Author's webpage: http://www.cybercomm.net/~rhiannon/sorka.html

 Disclaimers: The Sentinel belongs to Pet Fly, Paramount. and UPN, Highlander belongs to Rysher, and the X-Files belongs to Ten-Thirteen, and Fox. I'm not making any money off of this so please don't try to get any out of me. You get a cat and some pocket lint for your troubles. Any characters not from these three shows are mine. Please ask permission before using them.

Notes: This is the sequel to my gen stories The Inquisitor and Subtle Shifts. If you haven't read those two stories, I suggest that you read them and the other short stories in the series first. This story won't make much sense in places if you don't. You can find them by using the Othert Website link.

A thousand thank yous to Wolfling who betaed for me, and to all the people on IRC that let me tease them about this story.

Notes2: It's taken me a few months but i finally got the time to slash this monster of a story. If you read my gen version you'll want to read it again, there are a few new scenes thrown in to make it flow even better than before.

In the farthest corner of the solitary confinement wing of Washington state's toughest maximum security prison, a lone figure sat huddled in a corner of his cell. He was thin and pale, his gaunt features a testament to a lack of decent food. His dark blond hair had grown considerably during his incarceration and now hung limp and oily across his face, as he hadn't been able to wash it properly in over a month. A generous growth of facial hair added to the haggard appearance of the handsome former CIA agent Lee Brackett.

He glanced at the tray of food that sat just inside his cell door, only a few feet away. The intense chemical smell of drugs, probably sedatives, wafted over to him nearly overpowering the enticing smell of the food. This was the last in a series of attempts to get him to talk. Those that had put him here where probably losing patience with him. He couldn't blame them, but he wasn't willing to give them what they wanted.

When he had first been approached by the official looking government men soon after his trial, he had laughed off their questions of how he had breached the Skunk Works security. He told them to figure it out on their own, reasoning that if they wanted the truth so bad then he could bargain down his prison time or perhaps get moved to a less secure facility where he could easily escape from.

Lee shook his head at his own foolishness. He should have recognized the man with the Morley cigarets for what he was a part of the shadowy forces that had begun to spread it's influence into the very heart the US government, corrupting it. They were part of the reason that he had turned rogue. He had taken his oath to his country very seriously, but when one too many of the cases he had been on went bad with the blame falling squarely on his shoulders, he had decided that he needed to get out and disappear. To do that he needed money. What better way to do that then to sell the very secrets he had been protecting? The technology in the spy plane would have netted a fortune on the black market, and who better to help steal the stuff then someone with heightened senses that could make the defenses useless?

Again he marveled at his own stupidity. Sentinels were watchmen, protectors of their tribes. He should have realized that Ellison couldn't let him get away, not after threatening the entire city with a painful death. In truth, Lee had grown to respect him for that. No one else had ever beaten him in one of his games before.

That respect was why he didn't give the shadow government what they wanted. After the third refusal, they had given up asking and decided to use more forceful means. He had woken up in this dank cell one morning and hadn't seen a prison guard since. There was no natural light to be had here so the passage of time was a relative thing. He had stopped marking what he thought was the proper passage of time long ago. He was aware that a lot of time had passed.

Turning his mind back to the present, Lee made his way to the meal provided to him. His body was weakening from the lack of food and activity and even with the smell of the drugs his mouth watered. With a resigned sigh, he began to eat the food in front of him. At least he would have a decent meal before they did whatever it was they were planning.

He was not surprised when he woke to find himself strapped down to a metal table. He tugged at the restraints experimentally, even though he knew that it was a useless gesture. After months of only one small incandescent bulb as light, the harsh flourescent lights burned into his eyes.

The gray haired, leathery faced man that had first questioned him appeared next to the table. He smiled weakly up at him. "I guess you missed me." Lee's voice was rough from lack of use.

"We have been more that patient with you, Mr. Brackett. Given you plenty of time to tell us what we want to know voluntarily." He circled the table slowly. "But I'm tired of this little game. I will have the information from you now, willingly or not." He signaled to someone out of view, a man stepped forward, with a syringe in his hand. "Do it," he ordered.

The man inserted a the needle into Lee's arm dispassionately. Brackett couldn't help wincing as he watched the man depress the plunger injecting the clear fluid into his arm. At first there was nothing, then a burning began in his chest and worked its way though his body.

Two hours later, Lee's unconscious body was covered with sweat and trembling with exhaustion and pain. Blood dripped slowly from under the restraints on his wrists and ankles. Cancerman, stepped out of the room, his face tight with worry. He didn't take more than a few steps when a figure emerged from the observation room.

"You assured my people that they no longer existed," The Alien Bounty Hunter stated in a controlled but very angry voice. " This new information jeopardizes the entire project."

"It's just one man, what kind of threat could he be?"

"You who insist that Mulder be allowed live, dare to ask what one man can do?" the bounty hunter's voiced hissed with anger. "This is not just one man! You assured my people that there would be no more. If you can not find a reason for his appearance and that of his partner we will end our agreement with your governments. All the power you have gained by our technology will fade to nothing, and all that we have promised you will be so much dust."

"After all the work we have done, after everything we have accomplished. You're saying that one pair like them is enough to warrant an end to it all?" He grabbed the alien's arm as he turned to leave.

Looking down at the hand on his arm, the alien said, "This is but one of a dozen worlds we could have chosen. But you are the most like us, the easiest world for us to adapt to, yet this world is protected. If we are to colonize, we must eliminate that protection. You know this! Take care of this problem before the ship arrives or we will take matters into our own hands," he pulled effortlessly out of the old man's grasp.

Cancer Man stood staring after him, hands clenched at his sides, with the feeling that all the power he had held for so long was slipping through his fingers. The lab tech approached from behind him. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"Sir, the vitals on the subject are thready and dropping. I was wondering how you wished me to proceed?"

Barely glancing back he said, " He is of no further use. Get rid of him."

"Yes, Sir."

The crash of steel on steel rang through the dojo as the two men circled each other. No words were spoken, no need to provoke, no reason to waste the energy. This was a moment of pure physical expression where the mind and body moved in time to the beating of their hearts.

Sweat dripped down Johan Rafe's face, his breath coming in short gasps, and his arms felt like lead. He had only done this sword dance once before with his teacher; then he had lasted only a few minutes. Now he had no concept of how long he had been fighting. The object was not to hurt your opponent but to follow his movements until you wore him out. It was a test of skill.

Methos moved with the grace of a cat, his body flowing with the rhythm of the dance. There was such a beauty to the movements, even as a participant. He hadn't tried to teach anyone this form of fighting in centuries. But Rafe had proven such an eager student, so adaptable to the way of the blade, that he didn't even hesitate.

The young immortal had been training nonstop for almost a month. Normally there wouldn't be this much haste in training, but Rafe was a detective in the Cascade P.D., and he wanted to get back to work as soon as he could. Dedication to his job and a lust for life were the hallmarks of this man. That and an uncanny ability to pick up most of his lessons from his teacher made him a great student.

The dance was disrupted by the presence of another immortal coming into range. They were moving so quickly, that they couldn't just stop, they had to slow down, and pull away from each other. Once they were apart, the younger immortal dropped to his knees, exhausted.

Methos turned to face the intruder, stepping in front of his student, ready to defend him. He pulled in great gulps of air as he held his sword steady. He sighed in relief when recognized Duncan Macleod standing in the doorway.

"Macleod, I swear to all the gods, if I weren't so tired I'd take your head for showing up unannounced," he growled, lowering his sword but staying beside Rafe, who was still trying to catch his breath.

"Well this is my place, I don't normally have to call ahead you know," Duncan said not happy with his cold reception.

"What happen to Paris?" Methos asked.

"Amanda got into some trouble, as usual," he began, but Methos held up his hand.

"I'm sure it's all very fascinating, but right now I don't want to really know." He turned to Rafe. "You okay down there?"

"Oh yeah,... fine," Rafe gasped, finally able to talk. "Just don't expect me to walk any time soon."

"Adam, mind if I have a word with you for a second?" Duncan asked, glancing down at the young immortal with concern.

Methos nodded and the moved to the weapons rack, where he stowed his practice sword. It didn't have as nearly sharp an edge as the one he normally used, but it was well balanced and nearly identical. "What's wrong?"

"What the hell was that I saw you doing just now?" Duncan asked through a plastic smile.

"A sword dance, as well you know. Why do you want to know?"

"You've been training this guy for a month. He doesn't have the experience to be doing something like that," Macleod insisted, obviously appalled by Methos' apparent carelessness.

"He's a natural, Macleod," Methos countered with a genuine grin. "Something very rare in this century. Can I help it if he's been able to pick up everything I've taught him?"

"Well, don't get too attached to him. I've met a few of those in my time. The rumor of a natural gets out, it will kill him off before he gets the chance to live." Duncan's words were said with conviction and sadness.

"I have no intention on letting anyone know about him any time soon," Methos growled protectively. "Yes, he's going to be a target, but for now, his profession will protect him as much as his skill."

At Duncan's questioning look he continued, "He is a detective down in Cascade. Anyone goes after him and they'll have the entire police department after them."

"That's not how the Game is played, mortals can't interfere." Duncan's voice rose.

"True, but that doesn't mean that my friends won't take it upon themselves to avenge my death should any Immortal take my head," Rafe said from were he was standing a few feet away. "Sorry for eaves dropping, but you were talking about me."

Duncan scowled at him. "You don't get it do you? They'd all get killed if they tried something like that."

"I have no intention of getting killed," Rafe stated, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. "Or letting my partner or coworkers get hurt because of what I am. I love my job and the family I have as a cop is very important to me. Cops protect their own and if anything should happen, they wouldn't stop until they found the answers."

Methos smiled at his student's convictions. "Listen Johan, why don't you get cleaned up? I'll call in an order for pizza and we'll go upstairs and relax."

"No problem, I'll only be a few minutes," he agreed and headed to the gym showers.

Methos watched him go with an admiring smile.

Duncan glanced from one to the other. "I don't believe it," he muttered in exasperation.

Methos walked into the gym's office to place the order, swinging his legs casually up onto the desk when he sat in the chair. "You have a problem, Macleod?"

"Just a question," Duncan said slowly. "Are you sleeping with him?"

Methos' eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. "Yes and no. As his first teacher I know better than to get involved physically. But there's only one bed upstairs and that couch of yours isn't comfortable enough to sleep in night after night."

"That's a relief, I think," Duncan sighed. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt. I doubt he would welcome any advances anyway, since he is a cop."

"Don't be an ass, Duncan. I swear the more I get to know you, the more narrow minded and judgmental you seem to get."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You think just because he was raised in the late twentieth century, and happens to be a cop, he has to be homophobic."

"Well isn't he?" Duncan shot back heatedly, more angry at himself for making such a bad case of stereotyping.

"If he were, do you honestly think he would be sleeping upstairs with me?" Methos rolled his eyes.

"And?" Duncan asked expectantly.

A smile spread across the ancient immortal's face. "And let's just say that the rest is none of your business."

Duncan's reply was stopped by Methos picking up the phone and dialing the local pizza place. The Scotsman ran a hand across his face not really sure what he was going to say. With a shrug he went to the elevator and headed up to the second floor.

Dinner arrived a in about a half hour and the delivery guy received a healthy tip. Methos was sprawled over half the black leather couch, a beer in one hand and a slice of pizza with everything on it in the other. Everything except anchovies, anyway. Rafe was sitting rather stiffly on the other half eating his dinner, his eyes nervously glancing at Duncan every few minutes while they watched the Cascade Jaguars play the Seavouver Orcas.

"So, I understand that you two met during that big quake," Duncan said, sitting in the easy chair.

"Yeah." Rafe nodded to his teacher. "He walked right into a sting to catch some muggers and ended up getting attacked. I was the designated bait. It turned out for the best. I probably still wouldn't know what I am if he hadn't screwed the thing up."

"If I had known how dangerous that campus was, I'd have gone to the other colleges first to look for those Watcher texts," Methos said, he and his student exchanged a smile.

"So how long before you go back to Cascade?" Macleod asked feeling territorial, not at all comfortable with the evidence he had seen that these two had been sharing his large bed while he had been gone or the comfort that the two men had in each others company.

Rafe sighed heavily. "I promised my captain that I wouldn't be gone much longer than a month, so I guess my time off is nearly up."

"Actually, that reminds me." Methos stood and retrieved another beer from the fridge. "You need to get a sword, before you go home."

"There goes my budget for the year," Johan grumbled. They had gone to a local shop where the owner had some very nice, very expensive swords, to give the young man an idea of the choices he had, as each type of blade required a slightly different style of fighting depending on its weight, balance, and size. "Can't I just use the one I've been practicing with?"

"Sorry, those are strictly for practice. The blade while good never holds a decent edge for long. Besides, the last time I heard about an immortal using a sword of that type in combat, even though he won, he almost wished he hadn't. The quickening shattered the blade, he was a mess for a few days after that, trying to remove all the metal shards from his skin."

"Ouch, that must have hurt."

"Yes, I'm sure it did. Thankfully he didn't make the same mistake again." There was a long silence. Normally Rafe and Methos would sit and talk or go over to Joe's, but with Duncan there the atmosphere had shifted.

Rafe stood and as casually as possible began to gather his few things together. Methos didn't miss his actions and rolled his eyes. He stood and walked over to his student. "Going somewhere?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get a hotel room," he replied. "I'm sure Duncan is great guy and all, but this is his place. I don't need Jim's senses to tell he isn't too happy to see me taking up his space."

Methos ran a hand through his soft black hair. "Alright, if you really feel that way. I'll drive you to the hotel I usually stay at."

After Rafe had finished packing his things he went down stairs to wait for his teacher. Not that he couldn't defend himself, or that he didn't know his way around Seacouver by now, but Methos had wanted a private word with Duncan before they left.

"You can be such a pain in the ass. You know that, Macleod?"

"Well excuse me if I happen to want the use of my own home," he replied, stripping the bed and taking out clean sheets.

"Whatever, listen if Joe calls tell him I'm at the Sheridan Hotel. The front desk will know which room."

"Are you expecting him to?" Duncan asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes. We were discussing whether or not to assign a Watcher to Rafe. Anyone they assign could potentially end up in a very dangerous situation, especially if they tried to follow him during a stake out or while he went undercover. So I suggested that I keep an eye on him myself and send anything of importance to Joe. "

"What do you mean you'll keep an eye on him?" Duncan asked, not liking where this was going.

"Well I've hung around here for a bit longer than I'd normally stay anywhere," Methos said with a shrug. "You obviously don't need me hanging around. So, I'm going to see about enrolling in some classes down at Rainier U. They have an excellent physics department. I was thinking of trying my hand at quantum theory."

"Oh...," Duncan frowned and he suddenly felt the need to examine the cracks in the wall.

"Oh come on, Macleod. You've made it quite clear on several occasions that you aren't interested." There was a small hint of pain in Methos' soft voice. "I don't mind being just friends with you, but I won't let your mixed feelings about me interfere in my personal life."

"I just want to make sure you'll be alright," Duncan said quickly.

"I'll be fine. See you around," Methos smiled, turned and left.

Simon Banks stood in his office listening to his best detective, Jim Ellison, as he asked for something that was, at the moment, impossible. The request was short and to the point, as with everything Jim did. Unfortunately he was going to have to refuse.

"Listen Jim, if this was any other time I would gladly give you the time off. But we've got a shortage of manpower right now. I can't just let you go off, not when we have a federal witness coming in tomorrow, ten unsolved cases, and the Mayor planning to tour the station."

At the sudden hard, cold look that settled on Jim's features Simon continued, "Whatever you need to do will have to wait for your day off. After all, you did say you were a hundred percent."

"I understand, sir," Jim stated flatly. "If that's all I'll just get back to work." Not waiting for a reply he left the office and sat heavily at his desk.

Simon believed he had really made the best decision, but he had a feeling he was missing something. His suspicions were confirmed when Blair Sandburg, Jim's partner, sauntered into the bullpen several hours later. He watched as the best team in his department exchanged soft words. Then Blair's easy going posture abruptly changed, going rigid and the normally animated face set into a grimace.

About a hour later there was a sharp knock on Simon's door. He looked up from the report he was reading to see Blair entering the room with a determined look on his face. "You better have a good reason for coming in here, Sandburg," Simon said, trying to intimidate the younger man, not at all pleased to be interrupted.

Unfortunately for the captain, Blair was not in the mood. He closed the door with enough force to make Banks jump. "You tell me, Simon. Is your friendship with Jim Ellison important to you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Simon demanded.

Blair ignored the question and glanced at Jim's empty desk. "Jim is down at the morgue overseeing the necessary autopsy, to remove the bullets that killed the Chopek. While he is gone, you and I are going to have a little talk." His dark blue eyes glittered with determination.

"About what?"

"Jim won't tell you this, because that's just the way he is, but he needs the time off. Two days, that's all, then he won't have any problems."

"I can't do it. With Rafe on a leave of absence, Taylor down with a broken leg, and Donaldson on maternity leave, we just don't have the manpower." Simon shook his head, his mind was made up.

Blair bowed his head, thoughtfully and for just a moment Simon thought that was the end of it. Blair's dark curls hid his features until he raised his head and spoke again. "Jim has an obligation, a very important one. With the rest of the Chopek gone, he is the only person that knows the proper rituals to send the spirits of the dead to rest.

"Do you consider this request less important because the deceased wouldn't know the difference between a cell-phone and a pocket calculator?" His voice was a harsh whisper as he looked straight into the Captain's eyes.

Simon glared at him and rose to his feet. "I don't think I like what you are implying."

"Good, because I don't like implying it." Blair paced in front of the desk, his eyes never leaving those of the captain. "Do you have any idea how important Incacha was to him? Any idea?"

Simon slowly shook his head.

"He was a shaman of the Chopek, but for Jim he was more than that. Incacha saved his life after the helicopter crash in Peru. He guided Jim the way I do now. He was as close to family as it gets with Jim."

"Why didn't Jim tell me this himself, if Enchaca was so important?"

"Incacha, damn it!" Blair took in a deep breath to calm himself. "You know as well as I do that Jim doesn't like to talk about his past, especially Peru. This case has dredged up a whole lot of issues that he thought were well buried."

Simon rolled his eyes, "That's true enough. I didn't even know he had a brother until last spring, let alone what he did in that jungle."

"Exactly." Blair looked hard at Simon. "If that had been Danny Choi or Jack Pendergrast, would you be giving him a hard time about wanting the time off?"

"No," Simon admitted softly. He ran a large hand over his jaw, uncomfortable with his own narrow mindedness. "I'd be pushing him to take a day or two off."

"Then give him the two days we need to give Incacha and Mano a proper burial. Otherwise you may end up on that long list of people that Jim has shut out of his life," Blair said vehemently.

"I get the message, Sandburg. Tell Jim I want to talk to him as soon as he comes back. I'll put him on the detail escorting that witness, then he can have the next couple of days off."

"Thanks, Simon." Blair smiled brightly, then headed out of the office with an energetic step.

Blair had called in a dozen favors and owed a big one to Dan Wolf, the coroner, but he had managed to get permission to perform the ceremony on tribal land. There was no way they could have gotten permission to do it anywhere else.

The first day Jim and Blair had gathered enough wood to create a pyre large enough for the two bodies to lay across. Then they had kicked everyone out of the morgue to prepare the bodies in the traditional fashion. Blair knew most of the mechanics to the rituals, but Jim had explained the importance. It was an odd role reversal, since Jim knew what to do, yet it was Blair that had the mantel as a shaman, so he was the one that had to do certain things.

During the rites, it had been Sentinel and Shaman, Enqueri and his Guide, that had been present. Jim and Blair had to take a back seat. Thankfully it had been a warm night, as they stood in the light of the burning pyre. They were bare from the waist up. Enqueri had carefully decorated his guide's body with the markings of a shaman. They had been very similar to those of Incacha's but Jim had explained that they were changed to symbolize the passing of the old shaman's power. Enqueri's own markings were much simpler, yet carried as much weight. Again Jim explained that he had rarely worn his tribal markings except during important events, or when Incacha insisted.

For Blair the details of what they had done during the ritual were a bit sketchy. He had been nervous that he might mess up, or forget something but as soon as they stepped into the ring of torches that circled the pyre, he stepped into his role as though born to it. The words he had practiced rolled off his tongue as though he were a native. When they finally lit the dry wood, he knew they had done the Chopek justice.

They stood together in the light of the fire, letting the heat roll at them in waves. Blair felt a shudder run through his partner, and he turned to see tears streaming down Jim's stoic face.

He carefully pulled the larger man into a loose embrace, "It's okay man, you can let it out now." Jim resisted only for a second, but then he wrapped his arms around Blair holding on to him as though his life depended on it, taking the comfort that he desperately needed. Blair felt tears of his own flow for his friend. He could have said a hundred different things to try to ease Jim's pain, but deep inside he knew that this release is what they both needed.

After what seemed like hours, Jim looked back at the fire. His breath caught in his throat, a smile crossed his tear streamed face. "Blair, look."

Blair turned, blinking his eyes clear. His eyes widened in amazement as he too saw the panther, Jim's animal spirit, lounging before the fire, the bright gold eyes regarding them solemnly. Incacha and Mano appeared to either side of him; they smiled at Jim and Blair for a moment. Then the panther roared, loud enough to make the earth tremble, and the three apparitions faded from sight.

Blair looked up at Jim to let him know that he too had seen the spirits. Jim's smile deepened, and he hugged him again, knowing that he wasn't alone.

He floated in a sea of darkness, far away from the pain that had driven him from consciousness. The small part of his mind that still thought understood that he was dying. In a way he welcomed it, he was so tired. Tired of running, tired of the constant need to prove he was the best, tired of his lack of morality. He wanted to rest, but another part of him that held the small spark of honor that he had cultivated during his imprisonment refused to just give up. There was a twinge of regret as he realized that there was no one in the world that would mourn his passing.

// Is that so important to you?// a voice asked from far away.

Too startled not to answer he said, //Not really, but it would be nice to know that I might mean something to someone.//

//I can give you a chance at life. If you are willing to pay the price,// the voice offered. //But you must be strong enough to want to go back. Do you have a reason strong enough to fight the darkness and endure the pain?//

Lee Brackett thought for a long time, then he felt in his being the need to save the one man that had shown him that it wasn't the government that mattered, it was the people. Now Ellison and Sandburg were in danger because of him.

// If it's possible, I'll pay whatever price I have to,// he said in a determined voice.

//We will see,// replied the voice.

