Tour de Vance
by channeld
written for: the NFA A Year in the Life challenge.
rating: K plus
characters: Vance and everyone else, most likely
genre: drama, some humor
note: This multi-chaptered story examines Leon Vance's year 2010. It is not meant to follow what happened on the show.
disclaimer: I still own nothing of NCIS.
author's note: Meet Leslie Baker
Leslie Baker is an OC I created awhile back to be secretary to Vance. I have used him in very minor roles in a couple of stories ever since Vance appeared on NCIS. Leslie will have a larger role here. (I know that we once saw a female secretary, Pamela Cook, for Vance in the season 7 episode Borderland. I am pretending that she was filling in for Leslie while he was on vacation.)
Yes, Leslie is a 'he'. 'Leslie' is an uncommon name for a man in the US, but as they say, people with uncommon names usually channel the energy it takes to face the ridicule they might get, and often go on to do great things. Several US presidents had unusual first names (Lyndon, Ulysses, Grover, Dwight...)
I don't often describe my OCs, but Leslie stands out so clearly in my mind that I want to share him. He is about 29 or 30; 5 foot 10 inches; thin to the point of being skinny, with slightly shaggy blond hair that hangs down close to his eyes. This gives him a sort of hooded cobra or vulture look. He's not seen to smile very much, and in fact often looks dyspeptic. His remarks are usually sardonic, or snarky, when he can get away with it. However, he is an excellent secretary, very loyal to Vance, and would never put his boss down. He knows how to behave when he must. Vance thinks he's a gem, and would be lost without him.
Chapter 1 - A New Year Begins
January 2, 2010
The heavy sweater Leon Vance wore over the shirt and tie did help keep the bitter cold at bay. It was a Christmas gift from his mother, this sweater; a somber dark blue shot through with dark gray. His mother knitted fine, tasteful sweaters, unlike those made by his mother-in-law who thought the entire world loved the same cutesy designs and frightening colors that she did. No, this blue sweater would be one that he wouldn't be afraid to be seen in, should a surprise visitor arrive in his office.
Not that a visitor was likely on this Saturday, the day after New Year's Day. The world would largely still be quiet and sleeping, enjoying the long weekend before the first serious, back-to-work day of 2010 on Monday, the fourth. The Director of NCIS, however, allowed himself only New Year's Eve and New Year's Day off. Now it was time to take stock as the holidays rolled to a close.
Vance hated the start of the year.
There was so much symbolism wrapped up in it: an enormous blank slate to write upon, although it was Fate and Life which would do the writing. He secretly dreaded not knowing what was to come. Would there be terrorist attacks this year? Budget cuts from Congress? Deaths of some of his personnel in the line of duty—there was nothing he feared more than that. It was something he had little control over, and he much preferred being in control. Where is the year going? If only I had some idea…
"Good morning, Director. Happy New Year!"
Started, Vance looked up. "Leslie! I didn't expect to see you here today."
His secretary stood in the doorway, wearing an unaccustomed suit coat in deference to the cold day. Leslie Baker shrugged. "I thought I would come in and get caught up on stuff. The day's likely to be quiet. Is there anything in particular you'd like from me?"
"Yes, now that you mention it. Could you plot out my schedule for me, for the foreseeable future?"
"Yes, sir. How far do you want it to go?"
"Whatever you've got for 2010. All of it. In detail."
If Leslie thought this was an odd request, he didn't show it. "I'll get right on it, and you'll have it within an hour."
"Good job. Thank you, Leslie."
Gah. A whole, new year. Well, 363 days to go…
Unable to concentrate, Vance was gazing out his window at the patchy snow-covered ground when his intercom buzzed. "Director, Agent Gibbs would like to see you."
Dang. Gibbs? What was he doing here today? Vance sighed. "Send him in, Leslie."
"Jethro. You run out of bourbon this soon?" Vance smiled. Gibbs looked sober as ever, and was dressed as he always was for a work day.
Gibbs pulled up one of the chairs close to Vance's desk. "Not much of a New Year's reveler, Leon. Anytime I've tried, I've regretted it."
"Jackie and I used to go out to parties; stay out late. Having kids changed that. Or at least gave us an excuse to cut out early. Now, what's on your mind?"
"You."
"Should I be flattered, or worried?"
"Depends."
"Gibbs, I swear I'm going to buy you a dictionary for your birthday, and I am going to make you start using more words."
Picking up the new snow globe on the desk to better examine it, Gibbs said, "I remember how you were at the beginning of last year. You had that deer-in-the-headlights look for nearly all of January. Thought you might still be settling in here, although at that point, you'd been in place for seven months…" He looked up at his boss. "You're looking inscrutable again, Leon."
"My kids call it my Daddy Blank look. I'm kind of proud of it." He was smiling again, but then gave Gibbs a pointed look.
Gibbs read it and shrugged. "Not saying your job is easy. Filled in for the Director a time or two, so have an idea."
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
"Good to hear." Gibbs put the snow globe back in its place on the desk. "If you need me for anything…"
Vance nodded. "Why did you come in today, Jethro? Your team's not on call. DiNozzo is in Squaw Valley. When's he due back?"
