Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dr. Samuel Bassett scanned the headlines on the news website to which he had a subscription. He faithfully looked each and every day - morning, noon and night - searching for any clues to the whereabouts of Simon Molinar and Joseph McKay. Time was running out, Bassett knew. He had to find them very soon or it would be too late.

Bassett clicked through page after page until he stopped on the information provided by The Cascade Post. There, right on the front page and in vivid living color was Joe McKay. Bassett's eyes grew wide and he quickly read the caption.

Cascade's Finest. Detective James Ellison (right) and his partner, Detective Blair Sandburg.

Underneath the picture and caption, Bassett quickly scanned the article explaining how the detectives helped capture a kidnapper and saved two twelve-year old boys who had been missing. Bassett sat back and nodded with satisfaction. Finally! Now I have you, McKay. Still up to your Boy Scout ways, I see. Bassett snickered, picked up the phone, and began making arrangements.

Detective Blair Sandburg clicked off the cell phone and smiled. He'd be home in thirty minutes and Jim had promised a bowl of homemade chicken-noodle soup with grilled cheddar cheese sandwiches. He was starving and cold; comfort food sounded wonderful. Blair laughed out loud. Hell, Jim Ellison, his lover of two years, was wonderful. He fussed over his Guide and partner like nothing Blair had ever known in a lover before. Just thinking about Jim made him grin foolishly and made his body respond to the thoughts of his lover touching him, loving him, making him scream his name in the heat of passion.

Blair quickly refocused and looked around. He hated this part of the highway. There were no streetlights and in the rain it looked downright ominous. Just as he drove under the overpass, his headlights picked up an older brown car sitting alongside the road. He instantly took in the situation: the old lady crouched on the ground trying to put the jack under the back bumper of the car and the flat tire. Blair sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn't drive by and leave the senior citizen stranded on a cold, rainy night, so he pulled over, leaving the engine running and the headlights on. It was dark and freezing, and he had no desire to return to a cold car. Besides, he figured he needed the light to see that flat tire.

The woman rose when Blair approached and she held the tire iron in her hand like a weapon. Blair threw up his hands. "Whoa. Just a second, please. I'm here to help. If you like, I can show you some ID. I'm a detective with the Cascade Police Department."

After a careful perusal of Blair's face, she lowered her arm slightly. "Show me the ID."

Blair slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled out the black leather wallet. He flipped it open, revealing his gold badge and picture identification. The woman leaned forward and peered at the photo in the glare of the headlights. She straightened back up and lowered her arm. "Okay."

Blair nodded. "Cool. Now let's get that tire changed so we can both go home."

The woman started to hand Blair the tire iron, but she was distracted when a large black van pulled up behind Blair's Volvo. The van moved close enough to his car's bumper to effectively trap it between the woman's and the van.

Blair walked toward the van, intending to ask the driver to move. When the driver's door opened, he stopped, instantly cautious. His hand reached for his pistol in its shoulder holster but then he mentally shrugged. Surely the driver had seen the cars and stopped to offer assistance. A tall, dark-haired man jumped out. "Do you folks need help?" he asked pleasantly. Blair relaxed. It was apparently just as he thought, another Good Samaritan.

"I got it, man. Just a flat tire. It won't take but a few..." Blair turned to wave his hand at the woman's flat tire when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. The stranger had stealthily crossed the few feet separating them but before Blair could react, he had pressed an injection gun against the side of Blair's neck and clicked the trigger.

Blair felt the sharp pinch and he jumped back. "Get the fuck away from me!" he yelled. The man made no effort to touch Blair, but stood back quietly watching him. Blair's hand had flown to his neck and he growled, "What did you give me?" Still the man remained silent. It took barely a few moments before Blair felt himself sinking to his knees. The world tilted and his eyes closed. Before he lapsed into unconsciousness, he managed to mutter a single word. "Jim!"

An older white-haired man watched the proceedings from the front passenger seat in the van. When Blair collapsed, he opened his door and quickly went to where he lay.

"Put him in the van and do it carefully!" he admonished harshly. "He is very important."

The assistant nodded and pulled Blair to his feet. The man dropped to one knee and let Blair's body fall over his shoulder. Then he carried the unconscious man to the back of the van and carefully dropped him on an old blanket. He slammed the door close and tested the lock. Satisfied that the door was secure, he went over to the lady's car and swiftly changed the flat tire.

Dr. Samuel Bassett pulled his wallet from his pocket while he walked toward the old lady. He pulled out three one hundred-dollar bills and when he reached the woman, he pressed the money into her hand.

"Thank you so much for your assistance, my dear lady," he purred. "Now that I've located my daughter's ex-husband, I will finally be able to locate my missing granddaughter. She's only five and when her father took her from us, it was devastating for the entire family. These last few months have been so upsetting and I know that my daughter will be eternally grateful for your help."

"You're more than welcome, Mr. Smith. I can't tell you how much I need this money for my medicine. My check just doesn't cover expenses any more." She sighed tiredly and practically snatched the money from Dr. Bassett's hand.

He nodded sympathetically. While the assistant finished changing the tire, Dr. Bassett pulled another bill from his pocket. "For your prescription, my dear."

"Thank you," she said with tears in her eyes. "Good luck finding your granddaughter. I have three of my own, you know."

Dr. Bassett patted the woman's arm and gently guided her to her car. He opened the door and helped her in. "Good evening and God bless."

"Thank you," she repeated yet again and after dabbing her wet eyes, she drove off.

Dr. Bassett rolled his eyes and made his way to the van. In moments, they sped off into the night, leaving the Volvo still running with its lights on, alone and abandoned alongside the dark highway.

Jim Ellison stood at the counter in his kitchen, slicing cheddar cheese into precise pieces, when the knife slipped and cut his finger.

"Ouch," he cried. "Damn it anyway." He went into the bathroom and after rinsing and inspecting the small cut, put an adhesive bandage on it. Jim flicked off the light and went back to the kitchen, intending to finish the sandwiches, when something unsettling hit his psyche. He swayed and put one hand on the counter, running the other over his face. He leaned on the counter holding on with both hands and breathed in and out several times before doing an internal scan to see if he could detect the problem. He cleared his mind and opened his thoughts to his Guide.

"Blair!" Jim whispered. With that single word, he raced to the door, grabbed his coat, cell phone and keys, and in seconds clattered down three flights of stairs and out into the rainy night. Jim cranked the Ford and automatically retraced Blair's route home. He hit his cell and when a gruff voice answered, Jim barked, "Something's happened to Blair. I'm tracing his route home. It's been about twenty minutes. Piedmont to Route 24 to Prospect." He cut the connection before Simon could respond, needing his focus to remain on his Guide.

Jim saw the Volvo's headlights from a distance and heard its engine sputtering just as it ran out of gas. He panicked and drove his truck across two lanes of oncoming traffic, luckily missing the vehicles headed toward him, and skidded to a wet, screeching halt, bumper to bumper with the smaller vehicle. He jumped out and stood very still for a few moments, knowing immediately that Blair was not in the vicinity. He finally forced his terrified body to move and he leaned into the Volvo without touching anything, doing a minute Sentinel examination. By the time Simon and a patrol car had arrived about six minutes later, Jim had sniffed, tasted, inspected and listened to every square inch of the car, but nothing unusual or different touched his sensitive senses. No one but Blair had been in his car, Jim knew.

Simon raced to Jim's side, his face distressed. "Anything?"

Jim stood and with a look of utter despair whispered, "Nothing." With one word he conveyed his agony and Simon didn't even think to question his findings. Rather, he yanked out his cell and put an APB out on his missing detective. Next, he instructed the patrol officers to have the car towed to police impound. He watched Jim when he walked up and down the road, oblivious to the pouring rain.

Jim focused intently. He dialed everything up to maximum and blocked out the traffic, Simon, and the other officers. He scanned the ground for a hundred yards either side of Blair's car and after a good thirty minutes, had found absolutely nothing. The rain had effectively washed away any evidence that might have existed. Whoever had taken Blair hadn't laid a finger on his car and had obviously managed to snatch him without leaving a trace. Even with his Sentinel senses turned up, he detected no residual blood belonging to his partner. For this small favor, he breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Simon's side.

"You're freezing, Jim. Let's go and get some coffee." Simon put a large hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I have to find him."

"We have to find him," Simon corrected. "Let's go. I'll drive." Simon instructed one of the patrol officers to bring Jim's truck to the station and with a firm hand on the Sentinel's elbow, he led Jim to his car. He started the engine and turned on the heat. "You have a change of clothes in your locker, Jim?" He looked over at his detective, who sat stonily and silent. "Jim? Done zone on me here, buddy. Sandburg wouldn't like it."

Jim shivered and turned blank eyes to Simon. "I have a change in my locker," he said lifelessly.

Simon pulled out into traffic carefully. "Jim, come on. It's been just a short while. They couldn't have gotten far. We'll find him."

Jim stared out the front window during the drive to the station. He climbed out of the car the second they parked and headed toward Major Crime. Simon pushed the elevator button to the third floor and with a growl, he ordered, "Dry clothes, Jim. Sandburg would have my ass if you get sick." At Jim's hesitation, he added, "Now."

Jim nodded curtly and stepped from the elevator. In the locker room he changed quickly and was in Simon's office ten minutes later drinking the hot coffee that his friend had pressed into his hand.

Simon cradled the phone and looked serious. "Nothing yet. Damn, what the hell happened? You guys aren't on any big case and nobody's out for your ass these days, Jim. Who could have done this?"

Jim carefully set his cup on the edge of Simon's desk and looked around. He held up his hand, requesting silence. Simon complied, puzzled. After Jim made a thorough sensory scan, he finally spoke.

"I don't detect any surveillance equipment."

Simon's eyebrows shot up. "What? Jim, what the fuck is going on?"

Jim looked into Simon's concerned brown eyes and said through clenched teeth, "I know who took Blair."

Simon rose. "Why didn't you say? Who is it? Where have they taken him?"

Jim rose and crossed his arms, silent and stoic. When he offered no further information, Simon couldn't decide whether to be angry or even more upset.

"Jim?" he asked quietly.

Cold blue eyes met brown. "It's a long story, Simon. Blair has a twin brother. An identical twin brother who happens to carry an unusual gene in his DNA. Blair also has it. This makes them both important to a very evil man. He's got Blair."

Simon shook his head, trying to grasp the words. "A twin brother? An unusual gene? You'd better explain this to me in detail and start at the beginning."

"All I can say is that Blair has a brother. About four weeks ago, he called to say that they'd lost track of a guy named Bassett, who is the head doctor of a group known as The Delphi Project. Beyond that, Simon, I'm not getting you involved any further."

"What?" Simon barked in a surprised voice.

"Simon, the less you know, the safer you'll be. I can't drag you into this. I'll handle it."

"Fuck that, Ellison! Sandburg is my friend! You can't do this to me!"

Jim stood tall. "Sorry, Simon. I have to. I can't... I won't be responsible for your being hurt or killed." Jim turned and pulled the door open. "Simon, I have to do this alone. Please understand. Afterwards, if it all works out, I swear I'll let you know what's what, but for now..." Jim threw up his hands and shrugged. "That's the way it has to be." Jim quietly closed the door on his way out, leaving a confused and irritated captain.

Blair groaned softly and opened his heavy eyelids. His mouth was thick and pasty and his head throbbed. An almost pleasant voice spoke.

"Hello, Dr. McKay. It's about time you awoke. I was beginning to become worried."

Blair blinked, clearing his vision, and finally saw the older, white-haired man in a lab coat standing next to him. "What?" he whispered, confused. He tried to focus, but whatever drug he had been given had not cleared his system fully and he was shaky and had trouble concentrating.

"I was just mentioning how happy I was that you've awoken, Dr. McKay."

