Title : In the Wild
Author : YS McCool
Rating : PG
Date : 21 January 1998
Series : Upgrade # 8

Warnings: None

Summary : Jim and Blair travel to a primitive world to hone Jim's Sentinel skills.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Sentinel characters, nor do I make a claim on them. Those characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. Original characters are the sole property of the author, YS McCool.

Upgrade # 8
In the Wild
By YS McCool

Simon looked at the request on his screen. After a moment's thought, he signed his approval and sent it on to Joel for his counter-signature. He leaned back in his chair. 'What could possibly happen to them?' he thought, as he went back to reading his reports.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Claudia placed the small ribbon-bound package in Jim's hand. "A journey of discovery needs a chronicle," she said before giving him a kiss.

Jim carefully unwound the ribbon and opened the cotton handkerchiefs that served as a wrapping. Inside was a leather bound journal of lined *paper*, pages and pages of paper. Hooked to the side was a beautiful silver stylus with his name hand engraved upon it. "It's beautiful." He looked into her sparkling eyes. "I've never had a journal before. The closest I've come is a military log."

"There should be no electronics between your inner thoughts and their expression," she said firmly.

He smiled. "Thank you. I'll write in it every day."

"Good." She pulled his head down and kissed him. "Take care of yourself out there." They kissed again. "And take care of Blair. You'll need to be strong for him when he starts to go through withdrawal."

"Withdrawal?" Jim asked, puzzled.

"This will be the first time he'll be away from a datapad since he first started wearing long pants," Claudia explained. "It might be traumatic."

Jim chuckled. "I think he might surprise you. Blair has a little bit of the savage in him."

"Very little," Claudia quipped. "My cousin, whom I love dearly, is a very civilized man. He's used to having his meals on time and instant access to any information or entertainment he might want."

"He may surprise you," Jim assured her. Ellison knew his friend was much tougher than his public persona would ever let on.

"I hope so. He's prone to go after life in a head-on manner." Claudia smiled. "Blair is a man of passion."

"I know. It's one of the many things I admire about him." Jim placed the leather bound paper journal in his bag, along with the beautiful stylus. "Time to go," he said softly. They shared another kiss before walking downstairs, hand-in-hand.

Blair and Jet were in a clinch that Maxine was pointedly ignoring. She mouthed the phrase "in heat" to Claudia and Jim.

"Will you miss me?" Blair asked Jet between kisses.

"Desperately," Jet moaned against his lips. Jim wondered briefly if he could slide an old-fashioned piece of paper between them.

"One more kiss and we leave, Chief," Jim said reasonably, knowing that reason itself was being kept in a multi-locked box while Jet and Blair explored purely physical responses.

Blair pinned Jet against the wall, kissing her hard and fierce. Jim grabbed his partner's arm and started pulling when it looked like they weren't going anywhere.

"Jim!" Blair complained. "I need a six-week supply of kisses from Jet."

"Your tank is full," Jim said firmly as he pulled the smaller man along. "We can't miss our rendezvous with the transport ship."

Hawthorne was waiting beside the car with Blair's bag. "Perhaps you would like this, Sir," he said as he placed the bag in the car.

"Thanks, Hawthorne," Blair said gratefully. "I was unduly hustled out of the house by my overeager partner."

"Yes, Sir," Hawthorne said levelly. What the older man was really thinking was left between him and his maker.

"Okay, Hawthorne, we're off," Blair announced with finality. The trick to getting on with a trip was to make a definitive start. Jim was grateful that they were finally going. "We will check the messages at the car once a week. See you in six weeks. Try not to have too many dancing girls in the house." Blair opened the driver's door.

"I'll try to keep the merriment to a minimum, Sir," he said dryly.

"Jim, should I physically restrain Jet from rushing into Blair's arms?" Maxine asked as she hovered beside her much smaller colleague.

"It might be a wise precaution," Jim replied. Claudia rushed into his arms, and they kissed. "Goodbye. I'm sure that Blair will keep me safe."

"Bye," Claudia responded wistfully, making Jim want to use those six weeks making a more intimate exploration of Claudia instead of such a personal journey.

Blair got behind the wheel, Jim dived into the APV, and they took off. Sandburg maneuvered the APV into the bay of their transport ship and docked. Jim was surprised to see that they had a suite and not just sleeping chambers for the six-day trip to New Eden. Trust Blair to go first class on their way to a true primitive world.

New Eden was a planet held in trust for the Rosenbergs, who were Naomi's family. Instead of developing the planet 200 years ago, the family had put it in trust for future generations. Endangered species were transplanted to Eden and left to make it on their own. Most species survived when they were left in pristine settings with absolutely no interference from man.

Jim knew that there had been some pressure from several politicians and special interest groups that didn't want a planet eminently suited for colonization by man to be left strictly for animals, but the Rosenbergs--particularly Naomi and her sister Helaine, who headed the Rosenberg family trust--had held firm. The planet and the animals were to be left alone.

It was to this world that Blair and Jim were traveling. Away from modern conveniences, crowds, and other interference, they hoped to be able to transform theory to reality in regards to using Jim's natural skills.

Jim had no worries about his ability to survive--he had survived in much worse conditions with people shooting at him. But Blair was, as Claudia so carefully put it, a civilized man. They were under severe restrictions on what they could take down in Blair's car, which would have to be left at the cleared landing site. It would be only what they could carry on their backs when they left the vehicle storage site and traveled to where they would make camp.

How would Blair do without a datapad at hand? He didn't bring those thoughts up with Blair. Why make the man anxious before they even got there?

Their travel days were taken up with meditation, tracking exercises, and the study of the flora and fauna of New Eden, especially those species that had been transported there.

When they arrived, it was with a barely contained excitement that Jim and Blair descended to the surface of New Eden. The APV was placed in a modified cave and sealed. The two men shouldered their packs and made their way to their first chosen campsite.

Jim set an easy pace in deference to the inexperience of his partner. It took them just over four hours to make it to their campsite. Set high on bluffs overlooking a gently curving river, their site was selected for the wide variety of food growing there, access to fresh water, fish, and the ability to watch for the large herd animals that favored the area.

While they set up the tent, a huge herd of buffalo crossed the river.

"Jim, count the buffalo," Blair ordered.

"Count them?" Jim asked.

"Yes."

"They all look alike," Ellison reported.

