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The Seed           
by Kikkimax

Simon slipped his key into the lock and gently pushed the door open. He looked around in the eerie half light of the pre-dawn. There was a package of lunch meat and an open jar of mayonnaise in the floor by the refrigerator but there was no one in the kitchen. Very quietly he closed the door behind him. The living room was also empty. The French doors to Blair's room stood open and still. No one there.

"Blair...." he stage-whispered as he wandered down the hall knowing Ellison would have already heard his almost silent entry in spite of his efforts to be quiet. Sandburg's cryptic phone call half an hour earlier had quite frankly scared the hell out of him. His voice had been a hushed, frightened tone. 'I don't know what else to do. He's really lost it, man.'

"Blair...." he called out again louder this time as he pushed open the bathroom door, finding it trashed but empty as well. The floor was wet and the shower curtain was torn from the pole.

That left one place to look. Cautiously he backtracked to the livingroom and stood in the dark for a minute to clear his head before started up the staircase. He almost drew his gun, thinking of Sandburg's near frantic warning. Except this berserk Sentinel happened to be his damned good friend. He really didn't think he could shoot Jim Ellison.

There was more light at the top of the stairs where the sun was beginning to stream through the skylight. Simon stood open mouthed and stared into the wide-with-fear blue eyes of Blair Sandburg, and into the barrel of Ellison's gun. Jim lay propped up on his left side with Sandburg's back drawn tight against his chest. He rested his right arm across an obviously unhappy Blair, but bent it at the elbow to point the gun directly at Simon.

"Whoa, easy there, big guy. Simon's with us. Remember? He's on our side. Right, Simon?" Blair soothed in a calm voice that belied the shaking hands that came out from under the yellow comforter to pull gently at the gun hand. Simon's eyes widened even more with the realization that Blair's hands were cuffed together.

"It's okay, Jim. I'm here to help," Simon offered quietly.

Jim lowered the gun as he slid off his elbow and laid back down on his side. He slipped his left arm further under Blair and pulled him closer, wrapping both arms around his chest. He eyed Simon warily.

Blair closed his eyes and sighed in relief when Jim dropped the gun on the bed next to the cell phone. "God, Simon," he breathed. He opened his eyes and met Simon's disbelieving stare. "It's not what it looks like," he denied softly, a blush climbing his cheeks.

Jim said nothing, he only watched with concern as he held Blair tightly.

 "What the hell is it?" Simon asked guiltily. Friday afternoon Blair had come to him concerned with Jim's unusual behavior, but Simon had brushed him off. 'Handle it, Sandburg. That's what we keep you around for.'  

"I think it has something to do with the murders on campus," Blair explained. "Jim's got this crazy idea I'm gonna be the next victim. It's like he's gone into some type of hyper-protective zone-out."

"Can he hear us?" Simon asked as he moved his hand back and forth in front of the bed. Jim's bloodshot eyes tracked the movement but remained unfocused.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he can. I think he's tuning us out on purpose. Maybe he's listening for something else. Every now and then I can get through to him. You know, to get a drink or pee or...."

"Exactly how long has this been going on?" Simon broke in.

Blair sighed deeply. "Almost two days," he answered simply. "I'm really sorry, Simon, I tried to handle it on my own. It's just getting to a critical stage and I didn't know what else...."

"Sandburg, for God's sake, I didn't realize..." Simon practically shouted, which brought Jim back up to his elbow. 

Blair pushed the gun frantically toward Simon before Jim could grab it again. Simon caught the weapon by the handle and stuck it in his coat pocket as he stepped back out of reach. Jim swung his feet down to the floor and brought Blair up with him. He looked around but seemed confused as to what to do next.

"Simon, don't shout, man," Blair breathed through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, no shit," Simon agreed as he tried to catch his breath. He was surprised how relieved he felt to see both Blair and Jim fully dressed. Although for some reason Blair had on only one sock and one shoe with the other foot bare.

"Wait, I've got an idea," Blair said suddenly as his tired face brightened. "Simon, why don't you go downstairs and make some coffee or something?"

Simon thought how if this had been a cartoon there might have been a light bulb over Sandburg's head. He almost laughed at the thought. "Are you sure it's okay to leave you alone with him, I mean the way he is?"

Blair smiled weakly. "We've been like this for hours and hours, man. He's not going to hurt me. Sure, starve me to death, but never hurt me. Go on. I need to try to talk to him. I'll call you back up if it doesn't work. Just keep your eyes open down there," he added with some trepidation.

Simon nodded and headed slowly down the stairs.

"Hey, Jim." Blair turned his upper body as much as he could in the vice-like grip to try to see the larger man's face. "Come on, buddy, you in there? Talk to me, man."

Jim loosened his grip and rubbed his hands up and down Blair's upper arms. Blair turned a little more and grasped Jim's shirt with both hands. 

"Okay, that's a start," he began, "You did a great job watching over me this weekend all by yourself. But you know what? Reinforcements are here, man! That's good, right? Simon's here to pull a shift. Okay?" Blair continued without a breath, "I know you trust Simon to watch our backs so we'll go downstairs, drink some coffee, get something to eat, take a shower...."

"NO!" Blair jumped at the unexpected loudness, of Jim's voice. "No shower, Chief! No showers."

"Okay, okay, calm down. No showers, absolutely no showers! Whatever you say, Jim. But coffee's okay, right? Just Coffee?" Blair urged.

Jim nodded and stood, waiting for Blair as he put his errant sock and shoe back on. Slowly they made their way down the stairs. Jim kept at least one hand on Blair all the way. Simon looked up as they walked to the table meeting Blair's gaze. Blair pulled out a chair and sat down but Jim stood behind him and placed one hand on each shoulder protectively. He then turned a steady eye around the room which came finally to rest on Simon as well.

"Coffee smells great, huh Jim?" Blair began conversationally as he placed his still cuffed hands on the table in front of him.

Simon brought over two cups of coffee and placed them both in front of Blair. He dug into his pocket and came out with his keys. "So, Jim," he said casually as he located the hand cuff key, "I see you finally found a way to keep Sandburg in line."

"Funny, man, real funny. Pick on the little guy." Blair glanced over his shoulder and kept an eye on Jim's set in stone expression as Simon undid the cuffs. "Auurrghgh," he grimaced as his hands were freed and he began to rub his sore, red wrists.

Jim's expression softened and he placed one hand just for a moment on Blair's cheek. "Sorry," he whispered.

Blair and Simon glanced at each other quickly then Simon moved away. "I'll get us some breakfast," he said gruffly, not wanting Blair to see how much Jim's tenderness had affected him.

"It's all right." Blair smiled and leaned his head back against his overzealous protector, relishing the return of his friend. "Take a load off, man," he said at last and pulled out the chair next to him, tugging on Jim's arm until he lowered himself heavily into the seat. Blair pushed one of the now cooling mugs toward his friend and raised the other to his lips. "Mmmmm," he purred as he swallowed the first of several mouthfuls.

Jim sat and stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. Once again unemotional and unblinking. Not caring much for the scrutiny Blair picked up the other cup and held it up to Jim's lips. "Here, Jim, you gotta try some of this. Nectar of the gods, baby," he crooned.

Jim's lips parted and as the warm liquid slid between them he reached up and covered Blair's hand with both of his own shaky hands and drank deeply.

"That was some zone-out, man. Should have know it would take coffee to bring you out of it," Blair teased.

Jim drained the cup and sat it down but didn't relinquish Blair's hand right away. He seemed reluctant to loose the contact. "I wasn't zoned," he said seriously. "I was listening for her."

"What?" "Who?" Blair and Simon exclaimed simultaneously.

"You don't remember at all , do you?" Jim asked Blair almost pleadingly.

Previous Friday morning
Rainer University

"Okay, we've got three male college students with their throats slashed. Roughly one a month for the last three months. All three were found on or very near campus. According to the coroner all three had intercourse just prior to death. No physical similarities, no other connections between the three." Jim laid out the case again mostly to himself, but Detective Brown nodded and followed along as they led the way down the busy sidewalk. There had been few leads and no evidence to speak of and it was nearing mid-month when Jim was sure they would end up with another homicide.

They had taken a walking tour of the murder sites hoping to jump start the case that had landed in Major Crimes only two weeks ago. Detective Rafe and Blair Sandburg walked a little ways behind them, deep in their own conversation which was interrupted intermittently by female voices calling out to the popular TA.

Jim and Brown stopped to wait for them to catch up when Jim picked up another conversation from across the open courtyard. "There's Mr. Sandburg! He is so hot."

Ellison chuckled and eyed his partner up and down. "I just don't see it," he sighed with mock disgust and turned back to Brown.

"What? What did I do?" Sandburg asked suspiciously.

"The Barbie doll thinks you're hot." Jim thumbed toward the two women now walking away.

"Really? She said hot? Oh, man!" Blair smiled his million watt smile just as one of the women looked back at him. He waved at her and she giggled and began to blush.

"Do you have to encourage him?" Rafe frowned.

"Those famous Ellison ears again," Brown complained. "I didn't hear anything."

"Hey, if Jim says he heard it, he heard it," Rafe said. "Besides, I'm beginning to feel invisible walking with this guy."

Jim smiled and tried to ruffle Blair's hair. The younger man dodged easily, never taking his eyes off the co-eds. "You'll get used to it, Rafe, it just takes awhile," Jim advised.

"Yeah, well I'm walking up front for awhile," Rafe announced as he pushed through Brown and Ellison and continued down the path.

"That's it, Rafe, if you can't take the heat, man...." Blair called out after him with a laugh.

"Come on, Romeo. Let's go." Jim and Brown both chuckled as they headed after the surly younger detective. Blair glanced once more at the retreating girls then trotted a few steps to catch up and fell into step directly behind his partner.

Miranda prepared herself to prowl the campus, checking her makeup in the rearview mirror. Not that she needed to, she was gorgeous as always. It was nearing time and she had to make a selection. This was the last one she promised herself, then she would rest. She would move on and live the good life for as long as she could before the need to hunt struck her again. Of all of her haunts; night clubs, military bases, sporting arenas, any place where young men gathered, colleges and universities were her favorites. They were convenient. They offered variety and easy access.

