Good Intelligence (5/?, R, NCIS/The Closer, Jenny/Brenda primary)
Title: Good Intelligence
Author: JoelTheCat
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jenny Shepard/Brenda Leigh Johnson, flashback Brenda/Will
Genre: f/f, m/f, trying to think of a good m/m pairing
Warning: unintentional dub-con later
Spoilers: NCIS through season 5. Whole run of The Closer, which will have aired by the time I'm done :-)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Notes: Timelines totally skewed in the quest for quality femslash and because Gibbs likes redheads.
Summary: The danger from Brenda's past may not have nearly the impact on her life as the old friend who shows up to protect her.
Word Count: 625
The woman was a force of nature. Will Pope was not sure if he was striding down the hallway to Major Crimes or being blown along by the sheer strength of Sharon Raydor's anger. He was taller than she was. He should be able to lengthen his stride and leave her behind. Why wasn't it working?
"Commander Taylor seems to be under the impression that Robbery/Homicide has priority...."
Will tried to tune the woman out, but the task was beyond him. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped through the door to Major Crimes, hoping to find refuge there. Raydor followed him in.
It was too much. He spun on her so forcibly that she stepped back against the office door and pushed it closed.
"Captain Raydor, I have a good deal on my plate today. I have sixteen public housing tenants staging a small riot in their laundry room. I have a public school that has had twelve credible bomb threats so far today, and it's not lunchtime yet. I have an old man who may have murdered his neighbors because he believed they sacrificed his pet goat. And, Captain, I have the director of a federal agency who stepped off a plane with a full-scale task force and disappeared off the face of the earth. You will understand if I really don't care if you and Russell Taylor step on one another's toes until neither of you can walk, and you will pardon me while I do something about a situation that has me on the phone with everyone from the mayor to the director of the NSA!"
He spun again, and found Brenda Leigh looking up at him from a room with about twice as many people in it as there should have been. She was holding the hand of an auburn-haired woman.
"Jenny," she said, "this is Will Pope."
"This," said the redhead, "is Will?"
"Uh-huh. Will, this is Jenny Shepard."
He closed his eyes, hoping the extra population of the murder room would be gone when he opened them, but they were still there. He turned around again and found Sharon Raydor still trapped against the door, unable to open it until he moved. At least she wasn't talking any more. He closed his eyes, trying to fight off a sick headache, and was swept away in memory.
Brenda Leigh had been sprawled across his chest on a auburn-colored bearskin rug in front of the fireplace in Will's brother Curtis's cabin in the Smokies.
"Why does your bear dye its fur?" she had asked. "It can't be that color naturally."
"To cover its gray," he said, and coiled a strand of her silky golden curls around his hand. "Do I get a question now? About your mysterious past?"
"You know I can't answer...."
"One you can answer. Who was the last one you did this with?"
"I can't tell you about her."
Will tilted Brenda's face up and made her look at him.
"Her?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly this, of course, but...."
He rolled her over on her back and pinned her playfully, determined to get an answer of some sort if he had to tickle Brenda silly.
"So tell me something you can. Blond? Brunette? Redhead? That can't be an issue of national security."
"Redhead," Brenda said. "She had long beautiful red hair and she loved for me to brush it for her."
He released her arms and brushed the hair out of her face until it lay like a halo against the ginger fur. Brenda Leigh giggled, obviously thinking he was through talking. He kissed her forehead before continuing his questioning.
"What else?" he prompted.
"She taught me to shoot. She could toss half a dozen nickels spinning in the air and put a bullet through the center of every one of them before they hit the ground."
"How'd she get them all to spin?" he asked.
"That part's classified," Brenda answered, and traced her nails across the bare skin over his ribs. He had shuddered, but not given up.
"Name?" he had asked. "Just the first name. That can't be classified."
"Jenny," she had whispered, and touched him somewhere that drove all other thoughts out of his mind.
"Chief Pope?" Sharon Raydor's grating voice rasped through Will's memory, and he blinked and was back to a present where Brenda Leigh Johnson was looking up at him while holding the hand of an old friend with very red hair.
