Sentinel fic - The Wrong Guide, part 1
The Wrong Guide
by Arnie
"Man, oh, man, I can't believe I agreed to this!" Blair Sandburg paced up and down while waiting for the car to arrive, feeling his curly hair bounce with every agitated step.
"You know I appreciate it, Blair. You do know that, right?" Gerry glanced at him, his pale eyes quickly moving back to watching the gateway for any sign of a limousine.
"Yeah, I know. And no, I'm not gonna pull out but...man, they're gonna know!" Blair damned his innate curiosity that had persuaded him to go along with this. The lure of seeing a pack of Sentinels at a social gathering had been too much to resist, but now that appeal was fading rapidly leaving a cold, unsettled feeling in the base of his stomach.
"Look, it's only for a weekend. You check the place out then tell me all about it so I don't make any slip ups. The Senior Sentinel Prime is out of state at some big cop shindig somewhere, so you won't meet him. I'm due to bond with the guy next weekend and by the time I meet up with any other Sentinel, it'll be too late for any of them to point out that I didn't spend the weekend makin' nice with the Clan."
"What if one of them has met you before? They'll know. They'll notice - they're all Sentinels, for God's sake!" Blair looked his friend up and down, noting the grey-blue eyes and short fair hair. "It's not like we're twins or anything. Even non-Sentinels can tell us apart, ya know!"
"Relax! I haven't met any of them before. I'm sure of that!"
"And if Dean Edwards finds out about this -"
"She won't! Listen, by the time anyone realises that Bonded Guide Gerry Westward is not the same Gerry Westward who spent a weekend with the Clan before the bonding, it'll be too late to change a thing. And once I'm Senior Guide Prime, I can order them to keep their mouths shut."
Blair stared at him. Was that all he was bonding for? A bit of power over a pile of Sentinels? Okay, so Blair wasn't exactly on solid moral ground here. The only reason he was in Guide School was that it was financially far easier to attend Rainier University while studying at Guide School too, but even so. He opened his mouth, not sure whether he was going to argue further or simply announce that he wasn't going after all but was forestalled as Gerry hooted triumphantly, "Here's the car!"
He turned to stare at the posh limo that was crunching its way down the long, impressive gravel driveway. "Gerry! I can't do it! You'll have to find yourself someone else - or say you're sick and can't go!"
"What? Are you nuts?! I can't get someone else now."
"So say you're sick." Blair grabbed his arms and shook him. "I can't do it, I can't. They'll find out and when they do, I'll be expelled!"
Gerry pulled his arms free and laid a calming hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hey, I'll be Senior Guide Prime. I'll protect you. If necessary, I'll order a Sentinel to bond with you, okay?"
"You know that's not what I want, and, man, you are way too hung up on ordering Sentinels around. That's not how it works!"
He smirked in reply. "It will be when I'm in power, trust me." The limo finally came to a halt and Gerry grabbed the door handle. "Have a great time!" Not even giving the chauffeur time to get out of his seat, he yanked the door open and Blair found himself pushed into the car, his backpack tossed in after him. "Take notes!" Gerry reminded him, then the door slammed shut.
Blair scrambled up and grabbed at the door handle, intending to carry on arguing with Gerry, but the sight of Dean Edwards emerging from the Guide School's main entrance changed his mind. He shrank back onto the seat. "Okay, let's go!"
The limo pulled away and Blair twisted in his seat to watch as Gerry disappeared into the bushes lining the drive, leaving Dean Edwards alone on the front step.
Sighing in relief, he turned back. If she'd caught them, if she'd caught him...his days in Guide School would have been over, and no university would have touched him once Dean Edwards was through blackening his name. Gerry would have been fine, of course. His prestigious family name, to say nothing of his family's wealth, would have ensured that the most Guide Westward received was a mild ticking off. Blair Sandburg, with no prestigious family name and as sure as hell no family wealth, would have been tossed out of Rainier University and the associated Guide School before you could say "seeya, sucker". A prickling feeling told him that he was being watched and his eyes flicked up to meet the dark eyes of the chauffeur in the rear-view mirror. "Hi." He smiled nervously.
"Good day, Mr. Westward." The tone was formal and the name was a shock. "I am your chauffeur for the day, you may call me Martin. The drive will take approximately twenty minutes, and there are refreshments in the refrigerator if you get thirsty."
"I'm fine, thanks, Martin." Blair sank back out of view of the mirror. Westward. He'd have to remember that his name for the weekend was Gerry Westward, or he'd be sunk.
~'~
The drive was over far too quickly for Blair's taste. In fact, he would have preferred it if Martin had crashed the car, leaving Blair to make a getaway from the crushed wreckage. But Martin was totally unaware of his passenger's wishes and he managed to get them to their destination without the limo receiving so much as a scratch.
The gathering of the Clan was being held at a Cascade hotel which prided itself on catering for the crème de la crème of society. Mr. Ellison, Senior Sentinel Prime Ellison's wealthy father, had been in charge of organising the gathering for the Clan to meet their future Senior Guide Prime and, so far as he was concerned, the more expensive the better. Of course, Mr. Ellison hadn't been too pleased when his son, the aforementioned Senior Sentinel Prime, had claimed a previous engagement that simply could not be broken. If William Ellison didn't know better, he'd have sworn his son didn't want to spend any time with his impending Guide.
