A Life Behind Bars

by fashiongirl97

When all is said and done, all anyone wants is to be happy, whether that be thanks to something big or small. When the team go into the bar one evening, they expected nothing more than to wake up the next morning with a hangover. Except what they get caught up in is something very different all together. With Drugs, Crime and pain on the cards, does happiness stand a chance? AU

1. Drink in my hand

Disclaimer – I don't own NCIS or the song

Authors note – here goes another one! Hope you all enjoy, it's AU. Kate died but marrow never left. Ziva is still at Mossad as I couldn't worm her into this one unfortunately. The first chapter is a re-post but the rest is not. It's set around season 3-5, not sure which one yet, sorry.

Italics indicate a flashback.

And i want to quickly say an enormous thanks to Left My Heart in Paris, because she has been a really good friend to me and seriously cheered me up these last few days, so thankyou Meg!

Anyhow, hope you all enjoy!

-Life Behind Bars-

Thursday, 11pm

"You're dealing in my bar!" she shouted at the twenty something man who stood in front of her. His hair was dark brown and slicked back with gel, his shirt white and open neck. A young lad who'd she'd got working for her when she first opened the Duke two and a half years ago. He'd been young, innocent and just wanting to make some money whilst he went through college. Now, after training him up and teaching him the ways of the world here he stood. Her aunt had had suspicions when he started passing small packets of stuff over the bar. Then an hour ago he'd had some rough looking guy out in the bar. Her aunt and come and got her. After walking round the back she'd seen him stuffing two kilo packets of white stuff in his locker.

"Aww come on! Like this place is really as clean as you think!" He shouted back. When she'd bought this place three years ago she'd had a dream of creating a pub, a clean pub with no fights, and no dealing. Three years on she had her dream. For dealing they were chucked out, for fighting they had another life, and for anything else she kept a book with three strikes in it. It sounded like a pre-school thing but it worked, it meant marines could return from duty and not have to worry, with keys put behind the bar on order of the third drink and a sticky note with name on top her bar had become frequented by many marines.

"Oh, believe me, I know everything that goes on here, now, I want you to get out of my bar this instant, d'you here me? I want you out on your ear. You'll get your owed pay, but I don't wanna see ya around here no more." She responded, she knew she couldn't know everything but she tried her hardest and to know what went on she had to trust her staff, something that she couldn't do if one member was not on the same side as the rest of them were.

"Oh come on . . ." He was trying to find leverage, get her to give in, but if the look that was currently in her eye was anything to go by then he knew his chances were slim.

"No, that's it. Empty your locker." And with that she returned to the bar and began to serve her customers. Putting on a smile, she chatted away to the regulars who always cracked jokes as she worked. She smiled sympathetically at the ones wanting to drown their sorrows and honoured the ones who'd just returned from protecting their country.

Friday, 9pm

Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Abby Scuito, Ducky Mallard and a reluctant Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked into 'DC's Duke' bar just outside the Navy Yard. Marines often went here, but so did NCIS Agents, knowing they could go somewhere that was clean. Now, these agents walked into the bar as they did every Friday, only this time they had managed to get their boss to come too. "Alright, you lot get a booth, I'll deal with the drink, Abs with me!" Said Tony as he watched his friends go over and get a booth. The bar was comfy, and warn in. Nothing fancy but not run down. On the right hand side stood the bar, slightly rounded and wooden. The floorboards were original and glossed. Around the edge were booths, brown tan leather with bronze studding around the edge, dark wood tables, and matching bar stools. At the far end was a small stage, which when busy often became seating too. But the real reason was that the owner loved to play guitar and although sometimes she played sat on the edge of the bar, sometimes she played on stage. But what made this bar unique was not only the walls which hung with pictures of visitors who regularly came but also that she somehow managed to get big name bands to come and play. Then, on occasions buskers would come inside and play away. One wall had pictures of fallen marines, and messages to those away at sea, messages to everyone. There was even a proposal of marriage somewhere amongst the black writing. That was what made this place so busy, the fact it was like no other bar - anywhere.

