TITLE: To Bond or Not to
Bond
AUTHOR: Arnie
EMAIL: Arnie1967@btinternet.com
SUMMARY: Sentinel James
Bond (yes, 007) comes to Cascade and meets a Guide.
UNIVERSE: Susan's Cascade
Clan universe, minus the GDP.
DISCLAIMER: James Bond and
M belong to Ian Fleming (and the people who make the films); Jim Ellison, Blair
Sandburg and Chancellor Edwards belong to PetFly and Paramount, and the members
of the Cascade Clan belong to Susan.
Anne Jackson, Marc and Jack are mine.
As is Blair's flamingo tie.
NOTES: Thanks to Susan for
creating the Cascade Clan and allowing me to play in her universe, and thanks
to Susan and Eileen for posting my stories on their fantastic site. Thanks to Georgie for pointing out my sudden
inability to tell between 'were' and 'where' and for re-arranging my commas,
and thanks to Nancy for all the encouragement she never fails to provide.
To
Bond or Not to Bond
by Arnie
"Come in, James."
James Bond, 007, licensed to kill, adjusted his cuffs
and sauntered into M's office with aplomb, all the while feeling a little like
a schoolboy called in to face his headmistress. "Morning, M. Lovely
day, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
Oh. It was
going to be one of those meetings, was it?
"Do you have any idea how much of an
international incident you could have caused with the Maltese Ambassador and
that Pomeranian dog?"
James hid his wince.
As usual, M had got straight to the point. "I -"
"If his wife hadn't been wearing a wig, it could
have got very messy indeed! And I would
have had to clean up your mess for you."
"Yes, M."
When M was in one of these moods, it was better to simply agree with her
rather than trying to argue.
M stepped forward, her diminutive height no bar to
staring down the much taller man.
"Sit down, James. I think
it's about time we got a few things straight."
James sat, feeling at even more of a disadvantage, and
wished that M was not totally immune to his charms.
"Due to your actions at the Maltese Ambassador's
dinner party - which, I admit, led to you saving the world from a terrible
villain...again - it has been decided that you should disappear for a little
while. Not too long, just until the
French Ambassador's wife has had plastic surgery."
He bit his tongue.
That had been a total accident and wouldn't have happened if the woman
hadn't been wearing so much jewellery.
He was totally innocent in that regard!
"So, as we've been getting some reports of
certain activities among the Cascade Sentinel Clan, it's been decided that you
will go and visit Cascade for a while."
Cascade?
Wasn't that in Washington State?
"Your cover will be that you're an international
businessman, with your own computer technology firm, and you're looking into
universities for your nephew to attend.
Make sure that you visit every university in the state, won't you?"
"Yes, M."
"Good.
Visit the Clan, get to know them, find out if there's anything we should
be concerned about. Miss Moneypenny has
the files on all the Sentinels and Guides."
Recognising that as his dismissal, James rose to his feet,
inordinately glad to be leaving.
"Oh, and James."
"Yes, M?"
"If you should happen to find a Guide who'll put
up with you, bond with her...or him. No
matter who they are, we can train them up."
James nodded and left the office quietly, then switched
his charming smile on. He could spend a
few minutes flirting with Moneypenny, so the entire day wouldn't be wasted.
~'~
M smiled as she dialled a well known number and waited
for a very familiar voice to answer her.
"Well?"
"It's done."
"How
did he take it?"
"Sulkily, but he'll go."
"What
will you do if he does find anything out about the Cascade Clan?"
"I'm not going to admit that it was just a ploy
to get rid of him for a while. If he
finds anything out, we'll deal with it."
"I
knew I could count on you, M."
"I live to serve, Prime Minister."
~'~
James faked a smile as he followed the snooty
chancellor around the university. His
cover was impeccable...unfortunately, and the chancellor had been most eager to
impress this wealthy possible patron and persuade him to send his favourite
nephew to Rainier.
"What's down there?"
A look of annoyance, hastily hidden, crossed
Chancellor Edwards' face. "That's
just the Anthropology Department."
James listened.
He could hear jungle drums and a most alluring voice chanting over them.
"My nephew is extremely interested in
Anthropology," he claimed, smiling down at the woman.
The displeasure he had noticed before warred with her
desire to please such a rich man. As he
had known it would, avarice won out.
"Well, then, let me show you around the department."
Her attempt to keep him from the sound of the jungle
drums and chanting failed as he steered her towards the door. There was a brief tussle for control of the
direction they were heading in, but she finally caved and allowed him to reach
his objective.
