"Well?"

"Not yet but he's at least headed in the right direction."

Dr. Hanson steepled her fingers below her chin as she peered at the three men sitting in front of her desk. "I am more hopeful now than I was an hour ago." Leaning back in her chair, she focused her attention on the silent ATF captain. "How did you manage to turn Standish around so quickly? What did you say to him?"

"Exactly what he needed to hear; the truth. Apparently the damn Guide school he goes to is still teaching the politically correct version of Bonding."

Blair sighed and slumped wearily in his chair. "Yeah, a lot of the private Guide and Sentinel schools do. The type of people that can afford to send their kids to those schools find it hard to accept that some things are simply beyond their control."

"Damn irresponsible." Larabee growled his opinion then turned back to the doctor. "Everyone kept telling Standish he had to Bond with the Sentinel but no one came right out and told him what would happen if he didn't."

"We didn't want to guilt him into it."

"Better that then the guilt he would have felt later when the kid died."

"Maybe." Blair stood and began pacing, his hands gesturing in the air. "Man, this is all so incredible! I mean, a kidnapped Guide Bonding with a homeless Sentinel, both in their teens, two Sentinels Bonding..."

"We. Did not. Bond."

"Yeah, yeah." Blair waved the denial away, his back to the room. "Just like you haven't come back on line."

Larabee lurched to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger. "I told you...!"

"How loud am I talking right now, Sentinel?"

"What do you...?" Realization dawned and Chris dropped heavily into his chair.

Blair turned back to the room, his expression one of sympathy and guilt as he spoke in a normal volume. "I'm sorry man. I really didn't think a surface Bond would bring you back on line. Believe me, I would never have asked you to..."

"Yes, you would have." Chris rubbed his hands across his face and let out a resigned sigh. "And if I had known, I would still have done it. Those two deserve a chance and if they make it then it's all worth it. But damn, I'm going to feel like a fool going to a mixer at my age."

Dr. Hanson began to sympathize with the ATF captain but her attention was caught by Ellison who was staring fixedly at his partner.

"Blair? Is there something else Denver needs to know?"

Sandburg shifted his feet nervously as he forced himself to meet the questioning gazes of the Sentinels. "I ...uhh...won't know for sure without tests but...there may be a slight...problem...with Larabee Bonding again."

"Whoa! Settle down and let him finish." Jim forced Chris back down into his chair but remained standing himself; keeping his body partially in front of his Guide.

"It's just that Ezra reaffirmed his Bond with Vin while he was still linked to you. Right now all of his attention is focused on Vin but it is possible that a Bond still exists with you."

"But I would know!"

"Just like you knew you were on line?"

'Fine! But it's just a working Bond, right? We can break it and I can find a real Guide back in Denver."

"Ah...maybe?"

"Damn it! You little...!" Larabee surged to his feet once more but Ellison grabbed his shoulders and halted his charge. "Back off!"

"I told you what would happen if you touched him." Jim growled as he felt the Dark Sentinel rise in response to the threat to his guide. He fought against it but Chris' anger was contagious.

"Get your hands off me! I've had it with his 'maybes' and 'tests'."

"That's enough both of you! Now every one sit down. It's alright Eric, just a couple of Alpha Male Throwbacks blowing off steam." Dr. Hanson reassured her guide as he fairly burst through the door of the office. Eric shot a reproachful glare at the struggling men before taking his accustomed place at his Sentinel's side with his hand resting on her shoulder.

"How are they doing? Is Standish getting some sleep?"

Eric shook his head and made a vague motion with his free hand. Dr. Hanson frowned in concentration for a moment and then smiled. "Well, at least he is resting."

Chris looked from the silent Guide to his Sentinel and realized that they had the rare type of Bond that allowed them to actually communicate with their minds. His suspicions were confirmed when Dr. Hanson repeated out loud what she had just learned.

"Apparently Ezra refuses to lie down in the same bed as Tanner but he is at least sitting next to him propped up with some pillows. Give him a few more minutes and he'll probably be asleep despite the 'appalling firmness' of our mattresses."

The small bit of humor was enough to ease the tension in the room and everyone returned to their chairs. Chris broke the silence first with a heavy sigh.

"So, I guess I'm stuck here for now."