A great lupine howl echoed through the silence that followed, and a pin point of light pierced the darkness. In the distance he heard drums, but soon realized he was hearing his own heart beating. He turned towards the sound of his heart and started his journey back from death.

Two sets of eyes watched the soul as he made his way back to his body.

The panther turned to his companion. //Are you certain of your choice?//

//As sure as any can be in the moment of chaos,// the coyote spirit replied, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. //He has the knowledge. He will understand better than most what is at stake and his guide will be close at hand.//

//I must watch over my charges,// the panther said, looking off into the distance. //Their bonding is growing much stronger.//

//They will need that bonding, if they are to survive,// coyote replied.

The currents of energy around them shifted slightly. //The old ones have returned to the great village,// panther commented.

//The eldest and his student will help. They will aid the guardians to defend the Tribe,// coyote replied

//The Tribe must be protected. The Others must not succeed,// they said together, then separated to follow their chosen charges.

It was barely dawn on the east coast when the phone began to ring insistently. Mulder groaned his annoyance as he reached over to pick up the receiver. "Mulder," he said sleepily.

"Agent Fox Mulder?" a nervous voice asked.

"Yeah, that's me." Mulder yawned.

"Lee Brackett has disappeared. You may want to look into it."

"What are you talking about?" Mulder asked, suddenly more alert.

"I'd say more but I don't have time. Good bye, Agent Mulder." The phone clicked and the line went dead.

Mulder's mind raced as to what the call might mean as he placed the receiver down in its cradle.

"Who was that, Mulder?" a sleepy voice asked next to him.

Mulder rolled over to look at his bed mate. He couldn't help but smile at the vision that was his partner, Dana Scully. He kissed her lips softly, then pulled away with a deeply worried look. "That was some anonymous caller. He said Lee Brackett disappeared."

"Wait, isn't he...?" Dana's sleepy eyes widened.

"The CIA agent that knows about Ellison," Fox finished for her quickly. "Damn, we gotta see if this is true or not." He rolled out of bed, heading for the shower, Dana only a step behind.

Once they had finished showering, Mulder was on the phone again calling his favorite underground newspaper.

"Frohike, turn off the tape and listen. I need you to check on the records of a guy in federal prison out in Washington State named Lee Brackett. See if he is still listed as a prisoner." There was a long pause. "Great, call me as soon as you find anything. Thanks."

"What happens if there is something wrong? I doubt Skinner is going to let us just take off, you know," Dana asked concerned, but not wanting to run all the way to Cascade for nothing. They had deliberately doctored their reports on the serial murder case that had led them to learn of just how unique Detective Ellison was, in order to protect him.

"If that caller, whoever that was, knows about enough about Brackett to call us, chances are pretty good they know about his connection to Ellison." Fox moved to wrap his arms around her softly. "We know better than most what could happen to them if the people we are fighting learned about them. If there is even a chance we have to make sure they're okay. We've lost too many friends already."

Dana nodded, pulling out of his arms. "I still owe Blair for his kindness at the hospital. I'll call the airport and see if there is a flight to Cascade tonight."

Less than an hour later, Mulder's cell-phone rang. "Mulder."

"Okay, this is what we've got," Byers said over the line.

"Go ahead," Mulder said, motioning to Scully.

"Six months ago Brackett was removed from his cell, on orders. The records say it was a medical quarantine, that was the last recorded sighting by anyone at the prison. Last week one of our informants saw a gurney being loaded into a black, unmarked van. After that all records of Brackett's incarceration vanished. I doubt anyone would have even noticed for months if you hadn't asked."

"Good work, call us if you find anything else," Mulder said. "We'll be heading out in a few minutes."

"Where are you headed?" Byers asked.

"Washington, talk to you later." Mulder shut off his cell, and followed Scully out the door.

Jim and Blair walked into the sparsely occupied Blues club, located in a nice section of Seacouver. It was finally the weekend, both were exhausted from having put in a ton of overtime to solve several cases, and they finally cleared enough of the backlog to feel no guilt about taking off for the party they had been looking forward to.

Blair watched as Jim stretched his back trying to get the kinks out of it from having to ride in the Volvo for the past week. Both it and the rental that the insurance agency had provided had very little leg room. It was going to take some time to sort the mess out. Blair had hoped that the blue Expedition could have been saved, but it looked like it was a total loss. They had taken the rental for this trip, mostly because it had better fuel mileage.

They approached the bar together, Jim's hand on Blair's shoulder. The bartender smiled at them. "Hi there, what can I get you?"

"Two beers," Blair said. "As long as they don't have a lot of sulfites or preservatives in them."

"I got just the thing." He moved to pour two beers out of one of the taps. "I get this stuff from a local micro-brew company. It seems to be all the rage now. By the way, my name is Joe."

"I'm Blair and this is Jim." Blair pointed to his partner. Joe smiled and shook their hands after setting down the drinks, then casually wiped down the bar.

"We're looking for a few friends of ours that invited us here tonight," Jim said with a casual smile, having noticed the blue Watcher tatoo on Joe's wrist. "Adam Pierson said that you have the best blues in the state."

Joe's head shot up at the mention of Methos' cover name. "So you've known Adam for a while?"

"Only met him last month," Jim sipped the beer experimentally, then smiled in appreciation. "This is nice. I gotta get some of this for home, Chief."

"I'll make a note of that," Blair smiled, taking a drink from his mug. "It's a pain trying to find brands you can drink without complaint."

"You never drank the commercial stuff anyway, so I don't know why you get so testy about it."

Blair tapped the bar top thoughtfully and lowering his voice so that only Jim could hear him, he said, "I wouldn't have gotten testy last time if you had just said you didn't like the stuff, instead of trying to ignore the fact, and taking out you frustration out on the poor waitress."

Jim grimaced at his partner, but said nothing. He had been having a bad day and had just wanted a beer. He had been unable to filter out the extremely bitter taste of the brew and lost his temper. After Blair had calmed him down he had left a generous tip for the woman.

"Last month," Joe mumbled thoughtfully. "Hey, you didn't meet Adam during that quake, did you?"

"Give the man a cigar," Jim toasted him. "You're lucky I didn't bust him for stealing that book from the University."

"Why didn't you?" Joe asked cautiously.

"The book wasn't that important. Besides it's not like anyone there was ever going to have a use for it." Jim took a long drink from his beer. "Sandburg is the academic of this team, if he wasn't upset by it, then I'm not going to argue about a stupid book."

"I'd thought he'd gotten away clean," Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "He must be out of practice."

"Nah, he just can't hide things from a detective as good as Jim," Blair said with a look of admiration.

"Then you must be very good," Joe commented.

"The best," Blair affirmed.

Jim titled his head when he heard a vehicle pull into a space outside. He smiled when he recognized the voices of the men heading to the door. "Joe, would you mind pouring two more beers? Our friends just arrived."

Joe gave him a startled look, but did as he was asked. A minute later he was amazed when Methos and Rafe came through the door. Jim smiled innocently at the Watcher, while Blair rolled his eyes.

"Jim! Blair! Glad you two could make it." Johan smiled striding up to them and shaking first Blair's then Jim's hands.

Jim held on to his hand and turned it over to examine the palm. "Your gonna have to go back to the firing range before I let Simon give you the green light," he said seriously. "All your calluses have changed. You'll need to get used to the difference."

"Before you let Simon?" Rafe smiled incredulously. "Since when did you tell him what to do?"

"Since he knows better than to argue with my instincts," Jim replied with a knowing smile.

"Well, how have things been going down in Cascade anyway?" Methos asked.

"Oh same old, same old," Blair said casually. "Just you average murderers, maniacs, and corrupt officials."

"Yep, nothing ever changes in Cascade," Jim agreed, taking another long swallow fro his beer.

"Uh huh," Rafe commented. "Which means these two probably saved the city from total destruction."

"Nope sorry," Blair seriously. "Did that last winter."

"You two need to fill me in on what's going on," Rafe cajoled.

"Like what?" Jim asked.

"Like where is that truck of yours. I didn't see it outside, and that parking area isn't all that big."

Jim grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck in a self conscious way. "It got totaled."

"It what?" Rafe's eyes widened in disbelief. Methos and Joe listened to the conversation with interest; it wasn't often you got to see cops in Joe's bar exchanging stories.

"Aw, man. It was terrible," Blair explained. "The thing rolled on its side and smashed into a store front. A complete and total mess. Almost as much damage to it as the Corvair had." He place a hand on Jim's shoulder to comfort him for the other loss that had occurred at the same time.

"Jim, that thing was brand new," Johan said sympathetically. "Between the two of you that's got to be three cars in the past two years."

"Four, actually." Jim coughed into his hand.

"What was that?" Blair asked with interest.

"Four cars," Jim repeated with a hint of embarrassment.

Blair shook his head in confusion. "I count three. The F-150, when is got rammed by the semi. The Corvair, when Alec stole it to get away from that thug, and the Expedition when Yeager tried to use it to escape. What was number four?"

"When you where in the hospital, during the Golden case. I ended up trashing Simon's Taurus trying to stop the ringleader from getting away. I caught him, that's what counts." Jim signaled Joe for another beer and prayed that Blair would let it go. Unfortunately for him Blair didn't.

Blair grabbed his arm and spun him around to glare into his sentinel's face. "Wait, just a second. You went tearing off, in a car, on your own, in that condition?" His voice began to rise with each word, demonstrating to all within hearing range just how upset he was. Jim didn't want to meet his eyes just then, knowing what he would see, but felt he had to justify what he had done. Blue met blue and the rest of the world faded out.

"My god, Jim. What were you thinking?" Blair asked appalled. "Don't you realize you could have been killed?"

"I wasn't thinking about me. All I could think about was hearing your terrified voice on the top of that patrol car, half out of your mind from that drug. They attacked us in the one place you should have been safe." Jim reached out to hold Blair's arm lightly. "Then you had to be hooked up to that respirator 'cause your body shut down. There was nothing I could do to help you. You know I hate being out of control. I had to do something. If I hadn't been sitting in Simon's car the leader would have gotten away. Thinking back now I know it was stupid, I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you while I was gone." He paused, trying to show the emotions that he normally kept in check.

Blair was hit by an image of himself laying in the hospital, IV tubes in his arms, and a respirator helping him breathe. The image was obscured by a golden hue. His own memories of his recovery began when he had
awoken from the drug induced coma a day after the bust to learn that it was all over and that Jim's sight had begun to return. He had been so relieved that he had never bothered to ask how the bust had gone down.

Blair's anger vanished and understanding filled his heart. He covered Jim's hand with his own. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Jim smiled softly, "I know."

There was more in his eyes, something unspoken that neither of them were sure they wanted to acknowledge. A deep seated need for each other that, while frightening, was not unwelcome. It was more than the Sentinel/Guide connection they seemed to have. It was an affection that went soul deep.

The two men became aware of their surroundings and the complete lack of conversation. Reluctantly they broke eye contact and looked around. They couldn't help but notice the three men staring at them.

"What's wrong with you three?" Jim asked gruffly.

"Yeah, can't you see we're having a private conversation?" Blair grumbled in agreement.

"Um, the last time I checked, conversations required one or more people talking," Joe said scratching his head in confusion. "Neither of you have said a word for the past five minutes."

"What are you talking about?" Blair asked.

"One minute you were trying wring information out Ellison, the next the two of you are just staring at each other," Rafe explained in exasperation.

Jim and Blair looked at them like they were completely nuts. "Riiiight." Jim tried to humor him.

Methos looked at the two men and smiled knowingly, but didn't say a word. This was not the place to speak of these things, and normally it wouldn't be his place at all. But he planned to sit them down for a long talk, as soon as they all got back to Cascade.

"Well," Methos clapped his hands together. "Now that this is out of the way. Time for Johan to get what's coming to him." He turned to Joe, holding out his hands to receive something. Joe smiled slyly, then reached under the bar to retrieve a long wooden case.

"Johan, as is traditional, the first teacher always give his students their first sword," Methos said with a smile. "As you know, I tend not to keep the weapons that belonged to my opponents. They didn't do them any good so what use are they going to be to me."

Joe chuckled, "There's logic for you."

Methos ignored the Watcher. "I found this in a private antique collection many years ago, and thought it was the best made blade of it's type that I had scene in centuries." He lifted open the case to show it to his student. "As I already have a sword, and a very nice one at that. I kept it in a safe place were no one could find it. I think the original owner would be pleased that a swordsman of your skill would have use for it."

Rafe reached into the box to retrieve the weapon. "It's beautiful," he breathed. The black handled long sword was perfectly balanced, the handle rested in his hand like it was an extension of his body. "Thank you. Does this mean your not my teacher anymore?"

"Well, there are tons of things I can still teach you, but you know enough to be able to hold your own against most of the immortals you might encounter." Methos smiled brightly. "Just take care of her. That sword has quite a bit of history to it."

"What kind of history?" Rafe asked still examining the blade.

"This sword was part of a collection that had been owned by Oliver Cromwell. He stole this sword from the tomb of Edward, the Black Prince of Wales many years ago. The sword was never seen since. I bought it after Cromwell's death, the executor of the estate had no idea what it was. You'll need to practice with it to get used to the difference in balance from your practice blade, but they are quite similar in weight."

"So this is a graduation of sorts?" Blair asked, fascinated.

Methos grinned at the anthropologist. "Yep, time for the student to step out of the classroom."

"Good, then he can get his butt back to work and help with this backlog of cases," Jim said.

"Backlog?" Johan asked nervously. "How big of a backlog?"

"You'll see when you get back there," Blair sounded aggrieved.

"You sure I can't stay here a few more weeks?" Rafe asked Methos hopefully. His hand coming to rest on Methos arm.

"Nope sorry," Methos smiled at his distress. "But I'll be there to help if you need me." He covered the younger immortal's hand with his own giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jim leaned over, breaking into the sudden intimacy. "Try to get out of coming back after all the extra hours me and Sandburg have put in lately and I'll take make sure it takes you a long time to come back from the dead."

Methos ached an eyebrow. "Your Ranger training I take it?"

Jim put a finger to his lips. "Covert Ops."

"I'll have to remember that." Methos smiled.

The car was oddly silent on the drive back to Cascade. Every few minutes Blair would glance over at his partner with a growing sense of frustration. Jim had a distant, thoughtful look to his face every time their eyes met.

"Jim, listen, we have to talk about this," Blair said finally.

"About what?" Jim glanced over at him, his jaw clenched with tension.

Blair rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. "About what happened in the bar." He reached over, placing his hand on Jim's shoulder. There was a tangible feeling of connectedness that passed between them.

Jim visibly flinched at the touch. "You want to talk about that?" he snapped. "I don't even know what that is."

Blair sighed, "I think I might."

"Okay, genius, what is it then," Jim fought for control of his temper, knowing that he had been frightened by this new development.

"Promise that you'll hear me out on this, cause its going to sound awful weird."

"This is already way beyond weird, Chief."

Blair gave him a hard look and Jim subsided. "During the quake, last month, when I had you focus on me. Something happened to me. I saw the panther."

Jim eyes widened. "You saw Shadow and you didn't tell me?"

"We were a little busy at the time, man," Blair said defensively, but amused by the nickname. "Afterward I was never able to find the time to sit down and tell you. Anyway, he said something then that didn't make much sense, but now it's starting to become more clear."

"What did he say?"

"Shadow said that we were bonding. He mentioned new levels of awareness that are the natural progression of that bond. I had no idea that he meant anything like this." His voice shook slightly with tension.

"So how do we deal with this?" Jim asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

"The same way we've dealt with everything else. One step at a time." Jim looked over at his guide, a small smile crept over his face. He was relieved that Blair was taking this all in stride. They would find a way to deal with it, they always did.

The first thing Lee was conscious of was a parched throat. He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt like sandpaper. He soon realized that his whole body hurt. He could almost swear that even his fingernails and hair hurt. The next thing he was aware of was the feel of soft fur under him, covering him, keeping him warm.

He moved his head slowly, turning toward the sound of someone breathing. He knew he should be worried, he had just spent the worst time of his life strapped to a table. But for some reason he felt safe here, where ever he was.

He felt the air around him move, and a soft hand touched his forehead brushing away the hair that he had not realized was covering is face. A damp cloth was placed against his lips, allowing him to sooth his thirst. The moisture almost burned as it traveled down his throat. The cloth then wiped his face, he leaned into the touch, even though the cloth seemed rough on his skin.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," said a voice as soft as the hands that touched him. "Grandfather said you would wake up soon." Lee tried to speak, but his voice didn't seem to want to work. Thin fingers covered his lips. "Don't try to talk. You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you."

The sound of a door opening nearby was accompanied by a flash of bright light that seemed to sear right through his eyelids. He gasped, cringing away from the sudden source of pain.

"Barry, I told you to stay out of here!" The voice was that of a woman, he could tell that now. She was obviously angry at the intrusion, but she kept her voice low.

"Come on, Jenna. I just wanted to see the mystery guest." This voice was much louder, harsh on his ears. Lee moaned his distress, flinching away from the sound.

"Get out of here," Jenna ordered. "Before I have grandfather tan your hide like he did when you were ten." The door shut quickly, the bang that accompanied it made Lee's whole body jerk in protest. Jenna knelt down next to the pallet that he was laying on, her hands brushed against his skin in soothing motions. "I'm sorry about that, Barry doesn't believe in the legends anymore. He doesn't understand that you're really sensitive from the transition. Try to get some more sleep. I'll bring you some broth to eat when you wake up."

When Lee woke again, he was feeling over heated. He sat up slowly, pulling off several layers of wool blankets until all that remained was the fur wrap. There was a cup of water next to his bed, he drank the cool liquid slowly, savoring the feel as it ran down his throat. It wasn't until he finished off the cup that he realized that his body didn't hurt him like it had. Yes, he was sore, but nothing like it had been.

He looked around the room examining its contents. It was a small room with a chair set next to the door. There didn't appear to be any windows, and the floor was covered with a thick matting. There was single lit candle in the corner of the room, sitting on a table. To his surprise Lee realized that it was the only light source.

There was no way he should be able to see the room with as much detail as he could, no way he should know that he was laying on a futon covered with a bear skin, or that the woman that had been his caretaker was approaching his room along with someone else.

The door opened quietly, Lee winced as light flooded the room. He blinked quickly as his eyes adjusted. Jenna was a tall thin framed woman with angular features and long black hair that was pulled into a pony tail. The old man with her had a craggy face and a shock of white that was in contrast with rest of his black hair, he seemed in good shape. Lee couldn't seem to determine his age.

"See, I told you he would be fine," the old man said with a smile.

"I know Grandfather," Jenna replied. "I was just worried."

"Where am I?" Lee asked, rubbing his eyes.

"You're on the Yakima Reservation. You've been here about a week," Grandfather told him.

"How did I...?"

"We found you on the boarder that runs between our land and a secret government research facility," he continued, sitting down on the chair. "You're the only victim of their work that we ever found alive."

"I've got to get out of here. Your not safe with me here." He tried to stand but he noticed that he didn't have any clothes. "Um, could you help me out here, I seem to be naked."

The old man laughed softly at his distress. "Don't worry about those men looking for you. Anything they dump out at the boarder is usually dead already."

"Why are you helping me?" Lee asked. "How do you know I'm not some psychopath?"

He regarded Lee with serious eyes. " I don't know who you were, but the spirits have chosen to give you a great gift. You were given a second chance and brought to us for a reason. I've lived too long and seen too much not to know when the spirits are at work."

The memory of the voice as he floated in the darkness teased him. Lee shook his head trying to remember what had been said. He focused on a small crack in the wall -- suddenly it was as if he was inches away from it. Seeing the crack in all its detail.

A hand touched his shoulder, helped him to break away from the image. "Easy Lee, don't focus too hard," Jenna spoke softly.

Lee covered his face with his hands. "I think I'm losing my mind."

"No your not," Grandfather said. "The powers you have been given are difficult to control. You'll need a partner to guide you."

Lee's head shot up to look at the old man. "What are you talking about?"

"It's been a while since I've seen a Sentinel. But there is no mistaking that's what you are," he smiled sadly.

The only thing that kept Brackett from laughing was the serious look in the old man's eyes. Jenna squeezed his shoulder. "I know this is a lot to take in. Don't worry I'll be there to help you."

Lee looked at her hard. "What makes you think I'd let you guide me? I work alone, simple as that."

Jenna gave him a hard look. "And what happens if you fade out like you just did? The last time I checked you needed a guide to get back from something like that. If you think I'm going ignore my calling because you say so. You can just forget it."

There was a moment when they locked eyes, a short battle of wills ensued, then with a sigh Lee said, "Okay, you can be my guide. Teach me how to control this mess. But one condition, you have to do as I say."

"That cuts both ways, Lee," she reminded him. "You have to do as I say when it comes to your senses."

"Okay," Lee conceded.

"Great. Now the first order of business, is to get you cleaned up." Jenna grimaced. "'Cause, you are getting just a little ripe."

Charlie Spring did a quick survey of the studio's atmosphere. He had been a bit leery of doing a talk show, having had a few bad experiences over the years. But his publisher insisted that the best way to promote the book would be to take it to the masses that fastest way possible.

The psychic reminded himself that Oprah was a far more respected and a much more responsible host than many of the others out there. He had been getting plenty of offers over the past few months for public appearances or for assistance on unsolved cases. After the year long drought his career had suffered from the phony psychic hot-line using his name without his permission, he was grateful to see money coming in. His new book was selling very well, having already spent two months on the best sellers list. Things were really looking up for him.

He heard his name announced and walked onto the stage. He smiled and waved at the cheering crowd as he made his way to his seat. Oprah Winfrey stood as he approached and shook his hand warmly. Even as she towered over him, he could tell she was eager to start the interview.

"Welcome to the show, Mr. Spring," she said, motioning for him to take a seat.

"Thank you, Oprah. It's great to be here," he said with a smile.

"I've had the chance to read a few books over the years and I must say that your kind of talent has always intrigued me." She smiled at him.

He looked at her, titled his head to the side. "It also frightens you a bit, doesn't it?"

Oprah's eyes widened a fraction in surprise. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, actually, but it is a normal reaction to something that you don't understand," he reassured her.

"Well, I'd like to think I'm pretty open minded about most things." She changed tactics quickly. " So, I understand your new book 'Doubting Thomas' is selling very well."

Charlie shifted his in his seat. "Yes, it's had a good run so far."

"I understand that just before the book was released, you helped locate a little girl that had been kidnaped." There was a round of applause from the audience at that.

The short stocky man rolled his eyes in dismay. "That case was definitely not my finest hour," he admitted candidly.

