The four of them exited the plane, to a lot of now happy people, at the airport in Cascade. [Not our fault they didn't like our stories,] Mena sent Simon.

[Grumpy peoples] Simon sent back. He grabbed the back of Blair's shirt, not wanting to get lost. Mena took her customary place at Jim's side, holding his hand.

Blair was patting around in his vest, looking for something as they got into the customs line.

"Please don't tell me we left the passports back in Peru."

"No, we didn't." Blair opened his bag. "Ha, here they are."

"Okay, Chief, just as long as we didn't lose them." Jim looked down at the child pulling on his pants leg. "Yes, Mena?"

"Gotta go," she whined, hopping up and down.

"Can you wait for a minute? We're almost through here, and all the bathrooms are on the other side."

"No. Please?" Her whining had reached a new level of annoyance, and a guard on the other side of the customs booth offered to take her for them. She agreed and went with her, without looking back at her father's for permission.

"Mena, behave yourself," Blair yelled after her. "Next time, Jim, make her ask for permission before going off with a stranger. Please?"

"Of course. After all, she is *your* daughter, oh, often kidnapped one." Jim was joking because he was tired, but Blair laughed just the same. Simon looked up at them and scowled.

"Dads! Not play now. No more funny looks!" Simon stomped off to sit beside the baggage x- ray.

They let him sulk until they were checked through, then gathered him up and crossed out of customs to find Mena drinking a soda and telling a story about the village to the guard. Jim just shook his head and laughed. //So much like Blair. She could make friends with anyone.// "Mena, where did you get the soda? And did we say 'Thank You' to the nice lady?"

"Yes sir, she buy it." She smiled up at him, knowingly manipulating her Daddy Jim. "I share with brother" she offered.

"Yes, you will." Blair turned to the guard. "Thank you for helping us with her little problem."

"Oh, not a problem at all. I have two of my own who do the same thing every time we fly. 'Sides, she's cute." The woman couldn't miss the look Jim sent Blair at the compliment, a hot 'I told you so, and so are you' look. "I think you must be the father, though, she has your hair."

Blair laughed, but Jim stepped in, "And his personality too. Thanks."

Mena reached over and took Jim's hand as she looked over at her pouting brother. [Some?]

He came over and she handed him the cup, letting him hold it for now. He took Blair's hand and they waved at the nice lady and moved towards the entrance. [Happy. More?] he sent Mena.

[No. Beg go uncle Simon 'night.] "Daddy, we see Unclie Simon?"

"Please Daddy?"

"Yes, okay, we'll get my car out of the garage, and go see if he's home. Okay?"

"Yes! Tell him about village." Simon brightened up at the thought of telling his favorite person, well outside of his fathers and sister, about what he had done and the games the other kids had taught him.

Jim steered Mena to a bank of phones, and called Simon's house to make sure he was there. They talked for a minute, then Jim hung up. He picked up Mena and caught up with Blair. "He's home and Darryl's there. He said 'come on over'. Apparently, he misses little Simon."

"Good. Tell him story."

"He said he couldn't wait to hear it. So, where are you parked? Egypt or China?" It was a long standing joke about how far away Blair always had to park from anything.

"Somewhere around the Middle East." They headed out to the garage, taking the elevator up to the third floor. They walked over to the Subaru, and buckled the kids into their seats, Jim taking the soda away and finishing it. The guys got in, and they headed towards the highway and Simon's house.


"Okay, guys, we're here. You can quit singing now," Jim yelled back, over top of the latest song.

"We still in car," Simon pointed out. Blair laughed as Jim hurried to get them undone before they could start singing again.

"Come on you two," Simon yelled from the door. "We have cookies and milk laid out for you."

The twins looked at each other. "Cookies!" They ran into the house, leaving the adults to stand on the steps, looking at each other.

"Better?" Big Simon asked.


"Are you better now? Since you went down. Did whatever was supposed to happen, happen?"

"Simon, how..."

"I *was* a Detective for a number of years. Besides, you both look more at ease." He led them inside, into the living room. "I just noticed that you two were walking around each other for the last few days before you left."

"Yeah. Most everything happened that was supposed to." Blair leaned back on the couch. He was so tired, first all the traveling, then the kids trying to talk to everyone on the plane. Now he just needed a nap.

"Yeah, something happened." Jim looked over at Blair. //My lover. I can't believe what happened.// "How about things here?" When Simon groaned, he asked the important, but dumb, question. "Something bad happen?"

"Yeah, all the criminals heard you were on vacation. Rafe thinks that they're afraid of you, that's why a crime wave started the night you left."

"That bad?" Blair was almost asleep, but fighting it by listening to the conversation.

