Reclaiming a Lion
Disclaimer in Part 1.
01.23 "Reveille"
Gibbs frowned, turning his head slightly to look over at Kate's desk. Still empty. D-mm-it, how long did it take to eat lunch? His eyes drifted back to the computer, still scanning through the faces to find the terrorist.
He pushed the button on his cell phone to call Kate, and it just kept ringing and ringing before going to her voice mail.
He needed coffee. He stormed up, heading out, when the phone on his desk rang. "Gibbs."
"Jethro," came Ducky's voice, unusually quiet.
"Sure, Duck, coming down now," Gibbs replied, cutting him off. He headed for the elevator, then pushed the button to head down to autopsy. He had a sudden feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, and he could feel his heart pounding.
The door opened, and his heartbeat grew louder, almost deafening. Gibbs paused a moment, his eyes warily darting right, then left. He stepped slowly off the elevator and entered dark autopsy slowly. He looked to his right - there was a body on one of Ducky's tables. Why was it so dark? Wasn't Ducky conducting an autopsy?
He stood in the dark, only the light from the hallway outside shining on him. His eyes searched the room quickly; there by an examination light was Ducky. Ducky looked at him sadly.
Gibbs crossed over to the body and pinched the zipper between his fingers, about to unzip the body bag. His heartbeat sped up, and he looked up at Ducky again to reassure himself - but the ME's expression hadn't changed. The agent felt his stomach flip-flop.
Gibbs slowly unzipped the bag and flipped back the top.
He swallowed hard, biting back a gag at the sight of Kate, a bullet through her forehead. His initial look of concern quickly smoothed into one of horrified, muted shock as he stared, unable to look away.
Kate.
He looked up, back to Ducky, who had been standing by the examination light, desperately seeking for some kind of explanation. But this time Ducky was not there; Ari stood in the ME's place, smirking.
"Wake him up," came a familiar voice - Abby's. Right. Wake her up. Gibbs started to reach for Kate on that autopsy table. Wake her up, wake her up. She wasn't dead. He could wake her up.
Abby had said "wake HIM up". Who...?
"I don't know. Maybe he needs the rest." McGee - why was he here?
Ari began to fade away, as did autopsy and the horrifying image of Kate's cold, dead face. He began to focus on their voices, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He was at his desk, at the office. He'd had a nightmare.
There was a deep sense of relief. A nightmare. Kate was alive somewhere.
"He's not resting. Look at him. His eyeballs are disco dancing under those lids."
"Disco dancing. Is that bad?"
"It's Gibbs," Abby replied knowingly. "It never left."
He sat up, opening his eyes. "McGee should have."
When he got to the counter of his coffee shop, he greeted with an unsmiling nod the quiet coffee girl who generally served him in the morning. He just didn't have the energy to be gracious today, and he was thankful that she never tried to chat him up or be perky. "Regular," he replied, referring to his usual.
She nodded and turned away to get his coffee when he suddenly said, "I need another large coffee. Milk and sweetner."
She stared at him, puzzled and uncomprehending. "Milk and sweetner?"
"Yes, the second coffee. I want milk and sweetner in it."
She gave him another puzzled look, then went about preparing the coffee.
He knew what kind of coffee Kate took. He'd watched her get coffee before, and his mind had unwittingly stored away that tidbit of information, like he had her shoe size and what her tattoo was...one of those things he kept assuring himself was just a way to keep his observation skills sharp. Not that he had any other motive or interest.
He was going to her to ask her to profile the terrorist. That was the reason he'd gotten her coffee and would go to track her down - no other reason. She was a profiler, and he needed a good profile of the terrorist, maybe turn up more clues on the man's identity. Never mind that she already had written one out, and no doubt she'd be confused as to why he wanted another one.
He assured himself it had nothing to do with his need to see her alive, to wash away the images of his dream.
The employee set the two cups of coffee before him, marking his with a small black 'G' on the cup. Gibbs nodded and paid for the coffee, then stepped outside.
He walked briskly the two blocks to D.C. Beans, as if going faster might help him to leave behind the last vestiges of his nightmare. It ran again in his head, like a motion picture on the silver screen, playing again in his mind. He remembered flipping the top of the body bag back, and seeing her cold face, the black bloom of a gunshot on her forehead, and visibly flinched. His step quickened.
He arrived at the door to D.C. Beans and looked in, seeing a brunette standing in there - white suit, small tan purse, shoulder-length brown hair, and almost dropped his coffee, almost running in to grab her and turn her around to assure himself it was Kate.
He was entering when he heard her voice. "Kate. NCIS."
