Wind rushed past her face gloriously, and she snapped her wings once, then spread them wide, feeling the updraft catch under her feathers, lifting her higher. The sun was hot on her back, and with a scream of joy, she tucked her outstretched limbs in, diving toward the white capped waves below. Just before she plunged into the water, she fanned her wings out, stopping her downward motion, skimming inches above the surface, her strong talons stretching for the flash of silver scales just out of reach. Disappointment filled her briefly, as the meal slipped away, but it really didn't matter, on such a gorgeous day as this. Powerful wing strokes lifted her into the sky again, and she soared toward the coastline, content with her lot in life.

A keening cry split the air, and a falcon came into view below her, red wings shining golden in the sun. Curious, she followed the other raptor in a slow spiral toward the cliffs, wondering what fascinated the bird so. As she drew closer to the lush green plateau, she spotted what had interested the falcon. A black mare galloped exuberantly through the meadow, bucking, jumping and rearing, obviously having a wonderful time.

The red falcon buzzed the horse once, then alighted atop a giant pile of stones that some god had carelessly dropped in the middle of the broad, flat plain. She followed, her black and white wings flapping powerfully as her claws grasped the edge of a rock. Settling herself, she cocked her head to the side, admiring the sleek lines of the smaller bird, noticing with interest the sharp blue eyes that peered at her intently.

The falcon's image blurred, then solidified, and in its place perched a small woman, dressed in a green tunic, over which she wore some kind of leather armor. A bow and a quiver of arrows hung across her shoulders, and a sword was belted at her waist. Her long red hair was bound in a braid that reached the middle of her back, and a gold band encircled her head. She held out her gloved hand to her, her voice coaxing. "Come on, young one. You saw what I did, concentrate, and you can do it as well."

She blinked her dark eyes once, twice, then shook herself. When she stopped, she was no longer a beautiful black and white osprey, but a slim, russet haired woman wearing the red and green tartan of her clan. She looked down at herself in surprise, taking in the short, black wool jacket over a brilliant white, ruffled blouse, and the traditional great kilt, the excess length thrown over her shoulder and pinned in place with a large brooch. An elaborately decorated sporran hung around her waist, and she felt the weight of something pulling at the leather strap that ran diagonally across her chest. Turning her head to the side, she could just make out the hilt of a claymore protruding above her left shoulder.

Turning frightened eyes toward the other woman, she said, "Where am I? Better yet, who am I? And who are you?"

The smaller woman smiled at her reassuringly. "You are dreaming, young one. You have taken your first step toward becoming who you are destined to be, by crossing over to the spirit world. I am the Companion, and I will be your guide in this place. I will teach you some of what you need to know to take your place beside the Champion. The rest you must learn in the outside world." She gestured with her hand, and a great silver wolf leapt out of nowhere to sit upon the rock next to the frightened Aussie. He leaned against her, a friendly whine emitting from his throat, and then his wolfish tongue was bathing her face affectionately. "He is the Guide. Listen to what he says, watch what he does, for this is the way to learn from him."

The Companion turned her gaze back to the black mare, who was now rolling luxuriously in a patch of dirt. Climbing to her feet, she shook herself violently, raising a cloud of dust. With a kick of her heels, and a leap to the side, she was off again, racing through the tall grass. The wolf jumped from the rock and chased after her, growling and whining as they played together. Their dance grew more and more aggressive, until the mare swung her lowered head to the side, bowling the wolf over. The Aussie was alarmed for the wolf, and started to climb down from her perch when…

Megan woke to the sound of raised voices. It took her a moment to remember she was in Dee's loft instead of her own apartment. Rolling over in the empty bed, she propped herself up on her elbow, trying to see over the railing into the studio below, and failing. Crawling to the end of the bed, she sat up, and was just able to make out Dee and Sandy standing on a practice mat, both dressed in workout clothes. Dee had hold of Sandy's left hand, and was examining some kind of blue mark on his wrist, and while she wasn't exactly yelling, Megan could tell from her expression that she wasn't happy with him.

Getting out of bed, she grabbed her robe, noticing that it was only 6 am, for god's sake, and they were starting the morning out with an argument. Megan headed toward the stairs, determined to put a stop to it.

****

Dee opened the door before Blair had a chance to knock, having heard him leave 307 and head across the hall. "Good morning," she said, giving him a smile. Despite the stress she knew he had been under, he did look well rested, and his blue eyes were clear and alert.

