Title: Happy Birthday Baby

#12 in the Father Figure Series
Author Amethyst

Pairing: none

Warning: DD/CP

Summary: Naomi visits, Blair has a birthday, a trip to Mexico, kidnapping, rescues, covert ops Burke and his men return, a little mysticism

This is the standard disclaimer. They don't belong to me. This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by Paramount, UPN, or Pet Fly Productions.

This story contains DD/CP. Be warned. This story contains a scene where a character other than Jim disciplines Blair.

A big thank you for my beta Reva.

Jim Ellison looked up from his corner of the couch, from were he sat watching a silent TV and studied his young roommate. Blair sat across from him on the other couch steadily working on schoolwork. Hunched over the coffee table, scribbling furiously in a notebook and frequently referring to a well-thumbed textbook, the younger man was oblivious to the scrutiny he was under.

Jim watched as the grad student squinted and readjusted his glasses repeatedly, habitually tucking stray curls behind his ears and out of his face. Finally Blair pulled the frames from his face and tossed them gently on the notebook. Rubbing his bleary eyes and pounding temples, he leaned back on the couch and sighed.

"Eyes bothering you, Chief?"

"Yeah, man. I got a monster of a headache to go with it. God, I've got so much work to catch up on, too! These last few weeks have been murder on my GPA."

"I thought you've been doing pretty well, working on your papers and keeping up with your teaching assignments?"

"I have been. Everything I teach is up to date, but the classes I'm taking require so much research and reading, not to mention articles due, that I'm falling behind. It's not like I can just take off and hit the library anytime I want to with the cast still on. You've been great about taking me and helping, big guy, but with all the doctors' appointments and physical therapy, there isn't that much time left over. Add to that stiff hands to type with and the pain medication, that you insist I take, that makes me sleepy, I'm working in the negative functional hours here."

A resigned sigh escaped the weary young man as he eyed the workload before him. With a grunt of despair he thumped his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"You get your cast off in two days, Chief. The therapist said your left hand is back to normal and the right one isn't far behind. The medications are to help relax the muscles in your hands so they can limber up. They're not pain pills. You're doing great with everything. By next week this will all be a memory."

Jim walked over to the kitchen and retrieved two aspirin and a glass of water for his friend. Returning to stand over the small form sprawled on the couch, he nudged Blair's leg with his knee and waited for bloodshot eyes to open and focus on the items in his hands.

Opening his mouth to object to the medication, the young man quickly changed his mind as his roommate's eyebrows rose in unison and an unbending expression settled onto his finely chiseled face. There was no question of whether Blair would take the aspirin.

Blair reluctantly swallowed down the pills and drank the entire glass of water under the sentinel's watchful gaze. His young guide glared up and handed back the glass.

"Happy now?"

"Yes, I am. And if I'm Happy, that must make you Grumpy, right? I usually get Dopey but I was hoping for at least Sleepy, he's easier to get along with."

The younger man rolled his eyes and gave his companion a look of exasperated affection.

"All right, I'm being grumpy! I just want to get this work all done before next week when Naomi gets here. I never have enough time to spend with her and I don't want anything to interfere. It's my birthday, man! She hasn't made it for my actual birthday in years! I am so juiced about this!"

Blair's pale face lit up with anticipation. The young man always delighted in his mother's mostly unannounced and sporadic, brief visits. Unfortunately, it was only the unplanned ones that you could depend on. They never knew if Naomi would really show up until she walked through the door.

Jim gave the young man a small smile and watched as he threw him self back into his assignment with renewed dedication. Jim hoped fervently that the kid wasn't setting himself up for disappointment. Naomi's priorities didn't always include little things like traditional celebrations and her son's sensitive heart.

"Naomi's coming in on the 22nd, right? That gives us three days. What do you want to do on the big day? Dinner, a movie, a play, or an exhibit tour? Give me an idea here, Junior. Does your mom have something planned?"

"I don't know, man. Naomi isn't into set plans, you know that, Jim. Dinner would be nice. Hey, maybe at the Barbary Coast, that new seafood restaurant. Mom loves seafood! Think we could get reservations for the 24th this late?"

Jim smiled indulgently at his now animated guide. Headache clearly forgotten in the excitement of planning his birthday celebration, Blair bounced up and clumped noisily to the phone.

Looking back at the older man with wide pleading eyes, Blair stood by the phone and tilted his head side to side in a questioning gesture like an over excited puppy.

Throwing his head back and snorting at the obvious manipulation tactics, Jim held out his hand and wiggled his fingers in a summoning motion.

"You find the number, Chief, I'll make the call."

The phone materialized in his hand in seconds.

"YES! Thanks, Jim. You, my mom and a terrific seafood dinner. This is going to be the best birthday yet. Do you think maybe we could go to the Playhouse after and see what they've got showing? They do some great little plays there. I'd really like to see what they've got and I know Naomi will like it. You will too, I promise. I'll check on it tomorrow on my way to class. Okay?"

"Whatever you want, Chief. You turn 27 only once."

Blair blinked and rubbed at his left thumb with his right hand, a nervous gesture Jim was sure the young man was not aware of doing. It was the detective's first clue that something was not quite right with his young guide.

"Ah, yeah, 27. You know actual years don't really mean much, it's how a person feels and thinks that reflects their true inner self. 27, 25, 20, who really cares these days? They're just numbers, right? I mean after 21, what difference does it make, man?"

Blair returned to his seat on the couch as Jim called for reservations. The bounce was suddenly subdued and Blair swallowed audibly as Jim hung up the phone.

"Something wrong, Chief? You change your mind?"

Blair licked his lips and kept his eyes on the work before him.

"N-no, Jim. I'm fine. Everything is great! Thanks for suggesting dinner and the play! It will be so cool! I just need to get this work done, man. Maybe I should take it into my room, so I can spread out a little more."

Blair hurriedly started gathering up his books and papers. Slowly limping to his room, arms loaded down with schoolwork Blair turned toward his companion and looked up into suspicious pale blue eyes.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you, Chief?"

Guilt sprang up in the smooth young face and Blair blinked back his anxiety.

"Y-yes, Jim. It's just my headache. I-I think I'll go to bed as soon as I finish this one paper. Night, Jim."

A thoughtful measuring look pinned the young guide in place as Jim cataloged the slightly accelerated heart rate and rapid shallow breaths coming from his charge. Dark blue eyes darted nervously from his face to the doorway of Blair's bedroom and back again. Finally deciding to let his prey go until he had given the incident more thought, Jim relaxed his stare and smiled at the kid.

"Good night, Chief. I'll see you in the morning. Don't stay up too late, OK?"

Finally exhaling the breath he had been unconsciously holding, Blair nodded and slipped into his room, softly closing the door behind him.

Jim sat down on the couch and mentally reviewed the earlier conversation. What had he said just before Blair got quiet?

{"What ever you want, Chief. You turn 27 only once."}

<< What was it about being 27 that had spooked the kid? What significance did turning 27 have? It's not a hallmark, like 30, or a coming of age thing like 21. Why would a person be upset about saying they were turning 27? That little squirt had all the signs and symptoms of a young man caught up in a lie. I guess maybe I need to do some detective work right here on home ground. I'd ask Naomi, but I know where Blair gets his obfuscation skills.

Shaking his head in disbelief, a confused but curious sentinel settled in to finish watching his game on TV.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning Jim entered the bullpen and hung up his coat. He grabbed a cup of coffee from the break room, spent several minutes exchanging quick hellos with a few fellow officers and then settled into his chair at his desk. Activating his computer and accessing the search programs most likely to help him in his quest for information, Jim focused his mind on the task at hand. Having Simon away at a meeting with the Commissioner all morning was a godsend, no one to interrupt his unauthorized computer search.

<< When was the kid born? 1969, right? That's what Blair said. That's what Blair's birth certificate said. You saw it when he had to give a copy of it to personnel along with his application for observer status, right? Let's just check that out to be sure.

Jim ran through the department personnel programs and verified Blair's date of birth. May 24, 1969. Place of birth- Cascade, WA.

<< That's a surprise! I thought with all the travelling Naomi did with the hippie movement, he would have been born in Haight-Asbury or Greenwich Village.
Or Timbuktu, not little old Cascade.

Jim frowned and thought back to his late teen years.

<< There was a small commune just outside of town back then, out at the Waters farm. I can't remember much about it, not like I would ever have had an interest in going there, but I remember people talking about it. Only lasted about 3-4 years though. Not much to keep them entertained around here. I wonder if Naomi stayed there when Blair was born? Wouldn't that be a weird coincidence?
Both sentinel and guide born in the same city. Maybe I can find someone who used to live there still in Cascade. Oh, yeah! An old high school buddy of mine's sister used to be out there! What was his name? Think, Ellison! It really hasn't been that long!

Jim shifted position and stretched his neck muscles. Sipping his cooling coffee, he glanced at the wall clock. Four more hours until his partner was due.

<< Collins! Mark Collins! Football buddy. Lived over on Ash Ave. Sister's name was---Mary! Yes! I haven't repressed ALL of my childhood!

Jim contemplated hitting up DVM for the address, but decided to try the phone book first.

<< Let's keep this simple for now. Don't involve anyone else if you don't need to, super sleuth. Blair will have a royal tantrum, as it is, if he finds you doing this.

Scanning the pages under C, Jim was rewarded with only one Mark Collins listed. Dialing the phone, he quickly glanced around the bullpen and satisfied himself that he was not attracting any unwanted attention.

<< Get a grip, Ellison. This is NOT a covert ops mission. No one cares if you're snooping on your partner. Whoa! Not snooping, gathering intelligence. Something is bothering the little guy and I'm going find out BEFORE it causes havoc with our lives for a change. Naomi being in town soon is enough trauma for one week.

The phone at the other end of the connection suddenly was picked up. A soft female voice answered. After a brief conversation with Mrs. Mark Collins, Jim wrote down a work number and connected with his old high school buddy.

General chitchat was exchanged, and Jim explained the purpose behind the call. He needed to track down someone who was still around who was at the Cascade commune during the few years it had been used.

While Collins' sister still lived in Cascade, she was out of town for a few days. Phone numbers were traded and promises made to get in touch with the detective as soon as his sister returned to town.

<< Jackpot! I might as well check the birth records at the courthouse while I have the time. Verify the information. Public record, right?

Pounding away at the keyboard for several moments, Jim suddenly stopped and frowned at the screen. He repeated his entries and once again stared accusingly at the monitor.

<< That can't be right! NO births under the name Blair Sandburg recorded in the month of May of 1969. O-K! How about anytime in 1969?

Jim waited and a scowl deepened his neutral expression.

<< That can't be right. I've seen his birth certificate. It's real. At least it looked real. I didn't examine it for flaws but it looked genuine. Nothing. How about all of 1970?

Jim's scowl deepened as the program again came up empty. Skipping up to the help key on the program, he carefully read the instructions for instigating a blanket search over a five year span of time and returned to the records.

Entering all the correct data, Jim settled back and watched the monitor screen flash a please wait signal.

A light chime sounded rousing the detective from his thoughts. Jim blinked at the screen and hit the print button. Maybe it would be more believable if it was on paper. Grabbing the sheet, Jim read it three times before placing it on his desk.

Blair J. Sandburg, male, five pounds three ounces, fourteen inches long, mother- Naomi A. Sandburg, father-none listed, place of birth-Contentment Valley Commune, Cascade, WA, date of birth-June 6th, 1973. 01:36am. Unattended delivery recorded three days after birth by State Health Department.

<< JUNE 6, 1973. 1973. The kid really IS a kid. He's going to be 23, not 27!
23! Christ, that means he's 22 right now! 22! He's barely legal! No wonder he looks so young. HE IS YOUNG!

Jim stared at the printout in disbelief.

<< This can't be right! This is probably just a record error! There is no reason for this to be true! There is no reason for him to lie to me about his birthday!

Jim rubbed his head in frustration and glanced at the clock again. Plenty of time to research Rainer's records.

<< Face it Ellison. The rapid heartbeat, the shallow respirations, the kid was lying to you last night. You know he was. Lying or he was scared. Scared to tell me he lied to me or scared because of whatever reason his birth date has been changed?

The determined detective started his intensive search through university records. One hour and 20 minutes later a disturbed and angry detective in full investigative officer mode shut down his computer after saving all his findings.

It was all there. Blair started college in 1986. He was 13 years old even if the university thought he 16. Four years on his bachelors' degree with every break and summer filled with expeditions with the university or trips to a foreign country with Naomi. He was 17 a month after graduation. 21 according to the records. Three more years on his Masters with a year spent in Peru with Stoddard. 25 according to his passport, 21 according to his birth certificate. His real birth certificate. Naomi must have had a fake one made to get his passports. Two years working on his Ph.D.

<< 27 in June not May. No, 23 in June. 23 fucking years old! Damn that kid! Double damn that woman!

Jim wearily wiped a hand over his face and scowled.

<< What is going on here? The first change showed up in 1981 when Blair was eight with his first passport stating he was ten. Why the hell would Naomi doctor his birth records? WHY would she mess with his birth date? What possible reason could that woman have for hiding Blair's real date of birth? Christ, don't even go there, Ellison. You are never going to be the one person in the world who figures out that sage soaked mind! No wonder the kid is so nervous, covering for another of Naomi's little lapses in legality. God, how did he ever get to be such a sweet kid! That's not entirely fair. Naomi is a nice woman, but let's face it. She really didn't have much involvement in his day to day upbringing. He must have a guardian angel somewhere. Thank God something was watching over him until we found each other.

Jim sat back and though of what it must have been like for a thirteen-year-old to be in college. Did Naomi stay around? He doubted it! She never stayed in one placed long. She even had been know to fly in and spend only a couple of hours visiting, expecting Blair to drop everything and run to her for the few precious moments of her time she had decided to dole out to the kid.

And Blair did. He ran straight to her every time. No questions asked beyond a hopeful 'how long can you stay?' It was never long enough for Blair and, after the first visit, slightly too long for Jim.

Then Naomi blithely sailed away on her cloud of peace and enlightenment while Jim got to see and cope with the forlorn child she left behind. The briefer the visit the sadder the dark blue eyes that watched her breeze out the door without a backward glance.

<< 'Detach with love' my ass! I'd give my pension not to have ever heard that phrase!

Startled out of his train of thought by a commotion out in the hall, Jim was surprised to see it was time for his young charge to show up soon. Quickly shoving the printouts into his pocket, Jim checked to make sure every thing was neatly out of sight. He would talk to Blair about it tonight and find out just exactly what was up with the illegal document.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Three days of chaos followed Jim discovery of Blair's illegal birth certificate. Simon had returned from his meeting with the Commissioner with a renewed sense of urgency to increase the number of successful arrests over the next two weeks to qualify his department for an increase in federal funding. Everyone was committed to overtime with an increase in stakeouts and surveillance. No one was safe from Simon's bellowed commands and mandatory assignments.

Returning home in the wee hours of the morning night after night, Jim found little time to have more than superficial conversations with his young roommate. There was never an appropriate moment to seriously discuss the issue of the false birth certificate in private. Blair accompanied the older man on several occasions but spent most of the surveillance time studying or finishing up papers and grading end of the semester test for his students. This was not a conversation Jim wanted to have in the truck on stakeout.

On the second day, Blair's cast was removed and his ankle declared healed. The young man delighted in having his freedom to drive returned and spent many hours running errands and preparing for Naomi's pending visit.

The evening before Naomi's arrival, the suspect Jim had been assigned to showed up and an arrest was made, unfortunately not entirely without incident.

Blair waited in the truck as Jim approached the suspect with two other officers as backup. Thinking the approaching officers were the hired muscle he had been trying to avoid for last six days who were sent to neutralize him as a potential witness to his employer, the man panicked.

The officers' shouts of warning and identification were lost in the chaos created by the fleeing suspect. Throwing the canned goods laden bag of groceries he was carrying into the face of the nearest approaching man with a gun, the man pushed past the momentarily stunned form of James Ellison.

Racing to the first vehicle in sight, the suspect opened the door of the old truck and jumped into the driver's seat, gun drawn. Crowing with delight at seeing the keys in the ignition, he reached for the starter. A startled gasp of shock froze him momentarily in place. Turning his head, he found him sitting next to a longhaired frightened young man.

Blair pressed himself against the passenger door and fumbled for the handle. With the door locked the handle refused to respond to the young man's frantic pulling.

Disregarding the figure in the seat as harmless for the moment, the suspect turned to discover the whereabouts of his would-be attackers. Finding the tall, blue eyed man he had hit with the grocery bag rapidly approaching the truck, he raised his gun and attempted to fire.

A sudden blow to his right arm sent his aim wild and the man found himself pulled from the cab, face down against the side of the truck, in handcuffs and being legally cautioned in all of 15 seconds. Roughly handing the stunned suspect over to the other two officers for transport to the station, Jim hastily turned to check on his guide.

Running his hands quickly over the young man's arms and shoulders, Jim searched frantically for any sign of injury to his partner. Cupping both sides of Blair's face in his hands, Jim stared intently into bright blue eyes.

"You okay, Chief? Did you get hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Blair fairly bounced in place anchored only by the large warm hands on his face.

"No, man! I'm fine! Wow! What a rush! I NEVER expected that!"

"But you're all right?"

"Sure, man! I'm fine. I just hope my laptop survived though! I don't know what throwing it like that might do to the hard drive. Oh, well, it's better than having you shot, big guy!"

Jim moved his hands down to slight shoulders and tightened his grip. Adding a little shake to make sure he had the young man's attention, his expression turned to granite.

"What did you just say?"

Blair blinked rapidly at the sudden change in his companion's demeanor. Realizing his actions might not be viewed as the most intelligent course of action he might have taken the young man began to backpedal.

"I-I said my computer might have gotten damaged when it-it hit the guy's arm.
It r-really doesn't m-matter though, as long as y-you're all right. I mean, what's a bunch of plastic compared to your life, right? J-jim?"

The young guide gulped and tightened his fists in Jim's jacket as he watched anger and frustration warring in the big man's eyes.

Jim drew the now trembling body slightly closer. His voice dropped to just above a whisper.

"You hit the suspect with your laptop? Instead of sitting quietly out of the line of fire or getting out of the truck, you attacked an armed suspect with your laptop computer. Am I right here, Darwin? Did you try and subdue an armed and dangerous suspect with A LAPTOP COMPUTER?"

"Well, it doesn't sound all that good when you say it-----"

A rough shake punctuated the aborted sentence.

"Yes or no, Chief."

Blair stared into the stony face of his best friend and surrogate father and knew his day had taken a decided turn for the worst.

< Man, I'm not going to be able to sit tonight I know it! Damn!

"I just--"

"Yes or no?"

"He was going---"

"Yes or no?"

"You could have been---"

"YES OR NO?"

Blair licked his lips nervously and dropped his eyes to the front of the big man's chest.

"Y-yes."

Turning his impetuous charge back towards the truck, Jim landed a healthy swat to the boy's backside. Blair yelped with surprise and nervously looked around to be sure no one had seen the impromptu spank.

"No one is here, Chief. I checked the area. You just concentrate on explaining your actions to me when we get home. Unless I missed something, you've got a lot to answer for here."

Needing time to think of a way to save his backside, Blair meekly climbed into the truck and secured his seatbelt. Slumping quietly in the corner, he attempted to make himself a part of the upholstery for the trip home.

Jim climbed into the driver's seat and reached down to the floor to retrieve the fallen laptop. Brushing off the outer case, he handed it to his silent companion and watched as the young man wordlessly inserted it into his backpack.

Worried eyes darted from his stern face to the pack and back again. A soft tentative voice stumbled over the next few words.

"T-thanks, Jim. I-I just wanted to protect you. I c-couldn't sit there and let him s-shoot you."

Heaving a heartfelt sigh, the older man dropped his chin to his chest and silently counted to ten. Raising his head and pinning his small companion with a steady gaze filled with love, concern and more than a little anger, Jim reached over and rested a hand on his guide's shoulder.

"I know that, Chief. I know you wanted to help. I know you were worried about me. But this is what I am trained to do. This is my job. I saw the gun. I was in position to take him out. I had two other officers with me as backup. All you needed to do was stay down out of the line of fire. Sit still and stay down. THAT'S your job when we're out here together and my senses are under control.
I need to know you'll protect yourself and be sensible out here. You trust me to do my job. I need to be able to trust you to do yours, Chief."

Tears filled the younger man's eyes as the implications of his earlier actions hit home. Trust was always an issue with his sentinel. Blair trusted and relied on the older man more than any one else in his entire lifetime. He knew Jim needed to be able to do the same with him and every time he did something impetuous and risky he endangered the sentinel's trust in him.

"I know Jim. I-I'm so sorry!"

Jim gave the figure beside him a hard look and started the truck.

"I guarantee you'll be sorry when we get home. We'll discuss this at the loft after we fill out the paperwork on that jerk. I don't think there will be much conversation, Chief. Endangering your life is not acceptable no matter what the reason."

Nodding slightly, Blair hugged his pack to his chest. Watching traffic speed by he wondered how many more times Jim would be willing to put up with his mistakes until he finally gave up on him. He was sure that if that day came it would be the day the world came to an end. At least for him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Both men entered the loft later that evening in a contemplative mood. Blair went to his room to deposit his backpack and shoes as Jim unpacked their takeout dinner.

Quietly joining the older man, Blair set out dishes and flatware then nervously sat at the table. Jim joined him and they both ate a decent meal despite the strained emotional undercurrent.

After quick clean up, Jim joined Blair in the living room. Curling into a corner of the couch, the younger man looked up expectantly at his roommate. Noting his Blessed Protector's rigid stance and serious expression, the young man mentally prepared himself for the coming lecture.

Jim took a seat on the coffee table in front of his anxious young charge.

"I think you need to go get the list. Your memory needs to be jogged."

Grimacing slightly, Blair jumped up from the couch and retrieved the dreaded LIST from the front of the refrigerator. Returning quickly to his seat, Blair nervously smoothed the paper out on his thigh and waited for the inevitable.

"You've had plenty of time to think about it. Tell me what you did wrong, Chief."

< I've broken your trust in me. For the thousandth time. How can you stand having me around all the time? How can you care for me when all I do is fuck up?

Licking his dry lips and nervously ducking his head, Blair motioned towards the list.

"I broke rule number four. YOU think I needlessly endangered my life."

< When will you think I'm too much trouble? Are you going to give up on me and make me go?

The terror of seeing the suspect line up a shot at the approaching detective suddenly resurfaced in the young man's mind.

< What if one day some jerk really does shoot you? What if you're gone? What will happen to me? What in God's name will I do without you?

Suddenly one nervous and subdued guide flashed to life and became one indignant and belligerent young man.

"This is so unfair! I help subdue a wanted criminal and I'm the one who gets punished! This is so not right! I am NOT going to take this. I helped for crying out loud! Maybe I shouldn't have hit an armed suspect with just my laptop, but it worked! I'm NOT going to just sit here and get my butt roasted for helping!"

Blair jumped to his feet and pushed past the still seated sentinel. He stalked furiously towards his room, hands flying spastically with each word.

"Just let me get my shoes and coat and I'm like so out of here, man! I'll drop you a postcard or something."

Rapidly dodging the loveseat, Jim snagged the wrist of his fleeing charge. Hauling the slight form to a sudden stop just out side his bedroom doors, Jim slipped an arm around the narrow waist.

"Whoa there, Chief! You're not going anywhere my little guppy. We're going to talk about this and figure out what's eating you. You DID needlessly endanger your life and you're NOT going to get away with it by throwing some wild tantrum.
You're too important to me to let you act like a crazy man. You know the consequences of this kind of behavior, Junior. Stop fighting it!"

Blair squirmed wildly in the firm grasp of the older man. Pent up fear from the earlier incident combined with the sudden realization of how devastated his life would be if the older man were to suddenly disappear from it, fueled his emotional panic.

Dragging the frantic young man into his room, Jim quickly sat down on the bed, pulling the struggling form down on to his lap. Not bothering to worry about jeans or boxers, he immediately set to the task of warming his nearly hysterical young charge's backside.

By the 15th swat, yelps of surprise had turned to grunts of pain. The frantic squirming became a tight hug around Jim's leg and the long string of oaths turned gradually to pleas. By the thirtieth swat, tears streamed freely and breath came in shuddered gasps.

"I want to GO! I wanta go! Wanta go! Let me GO! .... Let'm go! Don't .... let m-me g-go!..... Don't...make me go!"

The blows stopped as Jim turned the contrite and sobbing young man over and pulled him to his chest, cradling the smaller form in his lap.

"Sssh, Chief. Ssh! It's all over. It's all right! Everything is going to be all right! Just breath for me, kiddo. Nice deep breathes. That's the way. Nice and easy. Ssssh!"

A large hand carded through the disheveled curls and gently rubbed the head beneath them. Tucking the silky hair under his chin Jim pulled the quivering body closer to his own and slowly rocked back and forth trying to calm his young guide.

"I'm here. I'd never make you leave. You're my family, my heart and soul. I never want to be without you. You're like my son, Chief. You know that. Listen to your heart, Blair. Just listen."

Small hands clutched desperately at the big man's shirt and arms. Gasping sobs settled momentarily into shuddering sniffles then returned full force to near-hysterical sobbing.

Enfolding the young man even tighter in his arms, Jim rubbed small circles across the heaving shoulders and back of his guide. The calming motion and warmth from the large hands had always reassured the young man in the past. This evening was no different. Slowly the shudders faded and an exhausted, boneless form slumped in the big man's lap.

Gently turning and raising the tearstained and swollen face from its safe haven against his neck and shoulder, Jim slowly wiped stray tears away with his thumb.
He softened his voice and whispered into a curl-covered ear near his face.

"Tell me what's wrong, Chief. Talk to me, please. Help me understand here. I'm in the dark this time, kiddo. I know you know you were wrong, so this isn't about trying to get out of a spanking. Help me, please. There are some things even a sentinel has trouble seeing."

Desperately trying to regain his ability to speak without gasping and stuttering, Blair looked his Blessed Protector in the eye and managed a deep breath.

"I don't want you to die! What will I do if you die? What if one day you don't make it out all right? What will I do without you? Please don't leave me behind!"

Cradling Blair's face between both hands, Jim stared into the frightened pleading face of his all but biological son.

"That's not going to happen, Blair. I survived too much in this life to be taken out by some punk off the street. I'm good at what I do, and with you by my side I'm even better. I won't leave you, Junior."

"I don't think I could live if you did!"

Giving the head between his hands a little shake, Jim took on a firm and determined expression.

"Yes, you would! I don't want to hear talk like that. I'm not going anywhere, so it's a moot argument anyway. I won't leave you, ever. You're stuck with me, I promise. And I always keep my promises, right?"

Blair searched the steady blue eyes staring down at him and found all the love and reassurance he was looking for staring right back at him. Heaving another deep sigh, he nodded hesitantly and managed a small smile of acceptance.

"Yeah, you always keep your promises. I know that one for sure. I don't always like it but I know it."

A breath-stealing hug clutched him closely to his protector's chest and a large hand roughly messed his already wild curls.

"You can't worry about the unknown, Chief. We just take life day to day and hope for the best. We're partners, best friends and family. I love you and I won't let anyone split us up, and that includes the street slime of Cascade. Count on it."

The young man returned the crushing pressure of the hug and mumbled into the rock hard shoulder before him.

