Chapter 6

ooo

The angels heralding Jesus' birth could hardly have been much more enthusiastic than Tony was, heralding the arrival of the pizza.

"Pepperoni, sausage, extra-cheese… And then there's just plain ol' cheese for those of us with less refined tastes." Tony seemed to consider what he'd just said in light of his, and Jim's, abilities, chuckling as he set the boxes down with a flourish.

"Our meetings seem to have a decidedly food-based theme," Jim observed, as he made his selection. "Not that I'm complaining."

Gibbs emerged from the kitchen with four beers, tops wedged between his fingers.

"Well, no one can say no to pizza," Tony agreed, his beaming smile approving Jim's apparent shared preference for meat-topped pizza.

Actually, though, Blair could have, and often did say no to things like pizza, but the years of eating Jim's junk food were rubbing off on him. He took a slice of cheese, and wondered to himself if there was some inherent love for greasy food in Sentinels' genetic makeup. Or maybe it was just a male Sentinel thing—he didn't know what Alex's food preferences had been. That led to wondering what the "ancient" Sentinels might have considered good eating. If there was any uniformity of inclination at all, that was… He might have two Sentinels to observe, but he was far from being able to take any general surveys, or gather universal, all-inclusive information.

"Chief, you're getting that look."

Jim's voice brought him back, and Blair shook himself. "Huh?"

"Yeah," Jim insisted. "What's the theory this time?"

Well, Jim's unhealthy eating habits might be rubbing off on him, but it was a two-way street. They were both getting pretty used to each other. "Theories, but no tests," Blair promised with a smirk. "I was just thinking about how much I can already tell you two have in common."

Jim and Tony glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, and simultaneously down at the slices of pizza they'd been eagerly consuming.

"Yeah, anyways…" Blair continued. "It kind of made me think about Alex."

Jim raised an eyebrow humorously at that. "Thinking of some similarities there, too?"

"Alex?" Gibbs asked, after taking a draught of his beer.

"Another Sentinel," Blair explained. "And no, it wasn't any similarity that brought her to mind, Jim."

Tony looked back and forth between Jim and Blair. "Her? I'm sensing a story, here…"

"Uh, yeah, there is, and it probably goes just about like you're thinking it does, only a lot worse," Blair said dryly. He tried to think of a way to put this delicately for Jim's sake.

"I was stupid enough to get first blindly furious and then blindly infatuated with her, and as a result just about got Blair killed," Jim spoke up bluntly.

"It wasn't you, man, you had no idea." Blair wondered how many times he was going to have to say that. It had already been years, but something told him Jim would probably always feel some guilt over it. Still, Blair would never stop trying to get it through his thick skull. "It was Alex that tried to drown me…"

"Hold on a minute," Gibbs interjected.

"Drown?" Tony said, almost at the same time.

Blair winced. Right, their audience might be finding this conversation just slightly alarming. "I really should have said something about this sooner…"

"Sounds like it." Gibbs fixed him with what Blair was learning to interpret as a look that demanded full explanations, preferably sans too much unnecessary chatter

"It's about pheromones between Sentinels, and the fact that theses pheromones have a more intense effect on them. Alex and Jim…well, they kinda alternated between trying to kill each other and being pretty strongly attracted to each other, and on a more heightened and primal level than normal, as Sentinels. It blinded both of them to just about everything but each other for a while."

"You seem like a nice guy, Jim, and no offence, but I really doubt we're going to have the same problem, at least not the part about…" Tony trailed off sheepishly under Gibbs' quelling look.

"There's no way for me to know whether the degree to which they were attracted to each other is normal or not, but I tend to doubt it is." Blair shook his head. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, Alex Barnes was far from your model citizen, so that also complicated things."

"Where is she now?" that, again, from Gibbs.

"Dead," Jim replied succinctly, apparently with zero intention to elaborate.

"You have to keep in mind that Alex was a she," Blair asserted quickly. "Obviously, we're dealing with a very different situation with Jim and Tony. The thing is, there could still be some instincts between them of a more…territorial nature."

"Territorial. Like dogs?"

Blair was pretty sure that, although he did sound faintly mocking, Gibbs primarily asked with a blunt aim for confirming and clarifying facts. His comparison still received narrow-eyed expressions from the two Sentinels present.

