Warnings: While it is great to take time out to smell the roses just make sure they aren't hybrids with no scent. And in my unerring quest to offend, fans of Caitlyn Todd will find this chapter offensive as will McGee fans. Brides who are into OTT froth and bubble are probably sharpening their hat pins as we speak.
A/N: My good friend and Beta (I guess that makes her a Freta) beat my punctuation into submission for the chapter, so thanks for Arress for the beta. You always make my chapters so much more polished : ) I forgot to address a question in my last chapter about Gibbs possibly having a brain tumour. I blame my forgetfulness on having a part of the ceiling collapse on me. I must admit I thought the whole ceiling was going to come down around me. Thanks to those people expressing concern btw. Anyway… back to the brain tumour, no it is not likely because a good psychologist (and trust me) Stu Travers is an excellent psychologist, would have checked out any medical aetiology for his anger issues before beginning their sessions. What you have to remember is that Gibbs has shown his explosive temper before – when he is unable to get what he wants or he isn't in control. And when you think about what has taken place in this story, Tony's departure, Jackson's death, TPTB pushing him to retire as a field agent, being forced to participate in many workplace changes – well he is feeling like he has no control over things that he used to and his usual methods of dealing with conflict are being blocked. So IMHO I think his behaviour is quite expected. If his anger was due to a brain tumour then it's been affecting him for years and should have been picked up on his physicals.
Thanks to everyone who left reviews, alerted and made this a favourite - I appreciate your support. And I would like to recommend that you check out a story by my friend Frakking Toasters. This is her first story in the NCIS fandom after a long absence from writing. A brilliant first story but I hope not the last we see from her. The story is It Was A Bad Case s/11034883/1/It-Was-A-Bad-Case Enjoy :)
I Shouldn't Have To
Chapter 21 Home Truths
The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.
James A. Garfield
Emma Ingham thought about the elegant yet simple white dress with small panels of antique lace she'd decided was perfect to wear when she married Tony. It was exactly what she wanted, so she bought it and it was now hanging up in Lara's side of the closet in her bedroom. She never wanted a froufrou wedding dress or big gaudy nuptials; even as a little girl she was something of a tomboy. While definitely no longer a tomboy, she still favoured clean simple lines and sophistication over fairy tale concoctions and endless miles of tulle and sequins.
When she saw the dress, there was no good reason in her mind to keep on looking, just in case she encountered something more 'perfect'. This was it, so in her eminently practical fashion, she'd switched focus to looking for something equally stylish for Lara Pitt to wear. And perhaps it wasn't traditional, but Emma wasn't going to ask Lara to wear some nightmare of a bridesmaid or a prom style dress. She wasn't some silly insecure bride, afraid of being upstaged by her Matron of Honour and needing her to look hideous.
She hoped that Lara really did like the ecru coloured, cocktail length, strapless dress that had a lace three-quarter sleeved, over-jacket. She thought with the lace detailing, it complemented her full length dress nicely. Add in some dusky pale pink tea roses and shoes in antique pink to match her flowers and it would be beautifully elegant and timeless. Emma even thought it was the type of ensemble that wouldn't be out of place for a romantic dinner in the future or for one of the boring medical dinners Brad got invited to, courtesy of her fiancé's miracle survival of the plague. All Lara would need to do was add some nude coloured shoes and a clutch and she would look fine.
They'd decided ages ago that Lara was going to be her Matron of Honour and Brad was going to be Tony's Best Man. It was going to be a fairly quiet affair with some of the New York field office coming and her hospital workmates. Plus, they'd invited a few of her and Tony's old college friends, and a few of their former colleagues from DC.
Perhaps the biggest source of contention would be who to invite from DC and who to leave out. Strangely, one Delores Bromstead from HR, who was severe and seemed singularly bereft of a sense of humour, was a surprise inclusion on Tony's list of DC buddies. They'd met her today on the way down to Autopsy to see Ducky. Delores and Tony seemed like such an unlikely pair to become friends, she seemed taciturn and humourless, angular and harsh, and Tony was mercurial with a joie de vivre that, while a little bit battered, was still very much apparent. That's when he revealed it wasn't his charm or good looks that had won 'Fair Maiden's' heart – it was his sneaky investigative skills.