"Love you too, Jim, more than anything. You and my mom, you're everything to me."

Jim pulled back and settled the small form on the bed. Sitting beside his roommate, Jim looked at his momentarily repentant young charge and decided to plunge ahead with his concerns of the last few days.

"Speaking of Naomi, Chief, she'll be here tomorrow, right?"

A small questioning nod answered him. Deciding not to beat around the bush, the detective jumped straight into the heart of the matter.

"You want to tell me why Naomi got you an illegal birth certificate or do I have to ask her?"

Gasping in surprise and trepidation, Blair licked his suddenly dry lips and rubbed anxiously at his left thumb. Jim absently thought that the kid should have calluses on that thumb by now, he rubs it so frequently. Shifting his weight off his sore and burning backside, Blair pushed himself up further in the bed.

Guilt and embarrassment colored his cheeks a deep pink and words flowed freely and fast out of his mouth.

"Jim, it's nothing illegal, man, I promise! I was ready to start college early and they wouldn't let me because I was too young! It was only a year, man! Just one year! Naomi knew a guy who made fake I.D.s for draft dodgers way back when. I guess he owed her a favor or something so he made one up for me to get into Rainer. It's just one year, man! I swear!"

Jim listened to his young guide's tone of voice and sincere speech pattern. Monitoring the only slightly elevated heart rate and breathing rhythm, he was convinced the young man knew nothing about his real date of birth.

"I did some checking after you reacted so suspiciously the other night when we were discussing your birthday plans, and I found out some interesting items, Chief. Things I think you need to know."

"You checked me out?"

Anger flared briefly in the young man's eyes then burned out rapidly at the look of concern and caring coming from the big man beside him. He knew Jim would be there for him no matter what and that Jim was only taking care of him.

"I was curious as to why you were nervous about turning 27."

A small voiced answered quietly.

"Because I'll really be turning 26. I didn't want to lie to you but I couldn't think of a way to bring it up."

Gently touching the smooth young face before him, Jim softly corrected him.

"No Blair, you'll be turning 23. Over a period of time, Naomi changed your birth date by four years. The date is wrong too. You were born on June 6th, 1973. I have a copy of the records in my pocket."

Stunned silence greeted the soft declaration of facts. Several times Blair opened his mouth to speak and several times he closed it, unable to find the appropriate words to voice his confused and jumbled thoughts. After the third attempt he found his voice.

"But that can't be right, Jim. Four years! How could I have gone all this time and not known it? It doesn't make sense! Sure, I've always been smaller than almost everybody else, but that's genetics, I-I think. M-my dad must have been small. I've had trouble fitting in with people my own age but that's because we moved around so much! Sure, it took awhile getting comfortable around women but I was just a late bloomer, man! So-so sometimes I feel a little immature but that's because I spend all my time hanging out with the most serious grown-ups of all time, cops! You and Simon and even Joel, make me feel like a kid. Even Rafe isn't that much older than I am and he makes me feel like.... like ...his little...little ...."

Large shocked eyes stared up at the older man. Bewilderment and a strange sadness settled on the puffy streaked face.

"Can I see the paperwork?"

Jim pulled the printouts from his back pocket and smoothed them out before handing them to his distraught guide. Slowly Blair reached for the papers and determinedly began reading the damning information.

After re-reading it for the third time, he crumpled the sheet and launched himself into his protector's waiting arms. Hanging on as if for dear life, Blair silently clung to the older man. Lost in a whirlwind of confusion, Blair held on to the only security and constant source of unconditional and unwavering love in his short and chaotic life. Naomi couldn't even come close to qualifying for the position, especially right now.

"Why? Why would she do this? I can't even think of a good reason. Why would she lie about it? Why would she lie to me? Four fucking years!"

Blair suddenly pushed away from the comforting arms and stared in horror at the detective.

"You probably don't even want me to ride along with you now! You think I'm too young to be out with a cop as his partner! You won't trust me any more after this!"

Pulling the struggling young man to him Jim rubbed his back and ran a hand repeatedly over the soft head of hair. Jim tightened his hold almost to the point of pain as if by sheer force of will he could instill in the traumatized young man a sense of the depth of love Jim had for him. He would never forgive Naomi for shaking the fragile foundation of trust and security in her son's world.

"Hey, slow down, Chief! Nobody said anything about changing the way things are! I've known about this for days. It hasn't changed a thing about how we are together, at the station and at home, has it?"

"N-no! I guess not."

"Nothing can change the way I feel about you. So what if you're a few years younger than we thought. It does explain a few things with your behavior at times though. We'll have to get a genuine copy of your certificate and give it to personnel down at the station to be sure no one accuses you of falsifying records, but that's no big deal. And change your driver's license."

Reluctantly leaving the warm cocoon of comfort, Blair sat back and nervously bit his lower lip.

"Will I get in to trouble about it?"

"We'll just explain it to Simon and let him deal with it. That's why he gets paid the big bucks, so I can dump things like this on him. It'll be all right."

"I just don't understand any of this. Why would Naomi do this?"

"I guess we'll just have to ask her when she gets here, Chief. It should be interesting. Another unscheduled trip into the Sandburg zone. This time with Naomi driving. There's no point in guessing. Let's table this discussion until we can talk to the source, okay?"

Shaking his head in confusion, Blair hissed as the burning in his butt took center stage again. Standing up, Jim helped Blair off the bed.

"You'd better get ready for bed, Chief. It's an early night for you. I think you've had more than your fair share of emotional upheaval today. You need some rest before we talk with Naomi tomorrow. I know I do."

"Yeah, I think you're right, big guy. I'm going to take a shower and change. I'm beat! No pun intended."

The ringing of the phone interrupted the rest of their conversation. Jim went to answer it as Blair gathered up his sleeping clothes. Several minutes later he gingerly headed off towards the bathroom, mindful of his sore butt, as Jim hung up the phone.

"Hey, Chief. That was a call I put out about something a couple of days ago. The woman is back in town and wants to talk with me tonight before she leaves again in the morning on business. I'll only be gone about two hours. You okay with everything?"

Blair smiled shyly at his big roommate and protector.

"Yeah, Jim. I'm fine. At least as fine as I can be until I talk with Naomi."

"Until WE talk with her, Chief. We do this together."

"OK, Jim, WE. T-thanks for being here, big guy. I- I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, kiddo, anytime. Get some sleep."

"I will. Right after my shower. I'm exhausted."

"I'll check on you when I get home. Lock the door, Chief."

"Yeeees, Jim. Night!"

Trudging over to the door, Blair ducked a well-timed thump to the back of his head and locked the door behind his blessed protector. Heaving a huge sigh, the young man slowly entered the bathroom and prepared for bed.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Quietly, Naomi Sandburg jiggled and twisted the ill-fitting key, before the loft door finally unlocked. She cautiously turned the door handle and entered the home of her son and his detective roommate.

Arriving a day early, she decided to drop by the loft unannounced and surprise the two men. Seeing Jim's truck missing from the parking space and Blair's current vehicle outside the building, she decided to sneak into the place and be comfortably settled in when the men arrived home. She mistakenly assumed the two men were out together as usual.

Upon entering the apartment she immediately realized her mistake when she heard the shower running. Knowing it must be her son she dropped her bags and coat by the loveseat and tiptoed to the bathroom door.

Finding it slightly ajar, Naomi couldn't resist slipping her head into the room. After all it was her baby boy, he didn't have anything she hadn't seen before. Beside, she had always taught Blair that the human body was nothing to be ashamed of. Modesty was over rated. Not that Blair agreed with her but she had hope. Sneaking up on the birthday boy would be just the thing to remind him of his free and easy upbringing. The soft droning from the exhaust fan masked the small sounds of Naomi's arrival.

Naomi was not prepared for the sight that greeted her. Blair stood naked with his back to her bending over slightly to hang the bath mat up over the side of the tub, revealing a glowing red bottom, still hot and highly colored from his recent spanking. Finger marks were clearly evident on the side of his right buttock cheek.

As he straightened up Blair hissed and tentatively rubbed his right cheek, quickly releasing it as the burn intensified with the gentle contact and mumbled to himself.

"Oh, man, Jim. This really hurts! I won't be making that mistake again any time soon. I wonder if my laptop still works."

Overwhelmed by the implications running through her mind, Naomi hurriedly pulled back from the opening and cautiously backed down the hall to the kitchen.
Quietly putting a kettle on to boil for tea, she sat down on the couch and waited for her son to exit the bathroom.

Thoughts and questions spun uncontrolled through her mind. Jim! Jim did this to her son? Why would Jim do this? What 'mistake' had Blair made that deserved that kind of punishment? Punishment she could never condone for her child? Spanked at 26--27--20, or whatever he was now? Her Blair would never stand for it! But obviously he had.

Not knowing how to open the subject with Blair without revealing how she knew about it, Naomi vowed to talk with Jim the moment he arrived and Blair was elsewhere or asleep.

Grabbing the kettle as it started to whistle, she poured two cups of tea just as Blair exited the bathroom. The soft sounds of cup sliding over saucer echoed in the silent loft.

"Back so soon, Jim? I thought you were going to be gone a couple of hours."

Blair's face lit up with genuine delight and surprise at the sight of his all-too absent mother leaning up against the kitchen counter. Rushing quickly to embrace her, Blair shyly kissed her cheek and suffered the tight bear hug of welcome from her. It seemed a little too tight this time.

"Mom, you're early! We weren't expecting you until tomorrow! Is everything okay?"

"Hi, sweetie! I missed you so much! Everything is fine with me! How are you, really?"

Holding both sides of the curly head, Naomi searched the young face before her for signs of distress or fear. Looking sweetly back at his mother, Blair smiled and blinked wide, honest eyes up at her.

"I'm good, Naomi. Things are going great! School is coming along without any major glitches and I really like working with Jim. I'm learning so much for my dissertation. It's going to be great."

"That's wonderful, Blair. How are you and Jim getting along? Any problems crop up? You don't have much in common. It must be hard living together. You've been living here for months now."

Gently removing the hands from his face, Blair squeezed her fingers lightly before dropping them. Her worries that his life with the older detective was unsafe and ill advised were never put to rest no matter how many times he told her he was happy and where he wanted to be.

"I'm good, Naomi. Really, really good. Please believe me. This is where I want to be. I'm doing what I want to do. I like my life. And I'm happy to see you."

"You can tell me anything, sweetie. Anything that has come up recently, anything new or disturbing. Anything at all."

Surprised by his mother's persistence, Blair thought over the events of the last few hours.

< My birthday! She must want to talk about my real birthday! That's why she's in town on my birthday for the first time in years. She was going to tell me! I knew I could trust her! She just had to wait and tell me in her own good time. She probably wanted the stars to be aligned just right and her aura in sync with the harmonics of the day or something. But Jim said we'd do this together. I'm NOT getting into this with her without him here. It will just have to wait. Time doesn't mean anything to Naomi anyway right? What's four years here or there? Another hour won't make any difference.

Pleased and hugely relieved he could once again trust the woman who gave him life Blair's dazzling smile calmed Naomi's urgent concerns.

"I hear that Naomi. I'm fine. Let's have some tea and you can tell me all about that retreat up in Canada. It sounded great."

Grabbing their cups and walking arm in arm the two sat down on the couch to catch up on recent history. It did not escape Naomi's notice that Blair had a little difficulty finding a comfortable position to stay seated in.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim wove his way through the late night traffic on his way back to the loft. The meeting with Mark Collins' sister Mary, now Mary Winters, travelling computer consultant, had been interesting and informative.

Mary Winters was a energetic 45 year old divorced woman with light brown hair, dark brown eyes and an infectious smile. She had appeared delighted to meet an old friend of her brother's and was open and willing to help in any way she could. It made a nice change from the closed-mouthed suspects Jim usually spent his time questioning.

They had met at a nearby coffee shop and the conversation had flowed easily from the first handshake.

"Thank you for meeting me so late in the evening, Ms. Winters. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem, detective, and it's Mary. I remember you from your high school days. And I see your name in the paper all the time. It's a pleasure to meet you. Anything I can do to help the police is time well spent."

Sitting down at a quiet booth, both placed orders for coffee from the young waitress.

"I'm sorry if I misled you, Mary. This is a personal concern, not a police matter. A friend of mine was born out at the Contentment Valley Commune in 1973 and I'm looking for someone who might remember the birth to verify the date."

"Why do you need to do that, Detective Ellison? I seem to remember the Health Department coming out shortly after his birth to issue a birth certificate."

"So you do remember it? Great! And it's Jim, please."

Mary nodded and sipped her coffee, expecting the detective to answer her earlier questions before continuing.

"It seems two different birth certificates were issued and it's causing him a bit of trouble. I'm trying to help him out. He's actually my partner with the PD. An observer."

"Oh, I remember him being born! His mother was a beautiful redhead. Actually there were two beautiful redheads there then. One was tall with beautiful blue eyes and natural magnet for men. All men. Everyone loved her! She was such a free spirit! She was only there a short while but she left a lasting impression."

"She still does, believe me, Mary."

"She left shortly after the baby was born. She and the another girl of about the same age were there together. They didn't arrive together if I remember correctly, but after they met, they spent all their time together."

"How long were they there for?"

"Together? Oh, five or six weeks, I'd say. They went everywhere together. I remember some of us got a kick out of it because they were so much alike and yet so very different too. Like Mutt and Jeff."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, one was tall and outgoing and talkative. The other was small, very petite, quiet and sweet, actually very shy. But they were both beautiful with long red hair, blue eyes and dazzling smiles. They would float around the commune together in similar moo-moo type dresses everyone wore back then and captivate everyone they came in contact with. Even their names were similar. Both started with an N I think. Nora and Noni, maybe?"

"Naomi."

"Yes, that's it, Nora and Naomi. They stayed together even during the birth. I remember so well because it was the only baby born while I was there and it was so exciting to see a new life come into the world. He was such a tiny baby. Nora left a few days after he was born and Naomi left about a week later. You know I remember thinking it was odd, them leaving like that but I can't remember exactly why. Maybe because they did so much together I expected them to leave together. I don't really remember now."

"Can you verify the year and date of his birth? It's very important that we get this straightened out. It's causing him a lot of unnecessary grief."

Jim graced her with one of his rare and dazzling smiles of his own. Mary blushed slightly at the unbidden thoughts that gorgeous smile made rush to her head, among other body parts, and lightly fanned her red face with her napkin. She smiled back at the handsome man.

"Hot flash. Happens more and more these days. Yes, well, I'm certain the year was 1973 because it was the last year the commune was in use. By fall almost everyone had moved on. I rejoined the human race and started college that fall, so I remember it well. June 6th is the exact date. I remember being so excited about it."

"Why is that? Did something happened besides Blair's birth?"

"No. It's just that it's my birthday too! Made it easy to remember. But I'm not going to tell you which one it is."

Jim laughed at the silly expression on the engaging woman's face and reached out to squeeze her hand lying on the table. Her red flush brightened.

"Well, since it's not too far away, Happy Birthday! Thank you for taking the time to meet and speak with me. I appreciate it. You've been a lot of help. Can you remember anything more about this Nora that was with Naomi? A last name or where she was from?"

"No, not really. Naomi was the real attention getter of the two. But if I do remember anything I'll be sure to call you if you'd like Jim."

"Please. I'd appreciate it. Here's my work number and my cell phone number. Call any time if you remember something. Even little things help piece a puzzle together."

Pulling into his usual parking space, Jim tuned his hearing to the loft in an effort to find his sleeping guide's heartbeat. Instead he was greeted with the sound of Naomi's incessant voice.

She was explaining to Blair the travel plans she had made for his birthday. Travel plans to Mexico to an old friend's estate for two weeks. Leaving tomorrow.

Jim jumped from the cab of his truck and took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. He pushed the apartment door open with his shoulder when he realized that not only was it unlocked but it wasn't even completely shut. Jim opened his mouth to admonish the room's occupants but stopped himself short at the sight that greeted him. Neither Naomi nor Blair realized Jim stood in the doorway.

He took in the sight of his excited young guide sitting close to the tall redhead, hanging on her every word and was immediately struck by the unfairness of the situation.

She was persuading Blair to go to Mexico with her for two weeks, maybe more. She wanted him to leave tomorrow. She wanted him to cancel all their plans for his birthday celebration and spend it with strangers. Out of the country. Out of Jim's reach and influence. She was making it quite clear the invitation didn't extend to Jim. She wanted to take Blair away from him and for more than two weeks.

He was dealing with his beloved young charge day in and day out, being the rock of stability, disciplinarian, father, best friend, confidante, caretaker, nursemaid, comforter and protector, taking the good and the bad, caring for and loving this brilliant, talented frustrating naïve and wayward young man. But all Naomi had to do was breeze into town and in five minutes everything in their lives was turned upside down and inside out.

"But sweetie, you'll have a great time, I promise! How often do you get the chance to be with me for your birthday! This trip is a sign you need to take a break. Give Jim some breathing room. I'm sure it's been hard on him, living with someone after being alone for so long. Trust me, he'll appreciate your thoughtfulness."

A quiet but firm rebuttal from behind them answered her.

"No, he won't."

Jim quietly entered the room, pointedly closing the door more firmly than necessary and slapping the lock into place.

Blair jumped up from the couch and raced to big man's side. Sensing a need to calm his protector, Blair rested a small hand on a well-muscled forearm and rubbed his thumb absently against the sentinel's arm.

"Hey, big guy! Look who showed up early! Naomi was here when I got out of the shower. We've been catching up on what's happening. She has some suggestions for my birthday."

Blair nervously licked his lips, aware Jim had heard every word Naomi had said. Feeling the escalating tension, his wide blue eyes darted pleadingly between the two most important people in his world. Blair whispered an apology.

"Sorry the door wasn't locked, man. I forgot to check it after I found Naomi here."

Naomi rose gracefully off the couch and walked over to the stone-faced detective.

"Hello, Jim."

Eyes narrowing slightly with the effort to keep his growing anger under control, Jim returned the flat greeting.

"Naomi."

Just as Blair thought he would jump out of his skin with the oppressive silence that had settled over the loft, Jim turned to him and smoothed a stray lock of hair off of his forehead.

"Hey, Chief. You've had a long hard day. What do you say you call it a night and we'll all talk about Naomi's change of plans in the morning when we're rested, okay? I'm beat, and I'm sure Naomi must be tired too. You can sleep upstairs with me tonight and she can use your room. I think you're about an hour past due anyway."

Thinking a quick retreat might dispel the tension, Blair readily agreed. If he went to bed maybe they all would. Besides he really didn't want to push the issue of him not going to bed as he had been told. Company or not, rules were rules. Naomi's presence was no exception.

Even if she didn't understand or approve of their father/son relationship, he wasn't going to let her interfere with it. He also wasn't going to reveal all the aspects of it. Naomi would never understand or accept the discipline part of their relationship. She would never admit that the son she had raised to be a rootless free spirit craved a home, stability, security, discipline and protection, craved the father she had denied him all these years. No, Naomi would never see that.

" 'Kay, Jim. I am really tired. I'll see you upstairs, 'night. 'Night Mom. I'm glad you made it. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

Blair hugged Naomi and kissed her cheek on the way to the staircase. Looking pleadingly back over his shoulder at the older man, Blair locked gazes with Jim for a moment before hurrying to bed.

Jim acknowledged the look with a softening of his stone-like expression. He would NOT clash with Naomi tonight. He was just too tired and it would upset Blair. He would wait until morning to discuss things, when everyone was rested and had a clear head.

Jim hung up his coat and proceeded to lock up the loft for the night, momentarily avoiding his visitor in an effort to control his nearly overwhelming urge to sit Naomi down and interrogate her until he had all the facts about the mysterious birth date changes and the impromptu travel plans.

Finally trusting himself enough to talk civilly to her, Jim turned to face the woman, knowing she was directly behind him, practically in his face.

Naomi crossed her arms over her chest and turned a blazing glare on her host. Keeping her voice low, she verbally launched an assault on the weary detective.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Detective Ellison! Don't think that for a moment I'm going to let this wait until morning! I didn't agree to wait. You decided and my son agreed to please you. Like everything else out of character that Blair has been doing. Everything to please Jim! Or it anything to please Jim so you won't beat on him?"

Taken back by the venom in her voice, Jim let the total disbelief at what she was saying show on his face and in his reaction.

"What the HELL are you talking about? Beat on Blair? Are you finally totally out of your mind, Naomi?"

"Don't deny it! I snuck into the bathroom when I got here to surprise Blair. Tease him about his 'birthday suit'. I saw the marks and fingerprints you left on him! He said you did it to him for making a mistake."

"Blair told you that?" Disbelief evident in his tone and on his face.

"No. He doesn't even know I saw him. I heard him talking to himself! You hit him!"

By now both parties were hissing at each other in an wasted attempt to kept the young man upstairs from overhearing the tirade. Jim threw a worried glance toward the top of the stairs as he heard his young charge's heart rate begin to race. Blair was wake and listening.

"We're not going to have this discussion tonight, Naomi. I promised Blair."

"I'm not letting you walk away from me!"

"Fine. Why didn't you ask Blair about it?"

"Because! I wanted him to come to me!"

"I don't think so Naomi. How about because you know it was none of your business? How about because it would show how judgmental and prejudiced old free and easy Naomi Sandburg really is? Not to mention, uninformed and totally clueless, as usual, whenever Blair's wants and needs are concerned."

"I will never believe my son WANTS to be beaten! You're a monster! It is so lucky that I came to visit him for his birthday! I'm taking him away from this abuse!"

"What birthday would that be exactly, Naomi? The one you used when you illegally obtained his first passport on forged documents or the one you used to get rid of him and get him registered at the university years before he should have had all that responsibility. Or maybe, just maybe it's the one they issued on June 6, 1973 when he was actually born. Which birthday are you here to celebrate with him Naomi? Or don't you even remember which lie you're here to toast?"

Stunned dismay fell over Naomi's face as she searched for words to fire back at the infuriated sentinel.

Both sets of blazing blue eyes flew to the staircase as a muttered oath caught their attention. Blair stood halfway down the steps nervously rubbing his left thumb and blinking back tears that threatened to fall any moment.

Pulling back from their unconsciously combative stances, Jim and Naomi both stepped back a pace and turned to the one common denominator in both their lives.

Moving rapidly towards her son, Naomi pulled up short when Blair raised both of his hands to warn her off.

"I don't want you two to fight! I heard everything you both said! Naomi, you're my mom and I love you but you had no right to come into the bathroom like that, joke or no joke. I'm a grown man! Not as old as I thought I was, but---"

"Sweetie, let me explain!"

Blair deliberately remained on the stairs, distancing himself from both the other occupants of the room.

"Let me finish, please. Jim found out about the birth certificate. Or should I say certificates. I thought it was only one year that you changed. I could live with it, what's one year? It got me into college early and that was what I wanted, but four years Naomi? And why didn't you tell me about it before this? Why? Couldn't you wait to get rid of me?"

Staring pleadingly up at the only person she had ever loved continuously in her whole life, Naomi mentally scrambled for a convincing story to cover her actions.
She hadn't expected this. It was too soon.

"Blair, sweetheart please listen to me. I did it for your own good. I swear! You were such a bright child! Way above other children your own age! By the time you were four you could read and write! You were bored with toddler and preschool activities. So in the next town we moved to, I told them you were six and enrolled you in first grade. You were brilliant! Even then you were above the rest of the kids. You were excited and enthusiastic! It gave you something to do all day while I was campaigning or protesting or just out with friends. You loved it! Then later, when you were going into the sixth grade, we had just come back from Chile and the school in the town we were in wanted to test you for placement because we were gone for 9 months. You tested so high that they skipped you two whole grades! I dropped another year for your enrollment in the next town so they wouldn't hold you back sweetie! It was always for you!"

Blair stared off in the distance eyes focused on the wall behind Naomi, memories playing back over in his mind. Not all of them were pleasant.

"I remember the thrill of learning and finally being allowed to do the things I wanted to do without people complaining I was too young. It was great. Being able to stay up late and study, take classes in anything I wanted, visit the library for hours on end. I loved to drop myself into an adventure book and lose myself in it. Learning about new cultures and people. I loved it."

Naomi couldn't help throwing Jim a winning smile at the pleasure evident in her son's voice. Her smile was met with a neutral expression and stony silence.

"I remember being the smallest one in class. I was always the smallest. Always the one other kids picked on and pushed around, always different. Always new. Always 'Baby Blair'."

Jim quietly stepped forward a pace.

"Did you ever stop to think Naomi, that even though he was intellectually ready to learn, he wasn't emotionally ready to deal with the stress of having to perform at a much more mature level than he was capable of?"

Focusing back on Naomi and watching the smile slide slowly off her face, Blair gently continued.

"There were plenty of nights I spent crying into my pillow because no one liked me or wanted to play with me, but you never noticed. I would throw myself even deeper into my studies and work harder to make you proud of me, to notice me. But that only made you work harder at pushing me to go to school, go to college. I finally got the message that you'd be happier if I were at a college or a university full-time. Somewhere were I could take care of myself. Where you could write and visit when it suited you. Where I wouldn't weigh you down."

"Blair, sweetheart, it was never like that. I've always loved you."

Blair's face softened and he smiled sadly at her.

"I know. But you haven't always wanted me around. I know that too. Otherwise I wouldn't have a list of 'aunts' I've stayed with and 'uncles' we've lived with that resembles the population census for the state of Rhode Island."

Shocked and a little embarrassed at the tone of Blair's voice, Naomi flashed a look at the older man. Jim continued to look at the younger man, compassion and pain for what his young charge was going through evident in his eyes.

"Blair, I just wanted you to experience all the good things life has to offer. Travel and meeting new people and new ways. A rich full life, free and open."

"But not so open that you can accept that fact that I want to live here with Jim. I like having a stable home to come back to every day. I like knowing Jim is here for me. To help me and care for me. Jim is like my father Naomi. I know you said I didn't need one but you were wrong. I needed one and I wanted one. Then and now. And yes, some times Jim punishes me. But only when I deserve it."

"Blair, no one ever deserves to be beaten!"

"Jim doesn't beat me!"

"Sweetie I saw---"

"NO! Not tonight! I'm too tired to argue or discuss it! You showed no respect for my privacy coming into the bathroom. And you, Jim, you agreed to wait until morning to talk! I'm too t-tired for this, man! It's been a s-shitty day! I-I want to go to bed without worrying about you two t-tearing each other's throat out, okay? P-please?"

Jim took in the trembling voice, rapid heartbeat and tear-filled eyes and quickly moved from aggressive Blessed Protector mode to comforting father.

"You're right, Chief. I'm sorry. I won't say another word. Go back to bed. I'll be right up. I promise."

Nodding his weary acceptance, Blair flicked a warning glanced at both of them and trudged back up the stairs. Blair turned at the top landing and looked down at the two people he loved most in the world.

"I'll go to Mexico with you tomorrow, Naomi, for two weeks. But Jim has to promise to come down and spend the last week with us or I won't go. I don't want to spend my birthday away from either of you. We can talk about the rest of it in the morning. I-I love you b-both."

"I promise, Chief. Whatever you want. I'll be there."

Nodding, Blair disappeared from sight.

Turning back to an opened-mouthed Naomi, Jim hardened his expression into a neutral mask.

"Feel free to make yourself at home. You know where the towels are. Help yourself to anything we have in the kitchen. Just remember one thing, Naomi. You're Blair's mother and you'll always be welcome in our home, but you ARE a guest."