Totally unaware of all this, Blair gazed, his mouth open, at the awe-inspiring front of the hotel. This wasn't the type of place he was comfortable in - in fact, this wasn't the type of place he'd ever been in before. Even his days working as a porter in a hotel had seen him at a much lower class place than this! He gulped nervously and glanced down at himself. His suit, borrowed for the occasion from Gerry, was immaculate and was definitely of a good enough quality to get him past the manager. His backpack, 'I should've borrowed a suitcase too!', would probably cause a few raised eyebrows though. Fortunately, Gerry had insisted on lending him a couple of suits, so his worn jeans and flannel shirts could stay in the backpack out of sight.
The car stopped and Blair watched as Martin hurried around to open the door for him. Fingering his collar nervously, Blair decided that his tie was definitely too tight but he didn't bother to adjust it. Hopefully he could skulk off to his room and hide out there for a while, a long while. 'Like maybe the next day or two.' Stepping out of the car, Blair took his backpack with him hoping that the hovering porter wouldn't be too disappointed at not being able to fill the waiting luggage trolley with umpteen cases of the very best luggage.
He smiled and shrugged as he handed over his scruffy backpack, then headed towards the door. Listening intently, he noticed the few seconds of hesitation before the porter finally followed him, pushing the almost empty luggage trolley with the air of a king. Obviously, if a man of Gerry Westward's stature, inherited stature anyway, chose to travel with one worn backpack instead of an array of Louis Vuitton luggage, who was a lowly porter to gainsay him?
Gerry's assigned suite was another shock. Blair stared around the luxurious surroundings open-mouthed, before he collected himself enough to hand over a presentable tip to the manager who had personally escorted him up there. He wasn't sure if you were supposed to tip the manager, but Gerry had insisted on handing him a wad of cash and told him to tip everybody who worked at the hotel, so he assumed that Gerry knew what he was talking about. The manager didn't refuse the tip anyway, so he guessed it was okay.
Blair kept a smile on his face until the door was shut, then he hurriedly locked the door and sank down to sit on the massive couch. He couldn't do this, he couldn't spend the weekend pretending to be Gerry Westward. He was going to get found out, he was going to be exposed, and when he was, that crowd of Sentinels who were waiting to meet their future Senior Guide Prime were going to tear him limb from limb.
The ominous feeling that had been plaguing him all day intensified and Blair finally caved. 'Sorry, Gerry. No can do. First, I'll get out of this suit then I'll get the hell out of Dodge. None of the Sentinels have seen me yet, and maybe they'll just head to the Guide School and go looking for you - that's who they were expecting, after all! You can explain things to them.' To think was to act, and Blair headed towards the bed where his backpack sat in solitary splendour upon the brocade cover.
"It's a four-poster bed!" He stared at it. He had no idea there were hotels outside of England that even bothered with them. It even had curtains on it - brocade, naturally, to match the cover. Shaking his head, he pulled open his backpack and started getting changed.
A knock interrupted him and he paused, jeans in hand. Tiptoeing over to the door, he called out, "Who is it?"
There was a second's pause then, "Jim Ellison."
He froze. 'The Senior Sentinel Prime is outside my door. What the HELL is the Senior Sentinel Prime doing outside my door? He isn't supposed to be here, for Christ's sake!'
There was another knock. "Are you all right?"
"Uh...just a minute!" His voice was half an octave higher than normal and he scrambled into his jeans as quickly as he could while panicking madly. 'What am I gonna do now?'
~'~
Outside the door, Jim leaned against the doorpost and inhaled again, noting the fear that was flooding his Guide's scent and souring it. The intoxicating tingle that had rushed over him at the first scent of his Guide remained, but his concern was growing. When he'd agreed to bond with his father's chosen Guide, it had been because, after years of searching for his Guide, he'd finally given up hope. Ironically, he'd flown back from the supposedly-unavoidable police convention intending to tell this socially acceptable Guide that he'd changed his mind. Being landed with a Guide was bad enough, being forced to rely on a Guide who wasn't his one true Guide, well...after a lot of thought and more than one sleepless night, he'd finally decided that he couldn't do it. He'd do without until a zone out, or an accident during a zone out, ended it all. To discover that the Guide his father had chosen for him was his true Guide - his reaction to his scent had told him that - was amazing. He'd never have supposed that his father had such good taste, for one thing.
Tilting his head, he listened to his Guide's heartbeat; it was going off the scale. He knocked softly on the door again. "Gerry, open the door." If there was something wrong with his Guide, 'My Guide, mine, mine, mine,' he rejoiced silently, he wanted to be on the same side of the door as him, not looking at a mahogany door that was polished to within an inch of its life.
"Just a minute!"
There it was again, 'just a minute' with a world of panic in the tone. Listening, he realised that his Guide's heartbeat was receding, as though Gerry were moving away from the door. He heard the window open and the heartbeat moved even further away. Old instincts surged to the forefront as he realised that his Guide was escaping.
Furiously determined to follow and stop him, the Sentinel turned the handle sharply and put his shoulder to the door. Growling as it refused to give, he backed up and kicked forcefully at the lock. Two kicks and the door flew open. He rushed into the room and headed straight for the window.
~'~
Blair shook his hands, hoping the stinging from the scrapes would recede, and kept up his sprinting run. If Ellison 'What the hell was he doing at the hotel when he was supposed to be miles away?' did give chase, the sachets of sage he'd dumped by the window and at the bottom of the drainpipe he'd shimmied down should delay the Sentinel for a while at least. Hopefully long enough for Blair Sandburg, idiot extraordinaire, to escape. He couldn't believe this had happened...well, actually, he could. He should have realised when Gerry first broached the idea that there were a thousand things that could go wrong with it, but the Senior Sentinel Prime turning up to inspect his future Guide had not been one of the nightmare scenarios that had plagued him.
