REPOST for edits: The Cost of Divorce 2/?. Crossover NCIS/The Sentinel.

[justjeanette]

Chapter Two.

If Gibbs hadn't already been watching DiNozzo, having decided the young Detective was worth more than the expensive clothes suggested, he would have missed it. One second he was dealing with a very confident, and obviously capable Detective, the next he was watching a playboy at work.

"Hey Bunka, long time, no see. Any good looking co-eds among the neighbors?" DiNozzo's smile lit up everything but his eyes. "Bunka, I'd like you to meet Mr. Ellison, Mr. Sandburg, Agent Gibbs from, which agency you from again?" The latter being addressed to Gibbs in a fair imitation of a Californian Surfer.

Gibbs wasn't the only one to notice the change; Ellison and Sandburg were both blinking their eyes, though Sandburg stopped first.

"Serial, what serial?" Tony addressed his colleague while he made a quick 'not here' gesture towards Sandburg.

"Our Tony boy here thinks everything's a serial," Bunka commented derisively. "It's a murder-suicide. Write it up, DiNozzo. The neighbors heard nothing, saw nothing. There's no evidence of sexual predatorism or any of that other ritual shit behaviors like the memo said to look for when dealing with possible serials. You just want a serial so you can be noticed by the Feds." Bunka, apparently the senior partner, hadn't even twigged that there was at least one Fed in the room. "This ain't the movies, DiNozzo, this is Baltimore, real life. Finish up with the 'witnesses,' then let's get back to the station."

"Bunka, if it's a murder-suicide, then where is the weapon?" DiNozzo asked his colleague. "Murder-suicide? I mean, take a look at the vics, Bunka, one was shot close range with a shotgun, the other with a pistol. I thought it was normal to use only the one weapon in this type of crime?"

"Shows what you know, DiNozzo. You haven't got enough time in, in homicide, anywhere to be able to make that call. It probably went down like this," Bunka continued to explain, passing his wisdom on to the next generation, "Fiancé comes home, catches the little lady 'chatting' with some sleaze on the internet. They argue. He leaves the room; she sits down on the couch. He comes back in, shoots her with his service piece before offing himself with the shotgun. Murder-suicide, simple."

"But then the weapons should still be here." Tony pressed.

"Pat down the hippie wanna-be. That's where you'll find the weapon. He probably wandered in and took it, now he's trying to snow you till you let him go." Bunka's people skills were bad enough to make Gibbs cringe. Making those sorts of comments in front of said 'witnesses' with another witness present was the sort of thing defense lawyers longed for; hadn't the idiot read what happened in the O.J. trial?

DiNozzo apparently had read some, if not all, of the O.J. fall-out documents currently circulating law enforcement. "Bunka, Detective Sandburg was the person who called in the shooting."

"Detective? That ain't no goddamn Detective!" Bunka had taken one look at Sandburg and made a similar set of assumptions that Gibbs had made. That he'd reacted the same way didn't sit well with Gibbs, but at least he hadn't said it out loud, or implied that Sandburg had actually stolen the weapon.

Sandburg, to give the man his due, made no comment, though he quickly stepped forward into Ellison's path.

'Brave man', more than one occupant of the room thought as they'd observed the almost homicidal expression that was currently plastered across Ellison's face. Ellison, all bunching muscles and a strong physical presence was not someone the average Joe would want to tangle with.

Gibbs, watching in something akin to awe, was surprised to see Sandburg was apparently talking Ellison 'down'; see, not hear, because Sandburg was definitely speaking below a whisper. Luckily for Gibbs he could lip read with the best of them.

Jim, settle down, man. You made the same assumptions about hippie-wanna-be's when we met. Hell, Gibbs assumed the same thing. Remember, I don't scream 'cop' like the rest of you do. Anyway, the sooner you calm down the sooner I can ask Tony about his serial. I have the feeling we're going to be needed here. Might explain my sudden urge to visit Johns Hopkins.

This isn't our tribe, Chief.

I get the feeling that our 'tribe' is wherever we are at the time. Remember Texas?

'Urge to visit Johns Hopkins?' From what Sandburg had said when giving his statement to DiNozzo, the trip to Johns Hopkins sounded like a well planned trip. Just what was going on here? Suddenly Gibbs was caught between the need to watch the conversation going on between Ellison and Sandburg and listening to the conversation between DiNozzo and Bunka.

"DiNozzo, I've just finished talking to the neighbors. No one saw nothing, no one heard nothing. The only people who apparently knew about the shooting are both standing here in the lounge when they should be down at the station in booking. Hell, DiNozzo, even the uniforms didn't get here till almost twenty minutes after the call; only just beat us. Benden swears they drove past this place five times before they found it." Bunka didn't sound too happy, and Gibbs couldn't fault him for it; twenty minutes was a long time in terms of an active crime.

