&&&&< 8 > &&&&

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.
-- Jane Howard --

Ezra turned over on his side and reached under his pillow to pull out the plastic card that had been given to him that morning at the Guild Hall.  He angled the card so he could use the dim moonlight shining through the window to see the card’s face, running his fingers over it lightly to try and convince himself he wasn’t dreaming.  He still could not completely believe it.  He, Ezra Standish, was now a member of the Sentinel and Guide Guild, and as if that wasn’t enough, he was bonded to the Sentinel Elite.  The wonder of that still left him speechless.  My Sentinel, mine, mine, mine! he mentally chanted gleefully.  

Ezra rubbed absently at the tiny itch on his shoulder where the Guild symbol had been tattooed.  Chris had explained that the tattoo was for his protection.  It was so if he were ever in a situation where he couldn’t speak for himself, like an accident, then it would let the proper authorities know that they needed to contact the Guild so they could look after him properly. It made Ezra feel more than ever as if he belonged.  The boy hugged himself, nearly overcome with the feelings that were almost too big for his nine year old body to contain.

The day had been a long one as Chris had warned.  They had gotten registered then gone down to another office where Buck and Chris filled out more paper work so that their partnerships with Vin and Ezra could be published so EVERYONE would know to whom they belonged.  Ezra had to keep a tight rein on himself or he would have been dancing down the halls by Chris instead of walking in the dignified manner he mother always insisted was proper for civilized beings.   He hadn’t been quite as successful with the grin that was on his face, or in the happy emotions that leaked into the bond, but that was okay because he could feel an answering gladness reflected back from his Sentinel.

They had stopped by Chris’ office where he had introduced them to the tall, slender man that was his assistant, Wolfe Custler.  Ezra had tried hard to remember his manners and not stare at the terrible scar that covered most of the left side of the man’s face.  Buck had to surreptitiously nudge Vin to stop the child from gaping at the disfigurement with a little boy’s fascination of the morbid.  They had only stayed long enough for Chris to make a few phone calls while Buck entertained the children with outlandish tales of deeds performed by some of the legendary Sentinel/Guide pairs who’s portraits could be found in the gallery a few doors down from the Guild Master’s office.

From there, the four of them headed toward the Guild Medical Center where Vin and Ezra were introduced to Chris’ and Buck’s long time friends, Alpha Sentinel Dr. Nathan Jackson and his bondmate Alpha Guide Dr. Josiah Sanchez who was a psychologist. 

The bonded pair was surprised speechless at the news of their long time friends’ bondings then were thrilled for the two men and the boys.  At Chris’ insistence, Nathan had performed complete physicals on the boys and pronounced them in good health except for being a little undernourished and tired, much to the relief of their adult bondmates.  

Nathan had been the one to give them their tattoos, spreading a cool white cream on their skin first that numbed it so the little machine he pressed to their shoulders didn’t hurt as Ezra had been afraid it would.   Vin had resisted the whole idea until Nathan had explained that they didn’t use needles to get the dye under their skin but a very high-pressure jet of air.   With the anesthetic cream, it had tickled more than anything.

Nathan and Josiah had received an invitation for dinner the following night, so the two men could get to know the boys and vice versa, which they happily accepted.

The men and boys had grabbed lunch at a kid-friendly restaurant around one o’clock then the rest of the day had been spent shopping for everything the two boys needed from clothing to toys to school supplies.    It was an exhausted quartet that finally exited the shopping mall several hours later laden with shopping bags.  Chris decided he and Buck were too tired to cook so they picked up a couple of pizzas and went straight home.

The evening had been full of laughter and teasing and just generally getting to know each other.  Ezra had never had so much fun in his life.  When it got close to bedtime, Chris had shuffled him off to the bathroom to bathe and brush his teeth then had carried him into the bedroom that had been designated as Ezra’s and read him a story from one of Ezra’s new books.   Ezra almost told Chris that he was too old for story time, but was glad he hadn’t later when he discovered he quite liked the quiet time he spent laying next to Chris as he read to him.

When the story was done, Ezra had watched the man tuck him in and then bend over to place a soft kiss on his forehead.  At Chris’ whispered “Sleep well, little man,” Ezra felt his chest tightening with the need to cry at such tenderness being directed at him. Chris had turned out the light as he exited the room and shut the door, leaving only a splinter of light to shine through on the boy that lay there in the dark and wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky.   

Never in a million years would Ezra have guessed that when his mother drove away and left him at Mr. Smith’s house with a mumbled “Be good and do what you are told” that he would wind up where he was now.

He had assumed at first that this was just going to be like one of the dozens of other times she had left him with strangers.  He thought he would spend a few weeks trying to make himself invisible until his mother came back to pick him up once again, but it had taken less than a day for him to find out that Mr. Smith had something far more permanent in mind, and that his mother had been only to happy to agree to it. 

His mother had never been especially affectionate.  She had been a tough disciplinarian, insisting on his absolute obedience and unwavering observance of her rules of behavior. She had never been physically abusive, seeing violence as uncivilized and beneath her, but then she really had no need to get physical. She had been too proficient at uncaringly ripping his tender self esteem to shreds with her sharp tongue. 

She had told him he was useless so many times that he had just naturally come to believe it.  Although, she had certainly been excited enough when she had first found out he was an emerging Guide.   

His new status as a Guide had been discovered when he was six years old.  His mother had been planning to dump him in a boarding school while she jetting off to Europe to seek a new husband/victim to prey on.  The school had required a physical before admittance and the test for Sentinel/Guide abilities was a routine part of the exam process. His mother had been quiet for days after receiving the news that he was a Guide.  At first, Ezra had thought she was angry but it soon became apparent that she had been in deep thought, planning how to turn his newly discovered talents to her benefit. 

The dreaded boarding school stay had never come to be as they had left town right away and his mother immediately dropped the new identities she had painstakingly created for them for her latest scam, and they each assumed a new one.  She had warned him most severely never to speak those names again.  Ezra had not known why she had been so insistent about it, but thinking back, he now realized she had not wanted the Guild to find out about him.

She had found his rapidly developing empathic talent useful, using him to determine when someone was bluffing in a poker game, or when someone was lying when trying to conduct a business deal. He had thought after years of being made to feel he was nothing but a burden to her that she had finally come to appreciate him and welcome his presence in her life.  It had made the affection-starved boy eager to do everything she had asked of him. 

He had never questioned her motives.  At least until the night that she had grabbed his arm to hustle him out of a hotel in Atlantic City two steps ahead of the police and he had gotten his first experience of reading HER emotions. She usually had such tight natural shields that Ezra could never read her, but she has been so tired, rushed and upset that her shields had faltered just enough for Ezra to get a flash of what lay behind them.

Ezra shivered at the memory.  For months afterwards he had tried to reconcile the bright, beautiful woman he was used to seeing with his eyes and the dark, grasping soul he glimpsed with his mind.  It took several more of those accidental flashes before he could acknowledge the truth to himself.  His mother did not love anyone but herself and cared about no one’s needs but her own.  He was nothing more to her than a tool to be used and discarded. 

His innocence had died with the realization.

For years Ezra had thought that deep inside, even though she did not always show it, his mother loved him; that she valued him.  Thanks to his talents, he had come to realize that she had never felt anything remotely resembling love for him.  Thanks to Mr. Smith, Ezra now knew for certain what value his mother placed on him: a quarter of a million dollars in cash, to be exact.  It had left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about it, so he had tried not to. 

Instead, he had tried to get used to the idea that she was never coming back for him and he was on his own for good this time.  It would have been a lonely, deeply scary feeling for anyone, but especially for a nine year boy in an unfamiliar place surrounded by nothing but strangers.

Ezra used the month in that Appalachian hideaway to practice his skills at fading into the background.  As long as he did not try to leave the grounds or get in the way of the staff they virtually ignored him, the exception being meal times when one of the servants carried a try up to his room and left it for him to find.  Ezra spent his time wandering the grounds and poking into every corner of the house when he was not reading one of the books he had filched from the large library he had stumbled across in the house.  

The time actually passed quite pleasantly for the boy, and he had almost decided that it was a great place to be except for those times that Mr. Smith put in an appearance.  On two occasions he had visited during Ezra’s confinement at the compound and both times the empathic Ezra had been bombarded with the man’s dark, malicious feelings, leaving the child feeling soiled and dirty.   The only thing he wanted to do was get away from his captor, going so far on one occasion as to hide in his closet until the man left again just to avoid coming into contact with him.

Then Vin had been brought to the compound and everything had changed again. 

Vin was the first Sentinel Ezra had ever been around before.  It had been instinctual for him to reach out for the other boy when Vin had pushed out his hearing to follow Mr. Smith after their first disastrous meeting, and started to zone.  Ezra had not known what he was doing but he had managed to pull Vin back from the impending zone in time for Vin to hear Mr. Smith’s conversation with the mysterious Mason.  That had been the beginning of their working partnership, both children relying on genetic memory and instinct to guide them since they both lacked training in using their respective gifts.   

They had fled their gilded prison and grown close on their cross county getaway, relying on one another for support and comfort in world proven uncaring and cold and frightening. They had kept going until they had stumbled on to the one place they had both unknowingly been searching for: home.  

Now, after years of being emotionally abandoned, Ezra had a good friend, and a Sentinel of his very own to take care of and have take care of him. Someone finally wanted him, Ezra Standish, and to the nine year old it seemed more miraculous than anything that had ever happened in the history of the world.  He was afraid to go to sleep in case he woke up in the morning to find out it had all been a dream.

Ezra looked up as the door to his bedroom opened and Chris stuck his head in.

“Go to sleep, Ezra,” he ordered firmly but not unkindly. “You need your sleep, and it’s going to be another long day tomorrow.”

The boy looked at him in surprise, “How did you...?” He whispered wondering how the man had known he was still awake.

Larabee gave him a little smile and answered, “We’re bonded, remember?  I’ll always know if you’re awake when you’re supposed to be sleeping...and a lot of other things, too.”

Ezra stared back at him completely disconcerted.  This was one aspect of being bonded that he had not expected.  He wasn’t sure he liked it either.

