TITLE: The Sentinel School

AUTHOR: Lady Ra

E-MAIL ADDRESS: Ladyra11@yahoo.com

RATING: R

PAIRING: J/B, J/D

SUMMARY: Sequel to A Gathering of Sentinels. A series of vignettes about the Sentinel school. Ha ha ha--vignette? Who am I kidding? This is yet another story that wouldn't STOP. ACK. This, just like A Gathering of Sentinels is an AU following S2P2.

EPISODE SPOILERS: None, nada, zip.

NOTES/WARNINGS: Mystical guide/sentinel stuff and lots of spirit animal frolicking. If you hate that kind of thing, run away. You probably need to read A Gathering of Sentinels for this to make any sense. Oh, and this is now an official crossover with Stargate.

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.

DISTRIBUTION: Prospect 852, and my home site at: www.visionsofprettyboys.com. Not sure if I'll post on any Stargate sites. It might be too confusing.

FEEDBACK: Absolutely. In fact I insist on it. No, I'm begging you for it. Really, self-confessed feedback slut.

THANKS: To all my fab betas: Morr, Jenn, Joolz, Susan, and Hawthorne.

A special thanks to Lela who paid big bucks for this story as part of the Moonridge Auction which supports the Moonridge Zoo, Garett Maggert's chosen charity. Go check out their site: http://www.moonridgezoo.org/map/zoohistory.html

The Sentinel School

1. Leaving Cascade

They met Joel for breakfast. The four of them sat in a booth with Joel next to Blair and Simon and Jim sitting across from them. They had decided to tell him first, and tell him alone, so they could answer all his questions and give him time to get used to the idea before springing it on the rest of Major Crimes.

"What?" Joel said, his eyes wide, voice almost panicked. "All three of you? Leaving? You can't."

Simon poured them all some coffee out of the carafe that had been left by the waitress. When that was done, he said, "We have to, Joel. This school is too important. All those Sentinels deserve a chance at a better life."

Joel's eyes skittered to Jim and his lips formed a tight but kind smile. "I know that. I can see that. But, all three of you? Major Crimes won't be the same."

Blair watched Joel with loving eyes. Change was never easy, especially when it took people you loved away. "You can come visit us, Joel. We'll just be in Oregon. Not Pluto."

"Visit you?" Joel asked in bewilderment, as if trying to understand what it meant. Then, almost gasping, he said, "Let me come with you."

Smiling, Blair put his hand on Joel's shoulder, grounding him. "Joel, you need to stay here. You need to take over. This place won't survive without your leadership. Right, Simon?"

"Right," Simon agreed. "I'll be recommending you to take over my position."

"But I can't do it without you," Joel protested, looking at the three of them. "I thought when it happened that it would be because you got promoted, so I'd be reporting to you," he added, staring at Simon. "And that Blair and Jim would be working for me. It just won't be right without you here."

Blair sat back, considering Joel.

"Let me come with you," the black man asked again. "I can help. My wife can help. Angie's a nurse." His eyes flitted between Simon, Blair and Jim.

Closing his eyes, Blair reached for the tapestry that was being woven inside his mind's eye. It had started after he and Jim had bonded. A collection of threads seen through his inner eye, his and Jim's threads providing the warp and weft. Simon's thread now wove its way through the picture, as did all the people they'd met up in Oregon. Nathan had been the newest addition, a deep yellow running alongside Hector's deep red.

The two of them hadn't bonded yet, to Blair's surprise. Their threads were firmly woven together, but lately they had grown quiescent, as if waiting for something or maybe just waiting for the right time.

Blair could feel Jim's attention, could hear the silence, knew they were all looking at him, but he continued his explorations, trying to see where Joel fit. There. He opened his eyes. As he suspected, all three of them were waiting for him. "Joel."

"Yeah, Blair," Joel said anxiously, as if he knew Blair's words would be directing his life.

"Do you want to help us?"

"I do. You know I do."

"Then I need you to stay here." At the unhappiness on Joel's face, Blair put up a hand. "For a year. Then, if you still want to, you can join us. I'd love for you to join us."

"Why a year, Chief?" Jim asked.

"The bond between a Sentinel and his or her Guide, our bond, you feel how right it is?" Blair asked Jim.

Jim smiled softly at him. "You know I do."

Blair glanced at Simon to see him nodding. Simon hadn't experienced a bond for himself, but he had been present for all the bondings so far. Anyone in the vicinity was affected by them and the rightness of them. "It's like they fix a little part of the world," Simon said.

Beaming at the captain, Blair nodded. "That's a perfect way to put it. It is a fixing, a healing. And because of that, everything we do needs to reflect that same energy. Every step we take needs to be about healing." He focused on Joel. "If you leave with us, Major Crimes won't be able to heal. You have a wonderful presence, Joel, and it will help mend the hole our absence will cause. You'll reassure everyone, and hire good people to take our place. You'll forge a strong team, and be able to pick a reliable replacement for yourself when it's time for you to come join us, if you still want to."

Joel was concentrating so hard on Blair, it made him want to hug the older man. Joel was a good man, one of the best. "There'll be a place for you, Joel," Blair reassured him. "Never worry about that. All our lives are so much richer for knowing you."

Shifting with some discomfort at the praise, Joel smiled sheepishly. "I guess I ought to speak with Angie about this, anyway, before I just start packing our bags."

Simon snorted, and Jim grinned. "That might be a good idea," Jim said.

"So, you're all right?" Blair probed. "You can do this?"

Joel nodded. "I can do this." He shrugged. "That's assuming they give me the job. They might not."

"They will," Simon said sternly.

"And even if they don't," Blair said with conviction, "just your presence alone will help. The people in Major Crimes think a lot of you. They'll look to you to set the tone."

Joel sighed. "Maybe. But it sure won't be the same place without you." He glanced at the three of them in turn. "When are you leaving?"

"In a month," Simon said. "Jim and Blair have already given their official notice to me. I have an appointment with the commissioner early this afternoon to do the same. It's why I scheduled a staff meeting at 4:00 pm so I could make the announcement. I want everyone to hear it from me. And I'll be announcing that until you're given the job officially, you'll be acting as interim captain."

"You'll be great at it," Blair said enthusiastically to Joel. "And we'll all just be a phone call away if you need a pep talk." He glanced at his watch. "I have to go. I have an appointment with my dissertation committee. I need to fill them in on all the new developments."

