Willow Springs, Arkansas
Early Evening, 23 January

Moiré Michaels glared at the phone on her desk, daring it to continue ringing. Four, five, six, oh hell! Answer the durn thing! "What?!?"

"Moiré? Catch you at the wrong time?"

"Mike! What's wrong, why are you calling on the private line?" Moiré sat up, her instincts screaming at her that something was definitely wrong.

"Uh, I need to know Steaphan's mother's maiden name."

The older woman shot to her feet. "Why!??! Caragh, what's going on?!?"

"He's being admitted to Cascade General Hospital. I don't know for certain, yet, but he may have to have surgery to repair the damageÖ"

"I'll get a full account from you later. His mother was Diarma Cannady. Have you called anyone else, Steaphy for example?"

"No. Not yet. I need to call Sean, and as soon as I get updated on Steaphan I'll call Steaphy."

"Wrong. You'll call me, I'll call her. I'll also get Coran to get the Flyer prepped, you'll probably need a second pilot to get the Aine back to roost." Moiré flipped open the huge rolodex on her credenza and started looking up the phone numbers for Coran Flint and Steaphanie Shannon.

"Bless you, Mom. I'll call back as soon as I can. Love you."

Moiré looked a the phone, wondering what kind of trouble her granddaughter had managed to get into, and wondering just how Steaphan had gotten hurt. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she hung up the phone, only to pick it up again and dial out. "Coran? Get the Flyer ready, you're going to Cascade with Steaphy. No, she doesn't know yet, I haven't called her. Go spin up the damn plane and I'll have Steaphy and Sean contact you at the hanger. Good. Thank you." Deciding that was all she was able to do, until she heard back from Caragh, Moiré sat in her office, watching the moon rise over the fields outside her windows, and willed the phone to ring with Caragh's return call.

Having brought Captain Banks up to speed, but not being able to catch up with his partner, Jim Ellison caught up with Caragh McConnel outside of Trauma 2. Where she was leaning against the wall, doing her best to hold it, and herself, upright. "McConnel? Anything yet?" She didn't answer him, only shook her head in the 'negative'. He had to dodge in closer to her as a nurse rushed by, entering the trauma room carrying a large folder of what appeared to be x-ray films.

Caragh came up off the wall, her anxiety levels shooting upward when the harried nurse had barged into the sealed off room. She tried to look into the room, to see Steaphan, but her view of him was effectively blocked by all the personnel swarming around him. She hit the wall in her frustration. "Damn it! Why won't they tell me what's going on?" Turning to face the Cascade detective, she lowered her voice to where only he could hear her, "Jim, can you tell me? What's going on in there? Please?"

He looked at her, the similarities of appearances between this woman and his best friend, even more apparent. ëDamn, that's the same hang-dog expression that the Chief uses. I wonder if she learned it from him, or he from her?í "No. Not here. I'm too tired to try it. Sorry, Caragh."

Biting her lip, she leaned back against the wall. "That's okay, I never should've asked. Guess I'm a little tired myself."

Now that the adrenaline rush had worn off, Jim took a moment to really study the young woman as she leaned against the wall. All the signs were there. Pale coloring, lack of energy, shallow breathing and he was sure if he did extend his hearing, her heart rate would be slow, sluggish even. "Caragh, just how long have you been on your feet today?"

She shrugged. "What time is it?"

"Just after twenty-hundred hours. Eight PM."

Caragh let a small snicker escape her. "I know military time, Ellison. Let's see, hmm, about eighteen hours, maybe more, maybe less."

"Okay, that's it." Jim grabbed her by the elbow and led her over to a chair by the nurse's station. "Stay there, I'll be right back." He glanced over at another secretary, another that he knew on sight, but not a name and managed to convey the message that he was responsible for making sure the exhausted woman stayed right where he had put her. The man nodded and Jim took off.

She wasn't even aware of how much time passed her, she kept staring at the door to the room where her friend lay injured. Caragh came back to some awareness of her environment when the smell of fresh coffee assailed her. Looking up, she saw Jim Ellison holding out a coffee cup and a candy bar. Nodding her appreciation, she took the coffee, not wanting the candy and sipped the hot, fresh brewed, dark liquid.

"Uh, uh. You eat this too, McConnel." He put the candy bar, a Snickers, into her free hand. Leaning in close to her he whispered, "I don't need my senses to know that your blood sugar is low."

Not wanting to argue, she unwrapped the candy and took a bite, following it quickly with a slug of the coffee. Her mouth cleared she glared up at him. "I really hate these things you know. I'd rather have a granola bar."

"Sorry about that. I didn't have much to choose from. Coffee okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Grimacing, she took another bite of the chocolate confection and another sip of the coffee.

Jim wasn't satisfied, yet. He found an empty chair and pulled it up next to hers, making sure he didn't block the pathway and sat down. "You're more like Blair than I thought. And before you try to hide the last half of that barÖ. Eat it."

"Yes, sir." She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was feeling better. Her knees no longer felt like they were made of Jell-O and the buzzing in her head had stopped. Finishing the bar, she threw the wrapper into a waste can and sipped more of the coffee.

"Better now?" Caragh nodded, sipping out of the cup he had handed her. "Good. Cause unless I'm mistakenÖ"

"Ms. McConnel?"

Caragh's head snapped up, looking up into the face of a man not much older than Ellison wearing scrubs and a white lab coat. "Yes?"

The man held out his hand. "I'm Doctor Abrams. Mr. Shannon is doing quite well, considering the amount of blood loss and his injury. We'll be taking him to surgery in a few moments, he's a little groggy but he wants to talk with you."

Letting out a shaky sigh, she got to her feet, handed Ellison the nearly empty cup, and shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you. I'll be right back, Jim." And she went into the treatment room.

Abrams looked at the detective standing before him. "She your partner's sister, Detective?"

"No. It's uncanny though, isn't it?" Just moments before, Jim could've sworn that Caragh McConnel was just about out on her feet, but the energy she had just displayed by nearly running to her friend's side belied the idea.

"I'll say. By the way, it'll be some time before Mr. Shannon gets back out of surgery, we've a lot of damage to repair. Make sure she gets some rest, will you? I know the signs, she's fast approaching her melting point and her friend will need her support after he wakes up."

"I'll try, Doc. But she may not want to leave."

"You're right, I don't." Caragh had come out of the room to find the two men discussing her and after what Steaphan had just told her, she wasn't very happy.

Abrams swung around to face her. "Young lady. Either you go back to the place you're staying at and rest there until Eight AM, or I'll find you a bed in this hospital and admit you for observation."

