Bought

Blair gulped.

He was petrified that the dour, always serious, older Sentinel who owned him, Jim Ellison, would ultimately decide to sell him to one of the breeding farms the Vet had mentioned on his first visit. Not that Ellison had been anything but gentle with him. It was just that the financial benefits seemed like they'd appeal to him.

Blair shivered. He was equally terrified his child would be taken from him immediately after he was born, and would disappear from his life in that instant. Becoming eventually yet another anonymous Guide, draped head to foot, and Blair would never have a chance to know him.

The Vet certainly had not given up his endless campaigning to convince Ellison and to a lesser extent Rafe, that selling Blair was the best course of action they could chose. Blair hated the man with a passion. He dreaded each and every knock on the loft door, in case it was the Vet returning. If it had any chance of doing any good, he would hide. But how do you hide from a Sentinel? He hated the dry, assertive hands as they moved over and into him. He hated the eyes that looked at him like a farmer examining a prize bit of livestock.

Three times more after that night when Blair was first examined, the man had returned, and each time the price of a breeding Guide made it into the conversation. Often as Blair lay on his back on the big bed of the loft bedroom, his legs spread, robes bunched up around his waist, and fingers buried in his body, pressing down on the outside and up from inside, gauging the state of his gravid uterus. He trembled in revulsion and fear.

Money, along with the societal benefit that Blair would be providing as he carried litter after litter, bettering the lives of unbonded Sentinels as he did, always headed the conversation as the Vet conducted his exam. Bringing more Guides into the world. Guides who were needed, who would offer great service to Sentinels now suffering from a distinct lack of Guides.

The more the man spoke the more like an animal Blair felt. His fingers were clenched in the folds of his voluminous robes. Given half a chance he'd like to wrap them around the man's neck. And squeeze. It didn't matter that the Sentinel was bigger and stronger than he was. He'd like a chance at the man. A chance to show him that he was real, that he was Blair Sandburg, a person, not a thing. The fingers of the Vet slid out, leaving Blair feeling soupy, unclean.

The Vet grabbed Blair's male genitalia and flopped it side to side. He laughed, as if at some joke and said, "This is a waste on such a good breeder, superfluous. And best taken off to keep his energy where it should be. Carrying pups. Easy enough to do after he delivers this one. Less than a day in the clinic. Be as good as new and able to breed again in a month or two."

That was it for Blair, not even the fear of a beating could keep him still. He wrenched his robes down, jerking away from the man, who laughed heartily and slapped his rump, pronouncing Blair extremely healthy and fit.

"Really, Sentinel Ellison," the Vet used a tone of great respect when he addressed the heir to the Ellison fortune and to Cascade's Sentinel Clan. Yet he managed to convey a subtle impatience as well. As if the obvious merit of his argument could not be disputed. As if he couldn't credit Jim's inability to instantly agree with him.

"It is a generous thing, to take an action that can do so much good. Selfless and generous." He was washing his hands once more as he said it, drying them on paper towels, his eyes sliding towards where Blair crouched on the stairs to the loft bedroom. Under his veil Blair peeled back his lips from his teeth and snarled at the man. Unseen, but he felt better for it. Defiant and a fraction stronger, though still sticky and defiled.

Jim Ellison seemed to be listening with only half his attention to the ongoing natter of the Vet's lecture. The lion's share of his focus was on Rafe, who was preparing something in the kitchen, Blair couldn't see what. Rafe, if Blair was any judge hated the Vet putting his hands on Blair as much as Blair did. Blair could see the tightly held shoulders, the stiff posture, movements jerky instead of the usual smooth and co-ordinated motion, as the younger Sentinel moved about his task.

Rafe was every bit as distressed as he was by the talk of breeding and selling Blair, Blair was sure. He clung to the hope that the younger of his Sentinel owners would speak up, would protest, would do something to stop the sale. Make a decision that was final, to keep Blair away from a life in breeding pens. A life that would mean he was not going to know his children. Forced breeding, Blair thought he would vomit. He drew in a breath, tried to quiet his heart.

Ellison turned towards the Doctor, regarding the man with an expression that was impossible to read. He nodded his head towards the two comfortable couches that were in the living room. Ellison and the Vet moved towards the couches to continue their conversation.

Blair stood up from the steps to the loft he'd been sitting on, and crept down them, inching towards the couches. He didn't care if it drew unwelcome attention to himself. He had to hear what was being said, he couldn't stand not knowing. Rafe carried in two cups of coffee. Milk, sugar, he placed them on the coffee table in front of the two older men, as Blair sidled up behind the tall back of the couch and crouched there inconspicuously.

