Title: Girl Interupted
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: NCIS and Leverage
Trope: Sentinel LBD
Relationship: Tony DiNozzo/Eliot Spencer
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Ziva is a terrible person
Summary: Ziva kidnaps Tony, Eliot objects.
Tony maintains a safe distance from the various sentinels in the garden as his wolf spirit weaves in and out them. Occasionally, the wolf stops to sniff one or another -he gives Daniel Jackson a straight-up lick- but he never indicates a choice to Tony.
Once he’s checked in with each sentinel in the yard, Tony’s wolf returns to him and sits, tilting his head in what Tony can only call a disappointed frown.
The wolf gives him a huffy little bark, and then with the air of someone doing something they know is fucking stupid purely for someone else’s satisfaction, he goes and checks out the two unbonded members of the Council security team.
He clearly doesn’t like either of them and doesn’t linger.
The wolf is back with Tony quickly. He plants his fur-covered butt on Tony’s feet and huffs. Well, that’s pretty clear.
Tony turns as much as he can without dislodging the disappointed wolf. He makes contact with Face and only Face.
Face gives him a sympathetic smile and steps forward. “We’d like to thank you all for coming-”
Tony allows Sentinel and Guide Saito to usher him into the building and back to his suite.
“What would you like to do now?” Sentinel Saito asks in that low, gravelly voice of his. “We can call in those the Council rejected on your behalf. They are all in another facility in this city.”
“Or you can travel,” The man’s wife and guide adds. “Get yourself some physical and emotional distance from this.” She makes a little circle gesture to indicate the building and all of them in it. “You’ll need a bonded pair guard until your body chemistry settles but we can make it happen.”
Tony hesitates. He should try bonding again but he needs the physical and emotional distance. He didn’t expect to not find his sentinel. He certainly didn’t expect to feel this rejected by not finding his sentinel, but, well, now he knows and he knows what he wants to do. “I want to go home.” And be alone, surrounded by his own stuff.
“We can do that,” Sentinel Saito assures. “There are sentinels already living in your building so your night security is assured. Perhaps we can move a bonded pair onto your team for day security? With Gibbs joining his mate on the job, SecNav has assured me that team leadership is yours and you have two spots to fill.”
Tony’s not really thrilled with the level of management he’s being subjected to, but he knows it’s a sentinel imperative so he just sucks it up the best he can. “Fine but I want to pick them and one of them needs to be SFA material. I want personnel files.”
“Very well,” Saito says as he almost absentmindedly sends a text one handed. “One of my planes will be ready to take you to DC within the hour.”
Ziva silently slits the throat of the bonded guide scheduled to fly Tony away from her and drops the body across that of the man’s sentinel.
The smell of their deaths -the smell of her victory over the last barrier between herself and her guide- is ridiculously arousing.
Quickly, she hides the bodies and cleans herself up. She dons the smaller man’s flight suit to help hide her scent trail, takes a clipboard to cover the dart gun she’s carrying, and makes for the plane.
Tony is already on board, dressed more casually than she’s ever seen him and prepping a couch in the passenger compartment for a nap. She darts him while his back is turned and catches him before he hits the floor.
She makes sure to touch his skin as much as possible as she settles him but nothing changes between them. His mind doesn’t connect with hers. His mind is in fact completely quiet.
Must be the drug.
She heads to the cockpit and starts the preflight checks. She works through flight clearance with control in all grunts, and smiles when they blow off her antics as those of a grumpy sentinel.
Next stop: Boston.
His and his wife’s phones ring at the same time.
She answers first, as is his preference. Someone from their airline. Sounds routine. He answers his own mobile.
“Sir.” It’s Sentinel Eppes. Something official because he can hear what he’s 90% sure is a crime scene being processed in the background. But Eppes should be on leave for at least a week post-Guide-Rejection. “We received report of two bodies inside your private hangar, sir.
“They appear to be a bonded pair.”
Only one bonded pair should be anywhere near his hangar, but they are already in the air. Flying Guide DiNozzo home.
