A/N: This is the story I wrote for the NFA Can Anybody Hear Me? Challenge. It is AU, not drastically so. All the characters are pretty much the same, but there are a few dramatic differences, particularly in Tim's life...which you'll see as you read. I do make use of my own personal fanon for Tim's family, i.e. Sam and Naomi McGee. A summary of who they are can be found on my profile page.

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever own NCIS, real or fictional. I'm also not making money off these stories I right, but I'd take it. Man, even a penny per word would have me sitting pretty for a while. :)

A Familiar Voice...an Unfamiliar Face
by Enthusiastic Fish

Chapter 1

"Talk to me, McGee," Gibbs growled. "I can't see a thing in this soup."

"The man is located fifty feet ahead of you. He has taken shelter behind an overturned garbage bin. He has a clear shot on you if you stand up. You can't get him by yourself."

"You calculated the odds of this?" he asked dryly.

"I don't need to. Logic tells me without calculations. Based on your location, the fact that you can't see, and the fact that he appears to be equipped with infrared goggles, you're not going to be able to get him. I've called for backup. They should arrive in moments."

"That's not your call, McGee!" Gibbs said, now angry.

"Actually, it is. You are under my care for as long as you are out in the field. If I judge that circumstances are too dangerous for you by yourself, I have the authority to call out the cavalry. ...and I so judge."

Gibbs grumbled under his breath but was careful not to actually say anything aloud. Tim had amazingly accurate hearing.

"I thought you'd see it my way," Tim said and he might as well have been grinning mischievously...not that Gibbs would ever know. "They'll be there in about two minutes. I've instructed them to come around behind him. He'll never know what hit him."

Gibbs was surprised at the satisfaction in Tim's voice. He usually kept things very professional, without any comment on what Gibbs was doing, the case he was pursuing. He might as well be a machine, one just like the computers with which he interfaced. ...but every so often, Tim would remind Gibbs that he wasn't a machine.

"You seem to be taking this kind of personally, McGee," Gibbs said, killing time until his backup arrived. Every so often, he'd lean up and shoot toward the garbage bin, making sure that his suspect wouldn't flee. "It's not like you. What's up?"

Gibbs didn't expect a real response. Tim never talked about anything other than the case at hand. They were colleagues...of a sort. Not friends. So he was surprised when Tim answered, sounding...almost emotional.

"This man is suspected to have killed five LEOs in the last month. One was under my care." There was a long pause and when Tim spoke again, he had the strained tone of one trying to keep his emotions under control. "I do not...wish him to escape and do so again."

"And you don't want this to happen to me?" Gibbs asked, wondering, for nearly the first time, what the rest of Tim's life was like.

"No, I do not. You shouldn't have come out here without your team in the first place. It was reckless. You berate your team for not taking backup with them, but you do it every opportunity you get."

"I have backup."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. You."

Another long pause...and Tim's voice was strange and unfamiliar when he spoke again.

"I am...flattered, Agent Gibbs. I am not a part of your team, however."

"Oh, really? You've been my eyes in the skies for the last eight years. What would you call your position if not a part of my team?"

"I am..." Tim stopped and then when he resumed speaking was back to the usual professional tone. "Your backup has arrived. Agents DiNozzo and David are taking up flanking positions. They will need to speak with you. I have removed the firewall on your channel."

"Thanks. Tony, Ziva," Gibbs said, testing the connection as he did every time he reconnected with his team. Tim had never failed him once in that regard but old habits died hard.

"Here, Boss," Tony said. "Where's the dirtbag?"

"McGee already told us, Tony," Ziva said. "He has not moved from the garbage bin, Gibbs?"

Gibbs fired another shot toward the bin...and then ducked when there was a return volley.

"Nope. Still there."

"Excellent. This guy needs to be taken down before he gets anyone else."

"Agreed," Gibbs said, thinking of Tim's sudden expression of emotion. Sometimes, he did wonder about Tim, who he was, where he was. "Let's get him."

With the rest of his team, taking down their suspect was a cinch. He got only one more shot off before he was tackled by Tony and then roughly cuffed by Ziva.

"You okay, Boss?" Tony asked when the three joined up again.

"Not a scratch," he replied.

"You really should not wander off by yourself, Gibbs," Ziva said. "It is not safe."

"Our jobs aren't safe," Gibbs said. "That's the name of the game. If I had wanted to be safe all the time, I wouldn't be in this line of work. Get him out of here before I just kill him on general principle."

Ziva nodded stiffly and hauled their suspect away. Tony paused.

"I'm surprised you called for backup, Boss. I mean, I'm glad you did, but it's not like you."

"McGee called for backup. He took matters into his own hands."

"Really? McNurse Maid showed some backbone? Good for him. You can tell him that I approve."

Thwack!

"Get going, DiNozzo."

Tony smiled cheekily and saluted. "Yes, sir. Don't stay out here too long."

"I won't."

Tony followed Ziva to their car and Gibbs headed back toward his own.

"He's right, you know."

"You're not supposed to listen in after the case is closed, McGee," Gibbs said, although the reprimand wasn't serious.

"The case isn't closed. Not yet. So far, you have a suspect in custody. Time will tell as to whether or not he's the one you're looking for. So the case isn't over."

