Blair buzzed around the loft, straightening and rearranging; his curly, cinnamon colored hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail with one of his leather hair ties. The young man wanted everything to be perfect tonight; a nice calm, and most importantly, quiet evening. He and Jim had been so busy lately, with one thing or another, and they both needed a break. Starting classes at the Police Academy a few weeks earlier had been just as stressful as Blair had imagined it would be. The other cadets, young and just starting out, resented a 30 something year-old man horning in on their territory; especially since he was already guaranteed a spot in the highly coveted Major Crimes division. That little fact hadn’t earned him any friends among his fellow trainees, although helping tutor some of the younger cadets had. Jim had been carrying an unusually heavy caseload the last month or so. There had been a series of assaults that the detective was sure were connected somehow. A couple of murders had happened in the warehouse district that looked like they were gang related and everybody was looking forward to that confrontation. Then, to top it all off, there had been the kidnapping and subsequent murder of a prominent socialite. The young cadet and Guide felt doubly guilty at not being there to help his partner. He couldn’t even do very much of Jim’s paperwork, because by the time he finished at the Academy most days, Ellison had already gone home. Home to a cold, lonely loft. Home to either fix dinner himself or order out. Blair was mightily sick of pizza and Chinese takeout. But, not today, today was different. Blair had gotten home early from the Academy today; much sooner than he thought he would. Thursday’s were usually one of his long days, with the young cadet not coming back to the loft until late in the afternoon or early in the evening. However, as luck would have it, one of the teachers had come down with the flu and Blair’s last class had been cancelled, allowing the young man some much needed and unanticipated free time. Bad for the instructor, good for Blair. The young man turned the temperature on the oven down, leaving the heat on just low enough to keep the lasagna warm. There was a salad in the refrigerator and homemade rolls were rising on the back of the stove, just waiting to be popped into the oven. A sound at the door had Blair smiling and moving forward to intercept his big lover. The scuffed, green door opened and a tired looking Jim came in. Keys hit the basket beside the door, jangling against Blair’s own set of keys. Jim’s Jag cap was laid down rather than tossed over onto the hat rack. "Hi Chief." The older detective even sounded tired. Blair didn’t like that, so he decided to do what he could to invigorate his lover. The younger man walked over and grabbed Jim around the waist, pulled his tight body next to his own and kissed him…hard. Both men managed to forget about the open door behind them in their enthusiasm. Lips slid warmly across their cold mate’s. Hands slid under a cool jacket and ran down Jim’s back, mapping out the familiar territory, just in case he had missed any hidden treasures. Blair moaned as Jim’s hand slid inside the waistband of Blair’s jeans. He jumped a little at the cold touch and then the shorter man began to murmur his appreciation at the sensation, as the cold first burned his skin and then slowly began to warm. Jim’s hand moved in small circles, just at the swell of his bottom; teasing and taunting the twitching flesh. Blair slid his tongue deeper into Jim’s mouth, causing the older man to moan in approval. Jim’s free hand slid up into Blair’s hair. He tugged at the leather tie and let it drop to the floor. Fingers wove through the luxurious locks. The slide of the silky hair through his fingers intoxicated both men. After a couple of minutes of intense tonsil examination, they broke apart. "Hi Jim." The anthropologist smiled, his whole face lighting up at Jim’s expression. The older man was looking Blair over from head to toe and obviously happy with what he found in between. Blair’s eyes flicked to the open doorway and he frowned, momentarily brought out of his lust induced daze. Too many people had attacked them in the loft to leave the door open, even for a few minutes. Reluctantly letting go of his lover, Blair closed and locked the poster covered, green door. He turned back and smiled again. Jim was still immobile, standing where he had left him. "Come on Big Guy, into the shower you go." Jim jumped slightly as Blair slapped on his butt. He had almost zoned on his lover’s touch and even the loss of said touch hadn’t roused him. The slap did. He turned and gave his younger lover a raised eyebrow that suggested retribution was going to happen soon. Blair grinned unrepentantly and pointed towards the bathroom. "Go on." Jim seemed amused that Blair was ordering him around. "Okay, don’t go. Dinner will get cold…and so will I." "Riiiight. Like that would ever happen." "Hey!" Blair tried sounding indignant. "Are you saying I’m easy?" Jim grinned down at the smaller man. "Chief you are many things, but easy isn’t one of them." Blair bent down to pick up the hair tie and smirked. He knew that the Sentinel was watching his every move and trying not to grab his butt. The younger man raised his arms up to pull his hair back. The movement pulled his shirt askew and revealed a patch of dark hair on his abdomen. Knowing exactly what he was doing to his bigger lover, Blair carefully and oh-so slowly tucked the shirt back into his jeans. The detective was panting by the time Blair finished his ablutions. He watched as Blair twisted the waistband of his jeans, adjusting the impressive bulge in front. Jim looked up to see a wickedly grinning Blair lick his lips. Ellison’s eyes darkened appreciably at the erotic sight. "You’re right Jim." Ellison swallowed heavily. Right? What was Blair talking about? He had lost the thread of the conversation, sometime about when Blair had bent over. "I’m not that easy." The nicely rounded butt sauntered away, causing Jim to groan. "Go take your bath, Big Guy." With his tired mind swirling hazily, filled with pictures of the things he could do with that body, Jim stumbled into the bathroom. Blair watched his lover walk away and nodded happily. "Well, that got him to forget about work for awhile." Mission accomplished, Blair continued on with Phase II of their night. Jim emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, a cloud of steam following in his wake. He stopped in the middle of the room and took a deep breath. The tired detective was finally relaxed enough to take in the scene before him. A myriad of scents tantalized his senses. The Sentinel closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting the dial on smell spin up slightly. The spicy tang of the lasagna and…yes, some of Blair’s homemade rolls, filled his nose. The hint of vanilla in the air, from the incense sticks that Blair had burning, turned down the sharper smells, mellowing the atmosphere. Underneath it all was the pure, clean smell of Blair. His herbal shampoo and strawberry essence body wash only added to the olfactory feast. However, nothing was better or more relaxing than the subtle smell of Blair’s skin. It smelled better than any cologne ever had. Jim opened his eyes and smiled as he saw Blair moving around in the kitchen; his bounce was still there, even after all of the changes and growing up the younger man had been through. His love’s beautiful hair floated around his head like a cloud where it was again escaping from its ponytail and Jim positively ached to touch it. Following where his heart wanted to go, Jim crossed to the kitchen. Blair looked over and smiled. "Hey, Jim. Do you feel better now?" ‘Oh lordy, Blair has his glasses on.’ Jim loved those glasses. They made Blair look even sexier, if that were possible. Perched on top of that cute little nose, they made his eyes look bluer than ever. It was no good, any resistance Jim might have had fled. The Sentinel pounced on his unsuspecting lover. The smaller man’s eyes widened in momentary surprise as he was pushed up against the refrigerator with an "oomph". Jim’s hands dove into Blair’s hair as they kissed. This time the Sentinel tossed the tie over his shoulder, ensuring that it couldn’t be retrieved again that night. The curly strands swirled around Ellison’s hands like a living thing. Blair’s hands clutched at Jim’s robe in defense. Taste and touch were added to Jim’s enjoyment. The taste of Blair’s mouth was better than any food around. The sounds of lust soon followed, as Blair’s moans filled the room. Then Blair’s stomach rumbled. The two men laughed and broke apart. "Dinner." They chimed together. Short work was made of the dinner. Neither man was inclined to linger over the well made and tasty food. They had better places to be and more important things on their minds. Jim reached out and grabbed his younger lover’s strong hand and pulled Blair up to stand by him. "Forget the dishes…we can do them in the morning." The detective laughed out loud at the stunned look in his lover’s eyes. "Jim, are you…" The Sentinel stopped any questioning by simply covering Blair’s talking mouth with his own. He then inserted his tongue, just to make sure his lover wouldn’t be inclined to talk. Blair moaned into his mouth when Jim’s wandering hands cupped the younger man’s nicely rounded bottom. "Upstairs." "Upstairs." Both men laughed as they spoke at the same time. With a wicked smile Blair backed slowly away from his lover, as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop to the floor. He carefully undid the button on his jeans and then eased the zipper down. Leaning against one of the couches, Blair peeled his jeans off and carelessly tossed them over his shoulder. Jim’s eyes were enormous as was his erection, if the evidence showing clearly through the front of the bathrobe was any indication. Blair smiled happily at the sight and licked his lips playfully. Then he stuck his thumbs under the edge of his boxer’s and began to teasingly inch the fabric down. Just when Jim was panting in anticipation…Blair turned and ran up the stairs. Standing at the entrance to their loft bedroom, Blair threw a saucy look over his shoulder and crooked a finger. "Catch me if you can." The young Guide ran towards the bed. He didn’t get more than three steps before he was hit from behind by a large, muscular man. Jim twisted them in mid-air so that they landed on their sides and Blair wasn’t crushed under his much heavier lover. "I guess you caught me." Blair turned to look into Jim’s pale blue eyes. His own sapphire colored eyes sparkled in delight, as he gave a pretend pout. "Darn, I guess I’ll just have to take whatever punishment you deem necessary." Jim shifted on the bed and winced. Blair frowned when he saw the pain on his lover’s visage. Lust took a back seat for the moment. Reaching up, he cupped the beloved face. "Sore?" "Yeah, sitting on my butt at the courthouse is always a pain. I didn’t even get called, so tomorrow I have to go back and do the same thing, all over again." Deciding loving could wait for a few minutes, Blair thought of a way to relax Jim even more. Shifting sideways, he sat up and looked down on his lover. "Hey, Big Guy, how about a massage. It’ll help unkink your back and make you feel better." "Chief…that sounds like heaven." "I’ll be right back." With that, Blair hurried back down the stairs he had so recently raced up. In a matter of minutes he was back, his arms loaded with supplies. "Let’s get your robe off." The younger man got things ready as he watched Jim take off his bathrobe. A soft, white beach towel was laid down on top of the sheets, to protect them. Lube was one thing to get out of the sheets, massage oil was completely different. Blair watched as Jim lay down on the towel, wearing only his boxers. He carefully climbed on top of the bigger man and straddled his hips. The Guide swallowed hard and had to bite back a moan. He poured a thin ribbon of eucalyptus oil down the center of Jim’s back, following the indention of his spine. The Sentinel twitched at the sensation. "Don’t dial it down man." Blair put both hands on Jim’s back and began to swirl the oil around, until Jim’s back was glistening. He tried to distract himself from the sight by going over, in his mind, the therapeutic properties in the eucalyptus plant. The anthropologist had to distract himself or he was going to attack a very tired Jim where he lay. Blair was seriously beginning to doubt that Jim was awake enough for that; the massage seemed to be relaxing him too much. Not that Blair minded, this was obviously something that Jim needed. They could make love later, they had plenty of time. It didn’t help that every time he leaned forward his body rubbed against Jim’s rock hard butt. Jim’s constant moans didn’t help either. Just as Blair was contemplating taking a very cold shower, Jim turned over underneath him. Blair wasn’t quite sure how Jim accomplished that with Blair still straddling him, but hey, he wasn’t going to complain. "Chief." Jim’s voice was husky and his boxers were straining under a considerable bulge. Maybe Jim wasn’t as tired as Blair thought. Fingers were laced into Blair’s hair again and he was pulled down to lie prone on the bigger man. Erections rubbed across each other, only separated by two thin pieces of material. Jim dealt with the obstruction to Blair’s body and Blair quickly divested Jim of his bothersome clothing. They slid against each other slickly. Blair arched his back at the sensation and Jim protested the loss of Blair’s lips. Hands roamed, touching and gripping. Before long, both men cried out in ecstasy and slumped against each other. Blair rolled them both to the side and they fell asleep, happy but exhausted. In a posh hotel across town, the scene was as different from the one at the loft, as night and day. In one of the magnificent penthouse suites, complete with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a dining room and a bar, a man and woman had just finished eating their dinner. The pair had opted to stay in their room rather than go down to the hotel’s dining room, because they didn’t want to be noticed by the other patrons. Considering the fact that she was a tall voluptuous woman with waist length, strawberry blond hair who favored skin tight dresses and he was an also a very tall person, whose face was a roadmap of scars…the idea was rather moot. Their solitary dining experience was silent, not one word passed between the dining companions. The repast was a sumptuous, 7 course meal, served on bone china and crystal. It was as different as could be from Jim and Blair’s more humble dinner. Neither diner paid the least bit of attention to the banquet, not caring what they ate. The red headed woman stood and crossed to the windows. She looked out over the impressive skyline. Like the meal, the view was spectacular. Again, no attention was paid to the sight before her. The man walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Turning slightly, she gave him a chilling look; first at his hand and then at him. The dark-haired man quickly removed his hand. The man in question was a mercenary, a hired killer. His face bore the results of his harsh life; it was scarred and cruel. He hadn’t smiled in years and only then when he was watching someone scream as they were tortured to death. The woman was young, in her mid-thirties, although she didn’t look that old, and quite beautiful. Her lightly tanned skin was smooth and soft. Long, light red hair whispered across the back of her dress when she moved. Her eyes were tilted like a cat’s, giving her an exotic, otherworldly look. The woman was a lot scarier than the man and they both knew it. "Tomorrow." He said quietly. The woman’s generous mouth smiled cruelly. "Yes…tomorrow she will be avenged." Jim sat at his desk