Fanfic 100 [NCIS]: Harbinger {1/1}
Title: Harbinger
Fandom: NCIS
Pairings: Undertones of Kate/Ari, Kate/Gibbs
Prompt: 035 - sixth sense // round 12 at prompt_in_a_box: Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 2.2
Word Count: 1,775 words
Rating: Teen/FR13+ for language
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Donald P. Bellasario, CBS and others. I own nothing. The line listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won’t return is from Everything You Want by Vertical Horizon.
Summary: Ari, Ari, Ari who wipes blood off your lip and puts a bullet in your brain.
Spoilers: General season one.
Author's Notes: Uh, you need to suspend disbelief for this. And this makes little to no real sense, so er, prepare to be confused. Also, this is my first NCIS fic in over a year, so tell me if I've got characterisation horribly wrong, please. Master list can be found HERE
Kate dreams of rooftops, blood spatter erupting in time with the flash bang of gunshots. Tony screams in her ears, Gibbs cradles his gun in one hand and points to nowhere. Blood gushes down her forehead, covering her nose and mouth in the thick tang of copper and iron, the taste sickly sweet.
Abby cries in her lab, slumped in a corner while heavy bass reverberates through the room. Her jacket lies on the counter, blood stains evident - when Gibbs storms in, he yells and curses but doesn’t look at the table.
She watches Ducky stare down at pale skin with a blueish hue, and tilts her head in avid fascination as he carves a Y into her chest.
The bullpen lies silent while Gibbs and Tony sit in the dark, staring at her desk. Files are stacked neatly in two piles, office stationery perfectly situated next to the computer screen. The director walks in, introducing a curly haired brunette - the olive hued skin reminds her of someone she can’t quite place. Tony scowls, Gibbs snarls and McGee (young, naïve McGee from the submarine case) is silent, unwelcoming.
Kate dreams of death’s beckoning fingers, of grim reapers and of heaven and hell.
~~***~~
Tony spends the morning throwing bits of paper at her - normally she’d be threatening to shoot him right about now, but Kate has other things on her mind. Her monitor slides into screensaver and she shifts the mouse - the screen shows a photo of a beautiful brunette. Kate tries out her name - Ziva David - it rolls off her tongue and settles into the sparse file her searching has brought her.
Her pulse slows - her breaths are shallow and Kate thinks she might pass out. Ziva. Kate blinks, as if the screen will change and the olive skin and dark hair will become alabaster white and deep auburn (it hasn’t the last three times, but Kate’s never been a quitter).
Fuck.
Kate doesn’t swear much (at all) - usually, she thinks it’s crude and uncouth. Today, she cheerfully uses every expletive she knows (she grew up with three older brothers - her repertoire is quite large, despite the disuse) in the privacy of her mind.
The phone on her desk rings - Kate starts, her pulse ratchets up to normal and she can feel the blood rushing through her veins. It rings again, shrill and insistent - somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows she should pick it up.
Pick up the phone, Kate.
Kate doesn’t. The phone continues to ring - Tony stares at her and Kate thinks of high school biology. Her mind can’t seem to connect - neurons firing but overshooting synapses, action potentials crashing into oblivion. The computer screen glows, intensity building until Ziva has a veritable halo surrounding her pretty curls. Mossad, her mind whispers - but it’s not her voice. Israeli, the voice continues (but it was supposed to be before, she thinks), masculine and accented with the slightest hints of British undertones.
The phone cuts off, silent. A ball of white lands on her desk, courtesy of Tony. Ziva’s halo is disturbingly bright - listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won’t return - Kate wonders if she’s finally gone insane.
Abby bounces into the bullpen, perching on Tony’s desk and calls out a cheerful good morning. Kate ignores them both - her head is starting to throb, pounding in time to heavy bass she remembers from her dream. Ziva glows, smiling at her angelically. Kate shivers - somebody’s just walked over her grave and she’s lying in a coffin, a medal sitting over her white blouse (she’d have preferred to be buried in a sundress, something light and flirty).
~~***~~
"Mossad."
The words hang in the air - Kate sucks in a breath, her eyes trained on his. Mossad, her mind whispers, and she can see herself lying on Ducky's table with a bullet in her brain. He's either telling the truth or she's going insane. She exhales, and reaches out to take the phone from his hand.
"No, wait." She brings her hand back, looking at him uncertainly. Kind eyes, she thinks, but then what Gibbs had said made sense as well (is she just naive? little girl stop playing with the big boys). She bites her lip, hisses when her teeth catch the swollen flesh.
