Ugh. Just (literally just) got hit with a stomach bug of some kind... and yet I am still posting a new story. Says something about me. This one is very different to all my previous ones. I decided to try a go at a different genre because this episode has always been one of my favourites and I've been wanting to explore the whole 'thought Tony was dead scenario' for a while. There will be a chapter per character (although I'm sort of hesitant over Jenny...)
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS in any way, shape, or form, no matter how much I might want to. Enjoy everyone!
His gun. His badge. His cell phones.
She couldn't believe that this was happening. She couldn't believe her reaction to the fact that this was happening. She had worked in Mossad for years; raised by her father to become Metsada. She knew death as though it were an old friend. And because of this, she avoided making other friends, so as to avoid having to go through the same emotions she had when Tali had been killed. She shielded her heart, locking the steel door and throwing away the key.
Yet, in the time she had been at NCIS, she had ignored that. Despite her every intention, she had grown close to the team. They had found her key and opened the door.
She had become complacent, expecting to hear loud music when she walked down to get forensic results, to hear a whole lot of words she didn't understand when asking for technical advice, to hear long-winded stories when dealing with a dead body, to hear terse orders and reprimands from their boss that was often contradicted by the small, proud smile he gave them when he thought they weren't looking. And she had grown to expect to flirt at crime scenes with him. To hear pointless movie references from movies that she had actually started to watch, just so she could talk to him about it. To see the small, not obvious ways that he showed her he cared about her.
She had grown to expect to see his smile every morning.
And now she never would again.
He was gone.
It was completely unexpected.
She had come into the office because she had been worried. She had not expected to hear that Tony had been working an undercover operation for the last few months. She was definitely not expecting to see Tony's car get blown up – while she was watching it.
She was meant to be his partner, damn it. She was meant to watch his back, like he always did for her.
But he hadn't told her about this assignment.
And now he was dead.
She would never hear another damned inane movie reference; never hear another Sean Connery impersonation in that charming way that only he could pull off.
She'd never see his smile again.
She would never see Tony again.
Her eyes were glittering with unshed tears as she walked down the final few steps from the MTAC balcony and into their squadroom.
It had been a while since she had cried, she noted dispassionately, looking at the desk that would never again have a charming federal agent looking for leads as he did the job that he loved.
She blinked back the tears as she slowly approached the desk. She needed to stay strong; they had to find the bastard that did this to their Tony. She couldn't afford to break down now; not while the people that took him away from them were still at large. She could break down later tonight, when she was at home, alone. Maybe she would go to Tony's place. Watch one of his movies, imagining all the trivia that he would have told her had he been watching with her. Maybe.
She was staring at his desk. It seemed so… empty without Tony sitting behind it, leaning back in his chair as he joined her in their banter that so often permeated the squadroom, amusing all the agents within hearing range.
Her hand brushed against the desk that Tony always kept surprisingly neat. She looked at the paperwork that had built up since they had left the previous day. They would never be signed with the loopy signature of the senior field agent.
She looked down at the desk, knowing that she had to grab her gear and get to the crime scene, but she couldn't seem to be able to drag herself away from the desk.
She felt, irrationally, that if she left now, then Tonys things would disappear just as suddenly as the man himself had.
She looked down. There, lying on the desk, next to his inbox, where the mailman always dropped his letters, was his letter opener.
She picked it up, admiring the ornate metal and the engraved leaves that decorated it.
Decisively, she turned around, heading back to her desk to get her gear, taking the letter opener with her. She used one everyday. This way, every day, she would remember the man who had managed to worm his way into her heart so thoroughly.
She would keep a piece of him with her.
She believed that this was the first time she had ever been so thrilled and relieved to see somebody. When the elevator doors opened and she saw Tony again, her heart had filled with joy, something that hadn't happened in many, many years.
When that bastard Kort had threatened him, she did not hesitate to put her gun to his head. She had just gotten him back. That bastard was not taking him away again.
Later that day, she ended up giving him back his letter opener. She was slightly embarrassed by the fact that he knew how sentimental she had been, but it was overwhelmed by the fact that he was back. That she would have someone to flirt with, to watch her back as only he could. That he was alive.
And she would never take that fact for granted again.
Let me know what you thought!