Byron Mekket lifted his head from his book as Blair Sandburg walked into 
the classroom. From behind the pages of the book, he glared at Sandburg 
disgusted at what he saw.
 
*Your no guide, Sandburg.* And in the middle of Blair's lecture, Byron stood 
up and left through one of the back doors as quietly as he had entered. 
Blair did not notice the man who left.
 
Sometime later, Blair sat at his desk looking through the book he had 
received from the sale of an estate. The book was old, handwritten, but was 
a journal of one of Burton's friends, and according to the book fellow 
traveller. Burton's wife had destroyed a lot of Burton's work, mostly that 
which had anything to do with what the woman had though was inappropriate. 
Usually having to do with sex. The writer of the journal had had no wife to 
burn his words. However, the journal was badly written, the man barely able 
to spell his own name, much less put words into a coherent sentence, but the 
journal had mentioned sentinels even if it misspelled 'sentinel' several 
times, and at that moment was going into an account of story told to them by 
the shaman of the tribe they were studying. Blair barked a laugh at what 
the story seemed to be suggesting. *Jeez, this guy was stupid. Probably got 
the translation wrong, or just wrote it wrong. But it sure is funny.* Blair 
couldn't help it, the story giving him a mental picture of his own sentinel, 
sending the anthropologist off into gales of laughter. Finally, Blair put 
down the book. Nothing of interest in it, but it had given him a much needed 
laugh. He placed the book back in the locked case, and gathered the tests he 
needed to grade into his backpack, and went to go meet Jim at the station, 
still chuckling a bit.
 
Byron watched Blair Sandburg leave from where he sat in his Ford F-150. 
Fighting the urge to run the little punk over, Byron put his truck in gear 
and followed the Vovlo from the Rainier parking lot.
 
He drove past the garage entrance to the police station, while Sandburg 
drove inside. *You don't deserve a sentinel, Sandburg. Your a failure as a 
guide.* He sneered and drove away from the station to his hotel room.
 
At his door awaited a large man wearing a Chicago Bulls cap over his long 
blonde hair.
 
Byron stopped in front of the guy, and handed over an envelope filled with 
hundred dollar bills. "Bring him to me tonight. Alive, in reasonable 
condition. The plane will be waiting, fuelled and ready to go. The rest of 
the money will be waiting for you there."
 
The man nodded.
 
"No mistakes." Byron said firmly.
 
"No mistakes." the man agreed and took the money pushing the down button. 
He stepped into the open elevator.
 
Byron smiled and unlocked his hotel room with the passcard.
Byron sipped the delicate Chardonnay from the wine glass. Seated at the 
small dining table in his hotel room wearing a comfortable black robe, Byron 
sat his glass on the table, and cut the rib-eye steak with his knife, and 
took a bite. He glanced up when the man with the blonde hair and Bulls cap 
came out of the back bedroom.
 
"The plane leaves in an hour. Tell the pilot where you want to go. He will 
have the rest of the money for you." Byron told the man, who nodded and 
headed for the door.
 
Byron nodded to himself. The plane would explode in midair, and the Cascade 
PD would track their detective's kidnapper to the plane. They would believe 
the detective to be dead, and would never think to look in room 413 of the 
Cascade Imperial Hotel. With a smile, Byron went back to eating his steak. 
Time enough before the detective woke from the drug.
 
Blair Sandburg groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His head pounded 
rhythmnically along side his heartbeat, and Blair wished he had a pain dial.
"Easy, Sandburg." Simon's voice said.
 
The voice brought memory resurging and Blair opened his eyes and tried to 
sit up. Try being the operative word. The room spun, and his vision turned 
black at the edges and the anthropologist was forced to lay back down or 
pass out.
 
"Jim?" Blair asked, though already knowing the answer.
 
"Gone. Witnesses described the kidnapper as tall, long blonde hair, wearing 
a Chicago Bull's cap. We have an APB out for the suburban, but so far it 
hasn't been found."
 
"Oh man."
 
"What happened at the loft?" Simon asked.
 
"He was waiting for us inside the loft using a white noise generator. He had 
a dart gun which he used on Jim. I tried to stop him, and he hit me. That's 
all I remember."
 
A tap on the door, and a nurse telling Simon he had a phone call at the desk 
preceded Simon's departure from Blair's room, but not before the captain 
gave Blair a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder.
 
The phone call was Rafe. They had gotten lucky. A off duty patrolman had 
spotted the suburban. Units were converging on the airport. It was only a 
matter of time before they got Jim back. Simon went to go tell Blair the 
good news.
 