Jim saw the anger flare in her eyes, and, just as quickly as it had spring up, it faded, leaving him to wonder if he'd really seen it. "Caragh, Doc's right. You're exhausted. You need to get a good-sized meal, then a full night's rest. You know how adrenaline let down can be."

Caragh buried her face in her hands, trying to stem the tears that threatened to appear. Taking several deep breaths she lowered her hands and nodded. "You're right. Both of you. I gave my number and location to the admitting clerk, Doctor Abrams. Will you have someone call me the minute Steve's out of surgery and you have a prognosis?"

"I can do that, sure. Now, Jim? Take this young, very tired, lady to dinner, then straight to where ever it is she's staying." Abrams gave the distraught woman a friendly squeeze on the arm and went to finish prepping for the surgery.

"Come on, Caragh. I'll drive you to the hotel you're staying at." He tried to gently lead her away from the desk she was leaning against.

"I can drive you know, Ellison." She refused to move.

"I know you can, you followed me here, remember? But we haven't had a chance to talk yet and you're in no condition to drive, so I'll drive, you talk. Got it?" With the Emergency Room full of staff members, patients and family he didn't want to come straight out and say what he wanted to talk to her about, but tried to get the message across to her.

"Okay, I give up. We'll leave my rental here and you can show off that sweet '69 Ford to me." She let him lead the way out of the ER and to the parking lot. Under the sodium lights, the truck ? the blue and white classic ? waited for them.

Jim opened up the passenger door, holding it for her as she climbed in and smiled at her. "So, you like my truck?"

"I am from Arkansas. Of course I like your pick up. But it's not at all like mineÖ" She let her sentence die then as he shut the door and trotted around the front to the drivers side and got in himself.

"Oh? What have you got?" He cranked over the engine, grinning like a fool as the powerful v-8 roared to life.

"A '67 Chevy."

"Really? Restored or original?"

"Restored to original condition, almost. It's got a 454 pursuit package under the hood. I'll show you some pictures when we get to the hotel."

Pulling out to the street he stopped. "You're on. Which hotel?"

"Cascade Arms."

Jim whistled through his teeth. "Damn! Your 'Company' sure knows how to treat it's people right." He pulled onto the street, heading for the higher classed, five star hotel.

Caragh moaned and pulled her backpack off the floorboard. "Shit! I forgot to call Moiré back! Do you mind?" She held out the cell phone.

"Go ahead. 'Moy-rah'?"

"My CEO and Grandmother. I told her I'd call when I knew more about Steaphan."

The drive to the hotel was pleasant, and Jim endeavored not to listen in on the conversation his passenger was having with her grandmother cum boss. He pulled into the Cascade Arms parking garage just as she hung up on the call.

Willow Springs, Arkansas Before Midnight, 23 January

Moiré Michaels hung up the phone and turned to face the three guests she had waiting in her office. "That was Mike. Steaphy, Steve's okay. He has to have surgery to repair the damage to his shoulder, but we should hear more by morning. Coran, that means you'll most likely have the fly the Flyer back from Cascade, letting Steaphy bring the Aine back. And Sean," she turned to face her grandson by marriage, "Mike's fine. She's met up with this detective Ellison and he's taking her under his wing. Even as we spoke he was driving her back to the hotel to take her statement about the incident and to make sure she eats something. She'll be just fine."

Sean nodded. He'd talked with Ellison several times over the last few weeks, and had gotten to know the man fairly well. For some reason he trusted the man with Caragh's safety, he just wished he knew why. "Thank you, Moiré. Steaphy, when do you and Coran want to head out?"

Steaphanie Shannon looked first to Sean, then to Coran, and back to Sean. "How about four hours? That'll give us time to get packed, the plane loaded, and put us into Cascade about nine am, providing the weather pattern holds."

Coran Flint nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me. The Flyer's all spun up, ready to go. I just need to pack a few day's worth of clothing and then I'll be ready."

"I'm already packed. I'll meet you all at the airstrip." And with that, Sean left the office. Once outside the building, he ran into Leland Andrews.

"Sean! Everything set? How's Steaphan and Mike?"

Sean walked over to the Sheriff. "Mike's fine. Steaphan's going into surgery to repair the damage to his shoulder. Coran, Steaphy and I are leaving about four am. Joe ready for this absence of mine?"

"As ready as he can be. The PA's not real happy about it though. He had to fight with the defense attorney to accept your statement on stipulation."

"I know, I had a nice long talk with Douglas before I came over here to wait for Mike's call. He's not real happy either, especially when I told him he didn't want me on the stand again."

Lee chuckled. "I'll bet! He's still getting razed about that last time. You sure put him in his place, Sean."

The detective shrugged. "Hey, I don't tell him how to be a lawyer, he shouldn't try to tell me how to be an investigator."

"True, true. Look, when you see Mike in the morning, let her and Steaphan know we're all anxious for them to get back here to the nice safe 'city' of Willow Springs. Okay?" Lee held out his hand and when his friend shook it, he held on to him. "And don't let those big city cops try to recruit you, Sean. I need you back here."

"Not a chance in hell that I'd give up this place, Lee. I love it here. Besides, have you seen the crime statistics for Cascade? It seems to be a Crooks Mecca." Sean released the Sheriff's hand and turned to open the door to his unit. Then he turned back to face the man. "By the way, I'll have the unit parked at the airstrip should you have need of it while I'm gone. Just don't let anyone smoke in it, will you?"

"Like anyone would. Now, go on. Go get a nap in while you're waiting for your plane."

"I'll try, Lee. Good night."

"Good night, Sean."

Caragh McConnel and Jim Ellison had settled in a booth in the back most corner of the hotel's restaurant where they both ate a late dinner and he took her statement about the night's events. He had just put his notebook away when she looked at him and said, "Go ahead, you've been dying to ask me all night."

Jim leaned over the table and smiled. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yes. So, go ahead, fire away, Jim."

"How did you know?"

She smiled. "About you being a sentinel?"

"Yes."

"You probably won't believe me."

"Try me."

Looking into his blue eyes, she saw and recognized the challenge. "Fine," she answered, "but not here. Come on." She slid out of the booth, deftly palming the bill as she did so and walked to the cashier where she paid for the meals and silently dared him to complain. She was rather surprised that he didn't. They walked in silence to the elevators and once on the tenth floor, she led the way to her room.

Jim wasn't even aware that he was testing the area with his senses, until he stopped just a few feet from the door to Caragh's room. "Caragh, wait."

Turning to face him, she noticed that Jim was standing in the middle of the hall, using his senses from the way he held himself. Lowering her voice, she approached him, her hand drifting back towards her gun. "What is it?"

"You smell that?"

"What?"

"Same smell from the plane. I think you had a visitor."

"Had? As in they're no longer here?" Caragh relaxed a little bit, but fascinated to watch this man with the same talents as her husband, doing what she thought only Sean could do.

