Blair watched Ellison's retreating back until the doors closed and blocked his view. Shaking his head with a soft sigh, he turned to the woman who had been a silent witness to the outbreak of violence in the ER waiting room. "Dr. Twofeathers, can I please see my wife?"

"Sandburg, in case you don't get it, you're under arrest," Simon growled.

The obstetrician straightened to her full 5'4" and glared at the police captain. "I don't know who in the hell you are, mister, but this man's wife is about to undergo emergency surgery. I need to speak with him about her care, and I would think even people as cold- hearted as the bunch of you would let him see her, just in case . . ." Her voice trailed off as she realized what she had been about to say.

The silence was broken by the sound of Blair swallowing loudly. "I need to see Drea."

"Of course, right this way, Mr. Sanborn." Ramona put a guiding hand on his shoulder and led the handcuffed man into the examining room.

Blair went immediately to his Sentinel's side, bending to press his lips to her forehead. "How are you doing, honey?"

Drea's hand came up to touch his face, feeling the rapidly darkening bruise on his cheek. "What did they do to you, babe? I tried to come help you but . . . they wouldn't let me get up." She glared at the medical personnel scattered around the room.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. But Dr. Twofeathers was just going to explain what they need to do to help you." He straightened up, his now free hand reaching for Drea's, the unlocked cuff dangling from his wrist. "Doctor?"

Ramona blinked, then shook her head. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The instant the Shaman had touched his wife's hand her whole aura had changed, glowing brighter, as if his presence energized her. She had heard of such couples, but had never seen one herself. A Shaman/Warrior pair bond. When this was over, when his wife and child were okay, she would love to have a long talk with Blair Sanborn.

"Dr. Twofeathers? Is Drea going to be all right? Is our daughter going to be okay?"

She shook herself. "Uh, yes, well, as you know, Mrs. Sanborn suffered a gunshot wound to the upper right chest quadrant, resulting in a partially collapsed lung, which we've treated by inserting a chest tube. The bullet is still lodged in her chest, and she will require surgery to remove it and repair the damage. Unfortunately, the trauma of the injury has sent her into labor."

As if to emphasize her point, Drea's hand tightened around Blair's and she let out a little gasp. He leaned over her again, stroking her forehead, speaking to her so softly that Ramona couldn't make out the words. Whatever he had said to her worked, though, she breathed through the pain, and relaxed again as the contraction passed.

The doctor cleared her throat, bringing the couple's attention back to her. "As I was saying, Mrs. Sanborn is in the early stages of labor. What we'd like to do is take the baby now, by c-section, and then remove the bullet. Even though she's stable right now, the longer labor goes on, the more risk there is to her and your child."

Blair felt the knot in his stomach rise to his throat. He couldn't lose them. "Doctor, can I have a moment alone with her?"

Nodding, Ramona slipped out of the room, followed by the rest of the technicians. Blair leaned over Drea again. "I'm sorry. I know this wasn't what we planned . . ." It was too soon; she hadn't been due for another two weeks. That should have been plenty of time for them to complete their task in Cascade, and return to their home in Costa Rica. Their daughter should be born in the safe, comfortable surroundings they'd prepared, not within the harsh, sterile walls of Cascade General.

"It's okay, it's okay, babe," she answered him, sensing his thoughts. "Mica's a lot like me, she's impatient; she wants out now. It'll be fine, Blair, really it will."

"I . . . they probably won't allow me to be with you . . . and I have to be there . . ." He couldn't even to begin to imagine the shock the infant would feel, being ripped from her mother's safe womb and thrust into the bright lights and loud sounds of an operating room. At that moment she would need his talents the most. His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the doctor.

"Have you reached a decision?" she asked.

Blair nodded, as he clasped his partner's hand tightly. "Yes, go ahead with the c-section. Only, I have to be present." At the woman's raised eyebrow, he hastily said, "I know that's not normal procedure, but well, we're not normal. We, uh, our religious beliefs, um . . . I need to be there, to bless the child, at the moment of birth, so she doesn't go through life with permanently bad karma . . ." Well, that was a lousy explanation.