"Sort of," Blair replied, as diplomatically as possible. "Jim's already been acting a little different around Tony—"

"What?" Jim exclaimed. "I have not been…" He looked less certain a second later. "Have I?"

"I hate to point it out, Jim, but you did threaten to kill them the first time we met," Blair observed mildly. "Granted, that's not entirely out of the range of normal behavior for you…" That earned him a look from Jim, which he ignored. "But you're tense, man. General stress could be a big part—"

"I'm not stressed," Jim objected.

"Well, in that case, I guess it must be purely territorial impulses, then." Blair addressed Gibbs before Jim could argue further. "On the whole, though, they seem to be getting along fine—"

"You don't need to make it sound like we're kindergarteners." This time it was Tony who indignantly cut him off.

Blair took the liberty of ignoring that. "Tony, here, might not be in tune enough with his abilities yet to be sensing the presence of another Sentinel, and—or—he might be too distracted by trying to figure out all the jumbled messages his senses must be sending him right now. Or…"

"Yes?" Gibbs prompted. "Or?" The way he'd been coolly ignoring Jim and Tony's protestations told Blair he was used sorting through conversations to the essential purpose, without being overly diverted by distractions. Especially ones of the DiNozzo snarking-and-whining variety.

"Or," Blair answered. "his Sentinel instincts could still be waxing and waning at times—not fully online—and his instinct to, well…eliminate Jim from his territory could have yet to surface."

"It's not like this is exactly my 'territory'." Tony gestured around at Gibbs' domain. "But I haven't been barking or snarling at any of neighbors back at the apartment." He pretended to reconsider, and then shook his head. "Nope, no complaints for those precise problems."

"DiNozzo."

"Shutting up, Boss," Tony replied promptly to Gibbs' warning, and took a large bite of pizza.

Gibbs sighed, rising and muttering something about "coffee" as he strode off.

Blair decided there was a conversation he needed to have, and rose as well. To Jim and Blair, he said a little over-cheerfully in parting, "Okay, I think it's time for a little…Sentinel bonding. Just, no killing, all right? Jim, you're the pro, here, so restrain yourself."

"This rabid dog is restraining himself as we speak, Chief." Jim was deadly sarcastic, and Tony was not the recipient of his glare.

When he entered the kitchen, Blair found Gibbs leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. He looked like he'd been waiting for Blair.

Gibbs took a drink, watching him. "Parent-teacher conference?"

"Uh…yeah, something like that." More like parent-parent conference, maintaining the analogy of Tony and Jim as kids. Thinking about Jim, Blair thought to add, sotto voice, "Jim, no eavesdropping. Pay attention to the other Sentinel, now…" Play nicely, like a good Sentinel…

Gibbs didn't look exactly like he thought Blair had lost his mind.

Blair chuckled. "He can be a little paranoid about keeping tabs on me, when I'm with someone he's not sure he trusts. Just didn't want the kiddies listening in." He emphasized kiddies, hoping that Jim was listening in, and gave a last warning, "I'll fill you in later, Jim—give me just a little privacy, here."

"He can do that? Just listen in to what's going on this far away, without undue side-effects?"

Blair looked at Gibbs in surprise, then realized the other man was coming from a totally different place than he and Jim were at—but they'd been there. "You mean zoning? Nah, Jim hasn't done that in…well, it must be at least a couple of months. And before that, the last time it wasn't too serious. He was only 'gone' for a minute. Ironically, it was pizza that did it. Long story, but anyway. When he's hungry, I think he becomes a little more primal about going after smells. Oh, ah, don't let him know I said that…"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Man, this guy was a little unnerving. Blair couldn't tell if his dead-pan answers meant he was laughing with him—without giving any outward hints—or perpetually bored of him. Or, at least bored with his rambling style of talking. At least he seemed to genuinely want more information from him, and appreciate, and want to cooperate with, his attempts to help.

"You want to say something in private to me, Sandburg?"

