Megan turned on the water, then finished removing her ruined clothes. About all that was salvageable were her shoes. I really liked that skirt, she thought distractedly. Stepping into the shower, she let the water run over her, increasing the temperature until it was so hot she could barely stand it. She scrubbed until her skin turned pink from the abrasive action. In the back of her head, she realized what she was doing, that she was trying to symbolically wash away what had happened to her but she couldn't stop. She washed her hair three times, and still thought she saw blood running down the drain when she rinsed. No amount of soap was going to make her forget her feeling of complete helplessness, and the pain her attackers had gleefully inflicted. She saw the knife wielder's eyes, looking at her defeated, bleeding body with perverted desire. Squeezing her eyes shut made his face go away, but she still felt his hands on her, snaking up her thighs, pawing her under her skirt. With a low, keening cry, she began to shake, freezing cold despite the scalding water, sobs erupting from her aching throat.

The shower door opened, and a blast of cool air hit her super-heated skin just before the water was turned off and a towel was thrown around her. She felt herself being lifted bodily out of the shower, and set on the floor, an arm going around her waist to support her, while another hand dried her off. She leaned on Dee, letting her tears flow, feeling a sense of security in the other woman's grasp.

Once she was dry, Dee wrapped the towel around her, tucking the end in so it would stay up, and seated her on the closed toilet lid. Kneeling beside her, Dee pulled Megan into her embrace, holding her until she ran out of tears, murmuring things in a language the Aussie didn't understand. When she finally forced herself to leave the haven of Dee's arms, Dee wiped her face tenderly, then stood, picking up a hairbrush from the counter.

As she began to gently untangle Megan's dark curls, she said, "Feeling any better?"

Swallowing with difficulty, Megan managed a shaky, "Yeah. Guess I kind of lost it there."

"What happened to you tonight is nothing to be ashamed of. I know you want to blame yourself, that you're telling yourself it shouldn't have happened to you because you're a cop; you should know how to defend yourself." She tilted Megan's chin up so she was looking her in the eyes. "This was not your fault. All the training, all the ability in the world wasn't going to stop those men from doing what they set out to do. If you had been able to fight back, perhaps you would have escaped, or perhaps they just would have killed you. You are never going to know that, though, and if you waste your time and emotion on second-guessing, on what ifs, you are going to drive yourself insane." Her fingers brushed away a stray tear. "I know that sounds harsh, Megan, but I have been there, and your life is too precious to throw away chasing after something that can't be changed. I'm not saying you can't cry and scream and hurt because of what happened. I'm saying don't get bogged down in the might have beens."

Releasing her chin, Dee went back to brushing her hair, and Megan could feel her hands pulling it back off her face and twisting it into a braid. She closed her eyes, leaning slightly against the other woman's hip, letting the gentle motions of Dee's fingers sooth and relax her. Part of her wanted to run and scream and hide from the world, but the rest of her wanted to stay right here forever, in this woman's incredible presence. She felt so safe, so secure. She just knew Dee would let nothing bad happen to her as long as she was by her side.

Dee was just finishing when Megan gave a big yawn. "Pretty tired, huh?" she said.

Megan nodded, offering no resistance when Dee pulled the oversized sweatshirt over her head. It smelled like Dee, she realized, and that gave her a peaceful sense of security, not unlike the one she had felt as a child, when she hugged her stuffed koala to her chest at night. Helping her into the matching pants, Dee led her into the bedroom and tugged back the covers on the bed. "Come on, climb in," she said.

She did as she was told, leaning her aching head on the soft pillow, which also smelled of Dee she noted, and let the other woman settle the blankets over her. Another yawn escaped her, and she caught at Dee's hand as she turned to leave. "Don't," she said, her dark eyes meeting the older woman's light ones.

Dee sat down beside her, and Megan rolled onto her side, resting their joined hands in Dee's lap. With her free hand, Dee rubbed the smaller woman's back until her eyes closed, and her breathing slowed to the deep, even rhythm of sleep. She sat there with her for few more minutes, watching her sleep, listening to her heartbeat.

A knock on the outside door to the loft startled her, and she realized she'd been lightly zoning on the sound of the policewoman's heart. Shaking her head to clear it, she rose, exiting the bedroom, turning out the light and closing the door partway behind her. Crossing the living room, she opened the stairwell door, ushering Jim and Blair inside, but motioning for them to keep it down.

