Puzzle

Danae

Disclaimer:  Not mine. No money. No harm. No infringment. Just
fun!  Robin and Ian are mine.  

Thanks to Laura for the beta reading and all the hard work she
does for me.

Thanks to Michelle for the inspiration.  This is all her doing! 
Thank her or blame her, whichever the case may be!

And as ever, thanks to everyone who writes me with feedback.  You
lift me up and help me and you are important to me.  All of you!

Archive?  Absolutely, if you like.

This will be a duology.  Puzzle is part one.

Puzzle

-----------

Blair slammed the door of the old pickup and joined his partner,
who was waiting impatiently in front of the vehicle.  Together,
they strode across the wet grass to where Henri Brown was
standing over a body.  Dan Wolfe, Cascade's medical examiner
knelt at Brown's feet.  The big Native American saw them coming
and gave them a grim smile.  

"What do you have, H?" Jim asked.

"A dead guy.  What's it look like?  Just another lovely day in
Cascade, huh, guys?"

Jim rolled his eyes at the man and turned to Dan for answers.
"Dan?"

"It's a weird one, guys."  Dan handed Jim the man's wallet.  "Our
dead guy was 36.  He has apparently been bled to death."

"You mean, he bled to death?"  Blair corrected.

"Yes, but it seems to have been on purpose, so I would still say
he was bled to death.  And obviously someplace other than here. 
As you can well see, there is no blood here."

Blair grimaced.  "Why would somebody do that?  Where's the blood
then?"

"Maybe we have vampires in Cascade?" Jim joked.

"Jim, man, that's not even funny."  The comment gained him a
frown.

Dan took the statement more seriously than it was intended. 
"Maybe.  But not the kind you think.  Look, there are people out
there that actually drink--"

"Dan!  Don't say it, please!  I just ate breakfast, man,"  Blair
pleaded.

Dan chuckled.  "Anyway, there's nothing supernatural about it. 
They just do it.  Maybe one decided to drink too much."

"Great, binge drinking vampires."

"Jim!  Ugh!  Man, cut it out."

Jim ignored him, par for the course of late.  "Dan, where is the
wound?"

"Wounds, plural.  There's one here in the neck to open the
jugular and both wrists are slashed.  Jim, there's not enough
blood left in this guy to fill a thimble.  He bled to death and
as you might already know, that is not a pleasant way to go. 
However, there are no signs of struggle at all.  No
discolorations, no rope burns, no cuts, nothing.  It's like he
lay there and let it happen."

"Check him for drugs," Jim told him, as he examined the body for
himself.  Blair fell in behind him, sticking close, just in case,
looking for signs of a zone out.

"Might be a little difficult to run a blood test, Jim."

"Oh yeah.  Well, do what you can."  Jim wrinkled his nose at some
thing and Blair put one hand on the man's shoulder.  Jim shrugged
the hand away.

Blair released his shoulder, frowned, and made a mental note of
the reaction.  He would ask Jim about it when they were alone and
probably get his head snapped off in the process.  He scanned the
crowd that had gathered to stare at the grisly scene. A face
caught his eye.  For no professional reason, however.  She was
really pretty.  Chestnut hair, warm brown eyes, and perfect ivory
skin drew his eyes and held them.  She was like a porcelein doll
come to life.  Despite the death in front of her, her countenance
was serene, thoughtful.  Peace emanated from her and Blair felt
his own tension flow away as he watched her. A hand appeared on
her shoulder and he followed the arm up to the man the hand was
attached to.  He was white-haired, old enough to be the woman's
father or grandfather.  At least Blair hoped that was the case. 
The man looked directly at him and Blair dropped his eyes away
from the stern gaze.  He should be ashamed of himself anyway.  He
was there to work with Jim not scope the crowd for dates.  If Jim
noticed, he would be in trouble.  *Again,* Blair thought sadly. 
Ever since Jim had started dating Sybil, he had been distant and
even hostile to Blair.  The tension he had lost in the strange
woman's eyes crept back into his bones and he felt a headache
coming on.

____________________________________________________

She pulled the older man away from the police barricade.  A
puzzled expression marred her serene face.

"Who is he, Robin?"  

"He's special, Uncle Ian.  So is his friend.  I don't know in
what way and I don't know why I know that they are special but I
feel it.  I also feel something wrong in their energy.  I have
the feeling that they should be in harmony with one another but
all I get is discord."  Rich brown and auburn strands of hair
fell about her face as the wind took a toll on her carefully
pinned french twist.

"They may be important later.  We'll deal with that as it comes
to pass.  Did you feel anything else there?"  He opened a car
door for her.  

She made no move to get into the car.  "Just the death, as
always.  The man's memories of his own death."

"But you still can not see her clearly?"

"No.  I'm sorry, Ian."

"Don't apologize.  You are doing the best you can.   We have six
more days to find her before she moves on."

"I believe that is what you said in Montreal, too.  And Houston
and Atlanta and San Diego as well."

"Robin, we can only do our best."

"My best hasn't been good enough.  Too many men are dying in her
quest and I can't stop her.  If only I could somehow meet one of
her victims before he becomes a victim, maybe then I could get
something.  But the world isn't that small, is it?"

"Maybe one day it will be."

"Sure, maybe.  So do we tell them who we are and what we know?"

"Personally, I'd rather not spend the night in jail while she
kills again.  They won't believe us and they'll accuse us.  We
should do this alone from now on until we have something more
concrete to give them.  Get in and let's get out of here before
they realize that we exist."

She almost smiled.  "If they only knew."  She got in.

"I know what you mean."  He closed the door and made his way to
the driver's side.

__________________________________________________

"Sandburg!  Damn it!  Where the hell is that file I asked you for
twenty minutes ago!  Can't you do anything right?!"

Blair was aware of the all the pairs of eyes on him as Jim
screamed at him.  "I told you, Jim, Forensics is not finished
with it," he replied quietly, rubbing his temples.

The look of disgust on Jim's face made him blush and start an
examination of his shoes.  They were the shoes that Jim had
bought him after their last meeting with Sneaks.  Jim had
forgotten to tell Blair that they were going to see the silly
little man with the shoe fetish and Blair had lost his nearly new
Nike crosstrainers.  Jim had replaced them with an even nicer
pair.  He heard Jim pick up the phone and raised his eyes to see
who he was calling.  *A moving company to move me out of the loft
probably.  Or that witch Sybil.*  Blair frowned.

"Cassie, I need the file on the Danberry case.  Are you finished
with it?"  Jim's voice nearly dripped sweetness and light with
the Forensics' chief and Blair's frown deepened.  Jim did not
even like the Forensics chief and yet she got better treatment
than he did.  "Great!  I'll send Sandburg to get it.  Maybe he
can get it back up here without any major problems."

Blair swallowed back the hurt as he had so many other hurts over
the past few weeks.  He got up without a word and started out of
the bullpen.

"Sandburg!  Don't drop the thing and get your ass down there and
back in a hurry.  Don't make me come looking for you."

Blair nodded and disappeared out of the swinging doors.  He
blinked back tears and sighed.  He was tired, physically and
emotionally.  He battled with duel impulses, one to lay down and
not move and one to run from Jim Ellison, Cascade, and all the
rest of it and never look back.  He supposed that he could run
first and then fall over and not move for a while.  Somehow
though, the whole idea just took too much energy to execute and
so he muddled through and hid behind a smile as much as he could. 
The edges of that smile were becoming frayed though.  He knew it
but he did not know what to do about it.  Maybe Jim would chill
out soon.  Maybe Sybil would go away.  What an appropriate name
for the bitchy woman.  With Jim, she was all sticky, gooey,
sugary sweet.  With him, she was a coiled, hissing, poisonous
snake, striking at him every time he moved or spoke.  He hated
her and the feeling was obviously mutual.


_____________________________________________________

Captain Simon Banks watched the exchange between Ellison and
Sandburg with more than a little concern.  They were his best
team ordinarily but over the past few weeks, Jim had become
increasingly hostile and Blair had become increasingly withdrawn. 
Not that he could blame Blair.  With Ellison sniping at him all
the time, it was no wonder the young anthropology grad student
was quiet and subdued.  But it was not natural.  It was not the
way things worked between them normally and Simon was worried
that the partnership would come to an abrupt end if something did
not change and quickly.

"Jim, can I see you in my office?"

"Sure, Captain."  Ellison got up from his desk and followed Simon
into his office.  "What's up, Simon?"

*Okay, he's pleasant enough with me.*  "Jim, what's going on
between you and Sandburg?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." The man before Simon did look truly
puzzled.

Simon shook his head.  "Jim, you have been coming down on Blair's
head for every little thing over the past three weeks, even
things that aren't his fault.  What's up with that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about.  I mean, okay, I guess
I have snapped at him a few times but not anything like you're
suggesting."

"Oh really?  You better talk to the folks in the bullpen.  They
may tell you another story."

Jim sighed.  "Look, Simon, okay, he may be driving me a little
crazier than usual and I may be snapping at him because of it. 
He doesn't like Sybil and he's making her life difficult and it's
making me angry.  There.  Happy?"

"Sybil,  that's the new woman in your life?"

"Yeah.  He's said some really nasty things to her when I wasn't
listening and I guess I'm reacting to it."

"You didn't hear it?  She told you about it?"

"No, Simon, I didn't hear it.  Contrary to popular belief, I do
not hear everything and I certainly don't make a habit out of
eavesdropping on my roommate and my girlfriend.  And yes, she did
tell me about it. I know what you are getting at, Simon, but why
would she lie?"

"Did you ask Blair about it?"

"No, Simon, he'd just obfuscate like he always does to get
himself out of trouble."

"Jim, that's not fair.  You should at least give him a chance to
defend himself against her allegations and clear the air.  You
are not just snapping at him, Jim.  You are brutal.  Haven't you
noticed how he's been acting lately.  If you keep this up, he may
decide that it's not worth putting up with your crap to stick
around."

"Maybe it's best if he does move on, Simon.  I haven't had a zone
out in a while and I know I'm ready to get on with my life.  How
can I share my life with Sybil and be Sandburg's blessed
protector too.  He doesn't leave me a whole lot of time to live
my life, Simon."

Simon was incredulous.  "I can't believe I'm hearing this.  Jim,
a few months ago you were willing to go to the mat with Finkelman
to keep Blair here and working with you and now, you're ready to
get rid of him.  Which is it, Jim?"

Ellison shrugged.  "Maybe he's not worth the aggravation."

Simon felt a cold anger spread through his chest and move up to
his head.  "Jim, he's your friend!" 

"That's his fantasy.  He's a scientist and I'm his lab rat.  And
this rat's tired of being poked and prodded.  He's got enough for
his dissertation."

"Ellison, that kid has been there for you through some sticky
situations and he's done it without training.  He jeopardized his
own career to keep you in yours and save your sanity.  He is
quite possibly the only person in the entire world that
understands what you are, what you can do, and the dangers of it. 
He deserves better than what you are giving him.  Now, you may be
ready to end this partnership but I'm not sure I'm ready to send
you out on the street without him.  I remember what you were like
when your senses were out of control.  You have the potential to
get yourself and/or someone else killed.  You talk to Sandburg
and you get this straightened out.  You hear me?"

"Yes sir."  Jim's sullen face told Simon that he was not happy
with Simon's decision but he accepted it with military stoicism. 
"Can I get back to work now, Sir?"

"Yeah, go."  Simon watched him go.  He was more concerned than
ever.

_________________________________________________________

Jim frowned even more deeply when he saw Blair sitting at his
desk.  "Getting Simon to take up for you now, Sandburg?"

"What?"  Curls bounced around his face as he looked up at Jim.  

"Jesus, you look so stupid with your hair all over your face and
that stupid, *who me* look.  Get a damn clue, Sandburg and cut
your hair. And put on your damn glasses.  At least they give you
the illusion of intelligence."  

The blue eyes closed and the bottom lip disappeared as Sandburg
bit it and swallowed hard.  Jim felt a moment of perverse joy at
the pain on the younger man's face.  "I'm going home, Jim," he
whispered.

"No, you're not.  We have work to do.  And the next time you
manipulate Simon into feeling sorry for you, you'll regret it."

"I haven't said anything to Simon.  What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, right.  Another obfuscation, Sandburg?  Like the one about
Cassie holding up the Danberry file?  Pull your weight, boy or
stop trying to hang out with the men."

"Hey, you know what, Ellison, just kiss my ass, okay!"  He stood
quickly and grabbed for his backpack.

"No way, kid.  I have no idea where it's been and knowing you, I
don't even want to know."

"You bastard."

"Nope, that would be you, Sandburg."

The flinch brought a smile to Jim's face.  He heard Sandburg's
breath catch twice before he started for the door.

"Sandburg!"  Simon's voice boomed, drawing Jim's attention and
stopping the younger man in his tracks.  "Can I see you in my
office?"

"I don't think so, Simon. I need some air."

"Blair, now, please."

"Yeah, go ahead, Sandburg.  Go cry on the captain's shoulder."

"I think I hate you," he whispered.

"Good." Jim smirked.

"Shut up, Ellison!"  Banks yelled.

"Yes sir."
____________________________________________________

"Blair, he doesn't mean all that.  He's just angry because of
some things that you said to his girlfriend that she told him
about.  He can't talk to you about it and this is how his anger
is showing."

"What things?  I haven't said anything to the woman.  I try to
avoid her if I can.  She's a bitch, Simon."

"Have you told her that?"

"No!  Simon, I'm living in Jim's loft.  I would never be rude to
a guest in his home, no matter how rude she is to me.  I just
disappear when she comes around.  I tried at first to get along
with her but she just kept cutting at me.  I don't like her but I
haven't even told Jim that, much less her."

"Well, that's not what she told Jim.  Even so, that's no excuse
for how he's treating you.  Would you like to file a complaint?"

"A complaint?"

"Blair, technically, you are a civilian and therefore you have
the right to file a complaint against Jim for harrassment by a
police officer."

