Control Issues
Rated ADULT
Angst Ahead!

Chapters 36-40
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THIRTY SIX
***
"Eli?" Blair called softly as he stuck his head through the open door. The heavy cherry furniture and large windows with a view of Rainier's manicured lawns were unsubtle reminders of Eli's power both at Rainier and in the larger anthropological community; however, the piles of random papers and journals and dusty books showed just how little he cared.

"Blair?" Eli said as he looked up from his computer. He was a thin man, still holding on to the last of his athletic build, even now when he had to be approaching seventy. "Don't tell me you're here to give me the 'take care of my Sentinel or else' speech. I imagine Captain Ellison would be less than amused by any such gesture," he said with a smile, but the expression quickly faded as Blair came in the room and closed the heavy door.

"Blair?" he asked again, this time pushing back from his computer.

"They took him," Blair answered as he stepped into the room. The despair washed over him, leaving a cold fury behind.

"What? Who?"

"The SI," Blair snapped. "And it's bogus. I mean, this guy at work called them just because he's pissed at me because I busted a buddy of his. But I'm getting Jim back."

"Wait," Eli shook his head and came out from behind his desk. "Blair, if the SI took him, there has to be some sort of charge. Why did they take him?"

"Aldo told them I was putting him in danger. And those idiots came and put chains on him, and that is totally not fair." Blair sighed and let himself lean on the arm of a couch covered in boxes that spewed plastic packing material and tissue paper. "Man, I'm going to make Aldo sorry he ever picked up the phone. Just as soon as I get Jim back, I am so totally coming up with some sort of legal charges or an official complaint or something." Blair reached back and pulled the tie out of his hair so he could run his fingers through it.

"Oh my," Eli said as he shifted and rolled forward in his chair.

"Yeah, hey, I just wanted to let you know that Jim wasn't going to be able to do the whole interview thing today. I'm really sorry."

"I'm not really worried about that," Eli said slowly. Blair looked up and could see the worry on Eli's face.

"Hey, I'm getting him back. You don't have to look all worried because I'm so getting him back."

"Blair." Eli sighed and then stopped.

"What is it?" Blair asked, suddenly worried that there was something even worse going on with Eli, and Blair really wasn't up to much more stress right now.

"Blair, don't take this the wrong way, but have you taken any drugs today?" Eli asked with such a serious expression that for a second Blair could only blink in surprise.

"Have I what?"

"I fully understand stress, but if you…"

"No way," Blair interrupted, holding up a hand to keep Eli from saying anything else. "Man, no way would I risk losing Jim by showing up high. Why would you even think that?"

"I certainly didn't mean to upset you, but your eyes are quite dilated," Eli said quietly as he stood and came to the front of the desk, pushing a pile that threatened to fall closer to the center of the desk as he passed it.

"Oh man." Blair rubbed his hand over his face and retreated to the window where he could watch underclassmen wander the campus. He remembered when he'd first come to the university back when things looked so damn simple. His eyes were dilated. Bond stress. Blair nearly laughed as he considered just how much his world had changed since he was that 16 year old kid who knew everything on his first day of college. He'd been so sure he would have his PhD by 22 and be changing the world by 25. Instead, it seemed like the older he got, the less he knew about anything. Dilated eyes. Yeah, that figured. With his luck, the judge would take one look at Blair and order a drug test.

"If there's some sort of problem, you know I'll help."

"Eli," Blair said helplessly. He took a deep breath as he thought through his options. At the top of the list was eviscerate Aldo. Without him around, Blair would have Jim to talk this through with. Almost immediately, Blair felt that familiar doubt leech into his mind. Since when did he need to discuss his plans with someone else? Blair turned to face the office and leaned back against the cool glass.

"Eli, if I told you something really unbelievable, would you try to keep an open mind?" Blair chewed his lip and watched as Eli considered him in serious silence for a long moment.

"I would certainly try," Eli agreed solemnly as he leaned forward in his chair. "I have a very high opinion of your judgment, so I would at least consider anything you said."

"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have such a high opinion of my judgment because it's been pretty wrong for a very long time." Blair took a deep breath. Right. Now or never. He pushed aside a need, like spiders under his skin, to talk to Jim before taking a step like this, especially after they'd agreed that telling people was probably a pretty bad idea.

"When Jim lived with the tribe in Peru, the shaman told him that Sentinels could bond to anyone, but that some people, he called them Guides, actually bond in return."

Blair bit his lip and glanced up at Eli nervously. He really didn't want his mentor to think he'd lost his mind. Much to his surprise, Eli just nodded slowly.

"Burton's manuscript references the companion several times, and the Isandi diary certainly implies the partner has some sort of spiritual connection; however, most modern anthropologists have explained those through simple sexual dynamics. Sexual partners develop feelings for each other, even without the biological imperative of a true bond. However, like I've told you many times, good anthropologists challenge assumptions."

Blair felt the choking fingers of fear loosen as he realized that Eli wasn't just dismissing him.

"Man, this is more than sexual dynamics, especially since I haven't even gotten with the sex yet." The moment the words were out of his mouth, Blair felt himself blush deeply enough to make his whole face hot, but Eli just chuckled.

"Ignoring the sexual comment, do I take it that you see yourself as Captain Ellison's Guide?"

"Man, his stressed Guide. I haven't taken anything, but I imagine if we did some tests, I'd have all sorts of physical bond-stress symptoms. Eli, I sound like a nut, talking about myself having bond-stress when I'm not a Sentinel. Man, if Chancellor Edwards could hear me now, I would so be out on my ear."

Eli shook his head. "The Chancellor is so busy with the politics of the university that she has forgotten that research has any end other than providing an interesting topic for a fund-raising dinner. I'm not worried about her. Now, as for this revelation of yours--let's approach this like the scientists we are. The hypothesis is that Guides are biologically determined and capable of bonding. How do we test this theory of yours?" Eli asked calmly. Blair took a deep breath and allowed himself to see it as a scientific puzzle and not his own very twisted life.

"I did a ketosis test. Man, let's say that the SI would have a Sentinel on some good sedatives with those ketone levels," Blair said wryly.

"You've already tested yourself?" The mild curiosity of a second ago transformed into something more intense. "Proof of a reciprocal bond could open an entirely new field in Sentinel studies. Of course, with a sample of one, the results are little more than an anomaly, but if you truly have formed a secondary bond to a Sentinel, then surely others have as well." Eli stood up and grabbed a notepad off the top of one of the stacks on his desk. "If we sample long-term Sentinel-guardian pairs who have mutually high ratings, we should be able to determine a protocol for testing for a bond and bond strength, probably some variation on the testing done with Sentinels. We may need to publish preliminary work with just your recorded data before we can establish the need for testing."

"Whoa, hey, Eli," Blair interrupted slightly desperate to cut this off at the pass. Eli was actually freaking him out a little. "I'm not okay with that."

Eli blinked at him owlishly, and Blair cringed back from the disappointment he could feel from his mentor.

"Eli, I get it. I know this is big. But right now, I totally need to focus on Sentinels."

"Blair, the truth…"

"Hey, the truth will set you free. Totally. I get that. But the system sucks, Eli. If we prove Guides are biological, the system is going to just broaden out and suck more. My goal is to give Sentinels back their rights—"

"Not give the SI the power to deny another group their rights?" Eli finished. "Not give them power over you?"

Blair stopped and just stared at Eli who stood next to his desk, pen in hand.

"I suck," Blair admitted softly. "I sent how many people into the system? And yeah, it would be total karma if I ended up losing my rights to the SI."

"Blair, no!" Eli dropped the pen and paper on the desk and moved forward, his hand resting on Blair's shoulder. "You have done nothing except act in the best possible manner to protect human life. You have nothing to apologize for. I simply wished to make the point that you have a cause for fear, and fear can lead to irrational choices."

"Oh, I have a lot to apologize for, and I'm trying to atone for that. And yeah, there's fear in there too, but I think the guilt is outweighing the fear." Blair whispered his confession.

"Academic twelve step? You're going to admit you have a problem and then try to make it up to anyone you've affected?" Eli asked with a sad smile. "Blair, you aren't an alcoholic, and you don't have anything to atone for. However, the existence of biological Guides does impact Sentinel studies rather significantly. Have you considered the ramifications of this?"

"You mean the part where I could end up in the SI? Once or twice," Blair admitted. "And then there's the part where I wonder how much of my brain is hardwired because it's kinda freaky knowing that something primitive is pushing your emotional and hormonal buttons."

"Have you considered the impact of Guides on your Sentinel research? Your theory is that the SI is promoting a lack of control by removing responsibility."

"Totally. Man, learned helplessness would account for a wide range of anti-social behaviors seen in Sentinels, especially American Sentinels."

"Yes, but have you considered that one of the uncontrolled variables here might be the presence of a Guide?"

Blair shook his head even as Eli said it. "No way. Jim had his control long before he met me."

"Yes, but how does possessing a Guide affect control? And if a Guide can bond and maintain control, how can the SI deny the possibility that Sentinels could do the same?" Eli took a step back. "Blair, I'm appealing to the scientist in you. I know you are passionate about your research into Sentinels, but can you truly deny the possibility that research into Guides might be just as valuable? That is," Eli slid his glasses down and considered Blair over the top of them, "assuming that you are right and that Guides bond."

"Eli… I just…"

"When is Captain Ellison's hearing?"

Blair didn't answer right away, he struggled with a reason to just cut off this whole conversation, but he honestly couldn't come up with one. "Jim, he wanted you to call him Jim," Blair finally said. His brain chased the logic of Eli's argument through his brain without finding any holes, but a little part of his soul still shriveled away from the idea of drawing official attention.

"When is Jim's hearing?" Eli asked.

"Tomorrow. I stopped by to pick up some research. I know that the judge is going to throw the book at Aldo for using her court to get his petty revenge, but while we're there, I'm going to ask permission for Jim to do undercover work. A local thug thinks that Jim is a criminal who uses a removable collar to hide illegal activities."

"Oh. And does Aldo know that Jim has been talking to criminals?"

Blair snorted. "Hell, no. But really, it wasn't anything either of us planned, so the judge can't blame us either. But Jim could do a lot of good going undercover."

"And it might get that collar off him," Eli said gently. He sighed and turned back to his desk chair, settling into it slowly.

"Yeah. Man, I'm still not feeling good about the fact I helped them put it on him."

"I understand your concern, but Blair, you need to approach the work scientifically. You have a theory: Sentinels are capable of a high-level of self control. You have a second theory: the SI undermines their control. Jim can certainly give you anecdotal evidence, but if you want to change the system you need to focus that incredibly sharp mind of yours on finding these in-control Sentinels and recording the data."

Blair nodded as walked back to the couch. He pushed the packing materials away from a corner and sat. "I know. And Eli, I will help with the intake interviews at the SI and the follow up interviews. I will do all the testing of the identified Sentinels, and I will totally look the other way while Jim helps you with the runners."

"But you won't do your own research, and you really don't want me to pursue any research along the lines of Guides if it means pulling you in as a research subject," Eli summarized. He pulled his glasses off and rested his chin on his fist. "Blair, your decisions are not in the best interests of the science."

"But they are in the best interests of keeping Jim. If I'm doing something illegal, Aldo is going to bust me in two seconds flat, and if the SI starts looking at me, questioning my judgment because I have a bond, then Jim and I are going to end up under a microscope. Man, let me just say that our relationship is so not going to handle that."

