Disclaimer: I don't own them, etc.
Rating: PG-13 / 12A
Series: The "Ellison Chronicles" series, sequel to the "Rebirth" series.
Warnings: Crossover universe - The Sentinel/Highlander.
Summary: Blair Sandburg is more than just a Guide…
Notes: You probably don't need to read the first series to read this, but it helps. While Methos and the rest of the Highlander gang aren't part of this story, they will play a part in future.
Storm Warnings
By NorthernStar
Jim knew about the sword.
Of course, he didn't know about the sword, but he knew Blair had it. But when your roommate has ceremonial spears and Bronze Age axes and a two foot fertility statue with a foot long erect penis that he claimed his mother had given him for the 21st birthday, you didn't tend to question the vaguely normal things.
He could hear the soft sounds of Blair polishing the blade, directly below him, in the tiny cubby hole Blair happily called his room. Jim had soon learned the ritual of cleaning the razor sharp steel had a similar affect on Blair as his meditation – it seemed to clear his head, focus his thoughts. And right now, Blair needed some focus.
His friend had been on edge all week, even though Jim's work hadn't been out of the ordinary, his senses were top notch and Blair had no term papers to deal with or submit himself. Yet he'd spent a lot of time out of the loft and away from Major Crimes, tense if he was forced to file reports at the station or go out on a call with Jim. He'd even turned down the opportunity to play poker round Joel's with the guys, something he usually jumped at.
But then…
Jim turned over in bed.
But it was nothing he could pin-point, nothing tangible, just…something…
After a while, he heard Blair leave his room and boot up his laptop and shortly afterwards, a pleasant numbness took over the sounds and he realised Blair had turned on the white noise generators installed around the loft. Sandburg was probably going to study all night. Again.
Jim closed his eyes and let the quiet empty his mind. He thought he heard the door click shut but it was vague and hazy and sleep carried him away a half second later.
***
Cussing and the sound of water rushing woke him. Jim opened his eyes to pitch blackness, a world of complete dark. Jim sat up in bed, listening to the shower running in the bathroom and underneath the pounding water, Blair's heart racing. With his sight curtailed, his hearing sharpened, skittering on the edge of zoning out the other senses. He could hear the slap of water on skin and smell the burst of copious amounts of sickly smelling shower gel and fruity shampoo. It hung so strongly in the air that Jim could taste the bitter soap at the back of his throat.
And there…layered under all those sensations, the scent of blood and the sharp tang of electricity.
Jim shot out of bed, using his touch and hearing to guide him to the stairs. At the top step, his sensitive eyes picked up the light from a single candle on the table, rendering the total night to murky gloom. Out the window, there was nothing. The electricity was out across the block.
Jim began down the stairs and half way down he saw Blair coming out of the bathroom, shrugging into a fresh shirt, hair wet and damp. He picked the candle up and took it into his room. A few seconds later, Jim caught the sounds of something being rubbed against skin and the scent of deodorant. The smell was strong but even that did not offset the stench of static and blood and…
…arousal.
That scent pulled him up sharp. "Blair?"
Blair came back into the room, the familiar curly head lifting blindly towards the sound of Jim's voice. His pupils were huge in the darkness.
"Sorry I woke you, man." He said. The words were light, but Jim thought he could hear tension in there…something more… "Had a major munchies attack so I went to that all night store over on twenty-third, half way back the whole street goes out." He put his hands up, fingers rigid and spiky, playing out the scene even if he couldn't see it. "Fffzzz. Total chaos. Some sorta freak electrical storm."
Jim frowned. Was that what he could smell? Static in the air from a storm? He didn't give voice to the thought though, knowing Blair would dream up some sort of test if he knew. He'd have Jim predicting the weather before he could even say 'forecast.'
"Try to be quiet about it, Chief." He told him and turned to go back upstairs. "Without the electrics, the generators are off. You sound like a herd of elephants."
Half way up the stairs he heard Blair mutter, "Off… Man, you don't have to tell me…"
***
Blair carefully laid his shamshir back in its nook and cursed the misfortune of the Quickening hitting the power lines. He thought he had everything planned, in the event of a challenge, with the white noise generators covering his departure and return and the bottle of minerals he carried constantly to neutralise the affects of the herbs he drank every morning in his 'algae shake' to slow his Immortal healing among the measures, but he hadn't considered the possibility of a black out.
The thought of Jim waking and finding him locked in battle…
Blair had long thanked which ever of Jim's ancestors that decided to settle in Cascade, for the city was fairly quiet on the Immortal front - Washington was too well guarded to keep combat secretive - but he still had to be more careful. He didn't even want to think about having to explain this to Jim.
He was still buzzing from the Quickening, his skin sensitised and raw but Blair got into bed anyway and lay back. He knew a long night was ahead of him, tossing and turning while the restless energy left over from the Quickening screamed at his inactivity.
Blair stared at his ceiling, knowing his friend was just metres above him. If Jim ever found out, he'd feel betrayed.
And Blair knew he could not bear to lose another Sentinel…
*
Ethiopia, 1752
His body ached with fatigue. Blair had been running through the bush land for days, part of small group of warriors from the tribe tracking the slave traders who had raided their homelands and taken their kin. Their tracks were easy to follow as they marched their frightened, exhausted 'cargo' towards the port and a life of slavery. The warriors were less than half a day behind them and steadily gaining, but even so, it wasn't likely they'd be able to rescue their tribesmen.
That didn't stop them though, or slow them down.
