Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The concept of the GDP, Dan Slater and the Cascade Clan are the property of Susan Foster. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. However this story and the dialogue do belong to the author. Please ask permission before posting it elsewhere.
A/N This is a multi fandom crossover between the Sentinel, NCIS, Stargate, set in a world where guides and sentinels are know and accepted. A one-shot at the moment, however there may be more later.
'' A sentinel or watchman is a person with a genetic advantage. Discovered by the famous explorer Richard Burton, a sentinel is an individual who possesses enhanced senses and a psychological imperative to protect. In order to process, the additional information perceived their brain utilises 80% of the available grey matter. However, due to the large amounts of data that are processed, a sentinel is prone to becoming lost in one sense. To combat this deficiency, nature provided a helpmate to call the sentinel back, when they were lost in their senses. The companion to the sentinel is genetically able to sense on an emotionally enhanced metaphysical bond, sentinels and call them back from the sense they are lost in. These individuals are also psychologically called to protect the tribe.'' Extract taken from The Sentinel by Dr Amanda Price.
The run from the Naval Yard to the Marine Corps Base in Quantico went quickly. It was an early summer evening bright with hope and the setting sun's rays. Special Agent Timothy McGee sat nervously outside the old Naval Academy building, in his car. Clenched tightly in his grasp was the soft leather of the steering wheel. Slowly taking any deep breath to dispel the lingering feelings of inadequacy and fear that plagued him. "I can do this," he thought, as he reminded himself that he didn't have a choice.
"Go get yourself a Guide, McGee." Gibbs had snapped after his junior agent had suffered a spate of sentinel zones possibly brought on by the stress of Kate's recent death. The young newly on-line sentinel had done the only reasonable thing he could do and after requesting time off had booked himself into the few guide and sentinel mixers in the state. Mc Gee sighed as he laid his head on the steering wheel.
"What guide would want a computer nerd for a sentinel? The universe must be laughing," he thought. "The son of two unbounded guides a low grade sentinel." Timothy's sentinel abilities were not rated as much more than slightly over the range of normal. To Timothy sometimes it felt as if he had been given all of the disadvantages and none of the advantages of being a Sentinel. Allergies check; zones check; protective instincts check; large body structure check; enhances senses... were short measure until the death of Kate. In fact up until recently the NCIS hadn't even utilised him as a field sentinel in the field. They still weren't really his use to the agency was more in the computer tech department. A gifted tech granted but a geek never the less. Steeling himself for an evening of disappointment, Tim left the relative protective safety of his car. Taking a moment to smooth down his best suit, he walked hesitantly through the car park, up the stairs and into the annual mixer for un-bonded sentinels and guides.
Guide and Sentinel Support Centre (GSSC) Liaison Daryl Banks watched from the edge of the stage as the guests filtered steadily in to graze at the generous buffet and mingle in the early part of the evening's meeting and greeting mixer. As this was taking place on the naval base there were a great deal of uniforms mixed in with the suits and dresses. Daryl moved smoothly through the crowd, soothing ruffled feathers were necessary; making introductions to facilitate the mingling of guides with sentinels and vice versa. There were naturally empaths and sentinels from all over Washington DC and the neighbouring states; but most had some interest or involvement in the Navy or Marines as part of the military itself or as a civilian wanting to be attached to a military guide or sentinel. As he mingled he couldn't help but think about the changes that had been brought in the world since the 1960 transformation of the old National Intelligence Department's American Guide Initiative (AGI) and the resurrection of the bill of Civil Rights for all of America's citizens including guides. Although there were still some diehard hardliners that resisted the new ways, today's empaths chose to be guides and had their rights protected under the same laws that governed the USA and in addition a separate Sentinel and Guide Court. The old days of forced bonding and virtual slavery of guides to sentinels had ended with people spearheading the reform from within the AGI itself and the growing support of the Sentinel and Guide Freedom Front change was on the cards. The political positioning of his grandfather, civil rights activist Lincoln Jefferey Banks and it moved quicker as legislation changed. The support of Dark Sentinel Senior Sentinel Prime and Dark Guide, Senior Guide Prime of the northern territories and it was a done deal. After it looked like most of the attendees had arrived he took his place on the stage.
"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, guides and sentinels. Welcome to the 21st annual Quantico Naval base Mixer. I am GSSC Liaison Officer Daryl Banks. I'd like to start this evening by offering those that need it the support of the centre to equip both bonded and non-bonded guides and sentinels now and for the future. Together we can..."
Turning to look at the stage Tim watched, as the charming tall African-American young man that had taken enough interest in the awkward agent to introduce him to three guides, spoke to them all. Early in the evening there had been Gilda, a fellow NCIS employee who was nice, but after a hopeful start had slowly lost interest in him as they had engaged in small talk and she'd caught the eye of a young Marine Corp Cadet. Later on in the evening Tim had conversed with Paula who was a young petty officer, who had smiled politely and stated truthfully that she was looking for a fellow naval officer to bond with. Currently, Rama at his elbow seemed the most promising, her soft laugh was quite enjoyable and from their conversation so far, things were going well. At the end of Daryl's speech the young agent turned back to continue his conversation with kindergarten teacher Rama Kaur.