and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt better after Blair’s surprise dinner and seduction the night before, especially the wonderful massage, but he was still worn out. Maybe he could cajole Simon into giving them a couple of days off. He and Blair could head up to the mountains for a little fishing and…damn, he forgot. With Blair attending the Academy now, days off were going to be at a premium for a while. The Sentinel looked at his watch and mentally calculated where Blair would probably be at this particular moment in time. It was something that the Blessed Protector in him automatically did several times a day. The man in him rarely noticed the constant watch he kept on the younger man. It was instinct, the need to protect his Guide, something he didn’t think about anymore. Blair was probably somewhere between here and the Academy would be his guess. If Jim estimated right, Blair should be here within half an hour, maybe less. Jim decided to be generous and give Blair 45 minutes before he started worrying. The Sentinel in him was pleased with himself, happy that he could be that flexible where Blair was concerned. He glanced out the window and frowned at the gray, cloudy sky. It had been raining off and on, mostly on, all day. Jim knew that his Guide had most likely been cold and miserable all day long. Blair was always cold, no matter what the weather, and today was one of the days that they were supposed to run the obstacle course, so Blair would have been outside most of the day. "Hey, Jim. How’s Hairboy doing at the Academy?" Turning in his chair, Jim looked up at Henri Brown, one of the other detectives in Major Crimes and a good friend. The large man perched a hip on the edge of Jim’s desk. "He’s doing great. So far, he’s aced every test they’ve given and is one the top 10 students of his class in target practice." Jim bragged, proud of his young lover. "All right!" H held up his hand and the two men high-fived over Blair’s successes. The two men puffed up in pride, as happy as if they had done the work themselves. "I knew he could do it with the tests, but it’s really great how well he’s learning to shoot. Tell him I said congrats." "You can tell him yourself, he should be here any minute." The Sentinel automatically glanced at his watch and frowned, already forgetting about his 45 minute estimation. Blair was running late. Brown tried to hide his smile as he watched Jim worrying about Blair. Jim caught the smile anyway and narrowed his eyes at the other man. H pasted an innocent look on his face and walked back over to his desk and his partner, who was laughing. H smacked Brian Rafe, another Major Crimes detective, on the shoulder and sat back down. Jim looked down again at the file on his desk and frowned, trying to get his mind back on the case he had been working on. There was something he was missing, some little clue that he was overlooking. That was the reason he was back at the station after another long day at the courthouse. The Simmons kidnapping case had been a disaster from the get go. The wealthy young wife and mother had disappeared from her palatial home, only to be found shot in the head three days later in a filthy alley across town. Demands had been met without any complaint. Jim had followed the kidnapper’s directions to the letter. The ransom had been paid. So why was she killed? "Ellison! My office." Captain Simon Bank’s bellow startled the donut girl, who jumped several inches in the air. The small, young woman was new to the PD and not used to the captain’s loud manners. Jim smiled reassuringly at the young woman, receiving a tentative smile in return, before he followed his captain into the office. "Any luck with the Melissa Simmons case?" Jim shut the door before he answered. "No, nothing yet, sir." "Damn." Simon poured himself a cup of coffee and raised the pot questioningly to Jim. Jim shook his head at the offer. "No thanks, if I drink any more coffee today, my head’s going to fly right off." Jim sniffed and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Chocolate?! Chocolate flavored coffee?" The detective was horrified. Simon nodded grimly. "Yeah, the Commissioner recommended it and I thought I should at least try it out in case he asks." The larger man took a sip out of his mug and shuddered in disgust. "God! The things I do for politics." Simon continued to mutter under his breath about the trials of being a police captain and how Jim should be glad he was still a detective. Jim nodded in the right places and was quietly glad of the fact himself. Who the hell would want to put up with all the complaining Simon had to put up with. "So, bring me up to speed on the case." Simon sat down at his desk as Jim sat down opposite him. The two friends talked for quite a while, going over what little they knew. Even with his mind on the case, Jim kept looking from his watch to the rapidly darkening skies outside. Blair pulled into the parking lot and sighed tiredly. Unlike yesterday’s happy reprieve, today’s schedule had been hectic and unrelenting. Classes, classes and more classes. The dreaded obstacle course was tackled. Firearms training too. That was one of the main problems with becoming a cop; carrying a gun. The thought of shooting anybody was hard to imagine. Actually, he could imagine it quite well, that was the problem. Hence, his never ending practice sessions, he wanted to be as proficient as he could. If he were really good, maybe he wouldn’t have to kill anybody. Then, to put a cap on a perfect day, there had been a wreck on the way to the station. Blair had witnessed the accident first hand and had stopped to help the small family of four. Luckily they only had minor injuries, but now he was really tired and wet and cold. The young observer looked out the rain streaked windshield and groaned. He was parked beside Jim’s blue and white truck, Sweetheart, out in the far end of the northern parking lot. They couldn’t park in the police garage right now, because repairs were still being done that were the result of a car bombing a couple of weeks earlier. Blair realized he was going to get even more soaked and without even the dubious protection of an umbrella, there was nothing he could do about it. Blair got out of the Volvo and promptly stepped into a mud puddle. Icy cold, muddy water filled his shoes. "Yuck!" Blair shook one foot and then the other in a vain attempt to get rid of some of the water. He stopped and looked around, wondering if he looked like some demented dog shaking the rain from its fur. "Oh man, we need to move to someplace drier, like maybe the Rain Forest." Blair snorted at the mild attempt at humor. Blair heard the crunch of gravel behind him and started to turn, thinking that Jim had heard him arrive and had come to see what the hold up was. After all, the young man had been sitting in his car for several minutes, trying to work up the energy for the walk to the police station. He was only partially turned when the whoosh of displaced air registered in his mind. Pain exploded in the back of his head, making Blair grunt and fall forward. He landed heavily on his knees in front of his car. Blair’s brain was screaming at him to get up, the attacker was still behind him, but his body couldn’t help. The young man gasped as the wave of pain hit. His arms turned into half-melted Jello. He swayed for a moment, before they gave way and he fell forward onto the wet concrete, unconscious. There was a tap at the door. "Come in." Simon’s bellow was as loud as usual. Joel Taggart, former Captain of the Bomb Squad and now a detective in Major Crimes, walked in. A file was clutched in one large hand. "I’ve just had a call from a snitch of mine. He said that Melissa Simmons was last seen on Hanover Street, two days after she was kidnapped." Simon frowned at the unusual news, not liking this strange new twist to an already overly complicated and politically volatile case. "So, what the hell is going on here? Does this mean she was in on