"Should we skip the you haven't changed a bit bull?" she asked, and it was essentially his worst nightmare playing out before his eyes. Holy. Shit. He was in so much trouble.
"Why start lyin' to each other now, Jen?" he asked, as cordial as he could manage.
"Any problem taking orders from me?" she asked.
"As a director, or as a woman?" he asked, wincing inwardly even as he asked. He knew that Kate would be thrilled by the idea of a female director... well considering who it was, she might reconsider. At least, she'd probably approve of the female part, not so much the former lover part.
"Either."
He shrugged. "It was six years ago." He figured that it was enough of a non-answer to keep her satisfied without having to explain anything else. He stood, and continued with "the past won't be a problem." And it wouldn't be.
He had Kate, after all.
He walked down the steps, and stood next to her. "You were a damn good, agent Jen." He was already realizing that he couldn't exactly be calling her Jen, not when she was Director of NCIS now. That would take a while to sink in.
"Jethro," she said.
"Madam Director," was his response. He saw her twitch a little, a reaction to the new title, and he almost grinned, even if it wasn't the most appropriate time.
They exchanged a smile, before he followed her out of MTAC, and she turned the conversation to business. "You have no physical evidence linking Ari to the shootings. It's no wonder that agencies in the US and abroad are having doubts."
They were heading for the stairs, and he gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to make a face at her back. Kate would have such a fun time with a female director. Empowerment and all that. "That bastard tried to kill of my people, Director, and now he's tryin' to kill more, and no suit with a tight sphincter is goin' to get in my way, including you, Jen." Shit. He'd done it again, but blew past her, intent on getting away as soon as possible.
He was a few steps down when she called him out. "Special Agent Gibbs."
He turned, and raised his eyebrows. He was in a hurry. He had a bastard to catch after all, and he didn't intend to let Jen get in his way.
"On the job, it will either be Director Shepard or Ma'am."
He nodded, feeling like a naughty child receiving a scolding, despite his advanced age and experience over Jennifer Shepard. "And off the job?" he asked, with a smirk, trying to rid her of the self-righteous smile on her face.
It threw her off, but she held firm. "There won't be any off the job, Agent Gibbs," she retorted.
"Yes ma'am."
She finally joined him on the staircase. "We can continue this little chat in private, shall we?"
"I gotta change, Director." He gestured to his rumpled clothing, the bloodstains on his pants from where he'd cradled Kate in his lap- "We can talk in the car."
She blinked, thrown. "Gibbs…" she trailed off, clearly about to reprimand him again.
"I've got a nearly-dead agent and a sniper on the loose, Director. I don't have ten minutes to spare." His phone rang again, and he checked it quickly, hurriedly sliding it back into his pocket when he saw the contact name R. Todd.
He couldn't deal with any more women at the moment, not when the one he actually wanted wasn't talking to him. "Important call?" Jen asked.
"No, ma'am." They had reached the bullpen, and he was intent on heading out, but first, he needed an update, so that he could at least have some semblance of being in control.
XNCISX
He'd panicked a little in the car, realizing to himself that he was taking Jennifer Shepard to his house, where evidence of his and Kate's domestic existence was everywhere. And he was going back alone, which he hadn't wanted to do, no matter what.
But they were here, and thankfully, Jen had been content to follow him to the basement. She was looking over the boat, but hadn't commented on the clutter upstairs. "What happened to the boat you were working on six years ago?"
"I burned it."
She was surprised by that, and turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "You burned it because you named it after your ex."
He stared, before switching off the overhead lamp. He was feeling much less grungy now, but putting the blood-stained pants in the hamper felt wrong. Almost like he was leaving the last of Kate behind. Until he remembered the bracelet in his pocket. Kate's bracelet. "Let's go," he said, eager to get Jen out of his – out of his and Kate's – house.
"Which ex-wife did you name it after?" she asked, and damn her, why did she have to pick now to get curious?