He calmed a little - she was fine. Alive, anyhow, not lying on a cold slab in Ducky's autopsy room. That was her voice - he'd recognize it anywhere. He tried to dismiss the relief that washed over him. It had been a nightmare only.
He shook it off and was about to approach her as she continued to speak with the man in the line a head of her. He was talking about actuarial analysis and hail and storm damage. Since those had so much to do with NCIS.
Kate gave the man a slightly puzzled look. "What NCIS do you think I'm with?"
"National Crop Insurance Service."
He was an Aggie? He was with the Agricultural Department. Gibbs was almost glad that he'd come today. All this pent up tension...some Aggie - innocent or not - made a good target. "That's us," he replied, squeezing past a surprised Kate. "Oh, yeah," he continued, gesturing lightly at her with one of his cups, "she's a whiz on how corn losses affect pork belly futures." He passed another customer. "Excuse me."
He caught a glimpse of her half-puzzled, half-surprised expression...and tried not to smile to himself. Kate was so hard to fluster, so hard to catch off balance. He loved to pull something out and make her trip over it - make her blush, feel her puzzled, confused eyes on him.
The nightmare of that morning was entirely gone.
He could hear her still talking to the Aggie. "My boss. Weird sense of humor." She smiled apologetically, and then came over. She had wiped off her puzzled expression from before and now looked at him now with a "I don't know what you're up to, but don't think I'll fall for it" expression as she approached him.
He put his foot on the chair across from him, pushing it out for her.
"'How corn losses affect pork belly futures'?" she repeated, in a "are you kidding?" tone. She stood by it for a moment, still looking at him suspiciously, although she did slide her purse from her shoulder.
"Rule number seven. 'Always be specific when you lie'," he quoted to her as he pushed the coffee across the table to her.
She still wasn't buying it, and Gibbs wasn't sure whether to be disappointed that Kate obviously thought so little of him that she didn't think he'd do something altruisitc or to be proud that her agent's instincts had been honed to this level. "Why are you bringing me coffee from your caffeine dealer two blocks away? And don't use rule seven."
"You want that or not?"
She looked at it with calm wariness, then said, "I take my coffee with milk and sweetener."
"Taste it," he replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own coffee.
He could tell she was still watching him, lips slightly pursed, as if she wasn't sure if this was some kind of joke and whether or not to take him seriously. After a moment, she took a sip. "Little strong," she said, her voice a little cracked as she swallowed the strong coffee.
He smiled for the first time all morning, slightly amused by her reaction to the coffee. "Strong's better."
She still wasn't buying it, setting the coffee and down and then waiting impatiently for him to say something, her fingers drumming against each other nervously. "Gibbs, you're making me nervous. Scary scenarios are popping into my head, like you're here to fire me or to tell me that I'm going undercover as DiNozzo's wife."
He wasn't about to do either. Especially not the wife thing. No, not with DiNozzo, anyhow. He held back a chuckle at the DiNozzo's wife comment, though - poor Tony, that Kate would consider her playing Mrs. DiNozzo on par with being fired. "I want you to profile a terrorist."
He could see her mind turning. They always referred to that bastard as "him" or "THE terrorist" or "that bastard" or something, and they hadn't had a case since Lt. Johnson's, and he hadn't shown up since that day at NCIS. No wonder she was confused. "What terrorist?"
"The one you couldn't stab," Gibbs replied darkly, and he watched as Kate's face fell slightly when she realized now that he knew.
He had to know. It had been bothering him constantly since Ducky had told him what happened, and he'd always comforted himself with the (naive) hope that the terrorist wouldn't come back; that he'd kill that bastard before he came within ten miles of Kate.
The nightmare had changed all that, and Gibbs couldn't shake the terrifying feeling that no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't protect her.
Kate paused a moment. "Ducky tell you that?" she asked, her face falling slightly. "It's true."
He stared at her, unbelieving that she couldn't do it, not wanting to believe that his Kate would be unable to do something like this. "Why?" he barely managed to get out, his voice coming out hoarsely.
"Hey, Paula," Kate greeted, moving about in front of the 'Most Wanted' wall as she spoke on her phone. If she were from her desk, Tony would whine about wanting to talk to Paula.
"Hey Kate!" the other woman's voice came over the line. "What can I do for you?"
"Could we, uh, video conference?" Kate asked, cupping her hand around her mouth and the voice piece of the phone. "About the Little Creek lead you gave a couple months ago."
"Video conference," came the puzzled tone. "Well, sure, if you want. You know, we could...do this over the phone."