Blair sighed. "No, they are all individuals. Give me a precise count like you would if you had to testify." He pointed at the herd. "Don't think of them as animals; equate them with an advancing army. Think of your ancestor, Frederick. His scouting reports saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives. How did he give such accurate counts when the UE soldiers would have *all* looked alike in their battle armor? Don't dismiss this, Jim."

Ellison had no idea what this would prove--buffalos as enemy soldiers? How could Blair contradict any number he gave him? But his teacher had asked him, so he would try.

Blair had said that every buffalo was an individual, and that he needed a count. Concentrating, Jim looked for any individual characteristics so that he could make sure that he didn't count the same individual twice.

When he turned back to give Blair his count, the tent was set up and dinner was simmering in the pot.

"How many?" Blair asked quietly.

"18,922," Jim reported.

"Do you feel confident enough in that number to risk lives on its accuracy?" Blair inquired without taking his attention from the pot he was tending.

Jim thought about it. Could he risk his army on that number? "No."

"Then we have a lot of work to do." Blair stirred the food in the pot. "It's my job to get you to that confidence level."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim slept like the dead that first night. The breeze from the river had made the sleeping temperature in the tent perfect. Cold-natured Blair had not stirred the entire night. It had been four years since the doctor had slept outdoors, and Jim had worried that all the natural sounds would bother his friend, but they hadn't.

"Morning, Blair," Jim said as he rolled up his sleeping bag.

"Morning," Blair responded as he got out of his bag. "Wow, I really slept well."

"So did I." They put away their night gear. "Let's get some breakfast. We're going to need our strength for all that climbing." Blair led the way to the river while Jim followed. The younger man stripped and plunged into the water.

"You've scared away all the fish," Jim complained.

"We're not having fish, Jim," Blair countered. "We're having nectar fruit and padas. I will climb the tree and duly slaughter the nectars for you."

"You're so brave, Blair. Padas go for the nostrils," he teased. Jim climbed into the river. The water was slightly chilly and bracing.

"Funny." Sandburg splashed Jim, then dashed out of the water, toweled off, and dressed. Jim climbed out of the river, dressed, and watched Blair fuss his long hair into place. There was a skill he would never need.

The younger man climbed the nectar tree with all of the skill of a jungle boy and tossed down the treasure to Jim. On Earth, nectar fruit was the most expensive fruit known, and this morning he was holding a month's salary worth in the folds of his towel.

Blair gathered several flowers, leaves, berries, and roots before settling down beside Jim. He placed the tough skin of the nectar fruit into their smallest cooking pot and added several other items from his early morning forages.

"Whatever you're making, Chief, it smells delicious," Jim remarked after inhaling deeply.

"It's a combination sun screen and bug repellant," Blair reported.

"I don't know about that, Chief," Jim replied worriedly. "We'll smell so good that we may miss the insects just to attract a large predator that thinks we've saved it the trouble of seasoning us."

After their breakfast they spent several minutes covering every inch of their skins in the sweet smelling oil. Jim hated to admit it, but it worked perfectly well, even if he smelled like he was wearing an exotic perfume. It was a good thing his fellow RO weren't nearby, or he'd never hear the end of their ribbing. Come to think of it, he had a very short list of RO he would have brought along on this kind of adventure. Simon, Jet, Maxine, Ken, Jason, Henry, and Amber were the only ones whose names came immediately to mind. It wasn't that he didn't think the rest could survive or that he didn't enjoy spending time with them, but here, where technology had no hold, so many of them would be lost without the things they thought represented civilization.

Such big thoughts so early in the morning. Jim's untrained head might explode.

Setting a moderate pace, Jim led the way to the original explorer's landing site. Located 3.5 kilometers south of their first campsite, the landing site would provide Jim an uninterrupted vista of the surrounding land.

After their first break, Jim quickened their pace. The dark clouds promised rain, and there was no shelter around. The last thing he wanted to do was bring Blair home ill because the other man wanted to help him.

Blair kept pace with Jim, even when they started the more difficult climb up Thimble Mountain, so named for its overall shape. They seemed to have arrived at the height of the growing season, and the place was a horticulturalist's dream. He had almost lost count of the wonderful berries, wild apples, and orange varieties he had seen.

Jim reached back, braced on their climbing rope, and helped Blair up the slope--they had made it. The landing site was the almost flat top of Thimble Mountain. The sand-turned-to-glass areas were the only spots on it that weren't covered in long swaying grass. He tried to imagine the behemoth that had landed in this place and could just barely grasp it in his mind.

"Still with me, Jim?" Blair asked.

"Yeah, Chief. I was just thinking about the size of the ship that would have left thruster marks so far apart." Jim counted the paces between two thruster marks. "I can see it my head, but the scope of it is..." Jim trailed off in thought.

Blair nodded. "Yeah, and most of the ship would have been taken up with engines. Only 90 crew members on that ship. Can you imagine? A ship that size would hold over 1000 today."

Jim checked the clouds and saw that their time was running out. "We need to find a good spot to pitch the tent for the night. The rain should be starting in a few minutes."

"Can you feel the pressure on your sinuses?" Blair asked casually.

"Yes. I can also smell ozone," Jim reported.

"How much has the temperature dropped since we started our ascent?" Sandburg inquired as he pulled their gear out of his pack.

"Almost eight degrees," Jim reported as he moved closer to his friend and helped.

Blair smiled and touched Jim's shoulder, causing Ellison to look his friend fuller in the eyes. "Amazing," he said softly. "No matter how many times I see you do something new, I never lose my sense of awe over you."

If Jim still had it in him to blush, he would have. Blair in awe of him? He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like a thank you and went back to setting up camp.

By the time the rain had begun in earnest, Blair had finished preparing their supper of vegetable stew. They ate heartily as the climb had been strenuous.

While the rain beat on the tent, Jim and Blair wrote in their journals. Jim had meant simply to note all the vegetation that he had seen on the climb, but instead found himself speculating about those early explorers who had simply scattered seeds and hoped. Claudia had been right. If he had used a datapad, he would have erased all of those unscheduled thoughts, and his journal would have been the poorer for it. It was his chronicle, and he shouldn't censor himself.

The post-rain air was brisk. Jim climbed out of the tent with Blair and made the circuit of the flat top of Thimble Mountain. It took just over two hours, but during that time he gained several reference points for their further exploration.

The morning descent would take less than a fourth of the time it took them to climb the mountain, and they would make good progress once they were back to the shores of the river. With their route planned, he and Blair returned to their tent.