"Where is she?" Jim asked, tension evident in his voice.

Dee walked into the kitchen, and the two men followed her, depositing their coats on the couch. Dee began preparations for coffee as she said, "She's sleeping right now, which is probably the best thing for her at the moment."

"Is she okay?" Blair asked, and Dee took her first good look at him, noticing the tired lines of his face, and the pain in his eyes.

"Physically, yeah, she's going to be okay. Emotionally, it's going to take a while longer. She was hurt pretty badly, and I think she feels that somehow it was her fault, though I tried to reassure her otherwise."

"Was she raped?" Jim asked bluntly, dealing with the attack on his friend the only way he knew how, like a cop.

Dee shook her head. "No, I intervened before that happened. But they were headed in that direction, and she knows it. She already feels helpless enough; she doesn't need that nightmare too. Bastards!" she spit out. She got three mugs out of the cupboard, trying to control the rage she felt building.

She felt Blair's presence behind her, his proximity cool water on her fire. "Dee," he said quietly, "maybe if you just told us what happened from the beginning, we would have an idea of where to look for these guys."

She gave a short, mirthless laugh, and turned around, leaning against the counter. "That's the real kicker. She doesn't want anyone to know about this. There was no way I was going to promise her that, no way. This is my city and no one gets away with that shit if I can prevent it." She straightened, her eyes turning to blue flame, looking every bit the fierce warrior she was. The change was electrifying.

Blair took a step back, and Jim felt the hair on his arms stand up. He didn't know how she did that, but it was impressive. "Dee," he said, trying to get her to focus on the details, "we're all pissed about what happened. But you're the only one who was there. We need to know what you know. So can you start from the beginning? Where and when did this happen?"

She started to go for the coffeepot, but Blair beat her to it. As he poured the hot liquid into mugs, she told them everything she knew. "I was singing at Joe's tonight, and got done about midnight. I hung around for about 15-20 minutes, changed my clothes, chatted with Joe. I walked out to the parking lot, and I heard a noise coming from the alley, some guy saying 'Here's the message for your friends in Cascade', then I heard a knife going through flesh, and a muffled scream. When I got to the alley, I saw two guys beating up on a woman, they had her skirt up, and were talking about having fun. I made sure they had anything but," she said with a snarl.

"Can you ID them?" Jim asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, and just about anyone else can too. I left my mark on them. One of them, the guy who cut Megan up, he has a broken nose. The other one a broken right arm, just above the elbow." Blair handed her a mug, and she took a sip, noticing he had added milk and honey, just the way she liked it. "Thanks, Lobo," she said. He gave her a slight smile, and retreated to his position next to Jim.

"To make a long story short, I recognized Megan and when she refused to go to the hospital, I brought her here, cleaned her up and called you. I don't think she knew those guys in particular, but she knows what this is about. I don't think it was random."

"I don't either. Did you hear anything else, what this message they gave her was?" Ellison asked.

Dee chewed the inside of her lip. "I think the message was what they did to her, not anything they said. They cut her pretty badly, bad enough she would have lost a lot of mobility in her arm, and been scarred for life. They cut a cross into her chest. One line here," she said, running her forefinger from shoulder to shoulder, just above her breasts, "and one here." She drew her finger from just below her throat down between her breasts. "That mean anything to you?"

Blair's face had turned white at her description, and only Dee's quick reflexes caught the coffee cup as it slipped from his fingers. "I can see you know what I'm talking about," she said.

"Cristo," Blair whispered, his eyes wide and horrified.

Ellison put his hand on his guide's shoulder, and squeezed reassuringly. "It's okay, Chief."

Blair twisted out from under his patronizing grip. "No, it's not okay! I'm the one who got Megan involved in this! This is my fault!"

Dee stepped between the two men. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up a minute. I told you what I know, now it's your turn. Who's Cristo?"

Blair just shook his head, so Ellison answered for him. "Cristo is a drug dealer in Cascade. He's currently awaiting a grand jury hearing on whether or not he should be bound over for trial. Blair and Megan were instrumental in gathering the information that lead to his downfall. They are the prosecution's star witnesses. Cristo is a real piece of work; crawled to the top of the heap in Cascade by basically eliminating the competition. He has a real ego too, he'd have to, with a name like Jesus Cristo." At Dee's eye roll, he added, "That's his real name, and the cross is his sign. Most of the people we find carved up the way Megan was are dead."

