Title: Baja Hiatus
Author: txnicstn
Email:
Rating: G/PG [some language, violence, etc.]
Classification:
Spoilers: Hiatus specifically, but anything from Seasons 1-3 just to be safe
Summary and Author Notes: A vignette regarding Gibbs leaving NCIS and how this might be resolved. For the purposes of this story, Gibbs is in Baja. Call it writer's license. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of NCIS fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Somewhere in Mexico…
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was lying in the rope hammock, lazily swinging back and forth in the tropical breeze. He did this while nursing his Jack Daniels filled coffee cup. It wasn't even close to ten in the morning, but Gibbs was already on his third cup of Jack.
But he didn't have to worry about alcohol numbing his brain. He wasn't going to work anytime soon.
That thought made him smile. No bizarre cases to solve, he didn't have to worry about running into Jen. No more dealing with DiNozzo or trying to figure out what Ziva David was going to do next.
Yeah, no more of that.
But then he wouldn't see Abby or Ducky anymore. No more arcane stories from Dr. Mallard's past. He wouldn't see Abby's perky smile anymore either, or hear her farting Hippo, whatever its name was.
He wondered if Tim McGee was going to make it.
Sure he would, he told himself. He has Tony there to guide him. Tony may be smug and a little self-serving, but he'll a great teacher for the Probie. And just maybe Tony will 'grow up'.
Nah, he snorted as he turned on his side. But he'll do just fine….
Then Jenny Shepard's anguished face swam into his vision again. She couldn't believe he was doing this. Not Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS Senior lead agent. Gibbs would never quit.
But that jerk in the CNO's office made it clear what he thought of Gibbs' opinion. A Marine and Navy boarding party along with the entire crew of that pre-positioning ship paid the price.
So to hell with them. To hell with them all.
"How are you doing this morning Gibbs?" Mike Franks, former NIS Agent and Gibbs mentor settled down on a stump beside the hammock.
"Can't complain," Gibbs lied as he turned toward his mentor and friend, "Where's Camila this morning?"
Mike gave the silver haired man a sleep tinged smile. "She went down to the market an hour ago. Didn't you see her waving goodbye as she left?"
"I must've missed her," he said by way of an excuse, "I really get into laying out in this thing in the morning."
Mike gave him knowing look. "Yeah, sure."
Gibbs was aggravated that his former boss saw through his ruse, but didn't pursue it. Instead, he opted to change the subject.
"When do you want to head down to the bait shop?"
Mike Franks stood up, looking down the beach toward the harbor inlet and the bait shop/bar. "Let's wait until Camila gets back."
"You're the boss, boss." Gibbs said with a tipsy smile, raising the cup to the man.
Mike turned and walked back over to the hammock, "Not anymore I'm not, Probie."
Both men laughed at their private joke.
"I'll come get you when Camila gets back," said Franks as he headed over to the old Chevrolet Impala to see if he could figure out why it wasn't starting.
Walking down to the bait shop was getting to be a pain. And Franks figured that old pickup of his sure wasn't going anywhere anymore.
Gibbs returned to his drink, listening to the waves crash against the sun drenched shoreline.
"How much further Ducky?"
Gibbs could 'see' Dr. Donald Mallard, M.E. up ahead of him on the rocky trail.
"It can't be much further, Jethro. You know, this reminds me of the time I was on a forensic expedition in Borneo…."
"Duck, please, not now…." he heard himself groaning. The backpack he was carrying felt like it weighed 100 tons. He couldn't get the sweat to stop running into his eyes.
"Not now what, Jethro?"
Ducky's voice sounded different. Closer.
"Ducky?"
"I'm right here Jethro; open your eyes."
Gibbs was confused. Part of his mind was still on that rocky mountainous trail. But Ducky was way ahead of him. So how could Ducky sound like he was right next to him?
"Jethro, open your eyes…."
Gibbs felt his shoulder being jostled. He forced his eyes open and saw the fuzzy image of a man sitting on the stump next to his shaded hammock.
"Is Camila back?" Gibbs said. His voice was still thick with sleep. He thought he was talking to Mike.
"Camila? Oh, you mean the young woman staying here with you and former Agent Franks…." That was definitely not Mike. Mike didn't have a British accent.
