As he and Josiah walked across the room he quietly whispered, "Thanks, Jim."

Jim allowed a small smile to flit across his lips before looking up at the others, "All right, boys. I'll see Ezra's five and raise you ten."

Blair chuckled, closing the door, as Buck slapped his cards on the table muttering 'aw hell' and a couple of the others folded their hands. He snagged a couple of photo albums off the bottom shelf of his bookcase and handed them to Josiah who was looking at his display of Chopec items. "Jim and I were in Peru over the summer visiting the Chopec; the tribe that rescued him. Those are some of the things we were given while we visited. The lopsided basket is my bad attempt at making one."

"Rescued?"

"Yeah, that mission Jim and Vin keep referring to? Very long story short, Jim's chopper went down in the jungles of Peru. He was the only survivor and was rescued by the Chopec. Eventually the Army came looking for him and he returned to Cascade."

"I see." And in a way he did. It was obvious, to him at least; that there was a great deal Blair wasn't telling him. While he wasn't familiar with the Chopec specifically, he did know enough about South American tribes to recognize shamanic items. Items that were only given from one Shaman to another. Things, while still complicated, were beginning to make a lot more sense now. Knowing Blair would talk to him when he was ready, Josiah allowed himself to be distracted by the photo albums.

A little while later he smiled sadly, brushing his fingertips over a recent picture of mother and son together, the love evident in their eyes. "She's still so beautiful." He took a deep breath before asking, "How did she take to your becoming a cop?"

"You know Naomi," Blair answered getting to his feet to pace the small confines of his room. "She said she was okay with it and all, but last time she checked in with me she was still in India 'processing' it all. She's been there over a year now."

Josiah grabbed Blair's wrist, halting his pacing. Blair wouldn't look at him though. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

"Look at me, son." When Blair's gaze finally met his own he had to swallow past the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. There was sadness and shame in the dark blue eyes; but worst of all was the fear. Fear that Josiah would hate him, reject him for the choices he had made and the things he had done. "Blair, son, no matter what has happened or what you tell me I will always love you as my son, even if you are only my son in spirit and not in blood. I will never be disappointed in you. The journey to manhood is a difficult road to travel and no one can say they did not make a few mistakes along the way. I can see that you have grown in to a good man, your friends are proof of that. So, please, never feel that you have disappointed me or that I will reject you. I love you too much, my son, to hurt you that way."

He rose to his feet, pulling the younger man in to his arms, holding him tightly as they both wept.

Out in the main room Jim looked up with a start as he realized Simon had been calling his name.

"Sorry, Simon, what'd you say?"

"It's your turn to bid. You okay, Jim? You kind of *zoned* out there for a moment."

"Yeah, just thinking. Really, everything's fine, Simon."

"Ya know, last time I saw ya thinkin' that hard, Captain, you were tryin' ta figure out what to do ta me for that prank I'd pulled on Corporal Myers."

Jim smiled, grateful for Vin's attempt to lighten things up. "So, do you remember what your punishment was?"

Vin blushed and mumbled, "Wish I could forget."

This of course set everyone demanding to know what the punishment had been.

Back in Blair's room Blair finally pulled away, wiping at the tears on his cheeks, and dropped down in to his desk chair. Josiah resumed his own seat on the futon. "Why don't you start from the beginning? Before you do though, I have heard about the press conference last year. Not much, just rumors and hearsay. I'd like to know what really happened from you, son."

Blair nodded, "I figured you had. When I didn't hear from you I figured you'd seen it and didn't want anything to do with me."

"No, son, never. I only heard about it this morning. Not more than ten minutes before we ran in to you and Jim. From what I figure it took place right around the time we were working on a big bust. Ezra and Vin were undercover and had been made; got themselves kidnapped again. Vin wasn't too badly hurt; a few broken ribs, a broken arm, concussion, and a powerful lot of bruises. Nearly lost Ezra though. He spent almost a week on life support." Josiah paused, sucking in a ragged breath, releasing it in a mirthless chuckle. "I don't think any of us left that hospital room the entire time. I think we were afraid he...but he didn't, thank the Lord."

