Blair closed his lupine jaws with a snap. That was Dee's voice, but it was inside his head. //Dee?// He thought the question, giving it a little mental push outward.

//Not so loud, wolf, I hear you.// The underbrush rustled, and a black mare entered the small clearing, head lowered in greeting. The mare touched noses with the wolf, snuffling loudly. //See, it's okay, it's me.//

The wolf sat back on his haunches, gazing up and up at the huge midnight horse. If he'd had any doubts they were dispelled by the mare's brilliant blue eyes. //Oh, wow, Dee, you're beautiful!//

The mare swished her tail and nudged him with her head, nearly bowling him over. //Glad you noticed. Now we have a job to do. Put that nose of yours to work, Lobo.//

//My nose?//

//A figure of speech, Blair. Jim is here; the jaguar is here. Listen with your heart. It will lead you to him.//

Blair stood, and slowly turned round in a circle, focusing all his energy, all his thoughts, all his heart on Jim. //Jim,// he thought, //if you can hear me, give me a sign.// Nothing. He shook his head, and whined low in his throat. //I can't find him!// he cried to Dee.

The mare lowered her head, nipping at the ruff of fur on the wolf's neck. //Try again, Lobo. Just relax. Pick the direction that calls to you most strongly, and we will go that way.//

Again Blair slowly circled the clearing, searching for some sound, some sign, some feeling…There! Something was tugging at him, wrapping fingers around his heart, urging him to follow. //This way!// he called gleefully, dashing into the forest.

With a snort, the mare followed. The wolf quickly out paced her in the thick underbrush, the mare's bigger size forcing her to take the long way round obstacles the wolf dashed over, under or through. She would catch up to him when he paused to check his direction, then he would take off again, tail flying behind him, tongue lolling. She was picking her way through a particularly dense thicket when she heard Blair calling her anxiously. //Dee! Over here! I've found him!//

Breaking through the last stand of trees, she galloped down a steep hillside, sliding to a stop in front of a very strange sight. Plopped down in the middle of a field was part of a building. No, she decided, it was more like part of a room with the black jaguar in the center of it. A curving brick wall rose from the meadow behind the cat, and a concrete floor was underneath his feet. The rest of the room was open to the meadow and sky. The silver wolf lay alongside the prone cat, his muzzle resting over the jaguar's shoulder.

A whine escaped the wolf's throat //He's hurt, Dee, hurt bad. You have to help him.//

The mare concentrated, and then her image shimmered, like ripples on a pond. When the shimmering stopped, Dee knelt beside the silver wolf, clad in the tunic and armor of an Amazon warrior, a sword strapped to her back. She ran a hand over the wolf's shaggy head.

//Wow! How'd you do that?// Blair asked.

"Just visualize yourself as human again. It takes some concentration, but…" Blair's form shimmered under her hand, and she found her fingers buried in brown curls instead of silver fur.

"Oooh," Blair said. "That's gross. It's like walking through jello." He glanced down at himself. "Not the shaman outfit again," he groaned.

"I think you look kind of cute in that loincloth, um, thing," Dee said. She reached out toward the black jag, "Now let's see how bad this…" With a roar, the cat lunged at her, his claws narrowly missing her throat. Dee scrambled back a few feet. "Okay, Lobo will see how badly you're hurt. Go ahead, Blair. He trusts you." Blair moved closer to the cat, gently rolling him on his side, so Dee could see the long, deep wound that ran diagonally down his right flank. She also noted the heavy metal collar around his neck, and the chain leading to the wall.

"How's his pulse, Lobo?"

Blair laid his hand on the great cat's chest. "Fast, but thready. He's wheezing when he breathes, too." He turned anxious eyes toward her. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know. I've never tried healing from the spirit world before. And he's not gonna let me get close enough to touch him, let alone I don't think my touch is going to affect him. Let me try something. Just hold on to him in case I'm wrong." Dee moved around behind the jag, and grabbed for his tail. Her hand went straight through it. "That's what I thought. You can touch him because you are bound to him, I can't."

A frown creased Blair's forehead. "But you said before you were bound to him too."

"Through you, Blair, only through you. If you weren't here, I wouldn't be able to see Jim, let alone help him." Dee sat back on her heels, her mind turning their options over. Ellison was severely injured, and they still were no closer to finding out where he was. She suspected the sentinel was probably unconscious, and that was why they were interacting with the jaguar.

"Dee," Blair said, interrupting her thoughts, "if your only connection to Jim is through me, can't you heal through me, use me as a conduit?"

"It's worth a try. If this works, I don't want to hear another word about you not knowing any of this shaman stuff." She moved over beside Blair, placing her hands over his. "Just hold your hands about an inch above the wound. We'll start at the bottom, and move to the top very slowly, okay?" He nodded, and Dee closed her eyes in concentration, reaching deep inside herself and projecting her Quickening out through her hands. She quickly found it took an extra effort to push the energy through Blair and into the jag, but it was working. She could feel the edges of the wound beginning to knit together. She knew she didn't have enough strength to completely heal him, especially if she wanted to bring both of them back safely from the spirit world, but what she could give him was enough to stabilize him, to keep him hanging on until help arrived.

Satisfied she'd done as much as she could, Diandra ceased her work, and leaned heavily on Blair. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. See if you can connect with him enough to talk to Jim." Blair gave it his best shot, but he couldn't get the cat to change into Jim, or to communicate mentally with him the way he and Dee had done in their animal forms.

"Damn it," Dee said. "What we need is some outside help, someone in the spirit world who is not bound by the constraints we are, who is not tied to Jim." As if in answer to her plea, the shrieking cry of a falcon came from over head. Dee stood on unsteady legs. "Goddess," she whispered, "Lydia!" And then the black mare was bounding across the field, her hooves churning up great clods of soil as she galloped after the soaring bird.

It took Blair a moment to figure out what was going on, then he shifted into wolf form, and loped after her. Dee's trail led him to the top of a rocky cliff, where he found the mare staring down below at another cliff, this one with the surf beating at its foot. //He's there,// she said, nodding her head in that direction. //In the tower.//

A powerful beam of light swept across horse and wolf and on out to sea. //A lighthouse!// Blair exclaimed. //I recognize this, I know where this is!//

//Then we must hurry back. Are you ready?//

//Yes,// he replied, then looked skyward before the spirit world faded around him. //Thank you, Companion,// he called after the red falcon. Wheeling in the heavens, the bird screamed in joyous response.