"What a fascinating beat," he told her. He indicated the handwritten notice affixed
to the front of the door. "Who is
this Blair Sandburg?"
"No one!" she snapped, apparently
automatically. A slightly horrified
glance met his and she added, "Just a Teaching Fellow and grad student
here. He's...rather
unconventional."
He smiled, hiding his thoughts. He bet this Blair Sandburg was
unconventional - and he'd bet a year's wages that the chancellor loathed him
for it. "Could we...?" He put his hand on the doorknob.
"Oh. Of
course." It was obvious that the
chancellor would rather have introduced him to a large, hungry crocodile than
Mr. Blair Sandburg but she didn't have time to find a large, hungry crocodile,
let alone arrange introductions, as he was already opening the door for her.
He followed her in, his ears filtering out the jungle
beat and focussing instead on the wonderfully soothing voice and inviting
heartbeat he could hear.
"Mr. Sandburg!"
The voice stopped chanting and the heartbeat spiked as
the young man in front of them jumped.
The chancellor's voice apparently had no trouble in cutting through the
music to get his attention.
He turned and James smiled, gazing at his future Guide
with pleasure. The young man in
question was shorter than the Sentinel, with mid-length curly brown hair and
large blue eyes...and a most unfortunate taste in clothing. However, that could be fixed.
"Chancellor Edwards!" A smile that should have been beaming but
was, instead, faltering, appeared then disappeared as Blair hurriedly turned
off the music. "I'm sorry. What can I do for you?"
"Actually, dear boy," James stepped forward,
overriding the chancellor's attempt to speak, "we should be apologising to
you for interrupting you. The name's
Bond, James Bond." He stepped
forward and shook his future Guide's hand firmly, and noticed the boy's
widening eyes as he was recognised as a Sentinel. His smile grew as Blair stepped back hurriedly. "My nephew is most interested in
Anthropology and, as he's considering attending Rainier University, the
chancellor most kindly offered to show me around." He smiled again, every predatory instinct
thrilling, as his prey retreated behind the desk. "And I think that I've taken up enough of your valuable
time, Chancellor Edwards. I'm sure that
Mr. Sandburg can show me around the Anthropology Department?" It was phrased as a question but he was
positive he was going to get his way.
The chancellor showed her teeth in what he could only
assume was supposed to be a smile, however, as it was aimed at Blair, it could
have been a snarl. "I'm sure that
Mr. Sandburg will be only too pleased to show you around, Mr. Bond." The words, 'if he wants to keep his job' floated in the air between them.
"Of course."
The tone was flat, the voice, lacklustre, but James
smiled widely. "I'm sure it'll be
a pleasure to be guided by you, Mr. Sandburg."
The double-entendre went unnoticed by Chancellor
Edwards as James escorted her to the door and shut it firmly behind her. Turning, he noticed that his future Guide
was prepared to defend himself with what looked like a South American fertility
artefact. Under the circumstances, he
couldn't help feeling that that was rather appropriate.
"There's no need for violence, dear boy. I'm not going to jump on you."
"Look, Sentinel Bond, I have no interest in
bonding with anyone, okay?"
"Of course, dear boy, of course! I can take no for an answer. Now, how about that tour?"
~'~
In spite of himself, Blair had quite a good time
showing Mr. Bond, or rather, Sentinel
Bond, around the Anthropology Department.
The man asked intelligent questions, listened intently while Blair raved
about various cultures, and made no reference whatsoever to Sentinels, Guides
or bonding.
It wasn't until he was escorted back to his office,
that the subject of Sentinels was raised between them.
"Actually, Blair, I was hoping that you could do
me a favour."
Blair paused as he replaced the South American fertility
goddess he'd been ready to brain the Sentinel with. "And what's that?"
There was a sigh and Blair's instincts cut in. He was about to be conned, he was sure of it.
"I have to attend a Clan gathering tomorrow
night. Unfortunate, of course, but I
can't get out of it, and I was hoping you'd go with me. It's a Sentinel/Guide get-together so
everyone will be in pairs. As I don't
know any other Guide in Cascade, I was hoping you'd help me out."
Blair's hand tightened on the fertility goddess. "I don't intend to b-"
"I know that, Blair. And I respect you for it.
Shall we say, seven tomorrow?"
"I don't think -"
"Of course, I know that Chancellor Edwards would
be only too pleased to help me find another Guide...so if you feel you really
can't help me...."
Blair scowled.