He stood, followed by Jim, who stated, "I'm going to the station. Got some cases to start clearing up." He took a quick look at the bill and threw too much money down on the table. "We'll see you both later." With a hand at the small of Blair's back, they both left the restaurant.

*****

Simon and Joel's eyes followed them out, and then they glanced at each other. Joel tore off a small piece of biscuit, dragged it through the gravy and popped it in his mouth. "Sentinel, huh?"

Simon nodded. "Sentinel."

"And Blair's his Guide?"

Simon nodded again. "And more." He could feel the power in Blair all the time, now. It was growing. To Simon's eyes he glowed.

"I knew he was special."

"Jim?" Simon confirmed. That was where everyone's attention always ended up. Blair had gotten very good at staying in the background, except, Simon thought with a grin, when he was being an annoying nuisance in the foreground.

"Well, yeah, Jim, of course, but I meant Blair."

Simon's eyebrows went up.

"I can't explain it," Joel said, clearly planning the attempt anyway. "But, from the moment I met him, I knew he was something special. He just, he just cares, you know? And it's sad that we live in a world where someone like that stands out so much, but he does. He really cares. People matter to him."

"They matter to us, too," Simon growled. "It's not like we became cops for the money." He knew what Joel was talking about and agreed, but it didn't make the rest of them chump change.

"I know that, Simon. And you care more than most. It's why it's been an honor to work with you." He shrugged. "I can't explain it. He's just special."

Simon put him out of his misery. "I know what you mean. He is special. It's like he…" Now Simon couldn't find the words.

Joel tried again. "He's like the difference between Angie's spaghetti sauce and my mom's. Not that Angie doesn't make a fine spaghetti sauce because she does, but there's something my mom puts in hers that just makes it taste that little bit better. That's what Blair's like. He just makes life that little bit better." He waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss his foolishness. "They won't like it."

"Who?"

"Major Crimes. They won't like any of you leaving."

Simon nodded. "I know. That's why we need you. To watch our backs. To make sure it stays clean. I know how rumors can start, how they can rewrite history and taint friendships. I'd like to think this is a place all three of us would be welcome to call on if we needed help. It will be if you're here."

"I'll do my best, Simon. You know that."

"I do know that. It's why you're the man for the job." Simon checked the bill, noticed that Jim had left enough to cover the entire tab. He added a large tip. "You ready to go in to work?"

Joel worked his way out of the booth, his hefty girth making it a struggle. "Damn, guess if I have to start running the show, I better lose some weight. Need to be a little lighter on my feet."

"Just tell Angie that her spaghetti sauce doesn't measure up to your mom's, and I'm sure she'll be glad to starve you."

Joel shivered. "Don't even say that."

Simon laughed, clapped Joel on the shoulder, and the two men left the restaurant.

*****

Jim was setting the table when Blair got home. He waited impatiently while Blair threw his keys in the key basket, hung up his coat, and flung his backpack by the couch. Finally, Blair moved to him, reaching up for a kiss.

Jim loved this. Loved that he had someone to come home to, someone to come home to him. Someone who kissed him, who he could kiss. And he especially loved that it was Blair.

It had never been like this with Carolyn. Jim hadn't even known he could love like this, with every fiber of his being. He wasn't sure many people had the opportunity to love like this. If they could, the world would be a better place.

Rolling his eyes at his inner mushiness, he squeezed his partner hard, getting a pleased grunt out of him. "How did it go?"

Blair laughed. "Man, you should have seen them. I've been working on this diss for how long now? But when I told them I had several Sentinels now to write about, it was like they couldn't believe there really were Sentinels." He frowned. "Nice to know they totally didn't believe anything I was writing. Sheesh." But then he grinned. "Hector blew them away."

"I'm sure he did," Jim said with a grin of his own. "How did Latisha do?"

"She totally wowed them," Blair said with pride.

"Did they sign the confidentiality agreements?"

Blair nodded as he checked out what was cooking on the stove. "Yup. Not that it will really work, but it might help a little. People in academia aren't made to keep quiet about cool stuff. It's kind of their job to spread it around."

"Yeah, I know," Jim said, batting Blair's hand away from picking out a meatball from the sauce. "But maybe it will give us some time. I'm hoping we'll get to be the ones to spread the word. I'd like to get to the main agencies before they get to us." Then, relenting, he plucked a meatball out and split it with Blair, letting him have a bite first, and then enjoying the other half spiced with Blair-taste. "Did they agree to your timetable?"

With another nod, Blair took over setting the table. "Yeah, they're gonna do a rush job for me, but that means I need to have it written in two weeks, so that means you won't see me at the station. But, assuming I get it done, they said they'd read it and let me defend within two weeks after that, which is almost unheard of." He shrugged. "We'll see if it happens."

"It'll happen," Jim promised him. And Jim was sure it would. Things were rolling. Destiny was on the march, and a lowly dissertation committee could hardly stand up to that. "Then you'll be able to graduate, and we'll be out of here."

Blair shook his head, eyes wide. "I still can't believe it. I was thinking I was gonna be an ABD for the rest of my life."

"Doctor Blair Sandburg," Jim said proudly.

Blair moved into his arms again and kissed him soundly. "I like the sound of that, but it hasn't happened yet."

"It will."

With a loving smile, Blair got out a couple bottles of water. "Water okay?"

Jim nodded. "So how is Hector?"

"He's fine."

Jim shot his partner a look.

"No, he really is," Blair assured him.

"He's not freaking that Nathan hasn't chosen him yet?"

Blair opened up his water and took a swig, then leaned against the counter. "I'm sure he'll be very glad when he does, but Hector believes it will happen, and he's willing to give Nathan the time he needs." He laughed. "It's been a lot for Nathan to take in. I think it's great Hector's being so supportive."

"Me, too, Chief, but I'm thinking the main reason Nathan's hesitating is because Hector's bisexual, and Nathan's, well, let's just say he's undecided."

"And Hector's told him that doesn't matter," Blair insisted. "All Hector wants is his own Guide, his own lifemate. Maybe in a perfect world his Guide would be his lover, but in this world, he just wants a Guide. They'll figure the rest of it out. They're both great guys; they'll make it work."

Jim grabbed Blair and pulled him toward him, turning him, so Blair's back was against his chest. He nibbled on his neck, growling, "In Hector's perfect world, he'd have you as his Guide, but he can't have you." His hand swept down Blair's body, ending up cupping Blair's genitals with a proprietary squeeze.

Blair patted Jim's arms. "I thought you were over this whole beating your chest Tarzan thing." He turned around, staring up at Jim. "You're not really angsting about that, are you?"