Dr. Twofeathers stared at the two of them for a moment, then said, "I don't have a problem with that, Shaman, but you'll have to sign a waiver releasing the hospital from all responsibility if something untoward should happen due to your presence."

"Sure, fine . . . what did you call me?"

Ramona smiled at him. "What you are. Shaman, bound to a Warrior." She nodded in Drea's direction. "My tribe has legends about your kind, though many years have passed since such a pair has been born. I understand completely your concern for your child. A child of such a union is rare, and even rarer if they possess the best of both parents, which I can see from your expression, you know she does." At his startled look, she added, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

A long sigh of relief escaped his lips. "Thank you, Doctor. Now what do we need to do?"

"Mrs. Sanborn is going to be prepped for surgery, and you need to sign the paperwork, and scrub up." Blair kissed Drea tenderly before following the obstetrician out of the room. They entered the outer area to find Simon, Rafe and Brown impatiently waiting. Rafe had taken the time to get treated; a bandage covered his nose, and he held an ice pack to his darkening eye.

"All right, Sandburg," Simon snapped, "you've seen your wife, now it's time you headed downtown." He glared at him as he noticed the thief was once again free of the handcuffs.

Panic clutched at Blair. He couldn't go now, he couldn't. "Simon, please, I have to be there for Drea, for our daughter. Dr. Twofeathers has agreed to let me be with Drea when Mica is born." He leaned closer to the tall man, lowering his voice so that only he could hear. "She's a sentinel, like her mother. A Guide has to be there, I have to be there," he pleaded fervently. He stepped back, gazing up at Banks, his eyes hopeful.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Damn it, why did these kinds of decisions always fall to him? And Jim was off somewhere sulking . . . He looked back at the younger man, recognizing in his eyes the thoughts and emotions he'd felt years ago when Daryl was being born. He couldn't really arrest him for the attempted museum robbery until forensics connected Blair to the crime, and the warrant from the theft of the nerve gas, that was federal . . . And maybe, maybe if he let him have this time, if he allowed him this privilege, Blair would think twice before filing a civil suit against the PD and Jim Ellison. "Fine, Sandburg, you can be with her. But as soon as she's out of surgery, you have an appointment in booking. No funny stuff, understand? We're going to be right outside the OR."

The guide gave him a mock salute, the dangling handcuff nearly hitting him in the eye. "Give me that," Simon growled, using his key to remove it. He watched as Blair followed one of the nurses to get suited up. Turning around, he found his two detectives shaking their heads at him. "I don't want to hear it," he admonished. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get it into his head to wander off, not that I think he would. She's too important to him."

"Where are you going, sir?" Rafe asked.

"To find Ellison before he does something else he's gonna regret." With those words, he headed out of the ER in search of his friend.

Outside the hospital doors, Simon paused to pull a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, and lit it. Taking a couple soothing puffs to calm his frazzled nerves, he went looking for Jim. He found him a few minutes later, kneeling next to his pickup, his head bowed. "Jim? You okay?"

He heard the sentinel take a long shaky breath, then he lifted his head to look up at the other man, his eyes glistening. "How is she?" he asked hoarsely.

Banks shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I guess. They're doing a c-section on her now."

"Oh, god," Jim whispered, his head dropping again. "This is my fault . . ."

Simon squatted next to his friend, his hand going to his shoulder. "Jim, you have to believe she's going to be all right, that the baby's going to be all right."

"That's what I'm praying for . . ."

"Look, I know you went over this with the officers at the scene, but can you tell me what happened? What in the world were you doing at the museum in the first place?"

Getting to his feet slowly, Jim leaned his back against the truck. "I had a dream. I dreamed I saw the spotted jaguar, Alex's spirit animal, at the museum, so I went there. One of the guards there used to be on the force, and he let me in to look around. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up outside, and Blair was leaning over me. I couldn't believe it was him, Simon. I grabbed his arm, and then I heard her voice. I don't know what I was thinking, I don't even know if I thought it was real, or if I was dreaming. All I knew was she had taken Blair away from me once, and I wasn't going to let her do it again. So I shot her . . ."

