Chapter 7: Jimmy's mourning

Frankly, I've always been terrified of the man.

His mere presence in the room seemed to spark the worst part of me, that one that always gave the strangest ideas to my brain and made me say the most inappropriate thing at the wrong moment in front of the wrong person.

All he had to do then was look at me with those piercing blue eyes and my brain would dig into its huge collection of useless facts and surprise, here is wasted another great chance that I could have used to stay quiet and instead, I've just alienated him again.

Just my dumb luck.

Yet, I can't deny that his mere presence in the room seemed to spark an eagerness in those around him to do their best, to seek justice and to … well, to be like him.

His friendship with Dr. Mallard has always confused me a little, as two more diverse people in the whole universe are very hard to find.

Dr. Mallard's frequent streams of consciousness, his encyclopedic knowledge on anything and everything and his eagerness to share said knowledge with others was a sharp contrast with the taciturn and mostly silent man who ruled over MCRT with just a glance, making his agents actually anticipate his orders before he even voiced them out loud.

Yet, now he is dead.

And I see each of my friends and my beloved Dr. Mallard sinking in a deep well of sadness that I feel that they won't be able to crawl out without help.

And that's the reason why I'm here.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Director Vance will see you know, Mr. Palmer," says Vance's secretary, and I check my tie for the ninth time in the last five minutes before I enter to talk to my Boss' Boss.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Palmer," Vance says without looking up from the papers in his hands, and I can literally feel sweat starting to appear on my back as I sit slowly in the chair in front of his desk. A nervous tick also appears on my eye, and I blink desperately trying to get rid of it.

My hands are sweating like crazy, but all this nervousness is not going to change me of my set course.

Finally he puts aside the papers and study me, making me feel even more nervous about what I'm about to do.

"How can I help you, Mr. Palmer? It's quite unusual for you to come directly to me requesting a meeting about - and I'm quoting you here - 'a serious matter that must be addressed in order to guarantee the future of NCIS'." Vance says, reading from the letter I've sent to his secretary requesting a spot in his calendar to talk to him.

I cringe at his ironic tone, "I think I was too much pompous on my request, but desperate circumstances require desperate measures, and I've felt that you are the only one here in the office who could offer me help."

"Really? So, pray, tell me, what do you need me to do?"

I bite my lower lip, considering my options before leaning towards the Director, "I believe you have noticed how things have been... different, since Agent Gibbs' untimely death three weeks ago."

Vance's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline, as I've probably surprised him with my conversation topic.

"Indeed. What do you classify as... different, Mr. Palmer?"

"Abby's lab is silent as she refuses to listen to music anymore. Ziva, Tony and McGee are barely functioning as they are now back to work but their hearts are not into it." I approach Vance's table, looking around as if afraid of someone besides the director could hear my next words.

"Ducky's conversations with the dead have changed. Instead of asking personal things, or how did they died, he is actually asking the corpses if they have already seen Agent Gibbs since their arrival in the Pearly Gates of Heaven."

Vance is staring at me with inscrutable eyes, "I see."

"That's the point, you don't," I disagree with him, and I immediately blush as I see him frowning at me for daring contradict him. But I ignore my churning fear in my gut and plow ahead, "You are here, in your office, and you haven't really seen how Gibbs' death shook the team. None of them are the same. And we have to do something, because they will soon be in a depression so deep that if we don't take action now, I really don't know what will happen with them."

Vance stares at me for a long moment, and I realize that I have just reprimanded the Director of NCIS and I have accused him of being blind, egoistical and unaware of the problems of his own agents.

I gulp, "I, of course, do not mean any disrespect towards you, as you have other matters that need to be addressed in your day to day as Director, but I'm in daily contact with one or, on some days, all of them, and I'm deeply worried that something must be done."

"Your concern about your colleagues is commendable; however, I don't know what else I, as Director of NCIS, can do to help them cope with the death of their team leader. I've given them bereavement leave and offered more time off so they could sort their heads. I've offered psychological counselling - which was refused, if I might add - and I've also offered Agent DiNozzo the leadership of the team, giving him free choice over the fourth member of the team to cover the current vacant spot. What else do you expect me to do?"

I push my glasses back over the bridge of my nose, nervously glancing at my hands, before I lift my eyes to Vance's, "I need your help to do the following: We will..."