The Scales of Justice    The Scales of Justice by Lucy Hale

  

 It breaks my heart to look around 
 And see the unimpressed,
 Who can't believe the emperor is dressed. 

 -FB 

 Over the sounds of typewriters and hushed phone conversations, a voice
drifted through the Major Crimes division of the Cascade PD. 

 "...and so when the men all get together finally down by the finished
boat, they work together to push it through miles of forests. And the
tribal women come stand by and sing encouragement and the kids come and
watch and it's a real community thing. I mean, these guys have really got
it down, you know? Jim? Jim?" 

 Jim Ellison didn't look up from his paperwork. "Chief, I think it's time
I told you. I have a mental block that inserts itself into my brain any
time the words 'tribal' or 'native' come out of your mouth. I can't
control it -- it just appears, and it blocks out anything you say for at
least five minutes. I just thought you should know." 

 Blair Sandburg rolled his eyes and shot his friend a mock-glare. "You
know, it wouldn't hurt you to listen to me when I talk sometimes. There's
a whole word outside Cascade, Jim, you should learn to appreciate that." 

 At the desk across from theirs, a sharp laugh sounded out. 

 Jim glanced up at the face of Henri Brown. "Something funny, H?" 

 Henri chuckled. "Did Blair really just tell you it won't hurt to listen
to him?" 

 Blair nodded, puzzled. "What's the joke, man?" 

 "You? Blair, the walking trouble magnet? Blair
Everything-I-Do-Gets-Me-Kidnapped-or-Beaten-or-Shot Sandburg? It's safe to
listen to you?" He chortled. 

 Blair glared at the other detective. "Rub it in, man. Great." But a
second later he had to smile at the light-hearted man's giggles. 

 "Ellison? Sandburg? In my office." 

 The door that had opened behind the two closed again quickly. Blair and
Jim glanced at each other, brows creased. Simon's words weren't exactly
uncommon, but his tone was. Quiet, almost polite? That wasn't Simon Banks.


 Henri seemed to think so too. "Uh oh. I don't know what case you guys are
about to get, but we don't want anything to do with it." He glanced over
to where his partner was perched near the coffee machine, oblivious to the
world. 

 "No worries, H. There's nothing so bad we have to bring the Comedian and
the Yuppie in to help." 

 Henri watched them go, and maturely stuck his tongue out at the departing
pair. 

 "What's up, Simon?" Jim asked as he shut the door behind him. 

 "Got a new case in." Simon gestured towards a file on his desk without
enthusiasm. "It seems there's a killer on the loose in Washington, and he
was last seen heading for Cascade." 

 Blair let out a breath. "Sounds fun. What do we know about him?" 

 Simon sat back behind his desk with a tired sigh. His eyes came up and
studied his two friends for a moment as he weighed his words. "Cop
killer." 

 Jim sat down heavily, and Blair joined him a second later. Cop killer.
Two words that drove fear, anger, and vengeance into any police officer.
Jim's voice was steel when he broke the silence. "Go on." 

 Simon opened the file and skimmed it absently. "He's wanted in the
Northwest Territories for several-" 

 "Wait. Northwest Territories?" 

 "Yeah." 

 "As in, Canada? As in, WAY outside our jurisdiction?" 

 Simon shut the file with a snap and sat up. "Alright, Ellison, I'm laying
it on the line here. This case is completely unofficial. In fact, if you
decide you want nothing to do with it when you hear the whole story, I've
got no choice but to let you off the hook." 

 Jim frowned. 

 "Okay, let me see if I can explain. There's a town called Yellowknife
that sits on the Great Slave Lake in the Northwest Territories with an
RCMP patrol station on the outskirts. Two weeks ago was some kind of
holiday, and the place was packed with Mounties from all sorts of remote
northern areas. This man..." Simon plucked a picture off the desk and
handed it across to Jim. "This man is Vasant Pranav, a wanted fugitive in
the Territories. Long story short -- he set off an explosion during their
celebration, nearly forty men were killed." 

 Blair sucked in a breath, turning immediately to the picture Jim held and
studying it over his shoulder. 

 Jim handed it over to him quickly. "Is that picture all we have to go
on?" 

 Simon nodded. "That and the help of two men who survived that explosion.
They'll be arriving in Cascade first thing in the morning. You'll work
together to catch this guy. If you want the case." 

 Jim glanced back over at the fuzzy, dark picture, his thoughts racing.
"You said this was unofficial. What exactly does that mean?" 

 "It means the Cascade PD has no real authority on this one. The Feds are
already hard at work tracking this guy, which was how we found out he was
headed here. It also means the two men arriving tomorrow have no authority
either. This is simply a matter of the RCMP looking the other way. You'll
get no help from the other Mounties or the Feds, and minimal help from
us." 

 Jim nodded slowly, returning Simon's gaze straight-on. "How exactly did
you get told about all this?" 

 "An old friend of mine is a Lieutenant in Chicago. He wasn't very clear
on the details, but apparently he knows the men coming tomorrow, and he
wants me to help them." 

 "And you said yes?" 

 Simon looked up sharply. "He's a good friend." 

 Jim raised a hand. "Hey, no problem. I'm just surprised." 

 "Well, what about it? You in, or should I ask Rafe and Brown?" 

 Jim glanced over at Blair. 

 The Observer faced the captain. "We're in." 

 Constable Benton Fraser watched with hidden bemusement as his partner
came bounding down the aisle of the plane. Without even slowing by
Fraser's seat, Stanley Ray Kowalski kept going, through the curtain and
into First Class. Fraser waited expectantly, and a few seconds later Ray
reappeared, crossing the length of the section and vanishing through the
other side. 

 The next time Ray passed, he was followed by a harried-looking flight
attendant. She approached Fraser's seat quietly. "Excuse me, sir?" 

 Fraser turned a polite, blank look her way. "Yes, ma'am?" 

 "Your friend....what is he doing?" 

 Fraser's eyes went to Ray as he reappeared and snaked passed the woman on
his way out again. "I believe he is pacing." 

 "What?" 

 "Pacing." 

 She still didn't seem to get it. "Excuse me?" 

 "Ahh. Pacing is, well, an activity brought about by an access of energy,
perhaps, or a desire to relieve tension and clear one's thoughts by taking
a series of short, quick steps in two directions, without having to
consider one's destination or even one's motions, allowing, as some
believe, an increase in the thought processes." 

 The woman blinked at him. "I know what pacing is, sir," she replied
stiffly, moving closer to him in a jerk as Ray threatened to shove her on
his return trip. 

 "Of course." 

 "I just want to know why he's doing it now, in the middle of a flight." 

 "Ahh. I'm afraid my friend has a good deal of energy." 

 "A lot of people have energy. Can't he just sit down?" 

 "I suppose he could, ma'am, but I would hesitate to force him. I find
it's best to let my friend expell his energy in more healthy, productive
ways, and if he is made to stay in his seat, he would be forced to find
another channel for his energy. And I'm afraid that would make your job-"
Fraser returned Ray's grin with a nod as he passed again. "-slightly more
difficult." 

 "Look, I'm getting complaints from people in First Class. He's making my
passengers dizzy marching back and forth like that. So get him to sit down
and stay quiet or I'll have to order him to his seat." 

 "Understood." 

 She straightened and turned, marching back towards First Class. 

 Fraser watched, still quietly amused, as Ray came through the curtain and
bumped into her. He spoke to her quickly, but she seemed to ignore him,
brushing past and moving forward again. 

 Ray headed back towards Fraser, his eyes wide. "That lady just hissed at
me." 

 Fraser nearly laughed, but kept his expression schooled with effort. "I
think it would be best for you to return to your seat, Ray." 

 "Is that what she was gripin about?" Ray flopped into the chair with a
huge sigh. "This stinks, Frase." 

 "I thought you were looking forward to returning to the United States." 

 Ray shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. Not like I know anybody in Washington. It'll
be nice to have central heating and indoor plumbing again for a while, I
can say that." He shifted in his chair, and was quiet for all of three
seconds before jerking to his feet again. "Speaking of indoor
plumbing...." He headed for the bathroom. 

 Fraser watched him go with a slight shake of his head. The amounts of
energy contained in that slender body never ceased to amaze him. It had
served him well, of course, as Ray had set out with Fraser on their
adventure in the northern wilds of Canada. That energy had been one of the
only things keeping him going his first few weeks. 

 When Ray had decided to abandon his life and home in Chicago to join
Fraser on the rather dubious quest for the Hand of Franklin, Fraser had
been secretly ecstatic, but always certain it wouldn't last. Few people in
the world could uproot themselves and drop down in a land as harsh as the
frozen north, and manage to survive. Ray, of course, had surprised him, as
usual. Not only had he survived, he had flourished. He learned quickly
everything Fraser could teach him, until the two men were equal in
knowledge, if not yet quite equal in skill. And when Fraser's leave from
the RCMP had ended, and the two men abandoned their quest, Ray had shocked
Fraser once more by asking what it would take for him to be able to remain
there with him. 

 So Fraser had -- with help from a friend of his, Buck Frobisher -- pulled
some strings and gotten Ray a temporary assignment as a liason to the
RCMP. Luckily no one had fought him on it, as he would have been hard
pressed to explain what exactly the RCMP in the desolate arctic circle
needed a liason from the Chicago PD for. 

 For weeks they had been working together again, patrolling the land,
rescuing a few ill-prepared travelers. Things had been calm, but good. It
was almost as though they hadn't left their quest. It was mostly the two
of them and their sled dogs. Diefenbaker, of course. And Fraser found
himself growing closer to Ray Kowalski than he ever had been to anyone. A
closeness that came from being the only company for each other for weeks
at a time, from depending on the other every minute for safety, warmth,
everything. 

 And then the call had come in about a fugitive that was making his way
across Canada, probably towards Alaska. The officers that were trailing
this man, Vasant Pranav, had arrived in Yellowknife at the same time Ray
and Fraser were returning for their monthly report. 

 It was Canada Day, and Ray wanted to stick around for a party the RCMP
was throwing. But they had left early, wanting to cover some ground before
nightfall. And had only been about a half mile away when the explosion
came, loud and large enough to be seen from where they had stood frozen. 

 Vasant Pranav had made his escape well enough, but Fraser and Ray were
suddenly men on a mission, and they tracked him south, towards Vancouver,
and then across the border. 

 Pranav's success in crossing the border made the hunt suddenly
complicated, but, again, thanks to Frobisher, Fraser received permission
to take a two-week vacation into the United States. Ray had contacted his
old boss, Lieutenant Welsh, who fortunately had a friend in a police
division in Cascade, Washington, and here they were. 

 The only regret Fraser had was that Dief had been forced to remain
behind. Otherwise, he was rather looking forward to the thrill of the
hunt, and the uncertainty of going back among Americans. And he knew Ray
was as well. 

 "Frase? Ya look kinda lost there." 

 Fraser looked up at Ray, who had returned to his seat and was standing
with arms crossed, gazing down at him. "I was just thinking, Ray." 

 "Oh? Bout what?" 

 "Everything that's happened." Fraser shrugged slightly. 

 Ray dropped into his seat, nodding in perfect understanding. "Yeah. I do
that a lot." His voice was light, but his eyes stayed locked on Fraser. 

 The Mountie sighed imperceptively, knowing what Ray's concern was. "I'm
all right, Ray. I don't believe I'm in any danger of blanking out again." 

 Ray relaxed slightly. "You sure? 'Cause I gotta say, ya scared the shit
outta me last time." 

 Fraser faced the front, his voice dropping unconsciously. "I know. I
admit it made me a little nervous as well." 

 These black-outs were nothing very new to Fraser. Occasionally on patrol
he would try too hard to see something a few hundred feet away, or he
would concentrate too much on the sound of footsteps, and suddenly he
would lose all awareness of the world around him. Usually it was Dief that
found a way to bring him back. But ever since returning to the
Territories, the spells had been happening more and more, and Ray was now
the one greeting him when he returned to himself. 

 Ray drummed his fingers on the armrest between them for a second, before
turning back to face his partner. "Alright, Frase, ya always say we'll
talk about this later. It's later now. We're stuck on this plane, got
nuthin else to talk about. So we're gonna figure this thing out, right?" 

 "Ray, I've told you before, this has happened to me for years. I don't
believe it's something that can be-" 

 "Yeah, yeah. Save it. Let's think here. Alright, we know it happens to ya
whenever yer really concentrating on somethin, right?" 

 "Ray, do we have to talk about-" 

 "Yeah. Now answer the question." 

 Fraser sighed. "Well, yes. It usually does occur when I am focused on
something." 

 "Okay. Now ya said it don't hurt or nothin, so it's probably not like a
brain tumor." 

 "Ray." 

 "Maybe it's some kinda weird brain-energy thing. Like that movie
Phenomenon. D'you ever see that? Naw, I guess ya wouldn't have." 

 "Ray?" 

 "Besides, that turned out to be just a brain tumor too, right? So no
dice. Though it would be kinda wild if you could bend stuff with yer mind
and see and hear things other people can't." 

 Fraser raised his voice -- Ray was hitting a little too close to home.
"Ray?" 

 "Of course, you can do that anyway, right? See and hear things? Ya do
that tasting thing, you can smell stuff." 

 "RAY!" 

 Ray dutifully cut off his rambling, but he faced Fraser, not letting him
talk. "I'm right, Frase. I know it." 

 He opened his mouth to refute his friend, but shut it again after a
minute. He couldn't lie to Ray. Even if he was capable, Ray knew him too
well. He would see right through it. "I've thought about that at times
myself," he admitted finally. 

 "Really? This is greatness. We can figure this out, Frase." Ray shifted
energetically in his seat, facing Fraser more completely. "So how does it
happen? I mean, can ya always hear everything, or can ya block it out
sometimes?" 

 Fraser shrugged stiffly. "I'm afraid it would be impossible to explain.
It has happened to me on and off since my childhood. I couldn't make it
make sense to you without a common frame of reference." 

 At Fraser's sudden distance, Ray frowned slightly, a hint of
self-reproach dimming his bright gaze. "Yer sayin I can't understand no
matter how ya say it, right?" 

 Inwardly, Fraser flinched. He had learned long ago that for all Ray's
bravado and posturing, he thought less of himself than the criminals he
put in jail. Fraser's opinion of him had come to mean a lot to the
detective, for some strange reason, and Fraser often forgot how easily his
partner was hurt. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm simply saying that I
couldn't find the words to explain it to you adaquetely." 

 Ray smiled slightly. "Ya can't find the words? This has got to be a
Benton Fraser first." 

 Fraser returned the smile, but could tell with the certainty of having
spent every waking hour for months with this man that Ray was still
smarting. "I do wish I could tell you, Ray." 

 "Yeah, well. Someday." Ray shrugged and faced the front of the plane. 

 Fraser frowned, but made no move to speak. His eyes wandered out the
window and down to the land below. 

 The airport was coming in to view, the plane was dipping. They would soon
be in the midst of civilization again. Back on the chase. 

 "Man, I wish they'd get here. I so hate airports." 

 Jim raised his eyebrows. "You do? Why do you hate airports?" 

 Blair shrugged, looking out the window pensively as they watched the
planes rolling around the runway. "They always mean someone's leaving.
They're all about goodbyes. It's just not my scene." 

 Jim smiled slightly. "No one's saying goodbye here, Chief. Airports mean
arrivals too, remember." 

 "To some people they do." Blair faced Jim with a small frown. "That just
hasn't been my experience with them." 

 Jim didn't respond, silently studying his younger friend as Blair's eyes
went back to the huge windows. Jim found himself suddenly, as he did at
least once a week, wanting to hunt down the people who had made his
partner so insecure and scared of being deserted. 

 He didn't have much time to think about it, though, before Blair
straightened. "Hey, flight 125, right?" 

 Jim followed his gaze as the plane slowly circled around towards the
doors. He stood up quickly. "About time. Jesus." 

 "They're only an hour late. That's probably some record at this airport,"
Blair remarked absently as they headed for the doors which would open to
let in the passengers. "How are we gonna know these guys?" 

 Jim shrugged. "They're Mounties, right? Shouldn't be too hard to spot." 

 "Right, Jim. Like they're gonna be wearing the dress uniform for a trip
to Cascade." 

 Fraser stood, straightening his serge top. The creases vanished in the
cloth, and he checked quickly to make sure his lines were straight and
everything was gleaming as it should before he went into the aisle. 

 Ray watched the ministrations in silence, only briefly glancing down at
his own creased jeans and weathered sweater, running a hand through his
blond, spiked hair to make sure it was properly defiant. If Fraser wanted
to play perfect Mountie, he could be Oscar to his Felix, no problem. "Ya
ready?" 

 "Of course." Fraser led the way down the aisle and into the ramp leading
in to the airport. "Did the leftenant say who would be meeting us here?" 

 "No, he wasn't sure who Captain Banks would send. I think they'll be able
to find us alright." 

 "What makes you think that?" 

 Ray glanced pointedly at the red serge. 

 "Ahh. Of course. How silly of me." 

 "I can't believe you really insist on wearing that thing everywhere." 

 Fraser remembered to look affronted. "Ray, if we're to make a proper
impression on our liasons here in Washington, it's important to..." He
trailed off, seeing the half-smile on Ray's face that meant he was being
teased again. "Anyway, if you can wear your rumpled detective uniform
everywhere, I see no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to wear my own
uniform." 

 Ray pulled at a frayed edge of the old sweater. "Dis isn't a uniform,
Frase. It's called style." 

 "Funny. I've heard many people use many terms to describe your preference
for dress. Style was never one of them." 

 Ray glared over at Fraser, but the blankly innocent Mountie mask stayed
firm. After a minute he harrumphed. "Not my fault people don't appreciate
taste." 

 "Whatever, Ray." 

 Ray stumbled over his feet, his mouth dropping open to gape as Fraser
moved out into the airport. "Whatever? Frase, ya just 'whatevered' me." 

 "Really, now, Ray, it is simply a word. I did not do it, I spoke it." 

 "I can't believe ya whatevered me." Ray shook his head. "You know that's
bordering on rudeness." 

 Fraser scanned the waiting group greeting the other passengers. "Don't be
silly." 

 "It was. Rudeness. I knew this would happen once we spent enough time
together. Next thing ya know yer gonna be slamming doors in my face and
interrupting-" 

 "Ray, I believe I see our liasons." Fraser hid his grin and moved forward
through the crowd. 

 "Won't wear the uniform, huh, Chief?" Jim grinned over at Blair. 

 "Hey, cool. Dudley Do-Right in person." Blair started for the approaching
Mountie. "Constable?" 

 The tall Mountie stretched his hand out automatically and greeted Blair
with a polite smile. "Officers. My name is Benton Fraser, I'm here as a
representative of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to help track-" 

 "Frase, dey know why we're here," a voice thick with a very American
Chicago dialect cut him off. 

 Jim looked over to see a smaller, wiry blonde appearing at the Mountie's
shoulder. He started in surprise. "You're the other Mountie?" 

 Ray grinned self-consciously, but Fraser answered for him before he
could. "Ahh, I believe there was a misunderstanding. This is Ray Kowalski.
He is not officailly a member of the RCMP." 

 "So what're you doing here?" Blair asked curiously. 

 Ray cleared his throat. "Well, I first went to Canada on the trail of the
killers of my friend's mother, and for reasons that don't need exploring
at this-" 

 "Ray." Fraser cut him off with a small smile neither detective nor
observer understood. 

 "See? Yer interrupting me. Rude." Ray grinned back, and then both men
seemed to remember themselves and turned back to the strangers. "I was a
detective with the Chicago PD. We fell together, I went to Canada. Long
story." 

 "Got it." Jim reached out his hand to the detective. "I'm Jim Ellison,
this is Blair Sandburg. We're going to be conducting this investigation
from the Cascade side." He accepted Fraser's outstretched hand. "We're
going to do everything we..." 

 Blair glanced over as Jim trailed off, and seemed to notice a sudden
spike in the air arising between the two men. Jim released Fraser's hand
as if it had burned him, and Fraser took a step back. They eyed each other
warily for a long, tense moment. 

 Beside Fraser, Ray glanced between them. "Did I miss something here?" 

 Blair immediately rested a hand on Jim's arm. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

 Neither man answered their partner, each staying locked on their other,
expressions guarded. 