Dee pondered that information for a moment, then noticed Blair was abnormally silent. "Lobo?" she asked. "What is it?"

He turned his worried gaze on her. "Megan," he said, "is she really going to be okay? You said she was hurt really badly…"

"She's going to be fine, Lobo. I healed her. She won't even have a scar. Probably was a good thing she didn't want to go to the hospital; the doctors would have done the best they could, but she wouldn't have fully recovered. So, you don't need to worry about any physical scars."

"Emotional ones are another story, huh?" he said, staring at the floor. "This is all my fault…"

"Sandburg…" Jim began, but Dee's hand on his arm silenced him.

"Lobo," she said quietly, "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Megan. You can't blame yourself for this. You are not responsible for those men's actions. They made a choice to do what they did to her, a choice you had no part in. Megan is going to need you to be her support, her strength for a while. You can't do that for her if you persist in blaming yourself for this. You're going to dig yourself into a hole of self-pity, and you're going to take her with you. I don't think you want that, do you?"

Blair shook his head. "No, no, I want to help Megan."

Dee took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Okay, then, that's settled." She turned toward Jim. "So, Detective, what do you think? I'm of the opinion that this was Cristo's way of warning Megan not to testify, and it was supposed to be a warning to you too, Blair."

Jim nodded in agreement. "It makes sense to me, but what I don't understand is why he just didn't have her killed. He's showed no reticence about it before."

Dee was about to reply, when Blair spoke up. "He liked her," he said quietly. "He liked that she had brains, and wouldn't fawn all over him like the rest of the women who worked for him."

This tale was getting more interesting by the minute. When things had cooled off a little, she would have to get the whole story out of them, but right now she had more immediate concerns. "I have a feeling that after tonight, Cristo won't be reticent anymore." She locked gazes with Ellison. "I think Blair and Megan are in a hell of a lot of danger."

At her words, Blair leaned over the sink, and was sick. "Sorry," Ellison said in way of apology, as he rubbed the stricken guide's back. "It's been a long two months. This whole thing started right after you moved away. You okay there, Chief?"

"Yeah," Blair croaked, then his stomach heaved again.

Dee stood there, watching the interaction between the two men, forcing herself to remain where she was, to not go to her companion, to not take away his pain. She felt her own stomach knot in sympathy with his, and was surprised at how little things had really changed between them. The bond was still there, a blue white cord she could see with her "other" sight, stretching from herself to Blair, twining with the thick gold band that connected him to Ellison as the two lines crossed. She wondered if the sentinel knew just how closely the three of them were joined. Hearing Blair starting to hyperventilate, she held back no longer, joining Jim at the anthropologist's side, placing her hand on the back of his neck. "Take a deep breath, Lobo, and hold it. Now let it out to the count of ten. And another deep breath. That's it," she encouraged him.

Blair felt his racing heart begin to slow, and his stomach quit churning. After a few more minutes of deep breathing, he felt better, not terrific, but not so out of control. Turning around, he looked up into two pairs of concerned blue eyes. "Chief?" Jim asked.

"I'm okay," he replied, and for the first time in two months, he did feel okay. He had two sentinels to watch out for him now, and the thought that there was safety in numbers gave him comfort. If anyone could keep Megan and him alive, it would be the black jaguar and the wild mare. That thought gave him an idea, one he was sure Jim would hate, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew this was the solution. And Dee had been the one who was always telling him to trust his intuition. "Jim, Dee," he began, "I have a crazy idea…"
 

****
"No, Sandburg, absolutely not," Jim Ellison said, putting his coffee mug down on the table.

Dee leaned back in her chair and looked at the two men facing off over her kitchen table.  Blair was leaning forward in his seat, his finger tracing an imaginary line on the wood surface.  Ellison sat with his arms folded across his chest, his jaw clenched.

"Jim, you're not seeing the beauty of this.  Megan and I would be protected at all times by a sentinel, a human early warning system.  It's the perfect way to keep us safe," Blair said.

Ellison shook his head.  "No, Chief, I'm going to ask Simon to put you and Megan in a safe house."

Blair snorted.  "Yeah, right, just make us sitting ducks.  You've seen what Cristo's done to other people who've betrayed him.  Four walls and an army of cops didn't stop him.  Face it man, there's someone on the Cascade PD who's on his payroll.  Probably more than one!"

