Disclaimer: This is an amateur effort written purely for the fun of it, and no money has exchanged hands. It is not intended to breach the copyright of Paramount/Pet Fly Productions or CBS Productions/Studios USA.

Warning: Adult language and situations.

The Reflection in the Mirror Series: Part 4 (December 5, 2001)

EYE OF THE TIGER

By Susan and Maedoc

Hunter crouched behind the car, his guide behind him. It never failed; he always managed to end up in the middle of a hostage situation or a shoot out. This time, the hostages and the bank robbers were in a building across the street currently surrounded by the SWAT team.

“Keep behind me, Gary,” he warned. His guide obeyed him without question, but kept a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, steadying his sentinel and grounding him.

“I thought we just did this last week,” Gary muttered humorously. Nothing much fazed the younger man; he was steady as a rock.

“Well, it makes a break from chasing down the latest leads on the Vincenzo murder,” Hunter shrugged. “Syndicate hit - and damn if I can figure out who leaked the safe house location.”

“Maybe you should transfer to IA,” Gary suggested, tongue in cheek. “You always did like to kick ass and take names.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter growled, swatting his guide with mock irritation.

“You’re close, Hunter. I can feel it.” Gary suddenly shivered. It was as if a ice cold fog had moved over him.

“Gary?” Hunter turned to look at his guide. ‘What’s wrong?”

Before he could voice another word, the high pitched sound of a bullet caused Hunter to reflexively slam them both to the ground. “What the...?”

It had come from their side of the street. Holding his gun up, Hunter’s sentinel senses searched and found the heat path left by the bullet and traced it back to...“Shit. It’s one of ours. Gary, we have to move....”

A second whine, and this time Gary shoved Hunter to the side as something slammed into the guide with a horrible ripping sound.

Gary made a gurgling noise and Hunter frantically turned the smaller man on his back. His guide had been shot in the neck, just above the Kevlar vest.

“Man down!” Hunter yelled, pressing frantically against the wound. “I got you, kid. Just hang on until I get the medics.”

The amount of blood was staggering. Gary choked as he grabbed onto Hunter, trying to breathe. I’m sorry, Hunter. The bond they shared was fading.

“Don’t you dare die on me! Gary? Gary!” Hunter could feel the blood pumping through his hands as Gary’s eyes glazed over, and after several agonizing seconds, the tortured breathing stilled forever. Hunter felt the empathic connection finally break, leaving him cold and alone.

Hunter lifted his hands from the body that had been his guide. A third bullet whizzed over, and Hunter spun and instinctively shot at the sniper, barely registering when a SWAT team member fell from his perch.

They’ll pay. They’ll all pay.

Hunter woke, heart pounding frantically. He hadn’t had the nightmare in months, not since leaving DC. His guide... his sensory net picked up Sarah’s even breathing and he slumped back. She was safe.

He was soaked in an ice-cold sweat. Getting up, he got in the shower to warm up. He hadn’t expected the dream to return. It was three a.m. and he had to get up in few hours to go to work - their first day back since the kidnapping. Pulling on clean sweats, he trudged downstairs. He couldn’t sleep now.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Blair crouched next to his unconscious sentinel. Another head injury and Simon would probably make Jim wear a helmet. Okay, so the small avalanche of objects that had tumbled from the roof of the warehouse wasn’t exactly a predictable thing even given their penchant for the weird and off the wall, but it had effectively incapacitated Jim.

“Come on, Jim, you have to wake up,” Blair urged, uneasy. It was dark and their back up he had radioed for still hadn’t arrived. The drug dealers were still in the warehouse.

“Hello, Blair,” Blair spun around to see a familiar face. Leo smiled at him.

“You’re dead,.” Blair blurted. “You’re not real.”

“I’m very real,” Leo countered, holding his gun steady. “I told you I’d be back.”

“You’re dead,” screamed Blair, shaking Jim to no avail.

“So are you,” Kessler said before firing. Blair felt the bullet enter his throat, ripping his windpipe.

Can’t breathe. He could only make gurgling noises as Kessler moved over and shot Jim through the head. Blair’s last vision was of Jim’s motionless body with half his head gone.

Blair woke in a panic. It was just a dream. Leo Kessler was dead and gone. He couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Glancing around at the shadows in his room, he felt chilled. Blair got up and padded barefoot into the kitchen to get a drink of water. He looked up the stairs to where Jim slept. Keeping his voice calm even as his heart hammered away, he said, “It’s okay, Jim. Just getting a drink. All’s well in your territory -- the guide is safe.”

Upstairs, the sentinel turned over, and slid back into sleep again. His unconscious mind had registered his guide moving around the loft. Blair’s reassurance eased Jim back into sleep, but something else was niggling at him despite his guide’s calming words.

Blair sat down on the sofa and tugged the blanket around himself. His mind was whirling and his fingers tapped the side of the glass, a nervous reaction that he wasn’t even aware of. He tried to work through the nightmare that had woken him.

He had felt the connection between the Shield and the Dark Guide coalesce. Hunter had said that he had felt Blair’s fear and pain when he had opened the email. Now it seemed it was a two way street.

Blair had felt Hunter’s pain even in the depths of sleep, and that had spiraled him into his worse nightmare. Blair had a lifetime’s worth of bad memories to torment him, but this one was the worst.

There had been a time when Jim had lost his memory in an accident, and he had reverted to a guide’s nightmare sentinel -- all ‘my way or the highway’. Blair rubbed his face and shuddered. He could still remember Jim backhanding him across the face, putting him down on his knees. The pain from the blows was nothing compared to emotional distress of having Jim do a 360 and treat him like he was less than human.

When Jim had looked at him, his eyes were someone else’s. The sentinel must have picked up the scent of his guide’s fear, yet Blair still had been treated worse than a dog. The humane society would have rescued a dog from this hell, but a guide...a guide didn’t even rate protection. A guide had no rights at all.

Remembering the bits and pieces of how Jim had treated him, Blair had somehow emerged from the swamp of fear only to find himself in another nightmare: Jim was helpless, and Leo had come for his revenge.

Nothing could have hurt Blair more than to watch his sentinel, his best friend, die in front of him. Not even dying himself could hurt as much as this. Blair knew intellectually that his nightmares were merely an expression of his unconscious fears and not a psychic premonition of revenge from beyond the grave, but he felt the bullet rip through his neck with an intensity that convinced him that there was more than just Blair nightmares at work.

“Blair.”

The voice in the dark made him jump. “Jim.” Blair bit his lip; he knew that his sentinel would hear the tremor in his voice.

“You wanna explain why you’re sitting here with a heart rate of 140?” Jim sat down next to his guide.

“Bad dream,” Blair offered weakly.

“Uh huh,” Jim said skeptically. “Let’s try that one again.”

“I dreamt about Leo Kessler,” Blair said, carefully avoiding the part about Jim’s head injured personality. One word about that and Jim would go BP, and then into a depressive funk of guilt.

“He can’t hurt you, Blair.”

“He came back. You were unconscious, and he came back. He shot me, then he killed you.” Blair tugged at his hair, trying to banish the images.

Jim reached out for his guide, drawing him close. “Musta been pretty scary, Chief.” He moved his hand soothingly over Blair’s back.

“How did Hunter’s guide die, Jim?” Blair looked haunted.

“He was shot by a SWAT team member on the take. He actually saved Hunter’s life by shoving him out of the way.” Jim was trying to figure out why this was so important.

“Where was he shot?”

“Through the neck, just above his vest. Bastard did it on purpose.”

“That’s what happened in the dream. I could feel the bullet, Jim. I could feel it.” Blair was getting agitated.

“Easy, Chief. Just because you had a dream doesn’t mean you’re channeling.”

“I’m sharing Hunter’s dream,” Blair insisted. “I’m dreaming his dreams.”

“This is just a bit too Twilight Zone for me, Chief,” Jim said firmly. “You’re not going to convince me that you’ve somehow tapped into Hunter’s subconscious after one bonding.”

Blair just stared at Jim, Dark Guide looking out through his eyes, willing his sentinel to understand and believe that there were more things in heaven and earth than Jim’s pragmatic nature would admit to.

Jim sighed, but knew that Blair wouldn’t rest until he had convinced Jim that magic was afoot.

“Tell me what you need, Blair.”

“Claim and mark, Sentinel.” Blair shivered again despite the blanket around his shoulders.

“Claimed and Marked, Guide.” Jim stood up.

Blair needed to banish the hurtful memories, just as he needed to understand the ones that somehow connected him to Hunter. The hand that took his arm was firm but gentle. As Blair was drawn up, he only had time to place the water glass down, when he was swept into strong arms and taken to the sentinel’s territory. With a sigh, Blair just hung on for the ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah stirred as she felt her sentinel’s turmoil. Frowning, she sat up. Something wasn’t right. She crept out of room, not even bothering to put a robe on over her PJs. Moving barefoot down the hall, she peered first into the bathroom -- no Hunter. His bedroom door was open and the room was empty.

The downstairs was dark, but then, Hunter wouldn’t need to turn on the lights. She went down the stairs carefully and saw his shadowy figure at the open patio door. The moon illuminated his face just enough to see him but not to distinguish his expression. The night breeze ruffled the edges of his hair. He was staring at the mountain again.

