absterclaw

[absterclaw]

Mine (NCIS)

Word Count: 441

I know that I’ve been taken advantage of, mainly by the agency, but this time feels different. More of myself was invested, thus more of myself was caught in the backlash.

There had been a time where the agency was all I thought about. Hell, it still is. Newly minted at NCIS and assigned to desk work. Thinking back to it, I was desperate for work and readily allowed them to run over me. My desk was piled high with notes for other case workers and how others liked their coffee. It was at the desk in the back of the building on floor three that I saw him.

It was his eyes that drew me in, steel blue and an air of despair. The fluidity in his movements, commanding tone, and a sass that no one would expect pulled me even further. His caring nature and ability to convey a message without saying a word made him irresistible. I couldn’t help it. I had to know him. And I did. Gibbs.

He gives special treatment to the girls, I’ve noticed. It started with Kate, then Ziva, and now me. After three years, I’d hoped it would be me. Knew it would be me. His ‘treatment’ for me is different from the others. It seems more personal, more affectionate, more…special. It couldn’t have gone any other way, I’m afraid. I knew the risks of being put on his team.

“Ms. David is a Mossad Agent. She’s not NCIS. I’m not dismissing her talents, but a team should be composed of four NCIS agents as according to the handbook. I’d like to fill that last spot, sir.”

This was my case and I’d served it well. That next week, I was being introduced to my new teammates. And Gibbs. He was on my team now. No, no. I was on his team now.

I’ll admit: the other three worked well with Gibbs. I just happened to be an excellent fit, too. Almost too excellent. Not long after I’d been assigned to the team, Gibbs invited me to his house. He was kind and told me the ropes of how he likes his team to run. He brought out the whiskey and offered me a glass. I refused. No need to rush the plans. It would happen exactly as I imagined. Not that night, though.

I learned that he was much more than just Leroy Jethro Gibbs that night. As if he could ever be just Gibbs. I happened to learn that he wouldn’t get away this time. No, my claws were dug in deep and I wouldn’t let go. He is mine.

[absterclaw]

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

— Robert Frost

[absterclaw]

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 7

Word Count: 430

Wake up…

Wake up, Y/N…

It wasn’t until I heard beeping that I started to arise from a dreamless slumber. It’s cold, and not a comfortable cold, but the harsh kind that burns nostrils and gives brain freezes. The scent of chemicals wafts through my nose; instant regret.

My throat is sandpaper and there isn’t enough saliva in my mouth to soothe it. The cough that erupted next sent sharp pains through my throat and abdomen. What happened? Where am I?

Cracking my eyes open into slits, nothing but white greeted me. No, scratch that, there is a figure sitting in a chair next to me, slumped back with his mouth open. You’ll catch flies like that.

A pounding in my head distracted me from the man. I must be in a hospital. There was hospital equipment everywhere and I am currently laying in a hospital bed. Tubes and wires are everywhere. The one closest to me was stuck into the crook of my arm, an I.V., while another one was shoved into my nose. I must be on oxygen. If I’m at a hospital, there should be nurses everywhere, right? Why haven’t I seen one?

Speaking of the devil, a male nurse in blue scrubs walks in flipping pages on a brown clipboard. He looks friendly, yet tired. I wonder what I look like right now?

“You’re awake!” He whispered excitedly, looking pointedly at the man in the chair. “How are you feeling?” The nurse, Ivan from his name badge, walks around the bed to a water dispenser in the corner of the room. How’d I miss that?

He sets the water onto the side table and raises the bed. It felt like years before I was at a level high enough to sip the paper cup. I mumbled appreciation after I finished the liquid.

“I feel like shit.” Ivan smiled and checked the monitor to my right.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” His stare burned into my eyes. “What do you remember?”

Nothing came to me at first, but the look on his face told me he expected an answer. Thinking harder, I remembered sitting at a desk and looking up information on a computer. What information? I can’t say. An older man popped into my vision for a second. Graying hair and a sharp jacket and trousers along with a badge on his hip. He was pointing a gun at me. Gibbs?

I look to the man sitting next to me, he isn’t Gibbs. No, that’s Tony.

“I remember my boss pointing a gun at me.”

[absterclaw]

Cold: sharp and rigid

Hot: round and wiggly

Change my mind

[absterclaw]

[absterclaw]

“When there’s money involved, it’s always the spouse.”

Tony DiNozzo

[absterclaw]

Be the person you needed when you were younger.

Unknown

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 6

Word Count: 519

It came to me one night as Jethro and I were eating cheap Chinese and drinking rotgut. I’d been living with Gibbs for over a month now. Nothing about the man who bombed the sedan came to light and there was no news about when I would be able to go home. If I would be going home.

