Eye of the Storm

Part 1

Pulling into a parking space at 852 Prospect St, Jim Ellison turned off the engine to his truck, then sat in the relative hush, watching the rain smear over his windshield. Through the watery darkness of the night, he could make out the vague shape of the building that housed his loft apartment, the place that until very recently he had considered his home. The windows on the third floor that opened to it were hesitantly lit by candles, looking odd among their electrically bright companions.

Choosing not to use his Sentinel sight to see past the flickering glass, Jim watched the random motion of the shadows, hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel of his truck. He didn't need to use Sentinel hearing to know what was going on in up there. In fact, he was going to have to go in soon if for no other reason than to turn down the music before the neighbors called the cops.

Despite himself, he snorted at that thought. Probably the only reason they hadn't done it already was because he had once been a cop himself, and they thought he was still connected with the PD well enough that it was pointless to complain about him. Truth was, he was riding that misconception for all it was worth right now. Most of his buddies at Major Crimes had moved on in the years he'd been gone, and none of the uniforms knew him at all, it seemed. There was only Simon, and even he was stepping up to the Police Commissioner's office soon.

But hopefully the aura of copness would hold a while longer, long enough for Blair to win his battle with whatever demon that had settled into his soul a few weeks after their return to Cascade. Or at least to learn that playing 'earth music' full blast wasn't helping him much. In the extreme distance he saw the red/blue flash of a police cruiser flick into life; it stirred him into reluctantly getting out of the truck and heading up.

Choosing to take the stairs in spite of the weariness dogging him from his workout, Jim climbed slowly, mind contrarily racing over his Guide's recent behavior, looking for a way he could help. At first he had thought it was all part of the adjustment that Blair was going through from losing his sight. He'd had enough experience with soldiers and cops who'd suffered losses like that to know that unreasoning rage and depression was usually part of the package before the victim got on with his life.

Except, of course, Blair never did anything the way other people did, even adjust. He insisted, and from all evidence Jim had to take him at face value, that being blind wasn't that much of a problem for him. Yeah, he hated not being able to drive or watch girls or read - especially the last - but it was not as if he were blocked forever from those pleasures. *He* could always use Jim's vision if he needed or wanted, unlike other sightless people condemned to endless darkness.

Yet he never took advantage of that ability, preferring to learn to navigate through a blank world, taking the lumps that came with it uncomplainingly. Jim could understand that and respected the drive for independence that was behind it. It didn't stop him from wishing his partner would occasionally accept the ready arm that was always waiting for him.

Reaching the door, automatically turning down his hearing to compensate for the deafening noise coming through it, he pulled his customary impassivity around him, hating the need to do so before entering his own lair, such as it was.

On the other side he was greeted by the sight of a nearly nude Blair, dancing wildly to the music crowding the loft, head thrown back and eyes closed as if in pain. Body streaked with paint and sweat that dripped onto indecently short cutoffs, his feet pounded the bare wood floor in time to the Native American drums, adding to the vibrations smacking into Jim's hypersensitive skin. His arms were out-flung as if he were a bird on wing, and he swooped and swirled with the Bolivian pipes that were carrying the melody of the music, waist-length hair flowing after him like currents of wind.

Almost *seeing* Blair flying through a moon-filled sky on borrowed wings, Jim leaned back onto the door, again dialing down the punishing force of the sound, and admired his partner's lithe grace as he effortlessly wheeled through the nearly empty room. Part of him wanted to slip off his shoes and try to match that liquid flight, answer the almost subliminal call of the drums, as he had done when he lived with the Chopec.

Chances were, though, Blair wouldn't appreciate Jim's company for this private abandon, any more than he had appreciated it at any time over the last few weeks. So the sentinel stayed at his post, watching a bit enviously, positive that the other man was totally unaware of his presence. In fact, he was sure Blair was completely oblivious to anything but the power of the music and the feel of it guiding him through the steps of his dance.

Especially to how enchanting he was.

As often as Jim had had that exact thought that in the past, it was still an odd one to own up to, at least as far as his own personal lexicon of what was beautiful was concerned. But it was a simple truth he'd stopped hiding from only months after meeting the anthropologist, and, at the time, he'd simply chalked it up to his total awareness of his Guide. Like knowing his scent or being able to pick out his voice in a crowd, seeing Blair's beauty had been only another fact he had fit into the enigmatic picture of Blair Sandburg, student, police observer, room mate, friend, partner, guide.