"So, your concern is for Jim?" Eli asked. Blair nodded. "Okay, the second part I can easily address. Blair, I will not release your name or any identifying information. We have worked together long enough that I think I have earned your trust on that issue."

Blair cringed and focused on the decorative trim on the front of Eli's desk instead of looking at the man. "I know you'd protect a research subject. I totally didn't mean to imply you wouldn't."

"And as for the first part. You need to decide how you can best protect Jim, if that's your goal. Certainly, by acting within the constraints of the law you are protecting yourself from SI action, but if you want to convince society to give Jim more rights, you may need to take more risks."

Blair looked up at Eli, studying those blue-grey eyes that studied him right back. "Eli," he said helplessly.

"Young Mr. Sandburg," Eli started, a term he had first used on Blair when Blair was sixteen years old and staring wide-eyed at the campus. "You have choices, and you need to think about what you want and how you are going to get it."

"Man, you're playing dirty," Blair complained softly. He did want Jim to have the same rights as everyone else. And yeah, Sentinels who had learned to be helpless would probably still need the structure of the guardian system, but treating Sentinels like children shouldn't be the default position. And Blair didn't even want to think what sort of indignities and disrespect Jim was suffering back in the SI again. Blair could feel his heart start pounding at the thought.

"While I would like to say that fighting dirty is beneath me, it clearly isn't," Eli agreed. "Blair, the truth is always better than even a misguided attempt to try and control the flow of information. Researching the possibilities of Guides and Guide-bonds will not hurt Jim's chances at being recognized as a full citizen."

Blair sat back and stared at the ceiling. The anthropologist in him already agreed with Eli. But he couldn't avoid the small fear that at this point any knowledge would just end up twisted if the SI got a hold of it. And a huge part of him just wanted to talk this over with Jim since this really was his fight, his and the other Sentinels who could maintain self-control.

"We could do some tests with you this afternoon, see if we can get an MRI over at the hospital even. I would have you home in time for a good night's sleep, and tomorrow you can go get Jim back."

"Man, am I this pushy when I'm trying to get someone to work with me?" Blair asked with a snort.

"I remember a young man who took on a local's challenge and spent two hours balancing on a sacred rock just to get the tribe to introduce you to their Sentinel."

"You know, you could have told me the rock wasn't sacred and they were just pulling my leg," Blair said as he looked at Eli. The old man had an amused expression.

"Yes, but you earned their respect. I think stubbornness is the first requirement in anthropology."

"And when we finish the tests, maybe you can help me find a few case studies that would support the idea that a Sentinel can work undercover?" Blair asked.

"Deal," Eli agreed with a smile as he stood up and walked around his desk with his hand out to shake on it.

Blair took his hand and finished the deal. "Man, I never thought I would be on the other end of Sentinel testing," he mused as he pushed himself up using the arm of the couch.

"Karma is a bitch, my friend," Eli agreed. "Give me a second to gather some notes, and we're going to see whether you have the biological evidence of a bond."

THIRTY SEVEN
***
Walking into the familiar courtroom, Jim sighed at the sight of his supposed social worker sorting through papers at the table. The bailiff led him to through the low swinging door and guided him to a chair next to her.

"I have your file right here," she said in a distracted voice as she kept flipping through papers. Jim realized he'd forgotten her name and he couldn't come up with a polite way to ask for it. Of course, at another time he might not have worried about being polite, but right now he needed to make the system happy, and being rude to the social worker was not on his agenda.

"Have you talked to Blair?" he asked, trying not to give voice to the panic he could feel curling in his guts.

"I didn't have a chance to call," she gave him an apologetic look and a shrug as she pulled out a file. "Is he a good guardian?" she asked, looking at the papers in her hand. Jim could tell that she was paying more attention to him than she seemed to be, though.

"He's a very good guardian," Jim agreed. "He leaves his towels on the floor, but no roommate is perfect."

The woman abandoned the pretense of reading the file as she looked at him in surprise.

"Do you want to go back with him?" she asked, and Jim could almost read her train of thought. If Jim liked Blair, why wasn't he panicking over the chance of being taken away? Jim focused on the woman.

"I know I'll go home with Blair. The guy who filed the complaint…"

"Detective Aldo," the social worker filled in for him, as though Jim didn't know the name of the asshole trying to ruin his life.

"Detective Aldo has an ax to grind with Blair; Blair busted a dirty cop inside Internal Affairs, and ever since then, he has harassed Blair to the point that Captain Banks has complained about his lack of professionalism," Jim quickly summarized, trying not to show his aggravation that the woman hadn't investigated any of this herself.

"So he's wrong about Detective Sandburg taking you to the scene of a pedophile's attack and murder of a little girl?"

"We went to the scene, but only long after the event. There was no chance of the suspect being on scene."

"And yet, he was," the social worker pointed out.

Jim stared at her, calmly marshalling his arguments while trying to not scream in frustration. No wonder Sentinels went on rages.

"He wasn't there at the scene I was asked to cover. Neither time. I picked up on his scent when Blair and I went to inform the detective in charge of the scene that we were leaving. It was just dumb luck, and the sort of dumb luck that leads to a pedophile and murderer being arrested," Jim pointed out. He would have crossed his arms and glared, but the shackles made that impossible. Instead, he curled his hands into fists as they lay in his lap.

"So, Detective Sandburg did break regulations," the social worked concluded.

"His captain didn't say so," Jim said, shifting slightly so he could stare at the judge's bench instead of the social worker who sat beside him.

"Captain Banks did file a petition in favor of Detective Sandburg," she admitted. Jim glanced over, surprised that Banks had gotten so involved. While he had shown Jim more respect than most people did, Jim hadn't expected him to get involved. The moment the back door to the courthouse opened, Jim knew it was his Guide.

"Blair." The whisper escaped before he could think about it, and the social worker glanced back.

"It is him. Your rating must be quite high."

Jim continued to stare forward, struggling to keep his control firmly in hand. The familiar heart pounded just a little too fast, and the scent that now teased Jim smelled of adrenaline.

"All rise," the bailiff ordered. "Judge Brampton presiding." Jim struggled up, his chains making it hard to move the chair far enough to comfortably stand. A familiar face appeared in a door behind the judge's bench and the judge walked to her chair and sat.

"Be seated," the bailiff ordered. Jim sat as the judge flipped through a file matching the one his social worker had.

"James, this makes three times in as many months. What am I going to do with you?" the judge asked in exasperation. Since the question sounded rhetorical, Jim ignored it and focused on Blair whose heart beat dangerously fast.

"Steph, what's up with my favorite Sentinel?" she asked. The social worker stood up.

"I received a very serious complaint from Lieutenant Aldo in Internal Affairs. He claims Detective Sandburg illegally included Sentinel Ellison in the pursuit of a pedophile, putting both the suspect and Sentinel Ellison in significant danger. James insists that he was simply checking a scene and that the presence of the pedophile was coincidence, but Detective Sandburg took him to the scene of a child's murder, an act which appears illegal on the face of it."

"Not illegally," Jim interrupted. He expected someone to tell him to shut up, but the judge looked over at him.

"James?" she prompted.

Jim took a deep breath. He hadn't expected to be heard, but he knew he had one chance at this. "At most, this was a breach of policy, and that's something Blair has addressed with his captain. But he never broke any Sentinel law or any other law."

"Illegal might have been too strong a word," the social worker said, her lips getting thin as she looked over at Jim with clear aggravation. Too damn bad for her. "However, Detective Sandburg clearly put his Sentinel in harm's way and violated department policy by allowing contact between Sentinel Ellison and a pedophile. The emotional damage Sentinel Ellison could have suffered if he'd gone into a rage and killed the suspect…. Your honor, this is clearly not a healthy situation for Sentinel Ellison."

Jim gritted his teeth as his social worker described the situation in the worst possible terms. His opinion didn't actually count; Jim pulled at the chains until the wrist cuff bit into his skin, the physical pain pulling him back from the cold fury that left him ready to snap the woman's neck. And from the way the judge considered Blair through narrowed eyes, the social worker was going to get her way. Jim's fists curled around the chains as he considered just how little choice he had.

"Your honor," Blair called from the seats behind the rail.

"Detective Sandburg, it's so nice to see you fully conscious, but I am wondering what the hell you were thinking—if you were thinking at all," the judge demanded, her voice sharp.

"Neither of us expected to find the suspect on scene. We were just investigation the crime scene, not actually pursuing Kari Taylor's killer." Blair pulled out the same arguments he'd used with Simon, but the judge looked significantly less impressed with them, and that wasn't an easy task considering how uniquely unimpressed Simon had been.

"So, you were investigating the child's death without pursing the suspect?"

"Exactly." Blair nodded enthusiastically as the back door on the court room opened. Jim's eyes opened wide when he recognized his father's face. He was older, deep lines highlighted his eyes and age spots mottled his skin. His hair had turned white, but the square jaw and hard eyes hadn't changed at all.

"Detective Sandburg, that sounds suspiciously like equivocation," the judge continued, and Jim pulled his attention back to the proceedings.

"No, your honor. I already talked to my captain after we did the first sweep of the area, and that was when Jim identified clues that led to a whole new line of investigation. Two new lines really, three if you count the ceramic dog, but the point is that the investigation at the scene led to the arrest of Antonio Herrera."

Blair had started babbling, and Jim prepared himself for the worst. They were going to lock him in a little cell and then, depending on who was in charge, they would either just let him stew for several weeks until the need to find Blair was overwhelming or they would bring in someone who would verbally attack Blair until Jim felt that same overwhelming need to find his companion. At least this time, he'd be locked up by people who knew the dangers of a Sentinel who was suffering a broken bond, so there wouldn't be another disaster with a guard or even a chance of him having a stroke, at least not a large chance. Jim almost wished he could just have a stroke and avoid the breaking bond, but the worst part was knowing that Blair would suffer the same, only he'd have to do it alone.

"This seems like a lot of fast talk for you putting James' needs one step behind your desire to catch this killer. Detective Sandburg, while I admire your dedication to your job, I would remind you that as a guardian, you must always put your Sentinel's needs first. Always."

"I totally get that." Blair nodded his head until the flash of the earring reflecting the florescent lights just about made Jim zone. Control shifted, abandoning Jim as he clutched the wrist chains.

"No, you obviously don't get that," the judge snapped. "If you did you'd avoid putting James in a position where he could have lost control—and then he would have to live with the knowledge that he had killed someone."

"Your honor, I know. It was really stupid," Blair immediately changed tactics.

"Stupid doesn't cover it," the judge interrupted, clearly not impressed. "You're just lucky that James has so much control, and I'm just not sure I can trust you to put James' needs above your own work as a detective."

"I never…"

"Thought about James' needs as a Sentinel? *That* is clearly evident," the judge snapped.

"He's thinking about Jimmy's needs more than anyone else in this room," a voice called from the audience. At first, Jim didn't even recognize his father's voice. The confidence Jim remembered had become the tremulous thread of an old man.

"This is not an open hearing," the judge cut him off and the bailiff started walking toward the audience, ready to enforce the judge's order.

"I'm William Ellison, Jimmy's father," he said as he stepped to the rail that divided the front of the courtroom from the audience.

Jimmy. His father hadn't called him Jimmy since he was twelve years old on that football field. After that it was 'Jim, act your age' or 'James, show some self control.' And yet, now that he had proved every one of his father's fears true by sitting in a Sentinel court in chains, his father came in and called him Jimmy.