Blair started to speak, to tell the man that he didn't understand and that he wasn't Dr. McKay, when he focused enough to recognize the name. McKay. Joe. Oh, God. This was the doctor Joe had warned him about. Blair moaned and licked his dry lips. "Please..." he whispered.

"What do you desire, Doctor? Are you thirsty?" the man asked with concern.

"Yes," Blair croaked.

The man reached toward Blair's head and when Blair flinched, he said softly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Dr. McKay. I'm only adjusting the chair to make you more comfortable." He pressed a few of the buttons and automatically the chair moved from a flat to a reclining position. He fiddled with the leg rest for a while longer before asking, "Comfy?"

Blair stared wordlessly at the man and licked his lips again.

"Baker." The man curled a finger and from behind Blair's head a white-coated woman appeared beside him with a paper cup of water. She held the cup while he drank.

Blair drank quickly so that on the last gulp, he choked in his haste. He coughed and it was when he tried to raise his hand to wipe his mouth that he realized he was restrained. He looked down at his body and finally realized that he was sitting in a chair much like one a dentist would use. It had a steel body covered with brown leather. There were armrests of the same material and a metal footrest. Blair saw that his wrists were encircled with wide leather bands that held them firmly onto the armrests. His shocked eyes traveled down to his bare feet and he saw more straps holding his ankles to the metal grill of the footrest. Across his chest, just under his armpits, was another wide leather strap holding him securely in place. His clothes were gone and he was dressed in hospital scrubs. He started to struggle, but firm hands on his shoulders dug into his skin.

"Stop this at once, Dr. McKay, or you will be sedated."

Blair's heart rate escalated quickly and his breathing came in raspy gulps. Bassett turned to the small metal stand next to his elbow. Slowly and deliberately, he filled a syringe with a greenish liquid. He held the filled syringe in front of Blair's face and allowed a few drops to drip from the sharp tip. "Look at this, Dr. McKay. Either you calm down or you will be medicated!"

Blair's eyes finally registered the menacing-looking item and he froze for a few moments. His eyes closed and he slumped wordlessly against the back of the chair. He bit his lip before another moan could escape, and he tightly screwed his eyes close before the tears could fall.

"Baker, you may leave." The doctor waited until the assistant left the room before he turned his attention back to Blair. "Dr. McKay, we have limited time. Where is Simon?"

Blair ignored the question, knowing instantly to whom he was referring. Simon Molinar. This was the nightmare that his twin had warned him about, and now the nightmare had turned into reality. This man assumed that he was his brother and there was no way Blair would allow Joe to be harmed, or Simon for that matter. He remained silent.

Blair never moved when he heard the doctor's quiet 'tsk-tsk' as he fiddled with something on the small metal table. He heard a couple of soft clinks and it wasn't until he felt something cool and wet brush along the inside of his arm that he reacted. He shuddered and tried to pull away, but his reward was a sharp prick in his arm and he let out a small yelp.

In seconds, Blair felt light-headed and dizzy. His eyes fluttered involuntarily and his head lolled on his shoulders. He drooled out of the corner of his mouth and when his head flopped back, he grinned foolishly.

"Dr. McKay, tell me where Simon is this instant."

Blair opened droopy eyelids. "Oh, hey. Simon's in 'is offis, I'm sure." Blair chuckled. "He's 'mokin' those fuckin' ceeegars. Man, they stink!" Blair's eyes slid close. Hard fingers grabbed his chin and squeezed painfully, making tears gather in the corners of his eyes. "Stop!" he gasped. He tugged and bit his tongue. More tears gathered and fell, but the fingers dug harder.

"Look at me, Doctor!" his interrogator ordered.

Blair's blurry eyes fluttered open.

"Did you think that because you grew your hair longer that I wouldn't recognize you? Did you think that just because all this time had passed that I'd forgotten? Are you that foolish? You've been running around Cascade in full view! Now tell me where I can find Simon!"

The wet trails down Blair's face glittered in the harsh light. "I told ya, man. He's workin'!" Blair's head rolled forward then back. He glared at Bassett before another laugh burst out. "Then agin, he could be at home sleepin'. He works hard, ya know. Ask him yurself. Are you fuckin' stupid or what?"

"Where does he live, Dr. McKay? Where is Simon?"

Blair muttered, "Fuckin' idiot. Lives on Grant Street, you idiot!" he yelled before his head fell back. "Gonna be sick, man. Call S...Simon. He'll tell you him....self. Oh, man." Blair moaned and then hiccupped as the bile rose in his throat. He struggled to think clearly. Simon. He had to tell them about "his Simon", hoping that they would make a mistake and approach Simon Banks, thereby hopefully tipping off the intelligent police captain as to the whereabouts of his now-missing detective. Simon would know what to do. Simon would find him and he would look out for Jim.

A plastic bowl appeared and was held under his chin while Blair's stomach lurched and he retched feebly. Another cup of water was held to his lips and he took a few sips before moaning again and closing his eyes. "Leave me 'lone," he whispered.

Another sharp prick to his arm and he screamed. "Nonono, please," he begged, his head aching and his stomach rolling. Sweat dripped from his forehead and ran down his face, mingling with the tears of anger and distress.

"Dr. McKay, this will all be over quickly if you would tell me where Simon is! That's all I ask. You can't fight the drug, Doctor, and I have all day."

Blair bit his lip, drawing blood. He licked the salty fluid away and hissed, "I 'ready tol' you! Where he is ever' day! Now quit askin' me!"

"What is the address on Grant Street, Joe? Tell me and I'll let you sleep."

Through blood-shot eyes, Blair glared at the man. "954, you cocksucker."

"Really, Dr. McKay. Your grasp of the language is amazing." Bassett shrugged. "No matter. Soon Molinar will be mine as well." He rose and after glancing back at his captive with satisfaction, he slipped quietly from the room.

Bassett issued orders quickly. He sent a dozen commandos to 954 Grant with strict orders to capture Simon as undamaged as possible. He had Klemp head up the operation since he had been in on the original capture in Los Angeles. Bassett knew that Captain Klemp understood the ins and outs of catching a dangerous creature such as Molinar. He also knew that Klemp prided himself on running a smooth operation. The commandos quickly left on their mission.

Simon Banks was tired when he unlocked the front door to his modest two-bedroom ranch house. He needed a shower and a meal before he went back to the station. There would be no sleep until Blair Sandburg was found, in spite of Ellison's admonitions that he would find his partner on his own. Banks flicked on the hall light. The switch clicked, but nothing happened. Simon flipped the switch a couple more times before cursing softly. He made his way down the hallway and started to go into the kitchen to check the breaker box outside the back door, when a strong beam of light hit his eyes. He threw up his arm, momentarily blinded, and was grabbed on both sides forcefully. He grunted and struggled, but his arms were painfully twisted back and he was forced to his knees.

The light never left his face and a disembodied voice said, "Who the hell are you?"

Simon tipped his chin and remained silent. A hand searched through his pockets and pulled out his ID. A second light perused the captain's identification. "This isn't Molinar! Simon Banks? It's the wrong fucking Simon!"

"Should we kill him?" asked another masculine voice, and the sound of the automatic weapon being cocked echoed loudly in the quiet house.

"Stand down!" ordered the voice. "He's a police officer!"

Simon tried to see through the strong light, but his eyes watered and the next thing he felt was a hard thump on the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.

"Move out!" The commandos melted away into the night.

Jim Ellison drove slowly toward Simon Banks' house. He had just spent the last four or five hours canvassing the streets and alleys of Cascade for his partner, without success. He decided to check in with his Captain and hopefully get a cup of hot, strong coffee. His eyes felt gritty and his heart ached. He sighed deeply, a bit angry with himself for not wanting to go back to the empty loft. The thought of the space without his gregarious lover made him wince, and another deep flash of anger surged through his body. He would kill the bastards who touched his Guide. Sentinel instincts kicked in full gear and he did nothing to quell the feelings. In fact, he reveled in them.

Jim maneuvered the truck around the corner and onto Grant Street. The first thing he noticed was that all of the streetlights were out for two blocks in either direction and it was very dark. His Sentinel alarm bells went off immediately and he dialed up instantly. Jim cut the headlights and the engine quickly, and he coasted to the side of the road. He glanced toward Simon's house and saw several black shapes dash out the front door. They raced silently across the street and down an alley directly across from Simon's house. Jim saw that the figures were dressed in black from head to toe, with white crosses on their chests. They each carried automatic weapons with high-powered lanterns and night scopes clipped to the muzzles. He jumped out and raced toward Simon's house, pulling his pistol from behind his back. Jim extended his hearing and listened while a vehicle was started about a block away. The sound echoed in the alley and he heard the engine ignite and the fourth cylinder misfire when it drove away

Jim turned the handle once, but the door was locked. Not missing a beat, he raised a foot and smashed it into the door close to the handle, busting it in. The door slammed into the wall, knocking several pictures to the floor and making a huge hole where the knob lodged into the plaster.

Jim scrambled across the tile while he pulled his long-range hearing back in. He refocused, listening for Simon, and he heard the small moans and curses coming from the back of the house. He ran down the hall and found Simon climbing to his feet and rubbing the back of his head.

"Simon? You okay?" Jim asked while helping his friend to his feet.

"Yeah. Jim, could they be the ones who took Blair? One of them said, 'It's the wrong fucking Simon!'"

Jim stood, dazed for a moment, before he put the pieces together. Blair had apparently sent his kidnappers after Simon Banks instead of Simon Molinar, knowing that the captain would put two and two together and mount a rescue. This was their chance.

When Jim's mouth fell open and a look of realization crossed his face, Simon saw the expression and he pushed on Jim's shoulder. "Go! Follow them!"

Jim didn't speak, just nodded, turned, and pounded out of the house. He sprinted across the lawn to his truck. Simon followed and stopped in the doorway, yelling, "Don't do anything stupid! Just follow them and then call for backup! Ellison?"

Jim climbed into the truck and cranked the ignition. He rolled down the window and held up his cell, indicating that he'd heard Simon's directive and that he would call. He skid around the corner and into the alley. When he came out on Summerset, he stopped and listened intently, extending his hearing as far as possible. From his left, he heard the sound of the engine he had heard just moments before, running on seven cylinders instead of eight. Jim turned and raced into the night. He picked up the taillights of the van a mile and a half down the road. He turned out his headlights, dialed up his eyesight and followed stealthily.

The black van traveled about ten miles through the city and out of its borders until it reached an isolated, abandoned facility. Jim knew that this had once been the airport terminal for Cascade International before a newer, more modern facility had been built on the west side of town. There were at least five buildings and countless miles of corridors. The perfect place for some shadowy government agency to hunker down and do its worst.

The entire facility looked dark and deserted, but Jim knew better. He parked and crept through the tall grass to a small knoll that overlooked the buildings and grounds. While no lights shone, Jim knew that the place was a hive of activity. He dialed up his hearing, his best asset, and extended it over the buildings. He pinpointed the shuffling of feet. He heard the voices and the slamming of lockers. He heard showers running and toilets flushing. He heard food being eaten and bodies tossing and turning in sleep. Jim mentally counted the various heartbeats. About thirty, he figured.

Jim pulled back and regrouped. He piggybacked his sense of smell to his hearing and filtered out every heartbeat but one: Blair. He concentrated. He followed the faint sound of the familiar heartbeat until it became louder, more distinct. His nose told him his Guide was in distress and he could smell the fear pouring from Blair's body. Jim concentrated harder and was relieved to note that while Blair's heartbeat and respiration were slow, they were steady. Even though the Sentinel knew his Guide was alive, he was furious and he growled out loud in pure unmitigated anger.

The sounds of Blair's discomfort and distress assailed Jim's ears and the sharp scent of drugs almost made him gag. Jim knew that Blair was in some sort of a drug-induced condition. He didn't smell blood and he tried to focus more intently when something distracted his attention. He pulled back, irritated. The vibrations were incessant and they were coming from his own body. He sat back heavily and shook his head to clear it.

