccupied with his food. Silence filled the room.

"How long have you had these, uh, your problems?" Blair finally asked, trying to make the question sound innocent. Despite the genuineness he used, he felt as though the other man could read him as easily as Jim did.

"A few years, I guess. They've definitely gotten worse after moving here. This place used to belong to an uncle and I inherited it after he died. Toby wasn't able to survive in the city and they were going to lock him up. I sorta needed to get away from the city too, so we decided to come up here. The solitude has helped him a lot." Danny watched as Blair took another sandwich from the plate and waited until he had eaten the final bite before asking, "You had said that men like that one guy, Jim, are called sentinels. What are they?"

Almost choking, Blair struggled to swallow the last of the sandwich. He could feel his heart skip a beat and was sure by the look on the other's face that he had heard it, too. "I ~cough~ excuse me. I don't know what you heard but it wasn't what you think, man."

"Jim said that you helped him use his senses. You can do the same for me, Blair. Please, I need your help. I'll go crazy if I can't make them work right or just go away. Say you'll stay and help me. I know you like it up here. I heard you say how beautiful it is."

Blair tried to remain calm, but he could almost guess what would happen if he said no. He said it anyway. "I won't go through this again, man. Jim is my partner and I only work with him. He's also my friend and I'm not going to do anything behind his back. Especially with all that's happened up to now. I can't help you. Sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Blair. But if it'll make it any easier on you, I'll make sure your friend is out of the picture so you won't feel guilty." Raising his voice, Wilkins called out, "Toby!"

As if by magic, the large man appeared in the doorway. He walked determinedly towards Blair, a cloth was clutched in one hand. "I told you he wouldn't do it, Danny. Only I can help you."

With a startled gasp, Blair surged to his feet. Before he could make any move to avoid the man moving towards him, his arms were pinned to his side at the elbows. Danny had moved behind Blair and struggled to hold onto the twisting body.

"He's the one, Tobe. Hurry up and just do it!"

"NO!" Blair was able to yell before Toby pressed the cloth to his face over his mouth and nose. He tried desperately to turn his head away from the sickening, sweet smell that permeated the rag only to have a large hand clasp the back of his head. Unable to hold his breath any longer, Blair inhaled deeply.

The effects of the chloroform were immediate. The room began to spin madly and Blair felt the muscles in his body relax. Darkness flowed over his eyes and before his consciousness fled, he heard whispering in his ear. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." His soul screamed in terror as a memory surfaced. In desperation, he flung a plea through their bond. JIM! Then he knew no more.

The snow was falling heavily in large, wet flakes, sticking to everything it touched. Already there were several inches on the ground. Ellison paused in his trek through the precipitation to pull the map out of his jacket. The problem with topographical maps was that they were generalized in nature. Also, the seasonal changes caused landmarks to alter or just disappear. Therefore, they weren't always accurate. This one wasn't any better.

What had looked like a good trail ended up as a dead end due to a stream that had cut itself a fairly deep chasm. The falling snow hadn't helped the situation either. The layer of white stuff along the banks of the stream made it hard to determine just how sturdy, or unstable, they were. Either way, it was now impassible and Ellison had spent the last couple of hours traveling along it to find a way across.

He was still heading in the general direction he felt Blair was in and that kept him going along the stream. While nothing along their bond indicated that his friend was injured, the amount of information he was receiving was minimal. He must have closed our connection partially off again. Damn it, Chief! I need to kno Jim's angry thoughts were halted by a sudden surge of terror through the bond. As if their connection had been thrown wide open, he clearly felt Blair 'call' to him. But as suddenly as the burst along the bond appeared it was quiet again, like a dimmer switch on a ceiling light had been twisted up high and then back down again very quickly.

Catching his breath in a gasp over the terror he had felt, Ellison quickly searched back along the bond. When he reached the barrier Blair had built to control the amount of information he released, Jim tried to push past it. The mental abilities of his partner were definitely well developed because the barrier remained solid.

It frustrated him that he could only receive the slight reassurance that Blair was still alive but now apparently unconscious. With every part of his soul, Jim 'called' out to his friend, brother, Shaman to be let in. After what seemed like an eternity, as if he was finally recognized as the one person who could be allowed past, the barrier weakened. Jim was allowed through and he finally had full contact with Blair.

He could tell that Blair's unconsciousness was too deep to be natural. He had to be drugged. Jim could also feel that the younger man's jaw was sore and there were burning sensations at the wrists. Gratefully, nothing was life threatening. Knowing there were only minor injuries, Ellison mentally sighed in relief.

Coming back to himself, Jim realized that he was down on his knees and covered with a light layer of snow. The cold, wetness of the ground was seeping through his jeans, chilling the skin underneath. Shifting off one knee to stand, he almost fell over in exhaustion. This must be how Blair felt before he passed out, he thought, throwing a hand against a nearby tree for balance. Leaning back onto his heels, Jim unbuckled the straps to his backpack, slid it off his shoulders and dug through one of the side pockets for his stash of candy. He wolfed down two Hershey bars before the tired feeling dissipated. As a safety measure, Jim ate a third bar and then drank deeply from his water bottle.