Blair was shaking his head even before Simon was finished.  "I
can't do that, Simon.  He'll get in trouble.  I don't want him to
get in trouble.  Look, I'll just pack some things and go stay in
my office for a while until this blows over."

"Blair, don't get me wrong on this but I can't understand why you
even want to be around when this blows over."

"He's my friend, Simon.  I can't desert him.  He still needs me. 
When he comes to his senses, pardon the pun, he'll be okay.  In
the meantime, watch out for him, okay?"

"You're a better man than me, Blair.  I would just haul off and
pop him one straight in the mouth if he talked to me that way and
then been on my way, never looking back."

"That was me too, at one time.  Well, except the hitting part. 
You know I don't like violence.  But things are different.  I
mean, yeah, it's crossed my mind, but I don't think I could go
through with it.  This friendship means too much to me.  I don't
hate him.  It made me feel better for a split second to say that
out there but it's not true.  Something's wrong and I've just got
to figure out how to fix it or wait until he fixes it himself."

"Okay, get on out of here.  And Blair, get some sleep.  You look
beat. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'll be fine, Simon.  I just have a headache and I didn't sleep
that great last night.  Thanks for asking and thanks for caring,
Simon."

"No problem.  And Blair, none of those things he's been saying is
true, you know that, right?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Blair left the office and walked passed Jim
without a word.  He held his head high and refused to let the
glare he knew he was getting bother him.  Once outside the
bullpen however, his shoulders drooped and he rubbed his
temples.  His head felt like it was ready to explode.  He did not
have time to feel bad.  He had packing to do.

__________________________________________________

Ian Prescott stood back and watched his niece prepare the circle
for her spell inside the living room of the tiny apartment they
had taken.  Robin Fairchild was a graceful beauty.  His sister's
only child was coven leader at 26 years old.  A Wicca priestess
and a pretty powerful psychic, she had somehow connected with the
soul of the very first victim of this dark entity that had killed
so many.  It had all been an unfortunate case of wrong place,
wrong time that involved the young woman in this atrocity.  She
had been walking in the park eight months prior and came across
the body.  She described the visions that followed as horrific. 
She felt what he had felt as he lay dying, for some reason unable
to move or do anything about it, with his blood flowing from his
body.  She felt the cold he felt and the muscle cramps of muscle
tissue deprived of oxygen.  She saw what he had seen with the
exception of a clear picture of the killer.  She had determined
that it was a woman, however. 

She somehow knew that there would be more killings.  Six more in
the next six days, as a matter of fact.  One for each night in
the cycle of the full moon.  Ian shivered.  Signs of ritual and
timing for spell casting led them to suspect that someone of
their own religion may be responsible.  If that were so, however,
then that person had crossed over the line of the Wiccan Rede. 
"An' it harm none, do what you will," he said aloud.  Robin had
researched the facts they had and found an ancient tale of
horror.  A cult of followers of a bloody warrior goddess
sacrificed their lovers and drank their blood.  They were not
Wiccan at all, although the Wiccan people in the area suffered
for the crimes of this cult.  Their ritual had to be performed in
the cycle of the full moon and was supposed to insure pregnancy,
that pregnancy assuring a female child.  Robin speculated that
this woman was unable to have children and had come across this
tale.  Ian shivered again.  Apparently, the woman was insane. 
She killed seven men in San Diego then was gone.  Ian had hoped
that it was over but that was not to be.  

Two months later, Robin began to have dreams of the seven dead
men and an overwhelming urge to go to Atlanta.  She did and the
day after she arrived, the first man was found.  She had tried to
tell the Atlanta Police what she knew and was arrested on
suspicion of the crime herself.  Ian was on route to bail her out
of jail when the next victim was found.  Robin was released with
apologies and Ian remained on in Atlanta with her to try and help
the police catch her.  They had no luck and the woman moved on
and the cycle started again.  And again.  Now, they were in
Cascade with only a one month interval between this murder and
the last set in Montreal.  Robin said that the woman was getting
even more desperate and perhaps had finally lost what little
sanity she had possessed at one time.  

What frightened Robin, and therefore Ian, the most was that the
woman was getting more powerful as time went on.  Apparently, she
did possess some power.  Perhaps she had been Wiccan after all
and did indeed begin to practice the dark arts in her quest for a
child.  In Montreal, a particularly astute detective had gotten
close to her and he ended up dead.  It was ruled a suicide, but
Robin had told Ian a different story.  The man had been attacked,
not a physical attack but a psychic one.  The memory of that
officer brought Robin's earlier words to mind.  The detectives at
the scene were special Robin said but that their energy was
wrong.  He had to ask.

"Robin, the two officers at the scene, do you think that they are
under attack?"

"I'm not sure.  Something is not right with them but this is just
the first murder.  How would she know who was on the case this
quickly?  And why target them until they are a threat?  I'm not
sure what is happening there.  Circle's ready, Uncle."  She stood
in the center of the salt circle, the pentacle pendant around her
neck enclosed in her hand.

He smiled and stepped inside it with her.  Together they lit blue
and silver candles.  When the candles were lit, she handed him a
small bag of herbs.  Ivy, sandalwood, sage and Dragon's Blood
were in the mixture.  All for protection except for the Dragon's
Blood which would act as a catalyst.  The herbs were to be
sprinkled into the candle flames.  They crackled and sparked as
they burned.  He and Robin had never gained the woman's wrath. 
Ian was not sure that the woman even knew about them but Robin
was taking no chances.  New protection spells were cast each time
the killing started again.  He listened to Robin's clear and
soothing voice as she spoke the words of her spell.  The candles
were left burning when the words were done and she handed him a
black stone.  Obsidian, he noted.  Robin carried Malachite.  More
protection they hoped.  She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 
"Be safe, Uncle Ian."

"You, too, Ladybug." 

The smile he got in reward for the use of the childhood nickname
was gleeful and brilliant.  She was beauty personified in Ian's
eyes and his heart ached that such a pure soul should be exposed
to the tainted ugliness of such atrocious acts as these murders. 
They just had to get find this woman and bring her to justice,
and soon, before the light in Robin's eyes was extinguished
forever.

___________________________________________________


Blair sighed and put down the pen.  He rubbed his tired eyes.  He
still was not sleeping well.  The couch in his office was not as
comfortable as he had remembered it being at one time.  Perhaps
that was because before Jim and the loft, he had always just
accepted what was available without thought to the fact that
somewhere there might be something better.  Perhaps though, it
was the pain in the vicinity of his heart that was the problem. 
He drew in a shuddering breath and shook his head.  He was not
going to cry again.  

Jim had not even called in the two days since he had been gone. 
He simply had to face that fact that Jim was glad that he was
gone.  He picked up the pen again and started grading the next
blue exam book on his stack.  It was pretty depressing in and of
itself.  Add that to the depression of losing his best friend and
Blair began to wonder if one could slit their wrists with a ball
point pen.  He pushed the absurd thought back, way back but it
kept creeping forward again.  Finally, he threw the pen down on
the desk and got up.  He grabbed his coat and went out for a walk
around the campus.  It was cold in Cascade and the sky threatened
rain.  "Great, just another day in hell," he commented looking at
the gray sky.  He folded his arms over his chest and walked along
silently.

_________________________________________________

"Ellison!  Get down!  Damn it, Jim!"  Simon could not believe
what he was seeing.  Jim was standing out in the open when the
drug dealers inside the house had started firing and he was still
there.  It was a miracle that the man was not dead.  He was
transfixed, a zone out.  The third one in the less than two days
since Blair had left, unable to take Jim's abuse any longer. 
Simon ordered Rafe to cover him and rushed the oblivious
detective, hitting him with a full body tackle that would make
any defensive back in the NFL proud.  They both hit the ground
hard, the impact bringing Jim out of his zone out.

"What?"

"Shut up, Jim and stay down!" Simon yelled above the sounds of
gunfire over them.

A few minutes later, it was all over.  The bad guys were being
loaded up in squad cars and Simon was pacing in front of Ellison
who was completely quiet, jaw clenched and twitching.

"That's it, Jim!  Okay, the first two were nothing major.  One in
the squad room over the pastry cart and the other in the car
during a chase.  Thank god I was driving or we'd both be dead
right now.  But this!  This almost signed your death warrant and
mine too because I couldn't just watch it happen.  I'm calling
Blair and you will work with him.  Without him, you got squat for
control and I am not going to risk your life or the lives of
other officers for your stubborn pride."

"He'll have to apologize to Sybil."

"No way.  I am not giving that kid an ultimatum, Jim, especially
since I don't know that he did anything to the woman."

"Fine, I'll work with him but he's not coming back to the loft."

"So be it."

"So be it," Ellison repeated before stomping away, leaving Simon
to field the unavoidable questions from the other officers as to
what had taken place.  

Simon swore under his breath.  He had enough to contend with
without Ellison's attitude problem.  There had been another body
found the day before with the same MO as the one the day before
that.  The victim had been bled to death.  There was no sign of
struggle.  The ME had also informed Simon of a little twist that
Simon did not even want to think about.  Apparently, both victims
had had sexual contact just before they died.  They had another
serial killer more than likely, possibly a female, or a male and
female working together, and no leads at all.  As a matter of
fact, they did not even know where the men had been killed. 
Their own residences had been checked with no success.  He pulled
his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled Blair Sandburg's
office.  Hopefully, the young man could be persuaded to come
back.  Although Simon hated to ask given the knowledge of what
Jim had put him through and would probably continue to put him
through, he had no choice.

__________________________________________________

Blair's stomach was all tied up in knots as he drove to the
station.  He had gotten Simon's message when he had returned from
his walk.  Jim needed him and so he was going.  He dreaded it but
it had to be done.  He arrived at the station just in time to get
the call about another dead body, drained of blood, found in a
small park not far from the loft.  

"Get in the truck, Sandburg." Jim did not even look at him when
he gave the order.  Blair followed along behind the detective
obediantly.  He said nothing.  

Once at the crime scene, he did nothing that he was not told to
do and did not open his mouth until he saw her.  She was there
again.  The hair and the eyes were unmistakeable.  "Jim?" he said
quietly.

"What?" the man snapped back.

"See that woman and that man?  They were at the other crime scene
two days ago."

Jim stood and followed Blair's line of sight.  The woman looked
startled and the man began to pull her away.  "Wait a minute!"
Jim yelled and started toward them, Blair right behind him once
again.  They began moving more quickly and then began to run. 
Jim broke into a run as well.  Blair was too tired to run but he
gave it his best shot.  He caught up in time to see Jim grab the
woman roughly.  She screamed and fought him.

"Jim, be careful.  I think you're hurting her!"  Blair called to
his partner.

"Officer, please let my niece go."  The man was amazingly calm in
Blair's opinion but perhaps that was what got through to Jim.  He
let the woman go and she staggered into her uncle's arms.  Her
screams stopped and she held on to the large white-haired man for
support.  

"I'm taking you both in for questioning.  Up against the wall."

"Jim, chill out, man."  Blair came forward and put himself
between his partner and the two strangers.  

"Get out of my way, Sandburg."

Blair reached one hand back and touched the woman's arm in an
effort to soothe her.  She collapsed as soon as he touched her.
"Damn!"  Blair helped the man lower her to the ground.  "What
happened?"

"Robin is very special.  She has abilities that you might not
understand.  I'll be happy to explain if you'll be so kind as to
not arrest us until you've heard me out."  

"You can talk at the station and it had better be good."

"Jim, she needs a doctor!"

"Got a medical degree now, Sandburg?  Or should I call you Dr.
McCoy, or McKay?"

"Young man, she will be fine.  Just please, neither of you touch
her.  I'll carry her to your vehicle."

"You'll be in a squad car." Jim told him.

"That's fine."  He lifted the limp figure from the ground
effortlessly.  Blair smiled at how the man held her cradled so
gently in his arms.

Unfortunately, Jim noticed his distraction.  "Get your ass to the
truck, Sandburg and stop mooning over an unconscious woman.  Even
you can't be that desperate."

The stranger looked at Blair with pity in his eyes and Blair had
to turn away quickly before he dissolved into tears.

______________________________________________________

Robin stirred and opened her eyes. "Where are we?" she asked.

"In the back of a Cascade PD squad car.  Where else?"

She shifted out of his strong arms and sat up.  "Where are they?"

"They are still back at the scene I think.  What happened, Robin? 
What did you get from them?" he whispered, hoping their
*chauffeur* could not hear them.

"Uncle Ian, it was horrible!  They are under attack.  The
detective, the big one, when he grabbed me, I saw this big black
cat and it was howling like it was in pain.  It seemed caged,
trapped and it couldn't get through the hate and anger in the
detective's head."

"So the cat is a benign spirit?"

"Yes.  I'm certain of that."

"And the other one?  You collapsed when he touched you."

"Despair, pain, Great Goddess, the pain he's in.  Exhaustion,
mental, physical and emotional.  He's the main focus of the
attack.  The detective is an instrument of it, not the focus. 
She's using him to hurt the shaman."

"Shaman!"

"That's what he is, Uncle.  Not our discipline, nowhere close,
but he has power and she's afraid of him."

Ian sighed.

"It gets worse.  The shaman is still largely untrained.  He
doesn't know how to protect himself."

"Perfect.  Just perfect."

"Yeah, a perfect mess."

_______________________________________________________

Robin tried hard not to shrink away from the man as he entered
the interrogation room.  His partner, the shaman, entered after
him, looking weary.  Another man, an African American, came into
the room as well.  He placed a hand on the shaman's shoulder and
squeezed it, whispering something in his ear.

"He's fine, Simon," the detective snapped.

"Tone, Ellison."

"Sorry, sir."  The man turned his attention to Robin.  "So, want
to explain why you were at not one, but two of my crime scenes?"

"Robin is special."  Ian answered for her.

"I didn't ask you, I asked her."

Robin met the detective's icy stare with all the serenity she
possessed and saw it make no difference.  She turned away and met
the eyes of the shaman instead.  He took a deep breath and she
could see him visibly relax.  She smiled.

"I asked you a question!"  A big fist struck the table.

