Rating: FR13

Genre: Angst

Characters: Michelle Lee and Daniel Keating

Warning: Spoilers for season 6: Last Man Standing, Cloak, and Dagger.

Summary: While on Gibbs' MCRT, Michelle reflects on her life. From the Random Pairing Generator result of Leroy Jethro Gibbs / Michelle Lee / shooting star.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters.

"Go, get out of here. We're done for the day." Gibbs said gruffly, releasing his new team from their end of the case paperwork.

Langer, who had only been pretending to work, was half way to the elevators before Gibbs turned to leave the bullpen. Lee and Keating took a few more minutes to shut down their computers and clean off their desks before they stood to leave.

Michelle was relieved to be going home early. She smirked humorlessly; early for MCRT meant they were leaving after dark but before ten o'clock. They didn't work these hours in Legal. Even though she'd worked with the MCRT two years ago, she hadn't become accustomed to the long stretches of work necessary to hunt down their suspects. She was tired, and it was a weariness that went beyond physical fatigue.

As she put on her suit coat, Michelle felt the envelope that she'd received that morning. She fingered it and wondered where Amanda was tonight. She'd already memorized the picture that had been sent to her. There was no expression on her little girl's face, which was almost worse than the fear that she'd shown in the pictures Michelle had received the first few months.

Michelle remembered her frantic search for Amanda when she failed to come home from her best friend's slumber party. She'd called every friend, drove by all of Amanda's favorite places, and was just about to call Metro police when she'd received a text with a picture of Amanda and a warning for her not to go to the authorities.

Michelle had wanted to disobey, to go to Agent Gibbs and ask him for the MCRT's help. They hadn't been close, but they were her coworkers and surely they'd help her. She'd made it to the bullpen and was mustering the courage to ask him for help when the MCRT was called out on a case. By cruel coincidence, it was a kidnapping that turned bad and Gibbs' team discovered the body of the young boy several days later.

When Amanda's kidnapper contacted her again, Michelle was ready to pay anything. She felt she'd had no choice; she couldn't risk Amanda's life. Somehow she'd get together whatever ransom he demanded. But she wasn't prepared when he told her the payment would be information, not money.

Michelle wavered for the next few days between doing as he asked and going to her superiors. Once she even made it as far as Director Shepard's door planning to tell her everything, but the director had been absent. In the end, the pictures of a terrified Amanda and the little boy's broken body won out and she'd done as he'd asked. She'd rationalized the action by saying the file he requested was really useless on its own and no one would be put in jeopardy, but her conscience still condemned her.

The drop off point for the flash drive was a newspaper box outside of Michelle's favorite coffee shop. She left it as he requested and rushed to the park where she was told she would find Amanda. Michelle circled the park for hours before dropping to a bench in tears, convinced her daughter was dead. For the next few days she was filled with sick anticipation waiting for the authorities to find Amanda's body.

A message she received a week later both relieved Michelle and filled her with new despair. Amanda was alive, but she was still captive and would remain that way. Michelle had proved her worth to her controller. She'd proven she could get the information he wanted without being caught. He said she was perfect; the timid, by-the-books lawyer would be above suspicion. So the cycle began. He would make his demands, she would give him the information, and he would ask for more, all the time prodding her along with threats to Amanda's well being.

What was Amanda doing tonight? Was there someone there to make sure she cleaned her teeth? She always grumbled about doing that. Michelle was pretty sure no one would brush her hair and tell her stories. Did she have the teddy bear that she'd slept with since Michelle's parents had died? It had been in her bag when she disappeared, maybe she was hugging her bear hoping he'd keep the nightmares at bay.

As the elevator doors closed, she wiped moisture from corner of eye and pressed the button to descend to the ground level. Michelle had to think about which button to push, she was still used to ending her day with a stop at autopsy to see Jimmy. She missed him. They'd dated for two years and she'd genuinely cared for him and he for her. But, like everything else in her life, the relationship had been tainted by the work that she had to do to keep Amanda safe. Their Friday meetings had been a convenient cover for her to collect the information she needed. Michelle was heartbroken, but she understood his reasons for ending their relationship. In her more selfless moments, she could even believe that it was better for him to be away from her and from the disaster her life had become.