"Mr. Ellison, if you think your position is going to convince me to alter my decision, I can tell you that your money means less than nothing to me. My job is to defend your son's best interests. As of right now, you don't have any part in that."

Jim watched his father step forward, a hand spotted with age resting on the rail between the seating and the front. "If you're concerned about my son, then let him do some good work. You take away his chance to make a difference in the world, and you'll destroy him quicker than anything," William said calmly, and Jim found himself suddenly confused. In all him imagined reunions with his father, he had envisioned accusations and recriminations, but never this unfamiliar old man trying to stand up for him.

"Your honor," Jim started, not sure what he was going to say.

"Jimmy was a Ranger, or have all of you forgotten that? He's earned fifteen service medals. He served as a commanding officer."

"Mr. Ellison, I know that James has served his country…"

"No!" William slapped his hand down on the rail, and the bailiff took an involuntary step forward. Twisting in his seat, Jim glanced back toward Blair, trying to decide if this was one of his Guide's hair-brained ideas, but Blair looked just as confused as the rest of them.

"No, you know nothing," William said more calmly this time. "He was always a Sentinel. You folks think that he developed late, but he developed sight when he was twelve. He had all five senses by the time he was sixteen, and I have the medical records here. Dr. Vogt has died since then, but his records are legal documents."

Jim stood, the chains digging in his wrists as he moved too quickly, and his father's eyes focused on him.

"Roy," the judge said, and the bailiff stepped between Jim and his father, motioning Jim back to his seat.

"Dad," Jim said quietly, but the bailiff's hand on his arm pushed him back, and Jim had to either sit or fight. He sat.

"Mr. Ellison, you are confessing to a felony here."

William nodded. "Yes, your honor. I already told my lawyer what I was doing. But Jimmy is a soldier, and now he's a cop. You take that away from him and you'll take something important. If his partner took him to the scene, then it was because his partner knows that Jimmy has control. He's had control for twenty years, and that's not going to change just because you lot finally figured out that he's got the senses."

Jim looked up at the judge who had a shocked expression and then back toward his father who stood with his fingers wrapped around the rail as he leaned forward.

"I'm taking this to chambers. I want the two Ellisons and Detective Sandburg in my chambers now," the judge demanded. And then she was up and out of the room before the bailiff could even call for people to rise.

"Roy, should I…?" the social worker asked, waving a hand toward the door to chambers.

The bailiff came around the table and got a hand under Jim's elbow, pulling him up, and Jim gritted his teeth at the overt show of control. "Nah, the judge was pretty specific," he said as he pulled Jim toward the door behind the judge's desk. "You two, come on," he said to Blair and his father who still stood in the audience. Blair practically scrambled to come through the gate, his father was a little slower. The few other people in the room, probably other social workers or lawyers sat and whispered to each other as they all headed to the judge's chambers. Jim shuffled down the hallway, the bailiff's fingers firmly pulling his arm and Blair's fingers brushing against his back as they walked.

"Is this some scheme of yours, Detective?" the judge demanded when they reached chambers. She sat on the sill of her window, the screen pulled out and laid on the floor and a fan pointed at her as she took a deep pull at her cigarette and then blew smoke outside.

"No your honor," Blair quickly said as the bailiff pointed Jim at a chair and pushed him down. The bailiff stood behind Jim, arms crossed, but Blair still slid closer until he could let his hand rest on Jim's arm. The warmth centered Jim even as the bailiff's cold glare in Blair's direction made him want to back the tall guard into a corner and have a few words with him about picking on someone his own size.

His father took a seat as far from them as he could. Jim was still trying to figure out what his father's game was.

"So," the judge said after another drag at the cigarette. "If I have Roy open that bag of yours, is he going to find more of these mysterious medical records that prove James has been a Sentinel all along?"

"I have the medical records, if that's what you want to see," William said as he pulled papers out of his briefcase. "My lawyer has the originals, but if you need to see them, you can."

The judge glared at him for a second. "Detective Sandburg, this is your one chance to convince me that you aren't just unfit as a guardian but also trying to pull some con that will get you held in contempt of court."

Jim yanked at his chains hard enough to make them rattle, and the judge glanced over at him, her brows lowering in a frown.

"You honor," Blair said, and Jim could hear the tremor in his voice. Holding his backpack with one hand he started rummaging around in it with the other. "I never thought you'd take Aldo's charges seriously. I didn't even bring anything to defend against those because I didn't think I needed defending. I brought case studies, several Sentinels in World War II, a few who from Europe and one in Asia. I wanted Jim to have the right to work undercover, and so all the evidence I brought, it's all to convince you to give Jim more freedom." Blair stumbled to a stop, papers clutched in his hand, and Jim could smell the panic.

"So, you have no problem endangering your Sentinel and you want my permission to endanger him more?" The judge's eyebrows rose.

"Man, I would never do anything to put Jim in danger, and yeah, the whole scene of the crime was pushing the rules a little bit, but it was totally not against regulations, and I knew Jim wouldn't have trouble."

"How did you know that?" the judge asked, leaning forward while she hung the hand with the cigarette out the window.

Blair glanced down, but Jim could only look up and hope that the kid's tongue could get them out of this.

"He told me that he'd been a Sentinel the whole time. He was ordered to work with a general who had slaughtered a village, including all the children. No way would he have gone off the deep end. And he so didn't. When he found the suspect, he didn't use excessive force, not even excessive for a non-Sentinel. Man, he was totally in control."

"So, you're buying this story about him developing in adolescence, too?" the judge asked before she transferred her gaze to William. "Okay, so either convince me you committed a felony twenty or so years ago, or I'm going to assume you are pulling a very strange con."

"Your honor," William held out the papers. "I have his medical records. Dr. Vogt kept Jimmy's original tests, but he would always substitute other figures for the school records."

"I really should be advising you to not say anything more until you're represented by a lawyer, but I have to ask. Why would you do that?" The judge leaned farther out the window and took another deep pull at the cigarette, but Jim focused on his father. For twenty years he'd wanted to ask that question… more than twenty years. Some nights he would tell himself that his father was afraid for him, but others he would remember that angry expression, his father bending over him, yelling, and he couldn't imagine any love in that face. Then, the lessons on control seemed more about William Ellison protecting himself and the reputation of his youngest son from the taint of the elder. Now, his father's hands shook slightly as he put the medical records down on the chair next to his.

"His mother and I didn't want anyone to know."

"Mom?!" Jim demanded angrily. Even though he knew he should stay out of this, he just couldn't. "Mom left when I was a kid; she didn't have anything to do with this."

His father shook his head. "Your mother didn't know you were a Sentinel, but we knew you or Stevie might inherit the gene. We didn't want you stuck in the system."

Jim could see his father's eyes brighten with tears that the stubborn old man wouldn't cry, and Jim just didn't even have an answer to that.

"Jim's mom was a Sentinel," Blair said quietly. William nodded.

"She did develop late… after Stevie was born. We hid it as long as we could, but when it got too dangerous, she headed for Canada."

"So, you drove your wife out of her home and away from her children and left her vulnerable to slavers or maybe just the weather as she ran from the law?" the judge demanded. "Do you even know if she's alive?"

William shook his head, and Jim clutched at the chains, struggling to even understand everything his father was saying. How many times had his father yelled at him and Stevie to stop talking about their mother? He'd pulled down every picture of her, locked them up like he wanted them to forget her. And she had run to hide being a Sentinel? "She had an aunt," William finally said. "She was in the system, and her guardian beat her to death. And the only thing the law did was call it an accident. The woman didn't have any rights," William snapped back.

"You were her husband. Unless you planned to beat her to death, that wouldn't have been an issue. And while the system does sometimes fail, any Sentinel is entitled to protection, even from a guardian." The judge paused long enough to look at Blair. "Especially from a guardian."

"But there was no guarantee that I would get custody. I had a couple of convictions for insider trading and unfair business practices. We couldn't stand the thought that some judge could give her to another man like a piece of property. And if she were a registered Sentinel, they'd look at the boys even more closely. We knew we'd never be able to protect them if they developed senses." William stopped and took deep breaths, obviously struggling to control his emotions. "Jimmy grew up fine. He never needed the SI to learn to control himself or his senses."

"This is ridiculous." The judge put the cigarette out on the window sill and tossed it from the window before coming over and picking up the medical records from the chair next to William.

"I did the best I knew for my family," William said softly.

"Yeah, well you fucked it up on all counts from where I'm sitting," the judge said without a whole lot of compassion. She flipped through the records slowly, scanning each page as she slowly backed up until she could sit on the edge of her desk.

"Do you have any idea what these records show?" the judge demanded as she pinned William Ellison with a furious expression.

"They show he was a Sentinel even back then."

The judge snorted. "They show he was a highly disturbed and distressed Sentinel. His tests are all over the map. He has no consistent levels, and his control varies widely from one test to another. If I had a sixteen year old with these records, I would remove him from the family and put him into an Institute two years early."

"He was fine. He controlled himself," William objected, but the judge just gave him a withering look.

"Okay, so based on the evidence, I would have to assume that Detective Sandburg and Mr. Ellison are right. James developed his abilities in adolescence, which does suggest that he has a higher level of control than these tests would indicate. These tests show a Sentinel on the verge of disaster."

"Your honor, may I?" Blair asked as he held out his hand. The judge considered him for a second and then surrendered the records. "Jim, would it bother you?" Blair asked as he looked down, and Jim gave a little shake of his head.

"Go ahead and knock yourself out, Chief," he offered. Blair already knew more about him than anyone else, and if anything, it bothered him that the judge and his father had seen something that Blair had not. Blair stood and flipped through the pages of medical records describing the worst years of Jim's life. Jim had been happier lying in his own waste in an eighteen inch high shelter trying to kill a man with a long-range sniper rifle.

"Your honor, my father…" Jim paused. "My father made some mistakes."

The judge snorted, her fingers working nervously as though she wanted another cigarette.

"But Blair has been nothing like that. Blair has listened to my concerns, and if anything, he has held me back. He tried to keep me from going after the murder suspect. And if he'd had any idea that the suspect would still be right there at the same place where he'd left the body, he never would have taken me back there. My only complaint with Blair is that he sometimes forgets that I was a captain in the Rangers. I commanded men and made life and death decisions on a regular basis. I watched men die in my arms because of the decisions I made, and I collected their dog tags and went on with the mission objectives." Jim kept his voice calm, and he focused on the judge, trying to force her just through will power to see past Jim the Sentinel and see Jim the man.

"And you had your senses?" she asked, her hands reaching for the cigarette pack on her desk.

"Yes, ma'am. Sometimes they would fade, but there was always some of it there. The guys used to call me 'Radar' because I would hear things coming."

The judge retreated back to the window as she lit the second cigarette. For a long time, she smoked and stared out over Cascade, and Blair's fingers tightened on Jim's arm. Jim wished he could reach up and take Blair's hand and promise him that it was okay, but he didn't have the power to do either. He strained at the chains, even knowing it was hopeless, just because he didn't have any other way of letting Blair know how much he wanted to be free to take Blair in his arms. Jim shoved aside the whole question of his father because that emotional tangle was simply too snarled for him to even try and figure out right now.

"Your tests from childhood. They show some numbers higher than on your SI jacket, and that jacket is pretty impressive," the judge finally said to the skyline. However, Jim knew exactly where she was going.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered.