"Yeah, I do." Blair decided he didn't have any choice. His rambling might seem superfluous, but that was how he explained things, and he wasn't going to try to change for this guy. Why had the thought even occurred to him? Sure, Gibbs seemed to have a notable ability to command his underlings' obedience, but Blair had never been one to be impressed by rank alone, and he was so not starting now, however intimidating the guy could be. Good grief, he was way worse than Simon, and that was saying something. Though he wasn't really sure that Gibbs even meant to be intimidating. But no, no way was he letting himself be cowed into quiet deference. That conscious decision made, he felt himself emboldened to speak bluntly. "It's not really so much that Tony shouldn't hear this… I just thought you might appreciate hearing it first. Your opinion on things seems to carry a lot of weight with him, and if you decide you're going to take charge of this, he's gonna follow, man."

"Take charge in what way, exactly?"

"In being his Guide."

"Guide?" Gibbs repeated, seeming to test the word suspiciously.

"I can't be absolutely sure about it, but I think you are. You see, every Sentinel is prone to things like zones, spikes…"

"Spikes?"

In many ways, despite his impassive, hard-to-read expressions, Gibbs was a dream come true to someone like him. He always seemed to have questions, want the details, and answering was one of the things Blair loved best. "They're kind of the opposite of zones, where instead of getting all happily lost and oblivious while focused on something, a Sentinel has one, or more, of his senses involuntarily go into overdrive. They're extremely painful, and can be overwhelming to the point where they can't pull themselves back to 'normal' levels."

At last, an expression from Gibbs. Or, at least, a brief flicker of comprehension. "Can it happen to more than two senses at a time?"

"Theoretically, all of them could." Blair winced in recollection of times when Jim's senses had spiked. Definitely one of the worst things to watch happen to your Sentinel. He looked curiously at Gibbs. "Tony's spiked?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Blair decided to back off on that one for now. Gibbs didn't appear willing to share the details, and he didn't look like the kind of man you could force things from. "Anyway, that's why Sentinels need Guides. They need someone to pull them back, and ground them. Someone who knows them, and is there to watch their back, especially when they're in circumstances where zones and spikes—or just distractions—have the potential to get them killed." Gibbs took a long drink of coffee, his face not revealing what he was thinking, but Blair could tell he was listening. "In Jim's line of work, there are a whole of times like that, and not much room for error. I'm guessing a day with NCIS is pretty similar."

Gibbs mouth curved wryly. "Good guess."

"Smells like blood, sights like shattered glass, things like sirens… It's all an issue for him now. I get that you'd both rather get rid of this, but at the moment that's not an option, and even if he quit NCIS, or got a desk job…" Blair shook his head. "There'll always be risks for him that most people won't, and can't, know about."

Gibbs seemed to consider for a moment, but didn't answer directly. "You said you weren't sure I was his Guide."

"Well, it could be someone else… Can you think of someone closer to him, who might fit the position better? Family?"

"No family."

Another question for another time. "Abby could be, I suppose. But I'm guessing she's not out in the field with him?" Gibbs shook his head. "And that's when he'd be the most vulnerable. Look, man, I know it's a huge responsibly, and it's a lot to process…"

"It's up to DiNozzo."

Blair thought it was funny he should say that, considering that in most things it at least seemed as if Gibbs took the lead, and Tony jumped, often literally, to follow. "I think it's one of those things you're gonna have to do for his own good, whether he wants it at first or not," Blair said quietly.

Gibbs gave a non-committal grunt in response, and inhaled more of his drug-of-choice.

"Seriously, he's going to need watching out for…"

"He's watched out for."

The adamancy and immediacy of his reaction caught Blair by surprise. It wasn't as if he'd been acting exactly indifferent about Tony's plight, but Blair hadn't gotten this direct, or vocalized, a glimpse of Gibbs' concern before. It was definitely reassuring, and only confirmed Blair's suspicions. If only he could get the guy to follow those protective instincts: ta-da, instant Guide material. Blair supposed now was as good a time as any to raise another awkward subject—he already had Gibbs brisling slightly, better get it all out at once. "If Tony works at it, he will get better at controlling things. But until then, practically speaking, as far as living arrangements go, he really needs some…"

"Baby-sitting."

Blair smiled. Yeah, definitely Guide material. "Exactly."

