Audrey Lynne
What a day.
I'm sure I reintroduced a few people to the concept of 'mana' yesterday -- real, raw supernatural power than anyone can reach out and touch. Some call it luck, some attribute it to the grace of whatever higher power they choose to place their faith in. I've heard of the mana concept before, of course, and Blair was lecturing his students on it just the other day. But yesterday, it was around for sure -- and in spades! It's such a rush.
Allow me to explain. It all started quite innocently, you see -- but then, what doesn't?
Blair was driving his convertible, and I was in the passenger's seat. Jamie was in the back, and the top was down. It was one of the few non-rainy days in Cascade, and the weather was just beautiful. It would have been a shame NOT to have put the top down.
The car wasn't new, but it hadn't seen decent usage for awhile. See, about two years ago, this bitch named Alex faked Blair's death and kidnapped him. If I get started on that, though, I'll be ranting for hours. The point is, he's back now, and sort of getting reacclimated to his life. Which included getting his old car back. Gotta love Naomi; the car went to her after Blair's "death", but she never had the heart to sell it. So getting it back was a fairly simple deal. The tough part was convincing the legal beagles and pretty much every government agency that a man considered legally dead for two years is actually very much alive.
Anyway, on with the tale. Jamie and Blair were in the middle of some Sandburgian discussion I'd long before stopped trying to follow. Even though she's just ten, that kid is sharp -- and that, combined with the general weirdness of the 'Sandburg Zone' keeps life around these parts interesting. I might as well have not been there.
We were only about four blocks from the loft when it happened. Some drunk idiot came out of freaking nowhere after running a red light. Blair saw him, but didn't have enough time to react beyond trying to turn his car out of the drunk's path. I knew the impact was coming; I even tried to brace myself for it. But it shocked me just the same, and I knew it did the same to the car's other occupants. Damn drunk fool was of course unscathed, and he beat it. We weren't quite as lucky. Being somewhat unsecured at the time in a car with no top, I found myself unceremoniously deposited on the pavement several feet from the car. I really hate the laws of physics; they're terribly inconvenient. Blair was twisting backwards to see if his daughter was all right, and the side of his head impacted the steering wheel, knocking him out; a piece of glass from the broken windshield cut a nasty gash across his cheek.
And, Jamie... I still shiver thinking of that moment. I wasn't hurt, and I also outweigh the kid, at least when I'm in corporeal form. It didn't matter that no one saw me; I still had substance in this world. Jamie, naturally, was very much in touch with the world she lived in. While I have a choice in the matter, those irritating laws of physics always apply to her. When her seatbelt ripped, the laws of physics determined that her velocity, which previously had been the same as the vehicle's, was going to keep her going until an unmovable object or some other outside force stopped this trajectory. An object in motion stays in motion and all that. With no roof on the car, the object was going to be the pavement. And since a kid's head weighs more proportionally, she was almost certainly going to land in an inverted fashion. As in, on her head. Now I'm no medical doctor, but I couldn't think that this would be a good plan. Even having a cat as an animal spirit wouldn't have done her much good at that point, and I happen to know hers is a fox. Cute little ball of fluff, friendly, a bit hyper. But I digress. The point was, she was going to land on her head and this was going to be a bad thing. So... I had to substitute myself for the unmovable object -- though, technically, since I do move quite well, I was an 'outside force'.
I jumped up, and JUST managed to snag the back of her shirt. I let her legs hit the ground; a little road rash was a manageable condition. I managed to twist her back a little bit so that I hit the ground before she did, letting her upper body land on me. Protect the vital organs and all.
Now, you have to understand, all of this happened before I really had a chance to think about it. Instinct really is a beautiful thing. I would have been feeling this abuse to my own body in the morning, but I don't experience pain from this world. Gotta love that feature. They figured, I suppose, that if we spirit guides had to deal with that, we might get distracted licking our wounds at a critical moment. Like, right then.
Jamie wrapped her arms around my neck, burying her face in the fur there. She was frightened, scratched, and a bit bruised, but she was okay otherwise. "Thank you." She seemed to understand what had happened. At some point, I'd quit concentrating and revealed myself to the world; it takes less energy than hiding or selective revelation. Being a wolf, and hoping that no one was going to call Animal Control, I couldn't exactly respond with words. I settled for licking her face.
That was when Thor showed up. You know, for a jaguar, he has an amazing repertoire of facial expressions, especially considering he had an orange fuzz ball of a fox hanging from his teeth by the scruff of her neck.
Thor dropped Kit -- Jamie named her, don't ask me -- at my feet -- paws? -- and paused for a moment to groom one paw before talking to me. "Here, you take her. I've got to go handle Jim. He's in a bad mood already and this won't help when he finds out."