“Captain Hunter?” she said softly, unsure whether he had heard her.

“Go back to bed, Sarah.” His voice was flat.

She reached out to touch him, but withdrew her hand at the last second. She retreated to the kitchen and pulled out a mug and began heating water. She deliberately bypassed the coffee and went for the cocoa. When the mug was ready, she moved back into the living room.

“Here.” She pressed the mug into his unresisting hand.

He sipped, more from force of habit than need, then frowned as the taste registered. “This isn’t coffee.”

“It’s hot chocolate,” she explained patiently. “Chocolate makes you feel better.”

“I thought that was a female myth,” Hunter said, but took another sip. His guide was fussing over him, and he was man enough to admit to liking it.

“No, really, it has something to do with endorphins. It’s actually a mood elevator. I read about it once.”

“Better living through chemistry?” Hunter raised an eyebrow.

“It’s comfort food -- like chicken soup.” Sarah wasn’t surprised by the dubious expression on Hunter’s face.

“You think I need comforting?” That eyebrow had almost launched off his forehead.

Sarah paused, but then let her empathic instincts guide her. “Yes.” She reached out and touched his shoulder, and when he didn’t object, leaned into his back. Her hand moved in a slow circle -- light, almost questioning. She didn’t know what was wrong, but knew that she had to help him.

Hunter could feel the hesitancy in her. She was unsure of him on many levels, and it was rarely that she touched him of her own volition. He took a few more sips of the chocolate and then set the mug down.

Moving backward, he led them to the bonding mat. Sarah knelt down, and Hunter circled her several times, sentinel senses surrounding her. Hunter finally settled onto the mat, pulling his guide down beside him.

“Mine,” he growled, in a way that would have scared her to death a week ago.

“Yours,” she whispered, sensing his pain, an old grief that strangled her and made her feel like crying.

When his head settled on her back and she moved into his mind, she caught the glimpse of a face, a young man with sandy hair and warm brown eyes, then it slipped away leaving the tiger alone in his frozen landscape.

Sentinel and guide both closed their eyes and didn’t stir again until morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The light coming through the patio door woke her. They had both fallen asleep after the bonding, something that they had done several times before, but usually Hunter woke at first light, his sentinel senses detecting that subtle change that triggered his circadian rhythm. This time, he was still asleep, no doubt exhausted by whatever had upset him last night. She moved, and when she brushed against Hunter, she froze. Oh, God. He was....

Hunter stirred and lifted his head. He still had her partially pinned beneath him, and she was staring up at him in shock. Registering her panicked heart rate, he moved back onto his side. Sarah tried desperately to move away from him, but he held her still.

“Sarah, it’s okay.”

She went beet red with embarrassment. He had never....

“It’s an involuntary response, Sarah.” His lips twitched. “We men don’t have much control over that. It doesn’t mean that...”

Sarah moved from embarrassment to fear. Mandy had warned her, and she had foolishly trusted Blair’s reassurance. Now Hunter was going to...

“Sarah, nothing’s going to happen.” He sounded condescendingly amused. “I think I can control my animal passions.”

She felt tears pricking her eyelids. He was laughing at her -- making her feel stupid and silly and small.

Hunter shifted so that he lay on his back and pulled her over so that her head rested on his chest. She was shivering, refusing to look at him. Hunter knew whatever he said, she was probably going to take it the wrong way. “Sarah, it’s just one of those things that happens. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to attack you, or that you did anything to cause it. You’re my guide, not my sex slave. Besides, after my ex-wife, I’ve sworn off women for a while.”

Hunter sighed. She was so damn young, and so inexperienced. He decided to tackle the issue head on as per his usual method. “Okay, let me explain something here. I know damn well you haven’t done anything more serious than hold hands with a boy. That’s not bad and it’s not wrong. I, on the other hand, have probably done far too many things that I shouldn’t have. We’re not in the same book, much less on the same page.”

She tried again to pull away, but his grip tightened, so she subsided.

“What happened just now is physiology. Reading a magazine or watching TV can do that. It just happens sometimes; it’s not you. Before you take that the wrong way, that’s not an insult to your female charm. You’re adorable, Tiger, but you’re half my age and I don’t mess around with kids.”

She registered the casual endearment, but shifted unhappily. No matter how he put it, she felt terrible.

“It happens sometimes, that a sentinel and guide get involved, but I’m not in the market for anybody right now, and you’re my guide. I have a responsibility to you. Most of the people we run into won’t buy that, but I’m a man of restraint.”

She couldn’t help the choke at that blatant exaggeration. Restraint. Hunter. Right.

He pulled her closer. Sarah couldn’t look at him. It was easier to deal with this when she didn’t have to see his face.

Hunter moved his hand over her back, soothing her. “Sandburg would probably say that some things are meant to happen, but not this. I don’t want a woman in my life right now. I didn’t want a guide, either.”

She cringed, and he felt it.

“Ah, hell, Tiger. I’m not going to trade you in. We’re bonded for life.”

Sarah lay quietly, listening to Hunter’s heart beating under her ear, a soothing lub-dub lub-dub. He smelled like evergreens and running water, a cool rich scent that eventually relaxed the knotted muscles in her stomach. She desperately wished that she was older; that she knew more about life, about sentinels, about anything. It was just so frustrating to try to keep up with him and to figure out how to help him.

Or how to help myself, she thought miserably. It was depressing to realize that she was the wuss of the century.

Hunter made a growling noise, and her attention shifted back to the man holding her. They lay there for a while until she finally was able to ease from him and sit up. She looked down at the man sprawled comfortably on the mat. He wasn’t self-conscious about his body or his personality. He was a man who knew his strengths and used them ruthlessly to his advantage, just as he understood his weaknesses and worked around them. If Hunter didn’t have such a rigid personal code of ethics he would have been a first class megalomaniac.

“I should get ready,” she said, trying to edge off the mat, but his hand on her arm stopped her. She tugged, but his grip didn’t loosen one iota. “Captain Hunter?”

“We still have time,” he said quietly, looking over at the pink and gold striations on the horizon, back lighting the mountain. Almost sunrise.

She was pulled back down to rest against him, the sentinel relaxing in the light bond as he purred with contentment.

Sarah remembered the times growing up when she and Mandy had stayed up late on weekends watching monster movies sprawled on a big quilt in the TV room, her father between them, both of them draped over him for security when the scary parts came on the screen. Curled close to her father, she had felt the love and protectiveness in him -- his determination to keep her safe.

Now, next to Hunter, she could feel a type of protectiveness, but it was different, more intense. This wasn’t affection, or love, or friendship; it was possession -- ownership with a very primitive edge. Scary, violent, wild and overwhelming. This wasn’t just the sentinel that made it that way, but the man himself.

Hunter rumbled something wordless, tucking her closer to him.

If she closed her eyes, Sarah could pretend she was safe at home. That everything would be okay again. A little self deceit for self preservation.

Hunter said nothing, eyes focused on the horizon. She wondered what he saw out there as they watched the sun finally take over the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah pulled her suit jacket on and brushed through her hair. It was getting a bit long in the bangs, so she’d have to call for to schedule a hair cut …she paused as realized that she couldn’t do that anymore. She couldn’t go shopping, to a movie or to the grocery store without her sentinel’s permission. She sat back on the bed, a bit depressed and still rattled by Hunter’s insomnia and the incident after their bonding.

He had scared her to death, and at the same time, made her feel about twelve and painfully naïve. She remembered the amusement in his eyes and voice and mentally cringed. Not only a wuss, but an idiot, she berated herself.

If it had been Mandy, she would have made some smart remark, turned it into a joke, laughed it off. Mandy would have probably yelled at him, taken some control, but not Sarah. She had panicked and promptly reinforced the fact that Hunter didn’t think she was capable of tying her own shoelaces, much less be his guide.

Mandy would have handled it better, she thought, and through the depression, felt a twinge of frustration that her sister had always been so confident, knew so much more about the world, and men, and …. Sarah stopped herself when she recognized her own anger. It wasn’t Mandy’s fault that the GDP had caught her. It wasn’t Mandy’s fault that she was at Rainier and Sarah might never be.

It wasn’t Mandy’s fault that Sarah had been born different.

Grabbing a tissue, Sarah wiped at her eyes and blew her nose. She couldn’t blame her family for wanting her to be safe, but now that all bets were off, and her destiny decided, Sarah couldn’t run away from her responsibilities. Nothing could be the same again. She had to do this on her own.

If this is what growing up is, Sarah thought as she crumpled up the tissue and threw it away, it sucks.

Hunter yelled from downstairs so she gathered her bag and headed down the steps. It was her first day back at IA since the kidnapping, and she felt a bit nervous. Samantha and Len Miller would be glad to see her, but everyone else would probably have been just as glad to have her disappear off the face of the earth. As her thoughts turned gloomy again, she mentally shook herself. It didn’t help anything.

Hunter glanced over as he drove. Sarah was looking out the window but not really seeing anything. His nightmare had taken him by surprise, but his guide tuning into his distress both comforted and surprised him.

Then there had been that moment when they both had woken after the bonding. It had amused him, to some degree, as he wasn’t used to any female quite so shy, but the ‘animal passions’ crack had definitely been out of line.

