Blair paced the confines of the small room. It hadn't taken him long after waking up to become severaly annoyed, and having no one to express than annoyance too, he paced, repeating a simple, calming mantra to himself, waiting for something- anything- to happen.

Maybe it was the fact that this happened so often. Maybe it was his own growing sense of self-worth, who knew? But, for whatever reason, Blair couldn't quite reach that level of impotent fright he would normally find himself in. He couldn't even get scared at all. So someone had kidnapped him, so what? Happened once a month or so, no biggy. They would come in, threaten him, do their big bad wolf impressions, maybe knock him around a bit, then Jim would come and save him. Same old same old. He didn't look forward to it, but he didn't get so worked up.

Becoming callous, Sandburg. Not a good thing.

But Blair didn't worry. He only tended to be callous where his own safety was concerned. That didn't bother him. Jim it bothered.

Jim. Geez, man, anytime you're ready, here I am.

Angela. God, he prayed nothing too horrible had happened to her once he was out of it. He remembered hearing the sharp bang of a gun, but if it was her being shot, or her shooting, or just a warning...he had no idea. He just hoped she was alright, whereever she was. And he really hoped she wasn't there, in a matching cell.

Dammit! It came back to him suddenly. These were the ones! These were the animals who had attacked her yesterday. These men beat and raped her, on Christmas morning, for God's sake. And what was more, from the statements they made before Blair went under earlier, they had done it as some sort of message to Jim. Which meant that she'd been the object of the attack simply because she had known the two men. Well, no, she didn't know Jim. She knew him. It was because of him....

No. Blair put a stop to his thoughts suddenly. Jim wasn't there to tell him not to blame himself, but the sentinel's voice floated through his subconscious, reminding him that there was no way he could have known what was going to happen. It wasn't his fault. It was theirs. These men, and whoever it was who had sent them.

When the door to the small room started to open,. Blair wheeled around and faced it. It didn't even occurr to him to be afraid- he simply glared.

A man he recognized from the loft, dark-haired, grinned at him. "Welcome back to the land of the living, hippie."

Blair took in a few different facts at once- this man was armed. But the gun was held loosely in one hand, pointed at the ground. he expected Blair to do nothing at all, to just sit and cower the way he normally would.

But Blair wasn't feeling all that normal.

With a noise that was almost a growl, and a prayer that Jim wouldn't come to rescue him and end up with just his corpse, Blair launched himself at the man.

Hearts beating. The sounds of the street lights. Distant traffic. The sound of light talking coming from the restaurant. The deep sizzle of the frier, the sound of a chas register. In the distance, rats were scurrying through the buildings, their feet making small padded sounds, their tails occassionally striking the ground.

A hand, on his arm. The sound of a person's voice. What were they saying? Didn't matter, just listen for the heartbeat. Listen for that one sound. Nearby....

There it was! A little faster than normal, but healthy, loud beats.

Suddenly a sharp pain in his cheek.

Real life returned to Jim Ellison quickly, as it always did after a zone-out. One moment nothing existed but sounds, or sights, or tastes. The next, everything came rushing to him, and he was back in the world. He just had to have something to bring him out of it.

This time, when his sight kicked back in, it wasn't Blair's concerned face he saw. It was Angela, not even looking at him, shaking her aching hand with a verbal "Ow,"

"Angela. I thought I told you to stay in the truck."

She stopped tending to the hand she'd used to slap him out of his trance and stared at him disbelievingly. "So I'm supposed to sit and watch you stand and stare at nothing for another ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes?" He was out that long? Again, he found himself glad she was there.

"Yeah. What the heck was that?"

"Uh...it's a long story. Sometimes I just...sorta...lose track of things."

"Okay. I'll buy that."

"You will?" He blinked in surprise.

"Sure. I won't question you about that lame answer, and you won't question me when I say I'm tagging along so you don't 'lose track of things' again."

A thousand arguments came to his mind, but he found himself shrugging. "If you want. This might be dangerous."

