Alrighty, let's start with the disclaimer, shall we? I do not own any of this stuff. Smallvile and all characters associated with said show are property of… uh… who ever created the show. And the same goes for NCIS. I own nothing. I just like twisting things around in my screwed up little head and then writing about them lol

As for timelines… I'm thinking that for Smallville… something beyond Season 7 would be good. So this would make it sort of a very near future… ish… tale in that universe. Of sorts. As for NCIS… Season 3. Yeah. I like season 3. It was a good season. Cool! Let's run with that. :-D

Hope you enjoy this little concoction of my twisted little mind. As always, I love getting reviews. Good or bad, I don't mind. I want to hear your opinions. :-)

Now let's begin….

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"This is outrageous!" Grant Gabriel exploded. The young editor in chief of the Daily Planet looked absolutely livid. "You can't just waltz in here and…"

"Actually," came the calm voice of the red haired woman sitting across his desk from him, "You will find that I can do just that." The woman's piercing gaze was in very sharp contrast to her calm pretty face. It was the kind of gaze that could bring grown men to their knees.

"I don't know what your connection with Madeline Khan is, lady! But she isn't the editor in chief anymore! I am!"

"Yet, she holds more influence when it comes to the actual owners of this newspaper." Again, that calm tone… and that nearly sultry voice. "I do believe that their word is still law when it comes to the running of this place?" She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at the young man, who swallowed hard and moistened his lips. Grant's demeanor seemed to falter a bit under the woman's scrutiny.

"As editor in chief, it is my obligation to…"

"To do exactly as your superiors tell you to do, yes, I understand that." The woman cut Grant off. "And as the letter before you states," she indicated the open letter lying on Grant's desk with a flick of her gaze toward it before returning her steely gaze to the young editor, "it is quite clear what they want you to do."

"There must be thousands of reporters all over the continental United States who would jump at the chance to…" Grant tried in vain.

"There are." The woman cut him off again in that same calm authoritative tone. "Yet here I am."

"Yeah… why is that, exactly?" Grant decided it was time to do a little digging of his own. The woman's lips curled into a tiny smirk.

"I'm very particular about what I want, Mr. Gabriel. I only want the best."

"And you think she's the best?" Grant grinned, trying not to chuckle.

"I know she is." The woman replied calmly. Grant chuckled and shook his head in amusement.

"Fine. Whatever." He all but laughed. This chick was insane if she thought she'd be getting a prized pony out of this deal. A nag, yeah, that would be more like it. He punched the speaker key on his phone and dialed an extension. "It's your funeral, lady."

"Writer's pit, Sullivan." Came a young woman's voice over the line.

"My office, Sullivan! Now!" Grant barked authoritatively and then jabbed his finger on to the speaker key again, terminating the connection before the young woman could respond. The woman seated across his desk from him arched her eyebrow at this. "She'll be here in… oh…" He checked his watch, looking a little thoughtful. "I'd give her about 90 seconds." He put his hands in his pockets and grinned lopsidedly at the woman.

Down in the basement, Chloe Sullivan winced at the harsh bark from her editor over the line. Before she could even draw breath to respond, the line went dead. Shit!! He was majorly pissed about something! Hanging up the phone as fast as she could, she saved her work on her computer and scrambled for the elevator as fast as her high heels and skirt would allow her. Maybe it was about her article on the upcoming state election on bill 1441; the improvement of public transportation within the state. He hated reading articles on politics. No… if he wanted to yell at her for a story, he usually did it down here in front of everybody else.

"Whoa! Where's the fire, cuz?" Lois Lane, Chloe's cousin, joked as Chloe tore past her, nearly sending the tall girl falling flat on her ass in the process.

"Can't talk gotta run sorry Lois!" Chloe's words came out so fast, that it took Lois a few seconds to decipher them into something intelligible. By that time, the doors of the elevator were closing, Chloe all but bouncing on her feet as she stared up at the indicator lights above the door.

