Sentinel fic - One Good Turn, part 3

[dimity_blue]

Part 2,

~'~

"Hey, there's my car!"

Jim grinned as he parked the truck next to the green Volvo. "That's because this is the loft."

Sandburg looked around as he got out. "Well, it looks like a street to me but if you want to call it a loft..." He trailed off and glanced at Jim, a gleam of mischief in his eyes, "After all, you are the one with the Sentinel eyesight."

"That's right. Which means I can recognise a lousy joke when I see one."

"Ha ha. Comedy Central must be missing you."

Jim grinned again as he led the way into the apartment building then stopped grinning as he discovered that the elevator wasn't working. "Okay, Chief, I hope you like stairs."

"No problem, man. Stairs are good for you."

He frowned as he followed his bouncing Guide up the stairs. Was Sandburg always this enthusiastic about exercise? Oh well, if he was, he'd appreciate it all the more when the elevator wasn't working - which seemed to be most of the time lately, regardless of what the building committee said. Jim made a mental note to contact them again and complain about the elevator. He didn't pay service charges for nothing and the elevator was definitely a service - when it worked. Unlocking the door, he showed Sandburg in. The kid would have to sleep on the couch tonight but the spare room didn't need much fixing up at all. A bit of paint and some furniture would do.

"Jim, this is great! I love the space!" Sandburg tilted his head back and stared up at the high ceilings then threw a glance over his shoulder. "Painting up there must be a challenge." His eye was caught by the balcony windows and he headed in their direction. "Wow! Check out that view."

"Not bad, huh?" Jim liked the view. It was one of the reasons he'd bought the loft in the first place.

"Not bad? On a clear day, you can see forever, man!"

"Not quite that far, Darwin, even with my eyesight." Leading the way to the spare room, Jim pushed open the door. "This'll be your room. We can pick out paint -"

"Uh...my room?"

"Yes, your room." The Sentinel turned to eye his Guide, hoping this wasn't about to turn into a battle. His Guide's stance suggested that it was.

"Jim, I have a place to live."

"Yes, Sandburg, and it's a warehouse."

"But it's my warehou - how do you know it's a warehouse?"

Jim shrugged. "I've seen it."

The kid's jaw dropped. "The truck. The blue and white truck - I knew I recognised it! I knew it was too clean the first time I saw it!"

He frowned. Sometimes Sandburg really didn't make any sense. He was about to ask for enlightenment, though he was sure he'd regret it, when the phone rang. "Hold that thought." Leaving the kid at the door to his room, Jim grabbed the receiver. "Ellison."

"Jimmy? It's Dad."

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"I'm fine. So...I hear you bonded today?"

Jim frowned at the phone. Talk about news travelling fast. "Yeah, I was gonna call you. How did you find out?"

His father sighed. "Norman Ventriss."

Of all the names his father could have said, that was one Jim did not expect. "Norman Ventriss phoned you and told you about my bonding?"

Sandburg's head snapped around as the name got his attention, and Jim waved him over then draped an arm across his shoulders, tilting the phone so they could both hear.

"Not quite, Jimmy. He was trying to get backing to take down the Clan, and your bonding was mentioned during his diatribe."

The Sentinel felt the shock that rippled through his Guide, and tightened his grip.

"You don't need to worry though. No one in Cascade is foolish enough to take on the Clan. And even if they were, they wouldn't try it - you can take my word for that."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Not a problem, son. So, when do I get to meet this Guide of yours? You are planning on introducing him to the family, aren't you?"

"Yes, Dad, I'll be introducing him to everyone."

"Good. Steven says he wants to meet the saint who's taken you on."

Jim grinned despite the stiffness of his Guide's shoulders. "Tell him to be careful of Sandburg's halo. It's crooked at the best of times."

"I'll do that, Jimmy."

"I'll call you tomorrow and set up a dinner date."

"Good. Take care of yourself, and say hi to...what did you say his name was? Sandburg?"

"Blair, Dad. Blair Sandburg."

"Say hi to Blair for me."

"I will, Dad. Bye."

"Bye, Jimmy."

Putting the phone down, Jim let the kid shrug his shoulders free and gazed at the back that was presented to him. "You okay, Chief?"

Another shrug, then Sandburg turned around. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think Ventriss would try to target the Clan, I -"

"Hold up, Sandburg, Ventriss' actions aren't your responsibility. He's pissed because his son was killed - I did that."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't -"

"Brad Ventriss was a rogue Sentinel. Sooner or later, someone would have had to take him down. And better that it was now, like this, than after he'd bonded to some Guide. Ventriss can try to make all the trouble he wants. He can't harm the Clan and he can't harm the Senior Sentinel Prime or his Guide. And, believe me, if he tries to come after me personally, he'll find my dad has enough clout to take him on financially."

There was another shrug and Jim let the subject drop. Time would show his Guide there was nothing to worry about. In the meantime....

"Now, all we have to do is decide what colour to paint your room." He laid his arm across Sandburg's shoulders again and steered him back to the open door. "I'm thinking pink."

"Pink?!"

"You like pink? Good, pink it is."

"No, Jim! Definitely no pink!"

Jim sighed. "You're so fussy, Sandburg, you know that?"

~'~

Staring up at the ceiling, Blair thought back over the day. He shouldn't have bonded with Jim, he knew that now. Bonding with Jim had made him a target for Ventriss' anger too. Sure, Ventriss would have been furious with Jim anyway, but he probably would have been satisfied with purging his anger on the no-good Guide who'd 'lured' Brad to his death.

Sighing, Blair turned over on the couch. There was no way that Ventriss was going to let this go. And if Ventriss was anything like his son, revenge was going to be the only thing on his mind.

"Sandburg!"

His breath caught in his throat for a moment, then he relaxed. "Yeah?"

"Go to sleep. I can hear you thinking all the way up here." Listening, he heard Jim turn over in bed. "Don't make me come down there and deal with you."

He smiled, in spite of it all. "Okay, Jim, I'm going to sleep now."

"Good." There was a pause then, "Don't worry about it, Chief. It'll be fine."

'Easy for you to say, man.' "Okay. Night, Jim." Blair shut his eyes determinedly. Maybe if he went to see Ventriss? Maybe if he explained? Maybe he could talk the guy around. Somehow.

~'~

Of course, like the best laid plans, things did not go quite as Blair planned. For a start, he had failed to take into account the fact that he was newly bonded and that his Sentinel was extremely reluctant to let him out of his sight for longer than strictly necessary.

"Jim?"

His Sentinel looked up from the mountain of paperwork that was threatening to collapse his desk.

"I'm just heading over to Rainier to drop off some papers. I'll be back later, okay?"

"I'll drive you."

"It's fine, Jim. I'll catch a bus."

"It'll be quicker if I drive you." Jim grabbed his jacket then steered Blair towards the elevator. "We'll grab lunch on the way back and then you can help with my paperwork."

"You didn't bond with me just to get a secretary, did you, Jim?"

"Sandburg! What an idea!" The smirk on Jim's face said it all.

"Yeah, right."