Jim shook his head. "No, but I can't help thinking about how close I came to losing you. It gives me nightmares."

Blair held him tightly. "I'm all yours, Jim. You and me, pal."

Jim dropped his nose into Blair's hair, inhaling deeply. Eau d'Blair. His favorite smell. Favorite taste, favorite everything. "Hungry?"

"Starved. Is it ready? It smells ready." He grabbed two plates, waiting impatiently for food to be dished out.

"It's ready." Jim forked out spaghetti onto plates then ladled sauce and meatballs on top. Blair carefully carried the loaded plates to the table. Donning mitts, Jim got out the garlic bread heating in the oven and put it on a platter.

"Yum," Blair said happily, putting some salad into salad bowls. "This looks great." He poured some blue cheese dressing on his, noshing on a crouton. "A feast fit for kings." His brow furrowed. "Which reminds me, we need to find a cook."

"For the school?" Jim asked, pouring ranch dressing on his salad.

"Yeah. We need someone who understands Sentinels and who can cook for them."

"There was already a cook there, wasn't there?" Jim asked. "I mean, someone was feeding them meals."

Blair made a face. "There was, but Hector and Latisha said the meals were pretty inedible. Badly spiced and tasting of metal. We'll need a cook and pots and pans like you have here, so the taste of it doesn't get in the food."

"We need a lot more than that," Jim counseled.

Blair tore off a piece of garlic bread. "Like what?"

"We need to rebuild that school from the bottom up, Chief. We need construction people, a foreman, carpenters, engineers, plumbers, electricians. We need more teachers and medical people. We need security, and gardeners and housekeepers. We need everything. And everyone we hire needs to understand about Sentinels."

Whistling, Blair grimaced. "Oy." Then he grinned. "Glad Simon's in charge of all of that."

Jim frowned at him.

Blair laughed. "I know. I know. We'll be in charge, too. And I get that we can't just go hire a cleaning service. It's not like running a dirty mop over a floor is gonna do it for you."

"And the building has to be largely soundproofed. Otherwise there'll be nothing even remotely resembling privacy."

That got a wince out of Blair. "No kidding." He chewed for a minute. "Hey, where are we going to live? At the school or in town?"

Jim thought about it for a minute while he twirled spaghetti onto his fork. "I think we need to be nearby. Maybe we can have a few private homes built on the property, assuming we can do that with the zoning codes. Maybe we can call them staff residences. Anyway, that way we can have some privacy, but only be a minute away if something happens."

With a nod, Blair chomped down on a meatball. "'kay," he said through a mouthful of food. He swallowed it down. "Hey, what happened today at the staff meeting? I completely forgot about it."

"The news went over like lead socks on a channel swim."

"Not too surprising," Blair said. "But you got out of there in one piece, right?" He gave Jim a once-over. "Do I need to do a thorough examination for bruising?" he asked with a leer.

Jim grinned. "Yeah, I think you better. Head to toe."

"Back to front?"

"And back again," Jim said.

Blair grinned back. "You're on. But really, how did it go?"

"No one was happy about it, but there really wasn't much they could do. Megan, H and Rafe want to join us, just like Joel. I gave them the 'give it a year' spiel."

"That's cool they all want to help." He tore off another slice of bread. "I take it no one was unduly surprised to hear that you were a Sentinel?"

Jim snorted. "They didn't even pretend they didn't know. They might not have known the right word for it, but they all knew I wasn't exactly normal."

With a grin, Blair said, "Well, they are cops. And good ones, at that."

"They could have at least looked surprised," Jim said grumpily. All that pretending, for years.

Laughing, Blair turned back to his dinner. "How did Simon's thing go? Did the commissioner flip?"

"Big time. But there wasn't much he could do either. He can't keep Simon from quitting. And hearing that we were leaving didn't help."

"Did Simon tell him why?"

Jim shook his head. "No. Simon decided to leave that one alone."

"Probably a good call," Blair said. He stood. "Want some more?"

Jim stared at Blair's plate. "Jeez, Chief, did you inhale that?"

"I was hungry," Blair protested, moving to the stove. He made up a new plate. "Besides, I love your spaghetti." He stopped on the way back to give Jim a kiss before returning to his seat.

Jim helped himself to some more as well, and they chatted about inconsequential things while they finished up. Once they were both done, he piled Blair's plate on top of his own. "I'll clean up," he offered.

"Thanks," Blair said happily. "I'll go get my grading done." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Then it's time for that examination."

Jim grew warm at the thought. He carried the dishes to the sink. "Get going then. And don't start working on your dissertation tonight or you'll never surface. Starting tomorrow you can dive in, but I want your undivided attention tonight."

"Fair enough," Blair said, giving Jim one last kiss. His hand made his way down Jim's back and he gave his ass a squeeze. Blair made a hmm-hmm-good sound, and then headed off to his room cum office.

As Jim cleared off the rest of the table, he couldn't stop grinning.

*****

When they got to the S's, Jim could feel the tension mount. Unbelievable. After all these years, all the trials and tribulations, Blair was finally getting his Ph.D.

Jim was so proud he thought he might burst with it, and he wasn't the only one.

All of Major Crimes was here, leaving only a skeleton crew of mostly new cops to hold down the fort. Then there were all of Blair's friends and students from the university.

The Sentinels and Guides were here as well. Hector and Nathan, on the edge of their seats, were waiting for Blair to cross the stage. Amelia and her sister Andrea were bouncing in their seats; Jason and Latisha were grinning madly.

Marilyn, Jason's ambulance partner had come with them, along with her husband Tom, who was a salt-of-the-earth handyman, a fact that had Blair grinning. Apparently, Marilyn wanted to help at the school, and Tom, after meeting a couple Sentinels for himself, had been an easy sell. Jim suspected Tom would go anywhere Marilyn went, happily trusting her to forge the path they'd walk on together.

Even Amos Taray had come up from Hillsboro Hills with his wife, Patrice. Amos and Simon had been chatting about everything from taxes to construction zoning, and Jim privately agreed with Blair that it was a good thing all of that was Simon's problem.

Then there were all the uninvited guests, perched here and there, in all their glory. The panther, the wolf, the stag and boa, the owl and eagle, Amelia's fox and Andrea's raccoon, a natural buffoon forcing all the people who could see him to bite their lips tightly to keep from laughing.

