Jim scowled at Blair, then reached over to tap him playfully on the forehead. "Show a little respect, Sandburg. That truck is your ride home later."

  Blair chuckled lightly. "Yeah, well personally I can hardly wait to get back to the loft." He scooted closer to Jim. "It's cold up here."

  Jim stared at Sandburg and shook his head--Blair's coat was zipped up around his neck and his hands were protected by his gray fingerless gloves.

  "Sandburg, it has to be at least fifty degrees up here. It is not cold."

  "Maybe not to you, but I'm freezing, man!" Blair wiggled over even closer and whispered, "Do you think we're going to get the drop on these guys today?"

  Ellison shrugged. "Never know. It's just a matter of the boss showing up, then we call in the troops."

  "And if he doesn't show?"

  Jim smiled. "Then you and I go home, have dinner, and get some sleep. Let Henri and Rafe worry about it on their shift." He turned back to the scene below.

  "Jim?" Blair whispered again, leaning in close to his friend. "Um... There's something I need to ask you."

  One corner of Jim's mouth pulled upward. Finally! He shot Blair an inquisitive glance and raised one eyebrow. "So ask, Chief."

  "Well, it's about Dr. Stoddard."

  "Eli Stoddard? The guy who asked you to go to Borneo?"

  "Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, he's back. He stopped in to see me today."

  After several seconds had passed and Blair didn't continue speaking, Jim looked over at him. "And?"

  Blair grimaced. "I don't want you to be upset, Jim, but... well... Dr. Stoddard knows you're a sentinel."

  Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise. "He told you that?"

  Blair nodded. "He said he suspected it when I started working with the PD. He figured it out for sure when I stayed behind to work with you three years ago."

  Jim considered that. "Makes sense. So, do you trust him?"

  "Yes. Completely."

  Jim shrugged. "Okay," he said simply, turning back to survey the parking lot and building below him. He stayed quiet, waiting for Blair's reaction. It took only seconds.

  "Okay?" Blair whispered incredulously. "That's it? Just 'okay'?"

  "You expected something more?" Jim asked innocently, turning toward Sandburg again.

  "Well, yes, Jim," Blair stammered out, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I thought you might be upset or worried or... or something."

  Jim chuckled. "Chief, if you trust this man, then that's good enough for me."

  Blair was silent for a moment. "Oh. Okay. Thanks."

  Jim bit back a smile and pretended not to notice his partner's surprised scrutiny--Sandburg was staring at him as though he'd never seen him before.

  "Um, Jim?" Blair continued at last, "There's more. Dr. Stoddard would like to meet you."

  "Why?"

  "Why? Because you are a sentinel!" Blair scooted over next to Ellison, leaning in against the detective's arm. "Maybe you forget sometimes how special that makes you," he whispered fiercely, "But others of us aren't quite so blasé over your abilities. Besides, he thinks he might be able to help us. He wants to work with me on my writing--figure out some way I can publish without revealing your identity."

  "Do you think he can do that?"

  "He wants to try. And think of it, Jim. We'll have backup now. If something comes up that we can't handle or don't know how to handle, we'll have Dr. Stoddard to help us."

  Jim held up one hand. "Whoa, whoa! I don't know, Chief... We've handled things pretty well on our own for four years now."

  "I know, Jim. But this will just give us another resource, some support."

  Jim shook his head. "I understand what you're saying, but let's just take this one step at a time, okay?"

  Blair looked a bit crestfallen over Jim's reluctance, but nodded his head after a few moments. "Okay. One step at a time."

  "Good. Now, when and where do I meet Dr. Stoddard?"

  Blair flashed Jim his most hopeful smile. "Tomorrow night at the loft? Dinner at seven o'clock?"

  Jim shook his head. The kid had it all planned out. Feigning annoyance, he shook his finger at Blair. "All right, Junior, we'll have our dinner. But I'm telling you right now, no tests! Some of that stuff you put me through is bad enough; I don't want your Dr. Stoddard dreaming up new ways to torture me."