 Alarmed, Blair turned to Ray. "Excuse us for a moment." 

 "Yeah." Ray nudged Fraser's arm as the long-haired observer dragged the
cop away. 

 Blair hauled Jim out of earshot of the two men, but lowered his voice
regardless. "What is it, Jim? You recognize him? You getting something off
him?" 

 Jim blinked and shook his head slightly. "I...I don't know. As soon as I
shook his hand, I felt...well..." 

 "What?" 

 Jim met the concerned blue eyes. "I felt like I did with Alex." 

 Blair flinched slightly. Some day the sound of that name wouldn't cause
chills to run through him, but that day was in the distant future. "What
do you mean? You mean that guy is a Sentinel?" His eyes were huge. 

 Jim shrugged. "I don't know. It was different. Not so intense, not
so...bad. But strange." 

 Blair glanced back at the two men they had left. The Mountie was looking
in their direction, and the smaller blonde was speaking to him quietly.
"Man. Oh man oh man. You think it's true? You think that cop's his Guide?"
His face twisted with mingled excitement and remembered fear of their last
Sentinel encounter. "Aw, man. What's the odds? I mean, really, what are
the odds that the two guys we have to work with are another Sentinel-Guide
pair? This is too strange." 

 "Hang on, kid. Let's not jump to conclusions. I could be wrong about
this." 

 "No, man. You can't deny what you felt. Another Sentinel in your city is
bound to set of protective feelings, territorial impulses, even if he's a
good guy. Listen in, see what they're saying." 

 Jim obediently turned and tried to look casual as he extended his hearing
to the pair. 

 "Frase? This is really not a good time to be blacking out on me. Jesus,
Frase, come on. Wake up, snap out of it." 

 Jim's eyes narrowed as his sight extended to study the unblinking, glazed
eyes on the unmoving Mountie. He turned back to Blair. "I guess you may be
right. I think the guy just zoned out." 

 Blair instantly started back to the pair, going right up to Fraser.
"Constable?" 

 Fraser didn't react. 

 Ray tried to swallow his rising panic. "Uh, look, just give him a minute.
It's been a long flight, ya know?" 

 Blair faced the officer. "Does this happen a lot?" 

 Surprised by the question, Ray's eyes narrowed. "He's just tired, okay?
Let me talk to him for a minute." 

 Blair tried to hide his excited grin. "You can talk him out of this?" 

 Ray saw the smile and frowned. "Yeah. Sometimes it takes a coupla
minutes, okay, so if ya don't mind, I-" 

 "Try touching him." 

 "What?" 

 "Touch him. His arm, the back of his neck. While you're talking." 

 Ray glanced at Jim, who stood looking between him and Fraser. "What the
hell do you two know about-" 

 "Just do it," Blair insisted. 

 Ray drew in a breath, instantly feeling and repressing a burst of temper.
He turned to Fraser and hesitantly reached out, gripping the slack arm.
"Hey, Frase, time to wake up now. We've got bad guys to catch." 

 Blair almost beamed. Ray had automatically, unconscious assumed a lower,
more rythmic tone as he talked. Guide voice, done entirely on instinct. 

 And just like that, Fraser blinked, and his gaze focused on the two
younger men in front of him. His eyes met Ray's, flashing with sudden
nervousness. 

 Instantly, Ray drew his arm back and turned to Blair. "Okay, who the hell
are you guys? What do you know about this?" 

 "Ray? Did I just..." Fraser spoke quietly, and didn't finish. 

 "Yeah, Frase. Not to bad this time, though, whatever it was." 

 "We call it zoning out," Blair offered. 

 Surprised, Fraser and Ray both faced him. 

 Blair glanced over at Jim, and saw that his own Sentinel had relaxed
slightly. He grinned and looked back at the two men. "I think we need to
go somewhere and talk before we start investigating this case." 

 Blair didn't even wait for the waiter to leave earshot before he got to
business. "Constable, tell me if any of this is wrong. You have what could
be described as high-powered senses. Taste, touch, smell, sight, hearing,
all of it. It can come and go in flashes, and sometimes you can do it when
you want to. But then you have those zone outs, and sometimes it can come
without warning, and you can almost blind or deafen yourself." 

 Fraser's face was masked, carefully. But he nodded slowly. 

 "And Ray, you can talk him out of those zone-outs with the sound of your
voice and, we know now, the touch of your hand." 

 Ray followed Fraser's example, nodding silently. 

 "Now let me ask you....when you two started working together, did you
notice some kind of a connection, maybe on a deeper level, that you hadn't
felt before? One that made it impossible for you to leave the other?" 

 Ray and Fraser glanced at each other, different memories running through
their mind. Their first meeting, when Ray had been posing for another cop,
and Fraser had been doing everything possible to prove he was a fraud.
Despite all the complications and oddities, the two men had settled into
working together quickly. But there had been times...the Henry Allen case,
when both had been offered transfers, and both had been close to accepting
them. 

 But neither of them had. Fraser had realized at the time that Ray
Kowalski had become a friend that he didn't want to leave. He hadn't
recognized until later, until Ray Vecchio had returned to take his place
where Ray Kowalski had been, that he simply couldn't and didn't want to
imagine life without the energetic blonde. And he knew something had
prompted Ray to offer to stay in the north. Could it have been some deeper
connection, something that made it impossible for them to seperate? 

 Thinking about it now, it seemed remarkably possible. 

 Blair watched the expressions play across each man's face, and nodded
without waiting for them to speak. "I'll take that as a yes." 

 "So...what? What does it mean? Are we freaks or what?" 

 Blair chuckled. "Freaks? No. Although if you are, you're in good
company." He grinned over at Jim. 

 Fraser didn't fail to notice the exchange. "Whatever it is that we are,
you two are the same." 

 "Yeah." Blair faced them again. "The explorer Richard Burton called them
Sentinels. Watchmen of the tribes of South America, warriors predisposed
with heightened senses to defend their people, to watch for enemies, to
detect the changing of the seasons, the patterns of animals hunted as
food. Basically to ensure the safety of the tribe. Constable Fraser, you
are a throwback to those ancient Sentinels, just like Jim here." 

 Fraser and Jim locked eyes for a moment. 

 Blair grinned. "I know, you're getting all ruffled at each other.
Constable, this is Jim's city. The people of Cascade are his tribe, you
could say. You're on his territory, which is why you're both feeling
defensive. I suspect it'll fade with time." 

 "So..." Fraser paused, for once lost for words. "What do I do?" 

 "Well, you already have an amount of control over your senses, otherwise
you'd have gone crazy by now. Have you had them long?" 

 "Since I was a teenager at least, Mr. Sandburg." 

 "Blair. And that would explain it. Did you spend a lot of time alone as a
child?" 

 Fraser's eyes narrowed, but he nodded slowly. 

 "The early Sentinels all had to be sent out into isolation for their
senses to kick in. It took time living in the jungle in Peru to bring it
out in Jim. So you've had them longer, and you've managed to keep them
under reign. But now there's so much you can do with them. You can make
them work for you, Constable. You can control the zone-outs with Ray's
help, and soon we can have you so in tune you'll be just as good as Jim
here." 

 Fraser glanced over at Jim again, and this time there was a crooked smile
pasted to Ellison's face. Fraser returned it hesitantly. 

 "There'll be a lot of tests, a lot of experiments. It gets frustrating,
Constable. Just ask Jim." 

 "I can agree to that one," Jim replied easily. 

 "You're gonna need a lot of help," Blair commented. 

 Ray Kowalski suddenly found himself the focal point of three gazes. He
saw the question in Fraser's eyes. "Hang on, where exactly do I come in to
this?" 

 Jim took up the commentary. "You are to the Constable here what Blair is
to me. See, every Sentinel had to have a Guide. Someone to keep him
grounded, to watch for zone-outs, things like that." 

 "I don't know how to do any of that," Ray protested, his eyes going to
each man as though cornered. 

 Blair answered gently. "It's alright, Detective. You can learn. I didn't
know when we first started what I was-" 

 "No, wait a minute. Who the hell are you guys, anyway? We came here to
find a killer, right? Five minutes after meeting ya we're talking about my
partner being some tribal warrior? It's nuts. How do you even know he's
what you are?" 

 Fraser leaned in closer to the frenetic man instinctively. "Ray,
everything they're saying is correct, and I finally have a name for what
has been troubling me all these years. I feel that they're right. Can't
you feel it yourself?" 

 Ray shook his head firmly. "I don't feel crap, okay? I feel like we need
to get out dere and kick in some heads and put some bad guys in jail,
that's all I feel." 

 Fraser straightened, eyes piercing in to his partner. "Ray. Do you not
wish to be a part of this? To be my...Guide?" 

 Ray's mouth clamped shut. He wanted to scream suddenly, but he got a
reign in on his temper once again. Did he want to help? Of course he did.
Fraser meant more to him than anyone on earth. Did that mean he could
help? Nope. Not him. Not Ray the screw-up. How the hell could Ray possibly
take part in this crazy thing they were making Frase a part of? How could
he agree to let Fraser depend on him to keep him grounded, when Ray was
such a born screw-up he'd probably end up killing the guy? 

 But how could he look at Fraser, at his brother in everything but blood,
and say no? 

 So he let out a breath finally. "Sure, Frase. Of course I wanna help." 

 Fraser's face remained studied, but his eyes suddenly glowed and he
allowed himself to smile briefly. "Thank you kindly, Ray." 

 "Sure thing." Ray smiled crookedly. Yeah, he would help. He would go
along with whatever Ellison and Sandburg had planned, he would let
Sandburg help Frase get control of himself, and he would do whatever they
wanted. Until Fraser found someone who could do it right. 

 "Great! Man, this is so cool! You guys are here for a couple of weeks,
right? I hope that's enough time. We've got to test your senses, and teach
you about filtering and piggybacking and distinguishing heartbeats and-" 

 "Mr. Sandburg? I am sorry to interrupt, but before we go on with
this...with your tests, I believe we should go check in at your precinct
and get to work tracking Vasant Pranav." 

 Blair grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. I guess I kinda forgot. Aww, man,
wait till I tell Simon they sent us another Sentinel. He's gonna freak!" 

 "You think we should tell him?" 

 "Yeah, why not?" 

 "Because this time it isn't our secret to tell, Chief." 

 "Oh. Right. Well, how about it, you two? Simon can be a big help. He
knows almost as much about being a Guide as I do." 

 Ray lit up. "Sure, by all means. Tell him if ya want. Anything to make
our job easier." 

 "You are not trying to make my job easier." Simon's voice was muffled
through his hands as he shook his head slowly. Finally he looked up at the
four men in his office. "Two Sentinels, two Guides. That's what you're
saying." 

 Blair nodded enthusiastically. 

 "Did Harding know about this?" Simon demanded of Ray and Fraser. 

 "I'm afraid we ourselves did not know until after our arrival, and we
have had no chance to speak to the leftenant since then." 

 "Uh huh." Simon stared up at the four men, shook his head again with a
tired sigh, and suddenly got to business. "Your man Pranav was spotted
heading down I 5 and then east on 20, so we figure he's either headed to
this city or to the mountains. Either way, we've got to spot him and get
him into custody fast. This man is dangerous." 

 "You don't have to tell us that, Captain," Ray stated grimly. 

 "No, I suppose not. But look, you're not getting any help from us. I'm
sorry to say my hands are tied on this one. Feds showed up this morning,
made it clear who's supposed to be running this show. If it ends up you
have to give him up to the Feds, do it. Just as long as this guy gets put
away before he can kill anyone else. Jim, Blair, as far as the station is
concerned, you guys are on vacation. Henri and Rafe are the only other
people in this department who have been let in on what's going on. Make
sure it stays that way. If you need back-up, you call me or the two of
them. That's it, you hear me?" 

 "We've got it, captain." 

 "Come on, Simon. We've got two Sentinels on the case here." Blair grinned
at his boss. "What could we need back-up for?" 

 Simon stared at him incredulously, then turned to Ray and Fraser. "You
two guys see a lot of action in Chicago?" 

 "Well, Captain, Ray and I did get perhaps a slightly larger percentage
of, as you say, action, than the normal police officer, but I would hardly
characterize-" 

 "One lousy, bloody, strange disaster after the other," Ray cut in
bluntly. 

 "That's what I thought." Simon glanced back at Blair briefly before
standing. "That's it. That's all I can give you. Sorry there isn't
anything else I can do." 

 "We appreciate everything, sir," Fraser replied politely as they stood. 

 "Good luck," Simon called after them as they filed out of his office and
shut the door behind them. He sank back behind his desk and looked out
through the glass for a moment. "Two Sentinels," he mumbled to himself
with a scowl as he reached for the phone. It was time to pay Harding Welsh
a call to express his gratitude. 

 The four men leaving his office had only made it a few steps towards the
door when they were stopped by a rather nervous looking woman. "Excuse me,
Constable?" 

 "Rhonda," Blair greeted her cheerfully, not seeming to notice her sudden
shyness. "Hey, meet Constable Fraser and Ray Kowalski. They're...friends,
visiting from out of town." 

 "Benton Fraser," Rhonda replied. "I know." 

 Fraser started in surprise. "Forgive me, ma'am, have we met?" 

 "No, but I've heard a lot about you. My cousin writes me all the time of
your work." 

 "Your cousin?" 

 "Renfield Turnbull. He worked with you in Chicago?" 

 Fraser and Ray exchanged looks, then both studied the attractive young
woman in front of them. "Turnbull is your cousin?" 

 She nodded. "And he's sent me a lot of letters about you. I thought your
last name was Vecchio?" 

 Ray smiled slightly. "Long story." 

 "Anyway, Renny says you're a brilliant officer, Constable, which coming
from him is high praise. I just wanted to meet you, to see who has had
such an impact in my stoic cousin's life." 

 "Stoic?" Ray almost laughed. 

 Rhonda's brow furrowed. "You don't think so? I'm always surprised when
anything gets a reaction from Renny." 

 Fraser tried to come to Ray's rescue. "Ahh. Well, I wouldn't say...I
mean, Turnbull certainly appeared....shall I say, he made a
certain...impact, that wasn't exactly...." 

 Rhonda's eyes grew and she laughed suddenly. "Oh, no. Don't tell me he
still pulls his bumbling Mountie routine! I thought he gave that up after
Toronto." 

 Ray chuckled. "Lady, whatever you call his behavior, it sure doesn't seem
like a routine." 

 Still giggling, Rhonda waved a hand. "Whatever you say, Detective. Oh,
Renny." She shook her head, grinning. 

 Fraser cleared his throat. "Well. We will certainly try to live up to the
standards your cousin has preceded us with. And I shall extend your
greeting to him if I should happen to return to Chicago. I am pleased you
hold him in such...high regard." Fraser couldn't stop his mouth from
twitching up into a smile. 

 Seeing their doubt and amusement, Rhonda just smirked. "Constable, do you
know the name of the youngest man ever to graduate from the University of
Toronto with a perfect GPA?" 

 Fraser shook his head, confused. 

 She beamed. "Now you do." With a chuckle, she moved off back towards the
break room. 

 Ray and Fraser watched her go, then looked at each other. Ray opened his
mouth to speak, but Fraser held up a hand, shaking his head. Ray cleared
his throat slightly and turned towards Jim and Blair. "So. Where do we
start?" 

 "Alright, Constable. Just concentrate. Try to relax and focus on the
sounds. Now tell me what you hear." Blair kept his voice quiet and
rythmic, and glanced over at Ray to make sure the cop was paying
attention. They had a few minutes to kill after checking Ray and Fraser
into a hotel, and until Jim got back from checking with Simon. 

 Fraser dutifully concentrated. "I hear....traffic. People outside, an
argument." 

 "That's good. Now try and go a little deeper. Filter out all those top
sounds, focus a little deeper. Don't worry, we'll be here to pull you back
if you zone." 

 Fraser shut his eyes. "I hear..." He shook his head. "Too much. There's
too much out there, I can't..." 

 "It's okay," Blair soothed instantly. "It's too much at once. Why don't
you filter out anything coming from outside. Just focus on this room, and
tell me what you can hear." 

 Fraser's eyes opened, looking at Blair uncertainly for a minute, before
obeying. His eyes shut again and he stood frozen. "I hear...you breathing.
You and Ray. I can hear...the lights. They make a humming sound. The
faucet in the bathroom has a drip." 

 Ray's eyes were huge as he watched the long-haired police observer with
his partner, but he hardly breathed, scared of interrupting. 

 "I can...I can hear..." Fraser's eyes shot open. "Heart beats. I can hear
my own, yours'." 

 Blair smiled, careful to keep his voice low. "That's good, Constable,
very good. You'll learn to be able to tell whether or not someone is
lying, or excited, or scared, just by listening to their heart beat. Now
focus again, see if there's anything else you can filter out." 

 Fraser nodded, and there was another long silence. "I can hear...I can-" 

 The phone rang. 

 Instantly, Blair lunged for the interfering noise, but it was too late.
Fraser let out a hoarse cry, his hands clamping to his ears too late,
doubling painfully into himself. 

 Ray jerked to his feet. "What is it? What happened? Frase, buddy?" 

 Blair dropped the telephone receiver off its rest onto the floor and
turned back to Fraser instantly. "It was too loud. We have to get him
back. Help me out." He sank down next to Fraser, lowering his voice.
"Alright, Constable, it's okay." He hesitated. He hadn't yet taught Fraser
about the dials, how could he talk him back from this? "Detective, get
over here and help me. Fraser? Constable, relax. It's over now. Just calm
down and try to turn down the level on your hearing. Detective?" 

 Ray stood frozen, eyes on the clenched, pained expression on his friend's
face. 

 Blair looked up at him. "Detective, get over here!" 

 Ray jerked and stumbled forward a few steps. 

 Blair turned back to Fraser, who was starting to tremble where he was
crouched, eyes squeezed shut tightly. "It's alright. You have to get
control over the level of your senses, Constable. Just picture a dial, one
that controls your sense of hearing. Right now that dial is set on ten.
You have to bring it back down, bring it to three." 

 Fraser shook his head frantically, his hands still blocking out the
thunderously loud sound of Blair's voice. 

 "Shit! Detective, you're his Guide, you're the only one that can do
this." 

 Ray shook his head, his eyes frightened. "I can't! It's hurting him, I
don't know what to do." 

 Blair jerked to his feet and went to the side of the officer. "Listen,
he's too new to this. If it was Jim anyone could probably talk him back
down, but Fraser is running on instinct here, and instinctivelly, he has
to have the voice of his Guide to get through to him. That's you." 

 "How do you know? I was the only person around whenever this happened.
Maybe I could just talk him back 'cause I was the only guy there." 

 "No! Any guy couldn't talk him out of it. There was a reason it was you
there, Kowalski. Now stop worrying about it and get over there. You see
how much pain he's in, go help him, damn it!" 

 At Blair's raised voice, Fraser sank further down, whimpering slightly. 

 The small sound, so strange from the Mountie, seemed to reach Ray where
Blair couldn't, and the blonde instantly forgot his fear, knowing only
that his friend was in pain. He hit his knees next to the larger man and
rested a hand on his shoulder. "Frase? It's okay, Frase, it's over now.
Yer gonna be fine, you just gotta relax and listen to me, okay?" Fraser
didn't relax. Ray turned bright, round eyes to Blair. "It isn't working!" 

 "Keep trying! This isn't an instant thing!" 

 "Frase? Come on, buddy, yer scarin me here. Just calm down, it's okay. Ya
gotta do what Sandburg said, okay? Ya gotta think of a dial. Think of the
stereo in my old place. You were always griping I kept it up too loud,
right? So imagine the volume control. You just gotta reach out and turn it
down, you hear me? Just turn it down, buddy." 

 As Ray and Blair looked on, Fraser slowly started to relax. His eyes were
shut tightly, and after a moment of silence the muscles clenched all over
his body began to relax. And then his hands drew away from his ears, and
his eyes slowly opened, blinking out at the wall in front of him. 

 Ray let out a breath, deflating in relief, before he suddenly wheeled and
faced Blair. "What the hell was that? I thought this was s'posed to be
helpin him out, what are you doin to him?" 

 "It was an accident, detective. It happens sometimes. It's going to get
easier, I promise." 

 "Yeah? When? He coulda been really hurt. What the hell were we thinking,
goin along with this stunt?" 