It felt like the elevator ride was taking forever! Chloe could swear the elevator went up one floor, then down two floors! "Come on come on come on come on!" Chloe quietly urged, bouncing up and down in place as she watched the indicator lights. Finally, with a ding, the elevator reached the office floor and as soon as the doors opened enough for Chloe to squeeze herself through the opening, she was off and running down the hall. She skidded to a halt outside the office and took a moment to regain her composure. She straightened out her skirt and her blouse, running a nervous hand over her blond hair to smooth it out.

"Uh, Chloe…?" Mr. Gabriel's secretary got the young blonde's attention. She indicated the back of her head and winced. Chloe quickly ran her hand over the back of her head and found a lock of her hair standing straight out because some of it had gotten lodged in the back of the neckline of her blouse. She quickly corrected the problem, looking up at the secretary with hopeful anticipation. The lady smiled back at her, nodding in approval.

"Thanks." Chloe whispered to her with a smile and knocked on the door.

"Come!" Grant barked from the other side of the door, making Chloe wince. She hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"You wanted to see me?" Chloe smiled. Grant just glared back at her, making her smile falter. Uh-oh. Not good. "If this is about my 1441 story, I'm sure I can…"

"It's not about the story." Grant cut her off briskly. Chloe stopped talking instantly. Okay… phew! "I want you to clear out your desk, Sullivan." Grant said sternly. It was the last thing, Chloe had expected to hear!

"W- what…?" She stammered, staring at Grant like he'd grown a second head right in front of her. "I- ca- uh… can I ask why?"

"You're not going to be around to use it, and I've got someone lined up who needs it." Chloe's jaw sagged in shock as she stared at the man before her. She could not believe what she was hearing!

"A- are you… Are you firing me…?" Chloe asked in stunned disbelief. This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening! She'd wanted nothing more than to work at the Daily Planet, since she'd learned to write her own name! Grant gave a weird kind of shrug, accompanied by a momentary non-caring curl of his lips.

"Let's just say you've been re-assigned." He said casually. Chloe blinked a few times, staring at him in shock.

"Re-assigned…?" She echoed in confusion. "Where? To do what?"

"That would be where I come in." Came a female voice from behind Chloe. Upon turning around, Chloe saw a red haired woman in her 40's getting up from one of the comfy chairs Grant had in his office. The woman was about Chloe's height, thin, and very elegant. Her skirt suit fit her body to a tee her body language left no doubt in Chloe's mind that here stood a woman of power. "Mr. Gabriel. Would you give us a moment." The woman had addressed the editor in chief without looking at him. And what's more, the question hadn't even been a question at all. It had been an instruction. A courteously phrased one, but an instruction none the less.

"Sure." Grant drawled as he rolled his eyes and headed for the door, his hands in his pockets. He was definitely not pleased. "Maybe I can get you some coffee while I'm out there." He grumbled, slamming the door behind himself as he left. Chloe stared at the door, through which her boss had just exited. What the hell was going on?! The woman walked over to her and her smile was amused as she studied Chloe's face. "It has come to my attention that you are a very gifted journalist, Ms. Sullivan. Your reputation precedes you."

"Uh… Thank you…" Chloe stammered in confusion. She had no idea who this woman was, or what she could want with her.

"What Mr. Gabriel meant when he said you've been re-assigned, is that I'm here, acting on a little piece of advice, slipped to me by my good friend Madeline Khan."

"You know Madeline?" Chloe blurted out before she could stop herself, and successfully interrupting the woman. "I- I mean, Ms. Khan…?" She quickly amended herself. The woman smiled, her eyes twinkling.

"Yes, Madeline and I go quite a ways back. And when I came to her with my little dilemma, she immediately mentioned you as someone who might be able to help me."

"She mentioned… me…" Chloe echoed, feeling both skeptical and surprised.

"In fact, Maddie told me if there was someone I could trust to give me the details on the truth, no matter how ridiculous they sounded, it would be you." The woman smirked. "She thinks very highly of you Ms. Sullivan." Chloe felt extremely flattered by this little piece of news. "How did she put it…?" The woman looked thoughtful for a moment before seemingly remembering something. "She's one touch little cookie." She finished, smirking at the young blond. "Even if she is a bit on the chocolate chip side." Chloe felt her cheeks getting a little warm and she tried her best to smother the goofy grin that was threatening to eat her whole face. Madeline Khan, the toughest editor in the entire city, had said this about her?! Oh my god!! Talk about a compliment!