He heard the subtle threat in there and wished, with all of his heart,
that he could tell the guy to get stuffed.
However, Chancellor Edwards would leap at any chance to terminate his
contract and he was positive she'd find a way to use this against him. He'd have to play along for now although,
very fortunately for him, discriminating against a Guide who refused to bond
was illegal, so there was no risk he'd actually have to bond with this
guy. "Seven would be fine,"
he lied.
"Excellent!
I'll bring a car around then.
Where are you staying?"
"Here will be fine, thank you." There was no way he was handing over his
home address to a Sentinel.
"Seven o'clock then. Oh, and Blair...it's a black tie event."
"I'm sure I can find something suitable for the
occasion."
"Excellent.
I'll see you at seven tomorrow, then."
"Bye."
Blair waited until the door had shut behind the
Sentinel and collapsed into his chair.
He'd spent a great deal of his life avoiding Sentinels and now he was
going to be smack bang in the middle of a gang of them. "What is wrong with my Karma?"
~'~
The next evening came all too quickly for Blair,
without any sudden deaths or major catastrophes that he could use as an excuse
to escape the Sentinel shindig he was being dragged to. Naturally, he'd dressed for the occasion;
his tie was black. He'd bought it specially that morning from
the Good Will shop. He was quite
partial to the flamingos on it.
Straightening his black jacket, he brushed off his
black jeans and admired his shirt. It
certainly was eye-catching. Naturally,
it was white...mostly. He'd borrowed it
from a fellow student who was addicted to wearing Hawaiian prints and he
thought that the large red flowers made a nice background for the flamingos. He grinned at himself in the mirror. Somehow he doubted if Mr. Sentinel Bond
would be interested in seeing him again.
The shirt alone should be enough to give him a zone out.
Glancing at the clock, he realised that he had to
leave now if he was to beat Bond to his office. For a second, he hovered, torn between wearing his outrageous
outfit or doing the anthropological thing and blending in with the
natives. Stiffening his resolve, he
reminded himself that he did not want to bond and if it took looking like a
jerk, he was willing to pay that price.
For once the Volvo started like a dream and he took a
minute to curse the contrariness of his car.
If he'd had a hot date, he could have counted on the Volvo to refuse to
start or, if there was a thunderstorm, to break down halfway between bus stops.
He made it safely to his office and lurked there,
wondering if he could get away with hitting the sentinel over the head, tying
him up in a chair and claiming that rabid anthropologists had done it in order
to steal his South American fertility statue.
Finally, he shook his head. If
he did that, he'd have to get rid of his fertility goddess to back up his
story, and she'd done wonders for his sex life. Besides that, the Sentinel would undoubtedly realise that Blair
had been the only one there and that he would, therefore, be the only suspect.
A polite knock at the door interrupted him and he
jumped slightly. It had to be Bond; the
British were always so polite. He
suspected it came from years of invading different countries; they had so many
enemies now, it paid to be polite to anyone who'd talk to them. "Come in!"
"Ah, you're," there was a micro-second's
pause as Bond's eyes widened, then he continued, "here. I see that you had no luck in finding a
tuxedo, dear boy. No matter," he
talked over Blair as that young man attempted to explain that this was what he was wearing and the
Sentinel could like it or lump it, "I happen to have a spare suit and I'm
sure it will fit you admirably."
He held out a carrier bag that had the name of a very exclusive men's
wear store on the side.
Finally, Blair took the bag, glaring at the Sentinel
and the bag as he did so.
"Fine.
I'll just wait outside."
The door shut behind him and Blair heard a delighted, "Why, hello,
Chancellor Edwards!"
Furiously, he ripped off his beloved flamingo tie and
undressed, hurling his clothes onto his chair as he went. With a very bad grace, he yanked the tuxedo
out of its bag and held it up against himself.
As he'd expected, it fit to perfection.
"Spare suit, my ass!" he muttered, well aware that the
Sentinel could hear him. He dressed,
fastened the gold cufflinks that had been in the bottom of the bag, and yanked
open the door.
"Perfect, dear boy, perfect!" the Sentinel
enthused as Chancellor Edwards' jaw dropped slightly.
She recovered quickly and a tight unhappy smile
settled upon her face. "Going out,
Mr. Sandburg?" she asked.
"Blair's been kind enough to promise to attend a
Clan gathering with me," the Sentinel told her. "Well, we must be going." Gallantly, he kissed her hand.
