Notes: Things are getting exciting...

London, England

"Another security guard," Rodney murmured. "John?"

"It was rushed," John stated, also staring down at the wrinkled body of the once middle-aged airport cop. "The demon is rushing, I believe. It no longer has time to leave the airport before moving on."

"What is it looking for?" Rodney wondered.

Jennifer knelt next to the dead man, working mechanically to clock the time of death. Rodney glanced at her, and then turned his eyes to his Sentinel. John was raising an eyebrow at him, a question.

Rodney shrugged. He could explain his friendship with Jennifer later, at the moment there was more important things to worry about. He placed a hand on John's arm, feeling his muscles contract beneath the suit material. "Scent the air, see if you can detect that death smell."

"Death smell?" John murmured. Rodney shook his head, they both knew that he meant the reek the demon seemed to give off, sometimes even Rodney could catch a whiff of it.

The Sentinel leaned a bit into Rodney's hand and raised his face to the air. Rodney felt onlookers' curiosity, but he ignored them. "I smell it," John said suddenly. "Approaching."

Rodney reached for his gun, but John had already retrieved his own and had it pointing in the direction of an approaching agent, leading a haggard female with a slightly ripped flight attendant outfit.

John lowered his gun, scenting the air again. Rodney transferred his arm to the bare skin of John's neck. "What is it?"

"It's not her," John said. "But she has the smell around her."

"Sirs," the agent, pale-faced and obviously green at the job, nodded to them. "This woman says she was held prisoner by the-"

"Thank you, Agent," Rodney interrupted him, giving a significant look towards the crowd.

"Why don't you shoo away the bystanders?" John told him in a much softer voice. "We'll take it from here."

The agent nodded, letting go of the woman's arm abruptly.

"Miss, I'm Sentinel John Sheppard," John said.

For a moment, Rodney wondered why he chose to introduce himself as Sentinel over CIA agent, and then he realized that the flight attendant was shivering, the terror coming off her in waves. Usually, such strong emotions would be the first thing he'd notice about a person, but he'd bonded and his senses were muted unless he chose to bring them up.

At the announcement that John was a Sentinel, the female calmed slightly, smiling shakily. "Sentinel," she said in a small voice. Her name tag read Dusty Mehra.

John nodded. "And this is my Guide, Dr. Rodney McKay. We're here to help you. Can you tell us what happened?"

"I was at the gate for my next flight," Dusty told them. "I was early so there wasn't anyone there yet. I'd opened the gate door to make sure my card would work because it had malfunctioned at my last gate." She took a deep breath. "I saw… a shadow, I think, in the corner of the terminal."

"A shadow?" Rodney frowned. "Or a shade?"

"More like a phantom," Dusty told him. "I stepped towards it. I was curious and then," she paused. "The gate door closed behind me."

"It's okay," John said immediately as Rodney felt the spike in her terror at the memory of being trapped. "No one can hurt you here."

Dusty nodded once. "The phantom disappeared, but then I heard footsteps and a man walked around the corner from where the gate opening was. I asked him what he was doing, told him it was a restricted area and he just… smiled."

"What did this man look like?" Rodney asked.

She shrugged. "Tall, with a hat. A ball-cap. Um, he had a long sleeve shirt and jeans." Dusty stopped suddenly, looking up at them both. "His face was strange. From a distance it looked normal, but… around the eyes and the mouth, it just didn't seem right, you know?"

"What happened next?" John asked.

"The man came up to me with his hand out, like this," she demonstrated, reaching her right hand towards them with the palm facing out. "I looked at it and it was… there was a hole in his hand. Like a mouth."

Rodney and John exchanged a glance. Rodney thought of the 'feeding' marks the demon left, five claw indents and then the central bloody hole where the feeding was centered. "What did you do?"

"I ran," Dusty said. "Past him. He grabbed my arm, but I slipped out of my suit jacket and got past to where the gate opened to the tarmac. I felt him behind me, he thought I was trapped, I think, so I jumped."