"Yes. A string of thirty-three robberies in the last few days. Not to mention a compulsive graffiti artist on the city cars, and a new gang of purse snatchers. Then there's the person who took the checks off the pay-cart at City Hall, leaving envelopes of Monopoly money in it's place. Also, a person who's been snatching children from daycare, and leaving them in a park hours later unharmed to prove to the parents how unsafe they are. Your face will be the most celebrated arrival day after tomorrow." Simon laughed and looked at Blair. "Not to mention Sleeping Beauties there, too."

Jim looked over at Blair, who was laying uncomfortably on the couch asleep. //So cute. I want to take a picture of this moment. Mine, all mine.// "Simon, can I put him upstairs?"

"Sure, you know where the guest room is."

Jim got up, picked Blair up, and over his almost protests carried him into the guest room. He laid him on the bed, taking off his shoes and outer shirt, then he kissed Blair lightly on the lips and left him to sleep.

"Night love." Blair murmured as Jim turned off the lights.

"Night Blair, love you too," Jim said and closed the door. He went back downstairs, wandering through the kitchen to make sure the twins weren't giving Darryl a hard time, and telling them to "Keep it down, Blair's asleep", before going back into the living room with Simon. "It's been that bad while I was gone?"

"Rafe and Brown will kiss you when you walk in the door."

"No thanks." Simon laughed at Jim's deadpan. "Do you want me to come in tomorrow afternoon or something?"

"No, enjoy your last day of vacation. I'll assign you the daycare case and the robberies."

"What's Megan doing?"

"She had to go back to her old unit for a few months. Seems they forgot about her when they made a *huge* budget cut. She went back down to become semi-permanently on loan to us."

"Her department is okay with that?"

"Have to be, they can't afford to pay her. Besides I called in a favor with the Chief and he called them and told them it was okay with us. You know, giving a glowing recommendation and thinly-veiled offers to take her for longer."

Jim laughed. "What did he want in return?"

"You and Blair in the running for Police Officer of the Year again." He held up a hand. "I know you told him you never wanted to be considered again, but he wants you in the running this year. So deal with it."

"Okay." Jim yawned.

"Long trip?"

"Very. Since yesterday. Kids wouldn't sleep on the plane and the stewardess kept flirting with Blair."

"So... is it... I mean are you officially a couple?"

"Yeah. According to the customs of the village, we are." Another yawn. "But we still have to do it here for the judge. This weekend, isn't it?"

"Yup. Right here in this room. Jim, do you have a problem with doing this for him? I mean, pretending and all?" Simon blushed.

"No, not really. I mean I love him. I do," he responded to Simon's shocked look, "it's just that I don't know if it's that sort of love. Besides, I love the twins, even when they do drive me nuts so it's not so bad."

"Not so bad. You make it sound like you're getting married for the kids, but not for yourselves." "Some. But that's not all of it. I mean, there's supposed to be a bond between Sentinel and Guide, so that came into play, and I love Blair but I'm not sure if it's a sexual sort of love... It's complicated, Simon, and there are days when I can't figure it out." Jim sighed.

"I know. Just make sure you know why on Saturday. After all, I don't want to have to interrupt to tell the Minister that you can't do it."

"Simon, you wouldn't!"

"Yes, I would. I don't want to see Blair hurt by you over this. It's so clear that he loves you. I just can't..." Simon looked down at the floor.

"Simon, I know. We both, all three of us actually, know that I wouldn't hurt Blair intentionally for anything. I'm going to marry him on Saturday come terrorists, bombs, or high water. This means so much to both of us." Jim got up and stretched. "Oh, Blair said you had his backpack with some papers in it for me?"

"Yes, he gave me the adoption papers to hold while you were away. Are you going to do it?"

"Yes. I want them to be Sandburg-Ellison's, or Ellison-Sandburg's. I want them to be mine. In name, and life." Jim paced the living room. "I've wanted a family for so long. Now I can have one, and Blair, and I don't know if I'm happy, or excited, or what. Do you know..."

"Yeah, I know. I yelled at Joan when I found out she was pregnant. It's a scary thing to be a dad, especially if you're getting them already partially grown."

"Thanks, Simon. I knew you'd understand. I just..."

"You're scared. Scared that you'll do something wrong, or something stupid, or put them into danger, or hurt them somehow. It's normal." He got up and placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. Now why don't you go up and nap beside your husband-to-be for a while. We'll take care of the kids. Matter of fact, Simon'll probably nap on me." Simon gave him a shove towards the stairs.

Jim went upstairs to the guestroom and lay down beside Blair. "I heard what you said. I didn't know... If you want..."

"Blair," he turned to face the awake man, "listen. There is nothing that I want more than to be a dad to them," He kissed the tip of Blair 's nose. "And a husband to you."

"I'd understand. I really would if you wanted to go a little slower."