Once they were back in the bullpen, with Jim casting odd looks at Blair's healthy choice of sandwich, Blair buckled down to the paperwork and started clearing Jim's backlog of reports. For some reason, Captain Banks, Jim's boss, was not keen on the way Jim wrote his reports, although Blair could see why Jim believed that, as they contained all the salient points, everyone should be happy with them.

Blair guessed that, "Knew store clerk was guilty. Arrested him," wasn't enough for the paper pushers who dwelt 'upstairs' somewhere in City Hall.

~'~

Two days of being practically joined at the hip later, Blair's chance came when Jim was called into a meeting with a bunch of bureaucrats. For a moment, Jim hovered by the desk, his desire to keep his Guide with him clearly at odds with the desire to keep his Guide from dying of boredom.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Jim." Blair made sure to keep his voice calm. If he gave one hint of nervousness, he'd either end up being dragged into the meeting or handed over to another Sentinel for safekeeping.

"We'll keep an eye on him, Jim," Brown, one of the other detectives Blair had met that morning, offered.

Jim's gaze turned to the nearby desk as Brown and his partner, Rafe, were weighed up as possible protectors of Jim's Guide. The muscle in his jaw flexed, then he nodded slowly. "Thanks, H."

As he turned back to his Guide, Blair spoke up hurriedly. "It'll be okay."

"Okay." Jim hovered for a few more seconds, then finally left.

Blair sighed.

"Never mind, Hairboy," Henri told him, coming to perch on the edge of the desk. "Jim'll be back soon."

"I know, H., thanks." Blair smiled and turned his attention back to the paperwork. All he needed now was a way to get out of the bullpen without Henri and Rafe noticing.

His chance came sooner than he'd hoped as first Henri then Rafe were called away. Rafe paused in the doorway.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Blair smiled reassuringly, incredibly glad that Rafe was not a Sentinel and therefore could not detect anything out of the ordinary. "Yeah, positive."

"Well, H. should be back in a few minutes."

"Yeah, I know." He watched Rafe hover thinking that if the guy didn't get a move on, Henri would be back before Rafe had gone. "Rafe!"

"Huh?"

"Go. I'll be fine."

"Okay, well...if you're sure."

"Positive," Blair repeated. He waited until Rafe was out of sight then dropped his already scribbled note on the desk and grabbed his jacket and backpack. While he would, hopefully, be back before Jim was, there was no point in leaving his Sentinel to worry. Although how calming he'd find, "Jim. Back soon. Don't worry. Blair," was another matter.

Exiting the police station, he glanced around, feeling vaguely paranoid. No one seemed to be paying him any attention and he was glad of it as he really didn't want a repeat of the other day. He headed off down the street to find a phone booth that wasn't too close to the station; there was no point in giving his Sentinel the slip if he was going to stand outside the P.D., in full view, phoning hotels in an attempt to find Norman Ventriss.

Phone booths were a-plenty, it was finding an unvandalised phone booth that proved to be a challenge but Blair finally found one and dived into it with all the relief of a homing pigeon after a long flight. Grabbing the receiver, he fed a chunk of change into the machine, pulled up the phonebook and looked through 'hotels'. Ignoring all the ones that advertised full colour TVs or vibrating beds, he started with the ones that didn't bother to list a price. Seven hotels later, he hit paydirt.

It wasn't until he got out of the cab outside the hotel that doubts assailed him. He really didn't think that Ventriss would go crazy and try to kill him in the hotel lobby; at least, he hoped he wouldn't. In any case, as Jim's Guide, he had to try to talk Ventriss out of this stupid desire for revenge, although he made a mental note to not refer to it as 'stupid' in any way, shape or form. Staring up at the impressive facade of the over-priced hotel, he stiffened his backbone and headed inside.

~'~

"What the -" Edwards threw his newspaper on the floor and shoved his cell phone into David's hands, ignoring the surprise that rippled through their bond. "Call Ellison," he growled, then set off across the lobby floor. Damned Guides! He'd known from the start that Ellison's Guide was a trouble magnet but he hadn't expected the short, scruffy, pain in the ass to go out looking for trouble. And yet here he was, alone, defenceless, in the lobby of Norman Ventriss' hotel. Well, if Edwards didn't kill him, Ellison certainly would.

The kid took a moment to appreciate the view of the reception desk, and Edwards' mouth quirked a smile in spite of himself; David had been appreciative of the same lovely receptionist. He followed as Sandburg headed towards the bank of phones and extended his hearing to listen in even as he stalked his prey. There was no need for subtlety; Sandburg's attention was concentrated on whatever he was up to and Edwards doubted if he'd notice if a brass band were to march through the lobby.

"Could I have Mr. Norman Ventriss' room, please?"

Edwards ignored the stereo input as he heard the girl on the reception desk through the phone as well as from across the lobby, and reached over Sandburg's shoulder to gently lay a hand on the cradle of the phone.

He smiled as it took a few seconds for the silence on the line to filter through to the kid, then Sandburg's gaze went from the hand on the phone, up Edwards' arm until their eyes met.

"Sentinel Edwards!" The kid's eyes looked as though they were about to fall out of his head.

"Senior Guide Prime. Where's your Sentinel?"

His gaze darted about for a few seconds but Edwards knew he was looking for an answer as opposed to looking for his Sentinel.

"Well, why don't we go and sit down while we wait for him?" Keeping a smile on his face, in spite of his gritted teeth, Edwards took the receiver and placed it back on the cradle, then wrapped a hand around Sandburg's arm to escort him to their seats. After the incident with the sage in the car, he didn't trust the kid not to take off on the spot.

"The Senior Sentinel Prime is on his way," David murmured as they sat next to him.

Sandburg groaned. "Oh, God."

"No, your Sentinel," Edwards smiled grimly, "although you might be able to appease him by treating him like a God for the next few days." His smile grew as the Guide at his side slid further down in his chair. Yep, payback was a bitch.

~'~

"Edwards, David," Jim's voice was icily polite as he stood over the three of them, "thank you for minding my Guide. Sandburg."

"Hey, Jim." Blair kept his voice calm and even, although he had no doubt that the two Sentinels were picking up on his racing heartbeat. His heartbeat raced even more when Jim grasped his arm firmly and helped him out of his chair.

"Let's go."

In spite of everything, including the manically twitching muscle in his jaw, Jim remained silent until they got to the loft. Blair was surprised he'd managed to hold it that long.

The door was shut, locked and chained behind them, and Blair eyed it with disquiet. Was Jim expecting him to make a break for it?

"Would you care to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?"

Blair took a deep breath, fighting to keep his calm. "Going to see Ventriss to try to persuade him to leave the Clan alone."

He watched as Jim paced back and forth furiously. "Alone? By yourself? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if Edwards hadn't been watching Ventriss?"

"Edwards and David," Blair corrected.

"What?" Jim stopped pacing to stare at him.

"Edwards and David. Do you guys even realise you're doing it?"

Jim looked nonplussed, as though the argument he'd been intending to have had taken a sharp right into the Sandburg Zone.

"Edwards," Blair repeated. "Edwards was watching Ventriss. Not 'Edwards and David', although David was there, you know. He was doing his part."

"I know he was doing his part!"

"So what did you think I was doing?"