"That's a pretty far jump," Rodney said.

Dusty nodded. "But there was a luggage truck, empty, and I landed on that."

"You're very lucky," John told her. "Can you tell us when this happened?"

"It was eleven ten when I made it to the gate," Dusty frowned. "I didn't check the time again until after, at eleven thirty, but, I think I was only at the gate for five minutes or so."

"Thank you for your help," Rodney told her. "We're going to have to ask that you give your statement to another agent."

Dusty nodded, already her panic receding. Rodney had no doubt that her experience had been scary, but the fact that she hadn't actually been hurt went a long way towards her not going into shock.

Jennifer came up to them just as another agent was leading Dusty away. "She okay?"

"She'll be fine," Rodney said. "You have a time of death?"

Jennifer sighed. "Just around eleven fifteen," she said. She waved a hand in the air, as if to say that this whole thing was becoming too much for her. "I hope you catch this bugger soon."

"Us too," John told her.

Jennifer smiled suddenly, glancing between the two of them. "And congratulations on your bonding. I was going to tell you earlier, but I got distracted."

"Thank you," Rodney said, leaning into John's chest slightly.

Jennifer nodded and walked back towards where the body was being carted off. Rodney turned to John. "Both happening at eleven fifteen?"

"Dusty wasn't lying," John told Rodney.

"Jennifer's one of the best, she wouldn't be wrong," Rodney countered.

"So what, then?" John asked. "We have a demon who can be in more than one place at the same time?"

"Or we have more than one demon," Rodney said somberly.

..o..

"Does this have citrus in it?" Rodney asked. The waitress shook her head, but Rodney didn't really trust her considering she'd been giving John gooey eyes all through ordering and delivering their food.

John sniffed the air. "I don't smell any."

Rodney relaxed. At the very least, he trusted his Sentinel. "I should probably get you an epipen to carry, right?"

"That'd be a good idea," John said. "Where is your main one?"

"My briefcase," Rodney nodded to where the non-descript black bag sat by his feet. "I rarely go anywhere without it."

"Got it," John said.

Rodney flashed him a quick smile and took a bite of the lamb, humming his appreciation of its taste.

"So, let's go through the case," John said after a few bites of his own. "The demon or demons, their MO is feeding via draining the life of their victims."

"And they've taken several females," Rodney pointed out. "To an unknown location."

"Possibly to be fed on later," John grimaced. "Or for a different purpose, we don't know."

"We don't know a lot of things," Rodney muttered, just a bit frustrated.

John sighed. "Okay, but why have these demons taken some females and fed on others."

Rodney chewed for a moment, contemplating that. "All the females who've been taken," he said slowly. "Have been leaders. The college student was on the student council, for example."

"Right," John nodded.

"Wait!" Rodney sat up straight. "Alicia Vega, she went missing."

John stared at him, wide eyed. "We didn't even think that she might have been taken." He paused. "But that would have put the demon on the opposite side of Chicago as from the family that had been killed. Which gives proof to our theory of there being more than one."

"You remember at the restaurant," Rodney said. "The manager talked about a group of men laughing over a mask. Strange men."

"That's…" John frowned. "We can't know that for certain."

Rodney's shoulders slumped. "True."

"Maybe," John said slowly. "There's more than one creature because while some continue to look for more women, or whatever else it is they might be seeking, another can take the females they'd already captured back to their base."

"Which would explain why no one has spotted men dragging captured women around in the airports," Rodney remarked dryly. He tapped his fingers on the table and glared at the waitress as she came back to deliver the check.

..o..

Quebec City, Canada

"How many?" Rodney asked. "Have died?"

"You know the answer to that," John said. "Just as much as I do."

He felt useless, staring at the pictures of the bodies they would have to then go see for real. He'd never had a case drag on for so long at the rate this one was.

"Rodney," John murmured. "You're leaking anxiety."