  Blair chuckled. "I promise, Jim, no tests. Just a nice, quiet dinner so the three of us can talk." That settled, Blair lifted the binoculars and began adjusting the focus again. "I'm going to get these things to work if it kills me," he muttered to Jim. "You'd think the department could lay out some cash for some quality equipment instead of this cheap junk..."

  Smiling at his partner's good humor, Jim turned back to his surveillance and quickly scanned the parking lot below him again. Everything was as it had been before--businesslike and lacking in any suspicious activity.

  Jim's mind turned back to his conversation with Blair. He had to admit that he was a bit surprised that Dr. Stoddard's knowing of his abilities didn't worry him all that much. But Jim was certain that if Blair hadn't fully trusted his professor, he would have never offered to set up a meeting.

  He also knew, however, that only part of his unconcern lay in the fact that Blair trusted Dr. Stoddard so completely. Truth be told, Jim had more important things to occupy his mind than Blair's mentor discovering what he was... Jack Kelso was supposed to have called him earlier today and give him an update on their current "project," but he hadn't. And it worried Jim.

  Covertly, he glanced over at Sandburg, who was still intently working at focusing the binoculars. Jim frowned--he didn't want Blair around when Kelso called, didn't want his partner finding out about his dealings with the ex-CIA agent who now worked alongside Blair at Rainier.

  Jim was certain Blair would be angry over what he and Kelso were doing, but the detective was determined to bring Dr. Marcus Grant back to the states for trial. And Jack Kelso was just the man to help him accomplish that goal. With Jack's CIA and other government contacts it had been easy to locate Grant, even though no one could legally touch the doctor as long as he was in Italy. But Grant was showing signs of moving on again, and Kelso already had an operative in position to follow him.

  A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of Jim's mouth. He was sure that it would just be a matter of time before Grant slipped into their hands...

  Part Two

  Blair stifled a yawn and twisted his body slightly in an effort to alleviate the small yet aggravating pinching sensation that had settled across his upper back and shoulders. He and Jim had been on stakeout until after ten o'clock the previous evening and Blair's body was protesting the long hours spent on the cold, hard roof.

  "Next time I'm bringing an inflatable mattress and a sleeping bag" he grumbled to himself as he made his way toward Dr. Stoddard's office. "Maybe two sleeping bags," he amended as he thought of how chilly it had gotten after the sun had gone down.

  Stopping in front of Dr. Stoddard's office, he rapped on the door. "Come in," the professor's familiar voice called from within the office.

  Pushing at the door, Blair poked his head in but didn't enter. His mentor sat behind his large oak desk, intently studying a thick binder of paper. Even though Dr. Stoddard's head was down, Blair could see the deep lines of concentration that etched their way across the older man's forehead. "Hi, Professor Stoddard," he said brightly, "I can't stay, but I wanted to stop by and let you know that we're on for tonight."

  Dr. Stoddard closed the report he'd been perusing, his fingers playing nervously over the cover. He glanced up at Blair. "Tonight?" He shook his head in confusion.

  Blair frowned. "You were going to come for dinner. To meet Jim."

  Stoddard nodded. "Oh yes, of course. How silly of me to forget." The professor removed his glasses and rubbed a hand across his forehead, his gaze darting back down to the report on his desk. He looked tired... no, more than tired. He looked disturbed, like something was bothering him.

  "Is something wrong, Professor?" Blair asked as he stepped into the office and crossed to his desk.

  "No, no. Everything's fine." Stoddard waved a hand, dismissing Blair's concern. "It's just been a bit more taxing than I expected getting back in the swing of things."

  Blair nodded, but deep down he couldn't help but feel that the professor wasn't being entirely truthful. If anything, the work of getting back "in the swing of things" would have exhilarated Dr. Stoddard. Even at his age, the man retained an enthusiasm for his work and his students that rivaled colleagues half his age. No, there was definitely something more going on than a busy schedule.

  "What time should I arrive?" Stoddard asked, shattering Blair's reverie.

  "Hmmm? Oh. Seven o'clock?"

  "Perfect." He smiled, but the smile looked forced to Sandburg. Uncomfortable.