"You were tricking the tests," she accused him as she finally looked back into the room.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Damn it, this is so far out in left field that I don't even have a precedent for it."

"Man, I am taking my job as guardian seriously," Blair interrupted her thoughts, and she focused on him. "I'll do anything to keep custody. You tell me what I have to do and I'll do it," he vowed.

"You aren't taking him undercover," the judge started, and Blair nodded immediately. "And he needs to be retested. I want true numbers on his senses, and I want to make sure they're stable. These older records show evidence of psychological trauma, and I want a full series to make sure that isn't still lurking in there."

"Dr. Stoddard at the university is doing a study on Sentinels and control," Blair quickly offered, although Jim did notice how the man edited himself out of the picture. Then again, the judge hadn't been impressed with Blair's judgment, so that was probably a smart obfuscation. "He could do a full set of tests on limits and control."

"James, no more tricking the tests," the judge warned, pointing her fingers at him with the cigarette still between them before she dangled the hand out the window again. The smoke detector gave a little chirp.

"Yes, your honor," Jim agreed, the coils of steel fear in his stomach slowly unwinding as the judge finally relented.

"And Mr. Ellison, your callous behavior toward your son is, quite frankly, shocking. I am entering a protective order, and you are not to have any contact with James. None. I get wind of one letter, one phone call, one accidental meeting on the street and you will be in jail for contempt of court, got it?"

"Yes, your honor," William nodded. He glanced over toward Jim, and for the first time since entering the service, Jim found himself wishing he could spend time with the man. He had made so many decisions in his mind about why his father would have done what he did, and now Jim found himself questioning all of them; however, his father's eyes slid down to the floor. "I haven't had contact with him for twenty-six years, your honor. I won't challenge the order."

"You're going to be lucky if you don't end up in jail," the judge pointed out. "Okay, I'm awarding probationary custody to Detective Sandburg on the condition that I get a new set of tests that align with these tests from his childhood. I also plan on making sure Steph pays you a few extra visits, and I want to see you back here in four weeks for a reevaluation. Please try and not end up back in my courtroom before then, gentlemen. Roy, process James into Detective Sandburg's custody, please."

The judge turned her back and returned to her cigarette, and Jim found he could finally breathe without the pain in his chest. Beside him, Blair gave a strangled sound and his fingers tightened into Jim's arm.

"Let's go home, Chief," Jim said as the bailiff caught his other arm and pulled him upright. Jim shuffled along with him to processing. "I'll meet you around the side," he said as Blair silently tried to follow. Not only would they not allow Blair there, but Jim didn't exactly want his Guide to see what the Institute uniform hid. For a second, Blair blinked as though in a trance, and then he nodded his head.

"You got it. I'll pick you up," he smiled.

THIRTY EIGHT
***
Jim let his hand rest on Blair's shoulder as his Guide unlocked the door to the loft. Home. Jim let his senses out as he scanned the familiar territory. The loft smelled of incense and burned grilled cheese sandwich.

"Blair," Jim said as Blair locked the door behind them. Blair turned and looked at him with dark eyes for a brief second before he stepped into Jim's arms. Jim held Blair's trembling body close, letting the warmth between them chase away the cold fears that had crawled into his soul in the last twenty four hours.

"I thought. Fuck, I don't even want to say it out loud," Blair gave a weak laugh and then he tilted up his head to look at Jim. "Welcome home."

Jim took the opportunity to press his lips to Blair's, to taste and nibble and feel the heat as Blair opened his mouth and tightened his arms around Jim's waist. Jim didn't want words, not now. He had his Guide, and he needed something other than words.

Blair moaned into his mouth, fingers pulling up at Jim's shirt, and then warm hands quested over his skin. Now Jim moaned as he pulled them toward the couch. He had more layers to work through to find his way to Blair's skin, and he pushed Blair's vest off.

Blair broke away from the kiss, panting, his eyes black with lust and he hauled his shirt over his head and flung it out of the way.

"Shh. Calm down," Jim murmured as he pulled Blair back into an embrace. He could feel Blair's heart pound and the blood rush through the skin so that his whole body pulsed in time with the hands that pulled at Jim's shirt.

"Shhh," Jim soothed again as he pulled his own shirt off with one hand, his other arm still wrapped around Blair.

"I could have lost you," Blair gasped, his fingers working the button on Jim's pants with a silent desperation, and Jim reached down and captured the wrists in his hands, maneuvering Blair back toward the couch until the backs of his legs pressed against the cushion.

"But you didn't," Jim pointed out. "I'm here. We're together." Blair opened his mouth, and rather than get distracted with 'could haves' and possibilities, Jim kissed him again, this time aggressively exploring, pressing his body to Blair's, smelling the dark musk that rose between them, tasting the coffee and the lingering remains of panic. Letting go of one captured wrist, Jim wound an arm around Blair's waist before pushing him into the couch, forcing him down. Blair went without complaint, ending up on his back, and Jim let his own body rest on top of Blair's.

Jim put his hands on either side of Blair's face, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss, sucking and nibbling and tasting everything he could, and Blair bucked below him grunting as his hands clutched Jim's back.

Pulling back, Jim smiled at the glazed expression on Blair's face. Brushing the curls back from the neck, Jim started tasting the skin, sucking gently until he could feel Blair shiver and tremble below him as he worked his way down over the chest.

With a quiet litany of "oh mans" punctuated by grunts and gasps, Blair twisted under Jim's hands as Jim explored all that exposed skin. His nipples were dark points by the time Jim reached them and he took one in his mouth, pressing with his teeth until he heard Blair suck in a breath and then soothing the skin with small kisses.

Blair's hands fluttered around Jim's head and shoulders, brushing lightly and then flying away to fist the native blanket thrown over the back of the couch or to grab the cushion. Ignoring the needy noises and heavy lust, Jim let himself linger over Blair's stomach, fascinated by the ripple of muscle and the way the hair follicles contracted when the cool air stroked the moist trail left behind by Jim's kisses.

Jim pressed his hand into the bulge in Blair's jeans, and the man bucked up and cursed vividly, accidentally pulling the blanket down on both of them. Jim shoved it to one side and unbuttoned the jeans, slowly unzipping them so that he could see the cock stretching the white cotton of Blair's briefs.

Lifting his hips in invitation, Blair's hands tried to reach for the jeans, but Jim got there first, pushing the jeans and the underwear to Blair's knees. Another day he wanted to map every millimeter of Blair, to taste and tease and examine each square inch until Blair squirmed with need, but now he couldn't wait, and Blair couldn't either. Blair panted, his head thrown back and his Adam's apple bobbing.

Blair's shiny cock head pushed out the end of the foreskin, and Jim fingered the unfamiliar skin. The only cocks he'd ever touched, his own and Keith's, were both circumcised. However the simple touch made Blair gasp and thrust, the precum gathering in the crease of skin around the head of it. Jim glanced up and Blair was clutching the couch cushion in one hand and had his arm flung up and over the end of the couch with his other. Jim quickly unfastened his own pants and shoved them down.

"Missed you," Jim admitted as he let his weight again pin Blair to the couch. He lined their cocks up so that he could hold both in one hand while he supported his weight on his other elbow.

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's shoulders and thrust up, his mouth open and gasping in air heavy with pheromones. Jim let his own eyes close as he lost himself in the movement of cock against cock. Jim just tightened his hold as the lust increased, taking control of his muscles. He thrust down, his motion timed with Blair's now rhythmic motions, and Blair gave a strangled shout as he came.

Jim thrust twice more and then came in a rush that left him physically dizzy and exhausted. He sank down, ignoring the stickiness between them as he allowed Blair to carry his weight.

Lying limply on the couch, one arm thrown out, Blair didn't complain. He simply brought his other arm down and started tracing circles on the back of Jim's shoulder. They lay there, sated and drowsy as the light in the loft softened and turned to the reddish glow of sunset.

"Man, you're going to smother me here," Blair finally said softly. He didn't sound like he was in any immediate danger, but Jim pushed himself up. As they separated, the smell of semen and lust thickened like a fog in the air, and Jim could feel himself harden again.

"Making up for lost time?" Blair teased as he sat up and let his hand rest on Jim's thigh.

"Something like that," Jim agreed as his cock reached half-mast. However, Blair wasn't recovering as fast, and so he pushed his own need aside.

"Totally time for that later. Lots of time. I'm thinking laying on the edge of a lake having sex pretty much 24/7 sounds good to me. We've got to make some plans first, though. I mean, with the judge keeping an eye on us, I don't know that we can use a whole lot of your money. I suppose we could write checks on the account, but we have to make sure that we're out of the country before she catches on."

"What?" Jim's brain was still sluggish with the lazy aftermath of orgasm, but he had obviously missed some important bit of conversation.

"Canada, man. We have got to make plans." Blair stood and pulled his jeans up, tucking himself away when Jim really wouldn't have minded a day or two playing nudist camp. But then again, that just might be his Sentinel instincts talking.

"Wait, what about changing the country being as important as defending it?" Jim asked. Okay, so he had questioned that logic at the time, but Blair seemed to have done a 180 somewhere and Jim wasn't sure where.

"Oh man. She was going to take you. We hadn't done anything wrong, and trust me, I've done plenty wrong so I know what breaking the regs looks like. And still, she could take you." Blair started pacing.

"Blair, calm down." Jim pulled up his own pants and went to grab Blair. Blair ducked out of his reach, and it took Jim several minutes to corral him near the stairs and finally wrap his arms around the man, who still trembled, but this time with an anger Jim could almost taste.

"It's not fucking fair. And man, I'm thirty fucking years old. When am I going to get it through my head that life isn't fair? I thought we were safe if we just played by the rules. And she would have taken you. Man, if your father hadn't come in there she would have put you back in that place. It's not fucking fair."

The words tumbled out of Blair so fast that Jim had trouble even catching them all. "Chief, come on, deep breaths," Jim said as he could hear the heart race and smell the panic that was quickly overriding the scent of lust that still clung to them. Blair did take several breaths as his heart slowly came back down to normal levels. This wasn't the post-sex scene Jim had in mind, but Jim tried to focus on Blair and the twists in that brilliant mind that sometimes seem to leave Jim and logic far behind.

"We have to leave," Blair said.

"Okay, slow down here, Chief," Jim said. Yeah, he agreed with the judgment, but no way was he going to take Blair away from everything, including his chance to undo the harm he'd done in the Sentinel division, and then live with Blair slowly self-destructing over that. "Help me understand what you're thinking, Chief. You wanted a chance to try and fix things, at least make a dent on the system."

"Man, you were all for running. You know we have to do this, and why did you let me get away with that utter crap about changing the world?" Blair aimed a mock punch at Jim's chest and then squirmed to get away, but Jim held on. Right now, Jim didn't trust Blair to pace the apartment without breaking something so he pulled Blair back to the couch with him.

"Okay, we need to sit and really talk about this," Jim said calmly as he sat and pulled Blair down next to him. He was already considering any number of plans, but with the two of them, the situation was changed.

"Oh man, Canada," Blair insisted. "Do you want me to break out into verses of O Canada? I'll do it. We can get across the border tonight, or we can write some checks against your account and then run for it, but that's the best bet."

"That's the fastest bet, not the best one," Jim countered.

"It's where you were going before," Blair said as he aimed a punch at Jim's leg. Jim let it connect, but then he caught the wrist before Blair could pull it back.