"Young, dumb, and full of cum," she sang to herself as she stepped out of the car.

Moving like a cat in her skin tight leather pants, her smooth stomach peaked from under her sleeveless, cropped shirt. Hers was a dark beauty, paid for with the blood and seed of many young lives. Always given freely, more or less, she told herself. She flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder and headed toward the campus proper. Eyes fell on her from every direction as she passed.

Up ahead she spotted a group of men moving towards her. The young dark headed man in the front was pleasant to look at. He met her eyes and smiled. Very nice, she thought. Young enough, but too confident, too mature. In her old age...what? 235 or 236? she didn't even want to think about that...she had grown lazy. She only took the easy ones now. Any sort of a fight took the energy right out of her. And that made her age.

A tall man with striking blue eyes and a handsome black man also smiled at her appreciatively. Both way too old. Not worth the effort. Maybe sometime when she was not on the hunt or not looking for something much older with much more money. She passed them with hardly a look. She almost missed him, hidden in the larger man's shadow. He followed the others, obviously part of the group, but somehow different. He was also younger and smaller in stature. He was remarkable. His very soul shined in his expressive blue eyes. So innocent, so naïve, so full of precious energy he practically bounced. She stopped and stared open mouthed. 

Rafe nearly stumbled when he saw the girl approaching. She was magnificent. That was the only word that came to mind. A little young maybe, but he smiled and met her eyes anyway. 'I saw her first, Sandburg,' he thought evilly. 

She made eye contact with him briefly, then looked at Jim and Henry but continued on her way. She never broke her stride-- until she saw Blair. She turned as she passed him stopping to stare. Sandburg turned as well, as if caught in her gaze. Undisguised lust crossed her features, which was not lost on the Major Crime detectives or the suddenly shy anthropologist.  

Blair took an involuntary step backwards bumping into the brick wall that was his partner. The brick wall in question gave him a not so gentle push back toward the predator, mostly just to watch him squirm.

"Hello," she purred seductively offering her hand. "My name is Miranda."

"Yeah, hi, I'm Blair," he said as he tentatively took her hand. He glared back at the men behind him, who suddenly transformed into leering school boys. As he tried to pull his hand away he felt a sharp stab of pain shoot up his arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed and jerked his arm away. 

Ellison placed his hand on Blair's shoulder to see what the problem was and felt the surge as well.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I've cut you with my ring," Miranda cried out rather unconvincingly. She reached once again for his hand and turned it over to examine it. 

Blair was startled to see a bright red bead of blood forming in the cup of his hand.  "It's all right," he managed to say as she pulled his hand up to her mouth and kissed the blood away from his palm, licking her lips afterward.

"We have to go, Chief," Ellison growled, never taking his eyes off the woman as he pulled his strangely confused partner away. He felt the sudden need to put some space between the two.

"I'll be seeing you soon," Miranda whispered softly.

"Not if I can help it, lady," Jim returned just as low, treating the woman to the famous Ellison glare before collecting an unresisting Blair and heading to the truck.

Brown and Rafe exchanged startled glances then followed their cohorts back to the parking lot. Jim was physically putting Blair into the passenger side of the beat up blue and white pickup when they caught up. Blair leaned forward to rest his head on his arms which were folded across the dashboard.

"Hey, Jim, what the hell was that all about?" Brown asked. "Blair, you okay?"

"I think she did something to him," Jim offered. "Drugged him maybe. We may have found our murderer."

"Why do you say that?" Brown questioned, looking back in the direction the woman had gone.

Jim grimaced and shrugged unable to explain the sense of dread he'd felt the moment the woman had touched his partner. "Just a hunch. At any rate, I'd like to ask her a few questions. Let's go find her. Rafe, keep an eye on Sandburg." Jim trotted off down the walkway followed by a disbelieving Brown. "Don't leave him!" Jim shouted back over his shoulder to Rafe.

Rafe nodded and placed a hand on Blair's back.

"Hey, man, get her phone number," Blair mumbled into his arms without raising his head.

"Now I know you're okay," Rafe laughed. "You are a piece of work, Sandburg. So much for the theory."

"What theory?" Blair asked absently as he sat up and examined his supposedly injured hand but found no blood, not even a mark of any kind. He shivered involuntarily as he wiped his hand on his jeans and thought of her cool lips on his skin.

Rafe turned and leaned against the side of the truck. "Nothing," he muttered.

"What theory?" Blair persisted as he dug around in his backpack and came out with a bottle of water. He turned questioning eyes on Rafe, who paled visibly. "Come on, man, give. What theory?" He took a long drink of water and offered the bottle to Rafe.

Rafe shook his head and held up his hand signifying no. Whether it was to decline the water or the question Blair wasn't quite sure. "Oh, no. I've got a big mouth. Ellison would kill me."

"Is it about me?" Blair asked. "There's a theory about me? Cool."

"Not cool," Rafe said as he turned away.

Blair slid out of the truck and dropped the bottle back on the seat. "If it's about me Jim has no right to keep it from me," he said firmly as he pulled the detective back around to face him.

"Look, Blair, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I think I was a little jealous."

"Of what?" Blair asked incredulously.

"Duh," Rafe blinked at him. "You really do get more than your share of female attention, you know."

Sandburg burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Oh, man, don't you get it?" Rafe stared back blankly. "Look around, man. Where are we? I'm a teaching fellow. You know, forbidden fruit?"

Rafe grinned sheepishly. He knew Sandburg was full of it, but it was hard to stay mad at him. 

"Of course, I AM irresistible, too." Blair added waggling his eye brows seductively.

Rafe sobered slightly and glanced toward the campus. "That girl, Miranda, there was something strange about that whole thing."

"Yeah, there was." Blair nodded in agreement and rubbed at his shoulder, still a little bewitched by her. After several seconds of silence Blair changed the subject. "What theory?"

"Damn, but you ARE persistent."

"I know. That's also part of my charm. Now give." Blair turned his rapt attention on Rafe.

Rafe sighed as his resolve crumbled under the force of Sandburg's persistence. "Some people have this idea you and Ellison might be more than partners."

Blair narrowed his eyes suspiciously, his mind jumping to the mystic bond he and Jim had shared for some time.  "I don't follow," he said at last, fishing for more information.

"You know, a couple," Rafe offered weakly.

"A couple of what?" Blair asked naively before he caught on. "Oh! A couple. Uh, that would be no," he chuckled. "Oh, man. That's rich."

Rafe managed a smile himself, relieved Sandburg wasn't mortified. "I know. You're a babe magnet, and I don't think it has anything to do with teaching. It was nice of you to try to make me feel better, though."

Blair leaned back against the seat with a smirk. "So who thinks that?" he asked.

"No one who matters. Some cops just don't understand why big, bad Jim Ellison has a soft spot for you." Rafe looked at the ground and added, "You guys make a great team."

"Thanks, man." Blair straightened up in time to see Brown and Jim headed back to the lot. Empty handed.

"Uh, Jim...." Blair began tentatively, feeling his partner out.

"Yeah, Chief, you okay?" Jim eyed him quickly as he made a sharp left hand turn. Blair clenched the seat and closed his eyes. "You gonna be sick?" Jim asked.

"No, man, I'm fine," Blair assured, slowly opening his eyes and easing his death grip as Jim turned his attention back to the road. "Did you know there was a theory at the station? About us, I mean," he blurted out.

Jim pulled the truck over to the side of the road and slammed it into park. "Rafe," he swore into the steering wheel. "Look, Chief...."

"You knew. Everybody thinks we're doin' it and you didn't bother to tell me," Blair accused.

"Not everybody," Jim corrected. "A few overly imaginative people have spread a rumor. That's all."

"And just how long has this rumor been floating around?" Blair asked quietly.

Jim sighed and rubbed a hand across his face before he spoke. "It's been around in one form or another for as long as you've been around me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't think it mattered."

Blair nodded. "You know cops have a bad rap for being homophobic. Jim I don't want to hurt your career."

"Nothing to worry about, Chief," Jim said clasping a hand to the back of Blair's neck. As he did he felt the tiny surge of current running up Blair's arm. "What did she do to you?" he asked urgently.

"What?"

Jim caught Blair's wrist and brought his hand up to examine it again. Even with Sentinel vision he could detect no sign of a puncture wound or cut, but the blood had been there. He had seen it and so had Miranda and Blair. He felt with sensitive fingers along the palm and then followed the current up the arm and shoulder into Blair's chest.

"Do you feel that?" Jim asked, resting his hand over Blair's heart. "It's like a current of electricity. Very faint now."

"I don't really feel anything now," Blair answered thoughtfully. "I mean I did at first. When she touched me it felt like a jolt or a mild shock," he admitted. He looked at his friend and read the worried face accurately. "No way, Jim. No hospital. No doctor. I'm fine. Let's just get back to the station."

Jim nodded absently as he slipped the truck into gear and merged back into traffic. Mentally he made a list of new questions for the coroner. He had to stop the killer. Now he was dead sure his guide had been targeted as the next victim.

Blair sat at Jim's desk and mopped up some of the overflow of paperwork. He had implicit instructions not to move from the desk while Jim went down to the coroner's office. Even though the last victim had already been released and buried for at least three weeks, Jim felt he might be able to find something in the coroner's report or the autopsy photos. He didn't tell Blair he was looking for small wounds on the hands or evidence of electric burns. Jim was in rare over-protective form this afternoon. He was cold, hard, and extremely 'Ellisonish'. Blair thought maybe it had something to do with Miranda or maybe just the revelation about 'the theory'. Whatever it was it was getting old.

"Here you go, Mr. Sandburg. More of the same." Blair quickly flipped through the little black book in his head and came up with the name Tina Wallace to go with the face of the pretty uniformed officer that handed him a stack of files.

He treated her to the patented Sandburg smile and said "Thanks, Tina."