He dashed between the huge wrought-iron gates that marked the exit to the hotel's grounds and took a moment to heave a breath of relief. He hadn't heard anyone chasing him, and he was pretty sure that he would have heard one furious Sentinel, or a Hunting Pack of Sentinels, crashing through the undergrowth behind him. He hoped so, anyway.
Thanking all the deities he could think of, including a few that he was pretty sure were false ones, that the overpriced hotel chosen for the Clan gathering was in Cascade and not in the middle of nowhere, he set off towards the nearest bus stop. If he was lucky, he'd be able to catch Gerry at his girlfriend's house before he went off to the wild weekend of parties he'd chosen to attend rather than meet all the stuffed shirt Sentinels of the Clan.
~'~
The sachet of sage had held Jim up for quite a while. In fact, he'd almost zoned on the smell. Unfortunately for one fleeing Guide, it had only reinforced the Sentinel's decision that his Guide needed to be found, and quickly. If his Guide was panicking this much at the idea of bonding, he could be panicked into running from Cascade itself. And losing his Guide was not an option.
Returning to the main foyer of the hotel, the Senior Sentinel Prime called out his Clan. He had a Guide to find and they were going to help him.
~'~
Gerry rolled over in bed as the furious banging on the front door continued. "Get up and see who that is," he groaned, shoving at his girlfriend's shoulder.
Patricia glared at him. "I'm not dressed!"
"Neither am I." He put a pillow over his head and tried to recapture his dreams of a minute beforehand. They still had a few hours to go before Sam's bash started and he planned on getting a few hours' sleep before he went. He'd spent the night before with one of Patricia's girlfriends, although Patricia had no idea, and he hadn't had much sleep.
Muttering furiously to herself, Patricia got up, grabbed her robe and made her way to the front door. "Blair!"
Gerry sat up as he heard the name. What was Blair doing here when he should be at the most expensive hotel in Cascade?
"Hey, Patricia, I need to speak to Gerry."
"Blair? What the hell are you doing here?" Gerry demanded as he chucked the pillow on the floor.
Blair appeared in the doorway, his face paler than normal. "Ellison turned up at the hotel."
"What?!" Gerry swore as he kicked off the covers and grabbed for his pants. "What happened?"
"I got off through the window. He never saw me."
"Whew!" The would-be Senior Guide Prime dropped his pants and sat back down on the bed, ignoring his nudity. "For a minute then, you had me panicked."
"Well, panic! I had to escape from the hotel leaving Ellison behind with no explanation as to where his Guide had gone to."
"No sweat, Blair. I'll just say I came over all nervous and had to get away for a while. First night nerves, ya know?"
"Fine, whatever. But I had to dump some sage by the window and beneath the drainpipe - I needed to delay him to get away - so you'll have to explain that too!"
"Sage?" Gerry was astonished. No Guide was supposed to carry sage. "What were you doing with sage?"
"Just in case of emergencies - and be grateful I had it. If he'd caught me I'm sure he would have noticed during bonding that you weren't the guy who tried to run out on him at the gathering."
"Okay, okay. I'll explain it somehow. Don't worry about it." Gerry grinned. "I would have loved to have seen his face though! Are you staying to go to these parties with us? You've got a free weekend now."
"No, I just came to warn you in case Ellison turned up looking for you. And before I forget, here's your cash back. I tipped the porter and the manager."
"Considering how long you didn't stay, you needn't have bothered tipping them at all!"
"I didn't realise I wasn't stopping then. I'll see you next week, Gerry. Bye, Patricia."
Gerry shrugged as Blair left. It'd be fine. The whole thing was a done deal anyway. Ellison's father and his had made sure of that.
~'~
Fifteen minutes after Blair had left Patricia's apartment, a Sentinel Hunting Pack arrived at Patricia's apartment. Senior Sentinel Prime James Ellison, determined to track his Guide down before that panicked individual could leave town, had visited the Guide School and persuaded (as in intimidated) one of Gerry's friends into handing over an address where he was likely to be found. He hadn't needed to threaten Gerry's friend. The sight of one Sentinel, a feral glare in his eyes, as he loomed over him demanding information had been enough to make the unfortunate friend impart anything and everything he knew about Gerry's life away from Guide School, before reconsidering his own future as a Guide. Gerry's main girlfriend, Patricia, had been mentioned prominently during the discourse, along with the fact that she had no idea she was one girlfriend among many.
~'~
Back in bed with her boyfriend, Patricia fumed as he sent her to open the door again. She yanked the door open in a foul mood, and glared at the tall military-looking man standing there with a veritable gang of people behind him. "What?" she demanded. The returning glare could have frozen a lake and it suddenly hit her that she was looking at the Senior Sentinel Prime, complete with his Clan. "Uh...uh...oh fuck."
"If you insist." The coldness of the voice matched the ice in the blue eyes. "Where's Gerry Westward?"
She smiled, or tried to. "Just give me a minute." Shutting the door as far as she could, (one Sentinel foot was in the way), she fled back to her bedroom. "Gerry! I think that Ellison guy is here!"
"What?" Gerry grabbed for his pants again. "Go and stall him!"
"No need for that."
Patricia cringed as Ellison passed her in the doorway, then flinched as someone grabbed her arm. "Let go!" She stared up at the tall female.
"We'd better leave them to it for a while. C'mon."
Patricia's eyes widened as she took note of the Sentinels and Guides filling her apartment. Clutching her robe around her, she did her best to take control of the situation. "Coffee, anyone?"
~'~
Back in the bedroom, the Sentinel's nose twitched as he took in the myriad of scents in there. His Guide's scent was present, but his Guide was not. Glaring down at the man who was scrambling to get dressed, the Sentinel demanded, "Where's my Guide?"