"How long have you wanted to be a guide?"
"Oh well I guess, I used to watch that programme, on CBS. The one about the sentinel Cop and the Guide, that taught anthropology part-time as well as being his guide."
"Yes, as a kid I just wanted to do all the stuff that that guide did. With a strong brave sentinel that would always save me. You know? " Her brown eyes sparkled as she leaned into Tim's personal space showing her interest. She was much taken with the tall sentinel, although she told herself that she wanted a strong sentinel bond-mate she had been a little bit intimidated by some of the military specimens at the mixer. She felt quite at easy with this gentle agent.
McGee smiled. His life was sometimes like a TV show, not as naive as that 80s show, more late nights and things weren't always solved in 45 minutes but it was a good start. "I spent most of my teenage life watching the re-runs of that show." Their small talk continued to go well and Tim found himself loosening up properly for the first time that evening. He turned slightly and fumbled as he swiped a glass of wine from a young waiter's tray, as he passed them.
"I'm looking to continue to teach at the base's school. Would you be able to work around that Tim? ...Tim...are you ok?...Agent McGee." Rama's heart started to beat real fast when she realised that her former sentinel potential was staring glassily over her head.
Tim's senses had never been very acute although, recently since the death of Caitlin Todd, he had began to suffer sensory spikes and variation in his controls as her death seemed to have triggered a growth surge in his abilities but not in his control. He was surprised to catch a whiff of something so delightful that all his attention was on identifying that scent. Nutmeg, musk, sunlight and...
"Follow my voice, Agent McGee. Hear my voice." Rama was panicking. Instead of Guide Voice, her previously soft tones were now a mix of squawk and squeak. "TIM! " People were quickly beginning to notice that there was a problem with the young sentinel.
Tim began to lean slightly to the left as his zone became more prolonged. Stepping forward people began to support Tim as the un-bonded Rama stepped backwards to allow the more experienced bonded guides and sentinels through. A major zone could cause a sentinel to lose all connection with the world leading to a coma like state.
"Hang on to him I'll get a chair." Someone shouted as it became apparent that this could be a major zone out, which would mean hospitalisation for the sentinel.
"Is he breathing?"
"Is there a Sentinel trained first aider?"
"Lower him to the floor." Slowly this was done.
"Let me though," said a voice from the back as one of the catering staff hired for the event pushed his way through. "I have some medic training." The teenager knelt by the head of the sentinel and carefully shook the broad shoulders. "Sentinel can you hear me. If you can follow my voice back from wherever you are. Come on sunshine, can you blink those beautiful green eyes for me." A strong hand came to gently massage Tim's hands as the other lightly stroked his face. "Timothy?" The young face glanced up at the crowd questioning the name that he had heard screamed by the young Asian girl that had been by sentinel earlier and one of the onlookers nodded.
"Yes. It's Agent Timothy McGee of the NCIS." The evening's speaker Daryl Banks said.
"It's time to come back now Timothy." The soothing young teen repeated the words over as he continued his ministrations to the fallen sentinel. He watched carefully as the startling green eyes slowly began to focus on his. "That's it Tim." The waiter sat back as the agent became more aware.
The first thing that McGee became conscious of was the calming mellow voice the shimmered its way through his consciousness. Warmth spread through him from the healing skin to skin touch the gentle hand on his face and hand produced. Tim found himself looking into deep brown chocolate eyes. "...honey." He said as he became aware of the scent that had sent him into major zone, somewhere it became catalogued as home/safe. The brown eyes looked slightly confused, then amused.
"If you say so...dear!" Moving to stand the teenager offered his hand to Tim as the others respectfully moved away to allow the sentinel to centre himself and reduce the stimuli of his surroundings. Rama who had drifted to the back of the crowd made a life changing decision. Quickly fleeing the scene and the building, she realised that maybe she needed to give the life of a guide more thought.
'' It wasn't like TV at all,'' she thought as she got in to her little yellow car.
Timothy held the hand offered but didn't let go as he stood. All around him noises, smells suddenly came into focus. "NCIS Sentinel Junior Agent Timothy McGee."
"Your waiter for the evening," was the amused reply.
"You're a guide?"
The brown eyes narrowed as they looked at the quickly recovering agent that had somehow failed to release his hand. "Yes. You're at a mixer you were probably looking for a guide. I think I saw her high tail it out of here when she couldn't help you with the zone. I'm sure there are..."
"No. I mean I think, I..I..think you're m,my guide." Tim stuttered a little as he said the possessive.
Jon pulled his hand from the greedy sweaty grasp of the sentinel he'd just helped. "I'm not your guide," he said gruffly.
"You don't want me." Tim stood there looking and feeling as if he had just been kicked in the stomach. Somewhere in the back of his mind a primitive watchman roared in pain. Rejected?
"Take it easy friend. There are lots of guides here and..." The young voice trailed off and Tim watched as the previously open face became pensive. "I don't want to bond with anyone. I'm new to this guide stuff you and I like my own natural barriers just fine thanks, I'm sorry. There are a lot of people here just right for you. You should mingle." With that said he turned and walked away without looking back.
