I am not making any money off this and am doing this out of pure pleasure that I receive from writing my stories. All recognizable characters from the shows Sentinel and Highlander belong to their respective powers that be. Any original characters belong to me.

Author's notes:

This is my story that is a sequel to The Past Revisited. The story is an AU of The Sentinel and Highlander: The series. Again, Blair is less nebbish and two of my favorite immortal characters make an appearance.

Please give reviews; constructive criticism only, flames will be ignored. Thanks!


Chapter One

I hate running! Why in the hell am I running, Blair thought as he chased a would-be bank robber down the street. Jim had yelled at him to keep on the guy while he cut over onto the next street, hoping to cut the suspect off.

He had always hated running, even as a child. Riding one of his father's horses had thrilled him beyond belief, long ago, and he only ran if his tutor had chased after him, wanting him to complete his studies. Now with modern conveniences, running was something he rarely did. He preferred his bicycle or his jeep any day to the annoying task of running.

They had stopped at the bank because Jim needed to turn in some paperwork for a home improvement loan. Pipes had burst and insurance would not cover all of the damage.

Blair came in with his partner and had been confronted with a robbery in progress. The robber took off when Jim identified himself as a cop, smashing past several terrified customers and tossed a pregnant woman at Blair. Blair caught the woman; more worried about her safety at that moment, and missed an opportunity to grab the criminal. As a result, he was forced to chase after the guy, on foot.

So intently was he focused on his prey, he did not see the blue Honda Civic until it was too late. Too late meaning he did not see it until it slammed into his body; he was projected up into the air and then smashed into the paved street.

He was killed instantly when his head slammed into the ground.

The driver of the car slammed on the breaks, tires squealing.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" the man said frantically, jumping out of his car. "He came out of nowhere!" he babbled, checking for a pulse and finding none.

"Help! Someone, help!" he screamed desperately, hoping someone would hear him. A man was dead, his fault, and there was no one to help. If he had been a lesser man, he would have gotten back into his car and drove off. Thanks to the high moral standards his adopted family had instilled in him, despite the fact that he worked in a sleazy industry, he knew that driving away would be the wrong thing to do.

Suddenly, Blair sat up, gasping for air. His eyes darted around frantically, taking in the small pool of his blood on the street and the ghost-white face of a man standing over him. Groaning, Blair quickly assessed his situation, got to his feet and ran.

In hindsight, it probably was not the best way to handle his predicament, but it was the one he chose. When asked later by Jim, Blair conceded that it would have been better to stay and deal with the situation at that time. However, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

Blair continued on his original path, pursuing the would-be bank robber. Eventually he caught up to the suspect, as Jim was handcuffing the guy and shoving him into a squad car. Super-cop does it again, Blair thought to himself, though without any malice towards Jim.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked, noticing the congealed blood along Blair's hairline, scuffed Doc's, and the dirt on his jeans, and the torn dark button-down shirt.

Blair muttered something about telling him later, as he dabbed at the drying blood with the tail of his shirt.

Once they had made their statements, Jim and Blair caught a ride back to the bank. Jim was able to conduct his business with the bank and a very grateful bank manager. The manager had promised that the paperwork would be taken care of immediately and that the bank would be calling by tomorrow, if not sooner.

When they had reached to privacy of the cab of the truck, Jim turned to his semi-ADD partner. "Do you want to tell me why your head was bleeding?" he asked, remembering that a part of Blair's immortality was a quick healing factor.

Blair grimaced in memory. The aches he had been feeling had long disappeared. "Okay," he said, fairly hyper, "I was following the robber, chasing him across the street on Antioch when this Honda comes speeding down the street and hits me."

"Did you get a look at the driver?"

"At first," he said sarcastically, "I got a better look at the front bumper, then the windshield, then nothing. Just my luck, I had to die in front of the guy. And even better, I came back to life in front of him."

"Well," Jim said, trying to keep from laughing, "what did you do next? What did you tell him?"

Blair avoided his partner's gaze. "I got up and took off. I did not have the time to sit there and explain things to the guy. Besides, I doubt I'll see him again."

"Probably won't," Jim agreed. "Let's go get some dinner, your treat of course," he then said, starting the motor.

"Sure," Blair said, searching for his wallet, wanting to see if he needed to stop at the ATM first (Jim had a hearty appetite, to say the least). "Oh shit," he exclaimed.

"Wallet gone Chief?"

"Yeah. I must have lost it when I was hit," he groused, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could my life get any more crappier?"