The tiny tremors continued and Jim finally realized that it was his cell phone that he had set on vibrate when he first exited his truck and climbed to the knoll. He reached for the phone and answered it.

"What!" he hissed quietly.

"Jim? What the hell is going on? It's been two fucking hours!"

"Two...?" Jim looked around and finally noticed that dawn was just minutes away. He rose and brushed his pants absentmindedly. He quickly retraced his steps back to his truck and leaned against the side. "Simon? Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to space out. I found Blair. I can't help it, Simon. I need to do something. You don't understand what this feels like!"

"Jim, listen to me carefully. Are you listening?"

After a heavy sigh, Jim answered, "Yes."

"Where are you?"

"The old airport facility."

"How many enemy did you recon?"

"Thirty."

"And Blair is alive?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you can get him out by yourself without being caught?"

Jim paused, angry and irritated.

"Ellison, answer me. That's a direct order!"

"No, sir."

"Listen to me. He's alive. You are out manned and outgunned. It would not do Blair one damned bit of good if you busted in, gun blazing, only to be killed on the spot! Do we understand each other, Detective?"

"Yes, sir."

"You need backup and we need the element of surprise. I'll meet you at the loft in sixty minutes and we'll call in a few favors. We both know people who are willing to help us, no questions asked. Am I clear on this, Detective?" Simon's voice was low and forceful. His tone of authority was the final word.

"Sixty minutes, sir. Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Bassett was waiting impatiently when the van pulled into the building. He paced until it stopped and the bay doors were closed before he excitedly approached.

Klemp jumped from the passenger seat and stood at attention. "Sir. I'm sorry to report that we've failed in our mission."

"What?" Bassett hissed angrily. "What happened?"

"The intended target was not Simon Molinar, sir. It was another man, Simon Banks, a Cascade police captain."

"Simon Banks?" Bassett looked confused. "Simon? The wrong Simon? I don't understand."

"I can explain it," a female voice called from the doorway.

Bassett turned to the woman. "Well, then, Doctor Baker. I suggest you do so immediately."

"He's not Joe McKay," she stated.

Bassett crossed the space between them and grabbed her lapel. His eyebrow shot up. "What did you say?"

She shook her shoulders as if to wipe Dr. Bassett's touch from her clothing. "I said he's not Joseph McKay. His name is Blair Sandburg. I ran a complete workup on him. When you brought him in, he had police identification, along with a driver's license and credit cards. He had a .38 in a shoulder holster, Doctor. He's a Cascade police detective. Simon Banks is his captain."

Bassett turned to his troops. "Dismissed, Captain." He turned to Dr. Baker. "Come with me." They quickly walked down several dimly lit corridors before entering a long one painted a sickly green color. Bassett turned the knob on the fourth door from the end. "No, this is not true. There has to be some mistake, Dr. Baker. I know it's been several years, but I worked with McKay for months! I know Joe McKay when I see him." He crossed the room and stared at Blair's still form.

The woman followed. "We can run a blood test if you like, but this man isn't McKay. I've accessed his police file. He was an anthropology student at Rainier for years before joining the police department. He has a partner who's his roommate. Everything checks out. He's been in Cascade for at least 14 years."

Dr. Bassett walked around the semi-conscious man. "Is it possible? Is it true? There are two of them?" He raised his cold eyes to his assistant. "Do you know what this means? Identical twins mean identical DNA. He has the gene also. I just know it. Let's run the tests immediately," he said excitedly.

Dr. Baker nodded. She gathered the items needed and went to Blair's side. She tightened a rubber tourniquet around his arm and patted the veins expertly. She slid in a needle, extracting several vials of blood. Blair stirred and muttered, but she kept the arm still and capped each vial carefully before moving onto the next one. Three vials later, she gathered the blood samples. "I'll get these results to you as soon as possible, Doctor."

"Thank you, Doctor Baker."

Dr. Baker turned the doorknob but before leaving, she hesitated. "Do you want to move him to a bed? He'll be more comfortable," she suggested. Blair's head hung forward and she knew he'd be stiff and sore after a few hours.

"Dr. Baker, his comfort is the least of my concerns. Now go and do your job." When Dr. Baker looked unhappy, he said, "Wait. I'll recline the chair so he's more comfortable. Is that acceptable to you?" He smiled ingratiatingly, knowing that he required the cooperation of his workers, but hating their concern and dedication to their jobs. He only wanted the secret of immortality and he didn't care who died in his quest, but he couldn't do everything himself. He cursed the advancement of age and illness upon his body and then he smiled again.

She fell for his bit of deception, or so Bassett thought. "Yes, doctor." She closed the door and waited outside for a few moments. She heard the lock click and she sighed. She hated her job, but she needed the money desperately. Her brother had AIDS and every penny she earned was eaten up with his care. She bit her lip and went to conduct the blood tests.

Bassett walked over to Blair's side. He put a hand on his forehead and pressed his head back. Bassett examined the face intently. The same nose, the same mouth, the same exact features. He pulled on a lock of the shoulder-length hair, running his fingers down its length. Same curly hair, only longer. Bassett tapped the side of Blair's face.

"Open your eyes, Mr. Sandburg."

Blair responded by turning away from Bassett's touch.

"I know who you are. Now the experiments will begin. It is a stroke of luck that there are two of you. Now if something goes wrong with the tests, I will have another. A backup, as you policemen say."

Blair turned his head slowly and stared at the older man with blank blue eyes. He remained silent, barely breathing. He hid his consternation that they had already found out that he wasn't Joe. That meant they would now be looking for Joe and Simon with a vengeance. He prayed that they remained hidden and he prayed that Jim would find him soon.

"As for you, young man. Do you realize your importance? I have the utmost confidence that your blood tests will reveal that you most assuredly carry the gene for immortality. I need that knowledge, Mr. Sandburg. I have only a short time to live. Prostate cancer, you see." He hit a button, reclining the chair flat while he talked. "Once you are turned, I have several interesting concepts about transferring your immortality to yours truly. So you see, if the experiments fail and you die, so be it. If you turn and I cannot become immortal, I will still die. I have nothing to lose." Bassett fiddled with the restraints, checking to make sure that they were secure. "I will have your secrets or you will die giving them to me. You will cooperate. You have no choice." With those quiet words, he plunged another needle into Blair's arm, sending him into unconsciousness. "I prefer my patients nice and quiet," he said with satisfaction.

After a short nap, a fresh cup of coffee, and a satisfying sandwich, Bassett made his way back to the lab. He opened the door and stood for a few moments, enjoying the sights. Dr. Bassett admired the examination room where Blair was being held. He had prepared the room personally and he was proud of his work. Everything he needed was close at hand. He ignored the overhead lights and after pulling the small stool over beside the chair, he flicked on a high-intensity halogen lamp directly over Blair Sandburg's head.

With skilled fingers, he peeled back an eyelid. The blue eye barely reacted to the flash of light. Bassett turned, prepared a syringe and without bothering with alcohol, he jammed the needle into Blair's arm.

The stimulant took just a few minutes to work. Blair shuddered and his breath came in harsh pants. His eyes flicked back and forth under closed lids and when Bassett once again tested his reactions, he gasped and flinched from the harsh light.

"Good. You're awake," Bassett said good-naturedly. "We have a lot of work to do." Bassett prattled on, excited about his work. "Your blood workup was remarkable, Mr. Sandburg. You indeed have the gene, just as I thought. And isn't nature powerful? This is wonderful!" Bassett smiled, showing small, neat teeth. "You are a remarkable creature and I hope you appreciate the gift I am about to bestow on you. Immortality! The dream of every man."

Blair's heart fluttered wildly. The sedative battled with the stimulant and Blair's body reacted unhappily to the drugs. The tone of Bassett's voice, so cold, so lifeless, so final, made Blair tremble. He valiantly tried to hide his fear, but his tentative control failed. He panted rapidly, almost hyperventilating. Bassett clamped an oxygen mask over Blair's face and turned on the canister.

"Breathe, Mr. Sandburg. Take nice even breaths."

Blair's blood-shot eyes stared at Bassett while the doctor kept the plastic mask clamped over Blair's mouth. Only when his breathing settled and only after making sure his subject's heart rate was once again at an acceptable level, did Bassett remove the mask.

"Good, good. That's much better. Feeling better?" Bassett asked with false consideration.

Blair licked his lips and remained silent, fighting the desire to beg for his release. He knew his struggle would be futile against such a monster. The man's eyes scared Blair most of all. They were a cold blue color devoid of any emotion or feeling. The soft-spoken voice belied the nefarious nature of the man and it made Blair shake.

"Oh, well," Bassett sighed dramatically. "Your cooperation isn't necessary. The tests will be conducted. I will do with you as I wish and you have absolutely no say whatsoever." Bassett shrugged.

Blair closed his eyes and turned his face away. His body trembled and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was hot and achy and his head pounded unmercifully. He felt his mind wander aimlessly and no matter what he did, he couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few moments. He understood this was happening, but he was powerless to stop it. Thoughts of Jim flitted by quickly and he almost cried out his lover's name as he felt yet another needle pierce his body. A whimper tumbled out unbidden when the contents burned a path into the vein in his neck and he could feel the drug traveling through his system. Soon his entire body was on fire and he couldn't stop the scream that built in his throat.

Blair prayed that he would pass out, but instead whatever Bassett had injected made him more alert than before. He felt every inch of his body respond. He heard his heart beating and his lungs as they inflated and deflated on each panting breath. The sounds from his digestive tract were as loud as a freight train rumbling by and his own cries hurt his ears. His skin was on fire and everything spiraled into a whirlpool of pain. His screams were halted abruptly when his mouth was forced open and his teeth were clamped in some sort of cold metal instrument. He gagged and futilely tried to pull away, but all he could do was moan.

Suddenly Blair's body convulsed and his eyes rolled back. Bassett waited patiently. Blair's heart rate accelerated rapidly for a few seconds and then it stopped. Bassett glanced at the large clock and waited. He had made careful calculations. He gave his dead patient what he surmised was just enough time. While he waited, he attached his subject to a heart monitor and ran a central line into his neck. Better to be safe than sorry, he muttered to himself. Just in case I need to try again. He hummed under his breath, his eyes caressing the other nine vials lined up in a quiet, colorful row on the nearby counter, and he gave the body before him enough time.

Enough time. Enough time to turn into a vampire. Enough time for the saliva compound that he had carefully made from Simon Molinar's own body fluids to react to Blair's DNA. Blood, urine and skin that had been taken from Simon while he was a captive of the Delphi project. Bassett had had the foresight to take his own samples and he had sequestered them away just days before the entire project had fallen apart. No one but he was privy to the serums he had carefully created.

It was a good thing he was paranoid, he mused, watching the clock and carefully studying the mouth of his subject. When the two-minute deadline passed, he grunted disapprovingly. Damn it all to hell. He cursed his bad luck and pushed a dose of adrenaline into the central line. He watched the heart monitor carefully, gauging whether or not he would need a crash cart to resuscitate. He smiled to himself when he was rewarded with his patient's heart fluttering once, twice, and then starting to beat. It settled into an acceptable rhythm and the patient's chest started to rise and fall. He clamped on a nasal cannula, pulled off the dental instrument and, after a disgusted sigh, he left.

Dr. Sara Baker hovered outside the door, hiding her abhorrence at Bassett's actions. She didn't trust the man and she didn't want him to know that she had been watching while he experimented on the helpless man that had been dragged in the night before.

Bassett walked right into her and he growled, "What are you doing skulking about?"

"I wondered if you needed some assistance, Doctor."

"No. I prefer to work alone some of the time."

"May I see the patient?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing the young woman.