"Drove by it? How the hell could they miss the corner house?" DiNozzo sounded skeptical.

"That's what I asked 'em. Benden started going on about something called SEP fields and stuff like that. Valdez says the place had been 'touched'; his words not mine. Valdez said if this had happened back home in New Orleans he'd swear a sorcerer or witch had put a spell on the place; and your hippie wanna-be was giving Valdez the heebie-jeebies."

SEP field, Chief?

Jim, you'd zoned man. What was I supposed to do? Have the locals come busting in here with you frozen and standing over a corpse. This isn't Cascade, you know. Simon and Major Crime can cover us the few times things get real weird but this the real world, and these people don't look like they'd be able to think outside the box.

OK, Chief. I understand. I don't have to like it, though. Did you get anything else while you were chasing the perp?

He's done this before. He plans on doing it again. He thinks he's serving his country.

He?

Definitely.

"Valdez gets the heebie-jeebies if a black cat crosses his path. As for the hippie wanna-be, that there is Dr. Blair Sandburg, the author of The Not So Thin Blue Line."

"Shit, you gotta be fucking kidding, DiNozzo. Our prime suspect can't be Dr. Blair Sandburg; we'd both be stuck on crossing duty till the Chief retires if we tried making something like that stick." Bunka might look it, but he wasn't that stupid; Sandburg was required reading even for the 'old guard'. Still, he had hopes. "You sure that's Sandburg? Doesn't look like a cop to me."

Looking at Sandburg, anyone would agree that the man did not look like a cop. Sandburg might be dressed in a casual suit but with the hair, the earring and the face, he just didn't give off 'cop vibes'. Fact was, if it hadn't been for Ellison, Tony wouldn't have bought the cop thing either, but Ellison screamed 'cop' so loudly it was almost painful.

"I'm sure, checked the ID and all, Bunka." A bit of snark accompanied that comment, DiNozzo didn't like the assumption that he couldn't even check witness/suspect ID's. "We're both on crossing duty if you want me to arrest those two. They were waiting on scene when the uniforms got here, and Dr. Blair Sandburg's already told me he was the one who phoned in the call to dispatch."

What about the weapon he dropped?

It's safe enough where it is. Just have to find a way to get Tony to go with me and pick it up. What happened in here anyway, Jim? What did you zone on?

I think Ted arrived home and surprised the perp. I didn't see any sign of brass when I broke in, just Ted and the perp fighting over a shotgun. Ted was wielding the shotgun, the perp was holding onto the barrel. Perp was strong enough to force the barrel back into Ted's face, that's how the first shot went. Perp then grabbed the shotgun and put a second shot through Ted's chest about the time I made it to the far side of the lounge. I yelled for him to stop but the perp was far enough away that he could turn and get out through the kitchen. Broke the window with something then cleared the glass with the butt of the gun and I kind of zoned on the refracted light. If Gibbs hadn't been watching so closely he would have missed it; Ellison was keeping his eyes firmly focused on Sandburg, the instinctive glance to the left indicating a lie apparently held in check but something else in Ellison's body language screamed half-truth to Gibbs.

Jim, we have to work on your control around light a bit more, don't we? Sandburg seemed to have missed the body language clue buying whatever line it was that Ellison was selling.

"Hell."

"Hey, Bunka, don't sweat it. We can always handball this off to the Feds if you want…" He nodded towards Gibbs.

"Feds? DiNozzo, what the fuck is going on?"

"I introduced Agent Gibbs before, didn't I?" DiNozzo's comment brought attention back to Gibbs' presence.

"Ummm, Agent Gibbs?" Bunka tried the interrogative eyebrow trick but failed miserably.

"Gibbs, NCIS." Gibbs flashed his ID at the second Baltimore Detective. "And do you have any idea how long it's going to be before your forensics people show?"

"Forensics?" Bunka looked like someone had whacked him upside the head with a two by four. "They should be here by now. You called them in, didn't you DiNozzo?"

DiNozzo blinked, twice.

Oops.

Chief?

"Forensics hasn't been called?" Gibbs made a statement of the question while he turned his force nine glare at Sandburg. Gibbs' gut screamed that someway, somehow, Sandburg was the reason forensics wasn't on scene.

DiNozzo and Bunka turned to look at the out-of-town detective, but it was DiNozzo who actually spoke. "You got any idea why our people aren't here yet, Detective Sandburg? Maybe some new age mojo?" The raised eyebrow and the skeptical look that accompanied the question didn't ring true. DiNozzo might have been asking a foolish question but he apparently he didn't completely dismiss the 'new age mojo' angle.

