Disclaimer: I own nothing but the typos. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited and followed.
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Not long after talking with Tony DiNozzo, Internal Affairs Agent Schuyler Harris waits for his next interview. Jethro Gibbs was due to arrive ten minutes ago, but there is still no sign of him. Vance said it would take some work to make the SSA appear, but Harris had expected him to show up. Based on Gibbs' history as a Marine sniper, he should possess a sense of honor and duty in loads.
I'd like to think he'd have enough honor to come to our meeting.
Sighing, Harris tries to avoid watching the clock. In his line of work, only the guilty and the disinterested fail to show up for their meetings. If Gibbs values his team at all, he'll show up because right now, Harris' investigation appears to be a classic he said, she said situation. There weren't any recording devices in the car when the microphone went dark, so Harris is relying on their statements. Harris needs Gibbs' input on how his team members function together. In situations like this, every and any detail will help.
Flipping back through his notes, Harris reviews Tony's interview to pass the time. Right now, Harris can't be sure how much value to put into Tony's belief that his teammates turned off his own recording device. Once was bad enough for what Tim McGee went through. Though, if what Ziva David said to Tony, there might be a pattern. From what Harris can tell from his interview and Tony's file, the man is a good agent with even better instincts. If he worries that his team might not have his six, there could be some truth to the fear. And if there is even a possibility, it is Harris' responsibility to get to the bottom of it…regardless of how many careers he ends in the process.
After interviewing Gibbs—if he ever bothers to show up—Harris' plan is to pull the recordings from the days in question and listen to them. He already listened to Tim's assault and that was hard enough. To hear the junior agent calling for help and there is a moment, where his voice breaks, when he realizes no one is coming. It was enough to turn Harris' blood to ice.
Tony was close in his estimations. It took him eight minutes for Tony to find Tim. Eight minutes is how long it took for them to respond to his call for help.
I still hear the panic in his voice. It never should have happened.
Harris' frown deepens as he checks his watch. Gibbs is already pushing fifteen minutes. For a man rumored to be so punctual that you could set your clock to him, he sure is running late. Harris isn't quite ready to think the man decided the interview isn't worth his time. Though at this rate, he might have to ask Vance to force Gibbs to appear under threat of suspension. Harris would rather not go that route because those interviews never reveal any extra information. It only makes people lie.
While Harris waits, he reviews his notes. He takes a sip of what the Navy Yard considers coffee. Tomorrow, he'll be stopping at the Starbucks down the street on his way in.
The time ticks toward the half-hour mark. Harris decides to call Gibbs a no-show and head down to the evidence locker to request the recordings from Tony's undercover operations.
A figure suddenly appears in the doorway.
Harris climbs to his feet, almost surprised Jethro Gibbs chose to show up.
Up close, Gibbs is far more intimidating than his reputation precedes. Harris heard the scuttlebutt around Great Lakes, the hushed whispers about a man who makes suspects confess with a mere glare and solves cases with no evidence. The rumors about the man who runs his team into the ground for results of which the agency has never seen. Harris didn't believe them because behind every rumor, there is a man, an ordinary human, upon whom the legends are built. Myths are nothing more than the hopes and dreams of mortals, that someday, they may be something bigger than themselves.
Now, he doesn't know what to think.
Harris offers his hand, but Gibbs doesn't shake it. He holds a coffee cup in his right hand as though he is trying to avoid shaking Harris' hand. Instead, his eyes glide over Harris, sizing him up and trying to determine if he is even a threat.
To his credit, Gibbs' eyes don't linger on Harris' facial injury.
Harris is used to people staring at his scar. Usually, there is the tilt of a head, a gape of a mouth, or a slight widening of the eyes. Then, there are the people who avert their eyes and those who can't look away.
It's the ones who don't even see it that knock Harris off his game. They are so far, so few and far between that it makes him remember that the scar is even there. That's when Harris remembers the high-speed case that he and his partner weren't even supposed to be a part of.
Just stop thinking about it. That was a long time ago, Schuyler.
Harris hears his own voice, from somewhere far away, telling his partner to drop the suspect, to follow protocol because they weren't supposed to be involved. A run of the mill drug deal that they witnessed isn't the jurisdiction of two federal agents. That's when he hears the squeal of tires, feels the impact of T-boning the sedan as his partner blows a red light. Remembers the piece of shrapnel that killed his first partner and nearly cleaved Harris' own skull in two. The weeks in the ICU and recovery at home. How NCIS thought he was disabled, even though his brain and body still worked, but his eye was gone. He couldn't fire a weapon anymore and so, he couldn't be a field agent. How he managed to claw a spot in Internal Affairs because that's where he could still be investigator without needing to be in the field.