Blair gagged slightly. If the Sentinel had had any idea of how poisonous the chancellor
was, he would have demanded a haz-mat suit before he even shook her hand, let alone kissed it. His eyes widened as the chancellor giggled in a girlish manner,
and he hoped, fervently, that she wasn't going to start flirting. He really didn't think he'd be able to take
it. Fortunately for him, before she
could, Bond's hand was at the small of his back and he was being steered
towards the exit with Bond expressing profound regrets that he couldn't stay
and spend the rest of the evening with Letitia.
Once they were outside, Blair stepped to one side,
removing his back from Bond's hand. To
his credit, the Sentinel made no protest - not that it would have mattered to
Blair if he did.
"Tell me, dear boy..."
Blair glanced at him, then wished he hadn't. That annoying smile of his was still in
place, causing several students to swoon in the parking lot.
"...where on Earth did you get that repulsive
shirt?"
"Oh, I've had it for -"
"Try again."
He sighed.
Damned Sentinels with their lie detector abilities. "I borrowed it from a friend."
"You'll have to introduce me to him so I'll know
whom to avoid," the Sentinel drawled.
"You're not likely to be here that long, are
you?"
"Oh, I don't know..." the Sentinel eyed him
meaningfully. "This place has more
advantages than I originally supposed.
This way." He stopped by a
sports car that was in perfect condition.
"Nice car."
"I usually drive an Aston Martin."
Blair caught the glance thrown over the Sentinel's
shoulder at him, as if the man was trying to entice him with the thought of
driving a fancy sports car. "I
have a classic myself," he replied, shortly.
"Oh? What
type?"
"A Volvo."
"Very reliable."
Blair restrained his laughter as he sat in the
passenger seat and allowed, not that he had any choice, Bond to shut the car
door for him. His Volvo was anything
but reliable, but in spite of that, he wouldn't swap her for the world. He most certainly would not swap her for an
Aston Martin, Sentinel or no Sentinel.
Returning monosyllabic replies to all of Bond's
overtures, Blair managed to keep the conversation to a minimum. He wasn't interested in making small talk
with the Sentinel; he just wanted this night over and done with.
Entering the hotel hired for the Clan gathering, he
glanced around, feeling the tension rise in him. There were Sentinels and Guides everywhere.
"Sentinel Bond!
We're glad you could make it."
Blair glanced up into the brown eyes of the tall
Sentinel, then glanced at the shorter Guide beside him who was smiling at Blair
shyly. Not one to be impolite, Blair
smiled back. He had no problem with
Guides; it was Sentinels he was wary of.
"I'm Sentinel Edwards, this is my Guide,
David."
"Pleased to meet you," Bond replied.
In spite of himself, Blair was curious. He'd never had a chance to see Sentinels
interacting on a social basis before and his anthropological mind was busily taking
notes as the two Sentinels shook hands but Bond made no attempt to shake hands
with the Guide.
"You both know my name, but this is m...Blair
Sandburg."
Blair realised that Bond had been on the verge of
saying "my Guide" and, in a fit of pique, he ignored the apparent
protocol and stuck his hand out to Sentinel Edwards. "Hi."
He noticed the startled glance Edwards gave Bond and
felt the accompanying shock from him as they briefly shook hands. There were no surprised looks when Blair
shook David's hand, so he guessed that either it was fine for Guides to shake
hands with each other or they'd already expected him to break that social
taboo.
Edwards was giving Bond a questioning look, and Blair
kept his face straight as he heard the answer, "We're not bonded."
"And we're not going to be." Blair pinned a friendly smile to his
face. "I'm just here as Sentinel
Bond's guest."
"I...see."
Blair could tell that Edwards didn't see, but he
didn't bother offering any explanations.
"Well, let me introduce you around. The Senior Sentinel Prime isn't here yet,
but he's due any...ah, there he is.
Sentinel Bond, Blair."
Blair followed Bond as the two of them were shepherded
across the crowded room to another entrance where a tall man had just entered
the room alone.
"Senior Sentinel Prime."
"Edwards, Davi -" The Sentinel stared at Blair.
His nostrils flared.
"Guide." The word was
growled softly.
Blair's view of the Sentinel was interrupted by Bond's
shoulder, not that he minded for once.
That guy had a determined look on his face that was making the hairs on
the back of Blair's neck stand up straight.
"The name's Bond...Sentinel Bond."
"Ellison.
Senior Sentinel Prime of Cascade and the Northern
Territories." A large hand moved
Bond to one side and Ellison continued, his eyes holding Blair's in a hard
stare, "And you are?"