"What?" Jim's jaw muscle was dancing faster than Baryshnikov.

"What did you think I was doing?" Blair enunciated the words carefully. Then, as Jim looked at him blankly, he continued, "I was protecting the Clan, Jim. That's what I was doing."

Jim shook his head in return. "Sandburg -"

"Yeah, I know. Sentinels protect Guides and Guides...what? Hide under the bed? Do nothing? Or do nothing but support their Sentinels?" He stalked forward and poked Jim in the chest. "I was doing my duty as Senior Guide Prime. And don't you forget it."

His wrists were caught and held by the still-angry Sentinel. "I realise that you were doing your duty, Sandburg, but you didn't have to do it in such an inane, brainless and reckless way. Ventriss could have killed you!"

Blair tugged on his wrists. "He was hardly likely to kill me in the lobby and that's where I was planning to meet up with him." He pulled again, but Jim wasn't taking the hint and letting go. "If anyone is going to have a chance to talk him out of going for revenge, it's you or me. And you're not trying to talk to him - you're having him watched."

The fingers tightened slightly. "To make sure that he doesn't attack my Guide, the Clan or me. I sure as hell don't want you wandering in there trying to talk to him - it's dangerous!"

Blair sighed. "Jim, I realise that you're only trying to protect me and the Clan but can't you see that I need to protect you and the Clan too?"

His wrists were released and the Sentinel turned away, his teeth grinding.

"It's okay for you to put yourself in dangerous situations to protect the Clan or the tribe...or me, isn't it?"

"That's different!" The answer sounded like an angry cat's snarl.

"How is it different, Jim? Because Guides are weaker? We can defend ourselves too, you know!"

With a speed that stole his breath, he was grabbed, yanked to the floor and his Sentinel rolled them over to pin him in place.

"I didn't see you defending yourself there, Sandburg."

He stared up into the Sentinel's eyes, his body taut with resistance. "You are stronger than I am, Jim. I know that."

"So where's your argument now?"

"Sentinels are stronger than most people, including their Guides. It doesn't mean that Guides are less than Sentinels," he spoke over the Sentinel when he tried to answer, "or more in need of protection! Men are generally stronger than women. Does that mean that women can't defend themselves? Can't join the Armed Forces or be a fireman, coastguard or cop?"

"That's a totally different argument, Sandburg, and you know it!"

"Is it?" He sat up as Jim rolled off him to sit by his hip. "This is a partnership, Jim - a partnership of equals. It's symbiotic; you need me and I need you. That doesn't make me less able to defend myself even though my defences aren't brute strength and sheer physical mass!" His voice softened, "I trust you to watch my back, Jim, I trust you one hundred percent." He laid a hand on his Sentinel's arm, letting the bond flare. "Don't you trust me to watch yours?"

"Yes." Jim sighed but shook his head. "But I can't and won't see you walk into a dangerous situation - no Sentinel could see their Guide do that, and you can't expect them to change!"

"I wasn't going to go leaping into a house fire or tangle with machine gun wielding maniacs; I was trying to meet Ventriss to talk with him. And it wasn't going to be that dangerous, Jim. I was going to ask him to meet me in the lobby - with witnesses."

"Witnesses who had no idea that you needed protecting."

"I don't need protecting, Jim." Blair sighed. Was it hard-wired into their brains or something? 'Protect the Guide; treat the Guide like he's made of glass.'

"I think we're gonna have to agree to disagree on that, Sandburg." The tone in the Sentinel's voice and the glint in his eye suggested that 'agreeing to disagree' was not going to change a thing.

"Maybe we are. As long as you don't try to stop me from doing what I think is necessary."

Jim's tone was grim. "And as long as you accept that I'll do what I think is necessary."

His answer was lost as the Sentinel pushed him flat and moved to claim him. The bond flared as strong teeth bit into his neck, marking their territory and, as he spiralled down into incoherent euphoria, his last thought was that if he had to fight his own Sentinel for equality, then he would.

~'~

"Senior Sentinel Prime."

"Edwards."

Edwards put the coffee pot down and stepped back. A quick glance around the room confirmed what his senses had already told him: the Senior Guide Prime was not present.

"He's at my desk."

Naturally, Ellison had worked out who he was looking for. Edwards gave a brief nod, although he was surprised that Ellison trusted his Guide to stay put after yesterday. Although he hadn't said a word, an eyebrow quirked in his direction.

"He knows better than to disappear on me again."

Edwards scanned the room again, this time to make sure they were alone. "Did he explain what he was up to?" If the Senior Sentinel Prime objected to discussing his Guide, he'd certainly say so, but Edwards was prepared to risk a snub to satisfy his curiosity.

Ellison sighed. "He was hoping to talk Ventriss out of whatever revenge he's got planned for us."

In spite of himself, Edwards' eyebrows shot skywards. That had been the only possible reason he'd been able to think of for Blair to go and see Ventriss, but he still felt surprised when Ellison confirmed it. The kid had guts, he'd give him that.

"I know." Ellison shook his head. "He said, and I quote, that it was his duty to protect the tribe."

Guts and a stubborn streak, if Ellison's displeasure was anything to go by. "Well, he is the Senior Guide Prime."

He earned a glare for that. "I know that! It's just..." Ellison put the coffee pot down and turned to face him. "He's my Guide."

"And you'd rather he didn't put himself in that kind of situation."

There was a slight grinding of teeth, then Ellison smiled ruefully. "He's got some weird kind of idea that Guides are seen as less than equal. That we treat them like they're made of glass because we don't think they can deal with danger."

Edwards snorted, indignantly. "That's nonsense!"

"That's what I told him." From the look that Ellison was giving him, his convictions had been challenged. "How would you react if David put himself in danger?"

The Sentinel in Edwards surged forward, ready to challenge the Senior Sentinel Prime for merely thinking of such a thing, but he forced it back, determinedly; Ellison wasn't suggesting he put David in danger, no Sentinel would suggest that about a Guide. "Well...I... I'd..." He gave it up and admitted, "I'd drag him out of there and shake him until his teeth rattled."

"Even if it was to save you?"

"I can take care of myself!" he snapped. David in danger? The very idea gave him the shudders.

"And David can't?"

"He's my Guide!"

Ellison leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "That's Sandburg's point."

Edwards scowled, grinding his teeth as he did so. "What's Sandburg's point? That I should let my Guide be put in danger?"

"That Sentinels refuse to let their Guides watch their backs because they are Guides."

"Okay, Ellison, you may be able to understand the kid, but he's lost me. What exactly is he suggesting we do? Put our Guides out there with no kind of protection at all?"

"He's saying that if we put ourselves in danger, we should accept it when our Guides do the same."

"Stuff and nonsense! Protecting Guides is what being a Sentinel is all about! We can't do any less. Why if David were to...to...walk into Ventriss' hotel and try to meet him, I'd tie him up in our apartment until he's learnt some sense!"

"And yet, he's the Guide Prime."

"I don't care! If it's a choice between him being Guide Prime or me keeping him safe, I'll -" He bit his lip, suddenly realising where Ellison was going with this. "I'll put the tribe before my own safety but I won't let David do the same."