She drew in a sharp breath and returned a smile of her own. "What a waste!" she moaned as she turned and headed out the door.

Blair's smile faded. He hadn't considered that particular aspect of the rumor. This was more serious than he first thought.

"No, man, I swear. She blew by us like we weren't even there. Even Rafe with his GQ, pretty-boy looks. But when she caught sight of Hairboy...." Brown grinned as he regaled Simon and Joel with the events of the morning. "Uh oh, dead man walking," he declared as Rafe entered the break room.

"Not funny, H." Rafe poured himself a cup of coffee and settled nervously in a chair. "You don't think Sandburg told him, do you?"

"Sandburg keep his mouth shut? I'm already planning your funeral," Brown stated with a huge grin.

"What'd you do?" Joel inquired.

"I don't want to know." Simon beat a hasty retreat for the door.

"He clued Sandburg in on the little 'are they or aren't they' debate." Brown supplied.

"Ellison IS going to kill you," Joel nodded. "He didn't want the kid to hear about that."

"I know. Sandburg pried it out of me. You know how he is when he wants something," Rafe said miserably.

"Here comes Ellison," Brown said under his breath.

"Not funny, H.," Rafe warned just before a large hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Rafe, can I see you in the hall." It didn't sound like a request.

Rafe set down the coffee, untouched, and led the way to the end of the hall. He stopped and looked at Jim apologetically. "I'm really sorry, Jim. I shouldn't have told him."

"What?" Jim asked with a confused look. "Oh, yeah that. Listen, don't worry about it. He took the whole thing in stride. Just a big joke to him." Jim grunted and shook his head. "No, I, uh, wanted to ask you about the girl. You know...." he motioned in the air like an hour glass.

"Yeah, I know," Rafe nodded with a soft sigh.

"I just wondered if you got some weird vibe off her. God, I sound just like Sandburg. You know what I mean though, right? I know I felt something. Blair sure as hell did."

Rafe nodded again more emphatically, "Yeah, it was almost like she cast some sort of spell or something."

Jim put his hand on the wall next to Rafe's head, he smiled in relief that Rafe hadn't laughed in his face. Brown would have, which is why he hadn't gone to him in the first place. They stood there a moment in silent contemplation.

Officer Wallace passed them and sighed, "Oh, no. Not that one, too."

Jim cut his eyes at her and Rafe frowned. To quote Sandburg, gossip really "sucked" when you were on the receiving end of it.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. Ellison remained in a bad mood and kept Blair within arms reach at all times. The tension grew thicker as Jim became more watchful and solicitous, to the point that anyone approaching Sandburg was glared away.

"Where are you going?" Jim snapped as Blair stood from his chair to stretch.

Blair pursed his lips and frowned slightly. He'd seen Jim's over-the-top attitude escalate all afternoon, but enough was enough. "To Simon's office, if that's okay," he managed, keeping his displeasure out of his tone.

"Why?"

"Because we really need to put some air between us for a few minutes before I snap." The calmness of Blair's voice didn't quite reach his wild eyes. "Come on, Jim, I'll never leave your line of sight."

Without waiting for an answer Blair strode the ten feet to Simon's office and knocked, opening the door at the same time. "Can I see you for a minute, uh, sir?"

"Sure, Sandburg, have a seat." Simon motioned to the usual chair and glanced out in the bullpen. Jim sat staring Sandburg through the glass. "Listen, about the office gossip..."

Blair waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, Simon. If it doesn't bother Jim, it doesn't bother me."

"Oh.  Well, okay then," Simon mumbled, somewhat relieved. "So what's the problem?"

"I'm not really sure. Something's up with Jim ever since we got back from Rainier. The way he's acting it's no wonder people think I'm his bitch. He's ready to blow a gasket."

"Hold on a minute, you're the resident expert on Ellison. Handle it, Sandburg. That's what we keep you around for. Now get out of my office." Simon rose and headed for the coffee pot so Blair wouldn't see the grin on his face. "His bitch...." he laughed to himself, stopping to look over his shoulder as he heard his door close with a snap.

Upset about his concerns being blown off by Simon, Blair crossed the bullpen mad as hell. He stopped just short of Jim's desk with his hands on his hips and glared at Jim. "You heard?" he asked, spoiling for a fight.

Jim looked up and honest anger radiated from him. "No I didn't listen to your conversation. Contrary to popular belief, I do give you some privacy."

Blair looked at his shoelace momentarily, calming down and somewhat ashamed of his accusation. "Yeah, some" he teased ruefully when he looked back up, "but you've kept me chained to your desk all day."

"Fine!" Ellison roared, taking the bait. He jumped out of his chair, knocking papers to the floor. The bullpen fell silent and all eyes were on the two men as they squared off. Jim lowered his voice and pointed a finger at the object of his consternation. "Go home," he ordered.

The silence was deafening. "It's alright, everyone," Blair announced loudly, after a shocked few seconds. "Nothing to be concerned about, just a lover's quarrel." 

Laughter echoed through the bullpen. Blair looked around with smirk on his face. He took note of the people who didn't laugh, including Jim. Blair smiled gleefully across the desk at him, causing Brown to guffaw even louder.

Just as Jim rounded the desk to collar his unrepentant partner, Simon burst out of his office. "Jim, we've got another body on campus."

"Let's go!" Blair shouted as he went for his jacket. Jim grabbed his arm and once again felt the disturbing surge of power.

"Not this time, Chief," Jim said. Before Blair could protest, he spoke fervently in a low voice. "I've got a bad feeling, Blair. Go home, please. Just this once don't argue." His eyes pleaded silently with his stubborn partner.

"Okay, man. I'll go home. I promise." Blair stood back as Jim, Simon, Rafe and Brown thundered past him. Rafe caught his eye on the way out and Brown thumped him on the head affectionately.

As the elevator doors closed Jim called out "Do not under any circumstances go back to the university." The doors closed completely and Blair still heard his partner shouting "Go straight home!"

"I said I promise, geez, Mom," Blair muttered under his breath, knowing the Sentinel would hear him. He pulled on his jacket and stopped to pick up the files Jim had knocked off the desk, then gathered his backpack and went home. Straight home.

Miranda paced her plush hotel room. She had already made her choice and marked him. While she still had three days to make the kill, something about this one pulled at her. The taste of his blood had tingled her lips. His energy, his vibrancy called to her. He was beautiful as well with his startling blue eyes and full lips, curly brown hair and radiant smile. She might actually take her time and enjoy this one. Her anticipation battled with her patience and finally won. She knelt before her makeshift alter and prepared the sacrificial blade.

Blair stood and stared into the refrigerator glumly. He was not pouting, he told himself. Not at all. He grabbed a couple of onions and the butter then slammed the door shut. When the phone rang he grabbed it on the first ring. "Hello."

"Chief, you're home." Relief was evident in the tired voice.

"Like I had a choice," Blair huffed sarcastically.

"Like you ever listen," Jim shot back.  "Anyway, this was just a dead end. Looks like an overdose. I'll, uh, pick up something for dinner on the way home," he added in consolation.

"That's okay, Jim. I've already started dinner. I thought I'd fix those chicken breasts before they go bad."

"Oh, right. I'll see you soon then," Jim said quietly, apology in his tone if not his words.

"Bye." Blair hung up the phone and smiled. It helped knowing Jim was a least a little contrite. He began to work out in his head how he could use that to his advantage.  There were a couple of tests he'd been waiting to spring on the unsuspecting sentinel.

Digging around under the counter he came up with a deep cast iron skillet and with a little more searching produced the matching lid. He set these on the stove and placed the cutting board next to the sink. As he pealed the onions under cool running water someone knocked at the door. Blair bristled with an unexplained apprehension mingled with an undercurrent of excitement.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as his fight or flight instincts unaccountably kicked in.  He turned off the water and wiped his hands on a dish towel, leaving the onions in the sink. 

As he reached for the phone he heard Miranda's seductive voice calling through the door. "Blair. Blair, I need you."

He felt his body move to the door even as his mind screamed it was a huge mistake. The apprehension slowly dissipated, but the excitement grew by leaps and bounds. He unlocked the door and threw it open to find Miranda standing there expectantly. Blair retreated towards the kitchen as she strolled into the loft locking the door behind her.

Blair backed up until the pole next to the kitchen island blocked his way. He grasped the pole behind him with both hands as he gaped at the alluring woman in front of him. She wore a short, black slip dress that was shimmering and sheer. In one hand she held a jeweled dagger. Light danced off the sparkling handle throwing reflections of red and blue around the room. The blade seemed to glow all on its own.

"How did you find me?" Blair asked at last, amazed he could speak at all.

"I marked you. We are bonded," she answered simply.

Blair nodded and swallowed. His body seemed frozen, but his thoughts raced. That explained Jim's irrational behavior today he reasoned; Jim was reacting unconsciously to the interference of their own bond. As Miranda moved closer his mind began to fog and his ability to form rational thoughts was lost. He did maintain the notion however that he was in big trouble.

She was close now, only inches from him. Her warm breath ghosting over his face had a strange calming effect. He felt the fear subside almost completely, but his heart continued to race as he inhaled her scent in softly panting respirations. He reached out his hands sliding them around her waist to pull her abruptly into a kiss. There was a violent snap of energy and Miranda wrenched herself away from him at the shock. Her face was a mask of surprise and anger.

"I'm in control here," she hissed. She moved away and paced the room, drawing her hands repeatedly through her dark hair as she glared at him appearing confused and distrustful.

As she moved away Blair's thoughts cleared and he leaned back against the pole impassively. He and Jim had both assumed the energy current  was something Miranda had done, but it now appeared she didn't understand it either, in fact it seemed to piss her off. Blair realized suddenly it actually originated from within him, like a short circuit when she tried to interfere with the Sentinel-Guide bond. That bond was obviously stronger than the one she tried to initiate. He crossed his arms over his chest and contemplated the half-dressed woman. She didn't seem so appealing at the moment.