Reaching out with his hearing, piggy backing his sense of smell to it, he scanned the room again. With the double up technique, the piggyback, he was able to avoid zoning. Most of the time. "Jim? Follow my voice, come on. Get back here, Sentinel." Her voice reached him as did her hand on his arm and he looked at her.

"That was interesting. Anything?" Caragh asked.

"Nothing. Whoever it was, is long gone," Jim announced and followed her as she made her way to the door, used the electronic pass key and opened the door. Her gasp of surprise didn't escape his notice. Stepping into the room behind her, he was greeted with the sight of a destructive search very similar to the one that had occurred on the plane earlier that evening.

"Damn it! Who the hell is doing this and why?" Caragh dropped her backpack to the floor and stomped into the room, looking over the strewn mess that went from the day area, to the bedroom, even to the bathroom. Nothing was left untouched; some items had even been slashed open.

Jim pulled out his cell phone and called in the break-in, asking for a patrol unit to come and take the report, as he was technically involved at this point. "Unit's on the way. As soon as they show up, and forensics gets here, get together some of your things. You cannot stay here."

"But what about Steaphan?"

Flipping open his cell phone again, he called over to Major Crimes. "Megan? Ellison. Look there's a patient at Cas-Gen that needs protection. Tonight, maybe a bit longer. Steaphan Shannon, he should be on the post surgical wing. Stabbing victim from earlier tonight at the Municipal Airport. Yeah. Thanks Connor." Shutting the phone down again, he looked over at Caragh. "Taken care of. Megan Connor will see that Steven is protected, just in case. Any ideas as to what these people might be after?"

"Thank you, again, Jim." She wandered around the room, thinking. "It has to be something that they suspect I have or know that I have."

"A book, maybe?" He leaned over and picked up the heavy black leather bag from where she had dropped it. "Jeez, what do you have in here, rocks?"

Caragh smiled as she walked over and took the bag from him. "Close. Just a few notebooks, a date planner, my passport, ID's, Federal Permit for my Ruger, and what they might be after." She unzipped the bag, reached in and pulled out the leather bound book and handed it to him.

Jim took the book from her and looked at the title, "Guardians and Protectors." He looked back at her, "Mike, this is the book that your husband found at the murder scene, isn't it? The one you were studying to see if you could find a connection?" It had taken most of the night, but he had finally gotten used to calling the anthropologist by her chosen nickname.

Caragh smiled. "Oh, I found a connection all right. Jim, you're looking at it."

"What?"

"There's no easy way to tell you, and I was planning on it anyway, so before the boys in blue show upÖ.

Willow Springs, Arkansas
Prior to 4 AM, 24 January

Sean was just about to board the plane that would take him, Coran Flint and Steaphanie Shannon to Cascade when he heard a car motor approaching the airstrip. "Coran, have Steaphy wait up a few more minutes. We've company coming." He pointed over his shoulder to where the other man could just make out the approaching headlights.

"Sure. Steaphy! Ten minute delay. Company." The young man called out to the pilot on the flight deck.

Steaphanie looked at her chronograph, noting the time. "Fine. We've got a clearance from North West Regional for 0400hrs, we miss that window and we'll be bumped to 0415 or later."

"I'll tell him." Coran followed Sean down back down the steps of the Flyer and waited with him. "Steaph's not real happy right now. We need to be ready to take off in less than fifteen minutes."

Sean nodded. "I'll try to make it quick. That looks like Thomas McCaigh's car, Mike's TA. Wonder what's so important that he's up at this time of day?"

"Tommy? With him he's probably still up. I'll wait in the Flyer, it's a little too cool out here this morning for me." Coran shivered as he turned back to board the plane again.

Thomas McCaigh was pushing his old Pinto to its limits, he had to reach the airstrip before Sean McConnel took off. As he caught sight of the plane waiting on the runway and the detective standing outside it, he sighed in relief. Pulling his car up to the edge of the runway, he piled out and trotted over to the man. "Sean! I need to talk to you, I'm so glad I caught you!"

"You almost didn't. Thomas, explain in twelve minutes or less, if you can."

Nodding his understanding, Thomas launched into his explanation. "Mike had a visitor yesterday at the college, an old class mate he said. An Archaeologist. He seemed okay, nice guy, but then I recalled that when he came into the office he asked if I was Mike, it didn't hit me until a few hours ago that he must not have been who he said he was, that maybe it was tied into the case you and Mike have been working on. He left a note, I brought it." He slowed down to take a breath and hand off the note, crumpled from being in his coat pocket. "See? He claimed to have gone to school with her in Cascade, but he didn't know that I wasn't Mike until I said that I wasn't and that she had had to leave on an emergency trip. I had a class to teach, he asked to write the note, so I left him in the office. When I got back I picked up a call from a Detective Ellson? No, Ellison. Anyway I pushed the note aside and started grading papers, found it again just about two am and reading it over, I realized that he couldn't have known Mike. He said something about an expedition they had been on together in 93, but she didn't go on any trips that year. Did she? That was the year you two hitched up, wasn't it? Anyway, thinking back about this guy's visit creeped me out and I knew I had to speak with you about it."

All the while that Thomas had been rattling off his story, Sean had retrieved a small penlight from his pocket and read the note. The signature at the bottom of the note was almost unlegible, but not quite. The name was one he knew. A young recruit for that covert Ops group that had tried to recruit him. Alex Krycek. Noticing that Thomas had wound down, Sean looked up at the kid.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll make sure that Mike knows about it too. Anything you need me to tell her?" He had five minutes to get on board before Steaphanie would lose her window and her temper.

"Nah, just let her know the students miss her and so do I."

Sean smiled and clasped the young man on the shoulder. "I'll do that, Thomas. Now, clear that rat-trap you call a car off the runway so that I can get out of here."

"Yes, sir!" Thomas ran back to his Pinto and cleared the runway.

Sean climbed back up the stairway into the cabin of the Flyer then pulled the door shut and secured it. Before he made it to his seat, Steaphanie was revving the engines up to take off speed, by the time he had sat down and secured his belt, she was taxing down the runway. Glancing at his watch, he noted that the plane left the ground at exactly 0400hrs. He waited until the plane leveled out and got out of his seat to approach the flight deck.

Steaphanie was in the pilot's seat, leaving Coran the co-pilot for this flight. She leveled out the plane and engaged the autopilot, then turned to face one of her friends' husband. "Well, was that a smooth enough take off for you, Jar-head?"

Sean smiled, she was one of the few people that he allowed to get away with that nickname for him. "Sure was, Fly-baby. But then, I've had 'real' pilots take me up in harriers, so this is like a cake walk."