"Friday. Our team is on next weekend. I came in for probably the same reason that you did and Baker did. To catch up."
"On the second day of January. How could we already be behind?" Vance groaned.
"You're thinking about this all wrong. Today's just a day. So is May 19 and October 30. The work doesn't end when the year does. It just keeps rolling. Well, I'll leave you to it."
"Have a happy," Vance said to Gibbs' retreating back.
The office was quiet again. ZNN was on the plasma screen on the wall, but was on mute, as usual. This served to keep the real world somewhat at bay.
Gibbs had his own opinions, but Vance couldn't agree with him. There was symbolism in the baby new year; a diapered infant wearing a sash with the year's number. It was like the ride to the top of the mountain on a ski lift from the dark bottom of the old year. Down below, where the ride started, the Christmas lights were now being put away for another eleven months. From the top of the mountain it was dusk (in these short days of the year) but clear; the days of the coming year stretching off endlessly and increasingly faint. It was impossible to say how far Vance could see. A month? A week? It was all an illusion, and he blinked back to the present.
Yes, there was symbolism. The day of the 9/11 attacks was not chosen randomly; the attackers understood the symbolism of the 911 emergency system in the US. April 15 struck fear into the hearts of many as the day when income taxes were due. For government administrators, September 30 was a chiller: the end of the government fiscal year (and in many years the herald of a new fiscal year without a budget, causing agencies to operate under a "continuing resolution", with no new infusion of cash).
Last year at this time, he wondered how he would get through the year when he couldn't begin to fathom what it might bring. At the time, though, he'd felt that maybe 2010 would be easier.
Ha. Didn't happen. He was feeling the same dread that he'd felt at the start of 2009.
What if 2010 turns out badly—really badly?
He looked at the photos of boxing greats that adorned one wall. Heroes. People who didn't give up, even though they knew there was a possibility that they might go down with a crunch.
Fools. Optimistic fools.
Vance chased that thought from his mind. The fool was the one who hid from Life in a cave, away from everything that could hurt him, and as a result, never lived.
But still, there were safer lines of work than the one that Vance had chosen. Heads of universities, CEOs of part supply stores, didn't start each year worried about how many of their employees would die in the line of duty in that year.
"Director…?"
Vance pulled out of his thoughts. "Yes, Leslie?"
"I'm going to run up M Street for coffee. Can I get you anything?"
"I hope you're driving. It's too cold outside."
"Yes, sir, I am."
"Good. In that case, get me my usual. A double. Thank you. And bring us back a coffeecake or anything that looks good." He gave Leslie twenty dollars.
Leslie broke into a rare smile. "Will do, sir."
Alone again, Vance's thoughts went back to what Gibbs said. Gibbs appeared to sincerely believe that days on the calendar were all the same; why was he so sure of that? And why couldn't Vance believe that?
One thing was certain: At the end of the year, things got very fuzzy as people dived headlong into the holidays. Vance suspected that lots of little things fell through the cracks because of that. This year, he would see that that didn't happen again. This year—
A knock, and the door pushed open. Gibbs again. "Baker's not at his desk," he grunted. "Gone out for coffee?"
Vance eyed the man behind him. "What's up, Jethro?"
"Have you met Stan Burley? He says he's on TAD here. I hadn't heard about it, but I assume you…"
A momentary flash of panic, but more of annoyance. A TAD! It must have come in last month and gotten lost. But administrivia was something that didn't do more than annoy Vance. He rose and stepped forward, smiling. "I haven't met you, Stan, but I keep tabs on all of my Agents Afloat. You have a fine record, and we're happy to have you here. My secretary is out at the moment…how long is your TAD?"
Stan Burley shook the offered hand firmly. "Four months at the moment, Director. My dad is in poor health after a fall, and I requested this emergency TAD to help take care of him. He lives in Silver Spring. I appreciate your finding work for me here, but I can fill in anywhere in the area."
"Do you know Agent Gibbs?" Vance didn't miss Gibbs' smirk or Stan's slight eye roll. "You know Agent Gibbs," he restated.
"He trained me from a pup," Stan grinned. "I was one of the first people on his team. Had the pleasure of working with him for five years."
Vance took a quick accounting of the two men. They were comfortable in each other's presence, but not exactly buddy-buddy. Interesting… "Well, good," he said. "I don't have a firm slot in mind for you yet, but for the next week at least you can fill in on Gibbs' team for Agent DiNozzo, who is out West skiing. How does that sound, gentlemen?"
"Fine," Stan said with a slight shrug and a smile.
"Gibbs?"
"You're the boss, Leon," said Gibbs.
A safe answer. This situation would bear watching.
Leslie returned then and his eyes had only the briefest flicker of surprise on seeing the other two men. Not missing a beat, he set the coffee cake and coffee cup down on Vance's desk, and wordlessly got out four dessert plates and forks. Seeing the other three served, Leslie took his own plate to his desk to eat.
The three agents chatted for awhile until the coffee cake was gone. With a wish of a Happy New Year! to Vance, Stan left, followed by Gibbs, who did one of his eye-rolling smirks that sometimes exasperated Vance.
Not this time, though. Having an extra person at HQ was always a good thing.
Now, if only the rest of the year would go so smoothly…