Luckily for Blair, DiNozzo wasn't the senior partner here. Bunka obviously decided that it was DiNozzo's fault and started reaming the younger detective out for forgetting to call in forensics.

Not liking the fact the younger Detective was being reamed for something that was, somehow, out of his control didn't sit well with Gibbs. Deciding to intervene, Gibbs started towards Sandburg, sure that the hippie was the one at fault, when the world appeared to tilt on its axis. One moment, Bunka was reaming out DiNozzo, the next Bunka was calling in forensics, totally ignoring everyone else in the room.

"Sandburg?" Jim raced forward, catching the young man as he began to collapse in a heap. "What the hell did you do?"

Gibbs and DiNozzo both wanted to know as well; Sandburg was almost as white as a ghost, up to and including his eyes. Stranger still was the fact Bunka hadn't reacted at all, continuing to talk to dispatch about sending a crew out.

"Think I overdid it on the shielding," Sandburg whispered just before falling into a dead faint.

"Dammit, Chief. You'd better not have stuck us in half-time again."

"Half-time?" DiNozzo voiced the question for both of them.

"Oh Shit!" Ellison looked like he'd seen a ghost. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Us? Doing here? Just where is here, exactly?" The competent DiNozzo was back with a vengeance.

Gibbs decided if Sandburg hadn't already been dead to the world, he would have been given the look Ellison sent his partner. Gibbs also would never admit it, but if Ellison had looked at him like that even he might have pissed his pants. "Um, we might have to wait till Sandburg wakes up. He's much better at explaining these things."

"These things? Things like time shifting? Things like the fact your partner can put up a real Somebody Else's Problem shield?" Gibbs might have been on the defensive, but DiNozzo wasn't. "Things like fucking wolves sitting on the sidelines in the middle of suburban Baltimore?"

Wolves? It was then that Gibbs noticed the gray wolf crouched down beside Sandburg, nuzzling and licking at the man's face.

"Your partner gave Valdez the heebie-jeebies for real, didn't he, Detective Ellison?"

The way Bunka was acting gave Gibbs the heebie-jeebies.

"Yep, you'll need to send the ME and the meat wagon. We've got two dead, though we're going to have a jurisdictional battle." Bunka walked past DiNozzo and over toward the couch where Lt. Kirby still sat. "One of the deceased a Navy lieutenant, so you'd better let the Navy cops know, NCSI or something like that."

"I'll have DiNozzo speak with the witnesses. I'll canvass the neighbors but I don't think they heard anything.

"Nope, no one gawking out front is why.

"OK, Captain."

"Hell, Sandburg, how do we get ourselves into these things?" Ellison asked the unconscious man before he turned to face the other two men in the room who could see him. "Sandburg is a practicing Shaman. I think he shielded the house so that nothing would be disturbed while he chased after the perp; his way of protecting the evidence. Anyway, his shield was a bit stronger than he planned and until he takes it down no ones going to find this house who really doesn't need to. And before you ask, yes, the shielding is why Blair left me to go follow the perp," Jim explained emphasizing the fact that he had been perfectly safe; effectively answering the earlier, unspoken, criticism of his partner.

"So he like Obi-Wan Kenobi'd the house? The whole 'this is not the house you are looking for' and all that?" DiNozzo didn't seem at all fazed by the 'shield' comment or by the fact Bunka was acting like he'd just arrived on scene. Nope, DiNozzo looked fascinated by the whole thing. "I'd have thought Forensics would have been the first one needed."

DiNozzo might have been fascinated but Gibbs was just getting pissed.

"Only if there was evidence here that forensics could find. Looks like there's nothing of 'straight' forensics value at the scene; I couldn't find the brass from the double-tap, and if I couldn't see it your forensics people won't find it."

"Still got those good eyes, Ellison?" Gibbs snarked in frustration as he decided to join the conversation.

"Better."

"Bunka, Gibbs and I?" That was DiNozzo asking a fairly pertinent question.

"Given you're here and Bunka isn't then I'd say you both found the house because you were in the car. I'm not even sure why Gibbs is here."

"Great. So we wait till your hippie wakes?"

"I'm not a hippie." Sandburg grumbled before he opened his eyes. "Hey, Wolfer, what you doing here?" he asked the wolf that was now happily nuzzling him. "What'd I miss?"

"Apart from the fact you fainted, you mean?" Jim was looking down at the man in his lap with fond tolerance.

"I got that part, Jim. I mean what's with the hippie crap? I thought we were past that."