Chris could feel the boy’s emotions coming over the bond and he laughed softly.  “Welcome to my world, Ez.  You’ll get used to it.  Now, close those eyes and get some sleep.”

Ezra’s eyes snapped shut, and he hunkered underneath the covers at the Sentinel’s quiet command, clutching his Guild ID to his chest the way another child might have a Teddy bear.

Buck was having a more difficult time settling his bondmate in for the night. Before he shuffled off for his own shower and tooth-brushing, Vin insisted on accompanying Chris on his nightly checking of all the doors and windows, something Buck wasn’t surprised at since it was typical Sentinel behavior.   

Unlike Ezra, Vin insisted he was too big for a bedtime story and instead tackled his Guide around the knees and caused him to fall back on the child’s bed.  Vin promptly launched himself at the prone man and began a combination tickle/wrestle-fest that they both enjoyed until Chris came in and sternly told them both it was bedtime.

Vin sighed heavily, but obeyed the Elite’s orders and climbed into his bed with no further attempts at stalling.  Buck pulled the covers up around the child and tucked them in.  He leaned over and kissed Vin on the forehead, softly whispering, “Sleep tight, Bubba.  I’ll see ya in the morning,” before pulling back and making his way out of the room.   Within two minutes, Vin was out like a light, the long day catching up to him at last.  

 

&&&&< 9 > &&&&

The two weary men wandered back to the large den. Chris fell into his lounge chair and Buck collapsed on the sofa.

“Well, old dawg, we made it through the first day.  Maybe this won’t be as hard as I figured,” Buck said leaning back and propping bare feet on the coffee table with a tired sigh.

Chris snorted in response. “Don’t count on it.  They’re good little boys, but getting into trouble is par for the course for the breed.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Buck argued.  “Like you said they’re good kids, and whatever trouble they get into will be no worse than what you or I did when we were there age.”  Buck grinned.  “I guess it’ll be payback for our parents.”

“Speaking of which,” Chris said looking at his friend musingly, “I guess I’d better call and let my folks know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Buck agreed, “although they’ve probably heard all about it through the grapevine already.  I’m glad I’m not you when your mother gets a hold of you.”  The last was said with a smirk.

Chris grimaced as he realized his friend was right.  He should have phoned his folks this morning.  His Mom especially was not going to appreciate hearing his good news second hand and he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to let him know it. 

“I don’t know that I would want to be you either, because as I remember it, you haven’t called your mother to tell her about Vin.  I think my Mom will be easier to deal with than yours.  My mother will get pissed.  Yours will probably get all teary and act hurt.  I think I’d rather deal with pissed,” Chris retorted with fervor.

Buck thought on it and had to agree. “Aw, shoot.  You’re probably right.  I better go call and explain it to her,” he said with a sigh as he rose and headed for his room where he had left his cell phone.

Chris watched him shuffle out of the den before turning to the end table beside his chair and picking up the phone receiver. 

Although Chris had been close to his parents before Sarah's and Adam's deaths, he had pushed them away in the last three years along with everyone else.  He knew they had been hurt by his attitude but, none the less, they had done their best to be as supportive as he had allowed them to be. 

Chris knew he had a lot to make up for with his parents, but he just hadn’t been able to deal with their grief and his own at the time.  Maybe now that he would be trying for a more normal life he could rebuild some of the bridges he had tried so hard to burn between them.  It was just one more positive thing to come out of his bonding with Ezra.

Chris punched in the number and waited for the call to connect.  The phone was answered on the first ring.

“It’s about time you called us, Christopher,” his mother’s warm voice came across the phone lines and wrapped around him in that soft, comforting way that it always had.  Chris wasn’t surprised that she knew it was him. Maris Larabee always knew.

“I know.  I’m sorry, Mom,” Chris told her sincerely.  “I assume you’ve already heard the news.”

“If you mean that you’ve found another bondmate that just happens to be a little boy, and you took him into the Guild Hall this morning to get him registered, then yes, I have heard the news.  I’m completely torn between being happy for you and irritated that you didn’t think to call us with the good news the first thing,” his mother sighed.

“It’s a long story, Mom,” Chris replied with a guilty voice.

“I think you need to tell me all about it, but wait until I get your father on the other line,” Maris told him crisply, and Chris could hear her calling to his father and telling him to get on the other phone.

“Hi, son,” Steven Larabee’s deep voice greeted him a few minutes later.  “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Chris said warmly.

“So, Christopher,” his mother said in that tone he recognized so well from his childhood as being her ‘I want the truth and I want it now’  voice, “Tells us about your bondmate.”

“His name is Ezra Standish.  He’s nine years old.  He’s had a rough time of it for the last month or so, so he’s a little underweight, but Nathan assures me that he’s healthy.  He’s got reddish brown hair, and these amazing green eyes.  They’ll make you just want to grab him up and hug him when he turns them on you,” Chris told them with obvious warmth and affection for the child.  “He is the smartest thing you’ll ever find, and so well mannered you wouldn’t believe it.  He’s a great boy.  I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

“If you had called us earlier we might have gotten to speak to him and judge for ourselves,” his mother said archly. 

Chris sighed.  “I really am sorry for not calling you and Dad this morning, but I was concentrating too hard on keeping him safe, Mom.  My only thought was to get him enrolled in the Guild so he would be protected,” Chris told her frankly.

Maris’ voice softened along with her attitude.  “What’s wrong, baby boy?” she asked, using the pet name she had used since he was a toddler whenever he was hurt or upset.

Chris quietly filled them in on the boys’ whole story, struggling to contain the anger that reignited at the telling.  Both his parents were quiet when he finally ground to a halt after spilling it all.

“You were right, son,” Steven Larabee told him staunchly, his own anger coming across the phone line quite clearly.  “You had your priorities in exactly the right order.”

Chris couldn’t help the warmth that filled him at his father’s words.  It seemed he never got too old to desire this man’s approval.

“So what’s your next step?” his mother questioned gently.

Chris’ faced hardened to a chiseled mask and his voice turned to flint as he answered, “Now that he’s safe, we hunt them down and show everyone what happens to anyone who tries to treat a Sentinel or Guide like a commodity on the open market.  We’ll find them and make an example of them.  No one in their right minds will ever want to try it again when we get through with them.”

 There was silence on the other end of the phone at this harsh diatribe. 

“I meant, what was your next step with Ezra,” Maris clarified in a careful tone. 

“OH,” he said sheepishly and mentally changed gears. “Well, I think we’ll take a couple of days to just get to know each other better and let him settle in.  Then I’ll have to see about enrolling him in school. 

I haven’t decided if it would be better for him to go to the regular school in the town here and take classes at the Guild, or just send him to the Guild school full time.  I would like him to learn to deal with the rest of the world and not just Guild members, but I don’t know if this is the right time to try it.  I’m still debating it.  Before I make any kind of decision though I’m going to discuss it with Buck and see what he thinks because Vin and Ezra will probably want to stay together whatever we decide.”

“I imagine Buck is over the moon right now what with finding his Sentinel after all this time,” Steven told him and Chris could hear the grin in his father’s voice.

Chris chuckled.  “You know it.  You should see those two together. They’re perfect for each other.”

“If that’s an invitation, then we’ll see you tomorrow.  How does noon sound?  I’ll bring lunch for everyone,” Maris slipped in quickly.

Chris chuckled.  He had known there was no way his parents, especially his mother, were going to be put off from meeting his new bondmate as soon as humanly possible.  He didn’t even try to resist.  The truth was that Chris Larabee, Guild Master of the Sentinel and Guides Guild who commanded the allegiance of every Sentinel/Guide pair on the planet and made world leaders sit up and take notice when he had something to say, wanted to show off his new bondmate to his parents just like he had wanted to show off an A+ grade when he had been in elementary school.

“How about you come for breakfast instead.  I’ve got meetings called for most of the morning and lunch tomorrow maybe something grabbed at a conference table.”

His mother tut-tutted at him.  “And I suppose you’re going to drag that poor child into these meetings with you?”

“I need him near, Mom,” he answered defensively.  “We’re still too new to each other.  I...just need him close enough to see and touch.  I have to have him nearby so I can...can...well, reassure myself that he’s okay.  It should eventually get better, but for now I...”

“I’m sorry, baby boy,” his mother apologized softly. “I shouldn’t have teased you that way.  I should have realized that with all that’s happened you’d be a bit overprotective of Ezra for awhile.  I wasn’t thinking.  I was being selfish too, because I was going to offer to keep him while you were busy so I could have him all to myself for awhile.”

Grateful for her understanding, Chris laughed softly in return. “I appreciate the offer, Mom, but for right now I’ll have to pass. One of these days though,” he promised.

“As long as you know he’s always welcome,” Maris assured him.

“Thanks, Mom,” he told her sincerely.

“Well, I better get busy if I’m going to be feeding six in the morning,” his mother told him briskly.

“Mom, you really don’t have to do that.  You can just come over. Buck and I’ll take care of breakfast.”

“You already told me I could so I’m bringing breakfast, and that’s that,” Maris told him firmly.

Chris was chuckling when he answered, “When exactly did I say that?”

“Don’t argue with your mother,” Maris said sternly and Chris could hear his father laughing in the background.

“Give it up, son,” Steven laughingly told him.  “She’s determined to do this so you might as well give in gracefully.  You know how she is when she gets a bee in her bonnet.”

“Steven Larabee!” Maris squealed reproachfully.

Chris laughed harder.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.  Good night to both of you.”

“Night, son,” Steven answered.

“Sleep well, Chris,” she mother relented enough to say.

Chris hung up the phone feeling more at peace than he had all day.

The quiet rumbling of an engine and the crunch of tires on pavement woke Chris the next morning.  Still half asleep, he reached out with his hearing toward the vehicle coming down the long driveway to his home.  The quiet conversation going on in the car let him know that his parents were arriving as planned.  Chris glanced over at the clock on his bedside table and stifled a groan.  Six o’clock.  He should have remembered what early risers his folks were. 

Chris sighed heavily as he left the comfort of his bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and headed toward the front door. He almost tripped when he stepped out of his room and bumped into a little body standing in the middle of the hall.  Only his quick grab kept the pajama-clad boy from flying.

