Title: Runaway Guide (Hetro Version)
Chapter Title: Ch 1
Characters: Spike as Sentinel William Spikeman, original character Ryann Mac Kenzie
Rating: FRAO, For explicit sex in chapter 3
Warnings: AU, Jim/Blair appear as cameo characters, Slash relationship is implied, Explicit sex in chapter 3, hurt/comfort
Fandom: BtVS/Sentinel Cross over. This story is set in a sentinel AU, not in the Buffy-verse.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
I am only keeping the fandoms alive in our hearts.
Summary: I will be posting two versions of this story. One is Het one is Slash.
Blair and Jim
will appear in this story. They will be slash in both stories.
After saving the world in season 7 of BtVS, Spike is sent to a Sentinel Universe. There he becomes a sentinel and must find his one true guide and continue working to make amends for his past evil deeds.
Since the multi-verse is infinite this is the story of one of the sentinel Spikes. There are more!
Disclaimer: Not mine. I am only keeping the fandoms alive in our hearts.
Acknowledgments: Thank you to my beta Goddesslex.
Comments: Please do. [email protected]
by Joan Z.
Spike said good-by to his friends and left the retirement party. He could hear the band playing at the reception down the hall and the guests singing The Bride Feeds the Groom. He tried to dial down his hearing, but only succeeded in turning up his scent dial. He cursed his lack of control and his lack of a guide, as he went to the coatroom and handed the clerk his tag. It was when she handed him his coat that he smelled it. Guide!
“Let me see the coat that was next to mine,” he told the clerk.
“I can’t give it to you without the tag,” she said.
Spike pulled out his badge, identifying him as Sentinel Detective William Spikeman, and the clerk handed him the coat. He inhaled a large whiff. “Guide,” he murmured and turned to walk down the hall toward the wedding reception.
“Hey,” the coatroom clerk yelled. “You can’t take the coat away from here.”
“It belongs to my guide,” Spike said. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”
As he approached the room his eyes changed from their usual lapis blue to the dark sapphire of a sentinel on a mission. Standing just inside the doorway, Spike tried to pick up his guide’s scent. She was in the room, but the scent was too diluted by the number of guests and their movement around the room for him to get a precise location. He walked over to the nearest table and began sniffing the women.
One of the men at the table took offense, “Hey buddy! What do you think you’re doing?”
Spike pulled out his police badge again. “Do any of you know who this coat belongs to?”
No one knew and the sentinel continued on to the next table. By the time he questioned the fifth table the feel of the room had changed. The laughter and loud conversations had turned to whispers as the information spread that a sentinel was in the room and he was searching for someone.
Ryann Mackenzie looked up and saw that the blonde man, with a sentinel’s square jaw, carrying her coat and sniffing women, was only two tables away. She got up quietly. Making sure to stay out of his line of vision, she left the room and walked swiftly to her car. Digging through her purse for her keys and dropping them before she finally got the door opened she forgot to turn off the alarm. The blaring noise startled her and by the time she got into the car she was shaking so much she had trouble getting the key into the ignition.
Spike was at the empty chair, still strong with his guides scent. He touched it; it was still warm. Hearing the car alarm he knew; his guide was on the run. He ran out the fire exit arriving at the parking lot as Ryann pulled away. Spike dialed up his vision and got her plate number.
Ryann glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the sentinel looking after her. She knew then that she could not chance going home. She was desperate; she didn’t want to bond with a sentinel. Every adult male she had known in her life, with the exception of the male guides she had met at guide school, had been abusive. She had no intention of becoming the property of a sentinel. “Three days,” she told herself. “Just hold out for three days; by then he’ll know it’s no good and he’ll give up.” She went to an ATM across town and took out the limit of her money and then got on the highway and traveled until midnight. She found a Residence Inn and paid cash for a one-night stay.
Spike ran her plates to get her name and address. He requested her files from guide school, and then called her apartment complex to make sure someone was there to let him in.
There had to be a reason she was running. Guides knew better; a sentinel who had found his ‘one true guide’ didn’t give up just because the guide ran. “One true guide,” he whispered to himself. Yesterday he hadn’t believed in ‘one true guide’; he thought it was just a bunch of hokum made up by mundanes to romanticize the sentinel/guide relationship. Spike pulled up in front of Ryann’s apartment. A maintenance man waited with keys to let him in.