"Look man, I really am sorry. This whole 'Sentinel Bonding to Sentinel' and two Sentinels Bonding to one Guide is totally knew territory for me. I'm just concerned that trying to break apart from Standish right now might endanger the link he has with Vin. You might not feel the connection but it is definitely there and it is strong."

"But while I'm waiting aren't we running the risk of it getting stronger."

This time it was Blair who sighed as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I really. Honestly. Don't. Know. I can talk with the Shaman that is currently teaching at Rainer and he will probably want to see all of you but even he may not have an answer."

"Well, it's worth a shot." Chris stood and stretched a kink out of his back before nodding a farewell to the doctor and her Guide. "Guess I'll go check on the boys and then find myself a couch to sleep on."

"Actually I made sure that the room next to theirs is vacant. As bad as they may be, the beds here are definitely better than the couches."

"Thanks but right now even a plank between two saw horses would sound damn good." Chris exchanged a parting glare with Ellison and pointedly ignored Sandburg as he left the room.

"C'mon Chief, these Sentinel ears are picking up the call of a king size bed and a nice, allergen free, comfort form pillow."

"Oh man, I heard that. I hope you're driving cause I don't think I can stay awake another minute." Blair waved a bone weary 'good night' to Dr. Hanson and her Guide and allowed his own Sentinel to lead him to their vehicle. He actually did manage to stay awake long enough to chide Ellison one more time for forgetting to tell him about the visiting Sentinels but after that, he was well and truly out.


"OK, try opening your eyes now. Is it still too bright?"

Vin slowly cracked open his left eye. When he was satisfied that the light was not going to blind him like before, he blinked open his right eye with a raspy sigh of relief.

"Good. Looks like all the dials are working again." David Grayson smiled and gave the young Sentinel a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. "Practice will gain you better control and Ezra will keep you from zoning or pull you back when you do."

Vin shifted uncomfortably in his bed at the reminder of his Bond with the wealthy Guide. Not that he could actually ever completely forget it but there were whole minutes when he was able to not actively think about it. And those were minutes he had come to greatly appreciate. A few stolen minutes when he could stop thinking about the weird and totally unbelievable changes in his life. How could it have been just four days ago that he was lying in an alley thinking about dying? And now look at him; warm, fed and bathed, sleeping in a clean bed and Bonded to a high-end Guide. No, wait. What was that word again? Oh yeah, Guide Prime. Which apparently made him a Sentinel Prime by default. The whole thing was whacked. A part of him kept waiting for the dream to end but it never did.

"Vin." David's tenor voice with its Northern accent intruded on the teenager's wandering thoughts. David was a Guide Prime and in the Panther Clan was actually second only to Blair Sandburg in strength. In fact, Blair had a theory that if he and Ellison had not been a Dark Pair then Taylor and Grayson would have been the Clan leaders. Personally David was quite happy being second as it allowed him more time to work with those members who needed extra help; like Standish and Tanner. "Vin, I know that this is a lot to take in all at once but trust me, it will get better. Just give it some time, OK?"

"Yeah well, don't reckon I got a lot of choice, do I?" Vin lifted his left hand from the covers, giving the IV line attached a little shake. "Still hooked up to a juice bag and just walking to the bathroom leaves my legs feeling like that Jell-O the nurses keep bringing me."

David grinned and began digging through his backpack. "Well, if you're getting tired of Jell-O for desert, how about a Snickers bar?"

Vin's eyes widened and his mouth began watering at just the thought of it. How long had it been since he'd had a candy bar? Several months at least.

"Yeah, I thought so. I haven't met a Sentinel yet that didn't have a major sweet tooth. Gary loves these things so I always try to keep at least one on hand." Grayson held out the bar with a wide grin on his face. "Kind of like the Sentinel equivalent of the Scooby Snack."

Unconsciously Vin raised the settings on both his taste and sense of smell as he took his first bite. The assortment of flavors fairly exploded in his mouth and he was carried away on a tidal wave of chocolate, caramel and peanut bliss.

"….back. Listen to my voice. Focus Vin. You can do it. Just concentrate on the sound and follow it back."

"Wha..?" Vin blinked in confusion at the crowd suddenly gathered around his hospital bed. Ezra stood closest with one hand resting on his arm while David stood just behind him looking anxiously across his shoulder. David's Sentinel was next in the group with Jim Ellison and his Guide Blair Sandburg at the foot of the bed. Chris Larabee stood at the side of the bed opposite Ezra with his hands wrapped so tightly around the rails his knuckles were bone white.