"I don't want to go slower. I want to go faster. This way gives me too much time to doubt myself in between steps."

"Saturday's just four days away."

"I know, but that's four days I can have cold feet and doubt."

"I thought it was normal to have doubts before a wedding."

"It is, but we're both doubting too hard. I don't know why, but it seems almost..." Jim was searching for a word, but Blair gave it to him.

"Painful. Like something's not right?"

"Yeah, like we have everything we need, but we don't think it's ... real, I guess would be closest."

"We could take some time and..."

"No we can't. We need to do this soon, if for no other reason than the twins. I want this, and us together, it's just, I don't know."

"I know. Maybe we should spend some time apart. To think. I could probably stay here until Saturday and you could go back to the loft. It would give us both time to think things through."

"I don't want to be alone there. Maybe we need to be alone together for a while." Jim laid his head on Blair's shoulder. "I never felt this when we were together in the jungle those days. Everything feels so right when we're by ourselves."

"I know. So what do we do?"

"How about we ask Simon to sit for a few days for us. Then we could talk and figure things out, without having to worry about schedules and dinner on time and things like that."

"Sounds good, Jim. Do you think the kids would mind? Or Simon?"

"Simon asked me what was wrong downstairs. And if I know our daughter, she's already heard us."

Mena turned up her hearing, still working on drawing pictures of the village for Darryl and Uncle Simon. //Uh-oh. Dads fighting again. Good, talk each other. We love Uncle Simon. Better tell brother.//

She looked around for James, who was sitting on Uncle Simon's lap. [What?] he sent.

[Stay here little while so dads talk. Okay?]

[Okay. Uncle Simon called me a lap warmer. Pouting]

[Well, you are cuddly with him. Bad or good?]

[Good. Okay, like idea. Tell uncle?]

[No, we'll let dads.] She went back to her coloring and Simon finished his story. Neither noticed that Simon and Darryl had been watching them.

Darryl headed over to Mena with a thoughtful look on his face. "Mena," she looked up at him, "can you tell me what just happened when Simon and you looked at each other? Did you talk or something?"

[Tell them?]

[No! Secret! Mom say so!] Little Simon sent fear, sadness, and hurt over their bond.

[They okay.]

[No! They leave like Mommy.]

"Nothing. Why?" She gave Darryl her biggest innocent look.

"Let me tell you a story. You too, Simon." Darryl picked up Mena and carried her into the living room. He sat down with her on his lap. "You see, a long time ago, a smart person at some college somewhere figured out that twins were special. That they could understand each other better than others. She called it twin speak. It also happened that some twins could use their own language between them, something no one else would understand. Or that sometimes they could communicate with each other, without other people knowing. These twins were considered *very* special. Do you and your brother Simon have something like that?"

[Tell them?]

[Not know.] "Why they special, Darryl?" Little Simon asked.

"Because no one else could do that. Only twins. And only with their own twin."

[Yes, tell them Mena.]

"Yes, we do." She got up and went over to hug her brother. [Not tell everything. Tell dads later.]

[Yes, have to know.] "Yes we do, Uncle Darryl."


"At least we didn't lose them on the trip," Jim said as he was watching Blair unpack their presents from the tribe, looking down at the child pulling on his pants leg. "Yes, Mena?"

"Gotta go," she whined, hopping up and down. He picked her up, carrying her into the guest suite's bathroom. They came back a few minutes later. "Treat?"

"Yes, I'd say you deserve one," Blair told her, pulling out the bag of Skittles and pouring her out a few. "Did you wash your hands?"

"Yes," Jim told him, rolling his eyes. He watched as his children, and they were his children now, shared the treat. "Simon said he wanted to talk to us after supper, something about them."

Blair nodded. "They probably found out about Mena being a Sentinel." He sat down on the bed to watch the kids watch them. "Is that what he found out, that Mena was special?"

Mena shook her head. "Speaking." She leaned over, kissing her brother on the cheek.

"Speaking?" Jim asked. "Like what the Shaman's daughter saw? You guys talk without words?" He sat down next to them on the floor. "Can you do that? Talk without talking?"

"Jim, easy, you're going to confuse them. It's been proven that many twins have some sort of mental awareness of the other, they probably just brought it to the telepathic level with the other in case they needed it because of Mena." He slid off the bed to join them on the floor. "Who told you? Darryl?" Mena nodded, patting the back of her brother's head since it was now laying on her lap. "Did he call it Twinspeak?" She nodded again, this time smiling. "That's cool then. Just don't tell anyone that's not an Unclie or an Auntie." He kissed each of them, pulling little Simon up into his lap. "What's wrong?"

"Sweepy," Simon said, rubbing his eyes. "Nap?"