Now it moved him, obliquely, sexually and he shied away from it, automatically turning toward more customary avenues. He arrowed in on his partner's vital signs, picking up the ragged breathing, the acrid tang of exhaustion, and the frenetic heartbeat even through the masking background noise and scents. Abruptly he realized Blair was on the verge of physical collapse, and he charged across the room as the smaller man stumbled, tumbling forward headfirst. His speed allowed him to catch Blair halfway down, and he went with him to cushion the impact, clutching him to his chest.

"Sandburg!" Though he didn't need to, he laid his fingers over the pulse in the slim throat, confirming for himself how thin and thready it was. "When was the last time you ate?" he barked, concern sharpening his voice.

Like always, Blair ignored the tone. "Hey, man. When'd you get home?" he mumbled, fatigue beginning to make him shake.

"Just in time, apparently." Standing, carrying him far too easily for his peace of mind, Jim snapped off the CD player, and headed straight for the bathroom, wanting to warm Blair with a hot shower. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I forget." Blair's head lolled forward onto Jim's chest, and he sighed tiredly.

Lips becoming a thin white line, Jim propped him against the bathroom wall, efficiently stripping himself and turning on the water. He stepped into the stall, taking his partner with him, unsure if Blair had the strength to stand on his own. Apparently Blair had his own concerns about that; he wrapped his hands around Jim's biceps and leaned into the tall, hard body, hanging on for all he was worth.

"Damn," he muttered. "Who stole my bones and left behind these noodles?"

"Probably the same guy that stole that impressive IQ of yours and left behind the kind of tapioca that thinks dancing for hours on end without stopping to rest or eat isn't a bad idea," Jim answered dryly.

"Whoa. That's gotta be a crime in somebody's book." Moving away a few inches, Blair tried to stand on his own and immediately wobbled so badly Jim snatched him back into the support of his own body.

"The only criminal act around here has been disturbing the peace." Jim put them both under the hot stream, automatically shielding Blair's face so that he could breath. "Neighbors are probably getting ready to call in the SWAT team to get you to turn down the music."

"Actually, the building's empty except for old Mrs. Sawyer, who's needed new batteries for that hearing aid of hers for months," Blair said, trying to smile.

"Small blessings," Jim retorted, and began soaping him up, absently noting that the paint was dying the bubbles interesting colors. They seemed to pick up the primary hues of the pigments, turning into fragile gemstones that were nearly alive with supple motion. His eyes trained onto a particularly brilliant one as it was born and followed it through its brief life as it journeyed from the swell of a sharply defined collar bone, down the flow of wiry muscles and limbs, and to the black hole of the drain, where it swirled dizzyingly at the brink of its extinction.

A loving palm cupped his jaw, thumb scoring tenderly along his cheekbone, and called him back from his zone. "Wow, that is sooo cool," Blair murmured, looking down at the drain between his feet. "No wonder you still get caught up in things once in a while. The world must be a pretty beautiful place to you."

Without thinking Jim returned the caress, tilting up Blair's head so that he could see his features clearly. "Yes," he whispered, "It is." The drops of water beaded on the long lashes, highlighting the intense color of Blair's eyes, and transformed the long curls into a provocative veil that accented more than it hid, framing a strong, passionate face that needed no help to be appealing.

To his surprise, Blair actually blushed and hid his face on Jim's breastbone, huddling close as if to minimize his presence. "Love you, too," he murmured.

Jim laid his cheek against Blair's temple, not needing to say or do anything but be there, soaking up the first ease that had between them in what felt like forever. When the water's temperature started to drop, he hurriedly finished washing them up, giving the long tresses only a minimum of attention though he knew he'd have to listen to complaints about it later.

After Jim dried his lover off as he best he could, he bundled Blair into a warm robe and took him to the small downstairs bedroom where they'd been sleeping on a mattress on the floor since their return. Making a quick side trip to brew up some tea, he blew out the candles and locked up the loft, returning with a cup of hot, heavily sugared brew to the lump of blankets that his partner had become. For once, Blair made no protest over not using honey, giving Jim a very clear idea of how exhausted he was.