"I'm sure that you're the one." Tim watched as the boy turned away from him and melted into the crowd. He knew that if this young teenager didn't agree to become his guide then he would leave tonight without one, Gibbs would not be pleased. Looking around the room, Timothy realised that the young waiter had made such an impression that all the other potential guides had faded into the background. To pick another tonight wouldn't be possible. Never had he ever felt this alive. In the few moments, he'd been with the waiter he had felt as if he were newly online. Feeling more determined than he had before Tim strode after the disappearing boy, the sentinel part of his brain that McGee had always thought absent, was now awake and hunting. "Mine...mine...mine." The rational part of Agent McGee was switched off as the sensory input from the environment began hitting him stronger than before, he was overwhelmed with the input. The fibres from his shirt rubbed against his skin like sand. The current and whirls of air buffered against his body. The overpowering mix of scents and smells that rolled off the various people in the room was taken in as he subconsciously sorted though it for the rich scent of his guide. Sifting through the data, there that was it. Voices were catalogued and discounted until there was a hit. Homing in on the target McGee stalked forward.
Gilda Williams turned as the young agent she had been talking to earlier walked passed, she'd thought him as too weak and geeky before, but now she was reanalysing the look in his eyes and the way he stalked around was a lot more like the strong sentinel that she was seeking. Maybe she needed to give him a second interview. Edward the marine she had been talking too touched her arm, by the time she'd let carefully dismissed him and turned back to her quarry the agent had slipped out the back. It didn't matter she knew where she could find him.
Jonathan O'Neill leaned casually against the post as the last of the catering equipment was packed away. It had been a long evening and he felt tired, two part-time jobs and school were taking their toll. The rent and utility bills were putting a strain on his resources. Since moving from Colorado six months ago things hadn't been improving much until he'd managed to wrangle a series of part time jobs. Life didn't seem to be too kind to a 17 year old emancipated minor with no family ties or local references. High school was a chore; real teenagers were self-absorbed, obnoxious, loud and petty. The only good thing about this year was that he been able to accelerate into the final year. Come July and he was out of there but what then? Since he had been created 2 years ago he'd drifted through a new life that didn't fit him. Jon was no longer needed by anyone. At first he had tried to fit in, treating it like an away mission, but it wasn't enough. The discrepancy between a 50 year old man and 15 year old children, who were now peers, was such that the weird kid that didn't quite fit in and found himself isolated. He was not just a loner, he was alone, no team, no military, no mission, nothing. It was hard to fight life when there was no obvious foe and no stakes other than for his personal acceptance. Without a worthwhile goal, it was hard to keep going.
Feeling the hair on the back of his neck stick up he casually looked over his shoulder, the sentinel from earlier was over by the far side of the building watching him again. Closing his eyes for a second he remembered the moment of connection they had shared earlier in the evening. For a moment he had had something, the promise of something more. A new life? Not one that he would have chosen but the life he had at the moment wasn't life. It was just the habit of survival. Looking at the green eyed agent that had been around him all evening Jon felt himself smile. Colonel Jack O'Neill had never been an empath, didn't have the gene but Jon did it. He'd known something had been different after waking up when Thor had fixed his genetic code. Apparently fixing had entailed splicing DNA from somewhere else to cover the Asgard tagged site in the original's genes. Jack hadn't had much time for the military guides that he had met over the years feeling distrustful but respectful of their touchy, feely, mental, swirly whirly powers. Shaking his head Jon let a small laugh escape at his position in this new reincarnation. "Talk about karma, the universe must be laughing." He commented as he walked towards the sentinel, potentially his sentinel. Well at least this was something he had been drowning in the nothing.
Sitting quietly in Tim's car in the lay-by overlooking the lake the two young men chewed slowly on the last of the left over buffet food Jon had scrounged of the catering boss. The early morning sunrise was accompanied by mild summer breeze. The gentle breeze constantly moved the tree branches that grew in the park. It truly completed the tranquil atmosphere of the base. Jon cleared his throat as he disturbed the comfortable silence between them. "We should be getting back. I've got to notify school, you have to tell your boss and we still have to drive back."
There was a small smile from Timothy before the reply, "Yeah. We should be getting back, but unless you have any wish to bond out here in the open, Jon? Wild and natural like."
"Your place'll do, Oh big and powerful sentinel."
"Big and powerful? Tell me more, oh slightly delusional guide."
"Your wish is my command, oh king of the senses." Timothy chuckled as he collected the litter from their impromptu picnic. They had spent last night, talking and discussing aspects of their life and their hopes for their new partnership. The NCIS agent had rarely felt so at ease in the presence of someone who wasn't a member of his family. In the wee hours of the morning, lying there, under the stars, he had found Jon to be knowledgeable and wise, yet still able to enjoy the irrelevant topics they occasionally spoke about during the night. He was so caught up in the wonder of his new guide that he didn't consider the reaction of his teammates or Gibbs, to his young guide. Tim yawned and stretched as his body woke up properly to the new day before him.
Possibly just a one-shot or a series of one-shots, and there is the possibility of a Gibb's reaction instalment too. I'm trying to get the old juices flowing again.