Many years ago, I read a thick but wonderful book by Joyce Jillson entitled Star Signs. During the part of one section where she was talking about coming into her gift, she used one phrase that really caught my attention. She stated that in the paranormal field, when the student was ready, the teacher would appear. I felt this was a very proper and appropriate for someone who has had the title of shaman thrust upon him.

This is the next installment of my Sentinel/Shaman series. You all know the standard disclaimer about who belongs to whom and no money being involved. Whether or not you understand it is not my problem. However, if you have any questions or comments, good, bad or indifferent, I'm always willing to listen and you can send feedback to me at shallan@mho.net

Oh, I guess I should point out that, with certain sections of the book, I have been influenced severely by the writings of Mercedes Lackey. Specifically her several series involving the Kingdom of Valdemar. For those of you who have read some or all of the books, you'll know what I mean. *grin*

There are some references to the episodes of Love and Guns, Second Chance, definitely The Waiting Room and maybe one or two others that I can't remember the titles or forgot which one was touched upon. There are also references to my earlier stories so you might want to check them out first.

I thank Kelly Meding for beta'ing this monster and helping me see that I really need to learn how and where commas need to go. Old dogs are trying to learn new tricks. It just takes us a while.

Thanks and enjoy!

WHEN THE STUDENT IS READY...

Shallan

Empty Warehouse Late Wednesday Night

The clear, starlit sky with a half moon hanging mid way up the horizon provided sufficient light for the two men watching the nearby warehouse. The interior of the aged truck was chilly from sitting silent for several hours with the windows cracked open slightly to prevent condensation from forming.

~sniff~ ~cough~

"Jim?"

"No, Sandburg. I'm not going to take that stuff. Remember what happened the last time?" Jim Ellison's voice sounded nasally as he answered the question he knew his partner was going to ask.

"What? That it made you feel better and cleared up your head cold faster than by just letting it run its course? Come on, Jim. I know how miserable you're feeling." Blair Sandburg took the binoculars away from his eyes and peered across the darkened truck cab.

"It's not that bad. Just a little runny nose and a small cough from the draining. What are you worried about?"

"Catching what you have, man. I've got a date this weekend and I do not want to cancel it because my roommate wasn't considerate enough to take care of his own health. I know the root helped you before and it can do it again."

Pulling a tissue out of his pocket, Ellison blew his nose noisily. "I know that I can fail a departmental drug test by taking that stuff. What are you trying to do, get a new partner even before you're off probation?"

"I...I'd...How could you even..."

Seeing Blair blustering to deny the accusation gave Jim a comfortable feeling and, though not needed, assurances of the other's commitment to their partnership. He chuckled loud enough for Blair to hear.

Realizing what had just happened, Blair smacked Jim's arm with the back of his hand and then turned his attention back to the silent warehouse they were staking out. Lifting the binoculars back up to his eyes he mumbled, "Maybe I should. Rafe hasn't been officially assigned as Brown's partner. Yet."

~cough~ "Fat chance, buddy. You're stuck with me for the long haul," Jim mumbled back and watched the pleased smile spread across Blair's face. Having sentinel eyesight did have its advantages.

Jim found it hard to believe that it had already been two months since Blair had completed the required police academy training and was officially installed as his permanent partner. What wasn't surprising was that it had only taken the three months prior to his friend leaving and the entire five months of the training for the whole media hype that had occurred over the revelation of the dissertation to completely die down. As usual with the media, a new sensational story appeared across the headlines and the consideration that Cascade actually had a sentinel on their police force faded in everyone's memory much to the relief of those in the know.

The cases the two had taken on since their official pairing had all been low key and basic police work that drew no attention from the public or the media. The one they were on now was no different. There had been a plague of warehouse fires throughout the city at empty, run-down buildings that had been condemned due to severe safety violations. While the burning of the facilities had actually been beneficial, saving the owners the cost of demolition -- they were still a menace. There was nothing that indicated the person doing the torching would be satisfied at his or her current level of damage, either.

By all calculations, there were four possible warehouses in the city that could be targets of the pyromaniac. Major Crime detectives were staking out each one, with Jim and Blair getting one belonging to McKinley Chemicals. It had the least probability of being the actual target.

"Do you see that?" Blair asked suddenly, leaning forward in his seat.

Jim turned his attention back to the warehouse. "What?"

"I'm sure I saw a light flash past a window on the lower level, to the left. It's gone now, but I know what I saw. Listen and see if you can hear anyone in there." Looking at his partner, Blair watched him straighten in his seat and tilt his head.

Ellison focused his hearing towards the warehouse and became still. His head felt muffled with the cold he knew he was getting and had to concentrate harder than normal. Just as he was about to give up, he heard the clanking noise of something metal from the interior.

"There's someone in there all right," Jim finally said, pulling his cell phone out and punching speed dial numbers. "H? We've got movement. Looks like ours is the target site... Yeah, contact Connor and get over here." Closing the cell phone up, he tucked it into a pocket of his jacket. "Let's go check it out, Chief."

Blair grabbed his partner's arm as the other started to open the door. "Are you okay, man? It took you a long time there."

Ellison shook his arm free and threw an exasperated look at his partner. "I'm fine. Now do you want to come with me or wait in the truck like old times?" With that, he opened his door and stepped out of the truck.

"Fine. Excuse me for even caring," Sandburg sighed, opening his door and climbing out. Rubbing his forehead to ease the headache that had appeared between his eyes, Blair trotted quickly to catch up with his fast moving partner.

Moving around the piles of junk and empty crates that littered the front of the area, the two men stealthily approached the building. There were two overhead doors down at the far end of the warehouse with a small side door beside each. At the closest end, there was only a single door. It was this one that Ellison approached. Testing the doorknob, he found it unlocked.

Opening the metal portal carefully, both men flinched at the sudden rusty squeal the hinges made. Pulling his weapon from the holster at his back, Ellison slid around the door jam and flattened himself against the wall. Hearing a quietly voiced 'coming in' from the outside, he shifted far enough inside to allow Sandburg in beside him.

Blair could barely see in the darkened building. Even with the gentle rays of the evening moon coming through the broken windows, he was lucky to see the outline of the man next to him. "I can't see two feet ahead of me," he whispered sentinel soft, lightly grasping the back of Jim's jacket.

Feeling his partner's soft touch at his back, Ellison started moving carefully into the open area of the warehouse. His senses, despite being hampered by the blossoming virus, were on full alert: eyes fully dilated to see in the dimness; hearing all the way up to catch any noise; nose carefully testing the air for anything out of the ordinary.

Without warning, a loud shriek of metal against metal ripped through Jim's head. The blast of noise to his open senses caused him to jerk back sharply with a groan and stumble over Blair. Both men tumbled to the floor, Jim clutching his head in pain and Blair cushioning him on the way down.

"Jim? Come on, man. Take a deep breath and turn it down." Despite the calmness in his voice, Blair was frantic over the reaction of his sentinel. The screeching noise had been loud enough to hurt his ears and he could only guess how it had felt to Jim.

It took a few long minutes before Blair was able to pry Jim's hands away from his ears, allowing the sentinel to finally hear the soothing words the other was using to help. "Just relax Jim. You're back in control and have your hearing turned down. I'm watching your back so you just take your time and get control."

And he was. When Ellison had collapsed, he had dropped his pistol. Sandburg had pulled it close to them when he had found it in the area where it had fallen. He was splitting his attention between his hurting partner and the building where they were sitting. Blair thought he had heard an engine start up on the other side of the far wall, but stayed where he was at until he was sure Jim was all right.

"Sandburg?" Ellison groaned. "What happened?"

"Your hearing overloaded. I don't know what the guy was opening or closing, but it had me cringing, too. You okay?"

"My head's ringing and my ears hurt but...what's that smell?" Jim froze in his attempts to stand up when he smelled a familiar odor. Lifting his head and tilting it slightly, he inhaled deeper then coughed at the intensity of the scent.

Copying his friend's actions, Blair also took a deep breath. It was barely there, but he was able to smell gasoline fumes. "He's ready to torch this place, Jim."

"I know, I know," Ellison groaned as he pushed himself up onto his feet. "Let's get out of here and call the fire--" The crash of glass from a window breaking along the back wall stopped any further words. Before Ellison could zero his eyesight in on the object causing the clatter, it smashed onto the floor and erupted into flames. The conflagration sped along the floor on either side from where it hit, hungrily consuming the flammable liquid that had obviously been spread there earlier.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw a couple of canisters sitting in the path of the flames. Looking more closely at the writing on them, he abruptly grabbed Blair by the arm and dragged the startled young man with him as he ran for the door.

"Move it! It's going to explode!" Jim shouted as they reached the open doorway. Both men quickly jumped through the opening and began racing in the direction of the truck.

Having longer legs, Ellison was outdistancing his shorter partner when the explosion occurred. The force of the percussion lifted him up and threw him haphazardly forward to land in a crumpled heap, debris landing on and around him. He had only a fleeting glimpse of Sandburg tumbling to his left before falling into the black pit of unconsciousness.

Detective Henri Brown was in the first car to arrive at what used to be the warehouse for McKinley Chemicals. The whole left end of the building was reduced to rubble and burning merrily while the rest of what was standing was burning sporadically and billowing heavy smoke. He immediately called for additional help and the fire department.

Pulling in front of the blue, '69 Ford he knew belonged to Ellison, Brown jumped out of his car and trotted over to the driver's side of the truck. "You see them anywhere, Rafe?" he called out to his partner after looking into the cab and not finding anyone.

Detective J.E. Rafe had exited his side of the car and was slowly scanning the area around the burning building. "Nothing, H. You don't think they..." He looked at his partner and pointed towards the fire. A small crashing sound inside the flaming structure caused him to look back. That was when he saw the figure of a man struggle to rise amidst the debris.

"Jim?" Brown called out and ran to the dazed detective. He grabbed an arm that swung out towards him and helped the obviously unsteady man to his feet. "What happened, man? What caused the explosion?"

"Where's Sandburg?" Rafe asked as he approached the two detectives.

"Sandburg?" Ellison asked fuzzily, then started to look around the area. "He was right behind me when it blew. You haven't seen him?" Shaking off Brown's arm, Ellison turned around and started back towards the building, only to be stopped by the other two.

"Hang on, Jim. You're obviously not seeing too straight. Let me get you sitting down and Rafe and I'll look for him, okay?" Brown suggested in a placating manner and reached for Ellison's arm again. He wasn't surprised when the arm was yanked away from his grasp or by the intense glare the older detective threw him.

"I'm all right," Jim said with a little more force. After enforcing the statement with his patented Ellison stare, he started moving off to his left. He was stopped by a smaller, female figure stepping into his path.

Inspector Megan Connor had arrived on the scene shortly after she heard Brown calling for back up and the fire department at this location. She had been stationed at the third warehouse that was being watched and knew that she had broken several traffic laws to get to the scene as fast as she had. But when she had only seen Ellison being helped by Brown and Rafe on her arrival, Connor knew she had been right to get there as fast as she did.

"Can you hear him, Jim? Can you tell where Sandy is lying?" Megan asked when she had gotten the taller detective's attention.

Among a small group of the Major Crime detectives, Ellison's sentinel abilities were now known, though it had not been a big surprise to a couple of them. It had been a decision of Ellison, Sandburg and their captain, Simon Banks, that the awareness of the abilities be shared only with those they worked so closely with: Brown, Rafe and Captain Joel Taggart. Connor had found out about the abilities on her own. However, in order to be able to offer Sandburg a detective position on the force, the truth of the situation involving the dissertation and subsequent news conference had to be told to the police commissioner. The fallout and consequences from that had yet to be learned.

Ellison looked slightly confused at Connor's questions. Finally realizing what she was asking, he cocked his head slightly and tried to listen around the area. Unfortunately, he ears were still ringing from the explosion, which increased the problems his head cold was creating. "I...I can't hear anything over the ringing. Start looking around over there. I thought I saw him tossed in that direction." He shook his head and rubbed an ear to try to clear it as he pointed off to his left.

Seeing the other three spread out and start searching through the debris, Ellison closed his eyes, relaxed his body as much as he thought safe, then felt for the bond he and Sandburg shared. This was something that only he and his partner knew about. In accepting their partnership of Sentinel and Shaman, the two men shared a connection, a bond that was as tangible to each as if it were a rope physically attaching them together. It had come in handy several times in the past and was no different this time.

As if seeing a luminous cord leading away from him, Ellison knew where his partner had been thrown and also that the younger man was not hurt too seriously. Calmly, he opened his eyes and started trotting in the direction he knew Sandburg lay.

Blair opened his eyes, expecting to see a blazing building in front of him. He also had expected to be in some pretty decent pain from being knocked off his feet by the explosion. But what was before his eyes was nothing he expected and his body felt no pain. It was like it was numb. Taking a deep breath, he carefully stood up and slowly spun in a circle to search for the one person he expected to see upon waking.

"Jim?" he called to the foggy haze surrounding him. It was not dark, but neither was it light. He seemed to be standing in a fog, but it didn't have the damp, chilly feel of one. "JIM!"

"Relax, Blair. Your friend is not here, but he is safe," a calm voice said from behind him.

Whirling around, Blair found himself facing the one person he had never thought to see again: George Tallman. The main reason was because the man was dead. Tallman, a Washington State University professor that had been visiting Rainier University last year, was killed by his student assistant during a case that had almost cost both Sandburg and Ellison their lives.

Sandburg stumbled back a few steps from the specter, his arms raised as if to prevent the other from approaching. "Whoa! You're...aren't you dead?" The tall, Native American smiled and nodded his head slightly.

"Oh, man, the explosion," Blair moaned to himself. Running his hands through his hair, he brushed the short locks back from his face and started pacing in a small circle. "I guess this means I'm dead, too. Damn it! After all that I've been through and survived, a simple arson case takes me out. Wait! Who's going to take care of Jim?"

A throaty chuckle coming from Tallman interrupted Sandburg's frantic and vocal thoughts, causing him to halt his movements. Looking towards the professor, he saw the man sitting comfortably on what looked to be a stone bench that hadn't been there before. Tallman patted the area beside him. Hesitantly, Blair walked over to the bench and gingerly sat down as far from the smiling man as the seat allowed.

"You are not dead, only unconscious. You were close enough to the explosion to be slightly injured and it put you into a state that has given me the opportunity I need to speak with you."

"Why? Is there something you didn't get to do while you were alive? Is there something you need help in accomplishing? We tried to return your staff to your family, but they--"

Lifting a hand to stop the distraught words tumbling from the young man's mouth, Tallman waited until Blair fell into an uneasy silence. "Please, you will wake up soon and I must talk to you now. First, the staff is yours to keep. Second, too long you have waited to get the necessary training to fulfill your role as Shaman to your Sentinel. Why have you not gone to your teacher?"

"Training? Teacher? I'm not a student any more, professor. My paper is history. I've been expelled from the university and any future class work will be for my job as a detective. I've been busy, what with having to go through the police academy and now that I'm on probation for a year, I don't really have time to go away for any length of time..." At the frown that appeared on the professor's face, Blair's voice again faltered.

"You do not understand how important it is to get control over your abilities. Already, the warning signs are appearing and I can see the danger lurking in your spirit. Without the proper training, you will become unstable, which will make you dangerous to your Sentinel and the tribe." Tallman stood up and started walking away into the mist. "You must find your teacher."

"Wait!" Blair stood up and called out to the retreating figure as the mist began to swirl more thickly. When the man turned back to look at him, Blair gave Tallman an entreating gesture. "What teacher are you talking about? Where do I find him?"

A flicker of sadness crossed the Native American's face, but quickly disappeared. "You were ready last year and it was to have been me, had not the spirits decided that my time had come to cross over. Now you must go out and search for another as soon as possible. Beware of those who can see your power and want to use it or take it for themselves. Use your spirit guide. Trust in him to lead you correctly."

Blair tried to step closer to the older man, but found himself strangely unable to move. The pain he felt he should have had upon awakening was making itself known throughout his body and his head was starting to pound. The mist was growing thicker, Tallman was fading from his sight and warmth started radiating up from his right hand until he felt like he was being enveloped in a soft, warm blanket. Confused, he looked down to see himself fading. He glanced back up towards the professor.

"Our time here is over. Find your teacher, Blair. Before it is too late, find your teacher." With those last words, Tallman disappeared and the area around Sandburg quickly darkened down to nothingness.

"I found him!" Ellison shouted to the searching detectives when he reached a pile of debris and saw an arm covered with a familiar coat sleeve jutting from underneath. Pushing off pieces of shattered crating, metal and plywood, he carefully uncovered the still body of his partner lying face down on the concrete. Even though he knew the younger man was alive, Jim gently clasped the scraped hand and felt for a pulse. It was strong and steady.

"Sandburg? Can you hear me, Chief?" Carefully, Jim checked along Blair's extremities for any cuts or injuries. Nothing was broken that he could tell, but there was evidence of cuts and abrasions from being thrown by the blast. He felt up the still man's spine and neck for damage and, after determining there wasn't any, Jim knelt down, carefully rolled Blair over and pulled him gently up into his arms. The young man moaned softly at the movement and his eyelids fluttered, trying to open.

"Find...teacher," Blair mumbled softly as his eyes gave up their struggle and closed back down completely. Sentinel soft, he whispered again, "Must find teacher."

Feeling around the hairline and through the tangled curls, Ellison found a swelling behind Sandburg's left ear, probably caused by a piece of the flying debris, and another on the forehead from impacting the ground. "You with me here, Chief? I need you to wake up."

Blair finally was able to open his eyes, but quickly closed them again with a groan and pulled his left arm up to cover them. A stabbing pain had appeared behind his eyes then flooded up across his forehead to throb throughout his head.

"He gonna need an ambulance, Jim?" Brown asked, kneeling down next to the two men. Rafe and Connor were bending over on the other side, their expressions identical masks of concern.

"I don't think that's necessary, H. Let's see if we can get him up and over to the truck. I'll take him to the hospital if you'll wait around for the fire department and forensics." Turning his attention back to his partner, Ellison gently pulled Sandburg's arm away from his face and placed it carefully down on the prone man's chest. "What do you say, Chief? Think you can make it to the truck so we can take you to your favorite place?"

Blinking up at the faces looking at him, Blair suddenly realized what was asked of him and groaned. "Ah, crap. Not the hospital, Jim."

"Oh yeah, buddy. The nurses have probably been worried that you've finally given up on them. Don't you want to check out the new ones?"

"Jim, I don't need to go to the hospital. Yeah, I've got a slight headache, but it can't be that bad if you are willing to take--"

"Uh, uh. There are a couple of bumps on your head, you were unconscious and mumbling about finding a teacher. That's an automatic trip to the emergency room. Give me a hand, fellas," Ellison said to Brown and Rafe as he slowly helped Sandburg sit up. The two detectives each grasp an arm and assisted in getting Blair to his feet. The smaller man swayed slightly until Jim pulled him into his body, arm wrapped around his shoulders, and started walking towards the truck.

Connor was waiting at the vehicle with the passenger door open. With a nod of thanks, Ellison carefully shifted Sandburg around, helped him into the cab then pulled the seatbelt across to secure it firmly.

"I'll follow in my car, Jim," Megan offered, watching Blair lean his head back against the rear window of the truck and close his eyes. When Jim closed the door, she turned her attention to the taller detective.

"It's not necessary, Connor. We'll probably be a couple of hours and someone will need to brief the captain when he shows up and let him know where we went."

"The other two can do that. I'd like to be there with you in case you...I forget what Sandy calls it, but I can help if it happens."

With a restrained sigh of frustration, Ellison halted his movement to his side of the truck and gave his full attention to the Inspector. "Connor, it's called a zone-out and that's not going to happen because I'm going to be with Sandburg. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get my partner to the hospital so he can be checked out."

Stepping into the cab of his truck, Ellison slammed the door closed and started the engine. Quickly pulling away from the stunned woman, he glanced in the mirror briefly and saw that she still stood in the road, watching them.

"She was only trying to help, Jim," Blair voiced quietly.

Looking over at his partner, Jim saw that Blair had slumped down, his head now resting against the back of the seat. His eyes, however, were still shut. "I know, Chief. But she hovers around us like--"

"Like someone who is genuinely interested in learning how something works. She asked me if I wanted her to keep an eye on you while I was at the academy." Blair lifted his head and, looking over at his friend, saw the sharp look sent back toward him before he lay back down. "She accepts what you can do even better than Simon."

Ellison didn't comment. Thinking back, he suddenly realized that the Australian Inspector had worked with him on the different cases that had come up during the time Sandburg had been gone. But he had just passed it off since they had been paired together before. She was also the only member of the Major Crime detectives who knew about his abilities and hadn't cracked jokes about his 'super' senses. He'd have to talk to her.

As if knowing what was going through Jim's mind, Blair reached across and patted the other's shoulder. No words were needed between the two to explain what the next course of action would be. Both continued the silence for the rest of the trip to the hospital.

