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decieve-ineigle-obfuscate · 2 years

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Our Old Friend, Death: Chapter 3

Summary: Transferring to the main branch of NCIS is a big change from working on an island. While competent, Georgia Vanlow has always understood human psychology more than she's been able to work with it. But psychology and coping mechanisms aren't always enough to adjust to new situations. Especially when plans go awry, and profiling your teammates just won't get you through hell.

Warnings: Language. Small fight.

1.2K Words

OOFD Masterlist

I leaned my head back against the headrest and sighed. It was now dark. On my feet, I had been working for over twelve hours.

Only a minute in the car.

Go the fuck to bed, already.

I stepped out of the rental car and closed the door. I beeped it locked.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I became disoriented as Gibbs slammed against the wall.

He leaned into me, pressing an arm against my shoulder.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me you were CIA?" Gibbs snapped.

"You didn't ask." I wheezed.

"Bullshit! When were you going to tell me?" He snapped.

"When it became relevant, as it did," I replied, trying to move from under his arm.

"Don't pull that CIA shit with me, Vanlow." He said.

"I'm so good at it, though. Thirty years is a long time," I replied, driving my knee into Gibbs' groin.

He hit the floor before sweeping his leg under mine.

His knee was immediately placed on my chest. "I said, "don't try that CIA shit on me". I wear a cup."

I chuckled and ran my tongue over my lower lip. "Are you kneed often?"

"Back on track, Vanlow. Are you spying on us?"

I groaned. "No. I got out a year ago. Boss leaves, you leave. Rule #42."

"Don't try relating to me. I know how that works."

"If you're trying to interrogate me, my "CIA bullshit" will be pretty helpful." I snapped back.

"Have you ever been through a real interrogation? Training isn't everything."

"You're right. Training has nothing on terrorists. Step up your game." I replied.

He leaned back. "All right. There's something. Terrorists." He said, smirking. "What kind of terrorists?"

"At the end, the kind that flies planes into towers. And blow people up using their kids." I replied.

"30 years, huh? What did you do before that?" He asked.

"The Cold War was a thing, Gibbs. The majority were communists."

He leaned forward a bit.

Little more.

"If I find out you're spying on us, or if you're being honest with me. We're going to have a problem. Understand, Vanlow?" He asked.

I wheezed something out.

"What?" He asked, smirking and leaning forward.

"Pulling my CIA bullshit."

I exposed the heel of my hand, swung my hand up, and hit his jaw. Hard.

He rolled off me and held his jaw.

I knelt over him. "I'll admit. Usually, kneeing a guy works, but I have other methods of debilitating someone. Rule 36, always leave yourself an out." I said, massaging my sternum.

He groaned as I helped him into a chair.

"I got lucky. It doesn't look like I dislocated anything," I muttered.

I dug through the freezer and gave Gibbs a bag of corn.

"Try that," I said.

He nodded, working his jaw before placing the corn on.

I sat across the table from him. "I won't… ditch you guys. Okay? I only left Hawaii because I had to move closer to care for a family member. I loved the people I worked with. My boss actually encouraged me to try the office here. Rule 54, be open to new opportunities." I said, continuing to rub my sternum.

He nodded. "Why'd you leave the CIA?"

"Well, I was already going to leave in '03. Once the politics started changing a mere 2 years after 9/11, we became worried. People started getting nosy and looking into what we were doing in the Middle East. There were a lot of… accusations of human rights violations. Most people that worked with terrorists saw them as less than human. A bunch of us got out before people filed FIAs or lawsuits." I said.

"Why'd you end up leaving for good? Somehow, I get the feeling lawsuits weren't the biggest concern for you." Gibbs said.

I chuckled. "The assistant director left in an attempt to outrun some nasty charges. He didn't, but it's had some pretty nasty ramifications. A lot of them happened fast."

"Is that what's going on out there?" He asked.

"That's what Arthur thinks," I replied.

"Arthur?"

"Agents Potts. He trained me." I clarified.

"Ah. So what do you think?"

"Whoever those people pissed off has a fuck ton of issues," I said.

He chuckled. "We're being called back to DC. Are you coming with us?"

"I need to clean this up, otherwise I would. It isn't good. According to him, this is the third time Potts has found a scene like this, and they're linked." I replied.

"Well, this time there are Marines involved. I'm hoping, we won't be in DC any longer than it takes to talk the director into getting me back on the case." He said. "I'm gonna leave Cate and Tony here to keep tabs on things."