the kidnapping all along or that the kidnapper was forcing her to follow some hidden agenda?" Jim shook his head. "I doubt she would have been in on the kidnapping, sir. She was a wealthy heiress, worth about…" Jim paused as he shuffled the papers around. "…five hundred million. She didn’t need the extra money. Besides, the ransom was paid out of her bank accounts anyway." "Five…hundred…million?" Simon’s mouth hung open. Jim just nodded. Simon realized he was gaping like a stunned fish and snapped his mouth shut. The Captain shoved an ever present cigar in. "That’s right, sir. So the ten million dollar ransom was like making a withdrawal from petty cash for someone like her. The Captain rolled the cigar in his hand as he thought. "What about back taxes or business deals gone bad? Just because she had the money on paper doesn’t mean she wasn’t in trouble financially." "No, sir, Blair did a computer check on her for me. Everything checks out financially. There were no problems with the IRS, not even a suggestion of a problem. Her money’s invested in mostly Blue Chip stocks and there’s no hint of any gambling problems whatsoever." "Also, I’ve checked around. According to everybody I’ve talked to the woman was well liked. She gave generously to charitable foundations and actually worked at a homeless shelter herself." Joel looked from Ellison to Captain Banks. "People were genuinely upset at her death." Simon rubbed his free hand across his forehead, trying to stave off the headache that had been threatening for hours. The phone call from the police chief earlier hadn’t helped matters. It didn’t matter that there were very few clues to go on; this was a high profile case and they didn’t even have a suspect yet. "So the person with her, who we have to assume was the kidnapper, must have had some reason to have her out and about before he had collected his ransom." "Yeah, but what?" Jim glanced at his watch again. Simon noticed the motion and wondered what was bothering his best detective. He glanced out into the bullpen and failed to see a certain curly haired anthropologist and police cadet. "Where’s Blair? He’s good at figuring out these kinds of mysteries." Simon nodded at Joel’s assessment. "Yeah, he could give us an idea of who to look for." The captain wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Blair had an uncanny ability of looking at a few clues and knowing what kind of person they were searching for. Jim interrupted his Captain’s train of thought. "I don’t know. He should be here by now. I guess he’s just running later than usual." Tapping his chin with his fingers nervously, Jim looked out the windows in Simon’s office at the now, mostly dark sky and came to a decision. "Excuse me, sir." He nodded at Simon and then his other friend. "Joel. I’ll be right back." Jim went to his desk and called the Academy to see if Blair had been detained. On the way, he extended his senses, expecting any moment to hear Blair’s voice or his precious heartbeat. Silence, at least of what he needed to hear most, greeted the Sentinel. Jim punched in the number to the Police Academy. It was number 5 on the speed dial. The Sentinel had programmed the number in on Blair’s first day at the Academy. He didn’t think there was anything unusual about that. As a Sentinel, he needed to have quick access to his Guide. If his friends and colleagues thought differently, they wisely kept the idea to themselves. Years of an overprotective Jim and a trouble magnet Blair had taught them better. On the other end of the phone, one of Blair’s instructors, who was teaching a late night self defense class, answered on the fifth ring. "I’m sorry Detective Ellison. Blair’s long gone; he left here about an hour and a half ago." ‘That’s more than enough time for him to drive here.’ Jim thought to himself, as he thanked the woman and then hung up. He ignored people around him, only to dial Blair’s cell phone next. He let it ring as he tapped a pencil against the desk. Jim let it ring 10 more times as he got up and paced, his mind making up more and more fantastic predicaments that his trouble magnet partner and Guide could have gotten into. Henri Brown saw Jim pacing and made a detour around the other way to get to his desk. Rafe saw how antsy Jim was getting and wisely decided to stay back; he didn’t really need that cup of coffee right now. Megan wasn’t in the building, so she missed the beginning of the crisis. Jim stared at Blair’s empty chair as the phone continued to ring. The faint ringing sound was what brought Blair around. It sounded so far away that the younger man was tempted to just ignore it. It was muffled and so, so distant… He couldn’t ignore it though, because he knew Jim would be disturbed by the noise. The need to help his Sentinel outweighed the need to rest and had the injured Guide rousing himself far sooner than he should have been able to. Blair opened his eyes and tried to answer the phone. He couldn’t understand why his and Jim’s bed was so hard. Not fully comprehending the situation, the young Guide started to reach over to the nightstand where the phone was placed, only to find that he couldn’t move his hands. That woke Blair up faster than any alarm clock ever had. Blair panicked when he realized that instead of lying on a nice warm bed beside his lover, he was, in fact, lying on the cold, wet ground. In the faint, pink light of the fast fading day, the young anthropologist could see that his hands were handcuffed above his head. The young man slowly and meticulously levered himself up. The movement made his head spin and before he could take a breath to settle himself, Blair began to throw up. He was able to turn his head to the side, so that he didn’t cover himself in vomit, but it was close. Watery vomit still ended up getting splattered on his lower legs. Luckily for Blair, in that respect at least, he had been so busy today that he hadn’t had the chance to eat very much. Not much breakfast and a lack of lunch meant that there wasn’t much to come up. When Blair’s stomach stopped rebelling, he opened his eyes again. Everything was fuzzy and the world had a nasty tendency to tilt to the right. Trying to bring things into focus, the anthropologist realized he really shouldn’t be seeing four hands. "Seeing double, man, that’s not good." Blair wiped his mouth on the back of his arm and tried to figure out what had happened. He remembered being at the academy and he remembered arriving at the station. Then…nothing. The anthropologist closed his eyes again and concentrated. After a few minutes, his mind cleared a little bit and he vaguely remembered being attacked. Moving his bound hands as well as he could, Blair felt cold metal bars. Squinting blearily, Blair leaned back slightly, making himself dizzier. But the flash of nausea was worth it when he realized that he was cuffed to the grill of Jim’s truck. "Okay, at least I know where I’m at." Blair shivered violently and it was only then that he also realized he was freezing. Who ever had done this to him had, for some reason, taken most of his clothes, leaving him clad in only his boxers and a tee shirt. The moisture from the wet concrete had seeped into the back of his shirt and underwear; the continuing rain had soaked the front of him. The phone was ringing again and Blair glanced around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. He looked over to see his backpack lying just a few feet away. The sound seemed to be coming from there. It took a couple more rings before Blair’s fuzzy brain realized that it must be his cell phone that was making all the noise. "The phone. Man, if I can just get to my cell phone, I can call Jim." It took several more rings, with Blair staring blankly at his backpack, for the young man to remember that he needed to move. "Hey, that might even be Jim on the phone. Calling me." Blair’s fuzzy brain was making comprehension an interesting proposition. Recognizing that he wasn’t going to be able to get