  Blair handed a small piece of paper to him. "I wrote out the directions to the loft." Pointing to the bottom of the page, he added with a wry smile, "And that's our home phone in case my directions don't make sense."

  Dr. Stoddard nodded, failing to pick up on Blair's light tone. "I'm sure I'll find you with no problem," he answered distractedly. He stuffed the paper absently into his jacket pocket, then seemed to rally to the conversation at hand. "Tell me, can I bring anything?"

  Blair shook his head. "Just yourself and your appetite. I hope you like lasagna?"

  "One of my favorite dishes."

  "Great." Blair hesitated. He didn't really have anything else to say and he had a class to teach in twenty minutes. Still, he didn't want to leave. "Professor, are you sure everything is all right? Are you feeling okay? Because we can postpone tonight--"

  "Everything is fine, Blair," Stoddard interrupted with a kind, tired smile. He waved his hand toward his office door. "Go. I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do than fuss over an old man."

  Blair smiled. "You're far from being an old man."

  "And you're far too polite. Now go."

  Blair moved back toward the door with more than a little reluctance. "Okay," he said hesitantly. "I'm only here for morning classes today, so... I guess I'll see you tonight at the loft."

  "Absolutely," Stoddard assured him. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

  Blair opened the door and stepped through, turning back for a moment before drawing the door closed behind him. Dr. Stoddard was already poring over the thick document again, brow furrowed, lips set in a thin line. As he pulled the door closed with a soft click, Blair doubted that the older man was even aware of his leaving.

  /

  /

  /

  Blair peeked in at the bubbling pan of lasagna then closed the oven door with sense of satisfaction. He'd managed to get away from Rainier before noon and make it home to the loft in time to straighten the place and make dinner. He'd even gone through his research on Jim and pulled out several pages of notes regarding some of his more important discoveries.

  He placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the spotless loft. Perfect.

  Yet everything wasn't perfect... Blair couldn't shake the nagging sense that something was wrong. The feeling had plagued him ever since his meeting with Stoddard earlier in the day.

  Just relax, Sandburg. You're being overly sensitive.

  He sighed, rubbing his forehead as he made his way over to the couch and sank down into the cushions. He just wanted this to work out, wanted so badly for Jim and Dr. Stoddard to hit it off. And they will, he told himself as he pulled the stack of exams from his freshman Anthropology class into his lap and began working through them. The examination was objective, the easiest type to grade, and he hoped to complete the rest of the stack before dinner. Within minutes, however, he found that he had to go back and recheck the last two tests. His mind just wouldn't stay focused; he was much too occupied with what tonight's meeting between Jim and Dr. Stoddard could mean.

  He knew Jim wanted him to take it slowly. And he also knew Jim was right to be cautious. Blair didn't want to jump in with his usual enthusiasm and push his partner into something he wasn't especially comfortable with, yet at the same time he couldn't help but think of the benefits of having Dr. Stoddard in their corner. Blair didn't think he'd fully realized just how isolated he had felt all this time, trying alone to find answers to the problems Jim faced with his enhanced senses, not to mention the entire spiritual aspect of the sentinel legacy.

  But there was something of even greater importance that appealed to him about bringing Dr. Stoddard into the fold--something he would never admit to Jim. For Blair, it was important to know that there would now be someone who could help Jim if anything ever happened to him....

  It was a fear he had harbored ever since meeting Jim and taking on the responsibility of being guide to his sentinel. The fear, usually easily ignored, had intensified ever since his abduction by Dawson Quinn several months earlier. Never in his life had he been more convinced that he was going to die than he had been during those hours in that sealed mine in the North Woods. He'd given up, accepted death as his imminent fate. He remembered feeling his life slipping away, knowing he was powerless to stop it.

  But as much as he had feared dying, his greatest fear--his greatest regret--had been leaving Jim without a guide. So no matter how much Jim might resist the idea of having Dr. Stoddard with them, Blair would make sure the professor knew enough about his research that he could help Jim should the worst ever happen.

  Disgusted with his morbid thoughts, Blair dumped the exams onto the coffee table, leaned back against the couch and rubbed at his tired eyes. You're just full of optimism tonight, aren't you, Sandburg?

