Title:Five Senses
Author:JustJeanette
FandomsThe Sentinel, Due South
Genre:Drama, Angst, Slash, Pre-Slash, Case-Based
Pairing(s):Established J/B, pre-slash/Slash Fraser/RayK
Summary:Crossover: Due South x Sentinel. A serial killer has come to Chicago. Two Detectives from Cascade follow him and find more than they were expecting. PostTSbBS. Cop!Blair
Rating:FRAO for Violence and crime detail.
Version1.1 (updated 9th May 2007)
Chapter 2'Well at least he did go mentioning Sentinels', was Blair's first reaction. "You knew, didn't you?"
Benton Fraser just looked sad. "I knew I was one of what you were looking for, but I was not yours." The cryptic comment was understood instantly by Jim and Blair, though Ray had no idea what they were talking about. "I had no desire to have my life become public property, so I was less than honest with you, for that I am sorry."
Any resentment Blair might have had to the fact that he'd actually been fooled was quashed quickly by that comment. Indirect though it was, Benton's comment made it obvious that the Mountie was aware of Blair's dissertation and the following fiasco; worse, Benton's comment also indicated that he had been well aware of the possible consequences to allowing Blair to realise the truth about his own skill levels. That the reaction to Blair's dissertation had been a media feeding frenzy had Blair accepting that maybe Benton had been right when he'd downplayed (massively, it would seem) his skills. With the resentment gone, Blair was able to consider the Mountie with Guide and Shaman eyes; what he saw then, was painful. Sentinel, the Mountie might be, but, he was essentially unguided, ungrounded. "How do you cope?" Compassion had him asking.
"Diefenbaker helps, and other spirits have been known to interfere." A look of annoyance danced across the Mountie's eyes and he shifted his gaze to a point just behind Blair.
Blair turned quickly, and was surprised to see an older man standing in the doorway to the gangplank between the concourse and the plane that he, and Jim, had recently disembarked from. He was also in RCMP uniform, a picture-perfect mirror to Fraser's own. How the man had gotten there, given that they were the last passengers to disembark and the man was certainly not a member of the flight crew, was another question Blair would have liked answered. People just did not manage to sneak up on Jim. The answer would have to wait, however, as Benton Fraser continued to speak.
"Now Blair, will you introduce me to your watchman?" The request sounded strange, and Jim was looking more than a bit confused at the interactions, but it seemed that Fraser was indicating a need for a Guide-controlled introduction.
A shrug of his shoulders was all the contribution Jim made to the current standoff. It's up to you, Blair, was unspoken.
Some instinct had Blair take Jim by the hand and, with their spirit guides flanking them, walk toward the Mountie. Diefenbaker stepped back to stand at Fraser's side, allowing the young guide to bring the two men together. "Benton Fraser, I would like to make Jim Ellison known to you. He comes to your city to continue the hunt for a killer who has killed in his city."
Fraser reached his hand out to Blair, and allowed the Shaman to place it on top of Jim Ellison's. "I recognize you, Jim Ellison, as a friend to the city."
The moment Fraser's words were spoken the tension in the air evaporated.
Diefenbaker, quick to take advantage of the change in atmosphere, approached the other two spirit guides and before anyone had a clue as to what was about to happen, there was a flurry, and suddenly over 300 pounds of animal were engaged in a game of tag. A game anyone else in the terminal, with the exception of the Ray, only saw as Diefenbaker behaving like a puppy, off in a happy game of his own.
Ray had to wonder if he had checked his sanity at the door as he suddenly saw two wolves and a panther start playing tag around the seats of the terminal. "Would someone mind explaining what the fuck is going on?"
All three men turned to face Ray, who was currently staring at the check-in desk where the panther was waiting to spring at Diefenbaker. Any explanations, however, were forestalled, as two members of airport security approached (walking though the space where the panther sat) and rather pointedly requested that Fraser get his dog under control.
Blair Sandburg's eyes nearly fell out of his head at that point. In his, albeit limited, experience spirit animals were not visible to anyone except the person (or persons) they guarded; the general exception being those blessed with the way of the Shaman. Only when the fact that the security officers had made no comment about the wolf or panther did the quarter drop; Diefenbaker was actually incarnate on the material plane.