Rafe went back into the kitchen and prepared a pitcher of tea, ice floating in it next to sliced lemons. Blair's mouth watered. He hadn't had anything caffeinated for months, not since he'd been taken to the House. Guides drank purified spring water, nothing else aside from a foul tasting electrolyte solution if the weather was hot and there was some risk of dehydration. His hand went to his chin involuntarily, fingertips resting on his lips, it would taste so good.

His eyes fixed on Rafe. To his shock the younger Sentinel looked at him over his shoulder, as if sensing Blair's eyes on him. Blair was aware of the regard, despite the veil preventing him from seeing the other's face clearly, he tried to be even more still, even less conspicuous, he lowered his gaze and listened as hard as he could, but there was nothing new being said. Only more of the same.

"..without taking the time to think of....." Ellison said, before Blair lost track, his eyes finding Rafe again, his attention commandeered. "...concerned for his health. How is he doing....." Again Blair tuned out as he watched the graceful, slim yet broad shouldered form of his youngest Sentinel.

Rafe made a U-turn back into the kitchen, filled a tall, plastic glass, no self-respecting Sentinel trusted a Guide with breakable things, things that might cause injury...and detoured from the kitchen to behind the couches as the two older Sentinels conversed.

"Giving up a compatible Guide is a serious step, it should not be done lightly, not even for societal benefit." Ellison was saying in his strong, unflinching tone, his voice held a hint of anger. His inflection made it clear he was not going to be influenced, he was not going to budge an inch or listen to an opposing opinion and have his own changed. He would make up his own mind, in his own time, and he didn't need, nor would he welcome help in deciding. Blair picked that up, but it seemed the Vet wasn't as astute. He nattered on. Talking about he excellent care breeding Guides received.

"Pshaw." The Vet waved a dismissive hand. "You haven't even bothered to use him. How compatible could he be?" Blair hated the laugh that rolled out of the big man one more time.

Blair could have screamed with the 'not knowing'. What was going to happen to him? He burned with the fear and frustration of not being able to influence the decisions being contemplated. He had virtually no say in his future. He hated that feeling. He may as well have been a French poodle carrying pedigreed puppies.

"Hmmm. Is he really the best match for you and your Companion? There are likely others, infertile Guides who would be as well matched. Guides who didn't have the gift yours has to carry pups. Or the healthy body. The litters must be spaced out so as not to tax the system....." The Vet was adding, between slurps of hot coffee. Blair hoped he was burning his tongue. Then he noticed with a guilty startle that Rafe was in front of him. He had a moment of panic that only slowly dissipated as he saw no censure on the younger Sentinel's face. Blair swallowed hard.

Rafe knelt down, a good foot away from the edges of Blair's robes, taking no chances that he'd actually touch Blair, even so Blair's heart rate accelerated, his skin prickled. He watched the other man intently. Carefully the dark haired man held out the plastic glass, pictures of cartoon characters decorating the sides, his fingers at the rim and under the bottom, leaving the whole middle section for Blair to grab onto. Stunned to be offered the drink, Blair nevertheless reached out, hands covered by the cloth of his robes, and took the iced tea, surprised when the offer wasn't withdrawn at the last moment, as if it was some unfair test of his willingness to conform.

Cautiously he raised the glass up under his robes, sipped. The flavor of the tea and lemons, tart and sweet, exploded over his tongue. Weeks, months of horridly bland food had left him longing for flavor. The tea was wonderful. He took another sip. Closed his eyes in bliss....sipped again.

"No!" He heard the word snapped at him from his right, from the couch. He flinched as the Sentinel Vet loomed over the edge and reached for him. He cringed back, tumbling into Rafe, losing his grip on the glass in his haste to avoid being touched by the man he so loathed. Blair gasped as the chilly drink spilled down his chest and stomach. "He is pregnant. He can't have....."

Rafe responded in two ways to the other man reaching for his Guide. He enveloped the tea soaked Blair in his arms, putting himself between Blair and the Vet. And he bared his strong, white teeth, growling loudly, aggressively. The Vet stared, shocked, then recoiled violently. His body recognizing the threat before his brain.

Blair shivered in Rafe's arms, clinging to him with bare fingers, their skin actually touching where Blair's hand hooked onto Rafe's arm. He shrank closer, as close as he could into the shielding embrace. He turned his head into Rafe's shoulder, gazed up.