Sara put on a comforting face. "I know how hard you work and besides, I'm interested in the results of your tests. I also thought that I would volunteer to make the patient more comfortable. You need to rest and I'm perfectly capable of helping. I thought he might need something to eat or drink or perhaps an IV before he becomes dehydrated. That sort of thing."

Bassett peered into the innocent-looking face. He liked young women and she was pleasant looking. He reached up and patted her cheek. When she didn't pull away, he moved closer and boldly touched her shoulder. An inviting smile crossed her face and Bassett grew yet bolder. He stood tall and let his fingers brush her breast through her clothes. She grinned. "Is it okay, then, Doctor?" she asked, leaning into his touch.

"What? Oh, yes, yes." Bassett waved towards the door. "Do what you will as long as you do not remove the restraints." He shrugged. He hadn't even given a second thought to the subject's comfort, but if it made the girl happy, he didn't mind.

"Oh, thank you, Doctor. Being here with you is a learning experience." Sara gave him a breathless giggle and after allowing her chest to brush his arm, she opened the door to Blair's cell and slid in. Bassett glanced through the small window and Sara turned, smiling brightly, and waggled her fingers at him. Bassett nodded and went to write up his notes.

Sara waited until Bassett disappeared down the corridor before she quickly went to Blair's side. She cursed the demented doctor under her breath while she examined the unconscious man.

"Damned fucking monster. What the hell does he think he's doing? This is inhuman." She made a thorough examination of Blair's body. She grimaced over the myriad of needle marks in his arms and neck. She was irritated to notice that Bassett hadn't even bothered to catheterize the man and the scrubs he wore needed changing. Sara doggedly set to making Blair as comfortable as possible.

She checked the central line and made sure it was taped securely to avoid injury. She hung a bag of IV solution and attached it, opening the flow to allow Blair's body a chance to recover from the drugs and dehydration. She peeked out the window in the door to be sure no one was about. Satisfied, she undid each restraint and rubbed antibiotic ointment into the chaffed skin. She took off the dirty scrubs and washed the slim body before putting in a Foley line and dressing him in a clean hospital gown. She unhappily put the restraints back into place, but she left them looser than they had been, hoping to alleviate any more damage to the bruised skin.

Sara rubbed more ointment on the needle marks and coated Blair's split and chapped lips with a thick moisturizer. She was still tending to the injuries when Blair moaned quietly and his eyes fluttered. She leaned close.

"Mr. Sandburg?"

Blair trembled and jerked against the restraints. His eyes flew open and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Sara slipped her hand over his lips.

"Please be quiet. Please!" Sara begged quietly.

Blair's blurry eyes frantically searched for the face to go with the soft voice and when their eyes met, he blinked furiously and shivered uncontrollably. Sara went to a cupboard and found several blankets. She folded them together and covered the trembling body.

Sara's fingers ghosted over his forehead. "Shhhh. I'm sorry. I didn't know this is what Bassett had planned to do." She sighed. "I didn't care actually. I wanted the money. But I can't stand by and watch this any longer. Do you understand me?"

Blair nodded slightly and whispered, "Help... me."

"Yes."

"Jim..." Blair's eyes fluttered and rolled back.

"No!" She tapped his face with her fingertips. "Don't pass out! Stay with me! Tell me who to call for help!"

Blair shivered again and pried his eyes open. "Police."

"No! You don't understand. This is a secret government operation. Do you understand? The police won't come! The FBI will ignore me."

"Jim... Ellison. Cell phone." Blair sighed and his eyes slid shut.

"Fuck." Sara bit her lip. She checked the IV and hung a fresh bag. Then she casually strolled into the adjacent room and pocketed the cell phone that had been taken from Blair Sandburg when he had been brought into the facility hours earlier.

About an hour before dusk, and after arranging with Simon and the team to meet at a rendezvous site two miles from the airport facility, Jim carefully prepared for the rescue. He dressed warmly in black jeans, heavy wool socks and hiking boots. He put on a long-sleeved t-shirt and pulled a knitted black sweater over it. He added his heavy wool coat and a knitted cap. Jim stuffed gloves into his pockets and, before tucking his pistol into his back holster, made sure it was fully loaded. He strapped his extra .38 to his ankle and slid a knife into one of his boots. He put an extra clip for the Sig and extra ammo for the .38 into various pockets.

Jim's senses went on low level alert when he heard the elevator grind upward. He stopped and waited, listening carefully. It bypassed the second floor and stopped on the third. The door slid open. Jim pulled his 9 mm, slid the chamber and put a hand on the front door handle. When the footsteps stopped, he yanked the door open and leveled his pistol into the face of Joe McKay.

Before Jim could take a breath, a blur of motion slammed into his body, sending him flying backward. The gun skittered across the smooth wooden floor. Something landed on his chest and hands clamped down on his wrists with vice-like strength, pinning them to his stomach. He released the air from his body with a loud "oomph" and his eyes blurred when his head cracked against the floor.

"Oh, my God! Jim! Are you all right?" Joe McKay's concerned blue eyes bore into Jim's face. "Simon! Stop!" Joe tugged on Simon Molinar's unyielding arm. "Simon!"

Simon turned emerald green eyes on his lover. "Joseph." In a word, he expressed his distrust and unhappiness at the entire situation.

"Please," Joe whispered.

Simon nodded and rose, releasing his captive.

Jim rubbed the back of his head before scrubbing his face with his hands. With Joe helping on one side and Simon on the other, the Sentinel was set back on his feet in record time.

"Are you okay, Jim?" Joe asked.

"Yeah. What are you doing here?" Jim growled.

"We saw Blair's picture on the Internet news, Jim. What's happened?"

"What do you think? Those fucking idiots grabbed him. I'm going to get him out."

"We'll help," Joe said.

"No, you'll be in the way."

"He's my brother, Jim," Joe said quietly. "Besides, we've dealt with them before. You haven't."

Jim stared at the man for a long moment. He tested his senses and he wasn't surprised to experience a reoccurrence of the feelings he had before when he first met Joe McKay, Blair's identical twin. Joe's scent and appearance were as similar to Blair's as was humanly possible. To Jim's senses, the difference between the two men was minute and even he had to admit that he felt protective toward the quiet, pale man.

Jim then examined Simon Molinar carefully. Jim distrusted the man because of his inherent nature, but he also knew that Joe relied on Simon for his safety and security. For that reason, Jim had agreed not to interfere with their lives. Once again, he sensed the strangeness of the man that he now knew was a vampire, a freak of nature. Jim snorted quietly. A freak just like he was.

Jim straightened up his crooked jacket and scowled. "McKay, I'm ending this tonight."

Joe put a hand on Jim's arm, making him shiver slightly. "Okay, Jim."

Jim's eyes blazed. "Do you understand, McKay? Blair has been a basket case since he found out he's a fucking freak! He's lost weight. He's spent hours meditating and trying to understand this mess since you told him. He doesn't deserve to live like this." Jim bit his lip, aggravated that he had allowed himself to become emotional to these strangers.

Simon spoke for the first time. "Detective," he crooned in his smooth accented voice, "I will be more than happy to assist."

Simon's gaze met Jim's and he gave the detective a slight nod. Jim returned the nod with one of his own. The alliance was formed.

Jim stood with the small group of rescuers about a mile outside the latest Delphi stronghold on a small, deserted dirt road. He quietly made eye contact with each person in the team. "You all understand the risks?"

The group, gathered without asking questions and more than willing to follow Jim Ellison through hell and back, was just as solemn. Everyone answered in the affirmative. Simon Banks. Brian Rafe. Henri Brown. Joel Taggart. The two newest members of the team were old friends of Jim and Blair and they all had come to each other's aid before when assistance was required. Sentinel Dennis Marshall and his Guide, Jeremy Rogers were former FBI agents and currently licensed private investigators. Jim's eyes met the two newest additions to their group and he nodded to them. "Dennis. Jeremy. You know everybody here?"

The men nodded. "Sure do," Dennis said.

"Are we ready?" Henri asked.

Jim cocked his head. "Just about," he answered.

Dennis looked down the quiet dirt road. Both Sentinels were on alert. A large motor home lumbered slowly down the rutted road and pulled over into a turn-about. When two men emerged, everybody's eyes were centered on the slim, curly-headed man who walked toward them with his hands in his pockets. Next to him walked a taller, wiry dark-haired man who looked none too happy about the entire operation.

Jim nodded to the newcomers. "These are the men I told you about earlier. This is Joe McKay and Simon Molinar." Jim looked at the incredulous expressions on his friends' faces when they stared at Joe. He sighed and held up his hand, forestalling more questions. "Not now. Later."

Everyone nodded. After a quick review on the how's and what's of the operation, Jim said, "Move out." The group had barely taken two steps when Jim stopped and growled, "Fuck!" He yanked out his cell. It vibrated in his hand and he almost threw it against the nearest tree when he glanced at the caller ID window. "Blair!" he whispered. He hit the 'on' button. "Blair?"

"Is this Jim Ellison?"

"Who is this? How did you get this phone?"

"Listen to me carefully. I'm Sara Baker. I'm a doctor with a secret government project. They brought in a guy about twenty-four hours ago. He told me to call. He needs you desperately."

"Is he okay?"

"No. You must get him out of here now."

"Can you help?"

"What can I do?"

"Can you get Blair out of there?"

"No, he's in a room in the middle of the facility. He's been drugged and can't walk. There are too many guards and too many dead end corridors. I'm afraid of what will happen. Please. I want to help, but I'm scared."

"Okay, calm down. Listen. Unlock the doors. Drug the guards. Anything. Everything. The sooner the better. How much time do you need?"

"Give me thirty minutes."

"It's 8:36. You have thirty minutes."

"Okay."

The connection broke and Jim dropped the phone on the grass. Jeremy moved close to him and put a hand on his arm. He spoke soothingly in his deep Guide voice. "Somebody's helping Blair?"

Jim nodded blankly, responding automatically. "Yeah."

"Jim, he'll be okay. In thirty minutes, we'll be on our way. In an hour, he'll be out. I swear it. You know that Jim, don't you? Dennis and I owe you and Blair a lot. We're here for you both."

"Thanks, Jeremy."

Joe stepped close to Jim. "The motor home is outfitted with everything I need, Jim. I'll take care of Blair. I'll do whatever it takes."

The Sentinel gathered himself together and stood tall. He glanced at his watch. "Thanks, Joe." He looked at his group of friends. "Let's get into position. Blair needs us."

Sara moved calmly and carefully in spite of the abject fear that coursed through her body. She was terrified that she would be caught, but the fear she felt knowing that Bassett would most likely kill Blair Sandburg overrode her own terror. She was a doctor; she had no choice. She couldn't stand by and watch this any longer, not for any amount of money and not even for her own brother's life. Not even for my own, she thought.

Sara filled an injection gun with a powerful, fast-acting tranquilizer. She slipped another vial into her lab coat pocket and her first stop was the break room, where she dumped the vial into the fresh pot of coffee that sat steaming on a hot plate. She filled two cups and carried them to the security room where two guards watched the surveillance monitors. After knocking and being admitted, she greeted the men happily and set the cups down within reach.

Sara's next stop was the barracks where the sleeping quarters were housed. She slipped into the bunkroom and approached the six men who slept there. She checked to be sure they were asleep by clearing her throat and asking quietly, "Anybody want a quick fuck?" When none of the men responded, she quickly moved from bed to bed and zapped each man with the gun. Other than a few mumbles and snorts, none woke and she knew that in seconds they would be unconscious.

Eight down, she counted. I hope that helps. Sara went out into the corridor and looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes left. She figured that the two men in the surveillance room should be out by then so she started unlocking any exit doors that she passed on her way back to the main lab. If they drank the coffee, she reminded herself and crossed her fingers, hoping childishly for good luck.

Sara carefully made her way back to the room in which Blair was being held. She slipped in and went to his side where she immediately began unfastening the leather straps.

"What are you doing?"