"Fraser?" Ray, staring at where the animals had been cavorting about the terminal, unknowingly joined Blair in the eye popping squad. Apparently deciding that he couldn't be seeing what he thought he was seeing, the blond reached into his coat and snagged out his glasses. Putting them on however didn't change anything; there were still two wolves and a black panther, though at least now all animals were under control and seated close to the humans they guided. A little further away, almost as though afraid to approach, crouched a Serval.
"Yes, Ray." Fraser looked at him and appeared to be trying some form of long distance Vulcan mind-meld. The scary thing was Ray could almost hear Fraser saying 'go alone with this for now'. "Of course we should be going, officers. I am very sorry that Diefenbaker got a little bit out of control but you must understand he has not seen Blair for such a long time that he got over excited."
Fraser's earnest face completely fooled the two pay-by-the-hour security men with Officer One even going so far as to admonish the Mountie to maintain better control of his animal. Ray ended up having to bite down on his tongue as Officer Two then launched into a great spiel about how normal folks tend to get a bit wary about large dogs on the loose in airports and that maybe next time the Mountie might consider a leash; Diefenbaker accepting a leash that wasn't part of a sled rig, so not going to happen.
Fraser, however, listened intently, nodding at the appropriate junctions, whilst he signalled Ray to start escorting their guests toward baggage pick-up. Realising that he wasn't going to get any more information out of Fraser, or the other two detectives until they were probably somewhere a little more private Ray turned and indicated that the other two men should follow him. Sandburg and Ellison complied without fuss and in very short order the detectives' bags were collected and the entire group, spirit animals included, were piling into Ray's GTO.
- - - - - - - - - -
Concentrating on driving is what Ray should have been doing, but as he was a past master at navigating about Chicago, he pinned Fraser instead with a laser-like glance. "Are you going to explain what just happened, or am I going to have to throw you out of the car…while it's still moving!"
"Really, Ray, there is no need to resort to violence." Fraser adjusted his lanyard slightly, which was a sure sign of nerves as said lanyard could have been used as a plumb-line already, and turned to glance at the men in the back seat, obviously asking permission to explain.
Blair, who was currently marvelling at how the spirit animals, Diefenbaker not included, managed to fit into the car whilst actually not being there, was, for once in his life, without a ready obfuscation. That being said, Blair was rather certain that obfuscation was not the way to go but that was only because of the presence of the Serval which indicated that Ray Vecchio was going to need to know. "Go ahead, Benton."
"Are you sure about this, Chief?" Jim's low voice was meant for Blair only to hear, though he accepted that the Mountie probably heard as well. What surprised Jim was that Blair was okaying saying anything, particularly without checking with him first.
Putting a hand on Jim's thigh, Blair spoke in Sentinel soft tones forgetting for a moment that there was another person in the car who would be able to hear what he said no matter how low he voiced. "He may be Benton's Guide."
Benton Fraser nearly gave himself a case of whiplash as he turned his head to properly face the Shaman; a look of raw, naked hope in his eyes.
"Mine?"
Ray, still waiting for an answer, felt like he'd been hit with a two-by-four in the solar plexus. The degree of longing he heard in Fraser's voice was painful to bear, mainly because he wished that Fraser would talk about him like that.
"Yes, yours." Blair spoke to the Sentinel, soft voiced so that only Benton (and Jim could hear him).
In truth, Blair felt like kicking himself for forgetting that the Mountie would have skills similar to his own Sentinel. Looking at the men in the front seat Blair saw the fragile threads that reached out from Detective Vecchio towards the Mountie; Benton, however, was wrapped in threads that appeared to be glued to his body by the force of his will. The threads were similar to those that bound him to his Sentinel, the difference appeared to be that he and Jim acknowledged the link between them while Blair suspected that Ray Vecchio knew nothing of the bonds and Benton Fraser was probably so used to making do that he hadn't noticed when the thing he wished for most had come into this orbit. It looked to Blair that he was needed here in his role as Shaman even more than was needed as a police officer. "Now explain to Detective Vecchio what he needs to know. After all, you know him better than I do."
"Remember when you asked this morning if there was more to this Sentinel thing than they had let on?"
"Yes, Fraser, I do." While gripping the wheel tightly as he navigated off the Kennedy Express Way and onto North Cumberland Avenue, Ray had to wonder what this morning's conversation had to do with the current situation; then his brain kicked back into gear. "What, you mean to say there is?"
"Yes, Ray. But what I'm about to tell you can not become public knowledge. Can you accept that you cannot tell anyone what I am about to tell you?"