"Are you sure it's morning?" he joked, "It's still dark out."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Smart ass. Are you ready for a workout?"

Nodding enthusiastically, he followed her into the studio. "Yeah, I really haven't sparred with anyone since you…moved. But I have been doing the katas you taught me, and working out with the bags and my staff. I shouldn't be too rusty."

Dee moved to the center of the floor, stretching. "I thought you were going to get Jim to work with you."

He copied her movements, stretching first his calves, then his hamstrings. "I was…but both of us kind of felt uncomfortable about it, and I didn't want to push. I don't think he really has the temperament for it. Patience is not his strong suit."

"No!" Dee said sarcastically, then sobered. "You really should try again, Lobo. It would be good for the two of you, help you work through some of the doubts Jim has."

Blair paused, bent over one leg, and looked at her. "What doubts?" he asked, his tone a little frightened.

She chewed her lip. Uh oh, me and my big mouth, she thought. "Um, well, Jim and I had a little talk last night, while you were asleep. You know he has some serious problems with trust, don't you?"

Straightening, he folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I know about them. What does that have to do with me?" Dee didn't say anything, letting him work it out on his own. His eyes widened, and he gave a startled gasp. "You mean he has problems trusting me? Come on, Dee, you're kidding, right? I mean, after all we've been through, of course he trusts me…doesn't he?" The pain in his eyes cut right through her.

"I'm sorry, Lobo," she said. "I think deep down inside, he does, he just has to second guess every move you make, analyze everything you do. He has a hard time just going with his gut when it comes to personal relationships. My guess is he's been burned plenty of times before."

Blair nodded. "He didn't have the most supportive family growing up, and he doesn't make friends very easily, not to mention his failed marriage. "

Dee went back to stretching. "That's why working out together would be good for you. It's something that you both like, and you're both good at, so neither one of you feels you're making a concession for the other. It teaches teamwork and trust, and if you can rely on each other in the gym, then you feel that much more confident outside it." She began to move through a slow kata, Blair mirroring her actions.

"I can see where you're coming from, but convincing Jim of that is going to take some doing."

Dee gave him a grin. "I have an idea that might work. We're in the midst of a situation where we all need to be at the top of our game. I'll invite him to work out with us, and he won't ever know I'm doing it for you."

They spent about twenty minutes limbering up, and while Dee pulled the workout mat into the center of the floor, Blair discarded his sweatshirt, warm enough now that anything more than his T-shirt and track pants was too much. Stepping onto opposite corners of the mat, they bowed to each other, then faced off. Blair threw the first punch, a left she at first blocked, then she grabbed a hold of his arm, turning his wrist up.

"Lobo, you want to explain this to me?" Her sensitive fingers traced the outline of the Watcher tattoo. "This is not recent," she said, one eyebrow lifted questioningly. "Joe is dead; he never said one word to me, and I've been at the bar at least once a week since I moved back to Seacouver."

For one brief, fleeting moment, Blair felt panic, then he told himself that this was Dee and she was a hell of a lot more understanding about these little miscommunication things than Jim was. "I, uh, I asked him not to tell you." Dee's other eyebrow raised. "It just didn't seem like there was any point to it. I mean, I…I made the decision to join the Watchers the day you told me you were leaving." He paused, looking at her hand still holding his wrist, and tried to breathe. "I'd been thinking about it for awhile, since that night Mulder and Scully were here. Joe talked to Mulder and me about it, and he made me an offer to join as a researcher. They really needed someone with my skills, my background and language capability, and in return I get a salary based on the amount of work I do, and unrestricted access to all the Watcher Chronicles and databases. It's worked out really well so far…except for the fact that I kind of did it to be closer to you, and then you left…" He looked back up at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "When you told me you were leaving, it was like everything stopped, and I couldn’t think, I couldn't focus, and I just forgot about it. Kind of hard to forget a brand new tattoo, but I did. I didn't remember until later that night, and then there was no point in telling you. So I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I'm telling you now, so please don't be mad at me," he finished, the last few sentences coming out in a jumbled rush.

"Oh, Lobo, I'm not mad at you, really I'm not. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into. Being a Watcher is not all fun and games as I'm sure Joe told you." And if he didn't, I'm gonna wring his neck, she thought.

Blair nodded, "He did, but he did say things were a lot better internally than they have been for a long time. And I'm really not dealing directly with anyone but him. He gives me what he needs worked on, and when I'm done, I turn it back in. Like I said, it's worked out pretty well, and…when we talk on the phone, he…he tells me what you've been up to." The tears spilled over then, and he couldn't stop them.

