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Veritas	By : Kali Category: Stargate: SG-1 > Stargate Atlantis Views: 4569 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Kali & muses do not own any of Stargate or NCIS, nor make any profit from this work; we just borrowed them for the sake of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 2
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Disclaimer: The author does not own
any of NCIS or Stargate, only borrows them for the sake of this fanfiction.� No
profit is made by the writing of this story.
Warnings: Anything one expects to
see on Stargate or NCIS, expect it here; also, slash in the form of
Jack/Daniel, and John/Rodney; het pairings include Tony/Ziva, Gibbs/Jenny.
If you dislike such things, or are
underage, do not read!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Big thanks for the beta, Rainy!!

Chapter
III

�� Alright kids, gather �round.�� General O�Neill called their little briefing
to order.� SGA-1, Daniel, and Mitchell
(called down for this meeting just moments ago), took seats around Jack�s study
and sat listening expectantly.� Daniel,
perched on the edge of Jack�s desk, handed over a file folder from behind himself
when Jack held out a hand for it.
�� Okay, so I have my people sticking their noses into every
corner of the Pentagon trying to figure out the full story, but so far they�re
coming up shorter than I�d like.� Here is
what we do know: five days ago, Jenny
Sheppard, Director of NCIS, attended the funeral of an old colleague in Los
Angeles who recently passed away.�
William Decker was a former agent, and they had worked on an op in
Europe nine years ago together with a third agent � who I have yet to learn the
identity of.�� Jack held up a photo of
Decker.� �I also haven�t discovered what
the op entailed.� All Davis could find
out was that it involved some Russian intelligence agents.
�� Now, it seems that after the funeral, instead of returning
to the hotel with her escort of NCIS agents as planned, Dir. Sheppard left to
parts unknown alone.� Her agents, though reluctant, followed orders
to enjoy their sudden free time in L.A. while the Director was off doing
whatever it was she was doing.�� Jack
lowered the folder he was reading from.�
�We don�t know why she went off alone, what she was doing, or who else
was involved.� All we do know is that
less than a day passed before Decker�s widow turned up murdered near the Santa
Monica Pier.�
�� Wait a second!� You�re
not saying Jenny�s suspected of murdering this woman?�� John sat up stiffly, angry protest colouring
his every word.� �She�d never��
�� No, Sheppard.�� Jack
snapped back, giving him a hard stare.�
�If you�d let me finish, I�d have said it�s been determined that whoever
ran those goons in that diner in the shoot-out with Dir. Sheppard was the
murderer.�
�� John lowered his gaze, chastised and grim.� �Sorry, sir.�
�� As I was saying, her agents had, by that time, become
concerned and tracked the GPS on her rental to the Pier, where they came across
the crime scene already being processed by the local LEOs.� It appears that at some point the Director
had contact with the widow and gave her the rental car.� We don�t know why, yet, either.�� Jack closed the file and handed it back to
Daniel. ��All we know after that is Jenny
Sheppard ended up in that abandoned diner in the desert north of L.A., where
she was engaged in a shoot-out with at least four � possibly five � armed
men.� Her agents tracked her cell phone
out there, only they were too late to arrive.�
When they contacted their usual supervisor, the incident was reported on
up the chain-of-command all the way to SecNav.�
�� Davis got wind of it quite by accident but reported it to
Jack when he also heard rumours of documents gone missing containing
ultra-top-secret material, and after he did a little digging he found out the
documents could possibly contain data from the programme.�� Daniel added, taking over where the older man
left off.
�� Rodney was frowning thoughtfully.� �And we don�t know what, exactly, that data
might be.�
�� No.�
�� Well, if it actually is
relevant to the Stargate programme,� Mitchell drawled, thinking aloud, �based
on the timeline, that would put it around what?�
The third year of the programme?�
�� Jack and Daniel exchanged looks.� �Sounds about right.�� Jack nodded slowly.
�� I wonder�if there are Russians involved, then it would be
data from their own programme � the one they set up with the Giza Gate they
recovered from the Pacific after you guys crashed Thor�s ship.�� Daniel mused.
�� Jack shuddered.�
�Ugh.� Let�s not dwell.�� Those damn bugs still occasionally gave him
nightmares.
�� So there is a high probability it is relevant.�� Rodney�s
fingers tapped restlessly on the arm of the sofa chair he sat on.� �Which means we really need to find out what
happened to those documents � if there ever really were any.�
�� Where do we start looking, though?�� Teyla inquired, glancing from the General, to
John, to Rodney, and back to John.� �Can
we not ask for all the information this NCIS place has?� Surely they must also want to know why their
leader was killed.�
�� Ha!� If only it were
that simple.�� Rodney scoffed.
�� Jack looked pained.�
�McKay is right about that, Ms. Emmagan.�
It should be that easy, in an ideal world, but I�m afraid that even in
the military there are politics to be dealt with.�� He met the gazes of his officers, and the
three shared silent, tacit agreement born of working for the same military branch.� �It�s going to be the Navy and Marine Corps
versus the Air Force, boys.� They�re not
going to want to lose face with us, nor are they going to look favourably on
the AF barging in on their
territory.�
�� Yes, sir.�� John and
Cam chorused � much to Rodney�s amusement.�
He gave them all an eye roll that clearly said �military!� with disdain.
�� If it�s going to be such a problem, then you�ll just have
to come up with a suitable, acceptable explanation, won�t you?�� The scientist waved aside their
concerns.� �It�s not like you can tell
them the truth.�
�� At least not until we find out whether or not those
documents really are
Gate-related.�� Daniel conceded with a
sigh.
�� Your world is a very strange place.�� Teyla observed, shaking her head in that
disapproving way she had � usually aimed at Sheppard and McKay.