We’d made a routine a couple of weeks ago: wake up, carpool to work, leave on time, work on the boat, eat food, then go our separate ways for the night. I’ve got to say that my carpentry skills are improving, big time. Most of the time we sit in silence, nothing but the sound of scraping wood to relieve it. Other times, he’s so playful, even after a hard day of work. He acts nothing like he does at work, all uptight and serious.

There has been one case the entire time I’ve lived with Jethro and it was almost open and shut. There was a sailor who helped his buddy launder money, but ended up dead because his buddy didn’t want to share the profits anymore. Typical. It felt nice to focus on something other than me for a change. Something that isn’t what I’d done, where I’d been, or who I was with within the last six months. It’s a good thing I don’t have many friends outside of work.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Jethro asked after a long period of boat tending. This is the first time he’s ever offered a movie together.

“Your TV doesn’t work, Jethro. How could we watch a movie?” I reply as I continue to sand with the grain.

He sucks in a breath of air, “I fixed it this morning.” I gave him a narrow look and set down the sander. “I’ve got company now.” It was his smile, such a contagious thing, which led me to agree with him. A movie did sound nice. Maybe it would get me out of my own head for a while.

He let me choose the movie, a chick flick with Sandra Bullock, but he didn’t seem to mind. He never did. We were so close that I could feel his body heat on my leg and arm. He was very warm; the house was very cold, too, so it didn’t surprise me when Jethro slid his arm around my shoulders and clutched me tightly. Well, maybe a little bit.

“You’re shivering.” He stated the reason for the contact, but that damn smile was back on his face. From this close, I could understand why he’s been married three times. He’s comforting, understanding, and he listens.

As he said, I was shivering, so I took that opportunity to snuggle up closer to his warm chest. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I wouldn’t mind doing this for a long time. The warmth, and the company, was well appreciated. I just can’t tell if I’m only here for safety, or for a reason it shouldn’t be. Gibbs is my boss, I’m his teammate. That’s all we should be to each other, right?

[absterclaw]

[absterclaw]

Don’t take people for granted, because one day they’ll decide you aren’t worth it.

Unknown

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 5

Word Count: 483

There is something about the smell of sawdust that gets me thinking. I know that he’s building a boat; it’s got to be his fifth by now. Does he build them out of peace of mind or some other reason? I couldn’t imagine doing the same thing over and over again for the sake of it.

I take that back. There are some things I will do over and over again. Not because I have to, but because I want to.

“You all settled in?” I clutch the quilt closer to my body and turn to Jethro in the doorway. His frame took up most of the space and let little light through. He’d stuck me in his guest room as the couch was too uncomfortable, even for him.

The small guest room held nothing of value: a twin-sized bed, small chest of drawers, and a nightstand with a bedside lamp. It was cozy, but not warm. It didn’t feel like home.

“Yeah.” Jethro nods and sighs deeply. “When do you think we’ll catch this guy?” All I want to do is go home and snuggle into my bed. Jethro’s is fine, but it’s not silk sheets and a diffuser.

“I don’t know, but you’ll be safe until we do.” He steps through the doorway and sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees. In the faded hallway light, he seems almost sad and lost in thought. A pang of empathy shot through my chest.

“What’s wrong?” I state and nudge him gently.

“Nothing,” he sits up and inhales slowly, “I just don’t come in here very often.”

I smack the quilt and dust flies everywhere. “I noticed.” His mouth curved up into that famous half smile of his as he turned his head to the floor. “You should have people over more often.” This resulted in a curious look at me.

“I don’t have company often.” I raise my eyebrows and cock my head to the side. “What? I like my privacy.” Jethro pats my knee, smiles, and goes to stand.

Just as before, a knot forms in my chest. He was leaving, and I’d be left alone. With nothing but darkness and Jethro’s retreating form, I can’t help but think of that night: shadows across windows, humanoid figures, the things that go bump in the night.

What really got me out of bed was the face I found looking at me from my closet. I don’t believe in ghosts, so the only other options would be that I was seeing things or someone was in my apartment. I’d prefer to believe the former, but considering someone is trying to kill me, it’s not probable.

“Jethro?” My voice came out weak and a bit shaky. Pull yourself together, Y/N. He stops at the doorway once again, shadows cascading over his face. “Mind sharing some of your alcohol?”

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 4

Word Count: 513

“What’s going on with you?” Ziva questions me overtop my desk in the bullpen. I give her a quizzical look in response. She throws her stubborn and knowing look back. I sigh.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” In truth, there wasn’t. Well, nothing that needed to be discussed at work, where the two morons could hear. Neither of which I could see from behind the Mossad officer.

Ziva narrows her eyes and slinks back to her desk. I’ve noticed that she’s been keeping a close eye on me the last few weeks. It’s something I would have done if I spotted something different with the other three as well. Not saying that there’s something different with me, but I’ve become more intensely aware of the guys lately. Especially since the explosion.