the phone with his hands, Blair decided to try another tactic. The young Shaman laid back down on the ground as much as he could, with his restrained arms pulled out until the cuffs were digging into his bare wrists. He stretched his left leg out, trying to reach the strap of his backpack. He strained and twisted, making the handcuffs dig into his wrists. The fragile skin there tore, but Blair kept trying. He knew that if he gave up, the odds on his surviving out here in the cold, wet and windy day were minimal. Angling himself differently, Blair strained towards the objective of his backpack and his jacket. Inside the jacket was his Swiss Army Knife. He’d picked handcuff locks before. Bare toes skimmed the edge of the nylon, but no matter how he reached, his cold toes couldn’t get enough purchase to pull it towards him. The jacket lay even further away; both enticingly just out of reach. Blair pulled himself back up, panting at his exertions. Warm air puffed out of his mouth, connecting with the much colder air outside of his lungs and created a foggy cloud around his head. The younger man shivered violently in the cold rain that continued to drip down. He jumped, startled, when the nearby streetlight came on as the sun finally ended its work for the day. He looked around for a cop or even a civilian. Heck, he would have been happy to see most anybody at this point. But the parking lot was deserted. "HELP!" The cry was weaker than it needed to be to attract any attention. This end of the parking lot was deserted at the best of times and now, with the unusually cold and snowy weather, it was desolate. Frigid air was sucked down into Blair’s lungs, burning them with the cold. Blair gasped in pain and started to cough. That pulled in more cold air and made him cough even harder, which in turn made his head feel like it was being pulled in two. The Guide tucked his face into the crook of his arm, trying to shield his lungs from the colder air. It helped a little and in a few minutes his breathing was under control. The phone stopped ringing and Blair mourned the loss of hope, while at the same time he reveled in the end of the incessant ringing that was making his head ache even worse. Jim was getting ready to try Blair’s cell phone again when the first call came in. He grabbed the phone up, ready to alternately yell at Blair for worrying him like this and ready to race out and help his presumably stranded lover. "Ellison." "Your life is about to become Hell." Jim stood up, startled by the unfamiliar voice. "What do you mean and who the hell is this?" Harsh laughter emanated from the phone and Jim jerked the earpiece away with a pained hiss as the loud sound assaulted his Sentinel sensitive ears. The phone went dead as the call was abruptly ended. "Jim, what’s wrong?" The Sentinel looked at his Captain, who was standing in the doorway of his office with a worried frown. Simon had been watching his friend through the windows in his office. He and Joel had watched as Jim became more and more worried about their favorite observer. They had seen Jim jump up and had come to investigate, more worried than ever about Blair. "I don’t know, sir. There was a woman on the line. I recognized something about her voice…" Jim’s voice trailed off as he tried to figure out the connection. But without Blair there to ground him, he couldn’t go deeply enough into his sense memories. "…but I can’t quite place it. She told me that my life was about to become Hell." Friends and co-workers exchanged uneasy glances. Jim ignored them and punched in the number of Blair’s cell phone again.It was number one on the speed dial. The Sentinel was worried, no he was scared. Making his life a living hell meant hurting somebody he loved and there was no one more important in his life right now than Blair. Blair opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the jungle again; the blue shaded one where the Guide had ended up when the insane Sentinel, Alex Barnes murdered him. It was the place where he and Jim’s spirit guides had merged. "Oh wow!" Blair was thrilled. Jim had experienced several of these dream visits since his abilities came on line, but this was still really new to the younger man. The young shaman looked around in wonder. The lush jungle was warm and teeming with wildlife that he could hear and occasionally see through the foliage. Dense forest growth crowded in on the area where he was laying. Blair stood up, leaning against a fallen log to help himself, and made a pleasant discovery. He could see hands and as he glanced down…yes, legs and feet. The young man realized that this time he was still himself. He had retained his human body instead of taking on a wolf form. He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Running through the forest with free abandon sounded exhilarating, but then so did being able to talk. "Hello. Is anyone out there?" The raucous jungle sounds abruptly stopped at the sound of his hushed voice. Blair stayed quiet, not liking the oppressive silence. After several, long minutes, his patience was rewarded and the call of birds and other wildlife crept back in. He looked around, but didn’t see anybody else. It appeared that he was all alone in this jungle world. Blair wondered what he should do. The last time he had been here, he’d acted on his animal instincts. This time he was all human. There was a faint, but discernable path he could make out, wandering through the bushes and trees. Blair decided to follow it, since he didn’t know what else to do. He started to walk along the trail and was happily surprised to realize that he wasn’t cold…or wet. After walking for an indeterminate amount of time, the young Guide realized that he had acquired a companion. He looked down and saw a grey wolf. His spirit guide. "Hello boy." Blair deliberately kept his voice lower and was pleased to see that the wildlife wasn’t disturbed into stillness this time. The wolf stopped walking and looked up inquiringly at Blair, its dark eyes looking deep into Blair’s dark blue ones. "Am I dead?" The wolf jumped up on its hind legs and pushed at Blair’s chest with his paws. The young man stumbled backwards a step, but wasn’t afraid. He trusted that his spirit guide would never hurt him. The wolf turned and started running down a side path. It stopped after a few yards and looked back at the anthropologist who was still standing there. The lupine waited patiently for Blair to follow him. "Okay, boy. I’m coming." The Guide laughed happily as he walked, then trotted and finally raced after his furry friend. Here he had his human form, but could still run like the wolf. Beside him, the wolf made a barking, laughing sound, joining in Blair’s happiness. "What’s your name, boy?" Apparently running in the spirit realm didn’t hamper your ability to breathe at the same time. Blair felt strong and full of energy. The grey wolf looked over at Blair, it seemed tireless too. "Woof." "Woof, huh. Okay, Woof it is." Blair was joking, but the animal leapt into the air happily, so Blair changed his mind. "You like that, don’t you." The young Guide laughed. "Okay, I christen you Woof." The two free spirits enjoyed their innocent frolic. Blair felt happy and calm, outside worries and fears faded away. There was a screech off to one side and Blair slowed to a stop in order to investigate. This cry sounded different than the rest of the noise in the jungle, more insistent somehow. The wolf sat down to wait good-naturedly, his pink tongue lolling to one side. Blair walked over to a bush and bent over to peer inside. He felt compelled to see what was hidden there. "Hello there." A small body bounded forward, its diminutive face pushing through the foliage. The momentum caused the small animal to fall halfway out of the bush. It was startled and screeched, only to go ahead with its leap. It jumped and landed in Blair’s arms. By now, both of them were startled. Man and monkey stared at each other in shock. It was a monkey, one