BUREAUCRATIC ERROR
BY
XmagicalX

The story:

This is a silly bit of fluff.  It's also a small cross-over;
I'm dealing with the loss of two favorite shows, The
Sentinel (okay, it's not over yet, we hope...but it's on the
edge, especially if they make this disaster permanent) and
Highlander.  Definite spoilers for Sentinel Too (TS's finale) and sort
of spoilers for the finale of HL, too.  Think it would help if you were
familiar with TS to get this one, but you never know...anyhow, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: None of them are mine, and I'm not making a red cent or a
plugged nickel.  Have fun!

    XmagicalX

Blair whirled around, wondering how one told which way was
up amidst the shadowless brilliance.  Ah, that would help.
A desk, an enormous gracefully curved front desk as one
would find at a truly classy hotel.  Except the hypothetical
hotel's would be wood, not that odd, beautiful silver.

The woman behind the desk didn't look up from her computer
screen. "Over there," she instructed him in a musical alto,
gesturing vaguely with one slender hand.

He looked. "Over there?" Disbelievingly.

"Yes, into that tunnel."

"But--what's going on? Where am I?"

"They answer all your questions inside.  I'm just the
receptionist." Still not looking up. "Pete's only on-duty
Sunday afternoons, if that's who you were expecting.--"

"I wasn't expecting anybody!" Blair assured her. "But, I
can't go through that tunnel."

The woman finally looked up.  Soft black eyes flicked from
him to the tunnel entrance, then widened. "Ah.  I see."

"You see.  Good." Progress of sorts.  "Now what do I do?"

She seemed at a loss. "I don't know, I'm new at this,
haven't seen this before."  Together they eyed the large
gray wolf sprawled in front of the entrance.  Its pink
tongue lolled out between its canines, and intelligent
golden eyes met theirs calmly.

Experimentally Blair took a step toward the tunnel.  The
wolf's head raised and an unmistakable warning growl issued
from its ruffed throat.  Blair hastily took back the step.
He glanced to the receptionist, who seemed to be making a
deliberate effort not to look at him as she picked up a
white telephone and dialed.  Soon enough she slammed it
down, complaining, "Damned demons, switchboard's always busy."

"So now what?" He didn't want to be stuck here forever,
particularly not without his own celphone, which he had
checked for and found missing.  Jim must be getting worried--

That was an odd thought; why would Jim be worried? He hadn't
been here very long...had he? How had he gotten here? Sudden
flash of memories, Alex, Jim standing freezing in the empty
loft, Jim talking about trust, Alex saying something about
regret, a gun...

Oh God.  He couldn't be.  No wonder Jim would be worried...

"Is there a problem here?" a voice called.

Blair looked up.  Someone was coming from the direction he
thought--suspected he himself had arrived from.  Average
looking older blond man, vaguely familiar perhaps.
Wearing a dark coat and slacks and proceeding in their
direction. "I say, you're looking rather boggled, what's up?"

"That, sir." The receptionist pointed at the wolf.

The man blinked at it. "Oh, I see.  I take it, dear boy,
that you're expected to walk through the tunnel past that
carnivorous creature?"

Blair nodded.  "Apparently."

"Well, we'll have to see about this." The man shrugged and
headed toward the animal.  As he approached the wolf rose to
its not inconsiderable four-footed height.  It must weigh a
good two hundred pounds, Blair estimated, and all of it
muscle mass.  Or teeth.

The newcomer did not appear especially wary of its bulk or
its fangs.  When the wolf snarled, his eyebrows went up, but
that was all.  Then in one swift motion he drew his sword.

A real sword, not an avenger's spear or some symbolic play-
toy.  This was a good four feet of glittering well-polished
steel, which the man held with the ease of experience.  "Go
on, now, shoo, let him by," he informed the wolf, wiggling
the blade at it.

The canine growled again, and then barked, though Blair
thought he had read that wolves didn't bark.  The man rocked
back on his heels, resting on his sword like a cane. "Oh
my," he remarked, as if answering.  "All right, I'll see
what I can do." The sword disappeared back to where ever it
had emerged, and the man came back to them.

"There's a glitch," he announced.

"And you're here to fix it?" Blair inquired hopefully.

"Actually I'm just coming back from an assignment," he was
told.  "But I'll see if I can be of service here.  My dear
lady, if you would allow me..." He slipped behind the desk.
Obediently the receptionist stepped aside and let him at the
computer.

He typed hurriedly, frowned at the results, tried typing
something else.  The computer beeped loudly twice then
squealed, and he jumped back as if he'd been burned.
"Infernal machines, never could figure them out," he
muttered.  Then turned to the woman. "Would it be at all
possible for you to apply those lovely fingers to this
keyboard?"

The receptionist looked worried. "I'm not supposed to be
accessing subject files from here."

"But you do know how, while I remain ignorant." He took the
aforementioned lovely fingers in his own hands. "I would be
eternally grateful, as I'm sure this young man here would be
as well.  I'm not asking you to sin, just to move around the
rules.  As a favor." He gazed at her with earnest blue eyes.