"Thank gawd." Ezra slumped in visible relief while giving Vin's arm a reassuring squeeze. In fact, everyone in the room seemed to breath in at the same time and relax tense postures. Everyone except Vin who didn't have a clue as to what was going on and Chris who still had a death grip on the bed.

"What were you thinking, giving him a candy bar without his Guide present?" The growl behind the words made Chris' question sound more like an accusation and David raised his hands apologetically.

"I …"

"It was a mistake Larabee. He didn't deep Zone the kid on purpose." Taylor's own words held the bite of a Sentinel defending his Guide as he rested one arm across David's shoulders.

"Really I .."

"It was a pretty stupid mistake if you ask me." Chris' lips twisted in a sneer of contempt.

"Yes, I should have…"

"Well nobody's asking you." Taylor pulled his guide back half a step and moved his body forward as a protective shield.

"Hey!" David shoved free of his Sentinel while raising his voice to put a stop to the escalating verbal sparring match. "Yes, I made a mistake. Yes, I didn't think about the effect it might have had and yes, I am very sorry that the candy caused him to Zone so deeply." Running a shaking hand through his dark hair, David drew in deep breath and tried to calm himself. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I've never worked with a newly Bonded Sentinel who is only 14 years old and I made a mistake. It won't happen again; I promise."

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room until Vin shifted on the bed and cleared his throat before hesitantly speaking. "Uh… does this mean I don't get to eat the rest of the candy bar?"


To put it mildly, Chris Larabee, Captain of the Denver ATF Team Seven and former Senior Sentinel Prime was not happy. To be perfectly blunt and honest, he was pissed as hell and fighting the urge to pull his gun. While this was not exactly an unusual or even rare state of mind for Chris, the cause of this particular bout of incendiary anger was unprecedented.

"A Zone? What do you mean I Zoned?"

Nathan swallowed convulsively and pressed his back tight against his Sentinel's chest. Normally Guide Prime Jackson was not a timid man. Serving as Team Seven's field medic for two years had taught him the values of asserting himself as well as giving him a sense of pride in his abilities both as a Guide and a medic. Nathan also knew for a fact that he had nothing to fear from his boss or any other person; with or without his Sentinel backing him up. But facing Larabee's burning green glare and hearing the questions snarled passed gritted teeth, was giving him the urge to stand behind his Sentinel instead of in front.

Picking up on his guide's distress, Josiah Sanchez rested one hand on Nathan's shoulder while his other hand moved suggestively towards his holster. His own lips parted showing the white of his teeth and a deep, base growl rumbled in his chest.

"Whoa! Whoa! Let's not get carried away here!" Wilmington leaped forward, holding his hands up as he pleaded for cooler tempers. "Josiah, you know Chris is like a toothless old junkyard dog; all piss and bark with no bite."

"Buuuck…"

Wilmington turned a beatific smile on his boss. "Just admit it ol' dog, you wouldn't kill the messenger."

"Kill, no. Hurt…"

"I'm sorry Chris but that's what all the facts point to." Nathan spoke as he patted Josiah's hand and pushed calming mental vibes as hard and fast as he could form them. "Both your respiration and your heart rate had dropped below normal and your pupils were unresponsive. You were eating Tai for lunch so I'm guessing it might have been your sense of taste. Maybe you were subconsciously trying to pick out a certain spice…"

"I. Did. Not. Zone." Larabee's voice was even and precisely controlled. It was obvious from the whiteness of his knuckles and the pinched look to his eyes that he was fighting his own instinct to physically lash out in denial of the truth. "I went offline three years, two month and fourteen days ago; three weeks after my Guide, who happened to be my wife was buried along with my son."

Nathan eased forward and cautiously rested a hand on Chris' arm. He could feel the slight tremble from tense muscles and regretted the anguish he was causing his boss who was also a good friend. "I'm sorry, but Sentinels that manage to survive the death of their Guides often go off line for long periods of time; but that doesn't mean the ability goes away. You physically are a Sentinel and the only way to lose a sense would be to actually lose a corresponding part of your body. As the saying goes, offline is a state of mind."