Sipping at the liquid, he hunched over the cup as if to capture more of its warmth that way, studiously not looking at the other occupant of the room. Jim knew he was expecting questions, maybe even a fight, but at the moment, all Jim wanted to do was creep under all those covers with him and rest. Setting aside the cup for Blair when he was finished, he picked up the spare towel he'd brought with him, sat on the mattress, leaning back onto the wall, and pulled Blair to sit in the 'v' of his legs.

With his fingers and the absorbent terry cloth, he worked on Blair's curls, taking out the worst of the wetness and tangles, smoothing the raw silk into a semblance of order. This was a familiar ritual for them, since his partner insisted that if Jim wanted him to keep his hair so long, he was going to have to help him take care of it. Privately he thought Blair wouldn't cut it anyway because of the pure sensual feel of the softness on his bare skin.

He took advantage of that now, tracing the liquid slither of individual locks over the lean back, using the action to mask his subtle massage. It lulled Blair into twisting to curl up against him again, forgoing the bulk of the bedding for the heat of a human body. That was exactly what he'd been hoping for, and Jim brought up his knees to fence his skittish captive in a little more closely. His own eyelids began to drop as he fell victim to his own scheme to seduce Blair into sleep.

Automatically he did a fast check with his senses to be sure nothing was out of place; that they were secure. Though their time on the streets of Washington, DC as Panther and Chief was behind them now, and the enemy that had forced them into that life was defeated and gone, Jim hadn't relearned to trust the sanctuary of either Cascade or the loft. In part that was why it was still so bare; why they were sleeping on the floor, weapons never more than a grab away, in the most easily defensible and escapable room in the place.

Nothing was off or worrisome, and he let go of another level of alertness, dropping the towel and merely petting his lover with gentle random touches meant only to reassure both of them all was well.

From under his lashes Jim studied the blank room around them, idly recalling when it had been filled with artifacts, books, magazines, and all the rest of the paraphernalia of a grad student's life. Maybe that was another reason they hadn't started to refurnish the loft. How could they know what possessions they needed when neither of them really knew what they were any more? Not cop, not grad student, not mercenary, not fugitive.

Well, they could always start with the basics, he decided sleepily. A real bed for instance. We could put it right next to that huge barrel cactus.

It took a second, but the strangeness of the thought - and the image - was powerful enough to jar him all the way awake, and Jim sat up suddenly, reaching for his gun. His reaction dumped Blair out of sleep, sending him into battle readiness though he remained motionless, without even muscular tension to betray his hand finding his knife.

"Shit," Jim muttered, head turning slowly as he took in their altered surroundings. The wall he'd been leaning against was now a huge boulder, one that radiated off heat from the scorching day's accumulation of sun, and felt abrasive and coarse to his back. The ground was sand and grit, sparkling with stolen moonlight and firelight. Right in front of them was a low fire, one that was barely embers, hardly giving off as much light as the stars overhead did. And they stretched endlessly, as did the horizon, yet seemed clear and close enough to touch, as they always did in the desert.

As shocking as the change was, the hardest part of it to deal with was the sight of the two people on the other side of the fire. Sam Beckett and Al Calavicci were sprawled casually on a sleeping bag, the older man behind the younger, head propped up on one palm as he met Jim's stunned glare calmly while Sam apparently slept, head pillowed on an arm.

"Took you long enough to get him settled down," Al grumped, idly stroking the flannel covered shoulder in front of him. Like Sam, he wore jeans and flannels, with what looked like black turtle neck under his. A quick glance down told Jim that he and Blair were dressed the same in style, differing only in color and fit. "We woulda done this ages ago if he," Al went on, jabbing a blunt finger towards Blair, "hadn't been working himself up to such a tizzy."

Straightening up slowly, Blair said defensively, "I wasn't 'working myself up.' I was trying to establish the right physical conditions for a shamanic trance."

"Don't mind him," Sam said, blinking sleepily and punching his partner in the ribs with an elbow. "He doesn't like waiting."

"Damn straight," Al grumbled.