"It was Christmas and I was Delores' Secret Santa and I was in a funk over what to give her. I could have given her what I usually give women, like chocolates or gift vouchers for a manicure or facial…"
"Or honey dust," Emma interrupted jokingly.
Tony grinned and gave a mock shiver. "Yeah… no. Somehow I think I'd have gotten my balls handed to me if I'd done that."
"Oh, she might have thought you were coming on to her."
"Or laughing at her, which was why the beauty treatments were a no go, too. And chocolate seemed to say – I really can't be bothered or last minute panic unless it's for a date. So you see my dilemma, Nurse Emma?"
Giggling and rolling her eyes, she asked him, "So what did you get her in the end?"
"A toy…" Seeing Emma's raised eyebrows he slapped her wrist. "Behave wench! A doll that she'd wanted when she was a little girl and Santa never brought her. Know how it feels to want something for Christmas so bad and never get it."
Emma seethed, but tried not to reveal how much she'd like to hurt Tony's parents for being responsible for putting that expression on his face and the melancholy in his voice.
He saw her expression and misinterpreting her reaction, he chuckled somewhat bitterly. "Yeah, people always assumed that because we were rich I got everything my heart desired. Truth is, neither of them ever bothered spending time enough to ask what I wanted. One year when one of the staff took pity on me and took me to see Santa, I told him what I wanted for Christmas was my mother to hug me and for her to smell like flowers. She was never a demonstrative type, even before the drinking got out of control, but on the odd occasion she did, I learnt to hate the smell of spirits. Guess that's why I use to delude myself about Gibbs' head slaps being a sign of affection. When you have very little, you can construe a lot into something."
"So, how did you know about the doll?"
"I'm not an investigator for nothing, Buns."
"You investigated her?" Emma asked, incredulously.
"I take the fifth on that. Plausible deniability. What you don't know can't hurt either of us. Especially me!"
Smiling as she recalled their conversation, she resolved to give him extra hugs tonight a) because of what he missed out on as a kid and b) because he was such a sap sometimes under that brash exterior of his. The story of the doll touched her and she could understand why it had moved Delores Bromstead, too. Poor thing, even her name was the antithesis of warm and approachable.
Still, she seemed like a nice woman; once befriended, she'd become your staunchest of allies, and if Tony decided he wanted to invite her to the wedding she'd be fine with it.
The elephant in the room in terms of people in DC would have to be Gibbs. For so long, his opinion had meant so much to her soon-to-be-husband, but he'd been incredibly hurt and angry by the fool's behaviour. He seemed to have found some resolution going to tell his old boss he had no intention of becoming his lackey and taking over his dynasty simply because Gibbs decreed that it should be so. She knew that if he ever accepted the team he'd coveted for so many years, it wouldn't be because Gibbs anointed him. He wanted it free and clear of any perceived nepotism. He said that if he came back, he would come back not as Gibbs' poor replacement, but worthy of the job in his own right. The problem was, he concluded darkly, he just wasn't sure if he wanted it any more.
As they got ready to go out to dinner with Brad and Lara, she thought about the complexities of her soon-to-be-husband. He'd returned from his showdown with Gibbs looking as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and no doubt it had. She was glad for him, but she'd also wanted to give his former boss a piece of her mind. She hoped that Tony hadn't let him off too easy, something he had a tendency to do. He'd also come home sans his journal, and while she was furious that Gibbs hadn't given it back, she was also happy in a way. It gave her an excellent excuse to go over there and take it back later on.
Deciding to wear her LBD, Emma decided it should be a fun night. Dinner with her fiancé and the Pitts, and for dessert - Gibbs a la Flambé.
I Shouldn't Have To
Gibbs was in a state of shock. No one, not even DiNozzo, had ever dared to speak to him so damn harshly or bluntly, if it came down to it. Not even back in boot camp, and he'd come across some real pieces of work during his time in the Corps. His former senior field agent had totally let him have it with both barrels just now – not shrinking back in the face of his unbridled fury. Essentially saying what that butthole Stu Travers had said about his attitude, and a whole heap more. Both of them refusing to accept his reasoning that he deserved a leave pass since he'd endured a life bereft of Shannon and Kelly. Why couldn't they leave him alone like everyone else? He'd paid his dues, they owed him for having to sacrifice his loved ones, and he was pissed off that they seemed to feel otherwise.