She lived in a basement apartment next to the laundry room. Spike could sense something strange about it when he walked in but it took him a moment to put his finger on it. There were no pictures on the wall and no pictures of people anywhere. She had a bookcase full of books, a TV, a VCR, a DVD player, a computer and a stereo. He looked through her CD collection first. She had eclectic taste in music; Spike smiled, so did he. Then he turned on the computer and scanned the bookcase while he waited for it to boot up. He found her taste in reading to be even more varied than her taste in music.
When he sat down at the computer he found that the computer stored her password so he had no trouble getting into her e-mail. There was nothing personal only ads for shopping online. Spike signed into the police network and brought up Ryann’s Guide School records.
Ryann Mac Kenzie
Identified as a potential guide at age 11.
Enrolled in guide school upon graduation from high school at age 17.
Empathic level: 9.3
Guide has demonstrated healing capabilities.
Spike whistled. The empathic scale went from 0 to 10; anything over an 8.0 was quite rare.
Telepathic level: 8.9/2.7
Guide has demonstrated a high ability, 8.9, for Hazard Perception; however, her telepathic level drops to 2.7 when faced with mundane tasks such as card reading. It is believed this dichotomy developed as a result of her history of abuse.
Spike re-read the last sentence and then looked around the room. It all fell into place. Someone had hurt his guide. Hurt her so badly she no longer had the ability to trust. That’s why no pictures of family and friends were in her apartment; that’s why she ran.
Spike put out an APB on Ryann stressing her guide, rather than criminal, status.”
*Do not approach. Monitor and notify Sentinel Detective William Spikeman of guide’s whereabouts. *
He knew no police officer would risk incurring a sentinel’s wrath because of an injured guide.
Next he logged onto the Sentinel/Guide Alliance site and filed an Intent to Bond Certificate and now he was legal. He didn’t have to worry about getting a search warrant for her financial records, or relying on assumptions that there was already one on file.
When Spike had done everything a detective could do to track a fugitive on the run he went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. The scent of her was strong and he moaned. He wanted her and needed her. He reached out and pulled one of her pillows to him and curling himself around it in a fetal position he forced the sentinel within to wait.
Run Away Guide
by Joan Z.
Spike lay on the bed curled into a fetal position around his intended guide’s pillow. His body ached for her. That was something he hadn’t anticipated, physical pain. He had her scent but he needed to know her feel, her sound and her taste. He wanted to drink her in with his eyes. He needed more than the small picture of her in the guide school records. He couldn’t just lie there he had to do something.
He got up and started to pace. The detective in him knew the best thing to do is wait right where he was; but the sentinel in him wanted to run and track his guide; the sentinel wanted to find her and claim her as his own. The detective was more practical. Any information about which way she had run would come through the computer. He couldn’t leave until he knew where to go.
With an iron will he tried to force the sentinel to calm but the demand for his guide grew and Spike began to tare through the apartment looking for anything that could ease his demanding senses. The bathroom proved to be helpful; he found her toothbrush and stuck it into his mouth. There was a slight taste of tooth past but the taste of his guide was there too. He pulled the hair from her hairbrush and rubbed it between his fingers. It was soft and calming. Then he went back to the bedroom, the smell of her was strongest there. He curled around the pillow again and forced himself to meditate.
The cougar, Spike’s animal spirit guide came after only a few minutes. The blue-eyed cat gave a rumbling growl as it paced back and forth in Spike’s meditating mind. Spike's consciousness stood up and followed the golden cat as it ran through the night. It stopped briefly to sniff at an ATM machine and then onto the highway. The cougar’s long graceful strides sped them along too fast for Spike to read the green signs so he had to be content with counting them as he passed them by. Finely the cougar slowed and padded its way into the back parking lot of a Residence Inn. There it stopped to sniff and rub its cheek against a car Spike recognized as belonging to his guide. The cat walked over to a door and the building dissolved and re-solidified around them. They stood in front of door 227.
“She’s in there,” Spike said.
Satisfied that his sentinel understood the cougar began a deep rumbling purr and lay down to guard the door.
Spike came out of his meditation and went to the computer. The pain he had felt was forgotten now that he was taking action to find his guide. He brought up a map of the interstate and counted the exits along the way until he found the city he was looking for.
Then just to double check he logged onto the Residence Inn web sight and confirmed that the city did indeed have an inn located in Cascade. He called the Cascade police and after some annoying delays he was put through to a sleepy Sentinel Liaison Officer, Detective Jim Ellison.