"And if you want the answers, you will allow my Uncle Ian to
explain, for I do not intend to talk to you while you throw your
temper tantrums," she replied calmly, never breaking her contact
with the shaman, pouring as much energy as she could into the
hasty link she established.

"Jim, let me handle this, okay?"  The black man moved forward. 
"Mr. Prescott, was it?"

"Yes."

"Please, sir, explain."

"You are?"

"Captain Simon Banks.  This is detective Jim Ellison and his
partner, Blair Sandburg, a consultant for the department."

"Thank you.  Robin and I are Wiccan.  Are you familiar with the
term?"

"I am," Blair Sandburg replied.

"You're witches?" Banks asked, nervousness creeping into his
voice.

"Yes and no."  It was Blair Sandburg that answered.  "Yes, in
that some followers of the Wiccan tradition call themselves
witches and no, in that they put curses on people and fly around
on broomsticks."

"Shut up, Sandburg.  Nobody is interested in what you have to
say,"  Ellison remarked.

"Actually, Jim, I was interested," Banks responded,
sarcastically.  

"Your friend is correct," Ian told them.  "However, there is more
to this.  Robin is a high priestess, a coven leader.  She is also
a psychic.  She is particularly psychic in regards to this
killer."  Ian proceeded to tell them the whole story.  At the
end, the three men in the room with them all had different
expressions on their faces.  

Robin noted each one.  Blair Sandburg was fascinated and
convinced.  Simon Banks was still nervous and skeptical.  Jim
Ellison was furious and completely disbelieving.  It was his
anger that intrigued Robin the most.  Disbelief was normal but
the anger she did not understand.  Then it came to her and she
berated herself silently for not getting it right away.  They had
gotten the killer's attention.  They were targets at last.

"Why didn't you come to us with this to start with and we could
have avoided this misunderstanding?  You have worked with other
police agencies in the other cities.  Why not us?"

"Captain Banks, we simply got tired of being arrested.  Face it,
we have enough information to make us suspects but not enough to
find the killer.  We keep hoping that Robin will finally get a
glimpse of the woman in the visions or luck up and get something
from one of the victims before he ends up a victim and that will
tell us something."

"The odds of that happening are astronomical."  

"I know that, Mr. Sandburg.  Still, we can hope,"  Robin finally
spoke.

"Blair, call me Blair."

"All right, Blair."

"Flirt somewhere else, Sandburg,"  Jim growled.

Blair bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling.  Captain Banks
sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.  Robin could tell the
man was on the verge of exploding and was trying to hold it
together in front of them.  She needed to talk to him alone.

"Anyway," Ian continued, "what you didn't seem to notice was that
each time we have ended up working with the police, it was after
spending the night in jail.  We aren't vigilantes, Captain.  We
never intended to take the law into our own hands exactly.  We
just needed more before we came to you and let you handle it from
there."

"And how are we supposed to know that this whole story isn't a
smoke screen and that you are or aren't the killers?" Ellison
asked, icicles dripping from every word.

"Contact the police departments in Atlanta, Houston, and
Montreal.  Each time in those cities, we were in police custody
while one of the murders took place." Ian told him.

"I intend to do just that.  You don't mind just hanging out here
while I do that, do you?"

"Certainly not," Robin answered.  "In the meantime, Captain
Banks, may I speak with you privately?"

Banks looked puzzled.  "I suppose so.  Jim, Blair, would you
excuse us?  Jim, go check with those departments.  Blair, go get
yourself a cup of coffee.  You look tired."  Banks stopped
Ellison with a hand on his arm as he passed.  "Jim, the lady said
privately.  Got it?"

"Of course, Simon.  What do you take me for?"

"Lately?  I don't know."  The captain gave him a stern look.  

Ellison shrugged.  "I have no idea what you're talking about,
Simon."

"Later."  Banks' tone warned.

"Robin, would you like me to go outside?"  Ian asked her.

"No.  You know most of what I'm about to say."  Quickly, she
turned back to Banks.  "Something is not right with them.  Am I
correct, sir?"

"That is the understatement of the year, Ms. Fairchild."

"Captain Banks, your men are under attack."

"Excuse me?"

"Not a physical attack.  This is a magical or psychic or
psychological attack."  She saw the protest forming and held up
her hand to stop it.  "I know that you don't want to have to
believe in this kind of stuff.  It might not even be as far-
fetched as you think.  It might be something as simple as post-
hypnotic suggestions to something as complicated as an elaborate
spell or even a combination of both but it's there.  And the
killer is responsible for it.  She feels threatened by them.  By
Blair specifically.  Are you aware of what Blair is?"

"He's an Anthropology grad student working on his PhD on
subcultures."

"Okay, you don't have a clue.  Blair is a shaman.  Blair holds
power similar to mine.  He just doesn't know how to use most of
it.  He's only partially trained and most of that was self-taught
apparently.  He functions as a shaman on an instinctual level. 
Even that much though is perceived as a threat by this woman. 
She obviously feels that if he can function at all, he will be
the key to her capture."

"Where does Ellison fit in?"

"Mr. Ellison is her weapon.  Even untrained, Blair would react to
a direct attack on himself, instinctually.  However, weaken him
with an indirect attack, one that he would not see coming and
then insinuate the more direct attack in while he was off-balance
and she rids herself of the threat."

"Damn!  And he wouldn't see it coming from Ellison.  The two of
them are, or were, like family.  Okay, hold on a minute.  Two
things.  One, I can't believe that I am even listening to this. 
Two, I can't see any other explanation for Jim turning on Blair
like he has.  I'm sorry.  I am just having a very hard time with
all this hocus-pocus."  He seemed to realize what he had said and
to whom and gave her a strange look.

She laughed at the horrified look on his face.  "Captain Banks,
you have not really insulted me exactly.  After all, I have never
actually used the words *hocus-pocus* in any of my spells.  I
understand your reluctance.  You were raised in the Christian
tradition.  You hear the word *witch* and automatically think
ugly woman, warts, broomstick, and cats.  Although I do have two
cats back home, I would like to think I am not ugly.  I know that
I have no warts and while I own a broom and use it occasionally,
never once have I used it for transportation."

He smiled at her weakly.  "I'm sorry.  So, if I'm buying this,
what do I do?"

"Talk to Blair.  Tell him that I will help him if he likes.  I
can't without his permission.  It would be unethical.  And watch
them.  I don't think she has enough power to make Mr. Ellison
hurt Blair or it would have already happened.  However, there was
a very nice and competent detective in Montreal that got too
close to her and then inexplicably committed suicide.  He may
have held the gun in his own hand but I believe that she made him
pull the trigger.  Watch them carefully."

"Jesus!  Are you saying I should put Sandburg under a suicide
watch?"

"I just don't know that.  You may have to pull damage control
duty though.  Can you do that?"

"Hell, I'm already doing it the best I can."

"As for Mr. Ellison, he's not going to be receptive to my help so
there's no need to even offer really.  I'm sorry, sir, that I
can't give you something more concrete than that."

A knock on the door stopped Banks' reply.  "Come in."

Ellison entered.  "Apparently, you were telling the truth."  He
threw a file down on the table in front of Captain Banks who
looked at it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fairchild, Mr. Prescott.  You are free to go. 
However, I might want to talk to you again."

"We aren't going anywhere," Ian told the big man.

_____________________________________________________________

Once outside the building, Ian Prescott turned to his niece. 
"Okay, what aren't you saying?"

"It's Ellison.  She has a pretty strong hold on him.  She knows
us now through that link she has with him."

"And?  Come on, Robin, I saw it."

"And I established a small link with Blair Sandburg.  Just enough
to give him a little boost and for me to get impressions from him
without being in his presence."

"You didn't activate anything dormant or send any knowledge along
that link?"

"No!  Of course not.  I told you, his power is different than
mine.  I can't go mucking about with it.  Even if it weren't
unethical, it could be dangerous."

"Okay.  Let's get back home then and strengthen our defenses."

"I just hope I'm good enough," she muttered.

__________________________________________________________

"Blair, need to see you in my office," Simon told the observer as
he passed by Ellison's desk where Blair sat alone.

Obediantly, the young man rose and entered Simon's office. 
"Yeah, Captain?"

"How much stock do you put in this Wicca stuff?  You know, spells
and magic and such?"

"I don't know.  It's not my thing but I can respect it.  It's
like way older than Christianity, even Judaism.  Why?"

"Ms. Fairchild believes that this killer is afraid of you and
that she is making Jim act this way toward you.  She has offered
to help you.  I think her help consists of some kind of spell or
something.  It's probably nonsense but I thought I should give
you the opportunity to decide for yourself."

"Simon, how would this killer know us?  Besides, Sybil is the
reason that Jim is acting this way towards me.  She hates me and
she's jealous of my friendship with Jim.  Nothing magic about
that.  However, I am never above asking for help.  I need all the
help I can get just to get through each day without half killing
myself in some stupid accident or incident that I didn't have any
better sense than to get involved in.  Maybe I'll talk to her."

"Blair, that last part was Jim's rhetoric.  You aren't stupid. 
You are incredibly unlucky, I will give you that.  But not
stupid, Blair, never stupid."

"Thanks, Simon.  Means a lot, man."

"You're welcome.  Just do me a favor.  I need you here with Jim. 
I'm sorry about that, but I do.  Otherwise, though, I want you to
stay away from him.  Okay?  You're starting to believe what he's
been saying and I don't like that."

"Why not believe it?  A lot of it is true.  I am pretty worthless
when it comes to defending myself.  And everybody knows I'm a
bastard."

"See what I mean?  Blair, don't call yourself that.  Look,
kid,--"

"Simon, I really don't want to talk about this any more, okay?"

"Okay, just call me if you need anything.  You have my home
number.  Don't hesitate to use it.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir, and thanks again." 

Simon waved the young man out the door and sat at his desk
watching as Blair approached Ellison's desk.  The man was back
from wherever he had been and Simon could not help but wonder
what was being said as he saw Ellison speak.  He wanted Ellison's
sentinel hearing just for a while.

__________________________________________________________

"He's lying to protect your sensitive feelings, you know?  You
are stupid."

"You were eavesdropping!"  Blair exclaimed. "If Simon finds out-"

"I got to get some use out of the little rat mazes you put me
through, right?  You have to be good for something.  And Simon
had better not find out, kid, or else."

"Or else what, Ellison?"

"That's not a place you want to visit, Sandburg."

"I don't know. Maybe it is, Big Man.  Or else what?!" Blair
raised his voice and heads turned to stare.  Out of the corner of
his eye, Blair saw Simon stand.

"Don't push me, Pretty Boy!"  Jim stood abruptly.  "What are you
going to do, Sandburg?  Talk me to death?  You can't fight.  You
don't have a gun and couldn't shoot it if you did.  You're a
coward.  Why don't you just run away like you always have before? 
Go ahead, run, little boy.  Run home to your mama.  Oh, that's
right, there's no telling where she is, who she's--"

Blair's fist connected with something hard and it took him
several seconds to realize that it was Jim's jaw.  The older man
stumbled backward and fell into his desk chair.  The silence that
followed was deafening.  Blair drew a shuddering breath and
prepared for the retaliation that was surely coming.  He closed
his eyes and felt hands pulling at him just as Jim's roar of rage
began.  He opened his eyes to see Rafe and Brown struggling to
hold onto Jim while Simon stood blocking Jim's path to him in
case he got away from his captors.  It was Taggert's hands he
felt pulling him backward and out of the bullpen.

Simon was shouting for Taggert to get Blair out of there and
Taggert was urging him to do just that.  Blair was unable to say
anything, do anything, think anything.  All he could do was
comply with the soft urging and the gentle hands that pushed and
pulled him along down the halls of the station and to the stairs. 
Once inside the stairwell, Joel's hands pushed him down gently
onto the top step.

"Stay here, unless Jim gets loose, then run like hell.  Got me,
Blair?"

Blair managed to nod.  He was unsure how long he had sat there
before Simon Banks appeared behind him.  Blair took the Observer
ID from his pocket and tried to give it to the captain.

"You hold onto that.  We'll figure this out eventually and you'll
want it."

"Simon, what have I done?"

"You punched a man who had it coming."

"I hit Jim, my best friend.  He's gonna kill me, Simon."

Simon chuckled and Blair glared at him.  "I know, it's not funny. 
But you should have seen the look on the faces of the folks in
the squad room when you laid Jim out in his chair."

"Simon!  I hit Jim and now he's going to kill me."

"He's not going to kill you.  I sent him home.  Rafe and Brown
are escorting him personally.  Blair, he deserved it.  When he,
like you said, pardon the pun, comes to his senses, he'll know
that and things will be fine.  But I will tell you this, there's
something more to this than just this Sybil woman.  I mean, I
don't want to buy into Robin Fairchild's version of this, but
that Sybil would have to be one damn fine woman with a lot of
attributes, if you know what I mean, for Jim to be reacting like
this."

"She's gorgeous on the outside, yeah.  Inside, she's Medusa. 
Just because you don't see the snakes doesn't mean they aren't
there, know what I mean?  I don't know, Simon.  With my luck,
Sybil is the killer."

"Jim would be dead by now though.  Don't you think?"

"Yeah, that blows that theory to hell and back."  Blair cocked
his head to the side.  "Or does it?  Simon, has anybody followed
up on these guys' social lives?  What if they were all seeing a
gorgeous woman right before they turned up dead?"

"You're grasping at straws, Blair.  Besides, you are hardly
objective here.  Just the same, I will have that followed up. 
Not because I think Jim is dating a serial killer but because
these guys might have been.  Go--"  Simon grimaced.

"Home, Simon?  No thanks.  I'll go to my office if you don't
mind."

"See you tomorrow, Blair."

"Sure thing, Simon.  Can I stop by and get a bullet-proof vest on
my way out?"

Blair expected Simon to pick on him, laugh at him, something,
anything besides what he got.  "Whatever makes you safe, Blair. 
Whatever it takes."