"It sounds like you care about them a lot."

"I do. They're family, just like you are. So, tell me. What happened?"

Blair took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "About five years ago now I was working on my doctoral thesis on Sentinels. You remember what I told you about them, right? Well, a friend of mine at Cascade General called me and told me about a cop who'd come in complaining about noises that were too loud, lights too bright and so on. He was having sensory spikes. I got myself in to the hospital, managed to give him my card and told him I knew what was wrong with him. The next day he showed up at my office at Rainier and that was how I met Jim Ellison, fledgling Sentinel. And Jim is a Sentinel in every sense of the word, Josiah. Burton's monograph was only the tip of the iceberg. Some of the things I've seen him do are simply amazing. His senses are so finely tuned it's unbelievable. He can track a person through a crowded street by following the scent of their perfume.

"There have been some downsides to it. Jim has never been happy with the idea of being a lab rat and I am so kosher with that, although occasionally I have been a bit overzealous. He's also had some issues with trust and I've been kicked out of here at least once. I mean, he was really reacting to another Sentinel being in his territory, being near his Guide, but it took getting kicked out and drowned before it really sunk in to me what was happening."

"Wait a minute, he drowned you? And you're still here?"

"Huh? Oh! No, Jim didn't drown me. Alex Barnes, this psychopathic Sentinel who sooo did not understand the concept of protecting the tribe, did. It's this whole big complicated story, but what it pretty much amounts to is Alex drowned me, I started to crossover, but somehow Jim called me back. One minute I'm running through the jungle as my spirit guide, the Wolf, I leaped forward and merged with Jim's spirit guide, the Panther, and the next thing I know I'm coughing up water. Alex is in a mental hospital. She went crazy at the Temple of Sentinels and sent her senses in to complete overload. I've tried a couple of times to bring her out of it, but between the fact that I'm not her Guide and I'm still just a little bitter about being killed, I haven't been able to."

"What do you mean by not her Guide? What's a Guide?"

"Every Sentinel has a Guide, someone to watch their back, especially while using their senses. You see Sentinels are prone to zoning out when they focus too much on one sense. They become lost in it. A Guide is a Sentinel's anchor. The sound of my voice, my heart beat, my touch, even my scent is imprinted on Jim's senses. If Jim zones I'm pretty much the only thing that'll bring him out of it." Blair looked down at the floor, the energy seeming to drain right out of him. "I didn't really understand what being a Guide meant until the whole mess with the press conference and my thesis. Even then I only had an inkling of an idea. Sentinels don't exactly come with manuals. I got greedy. I wanted everything: my thesis and my Sentinel. It doesn't work that way though."

"What happened, son?" Josiah gently asked when he fell silent again. "What caused that press conference to happen?"

"Naomi. No," Blair shook his head, then ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I can't place the blame on her. She was a catalyst, yes, but it wasn't her fault. It's mine. I knew I should have stopped writing that thesis a long time ago, the second I moved in here, but I'd worked so hard for it, you know? I wanted to be able to hold it in my hands and, even if I was the only one who ever saw it, I could still say to myself I had proof. It wasn't until I almost lost him that I realized I had all the proof I ever needed in Jim. If I hadn't been so selfish and stopped writing that thesis Naomi never would have tried to help me by sending it to that damn publisher and the press never would have gotten hold of it. They were hounding him, Josiah. He couldn't do his job properly, he had no privacy. All of his past cases would have been reopened and brought under review. And it was all my fault. I had failed my Sentinel. I failed my best friend. So I did what I could to fix things. I did what was necessary to protect my Sentinel. I went on national television and declared my work and myself a fraud. I destroyed my life to save his."

Josiah didn't say anything. He knew there wasn't anything he could say that would make things easier. Instead he just hugged him close again, wishing like many fathers before him that he could ease the pain of his son.

