Disclaimer: Okay, Those wonderful characters we know and love, namely James Ellison, Blair Sandburg, and Simon Banks, are NOT mine. They belong to the lucky people at Pet Fly and UPN, and I'm just borrowing them. I'll return them when I'm done. (boo hoo hoo...) The other characters are mine.

NOTES: Thank you thank you thank you to Becky B for the beta! And of course for all the encouragement. And thanks to Jo D as well! Without you two, this would never have been written.

I accept all commentary - good, bad, and ugly. Send it on to wnnepooh@netzero.net but don't be upset if you don't get a response immediately. I'll get to you.

In general, I kinda do something weird with Blair. (It's a good thing!) And there is moderate use of ESP.

I'd rate this PG-13, adult material/non descriptive.

OUT OF THE WILDS

by Wnnepooh

July 1992

She plunked her glasses down on the little space next to the laptop. Her hand went to her throat, unconsciously toying with the little silver charm. She glanced at her watch as her hand went back to snug the scruntchie holding the better part of her blonde curls, a few strays twisting tightly as the humidity and heat took their toll.

It was now past midnight, practically everyone but the Watch were in bed, including the rest of her team. The only reason she'd stayed up was to finish some notes, get off some e-mail to her father. The usual stuff - "I'm fine, Daddy, don't worry." and "No, I'm not marrying anyone down here." They shared a deeper bond than just their sense of humor. He knew what she cared about and what she wanted to do about it.

"Better get this done...chores...in..."

Her breath stopped and a fear gripped her - a wave of heat passing through her. She had only seconds before she smelled the smoke and heard the cries. Looking around she saw nothing - yet. With her usual calm and confident stride, she made her way to the Shaman's hut. He would know what to do - he would help her. As she stepped to the doorway, she made a noise then announced herself. He bid her enter with a sad sound. In the clipped words of the tribe, she told of the flash of senses. He was silent then held her hands to his heart. She felt the beating, felt it climb in rate then center in her chest, in her soul. His voice hummed in her ears, the sound buzzing out her head like a broken speaker. Sounds grew around her, then flashes of heat and more crying. She wanted to run but couldn't.

Then it stopped. She opened her eyes and saw not the man, but the emptiness that he would become. Shaking her head only brought pain and some mysterious words to her mind. In the language she'd grown to love and the voice she'd come to admire, she heard destiny.

~~~~~

September 1997

"And in other news, Financier Quinton MacKenzie's daughter, Casey, missing for the past 5 years, walked out of the Amazon Jungle 2 days ago and announced her desire to go home..."

Jim hit the button, immediately rolling over in an attempt to capture a few more minutes of peace. He'd no sooner drifted back to sleep when the radio interrupted yet again.

"Casey MacKenzie, the Anthropologist Fellow who disappeared 5 years ago from her research base in the Maurari area of Brazil, is on her way home and should be landing in Seattle any minute now. Casey, daughter of Financier and MacK CEO, Quinton MacKenzie..."

The detective hit the button again with a vengeance and curse.

"Ms. MacKenzie refused to speak of her time..."

And again and again, finally picking up the time piece and realizing it wasn't the cause for his torment. It continued until Jim rolled to his left and threw a glance over the rail, down to the TV. His partner, not realizing how loud the sound was, sat mesmerized by the report. *More likely by the woman in the skimpy clothes.* Jim thought to himself. He slipped his feet out from under the covers, tentatively testing the temperature of the room. Finding it to his liking, he sat up, then stood, staring at his watch then at Blair below. What the Hell was Sandburg doing up at 6:45 AM on a Saturday? They weren't due out until later, having a stakeout to work.

As if he knew the looks from above were for him, Blair turned his head in a quick motion, hoping to cover the look up the stairs with a nonchalant hair flip. No use. Ellison was there, staring down at him with those piercing blue orbs of his. He caught the big man staring directly at him; no turning back, now. "Morning, Jim." he said and raised his mug up in the direction of his partner's bedroom. "How about a cup of the magic brew? I hope I didn't wake you with the TV..."

There was no return comment, just a grunt as Jim turned his body, heading downstairs to the bathroom. He stumbled over a couple wet towels, and mumbled. The shower was lukewarm, resulting from the trickle of hot water Blair had left and Jim's desire NOT to take a cold shower. As he exited the tub and toweled off with the last clean towel, Jim Ellison made a decision about his roommate, close friend, and Guide. Plain and simple, Blair Sandburg was going to die. His only chance of redemption would be a pot of good coffee, two fresh bagels, and one Hell of an explanation...

It wasn't to be had that easily. When Jim exited the bathroom, making his way back upstairs, Blair was already gone and the TV off. A simple note was sitting alongside a pot of very good, very strong coffee and exactly two fresh bagels, ready for toasting.

Gone to campus was all it said.

~~~~~

Blair tossed side to side a couple times, not able to find one damned comfortable spot. He rolled to his right side and stared at the clock. 3:03 the little green numbers mocked. *No* this couldn't be. He knew he'd slept for at least an hour this last time, not the 16 minutes the clock and simple math suggested. He knew that the adrenaline kick from the bust should have worn off by now. The stakeout had been short and sweet, the criminal dumb and obvious. Something else kept running through his mind. Something to do with the call from MacK Industries and the Scholarship Committee. Blair sat up and debated for a time. Finally, he got up and walked out to the living room, hoping some latenight infomercial would succeed where meditation hadn't. As the young man walked toward the couch, his eyes cast about the loft fleetingly.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to see like you, man." he smiled at the thought of his partner, and glanced once more over the room. A movement caught his eye and he returned to the area, rewarded warily with the sight of a person, framed in a sliver of moonlight. Blair looked away, then back to the same spot. There really WAS someone there! Keeping as calm as his hyperactive body would let him, he maneuvered upstairs to his sleeping partner's bedside, placing one hand on Jim's shoulder, the other lightly over the larger man's mouth.

"Jim," the young man whispered, a quick glance down at the person still standing in the living room. "We've got company..." Removing his hand,Blair pointed to the figure observing them from below.

The Sentinel's senses came up in a blink, as did his body, much like a computer coming up from a screen saver. With little effort, Jim picked out the severely stressed heartbeat, as well as Blair's. Taking a relaxing breath, Jim sent out his senses to give him an impression of who or what it was. Smells of the forest filled his nose - of clean water and fruits, sort of like Sandburg sometimes. He was ready to turn up the dial on his sight when the person spoke.

"Enqueri." The two men were a little surprised at the female voice.

His Chopec name on her lips caught him unaware. She didn't say anything else, but he felt her thoughts, felt her touch his mind. It pulled him down the steps, knowing she was "following" him the entire way. The moonlight over her fed his senses, too much so and he heard Blair in some cached memory "Scale back." She shielded her eyes as Jim turned on the light - mainly for Sandburg's benefit. Blair couldn't control himself, letting out a gasp of surprise at the vision before them. She was taller than most women, probably taller than himself, Blair thought as he walked towards her. He was rewarded with her staring down at him by only an inch or so.

Jim looked her up and down, then scanned around the loft for any others. It was her, and no one else and the questions started to form. Like how the HELL did she get in?

A stream of Quechuan dialect came from her mouth, each word clipped.

*Not her native language* Jim thought.

"What'd she say?" Blair asked.

"She said the patio door was open." A look of confusion passed over his face, then melted away as he felt her in his mind again. An uncontrollable need to see her face came over him, and as he stepped closer, she brought her hand down, smiling at him. The calm blue of Jim's eyes gazed down into eyes the color of the rain forest itself. They smiled at each other. Suddenly feeling like a fifth wheel, Blair cleared his throat and Jim stepped back quickly. A little too quickly, for he nearly fell over his own coffee table. Covering though, he sat down. With reverence and grace, their visitor sat on the floor. To Jim and Blair's amusement, she chose a lotus position. Once again, the partners gazed at each other in wonder.

If Jim had to guess, she was 30 or so; not used to an easy life (at least not lately) as evidenced by the scars on her arms, legs, and midriff. And that was another facet. She wore a primitive cotton & leather outfit - wrap skirt with decorative loincloths, and mixed texture top with lacing on the back and sides. Her arms, legs, and midriff were bare, the top cut just below her breasts. A scooped neckline teased them with the top swirls of the blue, body-painting that extended under the cropped top and wound around her navel plummeting down under the skirt band, that just skimmed the break of her hips.

A golden ring in her navel seemed to have caught the most of the younger man's attention, while Jim focused on the print of the tattoos and the colors of her ensemble - midnight blue cotton and dark brown leather. He felt her smile and laughter. It was then that he asked her his questions. She had obviously set Jim as the authority figure, keeping herself in a lower stature. In dialect, he asked her the only piece of information he could latch onto immediately.

"Where did you come from?"

Again with the surprises, she answered in plain English, very slowly. "I've come very far to gain your help, Enqueri. Almost half a world for you...and Sandburg."

That got Blair's attention, even causing him to sit still for a few seconds.

"OK," Jim started warily. "You have my interest. What brings you here?"

"I'm called Yahokeete by my tribe. Our lands are being eaten by the highway, and we are being forced out. I have come to gain aid for our cause..."

He shook his head know she was going to ask for his help. "I don't go back to the jungle anymore. I...can't..."

"I have the aid for my village. I need your help to catch a murderer."

Blair had started to ease away, hoping to get dressed and come back. His mind, though, was focused solely on the conversation now, his feet wouldn't move until ordered to do so.

Jim noticed her hesitancy, knowing she needed to be calmed. He held a hand up, signaling for her to stop. "Chief, why don't you get some tea going, and we'll all get a little more comfortable while we go over this."

"Will do." And Blair went to the kitchen setting the kettle on the stove. He watched Jim cautiously head up the stairs. Along with the tea, the anthropologist made a half pot of coffee for his partner. It looked to be a while before any of them got to bed. He quickly ran to his room and threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. A second thought hit him, and he grabbed his tape recorder and journal as well before reentering the living room. When he got back, Blair noticed Jim, Mr. Meticulous, was still picking out a shirt.

"Please, continue. I can hear you," came the voice from upstairs.

"I know." she said quietly. Jim threw her a glance over the railing, connecting to her somehow, feeling more comfortable. Getting his movement back, Jim turned to finish changing as he posed his question.

"Tell me more about the murder. Who was it? Where? When?"

It didn't take Sentinel abilities to hear the deep cleansing breath she took. Blair had heard her from the kitchen, where he stood fixing their mugs. He poured the coffee, then delivered her tea and turned, placing Jim's mug on the coffee table before cozying up on the couch, journal and pen in hand.

"Five years ago, my village was betrayed and attacked, my people scattered. A close friend was found days later, dead. He had died the night of the raid, but was not killed by the attacking tribesmen."

"You know that for sure?" came Jim's question as he descended the stairs. "Tribal raiding is a natural part of the culture."

"Two bullets to the back of the head is NOT a part of the culture of the Amazons."

"Maybe in Jersey..." and she smiled to Sandburg as he said it. They all knew the seriousness of the charges, but Blair's natural levity in these situations helped the threesome to relax. Her sad smile made them gravitate to her. Jim walked to the living room, taking a position on the sofa, sitting up on the back, his feet on the seat cushion. It was his way of inviting her off the floor. Her smile and slight nod informed him that she saw his offer, but was comfortable where she was. She continued on, more relaxed, the tea sitting in her hand in her lap.

"Jeff held a place of honor in the tribe. He'd been down there for four years and had won his way onto the table of elders. The night of the attack, he planned on meeting with me to discuss problems with the research team..."

It clicked for him then. Blair Sandburg, Anthropologist, looked beneath the work-weathered skin and tribal makings, beyond the random braids and multi-pierced ears. He was calm enough once he realized who she was.

"What problems?"

Jim looked to his partner as soon as the words left the younger man's mouth. The look of intense study in his eyes let Jim know his friend was onto something.

"Jeff never told me that night. We were attacked about 12:30 AM - Jeff and I planned to meet at 1:00. The last time I saw Jeff alive, was about 11:30 PM, when he walked his fiancee past my hut to hers."

"So how can we help?"

" I know who's responsible for Jeff's death, and I want them brought to justice."

~~~~~

The two men stared at each other for a few minutes, then walked away quietly. Checking his watch, Jim noticed it was nearly 5:30 in the morning now. Yahokeete lay on the couch, the blanket thrown over her in a caring but haphazard way. Each of them had offered her their bed, but she'd insisted on the couch. Funny, but none of them had even considered the possibility of her leaving.

"Whatta ya think, Jim?"

She'd answered all his questions with verifiable information, which he would run by his sources later. If what she'd said was true, and Jim felt it was, the party in question was in it up to his eyeballs. And it didn't look good.

He looked down at Sandburg's tired but uncontrollable form. The younger man was shifting from one foot to the other in anticipation of an answer. "I think we've got quite a job ahead of us. Okay, Chief? I'll need you to get us the specs on the research team and our guest. Of course you know who she is, otherwise you'd be able to stand still for longer than 15 seconds."

They smiled at each other, putting the fatigue behind them. Blair ran for his laptop, but Jim grabbed his shoulders and nearly threw him into his own room while the big man proceeded upstairs. "Sleep for a few, Chief. The computer will be there when you're ready..."

~~~~~

Simon Banks showed up at 9:05 AM, exactly the time Sandburg predicted - exactly 25 minutes after Ellison had called into the station. Jim handed over the $5 bill then opened the door letting the Captain in. Simon was halfway to the couch and in the middle of a rant when he spied her. She sat quietly in front of the patio doors, letting the random sun pour over her body - her bare body. Jim noticed that the Captain backed up. He didn't turn away at first, just backed up, until Blair's hand on his back startled him. Simon's attention turned to the offered mug and his best detective.

"She's naked, Jim."

"Yes, she is." And Jim filled the cup with coffee. "Interesting tattoos dontcha think?"

"What the Hell is *SHE* doing on your floor, Ellison?"

"Meditating." The anthropologist replied with an academic tone. "Cleansing her senses for the day ahead. Bagel?"

Simon looked dead-pan at Blair, raising one eyebrow the way he always did when his best investigative team included him in one of their "usual" cases.

Blair's smile turned devilishly up on one side and he walked over to Yahokeete, handing her one of his robes. She tied it loosely, then went to greet Simon.

"This is my Captain, Simon Banks."

She'd known he was a cop, had even known who and what Sandburg was. They hadn't discussed it in depth, but her comments from that long conversation convinced Jim she knew more about him than he cared.