"Wasn't me. Was Gibbs. Looks like you have some explaining to do, Guppy." Jim grinned a little at the look of shock on Sandburg's face.

"Shit, we've got company?"

"You mean apart for Wolfer, here? Yep." Jim helped Sandburg to sit up, making sure the young man was facing his unexpected audience.

"DiNozzo, you take care of the witness statements. Don't let the hippie out of your sight either." Bunka called as he walked toward the front of the house. "Forensics reckons they'll be here in about fifteen minutes and I'll leave Benden and Valdez guarding the front."

"Now that is just plain weird." DiNozzo commented as Bunka talked. "If I didn't know better I'd swear he thought we'd just arrived on scene."

"Ummm." Sandburg actually looked embarrassed, which, given the chutzpah the kid had shown so far was probably the most worrying aspect of there current predicament. "Detective Bunka kind of does think he's just arrived on scene. With a bit of luck, the call for your forensics backup will also show up time tagged for about thirteen forty-five."

"Blair, you haven't been playing with time again have you?" Jim suddenly didn't look happy.

'Again?' Gibbs glanced at DiNozzo. The Baltimore cop's thoughts clearly written on his face; looked like Gibbs and DiNozzo were on the same wavelength and neither was happy.

"Not this time, Jim. I learned that lesson already." Blair murmured but Gibbs heard the comment anyway.

'Learned that lesson, already. Hell, what was Ellison involved in?' Gibbs had to wonder. Still, it was apparent he was not supposed to have heard the comment for it looked like Sandburg's perception of volume was a bit off as he kept speaking in that low-not-low voice. "Just fiddled with the time perception a bit, if Tony really has a serial and I'm kind of thinking he has, given he didn't fall out with Bunka, then any forensics, no matter how insignificant, might be important. If the time frame's suspect though, then the whole case might end up running an O.J."

"Yeah, I know."

"So it's worth the bit of a headache getting everyone on the same page, time-wise."

"Except for the fact Gibbs and DiNozzo here know that something's screwy." Jim kept one hand supporting Blair's back while he looked daggers at the other two. 'Keep quiet or else', was the unspoken message. So, Blair, you want to explain to the preppie class what's going on before company arrives?"

"Let me get us synched first. It'll be safer that way."

'Synched?' Gibbs was about to ask when the world tilted again, this time in glorious technicolor. For a moment Gibbs actually thought he was the subject of one of Abby's pictures -- 'Sad Death of a Drano Drinker' coming to mind. Seeing DiNozzo turn almost as green as he felt only served to verify that whatever was happening was happening.

When the world righted itself Sandburg was standing next to Ellison. Ellison was still, doing a very good impression of a statue.

"Oh, Hell. Come on Jim, time to come back." Sandburg was literally crooning in Ellison's ear. From a distance it would have looked intimate; from up close and personal it looked even more so.

Needing Sandburg to explain what was going on made the next five minutes difficult. Gibbs didn't have a clue what had happened, what was happening, or worse, what might happen. Hell, Gibbs didn't even have a clue where to start asking questions, and the only person who could answer was crooning away at the statuesque Ellison.

"Come on Jim, come on. Time to wake up. Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. The early Sentinel gets the Wonderburger."

"With all the toppings, Chief."

"Ellison, if I didn't know better I'd swear you were waiting till I mentioned Wonderburger!" Sandburg snapped at his now not-so comatose partner before he turned to address the other men. "Sorry about that, but if I didn't get Jim out of that zone we'd have had to explain a bit more than I want to a larger audience."

"Zone?" This time Gibbs voiced his question.

"Jim?"

"Sandburg, they've watched you play with time perception. I think explaining the Sentinel thing is going to be the easiest thing for them to swallow right now; the rest you can explain when we are a bit more private. Anyway, Jethro knows me from my Ranger days; your explanation is only going to clear a few things up for him, like it did in Major Crimes. But you'd better make it fast, company's about five blocks away."

The casual reference to how close company was triggered a memory deep in Gibbs' mind. One of the few joint Army-Navy exercises he remembered almost going to plan; almost. Kangaroo exercises were never fun; the Australian troops seemed to enjoy trying to get one over on their better equipped counterparts. Gibbs and his Marines' company had been paired up with Ellison's Ranger group; the whole 'the rangers lead the way' card in full play. Their task: secure the LZ for the larger Marine group that was to land in a small bay just west of Cape Melville National Park. The high ground near the small inlet was a perfect spot to set up cover fire; that was Gibbs' job. Ellison's job was to get the Marine group there safely, past dangers human and reptilian. Unspoken had been if they avoided drop-bears as well, so much the better.