"Why, what happened?" the talk show host asked.

"Without going into any details of the case, because it's still pending, I really screwed up there. After so long being dead on about so many different things, I started believing in my own press. I really thought that I was infallible. My overconfidence nearly cost that little girl her life. If not for a kick in the pants that I got from someone involved in the
investigation I never would have found her." There was a murmur of general disapproval from the audience.

He turned to them with look of open honesty. "I understand your anger, you have every right to disapprove of my actions. I was wrong, and I learned my lesson in spades. Just let me say something, if you ever go to a psychic and they give you a line about always being right, don't trust them. Take your money elsewhere. No one, not even the best of us is perfect. Anyone that says they are is heading for a big fall."

The interview continued for several more minutes until a commercial break. They then had a question and answer session with the audience. They ranged from questions about his book to the origins of his powers, as well as some bizarre requests to read different people.

During this time he felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck. He tried to ignore it, but it persisted. Just as they were breaking for the next set of commercials he felt a strangely familiar force grab his mind and pull him away from the outside world. He found himself standing in a jungle clearing, a large panther was staring at him

//Oh boy,// he moaned to himself. //Here we go again.//

//Time to pay the debt you owe, little spirit,// the panther growled. //Return to Cascade, you will know what you must do when you arrive.//

//Now? But I'm in the middle of an interview.//

//Now,// the tone allowed no room for argument. //Watch for the coyote he will show the way.// The voice and the jungle faded , until Charlie found himself back in the studio, facing a rather concerned host.

"Are you alright Charlie?" she asked. "You kind of faded out on us."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he smiled nervously. "Um, sorry to have to do this, but I have to go. I had a great time, and I hope you'll let me come back some day." He stood quickly, pulling off his mike and headed for the nearest exit.

"What?" Oprah stared at him as he retreated. She came to her senses a moment later, sprang to her feet and took off after him. "Wait, Mr. Spring. Charlie. We still have fifteen minutes until the show is over. You can't just up and leave."

"Ms. Winfrey, if I had a choice in this I would have gladly stayed, but some things are more important than others." He hit the exit at almost a dead run, hailing a cab as it drove by. He climbed into the back. Taking a deep breath he said, "Take me to the airport."

The cabby took off down the street leaving a very confused and angry talk show host in his wake. Charlie looked back for a moment and sighed, "Well there goes my promotional tour." He leaned back into the seat, and was glad his cell phone was in the dressing room at the studio. He knew he'd get an earful and hoped the good sales would allow him to afford the lawsuits he could just feel coming.

True to his word, Methos had moved down to live with Rafe in his apartment. Ostensibly to keep an eye on his former student and to further his own education. The real reason was a bit more complicated.

During their stay together at the dojo, Rafe had found himself attracted the older man. He hadn't expected it, and had tried to hide it, but the five thousand year old man had seen the signs. They made an agreement that neither of them would pursue the other while in Seacouver. But now they were in Cascade, and all bets were off.

Johan was awoken the first morning back home by the delightful sensation warm lips kissing a trail down his back. He sighed in delight when the warm touch reached the base of his spine.

"Good morning, Love," Methos whispered. "I've been dreaming of doing this to you for weeks."

Rafe sighed again as those soft lips traveled back up his spine to kiss his shoulders. He rolled over to face the older man, and kissed him deeply. "God that feels good."

"I'm just getting started," Methos smiled. He lowered his head to take Johan's right nipple in his mouth.

"I hope I can survive you." Johan gasped though the pleasure he was feeling.

"If you don't I'll just wait till you come back, and I'll start all over again." That was the last coherent words spoken for quite some time.

"So how do I look?" Johan asked him as he came out of his bedroom ready for his first day back at work.

Methos stood up to get a good view of the handsome man. "Good enough to eat," he said as he approached. "You take care of yourself out there."

"I'm always careful," Rafe smiled and stole a kiss from his lover. "Meet me at the station for lunch?"

"It's a date." Methos grinned. "Now get going before I forget you have to work, drag you back to bed and ravish you into submission."

"You are evil, Love." Rafe said roughly, reluctantly heading out the door.

The backlog of cases that had been hanging over the heads of the members of Major Crime was quickly brought down to a reasonable level when Rafe got back to work. Most of the cases were cut and dry, but with so many people out of the picture things just seemed to pile up.

Henry Brown took his partner to dinner after work to grill him on what he had been doing all that time. It was a small establishment situated only a block away from Ellison's loft apartment building "Hey, man. You look good," he said sizing him up. " I haven't seeing you in that good a shape since you went on vacation to Hawaii. What have you been up to? It's been a week, you promised to tell me the whole truth when you came back."

Johan rolled his eyes. "Yes, I did promise and I will tell you all about it." He bit into his burger, chewing thoughtfully on how he was going to tell his partner the truth. He had been avoiding this so far and he had been doing it rather well. He glanced out the window and was surprised to see several utility vans drive past.

The sound of gun shots and screeching tires cut off his next sentence as a familiar rental car went tearing down the street past them. Both detectives ran outside to investigate. They were horrified to see the rental car plow into the side of a delivery truck and explode on impact.

Both men stood stunned for a second, unable to believe what they had just seen. Rafe turned to see one of the vans turning the corner far down in the other direction. Brown ran to the burning wreckage; he shielded his face from the intense heat, trying to see if there was any chance that the occupants might have gotten out. He called it in, knowing even as he did so that whoever had been in the car was long past being helped. Rafe ran up to stand next to him, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The driver of the truck had been able to get out. He was standing at the side of the road shaking like a leaf. Brown approached him pulling out his badge. "I'm Detective Brown, can you tell me what just happened?"

"I was just backing into the loading area when that car came out of no where," he explained, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why did it blow up like that? There's nothing but paper products in that box. I swear."

"It's alright, sir. This is obviously not your fault," Brown said, trying to calm the man. "The main thing is that you are okay. You didn't happen to see who was driving did you?"

"No man, I was to busy trying to get out of the way, all I could see was the headlights."

"Thank you, why don't you go see the paramedics, let them check you out?"

Simon arrived at the scene soon after the fire trucks. "Brown, Rafe, have you been able to tell what happened yet?"

Brown shook his head. "All accounts say that the first thing they heard were shots being fired, then Ellison's rental car took off at high speed, ramming into the side of that truck. The car exploded on impact."

Rafe came over at a trot. "Sir, I just checked Ellison's apartment, there's no sign of either him or Sandburg."

The three men looked at the still burning car with a mixture of horror and denial. None of them wanted to voice the possibility that they were facing. It was too soon to tell, but they couldn't help but think that the two men they all respected could be so suddenly taken from them.

The fire chief walked over to where they stood, pulling off his hat. "The fire should be under control in a few more minutes. It looks like we've got two victims," he said. "Sorry Captain Banks. No way either of them could have survived that fire. I just hope they were dead from the crash."

"Thanks, Chief Conner," Simon said softly. They stood there watching the medical examiner remove the bodies from the car. It was a very unpleasant task at the best of times, made even more so by the knowledge of who the victims were.

"What would have made them take off like that?" Brown asked. "Jim's one of the best drivers on the force."

"Maybe some one was after them," Rafe suggested quietly.

"Damn." Simon bit the end of his cigar. "Come on, were gonna check out Ellison's place for clues. I want answers."

When Jim walked into the loft after work, only a step behind his partner, he knew something was wrong. He halted just inside the door, slowly dropping his keys in the basket on the small table. He took a long hard look around trying to identify the problem.

Blair noticed his hesitation. "What's wrong, Jim?"

"There's something... different in the loft," Jim said, turning in a circle as he walked into the living room.

"What do you mean? Are you picking something up with your senses?" Blair asked glancing around, but not seeing a problem. "Isolate it, try to identify it."

Jim closed his eyes in concentration. They flew open again almost immediately widening with an emotion he rarely showed. Fear.

When the young man opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Jim clamped his hand down over his mouth. With the two of them in close physical contact, Jim tried to convey his thoughts to Blair. Something deep inside, the part that he had identified as the connection between himself and his guide, opened more than it had ever been. //Blair we're in trouble. We've been bugged.//

The startled look Blair gave him from being able to hear those words was replaced with the terror of the implication of what those bugs meant. //What do we do?// he instinctually thought back.

//Grab your bag and head for the door. I'll be right behind you. Keep talking like nothing has happened.// Jim released his hold, motioning the younger man to get moving.

"So are you picking up anything?" Blair asked, moving quickly as possible, trying to talk without showing the fear he felt in his voice.

Jim nodded his approval. "Nah, I think one of the neighbors got one of those electronic insect repellents." He quickly grabbed the emergency bags from under the stairs.

"Well, I'm all for anything that doesn't harm the environment but its a big waste of electricity if it doesn't work." Blair grabbed his laptop, then almost as an afterthought grabbed a small carved statue of a panther that was sitting on his book shelf and placed it on top of the video cabinet.

"I hear that," Jim said, amazed at his partner's ability to stay calm. They headed for the door taking a long moment to look at their home for what could be the last time.

When they hit the street, Jim saw laser sights tag him and Blair in the chest, from opposite angels. He pulled out his pistol and fired at the sources with two accurate shots. He registered two pained grunts as the snipers targeting then went down. A puff of air caught his attention; a moment later Blair gasped, clutching is arm. Jim turned to see a dart sticking out from Blair's jacket, as he too felt a sharp pain strike him at the back of his neck. Blair fell against his car, his eyes rolled back into his head. Jim reached for him fighting off the dizziness that washed over him. He pulled Blair into his arms as another dart whizzed past him. He struggled to his feet carrying his partner, only to feel two darts impact with his shoulder and lower back. Jim landed hard on his knees as he felt the world grow dim. The last thing he saw was a utility van rolling to a stop next to where they fell.

Simon stood in the middle of the pristine loft trying to decide where to start. There was no evidence to suggest a struggle. The only things that seemed out of place was the slightly disorganized pile of camping gear.

"What's wrong with this picture?" he asked out loud.

"I don't know," Brown shrugged helplessly. "None of us have ever been here enough times to figure out what could be out of place."

Simon sighed helplessly, glancing around trying to see what was out of place. He thought back to something Jim had said a few months ago:

"I just think you should have someone with you who can back you up. Someone with the proper training," Banks was saying. "Sure Sandburg helps you but..."

"But he's not a cop, right?" Ellison's jaw clenched with irritation. "I know he's not trained. We've been over this ground before, and my answer is still the same. I need him as my partner."

Simon was about to reply but Jim cut him off. "Look Simon, these Sentinel abilities don't come with an instruction manual. I'd be dead five times over if not for him. Hell, without his help I'd have never found out what was up with my senses in the first place."

"But you're in control now. Why do you still need him?" Simon asked.

"I'm only in control because he's there to help me." Jim tried to articulate the way Blair's presence helped him, but he failed. So he decided to switch gears. "If you made me take on a partner from within the department, I risk revealing what I can do. I trust you not say anything, but you know what the rumor mill is like around here." He waved his hand toward the other room. "One slip to the wrong person and half the building will know in an hour. Within a week I'll be dragged off in the night to be some government agency's newest lab rat."

Simon had been reaching for his coffee pot, Jim's words stopped him cold. He stared at him in disbelief. "You don't really think that could happen, do you?"

Ellison held his gaze. "I have nightmares about it. I half expected to disappear after the Brackett case."

"But you're a police officer," Simon said, his voice colored with disbelief, "a public figure. Hell, you where on the cover of Newsweek."

The detective shook his head. "All they would have to do is fake my death well enough to fool you until they got me into one of those secret Black Project bases. You'd never be able to find me."

"Why haven't you said something about this before?" Banks demanded.

"It's not something that's easy to talk about. Besides they'd kill anyone that got in their way if it ever happened."

"Does Sandburg know about this?" His eyes resting on the young man at Jim's desk.

Jim nodded, "We discussed it after the Brackett case."

"And he's still here? I wondered why he got all paranoid when Colonel Oliver's men grabbed you," Simon said thinking back to Blair's first frantic call, and his own initial reaction. "Alright, you made your point. Now, get out of here." Jim left without another word.

Simon hung his head at the memory, this whole scenario sounded too much like the kind of thing Jim had been talking about. He hoped in a way that Jim and Blair were dead. If they were in the hands of some government agency, there was very little that he or his men could do.

He walked over to the long windows that led to the balcony. The moonlight bathed the city in a silvery glow. He glanced around one last time trying to find something that might be a clue. A small black panther figurine caught his eye from where it sat on the video cabinet. Jim normally decorated with birds, not cats. On a hunch he opened the cabinet and looked around at the selections. In with the eclectic collection of movies was one that was out of order and upside down. The title of the movie was 'Panther', Simon pulled it out and looked it over. The case had no tape in it. He stood and moved over to the kitchen table.

"I think I've got something," Simon said.

"I think I've got something too," Brown said coming to stand next to his captain.

Rafe exited the bathroom, having come up empty in there and in Blair's room."What did you both find?" he asked

"Brown?" Simon said, indicating he should go first.

"There is evidence that the phones and the duct work have been tampered with. Possibly to remove bugs and wire taps," Brown said. "Looks like it was done real fast."

"I found this in the cabinet," Simon said. He grabbed a knife from the utensil draw, prying the edge of the case open. It came apart easily to reveal a key taped to one side and a note. He carefully unfolded it.

"Cascade National Bank #42."

"What do you think it is?" Brown asked.

"I have a feeling I know," Simon said softly.

Lee sat on the edge of the porch of the small cabin. It was the home of Jenna Two-Feathers and her grandfather David, whom everyone called Grandfather. The cabin was separated from the rest of the community by the Toppenish river, they had a beautiful view of Deer Butte and Satus Peak. It was the most peaceful place he had ever been. Of course being able to see an eagle up close from a half mile way gave a whole new meaning to 'taking in the view'.

The isolation had given them plenty of time to work on his senses. Every time they tried something new he gained more respect for Ellison and Sandburg. Zone outs were a common occurrence the first day or two. Each time he came out of one he had to deal with the back lash of his other senses coming back on line. Just trying to shave had been a whole new experience. He had considered keeping the beard, but it tickled his skin too much.

He tilted his head, listening to the sounds of his guide making lunch inside the cabin, the small battery operated radio playing softly. Jenna had made it her goal not only to guide him, but to nurse him back to full health. For her that meant feeding him as much nutritious food as she could get him to eat, while exhausting him with sensory exercises and nature hikes.

//Guide,// he thought. //More like a mother hen. I wonder if Sandburg is like her in some ways.// He chuckled to himself. It would be poetic justice, having them be similar. He found the young woman to be energetic, quick thinking, and tenacious. She was also totally impervious to his attempts to intimidate her.

The not too distant sound of a dirt bike brought to mind that not all things in the mountain retreat were as pleasant as Jenna's smile. Her little brother, Barry, to put it simply, was a pain in the ass. Always looking to cause trouble. Whether it was tearing past the cabin at the crack of dawn on that bike of his or by inviting his friends to a party at all night in the next valley. Lee had found the evidence of the parties littering a small clearing on one of the many hikes they had been on.

Jenna came outside with a sandwich laden tray in one hand and a six pack of cold beer in the other. He took the tray from her and she sat down next to him, letting her legs swing casually.

"Beer? I thought I was on a strict diet of health foods," Lee commented dryly.

"Well if you don't want it, there's plenty of water." Jenna made a move to take the beer back inside.

"Touch that bottle and they'll never find your body." His tone was serious but he couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. He twisted open the bottle and took a long swallow. "Thanks, I really needed a drink."

"Well, you've done so well this past week I thought you deserved a treat," the young woman smiled.

"Well, not having too many distractions helped." Lee ran his hand through her black hair, which she was wearing loose today. "Plus, I've had a good teacher."

She blushed slightly. "It's not like you had much of a choice. When the power comes, you have to learn to control it. Grandfather said if a Sentinel doesn't find a Guide they can go mad from the sensory input."

"Tell me about Grandfather, what happened to his Sentinel?" Lee asked.

"Grandfather met his Sentinel in a fox hole during World War Two," Jenna said slowly. "He was a doctor, trying to get the wounded back from the front line in one piece. Although he didn't realize it at the time Doc was using his heightened senses to better diagnose his patients."

"How did he do that without zoning out?" Lee asked intrigued. They had adopted Sandburg's terminology since it was as good a description as any.

"Mostly luck. When Grandfather hooked up with him, they found they could detect internal bleeding easily, and find and remove bullets from wounded men with better accuracy than anyone thought possible. He was so proud to have found a Sentinel protecting the other soldiers." She looked into the distance remembering his stories.

"What happened to him?"

"After the war was over, some government agents wanted to learn how Doc had such a high survival rate among those they treated. Just after he refused to give up his private practice to work with them, a rumor started circulating that he was a communist." Jenna shook her head in anger. "It didn't help that no one liked the fact that he was living with another man. No one would come to him for treatment after a while. His practice fell apart, and he was soon pennyless. Grandfather made money doing odd jobs in the community. Less than a year after the war ended, Doc was found dead in his office."

"How did he die?" Lee placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

" An overdose of morphine. The police said it was a suicide. But Grandfather said he was murdered."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault," Jenna said confused.

"I was in the CIA, I know what governments are capable of," he said softly.

Jenna turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "That part of your life is over. As a Sentinel you can't play those old games of power. That is not what you are anymore."

Lee smiled at her determination. "I know, but if I ever stray I have you to keep me in line."

" Just so we are in agreement." Jenna slapped his shoulder, then returned to her sandwich.

Lee drank his beer slowly listening to the sound of his guide's heart beat as it slowed to a regular pace. In the back of his mind he was listening to the radio as the news came on.

{In news around the state: Detective James Ellison, Cascade's Cop of the Year, died last night when the vehicle he was driving slammed into a delivery truck and exploded, with him was his roommate Blair Sandburg, a grad student form Rainier University. The city is in shock from this tragic loss. The details are still sketchy and officials have so far refused to comment.}

"Son of a Bitch!" Lee jumped to his feet and ran to the radio. He listened to the rest of the report; at the end they highlighted to top stories including the one about Ellison and Sandburg. "Damn, they've got them."

"Was that about the men you needed to protect?" Jenna asked from the doorway.

"Yes." He pounded the counter with his fist. "I waited too long."

"You needed to learn control, Lee," she reminded him gently. "And you were in no shape physically to go anywhere."

"I shouldn't have waited so long. Ellison was able to stop a mad bomber only days after his senses came back on line." Lee paced the room.

Jenna stood in his way, hand on her hips. "Don't go guilt tripping. Ellison had a year and a half with a tribe that could train him. Repressed senses or not, instinctually he would know to follow the instructions of his new guide. You had to learn from the beginning."

Brackett closed his eyes, and calmed himself. "You're right, of course. But we have to go, now. The chances that they are actually dead are very slim. We'll need to confirm that first..." He trailed off at Jenna's joyous look. "What?"

"You said 'we'."

Lee looked at her a long moment. "I did, and I meant it. I know I can't do this without you."

"Just you remember that." Jenna waggled a thin finger at him, then turned to help him pack the some supplies.

Washington State Federal Prison

Mulder and Scully entered the office of Warden Mitchell. They had gone straight to the prison from the airport hoping to get answers without having to unduly alarm the members of the Major Crime division. There had been little doubt that the warden had been in on the sudden and unexplainable transfer of the obviously healthy ex-CIA agent into the solitary confinement wing of the prison.

They shook his hand in greeting and both took note of how sweaty it was, as well as the way the fifty-plus year old man could not seem to hold either of their gazes.

"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, I'm pleased to meet you," he said nervously. "Though I'm a bit confused as to the reason for the visit,

"Warden Mitchell," Scully began in her most professional voice. "We are here to question one of your prisoners in hopes that he might be able to shed some light on one of our cases."

"Oh really? Which prisoner?" Mitchell asked.

"Lee Brackett," Mulder replied, watching for any sign of reaction.

"Um, are you sure you have the correct prison? I don't recall having an inmate here by that name." He gulped hard, shifting in his seat in agitation.

"That's strange." Scully cocked and eyebrow at him. "According to the official records in Washington D.C., he should be here."

"There must be some sort of clerical error somewhere down the line, because that name isn't anywhere in our files."

"Really?" Mulder responded with disbelief. "You do understand that if a man like Brackett were to be running around loose he would be a threat to national security. He held a city for ransom using a plague capable of killing thousands in a matter of weeks. If he has been allowed to go free you will be held accountable for any deaths that he is responsible for."

Mitchell turned white and stammered, "I was just dong as I was ordered." He paled even more when he realized he'd said it out loud.

"Whose orders?" Mulder demanded. "What did they tell you to do?"

"They showed up with official papers saying that they wanted to get information out of Brackett. The took him out of here and said to lose all the files we had on him." Mitchell was sweating badly. "You've gotta understand the prison is almost to capacity -- one less inmate would hardly be missed."

"Where did they take him?" Scully asked.

"I don't know. They said they couldn't wait any longer so they just took him. It's not like he was in any position to protest. He'd been in solitary so long I doubt he even remembered what the sun looked like."

"Was that more of their instructions?" Dana was horrified that anyone would be treated like that.

"Yes, now please, I- I have a lot of work I have to do."

"I'd look into an early retirement, if I were you," Mulder commented. "It'd be a shame to have such a long standing career be ruined by, what did you call it? Oh yeah, a clerical error."

The two agents turned and left the office, heading back to the car. Mulder picked up the pace once they were outside the building.

"We should call in a APB on Brackett," Scully said as the climbed into the car.

Mulder sank into the drivers seat. Starting the car, he said, "I doubt there would be any point to that."

"Why? Brackett is a dangerous criminal," Scully said, pulling on her seat belt. "We have a duty to report his escape."

"He didn't escape, he was taken. Whether against his will or not, I don't think they would let him live."

"I would think that a man of Brackett's talent would be perfect for that group. Why not use him?"

"He was already a rogue, he would be a liability," Mulder responded, pulling the car onto the main road, heading for Cascade. "Why keep someone like that around?"

Scully turned on the radio for the long ride up.

{In news around the state: Detective James Ellison, Cascade's Cop of the Year, died last night when the vehicle he was driving slammed into a delivery truck and exploded. With him was his roommate, Blair Sandburg a grad student form Rainier University. The city is in shock from this tragic loss. The details are still sketchy and officials have so far refused to comment.}

Mulder tightened his hands on the wheel. Scully looked at her partner in desperate disbelief, hoping that the report was a mistake. She reached out and placed a thin hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He reached for her hand threading their fingers together. Their eyes met, and they shared a moment of grief.

