Title: Blue Smoke

# 8 in the Father Figure Series

Author: Amethyst

Pairing: none

Warning: DD/CP

Summary: A bomb threat at Rainer and a dangerous health problem for Blair.

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.

As Jim came through the loft door, his face took on a grim and determined expression. Throwing his keys into the basket by the door, he knocked the door shut with his heel.

His expression hardened even further at the sight of his young guide curled up on the couch, wrapped snuggly in an afghan. The young man lay curled on his right side, head cushioned on a throw pillow, both arms tucked up under his chin, looking all of five-years-old. Exasperated affection gentled the hard lines of the sentinel's face.

Slowly Blair raised himself from the couch, gazing around the loft with a confused and sleepy look on his young face. His sluggish response to the slamming of the door signaled how deep of a sleep he had fallen into. Sleepy eyes landed on the imposing form of his towering roommate.

"You want to explain to me why I didn't need to use my key to get in the door, Junior? Why I find you lying on the couch, dead asleep? In an unlocked apartment. Alone."

Frustration and anger radiated off of the large man.

"Huh? W-what? "

Blair rubbed his half-opened eyes with his fists, adding to the image of child-like innocence. He swayed slightly on the couch and grabbed for the armrest to steady himself. He squinted his eyes and placed his left hand partially over them, tilting his head up to focus on the quietly fuming form in front of him.

"Jim, man, you home already? What time is it? Ah, man, I must have fallen asleep."

Blair groped sluggishly at the blanket entangling his lower body. Jim reached down and gently pulled the afghan from around the small body, freeing his legs and feet. Lending a strong right arm to bring the sleepy young man to his feet, Jim started, rapidly slipping an arm around Blair's waist as the young man's knees suddenly buckled.

"Whoa there, Chief. Get your bearings. What's wrong? Are you sick? Is there something going on here I should know about?"

A large hand landed on Blair's forehead, checking for fever.

Blair regained his balance and hesitantly stepped away from the mountain of warmth and support at his side.

"Wow! Hey man, I'm OK. Just a head rush from getting up too fast, I think. I'm fine now, just the light hurts my eyes a little. When did you get home, big guy?"

"Just now. Answer my original question, Chief. Why was the door unlocked with you asleep? You know the door should be locked when you're here alone, especially if you're asleep or in the shower. It's not safe."

Small thunderclouds crossed the large man's face, as he stepped closer to his companion.

"I DID lock it when I came home."

The hand shading his eyes moved to rub roughly over his left temple, attempting to chase away the throbbing headache simmering beneath the surface.

"I'm sure I did."

A small frown furrowed his forehead.

"I remember! I laid down on the couch for a minute and then, Mrs. Pritchard from down the hall stopped by, with some of those brownies you like. She said she just made too many for the two of them and didn't want them to go to waste."

He grinned mischievously at his partner.

"I think she wanted you to be here, man. She gets a certain glint in her eye around you, big guy. She sure is spry for a lady in her 80's. I must have forgotten to lock it again after she left. I was a little sleepy by then. Sorry."

Still squinting and shading his eyes, he stumbled towards the kitchen, passing his blessed protector on the way. A firm swat landed on his backside as he passed.

"DON'T forget to lock the door."

The firm and uncompromising tone generated a rapid response of head nodding.

"Ow! Hey, man, OK!"

Unfortunately, head nodding caused a small explosion of pain and light in Blair's forehead. Blair gasped and held his head in his hands, stopping suddenly in the middle of the kitchen. Just as quickly as it had emerged, the pain and lights receded. A faint touch of nausea was left behind.

"What is it, Chief?"

Jim wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulder and guided him into a kitchen chair.

"You looked fine this morning at breakfast. What happened today? I thought you had classes until 6pm. It's barely 5:30 now."

"I'm OK, really. I just got a burst of flashing colors behind my eyes. It's gone now. I've had a headache all afternoon. I took something for it when I got home. Maybe I need to have my glasses checked again. It has been a little hard staring at the monitor lately. And grading that mountain of tests. And researching those two articles I have due next week. I think I just need to rest them for a while. Really, Jim, I'm Ok. It's gone. I'm fine. I'm not sick."

Blair looked up and graced his roommate with one of his most convincing smiles. The effort to keep from squinting lowered the sale value on the attempt to alleviate his sentinel's suspicions.