And also causing a slow burning in his gut, chest, and his head was the accusation that he'd undermined DiNozzo's authority in the team. What a crock of shit – how could anyone in their right mind accuse him of that? He was a Marine for Pete's sake, and they damn well lived, slept and pissed by the chain of command. What the hell nonsense had DiNozzo been babbling about before when he asked him why the fool thought he hated him?
"…The constant belittling, the 12 years of undermining my authority and the way you let the others ignore the CoC, heck, actively encouraged it. Practically patted them on the head and gave 'em candy when they did it. Not just Tim and Ziva, but Cate, too, from the day she joined the team. You came right out and told her to ignore my orders…"
Yes, that was his accusation, which unfortunately also rang a distant bell for him from somewhere else. Where had he heard that phrase recently? After several more beers, including the one DiNozzo had declined, Jethro was feeling maudlin enough to want to find it, and he had a pretty good idea where to look, too. He'd been too much of a coward to go searching for it until he had several beers under his belt, just like he'd been too much of a coward to track him down and make things right between them in the months since he'd left DC. But in his current state of mawkishness, it felt utterly appropriate to inflict further misery upon himself. So, he went in search of DiNozzo's journal to find that passage about Caitlyn Todd and the CoC that he was sure he'd read.
He descending the stairs with a carefulness commonly adopted by the inebriated but trying to appear sober. It wasn't even 1700 yet and he was wasted, but he was still trying to convince himself he wasn't drunk. Gibbs reached the bottom step unscathed and crossed to the worktable and opened the drawer where he'd left the journal the last time he decided to have himself a pity party and read it. The reason why he kept it down here was because he only ever read it when he was at least partial intoxicated, since it was the only time he could read the uncensored handwritten thoughts of his former senior field agent. DiNozzo had been the one person who'd given him unquestioning loyalty for 12 years, even longer than his marriage to Shannon, and he'd stupidly chased him away.
It made him wonder about Shannon if she hadn't died – would she had, like Tony, eventually gotten fed up with him and left him too? He always thought they were a match made in heaven, but he'd thought he and DiNozzo were solid too. Then again, of their decade long marriage, he'd been deployed an awful lot and when at home he'd worked most of the time. Maybe if Shannon hadn't had a baby or if she'd had to spend as many hours with him each day as his team, she might have been more inclined to divorce him like the others had. And what of his beloved daughter? Would Kelly still think he was perfect, would he still be her invincible hero?
Gibbs had to hand it to DiNozzo, it had been one hell of a wakeup call accusing him of leaving the best part of himself behind. Pondering where it was he'd lost himself, he wondered if it had been at the front where he'd first heard the devastating news of their passing. Maybe on the grassy hillock in Mexico where he'd taken the sniper shot that killed Hernandez, or at the gravesite where his wife and daughter lay for eternity. And then to exit asking what his girls would think of the Leroy Jethro Gibbs he'd become – ballsy!
He made mental inventory - angry, vindictive, cruel and manipulative, and those were just his good points. Add to the list, afraid to open himself up to friendship and love, so he'd become bitter and lonely. Determined that those around him should be miserable too. If he dared to think about it, he knew that Kelly and Shannon would be so disappointed in what he'd allowed himself to be. Which was why he'd been determined to drink, knowing that enough alcohol would wash away all those painful insights come tomorrow.
And he was well on the way to that desirable destination; that was until that dang passage from the journal ate its way past his blissful oblivion like acid corroding into the strongest steel. Now, finally he found himself leafing through a handwritten book which had brought him nothing but soul-deep pain. Surely, he was a masochist for putting himself through this. Better to seek an alcoholic haze where he didn't have to hear the accusations or see the disappointment and bitter recriminations on the faces of the people he thought of as his friends and family. But those words of DiNozzo's, it was liked they'd been burned into his brain… burned into his memory, and he couldn't rest until he'd found and read then once more.
Ah, finally… he'd found it:
8th October 2003
Our second case as a team of three involving a dead Naval officer, Cr Brian Farrell aka SeaDog to the kids he mentored, caught in the middle of a gunfight by terrorists intent on blowing up the electricity grid. Coming after the terrorist plot to assassinate the President, this was just a bit too close for comfort. Plus – oh joy - I got to see that bastard Fornell again who thought he was oh so amusing when he joked about tossing me out on the beltway in a body bag. I'm damned lucky not to have been killed, but I guess at the very least Gibbs and Fornell would have got a laugh out of it.
