You'll Never Leave Completely
- Chapter 4: Searching -
"Cynthia," Tony greeted the young assistant of Director Shepard silently when they arrived in the outer office of the director's office, "How are you?" Tony's voice was full of sympathy for the woman who obviously had a hard time to cope with the latest events. Her eyes reddened; her face mirroring what the team was feeling.
"I miss her. Still can't believe it," Cynthia admitted frankly; then she took a shaky breath, and informed Vance about the arriving of the team.
Tony and Ziva both shot her an encouraging glance before they vanished in the Director's office. They knew that Shepard and her assistant had been very close; as close as two people in their positions could get. Some would say they had been friends in a special way, Cynthia always prudent and more than helpful, and Jenny a very generous boss.
The first thing they noticed was the changes in the decoration. The office now missed the warm and homelike look it used to have when it was still Director Shepard's office. Instead, everything was arranged straight and somewhat cold. But they had no chance to give the decoration any further thoughts when Vance began to speak immediately.
"Agent DiNozzo. Some people recommended me to make you a team leader. So I'll give you this position of the new leader of Agent Gibbs' team; but only on trial, you'll have to prove your leading agent's abilities. And attune yourself to Miss David leaving us soon." He turned to Ziva, who frowned at Vance's words. "Miss David, your liaison assignment will end in a few weeks; five to be exact. Get yourself prepared for returning to Israel."
"Sir... may I ask why I shall return?"
"Because your services here are not longer needed. Moreover, Mossad asked me to send you back; probably you'll get a new assignment." Vance stopped for a moment, noting down something, then he looked up again. "The funeral service for Director Shepard and Agent Gibbs will take place tomorrow afternoon. You can go home; you have the time off until after the funeral. You are dismissed," he ended, but when they left he shouted after them, "And find Miss Scuito!"
--
"You're not serious," Gibbs stated like he wanted his words to be true more than anything else. He didn't want to trust his ears. Europe? Again? And again undercover? This had to be some kind of bad joke. Really, really bad joke. Not that he couldn't bear the thought of being undercover with Jen, again; at least it had been a great period of time all these years ago, though it hadn't ended well. But that wasn't important anymore now. He had his team and his job back home in Washington; he had his life - or what was left of it - there.
"I'm so sorry, Jethro. I already had a heated discussion with the persons responsible, but for some reason, there is no way to cancel this mission, or to cancel it for us. They want us to do it. We'll get briefed as soon as you're well again and the assignment starts. Until then, we'll live in a house somewhere in Germany; I don't know yet where exactly it will be, but they assured me that we won't have to worry about anything. Right, and you'll be taken care of in this house, not in a hospital."
Gibbs closed his eyes, letting the new information sink in. Everything was arranged; they hadn't even made any attempt to ask or to warn them; no, they had practically kidnapped them; bringing them away from the Diner and directly flying them to Europe, never giving them the chance to object. If he hasn't been so weak, he would have showed them what he thought of this behavior.
"Stop musing, Jethro. You have to mend first; than we'll find a way to return as soon as possible," Jenny's calm voice broke through his thoughts, making him open his eyes, and looking up at her who's head was right above his. Gently, she pressed a kiss on his forehead. "You should sleep now. We'll arrive in a few hours and you'll need your strength. So, please, do me favor and rest," she added, knowing all to well that sleeping was the last thing he wanted to do now, with such a great amount of thoughts on his mind. But she was hoping that calling on his rationality would have some effect.
"One last thing, Jenny - do the others know about us traveling to Europe?" He could see his partner searching for the right words and he already knew that he again wouldn't like what she was going to say.
"They think... they were informed that we're dead. Officially, we got killed in a car accident, that's the version for the press; for the others, we both lost our lives in the gunfight in the diner. Only one person at NCIS knows the truth - new Director Vance. He has also been the one to inform your team."
"But Ducky...," he began, leaving the sentence unfinished when he saw Jenny nodding.