Ray was about to make some form of 'of course I can' type comment when he got a look at Fraser's face. Fraser wasn't kidding here, he suddenly realised. Putting Fraser's attitude with the little information that the Sentinel article had contained added up to s scenario that could be very painful if the wrong people knew the truth. "I'm cool, Fraser. Your secret will be safe with me."
"That's actually a good thing, Ray. For the secret actually may involve you rather intimately."
'I wish,' was Ray's first thought but most likely not in the way Fraser had meant his comment.
"Sentinel's do exist."
"And…"
"It is the and, Ray, that is the crux of the matter. A Sentinel is something more or possibly less than pure human. One of the original non-Sentinel researchers, Richard Burton, referred to Sentinels as genetic throwback to prehistoric man and he may have been almost right. Sentinels possess enhanced senses, able to see, hear, touch, smell and taste, much more than the average human."
"That explains your tasting everything," Ray interjected as Fraser's odd behaviours were suddenly, and completely, explained. "You're one, aren't you?"
"Yes, Ray… an incomplete Sentinel."
"Incomplete? No way are you incomplete, Fraser." Ray couldn't believe that his friend obviously thought so little of himself.
"But I am, Ray. For a Sentinel to be able to function fully he requires a Guide." Fraser looked over his shoulder to stare at Blair. "Without one, a Sentinel can be lost to his or her senses."
"The zone-out factor," Blair piped in excitedly, wondering what else Benton Fraser knew. Blair had caught the earlier reference to non-Sentinel researcher, did that mean there were actually Sentinels who had researched the phenomenon and did that mean more material available. The biggest question in Blair's mind was how would he go about getting his hands on that research.
Jim noted Blair's elevated heart rate, and smiled fondly. You might be able to take the academic out of academia but it seemed that you couldn't take the academia out of the academic.
"That is as good a word for it as any, though it doesn't quite encompass all of the risk factors. A Sentinel, completely immersed in their senses can actually lose all connection to the real world. An unguided Sentinel is quite capable of taking the out-of-body experience one step too far." Noting the look of concern that crossed ex-anthropologist's face, Fraser sought to reassure. "The chances of that sort of 'break' are significantly reduced when a Sentinel-Guide bond is formed. It seems that the very existence of such a bond helps anchor the Sentinel to the world even when he is not necessarily in close proximity to his Guide."
"And if there isn't such a bond?" Ray kind of figured that was Fraser's problem… Fraser didn't have a Guide. "Can anyone be a Guide?"
Blair actually answered in the affirmative just as Fraser answered in the negative.
"Yes, or no, guys?" Ray, and Jim, both snapped simultaneously. Both men were interested in the answer for surprisingly similar reasons.
Blair, for completely different reasons, also had to admit he was interested in Fraser's answer. He would have sworn that anyone could actually be a Guide then, as Fraser spoke, Blair remembered the difficulty other member of Major Crime had bringing Jim out of a zone if he wasn't there; was that because he was Jim's Guide and therefore the only one who could get through to Jim when he zoned or was it because he was A Guide with whatever mystical abilities that entailed. Was there really something even more special about being a Guide than Burton's research suggested?
"The Guide-Sentinel bond is a lot like the bond between two people deeply in love." Fraser started to explain. "While there is probably no truth to the idea of a one-true-love there is some truth to the idea that there are few people that anyone can really, and truly, love that deeply. The same is true of the Sentinel-Guide bond; there are very few people that can bond as a Guide to a Sentinel. Without the right connection, no bond will form."
"So a Guide needs to be gay?" Ray had to admit he could be down with that if it meant a closer connection to his friend; here's to hoping.
"What gives you that idea, Ray?" Fraser actually frowned.
'Way to burst my bubble, Fraser'. Ray's shoulders slumped dejectedly, a fact that Fraser noticed immediately, even as Ray continued. "Well if a Sentinel was male and from what I've heard it sounds a lot like the Guide would be male as well."
"Being lovers does not necessarily follow from that, Ray. Although it seems very common, it is not an absolute." Was Ray indicating, however obliquely, that he was interested in him in a manner other than platonic? Fraser very quickly quashed that thought after all he had learned his lessons well; good things did not come to Fraser.
Blair, in the meantime, was almost salivating as Fraser spoke. Fraser knew things. "Man, I can't wait till we get where were going. I have so many questions I want to ask you. But how have you coped so far? I mean, Jim here almost freaked when his senses started playing up." Blair remembered the almost basket case that Jim had been when he had first found his Sentinel. How had Benton Fraser coped for so long?
