Storm or Draugheru is Tim McGee, he will only be referred to as McGee or Tim unless one of the others from Earth is addressing him, and even then, they're likely to use the name he goes by here. Storm is his name when he is at Bree, and the name the hobbits know him as, as Strider is to Aragorn. Everyone else will call him Draugheru. Wolf or Guardian are Jethro who was a dog, but is now a wolf as a reminder.

"Estel, get some sleep," Draugheru told the man.

"But I need to keep watch," Estel argued back. Three of the hobbits were sleeping, the other two were not.

Draugheru shook his head. "You hardly slept on the way here, we were too busy traveling. And while you have gotten sleep since we arrived, you will likely not sleep much on the way back to Imladris either. So you need to get sleep while you can. I will keep watch if it concerns you that much."

"Fine."

At that moment, the slumbering hobbits woke up suddenly. A pulse of dark intentions had woken them. A screech sounded through the night, causing all to wince, as the elf covered his ears.

As the sound passed, they all relaxed, though the man and elf were still slightly tense.

"What was that?" Pippin asked.

"That would be the Ringwraiths discovering your decoys," at their confused faces he added, "you've been calling them Black Riders."

Sam started speaking again. "Why are they after the Ring exactly? And I know you trust Longshanks here, but I don't like the feel of him," he added, as he had been addressing Storm.

Storm sighed.

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

Seven for the dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne,

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie," he spoke solemnly. "The nine were corrupted by their rings, and became enslaved by Sauron. He is their master and they are to bring the ring to him, so he can regain his full strength."

Four of the Hobbits shivered in terror, the fifth sighed and looked down, he was already aware of this.

Suddenly the door burst open. Storm and Strider leapt up, drawing their swords. Storm flipped his hood over his head and tensed before shaking his head. Strider sighed and relaxed as a man cowered under the threat of decapitation. Storm kept his hood up, but sheathed his sword, scowling at the interruptions.

"Sorry for bursting in so late, but I just remembered something, that is, Gandalf left me a letter to give to a certain hobbit, with cherry red cheeks and..." The barman rambled.

"Is it addressed to Frodo then?" Draugheru interrupted, not in the mood to deal with his rambling.

"Well, yes, Storm, sir. He gave it to me back in June, and told me to have it sent to Hobbiton as soon as possible but I couldn't find anyone to take it and it slipped my mind."

"You didn't think of going yourself?" Strider interjected coldly. Wolf lifted his head and growled a little, sensing the mood of his master and friend.

The barman squeaked. "Here's the letter, sirs, I best be going now." He handed over the letter and beat a hasty retreat. Storm couldn't help but laugh lightly.

Strider passed the letter to Frodo. "Gandalf did not inform me that he had written a letter, then again it has been since about June since anyone had heard from him."

The Ringbearer opened the letter, scanned it. He looked up briefly. "All that is gold does not glitter?"

Strider quickly finished the poem, all 7 of the other lines. It was enough for Frodo who began to read the letter aloud.

"Dear Frodo,

Bad news has reached me here. I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag End soon, and get out of the Shire before the end of July at latest. I will return as soon as I can; and I will follow you, if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here, if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord (Butterbur). You may meet a friend of mine on the Road: a Man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider. He knows our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There I hope we may meet again. If I do not come, Elrond will advise you.

Yours in haste

GANDALF.

PS. Do NOT use It again, not for any reason whatever! Do not travel by night!

PPS. Make sure that it is the real Strider. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn.

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him.

Fare Well!"

"Does that ease your fears, Samwise?" Storm asked gently.

The hobbit huffed, but was interrupted by Merry and Pippin.

"That old barman does deserve a roasting, it's been months."

"Yeah, we might not have met those Black Riders."

"And we'd be safe in Rivendell by now," Tony added his opinion.

Frodo shook his head fondly at the three before addressing Strider. "So your true name is Aragorn?"

"Aye it is, though I have gathered many names throughout my years of traveling."

Sam huffed again.

Frodo gave Strider an apologetic look before turning to Sam. "Wouldn't you think a servant of the enemy would look fair and feel foul? Strider looks foul and feels fair."

"Oh fine Mr. Frodo, I'll trust him."

Storm chuckled under his breath. "As it's still completely dark out, I wager it would be a good idea for everyone to try to get some more sleep, it's going to be a long few days."

Frodo and Sam agreed, but the other three hobbits groaned theatrically like little kids. Strorm gave them a 'I-am-not-amused' look that rarely worked on anyone he had come to know. All the three did was sit back on the bed.