"I'm already ahead you, there." This time, Blair knew Gibbs' expression in return—as unguarded a smile as he'd seen from him yet—was with him.

ooo

Eating pizza and drinking beer in silence suited them both fine for the first five minutes, but when neither Blair nor Gibbs showed any sign of returning soon, Tony took it upon himself to break the ice.

"Um, I'm not going to…you know, go all 'territorial' and try to kill you or anything." On second thought, Tony realized that it was no use trying to sound certain of something he was unsure of, not when he was talking to perhaps one of the only people who did know first-hand about this wacko stuff. Genuinely wondering, and a little worried, he revised, "I'm not, am I?"

Jim apparently saw no reason to sugar-coat things. He shrugged. "Who knows."

"Well, like I said, it's not really like you're in my territory…"

"Actually, Blair seems to think that the boundaries of a Sentinel's territory generally include their entire 'village'—in a manner of speaking."

"Village?" Tony echoed in bemusement.

"The people you care about and are responsible for. By extension, your city. Sandburg also has a theory about modern-day Sentinels, or at least this modern-day Sentinel, and what their role as village protector," Jim said it in a self-mocking Neanderthal voice, "would look like translated today. I guess law-enforcement does make sense when you think about it from that angle…"

"Wait a minute—city? You mean…"

"Yeah, that would mean the whole of Washington, D.C. is probably your turf. Maybe more of the surrounding area, too. Lucky you."

Tony whistled softly. "Wow… So, until you're really gone from these parts, I guess I'm gonna have to tamp down on any homicidal urges I might have in your direction."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that. I'll try not to aggravate things by encroaching, but something tells me your Guide's not the sort most Sentinels would try to steal even if they could…"

Tony blinked at him. "Steal? Uh...'my Guide'?"

"Oh, I didn't mean that in the literal sense. Not…really someone who can belong to you. I just meant…you know, Guides." Tony stared at him, nonplused, and Jim tried again, "Guides and Sentinels, they get pretty close. They have to be, or they'd kill each other, as different as they can be from each other." He obviously spoke from experience. "Well, sometimes you still might come close to it, but after a while…you can't imagine not having them there to watch your back. Another Sentinel could be seen as a threat—you know?"

Tony did begin to see. Sort of. He knew that Blair was Jim's "Guide", Abby had told him some of this before, and it made about as much sense to him as his being a Sentinel at all did. What he wasn't getting here was how this Guide stuff related to him. "I don't have a Guide."

"Sure about that?" Jim asked casually, tipping back his beer for the dregs.

"Um…I think I would've noticed if I'd picked up someone like Sandburg." Tony shrugged. "And so far, no, I can't say I've noticed too many people following me around, volunteering for the job of my devoted side-kick." It was a bit unfair to Abby to say that, he supposed. She did, after all, spoil him, and treat him with far more loyalty than he deserved. But considering her as a possibility was asking her to take a huge burden, taking for granted that she'd want the responsibility, just because she liked him and actually showed it. It seemed like a pretty large assumption to make, and especially selfish considering he himself didn't want to shoulder the burden of being a Sentinel in the first place. It was pretty much selfish no matter who he tried to think of for the role. Even the Probie didn't quite deserve that.

"Sandburg isn't the definition of a Guide, you know," Jim remarked, smirking lightly. "What about your boss?"

Tony hardly knew how to respond to that oh-so-oblivious question. "Gibbs?"

"Why not? You two have a lot more in common than Sandburg and I ever will, that's for sure."

"He's…"

"He's what?"

Tony didn't know how to explain exactly. The guy didn't know Gibbs. "He's Gibbs."

"Yeah, so everyone calls him," Jim said sarcastically. "But he obviously cares a lot about what happens to you. Sandburg thinks he's your Guide, and being Guide himself, I wouldn't be surprised if he's right. Besides, Sandburg's usually just…right. " A little sheepishly, "But don't let him know I said that, huh?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tony gave a smile that wasn't quite up to its usual brilliance, still processing what Jim had said. "You really think he's my Guide?" He chose not to read a whole lot into the observation that Gibbs cared a lot about what happened to him. He was on Gibbs' team, of course he cared… He watched out for his own.

"Just because you admire him, doesn't mean he couldn't be."