�� It was the same on Sateda.�� Ronon put in, his voice startling Mitchell
because he�d almost forgotten the big warrior was even there.� �Our military units were very competitive,
even though we all fought the same enemy.�
It helped to motivate us to always improve.�
�� Yeah, that�s mostly true here, as well.�� Mitchell responded.� �Only we also have politicians and
bureaucrats involved in our military, so we end up with politics whenever things
like this happen.�
�� If it looks bad, then the Navy could lose funding from the
government, or even outside contracts for weapons and technology.�� Jack stood and paced in front of his
desk.� �But whatever.� However we go about it, Ms. Emmagan��
�� Teyla, please.�� She
insisted with a smile.
�� Jack smiled back, ��Teyla, you are correct.� We do need to get more information out of
NCIS.� I have a sneaking suspicion that
they aren�t sharing everything they know.�
Not even with SecNav.�
�� Well, regardless, we probably can�t do much until after
the funeral tomorrow, anyway.�� Daniel
hopped off Jack�s desk, grabbing the General�s arm as he passed.� �Quit that!�
You�re making me dizzy!�
�� General, I�ll return to Odyssey and contact Col. Davis.��
Mitchell stood at parade rest as he addressed his superior.� �I know a few Marines in the Pentagon myself,
so I could make some ultra-discreet inquiries, too, if you like.�
�� Jack frowned a moment, then nodded sharply.� �Do it.�
Coordinate with Davis for now, and report in tomorrow at 1200, which
should be after the funeral with plenty of time for Col. Sheppard to return
here.�
�� Yes, sir.�� Mitchell
turned to John and held out a hand.�
�Sheppard, I�m very sorry, again, for your loss.� Don�t worry.�
We�ll catch the bastard behind all this.�
�� John, still grim-faced, got up and shook Mitchell�s
hand.� �Thanks.�
�� Cam waved at the others.�
�See you all tomorrow, then.�� He
reached for his ear, contacting the ship to be beamed back aboard.� After the bright flash of light, he was gone.
�� Jack walked around his desk and pulled up a chair, reaching
for his phone.� �You all should go figure
out supper while I start figuring out a cover story.�� He glanced at Daniel as he dialled, making a
head motion toward his study doors.
�� Daniel got the hint and ushered SGA-1 out.� �Let�s go see if Jack�s kitchen is worth
raiding, shall we?� If not, we�ll find
the take-out menus.�
~*~*~*~*~
�� John spent the evening mostly silent, thinking hard on the
mission his cousin had been involved in that somehow resulted in her death by a
gun fight nine years later.� He wondered
if Jenny had known something about the Stargate programme when she went on that
mission, and if she did, was that why she�d fought so hard for him after
Afghanistan?� Certainly there�d been some familial connection behind her
efforts, but maybe she�d known something he hadn�t, and used what she knew to
manoeuvre him into milk-runs at McMurdo � where he would, sooner or later, find
out just what was going on out in the middle of the Antarctic.
�� Then again, maybe not.�
The truth was that he�d never find out now.
�� There was also the matter of those documents.� How had she come into possession of
ultra-top-secret data?� Who were these
Russians she�d been dealing with?� And
why did they wait nine years to come looking for her?� All the questions he had were becoming
increasingly frustrating, and it didn�t help that the General�s man in the
Pentagon, Colonel Paul Davis, was being equally frustrated by the stonewalling
of the entire Naval department.
�� They�re making the excuse that they can�t officially
release details until after the autopsy is done.�� O�Neill had reported at supper when he�d
finally gotten off his phone and joined them in the kitchen to eat.� �Which will be sometime late tonight, and
even then they may not say anything due to the �sensitive nature� of the
mission that she�d been involved in.� In
other words, they�re going to try to pull out the national security card to
avoid telling anyone outside the very few who already know.�
�� John was no less disgusted with the politics now than he
had been at supper.� Rodney had made him
feel just a little better at his quick, indignant � and yes, disgusted � snort.
�� Ha!� What a
crock!� We have more clearance than any
one of those idiots do!� he�d exclaimed while viciously ripping the crust off
his pizza slice.� �National security is
no excuse!�
�� John wanted to agree, but he knew better.� As did O�Neill, who promptly reminded Rodney
that their clearance, while absolute, was such that it was completely unknown
to the Navy and Marine Corps.� To them,
O�Neill and his people were just outsiders with no reason to care what went on
within Naval affairs.� The politics of
the situation would demand reading someone high on the command structure into
the programme in order to prove their interest was legitimate and necessary.
�� As much as John wanted his answers, he wasn�t willing to
put the programme at such risk by telling someone who really didn�t need to know all about the Gate, and the
galaxy, and Atlantis�
�� The morning had dawned grey and damp. �It wasn�t raining � yet � but there was a
heavy mist over everything at 0700 when John (and Ronon) went out for a
run.� When they got back an hour and a
half later, the General was up and in his study on the phone again.� Teyla was in the kitchen with Daniel,
learning all about the many modern conveniences that were appliances as they
made breakfast.� Rodney was apparently
still asleep.
�� John accepted a mug of fresh, hot coffee from Teyla for
himself, and a second for their slumbering scientist.� �Thanks, Teyla.� At least I have this as a distraction when I
wake him up.�
�� Teyla laughed lightly.�
�I did think of that, myself.� Go
on, John.� Breakfast should be ready��
�� Very soon.�� Daniel
supplied from the stove where he was cracking eggs into a skillet.
�� I might grab a quick shower.�� John said, heading for the door.� �If there�s time.�
�� There is.�� Daniel
waved a spatula at him.� �If you�re
quick.�
�� On his way past the General�s study to the stairs, John was
called into Jack�s office.