Naomi flinched at the truth of the statement and returned Jim's neutral look.

"Thank you."

Jim was halfway up the stairs when his low soft voice stopped her as she was entering Blair's room.

"Oh, and Naomi? Leave the copy of the loft key you had made without my consent or knowledge on the counter when you leave this time."

A sharp intake of breath was her only response before Jim disappeared into the bedroom.

After changing into sweats and a T-shirt, he settled into the soft warm bed on his back. Jim cataloged the still slightly elevated vital signs of his wide-awake young charge.

"I'm sorry I started with Naomi, Chief. I just couldn't let her think I would hurt you in any way. She still doesn't understand."

Blair turned over to face his roommate and heaved a resigned sigh. Jim was startled to hear the young voice still tearful.

"I love her, she's my mom, but she won't understand even if you explain it to her, Jim. Naomi is like SO against corporal punishment she can't even discuss it openly. She'll never understand. Just like she's never understood why I've missed having a father. It didn't matter to her so it shouldn't matter to me."

A soft whisper finished his thought.

"But it did and it does. I-I wish you'd been there."

A long arm snaked out and pulled him close. Burying his face in Jim's T-shirt, Blair began to lightly sob. Tension and stress of the day took their toll on the exhausted young man.

"I'm here now, Chief. Now and forever."

Within moments, Jim felt a heavy weight gradually slump against his side. Using his free hand to smooth the wild curls back from the young man's face, Jim wiped spent tears way with his fingertips. Adjusting the blankets and the small form beside him more comfortably, Jim sighed and closed his eyes, drawing Blair closer.

Tomorrow was not going to be pleasant.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Naomi had yet to emerge from the small bedroom. Jim and Blair enjoyed a quiet breakfast of their usual eggs, toast and coffee. Their conversation was less enthusiastic then usual, but was not lacking in warmth and understanding. Both were experiencing a little dread at the up coming confrontation.

Just as the two men finished up the last of the dishes, Naomi breezed out of the bedroom. Eyes lighting on her son she rushed to him for a hug with a bright greeting.

"Good morning, sweetie! Are you feeling better this morning?"

Pulling back slightly from the embrace Blair reassured her as best he could.

"I'm fine Naomi. I told you last night I was fine."

"I know honey, I just want to be sure."

"Mom, please! Let's sit down and talk about this. I want you to understand. I NEED you to understand."

Leading the way to the couch, Blair sat down and gently pulled his mother down on the couch beside him. Jim followed at a discreet distance, placing himself between the door and the other two occupants of the room.

"I'll go with you to Senor Diaz's estate today."

Naomi clapped her hands together and made a pleased giggle. Blair raised a hand to quiet her response.

"For two weeks. Next Tuesday, Jim will come down. He got the time cleared with Simon. You said Diaz's private plane flies into Cascade every Tuesday for business purposes, so he can pick Jim up next Tuesday. They can bring us back a week later. I'll only go down with you if you agree to this. I want to spend my birthday with both of you. I want us to get along. If we can't be a family, can't we at least be friends? Please?"

Jim clamped his jaw shut tighter as he watched his young friend pleading with his mother for a few days of her time spent the way he wanted and needed them for a change. The woman who required him to drop everything and rearrange his life around her time window and her plans every single time she came to visit.

Forget that she had lied to him, made him live a life full of struggles and pain, battling with feelings of inadequacy and awkwardness all because she changed his age to try to hurry him into an academic life and out of hers.

Forget that she had accused his best friend and surrogate father of beating him and was actively trying to persuade Blair to give up his relationship with him. Was she jealous of their relationship? Can't she share him? Is that why she would never let him know about his father?

No matter what Naomi did, Blair clung to her. The parent/child bond was incredible. Or was it just that Blair was incredible? But Blair had extended that parent/child bond to include Jim now and he wasn't going to give it up. The trip included Jim or there was no trip.

Naomi stared deep into her son's wide blue eyes and resigned her self to the truth. No Jim--no Mexico with Blair.

"I mean it Naomi. I love you, but if Jim isn't on that plane next Tuesday, I will walk back to Cascade if I have to."

"No you won't, Chief. I'll be there."

Blair turned to the older man, relieved to see the restrained love, affection and protectiveness in the man's expression. Feeling the need to keep both his 'parental' units on equal footing he gently rebuked his roommate.

"Jim, you need to be less defensive when talking with my mom, OK?"

Jim's determined stare met Naomi's resigned glare and with a nod both parties gave in to the small form between them.

"I hear that, sweetie. It's your birthday. Hector loves having company, one more guest won't be a problem for him, I'm sure. We're expected to be at the airport by 4:00 PM, so you have plenty of time to pack. Maybe we could all go out for lunch? How does that sound?"

Jim tried to salvage some form of normalcy to the day and put Blair's fears to rest for the time being. He didn't want his young charge to leave upset and unsure of his place in Jim's world. Now was the time to think about Blair, not his own insecurities and nor his opinion of Naomi.

"That sounds fine to me. What do you say, Chief? Get a little shopping in, pick up a few things for the trip and grab a bite to eat before we head back here to pack."

Blair smiled at the attempt both people were making to heal the split, however temporary.

"I hear that. Sounds like a plan. Let's go!"

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim carried the oversized duffel bags to the open hatch where a crewman was loading luggage into the small private plane on one of Cascade airport's more distant runway hanger entrances. Handing over the two bags, he turned and watched as a man dressed in a flight suit greeted Naomi enthusiastically.

"Looks like they're old friends. He must be the pilot."

Jim turned to Simon as Naomi disengaged herself from the pilot's embrace and introduced Blair to the man. Simon had been informed of their plans earlier in the day and had insisted on meeting them at the airport to say goodbye to both Naomi and his young observer.

Blair and Simon had reached a new level of closeness and understanding over the last few weeks following Jim's out of town trip to Seattle. The understanding had been reached after an impromptu but well deserved spanking on Blair's part delivered by Simon. Realizing the gruff and loud captain cared for him had been a startling revelation for the young man. But he had promptly included the tall black man in his small circle of family within his heart.

"Yeah, Simon, Naomi is friends with just about everyone. At least every male."

"Don't let Blair hear you talking with that attitude about his mother, Jim."

"I know. I'm pissed off and not in the most charitable of moods right now, Simon. I had his whole birthday planned out. Now it's all canceled, dinner at the Barbary Coast, a play at that new place downtown, the surprise party you and the guys had planned for him, and the camping trip after Naomi left. Shot all to hell! All she had to do was show up and bat her eyes. Then point out that he never gets to see her for his birthday. Like that's HIS fault. She can't even remember which birthday it is! I just have to keep reminding myself this is making Blair happy whether I like it or not."

"I know Jim. But you can't let Blair see you're disappointed. It'll ruin what little pleasure he has left for his birthday. If it's one thing I learned in my divorce with Joan, you can't bad-mouth the other parent in front of the kids."

"For Christ's sake! I'm not divorced from Naomi, Simon!"

"It's still the same thing, Jim. She's Blair's mother and for all intents and purposes, you're his father. You two act like you're divorced anyhow. I still can't believe she changed his dates and obtained forged documents with as much thought as if it was a car registration renewal or something. It's like turning up the mileage on a new car. That woman is one I will never understand. Don't even want to go there!"

"That shows you how much regard she actually has for Blair. Her excuse was so, I don't know, weak I guess. Just so he could go to school? You put your own child through all of that just so he can start school early? I don't know Simon. It sounds flaky to me."

"Don't make something out of nothing here, Jim. It's so flaky, it sounds just like something she would do."

"Yeah, you're right, Simon."

"Damn straight!"

"Let's go say our good-byes before I change my mind about being agreeable and haul his little YOUNG ass back home."

Jim sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. He and Simon joined the small group at the plane steps and were introduced to the pilot. Simon shook hands with the man and gave Naomi a kiss and a hug goodbye. Turning to his young observer he swiftly caught up the boy in a tight hug to his chest raising Blair's feet a good foot off the ground. Hastily returning the startled form to his feet, Simon reached out and tousled the wild head of curls.

"Behave yourself, son, or I just might feel the need to scratch that itch in my palm again."

Blair recovered from his surprise and embarrassment quickly and grinned at the tall captain.

"Yeeees, Simon."

"Smart-mouthed kid. Take care of yourself and your mom too."

"Yeeees, Simon. I'll miss you too. Bye!"

Turning to Jim, Blair hesitated a moment, than launched himself at the big man. Wrapping his arms around the trim waist, he buried his face in the solid chest before him. Comforting bands of warm steel encircled him and drew him even closer.

"Love you, Jim."

Sentinel hearing was needed for that one.

"I love you, Chief. Take care and call me as soon as you reach the airport and then again from the estate. I'll see you a week from today. No adventures until I get there, OK, Junior?"

A large hand stroked the soft curls for a moment then both men pulled back, the younger one more slowly and with less certainty.

Jim pulled a small roll of bills from his pocket and stuffed them in Blair's shirt pocket. Smiling he tapped both sides of the young man's face affectionately and kissed the top of his head.

"A little mad money until I get there. You didn't plan on making this trip so I know you didn't have any extra saved for it. It's only a few bucks. Phone money, cab fare, whatever. I want you to have some cash on you for emergencies."

A dazzling smile cut through the dull ache in his chest as his young charge beamed up at him.

"Thanks, man. You're the best, Jim. It's only one week but I'm going to miss you, big guy."

"I'll see you for your birthday. Your real birthday. Be good, Chief!"

"I will. I call as soon as we land. Be careful while I'm gone. No gun fights or zone outs, OK?"

"Deal, Chief."

"OK, then."

"Yeah. You'd better get a move on, buddy."

"Yeah. Bye! See you in a week. Call you in a couple of hours."

"Right!"

"Bye, Jim!"

"OK!"

Reluctantly breaking away from the older man, Blair walked backward the few paces to the open door to the plane. Waving one last time at the two older men on the tarmac, he ducked inside the plane and the door was immediately sealed. A smiling but tentative young face appeared out a side window.

Jim and Simon waved back as the plane taxied out to the airstrip runway. Jim heaved a depressed sigh as the plane rolled further and further down the airfield. A comforting hand landed on his shoulder.

"Now you know what I feel like every time Joan spirits Daryl away to someplace out of town on every holiday she can. Leaves you with a big empty hole right about here."

Simon patted Jim's left chest wall gently. Jim nodded and strained his hearing up a notch to hear Blair's final soft "Bye, Jim, love you." He flinched slightly as his cell phone's jarring ring assaulted his ears.

Never taking his eyes off Blair's plane, Jim open his phone.

"Ellison."

"Jim? This is Mary Winters, Mark's sister?"

"Yes, Mary, hi."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you said to give you a call if I remembered anything else about your partner's birth, and I have. Kind of."

Jim continued to track the small plane as it gained speed and began its ascent.

"Oh? What is it Mary?"

"Remember I said Nora left a few days after the baby was born and Naomi left about a week after that and I thought something was strange about it but couldn't remember what? Well I remembered. It was Naomi that left with the baby."

"Why would that be strange Mary?"

"Because, Jim, it was Nora that was pregnant."

Jim jerked his concentration down from the plane and stared at Simon.

"Are you sure about this? Very, very sure, Mary?"

"As sure as I can be after 23 years. I'll admit I was doing some weed daily back then, but not enough to change the facts. They were just so 'together' about everything while they were there, I also forgot. Then I remembered thinking how much the baby looked like his mother small and petite, with her beautiful bow shaped lips, unusual for a little boy. Petite like his mother, Nora."

Jim looked up and watched as the small plane gradually disappeared from even his sentinel sight. A feeling of foreboding descended on him.

"Jim? Jim, are you still there?"

"Yes, yes, I'm still here. Thanks for calling Mary. I do appreciate it."

"You're welcome. I'm glad I could help. Ah, feel free to call if you need to talk.... about the commune some more or...ah, anything."

Jim smiled to himself.

"I will. Thanks again. Bye Mary."

"Goodbye, Jim."

Simon caught the predatory gleam in his detective's eye.

"What's up, Jim?"

"Trouble Simon. With a capitol B."

"Don't tell me the kid's in trouble already and he hasn't even landed in a foreign country yet. He's with his mother, how much trouble can he get into?"

"That may be the problem Simon. Blair just may NOT be with his mother. If Mary Winters is right, he never has been."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The private plane touched down in Mexico City and its passengers were met by Diaz's limousine. Two hours later, Naomi and Blair were settling comfortably into their respective bedrooms in Hector Diaz's beautiful and outrageously large estate.

The estate covered over ten acres and was surrounded by a twenty-foot high wall with armed guards patrolling the perimeter. Hector Diaz was an extremely wealthy man.

Naomi had met Diaz twenty-three years ago during a protest march at one of his families' businesses in Cascade. Naomi was part of a group protesting the use of a naturally occurring ingredient used in a product one of Diaz's companies manufactured. The ingredient was only found in a flowering plant indigenous to the Cascade area mountains. Naomi's group felt the area was being stripped of its natural resources with no return to the environment.

After chaining herself to the front lobby doors in a spectacular but pointless attempt to bring media attention to the situation, Naomi came face to face with the company president.

While calmly opening the doors by having maintenance men remove the handles to which Naomi had chained herself to, the charming and very persuasive man invited the beautiful and exciting red head to lunch to present her groups formal protests. She accepted.

After explaining a plan was already in the works to revive and sustain the wildflower in the region as well as cultivating plants to produce their own supply of the difficult to grow plant, the afternoon lunch turned into two weeks of romance. Parting ways on very friendly terms, Naomi and Hector had maintained contact throughout the years.

This was Blair's second trip to Diaz's estate. Hector looked fondly upon Naomi's only child and treated him as his own. He occasionally wondered where the boy had been when he had first met Naomi. She had reassured him she was free and unencumbered at the time. Blair should have been around four then. The boy looked so young for a man having his 27th birthday.

When Naomi had contacted him and asked to bring Blair to Mexico for his birthday celebration, Diaz was thrilled with the idea and made immediate plans.
The chance to see Naomi again was too interesting to pass up, plus he enjoyed the energetic young man. Any opportunity for a celebration was a delight to a bored millionaire in his fifties.

Diaz's wife had passed on many years ago, before his meeting Naomi and both his adult sons were presently in Europe on business. Naomi's visit couldn't have come at a better time.

Once he was unpacked and showered, Blair settled on the huge bed to phone home once again. Already having contacted his Blessed Protector upon arriving at the airport, Blair dutifully fulfilled his promise and called home a second time in less than three hours.

"Ellison."

"Hey, big guy, its me again! We made it to the estate fine. It looks just like it did five years ago-- fantastic! You'll love it here! Your senses will be in heaven, man. No noise but the surrounding jungle sounds, no smog to burn your eyes, warm breezes, moist air on your skin, no exhaust and garbage to assault your sense of smell and Maria, the cook here, will absolutely kill you with her dishes. You're gonna love it here, man."

"Whoa! Slow down, Chief! It sounds great. I can't wait to join you."

"I can't wait either. I know this trip is making my mom happy but I really want to share it with you, Jim. You know, Central America, jungle backdrop, native cultures, it's not Peru but it's close. I want to experience that with you, you know, sentinel and guide."

"I understand, Chief. I'll be there in six days. You can hold on that long can't you?"

"Yeah, Jim. I can hold on. Can we visit one of the local tribes when you get here? I'll get some info on them from Hector. I know he employs some of them to work the estate. We could take a day trip to the village and maybe some of the local ruins! Then---"

"Okay, Junior, okay! You plan the itinerary and pack the supplies and I'll show up with my hiking boots. Leave some room on it for your birthday, kiddo."

"Yes! I guess Naomi has some surprise planned, I just don't know what."

Jim's tone of voice turned serious with concern.

"Is everything okay with you and Naomi, Chief?"

A deep sigh echoed across the miles and touched the sentinel's heart.

"Yeah, sure Jim. If Naomi doesn't want to talk about something she doesn't. Just like if she does want to, you never hear the end of it until she's happy with the outcome. She has definitely decided she doesn't want to talk about my age or my relationship with you. It's just as well, she wouldn't understand anyway. I'd be wasting my breath. She never wanted me to know my real father and I think she's jealous that you fill that hole in my life."

Jim softened his voice and tried to reassure his faraway charge. No matter what Jim's feelings and suspicions were about Naomi, providing comfort and security for the boy was his first concern.

"Maybe she just doesn't want to share you, Chief. She does love you."

"Maybe. But then why was she always leaving me places, leaving me with strangers. I don't think that's it. I mean I know she loves me in her own Naomi kind of way, but I don't think she's afraid to share me. I think she's afraid I'll love somebody more than her. Then I won't be so eager to see her every time she breezes into town. She doesn't understand. She's my mom, man. I'll always love her."

"Let's leave the rest of this discussion open until I get down there, okay? You enjoy your time with Naomi and make up that list of things you want to do. We'll have plenty of time to talk when it's not costing twenty bucks a minute."

"I guess, but it's Hector's dime. He has LOTS of them."

"Be a good guest, Einstein. Hang up the phone."

"Yes, Dad."

"Goodbye, sonny boy."

"No way man! You are NOT calling me 'sonny boy'! I've got enough nicknames!"

"Say goodbye Blair."

"Bye, Jim."

"Bye, Chief."

With a smirk at the now disconnected phone, Blair hurried to dress and meet his mother and Hector downstairs. They were going to have a late dinner and discuss plans for the morning's trip into the local town several miles away.

The next few days would be a whirlwind of activity if he knew Naomi. Every minute filled with new sights and new people. It was exciting but Blair couldn't help wishing Jim were here even now to share these moments with him.

Slipping on beige khakis and a bright tropical print shirt he hurried out to meet the others and officially start his vacation.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim hung up the phone and rubbed both hands over his tired eyes.

He and Simon had spent the last five hours going over Blair's records looking for clues to help deduce who his real biological mother was. Short of finding someone who actually assisted in the birth or the elusive Nora herself, they kept coming up empty.

The doctor connected with the Health Department who had visited the commune to issue the birth certificate had died six years ago. The doctor's records had not revealed any new information.

Obtaining a certified copy of Blair's birth certificate had not given them any new insights either. Naomi Sandburg was listed as the mother with no one down as the father.

Mary Winters was contacted again, and again she was certain Nora was Blair's mother. Certain only one woman was pregnant and that woman had been Nora not Naomi. She had promised to try to contact some of her old friends from her commune days and try to find out if anyone was present during the actual birth or if they remembered Nora's full name. So far no one who could be found at this late hour remembered anything useful.

All Jim had was one woman's firm belief in her memories and his own gut feeling.
Against all the evidence, Jim trusted Mary Winters' memory and himself more then he trusted the facts. He knew Naomi wasn't Blair's biological mother. His instincts told him so.

He had always wondered how Naomi could wander off and leave her child time after time to the care of strangers for weeks and months on end, only to collect him later like a forgotten suitcase. How could she not understand the pain and stress she would be putting him through forcing him into school and college at such a young age? Couldn't she see the pain and loneliness her absence brought to the boy even now? Why didn't she care to see it?

<< Because she's not his mother. No one who allowed themselves to get to know Blair could ever turn their back on him. The entire gang at the bullpen would fight to protect the young man at the first sign of trouble. Even Daniel Burke and his men, seasoned covert ops agents, had fallen victim to the wily little guy's charm, for Christ's sake! Why can't Naomi love him the way he deserves to be loved, completely, unconditionally and without hesitation?

Jim got up and grabbed a beer from the kitchen. Throwing himself down on the couch he listlessly stared into the flames in the fireplace and thought about Nora.

<< What would it take to make a woman give her baby up? Mary said Naomi and Nora didn't arrive together but that doesn't mean they didn't know each other before. Maybe they made arrangements to meet at the commune. If you wanted to blur the facts of a birth, a commune, with it's loose organization and easy lifestyle, not to mention mountains of drug use, was a good place to pull it off.
That still left the question of why? Damn it Naomi, WHY? The kid doesn't deserve this. Jesus, the last thing he needs is to know he doesn't even belong to Naomi! That she's no closer to him than any one of the 'aunts' she used to leave him with! Bitch!

Slugging back the last of his beer, Jim strode into the kitchen and dropped the bottle into the recycling box. Realizing his train of thought was getting him nowhere fast he called it a night and climbed the stairs to bed. Staring up at the stars out of the skylight over his bed his last thoughts of the day turned to the other half of his soul.

<< I'll never let you down, Chief. I'll be there no matter what. You are my family, my child, and my heart. I swear it. To hell with DNA. I don't give a shit who your mother really is as long as that lack of knowledge doesn't hurt you. You're mine, now and forever. I couldn't love you more if you were born to me.

With that solemn vow, sleep finally claimed the weary sentinel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blair jumped out of the passenger side of the jeep and grinned at the driver.

"Thanks for letting me come into town with you for supplies, Miguel. I have a hundred things to do before my friend comes down on Tuesday. I'll be as fast as I can."

Miguel Santos grinned back at the bouncing young man. The fifty-some year old man was in charge of Diaz's household and had come to town for supplies for some household repairs. The exuberant young man had searched him out first thing this morning to beg a ride into town with him. He had been happy to bring the interesting and talkative boy with him. The young man was respectful, intelligent and very curious. Miguel delighted in his company.

"You are very welcome, little one. Take your time. I will be at least an hour gathering the needed supplies here at the hardware shop and then down the street at the marketplace for fresh fish for today's lunch. You will find most of what you seek here on the main street. Do not wander far. The streets are not always safe for strangers."

"I'll be careful, Miguel. Jim will kill me if I get into any trouble before he gets down here. I'll stay in sight of the jeep, okay?"

"Si, little one. Be watchful. Senor Diaz is expecting you home for the noon meal, child. Stay on the main street!"

Walking backwards away from his companion, Blair waved at the gruff sounding but gentle older man as he raced away.

"I will. I promise. One hour."

Shaking his head in wonder at the youthful energy, Miguel turned to face a group of three unsavory looking men who were leaving the hardware shop. All three had stopped to watch the exchange between Diaz's help and the young American.

Hector Diaz was a very wealthy man and that made him a very well known man, both to respectable hard working citizens and criminal elements alike.

Staring hard at the men as he walked past, Miguel signaled to his assistant Jose to follow him into the shop. He made a mental note to hurry through his errands and find the young one as soon as possible. With men like that in town the boy needed someone with him.

Shifting a bundle of supplies under one muscled arm, the tallest of the three men watching Blair and Miguel looked thoughtfully after the retreating form of the young man.

"American. He must be the one who is staying with his mother at the Diaz estate. I heard the shopkeeper talking. Diaz is planning a big party on the 6th to celebrate the boy's birthday."

His longhaired companion to his left joined in the speculation.

"The boy must mean something to him. I wonder how much?"

The third member of the group stepped into the street and followed the path of the oblivious young man with keenly intelligent eyes. The man slowly stroked his full black moustache thoughtfully before he spoke.

"Another day my friends. We have business to attend to for now. I believe the cantina down the street is calling our names, si?"

All three men laughed roughly and headed out into the street. Five hundred feet down the avenue, the man with the moustache stopped to watch as the young man from earlier suddenly popped up in front of him from behind a display case of knives.

He watched as the shopkeeper and the boy haggled over a price and slowly stepped up beside the young man when the clerk went in search of a box. The knife was obviously a gift.

"That is a beautiful choice. Someone will be very pleased to receive such a gift."

Blair spun around and gave the man beside him a hesitant, shy smile. Alfonso Ortega stared into the widest blue eyes he had seen in a long time. Intelligence, youth and, most of all, innocence shone in the deep blue orbs.

"You think so? It's for a friend of mine. My best friend. He's like my father really."

Blair ran his fingers over the black onyx inlaid handle of the pocketknife, caressing the image of a jungle cat delicately carved into the pitch black stone.

"Yes, indeed. Is it his birthday?"

"No, actually it's mine. Jim's always doing things for me. I just wanted to get him something that would show him I appreciate him. I thought I'd be untraditional and give HIM something for my birthday. He does so much for me everyday."

Blair stopped the stream of words and stepped a little farther back from the man as the clerk returned and gave the trio surrounding Blair a nervous and frightened glance. The shopkeeper had reliable personal radar for trouble.

The two men behind Blair stepped away at the first signs of nervousness in the young man. The third man continued to smile and Blair smiled nervously back as he waited for his purchase.

"He is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful child as his friend and companion. How old will you be, nino?"

"Ah, twenty three next week."

"Twenty three! Well, Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy your time in Mexico. Forgive me for intruding. Possibly we will meet again sometime."

"Ah, yeah, well, anything is possible, man. Thanks!"

Tucking his purchase in his backpack, Blair self-consciously slipped past the three men and hurried down the street towards the next shop he needed to visit. He wasn't sure exactly why but the friendly man at the shop had unnerved him. He had felt the calculating stares of the two men behind and had suddenly sensed he was being assessed and evaluated for his worth like a Ming vase. Putting distance between him and these men seemed like a very good idea.

Soon Blair was lost in the fascinating world of Mexican street vendors with all their colorful array of goods. He jerked back to reality when a firm hand landed on his shoulder. Exhaling the breath he had suddenly held, Blair smiled at the sturdy figure of Jose, Miguel's assistant, at his side.

"I have found you, Senor Sandburg. Miguel wanted me to stay with you. He will be longer waiting for a part. I will walk with you, si?"

"Sure, Jose. And it's Blair, OK? Just call me Blair. I'm almost done with my errands. I'm getting thirsty though. Is there someplace we can grab a quick drink? Because, I gotta tell you, man, it is hot!"

"Si, Senor Blair, there is a nice little cantina just down the street. We can get a cold one and then finish your shopping. It will be cool inside. You will like."

"Ah, Jose, that sounds perfect. Lead the way, man."

Passing a small side street Blair noticed a café tucked into the side of a building.

"Let's stop in there, Jose. It's a lot closer. I can finish up a lot quicker if we just duck in here for a drink. Come on, man!"

Uncertain about the dingy cantina, Jose hesitated but when the young American insisted and turned towards the shop, Jose shrugged his shoulders and joined him. After all it was just for five minutes and a cool drink.

Turning the corner into a small side street, both young men strode into the small, darkened cantina. Relishing the 10-degree drop in temperature, Blair sighed with delight and tried to focus his eyesight to accommodate for the darkness.

Jose and Blair seated themselves at the small bar and looked around for someone who worked here. Blair dumped his backpack on the floor at his feet, sliding it well out of the way. The place was surprisingly emptied compared to the midmorning activity outside. No bartender or waitress came out. No new customers came in. A booth near the back held several men deep in conversation.

Blair looked at Jose and both shrugged their shoulders in unison. Jose called out.

"?Por favor? ?Perdone, senor?"

Muffled voices could be heard from a room behind the bar. Momentarily the door opened and a heavy set man with a thick black moustache and beard walked out and wandered over to the two new customers.

?Que desea?"

Jose smiled and motioned towards the young man at his side who was currently looking around at the cantina's beautiful tile work on the walls behind them.

"My friend and I would like a cold drink. Two iced teas, por favor."

The bartender smirked chillingly at them and shook his head.

"I am out of tea."

Blair turned around and smiled at the burly man.

"Okay, a couple of beers, man. Anything cold will do. We only have a few minutes but I'm parched."

Staring at the open and guileless young face the bartended softened his hard demeanor and pulled two bottles of beer from a cooler. Setting them on the bar he snatched the bills Blair lay out and walked away.

