Dr. Sandburg Finds a Sentinel

[lit_gal]

Dr. Sandburg Finds a Sentinel
Gen/Pre-slash


Dr. Sandburg has a good life working on alien contact at Stargate Command; however, now he has news that his holy grail might just be out there in the strangest place possible--earth. Even worse, James Ellison has become the center of a vicious race that has pit Blair and the Stargate command against a rogue CIA operative, the NID, and the Chinese government.  And Blair is not sure how to convince Ellison that he's with the good guys.


( Dr. Sandburg of SG-16 gets some news... )

( Dr. Sandburg gets his first look at his Sentinel, but Jim Ellison is not going down that easily )

( When O'Neill doesn't move fast enough, the spirit world gets involved )

( Jim has himself a hostage )

"Rise and shine, Chief. We're changing vehicles." Someone patted him on the arm, and Blair slowly drifted toward wakefulness. He was too warm to wake up. He wanted to sleep. He let himself drift back under again.

"Sandburg. Up." Someone sighed. "Clearly you're not too afraid of me."

Blair blinked and the back of the truck came into focus. Jim was sitting next to him in a t-shirt and pants, just now pulling his shoes on, and Blair's side was very warm.

"You were sleeping back here," Blair said fuzzily.

Jim looked over. "That's why I needed you so secure. However, now that I see how soundly you sleep, I'm not sure I have to really worry all that much. Come on, rise and shine. We're going to trade the truck for something a little more conspicuous. Now, if you make a fuss, I'm going to have to do something drastic, like tell them that I found out you're a narc. Don't make me throw you to the hippies, Chief."

"That is dirty pool," Blair said as he wiggled around. "And these are so not hippies. My mother was a hippy, and these people are drug-taking morons for the most part."

"Your mom's a hippy and you work for a covert government agency trying to kidnap an American citizen? Nice, Sandburg."

"Don't go there," Blair warned. "I do not need my Naomi issues poked by you."

"I borrowed these from someone's camp when we pulled in last night." Jim brought out some flip flops.

Blair looked at them in horror. "My toes are going to freeze."

"Until I can get the truck traded, yes, they are. Sandburg, you clearly have experienced frontline conditions, so this can't be all that miserable."

"Man, I would never leave perfectly good boots behind for those things. I only put up with suffering when I don't have a choice, and even then, I make sure Colonel Reynolds knows how much I don't like suffering."

Jim leaned over and unzipped the bag, letting cold air rush into Blair's nest. "First, you don't have a choice. Second, Eric must just love babysitting you."

Blair snorted. "Eric," he said, using Colonel Reynolds' first name rather derisively, "picks Marine backup who spend more time sticking their oversized boots into cultural messes than I can get them out of."

Jim pursed his lips. "Chief, you're so easy to manipulate information out of that I almost feel guilty. Fuck. Army, Marines and Air Force all answering to the same commanders. You really have yourself neck deep in some sort of covert program, don't you?" He pulled on a gray hoodie and then a long leather jacket over that, and Blair looked at the flip flops in horror. Yeah, he understood the concept of handicapping a prisoner, but this was just cruel and unusual in this weather.

"Just call the general," Blair asked as Jim started untying his feet. "Man, there are not a lot of options for us here."

"Don't worry. I'll cut you loose before I pull some Thelma and Louise, but we aren't to that point yet. You might be surprised at the rabbits I can pull out of my hat." Jim's smile was dangerous. He pulled out a knife and slipped the edge under the ropes around Blair's waist. Blair held his breath as the sharp edge divided the strands and the rope fell away. "So, who does your General Hammond report to?"

Blair only started breathing again once Jim put the knife away and started untying Blair's wrists. "The president," Blair answered.

Jim stopped and looked at him. "Chief, it doesn't work that way. All military operations go through the Secretary of Defense and the Joint Chiefs and from there down to a handful of generals, all of whom I can name for you."

"Maybe," Blair shrugged, "but General Hammond has access to the president."