Of course we managed to save the day and stop the terrorist taking out the electricity grid but honestly, the most noteworthy thing about this whole case was that Gibbs just set me up in my role as SFA to fail with our probationary agent, Caitlyn Todd. She's already pretty damned full of herself, thinking that she knows everything about investigating, hardly describe her as being unassuming or accepting of any training advice that I try to offer.
So I was pretty pissed when Gibbs told her that I don't get to tell her what to do, he does. I mean sure, he is team leader and he does have the final say, over riding me but I do have supervisor powers over her as senior field agent. There was no need to emasculate me like that, and at a crime scene with others around too. And she just couldn't wait to tell me exactly what he said, her smug look made me wish I could slap her silly. Of course even though I was escorting Diane Fontaine off the crime scene, with my acute hearing, I already knew.
Oh I get that he wanted her to do something else but he could have dealt with it in such a way that didn't make her lose what little respect she had for me. It would have been the professional thing to do. It would have preserved the appearance that he observed the chain of command or at least encouraged her to do so. And all that was needed was a simple 'Yes but now that I'm here, I'll take over and you go process the boat.' Hardly rocket science!
But then maybe it was his intent to make sure that she doesn't follow the chain of command. While he told me back when he hired me that 'you don't waste good', he doesn't seem to be exactly happy to have me on the team anymore. Feeling rather like the unwanted maiden aunt that no one wants living with them, to be perfectly honest. He and Todd have joined forces to belittle me every time I open my mouth. Maybe he plans for Cate to take over my job when her probationary period is up. Wish he'd be up front about it, though.
She sure seems eager to neuter me. Gibbs reckoned Todd had balls when we worked the case with her on Air Force One, but I think she's more of a ball breaker myself. I could see her being employed at one of those no-kill animal shelters were they neuter and castrate every animal they take in. I reckon she could do the castrations with just her tongue. It's so damned sharp it probably should be registered as a lethal weapon. I can just see it…"Hey there doggy… call those testicles? I've seen bigger ones on hamsters." And Mr Testicle and his buddy would shrivel up with embarrassment and die.
She's already accused me of sexual assaulting her when I was searching around in the truck for my seatbelt. Considering the reason for her hasty resignation, it's a bit rich to be acting like a blushing virgin because I accidentally touched her. I wonder how she'll handle the close quarters aboard the ships when we have to conduct investigations. If I was an asshole like she thinks, I'd call her bluff and ask for her complaint to be investigated.
But it seems that she has decided I'm a sexist pig and in light of that assessment my comments, even case related ones, seem to be an open invitation for her to make me feel like an idiot, especially in front of colleagues including those from other agencies. On just this case she's already been disrespectful to me in front of Fornell and that DEA guy, Fuller. Gibbs meanwhile does diddly… no, not true. He grins or worse – he joins in!
Not sure how a profiler can make such an inaccurate assessment about a co-worker after such a sort time, but I'm finding myself giving her what she expects. If I'm going to be hung for being a sexist pig then why shouldn't I act like one? So when she tells me in her oh so sarcastic voice when I have managed to find out information about the van that the terrorists are driving that helped identify their target, that it was really smart, I can't help myself. I bait her by saying that it was nothing - any guy could do it and then watch her scowl. And I'm still not sure what she based her profile on, but as a profiler she should know better than to make snap judgements about people.
I wonder was it that I used a magazine with a girl in a bikini on the cover to explain to her why at a crime scene we took measurements and made sketches. I'm mean, I just used a teaching aid that happened to be on hand to demonstrate the principle… it wasn't mine, it was one someone had left lying around. And if I'd been most feds they would have told her to get lost and kept on working, but I tried in the spirit of interagency co-operation to maintain a good working relationship with her. More fool me.
Still with her Secret Service contacts I guess I can see why Gibbs would want her as his SFA. He's had two years to realise that I'm not so good after all. I guess it's time to be moving on soon. I suppose it wouldn't be professional to go until Todd is a special agent, so I'll hang around til her probationary period is over, I guess. I hope she has post graduate qualifications as it is a prerequisite for supervisory roles.
