Author's note: This is written partly in response to a comment by my partner- that I never write anything that doesn't contain McAbby romance. It annoyed me that he was right, lol.
And it was written partly to try and get over my rather annoying case of writer's block when it comes to my three active WIPs.
This is set between the explosion that killed Cassidy and Tony arriving at Jeanne's door in 'Grace Period'. Enjoy. F.
Disclaimer: I don't own characters, etc etc.
The rest of that day was a blur.
After getting the clerics safely away, the team was left to process the crime scene, same as they had after Pacci's death; same as they had after Kate's. And as hard as Tony tried to focus on this case and ignore the fact that they'd lost another agent, his actions were automatic; his mind was elsewhere. Cassidy had been many things to him; former lover, sometime adversary, colleague. But ultimately she had been a friend. He understood now what McGee had been going through, what he'd overlooked and largely ignored. He'd never met Jim Nelson, although he knew that he was one of McGee's friends. Dimly he recognised that McGee had lost two friends this weekend.
After the scene came the inevitable, endless questions. The debriefing. The hesitant, concerned questioning by Abby. The silent, understanding questions of Ducky. He knew they were necessary, not just for him, but so his friends and his employers knew that he would be ok. Not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but he would be. And so he answered the questions while the whole time his mind screamed in rage and grief for his lost friend. Same as he had for Pacci; same as he had for Kate.
And now the Director had let them go, let them find solace however they pleased. He suspected McGee was probably with Abby; he gravitated to her when he most needed comfort. Gibbs would be in his basement, drinking bourbon and working on that damned boat. Ziva... Ziva he wasn't sure about.
He kept flashing back to the conversation he'd had with Paula while they were searching for the hidden door. Like any team leader, Cassidy had been a strong, confident person. He'd never seen her so vulnerable before, not after Gitmo, not even after Boone's copycat had tried to kill her. It was if losing her team had stripped away the protective layers she surrounded herself in. She'd told him that life was too short not to tell someone you loved them if you did. It was a time worn line, a cliché; but it was true. In that split second he'd wondered if she regretted not telling someone that she cared.
He was driving aimlessly, paying little attention to his surroundings. Gibbs' words came to mind. "It could have been us every single damn day of the week; sometimes it has been." Suddenly coming to a decision, he pulled his car into an abrupt U-turn. He needed to see Jeanne.