Gibbs forced his eyes all the way open and was rewarded with a stabbing pain coursing through his skull, but now he could see that Donald Mallard was sitting next to him. The NCIS medical examiner was dressed in worn khakis, a faded blue and gold Hawaiian shirt, and well-worn white sneakers.
"Ducky? What the hell are you doing here?" Gibbs growled as he tried to straighten himself in his hammock.
'Ducky' Mallard smiled at his friend. "Easy Jethro, you don't want to fall out that hammock, you've obviously had a lot to drink this morning…."
"What time is it?" Gibbs asked. He tried to look at his watch but couldn't make out the blurred numbers.
"It's a little after one in the afternoon," Ducky reported. "Judging from the fact that you can't see your watch, I'm guessing you are suffering from a hangover."
Gibbs wasn't in the mood for the M.E.'s, clinical analysis. "Ducky what are you doing here?"
"'Here' as in 'what am I doing here at your humble abode' instead of slaving away at the NCIS morgue?"
"Well, yeah, Duck," Gibbs said, trying to will his headache to go away by pressing on his temples. "Something like that…."
"I decided I needed a change of scenery," Ducky said as if his appearance here was common knowledge.
"Change of scenery? You haven't left your mother alone in six years…." Gibbs said yawning.
"I haven't Jethro; I brought her along."
Gibbs stopped in mid-yawn, as his eyes grew wider. Maybe this was some kind of weird alcohol induced dream. "You did what? You brought her along?" he repeated.
"Why yes Jethro, you didn't expect me to leave her in Washington, now did you?"
He could just imagine what Mrs. Mallard was saying right about now. "Where is she Duck?"
"Oh don't worry Jethro, she's in good hands…."
Gibbs was about to ask him 'What do you mean' when another familiar voice pierced the shore noise.
"Did you find him Ducky?"
"Yes Tony," called out Ducky over the crashing surf, "He's over here in the hammock…."
Gibbs watched as Tony DiNozzo's athletic form walked toward them. Gibbs fought hard not to do a double take as he propelled himself from his hammock.
"DiNozzo? What are you doing here?"
Tony was all smiles as usual. "Hey Boss, good to see you!"
"Don't 'hey Boss' me, DiNozzo! I asked you a question! What…are…you…doing…here?"
He expected Tony to flinch, but this time Special Agent DiNozzo didn't. "Took some time off, Boss," Tony said with his ever present smirk visible. "You know, copping some z's catching some rays…taking it easy for a while."
"Taking it easy?" Gibbs got up right in Tony's face.
"You are the Senior Agent in Charge, DiNozzo! You do not 'take it easy'!"
"Chill, Boss," Tony said, unflustered by Gibbs obvious anger, "Everything's being taken care of…."
"By who?" Gibbs snarled.
It was obvious Tony was becoming unnerved by Gibbs harsh tone. Old habits die hard.
"Easy, Gibbs, don't blow a circuit…."
"Abby?"
"Hiya, Gibbs," said the plucky, Goth, NCIS forensic technician as she made her way to Gibbs' hammock. She looked around at the old rusting vehicles, the venerable mobile home that served as a beach house and the gorgeous view that this location afforded.
"Man, this is such a cool place!"
As Abby ran over to inspect the derelict vehicles, Tony ambled towards the hammock.
Gibbs turned to face Dr. Mallard who was busy staring out at the ocean. "Ducky?"
The NCIS M.E. kept his back to Jethro Gibbs, not even bothering to turn around. "Relax, Jethro, Mr. Palmer is taking care of everything…."
"By himself?" The former Gunnery Sergeant couldn't believe his ears…much less his eyes.
"Yes, Gibbs, don't have a cat," The Mossad liaison said, as she carefully lead an older woman toward the trailer.
"Gracious, is this where Leroy is living now? Ms. Mallard said, obviously befuddled from her long trip. What happened to his boat?"
'Cow', Ziva, that's 'don't have a cow'" Tony said, as he lowered himself into the hammock and closed his eyes.
"Ah, you Americans and your idioms," she grumbled. She turned to Ducky's mother and gently helped her inside the mobile home. "Come on Mrs. Mallard, let's get you inside."
"Thank you dear, you're just as nice as that young woman Kate…. By the way, where is she? Do you smell pigs roasting dear? It smells like a luau…."
The silver haired former NCIS Agent whirled on his lead senior agent and successor. The idea of tossing Tony bodily out of the hammock crossed his mind. However he decided a 'drill sergeant' imitation might yield better results.
