Blair Sandburg was wet, and cold, and tired. Clapping his hand to his face, he was too late to completely muffle the sneeze that shook his lean frame. "Sorry," he whispered, wiping his nose on his already soaked sleeve.

"Damn it, Sandburg, you'll give us away," his partner growled back, parting the foliage enough to clearly see the narrow game trail winding through the mist-blanketed forest.

Blair sneezed again, and the third member of their party, Daryl Banks, handed him a somewhat dry bandana. "Thanks," he whispered to the young man, then turned his attention back to his sentinel. "Technically, I'm only giving you away, Jim, since I'm dead," he commented with a glance down at the bright orange paint spattered across his mottled camouflage shirt, "and Daryl is only here to referee."

Jim Ellison made a shushing motion at his guide, and dropped to the rain-soaked ground, his gun gripped firmly in one hand as he crawled through the underbrush toward his prey. A tight-lipped smile flickered across his face fleetingly as Megan Connor came into view.

Glancing around nervously, she clutched a small flag in one hand, and a weapon in the other. She also was soaked to the skin, and her racing heart and labored breathing gave away the fact that she'd been running for some time. A second heartbeat caught Jim's attention, and his keen eyesight picked out the tall form of his captain struggling to keep up. That left one person unaccounted for, but it really didn't matter. Connor had the prize; all he had to do was take it from her. Aiming carefully, the sentinel squeezed the trigger.

The splat sounded incredibly loud in the still forest, and the quiet was further shattered by Megan's exclamation. "Bugger it!" she yelled, staggering back a little under the impact of the paintball against her chest. Following the rules, she dropped to the ground, and lay still.

"Yes!" Jim hissed, breaking cover and crossing the short distance to the fallen guide. He plucked the pennant from her limp fingers, and sketched a little bow. "Guys win!" he chortled.

Megan's closed eyes snapped open, and a broad grin crossed her face. "That's what you think…"

Ellison was suddenly aware of a tall, lithe form dropping from the sky. He dove to the side, having to let go of the flag in order to bring his weapon to bear as he rolled. He squeezed off a shot in the direction of the threat, belatedly realizing the other sentinel was no longer there.

Her husky voice called to him from behind a tall pine. "Better start running, Jim. The game only ends when the target is returned to base." She waved said target once, then disappeared into the forest.

"Goddamn it, Dee," he cursed, getting to his feet. "Why can't you just admit you won and quit?"

Her laughter floated back toward him. "What, and not give you a chance to take it away from me?"

Growling, Jim headed after her.

Blair and Daryl rose from their hiding place and entered the clearing, as did Simon, who gave Megan a hand up from the ground.

Removing his glasses, the tall black man futilely wiped at the condensation on them. "Figures they'd be the only two left in the game. Tell me you didn't plan it this way, Sandburg."

Blair shook his head, grinning ruefully. "No, I didn't. I thought this would just be a good test of us as teams, to see how well we worked together in a battle situation. But it does support a theory of mine."

"And that would be, Sandy?" Megan asked, brushing leaves off her jacket.

"That I certainly want both of them fighting on the same side."

"Definitely," Daryl seconded, gazing in the direction the two sentinels had gone. "Man, Blair, where in the hell did she come from?" He ignored the look his father shot him at his language.

"The trees," Megan supplied helpfully. "I was the bait, and Jim took it."

Daryl stared at her, mouth open. "The trees! You mean the whole time you were walking up the trail, she was making like Tarzan?"

"Yep." Megan started to walk back toward the base, which was Simon's cabin. The three men followed her, Blair quickly drawing alongside.

"Okay, Megan, spill it. I want to know how you and Dee communicated. According to Jim, neither of you spoke a word from the moment we started this morning until now. Have you developed telepathy or something?"

She giggled. "Or something. We had two weeks to work on our plans. I took a crash course in an abbreviated form of sign language, something Dee calls battle speech." She moved her fingers rapidly through the air. "That means split up and flank them."

"Like you did to us when you 'killed' me." Blair shook his head in amazement. His lover was something else, and now that Dee had found a Companion in Megan, the two of them were a dangerous combination. He'd keep that in mind the next time he decided to pit Sentinel and Guide against Champion and Companion.

The trail they were following turned and ran along the edge of a steep ravine, and the chatter among the three men and one woman ceased as they shifted their attention to keeping their footing on the wet ground in the deepening gloom. The sound of fighting reached them as they approached the top of the path.

"What in the hell?" Simon exclaimed as they entered a small clearing. Jim's weapon lay on the ground next to the coveted flag, and he and Diandra were engaged in hand to hand combat.