Pushing against a tree, Ellison slowly pulled himself up to a standing position. Only feeling a minor amount of disorientation, he used his eyesight to peer some distance along the rushing stream. Concentrating carefully, he saw what could be a way to safely cross the water about a hundred yards ahead. Shouldering his backpack once again, Jim trudged forward through the deepening snow to check it out.

Remembering how he had felt Blair call to him earlier, Jim started sending his own call through their bond. A steady, calm stream of thoughts to help his friend wake up and comfort him when he did.

The first sensation Blair felt as he returned to consciousness was a queasiness in his stomach. It then combined with the dizzy feeling that swam through his head, causing a groan to escape from his tightly clamped mouth. He knew that if he didn't get it under control, he was going to lose anything and everything currently residing in his stomach.

Cracking his eyelids open slightly, what little that could be seen in the room jumped and wavered in and out. Slamming shut his eyes, Blair took several long, deep breaths in and out of his nose. When the distortions quieted down in his mind, he slowly opened his eyes again and saw that the room was also standing still. Gingerly, he raised his head and looked around. He thought he had heard someone or something that had awakened him but he couldn't see anyone in the room.

Blair was alone. Lying his head back down, he struggled to remember what had happened to him. He was once again on the bed he had awakened on the last time, only he was now without his coat and covered by a thermal blanket. The memory of how he got here this time suddenly flooded back into his brain and the last words he remembered hearing. Jerking his head back up, Blair searched the room again in desperation.

He's not here. Lash is dead. Blair repeated the two phrases in his mind several times while confirming to himself that he was alone in the room. Eventually, the mantra calmed his heart and gave him back control of his thoughts.

With effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and then clutched at his midsection when the movement caused it to spasm. As what little he had in his stomach forced its way up his throat, Blair saw and scrambled towards a bucket located near the bed. He lost the battle to keep the food down.

When there wasn't anything more to heave up, Blair moved back and weakly leaned against the bed. He swallowed a few times to stop the nauseous feeling. "Had to be caused by whatever was on the rag." Looking at his watch, Blair saw that only one day had passed since he had been kidnapped. "They probably only used ether or chloroform on me. Why? They have only temporary effects." Blair mumbled to himself. Then he smacked his forehead. "You are really stupid, Sandburg. You should be happy they didn't decide to really put you out. I think it's time to get outta here and find Jim."

Climbing slowly to his feet, Blair walked softly to the door and placed his ear against it. Silence. His two captors were probably going after Jim and he had to warn his partner about them. Taking a gentle hold on the doorknob, he twisted it slowly. It didn't turn. In frustration, he shook the knob and bumped his shoulder against the door. There wasn't any movement. Like a caged animal, he paced around the room searching for a way to escape and finally ended up at the shuttered window. Pushing up the pane of glass, Blair could feel the cold of the outside whistle through the shutter.

Squinting through the cracks between the planks, he could see that it was full light outside but it was also very white. "Oh, man. Cold, wet snow and I don't have enough clothes on me now to keep warm in here," Blair moaned. Looking back around the room, he saw that his backpack was absent and the only other thing he spotted that might be useful to use was the blanket. "At least it'll be something."

Turning back to the window, Blair probed around the wood covering it and discovered that it was only latched shut. Checking his pockets, he found to his surprise that he still had his pocketknife. He extracted the longest blade, poked it between the planks and started worrying at the metal latch. It took several long minutes, but eventually Blair was able to work the device loose enough to unhook it. Pounding at the stubborn shutters, they suddenly flew open. Grabbing the blanket off the bed, he threw it out the window and then followed it to his freedom.

The snow was easily ankle deep and fell about him thickly. Shaking out the blanket, Blair draped it over his head and shoulders and clutched it around his body to keep from getting wet too quickly. He sidled along the cabin until he was at the back, stopping in a moment of indecision. Should he try to go around front and get his coat and backpack? "Think!" he whispered fiercely to himself. "If one of them are nearby, I'll be caught and probably drugged again. But without my coat, I could end up freezing to death before finding Jim." With only a single glance towards the building, Blair made his decision and bolted for the nearby trees.

As heavy as the snow was falling, Blair knew that the blanket covering him was only going to keep him dry for so long. Hopefully it would be long enough for him to find Jim or visa versa. The only good thing about the strength of the storm was that it would cover his trail very quickly. When he felt he was at a safe enough distance from the cabin, Blair squatted down near a group of trees, using them as a shield. With the blanket tightly clasped around him, he dropped his head, closed his eyes and 'searched' for Jim.

Almost instantly, he felt comforting feelings flowing through the bond to him. It was Jim and he was all right. Blair allowed himself a minute to revel in the contact with his partner. Knowing that his Sentinel was alive and well seemed to give him confidence and strength. With little effort, as if he were extending his hand, Blair reached through the bond towards the other. He was rewarded by an answering clasp, his mental hand enfolded by the jubilant feeling of Jim reaching towards him. An exalted feline cry echoed through the bond.