"Exactly."

"With all due respect, Senior Sentinel Prime, does the Senior Guide Prime intend to upset all our conventions?" Edwards demanded, acerbically. "If so, tell me now and I'll buy stocks in ulcer medicine!"

"Only those he can get away with, Edwards." Ellison's face became grim. "And putting himself, or any Guide, in danger, is not one he'll succeed in."

"Does he know that?"

"He will."

Ellison left, taking two cups of coffee with him, and Edwards glared down at the coffee pot. Okay, if he was honest, Guides weren't treated the same as Sentinels but... His thoughts went to his own Guide, and he softened. If he had to destroy all of Cascade to keep David safe, he'd do it, and he knew that Ellison felt the same way about Sandburg. He shook his head. Let Sandburg rail against accepted convention all he wanted. If he was hoping to revolutionise the Clan and put Guides out there, in as much danger as Sentinels faced on far too regular a basis, he was doomed to disappointment.

~'~

Life gradually calmed down, as much as it ever could when Sentinels, Guides and police officers are involved. The media attention that had been worsened by Brad Ventriss' death, died down, and Norman Ventriss, his business badly damaged by William Ellison and his cronies, returned to Bismarck and set about rebuilding his empire. This led to a more relaxed atmosphere among the members of the Cascade Clan as the Bismarck Clan, (of whom Brad Ventriss had most certainly never been a member), had sworn to let them know if Norman Ventriss left North Dakota or contacted any high-priced 'terminators'.

Even the slight strain that had been evident between the Senior Sentinel Prime and his Guide seemed to have disappeared as Blair settled into life as the Senior Guide Prime.

Blair had to admit, it wasn't all bad. He liked working with Jim, he liked working in the P.D., and it was amazing how often his anthropological background came in handy when helping Jim investigate cases. If there was a drawback, and there was, it was the fact that he was all too aware of the protection thrown up around him; not just as a Sentinel's Guide but also as the Senior Guide Prime.

Tuesday was a prime example, no pun intended, of the over-protection he was 'enjoying'.

Blair had always found his office hours to be convenient. If students needed help or wanted to discuss their grades, they knew when and where to find him - as opposed to chasing him down at inconvenient moments and making him late for class. If no students turned up, well, it gave him a couple of hours twice a week to get some of his own work done (assuming Ric and Matt didn't turn up and spend the two hours goofing off in his office). So, in every respect, Ric and Matt excepting, Blair's office hours were useful and smooth-running. Until Tuesday.

It wasn't until Baxter Page was sitting in the chair opposite him, waving his hands wildly as he protested the very unfair (in his opinion) 'E' grade he'd been given, that Blair realised why Baxter's essays had suddenly become incomprehensible and full of inaccuracies. The kid was high on drugs.

Blair began to try to calm Baxter down. He had a marked lack of success as the kid surged to his feet and started waving his fists in Blair's direction, all the while telling him exactly what would happen to him if he didn't alter his grade, "And pronto, Tonto!"

"Look, Baxter, just take a deep breath -" Blair needed to take a deep breath himself then as his door almost came off its hinges as Sentinel Selby came bursting through it, with Tony, his Guide, on his heels.

Within seconds, Baxter's face was up close and personal with the plaster on Blair's office walls, while Tony phoned the Senior Sentinel Prime and campus security.

Security arrived at pretty much the same time as Jim did, which was fortunate for Baxter as the Senior Sentinel Prime was extremely displeased at the thought of someone vocally abusing his Guide. Baxter took one look at the livid Sentinel, the happy haze of drugs almost instantly evaporating from his system as old forgotten urges screamed 'fight or flight', and meekly accompanied security from the office.

As soon as Baxter was out of the office, Blair was yanked to Jim's side, one heavy hand running over his head and shoulders as his frantic Sentinel checked that he was unharmed.

Blair tried to calm his Sentinel down by leaning into him and soothingly stroking his arm. "Jim, I'm fine, really."

"We're going home."

The arm around his waist tightened as he stiffened in resistance. "I have office hours, Jim."

"We're going home."

Blair ground his teeth, a habit which he was positive he'd picked up from his Sentinel. He knew, oh how he knew, that if the Guide were threatened, the Sentinel had a few stock responses: defend Guide; get Guide back to own territory; bond with Guide. He suspected that responses two and three were the ones he was facing. His innate stubbornness had him attempting to dig his heels in as Jim pulled him towards the door. "Jim! I'm not going home now - I need to mark these books!" Giving it up, he grabbed for what blue books he could reach, and snagged his backpack from the sympathetic Tony as they passed him.

"At least let me put them away!"

His words were totally ignored as he was hauled outside and practically shoved into the truck.

"For God's sake, Jim, give me a minute!" Blair snapped, as he stuffed the books into his backpack. There really weren't enough of them; he'd left more than half the pile behind. Blair was not at all impressed with the turn of events. Okay, his Sentinel was upset that he'd almost been attacked by a student, but hauling him out of there like this was a bit much. He tried to push his Sentinel back as that worthy (or unworthy) individual reached for the seatbelt, and said, soothingly, "Look, Jim...I'll just fetch the rest of the blue books and then I'll be -"

Jim slammed the seatbelt buckle shut with a distinct 'thunk' and glared at Blair.

Okay, he wasn't leaving the truck. "Or you could fetch them, I don't mind."

His door slammed shut and Jim stalked around the front of the truck to get into the driver's seat.

"Or I'll do without them. That's okay too," Blair commented, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Sighing, he added, more to himself than to Jim, "Maybe I can stay late tomorrow night to mark the rest."

He got a growl for that comment, and sighed again. He guessed staying late anywhere was out of the question right now.

Once back at the loft, he was all but dragged out of the truck and into the elevator which was, for once, working. Blair was relieved. From the look on Jim's face, if the elevator hadn't been working, he would have shot it.

Upstairs and in the loft itself, Blair's backpack was tugged from his hand and thrown to one side.

"You know, big guy," Blair commented, his sense of humour rearing its ugly head, "if I did that you'd quote the House Rules at me." His jacket was yanked off him and thrown in the direction of the backpack. "But oh no, it's one rule for Sentinels and one rule for Gui-iiii -" He was pushed flat on the hearthrug and looked his Sentinel in the eye. "That's right, push the little guy around."

His Sentinel growled. Jim really didn't like it when Blair made snide comments during bonding.

"I don't mind. Just flatten me as well. See? No problem."

His wrists were grabbed and held above his head, even though he wasn't attempting to resist, and then his Sentinel growled in his face.

"Ooh, I'm scared, man." Tilting his head back he muttered, "Bite me, Jim!"

He grinned as his Sentinel nipped at his neck, then sighed as the bonding heat flooded through him. No wonder Guides didn't mind bonding, he thought, vaguely. Really. If they sold this as a drug, the entire country would be addicted.

~'~

Sitting at the table later while marking his meagre amount of blue books, Blair's mind returned to the whole 'overprotection' issue and he fumed quietly about it. His mother had enjoyed travelling to different parts of the world and, after she had had her son, had seen no point in not taking advantage of the wide education the world had to offer. Therefore, Blair was well-travelled before he reached the age of independence, and the Arctic and Antarctic were the only continents he could not claim to have lived on for any length of time. Even after he'd joined Rainier, he'd signed up for as many anthropological expeditions as he could.