"I came home early because my last class was canceled. Some kind of fumes from the basement, I think, leaked into the classroom just as we were starting. It was a mess there, man. You should have seen it! Blue clouds of smoke filled up the room in no time, but it didn't smell bad. There weren't any other rooms open for the whole time slot so I got to come home. I got here a little after 3:00pm. I must have crashed. Let me get washed up and I'll make something for dinner, OK?"

Blair rose from the chair and slipped cautiously down the hall to the bathroom. He still didn't think his stomach was ready for any aspirin. It had been almost four hours since he had downed two Tylenol when he had arrived home. Reluctantly downing two more for his now pounding headache, Blair splashed his face with cold water and braced himself for the next conversation with his blessed protector. The slight nausea continued to roll through his stomach.

<That's what you get for skipping lunch to work on that article research. Dinner is just the thing. It'll settle my stomach and appease the mighty sentinel. Take his mind off me and put it on his appetite.
His return to the kitchen was meet by a concerned and demanding wall planted firmly in his path.

"Did you get checked out at the hospital or clinic, Chief? How much of that stuff did you inhale? What was it? Was anyone affected by this stuff? Was the fire department notified?"

"I didn't need to get checked out, man. I'm fine. I was fine then and I'm fine now, big guy. Yes, the fire department was there. The first student out of the room had instructions to pull the alarm. I didn't know if the smoke was from fire or not at first. I got everyone out into the hall. When I went back for my backpack, I could tell there wasn't any heat or flames. It was really weird. Just a lot of blue smoke. I didn't wait around for the fire department's final take on the situation. Hey, man, when I saw all my students were safe and checked that the class would have to be canceled, I booked. Everything looked under control between campus security and the fire department. I was not going to complain about an afternoon off. Not after the schedule I've been keeping."

Blair slipped passed what appeared to be an unmoving statue of muscle. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of juice, turning to catch his sentinel's eye. He froze in place, bottle half way to his mouth. A look of barely contained fury was evident on the big man's face.

"You want to tell me that again, Chief." Jim's voice was deadly calm and soft.

Blair's eyes widened with the sudden knowledge that he was in deep trouble. That tone of voice never meant good things were going to happen. Blair frantically reviewed his prior conversation.

<Oh, God, what did I say I shouldn't have? Fire Department-OK. Fire alarm pulled-OK. Students safe-OK. Blue smoke-who knows. Got my backpack --OH, SHIT! SHIT! I am toast!! Corrrection my butt is toast ! Damage control time.

"I-I knew t-there wasn't any fire by then, Jim. It was s-safe. I-It was just smoke. Not even bad smoke. I mean it didn't even smell. It must have been like steam or something."

Blair started to edge toward his room. A looming shadow blocked his path.

"Are you telling me, that after making sure everyone was safely out of the room and before the proper authorities arrived, you went back into a smoke filled room of unknown origin to retrieve a leather bag full of paper? Do I understand this right, Junior? "

While Jim's voice stay calm and soft, his expression hardened into granite and his clenched jaw worked furiously. Large arms, crossed on his board muscled chest, unfolded to catch the slowly retreating form of his young guide.

"It has my laptop in it! All my research and articles. My car keys. My cell phone, too. YOU said I have to have my phone at all times. It's a RULE on the LIST."

Blair was beginning to panic. An iron band closed around his right wrist and he was firmly tugged back into the older man's personal space.

"So it's my fault you needed to go back into a potentially dangerous area before it was cleared?"
The tone was so cold, Blair was sure ice was forming around the sentinel's lips. He glanced up, half expecting to see blue rings around Jim's mouth. Instead, he found fire in the pale blue eyes.
Blair swallowed audibly and tried to salvage the moment, along with his butt.

"They're your r-rules, man. B-besides, how could I have gotten home without my keys? I need my computer! You know it has everything on it! My life's in there, man! I can't afford to replace it. You know that. Come on, Jim. Understand for once!"

Blair tugged futilely at the hold on his wrist and anxiously studied the floor.

Jim reached out and gently forced Blair's chin up. Blair's dark blue eyes jumped all over the room until they finally settled on Jim's pale blue ones. Tears of remorse immediately brimmed in his eyes as the worry and concern in the older man's face registered. A firm, unyielding hand held his chin in place.

"These are OUR rules, Chief, not mine. Remember that. You didn't need your keys. You could have called me to come get you. You have spare copies here."

"You shouldn't have to leave work to chauffeur me around. I'm all grown-up."