His pants in place, Gerry straightened and gave a smile. "Right here, Jim. It is Jim, isn't it?"
The Sentinel growled in return and stalked around him, circling to return to stand in front of him. "You're not my Guide."
~'~
Gerry stiffened. He didn't know what the hell Blair had done or what this guy Ellison was up to, but he was the next Senior Guide Prime. "I'm Gerry Westward, your Guide, remember?"
There was another growl. "You weren't at the hotel."
"I uh...panicked. I left." He swallowed as the Sentinel leaned in closer to stare into his eyes.
"You're lying."
Tilting his chin in defiance, he glared back. "I'm your Guide."
"Westward, do you know what happens to people who lie to the Senior Sentinel Prime?" The voice was soft but threatening.
"I'm a Guide; you won't hurt me."
"You're no Guide - I'd guess your father bought your way into Guide School. You're just someone who's trying to keep me from my Guide, so I'm within my rights to kill you."
Gerry swallowed again, suddenly unsure. His eyes dropped and sweat broke out on his forehead. He was really starting to rethink the advantages of being Senior Guide Prime if it involved putting up with this guy - he was totally out of control! It wasn't like he needed to be Senior Guide Prime to have social position, although the power would have been great. Nonchalantly, he shrugged, dismissing his former ambitions for the sake of his skin. "Blair Sandburg was the guy at the hotel. I uh...asked him to take my place this weekend because I was busy."
"And he agreed?"
Gerry shrugged again. "He's studying anthropology. He was curious to see a bunch of Sentinels interacting."
"And you thought you'd take advantage of that." It wasn't a question.
"I had plans for this weekend, Blair didn't." Mentally, Gerry was kicking himself for having chosen wild parties over the Clan gathering. If he'd known it would lead to this much trouble, he would have gone along like a good little Guide. Then again, considering how much of a hard ass Ellison appeared to be, maybe it was better it had all fallen apart. He really didn't want to bond with this guy.
"So where's Blair Sandburg now?"
Gerry swallowed again. He might have used Blair...a little...but he didn't want to get the guy into trouble and, considering how white Blair was looking when he came rushing in to warn him, maybe telling Ellison where to find him wasn't a good idea. At least, not until he could warn Blair that Ellison was after him. "I don't know. He might have gone back to Guide School."
"You don't think he did."
'Damn!' "Look, I don't know for sure where he'll have gone. Home, maybe."
"And where would that be?"
"He lives near the docks, in a warehouse down there." Gerry glanced up into the hard-as-granite eyes, then looked down again. He was going to have to try and find Blair first - there was no way he could let him walk into this with no warning.
"Address?" There was silence until Gerry handed over the address, then he got a feral smile as his reward. "There. That wasn't too painful, was it?" Gerry watched the Sentinel turn to the door then tensed up again as the Sentinel turned back. "Oh, and, Gerry," there was silence until the would-be Senior Guide Prime looked the Sentinel in the eye, "don't bother trying to bond with anyone in my Clan. It would be a mistake."
The door shut behind him and Gerry exhaled, suddenly realising that he'd been holding his breath for the last few minutes. He heard the Sentinels leave and grabbed his shirt. With any luck, Blair had headed for the library instead of for home - not that that run down warehouse was much of a home.
~'~
Ellison would have agreed with that assessment if he'd known it. He frowned as his eyes swept over the outside of the warehouse, and his displeasure deepened as the heartbeats of several rodents impinged upon his hearing.
"Nice place. If you like warehouses."
Ellison exchanged a glance with his second in command, Edwards, and grinned suddenly. "He won't be living here for much longer."
"He might not agree with that," Lisa chimed in. The tall Sentinel would have dragged her Guide out of this place in an instant, but she had been bonded for years.
The Senior Sentinel Prime's jaw set itself rigidly. "He'll do as I tell him."
No one dared to disagree.
"He's not here. We'll go back to the Guide School and see if he's turned up there. If not, we keep on looking. We'll check the whole university if we have to." Ellison turned towards Lisa and her Guide, beckoning another Sentinel and Guide pair over. "Lisa, you're in charge. You four stay here. If he turns up, phone me - and don't let him leave." With that, Ellison headed for his truck. The longer his Guide was missing, the more edgy he was becoming. Even though he now knew why his Guide had run in the first place, the fact that his Guide had run at all was unsettling the Sentinel.
~'~
"Blair!"
Blair looked up, startled. "Gerry! Keep your voice down, man. You don't want the librarians throwing us out." He watched in bewilderment as the frantic man hurried across the room to his side and grabbed his arm.
"We have got to get out of here anyway. This'll probably be the next place they'll look!"
"What? Who are you talking about?"
"Ellison and his crowd of Sentinels. They turned up at Patricia's place."
"So? I told you he was looking for you."
"He's not looking for me, he's looking for you!" Gerry shook his arm for emphasis.
"Me? Why on earth would he be looking for me?" Blair looked at his friend in concern. Had he been drinking already?
"He's planning on bonding with you."
"What?!" Blair's voice rose. "He can't do that. He's the Senior Sentinel Prime - you're his Guide, not me!"
"He's changed his mind."
"He can't have changed his mind. Well, I mean...he can, obviously, but why would he?"
"I don't know. All I know is that he practically battered down Patricia's door demanding to know where you were."
Blair thought his heart would stop beating with the shock. "It's the sage. He doesn't want to bond with me - he's furious about the sage! He's gonna kill me!"
Gerry shook his head. "He demanded to know where his Guide was - and he meant you!"