Gulping the first three inches of the cool liquid down, Blair closed his eyes and sighed with satisfaction.

"Jim would kill me if he saw me drinking beer at 10:30 in the morning just because they're out of iced tea. He'd kill me twice if he knew I paid for it with his money too! Soooo, when my friend gets here next week let's not tell him about this little stop, OK, man?"

"Miguel would also not be pleased. Your secret is safe with me, amigo!"

Both young men grinned at each other and downed more of their beers. Sliding off the barstool, Blair looked around until he noticed the sign for the restrooms. Pointing to his chest and then towards the back rooms as he drained the last from his bottle, he signaled his intent to his companion. It would be a long ride back to the estate if he didn't take care of business first.

As Blair approached the restrooms, he passed close by the booth at the back were the meeting of several men was taking place. Blair's glance flickered over the occupants of the booth and hesitated briefly when he recognized the three men from the knife shop. His gaze came to a momentary dead stop when it landed on one of the other two men in the booth.

He step faltered as he jerked his eyes away from the man and hurried to the restroom. Locking himself in a stall, Blair took several deep breaths to try and calm down.

< Holy SHIT! Manuel Barranza! Shit, shit, SHIT!

Barranza had been manager of one of the largest banks in Venezuela, wanted for conspiracy and money laundering in connection with the Mexican Juarez Drug Cartel. He escaped extradition in the final sweep of a 3 year sting called "Operation Casablanca" hosted by the feds just last month. His picture had been all over the news every night for weeks.

< And here he is, with me, in a cantina, drinking beer with three guys who were chatting me up just half an hour ago. What kind of karma do I have, man? This is so not good. Not good. Not good. Maybe they didn't notice that I recognized him. Yeah! They weren't even looking at me, I-I don't think. God, I've got to get out of here and get back to the estate. Find a policeman first and tell them he's here. Yeah, just wander back to the bar casual like and head out the door with out looking at them again. I can do this. After I take a leak, man. I am so nervous I've got to take care of business first before I embarrass myself. Nervous and a full bladder are so not a good combination, man.

After hurriedly using the facilities, Blair took a deep breath and braced himself for the fifty paces needed to get past the booth and out the cantina door. With a little shake all over and a deep calming breath through his nose, he pushed open the door and started toward his abandoned companion. His step faltered as he realized Jose was no longer in the cantina.

The five men were also no longer in the booth. Only Ortega remained seated at the table. His two companions lounged near the front door. The tall one idly playing with a buck knife from the sheath at his waistband. Blair walked to the middle of the room and stopped. Turning slowly around in a circle to verify that Jose really wasn't present, he let his frightened gaze rest on Ortega.

"W-were is m-my friend?"

"He stepped out for uno momento."

Blair swallowed hard and licked his lips, biting down on the lower lip to keep it from trembling.

"I-I guess I'd better go find him."

"That will not be necessary, pequeno nino. I can take you to him."

Swallowing hard and backing away slight, Blair divided his attention between the men at the door and Ortega.

"Ah, thanks but we have people waiting for us. They are probably looking for us right now. I lost track of time. I'll just head out and find him."

"Ah, but this Mexico, pequeno, there is plenty of time for everything. No one is in a rush here. Not tourists, shopkeepers, peasants, or bank managers."

Blair started at the mention of bank managers and flashed a guilty look at Ortega.

"Ah, I though so. You are too young to hide your thoughts well, pequeno. I should have realized an American would probably recognize my companion. The American news is very thorough and relentless."

Blair shifted nervously from one foot to the other and shot a glance behind the bar hoping for aid from the bartender. An expressionless face returned his pleading look. Blair turned his attention back to Ortega.

"Please, man. Don't do what ever it is you're thinking about. Please! I can forget I saw him, at least for an hour or two. I'll go right back to where I'm staying. That will take almost an hour. I won't tell anyone until I'm back there. I promise! Te lo prometo!"

Smiling sadly, Ortega stood up from the booth and advanced slowly on the rapidly hyperventilating young man, pulling his attention from the men behind him.

"I'm sorry, little one, but that won't be enough. You really should have just gone straight home to your madre. I'm sure Senor Diaz will comfort her though."

"You know where I'm staying? How --? Why --?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's say it is safe to assume everyone in town knows when a very wealthy man like Senor Diaz has guests. This is an interesting dilemma for us. Do I kill you to keep you from telling you saw Senor Barranza or do I keep you and demand a ransom from Diaz first? Decisions, decisions. What do you think, pequeno nino?"

Ortega had walked within arms reach of the young man as he talked. Suddenly thrusting out a well-muscled arm, Ortega grasped Blair's upper left arm and pulled him close to his chest. Blair gasped and struggled to free his arm unsuccessfully.

"I-I think not killing me is good. L-letting me g-go is even better. Believe me, man. People are looking for me! I-I was s-supposed to be back at the jeep a long time ago! You'd b-better let me go!"

"I don't think so, little one. I think you should come with us for safekeeping. It can be very dangerous traveling alone in a foreign city. My men and I will see to it that you are kept out of harms way. At least harm from others. That means you only have to worry about the three of us, si?"

"LET ME GO! LET-----!"

Ortega tightened his grip on the struggling young man as the longhaired man, Jesus Reyes, slid up to deftly slip a knotted bandana into Blair's open mouth around the wild halo of curls and tying it tightly at the back of his head. Ortega spun the terrified figure around pulling him to his chest as Reyes landed a solid punch to Blair's left cheek.

The grad student immediately crumbled and was lifted in the air over Reyes' broad muscular shoulder. Ortega tied the dangling wrists together with a leather cord from his pocket and all three men exited out the back door.

As the four men passed the silent bartender the man averted his eyes. The boy had struck him as a good person, young and innocent. It was a shame he had recognized Barranza, but one did what one had to do to stay alive. He would say a few Hail Marys tonight for the boy and light a candle.

Checking the alleyway for witnesses and finding none, the men hustled their bundle out the door, stepping over the unconscious and bloody form of Blair's companion, Jose.

Dropping Blair onto the back seat of an old jeep just outside the door, Ortega slid in to the seat beside his captive and gently propped the curly head in his lap, letting the boy's hair fan out to cover the gag. He then reached out and pulled the restrained hands up close to the young man's body shielding the cord from sight with his own hands.

Reyes and his taller, knife-wielding cohort, Leon Labrada, settled calmly into the front of the jeep. Smiles graced the swarthy complexions as they traded pleased expressions. This was turning out to be a very financially productive day. Large fees to get Barranza out of the country and back to Venezuela and the added bonus of a little impromptu ransom money. Some days were good.

The battered jeep pulled out of the small alley and sped off to the west of the city. Five hundred feet down the road they passed a wide-eyed and suddenly agitated Miguel Santos as he recognized the men from the hardware shop and the colorful tropical print shirt on the figure lying across the back seat of the jeep.

Reyes laughed out loud and hit the gas pedal, swerving to miss the man as he ran into the street. Ortega turned his head to see the older man waving his arms and screaming obscenities after them. A satisfied smile lit up the kidnapper's weathered face.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim settled back in his desk chair and shoved his keyboard away from him. The morning had been spent in two single-minded pursuits. One was to find more information about the elusive Nora, possibly Blair's biological mother. The other was investigating some background information on Hector Diaz, Naomi's friend and Jim's soon-to-be host. Neither search was progressing the way Jim wanted them to go.

The elusive Nora was destined to remain an unknown subject. No matter how many people Jim contacted or left messages for, people either didn't remember her or only remembered she was there and she had been a red-haired beauty, petite and shy. No one else remember which woman had been pregnant.

<< Thank you maryjane! Not only was it 23 years ago but all the witnesses were stoned. God, I just LOVE you're lifestyle choices, Naomi!

Jim was slowly resigning himself to the fact that short of getting Naomi to confess, he was never going to find out the truth about Blair's parentage. It was a bitter pill to swallow. The Blessed Protector in him insisted on knowing all the facts that might affect the well being of his precious young charge. Unsolved mysteries were not acceptable.

Jim grunted his displeasure and stood up to stretch his back. After hitting wall after wall in his attempts to find Nora or any concrete information about her, Jim had turned his attention to Hector Diaz.

Lurking at the back of the sentinel's conscience was the idea that he was searching for dirt on the Mexican businessman to use against Naomi in an unfair bid to force her to tell him the truth about Nora. He ruthlessly shoved the thought deeper to the back of his mind. There were no rules of acceptable conduct where his guide and surrogate son were involved. Blair's safety, happiness and well being were the only important elements in any equation. End of discussion.

Unfortunately for the unhappy detective, Hector Diaz was clean. He was a highly respected businessman and his wealth came from legitimate sources. His family's companies were successful and paid hefty taxes both in the USA and Mexico. He employed many Mexican nationals in his US companies but only those with the proper work permits. He paid his factory workers and administrative employees' fair and decent wages both here and abroad. He contributed privately to many charities and funded research projects. Diaz was known for his intelligence, wit and savvy negotiating talents. He was handsome and charming as well.

<< A damn paragon of virtue! I think I hate the man.

After hitting the break room for another cup of coffee, Jim spent what was left of the morning following leads and reviewing files. Nothing earth shattering had occurred in the last 72 hours in the peaceful city of Cascade. Jim hoped the trend continued until he left to join Blair in Mexico in 5 days.

Signing off one more report, Jim reached out and grabbed the ringing phone off his desk.

"Ellison."

A slightly hysterical female voice assaulted his hearing.

"Jim? Oh, Jim, you've got to come right away! I don't know what to do! Jim---!"

"Naomi? What's wrong? Naomi talk to me!"

"It's Blair! Someone's kidnapped my baby! I-I------!"

"WHAT? Who? What happened? Start at the beginning and take it slow!"

"Jim, I'll explain everything I know, just tell me you'll come down here right away! Hector can have his plane at the airport at 6:00 am tomorrow morning to get you. Please tell me you'll be there!"

"Of course I'll be there, just tell me what happened!"

"Blair went into the city this morning to run some errands. He went with a couple of Hector's men. They split up and some how Blair and Jose met up with some trouble. Jose was found unconscious in an alley. He hasn't regained consciousness yet to give us any more information. Hector's other man, Miguel, saw Blair being taken away in a jeep. He-he thought Blair was unconscious. The police here haven't been able to find a trace of him."

A muffled sob forced the woman's voice to break momentarily.

"I need you! Blair needs you!"

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Get Diaz to send his plane up tonight. Contact me on my cell phone with the when and where. Get copies of any reports you can and have the witnesses ready to speak to me as soon as I get there. Check and see if this Jose is awake yet just before I arrive. I'll want to go see him either way. Have that Migeul be there to pick me up at the airport. I'll want to talk with whoever is handling the case on their end too. I'll be there. Try and stay calm, Naomi. We'll find him. Has there been any contact with the kidnappers at all?"

Jim heard Naomi take a slow breath and steady herself. Her voice was stronger this time.

"No. Nothing, not yet. I'm so worried, Jim."

"I'm heading out now to pack. Call me with the details. I'll see you later."

"All right, Jim, I'll call. And thank you!"

"Don't thank me, Naomi, just do what I asked you to, please."

"I will, Jim. Goodbye."

Hanging up the phone Jim glanced at the clock.

<< 12:15pm. You haven't even been gone 24 hours yet, Chief. I thought it was only Cascade psychos who had you on their radar.

Running a large hand over his short brown hair, Jim sighed and marched up to Simon's door. Knocking once, he opened the door and stuck his head in the room. Simon glanced up and did a double take at the look of dread clearly etched on the detective's face.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me, it's Sandburg isn't it?"

Jim nodded and stared at his friend blankly.

"Naomi just called. Blair's missing, someone saw him unconscious in the back of a jeep. Naomi says he's been kidnapped, but no ransom demands have been made yet. I'm having Diaz sent his plane up tonight for me. I have to leave town early, Simon. Blair needs me."

"God damn it! Can't that kid stay out of trouble even on vacation? Was he hurt? Do the police down there have any leads?"

"No one seems to know much, sir. Naomi says the locals don't have a clue at the present time."

Simon grabbed his phone and started dialing numbers.

"I can be packed and at the loft in about an hour. Let me make a couple of calls and I'll be ready."

"Simon, you don't have to do this. Blair is my responsibility."

"I know. But I have a stake in the little guy's welfare too. Do you know how many asses I had to kiss to get his observer credentials approved? I'll be damned if I'm going to let it all go to waste because his scrawny little butt is lost in some god-forsaken Mexican jungle. That boy owes me!"

Jim managed not to smile at the gruff man's excuses and nodded his understanding as he headed out the door.

"Right, sir."

'Don't smirk at me Ellison! You still owe me big from the last time you left town!"

"Right, sir."

"Don't start with me!"

Jim was saved from further bellowing by the commissioner picking up the other end of Simon's call. The detective used the opportunity to slip out of the office.

Grabbing his coat and turning towards the elevators, he mentally began the list of things he would need for the trip. The list was short. If necessary he would fight and kill these men with his bare hands if needed to secure the return of his young charge.

With no guide near to temper his instincts, Jim steadily shifted into primal Blessed Protector mode.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ray Weston crouched down lower next to his companion and both men tracked the battered jeep as it came to a halt outside of a dingy, white stucco building. The drug cartel's safe house was located deep in the surrounding jungles of the city. Weston pulled up his binoculars and watched as the three men they had under surveillance for the last week jumped from the vehicle. Two more men from inside the house quickly joined them.

Dressed in jungle camouflage and heavily armed, both Weston and James had been awaiting Ortega's return. They were hoping to see evidence that Ortega and his men were the Juarez cartel's link to Manuel Barranza. Securing the escaped banker's capture before the cartel managed to get him out of the country was their primary mission.

Ethan James uttered a small grunt of surprise as Alfonso Ortega turned and lifted a small form from the seat beside him. The body was limp and dangled freely across Ortega's shoulder, face obscured by long curly hair. It was difficult to tell from the size but the build suggested it was a slight male. Both hands were clearly bound together. This was not a willing addition to the drug cartel's little troop of soldiers.

Silently, both covert ops soldiers watched as the body was carried into the building. Leon Labrada and one of the others remained behind to pace the exterior perimeter checking for signs of intruders. After satisfying himself that all was secure, Labrada entered the dwelling leaving his companion watching the surrounding area.

Pulling back to a safer distance, James sighed and habitually checked his weapon for readiness.

"Well, this puts a bit of a kink in things. Now we have to worry about an innocent when we hit them."

Weston shook his head and grimaced at the thoughts behind his next words.

"We don't know that. He could be a rival drug gang member. A petty thief caught lifting a wallet. Somebody's kid sold for entertainment. Anyway, it's not our problem. Besides, we'll probably be doing him a favor when we hit them. I just hope Barranza shows up soon, for the guy's sake."

James only reply was a low grunt of displeasure. Turning his back on his companion, he gestured toward their camp.

"I'll watch. You go ahead and head back. Let Daniel know about this. Jackson's up to relieve you anyway. I'm good for a couple of hours."

Weston cocked his head at the giant crouched before him and whispered to the big man's back.

"I know he looked like a kid but you can't think about it, Ethan. You can't save them all."

Never turning around the giant stiffened slightly and whispered back.

"I know. Go on."

A light hand rested briefly on his shoulder and then the warmth was gone along with Weston.

When he was sure he wouldn't be over heard, James muttered to himself.

"The problem is, we never save any of them, Ray, not really."

His memory flashed back to another young curly headed boy. A young man with wide innocent blue eyes and boundless enthusiasms for life and knowledge. One that had captured a piece of his heart. One that had made it back alive. Back to his home and someone who loved him. But just barely. But just barely counted. It really did.

"Okay, so we spared one. But one is good, James. Keep remembering, one is good."

Stealthily creeping closer to the building, the giant vowed under his breath.

"But two is better."

Silently positioning himself below a low hanging thicket of bush, Ethan watched and waited.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ortega glanced up as the slight figure on the cot beside his chair stirred restlessly. The bruise on the boy's left cheek had spread to an impressive size and was turning from angry red to deep purple. The left eye was swelling closed and a small cut under the eye still oozed an occasional smear of blood that would run down into the brown curls.

Rising from the chair, Ortega grabbed a cup of cool water from the tap and pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket. Returning to the cot he sat back down and stared at the young man lying helplessly before him.

((Young, lightly tanned, blue eyes when they were open, nice blue eyes, pretty mouth for a boy--need to keep Reyes away from him for the time being--- handsome, innocent looking, young --I said that once, but he is--- small but fit.))

Ortega impulsively ran his hand over Blair's head, carding his fingers through the curls, noting the soft silkiness. Not rough and coarse like his own thick hair. He lifted the unresisting bound hands and felt the smoothness of the small fingertips.
Making small swirls over the tender flesh of one palm, Ortega watch as Blair turned his head toward the tall man and slowly tried to blink his eyes open. Only the right one cooperated.

Suddenly realizing a stranger was sitting very close to him caressing his hand, Blair jerked his hands out of the light grasp and scrabbled back against the wall behind the cot. Terror and confusion was reflected in his battered face and rapid breathing, made all the more difficult by the gag still tied around his mouth.

((He looks so childlike and innocent. Beautiful too. Forget Reyes, I'll have to keep myself away from him. No badly damaged goods until the ransom is paid. Think profits Ortega. Money. You can buy a dozen like him after this. But not just like him. Think of the MONEY. Si, that's better! ))

Reaching out to the terrified young man, Ortega roughly dragged him back across the cot to lay close to the outer edge. Blair cried out a muffled scream and tried to twist out of the bruising grip. Ortega raised a hand as if to strike Blair in the face and Blair froze. The slap never landed.

"Good! That proves you can learn. Be still and lay quietly. I want to wash off your face. Act up and I'll make sure you are sorry that you did, understand pequeno?"

Blair sniffed back a choked response from a dry throat and hastily nodded his head. Holding his bound hands tightly to his chest as if they offered some measure of protection from his imposing captor, Blair watched apprehensively as Ortega dipped the handkerchief into the cup of water. The young man couldn't prevent the slight flinch he made as the cloth was gently wiped across his cheek and down into his ear, removing all traces of blood from his face. Dipping the cloth once more Ortega folded it into a square and placed it over the swelling of Blair's cheek and eye.

"It will help with the swelling. Leave it alone. I will get you something to eat and drink."

Blair watched Ortega walk to a camp stove and dish up some type of food into a bowl and then pour water from a pitcher into a small cup.

Turning his head slowly Blair realized there were three other men in the room sitting at a broken down table playing cards. At least they had been playing cards. Now they were staring at Blair.

Blair recognized Reyes and Labrada from the cantina. The third man was a stranger. The young man darted his gaze rapidly away as Reyes leered at him and slowly licked his lips. Ortega caught the gesture as he returned to the cot and flicked an annoyed hand in the table's general direction. The men returned to their game. A smirk remained on Reyes' face all the same.

Pulling the frightened young man upright, Ortega loosened the knot holding the gag in place. Turning the slight body with little effort, Blair now rested his back against the wall behind the cot. Reaching for the cup of water, Blair found his hands too shaky and numb to hold the cup.

Gently the large man held the cup to his dry lips and allowed the younger man to drink several large sips before pulling it away. Blair licked the last drops of the surprisingly sweet water from his lips unselfconsciously.

"Drink slowly. You'll make yourself sick. Then you'll lay in it for the rest of your stay here. Understand?"

Intense black eyes stared into startled blue ones. Voice hoarse from lack of use and dryness, Blair's reply was a faint whisper.

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

Confused, Blair blinked up at the other man and stuttered out a reply.

"Y-yes, I-I under--understand?"

"Good! You will do everything you are told and you will do it when you are told. You are our prisoner until Senor Diaz agrees to pay a ransom demand. Then you will be returned. Understand that pequeno nino?"

"But I'm just visit----"

"We know. Diaz will pay, for your mother's sake. It is a small sum to a man like him. He will think nothing of it."

"But I saw Barranza. You're not going to let me go."

"We will be out of the country before they find you. There is no need to kill you, if Diaz pays."

Blair's eyes clouded over with fear and despair. He was going to die. He looked into Ortega's face and saw the truth written there. Ortega sat back slightly as emotions raced across the expressive young face before him. Reading the intelligence in the young eyes, he knew the boy realized his true fate and felt an unexpected urge to comfort the shaking figure. Instead he shoved a spoonful of stew at him.

"Eat."

Blair shook his head and tried to bury the need to cry out for his Blessed Protector. His eyes snapped open wide as his hair was grabbed in a tight fist and his head was forced back. He looked into stern, unforgiving pools of blackness. The voice was low and deadly.

"I believe you said you understood."

Swallowing convulsively, Blair turned his tear filled eyes to the floor.

" 'Kay. I-I understand. I'll e-eat."

Ortega slowly loosened his grip and presented the spoon to Blair's lips once again. Hesitantly, Blair forced himself to eat all of the spicy stew wordlessly and was silently rewarded with several more large sips from the water cup.

Fighting the sudden urge to close his eyes, as the last of the water was gone, Blair suddenly found himself flat on his back. His bound hands were pulled over his head and securely tied to the cot frame. He sleepily registered the fact that if his hands weren't untied soon he would be days without their use. Already they were numb, swollen and discolored from lack of circulation.

A cool cloth landed on his left eye again and a light blanket was thrown over his body. He felt what might have been a callused fingertip run over his lower lip, taking the last of the sweet water with it. Blair giggled softly at the last thought to cross his cloudy mind before forced sleep over took him.

< Sweet water, drugged water. You're in Mexico, stupid! Don't drink the water!

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim and Simon stepped off the small private plane and onto the hot runway. 9:00 at night and the tarmac still shimmered with oppressive heat. After scanning the surrounding buildings, Jim shouldered the black bag containing his few personal belongings and waved at Simon to follow him.

His mind faintly registered the sound of the soft cloth of his khaki pants and black silk shirt rubbing against his overly sensitive skin. He automatically blocked out the sound and instinctively searched for the one thing he knew he would not find. Never the less, the sentinel searched. The Sentinel instinct in him searched for his Guide. The father instinct in him searched for his child.

Simon watched, as Jim's face became even more composed, more expressionless, more determined, and more single-minded. The six-hour trip had fascinated the older man as he discovered just how tight a rein his detective usually kept on his senses and his primal instincts. Watching the man beside him systematically turn from Cascade detective and friend into primal Sentinel on a mission to find his stolen Guide was fascinating and more then a little scary.

Jim stood in a shadow cast by the plane and stared out into the night. Simon watched as the silent man once again fingered a length of thin brown leather wrapped around his left wrist several times and knotted there. Simon had never seen Jim wear jewelry of any sort before. Just as he decided to brave the silence and ask Jim about the significance of the makeshift bracelet, the reason for it dawned on the captain.

It was one of Blair's hair ties. Wrapped and tied over the sentinel's pulse point on his wrist to allow him to carry the scent of his guide with him. Jim fingered it repeatedly as he stretched his senses out to ground him and keep him from zoning, to comfort him until he found his guide, his son, child of his heart, his best friend and his soul.

Simon straightened his back and swore silently to do everything in his power to help bring the young man home. If Blair couldn't be found, he knew he would be returning to Cascade alone. He was not willing to give up his best team on the force or his best friends. Not without a hell of a fight.

Tapping Simon's arm lightly, Jim pointed to a small doorway.

"This way, Simon. They're in there. We have to hit customs. Diaz, Naomi and this Miguel are waiting down the hall from customs. Let's go. I don't want to waste any more time."

Both men waited impatiently through the customs check and immediately found their party waiting in the hallway behind them.

Naomi rushed forward and embraced Jim without hesitation. All animosity and distrust from earlier was set aside in light of the problem before them. Once again they were drawn together in a common emotional event centered on the most important part of either of their lives--Blair.

Naomi pulled back and turned tear filled eyes up to gaze at Jim's blank face.

"Thank you, Jim! Thank you for coming! I just didn't know what to do! And you too, Simon, thank you!"

Jim silently handed Naomi over to Simon and glanced at Hector Diaz. The charismatic man walked forward and wordlessly extended his hand to the imposing and slightly frightening younger man from Cascade. Moments passed as Diaz was cataloged and evaluated by Jim's senses. Finally, Jim reached out and firmly shook Diaz's steady hand. Both men remained silent.

Simon patted Naomi's shoulder and hugged her tightly for a moment while watching the tense exchange between Jim and their host. He relaxed minutely as the stoic sentinel finally shook hands.

"You're welcome Naomi. You knew we'd be here. Blair is family."

A small gasp pulled both of their attention to the old Mexican standing behind Diaz. Jim had stalked over to Miguel and pointedly invaded the man's personal space. Miguel had stepped back a pace only to find himself pulled forward by an iron grip on his upper arm. Cold pale blue eyes stared at him from a smooth expressionless face. A warm breath ghosted over his cheek as a soft low voice, barely above a whisper, struck his heart with fear.

"You're Miguel. You were with Blair when he was taken."

"No, senor! Before and then after."

A chilling gaze bore into the old man's heart.

"Did you have anything to do with this?"

The deadly quiet voice chilled Miguel's blood, but the pain he saw in the big man's eyes tempered his fears.

"No, senor, I swear!"

After a tense moment, the simple declaration seemed to satisfy the imposing figure towering over him. Miguel was gently released and a large hand smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. A small measure of the coldness faded from the ice blue eyes and the old man sucked in a deep, calming breath.

Miguel found himself thinking that a power radiated from this man. This one reminded him of the guardians of the jungles in the stories his mother told to him as a child. Senor Blair was something special for this one to come so far for him.

"Tell me everything."

The command was quiet but unyielding. Miguel remained frozen by the hard gaze of the big man. He glanced nervously at his employer. Diaz signaled his agreement with a flip of his fingers and the old man rushed to tell all he knew to this strange guardian. When the old man was done and Jim had asked all there was to ask, the group piled into Diaz's car and departed for the hospital.

Moments later, Diaz hung up the car phone and addressed the detective.

"The hospital says Jose is still unconscious. Would you like to return to my home to freshen up and have something to eat?"

Jim stared out the darkened window gently fingering the leather tie around his wrist.

"We go to the hospital. I need to see this man and everything he was wearing at the time."

"But he can tell you nothing until he awakens. It will be a waste of time."

Simon lightly touched Jim's arm to reassure him as he turned to Diaz.

"He needs to go to the hospital. Trust him, he knows what he's doing."

A long searching look from both Naomi and Diaz followed Simon's statement but Diaz called to the driver and they arrived at the hospital within 20 minutes. It took slightly less time, with Diaz's influence, to obtain admission to the unconscious man's room at 9:30 at night.

Entering the room, Jim focused on the pale form on the bed. The young, smooth face was white and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Bandages covered his left temple and left rib cage. IV's and O2 tubing decorated the silent form.

Jim's hand went rapidly to the leather tie to remind him this was not Blair. Blair was not hurt as far as any one knew. He would find the young man before anything like this happened to him.

Centering himself on the feel of the soft worn leather bound tightly against his pulse, Jim took long minutes to catalog the injured young man's vital signs, scent and appearance. Turning from the bed, he asked for the clothing Jose had been wearing at the time of the attack.

Simon searched through a small stand at the bedside and found a bag of worn and bloody clothing. Handing it off to the detective, he stepped back and tried to distract Naomi and Diaz as Jim pulled out the articles and began to examine them.

