This is not mine.
I really should be working on some of my other fics, which I know I have not updated in a ridiculously long time, but I really like the idea I had for this one, so bear with me (and, though I try to avoid asking for reviews because it's really annoying, I do appreciate them). Hint hint.
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Kate wasn't even watching the movie. She was busy gobbling down some rice and fish she'd reheated from three nights ago, the last time she'd been home. They still hadn't solved the case they'd gotten the next morning, but Gibbs ordered his team home anyway, saying they all needed a rest.
It had started off fairly straightforward, as murders go. Dead body discovered, NCIS called in, crime scene processed, autopsy done...
They had, in the course of their investigation, stumbled onto strange activity in a warehouse a couple of blocks from where the body had been abandoned. Apparently, the now-deceased Lieutenant Baxter had stumbled onto what appeared to be a terrorist plot in the making, and had been killed for his trouble.
Unfortunately, the terrorists had escaped. Nobody liked it when terrorists escaped, except maybe the aforementioned terrorists, but Gibbs had done a decent imitation of a volcano when he learned that they had gotten away. Ever since that man had smuggled himself into Autopsy in a body bag, the MCRT's leader had gotten very touchy whenever justice did not prevail.
However, life had to go on. That was the funny thing about life, its incredible tenacity.
Finishing her food, Kate turned off the movie -what was it called? Arctic Blast?- and carried her dishes over to the counter. She was so exhausted that, for once, she didn't even bother to put them in the dishwasher before heading off to bed.
She woke up several hours later, confused and disoriented. The lamp on her bedside table was incredibly hard to turn on in the dark when one was half asleep, but she managed it, only to recoil and grasp fruitlessly under her pillow for her gun.
Not that it would have helped anyway.
Racial stereotypes aside, the man pointing a rifle at her face certainly looked like he could be a terrorist. Angry, vengeful eyes stared down the gun's barrel at her.
"Move."
Zombie-like as was perhaps justified at -a quick glance at her wall clock verified that it was in fact three in the morning, Kate marched out of her room and down the hallway to her door. Out of her apartment, not even allowed a break to get her shoes on. Into the street.
A monster with a gun followed her.
"Get in the car".
Self-preservation? That human trait that causes so much destruction: the biological programming to follow orders? Her own training as to what one was supposed to do when threatened?
No, it was probably the gun to her head.
Whatever the reason, Kate did what she was told.
Naturally, the two men who had surprised her on the street shoved one of those new-style cloth shopping bags over her head as soon as she was in the car. Seat belts buckled, engine roared, and Kate was dragged off into the end of her world.
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Author's note: Please review! I will update as soon as possible. And can I get some prayers/good wishes/whatever you want to offer for my grandpa, who had surgery yesterday, and for one of my friends, who had to have a c-section to deliver a very adorable baby?