"They're not dead," Mulder said with finality.

Scully looked at her partner for a long moment. "I believe you, Fox."

Simon waited until the bank was officially open before entering the building with the key and, just in case, a search warrant. The bank manager was only too happy to assist. He was shown the room with the safe deposit boxes and left alone to check the contents.

He opened the box and extracted a small envelope marked 'Banks'. Inside held a small note. "Simon, take these items to a secure location before examination. J & B"

He resisted the urge to tear the note to shreds as a flash of anger washed over him. The realization that his two friends had known for some time that something could happen hadn't been something he had thought about.

But it was obvious from the bundle wrapped in plain brown paper sitting in that box, that Ellison and Sandburg had given this a great deal of thought. They had prepared for it, though how you prepare for something like this he had no idea.

He lifted the large package out of the box, then locked it. He held it in his shaking hands, not wanting to make it real. It was, by its size and weight, a collection of papers and what felt like a video tape. He tucked it inside his jacket and headed out of the room.

The bank's manager smiled at him as he left. Thanking him for his patronage. Simon managed a weak smile, thanking him for his time. Then he made the record for the most red lights run in a single day, trying to get back to the precinct before he lost it, and ripped open the package in the car.

Rafe and Brown were waiting for him at the station. He signaled for them to follow him into his office. Once they closed the door Simon relaxed slightly.

"What were you able to find, sir?" Brown asked.

"The key opened a box with a note to me and this package." Simon held it up slightly. "Find me the most secure room we have, a TV/VCR set up, and a large pot of coffee." The two detectives nodded heading off to find the requested items.

A few minutes later Brown came back, nodding to him that they were ready. Simon entered the interrogation room and looked around satisfied that it would be secure.

Rafe entered the room pocketing a key. "No one will be able to get into the observation room without the key."

"Good work." Simon nodded approvingly. "I just need a little time alone now to look at this."

Brown and Rafe exchanged glances and stood their ground. "Sorry, sir. This isn't the time to be keeping secrets," Rafe said. "I know about Blair's dissertation subject... the real one."

Simon looked at the young detective in surprise. "Okay, but what you two see here does not go any farther than this room. I don't care what's on it." Both men nodded, though Brown was a little confused by all the secrecy.

Simon pushed the tape into the VCR and pressed play. As the screen changed from a blue screen to a picture of the loft, Simon wondered what it was that he would see. The camera was pointed so that the viewer saw the couch that was facing the fireplace. Simon held his breath as Blair came into view and sat down, placing several objects on the table. Jim came into view a moment later; he had obviously been checking the camera's angle. Blair watched as he sat down, faced the lens, and began to talk.

{{ "Simon, since you are watching this it's pretty safe to say that something has happened to the two of us. I told you a while ago that this might happen, so don't go blaming yourself for something that you had no power to prevent.

"You should have found several envelopes with this tape. Each one is specifically labeled, please have them delivered to the people they are addressed to. Also don't open them yourself. Some of them are very personal and we would rather only the recipient decide whether to share its contents." Jim shifted a little in his seat then glanced at Blair who whispered something.

"It's a given that members of Major Crime will be watching this with you. They'll want to know what this is all about. As long as they all understand that they are not to speak of this to anyone else, you can tell them the truth. It is for your own safety. If they don't believe you, Blair's completed thesis is in with the papers. They can read it for themselves."

Blair shifted in his seat and spoke. "Simon, I want to thank you for putting up with me over the past two years. I honestly didn't know what I was getting into when Jim and I started working together, but I wouldn't have missed this time as Jim's partner for anything." He paused for a moment, his expression changed to one of profound sadness. "I know this is going to be hard for you to do, Simon, but you'll have to tell Naomi the truth about my working with the police. I never told her about the real nature of my studies, and she won't take being lied to about this very well. I had planned to tell her after my thesis was finished, but I guess now it'll never happen. She is going to try and blame either you or Jim for what happened to me. One of these letters is for her, I tried to tell her how important this was to me. She has to understand that after I learned of the dangers, I stayed of my own choice, in full knowledge of the risks involved. I know she'll never understand fully why I did this, but she has to know that I love her dearly, and she has to let this all go."

Both men were quiet for a moment, they looked at each other, then back to the camera. When Jim spoke again, his eyes became hard. "None of you watching this is going to like what I'm about to say, but you had better listen. If we are dead, then we're dead. Don't go out for vengeance, do the investigation like you normally would, but if something big and ugly pushes back let it go. If we've been taken, don't try to find us. Trust me on this, we aren't worth your lives. We do have one request, keep an eye on my brother Stephen, he's a potential target. Naomi is too, but Blair has assured me that she has her own way of vanishing if she had to. Also she wouldn't stand to be held in custody. Too much like a police state, for her free spirit." }

"He's kidding right?" Brown asked.

Banks shook his head. "Ellison's back ground leaves no room to kid about something like this."

{ "I know you are all probably chomping at the bit right now, but this would be far too dangerous." Jim stopped then.

Blair said, "That's all we have to say really. There is plenty more we could, or should say. But how do you say them to a camera, when you don't know it will ever be needed..." Jim stood up and the tape shut off. }

The three men simply stood there for a long silent moment unable to speak. There was a knock on the door, jerking them out of their shock. Rafe opened the door looking out; he gasped in surprise and opened the door fully.

Simon turned to see two familiar figures standing in the hall. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, what are you doing here?"

The two agents entered the room. "We were in the state when we heard the news on the radio," Scully explained. "Have you confirmed if the bodies are those of Ellison and Sandburg?"

"Our coroner is going to be doing the autopsy in about an hour. We put a rush on it, but it's still going to take several hours before we get confirmation," Simon said sadly. "Preliminary reports says that the bodies where proximately the right height and weight."

"Damn," Mulder said angrily. "We got an anonymous tip yesterday that Lee Brackett disappeared from the prison that had been holding him."

"What?" Simon gasped. "Why wasn't this department informed that he had escaped?" His hands clenched in impotent anger.

"I didn't say escaped I said disappeared," Mulder corrected. "We went to the prison to confirm this and discovered that he had been taken, quite likely against his will."

"Who would have wanted to take a guy like him?" Brown asked.

Rafe placed a hand on his partner's shoulder, looking pointedly at his captain. "This has to do with Jim's abilities. Brackett knew about them, didn't he?"

"Yeah, Rafe, he knew," Simon admitted.

"Captain," Scully began, getting the large man's attention. "I'd like to oversee the autopsy of the two bodies."

Banks nodded, "I think Dan would appreciate some help on this. The bodies were so badly burned there is very little left to identify."

"What abilities are you talking about?" Brown demanded. "What the hell is everyone talking about?"

Rafe took his partner aside to explain the situation. He hoped that the truth of this would better prepare him for the other truths that he personally was keeping.

Simon glanced at his men, wondering how long it would take for Jim and Blair's big secret to spread through the precinct. You could never keep things from detectives long, but the two men had been pretty successful. Now though the question became whether to simply let everyone know why Ellison had been targeted or to keep this secret in honor of their memory.

While Scully made her way to the morgue, Mulder walked over to the table in the room. There were several envelopes, each one labeled clearly. The names included Captain Banks, Steven Ellison, Naomi Sandburg, Dr. Eli Stoddard, even one addressed to Scully and himself. He turned to Banks who was watching him.

"Where did you find these?" he asked.

"They were in a safety deposit box. Seems they knew more about what they could be facing than they ever let on." Simon's voice was gruff with emotion.

"We'll find out what happened, Captain," Mulder said with determination. "You have my word on that."

Lee and Jenna strolled down the street that ran along the building which held Ellison's apartment, with casual ease. Dressed in flannel shirts, blue jeans, and deerskin jackets, they looked like typical north westerners. Lee's long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, while Jenna's black hair hung in a long braid down her back.

The sentinel could see from the police markers down the street that the focus of the investigation was centered on where the crash had taken place. He paused for a moment, then went to stand near Sandburg's parking spot which held a classic Volvo now instead of a Corvair. He wondered briefly what had happened to the other car.

Jenna, standing slightly behind him, placed her right hand on his shoulder. "Open up your senses. Locate the things that shouldn't be here."

Lee did as instructed, immediately finding several small drops of blood that where blending into a spot of oil. As he knelt down to inspect it more closely he saw a small object imbedded in the tread of one of the Volvo's tires.

He stared at the tire for a moment, then said, "Jenna, do you have a pocket knife or anything like that?"

"Got one better." She reached into her jacket and produced a compact multi-tool. "I never go anywhere with out it."

Lee took the tool and smiled up at his guide. "You are a wonder, you know that?"

"I'm glad you're finally noticing," Jenna replied, smiling broadly.

Lee looked up at her in surprise. "I always notice, but I'll make sure to mention it more often." He smiled when she blushed slightly, then turned his attention back to the tire. Opening the tool's pliers he pried out the small object. "Well, that certainly casts a different light on the events that happened here."

"What is it?" Jenna asked, pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket to receive the object.

"That, is a government issue tranquilizer dart," he said, placing the dart in the handkerchief and wrapping it up carefully. "They are used mostly for capturing spies when they want them alive. Looks like I was right when I said they got them. Now all we have to do is find them."

"What about those bodies at the morgue? How can we be sure that they didn't accidentally kill themselves trying to escape?"

"Good point, I'll have to sneak into the morgue to check the bodies." Lee grimaced at the idea of walking right into the Cascade P.D. headquarters.

"You're going to have to be able to identify them," Jenna reminded him. "And to do that you'll need to check the bodies for their scents."

"Which means a little breaking and entering," Lee finished for her. "Lets go see what I can pick up in the loft. Not like I don't know my way in there."

A few minutes later they were standing in the middle of the living room of the loft looking around. Lee noted the way the decorations had changed a bit. How much of the two men's styles had integrated. A small smile crossed his face as he thought of how much the anthropologist had changed the former Army Ranger. He glanced at his own guide for a moment and wondered how much she would change him, and what being his guide would do to her.

"Is this them?" Jenna asked. She was looking at a picture that had been sitting on the coffee table; it depicted the two men at some wooded area, obviously camping. They were smiling, Jim had his arm around Blair's shoulder.

"That's Ellison, and the other is Sandburg," Lee said pointing to each one.

"They look good together," she commented absently.

"So how do you suggest we do this?" Lee asked calling her back from her contemplation.

"The best place to get sample of each of their scents would be in the bedrooms," Jenna said. He nodded and followed her into Blair's room. He noted that rather than the temporary feel the room had when he had first broken into the loft almost two years ago, now there was a sense of belonging, of permanence.

He picked up one of the pillows from the bed. Looking at his guide for reassurance, he inhaled deeply. In his mind he picked out the different scents that lingered there: the smell of the laundry detergent, from the shampoo that had clung to the young man's hair; the smell of the feathers in the pillow form the smell of his body. He pulled back from his focus, when he identified all the levels. "That wasn't so bad. Lets go upstairs and get Ellison's."

Jenna watched him carefully, her dark eyes never leaving him as they did the same thing upstairs. Scenting wasn't the easiest thing for a Sentinel to do. Doc had only done it once, to find a young boy that had run away from home. It had been difficult, but they had found the boy hiding in a cave, afraid to go home. She wondered how the community could have turned their backs on him after all he had done for them.

Lee finished and placed the pillow back in its proper place. He sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" Jenna asked.

"I was just thinking about how bizarre it is that I'm doing this. Two years ago I wouldn't have cared, now I'm risking everything to save a man that will probably want to beat the crap out of me if we ever stand in the same room." Lee let out a wry chuckle.

"A little hard to believe?" she asked.

"No harder than believing I'm a Sentinel."

"You'll get used to it." Jenna wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I'm here to keep you grounded remember."

"I know," Lee smiled. "Just don't let me forget."

"Never," Jenna affirmed.

Dana Scully and Dan Wolf finished the autopsy on the two bodies, and were still no closer to learning if the bodies where those of Ellison and Sandburg. Simon came down to check on their progress, to find them perplexed and aggravated.

"I take it identification isn't going well?" he asked.

Dan pulled off his gloves and threw them into the dispenser. "We keep getting mixed signals from the bodies. At first I was positive that this was Sandburg," he gestured to the body now covered with a cloth again. "But we can't seem to get any dental records for him so I can't go by that. I was going to use the bullet wound he received in the leg, but I called the hospital to get the x-rays from the incident, but the hospital can't find the records."

"You're kidding right?" Simon asked.

"No," Scully confirmed. "I called the Pentagon to check their records for any medical data we could use. The informed me that all records of Ellison's service have been sealed. We called the dentist in his police medical files, she informed me that several men arrived with a federal looking warrant and removed all of his records."

"So your saying that a positive ID is nearly impossible?" Simon asked, not at all happy.

"Unfortunately," Scully said, washing her hands in the sink, scrubbing hard in an attempt to relieve her frustration. "Which only makes me suspicious of who these bodies are. There are very few groups with the clout to pull something like this off."

"But why go through all this to grab Ellison?" Dan asked. "I mean, he's a good detective, but to do this? And to grab Sandburg along with him? It doesn't make any sense."

Scully and Simon exchanged glances, but said nothing. Dan rolled the body they had tentatively identified as Sandburg into one of the drawers. He shook his head sadly. "I'm going to get some coffee, want to join me Agent Scully?"

"Yeah, I really need some."

"Agent Mulder is still in the room with the tape," Simon told her. "I'll be in my office trying to make some sense of this mess."

Rafe stood outside the main entrance of the P.D. pacing with agitation. He didn't know if this was a good idea. In fact he had a feeling that it was a lousy idea, but he felt they needed all the help they could get. He saw his lover as he strode down the street toward him.

"Thank you from coming," Johan said.

"You should have called me last night," Methos said angrily. "I would have been here first thing."

"I'm sorry, love. It was just such a shock." Rafe stumbled over his words.

"I understand, lets see what I can do to help." He looked over the young immortal with a concerned eye. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"

"I don't think I will be able to for a while. The idea that someone took out Eliison and Sandburg is hard to handle. "

"I can understand." Methos said.

"Come on." Rafe led him into the building, accidentally bumping into a young Native American woman as they tried to go in the same door. He smiled in way of apology, as she let her escort go in first. Rafe waved her on and led Methos to were they could get a visitor's pass.

"Do you really think you can help?" Rafe asked suddenly, stepping into the elevator.

"It took a great deal of trust for them to admit who they were," Methos said quietly. "The least I can do is show that trust was justified by trying to find them."

They exited the elevator on the sixth floor, heading right to the commandeered room. Scully and Mulder were going over the reports with Brown and Simon. They all looked up as Rafe and Methos entered.

Simon bit down on his unlit cigar, not happy with the sudden inclusion of the dark haired man. "I hope you have a good reason for bringing your cousin in here, Detective," he growled.

Methos gave the captain an appraising look; from what Johan had told him, he was a good man that cared a great deal about the people in his unit. There was little doubt that he didn't like it when things were out of control, or when there were unanswered questions. "Johan thought that I could help you with your investigation," he said finally.

The two FBI agents saw the ancient immortal and stared in disbelief. "Adam?" Scully managed to say after a moment. "Why are you-? Do you know Jim and Blair?"

Methos smiled at them as he approached. He bent and kissed Scully's hand while Mulder scowled at him. He then extended his hand to shake Mulder's, who gave him a wary glance but took it. "I'm a friend to them, and Rafe was a student of mine."

"I didn't think you liked to get personally involved in things, Pierson." Mulder commented dryly.

"Normally I don't, but who they are and what they represent is very important to me." He smiled seeing the surprise on their faces and noting the lack of personal space between the agents. "I'm glad to see that you two have finally decided what was important to you."

Fox and Dana glanced at each other for a moment and their hands clasped briefly. "You made some sense back then," Dana said. "It helped us make some choices."

"Good," the ancient immortal said tersely. "But now we have a problem, and I'm not about to let another pair of Guardians disappear form the earth."

They would have said more but there was shouting coming from the hall. Banks, Rafe, and Brown all recognized the voice of Bomb Squad captain, Joel Taggert. They ran to see what was causing him to sound so panicked.

Jenna nearly had a heart attack when she was informed by her sentinel that the handsome young man that she had bumped into at the entrance was a detective. She was glad that not all cops were sentinels, because as cool as her exterior was, she couldn't help the frantic pulse of her own heart as they casually strolled down the corridors of the police department.

As they stepped into an empty elevator Lee quickly pressed the door button then pressed the button which would take them into the morgue. He sighed a little when there was no hesitation in the car's movement.

Glancing over at his guide, he could easily tell how nervous she was. He reached over, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her against him. "I know this is hard, it's no picnic for me either. Quite a few members of this department know exactly what I look like."

"Lee, we have got to be crazy. They'll never listen to you. Why don't we just check the bodies, and go search for them on our own?" Jenna leaned against his frame, taking the comfort he offered.

"As much as I'd like to, there is something to be said about having people to back you up. Assuming they listen to me, of course." Lee shrugged.

"If that was supposed to make me feel better," Jenna began, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "Then we're going to have to work on you interpersonal skills, as well as your senses."

Lee's retort was cut off by the doors opening. He tilted his head to hear if anyone was around. A small smile crept across his face as he heard the staff leaving to get some lunch. He signaled for his guide to follow him, as he made he way to the morgue's double doors. Pulling open the wooded doors he heard Jenna swallow nervously. The sight that greeted them was less horrible than expected. He turned down his sense of smell as he detected the odor of slowly decaying flesh.

"Where do we start?" Jenna asked.

"This looks like the best way," Lee said, checking a list next to the row of drawers. "The report said that the car exploded, so the bodies have got to be badly burned."

"Ick," Jenna commented.

"Yeah, exactly. If you start feeling sick I want you to wait outside." He said as he pulled open the first of the two drawers.

Jenna gasped and swallowed hard when he pulled back the cloth covering the body. There was very little left but crisped flesh and charred bone in the relative form of a human.

"Damn, how the hell am I gonna get anything off of this?" Lee whispered in horror.

"Look for the scent, it would still be there, if this is Ellison."

Lee let his senses open up looking for the two things that marked the men that they were looking for. Not finding it immediately he pushed deeper looking beyond the surface, past the charred flesh, nothing. Searching deeper still, until he found himself floating in an inky blackness.

"Lee! Lee, come back. Now is not the time or the place to lose it." Jenna's voice called to him. "Stop looking, it's not here, they aren't here. Leonard Patrick Brackett, come back to me. Now."

Lee followed the voice back, until he was back in his body again. The lights and smell of the morgue assaulted his senses. "Uh, I'm okay," he said. "Just give me a moment." He shook his head to clear it, turning down his senses back to a comfortable level. "Guess I went a little too far, huh?" he smiled weakly.

"Don't do that again!" Jenna said furiously. "You scared me half to death."

"Well, I proved one thing," Lee said with satisfaction. "Those aren't the bodies of Ellison or Sandburg."

"You're sure?" Jenna needed to ask.

"Yes." Lee nodded. "There's no question in my mind."

"Good, now let's get out of here," she said with a shudder.

Lee followed her into the elevator and pushed the button for six floor, trying hard to ignore the searing look his guide through at him.

"This is not an improvement," Jenna informed him. "Couldn't you call them up? Tell them what you know from a distance, so you're not in the line of fire."

"I can't do that, Jenna," he said softly. "I need to work with them. As much as it goes against everything I used to be. If there were any other way to do this I would." His eyes locked on the floor indicator, his body still.

"Just don't get yourself killed," Jenna whispered. "I've gotten kind of attached to you."

The doors opened and they stepped out. Lee opened his hearing trying to locate the captain of the Major Crime unit. No one seemed to have taken notice of them so they moved slowly. Lee heard the voice he was seeking and made a bee line for the sound. He was so focused he hadn't noticed the large black man staring at him.

Jenna saw him out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing a captain's badge, but didn't fit the description of Banks. Her heart went into her throat as she saw him reach of his gun.

"Freeze Brackett!" Joel Taggert cried, his eyes wide with fear and anger. The office workers that were in the hall with them dove into the closest doorways or crouched out of the line of fire. Several more officers came running at the captain's call. "Hands where I can see them! Miss, I want you to step away from that man, come stand behind me."

Lee did as he was told, his hands coming up just above his shoulders. Jenna planted herself in Joel's line of fire. Taking a deep breath Lee said, "Do as he says. I'll be fine."

"Not on your life, he's shaking so hard that gun might go off by accident," Jenna whispered back.

"Miss, please come over here," Taggert said insistently, his voice rising. "That man is very dangerous."

"If I move what guarantee do I have that you aren't going to shoot him?" she asked Joel calmly. She tried to keep track of all the movement around them.

Lee wanted Jenna to move, more than anything. A spark of fear lit in his chest at the thought that she might get hurt. A door behind him opened, and he heard the sound that he had been looking for.

"Christ!" cursed Captain Banks. "Nobody move! Everyone just calm down." As he took charge, several people behind him made surprised noises.

"Captain Banks," Lee began. "I'm unarmed, I just came here to talk."

Simon took in the scene before him, and realized just how agitated Taggert was. "Rafe, Brown, escort Brackett into room 3 and keep an eye on him." As Lee turned to go with them Jenna followed a step behind. Simon placed a hand on her shoulder stopping her. "Where do you think you're going miss?"

"With Lee," Jenna asserted. " I'm his partner. Where he goes I go."

"And you are?" he asked, taken aback.

"Jenna Two-Feathers." She smiled slightly and extended her hand. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

Simon automatically shook her hand, staring down at her for a moment in disbelief. "Alright, go on with them. I'll be with you in a few minutes." He shook his head slowly as she walked away from him.

"Simon," Joel spoke behind him. "What the hell is going on. Why didn't anyone tell us he had escaped?"

Simon turned placing his right hand on his friend's shoulder. "That is a good question. We're gonna get the answers, but you have to keep your cool."

The Bomb Squad captain put his gun away. "You need any help watching him?"

"No, Joel. We've got it covered." Simon assessed his friends condition. "Why don't you go to my office, get some coffee? I'll tell you what's going on, once I figure it out myself. Okay?"

"Sure thing, Simon." Joel looked suddenly very tired.

Blair woke slowly; his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his body felt like he was swimming in a vat of molasses. He grimaced at the taste in his mouth, three week old socks would probably have tasted better. He rolled over groaning in discomfort.

He suddenly realized he wasn't in his own bed. Nervously he searched his memory trying to figure out where he was. There were only two times in his life that he ended up in a strange bed with no memory of what happened. The first time had been after the party when he got his Masters degree. The other time had been his overdose on Golden. He hadn't liked the disorientation that occurred during the two events, and he didn't like the feeling now.