DINOZZO! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Bellowed Gibbs to the sacked out former Baltimore Police Department detective.
Tony DiNozzo had his eyes closed and looked like he was drifting off to sleep. Then his cell phone began chirping. Tony fished it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the digital screen to see who was calling.
He tossed the phone to Gibbs, "It's for you, Boss."
The former NCIS Agent considered again for half a moment upending the hammock and dumping Tony out on his head. But that wouldn't solve anything. He flipped open the phone.
"Gibbs," he snapped.
"Enjoying the beach, Jethro?"
The silver haired former Gunny thought of million snide and snotty things he could say, but instead opted for politeness.
"Good afternoon, Madam Director," he said casually.
If she was thrown by this, she didn't let him know it. "Is Ducky nearby, Jethro? I need to speak with him…."
Gibbs turned and tossed the phone to Ducky. "Director Shephard would like to speak with you."
The NCIS M.E. caught the phone and began speaking. "Ah, Good afternoon, Director Shepard, greetings from Baja…oh yes, we found him snoozing away in a hammock…no he wasn't too drunk…yes, we're all here safe and sound. Yes, I'll give it back to him."
Donald Mallard was also smiling. "She'd like to speak with you again, Jethro."
Gibbs took the phone. Gibbs was so polite butter could have melted in his mouth. "What can I do for you, Madam Director?"
"It's simple really, Jethro. Dr. Mallard and Abby are on leave. Tony and Agent David are providing protective custody.
"From what?" the silver haired former agent wanted to know.
"Ducky witnessed a murder. Pretty messy actually. The guy was a former Marine and swore he'd kill him. I had to put him somewhere as far away from DC as possible."
"So why is Abby here?" The irritation was returning to Gibbs' voice.
"She insisted on going along. I really couldn't stop her…I thought you'd like to help out one more time…for old times' sake."
Gibbs could tell Jenny Shephard was really enjoying this. Well he wasn't going to let her get to him.
Gibbs returned to being polite and tactful. "Madam Director, I've turned in my resignation. I'm retired."
He could hear the smile in her voice as she tried to sound distressed. "I know Mr. Gibbs, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but the threat to Dr. Mallard is real and I needed somewhere to hide him."
And his whole entourage?" Gibbs added snidely.
"Yes Jethro, I'm really sorry about this…."
"Jen this is me you're talking to. You're not sorry one bit."
Her tone became hard. "You're right, Mr. Gibbs, I'm not. I needed somewhere to stash Ducky and former Agent Mike Franks said this would be the perfect place to hide him until we made sure it was safe for Dr Mallard to come back."
Gibbs was about lay into Jen.
"Gibbs?"
It was Mike Franks looking somewhat aggravated as he walked towards the former NCIS Agent.
Gibbs cupped his hand over the phone. "Mike, I'm real sorry about this…."
"Sorry about what Gibbs?"
"All these people here…having to watch Ducky."
"All these people? Where's Ducky?"
"He's right over there…."
"Gibbs? Open your eyes…."
Darkness descended around Gibbs. Then he slowly opened his eyes. The bright afternoon sun made him instinctively shield them. He looked up from his hammock to see Mike Franks staring down at him.
"Where's Dr. Mallard?" Mike asked.
"It was a dream." Gibbs mumbled.
"A dream? What kind of dream?"
Gibbs gave his mentor a weary smile. "A weird one." He quickly shifted mental gears. "Say, do you still want to go to the bait shop?"
The former NIS Agent knew better than to probe. "Sure. I've given up on that old truck. Let's take the Impala down there."
Gibbs started to say something when he felt his cell phone vibrate. It hadn't done that in months.
"Just a minute Mike." Gibbs fished his phone out of his pocket.
Gibbs looked at the text display. He was getting better and sending and receiving text messages. He just hoped this wasn't Tony or Jen trying to convince him to come back. He squinted at the liquid crystal display. The words he saw chilled him.
SMTHGS COME UP – CALL ME -DUCKY
Mike understood the look on Gibbs' face. There was trouble back home.
"I can get you to the border crossing in an hour. You can hail a cab from there to the regional airport." Mike said quietly.
"Thanks Boss." As Gibbs got out of the hammock and headed for the mobile home, he mentally began an inventory of the things he'd need for a trip to DC.
- Fini