Jim awoke cold. He had snickered when he watched Blair unpack his thermal blanket--they were in a temperate zone, but now he wished he had also packed one. The rain had left the air moist, and the wind running up the mountain was chill.

They had flattened their sleeping bags out and stacked them to cushion their bodies from the hard ground, so Jim couldn't zip his bag closed for warmth. Teeth chattering, he climbed under the thermal blanket with Blair. Their combined body temperatures soon had him warm, and he was able to return to sleep with the comforting sound of his teacher's heartbeat and breathing.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Their early morning target was a natural hot springs just north of the mountain. The descent from the mountain had been easy on Blair, and Jim was able to set a more strenuous pace. They arrived at the springs well before their scheduled noon break.

Jim set up camp while Blair prepared for Jim's dream quest. There were herbs that Jim needed to consume, prayers, and a ritual bathing--clean body, clear mind.

Blair acted as Jim's Shaman as he was bathed in the spring. Jim had seen these rituals performed during his time in the Deep Space Rangers. Some of their best scouts and recovery people observed First Ones' rites, but he was unfamiliar with all the steps that were necessary.

Nude, Jim assumed the lotus position and prayed for guidance in his quest to become the best Sentinel that it was possible for him to become. He was able to relax totally because he had Blair watching him. His mind drifted from thought to thought, never lingering long, until he came to a time before he had become a Retrieval Officer.

He was on a scouting mission, searching desperately for two hostages who some pirates had taken to use as shields while escaping the local constable. Jim had followed a scent, a scent that no one else could detect, to a hidden shelter and the pirates. The pirates died, the hostages, two young women, had been rescued.

It was one of the women he had smelled. She had received her anti-pregnancy shot the morning before she was taken, and the hormonal smell on her skin had drawn Jim like a beacon. When he had been with Carolyn, he could always tell when she had taken her booster by the way she smelled, but she had to be in his arms for that. He had tracked this young woman for many kilometers by the scent clinging to her skin.

Carolyn. He hadn't thought about her for years. She had been in his class in the Deep Space Rangers. A great tactician, she had been assigned to headquarters while Jim had gone further into space. They could have married, or at least he had thought so, but here he was years later, with no regrets about her. She had needed something that he hadn't been able to give her at the time--his full attention.

He left the thought of Carolyn alone and thought about that tracking, returning to that first time that he remembered using his enhanced senses.

Instantly he was racing through the woods, tracking, tracking, tracking. He was following a fox. Wild and hungry, he gave chase. Jim snarled as he pounced the smaller creature and held it down with his massive black paws. It would be so easy to tear out the creature's throat.

"Jim, you're hurting me," Blair said.

Ellison sniffed the creature's slender throat. Blair. The fox was Blair. Why did he want to kill Blair?

"No Blair, no teacher. No teacher and no Sentinel. No Sentinel... and you can reactivate your chip," the trees whispered.

Did he want to end his time as a Sentinel? Did he want to return to being an ordinary man whose enhanced senses came from a miracle of science and not a miracle of nature?

The panther licked the throat of his prey, and his tongue encountered not fur, but skin--sweet, tasty skin. The taste reminded him of a smell.... the sunblock and insect repellant Blair had made for them. It had worked so well. Despite the brilliant sunlight and plentiful insects, his fur had been unmolested. Not his fur, his skin. He wasn't covered in fur. He was a man.

He gazed down at the fox he had captured and watched its features melt into Blair--his teacher, his Shaman. Jim reeled backwards, releasing the smaller man he had been holding down. "Blair! I... I..." Jim leaned toward Blair only to watch the younger man recoil. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yes," Blair said simply.

Jim's teeth were chattering even though he was not cold. At least not on the outside. "I'm sorry. I was a panther, and you--"

Blair's normally warm eyes were as cold as space. "I was your prey."

"No! It couldn't have been like that. I was remembering the first time I used my enhanced senses. It's all a little jumbled now, but I *never* wanted to hurt you," Jim rambled.

Blair got to his feet. "I need to walk around a bit. Don't follow me."

Jim started to get off his butt. "Blair--"

Blair pushed Jim back down hard and for the briefest second, Jim thought he was going to strike him. "Write it all down in your journal, and we'll discuss it when I come back."

Ellison was insanely relieved to hear that Blair planned on returning, even though they were light years from anyone and two-days walk from the car. "Okay," he agreed.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Blair didn't run, for that he was grateful. Jim had scared the shit out of him. Growling, snarling, pinning him down, and licking his throat as if he were about to tear it out. He shivered. The larger man had come back to himself, but now Blair had some serious thinking to do. He trusted Jim with his life, but that ... creature hadn't been Jim. What could he do if 'Jim the panther' returned?

He found himself on the bank of a creek. The swiftly running water contained many fish, some he recognized from his edible list. He waded into the water and stood. At first, the fish swam around him, but as he stood silently, they began swimming right through his legs. He scooped fish after fish onto the bank.

"The dreaming time is when the teacher is most vulnerable to their Sentinel. The teacher or guide represents aspects of the Sentinel--his doubts, his fears, his desires, and his goals. This is a time of testing, both for the Sentinel and the teacher. It will either bond you for life as you need to be, or forever destroy the partnership." Those words, so simply stated, came back to Blair now. This was a test. Fail it, and he failed Jim, possibly forever. He had to go back and complete the rituals. Jim was counting on him, and he was counting on himself. ~I won't fail you, Jim.~

Satisfied with his haul he walked out of the water. Sniffing around his catch were five Guardian pups, their sheer size letting him know that he wasn't looking at dogs.

"Shoo," Blair said as he waved his arms. "I caught those. Go get your own."

The pups gave him a dismissive look before picking out two of his fish and trotting off with them in their salivating mouths. Blair didn't want his fish after the pups had them in their mouths and dragged them through the dirt, but he was still miffed they would take his food.

Blair pulled down a vine, strung the rest of his catch on it, and headed back to their campsite. He was proud that he hadn't gotten lost and was able to locate their camp without any wrong turns.

Jim had put on his shorts, and he was writing furiously in his journal as the sun lowered in the sky. He dropped the book when Blair entered the clearing, sprung to his feet, and pulled the smaller man into his arms for a tight hug. "Blair, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please?"

"I will, but tell me what or who you thought I was." Blair stepped back from Jim.

"You were a fox that I was chasing in the woods. I was a panther. I captured you." Jim waved toward the forest. "The trees wanted me to kill you."