 "Detective, it's okay. He's going to be fine, and as soon as he learns
how to control it himself, he'll be-" 

 "What happens until then, huh? He gonna have to go through that shit
every day?" 

 "Ray." 

 Kowalski turned to his partner, anger instantly bleeding into concern.
"Hey, Frase, buddy, you gonna live?" 

 Fraser looked up at him with wide eyes, his voice hushed. "Ray....that
was..." 

 "I know. It was pretty fucked up. Look, we can just walk away from this,
you know? I'm not gonna let ya get hurt like that again." 

 Blair saw the fierce protectiveness gleaming in the slender man's eyes,
and almost smiled. 

 "Ray, it was...incredible." 

 "What?" 

 Fraser smiled, a sweet, almost delighted expression. "Right before the
telephone rang...I could hear everything. I could hear the blood racing
through my own veins, I could hear your clothes moving as you shifted. It
was amazing." 

 Ray swallowed. "That's great, Frase. But it's not worth it if it hurts ya
like that." 

 "Mr. Sandburg said it was an accident. It won't happen once I get control
over this." 

 "Come on! You were hurtin, Frase. That isn't good." 

 "Yes, Ray, I was in pain. But you brought me back." Fraser smiled at his
friend. 

 Ray felt a tug in his chest, but didn't give in. Shaking his head, he
stood and moved across the hotel room towards the bathroom. 

 "Detective?" 

 Ray turned back in the doorway. "Look, Sandburg, this whole thing is
screwed up. It sounds like a bad sci-fi plotline, and now it's startin ta
hurt him. If you guys really wanna go through with this, if Frase really
wants ta do it, I know I can't stop him. But it sucks, okay? And I don't
want nuthin to do with it." He glared at Blair, turned a rather apoligetic
look to Fraser, and moved into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind
him. 

 "Oh dear," Fraser replied quietly. 

 Blair frowned at the shut door, then turned to the Mountie. "You think
he's serious?" 

 Fraser stood shakily. "It's difficult to tell with Ray. He has a rather
explosive temper at times, and it will perhaps be possible after he has
calmed down to change his mind." 

 Blair let out a breath. "What about you, Constable? Do you want to keep
pursuing this?" 

 "Please call me Benton. Or Fraser, as most of my friends do. And if what
you were saying is correct, I really haven't got much of a choice, do I?
This is what I was born to be." 

 Blair smiled slightly. "Yeah. And so was Ray. He'll realize it, sooner or
later. Until then, I'll do what I can to help you get control." 

 Fraser's reply was cut off by a knock at the door of the room. Blair went
and opened it to see Jim standing there, his face creased in concern.
"Jim! Are you back already?" 

 "Yeah. We've got the name of that witness that spotted Pranav at a gas
station off 20. Is everything okay here?" His eyes went past Blair to
where Fraser stood calmly. 

 "Uh...yeah. Kinda. Why?" 

 "I called from the truck. I heard what was going on." 

 Blair looked back at the still disconnected phone line. "Oh, yeah! I
forgot about that. We're okay. We were in the middle of testing his
hearing when the phone rang." 

 Jim winced in empathy. "Sorry about that," he said to Fraser. "I've been
through it myself." 

 Fraser smiled politely. "No lasting harm done, I think." 

 "Good. Now how about we get out of here and talk to that witness." 

 Blair glanced over at Fraser, then shot a meaningful look at the bathroom
door. 

 Fraser held up a finger, meaning for Blair to wait a moment. 

 And, right on cue, the bathroom door opened, and Ray strolled out
casually. "Alright, guys. We've got a witness. Pitter patter, let's get at
'er." He headed right for the door, brushing past Jim and Blair without a
word. 

 Fraser followed his friend without a word, and Jim turned a confused look
to Blair. 

 The student shook his head. "Let's go." 

 Jim couldn't help but studying the new Sentinel out of the corner of his
eye as he drove. He was...different, this guy was. Talking like a school
textbook, always so polite. Not anything like Jim, at any rate. But Blair
was right, he was a good guy. And the more time he spent with him, the
less his hair stood on end whenever they got close to each other. 

 That other guy, though, Jim wasn't so sure about. He was a lot like Blair
in some ways, energetic and excitable, but that was where the similarities
ended. The slender, angular face and quick-moving eyes were a lot less
relaxed than his own easy-going partner. He was slightly older, and his
moods changed so quickly it made Jim dizzy. One second he was bouncing
around as hyper as Blair, the next he was boiling in anger, and then he
was quiet and almost shy. He was also scared out of his mind, Jim could
tell that. As soon as they had started talking about him being Fraser's
Guide, his heart had been pounding nonstop. Jim recognized the
I'm-not-good-enough-to-do-this look that came into his eyes, it was one
Blair got far more often than he should. But Ray tried to hide his
self-doubt under anger or jokes, while Blair simply expressed his doubts
and tried to deal with them. 

 Blair was spending the trip as they drove talking, trying to forward
Fraser's training, but Jim couldn't shake the feeling that of the two of
them, Ray Kowalski was going to need the most help. If nothing else, than
to get over the idea he couldn't be a Guide. 

 Even as Blair and Fraser talked about the next steps in his Sentinel
training, Ray sat stiff and unmoving, obviously struggling to stay quiet
and not interfere. Jim was surprised that Blair the Perceptive hadn't
grasped that yet. 

 They pulled up to the small gas station as the sun was setting, and the
door into the small office opened automatically, revealing a small,
hunched man with a weathered, craggy face. "You boys here for gas or
answers?" 

 Jim grinned, instantly liking the old man. "Answers. I'm Detective Jim
Ellison, we spoke briefly on the phone." 

 "Of course, come on in. You didn't tell me you were bringing a crowd." 

 "Sorry, old-timer. We're stuck ta him like glue." 

 "Ray!" Fraser spoke instantly, his tone reproachful. "That was hardly a
polie thing to say." 

 The old man laughed, a high-pitched, raspy sound. "That's alright, son.
I've heard worse." He did turn a sharp gaze to Ray. "You need to borrow a
comb, sonny?" 

 Fraser hid a smirk. 

 Ray almost flushed, but gritted his teeth and moved past them into the
small office. "No thanks, gramps." 

 "Come on in and I'll tell you all about that foreigner that stopped here
a few days ago." 

 Jim and Blair followed him into the dim building, and Fraser took a last,
appreciative look at the surrounding forests as he went in after them. 

 "Alright, what can I tell you? I've already made a statement to some of
you boys." 

 "Yes, I've read it. I was just hoping you would go over it again for me.
This was three days ago, right?" 

 "About that. It was middle of the day, I was about to take off for lunch.
The car came in right as I was hanging up the sign. Your man got out and
asked if I'd hang around long enough for him to fill up. He was polite
about it, so I said sure. He got his gas, paid cash, and took off. Nothing
else to say, really." 

 "What kind of car was he driving?" 

 "Not sure exactly. Something new. Red, way too shiny for these parts, if
you know what I mean." 

 "Did he say anything while he was here, anything at all?" 

 "Well, we talked for a minute while he was paying. I asked where he was
headed, he said he had to see some people further east. Nothing specific.
I asked him what kinda job bought that car for him, he said something
like...wait...yeah. He said 'nothing a man like you would appreciate.'
Struck me as odd, but like I said, I get told stuff like that a lot. He
figured I was a bumpkin." The old man glanced at Ray, who was poking
around the small, almost bare aisles, seemingly not paying attention. 

 "Is there anything else you can think of?Anything at all?" 

 "Nope. I've been thinking about it since your call. I just can't help you
anymore. Didn't look at the license plate or anything, sorry to say." 

 Jim smiled slightly. "That's alright. Very few people do unless there's a
specific reason. Do you mind if we look around outside?" 

 "Not at all. Don't know what you think you can find, but go right ahead."


 Jim nodded his thanks and headed for the door, followed quickly by Blair.


 Fraser turned to where Ray was studying a can of something, and cleared
his throat. "Ray?" 

 His partner glanced over at him. "Yeah, I'll be out in a sec." 

 Fraser studied him for a moment, brow furrowed, but nodded and left. 

 Ray watched him go after Jim and Blair, and looked down at the can in his
hand. He suddenly let out a tightly controlled growl and threw the can
with all his strength against the wall. It left a small crack in the
plaster as it hit, and Ray flinched, his anger momentarily drained. He
went and picked up the can, placing it back on the shelf carefully, and
moved to the door. "Sorry, old timer," he threw out to the man as he past.


 "Anytime, sonny. Hey, you need anything before you guys leave...a valium,
that comb I offered, you just let me know." 

 Ray glanced over at him, then found himself chuckling as he left. 

 Outside, he wasn't very surprised to see Fraser crouched down, Jim and
Blair standing near, examining the ground beside the gas pumps. "Hey,
Frase, try not to lick anything toxic." 

 Jim barely glanced over at him. "Shhh." 

 Ray frowned and moved closer, and heard Blair's voice speaking in that
quiet tone he'd used before. "Now remember, we're not looking for anything
out of place. Just something that can help identify the car he was
driving." 

 Jim was looking around them almost absently, obviously content to let
Fraser do the work, test his superpowers. Ray found himself clenching up
again, and quickly turned and headed for the truck before he said
something he would regret. Until he saw a glint out of the corner of his
eye and changed direction. 

 Fraser shook his head after another long moment and stood up. "I'm afraid
there's nothing here that could help us. Nothing I can detect, anyway.
Just oil stains and gas." 

 Jim nodded. "I'm with you. I think this is a dead end. Damn it." 

 Blair clapped a hand on Fraser's shoulder as he stood. "Hey, even
Sentinels have to do old-fashioned police work sometimes. We'll find
something else." 

 "Hey, guys?" 

 The three men turned to where Ray Kowalski stood near the edge of the
pavement that marked the gas station's drive. 

 Ray saw the comfortable hand Blair was resting on Fraser, and faltered
slightly before striding towards them. "Our bad guy is in a stolen red
late 90s Mercedes." 

 Fraser cocked his head and studied his friend. "How did you manage to
deduce that, Ray?" 

 The blonde shrugged. "The geezer in dere said it was new and shiny, he
knew it was red, and my guess is not a lot of Mercedes come through here."
He lifted his hand and flashed a gleaming metal hood ornament, tossing it
casually to Fraser. "And I doubt the guy drove it here from Canada or
bothered payin for it, so maybe you should get on the line with yer
captain and look fer a stolen car." 

 Jim felt himself getting stiff. No matter how insecure this little twerp
was, he needed to drop the attitude. "Look, Kowalski-" 

 "Yeah, yeah. Maybe you guys should stop tryin so hard to be Sentinels and
try to be cops." Ray moved past them towards the truck. 

 Jim gritted his teeth, but a hand on his arm stopped him from responding.
He looked down at Blair, who shook his head slightly. "I think this is
between them, big guy. Let's go in and use the station's phone, huh?" 

 Fraser followed his partner slowly, uncomfortable at the sudden change in
Ray. He couldn't help feeling he might have done something wrong, somehow
hurt the man's feelings again without realizing it. "Ray?" 

 "What?" Ray asked a little too harshly. 

 "What's wrong?" 

 Ray looked over at him, then back towards the station. "This is weirding
me out, Frase. Yer gonna end up gettin hurt again, and I can't help ya
'cause I got no idea what to do. We're gonna find this guy and go back up
north, and then what? Yer gonna still be this Sentinel thing, and these
two freaks aren't gonna be there ta help." 

 Fraser nodded to himself slightly. Of course, Ray was only worried that
he wasn't good enough to help Fraser, and it was coming out as anger and
hostility. He knew his partner well enough by now to have been able to
tell. "Ray, the only reason you can't help me is because you have refused
to. You have the ability, we have seen that. You have talked me out of
these zone-outs before, and it was you that helped me in the hotel room
earlier. Blair has said that there is one Guide for every Sentinel, and
you are mine. If you choose not to help me, it's true, I may end up being
hurt." Fraser felt a twinge as he spoke -- it was wrong of him to play on
Ray's sense of guilt, but he was eager to have his friend and partner by
his side through this new beginning in his life. 

 "Frase...I don't know what I'm doing. I got no clue. That guy Blair has
done the research, he's read the books. You should stay with him, get him
ta help ya. I'm gonna end up screwing up like I always do and gettin ya
killed." 

 Fraser smiled slightly. "Ray, how long have we been working together?" 

 Eyes narrowing, Ray shrugged. "'Bout three years." 

 "In all that time, we have depended on each other for our lives, haven't
we? I have depended on you as you have on me. And not one time have you
ever let me down. I can trust you with my life, Ray, I have never doubted
that. I would like to also trust you with this. You are the only person I
would feel comfortable with, the only one I can truly depend on to help
me. If you say no, I won't argue. But I have to make it clear first that I
have complete faith in you, and you should have more faith in me and
yourself." 

 Eyes pained, Ray met Fraser's steady gaze. "What if I screw this up,
Frase?" 

 "You won't." 

 "How d'you know?" 

 "As I said, Ray, I trust you. And I should remind you that the capacity
for failure is just as strong in my half of this." 

 Ray snorted. "Yeah, like you ever screw anything up." But he met Fraser's
eyes, and a sudden resolve seemed to stiffen in him. "Y'know, Frase, I
been through a lot of crap in my life, but nuthin makes me feel as bad as
I feel when I let you down. If you trust me, I guess I'll do my best ta
help ya." 

 Fraser lit up, a grin floating over his features before he could control
himself. "That's...I'm-I'm glad." 

 The big smile seemed to remove the last of Ray's uncertainty, and he
reached out and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You remember all that
stuff Blair was askin about whether dere was some kinda connection between
us?" 

 Fraser nodded slightly. 

 "Ya think he was right?" 

 "That there is a force between us that will not allow us to leave each
other?" Fraser averted his eyes, suddenly uncomfortable as he always was
talking about his own feelings. "I...I hope so." 

 Ray grinned, feeling suddenly much more certain about this whole thing.
"So do I, Benton buddy." 

 Blair peered out the window as Jim spoke to Simon, and he watched the two
men outside apparently come to an agreement. He saw the smiles and ease of
tension between them, and grinned. Yep. This Sentinel thing was definitely
more than two men could fight. He had guessed that with his and Jim's
experience, and now it was confirmed. He had no doubt Ray would come
around, and settle in to being a Guide. 

 "Great, thanks Simon." Jim hung up the phone and nodded at the old man
before heading to Blair's side. "We've got it. Red '98 Mercedes stolen
from Bellingham four days ago. Simon's gonna try and get Rafe and Brown to
scout around for it. We're just going to have to keep following the trail,
see if we can find anything else." He followed Blair's gaze to their two
new freinds. "They okay?" 

 "Yeah, they're fine. Go easy on Ray, huh, Jim?" 

 "Sure. I know the guy's scared. I can kinda remember how he feels." 

 "Me, too." Blair turned a smile to his partner. "We've come a long way
since those days, haven't we?" 

 Jim met the blue eyes of his best friend and grinned affectionately. He
threw an arm around the smaller man's shoulder. "You know it, Chief." 

 A throat cleared behind them, and they turned to face the old man that
ran the gas station. "You boys may not want to get too affectionate around
here. There are some folks who aren't so understanding about that
alternative lifestyle thing." 

 Blair opened his mouth to explain, but Jim surprised him by just laughing
and pulling Blair closer. "You heard him, babe. Let's get out of here
before we get lynched by the natives." 

 Blair's eyes grew in surprise, but he went along without a word. Once
they were outside, he pulled away from Jim and elbowed him in the side.
"Listen, 'babe'. If I need you to damage my already tenuous relationship
with the ladies, I'll let you know, okay?" 

 Jim laughed and headed for the truck without a word. 

 "I can't believe we're seriously supposed to drive around this city
looking for one car." 

 Henri Brown glanced over at his partner. "Would you cheer up? This is the
cushiest assignment we've gotten in a while." 

 "Cushy?" Rafe van Rij looked over incredulously. 

 "Sure, man. We've got all day to motor around. We've got some tunes,
we've got good company, we don't have to worry about getting shot at or
doing paperwork. And best of all, we're doing this as a favor to Simon, so
we get to lord that over him for the next few days." 

 Rafe shook his head. "Alright, Pollyanna, thanks for showing me the
bright side. Now why don't we pull in and get some lunch?" 

 "You know what Simon said. We gotta stay on the road." 

 "So let's fast food it. Come on, H, I didn't get breakfast." 

 Henri grinned. "Overslept again, huh? I thought I saw a wrinkle in your
pants today, knew there had to be a reason." 

 "There's a Wonderburger, H. Pull up. And shut up about the clothes,
alright? Not all cops have to slum it." 

 "Slum it? I'm offended." 

 "No you're not. Pull up, man, come on." 

 "I don't get how a guy who can't wear a less than five hundred dollar
suit can consider Wonderburger fine dining." 

 "I'm about to pass out from hunger, H. Now stop joking around and pull
the damn car in." 

 Henri turned the wheel obediently, smirking. "You hungry enough to treat
your partner?" 

 "Come on, you know I'm poor." 

 "Sell the shoes." 

 "Alright, alright. I'll treat you. Jesus." 

 Henri turned into the drive thru line, and the banter between the
partners suddenly fell silent. Both men stared out the windshield for a
long moment, silent and slack-jawed. 

 "Can't be. I just wouldn't believe it," Rafe said finally. 

 Henri dragged his eyes away from the shining red Mercedes in the line in
front of them long enough to check the license plate number on the piece
of paper on the dash. He chuckled lowly, and it grew to a full-out laugh
as he showed the paper to Rafe. 

 The younger man echoed the laughter. "Should we...should we call Simon?" 

 "Maybe we should wait and see what he orders. Knowledge is power in the
face of your enemies," Henri responded solemnly. 

 Rafe roared with laughter. "Maybe we should just let him go and try and
find him again tomorrow. This just isn't a fair test of our talents." 

 Henri pulled his cell phone out and dialed Simon's number. "Man, I wonder
if Jim and Blair are gonna be disappointed the case was so easy to crack."


 Rafe shrugged. "Who cares? We deserve to get one damn win under our belts
for a change." 

 "Hey, Simon. It's Brown. We've...uh, we've found our man." 

 Rafe snickered quietly. 

 "No, I guess we just knew where to look." Henri flashed Rafe a grin,
holding in another laugh as he listened. "Yeah, okay, Simon. We'll get
back to ya." He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. "He wants us
to follow him, make sure he's working alone. He's gonna call Blair and
Jim." 

 Rafe wiped his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Whew. Man, I can't decide
whether to tell them the truth and get a laugh out of it, or pretend this
actually took skill." 

 Henri chortled, pulling out of the drive-thru line as the Mercedes got
it's food and took off. "We'll talk about it later. Let's just make sure
we don't lose the guy in traffic or something." 

 "That's all you, driver." Rafe frowned suddenly. "Oh, shit!" 

 "What?" 

 "When the hell am I gonna get to eat lunch now?" 

 "Now the most important thing between Sentinel and Guide, and the hardest
to learn, really, is keeping up the line of communication." 

 "How d'ya mean?" 

 "I mean, you have to tell each other everything. Man, you have no idea
how whacked out things can get between you if you don't communicate. Now
Jim here is a closed book. Likes to order people around, hates to talk
about his feelings. Y'know, macho GI Joe to the highest power." 

 "Well, fuck you very much, Darwin." 

 Blair grinned over at his partner, then turned back to the men sitting
across from them in the crowded booth. "You two seem fairly close, so I'm
hoping this won't be a big problem for you. You have to let each other
know everything. Thoughts, feelings...Fraser, it'll get to where you
notice certain things that aggravate your senses. Spices in foods,
colognes, hair products, whatever. You have to take note of every one of
these things. You too, Ray. You have to check carefully before taking any
kind of medications. NyQuil can be almost deadly to Jim here, but he can
handle most antibiotics no problem." 

 "No worries dere. As long as there's pregnant whale membranes and brown
lichen available, Frase here doesn't need meds." 

 Fraser smiled slightly, but remained uncharacteristically quiet. 

 "This sound okay to you, Fraser?" Blair hadn't failed to notice the
silence. 

 There was a pause, and Fraser cleared his throat slightly. "I am...I am
not very good at speaking about my feelings, I'm afraid." 