Sara's fingers froze and she forced herself not to react to her sudden rush of fear. She didn't turn around, but continued to unbuckle the straps. "I'm taking off the restraints, Doctor Bassett. The man's circulation is all but cut off. He's unconscious, Doctor. He's not going anywhere."

Bassett moved closer and hissed, "I told you not to..."

Suddenly, a large explosion rocked the entire building. Bottles, instruments and equipment rocked and clattered to the floor. Glass broke and liquid spilled. Metal trays flew and the IV stand fell over.

"No!" Bassett shrieked, racing to the small cabinet mounted on the opposite wall. He pulled out a ring of keys and fumbled with them before he found the one he needed. He unlocked the door and gathered the small, colored vials in his hands, stuffing them into his pockets.

Another explosion shook the building and fire alarms screamed in the distance. New sounds could be heard and to Sara, it sounded like gunfire. She barely glanced at Bassett, who was too intent on gathering his precious vials. She unbuckled the last strap from around Blair's chest and moved on to disconnecting the IV, the Foley, and the heart monitor.

Bassett grabbed her arm. "I need my files. You must help me with the files!" he screamed in her face. "Leave him!" Bassett raced to the door, flung it open, and stared down the barrel of a semi-automatic weapon.

The rescue party broke down into smaller units. Each group followed their objective after they gained entrance to the main facility. At first, they were a bit surprised to find several doors ajar and unconscious commandos here and there, but they soon realized that their inside help must have been very effective.

The first group, consisting of Dennis, Jeremy and Joel, removed any residual resistance from commandos who still desired to fight instead of surrendering. Each was offered a chance to stand down. If the opportunity was not taken, then they were eliminated quickly.

The second group, consisting of Joe and Simon Molinar, went through and destroyed any and all files and computer data relating to Delphi and the experiments that Bassett was conducting. Henri and Rafe formed another team and they gathered any of the prisoners of war still alive, took them to the garage, and tied them securely. The last duo, Jim and Simon Banks, went to find Blair.

Jim listened for and found his lover's sluggish heartbeat. He focused intently on the sound and followed it instinctively. Jim moved forward oblivious to most of the fighting and noise around them. Simon stayed close to Jim's side in case he zoned, weapon at the ready in case they encountered any resistance. When Jim stopped outside the door to the room where he knew his partner was being held, he realized that he heard two other heartbeats in the room. He heard footsteps cross the room and stop behind the door. When it was opened, Jim had his gun pointed at eye level, ready to put a bullet into the first head he saw.

The pale blue eyes and white face of the old man stopped Jim momentarily. His gun was cocked and he moved his finger to squeeze the trigger. The only thing that stopped Jim from blowing Bassett's head off was a woman's voice.

"Are you Ellison?"

Jim shifted his eyes from Bassett to the room beyond. His eyes fell on Blair, and shooting Bassett was instantly forgotten. The barrel of the pistol dropped and Jim's feet moved automatically toward his mate. Never missing a step, he grabbed the old man's lapels and shoved him into Simon's grasp as he passed. He crossed the room quickly and holstered the gun. Sara saw the menacing look on Jim's face and she swallowed hard. She almost stepped between Jim and Blair to protect the patient, but Jim suddenly spoke and she froze in her tracks.

"Blair?" Jim whispered, almost sobbing the name. His face changed instantly into tender and loving. His eyes were alarmed and his hands reached out, trembling slightly.

Sara moved back and Jim scooped the unconscious Guide into his arms. He buried his nose in the sweat-soaked hair and moaned softly. Sara moved toward the Sentinel, hands out and palms up. She smiled and nodded. Jim remained still, so she took Blair's dangling arm and laid it on his chest. She tucked the blankets around his body. "It's cold outside," she said quietly.

Jim raised his face and his eyes met hers. He nodded once sharply, then shifted his burden slightly so that Blair's head rested comfortably against his shoulder. He centered his senses on his Guide and strode from the room. Sara stood uncertainly for a split second before she followed closely on Jim's heels.

Simon moved into the hall, dragging Bassett along with him. He clamped a strong hand on Bassett's arm to discourage any thought of bolting. When Jim and Sara walked past, Simon fell into step behind them, tugging harshly on Bassett. They began retracing their steps out of the facility toward the rendezvous point, when Joe and his partner emerged from a darkened corridor.

Joe immediately went to Jim and gave Blair a cursory exam.

"He's not as bad as he could have been, Jim," Joe said quietly. "His vitals are strong. He'll be okay. Let's get him to the motor home."

Jim nodded. The group moved quietly and swiftly with Simon Banks at the rear keeping a firm grip on Bassett. Molinar kept his focus on Bassett while he walked several steps in front of him. He was gauging how much time it would take for him to turn and snap the bastard's neck, when several commandos ambushed them. Everybody scattered while the bullets whined past. Molinar pushed Joe around a corner and protected him by putting his body between Joe and the shooters.

Banks fell to the floor, dragging Bassett with him. A bullet hit his upper arm and he released his hold on the prisoner. When he grimaced and closed his eyes, Bassett took advantage of the melee and slipped away unnoticed.

Jim dropped to his knees as he took a hit in his calf muscle. He grunted and wrapped his arms around Blair, holding him close and protecting him with his body. The others returned fire and after a short battle, the commandos were dispatched.

Joe flew to Jim's side when the coast was clear, and he quickly checked Blair. After reassuring himself that he hadn't been hurt any further, he tried to help Jim to his feet. Jim started to rise, but he sank back.

"Ellison?" Joe asked.

"I'm hit. My leg," Jim said between clenched teeth. "Help me up."

"Damn!" Banks cried.

Heads swiveled. "What?" Jim growled.

"Bassett's gone! He escaped during the gunfight," Banks said angrily, holding his injured arm. Joe saw the blood seeping and he went to Banks' side.

"Put pressure on it," Joe said after examining the wound. "You'll live."

Banks rolled his eyes and nodded. "Right."

They regrouped. Jim saw Molinar sliding along the wall and he realized that the vampire was going after Bassett.

"Simon," Jim said, looking at the captain. "I need you to make sure Blair gets out of here. Take Joe and Sara and get to the motor home. I'm going after Bassett."

Banks nodded and shouldered his rifle. Sara and Joe started to reach out for Blair, but a firm voice interrupted the transfer.

"No," Molinar said adamantly.

"What?" Jim said.

"I will take care of this myself," Simon stated.

"No way, Molinar," Jim hissed.

Simon stepped close to Jim. "You are a man of character and principle, Detective. I am not. I will do this."

Jim and Simon tested each other's resolve without saying a word. Jim's eyes bore into Simon's and after a few seconds, he conceded.

Jim glanced down at his partner and back up at Molinar. He nodded and after dialing down the pain in his leg, he walked past the vampire, not looking back. Banks and Sara followed Jim. Joe hung back for a few moments.

"Simon?" Joe looked unhappy.

"Go and take care of your brother, Joseph." Simon squeezed Joe's shoulder. His unspoken request that Joe not interfere with this mission hung between them and Joe stared into the green eyes before he nodded. Simon gave Joe a small smile, turned, and before Joe could blink, he was gone.

Joe sighed sadly and followed the rest of the group.

Simon had not hunted a human in many months, not since he had vowed to Joe not to kill for food again. He sometimes roamed the forest at night, stalking game to keep his skills honed, but that was the extent of his forays since he and Joe became a team. Now he ran on ancient instinct. He used his skills easily and he used his acute senses to their maximum. First he called upon his sense of smell. He located the scientist easily and then he used his superior hearing to pinpoint the man ahead about a hundred yards. Simon heard indistinct mutterings and after listening carefully, he knew that Bassett was talking to himself.

Simon moved with vampire speed. He was beside Bassett before the man realized that Simon was in the room. Simon observed that Bassett clutched something in his hands, something that he held close to his body. He hunched over whatever it was as if it were something precious.

Simon spoke softly. "Hello once again, Dr. Bassett."

Bassett started violently and shrieked. His movement caused his hands to fly up and Simon watched, mesmerized as the handful of small glass vials flew through the air. Each one hit the hard tile floor with a pop as it shattered into tiny pieces of glass. Simon ignored the man's scream of distress and moved quickly, catching the last vial before it landed. He held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Is this yours, Doctor?" Simon said cockily.

"Yes! Give it to me! It's mine!" Bassett lunged for the vial but Simon gracefully sidestepped the man. Bassett overreached and fell to the floor.

Simon was on his knees beside the doctor instantly. He let the vial roll into the center of his palm and held it under Bassett's face. While Bassett begged and pleaded for the vial, Simon slowly and deliberately closed his fist and squeezed. The vial cracked and then burst, disintegrating into small pieces. Blue liquid dripped from between Simon's fingers, along with blood from the cuts that the glass made in his skin.

"You are a monster," Simon hissed. He opened his hand, allowing the pieces to fall. He grabbed Bassett and before the man knew Simon had even moved, he clamped his teeth onto the jugular and bit. Barely a minute later, Simon dropped the lifeless body and rose. He licked his lips and after wiping his mouth, he brushed some dirt from his pants. He straightened his clothes and zipped up his jacket. Simon stepped over the body of Samuel Bassett and, without a backward glance, went to find his lover.

Simon Molinar was sitting on the step of the motor home when Jim, Simon Banks, Joe and Sara came over the rise and down to the road.

Simon rose. "What took you so long?" he said smartly.

Everyone but Joe looked incredulous. Joe knew better. He knew of the vampire's skills and he knew from the look on Simon's face that he had been successful. He felt both sad and elated. Now, finally, the main driving force behind Delphi's insidious project was eradicated. Joe gave his mate a small smile. Molinar grinned in return. He turned and opened the door, bowing grandly. "Joseph, it seems you have work to do."

Joe rolled his eyes at his mate's antics. "Come on, Jim. Let's take care of Blair." Joe led the way.

Jim followed, eyeing Molinar when he passed. Simon shrugged and gave him a small salute. "Mission accomplished," he said.

Jim nodded. "Thanks." He carried Blair through the spacious interior and into the bedroom where he laid him down gently.

Joe moved to Blair's side and his skilled hands worked while he talked. "Okay. Let's see if we can get him conscious. I talked to Sara and she had no idea what kind of drugs Bassett was using. Since I don't know what kind of shit they've pumped into his body, I hate the idea of giving him anything at all other than clear fluids." Joe pulled off the blankets and gown to examine his brother. "I'd just as soon not even start an IV if I can help it. He's had enough needles in him for a life time." Joe pulled a stethoscope from a drawer and listened to Blair's heart rate. He checked his pulse and tested his response to light. "Damn, he's really out of it." Joe started at Blair's head and thoroughly examined his patient. "His temp is lower than I'd like. Let's try to warm him up."

"He hates being cold," Jim said softly. His hands touched Blair's feet and he began rubbing them between his hands.

Joe pulled a heating pad from the closet and wrapped it in a towel. "Put this on his feet and wrap them in another blanket. There's a plug near the head of the bed. I'll get some hot towels."

While Jim did as instructed, Joe went into the bathroom, soaked several towels in hot water and carried them over to the bed. Together, they spread them on Blair's shivering body and covered him with several blankets to keep in the heat as long as possible. With a washcloth, Joe bathed Blair's face carefully with warm water.

Jim had sunk to his knees beside the bed, and he snaked a hand under the blanket to lay it on Blair's leg, anchoring himself to his Guide. "What now?" he whispered, rubbing the skin under his hand gently.

Just when Joe was going to admit that it seemed that Blair was going to need more time to regain consciousness, and that he probably needed to start an IV, Blair's leg twitched and his eyes flicked back and forth under his closed lids. He tossed his head and trembled, moaning softly.

Jim's eyes widened when he felt his mate responding. Joe said, "Keep touching him, Jim. Talk to him. Maybe you can coax him into waking up. Then we can get some electrolytes in his body and give him time to clear the crap from his system."