"I'd like...face to face," Kate replied, pausing. "If that's OK with you."
"Sure," Paula replied. "No problem. I actually have a free schedule today."
"Wonderful. How does 1800 Zulu sound to you?" Kate replied, checking her PDA date book for that time.
"Make that 1830 Zulu," Paula replied, checking her own calendar for Tuesday, "and you got a deal." She looked at the 1.30 pm time slot.
"Done. See you in a few hours."
"Bye."
Kate rolled her eyes as Tony hit up the female bartender at the restaurant, nursing a drink he obviously didn't want THAT much. So much for being so in love with whatever Swedish woman whose name he didn't know. He was like a kid who forgot about his Woody cowboy toy when he got Buzz Lightyear.
There were days Kate was convinced that Tony was a real-life version of Jack in that Robin Williams movie - the little kid whose body aged four times as fast. Three days ago he'd whined and begged incessantly for one of the protein bars in her purse, complaining that he was "starving". Gibbs had rolled his eyes as Kate finally gave in.
Gibbs.
Kate frowned and sighed. She had hoped that, for once today, she could put out of her mind Gibbs and his obsessive search for that bastard. Going out to lunch with Tony and Ducky, making weekend plans with Abby to go to a spa...anything...to try to get her mind off the search for that terrorist.
Yet, even on that one girls night out with Abby, she had to admit that a few times she'd worried that Gibbs was sitting at his desk, obsessing over being unable to find the man. Normally her girls' nights out with Abby were wonderful at making her forget work, but the case still haunted her.
"Are you all right, Caitlin?" came the cultured, gentle voice.
Kate gave him a smile. "I'm fine, Ducky."
"Are you certain?" the ME asked, gently touching her arm as they sat out in the sunlight, waiting for their food. "Is there something bothering you?"
Kate paused a moment, half-wondering if she should try to assure him she was fine, then decided against it. She'd voiced her concern about Gibbs to Tony; Ducky was Gibbs' oldest friend and had known him longer than Tony had. Ducky had been more than helpful in Col. Ryan's case, too.
"Caitlin?" Ducky encouraged, taking a sip from his cup.
"I'm worried about him, Ducky," she said quietly. Ducky paused, then nodded, well aware of whom she was thinking. "Ducky, he's been crazy this whole time. I think you know." At the ME's slow, understanding nod, she continued, "Then this morning, he bought me coffee, then came to my coffeeshop and started pressing me about the terrorist. Abby and McGee said they found him asleep in his chair this morning. We didn't have a case for the last week."
Ducky sighed. "I was afraid of that."
"Ducky, I left last night at 11 pm, and he walked with me out to the parking lot. I thought he was going to leave. He came back." Kate's frustration came out.
Ducky gently squeezed her arm. "I understand, Kate. He will be all right." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the waitress coming with the food, and Tony following her like a cow being led by a rope.
"I'm starved," Tony moaned as he sat down. He looked at Ducky and Kate, who had suddenly become silent, and then got a suspicious look on his face. "Whatever she said," he insisted, pointing at Kate, "it's not true, Ducky."
The ME chuckled. "We were discussing Gibbs, Tony."
Tony rolled his eyes as he dug in. "Well," he said pointedly, looking at Kate. "I think boss is just persistent and Kate worries too much."
Kate rolled her eyes and looked to Ducky for support. The ME just chuckled as they began to eat. "Jethro's behavior does warrant much concern," he conceded to Kate. "But he has been obsessive like this before and managed to recover."
"Really?" Tony asked curiously. "When?"
"Gibbs was like this just before his last divorce," Ducky replied.
Kate chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. "We can't divorce him, Ducky."
Ducky chuckled. "You wouldn't want to, my dear, no matter how gruff he becomes," he smiled. And he didn't think Jethro would do well - at all - if Kate were to try.
Ducky chuckled as Gibbs examined the meat puzzle, as he and his new assistant had begun calling it. He was glad to see Gibbs slightly distracted at this point, however morbid the distraction. "This poor fellow was found in a 55-gallon drum of alcohol beside a dumpster at Bethesda Naval Hospital. He'd been dissected by a sadist with a knowledge of anatomy."
The medical examiner suddenly frowned, flashing back. He could almost hear the cultured accent as the man's hand passed lightly above the body, tracing the path of the heart as he spoke. "Right ventricle, left atria. You haven't done an autopsy."
Ducky gasped, and he heard somebody apologizing to Gibbs, saying something about narrowing the search for the bastard - before he realized it was him. Good heavens, and to think that he'd hadn't thought much of Kate's offhand comment a few weeks ago.