//Thank you, my love,// Dee whispered, then the world faded to black.

She opened her eyes to a topsy turvey world. Someone was calling her name, but it seemed like they were a long way away, and she was tired, so tired. She closed her eyes again, and the annoying world went away.

The second time she awoke, she kept her eyes closed, reaching out with her hearing first, finding the familiar beat of the Guide's heart. She let the sound wash over her, each beat grounding her, giving her strength, calling her back from the darkness. She breathed in his scent, finding it comforting, but tinged with the metallic odor of fear. That knowledge gave her the motivation to push the darkness the rest of the way back, finally opening her eyes.

She gazed up into the worried face of her Companion, (Companion? Where did that come from?) seeing relief flood his features as he realized she was awake. "Hey, Dee, you're back," he said softly, considerate of sensitive ears.

"Mmm," she managed, "how long was I out?"

"About 30 minutes, give or take." Blair helped her to a sitting position, and she realized they were still on the workout mat in the studio. "You gave me a real scare. I figured you were just exhausted from healing Jim, but I was about ready to call for help if you didn't wake up soon. Do you have a headache?" he asked, reminded of the last time she had healed.

"A little one, not bad." Leaning over her legs, she stretched. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," he replied. "We were in the…" he hesitated, "the spirit world for a long time."

Looking up, she smiled at him. "Well, we had a lot of work to do. Help me over to the sofa, and let's put all our information together and come up with a plan for rescuing Jim."

Blair did as she asked, getting her settled on the cushions, and bringing her the info they'd gotten from Joe on Phillipe Seis. While he fixed some soup for her, figuring she would need to replenish the energy she had expended, Dee went over what they knew, and drew up a plan of action. When Blair came back to the living area, she handed it to him, taking the mug of hot liquid in exchange. He sat down on the sofa next to her, and she flipped her legs over his lap. Giving her a bright smile, he rubbed her knee with one hand as he perused the paper she had given him.

Finally, he looked up at her. "So you figure Kendall isn't going to contact me until tomorrow at the earliest?"

She nodded at him over the rim of the mug. "Immortals are nothing if not creatures of habit. According to the Watcher chronicles, Seis liked to let the families of his kidnapping victims worry and fret over at least 24 hours. He won't change that pattern now, especially since he thinks we have no idea what happened to Jim. That's our big advantage. We know who and where he is. He thinks we're gonna be tripping over ourselves in the dark until he drops a clue our way. That's why a rescue tonight will catch him completely off guard."

For the first time since he'd realized his partner was in danger, an expression of hope crossed Blair's face. "Okay, I'll call Simon and let him know where Jim is…"

Dee's hand on his arm stopped him in mid-sentence. "Blair, I don't think it's going to be that easy. First of all, Kendall is Immortal. He's not going to give a shit about the Cascade PD. Yes, he is isolated, and pretty much trapped in that lighthouse but right now, it's looking more like a fortress. The PD surrounds it, he kills Jim, gets his jollies, and takes a dive off the cliff in back. Simon thinks he's dead, and Kendall's knocking on your door tomorrow while they're dragging the cove for him. The only way you're going to be certain he's not going to come after you is if …"

Blair cut her off. "Is if you kill him. I can't let you do that, Dee. Jim is my partner not yours. I can't let you risk your life for him."

Dee made an impatient noise in her throat. "I'm not going to argue that with you now, Lobo. Let's just go over the rest of what we know. Kendall had help taking Jim yesterday, probably two or three guys. That help is probably also at the lighthouse. They are going to be Kendall's first line of defense. That's not a big problem. What is a big problem is the time. At a certain distance away, maybe 50-100 yards, Kendall will know I'm there. What we have to do is reach Jim before he does. It can be done, Blair, but its going to take perfect timing and teamwork. I am going to have to engage him in combat while you rescue Jim."

Blair stared at the paper in his hands, her sketches of the area around the lighthouse and the positions of the participants in this drama now seen for what they were: battle plans. "You have this all figured out," he said softly.

"Yes," she answered him. "Kendall won't refuse my challenge, and really all I have to do is be in his way. He won't get to Jim or you, before you can escape."

He looked back up at her, tears burning his eyes. "Dee, I can't…"

"I know this is frightening, Blair, and I know this isn't how you're used to doing things. You're used to Jim and Simon making all the decisions, and now it's just you and me. These plans aren't set in stone, Lobo. I have my champion senses, you have your guide abilities. We need to use them to check this place out, make sure this is something we can handle ourselves. If it looks like we can't, we call for backup. The only problem with that is it increases the risk of Kendall escaping."

"And Jim dying," Blair thought. "What do you want to do?" he asked out loud.

"We wait until it's full dark out, and take a run up there. Once we're actually there, we can decide what to do." Finishing her soup, she set the mug down on the table. "Eleven p.m. ought to be dark enough."

"What do we do until then?"

She shifted to a sitting position, and said, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some rest." Rising, she headed off to the bathroom, and came back a few minutes later to find Blair stretched out on the sofa cushions, having kicked off his shoes and set aside the plans. He patted the place beside him on the couch. A soft smile curving her lips, Dee lay down next to him, resting her head on his chest, and feeling his arms wrap securely around her. "What's all this for?" she asked, once she was comfortable.

His fingers began gently stroking her back. ""Just…because," he said quietly.

Dee hugged him a little tighter. She understood his fear only too well. He was having to face the possibility of losing both Jim and her tonight. She wished there was something she could say to him, some assurance she could give him that everything would turn out all right, but she knew from experience there was nothing she could do except hold him and hope that was enough. The sound of his heart underneath her ear, and his rhythmic touch soon lulled her to sleep.

By midnight they had reached the lighthouse, parking the Cherokee off the road a quarter of a mile away. They hiked the rest of the way in across the rocky ground, Dee guiding Blair, since they couldn't risk a light. Settling into a surveillance position at the outer limits of Immortal warning systems, Dee focused her senses on the tower, Blair crouched beside her guarding against a zone out.

"There's only three of them, besides Jim," she told him. "Two of them on the bottom level of the lighthouse, one of them climbing the stairs to the top. Jim is in one of the ground level rooms." She cocked her head toward the building, listening to the other sentinel's vital signs. "He sounds conscious. Do you think you can reach him, Lobo, let him know we're coming?"