"Not by a long shot, Junior. After you retrieved that valuable cell phone, did you even bother to call me? Let me know what was going down? How you were?"

"No! It wasn't a big deal! I was fine, man."

Despite the Tylenol, Blair's headache was escalating as the minutes dragged by. The lights in the loft felt like they were increasing in their brightness with each passing second. Blair fought the urge to cover his face against the glare.

<I AM fine. Just tired.

"What good is a computer if you're in the hospital or dead? You think about that, Einstein. All the published articles and academic accolades are worthless if you aren't here to enjoy them. Do you honestly think I'm buying this load of crap you're shoveling?"

"You could if you tried."

Resignation settled over his pale face.

"N-no. I guess not. "

Blair bit his lower lip as a wave of nausea rolled over him.

Jim's left hand suddenly shifted from the young man's wrist to his forehead, chin still held firmly in place. Blair's jump in pulse rate registered immediately with the sentinel. Blair took several quick breaths in an effort to calm his rising nausea.

"Chief, what's the matter here? What..?"

Jim grabbed his young charge by the waist and half carried him into the bathroom when he heard the boy's stomach churning and his stomach fluids battling to get out. He deposited the small form on the floor in front of the commode with not a second to spare. Blair's meager stomach contents erupted into the bowl and the next several minutes were spent dry heaving. Jim held the long brown curls back with one hand and held onto Blair's forehead with the other, pressing his own body against the small back to support him, head cradled to his chest.

"It's OK. You're going be fine. Come on, take a deep breath for me. It'll pass in a minute. Just take deep breaths. Come on, you can do this."

The sensation of nausea slowly subsided. A cool cloth on the back of his neck and across his face contrasted sharply with the warm wall at his back. Comforting words registered in his ear and a soothing hand held back his hair, gently massaged the back of his neck. The bright colored lights flashed painfully behind his eyes. Tears streamed down his face from the uncontrollable effort required to complete the dry heaves. Slumping back against his caregiver, Blair let out a whimper of distress.

"Jim, I don't feel good. My head is killing me, man! "

As shivers started to overtake the small body, Jim pulled them both from the floor and headed for the front door. He detoured past the couch, snagging the afghan off the back and wrapping his young guide securely in it. With both arms supporting the stumbling figure, he opened the front door.

"You're going to the hospital. Can you make it to the truck? Do you feel sick again?"

A disheveled head came to rest on his chest.

"I don't want to go to a hospital! I just want to lie down! God, Jim, the lights are making my eyes hurt so bad! Even with my eyes closed they hurt. I want to lie down! Please, Jim, I want to go to my room!"

"You need to get checked out, Junior. I not sure what we're dealing with here. But I'm not taking any chances. We're going to the hospital."

"I just need to go lie down, Jim I'll be OK! Just give me five, man!"

A weak struggle for freedom occurred, terminated by a gentle swat to a blanket wrapped bottom.
"That's the end of it. This isn't up for discussion. We're going."

Rebellion momentarily quelled, Jim lifted the shivering young man into his arms and exited the loft.

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

Jim stood beside the narrow emergency room stretcher, gentle running his hand over his young guide's too warm head. They had been here for over an hour and were waiting for laboratory results to come back. The doctor and nurses had been quick with their response to Jim's description of Blair's sudden onset of symptoms, but even more interest and speed resulted after mention of Blair's involvement with the "blue smoke" incident at the college.

The emergency department was already treating two of Blair's students for expose to the mysterious fumes. The students were the last two out of the room and the two closest to the area where the smoke had seemed to come into the room.

They had both shown up at the campus clinic with complaints of severe headaches within an hour after the incident. From there they had been transferred to Cascade General for treatment of suspected chemical poisoning. Their exposure time had been barely over 2 minutes. Only Blair had been exposed longer than they were. He was the last to leave the classroom, ushering all the students out, then returning once again to retrieve his precious backpack.

After Blair was triaged, undressed, examined, evaluated by the doctor and lab work drawn, Jim had slipped outside the curtain to contact the fire department first hand. There he learned that the smoke had not leaked into the classroom from pipes in the lecture room.

The source of the fumes turned out to be a bucket wedged under a seat. It had been filled with several household chemical compounds that when mixed together form a harmless appearing, but ugly blue smoke in copious quantities. It seemed fitting justice that the only students being treated in the ED were the ones responsible for the incident.

