by Carol Roi
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She came barreling around the corner, black trench coat flying behind her, boots skidding on the slick tile. She tried to pull up in time, but lost her balance, smacking into Blair.
"Whoa, whoa, Dee, hold on," he said, his grip on her jacket the only thing keeping her upright.
The Immortal's frightened blue eyes met his. "Lobo, how is she? Is she okay? You've got to let me help her!" She struggled in his grasp, trying to get past him to reach the unconscious woman in the ICU.
"Dee, Dee, calm down. You're not going to be any good to her this way," he said, trying to sooth the hysterical woman.
"No," she sobbed, "no! It's happening all over again! Lobo, you have to let me help her!"
One of the ICU nurses gave them a dirty look and started in their direction. "Dee, you have to listen to me," he hissed. "You have to calm down before they throw us out of here. Can you do that?"
Clamping her hand over her mouth, she nodded. "It's okay," he told the nurse. "We'll be very quiet." Taking her by the hand, he led her to the ICU waiting room. Seating them on a couch away from the other visitors, he slid his arm around her shoulders, feeling her press her face into his neck. "Megan's going to be okay, Dee. They're going to take her to surgery once she's stabilized. You're not going to lose her."
"I should have been there, I should have been there, I should have been there," she moaned. "The Champion isn't supposed to let this happen. I should have been there to help her, to help Captain Banks. . ."
"Dee," he breathed against her hair, "Dee, angel, she's going to be fine. Right now you have to pull yourself together for her. What's she going to think when she sees you going to pieces, huh?"
Taking a couple deep breaths, Dee forced her racing heart to slow, centering herself enough that she could monitor the Aussie's vital signs from where she sat. Once she was satisfied that Megan was doing fine, she relaxed and disentangled herself from Blair. "Sorry about that," she apologized. "I just kept seeing the whole thing with Lydia all over again. I can't, I can't go through that again."
"I know," he said, reaching out a hand to smooth her tousled hair. "But she's going to be just fine."
Taking a quick check around, she was surprised not to find Ellison's presence. "Where's Jim?" she asked.
Blair's expression darkened, and his voice was strained when he spoke. "He's in a bad place right now. He feels like this is his fault, because he didn't see this coming, wasn't able to stop Megan and Simon from being hurt. He was there in Simon's office when it happened; he was the one Zeller was shooting at."
"Zeller's a fucking lousy shot," she muttered under her breath. "Why didn't Jim hear the shot?"
Blair shook his head. "He's so stressed by all this his senses are shorting out on him, and... ."
"And he won't let you help him," she finished.
"No, he won't," Blair admitted sadly.
"You know I'm going to have a talk with him about this. . ."
"No, Dee, please don't. Let me work it out, do what we discussed. Then if things don't get any better, you can talk to him," Blair said.
Dee was suddenly interested in the doctor walking toward them. "I'm not going to promise you that, Lobo, you know I can't." She rose to her feet. "Doctor, what can you tell me about Megan Connor?" she said, drawing on twenty years of living in Australia to match her companion's accent.
"Are you related?" the physician asked. "If you're a family member, you can go sit with her for 15 minutes every hour."
"I'm her sister," Dee replied promptly. She trailed after the doctor, turning back to give Blair a wink before she disappeared into Megan's room.
Blair watched her through the window for a few minutes, slightly envious of the way Dee touched her, stroking her face and holding her hand, part of him wishing Jim would treat him the way Dee did Megan, as an equal partner, her other half. He shook the momentary disappointment off, then headed off to check on Simon. He knew Dee would find him when she was ready to leave.
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Moving the chair closer to the bed, Diandra took a seat. Laying a hand on her companion's wrist, her anxiety faded as she felt the strong beat of her heart under her fingertips. Goddess, she should have been here. As it was, she longed to rest her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, to heal the wound she'd received. But she didn't dare, not here in the hospital. If only she'd been at the station, hell, if she'd only been in Cascade. . .
"Stop it." Her partner's voice was soft and slightly hoarse. "There wasn't anything you could have done even if you had been there. You couldn't have stopped this."
"But I could have healed you, kept you from this." She waved a hand at the hospital room.
"And risk exposing what you are? What you can do? I won't let you take that risk." Megan's eyes met the Immortal's gravely.
"That's not your decision to make; it's mine, and your life is worth far more to me than keeping any secret."
Megan shook her head, grimacing slightly. "Let's hope we never have to make that choice." Her next words were so soft Dee had to strain to hear them. "I don't want to end up like Jim and Sandy."
"Not gonna happen," Dee replied, raising her soulmate's hand and holding it to her cheek. "Though we have a lot to talk about, Pajara. There are things about me you need to know." Seeing the slightly frightened look on her face, Dee added, "Not bad things," exactly. "Just things about me I've put off discussing. And we've never talked much about your past, either." She took Megan's slowly drooping eyelids and large yawn as her cue to leave. "I'm gonna go now, Pajara, and let you get your rest."