"No nap!" Mena told him.

"He can nap and you don't have to," Jim told her, picking her up. "You're awfully calm about that revelation."

"It makes sense," Blair told him with a small smile. "And my cousin, who is a triplet, has it at this same level. To the point of telepathy with her biological twin but not the other part of the trio."

Jim sighed, leaning against the bottom of the bed. "Okay then. It's just a strange Sandburg thing then." He rolled his head to look at his soon-to-be husband. "You're sure this is okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay. It usually lessens as they get older and they get more advanced language skills, though the partial sentence speaking never seems to stop. My Undergrad research papers were all on twins and triplets, using my cousin and her support group as a study group. Eventually, they'll end up being able to say one or two words and say a paragraph's worth." He smiled at his partner. "Relax, this will actually help her with controlling her senses."

"This is still strange to me," Jim told him quietly, rubbing over Mena's hair. "How is she a Sentinel?"

"Jim, remember the DNA map of ours? How they matched so much? How the mutation was just a latency between us? Well, I'm pretty sure it's genetic so my children, and yours, would have a higher rate of passing it on. And it'd make sense. Parents in tribal and primitive cultures teach their children so much more than we do, it would make sense for them to pass this on too."

"So I should have kids too?"

"Not if you don't want to. If you had stayed with your tribe I'm sure there'd be a bunch of little Jim's running around by now but we're not hurting here." He reached over and squeezed the older man's hand. "I'm not going to force you to have kids to prove the theory," he said quietly.

"You sure?" Jim joked, smiling at the younger man. Blair frowned at him. "Sorry, had to get it out."

"Get down here," Simon called from downstairs. "Supper's ready."

Mena looked at her brother and frowned. [Food?]

"No want food," little Simon told her, opening up one eye to look at her. "No eat me."

"No, we're not going to eat you," Blair told him, standing up. "You can nap on the couch until you're ready to eat." He watched as Jim got up, Mena taking his hand automatically. "See, this is how it's supposed to be if we were still natural." Jim nodded, letting him go first.

"What's wrong with this guy?" Darryl said, taking little Simon to put on the couch. "Sleepy from the trip?"

"He seems to be sleepy a lot of the time," Jim told him with a small shrug. "We're going to talk to their pediatrician next time they go in."

"NO SHOTS!" Mena screamed, hiding behind Uncle Simon.

Darryl looked at his father and smiled. "Flashbacks?" he asked, seeing the fond look down at the little person behind his legs.

"A few," big Simon admitted. "Though you never got that loud about it." He waved at the table. "Come on, no shots here, just supper." Mena walked over to her booster seat, sliding up into it and grabbing a 'tree' from her plate, eating it happily. All the adults shook their heads and Simon looked at his friends and underlings. "She's a Sandburg all right, she's likes vegetables. Couldn't get Darryl to touch those for my life."

"I ate them eventually, you just had to find the power of Ranch dressing," the teen said, sitting down. "Come sit, guys, you can monitor the little guy from over here." Jim sat down across from him, looking at him. "Hey, it's kinda obvious, and dad told me." Darryl dished some stuffing out onto his plate. "I figured out Mena has the gift too."

"It's a genetic latency," Blair told him, taking the seat beside Jim, then handed over the half empty glass to their host. "Sorry."

"Not a problem, I just put it there temporarily." He smiled down at his friends before sitting down. "Darryl actually came to me and asked what was wrong with Jim and how he found things that the people with microscopes didn't." He took the bowl his son passed to him. "A genetic latency?" he asked Blair.

"Apparently, what gives Jim his senses also makes me a guide, it's just a matter of latency or of magnitude."

"So, theoretically, you could become a sentinel?" Blair shuddered. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I could," Blair temporized, "but I don't want to." He looked at Jim and smiled at him. "Just don't let me get locked up long-term somewhere very quiet."

Jim shook his head. "Just stop," he said, taking the food passed to him. He turned his senses on the child on the couch, frowning. "Um, he's hot."

"Better than a thermometer," Blair quipped, getting up to check on his son. He brought him back to the table. "Very good. How much?"

"102.3," Jim said, taking a bite. "Want to take him to the hospital or wait?"

"I want to give him some Tylenol. It could just be from the travel." Darryl got up, getting him the requested medicine and a bowl of applesauce to hide it in. "Thanks, man." He fed his son the drugs, making him swallow all of it. The baby slid off his lap, hurrying for the bathroom.

Jim got up, following him, coming back after a few minutes of water running. "I think we should go to the hospital, Blair, he's really sick."

Blair scraped his plate clean. "Simon, can you watch Mena?" He got a nod so turned to his daughter. "We're taking your brother to the hospital, will you be good and nice for Uncle Simon?" She frowned but nodded. "Okay, if we can't come back soon, we'll call." He kissed his daughter on the head before getting up and following Jim out to his car.