Fraser looked surprised at that statement. Was Blair implying that Jim Ellison wasn't always aware of his senses?
Blair saw the look and interpreted it correctly launching into a highly expurgated version of Jim's history and the time that his Sentinel senses came back online.
"That would explain a great many things. I was brought up amongst people who knew what I was," Benton did not feel the need to add the fact that among the people he was resented for being a white Sentinel. "I was taught how to control my senses well enough to be able to cope until such time as I might meet my Guide."
That explained the kid-at-the-candy-store look. Fraser was still waiting for his Guide. "Didn't you connect with anyone?" Blair had to know.
"My grandparents moved around the Territories a lot when I was growing up so I did not get to spend enough time anywhere to develop that sort of connection." Fraser attempted to look composed as he spoke but Blair Sandburg had spent too many hours studying human nature and psychology not to be able to make a few shrewd guesses about Fraser and his lack of a Guide this late in life.
"I suspect any potential Guides were kept well away from you Ben." Blair, the shaman and healer, spoke to the younger Sentinel. "They didn't want to accept a white man protecting the tribe, did they?"
Fraser's nod was all the answer Blair needed.
The silence that descended in the vehicle was almost palpable. Ray knew enough of Fraser's history to be well aware that his friend had abandonment issue but to have some fundamental part of him denied because he wasn't native enough just sucked. Ray might not be a Harvard Graduate or anything real special like that but he was very good at reading people, hearing what they didn't want to say. 'And then the RCMP sends you to Chicago because they don't want you either?' Ray had to wonder at what it was that kept Fraser going.
"Well," Jim spoke into the silence, "from what I've read of Detective Vecchio's case files you seem to be doing a fairly good job of protecting this tribe."
'Protecting the tribe,' that was the second time in as many minutes that phrase had been spoken and both times Fraser and Ellison had reacted, minutely but they had reacted. "So is that what Sentinels do? Protect the tribe?" Ray wanted clarification and with luck he would get it.
"Essentially yes," Sandburg again took up the narration. "In all tribal cultures, every village had a Sentinel. This was someone who patrolled the borders, not a scout, more like a watchman; the Sentinel watched for approaching enemies, changes in the weather, movement of game. The tribe's survival depended on the Sentinel. Now a Sentinel was chosen because of a genetic advantage; sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans. Burton's research also talks of a partner, someone to watch the Sentinel's back. One thing I've learnt, however, is that the Guide is more important than Burton's original research suggested."
"And yet you are unguided Fraser." Ray brought the conversation back to the original point, Fraser's lack of a Guide.
"Yes, Ray. What that means is that I can not use my senses to their fullest extent."
"Well I'm sure we can something about that." Blair was grinning like a fool. They hadn't even begun to discuss the case that they were in Chicago to solve but he was getting a very strong sense that solving this serial offence was going to be much easier if they could bring Benton Fraser's Sentinel skills fully online. The answer to how was currently sitting on Blair's lap, the Serval had moved quietly to curl up on the Shaman thigh's whilst the men had been discussing just what a Sentinel was.
"I think Detective Vecchio is your Guide, Benton." Blair stated as he dropped his hand to caress the Serval's head.
- - - - - - - - -
Later, Blair would admit that maybe stating such a bold pronouncement in the tense environment of Detective Vecchio's car was not one of his brighter moments. At the time he found himself thrown hard against the door as the car whipped into a sudden, and very uncontrolled, spin. Detective Vecchio had reacted in a manner completely unexpected, turning to face the man who sat behind him, and in doing so turned the wheel with him.
Cosmic luck, or some other force, must have been on their side, however, as Vecchio's unexpected U-turn didn't end in a sudden trip to the emergency ward. Instead, the GTO swung to a neat stop, parallel parked exactly 5 inches from the kerb, in front of the Canadian Consulate. Diefenbaker, as the only corporal being not belted in, was thrown hard against Jim before bouncing back to land on Blair's lap, proving to the anthropologist/detective that he was capable of a surprising amount of invective all of which was howled in Wolfish.
"Diefenbaker. Manners." The Mountie obviously understood wolfish as well. Blair was willing to believe he could have lit tinder off Fraser's ears they were so red.
"Oh my. Is everyone alright?" A pale faced young man, dressed in similar red serge to Fraser, opened the passenger door which Blair was leaning precariously against, and suddenly fell to the ground beside the GTO with a lap full of unhappy wolf.