Cascade General Hospital Early Thursday Morning

Captain Simon Banks strode purposely through the doors that had opened automatically for him as he approached the emergency room entrance. He had a personal policy of checking up on any of his people injured during the course of an investigation as soon as he could. Unfortunately, traveling to the hospital for either Ellison or Sandburg seemed to occur more times than he wanted to think about -- especially since it had been more for the latter.

Reaching the waiting area, he didn't see his senior detective. That normally meant that the junior detective of the team wasn't that seriously hurt. The doctors had always kept Ellison out of the treatment rooms when Sandburg's injuries were severe. That knowledge alone eased Banks' tension.

Glancing around the unnaturally quiet emergency area, Banks searched for a member of the hospital staff that could point him to where his people were being treated. Just as he was about to call out for assistance, he spotted Ellison coming off the elevator carrying two steaming cups.

"Jim? What happened? Where's Sandburg?"

"Evening, Captain. I'm doing fine, thank you for asking." Ellison gave his captain a sugary grin, then took a quick drink of his coffee to keep from chuckling at the look of exasperation on the other's face.

"It's morning and you're a smartass, Ellison. I knew you'd be okay with that rock you call a head sitting on your shoulders. Brown said that your partner had suffered the damage from the explosion. Now, do you want to tell me what happened at the warehouse here or meet me in my office to give me the report first thing in the morning. Which by the way," Banks looked at his watch, "is in about 4 hours."

Ellison swallowed his mouthful of coffee with a choking cough. With a jerk of his head, indicating that his Captain should follow him, Jim walked in the direction of the emergency waiting area. He struggled to catch his breath, control the coughing and not spill the hot liquid in the cups he was holding.

"Sorry, sir," he finally said when he could speak. "Sandburg's down the hall. We're just waiting for the x-rays that were taken, so I went to get us something to drink. The doctor doesn't think he has anything seriously wrong, but they just want to be sure. We were both knocked unconscious by the explosion, but Blair was out a little longer and was mumbling weird stuff when he woke up."

The two men entered the empty waiting area and took chairs near the entrance. Banks waited while Ellison took another drink from his cup. But before the detective could begin speaking, he was startled by a couple of resounding sneezes.

"Sorry." Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, Ellison made a quick wipe of his nose. He ignored the look his captain gave him. "Sandburg had spotted a light in the warehouse. When we went in to investigate, who ever it was had already prepped the place to go up. They threw a Molotov cocktail through a window at the back of the building. We were just able to get out when the fire spread to some chemical canisters that had to have been planted there. I take it you've seen what's left of the building."

"Not much is standing. How is it that Sandburg saw the arsonist before you did? Should I consider your reddening nose and those sneezes as clues?" Banks fixed the other with a stern look and was rewarded with obvious squirming.

"It's nothing, Captain. The weather's changing and I've just developed a little sinus trouble. But I promise that I won't take any..." Ellison's voice trailed off and his eyes took on a glassy stare.

"Jim?" Banks reached an arm forward and firmly grasped the other's upper arm, giving it a slight shake. There wasn't any reaction. "Jim. Come out of it, man. What's going on? Christ, is this one of those zone-outs? JIM!"

Banks moved carefully out of his chair and squatted down in front of Ellison, taking hold of both shoulders. He was about to get more physical when the other's eyes widened in fright, then clenched shut in pain.

Jim had been keeping a small part of his mind monitoring his bond to Blair when he felt that connection fading out. It was similar to a dimmer switch on a chandelier, with the light being slowly turned down. His concentration on the dwindling connection is what Simon had thought to be the zone-out.

Jerking out of his captain's hold, Ellison stood up abruptly and quickly moved back into the emergency room. He vaguely heard Banks call his name, but his attention was focused on the room where he knew his partner was being treated. Opening his hearing and directing it to the room, he could hear the doctor speaking to Sandburg.

"How long have you had the headaches, Mr. Sandburg? Have they been as bad as the one you're experiencing now?"

Jim was just opening the door when he heard Blair answer. The tremor in the voice belied the words that were spoken.

"I was knocked several feet by an explosion, Doc. I think a headache is an expected result." Blair tried to give a chuckle, but it ended up as a groan as a sharp pain radiated across his forehead. He brought an arm up to cover his eyes. "As for the others, they haven't been bad. I'm probably catching my partner's cold. Can you give me something to make this one go away? It's upsetting my stomach."

"Let me go get something that should help," the doctor answered and turned to see his patient's partner standing in the open doorway. The young physician was much shorter than the imposing, blue-eyed man. A taller, black man stood behind him, mirroring the expression of concern on Ellison's face. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes, so I want you to rest quietly." Giving the two, tall men a stern gaze that told them to make sure they didn't upset his patient, the doctor exited.

"Hey, Chief. How're you doing?" Ellison asked quietly, stepping up to where his friend lay.

"Well, my brains are still in one piece...contrary to the rumor that they had gotten sucked out at the academy." Blair brought down his arm and gave Jim a lop-sided grin. The pain of his headache could be seen clouding his deep, blue eyes. "As far as the doctor can tell from the x- rays, there's nothing wrong and I can get out of here. What's the matter, Jim? You're looking at me like I grew an extra eye."

Ellison stepped closer to the bed in order to speak more privately. "What just happened a couple of minutes ago, Blair?"

"Nothing. Well, my headache spiked for a few seconds, but other than that I've just been lying here. Hey, Captain."

"Sandburg. I'd like to know what happened, too." Banks gave Ellison a sidelong glare as he moved to the other side of the gurney. "Your partner just about gave me a heart attack by going into a zone-out in the lobby."

"What?!" Blair struggled to sit up, but was pushed back down by Jim. "You haven't zoned in ages, Jim. What happened?"

Looking first at Simon, Jim took a deep breath, ran a hand back through his hair then turned his attention back to Blair. "I was sort of keeping a light touch on our, uh, connection. All of a sudden, it faded down almost to nothing. When I concentrated harder, it just...flickered out briefly. Then, just as quickly, it flared back up and blazed like a Roman candle before it went back to normal."

Blair stared up at his friend in shock and again struggled to sit up. The movement caused him to wince in pain. "I swear I haven't been hiding anything from you, Jim. I wasn't shutting down or anything, man. We talked about that and I wouldn't break--"

Ellison grabbed the smaller man's shoulders and gently pushed him back down flat onto the gurney. "I know, Chief. Calm down. I'm not accusing you of anything. It just wasn't something I expected to happen."

"Would one of you explain to me what you are talking about? Connection?" Simon's questions reminded the other two that there was an observer in the room and halted their conversation. The tone of the captain's voice and the look he gave them indicated that he wouldn't accept any fanciful explanation.

Before either was able to start talking, the doctor reentered the room. "I'm only going to give you a light pain reliever for now, Mr. Sandburg. I've also written a prescription for Tylenol 3. It should only be taken every four hours as needed. Even though the x-rays didn't show anything, I'm not convinced that there couldn't be something more serious. If your headaches continue or get worse in 24 to 36 hours, I want you back in here for a CAT scan. Do you understand?" The physician started to hand Blair the prescription, but was intercepted by Jim.

"I'll take care of that for him, doctor. He has a habit of not getting prescriptions filled or following their directions," Jim related, reading the name of the drug and ignoring the glare being directed towards him by his partner. "Is it okay for me to take him home?"

"I don't think there is anything else we can do for now. However, if you can convince him to stay for observation..."

"That's not necessary," Blair voiced quickly and successfully sat up. "I'll make sure that I take it easy. If you'll just tell me what they did with my coat, I'll free up your room."

With a sigh and a shake of his head, the doctor pointed to a table off to the side and again exited the room. "Paperwork will be at the front desk," he mumbled as he again exited the room.

Shifting off the gurney, Blair walked to where the doctor indicated. As he pulled his coat on, he turned around to see two pairs of eyes watching him. "What? You heard the man. I can leave and I think we should take the conversation you both want to have to a more private place than this. Okay?"

"I'll be at your place as soon as I check back with the others at the scene. I expect there to be a pot of strong coffee and a good explanation waiting, since I probably won't get any more sleep tonight," Simon growled and followed after the doctor.

"Let's go, Chief. You heard our marching orders. I don't think Simon will buy one of your more colorful lies this time."

"Not lies, Jim. Obfuscations, remember? Lies hurt and..."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember your whole explanation on the subject. Despite the fact that it's Simon we're talking about here, I'm not too happy with telling someone else about our bond." Ellison held the door of the treatment room open to allow his friend to exit first. Sandburg could see the frown the man's face displayed.

"Frankly, I think it's probably time he knows the whole story. He should be the one if anyone, Jim. Simon was there with us. And as much as he has seen, I don't think it'll be so hard to accept our bond." Blair gave Jim a trusting look as the two exited the hospital and walked towards the truck.

"I hope you're right, Chief."

852 Prospect Later that Morning

"You have a psychic connection to each other?" Banks voice was raised and an incredulous look covered his face.

At first he had sat and listened to Sandburg, with minor comments from Ellison, as he carefully explain the whole process that had bonded the two in the Temple of the Sentinel in Peru. As the young man continued, he also explained how the bond had helped the two: in saving Ellison's life at the Native American burial site, helping monitor Sandburg's injuries during the attempted terrorist attack at the university and their ill-fated trip to Colorado to attend a friend's funeral. But with each incident brought up and the growth of the bond between the two, Banks eyebrows continued to rise towards his hairline.

"Well, sir...it's not quite what you would call a 'psychic' connection. It's more like..." Jim looked at Blair for help.

Blair took up the explanation, unconsciously switching to the mode he had used when he was a teaching fellow at Rainier University. "Like an empathic connection. Jim and I can 'feel' if the other is hurt and even be able to track each other. But we can't communicate through it. At least we haven't so far, but--"

"Hold it! Too much information for this time in the morning." Banks removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Seeing the pained expression on his supervisor's face, Ellison stood up, retrieved the coffeepot and refilled all the mugs on the table. Banks gave the man a grateful nod and took a careful sip before he continued. "So...what you were talking to Sandburg about at the hospital has to do with this bond thing you two have?"

"Yes, sir. It's become an unconscious thing for me to keep tabs on him. I just know how he is and where he is, generally. In the emergency room, it started to fade out. So, I concentrated harder to find it and that's when you thought I had zoned."

"And you have a way to shut Jim out?" This was directed at Blair, who had the good graces to look a little embarrassed.

"I...have. But I didn't today. Frankly, I don't keep such a close handle on it like Jim does. But I swear I didn't even know anything was happening. My head was hurting too much." Blair rubbed at his temples.

Seeing the gesture, Ellison reached over, pulled one of the hands away and asked, "Sandburg? What did the doctor mean when he asked if this one had been as bad as the others had? What others?"

"Oh, that?"

"Yeah, that. How long have you been having headaches?"

"Not long." Blair's voice dropped along with his eyes towards his coffee mug. "Come on, Jim. You heard the doctor say that my pictures didn't show anything physical, so it's probably been because of the job. You know I haven't been able to take any time off since getting back."

"The fact that you've done nothing for it is what I'm talking about, Chief."

"Oh, looks who's talking. What have you done about that cold you've had bothering you for the last week?"

"My minor sinus problem is nothing but that -- minor. Whatever happened at--"

"Fellas!" Simon exclaimed holding up his hands. Surprised, the other two quieted. "Let's get back to the subject. Jim, that was a hairy little episode I witnessed and you were pretty much out of it for a minute. How is this bond thing now?"

Ellison closed his eyes and easily found the bond. The thick, bright cord led directly to Sandburg sitting across from him. "It's there, strong as ever."

"Do you think this will happen again?"

"I don't know, Simon. It might've been the tossing around that he got from the explosion that caused it in the first place. Right Chief? Chief?"

Jim's question brought Blair out of the mini zone he had drifted into. "Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just trying to remember something from last night."

"You mean during the stakeout?"

"No. It was after the explosion. I thought I had woken up some place different, but it's all fuzzy now. I wasn't at the warehouse and someone was there talking to me." Blair ran his hands through his hair, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. "He was telling me something I... I think was important."

"You were mumbling something about finding a teacher." Jim leaned forward, his voice dropping in tone.

Blair looked into the trusting eyes of his friend. He could see the other almost willing him to remember. ~sigh~ "I'm sorry, Jim. I just can't get my brain to function."

"And it has in the past?" Simon's quip had the desired effect causing a small smile to flicker across Blair's face. "Is there any way you can get some help in case this prob--" Banks started to ask then slapped his forehead. "What am I talking about? I've got two detectives who tell me they have a mental bond, which by the way is going on the fritz, and can tell where the other is and in what condition. Who would you call for something like this? Psychics 'R Us?"

"The only person I can think of is dead." Jim didn't have to say the name of the first mentor of his sentinel abilities. The three also knew that the Chopec shaman's spirit was released when they had traveled down to Peru over a year ago. "Other than him, I don't know." Blair just shook his head and slumped back in his chair.

"Well, if you two are okay for now, I'm going to head into the precinct. You're both off for 24 hours, sick leave, but I want to see your report on my desk no later than 10:00 tomorrow morning." Draining his cup, Simon stood up, took it into the kitchen then returned for his coat draped off the back of his chair.

"Thanks, Captain. We'll have it ready." Ellison escorted his superior to the door, opening the wooden portal to allow the man to leave. Once he had closed it and secured the locks, Jim turned back around to scrutinize Blair. The young man was leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"You sure you're okay, Chief?"

Blair brought his gaze back down to rest on his roommate. "Yeah, man. Just a little tired. The last few hours are starting to catch up with me."

''I want you to take one of these painkillers the doctor prescribed and head for bed. No argument." Ellison pulled the pill container out of his pocket and tossed the packet to Sandburg. The older man could see the headache the other was suffering with and wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be any problem sleeping. "I'm heading up to my room to get some sleep, too."

Blair juggled the packet before he got a firm hold on it. Reading the dosage, he decided not to argue. The dosage shouldn't be enough to knock him out, just blunt the persistent ache echoing around his head. "No prob. I want to make sure I get plenty of rest before my date tomorrow night."

"Anyone I know?"

"I doubt it. Shelly is intelligent, as well as beautiful, and can conduct an in-depth conversation on several subjects." Blair commented with a straight face as he stood up and started walking towards the bathroom. Stopping at the door, he looked back at Jim with a twinkle in his eyes. "Definitely not the type of woman you tend to date."

"I wouldn't talk if I were you, Junior. You seem to forget that I've seen the women you've dated over the last four years and your record hasn't been much better. Do you really want to go there?" Ellison gave his friend a pointed look as he walked toward the stairs that led up to his room.

Blair smiled, walked into the bathroom and shut the door. "But at least I try to date a variety of women and not look for the same type every time, man."

The comment was made at a level that was loud enough only for Jim's special hearing to pick up. He snorted, called out "NOT," then continued up the stairs, hearing soft laughter coming from the bathroom. Everything seemed back to normal.

At the Loft, Late Friday Afternoon

A flurry of footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and down the hall. The sound of a key being thrust forcefully into the lock quickly followed.

"Late, late, late," Blair voiced breathlessly as he entered the loft and tossed his keys into the basket on the table next to the door. Not bothering to close the door behind him, knowing that Jim was not that far behind, Blair fled to his room.

Pulling his service revolver out of his backpack before dropping the bag on the floor, Blair placed it on table he used as a desk. The job required that he have his weapon with him, despite his personal beliefs concerning firearms. But, after discussing the subject at length with both his partner and captain, he conceded that he would carry the pistol -- in his backpack. It would still be with him while on duty and accessible if the occasion ever arose for him to use it. Blair frequently said a prayer of thanks each night he came home without having to use it. Beside the weapon, he placed his badge, loose change, then started to undress. He barely heard the firm closing of the loft door.

"Sandburg, it wasn't my fault that we got caught in a traffic jam," Ellison called into the loft as he engaged the locks. Removing his jacket, he hung the garment on a hook beside the door and wandered toward the kitchen. On the way, he took off his holster holding his weapon, then set the whole thing on the edge of the counter. Continuing on, he retrieved a cold beer from the refrigerator, then walked into the living room and plopped down onto the couch.

"I know, Jim. It's just that it would be tonight that the uniforms decided to do an alcohol check. I mean, it was early. No one has had time to drink enough to be impaired," Blair complained. Flying out of his room he carried his sneakers over to the door and set them under the coats. Grabbing up his good hikers, he moved into the living room and sat across from his friend.

Jim saw the expression on Blair's face and had to comment, "Are you nervous about this date?" His question caused the young man to freeze and look up from putting on his boots. "If I didn't know any better, you're acting like a teenager on his first date."

An embarrassed grin appeared and Blair ducked his head back toward his shoes. "Well, it's our first real date. We've been e-mailing for a couple of weeks after I answered her ad and had only met for coffee last Wednesday."

"You found her in a personal ad?" The incredulous tone could be clearly heard in Jim's voice.

"It was on the Internet. What's wrong with that?"

"Does the phrase 'closet, homicidal maniac' mean anything to you? Just last week, they busted another pedophile using those services. With your luck, aren't you pushing it?"

Finishing with his shoes, Blair turned his whole attention to his concerned friend. "Don't worry, Dad. I was able to get some background on her since she works in the courthouse. She's a paralegal brought in with the new DA and I have it on good authority that she's not the daughter of a gunrunner or the former girlfriend of a drug lord. Okay?"

Jim grimaced at the references to two women Blair had gotten involved with in the past that had almost caused his death each time. One relationship was at the older man's request to assist with a case he had been working. Maya had not only broken Blair's heart once, but twice. But before Jim could defend his statement, Blair jumped up from the loveseat, gave him a quick slap on the shoulder in passing and rushed back towards his room.

"I know what you're saying and I appreciate the concern, Jim. I'll be careful and keep my cell phone handy at all times. We're just going over to that new Mall area at Market and Cummings and then to get something to eat. Shelly's also into antiques and old bookstores. Maybe I should wear the blue shirt tonight." The last statement from Blair was obviously a comment to himself.

With a sigh, Jim took a long pull from his beer, struggled back to his feet and started up the stairs to his room. He didn't know why he felt apprehensive about his partner going out on a date. Am I jealous? Jim hadn't been involved with a woman for a couple of weeks, but he didn't think that was the reason for his uneasiness. Maybe it's because of the accident earlier this week. Blair had been pretty incoherent when I had found him in the rubble. And then having the bond fade out...Stop it, Ellison! You are acting ridiculous, he told himself, then started to change his clothes. He deliberately closed down his hearing so that he wouldn't hear Blair talk to himself.

Changing into his third shirt in 10 minutes, Blair finally felt satisfied with his appearance. He wore a multi-colored shirt of earth tones with a Navaho design, a pair of black jeans and his new brown and black hiking boots. He had a thick, warm cardigan to throw around him since the temp tended to get a little cool at night this time of the year.

Giving one last glance in the mirror, he raised a hand to rub at his temple. Another headache had been growing behind his eyes, but he didn't want to use the painkillers the hospital had given him. Even for a mild dose, Blair had slept heavily after taking just one and felt druggy for part of the day. With a final rub and a shake of his head to clear it, Blair stepped out of his room.

Heading for the front door, Blair saw a flicker of movement near the stairs from the corner of his eye. Turning in that direction, he froze at the sight of a large, black jaguar lounging next to the bottom step. It was Jim's spirit animal! He had never made itself visible to Blair before. The cat seemed to be staring at him intently.

When Blair started to walk towards it, the feline shifted its body until it was in a crouched down position, its long, fluid tail swishing back and forth angrily. A low rumbling growl emanating from the animal's throat caused Blair to hesitate in his action. When he started forward again, the jaguar flattened its ears back and hissed. It dug its claws into the rug underneath it.

"Whoa there, big guy," Blair murmured in a tone similar to what he used with Jim when trying to help him control his senses. "What's the matter? You know who I am, don't you?"

The spirit animal hissed and growled again, then crawled forward a couple of inches. Blair stopped in his tracks and stared at the menacing animal facing him. Although this was the first time he had personally seen the animal, not counting at the Temple of the Sentinel last year, Blair could not understand why the cat was behaving this way. He was about to call out to Jim when the jaguar vanished. Simultaneously, the headache Blair had been sporting since arriving at the loft faded out.

Rubbing his eyes, he gazed around the loft, looking for the large, black cat, but it had completely disappeared. "Man, what is going on?" he asked himself. With a shake of his head, he glanced down at his watch. Seeing the time, he spun around quickly, grabbed his keys from the basket and hustled out of the loft. Memory of the incident, and any consideration of discussing it with Jim, faded to the back part of Blair's mind and thoughts of his plans for the evening came to the forefront.

Market Street Mall That Evening

"So that's how I ended up here in Cascade. After spending so much of my life in Indiana, can you blame me for wanting to find a place that had mountains or the ocean within easy driving distance?"