"Oh, you two, it's too early to listen to the two of you exchange inter- service insults!" Coran covered his ears to emphasize his point.

"Really? And just when I had a really good one to 'zing' the cannon fodder with." Steaphanie looked at Coran and smiled.

"No. Not until I've had a few more hours of shut eye. Sean? Want my seat?" Coran got up and carefully pushed his way past the large detective to head back to the passenger cabin and one of the couches there.

Sean sat down in the co-pilot's seat and raised an eyebrow towards the female pilot. "Well? You gonna tell me your 'zinger'?"

"Sure. I only packed one chute."

"I HEARD THAT! NOT FUNNY STEAPH!" Coran's voice floated up to them from the back.

The two on the flight deck glanced at each other and started to laugh. They finally settled and while she kept an eye on the flight controls, Sean watched the passing landscape below, waiting for the sun to come up and paint the land. After the snores could be heard coming from Coran, over the engine noise no less, Sean pulled out the note that Thomas had handed him. "Steaphanie, have you ever heard Mike speak of a Alex Krycek?"

Snapping her head around she stared at him. "Who?"

"AlexÖ"

"Krycek. Oh, man I've not heard that name in years!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he used to live with Moiré and Mike back in the late seventies. A foster child that no one wanted for very long. Alex was a real handful. But once he went to live with Moiré, he settled down. What makes you ask about him?"

He handed the note over to her. "He came to see Mike at the College yesterday, but Thomas thought it strange that he didn't know Mike on sight when he claimed to have gone to school with her in Rainier. She hasn't changed that much since then, has she?"

"No. But Alex didn't go to Rainier, he went to the University of Tulsa for a year, then we lost track of him. It was like he just disappeared." Reading the note in the light from the map light overhead, she recognized the writing. "Well, that is Alex's handwriting. But I doubt he's an archaeologist."

"That's what I was thinking. I met a Krycek once, while I was active duty. Took an instant dislike to the man."

Steaphanie handed the note back to Sean. "That sure sounds like Alex. He was one of those that you either liked, or hated. There was no in between with him."

"Thanks, Steaph. We high up enough for me to work the sat-phone?"

Checking her altitude, she said, "Sure. But take it to the back, I don't trust those things on the flight deck."

Sean got up, pulling the latest in phone technology from inside his coat. He walked all the way back to the rear of the plane before activating the device. He dialed the number to the Cascade Arms in hopes that he wasn't about to wake up his wife, but then not really caring if he did. If the Krycek that had spent a few years with the Michaels was the same one he had met, the man was a Skunk Worker. A wet man. And Sean didn't believe that his appearance in Willow Springs was a mere coincidence. The ringing on the line ended with a male voice answering.

"Hello?"

Startled, Sean merely mumbled, "Sorry, wrong room," and broke the connection. He sat back on an overstuffed couch and decided to try another tactic. Relaxing his mind, then his body, he put all he could into forming the image of his Guardian and Wife and trying to instill in her the idea for her to call him. After ten minutes, he gave up. Apparently they could only do such things when in close proximity of each other. So he tried something else. He knew that he practically recorded everything he heard, all he had to do was backtrack to the short phone call to Caragh's room and replay it, slowly.

As he filtered out the sounds on the line he came to the realization that there had been a number of people in the background in his wife's room. They had been quiet, but he could clearly recall one saying, "Bag it. We'll get it down to the lab and let Serena tell us what it is."

Sean came back to the present, wondering what had happened in his wife's room that something was being handled like evidence and being taken to a lab. ëDamn, am I going to be too late after all? Mike, what have you gotten yourself into now?í

Caragh watched as the evidence team from Cascade PD went over her room inch, by painstaking, inch. They were starting to look frustrated; she couldn't blame them. She had assisted Jim in going over the room with the detective's senses and had come up only with the smell that he had detected in the hall. Thinking back over the past hour or so, brought a smile to her lipsÖ

An Hour Earlier

"ÖJim Ellison, I'm Caragh Draygon Michaels-McConnel. Siomahnka and Guardian of the Clan and Tribe."

The detective looked at her in surprise, and confusion. "Guardian? You're a Sentinel?"

Caragh sank onto the bed behind her. "No. Look, this isn't going to be easy. You're friends with Blair Sandburg, right?"

Jim came to sit beside her on the bed. "Yeah, he's also my partner. But what does that have to do with you?"

"Have you read his Master's Thesis? The one that he postulated about Burton being correct, and that there must be modern 'Sentinels' in our world?" She looked into his blue eyes, daring him to challenge the fact that there were modern sentinelsÖwhen he was one himself.

"I never read it. But I'm familiar with Blair's work." He saw the challenge in her eyes, and let it go.

"Good." She leaned over and plucked the book from his hands, patting it as she laid it in her lap. "'Guardians and Protectors' is another work, much like Burton's 'Sentinels of Paraguay', but it wasn't written very well as Blackie Wilkins wasn't a anthropologist. And from reading his words, I think he was confused by the titles for a Sentinel and the companion or Guide." Opening the book, she exposed the page in the back where Wilkins had pondered about who was what in his time. Caragh put the book back in the Sentinel's lap. "Read while I explain a little bit."

Jim looked at the words, letting their meaning sink into his brain while Caragh soothing voice gave up her secrets.

"My family can trace our history all the way back to County Donegal in Ireland and as far back as the late 1100's. Ours was a powerful clan, never defeated in battle, wealthy traders, farming folk and shepherds. Our Chief at the time, Diarmut MacDair, was the clan's Protector and the clan's primary druid, Shamus ni'Greinna, had made the choice to follow the words of McMannus McLir and within months, the entire clan was ready to move. They contracted with the Dragonmen, what's now known to have been Norsemen or Vikings, to purchase several ships and they loaded up and headed west." She couldn't help it; Caragh was in a lecturing mode and had to stand up and pace. "Anyway, to cut it short, the clan ended up in America long before Columbus found it. We traveled the East Coast, making friends with the local Indian tribes and eventually settled in the area controlled by the Osage Empire, in the early 1600's." She made to continue, but Ellison held up his hand.

"Wait a minute. Company." He handed her the book and got up to answer the door on the first knock. "This isn't your night, is it Jacks?"

"No, sir." The female patrolman from earlier had the grace to blush in embarrassment. No wonder dispatch hadn't told them the name of the complainant, they probably thought that Jacks would've found a reason to avoid the call. ëAnd I probably would've, damn them.í

Raymond Jons was a little discomfited himself, but as he was the senior team member, he had to take control of this. "Did you call this in, Detective?"

"Yes, but I can't take the report. Come on in, both of you." Jim held the door open wider and the two officers stepped into the room, apparently surprised to see Caragh standing there in the room. "This is your complainant, Dr. Caragh McConnel."