Blair shook his head again as he hurriedly grabbed for his books and started stuffing them into his backpack. "It's gotta be the sage, man, nothing else explains it. I mean, he didn't even get to see me. How can he want to bond with me when he's never even seen me?"
"Scent will do it every time, Chief."
The duo's heads snapped up in unison, their eyes fixed on the figure in the doorway.
"Ellison!" Gerry sounded as appalled as Blair felt.
"I told you before not to get between me and my Guide, Westward. You might want to consider leaving now."
"Gerry?" There was an appeal in Blair's voice but although Gerry's eyes met his, there was no hope of him answering it.
"Sorry, Blair."
Blair watched him go, absently noting the wide detour he took to avoid Ellison.
"Good luck, Blair," and he was gone.
Blair's eyes snapped back to the intimidating figure who was the only other person left in the room. With a couple of textbooks clutched protectively to his chest, he backed away. This did not look good to him.
"It's all right, Blair, I'm not going to hurt you." The Sentinel took a few steps forward, hunger flaring in his eyes.
"Look, about the sage...I knew you'd be pissed about Gerry not being at the gathering -"
"The sage doesn't matter."
"If you say so, man," Blair muttered as he tried to think of something else to say that would stop the guy in his tracks. Unfortunately, nothing was coming to mind. He backed up as the man moved forward again. His eyes skittered around the room, his mind trying frantically to think of something, some way to escape. If he'd had more sage in his pockets, he'd have been sorely tempted to use it, and damn the consequences. Taking a gulp of air, he tried to calm himself. He could get out of this situation, he'd been in bad situations before, all he had to do was think...or act. Suddenly, he hurled the textbooks at the Sentinel and made a dash away from him. If he could reach the other door he could duck down the stairs, maybe lose him on one of the lower floors.
He never reached the door. An arm that felt like steel wrapped around his waist and yanked him off his feet. He was swung around and his back was shoved up against a bookcase, the Sentinel right in front of him, pinning him in place.
Blair's hands fell on the man's shoulders and he pushed, desperate to escape, but the Sentinel was as solid as a rock and didn't move. A hand grabbed Blair's hair and pulled firmly, forcing his head back and exposing his throat. Blair wriggled frantically - this couldn't be happening to him! - then he gasped as the Sentinel's head dipped towards his neck. "No!" 'He's going to -'
He cried out as the teeth bit into his throat firmly, his back arching in reaction. For a few seconds he remained like that: his body arched against the restraint, his mind flooded with disbelief, then the bonding heat kicked in and any thought of resistance left him in a sigh of chemically induced euphoria. Relaxing against his Sentinel, he tipped his head back further, allowing him greater access to his throat while trying to pull his Sentinel closer, needing to merge with him. Vaguely, he was aware of the Sentinel's hands running over him, mapping him, learning him, but he was more aware of how feverish he felt, and of the memories that were filling his mind.
Ellison's mind continued to flow into his; names and faces he'd never known whirling dizzyingly through his mind as his internal temperature soared. For a second he felt caught in a boiling whirlpool of memories that had never been his before blackness overwhelmed him and he slumped against his Sentinel.
~'~
The Sentinel straightened, his arms tightening around his unconscious Guide. His Clan would make sure that they weren't disturbed until his Guide had recovered enough to be moved. Glancing around, the Sentinel almost regretted bonding there and then - there was no comfortable place for him and his Guide to rest - but at least it was done and his Guide would learn that he could not run from him again.
Deciding that one of the armchairs looked about the most comfortable place to sit, he carried his Guide over there and settled him down on the seat. He was pleased when a break in the physical contact between them forced an incoherent murmur of protest from his exhausted Guide, and he perched on the arm of the chair and pulled Blair closer, revelling in the link that was flowing between them.
A knock at the door interrupted his reverie, and he stiffened, then relaxed as he recognised the intruder. "Come on in, Edwards."
The door opened slightly and Edwards half-stepped into the room. Newly bonded Sentinels were notoriously on edge, especially where the safety of their Guides was concerned, and he was obviously being cautious in his approach. "We've cleared a route to the elevator and down to my car. If you want, I'll drive you both back to the loft."
Jim looked down at his sleeping Guide. Getting his Guide to his territory was imperative although he would have preferred to give him more time to recover. Nodding, he said, "Give me a few minutes."
Edwards nodded and the door closed softly behind him.
"Blair." Jim waited then tried again, "Sandburg."
"Mmm?" The eyes remained shut.
"Wake up. We need to move. Once we're at the loft you can rest all you want."
"Mmm...okay...."
Jim wasn't sure that Blair had understood, but he hauled the younger man to his feet anyway, one arm around his waist ensuring that he stayed upright. "Can you walk?"
"Sure...."
Blair's head leaned against Jim's shoulder, his eyes still closed. Jim repressed a grin. It looked like the kid would be walking in his sleep.
~'~
Sighing, Blair forced his eyes open, blinking sleepily as he tried to wake up. He slowly became aware of his surroundings, realising that he was lying on a couch, there was a blanket over him and his shoes were missing. He also realised that he'd never felt so tired in his life. Frowning, he regarded the fireplace he could see - he didn't recognise that, did he?
"You're awake then."
His eyes shot open and remained open as memory came rushing back. Sitting up, he stared up at his Sentinel in horror. "Oh my God! You bonded with me!"
The smile on the man's face spoke volumes. "Yep, I certainly did. Would you like some coffee?"
Blair shoved himself up onto his knees as he watched the man over the back of the couch. "How can you be so calm? You bonded with the wrong Guide!"
He got a frown for that one. "You're not the wrong Guide, Chief. Put that thought out of your head."
"Hello? My name's not Gerry Westward!"