Diaz narrowed his eyes and watched the big man run his hands over each piece of clothing. He fingered the dried bloodstains and caressed a section of Jose's worn shirt. Fingering the tie on his wrist once more Jim stared off into space as he appeared to be sniffing the fabric, his body suddenly as lifeless and unmoving as a statue.

Diaz stepped forward in concern but Simon reached out to stop him with a solid arm across his chest. A small shake of the big black man's head stilled their confused host. Naomi watched open-mouthed as the little drama progressed.

Several intense moments went by until the statue took a deep breath through his nose and bent to pick up the fallen clothing and return it to the bag. Placing the container back in the stand, Jim lightly touched a hand to the fevered forehead of the young man before him. Turning away from the bed he focused on the doorway and walked past his startled audience. Simon followed silently.

Jim and Simon strode rapidly down the hall with Naomi and Diaz trailing behind. Glancing back quickly to be sure they couldn't be overheard, Simon whispered to his companion.

"Anything?"

"Maybe. I smelled a cologne or after-shave. Nothing special, but it wasn't from Jose and I didn't find it on Diaz or Miguel either."

"Think it was from his attacker?"

"Could have been. It was concentrated on the front of his shirt. Like someone had grabbed him, fisted his shirt in the front. It was on their hands. I don't know, but I'll remember it."

"Your senses doing okay? Is that bracelet going to be enough to keep you from zoning until we find the kid?"

Jim continued to stare straight ahead. His reply was so soft Simon had to strain to hear it.

"It's going to have to be, at least until Blair's home."

"Yeah, Jim. Let's hope so. Do me a favor and don't push it, okay?"

Silence greeted his request. Simon growled and shoved a cigar in his mouth, choosing not to waste any more words on the deaf ears beside him. Ears that were searching the surrounding miles for one special heartbeat but were deaf to his pleas and suggestions as he walked beside him.

Diaz and Naomi caught up with them at the front lobby. Diaz studied the men before him and questioned Simon.

"Did he find anything of value to you?"

Simon shrugged his board shoulders in a non-committal answer.

"Possibly. We don't know yet. You have to just trust us, Senor Diaz. Jim is the best detective in the Pacific Northwest. You just have to let him work things his own way."

Jim spoke into the darkest surrounding them, his voice low and distant.

"I need to see the alley were Jose was found."

Diaz nodded thoughtfully and opened the door to his car, assisting an unusually silent Naomi in first. All three men settled in and then drove off toward the center of town.

Arriving at the mouth of a poorly lit back alley, Jim sprang from the still moving car. Like a stalking cat, the big man stealthy skirted the garbage and debris left behind by the uncaring and came to a stop outside a flimsy, closed door.

Crouching over a section of the worn cobblestone, Jim ran a finger over a blackened area. Simon quietly joined him as their two companions waited in the car.

"This is were he was knifed. His blood is all over here."

Simon touched his shoulder as Jim extended his senses. Pulling back suddenly, he shook his head as the smells of the garbage, dirt, waste and cooking odors from the cantina overwhelmed him. Lightly rubbing a finger over the soft tie on his wrist, he concentrated and sent them slowly out again. A tingling sensation of recognition touched his olfactory nerves for a brief moment and was gone, pushed away by the overpowering stench of the alley.

Jim shook his head to clear it and stood.

"I got something for a second there but I lost it. Maybe I'll recognize it later. It's gone now."

Simon stood and looked around at the dingy walls.

"What now?"

"Let's check out the cantina this door leads to. This one is locked but Miguel said the entrance is just around the corner. Let's take a look while we're here."

Moments later, both Americans wandered casually into the dirty, poorly lit bar. Jim paused just inside the doorway and let his sight adjust. The small cantina was half full of swarthy, rough looking men. Two young women waited tables and a heavyset man with a beard stood behind the cluttered bar. The room smelled of beer, sweat and heavy spices. Jim grimaced at the assault on his sense of smell.
Pausing to turn the dial down, he shook his head to clear the sudden stab of pain that lanced through his skull.

Moving further into the room, they took up a spot by the bar as regular patrons stared at the two foreigners and stepped away into the shadows. The heavy set bartender reluctantly came forward in response to a chilling glare from the big white man.

"?Que desea, senors?"

Jim pulled a small photo from his pocket and slid it over to the bearded man. The blank, disinterested look slipped from the man's face for a split second as he looked into the wide blue eyes and delighted smile of the same curly headed youth that had been taken from his cantina earlier that day.

Lowering his eyes and schooling his expression, the man then locked eyes with the blue-eyed stranger. Outwardly the bartender was the picture of calm but Jim watched a sheen of sweat pop out on the man's forehead and heard his heart begin to race. Jim kept his voice pitched low and menacing, just this side of the call of death.

"Have you seen him?"

"No, Senor, never!"

"You're sure? He would be easy to spot, always talking and laughing. He might have stopped in here for some reason earlier today. His traveling companion was the one found knifed outside your back door. He might have come in here to get help."

"No. I have never seen him before. He is a handsome boy, I would have remembered. I have been here all day and I have not seen him. The knifing was in the alley behind the cantina. The door was locked like always. I saw nothing. "

Simon leaned forward and added his considerable bulk to the questioning of the much shorter man.

"This happened right outside your door and you heard nothing? No shouts or calls for help? This boy was seen unconscious in the back of a jeep."

The big black man stabbed a finger at the photo on the bar.

"You mean to tell me that one young man is attacked, beaten and stabbed 20 feet from here and another one is knocked unconscious and kidnapped and you never heard a sound from either one of them?"

"I was busy with customers. I heard nothing."

Simon snorted and turned away feeling powerless and ineffective. No badge and no official authority made him feel useless and frustrated.

Jim intently studied the expressionless face before him for long minutes until the man dropped his gaze nervously to the floor. The bartender reached out and gently slid the photo closer to Jim.

"I can not help you, Senor. I'm sorry."

Jim stared at him as the man slowly backed away to wait on a new customer at the other end of the bar. Simon turned around and slowly took in the sights and sounds of the run down cantina.

"I can't see this place being somewhere that the kid would be drawn to at 10:30 in the morning, Jim. Maybe he wasn't here."

Jim broke eye contact with the now frightened bartender and turned to see what his companion saw. Jim shook his head at Simon's defeated tone.

"He's lying. He knows something."

"You sure?"

"Positive. He recognized Blair's picture and not because the locals showed it to him earlier. He's too nervous for it to be just that."

"Jim, let's go back and check with Diaz. Maybe we can talk with the local police and see what they have on this place and our reluctant bartender. Maybe they have something we can use to persuade him to talk."

Woodenly Jim nodded in agreement as he pushed away from the bar and headed for the front door. Slowly letting his subdued senses rise back to investigative levels, Jim cautiously drew in one tentative breath to give the shoddy cantina a final once over.

Jim suddenly stood rigidly still. Turning abruptly, he visually scanned the area of the bar they had been standing at. Taking in another deep breath he flew forward and crouched down beside the counter. Searching deeper into the shadows between the filthy, cracked floor and the raised wooden footrest that ran the length of the bar, the sentinel growled audibly. He shoved two men aside as he dug under the footrest and roughly pulled out a scuffed and dirty, brown leather backpack, scattering cockroaches and dead beetles in his haste.

Running his hands possessively over the leather pack, he clutched it to his chest and inhaled--Blair. Blair had been in here. They were on the right track. He would find the young man and no one would stop him, laws or no laws. His son was at stake, his heart, his soul and his very life. He would do whatever it took to retrieve him from the soul-less monsters that had taken him.

Simon's hand on his shoulder drew him back to reality. He rose and clapped his friend on the arm and extended his prize. Simon touched the pack lightly in awe.

"Blair's?"

Jim unzipped a pocket and slowly pulled out a Rainer University student ID card for one Blair Sandburg along with his Cascade PD Observers pass. Holding the cards in his hand so that the pictures faced out Jim silently flashed them at the now visibly distraught man behind the bar.

Reaching out suddenly with his left hand, the incensed sentinel effortlessly pulled the substantial bulk of the bearded man across the countertop. His right hand wrapped around the thick oily neck and squeezed.

Juan Gurrola thought he was looking into the eyes of death itself. Cold, blue eyes stared into his soul and the soft, deadly growl that puffed into his face chilled the blood in his veins. There was no looking away from the hypnotic, almost animalistic stare.

"I will say this once. He is my life. I will gladly forfeit my life and yours to find him. If need be, I will tear you apart piece by piece with my bare hands and when I'm through there won't be enough of you left over to make a shadow."

Gurrola felt his heart lurch and skip a beat. He desperately believed this man.

Simon kept a watchful eye on the few occupants who had remained in the room, torn between insisting Jim release the man and helping him terrorize him. He settled for guarding the sentinel's back and ignoring the bartender's gasps of distress as the man struggled for air.

"T-three m-men took him out the back way!" Gasp. "For ransom from Senor Diaz!" Gasp! "He was worth much. His friend was not." Gasp!

Jim watched as the man turned a darker shade of brown tinged with bright red. Never releasing the pressure on the man's throat, he hissed at his prey.

"IS worth much!"

Gurrola nodded his head frantically as the pressure on his airway increased a tiny fraction.

"Why was he in here?"

"A drink! Your young one wanted a drink! It was hot! They drank beer."

"Who are these men and where did they take him?"

The answering voice was strained and cracked on every other word.

"I don't know their names, senor! I never wanted to know their names! One especially likes it here. He--he comes for the young men who hang out here sometimes. He comes late at night!"

"Describe him to me."

"Si! 5' 11", 180 lbs., long black hair he wears loose down to his shoulder blades and clean-shaven. He is cruel to the young men he buys favors from. Only the very young or desperate go with him."

Jim bore down harder on the flesh in his hands as he pictured his young charge resting in the hands of the animal Gurrola had described. He reluctantly eased up when Simon's urgent pleas finally broke through his enraged thoughts.

"JIM! Jim, come on, man! Snap out of it! You can't kill him in front of witnesses! Ease up, for God's sake! JIM!"

The Sentinel shook the creature before him.

"If you lift one finger or speak one word of warning to him, I will slice through your vocal cords one at a time as you're pleading for a mercy that will never come."

The fingers wrapped around the bulging flesh slowly opened. The nearly unconscious man slumped to the countertop. A final vow as whispered in Gurrola's ear.

"If my child dies, I will haunt your dreams and I will poison your soul. You will never escape me. I will find you."

Jim straightened up to find Simon and a wide-eyed Diaz staring at him from across the now deserted room. Gathering Blair's pack to him, he silently walked past both men into the night air, pointedly ignoring the shocked look on their faces. They could think what they like, only finding his missing half mattered.

Opening the car door Jim gently handed Naomi the precious backpack, quietly relaying the new information to the distraught but encouraged woman. Diaz and Simon rejoined them as Jim was forcefully suggesting Naomi and their host return to the estate for the night.

Diaz extended an offer of help in any way he could and reluctantly agreed to go home. Naomi tearfully made both men promise to call with any new information as soon as possible.

Pulling Simon's and his bags from the trunk of the car, Jim announced his intention to stake out the cantina and watch for the longhaired man Gurrola had described. Simon went in search of a close hotel so both men could change into more subdued and travel-worthy attire.

Jim took first watch across the street from the cantina, listening for the sound of the bartender's frantic heartbeat. He would know if the man left or talked to anyone. He traded off when Simon returned to relieve him.

Soon both men were outside the cantina, dressed in olive khaki pants, black T-shirts and ankle-high, military-style boots. A small black pack rested on Jim's shoulder.

Silently the sentinel and friend settled back into the shadows to watch and to listen. Simon lightly placed a hand on Jim's arm as the distant and intensely focused man rubbed his fingers continuously over his bound wrist. Jim concentrated fully on the cantina and it's surrounding area, confident the friend at his side would safeguard his back.

Two hours later their diligence was rewarded.

Simon snapped to attention and scanned the surrounding street as he noticed Jim's nostrils flare and the sentinel blink rapidly out of a light zone.

"What is it, Jim?"

Jim tilted his head back and sniffed the air again.

"The same odor I found at the hospital, on Jose's shirt. Aftershave, heavy cheap aftershave."

Both men scanned the small crowds of people wandering through the main street. It was a center for vendors and further down the street, nightlife entertainment could be found. Several young people, male and female, hung from doorways or sat on stoops looking for a night's trick to pay for tomorrow's meals.

Jim systematically eliminated each longhaired male and quickly came to rest on a swaggering figure working his way slowly past the young prostitutes.

"That's him, Simon."

Jesus Reyes turned into the dim light and grinned a brown-stained smile at a young boy of about 12 years of age. Waving the slight figure over to him he pulled the boy close with a brutal grip on his thin arm and whispered into his ear. Jim refocused his hearing from the cantina to the scene before him.

"I want you to deliver a letter to Senor Hector Diaz. Do know where he lives?"

The boy gave a frightened nod and stared into cold dark eyes. This man was known to be cruel for only the pleasure of it. He would do whatever this one wanted and do it quickly.

"Good boy! I want you to take this letter to his estate and leave it with the guards at the gate. Slip away quickly and return here. I will pay you five American dollars. If you do not deliver it or if the guards catch you, I will find you and skin you alive! Hear me, nino?"

The terrified child nodded convulsively and tried to tear his arm from the bruising grip. Reyes grinned evilly in the boy's face and slipped a five-dollar bill down the front of his threadbare, baggy pants, roughly groping the boy as he did it. Pushing a white envelope containing a ransom demand into the small, dirt encrusted hands Reyes shoved the boy away, laughing as the child hit the ground and quickly scrabbled up to escape.

Content and confident his orders would be carried out, Jesus turned to find other entertainment for the night. Picking a young man of about 14 from one of the doorways he flashed a crumpled bill at the hungry youth and followed him into the building.

Jim clenched his jaw and forced himself to dial down his hearing.

"He just sent a letter to Diaz. It's probably a ransom demand. He's going to be occupied for awhile. You slip back to the hotel and call Diaz. Have him notify the guards at the gates to be on the lookout for that first kid. Tell him to do whatever the note says. Don't let him raise any suspicions that he's not cooperating. I'll keep an eye on this piece of shit. If he goes on the move before you get back I'll contact you on the radio. Have Diaz arrange for some type of transportation for us. If this guy heads out for the jungle like I think he will we're going to need it."

Simon patted the tense shoulder nearest him and nodded. Rising from his shadowed perch, he turned to leave, then swung back briefly.

Touching the leather tie on the wrist beside him he cautioned the still figure of his best friend.

"Stay grounded. Don't focus too much on one thing and for God's sake, don't listen into that pervert's playtime! Remember we need him alive and unaware if we're going to have a chance in hell of tracking him back to the kid."

Jim's jaw clenched tighter and Simon heard the faint sound of teeth grinding under the pressure.

"Listen, Jim. It isn't much conciliation but if he's up there, he isn't near Blair. Got it?"

Stabbing a deadly glare in Simon's direction for the space of several heartbeats, Jim finally acknowledged the truth of the statement and gave one sharp nod of his head. The sentinel saw his own feelings of disgust and fear reflected in the face of his friend and reminded himself that the big man cared deeply for his lost charge too.

Simon slipped quietly away as the lone figure in the shadows prepared for the long wait until Reyes decided to return to his lair. Simon returned 45 minutes later after parking a black open-top jeep in a nearby alley.

Shortly past five am Reyes exited the building and headed off down the street. Two blocks from the cantina he turned into a side alley and climbed into a jeep and rode off.

Tracking the sound of the whining engine, Jim followed the trail with his hearing until Simon reappeared with the jeep Diaz had arranged the night before. Both men now wore Bowie knives and miniature radios clipped to the bodies.

Smelling the familiar scent of gun oil, Jim reached under his seat and grinned as he slowly removed two automatic weapons and a pouch of spare clips. His eyes lit up with satisfaction as Simon raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jim checked both weapons for ammunition and rubbed a hand over the barrel of the one in his lap, a feral smile touching his lips.

<< Maybe I don't hate Diaz that much after all.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ethan James shifted position for the fourth time in less than an hour. He found himself uncharacteristically restless and tense. He and Weston had relieved Burke and Burr at 4:00am and once again were monitoring the drug cartel's safe house activities. There had been little movement since nightfall last evening.

Suddenly he picked up the sound of an approaching vehicle. Within moments a late model SUV pulled up to the building and Manuel Barranza disembarked from the passenger side of the truck. A known member of the cartel was acting as driver for the Venezuelan banker. Both men turned towards the house as Ortega and two other mercenaries stepped out to greet them.

Weston quickly appeared at James' side. Pulling a small version of a long-distance listening device from a backpack, the two men focused on the sudden appearance of their intended mission objective.

Ortega extended his hand to Barranza and warmly clapped the distinguished-looking man on the shoulder. Barranza did nothing to hide his grimace of displeasure. Ortega pretended not to notice and smiled into the disdainful face.

"Senor Barranza! Good morning! Did you enjoy your little trip through the jungle?"

"Enough small talk, Ortega. You said to be here by 5:00am and I'm here. Let's finalize the plans to get me out of the country. I leave today, correct?"

Ortega eyed the pompous man and reminded himself once again about his share of the fee for smuggling this man out of the country. The sooner he was rid of the arrogant businessman the better. He was tempted to kill the bastard here and now but knew his bosses needed the banker back in place to further fund their operation. Petty personal pleasures would have to wait. Keeping on the good side of Barranza was a must for the present time.

"Si, Senor, this morning. We will wait here for one of my men to arrive and then we will take you to a hidden airfield deep in the jungle. From there you will fly to a private airstrip south of here and then on to your own country to an estate outside of Buenos Aires. You will be taken to your new villa from there. Everything is arranged."

Barranza visibly bristled.

"Why must we wait? If all is ready let us leave now."

"I have other business to attend to yet also. I am awaiting word on a small matter of a ransom demand. Nothing to concern yourself with. My men will deal with it."

A look of pure outrage and disbelief dropped over the banker's face. His neatly manicured hands flew through the air as he yelled at the mercenary.

"You have kidnapped someone while arranging my escape? What if the police had found you out? What if they are preparing to attack this hideout looking for this person as we speak? Are you out of your mind, Ortega! You would jeopardize my escape for a measly ransom payoff?"

"Relax, Senor! We had to get rid of him for your sake anyway, so why not make a profit first? Surely you can see the business sense in that?"

"Who is this person? Why must you get rid of him for me?"

Ortega grinned silently and turned back to the open door of the house.

"Leon, bring our little guest out here. I think he has earned a formal introduction before the Senor departs for home."

All eyes, including Weston and James' turned to the darkly shadowed doorway. A muffled shuffling sound could be heard as a deep voice cursed loudly and slap on bare flesh echoed in the small room. Soon Labrada filled the opening as he roughly drug a small figure stumbling over the threshold.

Ortega reached out and pulled the wild-haired creature to him. Spinning the slight body around, he settled his captive's back against his chest, laughing as he wrapped a restraining arm around the narrow waist. With his free hand he reached up and deftly brushed the riotous curls from the battered tear-stained face. Barranza looked at the surrounding men with stunned disbelief.

Ray Weston and Ethan James assumed the same expression. Weston recovered his voice first.

"Jesus, God! Holy SHIT! What the FUCK!"

Ethan slowly shook his head in awe.

"Dear God, Ellison's kid!"

"What the HELL is little bit doing in the middle of a Mexican jungle in a drug cartel hideout! Christ, that kid gets around. Where the hell is his 'Blessed Protector' now?"

Replacing his stunned expression with a determined one, Ethan cocked his head at his partner, never taking his eyes off of the young kidnap victim.

"Probably looking for him. What do you say we stand in for him, Ray, just until he gets here, huh?"

Weston saw the look of affection in the giant's expressive face as he stared at the young grad student. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Weston grinned.

"What the hell, Ethan. Wouldn't want Ellison to rip my heart out too. One of us has to survive to nurse the others back to health or to bury the bodies, partner. By the way, am I in your will?"

"No, but you will be if we pull this off."

Both men fell silent as Barranza recovered his ability to speak.

"HIM! The one from the cantina? He was supposed to be dead! You said you would take care of him! This is how you protect your leader's allies? I want him dead! NOW!"

Blair opened his good eye wide in terror and tried to struggle out of the big man's hold. Hands still painfully tied together in front of him his efforts were futile. Desperate to delay the inevitable and gain time for someone to rescue him, Blair cried out in a husky, dry voice.

"Don't listen to him, man! Don't do this! Diaz will pay the ransom! I know he will! Just wait! You'll see, man! He'll pay!"

Ortega grabbed a handful of Blair's hair and roughly yanked his head back onto his own chest.

"He is worth a hundred thousand American dollars. Why should we forfeit this prize? No one will find him. We are safe. The police aren't even looking for him. The officer on the case belongs to the cartel. They will find nothing to lead them here."

"I don't care! I want him DEAD! I will pay you the same amount as the ransom was for! Kill him now!"

"Cash, in addition to the fee for getting you out of the country?"

"Yes! Cash! I want no witnesses left to enable the authorities to trace my whereabouts! I do not want to have to run from my home again! Eliminate him!"

Ortega lightly shook the disheveled figure in his grasp, tilting the frightened face up to gaze into it. Taking in the swollen and bruised young face, the pleading expression and the trembling chin, he felt a momentary twinge of regret.

"Please, don't, man!"

"Sorry, pequeno. A good deal is hard to pass up. Your madre will weep for you."

Blair knew pleading was useless but couldn't stop himself. The last 2 days had been ones of extreme turmoil, shaking his faith and trust in the one person he had depended on his entire life and separating him from another whom protected and care for him without question. To realize he was going to die needlessly and alone, without the two people in the world who loved him even knowing where to find his body, overwhelmed him.

He began to struggle wildly, lashing out with his feet and striking back with his head and shoulders. Surprised at the sudden burst of rebellion from the drugged and battered youth, Ortega reflexively loosed his hold. Blair took advantage of the moment and broke free. Stumbling and nearly falling at the sudden loss of physical support, he recovered his balance and took off towards the jungle.

Seeing the only witness able to confirm his survival and escape from justice fleeing to freedom, Barranza impulsively ran after the young man himself. One of Ortega's men raised his automatic weapon only to hesitate at the sight of their benefactor and money source in the way of his clear shot. That hesitation cost him his life as shots rang out from the nearby jungle foliage.

Ortega, Labrada, and the two remaining mercenaries dove for cover as two camouflage dressed figures broke out of the shadows and pinned them down with automatic gun-fire.

Thinking the shots were from his paid help and unaware of the appearance of Weston and James, Barranza concentrated on pursuing Blair into the plant life. Chasing the smaller, quicker form deeper into the jungle for several moments,
Barranza was finally granted a break as Blair tripped over an exposed root and fell to his knees. Tackling the crouched figure to the jungle floor, Barranza knelt up and turned the gasping youth over on his back, a satisfied smile on his face at the sight of a bloody gash on the young man's forehead.

Barranza pulled back his fist to render his captive unconscious but faltered briefly as he watched Blair's expression change from one of wild panic to a look of subdued delight and sudden recognition. It was genuine enough to cause the man to look over his right shoulder. A huge fist landed solidly in Barranza's face. The man slowly toppled over to land in the dirt beside his intended victim.

Ethan James reached down and quickly pulled a panting Blair up and into his arms. Weston swiftly bound Barranza's hands behind him and gagged the banker. Ethan cut the tight cord around Blair's swollen and discolored hands then briefly slid a comforting palm over the battered face of the young man, wiping away fresh blood in the process. A soft smile touched the big man's lips as he recognized exhausted relief and a spark of pleasure in the boy's eyes.

Weston called a whispered greeting to their new companion.

"We have to quit meeting like this, little bit. We gotta talk about the neighborhoods you hang out in and the company you keep, kid."

Grimacing in pain, Blair could only nod his head and continue to gasp rapidly as circulation started to return to his mottled hands. Aware of they were still in danger of being found by Ortega and his men, he tried to contain his groans of agony.

Weston took Blair from Ethan's supporting arms and started dragging him deeper into the jungle as the giant effortlessly lifted Barranza's limp form into the air and over his shoulder. Both men readied their weapons in one hand and steadied their prizes with the other. Scanning the area rapidly for their pursuers, they plunged deeper into the surrounding greenery.

Weston, with Blair in tow, took the lead. Releasing the quivering arm briefly, he pulled a short-band radio from his side and raised it to his mouth.

"Red Dog 2 to Red Dog 1, come in Red 1!"

Seconds later, static filled the air as Daniel Burke's voice echoed in the small hand unit.

"Red Dog 1 acknowledges!"

"Subject obtained. Additional prize awarded. Dragons on our tail. Will attempt secondary coordinates."

Shots rang out close behind them kicking dirt and shredded plant leaves at their feet. Dodging rapidly to one side, Weston dropped the radio into his side pack and pulled the exhausted and stumbling grad student along with him.

Pausing to lay down a round of gunfire into the surrounding area once James ran past him, Weston covered the rear of the fleeing group, pushing Blair closer to the giant for protection. Tossing a small hand grenade into the area where the shots had originated from, Weston quickly followed his companions into the temporary safety of the jungle to escape the blast.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Reyes skidded to a halt beside the dead body of Barranza's driver. Jumping from the jeep, he glanced briefly at the dead man then cautiously drew his knife from his belt. Skirting the entrance to the hideout, Reyes peeked in a side window to check for occupants. Finding none, he raced through the doorway weapon ready.
An empty room greeted him silently.

Relaxing his stance marginally, the mercenary straightened and turned to inspect the room. All the automatic weapons were gone, as were the additional supplies of ammunition and their kidnapped young man but the vehicles were still here. His comrades must be pursuing the driver's attackers through the jungle or were being pursued themselves. Either way, Reyes was out of there.

Grabbing a pack filled with a small amount of drugs, Reyes raced towards the door. As he stepped over the threshold his face came in contact with a granite fist. Staggering back into the room, Reyes regained his balance and focused on his attacker. A broad shouldered muscular man with ice-cold pale blue eyes and a deadly expression blocked his path.

Not knowing whom the stranger was or even caring, Reyes took a tighter grip on his knife and threw himself at the intruder. Both men grappled for several moments and then rolled to the floor as the stranger kicked Reyes' legs out from under him. Reyes rolled with the fall and came up suddenly throwing a handful of dirt from the floor into the cold eyes. Momentarily blinded, the stranger staggered back giving the mercenary time to regain his feet. Kicking the stranger in the back of his knees, he felled the big man to kneeling on the floor.

Jim frantically scrubbed at his eyes as he tuned his other senses to the presence of his attacker. Hearing the man come up behind him, feeling the heat of his body approaching, Jim allowed Reyes to think he was still incapacitated. The odor of sweat, sex and urine was nearly overwhelming as an arm came around to circle his neck. The sentinel's arm shot up and back, anchoring a death grip in the Mexican's long hair. One swift pull and the surprised man arching over the sentinel's shoulder towards the floor.

In a last ditch moment of panic Reyes tried to plunge his knife into the man beneath him. Jim blocked the move, receiving a small gash on his upper arm. The odor of his own blood filled the room to mix with the faint scent of his guide's blood coming from the cot next to the fighting men. An unrestrained growl of rage erupted from the sentinel. Unable to check his instincts, Jim gave a rapid twist to Reyes' neck as the foul-smelling mercenary descended towards the hard-packed floor.