Reaching further within himself, knowing that he was going to need help navigating the wilderness, Blair threw out a mental call. Since his wolf spirit guide had shown up in the past to help him, he had no concern that it might not do so now. The 'animal' seemed to take great pleasure in appearing anytime its Shaman called to it and this time was no different. Without opening his eyes, he 'felt' something watching him and knew his wolf was nearby. He sent a grateful thanks to it.

A small trembling vibrated through his body, causing Blair to bring his attention back to his surroundings. The blanket was getting wet from the falling snow and he was now getting damp. Not a good time to be spacing out, Sandburg. Wet times cold means you can get into serious trouble. Time to get moving and find Jim before the terror twins do. Shaking the snow off the blanket, Blair stood back up and took a careful feel for which way to go. It was like finding a very familiar beacon in the fog. That's what woke me up. Jim's gonna love it. Looking in the direction it was coming from, he was just able to see the faint outline of the wolf. Clutching his blanket tightly around him, Blair started through the trees.

Jim Ellison was definitely in a better mood. Despite having to hike over unfamiliar terrain in a heavy snowstorm, he was once again in contact with his partner and the young man was traveling towards him. Blair's presence in his subconscious was giving Jim the confidence he needed to use his sentinel abilities more freely. By the strength of the feelings from Blair, they were probably only a couple of hours apart.

The falling snow had the effect of muffling all the sounds around the area. Even with his hearing turned up, Jim was only able to catch the sound of an occasional limb cracking under a heavy load of white precipitation. But with Blair's presence in his mind, he could keep the level high and not worry about a zoneout.

One big problem he was having involved the extreme brightness from all the snow. He needed some strong sunglasses or a good way to turn his eyesight down to prevent snow blindness. If there was only a way to filter the glare down. Wait, maybe there is. If I can cut out problem smells or sounds, why can't I do the same with the light? Thinking on how he could do it, Jim paused for a minute to try. Nothing happened.

"Damn it!" Ellison's frustration was mostly directed at himself for not letting his partner teach him new things. But he was also frustrated that Blair didn't act more assertive when it came to making him experiment. Realizing what he was thinking, Jim chuckled. "I don't blame you, Sandburg. I can be a real bastard sometimes."

Maybe if he asked Consciously, Jim reached mentally for his partner and was met almost immediately. Blair's calming presence flowed through his mind as if the younger man was standing beside him speaking in low, gentle tones. Jim could almost hear Blair telling him to relax and take deep breaths and to concentrate. Shifting to lean back against a nearby tree, he obeyed the instructions he had heard so many times and brought his thoughts into control.

Once he felt he was centered, Jim started working on his vision dials. Using the technique his friend had taught him when they first started working together, the light around him darkened comfortably. Jim almost shook in relief when he opened his eyes and was able to see the snowy white forest in front of him without the blinding glare. "Thanks, Chief. I owe you," he murmured.

Pushing away from the tree, Ellison took a quick scan of the area around him. As close as he was to Sandburg now, he didn't want to be surprised by whoever had started the situation in the first place. Listening carefully, he heard a whispered argument somewhere between himself and where he knew Blair was coming from. Pulling his weapon from its holster, Ellison unbuckled and removed his backpack. The tracker part of him was no longer needed. It was time for the Sentinel to take over and go get his Shaman.

Blair knew he was in trouble. The little shivering throughout his body that had bothered him since escaping from the cabin had turned into deep, bone rattling shakes. He was able to control them only by forcing his body to relax and that was getting harder to do. The blanket he still wore around his shoulders was almost useless since it was now wet from hiking through the storm. It was just one more layer between his cold body and the snow.

His hair hung about his face in dripping strands, since he had removed the blanket as protection a ways back. While he didn't have his Sentinel's hearing, his was still pretty good and the blanket eliminated all the sounds around him. Without the blanket, his head became soaked in a short time. He also didn't want to think about how cold his hands were. The fingers were dark red and almost frozen stiff clutching the edges of the cloth around him.

About the only part of him that wasn't experiencing wetness was his feet. However they were cold. While his hikers did the job they were bought for, keeping his feet dry, they did little to keep them warm. Blair knew he had feet but they were just cold blocks on the ends of his legs. Let's see, I've probably got a good case of hypothermia, possible frostbite and will eventually end up with pneumonia before this is all over. He shifted the blanket closer around him in an attempt to reduce the cold.

Stumbling around a tree that seemed to appear from no where in front of him, Blair pulled up short when he heard a warning growl. Unconsciously, he backed around behind the tree he had just passed and became still. He clenched his teeth to silence the chattering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the crouched shape of his wolf facing the direction he had been traveling and turned towards the animal. It looked at him and then started moving forward at a low crawl. He was warning Blair, urging him to now move with caution.