They had thought to disrupt the lecture and gain a long weekend off to attend a party out of town. They had obtained the formula from a weapons web site that illustrated how to turn everyday products into deadly weapons. Unfortunately for them, the harmless appearing smoke was not so harmless.

Both were now guests of Cascade General and on discharge would be seeing some of Cascade's finest men in blue. There were already several officers obtaining statements and writing reports by the nursing station. Jim joined the group momentarily and confirmed the information gained earlier from the fire department personnel. The remainder of Blair's students were being contacted to ensure no one else was symptomatic.

Jim returned to Blair's cubicle after calling Simon to notify him of the situation.

Blair lay curled on his side, oxygen mask strapped securely over his small square face, a mountain of blankets covering him from head to toe. The bright exam lights had been turned off and soft, dim illumination come out from under cabinets over the counter top in the back of the room.

A small blue basin was beside him on the stretcher, wet from recently being rinsed out. Blair had vomited twice more since his arrival to the emergency unit. The blinding headache, made worse by bright lights, made him seek refuge under the mound of covers.

Until chemical levels in his blood were determined, no medication for the headache pain or the nausea would be given. Drug interactions were a grave concern involving the specific chemicals used to poison the classroom.

The thinly cushioned chair squeaked as Jim drew it nearer to the right side of the stretcher. He settled himself as close as possible to the huddled form of his young guide. Reaching up under the covers he gently enfolded one small hand in his own, softly stroking the skin beneath his thumb, careful not to disturb the IV site further up his arm. An IV of normal saline dripped continuously, slowly replacing fluids lost with the vomiting. Small warm fingers curled around larger ones, holding on firmly.

"Jim? That you, man?"

Blair's voice was soft and slightly distorted by the mask. He slowly raised his head from under the covers and squinted up at the older man.

"Did the doctor say the blood work was back yet? I want to go home."

"Hang in there just a few minutes yet, Chief. I think someone is coming now. Just be quiet and rest. We'll worry about going home after we find out what's going on."

Jim shifted his hand from Blair's hand to his forehead and brushed stray curls out of the young man's eyes.

As predicted, the curtain was swept aside and the familiar form of Dr. Hagy entered. Having treated both men on previous occasions, he knew asking Ellison to leave was an exercise in futility. The older man protected the young one with a ferocity no one was willing to confront. The young man seemed to fold into the security and comfort of the older man with the natural ease of born family. Strong, safe family dynamics were not to be challenged. The physician discarded concerns of confidentiality and launched into a discussion of his patient's lab results.

"Blair, are you awake enough to listen to me for a few minutes? Has you stomach settled down at all?"

Blair pushed himself into a more upright position and squinted up at the blurry figure, nodding his head only slightly to keep the bright lights lurking behind his eyes at bay.

"Well, all the lab results are back. I'm glad you came in when you did, Blair, but I must say, I'm upset you'd didn't get medical care at the university when this happened or come in when the symptoms started. We now have a problem with the treatment plan I need to order due to the extended delay in getting appropriate care."

Dr.Hagy's expression was less than pleased, but he noted it was nothing in comparison to one on Ellison's face. Worried dark blue eyes darted nervously to stern pale ones, then dropped to stare at the weave of the blankets.

"What exactly are we talking about, Doctor? Is he in any danger here?"

Jim clamped firmly down on his rising anger at his foolish young charge and focused on the doctor's words. There would be plenty of time to deal with his wayward stubborn charge when he was well again.

"Well, yes and no. We have a treatment plan in place and Marsha will be bringing in some medication to get it started in a few moments. Let me explain the problem. The chemical compounds used to make the smoke bomb that Blair was exposed to are absorbed by the bloodstream through the lungs. From there, they are circulated throughout his body and eventually are excreted by his kidneys. So far, so good. His kidney function is good and his blood results show levels of function are in normal ranges. However, before these chemicals reach the kidneys they stop off at his liver. Here lies the problem. When in a gaseous state, one of the chemicals used binds with liver cells. It adheres to the cells, engulfing them and eventually starving them of nutrients. The damage starts within four hours of absorption and increases each hour. If left untreated, over the course of a few days, significant cell damage occurs, usually resulting in hepatic coma and death. The situation COULD have been grave."

Jim sprang from his chair and advanced a step closer to the doctor, horror and disbelief written on his features. Blair made a slight gagging sound and grabbed for the basin. Jim immediately stopped his forward assault and turned to assist his roommate. Gently easing the oxygen mask from his face, Jim supported the basin as Blair dry heaved into it. Not even stomach acids were left to come up. After a moment, the exhausted young man slumped back against the stretcher.
The older man gently replaced the mask over the pale frightened face.