Jim leaned forward, nose to nose with the anthropologist.  Before he could reply to Blair's accusations, Dee's hand moved to rest lightly on his wrist.  "Is this true, Detective?"

He glanced down at her hand before he answered her, but made no move to shrug it off.  "Probably," he admitted, "though we haven't been able to prove it.  But Blair's idea is insane, a safe house, even with its possible drawbacks, is the best way to go."

Dee shook her head.  "I think Blair's idea is a good one, in fact, I was going to suggest something similar myself."

"You would," Jim muttered.

With a resigned sigh, Dee began to lecture.  "You were in the army, Ellison, so you tell me, which is harder to hit, a stationary, or a moving target?"

"Moving" He didn't like where she was going with this.

"And which is more mobile, a small guerilla force, or a an entire platoon?"

"Guerillas."

"And would you say that two cops, a martial arts trained anthropologist, and an Immortal Amazon warrior would make a pretty deadly guerilla force?  Oh, and did I mention that two members of the party have heightened senses, so they can detect any threat long before a normal human is aware of it?"

Blair shot Jim a self-satisfied grin.  "She's got you, Jim, and you know it."

"All right, but YOU get to convince Simon this is the best idea."  Ellison shot back at Blair.  He could give as good as he got.

Dee pulled the pad of paper Blair had been scribbling his ideas on over.  "So what do we have?"

Blair ticked the items off on his fingers.  "You move back into the apartment in Cascade, so that we can watch out for each other.  Megan moves in with you."

"I what?" said an irritated Aussie accent.  Megan walked into the kitchen, shooting a glare at Dee.  "I asked you not to get anyone else involved in this.  Nice to know you can keep your word."

Dee rose to her feet, and approached the policewoman.  "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Betrayed," Megan shot back, then instantly regretted it as hurt flashed across Dee's face.

"Megan," Blair said, coming to Dee's defense, "that was uncalled for."

His angry tone surprised even him.  She stared at him for a moment,  then sat down in the chair Dee had vacated.

"Connor," Jim said, trying to sooth any ruffled feathers, "what Sandburg meant to say was if the situation were reversed, and he was the one in trouble, he'd want your help.  We're not going to force you into anything, but this doesn't just concern you.  You know Cristo did this, and you know you're not the only one in danger, Chief is too.  All we want to do is make sure the both of you are safe.  I know that's what I want.  Diandra?"

"Lobo's and your safety is my only concern, Megan, and if you don't like it, tough," the Immortal said.  "Now, I asked you a question, how are you feeling?"

Megan swallowed, and looked down at her hands.  "My head hurts," she finally said.

Dee moved to get an ice pack for her, and Blair began filling her in on their plans.  When she returned with it, he was saying, "So you see, with you living across the hall from us with Dee, we can keep an eye on each other.  And when you're at the station, you'll be partnered with Jim, and I'll be with Dee when I'm on campus.  So we'll never be," He
realized that Megan didn't know Dee was a sentinel, and Jim didn't know Megan knew about him.  "Uh, never be without protection."  He looked up at Dee questioningly; it was her decision to make.

Walking over to Megan, she handed her the plastic bag of ice wrapped in a towel.  "I'm like Jim," she said simply.  Both Megan and Ellison stared at her.  Dee shrugged.  "It's better if it's out in the open.  We're going to have to trust each other implicitly in order to do this, and so we need to put all our cards on the table." Or at least the ones that are necessary, she thought.  The immortality card didn't need to be played yet.

The Aussie held the ice pack to her temple, and said, "You're a Sentinel."  Dee nodded  "But that still doesn't make you a bodyguard.  You're a civilian."  She looked at Jim.  "We shouldn't be letting her get involved in this; Captain Banks will have our hides if she gets hurt."

Blair started it with a small giggle that quickly turned into raucous laughter.  Jim stared at him for a moment, then joined in until tears rolled down his face.

"Connor," he finally managed, "you've never seen her in action.  If Cristo knew she was coming after him, he'd be on a plane right now, heading out of the country."

"You know, that's an idea, Ellison.  Are you sure you just don't want me to handle this for you?  Save us and the taxpayers a hell of a lot of trouble."  She gave him a feral grin.

Jim felt a shiver run down his spine at her words.  He had almost forgotten just what she was capable of.  "Um, no thanks, Diandra.  Let's try it by the book first."