"Pleased to meet you," as he held out his hand. Jim controlled his laughter to a simple smirk as Simon flinched and hesitated his way through the handshake.

"I do know the ritual, Captain. If you'll excuse me..." with a quick turn, she headed for the bathroom. Once the door was closed, Simon headed for the couch and sat heavily. Removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose against the rising headache, he ventured the question of time.

"9:08." Sandburg provided.

"Now, Detective Ellison, I'm gonna ask this one more time. What was SHE doing on your floor? And don't tell me meditating. You hear me?"

"What is it you want to know?" There was a false innocence to his voice.

"Don't play games, I'm not in the mood."

The partners exchanged knowing glances, then shrugged.

"She showed up about three this morning and proceeded to tell us about her tribe and her quest for justice." Jim said the words with belief, and Blair didn't miss a bit of it. No more joking about. He knew Jim to be a safe cynic - keeping his own feeling segregated from the job until it was necessary. He believed in truth, though, and it was this belief that showed in his voice. Simon heard it as well, cause he sat back on the couch and sipped his coffee.

Jim related the story of Jeff Zybek, a long-term study fellow who had been staying with her tribe in the Maurari area as part of the research team. He gave every detail exactly as Yahokeete had given it early that morning, and once again, Blair was amazed at his partner's powers of recall. Especially since neither of them had had much sleep. Blair came back to the narrative just as Jim was filling in the accusations of a drug conspiracy in the research team. They waited for Simon to mull things over. Just as the captain was preparing to say "okay," she walked out of the bathroom and upstairs to Jim's bedroom. It wasn't where she walked, but how - towel around her waist and nothing else. Even though Simon had just seen the same woman in God's perfect wrapper minutes before, he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. Simon stood and drank the last of his coffee, handing the mug to Blair and moving quickly to the door.

"I want an update tonight, by dinner." Banks said as he walked out.

Doorknob still in hand, he turned to the two men. "And gentlemen," he began in a haughty tone, "keep her clothed out there or you'll BOTH be directing traffic by Friday."

"Yes, sir." They chorused and shut the door. Jim called up to their guest, looking away quickly as she leaned over the railing to hear him. He briefly gave thanks to God for multiculturalism, then lumbered unhappily up the stairs. Reaching the top step, he walked purposefully to Yahokeete, picking up a clean shirt from his laundry basket as he approached.

"Are you unhappy with my looks?" she asked with some little alarm, and what Jim thought was surely disappointment. "It is my position in the tribe that dictated these...And just as I am one of the tribe, the tribe is many of me."

She pointed to the tribal markings she wore in the most interesting places. Familiar dot/line patterns he recognized from his time in the jungle. As he neared her, he rolled the shirt into his large hands, holding it open for her to slip into. As her arms came through, he pulled it down over her, the slightly large and worn shirt extending over her hips. Instinctively, his hand went to her neck, freeing the mass of blonde hair from the neckline. As he swept it back, over her shoulder, he noticed the mark. A crescent shape, slightly jagged, on the side of her neck. It wasn't a tattoo, but a sort of birthmark. At least it looked like a birthmark, dusky rose in color, yet smooth like new skin. He wanted to touch it, almost moved his hand back to do so. That's when he felt her touching him mentally, and he stepped back. His one arm was still extended past her shoulder, where it had dropped after helping her into the shirt. In answer to his step back, she stepped forward, forcing his arm around her as it came down. He looked down slightly at her, noting those eyes that peered into him.

"You prefer me clothed."

*Like HELL I do* he thought to himself, almost knowing she had heard him.

"It's less distracting." he finally said and looked away momentarily. Stepping back a few feet, he let his eyes come back to her, and noted the lay of the shirt over her body. It was one of his favorites, broken in and comfortable.

Between the random "housework" stains of oil and paint, there were several holes and a couple worn areas. All that on a threadbare-white background gave her the appearance of a jaguar... Jaguar. The word echoed in his head and Jim smiled for no real reason.

"Enqueri."

His name gained his attention and she smiled.

"You need to stay here with Blair. He has lots of questions for you. I have to go talk to some people." As he turned to leave, he felt her hand on his back.

*Damn, she's fast.*

"I want to go to the University..."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now." He said taking a step down.

They stared eye to eye, now, both vying for ontrol.

"I need to go," she started, "I have business here."

"Let me get a couple other uniforms to escort you." He knew as soon as he said it she would say "no."

"I would prefer to take your partner."

It was Jim's turn. "No. I trust him to keep you safe here, where it's controlled. I don't know if you could be as at ease with him out there."

"If I did not trust your Shaman, I would not have mentioned it."

That made him look at her twice, then down towards Sandburg in the living room. "What did you just call him?"

"Medico; Piaku; Nidetku...Shaman? He is your Guide, is he not Sentinel? It is he who keeps your spirit grounded and your senses sharp. Yes?"

She was right, and he knew it, but Jim hadn't told her that aspect of their partnership. "You'll have to tell me who told you...how you know all these things..."

Her laughter filled the loft, causing Blair to look up at the pair conversing at the top of the steps. Then speaking softly, just for Jim, she replied to his challenge. "Shaman conventions - we gossip." She touched his cheek softly, then returned to the bed to finish dressing.

The large man turned sharply and rushed down the steps, heading quickly for the kitchen. Grabbing his jacket and phone, he mumbled something to Blair.

"Anything you need, buddy?"

"Ice water."

Blair smiled knowingly at the woman in the loft, then shook his head as Jim shut the door.

~~~~~

He flashed his badge to the officer at the door, then walked into the middle of a controlled chaos. People were everywhere, the chatter so much that he had to turn down his own reception just to avoid a headache. He tried to focus on the conversation ahead, through the big mahogany door with the gold letters. As he walked, he filtered out and down until he was rewarded with the distinctive buzz of a cellular phone.

"Find her." came the agitated voice. "I don't care how and I don't care what you have to do, just find her and bring her back to me...you've got to..." There was a catch to the man's voice and he had to clear his throat.

"Just find her, I don't care what it costs." The conversation at an end, Jim dialed down to normal and approached the officer ahead of him at the door.

"Detective James Ellison, Cascade PD." The officer nodded, but Jim's path was cut off by a small woman, mid-forties with slightly blonde hair. She peered over her glasses and tentatively placed one hand on Jim's chest.

"Excuse me, Detective," came the pleasant, professional phone voice."But do you have an appointment? Mr. MacKenzie is a very busy man, in spite of all the recent activity."

"I have to ask him some questions, ma'am" and with that, gave her his best professional attitude, the one he'd learned in the military.

She didn't frighten one bit.

"Mr. MacKenzie has seen four detectives and three private investigators this morning..."

"And it isn't even 10:30 yet...People don't waste much time, do they?" A figure approached from the other side of the door. "I assure you, I'm not here to bother Mr. MacKenzie. I just need some minor information."

"It's okay, Gladys." The man was tall, not as tall as Jim, but not average.

At the sound of his voice, Gladys had made her way back to her large desk. A desk that looked more like a battlement than a desk, but it made sense if MacKenzie was bombarded like this every day.

"Won't you come in, Detective...Ellison, did you say?"

"Yes, with the Cascade PD." As Jim shut the door, he did a controlled scan of the room for any ultrafrequencies. He and Blair had spent some time in the department technology lab, trying to hone in on the higher frequencies so the Sentinel would be able to detect listening equipment or transmitters of any kind. It had been marginally successful, but Jim didn't have the time to listen as closely as he wanted. Finding nothing on a quick scan, Jim watched the man sit then approached his desk. "I have some information for you, but I need some information first."

"I've already been through everything with the others. Casey wasn't even home for 24 hours and someone's taken her. There's been no ransom demand, but there's something wrong. I feel it..."

At that, Jim looked the man over, knowing MacKenzie *did* feel the danger. Jim could see it in his mannerisms and hear it in the fluttering heartbeat. "Did she say anything to you when she got home? Anything about her time in the forests...about her tribe?" The man motioned for Jim to sit, but he refused. The detective wanted to pace, he made his way around the office, checking the surrounding buildings for snipers or listening devices. Nothing, but it never hurt to walk.

"We talked of the years we lost." MacKenzie started. "Of the past five years and what had happened to both of us. I never gave up hope, Detective."

"Jim, please."

"Jim, then. As I said, I never gave up hope. Something inside me knew she hadn't died in the raid. I made sure that she was taken care of as best as possible, even out there in the wilds. She had state of the art computers, and she e-mailed me almost every day. Magellan Global equipment hook-ups so she could contact anyone in my company at any time...What happened down there is your guess as good as mine. We didn't talk about that night. She said she wasn't ready, and that she had to talk to someone before she could share that pain with me."

That peaked his interest, and Jim absently touched the framed picture of MacKenzie and his daughter, thinking of... well, just thinking of other things. "Did she say anything about WHO she needed to see? Where they were? What kind of business they were in?"

"She said something about a debt to repay and something to pass on to someone. I thought it was a doctor or something, she called them a Medico..."

Sandburg. She'd been talking about coming to see them. Jim smiled, then looked around again. *One more time to be safe.* he thought.

"I think you have something to tell me, now et...Jim."

The men stared at each other for a split second, Jim knew that MacKenzie had some idea of what was going on. No use beating around the bush then.

"Mr. MacKenzie, I have your daughter."

~~~~~

They sat at the table, plates of food in front of them, but neither had the inclination to eat. For all that Quinton MacKenzie was happier knowing his daughter was safe, he was not ready to dismiss the danger he felt for her. And Jim wasn't going to dismiss it either. It was a reality, what the man felt, not just in connection with his daughter.

"So, she just found you, in the middle of Cascade." There was a question there, but MacKenzie's feelings said he knew the answer.

"I believe someone told her where to find me - if she ever needed help. The man she was looking for, Blair Sandburg, is my partner."

"Sandburg? The Teaching Fellow at Rainier?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's a MacKenzie Grant Scholar."

"Yes, he is" Jim said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's Mac, not sir. I keep tabs on the Fellowship recipients. I didn't know Sandburg was working with the Cascade PD though. His reasearch has something to do with... Enhanced Senses... and jungle cultures. He's done some remarkable work tracing tribal histories and legends. I like his work on the Warrior figures and their hierarchy. But last I read in his reports he was working up a case study...on a... genetically... superior... warrior." There was an unexpected flash of admiration on MacKenzie's face, and he suddenly began to eat his lunch as if he'd just been served. A sort of ravenous appetite overtook the man.

As a detective, Jim observed the action with some suspicion. As the subject of Blair's case study and the reports that Mac had just mentioned, the Sentinel couldn't help but shift his weight again, sit up straighter, and think of a response. It took a second or two, the space of a long breath, but Jim felt the answer would hold. After all, it was only an extension of the truth - sort of.

"Well, Sandburg is doing that, but the department is putting his Psychology Minor to good use as a Criminal Profiler for Major Crimes. In exchange, he gets to observe our 'warrior' culture. Relate our modern tactics and social pattern to those of primitive cultures he's studied." So said, Jim hid his face behind the water glass, as he tried to swallow the smile that would reveal his stretched truth.

"So he works with the entire department then?" Mac questioned with a smile.

"He rides with me. He's my partner, my back-up." Jim winced slightly at his own possessive tone.

There was a knowing look to Mac's face, and Jim didn't like it very much. The Detective had his suspicions regarding how much Quinton MacKenzie actually knew. He'd have to have a long talk with his partner when this was over. Just exactly what was in the reports that the kid had filed? He'd read a couple, trying to get through the babble, and had left his trust to the Anthropologist to keep the necessary secrets. Jim's attention came back to the man across from him, who was almost done his meal.

"I took special note of Sandburg's work after I read his proposal for the grant money. Very similar to the work Casey was doing. She'd been exploring the underlying communications systems of the Maurari tribe and the correlation to the high amounts of radioactive substances in their tribal lands and the surrounding areas. She'd made friends with the tribe's main cultural leader, Tikopi, and was hoping to gain acceptance into the tribe's more segregated happenings."

Jim smiled, remembering the male-dominant tribes of South America. "I'm sure she's done that now, sir. Did you get a good look at her when she got home?"

Relaxing now that the conversation was safely off Blair, and him, Jim picked at the food before him.

Mac raised an eyebrow at the comment. "I saw plenty that I didn't really want to see. Those tattoos, for one, the brand for another."

"The crescent on her throat. That's very important, Mac."

"I'm getting a little defensive here. Typical Dad stuff."

"She's 33 years old, Mac. I think she's past being your little girl."

A smile came over Mac's face. "You don't have kids, Jim." And Jim shook his head at the older man. "I didn't think so. They never seem to get out of the 'little' stage to a Father. Something makes you protect them until the day you die...Something connects you..."

"I'm gonna speak frankly, Mac. I think you two are connected more closely than most. You knew she was alive all those years. You knew because your connection is more reliable than e-mail."

"And your point?"

"I'm not surprised by much anymore, Mac. Hanging around Sandburg and his cultural studies has made me see that there's more to life than I ever cared to notice. Some things that can't be explained in or by normal standards. Sometimes I wonder just what normal is anymore. I'm just saying that you know she's in good hands."

Mac nodded his agreement. "If she's with you and Sandburg, then I know she's safe now. It doesn't change the fact that I worry about her though. There's something you're not telling me. Something to do with Casey...and Sandburg and YOU. There's a reason she went to you two with her problems. And I'm betting it has something to do with our friend's research and your partnership."

That surprised him. Jim sat back, uneasy once again. As the donor for the grant money, Mac had a right to see the research being done. But as the subject of the study, Jim was a little nervous. Hell, he was a LOT nervous. His partner had commented that someone at the university might read his stuff, but most donors never bothered. Well, Mac HAD bothered, and now it bothered Jim.

"You can relax, Jim." Mac said quietly, and finished the last of his steak. "I'm not the prying type. I just wanted to be close to everything Casey stood for, and that included the Fellowship Project at Rainier. I don't like many of the people in the Anthropology department, but everyone speaks highly of Blair Sandburg. The students like him, the faculty admire him, and his research is well done and well presented. In fact, if it hadn't been for his case load already, I had been prepared to offer him a grant to go back to Casey's tribe, and continue her studies..."

That would've made Blair's lifetime, more so than the trip to Borneo. Thekid would have been in charge of the team, hand-picking the participants...Jim smiled at that. It would hurt to see his friend go, but the kid deserved a life of his own.

