A/N: This is the second time I try my hand at an AU, and the first time I attempt a cross-over. Two in one? I consider myself eitherr accomplished, or crazy. You read, and you decide.
What You Need To Know: Jennifer Shepard is a Washington DC SVU Detective; put her in place of either Cassidy or Jeffries (season 1 of LAw&Order, SVU). John Munch is her partner, Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson, Odafin Tutuola, Donald Cragen, Alex Cabot, and George Huang hold the same positions. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is an NCIS agent, the Shannon-Drug cartel storyline did happen, and Gibbs did kill the man who murdered Shannon. He works with Mike Franks, Abby Sciuto, and Tony DiNozzo. Kelly is alive, and Gibbs has a younger daughter as well: Elizabeth. Let the plot unfold.
Friday December 3rd 1991. Washington DC. 10:26 pm.
Jennifer Shepard closed her eyes and cracked her neck tensely, leaning back in her desk chair as she balefully considered the stacks of hopeless case files in front of her. She propped the heel of her leather boot up on her desk and gave the half-deserted squad room a withering look.
No one in their right mind was still here at ten p.m. on a Friday night.
"You aren't in your right mind," announced a gruff-like-sandpaper voice from behind her. A cheap cup of office coffee was placed next to her lazy foot on the desk and she smiled indulgently, accustomed to the owner of the coffee-bearing hand reading her thoughts.
"Circumstances make you my date for the night again and you couldn't spring for the good stuff?" she scoffed, lifting her head as she reached for the complimentary cup and giving her partner and mentor, the only other cop crazy enough to stick around tonight, a condescending look.
John Munch shrugged his thin shoulders and drew up his chair to his own desk, flicking his lamp to make it shine brighter. Jenny fell silent and tilted the Styrofoam cup to her lips for a pick-me-up, disheartened with the never-shrinking pile of open cases.
"Thought you had a date tonight," Munch ventured.
"Correction: I had a date Thursday night. We had to stay late for the Zucker case, I cancelled, and he pretty much cancelled any further contact."
"Ah, gee, Jenny, sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, you're heartbroken," she fired back good-naturedly.
"You get anything new on the Lafferty thing? After talking to Ms. Vincent?"
Jenny rolled her eyes.
"Oh, you know how I feel about statutory, John. Sixteen-year-old says she wanted to fuck the twenty-year-old, I say we let them go at it, but the law says Brent Lafferty gets listed next to Joe Pedophile in the files."
"Progressive of you," remarked Munch, "too bad Daddy Vincent wants the boyfriend in jail."
Jenny shrugged. Of all the cruel and violent sex crimes crowding her plate right now, the Lafferty statutory case was low on her list of priorities.
She swung her foot off the desk and stood up, sweeping a few worn out case files into her arms and walking over to the file cabinet to organize them. Munch leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
"Remind me why we're still here?"
"You're avoiding your ex-wives?" Jenny answered smartly.
"Funny. Your excuse?"
"Good Samaritan," she said certainly. "I let Stabler off the hook. He hasn't seen those kids in a month."
"What's he got now, fifty?" asked Munch with a snort. "Don't let him go home and make more."
"Don't make fun," Jenny reprimanded. "He's a catholic," she explained in a hushed voice.
"You're biased. You love kids," Munch rolled his eyes.
Jenny shrugged and smiled to herself, boredly organizing files. The good thing about her job was boredom. If she was bored, or Munch was bored, or any of them were bored around the Washington, DC Special Victims Unit Precinct, it had been a good day.
"I could say the same for you," she quipped teasingly. "You're bitter because he gets to see that foxy wife of his. And you love wives."
"You never cease to make me laugh, Jennifer," deadpanned Munch.
His phone rang shrilly, and Jenny bared her teeth at him in a threat at the use of her full name as he snatched it off the cradle and answered.
Jenny shook her head and went back to moseying around the files. She figured she'd head out in a few minutes. It was useless trying to find leads in these old cases, he-said/she-saids and files full of uncooperative witnesses. She was better off taking a night to relax and wash off the stress of such a depressing job.
"Hey," Munch called, slamming the phone down. He stood up abruptly and holstered his gun.
Jenny straightened and shoved the cabinet drawer shut, blinking herself back to reality. He looked up at her dismally, grabbing his badge.
"There was a rape on M street; Secret Service Police caught the tail end."
"What hospital?" Jenny asked, finding her own weapon and badge quickly and following Munch swiftly out of the squad room to the elevator. He shook his head as the elevator door closed.