"Eye Eye Captain!" Said the bubbly Goth saluting.

"Wrong hand Abs." the Italian responded light heartedly. Abby just laughed and followed him to the bar. Both sat down on stools and waited to be served. The young red head who owned the place walked over wearing a gentle smile. Tony admired her whilst Abby simply rolled her eyes.

The red head wore a white shirt, rolled up at to the elbows, as all bar staff did - only hers was baggy and tucked in to a pair of faded grey jeans with which she wore a pair of high heeled black leather pumps. On her wrists were handfuls of bracelets and on her nails was bright orange nail varnish. Her makeup was light, with just a natural look but she had perfect features. Her red hair was tied in a high messy bun. She looked at the two with a natural smile which told everyone that she loved her job."What can I get ya?" she questioned, surprisingly enough in an English accent, but not one of those stereotypical snobbish ones, a natural Yorkshire accent that everyone loved.

"Well darlin' I'll have two beers." He said in a fake cockney accent.

"Three." Added Abby, noticing how Tony was checking out the other woman.

"Sorry, make that three, one scotch on the rocks." He added as the lady placed them in front of him rolling her eyes at the accent that appeared once again.

"That all sugarplum?" she questioned in a Yankee accent making Tony laugh.

"And one bourbon: neat."

"Bourbon, acquired taste that." She commented with a smirk as she walked over to the bottle in the corner and poured a shot into the clear glass before placing it down with the rest of the order.

"Paint thinner more like." Commented Tony, as he handed over the correct money.

"Yeah? Know someone who would disagree." She commented, nodding to an older red head who was serving the other end of the bar whilst chatting away and flirting too.

"DiNozzo! You getting those drinks or what?" shouted an older silver haired man from the corner where the rest of the group was seated.

"Well then 'DiNozzo', guess you'll be going." She said with a cute smirk forming on her lips before walking off. Next thing Tony knew he was being head slapped, by Abby who had her head tilted and wore a knowing look. He just glared at her before they both returned over to the booth the rest of the team had secured for them and began to dish out the tray of drinks to their corresponding owners.

"What?! I'm only doing what Gibbs would do! After all, I thought you were giving up on women!"

"Yeah…" He began laughing. "About that . . ."

Behind the bar the two women were busy serving drinks. "What would'you give him then Ali?" questioned the older redhead to her niece as she smiled at the customer she was currently serving.

"A lot more that you'd give him." Replied the younger red head: Alison Shepard. Ali had grown up in the UK, gone to boarding school and barely ever seen her parents who were high ranking marines in the Royal Navy. Summers had been spent in camp until she had rung her Aunt Jenny who was a US cop, and asked her if she could go over there for her summers as she was sick of summer camp. Of course her aunt had been more than pleased. At the age of 18 Alison had gone to London University to study law and then become a police officer with the Met. and follow in her auntie's footsteps. Only in her third year she had given up after realising it was not what she wanted to do and moved over to the states. When her aunt had been shot whilst on a raid in DC Ali had gone over to see her. She'd been working as a barmaid down in Miami, but when she saw the old storage shed just outside of the Navy Yard she'd decided to spend her inheritance off of her grandparents on it. Six months later she'd been doing it up. Her Aunt had left the police, and with money under her belt from the years in the PD and a million dollar inheritance that she'd never touched, Jenny Shepard had decided to spend her life helping out her niece seeming as she was no longer fit for service.

"Why's that?" Asked the older woman, as she put the money into the till.