"Thank you," he whispered, trying to convey his gratitude while also trying very hard to see the face in front of his. Rafe's face broke into a feral smile barely more smile than snarl. Blair saw that, the flash of very white teeth in a lightly tanned face. The man was very handsome he thought. Very appealing with his youthful face, his dark eyes and sculpted features, generous mouth. And he was protecting Blair. As if Blair was his own. Claimed. A Claimed Guide would never be sold. Blair's heart skipped a beat.

Claimed. Was that the answer? If he could be Claimed...he wouldn't be sent to a farm. He'd stand a chance of keeping his child, wouldn't he? Wouldn't they listen to him if he was their Claimed Guide? Blair shuddered...but being Claimed meant he'd have to let...

"Rafe." Ellison's tone was hard, inquiring as to what kind of mischief his Companion was up to. Rafe's predatory smile faded a bit, but he didn't withdraw from Blair. If anything his arms tightened. The Vet dared to look over the back of the couch again. But he stayed back from the edge, out of easy reach, kept his mouth shut. Blair's grip clamped down harder at the sight of the man. His nails left frantic, half moon crescents in Rafe's forearm that welled blood. He whimpered.

"The Guide mustn't have stimulants..." The Vet began, peevishly as Jim rose and came around the end of the couch. Jim held up a hand.

"Quiet." He said. And the Vet miraculously quieted.

Blair huddled into Rafe's body, into the security it represented. He wasn't happy with Jim's slow, smooth progress around the couch and towards him.

They had not touched since the first night, he and Rafe, the closest they'd come was the brush of Blair's robe on the back of Rafe's hand every now and then. But now Rafe's arms were all the way around him, under Blair's capacious robes. Blair let out a sigh. It had been so long since he'd been touched by someone he didn't feel repulsed by. Since Ellison had washed him. A month.

"Rafe." Ellison's tone was firmer, daring his Companion to ignore him a second time. Rafe let out a growl and bent his head lower, but his eyes never left the Vet's head peeking over the back of the couch.

"Senior?" Rafe stayed where he was, Blair plastered to him, both of them now soaked with the spilled tea. The voice was all rumbling growl.

Jim looked over the back of the couch wordlessly for a moment, his attention fixed on the Vet, then he spoke to the doctor. "Get out." He told the man. "I won't forget what you have said. But any decision made now is premature. It is time for you to leave."

"Yes." The Vet did not sound happy. But he was smart enough not to insist on further discussion or to protest being tossed out on his ear. Ellison stood, tall and menacing in a way, though he made no overt threat. The Vet gathered his things quickly and went for the door, light blue eyes fixed on him as Jim escorted him to the door and shut it without bidding the man good-bye, turning the locks as he did.

Jim Ellison turned back to where Rafe crouched over Blair. He leaned on the lacked door for a moment, contemplating his disobedient Companion and the Guide he held so tightly. Blair did not feel threatened or afraid of Rafe, maybe he felt a little nervous, but he also felt confident that Rafe wouldn't hurt him.

Jim's next words dispelled his sense of safety.

"Are you going to take him, Companion? Are you ready to Claim him?" Ellison said, and Rafe's reply was a warning growl. He held Blair so tightly that Blair felt all of his body keenly, pressed intimately together as they were. He was that quickly aware of Rafe's arousal. Hard and insistent against his hip.

"Your Guide is afraid. He is not prepared to be Claimed." Ellison said, his voice growing softer, quieter. Sending a tremor through the younger Sentinel that was directly transmitted to alarmed Blair.

The younger Sentinel was indeed ready to take Blair and mate him. He ground his erection into Blair's hip, his powerful hands holding Blair still. Blair panicked. He shoved frantically at the man who had been his perceived protector only seconds before.

"No!" He said, trying to scramble free. All the budding contentment he'd felt as Rafe kept the Vet away from him, offered him tea, evaporated. Rafe refused to let him go, bending over him, one hand finding Blair's bare hip under the folds of cloth. Blair kicked out.

And was lifted away. Up into the air. Enclosed in steel-hard arms. Set aside, as Ellison turned to deal with his clawing, hissing Companion. Rafe smashed into the taller man and they grappled. Blair didn't wait to see who won the struggle. He fled into the fragile safety of the bathroom, shutting and locking the door before sliding down to the floor and curling up on his side.

He lay there shaking, listening to the sounds of struggle in the room beyond the closed door.