Written for the het_bigbang on on Livejournal. Thanks to Karlamartinova for beta-reading.

"Have you ever wondered why we never dated back then?"

Newman lifted her eyes from her smartphone at the sudden question coming from Chris' mouth; she looked quizzically at him, letting her backpack fall to the concrete. "Seriously? Of the many important or serious things you could talk about, you want to ask me this?"

Chris shrugged. "Humour me?" Without giving her time to protest, he grabbed her backpack- probably a reminder from her time living at base with the Major and Gibbs, when she never got to pack heavy, he guessed – and practically launched it onto his pick-up. Georgina was a good friend, he had always liked her, and the least he could do for her was to give her a lift to the airport. They didn't enter the car, though. They simply leaned against the side of the vehicle, at each other's side, their elbows almost touching.

"Seriously, thought; we used to hit it off. And sometimes I did ask myself why we never did it." Especially right now, with her so close to him, Georgina Newman not a long, distant memory any longer but reality.

"I don't know…" She said, her eyes a bit lost, thinking about the past, answering him honestly. "Maybe it's because after Noah's death I've been in a bad, bad place for a very long time. Or maybe it was because back then I believed that a six years difference was way too much, or, maybe, simply, deep down we were scared of what could have happened if things wouldn't have worked out… we would have gotten joint investigations, and then we would have been all angry and dissatisfied and awkward so we preferred to stay friends for our jobs' sake."

"And yet, you went and moved to Los Angeles without even a goodbye kiss. That's no Bueno, Georgina, not at all." He chuckled, elbowing her in the side playfully. "I thought you knew I've never been one to turn down a party or a woman."

She shrugged. "Some opportunities were just too good to be passed. Brenda called and offered me a place in Major Crimes, the chance of moving up in the ranks, of making some difference…" She shook her head. "When I was a teen, people never expected me to get that far. But the Major and Gibbs straitened me up. If I had made it, it would have been my way of thanking them for believing in me."

"Still think that you passed on me, though." He chuckled, allowed her to rest a bit against his side. "And now, what happens?" He asked, suddenly serious.

She sighed, her eyes closed, the back of her head hitting the car. "If the DA finds out that I've been the one to tip the Injustice Project off, I can kiss my job goodbye. But when I heard of Kinkaid, I just couldn't let it go. I've always felt that Rowell just looked too good for it, but when the murders stopped, I honestly thought maybe we got the right guy, and now…"

Her phone beeped; grunting, she read the text, just to roll her eyes as she was putting away the device, back into the pocket of her jeans.

"Something interesting?" He already knew the answer, had been at the receiving end of those kind of texts as well back when he was with the NOLA PD; he wasn't pitying her, though. He was sorry for her- of course he was- but they both thought she had done the right thing.

"Haters texting and e-mailing me. The stuff literature is made of." She turned to face Chris. "I probably ruined everything I've been working for. But… at least now we know that Rowell wasn't guilty. He'll be released, his name will be cleared, and, maybe, I'll eventually feel better."

If I'll still, have a job, she thought to herself, grim. Rowell's case had taken a long time and a lot of work. She could already see the DA and her co-workers, hearing that the guy would be released even if he was perfect for the crimes- few of them had already sent her texts and e-mails to make sure she knew exactly what they thought of her.

But her real issues were going to be with the LAPD Assistant Chief. Carver had briefly been her boss back when she had started at Major Crimes in LA a few years back, at a time when Brenda had been suspended; they had always hated each other, mostly because Carver liked to antagonize Brenda and her team, just to take himself the credit when a case was closed. He also was prone to political and publicity stunts, and quick to close cases he didn't deem worthy of his time. The jokes about only white rich people being important when dead in LA? It wasn't a joke when it came to him.

She could already see how he would feel, knowing that a wrongfully convicted man would be released- and probably asking for a seven or eight figures compensation. A man she had helped putting behind bars. A man who was now being released because of her.

"I've been through worse. I can handle a few vipers. Probably also working traffic. Maybe. I think?" She chuckled, just half-joking. "Worst case scenario, I'll be begging Pride for a job. I used to waitress to make some extra-money back in the day. It wouldn't even be my first rodeo behind the counter."