“Vin?” Chris asked with concern as he knelt on one knee, hands resting lightly on the little shoulders, and looked the child over for any injuries.  “You okay”

The little boy nodded but his head was still facing the front door. Chris could feel the tension almost vibrating in the boy’s frame. “There’s someone coming,” he said in a voice full of quiet anxiety.

Chris pulled him close for a hug and reassured him, “It’s alright, Vin. That’s just my parents.  I spoke to them on the phone last night and invited them to join us for breakfast this morning.  There’s nothing to worry about.  You and Ezra are safe.”

Vin slumped in his arms and Chris could feel the relieved breath the child released against his neck. The man pulled away from the boy and looked down at him with a smile.

“Why don’t you come and I’ll introduce you,” Chris offered.

“Okay,” Vin replied shyly. With the resilience of a child, he was all smiles now that he knew there was no danger.

Chris stood and led him to the front door and out on the porch just in time to see the Larabees’ car pull to a stop in front of the big ranch house. The man and boy watched as a tall, medium-built older man with light brown hair sprinkled liberally with grey and a slightly plump blonde woman emerged from the car with huge smiles.

“Judging by the blond hair, this must be Vin,” the woman called as she walked up the front sidewalk toward them followed by the gentleman. 

Vin watched her curiously, reaching out with his enhanced senses to study her in detail.  She came to a stop in front of him.

Maris Larabee waited patiently while the little Sentinel took her and her husband in.  Once upon a time, she probably would have been freaked out to be stared at so intensely she could almost FEEL the boy’s gaze on her skin. She didn’t have to see the little nostrils flare to know that he was scenting her, or see his head tilt slightly to one side as he listened to her heartbeat and breathing.   She had witnessed her son doing exactly the same thing too many times in the past to count. 

Chris’ senses had come on line at a very early age, years earlier than normal, in fact. Where most Sentinels started emerging in their early-  or  pre- teens, Chris had been online by the age of four.  Maris could still remember that frantic week after his first major zone out.  They hadn’t realized what was going on with their only son.  They had, in fact, feared he was epileptic.  It had taken the better part of a week for the tests their doctor had done to determine that their child was not epileptic but, in fact, a Sentinel.  Maris had cried in relief at the news.

It had taken some major readjusting in their lives, but both Maris and Steven Larabee had been determined to give their special son whatever he needed to thrive.  They had studied Sentinel customs and behaviors, remodeled their house to Sentinel-ize it for his comfort, and basically done whatever the Guild suggested they do for his development... except put him in the Guild boarding school.  That they had refused unequivocally.  He was their son and they had refused to pass the raising of him to anyone else. 

With their love and unwavering support the little boy that had cried at one time because his teddy bear squooshed too loudly when he hugged it had grown into a responsible, confident man that any parent would have been proud to call their own.

This wealth of past experience made it easy for the woman standing before this new little Sentinel to stay calm and unthreatening while Vin did his thing. When Vin seemed satisfied, Maris bent over and popped a quick kiss on his forehead.

“Welcome to the family, Vin,” she told him with a smile.  “Buck is just like another son to me so that makes you another grandson.  Although I’ll probably have to fight it out with Sharee for the title.”  Maris laughed at her own joke.

“Sharee?” Vin asked with puzzlement.

“Buck’s mom,” Chris informed the child when Vin looked at him questioningly.

“Oh,” the child nodded at the answer before turning to face Maris again.  “Is she comin’ today too?”

“Probably not,” Chris answered, “She lives a lot farther away than my mom and dad, so it would take her much longer to get here.  I know Buck talked to her last night, so you can ask him when he wakes up.”

“Okay,” Vin agreed cheerfully.  “You smell good,” he told Maris. “Like fruit.”

The woman laughed and reached out to pinch his super-sensitive nose affectionately.  “I imagine I do.  I’ve spent time this morning slicing strawberries and peaches for the waffles I’m going to make us for breakfast.  Do you like waffles?”

“Oh, yummm!” Vin replied enthusiastically.  “I LOVE waffles.  They’re my favorite breakfast.  We didn’t get to have them much in the orphanage, but my mom used to make them for me and my dad every Saturday.  I know how to pour the batter in the waffle iron and get the waffle out again without tearing it, too. You want me to help you make ‘em?”

“I think I would love to have your help, Vin,” Maris said and gave the boy a happy hug.  “Why don’t you come meet my husband, Steven, and then we can all haul in the supplies I brought for our breakfast.  You and I can work on the waffles and you can tell me all about yourself.  What do you say?”

Vin grinned mischievously and replied, “Sounds good to me, ma’am.  You want me to go wake up Buck to come help?  I wouldn’t mind.”

Maris laughed appreciatively and answered, “I’m sure you wouldn’t, you little scamp, but let’s Buck sleep a little while longer.  That way I get you all to myself for while.”

Chris introduced his father and the group made short work of unloading the Larabees’ car.  Maris entered the kitchen and immediately took charge.  She shooed Chris and his father out to take care of the morning feeding for the horses as she and Vin got busy making breakfast. 

Maris had mixed up a triple recipe of waffle batter the night before and stored it in two large covered bowls that she had on the counter by the large waffle iron she had also brought with her.  She plugged in the waffle iron so it could begin heating then began hauling out the things they would need.

Her next task was slipping slices of bacon into a large skillet and starting it to cooking. Then Maris looked in one of the lower cabinets and snagged a large mixing bowl next and set it on the counter before hunting down her son’s electric mixer.  She opened the thermos she had filled with ice cold whipping cream just before leaving that morning and poured it into the bowl.

“I’m going to start whipping this cream.  Do you think you can find some serving bowls to put the fruit in? ,” Maris blithely asked the child. “We’ll need three, because I brought blueberries, strawberries, and peaches.  They should be in that lower cabinet by the stove.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vin assured her with equal good cheer. 

“So, Vin,” Maris said casually as she worked, “Chris tells me that you were kidnapped from your home about a month ago. Where were you from?”

Vin’s voice was slightly muffled because his head was stuck in the cabinet as he searched through the stack for the bowls she wanted.  “San Antonio.  I lived in an orphanage there after my parents were killed in a car crash. They grabbed me when I was comin’ home from school.”

“I’m so sorry about your parents, Vin,” Maris told him softly with sincerity.

Vin shrugged.  It had been two years and he had learned to deal with their loss and the change in his circumstances. It was only rarely these days that the grief surged over him and left him raw and hurting.  He had learned to focus on his present needs and not on what he had lost.

“I know they wouldn’t have ever left me if they had a choice about it,” he told her.  “I just had to learn to do for myself.  I got along okay.  The orphanage wasn’t really a bad place.  They didn’t hurt me or nothing, and they wouldn’t let any of the older kids pick on the younger ones so it wasn’t too awful.  Although I got to tell you the food was pretty poor stuff sometimes.”

“Did you have friends there?” Maris asked curiously.

Another shrug from Vin.  “Not really.  Most of the kids there were either a lot older than I was or a lot younger.  The bigger kids mostly left me alone, and the little ones got most of the attention from the workers.  Worked out okay for me ‘cause nobody bothered me most of the time.  I liked it that way.  I had a good friend from school but he had to move away a few months before I was taken.”

“When did your Sentinel abilities start to show up?” she asked over the sound of the mixer she had started.  

“When my folks were killed,” Vin said quietly as he rose with three ceramic bowls in his hands and placed them on the counter.  “We were going on vacation to Disneyworld.  I remember being all excited and my Mom telling me that if I took a nap the time would go faster.  Only when I woke up the car was lying upside down and my folks weren’t moving.  I couldn’t get out because my seatbelt wouldn’t come undone and so I had to wait a long time until someone found the car and got me out.”

Aghast, Maris said, “My Lord, Vin, you must have been terrified!”

Vin tried to shrug it off, trying hard not to remember the coppery smell of his parents’ blood that had filled the car for the long hours before they were found.  Maris could tell though that he wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to be.  She turned off the mixer and set it on its end with the beaters over the bowl and reached out to pull the boy to her, wrapping her arms around him and offering comfort that she knew was too little, too late.

Vin had missed his Mom’s hugs, and he discovered at once that Maris knew how to hug like a mom.  Vin snuggled into the hug enjoying it.

“Anyway,” he went on, “I just remember being able to hear lots of things that I normally wouldn’t have heard while I was trying to listen for anybody coming to get us.  The rest of my senses just seemed to get better a little bit at a time.  It was scary at first, ‘cause I didn’t know why I could suddenly do those things. 

When they put me in the orphanage, I just wanted to be left alone.  Everybody thought it was because I was sad about my mom and dad going away –- which I was – but mostly I was just trying to deal with everything being too loud and too bright, and smelling too strong and that was easier to do when there weren’t people around.  I didn’t realize that what was happening to me meant I was a Sentinel.”

“And yet it was another two years before anyone recognized that you had Sentinel abilities?”  Maris asked with amazement.  “Didn’t you have zone outs during that time?” Maris said, completely amazed that no one had noticed what was going on with this child and he had been left on his own to deal with emerging senses the best he could.

“Yes, ma’am, but like I said, they left me alone pretty much, so nobody was around to see ‘em.”

“How did you finally get diagnosed?” the woman asked curiously

“I was playing on the monkey bars in the play yard and my hand slipped off the rung.  I fell and landed on my wrist.  It started swelling and it hurt REAL bad, so the orphanage director, Mr. Tompkins, put me in his car and took me to the emergency room. 

They took x-rays and the doctor said that it wasn’t broken, and was gonna give Mr. Tompkins a prescription to help with the pain, but the nurse kept saying that it wasn’t right that I was hurting so much just from a sprained wrist.”  Vin threw her a sideways look and seemed embarrassed as he admitted. “I was screaming pretty loud, but it really, really hurt.”

Maris hugged him again in sympathy, knowing from her experiences with Chris when he was a boy that even the smallest scrape could be agony if he had lost control over his sense of touch.

“Well,” the boy continued, “the nurse got the idea to do the Sentinel test on me and they found out that I was one.  The doctor almost had a heart attack right there, because he said the medicine he had given me would probably have killed me if I had taken it.”

“Sounds like you were very lucky,” Maris told him while trying not to imagine what could have happened to the little boy without the quick thinking nurse.