Slowly rising up to stand silent and steady, Jim barely glanced at the body at his feet, secure in the knowledge that the threat was neutralized by the absence of a heartbeat.

Simon entered the building to catch the final moments of the fight. Staring down at the dead man, he flashed back on the frightened face of the young boy Reyes had bought for the night. He pulled his lips into a hard line of disgust. He couldn't bring himself to regret this one nor could he find the conviction to chastise his detective about it, not that the younger man was listening at the moment anyway.

Jim was standing next to a rumpled cot, running his fingers lightly over the stained pillowcase. Simon stepped forward and touched his arm.

"Blair was lying here. He's hurt but not badly, not that much blood in the air."

"What do you think happened here?"

"Can't really say, Simon. Vehicles are here but no people. One, make that two, dead bodies. Automatic weapons fired from the few casings I saw out there. It looks like three maybe four other were here besides Blair. Let's look outside and check the perimeter."

Leading the way, Jim focused on the bullet-damaged foliage and sighted the trail left by trampling feet. Advancing farther into the jungle for several minutes he slowly knelt and touched a darkened area on the ground. Raising his moist fingertips to his face he inhaled deeply. Confusion, then sudden recognition registered in his stony expression. Rage warred with relief in the pale eyes.

Simon watched with a growing sense of awe.

"What is it, Jim? What do you smell?"

Jim's hand began to rub heavily over the tie at his wrist, trying to calm his rage and focus his senses.

"The blood is Blair's. His scent is here, mixed with three others. One I don't recognize two I do. Heavy garlic and certain spices--used in Philippine food. Sharp, strong European cigarettes---expensive, light but still there."

"What's that mean? Who are they? What happened here?"

Jim stared off into the jungle shadows. Clenching his jaw in a conscious attempt to remain in control of his anger and frustration.

"Weston and James, Burke's men. Black ops are involved with this somehow. Weston and James have Blair now. Why they would get involved with a kidnapping I don't know but it looks like they did. The kidnappers followed them deeper into the jungle."

Abruptly the sentinel cocked his head and signaled the older man to start talking. Simon began a one sided monologue as Jim silently slipped into the shadows, gun readied. Simon stood his ground and kept up the stream of words directed at the missing man.

He spun around at the sound of a soft voice at his back.

"You're a long way from Cascade, Captain Banks. Make a wrong turn at the airport?"

Daniel Burke gazed serenely at the tall black man. Jackson Burr stepped out of the bush and nodded slightly at the police captain in acknowledgement. Simon stared back.

"What's going on here Burke? What has covert ops got to do with this kidnapping?"

Burke glanced questioningly at Jackson then gave Simon a genuinely surprised look.

"Kidnapping? We aren't involved in any kidnapping. We're doing surveillance. Who was kidnapped? Just why are you in Mexico, Captain?"

Before Simon could answer, a dark figure silently detached itself from the shadows and slid forward with amazing speed. Before either Burr or Burke could react, a strong arm wrapped itself around Burke's neck and a knife blade pressed harshly against his left carotid artery. Pulling Burke back roughly so that he could also watch Burr, a primal sentinel hissed softly in Daniel's ear.

"Your men have taken what is mine again, Burke. That blood on the ground is Blair's. Maybe if I add yours to it that will block the scent of my child's distress and pain."

Simon slid cautiously to the deadly sentinel's side signaling Burr to remain still.

"Jim! Jim, listen to me! They didn't have anything to do with Blair's being kidnapped this time! JIM! If you kill them we'll never find out what's happening."

The grip on Burke never lessened. A thin stream of blood ran unchecked down the restrained throat, teasing the sentinel's sense of smell, pulling a faint feral growl from his chest.

Burr shifted nervously, amazement and confusion written on both his and Burke's faces.

Simon felt he was rapidly losing the battle.

"JIM! We're wasting time! We need to find Blair! These men can help us! JIM! WE NEED TO FIND BLAIR!"

The sentinel slowly blinked his eyes. The need to eliminate a known enemy found in his hunting path receded as the imperative to find his injured guide took instinctive precedence. Pushing the large man from his body, Jim lowered the knife and glared at both the intruders. Simon touched the tie at Jim's wrist and softly began whispering, urgently hoping to reach his best friend buried in this deadly warrior.

"Come on Jim, focus on me a minute. Ground yourself. Touch the tie, think of Blair's voice. Hear Blair's voice in your head. Pull it together, man! The kid needs you. I need you, here, now, with me. We have to find him and I need you to do it!"

Jackson Burr checked the tiny pinpoint puncture on his friend's neck and dabbed at it with a cloth from his side pack. Burke locked questioning gazes with Burr and both watched as the man before them subtly changed from jungle warrior to Cascade detective.

Reaching out Jim wrapped his entire right hand around his left wrist and held on tightly. Taking a deep breath he nodded sharply at his friend then turned his attention to Burke and Burr. Taking a threatening step towards the two Jim stopped short two feet away. To his credit, Burke never flinched.

"What are you doing here? Why were covert ops staking out a kidnapper's hideout? Where have your men taken Blair and why?"

Burke's lip curled in a sarcastic half smile.

"Apology accepted, Detective. We're thrilled to see you too."

"Cut the crap, Burke, Blair's life is at stake here."

"Everybody's life is at stake here. This is a dangerous game, more so then you are obviously aware of."

Stony silence answered him.

Sharing a quick glance of agreement with Burr, Burke sighed in defeat and rubbed his neck.

"This is one of the safe houses of the Juarez drug cartel. A man named Alfonso Ortega, along with two other men, Jesus Reyes and Leon Labrada, are mercenaries employed by the cartel. They are making arrangements to spirit Manual Barranza out of the country. We were keeping the place under surveillance waiting for Barranza to show so we could bring him back to the states."

Simon furrowed his brow in thought and fought to remember the significance of the name.

"You mean Manuel Barranza, the Venezuelan bank manager who escaped during the FBI raid last month?"

"The very same."

"You can't kidnap a man from a foreign country and forcibly return him to the states! That illegal!"

Three silent, stony stares greeted Simon's outraged statement. Shaking his head and sighing the tall man muttered to himself.

"I don't want to go there. I don't need to think about this right now. One crisis of faith at a time."

Burr finally spoke up, questioning the still silent detective.

"What happened to the kid? Why is he here, of all places?"

Jim stared at the bald man for a moment then relented at the look of genuine concern on the black man's face.

"He was here with his mother, visiting a friend of hers for his birthday. He took a trip into town and ended up kidnapped. His companion from the estate was found unconscious in an alley. He's still not awake. We haven't been able to work out the details yet as to what exactly happened but a ransom demand was sent to the estate last night. We tailed the messenger back here. All we found was an empty building, a dead body and a lot of spent casings."

"What happened to the messenger? Did he give you any information?"

"He wouldn't talk to me. His body's inside."

Burke narrowed his eyes and appraised the man in front of him. This Ellison was even more dangerous than the one he had known in the black ops, much deadlier. Raw barely controlled power seemed to emanate from him now.

"He's dead?"

Jim stared off into the jungle as he flatly replied.

"Tripped and broke his neck. It was sad."

Focusing his hearing on the surrounding jungle, the faint sound of at least eight heartbeats registered on the sentinel. One very distant heartbeat caused his own heart to soar.

Simon watched as Jim stripped off his black T-shirt and deftly cut of both sleeves with his Bowie knife. He slipped the resulting tank top back on over taut muscles. Methodically he folded one sleeve down over itself several times until a 2-inch band was left. Stretching the soft cotton slightly he pulled it over his head until it rested just above his eyebrows, encircling his brow. An absorbent sweatband was the end result. Repeating the process with the second sleeve he wordlessly handed it off to Simon who gratefully accepted the makeshift gift.

Dropping to the jungle floor, Jim grabbed a handful of dirt. Sifting out the plant life and bugs, he spit into the soil. Grinding the mixture with his palm, he dipped his index finger into the paste and began to paint the exposed skin on his arms and face with long and short lines.

Simon stared at the almost ritualistic manner the sentinel used to complete the task. He started with surprise as the jungle warrior reached out and snagged his glasses and rapidly dulled the gold frames with the mixture. He gently returned them to their proper place leaving a nonplused friend staring at him.

"The gold catches and reflexes the light. They'll give our position away."

Simon muttered a surprised grunt.

"Oh. Okay."

Pointing off to the right, Jim stared hard into the shadows of the jungle.

"They're about an hour ahead of us. Four men are close behind them but not too close yet. If we cut through here we can save some time."

The painted sentinel turned to the covert ops soldiers. Their speculation and disbelief about what they were witnessing warred with their reason and the need to start tracking down their companions' whereabouts. Jim's voice was pitched soft and low, it sounded raw and unused.

"What's their destination?"

Burke narrowed his eyes as Jackson just continued to stare at the painted man before them. Tearing his concentration away from Jim, Jackson began to walk the perimeter of the small clearing looking for their missing members' trail.

"We have a secondary rendezvous site to the east. Weston said they would try to make it there. Transmission was cut off prematurely. He said they had obtained Barranza, unexpectedly I imagine, that they had a bonus prize, your kid I'm guessing and were being pursued into the jungle. Haven't heard from them since. I imagine they're busy. That's all we know. We came straight here to try and figure things out and pick up their trail."

Jim shifted the pack on his back marginally and after a brief glance at Simon, stepped into the jungle. Jackson turned and called out to them, pointing to a direction 20 degree off the course they had chosen.

"The trail leads this direction!"

The painted warrior turned pale blue eyes nearly black from dilatation on the large black man. Jackson watched as the eyes instantly turned to ice blue again as they focused on his face. A chill ran down his back despite the oppressive heat.

"Blair is this way."

The simple declaration hung in the air around the two soldiers as both warrior and best friend disappeared silently into the foliage. Raising both his eyebrows in a questioning gesture, Jackson Burr followed the Cascade detectives at a hesitant nod from his leader.

Daniel Burke took up the rear position. He mentally began to review everything he knew about James Ellison as he instinctively searched his surroundings for signs of danger.

One hour later, Jim suddenly stopped and crouched down to the jungle floor. Simon came to rest close beside him, hand resting lightly on a sweat-soaked back, anxiously watching his friend grip the worn tie on his wrist. Burke and Burr settled silently down beside them

The sentinel remained statue still, head down and cocked to one side to listen, for so long Simon feared a zone out. Just as the two soldiers beside them began to shift impatiently, Jim raised his head and stood. Without turning he softly breathed one word before sliding soundlessly into the shadows before them.

"Blair."

Jim had always been over-protective of the young grad student but this was something different, something raw and unstoppable. Jim cocked his head at unheard sounds and snapped his body around to stare at unseen dangers. He was constantly evaluating their surroundings and monitoring every living creature within the boundaries of his expanding senses. Constantly searching for his guide. His eyes took on a cold fathomless stare and he stopped all verbal communication. Instructions were given with sharp abbreviated hand signals. This was the first he had spoken since they entered the deep jungle.

Jackson Burr whispered to Burke, worry beginning to color his words.

"Are you sure we should be following him? This isn't the way to the rendezvous point, Daniel."

Burke watched as the jungle swallowed the two men in front of him.

"Ellison always was a fabulous tracker. I told you before he had amazing hearing. I just didn't realize how amazing. We stay with them."

"Have you been watching this guy? He's not all there, Daniel."

A pensive expression dropped over Burke's face as he flashed on old rumors told about Ellison after his return from Peru and the reasons surrounding his subsequent discharge.

"Actually, Jackson, I think he just might be TOO 'all there'."

With that cryptic statement, Burke rose and followed the others. Burr shook his head in confusion then plunged into the jungle after his friend.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blair huddled closer to Ethan James' side. Crouched low under a spray of plant life, the oppressive heat and the mounting tension were beginning to take their toll on the injured young man. Still trying manfully to stifle groans of pain resulting from circulation returning to his swollen and partially discolored hands, Blair slowly rocked in place biting down hard on his lower lip as he clutched his hands to his chest.

Ethan reached out and pulled the restless young man tightly against his side with his free hand. His other hand held his automatic weapon at the ready as he scanned the surrounding area looking for signs of his absent colleague. At his feet lay the bound and gagged form of Barranza black eyes staring contemptuously back at him from the banker's bruised face.

Ethan placed a large finger gently on Blair's captured lower lip and shook his head. A small sob escaped as the boy released his lip and was immediately muffled in the sweaty folds of James' shirt. Blair buried his face deeper into the muscles of the solid chest and let out a low, barely audible groan of pent up misery.

Several deep breaths later he shyly pushed away from the giant, allowing the massive hand to slid from the back of his head to his shoulder. Looking up at the concerned face of the soldier he nodded and tried a small smile of gratitude.

Ray Weston picked that moment to break through the bush on their right and join them.

"We've got trouble, Ethan. Six more men just joined the four already on our trail. The radio won't work. Something's blocking the signal."

James' nodded and started to drag Barranza to his feet.

"Then we've got to make it to the rendezvous point before they find us. Ten armed men against two with a prisoner and an injured boy aren't my kind of odds. You help little bit and I'll get the prisoner. Let's go. We don't have much time."

Each man gripped the arm of one of their civilian companions and set off at a rapid pace through the jungle.

Forty-five minutes later, two tired covert ops soldiers and two very exhausted civilians collapsed at the base of a small cliff face on one of several foothills jutting up out of the dense foliage. Staring up at the cliff, James pointed at a small dark opening fifty feet up the cliff face.

"There it is. I'll go up first and make sure it's still secure. I'll drop a line to you and you can secure Blair to it and I'll pull him up, then Barranza."

"Got it. Go."

Weston surveyed the area and split his attention between watching for attackers and keeping an eye on their prisoner, sparing an occasional glance up to watch the agile giant swiftly scale the cliff face with his bare hands.

Within minutes a nylon rope dangled at his side. Weston fashioned a makeshift harness and secured the silent but trembling young grad student to the rope. His slight form disappeared quickly into the mouth of the cave above them. He repeated the process with Barranza then rapidly joined his partner in the cliffside hideout.

Dropping a black drape across the cave opening, Ethan lit a lantern and placed it on top of a box of supplies piled in one corner of the cave. Blankets, first aid supplies, food rations, water and a few articles of clothing were present in the pre-prepared hideout.

The huge man opened a container to his right and was rewarded with bottles of water. Pulling out a bottle, he passed it unopened to Blair who promptly dropped it. Catching the container before it hit the hard packed floor, Ethan uncapped it and held it to the young man's lips. Blair gulped at the cool liquid until the older man gently removed it from his reach.

"Slow down, little man. You'll make yourself sick. There's plenty here."

James tossed another bottle to Weston as the smaller man shoved Barranza into a back corner of the cave and forced the man to sit on the floor. After checking that the prisoner's gag and wrist ropes remained secure he helped himself to several deep swallows before loosening the gag and allowing the banker to drink. Immediately returning the gag, he tied Barranza's ankles together and secured them to the prisoner's wrists behind his back. Next he took up sentry duty at the mouth of the cave.

Ethan reached out and gently dragged Blair over to sit on a supply box. Tenderly raising each abraded and swollen hand he checked the extent of the damage caused by the too tight ropes left on for too long. Everything from the wrist up was nearly twice its usual size and the last third of each digit was mottled purple-blue in color. Deep, raw grooves of angry red flesh encircled each wrist, which were encrusted with dried blood.

"Can you move them?"

Blair slowly wiggled his fingers slightly, grimacing at the fresh pain the action caused. His voice came out as a harsh whisper.

"A little. But I can't really feel anything but the pain. They tingle a lot. I can't hold on to things yet but they're better than they were an hour ago. They just hurt a lot."

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as Ethan gently washed his wrists with soap and water and wrapped them with an antibiotic coated dressing. Moving on to the bruised cheek and swollen eye, the giant carefully pried open the swollen eyelid and had Blair check his vision. Satisfied there was no gross damage to the eye itself, he finished cleaning away the dirt and sweat from the young face. Finally, he placed a butterfly dressing over the cut beneath his eye.

He offered the water bottle to Blair again then pulled several blankets from the supplies. Creating a small nest to one side of the crates he pulled Blair down onto them and pushed the riotous curls to the ground.

"Sleep. We may not have much time to rest. Take advantage of it now. Once Daniel and Jackson reach us, we leave again. Sleep little one."

Uncharacteristically quiet, the young man obediently closed his eyes. Resting his wrapped wrists light on his stomach he turned his face to the dark. Surprising both himself and his companions, he drifted swiftly off into a restless sleep.

Glancing briefly at their seated prisoner, James joined Weston at the cave opening.

"Anything?"

"No. They should have passed this way by now. Maybe they lost the trail. It got pretty heavy there for awhile, it might have cut us a small break. I think we're good for the time being. How's the kid? Seemed pretty quiet, even after we got up here."

"I think he's a little overwhelmed by everything. Kidnapped, threatened to be murdered, shot at, victimized, dragged through the jungle, tired, hungry, injured and probably more then a little confused by us being here, he's having some trouble coping I think. Maybe some sleep will help. We can't worry too much about it right now. There'll be plenty of time to sort it out for him went we get someplace safe. Have you tried the radio again?"

"Yeah, nothing works, just static."

"Doesn't matter. Daniel knows were to find us. It shouldn't be too long."

Weston answered with a silent nod never taking his binoculars from his eyes. James grunted softly as he stood and walked back to lie down beside the sleeping figure on the floor. Positioning himself on his side facing the cave opening, his body protectively blocked Blair from view. Ethan cradled his gun securely in his arms and started fading quickly into a light sleep. A muffled gasp startled him before sleep could claim him completely.

Turning over to face the shuddering body behind him, he placed a warm hand on the thin, quaking shoulder. Getting no response, the giant reached out and forcibly pulled the small form to his side. Propping Blair's head on his massive shoulder and gently cradling the injured arms between their bodies, the big man silently rubbed soothing circles down the young man's back. This familiar act of comfort brought on a fresh trail of tears. Ethan stared at the black rock ceiling and waited for the storm to subside. A hesitant whisper softly reached his ear.

"I-I wish Jim w-was h-here."

Ethan wordlessly tightened his arm and continued rubbing until a final heavy sigh puffed against his chest and a limp weight rested on his side. Brushing filthy curls back from a tearstained face the soldier finally closed his eyes and faded off to find his own restless sleep.

One hour later, Ethan eyes popped open, instantly wide-awake. He rose silently, gently lifting the still sleeping form off his chest. He spread a second blanket over the exhausted young man, noting the increasing coolness of the cave's interior.
After a quick check on the now sleeping prisoner, he relieved Weston at the mouth of the cave.

Ray grabbed a blanket and settled down in the spot vacated by James. Sparing a long moment to study the bruised young face beside him, he wondered why this quirky little anthropologist was once again in the middle of one of their operations.

"Damn kid needs put on a short leash. Gotta talk to Ellison next time I see him."

Rolling over after pulling the edge of the blanket up under Blair's chin and tucking it in, he fell into a light doze.

Blair blinked the sleep from his puffy eyes and rolled onto his back. Slowly orienting himself to his new lodgings, his memory came flooding back. Rising awkwardly off the hard floor of the cave, he realized the need to address the call of nature. Glancing at his numb and still useless hands, he contemplated his predicament.

Ethan turned from his post at the mouth of the cave at the sound of Blair pushing off his blankets and standing. Sensing what the young man's first need might be on awakening, he grinned and pointed to the back of the cave.

"There's an alcove back there to the left. Use the corner with the bucket of sand by it. Be sure to throw a handful in the corner when you're done. Listen to me. Don't go off exploring. Some of these caves have drop-offs in them. Do your business and come right back, okay?"

"Ah, yeah, sure. Thanks, man. Ah, Ethan, right?"

"Yes. You remembered."

Ducking his head with embarrassment, he scuffed his shoe at the loose rocks by his feet.

"That whole thing was a little hard for me to forget."

Understanding the trauma they had put the young man through months ago when the covert ops group had kidnapped him to ensure Ellison's cooperation in a secret operation, he smiled gently at the flushed young man.

"I can understand that. Go take care of things and when you come back we'll talk some if you'd like to."

"Yeah, man. Okay. Um, I, I have a little problem with my hands here. Could you maybe---?"

Ethan pushed down the urge to laugh and reached out to deftly open the snap and zipper of Blair's pants. Holding them pressed tightly against his slender hips, the mortified grad student picked up a lantern and hurried to find the makeshift bathroom.

Finally relieving the pressure of his full bladder, Blair sighed and fumbled with his clothing. Unable to fasten them he still tugged them closed as best he could. After following Ethan's instructions with the sand, he lifted the lantern and looked around at the walls of the ancient cave.

Noticing red streaks of a dull substance running through the walls, he absently traced the path of one of the larger deposits, oblivious to the fact that he was travelling farther and farther into cave.

Tracing the metal deposit lightly with his fingertips, he marveled at the stark contrast of the bright red against the black of the cave rock. Small amounts of moisture clung to his fingertips, as did the red colored dust. Longing for his best friend and protector, Blair idly wondered what richness of colors Jim would be seeing if he were here beside him.

As his left hand slid over a small ledge brightly covered with the deposit, he suddenly froze as something smooth moved beneath his hand. As he started to pull back his hand in panic a flat-topped triangular black head appeared inches from his fingers. Black hypnotic eyes located on the sides of the snake's head stared unwaveringly back at him. As the snake rose higher to meet him, Blair could see the brightly colored jagged bands around its four-foot long body and the distinct yellow tip of it's tail. No stranger to Mexican jungle wildlife, he recognized it as a highly toxic, fatally poisonous Mexican moccasin, know to inhabit rock caves and old tree stumps.

Blair froze in place not daring to move or call out. Sweating despite the chill air of the cave, he blinked rapidly as the perspiration ran unchecked into his eyes. Several minutes passed and Blair began to tremble from the stress of trying to hold perfectly still. His hand wavered and the deadly moccasin reared back to strike, mouth gaping and fangs extended. The young man flinched and slammed his eyes closed, grimacing at the expected pain of the bite. A soft whoosh and thud caused his eyes to pop open.

Pinned to the bedrock of the cave wall hung the attacking viper, a seven-inch throwing knife protruding from just under it's open jaw. Blair gasped in a much-needed breath of relief and turned to thank his guardian angel. Instead he found himself looking into a face that was set with the wrath of God.

Craning back his head he stared apprehensively up into the much too close chest of Ethan James. Tilting back even farther, he found a set of stormy eyes locked on his. The big man's jaw jumped with barely restrained fury and his color had become a definite shade of red. Unable to look away, Blair swallowed hard and tried to regain his ability to speak. Unfortunately, dread and a sudden sense of foreboding prevented rational speech from forming in his head let alone on his tongue.

He was wordlessly propelled up off the ground and found himself dangling over a rock hard shoulder. Having the air knocked slightly out of him by the force in which he landed on Ethan's shoulder, Blair gasped silently in surprise as he was transported back through the cave. Halfway back they abruptly stopped. Groping ineffectively at his loose pants he stiffen in embarrassment as they were swiftly pulled down to his knees.

Finding an outcropping of rock at just the right height, Ethan propped his left foot upon it and effortlessly draped the dazed young explorer over his thigh. Blair was once again left breathless and silent by the sudden maneuver. A thunderous smack landed on his unprotected backside driving out what little air he had left in his lungs.

SMACK!!!!!

"I told you NOT to go exploring!"

SMACK!!!!!

"I told you to come RIGHT back!"

SMACK!!!!!

"I told you those things to keep you SAFE!"

SMACK!!!!!

"I expect you to LISTEN to me from NOW ON!"

SMACK!!!!!!!!

All five blows were heavy and hard but the final one carried the full force of the huge man's strength behind it. James knew there would be bruises left behind but he didn't intend to have this conversation a second time. The boy's life depended on him listening and doing what he was told until they reached an area of safety.

After realizing Blair had been gone too long to account for just a full bladder, James had been compelled to search for the wayward youth. Unable to find him in the appropriate alcove he had searched the alternate tunnel. He still felt the finger of dread that had gripped his insides as he spied the poisonous viper inches from the small shaking hand.

Lifting the harshly gasping form from his thigh, Ethan settled Blair's feet on the ground. Pulling the khakis back up to Blair's waist, he quickly snapped and zipped them. As he started to drop his hands away from the narrow waist, Blair stumbled and landed hard against the older man's side.

What felt like a tree trunk encircled his body providing support and a massive hand brushed his hair from his face as it tilted his chin up. Blair caught the look of caring and concern on the stern face of his savior. Still dazed by the rapid and unexpected events, he continued to gasp for air as his stunned diaphragm tried to recover.

Suddenly the pain and burning from the spanking registered. Tears accompanied the shallow gasps making breathing all the more strained. Shudders began to rack the small body and Blair's knees gave way to the numbness of hyperventilation.

Scooping the distressed young man into his arms, James carried him back to the blankets at the front of the cave. Seating himself down on the floor, back against the crates and legs folded Indian style Ethan cradled the slight body in his arms, drawing him close to his chest leaving the bruised and aching butt untouched by any surface.

As Blair's ability to take a deep breath improved, his ability to control his emotions deteriorated. Shivers joined the tearful shudders and painful sobs were only slightly muffled by the massive chest his face was firmly pressed into.

All the traumas of the last 24 hours caught up to the usually resilient young adventurer. Puffy hands with bandaged wrists slowly eased out from between the two bodies to wrap themselves around the solid neck above them. One massive hand slowly began to draw comforting strokes up and down the heaving back as the other hand drew their bodies closer together. Wordlessly they remained like that for a long time.

Weston sat quietly watching the scene before him. He had heard the heavy smacks and had easily interpreted their meaning but was at a loss as to why his partner had punished their young guest. Rising from his seat, he wandered back through the off-limits portion of the cave. Recognizing Ethan's knife imbedded in the cave wall with its poisonous prize still attached he instantly understood his friend's actions. Once again little bit had endangered his life needlessly.

Shaking his head at the impetuousness of youth, Weston carefully removed the knife from both the wall and the dead viper. He returned to the front of the cave carefully cleaning the knife as he walked. Setting the knife down behind Ethan on the crates he resumed his post at the opening.

James gently pried the clinging young man from around his neck. Blair's sobs had died down to an occasional hitched breath and the convulsive shuddering had turned into fine occasional shivers. James brushed back the stray curls blocking the puffy face and gently forced Blair to look him in the eye.

"I want to tell you a story. I want you to listen to me."

Blair nodded and self-consciously slid off the wide firm lap to land on his knees beside the giant. Wiping hastily at his streaked face and swollen eyes, he leaned against a crate unwilling to rest his throbbing buttocks on the rock floor.

"I'm listening."

The mountain beside him drew in a deep breath and stared off into the distance for a moment before focusing on his one-man audience.

"Several years ago, there was a fifth man on our team. A young guy named Wilson Manning. Little guy that talked a lot and had a real feel for life. Will enjoyed doing just about anything. He was good at just about anything too. So good he was kind of cocky and real sure of himself. He fit right in with the team and we all liked him. We grew to think of him like a little brother. He worked with us for two years. We all do dangerous things but his life was in jeopardy more often than anyone else's was. His specialty was explosives but that isn't why he was in danger more often. It was because he would get feeling sure of himself and cocky and then he forgot to listen. Daniel reprimanded him a dozen times for simply not listening when the mood struck him. It was always over little things or Daniel would have kicked his skinny ass out straight away. We all chalked it up to his youth and thought it would get better in time."