that looked a lot like Larry, the Barbary ape from so long ago. Well, almost like Larry. However, unlike Blair’s former research project, this animal was smaller and he was dressed in a little bright red suit and cap. That was certainly a change from the rest of the world that was varying shades of blue. Except…Blair glanced down and realized that the wolf wasn’t blue like everything else, but grey instead. The young man was surprised that he hadn’t noticed that before. Of course, he was still a little woozy from the blow to his head in the real world. "So, are you a spirit guide too?" Blair glanced around uneasily, losing some of his hard won comfort. He had never seen any spirit guides other than Woof and Jim’s panther. The last time Jim had seen another spirit guide was when Alex Barnes came creeping around. "I hope there aren’t any more evil Sentinels waiting to attack." He rubbed the back of his head, remembering the painful lump. His eyes tracked around the bright forest wearily, before he commented ruefully. "Or maybe one already has attacked." The tiny monkey chittered at him and reached up a tiny paw to touch his cheek. It tilted its head as Blair was studied carefully. Blair ran a hand down the monkey’s surprisingly soft fur. "Well, you certainly don’t seem evil." The small animal gazed at Blair intently. After a few moments of staring at each other, Blair laughed. "Well, that was interesting. So, what should I call you, hmmm?" The monkey just looked at him. Evidently it couldn’t give him a clue the way Woof had. Or maybe it just didn’t care. "How about….Raja?" The name just popped into the anthropologist’s head. Raja liked his new name if the way he was jumping up and down on Blair’s arm was any indication. "Okay, Raja it is." The wolf plainly became impatient with their lack of progress, or lack thereof, down the path. He came over and took Blair’s wrist in its mouth. It didn’t hurt; the animal’s teeth just barely grazed his wrist, never breaking the skin. Woof looked up at Blair and began tugging. "Okay boy, I get the message. Let’s play follow the leader." The lupine let go of Blair’s arm and trotted off. Blair and the little monkey dutifully followed the wolf along the winding path. Raja bounded from Blair’s arms and took to the trees, soaring from branch to branch, high above Blair’s head. Blair laughed again at the freedom exhibited by the spirit animals and took off running after his new found friends. It wasn’t long before they came to a clearing. At least, Blair didn’t think it had been very long. In the spirit realm it might have been five minutes or it could have been 2 hours. The clearing had an ancient looking stone temple in the middle of it. The monkey dropped to the ground and went to stand by the wolf. Blair looked around, the anthropologist in him rising up at the sight of the ancient ruins. It looked comparable to the Temple of the Sentinels that he had seen in Sierra Verde. Similar, yet at the same time completely different. Instead of one, large panther statue, there were several smaller statues dotting the walkway. There was a wolf and a monkey, but there were statues of birds and other animals as well. Out of the foliage behind him, a brightly patterned bird flew past Blair, flapping its wings past his head. The majestic bird glided up the stairs to land on the stone floor of the temple. The young man watched in awe as the bird began to morph; the bright colors bleeding into one another and forming into war paint. The bird kept moving, changing and twisting until it reformed back into… "Incacha." Blair stared at the long dead Chopec shaman. He knew that Jim had seen Incacha’s spirit on several occasions, but this was the first time for him. "Welcome, young shaman." "You-you’re speaking English." Blair’s shaky voice betrayed his nervousness. It was one thing to hear about ghosts and spirits, it was another thing entirely to see them, especially when you weren’t exactly certain of whereyou were on the mortal plane. Incacha smiled down at him. "No, young one, I am speaking the language of the earth. You hear it as English because that is what you know." "So, if I were French, that’s what I’d hear." The dead shaman nodded his head and smiled, pleased that Blair had understood the concept so quickly. "Well done young Blair. Most who come here don’t figure that out as easily. You are a true Guide, a true shaman." "Thank you." Blair sighed. "I don’t feel very shamanistic." "That is because you must learn the way of the shaman." Blair bit his lip nervously. "What do you mean?" Incacha smiled reassuringly. "You must seek out others and learn how to be a shaman. Let them teach you what to do. Once you have the knowledge you will be better able to assist your Sentinel. Better able to lead him." Blair’s widened in surprise at the idea of his leading Jim anywhere. "It is true. Without the Guide, the Sentinel is not complete. He or she is alone and therefore vulnerable. Enquiri needs your guidance and your support." The anthropologist was speechless, not something that happened every day. "How do I find these teachers?" "Don’t worry, you will know them when you find them." Blair rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Could you be any more cryptic?" Incacha laughed. "Let them help you." He gestured behind Blair to the two animals sitting there. Blair looked from the monkey and his wolf back to Incacha. "Does this mean I havetwo spirit guides now?" The dead shaman just smiled enigmatically as the blue jungle faded away. …the blue jungle faded away as Blair’s cell phone began to ring again, the noise bringing him out of his self-induced trance. The pain in Blair’s head and the cold of his entire body was a shock to the young man after the warmth of the jungle. He shuddered as the cold spread, seeping deeper and deeper into his skin. Blair moved his arms, trying to get into a more comfortable position. The movement caused one hand to bang on the metal bumper. Pain shot through Blair’s cold hand and had the young man crying out; he wrapped himself around the throbbing digits, trying to shelter his red hands. "jim." Blair’s faint voice didn’t travel any further than the end of the truck before a gust of wind blew it back. The young man curled tighter in on himself as the wind cut through his wet clothes. He huddled around the bumper, endeavoring, in vain, to stay warm. They were better prepared when Jim’s phone rang this time. Joel was sitting in Blair’s chair, his cell phone in hand. As soon as the echo of the first ring stopped, he was calling technical support to have the call traced. Jim waited for two more rings, giving the technician a chance to get ready. It was hard to wait, painful almost. He picked up the handset and then pushed a button putting the call on the speaker phone, so the rest of Blair’s friends could hear it. "Ellison." The strain in Jim’s voice seemed to amuse the caller. It was the same woman, with an unusual accent that no one could place. "Hello again…detective." "What do you want?" Again the laugh. "Why, I want you to suffer…forever." Jim’s jaw muscle twitched as he clenched his teeth. "And who are you lady? What have I ever done to you?" Precious seconds were added to the search as the woman on the other end of the line was quiet. Jim let the silence stretch on, hoping that she would betray herself in her anger. "I just love the year 1969." She laughed, a cold, calculating laugh. "I hear you really like it too." With that, the presumed kidnapper hung up. The dial tone emanating from the speaker was the only noise in the usually loud bullpen. For a moment suspended in time there was nothing…and then chaos erupted and the personnel in Major Crimes went crazy. "Jim?" Simon’s voice was quiet, for once. "Damn." Joel snapped the phone shut. "There wasn’t enough time to get a trace on the call." "Uh, I don’t get the reference to 1969." Megan looked at the assembled officers. "That’s the year Blair was born." Simon answered. No one