Dee glanced at the clock.  It was approaching five am.  "Can we save the rest of it for tomorrow?  I don't know about you guys, but I need to get some rest.  Megan and I will take my room, Lobo, you and Jim can crash in the spare room.  You know where the blankets and towels are, right?"  At Blair's nod, she told them goodnight, and escorted Megan back to bed.

****

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Blair sat down at the table in the break room by Major Crimes.  After outlining his idea for protecting himself and Megan to Captain Banks, he had been laughed out of the office by the other man.  Dee and Jim were in there now, trying to convince Simon that he wasn't crazy.  He been pissed when he'd stormed out of the bullpen, but now he was just resigned to his fate as the comic relief of the police department.  He slumped in the chair, and wondered why Jim and Simon, and the rest of the guys couldn't look any further than the surface.  He knew they all cared about him, but he felt it was the way you cared about the team mascot.  He knew he did a good job for the PD.  Sure, he'd made mistakes, but then so had every cop on the force, and many times he'd been the one to come through with a lead or a theory that helped them catch the bad guys.  In fact, it had been his friendship with one of Cristo's subordinates that had
gotten him into this situation to begin with.  Hell, if it hadn't been for him, and Megan, they would still be trying to catch him at
something.

"Why couldn't Jim and Simon be more like Dee?" he wondered.  Sometimes he felt she knew him better than his Sentinel did, knew what made him tick, knew how much he had to offer if only someone would take him seriously.  He felt a smile tug at his lips, and he gave into it.  She had always believed in him, as a person, as a fighter, and as a Guide.  She'd seen things inside him he hadn't known were there.  Under her tutelage he had become what he considered a true Guide to his Sentinel, combining what he'd already figured out on his own with the physical abilities of a warrior and the talents of a Shaman. All of those accomplishments meant nothing to Simon and the rest of the PD, because he didn't carry a badge or wear a sidearm.  He felt the smile fading.

"Why the long face, Sandy?" Megan asked as she entered the break room.

Walking over to the vending machine, she dropped in some change and punched the button for a soda.  She wore her injuries like a medal of honor, refusing to cover them up with makeup, wanting the whole department to see Cristo for the scum he was.  That, Blair thought, must have been Dee's influence.  It certainly wasn't Jim's.  Last time he'd been beaten up, Jim told him to put on a pair of sunglasses, so he "wouldn't scare anyone."  The case of the murdering computer hackers had been another example of his instincts, his theories being ignored by the detective.

Realizing he hadn't answered her question, he said, "Just thinking.  I'm just so tired of having my ideas shot down out of hand."

Megan sat down across from him.  "Jim and Dee are still in there talking to him, Sandy.  I'm sure they'll work something out."

Blair laughed half-heartedly.  "Yeah, right.  I'll bet Jim's siding with Simon right now, and we'll end up dead by tomorrow morning in some supposedly safe house."

"I wouldn't count Dee out, she seems pretty persuasive to me.  She managed to talk Ellison into your idea."

Blair brightened considerably.  "Yeah, she did.  She's good at that."

Megan took a sip of her drink, then leaned towards him.  "So, Sandy, tell me about Dee.  Is she easy to live with?  I mean, I haven't had a roommate since I was at university."

Blair grinned.  "She is if you don't like to sleep in."  He remembered the time they had spent together over the summer, rising at 5 am to run before the day got too hot, the hours spent in the gym as she taught him how to defend himself, the lunches shared on their bench on campus.  He had been falling in love with her then, he realized, and it had all come together the evening they had spent flirting and dancing at Joe's.  He remembered the first time he'd kissed her, out on the dance floor,
in their own little world.  The love they'd made later that night had been both tender and ferocious, each of them finding what they had been searching for for so long in each other's arms.

"Sandy?  You still there?" Megan asked.

Blair looked at her, but didn't really see her.  All he could see was Diandra telling him she had to leave.  "I . . . um, I have to. . . uh, later, Megan," he stuttered.  Getting to his feet, he left the break room, forcing himself not to run.  Ducking into the men's room, he closeted himself in a stall, and gave in to the pain.  Until this moment, he'd thought he could do this, he thought he could work with Dee and be just friends.  After all he'd gotten along just fine these past two months without her.  "Who are you kidding, Blair?" he said under his breath.  "You've been a mess."  And now what was he going to do?  At this moment, all he wanted was to lose himself in her arms, and make the whole ugly world go away.