"I'll try," Blair said. "Jim?" he called softly. "If you can hear me, say something, man."

"I think he hears you, his heart rate's increased."

"Chief? Is that you?" Jim said. Dee relayed his words to the guide. "Who's that with you, Blair?"

"It's the calvary, Jim. We're coming to get you out of there," Blair replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"Chief, what are you up to? Is Simon there?" Jim had a million other questions, but he knew his partner wasn't going to give him the answers.

"Let's just say this is an unofficial party," Blair said. He glanced at Dee, who nodded. "Get ready, Jim, we're going to be there in a couple minutes."

Dee stood, her katana in hand. "Ready, Lobo?" she asked.

Blair tightened his grip on his staff. "As I'll ever be."

She took a long look at him then, memorizing every line of his beautiful face, his fierce blue eyes, his full lips and strong jaw, the way the chestnut curls that had escaped his ponytail blew around his face in the sea breeze. Leaning toward him, she pressed her lips against his gently, and said, "I love you, Lobo," then she started down the slight hill toward the lighthouse.

Blair remained where he was for several stunned seconds, then he raced after her, catching up to her as she said, "Kendall knows we're here." Breaking into a run, she sprinted the last 50 yards, an Amazon war cry spilling from her lips, Blair hot on her heels.

Ellison was on his feet, the wound in his side a dull ache mostly forgotten in his anxiety. "Blair, damn it, what the hell do you think you're doing!?" He yanked futilely at the chain leashing him to the wall of his small prison. He could hear sounds of combat from outside, then silence broken only by hurried footsteps. "Lobo, here!" he heard Diandra's voice call, and then she was outside the door. "Stand back from the door, Ellison!" she yelled. He pressed as close to the far wall as he could get, and with a crackle of energy and a loud crash, the door blew off its hinges.

Diandra stood outlined in the opening for a moment, her electric gaze meeting his for a split second. Whirling around, she charged up the spiral staircase, her words ringing in the round chamber. "Evan Kendall! I, Diandra of Delphi, Champion of Cascade, challenge you!" The sound of swords clashing floated back down the stairs.

Blair was at his side in a moment, tossing a long staff to the ground and yanking a pair of bolt cutters from his jacket. "Jim! Are you okay?" his guide asked, anxious eyes going quickly to his injury.

"I'm fine, Chief, I'm fine. Just get me out of this thing," he said, his hands tugging at the metal band around his neck.

"Okay, man, just bend down so I can reach you." Jim knelt on one knee, and Blair applied the cutters to the padlock on the collar. With a sharp snap, the lock sheared in two, and the collar sprang open. Stuffing the tool back in his pocket, Blair helped Jim up. "Come on, we have to get out of here," he said.

His arm over his guide's shoulders for support, Jim allowed himself to be led toward the exit. Two men lay in crumpled heaps just outside the lighthouse entrance. Jim cast a surprised look at his partner. "Your work?" he asked.

"Yeah," he replied with a grin, "mine and Dee's…" As he said her name, Blair stumbled and fell, dragging Jim down with him.

"Chief?" Jim queried. The younger man's eyes were wide and unseeing, his hand clutching his chest. Razor sharp pain radiated from his right shoulder to his left hip. Jim lowered him all the way to the grass, terror knotting his stomach. "Blair, talk to me…"

He jerked under the sentinel's hands, as if awakened from a trance. "Oh, god, Dee!" he cried, then he was rolling out from the other man's grasp and running back toward the lighthouse. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top of the lighthouse in moments, dashing across the lens room and through the open door onto the catwalk surrounding the top of the tower.

Dee was on her back on the narrow walkway, her sword held perpendicular to her body, one hand on the hilt, the other on the back of the blade. Only the strength of her arms was keeping Kendall's sword at bay as it pressed down on her katana. Her white shirt was torn and stained with blood, her face the blank mask of a zone out.

"Dee," Blair whispered, instinctively analyzing and reacting to the Champion's plight, "turn down the pain dial, turn it all the way down." For a moment, there was no reaction, then a snarl curled her lips, and both her feet kicked up and out, connecting with Kendall's stomach, knocking him back.

Rolling onto her shoulders, Dee flipped up to her feet. Her sword flashed through the air, and she was on the attack again, the two blades throwing sparks each time they met. Blair stepped back inside the lens room, out of the way. The lamp continued to turn, its powerful beam illuminating the dueling Immortals for a brief moment with each rotation.

Their deadly dance brought them round once again to the doorway. They maneuvered for position, Dee with her back to the railing, Kendall with his to the door. As Blair watched in horrified fascination, his sentinel pushed past him. "NO! JIM! You can't interfere!" The guide's words came too late, as Ellison hit Kendall from behind, knocking him into a startled Dee. Her eyes met Blair's over Kendall's shoulder for a brief moment, their blue depths expressing her love and her sorrow. Then with an agonizing shriek, the metal railing gave way, the two Immortals plunging over the cliff.

"NOOOOO!" Blair screamed, as he lunged after Jim, only his arms around Jim's waist keeping him from following the others. Sentinel and guide tumbled to the catwalk, Blair scrambling to the edge and peering down at the dark, jagged rocks below. "She's okay, she's okay, she's okay," he chanted, trying to reassure himself.

And then the Quickening began.

Lightening flashed a brilliant blue-white, striking the cliff, the rocks, and the lighthouse. Grabbing his guide around the waist, Jim hauled him back into the lens room, turning his eyesight down as far as it would go. Still the violent explosions blinded him. Blair was clinging to him, in the full throes of a panic attack, his heart racing, his breathing ragged, his body rocked by great shudders. "Noooo, Dee, noooo," he cried.

A long tendril of electricity arced from the catwalk through the window above Jim and Blair, showering them with glass. Jim covered his partner with his own body not a moment too soon. A second bolt of energy shot through the window, striking the lamp, exploding it in a ball of golden sparks, plunging the room into darkness. As if that was the Quickening storm's dying gasp, silence descended on the shell-shocked pair, broken only by the suddenly loud sobs of the guide. Jim held him tightly, brushing the glass off him with one hand, while the other tangled in his hair, pressing the distraught man against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was there. I'm sorry…."