"Jim?" Mac stared at him as he lounged back in the chair. "You've got a particularly interesting look on your face."

"Sorry, I was just mulling over what you'd said. What kinda look was it?"

"Like a father losing his only child..."

~~~~~

Blair finished typing in the last of the notes from Yahokeete's interview, then went back to the Anthropology Department home page. He pulled up the pictures again, staring at the face, so young and vulnerable. he cast a look over his shoulder, feeling her there before she'd said anything.

"Geez, don't do that. It's kinda spooky."

She smiled at him, then sat on the floor at his feet.

"You don't have to sit down there for me, Jim's the Sentinel."

"And you are his Shaman..."

Blair blinked at that. "You know that?...Of course you know that...But you're a more powerful Shaman than I am. I should be sitting at your feet."

To that, he extended his hand and helped her up to a chair where she instinctively brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms about them.

"We both know better than that." That surprised him. "I have been here longer, but we know that you will go farther. You have many years ahead..."

"And you?" he said with a slight panic.

"I'm fine with my life, and have many many years ahead as well." There was something that crossed her face, something Blair couldn't exactly fathom.

"So what makes you think I'll go farther than you? You've been taken into the tribe, branded, named their Shaman..."

"They did not brand me." and there was a catch to her voice.

"Who did?"

"It happened during the attack, just as we finished evacuating the village..."

"You evacuated before the attack. You knew what was coming and told the tribal elders?"

She shook her head. "Jeff was the only one who could talk to the elders. I was only a girl. I went to Tikopi, the Shaman. He went to the elders, then. The rest of the tribe was removed, hidden in the trees and caves nearby. Only a token few warriors were allowed to stay."

There was a faraway look to her eyes and Blair instinctively reached for her hand. She twined her fingers with his and continued. As she spoke, her words formed the pictures in his mind and he was there, with all the sights and smells she had captured of the night. "I refused to go, following Tikopi to his hut to pack his medicinals. I had just removed the last of his things to a safe distance. When I returned, he was gone. I knew he was in danger. When I'd told him of the attack, I knew. I ran to the center of the village, heading for the elders' hut. He was inside, but I couldn't go in. I heard it then, and smelled it. The crackle of fire and smell of smoke. They burned the huts, controlling it so as not to damage the surrounding forest. It was a slow deliberate burning, trapping some of the warriors inside...I couldn't stay outside and let Tikopi die like that. I ran in to try and move him, but he'd already taken a potion. Some sort of poison. He lay on the floor, chanting for me, knowing I would come. It was his wish that I take over. I refused. I was well aware of the problems a female - let alone an outsider - would cause. He insisted, and pushed his stick at me. I don't know how he was holding it, the silver casing was so hot, it burned my hand. The attackers were surrounding the hut then. I couldn't go outside. Even if I was a woman, I had Tikopi's stick, they would have taken me to their tribe...They beat the sides of the burning hut, causing it to fall around us, I shielded the Shaman's body with my own. I could feel the heat on my back, smell my skin singeing... When I awoke three days later, the elders were standing in a ring around the fallen hut. As I stood, they chanted. I was still dazed. They took me to see Jeff's body, and we honored him with a warrior's funeral. He'd given his life for the tribe, just as the Shaman had given his life to me. It wasn't until the ceremony a month later, after the mourning, that I saw what had convinced them of Tikopi's belief in me. The ceremonial rocks had fallen on my back, burning their symbols into my skin. Tikopi's juju stick had left his name emblazoned on my hand, and I had the crescent shape upon my neck, the jugular to be exact."

It was a lot to take in, and as the sight faded, Blair shook his head back to normalcy. He'd never done that before, but it was something he'd explore later. Right then he had the awful taste of smoke in his mouth. He stood, fingers still linked with Yahokeete. As he moved, though, he broke the link, losing some strength as he walked to put the kettle on for tea.

"That's a lot to go through in one lifetime. Is that how you got your name?"

She nodded. "Yahokeete, the place of learning."

"For the University? Or for the elders' hut?"

"Both."

"It's a good name." he said with great respect.

"It's a mouthful." she replied with a smile. "Keete is what I favor."

"Keete it is, then." He turned his attention to the kettle he had filled, setting it on the burner.

She saw his hands shaking as he released the kettle and turned to face her.

"Do not be afraid of the magic inside you. I was for a long time, and it took a friend's death to wash away my fear. I pray it will not take that for you to understand your gifts..."

~~~~~

Blair searched the entire apartment one more time. It wasn't there; it just wasn't there. He didn't want to go to campus, didn't want to leave the loft at all. Besides the threat of danger, he was having too good a time. He and Yahokeete had been enjoying the day sharing stories and trading information gained over the past five years. Yahokeete made it a point to teach Blair some new homeopathic remedies and some useful phrases in a few Tupian dialects. They'd taken it easy for a bit, while the young man's body recovered from his foray into Shamanism. The earlier experience with her had left him drained of physical energy, yet spiritually charged. As they prepared lunch, he worked up the nerve to broach a touchy subject.

"You've been Shaman for 5 years, now. In all that time, did you ever..." she looked at him as he hesitated. "I mean, was there a necessity for you to... uh... participate... in..."

"Did I ever use the drugs prevalent in the jungle juju?" she said simply.

Blair nodded, almost blushing as he did.

"Yes." And he stared at her, biting his lower lip to keep his mouth from dropping open. "The combination of certain rites and rituals with narcotics is documented throughout jungle history. As Shaman, I have to prepare, use, and administer all sorts of medicinals. It's not something I do for fun - I do it to preserve the tribe and their culture. I believe you would say it's 'strictly professional.'" She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You worry about handling these things in your culture, yes?"

"Things that are so naturally accepted in the jungle are taboo here. I can study all the tribes and cultural histories I want, but nothing really applies to my village, or my Shamanism. I fight to keep most of your types of medicinals off the streets and away from my villagers..." There was a sense of defeat in his voice that Yahokeete didn't like.

"You fight a good fight," she started. "My medicinals are pure, and of a strength low enough to cause the desired effects, but that is where it ends. Anything you get around here is straight poison to the soul. That is very bad juju."

"What about your medicinals? You said they were low strength." The question in his eyes was plain, and she was flattered he would ask for her help. But...

"Unfortunately, even my medicinals could be poison to your simple system."

"You're saying I'm simple?" he said through a smile.

"I'm saying you need to forget jungle ritual as the perfect answer. You are not in the rain forest anymore. This village needs a different type of Shaman. There is a different magic for you, and you will find it." The sincerity in her eyes and voice calmed him. "You are many steps on the path already."

"Not as many as you."

She nodded her concession to the praise.

"The ordeal in the elders hut; that was your passage to the Shaman world, right?" Before he'd even finished the question, she'd started nodding. "You blacked out from the real world, and traveled into the microcosm of your inner self?"

Stirring the pot, she shook her head. "No. I reached a different plane of existence, where Tikopi met me, whispering all his secrets into my ear."

"But you said Tikopi died." Blair grabbed two bowls from a cabinet.

"So did I."

It was all he could do to keep the bowls in his hands. Blair had heard stories of Shaman pretenders taking potions to "purify" their souls, to prove their worthiness for the position. Most died immediately, others suffered horribly. Only one in a thousand walked away unharmed.

She continued on softly, in a voice meant to soothe him. "I don't know how long I was there, Only that Tikopi imparted his trust, knowledge and tribe to me, then sent me back to life. But I do not understand your surprise...you have been there too."

The statement hung over them and seemed to have its greatest effect on Blair's eyebrows, which were wrinkled and tense.

"No, not like you have."

"Yes." she said and took one of his hands by the wrist. "You have been to the other side." She held his hand up, then mirrored her own to it. He was surprised by the flashes of Golden Fire that zapped between them. It took all his resolve NOT to flinch as the fire stayed contained on his palm. She laid his palm face up, removing her own hand from his vision.

"WHOA!" came his startled cry. "They said I'd get flashbacks..."

The shaking of her head drew his attention, and he noticed she held up both her own hands. Looking back to his palm, Blair watched in amazement as he managed to keep the fire in his hand, making it flare and bank at his suggestion. Closing his hand, he peered between the fingers, watching it die slowly, much like a child watching a refrigerator light. When it finally disappeared, he examined his hand. Some sootiness on his fingers the only evidence of the flames having been there at all.

"If that was a flashback, why then did I see it as well?" Keete said with a knowing smile.

The question picked at something in his mind. Something he'd been denying since Incacha...

"Are you saying THAT was my baptism?" And saying the words, he knew them to be true, knew them to be right. "The fire is my tool, my oracle..." At her nod, he smiled and ran a nervous hand through his hair, pushing it back as if to reign himself back from leaping. He almost tried to conjure up the flames again, instead turning to the sink to wash the smudges off. The smell of the stew called to them and they ate quietly, listening to music Blair had chosen from the CD's she'd like earlier.

It had been so very long since she'd heard outside music. Sure the odd traveler from more worldly tribes passed through with "outsider" things. But as Shaman, she never could immerse herself in the experience.

*This is my walk.* she thought to herself. *My time to make peace within.*

Blair was just clearing the table, putting away the leftovers when he noted the music stopped. Looking up, he saw her place a couple CD's in the carousel and press a few buttons. She waited anxiously for the first few chords and seemed endlessly rewarded by the bluesy riffs. He shook his head and laughed.

*If I'd just spent 5 years in the jungle, what would _I_ want to listen to?*

He understood her need for familiar things and laughed even harder when he realized the CD was Jim's, not his. *Chalk one up to the big guy.*

~~~~~

He'd given Mac his card with the home number on it, promising to guard her with his life. And he would, too. A strange feeling came over Jim as he headed the truck home. Normally he wouldn't go home, but something was taking him back. Not just the fact that Yahokeete was there. He still had several leads to check on. He'd obtained the list of involved parties from the University, thanks to Blair, and could have spent the afternoon tracking them down. He was halfway to the campus when he decided to go back for his partner. Maybe they'd be more at ease talking to a fellow faculty member, and Sandburg would know more of the pertinent questions to ask.

And after rationalizing it that way, he'd turned a corner and headed for the loft instead. As he neared the block, he felt her, searching for him. It was disconcerting at the least, and something inside his head missed a click. He swerved a little, almost sideswiping a parked car. Jim made a mental note to tell Yahokeete NOT to do that, even as his face displayed a smug grin. All he could thing about as he walked up the steps was seeing her. And as he approached, he felt a beating in his head, a swaying. Opening the door, he laughed at the sight before him. Blair and Yahokeete were dancing and talking. The music filtered out and Jim listened to their conversation. They didn't even hear him enter, so wrapped up in the words. They were conversing in dialect, but not ordinary wordings. It sounded like she was translating the song verses into Tupian. Blair was repeating them, obviously focusing on the pronunciations and not on the woman in his arms. It was a real sight, given the fact that she had to be at lease two inches taller than his partner. As one song ended, another of the bluesy tunes came on. Jim moved to the center of the floor and, in Chopec, asked Yahokeete to dance. There was little surprise on their faces, nothing guilty about it. If Jim didn't know better, he thought they looked like they'd been expecting him. He turned and looked at Blair as the young man headed for his computer, immediately typing furiously. Sandburg's heart rate was slower, calmer; his movements relaxed and measured. Yahokeete touched Jim's face with her hand, drawing his eyes to her as they talked.

"I'm surprised."

"We know."

Simple enough, but he didn't like the use of the word "we." "Is that so?" and Jim stared again into her eyes, smiling for the damnedest reason.

"We felt your coming." That did surprise him.

"What's with the 'we' stuff?" Concern had furrowed his brow. In answer, she stepped closer to him, letting his hand drop to the top edge of her skirt, his warm hand on her skin.

"Never fear, Enqueri, your Shaman has much honor."

Even though he could hear her whisper clearly, Jim still moved his head closer, more intimately, towards her.

"I had to threaten to break his arm if he did not dance with me." The smile she gave him was echoed on his face, and he knew it. "I found the disc in with the others. I know it's yours, I hope you don't mind."

"George and the Destroyers are good for thinking, you know."

"You think a lot?" There was an underlying question that he just couldn't answer. "I always found them good for lifting my spirits. Always singing about someone with worse problems than myself."

They were quiet until the end of the song, then Jim turned off the player completely. "I went to see your father," he started. "He wants you to know he understands. I gave him the number here and he'll be calling tonight."

She was unmoved. "I expected as much. I felt him thinking about me over lunch. Which, by the way, you should put away before it spoils." Jim looked at her sheepishly, then retrieved the bag from the counter and put it in the fridge.

"You knew he'd been to lunch? Did you feel it?" Blair asked curiously.

"I saw him put the bag on the counter when he came in, and he smells of my father's cigars."

Blair looked up at his Sentinel and laughed. "Some Shaman I am..."

That made Jim stop and look twice. Since Incacha had given over his title, Blair had been uncomfortable with it. He kept saying it didn't fit well. Now, though, with only one day under her study, the kid had used "Shaman" and "I" in the same breath. To that, Jim could only shake his head.

"What brings you here? I thought You were gonna get a string of leads to check?" and saying that, Blair went to the fridge to check out the contents of the bag, folding it up and placing it back in the same spot.

"I've got a list, but I need some company. I figure those at Rainier would be more willing to talk to one of their own - Mr. Anthropology Teaching Fellow."

Blair had gotten used to the steady flow of nicknames Jim used when he needed to make a point. This was one of the better ones, letting Blair know that Jim respected both his police work and his academic life.

"Hey, Chief." Jim started as Blair crossed to his room. "You have anything in there to fit her?" Both Blair and Keete looked at him. "I promised the Captain and your father that I would keep you covered up. Besides, it's colder here than your jungle and we don't need you getting sick." It was only half the truth, and Blair knew it. There was also the real possibility of someone recognizing Keete. And if it was the wrong someone... Jim nodded at Blair's stare, watching as the young man nodded back then entered his room.

And so, after 15 minutes of routing, Sandburg emerged with some jeans from a former girlfriend, but no luck on a shirt, she'd have to borrow one of Jim's. That pleased the Sentinel to no end. The thought of his clothes on her body...

"Earth to Jim. Detective?" And with his best Simon Banks impression: "ELLISON!"

That got him, and he quickly took the stairs returning with a neatly folded t-shirt and his worn ARMY sweatshirt. Once she changed, Blair provided her with a pair of socks and warm boots. Jim's CDP cap and they were off to campus. There was a wild look in her eyes as they went. A look of anticipation that Jim hoped wouldn't end in heartache...