Jim shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then finally gave up. "I fold," he said, grabbing his beer and heading out on to the balcony. Simon and Megan exchanged worried glances before Simon folded and followed him out.

"Is everything all right, Jim? You've been wound tighter than a coiled spring and you've almost zoned a couple of times now. Do you want me to get Sandburg? Is this a Sentinel thing?" Simon started to get even more worried the longer Jim didn't answer, just continued to stare out at the water. He'd turned to go get Blair when Jim spoke.

"I thought he'd finally made peace with it, Simon."

"Huh?" Simon turned back to find Jim looking at him.

"Blair and that damn press conference. I didn't know he still felt so much guilt about it. How can I be so blind?"

"Jim, it's only been a year. It's still fresh, and I'm sure having to lie to Josiah, whom he apparently really looks up to, is like pouring salt in a still raw wound. These things take time to heal."

"He's telling him the truth."

"About everything? And you're okay with that?"

"I told him too. Blair said he trusted him so I told him to tell Josiah the truth. I'm glad I did too. I didn't know, I didn't realize how much Blair needed this. Josiah isn't judging him. He isn't judging any of it. He understands mistakes were made but he won't judge his son by them."

"Son? Josiah is his..."

"Not by blood; by heart." Jim looked back out over the bay. "It hurts, Simon, that I can't take away his pain. Knowing that I'm partially responsible for it. What good is being a Sentinel if I can't protect those who are closest to me?"

"You're still a human being, Jim. You still have your limits. Do you know how many times I've wished I could shield Daryl from all the evil in the world? How much I wish I could have protected him from Kincaid? It doesn't work that way. As much as I wish to God it did, it just doesn't. It's part of caring about people. With the joy comes the pain."

"Yeah, well, he's suffered too much."

Simon remained silent, unsure of what to say him.

Meanwhile inside, Megan shrugged when the others looked at her questioningly after Jim's, then Simon's, departure. "Jim gets a bit moody every now and again. Especially if he's concerned about Sandy."

"Why is he worried about Blair?" Nathan asked.

"This last year hasn't been easy for them."

"Because of that press conference?" Vin asked, idly playing with a pretzel.

Megan nodded.

"Why'd he submit that paper if...oomph," JD grunted as Buck's elbow dug in to his side.

"Sandy *didn't* submit that paper. I don't think he ever intended to either, other than as a work of fiction. His mum thought she'd help him by sending his paper to a publisher friend of hers. From there things got worse. The press got a hold of it and suddenly Jim and Sandy couldn't go anywhere or do anything without a mob of reporters following them. Sandy feels like the whole thing was all his fault and the only way he could think to protect Jim's career was to destroy his own. Personally I think the whole thing is his mum's fault and I'm glad she hasn't shown her face around here. Anyway, Jim worries about Sandy. Being a cop wasn't something he'd ever really wanted. And to say things have been difficult with other officers would be an understatement."

"And I thought my mother meddled too much," Ezra commented, retrieving his beer from Vin. "Get your own."

"Maude does meddle too much." Chris glared at Vin as he moved his beer out of the Texan's reach. "I swear if she calls me one more time tellin' me to fire you..."

"She what?!" Ezra stared at him in shock. "You mean to tell me that my mother has been callin' you and tellin' you ta fi-ah me?" His accent thickened so badly they could barely understand what he was saying.

"Now, Ezra," Chris said soothingly, realizing he probably shouldn't have shared that bit of information, "she just thinks she's doing what's in your best interest. She's not doing it to hurt you."

"Ah do not care what she thinks she is doin'! Ah will decide for mah-self what is in mah best interest. She will not get away with this!" Throwing down his cards, he stormed over to their jackets and rummaged through them until he found his cell phone.

"You can't call her, Ez. It's like 11 o'clock in New York," JD said, looking at his watch then shooting a worried look at Chris.

"Oh no. They are not in New York. They are in France at the Chateau. So it is closer to one there."