Dee pulled him into her arms, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I’m sorry. I never dreamed I was hurting you so badly. I thought if I just went away, it would make everything all right, and instead I hurt you." She took his face in her hands, wiping away his tears. "You know I would never, ever do that on purpose."

He nodded, and said "I know you wouldn't. God, I love you so much."

Leaning her forehead against his, she replied, "I love you too, Lobo." Pulling him to her, she kissed him fiercely, breaking it off only when she felt like she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. "Oh, Lobo, we have got to get a handle on this…goddess knows this is not the time or the place for this kind of insanity."

"I know, Dee, I know." He stepped back a little, looking into her eyes. "All we need is for Jim to go all territorial on me again. It would break whatever this fragile truce is between the two of you, and probably end up getting all of us killed."

Letting go of him, she wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could keep her away from him. "You're right, Blair," she said, then her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "but I want you so badly. I want to throw you down on this mat and fuck you 'til you scream."

Blair's eyes widened at her coarse language, but the picture she'd planted in his mind was doing interesting things to his body. He started to close the space between them, when a pleasantly accented voice behind him said, "I'd pay money to see that."

Megan's presence on the stairs was better than a cold shower. Both Blair and Dee flushed crimson, and he stammered something about making breakfast for Jim. Snatching up his sweatshirt, he beat a hasty retreat.

Dee stood her ground, embarrassed, but still dignified. Megan was impressed. Not too many people could carry off that combination of emotions. Finally, she said, "What would you like for breakfast, Megan?"

Dee headed for the kitchen, the Aussie trailing behind her. "Hmm, one of those muffins we bought yesterday sounds good. And coffee. I'm not used to getting up this early."

"Get used to it," Dee told her, "because I really need to work with Lobo, and you're gonna be our chaperone."

Megan could only stare at the other woman's back, wondering what in the world she'd gotten herself into by agreeing to Sandy's crazy plan. Right now, a nice, quiet safe house was looking better and better.

*****

Dee entered the loft, dropping her briefcase by the door and kicking off her shoes.  She slid out of her trenchcoat, and tossed it toward a chair, missing by a mile.  She didn't care.  The only thing she was interested in was making the pounding in her head go away.  Sinking down on the sofa, she lay back gingerly, throwing her arm over her eyes.  The headaches were getting worse, there was no doubt about it.

Goddess, they'd only been at it a week and already the strain was getting to her.  It was like being on campaign in enemy territory.  Her senses were constantly on the alert, processing more information in a few minutes than most people did in a day, and it was wearing on her. Normally, her companion would be there to help her, a natural release valve, but she had no such help, and even deep meditation techniques weren't working now, let alone she really didn't feel comfortable putting herself that far under in light of the circumstances.

Blair knew exactly what she was going through, but she had refused his offers of assistance.  In fact, right now he was across the hall, incredibly pissed at her for turning down his latest attempt to aid her.  Another wave of pain rolled through her head, and she blinked back tears.  Much as she wanted his help, his soothing, healing touch, she knew it would only deepen the ties between them, and she couldn't split his concentration that way.  Jim needed him just as much as she did, and he came first.

Concentrating on her breathing, Dee found her center, and began to turn the pain dial slowly down, feeling the constriction in her head and neck begin to ease.  A small voice inside her mind said, "This would be so much easier if you let Blair help…" No, no, she wasn't going to go there.  Maybe Megan could help, the little voice persisted.  She knew Blair had been talking with her, teaching her how to work with a sentinel, and she'd overhead a couple of conversations in which Megan spoke of aiding Ellison, but she had resisted Blair's attempts to get her to work with the Aussie.

It wasn't that she didn't like her, she did.  She'd found the inspector to be a lot like herself, a strong, caring woman, and a fighter.  She'd even gotten her to join herself and Blair in their morning workouts, which had gone a long way towards opening Megan up.  They'd had Australia in common, and fencing, and had even gone a few rounds with foils. Megan was a pretty good swordswoman, and Dee was looking forward to sparring with her again.  But as far as Megan as a companion went, Dee wasn't sure.

Most of her doubts had nothing to do with Megan, and everything to do with her own fear of losing another companion.  To bind herself that closely to another person again, and to watch them die…she couldn't do it, it was too painful.  What was it Blair had told her about Ellison, that his life was built on fear based responses?  That statement pretty much described her reactions to the idea of a new companion…she was afraid of being hurt again, and with good reason.  Insanity was not something she wanted to try a second time.