An old friend named Jenny.
Author: JoelTheCat
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jenny Shepard/Brenda Leigh Johnson, flashback Brenda/Will
Genre: f/f, m/f, trying to think of a good m/m pairing
Warning: unintentional dub-con later
Spoilers: NCIS through season 5. Whole run of The Closer, which will have aired by the time I'm done :-)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Notes: Timelines totally skewed in the quest for quality femslash and because Gibbs likes redheads.
Summary: The danger from Brenda's past may not have nearly the impact on her life as the old friend who shows up to protect her.
Word Count: 625
The woman was a force of nature. Will Pope was not sure if he was striding down the hallway to Major Crimes or being blown along by the sheer strength of Sharon Raydor's anger. He was taller than she was. He should be able to lengthen his stride and leave her behind. Why wasn't it working?
"Commander Taylor seems to be under the impression that Robbery/Homicide has priority...."
Will tried to tune the woman out, but the task was beyond him. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped through the door to Major Crimes, hoping to find refuge there. Raydor followed him in.
It was too much. He spun on her so forcibly that she stepped back against the office door and pushed it closed.
"Captain Raydor, I have a good deal on my plate today. I have sixteen public housing tenants staging a small riot in their laundry room. I have a public school that has had twelve credible bomb threats so far today, and it's not lunchtime yet. I have an old man who may have murdered his neighbors because he believed they sacrificed his pet goat. And, Captain, I have the director of a federal agency who stepped off a plane with a full-scale task force and disappeared off the face of the earth. You will understand if I really don't care if you and Russell Taylor step on one another's toes until neither of you can walk, and you will pardon me while I do something about a situation that has me on the phone with everyone from the mayor to the director of the NSA!"
He spun again, and found Brenda Leigh looking up at him from a room with about twice as many people in it as there should have been. She was holding the hand of an auburn-haired woman.
"Jenny," she said, "this is Will Pope."
"This," said the redhead, "is Will?"
"Uh-huh. Will, this is Jenny Shepard."
He closed his eyes, hoping the extra population of the murder room would be gone when he opened them, but they were still there. He turned around again and found Sharon Raydor still trapped against the door, unable to open it until he moved. At least she wasn't talking any more. He closed his eyes, trying to fight off a sick headache, and was swept away in memory.
Brenda Leigh had been sprawled across his chest on a auburn-colored bearskin rug in front of the fireplace in Will's brother Curtis's cabin in the Smokies.
"Why does your bear dye its fur?" she had asked. "It can't be that color naturally."
"To cover its gray," he said, and coiled a strand of her silky golden curls around his hand. "Do I get a question now? About your mysterious past?"
"You know I can't answer...."
"One you can answer. Who was the last one you did this with?"
"I can't tell you about her."
Will tilted Brenda's face up and made her look at him.
"Her?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly this, of course, but...."
He rolled her over on her back and pinned her playfully, determined to get an answer of some sort if he had to tickle Brenda silly.
"So tell me something you can. Blond? Brunette? Redhead? That can't be an issue of national security."
"Redhead," Brenda said. "She had long beautiful red hair and she loved for me to brush it for her."
He released her arms and brushed the hair out of her face until it lay like a halo against the ginger fur. Brenda Leigh giggled, obviously thinking he was through talking. He kissed her forehead before continuing his questioning.
"What else?" he prompted.
"She taught me to shoot. She could toss half a dozen nickels spinning in the air and put a bullet through the center of every one of them before they hit the ground."
"How'd she get them all to spin?" he asked.
"That part's classified," Brenda answered, and traced her nails across the bare skin over his ribs. He had shuddered, but not given up.
"Name?" he had asked. "Just the first name. That can't be classified."
"Jenny," she had whispered, and touched him somewhere that drove all other thoughts out of his mind.
"Chief Pope?" Sharon Raydor's grating voice rasped through Will's memory, and he blinked and was back to a present where Brenda Leigh Johnson was looking up at him while holding the hand of an old friend with very red hair.
An old friend named Jenny.