"What if it isn't just university? Maybe he went to some kind of graduate school, medical school, post-doctoral work. Maybe he did work with MI-5, or 6, or whatever number they're up to now." She had been speculating.
"Medical school?" Gibbs had asked in disbelief.
"Hunch."
"Hunches don't get convictions in court," Gibbs had replied sharply.
"I'm not asking you to take it to court," she'd returned, mildly. "I'm just thinking aloud."
Ducky replayed that scene over and over in his head: Kate had not been sure, and had begun every comment with "I'm not sure, but - " At the time, he'd dismissed the medical school theory - that bastard had come in far more like a spy and a terrorist, and Ducky could never imagine somebody like him breaking the Hippocratic oath as easily as he had.
Yet, in retrospect...Kate's medical school hunch had come because she'd said she'd been lost during all the morphine, vessel-clamping talk. All of the men, she'd said, knew what they were talking about - the intruder, Ducky, Gerald. She'd assumed that meant that they all had knowledge of something she did not, and the only common denominator she could find was medical knowledge.
Ducky felt the guilt weighing down. He and his assistants were so immersed in the study of anatomy, and of medical knowledge, he sometimes forgot what the others didn't know. When that bastard had been rattling on about Gerald losing his arm, Ducky hadn't taken that to mean more than common knowledge.
But with that autopsy comment....
"Right ventricle, left atria. You haven't done an autopsy."
He turned to see Gibbs staring at him, waiting. "Oh, Gibbs, I am so sorry. I should have realized. It would have narrowed your search for that bastard who put the bullet into Gerald's shoulder. It only just came to me."
"What came to you, Ducky?
"That bugger knew anatomy! I even asked him if he was a doctor. He didn't reply but I'll wager he went to medical school in Britain!"
The phone began to ring, but Kate refused to reach for it.
"Simi," the driver said, and the man seated in the back reached towards her, taking the obvious opportunity to grope her.
"It's on the left side on the belt!" she spat.
Simi flipped it open, and Kate caught the name on it. #2 - Gibbs. Gibbs was calling. For a second she felt relief - somebody was looking for her. Maybe Paula had called the office when she hadn't shown up; most likely, though, she guessed that Gibbs was yelling at somebody for not working on some cold case.
"Who's Gibbs?" the driver suddenly asked.
That's when the concern, preceded by brief panic, set in. She was not going to give away her teammates. Kate just gave the driver a contemptuous look.
He grabbed her hair, slamming her head back. "Who. Is. Gibbs?"
The words came out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. "My boyfriend. He calls me when he leaves the office." What?
"Where does he work?" the driver asked sharply.
Kate smirked, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Iraq." She bit back a scream of pain when he punched her, splitting her lip.
It rang...rang...rang...rang...then Kate's voice. "Todd." Gibbs felt a sudden relief. Then it went on. "Leave a message." Voicemail.
He squeezed the phone, anger turning into worry now, and snapped the phone shut. "Keep trying her home phone," Gibbs barked.
Kate glared at the man, sitting primly and angrily as he got ice. He set the small bowl of ice down. Her phone rang for the third time, and the terrorist smirked. "Gibbs must be quite worried about you," the man said with no small measure of amusement.
Kate just glared at him.
The tall, dark man chuckled out loud now. "You are Gibbs' agent through and through. You have some of his mannerisms now."
"I also have one of his bullets with your name on it."
At that, the terrorist shook his head in amusement. "It's little wonder he likes you," he mused. He sat down and picked up a cube of ice and started moving it to her lip.
She plucked it from his hand and applied it to her own lip, then said sharply, "You told me I could call Gibbs."
The man smiled. "On one condition. "
Kate was hardly surprised, but certainly not amused. She put down her hand, holding the ice to her lip. "Surprise, surprise," she replied sardonically. "And what am I to say?"
"You became quite ill after lunch," the man replied, as if telling a story. "You went to emergency, where it was diagnosed as food poisoning. They pumped out your stomach, gave you an IV and sent you home. You'll be fine tomorrow. You just need some sleep. "
Kate tried not to grind her teeth in anger at that. It was specific, it was a good story. 'Always be specific when you lie,' Gibbs had said. She was sure he could fall for this story, if she delivered it right; but she wasn't about to let this bastard go again, even if it meant her getting hurt. "And if I don't say that?" Kate dared him rebelliously.
The man just smirked. "Marta?" he called, and Kate turned to see the "love of Tony's life" standing there in the doorway.
Her heart dropped into the floor.