He opened his eyes to see where he was, only to shut them just as quickly when he was nearly blinded by harsh flourescent lights overhead. Pain flashed in his head briefly and he groaned again.

"Easy, Chief," Jim's voice said softly, his large warm hand touching his forearm.

"Jim?" Blair asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. Just relax. The tranks they hit us with make you feel like you've been on a weekend bender when you first come to, but it'll wear off soon."

The words where meant to be comforting, but they brought back what had happened. The attack outside the loft hadn't taken very long; Blair felt a lump in his chest that resembled terror at the realization of just how easily they had been taken. He opened his eyes again, squinting in the harsh lights to look up at his partner. Underneath the stoic mask that Jim was trying to use, Blair saw a profound sadness and guilt.

"Don't blame yourself for this, man. It's not your fault," Blair said softly. "How are you feeling?"

Jim sat down next to him on the cot. "I've been better, but the drug wore off pretty quick for me. I was just coming to when they dumped us in this room. That was about three or four hours ago."

"Any idea where we might be?" the younger man asked glancing around the room.

"No, just that we're underground." Jim shrugged. "The echo in the walls couldn't be caused by anything else."

Blair grimaced at the sterile white walls. In one corner there was a hospital blind which was slightly obscuring his view of a small sink and a toilet. "Gee, all the comforts of home I see," he lowered his voice to the barest whisper. "So what's the plan?"

Jim gave him his best 'innocent' look. "What make you think I have one?"

"Because, you always have one," Blair replied with confidence.

Jim winked at him. The slight smile faded as he tilted his head in a listening posture. "We're about to have some company."

Blair sat up quickly, as Jim stood facing the door. Blair noticed with an odd sense of relief that they still had their clothes on. His mind shied away from the implications of what a lack of clothes would have meant. Any comfort he might have taken from his and Jim's relatively untouched states vanished when the door opened.

Four soldiers in black fatigues entered the room, each armed with a pistol, a billy club, and a taser which was shaped like a cattle prod. Jim sized them up with a trained eye, instantly deciding that if not for the toys on their belts he could take them all down in about five minutes. It wouldn't be an easy fight, but he would win. Behind them stepped in an old man and a woman somewhere in her mid twenties early thirties. Both wore lab coats; the woman carried a small tray in her hands. The last person to enter the room was a craggy faced man in his late fifties in a rumpled business suit.

Cancerman regarded the two men with a cool gaze, years of practice had taught him to show no emotions. These two men were the greatest threat the project had ever faced, but here, in this facility they were contained. What happened to them now was up to what his specialists learned in the next few hours. "Gentlemen, my associates would like to take a blood sample from each of you. Now you can either cooperate with them or I can have the guards make sure you can't put up a fight. The choice is yours."

Sentinel and Guide exchanged glances, Jim shook his head ever so slightly. This was not the time to try anything. They were badly out numbered and out gunned. Reluctantly Blair rolled up his sleeve and watched the woman closely as she took the blood from his arm. Their eyes met for a moment; he was startled to see something familiar about her bright hazel eyes. He tried to place it, but couldn't. Once she was done taking the samples she turned to do the same to Jim. She seemed to be oblivious to how dangerous the ex-Ranger could be. They was no hesitation, no show of any emotion as she went about her work.

Blair instinctually closed his eyes and centered himself. It was a technique he had learned while studying meditation. Gary Martins his friend from Rainier U. had helped him learn when he had been a freshmen. If you looked at someone or something a certain way you could see it's aura. He didn't like using it at all because to him it was an invasion of privacy.

He was a little out of practice but as he opened his eyes again he saw he was still good at it. Everyone had a white glow from their personal energy field. They all seemed normal but the levels of energy were so low, it was as if they were only half alive. Looking at the man in the suit, he nearly panicked when saw a blackness that seemed to be coiled around the light of the body. Blair tore his eyes from the sight, looking instead at Jim who was just now done with having blood taken. Jim radiated energy from his center that seemed to stretch in a circle around him. There was a bright silvery connection between himself and his partner. He felt himself calming at the confirmation of their bond.

The group of men filed out in reverse order, leaving Jim and Blair standing in the middle of the room. Blair sank back down to sit on the cot and dropped his head in his hands. Jim sat down next to him watching his partner closely.

"You okay partner?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I think so." He lifted his head to look at the door. "Just remind me not to play shaman when that guy in the suit is near me."

"What did you do?" Jim asked, his face tight with concern.

"I just 'looked' at them, you know." Blair sighed when Jim shook his head. "Remember when I told you about auras, and how Kirlian photography was the only reliable man made device for detecting it? Well I know that because I studied how to see them. I don't do it as a general rule, 'cause it's difficult to do and usually gives me a headache afterward."

"So you looked at their auras?" Jim asked. Blair nodded smiling at the fact that Jim wasn't laughing. "So what did you see?"

"He's got this blackness to him, it's like nothing I've ever seen. It's almost as if there is something attached to him, or has a great deal of influence." Blair shuddered at the memory.

"We'll keep an eye on him," Jim reassured him.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why haven't they done more to us?" Blair asked.

"I don't know. Frankly the fact that they haven't started anything makes me more nervous." Jim looked around the room. "By the way, we are bugged and monitored. I think the only place that has a slight bit of privacy is our little slice of heaven over there." Jim pointed over at the 'bathroom' area.

"Oh that's just great," Blair glared about the room. "You know, I had a really unsettling thought."

"What's that?" Jim asked.

Blair leaned over to touch him, //If they got us this easily, what are the chances they could get to Stephen or Naomi?//

Jim paled significantly. //We just have to hope that they don't consider them targets, and hope they lie low for a while.//

//So what do we do now?// Blair asked after a long moment.

Jim looked down at him, determination radiating from the larger man, a dangerous light deep in the bright blue eyes. //We plan our escape.//

Cancerman paced the sterile white corridor. The sounds of his footsteps echoed off the walls and down the halls. The complex had been designed to house the most sensitive equipment, no room for contamination. The door he was just outside of was barred to him until they were done the analysis, because of his smoking habit. It had been over an hour since the blood had been drawn, more than enough time to get the results back, results he needed to plan his next move.

Yes, he planned to terminate them, but there were other considerations to deal with. The Ellison family had been listed as no threat long ago. With no ties to either the government or any of the project families they had been of no consequence. Then that fool Colonel Oliver, had to start his own business on the side. Leaving Captain Ellison for dead in the jungle for all that time allowed him to save the Chopek and secure the territory from further attacks.

Those primitives should have been wiped out back then. The need to eliminate them was the reason they had let Cyclops Oil get away with the illegal drilling operation. The company's obvious disregard for the environment made them the perfect scapegoats for the destruction of the area. But then Ellison and his partner uncovered the whole scheme.

A cold sense of satisfaction rolled over him. Ellison would die, not just for what he was but for what he had accomplished without even realizing it. Sandburg was just as responsible. Perhaps he would let Ellison watch his guide die before killing him.

Finally the door opened, the withered old scientist, Dr. Marcus Havelock, motioned him to enter with a bony hand. He had been with the project longer than anyone else, over a half a century. He was obsessed with his work, in fact the old man planned to die at his work station if it was at all possible. Cancerman stepped in quickly, noting how all the equipment had been returned to there airtight storage compartments before the old man had let him in.

"What are your findings?" he asked.

"Sir," Havelock began. "I've run the analysis , and compared the results with the previously gathered data. I'm afraid there is a problem with our findings."

"What sort of problem?"

"These men do not carry enough of the genetic markers to create the Sentinel/Guide syndrome. Without those markers, they can not possibly be exhibiting the characteristics that we have associated with the affliction."

"Perhaps you analysis is incorrect," Cancerman suggested, not liking what he was hearing at all.

"No sir, I ran the tests twice. These men are not what you suggested that they were."

"Let me see your findings."

Havelock led him to a light table where several transparent sheets lay lined up for study. "These here are from the last batch of subjects done in the fifties. Back when we were still using our associate's equipment, instead of our own. In each case there was a set of nine markers that are present." He then pointed to another set of charts. "These are from the two subjects you now have in observation room five. As you can see they are missing several of the key sequences. The sentinel is missing three, while the guide is missing four. So they can't be afflicted with the disorder since there aren't enough of the markers to trigger it."

"That isn't possible. We have surveillance of Ellison using heightened senses."

"Then perhaps he only has a few, he certainly couldn't have more than two or three. You and your people made sure of that long ago." Havelock's voice held a bitter tone to it.

"You never objected to our work before now." Cancerman's voice held a warning.

"The study and elimination of a potentially dangerous genetic flaw is not what I object to." Havelock waved dismissively. "I object to your assertion that these two subject must be terminated before all methods of determining their origin can be utilized."

"There is very little chance that they would let you even try the methods you employed on the last subjects. I don't need to remind you of what happened that time, do I?"

The old man halted his next sentence, a small shudder ran through his body as he remembered. Two of his colleagues had been killed by a Sentinel who was trying to get to her guide after they had separated them for a pain endurance test. It was a mistake that they never repeated. "Even so, can't you at least give us the time to determine if this is some new genetic mutation?"

"I'm sorry Marcus, there is very little time left." Cancerman pulled out a cigaret from his pocket. "You have forty-eight hours to finish your study. After that they are to be terminated. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. It would be easier if I had a control group to study as well. Perhaps a relative or two."

"Very well, I'll have one of them here by morning. If that is all then I shall leave you to your work."

Two hours after taking Lee Brackett into custody the men and women who were in interrogation room three had most of their cards out on the table.

Henry Brown rubbed his temples trying to alleviate the headache that had settled just behind his eyes. "This is all just too much," he muttered. "Sentinels, shadow governments, secret research facilities, and Ellison and Sandburg hiding this big secret from everyone." He turned to his partner, who was simply nodding. "How can you sit there so calmly? This is crazy."

"I knew about Jim and Blair's secret already," Rafe admitted to his partner. He cringed at the look of betrayal he saw reflected in the deep brown eyes. "Look, it wasn't my place to tell. Besides I found out by accident."

"How long have you known about them?" Brown asked softly. He was feeling like he was the only person in the whole department that hadn't known about this.

"I found out a little over a month ago," Rafe said. "Just before I took my leave."

Brown looked like he was going to say something more but a frantic knock on the door stopped him. Simon opened the door; a tall blonde haired man stood before him. His bright blue eyes were filled with sorrow, dark circles were under his eyes, marring the usually handsome face of Stephen Ellison.

"Captain Banks, I just got back from a business trip in Europe." He swallowed hard. "I was wondering if there was any chance I could see Jim's body."

"Come in Mr. Ellison." Simon ushered the younger brother of his best detective into the room. "I'd like to talk to you about that."

Mulder stared at Stephen for a moment. A feeling of dread started to crawl up his spine as he saw the Captain inform him of the possibility of Jim's and Blair's abduction. He knew the consortium too well to think that they would leave a sibling free. Especially if there was any chance that he might exhibit the same abilities.

"Captain, I think it might be wise to place Mr. Ellison in protective custody," he said.

Stephen looked startled, "Why? Do you think that I'm in danger too?"

"It is possible," Scully admitted. "The people we could be dealing with are known for taking whole families and making them disappear."

Stephen ran his hands through his hair in a very Ellison like way. He shook his head slowly. "I can't be confined. I-I've got to much too do with the merger finally back on track."

"What were you going to do -- look at you brother's body then act like nothing had happened?" Simon demanded. "I would think Jim would earn a little more respect from you than that."

"No damn it!" Stephen turned on the captain, his eyes bright with fury and grief. "I love my brother. It's tearing me up inside knowing that I've finally reestablished a relationship with him after fifteen years, only to lose him again."

Simon regretted his words the moment he had said them. He could clearly see the pain on the young man's face. So easy to read compared to his military trained brother. He couldn't help but wonder if Jim had ever been that open when he was growing up. "I'm sorry, that was out of line. I'm just worried about Jim and Blair."

"I think I have a solution to protecting Stephen, if he's willing to go along with it," Methos offered, startling several people in the room. He had a talent for making himself invisible and he used it to his advantage.

"What would that be?" Simon asked, still not sure if he trusted him.

"I have a friend in Seacouver. If you are willing," Methos directed his words to Stephen. "He would make an excellent body guard for you. He's military trained and is as trustworthy as you can find."

"Why would he help protect me?" Stephen asked warily.

"Duncan Macleod tends to like protecting those that need it. He'll guard you with his life if necessary." Methos smiled. "Besides he owes me."

Stephen looked him squarely in the eye, trying to gauge his motives. Seeing no guile, he decided that if he was a friend of Jim's that he could be trusted. "I guess that it would be better than not getting any work done at all." He nodded thoughtfully. "Call your friend."

Simon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "If that's what you want Stephen. But I want this guy to meet you here."

Methos had a hint of a smile on his face as he stepped over to the far corner of the room to dial Duncan's cell phone number. The phone rang several times before it was picked up. "Macleod."

"Hello, Duncan. It's Adam."

"Methos? Are you alright?" Duncan sounded concerned.

"I'm fine, but a few friends of mine aren't so lucky."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?" the Scotsman asked.

"As a matter of fact there is," Methos turned very serious. "The brother of one of my friends needs protection for a while, and I'd like you to play bodyguard."

"Does this have to do with Rafe?" Duncan asked trying to keep his tone even.

"It has to do with one of his coworkers," Methos said ignoring the petulance he heard in his friends voice. "These missing men are special. More so in some ways than our kind are, they are rarer than roses in winter."

"Really?" Duncan was intrigued. "What's so special about them."

Methos took a deep breath knowing what kind of reaction he might get from his some what closed minded friend. "They are the Watchmen. Breathnaim Fear." He said the last part in Gallic.

Duncan must have been drinking something for he began to make choking noises on the other side of the line. "You've got to be joking. The Watchmen are nothing but a legend." His Scottish accent become more pronounced as he spoke.

"Yeah, so was Conner, so was Cain Wolf, and so was I," Methos reminded him. "Stop trying to stick everyone and everything into neat little packages, Macleod. You'll find the world a much more amazing place."

"You're serious about this?" Duncan asked quietly.

"Yes, and they've been kidnaped. I need you to guard Ellison's brother. Just in case they go after him as well," Methos said quietly.

"Alright, I'll help. Where are you?"

"I'm at the Cascade P.D. headquarters. When you get here the front desk will direct you up to Major Crimes." Methos couldn't help but smile at the muttered Gallic curses that streamed from Macleod's lips. "See you soon, Duncan."

"Yeah, yeah." Duncan groused.

Methos closed his cell phone and saw the eyes of the Sentinel resting upon him. "He'll be here in a few hours."

"I heard," Lee shrugged. "You really think your friend can handle the Consortium's men?"

"Yes." Methos affirmed.

Lee nodded, "I hope you're right. For both their sakes."

Simon left the small room to get some coffee and to clear his head. He didn't want to believe that a man like Brackett could become a Sentinel. Yet he saw from the little hints of discomfort, and the way the man 'noticed' things that it was true.

Simon could also tell by the slightly too thin features and the haunted look that occasionally flitted across Brackett's face that the man had been through a terrible ordeal. There was no way of knowing what kind of hell he had lived through. Honestly Simon didn't think he wanted to know. What mattered was that he and his Guide were willing to help.

His train of thought was interrupted when he entered the bullpen. He knew his people had a hundred questions but they where holding back asking. If Ellison had been there he would have been all over him for answers. Seeing the empty desk caused a lump to form in his throat. Entering his office Simon was surprised to see a short stocky built man sitting in front of his desk waiting.

"Charlie Spring?" he asked.

"Captain Banks, boy I'm glad you're here. I've been waiting about an hour," Spring said quickly. He jumped up and shook the captain's hand then nervously paced the room.

"What's going on?" Simon asked him.

Charlie paused in his movements then started pacing again. "I heard about the accident. That wasn't them. They're alive and I've got a pretty good idea where they might be."

"Hold on Charlie." Simon raised his hands. "Slow down and start from the top."

"If I did it would take too long. Listen, I've been getting these hits they all have to do with Jim and Blair. They're in trouble, big trouble."

"I know that," Simon placated. "We've officially listed them as missing, pending on the identification of the bodies. But we have reason to suspect they were grabbed."

Charlie sighed, "So you know they aren't dead. Good, then I don't have to try and convince you. Now all we have to do is find them."

"Easier said then done," Simon muttered. "You wouldn't happen to have a suggestion as to where to start looking."

The short man's eyes glazed over for a long moment. Simon considered shaking him to get his attention; there was something unnerving about the look. It reminded him of one of Jim's zone-outs. Just as quickly Charlie blinked and came back to himself. "They're in a mountain."

"Oh yeah, that's very helpful," Simon said sarcastically.

"Actually it's more helpful then you might think," Mulder said from the doorway. "Mr. Spring, I'm Agent Mulder. My partner and I are here to help find Ellison and Sandburg."

Charlie shook his hand. "Your looking for someone you lost a long time ago."

Mulder swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "That's true, but at the moment finding Ellison and Sandburg are the priority."

"How can knowing that help us at all?" Simon asked, glancing at Mulder. "There are thousands of mountains out there."

"True, but there are bound to be only a few that have any kind of underground facility. I'll get some friends of mine working on possible sites."

"I keep getting the feeling that it's south of here," the psychic added.

"How far?" another voice came from behind Mulder. Brackett stood in the doorway, Brown next to him as escort. He had heard the psychic from the room and wanted to meet him.

Charlie was stunned when he turned and for a split second saw a coyote standing at the new man's feet. He shook the vison away quickly. "I'm not sure. These kinds of things can be tricky, but I'm pretty certain they never left Washington state."

"What other hits have you had?" Mulder asked.

Charlie shook his head in frustration, "A lot of it doesn't make much sense. Some of it is feelings, they're scared, and not just for themselves. They are worried that these guys will come after their family."

Mulder pulled out his cell phone and dialed the Lone Gunmen, "Byers could you pull up that list of Black Op bases that you compiled.-- Anything in the Pacific Northwest. Thanks, call me back a soon as you can."

Scully watched for a moment as Jenna Two-feathers poured herself a cup of coffee. She walked over to stand beside the young woman pouring herself a fresh cup.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Scully began.

"Go head." Jenna shrugged.

"What is it like to guide someone like you do? I wanted to ask Blair when I first learned about their partnership, but I never had the chance."

Jenna wrinkled her brow in thought. "Try imagining being a combination of a friend, confidant, and twenty-four hour chaperone to a child that is often too stubborn to admit he needs help. Lee isn't what I was expecting when I thought about finding a Sentinel, and in all honesty there are times when he is a royal pain in the ass."

"Then why do it?" Scully asked.

"It's kind of like finding a part of yourself that you didn't know was missing. I feel responsible for his well being. If I'm not there to watch his back he could easily get killed."

"But there have been times when Sandburg wasn't with Ellison and nothing untoward happened to him," Scully said skeptically.

"Yes but they have been together for a lot longer. Ellison is in much more control of his senses than Lee is. Having had previous experience in the jungle, helped him gain control faster."

"So you feel an obligation to help him even knowing what he's done in his past." Scully shook her head, truly not understanding. "It sounds like a form of slavery to me."

"Not an obligation, more of a calling," Jenna attempted to explain. "It's like they say what happens with priests. There is a need to protect, and commit to a person. It goes beyond gender roles or preconceived ideas of what a partnership is supposed to be. The need to be there for that one special person regardless of the danger and despite the constant urging of others to look out for your own personal safety."

Scully chuckled softly, her tone a bit bitter. "That last bit sounds familiar. I often wonder what makes me stay around Mulder at times."

"You don't have to be a guide to find someone to bond to. It happens when you least expect it." Jenna noticed the far off look in Dana's eyes. "Whether that bond develops as brotherly or romantic love, it holds you tight. It makes you want to work things out no matter how tense it might get. Because in the end, that one special person is worth the struggle and the danger."

"Maybe being a guide isn't so hard to understand," Scully admitted slowly. "But that doesn't mean I condone you harboring a fugitive."

"The Leonard Brackett that you knew is dead," Jenna stated. "Like you said, he disappeared from the government's records. How can you harbor a man that doesn't exist? The moment he chose to live, he became a different man. Yes he is still a dangerous man, and yes he could turn back to his old life. But I honestly believe that he gave that up a long time ago."

"I hope you're right. For your own sake." Scully replied

"Right. Thanks guys." Mulder snapped the cell phone shut. "We've got three possible sites but only one rumored to be located inside a mountain."

"That's good, we won't have to be running all over the place trying to find them," Simon said.

"Not so great. This base is rumored to be located inside Mt. Rainier."

"The volcano?" Brown exclaimed. "Who in their right minds would do something like that?"

"Actually, there is a good chance that information is correct," Brackett said thoughtfully.

"How would you know?" Simon demanded.

"I stole and sold a set of plans for an underground complex, the specs showed that it would get its energy from a local geothermal source." Brackett shrugged. "The plans were over fifty years old, I doubt anyone even realized they were missing."

"I'm not even going to ask," Brown commented dryly. "I'm starting to get paranoid."

Mulder turned to look him straight in the eye, "Paranoia is how I've stayed alive for the past few years."

"Like I said, I don't want to know."

"Then maybe you should stay behind," Brackett replied sharply. "Because what we are up against is going to shatter some of your preconceived notions of the benevolence of our government. Captain Banks,

we are going to need a helicopter and a great deal of firepower. I'll supply a list of what I need." He stalked out of the room and back to his guide.

"Your just gonna let him order you around?" Brown asked the captain.

"Sentinel or not I still don't trust him that much, but he has had more training in this sort of operation then any of us." Simon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And as much as I hate to admit it, we need him."

"I'll see if I can get us a chopper," Brown offered reluctantly. "The sooner we find Jim and Hairboy, the sooner we can lose Brackett and his girlfriend."

When Duncan Macleod arrived at the Cascade P.D. he stared up at the building for a long moment. There was a strange feeling in his stomach that he'd had since he got off the phone with Methos. He knew it was from the idea of meeting a Watchman. They were part of most cultural legends, but he had never actually met one. His father had told him of a time long ago when there had been a Watchman in every tribe, they would guard the boundaries of the clan lands and watch for Roman soldiers. Or at least that was the legend in the Macleod Clan.

The desk sergeant handed him a pass and waved him toward the elevators when he explained who he was. He road up the elevator right into the buzz of another immortal. He tensed instinctively, but relaxed when he reasoned that even if an enemy might be nearby they wouldn't try anything in a police station.