Jim nodded and moved closer. Joe pulled off the cooling towels and vigorously rubbed Blair dry with a thick terry towel. Then he covered him with a dry blanket. Jim put a hand on Blair's forehead and rubbed his chest lightly.

"Hey, Chief. I'm here. It's safe now. You're safe. You can wake up." Jim stroked Blair's forehead gently. "Come on, Blair. I need you." Jim's voice hitched and he dropped his chin to his chest before he raised his eyes back. He swallowed hard and leaned closer to whisper into Blair's ear. "I love you so much. Please, Blair." He placed a small kiss on the earlobe and when he felt another tremor course through Blair's body, he pulled back and watched Blair's face intently.

"Yes! That's it. Come on, my love. You can do it." Jim's voice encouraged his lover softly but firmly. "Open your eyes."

Blair's eyelids fluttered and he blinked several times. He trembled violently and small whimpers escaped his dry lips. Jim tucked the blanket around Blair's shoulders and rose to sit carefully on the side of the bed. He put his warm hands on the shaking shoulders and with a gentle touch, he massaged them through the blanket. He kept talking softly and steadily.

Blair heard the gentle voice talking to him. It sounded just like Jim. He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid it was a trick, or that he was dreaming, or that he was already dead. He felt too awful to be dead, he mused, so he listened and struggled to focus. He responded to the familiar voice and he tried to answer. He breathed in deeply and blew it out shakily before he finally opened his eyes. "J-jim?"

"Yes, I'm here, babe," Jim said softly and gave him a tender smile.

Blair blinked rapidly to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, and struggled weakly to free his arms trapped under the blanket. Jim moved his hands when he realized what Blair wanted. He pulled the blanket aside and when Blair's trembling arms reached out, Jim gathered him close and hugged him to his chest. Blair's arms immediately wrapped around Jim's waist and he buried his face in Jim's shirt.

"Jim?" Blair whispered shakily.

"Shhh. I'm here, my love."

"Jim?" Blair's arms tightened just a bit and his breathing escalated. His teeth chattered and his body shook.

"Look at me, Chief. I'm here. I promise. I'm really here."

Blair allowed Jim to move back a fraction so that Blair's head slid back into the crook of his arm. Jim cradled him and their eyes met. "See, I'm really here," Jim crooned softly. "I love you."

Blair raised a shaky hand and his fingers brushed the side of Jim's face. "Oh, God," Blair whispered. "Jim."

Jim captured the trembling hand and kissed the fingers that wrapped around his. He held on tightly and pulled Blair close once again. "Just rest." Blair nodded, his eyes slid close and he sighed heavily. Jim looked around for Joe, who stood leaning quietly against the wall. "He's freezing. We need to get back to the loft. Can he have a hot bath?" Jim pulled the blankets around his Guide's back.

"Sure. That might help. It's the drugs, Jim. I can't even imagine the shit Bassett pumped into him. They've whacked out his system. I'll get something for him to drink and we'll get him home," Joe said, heading for the door. "I'll take care of everything. I need to look at your leg, too. You're still bleeding."

"Later," Jim growled.

Joe almost smiled. "Okay, Jim. Later. For now, you just stay with Blair."

Jim nodded, holding his precious Guide in a warm embrace. Joe returned a few moments later, bringing a bottle of Pedialyte and a straw.

"Try to get some of this into him. It will help."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this prepared?"

Joe smiled a bit. "For some strange reason, Simon seems to like this stuff. I always have some around. Personally, I think it gives him a buzz." Joe chuckled and left quietly.

After much coaxing, Jim managed to get a few ounces of the liquid down his partner's throat. The shivers had lessened somewhat and Blair's hold on him relaxed. When he scanned Blair's body, he realized that he had drifted to sleep. Jim hoped that he'd sleep until they arrived back home.

"Jim!"

Jim's head popped up. He looked around but no one besides Blair was in the room.

"Ellison!"

Jim extended his sense of hearing. "Dennis?" he whispered into the air.

"Jim, you need to clear everybody out. I've made arrangements with some contacts to pick up everyone we rounded up in the facility. In six hours, there won't be a thing left to indicate that anybody was ever here. You can't be here. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Dennis. Got it. How long?"

"You have thirty minutes before a clean-up team arrives. We'll catch up with you later. The rest of the guys are almost back to your location. Jeremy and I will catch up later."

"We're out of here," Jim told Dennis before calling out, "Simon!"

The door opened a crack and Simon Banks' dark head appeared.

"Let's move, Simon. Sweepers in thirty minutes. We need to be long gone."

"Right." Simon started to pull the door close before he popped his head back in. "Is he going to be okay, Jim?" He tried to see Blair's face but Jim's arms blocked his view. All he could see was the top of Blair's head.

Jim nodded. "Joe thinks so. So do I. Get us home, please, Simon. "

"You got it, my friend."

Simon Banks made sure everybody got out before the sweepers came through, then arranged for one of the guys to drive Jim's truck to the loft. When they arrived at Prospect Street, he followed Jim, who carried Blair, up to the loft, and unlocked the door for him with his key. He pushed the door open and after a pat to the curly head, he said, "I'll come back later, Jim. You take care of him."

"Thanks, Simon. Thanks for everything," Jim called over his shoulder to his friend. "I owe you."

Simon just chuckled and waved on his way out. He met Joe in the hall and they nodded to each other. Simon couldn't help but stare at Blair's identical twin. "Jim needs a hand even though he's too pig-headed to admit it."

"Thanks, Captain." Joe smiled. "Why don't you let me bandage that arm of yours?"

"It's barely a scratch, McKay. I'll take care of it when I get home."

"You sure? It wouldn't take long to take a look."

"Thanks anyway, I'm good. Good night. Hell, good morning." Simon patted Joe's shoulder. "I hope we get a chance to meet properly one of these days. Blair's one of my best men."

Joe smiled tiredly. "Yeah, he seems to be a pretty nice guy. I hope we meet again. Bye."

Simon gave him a parting pat and left to finish his remaining duties before he went home. First, he went outside and spoke to the small gathering of their companions, who waited impatiently for news about Blair's condition. After explaining that Blair was going to recover, he dismissed the troops with a word of thanks, promising to contact everyone with any more news about Blair as soon as he could. He also promised a celebration for a job well done when Blair was able to attend. The last thing he did before he left was to make sure that, for the next few days, the local patrol ignored the illegal parking arrangements of Joe's motor home that was left in the alley behind Jim's building. Sometimes being a cop has its advantages, Banks thought, as he headed home to a hot shower and a warm bed.

Joe knocked on the frame of the open door. "Hi."

Jim glanced up. Blair lay on the sofa covered with a colorful blanket, and Jim sat on the floor, both of his hands clasped around one of Blair's.

"You need a hand?" Joe asked, standing in the doorway.

"I'm good."

Joe chuckled and he couldn't help but notice Jim's protective posture. He looked like a jungle cat protecting its mate. "Yeah, right. I can see that. How about I run that bath? In the meantime, why don't you see if you can get him to drink this?" Joe walked over and held out a fresh bottle of Pedialyte that he had already opened. "It will level out his blood sugar and he won't be so cold."

Jim took the bottle with a nod. "Thanks, Joe," he said quietly. "Where's your buddy?"

Joe shrugged. "He's around. Why, Jim? Simon won't bother you."

Jim blushed. "No, it's not that. I wanted to thank him. I judged him harshly and I feel I owe him an apology."

Joe smiled. "Well, tell him yourself. He's on your balcony," Joe pointed.

Jim's eyes widened in surprise when he glanced out and saw the vampire perched on the railing. Their eyes met and Simon raised a hand and waggled his fingers at Jim.

Jim looked from Simon to Joe, back to Simon, and then back again to Joe. "He's watching out for you, isn't he?"

Joe nodded. "It's his nature, I'm afraid."

Jim looked puzzled. "Why's that?"

"Later, perhaps, I'll explain. Right now, we have to get Blair settled into bed."

While Joe went to run the bath, Jim gently ran his fingers down the side of Blair's face. "Come on, my love. Wake up. We need to get you cleaned up and comfy."

After a bit of gentle prodding, Blair stirred and his eyes opened. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself, Chief. You up for a hot bath?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Come on, then. Let's sit you up. Joe wants you to drink some fluids first."

Blair nodded and winced.

"Head hurt?"

"Yeah, among other things." He grimaced when Jim carefully helped him sit against the corner of the sofa. Jim sat next to him, leaning on the arm, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Drink up, Chief."

Blair tried to lift his hand but, after one failed attempt, he sighed. "I'm too tired, Jim."

"I'll help you. Come on, open up. He even put a straw in it just for you. Drink." Jim guided the straw between the pale lips and with a bit of coaxing, he managed to get the fluid into his mate. "Good job, Chief," he praised when Blair finished the drink and set the empty bottle on the floor.

"Thanks," Blair smiled slightly and his head slid onto Jim's shoulder. He sighed. "I was so afraid," he said softly, his trembling fingers plucking at Jim's shirt.

"I know. I'm sorry it took so long to find you."

Blair snorted quietly. "If you start a guilt trip on me, Jim, I swear I'll scream."

Jim laughed. "Okay, my love. No guilt trip."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Call me that again," Blair whispered shyly.

"What, 'my love'?"

"Yes."

"You are my true love, Blair. You know that, don't you?" Jim kissed the top of his head.

"Yes, I know. It makes me feel a little better hearing you say it out loud."

"Are you feeling badly?"

"I feel really tired and achy. My head hurts and I'm cold."

"Water's ready!" Joe called from the bathroom doorway.

"Come on, Chief, a nice hot bath and then I'm tucking you into bed. You need to sleep. You look like hell."

Blair laughed quietly. "Thanks so much. That makes me feel a whole lot better."

"Any time, Blair. Can you walk?"

"Sure, man, I can walk."

Jim helped Blair to his feet and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. He clamped a hand under each elbow, but before Blair took that first step, his shaky legs collapsed. Jim caught him. "Whoa, there, Chief. We don't need you taking a header."

"Sorry," Blair whispered, finding the energy to snake an arm around Jim's neck. The blanket slipped to the floor. "Ah, Jim, why am I naked?"

"Because I tried to take advantage of you while you were unconscious?" Jim teased.

Blair chuckled. "Did I enjoy it?"

"Oh, yeah. You begged for more."

Joe grinned at their banter and stepped aside. "I put some of that bath oil from the cupboard in the water. It was chamomile and that will help him relax."

Jim nodded. "Thanks, Joe." He gently lowered Blair into the water and was pleased at the sigh of relief and pleasure that escaped his lover's lips.

"Feels nice," Blair murmured, closing his eyes and leaning back when Jim slipped a towel behind his head.

"You want me to wash your hair, Chief?"

"Not if I have to sit up. Too tired." Blair sighed again and while Jim was bathing him, he dozed, unable to stay awake any longer. The combination of the heat, the fragrant oil, and his exhaustion, combined to make him very drowsy.

Joe hovered in the doorway while Jim bathed the injured man. When he finished, Jim tried to rouse Blair, but the only response he received was a small 'mmmmm'.

"Come on, Chief, you're not helping here," Jim gently chided his lover and chuckled. "Joe, he's really out of it. Could you give me a hand?"

"Yeah," Joe said, pleased to be asked to help.

Together, they managed to get Blair out of the tub, dried and into sweats. He never woke beyond a few mutters and sighs. Jim carried him up the stairs and Joe followed. When they arrived at the landing, Joe moved around Jim and pulled back the covers for him. He plumped up a couple of pillows and stepped back, watching the tenderness with which his brother was laid onto the bed. Jim pulled up the covers to Blair's neck and tucked them around his body. Joe felt a lump in his throat when he watched Jim ghost his fingers over Blair's forehead and lean down to kiss him there gently. He was gratified to see the love that Jim had for his brother. With a final glance at Blair, he turned and went back down the stairs to find Simon.