�� Yes, sir?�� John came
into the room warily, feeling a tad uncomfortable being way out of uniform (so
to speak) with a mug of coffee in either hand before his Superior Officer.
�� Relax, Sheppard.�
It�s too damn early to be so formal.��
Jack huffed, fidgeting with a pen.�
�And in my house, damn it!�
�� I�ll try, sir.��
John had to concentrate but he managed to force some of his muscles to
release their tension.
�� I just got off the phone with Arlington National
Cemetery.� It seems that between the
efforts of myself and a Special Agent Gibbs at NCIS, SecNav was persuaded to
have Ms. Sheppard buried with a standard military service at Arlington, rather
than at a civilian cemetery as had been originally planned.�� Jack informed him with a slight smile.� �I have to say I kinda
want to meet this Gibbs fellow, as we seem to be of like minds.� Apparently we presented similar cases to
SecNav.�
�� John�s eyes widened.�
�Really, sir?�
That�s�amazing.� I don�t know what
to say�� He hadn�t imagined they�d be
willing to give her that honour � especially not after this �mission� she�d
fouled up.� �How?� I mean, what did you�?�
�� Jack�s face softened and he leaned back in his chair.� �We both made our case on the basis of family
connections, rather than as a civilian of a federal law enforcement agency.� This Gibbs guy apparently knew her father was
an Army officer who is buried there, and in my case, I pointed out that her
surviving next of kin is Air Force and a hero in his own right.�� Jack winked and grinned broadly at John�s
flush of embarrassment and headshake of denial.�
�They had to take my word on that since your file is very classified,
but then, my word seems to have some weight in this town with the right
people.�
�� I�thank you, General.�
She would be so honoured by this.��
John swallowed hard, trying not to let emotion choke him up.� Then he frowned a bit.� �They do know my uncle was being investigated
for arms dealing before he died, don�t they?�
�� Jack shrugged.�
�Probably.� Doesn�t matter,
though.� They never charged him then or
after, so he was buried clean and free.�
�� Right.�� John
blinked and stared down at the coffee.�
�Um, was that all, sir?� I should
get this upstairs to wake up Rodney before it gets cold.�� He really needed to get in that shower where
he could be alone for a time to contemplate and prepare for the day.� And to get his emotions under control.
�� Yep.� Go on,
Sheppard.� Heaven forbid we deprive one
of our geeks of their morning caffeine fix.��
Jack shuddered visibly � and entirely jokingly.� John wondered if it was due to experience
with not one but two �geeks� on his team (Daniel and Sam Carter), but didn�t
ask.� He just nodded his agreement
fervently (Rodney sans caffeine was on par with a Wraith Queen in terms of
scary) and made a quick exit.
~*~*~*~*~
�� The ride to Arlington was short and smooth, with little
traffic impeding their journey.� They
were in an SUV issued by General O�Neill from the USAF fleet out of Boling
(because it was closer than Andrews) � a nice, non-government-looking Jeep
Liberty in, appropriately, USAF blue.�
Daniel was driving, and was attending the funeral on behalf of the
programme � and as a sympathetic friend.�
The General opted to remain at home, in case more information came
through, though he said he�d have been honoured to accompany John and stand by
him, otherwise.
�� John was only half glad he hadn�t come along.� Part of him wanted O�Neill to be there so
everyone � including Jenny, wherever she was � could see he�d finally merited
some credit with worthy men, that he was worth the effort.
�� Of course there were a few people John was very glad weren�t going to be
there.� Like his brother.� Their relationship hadn�t been repaired
enough for John to have the strength to have to deal with David Sheppard at the
moment, so he was relieved Dave had emailed him back that morning sending
regards but unable to get away from his own life for the funeral.� The other person John was even more grateful
not to have to see was his ex, Nancy.�
She, thankfully, was somewhere in Europe.� In her case, there were far too many reasons
for John not to want her there � number one being Rodney McKay.� Because even if he and Rodney were no more
than friends, however close, he had no wish to rub his ex in the man�s
face.� Or to rub Teyla in his ex�s
face.� Even if there was nothing of the
kind between them, a beautiful woman like Teyla in John�s general vicinity
would drive Nancy crazy.� It was a drama
he did not need (and that went double
for Rodney�because it would hurt more).
�� Teyla sat up front with Daniel, listening intently to his
explanation about wearing black to funerals and why.� It was a peculiarity of their world she�d
noticed and had wondered at, but never found someone to ask about it.� The scholar was wearing his anthropologist
cap as he explained about the tradition and symbolism, and about dyes and
fabrics and how expensive colour was in the past. John listened, too, with half
an ear because he didn�t know about any of what Daniel was saying, either � not
that he�d ever really thought about it.�
At the end, Teyla shook her head, saying she understood the explanation
but found the lack of celebration of life rather sad and even more depressing
than it already was.
�� My people are surrounded with death every moment of our
lives,� she added, more thoughtfully than anything else, �and so when one of us
dies a natural death � which is nearly any way outside of a Wraith to us � we
celebrate and have a great ceremony filled with colour and song to honour the
departed one.�� She looked very sad for a
moment, and John realized she was likely thinking of the old woman who�d raised
her, Charin, who died just before they�d left the
planet Atlantis had slumbered on for 10,000 years under the threat of the Asuran beam weapon.
�� That does influence the customs of a people.�� Daniel agreed.� �Someday you�ll have to tell me about it in
more detail.�
�� Certainly.�� Teyla
smiled, obviously enjoying speaking to someone so interested in learning her
customs and traditions.� Both John and
Rodney glanced at each other guiltily at that, both feeling that they � as
Teyla�s friends and team � should probably have shown more interest themselves.