And now? It was presumed that he couldn't cross the street without a Sentinel near at hand to stop the traffic if need be.

He shook his head and cast a fulminating look at the back of his Sentinel's head. Jim was sitting on the couch with the contented air of a well-fed cat, while Blair was at the kitchen table grading those books. And he knew all too well that he could forget returning to Rainier to retrieve any more; sneaking out without his Sentinel noticing was about as likely as Chancellor Edwards developing a compassionate streak.

Even the aforementioned university official, a long-standing thorn in Blair's side, was being nice to him - a stunning turnaround which he knew was totally due to his change in circumstances. He never thought he'd miss the snide remarks or acidic looks she used to throw his way, but missing them he was.

Lost in thought, he was brought back to the kitchen as a large, familiar hand placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"How's it going, Chief?"

For a second, Blair was stymied, then the blue books returned to his mind. "Oh, fine, man. I'm almost finished." Of course, that was due to the fact that most of the books he should have been grading were still in his office. Not that that mattered to his smirking Sentinel.

"Good. The game's on in half an hour and Simon's on his way over with pizza."

"I'll be done in a few minutes. Thanks."

As Blair was sitting at the table with Jim standing over him, he had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. He suddenly realised that he was exposing his throat when the intent blue gaze dropped slightly and the Sentinel's fingers curled possessively.

For a moment, Blair was caught in that stare, not moving, barely breathing, then Jim sniffed the air. "Simon's here."

As Jim moved past the table to open the door, Blair dropped his head forward and grinned. He knew what they'd be doing (again) once Simon had left. His grin widened. Okay, bonding was definitely a perk of being bonded.

~'~

The next day saw Blair practically chained to Jim as the Sentinel refused to let his Guide out of his sight. Sighing to himself, Blair phoned Rainier's personnel office, again, to let them know that he wouldn't be in. Fortunately, a few colleagues still owed him enough favours for him to have his classes covered and, as Chancellor Edwards was totally star struck with having the bonded Guide of the Senior Sentinel Prime on her staff, he wouldn't catch any flak from her about missing a day.

Grinding his teeth slightly, Blair made a promise to himself that the very next day would see the start of his campaign to get Sentinels to recognise that Guides were not delicate flowers who'd wither in a sharp breeze without their Sentinels to provide shelter and safety. Sitting in Jim's truck, he cast a glance at his own personal 'shelter and safety'. He had no chance of starting his campaign that day, he knew that. He'd count himself lucky if didn't find himself taking bathroom breaks in 'shelter and safety' too.

The day after saw him back at the P.D., this time on one of his scheduled days there and, as he and Jim were working with Edwards and David, it gave him a chance to involve Guide Sutherland in his fight for equality. Not that he was going to tell David they were fighting for equality; David liked the quiet life too much. No, so far as David was concerned, they'd merely be collecting lunch for their Sentinels. Blair had no doubts that Jim, (and probably Edwards too, as he had a suspicious nature), would realise though, and he grinned at the thought.

"Lunch?"

"Yeah, Jim, lunch. You know, sandwiches, coffee. Food." Blair smiled at the two Sentinels. "David and I can go to the Deli and pick up whatever you guys want and bring it back. Can't we, David?"

"I don't mind," David quietly agreed. "I mean, if you and Sentinel Ellison want to continue working, that is, Neds."

Blair stopped himself from rolling his eyes. When people thought of a typical Guide, they had David Sutherland in mind; shy, compliant, obedient and not one to put himself forward. He grinned as he caught the glare Edwards was throwing his way as the Sentinel read his body language. Even thinking criticism about a Guide was frowned on by a Sentinel.

"Okay." Jim dug into his pocket and brought out his wallet. "Lunch for four then." The hard stare he gave Blair told him that Jim knew what he was up to and didn't approve in the slightest, but he was letting him 'prove' whatever it was he was setting out to prove. "And, Chief? None of that healthy stuff you're always pushing on me. I'll have one of Antonio's specials."

Keeping the smile on his face with an effort, Blair replied, "Sure, Jim. One heart attack on a baguette coming up."

Blair made sure that they went there and back in record time - after all, there was no point in proving how self-sufficient Guides were if they got lost, kidnapped or mugged on the way. And soon the four of them were eating, drinking and attempting to avoid dropping mayonnaise on the photographic evidence.

"So, did you have any trouble finding your way, Chief?"

Blair ignored the dig at his directional abilities, (he knew he could get lost on a straight road), but took the opportunity offered him. "Not at all. Well, there was a savage poodle who attempted to attack us, but we told it that we're bonded Guides and our Sentinels would be bound to come leaping to our rescue if he even tried to sniff us. So, he left us alone and chased a car instead." Ignoring the three pairs of eyes that fixed themselves upon him, Blair smiled sweetly and turned his attention back to his sandwich.

"But, Blair," David replied, sounding rather confused, "we didn't see any poodles."

Edwards choked.

~'~

For a week or so after that, Blair's campaign went well. Every time he was at the P.D., he made a point of going to fetch lunch or run errands, frequently dragging any other unlucky Guide he encountered along the way. Not, as he pointed out to Jim late one evening, that he was into running errands for Sentinels and Jim better hadn't get used to it. Jim merely smiled and asked him to fetch the remote control from the coffee table which was all of eighteen inches away. Blair smiled in return and happily lobbed the remote control at his Sentinel's head before attempting to escape into his room. As he was chased, grabbed and tickled into submission, he reflected, as well he could while shrieking for mercy, that sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, his entire campaign went to pot.

"Hey, David, Sentinel Edwards."

As usual, David was ensconced at his Sentinel's side, happily working on paperwork. "Hi, Blair."

"Blair." Edwards nodded in Blair's direction and turned his attention back to his paperwork.

"I'm just going to the deli and to the bank. Do you need anything?"

David exchanged a glance with his Sentinel, then stood up and grabbed his jacket. "I'll go with you, if you like."

"Sure." Blair frowned slightly as David put his jacket on and followed him to the elevator. His Sentinel, sneaky as Jim undoubtedly was, wasn't having him guarded by David, was he? Blair shook his head. Sentinel Edwards would never stand for that...surely. Doubts assailed him as he looked back over the past week. Even when he hadn't invited anyone to go with him on one of his self-imposed errands, he'd always ended up with company. Damn! He kicked himself. Jim really was craftier than he'd assumed. Since he'd made such a fuss about being guarded by Sentinels, it was obvious that he was now being guarded by Guides. And while it was great that their Sentinels thought they were capable of the job, it meant that he wasn't winning any kind of independence back at all.

"Blair, are you okay?"

He smiled and strengthened his barriers, hiding his annoyance. It really wasn't David's fault that Jim was such a sneaky son of a.... "Sure, I'm fine."

"Okay."

Blair could feel the other Guide's doubt, but David let it drop, for now, although Blair was positive Edwards would hear all about it later.

Stopping at the ATM, Blair groaned as he saw the 'out of service' sign flashing.