Miranda stopped pacing and stared at her chosen one. His face showed no emotion. In fact, he seemed to have lost interest altogether. "You're not going to kill me," he said softly.

She reevaluated her situation. This one was much stronger than she had anticipated. He would fight. He drew power from another source. One she couldn't identify, one she didn't understand. How could she have misjudged him so completely? She knew she would win in the end, but at what cost? 

With three kills in the bag and three days left to make the forth she knew she had time. Although she would have to wait for the aborted bond to dissolve completely before trying another with someone else. It would be close, but she decided she would wait and make another choice. It wasn't an ideal situation, she'd settle for something quick and easy and then she would be able to rest.

Moving to the door she spared a last glance at the powerful young man. He looked back at her disapprovingly and with what she could only describe as pity in his eyes. An anger exploded in her chest with fierce passion. A real emotion. It startled her. She had sold her soul so long ago she had almost forgotten what one felt like. Her pseudo-life of beauty and comfort gave her only deadness inside. Nothing like this. Maybe the fight would be worth it, because she'd do anything to hold onto this fire in her gut.

"I am going to kill you," she uttered breathlessly.

She once again stalked her prey, closing in on him and running a hand up his chest. He closed his eyes briefly with a look of extreme concentration and when he opened them again he appeared completely unaffected by her power. Anger burned within her as he caught her by the arm to still her unwanted caress and stared at her with defiant disdain. She reacted to the powerful emotion and lashed out with a practiced flick of her wrist . His eyes widened in surprise as the warm wetness across his throat soaked into his shirt. He released her with a shocked gasp as he slid down the pole to the floor.

"There now," Miranda cooed as she nudged him away from the counter so he was laying flat on the floor. As she knelt beside him he weakly tried to push her away. He had defeated the first bond, but now that she knew of his hidden strength she could compensate. She nuzzled his head away playfully to expose the wound on his neck. Blood spilled freely from the near fatal wound. She tasted him slowly at first, savoring the victory. Then, as his struggles abated and he allowed her free access, she greedily ingested his life's blood.

Jim closed his cell phone, grateful for once Sandburg had done as he was asked. He'd half expected the kid to show up at the crime scene insisting Jim might need him. He probably owed his roommate an apology and definitely an explanation, but he was unable to explain the sense of unease he'd harbored ever since that woman had touched his partner. He had felt the surge of energy himself right through Blair's body. Jim let Brown know he was leaving and headed for the truck at a trot.

As he neared the loft Jim gave in to the growing urgency tugging at him and hit the lights and sirens for the last several blocks home. Screeching into a parking spot Ellison shut off the engine and sprinted for the building. As he opened the door to the stairwell he felt a jolt sear through him leaving him physically ill. The essence of Blair he carried within him was ripped away and the connection to his partner was broken. Jim fell to his knees and cried out instinctively for the loss. 

Blair was dead. What else could have broken the bond? Jim had lost the connection one time before, not so very long ago at the fountain. Waves of nausea pounded him and his senses spiraled in every direction. After what seemed like an eternity he struggled to his feet and pulled himself along the wall and up the stairs.

Although the wound was much deeper than she had intended, the flow began to subside. Miranda knew she had to harvest the seed prior to death or the process simply wouldn't work. She had taken much more blood than necessary, realizing too late how strong a bond she had created. Now she couldn't kill him right away without endangering herself. She would have to keep him alive for a little while longer. She leaned in to examine the wound and discovered it had already stopped bleeding. In fact, the edges seemed to be closing themselves.

An anguished cry escaped her lips as she rushed around the loft looking for a mirror. At last she found one in the bathroom. Grabbing the edge of the medicine cabinet she pulled it towards her. Still quite beautiful, she had aged ten to fifteen years. She sighed heavily. He seemed to be using the bond to his own advantage, drawing the power into healing his body, taking her precious energy and stealing her youth away. 

Tears streamed down her face as she flung herself back to the kitchen. She stood over him and stared in rage and awe.  She would regain her youth with his seed she reasoned, but she could not afford to wait; she would take the chance and do it now. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked back at her. 

"I hope you know, you've taken all the fun out of this," She admonished stiffly.

"Good," he groaned and closed his eyes as she moved nearer to him.

Miranda straddled his hips abruptly. Blair jerked once uncontrollably beneath her before his head lolled back as he passed out. She grasped the edges of his flannel shirt and ripped the buttons off with one strong jerk. Picking up the dagger, she gingerly wiped the blood from the blade with his T-shirt. As an afterthought she used her sacred blade to cut the collar of the shirt. She put down the knife on the floor and used both hands to rip the shirt away, exposing Blair's chest and abdomen. 

Taking a second to admire the anatomy she ran her fingers through the dark chest hair and teased gently at the nipple ring. She removed the ring and rested it on his belly for a moment while she retrieved the dagger. She selected a clean, dry lock of hair from his head and cut it with the knife while she began the incantation. She opened the end of the large handle of the knife and placed the hair and the jewelry inside with her other trophies where they would stay until a new hunt cycle began in ten or twelve years.

Rocking back on her heels, Miranda rested her buttocks lightly on Blair's thighs as she undid the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. Pounding footsteps echoed from the hall and the sound of a key in the lock tore her attention away from her task.

"Sandburg!... BLAIR!" a man's voice shouted. A moment of panic set Miranda in motion, disappearing with her knife out the balcony doors a fraction of a second before the loft door flew open.

Reaching the top of the stairs Jim once again froze. The smell of blood was heavy in the air. He stumbled back against the wall unwilling to witness what his heart told him he would find. Unbidden, the sound of a single heartbeat reached the Sentinel's sensitive ears. It was rapid and had a strange, almost wooden sounding echo, but it was his partner's heartbeat. No doubt at all. Jim rushed forward and tried the locked door. "Sandburg!" he shouted as he fumbled with his keys. "BLAIR!"

Jim pulled his gun as he opened the door. He took only a second to process the sights, sounds, and smells that assailed him. The smell of blood threatened to overwhelm him, so he adjusted the dial in his head slightly. The odor of onions was strong, but nothing else smelled out of place in the loft. He listened to Blair's steady heartbeat, relieved it sounded normal again.

Blair lay on the floor with his eyes closed, blood covered his neck and chest, the counter, pole and floor. His shirt was ripped open and his jeans were undone. Jim moved to him and knelt down to place his hands on the younger man's chest. As soon as he touched him he once again felt the connection to his guide. It was weak, but it was still there. Jim dropped his head and whispered thanks he hadn't been too late.

"Jim...." Blair murmured.

"Right here, Chief," Jim answered as he searched in vain for the source of the blood.

"What happened?" Blair asked, glancing down at the congealing red paste on his chest nervously. "Why'd you cut up my clothes?"

"I didn't. I think you were attacked," Jim said as he helped Blair to sit up so he could check his back for injuries.

"Attacked? By who? Where did all this blood come from?"

"It's your blood. I can't find a wound though."

"Mine? Are you sure? Nothing hurts," Blair declared as he investigated the area again.  

Jim sighed in relief and exasperation as he collapsed against the counter, crashing from the adrenaline surge he had been riding. 

"Chief, believe me, I know your blood. You bleed pretty often, you know. This is your blood," Jim argued as he picked up a dish towel from the floor and began to wipe away some of the still wet mess on Blair's neck and chest. "Your nipple ring is gone," he said.

"Someone must have taken it," Blair reasoned as he wrestled the dishtowel away from Jim's hand.

"Maybe you took it out and forgot."

"Jim, it's kind of sensitive. I don't just take it out and play with it," Blair huffed.

Jim shrugged. "How do you feel?" he questioned worriedly.

Blair stretched, thinking it over for a minute. "I feel fine. Hungry, I guess. No wound, huh? Maybe I just had a nose bleed and fell."

"Yeah, that's it. And you ripped your shirt on the way down. Not likely. You just said someone must have taken the nipple ring. Besides," Jim noted as he fingered the collar of the T-shirt, "this has been cut. Let me call Simon. We need to get a forensics team in here."

"No way, man. What would you even say? Obviously I'm not hurt. Look, people at the station already think there's something going on between us. They're just way off base for now. We can't give them anything that might lead them in the right direction."

"We've got to catch her, Chief. Or you're gonna be her next victim."

"Her who? You mean the girl on campus today? Why do you think she had anything to do with this?"

"I just know." Jim reached out and grasped Blair's arm. The thrumming current was gone.

Blair crouched and then stood. He fastened and then zipped his pants and shrugged out of his ruined shirts. "We can drop these off at forensics tomorrow. Right now we have a one man forensics unit that I'd put up against anybody's team. Come on, you know the drill."

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Blair guided him through each sense as he examined the loft, and then Blair. 

They found nothing. Afterward they sat at the table and Jim questioned Blair carefully and at great length, but he didn't remember anything after their brief phone conversation. After a lengthy debate they decided it would be best to clean up the mess in the floor.

Blair finished wiping off the kitchen island as Jim rinsed the mop and went to put it away. "Listen, Jim. I'm going to go get cleaned up, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Jim answered and wandered into the kitchen. "What were you going to fix for dinner?" he asked aware of Blair's growling stomach.

Blair followed him into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator taking out a package of chicken breasts. "I was gonna brown these in some sautéed onions and then cover them with the left over spaghetti sauce and cook them in the oven."

"About 350?" Jim asked as he turned on the oven. Blair nodded absently still staring into the fridge. "Is there any more of that mozzarella?" Jim asked as he began chopping the onions.

"Yeah, wanna put some on top?" Blair produced the cheese and shut the door when Jim nodded.

"I thought you were dead," Jim whispered hoarsely. He stopped chopping and lowered his head. "I lost the connection."

"You mean the bond. Do you feel it now?" Blair asked gently placing his hand on the big man's back.

"Yeah, but it's weak. I only feel it when we're in physical contact."

Blair nodded. The bond. There was something important about it. but he couldn't seem to remember. "I still feel it," he said at last.

"Good. It must just be me then. Maybe something with my senses," Jim sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. " Damn onions," he added to hide his embarassment.