Slowly quieting, Blair leaned against his soulmate, absorbing his strength, trying to pull himself together. Unbidden, Dee's words came to mind, "Believe me, you would know it if he were dead…It would hurt like nothing you've ever felt in your life." He was so startled he nearly forgot to breathe, and even Ellison noticed his shock.

"Blair, you okay?" he asked.

Closing his eyes, Blair turned his sight inward, searching his heart for the answer. His eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet, shaking himself like a wolf, glass shards flying everywhere. "SHE'S ALIVE!" he yelled, and ran for the stairs, his headlong flight only slowed by the blackness into which he raced.

Getting slowly to his feet, Jim followed him down the stairs and across the rocky ground to the guardrail at the edge of the cliff. Blair was leaning as far over it as he could without falling. Coming up behind him, Jim grabbed his arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

The younger man looked back at him. "Dee's down there. Can you see her, Jim?"

The detective moved no closer to the edge. "She's gone, Blair," he said gently. "No one could have survived that fall, let alone that freak electrical storm. The best thing to do is get search and rescue out here."

Blair shook his head. "No, she's alive," he said fiercely. "Would you just do me a favor and look, man?"

Sighing, Jim stepped up to the rail and leaned over, his partner's grip on his belt anchoring him. Even with his Sentinel sight, the jagged rocks were pretty dark. But there was something that seemed out of place, a gleam of metal to the left of where they were standing. He moved a couple feet in that direction, and leaned over again. This time he saw her mangled body, still clutching her sword, wedged between two giant rocks at the bottom of the 100-foot drop. As he watched, a huge wave broke over her, the sea trying to claim her as its own. He stepped back from the edge, turning to face Blair. "Her body's down there on the rocks, but it won't be for long the way the tide is coming in. I'm sorry, Chief, she's dead; I don't hear a heartbeat. I know she was your friend, and she risked her life to save me, but…"

"I'm going down there," Blair announced.

"What!? Chief, you're crazy! Just let me call Simon and we'll get a team out here. There's no need for you to risk your life too!"

That was the wrong thing to say. Blair's eyes burned holes in Jim. "I would do it for you," he said dangerously.

"Yes, but that's different…" Jim started.

"No," Blair answered him softly, "it's exactly the same." Turning his back on the sentinel, he headed toward the lighthouse. He returned a few minutes later, a long coil of rope over his shoulder, and a heavy-duty flashlight in his hand. He began turning the end of the rope into a harness while Jim tried in vain to talk him out of it.

"Blair, look, I know you're grieving, but this is too dangerous! You could be killed too, and I'm sure that's not what Diandra would have wanted. If you're determined to do this, at least let me go…"

The offer was tempting, but he knew this was something he had to do himself. "No, you're injured. I'm not going to risk you getting hurt any worse." The hard expression on his face told Jim any further argument was useless.

"All right, at least give me your cell phone, let me call Simon."

Tossing him the phone, Blair fastened the rope to the sturdy fence post. Stepping over the guardrail, he looked down. "At least I can't see the bottom," he thought. In that moment, his fear of heights came rushing back to him, and he thought he was going to be sick. "I can do this," he told himself, "I can do this. Trust in myself, that's what Dee's always telling me." Tucking the flashlight in his jacket, he stepped off into space.

The first few hops were rough, then Blair got into the rhythm, and rappelled quickly to the bottom of the cliff, thanking the fates for Janet, one of his old girlfriends, who had tried to interest him in rock climbing by taking him to one of those indoor climbing places. He'd been a natural at it, but it had always scared him to death. At least the skills were coming in handy. "Yet," he thought, as his sneakers slipped on the wet rocks, "I'm still scared to death."

"I made it to the bottom, Jim," he called up to the sentinel, knowing his partner was watching. He felt a tug on the rope, and knew Jim had heard him. Removing his make-shift harness, and turning on the flashlight, he began to carefully pick his way out to where Dee lay, only her legs and one hand visible to him.

What if he was wrong? What if she was dead? He'd never even questioned her when she'd told him she was immortal, he'd known in his heart she was telling the truth, he hadn't asked for further proof. And Joe, he believed in Immortals, and Adam or Methos or whatever his name was, he was obviously something even if it only was obnoxious. His thoughts distracting him, Blair was caught unawares by the wave of cold water that crashed into him. He grabbed onto a jagged outcropping for support, and barely managed to keep from falling. Now he was cold and wet, and he'd lost the flashlight.

Blinking the salt water out of his eyes, he started forward again, finally reaching Diandra's side. Her body was half on the rocks, half in the water. Grasping her cold, lifeless hand, he started to pull her free of the rocks, praying that the Quickening he'd witnessed had been Kendall's not hers. Her torso lifted from the sea, water cascading from her dark hair, and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Kneeling on the wet stone beside her, he cradled her in his arms, her head leaning against his shoulder. He wondered how long it would take for her to come back; she hadn't been able to explain that part of Immortality to him very well. He felt for the pulse at her throat just as her body spasmed in his arms. Her eyes flew open, and she tried to take a breath. Gagging, she threw up seawater, Blair holding her until the heaving passed. Finally she relaxed against him, drawing in great lungfuls of air.

"Oh, goddess, Lobo, I hate drowning…." she whispered, her voice raspy and tired.

A large wave struck the rocks, drenching them with spray. "Can you stand?" Blair asked. "We've got to get out of here, the tide's coming in."

Nodding, she let him help her to her feet. Glancing around, she found her sword where she had dropped it when she came back to life. Picking it up, she started to follow him back toward the cliff, then realized it made more sense for her to take the lead, since she could see where she was going. Once they reached the base of the cliff, she stared upwards, calculating the best way to scale it. Her night vision picked out a way up, there were plenty of hand and footholds, but it wouldn't be easy, especially for Blair, who would be working blind. Water slapped at her calves, and she realized that they would run out of time very quickly if they didn't get moving.

"Ellison," she called up to the detective, who she could see leaning over the railing, watching them. "Can you support Blair with the line as we climb?"

"Yeah," he answered back, pushing the fact he was talking to a dead woman who was also a sentinel to the back of his mind. She and Blair had a lot of explaining to do, but now was not the time. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine; I can see a way up, and a fall won't kill me," she said with a grim smile.

"Okay, let me know when you're ready." Ellison disappeared from view.