Some sentinels did take the bond in a carnal direction, with or without the guide’s consent, and that was what had led to groups like the GLA spreading propaganda about guide whores and slaves. More often, it was plain physical abuse by sentinels who, in Hunter’s estimation, should have been left to rot for taking advantage of empaths who couldn’t defend themselves because of their need for shielding.

Discipline doesn’t mean abuse. Hunter knew that discipline was the only thing that kept the military functioning seamlessly, a guiding principle for many different people carrying out a common goal. Yet the rigid protocols of the GDP, which he had followed all his life, seemed more and more askew as he got to know his guide.

Gary had been a textbook guide, always spot on with whatever protocol was called for at the time, but Gary hadn’t taken it to heart the way Sarah did. He hadn’t been scared and intimidated by the ritualistic behavior, especially in public.

Or maybe he had, and you just conveniently forgot it, Hunter thought bitterly. Then Gary had sacrificed his life for his sentinel, and left Hunter alone with his guilt and his memories. Hunter wasn’t sure whether he hated Gary for that.

Hunter looked over at Sarah. So damn young. Then Hunter stopped himself. She was learning and she hadn’t run, even when she had thought he was going to abuse her. Terror or dedication?

Hunter had reviewed the new GDP regulations, and found them to be reasonable. Ellison, of course, wanted to change the way the world ran. Guides and sentinels were equals, and should be treated that way. While Hunter noted Ellison’s social conscience, he knew that there would always be a territorial imperative in any sentinel-guide relationship. Yet after dealing with Sandburg the last few weeks, Hunter wasn’t exactly sure that Ellison was the one actually in charge.

I am, Hunter reassured himself. The sentinel protective instincts were always there, and he wouldn’t ever let his guide out of his reach long enough to even think about getting into a compromising situation. She’d never leave him -- he would ensure that through any means necessary.

Sarah, picking up on his troubled thoughts, shivered. He hadn’t meant to upset her, in fact, no other female of his acquaintance would have looked quite so spooked at a little harmless biological reaction. His blunt approach to things wasn’t exactly designed to reassure people, but she had calmed down. Still, it’s a screwed up world, Hunter, when a morning woody scares somebody half to death.

Hunter parked in his assigned slot at the precinct garage and Sarah clutched his jacket as they got on the elevator. Already the emotions of the building were crowding in. Any high-stress environment, like a hospital or police department, tended to batter her barriers relentlessly. Hunter tucked her to his side, his hand smoothing over head absently as he read through some memos.

When they walked through the glass door into the bullpen, all talking ceased and everyone turned to stare at Sarah. She felt horribly conspicuous and wanted to hide behind Hunter, but he kept her ahead of him, one hand on her shoulder.

“Hi, Sarah,” Miller got up to cross over to them. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

Lowering her barriers, she felt his concern, and then, more concern from others around them. A far cry from the hostility that had been plaguing her for the last three weeks. After glancing up at Hunter, she answered Miller.

“I’m fine. Thank you for helping him find me.” When she smiled, it was a revelation.

“He didn’t work solo, you know,” came a voice on their right, Bernie Clark, back from vacation and ready to assume his second-in-command duties at IA. “Nice to see you back, kid.”

Like little ripples, the others followed, most with awkward greetings and mumbles, most not meeting Hunter’s eyes, but genuinely concerned. Snow, of course, and a couple of others kept their distance. Not that Sarah even wanted to be approached by them, and their dark thoughts.

At the silent permission from Hunter, Sarah acknowledged and thanked the members of the IA team that had participated in her rescue. They seemed much more human now.

Sarah had been settled into Hunter’s office to help Samantha with another database conversion problem, when Miller and Clark approached Hunter.

“Captain?”

“Yes?” Hunter was already irritated by the sight of the small mountain of paper on his desk, but he kept his voice civil.

“Just wanted to tell you that we’re glad she’s safe. She’s a good kid.” Clark was taking his life in his hands trying to initiate a personal conversation with the Dark Side of the Force, but Miller knew it had to be said.

Hunter stared at both men, who waited to make sure the sentinel wasn’t going to go ballistic over their interest in his guide. “I appreciate your help, gentlemen,” he said finally, then withdrew to his office. Before the door shut, they could see Sarah reaching out to touch her sentinel’s arm, and how the big man relaxed into his chair.

“He’s so much better since he bonded,” Miller commented quietly. “You can actually almost talk to him now.”

“Yeah, but I still wouldn’t want to cross him,” Clark replied. “He’s the meanest SOB this department’s ever seen.”

“But not to her,” Miller pointed out, inwardly glad that the captain had proved to have a soft spot for his guide.

“No, not to her,” and missed completely the look of impotent fury on Snow’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter sipped his beer and watched his guide move around the kitchen. Sarah paused in her dinner preparations. She wasn’t at all sure of the emotions she was sensing from Hunter. Some anger -- but he was always angry about something. Impatience -- again, nothing new or different. But then...curiosity. Hunter was actually curious?

“After dinner, we can sit out on the patio. It’s a nice evening.”

Sarah felt her heart speed up. Something was wrong. What did he want?

Hunter moved behind her, letting his hand move over her back. “No hidden agendas. I’m not mad at you. We’re just going to sit outside and talk.”

Sarah let out her breath, but she was still wary. There was always an agenda. It just was a matter of what.

After dinner, Hunter pulled out two lounge chairs and set them side by side. Leading Sarah out, he settled her in one chair while he slouched down in the other. The chairs were angled so that they could see each other. For a time, they sat quietly, Hunter monitoring his guide’s vital signs until she finally calmed down.

“Pretty scary, this lounge chair sitting,” Hunter offered, dead pan.

Sarah’s eyebrows shot up, then she had to choke back a hysterical giggle. His humor, in the rare times it surfaced, was usually cutting and sarcastic. This was dry and mellow. She relaxed slightly.

“We’ve been bonded for a month, but it occurs to me that we don’t know very much about each other.” Hunter stared off into the distance at Mt. Rainier. “I don’t even know what you like to eat.”

“Why do you want to know?” Sarah asked softly, remembering their first few days together and his harsh pronouncement that her old life was over.

“You’re my guide -- I should know more about you. Especially since....” He cut off that thought abruptly, unwilling to voice his suspicion. Sandburg had shown him many things when they had bonded -- not the least of which was the profound trust and love Sandburg shared with Ellison. They were brothers, soul mates, best friends. That kind of connection for a sentinel and guide was rare. Hunter knew he didn’t have it in himself to be that open or trusting, but there had to be a reason that he had imprinted on Sarah. Sandburg had shown him that both he and Sarah had been part of the ancient clan, and their memories, or souls, were still there, tucked away.

Sarah wanted to know more about him, but he was just so intensely private. The fact that he wanted to know more about her seemed out of character for him. She had gotten used to certain behavior patterns from him; he was comfortingly consistent most of the time. Having him go off into left field like this troubled her.

“Let’s play a little game,” Hunter suggested blandly. “I’m going to ask you a question, and you answer, then you can ask me one. The only topics off-limits are my ex-wife and William Ellison.” He waited until she met his gaze.

Sarah hesitated, then asked, “What’s your favorite food?” There. That was safe.

“Pizza,” Hunter answered promptly. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Green.” She thought a moment. “What music do you like?”

“Jazz. Classic rock and roll. How about you?”

“Celtic. Alternative.” She really looked at him now, feeling braver. “What do you do for fun?”

“I like to read. I like sports.”

“I like to read,” Sarah said softly, and her body relaxed back in the chair. She mulled some more questions in her head.

“What were you hoping to do after graduation?”

The blunt question startled Sarah. “I wanted...I wanted to major in history.” She didn’t meet Hunter’s eyes. That was a raw wound - along with her family. She changed the subject. “Why do you hate Detective Ellison?”

“I don’t,” Hunter said matter of factly. “I’m not exactly fond of him, but he’s tolerable, even as Sentinel Prime.”

“What about Blair?” she asked, pushing in the second question before he could think of his next one.

“He’s tolerable,” Hunter repeated, but his voice warmed slightly. He would never admit to feeling anything other than the Shield’s duty toward the Guide Prime. It was safer that way.

Sarah gathered up her courage. “Will...will you ever let me see my family?”

Hunter’s face darkened, but he kept his voice even. “When I get over what they did, we’ll discuss it. Not before then.” His tone indicated that might not happen until the next millennium.

She withdrew from his anger, and for a few minutes they were silent. The air was cooling off as the sun went down.

“Why are you still afraid of me?” Hunter’s eyes were distant.

There were so many reasons: his anger, his inflexibility, his mysterious past, but ultimately, she went with the only answer she had: “I don’t know.”

They stayed outside until it grew dark, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Blair walked up to the door, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He had been appointed babysitter for Sarah today. Hunter was going to be in court and felt it would be better for his guide to avoid the emotional upheaval of this particular case. So Blair was keeping Sarah with him for the day -- with the full blessing of the Shield. Life certainly took some strange turns and twists.

Hunter opened the door in mid-knock, and Blair jumped a bit. Those sentinel reflexes still surprised him. “Morning, Sandburg,” Hunter grunted.