As the doors opened he saw Methos and Rafe standing nearby. While Methos was in his usual casual clothing, Rafe was dressed in all black fatigues, tough looking boots and a black hat on his head. Duncan suddenly realized that his ancient friend was holding identical clothes in his hands.

"Why do I get the impression that I don't want to know what's going on?" he asked as he approached.

"You're right, you don't want to know," Methos said seriously as he and Johan escorted him into the bullpen.

"Stephen," Rafe called to the younger Ellison. "This is Duncan Macleod. Duncan, this is Stephen Ellison." As the two men shook hands Rafe continued. "Duncan is going to be your bodyguard until we get back."

"Exactly where are you going?" Duncan asked.

Methos looked at his Scottish friend for a long moment. "Into the fires of hell, my friend."

Rafe said to both men, "We'll call as soon as we can. We've also made arrangements for constant patrols at your condo and at the race track. That should give you some warning at least if anyone comes for you."

"What kind of threat are we talking here?" Duncan asked.

"Think of them as Hunters," Methos said. " but they'll be hunting for Stephen, and they won't be expecting you."

Mulder came around the corner just then holding two gas masks. "Is this the guy you've been waiting for?"

"Yes, Agent Mulder. This is Duncan Macleod," Rafe explained.

"Good, these are for you two," Mulder stated handing the masks to Stephen and Duncan.

"What for?" Duncan asked, turning it over in his hand.

"One of the people that might come after Stephen is different then anything you've ever encountered. A shape-shifter, if you break the guy's skin, he bleeds toxic green blood that kills anyone that breathes the fumes if exposed too long. If you get attacked keep these handy, they're the only way to survive."

Stephen blanched, "Please tell me this is some sort of bad dream and I'll wake up in my bed any minute."

"If only that were true," Mulder replied softly. "Now Simon said the helicopter will be here in a few minutes. So I suggest, Adam, that you get into that gear and get ready to move."

"Where are you going?" Duncan asked now more concerned than before.

"They're going to find my brother and his partner," Stephen replied as though it answered everything. "Good luck all of you." He shook hands with them. The three men turned and headed for the stairs.

Duncan looked at Stephen for a moment, "So what's your schedule?"

Stephen pursed his lips, then checked his watch. "I've got a meeting at the track, with the managers in about two hours. We should be able to get there in time if we leave now."

"Let's get going then." Duncan motioned for Stephen to proceed.

When Methos, Rafe, and Mulder reached the roof, the rest of the group was already gathered there. Scully, Brown, and Two-feathers were checking the bags of equipment while Brackett, Banks, and Spring were having a heated discussion on the other side of the helopad.

"What's going on over there?" Mulder asked his partner.

"Charlie wants to come along," Scully explained. "Neither Banks nor Brackett want him to. I have to agree with them. He has no training in this sort of thing. He'll be a liability."

"He could be very useful in helping locate Ellison and Sandburg though," Mulder said thoughtfully.

"Fox, I love you, but you are out of you mind." Scully sighed. "It's bad enough that Jenna is coming along on this trip."

"I can take care of myself very well, thank you," Jenna called from a few yards away.

"The only reason I'm not fighting tooth and nail to keep you out of this is because you are Brackett's Guide." Scully turned to face her. "And none of us know how to handle a zone out. You have no idea the danger we are walking into."

"Maybe not, but as I said to you before. I'm his partner. Where he goes I go." She looked away from the agent to see a helicopter approaching. "Looks like our ride is here."

"I'm coming with you and that's final," Charlie stated. Although he was trying to convey seriousness, he was looking more like a petulant child.

"Charlie, there is no way in hell I'm going to let you get in the chopper when it arrives," Simon asserted, using his considerable height to his full advantage. "You are a civilian, untrained and uniquely unqualified to be on this mission."

"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even know where to look," Charlie shot back. "What if they are moved while you're on your way to save them? How will you find them then? You need me!"

"Let him come," Brackett said with a sigh.

"What?" Simon spun to look at the ex-CIA agent in disbelief.

"If he gets in the way, we tie him up and leave him someplace safe until it's over." Lee smiled evilly.

Simon tilted his head thoughtfully, a glint of amusement in his eyes for the first time in what felt like days. "Fine, but when this is all over, just remember where you stashed him."

Lee looked up at the chopper that he had heard coming for several minutes. "Nice aircraft there Banks," he commented as the Bell 230 lowered its landing gear and landed softly on the pad.

"Brown had some trouble getting the kind we needed so I called in a few favors," Simon explained. "We can have it as long as we need it."

"Lets hope this doesn't take too long then," Lee said. "I wouldn't want to get used to a nice piece of equipment like that." He headed toward the pile of equipment to help load the bags.

Lee climbed into the copilot seat and strapped himself in. The pilot turned and asked, "So where too?"

Lee pulled out the navigational charts and began to tap numbers into the autopilot. "Get us to cruising altitude and engage the auto pilot. Tell the flight controllers that we are heading to Portland, Oregon."

"Where are we actually going?" he asked apprehensively.

"You'll know when we get there."

Jim paced the length of the cell, giving the impression of a caged panther. His irritation level was at an all time high and it was all due to their captors. The men in this facility had finally decided to test Jim's abilities, and what was worse was they were doing it remotely.

"Dial them all down man, as far as you can," Blair instructed calmly, knowing that if he let himself get as agitated as Jim, he would be worthless. "They've been starting each new test at regular intervals; just don't give them anything to work with."

"I can't keep them down permanently, Chief," Jim replied, rubbing his ears absently. "I'll be useless if I do."

"It seems like they are testing each of your senses," Blair concluded. "The only one they haven't done yet is taste. Thankfully they haven't tried to do anything dangerous."

"Yet," Jim added. "I get the feeling this is just the beginning."

"Is there something else going on that you aren't telling me about?" Blair asked cautiously.

Jim regarded his partner for a moment then stood next to him, their proximity making it easier to use the bond.//It's weird, you know how Gary taught us about geological pressures building up under the earth?//

Blair nodded.

//Well I'm getting the same feelings here. Only worse.//

//Worse how?// Blair asked

//It's like someone opened the gates to a damn to let the excess water out, only the pressure isn't released. It's only been postponed for a short time.//

The sound of the door opening caught both their attention. Two security guards dressed in black, and the two scientists entered the room. Blair stood quickly, placing himself in front of Jim. His face was full of fury.

"I don't know what you people think you are doing, but making us play lab rat to your studies isn't going to get you anywhere," the anthropologist said firmly.

"Mr. Sandburg, we are conducting important research. Surely as a scientist you can understand that a full and thorough examination of the test subjects is required." Dr. Havelock said.

"Well your scientific method may be sound in the eyes of science, but your bed side manner sucks." Blair shot back.

"I read your early work, Mr. Sandburg." Havelock said calmly. "You are naive if you think that creatures such as yourself and Mr. Ellison are a part of the proper order of things."

Jim saw his partner go rigid. It wasn't often Blair was pissed off, but this guy was stomping on Blair's life's work. He desperately wanted to calm Blair down, but there was no way he was going to let that withered old husk get the last word in.

"And exactly what is your place in this order you speak of, Doctor?" Blair asked coldly.

"I and my colleagues have the responsibility to make sure that the purity of the human race is stabilized. Which is why you have been contained. You and those like you are a threat to the genetic purity we have been striving for."

"So what happens when you are done with us?" Jim asked. "Assuming we are a threat."

"You are scheduled to be terminated in less than forty-eight hours," the woman said without emotion as she made notations on her chart. "It would be a waste of scientific data if we learn nothing in the time allotted to us."

Blair stared at her for a long moment; she looked up, feeling the unwelcome pressure of his eyes. "How can you talk about murdering us as casually as though you were talking about golf scores?" he demanded. "We are human beings, not microbes on some petri-dish." He felt a strong sense of satisfaction when the woman turned away, uncertainty clouding her eyes.

His hopes were dashed when she turned back a fierce determination in her eyes. "You and your partner are a dangerous anomaly, a threat to the human race as well as all we have worked for. By definition you are an aberration to be studied and discarded when we are through with you."

"We are a threat to no one. Sentinels and Guides have been around since the beginning of human history," Blair countered, feeling the strength of his convictions. "It's only been in the last hundred years that mentions of them have vanished."

"Yes, yes. Work well done," Havelock waved his hand dismissively. "You would be--"

"Work? You did that? You eradicated hundreds of people? Destroyed the history of the Sentinels from the collective consciousness of the planet? Who in hell gave you the right?" Blair growled.

"Who and why is not the important thing. The data and the integrity of our methods are."

"As you pointed out before," Blair began softly, his body vibrating tension. "I too am a scientist, but I am also a shaman. I have duties that have precedence over scientific theory. If you had even a hint of spiritual awareness you would know that what you are doing here is the
aberration." Blair lunged for the doctor gabbing the lapel of his lab coat. "Life is a circle, Doctor. If you think you can do what you have done here and not pay a heavy price, then you are a fool."

The doctor's eyes widened with fear at the sudden attack. The guards moved in quickly to pull them apart, only to find one pissed off sentinel in the way. The struggle lasted only a few minutes, leaving one guard dead, his neck snapped like a twig. The other was unconscious with a broken arm. Blair had quickly subdued the doctor, with a swift punch to the face. The assistant was cowering in the far corner of the room.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked as he pulled weapons off of the guards' bodies.

"I'm fine, Jim." Blair glanced at the unconcious doctor. "I just want out of here."

"We're going." Jim moved toward the woman. She shrank as he reached for her. With cold eyes he jerked her to her feet. "You are going to show us the way out of here. 'Cause if you don't you'll wish that you had found another line of work."

Blair opened his mouth to admonish Jim for the threat, but stopped himself. They had to get out fast, and she was their ticket. For better or worse they needed someone to show them the way out.

As they exited the room Jim scanned around for signs of pursuit. "Where is everyone?" he asked.

"W-we only have a small group of guards," she stammered. "Most of them went out to retrieve the control subject we needed. There are only four left in the facility."

Jim monitored her responses; while her heart was beating fast there was no sign of deceit to her. She was terrified of them, but he refused to let himself feel guilty. She would not think twice about terminating Blair or himself once the studies were done. "I want you to lead us to the exit. Now!"

Jim placed a hand on Blair's shoulder. //Good work partner, now we just have to get out of here in one piece.//

Blair glanced at the woman, //I think we should take her with us when we leave. There's something about her that seems familiar, but I can't place it.//

//I know what you mean, but she might have something to say about that.// Taking a firmer hold of the woman, they moved quickly down the hallway.

Brackett found himself in a remote forest; a coyote stood before him with eyes too intelligent to belong to an animal. It turned and ran off into the underbrush, Lee followed without a second thought. He crashed through the brambles to find a clearing; the coyote transformed into the semblance of Jenna's Grandfather.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

"The time of choosing comes for each of us at different times. You must make a choice now."

"What kind of choice?"

"To look upon your sentinel abilities an obligation or to accept the power you have as a gift to one worthy of them."

"I don't understand," Lee said in confusion.

"You need to look beyond the guilt of your past. When this moment in time is done, what will you do? Will you be the man you were or the man that you are becoming?"

"How can I know which way to go?"

"Listen to the sound of your heart. You hid from it for so long, it now speaks though the voice of another. Listen and it will guide you."

Lee woke abruptly, startled to see he was still strapped into the copilot's seat in the helicopter. From behind him a slender hand touched his shoulder. He smiled as he glanced behind to see Jenna's concerned look. He grasped her hand for a moment, his thumb caressing her fingers.

"You went for a walk didn't you?" she asked with knowing eyes. Her voice was only loud enough for him to hear.

He arched his brows inquisitively. How did she know this?

She smiled at his expression, "Simon's been trying to get your attention. He thought you were zoned-out, so I checked. I told him you were sleeping. It's not a lie, just not the whole truth."

Lee rolled his eyes at her. "I'm awake Banks, what's going on?" he said into his headset.

"How long do you estimate before we reach the target zone?"

Lee glanced at his watch, then at the terrain that was passing them. They were in the mountains now. "Not long." He sat up straighter in his seat. Looking over at the pilot he said, "I'm taking over from here. I suggest you take a nap."

"If you say so, buddy." The pilot took his hands away from the controls. "But if you scratch this puppy, I'm not taking the heat."

Lee smiled evilly, then he flipped off the autopilot and dove the copter down under the radar nets. "Just sit back and leave it to me." He wove the copter through the valleys of the rocky mountains at nearly top speed.

"Brackett, what the hell are you doing?" Simon bellowed, making everyone jump.

"We have to approach under the radar nets, otherwise they'll know we're coming long before we get there.

"Well just try to stay above the trees. I've got a bad history with copters." Simon gripped the seat.

"I'll try to keep that in mind, Captain," Lee replied.

"This is Golden Sunrise, she's going to be retired in a few months." Stephen explained as he took Duncan through a tour of the stables. "And this one here is Little Stogie, Captain Banks and some of the other officers own him."

"He's a fine looking animal," Duncan said as he looked the thoroughbred over. "What's that plaque on the wall for?"

Stephen chuckled, "Jim received the city's Police Officer of the Year Award. He's always hated that sort of thing, so he gave it to Stogie. I guess Jim figured since he put Stogie through a hell of a workout trying to catch a killer, the horse deserved a reward."

"So he give a horse his own award." Duncan shook his head. "Your brother seems like an interesting man."

"I'm learning slowly that he is just that," Stephen sighed.

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

"We had a falling out a long time ago, hadn't talked to one another for years." Stephen shook his head. "Not even after he came back from being MIA in Peru for over a year."

"Why not?" Duncan asked gently. He had the feeling that this young man needed to get something off his chest. The Scotsman didn't mind and it might help some.

"When I learned of Jim's disappearance, I thought I'd lost him forever. I hated him for not giving me the chance to... well, lets just say we parted under less than ideal circumstances." Stephen sat down on a pile of hay bales. "I was in Hong Kong when he was found. I have a copy of the Newsweek magazine. He looked so lost in that picture, ya know. I wanted to run to him and tell him... things. But I couldn't get away. Then when I got back to the States, I couldn't get up the nerve to see him. Time just got away from me. Suddenly it was six years later and Jim was at a banquet being held here at the track."

Duncan leaned on one of the stable doors. "So you two are back talking now?"

"Yep, not a whole lot. Both of our schedules are hectic, but we keep in touch now." Stephen dropped his head into his hands. "I don't want to lose him again."

Any response Duncan would have given was cut off by the panicked scream of one of the horses in the next barn. Macleod glanced around quickly assessing their situation. "Come on. We're too exposed here."

They ran down toward the track offices. Duncan drew his sword, from his jacket, keeping the business man in front of him. They stopped at the open area between the grandstand and the stables. The sounds of pursuit came from in front and behind.

"Okay, now what?" Stephen asked, trying not to stare at the nearly three feet worth of blade resting in the other man's hand.

"We back track. You go find a place to hide in the stables. I'll see what I can do about these guys." They separated, Duncan making a great deal of noise as he ran, trying to draw the hunters to him. Stephen did his best to stay quiet, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.

Duncan found it quite easy to take down the first man. The soldier wasn't expecting his target to be armed. Duncan ran the blade through the man's chest as he rounded the corner. He stripped the body of weapons, noting that the rifle fired darts instead of bullets, but the pistol was loaded with Black Talon rounds. //They want Stephen alive, but they plan on taking anyone else out of the picture. Why doesn't that make me feel any better?//

Stephen made it to one of the less used areas of the stables, he ducked into an unused paddock and backed into the corner. As an afterthought he placed the gas mask over his head. The FBI agent wouldn't have given it to him if he had thought there wasn't a need. Any degree of foolishness he might have felt for donning the mask was overridden by remembering Mulder's seriousness. //These are the men that have Jim? What could they want him for? Why are they after me now?//

He slid down the wall to sit on the hay covered ground, only to yelp as he nearly impaled himself on a pitchfork. He knelt down, lifted it out of the hay, and held it in a protective stance. He moved to peek out of the paddock, listening carefully. He couldn't hear anything.

Gun shots rang out at the far end of the stables. Dozens of horses cried out, drowning out anything else.

After what seemed like hours, Stephen slid quietly out of the paddock, hoping to get some idea of what was going on. He froze in terror as a figure stepped into the long hall. For just a moment Stephen relaxed when her recognized one of the stable hands. That quickly changed when all the horses shied away from the him as he walked down the rows.

"Mr. Ellison, I need you to come with me," he said, an incredibly intense look on his face.

Stephen backed away brandishing the pitchfork in front of him. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"It will be easier if you just give up, and come quietly. T> 

Transfer interrupted!

"Then where are the rest of your men?" Stephen asked defiantly, not wanting to believe what he had been told.

"They didn't make it," Duncan said from just behind the stable hand. Stephen gasped as he saw the amount of blood covering him. His shirt was torn, three bullet holes showing prominently.

The Alien Bounty Hunter was so shocked he lost his disguise and shifted back to the square jawed appearance. He gained several inches in bulk and height. "You were dead!"

"I got better," Duncan smiled. With a single swipe of his blade, he removed the head of the creature. Green blood sprayed and bubbled from the severed ends. Stephen watched in horror as the few horses around them flew into a panic then dropped to the ground dead. Duncan staggered away clutching at his throat, gasping for air. Stephen didn't hesitate as he gathered the immortal into an awkward fireman's carry. He made his way to the stadium trying not to look at the bodies that seemed to litter the stable area.

He made it to the track's infirmary, dropping the Scotsman on the nearest cot. He took a look at the man that saved his life, and realized he wasn't breathing. He checked for a pulse, nothing. The vison of the horses dying washed over him. He pulled off the mask, trying to remember how to properly do CPR from the class he had taken years ago.

In his present state the sudden gasp of air from Duncan sent him jumping nearly a foot. "Macleod?" he asked.

Duncan coughed harshly; the feel of his lungs still repairing themselves was not something he wanted to repeat. The memory of what had killed him came back. "God, what the hell was that thing?" he rasped.

"You were dead," Stephen managed to say.

"I'll tell you all about it, later. Right now we need to get the police over here and Haz-Mat. And I need some help getting the bullets removed."

Stephen nodded, not sure what was real anymore, but willing to take Duncan's orders until he could get his mind around what had just happened.

The helicopter touched down in a clearing just large enough for it, about a mile from the south-east slope of Mt. Rainier. The men and women disembarked quickly, the bags of equipment slung over their shoulders.

Lee checked the position of the sun, then turned to the pilot. "We are going to be gone for a while, if anyone spots you tell them you are part of a geological survey, or a tour guide getting paid a big bonus for waiting here for some rich clients."

"You just want me to wait here?" he asked incredulously.

"You got a problem with that?" There was a cold light in Brackett's eyes.

"No, no problem."

"Good, if we aren't back by midday tomorrow, then we probably aren't coming back," Lee said hefting his pack. "If you leave before then, I'll find you." Seeing the pilot was properly intimidated, he turned to join the rest of the group. He stopped mid-stride to stare at Rafe and Methos, who were strapping swords on along with the rest of their gear.

It was obvious that the rest of those assembled were just as thrown by this, although it looked as though Scully and Mulder were taking it better then the rest of them.

"So, partner," Brown said finally. "Would you mind telling me what the fancy cutlery is all about?"

Johan smiled apologetically, "I'll tell you about it later."

"No. You'll explain it now," Simon ordered. "I've had enough of having to deal with secrets."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to learn to live with not getting your way," Methos shot back. "You may be Johan's boss, but in this you have no jurisdiction." Banks towered over him as they locked gazes.

"We don't have time for this," Scully reminded them all. "If we survive this day in one piece then we'll have a coming out party and tell each other are deepest darkest secrets. Right now we have a hell of a climb ahead of us."

"Scully's right," Brackett agreed. "We've got a lot of ground to cover, so I suggest that we get moving."

"Hey, hey. I'm getting something," Charlie said quickly. His eyes were closed as he tried to make the image clearer. "They're moving. They got out of the room they were in and they're moving."

"Are you sure?" Simon asked.

Charlie's eyes shot open and he gasped, clutching his head.

"Are you okay?" Mulder asked, holding him steady.

"Anger, they're both so angry," he shook himself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Can you find us a way in?" Scully asked, gazing up at the enormous volcano.

Charlie shook his head, "I'm not getting anything like that. We're close though. I can feel it."

Two-feathers turned to Brackett, "I think you can find a way in."

Lee looked at his guide skeptically. "How?"

"Open your senses, find what doesn't belong in this natural setting."

"Come on," Simon scoffed. "Even Jim couldn't do that."

Jenna spun on the captain. "I've had enough out of you," she spat. "Is this what Ellison and Sandburg have to go through all the time? Do you have any real idea what a Sentinel is capable of? They can do amazing things especially when they have the confidence of their tribe behind them. Now be quiet and let us work."

Simon pulled himself to his full height and glared at the young woman with a barely contained anger. Methos saw his face and pulled him away from the pair bodily. Simon turned his outraged gaze at the immortal, to find a frightening gaze returned.

"You listen to me," Methos hissed. "What they do, is the hardest job in the world. They must trust their partner beyond all others. Do you think that is easy? Do you think you could unlearn a lifetime of behavior in a few short weeks for the sake of another? Do you think you could handle the pressures of your job as a police officer on top of that? I think you should get it through your head that you are not in charge of this rescue."

When Simon didn't answer he continued, "I've seen Sentinels go slowly insane because society could not understand what they were. Guides burned at the stake for their 'unnatural' attachment to their partners. If you think for one minute that I'm going to let the first two pairings in over fifty years be disrespected because you do not understand their nature, you have another thing coming." Simon couldn't hold Methos gaze; he looked out to the distant mountains around them.

Jenna ignored those around her, focusing solely on her Sentinel. Softly she talked Brackett through a relaxation exercise. She smiled as he responded easily, then had him expand his sensory range smell and hearing mostly, then allowing him to open his tactile sense, combining them to sweep the area around them. "Find the things that don't belong. Ignore the helicopter and the people around you. What else can you sense?"

"Pressure. Too much pressure, pushing at the earth, something is holding it back," Lee said softly, his head titled questioningly.

"Go past that, look beyond it."

"Machines, pumping, sounds like a ventilation system." Lee opened his senses wider to follow the sound. It felt as though he were floating toward it, beyond it he heard the sounds of feet running. A claxon sounded shocking him back to his body. "Shit! That hurt!" he clamped his hands over his ears.

Jenna put her hands on his shoulders, tilting his face to force him to look at her. Lee opened his eyes slowly, letting her touch calm his senses. "Relax, just let the pain flow into the ground. That's it. Good." Jenna smiled softly at him. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, did you get all that?" he asked.