In the end, Harris blinks first. He looks away, sighing quietly. He straightens his tie.
How Gibbs managed to dredge up those buried emotions with a single glare is beyond him.
Still, Gibbs doesn't move. He is trying to remind Harris that he is the one in control. That would be the reason he was late, why he stands there staring, why he waits for Harris to speak first.
"Agent Gibbs," Harris says.
Gibbs merely guts his chin out in greeting.
"Thanks for joining me," he continues. "Are you ready for our interview?"
Gibbs shrugs. "Yeah."
Holding out his hand, Harris gestures at the empty seat that Tony vacated a few hours ago. Gibbs collapses into it, but even when he is sitting, he seems to be at attention. Harris slides into his own chair, grabs his pen, and reaches for his recording device. He doesn't turn it on before Gibbs speaks up.
"Marine?" Gibbs asks.
Harris' good brow furrows. "Excuse me?"
"You were a grunt." It's a statement, not a question. "Gunny?"
"Terminal Lance. Did my time and got out when I could. Though, I know you were a HOG." Harris rubs at the back of his neck. "That was long, long time ago. Remember that we aren't in the sandbox anymore."
Gibbs just nods slowly. Once a Marine, always a Marine. No matter how much Harris tries to bury his past, the former military always seem to notice. He wants to put that part of his life behind him. Thankfully, Gibbs doesn't ask where he was stationed or where he served. He doesn't seem like he wants to talk about his tours either.
Harries gestures at his recording device. "Can we get started, please?"
There's a flash of an amused smile before Gibbs nods.
"Great." Harris switches on the device. "This is Agent Schuyler Harris from Internal Affairs, and I am interviewing Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Can you state your name for the record, Agent Gibbs?"
Gibbs blankly stares at him. Harris motions with his pen.
When Gibbs still doesn't speak, Harris says: "The device won't know your name unless you say it."
Gibbs narrows his eyes at the recorder. "Gibbs."
When Harris waits for Gibbs to report his full name and NCIS rank, the older man doesn't. He just continues trying to bore a hole through Harris' head. Right now, Gibbs' stare is making Harris' skin crawl. Maybe it's intentional and maybe it isn't. Harris flips through his notebook to try and avoid it.
"Thank you, Agent Gibbs." Harris clears his throat. "We're here to discuss Agent Tim McGee's assault during a recent undercover operation. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Gibbs drawls.
Harris glances over, expectant, but Gibbs gives nothing away.
"Where were you when the incident occurred?" Harris questions.
Gibbs sups his coffee before growing: "Returning from the Navy Yard."
The ensuing silence is vast and sudden. Harris blinks slowly when Gibbs doesn't continue speaking. For some reason, he is used to the flow of conversation between himself and Tony earlier. It was easy and fluid with Tony offering up exactly what Harris needed. While he hadn't expected Gibbs to be an easy interview, he believed things would be smoother than this. If this current trend continues, this interview will last until tomorrow with Harris asking leading questions and Gibbs giving bare bones answers.
"Why were you at the Navy Yard, Agent Gibbs?" Harris prods.
Gibbs makes a face like he has better things to do. "My ME thought he had more evidence for our murder. Turned out to be nothing."
Harris makes a note on his pad. When he glances back up, Gibbs watches him with the careful and practiced patience of a predator. Harris holds Gibbs' gaze, but the older man isn't going to be the one to back down. Harris rolls over and plays dead, dropping his eyes to his notepad.
"Can you explain what you were doing while Agent McGee was undercover?" Harris asks.
"Watching the back of the building."
Harris nods. "I understand that you had to step away during the job. Was it normal for you to be absent during the surveillance?"
Gibbs' face pinches in quick anger. "No, I was there the whole time."
"Except when you weren't."
When the anger deepens on Gibbs' face, Harris opts not to press. If he makes Gibbs too mad, he'll likely lose his opportunity to gather information. Keeping things flowing is easier.
"Where were Agents DiNozzo and David?" Harris asks.
"Around the front with the listening device," Gibbs replies.
"Did you have access to the audio feed while you were onsite?"
Gibbs squints at Harris. "Are you asking if I wear an earwig?"