Jim, awake, forgoed to open his eyes. Instincts had him throwing out his 
hearing and other senses in an attempt to figure out where he was without 
letting his captor or captors know he was awake.
 
Touch afforded him with the knowledge that he was lying on a soft comforter 
on a bed, nude, except for something that encircled his neck. Hearing found 
the lone heartbeat of his captor, and the soft music. Smell caught the odors 
of wine, steak, and baked potato, which made his stomach growl. Taste 
afforded him nothing, except the lingering taste of the drug they had used 
on him.
 
Ellison dared to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. He was in a 
hotel room from the look of it. The weight around his neck turned out to be 
a leather collar padlocked into place with a chain running from the padlock 
to the headboard where it was also padlocked. That combined with his state 
of undress gave Jim an idea of what might happen next. Refusing to give into 
his terror, Jim reached up and tried to undo the collar.
 
"Don't bother." a voice said from behind him. Jim cursed himself for not 
paying attention to the heartbeat he had heard. "Only I have the key, 
sentinel."
 
That one word froze Jim's heart.
 
Jim turned to look at his captor. The man was tall, slim, with long dark 
hair pulled back into a pony tail. His eyes were blue that turned green when 
the light hit it just so. He was wearing a dark robe and sipping a red wine 
from a glass as he leaned against the door to the bedroom. The man was 
smiling at him, and Jim could see the lust in the blue-green eyes, and smell 
the man's arousal.
 
"Touch me, and I'll kill you." Jim said through clenched teeth.
 
The man laughed at that, and set his wine glass on the dresser, then moved 
toward the bed.
 
"I rather doubt it, sentinel." He said as he untied his robe. He let the 
black robe fall to the floor at his feet, until he stood nude in front of 
the bed. The man was well built, muscular, but slim. The man moved on his 
toes, and Jim recognized training in the movements, and wondered what 
Martial Arts discipline the man knew. The man's cock was hard, long and 
wide, cut and leaking. Jim tensed himself ready to fight.
 
Jim made the first move, lashing out with a fist. The man caught it, 
twisting the arm behind Jim's back, his face close to Jim's head, breath 
blowing on his ear. The man added more force, and Jim's shoulder protested 
the movement. Jim tried to head butt the man, but his captor managed to 
avoid it. Using his free hand, Jim's captor ran it down Jim's left side. Jim 
used his left hand to try and free himself, but the man pushed Jim back onto 
the bed. Jim hit the pillow face first, and his captor reached down and 
grasped the belt from the robe. Jim tried to fight back, but the man managed 
to capture first Jim's right hand and tie it with the belt, then Jim's left 
hand. Eventually he had Jim's wrists bound and tied to the headboard. Jim 
lashed out with his feet, trying to kick his captor, but the man used silk 
handkerchief's to tie Jim's ankles to the footboard. But Jim had managed to 
land a blow to the man's cheek, which was now bruised and swollen. Jim felt 
satisfaction in hearing his foot connect.
 
The man simply walked out of the room into the bathroom, and cleaned his 
cheek. The pain of the bruise had caused his cock to deflate. When Byron was 
finished in the bathroom, he walked back into the bedroom to find Jim 
fighting against his restraints. He ran a hand down the sentinel's back. Jim 
flinched from the touch.
 
He laid a hand on the globe of Jim's ass, "I bet this is untouched 
territory. Sandburg is to much of a fool to realize what he had." Byron's 
fingers explored the cleft between the globes, rubbing over the virginal 
entrance to Jim's body. The sentinel flinched, trying to jerk away from the 
too familiar hand. "If he had done what he was supposed to, he would be a 
better guide. He should having taking you in hand, trained you in the use of 
your senses like guides have ALWAYS done instead of coddling you. Listening 
to your pathetic whining. Allowing you to push him away, to push him around. 
The more fool he. He didn't understand that it took discipline," with that 
word he slapped his hand hard across Jim's ass. "to keep a sentinel in line. 
He was too soft-hearted to be a guide."
 
Jim tried to ignore the man's words just as he tried to ignore the man's 
hand moving over his ass. The slap caused him to buck, surprising him. There 
had been no change in the man's heartbeat, or breathing to indicate he had 
been about to do that.
 
Byron crawled over Jim until his half hard cock pressed against Jim's ass, 
and his lips barely touched the back of Jim's neck. "And now I will show 
what a true guide does. How he manages his sentinel. A guide dominates his 
sentinel. It is the only way. That's why sentinels, male and female, can 
bear children. And guides are always male." He whispered in Jim's ear.
 