"It's where I was going when I was a Sentinel who had no guardian. Other countries weren't going to let me legally emigrate by myself, and I didn't have a chance of convincing them I wasn't a Sentinel, not with my fingerprints and military ID in all the systems," Jim countered. "The situation is different now. We have other choices."

"But legally emigrating… man, that takes time. And it's not that easy. There are waiting lists and rules and we don't have time."

"Okay, let's look at what we really need," Jim said quietly. "Absolutely, I need to have my Guide."

"And I need you. When I thought she was going to take you away…" Blair stopped. He yanked to get his hand free, but Jim didn't let go.

"I'm still here, Blair," Jim reassured him.

"Because your father showed up. Man, he had the judge so shocked, I don't think she knew what to think, but what about in a month?" Blair looked up at Jim, and he could see the honest desperation in the expression. "How did he even know?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know, Chief. My father has money and lawyers. I suppose he could have been keeping track of me since the SI grabbed me."

"Since I grabbed you," Blair corrected him, his voice tight. Jim pulled his Guide closer so that they sat on the couch hip to hip, Jim's arm around Blair's waist holding him close.

"You were trying to help."

"Yeah, just like your father was," Blair snapped as he struggled again to get up. Jim held on as Blair fought to run away. Jim wasn't letting it happen.

"Damn it, let go," Blair finally demanded. Jim did, but when Blair burst off the couch and headed for the kitchen, Jim followed.

"You are not my father."

Blair grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Oh, your father, me, the SI, we all just love trying to do the right thing for you, and we all have fucked up your life. Tell me how I'm any different. Fuck." Blair opened the beer and went to take a drink, but Jim was not having this conversation with a drunk guide. He plucked the beer from Blair hand before it got to his mouth.

"Damn it, Ellison," Blair snapped.

"The difference is that my father would have told me I was a fuck up for causing this and the SI would put chains on me and patted me on the head. Compared to them, a good honest fight about what the hell we're doing looks pretty good, Chief."

"I can't lose you. Do you really think I give a damn about saving the world when I could lose you?" Blair asked, his voice trembling. Moving cautiously, Jim let his arm slip around Blair's waist.

"Yeah, I do, Chief. I think you're going to end up hating yourself if you walk away from this fight."

"Try me," Blair challenged him, looking up with the world's most stubborn expression.

"I'm not buying the act, Junior," Jim said confidently. "I'm not saying we should give up and put up with the bullshit, but we need to sit down and look at the situation, really look at it, before we go rushing off into a decision that might not be the best decision."

"Why can't we just run for Canada?" Blair asked, his body slumping as he closed his eyes. Jim gathered Blair into his arms, feeling Blair's guilt as though it were his own.

"Always start a mission by reviewing the objectives and the resources, Chief," Jim said quietly. "I know I need you. I need you, I need the right to make my own decisions, and I need to be able to function without someone always threatening to take you away."

"Man, I need you, and I can't take this again. I'm serious. I can't bear that they have the right to just take you."

"Okay, so that's a start," Jim said calmly, but he held onto Blair fiercely. This time, instead of fighting the embrace, Blair held him back just as tightly. "What about Kincaid?" Jim asked.

Blair laughed. "You know, for once, I can honestly say I don't actually care. Okay, I care. I would pay good money for front row seats to his evisceration, and man, that is so bad for my karma." Blair sighed. "Take him out and more slime will just fill in the hole. We can't stay around here just for him."

"Okay."

"Unless you need to," Blair quickly added. "Shit. Man, this is your call because what he did to you… and thinking about what he did to you, I really am thinking he might be worth sticking around for, but then I think what would happen if we broke some precious regulation trying to get him, and I am right back to wanting to get as far away from him as possible. I think I need therapy," Blair finally concluded.

"You're fine. A little dingy, but fine," Jim promised. "And we aren't going after him just because of what he did to me."

"Just?" Blair asked.

"Just. We've had this discussion," Jim said, making it clear that he was not having this discussion again. Of course, that had never stopped his Guide in the past, so Jim quickly changed the subject. "You need your PhD."

"No way, man. That is so not important," Blair objected and now he tried to pull away. Jim was stronger, though.

"Yes, it is. If you want to convince people to listen to your theories, you need a PhD and access to Sentinels to do your research. That might be in Canada, but not if we run now."

"Jim, that whole bullshit about changing the world was just some naïve fantasy. Blair Sandburg saves the day. Bullshit. The world is too damn big and right now I just want to save us."

Jim shook his head. "You say that now, but every time you pick up a paper and see some story about the Institute, it's going to rip your guts out. You finish your PhD, and even if you don't change the world, you'll know you went down fighting."

"Jim, that could take months."

"Chief, five months in the Institute, over two months with Keith, seven months on the run before that. I have the patience."

"Yeah, well I totally don't. We have to go see that harpy judge in a month. Oh man, I'm freaking here." Blair's arm's tightened around Jim's waist, and Jim stroked the trembling back.

"I know fear, Chief. I lived with it for a long time, but you're too strong to let it rule you. Come on, what do you really need, Blair. We need to be together, and…"

Blair shuddered and refused to answer for long minutes as they simply stood and held on to each other. Eventually, Blair sighed. "Man, I hate when you're right. I can't walk away from the fact that I fucked up, and I screwed up a lot more lives than just yours."

"Okay, so we make one month our goal. Can you do your dissertation in a month?" Jim asked. Blair gave him a look of such incredulous despair that Jim pretty much took that as a no. "Okay, so we get through the judge's reevaluation. Chief, if she thinks she has us scared enough to toe the line, we'll be fine."

"Fuck, you play chicken with those big rigs on the freeway, don't you?" Blair demanded, but at least the humor was reasserting itself. Jim loosened his grip.

"Nope, but I have played Russian roulette with a drunk Russian."

"You… what?!?" Blair jerked back with a yelp.

"I stole the bullets out of the gun first," Jim admitted with a shrug. "So, how long to finish your dissertation?"

"You're like a dog with a bone."

"You've said that before," Jim agreed. "So stop stalling and give me a time frame."

"All the research, identifying subjects, doing the testing, writing up the results. Maybe two months if I totally haul ass, and that's taking a couple of weeks off work to do the actual writing. I'd quit, but it'd be hard to justify having a big bad FBI-trained Sentinel if I was holed up in here on the computer."

"Yeah, not fair to adopt a Sentinel if you're not going to take him for walkies," Jim sighed. Blair shot him a look liberally laced with guilt. "I'm not talking about you," Jim reached over and gave Blair a noogie, and Blair gave a sharp "Hey!" as he retreated.

"Okay," Jim mused. "You have two months to get the dissertation done. So, whatever paperwork you need to line up, do it. I may not be able to contact my father, but if he really is on my side, I might be able to use his law firm to transfer some of my military money into overseas investments. I'll do some research on Sentinel laws and see if there aren't places that are a little more accommodating. Canada doesn't allow you to stay if you enter the country on a visitor's passport, but some countries do."

"Oh man, we go there on vacation, and then just forget to come home?"

"It's a lot easier than trying to run the underground railroad," Jim agreed. "We just need to find the right country. And if you have your PhD, that's going to make it a lot easier for you to get work."

"What about you?"

"I'm flexible," Jim smiled. "With my training, I could do security or private investigations or work in any number of fields where I could use the senses, and I would enjoy the work as long as I didn't have to wear a fucking collar to do it," Jim pointed out as he reached up to touch the warm metal. "Eight months with this thing, and some days it's like I don't even remember that it's on; it's too easy to just focus on life and forget what this means. And other days, it's like it weighs a hundred pounds and I'm struggling with it every single fucking step."

"God Jim, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, knock it off or you're going to get the world's worst wedgie," Jim threatened. "That's the other reason why you're finishing your dissertation and following through on your plans to try and change the world. If you don't, I'm going to have fifty years of guilt trips to deal with and that's not going to happen."

"Yeah, yeah, it's all about you, Ellison," Blair joked weakly. "Man, we're going to do it. We're going to play chicken with the semi truck and hope we don't splattered like a bug across the windshield. Shit. If we get caught…" This time Blair moved into Jim's space, reaching up and resting his hand on Jim's arm, his eyes pained.

"Not going to happen," Jim said, sincerely hoping he wasn't lying. "Besides, what did you call me? Scary covert-ops guy? If we do get caught, you stay right here and I will come find you," Jim promised as he pulled Blair into a hug. Even if they did get caught, he knew he could keep that promise because nothing would keep him from his Guide. They stood in the relative silence with the refrigerator humming away and distant traffic rumbling and the light of sunset slowly slipping away. They simply held each other.

"Plan?" Jim finally asked.

"It's a plan," Blair agreed. "It's not a particularly good plan and I'm scared shitless here, but it's a plan."

THIRTY NINE
***
Jim wandered up the stairs wearily; the bed was still rumpled exactly like he'd left it the morning Simon had woken them.

"You didn't sleep up here," Jim observed. Blair walked up the stairs behind him, already in boxers and a t-shirt.

"Nope," Blair answered as he detoured around Jim and flopped down on the bed. "Don't think I slept much at all."

"Chief," Jim sighed. "You can't let yourself get worn down, especially in enemy territory."

"Enemy territory?" Blair turned an amused look toward Jim before the expression faded into something more thoughtful. "Man, we are in enemy territory here, aren't we? Mom always said the system sucked, but we are taking that to whole new levels that not even she would have dreamed of. Of course, if she did dream of any of this, she so would have organized a whole peace-out, sit-in meditation on the SI lawn."

"Your mom sounds like an interesting woman." Jim crawled in bed, and Blair shifted around so that Jim could spoon around his back. Slipping an arm around Blair's waist, he pulled his Guide close and slipped his thumb under his t-shirt so that he could stroke a small bit of bare skin.

"Yeah, she's interesting. I mean, she is great, but she never does what you'd expect. She totally would have hid me from the SI if I had turned out to be a Sentinel, so she's a little like your dad on that front."

Jim froze.

"Oh man, I was right, you are totally avoiding the subject, aren't you?"

"I'm not avoiding; there's just nothing to talk about," Jim said. "Now go to sleep."

"No way. You know how you could spot my bullshit from a mile away? Well, it works both ways."

Jim sighed but didn't answer as he closed his eyes and feigned sleep. Blair himself admitted he didn't have patience, so the guy had to give up eventually. Jim yanked his arm back when Blair ripped out several of his arm hairs.

"Hey!"

"Ignoring me is hazardous to the health," Blair said with an overly sweet smile as he rolled to his back and blinked up. Jim just rubbed the sore spot on his arm. "Talk." Blair punctuated the word with a poke at Jim's chest.

"Blair, there's nothing to talk about. My relationship with my father essentially ended the day I turned eighteen. Actually, I was seventeen when I graduated and walked out, but you get the picture."

"Yeah, and now he's come back in and thrown himself on the judicial sword. Come on. You have to be feeling something, here."

"I'm feeling like those medical records are going to sink us. I wasn't old enough to control myself when the senses first came on line, so some of those are probably pretty close to my true range. That's another reason for not going underground; there's no guarantee I can outmaneuver the police any more."

"But staying for my dissertation… and no fucking way. Oh you are totally changing the subject on me, and I am not done pointing out that you are avoiding talking about your father."

Jim sighed. He'd spent years trying to even forget his childhood, and dragging it all back out now wasn't sounding like the best idea. "I’m not avoiding it," Jim said slowly.

