by Carol Roi
He paused, taking a long swallow of his cooling coffee, then meeting Jim's eyes again. "You are my Sentinel, and I am your Guide. My relationship with Dee is never going to change that. We are soulmates, you and I, but Dee is the mate of my heart. Please don't make me choose between the two of you, Jim, because I will always choose you, and you will always wonder if I made the right choice."
Jim looked into his partner's face, seeing hope and fear mingling in his eyes. The Companion's words came back to him in a rush. What kind of man was he, to deny his partner, his guide, his soulmate, that kind of happiness? "I won't make you choose, Blair. I just need to know one thing. Does she feel the same way about you?"
"Yes," said Dee quietly from the bedroom doorway. She walked into the room, clothed, Jim was glad to note, in a plaid flannel shirt and a pair of long underwear. Settling herself on the arm of Blair's chair, she rested her hand on his shoulder, and his came up to cover it. A look passed between them, and Jim could swear an entire conversation was carried out in the few seconds before she turned her gaze back on him. "I love Lobo, Ellison, though I don't have the talent to say it quite as beautifully as he does. To borrow from him, Blair is the mate of my heart." She smiled down at him, and Jim watched his guide's face light up at her attention. Witnessing that moment between them, the Sentinel knew he'd made the right decision.
A yawn from the other side of the room broke the spell. Megan leaned against the doorjamb, stretching, dressed in clothes that were obviously Dee's. The sleeves of the sweater came down over her hands, and she'd rolled the bottom of the leggings up. She yawned again, and said, "What'd I miss?"
"Oh, not much," Dee laughed, "just the signing of the Pallas-Ellison peace treaty." She shot a glance at Jim, and was relieved to see he was smiling.
Pushing her tangled hair back, Megan walked further into the room. "About bloody time, you two." She gave Jim a playful swat on the back of the head. "See, you should have listened to me." Eyeing the coffee mug in Blair's hand, she said, "Any chance of getting something to eat? I'm starving."
"Sure, Pajara," Dee said, getting up. She started toward the kitchen then turned toward the cabin's front door, her expression intense.
"Dee, what is it?" Megan asked.
"We have company," Blair answered for her. He got to his feet, his hand going automatically to her shoulder, helping her focus. "Friend or foe?"
Dee frowned, her expression puzzled. "Friend, but... " Crossing to the door, she opened it, surprising the man standing there. "Duncan? What are you doing here?"
The dark haired Immortal recovered quickly. "Diandra," he said, pulling her into a quick hug. "Joe sent me out to check on you. He said there might have been some problems last night?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and inclined his head toward the three people behind her.
She shook her head, indicating not here, not now to him. "We're fine. Come on in, and let me introduce you to everyone." Taking his hand, she dragged him into the cabin. "Duncan MacLeod, this is Megan Connor, she's a police Inspector from New South Wales on exchange with the Cascade PD."
Duncan shook her hand, as a self conscious Megan managed to mumble, "Pleased to meet you."
"And this is Detective Jim Ellison of the Cascade PD."
Jim took the extended hand, saying, "We've already met."
"Yes, we have," Duncan echoed, his eyes hard.
"Duncan, behave!" Dee warned, punching him lightly in the arm. "And this," she said, reaching out her hand to Blair, "is Blair Sandburg, anthropologist slash police observer and mi corazon, mi quierido."
Duncan turned toward her, a grin spreading across his face. "So this is the famous Blair Joe talks so much about?" At her nod, Duncan enveloped a stunned Blair in a bear hug. "Glad to hear the two of you are back together," he said softly in Blair's ear, then added, "but if you ever hurt her again, there'll be a line forming to beat the crap out of you."
"I understand completely," Blair replied, a little shocked by the other man's vehemence, but glad there was someone besides him looking out for Diandra's happiness. "I promise it won't happen again."
"Okay, folks," Dee said, a hand on Duncan's collar tugging him away from the Watcher, "who wants to help me fix breakfast?"
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After breakfast, the mixed group of mortals and immortals decided to check out the remains of Simon's cabin to see if anything of Jim and Megan's could be salvaged. Duncan volunteered to pair off with Diandra in one canoe, while Blair, Jim and Megan took the other.
Once they were out on the lake, and enough distance separated the two watercraft that a conversation could only be overheard by Sentinel ears, Diandra glanced back at MacLeod and said, "Okay, you got me alone for a reason, so spill it."
Chuckling softly, Duncan shook his head. "I never could keep anything from you. All right, to be honest, I'm dying of curiosity. Who in the hell are these people, Dee? Joe talks about Blair like he's adopted the man, and then in the same breath he swears he will kill him if he hurts you again. And from our only conversation regarding Detective Ellison, I figured the next time I saw him he'd be missing a body part... or two. I'm not quite sure what to make of the lovely Inspector, but judging by the way she looks at you, there's more going on under the surface there as well.