Blair smiled and gave a chuckle at the tone his companion used. He was really enjoying his date with Shelly Bartlett. The blond woman stood slightly shorter than Blair when barefoot and had thankfully wore low-heeled shoes that made her stand only slightly taller than he did. She also seemed to have the same capacity for being verbose; he had only to ask a leading question and the woman would give him a very thorough answer.

"So, Blair. If you are finished 'interrogating' me, I'd like to know a little more about you. That is, unless you've got some secret that would be dangerous for me to learn." The sparkle in Shelly's eye and the quirky smile that hovered over her lips belied the seriousness of her tone.

Blair froze for a second before he answered. He's expected the question, but not the statement afterwards. "Dangerous? Me? I'm just a poor working servant of the city. How can I possibly have any dangerous secrets about me?" He turned his most engaging smile towards his date, then guided her towards a series of brick businesses. A few sported signs indicating that they were having grand opening sales. "Here's that bookstore I was telling you about."

The unobtrusive looking building had an old-fashioned sign over the door indicting that it was called The Medicine Man's Corner. Blair had seen an advertisement for the store and was immediately caught by the name. It was a paraphrase of the word shaman and Blair had made it a habit of checking out anything that touched on that topic. Ever since becoming the Shaman of his Sentinel, he tried to find any information that might relate to it. No matter how vague.

"Let's go in, Blair. I've been trying to find this old tome on card reading using a plain deck of cards. The only type that other stores carry has to do with using tarot decks." Shelly was already moving towards the door, but turned back towards her date. "Please?"

"Are you into card reading and the mystics?"

Shelly blushed lightly with embarrassment. "Well..."

With a laugh, Blair followed. "Okay. You twisted my arm."

The interior of the shop was lit with soft lights, Tiffany lamps positioned strategically to give off warm glows into the darkest corner. A strange, spicy scent also seemed to permeate throughout the room, taking away the musty odor that was always present with old books.

Shelly wandered over to the shelves on the right side of the shop, the sign hanging from the ceiling indicating that the books concerned fortune telling. Blair was about to follow when a word in the title of a book to the left caught his eye. It was 'shaman.' Moving closer, he saw that it was a book he had checked out from the Rainier library a long time ago: "The Way of the Shaman." It had been before he, Jim and Simon had traveled down to Peru.

Blair was reaching for another book in the same area when he was startled by a soft, British accented voice.

"You have a need, young sir."

Jerking back, Blair saw the owner of the voice. The man, obviously the owner of the shop, was slightly taller than he, with short, raven colored hair that was swept severely back from his face. Silver strands peppered through the dark locks giving the man a regal and mature appearance.

"I apologize for startling you. I am Basil Westerly, owner of this establishment. When I felt you enter the shop, I had to come over."

"No, it's all right. I just wasn't expecting...you felt me enter the shop?" Blair took a short step back from the proprietor, uncertain of the feelings he was experiencing about the man.

Westerly stepped closer. "Yes, you have this marvelous energy about you that just charged the air. Surely others have told you about this. The aura you project is something that I haven't seen in a very long time."

Blair began to feel very uncomfortable, the man's intense gaze stabbed at his eyes. He felt as if he was falling into the hazel orbs that had him trapped. Taking another step back and bumping into the table behind him, Blair gave a nervous laugh. "Thank you, I think. My mother used to bring up the subject but, uh, she always seemed to see things more different... than... others." Blair was beginning to feel dizzy. He didn't know if it was because of Westerly's unwavering attention or from the incense that seemed to be getting stronger. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard the whining of a dog.

"I can see that you are untrained on the ability that is with in you, my friend. Why don't you--" Westerly was interrupted by a crash from another area of the shop. Turning sharply around to see who had broken his concentration, he saw a shamed-faced older man picking up several books.

"I'm so sorry," the man apologized. "I guess I was trying to hold more than my hands could accommodate. I don't think they are damaged any. I'll pay for any that are." The man gave Blair a sharp look and jerked his head in the direction of the door when Westerly's attention was on the books.

Shaking himself alert, Blair saw the glance by the other patron, shifted himself away from Westerly and stepped quickly towards the front door. "I...really don't have time tonight, Mr. uh, Westerly. Maybe sometime later. Shelly? You ready to go get something to eat?" he called towards his date. She had wandered in the direction of the noise and had been watching the proceedings.

Placing the book she had been looking at down on a nearby table, Shelly skirted around the commotion to meet up with Blair at the door. "You have a lovely shop here," she voiced kindly as Blair led her out the door. The couple walked purposefully down the street and away from the shop.

"I'm so sorry, old man," the customer spoke to Westerly, drawing his attention back from the departing pair. He towered over the shop owner and used his stature to capture the man's attention. "I hope I didn't scare off a sale."

Waving his hand negligently, Westerly turned back to the older man and the books he held. "No, I...no. Are you interested in any of these?"

"I've got to check with my partner to see if she already has any of these. We will be back, though." Handing over the two books he held, the man gave Westerly a jaunty smile, walked out the door and quickly strode over to the woman coming around the corner of the building. She stood as tall as her friend did but, because there wasn't any silvering in her deep red mane, she appeared to be younger.

"Well, Douglas?" she questioned, her attention searching around the area. "Is it who I think it is?"

"You pegged it right. It's the same guy from California. He didn't recognize me, though. Also, I did witness a very strange incident in the shop. That kid there wandered in and you would have thought he was a crowned prince or something by the way Westerly was all over him." The older man gestured in the direction that Blair and Shelly had gone, pointing them out just before they had entered another building. "He didn't seem to know why Westerly was interested in him. Roni?"

"Good Lord, Doug! Who is that?" The woman strode down the sidewalk and stopped only when she was at the edge of the building that Blair had disappeared. It was an Italian restaurant. She peered carefully into the window. "He glows so bright he's almost blinding. No wonder Basil was all over him."

"What'll we do, kiddo?" Doug asked, placing himself in position to watch the other's back. "The kid acted like he didn't have a clue why he was questioned about his aura."

"Damn! I'm not up for this. Not after the last one." Roni sighed and stepped back from the window. "Oh well, I guess I don't have a choice. Follow him when he leaves and see if you can find out where he lives, maybe a name if it's possible. I'd better go back to our place and get some rest. I'm probably going to need lots of energy with this one."

The woman took one more glance at the unknowing Blair sitting in the restaurant with his date. He was laughing at something the young woman had said as he unwrapped his silverware from its napkin. Turning back to her male companion, she gave him a quick kiss and walked back in the direction they had come.

Sunday Afternoon

"Captain? Yeah, well I thought I better call you to let you know that Jim is down for the count. I think we're going to be needing someone to replace us on the stakeout tonight."

"What do you mean 'down for the count?' He's ill?"

"Yes, sir. His head is full, eyes are watering and he's got a cough that would wake the dead. I tried to get him to take something for it last week, before it got too bad, but--"

"That same crap you got him to take the last time? Sandburg, it had an illegal substance in it."

"Peyote is not really illegal, sir. It's a controlled substance that Native Americans use mainly in their religious ceremonies, but the amount that was in the medicine is too minute to make a difference. It did help him get over the head cold."

"And claim he was seeing a ghost. ~sigh~ Okay, just keep him down and see if you can get him well enough for tomorrow night. I can only let you off for tonight. I'll see if we can borrow someone from another department."

"Thanks, Simon. If I'm lucky, he'll sleep through to tomorrow morning and I won't have to put up with his grouchy complaints. If not, we do have copiers of all the other fires that we can study." Blair heard an evil chuckle come through the telephone receiver.

"Paybacks are a bitch, kid. I've heard about your last episode of the flu. Talk to you later."

Before Blair could reply, there was a click through the receiver and the line went dead. "I wasn't that bad when I was sick."

"You wanna make a bet on that, Chief?" Jim's voice floated down from the upper floor of the loft.

Blair turned from the phone and saw his roommate slowly making his way down the stairs. The older man was wrapped tightly in his bathrobe, a wad of tissue in one hand and an empty glass in the other. He noisily blew into the tissue then gave a couple of coughs when he finally reached the landing and could safely lean against the wall.

"What are you doing up?" Blair asked, hurrying over to take the glass. "Bed rest is about the only thing you can do now that your illness is at this stage. I've got some chicken soup warming and was just about to bring you up a bowl."

"Bathroom, Sandburg. With as much fluid as you've been forcing down me, I'm about to float away. I'm seriously considering crashing on the couch. The trip to the bathroom will be shorter and I can watch some television instead of just lay in my bed and listen to my sinus drip." Ellison shuffled over to the bathroom and firmly shut the door after entering.

When he came out, he saw Sandburg adjusting a comforter and pillow on the couch. Smothering the smile that wanted to spread across his face, Ellison walked carefully into the living room area. He had snagged some fresh tissues before he had exited and was using them to cover his face. "You didn't have to do that, Chief."

"Hey, no problem. This will make it easier on me to make sure you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. A couple of Ibuprofen are on the table with another glass of cranapple juice. I'll get your soup if you're hungry." Blair pointed towards the coffee table as he helped his friend get comfortable.

"I'm not hungry, but I know I should probably eat something. Pills and an empty stomach don't do well together. What's the matter?" Ellison noticed Sandburg unconsciously rubbing his temples.

Blair quickly dropped his hand and looked up at this friend. "Huh? Oh, nothing. So you'll be okay here while I go up and strip your bed? I'm doing laundry anyway and it wouldn't hurt to get a clean set of sheets on your bed." Without waiting for an answer, Blair swung around the couch and climbed the stairs to Jim's bedroom.

Restraining his frustration over his friend's ability to divert conversations, Ellison leaned over and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table. Absently, he flipped through the channels until he came to a station broadcasting a football game.

The sporting event had Jim engrossed to the point that he almost missed seeing Blair come back down the stairs, linen in hand, and walk over to the balcony doors. The young man peered through the glass panes around the empty area before opening one of the doors. It was this action that finally caught Jim's attention.

"What's the matter, Chief?"

Wandering out onto the balcony, Blair called back over his shoulder, "Didn't you hear it?"

"Hear what? I've got the TV on."

"It sounds like a dog that was in trouble or hurt. It was whining. You didn't hear anything?" Blair looked back into the loft.

"I was watching the tube and my head is stuffy." Ellison pushed the mute button on the remote then cocked his head sideways to concentrate his hearing. "There's nothing there now, Chief."

Rubbing his forehead with a free hand, Blair wandered back into the living room. "I know I heard it. The animal was really close, too. Ah, maybe I'm just tired."

"Is that another headache or the continuation of an old one?" Ellison turned the television completely off to focus his whole attention on his roommate.

Blair tried to wave off the question, but caught Jim's expression. "Okay, so I've got a headache. It's not as bad as the one caused by the explosion, but it has made itself known to me today. You know, Jim, I'm probably coming down with whatever you got."

"Or you do have something wrong that was caused by the explosion. I think you need to go get it checked out. Tomorrow."

"Jim, it's nothing but a headache. I'll go grab a couple of Ibuprofen and I'll be fine. You're the one suffering and if I don't get moving on the laundry, you'll be sleeping there tonight. I'll get you a bowl of soup just as soon as I put the next load in." Moving quickly, Blair was able to get out of the loft before Jim could voice a protest.

Knowing the avoidance tactics of his partner, Ellison tuned his hearing towards the departing Sandburg. He also tapped into their bond, knowing that he could get at least some idea of his roommate's condition.

Swift, Sandburg. Why don't you paste a sign on your forehead that says 'I've got something wrong.' ~ sigh ~ I'm just catching what Jim has and he doesn't need to be worrying about me. A clanging sound of Blair opening the laundry room door caused Jim to flinch. I know you're listening to me, Ellison. I did hear that dog, too.

With a grunt of frustration, Ellison brought his hearing back into the room and turned the television back on. He knew that his friend would probably spend most of his time in the laundry room grousing about Jim's lack of cooperation, so it wouldn't do any good to listen any longer. Turning his attention to the game on the television, Jim tapped more firmly into his bond with Blair and kept a part of his mind monitoring the connection.

It was about 20 minutes later when he felt a fluttering along the bond. The sensation caught Jim's attention as quickly as if Blair had slapped him in the face. He was about to get off the couch and travel down to the laundry room when, similar to the episode in the hospital, the 'strength' of the connection began to fade. Unconsciously, Jim concentrated on the diminishing connection and became lost in his search.

Blair was coming up the stairs to the third floor when a sharp, stabbing pain flared in his head. It took him by surprise, causing him to stumble to his knees at the landing. Panting to catch his breath, Blair began to get a feeling that something was wrong and it wasn't just with him. Not knowing why, he felt for his bond with Jim and was shocked when he had to struggle to find it. The normally strong connection was faded and throbbed with a weak and unnatural rhythm, or lack of one from what he was used to.

Panic beginning to set in, Blair climbed back onto his feet and raced down the hall to the loft. "Jim?" he called out, throwing the door open with a crash.

The older man was sitting upright on the couch, half way turned towards the door. His face was frozen with a blank expression across his features. Blair started to trot towards his friend. but quickly stopped at the figure of a black jaguar stalking around the couch end. Its ears were lying back on its head and the intensity of its deep, yellow-green eyes was locked on Blair.

"Whoa, cat. I'm a friend," Blair calmly told the feline when it took up the position between him and the couch. The animal took two more steps towards Blair and gave a deep growl that ended in a sharp hiss. Blair brought up his hands to ward off the animosity being directed towards him. "Please, I've got to check on my friend. I'm not going to hurt him."

Blair's words seemed to anger the jaguar, a cry of denial followed with its tail swinging sharply back and forth. It began to crouch down in preparation to leap on the small man it was facing, when it halted. In front of Blair's frantic eyes, the image of his spirit animal began to take shape. The silver wolf appeared in front of him, its body in a guarding stance. It whined softly at the jaguar then lowered itself down into a position of submission.

Mollified, the black cat relaxed its stance, gave one more screaming cry and vanished. The wolf regained its footing and turned pain-filled eyes towards Blair.

"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" Blair asked taking a step forward. The animal continued to look at him then cringed at the same time that Blair felt a sharp pain reverb through his head. "It's me. I'm causing you pain." A look of sorrow flooded the wolf's eyes before he faded completely out.

The realization of what he had just experienced held Blair still until he remembered what had brought him back into the room. Running over to the couch, he knelt on the floor in front of Jim and gently placed his hands onto the other's forearms. Looking into the older man's eyes, Blair could see no sign of life.

"Jim? You need to listen to me. Hear my voice and let it bring you back. Come on, man." Blair quietly voiced the words, then raised one hand to his friend's face. "I don't know where you went to, but it's time to come back, Jim. Please."

Ellison's eyes closed and his head dropped to his chest as awareness flooded back. He felt the gentle touch of a hand along his jaw and recognized the soft words he was hearing. "Blair? What happened?" Opening his eyes, he saw the worried expression of his roommate.

Relaxing back until he was sitting completely on the floor, Blair dropped his head into his hands. "You were zoned. I think I caused it again, didn't I?"

"I...our connection started to fluctuate again. I was getting up to find you when it faded out again. What is going on, Chief?" Anger was creeping into Ellison's voice.

Raising anguished-filled eyes to his friend, Blair struggled to answer. Frustrated, he climbed to his feet and started to pace. "There's something wrong with me and before you suggest going to see a doctor, you need to hear me out 'cause it's not something he can handle. I've seen your animal guide twice now and each time has coincided with my headache going a little severe on me. Although, why I didn't see it in the hospital, I don't know. Anyway, I think it sees me as a threat to you 'cause each time it has appeared it has wanted to attack me."

"Why? You're my friend, my partner...my Shaman." Ellison spoke the last words quietly, as if he wasn't sure of what he was saying.

Blair continued to pace, his hands laced into his hair to hold it back. "The first two definitely. The last, well I'm not so sure. Yeah, Incacha passed me the way and our bonding in Peru confirmed our places with each other, but I can't really call myself a shaman since I'm not trained or even sure what it all entails. The stuff I've done has purely been by the seat of my pants, man." Blair's pacing took him once around the back of the couch then back towards the balcony doors.

"You're making me dizzy, Chief. Do you think you could sit down to talk to me? And what do you mean you can't call yourself a Shaman? What about what happened at the temple or at the burial site? How about when you helped me with my hangover?"

"I think we were both guided into what we needed to do at the temple. It was the area more than me doing anything. As for the burial site, Professor Tallman was there. Remember? I don't recall too much of what I did, but I think he was the main player in that scenario. And I almost lost myself trying to relieve you of your hangover. Or don't you remember the chewing out you gave me afterwards. I have no idea what I'm able to do or even how much I can do. I...I think I need some help here, Jim." Blair collapsed down onto the couch and pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees.

"The whining I heard is real, at least to me. It's my spirit animal. Your cat was about to take me out here just a bit ago and my wolf stepped in between us. It got yours to back down and then looked at me like I had just kicked it."

Shifting around until he was sitting more comfortably on the couch, Ellison cleared his throat to catch Sandburg's attention. "I don't know if it means anything, Chief, but you were talking about getting a teacher after the explosion. Well, it was actually mumbling, but twice you said you had to find a teacher."

"We've been over this, Jim. I can't remember--"

"Wait. Let me finish here. You always seem to be able to get me to remember things that were based on my subconscious picking it up. Why can't we try the same thing with you?"

"You mean try to get me to regress back to the explosion."

Ellison nodded, giving his friend a look of expectancy he hoped would be enough to convince him to try. "Just tell me what to do."

After searching Jim's face and finding nothing but sincerity, Blair gave a sigh and unfolded himself until he was resting comfortably on the couch. "Okay. I'll get myself set and what I need for you to do is talk me through the events of the other night. I know what to do, but it's easier to remember if someone else is doing the guiding."

Without another word, Blair relaxed, closed his eyes and began to take slow, deep breaths, holding them in for a couple of seconds then allowing the air to escape. Jim watched carefully, seeing the muscles in Blair's body relax further and the lines in his face smooth out.

"Okay, Chief. Let's see...I want you to think back to last Wednesday night. We were on the stakeout at the warehouse. Are you there?" After a minute, Blair mumbled an affirmative. "We're running out of the warehouse now and there was an explosion. It can't hurt you now, you're just remembering that it happened." Blair had jerked at the mention of the explosion and Jim knew he had to make sure his friend didn't actually re-experience the whole incident.

"You were knocked out by the explosion, but you said that you didn't wake up outside. Where are you?"

Several minutes passed before Blair's eyes finally opened, but they were unfocused, as if he was looking at things that we not actually there. "It's...foggy. I can't see the fire, the truck, or... Jim? Where are you?"

Blair tensed, struggled to rise, but was stopped by Jim's calm voice. "I'm not there, Chief, but it's okay. You're safe and nothing is going to hurt you. Is anyone with you there?"

"Yeah. It's Professor Tallman, but he's dead." A fleeting expression of fright passed over Blair's face but it quickly calmed. "He says he has something important to tell me."

"What is he saying?" Ellison coaxed when the silence seemed a little long.

"Why haven't I found my teacher and gotten the training that I needed to be your Shaman? There is already some danger to my spirit and I've got to go search for my teacher before I become dangerous to you."

"Did he tell you who you're supposed to find?"

Blair shook in head sadly. "It was supposed to be him, but Charlie killed him. I've got to go look for my teacher before it's too late. The wolf can help me. Wait! He's leaving... fading. My heads' starting to hurt... my arm..." For several shaky moments, Blair's respiration increased and his eyes were clenched shut, as if he were in pain.

Concerned, Ellison lightly placed his hand on Sandburg's arm. "Blair, it's time to come back. You're back in the loft, your head is okay and you're going to remember everything. Time to wake up, Chief."

With the contact, Blair immediately relaxed and his respiration calmed. He opened his eyes a short while later to see the anxious face of his friend. "Hey, man."

"Hey yourself. You had me a little worried there at the end."

"I remember now. When the professor started fading out, my right hand started feeling warm. Sorta like it was being held or something. I also started to feel all the little aches and pains that I should have been feeling in the first place. That was so cool."

Ellison gave his friend an exasperated look. "Yeah, 'cool.' ~cough~ So, how do we go about finding this teacher for you?"

"We can contact the tribe. But how? I can't very well call up the university and ask someone in personnel." Jumping up and walking into the kitchen area, Blair started fussing with the pan of soup on the stove. Anger, tinged with regret, could be heard in his voice. "I think I'm still persona non grata there."

Following behind, Jim went to the cabinets to pull out bowls and silverware. "We don't have to bother with Rainier, Chief. There is a file down at the precinct on Tallman. We'll get it when we go in tomorrow."

"You mean if you go in. I'm sure everyone down there would be real happy if you showed up and infected them all."

Jim lightly smacked Blair on the back of the head as he walked towards the table. "I'm going in tomorrow. Don't think I'd be able to survive another day of your mothering, Chief."

Blair just smiled and continued to stir the pan of soup.

"So, how was the Internet date?" Jim asked when the two finally settled down to eat. He saw Blair flinch slightly. "What? Did the girl turn out to be something different than expected?"