"Yeah, we'll work on it," Blair muttered distractedly. He patted Jim's back and walked to his room without another word.

Jim stared for a moment at Blair's closing doors. Something wasn't right, but the whole situation was bizarre. Jim continued to prepare the meal as he waited for his partner's return.

Blair moved to the fire escape to unlock the door then walked numbly to his bed and sat on the edge to wait. Miranda slipped into the room and sidled up seductively. She hated to use parlor tricks. They spent energy she'd rather use on her looks, but now they seemed necessary just to get close to this one. She also hated interruptions. Through the years there had been relatively few. Usually a wife or family member, but they had always been easily dispatched so she could carry on.

She kissed Blair's forehead and tilted his head back to regard him. She took in the beauty of his eyes, finding it somehow fitting he should have a protector. A treasure should be guarded. Just as Blair had momentarily angered her, the other man had frightened her. Giddy with new found emotions she wondered briefly what else she might feel. Compassion? Warmth? Love? Doubtful.

She sought out Blair's warm, soft lips with her own, caressing his still bare shoulders and back still sticky with the residue of her earlier feast. Pushing him to lay cross-wise on the bed she straddled him once again. He returned her kisses gently, lovingly, exploring her body with his hands. Then he unexpectantly rolled with her so that he was on top, making her catch her breath in surprise. This time she didn't protest, even though she obviously was not in charge. Blair reached to undo his pants with one hand while stroking her skin with the other. Their kisses grew more fervent and a low moan escaped Miranda's lips.

Suddenly the warm weight on top of her was gone. She released an outraged cry of frustration at the man who had snatched her prize away from her. He glared back at her. Blair looked dazed, his eyes unfocused as he stayed upright only by benefit of the beefy arm around his waist.

Jim grew concerned after a few minutes of perfect silence and had opened up his hearing a little to gauge Blair's progress. He heard the same faint wooden echo of Sandburg's heartbeat and then a low moan. He crashed through the French doors and grabbed his wayward partner around the waist and pulled him from the woman on the bed. Her scream bounced around the room and the inside of Jim's head.

"He belongs to me now," she announced as she climbed off the futon. She looked like the woman from the university, only much older, somewhere around fifty he guessed. She held a dagger threateningly in her hand.

Jim turned his body slightly so Blair was away from the crazed woman. "No."

"Blair. Come to me," she called, confident he would do as she bid him. When he didn't budge from the other man's arms she blinked. "Blair...."

Jim backed out of the small bedroom moving Blair along in front of him. As he let go with one hand to reach for his weapon Blair's weight shifted closer to the woman. Miranda reached out quickly to grab for his arm. As she touched it a snap of electricity shot through her and she stumbled back and was gone. Jim stumbled as well, taking Blair with him as he fell.

Ellison shook his head to clear it, then checked his partner's breathing and heart rate, noting that once again the beat was normal. Positioning Blair on his side Jim moved to the fire escape and locked it. Monitoring Blair's heartbeat, Jim checked out the rest of the loft, locking everything down tight as he went.

Blair had let her in both times. He was sure of it. Why would he risk his life and lie to Jim about it just for a piece of ass? He wouldn't. She had some type of power over him. It was clear he would have to keep a close eye on Sandburg until he could catch this woman. Maybe whatever she'd done to Blair was the reason he had lost touch with his guide. That thought made Jim very angry.

Blair was sitting up and looking around when Jim finished his rounds. He looked up at Jim and stated matter-of-factly "I'm tired of waking up with my pants open, man. What's going on?"

Jim reached a hand down and helped him up. "I'm not sure," he said at last. "She was here again. I saw her. I spoke to her." Blair shook his head and he pulled away as he rose to his feet. "Chief, you almost had sex with her right there on that bed," Jim said plaintively as he pointed into Blair's bedroom.

"I think I'd remember that," Blair stated. "I do have some control over my impulses, you know."

"Not with her you don't. She does something to you. You can't stop yourself. She's the reason I can't feel the connection. She's blocking it somehow. Only it doesn't work when I'm touching you."

Blair studied his friend intently. Jim wouldn't just make up something like that. "What do we do about it?" he asked.

"First of all, you don't leave my sight. Second, we zip your fly. Maybe a chastity belt...." he reached for Blair's zipper with a laugh only to be swatted away by his red faced roommate.

"Smart ass," Blair mumbled as he zipped up and headed for the kitchen with Jim close on his heels. "What do you think she wants?" he asked.

"It's pretty obvious what she wants," Jim sighed.

Blair looked approvingly over the progress Jim had made toward supper. It was getting late and he was hungry now. He opened the oven, settled the lid in place and slid the heavy skillet in.

"You know, Jim, there have been lots of cultures over the centuries who believed that semen held the secrets of life," Blair began to lecture.

"Uh, Chief, you're covered in dried blood. Maybe it doesn't bother you, but it's starting to creep me out," Jim said as he watched his partner, who acted as if nothing had just happened.

Blair looked up confused for a minute. "Sorry, Jim. I thought I already cleaned up. You're right though, my hair feels gross." He headed for his bedroom to get some clean clothes. This time Jim followed right along with him and stood in the doorway watching intently.

"I guess you got a little sidetracked before," Jim said seriously.

Blair regarded him for a minute and then smiled. "Gives new meaning to the word 'watchman'. Are you coming into the bathroom with me?" he asked, no sarcasm. Just a question.

"No," Jim said thoughtfully, "I'd see her way before she could get to the bathroom. There's no way you could let her in from in there."

A hurt look crossed the younger man's face at the lack of trust, but it passed quickly. "That needs to cook for at least forty five minutes," he said as he entered the bathroom and closed the door. Within a few minutes the water came on. Jim positioned himself in a chair with a clear view of the bathroom door as well as all the entrances. He laid his gun on the table in front of him.

Blair leaned into the hot water, letting it soak into his hair. Immediately the water around his feet turned brown and pink as it swirled down the drain. He shampooed twice. Lather, rinse, repeat, he mused to himself. He applied conditioner and left it in while soaping up his body, taking extra care with the blood clotted in his chest hair. He rinsed his hair letting the flow take the soap away from his body as well, unconcerned with the extra set of hands in his hair and helping to rinse his chest.

He turned and leaned into her, pressing her into the wall of the shower. He captured her lips with his own. His hunger equal to hers. She kept her pleasure silent this time, even as they became one.

Jim sat at his post, pondering the days events. If he hadn't taken Blair to the university this morning she never would have found him. No, that might not be true. After all, Blair was at Rainer a lot. He works there, so she might have found him anyway. And Sandburg did have a way of drawing trouble. Hell, it was practically a gift with the kid.

He listened to the water as it carried away the smell of blood, and he also listened to Blair's heart. It calmed him, kept him grounded. Then suddenly it terrified him when one beat it was normal, the next it was hollow, empty. As he picked up his gun and moved to the bathroom door he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex.

The door bounced back slightly as it slammed into the wall. Jim ripped down the shower curtain and leveled his gun. He jerked it back up as he realized Blair's body was between him and his intended target. She glared triumphantly over Blair's shoulder at Jim. She looked haggard, old. She raised the jeweled knife, murmuring an ancient rite, preparing to make the death cut at the moment the seed spilled. Jim reached into the shower and shut off the hot water.

Blair startled out of his trance and jumped away from the cold blast of water. Jim caught him as he fell over the side of the tub. She was gone. Vanished in the blink of a Sentinel's eye. Jim bent over and turned off the water, then straightened and holstered his weapon into the back of his jeans. 

On the floor Blair covered himself with the shower curtain. "She was here again, right?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah." Jim sank down to the edge of the tub, regretting the move instantly as water soaked through to his butt. He snagged a towel off the rack and threw it to Sandburg. "Okay," he stated firmly. "From now until we catch her, you don't do anything without me. Got it?"

"Got it." Blair clutched the towel and leaned back against the sink.

They ate dinner and then did the dishes, leaving them in the rack to dry. So much for pretending things were normal. Neither said much as they moved into the livingroom and took up residence on the couch side by side. Blair wore clean dry sweats and Jim's jeans were mostly dry now. Blair put on his glasses and picked up a book while Jim flicked through channels on TV.

Before long the stress of the day took it's toll and Blair along with it. His head slumped to his chest and he snored softly. Jim collected his book and eased his glasses off his face. He laid these on the coffee table and pulled his partner over to rest his head in his lap. He tugged the afghan from the back of the couch over Blair and turned the volume almost all the way down on the movie he had settled on.

Jim became aware of her the moment she arrived. He realized the echo didn't come from Blair, rather she seemed to echo his heart beat in place of her own. If she even had one. A tingle of energy surged throughout Blair's body. Nice warning system Jim decided.

"I need him," Miranda said softly from the shadows.

Jim moved his arms around the sleeping anthropologist. "Why? Why him?" he asked.

"You know why. He's special. I wish I hadn't started with him," she replied, sounding almost remorseful.  "We've gone too far to stop. If I don't finish now I'll die."

"So you are going to kill him just like that. Even though you know how special he is."

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "If you give him to me, I can make it worth your while. Riches... eternal life... me."

Jim laughed bitterly. "There is nothing worth this man's life to me. I'll kill you myself if I have to, but you are never touching him again."

Miranda moved out of the darkness to show herself to Jim not knowing he had seen her quite clearly in the shadows. She was very old now. Frail looking. "He did this to me. He used my power against me. He's no innocent," she decreed.

"Blair was only defending himself if he hurt you. You only have yourself to blame for this. Pay back for all the lives you've taken."

"I won't hurt him," she lied, continuing as if Jim had never spoken. "I need his seed to restore myself. You saw how beautiful I was. How can you deny me that?"

"You're a selfish bitch," Jim whispered fiercely. When Blair stirred in his arms he stroked his face to soothe him back to a deeper sleep.

"There's no place you can hide him from me. We are bonded. I'll follow wherever you go. You have to sleep eventually. As soon as you turn your back I'll take him from you." Her words hung in the air, but Miranda was gone. 