The only person who hadn't made it was Naomi, but she had called and sent a gift, and waxed poetic about Blair at such length that Blair had blushed. It almost made Jim forgive her for not being here.

"Mary Salzman," the moderator called out.

Jim's heart skipped a beat. Blair was next.

His name was announced, "Blair Sandburg." Jim was on his feet, whistling, all of Blair's students were woo-wooing, Major Crimes was half cheering, half heckling, the animals were growling and howling and yipping and, despite the pandemonium, it was all music to Jim's ears, because Blair deserved every bit of it. Every fucking bit of it.

*****

Most everything was already on its way in the moving van; Blair and Jim only had a suitcase and a couple cartons of necessities down in the car in case the van was delayed.

Jim locked the door to the loft and turned to Blair.

Blair was staring at the door. "Man, this is weird. This is like the only home I've ever had, and it's hard to leave." He sniffed then cleared his throat, flashing Jim an embarrassed look.

Jim pulled him into his arms and held him tightly, only knowing that the only home he'd ever need again was the one he was holding right now.

After a minute, Blair pulled back. "Okay. I'm better. Thanks, man."

Patting Blair on the cheek, Jim checked his watch. "We better go if we want to miss rush hour traffic. We still need to drop off these keys."

With another long look at the door, Blair nodded and then headed down the stairs, Jim right behind him.

*****

2. Getting settled in Hillsboro Hills

"Dr. Sandburg, Dr. Sandburg!"

Blair grinned up at Jim. "Is it wrong of me that I'm still getting such a kick out of hearing that?"

Jim grinned back. "No. Not unless it's wrong that I'm still getting such a kick out of it."

They both turned as Tom, Marilyn's husband moved within talking range.

"I wish you'd call me Blair," Blair said.

Tom waved his invitation off. "You earned that title, and you deserve to be called by it." Tom had definite opinions about things like that. Marilyn had told Blair that he had never, even when they became friends with the physicians Marilyn worked with, called the doctors by their first name. He was old-fashioned that way, Marilyn had said with a smile and happy eyes; the additional thought that she loved him that way was unsaid but clearly understood.

It had an interesting effect, though, Blair thought. It made him want to keep earning that title. And he bet those doctors were better practitioners because of Tom. His words just made you stand a little taller, put a little starch in your spine.

"What's the emergency?" Jim finally asked.

"Here," Tom answered, giving Jim and Blair a piece of paper. "I just want to make sure I've got the scope of the job right before I start looking around."

Blair's eyebrows rose as he read. "Wow. I guess I hadn't really realized how much stuff there is to do. Can you find someone who can handle all of this?"

Tom waved off his concern. "We'll find someone."

The first of a thousand jobs they needed to do was find someone who could rebuild the school to make it fit for Sentinels. They had discarded the old tried and true method of simply contacting local contractors and seeing what they could come up with. They needed to find an architect and a contractor who would take this on as a mission.

Jim took the list when Blair was finished and perused it. "This looks about right, Tom. I'm sure we'll think of things we've forgotten, but this will get us started."

"Hopefully, whoever you find won't mind coming here for a while," Blair said.

"They won't if I pay them enough," Jim stated sensibly. "They need to be here to oversee construction so they can help us with problems as they come up."

Blair's lips were pursed now as he thought about it. "Actually, whoever gets the job could spend the rest of their life working for Sentinels. They'll all want their own homes eventually. Can you imagine how much easier it would have been for you if you could have had a home built with your senses in mind?"

That's what I had you for, Chief," Jim said affectionately. "But I see your point."

"So you're comfortable with me putting some feelers out?" Tom asked, just to be sure.

"Absolutely," Blair said. He beamed at Tom. "And once they're on board, we'll really be on our way."

*****

Nathan started the talk off that evening. "I've been putting together a curriculum, but we're going to need other teachers. The way I see it, we'll need four separate educational tiers. The first is the normal stuff: math, sciences, reading, writing, literature, all the basics they'd learn at any school. We'll need to hire someone to teach those classes."

Simon drummed his fingers on the metal counter. "We need to make sure we use what local talent we can. The surest way to alienate everyone in this town is to only bring people in from outside. Amos has told me that there's already mumbling about the fact that we're not choosing any of the local architects or contractors to rebuild."

Blair leaned over his plate to take a bite of his dinner. It would be easier to eat in the cafeteria where there was table space for everyone, but almost every night they all gravitated here to what, Blair guessed, had been the staff lounge. It was near the kitchen so carrying food to it was easy enough and it was much smaller than the large institutional cafeteria. Blair liked the feeling of family the smaller room generated.

Blair glanced at Andrea. She'd transferred as a senior to the local high school when they'd arrived. It was only temporary as she would go to classes at the Sentinel School when it opened, along with her sister. But, in the meantime, she'd offered to be a set of eyes and ears around town, and Blair had decided that was a good idea.

"Anyone giving you a hard time?" Blair asked Andrea.

Andrea shook her head. "Not really. Mostly they're just curious."

Simon could believe that. The whole blasted town was curious. Keeping this thing quiet was going to be a nightmare. Not that they had to keep it quiet, but he'd just as soon not be dealing with sightseers when they weren't in a position to keep this place secure. "Can you use local teachers, Nathan?" Simon inquired hopefully.

"If they're qualified and willing. These won't be regular students," Nathan said with a lopsided smile, knowing he wasn't telling this crowd anything they didn't know.

"I'll talk to Amos, tell him we're looking for some teachers for the three R's," Simon said. "See what he can come up with." He gestured at Nathan. "That's one tier, what're the other three?" One he could easily guess, the others he wasn't sure about.

"Being a Sentinel or a Guide," Nathan added with a smile at Blair. "That's Hector and Blair's responsibility, although we'll need to find a second for Blair to handle things whenever Blair's out looking for more Sentinels."

Blair let out a sigh, turning to Hector. "I don't suppose you know a Guide/Sentinel pair from your home that might like to come here, do you? I barely know how to be a Guide let alone asking someone to take my place."

Jim frowned, but Hector smiled. "You know everything you need to know, Blair."

Blair shook his head. "No, I don't. You've taught me more about being a Guide in the few short weeks I've known you than working with Jim for three years did."

Jim's frown deepened, and he shook his head.

"You see?" Hector said as he pointed at Jim. "He knows. He knows you know what you need. All I've taught you is ritual. You kept Jim alive. You know it in here," Hector tapped his chest over his heart. "You know what a Sentinel needs."