"It's okay, there's no one in there," David told him, glancing through the doors.

Blair glanced at the clock he could see inside the bank. He guessed it was too early for the lunchtime crowd. "I'll use the ATM inside then - assuming it's working."

Stepping inside, Blair was hit by an atmosphere of fear and he knew that David was picking up on it too. Glancing around wildly, the pair tried to back out of the doors but a large security guard wearing an oddly ill-fitting uniform grabbed Blair's arm and yanked him further into the bank. To Blair's dismay, David, instead of getting out, promptly stopped retreating and followed them. He really was going to have to have a word with Jim about being protected by Guides who had no sense of self-preservation.

"Larry! We got another two."

A masked face appeared over the edge of the counter, the eyes glittering deep within the eyeholes. "I thought you were going to stop anyone from coming in!" Larry snapped in return, his voice shaking nervously.

The one whom Blair mentally named 'Moe' looked dismayed. "They were inside before I could stop 'em!" he whined.

"Leave them here and get back to the door - and keep everyone else out!"

As Moe stepped back, the door to the bank's 'inner workings' opened, and a well-built, masked figure stood there, beckoning them on with the large gun in his hand.

Calmly, Blair headed towards him, with David at his heels. The fear in the bank wasn't just from any staff or customers; the three bank robbers were petrified as well.

Curly stepped back, then shut the door firmly behind them as soon as they were inside. "O-over there."

Larry stood up as they approached, four well-stuffed holdalls lying at his feet. There were quite a few people sitting against the back wall, their hands and feet securely tied and gags covering the lower half of their faces. "Okay, let's tie them up and get out of here." He pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and aimed it at them, his hand trembling slightly. "Sit down."

Blair sank to the floor, keeping his hands in plain view and hoping David had the sense to do the same.

"You," Larry's gun waved in Blair's general direction, "slide over there, and lie face down."

Blair felt David's apprehension spike but he didn't move as Blair slid away and put his face to the floor; Curly's gun following his every move. Inwardly, he was cursing heartily. If he had to choose between nervous amateurs or calm professionals, he'd take the calm ones, thank you very much. Professional bank robbers were less likely to make mistakes and, unless they were violent, rarely wasted their time harming their hostages as long as they didn't attempt to interfere; they focussed on getting the job done and getting out with as much money as possible. Amateurs like these were far more likely to end up shooting someone by mistake or setting off alarms, which usually led to a stand-off with the police that ended in more than one death.

"Sit up."

Blair sat up and risked a glance at David who was now sitting with his hands and feet tied. He was pale faced but seemed calm enough.

Larry produced some more rope and tied Blair's hands together in front of him, then rummaged in the bag at his side. His fear heightened as whatever he was looking for wasn't found. "We're outta gags!" he snapped, turning the bag upside down and shaking it. His face turned towards Curly. "What are we gonna do?"

"That's okay, man, it's fine," Blair interrupted, his voice quiet. "No one outside would hear us if we shouted anyway - there's too much traffic around."

"Yeah. Yeah!" Larry stood up and paced for a second, then knelt to check Blair's bindings. "Yeah! You-you just stay quiet, you hear me?"

Blair nodded and saw David nodding quickly too.

Larry checked David's bindings then his eyes flickered up and met Blair's gaze briefly. "We don't wanna hurt anyone, we just want to take the money and get out. So, you keep quiet until we're gone and you'll be fine. Okay?"

"I hear that, man," Blair replied, quietly. "You don't have to worry about us."

"Good!" Larry stood up. "Benny! C'mon, we're outta here!"

Blair wondered who on earth Benny was, then realised it was Moe as that figure lumbered into view, panic on his face.

"Larry! There's a cop car outside!"

"No!" Larry cursed as he stomped up and down for a moment, then he pointed towards Blair and David. "We'll take them as hostages. Get 'em in the car!"

The ropes were ripped from their ankles as the pair were yanked to their feet and pushed towards a door with Larry and Moe panicking behind them every inch of the way. As they headed out of a back door, Blair's mind was whirling with two things. The first was a determination that both he and David would get out of this without a scratch, regardless of what he had to do to the three stooges accompanying them, and the second...he was never going to be able to persuade Jim to relax his 'protect the Guide!' attitude now.

~'~

Jim frowned as he looked at the clock. Given his Guide's recent determination to avoid even the impression of worrying his Sentinel, he'd practically been able to time how long it took Sandburg to get to the deli and back to the second. He knew that Sandburg had wanted to call in at the bank but, even so, he should have been back by now.

"Ellison!"

Giving the clock another annoyed glance, he headed into Simon's office. Three seconds later he came barrelling back out of the door, raced down the corridor, and collided with Edwards by the elevator.

"Tell me Sandburg's bank isn't Cascade National!" Edwards demanded, as frightened people threw themselves out of the elevator to let the two manic Sentinels have it to themselves.

"And there's been a bank robbery there," Jim growled in return, listening to the sound of Edwards' teeth grinding.

"That's it, Ellison. I don't care how unhappy your Guide is - he's a trouble magnet and he needs protecting!"

"Don't worry. After this, if Sandburg wants to go anywhere without me, it'll be with a full complement of bodyguards."

Once in the bank, it became obvious that all the hostages at the scene had been released, and that there had been no injuries or fatalities. Unfortunately, there were also no Guides.

~'~

Sitting in the back of the car, David glanced at the bank robber at his side, then at the Senior Guide Prime at his other side. Slowly, he inhaled and then exhaled, feeling his stomach muscles tremble as he restrained his urge to hyperventilate, then Blair's hand patted his arm comfortingly. He really didn't know how Blair was keeping so calm; his own thoughts were all over the place. One second, he'd be thinking that he really had to keep Blair safe, then he'd be worrying what Neds would be thinking, and how badly Neds was going to react once they got back. Neds really hadn't been happy about Sentinel Ellison's determination to allow Blair some leeway in how much protection he had - even if that leeway was surface only. And Neds definitely hadn't been happy about the idea that the other Guides could keep an eye on Blair. He really hadn't thought that was a good idea.

David glanced around at the three bank robbers in the car. He was going to have to agree with Neds on that score; wuss though he might be, he had to admit that he'd give a fortune to have Neds sitting at his side, knowing that he could depend on his Sentinel to keep them both safe, because that was what Sentinels did and it was about time Blair just accepted it. Blair was smart and resourceful and he really was being amazingly calm about this, maybe he got kidnapped on a regular basis or something, although David was sure he'd have heard if Blair did, after all, Guides talked to each a lot, in fact David didn't know any Guide who didn't like to talk and -

There was the sign for the freeway. It looked like the car was heading out of the city with them in it.

With a start, he realised that he'd completely lost the thread of whatever he was thinking about. Glancing around the car again, he also realised that he didn't care what he'd been thinking about; he wanted to be safe back in the P.D. with Neds.

~'~

Blair sighed to himself as he patted David's arm comfortingly. David was panicking; he could feel it. He really hoped it hadn't occurred to David yet that the bank robbers had removed their masks. If it did, David had to realise what Blair had realised: the bank robbers couldn't let them go.