Diefenbaker, his dignity seriously bruised, let out a growl that caused Turnbull to attempt to scramble out from under the wolf. Luckily for all concerned, there were no witnesses nearby armed with video cameras. Finally, after extricating himself from his highly undignified position atop of Turnbull, Diefenbaker stalked into the consulate ignoring all protests from Fraser to calm down.
"Constable Fraser? Detective Kowalski? Are you both all right?" Turnbull righted himself and looked into the car having finally realised to whom the vehicle belonged. Given the spectacular way in which the car had pulled up, he should have realized immediately who had been driving it. "Are these the guests that we are expecting?"
- - - - - - - - -
Diefenbaker stalked in through the open door of the consulate with Jim's panther, Blair's timber-wolf, and the Serval that might or might not belong to Detective Ray Kowalski following behind. To those left in the street, and able to the see the procession of animals, it was an awesome sight. The sheer power radiating from the animals was almost enough to cause the Shaman to zone. Turnbull, with the psychic ability of a tepid brick, saw none of this, which, in the grand scheme of things was a good thing as his mind might finally have short circuited as a result.
The click-clack of claws on the polished red wood floor drew Inspector Thatcher out of her office to glare at the artic wolf; Diefenbaker as always walking about like he owned the building. The only reason that Inspector Thatcher was still in the building was she was rather curious about the gentleman from Cascade that the Consulate would be playing host too. That there was also an opportunity to indirectly further her career prospects (if, Constable Fraser was successful in assisting in the apprehension of the criminal that the Cascade detectives were tracking) had almost nothing to do with her remaining on duty later than normal. Her curiosity had to wait, however, as it was Turnbull that entered the building first, literally staggering under the weight of their guests' luggage. It was at times like this that the Thatcher had to admit she really wondered how Renfield Turnbull had actually made it through RCMP training. Surely he could have taken more than one trip to bring the luggage in? Further internal grousing about the mental state of her staff was interrupted as Benton Fraser escorted the gentlemen from Cascade into the foyer and it was only that fact that she was somewhat inured of beautiful men due to her long association with Benton Fraser that allowed her to observe the men without her jaw dropping.
"Ahhh, Inspector Thatcher, Sir. I would like to introduce Detective Blair Sandburg and Detective James Ellison." Fraser pointed first to the shorter of the two men that had followed the red-clad Mountie inside then to the taller man.
"Inspector Thatcher, I'm very pleased to meet you gentlemen. I hope you will enjoy your stay in Canada." Meg strode forward, hand held ready to shake hands with both of them. She couldn't decide which of the men was the more striking: the taller man screamed 'military' and had the same contained air about him that characterised Fraser; the smaller man was not really that small she realised, he was just dwarfed by his companion, but he exuded a quite power very reminiscent of the Inuit Elders that had sometimes lectured to young recruits at RCMP headquarters.
"Thank you for offering to put us up." Blair Sandburg, always the charmer, had a thousand watt smile ready for the Inspector. Blair was curious to note the way in which the woman looked his partner up and down. Jim did tend to turn eyes wherever he went.
"No bother, we have a very special relationship with the American police." The somewhat unsubtle dig did not pass by unnoticed, though it was Fraser who was apparently the most distressed. "Constable Fraser indicated that you might prefer quieter accommodations than those the Chicago PD might have access to."
"Sir," Constable Fraser cut into the conversation before any territorial rivalries could flare up into full scale war. "I thought the Lester B. Pearson suite would be suitable for our guests."
"Good thinking, Constable. Well you gentlemen must have had a long and tiring day so I will say good night." Meg Thatcher knew how to make a graceful withdrawal. "I'll leave you in the capable hands of my constables. Constable Fraser I expect your 10989-B report on my desk in the morning."
"Yes, Sir." Fraser nodded his head politely to his superior officer before returning his attention to their guests and the stumbling Turnbull. "Turnbull, perhaps you would like some help to take the gentlemen's luggage to the Pearson Suite?"
Unfortunately, as expected, Turnbull indicated that he was quite capable of transporting the detective's luggage upstairs and that Constable Fraser need not worry. Luckily, Blair had acquired the briefcase that held all of the case notes before the eager young Constable started up the stairs. Unfortunately, Fraser had been unable to relieve Turnbull of any of the other luggage which meant that all of the Cascade detective's clothing went flying when Turnbull tripped on the first step.
