Title: Clepsydra
Author: WriterKos
Rating: FR15
Parings: McGee/OFC
Characters: McGee, OC, the whole Gang from NCIS.
Genres: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, violence
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose and time is running out. All the body pieces may never be found. Do you know what hardcore profiling is? A Joy Buchanan story.

Written for the Lizzie Borden Challenge and the Casefile challenge

a/n 1: We're going back to Joy's first year working with Gibbs team. Things are a little bit shaky, and the little monster of past cases rear its ugly head for the first time. This story is set after Honor Bound but before Connecting the Dots. So Gibbs team know only Hope, no one else of the Buchanan Clan.

a/n 2: Ohhh I'm writing about an ax murderer for Lizzie Borden case. So be ready for some gore.


Clepsydra

n. pl. clep•sy•dras or clep•sy•drae
An ancient device that measured time by marking the regulated flow of water through a small opening. Also called water glass.

Chapter 1: A Visit from the Past

"God sends meat and the devil sends cooks." Thomas Deloney

Tony stretches his long legs under his desk, trying to dispel the discomfort of sitting several hours in the same position while typing his report. He uses his hand to massage the muscles on his neck, as he rolls his head around hearing the crack of the bones trying to align themselves..

"Ouch, that must have hurt," comments Ziva.

"Nah... What hurts the most is my ass, not my neck."

They were enjoying one of those brief respites between cases, in which they were submerged in paperwork. Requisition forms, casefile reports, car request forms, etc etc.

It was a bureaucracy nightmare, but that's part of working for a government agency: you have to explain every single shot fired, every expense detailed, copying your Boss, your Boss's boss, and the Boss' accountant.

Duh.

The elevator dings, and Tony takes the chance to people watch, as Gibbs is not in the bullpen, as he was visiting their illustrious Goth Caff-Pow addicted forensic scientist. McGee was doing something for the director at MTAC and Buchanan was...

"Where did Buchanan go?" Tony couldn't remember where did she go.

"She went to talk to Balboa team, she had written a profile for their latest case and they requested some explanations on it," says Ziva, not lifting her eyes from her screen.

A man walks up to Ziva's side, looking at her uncertain, before looking at the other tables as if he's searching for someone. Ziva glances at him, frowning at the strange figure he is, with his Stetson hat and sun-burnt face, his eyes almost disappearing behind the flaps on his eyes. His unshaved look hid a severe case of acne, which left his cheek full of holes that no cream on earth could fix.

His jacket had seen better days, and it must have been at some day in the past brown. Now it was just a strange dirty color due to many washings. His jeans were simply old. No other word could describe it.

On top of all that, in order to complete his attire, his alligator boots were perfectly shining, as if they were the only thing that he took a care to look after on his looks.

Tony exchanges a look with Ziva, before standing up to greet this stranger, who is now studying Tony with untrusting eyes, his mouth turned in a sour line. Tony immediately associated his glare with Clint Eastwood's glare, right before he drew his gun and shot down the bad guy in those Wild West movies.

"May I help you?"

The strange man glanced briefly at Tony, immediately dismissing him after the first seconds his eyes slid over his crispy white shirt, impeccable Zegna trousers matching his equally dashing Zegna suit and muttered, "No, kid. You ain't who I came for."

Ziva almost smiled at the crushed look on Tony's face, before approaching him,

"Maybe you could tell us who you are looking for, it would be easier for us to fetch him, Mister..." She stops, silently asking him to give her a name, any name.

She looks at the visitor's badge hanging from the lapel of his old jacket, and she asks herself why security has left such strange man up unescorted.

The man turns to glare at her, measuring her up and down, and his lips turn into a sneer, "Don't think ya can be of any help either, Missus."

Ziva glares at him, feeling her temper starting to boil, "Listen, sir, you-"

"Detective Cole."

The grouchy man turns and stares at Joy walking by the corridor towards the agents with a serious face, greeting her with a nod of his head and respectfully taking his hat from his head, twisting it in his hand.

"Agent Buchanan, I'm surprised that you still remember my name. Thanks for letting me up."

"You know him?" Tony points to the man, leaning back as if trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the surly grouch.

"Yes, DiNozzo. I know him. I'll handle it," Joy approaches the man and offers a hand to shake, which he firmly squeezes bringing a frown of pain to her face, but she doesn't let go squeezing as hard as he is. He smirks, and lets go of her hand, grinning lightly when he sees her opening and closing her hand trying to regain feeling on it.

She smiles a little self conscious, "We puked at the same crime scene. That's not something one forgets."

The man surprisingly starts to chuckle, "That's true. Good to see you alive and kicking. I have been told that you were dead."

Joy grimaces at his comment, at the same time that Gibbs arrives from his visit to Abby's Labby, and stares at the stranger with a frown, glaring from one to the other.

"Who's that?"

Gibbs immediately notices that she is not comfortable with this strange man's visit.

"This is Detective Raymond Cole, from the New Iberia Police department in Louisiana," the surly man nods, offering his hand to Gibbs, and doing the same squeezing trick with him. Gibbs just grins and squeezes back, until he notices Detective Cole twitch in pain, only then releasing his hand.

Joy tries not to grin, as she notices Cole opening and closing his hand, and looking at the smirking Gibbs with respect. "My boss, Special Agent Gibbs," she says, as a matter of introduction.

