~oOo~

"Hey, here he comes. You guys ready?" Saturday night was the final game of the season, and the football team took their usual position – centre stage on the oval while other teams practiced on the sidelines. While Lucas hadn't yet officially tried out for any team, he'd began running laps, working on his own fitness and building the confidence to take the leap to finally join in.

As he paced his way around the track Lucas's mind wandered. Sentinels, guides and animal spirits. Logically they didn't make a lot of sense, but he couldn't refute or deny the fact that he'd seen them upfront and personal and, unlike Jim was finding the idea pretty cool.

"Okay, ready?" Lucas didn't hear the shout and didn't register what it meant until he found himself sliding across the track under the full weight of a six-foot-two, one hundred and seventy pound line-backer.

He did, however, register the gravel digging into his back and the pressure of a football spike bearing down on his thigh.

"Oh hey, man. Sorry about that. I didn't see you there." The tip of a single spike dug further into Lucas's thigh as the errant footballer player heavily pushed himself off Lucas's body. "Accidents happen so easily out here. You really gotta keep an eye out."

"Dude, good catch." Jenkins pulled to a sliding stop, ensuring he kept the momentum going until his boot came in contact with Lucas's side. He shifted his stance quickly, adding sincerity to his voice to placate the football coach who settled in beside him. "Dude, are you hurt?" Jenkins asked with manufactured concern.

"Son, are you okay?" The coach knelt down on the track, noting Lucas's torn shirt and his scratched and bleeding skin. "You think you can stand?" He eyeballed his team who were now jostling to get a better look. "How many times do I have to tell you jug-heads to keep the ball on the field!" he snapped. "Five laps and then hit the showers," he ordered. "And then ready yourselves to get your butts kicked."

Jenkins caught the ball being casually tossed in his direction. "Hey man, sorry about the accident." He winked across at a teammate. "Sincerely, really sorry. We'll try and be more careful in the future."

Lucas pulled his arm free the coach, drawing himself to his feet under his own power. He would have quite happily ripped Jenkins a new one, but the choice wasn't his. He had a responsibility now – a responsibility to Blair to make sure he kept his nose clean and out of trouble.

The coach waved the team away. "Laps now!" he snapped. "Son, I think you should let me take a look at your back."

Lucas again pulled free from the coach, who had apparently decided to set up a one-man first aid station on the side of the field. Sensing the coach was a man used to getting his way, he gave him a short, sharp nod. "I'll go see the nurse," he muttered, moving away.

"I'll send one of the team with you. Jenkins!" The coach waved Adam back. "Go with him and make sure he's okay."

Jenkins smiled. "Sure thing, Coach." He moved in step beside Lucas. "You really gotta be more careful, man. Football can be a dangerous sport."

"So can walking alone," Lucas replied. He turned to face Jenkins, his face giving everythinghe was thinking away. "You'd be amazed how many accidents can happen when you're walking by yourself."

Jenkins fell out of step. For the first time in his life he actually felt that he'd bitten off more than he could chew. He knew the new kid was tough, but now got the distinct feeling that Wilder maybe a little psycho. The look he'd just received wasn't normal. Wilder wasn't normal, and something had to be done before the psycho came out to play.

Jenkins let Lucas continue on, and doubled back toward his friends. "Hey, is Kelly still working in the administration office during lunch break?"

"Yeah, she's still on her 'community help' kick," Christopher Niles answered. "I gotta tell you, though, it's wearing pretty thin. I haven't had a decent lunchtime blow-job in ages."

Adam ignored the comment. His mind was elsewhere. "Come on, guys," he said. "I got a plan."

~oOo~

Jim yawned as he moved down the hall toward the break room. He'd been working on the Donaldson embezzlement case all morning, and was in desperate need of coffee. The case was dull and monotonous and requiring too much in the way of paperwork for his liking. He poured himself a coffee, already grumbling because knew it was going to be stale. "Jesus Christ," he said with a start. The coffee spilled over the rim of his cup, burning his hand. "What the hell are you doing here? You just took twenty years off my life, cat." His eyes shot around the room. At least he was alone. "Shouldn't you be off harassing Naomi?" he asked, but the penny dropped the moment the last word left his lips. "Blair!" He dropped his cup in the sink and made for the door.

The cat was quick, blocking the sentinel's path, making him trip. It jumped onto Jim's chest, giving a low purr as it nudged his chin. A sense of calm settled and Jim instinctively knew Blair was fine. His guide was safe; his little boy was in no danger.

"You alright down there, Jim?" H casually stepped over Ellison. "I know this is the break room, babe, but I don't think this is what they had in mind when they put the sign on the door."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim grumbled, getting to his feet and brushing himself down. "Why the hell were you here?" he muttered.

"I'm just getting a cup of coffee," Henri replied defensively.

"Not you." Jim snatched the coffee from Henri's hand. "And how many times do I have to tell you to keep your mitts off my cup?"

Henri backed off. Ellison was in one of his moods, and he had no intention of going there. "It's all cool, brother," he said.

"Yeah, all cool," Jim replied. "And it would be much cooler if the pets would stayed caged."

Henri tentatively patted Jim's shoulder. "Sure thing, Jim," he said. He shook his head, wondering why Simon had given Ellison the Donaldson case. Ellison and paperwork went together like a two-year-old and a loaded gun. It just didn't bode for anyone, especially those in close proximity.