  The sound of a key turning in the lock caught his attention and scattered his thoughts. He looked up to see his partner stepping into the loft apartment.

  "Hey, Chief," Jim greeted him, closing the door behind him and depositing his keys in the basket next to the door. "The lasagna smells great."

  "Yeah? Thanks." Blair pushed up from the couch and crossed to the kitchen, his gaze darting to the table, checking it once more to make sure he'd put everything out for dinner.

  "I'm sorry I'm late." Jim shrugged out of his jacket and hung it beside Blair's on the rack by the door. "Traffic was worse than I expected."

  "Don't worry about it. It's only a little past seven, and evidently Dr. Stoddard got stuck in traffic himself."

  "Either that or the poor guy ended up in Idaho trying to follow your directions to the loft," Jim said, shooting Blair a teasing look.

  Blair rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, Jim." He leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his chest, the worry that had been plaguing him all day returning full-force. "He has our phone number. I'm sure he'd call if he got lost." He shifted his attention to his partner. "So," he said, keeping his voice light, "How was everything at the station today?"

  Jim shrugged one shoulder and moved over to the table, where he snagged a roll from the bread basket. "Nothing too exciting, though I think you'll be happy to know we won't be spending any more evenings on that rooftop above the auto body shop."

  "Really?" Blair perked up a bit at the news. "You guys caught the ringleader?"

  "Rafe and Brown did. Last night. I spent most of the day working with them to clean up the details." He took a large bite of the roll, his gaze moving over the salad and bottle of wine that Blair had set out. "So, how long do we have to wait for this guy before we can eat?"

  Blair narrowed his eyes as he watched his partner take another roll. "Jim, you have a one-track mind. And you're not going to be hungry when Dr. Stoddard arrives if you eat all the bread."

  Jim opened his mouth to respond when the phone rang. Snatching it up, he spoke into the receiver: "Ellison." He was silent as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, he's right here." Holding out the phone, Jim said, "It's for you, Chief. Dr. Stoddard's assistant."

  "His assistant?" Instantly, the worry he'd been feeling all afternoon intensified. Taking the phone from Jim, he said, "Karen?"

  "Hi, Blair. Um, was Dr. Stoddard still planning to have dinner with you tonight?"

  "Yes, he was. In fact, we're waiting for him right now. Has something happened?"

  "Yes. I'm afraid I have awful news." She paused briefly. "I just got a call from Cascade General. Dr. Stoddard was just admitted."

  Blair's heart seemed to stop in his chest, then began to beat hard and fast. "What? Why?"

  "I don't know. They wouldn't give me any details over the phone. They would only tell me that he's in critical condition." Karen began to cry softly. "He was fine when he left the university this evening."

  "Okay, Karen, just try to stay calm," Blair soothed. He closed his eyes and tried to think, to decide what he should do. "Are you going to the hospital?" he asked finally.

  "Yes," Karen replied, sniffling softly.

  "All right, I'll meet you there." He glanced at the clock above the sink. "I can be there in fifteen minutes."

  "Okay. I'll see you there."

  "Are you okay to drive?" he asked Karen before she could hang up.

  "Yes, I think so. Thank you, Blair. I'll see you at the hospital."

  Blair hung up and turned to Jim, who was already pulling their coats down from the rack.

  "You heard?" Blair asked.

  Jim simply nodded and moved around his partner to turn the oven off. "I heard." He turned to stand in front of Blair and looked down at him, concern etched in his features. "If you don't mind some moral support, I'd like to drive you over."

  Blair smiled up at his friend, aware that the worry he was feeling didn't allow the expression to reach his eyes. "I'd like that," he answered, then turned toward the door. Feeling Jim's hand warm against the center of his back, Blair allowed himself to be guided out of the loft and toward the truck.

  /

  /

  /

  "Jim? Did you find out anything?""

  Ellison flipped the cell phone shut and pushed it down into his coat pocket. He looked over at his friend where he sat in the passenger's seat of the Ford, then turned his gaze back to the road. "Yeah. Brayden's the investigating officer on the case."