"Shelly? No, she was a lot of fun to be with. Had a great time. It's just... well, I told you that we were going to that new mall area. There was this really strange shop owner we met."

"And? Strange funny or strange weird? Come on, Chief. I'm not up to playing 20 questions," Ellison prodded, insistently.

Blair set his spoon down and gave Jim his full attention. "Okay, it's this antique bookshop we found. The books sold there had to do with mysticism and the occult. The name of it has something to do with shamans. No, wait, the Medicine Man's something or other. Anyway, the owner was a strange kinda person. Gave me the willies with the way he acted with me. He said he could see... I don't know. Maybe it's a ploy he uses with all his customers."

"Anything you think we should be concerned with? This wouldn't be the first time someone has taken an interest because of our partnership."

"I don't know, man. I could be jumpy because of the problem I'm having."

"We're having, Chief." Jim smiled at the startled look that appeared on Blair's face. "We're partners and whatever is happening is affecting us both. But if you'd like, let me know the next time you want to visit the store. I'll come along and see if the guy reacts the same with me."

"Thanks, Jim, but I don't think I'll be heading back there too soon. At least not until I-- we get some answers."

Major Crime Bullpen, Next Day

Several desks within the bullpen were strangely empty when Jim Ellison walked through the doors. He had been a little late, since he had been down in the Records department with his partner. When it looked like it might take several minutes to get the file concerning Professor Tallman's murder, Blair had suggested that he wait and Jim go on up.

Looking around carefully, Ellison noticed that the empty desks belonged to all of the individuals that had been working on the warehouse arson cases. No sooner had he removed and hung his jacket on the coat rack behind his desk than the door to Simon Banks' office opened.

"Ellison. My office," a gruff call came from the interior.

Suppressing a sigh, Jim walked to the open door and entered. Sitting around the meeting table in the office were the missing detectives. With a nod, he closed the door behind him and took the nearest empty seat.

"You're looking much better today."

"Thank you, sir. I'm past the worse of it now."

"Where's your partner?" Banks asked, resuming his place at the head of the table. "Don't tell me he's come down with whatever you had."

"Uh, no sir. He, we... I needed some information from an old case in a file from the archives and he volunteered to get it. He shouldn't be too long." Ellison stared at Banks directly, trying to convey the request that the Captain not ask any further questions on the subject.

Banks held Ellison's gaze for a breath or two before clearing his throat and returning his attention to the papers on his desk. "Well, City Councilwoman Simpson is on the warpath again about the 'poor' way we're doing our job. So, the reason we're all together is to set up a plan of action to catch the arsonist. The heat is on us to catch the person or people involved, no pun intended. Instead of us wasting--"

Two sharp raps on the door interrupted Banks and turned the attention of all the detectives in that direction. With a sigh, the Captain motioned for Ellison to answer the knock, since he was closest. A contrite Blair Sandburg stood in the doorway holding a case file.

"So nice of you to join us, Detective," Banks voiced in sarcasm.

With a shy grin and quick duck of his head, Blair slunk into the office and took the last empty chair near Jim. "Sorry, sir. Records was short people and--"

"Never mind the excuses. Just don't make a habit of it." Bank's waved his hand in dismissal, his demeanor more of being tired than annoyed. "As I had started to say, instead of wasting time and people by staking out suspected sites, we're going to change tactics. The arsonist tends to get into the warehouse and set it up for torching sometime prior to actually hitting it. Isn't that what you found with the last one, Ellison?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, sir. There were a couple canisters full of a flammable material stored at one end. We know that the place had been empty, so they had to be positioned sometime earlier in the day. Sandburg and I would have noticed if it had been done that night. What they probably were doing, when we finally noticed them, was spreading the gasoline on the floor just before setting it off."

"So that means the perpetrator is there either the day it's torched or the day before. Inspector Connor brought up the idea that we should force the arsonist's hands and guide them towards a specific warehouse that we choose and it sounds good to me. Would you like to explain the idea, Inspector?"

Connor shifted uncomfortably under the several pairs of eyes that suddenly turned towards her. "Yes, well, it's really simple. We make ourselves pretty visible at those warehouses that we don't want them to hit. Maybe a patrol car or two to make several sweeps during the day at random times. At the one we want to corral them to, maybe have only one patrol early in the day and that is all. Then have a couple of us hole up either inside or in the vicinity."

"I take it that those who are to hide inside will be in some type of disguise?" Taggart asked.

Megan nodded. "If we decide to use the one near the piers, there are a couple of homeless communes in the area. One or two of us could easily fit in."

"No offense, Connor, but you are the least likely to 'fit in' to that community. The women are... somewhat older and definitely more worn," Jim snorted.

"Oh, and you think you'd fit in better?" Megan bristled.

"Cut it out, you two. To keep peace in the ranks, I'll decide who'll be where," Simon broke in, stopping the comment that was about to spill out of Ellison's mouth. "Joel, since rank has its privileges, you'll be exempt from playing dress up. I want you to be in charge of the other warehouses. You'll coordinate the uniforms and make sure that there is a definite presence around them."

"Right, Simon." Taggart leaned back in his chair relieved. It had been several years since he had been down in the working ranks and wasn't looking forward to spending chilly nights in a cold car, watching empty buildings.

"Brown, you've always been good with undercover work, but I don't think Rafe can pull off a good enough 'homeless' look." Banks gave a grim smile towards the pair.

With a chuckle, Brown pinched Rafe's cheek, causing the younger detective to color slightly. He slapped the black detective's hand away. Ellison smiled smugly at the antics of the two detectives and relaxed in his chair. He looked confidently up at Banks, but noticed that the other had turned his gaze to Sandburg.

"Wait a minute, Captain," Jim started, reading what was on the man's mind. "You can't be thinking--"

"What, detective? You don't think your partner can handle the assignment unless he's with you? I seem to remember you about to defend his desire to not look like, what did he call us? Stepford cops?" Banks challenged.

Ellison opened his mouth to speak, but noticed Sandburg looking at him. The expression on the younger man's face all but dared him to say what he knew was on the older man's mind. Snapping his mouth shut, Jim schooled his expression to one of disinterest. "No, sir. I'm more than confident that Sandburg can do the job."

The words were spoken without emotion but Blair could tell that his friend was less than pleased with what the assignments were going to be. The muscles along Jim's jaw were beginning to twitch. This would be the first time since he had returned from the academy, hell the first time he could remember in almost four years, that he would be really working with someone on a case other than Jim.

"Good." Banks gave Ellison a sickening smile. "Then it's all settled. Let's get the uniforms starting their coverage now. Have them check all the buildings and then leave the one at the pier alone. Brown and Sandburg will take off and find the appropriate clothing. I'm sure you two'll have no problem finding the right look. Ellison, I want you and Connor to find a good parking spot out of sight somewhere behind the building before it gets dark. Rafe, you'll be working with Taggart. It's been a couple of days since the last fire and something in my bones is telling me that tonight just might be the night we get lucky. You've got your assignments, so take off, people."

Banks turned his attention to the work sitting on his desk, effectively dismissing the others. He didn't have to look up to know that Ellison had remained in the office after the others had left. "You have something to add, detective?"

"Blair is my partner, Simon. It doesn't feel right for him to be teamed up with H."

"You don't think he can do the work?"

"No, it's not that. It's... well, he's been...." Jim looked out into the bullpen and saw Blair sitting pensively at his desk, watching Simon's office. He looked like a child on the playing field, waiting to find out if the coach was going to play him or park him on the bench. Jim knew that he couldn't take away Blair's chance to perform.

"Well?" Simon asked, drawing the others attention back into the room.

"Nothing, sir. I'll get Connor and we'll be in position before the two get there." Turning quickly, Jim left the office, closing the door behind him.

"You okay with this, Jim?" Blair asked when his friend walked over. He had been sure there would have been a longer conversation between the Captain and his partner. The latter trying to get the assignments changed.

"Sure. No problem, Chief. You did a great job the last time we played alley bums, so there's no reason you can't do it again." Ellison gave his partner a confident grin that he wasn't feeling. He was rewarded with the other relaxing and losing some of his nervousness. "You remember how to dress the part?"

"Easy, man. I'll just get some of the grunge clothing I had worn when I first met you and stop off at the Salvation Army to pick up one of their coats. We gonna be wired?"

"Standard Op, Hairboy," Brown interjected as he approached the two. Knowing how the older detective was feeling, he added, "Don't worry, Jim. I'll take care of the kid. I've done a pretty good job with Rafe, haven't I?"

"Except for failing to steer him away from the 'yuppie' way of living, you haven't done too bad."

Brown flashed a wide grin and raised his voice loud enough to carry over to Rafe's desk. "That GQ attitude was bred into him, man. Gonna take more than hanging with me to break him from that bad habit." Rafe threw a dirty look back in Brown's direction and returned to the work in front of him.

"Let's go, Hairboy. We need to go check out the radio gear and then I want to make sure you're dressed proper." Slapping the smaller man on the back, Brown chuckled and walked away.

After the black detective was out of range, Blair held up the folder for Jim to see. "Guess this will have to wait until tomorrow. Right?"

Taking the file out of Blair's hands, Jim sat down at his desk. "I'll take care of it, Chief. You head on after H. and I'll make the calls."

Giving his partner a wide, excited grin, Blair almost bounced away from the desk. He stopped when Jim called after him.

"Hey, Chief? You be careful and don't pick up any bad habits. I've worked too hard getting you trained to the way you are." Ellison chuckled at the face Sandburg threw back at him as he strode out of the bullpen. But as soon as his partner was out of sight, Jim's smile faded quickly. Something deep inside felt wrong and he didn't understand what it was. He felt for the bond with the younger man and relaxed when he felt the strong attachment. With a shake of his head, Jim opened the folder and picked up the telephone receiver.

Pier 17 Warehouse - Early Evening

"What is that smell, H?" Blair asked, sniffing at the bundle held in the detective's hands. The two were rummaging through a dumpster that was at the north end of the warehouse they were going to stake out.

"Ode to dead fish, Sandburg. These will be our sleeping pads. Since you are my protege, you get the honor of carrying our stuff." Henri tossed the ratty blankets at Blair, causing the young man to wrinkle his nose further in disgust. "Just follow humbly behind me and I'll show you the fine art of scrounging. We might even be lucky enough to find some dinner."

~cough~ "Geez, I'll never get the smell off me. You do remember who I share the loft with, don't you?" Blair held the blankets slightly away from his body.

Brown laughed loudly. "So you'll help him to not be able to smell it right? Come on, kid. Time to shuffle closer to the building and start checking the doors for a way in." He shifted his gaze towards the murky sky over them. "It's gonna rain pretty quick and I don't want to be huddlin' out here in the cold and wet."

"Which door did they leave open for us?"

Ellison's chuckle came over the earpiece each man wore. "None of them, Chief. I'm afraid you'll have to take the high road into the building. Couldn't make it look too easy for you two."

"Oh, thanks a lot, Ellison," Blair groaned as he realized what Jim meant. "You do remember that I've got this thing about heights, man."

"I'll hold your hand while you're climbing." Brown rubbed the knit cap covering Sandburg's unruly curls. The action earned him a backhanded swat against his arm by the smaller man.

"Enough of the chatter, people. This is supposed to be a police operation, not a Friday night social." The mild rebuke was clearly heard in Capt. Taggart's voice, causing the two 'homeless' men to resume their rummaging through the crates and trash that lay against the building. "We've got lots of activity happening around the other targets, so you all know what it should be like at your place. I'll be on the uniforms' channel if you need to contact me. Out."

After spending almost an hour digging through boxes and other trash receptacles, Brown led Blair to a stack of crates underneath a large window with several broken panes. From where he and Connor were hiding, Ellison could easily see the two checking out the sturdiness of the boxes, then Brown assisting a reluctant Sandburg in climbing on top of them.

"This is not fun, man." ~grunt~ "I'm going to take great pleasure in filling out the forms for a workman's comp claim if anything happens," Blair groused loud enough for the hidden microphone in his clothes to pick up his complaint.

Henri's distinctive laughter followed the statement. "You have to survive the fall to be able to fill out the forms, Sandburg." Both men then climbed through the damaged window and disappeared into the warehouse. "We're in and it doesn't look like the targets have been here yet. Gonna try and find a good place in a dark corner. The place is pretty empty and there's not much here to provide cover."

"Roger," came Ellison's reply, then nothing more was said for a long while.

It was dusk when Brown's hushed voice broke the silence on the radio. "Heads up, y'all. We've got some movement." His announcement was followed by the rusty screech of a large door being forced open.

"No one's approached from the back. Where did they come from?" Ellison questioned, straightening up from a slouched position he had taken in the truck.

"They've must of come up through the shadows on the southeast side. I didn't notice any headlights, though," Blair answered quietly, rubbing along his forehead unconsciously.

"You mean the northeast side, Chief," Ellison chided his partner. He got a mumbled reply of 'whatever' back. "Sit tight and let us know when or if they start unloading anything. We're going to move in a little closer." With a glance at Connor, he exited the truck, pulled his weapon from behind his back and started trotting towards the warehouse. The Inspector followed close behind.

"Can you see how many?" Blair whispered to his companion. Brown had told him to stay behind him as the two crept along the wall. They were on the far side of the warehouse with no real cover. There were some steel support beams spaced across the floor but it would mean crossing into the open to get to them.

Pausing for a moment, Blair rubbed at his head. A headache had formed behind his eyes and was starting to increase. Taking a silent, deep breath, he blew it out carefully, then moved up carefully behind Brown.

"I think I see two of...Shit!" Brown exclaimed when headlights were suddenly illuminated, exposing his and Sandburg's position. Both men immediately dropped to the floor and lay flat. Looking across at his companion, Brown noticed Blair holding his head. "What's the matter?"

"Not now. Not NOW!" Blair groaned as the minor headache he had felt starting flared into a blinding throb. With his last coherent thought, Blair called out, "Megan...watch Jim."

A shot rang out in the building, the bullet ricocheting off the floor in front of the two prone men. Grabbing onto Sandburg's arm, Brown dragged him up and over to one of the beams. Another shot smashed into the beam just as the two reached it.

"We need some help here!" Henri yelled, clutching a moaning Blair in front of him. "I've got an officer down!"

Hearing Brown's expletive over the radio, Connor started running towards the warehouse. She and Ellison were almost to the north side of the building when they heard the gun firing inside the building. They had rounded the corner, seeing a van sitting in front of the open, overhead door when Sandburg's warning came over the radio.

Confused, Connor turned to the larger detective to ask him what Sandburg had meant and saw that he had stumbled to a halt, his face slack. Before she could react to his immobility, there was another gunshot and two men raced out of the warehouse towards the parked van. "Hold it! Cascade P.D.," she yelled, leveling her own firearm.

Neither of the men obeyed, one swinging an arm in her direction and firing. The bullet missed her but she heard Ellison grunt and saw him fly backward by the force of the bullet slamming into him. He crashed onto the ground and lay unmoving.

In the warehouse, Brown had his hands full trying to hold onto Sandburg. When he heard Connor's shout and the gunshot outside, Blair suddenly stiffened with a gasp, clutched at his chest near the left collarbone and then collapsed unconscious.

Squeezing the trigger, Connor fired her pistol. The man that had shot Ellison was flung back against the van, the bullet taking him square in the chest. The second man, seeing his partner go down, fled into the growing dark.

Turning towards her fallen companion, Connor called out over the radio airwaves, "Ellison's shot. Officer is shot and down. Get an ambulance here now!" Falling to her knees beside the fallen man, Megan felt for a pulse and was relieved to feel it throbbing gently. "Ellison! Can you hear me?"

Groaning, Jim raised a shaking hand up to his chest and felt up to the left until he found the spot that burned like acid had been poured onto his skin. Turning his head towards the voice that was calling to him, he struggled to open his eyes. "Connor? What...where..." He tried to force out the words to ask what had happened, but was stopped by a wave of pain.

"Stay quiet, Jim. An ambulance is coming," Megan voiced in relief. Bunching Jim's jacket in one fist, she pressed down onto the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding. She jumped when her wrist was grabbed.

"Blair," Jim ground out, holding the woman's wrist tightly. "Where's... ~cough~ Blair?"

"Easy, easy," the inspector soothed. "Brown's with him. I'm sure he's alright."

To Brown, Connor's words couldn't be farther from the truth. He couldn't get the young man to wake up. There weren't any wounds visible and the cause of Blair's unconscious state had him baffled. Gently feeling along the neck, Henri was reassured by a strong, though slow pulse. "Sandburg? Come on, man. Wake up for me here, kid." But Blair remained unmoving, even after the ambulance arrived, loaded him onto a stretcher and into the back of the vehicle for transportation.

Another pair of paramedics struggled to work on the uncooperative Ellison. He fought against their attention, trying to pull himself up. "Connor, get these idiots away from me," he growled, searching and finding the concerned face of the Inspector staring down at him. "Where's Sandburg?"

"Shut up and lay still, Jim. Sandy is being loaded up into another ambulance." Quickly, she raised her hands to halt the questions she knew the man was going to ask. "He wasn't shot, but he is unconscious. They can't get him to wake up, so he's being transported to the emergency. What happened to you here?"

Feeling along the bond he shared with his partner, and relieved that it was there, Ellison confirmed Connor's information. He could tell that Sandburg was unhurt, but unconscious. Allowing the medics to work on him, Ellison turned his attention to the woman. "What are you talking about? I got shot, that's what happened."

Frustrated, Connor took a deep breath and released it to keep from exploding. "Sandy was saying something about 'not now' and telling me to watch you. Then you suddenly freeze and becoming the perfect target for a bullet. You acted like you had one of those episodes he's talked about."

Not knowing how to answer, Ellison did the only thing he could think of: he closed his eyes and allowed the black blanket of unconsciousness to roll over him. He didn't hear Connor mutter a few choice words about his heritage before she stepped away to go talk with Brown.

The fog was back when Blair opened his eyes. Looking around quickly, he gave a sigh of exasperation when he figured out where he was... again. Great. Back in 'Never-Never' land.

"Are you here too, Professor?" Blair called out to the haze around him. When there was no reply, Blair started walking. "Hello? Anyone here?"

A painful, canine whine came from his left, causing Blair to turn sharply towards the sound. Walking in that direction, the fog parted to reveal the prone form of a wolf, his spirit animal. The wolf was panting and rubbing a paw up and over its head as if it was trying to brush something off.

Blair knelt carefully beside the hurting animal and placed a gentle hand on its shoulder. The wolf jerked and whined again. "Shhh," he murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you, my friend." His words seemed to calm the animal.

"He suffers because your abilities are going rogue. Your sentinel has also suffered."

Blair jumped and turned to see Professor Tallman standing nearby. The expression on the man's face was one of sad admonishment.

"Oh, God. Jim! Is he hurt bad? What happened? It was my fault, wasn't it?"

"He was hurt, but it was not a death wound. Even now he worries more about you than he does himself." Kneeling down next to the wolf, Tallman brushed his hand across its head and murmured a few words in a language that Blair couldn't understand. The animal relaxed completely, closed its eyes and appeared to fall asleep.

"I didn't ignore your warning, professor. Honest. When I woke up after the explosion, I couldn't remember what you had told me until yesterday and we were going to contact your tribe. But we had to wait until we could get to the files from the case last year and then this case interrupted and I was paired with another detective to try and stop-"

A hand grasping his arm halted Blair's frantic explanation. "Peace, young Shaman. Your teacher is not from my tribe. That one has to go through training himself and would not be able to help you. No, the one who is your teacher had arrived only recently. I felt their spirit near you no more than a few days ago."

Blair sat back onto his heals and searched his memory. "I think I know who you are talking about. As soon as I get out of here, I'll go find him. Its not too late, is it?"

Tallman smiled and patted Sandburg's arm. "If it were, you would be walking with me along a road in a place very different from this. But don't delay, Blair. Also, be wary of those who offer the easy path. Words deceive and intentions can be false." With a gentle smile, Tallman faded until he was completely gone.

Petting the wolf gently with soft stokes, Blair watched as the area around him darkened. "Don't worry, big guy. I'll do whatever is necessary to get this fixed." The darkness completely engulfed the area as Blair's consciousness fled.

Emergency Room, Cascade General Hospital, Near Midnight

A sharp, pungent scent under his nose jerked Blair awake. Throwing his eyelids open, he gasped and raised a hand to bat at the smelling salts held near his face. The lighting overhead hurt his eyes, causing him to close them again and cover them with the arm. A gentle hand pulled it back down.

"Detective Sandburg? Can you hear me?" a male voice asked calmly. Opening his eyes in a squint, he saw a young man dressed in white staring down at him. "Do you know where you are, detective?"

Glancing around the room, Blair saw a woman in a flowered overcoat holding a clipboard. Beside her, he saw the familiar sight of a plastic IV bag. Following the cord leading from it, he saw that it ended in his arm. "Three guesses and the first two don't count, right?"