�� Neither dared glance back at Ronon, sitting behind them,
for the same reason, as they hadn�t really asked after Sateda, either.
�� Arriving at Arlington, Daniel drove slowly through the
massive cemetery following the directions Jack had given him.� They passed by other services taking place
(there were typically several occurring daily here), and by the fields of white
headstones marking the resting places of thousands and thousands of Americans
who�d served and died for their nation.�
John stared out the window at them, swallowing hard, and wondered if �
someday � he would end up here.�
Truthfully, he hoped not. He�d rather be cremated and have his ashes
ejected into space in Pegasus � or wherever Atlantis was when he died.� Because that was home, now.
�� When they found the place where Jenny�s funeral was, they
were directed by helpful Arlington staff where to park, and to please speak to
the priest who was waiting for the hearse to arrive, with six Marine and Naval
honour guards that would act as pall-bearers.�
Daniel parked, and though John would rather just go and get it over with
without talking to anyone, he pulled on his military training and did his best
to be calm and polite as they walked en masse to the priest.
�� Col. Sheppard, welcome.��
The young man, who was a smartly dressed priest, offered a hand, which
John shook after putting on his hat and sunglasses (despite the dreary, damp
day).� �Father Larry Clannon.� I�m very glad you were able to attend,
Colonel.� I understand the Director was
your cousin, and until I was told you were coming I was saddened that she would
be laid to rest without family to see her off.�
�� John shook his head. ��She wouldn�t have been.� NCIS was her family more than our own blood
ever was.�� He stated softly, but
indifferently.� He was, after all, all
too used to his relatives� disdain.
�� The priest hesitated, seeming to wonder if he�d said the
wrong thing, but changed the subject smoothly.�
�As her attending next of kin, you will be presented the flag during the
service, but was there anything else you would wish to request?� Any words you would like to say yourself or
perhaps a particular prayer?�
�� John hid a shudder, feeling what blood was in his head
drain right down to his toes.� �No,
sir.� But thanks anyway.� Jenny and I have never been particularly
religious.�
�� That�s fine, Colonel.�
I apologize for asking, it�s just that the arrangements were made on
such short notice and I was only informed of your arrival this morning.�
�� Whatever was already arranged will be�more than she ever
would have expected, so no problem.��
John�s voice caught, but Father Clannon
studiously ignored it, nodding and shaking his hand again.
�� Then that�s how it will be, Colonel.�� He glanced over as one of the staff waved at
him and pointed out the on-coming procession.�
�Ah, here comes the hearse and the NCIS personnel, now.� Colonel Sheppard, on behalf of the Naval
Department, we are very sorry for your loss, and we are honoured to be allowed
to send Jenny Sheppard off to God�s care.��
The priest said.� Behind him, the
three Marines and three Sailors snapped to attention and saluted John smartly.
�� Stifling a sigh, John returned the salute and managed,
�Thank you,� then walked stiffly past toward the small crowd of attendees at
the graveside.� The group stood on the
opposite side of the grave, where they could watch the procession when the
hearse arrived.� His team arranged
themselves around him, surrounding him, which he was grateful for because it
blocked the curious stares and strange looks from the other mourners.� It was also oddly grounding and comforting,
even though John knew they always had his six.�
Teyla was on his right, with Daniel next to her and slightly behind, and
Rodney was on his left.� Ronon�s big,
imposing, solid presence was right behind John, and the officer wished he could
find the amusement in the picture they probably presented, mismatched as they
all were.
�� Wishing they were anywhere but here, John watched the
procession of cars pull up.
~*~*~*~*~
Earlier�

�� Gibbs was up at 0700, promptly, without the use of an alarm
clock.� After so many years of being on a
schedule (from being a Marine to NCIS), his internal clock was permanently set
and worked just as well as any Swiss timepiece.�
On the other hand, age seemed to be catching up with him more and more
each year, as he found it harder and harder to just wake up and be immediately
alert.� Especially on mornings like this
after a very, very late night � usually due to a case he was working � where he
got only a few hours of restful sleep.
�� Still, he got himself out of bed, used the washroom, and
headed for the kitchen and his first cup of coffee of the day.
�� On the way, he paused to check on Tony (still zonked right
out), deciding to let the poor kid (okay, 39 going on 40 wasn�t a �kid�
anymore, but it still felt like it!) get what precious sleep he could.� After adjusting the blanket over Tony again,
Gibbs got his coffee and took it and his cell phone downstairs to the basement
where he could talk about disturbing Tony.
�� His first call was to his new boss, the newly minted Director Leon Vance.� As he�d suspected, the man was already at
NCIS setting up shop and taking stock of the agency�s state of affairs as Jenny
had left them.� Even though Gibbs knew
Vance, had worked with him a couple of times before long ago in the past, their
conversation was short, to the point, and vaguely stand-offish � on both men�s
sides; Vance, because he and everyone else (including SecNav) knew that if
Gibbs ever wanted out of the field but to still remain at NCIS, he would most
certainly be the one occupying the Director�s office and position in the blink
of an eye.� The only things keeping Gibbs
out of that office was the fact that a) he hated paperwork and was no
bureaucrat, b) didn�t like playing politics even if he did have the forked
silver tongue to do it, and c) he loved the job he already had as a field
investigator.� Then, too, Vance was wary
of anything Gibbs might have been up to at the behest of Jenny Sheppard, who
had died after making a habit of using her position for personal issues and
motives.� He didn�t know the extent of
Gibbs� (or any of his team, for that matter) involvement.