"Why?"

"Without you, I would become an ordinary man. I would lose my Sentinel abilities," Jim related shamefully.

"Do you believe that?" Blair inquired, keeping his voice soft and not accusing.

"No," Jim said quickly. "With you or without you, they would still be there. But without you, they would never fully be under my control."

Blair nodded. "Here's dinner." He handed the fish to Jim. "You can cook them."

"Okay," Jim said as he stared at the string of fish.

"I saw five Guardian pups at the creek," Blair reported. "They took two of my fish, the little thieves."

"Blair, there aren't supposed to be *any* Guardians here," Jim protested.

"I know that." Blair crossed his arms and watched Jim closely as he gutted and cleaned the fish. "I'm sure those pups didn't get here on their own. They showed no fear of me, so I'm guessing that they have no experience with humans."

"Did you see any sign of adults?" Jim asked.

"I'm not a tracker, Jim, but where there are pups, there are adults. We need to give them a very wide berth." Blair pulled out his journal and wrote three quick pages about his experience with Jim and the pups. It didn't calm his mind. Only time could do that.

Jim speared the filleted fish on sticks and placed them over the fire. "Blair, I want you to know that you can still trust me."

"I know that," Blair assured him, "but tell me what you were seeing."

While the fish cooked, Jim remembered the first time he had used his enhanced senses. He recalled the isolation of that planet, a desert world so different from this green place. He had tracked for five days. Jim could recall no time before that where he had been as focused. Then it slipped from him, and he was no longer tracking those kidnapped colonists, he was hunting the fox, and he had found Blair.

Blair watched Jim's eyes glint cat-like in the fire. "Did you want to kill the fox?"

"I knew I *could* kill it, but I didn't *want* to kill it," Jim reported.

"Do you think that setting aside your Sentinel abilities will mean you can use your chip again?" Blair had to ask. If Jim was still pining for his chip, then they had a major stumbling block before them in their goal of controlling Jim's senses.

"I hadn't thought about it that way before, but yeah, I guess I must at least sub-consciously believe it." Jim looked very uncomfortable. Emotional issues did that to him.

"Don't, because it's not true," Blair informed Jim. "Your brain is configured to naturally receive enhanced sensory input. Your brain will never be satisfied with the chip again. It would be like suddenly seeing only in black and white. You were born to be a Sentinel."

Jim nodded and silently turned the fish. "I was born to be a Sentinel," he agreed.

They ate quietly. By the light of the fire, Blair made further entries into his journal; trying to put the terror he felt when he was suddenly pinned underneath a growling Jim into more coherent words. His first entries were full of anger and accusations. Thus highly unproductive. So he wanted to try again.

He had never felt so helpless before, not even when Miller Hansel had captured him. Blair had managed to get away from Hansel, but he couldn't break away from Jim because he had been unwilling to hurt the larger man to escape. It was counter-survival. Watching Jim through his lashes, Blair suddenly knew he could move against the other man now. He *could* override his protective instincts to survive.

As they prepared to sleep for the night, Jim made himself a sleeping sack in the trees. Before climbing up for the night, he placed his knife in Blair's hands. It felt oddly heavy and cold in Blair's hand.

"Don't be afraid to use it, even on me," Jim instructed.

Sandburg couldn't answer. His heart had managed to close off his throat.

Blair didn't sleep well that night. He kept turning their situation over in his mind. Jim recognized the fox as his teacher. Could the attack be a rejection on Jim's part of Blair's role in his training? Could Blair's inexperience be the reason Jim had nearly hurt him?

But there were no living teachers currently available on Earth; Blair had checked thoroughly. He had to consider off world sources for help now. If Jim had doubts, that was enough to affect the fragile balance of his senses. Jim's safety and sanity were more important than Blair's ego. He had to find his friend a better teacher.

But was there a better teacher? Who would Jim trust? From all his experiences with the older man, Blair knew Jim parted with the phrase "trusted" very rarely. Without that trust, no matter how skilled the teacher might be, Jim would not benefit from his or her help. It was Blair or no one for Jim. Blair had to rise to the occasion for his friend's sake and his own.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim hadn't slept. He kept seeing the terror on the face of his dearest friend as he was held in the grasp of a maniac--one Jim Ellison.

Blair emerged from the tent, waved at him, and bathed in the run off pool from the hot spring. Jim didn't come down from the tree until the younger man was dressed and working on breakfast. He wanted Blair to feel safe and in control.

He had expected that once they finished breakfast they would break camp and forget about this part of the rituals, but Blair wanted to go on, despite Jim's failure to control his animal spirit.