Jim considered the situation. He had been careless with his friend and Miranda had tried to kill him not once, but three times. He would not be careless again. He fingered a lock of Blair's hair as he watched the younger man sleep and studied him unabashed.

Miranda had been right about one thing, despite his somewhat angelic face as he slept, Blair was no innocent. Especially when it came to women. Jim suspected Blair's conquests not only rivaled, but surpassed his own. And at a much younger age. Of course Jim had been taken out of the game for a while when he was married and never tried too hard to get back into it. Suddenly he realized that this kind of male thinking was one of the reasons Miranda seemed to have no problem picking up and isolating her victims.

Add to that whatever mind whammy she was capable of and Jim knew Blair would go to her willingly if he should accidentally let him out of his sight, even in her current state of disrepair. Jim pondered this as the first rays of dawn teased through the windows. He sighed to himself and remembered the vampire movies he had watched as a kid and vaguely wondered if maybe she could be destroyed by the sun. No such luck he decided, at least one of the murders had taken place in broad daylight.

Besides, sun or no sun, Jim knew she was still nearby, biding her time. He could feel her. He decided to test his theory so he leaned back and closed his eyes. Within minutes the now familiar tingle announced her arrival. The tell-tale heart beat sounded a few feet away. Jim tracked her with his hearing as she moved around the couch and drew close to him. He doubted she would ever know it was her own heart beat that gave her away. Or rather Blair's heart beat within her hollow chest.

He raised his head and his gun at the same time. She held an iron bar which she swung hard at Jim's head. He moved swiftly to the side, not able to get a shot off, the bar glanced painfully off his shoulder. The big man's sudden movement dislodged Blair from his peaceful spot on the couch. A startled yelp escaped him as he hit the floor.

Jim recovered quickly and aimed for the woman's head. "Stay down, Sandburg!" he yelled as he pulled the trigger.

Miranda spun around to face him, but didn't fall. She stared at him dumbly, then turned to look down at Blair. Jim knew he hadn't missed, he could see what by all rights should have been a fatal wound, except for the distinct lack of blood. She gently touched the back of her head, then laughed. The wound seemed to fold up on itself and disappear.

"You like that?" she asked without looking at Jim. "Your little friend taught me that." She seemed to waver, and her voice was weak. The heart beat faded a moment before Miranda vanished. 

Blair remained on the floor, unmoving, even though Jim had seen him cover his head with his hands when the gun had fired. Jim stood above him still clutching the gun, even though it hadn't really done any good. He strained his hearing almost to the point of zoning as he listened for Miranda, not believing for a second she was really gone. 

He felt sick when he realized she would be back. In all probability she would kill Jim, then eventually Blair. And there didn't seem to be a damned thing he could do about it.

Nothing else matter except Blair's safety. He would tune out everything else to listen for the evil echo and keep Blair close to feel for the electrical current that preceded her arrival. He would listen, and keep Blair close, and fight. That's all he could do.

Blair woke on the floor in the living room next to the couch. He struggled to sit up but didn't seem to have enough energy. When he glanced at the clock on the VCR he decided it was still way too early on a Saturday morning for this kind of shit, if it even was Saturday. He remembered Friday and going to the university with Jim and the guys but not much else. 

As he looked around he saw Jim standing at the edge of the couch holding his gun, still as death. Not a good sign. 

"Shit," Blair said out loud. He tried to get up but his muscles seemed to be made of Jell-O. "Jim, hey, Jim. Listen to my voice, man," he called from the floor. "Come on back, Jim. Follow my voice."

To his great surprise and relief the tall detective moved quickly toward him and extended his left hand. He didn't speak and continued to hold his gun in his right hand. Blair studied his friend briefly before reaching up to accept the much needed offer of assistance. Jim locked onto his wrist and hauled him off the floor in one smooth motion pulling him tightly into a one-armed hug and held him there.

"What happened? Jim? What's going on?" Blair questioned rapid fire, trying unsuccessfully to break out of the iron grip. "You're starting to freak me out here, man."

Ellison looked around without answering then maneuvered Blair to the foot of the staircase. He motioned upward with his gun.

"You want me to go upstairs?" Blair asked uncertainly.

Jim began to climb the steps dragging Blair along with him. "Okay, okay, I'm coming, give me a minute," Blair complained as he frantically tried to get his legs to cooperate. Jim slowed down and allowed him to regain his footing before insistently pushing him along.

When they reached the top Blair was exhausted and bent to catch his breath. Jim reached for something on the dresser with his gun hand, but never let up his grasp of his partner with his other. He then turned to the bed and pulled back the covers.

Blair stood and stared at him wide-eyed. "Something I should know? You been making plans without me, Jim?"

Jim crawled into the bed and yanked Blair in with him when he didn't follow meekly behind. Blair protested loudly but was too physically spent to do much about it. Jim laid his gun on the bed and grasped Blair by the left wrist. With a practiced hand he clicked the handcuff into place. He put the other cuff on his own left wrist. 

Blair stared at him in disbelief. "Jim," he said at last, "I don't know what's going on, but I trust you, man."

As Blair talked Jim laid him down and curled around him, pulling the comforter up over them. Blair didn't understand why he felt so weak, like someone had pulled a plug and drained the energy right out of him. He just felt so tired, so very, very tired. And he did trust Jim. So he leaned back against his partner's chest and closed his eyes. He could try and figure out what was happening later, he just needed to rest for a few minutes. He was asleep in seconds.

For the second time since the sun had come up Blair woke confused by his surroundings. The thing surrounding him at the moment was a burly detective. He glanced at the bedside clock. 4:18. PM? No way had he slept for eleven hours. The sun streaming through the skylight seemed to be right, though.

Blair moved to rub his face with his hands, but only the right one reached his face. The left one was cuffed to the arm Jim had stretched out beneath his pillow. Concerned he might have disturbed Jim he turned slightly to look at him. Jim lay on his side with his eyes wide open, a blank stare on his face.

"Oh, man. The lights are on, but no one's home I see." Blair began to talk softly to his partner, using his voice to bring him around. 

Two hours of talking, pleading, shouting, patting, pinching, and even a few curses and tears brought no response from the apparently deeply zoned sentinel.

Blair lay exhausted in the same position he had started out in. He shifted onto his back for what seemed like the hundredth time. Miracle of miracles he thought as Jim, for the first time, didn't immediately roll him back onto his side and pull him in to his chest. But that was the only movement Jim had made, although it had been repeated automatically and often.

"Well, that's progress, I guess. Dammit, Jim, what's going on? I don't understand, why won't you talk to me if you're not really zoned?" Blair punctuated his words by slamming his fist down on the mattress. Or rather Jim's leg. "Oh, hey, sorry, man." 

Pain stimulus was out Blair thought, realizing it wasn't exactly Jim's leg he had hit. If that didn't get a response nothing would.

After laying quietly for another hour looking at the ceiling Blair began to complain. "I've got to go to the bathroom, Jim. If you don't let me up I'm going to pee all over you. There's got to be a house rule against that. Number 829, don't pee on the Sentinel." 

Blair rambled on only half joking, not really expecting a reply. The bladder situation was getting desperate and he had already resigned himself to the fact that he was going to wet the bed. To his great surprise and imminent relief Jim pushed him gently to the edge of the bed and followed silently as Blair got up.

"God, Jim, I could kiss you. I think I will. Worked for sleeping beauty, right? Maybe later." He led the way downstairs before Ellison changed his mind.

Even though Blair wouldn't have been able to get far from his watchman due to the cuffs linking them, Jim still held his left wrist firmly with his own left hand. This kept Blair directly in front of him, effectively covering his back.

"This kind of feels like being a human shield," Blair joked. "Of course, if they go for a head shot, you're a goner. You know, the height thing. Get it? Never mind." Blair's voice sounded dry and scratchy.

They reached the bathroom and Blair stepped on the shower curtain on the floor in his haste. "What happened here?" he asked. "Where was I when all this went down? Sorry, no pun intended. I guess a little privacy is too much to ask. How about my hand back? No? No problem, I can do this one handed." He sighed luxuriously as he finished his business then washed his hand as best he could.

"I think you had better go too, Jim," Blair lectured. "I'm adding house rule number 830--Don't pee on the Guide, okay? Good." Blair ducked under Jim's arm and then maneuvered Jim into place in front of the toilet and waited. 

"Come on, man, don't make me do this," Blair groaned when it became apparent that Jim wasn't taking the subtle hint. "Shit. Okay, I'll get you started." He reached around the big man's waist and awkwardly undid the button fly jeans then eased Jim's hand up to rest on his crotch. As if on autopilot Jim's instincts kicked in and he finished the job.

"Great! Good job. Jimmy made a pee pee. I thought we were gonna have to get personal there for a minute," Blair gushed as he reached to flush the commode. Jim used both hands to button his pants, practically pulling Blair's shoulder out of the socket. 

"Ow, ow, ow." Blair protested and then grabbed the sink to prevent Ellison's exit of the room. "Hold up there, big guy. You don't touch me again until you wash those hands."

Bathroom chores done, Jim attempted to herd Blair back up the stairs. "No way, man." Blair let his body go limp until he was sitting on the floor. 

Jim proceeded to slide him along the hardwood on his ass to the bottom of the stairs where he bent to pick him up. This time however, Blair was rested and Jim was obviously growing weary. He couldn't quite catch the little guy even though they were tethered together with six inches of chain.

"Food, Jim, we need food. Come on man, you've got to be hungry. I am."

Jim stopped grappling with his roommate and tilted his head as if to listen. Blair took the stop in the action as consent and headed for the kitchen. This time he did the dragging as Jim follow behind.

Once in the kitchen Blair opened the ice box door and began to gather sandwich supplies. As Jim stood behind him, he bent and rested his head wearily on the shorter man's shoulder. A strange tingle ran up Blair's spine. Jim jumped and grabbed Blair into his arms causing Blair to drop the food in the floor.

"What! What's wrong?" Blair shouted trying his best to locate the danger  his friend was apparently trying to protecting him from.