"Doctor, I can't believe....."

Jim angrily stepped closer to the unmoving figure at the end of the stretcher.

"Mr. Ellison, I said 'if left untreated'. It would have better if Blair had been here a few hours earlier, but there is still every chance that we can contain the damage that's occurred already and stop the progression of more. By my calculations, he was exposed roughly six hours ago. Drug blood levels show a fairly moderate to high absorption has occurred. I'm surprised they're this high, even considering you went back into the room a second time. Starting treatment within four hours is best but that wasn't possible."

"If you knew what to expect, why didn't you start him on this medicine when we first got here. That would have saved a couple of hours. His LIFE is at stake!"

Ellison's anger was a living thing, simmering beneath the surface, barely under control. Full Blessed Protector mode had risen to the surface. It was a startling sight to witness. The already imposing man seemed to grow in size and stature, Power emanated from all around him. Even his voice dropped to a deadly timber, scorching like fire and his blue eyes turned to ice. He automatically took a more protective stance around the frightened and unusually silent figure on the stretcher, simultaneously comforting the boy and shielding him from the subconsciously perceived threat of the third person in the room.

Momentarily taken by surprise, Dr.Hagy stepped back in awe. It happened to varying degrees each time the young one was brought into the ED, but it was fascinating to watch each and every time. Shaking himself from a sentinel induced trance, the doctor tempted fate and stepped closer.

"Because the blood levels obtained by the laboratory results determine the drug dosage and length of treatment. Without accurate levels it's impossible to calculate how much of the drug is needed to counteract the poisonous effects. It's also based on Blair's weight and body mass. The treatment has possible side effects. too. Being as accurate as we can is the only safe way to approach this. We want the best for him, too. That means taking this step by step."

Jim evaluated the doctor's words and slowly relaxed his stance. While the older man maintained a physical closeness over the young one, there was a slight lessening of tension in the room.

A tall redheaded nurse slipped into the room carrying two cups. She smiled but stood to one side and waited for the explanations to continue. Dr. Hagy waved her over to the patient.

"Now that we have all of the necessary information, we can begin. Blair, I want you to take the medication in this cup. It doesn't taste great but you need to drink a full glass of water with it. It helps your body absorb it. You'll need to have this every four hours around the clock for the next two days at the very least. Lab work will be repeated every eight hours to evaluate your chemical blood levels. I'm admitting you to the hospital for next few days."

Seeing the instant rebellion spring to the young man's face, he held his hands up to signal silence.

"You need IV fluids and some fairly strong pain and anti-nausea medication for the next day or so."

Pointing at the grim faced detective at Blair's side, the doctor patted the young man's arm.

"If you have a problem with that, I'll let HIM argue with you. You need to stay. This is serious, young man."

"I took some Tylenol when I got home. Then again before I threw up. I HAVE been trying to take care of myself."

The sullen tone of voice was accompanied by a quivering chin.

"Well, that explains the higher than expected drug levels. Acetaminophen increases the binding power of the chemical. NO more Tylenol. Now or in the next two months. OK?"

The doctor departed and the nurse stepped forward. Handing Blair the first cup, she patiently waited until the mask was remove by the older man and watched as Blair quickly swallowed down the offensive liquid medication, rapidly followed by the cup of water. The nurse left, promising to return with medication for his headache and his nausea.

"Oh, god, man. That is terrible! It's worse than that gamba root Naomi tried to make me drink for meditation. I don't know if it'll stay d-down."

Tears formed in his eyes and his voice broke on the last word.

"I want to go home, man. Please, Jim? I can drink this at home."

A large warm hand slowly massaged his back and shoulders.

"Come on, Chief. You can do this. Take deep breaths and concentrate. Just think about how nice it feels to have your back rubbed. That's it. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. You can do this, Junior. I know you can."

The soothing patterns on his back slowly relaxed the exhausted young man. He leaned into the comforting warmth of the large form beside him and the nausea receded over the next few minutes. Reassured that the threat of vomiting had abated, Jim replaced the oxygen mask and resumed the comforting back rub.

The nurse returned as promised and injected medications into a port in the IV tubing. Slowly over the next fifteen minutes, the young guide relaxed into a light drug-aided sleep. Jim gently settled the slight body more comfortably on the narrow stretcher and adjusted the blankets closely around the huddled form.