 Blair grinned. "You can learn, Ben, don't worry. If Jim here can learn,
anyone can." 

 "And you'll have to," Jim added. "You two will have to depend on each
other for everything." 

 Ray shot Fraser an affectionate smile. "Hey, we're used to that, at
least." 

 "This goes beyond any dependance you may have known from your cop days,
Ray." 

 Ray chuckled. "Cop shmop. Try living in the Arctic for months at a time
with no one but yer partner and some sled dogs, and see if you don't come
out of it depending on each other." 

 "It's a good thing Diefenbaker isn't here to hear you say that. I believe
it would hurt his feelings." 

 "Whoa, hang on. The Arctic?" Blair's eyes were glowing with sudden
interest. 

 "I'm afraid Ray has a tendency to exaggerate. We were actually slightly
below the Arctic Circle for the first month of our journey." 

 "Hey, when it's that far north, who can tell the difference?" Ray shook
his head slightly, holding up a hand to silence Fraser's reponse. "I know,
I know. You can." 

 "I thought you guys were cops? Don't you work in Chicago?" 

 Fraser and Ray exchanged another look, and the stories began. They
quickly traced the passage of their relationship, starting with Fraser
first arriving in Chicago and being partnered with Ray Vecchio, to Ray
Kowalski's arrival as Vecchio's double while the Italian cop went
undercover, to Ray Vecchio's return and the arrival of Robert Muldoon. 

 Fraser's eyes glowed as he talked. "It was a most climactic time for
everyone involved, really. Ray was afraid of losing his long-held position
to the real Ray Vecchio, I was learning of Robert Muldoon's crimes aginst
my family. And once we were on the plane heading for Canada-" 

 "And don't let him mislead you. We were actually ON the plane, as in,
hanging on the wing, when it took off." 

 "Well, yes, if you want to be technical. And shortly after arriving in
the Territories-" 

 "Which is Canadian fer 'after gettin thrown out of the moving plane
without parachutes and landing in thirty feet of snow in the middle of
Arctic Nowhere.'" 

 "Oh, it wasn't as bad as all that. Anyway, we had a pack of supplies, and
we made our way to a station of officers who were preparing to go after
Muldoon." 

 "This was after we climbed a mountain, trekked through miles of nothing,
then fell into a crevasse in the ice and nearly died a hundred feet under
the surface of the earth." 

 "Ray, there is simply no need to be so melodramatic. It wasn't a hundred
feet, not quite, and it would have taken us at least an hour or so longer
than we were there to actually start suffering from hypothermia." 

 "I DID suffer from hypothermia, remember?" 

 "How could I forget? I have to say, Ray, you do tend to fall prey to
sickness very easily." 

 "Easily?!? We were in the friggin Arctic, Frase!" 

 "But, returning to the story, we soon joined with our RCMP allies and
tracked Muldoon to his meeting place." 

 "Meeting place where he was supposed to ren...rende...meet up with a
fully armed Russian submarine." 

 "Ahh, yes, a most interesting twist. There was a rather glorious battle
between good and evil, which led, of course, to our defeat of Muldoon." 

 "Yep. So after that we was kinda set loose, y'know? And Frase had told me
about this explorer guy Franklin, and how no one had ever been able to
find his hand, so I thought it would be cool fer us to go look for it." 

 "Quite a surprise to me at the time, of course. I was, I admit, most
reluctant at the idea of ending our time together. I knew I could not
leave my home again, but wouldn't have presumed to ask Ray to remain with
me-" 

 "So I had to ask him if I could." 

 Blair, listening to the two men reciting with a huge grin, beamed at
them. "I told you there was a bond there." 

 Ray shrugged neutrally. "Maybe. So we went on our adventure. And when we
had to go back to work, I signed on as a liason to the RCMP, and Fraser
and I stayed partners in the great white north. And that's about it." 

 Jim shook his head in wonder. "Now that is a hell of a story." 

 Ray grinned crookedly. "Yeah, actually it is. So what about you two? I
got a feeling that nobody with this Sentinel thing could have lived a
boring life." 

 Blair lit up, and Jim happily gave him the floor, letting Blair relate
their own story to the other Sentinel and Guide. He took them through
Jim's background, only briefly mentioning his time in Peru, and his own
fascination with Burton and the Sentinels. He told them about their first
meeting, and Jim nearly getting himself mowed down by a truck after a
zone-out. They laughed at the saga of how Blair got himself attatched to
the Cascade PD. He told them about the press release that nearly exposed
Jim to the world, and how Blair had to give up his own career and
reputation to protect him. And then they told of Jim's mending of the
mistakes of that case, the second press conference that led to the
restoration of Blair's name and returning everything to normal. 

 "And since then, we've actually managed to stay out of the spotlight, for
the most part. Surprisingly enough." 

 Fraser studied the two of them for a moment. "Who is Alex?" 

 Blair froze. "Alex? How did you..." 

 "I'm afraid that when I zoned out at the airport, I had been listening to
the two of you speak. I heard Mr. Ellison say that he felt around me the
way he felt around someone named Alex. I presume he or she was another
Sentinel?" 

 Blair swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, she was. She was...well, she was one of the
bad guys. She..." He shrugged, glancing over at Jim for support. 

 Jim hesitated. "She was a Sentinel without a Guide. She was eventually
driven insane by her own greed and her inability to control her senses.
She's locked up tight in a mental hospital now, in a coma the doctors are
sure she'll never wake up from." 

 Ray blanched slightly. "Is that...whoa. Is that what happens if there's
no Guide around?" 

 Blair thought about it. "Alex was rotten to the core. She partially
destroyed herself, but I have no doubt her senses and lack of control
would have done it eventually." 

 Ray looked over at Fraser, his expression neutral, but his eyes speaking
volumes. I could have abandonded you to that fate, he seemed to say. 

 Fraser understood the look perfectly, with the ease of knowing his
partner so well, and he smiled at Ray reassuringly. But you didn't, and
you wouldn't have, he responded wordlessly. 

 Ray relaxed slightly, but his eyes were still troubled. 

 Blair and Jim watched the exchange between the men, not following exactly
what was expressed. But Blair knew now that as much as Fraser might hate
expressing his feelings, these two men would probably always be able to
communicate. 

 The rest of the meal, and the ride back to Ray and Fraser's hotel room,
were spent in comfortable, relaxed conversation, and Blair was left with
an overwhelming sense of contentment at the end of the night. 

 Until they got to the loft and saw the answering machine button flashing.


 Blair stuck around long enough to listen to the first message. It was
Simon. "Good news, gentlemen. Our target has been spotted. Jim, I don't
know why you're not answering your cell phone, but you'd better hurry and
get in touch with me before my other pair of detectives steal your glory."


 Jim grinned up at Blair. "Good news for once, whaddaya know?" 

 Blair laughed slightly and headed for his room to drop his things. 

 Jim went for the kitchen as the messages continued. Some random woman
calling for Blair -- surprise, surprise, and then Simon's voice rang out
again. This time sounding very different. 

 "Jim? Blair? Call me as soon as you get home. I'll be at the station,
whatever time it is. Please." Simon sounded hoarse and stiff. 

 Jim went back to the phone and dialed without a word. 

 "Banks." 

 "Simon, what's wrong?" 

 "Jim, where the holy hell have you been?" 

 Jim started in surprise at the sickened tone in his friend's voice. "We
were with our liasons from Canada. What's wrong?" he repeated. 

 "Pranav is in Cascade. He's got allies here. He's got access to our
communications, he's got a full working knowledge of this city, and he's
apparently got a device large enough to have sent us word that if we don't
comply with his demands, a few blocks of downtown Cascade will cease to
exist." 

 Jim sat down heavily, his eyes squeezing shut. "Shit," he breathed out
with feeling. 

 "Jim." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "He's also got Rafe and Brown." 

 Jim sat in stiff silence for a minute before he could gather his emotions
enough to reply. "We'll pick up Ray and Fraser and be there in ten." He
hung up without waiting for a response. "Blair?" 

 His partner appeared in his doorway. "Bad news?" 

 "Get your jacket back on, we're going to the station." 

 Blair came out a step, concerned at the lack of color on his roommate's
face. "Jim, what's-" 

 "Do it!" It was almost a shout, and Blair jumped, turning and going back
to his room without a word. Jim let out a low curse, but made no move to
apologize. Blair would understand soon enough. He picked up the phone and
dialed the hotel. 

 "Alright, Frase, you gotta focus here. This is an easy one. I guess. Just
focus and take a deep breath and all that, and tell me what ya smell." 

 Fraser had to smile somewhat. Ray was trying, he really was. And it did
somehow seem easier to shut his eyes and focus without fear, when it was
Ray's voice he was hearing. He inhaled deeply, then worked to seperate and
idnetify the number of odors that assailed him. "I can smell....garlic." 

 "Garlic?" 

 Fraser opened one eye with a grin. "You got some food on your sleeve." He
shut his eye again. 

 Ray glanced down at his sleeve, grinning at the small stain. "Okay,
that's good." 

 "Not very surprising, either. Ray, you eat like a-" 

 "Concentrate, Frase," Ray cut his friend off with a grin. "What else?" 

 "I can smell the soap I used this morning. Your hair products, whatever
they are. Laundry detergent....the sheets of the bed. They use too much. I
can smell....perfume. Faded, maybe one of the cleaning ladies was wearing
it." 

 "Hang on, Frase. The cleaning ladies haven't been here since before we
checked in." 

 "I didn't notice that either of our new friends has an affinity for White
Diamonds, Ray." 

 "You mean you can smell some old stale perfume from this morning?" 

 "I believe so. Or perhaps it's coming from another room." 

 Ray shook his head, his eyes shutting briefly. "Okay, that's enough fer
now. Let's just leave it alone and get some shut-eye, okay?" 

 Fraser opened his eyes and nodded, unable to hide a smile. "This is
really quite remarkable, Ray. To think, it was in my power all this time
to focus so much, and I just didn't know." 

 "Yeah, well, just be gad ya didn't figure it out too long ago, cause then
I would'ta been dere to help ya." 

 "I am glad, Ray," Fraser replied seriously. 

 Ray glanced over at Fraser, and their gazes met for a moment. He smiled
finally. "Yeah, me too." 

 Fraser returned the smile, then cleared his throat gruffly. "Now, do you
wish to use the restroom first, or shall I?" 

 "Go on. I'm gonna check out the tv, see if they've come up with any good
shows since we left the US." 

 "A wild goose chase, I'm afraid. But if you insist." Fraser headed for
the bathroom. 

 Ray flopped on the bed, grabbing the remote control and turning on the
television, just as the phone beside the bed rang. 

 Muffling a groan, Ray hit mute and picked up the phone. "Look, my
roommate is a walking alarm clock. We don't need a wake-up call." 

 "Ray? It's Jim." 

 "Hey. What's wrong?" 

 "We're on our way over there. Got some news about Pranav, not good. We
have to get to the station." 

 "Gotcha. We'll be waiting." Ray tossed the phone back towards its cradle
and stood swiftly. "Frase, nix the bath, we've got-" 

 The door opened and Fraser came out, holding his serge in one hand,
straightening his shirt in the other. "I heard, Ray, thank you." 

 Ray blinked over at him. "You heard? What Jim said?" 

 Fraser nodded, allowing himself another smile. "I was testing myself." 

 "Oh, you were testing yourself." Ray nodded sublimely, then lunged across
the space between them and smacked Fraser on the arm. "Don't do that!" 

 Fraser's look of surprise was almost comical. "Whyever not?" 

 "You coulda had one of those zone things, and then I'da had to break the
door down to get to ya, okay? What if someone had knocked on the door or
somethin? You forgettin what happened last time you was listening too
hard?" 

 Fraser let out a breath. "No, I'm not forgetting. But Blair said with
practice comes control." 

 "Well, right now you don't practice unless I'm right there with ya, got
me?" 

 "Yes, Ray." 

 "I mean it, Frase. You want me to be yer Guide, ya gotta listen to what I
say." 

 Fraser's mouth twitched, but he managed to stay solemn. "Understood." 

 "I got a call from Henri around noon saying they had located the car. I
told him to follow Pranav, to make sure he was working alone. When I
didn't hear back for a couple of hours, I got worried and called Henri's
cell. It wasn't Henri that answered." Simon's worry and exhaustion were
evident as he briefed the four men. "Pranav has informed me that Rafe and
Brown are just extra security. He has a list of demands he'll be sending
us in the morning, and if we don't go along with him, he's going to strap
my two men to a bomb large enough to wipe out the warehouse district." 

 "God damn it," Jim breathed, his jaw clenched in anger. 

 "Do you have any idea what these demands are going to be, Captain?" 

 Simon glanced over at Fraser. "He wants to go back home, he said that
much." 

 "Back to Canada?" Ray glanced at Fraser in surprise. "He can't be that
dumb. He's gotta know that no matter who in America he threatens, the
RCMP'll be all over his ass the second he crosses the border." 

 Simon nodded. "Apparently he thinks he's got enough leverage to control
the law on both sides of the fence." 

 "He's in fer a surprise, then." 

 Simon shot sharp eyes to Fraser and Ray. "Look, if he's got a device
large enough to be threatening what he's threatening, it'll do just as
much damage in Canada as it would here. And if he's planning to hold on to
my men, you had better hope that your Mountie friends don't do a damned
thing to endanger their lives out of some we-always-get-our-man code,
okay?" 

 Fraser opened his mouth, but it was Ray that spoke first, his voice
serious. "Actually, Captain Banks, the code of the RCMP is to Maintain the
Right. They aren't some kind of vigilante force, and they would treat this
as a hostage situation and take it seriously, no matter what nationality
the hostages are." 

 Fraser glanced at his partner, mingled surprise and pride in his eyes,
before turning back to Simon. "But our duty here should be to stop Pranav
before he is allowed to get himself or anyone else back over the border." 

 Simon nodded stiffly. "Until he contacts us, we really have nothing to do
but sit around and wait." 

 Blair spoke up now. "You don't have any idea where Brown and Rafe first
spotted him?" 

 "No. Henri said they just knew where to look, which for those two could
mean any damn thing at all." 

 "Maybe we should scout out the warehouse district. If that's where he's
threatening, he's sure to have at least a coupla men there, right?" 

 Simon hesitated, but nodded his approval. "Alright. I don't want all of
you going, in case he calls back early." 

 "Yeah, but these guys don't know their way around the city, Simon." 

 Simon shrugged. "I'll divide you up. Constable, you and Blair can-" 

 "No," Jim and Ray spoke up at the same time. 

 "Excuse me?" Simon's glare was very real. 

 "Look, it may not be a good idea to split Ray and Fraser up. They're new
to this Sentinel thing, and-" 

 "And that's perfect. We'll leave Blair here with Fraser, and send Ray out
with you. That way you've got someone experienced on both teams." 

 "But Simon-" 

 "Arguing with me right now would not be a good idea, Jim." Simon said
flatly. "I've got missing men, and I'm not about to endanger their lives
by sending out two men who don't know this city and are dealing with being
a Sentinel and Guide at the same time. Now stop wasting time and get out
there." 

 It was Ray who answered now, his temper and volume elevated sharply.
"Look, Banks, I don't know who the hell you think you are, ordering Frase
and me-" 

 "Ray?" Fraser's hand clamped around his partner's arm before Simon's face
could get any darker. 

 "What?" 

 "The captain is right. Go with Jim, see what you can find." 

 "Frase...." 

 "Go, Ray. I'll be with Blair, I'll be fine." 

 Ray drew in a breath, wanting to argue, but recognizing the set in
Fraser's jaw. No, there would be no talking him out of this. Damn it.
"Fine. If you start trying to flex yer superpowers and end up killing
yerself, don't come bitchin to me." He turned and stalked out of the
office. 

 "Jim?" Simon turned to his officer. 

 Jim turned to Blair in response. "You'd better be damned careful, Chief."


 Blair rolled his eyes. "Jim, we're gonna be at the station. What could
possible go-" 

 "You know, after everything we've been through, I really would have hoped
you'd learn not to say things like that anymore." Jim met his Guide's eyes
for a minute, then turned and headed for the door, glaring out at the
world. 

 The three remaining men were quiet for a moment, then Blair cleared his
throat. "Well, I can say one thing." 

 Simon and Fraser turned to him expectantly. 

 "I'm glad that when those two tempers clash, we're gonna be safely tucked
away here and out of the line of fire." 

 Fraser thought about that for a moment. "Oh dear." 

 Ray's hands were squeezed into fists as the truck slung around another
corner. He muffled a curse, wondering briefly why he was feeling so
enraged. 

 Stupid. He knew why he was feeling bad. 'Cause for the first time in a
long time, him and Frase were split up. He was going after some dangerous
criminal, and the blue eyes watching his back weren't going to be the
Mountie's. 

 It was strange that something so small should make him feel so off
balance, but whatever it was, it had him ready to snap at the man driving
the truck. "Would you slow the hell down? Jesus!" 

 Jim gritted his teeth against an instant reply. "Just be quiet and let me
drive." 

 "Is that what you call this? Driving?" Ray snorted, knowing full well in
the back of his mind that he'd be driving the exact same way if he were
behind the wheel, but ignoring that fact at present. 

 Jim's hands curled against the steering wheel, so tight his knuckles were
white. "Listen, pal, I'm really not in a good mood right now, okay? You
want to start trouble over my driving, do it on the way back to the
station. For now I've got two good friends missing, and my partner's...." 

 "What? Yer partner is with my partner. You think Fraser isn't good enough
to take care of him?" 

 "I'm saying my partner shouldn't be left without a voice of reason, not
with his luck. And your partner seems to think he's just as indestructible
as Blair does." 

 Ray glared over at Jim, but managed to bite down his first response. His
temper served to get him into a lot of messes he should have been able to
avoid, and Fraser's influence had taught him, at least sometimes, to think
before he spoke. "Look, all I'm sayin is that if we come barrelling into
view in this truck, we're gonna be picked off in a second." 

 "Yeah, so what are you suggesting we do, Kowalski? Walk? In that
neighborhood?" Jim snorted. 

 Well, so much for diplomacy. "It'd be safer, the way you friggin drive,
asshole." 

 Jim slammed on the brakes, twisting the wheel to bring the truck to the
side of the road. Throwing it into park, he wheeled to face the man
sitting in the passanger seat. "You have a problem?" He had felt the
response coming without being able to control it. In the back of his mind,
a tiny voice that sounded like a certain anthropologist was shouting at
him, asking what he was doing, but he was able to ignore it. 

 Ray glared back at him. "Yeah, I've got a problem. You think you can
handle me?" 

 Jim opened his door and got out quickly. "Let's go." 

 Ray jumped out, and the two men met in front of the truck, tense, fists
clenched. "Alright, Ellison, I've had it up to here with yer god damned
bossy attitude. Ya think ya know everything, maybe you should take on
Pranav alone." 

 "You know, that's a great fucking idea. At least I wouldn't have to put
up with your rotten attitude slowing everybody down, you little punk
bastard." 

 "Who you callin a punk, you tightass macho sonofabitch?" 

 "Hey, fuck you, Kowalski!" 

 "No, fuck YOU, Ellison!" 

 The two men squared off, rigid, fists raised. 

 And then suddenly Jim couldn't hold back a grin. 

 A second later it turned into a laugh. 

 And Ray was right behind him, turning suddenly and smacking the hood of
the truck with a grin. "DAMN, that felt good!" 

 "You know what it's like to have a partner that never fights back? Always
talks about letting your feelings out, and taking calming breaths?" Jim
shook his head. 

 "Yeah? Try one that never even raises his voice. I got Mr. Rogers for a
friggin partner!" 

 They grinned at each other and moved back to the truck, getting in
quietly. 

 Jim started the engine and pulled back onto the road, thinking to
himself. Who would have thought he'd find someone in a similarly
frustrating situation? And this scrawny cop/Mountie guy, of all people. 

 Ray glanced over at him, his mind running much the same way. "Get's kinda
hard sometimes, don't it?" 

 Jim nodded with a sigh. "Sometimes, yeah. Your partner ever listen to
what you tell him?" 

 "Are you kiddin? Frase? I'm surprised he even invites me along half the
time." 

