Author: Joan Z and Neichen
Permission to archive: Yes
Fandoms: Sentinel/BtVS crossover
Pairing/Characters: Jim/Blair Spike/Xander Jim/Spike Jim/Xander Xander/Blair
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I am only keeping the fandom alive in our hearts.
Summary: Xander has been rescued from his kidnappers, but an overdose of a memory-erasing drug has destroyed part of the mental pathways he used as a guide.
The group suspects that Xander is still in danger from who ever shot down the Generals plane.
Warnings: Group sex, a four-way relationship, Hurt/comfort, explicit M/M sex, angst, partner exchange, Possible character death, possible multi partner. If it can be imagined I may write it so be warned.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to my beta Kerensa and to Neichen for her encouragement.
An: If you have not read Runaway Guide 1 or you missed any chapters, you can read it on WWOMB.
Sentinel Prime Peter Wall had been sitting in the Sentinel Alpha Prime’s waiting room for half an hour. From the muffled sounds Peter could hear coming from the Alpha Prime’s office the sentinel was using his guide. Not surprising in itself, any sentinel would scent mark his guide when he knew another sentinel was going to be close by, it was normal sentinel behavior; but the timing was inconsiderate as far as Peter was concerned. He was told to be here in one hour and he had arrived on time only to be keep waiting.
Peter didn’t like his boss; he was opinionated and unbending. The first time he had met the Alpha Prime he had brought his guide, Wesley, with him. The sentinel had looked Wesley up and down and asked what “its” number was. Peter didn’t understand at first, not until the sentinel turned his anger on Peter.
“Its psy number, what is it?” the Alpha Prime asked curtly, his anger clearly showing.
Peter gave a proud smile. “Wesley is a 7.8,” he said.
“Get it out of my office,” the sentinel said as he turned and walked to his desk. “I never want to see it in here again.”
When Wesley had closed the door behind him the Alpha Prime began his orientation speech.
“I am Sentinel Alpha Prime Byron Macfie Harris. The Harris’ have been sentinels for as long as written records have been kept. I don’t believe in bonding with high functioning empaths. It takes away a sentinel’s edge, brings them down to mundane levels of functioning. My own guide is a 3.2, I can fuck her six time a day and not lose my edge. If I had my way guides would still be property and no sentinel under me would bond with a guide above a 3.9.But I don’t have my way and there are not enough guides to go around so we have to make do.”
‘Well,’ Peter thought, ‘that explains his anger.’ It was not advised to attempt a permanent bond with an empath rated lower than a 4. A low rated empath would not be able to channel away the stress that was worked up by a sentinel using his senses. An empath at that level could keep a sentinel from zoning or going rogue but the sentinel would never be able to completely relax either.
“According to your file,” the Alpha Prime continued, “you’re one of the best operatives in the Agency. That’s why you’ve been promoted to Sentinel Prime. But I am telling you right now, Wall, lose your edge on any of your assignments and you’ll be busted to night security guard on the docks. Got it?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Peter answered. ‘Apparently the Sentinel Prime is a hard ass that thinks constant anger is an edge, Peter thought. ‘But it’s not the kind of edge I want.’
“Good, then we understand each other,” the Alpha Prime growled. “I have a long-term covert assignment for you. There is a guide, Alexander Harris, and before you ask, yes, he is a relative, my brother’s spawn to be exact. I just got a report that he was abused at guide school. It seems that this, Ethan Rayne, saw something in the guide and managed to bring out a reliable level of telepathic hazard perception. I want guide Harris brought into the Agency; I want you to find a suitable sentinel to bond with him. Unfortunately, the brat is a high level empath so it won’t be easy finding someone that can bond with him and keep his edge.”
‘There’s that edge thing again,’ Peter thought.