He dropped quietly into the chair and waited for the nurses to move them to a private room upstairs, hand resting on one thin shoulder.

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Jim slowly opened his eyes and turned to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 9:47 am. He tentatively rotated his head, working stiff neck and shoulder muscles. Four days and three nights spent in barely habitable hospital chairs and a lumpy folding bed had taken its toll on the already tense man. Jim sat up on the edge of his bed and sent out his senses to check on his guide, finding him deeply asleep in his own room. Reassured, the sentinel settled back into the warm blankets.

<<Damn, it's good to get some real sleep in my own bed. At least now I can relax a little and actually sleep. Blair's better and he's home. Jesus, it's been along couple of days. Thank god the kid's going to be all right! Five more days of medication and daily trips to the hospital for blood work and he should be fine.

Fine. Right up until I get my hands on him. I DO NOT believe he went back into that room for his backpack! What was he thinking! A computer was worth more than his life? Well, little boy, you are going to think again. And today is the day you start. I may not be able to give you the spanking you so justly deserve right now, but I sure can warm up the playing field.

Jim got up and padded down the stairs. Setting coffee on to brew, he traveled to the bathroom. Hot water cascaded down his back, relaxing sore muscles and stiff joints. Toweling off, he shaved and completed his morning rituals. The smell of fresh coffee enticed him as he wandered into the kitchen for a cup, then upstairs to dress. After breakfast he intended to go down to the station for a short time. Four days running between Cascade General and the PD had produced little real police work.

Muffled sounds of movement and a deep sigh alerted Jim to the change in his roommate's level of consciousness. Heading downstairs and into the kitchen, Jim pulled out items for breakfast. A hot filling meal of eggs, toast, fresh fruit, juices and milk was placed on the table as Blair stumbled out of his room, T-shirt and boxers in disarray.

"Morning, Chief. How's the headache today?"

A hand reached out and ruffled a sleep tousled curly head as it stumbled pass him to the bathroom.

"Good. I'm good, man" was tossed at him before the door closed.

Moments later, a more presentable and awake version of his roommate appeared at the table. Hair tamed to a small riot by a comb and eyes opened with cold water, Blair dropped into his place at the table.

"This looks great, Jim, but I'm not too hungry. Maybe just some toast and coffee."

Blair set his plate of eggs and fruit aside only to have it mysteriously reappear in seconds.

"Eat."

<Calm efficient use of words. That was Jim.

"Really, man. Just some toast is good."

"Eat. "

<Great! One word 'Commands from God' again.

Blair tried again.

"Coffee. Coffee would be good. I'll get you another cup while I'm up, big guy."

A large hand caught his wrist as Blair attempted to make his way to the coffee maker.

"How do you feel this morning, Chief?"

"I told you, Jim. I feel fine."

Belligerence edged his tone of voice.

"I feel great. I'm all better. No headache, no nausea, no bright lights. I'm back to normal."

A tentative tug at his wrist produced no change in his captivity.

"Glad to hear it, Junior. 100% ?"

Jim shifted his chair back from the table.

"100%. I promise."

"You're sure?"

"I'm SURE!"

"Perfect."

<One word usage again. Not good for the guide. Damn!

The loft suddenly turned upside down. Blair found himself closely examining the floorboards one more time. Jim's left arm pinned him firmly against his waist and shifted his legs to raise his target. The first swat landed loud and hard.

SMACK!!

"I'm glad you're feeling better. 100%, you said. Now I don't have to hold off on this."

....SMACK!....

"What part of 'eat' didn't you understand?"

..... SMACK!......

" What part of the doctor's 'You'll need to eat at least three nutritious meals a day to help with your recovery lecture' did you miss out on?"

...... SMACK!.....

"Where were you when he said your stomach couldn't tolerate the medication without the buffer food provided?"

......SMACK! .....

"Are you having a hearing problem now too, Chief?"

....SMACK......

"Is this a symptom we missed earlier?"

......SMACK!......SMACK!

"Ouch! Jim! OWW! Jim, no I got it! Auuuggh! I got it! I just forgot! I-I could eat! Pleeease! I remember! OUCH!"

Blair landed upright, his blessed protector's steadying hands at his waist. Jim reached up and tapped the flushed face before him on the cheek.

"That was just a warm up, Junior. The real thing is after breakfast. Sit. Eat. Now."

<SHIT! THREE one word sentences.