"And most importantly, how come they feel like one of us? I thought I'd walked in on an Immortal convention when I entered the cabin. They can't all be pre-immortals."
"They're not, Mac." She sighed. "You've been around awhile; have you ever heard of Sir Richard Burton's sentinel research?"
Duncan nearly let the paddle be yanked out of his hands as he dipped it in the water without stroking. "Sentinels? This is about Sentinels?"
"So you've heard of them?"
"Heard of them! Hell, Dee, I was on the trip with Burton when he first encountered them in Paraguay."
Now it was Dee's turn to be surprised. "You never said a word... "
"I didn't know that was the subject, besides, I didn't think there were any left. They were a dying breed when Burton wrote about them." He cast an appraising eye at the occupants of the other canoe. "Let me guess, Ellison's a sentinel, right? That would make Blair his guide. So Megan's the pre-immortal?"
"She's a guide too, Duncan."
"What's a Sentinel need with two guides?"
Diandra turned halfway around to grin at him. "Megan's my guide."
This time Duncan did drop his paddle.
By the time they had detoured back for it, the others had already reached the shore and were waiting impatiently for them as the two immortals dragged their canoe up on the beach. If Ellison had overheard any part of their conversation, he gave no sign of it.
"Sorry," Dee apologized, "someone couldn't hang on to his paddle." She'd brought Duncan up to speed on some of the other particulars, such as the fact that Blair and Jim knew about Immortals, but Megan was in the dark.
It took them a good half-hour to hike to the cabin, and once there, Jim, Megan and Blair began to investigate the ruins. It didn't look quite as bad as it had the night before, Dee decided. Most of the damage had been contained to the kitchen, though the two walls on that side of the building would need serious help, and a new roof was definitely in order.
Dee walked over to where Duncan was examining scorch marks on the trunk of a large pine. "This your work?" he asked. At her nod, he continued, "That's why Joe called me. Your watcher had reported in about a Quickening, and he was afraid it was yours."
"Not this time," she replied, running forward a couple steps and leaping up to grab the tree's lowest branch. Hoisting herself up, she climbed until Duncan could no longer see her through the branches. A few minutes later she reappeared, moving easily from limb to limb, pausing on one about fifteen feet up, then leaping to the ground, tucking into a flip before executing a perfect landing.
"Show off," Duncan remarked.
She stuck her tongue out at him and fussed w
ith the position of her swords on her back, their retrieval being the reason she'd climbed the tree in the first place. As hard as she tried to act like everything was fine, her friend sensed there was something bothering her. "Maybe you can clear something up for me," he said. "Joe told me that the people after Blair were drug dealers, not Immortals. So how did you end up taking someone's head last night?"
Closing her eyes, Dee turned her face away from Duncan, biting her lip. She felt his hands grip her shoulders gently, and she didn't resist as he turned her back toward him. "Duncan... I... he wasn't the only one I killed last night." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I didn't know he was immortal; I just knew I couldn't let him hurt anyone anymore. I killed his men, then went after him. I challenged him, and discovered he had no idea what I was talking about; he was a new immortal, knew nothing of us, or the Game. I killed him anyway... ."
"Diandra... "
She shook her head. "I couldn't let him go, rules be damned... He was evil. If I let him escape, told him what he was, he would have become a threat to us... another Xavier St. Cloud, an immortal who disobeyed all the rules of conduct, who betrayed his own kind... "
Duncan pulled her into a hug, and she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "Do you know what he was going to do to Jim and Megan? He was going to crucify them, right there, on the tree I just climbed." She raised her eyes to his, her expression intense. "There was no way I was going to let him do that... no way I was going to let him live for even thinking about doing such a thing." A movement behind Duncan caught her eye.
Megan stood there, her face white, her eyes wide with fear. It was obvious she had overheard Diandra's words. Letting go of Duncan, Dee moved toward her, her arms outstretched. The Aussie hesitated for a moment, then fell into them, finally giving in to the tears she had been holding in since the night she had been attacked in Seacouver. Dee simply held her, whispering "It's okay, it's over, it's over... "
Blair and Jim exited the cabin, both of them coming immediately to the side of the two women. Without a word, Blair laid his hands on Dee's shoulders, and Jim did the same for Megan, adding their strength and support. Duncan simply watched, shaking his head slowly in amazement. Even his untrained eye could see the connection, the bond, between the Sentinels and Guides. He wondered what his friend Burton would have said, had he been there. Probably something about the Sentinel/Guide bond transcending the boundaries between two humans, turning polar opposites into friends, and friends into soulmates. For a long moment, he envied them.
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Glancing at the clock on the wall outside the courtroom, Dee stifled a yawn. Court would be in session soon. She still hadn't quite recovered from the events of the past three days, despite being able to sleep in her own bed last night. She had been unable to settle down, and she finally realized it was because the bed was too empty. She took a look at the anthropologist sitting next to her on the bench. He hadn't slept well either, judging by the dark circles under his eyes. The guide on the other side of her seemed to be the exception to the rule. Megan's eyes were clear and bright, and she seemed eager to get on with the show.