Blair knew Tegene was aware of his presence the whole time, tied forever to his Guide. Blair could not see the faith of his rescue on the Sentinels face, not at this distance, but knowing it was there all the same.
A little ahead of him, their chief, Keita, stooped low into the brush, drawing his bow and signalled for the warriors to follow suit. He gestured to Nkosi and then pointed at Blair. Nkosi nodded, understanding the imperative. Protect the Guide.
Then Blair saw what Keita had seen. Under the trees, the traders had stopped and rested. The slaves were still bound and a couple hung limply from their bindings, half dead from the long trek. Tegene's head came up, scenting and hearing their careful approach. He immediately looked away, concealing what he'd sensed.
The warriors crept softly forward, keeping concealed, knowing this was their best – their only – chance to save their kin. There wouldn't be another opportunity to ambush the traders. Blair could hardly believe their fortune.
Pressure on his senses startled him. It had been so long he'd almost forgotten what it felt like….almost…
Blair froze, eyes scanning the traders.
There.
Blair saw the Immortals at the same moment they saw him. Two men - one narrow and blond, the other taller and dark haired – slavers, staring right at him, alerted now to the danger. They yelled at their fellow slavers who raised their guns.
Keita cursed their misfortune and with a cry sent the warriors forward. All but Nkosi ran towards their tribesmen, spears and bows at the ready. Blair desperately called out to stop them but his yell was lost in the volley of gunfire and he could do no more than watch as the warriors fell before ever reaching their kin.
Enraged, Blair bolted heedlessly from his cover, Nkosi following close behind him. Keita had asked Blair not to join them. The Guide was protector, not warrior. But his guilt had driven Blair to ignore the chief's advice. It was Blair's fault Tegene had been unable to protect the tribe. He'd used herbs and gentle poisons to dull the Sentinels senses and make him train harder.
Tegene and the tribe had been easy prey for the traders.
If he'd listened…
If he'd stayed behind, the traders would have been taken by surprise and Tegene and the others would now be free.
As he ran, Blair saw one of slavers aim his gun at them, but the taller Immortal yelled at him to lower his weapon. Then he called out to his companion – his student, Blair guessed – ordering him to stay with the cargo and drew his sword to take up Blair's challenge.
The student shook his head and grabbed a slave, pulling sharply on her chains.
"Devante," the blond Immortal cried, "leave this. We must meet the ship!" And he drew his own sword and held it to the frightened slave's neck before yelling at Blair. "Leave, traitor! Or I shall kill them all!"
Blair froze half way towards the Immortal and lowered his sword. His challenger swore and whirled on the woman his companion held, slicing her head clean from her shoulders.
Behind him, Nkosi cried out. Blair looked away in horror.
"Leave now!" Devante yelled out, moving towards the long line of slaves. "And keep your head another day."
Blair hesitated.
"Or perhaps you would prefer I do this." And he brought his sword to bear again. Another head fell, this time a boys, no older than twelve.
Blair began backing up and at the corner of his eyes saw Nkosi drew his bow beside him. A trader aimed and fired and Nkosi's body jerked once and fell, red blossoming in his stomach.
Blair shook with rage, trying and failing to keep from looking in the Sentinels direction. Tegene's eyes were blazing.
The slaver caught his glance towards Tegene and smiled. He walked to the Sentinel. Blair felt fear grip his heart and the Immortal raised his sword.
"NOOOO!!!!"
Blair broke into a run, but the thud of a fist in his chest knocked him to the ground at the same moment he heard a gun fire. Blood poured from the wound, robbing him of breath and he fell.
Hands caught him and he looked up into Nkosi's blood streaked face. The warrior began dragging him away, using what little strength he had left to do as his chief had ordered. Protect the Guide.
Blair whispered a prayer for his tribesmen and let Nkosi pull him away. He could only hope his Sentinel would forgive him.
Blair looked back and saw a trader take careful aim at him and Nkosi. Then he heard Tegene yell, angry and enraged and saw the Sentinel lunge, still chained, at the gunman, spoiling his aim. Nkosi stumbled and pulled Blair to the ground with him. As they hit the dusty earth, Blair felt the Bond inside him snap.
Behind him, Tegene's head fell, the dull thud resounding in his ears.
Nkosi's cry echoed his own and softly Blair whispered a promise to kill them.
*
Blair curled on his side and let the tears come. Today he had brought half of that promise into being.
But Devante still lived.
***
"That's sick." Joel's words echoed across the bullpen as Blair made his way towards Jim's desk. He tossed the knot of detectives around Brown's desk a casual 'hey' but kept on walking.
"Kid couldn't have been more than 17." Brown said and glanced over at Blair. "Hey, Hairboy, what's the book's say about beheading?"
The chill never registered on his face. "Beheading?"
"Some kid was found by the docks." Brown told him and motioned across his neck. "In two places."
Blair curled his lips. "Gross, man."
Simon frowned at Blair. "No anthropological gem you could share with us?"
Blair threw him a grin. "You really want me to answer that?"
They all looked at each other and immediately found jobs to do.
Blair hid a smile…
~~Fin~~
Historical Notes: West Africans accounted for approximately two-thirds of the African captives imported into the Americas. Mortality on such ships was around 20 percent. This despicable trade was abolished in 1798 and in 1833; all slaves throughout Britain and its colonies were emancipated. In one of the bitterest historical ironies, US Independence by that time meant that American slaves would have to wait another 30 years to be free.
Other Notes: Tegene is an Ethiopian name meaning "my protector."