"They're still at the scene."
"I hate the Secret Service," she growled, storming towards a squad car as they exited into the chilly night air of the parking garage.
Friday December 3rd 1993. M Street. 10:37 pm.
It was a familiar setting.
Police cars, yellow tape with large black writing, street lights, straggling onlookers, the crackle and murmur of walky-talkies, and the blinding, epileptic flash of red and blue lights.
Jenny and Munch ducked under the foreboding yellow police tape. She spotted an ambulance, lights flashing, already parked at the scene; two paramedics were blocking her view of the victim on the gurney.
"Hey, who are you two?" shouted an officer, blocking their way.
"SVU," barked Jenny, before Munch could respond. The younger officer glanced at her badge and held up his hands, backing off.
"You got the victim?" asked John.
Jenny nodded shortly.
"Find out which idiot didn't get the vic to a hospital," she muttered, maneuvering quickly through the federal personnel to reach the ambulance faster. She flashed her badge more than a few times, gritting her teeth in annoyance with each pause, and finally tapped a paramedic on the shoulder.
"Detective Shepard, DC SVU," she said a little more gently.
The man nodded and moved out of the way.
As usual, Jenny felt like she'd been punched in the gut when she saw the little girl curled up on the gurney. She swallowed stalwartly and squared her shoulders. The girl was covered in a blanket but still shivering.
"Name?" Jenny asked.
Someone shook their head 'no'.
Jenny reached out and placed a very gently hand on the girl's long, soft auburn hair. The little girl immediately flinched at the contact and Jenny eased her hand back a little.
"Hey, honey," she said quietly, gesturing to the back of the ambulance silently with a pointed glare. A few paramedics began readying the area to head to a hospital. Jenny looked back at the little girl. She opened her eyes. Jenny smiled at her.
"My name is Jenny," she said, stroking her hair soothingly. "I'm here to help you, okay? Can you tell me your name?" The girl, who looked to be about ten years old, responded incoherently and then shifted her head.
"I want Daddy," she said clearly.
Jenny nodded, reaching for the girl's small hand and holding it tightly.
"Secret service found a bag with her," Munch said quietly from behind. "Military ID in it. Looks old; it's from Camp Pendleton."
Jenny took the bag and placed it on the gurney, and then took the ID and tags Munch held out to her.
"You got statements?" she asked shortly.
"I'll ride with her," she said, and beckoned to the paramedic. "Take her to Bethesda, this ID is Marine Corp issue," she said firmly, and then nodded to the others to help get the gurney into the ambulance.
She shrugged off her coat and placed it on the little girl, tucking it around her as the put her in the back of the bus. Jenny got in after her, slamming the doors shut as she scanned the cute picture and the name on the military ID expertly.
Gibbs, Kelly Marie.
Jenny tucked the ID into her pocket and sat on the edge of the gurney, putting her hand on the little girl's back again.
"Kelly?" she asked nicely.
Kelly looked up at her, obviously recognizing her name. Jenny smiled again, the sad and confused, hurt look in her eyes tugging at the heartstrings.
"Kelly is a very pretty name," she said.
"Kelly green was my mommy's favorite colour," Kelly said shakily in a small voice.
Jenny smiled encouragingly. It was rare for kids this young to respond at all.
"How old are you, hon?" she asked quietly.
"Eight," was the quiet answer.
Jenny bit her lip, pushing down a flash of anger. It was sick, crimes like this being perpetrated on a child. Absolutely disgusting. She wasn't sure if this little girl knew what had happened to her. Some did, some didn't. And it was always hard, no matter what the case.
Jenny held up the dog tags that had been with Kelly's things.
"Are these your Daddy's?" she asked gently, still touching Kelly's hair to provide comfort. Kelly nodded slowly. She sat up and grasped Jenny's coat around her, her mouth trembling as she reached for them.
Kelly started crying. Jenny rubbed her shoulder soothingly and leaned forward, kissing the top of her head.
"I'll call him, honey, he'll come get you. Can you tell me his name? Let me get in touch with him? I know you want to see him," she soothed.
Kelly nodded, sniffling as she tried to muster the strength to answer. She spoke thickly and weakly through her tears, and Jenny felt another white-hot rush of anger.
"Leroy Jethro Gibbs."
Just a precautionary warning: I use rather harsh language flippantly in this story.
A side note: This is my first time writing any of the characters from SVU, so forgive me if that disintegrates into a massive failure. If I may have a little confidence in myself, I don't think they're too OoC, but by all means, let me know.