Fraser saw to the hapless Turnbull, encouraging the younger man to dust himself off and head home for the evening. That left the way clear for Jim and Blair to rescue their belongings, though Fraser's sharp eyes noted (in passing) the content of Blair's toiletry kit and suddenly found that he had to tamp down an unreasonable flare of jealousy; it seemed the Jim and Blair definitely shared the closest of bonds between Sentinel and Guide. Still, once his jealousy was under control, Fraser was glad of his decision to house the Cascade pair in the Pearson suite; the master bedroom had a bed that would easily accommodate both men, and a quiet word to Turnbull would ensure Jim and Blair's privacy.
"Ray, would you mind waiting the parlour room? I'm sure that Constable Turnbull would have left be coffee brewing." His head nodding towards the where Turnbull was being escorted from the premises by Inspector Thatcher.
"No, I'll wait in your office. Have a word with the wolves." Ray's smile, once the coast was clear and the other two Canadian's had left the building, was infectious and Fraser was quickly answering it with one of his own; the easy exchange noted by the other detectives present.
"We will join you momentarily then, Ray. I'll just show Detectives Sandburg and Ellison upstairs." With that Fraser turned and headed up that stairs assuming that the two detectives would follow.
The walls of the Lester B. Pearson suite were painted light blue in honour of the connection between the now dead former Canadian Prime Minister's links to the creation of the UN peacekeeping forces; the colour was particularly soothing to Sentinel sensibilities. The suite itself was comprised of two bedrooms, a private study, a public lounge room, a small dining room, and, a very luxurious bathroom. It was to the larger of the bedrooms that Fraser led his guests. "I hope these accommodations will suffice."
"Um, yeah." Blair was in Guide heaven. The suite itself was peaceful in a way only a Guide or Sentinel would notice. The carpet was pure wool, the furnishings all made from various timbers or metals (not a bit of plastic in sight) with cotton, wool, silk, or leather coverings. There was nothing in the entire suite that would set Jim's senses off. The bedroom was a sybarite's dream and the bathroom looked ready made for an evening of pure indulgence. "These will definitely suffice."
"I'll wait for you downstairs then gentlemen. I expect that Ray will want to talk to you both before he heads home tonight."
- - - - - - - - -
"All right Darwin, you can start salivating now." Jim looked over at his partner in crime (and other things) with a wry expression.
"Hey. What do you mean start? I thought you'd be telling me to stop."
"I know you, Chief. You've just been introduced to a Sentinel that seems to know an awful lot about being a Sentinel; you haven't even begun to drool yet."
"Hey, I resemble that remark."
"Yes, Chief. I know."
"Yeah, but think about it man. Benton actually knows about being a Sentinel. Think what you could learn from him." Blair was almost jumping up and down with glee as he really began to consider the possibilities; that is until he remember the last time he'd tangled with another Sentinel. "Hell, man. You're not getting all territorial are you? No sudden urges to jump the Mountie's bones?"
"Calm down Blair. The only 'bones' I'm thinking about jumping are bouncing around the room." That comment was backed up by a heated grin that if they didn't have to deal with a serial killer, and the probable Sentinel/Guide pair downstairs, would have meant neither man would have surfaced for a week. "As for territoriality, I think Fraser dealt with that at the airport."
"So you were feeling threatened until that?" The need for more data driving Blair to start question his friend.
"Not threatened so much as jumpy. The skin crawling feeling I got with Alex wasn't there but…." Jim was at a loss to really explain what he felt; Blair was always the good one when it came to words. "I kind of knew we were heading into guarded territory. I just didn't understand who was guarding it. Maybe if we run into more Sentinels that are actually acting as Sentinels I'll find react the same way but at the moment I have nothing to compare the feeling against other than the Alex itch and as I just said the feeling I got wasn't that one."
"That's an answer anyway Jim." Blair flopped down onto the king sized bed. "And Jim, you will let me know if you ever have that 'Alex' sensation again won't you?"
"I think we've both learnt our lessons on that front, Chief." Jim still had the occasional nightmare as a result of the whole Alex fiasco and he knew, though his partner tended to obfuscate on the point, that Blair still suffered more than his fair share of nightmares about that time as well. Communication and trust, hard earned was the basis of their partnership but it didn't hurt to occasionally remind each other to be open about anything that might connect to the whole Sentinel/Guide package. "Any funny feeling and you will be the first to know."