Chris jerked free of Nathan's hand and paced across the living room area of the hotel suite he had all to himself. The Panther Clan of Cascade had been generous in arranging a suite for each of the Denver Bonded pairs and their boss. This was their third day away from the Sentinel Safe House and despite the undeniable comfort and class of their current accommodations, all of them were ready to get back to Denver and back to their own homes. The only thing or rather person, keeping them in Cascade was Chris and the strange Bond with the teen Guide and Sentinel. A Bond that appeared to be growing stronger instead of weaker.

"I'm going to call Sandburg. This shit has gone on long enough. He's had plenty of time for his 'shamanic consultation.' I'm sick and tired of sitting around with my thumb up my butt. I want some answers and I want them now."

"Now we unfold the paper. Notice how all the lines intersect at some point on the paper. Just like one fold leads to another in discovering the crane hidden in the paper, so too one action leads to another in discovering the purpose of one's life."

Chris sighed as he stared at the paper held in the gnarled hand of the Shaman Miyazaki. "OK, well that was about as useful as tits on a bull." Raising his eyes to meet the calm and slightly amused stare of the Shaman, Chris fought to hold back his frustration and anger. "Look, let's pretend that I'm not into the whole mystical, fing-shay, karmic life philosophy crap. Let's imagine that I'm just a lowly, unimaginative ATF captain and Sentinel who really wants to get on the next plane to Denver. Can you tell me how to do that in fifty words or less that I can understand?"

"Certainly Captain Larabee; call the airport and buy yourself a ticket." The 'you dumb fuck' at the end of the sentence went unspoken but the Shaman's steady gaze said it loud enough.

Chris snarled and backed up a step from the irritating Japanese Shaman/Guide. He was several inches taller than both Miyazaki and his Sentinel Toshiro but despite their size and advanced age he knew better than to even appear threatening to either man. There was a sense of power surrounding the pair that literally raised the hairs on the back of his neck. "Look, I know it's not that simple, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here staring at a wrinkled piece of paper! Tell me what to do so that I can buy the damn ticket!"

"Ah, you mean in regards to the young Sentinel and Guide that you have Bonded with?"

Chris gritted his teeth and turned his back on the infuriating old man. Now he knew why Ellison had insisted he leave his gun at the hotel.

"Mi-chan, have mercy on the dumb fuck and tell him what to do so we can go eat; I'm starving." The softly spoken words of the Shaman's gray-haired Sentinel were so refreshingly blunt and to the point that Chris found it impossible to feel insulted. He gave the older Sentinel a nod of appreciation and was rewarded with a knowing smirk.

Miyazaki shrugged his shoulders. "Hmmph. I'm old and wise; I should be allowed to indulge once in a while."

Toshiro smiled fondly at his Guide and rested a hip on the conference table beside him. "You've had about 20 young Guides jumping through metaphysical hoops for two solid weeks; indulge anymore and your head won't fit through the doors of a hanger."

"Fine then." Miyazaki's nimble fingers quickly refolded the paper into the shape of crane but there was something slightly off with its neck. "Ah, see what rushing did? It spoiled the final design." He looked up and met Chris' eyes, his gaze serious and commanding. "We are dealing with something that neither I nor any of my colleagues have ever encountered before. I have spread the word to my fellow Shaman and even as we speak, all across the world every document that has ever been written regarding the Bonding of Sentinels and Guides is being re-examined. There are literally thousands of such writings in hundreds of different languages; the search will take time."

"Time that I don't have!"

"Then buy yourself the time."

"How? Transfer to the Cascade ATF? Not happening. I need to get back to Denver."

"Who said you had to go back to Denver alone?"

"I won't be alone, my team is…." Chris stared in dawning horror at the smirking Shaman. "Oh no. No way in hell! I am not taking a couple of kids back to Denver with me. What would I do with them? Where would they stay? What would they do while I'm at work?"

"They will do what they must just the same as you. They will go to school, they will learn to control their gifts and in their spare time find extremely creative ways to get into trouble." Miyazaki unfolded and carefully refolded the crane as he spoke. "In other words, they will be typical teenagers."

"Have you actually met them? In no way are they 'typical' teenagers. And why does that thing now have two heads?"

Miyazaki's dark eyes sparkled with mirth as he held up the mutated crane. "Is it not an old American saying that two heads are better than one?"