Tony chauffeurs me to my car daily and waits for me in the mornings in the parking lot. Gibbs, on the other hand, gets me coffee in the mornings. I’m not saying they’re annoying, coffee everyday is definitely a plus, but I’m starting the think there are other motives with these two. There’s always a possibility that Gibbs feels guilty for allowing a bomb to be set outside my apartment, but that leaves Tony unaccounted for. Well, he could just want to see up my skirt.

The elevator dings, a concerned Tony and impatient Gibbs walk out together. Both were holding two cups of coffee. Fantastic. Once I was spotted, they both scurried to the squad room. Tony arrived first, set down the steaming cup, and looked from Ziva to me. Gibbs sat at his desk, a disappointed look across his face.

“Why was your car here before mine, Y/N?” Tony scoffed and looked at Ziva. “Did you make her come early?” I rolled my eyes and shot an apologetic look to Ziva. She sparked back a mundane rejection and glanced back to her screen.

“Tony, I came in early because I got spooked last night. Thought someone was looking through my windows. Coming here seemed to be the best answer.” All four of my teammates glance at me.

“Y/N, why didn’t you call anyone? What if someone attacked you on your way here?” McGee piped in, worry etched on his face.

“Because I knew you all would worry.”

“Of course we would worry, Y/N! That’s what we’re supposed to do.” Ziva rounds her desk and slams her palms onto the wood around me. “This person hasn’t made contact in 15 days, but knows where you live. They could strike at any moment!”

“I don’t think Y/N should be on her own until we find the creep who’s pulling the strings.” Tony spits out. “I vote—”

“She’ll stay with me.” Gibbs smacks a stack of paper on his desk, leveling them with precision before slipping them into a yellow folder. “You’re right, DiNozzo, she shouldn’t be on her own. She’ll stay with me.” He looks up to meet Tony’s angry stare. It wasn’t long before he softened his gaze and retreated back to his desk.

“You’re right, Boss.”

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 3

Word Count: 393

A knock sounds at my door. Before I could open it, Gibbs steps through the threshold and lets loose a sigh, looking around my apartment before settling on me.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Confusion rose up in me, a similar face mirrored on Gibbs’. There was nothing wrong that I could think of.

Taking a quick look around the living room, “I mean, the TV needs to be looked at, but I can do that myself. Why?” Gibbs frowns and steps past me and proceeds into the kitchen.

In all of three minutes, Gibbs had busted into my apartment and began to sweep the place. What is he looking for? Why is he here and why did he think something was wrong?

“I got your distress call.” He looks up at me as he checks the cabinet under the sink. His fingers slide up and down the wooden doors before shutting it quickly.

“I didn’t send a distress call.”

Immediately, Gibbs stands and traces back to the living room windows, taking a quick peek outside.

“If you didn’t, who did?”

I shrug my shoulders and grab my phone off the coffee table: two missed calls from Gibbs. He grabs my wrist and pulls me to the door, latching it after us.

“We need to get to NCIS. Have McGee figure out why someone who sounds just like you is calling me and making distress calls.” We were halfway to the sedan when Gibbs’ phone began to ring again. He answered, “Yeah? Gibbs—“

A force knocks me to the ground, my ears ringing and heat spreading across my back. White blocks my vision for a moment and I can tell my palms are scraped. My head pounds but as I notice Gibbs’ prone form a couple feet to the left, he’s all I could think about.

He looks fine. A little dazed, but seeing him on hands and knees reminds me to do the same.

“Gibbs?” He doesn’t respond. “Gibbs!”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” I stand and grip his arm to help him up. Once he is standing, he reaches a hand out to my face. Pain erupts from the spot he touched. Must be a cut there.

“I’m fine. What about you?” I nod simply and turn to the fire where the NCIS sedan used to sit.

Someone just tried to kill us.

[absterclaw]

Black Widow 2

Word Count: 154

Exerpt

“I… I don’t think I can forgive you.” I stumble, a lump forming in the back of my throat as I cross my arms.

[NAME]s eyes soften as his jaw clenched shut. He swallows audibly and sucks on his teeth. “That’s fine.”

I don’t take my gaze from his and narrow my eyes, moisture building on the rims. Fine?

“It’s fine because as long as you are alive to not forgive me, it’ll be ok.” [NAME]s stare burns into mine with a final resolve.

“Alive?” I ask incredulously. “Did you even consider my feelings? You know how much he means to me!”

“Dammit, [NAME]! A world without you is a world unworthy to live in! I would do anything for you!” A tear slides down his cheek. I clench my hands into fists and stand up taller.

“Except let me die.”

He nods his head slowly. “Yes.” A brief pause. “Except that.”

[absterclaw]

Hiraeth

(ˈhirˌīTH)

(n.)

A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

[absterclaw]

The only things I find harder than the truth are the consequences to my actions.

Unknown