A/N: This story is an experiment for me as a writer. It is very different from my other stories in that I maintain something less than a T rating throughout (as opposed to my usual M plus), and adult language or situations are almost nonexistent throughout. I also experimented with encasing my character driven plot with the stories from the TV show. Some characters never existed, the time line is played with, and the end results are not always what happened in the show. Mostly, I really was experimenting and enjoyed it. Will be interesting to see what readers have to say. What you don't recognize is mine, everything else belongs to Belasarius and CBS.
The Red Haired Woman
The woman stood in front of his desk waiting for some form of acknowledgement. She knew he was known for being tough, a 'bastard' even, but she had chosen this assignment. Even with her back turned she knew everyone else had noticed her. They were staring at her, and not even disguising their curiosity or lust. She could feel it pouring off of them. Apparently Gibbs was immune. She had announced herself once and after that she would stand still until he acknowledged her.
Finally the silver haired handsome man raised his head, meeting his aqua colored eyes with her deep emerald green ones. She felt an electric shock race through her body, but she never even twitched in recognition. She had been trained by the absolute best of the best. She was so good at hiding her feelings she could fool the best polygraph test around, and endure the worst of torture without giving anything away.
"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked with irritation as he took a sip of his coffee. She could already tell he drank coffee most of the day given the number of coffee cups in his trash already. He had no personal items around his desk and wore no ring. She knew from his dossier he had been married 4 times already. His first wife and only child were killed. He had been married and divorced after that 3 other times. He was a workaholic and extremely well respected.
"I am Chanel Atherton, reporting for duty sir. Here are my orders." Her voice was deep and sultry and she never even tried to make it that way. She handed him her file.
He took the file from her never breaking the eye contact. "Your orders? I wasn't aware I had requested anything or anyone." He finally broke eye contact and looked up to the balcony seeing the Director of NCIS Michael Ackerman watching the scene below him with a slight smile on his face. Gibbs stood up and walked past Chanel, stopped and turned around to her. "Sit" and motioned her to the empty desk next to his. "Don't touch anything, and don't get comfortable. Tony, stay away from her. I'll be back soon."
Chanel was not used to being ordered like a dog, but she sat in the chair and casually observed the two men who would also be part of her team. She obviously recognized Tony D'Nozzo immediately. Good looking, womanizing, degreed in Phys Ed of all things, but his street smarts and bravery were undeniable. The other man had to be Timothy McGee, MIT computer geek and published writer. His first novel had actually been quite good. She found it amusing that he barely changed the names of his characters from the people who he worked with. Things were a little awkward, ok a lot awkward, since no one was talking, everyone was looking at her, and the level of curiosity was very high.
Sometime later, Gibbs returned to his desk, pointed to Chanel. "You, with me, now." She quietly followed him into the elevator, where he promptly hit the emergency switch stopping the elevator and leaving it in near darkness.
They stood watching each other, him trying to size her up, if she could possibly be as good as her file said. She was trying to figure out if he was as tough as he seemed. None of her usual methods were going to soften him up.
She finally spoke up, figuring he would appreciate the more assertive approach from her. "Can I answer your questions, sir?"
"Don't call me sir. We are not in the military and I am not an officer."
Ok, this was going well. "Can I answer your questions, Special Agent Gibbs?"
He stared at her, and finally answered her, "Where to begin?"
"Well, Agent Gibbs, if we don't start wrapping up our conversation, everyone in the building is going to have to take the stairs, and some might even start to gossip. So maybe a coffee and a walk in the park as a conference room as opposed to an almost dark elevator?"
He continued his gaze at her, smiled slightly, and hit the elevator switch, leading them out of the building, to her pleasant surprise even opening the doors as they passed through. They both got their coffee paying attention to how the other took it. They started walking in the park, both watching their surroundings closely. He started to ask the thousands of questions he had for Chanel.
"You chose this assignment? You could have gone anywhere, but you chose NCIS?"
"Not just NCIS, but I asked to work with you and your team. All the research I did led me to want to work with you. I was offered positions at the CIA, FBI, State, Secret Service, and several black ops organizations I can't discuss. You are the best at what you do. So am I. Our skills complement each other."
"You are being awarded the Medal of Honor, in secret, of course, given the circumstances."
"Yeah, whoo, hoo. A big deal medal no one can know anything about. What else do you want to know about Agent Gibbs?
"Call me Gibbs. I need investigators. My last agent was killed by a terrorist. You obviously have terrific weapon skills, forensics, tracking skills, computer skills, and you speak more languages than anyone in the whole building. But can you investigate crimes?"
"What do you need to see that proves that I can do this? I am not some probie you have to train. I might need a little help with the details. You know, just tell me what to do, and I can do it. Track money, id fingerprints, find bad guys—I guess I found a lot of the baddest guys, I think I can handle whatever might get thrown my way here on US soil."
He laughed at that, "Yeah, I guess you have found the baddest of the bad guys. That must have been a hell of a shot. And they let a woman out there with Special Forces in Afghanistan?"
"The Special Forces were my body guards and they deserve every accommodation coming their way. You know my father is General Atherton, head of the Joint Chiefs. To say that those guys who were out there with me were extremely diligent is an understatement. My identity and what I have done is beyond Top Secret. I was told you would be told, but no one else must ever know. If people will think I got my job because of my dad, or, "she said with a laughing smirk, "because I blew you in the elevator, it doesn't matter because they must never know anything about me being in Afghanistan. I know Arabic and Hebrew for reasons that are a bonus to the job, but not necessary to explain."
When she had said 'I blew you in the elevator' he stopped walking and just stared at her. "What Gibbs?"
"I agree with everything you have said, and you are definitely not a probie. But just for the record, I would NEVER expect you to blow me anywhere. You are beautiful, and perhaps many men might think of you that way. Tony surely will. But I will never disrespect you like that."
"That might be one of the nicest things anyone has said to me in a long time. Trust me, Gibbs. I never trade sex for anything, ever. Never on any op I have ever been on. I might trade the illusion of sex, but no one ever touches me against my will. There are bodies scattered across various continents to prove it. Tony should be careful. Flirtation is fun, and I am certainly provocative, but he will get hurt if he thinks it is something it isn't."
They approached the NCIS building. "I look forward to you joining my team. I suggest you wear pants or jeans and less Prada so you don't mess up your clothes in crime scenes. Let's get your badge and stuff taken care of. I'm sure you are packing your own gun and equipment, but we will issue you your own NCIS gun as well. Just out of curiosity, what are you carrying now?"
"Two guns, five knives, and a tazer."
Gibbs visibly looked over the sheath dress she had on obviously curious as to where all the weapons were.
She obliged his unasked question. "One gun and a tazer in my purse, one strapped to my inner thigh, one knife strapped behind my neck and down my back, two more in my hair clasp, and one strapped to each arm. Arming will be much easier wearing jeans and slacks. Any other questions before we go inside?"
"This might be the most fun I've had in a while. Shall we?"