“I need a sentinel with the right mindset,” the alpha prime said while tapping his pen on his desk. “One that is committed to improving the sentinel gene pool. I plan on harvesting the guide’s genetic material and finding out where this hazard perception ability comes from. If it’s on his sentinel gene then we’ll breed him. If not we will splice it onto the sentinel gene and breed for the trait that way. It’s only fitting the ability should come from a Harris, and then this unfortunate smear of a guide in our family history can be erased.”
Peter was very practiced with not letting his emotions show. He managed, although not easily, to keep the shock he felt at the Alpha Prime’s distain for guides from his face. He had met other “old school” sentinels but none with such a high rank. Most of them were either retired or resigned when the reforms were put into place. Peter could see a guide tent at the corner of his peripheral vision. The tent had replaced the cage when cages were outlawed. He wondered how Sentinel Harris had climbed to the rank of Alpha Prime and decided that it must have been a case of, not what you know, but who you know.
“Don’t rush this, Wall,” the Alpha Prime commanded. “If it takes a year or two to find the right sentinel to claim the brat, so be it. Just make sure that the wrong sort doesn’t claim him and that the Agency gets control of the guide. All the information you need is in this folder. Dismissed.
Peter picked up the folder, saluted, and left the Alpha Prime’s office, glad to be out of his presence.
The secretary’s voice jolted Peter out of his memories. “You can go in now.”
The smell of sex with a female guide assaulted Peter as he opened the office door. He managed to turn down his scent dial and set his face in an indifferent expression as he walked through the door.
“At ease,” the Alpha Prime snapped when Peter closed the office door and approached the Alpha Prime’s desk. “Report.”
“Guide Harris is recovering from his injuries.” Peter began in a clipped, no nonsense voice. “It has been confirmed by his doctors that his memories of the kidnapping incident, have been mostly destroyed; only disjointed fragments remain. Guide Sandburg and Sentinel Spikeman have been healing Guide Harris on a daily basis. Sentinel Ellison and Guide Sandburg have returned to work in the Major Crimes division of the Cascade Police Force. Sentinel Spikeman and Guide Harris remain on sick leave.”
“Did I hear you state in your report that Sentinel Spikeman was healing his guide?”
“Sir, that is correct, sir.” Peter wondered if he should report Spike’s healing ability to the Alpha Prime, but he knew that the sentinel would have reports from the doctors and he would be confronted with the information if he neglected to report it. In the end he decided to mention it in passing and hope that the Alpha Prime would stay focused on Xander and not switch to discussing Spike.
“Sentinel’s do not have healing abilities, Wall.”
“Sir, it appears that Sentinel Spikeman is unique in that ability, sir.”
“Has this been confirmed?” the Sentinel Prime asked.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Peter continued, keeping his eyes focused on a spot on the back wall of the office. “The doctors at the hospital have confirmed that the majority of Guide Harris’ healing has been accomplished with Sentinel Spikeman. Guide Sandburg’s contribution, while substantial, has been minimal in comparison.”
“How can Spikeman have healing abilities, does he carry a guide gene?”
“Sir, no sir, he does not. Guides never trigger as sentinels, sir.” He took an opportunity to get back to discussing Xander. “The Ellison pack believes that Ethan Rayne was attempting to trigger Guide Harris’ sentinel gene. What was done to Guide Harris would be enough to trigger any sentinel and yet his sentinel gene remains dormant.”
“So what you are telling me, Wall, is that Sentinel James Ellison, the best covert ops officer I have ever had the honor of meeting and one damn suspicious bastard has managed to bring into his pack a sentinel with healing abilities and a guide that has reliable hazard detection. Both of which were supposed to be in the Agency’s employ by now. Exactly how do you plan to fix this, Wall and get the Harris guide and this Sentinel Spikeman into the Agency and under our control?”
“Sir, I don’t believe that is possible at this time. Sentinel Ellison has claimed sentinel Spikeman as his second and the sentinels have cross-bonded with Guides Sandburg and Harris. The best we can do at this time is to keep them monitored. I have a friendship with both Sentinel Ellison and Sentinel Spikeman and have put myself in a position of trust. I will be able to keep the situation under control.”