~~~~~

They arrived at the Anthropology building mid afternoon. A pretty good time, according to Blair, as most of the classes were getting over and the professors staying for office hours. As they walked in, Jim and Blair both waited for Yahokeete's reaction. She was wary, cautious even. Her eyes took in everything tenderly and Jim noted the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

He pressed a hand to her back, and nodded forward. Checking the posted schedule to the list of interviews, Blair felt that it wouldn't be too difficult to see most of the people named. They started with some of the lesser names, the ones who dealt with the team from the U.S. Nothing exciting there, except the clerical staff that catalogued all the pieces sent back. They remembered receiving parcels all the time, and had records showing receipts three and four times a week.

In a voice audible only to Jim, Yahokeete commented on the expense and waste that must have generated. "Father would never have accepted that type of sloppiness. One shipment a week was all I ever saw go out - it's really all we were supposed to send."

Stowing that information, Jim suggested they come back and take a look at the archives. They conducted some more interviews, often leaving Yahokeete in the hallways so as not to expose her fully to the professors who would recognize her. Some time later, Blair led them to his office, retrieving his archive keys and grabbing a few last minute materials. Using his own pass-key, he took them into the depths of the Anthropology archives.

As they walked through the rows of native artifacts and research notes, Yahokeete looked around, her head fuzzy and her throat dry...

"Enqueri..." Jim felt her collapsing just as he reached her. Hefting her easily in his arms, they walked a few feet further to a large table by the windows. While Jim pried open one for air, Blair settled her on the table and huddled close to her ear. Using the same calming voice as he did with the Sentinel guidance, Blair eased her and helped her to focus on the cause of her weakness.

"Keep your eyes closed and reach out. What is it you smell? What does it remind you of? It can't hurt you, we're here. We'll protect you."

She twined her fingers with his, once more making the connection betweent hem. The link that was more tangible than words. He saw it and smelled it. Boxes, laden with the heavy scent of smoke. "Jim," he said in a desperate voice. "Focus on smell, we're looking for boxes that are smokey - rain forest smokey ... earthy..." That said, Blair went back to soothing Yahokeete.

Jim sent his Sentinel senses out before him, focusing on the row they'd Just passed. Keete had gone down as they'd passed a certain point, so there's where he returned. Sure enough, the boxes smelled of smoke and something else. Jim grabbed a box and carried it towards the table. As Blair looked up, he saw the other box, the one Jim had left on the shelf, saw it glow and called out for his friend to get the right box. As Jim grumbled under his breath, Blair focused on the box. The glow was more prominent as it was set on the table. Once open, Blair saw the little Golden flames run everywhere.

"You sure it's this one, Chief?"

"Positive." came the dry-mouthed reply, and as Jim went through the box, Blair tended Yahokeete. Stealing a glance at his partner, Jim made a mental note to talk to Sandburg later.

The date on the box read only three days after the attack, and had actually been sent the day of the attack. The shipping lag didn't jive with the rest, each having between 7 and 10 day travel time periods.

"Wonder what's so special about this box." Jim mused. Blair was intrigued, moving forward to search the contents himself. Jim backed off gladly. He knew his Guide would know more about the correct contents of the box. It also gave him a chance to check on Keete. As the two watched Blair sort through journals, sketch-books and general things, Jim carefully wrapped an arm around her for support, holding her close to him. She snugged herself into the crook of his arm, placing a hand on his chest and nudging her head under his chin. It seemed to please him, so he placed his free hand over hers where it rested upon his heart.

"Anything, Chief?" and without turning around, Sandburg smiled at the image formed in his head. He *knew* what was going on behind him and it didn't bother him one bit. It was about time Jim found someone to put him at ease, someone who knew his secrets starting out.

"Whoa!"

"What's the matter, Chief?" And in an instant, Jim was beside him, hand on his shoulder for support. "You OK?"

"Yeah, yeah. This..." he reached for the pieces of pottery again, and the little flames leapt from his fingers to it, like charges. He could feel something about it, but he couldn't sense anything else.

"Give it here." Jim said, trying to take it from Blair's grasp.

"Scale back..." came Yahokeete's voice, and Jim focused his attention again on the smell. He was rewarded with the not too unfamiliar scent of narcotic, cocaine to be exact. Examining it further, he found the scent permeated the whole piece, inside and out.

"What is it?" she asked. He switched easily from smell to touch and found the pottery to be just pottery, but there was something both soft and gritty covering the outside, and even thought the piece had been stored, the residue was heavy enough. Touching a finger to his tongue, his assumptions were verified.

"Cocaine, Chief." and there was a nod of his head. "And sand. All over this, inside and out."

"You better tone it down, that little bit could knock you silly with your sensitivity. Nix the aromatology, now, please." Jim nodded and scaled back to the point of nothing, then noticed Blair handling the pottery.

"Sand, Chief?" Jim asked again.

"That makes sense." and Blair looked to his partner. "When we ship some types of artifacts, we pack them in sand and silica gel pellets for safety. Cushioning. It wouldn't be too hard to mix cocaine in with the sand instead of the pellets - even looks something similar."

"What about customs?" But even as he asked, Jim knew the answer.

"Anyone can be bought for the right price..." Sandburg started.

"And the smell of the silica would throw off the dogs, if they were even allowed to sniff them." That said, Yahokeete pointed to the poison stickers on the outside of the box. The two men looked over to her, standing wearily beside the table. Jim reached for her, the comfort of his hand pulling her into his embrace.

"That would've worked somewhat, but there had to be something else to throw them off." Even though Blair had said to stop, Jim caught a trace of something familiar. Something that wouldn't require a deepened inspection. "Hey, Chief. Grab that little bag in the corner." Without question, Blair reached for the bag, once again rewarded with the golden charge.

"Scale back..." she said and Jim realized she wasn't coaching him, but Sandburg. For some reason, Jim smiled and held out his hand for the bag. Blair opened it and poured a bunch of perfect little beans into Jim's hand. "That's how they got around the dogs."

They searched four more boxes, each had six to seven bags of semi-cracked coffee beans. Even after 5 years, they were still pungent. It was an old smuggler's trick, and it worked well with the right combination of greased palms. Blair removed a couple of the more important pieces and gave them to Jim to take to the station lab. They put the boxes back together as best they could and left the archives.

The dark shadows on the windows hinted that it was late, but none of them realized that they'd been in the archive for a couple hours sorting through the collections and hearing Yahokeete's stories. Looking at his watch, Blair commented that there were only a few people left on campus and it would be better to come back the next day. The remaining two people were in lecture the next day anyway...

"I get the hint, Chief." Jim said with a smile. "I know tomorrow's your normal day on campus, and you've got classes...we'll come with you."

Satisfied with that, Blair locked up his office, noting Jim's glance about the room and the raised eyebrows. "My office, my rules. I have my own unique filing system."

"Whatever you say, Chief. Just reminds me of your room. Speaking of which..." Blair held up a hand and Jim just smiled. They headed out towards the parking lot. As they crossed the campus, Blair cast several glances over his shoulder, trying to be nonchalant, as if he were making references to things about them. As it was, though, his conversation was jumbled and erratic. Once they reached the truck, Jim asked the necessary question. "Did you see who was following us, Chief?"

Blair shook his head in defeat, glancing out the cab window to avoid Jim's stare, and hoping that the big guy wouldn't press for more answers.

"I could hear and smell them, but they weren't doing anything. No cause to detain them - YET." Jim said pointedly. "Don't mind if I take the LONG way home?"

Blair shook his head, grasping the overdoor handle and checking to makesure all seatbelts were buckled. Just about that time, Jim took the truck around a tight corner, the tires squealing and the body rocking sideways. No sooner had the two passengers recovered from that first maneuver than they were subjected to two or three more. After the last move, Jim returned the ride to normal, heading home once again. They made it to the loft without further incident, save Jim's stomach growling noisily as they parked. It helped to ease some of the tension, but not all of it. "I guess that's a hint, huh?" And they all smiled.

"I take it I'm cooking. So, what do you feel like?"

As Jim turned to Yahokeete, he saw the smile on her face and the look in her eyes. She was hungry, but for more than just dinner. Blair, clearing his throat, was slightly embarrassed to see Yahokeete blush.

"Look, I can get something on my own if you two want to go out..."

"No," Jim said emphatically. He'd tried not to sound harsh, but the look on Keete's face said differently. "No, I'll cook. I, uh, don't want to expose her anymore than she already has been. We're lucky no one on campus recognized her as it is...I'm sure there are suspicions flying though."

"Don't think they'll leave it to coincidence that I was asking questions about the woman whose father pays my bills..." There was a bit of a challenge in Blair's voice, why he didn't know.

"Not when she just walked out of the jungle a couple days ago." The men looked to each other, past Keete where she sat between them.

"Maybe the two of you should just go out to dinner. I could return to my father's."

Pain, hurt, disillusion. Each word was full of the emotions, and she communicated it so well to both of them. Reaching past Blair, she opened the door and crawled out over him, heading for the loft. Blair fumbled with his seatbelt, then his keys, leaving some of his books behind.

"Take her up and lock yourselves in. I'm gonna run to the store. I'll be back in 20-25 minutes. And I've got my phone if there's a problem." Jim said as Blair nodded and shut the door, heading quickly to the building.

Jim waited a minute or two for the faces in the window, then headed the truck down the street. He hit the gas a little hard, then the brake and threw himself forward a little. Of course he was mad at himself, he never should have let her stare unnerve him. But it did, and it wasn't smart for him to let himself feel that way. He was supposed to protect her. And he couldn't do that by taking her out to dinner, let alone to the store with him. Hell, he'd probably not come back.

~~~~~

Arms full of bags, Jim headed for the truck from the little co-op he and Blair frequented. Scanning the parking lot, he recognized a few vehicles as residents, and one rental car on the far side. He took it slow out of the lot, then headed away from the area of the loft. The rental followed a ways behind.

*Either coincidence, or they're just bad at this,* he thought in the midst of a sharp turn. When the sedan made the same turn, completely disregarding the "NO Right on RED" sign, Jim popped open his phone and pressed the autodial for Simon.

"Simon, it's Jim. I need you to get any information you can on a car. License plate Whiskey Tango Charlie, seven four one. Rental....agency insignia Quik Fitz Cars. ..It's a black, LTD...how original...We're going west on Belmont, just about to pass the multiplex on the right...They've been on me a while...Yeah. Get a couple units over there. I'm calling right now." And punching the flash, Jim hit the speed dial for the loft, relieved to hear Sandburg pick up so quickly. "Don't ask questions, just get her to your room, lock the doors and kill the lights. Got it Chief?"

"Yeah, I got it, Jim. Everything OK?"

"Would I tell you to do all that if it was? I've got it handled from this end, just get off the phone and do what I told you..." He hung up still shaking his head at Blair. How long had they been partners and Blair still insisted on asking questions like that at critical times? In spite of the situation, Jim laughed. What a partner... Since the units were on their way to the loft already, Jim lead the tail home.

Blair placed the phone in his back pocket, then ran to the kitchen. He grabbed flashlights and Yahokeete and shoved her into his room. Double checking the locks on the front and back doors, he went in search of the breaker switch. It would take too much time to shut off all the lights individually, so Blair took the easiest route. That done, he headed back to his room to guard their guest.

As he pulled into his usual spot, the LTD parked across the street. He focused on the car for a second, or more importantly at the men inside it. Having waited for as long as he could, Jim made the decision to exit the truck. He paced it out, giving the men enough time to see him, but not enough time to get the jump on him. Jim kept his hearing tuned in for conversation or names, or even, God forbid, the sounds of a gun.

Once inside the stairwell, he took the steps in twos, arriving at the door quickly enough to scan for activity inside. Aware of the two heartbeats, Jim set the groceries down, then turned his attention to the stairs below. That's when he heard it, the click of the hammer set. Up went Jim's arms, his 9mm extended forward and his sight lining up on the shadow heading forward.

"Ellison?" Came the voice. "Detective Ellison? It's Officer Sympkins from Downtown. Captain Banks sent us down. We've got the two men from the LTD."

"Up here." he said tentatively and heard the hammer back off, the officer's heart rate lessen. "Did they say anything?"

~~~~~

"Sandburg!" came Jim's voice through the door. "Everything OK?" sounds of the door unlocking, chain and bolt scraping, met him and he smiled expectantly. As the door opened and he focused on green eyes instead of blue, the smile turned down and his brow furrowed. He tried to push past her, but she caught him quickly. Her right hand extended two fingers directly at his sternum. There was a sharp pain, and he searched her face for a moment.

"Where's Blair?"

"He's meditating, Enqueri. He's fine."

"I'm sorry. You surprised me, that's all."

"We saw the lights out the window and felt the relief within you. It wasn't enough for him and I suggested a mantra to soothe his spirit."

They walked to the center of the living room floor where Blair sat - completely still. *The kid can't stay still in a coma, let alone meditation.*

He checked Blair's heart rate, and breathing and found them both to be fine, strong but slow. He turned a smile to Yahokeete, taking a long look at her as he stood. She'd changed back into the skirt, but kept his sweatshirt on - probably for warmth. She was barefoot, again, but the pressure marks on her ankles where the socks had been let him know she'd only just removed them.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, taking a simple step forward. She took his hand in hers and replied. "I am now."

All the denial of the day crumbled away. Once he looked into her eyes, he was lost. His senses were on overload, filled with every bit of her he could manage. So alike, the two of them. Thrust into their own jungles, each with their own peculiar gifts to save them.

Their own responsibilities as well. The stress of dependency bonded them. The fire in their souls drew them to each other. The same fire Jim felt in her touch, in the fingers twined with his. He ran his hand under the shirt, to the bare flesh of her above the skirt, drawing her closer to him as he bent his head, touching his lips to hers.

Fingers rippling up his back kept him close to her and she deepened the kiss. She didn't want to let go of him - ever. Somewhere far away called to her, then the buzzing in her ears started. As she subtly slipped away, she heard the phone and let Jim pick it up.

"Yeah?" came the typical gruff greeting, causing her to touch his chest and shoulders, willing him to relax. "Yeah..yeah. I'll ask him. Thanks for the info, Simon. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Setting the phone down on the table, Jim pulled her back into his embrace. "Just so you know," he started softly, "the two guys who tailed us are students at the university. They were told just to follow us and watch."