"You've told me that a thousand times. I assimilate things well, Jim."

He grinned, then suddenly it vanished. "Blair!"

She was startled at his sudden vehemence. "What about him?"

"I heard his heart....I mean, I think he's here."

"Where?" She gazed around at the buildings, then turned, surprised, when he started walking purposefully towards one of them.

"In here," he threw back.

She was left with no choice but to follow him as he went blindly- she thought- into a random building. The fact that the door was locked didn't phaze him, she watched with a smile. He got it open with a couple of well-placed kicks then strolled in careflessly.

She followed more slowly, not saying anything, seeing on his face that he was obviously listening. To what, she didn't know. But she didn't want to disturb him. He seemed confident there was no one nearby to be worried about, but she couldn't be so sure.

He slowed, cocked his head, then suddenly backtracked down the hallway they were walking through and went in one door.

She followed, almost running into him when he stopped a step inside. "What?"

"He was in here," Jim replied.

In front of Angela's surprised eyes, he inhaled through his nose, looking for all the world like he was smelling something. She followed his lead, and...yes, she did smell something. Dust. Wow, big clue, detective.

But in her mind, something wasn't clicking right. Had Jim actually been about to say that he'd heard Blair's heart beat? Now he was smelling nothing. Something was definitely strange about this guy.

And whatever it was, she'd bet Blair had something to do with it.

Uh oh. Jim was getting a blank look on his face, the same one he'd had in the street.

She grabbed his arm. "Jim, don't do this to me again. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you gotta get a hold of it."

He shook his head and glanced over at her. "Sorry. That herbal shampoo." He turned and went out the door, gazing up and down the hall. "Something happened in there."

"What do you mean?"

"I think there was a fight. Fear, sweat, it was all there."

Angela's capacity for disbelief had just about been tapped. "You were smelling fear?" she asked calmly.

Jim's eyes seemed to blank out momentarily, then he gave her a wide grin and a loud laugh. "Smelling it? What made you think something strange like that?"

"Then how could you tell?"

He shrugged. "I'm a cop. We tend to develop a nose for these things." He gazed down the hall, getting that head-cocked listening pose.

She watched him silently, a thousand questions and comments springing to mind, but keeping quiet. This guy was strange, no doubt about it. And yet...she liked him. She had no idea why- they sure had made bad first impressions on each other, he hadn't done anything very remarkable since then. Well, except....

Except helping her through her nightmares that night. And being there at the hospital when she woke up. And letting her stay with him because she was too chicken to go back home. And making her feel so safe, and protected, and...well, he made her laugh. And he was a really good-looking guy, she had to admit that.

Ughh. What the hell was she doing? This wasn't exactly a good time to start developing some crush on Blair's roommate. This was about Blair.

"So?" she voiced finally. "What's going on?"

Jim started down the hall slowly. "I heard it, I know I did. But it's gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"Uhh. Nothing," Shit, he had to stop thinking out loud. But he was distracted. Blair's heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Which meant...no. No. It didn't mean he was dead. There was absolutely no reason to think that. Maybe they'd taken him away....but no, there were still those two other heart beats, one of them slower than it had been, more normal, though both were still a little too fast- angry, perhaps.

Maybe the kid had gotten away.

Jim grinned as he walked. Wouldn't that be something? Blair would never let him forget it, if he'd managed a brave getaway all on his own. Of course, Jim never doubted he could do it. That man was capable of anything if he set his mind to it, he'd proven that by now.

He became aware of Angie's presence by his side, and he found himself momentarily distracted. What was it about her that made him so comfortable he'd blurted out several rather incriminating symptoms of his sentinel abilities? He never slipped up like that- he'd been pulled out of zone-outs accidently by strangers before, once or twice. He managed to control himself enough to make up some quick story about some chilhood disease making him black out standing up every now and then, or some garbage like that. But he was too comfortable with her, he made mistakes. She was getting suspiscious, and this was, what, the third day they'd known each other?