"Liar," Blair muttered as he shifted himself around so they could lie in bed face to face. "Oh man, if my mom had done something like that, I would be meditating for hours. Come on. If you don't let some of these emotions out, you're going to get emotional constipation and explode when you turn fifty."

"Chief, not wanting to talk about something is not the same as denial."

"Yeah, that's what everyone in denial says," Blair nodded knowingly. Jim reached out and tugged a curl.

"Hey!" Blair retaliated with a poke at Jim's stomach. "So, how do you feel about this whole thing with your father? I mean, he totally dropped a bomb with that bit about your mom. Wow. She was a runner. Well, still is a runner, hopefully."

Jim sighed. "This isn't the kind of conversation to have when I'm exhausted."

"Too tired to come up with good excuses to avoid talking?" Blair asked, the words completely negating the apparent sympathy in his tone. "Come on. If my mom showed up with some story about my father, I would be hanging on every word. And you can't tell me that it's not just a little odd, her running by herself when your father's got money."

Jim rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. "That's about the only part that does make sense to me," he admitted. He dialed his sight back until the loft faded and he was left with the same murky grayness that Sandburg could see. "You don't take kids on the run."

"You don't really think…."

"Think about it. If her and my father had taken us, Stevie and I wouldn't have had any home or stable environment or school."

"Which is sounding a little like my childhood," Blair pointed out quietly. Jim thought about that one for a second.

"Yeah, but if my parents had been caught, Stevie and I would have ended up in some foster care system." That made Blair fall silent for several moments.

"Man, she must have broken her bond to your father, being married to him and all. I think I know where you got your bullheaded strength."

Jim lowered his vision a little more so that the darkness surrounded him, but his senses tricked him, automatically focusing on hearing so the world suddenly became a rush of sounds: traffic from the street, Blair's heartbeat thumping, the scratch of fingernails against cotton, the clock downstairs ticking away.

"I don't remember that much. She laughed a lot." Jim fell silent, focusing on the sound of the city like a river rushing past the loft. Blair was silent for so long that Jim thought he'd fallen asleep, but a quiet voice slipped into the dark.

"This sucks. I mean, I know the system puts a lot more emphasis on family connections now, but still. I was a cog in the wheel that totally ran over your family back then and is trying to roll over you now. And I don't think I ever stopped to really think about Sentinels as mothers or soldiers or just people. Man, my next life is totally going to be as something that licks its own butt."

"Keep the guilt down, Sandburg," Jim suggested. A warm hand brushed against his stomach tentatively, and Jim reached out and captured Blair's hand, letting their linked fingers rest on his stomach.

"We both have issues, man. Serious, fucking issues."

"Speak for yourself."

"Oh I totally am speaking for myself. No wonder my mom burned buckets of sage trying to cleanse my aura every time she visited." Blair sighed. "This restaurant downtown has turkey with sage dressing, and every time I walk in there, I think of mom and her sage."

The silence thickened, and Jim stared into the unfamiliar darkness. In the past, he would slip away from the lanterns of camp and let the black of night leech away the horrors he fervently wished he'd never witnessed. Or he would leave base and drive to the nearest dirt road where he could park and sit on the warm hood of his car and nurse a single cold beer for hours. Since Peru, his Sentinel vision normally made any glimmer of light into a shining beacon.

"I think of my mom when I smell lemon cleaner," Jim finally said. Blair's body warmed one side of Jim, their linked hands still rested on Jim's chest so still that Blair might have been asleep. "She used to tease me, asked how many feet I had because I made too many tracks across her floors to have just two."

Jim took a deep breath and held it for a second. "I don't want to talk to my father because it's easier being mad at him," Jim finally admitted, glad that only the darkness stared back.

"Yes and no. Yin and yang. Black and white. Oh man, it's a lot easier not looking at all the gray in between," Blair agreed. Then he moved, shifting slightly so that his body draped over one side of Jim, a leg coming up to pin one of Jim's legs to the mattress.

"I know he did what he thought he had to…" Jim stopped, not sure how to end that sentence, but Blair simply waited, uncharacteristically silent. The clock ticked away the time, a metronome that tranced Jim. "You're afraid that you're my father, screwing up my life with your good intentions," Jim said quietly. He reached out and stroked Blair's curls. Despite the temptation to raise his vision to Sentinel-normal and study Blair's face, Jim kept his vision low. "I'm afraid that I'm going to be my father and do something to ruin every relationship I have. When Incacha told me to leave, I felt like it was proof that there was something wrong with me."

"That's why you were ready to stay," Blair said with quiet confidence. "You thought you had to if you wanted to keep our relationship because your father always made you feel like there was something wrong with you."

Jim snorted. "I don't think that was running through my head at the time," Jim said, the solemnity of the moment suddenly broken by the image of himself brooding about his father and self-analyzing his motives in relation to his childhood trauma. That wasn't exactly his style. "I don't want to do something that makes it impossible for you to… I just don't want to end up with a Guide who hates me and stays because of the bond. I didn't think any farther than that."

"I'll never hate you." Blair's hand slipped away from Jim's grip and reached around Jim, pulling him close. "If you wanted to run tonight, I promise I wouldn't ever hate you. In fact, it would probably be better for my blood pressure than the current plan."

"Yeah, but then you'd have to live with the guilt of being a cog in the wheel and never even trying to undo the damage you did, and I would have to live with knowing that I walked away from my country without even trying to change the system I thought was important enough to risk my life defending. And Blair," Jim said quietly, "I do think you can make a difference. Someone has to start somewhere, and you have the guts to take that first step."

Jim waited in silence. Blair's heart has sped up, but without raising his vision, Jim couldn't see anything beyond vague shadow, so he didn't know how to interpret that.

"You really think… ?" Blair stopped, but Jim could follow that thought pretty easily.

"I really think you could," Jim agreed. Blair had laid on one of his arms, and Jim used that arm to slip his fingers under the waistband of his boxers. The musk smell that clung to Blair's body had never completely vanished, but now it brightened. Jim smiled as he leaned over and kissed Blair.

His lips found a chin with a five o'clock shadow, and Jim kissed up Blair's cheek until he found open, inviting lips. Jim kissed Blair softly this time, the desperate urgency of earlier having evolved into something slower and deeper.

Jim explored Blair's mouth unhurriedly this time, his tongue tasting and feeling everything as Jim reveled in just being able to touch his Guide. The river of city noises faded to some distant thrumming as Jim twisted so that he was now half on top of Blair.

When Jim pulled back a little, Blair's panting gasps drowned the sound of his pounding heart. Jim smiled knowingly and slid down far enough that he could taste the musk clinging to Blair's neck as he worked his hands under the annoying t-shirt that kept him from his Guide.

"Oh fuck," Blair breathed, arching his back and grabbing at Jim's shoulders. Jim didn't answer as he sat up and pushed the t-shirt up to Blair's armpits. Blair took over from there, yanking it off and flinging it away. Still staring at the old familiar darkness with his vision turned down, Jim started mapping Blair's body with his fingertips. Starting at Blair's shoulders, he stroked the collarbones, letting his thumbs linger in the hollow formed between the shoulder muscle and the collarbone before he bent over and placed a kiss on the spot.

"Fuck, yeah. Oh man." Blair's hands migrated south, pushing Jim's boxers down over the swell of his ass so the fabric caught around his thighs. A little voice in Jim's head pointed out that he could get rid of them altogether if he just stopped straddling Blair's legs, but Jim had other concerns right now.

Jim let his hands stroke Blair's hot skin, down the arms and then up again as goose pimples dimpled his arms. Closing his eyes, Jim focused just on the feel of the flesh under his hands: the slide of tiny hairs against his palms, the heat that soaked into him, the curve of muscle under skin, the tremors as Jim leaned down and sprinkled kisses down Blair's arm.

"Jim," Blair breathed, the name a sigh, and Jim returned to kiss the lips that called his name so softly. By the time he pulled back, Blair was speechless and panting and clutching at Jim's back as he humped up trying to rub his hard cock against Jim. Instead, Jim remained straddling Blair's legs, making it nearly impossible for his Guide to get the motion right.

He would just have to wait, Jim thought evilly as he moved down to the now-exposed chest, tracing the pectoral muscle down to the hardened nipples. Jim sucked at one, using his thumb to massage the other as Blair alternated gasping with cursing. Blair dug his heels into the mattress and arched up as Jim ran fingertips over Blair's stomach. Sucking and tasting and nipping back up to Blair's shoulder, Jim left a damp trail behind.

"Fucking..." Blair's curse disappeared into a sigh as Blair reached up and caught the back of Jim's neck and pulled Jim down into another kiss. Jim groaned as Blair tugged at his lip with blunt teeth. The arms around him pulled, and Jim resisted for a half second before allowing Blair to reverse their positions so that Jim lay on the bed and Blair hovered over him.

In the darkness, Jim could only wait to see what Blair had in mind. Those long curls trailed down Jim's chest, each strand sliding like silk across his hot skin, and Jim hissed and arched up into the sensation. He could feel Blair pause and then the hair reversed direction, teasing Jim's skin to tingling life until they reached Jim's neck.

A warm tongue flicked across Jim's shoulder and then Jim groaned as Blair sucked at his neck, the blood rushing to the spot as Jim hardened. It was his turn to clutch Blair's back as Blair nuzzled his neck and then kissed his way over to the other side.

"I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you," Blair whispered as he pulled back so that the curls brushed against one of Jim's cheeks. This time, Jim reached out and caught the back of Blair's neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

While Jim distracted Blair's mouth with a kiss, his hand slipped into Blair's boxers and found the hot, hard cock waiting. He tightened his grip and slowly stroked up and down. Soon, Blair arched up and away from Jim's mouth as he gasped for air, thrusting down into Jim's body.

Jim could feel the tremors that warned of the coming orgasm, but then Blair was shimmying down out of Jim's reach. Just as Jim opened his mouth to complain, a hot mouth closed over the head of his cock, and Jim nearly choked as he tried to suck breath in and shout at the same time. His hands grabbed at the sides of the mattress as his vision returned with a startling pop.

He looked down to see Blair's cheeks rounded, his lips stretched around Jim's cock as he moved up and down, his eyes closed and the muscles of his shoulders rolling under the skin. Blair hummed, and the vibration made Jim's entire body tighten in anticipation, his fingers digging into the mattress.

Sinking down so that more than half of Jim's cock was in his mouth, Blair sucked, the cheeks hollowing as Blair pulled back and worked the head with his tongue.

"Blair," Jim gasped the warning and then he started coming in waves so intense that his vision grayed for a second as he lay limp and sprawled. By the time Jim had gathered enough brain cells to think of Blair, the man was crying out, the smell of his semen joining Jim's own as Blair collapsed on the bed next to Jim.

Jim reached out and pulled Blair close to his chest, the sweat of their bodies mingling.

"Going to be a mess in the morning," Blair muttered as he reached down and adjusted the boxers that had never actually come off. Jim could smell a fresh burst of semen as the fabric shifted.

"Don't care," Jim answered sleepily as he pulled Blair closer dropping another kiss on Blair's lips. The man now tasted of salt and musk and Jim.

"Yeah, yeah. Say that tomorrow when you see the sheets, Mr. Anal Retentive." Blair squirmed in Jim's arms, twisting until he could grab the edge of the sheet where it had landed on the far side of Blair and pull it over both of them.