 “So that’s how I found out.  Mr. Tompkins, looked real funny when the nurse told him what the test result were and what the doctor said. Even with the medicine that they had finally given me for my wrist making me sleepy I could tell he smelled scared.   I guessed he was worried about what could of happened, too, but I was too sleepy to care about it anymore.  Then a week later those guys grabbed me and I wound up at Mr. Smith’s.”

“I have to say you are an amazing little boy to deal with all of that on your own,” Maris told him truthfully.  “I’m glad you’ve got Buck to help you now.”

“Not half as glad as I am,” Buck’s voice broke into their conversation.

Maris let go of Vin and turned with a start to look at the man leaning casually against the door frame watching them.  Vin, of course, wasn’t surprised since he had heard the man emerge from his room a few minutes ago and had known he was standing there listening to them.

“Mornin’, Buck,” Vin called out happily.

Buck walked over and hauled the boy up for a morning hug and kiss, unable to listen to the boy’s story without needing to hold the child so he could reassure himself that Vin really was alright and had made it through that rough period intact.  The man buried his face in the boy’s neck and drew in a deep breath to steady himself before pulling back and smiling at the watching boy.

“Good morning to you, too, Bubba,” he said infusing his voice with cheerfulness. Vin must not have been convinced because he began rubbing his hand up and down Buck’s back in a soothing motion and pushed his cheek against Buck’s in gesture meant to offer comfort. More warm touches were also being sent over their bond.

“Chris’ mom and I are making waffles for breakfast,” Vin said as a distraction.

“Well doesn’t that sound downright delicious,” Buck replied with a final hug before he set Vin back on his feet.  ““Morning, MT.  I see you were just as eager to meet the new additions to our family as my mom was.”

“How is Sharee?” Maris asked and picked up the mixer again to finish whipping the cream.

“Ma is fine.  She’s in the middle of a business deal right now that she can’t postpone or she’d be knocking on the door in an hour or so.  She’s coming to visit next week.  She’s chomping at the bit to get her hands on these two little ‘uns.  She was spitting mad about not being able to come right away.”

Maris laughed. “I can imagine.  I’ll have to call her and fill her in.”

Maris had met Sharee Wilmington more than twenty years ago when Buck had come to the Guild boarding school after having problems in regular school.  The rampaging hormones of puberty had sent the natural empathy of the emerging Guide careening out of control and driven him to distraction.  He had been in desperate need of Guild training but there had not been a Guild school close enough to his home to attend on a daily basis so Sharee had made the difficult decision to send Buck to one of the Guild’s boarding schools.  Due to a lack of space at the Guild school in his home state at the time, the closest available bed for him had turned out to be at the main Guild Hall, a thousand or so miles from his home in Nevada.

Chris, having problems with sensory spikes also due to puberty, had been sent to the school as a day student since his family lived in the area. Chris and Buck had met the first day of the semester and become instant friends.  The two fourteen year olds spent the next six months practically glued to each other during the day and after school.  There had been much speculation in the Guild at the time that the two Elites would wind up a bonded pair but they had fooled everyone, remaining friends only.

Buck had hated the dorms of the Guild School and spent all his time at Chris’ home.  After several frantic phone calls to Sharee from the School director when Buck didn’t make it back to the dorm for bed check, Maris and Steven had offered to let Buck live with them. Sharee had jumped at the idea and Buck had moved in the next day. 

For the next five years, Buck had stayed with the Larabees and been informally adopted by them as another son.  Buck looked on Maris as a second mother, and Steven had filled the father-role that had been empty for all Buck’s life.  Chris was the brother he never had.

Maris had kept Sharee up to date with her son’s doings with frequent phone calls and the women had come to be good friends.  The two families had shared vacations and school holidays together, Sharee staying with  the Larabees when she came to visit Buck during the school year, and the Larabees staying with her during school vacations where she showed them all a whooping-good time in her adopted home of Las Vegas.  When Chris and Buck finally decided to assert their independence and moved into their own apartment when they turned twenty, Maris had cried just as many tears for the loss of Buck as she had for Chris. 

Maris had given thanks to the Lord every night since Sarah and Adam’s tragic deaths for the big hearted soul that was Buck.  She knew it was Buck she had to thank for keeping Chris alive and sane.  Without him she would have lost her son as well as daughter in law and grandson in that explosion.  She didn’t think she could have lived with that. 

“I’m sure Mom would appreciate you giving her the low down,” Buck assured her with one of his patented grins.  “Just don’t rub it in too much that you already got to meet them.  I really don’t need the guilt trip that she’ll pull down on my head.”

Maris laughed and assured him, “I’ll be very sensitive, I promise.”

Buck hugged her in response. “What can I do to help?” he asked.

“Not a thing,” the confident woman refused lightly.  “Vin and I have it covered.  Why don’t you go help Chris and Steven in with the horses?  I’m sure they could use a hand.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Buck looked at her knowingly.  “You just want some alone time with my bondmate.  If you were a Guide I’d be jealous.”

“If I were a Guide you’d have reason to be,” she told him saucily then swatted at him with a towel.  “Go on.  Get some shoes on and go help Chris.  Breakfast should be ready in about half an hour.”

Buck threw his head back and laughed out loud.  “Yes ma’am,” he answered agreeably then looked at Vin, throwing impish sideways looks at Maris as he asked, “You sure you wouldn’t rather come feed the horses with me, Vin?  We could leave this woman’s work to the woman and head out to handle a real job.  You know, a man’s kind of job.”

“Buck Wilmington!” was Maris’ indignant squawk.  “How dare you try teaching that blatantly sexist garbage to this impressionable boy!  I ought to box your ears.  Or better yet, tell your mother what you just said.  I’m sure she could come up with a much better punishment!”

Buck put up both hands in front of him in surrender and tried to hang his head. The appearance of contrition was spoiled by the laughter that rolled out of him.  “I was only joking!  No need to pull out the big guns.  I didn’t mean a word of it.”

Maris harrumphed at him in pretend outrage and fought to keep her smile in check. “Get out of here, you scoundrel.  Go bother Steven for awhile.”

Still chuckling, Buck gave her a quick kiss then headed for his room to change and pull on his boots before heading for the barn.  He ruffled a grinning Vin’s hair as he passed.

“The man’s a complete rogue, but you gotta love him,” Maris sighed fondly after the departing man. 

Ezra still had not put in an appearance by the time the three men had returned from the barn.  Maris and Vin were just finishing up the last of the waffle batter and a huge platter of waffles was keeping warm in the oven.  When the other men had headed to the bathrooms to watch up, Chris had slipped into Ezra’s room to rouse him. After both had taken the time to wash up, they entered the kitchen to find the others already seated at the kitchen table waiting for them.

Ezra hung back shyly, pressed up against Chris’ leg, as all the eyes in the room turned toward him.

Feeling the child’s uncertainty, Chris went down on one knee beside him and wrapped an arm around the boy’s tense shoulders, pulling him against his side.

“Mom, Dad, this is Ezra.  Ezra this is my mother Maris Larabee, and my father Steven Larabee,” Chris introduced them proudly.

Ezra watched warily as the woman Chris had said was his mother pushed back her chair and walked toward them.  She knelt in front of Ezra and reached out to brush back a wisp of hair that was falling across his brow.  Her smile was gentle and kind.

Maris looked at the child staring back at her with guarded curiosity and felt emotion begin to build within her chest.  She wasn’t blind to the boy’s intelligent eyes and sweet face, but looking at Ezra she saw something even more precious to her than a child that needed to be loved and nurtured.  She saw her son’s second’s chance. 

“I’m so very glad to meet you, Ezra,” she said with a sincerity that was unrivaled in her life.

She fought ruthlessly to keep control of her emotions and not broadcast them to the child, using the techniques she had learned years ago to protect the young and extremely sensitive Buck when he had first come to live with them. From what Chris had told them, she knew Ezra had received no training as yet in how to protect himself in that regard and had to rely on whatever barriers he had formed naturally.   She had no intention of overloading the young empath with the intensity of her feelings.  She knew from her experience with Buck that the kind of strong emotions she was currently battling could hurt him as easily as a blow with her fist if she loosed them on him. 

“You’re just as special as Chris said you were,” she told him.  “Welcome to our family,” and the woman wrapped him up in a tender embrace that made his heart beat faster and feel bigger than it had only a moment before. 

No one had ever held him like that before, not even his new bondmate whose touches, although gentle, usually had a much more protective feeling attached to them.  It felt so strange that Ezra did not know how to react so he just stood stiffly in the woman’s embrace.  Maris did not let the lack of response discourage her, but continued to hug him.

Slowly, uncertainly, Ezra returned the hug.  They stood there and the child felt himself begin to relax as he realized it actually felt nice.  When he felt something wet on his cheek he pushed back and gazed at the woman’s face with confusion.   Tears were spilling from her eyes but her smile was bright and joyful.

“She’s just happy to have you here, Ez,” Chris said, reading the boy’s reaction across the bond.

“Then why is she crying?” Ezra asked in a trembling whisper.

“Sometimes,” Maris said with a watery chuckle, “when you’re really, really happy it builds up inside you until it has to find someway to get out to keep you from exploding.  That’s all this is.  I’m just really, really happy that you’re here and it’s leaking out a bit.”

“Oh,” Ezra replied watching her closely while he processed this. 

He cautiously dropped his mental barriers a little until he could read her emotions. It was surprising hard and he had to push against her mental walls a lot more that usual, but -- strangely enough from his point of view -- she really was happy to see him.  Ezra really didn’t know what to make of it, never having any past experiences to judge it by, but Chris seemed to think it was okay so Ezra decided just to trust in his Sentinel and accept it at face value.  For now.

“You gonna let someone else have crack at him?” another voice interrupted Ezra’s thinking.

The boy looked over to find a man that looked like an older version of Chris standing beside them.  The man bent over with an outstretched hand that he offered to Ezra.

“Welcome, Ezra.  Good to meet you, son.  I’m sure you’ll take great care of our boy,” the man’s deep rumble-ly voice flowed over the child and Ezra gave him a shyly proud smile.