Blair started to move toward them, intending to come between them, when he realized both of them were grinning from ear to ear, and they really weren't doing any serious damage to each other. Shaking his head at his companions to indicate not to interfere, Blair and the others watched the two warriors fight.

The Champion and Sentinel were evenly matched. What advantage Jim had over her in height and weight, Dee made up in speed and experience. But they were both tired, and their hearts really were no longer in it. She let his punch slide by her face, and gave a light tap to his stomach with her knee. He slipped in the mud, and Dee caught him, both of them laughing as they tried to stay upright.

Blair knew something was wrong when the expression on both their faces changed to fear. Jim shoved the Champion away from him as the earth crumbled underneath their feet. She grabbed for his arm, but his rain slick hand eluded her strong fingers, and he disappeared over the side of the ravine in a shower of dirt and debris.

Both guides raced to the edge, Megan pulling her partner out of harm's way, Blair flopping to his stomach to peer over the side. The sight of his soulmate's crumpled body lying thirty feet below sent an arrow through his heart. From somewhere down the mountain, a wolf's howl gave voice to Blair's agony.

The war had started out innocently enough, with the normal everyday occurrence of an argument between Sentinel and Guide. No, not between Blair and Jim, but between temporary partners Jim and Megan. That teaming had been Simon's brainchild; a way to keep his best detective in the field while his partner sat on his ass waiting for the startup of the next session at the Police Academy. Until Blair had completed police training, he was not allowed on the streets with Jim, as his partner, as a consultant, or as an observer. It was driving the anthropologist crazy.

Blair tapped his pencil against his teeth and squinted at the report on the screen. When Simon had proposed his little deal to him, Blair had protested, and this was the compromise. Since he was so good at paperwork, he was allowed to hang around the station and help Jim fill out his reports. That had worked okay, until both Megan and Jim had come off their mandatory desk duty after recovering from the injuries they'd received from Zeller. They had been out in the field together for the first time today, and the not knowing was making Blair nuts.

Warm hands descended on his shoulders, and strong fingers began to massage away the tension there. He jumped a little in his seat, then relaxed as a familiar voice said, "It's just me, Lobo. Goddess, you're tight. What's going on?"

He felt Diandra take a seat in Jim's chair, her hands never pausing their soothing motion. "Jim and Megan are out at a crime scene…"

"Annnnd?" Her voice was a seductive purr, and he could hear his lover inhale deeply, drinking in his scent.

"And I'm just worried, that's all." He swiveled his seat around to face her, finding her electric blue eyes twinkling in gentle humor at him.

The Immortal brushed her fingertips across his cheek, and Blair leaned into the touch. Since the whole fiasco with his dissertation, he'd come to rely on her more and more, her quiet strength and support the glue that had held him together as he'd faced the dissolution of his career and his relationship with Jim. Fortunately things on the Jim front were looking up, even if the same couldn't be said for his life's work. But he had options now, which was more than could be said a few weeks ago.

He brought his hand up to cover hers and she smiled as she caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his wrist. "I spoke to Joe today. You know he wants you to work for him full time…" The older man had been one of the first people to support Blair's decision to label his work a fraud. As Joe had told her, Blair's courage and selflessness had only endeared him to the Watchers. After all, if he would lie to prevent the world from discovering Sentinels, what would he do to protect Immortals? Blair had, as Joe so quaintly put it, "balls".

Blair's small headshake interrupted her reminiscing. "I know, I know, not without Jim. Are you sure Ellison won't reconsider Joe's proposal?"

The guide nodded. "I'm sure. He respects what you are, respects your way of life, but he wants no part of it and certainly no part of the tangled organization that is the Watchers. He says they remind him too much of covert ops, with the politicking and constant danger."

She slid their joined hands into her lap and gave his fingers a squeeze. "And being a cop isn't dangerous?"

He shrugged. "At least you don't have to worry about your colleagues coming after you if you screw up." He let out a sigh, and she realized talking about the Watchers was only increasing his bad mood.

"Okay, enough about that. Today's Jim and Megan's first day out in the field again. What are they investigating?"

Blair turned back to the computer screen, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Break in, I think, nothing major."

Leaning her chin on his shoulder, Dee said, "So why are you so worried?"

"Because it's my place, not Megan's. I'm Jim's partner, his guide, not her!" His voice was low, but vehement.

Her laughter startled him, and he turned to find her sitting back in her chair, waggling a finger at him. "What's so funny?" he asked with a scowl.