"You like getting in trouble, don't you?" I said, running my finger over a rough spot on the table like a balm.

"I like getting answers. And if that means a bit of trouble, then I'm not going to shy away, Vanlow."

I pursed my lips.

"Penny a thought?" He asked, shifting the peas a bit.

"I'm…" I trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"I dunno. I've got a bad feeling."

"What about?" He asked.

"It's nothing. Until it gets a little more specific, I'm not going to obsess over it. Rule 8, If you can’t fix something, don’t worry about it."

"Rule 40, if it feels like someone's out to get you, they usually are." He said.

I chuckled. "I have one kinda like that."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"22. You have instincts for a reason. Use them." I replied, moving my leg over my knee.

"That's good. You got a good head on your shoulders, kid."

We both looked towards the door as the handle jiggled. I reached for my sidearm. Gibbs dived over the table and grabbed my wrist.

"The fuck, Gibbs?" I hissed.

"Hold on, Vanlow." He whispered.

"Cate! Come on towards the door jamb."

"It's away from the jamb, Tony."

I groaned, and Gibbs released my hand.

The door opened, and we both sat back down.

"Why are you guys sitting in the dark with peas on Gibb's jaw?" Tony asked.

"I spooked him, coming in. He jumped me, and I swung," I replied.

"You swung on Gibbs?"

"She didn't realise it was me. We spooked each other." Gibbs replied. "Hit the hay. I've got a flight tomorrow, and I want you two to do some digging for me."

"I thought we were off the case?" Cate said.

"Incognito digging. Keep it quiet. Stay out of trouble 'till I get back. Work with Vanlow."

"Who's in charge?" Tony asked.

"Who's senior?" Gibbs asked, getting up and putting the veggies in the freezer.

"Me?" Tony said, elbowing Cate.

"There you go. Go to bed."

I retreated into the house and climbed into the shower. I washed my hair and body until the water ran clear of dirt and grime. I then walked into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around me.

Cate was brushing her hair.

"Hey, is there any hot water left?" She asked.

"Yeah," I said, pulling a pair of sweatpants on.

"What happened to your chest?" She asked, turning away from the mirror.

"As I said, Gibbs jumped me. I'm fine." I said, grabbing a shirt.

Cate came up to me, brushing her fingers over the mark.

"It's already bruising pretty bad. Try the peas." She teased.

"It's corn. And I'll be fine." I reiterated.

"Trust me, it'll be worse in the morning."

"That's what ibuprofen's for, Cate," I said, pulling the shirt over my head. "See you in the morning."

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

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decieve-ineigle-obfuscate · 2 years

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Our Old Friend, Death: Chapter 1

Warnings: Language.

1.1K words

OOFD Masterlist

Pulling into a parking spot, I put the car in part and turned it off.

I sighed and leaned back against my headrest.

You can do this. You can do this.

I shook my hands out and ran them down my face.

It's fine. It's not a big deal. It's just a new location. Same job. New place.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of the car, locking it behind me. I walked in the front door and scanned my badge.

I can't do this.

I walked to the elevator and selected the floor I'd been told. I tapped my foot and waited. The elevator then stopped, and the doors opened. On… not my floor.

A bouncy, brunette man stepped in and reached for the buttons but stopped as he saw the highlighted floor.

"Going to the bullpen, huh?"

"Yeah. I've been summoned." I said, laughing nervously.

"By whom?" He asked.

"Someone named… Gibbs? Yeah, Gibbs. I just transferred in." I replied, wringing my hands slightly.

"Ah, met him yet?"

I shook my head.

"Heard anything about him?"

"No. Not really." I said.

"Okay. Well, good luck. He's a bastard." He said, smirking and stepping out.

Great. Just what I wanted to hear.

"Caitlin!" He called. "Come meet the new girl!"

A woman looked up from her desk. "We've got a new girl? Hell yeah. Maybe I won't get stuck with you as much."

"Funny. You know you love working with me."

She moved around him and walked up to me, offering her hand. "Caitlin Todd. Former Secret Service." She said.

"Georgia Vanlow, NCIS, transferring from Pearl Harbor."

She nodded. "Nice. Well, it's good to have you here. We always need more help with Tony here."

"Hey!" He snapped, head shooting up.

His head was promptly smacked, and I flinched in sympathy.

I worked my jaw a few times, attempting to decide whether or not to say something.

"Unless you're planning on catching flies, shut your mouth. DiNozzo, pack your crap. We've got a case. Todd. Let's go."