"But he is right," Sam went on earnestly, "about doing a Vision Quest unnecessarily, Blair. You should save that for the hard things, the ones you can't work out any other way. Fasting and going without sleep for prolonged periods are too hard on your body, and Jim has a tendency to provide sufficient life-support to stymie the chemical process you're trying to trigger, anyway."

Looking frustrated, Blair pulled at the hair on the sides of his head with his fists. "Stupid, stupid, of course that's why..." He cut himself short, pointedly not looking at Jim and added. "And it is important to me, Sam."

"Can I help?" A sharp glance was sent the scientist's way, but he met it placidly with nothing but sincerity in his hazel eyes.

It softened Blair back into his normal self, and he grinned. "I guess if anybody is an expert on identity crisis, it'd be you, right?"

"After five or so years leaping around into other people's lives, I suppose you could say that," Sam agreed, smiling. "I take it being home isn't the happily-ever-after you'd counted on while on the run."

"Not even close, man." Blair slumped back into Jim's arms, rubbing his cheek over him apologetically. "Going back to Rainier was like going back to my kindergarten classroom and marveling how small the desks were. And if Jim decides to go back to being a cop, there's no way I can ride with him as his partner now. Whoever heard of a blind observer?"

"You don't have to be blind, Chief," Jim protested mildly, glad to finally get that out in front.

"Uh, uh, no way am I going to use you as a crutch," Blair said firmly. "Too risky. Using your sight only works when you're conscious and when I'm within a certain range. Which, I might add," he finished with some asperity when Jim tried to interrupt, "we don't know the exact parameters of because a certain Sentinel hasn't been very co-operative with the testing needed to establish them."

"Chief," Jim told him solemnly, "if the idea was to make you feel back at home, willingly going along with one of your tests was the last thing that would have helped!"

Blair chuckled, but quickly became serious again, picking randomly at the tiny pills of cotton on Jim's gray shirt. "So what did you want to talk to us about?" he said, not trying to make the change of subject more subtle. "Must be pretty important for you to construct all this." He waved at the desert around them, then added appreciatively, "Man, it looks like the real thing."

"I'd say thanks," Al told him, "but this takes all of us. I'm just the director of the show, so to speak." At their questioning looks, he explained with barely disguised glee, free hand cutting through the air like Italian semaphore to punctuate his words. "See, kid, you're the writer, the one who communicates the scene to the rest of us. And Sammy here's the producer, you know, the one with the power to make it so. Jimbo is the set designer - who besides a sentinel could know better what sand feels like or how the desert smells at moonrise? And I'm the one that makes all the decisions about the action and how it looks. Moonrise or full dark, big bonfire or almost out campfire."

"Why'd you get the job?" Blair asked in honest curiosity.

"Because he's had a whole life time of getting the all the dogs to mush in the same direction," Sam answered for him, tone half-laughing and half-serious.

"Working with scientists is more like herding cats," Al shot back instantly, "And we don't want to get into what raising a house full of women was like."

Sam's answer was a fond look and putting the conversation back on track. "We decided to try getting in touch with you this way first because once we Leap into a place and time, we're committed to staying there until we get the job done, more or less. For what's needed, though, we didn't want to give up the advantage of being outside of Time until we *had* to, so I thought since you'd Leaped, too, that I could, I don't know, kind of bring you halfway out of Time long enough to talk to you."

"There's something you need Panther and Chief to help you fix?" Jim asked, more sharply than he intended.

"Not exactly, but sort of," Sam admitted apologetically, but he didn't back down from Jim's hard stare. "The two of you did a lot of good as mercenaries or vigilantes or whatever you want to call what you were doing in DC. Don't ever forget that. And much as you might hate to think it, what your alternates did in their time line wasn't necessarily evil, either. It was mostly just filthy, unpleasant work that nobody else could do and seriously needed taken care of.

"In fact, since the last time we saw you, Al and I have been making sure that the cases that Panther and Chief worked on that *had* to be done, got done."

To his surprise, it came as a relief to Jim to know that, whatever path he took/had taken, his life had been worthwhile. Apparently Blair took it for granted, because all he did was ask, "And you've run into one that you can't handle? Considering what you've got at your disposal, that's scary, guys."

"We've got rules we gotta follow, like anybody else," Al said mildly. "One of them is that we can't get too close time wise to our 'death', which you already know, and another is that we can't Leap to help the people closest to us." His normally cheerful face sobered, eyes dropping to his partner's. "Price is way too high."