"You. I can't believe you're not cool with this, after all the times you've worked with me and Megan hasn't uttered a peep. It's okay, Lobo. Pajara is just doing her job, being a guide, watching her partner's back. It doesn't matter that today she's paired with Jim instead of me. It's what she does; it's what you do. She is not going to take your place. She couldn't, just as you can't take hers. Comprende?"

The corners of his lips twitched upwards in a small smile. "Si, quierida. Comprende." Leaning forward, he impulsively kissed her, then glanced around the bullpen to see if anyone was watching.

Henri gave him a wink from across the room. "Go, Hairboy!" he said gleefully.

Blair blushed crimson, and Dee shot the big detective a look, one eyebrow raised. "Watch it, H," she told him, "or Megan won't be bringing any of my baklava on potluck Friday." Brown quickly buried his nose in a file folder.

Satisfied her honor had been defended, Diandra gazed around the police station that was beginning to feel like a second home to her. She had become a familiar presence to the detectives of Major Crimes, stopping by a couple times a week to visit Blair. Her visits had become more frequent after the Zeller case, when she had dropped off and picked up a sling-wearing Megan each day. If any of the men had wondered at the sudden appearance of a history professor in their midst, they simply chalked it up to the Sandburg mystique. When word had gotten around the first of the year that the Inspector from Down Under was moving in with the professor, there had been a few raised eyebrows, but any rumors had been abruptly quashed by Diandra's open and ongoing relationship with Blair.

Joel Taggert entered the bullpen, and she waved at him, getting a genuine smile in return. She suspected he had guessed the truth about her and Megan, just as he had about Jim and Blair, but the subject had never come up in conversation, and she wasn't about to bring it up. He would guard their secrets with his life, as would most of the other men and women of Major Crimes, who had witnessed firsthand the destruction the leak of Blair's dissertation had almost wrought upon the two men. Thank the goddess that hadn't happened. She shuddered involuntarily, not even wanting to consider the consequences if it had.

She watched Blair work at the computer for a while, her hand lightly rubbing his back, keeping him grounded as they waited their partners' return. Her sensitive ears picked up the slightly raised voices before they were even off the elevator, and she smiled at the typical conversation they were having.

"All I'm saying, Connor, is you don't know what it's like. Military operations is a whole different mindset than police work. There are similarities, yes, but a military operation places more emphasis on…"

"Testosterone?" Dee mentally licked a finger and tallied up a point for her companion. "That's been my experience with the armed forces. All brawn, no brain. No finesse, no strategy, not in today's army. Whoever has the biggest booms wins."

Ellison entered the bullpen in front of her, chivalry be damned. "So you think you could outsmart me on the battlefield, then, hmm?" Taking off his jacket, he hung it on the coat rack and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the two people who had taken over his desk space. The grin on Diandra's face irritated him, as he suspected it was at his expense, and his guide, well... "Wipe that smile off your face, Chief, this is a serious discussion." Blair looked away, his muffled snickers still audible behind his hand.

Megan drew herself up to her full 5'9" and jabbed a finger at the sentinel's muscular chest. "Yeah, we'd beat the bloody pants off of you."

"We? When did this suddenly become we?"

The Aussie nodded, her auburn curls bouncing. "Yes, we." Her voice lowered, "Champion and Companion versus Sentinel and Guide." She raised it again for the benefit of Simon, who was walking in the door. "Women versus the men. Cop and academic versus cop and academic. That's fair, don't you think, Captain?"

Too late Simon Banks realized he'd been made part of a situation he knew nothing about. "All's fair in love and war," he managed, hoping to escape unscathed. No such luck.

"That's just what I'm talking about, sir, war. Diandra and myself against Ellison and Sandy in some kind of war games. You're just the person we need to referee." Megan attached herself to his elbow, blocking his escape route.

"Well, Connor, I really don't think I have the expertise…and Sandburg and Pallas might not agree to being drafted…" he stammered.

Blair blinked innocently. "I don't mind being drafted, do you Dee?" She shook her head. "In fact, it might prove a very interesting test of our skills."

"I'm all for it," Dee said. "It's been quite a while since I last kicked Ellison around." She gave him a feral smile.

Jim threw up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! I haven't agreed to this! What if I don't want to play?"

"How about we let Jim chose the game, and the weapons?" Blair glanced quickly from Dee to Megan, who both nodded. "We agree to that. Jim?"

The Sentinel's grin was decidedly wicked. "Capture the flag, and paintball. And just so we have an impartial judge, losers have to finish the repairs to Simon's cabin," he said, making reference to the damage it had sustained at the end of the Cristo case in November.

The tall man rubbed his hands together. "That, I can agree on. Now when is the next weekend everyone's free?"

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