�� Gibbs, on the other side of things, was still a tad pissed
off that Vance had immediately stuck his nose in when notified of Jenny�s death
(not to mention hadn�t allowed DiNozzo or Ziva to call Gibbs and tell him Vance
was there), and how he had been suspicious and even condescending of both Jenny
and Gibbs.� And the way he�d just mowed right over Gibbs�
authority and assumed a level of authority for himself that wasn�t officially
his yet didn�t help.� Still, Gibbs
understood what Leon had been brought in by SecNav to do, and why, and he was
working on getting over it.� Of course,
if he ever thought Vance was wrong or making a mistake, he wouldn�t hesitate to
say so � to the man�s face.
�� Which is one of many reasons Gibbs didn�t do politics
unless absolutely necessary.� He is just
too blunt and honest about everything.
�� The call consisted of letting Vance know the funeral
arrangements were made and the when and where of the service, as well as being
informed (in return) that Vance wouldn�t be able to go because he was being
briefed all morning in MTAC by various people concerning various operations
that he, as Director, would now be involved in.�
Also, Vance passed along condolences from SecNav � who wouldn�t be
attending either, because he could not condone Jenny�s actions in any way, and
attending her funeral was tantamount to showing approval of her decision to go
cowgirl and die in a shoot-out.
�� Politics, again.� Oh,
how Gibbs loathed it.
�� At least he and his team didn�t have to come in until it was
time to escort Jenny�s body to Arlington for the service at 1130 hours.
�� That gave him time to make another call, this time to Ziva
David, a Mossad Officer whom Jenny assigned to Gibbs� team as a liaison after
the mess with her half-brother, Ari Aswari, and how
he�d turned traitor and also killed Kaitlin Todd, one of Gibbs� team
members.� Once Gibbs had proven to Ziva
(Ari�s Mossad handler) that Ari was a murdering bastard as well as a traitor,
it had been Ziva who�d shot and killed her own brother right there in Gibbs�
basement on the day of Kate�s funeral.�
For that, Ziva had decided not to return home to Israel in case of
reprisals from her father, Eli David � the Director of Mossad � and Jenny (who
was a friend of sorts to Ziva) arranged for the liaison position to allow her
to remain in the relative safety of the USA and the care of NCIS,
specifically.� Though her beginnings with
the team had been somewhat rocky, she�d fit herself in quite well, and while
she wouldn�t � couldn�t � replace
Kate, she had etched out her own place among them.� Ziva had become as much theirs, as much family, as Kate had been.
�� This was another reason Gibbs was concerned for Ziva.� She�d become so much a part of the team, and
now with Jenny gone, there was no guarantee she would be allowed to remain � by
either Eli David�s decree or Leon
Vance�s.� Gibbs wasn�t sure if Tony,
McGee, Ducky, or Abby realized that yet, but he was positive it would have
occurred to Ziva by now.� So he called
her and told her to get her butt to his basement ASAP when she answered her
phone sounding exhausted and�hollow.
�� While he waited for Ziva to show up, Gibbs refilled his
coffee and made another pot, contemplating the situation and Ziva herself.� All his agents were and are like his very own
children.� Tony was the prodigal oldest
son, doing his best to learn everything he could in order to someday take over
the �family business,� so to speak � even if he did it with his very own
DiNozzo flair.� Kate had been like the
grown-up, oldest daughter, a strong young woman fully capable of dealing with
life on her own and not putting up with any sort of patriarchal protectiveness
Gibbs tended to display toward his agents.�
She still respected him, but she stood up to him when required and
didn�t let him get away with treating her as less than an equal adult.� She and Tony, on the other hand, had
squabbled like teenaged siblings on a regular basis � and worked together to
torment Timothy McGee, the newest �Probie� of the
team and �youngest son,� like older siblings tend to do to their younger ones.
�� Well, brothers, anyway, because they all adored and protected Abigail Sciuto,
NCIS� lab tech, and whom Gibbs considered his youngest daughter and always
had.� Abby was their little sister and no
one messed with her, even if � with her Goth appearance and quirky personality
� she was a capable young woman in strength of character and knowledge.� And with Dr. Donald Mallard, affectionately
known as �Ducky,� rounding out their odd little family as the eccentric and wise
older uncle, always willing to listen, and always ready with sage advice for
any occasion, it was little wonder that they worked so well with each other,
nor that it had been difficult for Ziva to carve out a space for herself among
them.
�� She did, however.�
And now, she was very much like another daughter to Gibbs.� Unlike Kate, though, or Abby, Ziva
was�broken.� Lost.� While Kate had been street smart and pure,
and where Abby was worldly yet innocent (and even a little na�ve), Ziva was a
black-sheep of sorts � rough, hard, and beaten down by the world. She�d been
raised with death, war, and fanaticism all around her.� Her own father raised not a daughter but a
tool � a weapon � efficient, swift, and soulless.� And although Gibbs would have preferred to believe
Ziva had killed Ari to save Gibbs and end Ari�s murder and terror spree out of
some true sense of right and wrong, he somehow knew it had been done on Eli
David�s order: kill her brother (another of his tools that had gone rogue and
betrayed him) to earn Gibbs� trust (and thus NCIS� trust) and to eliminate the
threat to Mossad that Ari had become.�
Still, whatever the reason, Ziva still became a very important person to
Gibbs.
�� Also unlike Kate, Ziva�s relationships with the rest of the
team were less sibling rivalry � sibling anything, really � and more like the
cousin one only sees a couple times a year.�
Well, in Abby and McGee�s case, at least.� Abby had taken the longest to warm to Ziva�s
presence, but now she welcomed the Mossad officer and was fiercely protective
of her.� McGee had a great deal of awe
and respect for her, and he got along very well with Ziva.� Probably because she didn�t engage in teasing
him or pulling pranks on him like DiNozzo (and Kate) regularly did (and still
do, even if Tony now considered the Probie to be his
partner as Kate had been).� Rather than
helping DiNozzo torture McGee, Ziva was more of a Mother-cum-diplomat, sticking
up for their young tech-wizard and turning things around on Tony instead, which
usually effectively ended any of the man�s antics neatly.