"Caitlin." His voice clips, the modulated tones changing the slightest, and she can hear the Israeli in him now (he sounds like Ziva but that's crazy because she's never even met the woman, isn't sure her mind isn't just playing tricks on her, but he speaks and her stomach twists and she wants to screamscreamscream until she wakes up because this has to be just a dream). She blinks, trying to make sense of things. She needs to make the call, she knows that. If Marine One lands, then - she cuts off the train of thought and wonders who to call. Will Bauer answer the phone? Maybe she should call Gibbs (gibbs: what are you doing katie? kate: having champagne with the terrorist who could be a spy that put a bullet in your shoulder.)
"Call your Secret Service friends, Caitlin."
"I don't have their numbers," she shoots back, her tone biting. Hamas or Mossad, Kate doesn't think she really cares quite so much. Haswari is a bastard whatever organisation he works for. Ari, Ari, Ari who wipes blood off your lip and puts a bullet in your brain, her mind inputs, before she brushes the thought away.
"Now now Caitlin, lying isn't becoming of a Government agent." He tilts his head, the sunlight casting shadows on the angled planes of his face. "After all, you were out with your former colleagues just last week, were you not? A late dinner and movie, I believe - though I do think you could have chosen a better movie. It was rather laborious to sit through."
It had been a bad movie, Kate thinks. "You followed me?" She glares at him, furious at the amused look on his face.
"Time's running out." He smiles again, pushes the phone towards her. "You really do need to make that call, Caitlin."
She takes the phone, dials in numbers that she knows by heart (she's anal like that because what if she needs to call someone one day and she doesn't have her blackberry?). She speaks into the phone, acutely aware of the fact that he is staring at her. He smiles at her again when she hangs up, his eyes dark (do you still think they're kind, Katie?).
"You intrigue me, Caitlin."
She shifts, uncomfortable. "Excuse me?"
"You intrigue me." Ari motions to her with a wave of his hand. "You have this prim and proper attitude, but underneath," he pauses, tilts his head again in that way that he does. "But, in the end, I suppose none of this matters. Goodbye Caitlin."
"Wait, what?" She pushes up from the table, follows him as he stalks away from the table. "Where are you going?"
"I can't really stay here, now can I?" He smiles and rides off into the sunset - he's the farthest thing from a white knight that she can think of - leaving her behind with a bottle of champagne and a dead woman with a bullet in her brain.
~~***~~
Three days later, Kate sits in the bullpen - Mossad, the voice in her head mocks in time with the echo of a sniper rifle, but this time she can picture a face in her mind. She scowls, banishing the unbidden image of bubbling champagne on a picnic table. Marine One as a walnut, her mind helpfully offers. Gibbs is staring at a photo on his computer screen - olive skin and dark hair (it might have been her, earlier) and a mocking smile, only he is Ari and she is Ziva.
Ziva stares out at her from the depths of her screen and Kate smiles ruefully. Normality has just lost all meaning - Kate’s life revolves around two pretty Israelis, Gibbs, three bullets and one fucked up dream.
Four, she amends, counting them off - Gerald, Gibbs, her breath hitches, Kate and then Ari.
~~***~~
Gibbs brings her coffee (still strong, but with cream and sweetener) for three days straight after the Ari incident - Kate really, really wants to ask him if he really shot Ari in the shoulder (five, six bullets and she's lost count because she thinks she might actually be going mad), but knows better. Abby hovers, and McGee, who still hasn't returned to Norfolk for reasons unknown, tries to pretend that he isn't trying to hover. Tony has been quieter than usual - a pretty blonde in pink and what is it with terrorists and shooting people in the head?
She doesn't like to talk about it - hours and hours of debriefing and the mandatory psych session - and how did that make you feel? The words stockholm syndrome aren't mentioned, but Kate smiled a little when she was talking about Ari and the shrink had raised an eyebrow - and how did he make you feel?
Kate ignores the implications of the question and thanks Gibbs for the coffee with a wan smile. Kind eyes, kind eyes, kind eyes, her mind taunts and she can still hear and see the flash bang of the gun going off at the picnic table.
~~***~~
Eventually, things return to normal. Kate and Tony agree not to bring up Ari Haswari in front of Gibbs and Kate refuses to talk to Tony about it at all. Kate stops keeping in contact with Gerald - it's selfish, but he's a reminder that she does not need. She talks with Ducky because he's Ducky and he doesn't judge. McGee starts working with the team more and more and Kate smiles when his relationship with Abby progresses. She thinks they'll self-destruct because they're far too different, but it's still cute. And if analysing their relationship stops her from thinking about Ari and how he finds her intriguing or Gibbs and the fact that he gave her coffee with cream and sweetener, then that's just a side benefit.
She pushes the dream out of her mind - it's wrong and things like that just don't happen - and she goes to church and she watches movies and goes to dinner with her friends.
And if she can't stop herself from looking for someone, she tries not to think about kind eyes and what Gibbs would do if he ever found out.