"All but the where," she replied. "Which way?"

Lee spun around and pointed toward the northwest. He grabbed his pack and started to walk swiftly. For a moment the rest of the team stared after him, then followed. "We have to hurry, whoever is running that place knows they are free."

Cancerman stared at the security cameras in disbelief; Ellison and Sandburg were free. His hand trembled slightly at the sight of the two men running down the hall, dragging the lab tech with them. The motion sensors in the monitors kept them in view almost constantly.

He had just received very disturbing news from one of his agents that was on the retrieval operation. The Alien was dead, along with all of the other men in the unit. Killed by a man with a sword, that somehow survived the deadly gasses that erupted from the alien upon his death.

The head of his security team stood next to him shaking his head in disgust. "I warned that old fool not to go in there without proper guards, but he didn't listen. Kept going on about no time left for delays. I went to use the bathroom and this happens. Now I've got one man dead, another wounded, and Havelock screaming about his assistant."

"How long before you get reinforcements?" Cancerman asked.

"They're flying in from Seattle now, sir," he replied. "But they won't get here for at least three hours."

"The odds of them escaping before then?"

"About twenty percent if they were normal people," the guard replied. "But Ellison is a trained Army Ranger and as Havelock said, a Sentinel. I'd give them a ninety percent chance of finding a way out."

"Then I suggest you find a way to stop them," Cancerman said with a calm he didn't feel.

"With all due respect, sir. There is no way in hell I'm going to go out there with only two men."

"You think you'll stand a better chance with me if they get away?" Cancerman warned. "We are out of time. Eliminate them, but do not hurt the woman. She is too valuable to be lost."

"Yes, sir," he said, eyes cold.

The claxon sounded as they rounded the second turn in what seemed like an endless maze of corridors. Jim had been monitoring for any sign of pursuit and was caught off guard. "Damn it!" He released his hold on the woman, clamping his hands over his ears.

"Jim, are you okay?" Blair asked quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine."

Blair grimaced when he saw the woman run away from them. She didn't get very far, as he chased after her and tackled her to the ground.

"Let me go!" she cried, struggling.

If it had been a few years ago, she might have been able to break the anthropologist's hold. Not now; he had been working out on occasion with his partner, increasing his strength and endurance. That plus the rage inside him held her down easily.

"Listen to me lady," he growled. "You are not going anywhere, yet. You and your people have seriously pissed me off. I swear as much as I hate violence I will gladly punch you in the face if you don't stop struggling."

She stopped and looked at the angry man holding her down. "I've read that it is the nature of your kind to be violent. Why should I expect you to be any different?"

"I don't know what you've read, but most violence in sentinels and guides stems from the need to protect their people," Blair said quietly. He slowly stood letting her see that he was watching her. "But you wouldn't know that would you? The only data you would have access to is what is in the facility."

She stood slowly, trying to gage if he would actually chase her again. "I've read all the research pertaining to this genetic weakness that used to plague humans. Your dependence on one another is a flaw. Humans don't have need for that kind of... bonding."

Blair looked down the corridor, where Jim had recovered from the shock. "I don't have the time nor the inclination to explain it to you. Now show us the way out." He pushed her roughly, inwardly cringing at his own demeanor.

Jim arched an eyebrow at him. //Nice tackle, Chief. Can I sign you up for the department football team?//

//Very funny,// Blair smiled at his partner's attempt at levity. //Maybe there's some kind of emergency exit to this place.//

//Good idea,// Jim turned to the woman. "Now that you've had your little run, there has to be an emergency exit. Tell us where it is."

The woman, realized that she wouldn't be able to lie to these men. With a sigh she said, "There is an air vent at the end of this corridor. It leads directly to a dormant lava tube that leads outside."

"How do you know?" Blair asked as they moved quickly toward their destination.

"I was allowed to see the plans of this facility once as a test," she shrugged. "It was a while ago, but I still remember. They said I have an eidetic memory."

Blair shot Jim a look then asked, "What's your name?"

Totally thrown by the personal question she answered without thinking. "Samantha Mulder."

Jim's face became an unreadable mask. What were the chances that the names were a coincidence? Before he could ask anything, the sound of pursuit reached his ears. "We've got company."

Brackett led the team about a half mile up the hill to what looked like a patch of brambles. He looked inside and saw a large grate. "There it is folks."

"Wonderful, how are we supposed to get through that?" Henry asked.

"Well, I haven't had to use a sword to cut through brush in a while," Methos said, drawing his weapon from its sheath and beginning to hack away at the brambles.

Johan did the same, swiftly cutting a large swath away from the vent. "I'll have to add this to the list of things swords are good for," he said.

Brown, Mulder, and Banks wrenched the grate off from where it seemed to be laying on the mountain side. It was wide enough inside for a large man to stand slightly crouched. There was a slight sulfurous smell to the air.

Lee led the way, opening his sight to let more light in. Jenna was barely a step behind, keeping him only a few inches ahead of her. Rafe, Brown, and Spring offered to guard the vent, in case they were discovered.

"I feel like I'm in the movie Aliens," Jenna commented.

"Yeah well these aliens look kind of like us," Mulder said. "Just keep those masks handy."

Lee stopped, tilted his head, and listened. "I hear gun shots. Come on, hurry."

The tunnel seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning. They passed a hot spot in the stone that seemed to be coming from the earth itself. Lee kept going, through several intersections, unerringly heading toward the sounds of battle. When they reached the end Simon gasped in relief as he saw Jim, Blair, and some woman crouched against the wall. Jim was holding a gun; every few moments he would reach around the corner of the hallway they were in and fire a shot.

Jim heard movement in the air vent, the familiar scent of cigars and a gasp told him all he needed to know. //Chief, you won't believe this, but the cavalry just arrived.//

//What?// Blair turned to stare at the air vent, which was situated about five feet up the wall, just in time to see it kicked open. Mulder and Simon jumped out at once followed closely by Scully. They pulled their weapons, to give them cover fire. "Simon?! Holy shit!!" Blair's face erupted into the brightest smile that Jim or anyone had ever seen. "How did you find us?"

"You'll never believe it," Simon said, as he fired around the corner.

Fox looked down to watch his partner assess both Blair's and Jim's condition and saw the woman with them. She looked like one of the clones he had met. His eyes widened, a tremble in his hands became visible. "S-samantha?"he asked in a small voice.

The woman looked at him, startled. "Who are you?" she asked. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm your brother, Fox," he said. "Don't you remember me?"

"That can't be." She shook her head. "They said he was dead."

Methos stuck his head out of the vent, "I'm sure you're having a lovely family reunion here, but now is not the time." He reached out, to offer help getting back in the vent.

Blair went first, climbing in quickly. Two more pairs of hands grabbed him to pull him further in. They were connected to a woman he'd never seen before and Lee Brackett. Blair yelped and jumped back knocking into Methos.

"Nice to see you too, Sandburg," Lee couldn't quite suppress a smirk.

"It's alright," Methos reassured him."We'll tell you the whole story when we get out of here."

Jim grabbed Samantha and dragged her to the vent. "In you go."

"You said you'd let me go," she protested.

"I lied," Jim said. "Now get in there or I'll knock you out and carry you."

Seeing how serious Jim was, she swallowed her protest and clamber into the vent. Mulder shot Jim a concerned look, who motioned to indicate that now was not the time. Jim climbed in after Scully, he was followed by Banks, Mulder brought up the rear.

Jim having heard his guide's distressed yelp, and the words that followed was not nearly so startled to see Brackett. He took one look at the ex-CIA agent and saw a coyote sitting at his feet. "I'm not gonna even ask," he muttered.

"You'll just love it when I tell you though," Brackett replied, knowing he normally wouldn't have heard him. Jim shot him a surprised look and Lee smiled.

"Brackett, get us out of here," Simon ordered, exasperated.

Blair climbed out of the dark vent into the last light of dusk. The sky to the west, was a deep reddish-brown color, promising warm weather the next day. The relief of that first breath of fresh air in... Had it only been a day? It felt like forever. That breath had been wonderful. Until he looked into the sky directly above him to see a ship hanging above the volcano. The men and women around him followed his gaze and stared up in
horrified wonder.

Rafe looked at them with a feeling of helplessness. "It's got to be a mile across. How the hell do we fight something like that?"

"You don't," A voice said a few yards away.

Mulder turned, his eyes full of rage at the sight of Cancerman. "You bastard, you took my sister from me. You killed my father, now what are you going to do?"

"You have no idea the power of these beings. They have promised to share it when they are established here." He pulled out a cigaret and lit it. "Our failure to eliminate Ellison and those like him have forced them to take action. They will cleanse the area of humans to ensure the security of their plan."

"How big of an area?" Scully asked, afraid of the answer.

"The state of Washington, maybe a bit more." Cancerman shrugged. "Not that it will matter to you anymore. I would suggest that those still in the tunnel come out now."

Lee came out, Jenna a step behind him. He pulled himself to his full height and glared at his former tormentor.

The cool exterior of Cancerman shattered when he saw him. "You were dead."

Lee's smile was deadly, "The reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

"No matter, you fools will be dealt with."

As this unfolded around them Jim and Blair both saw the panther appear before them. His golden eyes shone with intelligence. In those eyes was a plea, one that neither of them could refuse.

//Shaman, I need your help,// he said. //Sentinel, guard your guide.//

Blair stepped forward his hands spread in acceptance. Jim placed his hands on Blair's shoulders as he stood behind his guide.

The panther ran toward them and leapt. As Blair's body absorbed the spirit, his whole body convulsed, then slumped forward. Jim supported his weight, until he stood on his own again. His head was bowed, hair hiding his face.

"Chief?" Jim asked cautiously, feeling the bond they shared surge with energy.

//He is safe,// said a voice softly as the younger man lifted his head. Jim gasped as Blair turned to look at him; instead of deep blue eyes, Jim saw golden ones. "I have need of him, he has agreed. He will be safe, as will you all. Coyote will see to that." He turned to Cancerman, drawing himself to is full height, an air of defiance and power emanating from him.

"It is you who are the fool," Blair's voice boomed out of him with an unearthly force. Everyone around him jumped, Jim kept by his side. "Did you really think that you could eliminate those born to protect? Did you think that we would just stand back and let you do this? There are powers that you failed to take into account, things that all your science has no knowledge of." With each sentence Blair/Panther took a step forward, his hair seeming to rustle in a nonexistent wind.

"What's going on?" Simon whispered.

"I've got no idea, but since when does Sandburg have yellow eyes?" Brown replied.

"Somehow I doubt that we're seeing just Sandburg anymore," Mulder said.

"We, the Guardians of this world, will not go quietly into the night." Blair/Panther turned to Methos. "Ancient One, you swore once to try to atone for your past. We ask that you do so now."

"You won't get the chance. I've invested too much for this to end now." In a single motion Cancerman pulled a pistol out of his jacket, aimed, and fired at the anthropologist.

Rafe saw the movement, before anyone else could react. He jumped into the path of the bullet, taking it squarely in the chest.

"Johan!" Henry exclaimed in horror.

He and Simon fired their weapons at Cancerman at the same time. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Scully ran to check the young detectives vitals, there was no pulse. The bullet had torn a gaping wound in his chest. She looked into the eyes of her partner, who knelt beside her, and shook her head.

"No, man. He can't be dead," Brown said, his voice cracked with grief.

"Your friend will be well, as with all his kind, death is not so permanent a thing," Blair/Panther said with confidence.

Brown glared at him, his body rigidly hostile. "Sandburg, you've lost your mind. He saved your life and all you do is stand there." He moved toward the young guide menacingly.

Jim stepped into Henry's way. "Back away, Brown. I don't want to hurt you, but if you try to touch Blair I will."

Brown stared at his co-worker. The hostility emanating from Ellison shocked him out of his own anger. That shock increased when Jim without turning back placed a hand on his guide's shoulder, his bright blue eye taking on a golden tint. Brown backed away, uncertain of what to think any more.

Blair/Panther turned from the confrontation to look at Methos again. "We need your help."

Methos stared at him for a moment, then walked over to stand next to the two men. "What must I do?"

Blair/Panther reached out and took his hand. "They have created a power shunt, to keep Grandfather from speaking." He turned his gaze to the darkening face of Mt. Rainier. "He should have answered when Little Sister spoke, many seasons ago. We must help him."

As he turned his attention back to Blair, Jim heard Brown ask, "Who is the Little Sister?"

"Mt. St. Helens," Jenna replied. "Grandfather is Mt. Rainier. The legends say that after she goes, Rainier is soon to follow. But while there has been some activity none of the shamans could understand why it hadn't blown yet."

"In case you didn't notice," Dana stated nervously. "We are standing on the old guy."

Jenna gripped Lee's hand tightly. "Believe me, Agent Scully, I know."

Lee felt a presence at his side, looking down he saw the coyote. //You must lead your companions to the flying machine,// he said.

"What about Ellison and Sandburg? We came this way to save them."

//That you have done. Now they must do what they must to protect the Tribe.// The coyote dashed off in the direction of the copter.

Brackett grabbed Scully's arm and called out. "We have to get out of here. Now."

She looked up at him incredulously, "What about Jim and Blair?"

"Don't argue with me," he snapped. "Move! Would you rather die when the mountain blows?"

That got everyone's attention. Mulder released the quick clips that attached the equipment from Rafe's body, leaving only the sword. He grabbed the body and hoisted it over his shoulder. "I've got him. Dana grab Sam and lets get out of here."

"They can't make a mountain erupt," Simon asserted.

"Ellison and Sandburg can't, but a Sentinel and Shaman bonded pair, with the help of their spirit guide can," Jenna explained, now also pushing the rest of the group.

Charlie stood frozen in a psychic form of zone-out, unable to comprehend the amount of energy he could sense moving. Blair/Panther sensed him and turned. //Your debt is paid, little spirit. Go in peace,// he said. Charlie blinked awake, took in the scene before him and ran after the retreating group.

Jim held on to Blair with a tight grip. Part of it was the need to feel him close, the other was to keep himself from running. He had never been so scared in his life as when those blue eyes of his guide changed to gold. He knew that Blair was safe in an instinctual sense, but the logical modern man didn't want to believe in what he was seeing and feeling.

//Jim,// Blair's inner voice called to him. //I'm okay, Shadow has shown me what we need to do.//

//I'm scared,// Jim admitted.

//I am too,// Blair replied. //Don't let go, please. I need you to ground me.//

//I'm not letting go of you. Not ever,// Jim asserted.

Blair/Panther beckoned Methos to help them, who stepped forward until they were mere inches apart. He took the immortal's hand and spoke to all of them. Blair, though it was his voice speaking, listened as well.

"Listen well as I tell you a secret lost in the ages past," Panther began. "Long before the first books were written, before man dominated the earth it was known that we were not alone in this universe. It was only a matter of time before those beyond our world found this oasis in the void. So it was that the Guardians were created. Men and women set apart from their tribes to watch over them and defend them in times of need. The Guide and the Sentinel, opposite and equal. Also it was realized that the knowledge of the old ways might be lost to time. So it was that there would be a race of Man, set apart to watch, learn, and remember. To be partners with the Guardians when the time came. Thus the Immortals were created."

"But as time passed, Immortals forgot their true purpose and used their long lives to dominate the rest of humanity," Panther's voice was filled with sorrow. "It was decided that the immortals needed to be controlled, and thus The Game was created. A prize to fight for, distracted them from the dreams of conquest. A goal to strive for, a reason for those not wishing to cause violence to others to fight against their evil brethren."

"Now in this time the ones that we feared would come, plan to make this world their own. This will not happen. The Others threaten the Tribe of Earth. We stop them now, while they are weak."

Blair/Panther placed Methos' hand on his heart, then placed his own hand over the heart of the immortal. "Sentinel, within this mountain there is a place were the earth's energy is being used to power the complex inside it. Reach out with your senses and find it."

Jim reached out with his senses, searching for and finding the incredible build-up of pressure that was being bled off. He didn't understand how it was being done. He felt his awareness drift along the shunt trying to determine were all the energy was going.

//Jim! No zoning, man.// Blair called, bringing him back.

//Thanks, Chief,// Jim said centering his attention back where he needed it be.

"Yes, that is the place," Panther said triumphantly. "Methos, relax and let go."

As with Jim and Blair, Methos could see within his mind's eye a visual representation of what the words meant. He felt a pulsing sensation in his chest, where Blair's hand rested, a pulling sensation that seemed to be trying to wrench his very soul from his body.

"Not your soul," Panther reassured him. "Relax and let go."

Power seemed to arch between the three men, causing all of them to gasp. Methos' eyes opened wide in shock as he realized what was happening. Lightning from his own quickening danced across Blair's and Jim's flesh, yet there was no outward sign of discomfort.

"Draw your sword," Panther commanded.

It was awkward, but Methos managed to do so without dislodging Blair's hold on him. Jim focused his vision on the massive ship that was just passing the summit, heading in a direct line toward Tacoma.

"Yes, they have no fear of discovery any more," Panther said. "To leave now means losing everything they have worked for. They will kill all within their reach if not stopped." He joined Blair's hands to those of Methos on the hilt of the immortal's sword.

Blair held on tightly to Jim's presence through their bond. The energy flowing through them was like nothing he'd ever felt. Every hair on his body seemed to be standing on end. The part of him that was the shaman took hold of the energy and held it ready. In a tiny corner of his mind he wondered how he could ever fit this into his studies. He worried more about what all this power was doing to Jim's senses. Suddenly there was no time left for thought.

Panther took control completely for one brief moment, thrusting the sword's point into the earth beneath their feet. Blair channeled the energy he held within them through the blade. The image of the power overloading the alien power shunt clear in his mind; he used Jim's awareness of it's location as a guide.

Beneath them the ground shook with enough force to knock them off their feet. Somehow they held on, sending the power of Methos' Quickening into the mountain. A deafening shriek emanated from the earth as the rock of the mountain shattered. Heat washed down the slopes melting the glaciers. In the chaos that was unleashed, Methos wondered briefly if he would actually be killed in the blast.

The rescue party burst in the clearing to find that the helicopter was still sitting where they left it. The pilot casually smoking a cigar as he hid under the tail.

Without waiting for the pilot to move Brackett climbed into the pilot's seat and started the engines, not even bothering with a pre-flight check. "Get strapped in people. We're taking off as soon as this bird is ready."

The pilot jumped into the other seat. "You can't just take off. There are procedures," he complained.

"Shut up and sit back," Lee glanced back at the passenger compartment. "Everyone set back there?"

"We're in," Simon called as he slammed the door shut behind Spring.

"Hang on," Lee lifted the copter off the ground, turning it to the east to get distance and a few mountains between them and Mt. Rainier. Taking no chances Lee pushed the machine as fast as it could go.

"I can't believe we just left them there. After all this, how could we do that?" Brown demanded to know.

"It wasn't like they gave us much of a choice," Scully said, watching Rafe's body closely. He lay on the floor of the copter, taking up any maneuvering room. His handsome face was slack, his eyes open.

Mulder held his sister's hand in his, softly telling her of his quest to find her after she had been abducted. Tears filled her eyes as he explained he had never given up hope that she was alive.

There was a sudden intake of breath as Rafe returned to life. His eyes jerked open, to look at the men and women around him. Scully and Mulder were the only ones not wide eyed in shock.

"Johan?" Henry asked uncertainly. "You're alive. How can you be alive?" He grabbed his partner by the shoulder, his other hand searching for the wound in Rafe's chest. "Where's the bullet hole? What the hell is going on?!" His voice echoed though the cabin, followed by a silence broken only by the sound of the helicopter's engine.

Lee made a sharp turn in a valley, obscuring the view of the massive volcano with a mountain. He opened his night vision up to navigate through the rough terrain. The sense of imminent danger increased just as he managed to get them around Mt. Aix. There was a sudden change in the air pressure around him; he opened his hearing to detect the first rumbles behind them. He took a firm grip on the stick, when the sound of the eruption crashed over them. The very air seemed to shake with the power of the blast. Only seconds after the first, Brackett detected a second lesser explosion.

//The Others are defeated,// the coyote whispered.

"But what about Ellison and Sandburg?"

//Only time will tell.//

{{ "I'm Peter Jennings of ABC News. To recap this still unfolding story in Washington State. Mt. Rainier erupted without warning last night just after sun down. The northwestern side of the volcano shattered, sending debris out for miles. Just as devastating to the surrounding area was the almost instantaneous liquidization of the nearly dozen glaciers that covered the mountains surface. Witnesses claim to have seen flashes of lightning on the mountain just before the blast. Yet other reports claim to have seen a UFO hovering over the summit that was caught in the blast. Neither of these reports have yet to be confirmed.

"It's been twelve hours since last night's devastating eruption. Emergency crews have been working through the night to help victims of the blast. It is feared that hundreds may have died in the towns of Kapowsin, Ashford, Lengmizer, and Crystal Mountain. While officials hold onto the hope of survivors, there has been no word from these towns. Tacoma, the largest city affected by the blast, is slowly picking up the pieces, even as the continued ash fall threatens to bury the entire region. Early estimates cannot be made as the extent of the damage is yet unknown. Now to our local affiliate for breaking news."

"Thank you Peter. The sun has finally risen to allow rescue workers a chance to search the debris field. It is a truly awe inspiring sight. The once picture perfect summit is now nothing but bare rock and ash. Over a dozen helicopters from all over the state have arrived to help with the search and there are crews from as far away as Alaska headed here to lend a hand."

"We have been warned by the USGS that there is imminent danger of more eruptions so we have not been permitted any closer to Mt. Rainier. We have been promised a chance to view the area tomorrow. After the rescue crews have had a chance to search." }}

Simon sat next to the small radio his head in his hands. There was no way that Jim and Blair could have survived that blast. How could they just leave them there? How was he going to face the men of his squad knowing that he had abandoned them? Maybe it was just too much all at once, but when he watched Johan come back to life after having been shot straight though the heart, he just couldn't muster up the energy to be shocked.

The rest of the group saw quietly waking up from the rough nights sleep in Jenna's cramped cabin. No one was willing to break the silence yet, as they listened to the radio. Coffee was brewing when Simon got up so he assumed that those awake were somewhere outside. Scully stumbled into the kitchen area and poured a cup for herself and her partner who was only a few steps behind her.

"Did any of you notice that Brackett, Rafe, and Two-feathers are missing?" Brown asked, coming back into the cabin. "As well as the helicopter."