“Yes sir!  I will.  I promise,” he replied with charmingly earnest sincerity and shook the man’s hand.

Steven nodded in approval and used his grip on Ezra’s hand to pull him from Maris’ arms for his own hug.

“Well those waffles won’t eat themselves,” Steven teased with a laughing grin as he set Ezra back.  “What say we dig in before it all gets cold?”

With much laughing and good natured teasing, the six people filled their plates with waffles and bacon, and scrambled eggs.  Maris poured milk into glasses for the boys, while Chris poured coffee into mugs for the adults.  Bowls of fruit topping were passed and argued over.  Buck not being willing to share the blueberries earned him a playful rap across the knuckles with a wooden spoon from Maris.

 Vin was having an obviously hard time deciding what fruit he wanted on his waffles.  Maris solved his dilemma by cutting his waffle into four pieces then placing a spoonful of blueberries on one piece, peaches on another, and strawberries on a third, leaving the last piece for maple syrup. She dropped a tiny dollop of whipped cream on each.

“There we go.  That’s what you call a sampler plate.  Now you don’t have to chose,” she told the eagerly watching child with motherly wisdom.

“Me too, please!” Ezra lost his shyness enough to demand when he saw Vin’s plate.  Maris had merely laughed with delight and complied happily.

Vin dug into the once familiar treat with solemn relish.  He forked up a bite of blueberry-topped waffle and let the tastes explode on his tongue in near rapture. The scent and taste blended together in a symphony of flavor in which he wallowed. 

He got so lost in the experience that he didn’t recognize the zone when it crept up on him.   One minute he was enjoying his waffles and the next he felt Buck’s hand on his back and heard Buck’s voice calling him back from a long distance.

“That’s it, Vin.  Come on back to me.  Almost there, just keep on coming.  There you are!” Buck said with relief as Vin turned to look at him with eyes that actually saw him again.

“What happened,” Vin asked, still a little disoriented from the zone. 

“I think you zoned on the taste of the waffles,” Buck said and pulled him over for a hug. 

“Oh,” the boy said with embarrassment.  “Uh...I’m sorry. 

“Not a thing to be sorry about,” Steven told him with an easy nonchalance that quickly put Vin at ease once again.  “We’ve all been around the Guild enough to have seen it countless times.  No big deal.”

“Been there, done that myself,” Chris assured him, too.  “No one is going to judge you for it, Vin.  It happens to all of us occasionally. That’s just part of what it means to be a Sentinel: sometimes you get lost.  That’s what you have Buck for.  He pulled you right out of the zone. 

Congratulations, by the way, on surviving your first zone as bondmates.”  Chris’ smile was warm with just a hint of teasing.

Buck laughed then set Vin back in his chair and handed him his fork. “This time, let’s try to use one of your other senses to keep you grounded while you eat.  Listen to my heartbeat and just let it run through the back of your mind.  That should keep you from focusing on your taste buds too much,” Buck instructed.

Vin nodded and did as he was told, easily picking out the sound of Buck’s pulse then pushing it back until it became a faint, but noticeable background noise.  He carefully took another bite of waffle and almost sighed in relief when he didn’t begin to zone again.

Buck, who had been monitoring him closely, smiled in encouragement and turned back to his own breakfast.  The conversation around the table resumed without any more being made of the small crisis. 

The time passed much too quickly for everyone.   The senior Larabees were thrilled to see their son relaxed and laughing, something that had not happened much in the last three years.  Buck and Vin were enjoying the company, the wonderful meal, and each other.  Ezra had finally relaxed enough around the older couple to ask and answer questions and everyone soon realized what an intelligent, savvy little boy he was.  Chris was just happy to be out of the dark pit that had been his life for three long years and able to enjoy anything at all. 

“Mrs. Larabee?” Ezra said looking at the woman curiously as he asked, “Why does Buck call you MT?”

Buck laughed and answered before Maris could.  “She’ll tell you it’s because her name is Maris Teresa, but that’s not really what it stands for,” he told the child while grinning at the woman who was now shaking her head in exasperation at the impish look on the dark haired man’s face, knowing from long experience that she was in for some of his teasing.  “It really stands for Mama Tiger.”

Ezra giggled at the byplay -- causing his bondmate to smile with enjoyment at the sound.  “Why Mama Tiger?” the child questioned.

“Well, Little Pard,” Buck said, leaning closer to the child as he answered confidingly, “To look at her you’d thing she was the sweetest, gentlest thing God ever put on the Earth, and most of the time that’s right, but you let somebody mess with one of her young’uns and they’ll find out pretty quick she’s got claws and she’s not afraid to use 'em.  Just like you don’t want to mess with an ole Mama Tiger, you don’t want to mess with MT when she’s protecting her young.”

Two pair of little eyes got round and stared at Maris with new interest. 

“Can we see ‘em?” Vin asked on an awed breath.

“Yes, please!” Ezra added his entreaty.  “Vin and I saw on the television at Mr. Smith’s house where a man had claws that came out his hands, but that was just a cartoon.  We didn’t know people had them for real.”

“Are they as long as that cartoon guy’s?” Vin asked with eager anticipation.  “His were out to about here.”  Vin demonstrated by holding one hand about a foot in front of his curled fist.

“Does it hurt when they come out?” Ezra wondered out loud.

“Can they cut through anything?” Vin fired.

Maris sighed while the men laughed at the boy’s excited questioning.  “You stop laughing this instant, Buck Wilmington.  You started this, now you fix it. You just remember, you rogue, that you’re not too big to get the back of your britches warmed by me!”  She brandished the same wooden spoon she had rapped his knuckles with earlier as a reminder and glared at him.

He probably would have taken the threat more seriously if the sides of her mouth had not been twitching as she tried to keep from smiling.

It took Buck several minutes to control his laughter enough to explain what he had meant and to convince the children that Chris’ mother did not actually have real, physical claws. Both boys looked a little disappointed when they finally accepted that fact.

The conversation turned to more mundane topics, but Maris would still occasionally shake her head and give Buck an amused glare while mumbling under her breath about the consequences of a allowing a little child to be brought up by an overgrown one.  He tried to assume a penitent look that he never quite pulled off, much to the Larabee men’s amusement. 

They all enjoyed the rowdy and laugh-filled breakfast, but eventually the time came when Chris had to call attention to the time and the waiting meetings.

“Do we have to go, Chris?”  Ezra begged with big, pleading eyes.  “Mr. and Mrs. Larabee just got here.  We’re just getting to know each other.  Can’t we stay here today and go to meetings tomorrow?  Mr. Larabee said that there’s a great horse trail in the woods.  We could go riding.”

Chris sighed remorsefully, wanting to give in to his Guide’s very first request of him, but knowing that starting the ball rolling in apprehending the villainous Mr. Smith and his cronies and keeping Ezra and Vin safe was more important than the boy’s wish to go riding.

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Chris said with sincere regret and reached out to stroke his hand down Ezra’s cheek.  “I promise we’ll go riding the first chance we get, but I’ve already called for the meeting and some people are having to fly in to attend.  I can’t just send them back and say, go away right now and I’ll call you later.  That wouldn’t be fair to them. 

Besides, we’ll be making plans to catch Mr. Smith so he can’t bother you and Vin, or anyone else again.  That’s pretty important don’t you think?”

Ezra gave a soft sigh of disappointment as he looked back at the man watching him and nodded.  “I guess it is.  It’s alright.  We can go later; whenever you want.”

Chris pulled him in for a hug and told him, “Thanks, Ezra.  I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?  There are times that Guild business has to come first, but it won’t always.  In spite of everything, you are my number one concern and I promise to try and remember that, and if I forget you have my permission to remind me.”  Chris smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair fondly as he put the child back into his chair at the table.

After that things moved quickly. Chris’ parents shooed them out the door, assuring their son that they would see to the cleaning of the kitchen and then lock up when they left.  Maris had made a point of kissing all four of them goodbye causing Ezra to feel a weird warmth in his chest that he had never felt before but felt kind of good, he eventually decided. 

“Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Larabee,” he told Chris’ mother with genuine appreciation.  “It was delicious.”

Maris, pleased at the compliment, smiled at her son’s bondmate and shook her head at him gently.  “I think it’s time to come up with something better to call us than Mr. and Mrs. Larabee.  You’re family now, you and Vin both.  Mrs. Larabee is much too formal for family.  How about calling me Grams?  And you can call my husband Gramps.  How does that sound?”

Chris froze as a shaft of pure pain plunged through his heart at hearing the names that his son Adam had used for his grandparents.  He slammed a wall down on the bond between him and Ezra.  He didn’t want the child exposed to the roiling emotion that was ripping at him so fiercely he felt he was about to come apart. 

It took a phenomenal amount of will to shove it all into a box in his mind and slam the lid on it so it was out of sight for not only Ezra but himself as well.  He forced himself to concentrate on the thoughts of the coming meetings and ignore the homey family scene as the children shyly agreed with his mother’s request. 

He just wasn’t ready to deal with it. 

&&&&< 10 > &&&&

The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim.
 -- Sun Tzu --



Larabee sat at the head of the conference table and listened as the Sentinel/Guide pairs lining its long sides talked and laughed with each other quietly as they waited for the last people that had been summoned to the meeting to arrive, and the meeting  to be called to order.   Chris watched like a silent statue from his position.

It felt strange to be sitting in this place with these people after three years of virtual seclusion.  It was almost enough to give him a case of claustrophobia.  He was no longer used to crowded rooms or noisy meetings.   It was a bit of a strain to maintain control of his hearing with the buzz of voices continually bombarding his sensitive ear drums, and the scent of so many bodies packed into one closed place assaulting his nose despite the room’s sound dampeners and air filters. 

Chris felt a warm hand grasp his arm and looked down to see Ezra standing at his side and looking up at him in concern.  Chris covered the little hand with his bigger one and smiled to reassure the child that he was fine.   He was a little amazed that the boy had managed to pick up on his slight distress.  He knew he had not been projecting so Ezra could not have picked it up from their bond.  It just went to prove how strong an empath Ezra was.  Stronger than Sarah ever was he reflected before clamping down on the thought and pushing it away, feeling disloyal to his first Guide.