Blair smiled at his partner fully understanding the spoken (and unspoken) messages. Taking the subject as finalised, at least for the moment, Blair sighed happily. "Did you notice that Benton bought all our luggage into this room?"
"Yeah, I noticed that too." Jim just accepted the segue to a new topic of conversation without a fuss. "It would seem like the Canadian's don't have a problem with our sleeping arrangements."
"Or at least Benton doesn't have a problem. You think he had much to do with the décor of this room?"
"I'd have to say yes to that, Chief. The whole suite in fact is very Sentinel friendly. Which kind of begs the question of why the Canadian Consulate needs a suite that would suit a Sentinel?"
"And can he introduce us to more…."
"Like I said Chief, stop drooling. Now don't you think it is past time that we join our hosts?" The smell of good coffee was wafting up from down below and Jim felt the need to feed his caffeine addiction; it had been a long day after all.
"We'd better work out what we are going to do about our host first, Jim. We're here to deal with a serial killer but I have the funny feeling we are going to have to sort out Benton and Detective Vecchio first."
"You sure? I mean we've got one fully functioning Sentinel." Jim was somewhat uncharacteristically put out, unconsciously assuming that if they 'sorted Ray and Benton out' then he would be competing with another Sentinel, both on the case and for Blair's attention; a stupid, jealous and a totally uncalled for response but as Blair had once said he, Jim, had fear based responses down pat. "How about we catch the killer then we can see about helping them pair up."
"I don't know man, I've got this funny feeling that we are going to need Benton and I mean Benton functioning fully as the Sentinel of Chicago."
Noting the determine look in his partner's eyes Jim could already feel his resolve wavering. If Blair really thought it was important he had better listen; too many things had gone wrong in the past when he hadn't. Still, he wanted to understand Blair's reasoning; was it a Blair thing or a Shaman thing? "Ok, suppose I agree. Can you tell me why you think we need him? We are primaries on this case after all."
"Think about Jim. In the last year you've become much more attuned to Cascade."
A raised eyebrow was the only response from the taller detective.
Blair was suddenly struck by the idea that maybe Jim hadn't even noticed his growing sensitivity to his home city but Blair and others such as their captain, sure had. Simon had, in fact, commented more than once recently about the pair's ability to be in the right place at the right time to prevent a major crime, or to control it before it became something of a major disaster. But it hadn't been luck that had placed them in the way of the crime, rather Jim would suddenly stop whatever he'd been doing and race off, dragging Blair behind him, and the next thing Blair would know they were facing down criminals involved in some serious crime or another. The cover story the stuck to was the 'Blair trouble magnet' which was well and truly established in the Cascade PD folklore but these days it wasn't Blair's trouble magnet tendencies that put them there.
"Jim, surely you've worked it out by now. You're so in tune with Cascade that you pick up on big crime vibes. I mean think about it man, I out the serial signature together but you were the one who was getting edgy about it long before I saw any pattern. Think about, two months ago, when The Sunrise Son's planned to blow the court house you just had to drag me out there because, and I quote, "I'm sure we had a court date today Chief. Maybe we'd better swing by and check."
Jim managed a look normally associated with a mullet, a stunned one at that. Blair could almost see the wheels turning in his friend's head as he out together all the 'coincidental happenings' of the last year or so. "But if that's a Sentinel thing how come it only started about a year ago?"
"Because about a year ago you finally accepted the spiritual side of being a Sentinel."
"And you died." Jim gathered his partner into his arms and held him tight. "God's Blair, I so sorry I let you down then."
"Forget big guy. It's the past and some good things have come out of it. Still…."
"Let's go down and see what our hosts have to say." Jim closed the conversation. "And if you think we need to do a bit of Shaman work before we can get this case moving we'd better get to it."
- - - - - - - - -
The sounds of a quiet discussion drew Jim and Blair towards the office near the back of the Consulate. Inside the room, Fraser was standing at parade rest with his back to the door. Ray sat, sprawled, in the single chair, glaring at the Mountie. Apparently Fraser's delaying tactics weren't working and the Chicago cop wanted answers about the Guide thing and he wanted them now.
"Come on Fraser, you don't need to wait for the Cascade cops to answer my questions." Ray was rather put out that Benton refused to discuss the whole Sentinel thing. The fact that Fraser maintained the line that any explanations would be quicker, and more informative, if they waited till the duo from Cascade came back downstairs didn't fool Ray one little bit. Fraser was hoping to avoid the conversation all together.