Michelle's backpack slipped off of her shoulder. As she readjusted it, she bumped the weapon at her waist. Contrary to Gibbs' belief, she was a good shot, but the distaste she had for using that particular weapon kept her proficiency scores low. She shuddered as she remembered.

It had started about three months ago; Michelle's security clearance was no longer sufficient to give her access to the information that her controller wanted. He was silent for a few weeks before giving her a new directive. She was to become his front in the development of a new asset, Steven Vargo. Michelle was thankful to find that no new innocent would be put in danger; the pressure she would use to control him would be his mounting gambling debt.

She spent several weeks in communication with him before his patriotism began to win out over his self-interest. Her controller had demanded that she get rid of Vargo before he could give them up. When Michelle refused, he told her that she had to choose between keeping either Vargo or Amanda alive. She loathed carrying the gun at her side, but she almost embraced her revulsion considering it a sort of penance for her actions.

The doors opened and Michelle walked through the lobby to the exit. She stopped at the door and stared out into the night. She knew that nothing she could do would redeem her. She felt no satisfaction about being assigned to the MCRT or of having her talents recognized, though she hoped to do well there. All she felt most days was hopelessness; she'd gone too far and no one could help her or Amanda now. Michelle was a lawyer, she knew exactly what charges would be brought against her and she had a good idea of what her chances would be on the stand. Not that it mattered. If it went that far, Amanda would be dead and she would find some way to join her. Michelle was just going through the motions. Each assignment she completed gave Amanda one more day and one more chance, but a chance for what? What did either of them have to live for?

While she was standing at the door looking out into the night, Daniel Keating caught up to her.

"Are you okay, Michelle?" He looked concerned. Schooling her features to hide her thoughts, she plastered on the smile that had become her mask in the past year.

"Just tired. I'm thinking about all of the things I've left undone at home and realizing that there's no way I'm going to get to them tonight."

"Oh, don't remind me." He opened the door for her and they began walking toward their cars. "I promised myself that I would stay up long enough to clean out my refrigerator tonight. Some of the stuff in there is so old I swear it's going to grow legs and ambush me when I walk in the door."

Michelle laughed. "I have some advice for you: don't even look, just throw it all in the garbage bag and use bleach. Lots and lots of bleach."

"Sounds like a good—Look, a shooting star!" He pointed upward.

"Beautiful." It was curious to her that even though she felt so desolate, the sight could still move her.

"Did you make a wish? I know mine would be for Gibbs to start acting like a… not so much like…" Daniel couldn't figure out how to express it without calling their boss something rather uncomplimentary.

"…Would start treating us like humans." She smiled. He was so like McGee as she'd remembered him from the time he worked at Norfolk. Gibbs would accept Daniel eventually; if for no other reason than he had skills that Gibbs didn't possess but needed on the team. She and Langer would never be able to replace Tony and Ziva, but maybe earnest, naïve Daniel would be able to slip onto Gibbs' good side—if he ever learned to drive. "It's a good wish."

"Agent Silva tells me he's not mad at us but at Director Vance for breaking up his old team, but man, I sure wish he'd stop looking at me like I was some new species of cockroach."

"I know what you mean." They reached his car. "Goodnight, Daniel."

"See you tomorrow."

Michelle continued on toward her car and stopped when she heard the familiar tone that signaled a new text. When she opened the message, she saw he had a new assignment for her and a wave of nausea swept over her as she felt the same impotence, anger, and guilt that filled her each time she was forced to make the choice between serving her country and saving her little girl. She looked up into the night sky for another shooting star. Maybe if she were the only one who saw it tonight, there'd be enough magic for her wish to actually come true. Twisting her mouth in self-mockery, she made the wish anyway. "Please, make it like it never happened."

Note: Though this story is from Michelle's perspective, I want to state that I do not condone her actions. She was directly responsible for the deaths of two men and endangered the lives of countless others by stealing classified information for Ted Bankston.