The sound of the door to the loft opening broke her concentration, and someone swung a sledgehammer inside her head.  She couldn't stop the moan from escaping.

Footsteps crossed the room, but she didn't have enough strength to lift her arm from over her eyes to see who it was.  "Pallas?"  Well, that was the last person she'd expected.  "Diandra?"  All she could manage was a strangled whimper.  "Damn it!  Sandburg!  Get in here!"

Two more sets of footsteps entered the room.  "Dee?" That was Lobo, his heartbeat racing.  She felt him move to her side.  "Dee, damn it!  Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"This bad?  You mean she's had this kind of headache before?"  There was no reply from Blair, but Dee guessed he must have nodded. "Sandburg!  You're the guide!  You're not supposed to let this happen!"

"I'm sorry, Jim.  She told me she was fine…" Dee wanted to smack Ellison, all he was doing was making it worse, but even the smallest movement on her part threatened to split her head in two.

"Can you two quit arguing and help her?" Megan's voice was anxious. She felt the woman's hand close around her own, and she tried not to break her fingers as another wave of pain washed over her.  "Oh, ow, bloody hell!" Megan cursed, snatching her hand back.

"Sorry," Dee whispered.  She felt Blair's hands under her shoulders, lifting her into a sitting position on the couch.  She started to slide forward, and was stopped by Ellison, her forehead leaning against his shoulder.  The movement had set off an orchestra of jackhammers, and she could hold the tears back no longer.  Everything was a big, throbbing red haze, and she couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't speak.  She could feel though, and warm hands were rubbing her shoulders with the lightest of touches, strong fingers leeching away the tension, easing the pain.

Time passed.  Hearing was the next sense to return, and she could make out Blair's low, calm voice steadying her, guiding her easily through turning down the dials.  There had been some reason she'd been resisting his help, but she couldn't remember what it was now. Gradually she became aware of Ellison's solid warmth beneath her cheek, and Megan's hovering presence.  "Dee?"

"Hmm?"

"How are you doing, angel?  That any better?"  Blair was asking her a question.

"Tired…" she mumbled, and leaned a little closer to Jim.  He made a pretty good pillow, she thought, yawning.

"Okay, we're going to try and get you upstairs."  Dee yawned again. She'd have to stay awake for that; watching the three of them maneuver her nearly 6', 150 pound frame up a spiral staircase was going to be interesting.

Despite her desire, her eyes slid closed as Ellison managed to get her across his shoulder in a fireman's carry.  At Blair's sideways look, he said, "You have any better ideas?"  Taking his silence as a no, Jim carried her across the studio and up the stairs, Megan and Blair following behind with all sorts of helpful advice, which he blithely ignored.  Unloading his ungainly package on the bed, he stepped back, letting the other two take over.

"Hey, Jim, you remember where that white noise generator is in the loft?  Think you can get it, man?  Keeping everything down as much as we can is going to be a big help," Blair said, reaching for the buttons on Dee's blouse.

"Yeah, sure, Chief," he answered, already heading back down the stairs. When he returned, he found Megan and Blair had managed to get Dee undressed and into bed.  She appeared dead to the world, but looks could be deceiving.  Jim knew that even asleep, a sentinel was always subliminally aware of their surroundings.

He handed Blair the white noise generator, along with an eyeshade he sometimes used when the light in the loft kept him from sleeping. "Thanks, Jim," Blair said, setting the generator on the nightstand and turning it on.  He slid the shade over her eyes, and watched her for a moment, his hand over hers.  "I think it's best if we let her sleep for as long as she can.  She's been running on empty for a couple days now."  He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"We need to talk, Chief," Jim said, his tone worried.

Blair nodded.  "Someone needs to stay with Dee.  If she wakes up and can't see or hear, she'll panic."

"I'll stay," Megan volunteered, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed.  Jim and Blair headed downstairs, while Megan tried to get comfortable without waking Dee.

****

She felt smothered.  It wasn't as though she couldn't breathe; she could feel the air inflating her lungs each time she drew a breath. She felt a distance, a disconnection from her surroundings.  Everything was foggy and hazy where it had once been crystal clear.  As she struggled against the darkness, the nothingness, she felt a touch, a hand on her shoulder, stoking her, soothing her.