Ethan paused to be sure he still had his audience's attention. Chucking a gentle fist up under Blair's chin he stared into the dark blue eyes full of curiosity and life.

"One day he and I were out on a routine perimeter check surrounding an area the team was camped at for a mission in Southeast Asia. We unexpectedly ran into a small enemy patrol. We dropped back in time and let them pass, never giving away our position. But this patrol had two young girls with them as prisoners."

"What happened?"

Another deep breath and Ethan finished his story.

"I signaled for Will to return to base and notify the team that patrols were hitting close and to be ready. I was going to work my way around them and check for any others. In this particular region they tended to patrol in patterned groupings. I worked my way into the jungle and Will slipped off to camp. At least I thought he went to camp. Instead, I guess the young fool decided he could take the three soldiers and free the girls on his own while I searched for their buddies. When I returned to camp hours later I found out that he never returned. We searched the area and found what was left of him staked to the ground. We had to ID him by his tags."

Ethan swallowed heavily and briefly closed his eyes.

Blair reached out and touched the big man's arm.

"I guess I can kind of see were you're coming from, man. That must have been worth a lifetime of nightmares. It's-- it's kind of cool that you worry about me that way, too. I understand the message. But I'm not sure how many 'Blessed Protectors' I can handle, man."

Ray looked over from his perch by the concealing black drape and watched his gentle giant of a partner compose himself with some difficulty. He pulled Blair's attention to himself for a moment.

"We had to scrap the whole mission. They knew we were there. If the damn little idiot had just LISTENED he'd still be alive. Little bastard!"

Ethan's deep soft voice rang out in the silence that followed the curse.

"Spencer, enough! That doesn't help."

Blair raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly at the weapons expert at the mouth of the cave.

"Spencer? Who's Spencer? I thought your name was Ray."

Quirking a half-smile at the kneeling young man, Weston nodded.

"It's both. My real name is Spencer Weston but ever since I could stand up on my own I've had a thing about guns. When I was four or five I used to run around the house with a plastic toy ray gun. I even slept with it. I carried it everywhere until people started calling me 'ray gun'. Eventually it got shortened to Ray. Now, only family call me Spencer."

"Ethan just did."

Weston gave Blair and James a big smile.

"That's what I said, little bit. Only family."

Blair watched as Ethan threw Weston a knowing grin, slowly letting go of the remembered pain of a needlessly lost young life. Patting the nest of blankets again, Ethan pressed his young friend towards them.

"We'll eat something then I want you to get some more rest while you can. We have a ways to go yet."

Blair opened his mouth to protest but quickly snapped it shut and nodded. He watched as the big man opened several containers of rations and warmed them over a sterno flame. He handed one first to Weston who wandered over to their trussed up prisoner to feed him.

"You guys never did tell me what you're doing here in the first place. How did you end up where I was being held prisoner? You're the last people I expected to see."

Ethan looked up from his cooking duties.

"You looked pretty happy to see me at the time."

"Well, If I got to choose between my present kidnappers and my former kidnappers, I choose you guys. At least you weren't going to kill me."

Weston and James exchanged uncomfortable frowns and turned their faces away from the naïve youth. Losing his young life had indeed been a real possibility when Blair had been their captive several months ago. Fortunately for the young grad student a mutually beneficial resolution had been arrived at by the parties involved and the young man was returned to his home.

Ethan helped Blair with his meal as he explained their mission to obtain the escaped banker and supply his forced return to the proper interested authorities.

"But isn't that like illegal? Can you really do that?"

Weston stepped over to the crate to retrieve his own meal. Sitting down beside Blair he tapped him on the head and spoke softly.

"Was kidnapping you legal or 'right'?"

"No! Oh course not!"

"Daniel tried to explain it to you last time. Sometimes wrong things are done for the right reasons. Sometimes the end justifies the means. Ethan, Daniel, Jackson and me, we're all soldiers with a job to do. That job is to follow orders. That's what we do. We save lives, little bit, and sometimes we save entire countries. We don't have to like it. We just have to do our job the best that we can and hope for the best possible outcome. Like with what happened with you a couple of months ago. A win-win outcome and nobody died."

"You don't have to do the wrong thing, man. You don't have to participate in illegal operations. You can quit. The power is in your hands, man. Jim quit. He knew it was wrong."

Ethan's voiced hardened slightly.

"Ellison quit for a lot of reasons but while he was in he was one of the best. He understands what has to be done."

"He's not like that anymore. Jim does what's right. He always protects the innocent and does his best to make sure the criminal gets caught. He isn't one of you anymore."

Turning his back on the two soldiers, Blair gingerly curled up on his side in the bed of rough blankets and determinedly ignored the soft conversation behind him. Soon exhaustion over took his anger and sleep pulled him down once more.
A soft whoosh of air blew unnoticed past his ear as a blanket was settled gently over his small frame.

Dreams over took his sleep moments before he was to awaken.

He saw himself standing at the jungle's edge peering anxiously into the bush. Suddenly a huge black panther leapt from the foliage before him and forcefully tackled him to the ground. Pinning his slight frame to the hard packed earth with its sheer size and bulk the panther opened its mouth and seized his right shoulder between its jaws. After giving the young man a firm and a none-too-gentle reprimanding shake, the jungle cat proceeded to nuzzle the slender neck and face. Licking gently over the bruised and abraded face, the animal tilted its pale blue eyes down to stare into Blair's shining dark ones.

Blair jerked awake. Absently rubbing his aching right shoulder, he propped himself up on his elbow. Sleepily, he made an announcement to the other three occupants of the room.

"I think Jim's here."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Six more men have joined the first four. They're splitting up. Five are headed towards an illegal airstrip west of here and the other five are circling around to the north. I think they lost the trail. They're backtracking. If they can't find anything, they'll check out the foothills next."

Jim relayed the report to the other men without taking his eyes of the cliffs to their left.

"That will give us enough time to get them out of the cave and get to your pick-up point, Burke. Let's go."

Burke put a restraining hand to Jim's chest and shook his head.

"Wait just a damn minute! How do YOU know where they're going? How many of them there are? You can't possibly hear them or see them."

Jim looked down at the hand on his chest until Burke pulled it back. Wordlessly, the sentinel stared at the frustrated blond man, searching the soldier's eyes for something only he knew. Finally he answered.

"The same way I know Blair and your two men and their prisoner are holed up in a cave in the face of that cliff to the east."

Burke narrowed his eyes and ground out his next words through tightly clenched teeth.

"How, damn it! I'm not walking into an ambush here just because you say so!"

Jim rested his unrelenting gaze on Jackson Burr as he answered.

"Because I hear voices and I see things, Burke. Remember I'm 'not all there'! Or is it because I'm 'TOO all there'?"

Satisfied at the stunned expression on both men's faces, Jim pulled away and tugged a speechless Simon after him.

"Whoa, Daniel! How did he hear us? I knew Ellison had a reputation as cold but this guy is something ELSE!"

Burke's reply was strangely thoughtful.

"Yeah, he is, isn't he."

"Don't tell me you believe him! Come on!"

"How DID he know what we said back there? He was fifty feet away and moving deeper into the jungle. How did he know where the rendezvous point in the cliffs was? And the airstrip? We knew it was there but he couldn't have. How did he track his kid all the way through this jungle without a clue where he was and still windup at the right spot? Yeah, Jackson, I think I believe him."

"WHAT?"

"I also think he hears things and sees things and even smells things we don't. Notice how his best friend and captain didn't say a word, never asked a question this whole time and followed wherever the man lead. He knows to trust him, I think we should too."

"I think you're BOTH nuts!"

"Come on! You're getting old. Have a little faith."

"In a man who 'hears things and sees things'? That's asking a lot, Daniel."

"Maybe but in this case he's been right on the money so far. My paycheck's on him. Even if he isn't 'all there'."

Shaking his head in wonder, Burr picked up his weapon and stood.

"I just don't know, but hey, you're the boss man."

"And as the boss man, I say let's get the hell out of here and catch up to our jungle warrior and his loyal side-kick."

Taking off into the underbrush, Burr nodded.

"Watch it, Daniel. He'll hear you."

Burke murmured quietly to himself.

"I just bet he did."

Twenty minutes later the four reached the bottom of the foothills. Pulling out his radio, Burke tried to raise his two men. Nothing but static answered his attempt.

Jim shook his head at the covert ops man.

"That won't work here. There are heavy iron ore deposits in these foothills. It's messing with the signal."

Burr gave the sentinel a disbelieving look.

"How do you know that?"

Jim ignored the man and stared at the mouth of the cave five hundred yards away. Simon broke the uneasy silence.

"We'll just have to find another way to let them know we're here."

The corner of Jim's mouth turned up in a small smile.

"That won't be necessary, Simon. They know we're here."

Burr pulled his binoculars to his face and watched a thin rope drop down the cliff face from a black hole fifty feet in the air. Reluctant respect colored his words.

"Damn! He's good!"

The three men followed after the already missing sentinel at a rapid pace. Jim was halfway up the rope before the others arrived at the base of the cliff. He disappeared from sight seconds later.

Jim entered the makeshift hideout and strode to the center of the room, never glancing at the two soldiers to his left. A softly whispered "Jim", reached his ears as a disheveled and dirty missile launched itself at his chest.

Jim bent down slightly and arms wound tightly around his neck as he literally lifted his lost young charge off the ground to hold him tightly to his chest. Burying his face in the curls against his shoulder, he inhaled deeply, reaffirming the presence of his guide, his best friend, this child of his heart.

Both sentinel and guide remained oblivious to the arrival of the other members of the team.

Jim smelled the salt of tears and clutched the matted and bloodstained curls closer to his body. Monitoring the heartbeat more essential to his life than his own, he murmured soothing words to calm the rapid beat.

"Sssh, Chief. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay now. We're going to get out of here. You're safe."

A choked sob and a tightening of the arms around his neck were the only answers he received. Still dangling in midair, Blair hung on for dear life. After several minutes, he pulled back slightly as Jim lowered him to the floor. Ignoring their curious audience he wrapped his arms around his protector's waist, not willing to give up the security of close physical contact just yet.

"I knew you were here, man. I had a dream. Cool paint job, man. Chopec tribal markings, way cool!"

Jim ruffled the riotous curls and cupped the wet cheeks of the young man with both hands. Staring into the wide trusting eyes he gently slid his fingertips over the still partially swollen eyelid and cheek. Fingering the small bandage over the cut, he smoothed it down at the edges.

Trailing his hands and his senses down the slender arms, he raised the injured wrists into view. Slowly, with infinitesimal care, he traced a fingertip over each puffy and discolored finger and section of skin on his child's hands. Satisfying himself that blood flowed freely to each area of flesh and there would be no permanent damage, he drew the small hands to his chest with one hand and cupped the bruised cheek with the other.

"Do you hurt anywhere else, Chief?"

Darting a nervous look at the silent giant behind him, Blair stuttered a little as he answered.

"J-just my b-butt but we can t-talk about that later, okay, big guy?"

Jim exchanged a hard look with James. Nodding slightly at the big man, he refocused on his young charge.

"Yes, we WILL talk about it later."

Relief flooded Blair's face.

"Yeah, man. Later is good. Much later is better."

A deep nasal voice broke into the conversation.

"Don't worry, kid. I'll remind him if he forgets."

A smile of delight and amazement lit up the young man's face. Throwing his arms around the tall figure behind Jim, Blair almost knocked the unprepared captain over.

"Simon! You came too!"

Disbelief edged the excited words.

"Oh course, I came! If I had to let Jim come down here a week early I was going to make damn sure he was doing some police work to justify it!"

Simon's gruff and ready growl fooled no one in the room. Gently pulling back the young man by the arms, he ran his gaze over the visible wounds and bandages concern shining in his overly moist eyes.

"You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm f-fine Simon. I'll be fine now."

Burke stepped forward and gestured at the crates behind them.

"I hate to break this up but the reunion will have to wait for later. There is water and food here. Eat something and then we're out of here. Ortega and his men will be far enough away by then for us to chance making a run for the pick up point. I'll try and reach our contact by radio now that we have everyone together. Then we head out as soon as possible."

Weston turned from his spot by the opening.

"Radio won't work. I've been trying for hours to raise you. All I get is static."

Blair turned his head from were it rested on Jim's chest his body tucked possessively under one thick, painted arm.

"Radios won't work anywhere near here. These foothills are full of iron ore. It interferes with the signal. That's what all the red and gray stripes in the wall back there are. The red ones are oxidized ore deposits. They're really beautiful. The people around here used to mine this area for a while until the deposits got too thin to make it worthwhile. That's good though, because they were really ripping up the jungle, destroying the plant and animal life. It was like so not cool. Governments have to be more sensitive to -----"

A large familiar hand captured his rapidly moving lips and gently muffled his running commentary on environmental issues.

"Not now, Chief."

Blair flushed red and murmured a soft "sorry", ducking his head back down onto the solid chest, calming himself as he listened to the reassuring heartbeat beneath his ear.

Weston snickered and glanced at Ethan meaningfully.

"I think little bit is feeling better. That's the most he's said since we found him."

Simon dropped his jaw in mock disbelief.

"You're kidding! Where the hell was I when all this peace and quiet was going on? Why do I always show up AFTER the energizer bunny has recharged his batteries?"

The men shared a chuckle and then fell to the business at hand. Food was heated and eaten, washed down with plenty of water. Weapons were checked, ammunition packed, and plans discussed. The prisoner was fed and taken to the makeshift bathroom. Burke decided to wait to try and raise their helicopter until they were closer to the pick up mark and farther away from the hills.

The four soldiers watched silently as the overly protective sentinel hovered near his charge. Helping Blair slip the torn, gaudy, tropical shirt off his slender form, the detective slowly scrutinized the skin beneath it, looking for hidden injuries. Blair silently tolerated the entire process, knowing he had little choice. His protector would not be content until he was sure there was no further harm done to his charge. Pulling a clean black T-shirt from his pack, Jim carefully slipped it over Blair's head and tugged it into place. Turning around to find several pairs of eyes watching them, Blair blushed slightly but maintained eye contact with the men.

"It's just something he has to do to convince himself that I'm okay."

He turned back to softly whisper to the older man who lightly stroked his untamed curls. Blair settled at Jim's side as the sentinel ate, making sure some type of physical contact was maintained. Simon joined them, sandwiching the young man protectively between them, providing further reassurance to the sentinel. Soon it was time to set out for the pick up site.

Jim, Burr and Weston repelled down the cliff wall first and checked the area for their pursuers. Jim silently tracked eight heartbeats off to the south creeping steadily closer to their position. He signaled Burke to hurry. Daniel complied without question this time.

Blair was lowered down quickly into strong waiting arms. Barranza, however, landed awkwardly on the hard jungle floor. Burke, Simon and James joined the bedraggled group on the ground.

Setting off at a fairly rapid pace, Jim and Weston took point as Burr and James fell into the rear guard position. Burke shoved Barranza along while Simon hovered over his young observer and friend.

Two miles away from the iron riddled foothills Jim suggested Burke try to raise his contact again while he slipped into the shadows to check on the pursuing drug mercenaries. Through a heavy burst of static a weak voice could be heard but not understood.

"Bluebird one, this is Red Dog. Do you read me? Over."

Static filled the air. Burke glanced up and caught the frightened look on the pale and battered face staring back at him. With a determined grimace he punched the radio controls again.

"Bluebird one, this is Red Dog. Do you copy? Over."

A faint murmur of a voice teased their hopes.

Jim reappeared and urgently called to the team.

"We've got about fifteen minutes before they find us. Did you raise your bird?"

Burke shook his head in frustration.

"No! We can't hear them. Something is there but I can't make it out."

"Try again!"

"It's no good! We're still too close to the foothills."

Jim stalked forward and stared at Burke.

"TRY AGAIN! Let me listen! We don't have time for this!"

Burke grunted in frustration and raised the radio to his mouth.

"Bluebird one, this Red Dog. Acknowledge! Over!"

The same grating static burst over the radio along with a faint trace of a human voice. Jim grimaced slightly at the sudden assault on his hearing but immediately recovered as a small hand landed on his sweat soaked back. The low soothing voice of his guide righted his senses and the radio's voice echoed clearly in his head, free of static and distortion. Realizing the voice at the other end could hear them without difficulty he grabbed the handset and acknowledged the message.

"Affirmative, Bluebird one. Confirm twelve minutes to ETA. Will provide visual assist for pick up. Red Dog over and out."

Jim pulled Blair to his side and glanced at Simon, refusing to acknowledge the stunned stares from the surrounding men. Turning into the jungle, he looked back at the motionless men.

"Let's go! Ortega will be here soon. We need to be in a defensive position at the pick up point. One of you will have to lead the way, Burke, we've got 12 minutes. Unless you think I can read minds too?"

Daniel snorted and took the lead.

"I WAS beginning to wonder. What did they say?"

"They could hear you just fine. Chopper is on its way. We need to send up a flare to give them a landing point. Let's move!"

Putting Blair between them again, Simon and Jim quickly followed Burke into the thinning vegetation. Thoughtful and silent, the remainder of the team exchanged bewildered glances as they and their prisoner trailed after the mysterious ex-ranger and friends.

Ten minutes later they arrived breathless but uninjured at a small clearing. Crouching low in the plant life edging the site, they waited tensely for signs of their only escape routine. Twelve minutes passed then fifteen. The surrounding sky remained silent and empty.

A nervous whisper trembled in the silence.

"Where are they, Jim?"

The father in him urged the ex-ranger to reach out and lightly touch the pale cheek of his child in a silent effort to comfort and reassure.

Suddenly Jim spun around pushing Blair behind him. Dropping to one knee he took aim at a silent stretch of foliage and fired repeatedly into the vegetation. His fellow comrades stared at the jungle, apparently empty of anything except plant life. Slowly, three bodies dropped forward from the trees. Ortega and his men had arrived.

More shots rang out from deep in the shadows. Their return fire peppered the vegetation and reduced it to shreds. Backing closer to the edge of the clearing, the four covert ops men, one ex-ranger and a police captain attempted to hold off the heavily armed mercenary force and provide protection for their two unarmed civilians.

Abruptly, Jim tugged on Simon's arm to get his attention.

"The flare gun, Simon. Fire it! The chopper is here!"

Burr frantically searched the empty sky.

"I don't see or hear anything! You'll give away our position!"

Simon continued to search through his pack, pulling out the gun and loading it. Ignoring Burr's outburst he fired the flare straight up into the air. Instantly, multiple rounds of bullets forced them lower into the bush.

Jim let loose his senses and pinpointed the closest enemy heartbeats. Breaking his cover and moving out to the clearing's edge, he targeted three more mercenaries. Firing rapidly at his unseen targets, he was rewarded with muffled cries of pain and silenced heartbeats.

Unseen by the occupied sentinel, Alfonso Ortega stepped out of the jungle cover and took aim at the painted man.

Above them the sound of an approaching helicopter could clearly be heard.

Peering out from the spot his Blessed Protector had pushed him into Blair panicked at the sight of Ortega aiming his gun at Jim. Unknown to the young guide, James also noticed Ortega and his intended target.

Blair burst from cover and threw himself bodily at the unaware sentinel. At the same time, Ethan fired off a round into the smirking mercenary. Ortega jerked convulsively as he went down, firing his weapon randomly. Gunfire from within the jungle tapered off at the sight of the approaching military chopper.

The thud of bullets hitting flesh thundered in the sentinel's ears as his body slammed down to the clearing floor, a dead weight pinned him momentarily in place. Flipping the unconscious body of his young guide gently to the ground, the sentinel ran a frantic search over the still form.

A shallow bullet crease marred Blair's left temple. Blood, warm and startlingly bright, flowed freely in a pulsing rhythm from the young man's left arm just above the elbow. Jim closed both hands over the wound. Ethan James landed in the dirt beside him as Burke, Burr and Simon surrounded them to provide cover.

A muttered "Damn fool kid!" escaped the furious police captain as he eyed the fast spreading pool of blood.

Never uttering a sound, both men worked feverishly over the wounded young man as the carrier helicopter landed in the center of the clearing. Ethan added his substantial strength to stop the bleeding as the former ranger and medic released his grip. Pulling the band from around his head, Jim slipped it up the bloodied arm to above the wound. He deftly placed an ammunition clip within the circle. Twirling the clip several times, he tightened the tourniquet until the blood slowed to a trickle. Tucking the clip under the edge of the band, Jim immediately lifted the youth to his chest and ran to the chopper, his armed escort still surrounding him.

Weston swung out a helping hand from inside the chopper, having already turned Barranza over to the crew. James jumped on board and reached down to drag both sentinel and guide on board, settling them into a corner of the bay. He intuitively knew not to try and separate them. Forty seconds after landing, the chopper took off with all its intended cargo intact.

Burke assisted with applying pressure dressings to both wounds then retired to a seat in the front of the helicopter. Simon slid down beside his best friend, careful not to touch or startle either man. Any further attempts to relieve the detective of some of his burden were met with ice-cold stares and what sounded like muted growls.

The military base had only a small infirmary. Radioing ahead, the pilot informed the men behind him that a transport would be waiting for them at the base to take them to the medical center in the heart of Mexico City.

Seeing the deep-seated worry on each man's face as they studied the pale, limp form cradled tightly in the lap of the camouflaged man, the pilot decided to pull out all the stops to reach home. Ten nerve-shattering minutes later, they landed at the army base outside of the city.

Patiently awaiting their arrival sat a fully equipped, fully staffed, state-of-the-art medical helicopter. Jim smiled to himself as he spied the words 'Diaz Corporations' in small letters on the side of the carrier.

<< I think I'm definitely beginning to like that guy.

Easing gently from the bay, Jim momentarily held the gaze of each member of Burke's team, gave one curt nod and strode rapidly for the medical helicopter. Simon hurriedly shook hands or clapped a shoulder as he too raced towards the transport.

All four covert ops men watched as the white bird disappeared from sight. A sense of loss seemed to touch each man's soul as the sudden quiet descended on them.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim stood still and silent just inside the surgical waiting room doors, blissfully ignorant of the curious and somewhat cautious stares sent his way by both staff and visitors. All of his energy was focused on the operating room where his young charge lie in the hands of one of Mexico's finest vascular surgeons.

Still dressed in his blood and dirt encrusted fatigues and torn, black T-shirt, painted lines on his skin smeared to indeterminate shapes by sweat and blood, expression frozen into a fierce granite mask, he presented the outside world with a glimpse of a ancient guardian warrior from days long past.

Anyone who needed to pass through the waiting room doors did so hesitantly. Gradually the room contained only Simon, Naomi, Hector Diaz and himself.

Diaz and Naomi had met them at the emergency room doors moments after the helicopter set down. Having received word about the seriousness of Blair's injuries prior to their arrival, Diaz had arranged for a vascular surgeon to be waiting in the unit when Naomi's son arrived. Jim silently thanked the man's foresight and influence.

<< I may have to kiss Diaz before this is all over.

Twenty short minutes later, the still unconscious young man was prepped, intubated, anesthetized and under going surgery to repair a partially severed brachial artery.

The sentinel had planted himself at the opening to the operating room hallway when he had finally been separated from the wounded youth and there he remained. Arms crossed behind his back, feet splayed widely apart, he remained motionless. No urging from staff, Naomi or Diaz caused any reaction except a curt shake of his head. No amount of yelling, threatening or cursing from his best friend and captain resulted in any change of his stance with the notable addition of a small sigh. At least that reassured Simon he was not zoning.

Two hours later, the rumpled, green clad figure of Blair's surgeon ambled down the hall towards them. Jim broke free from his position and stepped towards the diminutive man. The surgeon scanned concerned eyes over the imposing figure and gently laid a hand on one muscular, grimy arm.

"Let's sit. I'm tired. You must be too. From what I hear, it's been an unusually exhausting and tense day for all of you."

Removing something from his back pocket, the surgeon handed Jim a metal object.

"The staff didn't quite know how to dispose of that. I'll leave it to you. You saved his live with that, you know."

Naomi reached out and impulsively hugged Jim in thanks.

Jim hefted the full ammo clip and slipped it into his pocket. He opened his mouth to cut short the conversation but stopped as the man raised his hand. Dropping down onto a vinyl couch, the surgeon gestured to the seats around him. Jim reluctantly perched on the arm of the couch as Simon, Naomi and Diaz joined the circle.

Diaz offered his hand to the physician.

"Thank you for your assistance, Dr.Sanchez. We are fortunate to have your expertise available to us. We are all very grateful."

"Please, Senor Diaz. The hospital has benefited for many years from your generosity. I was only too happy to be of service."

Naomi clutched at the doctor's hand, moist blue eyes pleading to hear good news.

"How is he, Dr. Sanchez? Will he be all right?"

"I'll cut to the heart of the matter. Your young man will be fine. He tolerated the procedure well and the damage was all fairly easy to repair. He doesn't appear to have suffered any permanent loss of circulation to his lower left extremity and the patch I mended to his artery is holding well. He did require several units of packed red blood cells to replace the volume he lost enroute to the hospital and in the field. He will need careful follow up treatment and some medications for a few weeks but I think we can plan on a full recovery."

All four friends breathed a collective sigh of relief. Jim slowly lowered his head, chin almost resting on his chest. A large hand landed on his shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support as Simon came to stand at his side. His voice sounded dry and tight.

"When can I take him home?"

Diaz quickly lay a hand on Naomi's arm as she opened her mouth to object to the detective's possessive tone and attitude. She reluctantly remained silent, allowing the surgeon to answer.

From what he had heard of the couple in the emergency department the young man was visiting Mexico with his mother but lived in Cascade with his father. The father had seen to all the paperwork and insurance forms. Sensing the undercurrent of disharmony between what appeared to be the young man's estranged or divorced parents, Sanchez decided to be conservative in his recommendations.

"Home from the hospital? Two days, if all continues to goes well. Home to the States? One week, I need to see him again before that time and will arrange for a specialist in your area to continue with his care."

Noting that both parties had quietly accepted his statements he stood and shook hands with all present.

"I will check on your son when he is settled in a room. That will be in about an hour after he recovers from anesthesia. You should all get something to eat."

Turning to the 'father' he grinned and forced down a chuckle.

"I hear from the nurses, you're scaring the populace, senor, staff and visitors alike. You should get cleaned up. As a matter of fact, several nurses voiced a desire to help if you needed it."

Jim blushed slightly and had the grace to return the teasing smile.

"Any tall redheads in the group, doc?"

"No, I'm sorry to say there aren't."

Casting a confident glance at Naomi, he again teased the tall man.

"Your lovely wife is the only one to fit that bill today."

"I'm not--"

"He isn't---"

"We're NOT married!"

With a small chuckle and an accepting smile, Sanchez shrugged his shoulders.

"That didn't stop Blair from being born, did it?"

Sanchez missed the startled expressions and stuttered denials as he hurried to the door. Before reaching the hallway he turned and interrupted the embarrassed mumbling from the group.

"By the way, it is hospital policy that when a patient receives blood, friends and family donate to replace our supplies. Blood donating is not as popular here as it is in the States. Our supplies are low and very limited. They prefer the same type as was used. If you have no objections, someone from the blood bank will be along shortly to take samples from each of you to determine your blood type for the record and see if any of you match the patient's type. As we have parents here that shouldn't be a problem. I will see you again later. Good day."