Dee turned to Blair, who was huddled against the cliff face, shivering violently from the cold. "Hey, Lobo," she said softly, stepping in close and pulling him into her arms. "How are you doing, besides freezing?"

"Fffff-fine," he replied, his teeth chattering. "I was so scared, Dee. I was…"

"I know, honey, I know," she replied. "We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later, and your partner is going to want an explanation. Right now we need to get up top." Helping him back into the rope harness, she explained her plan. "First of all, you get to carry my sword." Stripping off her shredded shirt, she fashioned it into a carrying strap, tying one end around the hilt of the katana and the other end midway down the blade. Slipping the strap diagonally over his shoulder, she adjusted it until it fit snug against his back. "Now, " she said, turning toward the cliff face, "put your arms around my neck."

Blair stared at her. "No way, there's no way you can carry me all the way to the top!"

Looking back at him over her shoulder, she said, "I won't be. Ellison will be taking a lot of your weight off me with the line, but he's not strong enough to take all of it, and we don't have time for you to wait down here while I climb to the top alone."

Seeing the logic in her words, Blair did as he was told, wrapping his arms around her neck, feeling her lift him off his feet, shifting his weight so most of it was between her shoulders and her hips. The rope tightened as Jim put pressure on his end, and Dee began to climb.

It was slow going, and Blair closed his eyes, burying his face in her shoulder, trying to keep back the vertigo that threatened to overwhelm him. He had confidence in her, he really did, but each time he opened his eyes, he caught glimpses of the foaming, churning water below. "Talk to me, Lobo," Dee said, sensing his distress. All she needed was for him to panic and his grip on her turn into a stranglehold.

"Uh, okay," he said, trying to come up with a topic of conversation. "Are all Quickenings like that?" he asked.

Grinning, she pulled them up another foot. Always the scientist, she thought. "Pretty much, some are stronger than others. That was kind of a mid-strength one. Kendall wasn't old, but he'd taken some powerful Quickenings." She wondered what Ellison would be making of this conversation. It would all come out eventually, she supposed.

"Does it hurt?" Blair asked.

"It's pure masochism. The most intense pain and the most intense pleasure at the same time. Some of us get addicted to the rush; it's why not too many of us are drug addicts. Nothing can beat the high of a Quickening. I find I have a lot of excess energy afterwards, and I have to burn it off, either with a workout, or…" She hesitated, aware of a third pair of ears. "Or with other physical activities," she finished.

"Does rock climbing carrying a wet anthropologist qualify as an other physical activity?" Blair asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

Dee smiled again, glad his mind was no longer on his predicament. "Yes, though not the preferred activity I'd like to be engaged in with a certain anthropologist right now."

"Oh," Blair said, trying not to wiggle with delight at the mental images that conjured up. "So how did you do it?"

"Kendall?" she asked. At his quiet "yeah", she answered him. "When we went over the side, my sword was between us, the blade at shoulder height. I basically just shoved it through on the way down." She suppressed a shudder.

Blair couldn't contain his. "I'm sorry I asked. That was too much information."

"Not the most elegant of moves, but it got the job done. I've not taken too many Quickenings while I was dying, either. Not the most pleasant way to do it." Dee's fingers finally grasped the top of the cliff. "This is your stop, Lobo. Climb up over me." Once he had done so, she boosted herself over the edge, then joined Blair and Jim on the other side of the guardrail.

"Simon's on his way," Jim said, ignoring the irritated look that announcement got him from Dee.

Taking her sword from Blair, she said, "I'm going after the Cherokee. Lobo, you take Jim inside. He's bleeding again." At her words, Jim and Blair both looked down to see she was right. Blood was seeping through Jim's shirt. As she trotted off in the direction of her truck, she could hear sirens barreling down the drive to the lighthouse. She would have to set Jim straight on a few rules regarding what to do after an Immortal battle. Number one on the list: don't call the cops.

"Does she always have to be in charge?" Jim muttered under his breath, as he let Blair help him back to the lighthouse. His side was really beginning to hurt now. He suspected he'd reopened the wound hauling Blair up.

Blair looked at Jim, a little stunned by his words. He'd never considered Dee as being dictatorial, but now that he thought about it, she had seemed quite the warrior when face to face with Jim once again. "I think you bring that out in her," he said. "Two Alphas in the same company make things a little tense. She's not doing it deliberately."

Jim just grunted noncommittally. "Damn it," he said when they reached the lighthouse entrance. Kendall's partners in crime were gone.

"It doesn't matter, Jim," Blair told him. "You're safe; that's what counts." He hugged the larger man, being careful of his injury.

"You know you have a lot of explaining to do, Sandburg. A lot," Jim said sternly, before turning to face his captain, who had just climbed out of his car, several squad cars and an ambulance pulling up behind him.

Captain Banks looked slowly from his best detective to his anthropologist partner. "Sandburg!" he finally barked. "I thought we agreed that we would share information!"

Blair flushed and began to stammer. "Uh, sorry, Captain. It's just that…that…"

"That we thought it prudent to check out the information ourselves before pulling you away from your leads," came Diandra's calm voice from behind Banks. She stepped into the group, her trenchcoat hiding her torn, bloody, water-soaked clothes. "While surveying the area, a situation presented itself in which we were able to rescue Ellison."

Banks looked from the cool and collected woman to the wet and shivering Sandburg. "We being?"

"Blair and I," she said, her tone daring him to dispute her.

Simon was in no mood to tangle with her tonight. "So where's Kendall?" he asked.

The trio looked at each other, but it was Ellison who spoke first. "He's dead, sir. He fell from the top of the lighthouse. Sandburg went down the cliff looking for him, but couldn't find him." Blair smiled inside. Trust Jim to explain away the complex with the fewest amount of words.

Diandra spoke again. "Captain Banks, I know you have to take statements from all of us, but Detective Ellison needs to go to the hospital."

Simon took at another look at Jim, and this time he saw the bloodstained clothes and grey complexion. "All right, go. I'll talk to all of you in the morning." He gestured to the paramedics, and they swarmed on Jim, leading him away to the ambulance.

Blair shot a glance at Dee, and she jerked her head in Jim's direction. He ran after him, stopping outside the rear door of the ambulance. Jim was seated on the gurney inside, trying not to jump out of his skin as they removed the makeshift bandage. "Jim," Blair said, "I'm gonna ride with you, if that's okay."