"You mustn't think of this as a failure, Jim. This is a difficult task we have set before us. Now close your eyes and center yourself..." Blair's trusted voice guided him to the panther.

~~~~~~~~~

The panther fled the Space Ranger, a man-thing with no smell, whose body made strange sounds as it ran, and who could kill at a distance. He raced along until he came to a cliff's edge. He had nowhere to go, and the Space Ranger closed the gap. The man opened his helmet, and the panther found himself looking at a younger version of Jim Ellison. "This is what you were meant to be. A man of technology, not this primal beast." He opened his armor. "Step inside with me and forget this Sentinel crap. You are a soldier."

Jim leapt off the cliff and fell thrashing into the water. As he was being swept toward a waterfall, he smelled a familiar scent--Blair. Blair was coming to save him. A raft of rough-hewn logs floated toward him. He climbed aboard.

Blair laughed as he paddled away from the screaming and impotent Space Ranger.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jim snapped out of the trance to see that he and Blair had an audience. The Guardian pups were back, with an adult. It was the biggest male Jim had ever seen. He estimated the big male weighed over 180 kilos. Blair held perfectly still as the adult walked up and deposited two large fish, by the tails, at his feet.

"Thank you," Blair said softly.

The adult trotted off, but the pups gazed at those fish as if they were the tastiest things ever to swim. After a bit they followed the adult male.

"That was different," Jim said.

"Tell me about it," Blair replied as he watched the Guardians leave. "Too bad I can't ask an expert about that move."

"Why can't you ask anyone?" Jim asked, puzzled.

"Nothing I do with you is for publication," Blair explained. "That includes any other activity that could pertain to your skills."

Jim had always thought Blair planned to publish whatever he learned about Sentinels from Jim. It was how Jim justified living rent-free in his friend's big house. "Blair, don't you plan to publish anything about me?"

Blair shook his head. "Any training techniques I develop, I would feel obligated to publish and put into a knowledge base, but I don't want to expose you in any way."

"Just training techniques?" Jim inquired.

"Jim, developing man's natural abilities is one of the primary goals of science. This is what it's all about." Blair smiled. Then grabbed his journal. "Tell me about your journey."

Jim recounted being chased by his younger self and Blair's rescue. "I want to build a raft like the one in my vision."

"Why?"

"I just feel the need. I think it's important." Jim dropped his head and tried to come up with an explanation that would move Blair to do this seemingly useless thing.

Blair nodded. "Okay."

Jim was both surprised and delighted. His teacher understood.

The men washed, cleaned, and cooked the fish. They were the best fish they had ever tasted.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

"Well, Tom..." Jim began as he dangled a toe in the water.

"Yes, Huck?" Blair responded while lying on his back on the homemade raft.

"Is this the life or what?" Jim asked.

"It is. No demands, no patients, and no screaming captains." Blair sighed.

"Simon only yells at me," Jim protested. "You he treats with kid gloves."

"But I get to hear it too," Blair reminded him.

Jim sighed. "Your life certainly took an interesting turn the day Simon walked into your office."

"Yes, it did," Blair agreed.

"Any regrets?" Jim asked, knowing he sounded like a child begging his parent not to be mad about some recent damage.

Blair turned over on his side to look at the older man. "No, why do you ask?"

"The whole Sentinel thing has really taken over your life. I've noticed that you've changed your schedule and lightened your responsibilities in other areas so you can work with me," Jim declared. "I even know you had to ask for an extension of your deadline for the book you're writing."

"Just because I didn't plan to find a living Sentinel, doesn't mean I consider you a burden, Jim," Blair assured his student. "You're my friend, and the work we do is important."

"I'm just saying you get very little return for the time you invest in me," Jim noted.

Blair touched the taller man's shoulder. "Jim, you know you aren't the first Sentinel, do you think that you'll be the last?" he asked seriously.

Jim sat up. "No, of course not."

"Then our work will benefit those who follow as much as it benefits you. I will be leaving a legacy, most likely for your own children." Blair grinned as he made the hand signal for "adult followed by children".

"My children?" Jim asked.

"I've found three documented cases of enhanced senses in your family tree, so far," Blair reported. "You are a descendent of all three. Think of it, three separate genetic portions of enhanced senses. Your children will have upwards of a 25% chance of inheriting fully realized heightened senses and 75% chance of passing those genes on."

"Wow... I suppose I should say something to Claudia," Jim said thoughtfully.

Blair grinned. "Things are going well between the two of you. I'm glad."

"She likes me for who I am. She understands my career and supports it. She's warm, intelligent, affectionate, and she makes me laugh. Claudia is a very special woman." Jim grinned stupidly, but didn't care. "I can't thank you enough for setting us up."

"You were bound to meet," Blair assured him. "Claudia is one of my dearest friends outside of being my cousin. You're my new dearest friend. You would have met."

"Do you think the rest of your family thinks I'm good enough for her?" Jim asked.

Blair frowned. "That's a strange question, Jim."

"Let's face it, socially we're far apart." Jim held his hands as far apart as possible.

"Jim, Claudia's not a snob," Blair assured him. "Her parents would not raise a snob. She thinks you're good enough for her, and you are. That's all that matters. But to answer your question, the family consensus is that Claudia is doing just fine with you, Helaine should trip Simon and soon, Robert needs to get out of his office more and romance Maxine, and that I'm not getting any younger, and I shouldn't let Jet get away."

Jim chuckled. "Don't let them rush you, Chief. I nearly made the mistake of marrying too young and for the wrong reasons. I'm glad that it didn't happen." In his case, the wrong reason was fear of being alone for the rest of his life. Then she dumped him.

"Carolyn?"

"Yeah, the one that got away," Jim replied. There was a time when the mention of her name made him wince in pain, but that was a long time ago.

They lay quietly for a while. The sound of a rumbling stomach disturbed their quiet. "Was that your stomach?" Blair asked.

"I'm afraid so," Jim admitted.

"Let's paddle to shore and see about feeding you," Blair said with exaggerated fear. "I remember the lesson of the Donner party."

"Donner party?" Jim asked, confused. "Was that a lost space flight?"

"No." As they paddled to shore, Blair told Jim about the doomed party's trek across the United States.

"You're pretty slender, Chief," Jim complained. "I wouldn't get much eating off of you."

"At least what you would find would be tender," Blair countered indignantly. "You'd be tough and stringy."

"At least you could make a good stew off me," Jim insisted. "I'd be hard pressed to get a decent sandwich from you."

"At least I would be *kosher*," Blair pointed out.

Jim nearly fell off the raft laughing.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Blair tried to not make a pig of himself over the excellent goose they had for supper, but it was a lost cause. He was starved, and he had *never* tasted a better goose. Any second now, Jim was going to start calling him a glutton.

"Hey, Chief, do you hear that?" Jim asked suddenly. Blair was surprised the man could catch his attention when he was so lost in the meal.

"Jim, I hear lots of things. Could you be more specific?" Blair asked, impatiently.

"A keening sound," Jim reported, "almost like a woman weeping."