said anything for a moment. They were struck dumb at the thought of Blair being in trouble again. "H, Rafe!" Both men jumped up at Simon’s yell. "Start calling all over for Blair; anywhere you can think of. Hell, look for places you can’t think of. Just because this nut case is implying she has him, doesn’t mean it’s true." The two detectives raced over to their desks and began calling any place Blair might be. They tried the courthouse where the Sentinel had been testifying, just in case Blair had gone there looking for Jim. They checked the hospitals and morgues. The latter they did as quietly as possible, even though they knew Jim could hear them. "Taggart! Start going through old case files. See if you can find any cases where there were foreign women in the mix." The large captain glanced over at Megan. "You and I will help him." "We shouldn’t concentrate just on the foreign women, Captain." Rafe explained to Simon. "She could be faking her accent." They all nodded as they heard Rafe’s just barely there accent. At times it disappeared completely. There was also the fact that Megan, with her thick Australian accent, could make it vanish at will, as she had done on occasion. The two captains began pulling up files on the computer, wishing Blair and his computer skills were there to help. That was ironic, of course, because if Blair were there they wouldn’t need him. For the moment, Megan Connor, Inspector from Australia and now a Major Crimes detective, ignored her captain’s orders and went over to stand by Jim. The oblivious Sentinel was still clutching the receiver. His head was tilted to one side as he tried to listen for Blair. Megan placed one hand on his bare forearm, trying to prevent a zone out. The Sentinel twitched his shoulders irritably. He didn’t like someone strange touching him. It didn’t matter that he knew and trusted Megan. His head might recognize a friend and colleague, but his heart was only telling him ‘No, this wasn’t his Guide’. Jim knew that his Guide was Blair and only Blair should be touching him like that. Ignoring his unease, Jim allowed the touch to continue and extended his hearing outwards. The sound of the wind blowing outside acted like a white noise generator and hampered him. Jim looked over at her with devastated eyes. "I can’t find him." "Well…" Megan thought quickly. She needed to give Ellison some hope or he was going to fall apart when they needed him most. "…at least we know he’s not in the building." At the incredulous look Jim gave her, she continued. "That’s one less place we have to look." Ellison nodded slowly and the two friends went to help look through files. The rattling of the handcuff chains against the metal of the truck was annoying Blair, not that there was anything he could do about it. He was shaking so hard with the cold that he couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it. Blair had turned himself so that his body was partially under the front of Jim’s truck. That protected his lower extremities from the wind and rain, at least a little. Blair had curled himself around the bumper of Jim’s truck, reasoning that the metal would have some residual heat from the sun. His hands were tucked between his body and the bumper of the truck. "I-I don’t wa-ant t-to l-l-l-l-lose my-y finger-r-r-s, m-m-m-man." The young man had stopped trying to brush off the snow flakes that had begun to fall shortly after he came back from the jungle. It didn’t do any good and made his hands hurt all the worse. Besides, there was a possibility that the snow might act like insulation. He knew that plants were often protected from freezing temperatures by a covering of snow. It was too bad that his body didn’t see it that way. Blair’s feet had stopped hurting a little while ago and he knew that was a bad sign. Also a bad sign was the fact that his shaking was slowing down. The shaman knew death was a very real possibility and wondered if Incacha hadn’t gotten it wrong after all. How was he supposed to become a shaman if he froze to death in the police parking lot? His eyes closed and despite his best efforts to stay awake and moving, the young man passed out. His body slid sideways to land halfway on the ground. "No, no, no. Maya’s accent is completely different. The caller is not Hispanic, she sounds more…Asian." Jim frowned as he considered if that sounded right or not. For some reason the kidnapper’s inflection reminded him of Asia. "Besides, Maya was deported. She’s not allowed back in the country and I’ve had a buddy of mine keeping an eye on her. As of yesterday she was still in Chile." His friends tossed that file aside, dismissing Maya Carasco as unimportant. The phone on Jim’s desk rang again and they all tensed. It was unlikely that the kidnapper would stay on line long enough for the call to be traced this time, but they had to try. "Ellison." Jim’s voice was strained. His hands were gripping the receiver so tightly that Simon expected it to crack any second. The muscle in Jim’s jaw was working overtime as was the vein in his temple. "Well, hello again." Jim skipped over the pleasantries. "Where is he?" The woman just laughed. "How do I even know you have him?" "Hmmm, well…how about this, he has on the cutest little pair of red plaid, flannel boxers. What a lovely…impression they make." Ellison gasped. He could see Blair this morning pulling on the underwear. "If you’ve hurt him…" Jim didn’t get a chance to finish, before she interrupted. "Stupid man, of course we hurt him." Her voice was cutting, for the first time she let her anger show through. "That’s the whole idea." "What do you want?" "You to suffer." Her reply caused several people to wince. They knew what Blair’s abduction was doing to them. They could only imagine the anguish it was causing Ellison. Over the telephone line, music began playing. It was a Christmas song. The kidnapper began humming with the music and then started to sing. "….let it snow, let it snow." Joel stood to one side of the squad room, so she wouldn’t hear him through the speaker. He was gesturing animatedly as he talked. Hanging up the phone, he scribbled a note and handed it to Simon. The number’s a clone. There’s no way to trace it. Simon crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the trash angrily. He looked up and saw that Jim was watching him. From the look on the Sentinel’s face, he had read the note with his Sentinel vision. A low growl issued from Jim’s throat. "Oh, I see you’ve traced my call. Too bad that you can’t find me. Now you have to rely on me to find your precious Mr. Sandburg." "Look, it’s me that you want, so why don’t we make a trade. Me for Sandburg." "What an interesting offer Detective. Maybe next time." Jim blinked several times before he grabbed up a pen and scribbled a note on the edge of a file folder. He shoved the folder at Simon, who passed it to Joel. Dad and Steven. Again Joel retreated to the other side of the room to start calling. If the kidnapper was already talking about next time, then Jim’s father and brother needed to be found. She was snickering. "Some great detectives you are." She laughed derisively. "Oh, all right, I’ll give you a little hint. 1969. 