After watching Blair sleep for a good while, Jim gathered a change of clothes and started down the stairs, thinking of heading for the shower. The pain in his leg flared, reminding him of his injury. He sat down heavily on the stairs and put his head in his hands. He sat silently, finally allowing his mind and body to catch up with the events of the evening. Blair was safe. That's what mattered most, but Jim was still angry that he ever had to go through the entire ordeal. He didn't need to know the details to know that it was horrible. He saw the look in his partner's eyes and he hated anybody and everybody who put that look there. He felt a flash of dislike for Joe and it battled with the Sentinel protective instincts. He reasoned with himself that Joe hadn't asked for this any more than Blair had. After a few minutes of reflection, he felt he at least had a better handle on his emotions.

A soft voice broke through. "Jim? Ah, I have some food, if you're hungry. I've also made some coffee. Besides, I need to look at your leg. It's still bleeding a bit." Joe cleared his throat when Jim failed to answer. "Jim?"

Jim raised his face and Joe saw the distress etched in every line. He climbed the steps and sat down next to the Sentinel. "I don't have any family left other than Blair. I'm kind of glad we found each other, but I understand if you're pissed at me. I wouldn't wish this on anybody."

Jim glanced at the solemn man and he wondered what kind of life he had had. He looked exactly like his brother, but his personality was very much the opposite. Where Blair was friendly and outgoing, Joe was cautious and introverted. Blair enjoyed life and he lived each day fully. Joe seemed weary and resigned to never having a satisfying life. Jim sighed and swallowed hard before he spoke.

"I'm not angry with you. At least, not directly. I know that it's not your fault. I know you didn't give Blair the gene; that you didn't want him hurt, but my irrational mind hates everything you represent."

Joe sat quietly for a long while. He finally said, "We'd better go." He rose and descended the stairs. He was almost to the door when Jim called out to him.

"Joe?" Jim stood and limped down the steps carefully.

"Yeah?" Joe turned, hand on the doorknob.

"Did you say you fixed something to eat?"

A small smiled crossed Joe's face and he nodded. "Yeah, I fixed sandwiches."

Jim shifted a bit. "You said you made coffee. Is it strong?"

"Strong enough to eat the ceramic from the cup."

Jim smiled. "I'm a bit hungry and I'd really appreciate it if you'd take a look at my leg. It hurts like a son of a bitch. I'd love a cup of coffee, too."

Joe grinned and for the first time, Jim saw the promise of the man who had been buried in the morose exterior. He smiled in return.

"I'd be happy to help, Jim. Come and sit." Joe crossed to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. He patted the seat. "Let me take a look at that leg."

Blair came awake slowly and he was surprised he didn't feel a whole lot worse. He was warm and dry. He was fairly comfortable, except that his muscles ached as if he had exercised too much the day before. He stretched carefully and glanced around, looking for Jim. He was alone in the bed, but he was relieved when he saw that Jim's side had at least been slept in. That was when he saw Simon Molinar perched on Jim's dresser, watching him intently.

"Good afternoon, Detective," Simon said softly.

Blair was startled to see Molinar in his room. For a brief second, the thought of the vampire in such close proximity made his heart speed up. He glanced around and realized that they seemed to be alone. He barely remembered anything about the day before and he wasn't sure if his memories about Joe were accurate. Now he realized that Joe had indeed helped with his rescue. He knew that if his brother had helped, then Simon must have helped, also. After a few shaky breaths, he had enough presence of mind to realize that neither Jim nor Joe would leave him in jeopardy, so he forced himself to relax.

"Hello," Blair responded.

"I've made you a cup of tea." Simon sat very still and tried to appear non-threatening. He saw the flash of fear that had crossed Blair's face and he was aware of the accelerated heart rate.

"Ah, thanks. That sounds good." The thought of having a vampire make him a cup of tea seemed quite strange and Blair had to smile at the image of Simon puttering in the kitchen.

Simon observed Blair carefully and when he saw his body start to relax, he hopped from his perch and picked up the mug sitting on the dresser. He crossed the small space, carefully avoiding the few fingers of sunlight that filtered through the skylight, and held the mug out to Blair. "It's hot."

Blair scooted up and took the cup. "Thanks." He took a sip. "It tastes great." He blew and sipped the beverage, enjoying the warmth that it brought to his body.

"Where's Jim?"

"His presence was required at his place of employment. He will return as soon as he is able. He said to tell you he'll bring your favorite food for dinner. Joseph is sleeping. I'm to look after you," he added, apparently pleased with his assignment.

Blair felt a small stab of disappointment. He had been kidnapped and almost killed. How could Jim go off and leave him alone? He wanted his lover to hold him and comfort him. He needed... He snorted softly and tried to shake off the idea that he was a child who needed to be coddled. "Thank you for the news report, Simon," Blair said politely. "Please sit down."

"You are welcome, Detective." Simon watched the open face of the man before him while he perched on the edge of the mattress. So unlike his own Joseph. Blair wore his feelings on his face and Simon could easily read everything the man thought. While his eyes looked exactly like Joe's, there were vast differences behind the coloring. Blair's eyes were open and trusting and immensely curious about everything. Simon felt the need to protect the innocent man even more now that the same bastards who had hurt him and Joe previously, had now hurt Blair.

Blair felt Simon's eyes inspecting him. He had the strangest feeling that he was being examined down to his very soul. "You could just call me Blair," he offered, trying to make them both more comfortable in each other's presence.

Simon laughed deeply. "If you wish."

Blair studied the handsome man while he finished his tea. He was fascinated about the very idea that Simon was a vampire. He was also just a bit apprehensive. The entire thing seemed too impossible. He set the cup on the nightstand and cleared his throat. When Simon's clear green eyes met his, Blair blurted out, "Can I see them?"

Simon stared at the man for a brief second before he laughed. "You wish to see my teeth?"

Blair shrugged. "You're the first vampire I've ever met. I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Simon saw the faint flush creep up Blair's face and he heard his heart rate speed up. Simon shook his head, chuckling. "I would never hurt you. You're too much like Joseph." Something remained unsaid and Blair picked up on the pause.

"But...?"

Simon looked knowingly at Blair. "But I would be willing to turn you."

Blair's eyes grew wide. "Oh, shit."

Simon slid closer and his emerald green eyes met Blair's startled blue ones. "There would be no pain, no suffering. You would be free from all worldly problems. You would be immortal."

Blair sat up straight and pulled his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs protectively. "You are kidding," he stated, incredulous.

"No."

"Are you nuts?"

"Most definitely."

"You can't be serious about this," Blair almost shouted, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

Simon looked quite serious when he moved even closer. When he saw Blair's anxiety, he chuckled. "Well, now that you mentioned it, no, I'm not."

"What?" Blair demanded.

"I'm not serious. I was just enjoying my favorite past time: human baiting. They are very easy to irritate."

Blair relaxed slightly and gave the man a disgusted look. "You are an asshole."

Simon laughed yet again, thoroughly enjoying himself. "That I am most definitely." Simon cocked his head. "Were you serious?"

Blair put his chin on his knees. "About what?" He watched Simon closely, trying to understand the nature of such a creature and what his life must be like.

"Seeing my fangs."

Blair's head came up. "Really? Hell, yes. I've never met a vampire before."

"So you said," Simon answered, once again smiling. He opened his mouth for Blair's examination.

"Oh, cool!" Blair scooted forward, fascinated at the extended canine teeth. "Can you make them retract?" While Blair watched, they returned to normal. Blair sat back, amazed. "Just how old are you?"

"Two thousand years, give or take a few decades."

"Do you remember how you became a vampire?"

Simon laughed out loud. "Do you wish for the sympathetically revised version or the truth?"

Now Blair laughed. "You have more than one version?"

"Yes. It depends on the circumstances. I told Bassett the sympathetic version." At the mention of Bassett's name, Blair blanched and lay back against the pillows. Simon saw the pale face and realized what he had done. "He will never bother you again."

Blair's unhappy eyes met Simon's. One eyebrow shot up in question.

"I took care of it. He will never bother you or Joseph again. Don't expect me to apologize for my actions. It is not in my nature."

Blair lay quietly for a long minute before he said softly, "This means that you and Joe won't have to run and hide any longer?"

Simon shrugged. "This means that, for the most part, the driving force behind Delphi will no longer be hunting Joseph and me. Or you, for that matter. You both are much safer today than you were yesterday."

Blair swallowed hard. "Thank you, Simon, for helping to rescue me."

Simon grinned. "You're welcome. Now I think you should allow me to help you down the stairs. I've been instructed to feed you. Joseph would be very unhappy if I fail to heed his instructions."

Blair laughed. "Okay. I guess I am a bit hungry. And I need the bathroom before I embarrass myself."

Simon laughed and helped Blair to his feet. "I do like you, Blair Sandburg. You remind me of someone else whom I hold very dear."

Jim Ellison hated the very idea that when Blair woke up, he wouldn't be with him. He hoped that his lover wasn't too upset, but when Simon called and ordered him into his office, he had no choice. They spent a couple of hours tying up loose ends. An over-enthusiastic reporter picked up on the APB while scanning the police bands and ran a story about the missing police officer. The woman who had been unwittingly part of Blair's kidnapping had come to the station to turn herself in after seeing the news reports about the kidnapped detective. She was finally convinced to go home after being reassured that the police officer in question was safe and sound. She felt incredibly guilty about accepting the money she had taken, but Simon also convinced her that it was hers to keep since she came forward with the information. She was a much happier person after speaking to the men, and Simon had Rafe and Henri escort her safely home.

Simon had Jim make a statement to the press that his partner had been returned unharmed. He explained that the detective had been drugged and had no idea who had kidnapped him, where he had been held, or why they had released him unharmed the following day. The assailants were being sought at the present time. His statement was accepted without question and the story about the missing detective was relegated to the back pages after the public was notified that the officer was healthy and happy.

Finally, Jim was able to leave and he headed first to Mario's for Blair's favorite, Italian minestrone soup. He also bought a freshly baked loaf of bread and something for dessert. Jim wasn't sure how hungry Blair would be after his ordeal, but he hoped to coax some of the nourishing food into his lover. He stopped for a gallon of orange juice and a two-liter bottle of ginger ale for his ailing partner. When he arrived at the loft, Jim was surprised but pleased to see Blair lounging on the sofa, looking much better than the night before, and talking to Joe.

Two sets of blue eyes met Jim's when he came through the door. Joe hopped up and helped with the food bags. Jim relinquished his purchases to Joe and immediately went to his lover's side. He slipped to his knees and his hands examined his Guide.

"Blair, I'm sorry I had to leave you," Jim said contritely, taking Blair's hand in his. He rubbed the cool skin between his warm palms. "How are you feeling?"

"Jim! God, it's good to see you!" Blair slid an arm around Jim's neck and pulled him close for a one-arm hug.

Jim's arms circled his mate. "Missed you."

"Me, too."

"So how are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually."

Jim pulled back and looked at his lover's face. He put a hand on each cheek. "You look much better than last night. Thank God. I've brought you minestrone from Mario's."

"Oh, man. Thanks! I'm starved." Blair's eyes were clear and bright and Jim scanned his mate thoroughly. He was yet again surprised at how well Blair seemed after his ordeal. He was alert and calm. The circles that had been under his eyes were almost gone and when Jim inspected each arm that had been damaged from needle marks and the too tight restraints, he was puzzled that most of the scrapes and bruises were healing rapidly.

"Geez, Chief. You're doing a lot better than I thought you'd be doing."

Blair raised an eyebrow. "What kind of thing is that to say, Jim? You think I should be feeling badly and falling apart?"

"No! No, Blair, that's not it at all. Don't get mad at me. I'm just a bit surprised, is all, considering your condition last night." Jim took Blair's hand. "Believe me, I'm thrilled you're feeling better." Jim glanced up at Joe who hovered in the kitchen, looking as if he felt out of place because of the private conversation. "Joe? How is he, in your professional opinion?"