“Good morning,” Blair said, smiling slightly. It had only been a week since the kidnapping, and Blair’s facial bruises had faded to a yellow-brown. The fact that Blair had asked Hunter to inflict them didn’t make them any less significant.

Hunter stepped back, allowing Blair to enter. As Blair walked past the taller man, he instinctively stilled. The Shield brushed a hand over his neck, barely touching him, but it was definitely a possessive gesture -- Shield guarding Guide Prime.

Hunter grunted again and let Sandburg move into the kitchen where Sarah was eating a bowl of cereal.

“Hi Sarah,” Blair said, sliding onto the high kitchen stool next to her, leaning his elbows on the counter.

She hastily chewed and swallowed. “Good morning, Mr. Sandburg.”

“Blair,” he said. “I think it’s okay for you to call me by my first name.”

She nodded, still spooning cereal in. Late again.

Blair looked down at the bowl, then at the cereal box sitting on the counter. “Frosted Flakes?” He was grinning at her. “Great, huh?” He tapped the cartoon character on the box, then turned his gaze at the sentinel sipping his coffee and reading the paper at the dining room table not ten feet away.

Sarah groaned at the pun, causing her sentinel to look up with narrowed eyes before he shook his head at the foibles of youth and went back to his paper..

“Shhh,” she hissed. “It’s been my favorite cereal ever since I was little.”

“And he never gave you grief about it?” Blair asked, his lips twitching.

“He eats Wheaties, when he eats cereal.” She looked over at him, frowning slightly. One English muffin wasn’t a decent breakfast, but at least he ate something.

“Froot Loops,” Blair whispered conspiratorially. “Jim likes Froot Loops, straight out of the box. Calories and additives be damned.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, then she giggled.

This time, Hunter looked up, nearly severing Sandburg in two with his eyes. “Isn’t it time for you two to be on your way?”

“Hey, I’m ready,” Blair said easily, noting how Sarah tensed.

Hunter could hear his guide’s heart rate increase, but ignored it. He got up and walked over to Sarah and brushed over her hair, his touch exquisitely gentle, and she slowly calmed. He rinsed out his coffee mug while she ran upstairs to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Hunter got his briefcase and jacket. “I should be home by six, Sandburg. Can you drop her off?”

“No problem,” Blair said, getting off the stool and jiggling his car keys. “My last student conference is at four thirty, so I can run her home after that.” He met Hunter’s eyes without flinching.

“Keep an eye on her,” Hunter ordered, but the meaning was clear: Let her out of your sight and I’ll kill you. Metaphorically speaking.

“Gotcha,” Blair said, pushing the hair back from his face. Sarah reappeared, tugging a jacket on over her T-shirt.

“Remember what I said last night, Sarah,” Hunter admonished, and Blair watched as Sarah tensed again, her expression wary.

“Yes, Captain Hunter.”

“See you later.” With that, Blair ushered Sarah out the door.

Sarah sat quietly in the passenger seat, lost in thought.

“Quarter for them,” Blair said.

“Huh?” Then she flushed. “Sorry.”

“Must be pretty deep thoughts,” Blair said, turning onto the main road toward Rainier University.

“Just thinking about Pop and Mandy,” she said glumly. Sarah was quiet for a few minutes, then, “I miss them.” She sounded just this side of tears.

“Hey, hey, what brought all this on this morning? You guys have a fight last night?” Blair reached out to pat her head, feeling her misery.

As if Hunter would tolerate having any of his wishes challenged. Sarah rubbed at her eyes. “I just want to talk to them, just for a little bit. Even a phone call would be okay. But he said no. He told me I’d better not try to contact them while I’m with you.”

Typical Hunter -- threats and intimidation. Sarah had worked up the courage to ask for something, only to have Hunter shoot her down. Blair sighed, knowing just how effective Hunter’s intimidation tactics were.

“They have a suspended sentence, Sarah. If they violate the agreement terms, then...”

“They go to jail. I know.” Sarah’s voice was dull.

“Sentinels are complicated,” Blair said quietly. “Those primitive instincts can cause major problems in modern society, but it’s all still designed to keep you both safe. The important thing is that you’re okay and Hunter’s okay. The rest will sort itself out eventually. You’ll see your family again -- I’m sure of it.”

Sarah leaned back in the seat. “Mr. Sandburg -- Blair -- are you ever scared?” She tugged at her jacket zipper fretfully.

“Every moment of every day,” Blair answered honestly, and Sarah’s eyes met his in shock.

Blair gave her a small smile. “It’s a matter of degree. There are some things that scare me no matter what. Heights; small, dark places; guns. Then there are things that scare me in certain circumstances: loud voices, some...reminders from the correction facility.” Blair didn’t elaborate on that. “It just depends on the situation. We all have fears that we live with.”

“Are you scared of Detective Ellison?” The question was hesitant.

“No,” Blair said with such certainty and affection that Sarah blinked. “That’s not to say he didn’t scare me at the beginning, but that was my problem, not his. I had some issues I had to work through.” The Blair reached out to brush Sarah’s cheek. “Are you still afraid of Hunter?”

“Sometimes.” Sarah looked down at the floorboard. “Well, most times. He just gets so angry, and I don’t always know what to do. He was so mad last night when he told me to stay away from Mandy if I ran into her at Rainier.”

Blair had experienced the turmoil in Hunter’s mind during their bonding, and had seen things that he couldn’t share with Sarah. Guide Prime and Shield now knew far too much about each other for comfort. Blair couldn’t break that confidence, not even for Sarah’s sake.

She looked back up at Blair. “Are you scared of him?”

“I was,” Blair admitted. “He’s pretty overwhelming. Not now, though.”

“What changed?” Sarah needed to know.

“Leap of faith,” Blair said mysteriously, then smiled at her confusion. “You’ll get there. Look how much better things are already.”

Sarah still didn’t know exactly what Blair meant, but took comfort from it. Blair always seemed to know what would eventually come about.

“We okay?” he asked as they pulled into the parking lot behind Hargrove Hall.

She nodded, and a radiant smile lit up his face. For the first time, Sarah really looked at him as a man, and thought him beautiful.

They walked up to his office and Blair motioned for her to sit down while he shuffled through paperwork. “Okay, I’ve got a nine a.m. lecture, followed by a student study session. Lunch break from eleven-thirty to one. Then some research in the library and then student sessions after that.”

Sarah nodded. It would be a long day sitting in his little office.

After some intense paper shuffling, Blair emerged triumphant with his lecture notes. “Okay, you ready?”

Sarah sat there and stared at him.

“You mean you’d rather sit here than listen to me lecture on comparative coming of age rituals in Polynesian micro-societies? Don’t think so.” Blair laughed and cheerfully dragged her out the door.

When they entered the lecture hall, only a couple of students were already there. She was nervous. What if her barriers failed? What if they found out she wasn’t really a student?

“Just have a seat right there, Sarah,” Blair said softly, indicating a front row seat next to the windows. He looked up as Alan, captain of the soccer team and now anthropology major, came in. “This is Alan, one of my students. Alan, this is Sarah Freeman, a friend of mine who wanted to sit in on a couple of classes.”

Alan reached out to shake her hand, and the girl hesitated before clasping his briefly. Then Alan knew: another guide. Mr. Sandburg just looked over Sarah’s head, silently telegraphing a message.

“Nice to meet you, Sarah,” the jock said and sat down next to her, effectively blocking her from the other students.

Sarah stole a look at the tall young man. He didn’t radiate any hostile emotions, in fact, he seemed to have both respect and affection for his professor.

“He’s really a good teacher,” Alan said. “He knows a lot of stuff.”

Sarah smiled shyly and focused on Blair, who was scribbling something on the board. The lecture hall slowly filled, and she tentatively lowered her barriers. There were one or two negative vibes, but mostly it was just the usual early morning student ambience.

Alan was right. Blair Sandburg was a dynamic lecturer. He was full of fascinating facts and stories, lots of humor and had that deep compelling voice. The lecture was over far too quickly, and Blair answered questions at the lectern while Sarah waited near the windows. Alan stood casually at her side, keeping the others away from her.

Blair smiled at Alan. His student was a God-send.

“Ready?” Blair asked, holding out his hand. “Thanks, Alan,” he called over his shoulder, catching Alan’s wave.

Sarah grasped his hand gratefully as he led her to another lecture room where he had a short study session with several students. She sat quietly at his side after he introduced her and watched how Blair explained the concepts the students were having trouble with.

This is what I want, she thought. I want to learn everything.

Blair finished the session, and then mimed eating from across the room. Sarah nodded back -- she was hungry. They walked to the cafeteria, when a young man shoved into Blair, almost knocking him down the steps.

“No guides allowed,” the young man sneered. “Go home and kneel at your sentinel’s feet, you freak.”

Blair stood straight, masking his anger. The insults and gestures still occurred occasionally, despite the fact that he had been here over six months. The student’s three buddies had come to join him, surrounding Blair and Sarah.

“This your little girlfriend, Guide? She know you’re a freak?”

“Hey, maybe she gets off from him being on a leash.”

“Hey, Guide, does your sentinel do the two of you at the same time?”

