Title: Clueless in Cascade
Author: akire
Email: akire@mailcity.com
Status: Complete/ Unbetaed
Category: Crossover: Highland/The Sentinel, part of my universe 
Spoilers: umm, got a basic grasp of the Highlander universe? Fine. Oh
yeah, we’re a Clan Denial fanfic. In The Sentinel, we pick up after
TSbBS. 
Disclaimers: D/P and Pet Fly really DO own them. If you don’t recognize
it, its probably mine. If it’s silly or crazy, definitely is mine. But
if anyone sends the lawyers after me, I’m sending out the boys with
swords ;) Oh yeah, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. 
Rating: PG, prob. Hey, I’m not offended by much, if it should be rated
higher, tell me! 
Content Warning: purists beware. Language may offend some readers. 
Summary: Blaer’s just musing about keeping secrets. 
Notes: Part of the series of snippet prequels to the ‘biggy’ of this
universe ;) 

That’s long enough. On with the show!

~~##~~

It was raining again, which was not an unusual occurrence in Cascade.
Blaer laid back on his bed in his little room under the stairs and
listened to the steady patter against the windows. The loft was quiet
on this lazy Saturday afternoon, Blair’s room mate out running errands
despite the weather. 

Jim Ellison. Sentinel, police detective, best friend, room mate.
Mortal. It was the last that had occupied Blaer’s thoughts of late. He
knew everything there was to know about Jim, from his shoe size to his
PIN. But Jim did not know even the most central fact about Blair. He
did not know that Blair could not die. 

It was not a secret Blaer shared easily. Mentally, he counted off the
mortals who knew. Joe Dawson, local chief Watcher and friend. Blaer’s
own Watcher, whose current identity he had yet to figure out. Tessa had
known who he truly was, but the beautiful artist was gone, stolen from
them all by a thug’s bullet. Naomi, the wandering free spirit who,
despite a deceptively flaky reputation, had been a steadfast friend.
During the sixties he had posed as her uncle, in the seventies her
brother. Now Naomi was playing his mother, and relishing the role by
showering her ‘son’ with all the love and affection in her huge heart. 

Three. Three living mortals knew who Blair Sandburg really was. He
rolled over to lay on his side. He trusted Jim, and more importantly,
Jim trusted him. He relied on Blair to maintain his control, and with
it his sanity. Even if he was sometimes an ass in showing it. Blair
snorted. 

Why couldn’t he just say it. Aloud, he spoke the words. “I am Immortal.
I do not age. I cannot die.” Automatically his eyes flicked to where
his sword lay, artistically concealed under a jacket. “But I can be
killed. I have killed.” He sighed and changed position yet again. If he
ever did work up the courage to have this conversation, that little
tidbit could wait. 

Instead, he cast his mind back three decades, to when he first met the
radiant, interesting teenager. He had been passing through town with a
bunch of friends who would later be known as hippies, on their way to
join others in San Francisco. The van had broken down in Hicksville,
and Blair had sat down in the shade of a tree to wait. Adults avoided
the stranger, children pointed and laughed, teenagers stared and tried
not to get caught. Strangers were rare occurrences, something to be
feared. 

But that wasn’t Naomi’s style. Her mind already far away, she had
approached him, as confident as could be, and introduced herself. The
next morning, when their happy van left, they had acquired a passenger.
She had treated him like a big brother and confidante, and somehow had
not been fazed in the slightest when he had staggered back into the
flat they all shared late on night, cloths torn and bloody, mind
reeling from the powerful Quickening he had taken. Naomi had understood
that he was different yet still just a guy. But then again, Naomi was
one of a kind. 

But, a little voice in his head sang out, isn’t Jim one of a kind as
well? 

The noise of keys in the lock, the door swinging open, yanked his
wandering mind back to reality. Blair pushed himself upright and went
into the main room. Jim, hair and jacket damp, was dumping his keys.
“Chief! Had a good afternoon? What have you been up to?” Jim smiled,
his expression one he reserved solely for Blair. 

Blair smiled in return. “Oh, not much. Just thinking.” 

He would tell Jim the truth. 

Just not today.