�� In Tony�s case (and here Gibbs stuck his head around the
corner to check on DiNozzo when he heard a car door slam outside), where he and
Kate had the adolescent bickering thing going on and Tony often made comments
and teased the conservatively Catholic Kate about anything involving sex, Gibbs
had never believed the two would ever really end up in that kind of
relationship.� But Tony and Ziva�� Gibbs sighed to himself as the woman in
question walked in without knocking (probably believing he was in the basement,
and Gibbs never locked his door anyway), and raised a finger to his lips when
she spotted him to warn her to keep quiet.�
Motioning her to follow him, he turned and went to pour them both fresh
mugs of coffee.� He handed one to her and
led her downstairs.
�� I did not realize Tony was here.�� Was the first thing she said.� �Is he well?�
�� Gibbs shrugged.� �He
will be.� Eventually.� I straightened him out on a few things.�� He watched Ziva carefully as she walked to
his work tables and restlessly picked up tools to study them and play with
them, unable to really look at Gibbs directly for any length of time.� It was uncharacteristic of her, and Gibbs
wondered when he�d been made the one who was supposed to �fix� everyone.� So far, the only one in his team he hadn�t
had to �fix� yet was McGee.
�� Ziva, still not looking at Gibbs, nodded in a vaguely
relieved way.� �Good.� That is good.�
He would not listen to me when I insisted it was not his fault.�
�� Yeah, well, DiNozzo is a thick-headed son of a bitch
sometimes.� Especially when he�s feeling
guilty over something.�� Gibbs raised an
eyebrow at her, even if she didn�t see it.�
�He�s not the only one.�
�� He should not blame himself for Jenny�s death.� He had every reason to be cautious about
getting involved in her personal business again.�� Ziva said strangely, as if she hadn�t heard
Gibbs.� �I must make it up to him for
being less than�understanding of that at the time.�
�� Ziva.�� Gibbs set
down his cup and reached out, turning her to face him and settling his hands on
her shoulders.� �You know he doesn�t
blame you, either.� None of us do.�� He tipped her chin up gently with a finger,
staring into her dark, haunted eyes solidly, but kindly.� �Tony isn�t the only one blaming himself, and
if what you�ve tried to tell him is true, then it�s true for you as well.�
�� She shook her head, mouth thinning tightly in denial.� �No.� I
knew immediately something was wrong at the funeral.� I should not have let her go off alone like
that.� It was my duty to protect her, she
was my responsibility and I��
�� You followed her orders, exactly as you should have.� When you discovered there really was a
problem, you did everything you could to find her and get there to assist
her.�� Gibbs tightened his grip and gave
her a small shake.� �You are not to blame
for the decisions another person makes.�
Do you hear me?�
�� Ziva�s eyes were wide, and watering up, and her face just
crumpled under Gibbs� stern, yet compassionate, stare.� �She was my friend, Gibbs!� The first
true friend I have ever had.� And I let
her walk into a firefight alone and unprepared!�
�� Gibbs nodded as he pulled her into his arms.� �Don�t bury it, Ziva.� Let it go.��
He would repeat himself after she�d cried herself free of her grief,
when she�d be more willing to listen to him.�
Ziva clung to him after a moment where she stood so tensely in his arms
she vibrated with it, and she cried, deeply and for a long while.� Gibbs imagined she had a great deal of grief
piled up inside her heart, not all of it because of Jenny Sheppard.� She even pounded on his chest a few times
with her fist in anger, but Gibbs took it (figuring he�d have bruises later but
not caring much) and simply held her and let her cry.
�� When the sobs had subsided into quiet weeping, Gibbs
finally raised his gaze to look up at the door of the basement, giving Tony a
nod of acknowledgement.� The younger
agent nodded back and waved a little, pausing and looking down at Ziva for a
moment, then leaving.� Gibbs smiled to
himself before turning his attention back to Ziva.
�� Yes.� Tony and Ziva
definitely had the potential to be a whole lot more than colleagues or
friends.� Gibbs just hoped they figured
it out sooner rather than later, despite the complications he knew (from
personal experience) came with a relationship between two people who worked
together.� Love was love, after all, and
as a man with three ex-wives � all of whom he�d married because he was trying
to replace his first, beloved wife, Shannon � he figured he should know.
�� Ziva finally stirred, the tears having run out and her
emotions having run their course, and Gibbs let her pull away to rub at her
exhausted eyes and wipe away the dampness of her face.� There were two distinctly red spots on her
cheeks (the only spots of colour on her otherwise pale face) from
embarrassment, and she laughed self-consciously at herself.
�� Well.� I feel very
stupid, now.�� She said.� �I, uh�sorry for getting your shirt all�� she
waved in the general direction of his chest.
�� Feel any better?��
He asked, ignoring the apology.�
�I really think you needed that.�
�� Ziva shrugged, a jerky, tentative movement that spoke of
just how raw she was right now.� How
vulnerable.� Gibbs sighed.� He hadn�t really expected it to be all better after just that.� But it was a start.
�� And do I have to repeat myself, or is what I said finally
penetrating?�
�� Her eyes slid up to meet his, before looking away
again.� �I heard.� I get it, Gibbs.� I do, it�s just�I need time.�
�� Ah, Ziva.�� Gibbs
brushed some of her hair from her face.�
�I�m not saying don�t grieve.�
Just the opposite, in fact.� I�m
only telling you to stop blaming yourself.��
He raised an eyebrow at her.�
�Don�t make me smack you.�
�� That got a small smile, and with it, Gibbs knew she�d be fine.� Eventually.