_____________________________________________________

Jim parked the truck and stared at the Anthropology building. He
extended his hearing and searched for Blair Sandburg's heartbeat. 
He found it.  The young man was in his office.  He listened for a
few moments longer.  The beat was strong, calm, and slow.  He was
either asleep or in meditation.  Jim got out of the truck.  If
Sandburg thought that he could just punch him and run out, then
he had another thing coming.  Jim walked into the building and
made his way to the basement and to Blair's office door.  The
door was unlocked and he did not bother to knock.

"How you doing there, Chief?" he asked, to announce his presence
more so than as a greeting.  Blue eyes flew open and the young
man hurriedly got to his feet.  "You know, someone might think
that you thought you were perfectly safe sitting here with the
door unlocked and everything."

"What do you want, Jim?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out, Sandburg.  Wow, your
heart is really going now.  You scared?  You should be.  See, I
don't much like the fact that I have to keep you around but
apparently, I do.  So here's the thing.  You are going to get
your stuff together.  You are coming back to the loft and you are
going to teach me how to control this sentinel stuff once and for
all so that I can be rid of you."

"It doesn't work that way, Jim.  You know that."

"The hell it doesn't.  You just want to hold onto your
experiment, Sandburg.  I have figured that out.  Sybil told me
what you are really about."

"If that's so then why come and get me at all?  Why not just let
me go?"

"Because Simon will pull me off the streets unless I can prove to
him I'm in control.  Now, get your stuff and get in the damn
truck."

"I'm not going, Jim.  I'm staying here.  I'll work with you on
the job but I can't stay with you anymore."

"Oh, you want to be homeless.  Is that it?  Perhaps you want to
be friendless as well.  Either you get your stuff and get in that
truck or you kiss this friendship goodbye.  I should warn you,
too, my goodbye is not going to be pleasant.  I will pay you back
for that cheap shot you took today.  That will be my goodbye."

"Jim, the way things seem, you've already said goodbye to our
friendship, so I guess you can take your best shot."  Sandburg
held his arms out away from his body for the blow to come.

"No, that's not the way things are going to be."  Jim grabbed the
long brown curls and used them to drag the young man out of his
office.  He was trying to fight back but Jim shifted his grip to
pin Sandburg's arms to his chest then lifted the young man and
carried him out of the building.

"Why are you doing this, Jim!  Let me go!  I don't want to be
there!  You can't make me stay!"  

By the time they got to the truck, Jim had heard quite enough. 
He flung the anthropologist on the ground beside the truck,
effectively knocking the wind out of him.  While he tried to
catch his breath, Jim pulled his gun and pointed it down at the
gasping man at his feet.  "Shut up!  You hear me!  Shut up or
I'll..."  A wave of dizziness nearly took Jim off his feet. 
Suddenly, he felt as if he were standing outside himself looking
in.  He was horrified at what he saw. "Blair?" he whispered. 
"Oh, Jesus."  He walked away a few feet and raised a shaking hand
to his head.

"Jim?" he heard from behind him, the tone concerned.  His guide,
his friend, Blair.  Anger flared irrationally and he pushed it
away.  Something large and black flashed across his field of
vision for just an instant and then was gone. A hand touched his
shoulder.  "Are you all right?" came the voice again.

Jim watched as he rejoined his other self, the one that hated
Blair so much without any reason.  He watched, helpless to stop
it.  "Get in the damn truck, Sandburg."

"Okay, Jim.  I'll get in the truck."

"It's about time you followed a simple instruction," he growled,
heading for the driver's door himself.

_____________________________________________________

Blair sat silent in the passenger's seat, stealing glances at the
stranger across from him wearing Jim Ellison's skin.  He had
thought, just for a moment back at the University, that his
friend was back.  He saw him, he heard him, but he was gone
again.  

They arrived at 852 Prospect and Blair got out of the truck and
looked up at the third floor of the building.  Once he went
inside the loft, he would be trapped.  He knew he would never be
able to escape with Jim there with him.  He entertained the idea
of running but Jim had a gun, a gun that he had held to Blair's
head less than half-an-hour before.  He walked ahead of Jim into
the building.  He wanted to call Simon but that was not possible
either.  He used his own key to enter the loft and went straight
to his room.  Jim did not try to stop him.  He closed the French
doors and sat on his bed with a sad sigh.  He was a caged animal,
the paned windows in the doors giving the unnerving impression of
bars.  Funny, he had not noticed that before.

He lay back on his bed and grabbed a pillow, tucking it under his
head.  Blair closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. 
It was not working and after half an hour of this forced attempt,
he felt another headache building behind his eyes.  "Man, I am
sick of these headaches," he mumbled, rolling over.  He lay there
for another ten minutes before the pain got too great to ignore. 
"Damn!" he swore, pulling himself upright and off the bed.  He
stared for a moment at the doors of his room.  He did not want to
go out there.  He could hear Jim moving around upstairs.  Perhaps
the man would stay upstairs.  He moved to the closed doors and
opened them as quietly as possible.  He found what he was looking
for and put on water to boil.  Minutes later, he was tiptoeing
around the kitchen sipping his willow bark tea when a knock on
the door caused him to jump. 

"Sandburg, I know your lazy ass is up.  Get the door."

"Okay, Jim."  Blair threw a hostile glance up the stairs as he
reached for the door knob.  He opened the door and quickly added
disgust to the hostility.  "Hello, Sybil."

"What are you doing here?" the woman sneered.  "I thought that
Jim threw you out."

"Jim didn't throw me out.  I left because I wanted to leave."

"Then why are you back?  I thought we were rid of you."

"Because Jim came to my office and dragged me back."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying.  Are you going to stand in the hall or come in?"

"Get out of my way then."

Blair made a show of stepping aside.  She came inside.  "Tell me,
Sybil. Just what did you say to Jim about me?  I heard that you
told him I said rude things to you.  You know that's not true.  I
haven't said a cross word to you.  Why did you tell Jim
otherwise?  Why do you hate me so much?"  Blair knew that he was
pushing his luck.  He was speaking softly as if he did not want
Jim to hear.  Maybe the woman would answer just as softly
thinking that Jim could not hear it.  Maybe Jim would hear the
truth before he killed Blair for confronting his beloved Sybil.

"You know, Jim told me that you have this habit of lying but I
never thought that you would try to lie your way out of this. 
You know very well that you have been rude and hateful to me.  I
only told Jim after he begged me to when he found out I had been
crying because of you.  I have every right to dislike you,
Sandburg, and I want you gone from Jim's life.  I am Jim's life
now.  He doesn't want you or need you around anymore."

"That's where you are wrong.  Jim does need me.  Apparently, he
wants me around too.  Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to get me
from the University.  You have a lot of nerve, lady, telling me
that I have a habit of lying.  You put me to shame, standing
there all indignant over words I never said.  It's all a show,
isn't it?  A show for Jim to prove to him that I'm a monster and
you're some kind of helpless victim.  Well, it won't work, bitch. 
Because I am not giving up, do you hear me?  I am not giving up."

"Poor Blair, never had anybody, did you?  But you got your hooks
into Jim and you can't let go.  Ever wondered why that is?  Could
it be that you're a parasite?  That without Jim, you are nothing? 
You have no life at all unless he provides it?"

"Shut up."  Blair's hands came up to his head involuntarily as
his headache increased threefold.  

"You are only what he makes of you.  Without him, what is your
purpose in life?  You will be without him, Blair.  He doesn't
belong to you.  He's mine now because he wants to be mine."

Blair was dizzy and he stumbled to the couch to sit.  He put his
head in his hands and felt her touch the back of his neck.  "Go
away!  Don't touch me."  He tried to shrug away her hand.  "Ow!"
he gasped as her nails bit into the tender skin.

"Why don't you run along now and die like a good boy?"

"Sybil?  I didn't know you were here!"  Jim's happy voice came
from the top of the stairs.  "Get lost for a while, Sandburg."

"Jim?"  Blair was puzzled.  His sentinel had not heard the woman
come in?  Had not heard the conversation at all?  "Jim, I don't
feel so good.  I'll just go back to my room, okay?"

"Sandburg, when I say lost I mean lost.  Now get out."

"I was out!  You brought me back!  Make up your damn mind!" Blair
snapped and was rewarded with another dizzy spell for the effort.

"Leave, but you had better be back in three hours.  Don't make me
come looking for you."

"Jim, just let him leave.  For good.  You don't need him here. 
You don't want him here.  I don't want him here," Sybil purred.

"Unfortunately, I do need him around at least for a little while
longer.  Sandburg, you should be leaving by now."

Blair got up and made his way to the door.  He picked up his keys
and jacket and left.    

"Three hours, Sandburg!" He heard.

"Go to hell, Jim and take Medusa there with you," he mumbled,
hoping all the while that Jim's sentinel hearing was still turned
off.

_____________________________________________________

"I can't believe that I didn't hear you come in.  I remember
hearing the door and telling Sandburg to answer it but then I
didn't hear a thing until I started down the steps and saw you." 
Jim was puzzled.  "That doesn't make sense.  Sound carries pretty
well in here.  Sandburg moves and I know it."

"You were obviously pre-occupied.  After all, you were getting
all handsome for me, right?  You did remember that I was coming
by tonight, didn't you?"

"Of course.  Doesn't it look like it?" Jim gestured to his nice
black slacks and blue and black sweater.  "Surely you don't think
that I get this dressed up for Sandburg."

"Good.  But, to tell you the truth, you got dressed for nothing."

"For nothing?"

"That's right.  I am just going to undress you again, Jim."

"I was going to make you dinner first.  It would have been ready
already but I had to go get Sandburg and then I had to shower."

"Who needs food, Jim Ellison, when you look good enough to eat."

Jim started to say something else but his mouth was covered and
explored.  He let the comment go and joined in the kiss, wrapping
his arms around the woman.  She ended the kiss and Jim opened his
eyes to stars floating in his field of vision.

"Then again, I could eat," she purred again and Jim felt his
knees get weak.  "What are you going to feed me, Jim?"

"I made a lasagna last night and put it in the refrigerator.  I
just have to heat it up."

"You do that, lover and I'll wait for you right here."  She
slinked onto the couch.  Reluctantly, he moved to the kitchen and
retrieved the lasagna from the refrigerator.  As he turned on the
oven to preheat, he noticed the tea Sandburg had left steeping on
the stove.  He sniffed experimentally at it.  If it were any
good, maybe Sybil and he could finish it.  Willow bark was the
first thing that he picked up.  The kid had a headache evidently. 
Then something else reached his nose and he wrinkled it.  There
was something else in the tea.  Jim tried to identify it but he
could not.  Deciding that Sandburg believed himself to have
discovered the next miracle herb cure, he dumped the tea out and
put the kettle in the sink.  He would make coffee.  

____________________________________________________

Blair did not make it far, just to the park near the loft.  He
walked, not wanting to chance driving the way he felt.  His head
hurt so bad that he could hardly see straight. He plopped down on
a bench and glanced at his watch.  His stomach began to cramp and
he curled up on the bench to wait for the three hours to pass. 
What he really wanted to do was to run away but that required
energy that he just did not have.  

He closed his eyes to direful, dark dreams.  Dreams where he was
cast out of the lives of everyone that he cared for.  Dreams
where he was horribly alone and frightened.  Dreams where
everyone he met told him he was stupid and worthless.  Dreams
where he ended his life and found light and love beyond that
death.  Whispers in his mind told him that he had the answer to
his despair.  *End the pain,* the whispers told him, *end it and
be happy.*

Blair opened his eyes. "No."  He told the whispers firmly.  "I
can't."  Another cramp twisted his insides and he vomited on the
ground beside the bench.  He forced himself to sit up and he
checked his watch.  There was still an hour and a half before he
could go back to the loft.  Before he had to be back at the loft,
he corrected.  It was not exactly where he wanted to be but his
only option.  And the whispers came and reminded him that he had
another option.  "No!"  He ran his fingers though his wayward
curls.  Another option blossomed in his head.  "Simon."  He stood
up from the bench and almost fell back onto it again.  He
steadied himself and headed for the nearest pay phone.  It seemed
to him that the closer he got to the phone the further it moved
away.  He shook his head against the illusion and the action
caused him to sway on his feet.  He held out his arms for balance
and reminded himself not to do that again.  "Oh, man, I'm sick."

__________________________________________________

Ian heard a crash in the tiny kitchen and practically flew from
his chair to Robin's side.  He found her leaning on the counter,
the shattered remains of a coffee pot around her feet.  "What is
it, honey?"

"Something's wrong with Blair Sandburg."

"What?"

"I don't know but we had better find him."

"I'll get the keys."

_________________________________________________

Blair ended up sitting on the ground next to the phone.  At
least, he had managed to dial before he could no longer remain
upright.  He listened to the phone on the other end of the line
ring once, twice, three times.  "Please be there, Simon," he
begged.

"Banks' residence," Simon's strong bass came over the line and
Blair released the breath he was holding.

"Simon?  I'm in trouble.  Nothing unusual for me, huh?  Can you
come and get me?"

"Blair?  Are you hurt?  Please tell me that Jim didn't come to
your office and hurt you, son."

"No, Simon, Jim came to my office and dragged me back to the
loft.  Then when Medusa showed up he threw me out for three hours
and now I'm really sick, Simon."

"Where are you?"

"The park near the loft."

"Hang up and call Jim and tell him I said to get his ass down to
that park and take you to a hospital."

"No, Simon!  Please, can't you come and get me?  She's there,
Simon!  She told me to go die somewhere.  I can't go back there
and I can't call while she's there," he pleaded.

"She said what!?  Okay, Blair, I'm on my way.  You just stay
there, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now I know you're sick.  You just said 'Yes sir.'  Hold on, son,
I'm coming."

"Okay.  But Simon, hurry.  The Whispers may come back and if they
do, I may die."

"Jesus Christ!  Hang up the phone, Blair."