Or maybe she'd just had too much caffeine. Dee seemed to recall more than one cup of coffee passing through her hands that morning.
Blair leaned a little closer and asked, "How are you holding up? You didn't have to come sit with us, you know."
"I'm fine, Lobo, just wondering where Jim is. I thought he was going to meet us here."
"He'll be here," Blair said. A man in a dark suit carrying a briefcase rushed past them and into the courtroom. "Hey, Megan, isn't that Cristo's lawyer?"
Megan nodded, then turned to Dee. "Can you hear what's going on inside?"
Closing her eyes, the champion stretched out with her hearing, glad of Megan's guiding hand on her arm, helping her focus through her tired state. "He's telling the judge and the prosecutor that he's been unable to get in touch with his client. Now the judge is asking the defense and the prosecution to meet with him in chambers."
"Good," said a new voice. "Maybe then you two won't have to testify." Dee opened her eyes to see Jim approaching.
"We were beginning to wonder about you," Blair said.
"I had to drive back to Seacouver to get H's truck out of impound. They towed it as an abandoned vehicle." He grimaced. "My wallet is now $200 lighter."
"Well at least that's taken care of," Megan said. "Seems like the only thing left unsolved is what to tell Simon about his cabin. He was grilling me earlier for an explanation."
"If it's that big a problem, I'll just write him a check for enough money to make him forget about finding out what happened," Dee volunteered.
Blair shook his head, suppressing a grin. "A check that big would have the IRS sniffing at his heels, wondering were he got that kind of money on a cop's salary."
Jim sighed. "Maybe he can sell his insurance agent on it being an act of God."
"Or the four of you can come up in the spring and help me rebuild," boomed Simon's voice from behind Jim. "Don't think I don't know you had something to do with it." He pinned each one of them for a few seconds with a glare, taking in the relaxed aura about them. Blair had his arm over the back of the bench, behind Dee's shoulders, and her hand rested possessively on his thigh. Diandra's other hand was entwined with Megan's, and the look in the Aussie's eyes bordered on territorial. The really strange thing was, Jim seemed to be okay with all of this. Simon could sense none of the tension or simmering anger he'd noticed before when the Sentinel was around Diandra. Something had happened that weekend, something momentous, and if it had taken his cabin exploding to get the two Sentinels to peacefully coexist, then it would be worth every penny he had to pay in repairs.
At that moment, the doors to the courtroom burst open, and the lawyers for both the prosecution and defense came out, trailed by members of the media. An impromptu press conference was convened in the hallway, and it was announced that Cristo was believed to have fled the country.
"Guess that's our cue to leave," Jim said.
The trio on the bench rose, Megan giving first Jim, then Dee a hug. "Thank you so much," she whispered in the Immortal's ear. "All morning I kept expecting to see Cristo come walking down the hall. Now I know it's really over."
Dee squeezed her back. "You'll never have to go through something like that again, I promise you, Pajara." Kissing her forehead gently, she stepped back. "Come on, I'll treat you all to lunch."
"It's not even 10 am, Pallas," Simon growled. "These people all have work to do."
Diandra gave him her most beatific smile. "You're invited too, Captain."
"Oh, well in that case, I know this great restaurant... ." He started off down the corridor, Megan following.
Diandra turned her gaze to Jim. "I never thanked you properly for what you did the other night, for watching over Megan, and for finding the courage to help me." She slid her arms around the detective, giving him a long hug he awkwardly returned.
Blair tapped Jim on the shoulder. "Come on, man. Let go of my girlfriend, and let's go eat. I'm starving," he teased.
The two separated each giving him their own version of "the look". "Hey, no fair double teaming me!" Blair protested as a playful swipe from Jim caught him on the back of the head. He skipped backwards out of range. "Jim, man, we're going to have to have a talk about this guide abuse thing. You keep it up, and I may have to sic my girlfriend on you!"
Jim gave Dee a sideways glance. "You've been a couple for what, two days, and already he's ordering you around. You going to stand for that?"
Dee's broad grin was infectious. "No," she said, edging in Blair's direction, an evil gleam in her eye, "I'm not. Wanna give me a hand?"
"Oh sh... " was all Blair had time to get out of his mouth before Sentinel and Champion gave chase.
EPILOGUE
Somewhere in South America, a telephone rang. A button on the phone was pressed. "Ho
la."
"Jefe?" said a frightened voice.
"Si. Que paso, Frederico?" The dark haired, olive skinned man leaned back in his leather desk chair and steepled his fingers across his stomach.
"Jefe, algo malo ha sucedido. Su hermano... que pienso que él es muerto... murdered... ."