"Detective?" The man looked down at him, confused.

Giving the intern a painful grin, Blair rubbed his face with the hand that didn't have any tubes attached to it. "Hospital, right? You're new here, aren't you? Is my partner hovering around out-" Remembering all that had happened, Blair struggled to sit up. "My partner, Jim Ellison. Is he all right? Can I see him?"

The Intern easily held his patient down, outweighing the small man by fifty or more pounds. "Please lie still, detective. I'm Doctor Shriver. You were brought here unconscious with no physical evidence of trauma. The report says that you collapsed for no apparent reason while on a stakeout. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know what happened. I guess I passed out. Please, where's my partner?" Realizing that his efforts were futile, Blair stopped trying to push off the arms holding him, but he craned his head around the area.

"Another detective was brought in with a gunshot wound to the chest. He's up in surgery, but they don't think it's very serious. If it makes you feel any better, he was asking about you before he went up." Shriver saw that the information calmed his patient and released his hold on the man. "Can you remember what happened before you passed out?"

Taking a breath to calm himself, Blair thought quickly of a way to convince the doctor and nurse that he was fine. He gave the two one of his best grins. "It was probably because of all the excitement. It was my first operation without my regular partner and they had me climbing through windows. I have this thing about heights and I must have panicked myself into hyperventilating."

The nurse gave a quiet snort and turned to leave the room. Frowning, the doctor was unsure as to whether he had heard the truth or not. "How are you feeling now?"

"A little tired...and embarrassed."

"Hmmm. Due to the length of time you were unconscious, we're going to keep you for a couple of days and run some neurological tests. There's someone who's been waiting to see you before we take you to your room. I'll tell him that you're conscious." With that, the doctor turned and exited through the door. The fixture hadn't closed completely before it was thrust open by Simon Banks.

The tall Captain stopped at the gurney holding his newest detective and folded his arms across his chest. The expression on his faced warred between anger and concern. "How are you doing, Sandburg?"

"I'm fine, Captain. What happened to Jim? Is he okay?"

"He was wounded by a single shot to the chest. It went completely through the left side, under his collarbone, and missed anything important. Do you want to explain why you warned Connor just before that?"

Blair sighed and brought his free arm up to rub the left side of his chest, as if he had been the one hurt there. "I was having a minor headache. But when we were shot at, it became blinding. I knew that Jim would be affected and hoped that Megan would be able to break him from a zone. That's all I remember."

"According to Brown, you went into a seizure, clutching your chest in the same place that Jim was shot. What's going on here, Sandburg? And don't lie to me because you are on medical suspension until whatever is wrong clears up and I agree to let you come back."

"Honestly, Captain. I don't know what's wrong, except that it probably has to do with the bond that Jim and I have." Blair dropped his voice to prevent anyone from overhearing the conversation. "I reacted to Jim being shot? That's new. Whoa, wait a minute. Medical suspension? What about the arson case?"

Taking off his glasses, Banks rubbed his eyes. "Of the two from the scene, we have one seriously injured and, hopefully, a line on the second individual. Good prints from the vehicle have all but assured me that the second guy will be I.D'd and in custody soon. Connor, Brown and Rafe can finish up the case while you and Ellison are recuperating." Banks turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his arm. He turned back to two intense, blue eyes staring at him.

"You're sure that Jim is all right?" Blair asked.

Simon patted the hand and smiled. "He'll be fine, Blair. You know that it'll take more than one clean bullet wound to keep Jim Ellison down. I'll make sure that you two are put in the same room when he's out of surgery."

Blair smiled and released his Captain's arm, relaxing back onto his gurney. "Thanks." Once Banks left, the smile dropped from his face and Blair reached over to carefully remove the needle from his arm.

With careful concentration, Blair felt for the bond with Jim. He could feel his friend easily; the shoulder aching in echo of the pain the other was still experiencing. With regret, Blair focused his attention on the bond and shut the connection down to a minimum level. He knew that if he shut it completely off, Jim might think he was dead and that was a pain he didn't want the other to experience. But by turning it down as far as he did, Blair hoped it would be enough to keep from being followed.

He was still dressed, except for his shoes and the Salvation Army coat he'd been wearing. The coat was tossed across a chair in the corner of the room and his shoes were underneath it. Easing off the gurney, Blair peeked through the curtains surrounding his room, then retrieved his clothing. His badge was still tucked in a deep pocket but his service revolver was missing. It was probably given to Simon. Slipping the shoes and coat on, he carefully opened the door and peered around the area. Not seeing anyone that would stop him, Blair slipped out of the emergency room and away from the hospital before anyone had noticed he had gone.

Next Day, Midmorning

Familiar and distant, but not completely welcome sounds were what brought Jim Ellison awake; a mechanical PA voice calling for a Doctor Curtis; the rattle of a cart carrying bottles; a whining, female voice complaining about the shift she was being assigned to work. Closer were the beeping sounds of a heart monitor and the rattle of a newspaper.

Blinking his eyes rapidly to adjust to the brightness of the room he was in, Ellison quickly adjusted his sensory dials down against the antiseptic smells that threatened to overwhelm him. He heard the paper rattling next to him cease and someone step closer. The individual smelled of coffee and cigars.

Looking over, Ellison saw his Captain standing next to his bed with a grim look on his face. Raising his head and looking around further, he didn't see the one face that he had really expected. His senses couldn't find the familiar sound or smells that belonged exclusively to his friend and partner. "Where's Sandburg?" were the first words out of his mouth.

Banks frown deepened. "We don't know, Jim. He walked out of the emergency room last night before anyone knew it or could even stop him."

Jim dropped his head back down onto his pillow. "Damn it! You have an APB out on him?"

"For what? Escaping from a place he hated having to go to in the first place? They only wanted to do tests on him, not perform surgery like you received. Have any idea where he might disappear to?"

"He's not at the loft?" Jim's answer was a firm stare. "Give me a minute, okay?" he said softly and closed his eyes. He opened them in shock in less than a minute later. "What did he do?"

"What's the matter?"

"Our connection...he...it's almost shut down. All I can tell is that he's alive." With determination, Ellison pulled himself up and started to pull at the leads attached to his chest.

"Whoa, wait a minute, cowboy. Where do you think you're going?" Banks grabbed at Ellison's hands and stopped them before they accomplished their task. "In case you don't remember, Detective, you were shot last night and only got out of surgery a few hours ago."

"I've got to find him, Simon. He's been having headaches that have almost blinded him-"

"And I should have been told about them before last night. He never would have been involved in the stakeout if you had kept me informed." Anger was creeping into Banks voice.

Ellison just clamped his jaw tight and stared off. Banks maintained his silence, knowing that it was the only way to handle his detective. Finally, Ellison eased himself back down into the bed. "There's a case file on my desk concerning the Tallman murder from last year. We were going to contact his tribe and see if their shaman could help Blair. Give him some training to help him control his abilities and keep me from zoning. There wasn't anyone around that could tell me anything, so I left messages for one of their elders to call me as soon as possible."

"And you think that might be where he's gone? Up to the tribal area?"

"Right now, I don't know where he'd go. But as soon as I can get out of here, I'm going to start looking." The look Ellison gave his Captain informed the man that he wouldn't be diverted from his goal.

With a sigh, Banks pulled out his cell phone and started to head for the door. "Okay. You find out when you can get released and I'll be back to pick you up. In the mean time, I'll have Taggart contact the tribe and see if Sandburg has tried to get in touch with them. Okay?"

"Thank you, sir. Oh, and Simon?" Banks turned to look back. "Don't use your phone in the building. Hospital rules." Ellison maintained a straight face at the look directed at him by Banks. When the man finally left, he felt around the bed until he could find the call buzzer for the nursing station. He'd try the right way to get released first. But if denied, Jim knew there was no way they'd keep him from going after Blair. He and his partner were due for a VERY long conversation.

Blair didn't think they were looking for him, but this was the third police car he had seen cruising the neighborhood. It had taken him some time to travel to the Market Street Mall without following a direct path. He'd holed up at a shelter he knew for most of the night just to keep out of the rain and wait until a time when he thought his destination would be open. He figured that his partner was awake by now, knowing how he reacted to sedatives, and would have someone out looking for him.

"Yeah, Jim's going to be pissed over this one. He'll probably ground me and have me back doing the chores I was doing when I first moved in," Blair mumbled to himself as he watched the blue and silver vehicle go round the corner at the end of the block.

Stepping from out of the doorway he'd used as refuge, he continued in the direction of the bookshop he'd been to the other night. Professor Tallman had said the one who'd be his teacher had been near him recently and Blair thought the guy that owned the shop could to be that person. He'd said he'd seen Blair's aura, something that the Professor had also commented about once.

The sign on The Medicine Man's Corner indicted that it wasn't open yet and wouldn't be for another hour. Obviously, the owner depended on the afternoon crowd for his revenue. With a nervous glance around the area, Blair stepped up to the door to knock. It opened before his knuckles hit the glass twice.

"You've returned! I knew you were in the area and hoped my humble establishment was your intended destination." The man stepped back and opened the door with a grand gesture.

Blair hesitated for a moment then stepped through the door. "Thank you, Mr. Westerly. I was hoping you'd be here. Please excuse my appearance. I just, uh, got off work not too long ago." Realizing how bad he looked, Blair quickly removed his coat and folded it over his arm.

"Basil, please, and don't worry about offending me with your clothing. Probably makes for an interesting story. Would you like to join me for brunch? I have a room in the back that serves as my home. It is convenient, but comfortable." He noticed the nervous way the young man glanced back through the door. "But this is not a social visit. You are troubled." Westerly moved further back in the shop, forcing Blair to step in and away from the door. "No, it is more."

Blair's eyes flitted around the shop nervously after checking back to the street. Something felt wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He decided to be a little cautious about what he did next. "The other night you said that you could see my... you said that you could see something about me. Do you really or was that a line you use to entice a more naive crowd into your shop?"

Westerly looked aghast at Blair, then saw the determined, 'don't give me any shit' look the young man was giving him. As if a switch was thrown, the man changed. "Open your eyes, and mind, and take a look at me."

Blair froze. The bookish fop was gone and in front of him stood a confident man with eyes that seemed to stare through him. Almost without thinking, he took a closer look and saw what he thought was a glow emanating from the man. The color was reddish orange and almost dull.

"I am as my sign says, a Medicine Man. You are too, but have not been trained. That is what you are looking for, right? A teacher?" Westerly stepped around Blair and closed the door to the shop. Seeing the young man jump at his action, he didn't set the lock for fear of really scaring him. The 'Closed' sign in the window would probably be enough to detour any early customers. "Please, come have a cup of tea with me and we'll discuss your situation. Will Earl Grey be okay? I'm afraid I still carry the habits of my home land."

Observing that he could leave if he wanted, Blair gave Westerly what he hoped was a confident smile. "That would be fine. I could use a strong cup of something." He followed the man to the back of the shop.

Standing in the shadows across from the bookstore, a figure had watched the nervous young man enter the shop. Once the door closed, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and punched a couple of numbers to activate the speed dial.

"Trouble. Your 'Wonder Kid' from the other night is back... Yeah, Sandburg went in before I could stop him... Westerly? Like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. How long will it take you?... I'm not moving but you better not stop for anything... You, too, kiddo." Disconnecting the call, the man looked carefully around the area before strolling across the street and taking up a new position near the bookshop's front window.

"So, Mr..." Westerly turned back from his cabinet and looked expectantly at the nervous man sitting at his table.

"Blair Sandburg. Please, call me Blair."

"And I am Basil. Frightfully British I know, but my parents were traditionalists. So, Blair, you are late coming into your ability. It hasn't been a comforting experience, has it?" Westerly turned back to the counter and continued to work on preparing the tea.

Blair couldn't seem to relax in the metal chair. It had a plastic cushion that wasn't very comfortable and seemed out of place in the cozy little kitchenette. The cabinets looked to be real wood and the counter appeared to be marble. The wooden floor had possibly an Oriental rug covering it. "You can say that again. A lot has happened in the past year and I'm still trying to get a handle on it. How long have you been a... medicine man?"

"Oh, I've known since I was a child that this was to be my destiny. My parents didn't think I should make it my career and tried to deter me throughout most of my youth. Do you take anything with your tea? Milk, sugar or honey?" Westerly brought two cups and a ceramic pot to the table, steam floating out of the spout. With great care, he poured the dark, brewed liquid into Blair's cup, then into his own.

"Honey, please. I'm afraid I never got into the habit of drinking tea with milk. Doesn't seem to taste right." Blair placed his coat on a chair to his left, then accepted the cup held towards him. He wrapped his hands around it briefly to warm his chilled fingers. Once he had doctored the liquid with the offered honey, he took a quick sip. "I was told by... well, a friend said that I need to get some training, otherwise I could end up hurting myself and..." Embarrassed, Blair took another sip.

"Bring danger to those you work with, right? I know what you mean." Westerly stared at Blair long enough to make him squirm in his chair. "Part of your ability is healing, something very useful to have. But... what I can see is that you have an energy, power. You desire to give strength, insight and guidance to those around you."

Blair jumped in surprise at the truthful statement, then tried to cover it up by taking a deep draught of the tea. He felt the warmth of the brew as it flowed through his system. "Well, I'm not sure...I..." The room seemed to bow gently away then back to normal. Thinking that the previous night was catching up on him, he took another deep sip of the tea, hoping the caffeine would help. As he started to set the cup back down, his hands seemed to lose their strength and the cup thumped onto the table, splashing its content onto the cloth covering it. "Oh, I'm... so... so sorry." Now his mouth was having trouble getting words out.

Westerly calmly set down his untouched cup and watched his guest clumsily try to clean up the mess he'd caused. Carefully, he reached across the table and moved the half-full cup away from the fumbling hands. "Blair? Are you all right?"

His mind felt numb and he couldn't figure out why. Hearing a voice speaking, Blair dragged his blurring eyes away from the table and tried to focus on the face that wavered in front of him. The eyes within the face seemed to glow and it had a leering grin. "Wha...Ba...Basil?" Blair tried to stand up, but his legs gave out and he collapsed weakly back into the chair. The room was starting to spin madly.

Westerly calmly moved the cups and teapot from the table to the counter and used a cloth to blot up the spilled liquid. He then turned his attention to the comatose figure struggling to move. "I'm so glad you came back, Blair. I haven't seen someone with the type of power you have in a very long time. I had expected to search for years to find such a source-"

The banging crash of the door from the front of the shop startled Westerly. Before he could start in that direction, a tall, redheaded woman entered the kitchen. She flashed a gesture with her hands that caused Westerly to stumble back with his hands flashing counter gestures. The woman stepped further into the room and was followed by the older man from the other night. He was confidently holding a pistol.

"If you didn't get the message from her, I'm sure you know the language that this thing speaks." The man stepped carefully to the side of his companion, keeping Westerly within his line of sight.

"He knows better than to mess with me, Douglas. Check the kid. Basil might not be too truthful as to what he used to spike the tea." She took a sniff of the air. All she could smell was the tea. "You wouldn't use anything that would damage him, would you Basil?"

"What are you doing here, Veronica? Last I heard you were in the desert somewhere, checking out Indian ruins." Westerly gained back some of his demeanor, but kept flicking his eyes to the gun the man called Douglas carried.

"I'd heard you were heading in this direction after that incident in Sacramento. Got a little singed messing with that gypsy group, didn't you? How is he, Doug?" Veronica accepted the pistol her companion handed to her. He gently lifted Blair's head to look into dazed, dilated eyes.

"I'm not sure he even knows we're here. What did you use this time, old boy? Rohypnol like the last time or a new designer?"

"Designer drugs can damage a brain as much as a spirit. He was upset, hurting and having a hard time maintaining control, so I gave him something to calm him down. He must be overly sensitive," Westerly uttered the lie smoothly.

"Yeah, right. Calmed him to the point of catatonia." Moving carefully, Doug lifted Blair's arm to pull it around his shoulder, levered the drugged man to his feet and shifted back towards the door.

Westerly's eyes blazed at the accusation. He watched in frustration as his quarry was guided out of his kitchen and his grasp. His anger grew when he heard the front door of the shop close. "He was fair game, Veronica. You have no right to interfere."

"No right?!? He's an innocent. Did you even give him any information about what you were going to do with him before you decided to spike the tea? I doubt it. Otherwise, he would have run screaming from this shop. You didn't see it, did you?"

Westerly frowned. "What?" All he remembered seeing about Sandburg was a golden glow of power bright enough to blind him.

The red-haired woman chuckled and started to back out of the room, following her companion. "His connection to his protector. His own spirit animal may be hurting and weak, but he's got a powerful protector; a Watchman whose spirit animal is the black jaguar. A soul brother who could and would cut your liver out and feed it back to you if he found out what you intended for his partner."

Westerly paled at the words. He had been so enamored by the kid's ability that he hadn't even considered any type of protection he might have. Veronica waved the gun at him, bringing his attention back to her.

"I really don't want you following us, Basil. So, why don't you grab your cup there and take a nice, healthy swallow. Come on, I know you would rather do that than have me find an alternate way of keeping you here."

With a grimace, Westerly reached back, picked up his untouched cup of tea and did as the woman asked. He had mixed the drug in the pot, then made a show of pouring the tea into both cups to prevent any suspicion. Therefore, his cup was as equally as lethal as Sandburg's had been. As he felt the drug begin to affect him, he sat down at the table. He watched with blurring eyes as the tall figure in front of him tucked the pistol into her jacket pocket, turned and left the room.

Relaxing, Veronica walked swiftly out of the shop and climbed into the SUV idling in front of the door. As they drove away, she turned to look at the recumbent figure in the back seat. Blair looked only to be peacefully asleep. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Barely made it to the Jeep before he passed out, Roni. Basil must have used a strong dose," Doug answered, concentrating on the road.

"Maybe, but it wasn't needed. His spirit and body are hurting, run down to the point that it wouldn't have taken much to knock him out. Damn, the power he has is phenomenal! I'm surprised that no one has snatched him up before this," Veronica exclaimed in awe. She turned back in her seat, forcing away her gaze.

"So where do we go now? It's gonna take a while for him to sleep it off."

"I'm going to need someplace quiet where we won't be disturbed."

"What about his..."

"The Watchman?" The woman sighed and sat staring out the window for several long seconds. She gave Blair another quick glance before turning her attention to the driver. "I don't know. I'm surprised that the two of them are separated now. Let's just get to someplace quiet and get him coherent. He can decide if his partner needs to be with us."

852 Prospect, Wednesday Morning

"I told you he wasn't here, Simon. Why did you insist on stopping?" Ellison's voice had a peevish tone that easily carried through the loft. He'd been released from the hospital that morning, promising the medical staff he'd rest easier in his own bed, but having no intention of keeping that promise. His argument with his boss started when Banks pulled out of the hospital parking lot and drove in the direction of the loft.

"I heard you, Jim," Banks replied calmly, not allowing his detective's attitude to ruffle him.

"Then why are we here? If you think I'm going to patiently stick around here while my partner is wandering around somewhere out there, you've got another idea coming." Ellison paced around the loft, going down the hall to look into Sandburg's empty room, then back into the living room area.

"I brought you here because I thought you might like to get a clean change of clothing. Besides, it didn't hurt for us to check and see if the kid had stopped by and left a note. As unpredictable as Sandburg is, he just might have done that." Just then Banks cell phone rang. "Banks... What did you find out, Joel?... Really... Okay, I'll tell him."

Jim didn't listen in on the conversation, but could tell what the message would be by the expression on the black man's face. "He didn't contact Tallman's tribe." Pulling out a kitchen chair, Jim adjusted the sling his left arm was confined in then sat down.

"No. They wouldn't have been able to help him, anyway. With Tallman's death, the tribe's been without a full-fledge medicine man. They've been searching for teachers for his apprentice." Banks pulled out a chair and joined his detective.

"Medicine man," Jim mumbled, his eyes taking on a distant look.

"What was that?"

"You said the tribe has been without a medicine man. Blair had told me about this strange bookstore he went to last Friday night that had the words 'medicine man' in the title. He said that the owner had acted strange around him. That the man said he saw something, and it bothered him. Charlie Walker grabbed Blair last year because of what he 'saw' in him."

"You think the kid might have gone back to this shop and the owner has him? That's a pretty long stretch, Jim."

Standing up, Ellison strode towards the stairs to his bedroom. "We don't have any other leads to go on."

"Wait! What about that thing you two have? That connection or whatever you call it."

Ellison stopped and closed his eyes. In his mind, he could see the bond he had with Sandburg leading away from him, but it faded out when he tried to follow it. Frustrated, he smacked his fist against the banister. He couldn't feel the direction that it led, only that the person attached to the other end was alive. "I'm blocked. Somehow, Blair's able to stop me from tracing him."

Simon held his hand out in a calming gesture. "Take it easy, Jim. The kid was really upset by what happed at the warehouse. He's probably trying to find someone that can help him. Maybe he's staying at the shop."