Storm leant down and whispered a few words of elvish into Wolf's ear. The wolf yipped and jumped onto the bed, effectively trapping the three hobbits on the huge bed and forcing them to lay down and be comfortable. There were three yelps of shock and then groans.

"Now you have no choice, sleep," the elf ordered before turning his gaze to Strider.

"I think you learned some tricks from Elladan and Elrohir," the man grinned.

"Of course I did, it was the only way to survive around those two."

"Don't I know it," Estel admitted ruefully.

"Do I have to pull a trick to get you to sleep to?" Draugheru threatened.

"No, no, I'll be good, see?" Estel responded, laying down on the floor with his blanket, and closing his eyes.

Draugheru snickered softly. "Good night, Estel." There was no response; the man had already fallen asleep.

(Next morning)

Storm came back from talking with Butterbur with a disgruntled look. "All the horses were released last night. I'm going to go see if I can find one to buy." He glanced at the hobbits as if to decide which one to bring with. "Tony, why don't you come along?"

"If you want me to."

"I cannot leave five hobbits with Strider, particularly when three of them are immature."

Tony sighed, and stood up. He adjusted his clothes slightly and started walking out the door. "Let's go then."

Storm put a hand on his shoulder to stop the hobbit and turned towards the room. "Estel, I'm leaving Guardian with you."

"Very well," the man responded absent-mindedly from where he was checking his weapons.
Storm chuckled, and then allowed Tony to leave the room. He shut the door and turned to the hobbit. Said hobbit twisted and looked up, huffing.

"McGee, I can't believe you're here too! And why did you get to be an elf? Do you know how difficult it is to be clueless and naïve? It suits you better, plus you're the one that's going to get to fight later on. And you're a wimp, you wouldn't last ten minutes in a fight like the one they're going to face in-" Storm covered the hobbits mouth and ignored the smaller being licking his hand.

"Someone's coming," he hissed. "We can speak of this later."

Butterbur stopped and stared at them.

Storm plastered an amused smile on his face. "I wish Strider had warned me that Hobbits were so talkative, I had no idea how to shut him up."

Butterbur laughed heartily, before becoming as solemn as an air-headed bartender could get. "We have found only one horse left in Bree, and it belongs to Bill Ferny. It will cost you some if you really want to buy it."

Storm sighed. "I was afraid of that. Very well, lead on." He removed his hand from Tony's mouth finally and placed his hand on the hobbit's shoulder instead.

(about an hour later)

Sam was feeding the pony they had bought, who he named Bill. The poor pony was all skin and bones, and none of the party had the heart to put too much luggage on the pony's back.

Unfortunately, since they had bought quite a few supplies while they were there, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were having slight issues with the weight of their packs. Tony and Frodo might have as well, but they weren't complaining or showing discomfort like their companions.

Storm looked up from where he was checking on Wolf. He chuckled at the discomfort for a moment before looking back at Wolf. He grinned slightly.

Not long later, they were ready to set out of Bree, with a pony bearing a few bags, and a wolf bearing a few others. And the hobbits with reduced packs.

"Wolf won't be carrying bags the whole journey, just for the first few days," Storm warned the hobbits. "By then you should be able to handle the added weight." He ignored Tony, who crossed his arms and was obviously trying not to say anything, though none of the other hobbits noticed.

Strider arrived after speaking with Butterbur for the final time. "Are we ready to leave then?" he asked Storm.

"Yes, we are," Storm answered.

The man looked over the hobbits, noticing (not for the first time) the odd actions of Tony, and smiling as Sam ate one apple, while feeding another to the pony. His gaze stopped on the wolf.

"Do I want to know?" he asked Storm.

"The hobbits had too much weight they weren't used to. Wolf is fine with it." Storm shrugged.

The man, elf (once again disguised as a man), five hobbits, wolf, and pony made an odd sort of parade as they walked down the street to the exit. Most of Bree were watching, peeking out of windows, standing in the streets, pretending not to watch.

Sam was the last hobbit, leading the pony, and Storm was behind him. "Now who's that swarthy looking man there?" he asked quietly, referring to a man who looked far dirtier and meaner than the rest of the people.

Storm glanced at the man. "That's the man who we bought Bill from."

The hobbit scowled and threw his apple at the man, hitting him square on the nose. The man yelped and ducked out of sight, cursing loudly.

"Nice aim, Samwise. That could prove useful on the journey," Storm commented.

"But it was a waste of a good apple," Sam grumbled as he tried to catch up to Pippin, who was in front of him.

Storm just laughed loudly, startling a few of the people around them. And then they were gone from Bree, and off into the wilderness.

And they were not having fun. Take five hobbits who's only protection on their feet is the hair on top of their feet, and them not wearing shoes, and by the end of the day of going at a brisk pace without break for food...