Great, what was I supposed to do? I picked Kit up and deposited her next to Jamie. "Stay here. Watch her." Wolf, spirit guide, babysitter... The job never ends; it just keeps changing. Next thing I know, I'll be thinking of that little furball as my pup. Hell, I already do.
With one of us at least immediately by Jamie's side, even if Kit did require some supervision -- she's still adjusting to the transitions between our world and theirs -- I trotted over to the car to check on Blair. Like I said, a spirit guide's work is never done.
He seemed okay. He was still out, and bleeding from that cut, but he was breathing all right. The paramedics were arriving anyway, so they would handle it.
I came back over to Jamie at the same time a paramedic did. She eyed me suspiciously. "Is that a wolf?! Better call Animal Control."
Wasn't gonna help, lady. They couldn't have kept me. But anything to avoid that unpleasantness. I was glad Kit was veiling herself from the world at large. We could possibly have explained me. The fox would have been harder. I nuzzled Jamie, and hoped she'd pick up on my cue.
"Oh, he's mine," Jamie said quickly. "He's our dog."
Good girl. Daddy was already teaching her the art of obfuscation, apparently. I normally hate being taken for a Husky, even if Blair named me after a silly stuffed one, but in this case I'd allow it. Anything to stay with my humans and avoid those damn capture collars. Been there, done that, wasn't impressed.
Anyhow, skip with me to the hospital. Everyone heard "ten year old thrown from car" and they're expecting the worst -- horrible injuries. They then receive one scratched and banged ten year old whose worst problem was that she was slightly traumatized. Some thanked the god of their choice, some shook their heads gratefully and clucked to themselves about how lucky Jamie was, even after hearing about the family dog breaking her fall -- or especially after hearing that part. There was some chatting about Blair, too; the accident was a nasty one and that gash on his cheek and his concussion were the only things wrong with him, really. He'd even come around just before the paramedics loaded him the ambulance.
I was "invisible" at that time, and curled up in the waiting room. I don't need to sleep, but I do like it, so I'd curled up and was about to drift off when I noticed Thor lazily perched on the filing cabinet that resembled a set of dresser drawers. "Yes?"
"'I'd move if I were you," he calmly advised.
I was glad I did, because Jim came tearing in right then, and would have tripped over me if I'd been there. He demanded answers, room numbers, condition reports -- I love the way this man takes charge. Not that Blair can't when he's needed to, you understand, but Jim's just one of those Type A personalities who does this sort of thing naturally. Whereas Blair's taking control can be better likening to someone grabbing Life and choking the stuffing out of it. He does it with flair.
"Don't ask questions, just don't get between Ellison and Sandburg," a young doctor murmured to the obviously new nurse. Good man. He'll go far.
By this time, they were stitching Blair's wound and they'd given him some lidocaine to numb the area. He tends to get spacey just looking at the stuff -- but mildly so, like someone who's drunk off not enough sleep. Still, it can be amusing. I thought I'd drop in -- revealing myself only to him. Since Blair was considered out of it, and Jim's got authority for Jamie's medical decisions, Jim was tied up in paperwork, albeit while cuddling the kid and listening to Blair with that Sentinel hearing of his. I figured Blair needed to know someone was around and in his corner.
"Nan? 'Zat you?"
What, he wanted me to say 'yes'? Only in Blue Light Land, pal. I bobbed my head, and put a paw over his hand.
"Know something?" he asked. Blair had been pretty calm since he'd found out Jamie was okay. I just gave him the impassive canine 'I'm listening' look, as opposed to Thor's typical feline 'I know things about you but I'm not going to name them right now so just open up to me already' look. He nodded and continued. "Rainy days and Mondays. They're s'posed to suck. Beautiful sunny Saturday... and it sucked."
They didn't know who he was talking to, but had already established that he was vaguely wasted, so they didn't really pay much attention to his ramblings.
The doctors decided to keep both Blair and Jamie overnight for observation. Jim agreed, but planned to sleep in the waiting room. Why was I not surprised? Thor and I eventually went back home, but we had to go back for Kit -- I swear she had been right behind us. She and I need to work on that transitions thing some more.
So that's where we are now. Thor's relaxing up in a tree as usual; I'm on the ground, thanks. Kit's dashing around, playing. Maybe this experiment about letting the guide grow up with the human wasn't such a bad plan. She is kinda cute. She'll mature eventually. Not too soon, I hope. Great, now I'm getting all parental. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. After all, it seems to be working for Blair well enough.
I take the opportunity to check up on our human charges. Jamie's dozing; Blair's holding her and stroking her hair lightly. Jim's watching them both, and probably thinking of a million 'what if' scenarios. Ah, well, that's Thor's deal. Blair and Jamie are safe and secure. Kit's chasing her own tail and probably won't be up for another lesson for a bit. I think I'll take a nap. After all, they've got a Sentinel in Blessed Protector mode on duty down there. They'll be fine.
~End~