Jacks practically squeaked when she found her voice. "But I thought you were a Deputy?"

Caragh nodded. "I am. I'm also a Doctor of Anthropology and, for right now, a Purchasing Agent for the DeDanu Corporation. Think you can handle a person with multiple personalities?" She reached out and offered her hand in greeting to the two officers.

Jons, seeing that Jacks was slow to react, reached out and shook the woman's hand. "I'm getting used to such things, Doctor. I live in Cascade after all." He was rewarded with a brilliant smile. "Now, can you tell me everything that happened, in order? Jacks, why don't you step out into the hall with Detective Ellison and grab his statement and that's all. Don't try to get him to give you his perspective on how to proceed." Jons smiled at the detective, who nodded in understanding, as he allowed the younger officer to lead the way out. Turning back to his complainant, he found her trying to cover a giggle. "Doctor?"

Caragh managed to get herself under control before answering the concerned Sergeant's unspoken question. "She's new isn't she? You're her FTOÖField Training Officer?"

"Yeah. First week. She's not doing too badly, but it scares me that she was the best of her class from the academy. Makes me wonder about the city's future." Jons reached into his uniform coat and pulled out a note pad and pen. "Forget I said that. You ready to tell me what happened?"

Jim listened in for a little bit to the statement that Caragh was giving, while giving his own to Jacks, just to make sure that the Doctor wasn't giving information that would make a sharp Sergeant like Jons wonder about him. He listened as she tapped danced subtlety around the truth that he had used his sentinel senses and was suitably impressed with her skills of obfuscation. She was as good as Sandburg in that department. Maybe she had taught him that particular skill? Concluding his statement, Jacks decided to go back down to the lobby to await the arrival of the evidence team to escort them up. She had questioned him about the strange name mix up at the desk, stating that the room had been registered under the name of 'Kara O'Shannessy' and not 'Caragh McConnel' and did he know why that would be? He patiently explained that McConnel was working with the Sheriff's Department back home in Arkansas on a case which was tied into several that he and Major Crimes was working, and that threats had been made against the Doctor. But as the patrolman walked away, he filed the other name under his 'questions to ask' file and poked his head back into the room.

"Caragh? You going to be a while?"

She looked up at him over Jons' shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I'm also giving the Sergeant here my statement about the airport if that's okay?"

"Fine. I need to make a few calls, see what I can do about getting you set up in a safe house or something." He pulled the door shut and listened again as she went over her 'airport' statement. Satisfied, he pulled his cell phone out and made his first call.

"Simon? Yeah, I know. It's late. I just thought I'd give you the low down before someone else didÖ" And he filled his captain in on the events of the evening since he had left the office. Then, he told the captain his plans for getting McConnel to a safe house.

"Jim? You sure? You don't have much room there, and while I agree that it's probably the best choice for you to help protect her, where are you going to put her? On the couch?" Simon Banks' mind was working overtime. He'd been awakened from a nap on his own couch by Jim's phone call, told about the airport incident, and now it seemed that the woman his detective was offering to protect was the Arkansas equivalent of one Blair Sandburg.

"I'm sure, Simon. I'll put her in my room and take the couch for myself. That'll put me between the door and her and any danger that might decide to pay a visit."

"Fine. But bring her into the station later, I want to meet her."

"Will do. After I take her back to the hospital to check on her friend."

Simon thought about it. "Okay, but since you've managed to put in so much overtime today, I won't expect to see you, Sandburg and your guest until after lunch."

Jim smirked. "Deal. Now, if you don't mind, I'd better call Sandburg and let him know that we're going to have a guest."

"That should be a fun conversation. Good night, Jim."

Jim shut off the phone and once again tuned his hearing to the room behind him and then scanned a little further. He could hear the arrival of the portable lab van and figured he had about 5, maybe 10, minutes before they got to his location. Turning the phone back on, he called the loft.

Blair Sandburg was trying to be as quiet as possible when he entered the loft after midnight. He hadn't meant to spend so much time at the University, but he'd gotten caught up in a late tutorial session with some of his students and time had flown by. He had just opened the door when the phone started ringing. ëDamn it!í He ran and picked up the phone in the kitchen. ëHope that didn't wake Jim up.í "Hello?"

"Sandburg, it's me."

"Oh, man! And here I thought you were asleep! Wait a minute, where are you?" He let his back pack drop to the floor and flipped on the lights, safe since the sentinel wasn't ? evidently ? home to complain about the noise.

Jim heard the soft thud and allowed another smile to cross his face. "I heard that, Chief. Better check your laptop, I heard something rattle." At his roommate's soft curse he laughed. "Just kidding. I got caught up in an investigation, I'm at the Cascade Arms and thought I'd give you a call."

"You need my help? I can get there in about ten minutesÖ"

"I need your help, but not that way. It's a simple B&E. But we're going to have an overnight guest, get the couch ready and do me a favor?"

Blair had started to putter around the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. "Okay, sure. What?"

"Change the sheets on my bed, I'll be putting our guest in my room."

He nearly choked on the water he had in his mouth. Swallowing it he asked, "What? Why?"

"I'll explain when we get there. Look, the evidence team just showed up, I'll see about getting out of here and we should be there, hopefully no later than one, maybe two o'clock."

"Okay, I'll have everything done. You need dinner? I know it's late, butÖ"

"No, we ate earlier. Thanks. But you might want to brew up some coffee, you might be awake a while after I get there."

"Oh? Why? Is our guest a woman? A good looking woman?" Blair knew he was digging, but he was wondering who could get Jim to give up his bed for the couch.

"Nice try, Chief. You'll find out when we get there." Jim nodded at Serena as she led the evidence team into room 1028. "Look, I got to go. I'll call back if we're going to be delayed."

"Okay, see you in a little bit." Blair disconnected and headed up to the detective's room and stripped the bed. "I just hope that she's good looking, Jim. I can't think you'd give up your bed to a guy."

Jim hung up with Blair and wandered back into the room. Now he had to convince McConnel of his plan. But it looked as if it would be a while before he could talk to her about it. He settled in against the door, watching the team go to work, Jons technique for pulling memories from a witness, and Caragh's reactions to strangers pawing her stuff.

Present Time

Caragh was not a happy camper. The evidence team was being very careful, but they sere still getting the dark fingerprint powder everywhere. She winced as one of the technicians sneezed, scattering even more powder. She concluded her statement, "ÖAnd that's when Detective Ellison placed the call to your dispatch. Then we waited for you and Officer Jacks to arrive. You know the rest."

