Even the colour of the walls had changed.
That sickeningly sweet lavender of his old squad room had been repainted to a seemingly even more disgusting pumpkin colour. Apparently NCIS still didn't hold interior design as one of their top priorities.
He didn't see a single agent that he recognised. Marty wasn't huddled under that tiny desk beneath the staircase anymore. Johnson had disappeared from in front of the elevator. Hartley wasn't sitting on the other side of his old barrier anymore, or what he could only assume was his old barrier. The layout had changed with the agents. It was, admittedly, much more roomy now. A lot more space. To run, to argue, to fret, to bicker. To do what NCIS agents do best.
And even that damn silver coffee machine had gone. For the better, he did note. You could choose your own strength now. Installed under Gibbs' influence no doubt. Not that he'd believe that Gibbs would end up drinking from it anyway.
"It's not coffee," he'd insist.
Nevertheless, it was the heat radiating from the steaming styrofoam in his own hand that seemed to be the only thing in the room that felt familiar at all. You could always rely on coffee.
He let out a deep breath in preparation and stepped out of the elevator quickly, inhaling the sour, new-carpet smell of his old home. As much as he'd deny it himself, he missed the smell of this place. The scent that no matter how long you were there, never seemed to change. Never seemed to make that transition from the new- to old-carpet smell. If there was such a thing. That scent that seemed to be able to wake you up at four-thirty in the morning when two showers, a subzero temperature and even coffee couldn't. That scent that would always cause your chest to instantly flinch, your heart to jump a tenth and your head to settle into it's usual routine of anxious foresight and anticipation, just as it was doing now.
He rounded the heavy silver slider doors, took a few more strides and was finally able to locate two faces he did recognise. Both were bent studiously over their respective desks, shuffling masses of files and writing quick code-notes. One was typing sporadically, two-fingered, he noticed, at the keyboard in front of him, obviously searching for or entering suspect information. A cell phone rang in front of him. He stopped typing and took a look at the caller ID.
"Damn it, Olivia," he grumbled. "When I say I'm at work, it means I'm at work. ‘No answer' means I don't want to talk to you."
He then proceeded to harshly press down on a button. It stopped ringing.
The other agent was talking with someone on the landline.
"Good morning. Yes, hello, Ma'am, I'm calling from NCIS. No, no, Ma'am. Not CSI, NCIS. It stands for the Naval Crim... No, Ma'am... No, my name is Special Agent Caitlin... No, not Catherine. Yes, my name is Special Agent Kate Todd. No, not Catherine Willows. My name's not Catherine. No, Kate's not short for Catherine. Yes, of course you can have the name Kate without it having to be short for Catherine! Yes, it's short for Caitlin... Okay, yes, you're right about that. Okay, Ma'am, you know what, I think I've kept you for long enough. That's fine. No, don't worry. You've been a huge help. Thank you. Yes. Good bye."
She slammed down the phone hastily and exhaled curtly.
"At least some things haven't changed around here."
The two faces swung up and around to look at the man who'd just entered their office.
"What the hell are you doing here?" DiNozzo said gruffly, standing from behind his desk.
Kate followed suit, equally as surprised.
"Gibbs didn't tell you about the case?" the man asked.
Neither of the blank looks vanished from their faces. Quite clearly, ‘no', was their answer.
A long, deep squeal suddenly came from further the hallway. The three of them jolted their heads suddenly to see who it was.
A tall, dark haired girl in a lab jacket came flying toward the man and leapt into his arms.
"Burley!" Abby squeaked.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A past agent returns to assist on a case that forces the team into the sleaze floating just below the surface of the government's glittering façade.