Work Text:
The Invitations
by Jayed
With the word went out on Sentinels and Guides, the world went into a bit of frenzy.Having a billionaire on speed dial had been a good move, and even better one had been actually moving to his Estate. Charlie was a mighty good guy to know. Morrow, Director of NCIS, after discussons with Gibbs and DiNozzo, had a few ships “discretely” standing by the island, well, a few dozen. The little “fraud” had not been a fraud at all. Things were happening!
Conversations with the President were held on speakerphone. While Hutch handled most of their end, the information and discussion were too important to all the Sentinels, Guides, Pairs, and families to allow only a few to know what was being said. After much discussion, it was decided to allow a visit by the President and select group of government and military officials. Many of the Sentinels and Pairs had no intention of changing the territories or occupations, but it seemed foolish, if not churlish, to refuse to listen.
Thus, ten days after the news was first released, a small plane set down. This first plane was full of Secret Service agents. As the people with the closest ties to that particular agency, Gibbs and DiNozzo met them. Gibbs to sound them out, and DiNozzo to check for an unauthorized “toys” or any “little white lies.” Both men were pleasantly surprised. Apparently, the fragility of the political situation was keeping the politicians a bit more above board than expected.
A second plane landed several hours later. It contained the President, three Senators heading “key”
committees, the Secretary of Defense and of the Interior, and a smattering of others, including the Deputy Directors of the CIA, FBI, ATF, and DEA. Top ranked officers from the major service branches were also included. These guests were led to refreshments and a chance to mingle. A promise had been extracted that no overt job offers and, especially, no demands, would be made for at least twenty four hours.
The President, recognizing the leaders of this suddenly important clan, made a beeline for Starsky and Hutch, turning on the charm that had gotten him elected and trying to stick to neutral topics. The ATF Director headed straight for Vin and Ezra. He had been almost painfully smug when he realized that his Agency already had one of these new Pairs. The gleam in his eye made Chris Larabee, head of Vin and Ezra’s Team, a bit nervous, so he gathered the three big men of their group, Josiah Sanchez, Nathan Jackson, and Buck Wilmington, to stand at Vin and Ezra’s backs. JD Dunne, loathe to be left out, stood with Buck. Larabee, himself, shook the hand the man held out. “Best not to touch a Sentinel or Guide without permission, Sir,” he said, firmly, if not quite apologetically. The man had the grace to blush, and he took the offered chair to begin the process of understanding in more detail.
One of the military men, a General Hammond, went straight to Blair Sandburg. Here was the second most important of these Guides. Almost as importantly, here was a relatively young man with a background much like that of Daniel Jackson, who worked for him already. What a marvelous thing it would be to have a Sentinel on an SG team. He had more to worry about than any of his domestically focused colleagues, and he knew without a doubt how a Sentinel would be useful in his world. He didn’t really understand these Guides, but he did know that this Sandburg had, at the moment, all of the Sentinels in a kind of thrall, waiting to see which way his would go. Hammond had also researched Ellison, ex-covert ops man and Ranger.
Early the next morning the Secretary of Defense caught two of the younger female Sentinels returning to their rooms after an early morning run. Blustering through thinly veiled threats against their families and friends, for all of five minutes, he was stunned to find himself on a plane within the half hour. Starsky had seen him approaching the two young women and had listened in. The President was profuse in his embarrassed apologies. And the rest of the visitors were put on notice. This kind of behavior was not only not going to be tolerated, it wouldn’t work. There was no way to “secretly” coerce a Sentinel.
Much more open-minded and charismatic than any of his colleagues, the Director of the CIA was able to intrigue two of the twenty something Sentinels into considering careers with his organization. Then, the visitors found out something that had not been made public. Yet.
After dinner the third night the visitors were at the Estate, an impromptu dance was held in the Grand Ballroom. JD and Tim McGee, a young man from Gibbs’s team, set up the DJ stand and undertook to play a mix of songs for dancing and singing. Warwick Brown, friend and colleague of Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders, took over after awhile and really got the party moving. Smiling broadly at his friends, he played a song he knew would bring Greg to his feet, and he knew that would bring Nick to his, loathe as he’d be in this crowd to let his Guide dance with anyone else. Starsky also led Hutch out, laughing and tugging his semi-reluctant Partner. Jesse Travis looked so hopeful that Steve Sloan accepted the hand the pulled him onto the floor as well.
Despite this, the implications of the dancers was not apparent until the end of the song. Starsky
pulled Hutch into a romantic dip, kissing him soundly. Nick, anticipating the slow song he suspected Warwick had planned to play next, had pulled Greg into a close embrace. Tony, having danced the quick song with Abby Scuito, friend and workmate, had returned to Gibbs, playfully moving to half-sit on the older man’s lap and stealing his beer.
To say that the various military men were disconcerted was an understatement. All the visitors looked completely stunned. Gay? Were all Sentinels gay? Their shock and dismay was starting to become a bit overwhelming, especially to the younger, unBonded Sentinels, when Jim Ellison, former repressed asshole, started to laugh. He’d been standing in a quiet corner, watching Blair, who was standing quietly in another corner. This is what he’d done. He’d refused to accept everything, and he ended with nothing.
Striding onto the dance floor, before anyone else could speak up, he pulled his old Captain’s command voice out and demanded quiet. Turning to the Pairs, he said, softly, “They didn’t know. They’ve been blindsided. Give them a moment to adjust.” Turning to the agitated politicians and soldiers, he spoke more harshly, “Will you give up something wonderful because of something private and not part of the job you want these men—and women—to do? Do you think being lovers make them any closer than Bonding? None of these men is military. Your DADT has nothing to do with them, with us.”
The room grew silent, as the implications struck everyone in different ways. Amazingly resilient, the various military and governmental men were all quick to consider the possibilities of seeming the most open-minded.
Jim, meanwhile, was striding across the floor, not back to his own corner, but to Blair’s, his Guide’s, once upon a time and, hopefully, soon, once again. “Blair,” he said, “Blair. One more time, please, forgive me. I think I finally, finally, have it right.”
Blair closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, retreating physically and mentally as he tried to pull his emotions in. He’d thought he had finally separated himself from Jim, and it had hurt, hurt badly, and now, again, he was being asked to make the sacrifice of his heart. If he took this step, how could he ever cope if Jim decided, once again, that Blair was not worthy of his trust?
Every eye and quite a number of heightened ears were focused on the quiet corner. The drama of the moment outweighing the previous homophobic freakout (which it had been, however briefly). Was it to be this simple? Did Blair still want Jim after everything that had happened.
Apparently, he did.
end