 "Huh. Well, with Blair he usually gets sucked in whether he wants to or
not." Jim spoke with a measure of sympathy towards his partner, but also a
slight amount of bitterness. For what, he wasn't sure. For Blair always
getting into so much trouble that Jim was left feeling ineffective as a
partner? Maybe. Because Blair had gone through so much, yet still jumped
in when he was told not to? Yeah, could be. 

 The rather solemn silence that had fallen was broken with a slight
snicker. 

 Jim glanced over at Ray. "Wanna share the joke?" 

 "I was just wondering how else they're alike. Blair, he's some kind of
boy-genious anthropologist, right?" 

 "Something like that." 

 "He'd probably get along with Frase. I'm tryin to solve a case, the
Mountie's rambling on about the Inuits and shit." 

 Jim nodded his understanding. "Sounds like Sandburg, except he's usually
taking an hour telling some story about the Oniconji tribe from east
Brazil." 

 "Ya get a scratch, he's there with some potion made of seal sperm to fix
ya up." 

 "Or trying to make you choke down a meal made of seaweed and fungus from
the rainforests." 

 Ray shook his head with a crooked grin. "And then you gotta worry about
him constantly, 'cause he won't carry a gun in America, and when he does
in Canada he only throws it at people." 

 Jim laughed. "Man, are you kidding me? Blair doesn't even like to touch
the things. The guy's a university professor." 

 "Frase would sooner open a door fer a bad guy then hurt him in any way,
and fer some reason, he can't go check the damn mail without stumbling
over a dead body, or gettin shot at or somethin." 

 Jim nodded again. "Blair could get kidnapped sitting in the loft," he
stated lowly. 

 Ray glanced over at him, seeing the darkness around Jim's eyes. "And
there ain't a damn thing we can do ta keep 'em in line, or keep 'em safe."


 Jim shrugged. "But we keep on trying, don't we?" 

 "Yeah, well, what else we gonna do? Not like they're gonna change anytime
soon." 

 Jim paused. "I don't think I'd want him to." 

 "Hell, no," Ray stated in agreement. 

 "Are we stupid, or just gluttons for punishment?" 

 "Both, Ellison. It's gotta be a little of both." 

 "This stinks. This really really stinks." 

 "Oh, would you relax? And shut your stomach up, man. It's louder than you
are." 

 Rafe glared over his shoulder, squinting the dim light. "I never got to
eat, H. I'm so terribly sorry my hunger offends you." 

 Henri laughed. "You are really in a bad mood, aren't you? Come on, Rafe.
Where's the old boy scout spirit?" 

 "We didn't have boy scouts in South Africa, okay? Besides, I don't see
anything about our situation worth being happy about." 

 Henri struggled for a second against the ropes binding them, and thought
about it. "Hey, we're together. That's something, right?" 

 "Yeah, great. I get to die in good company. Makes my day." 

 "And I get to die with Oscar the Grouch." Henri shook his head with a
sigh. 

 Rafe glanced over his shoulder again, trying to see his partner's face.
"Who?" 

 Henri twisted, surprised, and they could almost make eye contact. "What
do you mean, who? Oscar the Grouch. Sesame Street." 

 "Who is that? Some snitch we've talked to? I don't remember a Sesame
Street in Cascade." 

 "You are yanking my chain, man." 

 Rafe inhaled thinly, trying to loosen the bonds that had them attached
back to back. "I wouldn't yank anything right now, H. Too dangerous." 

 "You really have no idea what I'm talking about?" 

 "Not a clue." 

 Henri shook his head, facing forward again. "No boy scouts, no Sesame
Street. No wonder you're such a gloomy guy." 

 Rafe sighed. "What's the timer say?" 

 Henri glanced at the numbered display he could barely make out. "You
really want to know?" 

 "No. This stinks." 

 "So you said." There was a pause, and Henri grinned suddenly. "So when we
get out of here, we're not gonna tell anybody about how easy we thought
this was going to be, right?" 

 "No way in hell. Although it might make Simon feel guilty if he knew how
easily we could've had the bad guy before he told us to follow him." 

 "Bad enough to give us a couple of days off, maybe." Henri chuckled.
"That's something to be happy about." 

 "When we get out of these ropes and out of this room and away from this
bomb, remind me to smile." 

 Henri shook his head. "Sometimes I can't believe you're my best friend." 

 "Yeah? Maybe you should find that grouchy Oscar guy and be his partner." 

 "Maybe I should," Henri said with a laugh. "At least he can carry a
tune." 

 "What? Who the hell is that guy?" 

 Henri grinned and didn't answer. 

 "Fine. Be that way." 

 The door behind Rafe opened suddenly. 

 Simon was in his second hour of Inuit/Maori stories when he finally got
up and left Blair and Fraser to go to the break room. Coffee, he sometimes
thought, was the proof of God's existence. Even the worst-tasting coffee
imaginable at least gave a person caffiene. Except decaf, of course, but
in Simon's oh-so-humble opinion, decaf and coffee were two entirely
different things. 

 He could hear the voices as soon as he opened the door back into the
Major Crimes office, and he resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He
could be grateful at least that Constable Benton Fraser wasn't going to be
anything close to a permanent resident here. Two Blair Sandburgs worth of
stories and strange information was more than even coffee could protect
him against. 

 He hoped at least Jim and Kowalski hadn't killed each other yet. 

 He was making his way back to his office slowly, trying to convince
himself that he wasn't really interested in what Maniluktut did to fend
off the polar bear, when he heard his phone ringing. Sighing, he headed
for his office, expecting to get a loud, detailed bulletin from Jim
Ellison about how bad an idea sending them out together had been. 

 "Banks." 

 "Captain, I assume you know who this is." 

 Simon clenched a hand over the mouthpiece, pounding on the glass between
him and the two chatting men loudly to get their attention. "Pranav," he
gritted into the phone. 

 "Very good. My men have told me that you sent a vehicle out to search for
me." 

 Simon didn't respond, gesturing to Blair and Fraser, now standing at the
door, silent, to come in. 

 "May I suggest that was a mistake? You forget, I don't have to play my
trump card until I have to. I hold other cards that are important to you."
He paused, actually sounding reluctant. "For now, I will deal with the men
you sent after me. And to serve as a reminder that you shouldn't send
anyone else, I would like you to speak to someone." 

 There was a pause, and another voice sounded clearly into the phone.
"Hey, Cap." 

 "Brown," Simon tried to conceal his relief. "How you doing, Henri?" 

 "We're good. Rafe's a little grouchy. He missed lunch." 

 Simon smiled slightly. Leave it to Henri.... "Well, tell him I'll treat
you both to dinner tonight. What's going on there, Detective?" 

 "Not sure, sir. We're kind of attached to this bomb, see, but we're fine.
This guy Pranav seems to think you sent someone after us, but..." He
trailed off. 

 "Henri? Brown, you still there?" 

 "Uh...yeah, Captain. Pranav just told me to tell you that..." Henri's
voice was suddenly absent of humor. "Uh, that if you make another mistake
like that, you're going to lose more than one of us." 

 Simon's response was low. "What's he talking about, H?" 

 "I...don't really-" 

 Simon could hear the sudden gun shot loudly through the phone, but he
didn't pull it away. "Henri?" 

 "Rafe! RAFE!! God dammit, you son of a bitch. You son of a bitch! Rafe?" 

 There was a click, and the voices were silenced. 

 "Henri? Pranav?" Simon heard the dial tone in his ear, and shut his eyes
heavily. 

 There was silence in the office for a minute. 

 Sitting across from the captain, Fraser and Blair glanced at each other.
"Simon?" Blair asked tentatively. "What's going-" 

 Simon jerked out of his seat and threw the receiver against the wall with
all his strength. "Son of a BITCH!" He spun back to the two men. "Get Jim
on the phone, Sandburg. Do it!" he shouted as Blair opened his mouth to
speak. 

 Blair jerked out of his seat and ran from the office to Jim's desk, where
he grabbed the phone and speed-dialed. 

 Simon moved back behind his chair and grabbed the phone from off the
floor. He spun suddenly to face Fraser. "Were you listening to that?" 

 Fraser stiffened at the sudden attention, but shook his head,
self-reproach in his eyes. "I'm sorry, captain. I made a promise to Ray
not to-" 

 "Blair?" Simon went for the door without letting the Mountie finish. 

 "Got him, Simon." Blair handed the phone over without a pause. 

 "Jim, get your ass back over here. Pranav knows where you are, he says
he's going to deal with you." 

 "We're on our way." Jim's voice was tight. "What else happened, Simon?
Blair said-" 

 "Just get back here, Ellison." SImon handed the phone back to Blair
without another word, and went back to his office, slamming the door shut
behind him. 

 Blair raised the phone, but heard the click that meant Jim had hung up.
He set the phone down stiffly and faced Fraser, who stood just outside the
office door, tense and pale. 

 They had nothing to do now but wait and hope their partners got back
safely. And suddenly Inuit stories or tales of the jungle didn't seem like
a good way to fill the silence. 

 Jim jerked the truck in a U-turn, sending up a quick thanks that the
streets this far downtown were practically bare. 

 "What's going on, Ellison?" Ray asked, clutching the dashboard of the
truck but wisely making no comment about his driving. 

 "Pranav's on to us, we've got to get out of here." 

 Ray frowned, his eyes going out the window, scanning the nearby buildings
and roads as his hand instinctively reached for his revolver and pulled it
out in a quick move. 

 Beside him, Jim had his own gun in his lap, but both hands on the
steering wheel and he slammed down the gas pedal. 

 "Clear on this side," Ray reported grimly. 

 "Clear for now over-" Jim shut up abrumptly as a car suddenly screeched
out from an alley in front of them and drove straight out into the middle
of the road. "Shit!" He rammed the brakes. 

 Ray was prepared for the move, managing to keep his balance as he hit the
button to open the window. In a whipfire movement, he had a pair of thick
glasses out of his pocket and on his face. 

 Jim glanced over briefly, his eyes growing. 

 Ray grinned crookedly. "Just drive, and don't say a word." 

 Jim smirked, but hit the gas, twisting the wheel to where they would
barely make it past the car on the right side. 

 Ray leaned out the window, his face now devoid of smiles, aiming at the
car carefully. 

 The very first hand with a hint of metal that appeared, he fired, and the
limb jerked back and disappeared. 

 "Nice shot," Jim complemented as they gunned past the car. 

 Ray didn't waste time on thanks as all four doors of the car opened and
four different men climbed out. All dressed in normal-enough street
clothes, all armed. 

 The first shot cracked the rear windshield, but Jim let out an oath and
twisted the wheel, sending the truck into curves the men couldn't easily
predict. Gunfire shattered the silence of the street, but only one other
shot managed to touch the truck. 

 Ray tried to lean out, to take out the gunmen, but the truck's sudden
moves made it impossible. He fell back into his seat, cursing to himself. 

 Jim turned a grim smile to him. "Hang on." 

 Ray saw the look in his eye and clamped his hands on the dashboard. 

 Jim pulled the truck into a sharp u-turn, and suddenly they were facing
the car and the gunmen dead on. There was a moment of silence as the men
hesitated at the surprise move. 

 Ray could tell from the set of Jim's jaw what he was about to do, and he
almost grinned. Just like the old days. He gripped his revolver and
glanced over. "Just try to keep it steady, huh?" 

 Jim smiled. "You got it." He hit the gas, and the truck was suddenly
racing towards the immobile car. 

 Ray was half-way out of the window a second later, and after three shots,
two of the men were on the ground. The other two paniced, jumping away
from the car and taking off down either side of the street. 

 Jim stomped the brake, and the truck skidded to a stop two feet from the
stationary vehicle. 

 The two cops exchanged a grim look, and the doors opened on either side,
letting out the two men and sending them down two different alleys after
the gunmen. 

 A half hour after talking to Jim, Simon burst out of his office, breaking
his furious silence with furious noise. "Where the hell are they!?" 

 Fraser and Blair, sitting stiffly at Jim's desk, both jumped at the
shout. Blair stood and went to his captain. "They'll be here, Simon. They
might have gotten into some situation, but they'll get here." He turned to
Fraser for support, but the Mountie was staring towards the elevator,
ignoring them again. 

 Simon blinked suddenly and looked down at the long-haired man now resting
a comforting hand on his arm. "Since when do you ever have to comfort me?"
he asked. 

 Blair smiled tightly, but didn't answer. "So are you going to fill us in
on what happened?" 

 Simon's slight humor vanished. "I think he shot Rafe." 

 "What?!" 

 "As a warning." Simon turned to Fraser abruptly. "Just what exactly is
this guy Pranav running from in the first place? What would make him kill
an entire building full of officers, and now threaten an entire city?" 

 Fraser hesitated, but stood and joined the two men. "Pranav was being
tried for murder." 

 "Murder." 

 "He is the suspected killer of a dozen people in Quebec." 

 Simon inhaled heavily. "And for that he would kill so many more?" 

 Fraser shook his head grimly. "I believe that in Pranav's case, he does
not kill members of the RCMP or hold Washington police officers for ransom
to escape. I think he does it because he wants to. Pranav could have
gotten away by now, had he wanted to. He could driven straight to the
airport and taken off, and thanks to the rather undercover characteristic
of the chase, he could have gotten away with it. He could have easily made
his way through the Territories and down to the US border without killing
thirty-eight members of the RCMP. But he didn't. That tells you as much
about him as I know myself." 

 There was a solemn silence, and Simon and Blair exchanged dark looks. 

 "Where the hell is Jim?" 

 "Kowalski?" Jim headed down the alley, his anger fueling him long after
the adrenaline of the chase was gone. 

 Whoever these men were, they were serious. The man Jim had chased to the
rooftop of the apartments beside him had been willing to jump from the
roof to avoid being arrested. And Jim hadn't gotten close enough to stop
him. 

 Frustrated, and worried about the silence from the buildings around him,
Jim called out again. "Kowalski? Speak up, Ray?" He wanted to use his
hearing, to increase the sense until he could hear Ray's breathing or any
other sign of him, but at a time when the silence could be broken with
gunfire, it wasn't the smartest thing he could do. He wouldn't be able to
help Ray if he deafened himself. 

 So it was with a huge breath of relief that he saw the slender figure
limp out from across the street. 

 The two men met in front of the abandoned car, and Jim quickly kneeled
down to check out the two men Ray had taken out earlier. 

 Both dead. Damn it. "You killed them." 

 "No, I didn't," Ray wheezed out through heavy breaths as he came up. 

 Jim's eyes narrowed, and he examined them closer. Sure enough, each man
had two wounds. Ray had gotten them each in the arm. Someone else had put
neat holes in their chests. "God dammit! What the hell is going on here?" 

 "Is your guy dead?" 

 Jim nodded. "Yours?" 

 "Shot himself," Ray replied with disgust. "And now they got some guy
showing up just to kill the ones I wounded." 

 Jim stood up, resisting the urge to slam a fist into the car beside him.
He turned to Ray, seeing the arm he held clutched to one side, remembering
the limp. "You okay?" 

 Ray glanced down at himself, his expression almost irritated. "Yeah. I
tackled the guy, we fell, it wasn't pretty." He shrugged. 

 "We'd better get you checked out anyway. I don't think Fraser would be
too happy if I brought you back like....shit!" He turned and went for the
truck suddenly, grabbing his cell phone and dialing. 

 "Ellison's desk." 

 "Hey, Chief. Sorry for the delay, but we're alright. Tell Simon we're on
our way." 

 "Jim! I'll tell him. Be careful, okay? This guy is worse news than I
thought." 

 Jim glanced over at where the two corpses lay beside their car. "I'm
starting to realize that." He said a quick goodbye and hung up. "Kowalski,
let's get out of here." 

 Ray opened his mouth briefly, ready to ask about ambulances and other
cops and procedure, but he shrugged and headed for the truck as fast as he
could limp. 

 No paperwork slowing them down, no lawyers hanging over their heads. 

 That was the good thing about this case. 

 The ONLY good thing. 

 If there was a greater hell than this, Henri Brown wasn't aware of it.
"Come on, man. Stay with me, here. You gotta stay awake for me, Rafe." 

 "...enri, te'me bou o...cer." 

 Henri shut his eyes briefly. "Sorry, pal, you're gonna have to be a
little clearer. You know I can't understand that damned accent of yours."
He tried to smile, but failed miserably. 

 There was a pause, and he could feel a faint tremor rocking the back
pressed against his. "Tell...tell me bout....bout Oscar." 

 "Oscar?" Henri twisted his head, but like the last few times, all he
could see was the back of Rafe's head, fallen limply against his chest. He
drew in a breath. "Oscar...he's a furry green guy that lives in a trash
can and hates everybody." 

 There was a faintly gargled sound, and Henri sucked in a breath. "Rafe?
You okay?" The sound was repeated, and Henri recognized, buried under the
pained breaths, that his partner was laughing. 

 "Henri....y-you think....think I'm green?" 

 Another attempt at a smile, another grimace and abandoning of the
attempt. "Hey, don't knock it, pal. It's not easy being green." 

 Rafe drew in a deeper breath than usual, and Henri could feel the body
tense. "I....I know that one!" There was some more of the pained, liquid
laughter, and he started to speak-sing faintly. "Iss not easy...bein
greeeen." 

 Henri laughed slightly. "That's good, man. That's really good. Now you
have to talk to me here, Rafe. You have to tell me where you're hurt.
Maybe I can help you." He knew it was ridiculous. They were tied back to
back, so tightly that Henri could really do nothing else but feel the life
drain out of his partner. No greater hell.... 

 "...st'mch...stomach h'rts." 

 Henri flinched physically. Damn. Rafe had been shot in the stomach. Shit.
Shit. Shit. "You're going to be okay," he said finally, remarkably
unconvincingly. 

 "Henri?" 

 "What is it? What's wrong?" 

 "...why...?" 

 Brown swallowed. "Why what?" 

 "...why're there...so m'ny songs bout rainbows?" Rafe laughed faintly. 

 Henri grimaced. Rafe was getting hysterical now. 

 "...y'know...that one?" 

 Henri glanced back towards him. "Believe it or not, Cliff used to love
the Muppets. I think I still know every word they ever spoke." 

 "H...sing." 

 "What? You want me to sing?" 

 "...yeah." 

 Henri did smile at that, a small, sick expression. "I'm not really in the
mood right now, Rafe." 

 "...uh huh...who's grouch now?" 

 Brown's eyes squeezed shut. "You're going to be okay, Rafe. We're gonna
get out of here, I promise you." 

 "...don want promise....wan song." 

 Henri laughed tightly. "You're losing your mind, partner." 

 "Maybe," Rafe agreed faintly, but readily enough. "...c'sider it last
request." He giggled. 

 "If that's what it is, no way in hell am I gonna sing for you." 

 There was a harsh breath, and shudders began rocking the slim form. 

 Henri slammed his eyes shut again, trying to keep reign on his emotions
as the tremors passed. 

 Rafe finally relaxed enough to breathe, even thinner and more reedy than
before, and spoke with effort. "...enri....please?" 

 Well, that did it. No way he could say no to that. Drawing in a breath,
steeling himself, Henri tried to keep his voice steady. "Why are there so
many songs about rainbows, What's on the other side..." 

 "Jim!" Blair ran for the elevator as Jim stepped off. "What the hell took
you two so long?" 

 "Easy, Chief. Had a little meeting with some of Pranav's men. We're
fine." 

 "Ray!" Fraser bolted past them to where his partner was moving slowly out
of the elevator. He looked him up and down quickly. "Let's get you to a
seat." He sent a look to Jim that was as close to a glare as he could get.
"You call this fine?" 

 Ray chuckled slightly. "I'm just a little scratched, Frase. No need to
get yer serge in an uproar." 

 Blair snorted from where he and Jim trailed after the two of them. "Ray,
I haven't talked to you yet about Blessed Protector Syndrome." 

 Ray glanced back with eyebrows raised, but the good humor in the air
evaporated as Simon stepped out of his office and headed over. 

 "Ellison, Kowalski, glad you're okay. Now let's sit down and figure out
how to find this guy and wipe him and his men off the face of this earth."


 Jim's eyes grew as Simon wheeled and stormed back into his office,
obviously expecting them to follow. "What's going on here?" he asked Blair
lowly. 

 "Let him tell you," Blair responded darkly. 

 Jim and Ray exchanged looks, and the men followed the enraged captain in
silence. 