The captain nearly bit through his cigar. "I hope that's not what you told the officers on the scene. God forbid IA should ever hear that story."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jim hunched his shoulders. "I didn't know what else to tell them, Simon. And once this gets out, even if Blair doesn't sue the department, I don't think I'll be long for this job anyway. I've fucked up way too many times this year. I've used up all my second chances. And you know what really bothers me? It's that because of me, Alex and Blair got caught. If she lives, they may both end up going to prison, and who's going to raise their child then?" He closed his eyes. "Prison will kill Blair . . ."

"Jim, Blair made the choices that brought him to this point by himself. He didn't have to go with Alex, maybe at first he didn't have a choice, but we both saw what happened in the jungle. That was not a man who was trying to escape a kidnapper. You are not responsible for this."

"Are you sure of that? I was the one who sent him away, told him I didn't need him, didn't want him around. You were there, you asked me if I could do the Sentinel thing all by myself. You were right, I couldn't. But by the time I figured that out, it was too late." He turned to face his superior. "But what if it's the same for Blair? What if he needed a sentinel as much as I needed a guide? What if that's why he helped Alex, why he didn't escape?"

Taking off his glasses, Simon rubbed his temple. He needed an aspirin. "That's just great, Jim. That'll make a really good defense for both of you. Sorry, your honor, I helped her steal that nerve gas because my instincts told me to. Sorry, I shot an unarmed suspect, but it was programmed into my genes." He snorted. "I don't think the world's ready for that idea. I know I'm not."

Jim shook his head. "I know one thing. No matter what happens, Alex, Blair, and I are all screwed."

The other man had no answer to that. He simply smoked his cigar, and kept his friend company while Jim contemplated his fate.

Blair finished changing into surgical scrubs, and followed the nurse who had accompanied him to surgery. He entered the room hesitantly, uncertain of what he would find within. To his relief, he saw Dr. Twofeathers already standing by her patient, another surgeon beside her. Drea was lying on the operating table, her stomach covered in antibacterial wash. Blair tried not to visualize what was about to happen. He really didn't want to watch them cut into his wife, even if it did mean saving their daughter.

"Mr. Sanborn," Ramona said, "why don't you go stand up by your wife's head. We've given her a local anethesthetic, and a pre-surgery sedative, so she's going to be very groggy. Once we get your daughter out, we'll put her completely under, and Dr. Manners here will take over."

Nodding he understood, Blair moved to Drea's side, rubbing her cheek gently, whispering to her softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the obstetrician making the incisions, and very quickly she was holding his child in her hands. After her nose and mouth were suctioned out, Mica began to wail. "Hear that, Drea," he said to the sentinel, "that's our baby, our little girl."

Drea's eyes began to slide shut. "Mica . . . Blair, love you, babe . . ." she managed to say, before she was completely out.

"Mr. Sanborn, would you like to hold your daughter?"

Turning his attention away from her unconscious mother, he held out his arms, and the small, screaming bundle was handed to him. He held her close to his chest, hoping the steady rhythm of a Guide's heart would calm her. Almost immediately, her crying ceased, and her tiny eyes opened, her wide blue orbs staring into his own as he leaned over her, shielding her from the strong light overhead. "Welcome to the world, Mica," he breathed for her ears alone, then as he looked up, he saw he had slipped into a vision.

The jungle surrounded him as he stood atop the temple of the Sentinel, painted and garbed as a Shaman, his child in his arms, the golden jaguar sprawled in exhaustion on the steps behind him. Lifting the babe to the heavens, he presented her to the universe, asking for blessings from the four elements of earth, wind, fire and water, as well as the sun, moon, and stars. His prayer finished, the Shaman returned to the physical world to find Dr. Twofeathers staring at him, a look of amazement on her face.

The nurse gently took Mica from his arms and carried her off to be thoroughly checked over then sent to the nursery. The surgical team had surrounded Drea, and was preparing to go to work. Dr. Twofeathers gently grasped his arm and guided him out of the operating room. "Go up to the surgery waiting area and I'll come up to talk to you as soon as I finish here."

Nodding numbly, Blair watched her re-enter the OR, then turned to find Simon standing behind him. "Congratulations, Sandburg, you're a father." He felt the other man grasping his hand and shaking it firmly.

"Thanks, Simon," he finally managed, trying to keep his knees from buckling under him.