Blair managed not to roll his eyes. He was glad to be thought so highly of, but facts were facts. "I appreciate the sentiment, guys, really, but if what you're saying is true, then it's even less likely I can teach it to someone. We need someone who's been operating as a Guide. Who knows it here," Blair tapped his chest over his heart, "but also understands it here," and Blair tapped his temple.

Hector considered him and then nodded. "I will give it some thought."

Blair smiled more happily this time. "Thanks."

There was no doubt that Blair had something, Simon mused. And he was pretty sure it wasn't teachable. It was something intrinsic to Blair and Blair alone. "What was the third tier?"

"That's where I come in," Nathan began. "I'm expecting that we will have some damaged kids. That's really my area of expertise. Kids who have been abused, put in institutions, thought to be autistic. Those will be the kids I work with."

"And they'll be lucky to have you," Blair said staunchly.

Nathan grinned at him. "The last issue these Sentinels will need to be taught, and maybe it's a part of what Blair and Hector teach them, but I think it might need to be a whole curriculum of its own," Nathan stopped to take a breath. "These Sentinels need to learn the ethics of being a Sentinel."

"What's that mean?" Latisha asked, her mouth full of Marilyn's chocolate chip cookies that, as usual, were the highlight of all the evening meals.

Blair gave her a noogie. "You know what that means."

Simon grinned. Of all the people there, Latisha would know exactly what that meant. She'd been using her senses to rob little old ladies.

Latisha rolled her eyes. "I know that. I just mean, how do you teach that?"

"Good question," Nathan said. "Add to that the kids who will be arriving with already compromised behavior. Kids whose senses have been driving them crazy so they've coped by lashing out, or," he added, with a kind grin at Latisha, "have already started using their senses to get in trouble."

Jim nodded. "The ethical issues are crucial. Eavesdropping, for example. Half the time you don't even realize you're hearing things you shouldn't until it's too late. And it's hard to unhear stuff, or act as if you don't know things you do."

"And the last thing we need," Simon added, "is to have a town full of people viewing us with suspicion. The kids are going to have to be taught a: not to use their senses in intrusive ways, and b: if they do find out things accidentally, how to lie about it."

Blair grimaced and let out a sigh. "Great. Teaching them about morals while we teach them to lie."

"I know it stinks, Blair," Jim said, putting his arm around Blair's shoulder, "but they'd be after us with flaming torches and pitchforks if they thought we knew everyone's secrets. Nathan's right. Ethics needs to be practically number one on this curriculum, and part of that is lying to protect others. We sort of need to think of ourselves as the town's safety deposit box. Stuff goes in, but nothing comes out without both sets of keys."

"I like that image," Blair said, smiling up at Jim. "Let's work on that. Let's couch this in a way that we're not teaching these Sentinels to lie, but rather to protect. It's simply an extension of what they were made for."

Jason intercepted a cookie out of Latisha's hands and bit into it, grinning teasingly at her outraged expression. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us." He gestured at Tom. "What comes first? Building the school, building the curriculum, or are you," this was directed at Blair, "and Jim going to go out and start bringing students in right away?"

Simon didn't miss the look exchanged between Jim and Blair. In a way it was unfair how much all of this hinged on them. But then, again, all of this was their damn fault in the first place, so it served them right. Simon bit back a grin at that thought.

Jim was the one who answered. "All of the above. Tom will be working on finding the perfect person or persons to rebuild the school, Nathan will keep pulling the curriculum together, and Blair and I will be out looking for enough unbonded Sentinels to get the moose calls going."

Blair smacked him on the arm.

Jim grinned at him. "And Simon--" he paused for a breath.

Simon looked up from where he was contemplating the last cookie, wondering if he could lunge for it before someone else got to it. Lots of people there were younger and fitter, but he was taller and had a longer reach. "Simon what?"

"Simon's going to be hiring the people we need to keep this place running. Plant ops guys, gardeners, custodial staff, cooks," he said with a grin at Marilyn. "You've been very kind to keep us all in cookies," Jim said to her, "but at some point, we'll need you in the infirmary."

She nodded, grinning back. "I can still bake cookies."

"Good," Latisha said, grabbing the last cookie.

Simon sighed as his cookie dreams went up in smoke. "I've got a meeting scheduled with Amos and the Mayor tomorrow."

Blair picked up the conversation. "We've only got four Sentinels here. Three, when Jim and I get on the road. All of us, or…" he stopped, glancing at Hector, "most of us are bonded, and Hector has told me that a bonded Sentinel doesn't put out a call to a Guide. We'll need to have at least five unbonded Sentinels here at all times, so their Guides will come."

Nathan glanced anxiously at Hector. "Are you still putting out a call?"

Hector shook his head, smiling kindly at Nathan. "No." Then his eyes widened in apprehension. "Should I be? Should I look elsewhere?"

Simon held his breath. He'd assumed the two of them had been talking about this, but maybe they hadn't.

"No, no," Nathan assured him hurriedly. "I want you to wait. I'm sorry I keep asking you to wait--."

"Then I will," Hector interrupted him with conviction. "I will wait as long as you need me to."

As if suddenly realizing they were having this conversation in a crowd of people, Nathan reddened. "Let's talk later," he said softly, touching Hector's arm.

Hector nodded, his broad face made beautiful by his smile.

Simon blew out his breath, glad Nathan hadn't told Hector to get lost. Not that Hector wouldn't have been gracious about it. Hector was always gracious, but Simon liked Hector and didn't want him to be hurt. Simon also knew, as did most of the people in the room, that Hector had wanted Blair to choose him, and if Hector hadn't helped Jim, Blair probably would have.

And then they all would have lost Jim. Thank God it hadn't come to that. "So," Simon said to Blair, "does that mean you're going Sentinel shopping?"

Blair rolled his eyes. "It means Jim and I will start going through all the files in Mr. Smith's office. We need to find a few Sentinels who aren't train wrecks, before we start on the ones that are."

"And we also need to get some security around here," Jim added. At the raised eyebrows around him, Jim held up his hand. "I know the Sentinels are their own kind of security, but we need people patrolling. And we also need to start talking to official agencies so when word gets out about the school…"

"Which it will," Simon assured him. And sooner than they wanted.

"Which it will," Jim agreed, "and when it does, we don't want anyone coming to try to help themselves to a Sentinel or two."

"So I'll be calling my friends Daniel Jackson and Jack Kelso and start with them, and we'll see where that takes us," Blair said.