"By my father, right?" She sighed, not even needing Jim to nod to know it was true. "I'm sorry for the trouble it caused."

He kept her close to him, scoffing at her comment. "I don't blame him. If you were mine...I'd be....extra...careful..."

*You ARE mine,* he thought to himself, and captured her mouth for another kiss. The phone rang again. Jim kissed her forehead and handed the phone to her. "Wait." he said calmly. The ringer went off a third time, then stopped, only to resume a moment later. "Now." he mouthed to her and motioned for her to answer. He walked to the bathroom, desperately in need of a cold shower, just as she pressed the ON button and spoke.

"Hello, Daddy..."

~~~~~

The familiar smell of the jungle, all at once wet and sweet and hot and pungent. He felt the presence, heard the distinctive long, low, rasping growl, and turned ever so slowly to meet his spirit guide. To his surprise, there stood a sleek, golden coated jaguar. Familiar green eyes looked up at him, both lovely and dangerous. He stood his ground, staring at it with great caution. Its muscles tensed, as he saw it hunch, ready to spring. It came at him in seconds, pounding into his chest with force enough to stifle his breathe. A second growl was heard behind him and he looked up to see his Sentinel spirit poised just a few feet away. The green-eyed jaguar eased back and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he flipped it over. One quick thrust to the chest, and the wrestling beast stilled. As he looked up to the panther, it nudged him away and laid down next to the limp body. To his own horror, Jim looked down at the now transformed body of Yahokeete under the massive black paws.

Jesus! I killed her!" he screamed.

~~~~~

"Jim! JIM!" Blair cried out from the bottom of the stairs. He waited only a second before heading up. *What if she's there, too?* he thought, but headed up anyway, as if something pulled him there. Relief showed on his face as he saw Jim, alone, sitting up in the bed.

"I'm OK, Chief. Just a nightmare."

*But it didn't feel like a nightmare.*

Blair knew his fear the minute he thought it and took a step closer. "What happened? Do you want to tell me?"

"Maybe later...go on back...to...bed..." He stopped. Jim had been scanning the loft for her heartbeat, amazed that he'd been able to hone in on her particular pattern in less than 24 hours, when it had taken so many months to peg Sandburg's. And he lived with him, worked with him...

He couldn't find her. *What if I did kill her?* Nervously, he searched for her scent - gone. At the little comfort that brought, it brought the pain of her absence.

She wasn't in the loft at all. Dashing down the steps, he threw open the door to Blair's room, where they'd agreed she should sleep that night. It was as much for her protection as his, Jim reasoned. He wouldn't have been able to sneak past Blair on the couch. Well, he really could've, but he wouldn't have been able to shrug off the guilt of it.

"She's gone." he yelled to Blair, who came running up behind him.

"Where would she go, man? She knows the dangers. And how did she get out?"

Blair caught the quick chill on his back and turned to see the patio window door open. "That answers that, now. Doesn't it?"

"But not the where, Chief." Jim had run upstairs and thrown on some sweats. A futile search ensued for his ARMY sweatshirt which he then remembered she had, and he threw on something else.

"At least she's warm. Does she have your boots?"

Blair shook his head and pointed to the footwear she'd worn earlier that were sitting next to the heater vent, drying.

"She didn't go far, then." Blair reasoned.

"You're right. Either that, or she didn't want them to hear her coming." The men stared at each other and Blair shook his head.

"No," he started, gesturing with one hand to accent his point.

"She would've left the sweatshirt here if she'd gone hunting. Even fleece grey is too bright to wear and blend in with the shadows."

"Right again, Chief."

"Guess I've picked up a few things from observing you..."

It was a statement said in honesty, but it was the voice that caught Jim's ear. It was calming, harmonically soothing. He'd have to tell Sandburg that later. For now, he had to find Keete.

"I'm coming with you..." Before Jim could protest, Blair presented himself dressed and ready, boots, socks, and a blanket in hand. "It's raining - she'll be cold."

Raining...the word echoed in his mind, and Jim looked to the balcony. Something was rattling in his mind, from the conversation with her father, earlier. He hadn't meant to overhear, but when he noted the change in pitch of Keete's voice, he'd honed in to determine the cause.

"We'll have to go see it when it stops raining..." he said to Blair.

"What?" the younger man asked.

"They were talking about Jeff." Jim responded, suddenly putting the two pieces together. "His grave?"

"Nix." Blair said. "Remember, his grave is back in the jungle. But the memorial monument is only a few blocks from here, in the park. I was there for the dedication by MacK Industries."

~~~~~

They found her sitting at the base of the monument, chatting in dialect to Jeff. Blair recognized many of the words from his earlier tutoring, but he knew what was really going on.

"She's rectifying her failures to Jeff."

Blair and Jim understood in many tribes it was a custom for the family and friends of a fallen member to visit the grave each anniversary and offer up apologies for their failure to protect them. Some warriors were known to commit suicide in order to appease the dead and show their grief. Pulling the coat more closely against the cold rain, Blair handed Jim the blanket and umbrella then headed back to the truck to wait. Jim scoffed, knowing Blair had gone more for his hatred of the cold than for Yahokeete's privacy. Focusing through the ragged downpour, he kept steady watch on her, waiting until she finished before approaching her. When he did, he wrapped her in the blankets and his arms, then carried her back to the truck. Luckily, Blair had gotten cold and started the truck to run the heater. Sliding into the passenger side with Keete on his lap, Jim forced Blair behind the wheel and told him to head home.

She slept in his arms, sitting on his lap the entire way and when they reached the loft, Jim carried her up to his bed, placing her there softly. With a few words to comfort, Jim turned around and descended the stairs. His Guide met him with a fresh cup of coffee.

"She should sleep for a while."

Sandburg looked at his partner, his friend, and then up at the bed and Yahokeete. "Too stressed out, is she? I can understand that."

"There's a lot going on in that head of hers, heart too, for that matter. She's got quite a knot of emotions to work out." The taste of the coffee rolled around his mouth, easing him, as he took a place on the couch, bare feet on the coffee table.

"I think I understand her position." and Blair took the spot next to Jim, sitting forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he inhaled the warm fragrance of his tea.

Jim looked at his partner. There was truth on the kid's face. Sandburg seemed to be untangling his own knot. "You got something to say, Chief, I wanta know. A problem shared..."

"Is a problem halved, yeah I know. Problem is you're half the problem." Blair inhaled sharply, as Jim's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I mean that in the nicest way, buddy."

"Spill it. You're too young for worry lines." Jim smiled, forcing Blair to smile and relax. "It can't be the House Rules, I already know you hate them. I know your life is busy..."

"That's not the least of it."

"It's about the Shaman thing, isn't it?" And Blair nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'm not looking for perfection, Chief. God knows I'm still growing into my role as Sentinel. If I haven't said it before, I think you're doing just fine. I haven't been zoning-out lately, and your tests have helped us to compensate in certain situations." He pulled his partner back to relax next to him. "Thanks."

"Talk about emotional overload." And he looked over at Jim. "I should be thanking you. You took me in, got me in with the department, paid to fix the 'Vair more often than I care to admit, and all the while putting up with my exercises and experiments..."

"Don't forget your eccentricities." Jim smiled and sipped his coffee.

"Just had to throw that in there, huh? Well, yeah, as long as we're sharing. I can deal with eccentric. The point is -"

"There's a point?"

Jim -2; Blair -0.

"Yes," and he laughed through the rest. "I _do_ have a point. Thepoint is, I'm trying."

"Very trying."

Jim - 3; Blair -0.

"I don't want to let you down." Deep breath. *There! I said it.*

Jim smiled and looked over at his Guide. It clicked then and he wondered why he hadn't seen it before. Blair didn't have a father, no role model, and Naomi, well, she was something altogether different - no commitment. How hard was it for a kid like Sandburg to give up the research opportunity of a lifetime to devote himself to his Guide position. Jim understood the baggage his partner carried now. And he hoped he could help carry part of it.

"Neither of us knows what's gonna happen, Chief. You shouldn't feel that heavy about your job as Guide when I'm still not kosher with all my responsibilities as Sentinel of this city. Let alone as your *Blessed Protector.*

We need to work and learn together. Speaking of which..."

*Here it comes.* Blair thought drowsily.

"What's she been coaching you on? I was there in the archive today, remember? And that thing with the stalker this evening?"

"It's a funny thing you mentioned that..." he began and tried to get up. Jim pulled him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder, that didn't leave until Blair had told him every last detail, even regarding the Golden flames. He could tell by the wrinkled brow that Jim wasn't happy to hear that until he explained that he understood the flames, and was working on their control.

In the end, the two were glad they'd talked. Blair took advantage of the moment, and asked about the sleeping arrangements. "And the strategic purpose of putting her in your bed?"

"Safety."

"So you can see if she leaves again?"

Jim shook his head. "She needed to be someplace secure, cocoon like."

"And what's wrong with the couch, or my room?"

"It had to be my smell on the sheets, though, and it had to be in my territory."

If anything, Jim knew Blair would accept the primal logic in that. Whether Jim knew it or not, Blair took the news with a bit of admiration. He knew his partner was street savvy, but jungle savvy as well, wasn't that what Blair was for? A walking Cultural Encyclopedia? The Sentinel had to show his charge, physically, that he could take care of her and protect her. That she was partly his property, mostly his responsibility, while she was in his village.

"Take your room, Chief. I've got the couch."

*No argument here.* Blair took Jim's empty mug and his own to the sink.

"'Night, Jim."

But there was no answer. Noting that Jim was already snoring, Blair walked into his room and crashed, not even getting undressed.

~~~~~

His eyes focused into the shadows of the loft, finding the green eyes behind the raspy growl. It crossed the room to him and curled up, half on his lap, half on the floor. A position of protection, and submission. He laid back on the couch, reaching out one hand to touch the sleeping jaguar's head.

"Everything will be just fine."

~~~~~

As dawn broke through the windows, Blair padded quietly out of his door and towards the bathroom. He cast a side glance at Jim, trusting the man had not slept sitting up all night. His glance became a stare. Sometime in the few hours since their talk, Keete had made her way down to the living room and now rested her upper body on Jim's chest. The big guy's hand nestled gently on her head amid the long golden curls. And as Blair examined the two more closely, he noticed the smile on the Sentinel's face.

"Best to let sleeping Panthers lie..."

By the time Blair was finished in the shower, Jim was up with a cup of coffee and Keete was performing her morning rituals. Blair saw the scowl on his partner's face and then looked to the point of the stare.

"What's wrong?" And without disturbing his gaze, Jim shrugged. "Are you mad at something? Embarrassed?" And that's when Jim knew that Blair had seen her this morning. It didn't really bother him, but it brought to surface a bit of the feelings he was trying to squelch. It had been wonderful to wake up with her there this morning. Calming, even.

But now...he tripped over himself.

"I just..." and he hesitated. "I just don't understand why she has to do that...THAT way."

There was silent observation for all of 10 seconds. Then Blair clapped Jim on the shoulder and smiled. "I'm only observing this from an Anthropological standpoint."

"As opposed to what?" Jim queried with a lopsided grin.

"As opposed to National Geographic Playmate of the Year." And so saying, the younger man moved away before Jim had a chance to respond physically.

Jim followed to Blair's room watching him root out several piles before finding the necessary books for the day. Looking up from the correct pile, he noticed the concern on Jim's face.

"What's up? If I was out of line..." relief passed over him as he saw the shake of the big guy's head. "I can go ahead to campus if you two need some time..."

Again the shaking head.

"Don't leave me alone with her."

That got Sandburg's attention.

"Why, Jim? Does this have anything to do with our talk?"

"Sort of. I'm afraid...I'm afraid I might hurt her."

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head again, but sat on the bed anyway. Blair sat next to him and waited. A moment or two later, Jim explained his dreams, the jaguar, everything. Including the jealousy pangs. Blair absorbed it all, leaving Jim to just stare at the floor for a few minutes. He'd just needed to share, not analyze. And after Jim started a running commentary on the number of "House Rules" violations in the room, Sandburg knew he was feeling better.

With a gentle hand, he helped Jim off the bed and out towards the stairs. Yahokeete could be heard in the bathroom so Jim went to finish his coffee and await his turn. Thirty minutes later, they were on their way back to campus.

~~~~~

They were in luck that morning it seemed. The last two people on their list were now both in one place. As it would happen, Dr. Hector Martinez and his teaching assistant, Julie Matthews, were giving a talk to a group of perspective study volunteers.

They were getting ready to take another group into the rain forest, and it didn't sit well with Yahokeete. She knew this meeting would be the hardest, but as she walked into the Great Hall, and saw the picture of her research team projected 20 feet high, her knees weakened. Jim caught her, giving her support and his own strength of spirit.

"Thank you, Enqueri." And he nodded silently, crossing his arms over his chest, yet standing behind her, ever vigilant. It was dark where the three stood, the only lights the refraction from the screen and a reading light on the podium. Yahokeete stared at the huge forms on the screen, toying with several of her ceremonial braids as if imagining the thickly woven ponytails they had been in the picture. She removed the hat, handing it to Jim, who merely folded it and pushed it into his back pocket.

"This is a picture of the research team as it was before we returned." It was Julie speaking, the combination of podium light and screen refractions lending an eerie outline to her face.

"Why did you leave?" Came a curious voice from the small audience. "Obviously your studies were incomplete."

"We'd been down there as a team for 2 years, completed most of our normal data gathers, and were settling in for more in-depth examinations of the culture. The tribe had taken us in and accepted us as part of them. But as part of them, we had to face the realities of their lives and tribal war is sometimes part of that."

They could hear the emotion in every syllable. It made Yahokeete's eyes water, and she turned her face away for a moment. Alarmed, Jim checked Keete's heartbeat, and Sandburg's - both running very fast, even if their breathing was more stable.

"We had some misdealings with a rival tribe. They attacked one night, burning our tiny village to the ground. We'd been forewarned and had evacuated the necessary women, children, and elders, but..."

Jim placed a soothing hand on Keete's right shoulder at the same time Blair twined his fingers in hers. He knew she needed to share the pain.

To Blair's surprise, there was a sense of calm to her, at least to his touch. Then he looked up at Jim's face and saw the anguish there. She had reached out her thoughts to Jim, helping him to know what she'd already shared with Sandburg. He never flinched, but she felt the hand on her shoulder tighten and relax, his thumb rubbing the nape of her neck in little, soothing circles.

