Dee shoved Megan to the ground, hoping to god Ellison had done the same with Blair. "Stay down," she growled in the other woman's ear, then she was on her feet, vaulting over the trunk of the car they'd ducked behind, heading for the gunman. Following the sound of running feet, she chased him out of the garage and down the access alley, too far away to stop him as he dove into a waiting BMW. The car took off with a squeal of tires, heading straight for her.

There was nowhere to go but up. Three long strides, a leap, and she was on the hood, watching the shocked expressions on the perps' faces as she continued over the roof, tucking into a somersault, and landing on her feet behind the speeding vehicle. A flick of her wrist, and her knife was in her grasp; another snap of her hand and it buried itself to the hilt in the passenger side rear tire.

She heard Ellison fire off a shot behind her, the bullet whistling past her ear to puncture the other rear tire. The BMW fishtailed around the corner, and rolled. "Jesus, Pallas!" Jim exclaimed as he ran up to her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, and followed him to the street. Several other cops were already at the scene, but the gunman and his driver had abandoned the car and disappeared. She stood there, surveying the chaos for a moment, watching as Ellison went to work, then she turned back toward the station, trusting that the sentinel wouldn't have followed her if Megan or Blair had been injured.

Blair met her just inside the front doors, his face worried. "You okay?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Lobo. Where's Megan?" She noticed he was staring at her left shoulder. "What? I get something on me?" She brushed at her coat, and her hand came away sticky and red. "Shit, I didn't even feel it. Does it show much?"

He nodded, then took his scarf off and placed it around her neck, draping the end of it over the bloodstain. "That ought to get past everything but a really close look. Megan's still out back, directing the team out there." At Dee's irritated look, he said, "It's okay, there's a dozen other cops with her; she's perfectly safe."

"I'll feel better once we're at the loft and have time to go over some ground rules, and make some plans." She followed Blair back through the station and out to the garage once again. She watched the team work for a while, noticing with disgust that her Cherokee wasn't going anywhere, at least not until forensics finished digging the bullets out of it. With a sigh, she sat down on the bumper to wait.

"This yours?" Ellison asked as he came to stand beside her. He handed Dee her throwing knife.

"Yes," she said, glancing up at the bemused expression on his face. "Don't make fun of my weapons, Detective. I was just as accurate as you were with your gun."

"I wasn't laughing at you. I was just wondering how many other goodies you have stashed in that coat of yours."

"Just be glad you didn't make me walk through the metal detector when I entered the building," she replied with a grin.

"I'm curious. Where did you learn that little trick you did in the alley?"

"Hmm, jumping over the car? A very long time ago, I used to vault. Not the gymnastics kind, but the horse kind, like trick riders you see in the circus. I just thought of the car as a great big horse, and up I went."

Jim shook his head. He imagined if he got her started, she would have more stories than Sandburg would.

"So what now?" she asked, for once leaving the decision up to him.

"You take Megan and Blair back to the loft, and get settled. I'll be along as soon as this is wrapped up."

Dee got to her feet and waved a hand at her Jeep. "Any suggestions as to how we'll get there?"

Ellison made a face, but dug in his pocket and tossed her the keys to the Ford. "Don't scratch it," he warned.

She rolled her eyes in reply. "You know we're going to have to start being a little more aggressive, don't you? Act instead of react?"

The detective nodded. "Leave that to the Captain and I. We know which rocks to turn over. We will trace this back to Cristo, and then he'll be cooling his heels in jail while awaiting the grand jury."

"My offer still stands, you know, to make this all go away." Sliding her hand inside her coat, she adjusted the hilt of her katana, a motion not lost on the sentinel.

"I thought you were one of the good guys," he said softly, the thought of a rogue Immortal with her talents running loose in Cascade making him very nervous.

"I am, Ellison, I am. But Blair is the closest thing I have to a companion, and that protection instinct has a way of bulldozing over anything else. I'll try and keep a lid on it, but I won't make you any promises, not as long as he is in danger." Her flashing eyes dared him to push the issue.

