A/N: Ok, I know it's been like two months...sorry. I just flat haven't had the energy or the inspiration. But here's a short chapter. More soon, I promise.
As always, thanks goes to my wonderful beta, Trina109.
He sat for a few minutes after he hung up the phone, reflecting on what he'd just done. Somehow it felt like the first, irrevocable step to leaving the agency, even though it wasn't, not really.
There was something he wanted to do before he left, something that he was sure they wouldn't let an ordinary citizen do. He stood and walked up the stairs to the mezzanine, knocking courteously on the Director's office door. He had to get this sorted put now, before Vance got word that he'd cancelled his psych test and put two and two together.
To his mild surprise, he was admitted close to straight away.
"Agent McGee. What can I do for you?"
"I want to see Sergeant Adams" McGee surprised himself by blurting out.
For a moment the ever-present toothpick in the corner of Vance's mouth stopped moving; the Director fixed him with a stare that was almost as penetrating as Gibbs'.
"Why?"
He couldn't really explain that, not even to himself. How could you explain that he'd almost been killed by someone he'd never seen, and somehow it made it ten times worse than if he'd looked them in the eye? He had no idea, really, of what went on in Adams' head. Even in his dreams, Adams figured more as an amorphous shape, unmistakably malignant but without form. It wasn't right. Everyone else that they'd put away, he'd seen them, and it had helped him understand why they'd done what they'd done. But not Adams.
"He's going to be executed, isn't he Director?"
"Possibly."
"Part of the reason for that is because of what he did to me." It was a statement, not a question.
"That's right."
"He's the only person in the world that might be executed because of me. And I need to see." He cut himself off, knowing that his explanation hadn't made much in the way of sense and that his request would probably be denied.
But Vance surprised him. After a moment's unnerving staring, he tilted forward in his chair.
"Ok. I'll organise it with JAG."
McGee blinked in amazement. "Than-thank you sir" he stammered before he turned to leave.
"Don't let him get to you, McGee."
He nodded, not sure what to say, then opened the door and left.
...
JAG moved faster than he thought possible, with Commander Coleman calling him that afternoon to arrange meeting him at the Quantico brig early the next morning. He was obscurely glad that the team was still out in the field as he took the call, knowing he wouldn't be able to explain it adequately to Gibbs' satisfaction. As it was, he was forced to manufacture a check-up on his damaged shoulder to account for being missing for a sizeable portion of the next day- something he knew wouldn't sit well with Gibbs. But somehow, he didn't want the team to find out where he was going.