Capturing the hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, Sam said something to him with his gaze that comforted Al, giving his attention back to the pair on the other side of the fire only when he'd won a new smile. "In the original time line," he started, "Panther and Chief were hired by a very wealthy man who wanted revenge for the death of the woman he'd fallen in love with and was carefully courting. It sounds like something out of a bad romance novel, but he didn't want her intimidated by his money and family, so he'd hidden that from her and most everybody who knew her, letting them think he was only a bookstore owner.

"Then she vanished, and her body showed up a week or so later. She'd been repeatedly raped and sexually tortured until it literally killed her. As if that weren't bad enough, six weeks after, about the time her family was beginning to recover from the shock, a bust on a totally unrelated case turned up a video tape with her death as the main feature."

"Snuff porn," Jim muttered, feeling his stomach roll queasily. Cops knew it existed, occasionally found tapes like the one Sam mentioned, but the people who had the money to buy it usually had enough to keep themselves out of the way of the authorities. Or the good sense to destroy tapes like that before they could fall into the wrong hands.

"Yeah," Al agreed, disgustedly. "Have to admit, I liked Panther's way of dealing with that scum. Won't go into details, but let it suffice to say that the producer of the films and his head 'casting director' had a punishment that fit the crime."

"Al," Sam chided grimly. Ignoring the other man's unrepentant lift of chin, he went back to his explanation. "Regardless of how it was accomplished, one of the side effects was that they saved six other women from the same death, since that was the first film like that the producer had made. But in this history, the man who hired Panther and Chief won't be able to find a private investigator or mercenary that he could trust to track down his lover's killer and will try to do it himself. Not only will he die, so will those six women, and the 'director' will never even be suspected of what he's doing. The 'casting director' will die in a year or two, but it'll be in a shoot out over a drug buy, and he'll kill a cop before he goes down."

"What's his connection to you that keeps you from leaping to prevent all that?" Jim asked bluntly.

"The woman in question is my daughter, Sammy Jo." Sam's voice was flat with pain, and he rolled to his stomach, turning his head into the concealment of crossed arms.

Confused, Jim looked to Calavicci for clarification, and found the admiral's eyes closed in the same agony.

"I don't remember Dr. Beckett having a daughter," Blair said softly, filling in the silence. "She was born from a Leap?"

"Yes." The answer was muffled, then Sam sighed and pillowed his cheek on his arms, soaking up Al's feathered strokes over his features. "It's nearly impossible for me to do anything at all to help her, because I've already changed her history twice, however unintentionally. Once when I saved her mother from being convicted for murder, and then again when Weisman took over Stallion's Gate. She was supposed to be part of Quantum Leap, but his interference with it sent her into a different line of research all together. She's an absolutely brilliant woman, and as beautiful as she is smart. Abigail did a good job of raising her, too."

"You don't have to convince us to save her," Blair protested. "We would anyway, because it's right. The question is *can* we? Can Jim and I fit ourselves into our counterpart's place well enough to help her and the others? We won't kill, except in self-defense." He said the last firmly, and Jim silently supported him with a hard glare.

"Do you have a setup in mind?" Jim asked despite that, mind already running over what they needed to get started.

"No, not really." Sam told them honestly. "I have a wealth of information on Gregory Sanderson, know where and when his accomplice, Jerry Wirhun, will take Sammy Jo, but I thought the best thing to do was share it with you and let you decide how to use it. I've Leaped into more than one soldier or policeman, but I'm too close to this situation to be able to make a workable plan."

"I still think the best bet," Al said, "is to snatch her and hold her 'til the danger passes. Jim and Blair can bring down Sanderson while he's scrambling to find a replacement for her."

Sam started to argue, but no sound came from his lips, and the cool night around them wavered, loosing color for a moment like a television set about to blow. Jim blinked, which was no help, but it convinced him that the problem wasn't with him. Everything came back, and Al swore softly. "Sam?" he asked, worriedly.

"I'm tired. We're going to have to let go soon," he admitted.

"Give us the basics," Blair encouraged. "We can take care of the rest, and if it looks to you like we're heading off in the wrong direction, you can find a way to let us know without resorting to this again."

