by Carol Roi
She nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Listen, if I look like I'm spacing or something in there, just kick me under the table. I've got a lot on my mind right now."
Dana gave her a smile. "Sure, but I have to warn you, sitting through one of these meetings is guaranteed destroy any brain cells you have left." When Dee didn't laugh, her expression turned serious. "Dee, it's going to be okay. They're in safe hands. Nothing is going to happen."
Dee headed for the FBI conference room. "Then why do I keep feeling like I've failed them?" Dana didn't have an answer for her.
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Blair stood outside the window of Megan's hospital room, MacLeod a silent figure at his shoulder. The Immortal rapped lightly on the glass and both Megan and Joe Dawson looked up. Duncan inclined his head toward the hallway. Getting stiffly to his feet, the Watcher left the room.
"Mac, Blair." Reaching out, Joe gripped his protégé's arm firmly. "When you're through visiting Megan, we need to talk."
Blair nodded uneasily, then brushed past the two men and into Connor's room. "Hey, Megan," he said softly. "How are you doing?"
Her dark blue eyes were filled with concern. "I'm fine, Sandy, but it's obvious you're not. Pull up a chair and tell me what's going on. Joe's been less than helpful."
Blair dragged the plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down. As he was trying to figure out how to begin, she said, "We saw your press conference."
Blair hung his head. "I didn't know what else to do. I fucked up so badly, Megan, with so many people--Jim, Dee, you, Simon--and Jim's was the only life I had any chance of fixing."
"But to give up everything you've worked for all your life? Your reputation, your good name?"
He shook his head, still unable to meet her eyes. "It was the only thing I could think of to make it all stop, to make it all go away right now. Jim has his life back; that's all that matters, even if he never wants anything to do with me again."
"What about Dee? I know she wanted to help you; I thought that was why you came to see her the other night. God, has it only been two days?"
Swallowing audibly, Blair ran his hands over his face. "Dee's gone," he finally managed, his voice cracking on the words. "I... I said some really ugly things to her, and pretty much pushed her to go to DC."
"Oh, Sandy, no."
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Megan. She wanted to be here for you, and I made her leave. I'm so sorry." He had thought that after the press conference, after he'd done what he had to do, that everything would miraculously be okay. What had he been thinking? His whole life was shattered, along with everyone else's. He closed his eyes, trying to get some kind of control over his fragile emotions. "I'm sorry, I can't do this; I can't stay... " He felt her hand brush across his cheek to close gently on the back of his neck. Blair resisted for a moment, then let her pull him toward her. Her arm slid down to encircle his shoulders as he buried his face in her stomach, sobbing quietly, letting the tears finally spill down his cheeks.
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MacLeod was bent over a water fountain near the elevators when he felt the tingle start. It began at the top of his head and worked its way down until every nerve ending was on fire. He straightened slowly, his dark eyes going to the elevator doors as they opened.
A tall brunette in scrubs was revealed within, her light eyes scanning the hallway quickly before landing on him. Her brow creased in a small frown, and she stepped out of the car. Moving close enough that their conversation would not be over heard, she said, "I'm not looking for a challenge."
"Neither am I," the Scot replied.
"Good." She continued on down the hallway, not giving him a second look. She smiled to herself. Good thing the Highlander wasn't a Sentinel, else he'd have heard her heart beating a mile a minute.
The Phoenix paused around the corner from the other Immortal, cocking her head slightly and concentrating. It took her a moment to filter out the ordinary sounds of the hospital but it was much easier when she was on the same floor as her prey than it was trying to track their conversation from the parking lot. She found a position from which she could view her subjects without being noticed. Hmm, looked like the Guide was a wee bit upset, which she supposed, was only natural given the circumstances.
Blair's press conference had come as quite a shock to her. She had never imagined him capable of such self-debasing loyalty, especially to someone who treated him the way Ellison did. And what was up with Diandra being so buddy-buddy with Connor? At first she'd suspected they were lovers, but Pallas' nocturnal liaisons with Sandburg had quickly disproved that theory. In fact, Dee's relationship with the Aussie reminded her of Ellison and Sandburg's. Something Blair had said the other night, when he had been making love to Dee, came rushing back to her.
"Turn up the touch dial about three clicks." She hadn't been listening all that closely at the time, but now it made sense, a hell of a lot of sense. Pallas was a Sentinel. That changed everything.
For the second time in twenty-four hours, the Phoenix's carefully laid plans went out the window.
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Sitting up slowly, Blair wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sorry, Megan, I didn't mean to lose it like that."
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Sandy. That's what friends are for."