"Not exactly the job I wanted to offer you." She lifted an eyebrow in direction of Pride, he and Brenda slowly walking towards them as they left the NCIS building; Pride was smug and satisfied- way too satisfied for his own good, and Brenda's expression was screaming guilt.

"I've handled Agent Percy over for an undercover job for a few months, and I need someone to cover for her while she is gone. Need someone to look after Christopher…"

She still looked at him quizzically- in a "I'm not buying it" kind of way. "And your brilliant idea was to get a LA detective to fill in?" She turned to look at Brenda, who was trying to make her best "puppy-eyes" expression. "And you are ok with that?"

"Lieutenant Detective, it wouldn't be a permanent arrangement; think of it of a student exchange. Your job will still be there when you'll get back to LA." Bad sign when Brenda called her with her official grade- she only did when she meant business, and when she did, there was no talking her out of it. "We both think that you may improve with a change of scenery, given the current situation at hand."

Georgina rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, focusing not on her boss but Pride, guessing he had more to do with her current predicament than her captain did. "And, just out of curiosity, when you talk about my so-called current situation, do you mean my impeding ban from the LAPD or my current feud with my family?"

Pride huffed, slightly annoyed; he didn't blame her- he knew that Georgina Newman had a tendency to act like the smartest person in the room and didn't take crap, didn't like having people ordering her around, but couldn't she, just for once, give up and admit defeat? He was trying to do her some good. He knew her- and even if she didn't want to admit it, she needed some relief. A breath of fresh air out of Los Angeles so that she could think things through.

She was still looking at him in that scientific kind of way, like she was examining a specimen. Like she knew he wasn't telling the truth- or at least, not everything. "Did you happen to talk with Gibbs about this brilliant idea of yours?" She lifted an eyebrow as she asked her question; and yet, she already knew the answer. Even if she was sure that Pride would have never admitted it- not openly, at least.

"Of course not. This has nothing to do with Gibbs." He said- shaking his head lightly, the sarcasm clear in his voice, and his smirk.

Even an idiot would have gotten it.

"Detective, just say the word, and you'll not have to board our plane." Brenda was looking at her in a way that Georgina knew all too well; it was a look that said I know what you are dealing with, I went through the same things as well. And I know what's best for you.

"I think I should inform you that I've already received a phone-call from Carver and one from the ADA about not knowing, understand and/or considering how much money there is behind a trial of those dimensions, how much money we'll owe Mr. Rowell now for unjust imprisonment, what the press will say and, did we consider that we are close to election time?" She paused, turned to face Pride, slightly disgusted. "The bit about election time has been underlined many, many times by our beloved District Attorney."

Brenda and Pride moved away, letting Newman to muse on her decision- something that she had little to no time to reflect upon.

"You all right?" Chris asked her, a friendly arm around her shoulder; Georgina shook her head, laughing.

"I can't believe that you people still gossip about me with Gibbs, years after I've left the city…" She was smiling- but the smile wasn't reaching her eyes, it was tense and false and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears; she dared to lift her eyes, and met Chris' ones. He was serious and worried, he was the kind of guy who worried about family, and who considered family his friends as well. "No, I'm not."

He tightened his grip on her shoulder as she rested her head on his chest. "I miss them… I've lost my brother and I feel like I've lost my sister too." She paused, closed her eyes, her voice all but a whisper caught in the breeze. "Sometimes I even think I lost myself… and now this. If I can't be a cop, what's left for me, Chris?"

Chris shook his head, and gently rubbed her shoulder, as she inhaled in and out, quietly, and looked at the horizon, the sun leaving room to stars that in the city couldn't be seen, the road filled with the everlasting music that never stopped in New Orleans.

"I think…" She started, her eyes closed and a small, bitter-sweet smile gracing her lips. "I think that I may like getting back here, after all."

"You staying for a while?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. I think it can be arranged. Besides, Pride's right. You need someone to look after yourself."

He hit playfully her on the shoulder, and they both laughed.

Maybe they were right, and she just needed to put some distance between herself and her problems, so that she could fully understand what was going on and decide the best plan of action with a clear head.

Or maybe it was simply time to change: she had escaped New Orleans many years before, but Los Angeles hadn't done her any good, despite all the promises and her hopes. There, she had barely survived, going through the motions, forgetting the woman – the human being even -and being all about the cop.

Maybe, getting back to basics was what she needed to remember who she truly was, and what she truly wanted out of life.