Megan gripped her hand tightly. "No, Dee, what about the case the FBI wants your help with? It sounded pretty serious when I spoke with Dana this morning. That's why I got you out of the shower."
"It's okay. I already talked to her. She and Fox are going to handle it on their own."
Megan yawned again. "If they need you, you go. I'm not going to be causing any trouble for awhile." At Diandra's skeptical look, she said, "Trust me! Promise me if they need you, you'll go."
Something knotted inside her at her companion's request. "I can't make you that promise, but I'll keep it under consideration. Now get some sleep." Getting to her feet, she leaned over the other woman, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."
After tracking down Megan's doctor and asking about her prognosis, Dee went in search of Blair. She found him outside the window to Simon's room, staring in, his hands in his jacket pockets. Coming up behind him, she slid an arm around his waist. "Hey, Lobo, you ready to go home?"
"I guess so. Can you give me a lift back to the loft? I rode over with Jim."
"Yeah, I picked up a rental car at the airport. Jim didn't come back while I was with Megan?"
He shook his head. "I called the station. He and Joel are out running down some leads on Zeller."
She heard his unspoken pain. Jim was out with Taggert because he didn't trust Blair. Encircling him with both arms, she pulled him into a hug. He squeezed back tightly in return, and she closed her eyes, letting his love warm her weary soul. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with him and stay there the rest of the night. Goddess, she was tired. Letting out a yawn, she asked, "Can you drive? I'm exhausted."
"Sure, angel." Letting go of her waist, Blair took her hand and led her to the parking lot. They had just started back to the loft when her cell phone rang.
"Hello. Oh, Fox, hi. Megan's going to be okay. Just a shoulder wound. The bullet went clean through. She's going to be in the hospital a couple days though." She hesitated, listening to the agent's words. "I see. I don't know, Fox. I just have a bad feeling about this. He could come back to finish what he started." More silence on her end, then a hushed, "Oh, shit. Look, I'll call you in the morning, okay? I'll let you know then. No, I know you wouldn't be asking if it weren't absolutely
necessary. Just let me find out more about what's going on here, and I'll let you know in the morning. Talk to you then." She closed her phone with a click, and leaned back in the seat, dropping the cell in her lap as she went to rub her temples.
Blair's voice broke the silence. "What's going on, Dee?"
Sighing, she said, "Dana and Fox are tracking an escaped prisoner."
"And? There has to be more to it, otherwise they'd be calling in the marshals, not you." He glanced at her briefly then turned his attention back to the road.
Dee's fingers went to work on the back of her neck. "She's got some kind of psychic ability that allows her to force her will on others, to make them see what she wants them to, literally."
"Is that really possible?"
"Must be. Dana told me they've faced her before, and nearly lost their lives." Leaning her head against the back of the seat, she closed her eyes. "Fox thinks her ability won't work on me, because of my own ability to see the truth. He thinks that since she's projecting a lie, I should see right through it. I think he's grasping at straws, but... " She shrugged.
"So what was his phone call for, specifically?"
"Their guess is she was stopped by a state trooper in Virginia. She forced him to turn his gun on himself."
Blair felt his chest tighten. "Oh, god... "
"They don't know for sure that's what happened. They're not even sure it was her the trooper stopped."
"Dee, if Mulder thinks you're the only person who can stop her, then you have to go." He didn't look at her as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road.
Dee shook her head. "No. I'm not leaving until Zeller is behind bars. I'm not going to risk him coming after Megan again, or you, or Jim."
Blair's grip on the steering wheel tightened and he turned into the parking lot of the loft. "And what are you going to do? Stand guard over all of us? Jim can handle Zeller. It's just a matter of time before he makes a mistake and we catch him." He put the car in park and shut off the ignition.
She didn't reply until after she'd gotten out and retrieved her bag and sword case from the back. "How long is it going to take, Lobo? How many people are going to be hurt or killed before he's caught?"
Blair held the door to the building open for her. "How many people is this escaped criminal going to kill before you go help the FBI?" His words were a little louder than necessary.
She followed him up the stairs. "Mulder doesn't know for sure I'd be of any help there. At least here I know I can protect you."
He walked into the loft, feeling his anger growing. "What? You don't think Jim can handle Zeller?"
Setting her bags down, Dee shook her head. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that I'd feel better if you and Megan had a little more protection."
Blair whirled to face her. "Oh, so it doesn't matter that people are dying on the East Coast and you could do something to stop it if you wanted to. You'd rather stay here, just so you'd 'feel better' about the situation."