"You damn well know which one."
"Why didn't you just change the name?"
"It wouldn't have mattered… every time I went out on her, I woulda thought of Diane." Diane, one of the women who'd managed to make him more miserable, not that he'd thought it possible.
"You could have sold it."
He rolled his eyes, unimpressed with her logic, but she continued. "You didn't care who sailed off on Diane." She shook her head. "You're a strange man, Jethro."
"You were a good agent," he retorted.
She stepped back, clearly hurt. "Were?" she asked.
"Yeah, Director's job… pure politics." He waved a hand dismissively.
"I'm good at politics, Jethro. NCIS needs someone who can shake the money tree on the Hill and work with sister agencies."
He made a face at her hypocrisy. "You won't call a boat she, but ya will use the term sister agencies?"
"I'm a schizoid libber. Comes from working with chauvinists like you."
He snorted. "Can't believe you're givin' up field work for rubber chicken dinners."
"I don't think they serve that dish at Palena."
He started up the stairs, eager for them to get out of the house. Because if he were to walk into the kitchen, and find Kate's sweater draped over the chair, or find one of her books in the living room, exactly where she'd left them, he knew he was going to lose it, and he couldn't afford to do that in front of Jen. "Never heard of it."
"The food isn't takeout," she retorted.
"Which one of the tight sphincters is takin' ya to dinner? I hope it isn't Fornell."
"It's the CBS early show. They want a background before I go on TV."
His mind went blank for a second, and as soon as it started thinking again he went right back down the steps to where Jenny waited. "Ya can't do that."
"What?"
"Ari is a chauvinist, and he's takin' out the women I work with. And then he's targetin' me."
"People should know that Ari Haswari isn't the sniper," she said sternly. "You don't have any evidence to prove the doubters wrong."
"Have ya ever doubted me?" he asked, wishing it hadn't had to come to this.
"I've never professionally doubted you."
"Why are ya doubtin' me now?"
"I have to establish a working relationship with these people!"
"Are ya sidin' with them… or me?"
"Give me a tough question," she said, before finally heading for the stairs. Grumbling under his breath, he followed her up the stairs, wanting them both gone.
And all the way back to the bullpen, he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, and though he should have been answering every call, in case Palmer or one of the doctors was calling, he really couldn't deal with the Todd family at the moment. He was overwhelmed.
But once they got to the bullpen, things got markedly worse. As they walked into the bullpen, he found a woman who appeared to be waiting for Jenny to appear. She appeared to be European at least, maybe Middle Eastern… Israeli? She and Jenny kissed each other on the cheek as Gibbs exchanged a glare with Tony who winced at the sight.
"Well, you missed the big event, but NCIS didn't," Jenny told the woman, who smiled. They kept talking to each other, and Gibbs managed to go over to Tony.
"Ziva David, Mossad." Yes, she was Israeli. "She's here to stop you from whacking Ari."
Gibbs looked over at the young woman, who had to be in her early twenties at most. It was disconcerting to see someone so young already in the field. And then he realized Tony was waiting for an introduction. "Jenny Shepard, Director of NCIS. Same mission as Ziva."
Tony's mouth dropped open. "Director?" he sputtered. Gibbs glared at him, and he shut his mouth, offering a close-lipped grin.
Jenny brought over the young woman, Ziva, and introduced the two of them, as they shook hands. "Ziva David, Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she said, smiling benevolently.
Ziva spoke softly, but Gibbs could see that even as he was sizing her up, she was doing the same to him. "Jenny has spoken often of you."
"Really?" he asked, surprised.
"Ziva and I have worked anti-terrorist ops since 9/11. You saw one today up in MTAC."
"Was that one of yours?"
She smiled. "I only acquired the Intel." Her phone started ringing, and her eyes widened as she saw the caller ID. "Excuse me," she said briefly, before ducking away. Gibbs watched her for a second, knowing that there was more to her than met the eye. His gut was still churning.