"You feeling your oats today or something, McGee? I don't think you've been so...assertive in the eight years I've known you."

"It's not safe for law enforcement to be out on the streets alone. Why do you think I'm here? Get in your car and to the safety of numbers."

Gibbs continued his walk, but also continued the conversation, interested in keeping Tim talking for as long as he would.

"If we don't assert our authority, we'll never push back against these criminals who have taken control of the streets."

"Perhaps, but you won't push back if you're dead. Corpses don't have much muscle tone. Just follow the rules, Agent Gibbs. At least when asserting your authority, do it with backup in place...and not just me. I'm not there." And then, again, for the first time, Tim revealed something about himself. "Even if I was there, I would be very little help to you. So get in your car."

Gibbs unlocked his car and got inside.

"I'm inside. Happy?"

"Yes. Have a safe journey. Signing off."

"Wait, McGee!" Gibbs said quickly.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs? Is there something else you need?" The professional tone was back.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

Another of those strange pauses. "Thanks are not required. I am simply doing my job, Agent Gibbs. Safe journey."

There was a nearly-inaudible click signaling the end of the conversation, although there would be a trace on him until he reached safety. Gibbs put his car in gear and drove back to NCIS. He had resisted the idea of getting an Observer eight years ago when this crime war had started...but the death of Chris Pacci had made him realize that sometimes it was necessary. Chris could have been saved if an Observer had been tracking his movements when he'd gone undercover. An Observer like Tim would have known that there was someone following him.

Keeping the Observers completely separate from the people they protected also helped. That meant there was little chance of forming the kind of bonds that would allow a LEO to persuade his Observer that it was the best choice to let him go off by himself.

And yet...

...Gibbs sometimes fell into the trap of forgetting that it was a real human being on the other end of the line. Tim sometimes spoke like a computer. He certainly must have amazing computer skills...but he was a human being. Tonight had proved that if nothing else had.

No one knew where the Observers watched from. Most of the LEOs assumed that there was a kind of Observer center where many Observers watched their charges together. Gibbs didn't think so. Tim struck him as a loner. Besides, there were no background sounds indicating the presence of others. Tim watched his charges by himself, Gibbs would swear to it.

While he would never know who Tim really was or what he looked like, Gibbs was glad to have him on his six.

Even out in the dangerous streets of DC, he felt safe knowing that Tim was watching him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim arched his back as he removed the head set. Gibbs was the most difficult charge he had. The other five officers he watched were less trouble...all put together. And yet, Gibbs was the one he cared most about, perhaps because he had been called on so often. One of Tim's charges was a retired sergeant who only rarely even left his house. Tim usually had him on automatic tracking. He would not deny anyone their right to protection, but this man seemed to think he was more important than he actually was.

The others went through ebbs and flows. Only Gibbs constituted that constant drain on his time.

Tim gave a wry smile as he watched the red blip moving across the screen, eventually taking up residence in the parking garage at NCIS. The smile became wistful. That was where he had always hoped to work. The dreams had been dashed by the car accident he'd been in at age sixteen, but he still had harbored a hope. Even now, he kept up with his exercises, hoping that, one day, his legs would be strong enough to hold him up.

Tim looked down at the braces encasing both legs and then forced himself to stand and totter to the bathroom. He was glad that he had some mobility, but he'd never be the kind of person he'd dreamed of being. Instead of doing...he observed.

"Tim, there are openings for that new Observer position. They need people watching the NCIS team leaders."

"Watching," Tim repeated dully.

"Those who can't do...watch."

"I thought those who couldn't do taught."

"Nope. They watch. You know the rules and regs for NCIS. You've had them memorized for years. You know all the procedures...and you might as well be a computer for how well you work with them. They'd count themselves lucky to have you on board."

Tim sighed. Every medical checkup sent his dreams further and further away from reality.

"I know this isn't what you wanted for your life, Tim, but it's the best you can do."

"You said that my legs would heal!" Tim protested.

"I said that they could heal, Tim, and I don't know why they're not. Maybe someday..."

But someday had never come and Tim was left a cripple, staring at a screen all day, watching others do the job he desperately wanted for himself.

...but tonight...tonight, Gibbs had managed to break through his veneer...and it had been so very easy to do. Tim smiled. Gibbs could never have any idea how much it meant to be called a part of his team...even if it wasn't true.

Briefly, as he sat back at his computers, Tim allowed himself to daydream about truly being Agent Timothy McGee, working with Gibbs and his team, fighting back in this crime war that gripped the nation.

Then, the dream faded and Tim shut down the non-essential electronics. He had already given up on the dream coming to fruition. He drew a solid paycheck as an Observer. He had access to the kind of circuitry and computer systems most hackers would kill for. ...and he got to at least interact with the agents. That was something.

"I can be happy with this. I know I can."

There was a helpful bark. Tim smiled. There was one thing that he would definitely never tell Gibbs.

"Jethro, you're as persistent as your namesake," he said with a smile. "Let's go out."

Jethro. Named after Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Tim felt it appropriate that the dog he'd been forced to adopt by one of his cyber friends, Abby Sciuto...who also worked at NCIS...should be named after the man he both protected and admired.

Tim got his racing wheelchair out and transferred over to it before letting Jethro push the buttons that would let them out of the apartment and into the foggy evening of Washington DC.