The person leaned in close; she could feel their breath puffing softly against her ear.  "It's okay, Dee.  Just relax.  Let me go get Sandy." The reassuring pressure on her arm vanished, and she was lost in the mist, abandoned once again.  Something within her, something deep and dark and primal, howled.

The surface she was lying on shifted, and she scrambled in the opposite direction, her arms and legs tangling in some kind of cloth.  Once again, she felt a touch on her arm, this time one that was intimately familiar.  "Lobo?" she whispered.

"Right here, Dee.  It's okay, just relax.  You had a sensory overload, and we're doing the best we can to bring everything back under control. Now that you're awake, you can help us.  I need you to find the dials, and turn them all down, as far as they can go," Blair said.

After a few moments concentration, she nodded.  "Okay, now very slowly turn them back up to normal, which would be about a three."  When she nodded again, Blair took off the blindfold.  Dee blinked a couple times, then her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom.  "I'm going to turn off the white noise generator now, so be prepared to turn your hearing down if you have to."

When he flipped the switch on the small box on the nightstand, it was as though he had turned back on something inside her.  The fuzziness, the disconnected feeling disappeared.  Finally feeling confident enough to move, she ran a hand through her tangled hair.  "Wow.  That thing's scary."

Blair scooted closer to her and turned on the bedside lamp.  "Yeah, it can be if you don't know what it is."  He brushed his fingers across her cheek.  "How are you feeling?  Still have a headache?"

"It's gone," she replied.  "I'm sorry about this, Lobo.  I thought I could handle this without freaking."  Slamming her hand down on the mattress, she swore.  "Damn it, I could have gotten you killed, I could have gotten Megan killed!"

Sliding his arms around her, Blair pulled her into a hug.  "It's okay. That didn't happen.  You did the best you could; nobody blames you."

Resting her chin on his shoulder, she sighed.  "I never thought about this happening at all.  It never occurred to me that I've never really worked without a full-time companion.  I mean, Lydia was always there; I guess I kind of took what she did for granted."

Pulling back so he could look her in the eye, Blair said, "Well, at least you've proven one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: Jim's stuck with me whether he likes it or not."

Dee surprised herself by actually giggling.  "I trust you pointed that out to him?"

"Oh, yeah."

Leaning back against the headboard, she said, "Sorry I ruined your plan, Blair.  Guess you should talk to Captain Banks about that safehouse."

"Already did.  It should be ready tomorrow night, then all four of us are going to check in."

She raised an eyebrow.  "All four of us?"

"Extra protection.  And we can work on your senses in a controlled environment, using Jim as a control subject."  He grinned at the idea of getting his sentinel to undergo more testing.

Knowing how much Ellison hated being poked and prodded by the anthropologist, she said, "He know about this?"

"He does now!" came floating up from the living area.  Blair and Dee stared at each other for a moment, then burst into helpless peals of laughter.

****

Dee drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel of the Cherokee.  This safehouse thing was a good idea, she tried to convince herself.  Yep, one big, heavily guarded, no way in or out fortress.  Why then, did she feel like she was heading for prison?  She glanced at her passenger.

Blair was seemingly oblivious to her worries.  He was poking his finger in and out of a hole in the dashboard.  She sighed.  "Please don't do that."

"Hmm, oh?  Yeah, sorry.  I still can't believe how many bullet holes there are in this thing, and it still runs.  A lot tougher than the trucks Jim's had.  One or two little crashes, and they were done for." He gazed out the windshield at the long line of taillights ahead of them.  "Must be an accident or something.  We're gonna be late."

"Well, they're not going to go anywhere without us."  She eased up on the brake a little, and with a slight hesitation, the Jeep moved forward.  That was funny.  It never did that before.  That's what she got for letting the police garage check it out before releasing it to her.  Should have taken it to a real mechanic, or better yet, had Duncan take a look at it.  All they needed was for the car to stall out in this traffic.

Fortunately, it stayed running long enough for her to turn into the parking lot behind the loft thirty minutes later.  "Jim's truck's here, so I guess they must be upstairs," Blair said, grabbing his backpack from the floor.  "It safe to go up?"

She focused her hearing on the surrounding area, and found the lot deserted.  "Yeah, it's okay."  Something nagged at her though, and she checked once again, as Blair got out of the car.  Dee was turning off the ignition, when she realized what it was.  "RUN LOBO!" she screamed, reaching for the door handle as the Cherokee exploded in a ball of flame.
 
 
 

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