"Sure," Jim replied, then he looked past Blair to where Dee leaned against the hood of her Cherokee. Her face was unnaturally white, and as he watched, she started to slide down the truck, but caught herself. "Chief," he said, "Why don't you go with Diandra? There really isn't much room in here."

Blair paused with his hand on the side of the door. "Okay, Jim," he replied, a little stung by his partner's words. Turning around, he headed for Dee's Jeep, just in time to catch her as she finally did collapse.

"I'm okay, Lobo," she reassured him. "Just a little wobbly. A couple days sleep, and I'll be fine." She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. Blair helped her into the passenger seat, then looked toward his partner. Jim nodded at him, then they closed the ambulance doors. Climbing in the driver's side, Blair adjusted the seat, then started the engine and headed for the hospital.

At three o'clock in the morning, the hospital emergency room was almost deserted. Simon Banks paused in the entranceway, his quick glance taking in the sole attendant at the admitting desk, and the two people sprawled across several chairs. Sandburg must have sweet-talked some nurse out of some dry clothes, because both he and Diandra Pallas were wearing scrubs. The police observer was seated in a chair, his head leaning against the wall behind him, his eyes closed. Diandra was sprawled across the three chairs next to him, her head pillowed on her folded coat, which rested in Blair's lap. His arm encircled her protectively, and they looked for all the world like a couple of sweethearts asleep in front of the TV. As if Sandburg and Ellison weren't enough trouble already, Simon thought. Blair had to drag another sentinel into the mix, a female sentinel he was obviously very attracted to. Banks wondered if he could get his vacation early this year. He didn't want to be around for the fallout when Mt. Ellison blew.

Sighing, he crossed the room to the nurse's station, and inquired about Jim. At the mention of the detective's name, Blair opened his eyes. "Hey, Simon," he said. "Any news? Did you find Kendall's body?"

Banks shook his head. "No, search and rescue is still looking." He had stayed quite a while at the crime scene, trying to make sense of it all. It certainly hadn't happened the way Jim had described. Sure, maybe the railing had given way, but not before someone bled all over the catwalk. And the destruction! The door to what must have been Jim's prison was literally blown off its hinges. The lens room looked like a tornado had hit it, windows broken, glass everywhere. Not to mention the fact that the entire lighthouse's electrical system had been cooked. That information he had gotten from a Coast Guard engineer, who had been frantically trying to get the lighthouse running before some ship ventured too close to shore.

The nurse, who had gone to check on Jim, returned. "Dr. Parker decided to keep Detective Ellison overnight. He's lost a lot of blood, and the doctor wants to give him a couple pints before letting him go. There's also a good possibility of infection with such a bad injury. He's been taken upstairs to room 312. You can go see him but only for a couple minutes."

Thanking her, Simon turned back to Sandburg, who was gently shaking Diandra awake. "Hey, Dee, wake up."

Yawning, and stretching slowly, Dee sat up. Brushing her tangled hair out of her face, she said, "Hmm, what's up?"

"They're keeping Jim until tomorrow. I'm going to run up and see him. You wanna come?" Blair rubbed the tired Immortal's shoulders.

Dee yawned again. "No, that's okay. I'll just wait down here for you."

"Are you sure?" Blair asked. "I know you're really tired, Dee. Maybe Simon can take you home." He shot a pleading look at the tall man.

"No, no, I'll be fine," she said. "Go see your partner. I'll be here when you get back." Nodding, Blair kissed her cheek, then headed for the elevators.

Simon thought about following him, but decided he could wait and see Jim in the morning. Still, he would stick around and see if Dr. Pallas needed a ride. Picking up a magazine, he took a seat across from her. She gazed at him for a moment, then refolded her coat, and lay down again, quickly falling back asleep.

She didn't know how much later it was when she awoke, but Captain Banks was no longer in the waiting room. She sat up, trying to figure out what had woken her. Her chest hurt, she realized, and she rubbed her hand over her heart. The pain came again, and she realized it was not so much physical, as it was emotional. She turned up her hearing, searching for Blair's heartbeat. When she found it, it was racing out of control, and the tightness around her heart increased. Angry words reached her ears now, and she was on her feet, moving for the stairs, responding to the Champion's strongest instinct: protect the Companion.

Jim moved restlessly in the hospital bed, trying to find a position that wouldn't irritate his side. The possibility of finding one was highly unlikely. He could feel every one of the 113 stitches the doctor had used to close the long cut, each one itching and pulling with its own unique sensation. The local anesthetic he'd been given wasn't doing a damn thing, and his attempt to turn down the touch dial met with only partial success. If Sandburg were here, he knew he'd have no trouble controlling the pain, but Blair was with her.

He'd had a lot of time to think, during the two hours he'd spent lying on that table in the emergency room, listening to the two of them just outside. They hadn't said much, they hadn't needed to. He couldn't help but hear how their own bodies betrayed them, their hearts beating in slow synchronous rhythm. He could hear when Sandburg's fingers slid through her hair, could hear her little sighs of pleasure as she snuggled closer to his guide.

Part of Jim felt a burst of satisfaction at the knowledge that he'd been right, that she was a trouble-making bitch, but that information had come too late to help him. His guide, his guide was with her now. How could he have been so blind? All the signs had been there, his instant dislike of Diandra, his partner's fascination with her…And Sandburg, how could Sandburg have done this to him again? Blair knew how much his relationship with Alex Barnes had bothered him. Why, why would he work with another sentinel behind Jim's back again? Jim swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. That's what hurt most of all, the feeling that Sandburg had betrayed him yet again. No! He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself! Shaking his head, Jim forced the heartache back, squeezing and twisting and transforming it into something he could use: Rage. When he got out of here, when he was back on his feet, he would kill her. He didn't know how he would manage that with a woman who was able to come back from the dead, but he would find a way. And when she was gone, he would go after Sandburg.

Blair chose that moment to stick his head inside the hospital room. "Hi, Jim, how are you doing?"

Jim's eyes were flat and cold as they gazed at the younger man. "You smell like her," he growled.

Confusion flashed on Blair's face for a moment, then he chose to make light of Jim's comment. "Yeah, well, she did carry me up that cliff. Can't get much closer than that. I smell a lot like dirty seawater too." He gave his partner a grin.