Looking around the area, Blair's eyes sought out and located dead fall from a previous storm. The limbs were partially buried under the heavy snow, but enough stood up above the growing drifts for him to spot. Peeking around the tree for whomever his spirit guide had warned him about, Blair quickly shuffled over to the snow mound he knew to be a fallen tree. Kicking away the snow, he uncovered a treasure trove of limbs. Picking one from the pile, he hefted it a few times to get comfortable with its weight. He wasn't going to be caught without putting up a good fight this time. Dumping the sodden and useless blanket, Blair shouldered his club and moved cautiously in the direction the wolf had gone.

Ellison moved like a wraith through the wooded area, shifting from tree to tree on the trail of his quarry. He kept replaying in his mind the whispered conversation that had alerted him earlier to keep focused on what he had to do.

"You don't need that guy, Danny, and he don't want to stay with us. I'll bet he'll try to hurt you if you make him stay."

"We've been over this already, Toby. Blair knows how to help me with the problems my hearing and eyesight are giving me cause he's done it before with another. He'll also help keep my headaches away. Don't you want me to get better?"

"You don't like the way I helped you?"

"I didn't say that. You did a good job, but Blair can make them stay away forever."

"But he wants to leave."

"He'll stay and help me once his friend isn't looking for him anymore. We need to take care of this guy the same way you took care of your doctor in the city."

"I didn't mean to hurt Dr. Palmer. But he wanted to lock me up and give me shots. When I stopped him you said it was wrong."

"This time it'll be all right because this guy is trying to keep me from getting better."

"And when you're all better can we send Blair away?"

"Then we'll take care of Blair, too."

~long silence~

"Well, okay. But he better not try to hurt you."

"I'm sure he'll behave once we take care of his friend. Now you wait along the trail here. I'll swing around to the side and I'll come up behind him."

"Just like when we're hunting."

"That's right, Tobe. He should come up the trail this way, so be real quiet now."

Then the whispering stopped and Ellison heard one of the speakers shuffle away through the snow. The guy's not another sentinel, I would've felt him. But since he's having a problem with two of his senses, he learns about Sandburg and takes him to help get control. Who is he and how long has he been following us? His anger was now simmering. He now knew why Sandburg had been taken and that just left finding out who the guys were and stopping them. Then he could go find his Shaman.

With the knowledge he had acquired, Jim changed his direction of travel. He knew one of the kidnappers was waiting for him further on up the trail but he was more worried about the one that was supposed to be circling around. He had sounded like the leader of the two and that was the one he decided to go after. The guy might have enhanced hearing and sight, but he probably hadn't gotten any training from Blair and wouldn't in the future if Jim had anything to say about it.

It was getting harder for Blair to walk. He was so cold that the shakes were now continuous, he could barely feel his hands and feet, and was starting to get very sleepy. Determined, he kept pushing through the deepening snow with his 'weapon' clutched against his body. The way his wolf guide had acted, Blair knew that Danny, Toby, or both men couldn't be too far ahead of him and he had to try and stop them from hurting Jim.

Suddenly, a gray and white shaped flashed in front of him. Stopping abruptly, he searched around to see why the spirit animal did that to catch his attention. Peering through the snowfall, he was barely able to see the form of a large man crouching behind a pair of trees that split away from each other in a tight 'V' shape. It was Toby. He was carefully peering around the trunks, a rifle lying across his lap.

Trying to move as silently as he could, Blair crept up behind the still man and raised his weapon over his head. Just as he started to swing downward, Toby turned and looked straight at him. The man's deep, dark eyes widened in recognition just as Blair brought the limb down. The sound of the impact, wood meeting skull, echoed sharply as the limb broke into two pieces. Toby dropped the rifle and sat back into the snow. As his eyes rolled up into his head, he slowly collapsed over onto his side unconscious.

Blair stared at the still body, surprised he even had the strength to hit the man much less knock him out. Moving forward carefully, keeping his piece of the tree limb raised, Blair placed a trembling hand against the large man's throat. He found a strong, slow pulse and sagged down onto his knees. No matter what the man had done to him, or threatened to do to Jim, his death was one thing that Blair didn't want on his conscience.

Dropping the broken piece of wood, he crawled forward and stretched out his hand for the fallen rifle. As much as he didn't like guns, Blair knew better than to leave it behind. Awkwardly, he placed the butt of the weapon on the ground and, leaning heavily onto the barrel, used it to push himself back up. Once he felt he was steady enough to stand unaided, he slung the rifle over his shoulder.

Moving forward at a stumbling gait, Blair headed in the direction the man had been watching. He had moved only a few feet when the wolf again appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

"What?" he asked it, knowing that it couldn't answer him. Turning to the side, the animal took a few steps away and started down through the trees. Before it had gone too far, it stopped and looked back at him. It's eyes spoke volumes though no words came from its mouth. Blair had to go in this direction if he wanted to get to his Sentinel.

Moving towards the wolf, Blair had just reached the trees when the animal bounded forward and was gone. One moment it was there and then, after going past a tree trunk, it just vanished. Blair stumbled to a halt and leaned against a tree.