�� Okay.� Go home, eat
something, get ready, and I�ll see you back at NCIS, alright?�� Gibbs stepped away from her and tilted his
head toward the stairs.
�� Yes, Gibbs.�� Ziva
automatically replied, willingly obeying the command in his tone almost
unconsciously.� She paused at the top of
the stairs and looked back down at him over the railing.� �Gibbs?�
�� Yeah?�
�� She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head
and waved.� �Never mind.� I will see you later.�� She finally said, leaving him alone and only
slightly perplexed.
�� Shrugging, Gibbs heaved a relieved sigh and headed upstairs
himself to get ready for what was likely to be a long day.
~*~*~*~*~
�� Ducky was already waiting with the hearse outside the NCIS
building, leaning against the side of his vintage Morgan he�d restored
himself.� Abby, in all her funeral-Goth
glory, stood next to him with her equally vintage Victorian, black lace parasol
resting on one shoulder as she waited for her NCIS family to arrive.
�� Gibbs, after leaving his own car in the parking lot and
signing out one of the agency cars, pulled up behind Ducky�s Morgan and got out
to join them.
�� Jethro.�� Ducky
greeted him solemnly.� �I would offer you
a �good morning,� but it somehow seems�the wrong occasion.�
�� Ah, Duck, that�s definitely the wrong attitude for the
occasion.�� Gibbs returned, clasping his
old friend on the shoulder.� �Jenny would
demand we have a good morning, because we�re all here to enjoy it.�� Their eyes met briefly, knowledge passing
silently between them about Jenny Sheppard that only they had known.� �Besides, knowing Jen, she�d come back and
haunt us if she thought we were all maudlin or something over her.�
�� Ducky chuckled lightly.�
�Quite right, Jethro.� Well in
that case, good morning!�
�� Good morning, Ducky.�
�� Abby slipped right up next to Gibbs and cuddled into his
side when he obligingly curled an arm around her in a half-hug.� �Good morning, Abs.�� He greeted her softly, noting the sorrow in
her expression.� She was taking this
hard, not unexpectedly after she�d bonded with Jenny to the extent she had.
�� Good morning, Gibbs.��
She replied sadly, but still gamely after what he�d just said to
Ducky.� She rested her head on his
shoulder and sniffed.� �I really don�t
like this, Gibbs.� There�s been too many
funerals lately.�
�� He sighed and turned his head to plant a kiss on her head
where it wasn�t covered by her hat.� �I
know, Abs.�� There wasn�t much else he
could say or do, so he just let her lean on him for a while.
�� Here comes Timothy, now.��
Ducky announced suddenly, straightening himself and nodding.� �Ah, and there are Ziva and Tony, also.�
�� Gibbs dropped his arm from around Abby after a final
squeeze of comfort and turned to face his team.�
He studied them as they hurried toward their boss, noting that both Ziva
and Tony looked much better than they had a few hours ago (if a little pale and
in need of about a week of sleep, straight), so Gibbs let that worry fall away
readily.� McGee looked tired, too, but
then they all were so it was only to be expected.� Still he was probably the only one of them
who was truly alert enough for work � which would inevitably be waiting for
them after the service.
�� Listen up.�� He
barked, taking charge.� �Abby can ride
with Ducky, and you three are with me.��
Nods all around.� Gibbs motioned
to the driver of the hearse (a young man in a suit who was on staff at
Arlington and who came with the hearse as provided by the cemetery in Jenny�s
funeral arrangements).� �You, follow Dr.
Mallard�s car and we�ll be on your six.�
Understood?�� The military term
was unconscious, but luckily the kid understood � a good thing for someone
working at a facility dealing with the military.� He nodded and said, �Yes, sir, Agent Gibbs!�
before returning to the hearse.
�� After that, the procession across the Potomac River from
the Naval Yard to Arlington was a silent, easy one with � thankfully- little
traffic congestion to block them.� Of
course it helped that most people in D.C. were used to funeral processions and
were respectful enough to yield the right of way and let them by.
�� When they got there, they were directed to the appropriate
place, where Gibbs could see a small crowd of mourners already gathered near
the open grave, waiting.� The procession
pulled to a stop near the priest and honour guard, and the NCIS team piled out
of the cars.� Gibbs met the priest
briefly, thanking him and the six men and women of the honour guard for taking
the time to do this for their deceased Director.� Gibbs had asked the man personally to perform
the service.� While Gibbs wasn�t much of
a church-goer, he believed there was a higher power somewhere out there.� And though he didn�t know the man well, he�d
respected his devotion to his chosen career after working a case that the
priest (who was in fact a Catholic priest) was associated with.� Actually, it had been Kate who had gotten to
know the man, but he was pleased Gibbs had asked him to be the one to give the
service for Jenny � just as he had for Kate only a few years ago.� At the time, Jenny was new to the Director�s
office, having only been on the job for a few weeks before Kate was
killed.� The young priest wasn�t actually
enlisted or an officer, but his parish was
a Naval/Marine base, so he was quite familiar with military funerals.
�� Ducky fell into step beside him as they walked to the
grave, DiNozzo and Ziva behind them, and McGee and Abby bringing up the
rear.� From their place at the graveside,
they all watched the honour guard remove Jenny�s casket and slowly march it to
the grave as a bagpiper played Amazing
Grace.