Sergeant Jons closed his notebook and smiled at his witness, she had been very observant judging from her statement, but then she was also a cop and a trained observer. "Thank you, Dr. McConnel. I have to agree with your assessment that the break in here and the incident at your plane have to be connected. I'll pass all the info to my Lieutenant and see what he says, but I'm thinking that your case will end up in the hands of either Burglary or maybe even Major Crimes." He looked up to see Detective Ellison pinching the bridge of his nose, as if trying to stifle a sneeze or stave off a headache. "Ain't that right, Ellison?"

Jim willed the tickling sensation away from his sinuses and dropped his hand from his face as he answered, "Maybe. Depends on your report. Look, she's had a rough day and I got arrangements made for a safe house, you done here?"

"I am. Serena? You need anything from Ms. McConnel?"

The chief technician looked up from the carpet near the bathroom that she was inspecting. "No. I think I've got everything I need. We're done with the closet and your luggage if you want to pack something." She shrugged an apology to the woman whose stuff she and her team had gone through looking for trace evidence. "We'll be here for a while longer if you remember something you forgot, and we'll get it to you at whatever location Ellison has gotten for you."

Caragh nodded. "Thank you. I'll just pack a small bag and then we can get out of here. I'll be just a few minutes, Jim."

Jim nodded and decided to wait out in the hall, the dust that Serena's team was stirring up was really getting to him. He had been standing outside only about five minutes when Caragh came out carrying her small overnight bag and her ever present Ö

"Mike, just what is that? It looks like a half finished backpack, or a purse with delusions of grandeur."

Caragh laughed as she pulled the item in question higher on her shoulder. "It's called a 'Healthy Back Bag.' It's designed to put less strain on your shoulders and back. Even when you load it like I do. I've had it for about a year and love it, it's a heck of a lot better than the back packs I hauled around Rainier." They reached the elevator and waited for the car to arrive, the doors sliding open just as she thought to ask, "So, am I to end up in a safe house or another hotel?"

"A safe house, of sorts." Jim was hoping to hold off on this conversation until they were in the truck. But.

"Of sorts? What kind of response is that?"

Trying to stall for time, he reached out and relieved her of her overnight case, which was heavier than he thought it could be. "Jeez, you moved your rock collection, didn't you?"

"Funny, Ellison," she snapped back. "You're avoiding the subject."

"And you need to finish your story. I find it hard to believe that your family got to the States before any other European."

The doors opened to the lobby level and Caragh pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against following him out of the elevator and towards the parking garage entrance. "You're still avoiding the subject, and the evidence is there if the archaeologists would ever stop to think about it."

Jim reached his truck, unlocking the passenger side, putting the bag he was carrying in the bed, then going around to the driver's side. He didn't answer her until they were both in the cab and he was pulling out of the garage.

"I'm taking you to my place. It's the best I could come up with on short notice."

Caragh sat in silence, watching the passing landmarks, realizing that they were heading deeper into the city and fairly close to Rainier University. She noted the name of the street he turned onto off of Rainier Drive. "Your place, huh? Hope your wife doesn't mind."

"No wife, just a roommate, and I already called and told him."

"Him? Let me guess, you live with another cop?"

Jim turned into the parking area by the loft, parked and looked over at her. "Yeah, he's also a college student. You might know him, Blair Sandburg?"

Caragh jumped in her seat. "Blayre!? You live with Blayre? I bet he's driving you crazy!" She opened her door and jumped out of the truck, clutching her bag. "He used to drive me crazy back in school. I was forever picking up behind him, or telling him to turn his music down."

Jim came around and picked up her bag from the truck bed. "Sounds like you know from experience?"

"Jim, the stories I could tellÖBut I won't. It wouldn't be fair to Blayre or you." She followed him into the building and into the old service elevator.

"I noticed that you say his name a little differently, why is that?"

"Oh, just a habit. I got to calling him by his Gaelic name the first year he was here at Rainer. Most folks never hear the tonal difference." They stepped off the elevator and she turned back to face him. "Did you tell him that it was me that was going to be your house guest?"

Jim stopped as she was blocking his path. "No. I thought maybe you might want to surprise him."

Going up on her toes, she planted a kiss on the sentinel's cheek. "Thank you, and yes, I would. I had been planning on trying to catch him at campus, but never made it over there."

Blushing, he smiled at the sweet expression on his 'guest's' face. "You're welcome." He stepped around her and went to open the door to his apartment. Before he pushed it open, he nodded for her to step to the side, to hide from view, then swung the door open.

"Chief! We're here!" He dropped Caragh's bag near the table and tossed his keys into the basket.

Blair came dodging out of his room. "Jim! Okay, why couldn't you tell me on the phone who this mystery lady is?"

"Because, it wouldn't have left you looking for clues, and how do you know it's a lady, Chief?"

"It's not?"

Caragh couldn't stand it anymore, being this close to her friend and not being able to see him. She stepped into the doorway. "Actually, I've been called many things, but never a lady."

Blair stood frozen to the floor in shock, his eyes going wide as he stared at the woman. Dressed in a dark gray trench coat, dark green sweater under that, black jeans and boots, coffee colored hair spilling over her shoulder and down her backÖ She hadn't changed much in the past seven to eight years. "MIKE!" Spell broken, he ran up to her and pulled her into a fierce bear hug.

She barely had time to see him before being pulled into the fierce hug, which she returned, just as hard as he gave it, then she released him, pushing him out to arm's length. "Blayre, Cub, it's so good to see you." Caragh felt tears threatening to spill, the joy of seeing her younger 'brother' overwhelming. And he looked good. The tiny lines around his blue eyes showing to her what others could miss ? the years had been hard, but he still had that inner fire.

Her hair was a bit longer, but not much, her hug just as powerful as it had ever been. Blair took in her appearance, the worn look to her face, the bright green eyes. "Caragh, It's been too long, but I'm glad you're here." He glanced over her shoulder to where Jim was shutting the door, making it secure. "Even if it is under less than ideal conditions."

Caragh shrugged. "I know. Sorry about this, I don't mean to intrudeÖ"

"Nonsense, Mike." Jim answered from the doorway where he was hanging up his coat. "I wouldn't have brought you here if you weren't welcome." To further illustrate his point, he came over, took her back bag from her and then helped her out of the gray trench coat. As he turned to hang up the coat Jim looked at his roommate. "So, Chief, what would the ideal conditions have been for your reunion?"

Blair looked over at him again, tearing his eyes away from Caragh. "Oh, I don't know, maybe a convention where we were both scheduled to lecture? Or an expedition?"

Caragh chuckled. "That would've been my choice too, but Lady Fate has a nasty way of playing us mortals for fools." She stepped away from Blair and looked around the spacious apartment, noting the touches that had to be her friend's influence, the neatness that she could never instill in him had to be Jim's touch. Glancing towards the kitchen, her own sense of smell kicked in. "Is that coffee I smell?"