It had been easing her while Julie went on about the attack and how the medicine man and elders had decided who stayed and who left. A spike of fear went through Keete, shockwaves rippling over Jim and Blair. The force of them enough that they turned to each other, then focused on the stage, eager to find the cause of her reaction. Keete tried to help him out, sent out the image to Jim, knowing he would need it, need to feel her pain. A man in the midst of a jungle, out of place with guilt and an exchange with someone.

A flash of pain, and then blackness.

"Enqueri." she whispered and held his hand tightly, where it rested on her shoulder. He refocused, behind Julie and into the shadows. The smell of sweat reached him, tinged with something more familiar...wildflowers. He looked down at the woman in front of him as she handed him the sweatshirt, barely struggling with the sweatpants before they came off as well.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked quickly. But the only answer he got was a cold, green stare.

Her attention returned to the lecture, then.

"We were lucky to get out with our lives." Julie commented quietly. "Dr. Martinez was injured by the attacking tribe."

Jim's sight scoped in, noting the calm exterior marred by the nervous glancing the doctor was suddenly making.

"Our study team was dispelled into the jungle, lost for days. Our equipment damaged beyond repair. Two of our members never returned." Julie gave herself a dramatic pause, cleared her throat, then continued. "The point is, this is not a vacation. Life in the basin is dangerous every day."

Jim and Blair looked at each other, silent commentary on the absurdly bland statement.

"Search parties went out for miles around trying to locate our missing members. The authorities speculated that the two were probably taken captive --like spoils of war." There was a chilling nonchalance to that statement. Jim watched Julie, noting the lip she seemed to be so raptly chewing.

The voice from the crowd again. "Wasn't one of the missing students Casey MacKenzie? The same Casey MacKenzie who walked out of the jungle some days ago?"

That snapped Julie's head around, as she looked straight into the crowd, seemingly pinpointing the source of the

question. "Casey MacKenzie disappeared into the jungle 5 years ago. The person who walked out of the jungle a couple days ago has yet to be confirmed as the woman I considered a sister. If she *were*, indeed, Casey MacKenzie, then I believe in my heart I'd have heard from her personally."

Blair looked expectantly to the figure next to him, hoping to gauge Keete's reaction. Instead, he found Jim holding her clothes, staring after the barefoot warrior who sped forward to the stage. She let out a warning cry then lunged for Julie, grabbing the frightened woman by the arm and dragging her to the front of the stage.

Students ran pell mell from their seats, only to stop a safe distance away and watch the drama unfolding before them. Jim shook Blair and pointed to the tape recorder they'd been using for the interviews. He hit the record button, then moved closer to the Sentinel who stood ready to help if necessary.

A stream of dialect ran out of Yahokeete's mouth, most of which Sandburg didn't really catch fast enough to interpret. She pointed back and forth from the screen to herself, obviously proving who she was. To this attack, Julie could only cringe, collapsing to the floor, her head shaking from side to side in denial. There in her tribal clothes, barefoot and hair askew, their houseguest looked every bit the Amazon Warrior and she was playing it up for these people. With a few last comments to Julie, Keete pulled something from her Shaman's pouch and threw it across the stage. It landed directly in front of Julie, who flinched at the action, then reached quickly to pick up the little silver charm.

She clutched her throat, holding out the matching half of their "Best Friends" charms, then fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Yahokeete wasn't done yet. She spied Dr. Martinez moving off the stage and down the steps. In one fluid movement, she pulled a hidden set of throwing knives, sending them in blinding sequence at the fleeing form. She was immensely pleased when the blades found their marks, pinning Martinez to the span of wood paneling.

Her words to him were threatening in any language. As she moved closer, her tone gained heavier inflection and obvious disgust. She removed the knives with one hand as the other pointed an accusing finger in his chest. One last glance to Julie then Yahokeete turned to walk away.

It was a mistake Martinez would never forget. He said one simple phrase to her.

"You're lying."

She cold cocked him, knocking him unconscious with that single punch. She took a last look at Julie, then ran for the exit. Jim and Blair ran out the front, coming alongside her, wrapping her in the blanket and running for the truck. The Sentinel and Guide had kept to the back of the auditorium, knowing the ghosts that needed chasing were Yahokeete's and Casey's. No one had seemed to notice them, as no one really left the hall, staying to watch the confrontation. Now, as they ran for the truck, the rain began to fall again, and no one seemed to notice them running for the vehicle in a hurry.

~~~~~

Some time later, in an office not too far from campus, the phone rang. Taking a leisurely puff of his cigar, he answered it.

The voice on the other end was scratchy and shaken. "It was her, I swear it. She's here and she's real....She kept going on and on with her accusations. She knows...Dammit!"

"Calm down." came the command. "You are certain?"

"No...Yes..In my gut - I feel it."

"I'll take care of it."

The nervous voice was quiet for a second. "I don't know about this. I can't take any more delays. Anything gets out, there'll be an inquiry and inquiries are tougher the second time."

He exhaled again, then spoke, obviously in a better mental state than the caller. "No one will be conducting an inquiry. She had to have help to get to you, all we have to do is know who and we've got her. So..." and the voice picked up a wicked disposition. "Did you see anyone with her? Has there been anyone around asking questions? Anyone from MacK Industries?"

"Yeah. Some of the other professors had been talking in the lounge about the case. About the research team....A Detective from Cascade and one of the Fellows here...."

"Names. I need names."

"S....Sa.. S..Sandburg, Blair Sandburg. He's the MacKenzie Grant Fellow."

"Fine." and he took a long draw on the mellow Cuban between his fingers. "That's all I need. It'll be taken care of. I guarantee it."

"Taken care of?" came the panicked voice. "What do you mean t..."

He hung up the phone and exhaled. Pressing another button on his phone,he spoke to the person on the other end of the intercom: "I need an address on a Blair Sandburg, from Rainier University, Ms. Horn. Thank you."

~~~~~

It was suddenly quiet, except for the eased hum from Blair's room. The humming continued even as Blair exited the room, and pulled the doors shut, taking a seat at the table. Jim sat opposite him and he chuckled at the sight of his partner. No matter what happened, when Jim's stomach called, Jim answered. At least he'd waited until Blair had taken Keete into the other room to calm her. Blair stared at the half-gone sandwich.

"Don't start with me, Chief. I was hungry. And you know how I get when I don't eat..."

There was no comment from the younger man, just the quick rise of his eyebrows to show his understanding.

"She finally find a calm spot?" Jim asked, looking to his partner, the resident relaxation guru, to see if he'd asked the question correctly.

"Yeah," Blair said through a smile. "I got her calmed and set her up with a Mother Earth CD as well. Figured it couldn't hurt." He pulled out the bread and fixings for his own sandwich. "What say we go over that tape while we eat? I caught some of it, but by your facial expressions, I know you got more."

"Yeah, Chief." Jim began. "And I didn't like it much." He slid his plate aside and pulled the tape player over, starting the recording and adjusting the volume. A stream of dialect came forth and Jim rewound it to hear again.

"She was yelling that to Julie - Something about friendship?" Blair asked.

"Yeah," he said and played the section once more, translating as it went: "That night, Jeff and I told you there was news. We told you in friendship, putting our lives in your trust..." The tape played on, and Jim paraphrased. "Evidently, Julie was Jeff's fiancee, but she had a thing going with someone else. Someone she met that night, AFTER she'd talked to Jeff and Keete."

Blair returned to the table, sandwich in hand. "But what did Jeff have to say? And was it enough to get him killed?"

He hit the rewind again, the dialect coming through possibly more emotional than before. It didn't take heightened hearing to note the catch in her voice. He honed in on the sounds of her heart - somewhere, whether it was the tape

or in the other room. Jim couldn't tell. He could see her, in the jungle, running around the village - her senses and life in chaos, all around her cries of warriors and the crackle of flames. The sound of her heartbeat pounded in his ears. He could feel her pain, see her world crumbling, tumbling around her - the body of Tikopi in front of her as she fell forward into the nothingness.

Suddenly she was gone and nothing was left but the sound of her heartbeat.

Then Jim found himself back in the loft, hands grasping the edges of the table in fear. Blair was behind him, talking to him, that voice of his calling him back from the void. The world resolved into a fuzzy consciousness around him and he realized he had once again started to breathe.

"Jim....Jim... Take it easy. Deep breath, calming, cleansing...." hands on his shoulders eased the muscles that controlled the whitened knuckles clutching the table. They released and fell to his lap, exhausted from tensing. "Geez, man. You really went deep that time."

"Whoah, Chief, I'm back. How long was I out?"

"Only three or four minutes, but you weren't really responding. I thought I was gonna have to hit you with a chair to bring you back."

Blair took his seat again, handing Jim the bottle of water. "So, where'd you go?"

Jim took a big drink and explained the path to his zone-out.

"I think you're the one who needs the meditation, buddy."

"I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

That was understandable. While Jim's body may have been asleep, his mind was troubled with activity. And that was never good; not just for Jim but for anyone around him.

"Maybe you should just take a nap. I've got some stuff to do, and I need to get back to campus..."

Jim's mind quickly focused on the word "campus."

"Nix, Sandburg." came the comment.

"Look, Jim. I've got classes - a full load for the afternoon and tonight. I've got commitments. I'll be fine, and it'll give you - both of you - some needed down time." He took a big bite of his sandwich and held his hand out to Jim to cease any commentary.

He didn't like it, but had to let Blair go. Jim wouldn't be responsible for his partner losing credibility on campus. He'd let him go, but he'd take his own precautions. Like a call to Simon for a plain clothes officer...

~~~~~

An uneventful afternoon led to a quiet lull in Blair's office. He decided to do a little footwork, since he was there, and took a walk down the hall to the Secretarial office. If anyone would know the best part of the story, Mrs. Wells would. She'd been secretary for the School of Anthropology at Rainier going on 20 years. And she _loved_ Blair.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wells. You look lovely today." he said with a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Blair. Such a nice young man, even with all those wild ways of yours." She smiled and touched her ears, letting Blair know exactly where her focus was. "You've got a birthday coming up, what say I take you to get your ears perforated a couple times?" The Sandburg charm was coming out. Jim had said that no matter what age a woman was, there was no resistence to the Sandburg charm.

"Oh, my, Blair. I don't think so, what would my grandchildren say?" She giggled and patted his hand then sat back in her chair. "What can I do for you today?"

Blair smiled and began his real conversation. Within minutes he had the information he needed, on tape no less. He'd even managed to charm the woman into typing his final exam for his one class. As he turned to walk away, he brought their conversation full circle adding just one more ounce of charm.

"And Mrs. Wells?"

She looked up.

"I can't believe you're a grandmother, but if you say so. I'll get back to you on that birthday gift..."

~~~~~

He couldn't wait to get home. He had so much to tell Jim. Blair stuffed his books in the knapsack, closed the door to his office and locked it. Removing the cell phone from his pocket, he rang the loft. "Yeah?" came Jim's voice and Blair noted he sounded better.

"Hey, partner. I've got some info. From the best source around - department secretary."

"Spill it, Chief. And I'll see if it jives with the translations."

Mrs. Wells had filled Blair in on what she considered the more intimate details of the '92 Expedition. Jeff Zybak was completing field work, gone for 2 years, he was ready to come home when they asked him to assist with the team. The week before the raid, Jeff had made arrangements to go back to the University for a visit, and he was bringing his fiancee, Julie, home to stay.

She'd been having problems in the field and Jeff felt she'd had enough. Nowadays, though, everyone knew that Julie was more than just Dr. Martinez's assistant. Mrs. Wells had expressed her theory that the trauma of the attack had brought them together. Julie had moved in with Martinez a scant 2 months after their return to the states.

Jim agreed that it was solid information, especially after he'd translated the tape. The Jeff and Julie connection worked with Yahokeete's comments. She'd been telling Julie that she knew the girl was responsible for ratting out Jeff. If she'd been having a side thing with Martinez back then, it would pull the "good doctor" into the murder equation. Keete had also informed Julie that she should be afraid for herself, that her "lover" had no loyalty and no honor. The rest of the show was Yahokeete vowing justice and an outing of the truth. The commentary to Martinez was her warning that she knew what he'd done and he would come up for justice.

Blair reached his car just as the conversation was closing. He unlocked the door of the Volvo sitting the phone on the roof while he put his books in on the seat. Some of the papers fell out as he did and Jim could hear his laughing curses on the other end. "With you in a minute, Jim." And he shut the door, knocking the phone to the ground. It landed on top of some of the papers as Blair gathered them into some semblance of a pile. He continued laughing at his anxiousness to get things together and get home. One minute Blair was laughing, the next he was lying on the ground next to the phone.

~~~~~

"Chief? Sandburg?" There was the faint sound of feet running, and a distinctive clanging of metal on asphalt. "Blair, hang on. Stay with me! I'm on my way!"

Jim grabbed Keete and put her on the phone to keep a voice going for Blair's sake. Using the loft phone, he'd called it in requesting any unit to respond. The trip to campus took half the normal time, but to Jim it felt like three times as long. It took only minutes to reason where Blair had parked, closest to his building, which just happened to be the most deserted and dark lot on the campus that night. As the truck jerked to a stop, Jim ran right for the crumpled form next to the car. A unit was already there, having arrived only seconds before. They had barely even gotten out of the patrol car. They knelt next to Blair, Keete twining her fingers with his and speaking softly in his ear. Jim had focused

in on his heartbeat right out of the truck. It was an erratic pulse, but it was there at least.

The officers stepped back, commenting that an ambulance was already on the way. Jim removed his jacket, examining the blood soaked hair and the horrid gash before placing the ball of material there.

"It's OK, Chief. We're here."

At the sound of Jim's and Keete's voices, Blair pooled his energy and looked up at them. His eyes were open only a second or two, he smiled then drifted out again.

The paramedics showed up moments later, and carefully loaded him into the unit for transport. Jim took the opportunity to search the lot, finding the tire iron discarded halfway across the asphalt. The officers on the scene bagged it for evidence. Jim looked over to where the EMT's were preparing to leave. Keete was speaking, and he tuned in her voice.

"I will go with him in the transport."

Jim shook his head, his every intention to be the one with Sandburg...

"I don't have a driver's license, Enqueri. We've had enough pain for the evening. Do not add your truck to it."

He smiled in spite of the despair in his heart. She was right, and he wasn't thinking clearly. It was more logical for him to NOT have to see Blair in his state of unconsciousness. He nodded to her as they closed the doors, then retreated to his truck to follow them.