"Fuck." Jim stopped, his hand resting on Blair's leg. "Kid, you're in so deep I'd be doing you a favor if I stuffed you in the trunk and dragged you to Canada."

"Man, do not even go there," Blair warned. "I can't tell you exactly what I do, but it's important work. I know I'm doing the right thing. And in case you don't know me well enough to have figured this out, I always do what I think is the right thing."

"I'm not questioning your heart, Chief," Jim patted Blair on the leg, "only your brains. Get your jacket and your flip flops and come on out and meet the neighbors." Jim slid toward the back of the truck and pushed the tailgate open. "And try not to put any of the neighbors into a situation where they may end up getting shot."

Blair rolled his eyes. When he finally got free of the truck, he could see they were in the middle of the crowd. Some bands were set up in the parking lot of a small country store and Blair could see some local law enforcement at the edge of the crowd, watching everyone suspiciously.

"Don't go there," Jim warned, catching Blair's arm and pressing on a pressure point just inside his elbow. Blair hissed as pain radiated up and numbness drained down into his hand.

"No way. I'm not. Back off on the pain," Blair pressed himself closer to Jim, and Jim caught his other arm so they were in a twisted imitation of an embrace. Blair rested his forehead against Jim's chest and just tried to breathe through the pain. "I'm not going to turn you in. When are you going to understand that?"

"Not even to your Colonel O'Neill? I think that's called treason, Chief."

"Consider me Switzerland when it comes to Jack, but you two should not be fighting. Jim, this is..."

"Save it, Darwin." Jim draped his arm over Blair's shoulders and slammed the back of the truck shut. "Let's go truck shopping."

By the time Jim settled on a bright green Ford Crown Victoria, Blair's toes were ready to fall off. Jim laughed with the owner, and walked him back to the truck where they argued price some more before packing up their things.

"I wish I knew if they were just harassing people or looking for us," Jim muttered as they strolled back to their new car. Jim had the hood on his gray hoodie pulled so low over his face that it was barely visible. Blair glanced over when Jim opened the passenger side door to their new car.

"Can't you listen in?" Blair asked as the two officers talked.

Jim gave him an incredulous look. "There are several hundred people between us."

"Yeah, but you're a sentinel. You should be able to focus on the cops, tune everyone else out." Blair watched as doubt and determination played in Jim's expression. "Being a sentinel is all about being able to do the impossible with your senses." Blair thought the doubt was going to win, but then Jim shifted so he could see the officers, and he tilted his head slightly.

Blair had no idea if he was helping or hurting, but he reached out where Jim was leaning against the door and rested his own hand on top of Jim's. "Watch their lips. Ignore any conversations that don't match their lips." Blair stopped. Wait. If Jim was listening, he had just told Jim to stop listening to him. Great, Sandburg. His first attempt to imitate the companion Burton had described in his book, and Blair had pretty much blown it. He sucked.

Jim gasped, and Blair reached out and caught Jim's shirt, holding on. He had a sudden fear that Jim would go charging through the crowd, and that would so not end well. And then, Jim just froze. One second, Blair could see the anger and the stress building, and then he was just gone. No emotion, just a big Jim-statue leaning over the passenger side of the car.

"Jim?" Blair tentatively tightened his fingers around Jim's arm. "Jim? Oh man. Shit. Okay. I can handle this." Blair could feel panic rip through him. What if he couldn't do this? Hell, he didn't even know what this he was supposed to do. Burton had just blithely commented that the companion brought the sentinel out of the zone, and all the helpful details were missing. Shit. "Earth to James Ellison," he joked, tugging on Jim's shirt. "Okay, this is not funny. Whatever you have going on in your head, you need to remember that you're in the real world, and the real world is going to kick your ass if you don't get your head in the game." Blair tugged on Jim's shirt a little too hard, and Jim tilted forward. "Oh shit," Blair had time to mutter before Jim thunked his head against the top of the doorframe.