Sarah kept her hand on Blair’s arm, refusing to let him go even when he tried to push her behind him for safety. They hadn’t done anything violent, but Blair wasn’t taking any chances. Dark Guide was ready.

Sarah’s eyes widened as she felt the Other emerge. That’s not Blair.

The young men kept up the insults, freely including Sarah. It was just like when her classmates had surrounded her at the mall -- all hateful, negative emotion. Then suddenly, they scattered. She looked around to see a GDP officer approach them.

“Oh no,” she whispered, wanting to flee, but she couldn’t leave Blair.

“Is there a problem here?” Blair looked up to see Lieutenant Harris, a concerned expression on his face. “Those kids give you a hard time?”

“No, just the usual crap, Lieutenant.” Blair said. “But thanks for asking.” Blair didn’t kneel, and it was clear the GDP officer didn’t expect it.

Harris stared at the bruises on Blair’s face. “You ran into a door, right?” His tone indicated he didn’t believe that for an instant.

“Nah, got this on a case,” Blair said truthfully. “Didn’t duck quick enough.”

Harris stared curiously at Sarah, who stood behind Blair. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, if you’re sure....” Harris trailed off, disturbed by the students’ behavior and feeling very protective of the young guide.

“We’re fine, Lieutenant.” Blair smiled reassuringly.

“Take care of yourself, Sandburg,” Harris said, and patted Blair on the shoulder before moving off. Sarah wasn’t the only one flabbergasted by the little display. A small crowd had gathered and was whispering, speculating why a GDP officer would defer to a guide.

“Let’s take a run off campus,” Blair suggested. “We’re getting a little conspicuous.”

Sarah followed him to the parking lot. The demonstration of prejudice against guides was ugly, but not unexpected. The support from the GDP, though....

“It’s kinda complicated,” Blair said softly. “Lieutenant Harris feels responsible for me on campus.”

Sarah had a million questions, but there was one that topped everything else. “Who was he?”

“Who?” Blair asked as they got into his car.

“The other,” she said.

Blair stared at her, then his eyes crinkled with amusement. “It’s a long story -- I’ll give you the highlights over lunch.”

They settled in the small Thai restaurant and placed their orders. The place was blessedly quiet, which was soothing to both empaths.

Blair leaned forward as Sarah sipped her soft drink. She could get lost in those eyes, full of pain and secrets.

“The ancient clans of sentinels and guides have a way of popping up from time to time. Once upon a time, there was a Dark Sentinel who was searching for a Dark Guide....”

Sarah ate mechanically, but concentrated intently on what Blair was telling her.

“So, Dark Guide is you, Dark Sentinel is Detective Ellison?”

“Part of us, at any rate. Past life, tribal memory -- it’s a bit convoluted. I have memories that surface that aren’t mine -- not mine present day, I mean -- and dreams -- I have plenty of those.”

“Do you believe? Really believe it?”

“Oh, yes,” Blair smiled.

“Was I there?’ she asked finally. “Was Captain Hunter?”

“Yes, you both were, but that’s another story for another time.”

“But I...” she stopped abruptly at Blair’s look of mild censure. She wanted to know more.

Blair reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. It’s not time yet.

But I need to know. I need to know what to do. Her frustration and lingering uncertainty echoed through their link.

You already know, Sarah.

I don’t want to be afraid any more.

Then accept what you are. The guide has the power.

Their wordless conversation surprised Sarah, but Blair’s small smile showed her that the Guide Prime still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

She nodded, but Blair felt the small blip of despair in the girl. She wanted so badly to study -- and those dreams had died hard and painfully. She wanted to gain control of her life, but her sentinel wouldn’t let her. She needed something to build up her self-confidence -- something to let out the bright, interesting young woman inside that timid shell.

“We have another stop to make before we head back,” Blair said as he paid the bill, waving aside Sarah’s offer to split the check. It made him happy, though, that Hunter was providing her with an allowance.

“Where?’ she asked as they headed back to the car.

“You’ll see,” he twinkled at her, steering toward the area of town that held a variety of small shops and funky boutiques.

They parked in front of a small store. The sign was faded, but still colorful. Esoteric Trivia. They stepped inside through a beaded curtain and the scent of incense and a tinkling of wind chimes was pleasantly mixed with some soothing new age music being played on the loudspeaker. It was a warm, peaceful place.

Sarah let herself be led to the counter where Blair looked through the glass case, searching for something. Finally he spotted what he was looking for.

The saleslady smiled at the handsome young man. “Can I help you?”

“That pendant -- may I see that?” Blair pointed to a roughly oval shaped stone, yellowish brown and about an inch in diameter in a simple silver setting.

“Certainly. For you?” she asked as Blair held the stone in his hand, closing his eyes as he tuned into it. She waited - this was not just some tourist looking for pretty rocks. He knew what he wanted. His tribal necklace should have been the first clue.

Blair opened his eyes again. “No, for her,” and gently drew Sarah forward. “Hold this, Sarah. Put it in your left hand, and tell me what you feel.”

She took it gingerly, then almost dropped it. “It’s warm. I can feel it humming.” Her eyes were so wide that Blair chuckled.

“It’s not going to bite you, Sarah. Just let it sit in your hand.”

As she did, she saw the wolf and tabby sitting by the door, watching her, approving. Blair leaned over her shoulder as he spied them.

“They think it’s right. Do you?”

“Right?” she asked, unconsciously rubbing her fingers over the stone. It felt good.

“Is it right?” he repeated, his eyes asking more.

“Yes,” she finally whispered.

“We’ll take it. Can you put it on a short silver chain?” Blair handed the pendant back to the saleswoman, who nodded as she polished it and threaded a choker chain through the mounting.

Blair took back the necklace and placed it around Sarah’s neck. It sat right in the hollow of her throat. “Perfect,” he announced.

“What is it?” she asked, still unnerved by the humming she felt from the stone.

“This stone energizes a woman's self-confidence and repels negativity. It grants the wearer courage, will, strength and grace.” Blair said softly, his hand settling on her face, willing Sarah to believe in herself. “It’s called tiger eye.”

Sarah looked back at him, her hand coming up to cover his. The saleswoman stared at them. She wasn’t sure exactly what the connection was between the two young people, but it was a powerful one. Lovers? Somehow, she didn’t think so. Siblings? Maybe, though they looked nothing alike.

Sarah felt Dark Guide looking into her head and heart, and finding more than Sarah there. Finally, he stepped back as the saleswoman cleared her throat discreetly.

Blair paid for the necklace and waved aside Sarah’s protests. She looked down to see the tabby and wolf rubbing against her legs, then circling to Blair.

She grasped his arm. Thank you.

He smiled and took her by the hand as he led her out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Blair’s office, Sarah was still musing over the stone when Blair’s cell phone rang and he answered, his face scrunching into a frown as he continued to listen. “Yeah, Jim, I hear you. We’ll be careful. What? Oh, that. Just some disgruntled students who....” Blair trailed off, wincing at the pithy reply from his sentinel. “Lieutenant Harris took care of it. He called you, right?” Blair sighed as his sentinel, who could go into BP mode over the telephone, continued to add warnings and advice. “Yeah, man, I promise. We’ll stay here. I have some student sessions and some research time at the library.” Blair sighed again as he hung up.

“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked.

“There’s been an attack on a student just off campus - he was robbed at gunpoint, roughed up a bit. Jim wanted to make sure we stick together. And of course he found about those students....” Blair sighed again, even more heavily.

The phone rang again. “Yeah, Jim, what?” Small pause. “Oh, Hunter, you sound just like him.” Whatever Hunter said caused Blair to pull the phone away from his ear with a flinch. “Sorry. What can I do for you? Yeah, Jim called about that.” Blair leaned on the edge of his desk, rolling his eyes. “And that, too. No, the students didn’t do anything....” Another pause for a sentinel lecture. “Okay, I’ll meet you at your house at 5:30. No problem. Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” This time Blair just grimaced as he hung up. “Man, I keep forgetting how autocratic he is.”

Sarah hovered anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just got my orders from the Shield,” Blair said, his sense of humor returning. “Let me show you a magical and wondrous place....” Blair led Sarah to the library, and for a time, they forgot about outside threats.

Sarah looked around the library with its high-domed ceiling and case after case of books, some freshly printed, some delightfully old and musty. It was quiet, almost like a church. Blair led her to a small room and picked up some old documents and books stacked behind the special collections desk. There were manuscripts there that looked hundreds of years old.

“These are historical accounts of sentinels and guides,” Blair said reverently as he ran his hand over the old paper. “I’m doing my thesis on dark sentinels. There isn’t much information about them, but since Rainier is the site of the Sentinel Institute, the library here has almost all relevant documents from around the world. The person who wrote this has been gone for over two hundred years -- and we’re reading it today.”

Sarah reached out hesitantly and touched the yellowed paper. “It’s like speaking to the dead.” She traced the faded ink with a respect that Blair admired.

“What do you want to study, Sarah?” Blair asked.

“I wanted to major in history.” She felt the old ache again. “I guess I was just dreaming.” She looked down at the table, frustrated and upset.

“Don’t ever give up your dreams, Sarah. Jim gave mine back to me.”