"I'll get changed and we'll go down there and check the place out. Maybe Blair did go back there and the guy referred him to someone else." He paused half way up. "I can drive or take a taxi if you don't have the time, sir."

Banks gave him a shooing motion with his hands. "What, and allow you to have all the fun chewing Sandburg's butt out when you catch up to him? I don't think so."

Lake Cushman Resort, Same Day

The gentle brushing of a cool, damp cloth across his forehead was the first sensation Blair registered as his mind swam back towards consciousness. It felt so comforting that he tipped his face towards the cloth and started to drift again. Jim may put on the facade of being a hardass, but he's really just an old softy. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice he didn't expect.

"Don't go back to sleep," a woman spoke, breaking the silence.

Forcing his eyes open, Blair blinked them rapidly to try to clear his vision. The room swung around once, then settled down, allowing him to see that his comforter was a woman. A beautiful one that he knew he hadn't met before. But she knew his name, so he must have met her somewhere. "Hi." His voice sounded strangely rough.

"How are you feeling? Any after-effects?" She looked at him carefully, placing a hand on his cheek, then moving it to his forehead.

"After-effects?" The question confused him. His head felt like it was full of cotton. "What happened? I get drunk, pass out somewhere and you brought me here?" Blair looked away from the beautiful redhead and tried to figure out where 'here' was. It was a bedroom with a very rustic decor. "Where are we? Do I know you?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" the woman asked calmly. She leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest.

Raising an arm and laying it across his forehead, Blair stared up at the ceiling and tried to make his muddled mind remember. "I... had walked to the Mall to... yeah, to talk to the owner of this bookstore. He... invited me to have something to drink with him while we talked... and..." Eyes widening in panic, Blair remembered feeling helpless as he succumbed to the drug that Westerly must have put in his tea.

He'd been drugged! Scrambling back from the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, Blair was stopped when he hit the headboard and the wall it was up against. He looked around wildly for some way to escape. He was not going to be kept a captive this time without a fight.

"Hey, calm down. You're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you," the woman crooned softly, her hands held palm up and away from her body to show that they were empty.

His sudden movement had caused a wave of nausea to sweep from his stomach to his throat and a throbbing pain was building behind his eyes. Blair closed his eyes, swallowed convulsively, and struggled to keep from becoming sick. Dropping his head down to this chest, he forced his breathing to slow down, blowing forcefully in and out of his nose. He didn't struggle as a pair of strong hands helped him lay back down and the cool, damp cloth was placed across his eyes.

"You're suffering from the effects of a strong narcotic." The woman's voice spoke softly. "Basil Westerly spiked your tea... probably with something that you wouldn't have been able to taste."

"Why?" The word was forced out through clenched teeth.

"You don't know what you have, do you Shaman?"

The question startled Blair. He reached up with a shaking hand to remove the cloth from his eyes so that he could see the woman's face. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"My name is Veronica Charbonneau and I don't want anything from you, Blair Sandburg. But I do offer my services to teach you."

"Why?" This time, the word was spoken as a plaintive plea.

Veronica smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "Because you need help. Because there's something about you that says I won't regret giving you control over the fantastic ability you have within you. Besides, if I don't, nasties like Westerly will try to use you or drain you dry. And I just love denying them that." The feral grin Veronica displayed caused Blair to give a weak, but answering smile.

"So, you're a shaman?"

"Well, let's just say that I don't follow just one path." At the frown that flashed across Blair's face, Veronica gave a quiet sigh. "Okay. Yes, I do at times follow the path of shamanism, but I've also been trained in the way of Wicca and have studied a little about the druids. I've found that, for me, I need to have an eclectic background."

"Why?" Blair slowly started to shift his body to prop up on an elbow.

"Because I'm acting as a teacher more times than not and need to understand the different ways." Veronica chuckled. "Never thought I would get to this stage of my life, but my mother told me that it was my future."

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around the room again.

"We were able to get one of the cabins in the resort area across the bay from Cascade. Wasn't hard since it's between seasons. We needed a place where we won't be disturbed for the training." Veronica paused when she saw Blair clench his eyes and press the cloth in his hand back to his head. "You're suffering from another headache." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," Blair groaned.

"Think you can trust me to help you?" At Blair's nod, Veronica pulled his hands away from his head and replaced them with her own. Her thumbs brushed up his nose and then split to rub above each eyebrow in a repetitive, sweeping stroke. "Concentrate on my voice. Force the pain to break apart and fade away. You can take control of the blood flow and make it slow down... that's it. You can 'see' what I'm talking about, can't you?"

After a couple of minutes, Blair opened his eyes and smiled, unable to keep the incredulous tone from his voice. "Yeah, I can. Thank you!"

Removing her hands, Veronica locked green eyes onto deep blue ones. "I did nothing. It was all you. Just one of the things I can help you with, but not now." She said the last part quickly when she saw the gleam of excitement flair in Blair's eyes. "My partner has been slaving over a hot stove, hoping there would be some hungry people for lunch. Food will help get rid of the residue of the drug used on you and I know you haven't had anything for at least 24 hours."

As if on cue, Blair's stomach grumbled noisily. With an embarrassed smile, he took the extended hands, allowed himself to be pulled up and stood shakily by the bed. "I feel as weak as a newborn kitten," he said with some chagrin, as he allowed the taller woman to help him walk.

"Don't worry, it'll pass once you get some solid food into you. Besides, you're also going to need all the strength you can gather when you call your partner."

Blair stopped suddenly, groaning softly as he realized what she meant. "Oh, shit! Jim's going to kill me."

Veronica laughed at his tone. "I don't think he'll actually kill you, but I've got a feeling he's not too happy with what you've done by how you're acting. Why don't you give me a little information about yourself, so we'll have some productive conversation for breakfast." Taking a light hold of an arm, the tall woman led her new student out of the room.

Market Street Mall, Same Day

"You're sure this is the area he was talking about?" Banks asked as he pulled his car past a couple of parking spaces. "Looks like some tourist refuge."

"I think that was the main reason for building the area up this way. Close to down town and the other tourist places. Wait!" Ellison exclaimed suddenly. "Over there, sir. That's got to be the place."

Looking around quickly, Banks located a parking spot at the end of the block and pulled into it quickly. He had barely put the car in 'park' before his passenger was opening his door and climbing out. "Wait a minute, Jim. Let's do this right. I don't want to be having to defend you on a civilian complaint."

"He's not a civilian anymore, Simon."

"I'm not talking about Sandburg. It's the shop owner you'll probably be going through to get to him."

Banks' remark caused Ellison to stop short. He was feeling irritated, both at his partner and the sling he was wearing. "Sorry," he mumbled. Waiting for his captain to catch up with him, Jim took a quick, deep breath and blew it out slowly, relaxing the rigid muscles along his shoulders and neck.

The sign on the front window of The Medicine Man's Corner indicated that the store was closed, but there were lights that could be seen in the back. Knocking sharply on the door, Ellison automatically listened into the shop. He was able to hear the rattling of dishes in conjunction with the running of water.

"There's someone in there. I can hear them in the back," Jim commented and knocked again, much harder and longer this time.

"The store is closed," called a muffled, accented voice from the interior. "Come back later." At the irritated grumble that came from Jim's throat, Simon put a hand on the man's arm, pulled him back slightly and stepped closer to the door.

"Cascade PD, sir. We'd like to speak to you. Please open up," Banks called, projecting his voice easily through the door.

A head immediately peeked around the corner of the door jam at the back of the shop, a frightened expression marring the features. It pulled back and, after several noisy seconds of drawers being closed and a door slamming shut, the owner hustled out of the backroom to the front of the shop.

"Please excuse me, constable," the man voiced hastily as he flung the door open and stepped back to allow the two detectives to enter. "I was in the middle of doing my morning chores and I truly dislike being disturbed by people who do not pay attention to the posted times on the door. Basil Westerly at your service."

Banks stepped forward and took command of the conversation. He held out his gold shield. "I'm Captain Banks and this is Detective Ellison. We're sorry to bother you, Mr. Westerly, but we're trying to locate one of our detectives. He'd mentioned being at your shop a couple of nights ago and we're just back tracking all the places he's visited." He replaced his badge and took the picture that Ellison pulled from his jacket pocket and turned it to the man. "Has this man been to see you recently? Yesterday maybe?"

Westerly pulled out a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket, absently placed them on his face, then looked closer at the picture. It was of Blair Sandburg, an older photo when his hair was shoulder length. Focusing on the face, Westerly paled slightly and pulled back. "No, I'm sorry. I don't remember anyone looking like that being here."

Ellison had been focusing his attention around the shop, but his hearing had been trained on the nervous shop owner. He heard the man's heart beat increase when he'd looked at the photo and knew he was lying. "He has a shorter haircut now. I know this is the place he mentioned because you have some books," Jim looked directly at the shelves housing books on shamanism, "that he'd been trying to find."

Westerly turned his attention to the shelves indicated and then to Ellison. From the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw the shape of a very large, dark animal pace around a table towards the back of the shop, causing him to become more nervous. "The Watchman," he whispered. The corners of Ellison's mouth upturned briefly.

"Excuse me?" Banks queried. When he saw that Westerly's attention was frozen on Jim, Simon cleared his throat. The sound brought the man's attention back quickly.

"Oh, nothing. Well now ~ahem~ now that I really think about it, there was a gentleman resembling that, that photo here." The man took a nervous step back from the white detective, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two in front of him.

"When was that, sir?" Banks asked.

"He, he was here yesterday morning. But only for a little bit." Westerly watched as Ellison lifted his head and appeared to sniff at the air.

Jim turned towards the door leading to the back of the shop and strode to the entrance. He didn't hear Simon say his name or Westerly asking him to wait. His nose had picked up some very familiar scents, one faintly of herbal shampoo that was almost overwhelmed by another of rotting fish. Zeroing in on the odors that had led him to the kitchen, he opened what appeared to be a closet door. Stuffed hastily onto a shelf was the coat he knew his partner had been wearing on the night of the stakeout.

Pulling out the garment, Ellison focused his attention on it as the two men came up behind him. Feeling through the pockets, he found a leather wallet. Opening the wallet, he found a gold badge and identification indicating that it belonged to Sandburg. Looking up at the men watching him, he saw that Westerly was deathly pale, clutching his hands in front of him and quaking in fear. "Think you can remember why you have my partner's coat in your closet?" Jim asked, his voice dangerously low.

"H...he was here yesterday, but left. He wasn't hurt, I swear!" Westerly stumbled backwards under the intensity of the blue eyes glaring at him. The emotions emanating from this man were almost strong enough to see visibly. Basil knew that if he said the wrong thing, the man in front of him would cut out his liver and feed it too him.

"Do you know where he went?" Banks asked firmly.

"Veronica took him. I don't know where they went, on my honor."

"Veronica who?" Ellison cut in. "Why did she take him?"

Westerly shifted away and around the table sitting in the middle of the room, but he didn't feel any safer having something solid between the angry men and himself. "Her name is Veronica Charbonneau. Sh...she's a witch!" Westerly spit out the word, but hastily drew a symbol in the air in front of him.

"You didn't answer the question, Mr. Westerly. Why would this woman take Blair Sandburg?" The shrilling ringing of the cell phone in Ellison's pocket interrupted the answer. Tucking the wallet back into Blair's coat, he tucked the garment between sling and chest, then dug his cell phone out. "Ellison!" he barked into the instrument.

"Hey, Jim," It was Blair on the other end, his tone hesitant.

"Blair? Where are you? Are you all right, Chief?" Jim asked frantically.

"I'm fine. Please don't worry 'cause nothing has happened to me, man. I haven't been kidnapped or anything, this time."

"Where is he, Jim?" Simon asked, stepping closer to his detective. "Does he know where he's being held?"

Ellison waved his hand sharply to halt his superior's questions. "The owner of the bookstore said that some woman named Veronica Charbonneau took you out of here yesterday, Chief. Where are you at now?"

"Yeah, she stopped me from being a victim of another Charlie Walker situation. Apparently, Westerly can 'see' the ability I have and wanted it. Roni's said that she can help me with it and teach me how to block others from...'seeing' it as well as control my ability."

At Blair's words, Jim turned his gaze towards Westerly. Seeing the intense anger blazing from the detective's eyes, the shop owner jerked backwards and scrambled towards the back door leading out of the shop. He was able to escape before the others could stop him. Banks ran after him.

"He just took off like a scared rabbit."

"Damn it! The man drugged me with something, but Roni interrupted his plans."

"Where are you, Chief? We'll come pick you up. I'd like to thank the woman."

"~sigh~ Sorry, Jim, but I'm not going to tell you. I've got to get whatever is wrong with me fixed before I even think of getting anywhere near you again. If I can get it fixed."

Ellison could hear the pain in his partner's voice. "Blair, I'm your friend and your partner. And as your Sentinel, whatever happens to you affects me, too. We can work it out together. Tell me where you are, buddy." There was several longs seconds of silence before Blair spoke again. Jim could hear his friend's heart beat speed up slightly.

"I'm sorry, man. I've caused you to zone three times. The last time got you shot and I can't... I won't take the chance that the next one will get you killed. Please understand, Jim. I... I'll call you later. Take care." The last words were said in a rush, emotion choking Blair's voice.

"Sandburg? Blair!" Ellison yelled into the phone as he heard a click and the dial tone returned. "Damn him!"

"Jim?" Banks asked, returning to the room.

Ellison closed up his cell phone and placed it back into his coat. He took the coat from under his arm before looking back up at his Captain. "He said that he's all right, but he wouldn't tell me where he was. Apparently, Westerly is able to see whatever... power, I guess you'd call it, he has. The man slipped him a mickie in a drink, but was stopped from whatever he intended by a Veronica Charbonneau. He's with her somewhere."

"Somewhere? What do you mean? Couldn't you hear anything? You know, in the background."

A little surprised at his Captain's suggestion, he sat down at the table. Ellison closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, the relaxing tones of a familiar voice automatically echoed in his head. "Come on, Jim. You know the drill. Separate out the familiar sounds and focus on what you heard in the background." Smiling slightly, he followed the instructions from the memory and played back the conversation through his head.

Banks watched his detective concentrate, head swiveling to the side as if he were listening to something very distant. He'd seen Ellison do this before, but usually Sandburg was talking him through the process.

"There's no street noises around him," Jim finally said, concentrating still on the memory.

"What, no cars or trucks?" Banks asked, still a little awed by Ellison's abilities.

"Right, no traffic or... he was outdoors when he made the call. I heard wind blowing through pine trees, the creaking of tree limbs." Ellison opened his eyes and looked up at his Captain. "It's somewhere outside of the city, far enough for there not to be any of the normal sounds, but I did hear a motor in the distance that sounded like a Jet Ski. I also heard a sea bird."

"So, he might be staying near a lake. Most of the resorts will be closed or closing down for the season. Shouldn't be too hard to find out which ones are still open from the Parks department. I'll get Brown or Rafe on it."

"And I'm going to run a check on Ms. Charbonneau. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll have some type of record or even some property around." Jim stood up and walked out of the kitchen. "What about Westerly?"

"Sorry, Jim. I lost him in the Mall," Banks sighed. "We'll get an APB issued on him for the attempted kidnapping of Sandburg and have forensics go over this place. I'm sure whatever he used on the kid is probably still around and that'll lock up the case on him."

"And when we find my partner, I'm going to lock him up," Ellison mumbled under his breath as he led the way out of the bookshop.

Blair hung up the receiver on the telephone attached to the pole near the parking lot. What he had just done was not easy and he knew that he had made his partner very angry. He rubbed his temples to rid his head of the minor ache the conversation had caused.

"He didn't take it too well, did he?"

Turning to the voice, Blair saw Doug Turner propped on a nearby stump. "That's putting it mildly. If I wasn't already on medical leave, I'm sure Jim would get our captain to suspend me for this."

Doug stood up and started walking with Blair back towards their cabin. "Doesn't he realize that this is necessary, and for his own protection, as well as your well-being?"

"Oh, he will eventually. But right now, he's just angry at me for shutting him out. Jim's got this major need to control situations and by me doing this, I've taken that away from him." Blair grimaced at the thought, causing Doug to laugh out loud.

"Don't worry, Blair. With the ability you have, and after Roni's teaching, you're friend will be grateful for the effort you went through."

"Either that or he'll be ready to trade me in for someone he can trust more. This is not the first time that I've locked Jim out, but this time I did it deliberately. I'm breaking the promise I made not to do it to him again."

Doug didn't laugh at Blair's comment this time. He just patted the younger man on the back and led the rest of the way to the cabin. When they arrived, Veronica was waiting on the porch. She smiled in sympathy at the dejected way Blair looked and understood the quick headshake Doug gave her.

"Are you ready to start, student?" she asked formally, getting to her feet.

Not hearing a mocking tone in the words, Blair straightened his spine as he climbed the steps to the porch and gave his new teacher a firm nod. "The sooner the better."

"Great! Then we'll start first with finding out exactly what is your ability and its uses, then we'll start working on the basics and proceed from there." She led the way into the living room area of the cabin. It had several white candles lit and positioned around the room. The soft scent of a spicy incense floated through the air. In the middle sat a low coffee table with a fat candle sitting in the center, its flame flickering gently.

"I'm going back into town for some supplies. That should give you a few hours. Don't work him too hard, Roni." Giving his companion a firm look, then blowing her a kiss, Turner grabbed his jacket, and a set of keys sitting on the table, and left the cabin.

Blair watched the interaction between the woman and man, but made no comment. He didn't notice a wedding ring on either's hand, but that didn't mean anything in today's society. Many people committed themselves to another without the benefit of a church; some for a lifetime and others for short, but otherwise very intense periods. His own existence was evidence of the later. He decided to leave the subject alone.

"What I really don't understand about this whole thing is why has this, this ability you said you can see appeared now? I mean, could it have been given to me?" Even as Blair spoke the words, he remembered Incacha, his bloody hand clasping Blair's arm, declaring with his dying words that he passed the way of the shaman to him.

"I've never heard of anyone being 'given' a gift, especially like the one you have. No, more than likely you've always had the abilities, but that the time had to be right for it to come forward. Sometimes, it takes a traumatic episode to break it loose and other times it just appears because it was needed." Veronica spoke the last words softly, since she noticed that Blair appeared to be thinking more than listening to what she had said.

But Blair had heard every word and was applying the information. Incacha must have seen the latent ability I had, which is why he had chosen me to take his place. And he'd also chosen Jim when he'd crashed in Peru because he saw that Jim had the suppressed abilities to be a Sentinel. So... Jim comes back to civilization and his abilities start to resurface at a time when I happen to have connections at the hospital who can contact me about him. My abilities start to surface when Jim is ready to accept me more as a partner and not as just someone to help him control his abilities. We've got to talk-

"Blair? Are you still with me?" Veronica asked, interrupting his musings.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Everything you've said is starting to make other things make sense." Veronica gave him a knowing smile. "So, where do we start for me to get control over my abilities?"

"Let's get comfortable on the floor and you get grounded and centered." Veronica removed her shoes, placed her coat on the rack by the door and walked with stockinged feet to one side of the table. Gracefully, she dropped to the floor into a half lotus position.

Following her example, Blair removed his coat and shoes and sat on the other side of the table. "Grounded and centered?" he asked once he was seated. "I know how to center myself, I've practiced meditation for years. But, what do you mean by getting grounded?"

Veronica carefully hid the shock that wanted to flood across her face. "Didn't you tell me that you spent time with a Chopec shaman down in Peru?" Blair nodded. "What did he teach you while you were down there?"

During breakfast, Blair had explained about being installed as Jim's shaman by Incacha and their trip to Peru. However, he did keep the why of the whole situation to himself. He didn't feel it was his place to mention his partner's abilities. "Nothing, really. We had a minor language problem; I didn't speak Chopec and he didn't speak English. He helped me get rid of a headache I'd been carrying around for a couple days and some nightmares that had been bothering me."

"And at the temple?"

"Jim and I were there alone. It was mainly for us to confirm our bond to one another. I... I was working on what felt right then. Instinct, you know?" Blair gave her a beguiling smile, but quickly sobered when she didn't respond.

Veronica sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Okay, then from the very beginning. Grounding is a stabilization of your mind and spirit, preventing them from shorting or being shorted out. Think of it like a grounding cable used with electrical appliances."

"Oh, I see. The surges Jim's gotten through our bond, or I should say the shorting out of it, is because I'm not grounded. But what had kept it from starting until now? We've had the bond with each other for some time."

"Instinct?" She smiled at the chagrin that appeared as she gave Blair's word back to him. "It's possible that the explosion you were involved in shook your natural control. It's probably a good thing that it happened at this time, while your ability is still in its infancy. Natural talent is no substitute for proper training. So, let's get started. I want you to show me your technique for getting centered. Once you are there, I'll walk you through the grounding procedure."