Feeling the boulder behind him flatten and smooth, becoming more wall-like, Jim warned, "Better hurry." Not sure how his senses would work in this situation, he nevertheless focused them, realizing that their surroundings were becoming more like the stage Al had initially envisioned. The strong heartbeat surging against his skin was perceptibly slowing, and he wrapped Blair up more firmly in his arms, alerting Calavicci with a nod that Sam wasn't the only one wearing out.

As fast and precisely as possible, Al briefed them with everything he thought might be useful, freeing his partner to concentrate on holding the scene together a few minutes more. Jim listened intently, not sure how much Blair was picking up, watching their bedroom begin to intrude into the conversation. Eventually there was nothing left of their friends or the desert but Al's voice whispering into the still room, reminding Jim absurdly of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. Soon, even that was lost to the bass hoot of a big rig driving past their building.

He looked down to the man in his arms to find Blair peering up at him through eyes surrounded by deep bruises of fatigue. A thousand different things to say flitted through his mind, some of them angry, all of them concealing concern, but all that he said was, "Rest, Sandburg. We'll deal with it tomorrow."

With a half nod that acknowledged that the conversation wasn't necessarily going to be about Sam's request, Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and nestled down, asleep before his next breath.

***

A strong pull on my hands where Al was gripping them tightly enough to leave nail marks made me take a step forward, bringing me clear of the sheet of shimmering opalescence that was Blair's and Jim's life. My next step was more of a stumble, and he caught me, going to his knees with me as I fell to mine. I snaked my arms around his waist and buried my face in the curve of his neck as we went down. Beyond tired, beyond weary, what I hid from wasn't my partner's worry, but the Power radiating at his back because I was afraid that simply seeing the shine would be enough to call me into It.

Al must have understood that; he cupped the back of my head in one meaty hand, holding me in place and murmuring to me as if I were crying. Maybe I was. Maybe I was shedding the silent, invisible tears of a soul-deep loss that could never be properly grieved. The loss of never being able to claim the only child of your body.

All I knew for sure was that my anchor, my sanity, my courage was hanging onto me as tightly as I clung to him, unselfishly pouring his strength into me like he always did. There was an odd sensation of floating, calling up a childhood memory of being carried to my bed by my father. It made me smile into the crook of Al's neck; I doubted his intentions were that innocent.

Tired and distracted as I was, I still spared a second to marvel at how easily Al had adapted to the quasi life we had in this Outside place where Time was something you could see and touch. Physical laws simply didn't apply here, and he not only accepted that on a visceral level, but acted on it as casually as he smoked those obnoxious cigars of his. So when I finally pried myself away from my refuge, I wasn't surprised to see us kneeling in the center of a dense cluster of threads that obscured both the Brilliance and Its counterpart.

He pushed me to my back, then sprawled over me, keeping his weight on his knees and hands though I wouldn't have minded being crushed a bit by him. Conveniently we were both naked, and his urgency was riding on me hotly, just above my hip. It was typical of Al that he would use sex for comfort, and at the moment I wanted to let him, despite our long-standing debate over whether or not our bodies were 'real' here. Teased by the thought that I could be stretched and ready for him, almost like a woman, simply by wanting to be, I shifted under him to bring our erections into better alignment, sighing in pleasure at the intimacy.

Mumbling something happily, he found my mouth to give me one of his special brain-destroying kisses that I loved so much. I opened my lips to him eagerly, wanting him to taste and tease me, wanting the tickly slide of his tongue over mine as another way for me to hide in him. Groaning he quickly took me up on my offer, burrowing into me until I thought it was a distinct possibility he was going to make me finish by doing nothing more than French-kissing me.

When he nudged hungrily at my thighs, I didn't hesitate to spread them for him. Though it had startled me to discover that I loved being on the bottom, I would have given Al what he wanted even if I'd hated it. I knew I'd never be able to keep up with his gargantuan appetite, but if being under him kept him happy and content instead of homesick and regretting that he'd stayed with me, I was more than willing to be his whore.

Besides he was one hell of great lover.

Muttering indistinctly, he scooted down to hook my knees over his shoulders so he could get into me, and that made one of my feet brush through one of the many strings surrounding us.