Blair struggled to his knees and hung up the phone like he was
told.  As he sank back down to the ground, he realized that he
did not have anyone to talk to.  His eyes filled with tears as
the Whispers returned.  He placed his hands over his ears but
that did not shut them out.  "No, no, no..." he chanted against
them but they got louder.  He rocked back and forth, heedless of
the few people who passed by him and stared.  Time passed.  He
was unsure how much before the sound of sirens joined the voices
in his ears.  The wailing was off in the distance, but coming
closer.  He spotted the empty beer bottle in the grass not far
away.  *Perfect!* the Whispers told him.  He crawled to the
bottle, grabbed it, and hit it hard again the sidewalk.   The
sirens were closer.  *Hurry!* the voices said.  Blair placed the
sharp broken glass of the neck of the bottle against his left
wrist and froze.  *Do it!*  "No, I can't!"

"Blair!"  

He looked up to see Simon Banks running toward him.  Beyond the
man, he could see his car and an ambulance.  He had not realized
that they had arrived.  "Simon?"

"Blair, put down the bottle!"  Simon urged, the harsh edge of
panic in his voice.  

"Give me a reason, Simon," he begged.  "Please, Simon, give me a
reason not to do it.  I can't make them shut up!  They keep
telling me that I have to do it and I don't want to!"

"You want a reason, kid?  How about because I'll miss you?  How's
that for a reason?  Please, Blair, put it down."

"You'll miss me is a good reason, Simon."  Blair put down the
broken bottle gently on the sidewalk.  The ambulance attendents
came forward then and Blair let them mostly lift him off the
ground and onto the gurney.  They strapped him onto it while he
watched Simon watch him, shock and sorrow on the strong face. 
"You're lying, but it was a good reason," Blair told him softly
as the attendents rolled him toward the ambulance.

"I'm not lying, Blair," The man reached out and stopped the
gurney.  He smoothed a curl from Blair's face.  "Why would say
that?"

"Because why would any one miss me?"

_______________________________________________________

Simon had to consciously keep from clutching his chest against
the pain that bloomed there at the soft question and the sad blue
eyes.  "I'll be at the hospital soon, Blair.  I'm going to the
loft for a minute then I'll be right there.  Okay?"

"No!  Jim'll be mad!  Please, Simon, don't."

"I have to, Blair.  I've had enough of this."  He turned to the
paramedics.  "Go ahead.  Take extra care of him.  I'll be there
soon."

Blair was crying as the gurney rolled into the back of the
ambulance.  Simon turned away from the heartbreak the sound
caused and faced the direction of the loft.  Jim Ellison was
there.  Despite the fact that he was obviously not answering his
phone, Simon knew he was there.  The man was about to have an
uninvited guest.  He hastily got back into his car and drove the
short distance to Ellison's place.  He would have liked to have
the time a walk would have afforded him to calm down but he had
to hurry to get back to Blair.  

Blair Sandburg, the kid that he once described as a hippie
flower-child with time on his hands since the Dead had broken up,
had somehow become a friend.  He thought about how that had
happened on the elevator ride up to the third floor where he
would find a man that he once classifed as a friend as well.  He
was having a hard time reconciling that friend with the man who
had done so much damage to his other friend.  

The elevator opened and he moved swiftly to pound on Jim's door.
Muffled complaints came from inside and then the door opened. 
"Jim, an ambulance just took Blair to the hospital.  Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Excuse me?  To the damn hospital!  Where do you think!?"

"What did he do this time, Simon?"

Simon pushed his way inside the loft.  On the couch sat an
incredibly beautiful woman, her hair a little rumpled and her
lipstick a little smeared but beautiful all the same.  Simon
caught his breath and turned to answer the question.  "He's sick
and he--"

"He what, Simon?"

"It appeared for a minute that he was going to try to commit
suicide."

Instead of the horror Simon expected to see on Jim's face, he saw
disgust.  "Little coward.  Can't take the heat so he tries to
check out.  Figures."

"What!?  What the hell is wrong with you, Ellison?  That kid is
family!"

"Not my family, unless of course, my dad was out playing around,
which is entirely possible."

"Jim, why don't we go over to my place?  I was going to suggest
it anyway before Sandburg got back.  We could get more peace
there.  Come on, let's go."

"Lady, the only place he's going is to the hospital."

"Is that an order, Simon?"  Jim asked.

"Yes, Ellison, it is.  You either follow it or consider yourself
suspended."

"That suspension will never hold up."

"Maybe not, but it will make me happy.  So, what's your choice,
Jim?"

Ellison glared at him with those arctic blue eyes for a moment
then turned to his date.  Sybil, Simon assumed.  "I better follow
orders, Sybil.  I'll have to call you later.  I'm sorry,
Sweetheart.  I'll make it up to you."

The woman's green eyes flashed with rage and Simon could swear
that the temperature in the room dropped a good ten degrees. 
"Fine!  Go see about the little twirp.  You know that he's just
doing this to come between us?"

"I know, baby, but this is my job that we're talking about
apparently.  I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay.  But next time, no interruptions."  She got up and got her
coat.  "Bye, lover." She kissed Ellison's lips and shot Simon a
dirty look before she left.

"This had better be good, Simon," Jim grumbled as he slipped on
his shoes.

"You had just better get there.  I'm going ahead.  Blair was
pretty upset.  Somebody needs to be with him."

"Why does that somebody always have to mean me?" 

"Because you're a sentinel and he's your guide, dammit!  I was
under the impression that it meant something!  Get your ass down
to the hospital!  If you make come find you, I'm going to kick
your ass all the way there!"  Simon stormed out the door and
slammed it behind him.  If he stayed in the same room with
Ellison any longer then he would probably have to hit the man.

__________________________________________________

Simon entered the room where Blair was and instantly started
yelling.  The doctor and the nurse came rushing in.  

"Why is he strapped down like that?  Let him up!"  He pointed to
the bed where Blair lay, crying and struggling against the
straps.

"Captain Banks, your man was about to slit his own wrists.  He's
a danger to himself."

"He's scared to death!  You don't understand.  He's very upset!"

"Captain, he told the paramedics that voices told him to kill
himself!  That's classic schizophrenic behavior."

"He's not schizophrenic!  He's sick!"

"Okay, look, we've run some blood tests and we are waiting on the
results.  This may be drug-induced."

"He's not a drug addict either!  He's not been feeling well the
past few weeks and he's been under a lot of stress."

"Okay, come outside and tell me what's been going on the past few
weeks.  Maybe we can find some other explanation for this.  In
the meantime, I think that we should leave him in restraints so
that he doesn't hurt himself."

"I'm not leaving this room right now.  You can talk to me here." 
Simon pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and touched
Blair's shoulder.  "It's okay, kid.  I'm here.  We're going to
figure out what's going on."

"Simon, I want up.  They won't let me up."

"Blair, just be patient, okay.  Jim's on his way and we'll get
this whole thing straightened out."

"Jim!  No, Simon!  Jim will be mad!"  He started struggling
harder and Simon tried to soothe him.

"Easy, Blair, easy.  Everything's going to be fine."

Another nurse entered and handed the doctor a file.  The man
looked it over and turned to Simon.  "Captain Banks, I put a rush
on these tests because I knew that you wouldn't want to wait when
dealing with one of your own people.  We found something
disturbing, sir.  There is evidence of arsenic in his system."

"Arsenic!"

"Yes, sir.  Not a large amount but certainly enough to make him
sick."

"Enough to cause him to hear voices?"

"I don't know about that, sir, but it could definitely cause the
abdomenal pain and the headaches he complained about.  There's
not enough to kill him but arsenic can build up in the system and
cause a slow lingering death after a period of time.  We need to
run some more tests to determine if he's been exposed to it more
than once."

"So he's been poisoned.  You hear that, Blair?  You've been
poisoned.  That's why you're sick."

"Okay.  She did it,"  the young man spit out.

Simon did not have to ask who she was.   Jim's Sybil was his
suspect too.

"All right, I'm here.  What's going on?"  Jim entered the room
without acknowledging Blair.

"He's been poisoned, Jim.  Arsenic."

"Arsenic?" Jim cocked his head to the side.  "Doesn't that have
an almond smell and taste?"

"Yes, it does actually," the doctor answered.

"He was trying to kill himself then.  He was brewing it in his
tea.  Case closed.  Too bad, kid, you can't even succeed at
suicide."  Jim shrugged.  "May I go now?"

"What?!  Simon, I didn't!"

"Hold on, Blair!  Jim, you knew that there was arsenic in the tea
and you said nothing?"

"Of course not, Simon!  I smelled something different in his tea
earlier and couldn't quite place the scent until now.  I just put
it together.  There you go, puzzle all finished."

"Where is the tea now?"

"I threw it away."

"And the box?"

"In the cupboard, I suppose."

"Then go get it and take it to Cassie.  I want that tea
analyzed."

"Yes, sir.  Right on it."  Ellison left.

"He hates me.  He wants me dead," Blair whispered.

"No, Blair.  That's not it at all."

"I'll order the new tests," the doctor said and then excused
himself from the room.

Simon sat in the chair and absently rubbed the back of Blair's
hand.  

"Simon?  Call Robin Fairchild."

"Blair, witchcraft is utter nonsense."

"Please, Simon, I'm desperate.  What if it isn't?  What if it
wasn't Sybil that tried to kill me but the killer, like Robin
said.  Call, please."

"Okay."  He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and first
called the station to get the number then punched in Robin
Fairchild's number.  "Ms. Fairchild, this is Simon Banks.  I'm
calling in behalf of Blair Sandburg.  He--we need your help."

"I thought you'd never ask."  Came the reply, not over the phone
but in the room.  

Simon jumped, startled by the woman's seemingly sudden
appearance.  "How did you-- never mind."

"I knew he was in trouble.  I can help."

_________________________________________________________

Simon watched the woman as she moved around the room, lighting
black, silver, and blue candles.  He had to admit that Blair
seemed better already.  The first thing that she had done was
remove the restraints holding Blair to the bed and order Simon
and her uncle to move the bed away from the wall.  That done she
had proceeded to pour salt on the floor in a circle surrounding
the bed, muttering words in a language that Simon did not
recognize.  His puzzled expression had gained him an explanation
from Ian Prescott.  His niece spoke her spells in Gaelic when
non-Wiccans were present.  It was her way of protecting them from
making the mistake of trying to repeat the spell on their own and
doing themselves harm.  After the circle came the candles.  Once
the candles were all burning, she pulled a pouch out of her purse
and opened it.  

"Sit up with me, Blair."  She climbed onto the bed alongside the
young man and helped him sit up.  Ian took one of each color
candle to her and she placed them on the bed between herself and
Blair.  More words that Simon did not understand followed as she
sprinkled a handful of the contents of the pouch over the candle
flames.  Simon held his breath and tried to ignore the fire
hazard.  Ian handed her another small pouch and she placed some
of the stuff from the other pouch in it.  Next she pulled what
appeared to be stones out of her skirt pocket and placed two into
the pouch.  She pressed the pouch into Blair's hand.  More words
and Simon watched the lines of pain on Blair's face diminish
somewhat as she held his hands in hers.

"Ian, make us some tea with the herbs in the green pouch.  Hot
tap water will have to do.  It will help with your healing," she
told Blair and the young man nodded.  

"What is all this?" Simon asked, unable to keep silent any
longer.

"It's a protection spell, with a touch of banishing as well. 
Blue and silver candles are for protection, the black for
banishing the negative forces around him.  The herbs were mint
for healing, thistle and ivy for protection, and dragon's blood
as a catalyst.  The tea will be just mint.  The stones were
obsidian and garnet.  Call the small pouch a sort of traveling
protection, a boost to the spell."

"So supposedly, he's safe?"

"I feel better, Simon.  And the voices are gone, completely. 
They went away when she finished the circle."

"The circle forms a barrier to outside influences and magic. 
Hopefully, now, however, you can go outside the circle and be
protected by the spell.  These candles on the bed must be allowed
to burn themselves out because they are the ones tied to the
spell.  Ian and I will take them with us and protect the flames."

Ian handed Blair a cup and Blair drank the tea without
hesitation.

"So he's well now?"

"Well?  No, he still has been poisoned.  The tea will speed his
healing.  What has changed with the circle and the spell is that
she can no longer hurt him magically."

"That would be the voices telling him to slit his wrists?"  Simon
knew his skepticism was showing again.

She smiled indulgently.  "Yes."

"What the hell is going on in here?" The doctor's incredulous
voice caused them all to turn.

Ian was swift and efficient, whisking the doctor outside.  When
the two men returned, the doctor was relatively calm, except for
the worried glances he kept giving the burning candles on the
bed.  "Mr. Sandburg, can you talk to me now?"

"If you're asking can I talk to you and make sense while I do it,
yes.  I think I'm coherent at least.  If you want to know if I
want to slit my wrists still, the answer is a definite no. 
Suicide is *so* not my style."

Simon could not help but smile at the signs of normalcy in Blair. 
"Doctor, when are you planning on performing the tests?"

"We already have, Captain.  It was just a matter of more specific
blood tests.  We had blood samples.  Mr. Sandburg, you have been
exposed to arsenic more than once over a relatively short period
of time.  Much longer and we might have been looking at something
life-threatening.  Can you think back to the approximate time
that you started feeling sick?"

"Sure, three weeks ago when Medusa entered Jim's life and
therefore, my life."

"Are you serious, Blair?  Literally when she and Jim started
dating?"  Simon asked, the trained police officer displacing the
worried friend for just a moment.

"Very serious.  She has access to the loft, too.  She has him so
snowed that I believe she could anything short of blowing me away
with his service revolver and he'd be okay with it.  Matter of
fact, given what happened at the campus--" he stopped and looked
at Simon strangely.

Instant suspicion narrowed Simon's eyes.  "What happened at the
campus, Blair?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't I believe that, Sandburg?"

The young man winced at the use of his last name.  "Simon, could
you do me a favor?  I know this may sound kinda silly but could
you try to use my first name for a while longer?  You were doing
it for a while and, I don't know, never mind."

"Don't never mind me.  What?"