Chris turned his attention back to the people around the table.  He knew most of the faces.  He wondered what changes time had wrought in their lives since he had seen them last.  It shamed him, in a way, that he was so completely out of touch.   It was a testament to just how badly he had failed to live up to the trust his people had placed in him.  He had sworn to lead them, protect them, and he didn’t even know them anymore.  What kind of leader was a stranger to his own people?   Chris sighed as he answered his own question: a bad one.  But that would change.  Starting now.
 
The door to the conference room opened and the final two participants entered and slipped into the only two empty chairs at the table with quick apologies for their tardiness that Chris accepted with a silent nod.   He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before he began to speak.  The room instantly grew quiet.

“First, let me thank you for coming today,” he said making eye contact with each participant.  “I know it was inconvenient for many of you to travel so far with such little notice, but the things that we have to discuss today are too important to put off for the sake of convenience.

Secondly, I’m sure you have already seen the notices that were posted yesterday so you are aware of the addition of two new members to the Guild.  Let me introduce you to Sentinel Elite Vin Tanner, bondmate of Guide Elite Buck Wilmington, and my own bondmate, Guide Elite Ezra Standish.”

Chairs were shoved back as the entire gathering stood and began applauding the newly bonded pairs.  One giant of a man gestured and the room fell silent as he began to speak.

“As Senior Alpha Sentinel,” the man said with a solemn self-importance that made Chris want to roll his eyes, “I have the most pleasant duty of welcoming these two rarest of the rare to our ranks. I hope you will serve the Guild with as much dedication and loyalty as your bondmates have demonstrated in the past.   It is a fine, and noble tradition that you are now foresworn to uphold.  Many have given their lives holding true to the precepts that...”

Chris tried to keep his face a blank mask while he tuned out the old Alpha who rambled on.   Now he remembered why he preferred to run things from his house, he told himself with an inner grimace.   He settled back in his chair, knowing from past experience that the man currently pontificating on the glorious history of the Guild could continue his stream of babble indefinitely. 

Larabee really wanted to shout at the man that they didn’t have time for his pompousness because they had serious issues to discuss, but he had been Guild Master too long not to realize the foolishness of the action.   Even in this last bastion of primal superiority, politics raised its ugly head and roared its defiance.

Chester Halston, Senior Alpha Sentinel, had been Head of the Circle of Alpha’s since Chris had taken over as head of the Guild.  Chris had, in fact, replaced him as Guild Master in a Challenge Battle that had lasted a grand total of fourteen minutes -- something for which Larabee was sure Halston was never truly going to forgive him. 

Chris wondered sometime if the man’s long winded speeches were caused by loving the sound of his own voice, or merely his way of taking subtle revenge on the Sentinel Elite for trouncing him so quickly by slowing driving the Elite completely round the bend with his blather.  If it was the latter, then Chris had to admit it was working.

Chris felt Ezra touch his arm as the child leaned his weight against the side of Chris’ chair.  The boy was staring with a look of polite interest on his face at the man that continued to spew words in a seemingly endless stream, but if anyone had looked closer at the child they would have seen his eyes were becoming glazed and the boy was broadcasting an intense boredom clearly through their bond.  

Chris flicked his eyes to his other side where Buck was seated, pushed back from the table and holding the fidgeting Vin in his lap.  The Guide was obviously biting his lip to hold back whatever smart remark was dying to make its way out. 

Chris couldn’t decide if he wanted Wilmington to keep holding his tongue or let it go.  Dealing with the fallout of Halston’s outrage at being interrupted so disrespectfully would almost be worth it, but the truth was the old Alpha was a strong ally when it came to keeping the Circle of Alpha’s in line.  It paid to keep the man’s good will so Chris clenched his jaw a little tighter and prepared to stretch his patience to its limits and wait him out. 

Ezra leaned against him a little heavier and Chris reached over and hauled the child into his lap.  Ezra wiggled a moment until he got comfortable then lay still again, and Chris wrapped his arms around him.  

What Chris wouldn’t give for a good Spirit vision at the moment even thought the dream plane was usually the last place he wanted to wind up.  Hell, he’d even settle for a fire drill.    Anything to escape the endless droning.

Ezra, meanwhile, felt like he was about to drop into a deep pit of pure ennui, and still the rotund old man continued to inflict the gathering with his pomposity with no sign of stopping anytime soon.  Somehow this was not what he had thought a meeting at the Sentinel and Guides Guild would have been like. It was something of a disappointment.

Ezra looked at the man now expounding on his own experiences as a young Sentinel in the Navy and concentrated his whole attention on wishing the man would just shut up.

Chris was startled to feel a prickling through his connection with Ezra which he had never encountered before; like a building of static electricity.  He did not know quite how to explain it, but it did not feel so much like something being directed by Ezra through the bond as something that was spilling over into it.

The feeling grew and grew until suddenly, like a bubble that had burst, it was gone and the bond settled down as though nothing untoward had happened.  Chris flashed a look down at Ezra in concern but the boy appeared perfectly normal and did not seem to be in any kind of distress.   Chris was completely baffled.

He was distracted from the puzzle when all at once the Senior Alpha Sentinel stopped his speech in mid-sentence and looked lost for a moment before saying, “Umm...but...umm... I’m...umm... I’m sure that’s not why we’ve all met here today so...umm... I’ll just turn the meeting back over to your illustrious Guild Master,” and dropped into his chair with a thud. 

He sat looking a bit dazed for a moment and his Guide was there stroking his arm and whispering in to him Sentinel-softly. He seemed to pull himself together and looked toward the head of the table at Chris who could not help gawking at him in surprise for a moment before hastily reassuming control of the meeting after quickly thanking the Alpha. 

Pushing the oddities of the last few seconds from his head for the time being, Chris turned his thoughts to the reasons for ordering these people to attend him in the first place, and felt his anger begin to spark again.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he said, looking around at the curious faces staring back at him, and tightened his arms protectively around the child in his lap.  “You have been introduced to Ezra and Vin.  Buck and I met them two nights ago when they were forced to take shelter in barn about a mile from my home to escape the bad weather.   They were running from a man that was intent on exploiting them for his own purposes. He had Vin kidnapped, and paid a large sum of money to secure Ezra for himself. The man seemed to think he had found a chemical way to force them to bond.”

Chris had to break off after dropping that bombshell as the angry rumbles that had been growing as he spoke became one big roar of rage that erupted from every Sentinel in the room.  The next few minutes were spent with Guides busy trying to calm their Sentinels, a task made harder by the Guides’ own anger.

When relative calm had been achieved once more, Chris continued with restrained fury.  “I see that thought makes you as angry as it makes me.  Good.  Because I want him found. 

I want everyone that helped him rounded up.  I want everyone that had any idea of what he was doing rooted out.  I want them all punished and made into an examples of what happens when anyone tries to abuse a Sentinel or a Guide.

Then I want the chemists who dared to even TRY to make a drug that would interfere with the natural bonding process stripped of their licenses and jailed.  If it isn’t already against the law to manufacture such a drug them I want it made one. I want any records of such research confiscated and any of the drug that may already be in existence to be destroyed.

And lastly, I want to know how Vin and Ezra came to be targeted.  This man didn’t just grab any two children off the street.  He knew who and what they were beforehand.  There’s a leak somewhere.  It needs to be found...and plugged.” 

Chris turned to the dozen Sentinel/Guides pairs on the left side of the table and spoke directly to them.  “You were called here today because you are the best tracker and investigative pairs that we have.  You all have reputations of being unsurpassed at what you do.  It’s time to live up those reputations.

I know you were all working under contracts to various agencies, but the Guild is exercising its right to recall you in an emergency.  Other teams will be sent in to take your place until this is resolved.  If your current employers don’t like it, then they can take it up with me.” 

The look in his eyes suggested he would relish the opportunity to squelch any opposition from that quarter.

“This is your number one priority until I say differently,” he continued.  “Alpha Sentinel Williams will be in charge of the investigation.  Pull whatever or whoever you need to make it happen, Paul. You’ll answer only to me, and I expect you to keep me informed.”

A middle aged man with sharp, intelligent eyes nodded at the Sentinel Elite as he accepted the assignment as leader of the Guild Master’s task force.

Larabee nodded to a Delta Guide secretary hovering in the background.  At his signal the woman walked around the table laying folders in front of the hunting pairs Larabee was currently addressing.

“In the folders you’ll find all the information we have so far. Ezra and Vin will be available to answer your questions this afternoon.  After that, any question you might need answered you’ll refer to me or Buck. 

Let me make this absolutely clear to you.  As important as finding these people are, Ezra and Vin are the victims here, and I won’t have them sacrificed in the name of justice.  Their wellbeing takes precedence over everything, so watch yourselves in your dealings with both of them.  I’ll only give you one warning!”

Even the staunchest, bravest Sentinel present couldn’t help the shiver that made its way up the spine at the look on the Elite’s face.

Chris continued the briefing with, “Delta Guide Sorenson will provide admin support for this task force.  She has arranged office space for your group, and reserved rooms in the dormitory for your use while you are here.  If you need it, it’s her job to get it for you.  Don’t hesitate to make use of her services. Your sole focus should be on the investigation. Take the rest of this morning to get settled in and study the material.  I’ll send word when Ezra and Vin are ready for you this afternoon.”

Chris’ smile was feral as he looked down the table and said, “They dared to try enslaving two of our own, ladies and gentlemen.”  He paused to exchange gazes with each of the Sentinels and Guides investigators seated before him and each returned his gaze with a steely, determined one of his or her own. “Make them pay for it!”  He finished in a voice as sharp and deadly as a razor. 

“Dismissed,” he snapped out with military crispness.

The twenty four people rose as one and headed with savage resolve for the conference room door, impatient to begin hunting down the people responsible for endangering The Elite children.   The ten remaining Guild members watched the pairs go, silently wishing them luck on their hunt and wondering what the enraged Sentinel Elite had in mind for the rest of them.

Chris had to stop and take a deep breath.  Ezra was sitting in his lap stiffly and both his hands were clenching Chris’ forearms.  The boy was giving little panting breaths as he exerted himself  by instinctively trying to absorb Larabee’s anger into himself and defuse it.  Ezra was strong and he was really doing a good job of it considering he was completely untrained, but Chris did not want the child to injure or exhaust himself trying to do something he was not prepared to deal with yet.  So the Elite forced himself to try to calm down and let some of his anger drain away.