Sarah looked at him and her vision blurred a bit, but Blair tactfully distracted her. “I’m looking for any accounts of clan social structure. Part of my thesis is how dark sentinels interacted with their clan and with outsiders -- social hierarchy, clan roles and so on. You want to help me with this?”

“Me?” Sarah asked, but the gleam of excitement was impossible to miss.

“I can always use a research assistant,” Blair said. “I’ve got some books I’d like you to read to bring you up to speed on sentinels and guides, but most of what I do is just sift through documents to pick out the little grains of truth.”

“I don’t know if I....” Sarah wasn’t sure if she would be allowed to help Blair.

“I don’t think Hunter will mind,” Blair reassured her as he pushed several documents toward her. “Why don’t you go through these and let me know what you think. I can’t possibly go through all this on my own; there aren’t enough hours in the day.”

Sarah took the papers and began to read. Blair watched her concentrate on the faded script as she absently reached for a pen and began scribbling notes on some blank paper Blair had placed on the large table.

Oh, yes, I think we’re finally getting to see the real Sarah. Blair smiled and went back to his own stack of material. They passed the next two hours in companionable silence.

When Blair pulled into Hunter’s driveway at 5:40 PM, Jim’s truck was parked on the street. Surprise, surprise. Blair got out and opened Sarah’s door for her. She got out and the two guides headed for the front door.

“Bet you they’re both in BP overdrive,” Blair sighed. “Probably been pacing for the last twenty minutes. Brace yourself, kiddo.”

The door opened, and two sentinels caught hold of their respective guides, checking them out and making sure they weren’t injured. Blair looked over at Sarah, she looked back and suddenly they both snickered.

“What?” Jim demanded, eyes narrowed.

“Something funny here, Sandburg?” Hunter growled.

“Nope. Not a thing,” Blair said innocently, but Hunter didn’t trust that look.

“I want a full report,” Jim ordered as he led Blair over to the dining room table. Blair sighed as he sat down. Jim was in BP mode, and nothing was going to stop him from finding out every last grisly detail.

Hunter was still standing in the entry way, his hand moving over Sarah’s neck, leaning in to scent her. He noticed the necklace and his eyes narrowed. ‘What’s this?”

“Blair gave it to me,” Sarah said, biting her lip. “He said...he said it’s to help me.”

Hunter touched the pendant, sentinel senses picking up the minute vibration of the stone. “What is it?” he asked, but his voice was softer now. There was something familiar about it....

“It’s supposed to help me focus -- it’s tiger eye.” She held her breath as Hunter touched the stone again, his eyes distant, almost zoning, then he snapped back. They stared at each other, then Sarah looked away, unnerved by the intensity.

Hunter gave her one of his inscrutable looks, then took her by the arm and led her to the table. “From the top,” he ordered both Blair and Sarah, wanting to know exactly what had transpired with the students and the GDP.

Blair touched Jim’s arm, and Sarah reached for Hunter’s, and both guides gave their account of the student harassment. After a brief admonishment of keeping safe, Jim and Blair left, leaving Sarah in the kitchen contemplating the menu. Spaghetti - that would be quick. She pulled out the ground beef and began browning it, adding only a pinch of salt. Spices tended to cause Hunter major problems, so she usually just added them to her own serving after cooking.

She was well into dinner preparations when she noticed that Hunter still stood in the kitchen doorway, tracking her movements. He didn’t say anything, and he was watching her intently. It made her nervous. “Sentinel?”

“We’re off the next two days. After all that’s happened, you need to learn some self defense. We’ll go over some things.”

Sarah paused in stirring the sauce. “I apologize, Sentinel. I tried to get away from them....”

Hunter let out an angry sigh. “The kidnapping wasn’t your fault, and I don’t expect you to be able to ward off the bad guys with martial arts. All I want to do is to make sure you learn a little about protecting yourself. You’re small, so you have to learn how to use leverage to make up for it.”

Sarah resumed stirring. She had hated the feeling of total helplessness when the man with Mandy had grabbed her. “I’m not a jock,” she said quietly. “Pop never let me participate in sports, or any clubs. They might have found out...about me.”

Hunter considered that. In many ways, his guide had been sheltered from real life. In his bid to try to keep her from the GDP, Max Freeman had locked Sarah away from normal teenage experiences, and had made her dependent. It was like religious fanaticism -- or brainwashing. Wasn’t that abuse, in a different way?

“We’ll work on it. I work out every day because of my job.” He gestured vaguely at the exercise equipment in the small room off the living room. “I like to run. You’ll come with me.” He had deferred his runs the last few weeks because of the bonding and subsequent events, but he had still used the exercise equipment. Even as a captain, Hunter felt duty-bound to stay in shape. Now even more so: he had a guide to protect.

“Running?” Sarah said dubiously.

“This isn’t boot camp, Sarah,” Hunter said with just a trace of humor. “I’m not expecting you to run marathons. This is just staying physically fit.”

Sarah turned to look at him doubtfully.

“Trust me.” The simple request was quite serious.

Sarah locked eyes with him, then nodded. The tiger purred, and the sentinel relaxed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter was up early Saturday, and woke Sarah, who just blinked for several seconds. “Time to go running. You have a jogging outfit?”

She shook her head. “I have sweat pants.” She was sleepy, but pulled herself up to get up and rummage in the drawer. It was too early to contemplate exercise.

“That’ll work. Meet me downstairs in five minutes.”

Sarah wasn’t looking forward to this at all. She pulled on a t-shirt and the pants, adding cotton socks and her tennis shoes. She met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’ll jog today -- easy pace,” Hunter announced. He was dressed in shorts and a Cascade PD t-shirt, expensive looking running shoes on his feet. He was obviously a serious athlete.

As they went out the door, Hunter admonished, “Stay on the inside of the sidewalk.” The sentinel was still on watch.

They started out and Sarah gamely kept up. After about fifteen minutes, his guide’s breathing grew a little harsher. Her heart rate was up - but not dangerously so. He slowed his pace, and she pressed on. Her muscles were starting to cramp, but she kept on. She couldn’t fail.

Hunter spent the next ten minutes watching his guide from the corner of his eye. She was tiring; he could hear her heart accelerate. But the damn kid kept going. She seemed afraid to stop, and Hunter realized that she thought it was a test.

“Okay, that’s enough for one day,” he said. “Let’s head home.” He slowed to a walk and she gratefully followed suit. She was so out of breath that all she wanted to do was drape herself over the nearest shrub and just lie there.

“This is supposed to be enjoyable,” Hunter said conversationally. “An early morning run is invigorating.”

Sarah stared up at him through her sweaty bangs. Her lungs were still burning. Enjoyable? This?

Hunter hid his smile. She looked...irritated.

Progress.

“Give it a couple of weeks. You’ll be amazed at the difference.”

~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon found Hunter out in the back yard explaining more self defense moves to Sarah. She looked over to see Mr. Randall from next door step out on his patio and freeze. The man scurried back in the house at one look from Hunter.

“Idiot,” Hunter said, without heat. He turned his attention back to Sarah. “Okay, let’s try going through that maneuver.”

Sarah knew she could never match his strength or weight, but she was quick, and doggedly let herself be ‘thrown’ again and again. Never once did Hunter actually let her hit the ground with any force. Finally, after paying close attention to his instructions and watching how he moved, she succeeded in twisting herself so that Hunter lost his balance and went down.

She stared at him, horrified. “Sentinel, I....”

Hunter rolled to his feet effortlessly. “Next time, move a little more to the side. It’ll give you better clearance.” He wasn’t angry; in fact, he looked pleased.

“I...was that okay?” Sarah still wasn’t sure.

“Not bad,” Hunter growled, but his eyes were almost smiling. “You up for a few more?”

“Yes,” Sarah said, and when they met eyes, she could feel the connection humming.

After dinner, Sarah hauled out the books Blair had given her. She had Burton’s text plus several other books she would have to wade through before she knew what Blair was looking for. But it was a real research project of historical significance. Her heart sped up just slightly in anticipation as she set the books on the dining room table.

“What’s all this?” Hunter grunted as he finished his after-dinner cup of coffee.

“Sentinel reference texts,” Sarah said, her pen scribbling furiously in a notebook.

“More homework from Sandburg?” Hunter reached out and sifted through the book stack; he’d read most of them at one time or another.

“Not exactly,” Sarah said evasively. She certainly didn’t have Blair’s talent for obfuscation.

The tint of uncertainty in her voice made Hunter narrow his eyes. “Then what is it -- exactly?”

“Blair’s thesis. He’s working on sentinel clan structure and interpersonal dynamics, and he thought I could help with the research. See -- he’s got so much to do and read, and he thought if I could help him sort through documents, he’d get done quicker, and it would only be when you don’t need me, so maybe I could....” Sarah’s words were almost tripping themselves in her haste to convince her sentinel.

“Uh huh. PhD dissertation. And Sandburg can’t possibly do it without you.” The sarcasm was light, but still pointed.

Sarah drew in a deep breath. She touched the stone at her neck with nervous fingers.

Blair’s voice echoed in her head. The guide has the power.

“I really want to do this, Captain Hunter. I promise not to let it interfere with your job.” Confident words, but the effect was marred by the slight tremor in her voice, and the pulse pounding in her throat.