 Simon sat at his desk heavily. "Next time my phone rings, I want all four
of you sitting here, and I want Jim and Fraser to listen and find some god
damned clue that tells us where this guy is." 

 "Simon, what exactly is happening here?" 

 "We've got a complete psycho loose in this city. He's apparently got an
explosive device strapped to two of my detectives, one that now has a
bullet hole in him, who I'm not sure is still alive. This man Pranav has
no remorse, no feelings, and if we don't stop him now there's no telling
what he's going to do." Simon glared out at them. "Did you guys see
anything while you were out there? Anything that could help?" 

 Jim dug into his pocket and pulled out a tiny slip of paper. "This is the
license plate of the car that came after us. Maybe this one won't be
stolen." 

 "Fine, get on it." Simon nodded once, sharply, and turned back to some
papers spread around his desk. 

 Jim looked at him for another second, then turned and left the office.
Once they were all out and the door was shut, he turned to Blair. "Who..."


 "Rafe," Blair replied softly. 

 "Shit." Jim went to his desk to get to work. 

 "What d'ya want us to do?" Ray asked as he went to Jim's side and perched
on the desk. 

 Jim pecked at his keyboard for a second, then glanced up at him. "Not
much you can do." 

 Ray met his eyes for a minute, then turned to Fraser and Blair, standing
on either side. "Why don't you two guys go work on s'more of that Sentinel
stuff. I'll help Jim out." 

 Blair couldn't hide his surprise as Jim nodded his agreement. "Uh...okay.
Fraser, come on, we'll work on your touch. You guys sure you're okay
togeth...um, alone?" 

 "Yeah, go on," Jim waved him away without turning from the screen. 

 Blair and Fraser exchanged almost relieved looks, and crossed to the
other side of the office, where they wouldn't be disturbed. 

 A few minutes later, Ray let out a loud cheer. "Yes!" 

 Jim stood up, ignoring Fraser and Blair's immediate stares, and headed
for Simon's office. He threw the door open. "We've got it." 

 Simon came out a split second later. "What?" 

 "George Anthony. He was one of the shooters, the car was his. He's got a
criminal record a foot long, and we've got the addresses of all his known
accomplices." 

 Simon was about to answer, when his phone suddenly rang. 

 Henri looked up with a burst of anger as the door opened and Pranav came
strolling in, phone in hand. Deja vu. 

 "Yes, Captain Banks, I've heard about your men's evasion of my own. Very
good, I commend them. However, this won't sit well with your detectives." 

 Henri blocked out the sound of the man's voice as he felt movement from
behind him. 

 "...enri?" Rafe's voice was a whisper. 

 "Don't worry, Rafe," Brown replied grimly. "I'm not gonna let him hurt
you again." 

 "...enri....Jim." 

 "What about him?" 

 Rafe hesitated, then whispered even more quietly. "Sentinel." 

 Brown's eyes jerked back to Pranav. 

 Rafe was right. Whatever Blair had said in his press conference, Rafe and
Henri had figured out a long time ago that Jim Ellison wasn't normal. The
Sentinel thing had just given them a name for it. 

 And Jim would probably be listening to Pranav right now. So he spoke, not
to Rafe, but towards the phone, in a whisper. "Jim, I hope you can hear
me. We tracked Pranav out of town, over towards Westport. One of his men
has a cousin or uncle or something that's out of town right now. Last name
starts with Davi. Davis, or Davidson, something like that. Make your move
fast. Rafe isn't doing too good." 

 Pranav came over, still talking peacefully. Henri watched him, glaring,
as he approached the two officers. "...to remind you exactly who has the
upper hand here." He turned an appraising gaze to the two hostages. 

 Henri spoke up quickly, eager to stop his eyes from even looking at Rafe.
"Hey, why don't you loosen these ropes a little bit, we'll see who really
has the upper hand, you fucking coward." 

 Pranav's eyes glittered in the angry reaction Brown was hoping for, but
he seemed, if nothing else, more thoughtful than before because of it. He
kept moving, further into the room, until he was almost beyond Henri's
sight, studying Rafe. 

 Pranav grinned and came closer to the nearly unconscious detective. "I'm
afraid, Captain Banks, your officer isn't looking very good. Even his pale
race is not meant to be this white, I think." 

 Henri didn't have to fake the anger or think of the words this time.
"Leave him alone, you sick fuck!" His head twisted, but he couldn't see
what was happening. 

 "You should train your men to be more respectful, captain." Henri could
hear as Pranav stood, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

 Pranav moved around enough that Henri could see him, and so he could
watch helplessly as the man raised a leg, and brought it chopping down at
his barely conscious partner. "No!" he screamed too late. The impact of
the kick cut off his shout with a burst of breath. 

 Even in his weakened state, the kick at his stomach brought a wail from
Rafe's lips, and Henri could only feel as the sound drew out, then cut off
as his body went limp. 

 Seeing red, Henri twisted his head back to glare fire at Pranav. "I'm
going to kill you, you son of a bitch. I'm going to fucking kill you." 

 Pranav smiled down at him grimly, and turned suddenly and left the room,
shutting the door lightly behind him. 

 "God dammit, leave them alone! What the hell do you want from us?"
Simon's voice was anguished and enraged all at once. 

 "I want you to remember who's in charge here. I want you to sit at your
desk like a good captain, and tell your men to go solve other crimes. I
will leave your fair city when I have what I shall ask for, and we will
have no more dealings with each other. It's really very simple." 

 Jim had been scrambling some writing down. He finished hurriedly and
passed the paper to Simon. 

 Simon glanced at the note, then smiled grimly. "Fine. If that's what you
want, that's what you'll get. But if my officer dies, I'll-" 

 "-have to bury him, won't you?" Pranav sounded like he was smiling. 

 Simon flushed darkly, but the click came abruptly, signifying the end of
the call. He set the phone down with a shaking hand, then turned to Jim,
glancing down at the note. "Henri told you where they are?" he read off
with a dubious look. 

 Jim nodded grimly. "As soon as Pranav went in, Rafe got Henri's
attention, and reminded him what I was." 

 Simon was still busy glaring at the phone. "What are you?" 

 Fraser answered. "He said 'Sentinel.'" 

 Now Simon looked up. "Rafe did?" 

 The two Sentinels nodded. 

 Simon turned to Blair and Jim. "You never said you told Rafe and Brown." 

 They glanced at each other. "We didn't." Jim answered simply. 

 "They must have figured it out." Blair thought about it, then nodded.
"Sure, they figured it out. Working with us for so long, they must have
seen that Jim had some talents most guys don't have. Then when all the
press came out, they must have known." He grinned. "Man, I can't believe
we thought we could fool them." 

 Jim didn't echo his enthusiasm. "It's a good thing they did, it's gonna
save their lives." He stood abruptly and went out to his desk, getting on
the computer. "Henri said Westport. Davis, Davidson, something like that.
I'm checking with George Anthony's known accomplices...." He typed
quickly, studying readouts. 

 Behind him, Ray turned to Fraser and spoke quietly. "You hear everything
during that call?" 

 Fraser nodded. 

 "No zone outs or nothin? I mean, everything was workin right?" 

 Fraser turned a faint smile to him. "You had your hand on my shoulder." 

 "Whaddaya mean? What's that got to do with it?" 

 Fraser shrugged. "It made it easier. I would have to ask Blair exactly
why that is." 

 Ray blinked, then smiled slightly. "Oh. 'Kay." 

 "Bingo!" Jim sat up straighter and started printing a page out. "Harold
Davidge, cousin to one of Anthony's pals." 

 "Great, let's get over there." Blair went for his jacket. 

 "Wait a minute," Fraser replied suddenly. "I don't know if that would be
wise." 

 "Constable, I've got men bleeding to death over-" 

 "Regretfully yes, Captain, you do. But Pranav knew Jim and Ray had left
to come after him, he must have someone keeping an eye on this station. If
we all leave, he is going to get suspicious, perhaps kill the hostages." 

 Simon let out a low curse, and Blair set his jacket down with a frown.
"Well, what do we do? There's gotta be something." 

 A grim silence filled the room as each man considered. 

 After a few minutes of sinking spirits, it was Ray Kowalski that suddenly
spoke. "I've got it!" 

 They turned to him expectantly. 

 Ray felt their eyes and instantly deflated somewhat. "Uhh...no, maybe I
don't. Sorry, it's a bad idea." 

 "Ray, what is it?" Blair asked gently. 

 "Look, I dunno much about dis Sentinel thing, I dunno if it could work,
but...." 

 Fraser went to his suddenly nervous partner and rested a hand on his
shoulder. "Just tell us, Ray." 

 Ray met his eyes, then glanced down at his hand and smiled crookedly.
"Yer right, Frase. That does make it easier." 

 Fraser returned the smile reassuringly. 

 Ray turned to the others. "Alright, here's the plan." 

 Fraser and Ray left the front door of the Cascade PD five minutes later,
and turned to stroll down the street. From a distance they looked like any
two guys heading out to lunch or something, arms waving in casual
conversation. 

 "Alright, Frase. Just concentrate. Focus on Simon's voice, that's all you
gotta do. Just ignore all the sounds out here, and listen fer Simon's
voice." Ray kept his hands moving, animated, but his voice was soft and
rythmic as he spoke. Occasionally he would reach out and touch Fraser, a
pat on the shoulder or light punch to the arm, as they walked. 

 On the tenth floor, Jim sat staring out the window. Blair's voice was low
beside him, a constant murmur. "Filter out everything else, the traffic,
the sounds in the building, everything. Just listen for any new voices.
Focus on the people on the street, maybe in the windows of buildings
nearby. Listen for any new voices." 

 Jim's face was already sweating lightly with the exertion of blocking out
so much noise. His hands were grasping the windowsill tightly, his eyes
darting all over the streets. 

 Behind them, Simon stood quietly, tense. He was careful not to say
anything at all, forced to listen in silence as Jim focused. 

 Filtering every single sound one by one, the traffic, the idle
conversations, even Ray's soothing voice as it went down the street, Jim
was finally able to hear their target. 

 "-Mountie and the cop just left. They're on foot, headed down Main. I
don't know, boss, they look pretty casual." 

 Jim followed the sound of the voice to a car parked half a block down the
street. With a relieved sigh, he deflated. "Got it, Blair. The green
Taurus across from the deli. Our spy's sitting in there." 

 Blair turned to Simon and nodded. 

 Simon cleared his throat slightly. "Constable, I hope you can hear me." 

 His arm casually perched on Fraser's shoulder, Ray felt as he suddenly
tensed. Knowing Simon had to be speaking finally, Ray shut up, keeping his
arm firmly in place, keeping his other hand waving and mouth moving
soundlessly. 

 A moment later, Fraser relaxed. "He's behind us, in a green Ford. We'll
circle the block and surprise him." 

 Ray shook his head, his eyes wide, his casual appearance vanishing. "It
worked?" 

 "Apparently." 

 He beamed. "I can't believe dat actually worked. Are you okay? Didn't
strain yer synapses or anything, didya?" 

 Fraser grinned over at him. "I believe I'm just fine, Ray, thank you
kindly." 

 "Man, Frase, am I great or what? It actually worked!" Ray was practically
bouncing as they turned the corner and out of sight of the Taurus. 

 The two men, as one, sped up, jogging around the rest of the block, until
they were at the corner that led to the front of the police station. 

 "Alright, uh...you stay here, I'll go kick his head in." 

 Fraser frowned and grabbed his arm. "I stay here?" 

 "Yer dressed a little conspicuously there, Benton buddy. No chance the
guy wouldn't see ya comin. Don't worry, I'm more than capable when it
comes to breakin heads." 

 "I know that, Ray, but I would feel better if-" 

 "See, maybe you'll listen to me now when I tell ya that uniform ain't
practical." Ray flashed him a grin and turned the corner before Fraser
could grab him again. 

 A few short minutes later, they had a suspect in custody and were on
their way down to the parking garage. Simon walked alongside the two
teams. "Remember, if they see you coming, Rafe and Henri are as good as
dead. You've got to come up with some way of getting close without
arousing their suspicion." 

 "We've got it, Simon. We'll think of something." 

 Simon nodded, but his frown stayed firm. "Maybe I should come along. You
could use somebody they haven't-" 

 "Captain, if he calls again and no one answers...." 

 "I know," Simon snapped at Fraser. He regretted his tone a second later,
but made no effort to retract. "You men just be careful, alright?" He
glared at each one in turn, then wheeled and headed back to the elevator. 

 Ray looked after him. "Y'know, he kinda reminds me of Welsh." 

 "I agree," Fraser commented simply. 

 "Kinda scary, ain't it? If these guys Rafe and Brown are anything like
the Duck Boys, I'm gonna get seriously creeped out." 

 Fraser pondered as they walked towards Jim's truck. "I can say one thing.
That woman Rhonda seems nothing like Fransesca Vecchio." 

 Ray barked out a laugh. "Wuz wrong, Frase? Missin the attention?" 

 Fraser flushed. 

 "You two done?" Jim stood by the opened truck door, watching the two men.


 "Oh. Yeah. We're followin you, we've got it." Ray went past the truck to
the small rental car they had picked up at the airport. 

 Jim got in and shut the door to the truck without a word. 

 Ray turned a glance at Fraser as they climbed in to the Honda. "That guy
gets more uptight by the second." 

 Fraser looked towards the truck, watching as Jim gunned the gas and tore
out of the parking space. "What if it WAS Huey and Dewey Pranav had his
hands on?" he asked quietly. 

 Ray hesitated. "Shit." He slammed down the gas and threw the car after
the speeding truck. 

 The house was large, fairly nice by middle-class standards. The
neighborhood surrounding it was quiet, cheerful. Toys in the yards, two
car garages. 

 The second time the two-car caravan drove by, Jim was certain enough to
stop as soon as they had turned the corner. 

 Ray pulled in beside him, and the four men climbed out to conference. 

 "Fraser, did you get anything from that house?" 

 The Mountie nodded. "I detected two men down below the surface. Your
officers, I would imagine, in a basement. One's heartbeat was fluctuating
and weak, the others was racing as though in anger or excitement. There
are two people in the house above them, and two more behind, in a garage,
preparing their departure, I'd suppose." 

 Jim and Blair stared at him for a moment, before Jim had the presence of
mind to shut his gaping mouth. "That...uh, that's good for a beginner." 

 Ray smirked at their expressions. "No, that's just Frase." 

 "Okay," Blair shook his head slightly then turned to Jim. "So what's the
plan here?" 

 Jim frowned, thoughtful. "There are four of them and four of us. Normally
I'd go charging in, but I find it hard to believe that Pranav would only
have three men with him." 

 "Maybe he's that sure we won't come after him." 

 "Naw, even if he think's he's got yer boss under his thumb, the Feebs are
still out lookin for him." 

 "Feebs?" 

 "Feds. Feebees. Y'know." 

 Jim chuckled. "And I thought Blair had a strange vocabulary." 

 "Me? You should listen to Fraser's stories sometimes." Blair's tone was
admiring. 

 Fraser smiled slightly. "So where would Pranav have the rest of his men
stationed? Perhaps in another house nearby?" 

 They each glanced around the neighborhood, and Jim grimaced. "I hope not.
If he does, we're not going to have a clue where to start looking." 

 "Sure we would. You and Frase could scope out all the houses, right?" 

 Jim shook his head. "Maybe if we had all day, but we don't. Fraser and I
could both tell that Rafe's in bad shape. For his sake we've got to make a
move fast." 

 "Man, I wish there was some way we could talk to him and Brown," Blair
mused. 

 "Perhaps we could set up some kind of diversion. The most timely problem
we have now is getting your fellow oficers out of harm's way. If we could
draw Pranav and his men from the house-" 

 "Nix that, Frase. If he has got flunkies hangin around they'd be right on
top of us." 

 Fraser shrugged. "We are each police officers of a sort. It is our duty
to-" 

 "Alright, alright. I know what yer gonna say." 

 Ray and Fraser locked gazes, and the air between them spoke volumes as
the long-time partners communicated silently. 

 Finally, Ray drew in a breath, then let it out decisively. "Okay, so
we'll meet up with you two back at the station," he informed Jim and
Blair. 

 "Wait a second. What did we miss?" Blair blinked back at them. 

 "It's easy. Two of us gotta draw the fire, the other two gotta go in and
rescue those men." 

 "And, as Ray has reminded me several times since we arrived back in
America, I do have a tendency to stick out, making me the most logical
choice to capture their attention." 

 "And since we ain't about to split up again, I'm hanging by Frase. So
just give us a coupla minutes to get those clowns outta the house, then go
on in and get your pals out." Ray tossed them a crooked smile, and he and
Fraser headed back to their car, climbing in and putting the car in motion
before either of the remaining men could protest. 

 Blair blinked after them as they rolled down the block, then turned to
Jim. "Er." 

 "Yeah." 

 There was a pause. 

 Jim shrugged after a minute and turned back to face the houses. "Well,
let's get over there." 

 "Alright, Ben, how ya wanna do this?" 

 Fraser glanced at his partner. Ray had several different quirks in his
manner that allowed Fraser to clue in to how his partner was feeling. And
only when he was extremely nervous or extremely excited did he use the
name Ben. "You didn't have to come with me, you know. I would have been
quite enough to distract four men." 

 Ray snorted. "We partners?" 

 "Well....yes, of course. But-" 

 "Okay then. Answer the question." 

 Fraser smiled slightly. "I thought perhaps the front-door approach would
be best in this situation." 

 "Sounds good to me. We got two guys in the back. Why don't you go through
their front door, and I'll get the guys in the house." 

 Fraser nodded, and Ray slowed the car down in front of the Davidge house.
The two partners shared another silent look that spoke volumes only they
would understand, and Fraser climbed out of the car and headed for the
rear of the house without a word. 

 Ray watched him until he disappeared through some shrubs, then silently
counted to twenty. On cue, he heard a single sharp noise from the
direction Fraser had gone in. 

 He grinned, then turned to the house. His turn. 

 Jim and Blair crouched in the bushes, waiting, which was something Jim
didn't tend to do very well. 

 "Dammit, where are they? You don't think they forgot about the guys in
the back, do you? Damn it, they shouldn't have gone off like that." Jim
paused for all of two seconds. "That's it. I'm taking these guys. Stay
here, Chief." 

 Blair didn't respond, just reached out and grabbed Jim's arm and held him
in place. 

 "Sandburg, get-" 

 "Shhhh." Blair nodded towards the back yard in front of them. 

 Jim turned and saw a familiar red figure marching directly towards the
garage. He sat back, tense. "What the hell is he doing?" 

 Blair shook his head quietly. 

 Fraser composed himself quickly, then crouched down and entered the
half-open garage door. As he had guessed, there were only two men there,
one leaning on the hood of a black car, back to him, the other on his back
on the ground, face and torso hidden under the vehicle. 

 "What do you think?" The man under the car was griping, his voice muffled
slightly. "He doesn't seem to realize that once he's back in Canada, I
still have to live in this town. I told him not to get the cops on our
tale, now they got officers bleeding down in my basement, staining my
floors and shit. He better not wanna bury the guy in the yard, that's all
I have to say." 

 Fraser reached over and grabbed the rim of the pull-down door. With one
sharp gesture he pulled it down to the ground, a sharp metallic sound
ringing out as it hit the concrete and threw the garage into darkness. 

 "Hey, wh...OW! Shit!" The man under the car came sliding out, his hand on
the forehead he had banged against the bottom of the car. 

 The man on the hood spun and squinted. "Door must have closed." 

 "By itself? Man, I paid good money so shit like that wouldn't happen." 

 "Perhaps you would have been better served had you spent it on something
more useful, such as a light source." 

 "Who the hell is that?" the man still sitting on the ground barked out,
his voice rising an octave. 

 Fraser hesitated, trying to remember what Blair had told him. He shut his
eyes briefly, picturing a numbered dial. He mentally tagged the word Sight
on it, then increased the level. 

 When he opened his eyes, the darkness was suddenly almost bright as
daylight. He could plainly see the one man standing up and haltingly
moving towards the door to reopen it. 

 Fraser quickly intercepted the stumbling man. "Excuse me, I'll have to
ask you to join your friend on the ground." 

 The man jumped at the near voice, and swung towards Fraser. "Who are you?
Is this some kind of joke?" 

 "Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police." 