The room grew quiet as everyone contemplated the days, weeks, months ahead, and all the work involved. Then Marilyn stood and reached behind the couch she was sitting on and picked up two plates of cookies she'd had tucked away. Simon grabbed a couple of them off one of the plates as it zoomed past him. As he ate half of one in a single bite he considered the people in the room around him. Good people. Hard working people with a mission. They could do this. Especially if Marilyn kept making cookies.

*****

3. The phone calls.

"This is Daniel Jackson. I'm returning a call to Blair Sandburg?"

Blair smiled. "You got him, Daniel. But it's Dr. Sandburg now."

Blair let out a laugh. "Finally."

There was a pleased laugh in return. "It's about time. How the heck are you? It's been too long since we last spoke."

"I know it. And I'm embarrassed that I'm calling you out of the blue for a favor."

"As long as it's legal, consider it done, and even if it's not, I've still got some leeway," Daniel said without a moment's hesitation.

"I miss you," Blair said, touched at the willingness of his friend to agree to a favor without even hearing what it was. "We need to do a better job keeping in touch." Daniel was one of the few friends Blair had lost to time that he truly regretted.

"I agree. We'll make a pact. But right now, tell me what you need. I'm due someplace in about fifteen minutes. I'm calling you in between meetings."

"I need to send you some information to read. Someplace secure."

Daniel laughed again. "It doesn't get more secure than where I am. Can you e-mail it?"

"Yes. Then after you read it, we need some help getting the information out to the right people. We don't want any of our people to be in any danger from any official, or unofficial, government agencies."

"Sounds serious."

"It is. It's also wonderful," Blair enthused. "I can't wait to talk to you about it."

"Then I can't wait to read it. You still at the same e-mail address?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send you an e-mail right now with my contact info. Send it on and I'll read it as soon as I can."

"Great," Blair said, grinning. "Just keep an open mind. Everything you're going to read is true."

A snicker came over the phone. "I've learned to keep a very open mind. As soon as I've read it, I'll give you a call." There was a pause. "It's good to hear your voice," Daniel said. "I'm glad I'll have a reason to talk to you again soon."

"Me, too."

Blair heard a voice call Daniel's name. "Gotta go, Dannyboy."

"Yeah, yeah, Jack, I'm coming." Then back to Blair. "I need to go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Great. Take care."

"You, too." Daniel disconnected.

Blair hung up a little slower and then found himself grabbed around the waist by his Sentinel. "Should I be jealous?" Jim growled.

"Not even a little bit," Blair said with a smile, turning in Jim's arms, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. "Daniel was, is, just a good friend. He's a truly good man. You'll like him."

"As long as he's not interested in being anything more than friends, I'll like him fine," Jim said with another growl, even though his smile took all the bite out of it.

"Even if he was, which he's not, I'm not interested. And I'm also not worried that you're at all jealous because you know what I'm feeling," Blair said smugly. "And you know I'm madly in love with you."

Jim's face was transformed by one of his brilliant grins, the one that made his eyes all crinkly and took Blair's breath away. He lifted up on his toes and gave Jim another kiss, this one a little longer. When Blair pulled away and got his breath back, he said, "Ready to make some more phone calls?"

Jim nodded, patting the stack of files he had. "First I'm calling Jack Kelso."

"Great." Blair patted his own stack. "I'll get started on these. Oh, and I need to send a copy of my dissertation to Daniel." He and Jim both had a stack of Mr. Smith's files from his cabinet, ten possible Sentinels each.

In a perfect world, they'd finish the school up first and then look for Sentinels, but Blair wanted to make sure there were Sentinels to get before they spent all this time and money building a school that would never be used. So he and Jim had chosen twenty out of the hundreds Mr. Smith had information on. They were making the phone calls near each other in case it made more sense for them to switch off. This way they'd both be there, Dr. Blair Sandburg, Guide and Sentinel expert, and Jim Ellison, Sentinel extraordinaire.

While Jim dialed Jack, Blair logged into his e-mail program, found the e-mail from Daniel, and mailed back his dissertation along with a quick explanation about the school.

*****

"Jack? It's Jim Ellison."

"Hello, Jim, how are you? I understand you and Blair are up in Oregon now."

"We are. In fact, if things go the way we hope they will, we might have a job for you. We'll need someone to be in charge of hooking our students up with the appropriate agencies."

"That all sounds very mysterious and intriguing," Jack teased. "Want to tell me what this is about?"

"Remember that safety deposit box key we gave you?"

"I do."

"It's time to use it."

"Are you in trouble?" Jack asked, concerned.

"No. And I know we told you it was there as insurance in case something happened to us. But some amazing things have occurred between then and now and it's time to go public, but very carefully. We'd like you to read the info in that box, and then see if you can help us choose the right people to contact. The last thing Blair put in there was his dissertation, so the information's current."

"I'll go get it tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jack. Obviously we don't want it to fall into the wrong hands right now, but if things play out the way we want there won't be any wrong hands. Or we'll be protected from the wrong hands."

"You've piqued my curiosity. Maybe I'll go get it right now."

Jim chuckled. "You won't believe it when you read it, but trust me, it's all true. As is the information in there about the school we plan to start."

"I'm definitely going to get it now," Jack stated. "I'm beyond intrigued. I'll call you as soon as I've read everything."

"Good," Jim said. "And Blair says hi." He smiled at his Guide who was finishing up his e-mail and waving.

"Say hello back. I better go if I want to get there before the bank closes."

"We'll talk to you soon."

"Okay, Jim."

Jim hung up and then opened his first folder.

*****

"Hello? I'm looking for one of the parents of Darrel Hess."

"This is his mother."

"Hi, Mrs. Hess. This is Dr. Blair Sandburg. I'm calling about your son."

"What about him?" she said, suspicion in her voice.

"I think I may know what's wrong with him. I work with a group of people who have heightened senses. To someone who didn't know what was going on, it might manifest itself as a psychotic break. I'm not sure your son is mentally ill."

There was a long pause. "All his other doctors say he's crazy."

"I understand. Some of the people I'm working with thought they were going crazy as well. I think he may simply have some extraordinary gifts that make him special, not crazy. I'd like to come see him if I could. I'll bring one of the people I was talking about, so you can meet him, ask him questions."

There was another pause. "I guess it couldn't hurt. He doesn't talk much to anyone any more. Not sure you'll get much out of him. I had to put him in a home." Her voice sounded beyond weary.

Blair winced. "Would you like to be with us when we see him?" The sooner the better. If Darrel was at all like Jim, a hospital environment would only make things worse.