"Come on, kid, I'll take you out front." Seeing Blair's distress, Simon grabbed him by the elbow and led him to the waiting room, stopping long enough for him to discard the scrubs in a hamper.

Rafe and Brown were already in the room when the guide and the police captain entered. Frowning, Simon glanced around for Ellison. He raised an eyebrow at Brown who responded with "He's off somewhere pacing."

Leading Blair to a couch and pushing him into it, Simon asked, "You want anything to eat, drink, coffee, tea?"

Blair leaned his head against the back of the sofa, feeling exhaustion beginning to over take him. "Some tea, maybe."

Simon snapped his fingers, and Brown headed off in search of the requested item. "Anything else you need?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, just some quiet." Drawing his legs up onto the cushion, he sat cross-legged; closing his eyes and concentrating on his breathing, he sent himself into a light trance, needing the peace and solace to renew his strength.

As he settled into his meditation, Blair could feel the connection with his Sentinel. It was a bond that had begun to form the moment Alex had discovered she couldn't kill him at the fountain. It had grown over the week they had been on the run, finally being solidly forged by the joining ceremony at the temple in Sierra Verde. In the year that had passed since then, it had only become deeper, and broader, encompassing everything he was, everything she was, and the discovery of the child growing within her, had only been an added bonus. He liked to think of their bond like a tapestry, which began as individual threads on a loom, then through the passage of time and the talent of skilled weavers had turned into a beautiful, strong piece of cloth. And the wonderful thing was, it was continuing to evolve and change with every day.

A smile crossed his lips as he remembered the first frantic days after their journey to the temple. They had headed into the jungle after leaving the nerve gas in the hands of the sleeping Cascade PD officers. Surviving on what they could scrounge, they finally made it out, having crossed the border into a neighboring country. From there they had hired a plane to take them to Brazil, simply because it was Carnival time, and neither of them had been to it before. The money they'd taken from Carl had been transferred into several offshore accounts, and they had spent a couple weeks just enjoying Rio de Janeiro, getting to know each other, and planning their future together.

It had felt right to stay in Central America, and the choice of Costa Rica as their new home had been an easy one. The small country was known for its political stability, excellent health care and education systems, and boasted a large number of national parks and protected areas, as well as both Pacific and Atlantic coast beaches. All in all, a country in which a Sentinel and Guide could thrive and feel comfortable raising a family.

They bought a beautiful villa on the Pacific coast, in a small town an hour or so from the country's capital, and had settled down in their new identities of Blair and Drea Sanborn, an anthropological researcher and his artist wife. It had been Blair's idea to get married; he knew she needed the commitment from him to that part of their lives, and there was the added benefit that if their past ever caught up to them, neither could be forced to testify against the other. The ceremony had taken place on the beach in front of their home, as the sun was beginning to set over the water, and had been performed by the Shaman of the local tribe. Instead of rings, they had exchanged pendants made by Drea. They were silver and turquoise, and when joined together, formed the eye of god symbol from the temple.

The next six weeks had been spent exploring their new world, and each other. But, he had to admit, both their quick, inquisitive minds were beginning to stagnate in the quiet, lazy village, and when Drea called him to the front door one afternoon, he had welcomed the thought of visitors. What Blair hadn't expected was a native tribal chieftain, accompanied by four warriors, a shaman, and a translator, all dressed in ceremonial finery. After introductions had been made, and their guests made comfortable, they discovered they had come seeking the help of the Sentinel and the Guide.

Ten years ago, an archaeological expedition had come to the region of the jungle where the tribe was from, and excavated an ancient burial site. One of the items taken had been the burial urn of an ancient and powerful shamaness, whose bones were said to bestow fertility on her tribe. The urn had gone to museum in the US, and in the years since it had been gone, no children had been born in the small village, and the natives were in danger of dying out. One night, the village shaman had a vision of the Sentinel and Guide and knew they were the answer to the natives' prayers. The small party had followed his vision to Blair and Drea's doorstep.

After hearing their story, Blair and Drea spent the next day finding out all they could about the urn. The tribe had tried having the government petition the museum to return the bones, but their request had been languishing in the bureaucrats' hands for the past five years. Blair hadn't been quite sure how they were going to help their new friends, but Drea had known. They would steal the urn and return it to its rightful owners.