�� The flag covering the casket wasn�t a surprise, but after
the formal folding of it, the surprise came when it was presented to a man � a
Lieutenant Colonel, Gibbs saw � in USAF dress uniform whom Gibbs had not seen before.� A slight nudge from DiNozzo drew his
attention away, and when Tony mouthed, �Know him?� Gibbs shrugged minutely and
shook his head in the negative.� The
senior agent had to firmly hold back a smile when he caught both McGee and Ziva
taking surreptitious pictures with their cell phones of the USAF officer and
the people who were standing closest to him.�
Yes, his team were investigators to the marrow of their bones.
�� In fact, there were three of the four who were standing
very closely to the Lt. Colonel.� Gibbs
watched covertly, seeing how obviously upset the officer was, and how, when the
priest began to speak, the three surrounding him moved in almost
protectively.� The woman reached for his
hand and gripped it tightly, while the man with the receding hairline raised a
hand of his own to rest it on the officer�s shoulder, leaving it there in
support.� The big man behind them dropped
an equally large hand of his own on the officer�s other shoulder and proceeded
to glare at anyone who looked at the group, as if daring them to say anything
about the officer�s grief.� It was odd �
touching, but odd � and almost amusing.
�� The forth man, in glasses and an expensive suit, the one
hovering on the other side of the woman, didn�t get as close as the others but
remained in close enough proximity that he was obviously one of their
number.� They were all an oddly
mismatched group, and Gibbs felt a rare streak of curiosity and interest in
them beyond the surface questions of identity and how the officer was related
to Jenny.� He must be, to be given the
flag from her casket.� Gibbs stared hard
at the man, trying to discern any familial likeness, because Jenny had never
mentioned any other family members than her father to Gibbs.
�� If the man noticed the agent�s stare, he didn�t react �
though the dark look from the man beside him was blatantly unfriendly.
�� At the end of the service, after the casket had been
lowered into the grave, the mourners moved forward to pay their last respects,
one by one.� Gibbs and his people stood
off to the side, away from the grave to await their turn at the end.� As they watched, taking note of who seemed to
be genuinely grieving and who was only there as more of a political courtesy
than any sense of loss or even respect for Jenny, DiNozzo stood next to him and
asked, �What do we do, boss?� Try and
find out who the flyboy and his entourage are?�
�� Ducky, on Gibbs other side, frowned and leaned around Gibbs
to look at Tony.� �Why would you ever
wish to do that, Tony?� He hasn�t
committed a crime by being here.�� The M.E.
glanced over at where the officer was, looking visibly shaken and saying
something emphatically to his friends.�
�He is obviously a relative who seems to have been quite close to Jenny,
judging by the emotional reactions he has exhibited � despite all his training
as an officer of the military.� He is
genuinely distraught, Jethro.�� Ducky
said to Gibbs pointedly.
�� Well if you want to know, why don�t you just go over
there, offer your condolences, and ask him?��
Abby rolled her eyes, preparing to do just that.� �Honestly!�
You�re all supposed to be agents,
aren�t you?�
�� I�ll do it, boss.��
McGee volunteered, stepping out from around Ziva and Abby to do so, but
stopped when Tony suddenly said, �Uh, boss?�
He�s leaving.�
�� Gibbs watched the Lt. Colonel and three of his people
moving very quickly away from the gravesite, the big man and the woman acting
more like bodyguards than anything else, while the unfriendly one followed
along behind.� They all piled into an SUV
with darkened windows, but didn�t drive off.�
Gibbs looked back over to see the last of their group � the one in the
expensive suit and glasses � standing next to the priest and speaking with the
mourners who stopped to offer condolences (and no doubt ask who the officer
was).
�� A spokesperson for the next of kin?�� Ziva speculated quietly.
�� Geez, the guy�s even got a PR guy? �The Air Force must really like this flyboy to
spring for that.�� Tony scoffed.� He was, however, correct in his own DiNozzo
way.� Gibbs� gut was saying the same sort
of thing; that whoever this Lt. Colonel was, he was important and into
something that warranted a great deal of special treatment.� Except for one thing, he agreed with Tony�s
off-the-wall assessment.
�� If that guy was a spokesperson for the USAF, DiNozzo, he�d
be in a uniform.� He�s a civilian.�
�� Oh.� Good point.�
�� Gibbs straightened and glanced at his people, coming to a
decision.� �Out of curiosity, we�re going
to check this out.� Abby, Ducky, if you
would,� he added, mostly toward Ducky who was looking a tad disapproving.� �Go over and offer our own condolences, and
try to find out as much as you can from the PR guy.�� As an after-thought, Gibbs added, �McGee,
stay with them and go back to HQ with them, then start running those people to
see what comes up.�
�� On it, boss!�� McGee
nodded.
�� Ziva and DiNozzo are with me.� We�ll tail them a bit, see where they go.�
�� Jethro,� Ducky sighed, �Why are you investigating
this?� Really, it�s no business of yours
� ours � who the young man is or what
he does.�� Ducky was studying Gibbs
searchingly, and when the light bulb went off, he sighed again.� �Ah.� I
see.� Your gut is telling you there�s
something more?�
�� Yeah, Duck.� Jen
never mentioned having any other family: certainly none she was close to, not
and to be as upset as that guy is.� And
there�s just something not right going on here.�� Gibbs said in a low voice.� The crowd of mourners was dwindling, and
Gibbs turned to Ducky.� �Please,
Ducky.� This once, humour me?�
�� Very well.� Come
along, Abigail, Timothy.� We shall
endeavour to complete our mission.��
Ducky ushered the two away.
�� Boss?�� Tony asked.
�� Let�s go, DiNozzo, David.�
Get to the car before they leave.��
Gibbs fished the keys out of the pocket of his overcoat and casually
made his way to the NCIS sedan.
~*~*~*~*~
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