"What the..." Jim's hand was under his coat and on his gun before he seemed to catch up with reality. And then his eyes turned cold.

"Are you okay?" Blair asked. Jim knelt down next to the car and pulled a length of rope out from under his coat. Every movement Jim made was angry, and the red welt on his forehead was starting to grow into a nice goose egg.

"Okay, I'm going to guess it wasn't good," Blair said, not fighting when Jim tied his wrists together and then anchored the rope to something under the seat. While he was down there, he took the flip flops so Blair was barefoot again.

"Keep quiet," Jim said. He pulled the seatbelt over Blair, clicking it in before he closed the door and walked over to an old pickup with rusted wheel wells.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Blair said sarcastically. And here he'd been complaining about Colonel Reynolds not listening to him. Blair watched as people wandered by the car. He could probably get someone's attention if he yelled loud enough, but that would back Jim into a corner, and then Jim would steal someone else's car. Either that or the cops would come running, their guns firing. People got killed in situations like that. No way did Blair want to take responsibility for that. So Blair waited.

"Man I can travel to the most dangerous places in the frikkin' universe, and I get taken hostage in Washington. I am so never living this down," he muttered to himself. With nothing else to do, Blair watched the people wandering through this part of the parking lot. In summer, this was probably a county fairground or maybe an open-air swap mart. They weren't all that far from Yakima, so a lot of people probably drove through the area on their way to the coast. On the other side of the US 12, a lazy river drifted through, the low, rounded hills and the gray sky sort of merged together in the hazy air.

A couple walked past, their arms locked together, and from the looks, the girl was already flying high as a kite. Whatever band was playing, they did attract the alternative lifestyle sort. Blair could only faintly hear the steady thumping of the bass. Another couple coming back from the main area stopped to talk to the new couple. Their bodies leaned in toward each other—a sign of solidarity, but their hands danced in distress. The new couple looked over toward the main crowd, and then the man was pulling the woman back out toward their car. Blair craned his neck to look for anything that might have started a panic, but all he could see were a few random groups drifting back out toward the parking lot. A heavy diesel engine started, and a truck with naked-girl mudflaps headed toward the highway.

Blair was so distracted that he didn't notice Jim until he was getting in the car.

"What's up?" Blair asked.

"Funny thing. Someone started a rumor that a big law enforcement raid is about to come down."

"Whoa. Okay. I guess that works," Blair said.

"Especially since a big law enforcement raid is about to come down," Jim said as he started the car. "Hopefully they'll focus on the four-wheel drive vehicles. If you told them I'll head for the forest, it's time to head for the city."

"Will your senses be okay?" Blair asked.

Jim laughed, resting his hands on the wheel of the car, he just laughed. "Sandburg, I've kidnapped you, put a gun to your head, and tied you up, and your concern is whether or not my senses are acting up?"

Blair frowned. "Okay, put like that, this is going to be a very strange mission debrief."

"You're going to be seeing the company shrink until your hair turns gray. And even then, don't be surprised if they pull you off active duty. I really hope you didn't like what you were doing too much because you have shown a big, vulnerable psychological underbelly, Chief."

"Hey, I was once held hostage for three weeks, and I passed the psych test with flying colors."

Jim glanced over, his expression pretty damn disbelieving, and Blair glared at him. "I am not over-identifying with you."

"Right."

"Oh man. I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

"I happen to think you have a right to your own life and that the government sucks for putting you in this position. I thought that before you started acting like some throwback to a primitive form of man who feels a need to drag me around by my hair."

"I haven't dragged you anywhere by your hair."

"Metaphorically."

Jim put the car into gear. "Oh yeah, Colonel Reynolds has to love you."

"Ass," Blair muttered as Jim started the car.

"Chief, you are really one of a kind." The crowd was starting to pick up now, people running to their vehicles. A dozen vehicles had already pulled out, and Jim headed for the highway, pulling into the west-bound traffic.