Rodney set his bag roughly down and threw his suit jacket off. "Excuse me for caring."

"I know you care," John said.

Rodney scowled, his mind flashing back to the conversation he'd had not half an hour before on the phone with Caldwell. The senior agent had accused him of ineptitude born of indifference.

"That bastard," Rodney growled.

John's growl echoed his. "If he was anywhere near me when he'd said that, he would not be standing right now, you know that."

Rodney shook his head, unwilling to be comforted yet. "You don't understand. I've been facing demons since the sixth grade, okay? I… I've never failed." He scrubbed his face. "I've never failed so many people."

"Rodney," John said and it was the sharpness in his voice combined with the tug of their bond that had Rodney turned to face the Sentinel. John's hazel eyes were hard, flashing with reflected pain. "Don't tell me I don't understand. I mourn for the death of every single man, woman, and child who we've lost on this case."

Rodney's shoulders collapsed down and he nodded weakly. "I know. I didn't mean to imply that you didn't." He barked a bitter laugh. "I told you I wouldn't be good at this."

John's face softened slightly. "It's okay. You were lashing out and I was a convenient target." He moved closer and tugged Rodney in and Rodney went. "We will find these demons and we will make them pay for the pain they have caused this planet."

Rodney nodded, his throat tight. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, letting himself sink into the bond between them. It was a comfort for the both of them and he felt John relax too.

"I didn't even know I was missing you until you were here," Rodney confessed into the silence. "I've lived with this hole inside me for so long that I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

"You're not alone," John murmured. "Not anymore. Never again, Rodney, I promise you."

Rodney leaned back just enough to be able to meet John's eyes and the conviction he saw in them made his knees weak. "You too."

John smiled and Rodney returned it hesitantly, then more broadly as John kissed him gently on the chin.

..o..

"This is going to upset you," John stated as they approached the location of the crime scene.

"Not just me," Rodney murmured.

"I was military," John reminded him and then shook his head before Rodney could argue. "But yes, it does and will upset me. If at any point it ceases to upset me, I will retire."

"Good policy," Rodney said, pleased.

John didn't get the chance to answer before that as they arrived at the small alley in the backstreets of Quebec City.

Rodney felt the air go still around them and he frowned. There were none of the usual agents or cops around, not even Jennifer was there examining the bodies. No gawkers… no anyone.

"John," Rodney whispered urgently.

John didn't answer and when he turned to look Rodney saw no one. He took a startled breath, but told himself not to panic. Almost nervously, he felt for his bond with John and sighed in relief as he realized it was still there.

Closing his eyes, Rodney pulled at the bond, trying to determine the location of his Sentinel. The bond thrummed back at him, worry and anticipation coming from the other end.

Rodney opened his eyes to the sight of a dark-colored Apolomado falcon. It blink golden eyes at him and then the soft touch of familiarity overwhelmed him.

"John," Rodney said, reaching out, except his hand had become a paw and then he was looking at the falcon from the ground, white fur swishing in the breeze.

The falcon hopped closer, bringing its beak forward to gently tap at Rodney's muzzle.

The world blinked.

Rodney shook his head, trying to clear the mist. He saw John, human John, in front of him, his gun tracking a dark shape. Without any thought as to what had just happened, Rodney jogged to him and put a hand in the small of his Sentinel's back, grounding him.

John's shoulders sagged against him briefly. "Rodney," he said with naked relief in his voice.

"Are you okay?" Rodney asked.

"Am I okay?" John glanced at him, though he still kept most of his attention on the dark spirit. "That thing consumed you, Rodney. You vanished."

His Sentinel's voice broke briefly. Rodney rubbed a small circle in his back, a comfort. "I think it took me to the spirit world," he confessed. "I saw your spirit guide."

John froze. Seeing the opposite pair's spirit guide indicated a very deep connection, one that shouldn't be possible just a couple days after first bonding. "Oh."