Once they had seriously begun researching the job, they discovered it would be fairly easy. The urn containing the shamaness' bones was moldering in storage at the museum. It had simply been a matter of breaking into the museum, and labeling the crate holding the artifact with the proper address. They'd then moved it to join a large shipment of relics going out the next day, and changed the computer manifest to reflect the extra item.

Thus had begun their life as antiquities thieves. After their first success, other tribes had come forward, asking for their help. Blair had been uncertain at first, as to whether or not he would be any good at it, but under Drea's expert tutelage he had learned just about everything there was to know about breaking and entering. And their Sentinel/Guide abilities had made them an unbeatable team. They had successfully completed four jobs, and the theft at Rainier was to have been their last, at least until after Mica had been born.

With a sigh, Blair came out of his trance, opening his eyes to find both Dr. Twofeathers and Dr. Manners entering the waiting room. Getting quickly to his feet, he crossed the small space toward them. "How is she? Is Drea going to be all right?"

"Well," Dr. Twofeathers began, "she came through the c-section just fine. Your daughter is also very healthy. We have her up in the nursery right now, and will keep her there until your wife is able to see her."

Dr. Manners picked up where the obstetrician had left off. "Mr. Sanborn, your wife was a very lucky woman. As you know, the bullet nicked the top of her lung, but amazingly, that's pretty much all the serious damage it did. We've repaired the tissue damage, and baring any complications, she should be out of here in a week or so."

Blair let out the breath he'd been holding, relief making him giddy. "When can I see her?"

"She's in recovery right now, and will probably be there for a couple hours. Once she's moved to a private room, you're welcome to see her."

Grasping Dr. Manners' hand, Blair shook it heartily. "Thank you, thank you so much!" The man nodded, then headed out of the room. "And thank you, Dr. Twofeathers. I know you bent the rules to allow me to be there when my daughter was born. And speaking of Mica, there're a couple things I need to tell you."

Blair glanced over his shoulder at Captain Banks. "Simon, you wanna come with us? Keep me in custody, so to speak?"

The tall man nodded, then followed the Native American physician and the Guide up to maternity, listening to Blair instruct the doctor on the care and feeding of a baby sentinel. They got off the elevator, and headed toward the nursery, as Blair was cautioning the doctor to be on the lookout for allergic reactions to just about everything, if the list he was rattling off was any indication.

Simon stood outside the nursery window as Blair was taken inside and helped into a smock, then given a seat in a rocking chair, and a nurse handed his daughter to him. The young man's face lit up as he cradled her in the crook of his arm, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, whispering softly to her. Once again Banks was reminded of his love for his own child. Pulling out a handkerchief, he removed his glasses and began cleaning them.

Feeling a presence at his shoulder, Simon turned to find Jim Ellison standing there, his gaze fixed on the guide and his daughter. "Thought you were going to go file your report."

Ellison shrugged. "I couldn't go. I had to know if I . . . if they were all right."

The taller man laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "They're both going to be fine according to the doctors."

Letting out a sight of relief, Jim said, "I'm glad. I don't know if I could live with myself, knowing my mistake had cost them their lives." His jaw clenched, then released. "Though now I know they're okay, I'm left with a lot of questions. Like why in the hell Blair and Alex came back to Cascade in the first place. And what were they doing at the museum if not robbing it?"

"I don't know, Jim, but I promise I will find out." Simon turned a determined gaze on Sandburg, watching as the man's head lifted for a second, his eyes widening slightly as he caught sight through the glass of the Sentinel standing beside him.

Blair cuddled Mica for a long moment, then passed her to the waiting nurse and rose from his seat. Stripping off the scrubs, he exited the nursery and crossed to the two police officers, his expression dark. His hand came up and he jabbed a forefinger at Ellison. "Stay the hell way from my wife and daughter!"

Stepping between the two men, Banks said, "That's enough, Sandburg. It's time for that little trip downtown. Think you can manage to behave yourself that long?"

The smaller man continued to glare at Jim for a few heartbeats, then nodded. He didn't resist when Simon put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push toward the elevator.

Webmaster: PJ Browning