Knowing that he would kill to protect Blair also, even if he might hesitate a fraction of a second longer than she would, Ellison dropped the subject, but not before saying, "Just don't let Sandburg see you like this. I'm afraid it would knock you right off that pedestal he has you on." With a nod, Dee left to gather up her charges.

****

Megan waited patiently in the hallway, her arms loaded with a hastily packed duffle bag and two sacks of groceries. Blair stood behind her, similarly weighted down, both of them waiting for Diandra to find her keys. Finally, with a disgusted shrug, she gave up. "Must have lost them in the alley. You've got yours, don't you, Lobo?"

Nodding, he handed her his bags and produced a key ring from his pocket, fitting a key into the lock and swiftly opening the door to Diandra's old loft. Megan turned that tidbit of information over in her mind. "Sandy has a key to her place?" She'd taken a wild guess that they were lovers when she'd come to back up Captain Banks' arrest of Diandra, and walked in to find her dressed in a skimpy robe, and Sandy in his underwear. But Dee had moved to Seacouver right after that, and she'd assumed that their fling (she could hardly call it anything else, knowing Sandy's attention span) was over. When she had a moment alone with him, she would ask, she decided. No sense making a fool of herself if Dee's affections were already taken.

She entered the apartment, noting it was still fairly well furnished for a place Dee had vacated. Seeing her expression, Dee said, "The place in Seacouver belongs to my friend, MacLeod, and he had it already furnished. I just ended up leaving most of my big stuff here, since I crash here whenever I'm at the university late." Dee set her bags down on the kitchen counter. "I'm going to go take a shower. Can you put stuff away and show Megan around, Lobo?"

Blair nodded in response and started to set groceries on the counter. Megan handed him things when he asked for them, and watched him stow them away efficiently. If one could judge the seriousness of a relationship by how well a man knew a woman's kitchen, she guessed Dee and Sandy were an old married couple. Leaning on the breakfast bar, she propped her chin on her hand. "So, Sandy, you never really answered my question from before; what's Dee like as a roommate?"

He seemed a little startled, dropping an unopened package of spaghetti on the floor, but recovered well, with none of the weirdness he'd gone through before. "She's okay, if you're into working out, meditating and fencing."

"Fencing? I haven't fenced since university in Sydney."

"Good, see, you have something in common already." Blair put a large pot of water on the stove, and Megan guessed he'd decided on pasta for dinner. "Come on, I'll show you around. This is the kitchen, the living room," he waved a hand at the sofa and empty entertainment center behind her. "Laundry room and half bath." He indicated a door off the kitchen.

She followed as he headed toward the large open space she glimpsed through the openings in the living room bookcase. "Workout studio." Most of the equipment was still there, since it duplicated many of the items at the dojo, though most of her swords were gone.

Megan wandered around the gym, taking in the weight equipment, punching bags and workout mats. "Quite the fitness fanatic, I'd say."

"She has to be," Blair said, then looked like he hadn't meant to voice that out loud. "To keep in such great shape, I mean."

Megan filed his slip away under curious things about Dee, and realized the list was getting rather long. She admired one of the epees hanging on the wall. "Do you fence, Sandy?"

Blair shook his head vehemently. "No, not me. I asked Dee not to teach me."

Megan turned around to face him, a little puzzled. "Why not? You two seem so close, I thought you might share an interest."

"I'm just not into fighting with sharp, pointed objects. She taught me to kick box, though, and I'm pretty good with a staff."

"Finally got tired of being thumped, eh? I don't blame you," she said, her fingers unconsciously tracing the bruise on her cheek.

"I'm sure if you ask Dee, she would work with you, help you get your confidence back."

"I don't know," Megan sighed. "I'm still pretty shook up about the whole thing, and Dee, well she kind of scares me a little," she said, remembering being mysteriously healed by her.