It had been Ellison's ears that had picked up the threat. Australia had snakes that made rattlers look like pansies-at least if you were dumb enough to try standing on one. Which, if Ellison hadn't signaled, Corporal Denison would have; Ellison claimed to have heard the snake move, even though no one else could even see the creature. Denison had frozen at the signal, foot stopped just above a branch which turned out to be anything but a branch.

Paying closer attention to their footing after that, they'd made it safely to the sniper site, thus ensuring a safe landing by the Marines. The same couldn't be said however of the general Army units who were meant to form the other arm of the pincer movement aimed to trap the Australians in the middle of Cape Melville. Even Ellison had been heard to comment creatively on the idiocy of anyone believing in drop-bears, but cutting and running because a couple of lance corporals thought to drop a few of stuffed koala toys into base camp; well, embarrassing didn't cut it.

Still, Gibbs remembered just how good Ellison's ears had been.

"Okay, it goes like this. In all tribal cultures every village had what Burton named a Sentinel. Now this was someone who patrolled the border. A Sentinel is chosen because of a genetic advantage-a sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans. Anyway Jim is a Sentinel, and his senses are developed like way, way, way beyond normal." Blair looked like a kid in a candy store as he spoke

"Well, that's as clear as mud." DiNozzo, it seemed, could do sarcastic when he chose to.

"Okay, you asked earlier about hearing shots, remember? Jim, how about you listen in on the incoming backup and tell us anything that might demonstrate you can hear what's going on, over traffic and all. We can always verify what you hear later."

Jim didn't look at all happy to be volunteered for a dog and pony show, but this needed to be done fast Grabbing hold of Blair by the scruff of his neck -- "Hey, watch it with the goods, man," -- Jim looked at Gibbs,. "You expecting someone called 'Ducky', Jethro?"

The look of surprise confirmed Jim's statement.

"It seems his assistant, Gerald, is having a bit of trouble navigating the turn off the 83. They just missed the North Avenue turn, and Ducky appears to be remembering a time something like this happened in Paris."

Gibbs felt himself go cold; yes, he remembered Ellison and his good ears but what Ellison's' words implied just wasn't possible, was it? Was Ellison really listening to Ducky? Hell, if Ellison was then why wasn't he tied up in some government lab or working for one of the more clandestine alphabet soup organizations? Were hearing and sight the only senses enhanced? Even if hearing was the only enhanced sense Gibbs couldn't quite stop the special-operative part of his own brain from salivating at the possibilities. Thinking on the some of the operations he'd had to run, Paris in particular, Gibbs was almost drooling at the thought of being able to listen in, undetected and probably undetectable.

Something of Gibbs' thoughts must have shown on his face as Ellison apparently switched to listening to a closer target. Mind, it could have been a coincidence as DiNozzo, unacquainted with the unknown 'Ducky' wasn't as going to be convinced that Ellison was anything special based on some supposed conversation between unknown colleagues of Gibbs; still, Gibbs' white face certainly backed up the fact that the conversation relayed could actually be happening. That being said, Gibbs was not happy that Ellison's focus had moved; that was until he saw DiNozzo's reaction.

Ellison started repeating what Bunka was apparently telling the uniforms out front; and what he was saying was interesting on both a professional and personal level. Gibbs was interested to hear that Bunka all professional, though somewhat judgmental, when he'd interacted with them earlier was a different man away from DiNozzo and prying ears. Actually, it seemed Bunka was a bit more than 'somewhat judgmental', he was an outright bigot. Bunka, it appeared listened to office gossip and had no qualms about passing it on. "Knew that DiNozzo was a bit queer but you should have seen him drooling over the Fed. Reckon he might have creamed himself with the idea of playing with the big boys, if you know what I mean."

"Shit. Fuck. Damn. Stupid fuckwit."

Ellison wisely stopped talking.

Gibbs, meanwhile, was stuck trying to calm the enraged detective down. It should have been an easy task but for some strange reason -- keep telling yourself that, Gibbs -- the NCIS agent wasn't really concentrating on the task at hand. In truth, it wasn't that Gibbs wasn't concentrating on the task at hand more that he was concentrating on getting his hands on the task, as it were. Luckily, DiNozzo wasn't swinging, or hitting at anything; in fact, the young detective hadn't moved at all but his language was getting bad enough to make any sailor blush and the volume was going up. Soon he'd be loud enough to be heard outside and that didn't seem like a good idea.

"Hey, calm down." When the command wasn't obeyed, instantly, Gibbs resorted to a quick clip upside the back of the head.

Stunned, DiNozzo just looked at the Fed.

"You calm now?"

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