"No, it's Blair Sandburg." Jim looked concerned. "How much of this afternoon do you remember?"
"Enough!" With a groan Blair flopped back down on the couch. His life was ruined. "You were supposed to bond with Gerry...next weekend as a matter of fact. So first of all, you're early, and secondly, I'm not Gerry!"
"No, you're Blair. And you're my claimed and marked Guide." There was a hint of steel in the voice that suggested he'd better accept that fact and hurry up about it.
"Look, Sentinel Ellison -"
"Jim."
"Jim." Blair fought to find the right words to explain to the Sentinel exactly what a debacle this was. "Everyone knows you're supposed to bond with Gerry next weekend. Don't you think people are going to be a little bit confused that you bonded with someone else this weekend?"
For a man in the middle of a monumental mess, Jim looked remarkably calm. "Relax, Sandburg, it's not like a wedding. We don't have to cancel any ceremony or return any gifts." He grinned, "There's not even any preacher involved."
"I know that! But what about your Clan?"
"They already know. Who do you think helped track you down?"
"They...you...." Blair felt like he was choking on the words. They'd tracked him down?
"Maybe you'd better have that coffee."
Blair sat up again and glared at his Sentinel who was now busy in the kitchen. Even his back had a hint of smugness about it as if he were perfectly happy with how things had turned out, while all Blair could see were the looming explanations and upset people - how on earth would Gerry's and Jim's fathers react? They'd arranged the whole thing!
"Stop worrying about it!"
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed his Sentinel's return. Silently, he accepted the mug being held out to him and moved up on the sofa so that Jim could sit down too. He watched as Jim took a minute to drape the afghan that had been keeping him warm over the back of the couch, then sat back, unsurprised when the Sentinel chose the seat right next to him.
"The Clan will be fine with you." Jim smiled, wryly. "I think they're relieved that I didn't bond with Gerry after all."
"There's nothing wrong with Gerry!" Blair hastened to the defence of his friend.
"So what was he planning to do this weekend while you attended the gathering?" Jim demanded.
Blair's gaze dropped to contemplate the pattern on the mugs as he searched for something that was close enough to the truth to be accepted while not actually being the answer: "he wanted to attend a series of wild parties".
"You know, I will be able to tell if you lie to me."
Blair glanced up at Jim's smiling face then away again. Sighing, he accepted defeat. "He had some parties to attend."
"Uh huh. Parties. He should have been at the gathering meeting the Clan and instead he chose to attend...parties."
He could feel a flush of embarrassment covering his face. "Yeah."
"And you chose to attend the gathering out of curiosity."
He sank back into the cushions, feeling the flush deepen. Heaven knew what the Clan thought of him now! "Yeah."
"I think, of the two, you come out of it looking better, Chief."
Blair looked up again then back down. Jim was still looking amused, which was something, he guessed.
"The Clan will accept you, Chief, don't worry about it." Jim's head tilted slightly and he stood up and headed towards the door. "We're bonded and that's all there is to it." He ended the discussion by opening the door. "Hello, Dad."
"Jim! I've just had a call from Christian Westward - he had this garbled story about Gerry and a friend of his called Claire or something."
"Blair. Why don't you take your coat off and you can meet him?"
Blair shrank back even further, wishing he could disappear into the cushions and wishing, irrationally, that he knew where his shoes had got to. It looked like he was going to find out firsthand what Mr. Ellison's reaction would be.
"Blair, Claire...what difference does it make?"
Jim sounded amused again. "I think it makes quite a difference to him, Dad. Claire's a girl's name."
"Jim! The point is that Christian said that you won't be bonding with Gerry as you've bonded with this Blair instead!"
"That's right, Dad, I have." There was a warning bite to Jim's tone that Blair couldn't miss. "And he's sitting on the couch."
~'~
For a second, William considered keeping his coat on and storming out, but Jim had always been stubborn and he knew that it would take quite a bit of talking to get him to see sense, and walking out would just put his back up. Accordingly, he slipped off his coat and handed it over. He was about to walk over to the couch to meet the upstart who'd upset his and Christian Westward's plans when his arm was grabbed.
"Don't embarrass my Guide, Dad. I bonded with him, he didn't have much choice in the matter." The words were hissed in his ear and the tone reminded William that this was the Senior Sentinel Prime of Cascade who had spent several years being a Ranger.
William plastered a fake smile onto his face and waited until his arm was released until he tried to move again. "Well...Blair." He stepped forward and shook hands politely, his eyes flicking over the scruffy figure, taking note of the bite mark that stood out on the Guide's neck. Why on earth had Jim chosen to bond with a boy who looked like he shopped at Wal-Mart? Sitting down, he leaned back in the chair, looking totally at ease. "So, when did you and Jim first meet?"
"At the gathering, Dad," Jim interrupted, sounding tense, as he put the coat on the coat rack, then perched on the arm of the couch in between his father and his Guide, almost blocking the older man's view of the younger man. "Gerry decided he had better things to do than attend and asked Sandburg to go instead."
"Better things?" William frowned. Christian Westward had neglected to mention that small part of it. Maybe if his son had done what he was supposed to, he wouldn't be sitting here gazing at some nobody whom Jim obviously regretted bonding with. "I see. Well, I suppose Blair should be commended for his dedication to uh...duty." He paused, considering the name Jim had given. "Sandburg...Sandburg...I don't think I know the name."
A flush spread across the boy's face then receded, leaving him looking pale. "No, I didn't think you would."
"And what does your fa -" William was interrupted as Blair jumped up.
"Jim, I'm sure you and your father have plenty to talk about. I'll head home and see you tomorrow, okay?"