Darryl looked at his father then at Mena. "So, how would you like to play some games later?"

"Brother sick," Mena told them, nodding.

"Yeah, I know, but he'll be fine," Simon told her, reaching over to rub over her arm. "Let's just hope he didn't get some jungle fever." His son nodded, getting up to get a book, his usual meal- time thing. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"It's not a bad book," Darryl told him, rehashing his part of the argument. He showed it off. "It's not like it's Playboy or something, classical literature is suitable for table reading."


Blair shook his head for the third time in twenty minutes, stomping down his urge to beat the doctor. "No, we went down there because my partner needed to talk to his tribe and I took the opportunity to do some paid study work." He brushed over his son's head. "And his *twin* sister isn't sick at all, she was scowling at him for his frequent napping because it meant he couldn't play with her."

The balding man nodded absently, looking over the chart. "I don't have a clue," he admitted finally, looking up. "I can go look it up in the third world disease index, but by then, he'd be so sick it'd be iffy. Or we could start him on some strong antibiotics and hope for the best until we can figure it out."

"Or," Jim said as he walked in with their pediatrician, who had just gotten there due to his panicked calls, "we could consult their doctor." He stepped out of the new man's way, waiting until the other doctor talked quietly with him and left before frowning at Blair. "He's a doctor?"

"Yes," their pediatrician, a small, pleasant looking man said. He looked up, blowing his dark hair off his slightly yellowed skin. "Most of us only get a semester of children in school and nothing on strange diseases unless we ask for it." He sat down on the bed, looking down at the child. "Hey, Simon, what's wrong? Bad bellies or your head?" The little boy held his forehead. "Hurts? Like your sister kicking you in it? Or is it just throbbing?"

"Hurts," he whined.

"He's thrown up too," Blair told him. He snapped his fingers. "I had migraines as a child. Naomi told me about them. I used to be laid up for days when it got too bad."

"I had those," Jim admitted. "The light felt like swords coming to rip your eyes apart." He looked down at their son. "Lights or smells hurting?" he asked.

"Boff." Simon looked at his father. "Me need nap."

"Yeah, I know," Blair crooned, rubbing his stomach. "We'll make it better and you can go nap." He looked at their doctor. "What do we do about this?"

"If it's a migraine? Then we have some nice painkillers that are approved for kids this young that will knock him out for a good six hours at a time. We need to make sure that's what it is, though," he reminded them. "I don't agree with the attending when he suggested some sort of jungle virus but we have to make sure." Jim nodded, stepping back. "Detective, I believe you might know more than Mr. Sandburg about these things, don't most of them start with high fevers?"

"Most of the ones I saw, and the one I got, started out with the runs." He frowned. "Blair?"

"The three or so I got started out that way, but one did have a bad fever and headache with it." He touched his son's stomach but he didn't flinch. "That one, every person on our dig that got it, if you touched their stomach, they jumped and screamed in pain, and if I remember right, it was a poisoning from a plant."

The doctor nodded, smiling at them both, his eyes crinkling in pleasure. "That was certainly helpful. I had no idea you had done more work in that area of the world."

"Most of my work is in that area of the world," Blair told him with a shrug. "Small, threatened cultures are all over Central and South America." He looked over his shoulder at Jim. "If it is migraines, we'll have to get some really thick curtains for their room."

"And warn Mena to not bother him."

Simon picked up the little girl, sitting him on her lap so she could still stare at the door. "Mena," he said quietly, "your brother's fine." She nodded. "We could call Daddies if you want." She shook her head.

"Can you still hear them?" Darryl asked from his chair. She shook her head. "He'll be home soon," he assured her. He looked at his father. "If it was Jim, he'd be tearing you up to be beside Blair."

"True," Simon admitted, "but to expose her needlessly to the Emergency Room? I'd rather just call." He picked up the phone, dialing it. "Jim? No, Mena's staring at the door, sucking her thumb. How's the little guy?

Blair looked over his shoulder as Jim walked back in, putting the phone next to his son's ear. "Your sissy," he said quietly.

"Mena?" little Simon asked quietly. [Me tick again,] he sent. He curled up around the phone. "Bad heads." [Bad bellies too, but really bad heads. Gonna do what you did to grapes soon.] He frowned as she started to cry. "No, me 'tay," he assured her. "Me get 'dicine." He nodded, handing the phone back. "Unclie."

"Simon?" Blair asked, standing up and taking it into the hall. "Let me talk to her." He leaned against a wall. "Hey, sweetie, what else did he tell you? No, we need to know so we can get him better." He nodded, smiling. "No, his head won't explode like the grapes you smash. It just feels that way. I promise it won't." He smiled and hung up. "He has a stomach ache too," he told Jim as he handed back the phone.