Blair nodded. "Sure is, want a cup?"

"Please." She looked around again, feeling a bit uncomfortable, not sure what to do next.

Jim had moved into the kitchen and was pulling down three mugs, which Blair filled, adding sugar and cream to one, just a touch of cream to another, leaving the last one black. That one was his. Watching as his partner carried the other two mugs into the living room, he called out to their guest, "Mike, pick a spot and sit. That's what couches and chairs are for."

She took the mug that Blair handed her. "You remembered?" She then sat down on the edge of the couch that faced the kitchen area. "Thank you."

Blair answered as he sat down next to her. "Of course. After you reamed me that one time for putting sugar into your cup on that trip out to Chaco Canyon, you think that I'd ever forget?"

Jim came into the room and took the chair that faced the couch they were on, and the loft's door. "You reamed him? That must've been a sight to behold."

Caragh could feel the blush creeping up on her face. "It wasn't that bad. I just can't stand sugar in my coffee. And it was way too early for civilized humans to be up and about with as much energy as the cub was displaying. That's all. I woke up on the wrong side of my sleeping bag." She smiled as she said it, looking over at her college mate, noticing for the first time the electric blue tee shirt with the blue flannel shirt over that. She sipped her coffee thinking, ëAt least he finally realized what his best color is. Brings out his eyes. Bet he has to beat the co-eds off with a stick, maybe a baseball bat.í

"Yeah, right, Mike. Jim, just remember, while she's here, how long will that be anyway? Don't wake her up without having brewed a large pot of coffee. She probably still wakes up meaner than a snake." Blair looked over to his friend and roommate, the silence from both of them telling. "Okay, so why is Mike here in the first place? Not that I'm complaining, but it's odd."

At Caragh's barely noticeable nod, Jim caught his partner up on the events of the day, leaving out only Caragh's revelation about herself and her family. When he finished talking, his coffee was gone and he got up to refill the mugs, taking care to make sure he put the same amount of cream in Caragh's mug before returning. "And now you know why I got delayed and why I decided that she was better off staying the night here."

Blair was jumping in his seat. "Cool. I mean, not cool, but you know." He turned to face his old friend. "Did you bring the book with you? I'd love to see it."

"I brought it." Caragh answered and reached down beside the couch where she had put her backpack. Pulling it into her lap, she unzipped the main compartment and pulled out the old leather bound book. "Here, read to your heart's content, Cub." She handed over the book and stood up. "I hate to bother you, but where's the head?" Blair didn't answer, his head already buried in the book, his eyeglasses appearing from his pocket and going to his face in an unconscious gesture.

Jim chuckled. "You've been living with a Marine too long. It's down the hall, first door on the right." He watched as she disappeared down the hallway, then got up again. "Chief? Any thing in the 'fridge that I should stay away from?" He had the munchies, despite the rather large meal that he'd consumed earlier.

Blair never looked up. "Uh, no. I don't think so." Flipping through the pages, he was lost in the writings of Blackie Wilkins.

Opening the refrigerator, he located a chunk of white cheddar and pulled it out, taking a knife to it, he sliced off a sizable piece. He waited in the kitchen until he heard his guest coming back down the hall. Reaching out, he touched her on the sleeve, grabbing her attention. She didn't even jump. "Mike," he whispered so that Blair wouldn't hear, "You gonna tell him the rest?"

Caragh looked up into Jim's eyes, then back towards where Blair sat pouring over the book she'd handed him. Keeping her voice low, she said, "I should, but I'm afraid of his reaction. He'll be upset that I kept the secret from him. Especially since I could've corroborated his Sentinel thesis."

Jim looked at his roommate, wondering if she was right, that Blair would be mad at her. "Maybe. But then again, he understands about keeping secrets. We both learned the hard way."

Caragh nodded. "I know. I followed the news when it broke. My heart bled for him, and you. Then when he came out with that statement that the entire thing was fiction, I believed him. But earlier, at the airport, when I felt that, shock, I knew that he'd lied to protect you. And it almost cost him his career."

"But we survived, and he's getting his career back on track. Mike, he deserves to know."

She nodded. "You're right."

Blair came up for air, closing the book, looking over to the kitchen where his two friends where huddled together, whispering. "Hey, guys. What's all the whispering for?" He caught the look that Jim gave Caragh, the carefully raised eyebrow that spoke volumes to him. The look that said, 'Well?'

Caragh merely nodded and walked back over to the couch and sat down next to her fellow Guardian, or Guide. "Cub, have you finished the book already?"

"Mostly. Scanned it for the most part. If this fellow was right, then he had discovered a Sentinel and his guide ? in your hometown." Blair turned the book over in his hands. "Wilkins. Wilkins. Hey, wasn't that the name of the murder victim back in Arkansas?"

Nodding, she answered, "Yes. Blackie's grandson and my mentor. Arturos Wilkins. Blair, I have something I need to tell you." She took her courage in her hands and then felt the presence of Jim Ellison, Detective, and according to her beliefs, a Protector.

Blair noticed that Jim had moved into a position of support for Caragh, much like he would've for himself. "Mike? Caragh? What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, chewing on her lower lip for a second, the answer came to her lips. "I'm glad you found your Sentinel, Shaman."

He managed to not quite jerk away from her, but his shock was evident. "What?!?"

She reached out and grasped his right hand in hers. "Blair, I've known for a long time what you were to be. A Shaman. And that you were searching for your Protector, your Sentinel. When I met Jim earlier, I realized that all that flap about your doctoral thesis was a large dose of the truth, until you claimed to have made it all up. You did your duty, Cub. You Guarded your Protector, taking all that BS to save Jim from those that would've sought to exploit him."

Blair stared at her, his mind going a mile a second, trying to come up with an answer that she would, hopefully, accept. ëShe can't really know, can she? Cover up, back track, think about what you just read, Blair. She could know, but then that would meanÖí He brought his head up to look at Jim who was standing just behind Caragh. He caught the sentinel's eyes, not voicing the question, but getting an answer all the same. Jim nodded. Bringing his attention back to his friend he voiced what he hoped was the answer she was looking for. "Mike, I really don't know what you're talking about. Oh, sure that flap last year about that work of fiction that Naomi discovered, thinking it was my thesis, was rough, but it was just that. Fiction." As the last word left his mouth, he saw her emotions rise to her face, the worst one being pain. He cringed as she spoke up.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." She stood back up and looked over towards the detective. "Jim? I'm rather tired and if I'm staying here, could you point me in the right direction of a bed? Or a couch? I'm not real picky right about now." Even to herself, Caragh's voice sounded flat. Emotionless.