Jim couldn't help it, he laughed. The man was obviously off his rocker. Male 
sentinels getting pregnant. Jim couldn't control the laughter that spewed 
forth.
 
"Aaah, I see you don't believe me. In nine months, we'll both find out." He 
whispered.
 
With that, Byron reached into the nightstand and brought out a bottle of 
lube. Jim struggled, but Byron ignored it. Instead, he squeezed some of the 
KY onto his fingers, which he then pressed inside Jim's anus. Jim grunted, 
and tightened his ass muscles in an attempt to keep the intruder out.
 
"It will only cause pain, and maybe damage if you fight it." Byron said.
 
"Fuck you." Jim growled.
 
Byron laughed pressing two fingers into the tight passage. "Oh believe me, its you who is going to get fucked." Byron then inserted three fingers.
 
When he removed his fingers, Byron smothered his cock in KY, then aligned 
the large head with Jim's anus. He pushed inward slowly. Jim hissed in pain, 
and clenched his ass muscles. Byron didn't stop however. He continued 
forward until his balls rested against Jim's ass. Jim's eye were shut tight, 
the pain of being filled causing him to pant heavily.
 
Byron gave Jim a few seconds to get used to the feeling of being filled, 
then began to slowly thrust in and out, rocking his hips.
 
Eventually, the rhythm increased until Byron was pounding away wildly into 
Jim's ass. He howled as he released his seed deep inside the sentinel. Jim 
bit his lip trying not to cry out in pain.
 
Byron removed his now spent cock, and used his hands to spread Jim's cheeks 
as he checked Jim's anus. There was some blood, but not a lot, and Byron just 
rolled over and fell asleep on the other side of the large king sized bed.
 
Jim couldn't sleep. The pain in his ass was too intense. Some hours later, 
Byron woke up. With no preparation except for some more lube, Byron 
reentered Jim's ass, and pounded away some more until he released for the 
second time that night. When he was done, he went into the bathroom to take 
a shower.
 
The raid had been successful, and the blonde haired man had been taken into 
custody, but Jim was no where to be found on the plane or in the suburban. 
The man refused to talk. Rafe and Brown grilled him for hours. He said 
nothing, except to ask for a lawyer.
 
When the dogs alerted to the bomb, Taggert managed to disarm it before the 
timer ran out.
 
The presence of the bomb on the plane was told to the long haired man. His 
eyes got wide, and his face pale. He opened his mouth, and confessed, 
telling them where to find the detective.
 

Byron walked out of the bathroom wearing blue silk pajamas carrying a bowl
of water, a towel over his shoulder, and a washcloth in the bowl of water.
He walked over to the bed and set the bowl on the nightstand beside the bed.
Dipping the washcloth into the warm water, and wringing it out, Byron used
the cloth to wash the sentinel from head to toe. He had to change the water
four times, but eventually he had the sentinel fully bathed.

Jim said nothing as the man washed him. His ass hurt as did his lower back.
He was still trussed up and his arms were beginning to protest.

When Byron was done, he emptied the bowl of water, the returned. With care,
and alertness to Jim's movements, Byron untied first the sentinel's feet,
then his hands. Jim tried to struggle, but his arms and legs were numb, and
refused to obey his orders.

Byron slapped Jim's ass, "Don't fight me, sentinel. You will learn to obey."
He slapped Jim again, hard. The sentinel flinched, and growled beneath his
breath. Byron, satisfied, left the bedroom.

Jim slowly sat up, ignoring the pain in his ass by dialing down as Blair had
taught him. He was still imprisoned by the collar around his neck with the
chain padlocked to it, so he couldn't escape. Searching with sentinel sight,
Jim looked for something he could use to pick the lock. His search turned up
nothing. Stretching out with his hearing, Jim heard something that made his
heart cheer. Quickly Jim reached down and snatched the robe that Byron had
left on the floor, and tied it around himself as he listened to the sounds
of Simon and the Major Crimes team heading for the room.

Surveillance on the room told the Major Crimes team that Byron was in the
living room area, while Jim was in the bedroom. Therefore, the team knocked
down the door and entered, guns drawn.

Byron, however, would not go quietly. He had no weapon, but he struggled
with the officers who cuffed him. When the suspect was cuffed, only then did
Simon allow Blair to come in. When Byron saw Blair he yelled, "You. You are
a fool, Sandburg. He is mine, not yours. MINE! Do you hear me, MINE!" The
cops hauled him away as he yelled.