"How long, Sandburg, how long?" was Jim's only response.

"Is it just me, or is it suddenly cold in here?" Blair said, feeling icy fingers tightening around his heart.

"HOW LONG! Or were you ever planning to tell me she is a sentinel?" Jim roared.

"Jim, man, just chill out. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything from you…." Blair tried to explain, but Jim cut him off.

"How stupid do you think I am? I may be a little slow, but I get the picture. All those weeks of running with her, of being too busy to do things with me? I thought maybe you were finally getting your act together, knuckling down and finishing that paper of yours. All that time, all that time I ignored the evidence I saw with my own eyes, your sudden interest in her, you coming home smelling of her…"

Jim continued to rant, as Blair felt the walls closing in. He couldn't breath, he had to get out of there, but his feet were glued to the floor. It wasn't supposed to be like this…He was supposed to sit down with Jim, and Dee, and talk this over. Everything was supposed to be okay….Tears blurred his eyes, and he blinked to try and clear them just as Jim said, "How long have you been screwing her?"

Blair covered his mouth with his hand, knowing he was going to be sick. And then she was there. He didn't need to turn to see her in the doorway; he felt her presence behind him like a furnace blast against his back. When he did look, she was a vision from a dream, a dark avenging angel in surgical scrubs, blue eyes glowing with an inner, raging fire.

The first words out of her mouth were not anything Jim or Blair could understand, but they got the idea. Her hand raised, index finger pointed accusingly at Jim, she repeated her comments in English. "You are a disgrace to our kind. The Companion is sacred; he is our reason for being; we exist to protect him. What you have done is unconscionable; you have intentionally harmed your Guide. What kind of Sentinel are you, that you can't feel his pain? I could hear him calling from three floors and the other side of the building away! You are in the same room with him, and yet can't feel his distress?" She shook her head, then looked at Blair. He took that as his cue to leave, exiting the room and scurrying down the hallway, not knowing where he was going, only that he needed to be away from there.

Stunned, Jim simply stared at her, his senses overwhelmed by the energy he could feel pouring off of her. Sentinel or not, whatever she was, it wasn't human. He turned his attention back to her words, as she spoke again. "I have no doubt Blair will forgive you for the things you said; it is in his nature. I will not. You have belittled him and undermined his self-confidence and judgement for the last time. You hurt him again, I will tear your throat out." With that warning, she left the room, leaving Jim to wonder exactly what had just happened.

Diandra followed the frantic flight of the guide easily, tracking him to the parking lot, where he leaned against the side of the Cherokee, arms wrapped tight around himself, head bowed. She approached him slowly, feeling his heartache as her own, longing to pull him into her arms and comfort him, to take away his pain.

His head lifted as she stopped a few feet away from him. His face was a mask of agony, his eyes wet with tears he would not allow to fall. He took half a step toward her, then Jim's words rang in his head. "You smell like her!" Silently, he turned his back to her offer of solace, feeling his heart break a little more, and climbed mechanically into the truck when she unlocked the door.

The ride to the loft was silent, as was the trip up in the elevator, and the short walk down the hallway. Neither said a word as they unlocked their doors, and went inside, though she stood in her doorway watching him until his door shut behind him. Letting out a long shuddering breath, Dee closed her own door and sagged against it, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting to break something. Instead she took the bag of wet, dirty clothes that she'd somehow ended up with into the utility room and dumped them in the washer, adding soap and pressing the start button. She hung up her coat next, and removing the katana, took it into the studio and cleaned and oiled it thoroughly, not wanting the ancient weapon to rust from its exposure to salt water. Sliding it into its scabbard, she hung it on its hook on the wall.

Turning to climb the stairs to her bedroom, she wondered how her companion was doing. She caught herself as she called him that, then realized it was true. For better or worse, she was a Champion once again, had accepted that role when she had challenged Kendall, giving her title as "Diandra of Delphi, Champion of Cascade." She snorted. How pompous was that? But it was true, and she couldn't see it changing anytime in the near future. Oh, goddess, Blair! She hadn't meant to choose him as her Companion, it had just happened. She remembered that afternoon, when she had bonded with him, shared her Quickening with him, and made him part of her. They would never have found the jaguar in the spirit world if she hadn't…but she regretted it if it brought Blair pain. Though as she thought about it, she realized the fates had led her along a path from which no other trails diverged. She could think of nothing she could have done to prevent what had happened, with the exception of her having never come to Cascade in the first place, and that would have meant Blair's death the night they'd met. No, there had been no other choice.

Reaching out with her hearing, she listened to Blair's muffled sobs from across the hall, each one a knife through her heart. Damn Ellison! Damn him! The heavy workout bag hung near the stairs, and she punched it as hard as she could, once, twice, and then she was a blur of motion, blows and kicks striking the bag in rapid succession. She didn't know how long she kept it up, but it was long enough for her to finally burn up the last of the adrenaline she had been running on ever since the scene at the hospital. Tears streaming down her face, she collapsed on the floor, sobs wracking her tired body.

Gentle hands lifted her into a sitting position, and strong arms cradled her against a warm chest. One hand stroked her hair tenderly, and her companion's voice whispered over and over, "I'm sorry, Dee, I'm sorry."

When she finally ran out of tears, she gazed up into Blair's face, taking in the red, swollen eyes, and blotchy complexion that must be a match for hers. "No, I'm sorry," she said. "If I'd known this would happen, if I'd known he would hurt you, I would have done things differently, I don't know how, but I would have."

Blair shook his head. "It'll be okay, Dee. Jim and I, we'll work things out, we always have. He just needs some time to cool off. When he's ready, he'll listen to me."

Dee nodded, trusting his judgement on this. He knew Ellison far better than she did. With an effort, she got to her feet. Sniffing, she said, "I need a shower, and then about a week in bed. Thanks for coming to check on me, Lobo. Good night."