"Blair.
Sandburg." Blair fought his
instincts which were suggesting that he start running now and not stop until he
hit Alaska.
"Not bonded?" The eyebrows were raised in interest, the voice soft.
He did take a step back at that.
"Actually, old man, he's going to bond with
me."
Bond's shoulder was in the way again and Blair
retreated while Ellison's view was blocked.
Then backed up again as Bond was moved to one side once more.
"But, as you're not bonded yet, there's no reason
why Sandburg and I can't bond."
Blair stepped back even further, panic gnawing at his
mind as the other Sentinels kept pace with him. The other Guide seemed to be getting rather nervous too and leaned
into Edwards' side.
"Senior Se -" Edwards was interrupted by
Bond's hard-edged voice.
"I brought him here!"
Ellison's voice was just as hard. "And you're not bonded to him, so he's
free to leave with anyone."
Bond's back was to him but the other Sentinel had his
eyes fixed firmly on Blair's face, and Blair didn't like it one bit. Grabbing what was left of his resolve, he
stepped forward in between them.
"Look, guys, I'm not bonding with anyone, so you can just cut out
the peeing on each other's territory bit.
When I leave, I'll be leaving alone." He turned his head and gave each Sentinel a hard glare of
warning.
He heard identical snorts of laughter from the two
Sentinels who wanted to claim him, then, "Edwards."
"Yes, Senior Sentinel Prime?"
Blair found himself moved firmly backwards towards
Edwards. "Mind my Guide for
me."
His jaw dropped with disbelief. Hadn't they heard a word he'd said? "I'm not -"
"Yes, Senior Sentinel Prime."
"You're awfully sure of yourself, old
man." Bond sneered the last two
words.
"Yes, I am, aren't I?" The smile on Ellison's face was not a nice
one.
Looking around hurriedly, Blair realised that they had
the attention of everyone, and the entire room was buzzing with excitement.
"This is ridiculous!" He tried to step forward again but Edwards'
hand grasped his arm and pulled him away.
"You can't let them do this!"
"The Senior Sentinel Prime can take care of
himself," Edwards told him soothingly, obviously believing he needed the
comfort of hearing that.
"That's not my problem." Blair tried to yank his arm free, but
Edwards' hand remained firmly in place.
"What I'm saying is that I'm not going to bond with anyone, so
fighting over me is a waste of time."
The Sentinel smiled, his other arm wrapped around his
Guide. "It'll be all right,
Blair. Just relax."
"He'd be better off with me, you know," Bond
taunted as he began to slide his jacket off.
"I can take him to exotic places, broaden his horizons...while you
can offer," his eyes flicked sneeringly over the room,
"Cascade."
Ellison mirrored his actions, dropping his jacket to
one side. "I think his horizons
will be just fine in Cascade. He
obviously didn't come over with you so he must be a native. Far better for him to not have to give up
his friends and family."
"Or the rain!"
"I'll buy him an umbrella."
"I'll buy my own umbrella!" Blair all but
shouted.
"Quiet, Guide," Edwards murmured. "They don't need to be distracted
now."
Blair thought quickly. This was really happening!
What was he, a medieval damsel being fought over by two thick-headed
knights? He really didn't need these
complications in his life, but how could he escape? While everyone's attention appeared riveted on the fight
developing in their midst, Edwards' hand was still clamped around his arm
meaning that he was going nowhere.
Heck, it was a good job Ellison had arrived before he'd had a drink or
he might need the -
"I need the bathroom." He kept his voice quiet and mentally crossed
his fingers. While Sentinels would ordinarily
be able to spot a lie at a hundred yards, he was so agitated that he was
positive none of them would be able to tell for sure.
"What?"
From the stunned look on Edwards' face and the way the other two were
staring at him, he suspected they were buying it.
"Sorry. I
know you're busy fighting over me but uh..." he did a little hop dance to emphasise his need, "...I'm
getting kind of desperate here."
"Fine."
Ellison's tone was flat.
"Fine!"
Bond nodded as if Blair needed his permission.
"This way."
Edwards' led the way to the men's room, his own Guide still tightly
tucked into his side.
Blair looked back at the following Sentinels. "Guys, it's okay. I don't need an escort. I think I can find my own way back."
Two feral smiles flashed out at him.
"Not at all," Ellison reassured him.
"My pleasure," Bond chimed in.
Blair gave a half-smile that he knew was as genuine as
theirs. Once at the door, he glanced
around at the roomful of people, all of whom were watching him with avid
interest, and felt himself blushing.