Too strange, for him at least. Now Blair, he could fall in love in an hour, and he did, over and over again. But not Jim. Jim was more....

Wait a minute. Did he say love? Why would he even be thinking the word?

No, oh no. Shit, this was bad. Blair was missing, there were murderous psychos hurting people Jim loved- no, Jim knew- and here he was trying to steal Blair's girl from him.

"Jim? I know you're not 'losing track', cause you're still moving. But you're getting that look on your face. Stay with me here, this place is too spooky for you to flake out and leave me alone."

He smiled over at her. "Sorry, just thinking. Really, I was."

"About what? What's going on here?"

Oh, what the hell. Blair knew her, he trusted her. Jim knew her well enough to know she was good people- she'd proven herself as a friend already, just being there. What the hell? "Angie, this is going to sound bizarre, I know. But I heard Blair's heartbeat earlier, that's how I knew he was here."

"I knew it! I knew that's what you were going to say!" Her voice lost it's triumphant edge. "That's what you were going to say. That's kinda crazy, Jim."

"I know. And I can't tell you everything now. I can't even believe I'm telling you this much. I mean, there are only a few people in the world who know. there are people who are really close to me who don't know, but I'm telling you. Maybe it's because Blair's life's at stake here, maybe it's just-"

"Jim. You're rambling."

"Yeah, I am," he agreed. "Sorry. Just suspend your disbelief long enough to trust me. I could hear his heart beating, now I can't. I don't think he's here anymore."

Her eyes grew round. "You don't mean..."

"No, no. At least, I don't think he's dead." He'd better damn well not be dead. "I would know, I think. I just don't think he's here. Sometime when I was zoned out, he got away."

"Got away? Escaped?" She grinned.

"I can't be sure. Someone else may have come to...look, it's not important right now. There are two other people in this building, and I'm going to find them. I suggest you go out and-"

"-wait in the truck. You're Johnny one-note tonight, aren't you?"

"Alright, let me put it this way. If Blair got away, he could be close-by. If he ses the truck, he's going to come back. And if none of those is the case, I need someone to call for back-up so we can grab these guys."

"Call for backup? How exactly would I do that? I mean, this is real life, not Lethal weapon," she gave him a sardonic smile.

He returned it. "Just use the mic to the station, talk to whatever operator's on. You don't have to use any special codewords or anything, come on. Tell them where we are-"

"Alright, I get the picture." She didn't move. "What are you gonna do?"

"Jesus, you're as bad as Sandburg. I'm going to get close to these guys, find out what's going on. I'll be careful, I won't zone-out, I won't be a hero, et cetera and so forth."

"Zone-out? is that what you call that?"

He shrugged. "It's Blair's term. Now just go,"

She gave him a searching look, then turned and left quietly, moving quickly to get back to the front of the building.

He found himself listening to her departing footsteps before catching himself and sending his senses back out to hear the two men.

Whereever they were, he was close enough to make out words.

"-be going to the cops."

"So we have to get out, no big deal."

"No big deal? People know I use this place. The cops just have to ask anyone who knows me. They'll come after me. You said we could be anonymous."

"That kid isn't going to go to the cops, alright?"

"Yeah? Give me one reason why he wouldn't. Besides, you thought he'd be easy to handle. By the look of your shiner, he wasn't. We're getting out of here."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll go. I dunno where we could...oh, you know, I've got an idea. Place of my uncle's, away from the city. Sound good to you?"

"Who cares? Just not here."

Jim found himself grinning as he walked. Blair actually had escaped. Took on one of his kidnappers and gotten away scott-free. Hanfging out with Jim was definitely starting to have a good effect on him.

"-across from the KFC.....No, this isn't a prank. Geez, how do you think I'm using this radio?"

He found himself focussing on the quieter sound of Angela's voice, from the nearby truck, and realized that meant Blair was further away than he thought- if he could hear her, he should be able to hear that one heart beat.

