Title: Bourbon and Blame

Setting: Following JAG episode 8.21, "Meltdown."

Disclaimer: I do not own JAG, NCIS, or any of the characters therein.


Fornell found Gibbs exactly where he thought he would: in the basement. But he wasn't working on the boat as Fornell came down the stairs. Instead, he was nursing a glass of bourbon.

"Got another one of those, Gibbs?" Fornell asked tiredly. Wordlessly, Gibbs grabbed an empty jar from the work bench and poured some for Fornell, who snagged a stool and sat down next to him with a groan. After a moment of silence, Fornell spoke again. "She was good, Jethro. She could have been great. You know I meant everything I said when I wrote that letter of recommendation for her."

"I know that, Tobias," Gibbs replied. The frustration in his voice was palpable. Fornell's practiced ear also picked up many other shades in his tone.

"It wasn't your fault, Gibbs. None of this was." Fornell took a sip of his drink and sighed. "It was just such a waste, you know?"

They sat together in silence. Outside, the rain picked up, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Fornell thought back to the Vivian Blackadder he knew: the bright, gregarious redheaded agent, determined to prove her worth and almost desperate for the approval of her peers and superiors.

But then her brother died in the attack on the Cole, and the best part of her died with him. Fornell had done his best to help her, but she had refused any overture he made. It was soon after that the transfer request appeared on his desk.

Fornell had hoped, more than he actually believed, that Blackadder had simply wanted to find some way to be closer to her Navy brother by joining NCIS. In hindsight, it was disgustingly obvious that he had been deluding himself on that count. Sitting next to Gibbs in his basement, it was easy to see that she had only been looking for a way to get revenge for her brother's death, and that NCIS was, in her eyes, the best means. Fornell sighed and polished off his glass, setting it on the work bench.

As Fornell stood to leave, Gibbs remarked suddenly, "It wasn't your fault, either, Tobias."

"I know that just as well as you do, Jethro," Fornell sighed. "Doesn't make it any easier."

"Nope," Gibbs agreed, downing the contents of his glass in one gulp.

There was nothing more to be said. Fornell slowly tromped back up the stairs, leaving Gibbs alone with his thoughts and the sound of rain.