~~~~~

"It's been hours, is he OK or not?"

The impatient tone wasn't missed a bit. Simon put a hand on Jim's shoulder. He understood. He felt Jim pull away as the doctor came out.

"Blair Sandburg. What's his condition?"

"Medicated. And heavily." the man said with just a hint of frustrated satisfaction. "It took us two hours, but we've gotten the wound stitched and him sedated. That's one stubborn kid. He didn't want anesthesia, didn't want pain killers, and didn't want to stay here for treatment."

"Something about a fear of hospitals." Jim commented with a slight smile.

"Yes, well. If it hadn't been for his girlfriend, he wouldn't have made it..."

Jim didn't know what upset him more: "girlfriend" or "wouldn't have made it." He set a firm hand on the doctor's sleeve and asked, "The wound was that bad?"

"No. I would have killed him myself. Like I said, if it wasn't for the young woman calming him down, he wouldn't have accepted the treatment. The gash wasn't big, just very near a major nerve and artery. I had to anesthesize him, and he didn't want to hear that. Hates medicine, he told me. I didn't care if she gave him a Vulcan death grip, he was going to lie still. She's a remarkable person, even if she does dress weird."

Jim did laugh at the doctor's ramblings. At least his Guide was alive enough to be a problem. That was good.

"We'll keep him a day or so, just to make sure he's all right."

"Thanks. Thanks very much." And Jim turned to Simon.

"I'm OK. I've just got to deal with this..." There was insecurity in his voice, something Simon hadn't heard for a very long time. "Any other news?"

Blue eyes pinned Simon. He knew exactly what "news" Jim wanted. Where was the plain clothes officer Jim had insisted on? Simon took a deep breath - the report had only come minutes before, as Simon had arrived at the hospital.

"They found him in a utility closet, bound and gagged, in the wing of Blair's office." He'd tell him later about the beating the man had taken, Jim had enough guilt going through him. "Go home, Jim. I've got uniforms outside his room, and uniforms at the loft." Captain Banks held his hand up to Jim's protests. "Stop. I don't want to hear it. Any attack on one of you is an attack on all of you. Standard procedure. And you really need to get her out of here before the media show up..."

Jim looked to his charge as she came out of Blair's room. She suddenly turned and nodded to Jim, her silent agreement that it was time to go. She walked over to him, leaning her body into his, her head on his chest as she grabbed handfuls of his jacket to steady herself. Jim realized the amount of energy she'd spent keeping Blair calm, and probably alive for that matter. He slid his hands up to cover her, trying to feed his own strength into her.

A slight nod to Simon was all he needed. One last strict instruction to NOT dwell on the incident, and Simon was gone.

Jim brushed his hand up her arm and she shivered. Removing his coat, he wrapped her in it and told her to wait while he brought the truck around. She shook her head, taking his hand and walking beside him to the vehicle. The ride home was quiet, unsteady even at times. Keete never let go of his hand, never moved from his side. They exited the truck from the driver's side, Jim's hands moving then to her waist as he helped her out.

"Come, Enqueri." she said. "We need to get your mind on other things."

~~~~~

He could feel the loneliness as he walked through the door. In a vulnerable moment, he almost called out his habitual greeting of "Sandburg?" It was her hand on his arm that made the words catch. He looked down at her, seeing the strength in her green eyes. He needed that strength, needed her. And she knew it...

"Jim."

It was all she said, but it was enough. He'd had the doubts that she understood who he was as opposed to who she thought he should be and her continued use of his Chopec name was somewhat disconcerting to him. He wanted to make sure she was in the right time and place. This was his town, his life - not her jungle or her village. The concern for her mental state had kept him separated from his desires for her. But now, as she said his name, his own name, he knew she was telling him she was ready to be a part of his world.

Their lips met and the world stopped. The touch of his tongue on her lips and they parted allowing him access to her mouth, the taste of him overwhelming her senses. Strong coffee greeted her, evidence of his many hours of waiting. Then a mellowness from his chewing gum, the best way he knew to counter his hyper-activity. There was also a sweetness, a distinctive taste of his chemistry that she found addictive. Wrapping her arms around him, she deepened the kiss, rewarded by a deep growling she felt rumble through his chest to her.

His mouth moved down her neck, to the tanned flare of her breasts and down the striking blue-paint markings of the tribe, evidence of her time spent au naturale in the village. *When in Rome,* he thought to himself and immediately knew she had gotten the message. He was rewarded with a smile, then another kiss as he picked her up and easily walked the two of them upstairs to his bed.

She hadn't been touched in so very long. Being a Shaman meant doing without many things, one of them was physical affection. Sure she had the activity of tribal rituals, but sexual activity without a commitment was taboo in the tribal procedures. And as Shaman, she had to uphold those mores. Which meant it had been over five long years...

They took their time. There was much to work out, pains to ease and heartache to quash. He caressed every intimate part of her skin, every sensitive spot, the intuition between them eliminating much of the awkwardness.

An unfortunate habit, Jim looked over the railing towards the door, half expecting to see Blair coming through it, as was the kid's habit to show up at inopportune moments. In one horrifying second, Jim's mind flashed on the sight of Blair in the hospital emergency room. Just as he was about to falter, she kissed him, unwilling to let the pain manifest.

*Not now.*

There was a wholeness to him, as he looked down at her beneath him. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Kissing her, touching her, being with her...he growled again, this time striking at her with all the strength and sleekness of his spirit guide.

~~~~~

Dawn covered their joined bodies with soft light, then passed into early-morning sun to illuminate them. As the light turned to mid-morning, they cuddled together and slept. Somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, Jim was awakened by a presence in the loft. Sleepily and softly as not to awaken her, Jim peered down at the floor of the loft and was not too surprised to see two sleek jaguars, one black and one golden, sleepily entwined.

Jim stared until the male lifted startling blue eyes to him, then the two spirits returned to their mates, wrapping themselves protectively around the females.

It was late in the afternoon when the two finally made it to the hospital to visit Blair. Having spent the day in necessary sleep, compliments of the sedatives and the concussion, Blair didn't think anything more about it. It wasn't as if he was dying and needed a bedside vigil. Still, Jim tried to explain their lateness, and in the end realized he'd only confused the kid. They stayed for a bit, discussing the information from all sources. At the first signs of fatigue from Blair, though, Jim alerted Keete and the two headed back to the loft.

They spent the night wrapped in each other again, this time taking the evening to kiss and caress. Using breathing techniques to heighten the pleasure. Jim filled his senses with her, as she did him. A quick call from Simon briefly interrupted their slumber. He'd just wanted to confirm that Jim would be staying on assignment, guarding Yahokeete, and wouldn't be in to the department until necessary. With a large smile, Jim returned to Keete and bed. A couple pleasurable hours later, the two showered and went to the hospital for a more lively talk with Blair. It took all his control to keep the grin off his face under the circumstances.

~~~~~

Satisfied the crack to his head hadn't done any permanent damage, the doctors let Blair go home that morning. They'd only gone to visit, but the look on Sandburg's face said that he plainly expected to leave - doctor's permission or not. One final evaluation, and a small prescription for pain killers, and the three were walking out the doors to the truck.

It wasn't that he wanted to ask, or even that he thought he should know, but as Blair observed his partner and Yahokeete as they walked, he got the distinct impression that he'd missed something. A startling picture of two sleek jaguars, one black, one gold, reached his mind and he stopped in his tracks.

Jim noticed Blair had stopped walking and went back to check on him.

"You okay, Chief? You should be back inside in bed..."

There was a silly grin on his face and he knew it. One look at Jim and Jim would know it too. He bit his lips to keep from smiling too much, and that's when Jim grabbed him by the collar.

"Okay, so you know...I don't want to know how, and I don't want to hear about any tribal customs...let's just go home, we have to figure out how to catch this guy."

The smile wore off as soon as the pain started to come. Blair shut his eyes against the mid-day sun coming in the windows, focusing himself on the smell of his herbal tea. From behind, tender fingers began to massage his neck, easing the pain and soothing his spirit. Her hands stopped, gently pushing Blair's ponytail aside.

"Enqueri," she said in a respectful hush. Jim was at her side in seconds also examining Blair's neck. They smiled to each other at the crescent shape the stitched wound took.

"Oh, tell me there's something wrong, like my head could fall off at any time, or that there's some weird thing stuck in my neck reminiscent of a government conspiracy..."

"We're just looking at the stitches. It's a much smaller gash than I thought it was. You just bleed a lot, I guess." To emphasize his teasing, Jim ruffed his partner's hair, getting a somewhat evil look.

"I did not mean to frighten you. Tell me, Blair." And she came to sit in front of him on the floor. "Have you chosen your Shaman name yet?"

"That's not for me to do." The two looked at each other, then together at Jim. "As the only other member of my tribe, I guess it falls to Jim."

"You're tribe is your village, and your village is many," she responded. "But as the closest, and your Sentinel, Enqueri is the proper one."

Their stare pinned him and he set his coffee mug on the counter. "I'm not good under pressure. So don't think I'm just gonna give you a name in a second or two. Give me a day or so to think it over."

Blair nodded lightly, the pain slightly less, but still enough to cloud his mind from needed thought. Once again, Yahokeete began rubbing his neck and shoulders. Blair sat back and closed his eyes. Golden flames seemed to dance around, swirling behind his eyelids. They formed no particular pattern at first, then, all at once, there was a figure and a face....Blair sat forward, quickly.

"I saw him! I saw the guy who hit me!"

"Whoah, Chief. How?"

"He hit me as I was getting into my car. In the rearview, I bent to pick up some papers I'd dropped. When I came up, he was behind me, the streetlight on his face. Jim, it was Dante Hedaga, Dr. Martinez's international studies student."

Jim was on the phone in seconds. "Okay, Chief. We get him, and we can make the connection we need. Simon..." he started. "We've got a break. I need a jacket made on Dante Hedaga, an international studies student from..."

"Brazil." Blair supplied.

"Brazil. He's connected to Dr. Martinez, one of our primes. You'll have to contact the embassy, and the college,...yeah, it's important." There was a second of silence and Jim smiled. "No, I'll pass on that one...but I will owe you a cigar."

"So, we know that Martinez figures big time into this."

"He could not have handled all the arrangements alone." she said.

"How do you figure that?"

Blair nodded slightly. "She's right. He'd have to payroll customs agents, university staff, even villagers from the basin.

That means money, which his salary wouldn't be able to handle. He'd need help, and I think I know who. Just after you were reported missing..." He sprang up a little fast, balanced himself on the chair, then proceeded to the laptop in its usual place on the kitchen table. A couple buttons and the familiar website was up. Linking into a document, Blair pointed to certain things for reference. "Martinez announced negotiations with a Delgado Enterprises to fund some other trips. The inference was that MacK wasn't a safe or rich enough provider. Anyway, Delgado's company came under fire a couple weeks later and nothing came of the promises."

"Under fire for what, Chief?" As Jim asked the question, Blair could see that he already had an idea.

"Drug trafficking within its organization. A couple major shipments were supposedly brought in through his company, but nothing was ever proven."

"In order to avoid further media attention, he probably dropped out of sight for a while." Jim scratched his chin, taking his hand to the back of his neck in his familiar way. Blair thought it was Jim's unconscious way of ringing answers out of himself until he saw the bite mark that Jim was rubbing. The silly smile was back on Blair's face.

"Now's not the time for that, Chief." and Jim hit him in the shoulder.

"I'm going down to the station and pull some files...that name rings a bell...you two stay here. Keep the doors locked, and the shades drawn. Hopefully if anyone is watching the place, they'll follow me instead. Just in case, there's a dufflebag in the closet. Keep it next to the couch after I leave." He grabbed his coat and cap, and as he prepared to leave, he said something to Yahokeete in dialect. She placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him. As she pulled away, her fisted hand went to her chest in salute.

"What was that about?" Blair asked from the closet.

" I promised to protect you," and she heard him scoff. "With my life if necessary."

~~~~~

"To my death."

The words echoed in his ears all the way to the station. Jim knew she'd take care of Sandburg, as well as Sandburg would take care of her. Especially since Blair now understood what the young woman meant to him. What he hadn't expected was the sense of devotion in Yahokeete's eyes when she'd said it. Her fist to her heart, she'd given him her warrior's promise. Nothing would happen to his Shaman, without costing her her life. The words played over in his head, frequently interfering with the information he was studying. He heard them again, then refocused, bringing himself back to the present and his desk.

The chill went back up his spine as he looked over the computer file in front of him.

Eduardo Delgado; trafficking investigations in several countries arising mostly from informants. The last accusation was 5 years ago, just after the fiasco in the jungle.

Lists of informants, civilians, officers...Jim backed up a page and was surprised at his findings. One name stood out in the reports. A person deep undercover, working at finding the source of the narcotics - the labs and the manufacturers. A person whose cover had probably been unintentionally blown.

Simon knocked and walked forward as Jim looked up.

"You owe me half a box! And I want the best." The Captain took the seat in front of his desk and handed Jim a manilla folder. "I couldn't find anything on a student named Dante Hedaga, but the Brazilian consulate was eager to hand over this."

"Extradition papers? So, Martinez is harboring an international criminal."

"They want Hedaga alive, he's their link to a bigger fish."

"Delgado."

"Yeah."

Simon was used to Jim having answers before he'd even finished the questions. This time was no different. "I can get warrants of any make and model for Martinez, based on this. And the extradition goes without saying. But do we have an address?"

"My thoughts are that they're probably preparing to make a run for it. Hedaga's been staying at Martinez place, and Delgado has a house not too far from there. If we watch Martinez place, I'd lay even money we can get all three at once."

"And what about any local operation?" Simon asked as he stood and picked up the phone.

"They'll need traveling money, and something for a rainy day. Play our cards right and they'll lead us to their warehouse." Jim hefted himself out of the seat and towards the door. "I'm on it, Captain. Call me when you get the warrants."

*Pretty neat* Jim thought to himself as he headed out in the truck. Using the Professor to send back the dope mixed in with some refined sand wrapped around artifacts. A couple of payoffs and the stuff was in the states and in a lab, cooked down to be separated and then recrystalized for cutting, packaging, etc. It was a slick operation, but someone had gotten in the way - Jeff Zybak, DEA Officer Jeff Zybak. It had struck him as odd that Yahokeete had mentioned Jeff being down in the village for 4 years, when the research team had only been there for two. According to the files, he'd been close to placing Delgado and associates in the villages during the time of narcotic delivery.