Jim didn't answer as he tightened his hold on his Guide. Blair shifted until he had his head resting half on the pillow and half on Jim's shoulder. Considering he had his Guide and his plan, semen-stained sheets didn't phase Jim at all. Blair's breathing evened out to the steady rhythm of sleep and Jim finally closed his eyes and let himself follow his guide into sleep.

When Jim woke sprawled under a tree, the moss under him smelling of earth and rain, Jim couldn't even gather the energy to care.

"I found him," Jim told the air as he rolled to his back. He stretched out, wiggling when a stick found his thigh and poked him.

"Who did you find, Sentinel?" Incacha appeared on a branch above Jim, crouching there with his face painted for war.

"My Guide."

Incacha nodded. "I knew you would. I would not have sent you away if the spirits had not promised that your Guide needed you. He has the strength to drag you where the spirits would have you go. But he needs your power to shelter him."

Jim pushed himself up to his elbows and frowned at the shaman who peered down at him.

"Where they want us to go?" Jim asked. "I'm done being controlled, so why don't you just tell me what the spirits want?" Incacha's face remained impassive as the shaman looked down for several minutes. Finally he answered.

"I cannot give you answers you do not already have."

"Meaning you're a figment of my imagination, my subconscious or something," Jim translated. Again, Incacha stared at him with an expression that Jim couldn't read. During his entire time in Peru, Jim had never learned to recognize Incacha's moods, not the way he could read every other member of the tribe.

"Where is your Guide?" Incacha asked as he looked around. Jim sat the rest of the way up and examined the blue jungle around him.

"I don't—"

"Come on. Man, if we're late, asking Simon for time off is definitely not going to go well, if you know what I mean," Blair complained poking at Jim's stomach. "What happened to getting up at the crack of dawn shit, anyway?" Blair asked.

Jim blinked and looked over at the alarm clock which accused him of sleeping through the alarm. He turned and saw Blair, already showered and dressed.

"Are you okay?" Blair asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out as though to feel Jim's forehead.

"I'm fine. Just strange dreams," Jim said as he grabbed Blair's wrist to keep him from making the overly maternal gesture. Instead Jim used the arm to pull Blair close and steal a kiss. Kissing Blair was quickly becoming one of his favorite hobbies.

"Shit. We are so going to be late, aren't we?" Blair sighed as Jim finally released his lips.

"No. We have a plan, and that means keeping Simon happy enough to give us time off," Jim answered as he firmly pushed Blair back a step so he could get out of bed. "Give me fifteen minutes, and I'll be ready for work." Jim headed for the stairs. New day, new plan, and this time, Jim planned to show everyone who got in his way exactly what a Ranger-trained Sentinel could do.

FORTY
***
Jim followed Blair into the bullpen, his stomach tight until he could see the room was clear of Aldo or SI goons and their chains. Rolling his eyes at his own dramatics, Jim headed for his desk where he eyed the edge where Aldo had sat.

"I need disinfectant," Jim commented wryly.

"Aldo cooties?" Blair asked in sympathy as he sat at his chair and flipped his computer on.

"That man is slime," Jim agreed as he came around and started sorting through the paperwork that had landed on Blair's desk during their suspension. Most were standard lab tests, and Jim quickly sorted them and filed each into the front of the various files that now sat in his desk drawer. At the same time, he cast his hearing out farther, searching the floor above for the cootie-bearer in question. No way would he overlook his sneak attack.

"Don't let slime catch you saying that. Total insult to slime everywhere," Blair snorted. Jim nodded his agreement as Brown and Rafe came in through the doors, manhandling a cuffed suspect who seemed more drunk than argumentative.

"Walk. One foot, other foot. Geez, some people should never touch the hard stuff," Brown complained as he aimed the suspect toward the chair next to Rafe's desk. "Hairboy, Jim, nice seeing you guys back.

"Yeah, yeah, you just didn't like having to pull your own weight around here," Blair teased as he opened his department email.

"Hey now, I resemble that remark," Brown laughed.

"Henri!" Rafe snapped as Brown's distraction gave the suspect a chance to lurch to the side.

"Shit." Brown grabbed at the suspect just a second after the drunk guy spun out of his reach and then kept on spinning, a hip bouncing off a desk as he spiraled off-balance toward Simon's office.

Jim leaped out from behind his desk and caught the guy by his jacket as Brown grabbed his arm. The suspect lost his balance and careened right into Jim's chest, and Jim wrapped his arms around the guy to hold him still as Rafe and Brown got firm grips on his arms.

"Maybe we should put him down in the tank to sober up some," Rafe suggested, sounding a little aggravated, like maybe he had made that suggestion before.

"Yeah, maybe we should," Brown shrugged. He hesitated just a second before giving Jim a manly arm-slap. "Thanks for the assist," Brown offered.

"No problem," Jim answered as he headed back for his desk with a small smile. Teach Brown some manners today, teach the rest of the world tomorrow. Jim glanced over at Blair and wondered just how badly his Guide would take it if his crusade to teach people about Sentinels failed. Well, he'd worry about that if the day came.

"Blair, Jim," Simon called as he stood at the doorway to his office watching the scene. "My office."

Blair sighed and whispered just loud enough for Jim's Sentinel hearing. "Man, this time it is totally not my fault. Aldo just sucks, and I do not mean that in the sexually satisfying way."

"We need to talk to him anyway," Jim pointed out as he headed for Simon's office, Blair trailing behind with a quiet litany of tortures he would like to inflict on Aldo. Jim gave the kid points for creativity and imagination.

"Simon, I know this was a whole mess," Blair said before Simon had a chance to say anything.

"Save the spiel, Sandburg. I don't blame you for Aldo's obsession, although it would be nice if you could do something to appease the man... or hide the body, either one works. After your little run in with Dessy, the department put a surveillance team on him. He threatened to kill a cop, which means he's looking to play with the big boys. And Monday, they picked this up." Simon pushed a stapled packet across the desk, the familiar heading showing when and where the surveillance had been recorded.

Standing next to the window, Jim focused his vision and immediately spotted the reference to Kincaid. Simon was sharp, too sharp to put this off as coincidence, and Jim found himself praying that Blair would sweet talk their way out of this one. One official reprimand for going vigilante and the judge was going to shove Jim back in the SI and shove Blair under the jail for contempt. Just because waiting was the best plan didn't make it a particularly safe one.

"Oh man," Blair breathed, sounding absolutely shocked as he dropped into one of the chairs across from Simon's desk. "Dessy's going into trafficking? But he has a Sentinel working for him. How the hell could someone work with Sentinels, see them function, talk to them and really see them as human beings, and then trade them like..." Blair voice broke off.

"You didn't know?" Simon asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I was doped up and fading in and out of consciousness. I don't know, maybe I heard something about Dessy and maybe I was just hallucinating. Simon, I was watching a damn wolf wander through solid walls at one point, so my whole mental state was—" Blair made a whistling noise and held up his hands in a gesture that made it clear Simon should just not go there.

"A wolf?" Simon asked. Jim just narrowed his eyes and looked at Blair a little closer. Blair hadn't mentioned a wolf before, but then he clearly thought the animal was a hallucination. Jim remembered someone else who insisted a black panther was a drug induced hallucination, until the damn thing started showing up without Incacha's spirit walk tea.

"Yeah," Blair gave a disgusted snort. "I was totally out of my mind. But this is... oh man, I hope they hang Dessy's eviscerated body from the castle tower, and for the first time since taking that class on medieval society, I totally understand why people felt the need to do shit like that."

"So, why would a white supremacist get involved with Dessy and his crew?" Jim interrupted. While he wouldn't admit it, this bloodthirsty version of Blair left him a little unsettled.

"Apparently Dessy has access to Sentinels and Kincaid wants Sentinels to trade for weapons." Simon took the transcript back from Blair. "Creeps like Kincaid only care about their cause if it gets them what they really want: money, power, and a chance to play their sadistic games. But we wouldn't have gotten this if you hadn't spotted Dessy's number two guy as a Sentinel. The team had to use a piezoelectric crystal recording device." Simon nodded to Jim, and Jim felt an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction. It'd been a long time since he was praised by anyone in authority for anything other than his damn senses.

Jim nodded back at Simon, accepting the praise without leaving his spot next to the windows.

"So," Simon started as he glared at Blair suspiciously, "You aren't going to give me crap about the fact that you're too personally involved and I’m pulling you from the Dessy case?" Simon asked as he leaned forward and studied Blair.

Blair shook his head. "The way things are going at the U, I needed to talk to you anyway."

"Problem?" Simon picked up his coffee mug and frowned at Blair over the rim.

"The chancellor is starting to question why I'm still around when I should have finished my dissertation like ages ago. Eli Stoddard, you know, the professor I'm writing that article with?" Simon nodded at Blair's description. "He says this is pretty much my last chance to get my act together or I'm going to find myself tossed out with an ABD, All-But-Dissertation, instead of my PhD."

Jim listened as Blair obfuscated the truth, skirting around the edges of it without actually saying anything untrue. And his heart beat steadily through it all. That ability truly made Jim doubt just how accurate his senses were at spotting lies because in his mind, Blair was lying through his teeth.

"So, what are you saying?" Simon asked, setting the cup down.

"Man, I'm going to have to actually work thirty hours instead of my normal obsessive-compulsive thing, and then in a month or two, when I have my research lined up, I’m going to have to cash in all my vacation time."

"All of it? What? Three weeks? Blair, this is not a good time..." Simon immediately started, but Blair held up his hand as he scrambled out of his chair.

"Totally. I totally get that, but this is crunch time, Simon. I can't lose my PhD after working on it this long. If I have to quit, I will, but man, please don't put me in that spot." Blair had backed up a couple of steps and had an expression like a puppy that's just been told it's getting sent to the pound. And obviously Simon wasn't immune to the expression because he sighed.

"Blair, this Ms. Bennett has already been down here asking about Jim's working conditions. If you quit, if you even stay home for three weeks, the woman is going to start asking what Jim is doing when you're working on your dissertation."

Jim stepped forward. "Blair needs time to work on his dissertation, but even if he quits, that doesn't mean I have to. You have another Sentinel who works with a partner who isn't his guardian."

"You mean Jamal Brown? He works with his brother who used to be his guardian."

"I'm capable of working without Blair babysitting me, and if it keeps Ms. Bennett happy, I'll work with Henri Brown or Rafe."

Simon leaned back in his chair and pulled his glasses off, tossing them on the desk. "I don't know how to keep Ms. Bennett happy right now, but making huge changes in your schedules isn't the best idea."

"Simon," Blair said, his voice strained, but Simon held up a hand.

"I get it, Blair. Joel is thinking about coming back to detective work, so he'll be covering vacations. Jim, if you and Joel get along, we can try that. But if Ms. Bennett or that judge start making noises..."

"I'll be out the door before you'll have time to say anything," Jim nodded in agreement. "I just wish I knew what would keep these people happy and away from me," Jim gave a sigh as he realized that they would have to walk a tight-wire until they were ready to run.

"Totally sucks," Blair agreed. He stood behind one of Simon's guest chairs, and when Jim glanced over, he could see the purpling mark on Blair's neck. Jim pursed his lips and felt an unfamiliar rush of need, which he pushed aside, promising himself that he could ravish Blair later.

"Blair's PhD could change things for the better for a lot of Sentinels. We need to take the chance," Jim finished.