The guide sat. The guide ate. He did it Now.

Jim rose from the table carrying dishes to the sink. Blair filled the sink and the two of them cleared up the kitchen in companionable silence. Blair spent most of it throwing nervous little glances at the older man, noticing again just how large the sentinel's hands were. Jim tossed aside the towel he was using to dry his hands on and turned to the anxious young man beside him.

"Your next dose of medication is due at 2:00. After that I'm going into work for a couple of hours. In the meantime, you and I have a few things that need to be discussed."

Jim pulled his chair back out, being sure he had plenty of room away from the table and sat.

"I'll just go get dressed first. Just take a second, man. I'll be like right back. Then we can discuss all you want, big guy."

Blair attempted a hasty retreat around the table, completely misjudging the length of his sentinel's arm reach. The retreating guide was snagged from behind and hauled back to stand beside his sentinel.

"No need for that, Chief. Just a waste of time since you'll be pulling the pants back off. This is just fine, Junior."

"Jeez, Jim are you sure you should be doing this so soon. I might have a relapse or something."

Blair shifted nervously from foot to foot and turned on his best puppy dog eyes.

"I checked with your doctor, Chief. He said you could 'resume normal activity' on discharge home. The doctor knew you would push yourself if you went home too soon. That's why they kept you so long, to make sure you were up to normal activity BEFORE they let you go. You'll survive."

With a quick swoop of Jim's arm, the young man beside him was stretched across his knees. Air rushed out of Blair's lung with the impact and he clung to the pant leg under him. Cool air ghosted over his backside as boxers were pulled to his thighs.

"Come on, Jim. Can't we talk about this? Can't I stand up to talk about this?"

His beseeching tone fell on deaf ears.

"I think you see things much clearer in this position. I know you listen better in this position. Let's discuss the last couple of days here, Junior. There are a couple of behavior items I think we need to go over, don't you?"

Not really expecting an answer, Jim wasn't disappointed by the defiant silence from his young friend.

"Behavior you know you're going to be punished for. Let's just start the list. You go first."

The same silence greeted the older man's invitation.

The small form across his lap's only response was a determined, but unsuccessful wiggle to free itself.

"OK, Chief. I'll start."

SMACK!......SMACK!.......SMACK!.......SMACK!..............SMACK!..SMACK!...

"Let me know when you want to start with your turn, Junior."

"OK! O-oK! OOWWW! It's my turn! OUCH!... N-now! It's m-my turn!..I went back in the classroom ...OOOWWWW...for my backpack! ...AUUGH! ....I should have w-waited...OUCH!...f-for the all clear from the f-fire ..OW!...department!"

"At no time will you needlessly endanger your health or your physical or emotional well being."

....SMACK!.....

"What rule is that, Chief?"

....SMACK!

"I-I don't know!..OUCH!OOOWWWW!...F-four. Number four!...Auuughh!"

"I knew that brilliant mind of yours could remember a few little rules"

....SMACK! ....

."Maybe not when you needed to remember them,"

...SMACK!..

"but we'll keep working on that."

....SMACK!.....

"Right, Chief?"

"Aaauugghhh!...Yes!..YES!....OOOOWWW!...Jim...OW... PLEEEASE!"

Great gasps for air filled the loft and the sound of cloth rubbing against cloth pounded at the sentinel's hearing as the frantic young one squirmed and wiggled to free himself. The sound of teardrops splashing on the floor and the scent of salt played on the sentinel's senses. The distressed, rapid pounding rhythm of his guide's heartbeat tore at the older man's heart and soul.

His resolve faltered momentarily. He flashed back on four days spent watching his sick and frightened young guide lying in a sterile hospital room, heaving his guts and crying himself into exhausted sleep. Four days of waiting for blood work results to prove that the young man was indeed improving. That the damage had been caught in time. That his world would continue. The sentinel snapped back to the present. He WOULD NOT lose his guide. His life. His heart.

SMACK!........SMACK!.......SMACK!.......SMACK!........SMACK!

"What else about number four? What about being sick, Junior?"

"P-pleease! Jim! ....Auugh! ...NOT T-TELLING Y-Y-YOU WHEN I DON"T FEEL GOOD! I-I'm sorry! I'M SO-SORRY! OOOOWWWW! I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry!"

