Here's to the Miracles
Author: Help I'm A Rock
Summary: Tony looked up and Kate quickly looked away. She'd been playing this game for almost an hour; Her looking at him absent-mindedly, chewing on her pencil, then he'd look up and she'd look away in the nick of time and unfortunately, it seemed he was catching on. Tate.
Warnings: T. That's it really.
Disclaimer: Not mine. You'd know if it was, because Twilight wouldn't have happened. But then again, who wants a teenage girl writing an international TV series?
A/N: My first NCIS fic. So be nice. The chapters aren't too long because the plot will be revealed to fast. This is like flangst; a delicious flan of bittersweet chocolate and honey. Some bits sweet and fluffy and the rest, just a tad depressing, all baked at 180C, or for you Fahrenheiters 350 degrees. Serve promptly.
Tony looked up and Kate quickly looked away. She'd been playing this game for almost an hour; Her looking at him absent-mindedly, chewing on her pencil, then he'd look up and she'd look away in the nick of time and unfortunately, it seemed he was catching on.
Kate's drawing was nearly complete; all she had to finish was filling in Tony's eyes. Such a deep, liquid-y blue, Kate though to herself almost aloud, discovering she was now gazing directly into his eyes and he was doing the same into hers.
She broke the stare awkwardly and pretended to be working on something important.
Fortunately enough for Kate, a welcome distraction graced them in the form of a scream.
'My bones and organs!' McGee cried from the elevator.
'Suck it in!' Ducky offered.
Both their voices sounded as if they were being squashed by something of considerable weight and sure enough, in they came, wheeling a grand piano. The parade was followed by a calm Gibbs who seemed pretty nonchalant about the fact there was a grand piano in the bullpen.
Kate raised an eyebrow.
'Hey boss,' Tony said inquisitively. 'Why…'
'My house is being fumed for termites.' Gibbs said calmly. 'Do you have a problem with the piano DiNozzo? Is it in your way?'
'No boss.' Tony said nervously.
It was obvious Gibbs was quite proud of his piano and Tony dared not question it. Gibbs knew this and left the room in his own smug, but not quite, way. The 'Gibbs' way.
Kate got up out of her seat to examine the piano. She carefully slid the drawing into the bottom drawer of her desk.
'Bechstein…' She muttered, circling it once.
'What's that?' Tony asked, fiddling with a rubber band.
'It's the make of the piano; Bechstein.' She murmured. She remembered her Nonna having one like this when she was little. She used to sit Kate up at the seat on top of some old telephone books and teacher her songs like Ashokan Farewell and Love Song by Bach.
'You play, Katie?' He asked, stretching the band and then loosening it.
'When I was younger…' She said.
'Play us a tune then.' Tony cooed. Kate rolled her eyes and sat herself back at the desk. She would finish the drawing later; he was getting wise.
'Case!' Gibbs shouted from the elevator. Kate, Tony and McGee got up from their desks and walked quickly to the elevator, narrowly avoiding the piano that was domineering most of the bullpen.
'What is it Gibbs?' Kate asked.
'A brother and sister, found dead in an town house garden. Mother fled the scene. They only just filled me in.' He spoke gruffly. 'Wait til we get to the scene, I'll be able to tell you more then.'
When they did eventually reach the scene, Kate wasn't the only one shocked.
Two small, dirt smeared children lay in the middle of a garden bed; the boy holding the girl close to his chest. Both were badly bruised and the spitting rain made the scene even less bearable.
A medic greeted them with 'Sarah and James Parker, aged six and four, found dead sometime in the last five hours.'
Kate had and urge to be sick but she held it in.
They walked further into the jungle of flashing lights and worried tenants.
Kate could see the unease on Tony's face and even Gibbs'. Tony looked at her warmly, expecting her to be as she was, frightened but composed, and hoping to somehow help.
Kate looked back at him, but not returning the warmth in her stare.
Immature DiNozzo. He couldn't possibly understand… She lied to herself.
Kate bent down next to the children. Even through her gloves, she could feel how cold their skin was. It was firm and slippery. There was no life to it and it seemed hard to believe that there ever was.
She stood up and turned to find Gibbs who was talking to the medics.
'We were called by one of the tenants at about 0800. She was out getting her washing before it got too wet and she said she found them here.' He said. Gibbs nodded.
'What was the time of death?' Gibbs asked, nodding at Kate, to let her know he knew she was there.
'We think about sometime early this morning. Possibly 0300.' The medic replied. 'I'll leave you two to it.'
'Yes, Kate?' Gibbs asked.
'Can I sketch today?' Kate asked nervously, like she was at school again, asking for permission to go to the bathroom, or for a tissue.
'Why?' Gibbs asked simply. He knew why, but he wanted to hear it from Kate.
'I…' Kate mumbled.
'We all have our cases that hit close to home.' Gibbs said. 'And if you can't hack it, then-'
'Please Gibbs.' Kate pleaded, in a determined more than pleading way.
'Find DiNozzo.' Gibbs said and he walked off to find the medic.
Kate approached Tony cautiously. She tried to convince herself that she was just being childish. It didn't work.
'I'm sketching today.' She stated, holding out her hand for the pencil. Tony looked up.
'What?' He asked. 'But I just got started.'
Kate could see the fear in his eyes too, not wanting to realise how easy it is to die. She almost felt guilty for a second.
'Pencil.' She stated again, thrusting her hand closer.
Tony sighed and got up from the garden chair he'd found.
'Fine.' He said bitterly, and brushed past her into the crowd of chaos.
Kate sat down in the seat, pulled her coat around her and began sketching.
She went over Tony's lines. He had a good sense of perspective, she noted. He hadn't yet got to drawing the children, though. Their bodies were mere outlines, like white chalk around a body.
Kate began shading with passion.
She imagined the two children alive. It was hard, but she could see the girl, smiling. He lips like petals. The boy's cheeks a rosy red.
Her lines deepened. The drawing likened to the two limp forms. Kate almost felt culpable for giving them too much life.
The rain drizzled onto the paper, making the lead smudge.
Someone called her name, and instinctively, she stood up.
But not before signing her name at the bottom and smiling to herself.
'Jazz.' Tony said aloud.
'Pardon?' Kate asked.
'Bechsteins are good jazz pianos, are they not?'
Kate wasn't sure if he was flirting or just fishing for an ego boost. She played along.
'Yeah…'
'Do you know if Vince Jones uses one?' He asked.
Kate raised an eyebrow.
'What's with all the questions, and whatsmore, how do you know about Vince Jones?'
Tony feigned offence.
'You honestly don't think I know a good jazz musician when I hear one?'
Kate scoffed.
'Yes, actually.' She said, almost laughing. 'Tony DiNozzo listens to jazz music.'
'Does that surprise you?' He asked, in a tone that could be considered serious. Kate shrugged. The truth was, she didn't know.
'Yeah, well.' Tony said, getting up. 'It doesn't surprise me.'
'What doesn't?' Kate asked.
'Your underestimation.'
A/N: I know you're probably sick of people hounding you for them, but I'd love a review or two.
I've written the next chapter and I have the story planned, but reviews make a difference in motivation and ideas; tell me your ideas please.
Darcie