Rodney grinned and turned his own attention to the ghost. "It's a shade. Attracted here by the grief of the family's death, I'll bet."

"I tried to shoot it," John paused, hefting his gun higher as the shade moved in their direction. He shifted so he was slightly in front of Rodney. "But then it swallowed you and I didn't want to risk…"

"Hey, I'm okay," Rodney said. He thought that perhaps the only reason John hadn't gone feral was that their bond hadn't detected distress enough to push John over the edge.

"How do we kill it?" John asked, his relief giving way to anger at the shade.

Rodney shook his head. "We can banish it," he told his Sentinel. "But there is no way to kill a shade."

John opened his mouth as if to argue, but then a voice sounded all around them. "S'il vous plait. Laissez-moi tranquille."

"Nous sommes désolé," Rodney told it. "Nous ne comprenons pas."

"Va-t'en!" the shade cried. "Va-t'en!"

"Du calme!" Rodney yelled back. "Nous sommes là pour vous aide."

The shade wavered, uncertain if Rodney was telling the truth, that they really just were there to help. Rodney chose the opportunity to grasp at the energy around it and forcibly push it down, a technique he thought was kind of like making someone very angry sit down.

It was a calming method, of sorts, and here it faded the spirit slightly. Besides him, John shifted again, obviously confused as to what was going on. "Rodney?"

"Put your gun down," Rodney told him. "It's not going to do anything here."

John looked at him for a moment, then nodded. He holstered his gun, locking the safety with a practiced movement. "I don't like this."

Rodney scowled at him. "We're a team," he reminded his Sentinel. "Sometimes, you will shoot things or sense danger and be badass about it. Other times, I'll use my own abilities to save the day, okay?"

John blinked at him and Rodney shook his head, sighing. "Bonne nuit," he told the spirit calmly. "Reposez en paix."

The shade cried an inhuman screech, but Rodney had already pushed his energy against it, containing it with his strength and just a touch of his goodwill and the shade vanished completely.

"I'm not weak," Rodney said as they both stared at the spot where the shade had been that now contained the bodies of the family that had been killed. "I'm may be your Guide, but I'm not totally submissive to you."

"I never thought you were," John told him. He turned so that he and Rodney were facing each other completely and put a hand on Rodney's cheek. "But your safety is and always will be my primary concern."

Rodney melted a bit. "I know. I'm sorry that thing took me, if just for a moment, but John…" he leaned forward and gave his Sentinel a soft kiss. "I impressed that you didn't go ballistic on me."

"Trust me," John murmured. "It was hard to hold back."

Rodney nodded. He could feel the tension still just under his Sentinel's skin. He stepped closer and let John tuck his face into the crook of his neck. Slowly he stroked his hair and mumbled softly under his breath, centering both of them back into their bond.

"How are your levels?" Rodney asked, suddenly worried.

"Fine," John shrugged against Rodney. "You speak French."

"I'm Canadian," Rodney told him.

John lifted his head, hazel eyes practically glowing. "That's kind of hot."

Rodney gaped, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or not, when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

"Rodney?" Jennifer called. Rodney turned, letting his Sentinel maintain full body contact as he did so.

Their medical examiner and several other agents stood at the front of the alley, looking extremely confused.

"What happened?" one of the agents asked. "When did you get here?"

Rodney frowned. "There was an anomaly." It made sense, he thought, that the shade had trapped the others too. Only John and Rodney, with their abilities, had been able to get out of its hold for long enough to hear it speak.

"It's gone now," John said. "We should look at the Porter family."

Jennifer went immediately to the bodies. She'd been Rodney's friend too long to be stopped by freak occurrences. One of the younger agents stopped in front of John and Rodney. "Alison Porter is nowhere to be found," he said.

Rodney sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

"We'll find her," John promised. "And the others."

The agent smiled, the newness in his eyes a testament to his belief in John's words. Rodney closed his eyes, the last remnants of the shade's energy passing over him like a whispered word. "Mort."