Blair rolled his eyes and Joe chuckled at his brother. He gave Blair an affectionate glance before he answered. "He's doing very well. I checked him out as soon as I came in and he's well on the road to recovery."

Blair grinned. "See, told you. I'm great. Now how about some of that food?"

Joe's grin mirrored Blair's. "Sure. Coming right up. I've set the table. You guys go ahead and eat."

Jim rose. "Blair? You up for sitting at the table or should I serve you on the sofa?"

Blair gave Jim an exasperated look. "The table is fine. I'm fine. And I'm starving. Let's eat."

In spite of Blair's declarations, Jim insisted that he help Blair to his feet and planted him in a chair. "Joe, you're eating with us," Jim said when he saw that only two places had been set.

Joe blushed under Jim's amused scrutiny. "Ah, thanks. That'd be good." He grabbed a bowl and joined them at the table.

Blair smiled at his brother. "Joe, you're not company. You're family. Please don't feel like you need to be invited. I'm more than happy to share everything with you." Blair's eyes caressed his lover. "Well, almost everything," he added with a grin.

Joe laughed. Jim blushed. The soup was delicious; the bread disappeared quickly, along with the half-dozen canoli Jim had bought for dessert. While they ate, the three men talked about everyday things. No one mentioned Blair's kidnapping and rescue, or Delphi. After dinner, Joe helped Jim clean up after they both insisted Blair rest on the sofa yet again in spite of his protests that he was fine.

When the dishes were done, Joe followed Jim into the living room and stood with his hands in his pockets. "Simon and I are taking off tonight. We always travel at night and he's restless."

Jim sat next to Blair and nodded. "Thanks again for the help."

"Sure. It was my pleasure."

"When will I see you again?" Blair asked.

"Soon. It will be easier now that... well, it's just easier. I'll be in touch and we'll make those arrangements."

Blair gave his brother a smile. "Cool. I'll get in touch with Naomi and we'll have a family reunion."

Joe shifted uncomfortably. "Do you always think so positively, Blair? You don't even know if she'll see me."

"Yeah, man. It's a bad habit of mine. How could she not want to see you? You're her son and my brother. Things will work out. You'll see."

"You haven't even spoken with her yet! Maybe you know she'll reject me. That's why you've waited this long."

Blair gave his brother an exasperated look. "Joe, I told you. I've thought about you every single day since we met. I've just been really busy and I had a lot of thinking to do."

Joe's skeptical look had Blair blushing. Blair threw up his hands. "Okay. Okay. I'm still pissed at her for not telling me about you years ago. I promise I'll talk to her very soon. Call me?"

Joe still looked a bit undecided, but one look at Blair's pleading face and he knew he couldn't deny his brother's request. He sighed softly. "Okay, Blair. I'll call. I'll catch you later. Bye, Jim."

"'Night, Joe. Take care," Jim said. "Tell Simon thanks."

Blair added, "Tell him I said good-bye, and thanks."

"He doesn't do good-byes but I'll pass on the thanks. Bye, Blair."

"Joe, it will work. You'll see. I promise," Blair stated adamantly.

Joe finally smiled and said softly, "Take care of each other." Joe opened the door and after a last wave, he left.

The second the door closed, Jim turned to Blair and wrapped his arms around him. He buried his nose in his hair and murmured, "Finally, we're alone. God, Blair, I was so worried about you. I still am." Jim pulled back and once again scanned his lover intently.

Blair scowled. "Jim, I already told you, I feel just great. Nothing hurts. Please don't keep staring at me like I've grown a tail."

"Sorry, Chief. It's just..." Jim searched for words.

Blair moved closer and leaned against Jim. "You haven't even kissed me yet. Man, I'm losing my touch. One small kidnapping and you don't want me any more," he said teasingly.

Jim slipped an arm around Blair's shoulders and squeezed him gently. "Never. You and me are forever, you know that." With a quick motion, Jim tugged Blair so that he cradled him in his arms. He looked down into his lover's face and smiled. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was really scared." He leaned down and lightly kissed Blair's soft lips.

Blair's hand snaked around Jim's neck and he returned the kiss tenderly. When they parted, Blair licked his lips. "Hmmm. You taste good, Jim. I've missed you."

Jim grinned at his lover. "And you're still recovering, Chief, so no strenuous activities for a few days."

Blair laughed. "Man, you are such a spoilsport." He signed dramatically and scooted down, putting his head in Jim's lap. "At least turn on the tube, Jim. We might as well watch the Jags."

Jim laughed, ruffling his lover's hair. He turned on the television and they settled down for a night of basketball and cuddling.

Jim lay face down in the middle of the bed, his body covered with a glistening sheen of sweat. He moaned deeply when his lover's hands spread his legs and his body was prepared thoroughly. Trembling when the fingers massaged his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure into every fiber of his being. He thrust his hips, seeking friction, searching for release. Whimpering and panting his need, lifting his hips wantonly, begging for more. Laughing, his lover replaced the fingers with what Jim needed, with what he begged for. Jim sighed deeply with satisfaction when his lover entered his body with one slick push. When the head brushed his special place, he cried out with gratification and clenched his muscles around his lover's erection.

Jim felt his lover tense when he gripped the hardness inside of him tightly, and heard his panting breaths next to his ear when he leaned down to lightly nibble along his shoulder. Relishing the fingers digging into his hips, and savoring each thrust, Jim angled his hips so that on each forward thrust his mate was buried deeply inside his body. He encouraged his lover to take him harder, and reached between his legs to stroke his own dick that was full and aching for release. A strong hand pushed his own hand away and a firm grasp around his erection made him gasp when it began stroking with the perfect pressure.

Each thrust attacked his prostate. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge. He was pounded into harder and harder. Attuned to Jim's body, his lover kept him teetering on the edge for a long while before he was allowed to fall. Finally, after a deep thrust and a final caress, he tumbled. Howling and spurting explosively over the sheets, he was still screaming his release when he was pushed flat onto the bed. A hand on the back of his head held his face against the pillow and Jim held his breath in anticipation. His lover thrust twice more before his own orgasm was pulled from him by Jim's contracting muscles. He vocalized his release loudly and Jim trembled when the hot semen spurted into his channel.

Jim's penis gave a final spurt. He moaned and tried to raise his head for a breath of air, but the hand refused to let him rise. That was when he felt it. He screamed into the pillow when pain overwhelmed him. He felt the fangs break the skin on his neck. He knew precisely when they entered his jugular and he could feel each sucking motion as the life force was drained from his body quickly. He tried to scream again, but his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. He flailed his arm desperately, trying to push away the cause of his distress. His wrist was pinned quickly and the hands holding him down used their superhuman strength easily. He struggled futilely and his senses shrieked in protest. He heard the horrible slurping noises that echoed next to his ear while his mate drank his body dry and with one last strangled cry, he screamed his lover's name. "Blair!" The darkness crashed down.

Jim awoke from the nightmare, yelling Blair's name at the top of his lungs. Blair woke with a start and flew to his knees.

"Jim! For God's sake, Jim! Wake up!" Blair shook Jim's shoulders harshly when he failed to respond and the shouts kept coming. "Jim!" Blair clamped a hand on either side of his face and forced Jim's eyes to meet his. "Jim! Please! Wake up!"

Jim blinked once, twice. He shuddered and his mouth hung open. Sweat dripped down his face and into his eyes. Blair grabbed a corner of the sheet and wiped it away.

"Damn it, Jim. Please, man. Please talk to me," he cajoled softly.

Jim's body slowly folded. Blair caught him around the shoulders and gently laid him back against the pillows. He raced down the stairs to the bathroom and dampened a washcloth in cool water. He grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge and quickly returned to Jim's side where he tenderly wiped his face and chest.

Jim slowly became aware of his surroundings. He shuddered a few times and rubbed his face with his hands. "Blair?" he whispered haltingly.

"Yeah, Jim. I'm here. Are you with me?"

"Yeah, I think so. Oh, God. That was horrible."

"What, Jim? What kind of nightmare was it? You scared the shit out of me." Blair rubbed Jim's shoulder and arm soothingly. "You want a drink of water?"

"Yes, please." Jim sat up and the room swam. He reached out a hand and teetered. He shook his head to clear it.

"Whoa, Jim." Blair grabbed his hand to steady him. "Take nice, deep, even breaths. Come on. In and out."

Jim shut his eyes and struggled to control his breathing. After a few moments, he finally managed to take a couple of even breaths.

"Good job, Jim. Have a drink of water." Blair popped the top and held the bottle to Jim's lips.

Jim wrapped a hand around Blair's and drank the cool liquid. He licked his lips and gave his lover a shaky smile. "Thanks, Chief."

"So tell me what the nightmare was about."

Jim ran a hand over his forehead. "I'd rather not. It will just make you upset."

"Geez, Jim. You're really freaking me out, man. You'd better tell me or I'll never get to sleep."

Jim sighed. "Promise me you won't get upset."

Blair rolled his eyes. "I promise I'll try not to get upset."

"Blair!"

"Sorry," Blair said with a shrug. "That's the best I can do. So tell me."

"You were a... a vampire. You made love to me and then you bit me." Jim closed his eyes. "I think I was dying." He shivered, remembering the dream vividly.

Blair looked at Jim incredulously before he burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Jim said with a scowl.

"S... ssorry, J... Jim, but I think it's pretty darned f.. fun.. ny." Blair held his sides and rolled to his back, giggling.

Blair took one look at Jim's face, saw the pursed lips, and he wiped his teary eyes. "Sorry, Jim. Really I am, but come on. I'm here. Look at me. I'm fine. Almost all of the bruises are gone. Look." Blair sat up and held out his arms. "I feel pretty darned good for a guy who was kidnapped and shot full of God knows what. Please, Jim. Be happy for me." Blair raised an eyebrow. "Besides, do I look like a vampire?" He opened his mouth wide for Jim to inspect his teeth. He closed it after Jim gave them a cursory glance. Jim looked so upset that Blair was instantly sympathetic. "Everything will be okay, Jim," he said sincerely.

Jim took one look at Blair's pleading face and sincere eyes and he melted. "I am happy, Chief. Thrilled beyond words, believe me." He turned to face Blair and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I love you more than life itself. I don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to you." Jim kissed the side of Blair's face. "You have to believe me, Blair."

Blair turned sparkling blue eyes on his mate. "I believe you, Jim. Man, I love you. You know that. Geez." Blair chuckled. "Come on. Lay back down. You look like you can use a few more hours sleep." Jim lay down and patiently allowed Blair to arrange their bodies until they were both comfortable. With a few wiggles, pulls and prods, he got Jim settled on his side and he spooned his back up against Jim's front. Jim slipped an arm around Blair's chest and pressed his warm hand against his mate's heart. Blair covered Jim's hand with his own.

"See? It's beating nice and steady. I'm fine, Jim." Blair yawned and snuggled in closer. "You going to be able to sleep, Jim?" he murmured sleepily.

"I think so. I feel better after talking to you."

Blair turned his face and grinned at his lifemate.

Jim lifted his head and returned the smile before leaning over slightly and brushing his lips over Blair's tenderly. The Sentinel chalked up the subtle differences in his mate to his miraculous recovery. The glow of Blair's skin. The brightness of his eyes. What he didn't see was the imperceptible lengthening of the canine teeth and the modest gain in Blair's physical strength.

"'Night, my love," Jim said sweetly, mesmerized by the sparkling sapphire blue eyes that looked at him so lovingly.

Pleased, Blair gave Jim a radiant smile. He plumped the pillow with his free hand and laid his head back down. He stayed very still, listening to Jim's breathing carefully until he heard it. Once Blair knew Jim was asleep, with a contented smile on his face, he fell asleep also.