Three Hours Later

"Ow! That hurt, damn it!" Blair complained crossly, grabbing his head.

"It was supposed to, Blair. You didn't have it again. I had to show you how'd it feel if someone tried to take control without you having the proper grounding." Veronica stood up and stalked into the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass of water, she stood at the sink and took several sips, slowly calming the temper that wanted to flare. "But if it makes you feel any better, I felt a jolt back from you. Seems you have an ability to strike back at a mental attack. But it wasn't very strong since you didn't have grounding to control it."

Blair leaned back against the couch, his eyes clenched shut. "I'm sorry, Roni. I know what you're wanting me to do but it doesn't seem... right when I try to do it."

"Blair, when you were in college, how were you able to get into the routine of studying, doing papers and taking tests?" Walking back into the room, Veronica sat down next to Blair. "Was it easy for you?"

"Hell, no. Growing up, I had a pretty free style of living. Even though I was considered highly intelligent, I had to learn how... to... study." Realization spread across Blair's face. "College took commitment and a change of my whole attitude. I was an opinionated, know-it-all kid who was a terror to the university. Luckily, I had a professor that saw something in me and he became my mentor. He got me to see things in a different way."

Veronica smiled. "Exactly. You had to give up a natural style and learn a different and more controlled way. That is what I'm trying to teach you here. But like you, maybe I need to think out of the box with the way I'm teaching you. Want to try?"

"Hit me with your best shot." Blair flinched at the look Veronica threw at him, but sat up and resumed a half lotus position. When the woman took up a position behind him, he became nervous. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Instead of telling you what you need to do, I'm going to show you. It's going to take quite a bit of trust on your part, but I think it'll work. Willing to try?" Veronica leaned around to look at Blair's face. She saw uncertainty and a trace of fear.

"You want to get into my head?" Blair's voice broke slightly.

"Yes."

Blair looked into the woman's bright green eyes. He didn't see any guile or gleam of hunger like he remembered seeing in Westerly's eyes. Making the decision, he swung back around, closed his eyes and went through his breathing exercises to relax and center himself. He felt Veronica's gentle, warm fingers become positioned on each side of his head, her breath on the back of his neck. He stiffened slightly at the mental pressure that appeared in his head, then calmed down and opened his mind.

"Very good, Blair. Just relax and let me guide you." Veronica's mental voice felt like smooth, warm cream in his head.

The image of a red fox seemed to interchange itself with the mental image Blair 'saw' of Veronica. Feeling her 'take' his hand, he followed her along a familiar path to a clearing that resembled the place in Peru that he and Jim had pledged their bond. Centered in the clearing was the stone pillar that held the images of a Sentinel, Shaman and different spirit animals. Stepping closer to it, Blair felt Veronica 'let go' of his hand. Feeling no fear, Blair gave into the pull he felt from the stone, reached forward and placed his hand flat against the surface. He almost heard an audible snap when he became grounded. A feeling of rightness spread through him.

"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?"

"Oh, man! I've haven't felt something like that in a very long time. But how- "

"Where you are and what you used to ground yourself came from you. It's your mind, Blair. When you're ready to come back, you know what to do." Veronica's presence faded from Blair's mind until he knew he was alone.

Going through the proper technique, Blair slowly returned back to awareness. He'd spent what he thought was only a few minutes in the clearing he remembered so well. The wolf, his animal spirit, had appeared to him while he was there and bounced around him like a young puppy. He no longer felt that the animal was hurting from the lack of control over his ability, especially since it allowed him to hold and pet it. Finally, the wolf gave him a swipe across the face with its tongue and bounded back into the forest area. That is when Blair brought himself back up into consciousness.

"Welcome back. How do you feel?"

Looking around, Blair saw Doug sitting at the table in the kitchen area. There was a single place setting at the table and the kitchen lamp was lit. Looking back around the living room area, Blair saw that all the candles except the one that was sitting on the table in front of him were out and the room was cloaked in a gentle darkness.

"Kinda tired," Blair finally answered. He saw that it was dark outside. "Where is Roni? How long have I been... out?"

Turner smiled, stood up and walked into the living room. He extended a hand to help Sandburg stand up. "I put Roni to bed about an hour ago, after she ate. She told me to let you come back on your own, since you were finally able to find your ground. I figure you've been 'out' for about four hours. Hungry?" Guiding Blair into the kitchen, he helped him sit down at the table in front of the lone place setting.

"Starved. Four hours? It only felt like a few minutes."

"That's a hazard you have to guard against whenever you go walking on the spirit planes. Always make sure that you have someone to watch over you. I do for Roni." Doug lit a burner on the stove and placed a teakettle onto the flame. He then opened the oven door and brought out a casserole dish. "I made a one-pan roast and it's still warm. There are also some biscuits. How about it?"

Blair gave the man a grateful smile and reached for the glass of water sitting in front of him. He saw his hand shaking and pulled it back to stare at it. Taking a mental assessment, he also realized that he could easily fall asleep where he sat given half a chance.

"The trembling will ease after you get something to eat. Right now, your energy reserves are about at the bottom of the scale. That's another reason to make sure you have someone around to watch over you. After dinner, I highly suggest you take a shower and head for bed. Sleep yourself out, too." Doug placed the steaming plate of food in front of Blair, then turned back and grabbed the basket of biscuits.

Blair placed a napkin on his lap and took up a knife and fork. "I had this happen before. My partner was suffering from a killer hangover and I wanted to help him over it. I didn't gage what I was doing and over extended; passed out when I was going down the stairs. He told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't supposed to do it again without him being there and able to watch over me."

Doug chuckled at the embarrassed look Blair had on his face. "Sometimes the hardest lessons learned are the best. Are you and your partner close?"

"He's the best friend I've ever had; the brother I've never had." There was pride in Blair's voice, but he ducked his head in abashment. Taking a quick breath, he brought up the question that had been hovering in his mind. "Uh, do you mind if I asked you a something? If it's too personal, just tell me to shut up and I'll-"

Doug brought two steaming cups of tea to the table, setting one in front of Blair and moving a jar of honey closer. "You're wondering what is my relationship with Roni. Right? She's obviously younger than I and you haven't seen any proof that we're married."

Blair choked and quickly used his napkin to cover his mouth against the coughing fit he went into. "Sorry. ~cough~ I don't mean to pry, man. She's a beautiful lady and I wouldn't want to leave her alone with any man."

"I have no worry that someone could or would make Roni stray. We're soulmates. In fact, she's the one that found me and told me that we were destined to spend the rest of our lives together. She said that I was her ground and the next thing I knew, she'd moved in with me."

"Do you have any...I mean...."

"Abilities? Nothing like what you have. Roni also said that I'm her power supply. Sometimes she helps the FBI and other federal agencies with special cases. If she over extends herself, I help her recharge. I also protect her sanity. I'd do anything to keep her safe."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Blair spoke the words softly, but Doug was able to hear him. Both men smiled, then fell silent, Blair concentrating on cleaning the plate in front of him and Doug on drinking his cup of tea.

Finally, seeing that Blair was almost finished, Doug stood up and started to clean things up in the kitchen. Blair also stood and grabbed his plate, but swayed slightly. He shook his head to try and clear away the ringing that appeared in his ears.

"Here, give me that and go get a shower. Today was just the first part of your training but it was also the hardest. You need to rest and recharge." Doug took the plate out of Blair's hand and walked the younger man towards the bathroom. He gently propelled him into the room with a gentle push. "Good night, Blair. Congratulations.

"Thanks, man. Good night."

852 Prospect, Same Night

There was a familiar grouping of trees surrounding him, tall, deep green and definitely not what would be found around Cascade. Jim Ellison took a glance at himself and found that he was wearing clothing from the time he'd been lost in Peru, after the helicopter crash. The only difference was that he had no weapon on or around him and he wasn't marked up for recon.

A low growl followed by a yip brought his attention to rest on a small, red fox sitting near a trail. The animal looked at him curiously before standing to trot up the trail. It traveled a few feet before stopping to look back at him. Jim remained still until his spirit animal, the black jaguar, paced casually around him to follow the fox.

Ellison followed the two animals for at least a mile, the pathway becoming more familiar the farther he went. When the fox finally stopped and sat down, he realized where it had brought him. He was back in Peru, but it wasn't near the Chopec village. It was the clearing he and Sandburg had traveled to together-- where they pledged their bond as Sentinel and Shaman.

"You brought me here for a reason," he finally said angrily, looking into the cool green eyes of the fox. "Does it have to do with Sandburg?"

The small animal looked over at the jaguar; the big cat had decided to lie down at the end of the trail and was washing itself. Looking back up at the big man, the animal's body blurred and began to grow. It morphed into the shape of a beautiful woman with flaming red hair, dressed in an almost blinding, white robe. She folded her arms and looked sternly at the man in front of her.

"So, you're the partner he's been so worried about. I had one hell of a time trying to get him to focus on himself and not on you." The woman's voice was full of sarcasm.

"Where is my partner? Where are you holding Blair Sandburg?" Ellison demanded, taking a step closer.

"Whoa, wait a minute, GI Joe." The woman held a hand up, but didn't back off. "I'm not 'holding' Blair anywhere. Just to keep you calm, we're staying at a resort near Lake Cushman, just off highway 119. But I'm asking you not to show up until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest. The next morning would be better, but I don't think you're that patient. By then, he should have some strong barriers built and his strength back. He's been able to get some control."

Ellison relaxed slightly, understanding what she was saying. "You're Veronica. I guess I should thank you for what you've done."

Veronica gave him a brilliant smile. "Was it that hard to say that? I know you take your role as his protector as serious as he takes his role as yours, but he's very safe where he is." She paused and studied the man in front of her. "You know, I was taught that when the student was ready, the teacher would appear. Blair's been ready for a long time. What happened?"

"The man who was supposed to have helped him had been killed last year by a man, his apprentice, who'd wanted-"

"Blair's powers."

"Among other things. We were able to stop the guy, but not before the professor died. Blair said that his spirit came a couple of days ago and told him to find another teacher, quickly."

Veronica's form started to fade out. "So that's who I saw. Okay, looks like our time is up. Remember what I said, Ellison. Please, don't show up until late tomorrow. Blair needs the time to train. Otherwise, he'll never be the shaman that you need." With that final statement, she morphed back down into the shape of the fox then completely disappeared.

Ellison looked around briefly, but couldn't see where the animal had gone. On a hunch, he stepped closer to the edge of the clearing. Looking through the greenery, he saw the form of the silver wolf he knew to be Sandburg's spirit animal. It was sitting in front of the pillar of stone, staring at it as if it was studying the markings. At a slight sound, the animal jumped up and turned around. It looked at him with dark blue eyes.

"Jim?"

Ellison sat up abruptly in his bed, Sandburg's voice calling his name still ringing in his ears. Wiping a hand over his face, he looked over at his clock. It read 12:43 a.m. He'd been asleep for about an hour and had been able to do that only because he'd exhausted himself during the day... searching for his partner.

But for some reason, he trusted in what the woman in his vision told him. He'd find Sandburg tomorrow. Lying back down in the bed, Ellison closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles to help him go back to sleep. He'd need all the rest he could get tonight for the marathon conversation he intended to have with his errant partner tomorrow.

Major Crime Bullpen, Next Morning

Ellison almost had a bounce in his step as he exited the elevator on the floor housing his department. His chest wound felt much better this morning, but he still wore the sling, mainly for sympathy from the others in the office. Glancing at his watch, 7:30 a.m., he knew that it would take at least two to three hours to get to the resort area the woman had mentioned in his dream. That meant he could explain the situation to Simon and get some things on his desk cleaned up before he left to go find Blair.

"Hey, Ellison!" Henri Brown called, striding across the room as he saw the detective enter. "Didn't expect you in, man. How are you doing?"

"Good, H. Some stiffness, probably due to the rain and not up to full mobility, but its getting there." Jim gave a small demonstration of trying to move his bound arm and winced dramatically in pain. He got the reaction he wanted. Brown practically jumped forward to help him remove and hang his damp coat.

"Hey, Jim. Any further word from Sandburg?" Joel Taggart asked, coming up to the duo.

"Uh, no, not really. Has their been any word on the APB on Basil Westerly?"

Taggart frowned. "No, but we've got the uniforms on the alert. Forensics did find some home made GHB in the cabinet."

"Home made? Where would you find the recipe for something like that?"

Brown supplied the answer. "The Internet. There are some illegal sites out there that give very detailed information on how to cook the stuff. Problem is, even as fast as sites like those get shut down, others spring up. Sick!"

Taggart nodded in agreement. "That stuff is illegal here now and that means we have one good charge of possession to throw at him. Once we get testimony from Sandburg and the couple that helped him, that should nail the case down against him."

"Thanks, Joel. Is the Captain in?" Ellison looked towards Banks office, but couldn't see anything with the shades all closed.

"Connor is in there with him concerning the guy that got away the other night. The fingerprints in the van were mostly of the driver. Since he's still on the critical list, we can't get to him for interrogation."

"Any other prints?"

~ahem~ "Well, that's the bad news that Connor is giving the Captain," Brown interjected when he saw Taggart hesitate. "The only other prints belong to Councilwoman Simpson's son, Terrance."

Ellison flinched. "Ouch! Our biggest critic's son is a prime suspect for a series of crimes that she's been haranguing us on a daily basis. I'm glad I'm one of the low people on the totem pole."

"You and me both," Taggart agreed sourly. "I'm not sure if Simon's going to be the bearer of bad news or try to pass the buck upstairs. If we could have only caught him in the act, we could have had little Terrance call her with his one phone call."

Ellison grimaced. If he hadn't of zoned when he'd lost the connection with Sandburg for the third time, they might have caught both of the guys. "I better go in and take some of the heat she's probably getting. It was my fault that the guy got away."

He could see the questions hovering in Taggart's expression, but turned quickly towards the office to prevent them from being asked. Joel would want to know how it was his fault, did it involve his senses and is that why Sandburg disappeared from the hospital. Jim wasn't prepared to answer those. Not for a long while... if ever.

As he neared the door, Ellison could easily hear the Captain asking if there was anything else forensics was able to get from the crime scene. Connor answered in the negative and started listing the things there were found. The information wasn't promising. Lifting his good hand, Ellison rapped the door twice, then opened it when he heard Banks say 'come in.'

"Morning, Captain. Connor. I heard who the other fingerprints in the van belonged to." Jim turned his attention to Megan. "What about the materials in the truck? Were they homemade explosives?"

"The one large barrel was full of an accelerant and there were a couple of bottles sitting in a box full of the same material and some empty canisters. According to the background check on the driver, he's just a local with a minor record." Connor flipped through the file she was holding.

"Which could mean that he was just a hired flunky. Any word on his condition?" Banks interrupted.

"The hospital staff said they would call us when he regained consciousness. But in case they accidentally forget, I've asked the officer assigned to guard him to let us know if he does."

"Captain, it's my fault that the other guy got away. I'd like to check over the van myself to see if I can find anything more to build a stronger case against Simpson," Ellison spoke up quietly. His confession stunned Banks into silence.

"Would... do you mind if I'm with you when you look over the van," Connor hesitated in asking her question, remembering how Ellison blew up the last time she offered to help.

Ellison looked calmly into her eyes, judging her intent. "Thanks, Connor. I wouldn't mind having you 'help' me out."

When the silence in the office appeared to hang on too long, Banks cleared his throat. "Uh, have you heard from Sandburg, Jim?"

"He... hasn't called me. Connor, I need to talk to the Captain for a minute. Why don't you head on down to the garage and I'll be down in just a minute." Seeing the silent message pass between the two men, Connor mumbled a 'right' and left the office. She glanced back once after closing the door, then walked towards the elevator. Ellison watched her exit until his attention was brought back to the room by Banks.

"Okay, what did you find out that you couldn't tell me with Connor in the room? Did you hear from him?"

Jim squirmed in his chair. "Well, not exactly."

"Damn it, Jim! Quick hemming and hawing around. One of my detectives, your partner, disappears from the hospital, almost gets himself kidnapped by some strange book seller, and disappears with a woman who has a record of helping out federal agencies." Banks smiled as Ellison's head came up over the last part. Pushing aside some papers, he pulled out a manila folder. "That's right. Veronica Charbonneau and a Doug Turner have classifications with the FBI as special investigators. As to what type of investigations they are called in for, that is coded classified."

"I can just guess what they are called in to investigate. I had a visit from her last night." Ellison held up a hand to stop the question Banks was going to ask. "No, she didn't come to the loft. She was in my dream."

"Your what?"

~sigh~ "My dream. I'd been asleep for about an hour when I... found myself back down in Peru. You remember the cavern where Sandburg and I left you to go on to the temple?" At Banks' nod, he continued. "I was back there and this fox appeared on the trail. When I followed it, I was led to the clearing near the temple and the fox changed into Charbonneau. She told me where they are, but asked that I not show up until this afternoon. Seems that she's been able to help him, but needs a little more time."

Banks sat back in his chair and studied the man in front of him. Ellison seemed calmer this morning. "Have you tried that thing you two have?"

Simon's question startled Jim. He hadn't tried to check the bond this morning, probably because the earlier inability to feel anything but the most minute energy along it upset him. Relaxing in his chair, he closed his eyes and reached for the bond. It was there... with a lot more strength than it had had the day before. There was also something a little different about it but he'd figure that out later. A smile spread across his face.

"I take it that you are reconnected," Banks stated the obvious, smiling with the other.

"It's back to its normal strength." Jim stood up and walked over to the window. "I can feel it leading off towards the bay. Last night, Charbonneau told me they were at a resort near Lake Cushman."

"And you'd like this afternoon off to go over there." At Jim's expectant look, Simon nodded. "Do I need to go there, too?"

"Only if you want to, Simon. Ms. Charbonneau 'explained' some things to me and-"

"That's all right. I've got work to do, so I'll stay here," Simon said quickly. Hearing about the supernatural stuff involving two of his detectives tended to make him feel uncomfortable and he really wasn't up to hearing more unless he had several cold beers in front of him. "Now get out of my office and get some work done before you leave. You might want to get down to the garage before Connor gets all the glory of finding the evidence we need to wrap the arson cases." Banks turned his attention to the work sitting in front of him, effectively dismissing Ellison as he walked out of the office.

Closing the door behind him, Jim felt for his bond with Blair. It felt very comforting being able to have full contact back with his friend. Somehow, he intended to find a way in which Blair would never be able to block him off again.

Lake Cushman Resort, Same Day

It was the smell of fresh baked muffins that brought Blair awake in the early dawn. Stretching in the comfortable bed he was lying, he reviewed what had happened the previous day. I feel like I had raced in a triathlon, but I also feel like I won the race. Getting 'grounded' has made everything feel right. There's no headache to even speak about. Maybe...

Cautiously, Blair reached for his bond with Jim and allowed the link to 'open' enough to feel his partner. A slight ache appeared in his shoulder and Blair knew that was from the bullet wound and subsequent surgery. Guilt and remorse flooded through him. It had been his fault that Jim had been shot and it had only been pure luck that he hadn't been killed.

Gotta let it go. Send those negative vibes away and think about the good that has come from this. Because of what happened, I was able to find a great teacher who has helped me get the control that will prevent something like that from happening in the future. Now, what can I do to get out of the Ellison doghouse for running away to do this? He has to be in a majorly pissy mood by now.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Veronica. "I know you're awake in there, Blair. Come on and get something into you. We've still got some work to do before your friend shows up."

Blair sat up abruptly in the bed. "You called him?" he almost squeaked out.

"Not exactly. Get dressed and be out in five and I'll tell you the whole conversation." Soft footsteps went away from the door.

Blair was out of the room in less than one minute, running his fingers through his hair to get some semblance of order from the unruly curls. He didn't bother to do anything more than dress but he had to find out just what had been told to Jim and how the man took the meeting with the woman that had been hiding him.

"Is Jim all right? Where did you talk to him? What did he say? Was he-" Blair had barely reached the kitchen table before he asked his questions.

"Time out, my friend. Get a glass of juice, some coffee or tea and something to eat." Veronica blurted out to interrupt the stream of questions.

Blair opened his mouth to argue his need to know the answers, but saw the determined look in the woman's eyes. Snapping his mouth shut, he walked to the cabinet, pulled out a glass and poured apple juice in it from the pitcher sitting on the counter. Then, grabbing a warm muffin and a napkin, he went back around the table and sat down. Placing the items he was carrying down, he leaned back into the chair and folded his arms.

With a sigh of exasperation, Veronica pulled out a chair and sat across from her student. "Okay. I did talk to your friend last night, but it was in his dream. While checking out the spirit planes, I was met by an older, Native American man who led me to that place in the jungle you visualized to get grounded."

"That had to be Professor Tallman," Blair interrupted. "He was killed last year trying to help Jim and me. He's visited me twice now and was the one that told me that I had to find a teacher and fast."