"Alright, yeah, you got me. I've kidnapped the guy and I'm holding him for ransom. Either way, I'm at this stupid warehouse and he needs backup. Now get some guys over here before I go in and shoot the pig myself."

He almost laughed out loud at her exaggeration, listening as she put the mic down, and he heard the slam of the truck's door.

She was leaving the truck. Coming back here. Damn it, she should know better than-

"What have we here?"

"Shit," This time Jim said it out loud.

"Pretty much," the blonde man- Steven Varnes, agreed, levelling the pistol. "Just the man we were...indirectly...trying to find."

His dark-haired friend grinned.

"Give it up, Varnes. We know all about you and your friends. We know the set-up, you're not going to get out of this building, no matter what you do."

"I think you're lying. I think you came here alone hoping to save your little partner. Well, guess what? You're too late."

No kidding, Jim thought. "Oh?" he said out loud.

"Yeah. The hippie thought he could get away. I'm afraid we had to kill him." Varnes grinned, wanting a good look at the pig when the surprise of his little lie overtook him.

Jim simply returned his gaze. "So why are you worried about a corpse going to the cops?"

The tables turned- in his own surprise, Varnes lowered his gun slightly. "How the hell did you-"

That was all Jim needed. In a sudden, sharp move, he dropped to the floor and went into a roll, pulling his gun as he moved, expecting the sound of a gun to reach his ears, and a searing pain to fill his world every millisecond.

They didn't shoot, though. The two men stood, aiming their weapons, indecision in both pairs of eyes.

Jim, crouched now to make the smallest possible target, aimed his weapon at Varnes.

A stand-off, plain and simple. Something would have to happen to break this, to distract either him or the two men, to give one of them an opening to shoot at-

The dark-haired man, defying expectation, seemed to suddenly realize there was no gun pointed at him- his concern for Varnes was so nonexistent that he didn't hesitate to shoot.

Jim's finger tightened on his own trigger at the sound, but his arm was jarred as he bullet tore into his shoulder, and his shot went wide. The gun fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, and Jim knew with a flash of insight that was more painful than the newest hole in his body that he was at their mercy.

Surprisingly, mercy was what they showed, the gun barrels lowering to point at the gound, both coming forward.

Jim straightened, his arm clutching at the wound on his shoulder, trying to ignore the pounding of blood in his brain, ready to defend himself. If they would be so stupid not to shoot him while they could, he planned to take every advantage-

"Stop where you are. Don't even get near him."

Oh, shit. Angela.

She aimed the pistol she'd found, not surprisingly, in the glove compartment of Jim's truck. She drew on every single acting class she'd ever taken, every single ounce of experience and control she had, to hide every surging emotion and let nothing show in her voice but anger and a threat. She moved the gun from one to the other of the two men who, along with their friends, had haunted her dreams, appeared in her head every time she closed her eyes.

Varnes recovered from the initial surprise of seeing who it was who now had them covered and leered, not bringing his gun up but still moving. "Why, Angela. Never thought I'd see you again."

"Shut up," she gritted out.

Jim slowly got to his feet, staying to the side so he didn't block the men from her.

She glanced at him nervously. "Are you alright?"

"I'll live." He moved to her side and reached for the gun.

She didn't move, made no offer to give it to him. her hard gaze was on the two men in front of her.

"Angie," he said simply, his voice quiet.

She let out a slow, venting breath and started to hand the gun over.

There was another roar, and Jim suddenly let out a small cry, his leg buckling under him. He lot his balance, and tried desperately to avoid hitting Angie as he fell, but she had instinctively turned to him to see what was the matter, and he knocked her arm back as gravity brought him to the ground. The gun went clattering against the wall and to the ground as she lost her grip, trying to catch him.

Jim stayed on his knees, agony coursing through his incresaingly hazy world as he saw through veiled eyes as the two men approached the pair.

Well, he found himself thinking as one of them came right up to him, and he saw a fist reared back to strike. At least Blair got away.

Then his world went black.

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