"Because; according to him Bourbon is paint thinner." Laughed Ali, and as she went back to work Jenny cast a look over at the table the man had retreated to. There were two younger men, and a young woman who looked like they were the ones dominating the conversation, all drinking beer. An older man who was drinking scotch and looked to be the occasional domineer when he felt the topic needed changing, then the other man. He had salt and pepper hair, eyes that were a piercing blue, he was fit, muscles that were large and strong. She looked at him drinking bourbon, strong and silent. And at the same moment he looked over and caught her eyes. Her bright green eyes, and her blazing red hair. She wore a tailored white blouse and looked completely different and yet similar too to the other younger red head too. Yet she was beautiful. Only when Ali called her aunt they broke away, too soon for both of them.

"Hey Jenny, can you go down to the basement and change the barrel?" questioned Ali after failing to poor a pint for a waiting customer.

"Course I can." Replied the older Shepard before heading to the door behind the bar.

"You need a hand with that darling, from a strong man?" Questioned one of the marines with a wink which made both red head's laugh – some things never did change where customers were concerned.

"Oh if only you knew!" The older red head stated with a wicked smirk on her face. The she went, disappearing and leaving her niece to work.

"Hey red!" One of the regular Navy officers shouted.

"Hey! What can I get ya?" She questioned with a smile to the familiar officer who often came to the bar and always smiled and chatted away.

"So . . . seeming as I've returned after protecting the country and everything." He said flexing his muscles.

"Seeming as?" She replied with a knowing smirk, leaning on the bar.

"Well, how about you give us a song, eh?" He questioned.

"I dunno Jack." She responded. And before she knew it the whole bar was chanting 'sing'. So with the crowd chanting and her laughing she grabbed the old guitar from where it hung which she'd got from a boyfriend back when she was in secondary school, and sat on the bar with her feet on a stool. "Okay! Seeming as you all asked ever so nicely. This, is drink in my hand by Eric Church. So, here goes you loadda pain in the ass guys:" And with that she went into a world of her own as she began to strum the beet with her orange painted nails and bracelets that went up her arms. One leg dangled down off of the bar whilst the other rested on the bar stood next to her. And as she went on Tony Dinozzo sat in his chair, eyes fixed on the girl playing away. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed occasionally, as she watched finger or looked up. She looked beautiful and snag so too.

"Early Monday morning to Friday at five,
Man I work work work but I don't climb climb climb,
Boss man can shove that overtime up his can,
All I wanna do is put a drink in my hand ,

"Fill it up I'll throw it down,
I got a forty hour week worth of trouble to drown,
No need to complicate it I'm a simple lass,
All you gotta do is put a drink in my hand,

"Yeah the parking lot is muddy can't get to the door,
I take my jacked up drop er down in 4x4,
Chill down a long neck, warm up the band,
All you gotta do is put a drink in my hand,

"Fill it up I'll throw it down,
I'm about to tear a new one in this old town,
All you gotta do is put a drink in my hand,"

And as she strummed the last few bars on her beet up, sticker clad old guitar the whole band sung along. "If you wanna impress me baby then here's my plan, all you gotta do is put a drink in my hand!"

And everyone laughed. As she sang, and the bar was fixated on her, Gibbs slipped to the back where her aunt stood watching, standing next to her he smiled. "She'd good."

"She is that." Stated the red head. "You're the bourbon guy huh?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing much, you got taste though."

"Not everyone would agree."

"I second that." And they both laughed. Smiling and feeling relaxed as they slipped out of the roles that were expected of them both.

"You erm," yet his invitation was cut off as his phone rang. "Sorry."

"It's fine." She said smiling and walking back to the bar. Gibbs sighed as he missed his chance.

"Yeah, Gibbs . . . on our way." Stated Gibbs. Work called, and they had a body even if they weren't on call. He just thanked god he had only had one small shot of bourbon and could still drive.

As the group left, Ali put her guitar back, and both of the Shepards got back to work. But as Gibbs and Tony went, both looked back on two women who had walked into their lives in one night. And both now slipped into work roles, all ideas of a fun evening were out of the window.

a/n- please leave me a review and tell me if you want more!