And suddenly, Harris understands why Gibbs watches the back entrance. The man is a dinosaur, unable to adapt to new technology. He might be keen to keep surveillance without any toys, but it hampers his abilities as an investigator. So, he leaves it to his younger agents because he can't admit his own shortcomings as he remains the same and life changes around him.
"That's exactly what I'm asking," Harris says.
Gibbs nods.
Harris gestures at his recording device. "For the recording, sir."
Gibbs' eyes narrow at it again. "Yes, I wore an earwig and listened to McGee when I was there."
"Thank you. Did you have access to the conversation that Agents DiNozzo and David had in the car?"
Gibbs shakes his head. "No."
At that, Harris frowns. "Let's get back to the day of the assault. You were offsite when the assault occurred and when you returned, what had transpired?"
If Gibbs feels anything about an injured subordinate, he gives nothing away. Harris takes copious notes about the lack of emotion. Maybe there's something there.
"McGee was already gone," Gibbs says, emotionless. "DiNozzo was clearing the scene."
Harris leans forward. "And Agent David?"
Gibbs' lips curl into a sneer. "Putting out a BOLO for the suspects and McGee."
"Didn't know Agent McGee has been located?"
"No, she didn't. DiNozzo ordered her to search for McGee." Crossing his arms, Gibbs sets his jaw. "Instead, she chose to follow-up with Metro."
Harris returns to taking his notes. "I see. Then what happened?"
"I rendzed-voused with DiNozzo. Seeing I was back, David approached." He sighs so heavily that his shoulders rise. "After DiNozzo's report, I suspended her."
"As per protocol." When Gibbs fixes Harris with a glare, the IA agent nods. "Suspension pending the outcome of the formal investigation."
Gibbs tilts his head. "Sure, but she's off the team."
Holding his pen up, Harris opens his mouth to continue that track of questioning. Part of him wants to know why Gibbs would kick Ziva off his team without the outcome of the IA investigation, why he would prefer to end things there. Until Harris interviews Ziva David and Tim McGee, the case is far from over.
Instead, he closes his mouth. The specifics of this team's dynamics aren't his concern. If Gibbs wants to run his fiefdom like an overbearing king, let him. Only the outcome of the incidents and whether the agents should be disciplined—or even terminated—for their actions are Harris' job. Everything else is, just that, everything else.
Harris nods. "Right."
And that response earns him the tiniest, barely there flash of a smile. If Harris didn't know better, he might think that's what respect looks from Gibbs.
Gibbs rises from his seat.
"We're done," he says. Another statement, not a question.
"Not quite, Agent Gibbs," Harris says.
Gibbs just stands there, towering over Harris. His expression is bored, like their conversation already took up too much of his time.
"We have another matter to discuss," Harris tries.
No movement. "Okay."
Harris tries not to make a face. This must be what Vance tried to warn him about. The impatience and the pride and the condescension that makes Gibbs who he is, that makes him great.
"Agent DiNozzo made additional allegations against Agent David." Harris glances at his notepad, shaking his head. The current investigation was growing messy. "As well as Agent McGee."
Gibbs stares at him. "I'm aware."
"I'm trying to determine if there is any merit to the claim." Harris feels the sweat prick to his brow. "He has reason to believe Agents David and McGee turned off the listening device during his previous undercover operations. What are your thoughts about that, Agent Gibbs?"
Gibbs' head rears back, just a little. It's the only crack in his otherwise stone-like façade. Harris wonders whether the anger is from Tony talking to him or if it's because Harris knows about Gibbs' information. Vance told him that Gibbs doesn't like being blindsided, but Harris doesn't feel like this counts.
When he speaks, his voice is like thunder. "Are you asking if I trust DiNozzo?"
Harris' mouth snaps open and closed like a fish on dry land. Somehow, it feels as though the temperature of the room plunges several degrees. The hair on the back of Harris' neck stands on end. For a moment, he doesn't know if Gibbs is going to storm away or shoot him.
This is the man he's heard the rumors about, the man with the rage that could rival a mythological god.
Harris fumbles, "No, I just wanted to know what you thought about – "
"DiNozzo's my senior agent," Gibbs says as though it means everything.
Harris holds up his hand. "Agent Gibbs, I – "
"We're done," Gibbs snaps.
Suddenly, he bolts out of the conference room without looking back.
Harris sits in a stunned silence for what feels like a long time. When Gibbs didn't answer the question directly, his almost nuclear reaction is all the response that Harris needs. He thinks Ziva David and Tim McGee could've stopped listening during one of Tony DiNozzo's undercover operations.
What did I just stumble into?