Evidently he'd found out how they were getting it to the states and was killed for it. But who did it?

His phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Jim, it's Simon. We just found Dan Hedaga."

"Give me an address."

Simon hesitated. "His body was found at the Martinez place..."

"Body?" the chill went up Jim's spine again.

"Two shots to the back of the head."

"Someone's getting rid of witnesses...I'm heading home to the loft."

"I'll get you some back up."

He didn't wait for Simon to hang up, just hit the flash on his phone and tried to dial the loft. He punched the gas heavily as the message played in his ear.

"The number you have dialed is not in service..."

~~~~~

Blair opened his eyes a little, the pain in the back of his head booming forward. Sunlight was streaming across the floor, glinting off the shards of glass that covered nearly everything for 10 feet. He remembered the crash, the complete surprise...the sounds of gunfire. As he lifted his head, the voices became clearer.

"What do we do with her?"

It was Martinez, and from the direction of his voice, he was directly behind the chair Blair found himself strapped into. He tried to undo the knots and found another hand. She had something sharp. Slipping her fingers around his, Blair got the feeling she was OK - at least for now. She handed him the piece of glass and he started to cut at the bindings around his wrists. The movement in his upper arm sent blinding pain through him, and he looked for the telltale red mark where the stray bullet had gashed him. It was all he could do to stifle his groan and listen for more of the conversation.

"She's missing anyway." Came the other voice. "Once her body is found in a storage crate in another country, no one will question it. It'll appear that she just wanted to go back home to the jungle."

The bindings became more loose as a few of the nylon strands gave way. If he could just keep moving...

She shifted in her chair and looked directly at Delgado. "You have no honor, Delgado. Your people cry out for justice at what you've become..."

"Shut her up."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the jerk on her ropes gave Blair an alarming vision. He heard footsteps coming in.

"The car's at the front door." The footsteps stopped dead. "What the Hell? I thought you said you were gonna send her back?"

"We are." Came Delgado's cold reply. "In a long, wooden box."

"Hey, I didn't come on board for this...Murder is not the answer."

"It was for Jeff." Yahokeete said calmly. The feet stepped back and Blair wished to God he could see what was going on. In another second he'd be free. But what then? He spied it still sitting on the floor where he'd dropped it - Jim's bag.

"What do you mean? Jeff died in the raid."

"Jeff died from two bullets to the back of the head."

Julie looked up at Martinez.

"You told Dr. Martinez that Jeff was going to the elders that night, that he was planning on going to the authorities. He'd told you that in confidence, as the woman he trusted above everyone else."

Julie looked down at her in the seat. "I wanted to get away from there. I never meant to hurt Jeff, I just wanted to leave that jungle. Jeff said that there was trouble and he was going to call in an inquiry. That would have meant more time in the jungle and I couldn't wait to get out of there."

"An inquiry, yes." Yahokeete said calmly. "But one that would have involved the DEA and the Brazilian government. One that would have investigated the drug smuggling bond of Dr. Martinez and Mr. Delgado. You told Martinez and he told Delgado and one or both of them had Jeff murdered."

"Drugs? No. Hector was smuggling artifacts to sell - his University pay is so little..."

The ropes gave way but Blair kept his hands still.

Julie stepped away from both men, shrinking back at Martinez's touch. The skeptical look in her eyes let him know she knew it was true. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to his side, forcing the gun into her hands.

"What are you doing?" she cried. "You're hurting me..." The gun was aimed directly at Yahokeete and she could see the torment in Julie's eyes. "Casey, I never meant....NO!"

Martinez began to squeeze the trigger as Julie struggled against him. Delgado had been over next to the window, letting the student and instructor deal with their own loose ends. With strength from somewhere above, Julie managed to kick her elbow back into Martinez stomach, his arm flinching back as she pushed up. The trigger squeezed further, but the bullet went into the ceiling.

Blair knew there was only a moment or two before one of them gained control of the weapon. He tried to cut Yahokeete's bonds, but they had already disappeared. *Chalk one up for her Shaman abilities.* A distinctive smack sounded and someone fell to the floor, from the small sound and Delgado's disinterest, Blair figured it must be Julie.

"Get it done, Hector. The gunfire is sure to bring nosey people."

It only took a second. The second Martinez looked over at Delgado standing by the windows. By the time he looked back, Yahokeete had kicked the gun from his hand, palm-punched him to the chest and ducked behind the cooking island in the kitchen. Blair had gone the opposite way, grabbing Jim's bag and skittering behind the couch. Delgado letfly with several bullets, then slipped away from the windows, and into the quasi shadow of the darkened loft. Blair had reached into the bag and pulled out one of Jim's backup guns - loaded. Not that he wished to use it, but he knew his life, and Yahokeete's, depended on keeping Delgado at bey.

That idea in his mind, he aimed wide hoping the idea of a bullet was enough to keep the villain away.

~~~~~

Jim heard the gunshots from around the corner. He didn't even bother parking in a spot, just stopped the truck on the sidewalk and ran up the stairs. He heard several heartbeats in the loft, but they were jumbled together. The smell of gunpowder and blood slammed into him. That's when he heard it.

"Enqueri," she stated calmly. "11 o'clock."

With silent determination, Jim made his way to the door, a quick peek inside let him see Blair on the floor behind the couch, and Delgado approaching him from the 11 o'clock position.

~~~~~

She could see the man approaching and knew what her vow meant. As his fingers depressed the trigger sending several silent rounds into the couch, she jumped, shielding Blair.

~~~~~

Jim heard her move, felt her move, knew why she'd moved from her safe position. He saw Delgado fire and felt the pain searing into her. He aimed by her direction. With lightning accuracy, Jim took Delgado out, one shot to the forehead. Before the body had even hit the floor, though, Jim was next to them. Blair sat up, dazed and fearful. Jim cut away the cotton of her shirt, peeling it back as easily as he could. She looked up into his eyes, seeing the pain in them, and she muttered something in Chopec.

"NO. Not like this, you won't." he replied. "Sandburg, get me something to stop the bleeding, then take this and get an ambulance here."

Blair ran for the first thing he knew would help then handed it to Jim.

An officer appeared in the doorway just as Blair was calling 911 on Jim's phone.

"Bread? What the Hell..."

"Yeast! The yeast will clot the blood. Just do it!"

The officer surveyed the situation, picking Julie up off the floor as she began to rouse. She took one look around and passed out again.

"There's an ambulance on the way," the officer said. "We had a report of shots fired after Captain Banks had already ordered backup for here. Who needs what?"

Jim couldn't spare the words for the officer. All his attention was focused on easing Yahokeete's pain. His face close to her ear, he whispered soothing words and had her focus on easing her breathing to allow the blood a chance to ebb.

Officers came for Martinez and Julie, taking them away in cuffs. Blair slid the couch out of the way and knelt on the other side. His hand tingled, burned even and he had to touch her. Had to make sure... With some trepidation, he set his hand over the bullet hole, rewarded with little golden shocks dancing from his fingertips to her flesh. Jim kept talking to her, kept her with him mentally while Blair dealt with the wound.

~~~~~

With her breathing stable, and pulse slowed, the paramedics had an easy time getting her on the gurney and to the hospital. Blair, Jim, and Simon waited patiently. There was a sense of calm to them, even when Quinton MacKenzie arrived. He'd banished the press to the opposite side of the street, then introduced himself to Simon. Blair stood in the corner, scorning himself for the pain he'd caused. Jim knew what was going on in his partner's brain - he'd been there.

"It's not your fault, Chief." and he placed a large hand on Blair's shoulder.

"But it feels like it..."

"She was carrying out her pledge."

"I never thought she'd have to though." Blair's eyes were a hazy blue, the color Jim had come to associate with Sandburg's disappointment in himself. "If she dies...I won't forgive myself. The cost is too much, Jim."

The big guy sat down on the back of the waiting room couch, noting the ease in Blair's neck as he didn't have to look up. "What cost is that?"

"The cost to her tribe and her family." he took a deep calming breath. "And to you. I know what she means to you, and I can't help being afraid you'll lose her."

"I'm gonna lose her anyway, Blair." They stared at each other. "Her tribe needs her. She isn't staying, Chief. She never could. She allowed me to share her life for a while, but the warrior code is clear. For the betterment of the tribe, at any cost."

*At the cost of a life. Whether that life is physical or emotional...*

A few hours later, the doctors came out. "She's doing fine, and we'll let her go home in a couple days."

"Did you get the bullet out?" Mac asked.

"It's lodged in the back of one of the ribs."

"Is there any future danger?"

The doctor shook his head, a look of astonishment on his face. "The wound is fresh, but the bullet..." he hesitated. "The bullet is pretty much frozen in place by tissue. Welded, if you can imagine, in one spot and will likely NEVER come undone. Tissue like that usually takes decades to form. Whatever caused that, is what saved her life. The bullet could have shifted during transport, and gone straight into the lung. Nope, I've never seen anything quite like it..."

Jim clapped Blair on the shoulder. But it wasn't enough for the younger man. He grabbed Jim and hugged him, then backed up and stared at his hands. Jim looked at his partner and whispered softly and earnestly - "Thank you."

"She's asked to see Detective Ellison."

At the mention of his name, Jim walked forward and was lead back to her room. She was slightly pale, but smiled at him as he entered. He didn't care who was around, he bent his lips to hers and kissed her appreciatively.

"How ya feeling?" and he smiled.

"Is he OK?"

"Te-aku is fine." She smiled at him.

"You've named him well. Te-aku: fire's touch. It suits him."

"Yeah, Sandburg's pretty touched in the head..."

"You joke, but I know what he means to you..."

He knew she did, too. He'd never be able to thank Blair enough for what he'd done, even if the kid didn't know exactly how he'd done it. "He knows what you mean to me."

She looked tired, so he kissed her again. Longer, more intimately this time, and caressed her cheek. "I'll be back in the morning. You rest."

She nodded slightly, then closed her eyes to sleep. He bent down to her ear and whispered softly. "To my death, Casey."

"Yes, James." She replied.

~~~~~

The news was quiet that day. The loft was quiet too. Jim had packed some things for her the night before, little things that he wanted her to have. A sweatshirt, a hat...a picture of him and Blair. The past week had been a wash in terms of personal time. She'd insisted on leaving the hospital the day after the accident, much to the doctor's disapproval. Jim had silently waited to take her to her father's, fully expecting not to see her again until she was ready to leave. He was surprised when he heard the door shut late that night, knowing Blair had retired early that evening. He was even happier when he saw her standing at the foot of his bed. And so it had gone that way, with Casey spending her days with her father and the business world, and Yahokeete spending her nights with him.

Then there was THAT day. She'd requested that Jim and Blair take her to the plane, the private jet that her father insisted on sending her in.

As they sat in the private lounge, Jim tried to speak to her. Knowing neither of them would be open in front of him, Blair had conveniently taken a walk. In the end, they'd been mostly silent.

"Keete," he started. "I wish you a long, happy life."

"And I you, Enqueri."

"If ever you need me, you know how to contact me...you know who can help."

She nodded.

"I got this for you. It's something I want you to have..."

Jim opened a small case, pulling out a silver necklace. The medallion was hand made, with a jaguar-spotted crescent moon on the one side, and their initials on the other. "It's the best I can do..."

To keep her in his heart as he knew she would.

"It's all I need, Jim. And more than I asked."

Blair returned then, commenting that her plane was ready and he wanted to say good-bye as well. "Maybe not as well as Jim did, but..."

~~~~~

She sat on the plane, watching clouds go by. Her hands folded protectively over her seatbelt. "Another time, Enqueri..."

~~~~~

Jim had just plopped himself in the chair across from the TV. The board over the broken window at least cut the glare. Still, he flipped stations endlessly until Blair crossed to him and took the remote away.

"I expect you'll be moping for a while, but four times through 125channels is enough for anyone." Jim took a deep breath, but it didn't help, he could still smell her presence.

"I'm gonna take a walk, Chief. Clear the sinuses."

I'll take care of dinner, man."

His hand was on the doorknob, coat in hand when the knock came. Opening it before the second knock, Jim was surprised to see Mac standing there, a package in his hand.

"Were you on your way out?" he asked. "If you have a minute or two..."

Jim motioned him in. "What's up, Mac?"

"I was given strict instructions not to give you these until she was in the air. This is for you, Jim. From Casey..."

He tore the simple brown paper off and opened the archival box. It was a scrap book of sorts. Pictures of villagers, sketches of the jungle. On the bottom was a framed picture...a man in camouflage and warrior's striping, and a warrior. It was Incacha, and to his own surprise, himself. He didn't know how it came to be in her possession...the only time they'd ever had their pictures taken was by a young college kid....Jeff?

Blair put his hand on Jim's back, silent support. "That's great, Jim. The link you were looking for."

"And these are for you, Sandburg. She said it goes with the grant."

Blair took the keys from Mac, turning them over in his hand.

Aren't they..."

Blair looked at Mac, then to Jim, then back to Mac.

It's downstairs." Mac said casually, but Blair was halfway down the steps as it was.

Jim walked down to the street level, still carrying the book.

It was gorgeous. From the light bezels to the bumpers to the distinctive curve of the windshield. The kid already had the top down!

"It was Casey's, and she said she wanted you to have it..."

"This is too much."

But Jim could see that Blair wasn't getting out of the car. "Well, Chief, guess you Shamans have more in common than I thought. I didn't think anyone else in the world would ever drive a Corvair." Jim laughed and took the passenger's seat.

"This isn't just a Corvair. This is a '64 Spyder Convertible. It's got a turbo engine."

"Does that mean it breaks down twice as much?" Jim said and hit the jubilant young man in the shoulder, immediately sorry as he saw his partner wince in pain. "Sorry, Chief."

"This car," Mac started. "Comes with conditions."

That caught their attention.

"Casey...Yahokeete wants your promise that you will take care of this car with the same care and devotion you give your Sentinel." Blair took a second and gazed over to Jim, whose stare was fixed on Mac. The two men exchanged a nod, then focused back on the anthropologist.

"I promised her that I would help as well. For so long as you have the car, if anything goes wrong, there's a number in the glove compartment, call them. It's the MacK private garages."

Blair looked to Jim and he nodded. The key turned and the car came to life.

"One more thing," Mac said calmly. "I do need a ride home."

**Finis**

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