 "Ohhhhh, shit!" 

 Frase smiled slightly. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Now please, allow me to help
you to the ground." He reached out politely and steered the man back
towards his friend, who had flopped over onto his back, one hand hidden
under the car. "Sir, if you wouldn't mind showing me both your hands, we
can expedite this-" 

 The man's hand came out, and Fraser barely saw the red plastic he held in
his hand, before a sudden, blinding light pounded into his skull. He cried
out, clenching his eyes shut too late, his hands going up to his face. 

 The two men watched him in surprise, and the first swung the flashlight
around, trying to see what was going on. 

 The second man didn't waste a second, lunging over and tackling the
blinded Mountie, knocking them both to the ground bare inches away from
the side of the car. 

 Fraser's head hit the cement with a thump, and suddenly the blinding
light in his eyes zapped out, leaving him in darkness. 

 The minute the garage door was closed, Jim and Blair left the cover of
the bushes and went quickly towards the house. Jim turned his hearing
towards the garage long enough to make sure Fraser had everything under
control, then he redirected it towards the front door. 

 "Any sign of Ray?" Blair asked in a whisper. 

 Jim hesitated. "I can hear his car. Coming closer....oh, shit!" He
grabbed Blair and pushed him to the ground just as a sudden crash filled
the air, followed by sudden shouts and curses. 

 They jumped to their feet and Jim went through the back door in a charge.
As he had expected, though, the men in the house must now be in the front,
where a rental car now sat half buried in their front walls. 

 Blair couldn't help a laugh. "Man, that guy is crazy! Should we go help?"


 Jim shook his head and scouted around for a door that might lead
downstairs. "We've got a job to do here, Chief. Let them take care of it."
He moved out past the back hall and into a kitchen. "Bingo." He opened the
simple door and headed down the dim flight of stairs in a rush. 

 From where he was struggling with his ropes in the middle of the room,
Henri Brown looked up with a dark rage that dissolved quickly into relief.
"Jim! It's about damned time you got here!" 

 "Good to see you too, H." Jim grinned and approached. His smile faltered
at Rafe's limp form and lack of response, tied back-to-back with Brown.
"Let's get you guys out of here." 

 "Fine by me. What's going on up there, anyway?" 

 Jim tackled the ropes for only a second before he realized he'd have no
luck untying. "Chief, get over here. Give me your knife." 

 Blair started over, digging his ever-present Swiss Army Knife out of his
pocket, when he suddenly froze. 

 "Chief, we haven't got all day!" 

 "Uh, Jim..." Blair blinked over at his partner. 

 Henri suddenly drew in a breath. "Damn, I almost forgot about that." 

 "What?" Jim barked out impatiently. 

 "I think he means this large bomb strapped on his other side," Blair
answered, approaching carefully. 

 Jim jumped up and moved around until he could see the device. "Oh, holy
shit," he groaned out. 

 "Yeah." Brown nodded his agreement. 

 "Okay. No problem." Jim glanced around, as though the surrounding room
would give him some clue what to do. "Uh. Is this thing wired to blow if
we take it off?" 

 "How the hell should I know?" Henri retorted. 

 "Okay. Chief, why don't you get Joel on the line." Jim handed his cell
phone to his partner as he crouched down by the display. "Well, you've
still got almost an hour before it blows. That's good." 

 "Yeah, fantastic. That psycho Pranav is supposed to come down and reset
it for another day, provided none of our cop buddies show their faces
around here." Henri almost laughed. 

 "An hour's plenty of time. We'll just get Joel over here, let him-" 

 "Jim?" Blair glanced over, holding the phone by his shoulder. "We're
supposed to be in and out, remember?" 

 Jim cursed lightly. 

 "Why? What's wrong? Sounded like you boys had everything under control." 

 Jim hesitated, but quickly decided to be honest. "We've only got two
other guys with us and we've got no idea how many Pranav might have
stashed around here." 

 "Well....damn, Jim." Henri laughed slightly, almost a giggle. "You always
plan things out this well?" 

 Jim frowned at his friend. "Don't get hysterical on me, Brown. We're
gonna have to get you two out of here. Looks like your friend Dr. Device
here is just gonna have to come along." 

 Brown jerked over to look at him. "You serious?" 

 "Jim, Joel's off." 

 "What?!?" 

 Blair almost laughed his frustration. "It's his off day, man. Simon's
alone." 

 "Ask him where Joel is." Jim turned back and concentrated on getting the
ropes holding Brown and Rafe to the chairs untied. 

 "Uhh...Simon's calling him now, hang on." 

 Jim muffled a curse, almost sardonically. This day just kept on going
uphill. 

 "Would ya believe I thought this was a, uh, shortcut to the mall?" Ray
grinned at the man approaching him. He shut the door of the car he'd
slammed into their front wall and faced him, his grin belied by the
tension in his body. 

 A voice rang out from his right before either man could spring. "Ahhh, if
it isn't the officer who would be Mountie." 

 Ray turned and saw a grinning, dark-skinned face he'd only seen before in
pictures. "Pranav," he gritted out, smile vanishing. 

 The Indian bowed his head slightly. "I see you managed to fool yet
another of my men." 

 "Oh, you mean the guy in the car you had spyin on us? Yeah, real
difficult, dat guy was." Ray's grin returned. "He's prob'ly in a cell
right now singin his guts out about ya." 

 Pranav's cheek twitched slightly. "Perhaps so. I'll simply have to
content myself with the knowledge that if he has betrayed me, at least you
won't be alive to know about it." He raised a hand, aiming a small
revolver casually. 

 Ray's grin didn't falter. "You musta been born in Canada." 

 Pranav's brow furrowed. "Why, yes. I was." 

 "I figured. 'I'll simply have to content myself...'" He shook his head.
"Why can't yer Canadian mommas ever teach you guys to just talk normal?" 

 "I suppose 'normal' in this case refers to your own brand of speech,"
Pranav responded dryly. 

 "Well, yeah. People got no problem wit de way I talk. You guys sound like
Webster rammed a copy of his dictionary up yer ass." 

 "How vividly put." Pranav actually smiled somewhat. "And though I do
recognize this brand of conversation as a stalling tactic to keep you
alive, I must admit there is something to your argument. I don't know
where your partner Mr. Fraser was born, but where I come from, we take a
certain pride in knowing which words to say to express our feelings. We
have no need to use banalities or cliches, or profanity, as Americans
often times must." 

 Ray shrugged. "Hey, Americans gotta express our feelings too. We just
feel profane a lot more than you guys." He leaned against the car,
crossing his arms casually. "See, it's all a matter of character. You guys
north of the border, you got no character, so you gotta use words. Us
Americans got character drippin out of our ears, so we don't gotta be as
literal to express ourselves." 

 Pranav's brows shot up. "I do believe their is a certain faulty logic in
your argument." 

 "See? Perfect example. An American woulda just said 'yer full of it'.
Same meaning, less words, more character." He grinned. "Another example.
If I was Canadian-" 

 "A frightening thought, but proceed." 

 Ray chuckled. "I agree with ya there. Okay, if I was Canadian, and I
wanted to say what I want to say right now, I'd havta get real profound
and intellectual and say somethin like, 'when you spoke of my conversation
being simply a stalling tactic to keep myself alive, you failed to take
into account that there are elements to my rather abrupt invasion of your
house that are beyond your control, and one of them happens to be behind
you right now.' But I'm American, see, so all I gotta say is, 'hey Frase,
bout time you got here.'" Ray's grin went over Pranav's shoulder. 

 Pranav's grin faded, and he swung around, his gun ready. A second after
looking at the empty room beyond him, he started to turn back, but felt a
sudden cool metal behind his neck. 

 "Quiz time," Ray's voice sounded quietly. "How d'ya say 'ya fell for the
oldest trick in de book' in Canadian?" 

 "Got it. Can you stand up, H? You're free of the chair." 

 Henri started to rise, but fell back after a second, wincing. "Shit, my
legs are totally numb. Sorry, Jim, we've been strapped here all day." 

 Jim cursed lightly. 

 "Hey, Simon just talked to Joel. He's with his wife over at her mom's." 

 "Where the hell is that?" 

 Blair blinked before responding. "Uh, on the west side, near Brookwood." 

 Jim let out a breath. "Good. One damned thing going right. That's closer
to us than the station is. Get the number from Simon and call him. No,
hang on. You can do that in the truck. We've got to get these guys out of
this house." 

 "How do you expect to do that, Jim?" Brown spoke through gritted teeth as
a billion pins drove themselves into his numbed legs. 

 "Blair, get over there by Rafe. On the count of three we've gotta lift
them and get them up the stairs." 

 "We have to carry both of them?" Blair repeated, his eyes huge. 

 "Just do it!" Jim crouched down, his arms wrapping around Brown's
shoulders awkwardly. He grinned at the face that was now three inches from
his own. "Do me a favor and leave this part out of your report." 

 "No problem," Brown replied. 

 Blair crouched down beside Rafe, and caught sight of his wound as the
unconscious detective's head flopped back. "Oh, man," he breathed faintly.
"Jim, let's do this now!" 

 "One. Two." 

 "Three," the said together, straining to lift Rafe and Brown clear of the
chairs. Blair kicked out with his foot and knocked the two wooden seats on
their side and out of the way, and he and Jim stumbled forward with
difficulty. 

 Brown's eyes were shut as he tried to help them, putting as much weight
on his feet as he could. 

 "Hang on." Blair waited for Jim to stop before shifting his hold on
Rafe's slimmer shoulders. 

 "Blair!" 

 Blair's hand froze, an inch away from the assortment of wires and buttons
on the display of the bomb. He paled and moved his hand back to the more
uncomfortable position. "This sucks," he hissed as they started moving
again. 

 Ray was grinning like an idiot as Pranav slowly turned, his hands raised.
"Y'know, any American in yer place would say 'oh shit' er somethin profane
like that. How bout a Canuck?" 

 "You may have the upper hand at the moment," Pranav retorted, his smile
long gone. "But it's only a matter of time before-" 

 "Oh, typical bad guy talk." Ray shook his head slightly. "I'm
disappointed." 

 There was a sudden burst of movement behind him, but Ray didn't move, gun
still close in on Pranav's chest. He remembered the other man with a
silent curse, but knew if he let himself get distracted, Pranav would get
that upper hand back. 

 Pranav wasn't so unlucky, though, and he could easily see what was
happening behind him. And just like that, his smile returned full force.
"It looks like your friend has decided to put in an appearance after all."


 "Frase?" Ray's eyes grew, but his gaze stayed locked on Pranav. He
wouldn't fall for the same stupid- 

 "What happened to him?" Pranav asked his men, his voice casual. As if he
didn't have a gun three inches away from him. 

 "I don't know, boss. I pointed a flashlight at him, he just went nuts,
acting like he was blind." 

 Oh, shit. Fraser was really there. They wouldn't have known enough about
the Sentinel thing to make that up. 

 Pranav saw the sudden panic in his eyes. "Now then, I think you should
hand me your gun, and we can continue our discourse about language habits
in a more civilized manner." 

 Ray tensed, indecisive. 

 "Why don't you bring the constable around so his friend can see him?"
Pranav suggested to his men. 

 There were shuffling sounds behind him, and two men came into view,
dragging Fraser's limp form between them. They dropped him to the ground
once he was in Ray's sight, and they each held their own weapons loosely,
pointed down at him. 

 Pranav grinned and held out his hand expectantly. "I believe your line
is, 'oh shit'." 

 Ray gritted his teeth and dropped the revolver into his hand. 

 "Go join your friend over there, please, and we'll see make sure our
friends downstairs are still secure." 

 Ray went to Fraser's side, crouching down more out of concern than as
obedience. He watched Pranav as he gestured for his men to gather around,
and two of them broke off and headed for the basement. 

 Ray watched helplessly as they left his sight, just hoping Blair and Jim
had had enough time to get their friends out of the house. 

 Jim tripped on a rock in the yard and fell to his knees, bringing all
four men down in a painful pile. 

 "Shit!" Blair felt his weight pressing on Rafe and jerked to his feet. He
grabbed Jim's arm and unearthed him from the pile, glancing at the house
as if sure they'd be discovered any second. 

 "Grab the ropes," Jim ordered, leaning down and following his own
instructions. "Sorry, Henri, this isn't gonna be fun." 

 "Just get us out of here," Henri retorted. 

 Jim and Blair grabbed the ropes and pulled, dragging Rafe and Brown
through the yard and to the bushes, finally out of sight of the house. 

 Just as the back door opened and two men came out, peering around. There
was quiet conversation, and a muffled curse, and they went back in
quickly. 

 "Uh oh." Blair watched them go, glancing at Jim. "Where are Ray and
Fraser?" 

 Jim grimaced. "I hate to say it, Chief, but we really can't worry about
them right now." 

 "Well, we can't leave them in there," Blair replied, surprised. 

 Jim frowned back at him. "Look at your shirt." 

 Confused, Blair glanced down at himself, and drew in a sharp breath. His
entire front was stained dark red. Was he bleeding? No, Rafe. He'd been
holding Rafe... "Oh, man." 

 "Let's get out of here. Fraser and Ray can take care of themselves." 

 Trading equal frowns, Jim and Blair went to work, pulling their friends
back up and staggering towards the street where Jim's truck was waiting. 

 "Frase, buddy, you gotta come back now. I need ya in this dimension,
pal." Ray spoke quietly, his eyes glued to Pranav and his men, his hand
firmly grasping Fraser's arm. "You remember what Blair told ya, right?
Just concentrate, filter out, turn the dials, do whatever you gotta-" 

 "Be quiet!" It wasn't the first time Pranav had ordered that. The Indian
glared over at the two of them, angered by their loss of the hostages and
the bomb that had been attached to them. 

 Ray shut his mouth with a glare, waiting until Pranav turned and was back
in conversation with his flunkie. "We haven't got a lot of time here,
Frase, buddy. C'mon, I'm s'posed to be yer Guide, ya gotta follow my
voice." 

 Pranav wheeled and stalked towards him. "However limited the vocabulary
of most Americans, I refuse to believe that the words 'be quiet' are not
in yours." 

 Ray faced him defiantly. "Turn down the dials," he said to Pranav loudly.
"Picture the dial for sight, and turn it back down. You know how to do
this." 

 Pranav's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" 

 Under his hand, Ray felt Fraser's arm tense up, and he breathed a sigh of
relief. It was starting to work. "I said, turn down the dial. Concentrate,
listen to my voice." 

 Pranav lashed out suddenly and kicked his seated prisoner in the stomach.


 Ray's voice cut off with an oomph, and his hand went around his
midsection. His eyes continued to glare, though, and his other arm
remained firmly on his partner. 

 The dark-skinned man nodded his satisfaction that Ray was now quiet, and
turned. 

 "Focus, Frase," he hissed softly. "Anytime now would be good." 

 Fraser stirred abruptly under his arm. "Thank you kindly, Ray," his quiet
voice said finally. 

 Ray let out a breath that was both pained and relieved. "My pleasure," he
gritted out. 

 Fraser, blinking around as though waking from a dream, turned towards
him, surprised. "Did that man hurt you?" 

 Ray let out a faint laugh. "No more than they usually do, Benton buddy." 

 Fraser's eyes snapped towards Pranav, and he couldn't quite hide the
glare. "That son of...his parents." 

 "Did you almost just swear?" Ray asked after another minute. 

 "I did come alarmingly close, Ray," Fraser admitted. "I can't believe he
hurt you." 

 Ray turned a sidewards glance to him. "Frase, I get hurt all the time." 

 "That was...I mean, you weren't my...my Guide then." 

 "Huh." Ray laughed again. "I wonder if that's what Blair meant by Blessed
Protecter Syndrome." 

 "I'm afraid I allowed myself to be captured, Ray." 

 "I saw that. Don't worry, it happens to the best of us." 

 "Did Jim and Blair successfully rescue their friends?" 

 "Looks that way. Pranav's sure got his pants in a twist over somethin." 

 Fraser glared at the man. "Good." 

 Ray's eyebrows flew up, but he chose not to comment. "So what's the plan,
here, buddy?" 

 "The plan? Well, we've successfully diverted attention. So now we meet
Jim and Blair back at the police station, isn't that right?" 

 "Of course, how stupid of me." 

 Fraser glanced over at him, then got to his feet in one swift, sudden
move. 

 Pranav and the man he was speaking to spun around, and Fraser found
himself at the receiving end of two gun barrels. "What the hell do you
think you're doing, Mountie?" 

 Ray got over his own surprise quickly. Working with Fraser as long as he
had had taught him to expect the unexpected, so a second later he was
standing too. "I think you've spent too much time in America, Pranav. You
just got profane." 

 "Don't worry, my friend, I plan to return to my country soon enough. Now
both of you take your seats." 

 "I'm afraid that's impossible," Fraser replied blandly. 

 "Are you sure about that?" Pranav asked through gritted teeth. 

 "Quite sure. We were not actually sitting on 'seats' in the common usage
of the term, ie, chairs or stools, et cetera. And it would be quiet
difficult for us to 'take', as you say, the floor, unless, of course, you
were using the other meaning of the phrase 'take the floor' in which case
I'd question whether or not you wanted us to indeed-" 

 "Are you insane?" Pranav asked curiously. 

 "Naw. He's Canadian. Come on, we've been through this." Ray smiled
innocently. 

 Pranav studied them for a moment, as if seriously contemplating their
sanity. "Perhaps if I got rid of one of you, the other would be less ready
to disobey me." 

 Ray shrugged. "Perhaps if you-" 

 Pranav fired. 

 Ray staggered back a step, a patch of red blooming and growing just below
his right shoulder, before he lost his balance and collapsed in an
ungraceful heap. 

 Fraser glanced over long enough to see what had happened, then turned
back to Pranav, his entire world growing red. That man just shot Ray. That
man just shot his Guide. 

 Pranav turned the gun and a self-satisfied smirk his way. "Now,
Constable, as I was saying-" 

 A dark anger that seemed to come from the deepest, most primitive levels
of his mind took the Mountie over, and without another word, Fraser
pounced. 

 After taking a moment to realize that the way they were tied, Henri and
Rafe were never going to fit into the front seat, Blair and Jim rather
unceremoniously hauled them up into the back of the truck, where they left
them laying on their sides, Henri spitting out his frustration with the
world at large, Rafe still deathly silent. 

 Jim jumped into the driver's seat without a pause, and started the
engine. 

 Blair opened his door, but his eyes went back behind them, to the house
and two friends they had left behind. 

 "Chief, get in the truck!" 

 Blair turned back to him, reluctant but decisive. "Sorry, Jim. We can't
just leave them behind." 

 "BLAIR!" Jim bit his anger down hurriedly. "Have you forgotten what-" 

 "No, I haven't. You go on, get H and Rafe some help. I'm going back." 

 "Are you out of your-" 

 "Jim," Blair spoke quietly, almost solemnly, but somehow managed to cut
off his partner's voice. "You saw those men. That means Ray and Fraser are
in trouble. You don't need my help to get to Joel. I'm going back." He
shut the door, met Jim's eyes for a moment through the window, then turned
and started back towards the row of houses. 

 Jim seethed for a split second, his ears following his Guide's determined
steps, before he also caught the sound of Rafe's breathing, growing
shallower by the second, and Henri's low voice, which had gone from anger
to a quiet, almost desperate comforting, even though his partner probably
couldn't hear it. 

 Jim faught every urge inside of him, knowing in his mind that Blair
wasn't alone -- that there was another Sentinel and Guide, another two
officers. He fought the primitive instinct that told him to go be with his
Guide no matter what the cost. 

 And finally, he stepped on the gas, taking the truck and it's three
passengers away from the scene. 

 To say that Pranav was surprised by Fraser's sudden lunge would be an
understatement. Fraser would recall sometime later the look of sheer
surprise on the man's otherwise smug face with some degree of humor. 

 Right now, though, all he felt was the rather uncharacteristic urge to
wipe that face off the planet. 

 Pranav was too stunned to even remember the gun in his hand, and Fraser
got to him easily, his larger frame knocking the slender Indian down
easily. He forgot about the other men in the room, forgot about
everything, knowing only that this man hurt his Guide. The dark anger in
him fought a small war with his nature, which told him that every conflict
could be resolved without violence, that now that Pranav was down, Fraser
could simply take his gun away and once again have the upper hand. 