Jim backed them up to the cabinet and grabbed a knife off the drain, even though his gun was still holstered at his back. He tilted his head and listened, then drew Blair to him and held him protectively. He rocked the younger man gently, his exhaustion and fear evident.

"Tell me what's wrong, Jim, I can't help unless I know what's wrong. Please let me help." Blair studied his partner as best he could crushed to the man's chest. "Let's go back upstairs," he said at last. "You seem more at ease up there. Come on."

Blair took the knife out of the now shaking hands and placed it on the counter. "Come on." He nudged Jim toward the steps to the upper portion of the loft. Jim stopped and picked up a box of Frosted Flakes off the counter. "Okay, that's doable," Blair said as he gathered quickly a bowl and spoon from the cabinet and half gallon milk carton out of the fridge.

When they reached the bedroom once again they settled on the side of the bed. Blair balanced the bowl on his lap and poured a generous helping of cereal in it. "I don't know how you eat this stuff all the time. Do you know how much processed sugar there is in this? Do you care? I hope it's filling," he said as he added the milk.

Blair took a mouthful and chewed hastily. "It's good. Not great, but good. I could get used to this. Can you imagine me on this much sugar all the time? You want some?" He held a spoon to the Sentinel's mouth which predictably opened and took the food. "I thought so," Blair smiled. They continued this way, Blair taking a bite, then feeding a bite to his friend until the bowl was empty. A second bowl with the last of the milk was consumed in the same way. Blair decided he may need the empty milk jug later, so he kept it close.

Just as Blair sat the empty bowl on the floor he was pulled into the bed and tucked under the covers with military precision. Jim assumed his position and held him in a gentle embrace. Blair could feel Jim's warm breath on his neck and he imagined if he leaned into his partner he could feel his heartbeat. For once Blair had nothing to say as he fingered the cuff around his wrist. He could see no end to the situation and realized he had to reach Simon, he couldn't think of anything else to do.

The little trip downstairs had sapped his energy. He thought about the buzz of electricity that had so unnerved Jim in the kitchen, still rubbing his finger in the cuff. Slipping his hand under the pillow he fingered the cuff on Jim's wrist as well under the guise of touching his friend's hand affectionately. A plan formed in his mind when he realized Jim's cuff was no where near as tight as his own. Unfortunately, he felt a little too warm and safe and drifted off to sleep before he could put his plan into action.

Blair lay on his side, munching the last of the Frosted Flakes. He had been awake for a while even though it was still pre-dawn. All further requests for a bathroom break or a drink of water were ignored. He couldn't even get his seemingly zoned partner to take a bite of the dry cereal. When Blair leaned forward slightly to drop the empty box to the floor Jim didn't move, as opposed to the usual abrupt end to all other position changes Blair had attempted in the last several hours.

Shifting ever so slightly to view his Sentinel, Blair noted the half-closed, glazed-over eyes. Jim had been awake for almost three days now, as Blair was certain he had not slept while he himself had slept a great deal of the time. This was his opportunity. He slipped his hand under the pillow and ever so gently eased the cuff down Jim's hand and over his fingers. 

Way too easy, Blair thought just he noticed the same slight tingle he had felt in the kitchen that had set Jim off. He bolted from the bed and fled for the stairs, bumping into something cold and hard next to the bed. An inhuman screech echoed through the loft as the thing tumbled down the steps.

Blair jumped back in horror and fell against the dresser, knocking everything on top of it to the floor. He didn't scream himself until he realized a furious Sentinel had launched from the bed directly at him. Blair was grabbed and  thrown face first onto the bed. His arms were roughly pulled behind him as his free hand was yanked toward the one still wearing the hand cuff. All the while Jim made a horrible keening cry like a man on the edge of insanity.

"Jim! No! I'm sorry. I won't try to get away again...."

Blair's pleas went unheard and the cuff was clicked tightly into place. Jim grabbed Blair by the arms and rolled him into the bed. He then crawled over him and took up the now familiar protective stance guarding his smaller partner. There was no gentleness now, only desperation and fear. Blair couldn't decide which of them was shaking harder.

"What was that thing?" Blair ventured when at last he found his voice, knowing no answer would be forthcoming. 

Well over an hour later Blair calmed down enough to think. He kept an eye on the stairs while he struggled against the cuffs. His left arm had a pins and needles sensation as most of his weight and some of Jim's was laying on it. He pushed his hands down and over his butt and then wiggled them down past his thighs to the backs of his knees. With a considerable struggle he managed to slide his lower legs one at a time through the loop made by his arms and the cuffs. He did all of this with no interference from the man who put him in the situation to begin with. Blair stopped to contemplate this as he rubbed the circulation back into his hand.

Was Jim feeling bad for cuffing him or was he just too tired to fight any more? Maybe after two days of fighting Blair and whatever that monster was he was giving up. No. Jim never gave up on anything. Whatever the reason, Blair had to get help before the thing made another appearance. Had there really been anything there to start with? Maybe the delusion was contagious. I must be losing my mind, too, he thought tiredly.

Blair studied the floor next to the bed with the minuscule amount of light provided by the waning moon. He searched intently for anything he might be able to use. Handcuff keys would be nice. There was a small black box near the bed...

"Yes, cell phone," Blair muttered. He Kicked off one shoe and pulled his knee up to his chest. Using both hands he yanked off his sock. He dropped his leg over the side of the bed, once again meeting no resistance from his tired friend, and felt around with his foot until he touched the phone. Slipping his big toe into the curve of the cord after several tries he finally looped it around his foot.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," he sang softly to himself as he pulled the phone into the bed and tugged it free from his foot. He speed dialed Simon without a second thought.

Simon groaned into wakefulness as the ringing phone disrupted the end of a peaceful night's sleep. He fumbled around for his glasses and glanced at the clock once he had them on. A quarter to five. 

"Damn. This better be important," he grumbled to himself knowing late night and early morning calls were never good news, especially for police captains. "Banks," he growled into the receiver.

"Simon! Thank God! Please don't hang up, it's Blair, please don't hang up. I need... Jim needs your help..."

"Sandburg! Shut up a minute, you're babbling." Simon sat up in the bed, the kids tone striking a protective nerve in him immediately. "Calm down and slowly tell me what's wrong."

"It's Jim. I don't know what else to do. He's really lost it, man. I can't even reach him right now. It's like he's shut down, you know. I can't explain it over the phone."

The urgency in the young man's voice sent a chill up Simon's spine. "Keep it together, Sandburg. I'm on my way. You're at the loft right?"

"Yeah, yeah. There's something else...." Blair hesitated.

"Go on," Simon urged impatiently.

"There's... It's just... just bring your gun."

"Never leave home without it," Simon assured sarcastically.

Blair sighed dramatically. "Have it in your hand when you get here, okay?"

"Blair, I'm not going to shoot Jim," Simon said adamantly.

"I know that. But just so you know, he is armed."

"He's always armed."

"I know, but I think there's something else here, too." The words were so soft Simon almost missed them. "Be careful."

Blair closed the phone and lay his head back on the pillow. He wondered briefly if he had done the right thing. Simon might be walking into a dangerous situation. And if they had to involve anyone else, they might end up carting Jim off to a padded cell somewhere. He sighed and looked over his shoulder. 

"Hang on, man, the Calvary's coming. I hope. Maybe I failed you, Jim. I should have found another way I guess. I'm sorry."

Jim told his story over a second cup of coffee, leaving out some of the more embarrassing details in deference to his partner. He could fill him in later when they were alone if the need arose. Simon had finished breakfast and he and Blair ate while Jim talked.

"That's incredible, man," Blair exclaimed as he polished off the last bite of toast. "I don't remember any of that."

"You need to eat something, Jim," Simon said as he got up from the table and took the still full plate of eggs to the microwave.

"It's true, Simon. I know what it sounds like, but I swear it really happened," Jim all but pleaded.

"There was something here, Simon. I knocked it down the stairs," Blair added nodding.

"So you think this 'thing' is responsible for the deaths at Rainier?" Simon asked. The microwave dinged and he returned the eggs to the table in front of Jim. "Eat."

"Yeah, and I think she killed a lot more young men, too." Jim answered around a mouthful of eggs.

"So where is it now? Is it still here?" Simon looked around the loft.

Jim dug into the eggs but kept a close eye on Blair who walked into the kitchen to get the coffee pot. "I think she's gone now," Jim said.

"How can you tell?" Blair asked, completely fascinated now that the ordeal was over. He poured himself another cup of coffee and freshened the other two cups on the table as well.

"Like I said, whenever she was in the room I could hear your heartbeat echoed through her. And you got this current, like an electrical charge, that would go through you."

"Yeah, I felt it a couple of times, too. Simon, that's why there's mayo all over the floor. Thanks for cleaning that up by the way," Blair interjected.

Jim took the brief interruption to inhale the rest of the eggs. "Anyway, before, I couldn't feel the bond between us unless we were in physical contact..."

"What bond?" Simon asked.

"Later, Simon." Blair held up a hand to quiet the much taller man but made eye contact with Jim. "You feel it now," he said, not a question.

"Yeah, I feel it like nothing ever happened."

They sat quietly for a minute staring at each other briefly before looking away. Blair snagged another piece of toast and Jim moved to pour more coffee into his already full cup.

"How touching." Simon finally broke the silence. "This is all way too deep for me."

Blair cut his eyes at Simon then continued the conversation. "Where do you think she went? Did she really disappear right in front of you?"

"Just like 'I Dream of Jeanie'. Who knows where she is now. She said if she didn't, you know, harvest your, um, seed, that she would die. Maybe we just outlasted her?"

Simon put his head down on the table and sighed heavily. "I can't put that into a report," he said at last. "I'm sorry, Jim. I believe you. You couldn't possibly make up a story like that. Sandburg, maybe..."

Blair's cheeks were still a little red from the last 'seed' comment as he glared at his unofficial boss. "Bite me, Simon."

Simon chuckled as he got up, then sobered. "No evidence, no body. No way to close this case. Get some sleep, Jim. I'm going to the station." He lightly cuffed Blair on the head on the way to the door. "Call me if you need anything, kid."