Hunter paused - he had several options. He could say what popped first in his head -- a firm, unequivocal ‘no.’ He didn’t want his guide even thinking of an academic future. He wasn’t Jim Ellison, indulgent to a fault.

Or he could put her off with vague promises of someday, which would pacify her for now, but would keep her hopes up unfairly. He had no trouble manipulating the truth to suit his needs, but she didn’t deserve that.

Or you could say yes. It’s not like she ever asked you for anything except her family. The little voice was pushing his guilt button with annoying accuracy. It was, of course, the least attractive option.

“Why would you even want to do this?”

Sarah frantically grasped for a convincing argument: academics, research, contribution to society, but in the end, she opted for the truth. “Because I can help, and learn.”

“Your job is to be my guide. Tell me just how this will make you a better guide.” Hunter’s voice was cutting.

Sarah nearly cringed at the tone. Part of her wanted to back off and forget this whole conversation, but something else inside her urged her on.

Accept what you are.

“I’m learning to be a guide, but Blair says we can learn a lot from the past.”

“So you think by reading a bunch of manuscripts by some weirdo anthropologists is going to make you a sentinel expert?”

He was looming over her the way he did the people he interviewed in his IA investigations. “No, but it’ll help me help you.” She closed her eyes, her heart hammering away at the risk she was taking.

Hunter contemplated that for a long agonizing minute. Then -- “All right.” He almost snarled the words.

Sarah opened her eyes. She nearly fell off her chair in shock. He had agreed? “Captain Hunter, I....”

“As long as you don’t neglect your guide duties, I’ll allow you to spend some time with Sandburg and his pet project.” He sounded calm, but his jaw was clenched. He was seething just at the thought of her devoting her attention to anything else. Anyone else.

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. “I promise that I’ll....”

Hunter cut her off. “I said it’s okay. I’m going to review some files.” He turned to walk away, but Sarah reached out, catching him by surprise.

She held onto his wrist almost desperately. She had to make him understand. She wasn’t abandoning him or betraying him.

Hunter opened the link, and immediately calmed despite her anxiety. She watched as his posture relaxed bit by bit. Then Hunter gently disengaged from her grip, and Sarah felt the oddest sensation of loss.

He walked over to the living room and picked up his briefcase and returned to sit down at the other end of the table. Pulling out the files, he began skimming over the pending cases.

Sarah watched him covertly, her mind skittering in a dozen different directions. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even upset anymore. Confused, she stared blankly at the page in front of her.

“You have to turn the pages to read, Sarah,” he said quietly, and when she looked up, he was nose deep in his case reports.

Sarah stared for a few more seconds, then got back to Burton. The silence that settled between them was a bridge -- not a barrier.

~~~~~~~~

“We have an interview today,” Hunter announced. Sarah was eating her usual bowl of cereal, and when Hunter caught sight of the box, she hastily shoved it to one side. “It’s going to be a bad one.”

Sarah winced. Sullivan, the hapless man who had sunk to illegal drug trade to try to finance an experimental cancer treatment for his daughter that the insurance company refused to pay for. He had committed a crime, but with the best intentions. Now he was suspended and under IA investigation.

“This is a charged situation, and there’s going to be emotional fallout.” Hunter didn’t sound upset over the prospect.

Sarah gnawed on her lower lip. Her barriers would take a beating today. She finished her cereal and rinsed out her bowl. She went upstairs to brush her teeth and hair while Hunter flipped through his file folders and carefully packed his briefcase.

Hunter didn’t say much as he drove them to the office. When they entered, the room grew quieter. Everyone there knew what Sullivan had done was wrong, but no one had the heart to blame him for his desperate last attempt to save his child.

Rafe and Brown were there, hanging out. Several officers from different divisions congregated in the bullpen and the hallway, each one of them trying to show support. Sullivan’s captain had placed him on suspension right after Sarah’s rescue, and Hunter had decided to take the interview himself. The suspicion his own men, much less the other cops, viewed Hunter with was upsetting to Sarah. They weren’t so much angry as they were scared; Hunter took no prisoners and his judgment was absolute.

Hunter moved through the bullpen, Sarah clutching at his jacket. Miller managed a small smile for her, and she nodded, not daring to say anything while the atmosphere was so heavy.

Hunter walked into his office with a curt “Good morning” for Samantha. He deposited his briefcase on the desk and opened it to extract the necessary files. Picking up his recorder, he nodded to Sarah, who latched herself onto him as they went to the interview room.

Sullivan, a compact wide-shouldered man with prematurely salt and pepper hair, sat nervously at the table, his advocate beside him.

“Officer Sullivan, I’m Captain Hunter with Internal Affairs, and this is Sarah. I have some questions for you.” Hunter set down the recorder after turning it on. He and Sarah sat down opposite the man.

“What happened on the day Detective Rafe shot Officer Smith?”

Sullivan was sweating. His voice had a wobble to it as he recounted the events of the day, which pretty much corroborated what Rafe had told him.

Hunter continued his questioning, focusing on the shooting and its aftermath before going to the meat of the interview. It was a standard technique: get the man more comfortable, then strike.

“Officer Sullivan, why were you at the scene to begin with? This was a vice undercover operation.”

“Uh -- I just happened to be driving by when I saw Smith and wondered what he was doing, so I stopped to check on him.” Sullivan’ heart was racing as he lied.

“I see. You knew Officer Smith worked undercover, yet when you saw him, something made you think you needed to blow his cover.” Hunter’s voice held just a trace of mockery.

“Yeah, I thought he might be in trouble, so I needed to check on him.” Sullivan was squirming as he recounted the story everyone, including Smith, had told him to use. From the way the IA captain watched him, Sullivan was sure the man wasn’t buying it.

“Tell me more about what happened next,” Hunter said, and settled back to listen to the awkward tale. After several rambling minutes of nervous speech, Sullivan finally stopped.

“So, you were simply being a good Samaritan.” Hunter said levelly, monitoring the man’s vital signs. Sullivan couldn’t lie worth a damn. The story he was concocting sounded like a bad TV movie.

“Yeah, I just needed to make sure they were okay, you know? Cops need to protect each other.”

“But to what point, Officer Sullivan? Do they lie? Do they withhold evidence? Do they commit crimes?”

Sullivan was shifting in his chair restlessly. He knew that Captain Hunter was a sentinel -- knew that the man could read his body better than any lie detector -- and he knew that this man would never deviate from the rules. Sullivan was scared to death.

Hunter kept up some innocuous questions, neatly pointing out inconsistencies and contradictions in Sullivan’ story until the man was so rattled that he finally stopped answering.

“Sullivan, why don’t you stop wasting my time. You were dealing. I know it, and you know it. Admit it, and we’ll move on.”

“You don’t understand,” the man choked. “I wasn’t....”

“What? Somebody held a gun to your head and told you to deal? You were dirty and you got caught. Now you’re making excuses?” Hunter got up and moved around to the man. The aggression level was rising. Sarah wanted to reach for him, but stopped when Hunter glared at her.

The advocate frowned at Hunter and whispered to Sullivan who pulled himself together.

“You’re a dirty cop. Because of your little deal, Smith almost was killed. Rafe went through inquiry. Why the hell should anybody care why you did it?” It was merciless and cruel, and calculated to push Sullivan over the edge. “You’re a crook, plain and simple.”

“No! I’m not like that! I....”

“You played for sympathy from your fellow cops with your tale of woe, and thought all would be forgiven. Well, it won’t be. You committed a crime, Officer Sullivan, and I can prove it.”

Sarah was growing more and more distressed as the anger and terror coming off the man started beating at her barriers. Couldn’t Hunter feel it?

“I had to do it!” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Sullivan lost control. Ignoring his advocate, he grabbed the table edge. “My daughter - she’s dying. This is the only chance. You can’t stand there and tell me you wouldn’t do that for your kid!”

Hunter curled his upper lip. “What I would do or not do isn’t up for speculation. This is about you.”

“Captain Hunter, surely we can come to some agreement. As you can see, Officer Sullivan is under a lot of stress and susceptible to making poor judgments because of it.” The advocate’s oily attempt to smooth things over was met with a snarl.

“Officer Sullivan is a thief and a liar. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he played the odds that he wouldn’t get caught. He was caught, and now he has to pay for it.” Hunter leaned into the man. “You might as well sign on the dotted line, Sullivan, and save me from dragging this out. If you don’t confess, I’ll be interviewing your co-workers, your friends and your family. Do you want your wife to be brought in here to answer questions? Your parents? I assure you, I’ll bring your whole family tree in here, and in the end, you’ll go down just as hard, but with a lot more noise. Do you really want to subject them to all that?”

Sullivan was breathing hard. The thought of his wife being forced to answer questions by this...animal... shriveled his rage into despair. Hunter kept at him, poking into his psyche with jabs and taunts until Sullivan finally collapsed.

The advocate protested loudly, but Hunter was tuned into the man’s heart beat - frantic, thundering, and he felt his vision go gray as the noise engulfed all other sensory input. He was frozen until he heard her voice calling him, beckoning him back.

“Sentinel? Captain Hunter?” Sarah was at his side, her hand touching his chest, and he breathed in and shook his head. Hunter glared at the advocate, who had watched with fascinated horror as the sentinel had zoned. Sullivan was lost in his own misery.

“Officer Sullivan, you have two choices: confess now, or I’ll tear you down, bit by bleeding bit.” Even Sarah shivered at his cold detachment.

Sullivan gave up. Despite what his advocate said, Sullivan signed his confession papers, then sat back, totally numb. It was all over: for him, for his wife and for their ten year old.

Hunter turned deliberately to the advocate. “Counselor, now that the formalities are over, I need a word with Sullivan -- alone.”

The advocate was about to protest, but the feral light in the sentinel’s eyes had him scurrying out the door

Sullivan just sat there. The IA captain had trapped him without effort. “What happens now?” The man’s voice was bleak.

“I take your confession to the inquiry board, and after reviewing all the facts, a decision will be made as to what charges will be filed.”

He was going to jail. Sullivan couldn’t even work up enough energy to move, to protest, to scream against the futility of all his efforts.

Hunter then moved around to Sullivan, leaning against the table edge. “Why didn’t you tell your captain about this?”

“What?” Sullivan asked, confused.

“Why didn’t you tell him about Beth?” Hunter asked. “The only people who knew about your daughter’s situation were your cronies at your station, and a handful of people from other divisions.”

Sullivan gave a short, bitter laugh. “What good would it do? The insurance wouldn’t pay for it. I tried everything I could to appeal. I sold everything I could, borrowed from everybody I knew, but it was not even close to what Beth needed. After the bone marrow transplant, I thought we were clear. When she relapsed three months ago, everyone we saw told us she had six months max. The experimental trials are just starting in the US -- and only for adults -- no exceptions. I researched everything I could, and found they’re doing limited runs on children in Europe. But I’d have to pay everything out of pocket -- the travel, the medicines, the hospitalization -- $200,000 minimum.” Sullivan paused. “Because I can’t afford it, my child is going to die. What’s drug dealing compared to that?”

“Lesser of two evils?” Hunter suggested, his face expressionless.

“Yes.” Sullivan seemed to calm at that. “I’d do it again.”

“Knowing that you’re committing a crime, betraying your department and fellow officers, and endangering the public you swore to serve and protect.”

“Yes, even then.” Sullivan finally met Hunter’s eyes. “Have you ever loved someone so much that you would lie, cheat, steal or murder to keep them safe?”

Hunter’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer.

“I guess I’m going to jail, huh?” Sullivan was exhausted. Even the thought of prison didn’t frighten him, just the thought of not being there when Beth.... “Would...would they consider waiting a few months, before they...I just want to be with her at the end.”

Sarah, feeling the man’s pain, was compelled to go over and touch the man’s shoulder, wanting to ease him. Sullivan startled at the touch, but when he felt the concern, he slumped, sobbing quietly.

Captain Hunter? He could feel her voice in his head, asking him to help the man.

Hunter stared down at the man whom he had systematically and ruthlessly broken. He had done his job, coldly, efficiently and by the book, and felt absolutely no satisfaction. He couldn’t compromise an investigation or let his personal feelings cloud his objectivity. Hunter weighed his options, looking first at Sullivan’s shaking shoulders, then at his guide, who waited for him to do something.

The right thing.

“Officer Sullivan, I will be presenting my evidence and your confession at the inquiry board meeting. My recommendation will be for your dismissal from this department.” Hunter watched the man’s shoulders stiffen. “As for the criminal charges...I will recommend that criminal charges be dropped due to extenuating circumstances.”

Sullivan’s head bobbed up in disbelief. The IA captain was actually going to go to bat for him?

“Why?” He couldn’t even fathom why the sentinel would even consider leniency with his opinion of crooked cops.

“Because you’ll be needing to travel soon to McKinley Medical Center -- it’s a military hospital that’s doing research in pediatric oncology. They’re running trials similar to those you found in Europe, but only on military and government employee dependents.”

“But why would they...?” Sullivan was confused.

Hunter took a piece of paper and scribbled a name and number. “Because you’re going to call Dr. Michael Bowen, chief of pediatrics at McKinley, and tell him that Captain Hunter said it’s time to repay the favor.” He handed the paper to Sullivan, who took it with shaking fingers, barely daring to hope.

“I...I don’t know what to say,” Sullivan stammered, every preconceived notion about the captain flying out the window.

“I’d advise you to call as soon as you get home, Officer Sullivan.” With that, Hunter stood, and caught Sarah close to his side. She leaned into him, her gratitude on top of Sullivan’s making him want to bolt.

Hunter grabbed his file folders while Sullivan just scrubbed at his wet face, staring down at the piece of paper. Hunter paused just as he and Sarah were about to exit the room.

Hunter hesitated, then said, “What you asked before: the answer is yes.” Then he and Sarah moved out the door.

Sullivan stared after Hunter long after the man had left.