"Okay… What do you need?" Chloe wasn't sure what to expect from this woman, but any friend of Madeline's… after all, Madeline Khan had been the one to give Chloe her first big break in the journalism world, and giving her an internship at the planet, starting at the bottom level with the chance to work her way up from there. The woman smiled, seemingly amused at some private joke.

"You misunderstand me, Ms. Sullivan. I don't need you to do some small thing for me as a favor. I'm here to give you a job." The woman's phrasing of this last sentence was not lost on Chloe. She'd used the word 'give'… not 'offer'.

"Well… thank you, but… I already have a job." Chloe was trying to be as polite as she could. This whole situation was confusing enough. The woman nodded slowly.

"And now, you have a better one." She said with a small smirk. Chloe blinked. Who was this person?! "Tell you what. Why don't you take the day to think things through, and then call me tonight." The woman moved over to the chair she had occupied when Chloe had entered the room and picked up a folder. "This has all the information on the job I'm giving you. Read through it and mull it over." She handed the folder to Chloe, who took it hesitantly. "My card's in the jacket." The woman said with a smile as she picked up her purse. "I'll be expecting your call tonight, Ms. Sullivan." And with that, she headed for the door. Chloe stared at the folder in her hands.

"Who are you?" Chloe's question made the woman stop at the door and look over her shoulder at the young woman.

"All the answers are in that folder. Read it through carefully." As the woman spoke, Chloe flipped open the jacket, and the first phrase on the very first page stunned her.

"Civilian field media attaché?!" Chloe exclaimed out loud, the words coming out in a bit of a shocked chuckle. She was completely floored by what she was seeing. She looked up to see the woman watching her with an amused grin on her lips. "What is this, the army?!" Chloe's head was spinning so fast. What the hell was going on?!

"The army… No. Not quite." The woman smiled mischievously and turned, exiting through the door, and leaving Chloe alone in the office. Chloe blinked a few times, staring at the now closed door. What had just happened?! That woman… oh shoot! She'd forgotten to get her name! Oh, really nice move, Sullivan! She had just offered her a job! No, wait… she said 'give'! She'd 'given' her a job! But she already had one! Didn't she…? Her editor had just told her to clear out her desk because she wouldn't be using it anymore. So, no… she didn't already have a job. Chloe let herself slump down, reclining against the edge of Grant's desk, staring at the folder in her hands. What had just happened?! She opened the jacket again, staring down at the first page. Civilian field media attaché. There was the job title, in bold black official looking letters. It sounded like something thought up by the government. Wouldn't it be just perfect if she got pulled into some governmental agency after everything she'd claimed over the years about conspiracies and the like? That would be Murphy's Law in the worst possible way. Her green eyes travelled lower on the page, scanning the content without taking in a word of it. This was a joke. It had to be. Anytime now, Ashton Kutcher would come jumping into the room, giggling like an insane monkey that she'd just been punked. She was just about to close the folder, thinking she might as well read it later, when her eyes caught something in the upper right corner of the first page. Taking a closer look, she noticed an insignia. It looked like a four letter abbreviation.

"NCIS…?" She whispered, frowning. "What the hell is NCIS?" She wracked her brain trying to imagine what it could stand for… National Crockpot Inspection Society? Wait, what? Why would they need a journalist? Nah! It couldn't be that. Nordic Circle Information Service? Whoa! They were sending her to the Arctic?! No way! It couldn't be that. Uhm… National…. Uh, National….? Ugh! She couldn't think! She huffed in frustration, glaring at the abbreviation. "If all else fails… Google it." She mused to herself.

It didn't take long for Chloe to find the abbreviation's meaning. She sat at Grant's desk, staring at the screen in front of her, her head in her hands.

"I can't believe this…" She whispered to herself. Staring back at her from the screen, on the Naval Criminal Investigative Service webpage, was a picture of the same red haired woman she'd just talked to a few minutes earlier, captioned: Jenny Shepard Director, Naval Criminal Investigative Service. "The navy…? What could they possibly want with me?"