If this hadn't been so serious, she would have smiled; she had asked exactly the same questions when she had been talking to this woman who had introduced herself as Carla Elliott.
"He was told that this is not his responsibility because he is personally involved. They let Tony and Ziva survey the crime scene because they arrived right after Vance and his team; but they had only been allowed to take some photos to let Abby reconstruct the course of events. No samples, no pieces of evidence. They should be back in Washington by now. The... funeral service for..." she told him; then a lump in her throat made her stop momentarily before she ended, "us will be tomorrow." During her last words, a sick feeling formed in her stomach and she could tell that she shared it with Jethro. Thinking and speaking about the own funeral while you were still alive was more than horrible.
Jethro didn't reply to this; his eyes showed her acknowledgement, then he followed her request and tried to catch some sleep; still in his dreams haunted by the imagination of his own funeral although he was alive.
--
"So you really think she's here?" Tim asked, staring at the house in front of them.
"There is no other place left, McGee. At least none I would happen to know. But if you have any idea, just tell me," DiNozzo responded; he himself hated the idea of going into this house, looking for their friend inside a building that belonged to their former boss; the one of whom they didn't want to be remembered this way at the moment. Inside, memories were awaiting them, waiting to cut deep into their hearts again.
"We owe it to her to be there for her," Ziva quietly mentioned and earned agreeing nods from her companions.
Hesitantly, they stepped through the always open front door of Jethro Gibbs' house. Even those first steps were hard to bear; no one of them was looking forward to opening the basement door. Nevertheless, McGee laid his hand on the door handle and carefully pushed it down so the door swung open slowly.
It was dark in there, not even a single dim light shining from below, and they guessed that they had been wrong, that Abby hadn't fled to this house. They were about to leave after making sure that their young colleague wasn't in the basement when some strange noises stopped them.
"Upstairs," Tony whispered, pulled out his gun, and went ahead of the others, tiptoeing to the stairs that led to the upper floor, then taking carefully every single step. Ziva and McGee mimicked his motions, while Ducky stayed behind, keeping an eye on the front door.
They weren't sure what they had expected to be confronted with, but the last thing on their list had been Abby sitting on the floor of Gibbs' study among an enormous pile of papers, books, notepads and something that looked like photo boxes. She had her back turned towards the door and didn't even notice the others, but was completely focused on the pictures in her hands, studying them thoroughly.
Ducky, who had been called upstairs by McGee, carefully stepped into the room, trying not to step on any of the things covering up the floor.
"Abigail?" he said in a low and calm voice; he didn't want to startle her. When she didn't show any reaction, he risked to take another few steps towards her, till he was beside her where he sat down. He reached for the pictures, taking them from Abby, and looked over them. It didn't take him very long to recognize them. In one for him unusual open moment Jethro had once showed Ducky some of these photos - from his time undercover with Jenny. They looked so happy, so easy-going, like no one would have been ever able to do them and their love any harm. He knew that Jethro had been far from being so happy with even one of his ex-wives, and though his friend had never said a word about it, he also knew that Jenny has always been a very special person to him.
"They had been in love." It wasn't a question; Abby's words were a clear statement. Ducky saw some tears falling down, wetting a piece of paper lying in her lap, and laid an arm around her shoulders.
"Yes," he simply answered. With a short glance to the others behind them, Tony, Ziva and McGee, too, stepped into the room, and made some room on the floor to sit down. For a few minutes, they just stared at the photos now lying in the middle of the small circle they were sitting in.
Somewhere in the back of Tony's mind the inappropriate thought that he could have won a lot of bets formed, but he pushed it away, for a moment wanting to head-slap himself. He once had been told that every little decision in your life would be able to change everything. What if he would have pushed a bit more? Would it have changed anything? For some reason, he was sure that the relationship of these two had been a strictly professional one in the last three years. But what would have been if it hadn't been only professional?
Would they have spent the time in the hotel in L.A. or would they have gone to the diner nonetheless?