"His head feels like a grape Mena's squeezed?" Jim asked, rubbing over a brow. "I think we need to talk to them."

"Yeah, but we can't do it yet. This is how it's supposed to be." Blair shrugged, sitting back down on the bed. He smiled at the doctor as he walked in. "He said his head feels like a grape his sister squeezed and his stomach hurts."

"That's certainly consistent with a migraine," the doctor said, sitting back down, putting the needle on the table. "When did he tell you that?"

"He told his sister that," Jim told him, "we just talked to her."

The Pediatrician laughed. "Ah, twins. I love twins, I never see one without the other because they always know more than the parents." He uncapped the needle. "This will kill his headache, and put him asleep for a few hours, but it's your choice still."

"Let's try it this once," Blair said, looking at Jim, who nodded. They both winced as the needle went into their son's rear.

"Okay, done," the doctor said, leaning back. "We'll have to wait for a few hours to make sure he's not reacting badly to the medicine but he should be fine."

"Good, Advil never worked for me," Blair said, leaning into Jim's body.


Simon unlocked his door as quietly as he could but Mena still ran out it, heading directly for the car. "Brother?" she asked, jumping up and down to look into the back seat. "He 'tay?"

"He's fine," Jim said as he picked her up to hug her. "His head hurt him really badly and the doctor gave him some medicine to make him sleep. He really needs quiet now, can you just nap beside him and let him sleep?" She nodded, watching her father take her brother out of his carseat and carry him inside. "Mena, look at me," he said quietly, making her. "This isn't something you can guard against, we just have to deal with them. I want you to sleep tonight, okay?"

She stuck her tongue out. "Me no nap, go watch him." She wiggled to get down but Daddy Jim carried her inside, laying her on the bed beside her brother. "Me no nap," she said firmly.

"Shh," Blair whispered, "he needs it to be really quiet, okay?" She nodded, sticking her thumb back in her mouth. "Okay, now, just lay there beside him and cuddle him. He should be better in the morning." He stood back up, walking back beside Jim. "Let's go tell Simon."

They headed down the stairs, taking the glasses their friend handed them with a small nod before collapsing on the couch. "The attending was an idiot," Jim noted.

Blair nodded, draining half his glass. "Yes, but he's going to have a rough time of it. My migraines kept me in bed for almost four months at one point." He looked up at Simon. "He's got my migraines."

"Ah, that would explain Mena's talking about his head exploding like a grape." Simon sat across from them. "They give you good medicine?"

"Yup," Blair said. "Injected the first one while we were there, about an hour ago. We have a sample pack to give him another one in the morning if he needs it. It's supposed to knock him out for about six hours and slowly bring him back right before his next shot two hours after that." He looked at Jim. "I'll talk to my herbalist friends and see if we can't find him something more natural."

"There isn't one for migraines," Darryl said, walking out and handing over bowls of buttered popcorn. "Microwaved with real margarine." He sat down next to his father. "I used to have those too, and we looked everywhere, including this nice guy in a real Chinese herb shop. I'm guessing they haven't found a new one recently." He ate a handful of the treat, passing the bowl to his father. "I'm sure Mena will tell you if he needs anything."

"Yeah," Jim said, rubbing over his head. He looked at Blair, who shrugged. "Darryl, we'd like to do a DNA test on you, see if you've got the genetic markers," he said calmly, expecting the teen's father to jump up and yell.

"He's a guide," Simon said, leaning back. "But if he thinks it's all right, I'll allow it." He patted his son on the back. "He's found a kid with three senses at his school."

"Nice girl, about three years younger than me. Had a long talk with her parents after Dad told me what was really going on. They had her on Psychiatric drugs."

"Those don't work," Blair groaned. "They make the spikes worse. Can you bring her to me?"

"Sure," Darryl told him, nodding. "We've already planned to barge in on you next week before you start teaching again." He stood up. "I'm going to go to bed, goodnight." He waved, heading up the stairs.

Blair yawned. "I think he's got the right idea. Can we stay..." Simon growled at him. "Thanks man." He got up, jogging up the stairs.

Jim listened until he heard Blair fall asleep before looking at his friend. "This is weird. How long have you known?"

"Darryl brought her home a week ago, and a few days actually. He said he found her zoned on an apple." Jim shook his head. "He had asked the day before that about you, putting two and two together and coming up with another Sentinel." Simon shifted, getting comfortable. "I think he was pissed that you two didn't trust him that much." He stood up. "You should go to bed too, it's been a long trip and I'm sure you'd rather listen to Blair snore than me." He patted the younger man's shoulder as he walked up to his bedroom.