"You're finishing your dissertation on tribal Sentinels?" Simon asked, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"No way. Man, that topic has been done to death. That's not just beating the dead horse, that's beating the dead horse's bones. It's scattered, desiccated bones. No, I'm doing research on Sentinel control. I wish I had time for some data collection overseas, maybe in Russia where Sentinels have no legal protections, even when provoked. But even without that, I totally think this could be amazing. In fact, if the operation closes up in the next week or two, I would love a shot at interviewing Jake Washington."

"Sentinel Institute already picked him up," Simon said. "We can't keep something like a runner a secret from the Sentinel division. They took him in yesterday."

Jim curled his hand around the back of the chair, not sure how he felt about that. Washington deserved prison. The steady hand on the gun that had pointed right at Jim's head suggested that this man had a lot of experience with that gun. He wasn't afraid of threatening someone's life, and he wasn't afraid of killing. But Jim couldn't help thinking that not even Washington deserved the life he'd woken up to this morning.

"He should be in jail," Jim commented.

"Yes, he should," Simon sighed. "But sometimes this world isn't fair. So, he gets a walk on who knows how many years of being one of Dessy's enforcers, and then if the SI signs off, he gets a brand new life working in some position where he's supposed to protect people. It's not a perfect system."

"Simon, I hear you. I so totally hear you," Blair nodded. Simon rolled his eyes, and Jim got the feeling that there was some history there.

"Just get out of here. Go introduce your partner to Joel and get something accomplished. I'll try to keep new cases to a minimum until you've got your schooling done, but I need you to be really on the job, not just punching a time clock," Simon said as he pinned Blair with a sharp look.

"No way. No way would I do that to you. You totally have me for thirty hours a week," Blair agreed.

"Great, that's only twenty hours a week less than I normally have you. I knew it couldn't last forever, but it was nice to feel like I had enough man hours in the department to actually get the work done for a change."

"I'll be back to working craploads of unpaid overtime before you can finish a box of cigars," Blair promised, but this time his heart pounded out an irregular pattern. Jim moved in, pushing his Guide toward the door.

"Oh, and sir," Jim said to Simon when he reached the door. "The commissioner is here, upstairs," Jim's eyes wandered up toward the ceiling.

"Oh fuck, not today," Simon groaned.

"He may be busy for a little while," Jim shrugged as he finished pushing Blair out the door. His Guide was too busy looking at him strangely to walk, so Jim just guided him toward their desks.

"He's going to be busy? What are you up to?" Blair asked.

"Just being a Sentinel," Jim answered with a wicked smile and a wink before he headed out of the bullpen.

"Jim?!" Blair called. Jim passed the elevator, and threw open the door to the stairs and pounded up the stairwell, the metal treads ringing under his heavy feet. "Jim!" Blair called from below as he ran to catch up. Jim stopped on the seventh floor landing and pushed into the hallway, looking either direction with an intentionally wild expression that sent police and one stray suspect in cuffs pressing themselves to the walls to escape his notice. Yep, an out of control Sentinel they knew how to handle, and Jim heard one officer call for someone with a tranq gun.

"Jim!" Blair called as he came storming out of the stairwell exit, and Jim took off for IA's offices as he heard the voices he wanted.

Around him, people scattered, and Blair grabbed his wrist, but Jim kept right on going, charging through the doors to IA, essentially dragging Blair with him.

"Jim, man, come on!" Blair cried out, but Jim executed a quick flip of his wrist with a sidestep guaranteed to break anyone's hold, and Blair stumbled back as Jim pulled free. Jim moved quickly, spotting Aldo and storming past a stunned redhead who sat at her desk with her mouth open.

Taking great pleasure, Jim grabbed Aldo by the front of his shirt slammed the man into the wall hard enough to make a file from on top of a cabinet flop to the floor. Jim jammed one thumb into the soft spot just below Aldo's ear, and the man made a strangled cry as he went onto his toes, squirming to get away from the pain.

"You just wanted revenge. Banks told you to back off. The judge sent me home, said you were wrong. You just keep coming after Blair. You wanted that Sentinel to listen illegally. You yelled about that. You keep coming after my guardian. Mine!" Jim roared, his face an inch from Aldo. Jim could breathe the terror-scent and see every blood vessel in the white of his eyes as Aldo's blinked as fast as his heart pounded. And best of all, Jim could hear the commissioner demanding to know what was going on. Aldo's stupidity wouldn't stand up to a close examination, and Jim knew that he was about to get examined very closely.

"Jim, come on, what are you doing?" Blair demanded as he pulled on Jim's arm. Jim drove his thumb a little harder into the pain point at Aldo's neck, and spit gathered at the edge of the man's mouth before Jim let Blair pull him away.

"Come on, Jim. Just chill out." Blair sounded desperate—desperate and confused—as he shoved Jim toward a corner of the room, blocking Jim's half-hearted attempts to get around him with his own body.

"I heard you. You wanted an illegal search. You wanted an illegal surveillance. Stay away from my bondmate," Jim shouted over Blair's shoulder.

"What is going on here?!" the commissioner bellowed, his eyes going from Jim to Aldo and back to Jim.

"He's mine," Jim snapped as his back hit the wall. Blair's hands fluttered from Jim's shoulders to his chest and back to his shoulders as Blair tried to figure out how to deal with this sudden shift in mood.

"I never... I didn't," Aldo stuttered out.

"I heard you. You're angry with my bond-mate. You said you'd get him back. Touch him and I'll break every bone in your body," Jim snapped. In another lifetime, Jim might have said those words and had the other person take them as exaggeration—hyperbole just to prove a point. Now Aldo lost all color, his face going white.

"Sentinel!" the commissioner murmured in a 'soothe the madman voice.' He stepped between Aldo and Jim, and Jim let himself focus on the man. The commissioner might have been athletic at one point, but now his wide shoulders were balanced by a wide belly and thick glasses made his eyes seem beady.

"He tried to take my bond-mate," Jim said, letting himself show a little more control before he overplayed his hand. A patrol officer showed up at the door with a tranq gun and the commissioner and Blair both held out hands to keep him from firing.

"He's okay, no tranq," Blair said.

"Hold position," the commissioner ordered. The officer kept the weapon trained on Jim, and Jim didn't even bother rolling his eyes at the incompetence. If he was truly a danger, letting him stand hip to hip with Blair's service weapon wasn't exactly smart.

"Sentinel, what did Detective Aldo do?" the commissioner asked softly. Blair glanced over his shoulder once before turning back to Jim and muttering softly for just his Sentinel's ears.

"Come on. So not worth it. You have more control than this. Whatever he said, man, it's not worth doing this. Just let it go."

Jim reached up and slipped an arm around Blair's shoulders, pulling him close as though he were a stressed Sentinel clinging to his bond-mate.

"I heard him three days ago. He asked some woman to use her Sentinel to spy on us." Jim watched while everyone in the room turned to the red-haired woman he'd stormed past when he first came charging in.

"Detective Irwin?" the captain of Internal Affairs asked, frowning as he took a step toward her.

Her eyes darted from one side of the room to the other until they came to rest on her captain. She sighed. "Yes, sir. Ray asked me if he could have Leslie listen in on Detective Sandburg and Sentinel Ellison. When he told me he had no warrant and no cause to get a warrant, I told him to back off this thing with Sandburg."

"I was doing my job," Aldo snapped, the color suddenly returning to his face with a flush of red.

"I could smell you," Jim said. "You liked seeing me chained. You want to get rid of my bond-mate. You lied to the judge."

"I did not!" Aldo said as he stepped forward, intent on defending himself. Jim snarled and pushed Blair a good two feet forward and Aldo retreated to the far wall just before Jim allowed Blair to manhandle him back.

"Detective Sandburg?" the commissioner asked. Blair wiggled around so that his back was to Jim, but Jim kept his arm around Blair, reinforcing the illusion that only Blair's presence kept him from ripping Aldo limb from bloody limb.

"He told the judge I had taken Jim in pursuit of a pedophile. I had obtained express permission that day from Captain Banks to take Jim out to the scene of the Taylor murder. The scene had already been cleared, there were no suspects on site, and other officers had secured the area. With a dozen uniforms and detectives around, there was no expectation that the pedophile would be anywhere near," Blair answered. All true, and all making Aldo look like the world's most manipulative son of a bitch, a title Jim was more than willing to nominate the man for.

"He chased the pedophile down. That's against the rules." Aldo defended himself from his corner without trying to come forward and challenge Jim again.

"That was an accident, Jim kept control the whole time, and my captain had already cleared the situation when you went to the judge," Blair practically yelled at Aldo. "Considering you were already trying to get other people involved in some illegal attempt to frame me, I don't think Jim's assumptions are that far off. You harassed me in the hospital when I was still drugged up to my gills, you threatened to make me miserable if I didn't resign, you implied that I couldn't do my job, and you did it all in front of Jim. Man, you spied and harassed and generally made a nuisance out of yourself because I busted your buddy. Boo fucking hoo!"

Now Jim tightened his arm, holding Blair back as his temper flared.

"You're hurting my bond-mate, and you came after me because it would hurt him... or maybe just because you got some sick thrill out of seeing me chained. I smelled the lust on you. You like controlling others? You like using chains in your bed?" Jim snapped. Immediately Blair abandoned his own anger and his hands stroked soothing circles on Jim's arms.

"Hey, it doesn't matter, okay? He's so not worth it. Totally not worth it. Just walk away," Blair urged him.

"Detective Sandburg, maybe you should take your Sentinel down to one of the Sentinel rooms. Detective Aldo should have his desk cleared out in an hour, and when he's gone, I'm sure Sentinel Ellison will feel much better," the commissioner offered. The room went silent.

"You can't fire me because of this long-haired hippy!" Now Aldo came out of his corner, his anger directed toward the commissioner, and Jim allowed Blair to carefully herd him back toward the door and away from the brewing confrontation. The officer with the tranq gun paced them, moving back to allow Blair and Jim to get to the door.

"I can certainly transfer you to another precinct while this is investigated. Firing you may come later."

Jim listened to the blustering and subtle threats of legal action and unions and federal charges as the elevator doors opened. Aldo and the commissioner were still going at it when the elevator doors slid closed and Jim and Blair were alone in the small space.

"Man, Aldo is not worth it. I mean, I want to gut him and hide the body, but he's totally not worth it." Blair still clung to Jim, as though expecting another explosion.

Jim bent over, scenting Blair's neck as he whispered in his Guide's ear. "That is how a Ranger gets revenge. Use every available resource, take advantage of misinformation, target what the victim values the most, and walk away without a scratch," Jim confided. Blair tipped his head up and looked at Jim with wide, shocked eyes. Jim also noticed it made the hickey on the side of his neck much more visible.

"Oh man, you are like... damn."

"Yep, aren't you glad I'm on your side?" Jim asked with a smile. The elevator opened onto the second floor, and Jim followed with his most meek expression as Blair led them toward the Sentinel rooms.

The attendant waved them through and Jim found himself in a Sentinel room with Blair, who stared at him with undisguised awe.

"He's toast, isn't he?" Blair asked.

"He's exiled to another precinct, and when the paperwork is done, he'll probably be out of a job without any pension or unemployment," Jim agreed. Blair smiled.

"Damn. Have I told you today how much I love you?" Blair asked slowly.

"Nope, but since we're stuck in here for an hour, feel free to show me any way you like," Jim offered as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

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