Blair listened. "No."

Jim turned slowly and pointed up the small rise. "It's coming from that way." He started off.

Blair was reluctant to part from the excellent goose, but his Sentinel needed him, and he couldn't put off his duty for the sake of his hedonistic taste buds.

They went up the small slope, skirted around a thick clump of pineapples, and came upon a Rigellan bear cub lying on its side and groaning. The Rigellan breed was an extremely rare, non-Earth breed known for its intelligence and high mortality rate due to exposure to human diseases. Hours after they were first documented, thousands lay dying after one exploration crew member exposed a single friendly bear to the chicken pox--a minor disease to a human, deadly to the bears.

Blair knelt beside the small black and white creature. "Jim, go get my med kit."

"Blair, we're not supposed to--"

"Damn it, Jim, this cub could have been exposed to something *we* brought with us. Can you live with that?" Blair dug his fingers into the cub's fur to test its skin temperature. He bent over and smelled its breath. A cub's breath should smell like freshly mown grass, but this little female's breath was slightly acrid. He rubbed its tummy, hoping to calm it.

"Here you go," Jim said as he placed the med kit beside Blair.

The doctor removed his diagnostic scanner and ran it over the cub's body. "Jim, *carefully* look for a nearby source of poison. This bear weighs 27 kilos and couldn't have gotten far with the amount of poison that's showing up in her system." Blair measured out an anti-toxin and administered it. "Hang in there, little lady, you can make it."

Sandburg was concentrating on his little patient when he heard the sounds of a struggle. When he turned, he saw Jim fighting a large *flower*. It was only when Jim fell back that he realized that the *flower* was actually the spread hood of a snake-like creature.

The doctor whipped Jim's knife out of its holder that was strapped to his thigh and lunged at the creature that was attacking his friend.

Jim had visually eliminated 90% of the plant life in the immediate area for poisons when his eye settled on a wide, white flower with a strong aroma, whose surface was warmer than the surrounding plant life. As he reached for it, a mouth formed in the center. The thing was alive and trying to bite him. He caught it by the throat.

As he struggled with the flower-turned-snake, it suddenly forgot him and turned its attention to Blair. His friend was going after the four-meter long snake with Jim's knife. Blair was slashing at the creature with an almost maddened strength.

The snake was quick, but Blair was quicker. Cutting the creature again and again as he ripped the knife across the animal. Jim grabbed a large rock and brought it down on the body of the creature. The two men beat and stabbed the snake to death.

Panting and covered with the snake's blood, Jim turned back to the patient that Blair had been working on. The little bear had made it to its paws and was snuffling in the air. Jim tried to smell what had gotten the bear's attention, but all he could smell was blood and snake.

"Come on Jim, I need to scan you to see if you've been poisoned," Blair said softly.

Jim was about to respond when a much larger version of the Rigellan bear burst out of the brush. The bear, a male, dropped the foliage it was carrying in its mouth at the cub's feet. Jim and Blair stood frozen as the huge male sniffed and nudged the cub. The cub chewed on the offered leaves for a moment before sitting back on its haunches, and vigorously rubbed its snout.

The big male sniffed the two men, nudged the dead snake, then pushed the cub away. As soon as it was out of sight, Blair dashed over and grabbed his med kit, which had miraculously not been stepped on by the big male, and the remains of the leaves.

Jim had every intention of asking Blair something, but he couldn't remember what. All he knew was that he was cold, then the world went black.

There was no panther this time; there was only blackness and a terrifying paralysis that seemed to grip his very soul. Just as the fear threatened to take him over, he had a comforting thought--'Blair is here with me, and he will take care of me.' For there was one thing that he knew as well as his own name, he could count on Blair Sandburg--his partner, best friend, and teacher. The cold slowly left his bones and he felt himself relax.

Blair heard Jim hit the ground. He scanned his friend, already knowing he had been poisoned. Blair ripped the clothes from the larger man, located each bite site, and injected the anti-toxin directly into that location. It was vital when working with an unknown poison to get the anti-toxin to working as close as possible to the entry location on the body. There were three spots on Jim's right arm and one on his torso. Blair rolled his friend onto his back after completing the survey.

The little bear had a natural immunity that her body could use once she had the anti-toxin to boost her resistance. Jim had no such luxury. The snake and its venom were completely unknown to the medical database.

Blair split the snake's carcass open and located its poison sacs. With the pure poison available, he put his diagnostic equipment to breaking it down for an anti-venom. He left that running and turned his attention back to the leaves the larger bear had brought with him. The bear meant for the cub to eat these. Perhaps they were a local anti-venom for the bite of the snake. Like monkeys, Rigellan bears used natural remedies for their ailments.

The young doctor scanned the leaves while keeping an eye on Jim. The older man was breathing, and the rigidness was leaving his muscles. It was his breathing that Blair was most worried about. That and wondering if the snake had babies nearby or a mate. Either scenario did not bode well for them.

The medical diagnostic scanner beeped with its conclusion--Blair was holding Jim's salvation in his hands. His many years of brewing natural potables was going to help him here, but first, he had to move Jim back to their campsite.

He balloon splinted Jim to immobilize his limbs in case, God forbid, his much larger partner went into convulsions. He then rigged a travois and pulled Jim back to their camp.

"Jim, the word is diet. Man, you weigh a ton. Take Jet, she's fairly light for a woman who was raised in a 1.2 gravity habitat dome. I would have no trouble getting her to camp. Are you picking up rocks back there? I swear to God you've put on weight since we started moving." He glanced back at his friend. Jim was lying so still, and his breath was starting to go shallow. Blair picked up speed. Time was running out.

Blair placed Jim on the ground, wrapped him in the thermal blanket, and administered the medicines necessary to reduce Jim's symptoms without interfering with the work that the leaves would soon be doing. He built a fire. The medicinal pot was placed on the hook over the flames, spring water added, and the leaves fed carefully into the boiling water.

Once the brew was ready, he cradled Jim's head in his lap and poured it down Jim's throat. It was slow going at first, but soon he no longer had to work the liquid into his friend--Jim was drinking on his own.

"Ugh, Chief, that's awful," Jim complained.

"Drink it anyway," Blair said laughing. "Welcome back, buddy. You gave me quite a scare there. How do you feel?"

"A little dizzy." Jim touched his friend's arm. "I wasn't really afraid, Blair, because I knew you wouldn't let me die."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim awoke stiff and starving. Blair was already out of the tent and cooking up a storm. Jim stumbled out of the tent, washed, and sat expectantly at Blair's feet for whatever meal the younger man was preparing. He wasn't disappointed. They had unfertilized Kelma (an Ostrich-like bird) eggs, grapes, blackberries, flat bread with honey, orange juice, and fresh pineapple.

After breakfast, Blair cleaned Jim's wounds, checked the toxicity of the surrounding tissue, and regenerated the skin.