He was only partially successful when he turned his attention to the remaining group members.

“There are Sentinel and Guide children out there that are not showing up in our testing.  How many of those children are suffering needlessly as they come into their gifts due to ignorance?  How many will be lost permanently because they didn’t get the help they needed in time for it to make a difference?  How many more are being exploited because no one is there to stand up for them? 

These are our people. OUR people! We’re supposed to protect them.  They’re the reason the Guild even exists.

For whatever reason it might occur, losing even ONE Sentinel or Guide is unacceptable, but -- if not for their own quick thinking and determination -- we almost lost TWO, and not just any Sentinel or Guide but ELITES.”  Chris was so angry that he unwound his left arm from Ezra and he pounded his tightly clenched fist on the table to punctuate the word.  “That’s more than unacceptable.  It’s criminal!”

Ezra jumped and paled as Chris lost control and hit the table.  Buck immediately reached across the table toward Larabee and firmly gestured for Chris to release Ezra and let him go to Buck.  Reluctantly, Larabee stood long enough to place Ezra in Buck’s lap, knowing that for the time being the child was better off being away from him when his emotions were so volatile and at least Buck could help shield the child.   

Chris stepped back and resumed his seat at the head of the table. Surrendering Ezra to another, even Buck, did not sooth his temper any, but actually fanned it and set it to burning hotter.  

He looked around at the remaining attendees as he said, “It isn’t my intention to point fingers at any one person or group, or to assign blame.   The truth is every one of us has to share that blame equally.  We have all been derelict in our duty to this Guild, myself included. We’ve grown complacent with the status quo and there are innocents out there paying the price for our lack of attention.

IT STOPS NOW. 

As the first step in getting things back on track, I am initiating a full review of the Guild’s testing and reporting procedures.  I would say it is obvious that there is a major flaw in the system somewhere.  I want it found and corrected.

If it’s too antiquated, modernize it.  If it’s too unmanageable, streamline it.  If there are cracks in the system, fill them.  Overhaul the whole system -- scrap it and start over if necessary.  Whatever it takes, I want it done.  We. Are. Not. Losing. One. More. Child.” 

Chris’ glare could have ignited steel as he enunciated each word with all the savage, untamed power of a Sentinel Elite.  Every lesser ranked Sentinel and Guide in the room responded to that power and instinctively bowed their heads in submission, not making eye contact that could be taken as a challenge.   Only the other Elites remained somewhat composed in a room whose walls were almost quivering with the tension being produced by the other occupants.

Larabee turned his head to look at the Senior Alpha Sentinel and said with a quieter, if still dominant tone, “Chester, I would like you to work with Carl on this. He’s the best one to evaluate the registration procedures but I’d like you to work from the testing end. 

I would also like you to act as liaison to the ranking Alphas who will work with their own government leaders around the world should it become necessary to gain government cooperation to implement any new procedures that may be decided on after the review.”

Halston straightened and stared back at him seriously.  The man might develop diarrhea of the mouth sometimes, but Chris knew he could be trusted to get results when it counted.

“Consider it done,” the Alpha stated with brusque decisiveness, all trace of the pompous windbag of a few minutes ago was gone, replaced by the capable leader that had kept the man at the head of the Circle of Alphas for so long.

“Let’s start by having Carl re-familiarize us all with the current procedures,” Chris stated and sat back in his chair.

Sparing a glance to check on Ezra, he was relieved to see the color back in the boy’s checks and looking recovered.    He forced himself to turn back to the meeting as the older man began his presentation. 

It would be several weeks if not months before the needed reforms could be identified and put into place, but this meeting marked the first step in this marathon for change and Chris was determined that in the end they would all come out winners.

It wasn’t until much later, as he lay in bed staring at the darkened ceiling and waiting for sleep to come, that Chris remembered the strange feeling he had gotten from Ezra during the meeting and wondered.

 

&&&&&

Reports of the meeting spread through the Guild Hall like wildfire. Change was a living presence in the Guild Hall. Things were now in motion to make long needed reforms. The hunters had been loosed on their prey.  The man who had withdrawn to the shadows to lick his wounds for the last three years was reaching out toward the light once again.   

With the Guild Master back at the helm, new energy seemed to flow in the very air, infusing the Sentinels and Guides with a new sense of purpose.   Steps were lighter. Outlooks were brighter. Problems, no matter how big or how small, seemed surmountable.  All the members of the Guild rejoiced to have their leader back.

All, that is, but one who watched it all from the shadows and cursed.
 

&&&&< 11 > &&&&

Whatever is capable of suggesting and guiding action has power over us from the first. -- Charles Horton Cooley



The early morning sun shining through the curtains on his window did little to diffuse the light that struck the back of his eyelids with a brightness that was almost a physical force.  At the same time the soft cry of a calling bird in the tree outside his window took on the same strident volume of a steam whistle as it assaulted his ear drums. 

He couldn’t help the pain-filled groan that burst from his lips as he slapped both hands over his ears and clinched his eyes shut.  He tried to bury his face into his pillow to block out the overly bright light, but found it felt as through he was screwing his face into a piece of sandpaper while the overly floral scent of the normally innocuous fabric softener used on the pillow case was so overpowering it made him gag. 

Chris Larabee’s senses were spiking out of his control. 

It had not happened to him in such a long time that he was unprepared for the attack.  The damper drugs he had been taking for the last three years had dulled his senses enough so that it had never been a problem, but he had stopped taking them two days ago when he and Ezra had bonded.  Obviously the drugs had metabolized out of his system and left him vulnerable again.

Following an impulse as old as mankind, Chris half-fell out of bed -- only his above-normal reflexes keeping him from sprawling face first on the floor -- and he headed toward the door.  He blindly stumbled his way down the hall to the bedroom next to his, all the while tearing off the tee shirt he had used as sleepwear that now felt as it were made of wire bristles instead of soft cotton.  This did him little good because the very air flowing around him became an assault to over-sensitized skin. His stomach rolled with nausea from the riot of smells bombarding him, as well as the ghastly taste of his own mouth. The sound of his own footsteps, even though muffled by the carpet, pounded at him louder than a hundred thunderstorms as he made his way along the hall.  He was gritting his teeth to hold back the hiss of pain when he had to grasp the knob to open the door to Ezra’s bedroom.  

God, he couldn’t remember ever spiking this badly before!

With the single-mindedness of a Patriot missile homing in on a target, the suffering Sentinel staggered toward the bed where his Guide lay sleeping peacefully.  The familiar sunshine-fresh, piquant scent that was uniquely his Guide’s acted like a beacon guiding him to the one person that could help ease his torment.  Larabee fell on the bed, an uncharacteristic whimper escaping him as his ears were painfully assaulted by the deafening sound of a dewdrop falling from the roof and hitting the sill of Ezra’s window. 

The heavy jostling of the bed, when Chris fell on the mattress beside him, woke Ezra with a start.  The child looked around in frightened confusion for a moment until awareness returned to him in a rush-- the large body lying in a semi-fetal position beside him spurring him to full consciousness.

“Chris!” the child screamed only to have the man cringe from the noise and draw even tighter into himself.  

Ezra’s heart began to race as he realized that something was wrong with his Sentinel and it was up to him to fix it.   The scared little boy began to draw in rapid, trembling breaths as he tried to remember what he should do, but his fear kept interfering and his brain just did not seem to want to supply an answer.  Chris moaned and the young Guide knew he had to do something.  Chris was counting on him.   The little boy squared his shoulders with determination and tried to be brave.

He was too frightened to remember everything Buck had tried to tell him in the one informal lesson he had with his Training Guide so far, and he desperately wracked his brain to recall what Buck had done the other morning to bring Vin out of his zone, hoping to gain a clue as to how he should proceed now. 

“Think, Ezra!  Think!” he mumbled to himself harshly.

Slowly, bits and pieces of Buck’s instructions began returning.  Lowering his voice to a mere whisper, Ezra began talking to the Sentinel while his hand hovered but did not make contact with Larabee’s bare shoulder knowing -- without knowing how he knew -- that he would hurt his Sentinel if he touched him right now. 

 “Okay, Chris, Buck told me you imagine slider switches in your head to take control of your senses. You need to bring them down.   I want you to start with the one for...for,” Ezra stuttered as he tried to decide which sense he should work on first. 

Finally deciding that doing anything was better than nothing at all, he continued, “Start with your hearing.  Slide the switch down. Bring it down slowly until things sound okay again.  You know what my heart beat should sound like, so use it to bring your hearing down until it sounds normal.”

Automatically, Chris did as his Guide instructed, imagining the slide in his head that controlled his hearing and pushing it down further and further. The cacophony assaulting his ears painfully began to decrease as he obeyed and he could have cried in relief.

It would have been impossible for anyone watching to notice anything different, but Ezra could feel a lightening in the input coming across the bond that let him know that Chris was responding.  That gave him a bit of badly needed encouragement.

“Work on your sight next,” Ezra told him with his voice sounding calmer and more in control as his confidence grew with the first bit success under his belt. “How high is it set right now?”

“About a twenty five,” Chris mumbled in answer.

“Okay,” Ezra said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Slide it down until it’s at four or five.  That should make it much easier to see.”

He was rewarded a couple of minutes later by Chris opening his eyes and looking at him.  The pain still radiating from the blue orbs reached the little boy on a level that had never been touched by anyone else before.  Ezra had to help relieve that suffering.  He HAD to.  His need to take care of the Sentinel was overpowering.

“Bring down your sense of touch, next,” Ezra ordered, his own need to be able to make contact with his Sentinel and offer comfort motivating him to have Chris normalize this sense next.

As Larabee brought each sense back under control, the stress in muscles tensed almost to the breaking point relaxed bit by bit.  The voice of his Guide was like a lamp guiding his way back to normality.   When he could stand to feel anything on his skin again, he grabbed onto Ezra’s hand and brought it to his chest, cradling it like the most precious of objects.

