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 sea