"It's just that you usually call me Sandburg and sometimes Jim
does too but most of the time he calls me Chief or Blair.  Now,
though, if he calls me anything besides stupid or worthless, he
calls me Sandburg.  I just want to hear my first name sometimes. 
It makes me feel better, that's all.  I told you it was stupid."

"It's not stupid, Blair.  Now, no more avoiding the subject. 
What happened at the campus?"

"He just dragged me out of my office by my hair and then carried
me to the truck and threw me on the ground, that's all."

"Are you saying that he kidnapped you from your office?"

"No, that's not it at all.  He just-- just forget it Simon.  He's
not himself, okay?  He would never have done it if he were."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"He pulled his gun on you, didn't he?"  It was Robin Fairchild
that spoke.  Simon glared at the woman as though she were crazy. 
Surely Ellison was not that far gone but he noticed that Blair
was not disputing her.

"No,"  Simon almost whispered.

"But he stopped, Simon!  He was himself for just a few minutes! 
I know he was.  That's why I didn't argue with him anymore and
just went home with him.  He's there somewhere, Simon, I swear."

"That's it.  I'm pulling his badge and gun."

"No!"

"Gentlemen!" the doctor exclaimed.  "If I could please continue. 
Mr. Sandburg, the poison will work its way through your system. 
Your condition is not life-threatening although I still do not
understand the voices and the suicide attempt.  Dementia is not
unheard of in poisonings but it's a last stage thing before death
so I don't get it.  Anyway, because of your attempt, you have at
least a 48 hours stay ahead of you and a psych profile to get
through.  We will be transferring you to the psychiatric ward
shortly.  I hope your religious rite thing will be over by then."
He gestured to the candles and the salt circle on the floor while
he spoke.

"Pysch profile!  I don't need a psych profile!  I'm fine.  It's
Sybil that needs a psych profile.  How's that for irony?  She's
crazy and I get the psychiatrist!  And Jim!  Jim may need a psych
profile but I'm fine!  Simon, help me here."

Simon rubbed his face with one hand.  "Blair, it's state
mandated."

"Perfect!  Jim's out there with Ms. Congeniality and I'm stuck
here.  She did this to me, and Jim is completely deaf, dumb, and
blind when it comes to her."  Blair seemed too upset to grasp the
gravity of what he had just said but it did not escape Simon. 
Perhaps it was the look on Simon's face that clued the young man
in.  "Wait a minute!"

Simon looked at Robin Fairchild, willing her to step outside so
that he and Blair could have this conversation privately. 
However, the look on her face as she and her uncle gazed at one
another gave him another pause and the whole puzzle came
together.  "Oh my god."

Silence reigned supreme as each person in the room got the whole
picture for the first time.

______________________________________________________

"I can't believe that it took us this long to figure this out."
Robin broke the deafening silence.  

"I can't believe that this woman would be arrogant enough to
target a police officer," Simon said.

"I can't believe that Jim is sleeping with a serial killer."

"Blair!"  Simon scolded.

"I should have seen this before.  She targeted you right away
even before the first killing.  Big giant clue number one I
missed.  The cat, clue number two."

"You saw the panther?" Blair asked the woman.

"Yes, when he grabbed me in the alley."

"Why form a relationship with the guy you're going to kill?" 
Simon asked and Blair found that he wanted that answer too.

"According to the legend, a relationship was essential for the
ritual to work.  A stranger wouldn't do.  She establishes a
relationship with them, sleeps with them, then lures them
somewhere and kills them during the cycle of the full moon."

"Good Lord!  She was trying to get Jim to leave with her when I
burst in there tonight.  Well, last night," he amended, with a
glance at his watch.  "He was supposed to be next."

"Oh man, Simon!  Where's Jim?  You gotta find him."

"He should be fine now, Blair.  Simon disrupted her.  She
probably moved on to the next man on her list,"  Robin assured.

"Great.  We'll still have a body to find tomorrow.  Just the
same, I'm going to step out and make some calls.  More than
likely, he's at the lab still." Simon stood.

"You don't have to go anywhere, Simon.  Use your cell."  Blair
urged.

"I need to get some air, S--Blair.  I'll be back."  Blair noticed
the exchange between Simon and Ian as Simon made his way out of
the room.  Ian dismissed himself and followed.

"Apparently, it's something he doesn't want me to hear,"  Blair
grumbled.

"Blair, I am sure Jim is safe.  If not, you would know.  Despite
everything, you and he have a bond between you.  I noticed it the
first time I saw you.  That bond is what she was so afraid of and
why she tried so hard to destroy you.  Look inside and you'll
see, Jim's alive.  At war with forces that he doesn't know how to
fight, but alive just the same.  Do you feel it?"

Blair closed his eyes and concentrated on Jim. He winced.  "Yeah,
he's alive but you're right.  Something is off.  The panther is
trapped.  He can't reach Jim and he is not a happy kitty."  He
opened his eyes.  "Wow, did I do that?"

"With a little boost from me.  You'll have to practice but you
can do it on your own."

"Can he do that with me?"

"Not exactly but sort of.  I don't sense the ablilty within him
to do what you can do but his instincts where you are concerned
are very sharp because of your bond."

Blair leaned back and pondered this new information.

_____________________________________________________

"Is she sure that Jim's okay?"  Simon asked Prescott.

"For tonight, yes.  She'll come back for him, though.  She
chooses the men very carefully.  Each has qualities that drew her
to them.  Your Mr. Ellison was chosen carefully and just because
you were able to interfere with her plans does not mean that he
is safe."

Simon thanked the man and pulled out his cell phone.  He had
calls to make.  A few hours later, he knew several things. 
First, that all of Blair's willow bark tea was laced with
arsenic.  Secondly, that Jim had gone to the loft to collect the
rest of Blair's herbal teas and various other concoctions and
returned them to Cassie for testing.  Sure enough, there were
traces of arsenic in several of them.  Jim had ordered his own
loft sealed as a crime scene and Forensics was there checking out
the whole place.  At least Jim was behaving like a cop and Simon
felt relief with that knowledge.  Jim had tried to reach Sybil
and was unsuccessful.  He had been planning to spend the rest of
the night at the woman's house but when he couldn't get in touch
with her he opted for the couch in Simon's office.  More relief
for Simon.  He tried not to think about the body they were sure
to find with the morning light.  

________________________________________________________

Blair had begged Robin to come with him up to the psych ward and
redraw the circle.  She indulged him although she tried to
convince him that he no longer needed the circle.  Simon tried to
tell him that it would just give the psychiatrists more reason to
believe that he was crazy but he was adamant.  He wanted that
circle so Simon arranged it and she drew it.  She and her uncle
left afterward and took the candles with them, promising him that
the flames would go out on their own and he would be safe.  He 
lay back and slept peacefully the rest of the night.   

When he awoke in the morning, he was surprised to find that his
headache was gone and that his stomach was feeling a little more
normal.  Aches and pains were diminishing and he was clear-headed
and rested.  He made a mental note to learn more about Wicca. 
And more about Robin Fairchild in particular.  Guilt knocked on
the door of his consciousness.  Jim was in serious trouble and he
was making plans for his love life.  He frowned a little and
turned his thoughts back to helping Jim.  How he was going to
manage it from the psych ward was beyond him but he set his mind
to it anyway.

He was still deep in thought when Jim came in.  "Jim, we have to
talk, big guy."

"Save it, Sandburg.  Simon has already told me about your stupid
idea that Sybil is the killer.  It's ridiculous."

"I see."  Blair watched the man who was his friend as he
carefully stayed outside the perimeter of Robin's protective
circle.  "Jim, why don't you come closer?  You may have sentinel
eyes and ears, man, but I don't and I don't even have my glasses
either."

"You don't need your glasses to see far away but nice try."

"Why can't you come closer, Jim, please."

"I can come closer.  I don't want to come closer."

"Why not?"

"Why would I want to get any closer to you?"

"Please, Jim."  This was what he wanted.  He did not tell Robin
and Simon but this is what he had in mind when he asked for the
circle.  He knew that officers working on his case would have
access to him in the ward.  Simon had arranged that and he had
hoped that Jim would come.  If what Robin said was true, if he
could get Jim inside the circle then he would have a chance to
reach his friend.

"Fine, Sandburg.  If it's absolutely necessary to shut up your
whining."  He took a step.  However, his foot seemed to purposely
drag across the salt line breaking the circle.  Blair almost
screamed in frustration.  "Happy now?"

"Why did you break the circle, Jim?"

"I'm asking the questions here, Sandburg.  Why did you
deliberately poison yourself and try to frame Sybil?"

"That's a load of bull, Jim!"

"Is it now?  Funny how those amounts were never lethal.  I think
that you knew that Sybil was going to put you out of the loft and
you decided to try to get rid of her.  Couldn't kill her, right,
seeing as how you're a pacifist, so you frame her."

"You're crazy."

"I'm not the one in psych ward, Sandburg."

"Well, maybe you should be!"

"Hello, Mr. Ellison."  

Blair saw Robin Fairchild in the doorway.  "He broke the circle,
Robin."

"You don't need the circle, Blair."

"Don't you see?  It wasn't for me!"

"How did you get in here, Ms. Fairchild?  His visitors are
supposed to be restricted to police officers."

"Captain Banks made an exception for me and gave the hospital no
choice.  I see now, Blair.  I'll fix it.  Sorry I'm a little slow
on the uptake these days.  Captain Banks, could you come in here
please?"  Simon appeared beside her.  She began to speak in
Gaelic again as she moved into the room.  Reaching one hand into
her bag, she moved to the edge of the circle where Jim had
scattered the salt.  Jim moved suddenly to leave the room but
Blair grabbed his arm and Simon blocked him.  Drawing her hand
out of the bag she filled in the broken segment of the circle,
trapping Jim inside it.  The effect was drastic and sudden. 
Simon had to shift quickly from a block to a support as the man
all but collapsed.  Simon eased him into a chair as Robin
approached.  "I can't do more without his permission."

"It was a trap.  You guys were setting a trap," Blair announced.

"Well, you gave us the idea when you insisted on the circle. 
Apparently, you were way ahead of us."  Robin smiled at him.

"And Jim?"

"What, Chief?  Damn, I feel like I have been hit by a semi."

"Jim?" Blair swallowed hard and waited for the back lash.

Jim Ellison raised his head.  The eyes that met Blair's were full
of anguish.  "Dear God, what have I been doing?  Blair?"

Blair looked away.  "It's not your fault.  You haven't been
yourself lately."

"Then why won't you look at me?  Jesus, Blair!  The things I've
said and done, I--"

Blair met his eyes again.  "You didn't mean them, did you?"

"No!  Of course not, Buddy, but I don't understand.  Why?  What
the hell is wrong with me? I'm so sorry, Blair.  How can you ever
forgive me?"

"Jim, perhaps I should explain."  Robin touched Jim's arm and
drew his eyes away from Blair.  Blair was glad.  Another minute
and he would have been crying.

Jim sat silent for Robin's explanation, too silent in fact.  He
seemed to be in a state of shock.  She held nothing back.  Sybil
was a killer and she was trying to kill both Blair and Jim; 
Blair because he was in her way and Jim as part of her twisted
ritual.  At the end, Jim sat shaking his head slightly.  

"Why would I do and say those things?  There's no excuse for what
I've done.  Don't you understand?  You're telling me that I've
been under some kind of magic spell.  That's ridiculous.  I don't
believe in that crap.  Blair, you should hate me.  I'm so sorry."

"Crap?  Then you explain the events that have taken place, Mr.
Ellison.  Would you rather believe that for some reason even you
can't remember you decided to abuse your best friend and partner? 
Explain why you couldn't or wouldn't cross over into the circle
while it was intact.  Explain the change in your behavior.  Why
now do you feel differently?  You don't have to believe in magic
to be affected by it.  That's why I always gain permission from a
subject before I cast a spell.  Besides, you have no trouble
accepting a panther as a benign spiritual guide.  What's the big
stretch in regards to Wicca and magic?"

"You know about the panther?"

"I saw it when you grabbed me in the alley.  He was trapped
somehow and could not reach you."

"My god."

The invocation brought an indulgent smile to Robin's face. 
"Well, between your god and my Goddess, perhaps we can manage to
keep both you and Blair alive."

"I'm not sure I can buy into this but you're right about one
thing.  I don't have another explanation beyond that I just
decided to be a bastard to Blair."

"No, that would be me,"  Blair mumbled, recalling Jim's words to
him in the bullpen while simultaneously forgetting Jim's sentinel
hearing.

"Aww, damn, Blair, I am so very sorry.  You hate me now, don't
you?"

"No!  I don't hate you.  I didn't mean that when I said it."

"Well, you should hate me.  You pack a hell of a punch, too,
Chief."

"I was hoping you didn't remember that part."

"I remember it, Blair.  All of it.  You should have hit me more
than once."

"Jim, we need to focus on what we need to do to stop this," Simon
spoke up.

Blair watched Jim's gaze shift around the room to each of them. 
Blair first, then Simon and then Robin fell under the sentinel's
gaze.  

"Do what you have to, Ms. Fairchild."

Blair released the breath he was holding and noticed that the
others did the same.  His Jim was back.

________________________________________________________

It was not as simple as all that, however.  They all noticed it,
Jim most of all.  Robin performed a protection spell for Jim and
he was able to pass outside the circle without losing control of
his own will, although he could feel something battering at the
shield the spell provided.  He wondered if his sentinel senses
were the reason for that awareness.  He wanted to ask Blair if he
felt such sensations but he did not with Robin present.  Over the
next few hours, while the four of them discussed strategy, Jim
watched as his friend hesitated and gave him shy glances before
he spoke and visibly braced himself each time Jim responded
directly to him.  Jim mentally kicked himself each time.  His
partner already had severe doubts about his own self-worth at
times and Jim had given him more doubts and more reasons for
those doubts.  

Even Simon seemed nervous around him.  The man seemed to be
trying still to run interference for Blair with Jim.  Jim tried
to feel grateful to his captain for the concern the man was
showing toward Blair. However, it was just another reminder of
the damage he had done.  It made his stomach roll and his heart
ache.