~~***~~
[x] Feedback will make my day. Seriously.
Fandom: NCIS
Pairings: Undertones of Kate/Ari, Kate/Gibbs
Prompt: 035 - sixth sense // round 12 at prompt_in_a_box: Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 2.2
Word Count: 1,775 words
Rating: Teen/FR13+ for language
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Donald P. Bellasario, CBS and others. I own nothing. The line listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won’t return is from Everything You Want by Vertical Horizon.
Summary: Ari, Ari, Ari who wipes blood off your lip and puts a bullet in your brain.
Spoilers: General season one.
Author's Notes: Uh, you need to suspend disbelief for this. And this makes little to no real sense, so er, prepare to be confused. Also, this is my first NCIS fic in over a year, so tell me if I've got characterisation horribly wrong, please. Master list can be found HERE
Kate dreams of rooftops, blood spatter erupting in time with the flash bang of gunshots. Tony screams in her ears, Gibbs cradles his gun in one hand and points to nowhere. Blood gushes down her forehead, covering her nose and mouth in the thick tang of copper and iron, the taste sickly sweet.
Abby cries in her lab, slumped in a corner while heavy bass reverberates through the room. Her jacket lies on the counter, blood stains evident - when Gibbs storms in, he yells and curses but doesn’t look at the table.
She watches Ducky stare down at pale skin with a blueish hue, and tilts her head in avid fascination as he carves a Y into her chest.
The bullpen lies silent while Gibbs and Tony sit in the dark, staring at her desk. Files are stacked neatly in two piles, office stationery perfectly situated next to the computer screen. The director walks in, introducing a curly haired brunette - the olive hued skin reminds her of someone she can’t quite place. Tony scowls, Gibbs snarls and McGee (young, naïve McGee from the submarine case) is silent, unwelcoming.
Kate dreams of death’s beckoning fingers, of grim reapers and of heaven and hell.
~~***~~
Tony spends the morning throwing bits of paper at her - normally she’d be threatening to shoot him right about now, but Kate has other things on her mind. Her monitor slides into screensaver and she shifts the mouse - the screen shows a photo of a beautiful brunette. Kate tries out her name - Ziva David - it rolls off her tongue and settles into the sparse file her searching has brought her.
Her pulse slows - her breaths are shallow and Kate thinks she might pass out. Ziva. Kate blinks, as if the screen will change and the olive skin and dark hair will become alabaster white and deep auburn (it hasn’t the last three times, but Kate’s never been a quitter).
Fuck.
Kate doesn’t swear much (at all) - usually, she thinks it’s crude and uncouth. Today, she cheerfully uses every expletive she knows (she grew up with three older brothers - her repertoire is quite large, despite the disuse) in the privacy of her mind.
The phone on her desk rings - Kate starts, her pulse ratchets up to normal and she can feel the blood rushing through her veins. It rings again, shrill and insistent - somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows she should pick it up.
Pick up the phone, Kate.
Kate doesn’t. The phone continues to ring - Tony stares at her and Kate thinks of high school biology. Her mind can’t seem to connect - neurons firing but overshooting synapses, action potentials crashing into oblivion. The computer screen glows, intensity building until Ziva has a veritable halo surrounding her pretty curls. Mossad, her mind whispers - but it’s not her voice. Israeli, the voice continues (but it was supposed to be before, she thinks), masculine and accented with the slightest hints of British undertones.
The phone cuts off, silent. A ball of white lands on her desk, courtesy of Tony. Ziva’s halo is disturbingly bright - listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won’t return - Kate wonders if she’s finally gone insane.
Abby bounces into the bullpen, perching on Tony’s desk and calls out a cheerful good morning. Kate ignores them both - her head is starting to throb, pounding in time to heavy bass she remembers from her dream. Ziva glows, smiling at her angelically. Kate shivers - somebody’s just walked over her grave and she’s lying in a coffin, a medal sitting over her white blouse (she’d have preferred to be buried in a sundress, something light and flirty).
~~***~~
"Mossad."
The words hang in the air - Kate sucks in a breath, her eyes trained on his. Mossad, her mind whispers, and she can see herself lying on Ducky's table with a bullet in her brain. He's either telling the truth or she's going insane. She exhales, and reaches out to take the phone from his hand.
"No, wait." She brings her hand back, looking at him uncertainly. Kind eyes, she thinks, but then what Gibbs had said made sense as well (is she just naive? little girl stop playing with the big boys). She bites her lip, hisses when her teeth catch the swollen flesh.