"I'll just be uh...."
He retreated hurriedly and shut the door behind him, overwhelmingly
relieved that they hadn't decided to come in with him. If they had, even if he had been as
desperate as he pretended, he knew there would have been no way he could ever
have persuaded his bladder to cooperate.
Turning his back on the door, he hurriedly scanned the facilities
available to him then checked out the stalls.
One of them boasted a window, which was good, but he was positive 'his'
Sentinels would be listening out for him.
How could he hide the sounds of his escape?
He smiled, a pure blinding smile that would have
dazzled any passing angel. How simple
was this? He locked the door of his
stall, trusting to the lock to give him a few precious seconds more, then
climbed quietly up onto the cistern and grabbed the window catch firmly. All he needed was a few minutes' grace and
he'd be gone. Reaching down, he flushed
the toilet then threw the catch and scrambled out, trusting to the white noise
of the water to cover his movements.
Quietly, he shut the window, then ran.
~'~
The white noise of water filled his hearing and Jim
dialled his hearing down, frowning. He
hadn't heard his Guide do much except lock the door and flush the toilet. Not that he was into listening to people
pee, but he was wary of letting his Guide out of earshot in case he escaped.
His jaw clenched as the realisation hit him and he
threw open the door to the men's room, forcing his hearing past the white noise. As he had expected, his Guide's heartbeat
was missing. "He's gone!"
"What?"
Bond looked genuinely startled.
Obviously he had been far too polite to listen in to Jim's Guide.
The Sentinel just managed to stop himself from
smirking as he kicked in the door of the locked stall, Bond at his back. If that didn't prove that Bond wasn't
Sandburg's Sentinel, he didn't know what would.
Growling softly to himself, the Dark Sentinel threw
open the window and looked around.
Sandburg's scent was there, rapidly disappearing in the fresh air, but
his Guide was out of sight. "We'll
have to search for him." He pushed
Bond out of the way and headed back towards Edwards.
"That damned..." Bond stopped himself then muttered, "He must be going back
to Rainier for his car."
"The university?" Jim demanded.
"Oh!
Yes."
In spite of the startled look that was still on Bond's
face, Jim realised that his body rhythms were not, in any way, betraying
anxiety but seemed to be indicating a high level of complacency and he stopped,
grabbing the other Sentinel's arm firmly.
"What do you know that I don't?"
The startled look disappeared and a smirk took its
place. "Well, really, old man...I
suspect that the things I know that you don't would fill an
encyclopaedia."
Releasing the arm, Jim leaned against that doorframe,
blocking the way out, his gaze calmly regarding the Sentinel in front of
him. "You know, Bond, I think
you'd be more comfortable in the Sentinel Suite in the City Hall. At least until after my Clan and I find
Sandburg."
Bond's eyes opened wider, the smirk disappearing in a
flash. "Now, look -"
"I could have you escorted and held there until
after Sandburg's found." Jim was
pleased to note that he had rattled the other Sentinel as a fine line of sweat
appeared on the man's upper lip.
In spite of that, his voice was as laidback as
ever. "Hardly sporting though, is
it, old man?"
"All's fair in love and
bonding...Bond." Jim waited for a
few seconds then added, "Or you can tell me what advantage you think
you've got." He held up one hand
to stop Bond's automatic denial.
"You're not worried about losing Sandburg." He paced around the other Sentinel slowly
then murmured, "You've got some way to keep track of him, haven't
you?" The spike in Bond's heart rate
told him he'd hit on the truth.
"What and how?"
Bond shook his head then capitulated. "There are micro-transmitters fitted
inside the cufflinks he's wearing. I
suspected he might try to disappear at some point, although I didn't expect to
have to fight another Sentinel for him."
Jim ignored the glare that was sent his way and
demanded, "Where's the tracker?"
There was silence as the other Sentinel set his jaw
stubbornly.
"We'll find him, then we'll decide who gets
him. Fair?"
There was a slow nod then Bond added, "But I keep
hold of the tracker."
"Agreed, but we'll take my truck. Edwards!"
Jim left Edwards to send Sentinels and Guides to
discover Sandburg's home address and watch Rainier University and the bus and
train stations, but claimed two Sentinel and Guide pairs to accompany himself
and Bond. He didn't trust Bond as far
as he could throw him and he was sure the weaker Sentinel was not above trying
to trick him in order to claim Sandburg for himself. While Jim was quite happy to resort to such tricks if need be, he
knew that he could easily take Bond in a fair fight. The Dark Sentinel stirred angrily in his mind. Losing the Guide was not an option; if Bond
tried to double-cross him, he'd be taken out in whatever way was necessary.