"So… you're actually the Director?" He winced as he heard Tony ask a stupid question. What a great first impression.
"Yes, I really am the new Director of NCIS."
Tony giggled nervously as she walked away, and Gibbs had the sudden urge to hit something, and so he reacted instinctively, headslapping Tony on the way by.
Tony looked a little relieved, if sore, and grinned. "Good to have you back, boss."
Gibbs looked over, trying to find Ziva, but couldn't, so whistling innocently, he decided he'd take a little walk around the bullpen, his own phone ringing again. As he checked it, he saw a name he'd been dreading since the beginning. A Brennan.
He did not, under any circumstances, want to talk to Drew, and explain that not only had he failed in keeping Kate safe, but that it was his fault. He jammed the phone back in his pocket. He restlessly started pacing, waiting for Ziva to finish up her call so that he could politely interrogate her.
XNCISX
He was glaring at Tony as the two of them got into the elevator, unable to help himself. Of all the stupid, immature… "DiNozzo, I want ya on Ziva's ass."
Tony grinned, and Gibbs resisted the urge to punch him into the next century. There was a time and place for acting like a jackass, and now was not it. He headslapped again, harder. "I want ya to tail Ziva."
Tony winced. "I knew that."
"Ziva must've been in contact with Ari… it's the only way she could know that I hung up on Ari."
"I didn't want you pissed…" Tony stammered, looking frightened. Gibbs didn't even want to know what he looked like at the moment.
"Thought that is what ya wanted," Gibbs retorted.
"I-I… I did, boss, it was weird when you were being nice, and…"
Gibbs glared at him. "Spit it out, DiNozzo."
"If Ziva is right, then Ari knew that you'd trace the call… and maybe there's a chance Ari isn't the sniper?" he asked, looking as though he was expecting Gibbs to slap him again.
"Ziva was right." Gibbs said out loud. "Ari wanted us to raid the warehouse… he set me up. And now it could cost Kate her life." It shook him to the core, knowing that it really was his fault.
The elevator doors opened, and as Gibbs got off, Tony asked, "Is Ari a mole or a terrorist?"
Gibbs turned to him. "Ari is whatever works to play his game."
"If Ziva leads me to Ari?" Tony asked.
"Shadow him and call me," he replied.
"So you can bring him in?"
"I'll bring him in." But as the doors to the elevator closed, he bowed his head, and said almost in prayer. "I'll be bringin' him to the morgue."
He turned to stare into Abby's lab, where McGee and Abby were waiting for him to come for a briefing. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself against whatever damning information was going to prove that it was all his fault. He walked in.
"Gibbs!" Abby cried, and she looked better, though he could still see that her eyes were red. "Good, you're here."
"Yeah. Whaddaya got, Abs?"
She glowed a little, at this brief resemblance of normalcy. "The FBI database gave me six weapons whose rifling patterns fit the bullets Tony and McGee recovered."
McGee reached for one, and Gibbs held back a smile as Abby slapped his hand away. "I was able to get rid of a few, leaving three: A Tango 51, Bravo 51 and a Marine M40A1.
"My old friend," Gibbs said fondly, remembering a time when it was all less complicated, when he wasn't in danger of losing anyone but himself. He held up the rifle, and looked through it, as though preparing to shoot, the weight familiar in his hands. He could see that McGee and Abby were both impressed.
"Boss, you look pretty sweet holding that rifle!" McGee said, as though unaware of what he was saying. As Gibbs turned his glare on him, he stuttered. "I-I mean, I just…"
"I know what it means. Did Ari look sweet when he tried to shoot Kate, McGee?"
He blushed, looking at the floor, and muttered. "No, of course not."
"My vote is for the Tango 51 or the Bravo 51," Abby said. "What do you think, Gibbs?"
"Test rounds have more gougin' than Ari's… he was hand loadin' and moly coating."