I wonder what it is about me that people find so abhorrent. And here I thought Gibbs was different, but I guess the fault must lie with me; disowned, dumped at the altar, betrayed by Danny – Gibbs can't stand me, yep it's me, it has to be…
Gibbs, despite the numbing effects of the beer and Jack he'd consumed, felt like a mule had kicked him in the guts. Damn, DiNozzo was right! Reaching for the bottle of Jack, he poured another slug of the amber liquid and thumbed through the journal until he arrived at the case that still gave him nightmares since he'd been so focused on finding Ari he'd developed target fixation and he'd almost lost DiNozzo.
6th May 2004
Another case closed. I was drugged with Bron, a combination of speed and codeine, ended up locked in the sewer with a rotting corpse and our UA Marine, Sergeant Bill Atlas. A man who was more dead than alive but I managed to get us out of that terrible little room and was trying to find our way out when Gibbs and Cate turned up. I remember not making a whole lot of sense by that point – asking him what he was doing there. Stupid idiot, of course they were there to save Sgt Atlas – after all Gibbs would never leave a Marine behind. It's a point of honour.
I also remember acting totally off my face in the elevator when we got back to the bullpen. Damn fool - I was trying to make Gibbs admit he was worried about me. Clearly I had to be still feeling the effects of the drugs because I know damned well that you don't ever try to force him to do anything… not if you want to live that is. So I really shouldn't have been surprised that he made me pay for it. And with Gibbs, no one does psychological torture like he does. He has this almost psychic sense of how to deliver a killing blow and boy did he execute it.
Coming to a stop, he turned to face me and grabbed my face with both hand, and I still remember the light reflecting of his silver ID bracelet, before telling me I was irreplaceable. I admit in my drug induced and post adrenaline rush I was floating on the biggest endorphin high imaginable to hear those word. Of course, if I'd been sober I never would have begged for the affirmation since I know damned well that Gibbs would regard it as a sign of weakness and vulnerability. Still that didn't mean that I didn't desperately want to hear those words in a utopian universe – simply that I'd never have tried to make him say them. I'd given up thinking that the man who'd recruited me more than two years ago thought I was worth it. My usefulness was limited and I reckon I'm well and truly past my use by date. Yep, I'm definitely on the nose.
So then to be astounded by his apparent effusive praise combined with the effects of the bron… well it left me as high a freakin' kite with euphoria that made me feel I was flying, which I guess was his objective. Without a doubt Gibbs knew what effect those words would do to someone never considered indispensable in his whole life by anyone, not even my parents… especially my parents. And the feeling of indestructibility, of ecstasy, of being able to conquer the world… well it was as fantastic as it was short lived when Gibbs made me suffer the ultimate price for thinking I could force his hand.
Calling out to Timothy McGee, the Norfolk computer guy we call on to help out sometimes, who was currently sitting there at my desk with a huge shit eating grin plastered across his mug. 'Forget about it McGee. He's still alive.' He then headed to his desk and sat down, smiling that famous half grin of his at the awesome smack down he'd just delivered.
And there it was – I was so damned irreplaceable he'd already offered my job to McGeek before they'd located my body. Before I had the bad manners to turn up alive of course, but it really shouldn't have been such a knock-out blow. I'd been baiting him and Cate pretty much the whole case. Seeing that our probie had such a poor opinion of me, I couldn't help but play up to it. Telling her that all men lie to women and asking her if she really thought she still looked 25 had been a little bit of revenge for her scorn… and well it was the truth. And as I explained to her after flirting shamelessly with the waitress Vanessa, pushing the boundaries is what I loved about the job.
Well okay, it used to be having Gibbs' six and helping people and being the best damned investigator I can be to live up to his faith in me. But ever since Gibbs had thrown out the whole observance of the chain of command, rendering me impotent and made it pretty damned clear that Cate would soon be his 2IC, I live to push the boundaries. After all, I was just holding the place open since a probationary agent couldn't be SFA. Of course after telling her I loved to push boundaries, I couldn't help adding the bit about beautiful women because even though she had already made up her mind that I was a sexist pig, it was fun to see if I could exceed her expectations. Sure it's juvenile to play up to her misconceptions but seriously, between her elbow jabs and personal attacks and Gibbs joining her in the character assassination and his head slaps, basically they've rubbed me up the wrong way. When I'm rubbed up the wrong way I get obnoxious, petty and juvenile.
So in the elevator, I guess it was inevitable that I finally pushed Gibbs too far and he decided to show me just how tenuous my job is and who holds all the power – as if I was ever in any doubt. And it also seems pretty clear that Gibbs would rather have two probationary agents watching his six than a dumb cop like me. Still Cate guarded the President and McGee went to MIT – how can I compete with that?