Of course, it was possible that it wouldn't occur to Larry, Benny and the totally misnamed and shaven-headed Curly that their hostages had seen their faces and would be able to identify them. Possible, but not that probable, given the way Larry kept eyeballing him in the rear view mirror. Blair wished Larry would keep his mind, and his eyes, on the road. At the rate they were travelling, it really wasn't going to do anyone any good if he crashed the car.

And, assuming they reached Cascade's outer limits safely, Blair had an ace up his sleeve. He just hoped he'd get to play that ace before Larry used his gun to trump Blair's hand for good.

~'~

Having heard from the police officers who were first on the scene what direction the possible getaway car sped off in, Ellison and Edwards ran back to the P.D. to give chase. Naturally, they called out the rest of the Clan for, when you are in a dismembering mood, it helps to have as many Clan members at your side as you can find.

An APB was put out on the car's general description, with orders to approach with caution, while the Cascade Clan piled into whatever vehicles they had (or could acquire) in order to spread out around the city. Sentinel eyesight was considered an advantage when one of the Guides being hunted had distinctive curly hair.

~'~

Blair cast a glance at the "You Are Now Leaving Cascade" sign and glanced back to meet Larry's gaze in the rear view mirror. He could feel Larry's reluctance to do what he knew had to be done, and hoped it would be enough to stop him.

Taking a breath he commented, in as casual a tone as he could, "Did I mention that David and I are bonded Guides?"

The car screeched to a halt as Larry slammed the brakes on and Blair's head bounced off the back of the driver's headrest. There was silence for a few seconds, then Blair continued, "David's Sentinel is Sentinel Prime Edwards, while my Sentinel, Jim Ellison, is the Senior Sentinel Prime of Cascade."

Larry and Curly suddenly looked rather green around the gills, while Benny looked confused. After a few seconds, his face cleared and he declared, as if solving a puzzle, "That's the head of the Clan!"

"That's right!" Blair said, smiling at him. Maybe this would work after all.

Larry's face turned a shade greener, then two doors opened and slammed shut as Larry and Curly hurled themselves out of the car.

Blair opened his own door and leaned out of the car to get a better view, not quite believing what he was seeing as the two figures fled up the road.

"What are they doing?" David asked.

"I think they're running away."

"Oh."

Blair looked at David, who looked back at him.

"You'd think they'd realise they'd get farther in the car," David pointed out.

Benny turned around. "Aren't we going to Canada now?"

Blair smiled and patted his arm. "It's okay, Benny, I'm sure you'll be going to Canada soon. Oh, look, they're coming back now." Pushing his own door fully open, he got out as quickly as he could with his hands still tied, and reached back in to help David.

"Out, out!" Larry screamed.

Blair found himself pushed to one side as Larry yanked at David. Suddenly, Larry reared back, horror on his face as he hastily started rubbing his hands on his jacket. "I touched him, I touched him - they'll know!" he screeched.

David hurriedly scrambled out of the car as Blair began to try to calm Larry down. "It's okay, Larry. Just - just take a deep breath."

Larry inhaled quickly, and exhaled just as quickly. Then took another breath that verged on hyperventilation as Curly dived into the car and slammed the door behind him. Obviously deciding that leaving now was a good idea, Larry yanked open the driver's door, then swung back to wave a finger in Blair's face. "We didn't hurt you! We didn't lay a hand on you!" Glaring at his finger as that digit waved far too close to Blair's nose, he yanked his hand back suddenly. "Just remember that!" he shouted, before diving into the driver's seat and slamming the door.

The vehicle screeched away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

Blair shut his mouth as the dust swirled up, then opened it again. "I think they've heard of Jim and Neds."

Beside him, David nodded, a stunned look still on his face. "I-I think so too."

Blair glanced down at his hands and offered them to David. "Untie me and I'll untie you."

~'~

Edwards glanced at Ellison's hands as they gripped the steering wheel. The knuckles were white and straining. Turning his eyes back to the road, he forced his hearing out to its farthest limit, hoping to hear the one heartbeat he knew best of all. When he got hold of David he was going to, going to...make damned sure he never went near another bank in his life. And make damned sure he never went anywhere with the Senior Guide Prime without him and a gang of Sentinels along as protection!

He glanced at those straining knuckles again. He was positive Ellison was thinking along the same lines.

With his hearing stretched out to the maximum, the phone ringing was like the trumpet of Jericho, and he recoiled sharply with his hands clamped over his ears. Mentally yanking at the sound dial, he almost missed the relief in Ellison's voice but the name got his attention quickly.

"Chief?! Where the hell are you?"

Instantly, Edwards zeroed in on the other end of the line. There, thumping merrily away with nary a skipped beat, was David's heartbeat. He was so focussed on that sound that he completely missed whatever Blair was saying. It wasn't until the call ended and David's heartbeat disappeared that he realised he was still sitting in the truck with Ellison.

"They're fine, the bank robbers let them go. They're on Interstate 5, at a diner just outside Cascade." Ellison had obviously realised that Edwards hadn't heard much, if anything, of Blair's conversation.

"Thank God for that!"

Leaving Ellison to stamp his foot down on the accelerator, which he did, Edwards reached for the radio and informed the rest of the Clan where the Senior Guide Prime and Guide Prime were to be found. He didn't care who reached them first as long as they were protected sooner rather than later.

~'~

Putting the phone down, Blair stepped out of the phone booth and looked at David. "They're on their way."

"Was Neds there?"

"Yeah, he's in Jim's truck, with Jim. Jim's driving."

David's eyes widened as that piece of information sank in. "Oh, God."

"Well, look on the bright side; it won't take them that long to get here." Blair was just hoping their Sentinels would arrive in one piece. "Look, let's go get some coffee while we wait. You and I both know it'll be days before we're let out again."

He got a laugh that was halfway to a sob. "At the moment, Neds in Blessed Protector mode sounds great to me. Even if I won't get to step outside for a week."

"A week?" Blair led the way to the diner. "We'll be lucky if we get to go anywhere within a month."

Just as he reached the door, David's hand grabbed his arm. "Look!"

Blair turned.

And saw a whole convoy of vehicles, including quite a few police cars, heading their way. Naturally, Jim's truck was at the head of it and, from the looks of things, he was definitely breaking the speed limit.

"Do you have the urge to run away?" David asked, very, very quietly.

"Oh yeah. Screaming all the way."

The truck screeched to a halt and Jim and Neds leapt out, heading towards the two Guides at a run.

Blair smiled, projecting calming thoughts at his rapidly approaching Sentinel. "Hey, Jim. You'll never guess wha -" He was yanked into a tight hold, and checked over firmly. "What happened to us today," he finished, faintly.

His Sentinel growled in return, obviously smelling three strange scents on him and identifying them correctly as the kidnappers. With the rest of the Clan surrounding them, Blair was turned on the spot as Jim stripped off his jacket and flannel shirt and threw them to one side. His protests were ignored as the Sentinel removed his own jacket and wrapped it carefully around him. Glancing over, Blair saw that David had suffered a similar fate as Edwards hurled David's jacket away from them.