Jim answered the phone, “It’s 3AM this better be good.”
“This is Sentinel Detective William Spikeman of Lake View. I have an APB out on a runaway guide and I have just received an anonymous tip that she is holed up at the Residence Inn, room 227. I’m sorry to wake you this early but I was told all Sentinel/Guide police activities have to go through you. I need an officer to confirm the tip.”
“Sorry for the gruff greeting, Sentinel Spikeman,” Jim said. “Is she your guide?”
“I hold an Intent to Bond Certificate.”
“If she’s there I’ll have an officer pick her up. We can…”
“No!” Spike said. “I don’t want her emotionally traumatized. Just confirm her presence and put a boot on her car. With a state police escort I can be there within an hour. With any luck she’ll still be asleep until then.”
“I understand your concerns, Sentinel” Jim said trying to calm the obviously stressed stranger. The last thing he needed was a rouge sentinel, in a bonding thrall, running around Cascade. “But your guide is a runaway,” Jim said. “I’d say she is already going through emotional trauma.”
Blair spoke up, “Let me talk to him Jim, traumatized guides and their sentinel’s are my domain.”
Jim was relieved to hand the phone to Blair. If anyone could calm a sentinel on the edge it was Blair.
“Hello, this is Guide Blair Sandburg, I’ll be glad to help in any way I can, I’ve often worked with emotionally stressed guides.”
“We’re wasting time Guide Sandburg. I need to confirm her presence at the inn.”
“Of course we will do that for you, Sentinel. What’s your guide’s name?”
“Ryann, I know Ryann. Hold on sentinel.” Blair looked at Jim, he didn’t bother to cover the phone as he spoke, he wanted the stressed out sentinel on the other end to know exactly how things were being handled. “Get an officer to confirm the guide’s there but make sure he doesn’t approach her.” Then he got back on the phone with Spike. “I’ll talk to Ryann myself, I can find out what’s going on. We knew each other at Guide School. I promise you we’ll get to the bottom of this as gently as possible. Can you tell me exactly what happened before she ran?”
Spike felt better as he told the story, something about Guide Sandburg reassured him and he found himself agreeing to let Sandburg talk to his guide. As Blair calmly reassured Spike, Jim came back into the bedroom. “She’s there,” he said. “It’s ten minutes from here we should get going.”
“Jim just got confirmation she is at the inn,” Blair said. “We’re heading over there now.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Spike said and hung up the phone.
Blair knocked at the door of room 227. When there was no answer he knocked again and called out. "Ryann, it's Blair Sandburg, we went to guide school together. Please open the door. I want to talk to you." There was still no answer. This time he pounded on the door. "Ryann, if you don't open the door the police will take it down."
No emotion showed on Ryann’s face as she opened the door and looked at Blair. "You've let your hair grow out."
"Yeah, may I come in?"
Ryann stepped back and let Blair in and then started to close the door. A very large foot and arm got in the way.
"The door stays open." Jim said.
Ryann turned to Blair. "I see you've been claimed,” she said in and exhausted voice as the realization hit her that with a sentinel present she was trapped.
"For two years," Blair said. "The big guy still gets a little over protective at times." Blair turned to Jim. "Jim, I'll be fine."
"The door stays open or I come in.” Jim said in his ‘not open for discussion’ voice. “What will it be?"
Ryann gave an ironic laugh. "You can listen through the door anyway so you might as well come in."
Jim stepped in, closed the door behind him and took up a guard position next to it. Ryann and Blair sat in the two kitchen chairs, they looked at each other across a small table. Both guide’s eyes were clearly filled with pain.
"What happened?" Blair asked. "Why did you run?"
"I was at a wedding and a sentinel was holding my coat and sniffing necks," Ryann said. "I don't want to become a sentinel's property, so I left."
"You never met Sentinel Spikeman?" Blair asked checking to see if what Spikeman had told him was true.
"Is that his name? No, I never saw him before."
"He'll be here soon. You'll have to talk to him. Running isn't the answer."
"Not anymore," Ryann said. "He'll claim me and that will be the end of it, until he doesn't want me anymore."
"A sentinel needs his guide; he wouldn't just toss you away and besides," Blair said," bonding to a Sentinel is a partnership, not slavery."
"Is that why I have no right to say no to bonding? Is that why we have to live where he wants to live and do the work that he wants to do?"