~oOo~

Blair was perfectly fine, chatty and happy and acting as if he didn't have a care in the world. Strike one for the cat theory on that front,Jim thought. He turned his attention to Lucas, who was clearing the dinner plates and rinsing them in the sink. Lucas was harder to gauge. While he was slowly piecing together what made the kid tick, there were a lot of puzzle pieces yet to slot into place. His detective eyes continued to watch Lucas as he put his sense of sentinel smell to the test. "Okay Sugar Ray, what's up?" he asked, when he homed in on an unusual odour.

Lucas looked up from the sink and scrutinized Jim with the same level of intensity being levelled at him.

"What makes you think something's up?"

"Because you're doing a better two-step shuffle than Bo Jangles ever could."

"You overdose on doughnuts today?" Lucas asked. He went back to rinsing the dishes. "I'm fine. Picture of teenage health."

"Right, so this sudden bout of premature aging which has me wondering if I'm gonna have to max out my credit card on old man walking aids, is nothing for me to be concerned about?"

Lucas shrugged his shoulders. "I overtaxed my muscles on the running track today. No big deal."

"And the blood?"

"What blood?"

"The blood I can smell on you?"

Lucas flung the dishtowel that was in his hand over his shoulder and turned his back completely on Jim. "You know I thought living with a cop was going to be bad enough, but I'm starting to get the suspicion that living with a dude with freaky superhuman powers is gonna be like hanging out in a fish bowl."

"With me the big fish and you the guppy, my boy." Jim pushed back his chair and made his way over to sink. "Shall we see what's hiding under door number one?"

"Did you get something bwoken?" Blair asked, following closely behind Jim and winding his arms around his father's leg when Jim stopped walking.

"No, Sport, I haven't broken anything. Like I'm trying to tell nosey parker here, I'm fine."

"Shirt," Jim ordered.

Lucas considered protesting, but the dogged expression on Jim's face made him reconsider. He wasn't in the mood for an argument. It would only end up where it always did – a lost cause. He rolled his eyes and lifted his shirt. "Satisfied?"

Jim's eyes drifted over the gravel rash which covered most of Lucas left side. "How'd this happen?"

"Just a little football game that strayed off the field."

"By accident or on purpose?"

"You think I'm already making enemies and influencing people?" Lucas responded.

"If they've pissed you off, then yes," Jim answered honestly.

"What be pissed off?" Blair asked, now swinging himself from one of Jim's legs to the other.

Jim looked down at his son. He still hadn't got the knack of remembering to adjust his language for three-year-old ears. "A sentence you should never repeat," he said.

"You always said that," Blair huffed. "How comed I not allowed to said gwow'd up wo'ds?"

Lucas let his shirt drop down. "Cause you're a midget, Squirt, that's why." He looked Jim in the eye. "Inquisition over?"

"For the moment." Jim flicked the dishtowel from Lucas' shoulder. "Why don't you go and soak in the tub for a while? It will make it easier for me to clean the rest of that out."

Jim tracked Lucas to the door, only diverting his attention to Blair when Blair started to use his feet as stepping stones, apparently escaping from a crocodile now swimming on the kitchen floor. "Hey, Munchkin," he said, running his hand over the top of Blair's head. "If you want to do something grown up, think you could take the place mats off the table and put them away in the cupboard?"

"Ah-ha." Blair nodded his head. "But the cwocodile might eat me fuhst."

Jim swung Blair up and dumped him on the kitchen chair. "Here you go, Peter Pan. Crocodiles can't climb chairs." He gave one of Blair's curls a quick tweak. "I'll be back in a minute." Leaving Blair to both the crocodile and his chore, Jim caught up with Lucas just as he reached the landing on the first floor. "Lucas, if anyone is hassling you at school, I'd like to know. Maybe I could help."

"You mean you'd shoot 'em for me?" Lucas quipped.

"It's always an option," Jim replied with a small smile. It fell from his face as he registered the look in Lucas's eyes. Something wasup at school. "Seriously, kiddo, everything okay?"

"Jim I'm not being hassled and even if I was, I'm more than capable of handling the problem by myself."

"I know you are, and that's my point. You don't have to handle things by yourself. I'm not just here for decoration, you know."

It had been a long time since Lucas had had someone actually care about what was going on his life. The feeling was weird and foreign. While he knew in his heart he'd always be the stranger looking in through the window, the dream of the front door opening and welcoming him in to share the protection and warmth of the family inside would always remain. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Jim made his way back into the kitchen a black shadow crossed his path. "So cat, did I do good?" There was bump against his thigh, followed by a deep, throaty purr. "I take that as a yes," Jim said as the shadow disappeared.

~oOo~

"Ellison." Jim snatched up the phone on the first ring. The file on the Donaldson case was still strewn all over his desk, taxing not only his detective skills, but his patience as well.

"Detective James Ellison?"

"That's me. What can I do for you?"

"It's Patrick McDermott. We met when you enrolled in Lucas in school."

"Yeah, I remember," Jim replied. "Is there a problem?"

"There has been an altercation involving Lucas and several other boys. I am in the process of contacting the parents of all those involved and I would appreciate it if you could come down to the school as soon as possible."

"What kind of altercation? Is Lucas okay?"

"Detective, I'd rather discuss this face to face. Are you able to make it down to the school?"

Jim snatched his jacket from the back of his chair. "I'll be there in twenty."

~oOo~