Standing, Jim blocked his path to the coat rack. "That's another thing we have to discuss, Chief: your living accommodations."
"There's nothing wrong with where I live."
William politely pretended to ignore the very quiet argument that was developing in front of him, all the while listening eagerly.
"There's plenty wrong with it, Chief, but I'll discuss that with you later."
The emphasised 'later' wasn't lost on William and he rose to his feet. "I'll let you discuss it now, Jim. I only called in to make sure that Christian hadn't made a mistake." He accepted his coat, refusing to allow one atom of his fury to show. There would be time enough to deal with this upstart. "I'll see you both soon, all right? Blair, it was a pleasure to meet you." He didn't assume that his act was fooling his son's Guide, the boy was an empath after all, but if he had any sense, he'd keep his mouth shut. Then he was gone, shutting the door quietly behind him.
It wasn't until he was sitting in his car that he allowed his anger to show. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialled the number of his favourite highly priced investigative service that had previously dug up enough dirt on his rivals to bury them. "Hawkins? William Ellison. I want you to find out all you can about a Blair Sandburg."
~'~
The door shut behind William, leaving Sentinel and Guide facing each other in the loft. They waited in silence until they were sure William couldn't hear them, then the 'discussion' continued.
"A warehouse is not a suitable place to live." The Sentinel crossed his arms and prepared to do battle.
"That's my choice to make," the Guide retorted.
"No Guide of mine is living in a rat-infested warehouse, Chief, so get that through your thick skull. We'll go and collect your things tomorrow; you can move in here."
"I'm not moving in with you!" Sandburg spluttered, indignantly. "I've got a perfectly good place down near the docks!"
"It's freezing, it's unsafe, it's rat-infestedand it's a warehouse. You're not staying there."
"It's my choice to make! You're my Sentinel, you don't own me!"
"That's right, Chief, I'm your Sentinel." The Sentinel stalked forward to stand over his defiant Guide. "And you're not living in a rat-infested warehouse, now or ever. We'll fix up the room under the stairs, buy some furniture for it and get it all sorted tomorrow after we've collected your stuff." He could see that Blair was ready and willing to continue arguing so he held up his hand. "End of discussion." Moving past him, he collected the empty mugs and took them into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
He listened to Sandburg fuming quietly, then grinned when he heard a demanded, "Where are my shoes?"
"You don't need your shoes to eat dinner, Chief. What would you like to eat? You can check out the cupboards or we can order in: Chinese, Thai or pizza."
~'~
Blair was furious. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been as angry. "Why won't you give me back my shoes?!"
Jim turned, a set of menus in his hand. "You don't need your shoes to eat dinner and we're not going anywhere."
There it was, that hint of steel again. His anger draining away, Blair sat dejectedly on the couch, not moving as Jim sat next to him and slid an arm around his shoulders.
"I can't let you live in that warehouse, Sandburg. It's not safe. And there are rats in there." As opposed to the arguing of before, Jim's voice was quiet but still firm.
Blair dropped his head forward, his long hair hiding his face. "It's my decision to make."
"Not any more, Chief."
The arm tightened and Blair looked up into Jim's face. The Sentinel was holding back, obviously wanting to bond, wanting to reassert his claim, but obviously equally unsure that his Guide would be willing right now. It seemed typical of the man that he was willing to give the Guide the choice to bond or refuse. Blair gave a rueful smile and dropped his mental barriers. While he might be arguing with Jim, for some reason he really didn't mind being bonded to him. "Sentinel, claim your Guide."
~'~
The weekend flew past. When Blair looked back on it, he had a confused jumble of memories. He'd given in and allowed himself to be installed in the room below the stairs. The warehouse had been cold and lonely and the rats had been huge and no company at all, so the weekend consisted of cleaning, bonding, painting, bonding, briefly buying furniture (the Sentinel had objected to the salesperson getting anywhere near the Guide), bonding and moving all of his things. And underlying it all, like a gold thread that shone through without overwhelming the rest of the tapestry, was Jim. His Sentinel. Okay, the gold thread definitely made its presence felt where bonding and furniture buying were concerned, but it was just there the rest of the time.
He didn't know if he'd been fortunate or whether all Sentinels and Guides became friends, but he and Jim just seemed to click. While their characters and tastes were wildly different, they complemented each other. Even their disagreements had their good sides. Well, so far, anyway.
"Sandburg!"
The roar almost startled him into dropping some books he was trying to fit into the new bookshelves and he hurried into the living room to see what was wrong.
Jim was standing by the couch pointing at Blair's tribal mask, which was propped up in one corner of the living room, with a look of horror on his face. "What is that?"
"It's a tribal mask. You said I could put some stuff in the living room."
"Of course you can, this is your home too. But that's looking at me."
"It's not looking at you, Jim. It's a mask."
"It'll stare at me while I'm watching TV. It'll put me off. You have to move it."
Blair looked at Jim for a few seconds before deciding that Jim was, in fact, serious about the mask needing to be moved. "Okay..." He picked it up and moved it from the corner it was in to another corner. "How's that?"
Jim walked around. "No good. It can see me while I'm cooking."
"It's not a cookery critic, Jim, it's just a mask." In spite of his comments, he tried another corner.
There was another walk around the loft before Jim claimed it'd be giving him the eye when he came out of the shower in the morning.
Blair muttered, "You're not worrying about not measuring up, are you, Jim?" totally ignoring the fact that the Sentinel could hear him.
"Hey, hey! A little respect for the Sentinel, please!"
Blair grinned and moved the mask again. "There. Now all it can see is the window. Will you be outside in your towel and maybe get intimidated? Or perhaps you'll move the TV onto the balcony?"