The discarded jackets and shirt were grabbed by other Sentinels who sniffed them over carefully, growling as they did so, before passing them on to other Sentinels.

Glancing up at his own Sentinel, Blair watched the dancing muscle in his jaw before dragging his attention back to what Jim was saying.

"Did they say where they were headed?"

Blair's eyes met David's for a brief appalled moment. While he knew that Larry, Curly and Benny were bank robbers who could have hurt any amount of people during that stupid bank robbery of theirs, Blair was extremely reluctant to hand them over to the Clan. Not just because of his previous experience of Clan justice but also because Larry hadn't wanted to hurt them. Maybe if he calmed Jim down before telling him where they were going, he'd agree to simply hand them over to the Cascade cops to be dealt with? But David, it seemed, had no compunction about leaving them to their fate, as he happily replied, "Canada," before tucking his head under Edwards' chin and accepting the bear hug being bestowed upon him.

"David!"

Jim's arms tightened around him in response. "Leave it, Sandburg," he ordered, as several Sentinels and Guides disappeared back into their vehicles and roared off down the interstate. "The Clan will bring them in for justice."

"Jim, they didn't hurt us - they let us go!"

"Only because you told them we're bonded Guides," David chipped in, far too cheerfully for Blair's liking.

"You know what, David? You're not helping!"

A wide smile cracked Edwards' face as he beamed at a suddenly confused Blair. "No, he's not, is he? Senior Sentinel Prime, I'm taking my Guide home."

"Good idea, Edwards."

"Blair? Nice job."

Blair frowned even more as Edwards and David moved away and got into Dr. Harvey's car.

"Nice job? What on earth is he talking about, man?"

"You, Chief. You kept your head, and you got yourself and David out of there without either of you being injured. Now let's go home."

"But -"

"No buts, Sandburg. Let's go."

~'~

Pushing his Guide to the truck, the Sentinel helped him in, then made sure that his seatbelt was securely in place. Sandburg was silent but Jim knew it was only a matter of time before he started arguing on behalf of the bank robbers again. As he moved around the front of the truck, he shook his head. For all that Sandburg couldn't, or wouldn't, accept the Clan's way of doing things, the Sentinel was still glad that they'd met. This was his Guide, no one else's, stubborn streak of independence and all.

Once he was in the truck and the door was shut, Sandburg turned in his seat to face him. "Jim."

He knew it. Jim sighed and leaned his head against the headrest before looking over at him. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"They didn't hurt us."

Jim rolled his eyes. Sandburg had got his attention by using the most important thing to a Sentinel; his Guide would have made a great lawyer.

"As soon as I told them that David and I are bonded Guides, they couldn't wait to get out of the car and get away from us."

Jim frowned. "They left the car?"

"Yeah, it was kinda weird, actually." Blair half-laughed and shook his head. "I told them what we are, and who you guys are, and, man, they leapt out of the car and ran away! Talk about faster than a speeding bullet!" His laughter grew louder as he continued, "Then it hit them that they needed the car, and they came running back."

As reassuring, and entertaining, as it was to have his Guide talking and laughing at his side, the Sentinel stuck to the facts. "And then they left you on the side of the road where anything could have happened to you."

The laughter stopped and Sandburg met his eyes, an apology in the blue gaze. "I know, Jim, but -"

"No buts, Sandburg. I'm the Senior Sentinel Prime of the Cascade Clan. They kidnapped my Guide, and the Guide of the Sentinel Prime. When they're caught, and they will be caught, they'll be brought back to face justice."

"But they didn't hurt us!"

"I know that. They'll face justice, not vengeance."

Sandburg sighed and slumped back in his seat, turning his head to gaze out of the window for a moment. Finally, he looked back at Jim. "I haven't made any difference at all, have I?"

"I wouldn't say that, Sandburg." Jim smiled. He'd noticed a few differences himself in the way Guides were treated. Small differences, admittedly, but then the Guides were up against the ingrained instincts of pre-civilised Sentinels.

"You do realise I have to keep on trying, don't you, Jim?"

Jim's smile got wider. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Chief."

~'~

David sighed with relief as the front door was firmly shut and locked behind them. Slipping his Sentinel's jacket off, he hung it up on the coat rack, then buried his face in it, inhaling the comforting scent that still clung to it. He was, without a doubt, overwhelmingly glad to be home. Turning, he smiled as he watched his Sentinel stalk the perimeter. Neds was going to be extremely territorial over everything for the next few days - and that included his Guide.

His smile widened and he felt himself blush as Neds turned and stalked towards him, growling softly as he approached. Oh yeah, Neds was definitely going to be territorial for a while.

~'~

The door was shut and locked behind them, and Blair took off Jim's jacket and slipped it onto a coat peg, resisting the urge to bury his face in it as he did so. Resolutely, he turned away from the jacket and the comforting smell of his Sentinel that lingered around it. He was home, and he didn't need to hold onto any kind of security blanket at all.

He smiled and shook his head as he watched Jim check that the loft was secure. Sentinels, God love 'em, you could make a fortune betting on their reactions sometimes.

"Jim?"

The Sentinel paused for a moment to stare at him, then continued his prowling.

Blair's eyes narrowed as he considered his options; maybe feeding his Sentinel would help calm him down, although he knew that bonding was really the only thing that would work. Shrugging, he decided that food might help and took two steps towards the kitchen, then stopped as his Sentinel's gaze focussed on him with the intensity of a laser beam. It looked like he was out of time.

The Sentinel paced towards him and the Guide smiled and tilted his head back, exposing his neck, and showing his complete trust in his Sentinel. He was rewarded by being pulled into a bear hug, and having his Sentinel's face buried in his neck, as he was scented enthusiastically.

As he was half-tugged, half-carried towards the couch, the Guide dropped his barriers and rested his head on his Sentinel's shoulder. He might not have won equality yet, and it was only yet, but what he had really wasn't too bad at all. As his emotions filtered through the bond, he felt his Sentinel's answering emotions and grinned. Oh yeah, he knew it was only a matter of time.

~finis~

23rd April 2005.

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[nerthus.livejournal.com]

Finished this one, too! What is it about the whole Clan/Prime thing that is so alluring, I wonder?! I mean, in reality if I was a Guide I think in some respects it might be nice to be so protected and cared for and to have such an indescribable bond with the Sentinel; but on the other hand, it would also be very stifling in a way and it would feel like being in some controlling relationship where you couldn't just do what you please but have this over-protective, possessive Sentinel dictating where you can go, etc. I guess you'd have to hope the trade-off would be worth it. But since it's all make believe, ha, I confess that I'm a sucker for these fics and do get some kind of indescribable satisfaction from the Sentinel/Guide bonding. It's very hot in a visceral, primitive sort of way, and the fact that these are basically civilized people who have this genetic component underlying that social civility is tantalizing to explore and rife with intriguing possibilities as far as great stories go.

[dimity-blue.livejournal.com]

Oh God, yeah. No *way* would I want to be a Guide and put up with a Sentinel telling me what I could do etc. I do love playing around with the universe (or did love - it's been a while since I wrote in it), as Blair would hate it too. So Blair hating it and being determined to change the status quo is what I love. Poor Jim. :oD