Blue Steel

By Crimson and Chrome 42

Summary: What do Zoe Plummber and Abby Scuito have in common? A lot more than you might think. Disclaimers implied. Ratings may change.

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The opening strains of Bon Jovi's "Who Says You Can't Go Home" played through the darkness of the room. Zoe Plummber cracked an eye; the bright blue glow of her actively ringing cell phone assaulted her retina. She sighed, it was her mom calling. It was only 10:30, but she hadn't been to sleep in seventy-two hours (not even light dozing), let alone to bed. She was running on the fumes of stale fumes.

For a fraction of a second Zoe considered just not answering her phone, but she quickly dismissed the idea. It had been a couple of weeks since she'd talked to her mom and Julie Plummber observed the "no calls after 10 pm, unless it's an emergency" rule.

Reaching to the bedside table, Zoe retrieved the offending noise-making machine and flipped it open. "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Zoe." With that one word, her name, her mother managed to convey all of her anxiety, sadness, fear, and horror.

Zoe sat up fast, she was now wide awake. "Mom, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked urgently.

Zoe vividly remembered the night that she found out her dad had been killed; her mom had sounded exactly like this—said her name exactly the same way. For a moment, she felt as if she'd gone back in time to that dreadful night.

On the other end of the line Julie Plummber sniffed and then took a deep breath before answering. "It's Shane, Zoe."

Her blood ran cold. "He's been shot." Julie stifled a sob.

Zoe had to pull her wits about her. No reason to panic, yet. She needed to get the full report first. "What happened?"

"I don't know much. They said he was on a mission—they wouldn't tell what it was. Then they said something about an office or warehouse or something for reconnaissance —that's what they called it, reconnaissance. Anyway, someone came in and surprised him and…" she broke off and stifled another sob.

Not much info to go on—none at all, really. But there was something more she needed to know. "Where was he hit?" Zoe asked cautiously.

"In the chest, just below the heart."

Chest wound, just below the heart, serious, but not necessarily fatal. "How is he doing?"

"He's in surgery now—they won't tell me where. They don't know for sure, but the doctors think he'll make it."

Zoe felt relief creeping into her body. "Did they tell you what caliber he was shot with?"

"No, they didn't tell me. But it had to be something small, right?"

"Where was his backup?"

At that moment, Zoe became aware of the opening strains of "Who Says You Can't Go Home" playing around her. That was odd; she was already talking to mom.

"I spent 20 years trying to get out of this place
I was looking for something I couldn't replace
I was running away from the only thing I've ever known
Like a blind dog without a bone
I was a gypsy lost in the twilight zone
I hijacked a rainbow and crashed into a pot of gold
I been there, done that and I ain't lookin' back on the seeds I've sown,
Saving dimes, spending too much time on the telephone
Who says you can't go home…!" The song played on, now Jennifer Nettles joined in Jon's vocals.

Then, very suddenly, she wasn't in her room anymore. She wasn't talking to her mom on her cell, either. She was on her couch, in her living room. The TV was playing—"The Crow" (the first one, with Brandon Lee). She must've fallen asleep.

Zoe looked at the clock, 8:30. Her cell phone was still ringing. She didn't feel like dealing with the latest family drama at the moment. Better to wait and tackle it in the morning. She'd let it go to voice mail.

Hopefully she could get back to sleep. That dream always rattled her. Because, of course, that wasn't how it had played out that night. Shane had been shot, that was true. It had been a chest wound, just under the heart, that was also true. But she hadn't assessed the damage or asked the question about the gun caliber or about his backup. The doctors hadn't been able to save him. His lungs and stomach had filled with blood and he'd basically drown. It took him fifteen minutes to die; he'd been DOA at the hospital.

A.N. I was so surprised that no one else had thought to do a Pacifier/NCIS crossover! So that's my first chapter, what do you think? I am currently working on chapter 2 and hope to have it up soon.

Cheers! KP