"Okay, Jim," he said, speaking in a normal tone to his absent partner. "I've got a feeling that you're probably close enough to hear me. Bad thing is that Danny might be, too. So, I'll make this short." His breath catching in his throat, Blair halted his warning as a fit of shaking spread violently through his body. Clasping his arms across his chest and tucking his hand into his armpits to warm them, he struggled to control the vibration. After what seemed like hours, he was able to force the shaking down to a more manageable level.

"God, I'm cold," he mumbled tiredly, his voice quaking with emotion and cold. Pulling himself back together, he continued with his warning. "Okay. I've taken care of one of the guys. Watch out for the other, Daniel Wilkins or whatever his real name is. He's the brains and has some of the same advantages you have. I'll try to help you if I can." Hitching the rifle into a more comfortable position, Blair started once again in the direction his wolf guide had shown him. Determination kept him moving.

" and has some of the same advantages you have. I'll try to help you if I can." Despite the seriousness of the message, Ellison relaxed when he heard the words from his partner. While he knew through their bond that the younger man was alive, hearing Sandburg's voice gave him more relief than the feeling ever could. The only thing that worried him was the trembling tone and his use of the words 'I'm cold.' His friend had a real low tolerance for cold and it sounded like he had reached and maybe exceeded his limit. Unfortunately, taking care of that situation would have to wait.

Turning his attention back to the area around him, Jim stretched his hearing as far as he could without risking a zoneout. There. He could hear someone trying to move quietly through the snow off to his left. Despite the man's furtiveness, Ellison could hear the sound of his boots crunching through the snow. Piggy-backing his eyesight with his hearing, he searched for his quarry.

The snowfall was decreasing, smaller flakes flitted around madly in the light breeze that had picked up as the day had passed. This helped Ellison to see farther and find the man Sandburg had warned him about. He was shifting from tree to tree, a rifle held in the ready position. Using the skills that had been engrained into him from the military, Ellison moved in to intercept.

"Stop right there and drop the rifle!" Ellison shouted when he was in position, his pistol up in the firing position.

Wilkins was startled when he heard the shout, but quickly recovered and dove behind some nearby brush. He paused for a second then quickly popped up onto his knees and fired a shot in Ellison's direction. But there wasn't anyone standing where he fired since Jim had already stepped back behind the trunk of a large pine tree. Not knowing where the man had disappeared to, Wilkins crouched back down.

"Let's talk about this," Wilkins shouted, hoping to create a delay. He was sure that his brother had heard the shot and would be coming to help him.

"No problem, as long as you drop your rifle and come out with your hands above your head," Jim yelled back. After a quick look around the trunk, he moved silently around to the other side, across an open area and to a position closer to the other. Listening for any movement by the man, Jim's hearing was picking up the sound of ragged breathing accompanying a stumbling runner from the direction he had come. It had to be his partner, worried about the rifle shot.

"Why should I?" Wilkins yelled defiantly. He thought he heard Ellison shift to his right, but at that moment his hearing ability faltered. Suddenly his breathing sounded like a bellows. Covering his ears, he tried to shut out the chaos of noise that blasted through his head. Then, just as quickly as it started, everything went back to normal and he heard snow crunched nearby. Positioning his rifle beside his ribs, he looked around the area and saw the pistol being pointed at him by a stone-faced man with blazing blue eyes. "I take it you're Jim."

"Got it in one, Chief. Put the rifle down and stand up." Ellison moved a little closer to the man, ensuring a clear shot if he had to take one.

"I don't think so, mister. You shoot me and I shoot you in reflex. There's no way I can miss at this distance, either. Neither of us wins this chicken contest." Wilkins held the rifle steady, pointing it directly at Ellison's chest. Unexpectedly, both men heard the bolt action sound of a bullet being chambered in a rifle up the hill. Neither man took their eyes off the other.

"Toby? 'Bout time you showed up, Bro." Wilkins smiled at Ellison, but his smile quickly faded when he heard a voice he wasn't expecting.

"Not this time, Bro," Blair called down to the two men. Startled, Danny looked up the hill and saw Blair leaning against a tree holding a rifle pointed at him. "I suggest you give Detective Ellison your weapon, Danny. You don't want to test my aim at this distance."

Reaching over slowly, Jim grabbed the barrel of Danny's rifle and pulled it towards him. When he had control of the weapon, he followed the other man's gaze. Jim could tell his partner was on his last legs, soaked to the skin and shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. He could also see that Blair intended to maintain the bluff as long as he could. His friend gave him a tremulous smile, lowered the barrel of his rifle and started stumbling down the hill towards him.

"How?" Danny asked incredulously as Jim grabbed his arm and spun him around to search for other weapons. "There wasn't any trail to lead him here. How was he able to find us? Does he have what we have?"

Ellison kept his attention on his prisoner as he answered. "Your first mistake was taking him against his will after shooting me. Your second was thinking he would help you after that. Sandburg can be pretty resourceful when he needs to be. How're you doing there, Chief?" When Blair didn't answer him back, Jim quickly looked up towards his friend and saw him once again leaning heavily against a tree. His shaking was very visible. Ellison called out louder. "Chief?"