Only Robin Fairchild did not treat him like the jackass he had
been.  He supposed that was because the woman truly believed that
he had been under some evil influence and had been freed from it
by her spell.  Jim really wanted to believe that and he had to
admit that he felt completely different under her supposedly
protective spell.  He also had to admit that the feeling of being
under attack was very real.  He felt vibrations around him.  It
was sort of like standing in a bunker while bombs were dropped in
the vicinity.  The bunker was strong and the bombs were not that
close, just close enough to cause concern.  If he gave in and
believed, then Robin had built that bunker and Sybil was
attacking him, and he had attacked Blair because of Sybil. Also,
Sybil had poisoned Blair and tried unsuccessfully to force the
young man to commit suicide and magic was real.  He followed that
reasoning pretty well up to that magic being real part.  

Robin seemed to notice him drifting from the conversation then
and reached out to touch his hand.  He started to pull away
remembering the reaction his touch had gotten in the alley but
she caught the fleeing hand and smiled.

"It's all right now, Mr. Ellison.  We can beat her now."

"I hope so."  He looked up at Blair but the younger man turned
away.

_______________________________________________________

Their plan was relatively simple.  Jim was the bait.  Robin
warned that the woman would know that he was no longer under her
control but that she would not give up on him.  That meant that
she would try harder.  Jim was to call the woman and act as if he
did not suspect her.  He would ask her to dinner and then attend
the dinner wearing a wire.  They would be followed from dinner
and the woman would be apprehended in the act of performing the
ritual.  Simon had hated to do it but he pointed out that victims
all had had sexual contact before they were killed.  

Jim had blanched and Blair almost choked on the water he was
drinking.  Only Robin Fairchild had taken that information
calmly.  The woman offered to give Jim a word that he could use
to remove her protection spell so that he would be able to
perform.  Simon joined the ranks of the stunned and horrified at
that statement.  She seemed not to notice but continued to
explain that he could wait until the last possible moment and use
the word.  It was dangerous because it would open him up to her
control again.  However, if he timed it just right, then his
rescuers would already know where he was.  If he did not perform,
the woman calmly pointed out, they had no way of knowing that she
wouldn't kill him out of anger before they could get to him.  No
one pointed out that it was a possibility that she could do that
anyway.

Simon sighed.  His best detective was the target of a serial
killer with abilities that he did not even want to think about. 
Jim was not ready for this battle.  The man walked around like he
was shell-shocked.  He was pre-occupied and Simon was not sure if
that was because he was trying to digest the idea of him almost
becoming a victim, the idea of magic, or the idea that he was
responsible for the shell that was left of Blair Sandburg.

And speaking of poor Sandburg, Blair was a wreck emotionally. 
The kid had taken a lot of abuse from Jim and still came back for
more.  It had taken a toll on him though, and Simon worried about
the kid.  He was still too subdued to qualify as normal.  He
seemed to shrink whenever Jim walked into the room.  He checked
everything he said before he said it and then waited for a bomb
to drop on his head afterward. 

Then there was the problem of Robin Fairchild herself.  Only she
and her uncle truly understood anything that was going on
completely.  Simon had been forced to admit that and to allow the
young woman and her currently absent uncle to participate in the
operation.  In spite of everything he had seen, he was still
skeptical about magic but he felt some kind of power emanating
from Robin Fairchild just the same.  He hoped that her ability
and police training would be enough to take this killer down. 
One mistake on either part could mean the end of Jim Ellison's
life.

The body had been found while they made their plans and Jim had
left to go to the scene.  That left Simon to try to pull more
strings than he ever wanted to deal with to try to get Blair out
of the psych ward so that they could put their plan into action. 
They could have gone ahead without the young man, but Jim did not
want to, Robin did not like the idea, and Simon found himself the
object of one of Blair's puppy-dog looks and he melted.  By the
time he had Blair's special release papers in his hand, he felt
qualified for the title of master puppeteer.  He picked up the
kid and drove him back to the station.  

Simon was not prepared for what happened when they entered the
squad room.  Jim had returned from the crime scene and was
working at his desk.  Simon held the door open for Blair and
entered behind the young man.  The squad room fell silent and all
eyes moved from Blair to Jim and back.  Blair swallowed hard and
his eyes darted about looking for an escape route, the most
convenient one being blocked by Simon himself.  Jim stood and
Simon saw the eyes of the officers present fix on the man,
seemingly challenging him to say something.  Brown approached
Blair and Simon felt the anthropologist bump into him as he took
a step back.  Simon pushed him forward again.  

"Welcome back, Hairboy."  Brown smiled and slapped Blair on the
shoulder affectionately.  

"Thanks, man,"  Blair whispered and drew a shuddering breath.

Brown turned to face Ellison and though Simon could not see
Brown's face, he saw Jim's blush before the man could drop his
head.  More well-wishers moved up but Blair brushed by them
quickly, graciously accepting their welcomes and sentiments but
with his focus on his sentinel.  Simon knew that Blair had seen
what he had seen.  Jim's co-workers were ostracizing the man and
taking up for Blair.  He also knew that the part of Blair that
was Jim's guide would not, no matter how he was hurting, no
matter how badly he had been treated, allow that to continue.  He
stopped in front of Jim's desk.  Silence descended again,
waiting, watching.

"Jim?"  Blair extended his hand out to Jim.  

Ellison raised his eyes first to Blair's then to Simon's.  Simon
nodded once.  Jim met his partner's eyes again and gripped the
younger man's hand but he did not stop at a handshake.  Still
holding onto Blair's hand, he came around his desk and lifted his
other hand to grasp Blair's curls.  Gingerly, he used them to
pull Blair into an embrace.  Blair seemed stunned at first then
let his arms encircle the bigger man and returned the hug.  Sighs
of relief and more than a few smiles were the result.  Simon felt
the tension that had been building up in him flow away.  When the
embrace ended, Simon witnessed both men swipe at their faces at
what might have been tears.  Out of courtesy, everyone got
quickly back to work and did not mention the conspicious wetness
around their eyes.  Since no one was looking, Simon took the
opportunity to swipe at his own face once as well.

_________________________________________________________

They sat in Jim's loft waiting for the right time.  Robin met her
uncle's eyes and smiled.  It was almost over.  The eight month
ordeal that caused her to put her entire life on hold was about
to come to an end.  For better or for worse, this monster had to
be destroyed.  She only hoped that she would be able to protect
the brave souls who would have to do the deed.  With that
thought, she examined Blair Sandburg closely through the link she
had established with him.  He was determined but his self-esteem
was shaky.  He had been damaged badly psychologically by the
emotional abuse he had taken while his partner was under the
influence of an insidious spell cast by a hateful and vicious
killer.  

Said partner was not in much better shape.  He tip-toed around
Blair and constantly apologized for anything and everything that
was not just the softest of requests and statements.  He threw
furtive glances in Blair's direction when he thought the young
man was not looking, anxiousness and pain in his sky blue eyes.  

She sighed.  They needed to be on more solid ground for this
challenge but given the circumstances, she knew that was
impossible.  Too much pain was between them and she was very
tempted to curse the bringer of that pain.  Only her knowledge
that the curse would come back to her threefold stopped her. 
Besides, she knew that her part in this confrontation was not to
be aggressive but to be the shield for those who would be the
instruments of the woman's destruction.  She knew also that Blair
would be the key player.

_____________________________________________________

Jim took a deep breath and picked up the phone.  Slowly he
dialled Sybil's number.  Sybil.  His mind was clear and he was
appalled at his own inability to see the truth.  He did not know
anything about her.  Not even her address or her last name.  He
had been such a fool.  Or maybe, if he believed Robin, a victim. 
He wanted to believe it, but his conscience would not let him. 
He knew who the victim was.  He stole another glance at Blair as
he listened to the phone on the other end of the line ring. 
Perhaps he might have become a victim had it not been for Robin,
Blair and Simon, but as things stood, the only casualty was his
best friend.  The woman's voice on the other end of the phone
surprised him out of his thoughts.

"Sybil," he swallowed hard and tried to force a little
cheerfulness and sincerity into his voice, "hi, baby. I promised
to make it up to you and I want to do that tonight."  He listened
to her response and could hear the suspicion in her voice but she
allowed him to persuade her to meet him at Angelo's for dinner. 
Afterward, she told him, they could come back to her place for
drinks and more.  Jim pretended to be intrigued and excited by
the open invitation in her voice.  He hung up the phone and
turned to Robin.  "You'd better give me that word now."  He
closed his eyes against the looks of pity he was receiving from
the others in the room.  Robin wrote the word on a strip of paper
and handed it to him.

"Don't even look at it until you need it and if you can, try not
to use it at all."

Jim felt his stomach roll.  "Excuse me."  He made his way into
the bathroom and barely got the door closed before he fell to his
knees and was violently ill.

______________________________________________________

Blair put one hand on the bathroom door.  "Jim, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," came the muffled response.  "Would you get me a beer,
Chief?"

"Okay."  By the time Blair got back from the kitchen with the
beer, Jim was coming out of the bathroom.  His sentinel looked
pale.  "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jim took the beer with one hand and rubbed Blair's shoulder with
the other.  "I'm sure, Chief.  Let's just say that this is not
going to fun for me and my stomach is rebelling against my head."

Blair nodded.  "Been there, man."

"I know you have, Chief."

Blair dropped his eyes, afraid to meet Jim's anymore for the
moment.  It was hard not to cry.  It was hard not to cringe away
every time his friend touched him.  It was hard to remember that
the real Jim was back and that he was not going to berate and
belittle him if he spoke his mind.  He did not want to feel this
way but he could not seem to help it, which made him feel just as
stupid and cowardly as Jim had been saying over the last three
and a half weeks.  "I'm going to lie down for a while.  I feel
kinda tired."

"Okay, Chief.  Get some rest."

Blair only nodded and walked into his room.  Moments later, he
heard the doors of his room open.  He opened his eyes.  Robin
Fairchild sat down on the end of his bed.  He sat up.  "What's
up?"

"Blair, I thought that you should know that this will be as much
a battle of wills and minds as it will be a physical one. 
Perhaps even more so.  You will have a very large role in this."

"You're trying to tell me that I may have to face her, aren't
you?  That I may have to be this shaman that everybody seems to
think I am.  Well, everybody but Simon.  Simon does not want to
hear about any magic, or spirits, or panthers that only one or
two people can see."

"I noticed that about him." Robin smiled.

"Yeah, me too and I say thank god for him.  Especially now.  I
wouldn't be here right now if not for him.  You know, I thought
that he just sorta tolerated me because of Jim, but he has been
there for me these last few weeks when Jim-- well, when Jim
wasn't."

"What happened with Jim is not his fault.  Anymore than you
holding that broken bottle to your wrist was yours.  Outside
forces caused this rift between you and you have to heal it."

"You know, it's like part of my brain knows that.  Another part
of my brain keeps saying don't forgive him, don't forget, it's
how he really feels and this just gave him the chance to say it. 
Still another part says this whole thing is not happening and I'm
are going to wake up from this nightmare anytime now. When I
do, I'll realize that magic is not real and Sybil is just your
garden variety bitch from hell."

"So which part will you listen to?"

"I don't know yet, Robin.  I just don't know."

_______________________________________________________

Jim forced a smile onto his face and stood as Sybil approached
the table.  She was still stunning even without the benefit of
her blinding spell that blocked out everything she did not want
him to see or hear.  She held out her hands to him and he took
them in both of hers.  When he did, he felt a shiver of
electricity flow through him and wondered what it meant.  She
leaned forward and kissed him.  He knew he was the object of envy
for all the other men in the room.  He pushed back a hysterical
urge to shout out, *hey, be my guest!* to all those faces staring
at him.  He pulled her chair out for her and she sat.  He took
his own seat again.  The conversation that followed was absurdly
normal, almost to the point of inane.  The waiter got their drink
orders and hurried away to get them.  By the time he returned
with the drinks, Jim knew something was wrong.  The room around
him blurred and his sentinel sight blinded him with bright
flashes and dark spots.  He raised a shaking hand to his head.  

"Oh dear, I think that I may have overdone it.  We had better get
you out of here."  he heard the woman across from him say.  "Come
darling, I have plans for us tonight."  She stood and pulled him
up from the chair.  "Lean on me."  Jim  mostly heard rather than
saw the waiter rush back over and heard the man offer to call an
ambulance. He tried to speak but found that he could not force
anything past his lips.  Sybil assured the man that her date was
just feeling a little dizzy.  

Jim hoped that Simon and the others were paying close attention
as the woman led him out of the restaurant and to her car.  He
tried to lift his head to locate his friends and backup but could
not.  His hearing began to cut out on him as well.  He tried to
speak again and managed to make a few sounds that resembled
words.  He sounded very, very drunk.  

"Don't worry, sweetheart.  I'm going to take very good care of
you and you'll never feel a thing.  Well, actually, that's a lie. 
You'll feel it, you just won't be able to do anything about it. 
And don't worry about disappointing me either.  I have the
solution to that little problem as well.  I've thought of
everything."

Jim could only hope the wire he hid in his jacket was picking up. 
They had just placed it in his jacket rather that taping it to
him because as much as he did not like to think about it, at some
point his clothes would be coming off.  Sybil got him into her
car and circled around to the driver's side.  Jim leaned his head
on the window and sent silent pleas out to Robin Fairchild, Simon
Banks, and most of all, Blair, his guide, his best friend.

_____________________________________________________

"Can't we arrest her now?" Blair asked, anxious about his
sentinel's condition as he was half-dragged to Sybil's waiting
car.

"On kidnapping maybe but we need to tie her to the murders.  We
don't have enough for that yet.  Sweet Jesus, she didn't waste
any time."  Simon swore.

"She knows that he at least suspects.  She can't lose him.  In
her twisted mind, she has to complete the ritual to obtain what
she wants.  She's too far gone to realize that it is
unobtainable." Ian told the captain.

"She's insane."

"Precisely." Robin answered.