“Cross-bonding! How the hell did that happen, Wall? You were supposed to stay on top of this. Simple monitoring and friendship is not enough control, not with James Ellison in the picture.”
“Sir, the cross-bond happened before the abduction, sir.”
“That’s a mighty tight timeline you’re proposing, Wall.”
“Sir, yes sir, I agree, but it is how it happened.”
“How did Ellison find out Spikeman has healing abilities?”
Back to Spikeman again, Peter gave a mental moan. “Sir, I don’t believe that that is the reason that Sentinel Ellison claimed Spikeman for his second.”
“The man was a school teacher and a bad poet before he became a sentinel. Why else would a sentinel like Ellison bring him into his pack?”
“Sir, Spikeman is in everyway Jim Ellison’s equal as a sentinel.”
Alpha Prime Harris leaned back in his chair and glared at Sentinel Wall. “Look at me sentinel,” he said in a seething voice that sent a chill down Peter Wall’s spine. “Do you expect me to believe that a schoolteacher goes into a coma and comes out of it a first generation sentinel equal to James Ellison, a black ops trained officer and who has a family history of sentinels that stretch back as far as my own family history?”
Peter Wall blinked and swallowed when he looked into the angry indigo eyes of the Alpha Prime. Most men took a step back when confronted with those eyes. It took every ounce of will power Peter had to keep his feet firmly planted to the floor. “Sir,” he said as he swallowed and struggled to keep eye contact with the Alpha Prime. “I can only report the truth, sir.”
“You handpicked this Spikeman to bond with guide Harris. Now you tell me that he is an equal to James Ellison. In what way is that someone we can control? You are one damn lucky bastard that you have established trust with the Ellison Pack or you would be out of the Agency so fast you wouldn’t have a chance to kiss your ass good-bye. I’ll let you continue with the monitoring for now. This opportunity will not slip through my fingers. Guide Harris will contribute to the future upgrade of the sentinel gene pool.
You’ve lost your edge on this matter, Wall, too much bonding with that high functioning guide. I can smell it on you. Figure out a way to get me that brat’s spunk in a cup and while you’re at it I’ll take Spikeman’s DNA as well. A sentinel with healing abilities could be very useful in the field. Do that, get your edge back, and I’ll consider letting you keep your guide; fail me and I will have that guide of yours declared unfit and your bond with him stripped, there are level three’s available for bonding. You’re a Sentinel Prime you can’t afford this kind of screw-up. Am I making myself clear sentinel?”
“Failure is not an option, Wall. Dismissed.”
Spike opened his arms to a glowing Xander when he returned to the kitchen with Jim.
“Miss me?” Xander asked.
“A little,” Spike answered. “But I knew you were in good hands.” Spike looked at Jim and mouthed a thank you.
“Mmmm,” Xander said, as he snuggled his nose into Spike’s neck and began absent-mindedly licking.
Jim’s face clouded with concern and he looked at Blair who moved toward him. Blair knew what he was thinking, guides don’t lick sentinel’s necks. It is instinct for a sentinel to suck and lick a guide’s neck. A sentinel craves the pheromones that a guide gland gives off in large amounts when being stimulated. Sentinels have no such gland and even if they did, a guide would not have the hyper-senses needed to taste its excretions.
Xander had been a bit assertive while they renewed their bond. Jim didn’t think anything of it at the time. As soon as he rolled Xander onto his back he fell into the usual guide practice of letting the sentinel take the lead, but now he wondered if it was just Xander being Xander or something more.
“Hey, that tickles,” Spike said, as he pulled Xander’s head away. “And we need to eat dinner before it’s ruined.”
“Spike and I talked about this,” Blair whispered. “We’ll bring you up to date after dinner.”
Jim forced a smile on his face. “Let’s eat,” he said. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m famished.”
Please comment. Comments help readers find good stories.