Blair headed back to the kitchen to check his water. "Dee would never hurt you, Megan. There's no reason to be scared of her."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, as he began to slice tomatoes.

He shook his head. "Just talk to me. I need to keep busy, keep my mind off this afternoon."

Megan sat down at the breakfast bar again. "Okay, so I'll keep being nosy. Let me know when I've crossed a line." She gave him a grin, and he smiled back at her through a curtain of hair.

He went back to slicing produce, pushing his chestnut locks out of his eyes a couple times before giving up and digging in his pocket for a hair tie. "Oh, Sandy, that's gorgeous," she exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the silver wolf's head clasp. He handed it to her, letting her inspect the intricate carving, watching her turn the piece of jewelry so that the blue stones for the wolf's eyes glowed in the light.

She handed it back to him, as he said, "Dee gave it to me, when she…left." A fleeting expression of intense sadness crossed his face, then he pulled his hair back, fastening it into a ponytail with the clasp. He went back to his chopping, after dumping the package of spaghetti into the now boiling water.

"Sandy, if talking about Dee is going to make you upset…"

"No, no, I'm fine, we’re fine, just some painful memories, that's all. Go ahead, ask away."

Megan racked her brain for something he would find interesting to talk about. "Okay, how about this, if Dee's a sentinel, like Jim, then how come she doesn't have a guide, someone like you, as a partner?"

Blair stirred the pasta, and Megan could swear she saw him tearing up. He turned his back to her for a moment, and she watched him rub at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Finally he answered her question. "Dee's guide is dead; she died a long time ago, and Dee repressed her senses, until she met me."

She struggled to digest that bit of news. Did that mean that Blair was kind of a surrogate guide for her? And was that why Jim had always seemed so irritable whenever her name had been mentioned? He had been acting really weird when they had been chasing Alex Barnes; did Diandra have the same kind of effect on him? She couldn't stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. "How is it that Jim can work with her without that attraction/hate thing, like he had with Barnes?"

Blair laughed lightly. "I asked her the same question. She said it was because he wasn't her type…" He bowed his head over the salad fixings again, trying to hide the crimson flush on his cheeks.

"Okaaaay," Megan thought. "That's more than I wanted to know." She changed the subject. "Why does she call you 'Lobo'?"

That put a smile on his face. "She saw my spirit guide when we first met. It's a wolf. She told me I reminded her of a wolf, fierce, protective, and playful and affectionate at the same time."

This was good, she had him talking, and his mind off whatever was bothering him. "Tell me about spirit guides," she said. "Tell me everything about being a guide. If I'm going to be working closely with Dee and Jim, I'll need to know how to do what you do, when you aren't there, right?"

Blair stared at her for a moment, wondering if he should. It would take some of the pressure off him, if she could help out. He didn't know what guiding two sentinels at the same time would be like, but he was sure it would be difficult. She might not even have the talent for it; he'd come to realize from the things that Dee had told him about companions, that not just the champions were genetically different. "Okay," he said, "but you have to swear to keep this between the four of us. And if you have any questions, ask Dee, or me okay? Jim still has a hard time with this metaphysical stuff."

Leaning closer, Megan crossed her heart with her forefinger. "I swear it won't leave this room."

Confident she would keep her word, Blair started to teach. "The most important thing a guide or companion has to guard against is the zone- out…."

****** Yawning, Dee ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back behind her ears, then returned her attention to the term paper she was grading. A soft knock at the door, and a muffled "It's me," interrupted her. Rising, careful not to disturb the other occupant of the sofa, she went to answer it. Opening the door, she let Ellison in, putting a finger to her lips as a warning to keep it down.

"You're pretty late," she told him, motioning for him to follow her into the kitchen. "Have you ate? We saved you some spaghetti." At his head shake, she went to the fridge and began preparing a plate for him.