He cautiously met her gaze, looking for any sign of pity, but found only warmth and concern in her eyes. "Look, I've taken up enough of your time. I should let you get some rest." As she started to protest, Blair shook his head. "I'll be fine, besides, Joe said he needed to talk to me, and I wanted to check on how Simon's doing. I think he's scheduled for surgery this afternoon. I'll come back later, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that. And Sandy, call Dee, tell her you're sorry. Grovel, beg, plead, whatever it takes, okay? You're her heart, you know that, don't you?"
Biting the inside of his lip, Blair blinked, fighting back another wave of tears at her words. "Yeah, yeah, I'll call her." Getting to his feet, he bent over her, kissing her cheek gently. "Quit worrying about me and rest, okay?"
At Megan's nod, Blair gave her a small smile, and left the room. After a quick trip to the men's room to splash some water on his face, he went in search of the Watcher, finding him just down the hallway in the deserted visitor's lounge. He entered slowly, not sure he wanted to hear what Joe had to say. "Hey, Joe."
Dawson looked up at his words. "Blair, have a seat." He waited until the guide sank into one of the vinyl armchairs before continuing. "We saw your press conference this afternoon."
Cringing slightly, Blair scrunched lower in the chair, his eyes on his hands, which curled and uncurled nervously in his lap. "Yeah, well, it wasn't one of my finer moments. If I had been more careful in the first place all of this never would have happened. I've proven beyond all doubt that I can't be trusted with a secret. I won't blame you at all if you want to kick me out of the Watchers."
The older man leaned toward the younger, both hands resting on the top of his cane. "Blair, what you did today took balls, sacrificing yourself to keep Ellison's secret. You've more than proven yourself to me, and to the Watchers. I wish more of our people had your guts and your integrity. I know that right now you're still dealing with everything that's happened the past couple days, and I'll give you as much time as you need to make up your mind."
Blair frowned in puzzlement. This conversation was definitely not going the direction he had thought it would. "Make up my mind about what?"
Joe gave him a gentle smile. "Seeing as you are no longer employed by Rainier University, the Watchers would like to offer you a full time position. Research, field work, a combination of both--you can pretty much write your own ticket. With your anthropological and ancient languages background, you would be an invaluable addit
ion to our organization, and I would be honored to have the opportunity to work more closely with you."
Blair blinked back tears for the third or fourth time that day. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had screwed up incredibly, and done the only thing he could to make Jim's world right again. How come that suddenly made him a hero in Joe and Megan's eyes? "Joe, I--"
Dawson reached over and laid a hand on Blair's arm. "Don't get the wrong idea, Blair. I'm not asking you to come aboard full time because of what you did today. I would have asked you the moment you decided to join us, but you made it clear then that part-time work was all you wanted. I've known all along that you are the kind of person the Watchers need to grow into the 21st century."
Sandburg snorted. "Yeah, a perpetual screw-up."
Joe's fingers dug into the guide's arm. "You are not a screw-up, Blair. I don't know where in the hell you ever got that idea. We're all human; we all make mistakes. What matters is that you cared enough to want to make it right. You have an incredible mind and a hell of a lot to offer. The Watchers would be lucky to have you. Give it some thought, okay? I don't need an answer anytime soon."
He still didn't understand the reason for it, but Joe's praise lifted a little of the weight from his shoulders. The Watcher rose slowly to his feet and headed for the door. "I'm going check up on Mac; he's been gone a little too long for my liking."
As Joe passed him, Blair spoke up. "Joe? Did you really mean what you said? You weren't just saying things to make me feel better, were you?"
He felt Joe's hand on his head, lightly ruffling his curls. "Yeah, I meant what I said. You've got more courage than anyone I've ever met. So don't be so hard on yourself."
"Thanks, Joe. I really needed to hear that." Joe's hand dropped to Blair's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, then he was gone. Blair remained seated for a couple minutes more, thinking over what he had said, then he went to check on Simon.
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Jim got off the hospital elevator, his senses immediately open and alert, searching for his guide. So intent was he on locating Blair that he didn't notice the Immortal until he literally ran into him.
Duncan's eyes were unreadable black pools. "I'd like a word with you, Ellison."
"Not now, MacLeod." Jim made to go past him, but the other man deliberately blocked his way.
"Yes, now." He gestured toward an empty room.
Jim entered it, Duncan on his heels. "What is it?"
MacLeod folded his arms over his chest and leaned his back against the now closed door. "What are your intentions?"
"What?"
"Why are you here?"
Shaking his head in frustration, Jim replied, "I don't have to answer to you."
"Yes, you do. Diandra sent me here to protect Blair from Zeller, but from where I'm standing, I think you're the bigger threat. One word from you could hurt him worse than all the Zellers in the world. He's been through enough today, so if your intention is to do anything other than apologize to him, you can leave now."