Jim stood up, stretching as he headed up to curl around Blair, stopping to check on the kids one last time.


Blair jogged into the florist's, shaking his head when he saw the time on his watch. "Sorry I'm late," he called. The woman that was planning their wedding came out of the back, smiling.

"It's always hectic the week before," she soothed. "I've never met anyone that was on time during this time." She pulled out a box, handing it over. "That's what you wanted?"

He opened it, looking at the small spray of flowers that he and Jim would wear, then looked up with a grin. "This is perfect. I got six, right?"

She checked the form. "Seven. One's a smaller one for your son." She handed it over, letting him look at it. "I talked to the caterers yesterday, they made allowances for cops with big appetites. She wanted final numbers though."

"Twenty-five people, ten of which are cops or traditionally starved, including a teenaged male."

She shook her head, writing it down. "That's about what she figured. She said she'd make enough for forty, you can always use the leftovers if there's anything left."

"Did you remind her to make out ingredient cards?" She nodded, brushing her blonde hair behind her ears. "Okay. What about the music?"

"They're booked and paid for. Everything's set." She patted his arm. "I know you'll tell me off for it, but relax." He laughed, smiling at her. "I know, but you need to slow down. Especially with kids."

"Oh," he said, snapping his finger. "Is this the extra one, the one I'm supposed to take with me to make sure no one's allergic to it?" She nodded. "Thanks. We just found out our son has migraines and I wouldn't want to torment him." He sild the boutonniere into the box and into his backpack. "What else do I need to do?"


"Got one. So does Jim."


"Written and rehearsed."

"Then that's it. We've taken care of everything else." She smiled at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Go be happy, Prof. Let us handle it for you."

"I knew it was a mistake to let you leave school," he told her, turning around. "Later."

"Friday," she called after him. He nodded as he walked out the door.


Jim nervously looked at his image in the mirror, his fingers stumbling on tying his bowtie. "Simon, help," he called down to the living room. His best man walked up, smiling at him. He looked down at his traitorous hands. "I don't know why I'm nervous."

"Because this is permanent and it's important." He straightened the bow, stepping back. "Okay, done. Let's go. You're going to be late."

"Isn't that what's supposed to happen?" Jim asked, smiling slightly. "Carolyn was an hour late."

"Ah, but this is the kid we're talking about. And he's at my house with Darryl. He'll be on time."

"Then I guess we should go."

Simon stopped his friend from leaving the bedroom. "Jim, it's not too late to back out if you want or need to. Blair and everyone will understand, put it down to nervousness about making such an open statement."

"No, we need this," Jim said firmly, brushing his hands down his jacket. "We're all but married now, that's why we were in Peru, we bonded. This is to make it as legal as possible. Then the judge will award us custody and we'll all live happily ever after."

"Marriage changes things," Simon reminded him.

"Yes, but we won't be arguing over toothpaste caps." Jim smiled, nodding down to the living room. "Come on, let's go. You're driving." He started walking.

Simon snorted. "It's not like I was going to ride with you if you were."

Blair checked his hair again, twisting the rings in his ears nervously. "I don't know why I'm twittering," he told the younger man. "I mean, we're already together. We've been living together for three years now and we're all but married because of what happened in Peru." Darryl nodded, handing him his tie. "Can you?"

"Of course." Darryl turned him around, putting the bowtie on and fastening the clip behind the bow. "Much smarter to have a clipped one," he told him with a smile. "I doubt you could have tied this if it would save everyone's life."

"I could, but it wouldn't look good," Blair quipped. He turned back around to check it, fussing with his jacket some more. "Okay, we should go."

"We're almost ready," Megan called as she walked down the hall. "Just a missing shoe."

"They were under her bed," Darryl told the Inspector. Megan nodded, heading back to the room the kids had inhabited last night.

They all met again in the hall, Mena twirling around in her dress to show it off. "I pretty," she said. Her brother nodded, grinning as he hugged Darryl. "He pretty too."

"Yup, we're all pretty," Darryl told her. "Come on, Jim should be here soon. I'm sure he won't be late."

Blair chuckled. "No, Jim and late aren't usually put in the same sentence." He led the parade down to the backyard, stopping Mena from going back to her earlier project in the garden..


Brian Rafe put down his desk's phone, standing up and looking around. "We've got problems," he called to Henry Brown, who was in the break room. They had pulled the short straw from the hat and had to work today. His partner walked out, frowning at him. "We've had an escape at the prison." He grabbed his jacket. "Ten people that they know of escaped."

Henry shook his head. "Only on Ellison's and Hairboy's wedding," he said as he picked up his own jacket, making sure his gun was in his holster. He stopped and had a word with the desk Sargent, telling him what was going on and making sure he knew how to reach them before leaving the building.