Ellison hung his coat up on the hook by the door, and entered the kitchen. "Catch," Dee said, tossing him a beer. He raised an eyebrow at her in surprise, but twisted the cap off anyway. "Lobo's idea, he threw a six-pack in the cart while we were shopping. How did it go with the investigation?"

"Not well," he replied. "We got some prints off the car, and know who the shooter was, but tying him to Cristo is going to be hard. And we have to get our hands on him first. With our luck, he's split town, along with his accomplice."

Dee ladled sauce over the plate of pasta, and stuck it in the microwave. "Doesn't this whole thing strike you as kind of odd? I mean the guys who worked Megan over were sent for a specific reason. This afternoon's shooting was just plain sloppy."

Ellison leaned against the counter, taking a long swallow of the beer, a little surprised he felt this comfortable around the Immortal. "I don't know. Could be when the attack didn't work, he just decided brute force was better than finesse. And sloppy would have been pretty effective, if you hadn't yelled when you did. Cristo would have gotten his way. So, thanks."

She smiled at him in response, the first, real, genuine smile he'd ever received from her, and Jim found himself a bit awestruck. If this was the way she looked at Sandburg, no wonder he had been in love.

"You're welcome," Dee said, just as the microwave dinged. Setting the meal on the table for him, she dug out some silverware, and tracked down the Parmesan cheese. "I've got to get back to grading papers, but just whisper if you need anything." She gave him a small grin. "Megan's asleep upstairs, and Lobo's out on the sofa. If you want seconds, there's still some left in the fridge."

Returning to the living room, she picked up the paper she had been working on, and tried to remember where she had left off. Twenty minutes later, Jim joined her, taking a seat in the armchair across from the sofa. He watched her for awhile, listening to the scratch of her pen on paper. Finally, he said, "How do you do it?"

Glancing up at him, she said, "Hmm, do what? Grade papers at a time like this? It has to be done."

Shaking his head, he pointed to the sleeping anthropologist curled up next to her, his head resting on a pillow in her lap. "He hasn't slept this deeply in weeks, not since this whole thing with Cristo started. One afternoon with you, and he's out like a light. What's your secret?"

Dee thought about that for a moment, then answered, "Trust." She ran her hand slowly down Blair's back. "Lobo trusts me completely, as I do him. He knows I won't let anything happen to him." She looked up at the sentinel, finding a sad, haunted look in his eyes. "Ellison…Jim," she said gently, "I know trust is very hard for you, but you have to find a way to trust Blair. You are the most important thing in the world to him. He would never hurt you, never betray you."

Jim looked away, unable to meet her steady gaze, her words highlighting his deepest fears. He was silent for a few minutes, but sensed she was waiting for him to answer her. Instead he asked a question. "How can you trust him so completely? You've known him for less than six months."

"How can you not trust him? You've known him for over three years." She bit back her next comment. He wouldn't learn anything if she started arguing with him. "Jim," she began again, "I will admit I have a bit of an advantage over you in the trusting department. I was born with the ability to see people's true motives, things they may not even know themselves. It has its advantages; I know who I can depend on, and who I can't. I can depend on Blair, as can you."

Ellison rolled his eyes. It wasn't enough that she was a sentinel, and immortal, now she was psychic too.

Dee tried again to get through to him. "The sentinel/guide relationship is more than just friendship. It's a spiritual bond between two people destined to be together, soulmates if you will. You can deny it all you want, but how else can you explain your relationship with Blair? He's not someone you would normally give the time of day to, Ellison, and here you are with him as your partner, your roommate for god's sake." Seeing he wasn't buying it, she tried another tact. "What would you say if I could show you that bond?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you let me show you what I see when I look at the two of you?" She reached her hand out to him. "Take my hand, and close your eyes." Intrigued, Jim did as he was told, feeling a small surge of energy as her hand closed around his. "Let yourself relax into a light trance state, squeeze my hand when you feel like you're there."