A stunned and uncomfortable silence settled over the little foursome. Jim smiled hesitantly at Naomi and Diaz, then moved over to look out a window on the other side of the room. Simon joined him after hugging Naomi and offering a few words of comfort and relief that Blair would be all right.

Simon spoke in a low voice through clenched teeth.

"I TOLD you, you two act like you're divorced. What's with the tall redheaded thing? I know that's your type but didn't you ever notice Naomi fits that description too?"

A small snort accompanied his answer.

"Not after her first sage-filled visit, I didn't."

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the lab tech. All four consented to the blood screening and minutes later the tech left with four carefully labeled tubes. Informed it would take approximately twenty minutes to run the tests, Diaz and Naomi volunteered to get coffee and sandwiches while Jim and Simon used the small bathroom to clean up.

Sooner than expected the tech returned with the results of their screening. Naomi and Diaz had yet to return. The pleasant looking mid-aged woman smiled at the two tall good-looking men and consulted her clipboard.

"Well, gentlemen, only one of your party has the right blood type to replace the type used by Dr.Sanchez' patient and since he said there was a parent here that must make you the father. Senor Ellison, right?"

Jim and Simon looked at each other in confusion. Shaking his head Simon smiled at the woman.

"I'm sorry but there's been some mistake. His mother is here. You must want Ms. Sandburg. She stepped out for a minute."

The woman checked her paperwork and shook her head.

"No, there's no mistake, senor. The patient, Blair Sandburg is B+. James Ellison is B+. Naomi Sandburg is A+. I ran the tests myself and am positive they are correct. Blood typing is always checked by two tech to be certain there are no mistakes."

Both men exchanged thoughtful glances. Behind them Naomi and Hector arrived with their meal, catching the tail end of the conversation.

The tech continued as she tapped her clipboard with her pen. Naomi paled at the woman's next words.

"Besides, it is medically impossible for an A mother to give birth to a B child. It can't be done. Genetics don't work that way. Naomi Sandburg can't be the patient's biological mother."

Unaware of the sudden tension and stress in the room, the tech gestured at Jim and smiled trying to draw his attention away from the newcomers.

"If you'll follow me, Senor Ellison, we'll get this out of the way and have you back up here in time to see your son when he's moved to his room."

Staring into Naomi's pale and frightened face, Jim softened his expression slightly but not his voice.

"We'll talk when I get back, Naomi. About everything, the secrets and the lies. All of it."

Nodding stiffly, Naomi sat down hard on a nearby chair with Hector at her side.

Simon widened his eyes and gave a little shake of his head in confusion. Grabbing a sandwich and a coffee from out of the bags Hector had sat on a nearby table he muttered to himself as Jim followed the tech out the door.

"The Sandburg Zone. Once again I have landed in the Sandburg Zone. How the HELL did I piss off the powers that be this bad? I have GOT to start donating more to charity."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jim stepped into the dimly lit private room and quietly placed one of the two deeply cushioned chairs as close as possible to the bedside. Settling into the comfortable padding, he slowly reached out and stroked the pale cheek of the young man he considered his own. He smiled softly to himself as he remembered he shared the same blood type with his young charge.

<< We're closer than even I thought we were, Chief. I guess that makes me biologically closer to being your father then Naomi is to being your mother. Not that I ever plan on telling you about Naomi. Just what you need, kid, one more thing stripped from you. This time by a woman you never knew, your mother. No wonder you have such a desperate need for unconditional love, and some security and stability in your life. Why you crave a sense of belonging and a home.

He trailed his hand down from the pale cheek to finally rest his fingers in the palm Blair's right hand. His large fingers curled possessively around the thin wrist and held on firmly. He arranged his body so he could rest comfortably and still retain his hold on the young man.

Glancing over at the far side of the bed, he eyed the thick white dressing wrapped around the young man's elbow and for several inches up and down his arm. A bright blue fabric, metal and Velcro splint encased his arm from slightly above his wrist to just under his armpit. Metal rods imbedded in the fabric prevented even accidental bending of his elbow, ensuring the repaired artery would remain immobile.

IV fluids flowed continuously into the veins of the arm Jim cradled. Occasionally a bag of antibiotics would be hung along with the fluids. A small dressing covered the bullet crease on the smooth forehead. The butterfly under his eye had been removed and the swelling in his eyelid and cheek had decreased noticeably. The deep bruising remained dark and painful looking.

Reassured that all was reasonably well with his child, Jim let his head roll back on to the chair's backrest. Closing his weary eyes, he replayed his earlier conversation out in the waiting room with a nervous and tearful Naomi.

"Jim, let me try and explain. You have to know that what I did, I did for Blair! The obfuscation and the secrets were for his safety not for me! I had hoped there would never be a reason for me to have to discuss this with anyone!"

Naomi paced the length of the room and back again, wringing her hands and occasionally tossing her hair out of her eyes. It was easy to see where Blair picked up his nervous habits.

"I'll just bet you did. Maybe you'd better start by telling me about Nora."

Taken back at the unexpected depth of the man's information, Naomi stood speechless for a moment.

"You know about Nora? My God, if you could find out about her then so could someone else. Blair's not safe anymore."

A note of hysteria crept into her voice.

"Just slow down and tell me everything. You're not making any sense here. Tell me about Blair's mother, Naomi."

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, the redhead calmed her racing heartbeat slightly. Swallowing audibly, she perched on the edge of a chair and looked off into the distance.

"It was the middle of May in 1973. I had just arrived in Cascade. A friend had told me about a peaceful little commune just below a range of beautiful mountains. It sounded perfect for the springtime. The day I arrived I met up with another new comer and we instantly became best friends. She was a redhead too, with wide soulful dark blue eyes. She was a very small, short and petite with fine bones and pale skin. She was beautiful inside too, very smart and very sweet. That was Nora. She was also very pregnant and very frightened."

Turning her head to finally look at Jim, she took another deep breath and rubbed her hands over her face once, as if to clear away confusion.

"Nora's boyfriend, the baby's father, had been killed in an auto accident five months after the baby was conceived. He had been from a very well to do European family and they welcomed their only son's pregnant fiancé with open arms after his death, even bringing her to live with them in one of their homes on the east coast. One day she accidentally overheard a conversation about 'removing' her 'permanently' from the baby's life and taking it to Europe as soon as it was born to be raised properly. His family was extremely powerful and she had been living there long enough that she knew they could get away with anything they really wanted to without much trouble. She had begun to think that her boyfriend's father was more then a little on the crazy possessive side. She was due in 6 weeks and was scared out of her mind."

"Did she tell you their name? Where she was when she lived with them?"

"No, Jim, she was scared! She said the less I knew the better. I believed her. She wouldn't even tell me her last name. I didn't ask many questions after that. She had no family of her own to turn to. She managed to slip away on a day trip shopping and took trains and buses across the country until her cash ran out. She had met some people at the last place she stayed who were heading out to Cascade and decided to tag along at the last minute. She was positive his family was trying to find her and she was keeping as low profile as possible. When we met, she had only less then three weeks before the baby was due. She didn't want to see a doctor nor have any records of the baby's birth filed, so we agreed to have the baby together. I had helped with one other birth a year before and there was a midwife staying at the commune. Births happened like that all the time at communes back then. Between the two of us everything worked out fine."

A small smile appeared on Naomi's lips as her remembered the first time she had seen the boy who was to become her son.

"Oh, Jim! He was so beautiful! Tiny like Nora, with her big eyes and little nose. He squirmed and wailed like a banshee with his first breath, always in motion even then. I held him in my arms and I remember thinking that this must be what pure love felt like. He was life and promise and hope all rolled into one wrinkled little bundle. I knew I could love him for the rest of my life. Nora could see how he had affected me. She begged me to take him and keep him safe. She said if he stayed with her, the others would eventually find her and take him from her anyway. At least if he was with me she knew he would be loved."

Staring up into the silent man's expressionless face, she unconsciously began pleading with him.

"You have to understand, Jim! We did it for Blair! We wanted him safe and happy in a life filled with laughter and adventure and love!"

Breaking his gaze away from the pleading eyes before him, Jim stared at the leather tie still wrapped around his left wrist.

"Is that what you think Blair's life was like Naomi? I don't think so. No chance at life-long friendships, no stable home, the clothes on his back and a worn out backpack as a substitute. Being hauled from one stranger's home to the next every few months. A new 'uncle' or 'mommy's friend' to answer to just as often. How many of those men thought Blair was a stone around their neck and how many thought he was an added 'bonus' to the relationship? Going thought the pain and awkwardness of being the new kid on the block a half a dozen times a year. Being shoved into school and college years before he should have been, providing for himself, without someone there to confide in, to guide him and give him a sense of structure and security. A person to comfort him when a child, and believe me Naomi, he WAS just a child, needed comfort and love. He needed to KNOW he was loved, to see tangible evidence of it, not just a month old postcard every 6 months. Were the adventure and the free and easy life of no commitments and no strings, even to your child, worth the price of Blair's sense of self worth and most of his childhood? Believe me, Naomi, I have a little experience at what growing up without love can do to a child's self esteem."

Anger blazed through Naomi. She abruptly stood and began to pace the large room.

"You weren't there! You have no idea what you're talking about! Blair was happy! He grew into a beautiful and caring young man! He's brilliant and sweet and well traveled! He knows hundreds of people from around the world! My free and unencumbered lifestyle helped make him that!"

Jim shook his head.

"No, I wasn't there but I wish I had been. Blair IS beautiful and brilliant because his MOTHER passed that on to him. He is sweet and caring because that's part of his natural personality, that's just Blair. He knows how to hitch a ride and sleep in bus terminals as a result of your traveling and he has hundreds of AQUAINTANCES who barely know him and don't miss him when he's gone. He has panic attacks when he's feeling insecure and alone and he would bare his soul to the devil if you would just stay in one place long enough for him to catch up to you. So you could see him for the person HE is, not just a pale reflection of you and your values. THAT'S what your unencumbered 'detach with love' lifestyle did for him."

Looking into the hard lines of the face before her, a devastating thought occurred.

"Blair loves me! I love him with all my heart! He's the only exception to that rule. I always have to come back, at least for a little while, to be with him. He is the one true love of my life, Jim. The only one I have been able to love forever. Please tell me you aren't going to tell Blair! I changed his birth date and forged new certificates every time I thought someone had shown too much interest in him --- his birth, where we came from, who his father was. I wanted him safe! Who would look for a 13-14 year at college? And it worked! He has been safe! A little lonely but safe! You want the same things for him--safety and security. You love him too. I know that! Don't destroy his world over this, please! He doesn't NEED to know! Nora is long gone. I've never been in contact with her after she left, ever! I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for her! Don't take away the only mother Blair's ever had if you can't offer him another in my place! Please Jim! Please!"

Jim stood and stalked halfway to the door before turning around to face the distraught woman. His voice was so quiet with restrained anger she had to strain a little to hear it clearly.

"I know you did all these things out of your own version of love, Naomi. I know you love Blair as much as it's possible for you to consistently love anyone. Blair loves you with all his heart. But he needs more than just you and your occasional 2 hour/2 day visits every 6-8 months and your 'detach with love' philosophy. He deserves more. I would never intentionally hurt him. Even though he isn't my biological child he is the child of my heart, my son by choice. You should be able to understand that, especially now that we're on even footing in that department. Your secret is safe as long as keeping it doesn't harm Blair. That's all I can promise."

Naomi closed her eyes briefly and released a relieved sigh.

"Then that will have to do, Jim. Thank you! I never meant for anyone to know. I don't want him to lose his trust and faith in me, in our relationship. He's all I have to love."

"He's all I need, he's a part of me."

Jim left a bewildered but thoughtful Naomi behind and entered the room of his sleeping charge. He sat down next to the bed to await the awakening of his heart.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The courtyard was ablaze with torches and brightly colored lanterns strung all around the patio and into the surrounding trees. A four piece Mexican band strolled slowly among the party guests. Tropical flowers bloomed in the terrace gardens along the walkways and edges of the veranda. Tables laden with platters of food and drink dotted various areas.

Hector Diaz escorted Naomi further into the mingling guests, introducing her and chatting with each person present. Many were old friends of both Naomi's and Hector's while some were new acquaintances. The music was cheerful, the day gorgeous and the company delightful. It was turning out to be a wonderful party.

Jim watched the activities from his comfortable perch in a cushioned lounger on the veranda. Glancing to his right he let his eyes reaffirm what his senses were already telling him.

Blair sat in the lounger next to him surrounded by open boxes and piles of colorful torn and wrinkled paper from the numerous birthday gifts presented to him by family, friends and new acquaintances. The color had returned to his face over the five days since his release from the hospital. His wound was healing well and his energy was slowly returning.

Blair shifted his still immobilized and heavily wrapped left arm higher on the pillow were it rested, trying to ease the growing stiffness in his shoulder. As he leaned forward a second time to adjust his arm, large hands plumped the pillow and guided his arm down on to it. The same hands moved to rub the slender shoulders gently working out the aches. When Blair cautiously tried to slip the fingers of his other hand under the edge of the restraining device, Jim bopped him on the top of his head and returned to sit on the side of his lounger.

"Hey, man! Why'd you stop? That was SO great! My shoulder gets really stiff lugging this contraption around. I can't wait until its off, man. I will never take the ability to bend my arm for granted again!"

"Just slow down there, Junior, you're not ready for the tennis set yet. You've got at least another week in that thing. So stop fidgeting with it."

"I'm not fidgeting! I'm just checking that it's on securely. You know, so it won't fall off when I stand up or anything."

"If that thing falls off when you stand up, standing up will be the ONLY thing you'll be able to do. Now get you fingers off of it."

"YES, Dad!"

A palm landed on his forehead tapping back his head a few inches as the older man rose from his seat.

"You need something to keep your hands occupied. I'm going to get you a plate of food."

"And a beer, man."

"Keep dreaming, Chief."

Blair sighed in exasperation, resigned to being completely alcohol free for at least the next two weeks that he was on medication.

< Oh well, maybe I can sneak a sip of Jim's beer later. Worth the try.

Thinking back over the earlier threat to his ability to sit, he reconsidered.

< Mmmm, then again, maybe not!

Looking out into the partygoers, Blair watched as his mother and Hector joined Jim at the buffet. His partner and his mother had appeared to reach some sort of agreement over their differences and much to Blair's relief a truce was in effect. They treated each other, if not warmly, at least courteously.

Where as Jim and Naomi's relationship was tentative at best, Jim and Hector Diaz were quickly becoming fast friends. Diaz found the Cascade detective and his captain to be intelligent, resourceful, courageous and men of strong convictions and loyalties. All qualities Diaz admired. Likewise Jim realized the successful businessman was insightful, broadminded, decisive and strong willed with equally strong convictions and a well-developed sense of friendship and trust. Before Simon had returned to Cascade on Tuesday, the three of them had made plans to go deep sea fishing in the Gulf next summer, anthropologist included, whether he wanted to go or not. Good thing he did.

Miguel and Jose had stopped by to see him earlier in the evening. Jose had awakened shortly after Jim and Simon had visited him in the hospital and was recovering nicely. Blair was relieved to see him alive and well.

Jim returned with a fruit and vegetable laden plate and a tall glass of juice for his fidgeting guide. Diaz and Naomi followed behind. Jim turned suddenly and focused his alerted senses on the festive guests. Already aware of who was approaching, he still waited for visual confirmation before helping Blair to a standing position.

"What's up, Jim?"

"You've got company, Chief."

Looking towards the entrance to the gardens from the house, even Blair could make out the four large figures striding towards them, most noticeably the dark haired giant towering over everyone in their path.

A huge smile of delight spread across the young man's face as the four covert ops soldiers advanced on their grouping, directed by an awed waiter. All four men were dressed casually, from jeans and cotton sweaters to khakis and polo shirts. Daniel Burke carried a brightly colored package in his one hand. As the group arrived on the veranda their host stepped forward shaking hands with each man.

"Ah, gentlemen! I'm so pleased you were able to drop by for our guest of honor's birthday celebration! We have much to thank each of you for. Please! Enjoy yourselves! If not for your actions we might not be having this party nor would we need to, I fear."

Naomi moved to Hector's side and extended her hand in thanks also.

"I'm Blair's mother, Naomi Sandburg. I can't thank you enough for helping save my son. Mr.--"

"Burke, Daniel Burke."

Appreciative looks were exchanged between the big blond and the tall redhead that ended only when someone behind Burke cleared their throat. A similar sound occurred behind Naomi at the same time along with a faint whimper of distress.

Introductions were made and champagne arrived for the newcomers. A toast was made to the flushed and grinning guest of honor, who unhappily, sipped fruit juice. Naomi and Diaz wandered away to mingle with their guests leaving sentinel and guide to offer their thanks in private.

Burke turned to watch Naomi's graceful form drift in and out of the crowd.

"Your mother is a beautiful and charming woman."

Blair tried hard not to snort with laughter.

"Oh, man, she is SO not your type, man! Tell him Jim."

"Blair's right, Burke, she isn't your type."

"If I remember correctly tall redheads were your type, Ellison. Saving her for yourself?"

"Hardly. She has a thing about the military."

"Likes a man in uniform?"

Blair snickered out loud and grinned devilishly. Jim smiled back at him.

"Not exactly. Remember that protest at the airforce base last year that made all the headlines and forced the government to shut down the base for 16 hours?"

"Yes, I remember."

"That was Naomi. She helped organize the protest, arranged the media coverage, petitioned the state senators and congressmen and forced the government to temporally halt some secret flight training they were illegally engaged in over restricted territories. As I said, she has a thing about the military."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, she's all yours, buddy."

"She must just love the shit out of you, Ellison!"

"Naomi and I have reached an understanding based on a common ground, so to speak."

Burke and Ellison eyed each other speculatively. Jim slowly extended his hand and the two men shook cautiously. Jim relaxed his hard expression and glanced at each man in turn, he eyes rested on Weston and James.

"I know you shouldn't have rescued Blair when you did. I know you went against every mandate and rule black ops has in the book about endangering or altering your mission objective to rescue him from Ortega and then keep him with you while you made your escape. I just want you to know I appreciate it and I won't forget it. Thank you."

Understanding the difficulty the ex-ranger had in making that declaration and sensing the sincerity behind the unexpected words, both men were momentarily speechless. Ethan recovered first. Extending his massive hand he griped Ellison's hand firmly.

"You're welcome. We're glad we were there to do it. We never thought once about NOT doing it. Although we really need to talk to you about the kind of neighborhoods your kid plays in. Kidnapped twice in side a couple of months sends up a warning flag to us."

A yelp of protest escaped their indignant young topic of conversation.

"Hey, man, that is so not fair! YOU guys kidnapped me the first time. I was patiently sitting in Jim's truck like I was supposed to and-----"

Weston gleefully recovered his voice.

"You were climbing out of the truck, not paying attention to your surroundings, in a bad neighborhood, against orders-----"

"Okay, okay, I give! But this time wasn't my fault either! Jose and I just stopped into a cantina to get a cold drink of iced tea when------"

"But you had a beer instead. At 10:30 in the morning."

Blair grimaced and licked his dry lips, glancing up at his towering guardian.

"Ah, well, ah, you know about that, huh?"

"Yeah, Junior, I know about it. We'll discuss it later, when your arm's healed. We have a lot of things to discuss then about this little trip."

The four rangers exchanged amused grins behind Blair's turned head. Weston pulled a small package from behind his back and offered it to Jim.

"On that note, I think it's an appropriate time to give you this. Just a little something we thought you might need in the future. It's for you, for little bit."

Jim frowned slightly and turned the wrapped package over to inspect it. Not finding any thing to help discern the contents, he carefully opened it as a curious Blair looked over his arm.

Removing a three-foot length of braided black leather with a hook at one end from the paper, Jim's puzzled look changed to a smirk as its significance dawned on him. Blair remained clueless looking at the grins on the older men's faces.

"WHAT? Come on, Jim give! What is it?"

Trying unsuccessfully to wipe the grin from his face, he reached out and fastened the hook to one of Blair's belt loops.

"It's a leash, Chief. A short one, made just for you."

All five men burst out laughing as the feisty little guy spun around and released the hook from his pants.

"You guys are a riot, man! Pick on the poor injured guy on his birthday why don't you!"

Struggling to keep his own smile undiscovered, Blair was secretly thrilled to be part of the camaraderie shared by these tough special forces men, his own Blessed Protector included.

Wiping tears of laughter from his face, Jim reached out and gently tugged the birthday boy to his side, cautious of the healing arm. Ruffling the soft curls, he hugged the slender shoulders close for forgiveness.

Jackson Burr pulled the other gift from Burke's hand and extended it to the exasperated young man.

"Here's our real gift. I hope you like it, Blair."

Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, the eager young man torn into the small object. Removing paper and box lid, he slowly pulled tissue away from a small, carved, stone figure. Blair gasped in recognition. Pulling it from the box he reverently examined the carving.

Carved from deep blue lapis, the three-inch creature had the head of an eagle and a serpent entwined around his human body.

"This Huitzilopochtli, the warrior sun god and special guardian of the Mayan Tenochtitlan. It's a Mayan fetish, a genuine Mayan artifact! This has to be thousands of years old! I can't believe you guys found this!"

Burr took satisfaction at the obvious delight and wonder in the young man's voice and eyes.

"The woman who sold it to us said it was a symbol of good luck and provided protection for whoever carried it. We thought maybe you could put it on a key ring or wear it around your neck or----"

Weston broke into the conversation with a muffled laugh.

"--Or have it surgically implanted under your skin. So you'd always have it close."

Blair threw a half-hearted grimace at the grinning weapons expert.

"Smart ass. Are you trying to tell me I need better protection?"

Burke flicked a glance over to Ellison softly smiling face. Meeting the pale blue gaze, his own soften.

"No, you already have one real-life warrior-hero guardian. We just think you could use a little extra help for those times when you wander away from your Blessed Protector."

A brilliant smile lit up the smooth young face as it gazed up at Jim. A brief squeeze to the back of Blair's neck acknowledged the sincerity of the adoring look.

"Yeah. But this gift is out of this world! Do you know the history behind this idol? It's fascinating! Huitzilopochtli was considered an incarnation of the sun and its struggles with the forces of night to keep mankind alive. The moon and the stars were jealous of him. He used the 'serpent of fire' and the suns ray's to defeat them in battle. The Mexica saw the sunrise as a daily victory over the forces of darkness. It was--"

Bowled over by the depth of the young man's knowledge, the four soldiers stared opened mouthed at the expanding lecture. Burke held up a hand to slow the rush of excited words that flowed rapidly from the now bouncing youth.

"Whoa, birthday boy! As fascinating as I'm sure it is, we'll have to take a rain check. We're due back at the base in a short while. We just wanted to stop to see how you were feeling and to wish you a happy 27th birthday."

"Ah, 23rd birthday, I'm only 23 today."

Raised eyebrows all around met his response.

"A little problem with my birth certificate, a little obfuscation here and there and well, I'm 23 not 27."

Burke shot a questioning look at Ellison but met only a blank stare.

"Then Happy 23rd Birthday!"

"Thanks, man! I really appreciate your stopping in like this and the gift and all. It was great! Thank you."

Weston popped forward again and tugged gently at a stray curly lock.

"We're going into town tomorrow evening for a little R and R. Would you and your Blessed Protector there want to join us for a drink?"

"That would be great, man! Jim?"

Blair darted his eyes to the ground quickly and back up again to lock with the pale blue ones of his surrogate father. He expelled a deep sigh as he turned back to face Weston.

"But I can't drink alcohol while I on medication (sigh!) and I have an early curfew (sigh!) for about the next hundred years I think. Thanks for asking though (sigh!)."

"I guess the short leash is working already, hey little bit."

"Funny, Ray, real funny."

Weston leaned close to Blair and tapped him on the chin.

"You can call me Spencer, little bit."

A knowing smile softened the surprised young face as the four men turned to leave. Blair suddenly moved forward to follow.

"Uh, Ethan?"

The big man had been quiet and unassuming the entire visit, staying in the background and watching the interaction between the detective and his charge, doing his best not to tread on another's territory.

Turning at the sound of the tentative voice, Ethan gazed down into dark blue eyes as they searched his hazel ones for the trust and caring they had found once before. A smile touched his face as one slender arm reached up to try and wrap itself around his neck.

Quickly bending down he carefully hoisted the slight body in the air and cradled it to his chest for a moment. A softly whispered "thank you" was puffed in his ear.
Returning the boy to the ground, he was not surprised to see Ellison standing in front of him ready to take back his young charge.

"For everything."

"You're welcome, little man, for everything. Any time."

Jim caught the towering man's eye again.

"Thanks for saving my life."

Ethan was left wondering whether the detective was referring to his having saved the boy's or the detective's life. Either way, James had been happy to comply. An acknowledging nod answered the ex-ranger. James waved a silent goodbye as he turned and rejoined his waiting partners. Blair watched them disappear off the veranda.

"Hey, Jim! I forgot! I've got something for you! I bought it just before Jose and I ran into trouble."

Digging through his pant pocket and then his shirt pocket, Blair finally pulled a small package out and handed it to his Blessed Protector.

"What's this for, Chief? It's your birthday, not mine."

An embarrassed expression settled onto the young face. His voice turned tentative and soft.

"I know, man. I just wanted to give you something to show you how much I care about you, big guy. You're always taking care of me, being there for me when I need someone the most. And I don't mean just saving my life like last week. I mean the way you save me everyday. I've never had someone be there for me like you are Jim. I love you, man."

Jim stared at the open trusting gaze of the precious young life that had been entrusted to him by the fates and wondered what he had done to deserve such a gift. He carefully opened the tissue wrapped box and lifted out the pocketknife. Running his sensitive fingertips over the beautifully carved black stone inlay he traced each line of the powerful jungle cat depicted on each side.

"This is beautiful, Chief! The carving is amazingly detailed. I love it!"

Opening it to inspect the blade and weight he grinned delightedly at his young friend.

"It's perfect! Thank you!"

Pulling the lightly bouncing youth to his chest, he hugged him tightly as he whispered into the wild halo of curls.

"I love you too, Blair. Don't ever doubt it."

The tight embrace was returned one-armed but enthusiastically. Wiping hastily at his eyes, Blair smiled up at his 'father'.

"I remembered you broke the blade on your old one last time we camped out. Now you have a new one to use during my birthday present you gave me. A whole week camping in the mountains! That is going to be so great! I can't wait, big guy!"

"It will be here before you know it, Chief. Just concentrate on resting and getting better. And speaking of getting enough rest---"

"Aaaah, Jiiimmm! It's my birthday!"

"That's right. How many birthday swats is it now, birthday boy, 27?"

"23! Just 23, man!"

Jim advanced on the wide-eyed young man as he backed hastily towards the house. Grabbing the slender waist as Blair turned to run, Jim swung him easily under one arm and continued on towards the house. Yelps of laughter floated out to the partygoers as the older man tickled the squirming figure in his grasp.

Passing Diaz and Naomi on their trip indoors, Jim relented briefly.

"Say good night, Chief."

"Good night, mom, Hector. Thank you for the party. It was terrific! AAAHH, JJJIIIMMMM! STOP!"

Pleads for mercy followed by more yelps of laughter dotted with breathless giggles faded from the air as the two disappeared into the house. Naomi followed them with her eyes, pleased to see her son happy and well cared for. And well loved if she was honest with herself. Very well loved.

She smiled softly and spoke to the wind.

"Happy Birthday, Baby! I love you!"

The End