~~~~~~~~

Hunter walked past the silent bullpen and into his office, Sarah hanging onto him. No one said a word and when the office door clicked shut, Sullivan made his way through the hall, his advocate holding onto his arm.

Rafe cringed in sympathy. The man looked like hell.

“Sullivan?” H asked. “What happened?”

“Officer Sullivan is not answering questions at this time,” his counsel said imperiously. “Now kindly....”

“No, it’s okay. They’ll find out soon anyway.” Sullivan looked straight into Rafe’s eyes. “Thanks for all you tried to do for me, but I’ve confessed.”

The small rumble of disbelief grew in volume.

“Are you crazy? Sullivan, it’s extenuating circumstances!” H was waving his arms, almost apoplectic.

Sullivan seemed almost calm. “No, I haven’t lost my mind. I knew it would happen; you guys warned me about Captain Hunter: no prisoners.”

“God, Sullivan....” The despair and understanding in Rafe’s voice nearly undid him.

“It’s for the best,” Sullivan said, weary to the bone, and walked down the hall to the elevator.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Another officer asked in hushed tones.

“I don’t know,” H said helplessly, as all eyes once again focused on the closed door of the captain’s office.

~~~~~~~~

Sarah had just finished her shower and was rooting through the refrigerator for eggs and milk to make omelettes. Pulling out cheese, ham and tomatos, she began her preparations. Stretching up to reach the top cabinet for the pan, she felt her muscles protest. They had been running every morning for two weeks now, and even though she was gaining more endurance, it would be a long time before she could keep up with Hunter. He insisted on the runs and the self defense lessons, no matter how sore and tired she was.

Hunter came down the stairs, freshly showered and totally relaxed. He sat down at the table and allowed Sarah to serve him a plate. It was an unspoken agreement: she ran; he ate breakfast.

“We’re going shopping today,” Hunter said, causing Sarah to look at him as if he had grown antlers.

Hunter? Shopping of his own free will?

“Do I need more work clothes?” Sarah asked worriedly. Granted her professional wardrobe was expanded due to the recent purchases, but maybe he was dissatisfied with her professional appearance.

“No. Just for fun. I want to check out the new music store.”

Sarah sat for a minute, trying to process that.

“You don’t want to go?” Hunter asked.

“I...” she hesitated, part of her yearning for something normal, like window shopping, and part of her dreading a scene like their first visit to the mall.

“It’s for fun, Sarah,” Hunter said, almost gently, waiting until she looked up and gave him a tentative smile.

It takes time, he thought. It just takes time.

They entered the mall and walked past the fountain. Sarah shivered as she remembered her classmates ganging up on her.

“They try anything, and I’ll kill them,” Hunter said matter of factly.

Sarah choked at his calm pronouncement. She looked around nervously, but there was no one she recognized.

“That fountain,” Hunter said frowning. “I don’t like it.”

Sarah felt a vague, shadowy chill as she stared at the water bubbling. There was something about it....

“Come on, Tiger,” Hunter said, tugging her along behind him. Again, he didn’t make her assume the guide position. It took a few minutes until the nickname registered. He used it sporadically, mostly when he was in a mellow mood, which wasn’t as often as Sarah would have liked. It was the one thing that gave her hope that he might be coming to care about her as a person.

They stopped outside CD Circus, a mega-music store that somehow still had an intimate feel to it. Rather like the combination bookstore/coffee shops, it had chairs and listening stations and a small coffee bar in the back. There was no music played overhead -- it all was piped into the CD sampler stations. The overall atmosphere was serene and mellow. No wonder Hunter liked the concept of a music store like this.

“Have you got your wallet?”

“Yes, Captain Hunter.” She clutched her purse closer to her. She actually had money of her own to spend. Hunter had explained that the GDP gave him a fixed sum for her up keeping, which personally he thought was insulting, so he would pay that into a bank account for her, and from that he would expect her to pay for the extra things she wanted. Hunter had added that Ellison had jumped the gun with Sandburg; he had seen the ATM card the kid had, but it was legal slight of hand, and the new regulations would soon be in effect allowing guides at least a savings account.

Sarah had squirreled away everything she could, hoping that one day she might be able to continue her education. A university education was expensive. But she would dearly love to get some CDs, and maybe some books. The Cascade Public Library had a strict policy of not allowing guides to borrow books. She still remembered the day last week when Hunter had picked up some reference texts and she had tentatively inquired about getting a library card. The library assistant had rudely snubbed her, and Hunter had sh