Chasing Frustration

062508

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the computer I'm posting this from. I'm just borrowing characters who were created by more imaginative people than I am.

Summary: A case involving the FBI and NCIS reunites old friends and ignites a new love for one of Gibbs' people.

Reviews: Yes, please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: This is a new thing for me. It's the first published story I've ever written that has no supernatural aspects to it at all. I realize that this chapter doesn't appear to be NCIS based but patience will be rewarded in the second chapter. This is a crossover between NCIS and Without A Trace. Well, if you squint, tilt your head and look really, really closely it is. I mean, get out the magnifying glass here. I borrowed the character of Grant Mars from W.A.T. because they didn't put him to good enough use, in my opinion. And because he was brought to life by the incredible James Marsters, therefore catching the attention of my very fickle, right now anyway, muse. This is more of a character driven story rather than case based. I'm getting my feet wet in a new genre so please don't be too harsh with me if there isn't enough action or excitement to suit you. I know nothing of law enforcement and I haven't watched a lot of NCIS, although the new DVD sets we have are fixing that lack, so I might be slightly inaccurate in my settings.

As stated in my disclaimer, I don't even own this computer. The unfinished chapters of The Demon Within and Resurrected are currently languishing in the comatose depths of my own laptop which I hope to have repaired within a couple of weeks but don't any of you hold your breath. I've been hoping that for 3 months.

Chapter 1

FBI Agent Grant Mars threw his keys onto the small table he'd placed next to the front door specifically to catch such items. At the same time he let a new leather case slide down and thump onto the floor gently. Wouldn't do to damage the contents, of course. Not after he'd spent most of his savings on the up-to-date laptop computer and had spent the final three weeks at his last job scanning boxes of information into it. That had been over a month ago and he was still trying to make sense of the information he'd so hurriedly saved onto the diabolical machine. Grant was more of a paper file kind of guy and, while he conceded the superior portability of the computer, he despaired ever being able to access his hard worked for information.

Relieved of that small burden, he next unhooked his shoulder holster and gun. A quick tap on the side of the table caused a door underneath the tabletop to swing open, he placed the gun and holster on the bottom shelf and his badge on the top. He shoved the door closed and it returned to its usual appearance of the table pedestal.

He walked wearily down the short hall that led to his miniscule living room. Weaving past several boxes, some of which were open while the rest were still taped shut, he pealed off his suit jacket on the way. He threw the lightweight wool blend onto the arm of the love seat, the largest piece of furniture in the room that in no way matched the old arm chair which sat at an angle from it. With frustrated irritation he tugged the silk tie from around his neck. His blue eyes scanned his surroundings with ill-concealed distaste. This tiny apartment had been all he could find when he'd had to move from Boston to DC. He shrugged, at least he hadn't lost his job completely. He grudgingly considered himself lucky in that respect. He'd underestimated the authority carried by the New York office Special Agent he'd defied. He was also very lucky he hadn't been pulled from the case completely. The transfer had come as a nasty surprise though.

The five foot ten inch detective kicked his dress shoes off into the corner next to the door that led to the apartment's only bedroom and made his way past several more open boxes that were spilling dishware and pans onto the floor and into the alcove that barely passed for a kitchen. He pulled the door of the refrigerator looking for something to eat but settled for a beer. His appetite had gone as missing as the women he looked for and it showed. His normally lean frame was beginning to border on gaunt while his high cheekbones had become slashes in his narrow face. Letting the door swing shut, his dark blue gaze settled on the small stack of take out menus that were already attached to the freezer door by a large magnet.

'Chinese tonight.' He decided as he set the beer down on the counter long enough to snag the appropriate piece of cardboard from under the magnet. He hooked his pinky finger around the neck of the brown bottle, let the rest of his fingers grasp the menu and made his way back into the living area. With his other hand, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began to dial. After placing the minimum order possible, he let his thin body fall onto the old but comfortable love seat. He let his head fall back onto the cushion as he nestled the beer bottle between his thighs. His sock covered feet found their way onto the edge of the sturdy oak coffee table. He gazed at the dingy off white ceiling for only a few seconds before thick dark lashes fluttered closed and he dozed until the delivery guy pounded on the door.

Grant ate what he could of his dinner. One thing he could say about the nation's capital, it did have good take out. He wrapped up the rest and stuck it in the fridge alongside other, older, abandoned cartons of various prior delivered meals, most of them of dubious age. He double checked all the security locks, gave the computer case a hate-filled glare and made his weary way into the Lilliputian sized bathroom. A quick shower, a barely-enough-to-dry-off toweling and he wended his way into the cluttered bedroom to fall into bed. He was asleep almost before his head hit the stack of pillows.

And so ended yet another day of dreary frustration for Federal Agent Grant Mars. He'd been living this way for more weeks than he cared to think about. What he didn't know, as he fell deeper into nightmare riddled sleep, was that tomorrow... his life was going to change...

TBC