 Prananv wasn't surprised for long, though, and he took advantage of
Fraser's hesitation to drive his leg upwards, catching the Mountie in a
rather sensitive area, and shoving him off of him. 

 Fraser rolled. The dark, sharp pain that now pulsed through him did
nothing but fuel the fire of his anger, and he wasted no time, as Pranav
struggled to his feet, to attack again. And the two men were suddenly
locked in combat, wrestling not for the gun, which had long since been
forgotten, but for the first opening to smash their opponent's face in. 

 Ray struggled to his knees, and only a sudden noise behind him drew his
startled eyes from the scene. 

 Blair Sandburg came in through the back door, taking a quick look around
to assess the situation. Fraser and Pranav were fighting, and the three
men who stood around seemed to be hypnotised by the sight. Ray was swaying
on his knees, obviously wounded, so that's where Blair headed first. 

 "Hey, man, are you okay?" he said quietly, crouching beside the blonde
officer. 

 Ray nodded with a grimace. "I'm good. You get your friends out?" 

 "They're on their way to get some help," Blair acknowledged. 

 "And Jim let you come back here?" 

 Blair actually smiled somewhat. "Not in a million years. I sort of ran
away." 

 "Yer Blessed Protector is gonna kill you." 

 "I know. I never got to warn you about how overprotective Sentinels can
be towards their Guides." 

 Simultaneously, both pairs of eyes went to the fight still raging in
front of them. Neither man showed sign of having an advantage -- despite
Fraser's larger frame and RCMP training, his usual nonviolent tactics had
made him fairly rusty at hand-to-hand combat. Still, the anger that showed
on his face and the determination in his moves made it impossible for
Pranav to get a lead over him. 

 Ray found himself staring at his partner. Never, not once in the entire
time they'd been working together, had he seen Fraser lose control. Now
the Mountie looked like he'd want nothing better than to snap Pranav's
neck. It was almost gratifying, knowing that Fraser was capable of going
nuts like that. 

 Then suddenly, the knowledge appeared and grew in him -- Fraser was going
to kill that man. For some reason, Ray's being shot had struck something
in him. 

 "This sucks," he and Blair said together suddenly. They exchanged looks
free of humor, and Blair helped Ray get to his feet. 

 Ray ignored the slightly sick feeling that left him swaying as he stood,
and he turned to Pranav's men, all still glued to the fight, making no
move to help their boss. He and Blair exchanged another grim look, and
both started forward at the same time. 

 He shot Ray. He shot Ray. He shot Ray. 

 Fraser couldn't stop the mantra from repeating itself in his head, just
as he couldn't turn down the red rage that had swept over him enough to
control his own actions. 

 Pranav no longer looked smug, he saw with grim satisfaction. He looked
like he was tiring. 

 A sudden fist in his stomach doubled Fraser over, wiping away that train
of thought. Leaving only He shot Ray. He shot Ray. 

 Fraser straightened too fast, but ignored the cry of protest from his
sore muscles and grabbed Pranav by the throat before the man realized he
had recovered. 

 Pranav's face immediately flushed red as Fraser's large hand cut off his
air. 

 And Fraser could feel himself smiling at the bug-eyed look of the face
before him. 

 Until, a moment later, a cool spot appeared on his arm, and the red haze
was suddenly invaded by a voice. 

 "Fraser, let him go. Ya don't want to kill him, trust me. Ya gotta calm
down and let him go before he suffocates." 

 Ray? Fraser blinked, but didn't release his victim. 

 Another cool spot appeared below the first, and the haze was suddenly
less of a blnding red. 

 "Look at him, Frase. Yer killing him, and I can't let you do that. Just
let him go. Yer never gonna forgive yerself if ya don't." Ray's voice grew
pleading. "C'mon, Ben. You kill him, yer gonna feel all weird, yer never
gonna wanna see me again. Don't ignore me, here. That's not buddies." 

 Fraser blinked again, shook his head slightly to clear it. And when his
gaze returned to Pranav's almost purple face, a look of horror came over
him, and he instantly released him. 

 Pranav dropped to the floor, gasping in air noisily. 

 Fraser turned towards the cool voice that had invaded his anger. "Ray?" 

 Ray saw the stunned, almost scared look in his partner's eyes, but hid a
frown. "Hey, Frase. Good to have ya back." 

 "Ray?" Fraser swayed slightly under his hands. 

 "Uhh...maybe we should go sit down fer a sec, huh?" Ray steered his
shocked partner over to a huge overstuffed sofa and sat him down gently.
"You just hang tight here fer a sec. I haveta go have a word with
someone." 

 Fraser blinked at him, not seeming to acknowledge his words. 

 Ray grinned crookedly, but it vanished the second he turned out of
Fraser's sight. He made a beeline for Blair, who stood holding Ray's gun
silently on the three men now disarmed and seated on the floor. Without a
pause Ray snatched his gun out of the Observer's hand. "What the hell was
that?" He had to stop his voice from rising to a shout. 

 Blair shook his head, his own surprise clearly evident. "I don't know.
Jim's never snapped like that before." 

 Ray opened his mouth to retort, but his own weakness suddenly caught up
to him, and he had to suck in a harsh breath to stop himself from passing
out. Finally, he spoke again, softer. "Let's just get this SOB into a cell
where he belongs. But ya can bet yer ass we're gonna talk about this
later." 

 The waiting room of the hospital was crowded, but Major Crimes had
quickly found themselves a corner and taken it over, waiting for news
about their two recovered men. 

 Joel Taggart stood close to the payphone he was talking in to, trying to
calm his mother-in-law's anger. While he couldn't exactly argue that it
wasn't pleasant to have a meal interrupted by one angry detective, two
injured men and a large, ticking bomb, he wasn't about to argue with Jim's
moves. 

 Luckily the device itself had been somewhat simple to disarm, and for
once he had managed to stop the timer with over ten minutes left on it. 

 Only a call from Blair had kept Jim from simply dumping Henri and Rafe
into Joel's house and hauling off back to that house. Blair simply said
that he was fine but Ray had been shot, and they would meet him at the
hospital. That had been all it took for Jim to relax enough to help Joel. 

 Now, almost two hours later, Jim and Blair sat together, Simon on Jim's
other side, listening with some hint of amusement to the phone call beside
them. They could hear the shrill voice from the phone more clearly than
they could hear Joel's almost whispered replies. 

 Fraser appeared from down the hall, demolishing the light tone of the
group with the serious look on his face. He approached them slowly.
"Blair, Jim?" 

 Blair stood up instantly, worried. "Yeah?" 

 "Ray...." His eyes, moved away from theirs. 

 "Oh, no." Blair glanced at Jim, who stood up beside him. 

 "He wants to talk." 

 Jim blinked. "What?" 

 "I'm afraid he's rather insistent." 

 Blair almost laughed, but saw the strain and remaining fear in Fraser's
eyes, and knew what their injured frien wanted to talk about. He nodded.
"We should talk. Let's get in there." 

 Fraser trailed after the two men, keeping his face studiously blank to
hide the tumultuous rush of emotions churning inside of him. 

 Ray Kowalski was seated in his bed, a large bandage wrapped around his
shoulder and arm, but otherwise looking perfectly healthy. And mad as
hell. "Get in here, Blair. We gotta figure some things out." 

 Blair came in and sat without a word. Jim, confused, followed, and Fraser
pulled the door shut behind them. 

 "Alright. I wanna know why Frase snapped like that, and he wants to know
too, he's just too freaked out ta ask." 

 Blair glanced at the Mountie, but Fraser made no move to argue. He
sighed. "I told you before, I'm really not sure what happened. Jim has
never reacted that way to me being hurt. Well, he has, but not that badly.
Well, okay, maybe that badly, but...." 

 "But Frase isn't Jim. No offense, Ellison, but yer a cop, you were
Special Forces. Yer used to hurtin people. This is Fraser we're talkin
about, fer Christ's sake. I've never known him ta hurt a guy unless he had
to, and sometimes he wouldn't even do it then. We're both a little freaked
out by this, so tell us what's goin on." 

 Blair thought about it for a long moment. "The best I can figure
it....well, when Jim and I started working together, it was kind of
awkward. He had just discovered his Sentinel abilities and thought he was
going crazy, and I show up with this rap about primitive men. We had to
learn everything step by step, and we became friends that way -- step by
step. By the time we were close enough for Jim to get that angry about me
being hurt, he already had a good amount of control over himself." He
glanced at Jim, to make sure the odler man agreed with what he was saying,
then turned back to Ray and Fraser, who now sat perched by his partner's
side. 

 "You, on the other hand. Well, you've been partners for a while. You're
best friends, you've been working alone together for the better part of
three years now, right? So you're already close. Fraser is going through a
lot right now, Ray. Being a Sentinel isn't just about having heightened
senses. It's about primitive instincts, it's about discovering this part
of yourself that has been dormant all these years. You always felt
something, Fraser, always felt the need to protect weaker people, to
defend your tribe, whoever that might be for you. But now that your senses
are coming online at such an increased rate, so are those instincts."
Blair paused. 

 Jim actually took up the slack. "And I can tell you right now, one of the
biggest instincts you're going to have is the need to protect your Guide.
No matter what." 

 "Right." The two men exchanged a warm look, but Blair went on hurriedly.
"So when Ray got hurt, your instincts kicked in. It's as simple as that." 

 Fraser swallowed. "Does this mean that every time my partner gets injured
I'm going to....do that...again?" 

 "No, no. Not at all. All you have to do is learn to control it, just like
everything else." 

 "You're going to want to," Jim revised. "The urge will always be there.
But you can stop yourself." 

 Ray looked over at Fraser. He was stiff, still apprehensive about what
had happened, but he was nodding thoughtfully. Ray could practically see
the Fraser brain wheels turning, and that had to be a good sign. "So as
long as I don't get hurt fer a while, til Frase gets control over himself,
we'll be fine." 

 Blair shrugged. "That about sums it up." 

 "Uhhh...." Ray met Fraser's eyes. 

 "Perhaps if we locked you in a small room by yourself for a few months?"
Fraser suggested. 

 Ray saw that familiar, blank look that meant Fraser was making fun of
him, and he felt a surge of relief. Maybe the Mountie would be okay after
all. "Yer a funny guy." 

 "Maybe if we could somehow force you into a coma for the time
required...." 

 "Look who's talkin, pal. Who's the guy that gets me into all those weird
situations, anyway? Maybe it's you we should lock up." 

 "Now, Ray, don't be silly. I never get you into any situations that you-"


 "Don't try ta deny it, Frase. I never done a crazy thing until I met you.
Suddenly I'm driving burning cars into lakes, and jumping through
skylights and drowning on Pirate ships. Sledding around the damn Artic." 

 "That's not fair, Ray. Sledding around the Arctic was your idea." 

 "I only suggested it 'cause I knew you would eventually. I figured if I
was gonna get roped into somethin, at least it could be my idea fer once."


 "You were so sure I would ask?" Fraser replied, eyebrows raised. "It
didn't occur to you that perhaps I might want to sled around the Arctic
alone?" 

 "Are you kiddin? We've got ancient, primitive urges keepin us together.
You couldn'ta fought that." 

 "Ah, but you were hardly aware of that back when you-" 

 "Um...guys?" 

 Fraser and Ray turned to the two men they'd forgotten were in the room.
"Oh. Uh, yeah?" 

 "Are we done? We'd like to go check on our friends, if you don't mind." 

 "Oh! Sure, yeah, don't let us stop ya. Come and let us know when ya
hear." Ray shot them his familiar crooked grin, then turned back to his
partner. "Look, Frase, it don't matter if I knew it or not, in my head, ya
know? I knew it on a deeper level." 

 Fraser gave him his best blank Mountie look. "Pardon me, Ray. I wasn't
aware that you had any deeper levels." 

 "Ouch. That hurt, Frase. That actually hurt me." 

 "No, Ray. It was the bullet that hurt you. My words simply force you to
accept a truth about yourself you've tried to deny." 

 "Oh, yeah? Well, how come you wanted me to stick by ya all this time if I
didn't have no deeper levels?" 

 Fraser sighed fatalistically. "Alas, it was not my choice. You see, Ray,
we have these ancient, I suppose you could call them primitive, urges
keeping us together." 

 "Bite me, Frase." 

 When Jim and Blair finally tore themselves away from the bantaring
partners, Blair had to grin. "Are we usually like that?" 

 "Who, us? Sandburg, I think we're amazingly calm and rational compared to
those two." 

 "Yeah, you go on thinking that." Blair nodded his head down the hall.
"Just don't tell Simon you think so. We'd have to listen to him bitch for
days." 

 Simon Banks approached them, the smile on his face immediately making the
pair relax. "Good news, guys. Rafe's gonna be okay. Doc says he's lost a
lot of blood, he'll have to stay here for a while. Both of them are
bruised and sore, and a little dehydrated, so Henri's staying overnight
too." 

 Blair beamed over at Jim. "Can we see them?" 

 Simon shook his head with a grin. "Doc says no. He's worried about
Henri's mental well-being, it seems. Brown refuses to leave Rafe's side
for a minute, and apparently he just sits there singing Sesame Street
songs." 

 "What?" Jim and Blair exchanged baffled stares. 

 Simon shrugged. "You got me. I'm just glad they're okay." 

 "You and me both," Jim agreed readily. 

 "Yeah, but....H is singing Muppet songs and they won't let us in to hear
him?" Blair's voice echoed his disappointment. 

 Jim rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Chief, you can find blackmail material
some other day." 

 "Blackmail? Who said anything about blackmail? You ever heard Henri sing?
And, man, the Rainbow Connection is like one of my favorite songs from
when I was a kid." 

 "Why am I not surprised?" 

 "Oh, come on, Jim. I'm sure even a tough guy like you watched the Muppets
sometimes." 

 "Think again, Chief." 

 "You're lying to me! You're lying to my face. C'mon, sing with me." 

 "You're out of your mind, Sandburg. I'm not saying you had far to go, but
you're gone now." 

 "Whatever, man. But someday you'll find it." 

 Jim took the bait with a confused frown. "Someday I'll find what?" 

 "The rainbow connection." Grinning, Blair cleared his throat and
proceeded to warble. "The loverrrs, the dreeeeamers, and yooouuuuuuuuu." 

 Jim and Simon exchanged a look, and both men cleanly broke off and headed
down a passing corridor. 

 "So does this mean H is coming back to work tomorrow?" 

 "Day after. If I can get him out of Rafe's room, that is." 

 "Hit him kind of hard, huh?" 

 Simon raised his eyebrows. "Jim, he was tied to the body of his dying
partner for almost a full day. What do you think?" 

 Jim didn't need to think about it. He shuddered, his eyes going dark. 

 "Oh, real nice, guys." Blair, finally noticing their absence, ran up to
join them, glaring. "I'm trying to pour my heart out, you leave me walking
by myself." 

 Jim's mind still on the horrors Henri had gone through, he reached out
suddenly and grabbed Blair in an affectionate, one-armed hug. "Sorry,
Blair. You sing whatever you want to. I won't walk away again" 

 Surprised, Blair grinned. "That a promise?" 

 Jim, caught in between keeping his Guide close and protecting his ears
and his sanity, looked to Simon for help. 

 The captain grinned innocently. "I'm going to check on...er, Joel." He
walked off, whistling a Muppet tune merrily to himself. 

 "I don't see why we can't just drive up dere." 

 "Ray, I've told you before. Even if there was a chance that at this time
of year the roads all the way to Yellow Knife would be clear, it would
simply be a waste of time." 

 "Who cares? We could use the break." 

 Fraser shook his head disapprovingly. "We have had a week in Cascade with
nothing to do at all. That is enough of a break." 

 "Nothing to do? I was shot, Frase! I had to recover. That ain't a
vacation." 

 "You were hardly bed-ridden." 

 "I woulda been if I'd listened to you." 

 "And I once again would like to insert my protest over your activities.
You should have been resting, Ray, not going out all night with Jim and
Blair." 

 Ray grinned suddenly. "I couldn't help myself, Frase. You were going, and
there was this deep, primitive urge tellin me I couldn't let ya go alone."


 Fraser rolled his eyes ever-so-slightly. "Why do I get the feeling that
you will only use our roles as Sentinel and Guide to further your own
interests?" 

 "Oh, don't sulk, Frase. It ain't right comin from you." 

 "I do not sulk, Ray." 

 "Yer sulking right now." 

 "I'm merely disappointed." 

 "Sulking." 

 "Concerned." 

 "Sulking." 

 "Apprehensive?" 

 "Sulking." 

 "Ray, I am simply trying to express to you-" 

 "Sulking." 

 "Alright! Perhaps I, a little, in my own way, am sulking." 

 "Thank you." 

 Fraser couldn't hold back a smile as he shook his head at his partner.
"You would benefit from listening to me, whether I'm-" 

 "Hey! Guys! You came to see us off?" 

 Fraser followed Ray's sudden gaze, and smiled at Jim and Blair's
approaching forms. 

 "Of course. We couldn't leave you without a goodbye." Blair was in a good
mood, bouncing cheerfully by Jim's side. "You think you'll come back?" 

 "I'm afraid our schedules are formed on a more day-to-day basis than
would be useful in planning a distant-" 

 "Sure, we can come back, if ya want. Frase and me's got some off time
comin around June." 

 "Great! We'll-" 

 "Ray, do you recall what happened during our last vacation period?" 

 "Yeah, I do, and this time we're not gonna be able ta traipse around
Greenland lookin for a jaywalker, 'cause we got plans, got it?" 

 Fraser sighed. "If you insist." He turned to Jim Ellison suddenly. "It
was very nice to meet you both. I will not be able to thank you properly
for helping me discover the truth about myself." 

 Jim reached out a hand and Fraser accepted it, and this time Jim could
barely feel the reaction of being so close to another Sentinel. 

 Blair watched with a grin. "Hey, you don't feel anything, do you? Man,
this is great! This means you've, like, bonded or something. Man, Burton
never talked about what happened when two Sentinels became allies. I
wonder if there could be some kind of connection between you two? Maybe it
grows the longer you-" 

 Jim reached out unceremoniously and clapped a hand over his Guide's
mouth. "Ray, it was fun working with you. Even if you are a punk with a
bad haircut," he couldn't resist throwing out. 

 Ray grinned. "Well, I still think yer a macho asshole, but yeah, it'll be
nice comin back here. Blair, I'm sorry if I got a little...well, y'know.
Sometimes, I get kinda angry, and this whole thing had me so....y'know."
He paused. "You know, right?" 

 Blair nodded, jerking away from Jim's arm. "I know, believe me. And don't
worry about anything. You two are gonna be fine." 

 "Ray, if we're going to make our flight..." 

 "Yeah, yeah. I should make us late, so we'd have to take a car or
somethin." He turned to Blair and Jim for help. "You see this little
two-seat bucket a bolts they got us flyin in?" 

 "Can't be any worse than some of the things we've flown in. I ever tell
you about when we went to rescue Simon and his son from these guerillas in
Peru? Man, we were in this plane, right, and the pilot won't land us in
this-" 

 "Blair. They. Have. To. Go." 

 "Oh." Blair grinned sheepishly. "Sorry." 

 "Naw, go on. He wouldn't land ya-" 

 "Ray?" 

 "Hang on, Frase. So what did ya do?" 

 "Well, next thing I know, Jim's strapping on this parachute, talking
about-" 

 Jim and Fraser exchanged long-suffering looks, and each man reached out
and grabbed their partner by the arm, unceremoniously hauling them from
each other. 

 Blair went without protest, looking back and exchanging waves with Ray
and Fraser. He turned back to Jim finally. "You're lucky I'm such a nice
guy, Jim, that's all I have to say." 

 Ray pulled his arm away from Fraser, trying to look affronted. "That was
rude, Frase. He was talkin! Yer getting worse and worse, ya know that?" 

 Fraser opened his mouth to deny it, but thought about it for a moment.
"You know what, Ray? I believe you're right. But only, and I say this with
relief, towards you." 

 Ray's crooked smile flashed to his partner. "Makes me wonder what I did
ta deserve bein such a lucky guy." 

 "I'm afraid that shall remain one of life's great mysteries." 

 "Frase?" 

 "I'll shut up, Ray." 

 "Thank you kindly." 

 THE END