Veronica frowned at Blair and looked at the muffin sitting in front of him. When he broke it apart and started eating, she continued. "Well, that answers that question. I knew he was more than just another shaman walking the planes. He had too much power. Anyway, I was able to talk to Jim. He is okay and I convinced him that you were doing just fine and not to show up until later today."

"And he agreed? Jim's never been one to exhibit a high level of patience." That caused an outburst of laughter from the living room area that was rewarded with a scowl from Veronica.

"I don't need any comments from the cheap seats, Douglas." Turner had wandered out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a book after Blair had left his room. An unrepentant 'yes, dear' floated back. "Anyway, we need time this morning to assess your abilities and work on your barriers."

"Barriers. And those are..."

"Hmmm. What can I use to explain this right?" Veronica frowned and dropped her eyes to her coffee cup. When she looked back up, it was with an amused gleam. "Did you ever watch Star Trek?"

"The original series or one of the later ones?"

"Doesn't make any difference. Think of barriers similar to the shields on one of those starships. You can build them to protect you from anyone trying to break into your mind."

Blair's mouth dropped open. "People can actually do that? I thought that only happened on the TV shows."

"People can and do erect barriers for protection. Why do you think there are those that can't be hypnotized?" Veronica set her cup down and folded her hands in front of her. "Before you leave here today, you are going to have a very strong barrier set up so that people like Basil Westerly won't be able to 'see' what you have or be able to tap into it."

A shudder ran through Blair as he considered what could have happened to him. Memories of how he had felt with the drug the bookstore owner gave him and the look on the man's face as he succumbed to it flashed across his mind. A warm hand taking hold of his own brought him back to his surroundings. "Let's get started. I want to know how to protect myself." Popping the last of the muffin in his mouth, he washed it down with the last of the juice and stood up.

Raising an eyebrow, Veronica also stood and gestured towards the living room. Seeing them enter, Doug closed his book and stood up. Without a word, he walked over to Veronica, gave her a quick kiss, threw a mock salute to Blair, then walked out of the cabin.

"You know the first part of the drill," Veronica uttered softly, watching her significant other leave. When the door was firmly closed, she turned her attention back to Blair. He was sitting down onto the floor in front of the coffee table, lighting the candle. She smiled at his eagerness. "Get yourself grounded and centered first."

With more ease than he expected, Blair became relaxed and, concentrating on the candle, did as he was requested. Veronica gave him a confident smile and seated herself across from the table.

"Great job. With enough practice, you'll be doing that unconsciously," she complimented Blair, causing a soft flush to appear on his features. "Close your eyes and picture a solid wall being formed around your mind. It's transparent so that you can see through it, but it's stronger than steel. You can make it so that your connection to your friend is the only thing allowed to pass through the barrier."

Startled, Blair opened his eyes back up. She saw the bond! Seeing a wink come from the sparkling, green eyes across from him, he chuckled and closed his once again. As instructed, Blair imagined the wall and had it form a dome over him. Within the dome, he placed the column he used as his ground.

No sooner than having erected it, he felt something bounce against it. In fear, he automatically strengthened the barrier. There were a few more impacts against it that only strengthened his resolve to maintain the wall. He was about to send a mental call for help when a gentle hand on his arm and a soft, warm presence in his head brought his attention back to the living room.

"I don't believe you." Veronica was staring incredulously at Blair when he became aware of his surroundings. "After yesterday, I thought for sure it was going to take hours of practice for you to build a descent barrier. What happened?"

"I don't know. Just didn't want anything to break through. Didn't I do it right?"

"Did you... Good Lord, Blair! I threw everything I had in my power at you and your barrier didn't even quiver. You've probably had them in the past, which is why no one has really noticed your ability. I think we can say that school is out for now and wait until your friend shows up. You can practice putting the barrier up and taking it down a few times until you feel comfortable, but I think you know what you're doing. Before we're finished, I'd like to check something about your ability. Would you relax and let me in for just a minute or two? I promise that it won't hurt."

Blair nodded and, as the woman placed her hands upon his arms, he allowed the barrier he had created to lessen. Veronica's mental touch was gentle, as she promised, and was only briefly in his mind. Before she left, he felt her briefly 'touch' his bond with Jim and then she was gone. It was her warm laughter that brought him back to his surroundings.

Veronica was lying on her back, away from the coffee table. She had her arms wrapped around her body to hold her shaking stomach.

"What's the matter? What did you find?" Blair's voice cracked slightly with the fear he was beginning to feel.

"Nothing ~ha ha~ that you ~ha~ should worry about." Pulling herself back up, Veronica wiped her eyes as she calmed her wild mirth. "Ah, sorry about that. It's just that Basil would have wasted his time trying to use you. You're keyed." She burst back into laughter with those last words.

Blair chuckled hesitantly at her words, then pushed back from the table, leaned against the couch behind him with his arms crossed and waited. It didn't take long. Veronica quickly pulled herself together when she saw the irritated expression growing on Blair's face.

"I'm sorry. It is just so ironic that you have this immense amount of power and ability in you and nobody can use it but you and only for yourself and your friend. You're bound to each other in a way that I've never seen before, which means that he's the only person you can channel to with your power. It is the most effective security around."

"Isn't that the way it's supposed to be? What about you?" Confusion flooded across Blair's face.

"I'm not keyed to Doug or anyone." At Blair's confused look, Veronica explained further. "You've heard about faith healers, haven't you? Those who do the 'laying on of the hands' to heal others?" At Blair's slow nod, she continued. "What they are doing is taking power from within themselves and sending it into another to help their bodies heal. You told Doug that you had helped Jim over a hangover by channeling energy into him. It's the same thing only you are keyed, bound to your friend, so that he is the only one who can receive. No matter what Basil tried, he never could have used your power."

"But why me and not you?"

"You told me that you were passed the way of the shaman a couple of years ago. And then you two went down to Peru and worked with a shaman together. I never did that. From the onset of my abilities, I've used them in working with several people, at least until I found Doug. But you bound yourself to your friend from the start, Blair. And with that, no one can use your abilities. Definitely not Basil."

"And Charlie Walker wouldn't have been able to either," Blair mumbled softly, but Veronica heard him. He saw her raise an eyebrow at his words. "The case Jim and I were on last year. This grad student was killing people to take their special gifts. He was going to take over Jim's body after he 'took' my abilities." Blair gestured quotes with his fingers.

Veronica gave Blair a confident grin. "You were able to stop him."

"Guess it was me. I always thought it had been the professor that had given Jim the strength to beat the drug in his system. Oh, man!" he exclaimed. "Wait 'til I tell him. Wait. What is this ability I have? Westerly said something about being a healer."

"That is there. I would suspect that despite some very serious injuries, your partner has shown the ability to heal fairly rapidly." Blair nodded, his expression one of wonder. "That has probably been because of your connection. Unconsciously, you channel energy to him to help him heal. But your ability is to also provide the energy to your friend and power yourself. You need to have a sufficient amount to be able to walk the spirit planes for one thing."

"What can I do there?"

"To meet with your friend, for one thing. He has traveled them frequently, from what I was able to deduce last night, but he just considers them dreams. But the planes are the place to search out knowledge and guidance from others who walk along them."

Blair smiled in understanding. "Sort of like a place for having teachers' conferences to solve problems we used to have with students or the curriculum we were being asked to teach."

"Exactly." Standing up, Veronica walked over to Blair and offered him a hand up. "How's your head?"

"Just a small headache. Nothing to really worry about."

"Well, the stuffiness of this place has started to give me a good one. It looks like the rain has stopped for a while. Why don't we take a walk to get refreshed and you can tell me more about the why of this connection you have and what else you've done. Student to teacher confidentiality applies."

Blair opened the front door and allowed Veronica to exit first. "I hope you're patient because it's a very long story. I was a grad student and teaching fellow at Rainier University...."

Later That Afternoon

Although it was only about 3:30 p.m., the sky was already beginning to darken. Of course, the dense clouds hovering off to the west might have been the main reason for the fast approach of the evening. As Jim parked in the near empty lot in front of the main lodge of the resort, he automatically opened his senses to the surrounding area.

From the building he faced, he heard three people. Two were females, up on the second level, discussing plans for the upcoming holidays. The third was an older man, talking on the telephone. Not hearing any others, Ellison turned his attention towards the wooded area around him.

There. Like a bright beacon on the fog, the warm tones of Blair's voice pulled him toward the trail to his left. He was explaining how he had previously helped Jim get over his hangover after spending a night on the town with Simon and an Army buddy. Jim smiled as he heard a female voice scold his friend over such a careless action. She was almost using the same words he had used in telling Blair off.

Talking off the sling and setting it down onto the seat, Ellison climbed out of the truck and closed the door. He honed into the voices and followed them up the trail, concentrating so intently on the direction they were coming from that he didn't notice the antique BMW coasting into the same parking lot. It's engine and lights were turned off and it stopped on the far side of the lot. When Ellison's form disappeared on the trail, the driver side door opened and Basil Westerly stepped out.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Blair? Even with as much experience as I have, I don't use my ability without having someone covering me. Mainly Doug, since he knows the signs of when I'm reaching my limit." Veronica was perched on a fallen log, her attention focused on the young man sitting on the ground across from her.

Blair was on a relatively dry rock, leaning back against a tree with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He was listening to his teacher, but also following her earlier guidance on ridding a headache. As the last echo of pain faded from his brow, he 'felt' a soft tug along his bond with Jim and smiled.

"This is not a laughing matter, Blair," Veronica groused, misinterpreting the expression.

Opening his eyes, Blair's smile widened. "Sorry, Roni. Believe me, I'm not taking lightly what you're telling me. We've got company."

"Better not be taking it lightly, Chief." Ellison's voice preceded him out of the trees. He walked into the clearing and over to his friend. "I agree with her completely."

Veronica flashed a knowing, but pleased grin at the two men. Blair had recognized the presence of his partner before the other had made himself known. Another promising accomplishment for her student.

"Hey, Jim. It's good to see you, man. How's the wound?" Blair reached a hand up to his friend.

"I'm better now, buddy." Jim complied with the gesture, clasping the appendage and pulling the smaller man up. The two stood looking at each other; Blair using his eyes and Jim his senses to check each other out. A soft drizzle starting to fall didn't phase the reunion. Finally, it was the sound of a throat clearing that broke the silent communion, causing both men to turn towards the forgotten observer.

"Oh, sorry. Veronica, this is my friend and partner, Detective Jim Ellison. Jim this is-"

"Veronica Charbonneau. Nice to finally meet you... in the flesh." Jim stepped away from Blair and over to the seated woman. Unconsciously, he had placed himself in a defensive posture between his friend and the seated woman.

As Blair stepped forward to stand to the right and slightly behind his friend, the smug grin was gone from Veronica's face. Taking a quick rub at her eyes, she stared at the pair in front of her. Alone, the hue of the aura she had seen surrounding Blair was one of power, tinged with the green of a healer. The one around Ellison was faint and of a softer cast. But even before the two had joined hands, the two auras meshed in harmony and became a solid deep gold tone that surrounded them both. It didn't fade after they broke contact.

Veronica's smile returned. She'd witnessed what few had the chance to see; the reconnecting of two souls that were meant to be together. There wasn't anything sexual in the partnership, of that she was positive. But the two men were two parts of one coin and their souls had probably been together through many lifetimes. That they were able to connect properly in this one gave her a feeling of satisfaction. She slowly stood up and made sure that her actions didn't look threatening. "It is very nice to finally meet you, Detective."

"Jim, please." Ellison gave her his patented smile. It was tinged with a little caution, but he didn't feel that the woman in front of him was any danger to himself or Sandburg.

"Okay, Jim. While I have heard a lot about you, I can tell that it is not nearly the whole story. But this is not the place to tell it. Could you use a good cup of coffee?" Veronica asked, gesturing in the direction of the cabin.

The sound of a gun shot from that direction startled the three. Ellison's hand automatically strayed towards the gun he had tucked in the holster at his back. Blair glanced momentarily at his friend, but his attention was drawn to Veronica. There was a look of horror on her face.

"Doug," she whispered and took off in a dead run in the direction of the gunfire. Jim was right behind her. He was able to grab her arm and pull her down to the ground before she cleared the trees in front of her cabin.

"Wait!" Ellison hissed. After he heard Blair come up behind him and drop down to his side, he extended his hearing around the area. He picked up Westerly's voice.

"Turn about, Witch. Maybe next time you won't interfere," he heard the British voice comment quietly from the back of the cabin, followed by the crunching noise of someone walking through some shrubbery then falling silent.

"Jim?" Blair questioned softly; knowing his Sentinel was listening to something.

"Its Westerly. He must have followed me here coming after you, Chief," Jim whispered back. He then focused his hearing back into the area when he heard a painful groan. "Someone is hurt back there."

"The bastard shot Doug," Veronica growled and tried to stand up again, only to be pulled back down. She glared at Jim.

"He did it to get at you. Right now he's waiting for you to take the bait he's tossed out." Ellison shook the arm he held. "Do you really want to give him what he wants?"

A small amount of the anger faded from Veronica's face as she shook her head negatively. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

"I've got what he really wants and I'm positive that he'd never do anything to hurt me, Jim," Blair spoke up. "Let's try our own type of trolling."

Ellison stared into his friend's face, trying to gauge his intent. All he saw was calm determination. Lifting his pant leg, he drew out his backup pistol and handed it to Sandburg. With a nod, the younger man tucked the weapon into his right pocket and stood up. He had only taken one step when he heard Veronica hiss at him.

"Don't let him know you have control. He'll be cockier if he thinks you're still the innocent," she advised. Blair gave her a knowing grin and relaxed. She 'saw' that his aura seemed to shine brighter as he left the cover of the bushes and trotted around the side of the cabin.

Giving Veronica a touch on the arm, Jim began his trek around the edge of the clearing. He traveled in the opposite direction that his partner went, moving as silently as a stalking predator. Veronica followed closely behind, equally as silent.

Blair trotted cautiously around the cabin until he was in sight of Turner's crumpled form. The man was lying curled over on his side, his back towards Blair. Dropping caution, he ran the final distance and dropped to his knees. Feeling along the man's neck, he found a pulse and released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Taking the injured man gently by the shoulders, Blair carefully turned him over onto his back. Blood was spreading from a wound on his lower right side.

"Hey, Doug. Can you hear me?" Blair asked, pressing his palm firmly onto the wound to stem the flowing blood. His action was answered by an agonizing moan. "Take it easy, man. We'll get you some help."

Blair was concentrating so hard on helping the older man that he didn't hear Westerly come up from behind. He gave a squeak of surprise when the back of his jacket was roughly grabbed and he was jerked away from Turner. Looking up, he saw Westerly standing over him with a maniacal grin on his face.

"Fancy meeting you here. Where is she?" Westerly asked menacingly.

Blair didn't have to pretend to be afraid. The insane look on the man's face was frightening. "Sh...she went into town. She should be back anytime now."

Looking quickly around the area, Westerly gestured for Sandburg to stand up. "Get up. You're coming with me, young man."

Blair slowly stood up, wiping the blood from his hands onto his jeans. He took a hesitant step back from Westerly, only to freeze when the man raised the pistol he was holding and pointed it towards Blair's stomach.

"You bastard!" Veronica's voice screamed from behind Westerly, causing him to turn around violently. He saw the woman running at him with murder in her eyes.

Before he could aim and fire, another voice, a strong male baritone, yelled from his left. "Freeze! Cascade P.D."

Basil swung around towards Ellison and then froze when he felt the cold metal of a pistol barrel jab into his neck. The loud snap of the hammer being locked back rang in his ears.

"The man said freeze," Blair growled.

Realizing that he had no where to go, Westerly slowly raised his hands away from his body and allowed the pistol in his right hand to swing loose on the finger stuck through the trigger guard. The pistol stayed jammed in his neck until he was relieved of his weapon by Ellison. Only then did Sandburg pull his gun back and step away.

"On the ground," Ellison ordered and pulled out his handcuffs. He felt a little satisfaction when he heard Westerly grunt at the tightness in which he had cinched the cuffs. Certain that the man wasn't going to be going anywhere, Ellison turned his attention to the pair bent over the injured man.

"How's he doing," Jim asked, pulling out his cell phone and dialing 911.

"Pretty serious," Blair answered, his hands once again pressing down on the wound. "The bleeding is slowing, but he's already lost a lot of blood. Roni?" Blair looked over at the red-haired woman and saw that she had one hand on Turner's chest and the other resting against his cheek. Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep.

"Ambulance is on the way," Jim announced, closing up the cell phone and tucking it back into a pocket. He knelt down beside Blair and felt the injured man's neck. The pulse was strong and steady.

"Keep an eye on her, Jim. If she starts breathing rough or turning pale, pull her away." Blair advised.

"What's she doing?" Her expression was similar to the one he had seen on Blair once.

"Giving him part of her strength, I suppose. Sort of what I did for you when you had the hangover."

Understanding, Jim split his attention between Doug and Veronica, noticing that their breathing was similar and their heart rates matched.

When the ambulance and a police cruiser arrived, the two detectives had to physically pull Veronica away from Doug's body to allow the paramedics to work. Blair also held her back when she started to walk over towards Westerly, her anger clearly showing on her face. The man was standing between two uniformed officers, glaring at the pair.

"He's not worth it, Roni. The man has lost more than he even knows." At the woman's startled look, Blair smiled. "Watch."

With little concentration, Blair brought his mental barrier back up. To Veronica's eyes, the aura she could easily see faded down to almost nothing. Looking over at Westerly, she saw the man's eyes widen in shock and then crumple in anguish. The policemen pulled the dejected man around and started to lead him to a waiting patrol car. One stopped briefly and handed Ellison back his handcuffs as the detective passed by.

"They're about ready to transport," Ellison informed Veronica, as he walked up to the pair. "He's stable and starting to come around."

"Thank you. Blair, I'll be in touch to continue your training as soon as Doug recovers. And Jim," Veronica had seen the apprehensive look appear in the tall man's bright, blue eyes, "you really need to be there, too. You're a matched set." Giving Blair's cheek a light caress, she turned and trotted over to the gurney being loaded in the ambulance and climbed in with it.

"What did she mean by that?" Ellison asked, watching the scene at the ambulance.

"Which that?"

"The 'matched set' reference. What did she mean?"

"Oh, that." Blair grinned at the exasperated look Jim gave him. "Do you remember how I tried to help McLin when he was dying? I told you that nothing happened." Ellison nodded. "Well, it seems that you are the only one I can help with my ability."

"How's that?"

"Well, either Incacha made it that way when he passed the way of the shaman to me or..." His embarrassed pause caused Jim to raise an eyebrow. "Well, Roni thinks that we did it down in Peru. Us pledging our bond sort of connected us in more ways than one. She called it becoming 'keyed' only to you. Which is okay with me, man. I mean, now we don't have to worry anymore about some crazy pulling a whammy and trying to steal what I've got. Of course, I've got to make sure that no one can see what we have and that means that I need to continue getting training from her and-"

"Chief?" Blair paused at the interruption. "Take a breath every now and then, will you? I'm not worried about you getting training from her. I just want to know when you're going to do it so that I can be there. Where are you going?" Jim asked when Blair started walking toward the cabin. The young man stopped and turned back to his friend.

"Just back into the cabin to make sure everything is off and lock up. We can't just take off and leave the place wide open." As he started to turn again, Jim reached forward and grabbed his left arm. Blair was startled by the feel of a handcuff being locked down onto his wrist.

"What are you doing, Jim?" Blair asked, bewildered as Jim locked the other side onto his own right wrist.

"Just making sure that you don't disappear on me again. After we lock the place up, I think it is time we go to find someplace quiet and have a really long conversation about you breaking your promise to me." With an initial tug, Ellison started pulling Sandburg in the direction of the cabin.

"Come on, Jim. It was necessary. I was causing you to zone, man." Blair half-heartedly tried to drag his heels, but was pulled forward again.

"And we should have worked on it together. Are you my partner or not?"

Blair jerked Jim to a halt, making the other man swing around sharply. "Yes, damn it, I am your partner. I am your friend and I am also your roommate." With that statement, Blair raised an eyebrow as if to send Jim a challenge. The other just stared. "Most importantly, I am your shaman and I now have the ability to control what I have. But now, and in the future, I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe."

Ellison's eyes searched Sandburg's face and noted the tenacious resolve. The anger he had tried to keep alive died quickly and he gave the smaller man a quick grin. With a gentle tug on the handcuff, he started the two moving forward again.

Blair shook his head, chuckled and followed Jim. If his partner needed to get back the control he felt had been taken away, then Blair would let him. "Can we just go back to the loft after here to talk? I've been thinking about you developing your Sentinel abilities when you did and then them being suppressed until you could meet me, which is a really fascinating theory involving time and destiny as it applies to me being ready to step in and help you get control..."

Blair opened the door of the cabin, continuing to ramble in full teaching mode. Ellison followed, mainly due to the handcuffs attaching the two, but with a satisfied expression on his face. His partner was back where he was supposed to be and all was right with the world.

The End

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