Jim wandered over and checked out the positioning of the mask. "That's not sarcasm, is it, Chief?"
"No, Jim, it's a tribal mask. I explained that before."
"Very funny, Darwin. Now that that mask has been moved out of the way, perhaps you'd like to help me make dinner."
~'~
By law, all newly bonded Sentinel/Guide pairings had to take a week off in order to settle into the bond. Too many incidents when a newly bonded Sentinel had overreacted to a stranger's nearness to their Guide, just as Jim had with the furniture salesperson, had ensured that the Government didn't put up any kind of a fight when the bill was proposed. As neither Jim nor Blair had intended to bond that weekend, neither of them had arranged for time off, therefore Monday morning would be spent making the arrangements they should have made earlier.
Considering the blossoming promise of the weekend, Blair was half expecting Monday morning to start out with thunderstorms and arguments but, to his astonishment, he and Jim worked amicably in tandem preparing breakfast and getting ready to face the day. The Sentinel had even insisted that his Guide have his shower first in order to be sure that Blair got a hot shower. Blair, used to the quirky if not downright temperamental hot water system of his previous home, had thoroughly enjoyed his hot shower. He realised that Jim hadn't enjoyed his hot then cold shower, but Jim restrained himself to commenting that he had to get a bigger hot water tank and used Blair's guilty conscience to claim the right to use the phone first.
Jim's time off was sorted with a phone call to his boss, Simon. Simon had been attending the police conference with Jim before common sense kicked in and Jim flew back to Cascade to break off his impending bonding with Gerry. Left alone to face the rigors of exceptionally long-winded Police Chiefs who loved the sound of their own voices, Simon had spent the weekend plotting revenge on his friend and planning to make Jim's life miserable for at least a week or two. He was grumpy as hell to get a phone call from Jim explaining that he was now bonded and wouldn't be in work that week, but the news that Jim hadn't bonded to his father's chosen Guide, but had in fact found his own Guide, cheered Simon up immensely. He'd had no faith in Mr. Ellison's ability to pick out anyone that Jim would like to spend time with and was relieved that Jim had gone ahead and bonded to someone totally different.
Abandoning his plans for revenge, Simon promptly offered the loan of his holiday home for a week. Holiday home was perhaps too grand a title for the wood cabin he'd inherited from his uncle, but it was miles from anywhere, chock full of peace and solitude and it had indoor plumbing. What more could a newly bonded pair ask for? The newly bonded Sentinel declared that indoor plumbing was all they required, Blair made no objections, and they accepted the offer with pleasure.
Blair's time off was almost as easily arranged. After contacting his main tutor and explaining why he'd be gone for a week, it only took a few phone calls to call in enough favours to have notes taken at all of the classes he was studying.
Accordingly, the pair packed their bags and headed for the Cascade police department. Simon, knowing full well that Jim would be loath to take his Guide into a crowded police station at the moment, arranged to meet them in the PD garage to hand over the keys and give them directions. He even got to see part of Blair as the Guide peered over his protective Sentinel's shoulder in order to say 'hi'. Jim silently congratulated himself on getting his Sentinel side to calm down enough for Simon to see half of Blair's face, and the pair decamped to Simon's cabin in the back of beyond for a week of relaxation, bonding and fishing.
Stopping on the way to buy enough groceries to last them a week, Blair pre-empted any hostile moves by the Sentinel by sticking closely to his side and using the bigger man as a shield if anyone got too close. There was a slight fracas when a large bodybuilder attempted to pick up the no-fat milk Blair was reaching for, but a loud growl from Jim persuaded the heavily-muscled man that the Guide had every right to take all the milk if he wanted to, and the situation was averted.
~'~
The cabin turned out to be all the pair wanted and more. The peace and solitude had been wonderful, and the indoor plumbing had worked well. It wasn't until Saturday night, when they were both sitting by a blazing fire, that Jim remembered something.
"I was supposed to bond to Gerry today." He bit his tongue as soon as he'd said it. He guessed there was some etiquette (or common sense) involved here. Like never discussing your ex-wife with your wife, you never discussed your ex-possible-Guide with your Guide.
Blair looked up from his cocoa and marshmallows. "I'd forgotten that!" He shook his head, smiling. "Where were you going to spend your week off?"
"Some hotel Westward owns."
"Just think, man, you could have been in the lap of luxury. Swimming pools, Jacuzzis, room service. And instead, what have you got?"
Jim grinned. "A huge lake filled with fish and, more importantly, indoor plumbing!"
"Yeah, those high-priced hotels never have indoor plumbing." Blair sipped his cocoa thoughtfully. "I wonder if Gerry took Patricia instead?"
Jim choked. "He'll have an entirely different kind of week then!"
"Well, there is that." His gaze turned introspective as he dunked a marshmallow.
"No, I don't regret it."
Blair looked up, surprise on his face.
"That's what you were wondering, Chief." Jim shook his head. "I went to the gathering to tell Gerry that I'd changed my mind. I wasn't going to bond with him."
"But you needed a Guide! You told me yourself that your senses were spiking!"
"I know. I just couldn't bond with someone who wasn't my Guide. I'd been trying to talk myself into it, and finally I realised that I couldn't do it. So I went to the hotel to tell Gerry that and found you instead." He grinned. "In the end, it all turned out for the best."
Blair stared at him. "And I've been feeling guilty for stealing Gerry's Sentinel!"
The Sentinel took the mug from Blair's hands and set it down on the coffee table with a clink, then moved in to trap his Guide in the corner of the couch. "No need for that, Chief. I was never his Sentinel."
Part 2.