Charlie rubbed his head, trying to relieve a horrible head ache. "They went to find Jim, Blair, and Adam."

"When did they leave?" Brown asked.

"About an hour before sun-up. They wanted to get out there and search as soon as possible," Charlie sighed. "Brackett said he needed to do it without distractions."

"So we just sit on our butts and wait for them to come back?" Simon asked, angry at being left out.

"I guess so. Unless you know where we are," Charlie replied.

Simon shook his head then stormed out of the cabin in frustration.

Rafe rode in the copter quietly watching the terrain go by. The devastation of the eruption was spread out before them, everything had a grey coating to it. There were almost no landmarks left forcing him to wonder how they could ever hope to find anything in that mess.

He'd finally told everyone about his immortality last night. It wasn't very hard to convince them since he had come back to life in front of everyone. The FBI agents took it all in stride, Brackett and Two-Feathers handled it pretty well, just gaped at him for a bit. Spring started rubbing his head, complaining that everyone was thinking too loud. Simon seemed to taking it well enough; it seems Jim told him something was up but wouldn't say what.

Brown was a problem though. His partner didn't like the idea that he had been keeping this secret from him. He felt it was a breach of trust. Honestly Rafe had a feeling that it was a case of too much information at once. Given time, Henry would get over it. For now though he decided to give him some space.

Brackett was using memory to guide him along the mountain face. He wore an intense look of concentration, constantly monitored by Jenna, as they flew in a wide circle. They were close, he could feel it in his gut. //Where? Where are they?// he thought desperately as he glanced at the fuel gauge. He knew they had maybe a half-hour's worth in the tank. Every minute that passed lessened their chances of finding them alive.

There was a sudden flash of light down on the ground, Lee focused on it. "There! I think that's them," he exclaimed. Jenna smiled, squeezing his shoulder as he turned the helicopter to land nearby.

"What? Where?" Rafe demanded, following his gaze. The blade of the copter blew volcanic ash everywhere as they touched down.

Rafe clambered out with a shout of surprise. Standing upright glittering in the early morning sun, was Methos' sword. Just to one side was a mound covered with ash. The whipping wind removed the layers to reveal the huddled bodies of all three men. Jenna was with him in moments helping him brush away the ash from the motionless bodies. The sight was heartbreaking. Jim's arms were wrapped around Blair, as they lay back to chest. Blair's hands were in a death grip on Methos, as though they had been afraid that they would lose each other. "Help me. We have to get them out of here," Rafe cried trying to separate the bodies.

Lee came around the other side of the copter to help. The three of them were forced to move the bodies together. Short of braking Blair's fingers they couldn't separate them. Once they had them in the copter, Rafe went back for the sword. He pulled at the sword but couldn't budge it. He brushed away the ash to find the sword embedded in solid granite. Shaking his head in disbelief he ran back to the helicopter, climbing in and signaled them to take off.

The ash continued to fall as they flew away. It covered the ground where they had landed, until all sign of their passing was obscured. An hour later, the rescue copters flew passed the spot totally unaware of what had happened.

Johan and Jenna examined the three men's bodies for any sign of trauma. They exchanged worried glances. None of them were breathing, but aside from the grip they had on each other, there was no sign of rigor setting in. Johan was relieved when he felt Methos' immortal buzz return. A moment later Blair took a gasp of air, then fell into a fit of coughing, Jim was next, then Methos followed. Blair released his hold on the immortal to cover his own mouth.

The loss of contact seemed to awaken Methos. His eyes flew open wide as he sat bolt upright. In between fits of coughing he spewed forth a variety of colorfully rude phrases, half of which no one alive could have possibly understood. Rafe knelt down to steady his former teacher. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, Methos."

"Oh, <cough> like I ever <cough> plan on doing that again," Methos groused. Rafe wrapped his arms around his friend and mentor briefly then turned to check on Jim and Blair.

Jenna helped first Blair, then Jim into a seat. Both looked dazed and confused. Reaching under one of the seats she produced a water bottle. She helped them drink it slowly, taking turns. She then ripped the bottom of her shirt to make a cloth, poured a little water on it, and wiped the ash away from Jim's face, taking extra care around his eyes.

Blair opened his eyes after Jenna finished the procedure on him. He looked around uncertainly. Everything hurt, if he thought it was possible he'd swear his hair hurt. His last conscious memory was of a tremendous rumbling sound, then darkness. He leaned over to rest his head on Jim's shoulder. One thing he was sure of, the strange bond between them was still there. He felt safe with that knowledge.

Jim couldn't remember the last time he hurt this much, not even the crash in Peru had felt like this. His skin itched terribly, but he just didn't have the energy to scratch. Which in retrospect was probably a good thing, one of the things he'd learned was that ash was partly microscopic shards of glass. With his senses it would probably feel like torture. He felt Blair lean against him and sighed, he needed his guide close right now. He had felt the blast coming and wrapped his arms around Blair, unwilling to lose him. Then darkness descended, the next thing he knew they were in this helicopter. What scared him was that they should be dead.

It was a near thing, finding the small air field just before the helicopter ran out of fuel. Lee and Jim both heard the last sloshes of fuel as they touched down. The field was nearly deserted; all of the local pilots had volunteered to help with the search around the mountain. Since the shifting winds were bringing ash to nearly every corner of the state the fuel crew didn't question their appearance.

Rafe ended up using his credit card to pay for the fuel. It turned out that he was the only one in the group that happened to have any type of solid identification on him. Methos reassured him that he wouldn't be stuck eating macaroni and cheese for the next six months.

The ancient immortal kept trying to fall asleep, part of his mind didn't want to deal with the world just yet. He was remembering the story the panther had told them. He didn't know what to think anymore. Ever since his time with the Horsemen he had tried to stay out of the way of other immortals. He wondered what Macleod would think if he heard this.

They returned to the reservation around noon. Touching down lightly unlike the rough landing the night before. The people waiting for them spilled out of the cabin that stood a few hundred yards away.

Simon got to them first full of fury about being left behind. The words he was going to say died on his lips when the passenger doors opened to reveal Jim and Blair dirty, tired, and very much alive.

"Oh my god," he whispered as they gingerly climbed out of the vehicle.

"You feel okay, Simon?" Blair asked with a tired smile. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

The impish sense of humor broke Simon out of his shock. He reached out and enveloped his two friends in a huge hug. "Oh man, I thought you were dead. I thought you were both dead."

Brown joined the hug holding on to his friends tightly. "You two are going to force me to retire early, I don't think I can handle the stress."

"Easy guys, leave a few ribs in place," Jim managed to say. Though he was quite happy to stay leaning on his friend for the moment. After a long moment they pulled apart. A wave of dizziness caused Jim to sway on his feet.

"Easy there, Jimbo," Henry cautioned. "Let's get you two inside."

"Wait, we need to get the ash off of them first," Scully said quickly.

"Bring them over to the river, we'll wash them down," Jenna suggested. She ran inside to grab some towels while the group worked to get the ash caked clothing off of the three men.

Brackett pulled Simon away from the group. "I heard a relayed message on the radio. Captain Taggert is trying to contact you and Agent Mulder."

"Did it say anything else?" Simon asked, now worried about what had happened in Cascade.

"No but the message said it was urgent."

"Damn," Simon glanced over at his men being cared for at the river's edge.

"Listen, I know it doesn't mean much to you," Lee began. "But I promise we'll take good care of Ellison and Sandburg."

"I'd feel better if we got them to a hospital."

"Banks, they're in no shape to travel. Besides, most hospitals are going to be swamped with casualties from the blast." Lee argued. "Jenna has enough supplies here to take care of them. She took real good care of me, and she understands the problems of someone with heightened senses."

"Okay, I can see that," Simon agreed reluctantly.

"Come on, lets see how there doing," Lee smiled, and for the first time Simon realized he was smiling too.

Mulder helped Rafe get Methos to the river. "What happened up there old man?" he asked.

Methos looked into the agent's eyes. "What do you think happened? The mountain blew up under our feet."

"But how?" Mulder pressed.

"Hey, Fox, let it go for a while," Blair said tiredly, his eyes closed. "If you want a full account, you can wait until we all get a little rest."

Jenna came back with towels and a few cups to scoop water with. Once they had the majority of the dirt off, they submerged each man in the cold spring and let the rest of the dirt wash away in the current.

The act of getting clean exhausted the Sentinel and Guide. Their friends practically had to carry them into the cabin. Jenna instructed that they be placed in the large bed in the back room. It was the very bed that she had used to nurse Lee back to health.

"Will you look at that?" Scully said, examining Blair's arm.

"Look at what?" Simon asked.

"There are scars running down his arm. They look like the kind you would get if you had been hit by lightning."

Blair opened his eyes to look. Sure enough, white fern-like scars ran down his arm from wrist to elbow. They were faded, as though they were several years old, but he knew they hadn't been there before yesterday.

"Ellison has them too," Brackett said, examining the detective.

"They don't hurt," Jim stated sleepily, looking down at his own scars.

"After all we've been through, I think I can handle a few scars," Blair said, his eyes drifting shut.

"Come on, lets leave them to sleep," Scully ordered. "We'll figure it all out in time."

Jim floated in a sea of dreamless sleep for what seemed like forever. He felt he should be worried about it, but he was comforted by the constant presence of his guide next to him. The warmth of their connection beat in time with their heart beats.

//I love you, Blair,// Jim sent to his sleeping friend. He closed his arms around his friends body, and nuzzled his curly hair.

//I love you too,// came the sleepy response. Blair opened his eyes to look into Jim's eyes. //I think I have for a while.//

//This changes a few things you know,// Jim told him, carding his fingers though Blair's hair.

//I know, but I can't pretend that I feel any different.// Blair sighed. //The thought of losing you to that explosion scared the hell out of me. Made me realize how deep my feelings are.//

//I'll always be here for you.// Jim brushed his lips across Blair's and found them soft and tender. The taste of the other man was all he ever wanted in his life. They held each other for a long time, and slipped back into sleep.

After a long series of arguments with the various strong willed people that helped rescue Jim and Blair, the helicopter lifted off taking everyone except the two pairs of Guardians. There was too much to do, too many duties waiting for everyone. As much as they wanted to they couldn't just sit vigil over the two men, who were obviously recovering.

Lee and Jenna spent their time taking turns checking on their patients. Which was easy enough since they slept for nearly two days straight. On the morning of the third day Brackett heard the distinct sounds of someone waking up. He felt kind of odd as he puttered about the small kitchen, making enough food for four people instead of two.

Jim came out first, dressed only in a pair of boxers. He looked like five miles of bad road. "Bathroom?"

"Out-house," Lee said, trying to hide a smile. "Out the door, to the right, ten feet past the side of the house." A mumbled thanks was all he got. Less than a minute later Blair came out of the room. If anything, he looked worse that Jim, with his hair all scraggly. A grateful grad student made a quick exit in the direction of the out-house.

Jenna had gone out early to get some supplies that they needed. The small store at the main village in the reservation was well stocked of things she normally needed. Lee heard the sound of her brother's dirt bike coming up the trail. He frowned, wondering what the little punk wanted now.

Turned out the Barry didn't want more than to cause trouble. He entered the small valley, tore up the ground did doughnuts in the dirt a few times. Then he headed out the back end. Lee rubbed his ears in irritation. One of these days he was going to teach him a lesson.

Jim walked into the cabin, Blair only a step behind. He was still looking rough, but no longer desperate. "Who was that?" he asked.

"My Guide's little brother," Brackett sighed as he poured some coffee.

"That kid needs a hobby," Blair muttered, taking a sip from his cup.

"Unfortunately, that is his hobby."

Jim regarded Lee as he drank his coffee, a curiously amused expression threatening to spread across his face.

"What are you smirking at, Ellison?" Lee asked, as he dished out eggs and bacon for all of them.

"Somehow, I just never pictured you serving me breakfast." Jim let the smile come out fully. Lee shot him a glare but there wasn't much force to it. He'd found the situation amusing too.

Blair shook his head as he ate. "I'm not complaining. I'm usually the one that cooks breakfast." He reached over to take Jim's hand in his. Jim smiled back at him and twined their fingers together.

Brackett stared at them for a moment in surprize, then smiled. "I guess that answers that question."

"What question?" Jim asked.

"Whether or not you too would end up together." Brackett said. "I suspected you were more than partners back when we first met."

It was Jim and Blair's turn to stare. "We weren't, at least not until after this," Blair said. "I didn't realize how much I needed him, until we almost lost everything."

"I've always loved you, Chief." Jim admitted. "I just never let myself want you." They stared into each other's eyes and saw the truth that radiated there. Nothing more was needed to be said.

They ate quietly for a while; three days without food made Blair and Jim ravenous. Food disappeared from the table at an alarming rate. Soon the plates were cleared of food.

Jim looked up at the same time Lee heard the sound of a truck coming up the road. "Jenna's back. The place was starting to run low on everything."

They made short work of putting the supplies away. Jenna had managed to find clothes for both men, not perfect fits but close enough. After cleaning up and getting dressed Blair and Jim joined Lee and Jenna on the porch.

"How are you both feeling now that you've slept?" Jenna asked.

"A lot better," Jim said. "I'm feeling a bit sore but it's nothing serious."

"Same here," Blair agreed. "But I find myself staring at my arms." He indicated his scars.

"Do you have any idea what caused that?" Lee asked. "I figured it had something to do with Pierson being immortal."

"I have a theory," Blair nodded. "The power was flowing through all three of us, so for that brief moment in time, Jim and I were sharing his immortality. Otherwise we would have been seriously dead on that mountain."

"What about the scarring, Chief? Pierson didn't have any," Jim reminded him.

"Because we aren't really immortal, our bodies weren't completely compatible with the quickening energy. So we got burned, but it healed most of the way leaving the scars," Blair stated. "Or that's as good as I can come up with in a few days."

They all looked at him for a stunned moment. "No wonder you keep him around Ellison. The kids mind works fast." Lee shook his head.

"I got some news from Cascade," Jenna said, taking a long drink from her beer bottle. "Captain Banks says, your brother is fine. They had a close call at the race track. He's looking forward to having dinner with both of you when you are feeling better."

"Did he say what kind of close call?" Jim asked worriedly.

"No, but he did say that Stephen wasn't hurt, and he doesn't want you to worry."

"I guess Simon knows you pretty well, Jim," Blair snickered.

"Lets see, Mulder and Scully took his sister back to Washington with them. Brown isn't talking to Rafe at the moment, claims he's processing what happened. Aside from that , he said to rest up and quote 'get your collective butts back to work so we can prove that you aren't dead'."

"That's Simon for you," Jim smiled.

"At least your life is still waiting for you," Lee sighed. "Not that the one I had was worth much, but at least it was mine. As far as the world is concerned I'm dead."

Blair regarded the sentinel seriously. "Not many people get to reinvent themselves. You have a chance to do anything you want."

"If you'd like, I've got some contacts that can get you a new set of credentials," Jim offered, his eyes drifting to scars on the ex-agent's wrist.

Lee followed his gaze, "There from the restraints I was in during my interrogation. I don't remember much of it. It's better that way." He shifted uncomfortably as his mind drifted back. Jenna placed her hand on his arm reassuringly.

"I'll never know what you went through," Jim said softly. "And to be honest I don't think I want to, but I can guess. I want to thank you for coming after us. You didn't have to and you could have just left us for dead on that mountain." Jim tilted his head slightly, then offered his hand. "Any bad blood between us was taken care of when you saved us."

"That means a lot, Jim. Thanks." Lee shook Jim's hand firmly. Jenna looked at Blair, they smiled at each other happily.

"So any chance I can get an interview with you for my dissertation?" Blair asked. "It could be a whole sub-chapter, Sentinel abilities from the view of someone who had been on the outside, now having to deal with the abilities."

Brackett nearly choked on his beer. "After everything that you've been through in the past week, you still want to publish?"

"Maybe if we could bring the knowledge of Sentinels back into the collective mind of the world," Blair argued, "the threat to Jim, you, and any other potential sentinels would be lessened."

"And maybe we'd all end up in Las Vegas using our abilities as a night club act." Lee grimaced.

"Actually going public might not be such a bad thing," Jenna said.

"Huh?" the three men turned to her.

"If it was done as publicly as possible, with say a few dozen tribal leaders to back up your findings. Yes, there would be a media circus for a while, but after that it would die down."

"I think it's a nice dream," Lee said. "But not very realistic."

"Chief, why don't you publish the diss on the police that you've been working on? Once you get your doctorate you'll have the clout to publish your Sentinel research."

Blair looked a bit dejected, "I'd have liked to have gotten my Ph. D. with the Sentinel research. I've worked on it most of my academic life. But I guess it is still too dangerous right now."

"There are plenty of people out there that would be drooling at the chance to have a person with heightened senses working for them," Lee said.

"Yeah, and others would be just happy to rid the world of people like us." Jim reminded his partner.

"Like Dr. Havelock," Blair shuddered.

"Exactly." Jim pulled Blair into his arms, and Blair relaxed into his embrace.

"Okay, I'll sit on the research for a while," Blair agreed. "But not too long. I want to be young enough to enjoy the profits from the movie rights." His voice was serious, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes.

Jim rolled his eyes at his guide then smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

Johan stood on the beach with Methos staring out at the waves. They were spending a good deal of his off duty time together. The ancient immortal had been rather quiet since their return to Cascade, but after what had happened it was understandable.

Methos picked up a shell and tossed it into the surf. "A few years ago I came across an immortal that had been impersonating me for centuries."

Johan nearly jumped at his words. "Really?" he managed to ask casually. "Isn't that asking for trouble?"

"Yeah, he had this ideal that he tried to push on every immortal he came across. Kind of an immortal hippy; promoting peace and love." He picked up another shell and tossed it. "The only problem was it got those that believed him killed."

"What happened to him?" Rafe asked.

"He tried his shtick with the wrong guy and lost his head," Methos replied. "Before he died though I got the chance to talk to him."

"What did he say?"

"He said that it would seem like a waste for someone to have for lived five thousand years and only be able to say that they had survived." He wrapped his arms around himself. "After that I began to wonder if he was right, if sitting back and watching the world go by quietly was the wrong way to live."

"What do you think now?" Rafe asked.

"Now, after what I was told on that mountain," Methos said softly. "I think that I haven't wasted anything. I've lived for five thousand years, and recorded what I saw ever since the written language was created. I've been doing what we immortals were originally meant to do, and I find that both gratifying and frightening."

They stood together lost in their own thoughts for several minutes. The waves crashed on the beach reaching up toward them as the tide slowly rose. Johan slipped his hand into that of his lover. He lifted their twined fingers to his lips and kissed them.

"So what are we going to do with this knowledge?" Rafe asked softly.

"I don't think spreading it around is a good idea," Methos said, a slight smile in his eyes. "But we can tell a few. Maybe Macleod and Joe, and any new immortals we come to teach."

"I think you're right," Rafe agreed. "Not many would believe us anyway."

Methos straightened his posture. "Well that was enough of being melancholy. Come on, lets go find some dinner."

"I hope your paying," Rafe laughed at his friends sudden change in mood. "Because that tank of fuel just about maximized my credit limit."

"I already said I'd take care of that. Now where do you want to eat?"

"I don't know?" Rafe shrugged, still smiling. "What have we got time for?"

Time was something that no one seemed to have anymore. It seemed that from the moment Simon and his two detectives returned to work the Chief of Police and the Mayor had begun to demand to know why he had been incommunicado during the biggest disaster in Washington State history. He made certain that they understood he was trying to rescue one of his men.

Only the local newspapers bothered to carry the news that Jim and Blair were alive. With Scully and Mulder's help, he was able to create a plausible story as to their disappearance. They also made certain that the press understood that due to their traumatic experience, Jim and Blair were staying in a private hospital in an undisclosed location until they were recovered.

The story of the attempted kidnaping of Stephen Ellison had been shocking. Six men in commando gear all armed to the teeth, all very dead, waiting in the morgue to be identified. The Haz-Mat team had found a toxic pile of goo in the middle of one of the paddocks. A dozen thoroughbreds died from the stuff, there was still no identification of the substance. Amazingly the merger that the younger Ellison had been trying to accomplish was still going to happen. In fact the conglomerate was quite impressed by the way Stephen had handled himself during the crissis and where prepared to offer him a position high in the companies higherarchy.

Meanwhile agents Scully and Mulder had the duty to inform AD Skinner about the demise of Cancerman. The triumphant news was greeted by a stern look and a very quiet congratulations. They made plans to use the sudden power vacuum to find the truth about as many things a possible.

The hard part was bringing Samantha back into the real world. Fox learned on the flight home that Sam had lived at that complex most of her life. The men at the facility had been waiting for the ship to arrive for her real job to begin. Though it had never been stated what that was. She would be going home to live with their mother up at Martha's Vineyard. There, hopefully, she could find some connection to the outside world.

Panther and Coyote watched their charges.

//They seem to have recovered quite well,// Coyote commented.

//Yes, they will be returning to the city soon,// Panther smiled. //They have done well, don't you think?//

//Very well,// Coyote agreed. //It is a beginning, the damage done will take generations to fully recover from. But I think they are again on the right path.//

//I spoke to Falcon. He believes he may have found a young Sentinel.//

//Really?// Coyote was intrigued. //Where?//

//In Cascade,// Panther smiled. //The son of the one known as Captain Banks, he shows great potential.//

//Banks will have a fit,// Coyote laughed. //Oh, I want to be there to see that.//

//I'll let you know when Falcon is going to approach him.// Panther promised.

//Thank you. I've always loved these times of change. They're so much fun to watch.//

The two spirit guides separated again, knowing that their work had only just begun in this age. They were rebuilding a foundation that had almost crumbled to dust. This time they would make it stronger.

The End

//They seem to have recovered quite well,// Coyote commented.

//Yes, they will be returning to the city soon,// Panther smiled. //They have done well, don't you think?//

//Very well,// Coyote agreed. //It is a beginning, the damage done will take generations to fully recover from. But I think they are again on the right path.//

//I spoke to Falcon. He believes he may have found a young Sentinel.//

//Really?// Coyote was intrigued. //Where?//

//In Cascade,// Panther smiled. //The son of the one known as Captain Banks, he shows great potential.//

//Banks will have a fit,// Coyote laughed. //Oh, I want to be there to see that.//

//I'll let you know when Falcon is going to approach him.// Panther promised.

//Thank you. I've always loved these times of change. They're so much fun to watch.//

The two spirit guides separated again, knowing that their work had only just begun in this age. They were rebuilding a foundation that had almost crumbled to dust. This time they would make it stronger.

The End