~'~
James raised an eyebrow when he saw the vehicle that
Ellison led him to. Fortunately for
them, the other Sentinels and Guides would be going in their own cars and not
be forced to sit in this 'truck'. Not
that there would be room for all of them.
He kept a calm look on his face as he took his place
in the passenger seat. His small
attempt at diverting the Senior Sentinel Prime and sending him and his Clan off
to Rainier University while he, James, tracked Blair using the transmitting
cufflinks, had failed. He had never
supposed that Blair would be foolish enough to return to the university, as the
Guide had to realise that that would be one of the first places they would
search for him.
It didn't matter.
James was quite sure that he had enough tricks up his sleeve to defeat
the other Sentinel and win Blair as his Guide.
The other Sentinels and Guides would be a complication but he was also
confident that he could overcome them.
In any case, if he appeared to win the fight fairly, they wouldn't interfere
in his bonding with Blair. He repressed
a smile. He was good at winning
'fairly'.
"Hmm?"
He realised that Ellison was talking to him and raised his eyebrow
enquiringly. It was a good thing that
Sentinels couldn't read minds; if the other Sentinel knew what he was thinking,
he'd find himself locked up in that Sentinel Suite for sure until Blair was
well and truly bonded to his rival.
"I said, 'do you have the tracker?'."
"Oh, of course." James pulled the ultra-thin tracking device from his breast
pocket. He had been extremely glad when
Q had come up with this modified sleek design as the larger versions had played
merry hell with the line of his suit.
Turning it on, he tuned into Blair's frequency and pointed, "He's
headed that way."
Watching the direction indicator, his mind ran on for
a few moments, deliberating the challenges he'd have to face once he'd bonded
with Blair. He hoped the boy wasn't
attached to his hippie image or his long hair as they'd both have to go. However, time enough to face that once he'd
found Blair and they were firmly bonded.
A glance at the determined jaw of the Sentinel at his side reminded
James of another problem. He'd have to make
sure that Ellison was in no condition to interfere until after he and Blair had
left Cascade, as there was a risk the other Sentinel would challenge him for
possession of his Guide. While it was
rare, it was not unknown for Sentinels to fight to the death to win an already
bonded Guide, and the Senior Sentinel Prime of Cascade and the Northern
Territories would not take defeat lightly.
A bleep from the tracker interrupted his
thoughts. "This way now."
Ten minutes later, they were standing outside a
derelict warehouse, the tracker bleeping steadily.
James was horrified.
"What on earth can the boy be doing here?"
He caught the impatient look Ellison threw him as he
replied, "He's not here."
The tracker continued to bleep and James frowned down
at it.
Ellison snatched it out of his hand. "Stop relying on those gadgets for a minute
and listen!" He stalked off
towards the building leaving James behind.
Frowning, James listened, allowing his hearing to
sweep through the building. He could
hear the faint hum of the transmitters, and the rapid heartbeats of several
small creatures - probably, he realised with a flash of distaste, rodents - but
there was no soothing heartbeat from his Guide. The sounds of metal scraping across metal interrupted him and he
blinked, pulling his hearing back quickly.
Ellison was picking the lock on the front door.
James raised an eyebrow but refrained from commenting
as he followed the police detective and the other Sentinels and Guides into the
building. If he hadn't read Ellison's
file and known that he was an ex-Ranger and ex-Covert Ops, he would have been
wondering which of his morally-challenged contacts had taught him to pick locks
so well.
The mystery of the cufflinks was solved. The very expensive tuxedo that James had
purchased earlier that day was lying in a heap on a shabby couch, the cufflinks
neatly laid on top of them. James
picked them up. He'd been quite pleased
with his forethought at manipulating Blair into wearing them, however, it
seemed it had been a waste. Was this
where the boy lived? And what on earth
had made him get changed?
"It looks like he packed a few things too."
Looking up, he stared at the chest of drawers that had
its drawers open and its remaining contents spilling out, then glanced around
at the rest of the living area.
"How on earth can you tell?"
"Scent.
He handled these clothes tonight.
Why else would he bother unless he was packing? I'd guess he's planning to run." The ringing of his cell phone interrupted
him and Jim paused to answer it.
"Ellison."
James eavesdropped shamelessly. It was Edwards, giving Ellison Blair's home
address. So this was where the boy lived.