1969...what a great year…for all sorts of things." The Sentinel frowned as she disconnected. "Why does she keep mentioning the year 1969?" The normally unflappable Rafe kicked at the corner of his desk. "That’s when Hairboy was born." H repeated softly. "Yeah, I know, but why keep harping on it?" "1969! Oh my god!" Jim gasped and dropped the phone as realization hit him. He raced over to one of the windows and used his Sentinel vision to find his truck, his 1969 truck. Zeroing in, he could see Blair’s Volvo. Frantically, Jim looked around the two vehicles, hoping to find some sign of his missing lover. Jim could see the faint ruffle of Blair’s curly hair. Piggybacking his sense of hearing with his sense of sight, Ellison listened and could finally hear a heartbeat. Blair’s weak voice pulled Jim in. "jim." Jim spun around and ran across the room, yelling over his shoulder. "He’s by my truck!" The majority of Major Crimes raced down the stairs and outside, Jim leading the way. Rhonda was one of the few who stayed behind, calling for an ambulance. Rafe kept his head and took the time to stop at a supply locker to grab up several thermal blankets. Jim kept his senses wide open, not caring about the possible danger of a sensory overload. Now that he knew where to look and listen, he could hear Blair’s precious heartbeat. However, it was much too slow and his lover’s breathing sounded labored. "let it snow." Jim muttered as he remembered the Christmas song the woman had quoted. Snow flakes drifted gently down from a black sky. They swirled hazily under the street lights. A beautiful sight, unless you were trapped in it. As they exited the building, the rescuers stayed together. Before long, the line of people stretched out. There was a skift of snow on the ground. Not much, to be sure. Cascade never had very much in the way of snow. But there was just enough to make running treacherous. At one point, H slipped on the wet concrete and would have fallen, but Megan caught his arm and steadied him until the detective got his feet back under him. Henri nodded his thanks to the Australian woman and they continued on. The knot of people slowly became unraveled as they raced across the parking lot. Bitterly cold air and biting wind slowed down even the most determined of rescuers. So when Blair was finally rescued, Jim was the only one there. The young man was huddled against the bumper of the truck. His curly brown hair was almost white it was so covered with snow from the unexpected cold front that had come down from Canada. Laying across the Shaman’s feet was Blair’s spirit guide, the grey wolf. Jim saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and turned his head quickly, but didn’t see what was there. When he looked back, the wolf was gone. "Chief!" Jim ran to his lover, raising him up and getting the pressure off his straining arms. "Blair!" There wasn’t a response from the figure lying half against the truck and half on the ground. Jim’s heart clenched in his chest when he saw how close to a puddle Blair had been when he passed out; it would have been so easy for Blair to have drowned in that shallow bit of water. Flashes of the fountain and Blair floating in it passed through the Sentinel’s mind. He clutched Blair tighter in response. The Sentinel brushed damp curls back from Blair’s face. The young man’s lips were tinged with blue and already cracked. His face was very pale, except for his cheeks and nose that were a dark, ruddy color. Along one side of Blair’s head was a nasty looking gash. It had bled enough that Blair’s t-shirt was pink on that side. "Oh my god, Sandy!" Ellison didn’t even spare the Australian inspector a glance. Blair had all his attention at the moment. Jim carefully eased Blair’s arms off the front of the truck, one inch at a time. He was relieved when nothing stuck to the cold surface. The last thing the younger man needed was to lose any skin because it had been frozen to the metal. "Let’s get these off him." Megan’s accent was thicker than ever, as it tended to be when she was upset. The detective pulled out her keys and uncuffed Blair’s hands. Jim held on to the young man’s arms, so they wouldn’t fall when they were released. He knew that the cold would make any touch that much more painful. Under the handcuffs, Blair’s wrists were cut and bruised from when Blair tried to escape. There was not very much blood though; his body was too cold to even bleed properly. That was the only thing that prevented Blair from bleeding to death because of his head injury. Scalp wounds, even minor one’s, tended to bleed profusely. If Blair hadn’t been almost frozen, he probably would have died hours earlier. Jim hooked an arm under Blair’s knees and pulled the young man’s body out from under the truck. Simon arrived in time to see this part of Blair’s rescue. He gasped when he saw Blair’s very pale feet and hands. His legs and arms were losing color as well, a sure sign of frostbite. "Damn it! How long has he been out here?" "At least four hours. That’s when the first call came in." Megan and Simon exchanged worried glances. Blair was all but naked and had been out in the cold, wet night for hours. A strong wind blew across the group of friends and they shivered. And not just from the cold. Jim buried his face in Blair’s wet hair. He stiffened perceptibly and pulled back. He sniffed at the long curls and growled softly. "Jim, what is it?" "I can smell somebody in his hair." Another sniff. "I can smell somebody all over his body." The Sentinel looked at the Australian woman and his captain. "Someone pawed him." There was another growl, a pair of them actually. Jim was shocked out of his anger when Megan and Simon growled at the new information. Still out of breath from his run across the parking lot, Rafe dropped to the ground beside Jim’s truck, unworried about the possible damage to his expensive suit. He slid one of the silvery thermal blankets underneath Blair as Jim lifted him up. It was not easy going, as Blair’s body was limp; his arms hanging loose at his side. Rafe tried to help with the awkward process. He slid his arms under Blair so Jim could pull the blankets through. Then Rafe straightened them out as Jim again supported his lover. The younger detective touched Blair on the arm. "At least he’s not stiff." H punched his partner on the arm at Rafe’s apparent lack of taste. Rafe pushed H away in irritation. "No, not that. I mean, he’s not dangerously hypothermic…yet. When you are, the skin gets rigid. Blair’s not rigid, so we still have time." Jim ignored the conversation going on around him and tugged Blair into his lap. He held the young man to his chest, making sure his ice-covered hands were trapped between them. Ellison was hoping that the shared body heat would start to warm Blair up. Megan pulled off her scarf and with H’s help, wrapped the warm knitted material around Blair’s painfully frozen feet. The two detectives were careful not to rub his feet, because they knew that doing so could damage them. Friends and fellow rescuers arrived and started pulling off their jackets and coats. They piled them on top of the helpless observer. The injured young man was protected from the fierce wind, by the people standing around. Their combined body heat, in such close proximity, warmed the air marginally. Blair moaned and stirred weakly in Jim’s arms. "Chief." Jim watched Blair’s face intently. He could hear Blair’s heart rate increase and knew his lover was trying to come around. "Come on Chief. Wake up for me." Blair’s face shifted a little as he tried to scrunch it up. He couldn’t though, the skin was locked in place because of the frigidity of his skin. The Guide twisted in Jim’s arms and he moaned again. Slowly, Blair opened his eyes and looked up at Jim. Jim was ecstatic, until the anthropologist’s eyes quickly reclosed. "Chief, can you look at me again? Please. I need to see you." Blair shook his head slowly. "hurts." Simon and Megan shared a worried look over Jim’s head. Their friend sounded confused and childlike; they were afraid Blair’s head injury was worse than it looked. "It hurts to open your eyes?" Blair nodded imperceptibly. Only a Sentinel would have felt the movement at all and no one else could see it. "cold." "The cold hurts your eyes?" Eyes scrunched tightly closed, Blair nodded absently. "uh huh." Jim tucked Blair’s head back into his shoulder, in a further attempt to shield him. Joel dropped down beside the group, just in time to hear Blair’s admission. The larger man pulled his gloves off and placed his warm hands over Blair’s cold, hurting eyes. "I’ll protect you, Chief." The young man slumped as he slipped back into unconsciousness, safe with his lover. Jim was about to carry Blair back into the precinct when the ambulance arrived.