NCIS
October 19
A/N: I had this idea ages ago (back in October incidentally) but its taken me awhile to post it. I really need to get back into writing and I thought if I posted this, it might help. It's kind of short and I actually think all of the chapters will be short, at least compared to other stories I've written. Just to warn you, the big event that happens is quite dark and tragic. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I think it's quite different to what I usually write. Not so much fluffiness. Happy reading and an early Happy New Year! It's my favourite night of the year.
Summary: October 19. It's 2340 and the phones are ringing. A devastating attack on the Navy Yard brings the NCIS team together yet threatens to tear them apart.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in anyway.
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A man and a woman lay in bed asleep. They've officially been a couple for three weeks, one day, two hours and forty-seven minutes but to everybody around them, it feels like a lot longer. It's taken four years of flirting, innuendo, heartache, missed chances, wrong timing and a ridiculously grand gesture for it to happen. But ask anyone and they will tell you. No two people were ever more destined to be with each other.
The man is softly snoring, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His arm is snaked around the woman who is dreaming. She is silent but her mouth is open in a silent scream and her body is quaking in fear. Eventually she wakes herself up and she wipes her face. It is wet from tears she hadn't realised she was crying. She fumbles around in the dark for a tissue and when she can't find one, she goes to get up. The hand that was resting lightly on her hip grips it now, steadily and vice-like. She tries to pry the hand off but in doing so, she wakes him.
"You've been crying," he notes and she wonders how he can tell in the dark.
"I had another nightmare," she explains.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asks. He hands her a hanky from under his pillow (a habit passed down to him by his over-polite, etiquette-bound socialite mother) and he waits while she wipes her face and blows her nose. "Ziva, you can tell me anything you know."
"Tell you about what?" she asks. "How they would ask me questions and beat me even when I told the truth? How I slept sitting in a chair? Or how the only food I ate was under-cooked rice and burnt unleavened bread?"
"You could start by telling me about the nightmare," he suggests tentatively. This is new territory for them and the boundary lines have yet to be drawn.
"I just want to go back to sleep," she murmurs. She settles herself in the crook of his arm. One day she'll tell him that even though she never once saw darkness in her time in the desert, the first time she truly saw light was when she opened her eyes to find him sitting across from her.
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Across town a man sits typing at his typewriter as quietly as he can. There is a girl sleeping on his couch and he doesn't want to wake her. The window is open and there is a soft breeze blowing through the window. He realises the last time he was so inspired was when she was around. The last time she stayed over he wrote thirty pages in three hours. He pauses for a moment and takes in her black hair free from its pig-tails and her lips free of lipstick. She almost looks like an angel, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight and he finds himself staring. She stirs, opens her eyes and watches him blearily.
"Whatcha doing, Timmy?" she asks lazily.
"Just writing," he answers.
She nods sleepily and goes back to sleep. He mentally kicks himself later. He should have just told her that he was watching her sleep and that she is beautiful and she means the world to him because she is and she does.
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In a room that always smells of sawdust and bourbon, a man sits on a stool and stares at the ground. The 'Jenny' is gone and in her place is a pile of wood ready to be cut, carved, hammered, sanded and varnished into a boat. He thinks about how close he was to having to call her 'Ziva' and he shudders. He offered to name a boat after Abby once and after looking delighted for a split second she let loose on him. Did he think she was going to die soon? Was she in danger and she didn't know it? 'You always did know better,' she had said. Gibbs had asked her what the hell she was talking about and she shook her head and told him for such a clever man he was stupid. He grinned and repeated his question. 'You always name your boats after dead people, Gibbs,' she answered simply and his face fell. She was right. Everybody he loved inevitably died.
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Standing on the verandah of a large Victorian house, an elderly man watches headlights disappear. Tonight he''s baby-sitting three boys with the help of his protégé, a young man himself barely out of youth (at least according to Ducky) with dark hair, glasses and a knack for putting his foot in his mouth. The three young boys belong to a doctor named Hammond. Jordan Hammond, a vivacious, intelligent and loyal woman. They have become good friends, the doctor and the ME. They share tea and swap stories though inevitably the day ends with the elder doctor telling her about a long-past time that he wished he could reclaim. But the days of his youth, the glory days, the days of breaking people out of jail, the days of crossing the English Channel in a dinghy, the days of trawling through mass graves to identify people, the days of medical school and of girls in white cotton dresses are long over. Jordan always sits quietly and lets him peal off story after story long after its time for her to go. She laughs when it's required and occasionally sheds a tear or two and always pretends to ignore the sheen that sometimes covers his eyes. She always kisses him on the cheek and gives him a big hug as she's leaving and he thanks her profusely for coming. Tonight she thanked him in advance for watching the boys and sorry but she's running late so can they do tea next week? She gives him a hug and the briefest peck on the cheek and waves as she drives down the long driveway.
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It's October 19. The phones will start ringing at 2340. Tony will give Ziva more than one reason to love him. Timothy will find the nerve to tell Abby how he feels. Gibbs will find himself with a name for his new boat. Ducky will never see Jordan Hammond alive again.