"I need you to drink plenty of fluids for the next two days while your body continues to flush itself clean. We should stay here for those two days. There is plenty of forage, and we have the shelter of the caves."

"Chief, we need to check in, and the car is almost three-days walk away," Jim reminded him. The last thing he needed was for their family and friends to arrive on all thrusters and *not* find them injured and helpless. A situation their friends would find themselves motivated to correct.

"No need to walk back, Jim." Blair held up his chronometer, flipped up the dial face, and called his car. "Hello, Gail."

"Hello, Sir. Systems are optimal," the car's computer reported.

"Glad to hear it. Do we have any messages?" Blair asked.

"You have seventeen low priority messages, one urgent message, and fourteen messages of a personal nature," Gail reported.

"I wonder who sent those," Jim muttered, not really asking a question.

Blair stuck his tongue out at Jim. "Retrieve messages in order of priority." He listened to his messages and responded when necessary. He took off his communication device and let Jim have some privacy to retrieve his messages.

Jim had more messages than Blair, and it took a while to get through them. One that really gladdened him was from the woman he sold his last restored watercraft to. She had a commission for him to restore another craft, a 2317 Argonaut Bubble Jet. It would mean both money and recognition for him as she planned to show the boat at the next Earth Boat Show in San Francisco.

The Sentinel had automatically tracked for his friend the entire time he was retrieving his messages. It was almost instinctual these days. If Blair was near, Jim wanted to know how near and what the man was doing. Something had the good doctor excited. Jim got up to find him.

"Blair?" Jim saw his friend kneeling by a confluence of the river that they were camped beside.

"Over here." The smaller man held up a handful of gems.

"Wow," Jim said as he took the offered jewels. They were rough, uncut, and worth more than Jim could imagine. Diamonds in several colors, Kenyan, which were 500 times stronger than diamonds, but a 1000 times more expensive, rubies, sapphires, and an Oracle gem that was larger than his fist. "I can't believe this. What did you mine them with?"

Blair held up his dirty hands. "Just these."

"Then you can take them off the planet since you didn't use machinery to remove them." Jim recited from the bylaws of restricted worlds.

"Jim, the gems are not what has me intrigued," Blair reported.

"Oh?" Jim asked, letting the twinkle of the gems delight his enhanced eyesight.

"These gems come from different regions on this planet," Blair reported. "They should not be clumped together like this."

"An old pirate stash, maybe, or washed from a crashed ship?" Jim suggested.

"Maybe, but I think there might be a simpler explanation," Blair countered.

"What's that?" Jim asked as he played with the Oracle gem.

"Dragons use gems in their crops for digestion. There are native dragons here," Blair announced.

"I remember, but I also recall that they like higher and colder land. They also favor sheer cliffs to leap from for the thermals that they glide on." Jim wanted to sound reasonable instead of scared water-less, which he was.

"I know," Blair agreed, "it was just a thought."

"And a nasty one. We don't have any weapons other than what I could make and my knife, none of which would do more than tickle one of those dragons, even a juvenile."

"I know." Blair put the rest of his haul on the ground and sorted them into two equal stacks. The Oracle gem was placed by itself. "Okay, I sorted so you get to choose the stack you want."

"What?"

"We're in it together, Jim. Choose a stack." Jim hesitated over the two piles. "Think of your retirement," Blair prompted.

Jim chose a stack and marveled at the generosity of his friend. Would he have done the same thing if he had found the jewels? Yes, he would. He valued Blair's friendship more than the entire planet. The gems were placed in his satchel. "What are you going to do with the Oracle gem?"

"I'm donating it to my temple," Blair answered. "They are fund raising to rebuild the Beth Israel hospital on Mayflower."

Jim shuddered at the terror of those people as they awakened to a disaster of biblical proportions. A comet that was only supposed to have been in close orbit to the planet exploded with devastating results. By the time the deadly meteor shower was over, hundreds were dead and hundreds of thousands were homeless. Jim chose two Kenyans, and placed them beside the Oracle gem. It was found money, and the temple had better uses for it. Blair smiled and put the gems in a small satchel.

The two men made their way back to camp where Blair conducted two hearing tests, six reflex tests, four visual acuity tests, and a touch sensitivity test that Jim ruined by laughing through it.

"Jim! I'm checking for nerve damage, and you're laughing your head off," Blair chastised.

"I give, I give, please, please," Jim begged.

"Well, you must be all right if you're going to laugh like that." Blair put away his brushes. "How about some lunch?"

Jim snickered. "Sounds good," he forced out before another round of giggles took him.

Blair threw up his hands, then headed off and began to gather food. Jim felt the need to fish and augment their lunch, and perhaps their supper. The river provided a wide range of edible fish, and they had barely scratched the surface of possibilities so far. Jim tossed in his hook and string and caught some fish. His mind wandered from the task at hand as he spread out his senses to experience all that there was for a Sentinel to experience in this wonderful and primal place.

He realized instantly that he had an audience. Looking around, he saw a panther. A magnificent black beast--powerful, deadly, and with no mercy. Jim looked around anxiously for Blair. The doctor was digging up roots with his small spade, completely unaware of the great cat that was closing in on him.

"No," Jim begged. "Don't hurt him." Jim wanted to call out and warn Blair, but his body was frozen. The great cat rushed his friend. The Sentinel wanted to close his eyes as the panther closed the gap, Blair would be split open before his very eyes, but he couldn't. He had to stop this.

With a roar, Jim rushed forward--weaponless, without a plan, and without a hope of stopping the huge cat. Blair fell backwards in shock, scrambled to his feet, and raced toward Jim.

With Blair safely behind him, Jim kept himself between the cat and his friend. Several times, the cat tried to circumvent Jim. With a final lunge it rushed the young doctor. Jim threw himself onto the cat, intent on killing it or to die trying. The cat turned to vapor in his hands. Jim looked around to see that he was still standing in the river, with a fish tugging on his string, and his friend safely on the bank gathering food.

It took Jim several hours to bring up the vision to Blair. They discussed the images well into the night. It all boiled down to Jim taking control and placing the man between his teacher and the primitive instincts that the cat represented. It was all very powerful, symbolically, which was nice. Jim would rather have skipped it himself.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim was fully recovered from the poison when they moved to their new campsite at the foot of the Black Bluffs area. It was the site of the Cave of Prisms--an unparalleled opportunity for Jim to hone his visual skills.

The cave was magnificent. Just a few feet inside and Blair was disoriented and clinging to Jim, nearly blinded by the reflections of reflections of reflections. He had to retrieve a mechanical eye device set to infrared scan to navigate.

Jim had also been disoriented until he could tell the difference between a source and a reflection. They spent over three hours in the caves. Coming back outside was a let down. It was almost suddenly losing several layers of density in his sight. The Sentinel spent hours discussing what he had felt when he had to reduce his sight levels with Blair and in his journal.