Blair watched thinking, then suddenly turned pale as a sheet, and raced into
the bedroom, Simon following.

They stopped in shock as they saw Jim sitting on the bed wearing a black
robe, and the leather collar with its chain holding him to the bed. When he
saw them, Jim lowered his eyes, unable to look them in the face...ashamed.

Simon cursed under his breath as Blair walked forward slowly.

"Jim, oh god, Jim, are you alright?" //Stupid question, Sandburg. Of course
he's not alright! He's been r-r-r// Blair couldn't even think it.

"Please, Chief, get me out of this place." Jim said unable to hide the pain
in his voice.

"Simon, I need the key." Blair said. He reached out to touch Jim, but
withdrew his hand with the sentinel flinched involuntarily.

Simon nodded, and began to search. He found the key just as the paramedics
arrived. Simon tossed the key to Blair who used it to unlock the collar from
around Jim's neck. The paramedics came forward.

Jim lost it. He growled at the paramedics, "Get away from me!"

"Jim calm down. They're only here to help you." Blair said trying to calm
Jim with his voice since touch seemed only to anger him.

"I don't want to go to the hospital. No hospitals, Chief!" He snarled.

Blair bit his bottom lip. If Jim had been...assaulted, then Blair knew that
Jim needed to go to the hospital.

"Jim, you can't let him win. I know that you know that evidence needs to be
collected. Come on Jim, don't let that bastard win. Let's put him away for a
long time, okay."

Jim seemed to think about it, then sighed. "Alright, Chief. But no
ambulance. You take me."

Blair agreed, and Simon waved the paramedics back. The paramedics seemed to
understand, and nodded. They left the room.

Rafe walked in. "Simon, the forensics team is here. Is it alright if we come
in now?"

Simon looked over to were Blair was helping Jim to stand. The sentinel moved
as if he was hurt, and Simon shuddered inside at the thought of how he was
hurt.

"Blair and I are going to take Jim to the hospital. Have forensics go over
this with a fine tooth comb once we leave. We definitely want this bastard."

Rafe agreed, "Don't worry, Captain. Everything by the book."

Simon nodded.

Blair set in the backseat of Simon's car with Jim's head in his lap, the
sentinel laying on his side. Simon drove them to the hospital.

Jim had finally calmed enough hat he no longer flinched when Blair touched
him. The same could not be said for anyone else, however.

When they reached the hospital, Simon managed to get them to allow Blair to
stay by his sentinel's side. The doctor had to finally agree since Jim had
latched onto Blair hand and was refusing to let go.

During the exam, Jim managed to slightly zone on Blair's heartbeat, which
worried the doctor a bit. When Blair talked Jim back from the zone after the
examination and the rape kit was done, the doctor felt more relieved. Jim's
lack of response had made the doctor think that Jim had gone catatonic due
to the trauma of being raped.

The doctors kept Jim overnight, and Blair stayed by his sentinel's side,
leaving only to use the facilities. Simon came in every so often to try and
convince Blair to go home. It didn't work, but Simon felt obligated to try.
Jim was fast asleep. Under Blair's watchful eye they had given the sentinel
a sedative, which allowed the sentinel to sleep, even if the sedative
wouldn't last as long as it would on regular humans.

The next day after a quick exam for which Jim once again grabbed Blair's
hand refusing to let go, the doctor discharged Jim and allowed him to go
home.

Jim was silent the entire time, silent and stoic. He had not spoken once since
his outburst in the hotel room, and Blair silently worried for his sentinel.
Blair felt out of his depth. His minor in psych did not prepare him to help
his sentinel, and Blair felt he would have to look for outside help even if
Jim didn't want it.

Simon picked them up, and took them to the loft. Once at the loft, Jim went
to the bathroom. The shower started up, and Blair fixed dinner with tears in
his eyes while Jim showered for over an hour. He had wanted to check on Jim,
but felt that he would be invading his sentinel's privacy. Finally, though,
Jim came out of the bathroom wearing his robe, then went upstairs.

Blair came up later with dinner on a tray to find Jim curled up on his bed
beneath the covers sound asleep. Blair wiped away tears after he set the
tray down as he watched Jim sleep. Blair left the tray there hoping that Jim
would wake up within the hour and eat. Blair told himself he would come up
later and remove the tray. Walking down the steps, Blair wondered what he
needed to do to help his sentinel recover.