"No. I know it sounds dreadful, but it's hard to see him like that," she said tearfully.

"It's not dreadful," Blair said consolingly. "I think it would be very hard to watch a child fade away. What I'll need you to do is call the home and let them know we're coming and tell them we have your permission to see him. And I'll need the name of the institution."

"It's the Southport Retreat House in Marshville, Connecticut."

"Great. Let me give you my name again, so you can let them know we're coming. Then I'll call them and set up an appointment time. Do you have a paper and pencil?" When he got an affirmative noise, Blair said, "It's Blair Sandburg."

He could hear her scribble his name down. "I'll call them right now," she said. "Otherwise I might forget."

"I appreciate it," Blair said. "I hope we can help."

"If you don't mind," she said sadly, "I think I'll assume you can't. It'll hurt less that way."

"I don't mind. I appreciate you being willing to let us meet with him."

"Do me a favor. If you can't help him, don't call me."

Blair smiled sadly. "I won't." He hoped very badly that he would be calling her, though, and with good news. "Thank you again."

"I better call. I forget things easily these days."

"Okay, thanks again." He finished his sentence to a dial tone. "Okay, then." He hung up as well. Blair considered the folder in front of him, and he glanced up at Jim. "That didn't go too badly. Although, it means a trip to Connecticut."

"Well, let's make all the calls and see where else we need to go. It might be easier in the long run to charter a plane."

Blair grinned. "What a good thing I found me a sugar daddy."

"Just remember your sugar daddy expects payments."

Blair wiggled his eyebrows. "Works for me."

Jim tapped his folders. "Phone calls now. Payments later."

Blair pouted. "Sure, suck all the fun out of my day."

"I'll let you suck all you want later."

With another grin, Blair reached for the next folder.

*****

"What the fuck do you people want?" she shrieked in Jim's ear. He grimaced in pain and pulled the phone away.

"Mrs. Gomez—"

"You people need to leave me the fuck alone."

"What people are you talking about, exactly?" Jim asked, a little confused.

"You know who you are," she snapped. "The little bastard's bigger than I am. If he doesn't wanna go to school, I can't make him. And I can't make him go see his parole officer, neither. I got six other kids to take care of. I can't be driving him everywhere and he's too fucking lazy to walk."

Jim sighed. "All we want to do is talk to him."

"He ain't never home. He's off with his friends, doing stuff. He's only here to sleep, and not even then, sometimes."

Jim decided to leave this one alone. The last thing they needed was to start the school off with troublemakers. They'd piss off this town faster than the speed of light and right now they needed all the support they could get. "Thank you for your time," he said shortly and hung up.

Blair glanced up at him. "No?"

"He's bad news, Blair." At the look on Blair's face, Jim held up a hand. "And I know there might be a reason he's bad news, but we need to be more established before we bring in kids who are undisciplined and who might cause problems for the town. We're not prepared for that. I think we need to focus on the kids who are sick, not the ones who are already in trouble with the law."

"If we looked at it that way, we wouldn't have Latisha."

"Latisha's different, Chief. Look at the difference between her and John. You got through to her. John was nothing but trouble."

"But maybe I could get through to this kid. Maybe he's not at John's stage yet, and we can make a difference."

Jim was going to lose this fight. He knew Blair wouldn't want to give up on a single possible Sentinel if he could help it. "We can go and try to see him, but his mom's not going to help us. We'll just have to hang out and see if we can catch him."

"Okay," Blair said. "Put him on the list." He held out his hand for the file and added it on top of Darrel Hess'. "Eighteen more to go."

Jim rolled his eyes but opened the next file.

*****

"We don't have any money," the man said. "If you want money, I'm not interested in talking to you."

"There's no money involved, Mr. Nichols," Jim assured him. "We hope to be able to give you something, actually. We think we might be able to help your son. And if that's true, and we can accept him as a student, there's no charge associated with it."

"I don't understand. What do you do? Do you experiment on them or something, because--"

"No, we don't do anything like that. As I said before," Jim said patiently, "we have a school for students with heightened senses. We think it's possible that rather than autism, your son is lost inside his senses. We'd like to meet with him and see if we can help him."

"I don't understand."

Jim closed his eyes, his patience clearly exhausted. He handed the phone to Blair who was between phone calls. Blair took it with an understanding grin. "Hi, I'm Dr. Blair Sandburg."

"I don't understand," the father said again.

"He doesn't understand," Jim mouthed to him.

"I got that," Blair mouthed back. Looking quickly at the file, he said to the father, "I understand that your son has been given a diagnosis of autism, is that right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Does your son talk anymore?"

"No, sometimes, but not to me. He talks to the air. He hits the air. It's like he's hallucinating."

"Okay. Autism is when someone seems to live in a land of fantasy rather than in the world of reality." He looked for a name in the file.

"I know what autism is, Dr. Sandburg, I'm in the medical field."

"Um, okay. Okay. Thanks for telling me that. It's true that Clifford might be autistic, but there's also a possibility that there's something entirely different going on that we can help him with to bring him back."

"Like what?"

"There are people who can hear really well. Can hear conversations in all the houses around you, sometimes for blocks away. Or they can smell odors, or see things that a normal person couldn't. Imagine, if you will, what it would be like for a young child who can't understand what's happening, if they could hear everyone's conversations around them. The good stuff and the bad stuff. They might try to talk back. They might get frightened when they hear bad things."

"You think that's what's happening to Cliff?"

"It's a possibility. We won't really know until we see him."

"So you can help him?"

"We might be able to. And he might need to come to our school so he can learn how to use his gifts and not be frightened of them."

"I don't even know who you are. I'm not going to let you take my son."

"Of course not," Blair said. "If at all possible, we'd want you to come as well."

Jim stared at him.

Blair shrugged back, his hands open to a what-am-I-supposed-to-do gesture.

"I guess you could come see him," the father said dubiously.

"Great!" Blair enthused, going with the words, not the man's tone of voice. "We'll contact you when we'll be in the area, hopefully over the next couple of weeks. Thank you so much."

"Okay. What was your name again?"

"Dr. Blair Sandburg."

"So, is that it?"

"For now. I'll call you in a few days. Until then, take care of yourself."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You. Treat yourself to something."

"Treat myself?" He spoke as if the idea was completely foreign.

Blair ached for the man. The journey his son had taken him on had not been an easy one. "Maybe a hot fudge sundae, or a walk in the park."

"A hot fudge sundae?"