"Huh? Oh, s-s-sorry, Jim. I'm j-just so c-cold." Blair looked up at his partner, his face was almost pasty white from the cold and his eyes lacked their usual spark. Noticing the white bandage around his friend's head, Blair raised a shaking hand to point towards it. "Your head okay?"

Jim had forgotten about the injury. "I'm fine. You did a really good job taking care of it."

"M' job, man. Shaman's supposed to take care of his Sentinel." Blair's voice trailed off as he slumped harder against the tree. "Third time in less than a year. Why can't people just leave me alone?"

"Just hang in there buddy. Let me get this guy secured and I'll be right up there. Put your hands behind your back." The last was to Wilkins. Dazed, the man complied. Unbuckling his belt, Ellison pulled it off and used it to tie the other's hands. When he had them secured, he grabbed his prisoner by one arm and led him up to where Blair stood.

Reaching the younger man, Ellison took the rifle out of his shaking hands and then, removing a glove, placed his own hand to Blair's cheek. He caught his breath when he felt the cold skin. "God, Chief! You're freezing. How did you get so wet? Where's your coat?"

"As-ask him." Blair jerked his chin in Danny's direction. The movement looked more violent with the shakes that were rattling his body. "M-meet Danny Wilkins. After he and his b-brother knocked me o-out with some t-t-type of drug, I w-woke up without it. "

Quickly, Ellison shed his coat and wrapped it around Sandburg. "We've got to get you dry and warm. How far are we from your place?" He directed the question to his prisoner. Wilkins just stood sullenly by the two men until Ellison grabbed him by one shoulder and jerked his attention back to his surroundings. "How far!"

"Not far. Maybe and hour or so up the hill," came back the sulky reply.

"Think you can make it that far, Chief?" Blair just gripped the edges of the loaned coat tightly around him, turned and started a stumbling walk back up the hill. Slipping the straps of the two rifles over one shoulder, Jim gave his prisoner a shove in the direction Blair was heading. "Let's go, fella. And you better not try to lead us around in circles."

Jim's coat had helped warm him a little and the fact that the snowfall had dwindled down to flurries was also a blessing. Unfortunately, Blair was already suffering from his exposure to the elements and his mind wasn't able to focus too clearly. The wind had also started to pick up and was blowing in their faces.

Jim and Danny had passed him on the trail a while back and were leading the way the later said was the direction to his cabin. Blair was trying to keep up but the cold was stiffening his muscles, slowing him down. He had fallen slightly behind. When he suddenly recognized his surroundings, Blair stopped and turned around a few times to confirm the location.

"Jim?" he called out to his partner. When Jim turned back to him, he pointed at a pair of trees growing out in a 'V' shape. "I know this place. I'd knocked Toby out and left him here, but he's gone now."

Jim turned back to his prisoner, set down the rifles and was forcing Wilkins to sit down when he heard an enraged yell and Blair gasp the name 'Toby.' Looking towards his partner, he saw the young man staring at a very tall man running towards him. Blair had turned and started to run when the guy grabbed him around the neck in a chokehold, almost lifting him off the ground.

"You hit me!" the man roared in anger and punched Blair in the ribs with his free hand. "I told Danny--"

"Hold it!" "Toby, no!" Jim and Danny both yelled at the furious Toby. Jim had pulled the pistol from where he had stashed it in his belt and was moving quickly towards the struggling pair. He could see that Blair's air was being cut off and the blow to his chest had knocked the wind out of him.

"Let him go, NOW!" Ellison raced forward, pointing the pistol at Toby's face. He heard Wilkins trotting behind him. "Tell him to let go or I'll shoot."

"Toby! Don't hurt Blair. Just hold him until his friend lets me loose." Wilkins stopped abruptly when Ellison looked at him sharply. The expression on the detective's face was one of cold fury.

"If he doesn't let Blair go right now, I'll kill him. Tell him!" Ellison turned back around and saw that Blair had quit struggling, his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was going limp.

"You cut me loose and I'll-- "

"Times up," Jim warned and fired. The shot hit the large man in the shoulder, just missing Blair. Toby staggered back a few feet but maintained his hold. "Let him go!" Jim yelled. When the man raised a fist to strike his captive again, Jim fired a second shot. This time the bullet hit Toby in the neck. As his body snapped backward from the force of the impact, blood spurted from the small wound and he released his prisoner to clutch at his throat. Blair crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Tucking his pistol back into his belt, Jim knelt down next to Blair and pulled him up into his arms. He spared a quick glance at Danny as the man ran after his brother. Stumbling away through the trees, Toby keened a mournful howl. For a moment, Jim considered chasing after the two until his attention was brought back by the violent shaking of the body he held.

"Sandburg?" Ellison brushed the clumps of snow off from his friend's face and then placed his hand against the cold throat to feel for a pulse. The skin was icy and clammy but Jim was able to find a weak, steady pulse. "Can you hear me, buddy?" Blair lay shuddering, his breath coming in short gasps. Finding his coat that had fallen off the young man's shoulders when he was attacked, Jim worked until it was completely on the limp body and zipped closed. Blair didn't awaken throughout the process.