Ezra indulged his own need to touch by using the hand Chris was not holding to stroke along the man’s shoulders, drawing and giving comfort in equal measures.

“You’re doing great,” Ezra encouraged softly, “You’re almost there.  Just bring down your sense of smell until it’s bearable, then do the same for taste.”

With his other senses back under control, Chris found it relatively easy to stop his remaining two senses from spiking.  The Sentinel drooped against the child’s side, completely worn out by the trauma of the unexpected ordeal.  Ezra continued to whisper support and give consoling pats as the man lapsed into an exhausted doze.

“You done good, kid.” 

Buck’s quietly approving voice surprised the child whose head immediately shot up and arms instinctively tightened protectively around the recovering Sentinel.

The lanky Guide was leaning against the doorframe watching the pair on the bed.  His casual pose hid the attentiveness that he had focused on the room’s occupants as Ezra had worked to bring Chris’ senses back in line, anxious for both his old friend and his new student.

“You’re a natural, Ez,” Buck told him, deliberately giving the child praise because he knew the little person that had just aced his first test as a Guide was still just a little boy and had to be frightened and unsure of himself. 

Ezra hung his head, hiding his eyes from the man watching him as he admitted as though ashamed, “I was scared.”

Not wanting to disturb Larabee, Buck motioned for Ezra to follow him.  The boy carefully disengaged himself from the sleeping Sentinel and walked from the room after the older Guide.

Ezra found Buck waiting for him in the den, the man slouched comfortably on the couch.  Buck patted the cushion beside him in invitation and Ezra obediently climbed up and sat stiffly. 

Buck reached over and hauled the boy against his side in a gentle hug.  Ezra resisted it for a moment then relaxed and slumped against the man, turning his face into the man’s chest and throwing an arm around his waist as he held on tight as he accepted the comfort the big man was offering.

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” Buck asked softly.  “Having someone depend on you like that.  Knowing that you’re the only one that can make their world right again.”

“Yes!” Ezra’s muffled voice replied with fervor.  Then he confessed with obvious distress, “I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do first!”

“Ezra, look at me,” Buck said while he gently pulled the little face from its hiding place and forced the boy to look at him.  “When it comes to you and your Sentinel, there is no first or last; no right or wrong way to go about things.  Every pairing is different.  Every situation is different.  A good Guide reads the situation, adapts his strategy, and does what needs to be done in the best way that he can.”

Ezra sat listening silently, hardly daring to believe that Buck did not think he had messed up.   

“That’s what you did. Ezra, this morning you handled everything just the way you should have,” Buck assured him.  “I wasn’t joking when I said you were a natural.  You led Chris back to normal faster than I’ve ever seen him manage before.  That’s a major accomplishment.  It’s something to be proud of.”

Buck punctuated his words with a big hug and an approving smile.

Blue eyes bored into green with absolute honesty as Buck continued. “You know, as a Guild trainer, it’s my job to help you find ways of doing things that you might not have thought of yourself; to show you a different way of looking at things than you might normally.  I try to give you different tools that you can adapt for your needs. The key word in that sentence is adapt.  The one thing I won’t ever do is tell you that you have to do something only one way, or that you can’t do something that feels right to you.

I’ve been doing this job for a lot of years, and most people see me as something of an expert on caring for Sentinels, but when it comes to taking care of YOUR Sentinel, YOU are the only true authority.  You are the one with the bond to him, Ezra.  You are the one who is able to sense his reactions and emotions on the deepest levels. You are the one who will be able to tell when something is or isn’t working for him long before anyone else would.  My best advice to you is to listen to your bond.

And your own instincts. They won’t steer you wrong.  Remember, you were literally born to do this, son.  The skills you need are hard-wired into you.”   Buck punctuated his words by tapping a finger lightly against Ezra’s temple. “Don’t ever be afraid to use ‘em.”

“So why did you tell me you would be giving me lessons for the next year or so if I already have the bond and my instincts?”  Ezra asked in confusion.

Buck chuckled.  “Well, although you were born knowing what you need to get by, centuries of our ancestor Guides have fine-tuned those basics skills; kind of refined them.   There are things I can teach you to make your life and Chris’, easier.  It’s like... umm...well... like you know you can get your clothes clean by beating them on a rock beside a stream, but it takes a lot less time and energy to use a washing machine to do it, you know what I men?”  Buck tilted his head to one side as he looked down at the boy.  He could see Ezra mulling over this carefully. 

Ezra nodded slowly and answered, “Yes, I think I do.”   

Buck smiled in approval of his reply and continued, “And while you’re the expert in handling Chris, you need to learn how to handle yourself.  That will also be a large part of the lessons we’ll be having together.”

Ezra stared at him in great confusion.  “Handle myself?  I don’t understand.”

Buck wrapped an arm around the lad’s neck and tightened it playfully. “Well for one thing, you need to learn some control over your own physical reactions when you feel emotional, Pard.  I’ll be teaching you various relaxation techniques to help you with that.”

Ezra’s expression went from confused to skeptical.  “Why would I need to do that?”

“Because a bonded Sentinel is always subliminally aware of his Guide’s respiration and pulse,” Buck explained with gentle patience.  “When the Guide’s breathing and heartbeat speed up it can be interpreted as a fear response and trigger the Sentinel’s defensive instinct—what most people call Blessed Protector Mode. That’s why it’s so important to know how to calm yourself and to remain in control during stressful moments, so you don’t push your Sentinel over that edge.  

Also, your Sentinel will often unconsciously fall into the same breathing pattern as you, his Guide.  Sometimes you can keep your Sentinel calm just by slowing your own breathing and heart rate down.  Trust me, Ez, it’s a skill that can come in very handy on occasion!  The techniques we’ll cover in your lessons will help you learn to do that.”

“And that will help me help Chris?” Ezra questioned thoughtfully.

“Yep,” Buck assured him. “And...”  Buck looked over his shoulder stealthily before lowering his voice and leaning closer to the boy so he could tell him softly, “one of the other things we’ll be working on is how to build up your mental barriers.  I wouldn’t tell, Chris about that one right away, though.”

Ezra automatically whispered back. “Why wouldn’t I tell him?  Would he be mad?”

Buck shook his head and replied with a chuckle, “Not at you, but probably at me for teaching you how! You’ll, no doubt, learn for yourself soon enough that Sentinels can be incredible control freaks at times.  The thought of their Guide being able to block them out so they can’t tell over the bond exactly what shape their Guide is in takes away from their sense of control.  That tends to make them...irritated.”  Buck’s tone was one of ironic understatement as he voiced the word. 

“Chris is probably enjoying the fact that you’re wide open to him.  He’s not going to look kindly on me for teaching you how to stop that, but it’s important that you learn how for a lot of the same reasons that you need to learn the relaxation techniques. 

It’s also important because, God willing, you and Chris will be together for the rest of your lives.   As in any long term relationship, you need to have some sense of privacy and some personal space to keep from getting sick of each other.”

Buck laughed as Ezra looked at him doubtfully, as if trying to imagine how he could possibly think the boy would ever get sick of being with Chris.  “I know you don’t believe that now.  Just remember this moment for when you have been with Larabee for five or ten years and see if you still feel that way.” 

Buck ruffled the chestnut curls of the boy.  “Anyway, it never pays to let the Sentinel be totally in charge of your pairing.  It’s a recipe for disaster.  In spite of what those overprotective Sentinels might try to tell you -- or each other -- you are supposed to be a team; to be equals.  Right now you’re at a disadvantage because: one, you are a child and Chris is an adult; and , two, because he can build that kind of barrier and you can’t.  Only time will take care of the first problem, but Ole Buck can help you with the second.  We’ll see if we can’t level the playing field a bit.”

Ezra’s face was starting to look smug at that thought when something else suddenly occurred to him and he frowned.  “Chris knows how to build these barriers? He can shut me out?”

Buck hesitated as he felt the yawning pit open in front of him.  He knew his old friend well enough to have no doubt that Chris had been blocking big time. It was just part of who the guy was and after knowing the man for years Buck would have been surprised to find out he had not been keeping some things from the little Guide.  Ezra, on the other hand, was still pretty much an unknown quantity to him.  Buck couldn’t predict how he would react at finding out that the bond he had formed with Larabee might not be the model of sharing and openness that he might have believed it to be.   Buck sensed disaster looming.

Buck picked his words carefully, but tried to sound casual as he said, “Remember, I told you that we all need some private space.  Chris knows that from his first bonding.”

Ezra went still and then looked at Buck with wide, stricken eyes.  “First bonding?”

The empathic Buck could easily feel the confusion, disappointment, and hurt that flooded the child, and suddenly realized that by trying to escape from one patch of emotional quicksand he had stumbled into a much deeper one, and was up to his neck this time.   He had assumed, mistakenly it seemed, that Chris would have at least talked to Ezra about that part of his past.   The usually loquacious Wilmington suddenly found his glib tongue had deserted him.  He knew he was copping out when he answered, “That’s something that you need to talk to Chris about.” 

“But he had a Guide before?” Ezra persisted.

Buck shook his head and gave his refusal firmly, “Talk to Chris.”

Ezra subsided, but Buck could still feel the turmoil in the little boy.

“Talk to me about what?” 

Buck looked over his shoulder with a combination of relief and mortification to find a yawning Larabee standing in the doorway absently scratching at an itch on his bare chest.  Buck decided the situation called for a strategic retreat before his old friend woke up enough to pay attention to what Ezra had to be broadcasting across their bond.

“I...uh... I need to go check on Vin and then go start breakfast,” Buck hastily said and he almost leapt from the sofa.  He rushed out of the den as though he was on fire.

Chris stared after his fleeing – there was no other word for it – friend in confusion for a moment before returning his attention to his Guide.  He started into the room then came to an abrupt stop as the emotions the child was projecting over their bond caught his attention like a smack to the head.  Ezra’s face was a blank mask that gave away nothing that he was feeling as he watched his Sentinel enter the den, but those green eyes were shimmering and the bond was pulsing with hurt and anger, and what Chris interpreted as a wounded pride.

“Ez?” he questioned, perplexed at the possible reason that the child would be so upset.  “What’s wrong?”

The little boy stared at him silently for an instant then answered heatedly, “You lied to me!”

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