Blair smiled. "You like that idea? Go get one. Wait, you're not diabetic are you?"

"No. No. I can't even remember the last time I had a hot fudge sundae," the man mused.

"So, go forth, conquer your local ice cream shop."

"I think I will."

Blair laughed. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay, Dr. Sandburg. Thanks."

Blair hung up.

"You want to bring their families?" Jim demanded.

"What did you want me to say? That we'd take his six-year-old son away from him? The families have to come. Besides, they should be able to share in the wonder of what their child is. We'll just have to have some family housing."

Jim sighed. "We haven't even started and it's already out of control."

Blair got up, moved to Jim and straddled his lap. "I'll make it worth your while, big guy."

"Yeah, you better."

Blair rested his head against Jim's shoulder, letting out a contented hum when Jim rubbed his back.

"An ice cream sundae?" Jim asked with a smile.

"He needed something," Blair insisted. "I figured it was cheap, probably pretty accessible, and something that would bring back good memories."

"I love you," Jim said, kissing the top of Blair's head.

"I love you, too." He rested there another minute then pulled back. "So, where are we?" He got up and sat next to Jim.

"We've made eight phone calls. We've got four to see, two we've left messages for, that one guy who I think was a Sentinel told us to fuck off and die, and that fifteen year old girl--." Jim didn't finish the sentence.

"Is dead," Blair finished it for him. "They weren't saying much but I'm guessing she killed herself."

Jim tried to kiss the sad expression from Blair's face, pleased when it looked like he succeeded. "Twelve more calls. You up to them?"

Blair sighed. "Yup." He grabbed the top one from Jim's pile. "Thelia Arnold. Another fifteen year old." He put it back down on Jim's pile, got up and moved back to where his stack of files lay. "Let's get it done."

*****

"No, Mr. Mayor," Simon said for the fourth time. "I appreciate the fact that you're proud of this school, but we can't really advertise it publicly like that."

"But everyone in town already knows about the school," the Mayor protested.

Simon doubted that. "That may be so, but we just can't have a sign that's posted at all the city limits that Hillsboro Hills is the Home of the Sentinel School."

"Why not?"

Simon wanted to rip the phone out of the wall. Did the man have no concept of security? For the third time, he said, "Because we want to keep the children safe. We want to keep the curious away. The school isn't a tourist attraction. It's a serious concern."

"How about a banner across Main Street when the school officially opens?"

Simon tapped his fingers on his desk. "Once again, I appreciate your enthusiasm. We couldn't do this without your support, but for the time being, we need to keep a low profile. I understand word will get out, but I'd just as soon not hurry things along."

"Well, I think you're going about this all wrong," the Mayor said. "How do you expect to get students if you don't advertise? You're not going to make any money that way."

"We're not here to make money, Mr. Mayor. We're here to help a very select group of students, some of whom might be troubled and sick, and we don't need a bunch of people driving up to the school every day wanting to take a look. We need to protect our students' privacy."

"Well, I think you should give it some more consideration. I hate to miss an opportunity to build up our town."

"I'm hoping that will happen just because of the new employment opportunities we'll be providing," Simon said as diplomatically as he could. It's not like he could actually stop the man from putting banners anywhere he wanted. "I'd hate to have to find a new location because we can't protect our students from curiosity seekers."

"No, no, can't have that," the Mayor, briskly backtracking. "Have to take care of the kids."

"Good," Simon said, his eyes rolling. "Glad to hear it. I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities to make this school work to our mutual advantage," Simon said. It was a good thing he believed in the school so much. It helped him find just that extra measure of patience and goodwill when dealing with the people they had to have on their side. "We should have some design plans ready for the next town hall meeting. I'll make sure you get to see them first."

"I'd appreciate that, Simon. Well, better go. Keep me posted."

"I will. Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

The Mayor hung up. So did Simon. He had to admit that, as a whole, the politicians of Hillsboro Hills weren't a bad bunch, but the Mayor was looking for a way up and out. Simon didn't want him to use the school for that; Simon would make sure he didn't.

*****

The next day, Jim and Blair sat in what was once Mr. Smith's office, and was now Simon's. Jim, a satisfied look on his face, hung up the phone. "That's the last of them."

Simon entered the office just in time to see Jim's pleased expression. "Last of what?"

"Our first twenty Sentinel phone calls," Blair said.

"What's the final tally?" Simon asked, sitting in his brand new office chair, behind his brand new desk. Blair had insisted that all of the things that Mr. Smith used be taken out and destroyed. Blair had said there wasn't enough sage in the world to eliminate the man's stench, and Simon wasn't inclined to argue.

Jim put the last file on the largest pile. He touched the shortest stack. "Two dead." His hand moved to the two piles that looked fairly similar in height. "Five want nothing to do with us, four we can't find." Jim's hand moved to the larger pile. "And we have nine to visit, although a couple of those are sort of iffy."

"Not once they get a gander at Blair," Simon said. "Maybe it's not always the reaction we want, but they all can tell he's something important."

Jim scowled unhappily at Blair.

Blair touched his arm. "We're bonded now, Jim. Not only do I have your strength, but every Sentinel we meet will know I'm not available."

"It didn't keep John from wanting you," Jim said in a tight voice.

"He'd already fixated on Blair," Simon countered. He gestured at the pile. "How old are the ones you're going to go see?"

"Four years to seventeen years," Blair said.

"Kids," Simon said to Jim. "The two of you can handle kids." He handed them the piece of paper he'd just plucked off the fax machine. "Meanwhile, take a look at this bozo."

Blair and Jim, heads together, scanned the paper. "He doesn't look familiar," Blair said. "Should he?"

"Probably not," Simon said. "He called yesterday, asking all sorts of questions about the school, saying he thought he was a Sentinel. He seemed specifically interested in the ages of the students. Anyway, he rubbed me the wrong way, so I had Joel run him." He handed Jim a second sheet.

"Sexual offender?" Jim asked.

"Repeatedly," Simon said. "The guy's a scumbag. I'm going to call him back later today and tell him we're on to him, and that there're a bunch of cops who work here just aching to slap his ass back in jail. I don't expect we'll see his face, but I thought you should know that we're starting to attract attention."

Blair grimaced. "He must look for new schools to stalk. We just got our charter license so we must have shown up on some list somewhere." He dropped the piece of paper with disgust.

"He won't come here, Chief," Jim promised him. "Once he knows there are cops here, he'll turn his attention elsewhere."

"Great," Blair said morosely.