Tony looked up sharply at that. "I don't…" But he did. A lot. And he was aware that right then, the way he couldn't quite meet Jim's eyes, must've made it easily apparent. For the most part, he took a sort of pride in his admiration for Gibbs, and in displaying it openly. He was a worthy object for allegiance, after all. But sometimes it also made him feel terribly vulnerable when practical strangers picked up on it so quickly. Was he that transparent about everything?

Jim raised his hands in placation. "Hey, I admire Sandburg. Sentinels might have the most obvious abilities, but I'm telling you, Guides have their own super-powers. It can be kind of freaky. No way would I ever call him my side-kick. It's not like being a Guide is signing up for life-long servitude. We're partners in this."

To someone less frank, Tony's response might've been something cynical: Well, isn't that just sweet, the two of you getting along so wonderfully, treating each other as equals… But he wasn't getting that aggravating feeling he got when he knew someone was trying to sell him something. If Jim was trying to convert him, it was because he was sold on this Guide-Sentinel thing himself.

"Well, whatever… It's not like it's my choice."

Jim, wisely, let it drop, and not much later Gibbs and Sandburg rejoined them. The anthropologist kept conversation flowing with ease, not dominating, but at the same time filling up any pauses that might have otherwise been uncomfortable.

Despite what he'd said to Jim, Tony found himself wondering about who his Guide could be. If not Gibbs, or Abby, was there anyone else? He came up with a marked dearth of possibilities, which was a little embarrassing. Maybe he didn't have one.

The talk around him was temporarily flowing over his head. No matter how much Sandburg's knowledge was relevant to his situation, there was only so much you could listen to in one sitting. What didn't pass Tony's notice was the sound of raised voices outside. Trouble? Tony automatically tuned in, quickly realizing that, although loud, the voices were laughing, not angry. It sounded like a couple of guys, teenagers, maybe three, or four…

"DiNozzo."

He was made aware of the familiar pronunciation of his name, in a familiar voice, followed by a whack to the back of his head—also familiar. A blink that brought his attention back into focus on the faces around him, and his equally familiar response rolled automatically off his tongue.

"YesBoss?"

"That was…" Blair began, than seemed to be at a loss for words.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

Tony thought Blair looked mildly concerned, as he finished diplomatically, "Effective."

Gibbs seemed content with the answer.

Tony wished he knew what they were talking about. "What? What'd I do to deserve that one?" He rarely got Gibbs-slapped for not saying anything.

"You…uh, zoned, Tony," Blair supplied.

"And you slapped me, Boss?" Tony said, purposefully pathetic.

"Worked, didn't it?" Now Gibbs actually looked moderately pleased with himself.

"It was those kids, huh?" Jim asked Tony.

"Yeah," Tony answered, than frowned. "But if you were listening…"

"Pulled myself back after they were a block or so away," Jim explained. "Rude, sure, but they didn't sound like they were going to be a problem."

Blair was grinning. "This is great."

Tony scowled. "I zoned, again. What's great about that?"

"Don't take it personally," Jim recommended as an aside. "He's just excited over some new brain-flash."

"Yeah, sorry." Blair took his enthusiasm down a notch, but barely. "It's just, you're both reacting in response to your instincts—in this case, to protect the neighborhood." His audience's lack of equal zeal didn't slow him down. "You're not even in your territory, Jim, but even so, you react to any threat of danger without thinking."

"Careful, Sandburg," Jim warned good-humoredly. "Caveman or not, I do have a brain. And there are cop instincts as well as Sentinel ones."

"Oh, c'mon, it's cool, isn't it?" Blair prodded.

"How long are you two staying in D.C.?" Gibbs asked unexpectedly.

"We still have a week off after the conference, which'll be over in two days. And, man, guys…" Blair looked around at his three less-expressive companions. "This is way cooler than visiting museums."

Jim took another slice of pizza with a small shake of his head, and a smile. "Believe me, coming from Sandburg that's saying a lot."

ooo

TBC

A/N: You guys are just…awesome. I am more thankful than you can possibly know for all your comments—short or long, just knowing you guys are reading and enjoying makes my day! Thanks for the anonymous reviews from Gold Berry, Tigerlily1221, g, Dani, and Unseen Watcher, as well. =)

The revealing of The Guide begins. *g* Hope you like!