"I know you've been hurt by what happened to you with your family but a…"
"But, but, but," Ryann interrupted with a snicker . "Spare me the party line Blair. So what happens now, the sentinel will be here in a little while."
"We ran a check on him before we came up to talk to you. His abilities manifested a little over a year ago. He was in a bank during a hold-up and saved a kid from getting shot. He was pistol-whipped and in a coma for 3 days and when he woke up he had sentinel abilities. He left his job and went into law enforcement. Everything we found out about him says he's a good man."
"What did he do before that?"
"He was an English teacher."
"Wow, from a teacher to a sentinel," Ryann said, "that had to be a shock."
Jim's cell phone rang. "Thanks Walters," Jim said into the phone and then hung up.
"Spikeman is on the way up. Walters asked him to wait in the lobby but he wouldn't have it."
"Well," Ryann said, "I guess it's good-bye then. Thanks for coming, Blair. That was very kind of you."
"It's not good-bye," Blair said, not wanting Ryann to feel abandoned, he reached into his wallet. "Here take my card. If you need to talk, guide to guide or friend to friend, give me a call."
"Do you really think that a sentinel is going to let his female guide talk to another male?"
"Of course he will," Blair said. "Take the card. If I don't hear from you, I'll call you."
There was a knock on the door.
"Blair’s right,” Jim said, “If you need a friend or to talk to another guide you call. Are you ready?"
Ryann took the card. "I'll never be ready," she said. "But open it anyway."
Jim opened the door. Sentinel Detective William Spikeman stood in the hall clutching his guide's pillow.
Run Away Guide
by Joan Z.
Ryann Mackenzie looked at the sentinel standing at the door clutching her bed pillow and her heart began to melt.
Sentinel Spikeman stepped into the room and took a deep breath through his nose. "Guide," he whispered as he made eye contact with Ryann.
Ryann looked into the lapis blue eyes and sensed his need and hope mixed with concern for her. The sentinel looked so vulnerable. She hadn’t expected that. She had expected a rogue lost in a bonding thrall. She had expected to see lust; expected to be claimed and owned by a sentinel.
Spike stepped to the side and placed the pillow on the kitchenette counter then he walked back and opened the folding closet doors. After scanning the area he walked past Ryann and into the bathroom to check for anything that might be dangerous to his guide. He came back carrying a towel, which he laid out on the counter top. Spike opened all the drawers and took out all the knives, flatware and utensils.
Ryann whispered to Blair, “What’s he doing?”
“Sentinel thing,” Blair said. “He’s protecting his guide.”
Spike wrapped everything in the towel and placed the bundle, along with his gun, in the guest's safe in the closet.
Spike turned to Jim. "It's clear," he said. "You can go now."
Jim nodded to his fellow sentinel. "Come on, Chief," he said to Blair. "Let’s give them some privacy."
When the pair left Spike slid the night lock into place then he walked over to the kitchen table and turned one of the chairs around. He straddled the chair and sat down so that he was facing his guide and the back of the chair and the table was between them.
The action was not lost on Ryann. The sentinel was putting up a symbolic barrier between them. He was telling Ryann to relax he would keep his distance.
Spike handed the safe key to her. "Here," Spike said. "You say when I get my gun back."
Ryann didn't take the key or answer she just stood staring at the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. The blond hair was wavy, unkempt and longer than the short cut that most sentinels wore. His cheekbones were high and sharp and his jaw line was as square as any she had ever seen. But the most outstanding feature was his eyes. They were soft, caring and blue, very blue, without a hint of gray that most blue eyes had, and they were framed by thick dark lashes. Beautiful was the only word Ryann could think of.
When his guide didn't answer Spike shrugged and dropped the key on the table. "Sit down. Pet, we need to talk this out."
Ryann startled. "I'm not your pet," she said letting her anger at the term show. "I'm not an animal, I'm a human being."
"It was meant as a term of endearment," Spike said softly. "Please, sit down."
"Why bother?" Ryann asked. "Why don't you just force me to bond now and get it over with?"
"Don't want to force you," Spike said.
"Then you may as well leave," Ryann said, "because I'm not going to change my mind."
"You know that's not going to happen."
"Why not? If you leave now the drive to bond with me will fade. Scent, sound and sight, that's only three senses. You're not locked in yet with all five, you could go."