During the night, Jim was awakened with the sound of leathery wings beating in the air over their heads. He went outside to witness a full flight of dragons. Literally hundreds of the giant beasts were flying in formation over their heads.

He roused Blair, and they broke camp. Jim was in no mood to become a snack for a flight hungry dragon. They were no more than 2 kilometers from their original campsite when Jim saw an enormous female, complete with egg sac, land where their tent had formerly sat. She dug up their carefully buried garbage and back trailed them to the prism cave.

The men ran. Noise was no longer important, distance was. Jim kept Blair in front of him so that he wouldn't lose him. The younger man was crashing through the forest with incredible speed. Jim could never have gotten this kind of performance out of his friend on the track at the training facility, but he didn't have a 15-meter tall dragon to put on the track to run after him either.

They hit the river, climbed aboard their raft, and paddled out into current. The dragon couldn't swim, but as tall as it was, it could just wade after them. The current was moving them very quickly down the river now, but the dragon had made it to shore and was almost pacing the raft. Jim guided them into the rapids. The dragon bellowed as they left it behind. If they had been close to some cliffs, the dragon could have leapt off and come after them, but it was too heavy to take off in flight without that assistance.

The two men left one danger behind to find themselves in another. The rapids were tearing the log raft apart. They were in swift running and deep water. Jim was trying to extract the raft out of a particularly nasty churn when the raft snapped, and Blair went flying. "CHIEF!!!" Jim screamed as he was also thrown into the water.

Jim fought his way to the shore. He was a strong swimmer and thanks to Blair's care, he was in good condition. He scanned the water for signs of his friend, but there was nothing. Blair was gone, the river had swallowed his friend whole. Jim had brought Blair to this world, and now his friend was dead.

"Jim! Help me, Jim!" His hearing stretched. Blair! It was Blair calling for him. Jim ran.

"Jimmmmmmm!" Blair was fighting the current, and the current was winning. Sandburg was a good swimmer, but he was out of his depth here.

~Hang in there, Blair. Don't give up on me, Buddy.~ But Blair was weakening, spending more and more time under the water. Suddenly, the doctor was caught in a churn and taking a pounding against the rocks.

Jim set his anchor, which had served them so well on their long climb up Thimble Mountain, and dived off the rise and into the water. Grabbing Blair, Jim was reeled back up the cord with the limp body of his friend in his arms. Blair was cold, blue, and totally unresponsive.

Laying the doctor on the ground, Jim got the backpack off his friend, and began CPR. "Come on, Chief. Don't you die on me. Do you hear me? I won't accept your death." Jim worked frantically to revive his friend.

Blair began coughing up water. "Ow! Remind... me... to update my will." He rolled onto his stomach and continued to hack up water.

Jim pulled out the medical scanner and cringed at the results. He had injured Blair. "Chief, I cracked two of your ribs giving you CPR."

"I probably broke them... when I hit the water or when I was being smashed against the rocks." He winced as he removed his tunic. "You're not responsible for my injuries." He rolled onto his back and lifted his arms over his head. "I'm glad we got away from that dragon."

Jim placed the bone knitters on Blair's ribs. "I should have realized the raft couldn't make those rapids. You could have been killed."

"Possible death is *always* preferable to certain death. Dragon equals certain death, Jim. Do the math." Blair closed his eyes and let the knitters do their job.

Jim wrapped his friend up to get him warm. "I was so glad I could hear you yelling for help. It helped me track you."

Blair opened his swollen eyes. "Jim, I tried to yell, but I kept swallowing water."

"You were gone, there were so many places you could have been, then I heard you, Blair," Jim insisted. "Those screams kept me focused. I followed the sound of your calls right to you."

"What were you thinking when you couldn't find me?" Blair asked softly.

"That I brought you here to die," Jim reported, his voice breaking with emotion.

Blair paused before speaking. "Jim, I brought you here. Get your facts straight. It was all my idea. So if there is any blame to spread around, it all lands firmly at my feet." The doctor stared intensely at Jim for a while, then sighed. "I guess I have to be more stressed for it to work." He swallowed dryly. "Could you get me some of the juice? It should be in your pack."

Jim poured the juice in a cup and held Blair's head as he drank it. "What didn't work?" He asked after Blair signaled that he didn't want any more of the juice.

"Just a wild thought, really. It doesn't matter." He lay quietly until the knitters signaled they had finished repairing his bones. "Good as new," he said softly.

Jim looked around at the plateau they were on. There were signs of Guardians up here. A bit of fur, a hollow dug for sleeping, and fresh puppy teething marks on the lower limbs of the trees. The sun was well up and it was time to move before they returned to their resting area.

"Chief, I hate to do this to you, but we've got to move. This is Guardian territory," Jim said apologetically.

Blair struggled to his feet with Jim's help. The Sentinel knew how much his friend was hurting by his absolute silence. When they made camp, Blair made no offer to assist, and was asleep before Jim finished setting up. The Retrieval Officer had to awaken his friend and force him to eat.

He slept close to Blair during the night, knowing the younger man would have nightmares, just as he did after his run-in with Miller Hansel. The herbs the doctor had brewed helped him sleep but did nothing to keep the nightmares away.

Over the next few days, Jim found himself filling page after page in his journal as he went over every minute detail of Blair's near drowning. In the end, there just was no easy explanation for what had happened. Blair had not called, but Jim had heard. His physic rating was low, a two, and he had peeked at Blair's rating when he had a chance. Sandburg's rating was a five, putting him in the top eleven percent of the human population, but that wasn't high enough for him to force communication with Jim. At least according to Jim's understanding on how this worked.

"Blair?" Jim asked as they broke camp for the last time.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's possible that there are other bonds between a Sentinel and his teacher?" Jim asked. "Beyond just friendship or the need for guidance?"

"Yes, there have to be," Blair assured him. "Everything I've read points to other layers beyond what we would consider there could be between two people. Beyond love, friendship, or brotherhood. Connections between Sentinel and Teacher often carry on beyond even death when one is left alone. The one left often reports feeling protected by the one who has died."

Jim shuddered at the thought of outliving Blair--it would be horrible. "I don't like the thought of you going first. I'm thirteen years older, I should go first."

"It's not a contest, Jim," Blair insisted.

"I need you to promise not to go first," Jim begged.

Blair rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous."

"That's not the point, Blair," Jim countered seriously. "I need you to promise."

Sandburg's look of annoyance melted into a look of understanding. "I promise to try to outlive you," Blair replied.

"Good, I want you around for my children," Jim explained selfishly.

Blair grinned. "Well, that sounds promising for Claudia."

"She's very special, most Sandburgs are." Jim hugged the smaller man tightly. "Take you for instance."

"You're pretty special yourself." Blair hugged Jim back before shouldering his pack and beginning the five-hour trek back to the APV.

-- The End --