"Caitlin." His voice clips, the modulated tones changing the slightest, and she can hear the Israeli in him now (he sounds like Ziva but that's crazy because she's never even met the woman, isn't sure her mind isn't just playing tricks on her, but he speaks and her stomach twists and she wants to screamscreamscream until she wakes up because this has to be just a dream). She blinks, trying to make sense of things. She needs to make the call, she knows that. If Marine One lands, then - she cuts off the train of thought and wonders who to call. Will Bauer answer the phone? Maybe she should call Gibbs (gibbs: what are you doing katie? kate: having champagne with the terrorist who could be a spy that put a bullet in your shoulder.)
"Call your Secret Service friends, Caitlin."
"I don't have their numbers," she shoots back, her tone biting. Hamas or Mossad, Kate doesn't think she really cares quite so much. Haswari is a bastard whatever organisation he works for. Ari, Ari, Ari who wipes blood off your lip and puts a bullet in your brain, her mind inputs, before she brushes the thought away.
"Now now Caitlin, lying isn't becoming of a Government agent." He tilts his head, the sunlight casting shadows on the angled planes of his face. "After all, you were out with your former colleagues just last week, were you not? A late dinner and movie, I believe - though I do think you could have chosen a better movie. It was rather laborious to sit through."
It had been a bad movie, Kate thinks. "You followed me?" She glares at him, furious at the amused look on his face.
"Time's running out." He smiles again, pushes the phone towards her. "You really do need to make that call, Caitlin."
She takes the phone, dials in numbers that she knows by heart (she's anal like that because what if she needs to call someone one day and she doesn't have her blackberry?). She speaks into the phone, acutely aware of the fact that he is staring at her. He smiles at her again when she hangs up, his eyes dark (do you still think they're kind, Katie?).
"You intrigue me, Caitlin."
She shifts, uncomfortable. "Excuse me?"
"You intrigue me." Ari motions to her with a wave of his hand. "You have this prim and proper attitude, but underneath," he pauses, tilts his head again in that way that he does. "But, in the end, I suppose none of this matters. Goodbye Caitlin."
"Wait, what?" She pushes up from the table, follows him as he stalks away from the table. "Where are you going?"
"I can't really stay here, now can I?" He smiles and rides off into the sunset - he's the farthest thing from a white knight that she can think of - leaving her behind with a bottle of champagne and a dead woman with a bullet in her brain.
~~***~~
Three days later, Kate sits in the bullpen - Mossad, the voice in her head mocks in time with the echo of a sniper rifle, but this time she can picture a face in her mind. She scowls, banishing the unbidden image of bubbling champagne on a picnic table. Marine One as a walnut, her mind helpfully offers. Gibbs is staring at a photo on his computer screen - olive skin and dark hair (it might have been her, earlier) and a mocking smile, only he is Ari and she is Ziva.
Ziva stares out at her from the depths of her screen and Kate smiles ruefully. Normality has just lost all meaning - Kate’s life revolves around two pretty Israelis, Gibbs, three bullets and one fucked up dream.
Four, she amends, counting them off - Gerald, Gibbs, her breath hitches, Kate and then Ari.
~~***~~
Gibbs brings her coffee (still strong, but with cream and sweetener) for three days straight after the Ari incident - Kate really, really wants to ask him if he really shot Ari in the shoulder (five, six bullets and she's lost count because she thinks she might actually be going mad), but knows better. Abby hovers, and McGee, who still hasn't returned to Norfolk for reasons unknown, tries to pretend that he isn't trying to hover. Tony has been quieter than usual - a pretty blonde in pink and what is it with terrorists and shooting people in the head?
She doesn't like to talk about it - hours and hours of debriefing and the mandatory psych session - and how did that make you feel? The words stockholm syndrome aren't mentioned, but Kate smiled a little when she was talking about Ari and the shrink had raised an eyebrow - and how did he make you feel?
Kate ignores the implications of the question and thanks Gibbs for the coffee with a wan smile. Kind eyes, kind eyes, kind eyes, her mind taunts and she can still hear and see the flash bang of the gun going off at the picnic table.
~~***~~
Eventually, things return to normal. Kate and Tony agree not to bring up Ari Haswari in front of Gibbs and Kate refuses to talk to Tony about it at all. Kate stops keeping in contact with Gerald - it's selfish, but he's a reminder that she does not need. She talks with Ducky because he's Ducky and he doesn't judge. McGee starts working with the team more and more and Kate smiles when his relationship with Abby progresses. She thinks they'll self-destruct because they're far too different, but it's still cute. And if analysing their relationship stops her from thinking about Ari and how he finds her intriguing or Gibbs and the fact that he gave her coffee with cream and sweetener, then that's just a side benefit.
She pushes the dream out of her mind - it's wrong and things like that just don't happen - and she goes to church and she watches movies and goes to dinner with her friends.
And if she can't stop herself from looking for someone, she tries not to think about kind eyes and what Gibbs would do if he ever found out.
~~***~~
[x] Feedback will make my day. Seriously.