"Whilst you are correct, Ray, in that I could explain things without waiting for Detectives Ellison and Sandburg, I believe that as the discussions intimately involve the gentlemen it behoves me to await their presence. Some of what I might say may be things that they would prefer to remain confidential."
"Fraser…" Ray tried the 'pout' but even that didn't work. Fraser just stood there like a statue.
Jim and Blair, standing in the doorway, were rather amused to watch the battle of wills that played out before them. "Do you think we ever look like that, Chief?" Jim's eyes indicating the standoff in front of them.
"If we do, I think I can understand why Simon's going grey."
"Come in gentlemen," Fraser tried to take advantage of the fact that the Cascade detectives had joined them to distract Ray. It didn't work.
"Yes, come in and explain why I have a Serval sitting on my lap." Ray beamed at the two men in the doorway. His smile wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself.
Jim followed Blair into the surprisingly cramped office; the question of why a camp bed was set up behind the desk being one of many the older detective wanted to ask. Though, Jim had to admit, that at the moment the bed's presence was rather useful as it gave the larger spirit guides, corporal or otherwise, somewhere to lounge and lounge they were doing. Three heads poked out of a tangled 'dog-pile' of white, grey and black fur. The general expression on the animals' faces indicated that they expected the humans to hurry and get on with the explaining.
Blair, his role as Shaman obviously in need here, stepped into the information breech. "The short story would be that you apparently are a Guide which is a lot more than just someone who watches over a Sentinel."
"And the long story?" Ray prompted, even as his hands continued to stroke the fur of the animal on his lap.
"Sentinels have hyper sensitive senses, seeing before others see, hearing what other cannot and so on, and so forth. The problem with that is they can get so lost in a type of sensory overload called a zone. To prevent, or to pull a Sentinel out of, a zone, they always had an assigned partner called a Guide. Richard Burton, the researcher, not the actor, talked about Sentinels and Guides but his theories indicated that a Guide was just some other tribe member when in fact it appears that being a Guide, like being a Sentinel, is something you are born to.
I'm Jim's Guide and I think that you might be Benton's Guide."
"But if Sentinels are supposed to have Guides or they fall into that zone thing why hasn't Fraser?"
"I'd kind of like to know that as well." Jim commented. The shock of having met another Sentinel had worn off enough that he was starting to wonder how the man in question, Benton Fraser, had survived without a Guide; his own experiences with his senses going haywire gave him more than enough reasons to want to respect the Mountie.
"To function fully as a Sentinel a Guide is needed," Benton started speaking softly, "but if you know what you are and have enough discipline, it is possible to cope without a Guide."
Not surprisingly the others in the room, man and animal, all understood that Benton's use of the word 'cope' was something of an overstatement.
"So how does a Sentinel hook up with a Guide? Is there some sort of complicated ritual or something? Because I've been hanging around with Fraser here for over a year and I haven't had any mystical need to guide his back; rescue it yes, guide it no."
Thinking back over their own complicated history, Blair and Jim could easily see why the potential bond between the Chicago cop and the Mountie hadn't formed; after all it had taken Blair's drowning for them to both accept the complete nature of their link. Since that point of acceptance, Jim hadn't zoned deeply and the simplest of touches were enough to bring him back to the conscious world. Before then, it had still been easy enough to fall into a zone, even with Blair as back up, but Blair had always been able to pull him out.
Blair, falling into a slight trace, observed Fraser and Ray with the Shamanic power that Incacha had passed onto him. The potential link between the two men was obvious to his spirit sight; the desire for that link burning even brighter. The problem was how to activate the link without having to kill anyone. Blair had been there, done that, bought the T-Shirt and didn't want to do it again. "Activating the link needs to happen in the spirit plane but getting there isn't always that easy." Blair commented to his audience.
Ray's eyebrows rose in disbelief at the very mention of the spirit plane; which, considering that part of the spirit world was happily being stroked by the incredulous detective was a rather amusing image. "And just how do we get to the spirit plane? Hop on an Ouija board?"
"Normally Jim and I meditate." Blair wasn't too happy to have the spirituality of the Sentinel-Guide bond 'dissed' even knowing how fantastical it generally sounded.
"Or we could just walk into my closet." Benton remarked softly though not softly enough.
"Closet?" Three stunned voices sounded in tri-phonic synchronisation.