“They’ve been,” Don hesitates. “Their identities have been obscured and their IDs stolen. We’re asking you to come down and officially identify them for the investigation.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Sir, we also need to verify the whereabouts of Sentinel David.”
“Yes, sir. Was she recently flown out of town on one of your planes?”
Meaning: her scent is in the hangar and they want to know why.
“She was released to her father’s people when she recovered. They verified that she was flown back to Tel Aviv to await the Council’s ruling two days ago.”
“I need to know who provided you that information.”
“Of course, I’ll bring it with me.”
They hang up quickly and he turns to his wife. Her eyes are full to the brim with concern but empty of tears.
“Guide DiNozzo’s flight skipped the required layover in Missouri and they have lost the radar transponder.”
Sentinel Saito frowns. That makes no sense. His son and his son’s guide would never– Oh. Oh, damn. His son wouldn’t and his son didn’t because his son is dead.
Don stares down at the recently identified body of the heir to the Saito Empire feeling -well, he’s not really sure what he’s feeling.
Relieved, that he didn’t bond with a trouble magnet like DiNozzo. His brother is trouble magnet enough, thank you.
Guilty, for being relieved.
Guilty, for not bonding with the guide because then he’d be safe right now.
Angry, because they know exactly what happened and who did it.
Frustrated, because they can’t stop her.
Angry, again, because they didn’t put her in the ground when they had a chance.
“Alright. We need to alert the East Coast. FBI, TSA, Border Patrol, Customs. Hospitals, train stations, rental companies. Anyone with a badge, or involved with travel in any way, or online east of Tennessee.
“My gut says she’s going to try for Israel but she can’t cross the ocean in that plane with the fuel she has, so she’s got to resupply somewhere. Find where and we have a chance.
“Let’s go, people.”
Eliot’s edgy and unhappy. And he’s more than a little pissed.
His spirit guide is pacing around him. Has been all day. The bear is edgy and unhappy.
He hasn’t seen that damn bear since the day he got kicked out of the Corps and told he’d never work in legit circles ever again, so he really doesn’t know what to make of his sudden reappearance.
“What do you want?!” He finally roars at the big brown beast.
The bear stops and turns his own eyes on him, disappointed and a little startled.
“What do you want?” He repeats, calmer this time.
The bear walks toward his front door, stops, and looks back at him.
Eliot grabs his coat and the keys to his Harley. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Sir!” One of the techs in their little make-shift command center shouts. All of the sentinels in the room turn. “David’s been sighted!”
“Where?” Eppes asks, charging over.
“Boston. We have dash-cam footage.” A few clicks and a grainy bit of video pops up on the kid’s screen.
That’s David alright. He can see the faint scar tissue around her mouth from when Smith and Ellison fist bumped aggressively with her face in the middle.
If they hadn’t used that med tech on her- No, no, that’s pointless.
“When was this?”
“An hour ago.”
“Good. Good. Find that van, and alert the local Center.”
It takes a few hours. Mostly because the damn bear meanders. And he doubles back over himself a few times, like he doesn’t know where he’s fucking going. But they end up outside a sleek building made of silvered glass.
His cell phone rings several times during the trip but he ignores it. He has neither the hands to answer nor the time. The phone just keeps ringing. At one point he briefly considers turning it off but he might need his team later.
Actually, he could use Hardison right now. The next time his phone rings, he answers.
“About time!” Hardison sounds completely exasperated. It’s his favorite Hardison. “Do you know how pissed Nate is? We can’t move in without you in place and he wants to finish this tonight. You need-”
“I’m not coming.” He growls. “Tell me about a company called Amerisearch.”
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
He can hear Hardison’s fingers flying and the guy starts his research-mutter, so Eliot holds his answer.
When it sounds like Hardison’s getting somewhere, he says. “Something came up.”
“Came up.” Hardison snorts. “Right.
“Amerisearch is a medical research company. Internationally funded. Hasn’t actually released any discoveries in five years.”
“They treat patients?”