The sentinel opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out, and he slowly shut it. MacLeod honestly thought he was here to harm Blair. Based on his behavior of the past few days, how could he think anything else? Jim swallowed past the lump in his throat and said hoarsely, "I'm not here to hurt him. I'm here to try and find a way to make what I've done up to him."
The Immortal regarded him intently for a few seconds, then stepped away from the door. "Just remember, I won't be the only one you have to answer to if you screw up."
Jim nodded curtly as he exited, suppressing a shudder at the thought of her name. His knee still ached whenever it rained as a result of the last time she was truly pissed at him. He hadn't been so foolish as to accept a challenge of hand to hand combat from her again. Pausing in the hallway, he locked onto his partner's familiar heartbeat then headed in that direction.
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Stepping out of the shower with a large yawn, Diandra wrapped herself in a towel and reached for a hairbrush. Goddess, she was tired. After a pitiful amount of restless sleep on the plane last night, she had spent most of the day at FBI headquarters in various meetings regarding the escaped fugitive, one Linda Bowman. While listening to the Fed brass drone on about profiles and search grids, she'd managed to zone, not once, but three times. She swore the last time Dana had kicked her she'd dislocated her kneecap.
Yanking a T-shirt over her head, Dee paused, inhaling deeply. It smelled like Blair. She must have grabbed his shirt when she'd hastily packed the other morning. Closing her eyes, she opened herself up to their connection, wondering if the three thousand miles between them would make a difference. She was immediately aware of the pulsing gold band of energy that tied her to her companion. She felt a smile cross her face. At least Megan was fine. She'd called the hospital during one of the breaks between meetings, and although Joe had told her she was sleeping, she was doing better.
Dee turned her attention back to what she had been doing, finding the blue-white ribbon that represented her bond with Blair. It was as strong as ever. After projecting a message of love and support toward him, she turned out the bathroom light and headed for bed, despite the fact that it was barely 5 PM, fighting back another yawn. Climbing into bed, she pulled the covers up, once again glad she hadn't sold her Georgetown townhouse when she'd moved to the West Coast.
She had just begun to drift off to sleep when the phone rang. Groping for it, she pulled it under the covers with her. "Pallas."
Her former student's voice came over the line. "Dee, turn on CNN Headline news!"
Sitting up, Dee grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV, flicking quickly to the correct channel. Blair's face filled the screen, his eyes wet with unshed tears, his words rough with emotion. "... However, my desire to impress both my peers and the world at large drove me to an immoral and unethical act. My thesis "The Sentinel" is a fraud. While my paper does quote ancient source material, the documentation proving that James Ellison...actually possesses hyper-senses is fraudulent. Looking back, I can't say that it's a good piece of fiction. I apologize for this deception. My only hope is that I can be forgiven for the pain I've caused those that are close to me. Thank you."
The announcer's voice broke in then, but Dee didn't hear what he was saying. "Oh, god, Lobo... what have you done?"
"Dee? Are you still there?" Dana's words finally penetrated her shock.
Scrambling out of bed, the phone tucked between her chin and her shoulder, Dee began to pull on clothes. "Dana, I can't stay here. I have to go home. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Dee, I understand. I'll come up with something to tell Mulder and Skinner. You be careful, okay? Watch your head."
"Yeah, you too, Estrellita." Clicking the phone off, she tossed it at the bed, then stepped into her shoes, grabbed her coat and headed down the stairs, the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach growing with every moment that passed.
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Jim rounded the nurses' station in ICU, pausing for a moment as he spotted Sandburg talking with a doctor.
As the surgeon walked off, he approached the other man slowly, unsure of what to say.
Blair looked up, the events of the day written plainly on his face, but he managed a slight smile. "Hey. The doc said the surgery went well and the bullet missed major organs on both of them, but, uh, he said they can leave in about a week or two."
Relief washed over Jim. "Thank God."
There was awkward silence for a moment, then Blair said, "So, I heard you guys probably got Zeller."
Jim shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Somebody probably got him. We've still got Bartley to contend with. I don't know which one's worse." He steeled himself for what he had to say next, hoping he would find the right words. "I saw your press conference.
"
Blair's eyes remained fixed on the floor. "Oh, yeah, you saw it?" He glanced up and to the side, anywhere but at Jim. "It's just a book."
"It was your life."
His partner shifted his weight from foot to foot but still didn't look up. "Yeah, it was." His eyes finally met Jim's. "You know, you were right. I mean, uh, I don't know what I was expecting to do with it, and, uh...I mean, where do I get off following you around for three years pretending I was a cop, right?"
"This self-deprecation doesn't suit you, you know. You might have been just an observer, but you were the best cop I've ever met and the best partner I could have ever asked for. You've been a great friend and you've pulled me through some pretty weird stuff." The words poured out of Jim easily, and part of him wondered why he had hesitated to say them before, to tell Blair how much he meant to him.