Closing his eyes, Jim took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly, relaxing his body as he exhaled. The more relaxed he became, the more energy he could feel flowing from her to him. He tightened his grip on her hand, and heard her tell him to open his eyes. The first thing he focused on was Sandburg. His guide slept on, undisturbed, but now there was a faint glow around him, a dully gleaming copper color. A thick band of pulsing gold energy stretched from Blair to himself, anchored firmly at both ends. Somehow this seemed right to him, as if he instinctively knew what their bond should look like. Tearing his eyes away from Blair, he looked at Dee, and was so stunned he almost let go of her hand.

Where Blair glowed, she burned. Her aura was a brilliant blinding blue, edging into violet. Its borders snapped and crackled, small tendrils snaking off into the darkness surrounding her. A blue-white vine of power linked her to his guide, and if he stared hard enough at it, he could see it wrapping around the link between himself and Blair, the blue mingling with the gold. "What in the hell?" he whispered.

"We are bound together, Jim, you, Blair and I. It's how we found you when Kendall had you prisoner. We used this connection to find you in the spirit world." She let him look a while longer, then said, "Close your eyes." He did as he was told, and he could feel the energy fading. When her grip on his hand disappeared, he opened his eyes.

"How did you do that?" he asked, still amazed by what he had seen, but wary that it might have been a trick.

"I let you see through my eyes, the same way Lobo and I saw through yours, when Kendall had you. The two of us are connected through Blair; if he wasn't here, and I hadn't been touching him, I couldn't have done it. He is a conduit between us." Dee looked down at him, her expression affectionate.

Ellison didn't know whether to believe her or not. He knew what he'd seen, and it had felt real, but he didn't have enough experience with that kind of thing to know for sure. As for when he had been held captive at the lighthouse, Blair had told him a tale about taking a walk with Dee in the spirit world, and finding the jaguar. He'd had visions himself, but never anything as detailed and as complicated as what Blair had described. Of course, he hadn't had a 2,800 year-old Immortal priestess with him either. As fascinating as the concept was, it made him uneasy. Blair was his guide, after all, and it seemed wrong for him to have a connection to anyone else. He said as much to Dee.

Shrugging her shoulders, Diandra said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ellison, but it can't be undone. I did what I thought was right at the time, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I can't go poking around in your mind or anything, if that's what you're afraid of. And I can't break the bond between you and Blair. Only death can do that. Believe me, you don't want to go through that."

Leaning back in his seat, Jim thought her words over. He still didn't trust her, not really, not as far as he himself was concerned, but he knew she would never hurt Blair. In that way, she was nothing like Alex Barnes. Focusing on her once again, he watched her work on her papers, balancing the stack on the arm of the sofa as she wrote, her left hand still resting on Blair's shoulder. As he regarded them, Blair's hand reached up and captured hers, tugging it down to rest against his chest, hugging it to him. With a little sigh of bliss, he burrowed closer to her, and slid back into a deep sleep. That innocent action bothered Jim tremendously, and he realized it wasn't the fact that Diandra was a sentinel, and Blair a guide that upset him. It was the fact that quite obviously, Blair was still in love with her, and she with him. Jealousy? Was that what he was feeling? Fearful of what he might find if he examined that emotion too closely, he slammed the door on it, and locked it away with everything else about himself he had trouble dealing with.

Getting to his feet, he shook his partner gently. "Come on, Chief, it's late. Let's get you across the hall and into bed." Dee shot him a look of puzzled irritation, but she made no move to stop him when he helped the still groggy anthropologist to his feet, and led him out the door.

Once they were gone, she locked up for the night, turning out the lights and heading up the stairs. Something had happened down there, something important, she felt, but she was damned if she could figure out what it was. "Oh well," she told herself with a yawn, as she changed her clothes, and slipped quietly into the bed with Megan, "it'll come out sooner or later. Nothing stays hidden forever."
 

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