“No.” More key clicks. “They don’t have the licenses for it. Not the business or any of its employees.”
So why did they just wheel a guy in on a stretcher?
“Alright.” Eliot hangs up.
He needs an in. Smells like there is exactly one restaurant nearby.
He heads that way on foot and strolls right into the bar. Bingo. In a corner booth, three security guards all wearing Amerisearch badges.
Speed is more important than subtlety so rather than getting them shitfaced and taking their credentials, he goads them into a fight.
Twenty minutes later, the dumpster behind the store two fronts down is richer three warm -breathing- bodies and he has a full disguise including the jacket and credentials of a guy that looks kind of like him… if your eyes are closed.
His spirit guide is back as soon as he’s past the front lobby. He follows the bear as casually as he can, as if he’s patrolling the stairs.
When he gets onto the first underground floor her hears it. A man. Panicking. Distressed. Begging.
The world goes red.
“That should do it,” The little man in a lab coat advises the room as he pulls his needle out of Tony’s IV.
“That should do what?” He asks, tense.
“That should help you bring down your shields so that your sentinel can reaffirm your bond.” The man looks like he’s about to pat Tony on the shoulder but then thinks twice about it and moves back. “It should also help return your sexual function in regards to your sentinel but if it doesn’t, we have other options.
“Don’t worry, we won’t let them destroy your bond.”
“Bond? What bond? I’m not bonded!”
The man looks at him sadly. “She said your Stockholm-”
“I’ll take it from here, doctor,” Ziva fucking David says from where she’s leaning in the doorway.
The man nods to her and scampers off.
“My sentinel?” He asks her sarcastically.
She smiles, beatific and innocent. “I knew you would recognize me.”
“Recognize who you are? Yes. Recognize you as my sentinel? Never.”
“We shall see.” She approaches his bed. Her eyes are only on his IV, watching the progress of it.
“Ziva, no. Whatever you are planning is wrong and I don’t consent, Ziva. I don’t consent. I will never consent. Not with you.”
She gives him that smile again but this time it’s creepier because he can see her eyes are empty. No one is home.
She drops a hand to his blanket-covered thigh and strokes it.
“Ziva!” He’s restrained, unarmed, and naked save his flimsy fucking hospital gown and the fucking blanket. His only hope is the voice. “No!”
She glares and opens her mouth to argue and then she’s gone. Through a brand new hole in the wall, narrowly missing his IV stand.
Kneeling on the ground by Tony’s bed is a bear of a man. He has long hair and the broadest shoulders Tony has ever seen in person. He’s wearing what’s got to be a stolen security uniform because none of the other guards he’s seen have denim button ups under their jackets.
Like a hero from a cheesy action flick, Shoulders throws his hair back without using his hands, pulls a knife, and follows Ziva through the hole in the wall.
Tony fights with his restraints, most of his attention in the direction of the fight. He can’t see anything, not physically, but he can hear the grunts and growls of combat. In his mind’s eye, he can see a big brown bear taking on a furious lioness.
They’re pretty evenly matched and wounds are racking up until the lioness falters. The bear takes the opening, pulling the lioness to his chest. She struggles, trying to get her back feet up to break his grip. With visible effort, the bear growls and tears out the lioness’s throat with so much force, her head almost comes off.
The bear’s -definitely not the man, the bear’s– bellow of victory is so loud that everyone in the building must hear it. But Tony doesn’t care. He can’t. Not when the sound wraps itself around his soul and holds on tight. Not when it changes his world.
Shoulders and the bear are staggering back toward him. His Sentinel is staggering toward him.
“Sentinel,” He calls to the man, reaching as much as he can. “Sentinel.
“Free me, Sentinel. Please, free your guide.”
“No,” The man shakes his head. He sits on the edge of the bed but he’s out of reach. There’s no way they can touch, not skin to skin. “I can’t, Guide. I- I’ll call the Center. They-”
“No, Sentinel.” Tony argues. “You. You are my sentinel. Free me.”
“I can’t,” His sentinel moves back from the bed. “If I touch you. No. I’m not good enough.”