Blair made no move toward the door, watching his bare toe trace a knot in the wood floor. "Dee," he said slowly, "I came over because, well, because I knew something was wrong. The same way you knew at the hospital that I was in pain." He looked up at her, his blue eyes full of wonder, and something else. "Tonight, out there at the lighthouse, you said something to me, and then took off before I could answer you." He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage. "I love you, Dee," he said softly, "and the things Jim said to me tonight, well, they made me feel there was something wrong with that, that I was wrong for loving you. And I realized, when I felt your pain, when I felt the connection between us, that Jim was the one who was wrong. Love is beautiful, love is strong, love can only make things better, not worse."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "Oh, Lobo, I am so lucky, so blessed to have you in my life." She pulled back, leaning her forehead against his, seeing the love shining in his eyes. He kissed her tenderly, then taking her hand, he led her upstairs.

Dee awoke first the next morning, the bright sun shining through the skylight over her bed having awakened her. Yawning, she stretched, feeling the fading ache in her muscles. Immortality had its advantages, but even it couldn't fully compensate for the abuse she'd put her body through yesterday. It would probably be a couple days before she was back to full strength. Rolling onto her side, she regarded her bedmate warmly. Blair had been through just as much stress as she had, if not more, but his face, relaxed in sleep, showed no signs of it.

She trailed one finger lightly across his cheek, brushing a chestnut curl to the side, feeling the rough texture of beard stubble against her skin. She shivered slightly, her heightened sense of touch making even the most innocent of gestures arousing. Bending her head down, she kissed his shoulder gently, marveling at the beauty that was Blair Sandburg, student, anthropologist, police observer, guide, companion, lover, warrior. He was truly a warrior now, having been tested in battle the night before, and passing with flying colors, never faltering, never hesitating in the brief battle between himself and Kendall's two henchmen. She had helped, a little, by charging through them, knocking them out of her way, but he had done the rest, following her teaching to the letter, using his skills to disable them. It had given her the time she needed to blast open the door to the room Ellison was being held in, and still engage Kendall before he reached the bottom of the lighthouse stairs.

The battle had been swift and furious; Kendall was an expert swordsman, and the tight stairs and even tighter catwalk had given him an advantage, his rapier finding more room to work in than her longer katana. He'd managed to get inside her guard and slash a deep gash from her shoulder to her hip, and she had staggered under the sudden overload of pain receptors. A misstep had sent her sprawling on her back, her reflexes bringing her sword up barely in time to block his downward thrust. She had zoned then, unable to deal with the conflicting messages her senses were sending her. Blair must have sensed the moment she'd been hurt, there was no other explanation for his arrival on the scene at the crucial moment. His calm words had cut through her confusion, giving her a support to cling to as she came back to herself, back to the duel. She would have won the fight, of that she had no doubt, if Ellison had not interfered. She shook her head slightly, the ends of her dark hair brushing Blair's chest. He stirred, but did not waken, his body edging closer to hers, drawn by her warmth, or some deeper connection.

She couldn’t put her finger on the exact instant when their relationship had changed, when they had shifted from friends and lovers to Champion and Companion, but it had been in the last 24 hours, not going on for weeks, as Ellison had suspected. "Ah, Ellison," she said softly, "what am I going to do about you?" She feared her words last night had not gotten through to him, that he did not understand the grievousness of his actions. To harm a Companion…the mere thought was anathema to her. Lydia and she had not always seen eye to eye; a champion and companion shared one soul, but that did not mean they were of like minds. Lydia and Diandra had both been strong personalities, and they had often clashed over strategy or policy, but never had they doubted the bond between them. Just as Blair never doubted his connection to Jim. Why then couldn't Ellison see that her relationship with Blair was no threat to him? Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he had met Blair so late in life, that they had not been bound together since their youth; the connection was not as firmly ingrained as it had been between herself and Lydia. Or maybe it was something in Ellison's own emotional makeup. Blair had mentioned something about Jim's cold and unfeeling father, something she and Lydia had never known; they had had fairly uneventful childhoods for the times in which they lived.

Dee felt a smile crossing her lips, as she thought of her fallen companion, thinking back to the spirit walk she and Blair had taken yesterday. It had been a shock, seeing her companion's spirit guide, the red falcon. She had walked the nether world many times since her companion had been killed, and she had never seen her…though there had been that time in March, when she had helped drive the Manitou from her student. She had felt her presence then, but had chalked it up to Dana's resemblance to Lydia. But if she had been wrong, then Lydia was still with her, if only in spirit. First chance she got, she would walk the other world again and talk to her, ask her advice on what to do about Ellison.

But now her first priority was Blair. She was loathe to wake him, he needed the rest, but this new day would only bring a myriad of questions for them, and they had better be prepared. She knew Blair would not say anything to betray her, expose her immortality, but Ellison, he was another story. She wondered how far he would go for revenge. Her fingers traced idle patterns on Blair's chest as she pondered the problem.

Something tickling him woke Blair. Opening his eyes, he gazed up into the smiling face of his lover. Seeing he was awake, she leaned over and kissed him, her lips warm against his own. As they parted, for the second day in a row he mused upon this miracle, that such a wise, wonderful, beautiful woman would want him for her own. Her fingers continued moving across his chest, and he realized she was not subjecting him to aimless torture, she was writing something. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, unable to decipher her language of touch.

Giving him another smile, she said, "Telling you what I feel for you, in all the ways I know how." Her fingers moved again, and she whispered the words to him. "Te amo, te adoro, te quiero. I love you, I adore you, I want you…." Her voice trailed off as he kissed her, feeling his arms go around her, pulling her close, his hands instinctively knowing where she needed to be touched. With a low moan of pleasure, she gave herself over to him.

When they finally rolled out of bed, it was almost 11 am. They were both in her kitchen, she in her robe, and Blair in a pair of boxers, feeding each other breakfast, when there was a knock at the door. Blair went to get it.

He was quite surprised to find Captain Banks standing there, but not half as surprised as Simon was to find Blair bare-chested and barefoot answering the door. "Uh, Captain, what brings you here so early?" Blair stammered.

"Early for you, maybe, but I haven't been to bed." He entered the apartment, as Dee came out of the kitchen. Simon took in her scantily clad appearance, and thought, "This is going to be bad." Clearing his throat, he said, "The Coast Guard fished Evan Kendall's body out of the cove about 7 am this morning. Unfortunately, he was missing an important part of his anatomy." He paused for effect, glancing from her expressionless face to Blair's worried one. "His head."

Neither Dee nor Blair appeared shocked by this turn of events, and Simon realized they had both known this fact. Reaching inside his coat pocket, he produced a piece of paper. "Diandra Pallas, I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Evan Kendall."

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