"Am I coming?" I asked.

"Yeah, move your ass."

I pursed my lips and rushed into the elevator beside the team. "You're working with Todd today. She'll show you the ropes around here. DiNozzo, fix my phone!" He said, shoving it into his hands.

"Uh, might take me a bit?" He said.

I grabbed it, opened the back, pulled the battery out and shoved it back in. The phone rebooted and I handed it back to the boss. "Reboot it. Easy."

He looked over his shoulder at DiNozzo. "Why can't you do that? Why do you reset it every time?"

"Reset it? That's not necessary."

He pulled me over and whispered, "We usually just give him a new phone. He's really bad with tech," in my ear.

Once I moved away, he was smacked upside the head once more. "Tech expert, my ass." He huffed.

I smiled slightly and followed Caitlin out once the doors opened.

“So, I don't know about Pearl Harbor, but we don’t have a plane, so we’re going commercial.”

“We’re going commercial, great,” I said, sitting beside Caitlin in the SUV after getting my bag from my car.

“Up here,” Gibbs said.

“Me?” I asked.

“Yeah, move it.” He said.

I got out and moved up to the front, sliding the seat forward.

“Todd, how tall are you?” Gibbs asked.

“5’5”.”

“What’s your name, new girl?” He asked.

“She’s Georgia Vanlow, boss.”

“Mhmm. Thank you, new girl.”

A smack sounded and he yelped. “He’s been smacked.”

“Alright. Vanlow?”

I nodded. “5’3”, sir.”

He chuckled but said nothing more.

I pulled a pair of sunglasses from my bag and slid them off as Gibbs took off.

This man drives like a maniac.

––––––

I had no idea how we’d made it to the airport alive, or how we hadn’t been pulled over. But stumbling out of the car and lacing my fingers behind my head was all I could do to not heave.

I never want to drive with him again. Next time I’ll just trail behind him.

DiNozzo slapped my shoulder, and I gagged slightly. “Whoa! Are you good?”

“Fine, I’ll join you in a minute.” I groaned.

He chuckled and grabbed his and my bags from the back.

Caitlin came up behind me and rubbed my back. “Gibbs drives like he has nothing to live for. I’ll get some Dramamine or something for next time.”

I tried to resist chuckling as it would only make me sicker.

“Let’s go, kid!” Gibbs hollered.

I sighed. “I’m 45. I’m not a kid.”

He looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t ask. Let’s go.”

I followed Caitlin in and leaned toward her. “Do you talk about anything on the way there?” I asked.

“No. We just sleep and try to get ready.” She replied.

I nodded.

Gibbs walked up to buy the tickets last second. “Three business class tickets to Oregon.”

“Gibbs, new girl.”

He groaned. “Fo…”

“Three and one first-class. First-class ticket is separate.” I said, pulling out my card and frequent flier voucher.

Gibbs looked over at me and raised an eyebrow.

“$14.25. Your points covered the rest.” The cashier said.

I smiled and thanked her, taking my ticket and receipt.

“No getting drunk in first class.” He said.

“No problem. I don’t drink, except socially.” I replied.

––––––

The flight was amazing. Caitlin, whom I’d exchanged cell numbers with on the ride to the airport, frequently texted to complain about a particularly frustrating child she was stuck in front of. I promised to buy her lunch as soon as we got a chance. Upon leaving the plane, I bought two coffees.

I joined up with the team upon retrieving our luggage.

“One of those better be for me,” Gibbs said.

“Actually, it is. Black?” I said.

“Yep, how’d ya know?” He said, taking the offered drink.

“Had an open one on your desk. I’m very observant. Cate, I have one in the cup carrier in my bag.” I said.

She smiled and took it happily. “You’re my new favourite, today.”

I smiled and glanced at Tony.

“DiNozzo! Move your ass! Vanlow, let’s go!” Gibbs hollered.

“You knew. You knew Gibbs liked coffee. You’re manipulating him!” He whispered.

“Of course. What military man doesn’t like coffee? Did you look at his trash can? Overflowing with coffee cups. It’s not manipulation, it’s Pavlovian Conditioning. It’s conditioned learning based on instinctive responses. Gibbs likes coffee. I bring Gibbs coffee. Gibbs likes me. Boom! First impressions are important.” I said, speed-walking to catch up with the team.

“You’re in 4-inch heels! How are you going that fast!”

“Practice!” I called back over my shoulder.

Chapter 2

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