AN: As warned at the end of the previous chapter, there is angst below. But please do not blame me as it was the Great and Powerful Belisario who did it!

Disclaimer: still own nothing.

Nice Shoes

Jack could always tell the Secret Service apart from the rest because of their shoes. The politicians wore top class designer label shoes. The aides wore top class designer knock-off shoes. The military advisors (himself included, unfortunately) wore the highly polished dress shoes required of the uniform. But the Secret Service, they were special. They didn't wear the fancy loafers or the shiny dress shoes. Their shoes were practical, functional. They were comfortable enough to be able to run for mile in, but wouldn't look horribly out of place at a formal function.

Which is why he was surprised upon meeting Agent Kate Todd and discovering that she was wearing boots with a slight heel.

After his meeting with the President on board Air Force One, Jack found himself sitting next to Agent Todd, and his natural curiosity couldn't be contained (not that he even tried).

"Agent Todd?"

"Yes sir?"

"I need to ask you about your …shoes."

Jack was sure that the look on her face was one that he would remember for a while.

"…My shoes, sir?"

"They appear to be non-regulation, Agent Todd."

The confusion in her eyes diminished slightly, but was definitely still there.

"Sir, the Secret Service doesn't have regulation shoes."

"Oh you know what I mean! You can't possibly chase down would be assassins in those. You'd break your ankle!"

The confusion was now gone and a hint of smugness started to appear.

"Well, thank you for your concern sir, but I can run perfectly fine in these, I've had plenty of practice over the years. Besides sir, these are my favourites."

"Because of the pretty stitching?"

The smugness was strong and now Jack was worried.

"No sir, because of the steel caps. Makes it easier to kick those would be assassins in their …weak spots."

At this Jack burst out laughing and wasn't able to stop for a while.

As they disembarked from Air Force One, Jack turned to Kate and handed her a small piece of card. "If you ever get sick of the Secret Service, give me a call. I'm pretty sure we would have a position for someone with your skills. And your shoes."

"Thank you sir, but I should probably tell you that Deep Space Telemetry doesn't really seem like my kind of thing."

"You might be surprised Agent Todd, you might be surprised."

He saw her several times after that, most of the time on Air Force One, but he spotted her a couple of times around the White House, and once at a diplomatic function. Each and every time he greeted her with "Nice shoes!" and the standard farewell from him would be "If you ever get sick of the Secret Service…" to which she would laugh and reply "Deep Space Telemetry – not my thing, sir!"

……….

It took him a month or two, but he noticed that he hadn't seen her around recently. When he asked after her, he was told that she was now working for NCIS after an incident that had resulted in her being 'released' from her position in the Secret Service. Muttering under his breath at the bureaucracy and stupidity of the Service, Jack promptly emailed Kate at her new job demanding to know why she hadn't contacted him. Her reply was along the lines of the fact that she now got to catch the bad guys as well as put her shoes to good use.

Her next email was to express her surprise and appreciation for the new pair of steel capped boots that had appeared on her desk (and also adding something about them being nicer than the pair that her new boss had given her on her first day).

They had stayed in touch over the next two years, not being best friends, but staying strong acquaintances. She would send him character sketches of her new work mates, and all of his emails would end with "If you ever get sick of NCIS…"

But she never got the chance to get sick of it and now here he was, standing at the rear of a group of mourners gathered around a gravesite. He could identify her work mates easily, not just from the character sketches that she had sent, nor from the black bands displayed across their Agency badges. It was the look of loss in their eyes, the look that said she had not just been a team-mate, but had been a friend and family member also. A look that he well remembered.

And as they left the cemetery accompanied by the upbeat jazz tune (something he was absolutely certain that Kate would have loved), Jack stepped up to the casket and laid his rose to rest, around the stem of which was wrapped a charm bracelet with a single charm.

A tiny pair of boots.

TBC

AN: OK, have to admit that neither Kate or Jack are my favourite character in either verse so I had kinda a hard time writing this. Oh well, hopefully will have better luck with McGee and Sam in the next chapter!