Strangled sobs filled the older man's ears. The small body beneath his hands shook with the effort to breath and cry at the same time. Strong hands lifted and turned the guide, rearranging boxers back in place and resting him against the warm wall of his protector. The same strong hands that had disciplined him so thoroughly now provided comfort and love. Soothing patterns were drawn on his back and shoulder. Strong arms held him close, tucking his head under a firm chin and folding his slight frame into his sentinel's chest. Soothing words of comfort were chanted in his ear and he was rocked slightly in place. Gradually the tears and gasping breaths gave way to sniffles and hiccups. Shivering turned to occasional small shudders.

"We're all done here, Chief. We're fine now. You're going to be OK. You're going to be fine."

A small hitch tried to find it's way into the older man's voice and was immediately swallowed before it hit the air.

"I don't ever want to have to discuss this again. I don't ever want to come this close to losing you again. Understand, Junior? Are we clear here?"

Blair pulled back from the warmth of the embrace and stared at his blessed protector. Realization of how serious the situation was and how deeply his friend was affected slammed home to the young guide. Fresh tears brimmed and deep gasps of air tried to stop the onslaught of racking sobs that threatened to break to the surface.

"I'm so sorry, Jim! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to worry you. I never thought it could be so bad."

Several more deep breaths helped to steady the young man as he slid from Jim's lap to stand. A soft whisper landed in the silence of the loft.

"I was so scared."

Blair was pulled into an almost crushing hug as his sentinel stood and gathered him into his arms. Silence filled the loft for several minutes as both men contemplated the past few days and possible alternative, decidedly less appealing, endings.

Slowly, they released each other.

Jim ruffled the young man's hair and planted a quick kiss on the top of his head as he softly replied, "So was I."

Large thumbs brushed tears from the flushed face and lightly patted both cheeks.

By unspoken agreement, Jim guided his young charge to his bed and tucked the blankets gently around him. The big man sat on the edge of the bed and resumed the soothing patterns on the small back that Blair found so comforting. Within moments, sentinel hearing was graced with the comforting sound of a sleeping guide. Jim stayed by the bed and watched the sleeping form for long moments, reassuring himself of his guide's presence.

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"I'm going to run down to the station and finish up some paperwork. You going to be all right here for a few hours, Junior?"

"Sure, Jim. I'll be fine. God, this stuff is awful! How many more doses do I have to take?"

Blair grimaced as he finished the last swallow of thick yellow medication in the bottom of his glass.

"I can't believe they can't find a way to make this taste any better. Augh!"

He quickly downed a large glass of water.

"You've got four more days of it. That makes twenty-two more doses by my calculations. Suck it up, Junior. It'll be over before you know it. We'll drive over to the hospital for your blood work after dinner. I'll call before I leave the station, OK? Need anything?"

"No, man. I'm good, but I will run down to the lobby with you. I want to check the mail. I'm waiting for some grant applications to come. It'll give me something to do if they're here."

"Just remember to lock the door when you get back up here, Chief."

"God, Jim! I'm not a little baby. I WILL!"

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The insistent ringing of the phone pulled Blair slowly back to consciousness. He reached for the cordless by his head and fumbled for the on button.

" 'ello!"

"Hey, Chief. Did I wake you?"

"Jim! Yeah, man. I must have crashed. Are you coming home soon?"

"Yeah, I am. You asleep on the couch again?"

<<Bait the hook, oh wise and all knowing sentinel.

"Yeah, I was working on those grant papers. Boring stuff, you know?"

"I can imagine. Say, Chief, the door is locked, right? "

<<Cast out the fishing line.

"Uh, what, Jim?" The muffled sound of a body falling off the couch onto the floor greeted the sentinel's ear. "Ow!"

<<Hook the prey.

"The door, Chief. It's locked, right?"

Jim listened to light footsteps rapidly tip toeing across wood flooring.

<<Set the hook.

"Sure, Jim. Sure. It's locked, man."

The sound of the lock tumblers falling into place thundered in the sentinel's ears.

Blair was treated to a full 15 seconds of silence.

<<Give him a little line to play him out.

"That wouldn't by chance be an obfuscation now would it, Junior?"

<<Reel him in and let him dangle.

"Uh, huh, Jim, man. Listen. I just woke up and I gotta go. You know, man, I really gotta GO. So I'll see you when you get home. Drive safe. I'll start dinner. Be careful. Bye."

The sound of the dial tone pulsed in the sentinel's ear. Jim smirked at the handset in his palm, a large knowing smile breaking out.

<<Got ya, my little guppy! I'll net him went I get home.