Ellison knew what happened to a person who didn't receive quick and proper treatment for hypothermia. They could and would die if their core body temperature wasn't raised and lost body fluids replaced. Sandburg was dangerously cold and the manhandling he had recently received escalated the danger to him. The only chance he had was for Jim to get him to someplace warm and dry as soon as possible.

Jim gathered Blair tighter into his arms, hoping to transmit some of his body heat. "Wake up, Sandburg. Damn it, it's dangerous for you to sleep now. Come on, Buddy. Let me see those baby blues before I start to get worried." Blair only shook harder.

Looking along the trail in the direction they had been traveling, Ellison was just able to see faint, snow-filled impressions. Knowing they had to be caused by his friend, Ellison stood up and gently pulled Sandburg up and then over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He wasn't happy carrying his unconscious partner this way but it did allow him to have a hand free to access his pistol. If Wilkins decided to do anything to further endanger Sandburg, Ellison wanted to be able to protect him. He left the two rifles lying in the snow, knowing he would have to come back for them and the backpack he had discarded back along the trail.

Carefully shifting the unconscious body more comfortably on his shoulders, Ellison began tracking the faint path that he knew would lead them to shelter. He had traveled only a short way when a black shadow paced out from behind a tree and took up a position in the front, leading the way through the snow. Training part of his hearing onto the heart beating against his back, Jim murmured, "Stay with me, Chief. We've got my spirit guide leading the way and can make it if you just stay with me."

Jim kicked open the door to the dark cabin and carried Blair over the threshold into the living room area. Spying a couch sitting in front of a cold fireplace, he walked over and gently lowered his friend down. Blair sprawled limply on the cushions.

"Where the hell are the lights for this place," Ellison spoke out loud to the empty room. Repressing a sigh of frustration, he scanned around the room until he located a lantern sitting on the mantle over the fireplace. Digging matches out of his pocket, he strode over to the lamp and lit it. Carrying it with him, Jim closed the front door and surveyed the surroundings.

The cabin was roomy but sparse in furniture with only a couch and chair with a couple of end tables near them facing the cold fireplace. The kitchen was on the backside of the room in one corner with a small table and three chairs around it. There were two doors that led off from the room, one which hung slightly open and another with a key in the lock. Seeing the key, Ellison presumed that that room was the one Sandburg had been kept, at least until he escaped. On either side of the door sat two large chests, one with a familiar looking backpack resting on it.

Dry, hacking coughs coming from the couch brought Jim quickly over to check on his friend. Tenderly, he brushed the wet, curly hair back to check Blair out. The young man had curled over onto his side, searching for warmth but was completely out of it. His skin was very icy to touch and Jim could easily feel the tremors rattling the body.

"Damn, Chief. You're body temperature has to be below 90 degrees, at least." Ellison murmured out loud to the unconscious man. He hoped that talking would reach through to his friend. Checking the pulse, Jim found it was slow and weak. He then checked out Blair's hands, the muscle in his jaw twitching when he saw the bandages. They still looked clean, so he left them there. Moving to the feet, he took off the shoes and socks and made a careful examination. "Hypothermia for sure, buddy. At least it wasn't cold enough for frostbite to set in. Your hands and feet are cold but have color and the flesh is soft. I think we just need to get you warmed up. I'll be right back."

Knowing what was needed to treat Blair, Jim first went over to the open door. It was a bedroom, an oversized bed frame lay just inside the door with just a mattress on it. There was nothing in the room he could use. Backing out of it, he next walked over to the closed door and tested the doorknob. Locked. Turning the key, Jim unlocked and opened the door.

A smaller bed sat against the far wall, also missing any coverings one would normally find on one. To the left was an open window, slushy snow covered the floor in front of it. Quickly, Jim walked over and closed it to stop the cold air that had been streaming through it. When he turned around to leave, he caught the faint odors of chloroform, antiseptic and blood. Looking back at the bed, he saw the ends of a piece of rope hidden partially under it. Sharpening his vision, he was able to see the stains of what was probably Sandburg's blood.

Cursing silently, Ellison stomped out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him. He promised himself that he would catch the Wilkins brothers before leaving Colorado if it was the last thing he did.

Turning to the chests beside the door, Jim opened the one on the left and found two, thick comforters and four heavy blankets neatly folded on top of two pillows. Leaving the pillows, he pulled out the coverings and carried them over to the fireplace. Then, returning to the other chest, he first grabbed the strap of the backpack on top of it and slung the bulky pack over his left shoulder. Jim lifted the lid. He found flannel sheets and thick, wooly towels. Knowing he would need all of them to warm Blair, he gathered the items into his arms and carried them back to the fireplace.

More coughing from the couch galvanized Jim into action. He knew that to treat hypothermia, he had to get Blair out of his wet clothes, wrapped up against the chill in the room and then get warmth applied to his truncal areas. First, he set Blair's backpack beside the couch. Jim knew his friend had some spare clothing in it that he could use.