She stared at him. "Lobo, I don't think you understand what--"
The rage that had been building since the moment his dissertation had been made public exploded, and she happened to be in the way. "God damn it! I'm not some porcelain doll, Dee! I'm not going to break into little pieces if you're not here to hold my hand!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Blair regretted them. For a brief second, he could see the agony in her eyes then it was as if a mask dropped in place, wiping any trace of emotion from her face. Without a word, she shouldered her bags and left the apartment.
He stood there a moment in shock, slowly realizing they had just had their first fight. Without warning, Blair was hit with a wave of overwhelming emotion, coming, he realized through their connection. He doubled over, the rush of pain and fear almost more than he could handle. Oh, god, he'd done that to her, he'd hurt her that badly. Groping for the door handle, he managed to get it open and stumbled after her.
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Jim Ellison pulled the Ford into its parking space outside the loft. Turning off the ignition, he didn't immediately get out of the truck, the events of the last few days replaying in his mind. A twinge of guilt shot through him. His treatment of Blair the past 48 hours had been abominable. He didn't blame him for not coming home last night. If he had been Blair, he wouldn't have wanted to be around him either. At least Zeller hadn't resurfaced. He sighed. Was it too much to hope that he'd disappear after they'd faked Bartley's death? Probably.
He did a quick sweep of the area with his senses. At least the reporters weren't camped out in front of the loft. Still, he crossed the parking lot swiftly and pulled open the door of 852. A sheet of paper taped to the elevator door informed him it was out again. He started up the stairs, automatically extending his hearing to the loft above, recognizing the voices of his roommate and his Immortal lover. Great, an evening with Blair's cheering section was not something he was looking forward to. Couldn't she ever see his side on anything? As he rounded the first floor landing, he listened a little more closely, the heated words he overheard coming as a shock. Blair was arguing with Diandra? Those two never fought; they were nauseating in their devotion to each other.
"God damn it! I'm not some porcelain doll, Dee! I'm not going to break into little pieces if you're not here to hold my hand!" Uh oh, that didn't sound good at all. Jim's assessment of the situation was confirmed by the slamming of the loft door. Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and even through he knew she was coming, he still couldn't get out of the way in time.
She rounded the turn in the stairwell, barreling into him. Her blue eyes flashed angrily as she recognized the sentinel. "Get the hell out of my way, Ellison!"
Raising his hands in a gesture of acquiescence, Jim moved toward the wall. Diandra traveled a few steps past him, then turned back to face him, her expression deadly. "If anything happens to Lobo or Megan while I'm in DC, you'll have to answer to me!" she snarled. With a swirl of black coattails and a clatter of boots, the Immortal disappeared down the stairs.
Jim stared after her, wondering what in the hell had gotten into her. The sound of a car peeling out of the parking lot reached his ears, and he knew she was gone.
"Dee! Dee, wait!" His guide's voice drifted down from two stories above, followed by the noise of his rapid descent. Unable to stop his forward motion upon catching sight of Jim, Blair ran into him at full speed, tumbling them both to the floor of the landing. "Sorry, Jim!" he apologized, scrambling to his feet, intent on continuing after his girlfriend.
Ellison grabbed his roommate's arm. "It's a waste of time, Sandburg. She's gone. I heard her drive away. What in the hell did you do to piss her off?" Blair glanced down at him, and Jim was unprepared for the depth of agony he saw reflected in his eyes.
Blair shook off Jim's hand. "I know I'm a fuck-up; you don't have to rub it in." Turning, he went back up the stairs, Jim following him as he entered the loft.
"Chief--"
"Just give it a rest, Jim, okay? I don't need to hear it from you again." Entering his room, he closed the door behind him, effectively ending any conversation before it began.
Snagging a beer from the fridge, Jim headed upstairs to his room. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he took a couple swallows of the cold brew, then leaned his elbows on his knees, the bottle dangling loosely in his hands. Cautiously he opened up the empathic link that bound him to his guide. A wave of raw emotion roared over him. The beer bottle dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, shattering on the floor as Jim fought to shut the door he'd opened. It took him more than a few seconds, but the connection was finally closed. "I'm sorry, Chief," he whispered at the floorboards between them. "I'm sorry."
Even though he felt for his partner, Jim still couldn't bring himself to knock on Blair's door when he went downstairs to get a towel to mop up the spilled beer.
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&n
bsp; Dee drove like a maniac toward the airport, taking her anger out on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other punching numbers into her cell phone. The other end was picked up on the third ring. "Duncan, I need a favor."
MacLeod heard the tension in his friend's voice. "Diandra, what's the matter? Is this about Ellison's being a Sentinel being on the news?"
Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled the car to the side of the road, afraid of losing control if she talked about this as she drove. "Yes and no. Damn it, Duncan, Megan's in the hospital--"
"What!"
"--Jim's being his usual asshole self and Blair's blaming himself for all of it. And there's nothing I can do to help them, to protect them. All my instincts are screaming at me to stay here, to keep them safe."
"But?"