"You have a firm hand shake, Mr. Gibbs. I admire that in a man," he nods, before looking again at Joy, "or in a woman. I'm glad you're not dead, ma'am."

"Rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated. But you're very far away from your haunting grounds. What are you doing so far north?"

"Bird migration, I guess."

She smiles faintly, but it doesn't lasts, "You're not a bird..." she studies his face, noting how he studies her with the same reserve she does, "and you're not the type of man who does social calls. Why are you in DC?"

The man's face takes a very somber look, and Joy immediately tenses as she figures out why he came to the Capital.

"No."

"They've scr'w'd up, ma'am."

"No."

"I've been r'nning like a cat wit' bells on his tail, 'cause the people down in Lafayette hid from me what was happening and I've just found out when people started missing in my parish again."

"She's on death row, Cole"

"Not anymore. She's escaped."

Joy sighs out loud and turns her back to the detective, walking towards the tall windows and supporting her hands on the glass, "this is not happening this is not happening this is not happening."

"What's not happening? Who has escaped" Gibbs looks from the stranger who is staring daggers to his agent's back, and Joy, who is looking dejectedly through the window, lost in thought.

"I cann't tell ya, as..."

"He's my SAC and my direct supervisor." Joy mutters, and turns facing the detective, "he has the right to know."

"But I don't know him. And I'm not the kind of man who commits the same mistake twice. I don't trust him. So I ain't telling him an'thing 'till I'm sure you're coming back with me."

"No." Joy shakes her head, receiving an incredulous look from the detective.

"What? How can you say no? She's butchering again."

Joy bites her lower lip, glancing at Gibbs for a second before looking at Cole, "how did she escape?"

Cole spins his Stetson slowly in his hand, looking down at the agent with serious eyes, "She's a good actress. She pretended that she was dying of pain, and they decided to transfer her from Death Row to the infirmary. From there, she somehow convinced the doctor that she was almost dying, and when they were transferring her to a hospital she pulled a Houdini."

"God, I can't believe it."

"Pretty stupid, these prison folks. The worst is that they've tried to keep it under the cloth, trying to locate her without informing us, keeping us from the investigation."

Joy is silently fuming, panic and fury slowly boiling as she feels the walls closing around her, "Why weren't you informed? Why wasn't I informed of that?"

Cole shrugs, "I ain't informed 'cause is that silly Billy Rowlings that's leading the search teams, and he has hated me guts since Allie Merceux chose me 'ver him to go on a date back in '81. But they've tried to contact you, but they were told that you're dead."

"What?" Tony, Ziva and Joy say at the same time, and Cole nods, glancing at Gibbs who has folded his arms, trying to absorb the news.

"According to the FBI files they've checked, the whole LA BAU team is dead... including you, ma'am."

Joy's face becomes pale, as she realizes the enormity of the problem she has in her hands. She lifts huge round eyes to Gibbs, "They've haven't updated the files."

"No ma'am." Cole lifts his hand, and shows a thick folder with papers on it, "This is the info I could gather from the last missing people, all I could get before Billy came like a bulldog after meself, so I need you to look it over and do your thing like the last time.

Joy lowers her eyes to the offered folder, in Cole's firm hands, and she visibly shrinks, as if all the weight of the world is over her shoulders, and in no moment she makes any movement to take the file from Cole's.

"No." She finally says, her voice carrying a defeated tone.

"What?" This turn, Gibbs and Cole speak simultaneously.

"I'm sorry, but no. I'm not FBI anymore."

"But this is your thingie. You know this lunatic. She won't stop killing until someone stops her as you did the last time."

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" Cole's accent is becoming thicker, as fury starts to take control.

"You don't know what you are asking from me." Joy says in a low voice, almost in tears.

"I know exactly what I'm asking from you, ma'am. I'm asking you to do your job. These kids here, because she's going after some college kids this time, they will be dead in a few hours if you don't stop her." Cole's becoming desperate, but Joy shakes her head, impotent.

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Since when did you become chicken?" The detective shouts, getting the attention of many people in the bullpen, who turn to stare the confrontation.

"This is not NCIS jurisdiction. I'm not working on these types of cases anymore. I'm sorry you've travelled all the way here just to waste your trip. But I can't take the case."

Cole stares at her, as if he can't believe what she is speaking to him, "So you won't help me save those kids.

"I'm NCIS now. Give me a case involving the Navy and I'll gladly take it, but I can't help you with this one. It's not NCIS jurisdiction. I'm sorry."

Cole glares at Joy, disappointment shining out of his face as he studies her up and down, before turning to look at Gibbs, showing all his contempt in his eyes, "I have to say, I'm mighty disappointed. I've never thought I would see the day that you would become a bureaucrat. Just like those suckers down in Laffayette."

He puts his hat back on his head, and leaves with hard steps, carrying the folder against his chest, "I'll take my leave, ma'am."

Joy sighs and looks sadly at the detective, "Cole, I'm sorry."

The detective stops, before turning around to glare at her, "No need to say sorry to me, ma'am. Just say sorry to the parents of the kids that will be butchered by this killer, just 'cause you were too comfortable in your comfy DC office and couldn't bother to come to Louisiana with me. Say sorry to them."