Gibbs had his cell phone out before the first ring was over, and Tony and McGee looked up instantly. He flipped the phone open. Kate. He felt relief washing over him, and then anger at the fact that she'd waited this long to call back. He opened his mouth to yell at her when she cut in.
"I got food poisoning," she said, and Gibbs suddenly felt bad about his preparation to yell at her. "I had to go to the hospital, get my stomach pumped."
Gibbs felt a pang at that - she was sick. D-mn. "Mm." He made a mental note to go down to talk to Ducky, see if the M.E. would go over to her apartment to see if she was all right.
"No, there's no need for Ducky," Kate replied, as if reading his mind. "They pumped my stomach, and I'm just tired." She sighed, then said, "Tony's right. Never eat oysters in a month without an 'R'. I'll be fine by tomorrow." She hung up before he could reply.
Gibbs snapped his phone shut.
"She OK?" Tony asked, concerned.
"Food poisoning," Gibbs replied tonelessly. D-mn, he'd been worried something had happened to her. It wasn't like Kate to miss meetings, particularly when she'd asked to talk to Agent Cassidy face to face. The day she'd been throwing up on Air Force One, she had worked through it. She had to be pretty sick. He was mad that she hadn't called earlier, putting him through an emotional wringer, but then again, he had to admit to feeling bad because of it...she was throwing up her guts somewhere.
A small part of him, however, was suspicious.... But why Kate would lie about taking a break? His gut was telling him that something was wrong. D-mn, he needed to think. "I need coffee."
Haswari held out her phone to her. "Call your old friends at the Secret Service. I will tell them all they need to know. Take it. My Hamas are well trained. They will kill or capture your president and mine."
Kate stared at him for a moment. "Your president," she said, frowning.
"I'm Israeli. Mossad." Haswari held out the phone. "Take it. Call the Secret Service."
Kate frowned, then picked up her phone. She flipped open the phone slowly, and her fingers began to dial. She had to concentrate to remember the number - it had been awhile - and she had to focus to keep her fingers from trembling.
His phone began to vibrate on its spot hooked onto his belt, and William Baur waved at his new agent to indicate that he was going to take the call. He stepped into the hallway. "Baur."
"Sir."
He blinked for a moment, the sound of the voice familiar but still foreign. It took a moment for the name to register with the older man. He hadn't heard it for months - almost a year. "Kate?!"
"Sir, this is really important," she said in a clear, crisp but urgent voice.
"Boss!" McGee shouted, standing and pointing at the computer as Gibbs came down the stairs from MTAC. "I got a location. Kate just turned her phone on. She's actually making a call."
Both Tony and Gibbs reached for their cell phones, but neither rang. Neither did any of the desk phones ring.
"Who is she calling?" Tony puzzled.
"WHERE is she?" Gibbs barked, rushing to his desk.
McGee typed quickly. "No, no," Abby corrected. " 'C', then 'A'."
"I know," McGee replied, quickly deleting and retyping the command. "She's..." he blinked in surprise. "She's out on a farm about an hour from here. That's the address. Want me to copy it down for - "
McGee's eyes popped out of his head as he watched Gibbs pull out his PDA, scribble in the address, and then look down at the screen at what were directions.
"Tony, let's go," Gibbs barked. "McGee, see if you can't find out who Kate's calling."
As the two men hurried out, McGee turned to Abby in surprise. "Did you teach him how to use that PDA?"
"No, I thought you did," Abby replied.
"No...."
They were pulling out of the NCIS headquarters' parking lot when Gibbs' cell phone began to ring. He threw it to Tony to answer.
"DiNozzo," Tony replied. "Boss, it's Kate."
A wave of relief washed over him. She was alive.
"No, we know where to go," Tony replied. "McGee tracked down your phone call when you first called. Hey, how come you didn't call us first? Who'd you call first, your boyfriend?" Gibbs could hear a sharp, impatient retort. "OK, OK," Tony muttered in apology. "You need the truck? Sure, I'll call Ducky. Send an agent with him? Why?"
"Tell McGee to go with Ducky," Gibbs barked.
"OK. OK. Hey, K - " Gibbs heard the distinct sound of the phone hanging up. "Well that was rude," Tony mumbled.
"Get on the phone, call Ducky," Gibbs replied sharply. "Tell him to grab that new assistant of his and bring McGee along."
"Hey boss, don't you think it's weird that Kate thought Ducky should come with an agent? I mean, do you think we should call her back and ask - "
"Just do what she told you," Gibbs snapped.
Chapter End Notes:
Actual dialogue from the episodes are in italics. Mainly, the other "missing scenes" from these other episodes are set up for my FF on "Reveille" (at the end).