"You are so good, Gibbs," Abby said with a smile, while McGee looked lost.
"What's moly coating?"
"Molybdenum disulfide, it's a lubricant, that decreases barrel wear but increases accuracy." Abby stated.
"McGee, run a trace on Tango and Bravo 51 sales over the last six weeks in the tri-state area, but check the Bravo first."
McGee nodded, before leaving, Gibbs now alone with Abby in the lab. It was quiet for a moment, an uncomfortable silence between them.
"Any prints on the brass?" he asked, if only to fill the silence.
"Your gut's telling you something… what is it?"
"I need coffee…" he trailed off, unwilling to say anything.
"I don't buy that for a second!" she retorted. "This isn't just another investigation. Todd is your agent, but Kate is my friend, so can you stop pretending that you don't care already? Does Kate mean anything to you?"
If he hadn't hesitated, it wouldn't have fallen apart. But having Abby staring at him, had him open his mouth only to close it again. And finally, when he did answer, his voice cracked a little. And he couldn't do it any longer. "Yes," he admitted quietly.
Abby noticed, and her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. "Oh my God. Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"
He offered a smile. "What, Abs?'
"You… and Kate? Really?"
"I didn't say anything!" he said, holding up his hands in surrender.
Abby threw her hands in the air. "Praise the Lord, finally, I thought you two would never get your act together!"
"What?" he asked, before she threw herself at him in a hug.
And then she pulled away. "Oh come on, Gibbs, the two of you have been pining over each other since forever. I just thought you would never act on it! I'm so proud of you two!" And then she froze, staring up at him. "… she's gonna be okay, Gibbs."
"I hope you're right, Abs. We didn't have enough time."
"How long…?" she asked, looking like she really wanted to know, and honestly, what was the point in lying to her any longer?
"Since Christmas," he said, smiling to himself. He wanted to show her the bracelet, before clearing his throat. "Abs… I want to catch the bastard."
She squeezed his arm. "We are going to catch the bastard. Now tell me what your gut is telling you!"
"Abs, what don't I believe in?"
She paused, and then started listing, as though it had been on the tip of her tongue. "UFOs, mystics, coincidences, saying you're sorry, excuses… I could go on all night."
"As a Marine sniper, I used hand-loaded Lapua .308 boat-tail, full-metal jacket, moly-coated bullets." She stared at him, and he continued, refusing to look at her. "Do ya know what a sniper calls a Bravo 51?"
"No…" she trailed off, and raised her eyebrows.
He obliged, his voice dropping to barely audible levels. "A Kate," he said, and hightailed it out of the lab, before Abby could see him cry.
XNCISX
It wasn't raining at the moment, but Gibbs could still feel a storm raging around him, and inside him. Grief, anger. He looked over to Kate's desk, dark in the completely empty bullpen, hoping for answers, only to find her still sitting in her chair, staring at him.
She smirked. "Re-evaluating your convictions, Gibbs? How many times have you told me that there's no such thing as coincidence?"
A Kate.
Bastard.
"Gibbs?" He turned, Kate no longer there, only to find Jen standing at the edge of the bullpen. "I know it's been a difficult day for both of us…"
He smiled. "That's what my D.I. used to say, but I never believed him." She turned to leave, but it was his turn to call her back. "Director. Having dinner with CBS?"
"I am."
"Don't do the interview." He paused. "Please." How many times had he asked Kate, used actual manners at this desk?
"I'll try and push it back a few days."
"Good."
"Good night, Gibbs." She walked out of the bullpen, leaving Gibbs to stare over at Kate's desk, where she was sitting again, her head bowed in the darkness.
He heard the elevator door ding! and looked over frantically when he heard a voice. It was Ducky's voice.
He was on his feet in a second, knowing that he'd told Ducky he couldn't leave, and he was racing for the elevator, but it was closed.
Something was very wrong, if Ducky was ignoring his instructions…
Was nothing going to go right?