"Thanks, Simon. Thanks for everything," Blair called after him as he closed the door.

Blair gathered the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink. "Chief," Jim said then cleared his throat and looked at the table.

"Go lay down, Jim. You look like shit."

"I know. I want to sleep now, it's just..."

"She's gone, man. You said it yourself. Go to bed." Blair came back with a dish rag and began to wipe the table.

Jim continued to stare at the table top. "I'd just feel better if you...came with me."

"No way. I just spent two days in bed with you. No way."

"What if I'm wrong?" Jim raised his head and caught Blair's gaze with his own.

"Jim, we have to cut the cord sometime. Besides, I just had four cups of coffee. I'd never get to sleep."

Jim looked like a tired, frightened child. He glanced up the stairs and back to Blair. "Please," he said.

"Aurgghh," he groaned. "Fine. When did you learn 'puppy dog eyes'? I thought that was my area. I'll lay down with you. Did I really just say that? Man..." 

Blair went into the bathroom for a minute and Jim picked up his gun and unconsciously followed him to the door, his heart racing until Blair reappeared. "Come on. Let's go," Blair said motioning to the stairs.

When they reached Jim's bed Blair straightened the covers as Jim slipped off his shoes, socks, and jeans. Blair held up the covers while Jim slid in between them. He settled on his right side this time. Blair climbed in and lay on his back letting his shoulder touch Jim lightly between the shoulder blades. Jim sighed softly as he felt the contact and was very soon snoring softly.

A little over twenty minutes later the anthropologist slipped quietly out of the bed and down the stairs. He headed for the kitchen and started to run dish water, trying to be quiet even though he figured a speeding freight train rumbling through the loft wouldn't wake his exhausted partner. He had strongly suspected that if Jim could ever just relax he would be out for the count. 

Settling the dirty dishes into the hot water, he began to put away the dishes from two nights ago that were still in the dish rack. He glanced to his left to see if he needed to clean any more from the mayo spill when something dark caught his eye. Even with the absence of his 'electrical warning system' as Jim had dubbed it, Blair had no doubt who stood behind him.

"I thought you were gone," he said as he dropped his head wearily. 

He didn't turn around as a cold fear seized his chest and he found it difficult to catch his breath. He didn't really want a good look at the thing, after all panic wouldn't help his situation any. Maybe it was better this way. At least Jim was safely asleep upstairs.

"I still need you. I had to wait until the bond was completely gone to get around your protector," a crackling voice grated out behind him. "Give me your seed."

Blair glanced around the counter looking for a weapon of some kind. He had already put the knife away. "No," he said. His voice sounded much calmer than he felt. "Sorry, Miranda, it takes two to tango and I ain't dancing."

"I will cut it from you." A wretched laugh erupted from the thing nearly causing a full fledge panic attack. At any other time the Guide's skyrocketing pulse rate would have brought the Sentinel running. Blair moved slightly down the counter to keep it from seeing his moving hands.

"Time is growing short!" it screamed.

Blair turned to face the thing, holding both hands in the waistband of his sweat pants, revulsion and fear clouding his face. As it swung the blade towards his groin Blair closed his eyes tightly, but didn't move. 

The clank of metal on metal was drowned out by the horrified scream from the mass of bones and decay that somehow stood before him. It held the handle of the dagger in it's emaciated hand, but the blade lay in two pieces on the floor. The thing crumpled as Blair pulled the cast iron lid from his sweats.

It's sunken eyes stared up at him, tears formed and rolled down what was left of the leathery face. "I'm afraid," it cried.

"Shh, it's okay." Blair knelt down but didn't touch it. "It's over now. You can rest."

Undeserved compassion showed in the expressive eyes above her. He flinched, but didn't move away as she raised a hand to gently touched the tear sliding down his cheek.

A myriad of emotions passed through Miranda. Shame and remorse for her past deeds, warmth in the knowledge she wouldn't die alone, fear of what was to come, and ....love. With that she let go of the fight and slipped into the unknown darkness that surrounded and encompassed her. The glow from the handle of the dagger still clutched in her hand dimmed and went out.

Blair sat back and rubbed his face. He pushed his hair back as he tried to decide what to do. Before he could even think a soft humming noise emanated from the corpse. Starting at the finger that had touched his tear a glow began to form and work its way up and around the body. Time seemed to reverse itself within the glow. The gauntness began to fill, the lines receded, the leather became soft and supple. Within seconds Miranda was whole again, except for the gaping wound in the back of her head. Blood spilled from it like a waterfall and soon a large circle of crimson surrounded her head.

Tentatively Blair reached a hand to her neck to check for a pulse. The resulting release of energy snapped him back, slamming his head into the cabinet. He lay there for a moment too stunned to move before he blacked out.

Jim woke to darkness. The sun had been up when he and Blair had gone to bed so he must have slept for nine or ten hours at least. Blair wasn't in the bed beside him. His near panic faded as he internally registered the bond. Extending his hearing he easily picked up the familiar heart beat downstairs. It was fairly slow, as if at rest. Of course, Blair was sleeping down in his own bed. Jim sat up and stretched. He yawned and considered staying in bed, but he was hungry and he had to pee.

He took a deep breath and climbed out of bed. He smelled blood, and lots of it. Some of it was Blair's, but there were essences of a multitude of different blood odors. Jim grabbed his gun and ran down the stairs with his heart beating out of his chest. He didn't see anything until he reached the kitchen where Blair half sat against the counter with his eyes closed. He could see no blood until he rounded the kitchen island. Miranda, young and beautiful once again, lay in a large pool of blood from an apparent gun shot wound to the head. Jim glanced at the gun in his hand as he knelt next to Blair. It was the only gun in the house.

"Sandburg, wake up. Come on, buddy." Jim lightly tapped his unconscious partner's cheek. "That's it, Blair. Talk to me."

Blair squinted up at Jim and reached up to rub the back of his own head. He moaned at the touch. Jim followed his hand and felt the area with sensitive fingers. Oh, yeah, big bump. Probably a concussion.

"I guess you were out for a while," Jim replied softly, knowing he had slept through it and ultimately Blair had faced the monster all by himself.

Blair slumped back against the cabinet and was out again. Jim lowered him to the ground, moving him as far away from the woman's body as possible. He grabbed the phone and called an ambulance, then Simon.

"Simon, we got her...No, she's dead...I shot her that's how...No, he's still unconscious. I don't know what he'll remember...Well, they better get here quick because I'm going to the hospital with Sandburg...Yeah, see you soon." 

Jim hung up the phone and dropped down beside his friend. He could hear a siren in the distance when he pulled Blair into his lap and waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Jim gave the abridged version of the weekend events to Detective Brown en route to the hospital:  Miranda had targeted Blair as her fourth victim. She followed him home and was attempting to kill him when Jim had interceded, consequently shooting her in the head. 

While giving as accurate a statement as possible, Jim managed to leave out the time frame of the events and the more 'Twilight Zone' details. The forensics team and the coroner were already at work at the loft while Jim and Simon waited for word of Blair's condition in the ER lobby. 

Blair still hadn't regained consciousness when they moved him to a room several hours and a multitude of tests later.

Questions would be raised about why Jim had shot a woman armed only with a knife instead of attempting to disarm her. Once the blade was pieced together it would prove to be the murder weapon, with Miranda's prints on it. Jim was sure he would easily convince the peer review board that Sandburg's life had been in immediate danger and he hadn't had a choice. 

Jim pondered these things as he sat by Blair's hospital bed until he finally drifted off to sleep. When he woke dark blue eyes studied him intently.

"Hey," he said groggily. "The doctors were getting worried. They couldn't figure out why the long snooze." 

"I think I just blew a fuse," Blair smiled and shrugged. "I remember, Jim. I know everything that happened."

"What do you mean?"

"When she, you know...died, she passed through me somehow, or her conscious thoughts did anyway. I know what she was thinking in those last moments. She was sorry, Jim, I know that's not enough, but she was sorry."

"She'll burn in hell," Jim scoffed.

"Yeah, somehow, she knew that, too." Blair lowered his eyes, remembering the fear and resignation of the dying woman. "All the evidence you need is in the knife handle. She took trophies."

"What? Are you sure. Why would she do that?"

"It was part of the ritual that kept her young and attractive. But along the way, I guess from the very first life she took, she lost her humanity. She lost the very essence of life, the things that make life worth living. She was empty, a walking corpse from the very beginning, man. She really was a monster."

"I know, Chief, I know."

As Blair returned his eyes to his partner Jim could almost see the wheels turning. "Jim, how much do you remember from the time you spent watching over me?"

"All of it. I told you I wasn't really zoned, I was just concentrating. Really hard."

"Really? Man, you were so intense! I didn't think you even heard me most of the time."

Jim made a face. "Jimmy made a pee pee?"

Jim watched from Simon's office as Blair sat out at his desk talking to officer Wallace. Whatever Blair had said to her sent her away with a brilliant smile and a deep blush on her cheeks. Blair grinned evilly back at Jim when he looked up to catch him watching. Jim almost wished he had been listening to their conversation.

"...anyway, the review board cleared you to get back to work immediately. Ellison, are you even listening to me?" Simon snapped.

"Yes sir, The board cleared me." Jim turned back to his boss innocently.

"So get back to work," Simon snarled.

Jim smiled as he headed back to his desk. Truth be told, he had never stopped working in the two days since the shooting. "Hey, Chief, did you get her number?" he asked as he approached his still grinning partner.

"Better than that, we've got a date Friday night."

"I thought she thought you were gay."

"Not anymore. I set her straight." Blair tried but failed to wipe the grin off his face.

"Good. Good. Maybe that'll put an end to the rumor."

"Oh the rumor is still around," Blair informed him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Only now, it's you and Rafe..."    

The End

Disclaimer - Images, characters, and settings taken from various television shows are the property of their respective owners, producers, etc.  No copyright infringement intended, I'm just having a little fun.