****

"How many times do I have to tell the two of you no?" Simon said, biting the end of his cigar in frustration.  "I'm not going to risk Sandburg and Connor's lives just because you want to play head games with Cristo."

"Sir," Jim said, "right now Cristo is out on bail, and he is so sure he's going to get out of the drug charges that he isn't even making an attempt to flee.  He's laughing at us Captain, thumbing his nose at the PD."

"If we can catch some of his men making a try on either Blair or Megan, we can get him on attempted murder charges," Dee argued.  "Get him behind bars and then really put the moves on his operation, shut them down completely."

"What's with this we stuff, Dr. Pallas?  You're not a police officer; hell you're a history teacher.  Why are you sticking your neck out?"

Dee drew herself up to her full height, and crossed her arms over her chest.  "Because Blair and Megan are my friends.  And if that's not enough for you, I am Seacouver's Champion.  Cristo brought his evil to my territory when his men attacked Megan.  I am honor-bound to defend her, and Blair."  She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion at an overwhelming rush of emotion.  Glancing at Ellison, she saw he was experiencing the same thing.

"Sandburg?" he said, meeting her gaze.  She nodded, and as one, they headed for the door, leaving Simon shaking his head in frustration.

Sentinels, he thought.  Way more trouble than they're worth.

****

The sentinel and champion easily followed the tangled trail of Blair's distress, pushing open the door of the men's room barely a minute after they'd left Banks' office, their simultaneous questions of "Lobo?" and "Chief?" echoing in the empty room.

Blair came out of his hiding place, his red-rimmed eyes flicking quickly from Dee to Jim.  "What?  What did I do?" he asked.

"Nothing, Chief," Ellison said, "we were just worried about you."

Staring at his partner, he asked, "Why?"

"You were. . . are upset.  We both felt it," Dee answered him.

"Both of you?"  This was something new.  Diandra had felt his pain before, and come running, the night Jim had gone off on him at the hospital, but for Jim to sense what he was feeling. Wow.  What had triggered that?

Jim's voice interrupted his theorizing.  "Are you okay, Chief?"

"I . . . um . . ." Shit, there was no lying to them; they probably knew better than he did what was going on.  "I need to talk to Dee, Jim.  Alone if you don't mind."

"Okay, Sandburg," Ellison replied and left the room.

Dee raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say a word.  "Can we go somewhere other than the john?" he asked.  Nodding, she held the door for him as they exited.

A couple minutes later, they were seated on the steps in the stairwell, it being the closest and most private place Blair could think of in a hurry.  She sat down next to him, her hand closing over his where it rested on his knee.  "What's going on, Lobo?" she asked softly, though she had a pretty good idea what was bothering him, since it was the same thing troubling her.

Giving her a quick glance, he looked down at his feet.  "I don't know if I can do this, Dee.  Not the cop stuff, I'm used to being in danger . . . god that sounds awful doesn't it?"  He sighed.  "I don't know if I can do the 'us' thing.  I thought, I thought I was fine, you know?  You left and I hurt for awhile, and then I got caught up in this case, and kind of pushed everything I feel for you aside.  But I can't hide from those feelings anymore."  He looked up at her, his eyes glistening.  "I still love you.  I thought it would fade, thought it would go away, but sitting here with you right now, I . . . I just want you to hold me and not ever let go.  Stupid, I know."

"No," she replied, "No, it's not stupid at all.  Ever since last night, since the moment I knew I had to call you, I've been having the same feelings.  This is not some infatuation, some crush, Lobo.  This is the real thing." She ran the back of her fingers lightly over his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, his eyes closing in bliss.  "Nothing's changed for me either, just the thought of being in the same room with you makes me high.  But we can't allow ourselves to give into those feelings now; I don't know if we ever can.  And yes, I know that hurts like hell, but we have Jim to think about.  I will not come between the two of you."

Blair ran a hand over his face wearily.  "Jim's better than he was.  I don't sense the hostility towards you that was there before.  He's more at ease around you, and is agreeing to work with you, instead of against you.  He never would have done that two months ago.  Why do you suppose that is?"