I only wish I didn't feel like it would be unprofessional to resign in the wake of the terrorist that took our people hostage and shot Gibbs and poor Gerald. I was going to leave when Cate's probationary year was up in a couple of months, but in good conscience I can't leave until we get the bastard. Gerald nearly lost his arm, probably only saved it because Ducky was a hell of a lot more than just the medical examiner.
Meanwhile… if I could only get the smell of death out of my hair. That corpse was really ripe and I know from past experience that even after the physical traces has finally dissipated, the psychological odour will linger much longer, haunting even my dreams. I wonder how it is possible to smell death when you are asleep…perhaps I am crazy.
At least it looks as if Sgt Atlas will recover… at least physically.
Reading that entry, he couldn't help it. He found himself imagining what he'd have done if Franks had been a total A-hole and treated him like that. He'd have probably decked the bastard and requested a transfer, but then again, he hadn't endured the childhood that DiNozzo had. Sure he'd butted heads with Jackson growing up, but he'd always known that he was loved by both his parents, and until his mother got sick, they acted like his parents and made sure he was taken care of. He got to be a kid. DiNozzo had pretty much reared himself, and he was a darn sight more forgiving and caring about others in spite of the way he behaved.
Curious in spite of himself about if the chain of command resolved itself when they went from three to four, despite what DiNozzo had said, he searched for the entries written after McGee joined the team as a probationary field agent. Surely, things had gotten better? Three was an awkward number, but four was balanced.
8th December 2004
Rapists or even would be rapists lie… they will always blame the victim… say they were asking for it… they were sluts… they dressed like whores… she invited them in… didn't say no. It was all pretty standard stuff really, just Rape 101 as any cop could tell you. Just like in most cases of murder it was generally the spouse/partner who committed the crime and most cases of children being molested it wasn't a stranger but a close friend or family member that was the perpetrator. All just statistical facts and ones that the lowliest beat cop know damned well since they get to see so many cases of rape, molestation and violence, so they soon learn that the statistics, at least as far as these crimes are concerned, are correct. And on this case even though I knew that, because I am that lowly cop, I let the absence of the CoC, the team's blatant disrespect and Cate's emotional involvement and sexual hang ups distract me from the truths I learnt the hard way. And I failed to protect the victim… I let Laura Rowens down.
I tried to explain to Todd and McGee that rapists lie after she bonded with the would-be rapist in the hospital. He'd spun her a cock and bull story about how he and Mrs. Rowens were having an online affair and she'd invited him over for sex. But it seems that the probie and our profiler know better than I do about how to investigate sexual assault. Even if I have 9 years of experience and worked on countless rape cases and they've worked on… oh wait, this one was their first. So when Probie decided to lecture me about not ruling out Mrs. Rowens as a suspect I saw red. I get that they both think they are smarter than me, but in the normal CoC they would at least keep those thoughts to themselves. I mean even when they think Gibbs is full of crap they wouldn't dream of telling him that. They shut up and follow his orders, but not with me.
Cate and her totally unprofessional practice of taking something that is case related that I've said and turning into a personal insult has seemingly rubbed off on the probie, as well. When I delivered my rapists lie 101 lecture and ask him, 'do you really think we should traumatise Laura Rowens because she's been through enough crap already,' he tells me I'd know, since I'm the master of crap. And I snapped, knowing that if he'd said that to Gibbs he'd kill him after he tossed him off the team, but hey he said it to DiNozzo, no worries! So I told him to watch his lip when I really wanted to tell him that his behaviour was insubordinate and unacceptable and that I'd write him up for it. But I didn't because I knew that Gibbs wouldn't do anything about it because…aw hells bells HE NEVER DID. He just acted like it was a big joke when Cate came in acting like the senior field agent to tell me what was going to happen.
And from that point on because I lost my temper I dropped the ball. Then when the boss and Todd found the so-called emails to Jeremy Davison that Laura was supposed to have written, it all began to snowball and I messed up badly again. Cate's refusal to let me see the emails, and as her supervisor on any other team I would have had her ass for that act of insubordination since she had no right to block my access to evidence, meant that I screwed up. I should have investigated them further since she's so damned squeamish about anything to do with sex. Sometimes I have trouble reconciling how she managed to sleep with the President's ball carrier which was flagrantly against the rules when she was Secret Service. Bet she did him in the dark, with her eyes closed and said a score of Hail Marys afterwards.