“You are mine. That makes you good enough.”
More head shaking. Tony’s heart breaks. Rejected by his sentinel. Figures. It fucking figures.
Desperate, he calls his wolf. The wolf looks small beside the bear. They sniff each other and there are some pleased noises but they don’t touch. They turn to the sentinel, silently asking.
His sentinel frowns at the three of them. Opens his mouth to speak and closes it. Frowns harder and then reluctantly nods.
The bear noses forward and the two animals start cheek rubbing. It’s stupidly adorable for two massive predators, but, well, Tony’s view could be a little skewed. He’s pretty much caught up by the sense of right seeping into his soul. His sentinel looks shattered and Tony doesn’t know him well enough yet to tell if this is good shattered or bad shattered.
His shoulders seem to be sitting easier than Tony’s seen so far, so that’s a good thing. The sentinel reaches for his restraints and has his first wrist just about free when the door is kicked open.
Someone Tony doesn’t know darts them both. First his sentinel, then himself.
Eliot wakes up to shouting.
His guide is shouting, again. Obviously he picked the wrong one.
Eliot chuckles to himself. It might be amusing to think about exchanging his guide for another one but he knows he’s never going to be able to let the man go. They haven’t even physically touched yet and he’s done. Eliot’s in it for life.
God only knows what that means for them.
“I apologize Guide DiNozzo but I can’t let you in there. Sentinel Eliot is still asleep and the Council has ordered your isolation they arrive.
“Someone is trying to reach them for updated instructions but, as you know, that’s highly unlikely because the Alpha is in the air. Now, if you would return to your room and remain calm, you are making the sentinels in the building very tense.”
Guide DiNozzo huffs. “I’ll go into isolation but it will be isolation with him or where I can see him. I will not and cannot calm down until I see for myself that you,” DiNozzo pauses, pointedly. “People. Haven’t hurt him.”
Silence. Probably a stare down.
“His room has an observation deck. You can spend half an hour there, then you will return to your room and stay there until the Alpha gets here. That is my only offer.”
“Fine. The door on your left, please.”
Lights go on above him, revealing the mentioned observation deck. His guide hobbles into the room, his grip white-knuckled on an IV stand. The guy really should be in bed but Eliot’s too grateful to see him to mention it.
“Raising hell, huh?”
His guide blushes and raises his chin. “Just making myself clear.”
Sentinel Saito looks down at the sentinel in the observation room. “That’s a dead man.”
Guide DiNozzo’s heart wibbles and he shoots the other man a look. “Obviously not.” The guide snaps. “Not according to the heart monitor.”
“I can see that.” And hear it and smell it. The man is, in fact, alive. But. “I have a report in my desk where he was declared dead. Killed during a feral episode while on assignment.”
“I went feral.” A quiet, raspy voice says, breaking the silence.
Guide DiNozzo’s focus is down on the room faster than Saito can mentally translate the words.
“There was a kid. My team leader was hurting him and I stopped it.”
He can smell DiNozzo’s proprietary pride seep into the room, overlaying his stress in a way that tells him that DiNozzo’s stress does not have the cause he had assumed.
“You and this man?” He asks the guide, nodding down to the sentinel.
“Our spirit guides,” And DiNozzo makes a gesture that he can only think of as the Mating of Jazz Hands but somehow he knows exactly what it means.
“Why is this man not with his sentinel?” Saito growls at the mundane doctor that runs this particular Center.
“They are spiritually bonded. Rule one when dealing with sentinels and guides is that you do not separate bonded pairs for any reason.”
“I didn’t know!” He protests hotly but it’s a fucking lie.
“Did they tell you? Either of them? Both of them?”
The mundane’s mouth closes with a snap.
“Go to him.” He orders the guide and DiNozzo practically flies from the room. “If you have damaged their bond in anyway, I will see you brought up on international charges. After I allow his sentinel to beat you for bond interference.”
“Needless to say,” His wife puts in, her hand coming over his shoulder to soothe him. “You’re fired.”