Disclaimer: Just borrowed, briefly
Warning/Notes: Standalone. AU. Sentinel-Guide "Bond" Story.
Sequel/Series: This is the follow-up to "Whispered"
Whispered 2: Heard
As his summer of travel came to a close, Blair tried to put his experiences into perspective. He'd enjoyed seeing bits of the country he'd never seen before, and, at first, talking to various folks at diners, on buses, in hotel lobbies, and in lines for movies and museums. He'd also come to some clear conclusions about his own abilities, recognizing in the middle of his travels that he was, most likely, a Guide.
The first time his smile and words had made folks stare at him, he'd thought he'd done something foolish or that his fly was open or something. The second time, he'd heard pleased little sighs and one small voice, wondering, "Guide." That day he'd spent at the public library, reading all he could about Sentinels and Guides and about the Guide voice phenomenon.
A talkative, open, friendly young man, he grew quieter as the summer progressed. The attention was startling and strange. He liked the idea that he could make others happy, but the way in which people reacted tended to make him nervous and shy, two things those who knew him best would never have thought possible.
Then, as he got off the bus back in Cascade, Washington, he found the reason for it all. Standing in the bus station, watching the buses come in, was a tall, military-looking man with short hair and piercing light blue eyes. He stood, arms crossed, leaning against a post.
Without a thought, Blair, bags in hand, walked up to the man and smiled brilliantly. "Sentinel? I hope you were waiting for me."
The most amazing sound caressed the older man's ears. It resonated in his heart, in his mind, and throughout his very skin. The sound waves swept across the entire station and, for once, the old grey building was home to something more than impatience and poverty and worry. Strangers smiled at one another. A pickpocket gave back the wallet he'd just taken. Crying babies soothed into sleep, cranky children sat quietly, and worn-out parents took deep breaths. Three drunks gave up alcohol, permanently.
"Yes," the Sentinel said, happily, emphatically. "I've been waiting for you."