Blair smiled at Jim as he signed the last legal form giving Jim custody of him, his children, and his future; making sure they had all the paperwork for medical emergencies and the like had been Darryl's idea, complete with a reminder of how many times Blair had been in the hospital. He handed the Justice of the Peace that had agreed to officiate over their ceremony the pen. "Done," he said. He turned back around to face front.

"You two are now joined as legally as allowed, now you make your vows to those assembled."

Someone in the back laughed, walking up the aisle. "Oh, this is something I only thought happened in strange magazines from the East coast," he said, waving the gun he held around.

Blair and Darryl, who was on his right, groaned. "Why us?" Blair asked quietly, looking up. He turned to look at the man. "Damn, who let you out, Margolis?"

"Don't aggravate the gunman," Darryl reminded him.

"That's right, *Sandburg*, don't irritate the man that holds your future in his hands." He wiped the sweat from his pale, receding hairline with his gun hand. "Now, I think we should do this the right way. Tell him, *Detective*, tell him how you're not like that."

Jim scowled. "I can't do that." The escapee looked at him in shock. "Sorry if it disappoints you, but I love him." He shrugged, easing in front of the kids.

Blair felt someone move closer to him, and then felt the leather of a holster. He slid the gun from it, making the newly arrived Detective Rafe start, but he hid it behind his back as he moved closer. "Why are you doing this? You had to know this was an instant go back to jail move." He waved a hand around at the cops in the gathered people. "We have at least ten cops here, most of which know you, Margolis. Just drop the gun and let it go peacefully." The gun was waved in his face, making him take a deep breath and reevaluate his plan.

"I don't think so," the convict spat, then spat on the ground. "See, this was too good to pass up." He smiled, showing his yellowing teeth.

"Yay," Blair said coldly, pulling the gun from behind his back, pointing it at the man's shiny nose. "Still say so?"

Margolis laughed. "Yeah, I do. I don't think you could pull the trigger." The gun was brought down quickly and fired off between his feet then put back in his face, making him blanche. "Okay," he said, backing up, dropping his gun and putting his hands up, "I'm sorry I broke up your nuptials. Please, have my blessings," he said, still walking backwards.

Simon stopped him, tripping him and cuffing him quickly. "Can't you two do anything without terrorists?" He glared at Blair. "I should make you fill in that hole with a teaspoon."

Blair smiled at him before turning around, handing Rafe back his gun with a small pat to his arm. "Our vows, right?" he asked. Jim swatted the back of his head. "Hey, I'm tired of interruptions. You're mine, not even a bomb-wielding insane person who wanted my guts to decorate the crowd is going to stop me from claiming you," he said loudly, and everyone started to laugh.

Jim shook his head. "Why did I agree to this?" Blair gave him a big-eyed look. "No, I agree, let's get this over before we get called in to catch whoever else got loose."

Rafe cleared his throat. "We were going to have to pull some guests away," he said quietly as he backed away from them, giving Blair a hurt look. "You had to do that with *my* gun? Don't you know how much paperwork I'll have to fill out?"

"For what?" Blair asked with a twinkle. "I didn't see you pull it or fire it. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen it outside of it's holster in days." He smiled at Simon, who grunted. "See?" Rafe nodded, laughing now as he retreated, pulling a few of the guests with him. Blair turned back to the woman proceeding over their wedding, smiling. "You thought this was going to be routine, right?"

"Never happens with you two," Simon growled, patting Jim's back. "Just hurry up so no one else busts in on this moment."

Jim nodded, turning to take Blair's hand in his, clearing his throat. "I do want to take you," he started.


Blair collapsed on his and Jim's couch, his bowtie gracing the couch beside him. "Well, that was a trip," he told his mate. Jim nodded, drinking his beer. "I still want to know why they decided to do this today of all days."

"Someone heard," Jim said, walking over and handing his husband a beer as he sat beside him. "One of them confessed they had heard we were doing that today and wanted to break it up."

"So they broke out of jail and came to bother our wedding?" Blair shook his head, drinking his beer slowly. "What now?"

"Depends. Did you want to do anything tonight?"

"Well, I had a plan, but I think I'm too tired now." He turned his head to smile at Jim, who was rolling his eyes. "Hey, I told you I wanted to do us tonight."

"I agreed to that plan until I saw the mound of paperwork." Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "How about in the morning? Simon said he'd watch the kids until tomorrow at dinner."

"Hey, works for me." Blair yawned, leaning against the hard body. "I could sleep now."

"Let me finish this and we'll go up to the bedroom," Jim said quietly, taking the beer and draining both bottles. He looked down at the first snore, shaking his head. "Wondered where the kids got that from," he muttered, putting the bottles down and standing up, picking up his Guide to carry him up to their bed.