Blair, who had been known to bat his own baby blues if the
need arose, admired the man's technique.  The woman sighed,
then bent over the computer.  The man smiled at her
gratefully, "I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Truly your spirit is beautiful through and through--"

"Excuse me." Blair felt almost guilty at interrupting the
other's play.  The man looked up straight away, though, not
appearing angry.  "Are you--" Well, that was a ridiculous
question.  But he didn't look anything like Gabriel, so...
"You're not Michael, are you?"

"No, oh no," chuckled the man. "Hugh, Hugh Fitzcairn.
Pleased to meet you, Mr.--"

"Sandburg." Blair shook the offered hand with a smile.
"Blair Sandburg.  Listen, Hugh--"

"Fitz, dear boy, my friends call me Fitz.  Unless of course
you prefer Hugh--" The last was directed not at Blair but at
the receptionist, who didn't hear it, focused as she was on
the computer screen.  Fitz sighed. "Much as I admire a
dedicated woman..."

"Fitz," asked Blair, "how long is this going to take? Not to
be rude, but..."

"You have other engagements?" Fitz winked at him. "No
worries, this is a mere error, we'll rectify it.  Shouldn't
be too long, once we find the problem."

"How long?" Blair pressed. "I don't mean to be rude, but,
well..."  Didn't want to keep Jim in suspense for too long.
He suspected it wasn't good for his heart.

"Are you married? A wife waiting for you, perhaps?" Fitz
guessed.

Blair shook his head. "No, couple of girlfriends, maybe, but
it's a friend of mine I'm worried about.  He--" This sounded
so hokey, so trite. "We're close.  He gets upset if stuff
happens to me, I mean, same thing for me if something
happens to him, we're...I just don't want to worry him." A
laughable excuse to want to get this over with.  For all
that it was the true one.

But Fitz was nodding understandingly.  "I have a friend or
two myself," he said.  "Was just visiting him, actually. Sure
they can get by without you, but do you or they want to--"

The computer chittered and the receptionist leaned back.
"Got it," she announced.  Fitz bent over her shoulder,
glanced down once and then concentrated on the screen.

"Ah, I see, I--oh my.  This was a rather major faux pas,
wasn't it." He looked up past Blair to the wolf, calling to
the animal "Thank you so very much!" Shaking his head, "Oh
dear, if this had passed...not to worry, my boy, we'll put
this right right away."

"What?" Blair's curiosity got the best of him.  Excitedly he
watched Fitz type away at the keyboard.  "What's going on?"

"I'm sending an electronic memo, they'll take care of this
the moment they get it," Fitz explained, whether to Blair or
to the receptionist or to the wolf was unclear.  "Any moment
now--" The computer clicked. "Ah, you must appreciate
computers' speed, though.  Even if they do mess around with
dates.  Who mis-entered the century, I wonder? They aren't
going to be happy..."  Striding out from behind the desk he
headed away from the tunnel.  Turned and gestured. "Good-
bye, dear lady, I'll be with you shortly.  Now come along,
my boy, we've got to get you back."

Blair hurried after him. "What'd you find out?"

"You didn't mention who your friend was," Fitz said,
sounding slightly accusing. "Of course I should have
recognized you, but I was still wrapped up with that whole
affair with MacLeod--really, if you had just said you were a
Guide you'd be back by now."

"A Guide--you know about that?"

"Of course I do.  Sentinels, Guides, they aren't commonplace
enough to forget, and we keep close watch on all of our
best." Fitz rolled his eyes. "This is all our fault, of
course.  Don't know what it is about now, it seems that more
mistakes happen in May than any other month of the year.
Springtime distracts everybody I suppose.  That whole mess
with Richie last year, and Mac now.  Not to mention that
poor FBI agent.  Then there was the fiasco with that
detective, what was it, Nicholas something, that took some
fixing, let me tell you.  And now you here--what are we
coming to?"  He sighed and stopped walking. "Well, I suppose
if we put it right again..."

Halting in the middle of bright white emptiness, Blair
realized they had lost sight of the desk and receptionist.
Hazy grayer shapes seemed to be trying to take form around
him.  "Go on," Fitz told him. "Get back where you belong.
That is..." He hesitated. "If you want to go back," he said
at last.

"What?"

"Our error, your choice.  I fixed the technicalities but if
you want you can stay here...I can't guarantee the wolf will
be happy, but it's your decision."

"To stay here or go back?" As if that was a tricky decision
to make. "I have a lot of unfinished business, Fitz."  Not
to mention a partner who was probably a tad anxious by now.

Fitz beamed. "Thought you'd say something like that, just
had to ask. Unions rules and such.  Just look up."

"What?"

"Look up, it's not that hard."

"Okay." Doubtfully Blair tilted his head back, looked up at
the uniform light...

And he was squinting at the piercing glare of the sun, a
sharp stabbing pain in his side, lungs choking on the air
they demanded.  He coughed, winced at the agony, half-
wondering if he wouldn't have been better off returning with
Fitz and facing off with that wolf.

Then Jim's square profile blocked the sunlight, his shadowed
eyes wide, mouth literally hanging open.  "Blair?"  Strong
hands grasped his shoulders. "My God, Blair?"

Pain or no pain, it was worth coming back to hear his voice,
and somewhere he knew that Fitz was grinning almost as
widely as himself.  Not as hugely as Jim was now.  But close
enough, with all the deserved satisfaction of righting an
obvious error.

fini