"Just don't lose her, Simon."

"I'm not going to lose her, San--Blair."

A small smile crossed the younger man's lips. "Sorry."

Simon shook his head and concentrated on keeping sight of the car
in front of them.  The vehicle left the city limits and drove far
out into the suburbs, all the while the wire was silent.  Simon
had been hoping that the woman would talk about the murders on
the way to her destination, thus saving Jim from the
unpleasantness that awaited him.  Finally, in a wooded
subdivision, the car pulled to a stop in front of a modest little
brick house.  Simon quickly flipped the headlights off and pulled
off the side of the road.  

From a safe distance, they watched as the woman pulled Jim from
the car.  The two of them disappeared into the woman's house and
Simon got out of the car.  "Stay here," he ordered.

"We can't do that, Captain Banks.  Don't ask me to explain but we
have to go with you."  Robin got out and stood beside him.  "Call
in your backup but the fact of the matter is that we have to do
this on our own."

Simon rubbed his temples.  "Fine, fine.  I'm not even going to
pretend to understand this anymore."

Blair had gotten out of the car as well and Robin reached out for
his hand.  He took it and Simon stifled another protest. 
Sandburg had been through enough.  He would have really liked to
keep the kid out of the rest of this mess.  However, he bowed to
Robin's expertise, whatever expertise that was, and kept silent. 
The wire was silent as well and that bothered him.  It was too
silent, not even rustling of clothing could be heard.  He cocked
his head to the side and listened more intently.  He was right. 
There was no sound at all.

Blair looked at him strangely.  "What is it, Simon?"

"I don't think that wire is working anymore."

"It's not.  Just like Jim's hearing in the loft.  He should have
heard her and he didn't.  Somehow, she blocked his hearing and I
think she killed the wire."  Blair seemed extraordinarily calm. 

"How do we know when to go in?  Dammit!"

"We'll know," Robin said calmly.

"This is just too damn spooky for me!  Damn it, I want simple
crime.  Not this supernatural crap,"  Simon grumbled.

Another indulgent smile from Robin resulted.  Simon turned away
from the woman and called for the back up to move in and take up
position.  

____________________________________________________

"Did you think I wouldn't know?  Did you think I was stupid?  I
knew the moment that little witch blocked my control over you.  I
knew the moment she blocked me from your little pet too." Jim lay
on a what he could only describe as an altar, apparently in the
basement.  He was wearing only his boxers.  She strapped him down
and vaguely he remembered that the others had not shown any signs
of being tied down.  She was still talking.  "I should have known
that she would eventually become a problem.  As long as she was
finding them after they were dead and couldn't see my face, I
left her alone.  Yes, I knew she was there, if you are wondering. 
I knew that little bastard would be trouble though.  There's
something different about him.  I can't put my finger on it but
it's there."

"So you poisoned him?"  His words were slurred and even he had a
hard time making out what he had said.

But she understood him anyway.  "No, dear, you did.  I'm
surprised that you don't remember it.  You remember everything
else, I assume.  Yes?"

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not.  Okay, I'll give.  It was hypnosis.  Not part of
the spell at all.  Did you realize that you are very susceptible
to hypnosis?  It was really amazing.  Anyway, I planted a post
hypnotic suggestion in your head that told you to put the arsenic
that I gave you into your little dog's teas and things.  They
were quite detailed instructions and you followed them to the
letter.  Even remembering to wear gloves and return the pouch
with the remaining poison to me here.  Tell me, Jim, do you
remember being here?  You don't, do you?  So you see, I didn't
poison your pet.  You did."

"You bitch."

"Stick and stones, Jim, stick and stones.  Now, do you want to
know how you are going to die?  It really is for a good cause,
Jim.  I promise.  You see, I was born to be a mother but I made a
serious mistake.  I got pregnant at sixteen and in a blind panic
decided to have an abortion.  That butcher ruined me but I found
a way.  It will work.  It has to work.  The thing is I haven't
found the right man yet.  Maybe you'll be the one, Jim.  See, I
told you it was a good cause."

"You're insane."

"Well, I'd be insulted if your opinion mattered but as you will
be dead shortly, I'll just let that slide.  I went to the trouble
of hypnotizing the others so that they would lie still and not
have a memory of my face but I don't think I'll bother with that
this time.  The herbs I gave you have you too dizzy to do much
and the little witch already knows who I am now so no need to
hide my face.  Oh, the herbs!  They were in the kiss, Jim. 
Cliched, I know, the kiss of death, but effective just the same."

"You won't get away with this."

"Are you referencing your friends that followed us from the
restaurant?  Your captain, the witch, her uncle, and your pet? 
They won't find you until I throw your body out with the rest of
the trash.  They are right outside, true.  But I told you I think
of everything."  She picked up a roll of electrical tape from a
shelf on the wall and cut off a piece using an ornate knife. 
Putting the knife between her teeth then, she placed the tape
over his mouth.  "No more talking for you," she sang.  "It's not
necessary for what I have planned."

_________________________________________________

Blair felt nauseated and he leaned on Robin for support.  "I
don't think I can do this.  Please, I need to pull back."

She nodded.  "For a few minutes."

Blair took a deep breath and sighed.  He stumbled backward a
little but Robin helped him to lean on the hood of Simon's car. 
Simon was there in an instant.

"He's not having a relapse, is he?  Should I call an ambulance?"
Simon asked Robin.

"I'm okay, Simon.  Robin's been helping me establish a link to
Jim and it just got to be too much."

"I did not want to know that, Sandburg."

"Sorry, sir."  Blair leaned forward and put his head in his
hands.  He stood and shook himself.  "I don't need an ambulance
but you'd better have one on stand-by for Jim."

"That's done already, Blair," the big man assured him.

"Poor Jim."  Blair stared at the house that his best friend had
been dragged into by a woman he had dubbed Medusa.  

Robin brushed a windblown curl from his eyes.  "You're here for
him.  He knows that and it will help."

"Will it?" Blair mused, more to himself than to the others around
him.

______________________________________________________

Robin knew that Detective Ellison had not been given an
opportunity to use the word she had given him to break her spell. 
Even as she comforted Blair, she debated with herself whether she
should break it herself.  Blair's withdrawal from the link they
had established could only mean one thing.  Whispered words broke
the spell.  The link would be harder for Blair but the experience
would be easier on Jim.  A trade-off she didn't think Blair would
mind making.  She waited then, standing close to Blair, offering
the comfort of companionable silence and a warm touch.  She let
him decide when he was ready to reestablish the link.  Minutes
later, he stood straight and took a few steps toward the house.  

"Ready?"

He nodded and reached out for her hand.  She took it and boosted
the natural, instinctual power within him to a workable level
with the power she held.  Moments passed before he said anything. 

"Simon!  It's time to move,"  he said shortly, and immediately
began jogging to the house.  Robin followed closely.  She heard
Banks protest and expel a curse while her uncle Ian caught up
with them.  

Once at the front door, Robin reached out and touched Blair's
arm.  "Remember what I told you.  This is your battle.  You know
what you have to do."

"I have no idea what I'm doing, Robin.  But she's not going to
kill Jim."  Blair reached for the door knob and was surprised to
find it unlocked.  They entered the house and found nothing. 
"They've got to be here." 

"They are here.  Only hidden.  Find Jim, Blair."  

The man reached for her hand but she pulled it away.  "No, you
can do on your own.  I have to focus now on protecting you. Do
it."

He frowned with concentration and began moving through the house
again.  He went to the master bedroom and walked to the closet. 
"There."  He opened the door and pushed all the clothes aside to
reveal a door.  He looked back at Robin.  She smiled.  He was
learning.

_____________________________________________________

Blair steeled himself and opened the hidden door.  He knew that
Robin and Ian were behind him.  He could also hear Simon and the
back up moving into the house.  "Stairs, watch your step," he
whispered.

At the bottom of the steps was another door but this one was
locked.  Ian Prescott nodded at him as the older man physically
moved his niece out of the way.  He counted softly to three and
he and Blair hit the door with all their might.  Blair fell into
the room and rolled to his feet.  Ian was slower to recover and
Robin rushed in to help him up.  Blair saw the movement out of
the corner of his eye as he stood staring at the scene before
him.  For a second, he found that he could not breathe.  Jim was
strapped to a makeshift altar stained with blood.  Sybil stood
over him, a knife already red with Jim's blood in her hand.  She
screamed in outrage and ran at the nearest intruder.  Ian
Prescott shoved his niece out of the woman's path.  Another
scream, this time from Robin, broke through Blair's zone out on
his sentinel and he turned to see Sybil pull her knife out of Ian
Prescott's chest.  

"You little dog!" she screeched at Blair.  "I should have just
killed you myself when I first laid eyes on you!"

Blair saw Robin duck down and begin pulling her uncle to her.  "I
won't let you kill him."

"You can't stop me, you little twit."

"Then why are you afraid of me?"

"Afraid of you?"  She laughed but the sound was not convincing.  

Blair closed his eyes against the sight of Robin holding her
obviously dead uncle.  He tried to close his ears to the sound of
her sobs as well but it did not work.  "Blair, you know what you
have to do."

"Shut up, little witch!  When he's dead, you're next!"

"Sandburg!  Where the hell are you?!"  Simon's voice boomed from
upstairs.  

"Down here, Simon!"

"He can't hear you," she sang.  "Can't see the door either.  You
weren't supposed to see it," she snapped.

"Damn it," Blair whispered.

"You're helpless.  I know what will be fun.  You stand right
there like the worthless little lap dog you are while I finish my
sacrifice.  You can watch him die just like your little witch
watched her uncle die."  Sybil moved back over to Jim who had not
moved since Blair had entered the room.  Blair could see the
blood that flowed from his slashed left wrist into a bowl on the
floor by the altar. 

"What do I do?" Blair asked Robin frantically.  His voice shook
and he fought hard to maintain control of his fear.

"You know what to do, Blair.  I can't protect you from her spell
and fight her at the same time.  You have to do it."

"Oh, god."  Blair whispered, finally coming to the realization of
what Robin expected him to do.  What he had to do.  His only
weapon was to use the woman's power against her.

"Your god has no place here, pest."  Sybil lifted Jim's right
wrist.

Blair closed his eyes and sent out his consciousness, much like
Robin taught him to do to link with Jim.  Only this time, he did
not link with Jim but with the energy that surrounded him.  For a
split second, he could feel Robin's shield of protection.  He
moved beyond it and felt the evil outside of it, trying to get
in.  Through force of will, he gathered it and opened his eyes. 
He focused on the monster that held his best friend's life in her
hands and flung that evil at her.  She screamed.  The sound was
painful to Blair's ears.  

Robin's calm voice cut through the sound.  "Whatsoever you send
out will be returned upon you times three.  You should have known
better."

Blair watched in horror as the woman before him seemed to go pale
and weak before his eyes.  He saw her lift the knife in her hand,
not to Jim, but to her own heart.  "No!" he screamed and lunged
at her, only to realize that he was already too late.  She was
dead before she hit the floor.  "What have I done?"

"What you had to do."  Robin's voice was flat, without emotion. 
He turned to face her.

"Oh, Robin, I'm so sorry."  He reached out his hand to her and
she took it for a moment then released it.

"Go to Jim.  He's been drugged but now that she's gone, her
spells are gone.  He needs you.  I'll attend to Ian."

"Sandburg!" 

"Down here, Simon!  We need the paramedics."  Blair moved swiftly
to Jim and tore away a piece of the flannel shirt he was wearing
and tied it around Jim's wrist.  He held it there, applying
pressure to slow the bleeding.

Simon Banks appeared in the doorway.  "Damn!" the man swore. 
"Get those medics down here!" he yelled up the steps.

_____________________________________________________

Jim opened his eyes and forced them to focus.  What he saw was a
tile ceiling.  *Hospital,* his mind registered.

"Jim?" a soft, familiar voice called to him.

He turned his head to find his guide next his bed.  "Hey, Chief. 
Blair," he stated firmly as if trying the name out to see if it
sounded good.  

"Simon told you."

"Yeah.  I'm really sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not.  You still won't look me in the eye for very long,
Blair."

"Well, we'll work it out."

"Yeah, we will.  What about Sybil?"

Blair jumped and grimaced at the name. "She's dead, Jim."

"Then why that reaction?"

"I killed her."

"What?"

"I didn't mean to and I tried to stop it but I wasn't fast
enough."

"That makes no sense, Blair."  Jim knew instantly that his words
came out too harshly because he saw the flinch.  "It's okay,
buddy, you can explain it better for me later.  Where's Robin and
her uncle?"

"Ian's dead.  Robin's outside with Simon."

"Damn!  I want her to be alive so that I can kill her."

"You don't mean that, Jim.  You had some feelings for her, didn't
you?"

"Yeah, I guess I did, Blair, but you don't know everything.  She
found the wire and she did something to it.  She told me some
things and--" he paused.  "Look buddy, do you think you could
send Simon in here?"

"Sure."  Blair turned to leave.

"Hey, Chief?"

"Yeah?"

"No matter what, I want you to know that you're important to me,
okay?"

"Thanks, Jim.  You're important to me too.  We'll work it out."

The young man left then.  "Just wait until you find out I
poisoned you, Blair.  Can we work that out?"  He remembered it
all.  Simon entered the room and he did not give his captain a
chance to say hello.  "Read me my rights, Simon.  I'm turning
myself in."

"What?  What the hell for, Jim?"

"For the attempted murder of Blair Sandburg."

________________________________________________________

I know!  I'm an awful person!  Now, for a little information.  I
am not Wiccan but I have always been interested in ancient
religions, both those alive and well and the dead ones too. I
have a healthy respect for other's beliefs.  I did some research
and found out about the candles, herbs, and stones.  Also, each
Wicca practitioner has his/her own personal spells so there was
nothing I could use and I am not about to make stuff up.  Also,
let's get this clear.  Robin and Ian were Wiccan.  Sybil was NOT
a Wiccan.  A true Wiccan would NEVER violate the Wiccan Rede