Everyone was relieved to stop for the night. The hobbits so they could tend to the blisters that were forming on the soles of their feet. They may have done a lot of walking before, but that was more leisure walking, not the walking they were now doing. The man and elf however... they had headaches forming from the complaints from four of five hobbits.

Frodo didn't complain, he was the oldest at 50 and the most mature; Sam was 12 years younger, Merry 2 years younger than Sam, and Pippin was the youngest at 28; and Storm wasn't sure about Tony, he had claimed two years ago to be 35, but he always suspected Tony to be slightly older; either way, he was one of the least immature there.

"I'm going hunting," Storm announced as he pulled the bags and straps off of Wolf.

"You should take one of the hobbits with you... preferably Merry, Pippin, or Tony," Strider told him. "And I better get to hunt tomorrow."

The elf laughed. "Of course you will; we'll take turns." He turned to the hobbits and thought for a moment. "I'll take Tony again."

It took a few minutes for the hobbits to realize what he said, as they were too busy staring in awe at the glow he was emitting. They had been too tired and sore to notice that as it grew dark, the elf started glowing. But now that they had stopped, it had caught their attention quickly.

He waited patiently as Tony stood up, groaning theatrically. He picked up his bow and arrows, and set off with a hobbit in tow. He sent a look at Wolf who whined, but stayed put at the look from his 'master'.

After the two had gotten a good distance from camp, Tim looked at Tony. "You can speak as long as you speak quietly... or better yet, whisper."

"Why?" Tony asked defiantly, though he did say it quietly.

"Otherwise you'll scare away whatever I want to catch," Storm stated softly, as he peered through the trees, stepping lightly.

"Wait, McGoo, you're going to catch something?" Tony asked incredulously.

"I did learn something since April," Storm pointed out, still scanning the trees. He stopped suddenly, and put out his hand, indicating that Tony should stop as well. He held up his bow, and grabbed an arrow from the quiver. He stood there frozen for a while.

Tony started fidgeting, he couldn't see anything, and didn't know why Tim was just standing there.

Suddenly, the twang of the bow sang out, startling Tony enough that he fell over. Storm chuckled and pulled up the hobbit. "Come see what I caught."

It was a deer. Tony just stared. "What, how?"

"I was stuck as an elf in Imladris, I had to pick up some skills," Storm pointed out drily.

"But you're Probie! You don't do stuff like this," Tony protested. "You're just the tech geek who falls for pranks too easily."

At that, Storm snorted. "It's been 4 and a half months approximately, and there's no technology in Middle Earth. I had to adapt."

"But that's all you're good for!" Tony protested, "You're not like me or Ziva or like Kate was in the field, you're not meant for it."

Storm sighed. "That's because I was never actually given much of a chance. You even took away my chance at getting field experience in Iraq. If I had more experience in the field I could be like you or Kate, but no one could be like Ziva. But I'm only the computer geek, only good for typing on a computer and finding information and helping Abby."

The elf gently pulled his arrow out of the deer before lifting it up over his shoulder. "But if we get back, that won't be the case any longer," he vowed, "I've learned how to fight efficiently with knives and hand to hand. Maybe Vance will even allow me to train Jethro to be the first K-9 cop in NCIS."

Tony gaped at him. "B-but... I should be the elf, not you. Elves and men got all the action in the movies, the hobbits didn't."

Tim sighed. "But in the books, the hobbits had the hardest journeys and lessons to learn. I read the books, I know a lot of details you don't. I'm not planning on changing anything, but I'm going with the flow, Strider asked me to come with him to Bree, so I did. Don't change anything consciously, some things are better left the way they were."

Tony scoffed. "But Boromir could survive!"

Storm shook his head. "And then Denethor won't be upset when he thinks Faramir is dead and won't kill himself, so he will be a threat to Aragorn and won't allow Aragorn to be king. Think about it."

Tony scoffed again. "You're an idiot, Elflord. I still think I should be the elf, not you."

Storm couldn't help but grin; in a way, that is a compliment to elves. "If you say so. Let's go before they worry too much."

Without waiting for a response, he started nimbly picking his way through the forest, stopping every so often to make sure that Tony was keeping up.

The hobbit admired how he was so graceful. And then he scowled. That should be me! He thought. Not the Probie. He'll be useless, I won't be. He doesn't know the first thing about being in a real fight, he gets knocked down within the first minute. I could easily beat him. It never crossed the hobbit's mind that while that might have been true when they were both men, Storm, formerly Timothy McGee, now had the advantage of height, and grace over the stocky hobbit for Tony now had.