Blair's shivering was rattling his body. Quickly, but gently, Jim stripped his coat and then all of the wet clothes off his friend. Grabbing some towels, he draped one over Blair's wet hair and used others to wipe the dampness off the quaking body. For his friend's modesty, Jim struggled to put back on him a tee shirt, underwear and a pair of socks. Then, taking one of the blankets, Jim wrapped it tightly around the cold body. It was a temporary covering until he could build up an appropriate place to warm his friend back up.

Pulling the rug that was sitting in front of the fireplace back slightly, Jim took one of the thick comforters and spread it on top. Next, he layered two sets of the sheets. Then he turned around, gently gathered Blair into his arms and laid him in the middle of the sheets. Finally, Jim used the rest of the blankets to cover his partner and then topped the pile off with the last comforter. It would be a very effective warming oven once a fire was started in the hearth to add heat to the room. However, before he left to gather wood, Jim used one of the towels to rub Blair's head, removing as much water from the wet locks as possible.

He had to get a fire going. The cabin had a damp chill about it that Ellison could easily feel despite having turned down his dial to resist the cold. He also needed to see if the stove was set up for propane gas or was it fueled by wood. Jim wanted to heat the towels he had found to help bring Blair's body temperature back up and then try to get tea or some other warm liquid down to rehydrate him.

"I'll be right back, Chief," Jim said soothingly, brushing the frizzing hair back away from Blair's face. "I'm just going out to get some wood." He didn't know if his friend could hear him or not, but Jim felt better just talking to him. After tucking the blankets tighter around the unconscious observer, and giving his hair a final stroke, Jim stood up and went outside.

Blair found himself wandering alone through a silent forest blanketed by deep snow. He was cold, shaking hard enough to make his teeth chatter uncontrollably, and very tired. He couldn't understand why he was back out in the forest since he remembered catching up with his partner. "Jim!" he called out to the uninhabited area, his voice sounding muted. "Where'd you go?"

The only answer he got was the whistling of the wind through pine boughs. Wrapping his arms about his body to try and warm himself, Blair stumbled forward through the snow. The wind swirled around him and he swore he heard a voice. "Hello? Anyone here?"

"You know how to help me, Blair."

He whirled around to see the person speaking. "Who's there?" No one was there to answer. "Who are you?"

"It's okay. It's okay. You'll like it here. I've got a great place for a prize like you."

"NO!" Blair screamed into the wind and ran blindly through the trees. He had to run, to get away from the voice that sounded so familiar. Where was Jim? Tripping over a snow covered branch, he fell onto his face at a pair of feet. Looking up, he saw that it was Toby.

"You hit me," the large man growled and raised his fist. "Only I can help Danny!"

Scrambling back onto his feet, Blair ran in the opposite direction away from the angry giant. He had to get away, had to escape and find Jim before Danny tried to kill him. He finally stopped when a deep ravine appeared in front of him with only a thin log stretched across it. "Jim!" he yelled across.

"Blair, I'm here."

"Jim, I need you. Please come get me." Blair paced in front of the ravine, far enough from the edge to not be bothered by its depth. Fear caused his voice to tremble, tears threatening to flood his eyes. Knowing he would have to cross the log to find his friend, Blair moved hesitantly towards the end of the skinny log facing him.

"Please help me, Blair. Like you did with your friend." Blair spun around at the sound of the voice and found Danny leaning against a tree, a rifle held casually in his hands. "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll make sure that Jim is out of the picture." The man raised his rifle and pointed it across the ravine.

"NO!" Blair screamed and lunged at the man. "JIM!"

Ellison clutched at the struggling body of his friend. "I'm here, Blair. I'm here and you're safe," he spoke quietly to the young man. "Wake up, Buddy. Open your eyes and you'll see that you're safe with me."

"No, I can't help you," Blair cried out, still in the midst of his nightmare. He threw out an arm and raised his fist towards his unseen tormentor. "I'm Jim's partner. I only work with him."

Ellison easily caught the flaying arm and pulled it back in. "That's right, Chief. You're my partner. I'm right here for you." Jim cupped his free hand along Blair's face and pulled him into his chest. Jim could feel that Blair's body temperature was warmer, but still lower than normal. "Open your eyes and you can see me."

Gradually, the thrashing stopped and Blair's breathing slowly calmed. His body still trembled, but not like it had before. Slowly, his heavy eyelids lifted up about half way allowing Jim to see the unfocussed blue orbs.

"That's it, buddy. You're safe now." Jim's voice drew Blair's attention and he looked up at the face bending over his.

"Jim?" Recognizing his friend's face, Blair allowed his taut muscles to go limp. "You're safe." Turning into the body holding him, he grabbed onto Jim's shirt, gave a sigh and allowed his eyes to close again.

Patting the face to get Blair's attention, Jim waited until the young man was aware of him. "Stay awake and drink something for me. We have to get some liquids down you, Chief."

"Cold an' tired. Wanna sleep."

"I know, but you're hypothermic and probably dehydrated. I've got something to help you with both problems." Propping Blair up further so that he leaned against his chest, Jim reached over for the cup of tea he had sitting nearby. Tipping it carefully,