"Ya had ta tell him didn't ya, cowboy," Vin said shaking his head at Ezra's evil grin that turned to a frown when he over heard the comment.

"Shut up, Vin," Chris growled.

"You knew about this, Mistah Tannah? Hello, Mothah...The only thing wrong is you are not within reach ta throttle. How dare you call Mistah Larabee and ask him...yes, Ah know what time it is, Mothah...no, this will not...She hung up on me!" He immediately hit the redial, staring to pace the kitchen area.

"Ez, maybe ya should wait 'til morning, pard," Buck tried to talk sense to the ruffled Southerner. He fell silent when Ezra just glared at him. They listened as he started shouting into the phone again, only this time he was yelling in French.

Megan looked at him curiously before asking, "I thought he was from Georgia? Why is he shouting in French?"

"He is from Georgia. Maude, however, believes the language of true civility is French," Chris answered. "Funny things is, the only time he uses it is when he's really pissed."

"Pissed?"

"Angry."

"Oh."

Having heard the shouting Blair, Josiah, Jim, and Simon all came back in to the main room.

"What's with him?" Jim asked.

"Is he yelling at Maude?" Josiah looked to Chris who just nodded.

"Chris spilled the beans bout her callin' him ta get him ta fire Ez."

"Thought we decided it would be best he not know about that?"

"It's not like I planned to tell him. It just slipped out," Chris said grumpily, glaring at anyone who dared snicker.

"Why is he yelling in French?" Simon asked.

"Long story. Very long story."

As they sat back down Jim glanced over at Blair, needing to make sure he was all right. Blair caught the glance and smiled, nodding to indicate he was fine. Things were better than fine, but he'd talk with Jim about that later.

Suddenly the shouting stopped and they turned to watch as Ezra very calmly placed the cell phone on the counter. He took a deep breath, retrieved a beer from the fridge as Vin had once again stolen his, and looked back down at the phone. Picking up the phone again, he walked with it and the beer out to the balcony. They watched as he, still very calm, dropped the phone over the side of the rail and listened to it shatter in to a million pieces. A satisfied smile on his face he returned to the table. "My dear mother shall not be bothering you again, Mr. Larabee. I have explained the consequences if she should contact you for anything other than an extreme emergency. I have also explained to her in detail what constitutes an emergency. Shall we continue with the game?"

Everyone just stared at him. Finally Chris managed to say, "You just tossed your phone off the balcony, Ezra."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact, Mr. Larabee."

"You tossed your phone off the balcony, Ezra. You destroyed Agency property."

"Rest assured, Mr. Larabee, that was not the phone given to me by the Agency. That phone is packed in my bag at the hotel. The phone that has met its' demise on Mr. Ellison and Mr. Sandburg's sidewalk was given to me by my dear mother."

Vin was the first to start laughing. The others quickly followed, while Ezra just watched in amusement. Finally they settled down and the game resumed. They played a couple of hands, talking mostly about the conference the next day. Blair got up a couple of times to check the chili. Josiah usually went with him to give him some 'pointers'. Blair's response was usually to just roll his eyes and say, "Uh-huh."

"So, gentlemen," Ezra said finally, "we know how Mr. Sanchez and Sandburg met, how did you two meet, Mr. Ellison? Mr. Tanner?"

"Do you have a problem with first names?" Jim finally demanded, tired of being called Mr. Ellison.

"No, Mr. Ellison. It is impolite to be so informal..."

"I don't care about polite/impolite, formal or not. If you call me Mr. Ellison one more time you're gonna join your phone on the sidewalk. The same way it got there. Understood?"

Ezra stared at him a moment before nodding, "Since you have so eloquently stated your case I shall be more than happy acquiesce to your request, Jim."

"Good."

"Shut up, Vin," Ezra snapped when the Texan snickered next to him. "As I was saying, one would say it is safe to assume you met while in the Rangers. Care to elaborate?"

Part 4