"Yeah, we're here now. I'll phone you if we find anything. Bye."
"His scent's all over these clothes."
James turned to look at the tall good-looking blonde
who was delicately sniffing at the tuxedo.
"That's only to be expected, Sentinel...?"
"Pais.
Lisa Pais. This is my Guide,
Karl."
He was glad that he wasn't a sensitive man or the
hostile looks he was getting could have bothered him. Obviously, they considered him to be an interloper who was
threatening the prospective bond between Ellison and Blair, whereas if he
hadn't brought Blair to the gathering, there would be no prospective bond.
"I just meant that if we pass these out to the
other Sentinels in the Clan, they'll be able to recognise Guide Sandburg no
matter what he's wearing or what he looks like."
James gave the tall blonde another look. Brains and good looks, just his type. He noticed the glare her Guide was giving
him and carefully kept any trace of a smile off his face. He'd never been challenged by a Guide before
and, while the experience could prove interesting, he had other things on his
mind at present.
"That should make it easier to find him."
He glanced over at the Guide who looked like
everyone's favourite maiden aunt then did a double-take. Good Lord, she was the Sentinel and the huge
hulk who was hovering over her was her Guide.
How on earth did she manage -
His thoughts broke off as her steely-eyed gaze met
his. That explained everything: she was
another M in disguise. Both of them
small, sweet-looking ladies with the temperaments of steamrollers. No wonder she needed a large Guide; a
smaller one would have been flattened by now.
"Good idea, Lisa."
James' attention snapped back to the conversation at
hand as Ellison left the chest of drawers and took charge.
"Dr. Harvey, will you and Jon take Sandburg's
clothes to Edwards? Lisa, Karl and
I...and Bond, of course, will search for any hint as to where he's gone."
The unconventional pairing nodded and left, James
gazing after them as they went.
"She's quite lethal, you know."
"I beg your pardon?" James stared at Ellison.
"Dr. Harvey." A glimmer of a smile appeared on the man's face. "I've often thought that it's a good
thing she never trained for Covert Ops.
She really doesn't need the extra edge."
James had a brief vision of M dressed in combat
fatigues, her face covered in camouflage paint, her belt heavy with knives and
guns. He shuddered. "I quite agree," he said,
fervently. Changing the subject, he
continued, "You know, I think it would be better if I were to continue my
search for Blair alone. I'm sure we can
cover twice the ground that way."
Ellison's eyes met his. "The Clan can cover enough ground for all of us. You stay with me."
"Anyone would think you didn't trust me, old
man," James replied sarcastically.
A glimmer of a smile crossed Ellison's face. "I don't."
~'~
Blair couldn't flatter himself that he was doing
anything but scurrying from corner to corner when he finally reached Anne
Jackson's apartment. Anne, formerly
Andromeda Moondust Orion (daughter of Sirius and Rainbow Orion - previously
Kevin and Marion Jackson), was one of his oldest friends.
They'd met at various stages throughout their lives,
each time in yet another commune that her parents and his mother had migrated
to. After swearing eternal love and
devotion to each other at the tender age of seven and six, their previously
declared adoration had settled down into a strong friendship that had never
waned. No matter where they were, they
managed to keep in touch. Anne had
cried on Blair's shoulder when her first adult love had turned out to have feet
of clay, and Blair knew that no matter what else was going on in his life, he
could count on Anne to back him up.
After Blair had settled down in Cascade, Anne had soon followed suit,
and disappointed her parents by shortening her name to 'Anne', reclaiming their
rejected surname and becoming a teacher.
Anne had silenced their protests by pointing out that she had considered
going to the police academy, and all arguments from them had ceased from that
point on.
In any case, Anne was guaranteed to offer Blair a
haven to hide away until the Sentinels either stopped searching or died of old
age. Therefore, he headed straight for
her apartment building and ran up the stairs until he reached her front door.
~'~
Anne hurriedly turned off the DVD she and Marc, a
fellow teacher, were watching as a frantic knocking was heard. "What on earth...."
Marc jumped to his feet. "I'll get it!"
Anne followed him down the hall. She was well aware of what Marc was
doing. He'd been trying to get her to
go on a date with him for months now, and how better to get fair maiden to fall
for rugged charms than by defending her against the axe murdering visitor who
was, even now, thumping on the door again?
"Who are you?"
Anne could see her pseudo-brother looking her would-be rescuer up and down with confusion on his face, and moved past Marc to get h