Jim knew what Blair was doing, and while he understood, he didn't approve. "Sure, Mike. Follow me." He led the way up to the loft and his bed, which thankfully his guide had remade. He dropped his voice to a low whisper, "I'm sorry about that, Mike. I'll talk to him, try to make him understand."

Caragh dropped her bags down on the large bed, then followed them. Looking up at the man that looked so much like her husband, she smiled wanly. "No, Jim. Don't. He'll either come around on his own or he won't." She glanced at her watch. "I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to get back to the hospital as early as possible. I can grab a cab in the morningÖ"

"No. I'll take you." Jim looked at her. ëDamn, she looks like she's been kicked in the gut.ë "I'll leave you to your rest. Will four hours be enough? We can get to the hospital by eight then."

"That'll be fine. Thanks, Jim."

"No problem." He walked back over to the stairs and left her to herself.

Realizing that there wasn't much she could do to stop the detective from talking to Blair, she sighed, stood up and stripped off her jeans and sweater, leaving only her long sleeved tee shirt on and crawled into the bed. She could tell that the sheets had been changed, but there was still the rather disturbing smell of the regular occupant lingering on the comforter and pillows. Hearing mutters coming from the living area below the bedroom, she wished that for once, she had been the one in the family blessed with the Protector's abilities. Then again, maybe not. Most female Protectors went crazy after a while. Especially after giving birth to a child. In the history of the Clan and Tribe, there was only one female Protector who never went over the deep end. Tyler. The first Protector of the combined Clan and Tribe. The only one who had more than one Guardian, she had the twins. Fire in Soul and Soul of Fire. Healer and Hunter. She married Soul of Fire and lived a long productive life, giving birth to another Protector. Who she named Diarmut Michaels. With that final thought and the rather distinctive smell of this other Protector, or Sentinel, in her nose, she fell into a light sleep.

Jim came back down the stairs and found Blair getting the last of the coffee in the kitchen. He still had the book that Caragh had handed to him; it was open and lying on the countertop. Shaking his head, he walked up behind the anthropologist. Out of respect for how tired Caragh had to be, he once again kept his voice low. "Chief, she's telling the truth."

Blair nearly jumped out of his skin. Jim had a habit of sneaking up on him, but this time, it was him that felt guilty about it. "Who? Mike? How can she know, Jim? Tell me that and I'll try to believe her. And if she had access to this kind of information, why didn't she tell me about it sooner? Like after I published my Master's Thesis?" He closed the book, grabbed up his refilled coffee mug and headed over to the dining table. "Damn it, she had to have known that I wasn't going to give up, she could've helped, but she kept silent. And then she left. A phone call from home, how they tracked her all the way to the Navajo Reservation I'll never know, but after talking for about ten minutes, she walked over to Professor Anderson and in the hour was gone. And she never came back. Oh, she called or wrote once in a while, just to keep in touch, but she never let on that she knew that my thesis was not only possible, but probable. That she'd ever heard of Sentinels outside of Burton's work."

Jim let the younger man rant, since he was doing it quietly, and just listened to him. "She knew what I was the moment we touched out at the Airport. She called me a 'Protector' and then changed it to 'Sentinel.' Back at her hotel room, she told me who she really is." In his mind, the jaguar let out a warning hiss, he ignored it to watch his roommate.

Blair locked eyes with the Sentinel. "Oh, really? And just what might that be? Don't tell me she's another Barnes." Cause I know that she's not, I tested her back in school. But what else could she be?

"Chief, remember our dreams from this morning, or should I say yesterday morning?" The younger man nodded. "Do you recall me saying that while I wasn't getting any strange sentinel vibes, that I wondered if the dream was because there was another guide in the area?"

He nodded again. "Jim, man, spit it out. This bush beating is driving me crazy!" Blair managed not to yell, but it was hard.

Jim focused on the loft above him, listening for the heartbeat of their guest, and realizing that she was sound asleep, turned his attention back to his partner. "Caragh's a Guardian, a Guide. She was able to assist me like you do, when I went over the crime scene that had been her hotel room." His hearing changed focus, going to his guide, and was alarmed to hear that heart literally skip a beat, then set to racing.

Blair sat back in his chair, his mind once again racing. Pulling the book back into his hands, he opened up to the back, the part that he hadn't gone over really well. Reading the last few paragraphs, he caught the names. Michaels. Caragh's ancestor? ëOh, God. I wonderÖí "She pulled you out of a zone?"

"Yeah, I was doing that piggyback trick we've used in the past to keep from zoning, but I did anyway." He shook his head. "She did it much like you do, voice and touch. I think that Mike has worked, or is working, with a sentinel. She really knew what she was doing."

"You shouldn't have been able to zone out while using two senses, it should've kept you grounded." Blair leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "So, she's a guide?"

"I think so, yeah."

"And this book," he tapped his fingers on the item, "it's about her ancestors? Oh man, with the info that's in here, anyone with half a brain could track down the descendants of the original team."

Jim nodded. "I kinda got the impression that one of the duties of a Guardian, Mike's duties, are to protect the Protector. She's got a personal stake in finding out why someone is after this book and others like it."

"And if she is one of these 'Guardians', then she couldn't have told me anything about her family." Blair looked over his shoulder up to the loft where his friend was sleeping. "I think I understand now."

Standing up, Jim made his way over to the couch and the pile of linens that Blair had stacked on the end table earlier that evening. "Good. Talk to her in the morning. Right now she's sound asleep and we should be too." Shaking out a sheet and then a blanket, he kicked off his shoes, stripped down to his pants and his undershirt and lay down on the couch. "Go to bed, Chief."

"Yeah, sure Jim." Blair shuffled off to his room, turning off lights as he went. At the door to his room, he called out softly, "Good night," and closed the door behind him as he entered the room. Sitting down on the bed, he opened the book in his hands again, intending to read it more thoroughly. He wasn't even aware when, hours later, Jim padded into his room, took the book out of his hands, laid it on his desk, then turned out the light.

Jim lay on the couch, listening to the heartbeat of his Shaman and his guest, trying to relax enough to sleep. ëIt's strange. Not only do they look similar, their hearts beat nearly the same and their smell is close enough that they could be brother and sister.í He slept for a little while, but then got the urge to get up and check on his guide. Finding the younger man asleep, he carefully pulled the book from lax hands, placed it on the desk, turned out the small table lamp and pulled the comforter over the sleeping man. Coming out of the room, he focused his hearing again, and was rewarded with the soft sounds of bed clothing rustling as Caragh shifted in her sleep. Lying back down on the couch, he finally relaxed enough to fall into a light sleep, not so deep as to not be able to react to any threats that might occur, but deep enough to be considered sleep.

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