Dee was silent for a moment, thinking the situation over.  "It may have something to do with the fact that I'm in Seacouver, that I've claimed my territory, and right now it doesn't conflict with his.  I also haven't marked you in nearly three months.  He knows you're his, there's not that uncertainty there was before.  That may change once I move back into the loft next to yours, and I spend more time with you."

He refused to give up hope.  "But if things don't change, if Jim is okay working with you, once this stuff with Cristo is all over, can we . . . could we give us another try?  I mean look at us," he said, gesturing to their positions on the step.  "We started out two feet apart, and now smoke couldn't get between us."

Dee realized he was right.  They had gravitated toward each other, so close they were touching from their shoulders all the way down to their feet, and it still wasn't close enough.  She wanted him under her skin; she wanted him to be a part of her.  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then said, "I don't know, Lobo, I don't know.  I want us to be just as much as you do, but I don't know if that can ever happen.  I still don't have a companion, you know, and Jim may interpret any
overture on my part towards you as my trying to take you away from him again."

"So you're saying no," Blair said, the pain in his blue eyes intensifying, if that were possible.

Goddess she wanted to hold him, needed to hold him.  "I'm just saying I don't have any answers, Blair.  This is killing me just as much as it's killing you.  I . . . last night, before I rescued Megan, Joe was telling me how sad I seemed, a big change from the person I was the last time he saw me with you.  And he was right, I was unhappy, I am unhappy.  I even caught myself thinking that maybe 2,800 years is enough . . ."

"No," he said in a stunned whisper, "no, god, Dee, no . . ."  He gave into the desire to put his arms around her, to comfort her, and be comforted.  She leaned into his embrace, hugging him so tightly he had trouble breathing, but he didn't care.  It had been bad for him, he realized, but not so difficult that he wished he was dead.  Why was it so much worse for her?  The thought struck him that he had at least had Jim, another person, another connection, a support system for him to turn to, and it had brought them closer together, healing the tensions his relationship with Dee had caused.  But Dee had no one else, no companion, no soulmate to ease the pain of her broken heart.  This was his fault.  "I'm sorry, Dee, I'm sorry.  I should have fought harder to make Jim understand toÖI don't know, I just should have done more, should have kept in closer touch . . ."

"Hey, hey, it's not your fault, Lobo.  Shit happens, even to something as wonderful and beautiful as what I feel for you.  Maybe it's just not my lot in life to be blissfully happy and completely fulfilled.  Maybe the fates have more important things for me planned."

Blair's hand cupped her cheek, and he gazed into her tear-filled eyes.  "What in the world can possibly be more important than love?"  At his words, her tears spilled over, and she sobbed silently against his shoulder, trying to stop, trying to pull herself together, and failing.

He held her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, letting her cry.  He didn't know what else to do.  He wanted to promise her that things would be okay, that they would be together forever, but with everything that was going on around them, he didn't even know if he would be alive tomorrow, let alone if they could make things work between them.  That uncertainty was what convinced him.  Lifting her head from his shoulder, Blair kissed her, his lips melting into hers, promising her that no matter what happened, he would always love her.

When they finally came up for air, she said, "You always know just what I need.  You are my angel."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he wiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks.  "You are the angel, Dee,  the strong, avenging kind with the flaming sword.  I'm lucky to be the wind beneath your wings."

She kissed him then, her mouth soft and tender against his, her hands caressing his face.  "We will get through this," she promised him when they parted, "and we will find a way to make this work, I swear it."

He nodded in response, once again putting his trust in her.  "Come on," she said, taking his hand and pulling him up with her, "let me go splash some water on my face, and we'll tell Captain Banks where he can shove his bloody safe house."

Blair followed her back up the stairs, his spirits buoyed by the return of the Dee he knew, the one who took names and kicked butt.  There would be no stopping the four of them now.

****

After much argument, Captain Banks had finally relented, and allowed the two Sentinels to handle it their way.  He hadn't liked it much, but he would rather be kept abreast of their plans, than being shut out altogether.

"So where to now?" Megan asked, as the four of them exited police headquarters.

"Dee will take you to your place first, so you can pick up some things, then we'll meet back at the loft," Jim said, and Dee nodded in agreement.

They started down the steps toward the cars, lulled into a little bit of false security, since they were in the Cascade PD parking garage.  Dee caught the small noise before Ellison did, perhaps because he was used to the sound of a safety being flipped off.  "DOWN!" she yelled, just as bullets sprayed the area where they were standing.

To Be Continued. . . .

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