So because of my failure to follow up, there was a shift of the team's perception about the crime that meant that we began viewing all the evidence with the bias that Laura was the guilty party and Davison the poor chump. It was a return to the bad old days of investigating sexual assaults where female rape victims found it impossible to get people to believe them… the law was totally biased to the male offender. Once we took the viewpoint that the woman was a predator looking to blame the poor male, then when the faked emails and webpage emerged, the degree of scepticism demanded in modern day law enforcement processes was absent. Which, not surprisingly, made us make mistakes that in turn caused irreversible damage.
What else but attribution bias could explain how both McGee and Abby, two supposed Michelangelos of the computer keyboard, could fall for the faked up evidence? Or how the team could be taken in by Michelle and Jeremy Davison the rapist and his 'sister'. You can't tell me that those two dirtbags are smarter than the two geeks with their genius IQs, and yet they fooled us all and put an innocent Marine's wife through a living hell – all while her husband was deployed overseas and she was alone. Job well done, Anthony! You must be so proud.
A perfect example of why chain of command exists in the first place - to provide check and counter check against such basic mistakes occurring. No one expects rookies not to make mistakes, but that is where supervisors are supposed to provide the checks and balances to stop them going off in the wrong direction. But since I'm senior field agent in title only and I was pissed that neither McGee or Todd could see that I had experience in rape cases, in fact were openly disrespectful, I lost my focus and let the team go off on the wrong tangent. I went off on the wrong direction too instead of listening to my own intuition and experience. Since when did I start doubting myself?
I became a cop to help people in trouble. Well great job today… you can be so proud of yourself. Guess Senior was right all along about you, Anthony. You're nothing but a screw-up.
Gibbs closed the journal, unable to stomach more, even in his drunken masochistic state. What if that had happened to Shannon? If he was Rowens, he'd have ripped his asshole a mile wide and then shoved his head up it. No, not true… he'd have shot the NCIS SOB that did that to his wife and then he'd go find the rapist and kill him slowly and painfully. And yet he'd never even thought about her after they closed the case, or how the way he lead the team contributed to the monumental screw up. And it was a screw up, but as team lead it was his FUBAR because the buck was supposed to stop with him, but he'd accepted the findings of his team unquestioningly.
Sure, they'd arrested the dirt bags in the end and their close out stats weren't compromised, but DiNozzo was right. The damage they'd caused couldn't be undone, and he wondered what had happened to Major Rowens and his wife. He remembered her telling him that she didn't fit in with the other Marine wives since she didn't have kids. Did they support her afterwards or did they think that because she was under suspicion that there was good reason for her to be arrested? The old where there's smoke there's fire chestnut?
Here he was an ex-Marine charged with protecting Marines, sailors and their dependants, and his team had caused a traumatised wife to be unjustly accused when she had done nothing wrong other than defend herself and survive. The truth was that he should have let DiNozzo have point on the case since he'd worked a lot more rape cases than Gibbs had, even as an MP. Hell, even if he'd allowed him to do his job as senior field agent instead of cutting him off at the knees and making sure he was ineffectual, Laura Rowens might not have had to suffer the trauma of a hostile interrogation by him or been wrongfully arrested by the MPs for suspected murder.
Reaching for the bottle, he poured the last of it into his coffee mug and slammed it down, wanting to forget.
End Notes:
LBD is a little black dress
In Sea Dog - her second case - Cate called Gibbs a sexist pig twice, Tony three times and also accused him of groping her. Her total tally of insults that she makes against Tony for the episode is ten plus she is openly scathing when she makes them. Hardly the banter that most people claim taking place between the pair. Most of the time Tony looks surprised, hurt or fed-up. And let's not get started on her vicious taunting over the Amanda Reed/Voss kiss that went on for over a year after Dead Man Walking. Never once did Tony retaliate as he could have done about her having to leave the Secret Service due to sexual impropriety. And I don't know about anyone else, but when I start a new job I wouldn't dream of making vitriolic attacks on my co-worker. I'd be too busy trying to learn the job and create a good impression - after all as Fornell points out in the episode when she pisses off Gibbs, she is running out of places to work.