Spike pulled a small wad of hair out of his pocket and showed it to Ryann, "Touch, he said. "From the hairbrush in your apartment."
"Still not locked," Ryann said. "You haven't tasted me yet."
"Wrong again guide."
"What did you do?" Ryann asked, "taste my spoon from the wedding?"
"Toothbrush from your apartment…and the pillow," Spike admitted.
"You tasted my pillow?"
"Just the pillow case," Spike said with a shrug. "I was in pain, I had to do something."
"What do you mean you were in pain?" Ryann asked, her empathic instincts kicking in.
"You weren’t with me,” Spike said. “It hurt."
“It’s not supposed to hurt,” Ryann said. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Was it bad?”
“It’s gone now,” Spike said and then tilted his head and asked, “why did you run guide, what are you afraid of?”
“I don’t want to be the property of a sentinel.”
“Property?” Spike said. “Is that what you think I want?”
“That’s what I think I’ll be,” Ryann said looking down at the floor.
“You’re wrong,” Spike said. “I need and want a guide, I don’t want to own you.”
“What makes you think you’ll be different?” Ryann asked.
“I know someone has abused you,” Spike said. “It was in your guide school records.”
“Some one… guess again,” Ryann, said. “There was more than one. And all of them were men.”
“And all men are alike, is that what you believe?”
“That’s been my experience,” Ryann answered with an edge of anger in her voice.
“What do you need, Guide?”
“I need you to leave me alone.”
“You’ve been alone; have you been happy?”
It was a question she had never before been asked and one she never expected to be asked. It hit her like a baseball bat to the stomach. She hung her head and whispered, “no.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
It was more than the sentinel could stand. His guide was in pain and needed comforting. Spike got up from the chair and walked over to Ryann. “It’s time to try something new.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed away the tears and then laid her head on his shoulder. “Cry as long as you need to,” he said. “I’ll be here.”
Spike walked his barefoot guide into the bedroom and laid her on the bed and then he took off his shoes and lay down next to her. He held her and stroked her and after a while he began to unbutton her blouse. He could smell her fear return so he stopped and comforted her some more. It took two hours for Spike to finally get them both undressed and lying together skin to skin.
Ryann was confused. She didn’t expect to be comforted. She didn’t want to accept it. She was sure it was only a ploy, if she began to want it, it would be taken away. There had been so many times as a child she had needed to be comforted only to be left alone in an emotional freefall.
Spike began to nuzzle her neck and make little mewling sounds. They were the sounds of a sentinel in need of his guide. She could no more ignore his plea than she could ignore breathing. She was an empath, a healer, if she couldn’t give the sentinel what he wanted she would at least give him what he needed. She moved her head and gave Spike access to her neck. He began licking and searching for the nickel size gland that gave off guide pheromones. When he found it he began to suckle.
Serotonin flooded Ryann’s brain and all her carefully constructed emotional barriers came down… and then Spike was there, Spike wanting to give her comfort, Spike wanting to protect her, Spike wanting to belong to her. She had no resistance; she let him in. In that instant the bond was forged, and she came to know Spike, all his faults and all his strengths, all his needs and all his wants, all his joys and all his pains; she knew them all. The doubt that she had felt was erased. She was held in the sure, strong heart of a sentinel and she cried out in the overwhelming joy of being bonded to one who would not betray her.
“It’s all right,” Spike whispered, “I’m here.”
“I know,” she said. “You’re my sentinel and I’m your guide. Have I given you what you need?”
“Yes, Guide you have,” he said as he peppered her face with kisses.
“Now let me give you what you want.” She kissed her way down Spike’s torso to his hard, hot, cock.
Spike moaned with the feel of her mouth on him. Pre cum began to drip from his member and she eagerly licked it up. Spike pulled her to him and kissed her. The taste of him mixed with her saliva was overwhelming and he rolled her onto her back. He put a pillow under her hips and then moved between her legs to drink from her as she had drunk from him.
Ryann moaned and cried out as Spike’s tongue laved her clitoris. And then he entered her.
The smell, the taste, the sound, the sight and the feel of his guide swirled through him and around him and he exploded into her. “My guide,” he cried out.
The intensity of Spike’s orgasm triggered Ryann’s body to respond and she cried out. “Yours,” as her muscles contracted around him.
Afterward they lie quietly in each other’s arms and fell asleep. For the first time Ryann felt her life had a purpose and she slept in peace.