Sheppard Goes to Washington
After Stargate Atlantis AU
NCIS/SGA crossover featuring John Sheppard and Jethro Gibbs
"Agent Sheppard," called a hard voice.
The newly minted NCIS agent looked up to see the man, the legend, the barking voice that was Jethro Gibbs. He would've made an unflattering correlation to Patrick Sheppard's own bark, but after seeing Tony DiNozzo, Ziva David and Abby Sciuto, Sheppard figured there were enough 'daddy issues' already in play. "Agent Gibbs."
"Do you have a problem with securing your weapon?" The man, the legend slurped at a coffee cup in his hand. It looked like an extra large.
Sheppard tilted his head and mentally reviewed how he got to his desk and then looked down. Huh. His weapon was still in his black leather shoulder holster, clearly visible since his jacket was thrown across the back of his desk chair.
Civilian duty sucked. First, they wouldn't let him use a thigh holster. Sheppard didn't know what the big deal was. It was easy, it was comfortable, and it was what he was used to. Second, why not be able to carry your weapon at headquarters? They were all grown ups. They were the good guys. What if the bad guys decided to attack the building? According to what he'd heard about Gibbs' team, it wouldn't be the first, second, third, or fourth time someone tried to take them out inside their own building.
Hell if he'd be caught off guard.
"Do you have a problem, Agent Sheppard?" came the hard voice again. More glaring, less slurping.
Sheppard looked up into a firm glare. Marines, you had to love them. Or send them out on long, long runs in deep mud. And let them blow some crap up to take the edge off, not that Sheppard had anything against big bangs. Then you had to turn your back while they 'smuggled' beer onto the base to hold them over until the next supply run. And then act flabbergasted when an 'extra' case of beer was left in your room in thanks for not being an uptight, desk bound zoomie bastard.
Sheppard knew Marines. He also knew how to push some of their buttons. "No, sir. I don't have a problem . . . sir."
"Don't you call me—"
Sheppard held down his snort. This was a new job, in a new place. Gibbs was the second highest bastard in the ranks. He really shouldn't be pissing him off his first month at NCIS. Especially since he had another six months being TDY to Gibbs' team.
"Gibbs, I've only been on the job for two weeks. My last duty assignment, I served out of country in a war zone for six years before being punted due to something very, very classified. You're going to have to give me a little time to get used to not having a weapon close to hand 24/7."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes and then raked over Sheppard with a frank assessment. "Your desk drawer is close at hand, Sheppard."
"Not if I'm in the little pilot's room."
It probably didn't help Sheppard that Tony DiNozzo laughed at that. When Gibbs turned to give DiNozzo a frozen look, DiNozzo probably figured out that it hadn't helped him either.
"Secure your weapon, Sheppard, or next time, I'll secure it for you."
Sheppard's lips twitched. He was used to being beat to hell by Ronon and Teyla on a daily basis, Wraith trying to eat him at every turn and allies becoming enemies overnight. A man sixteen years his senior threatening him with bodily harm in an office building on Earth was almost . . . precious. "Yes, sir. I'll get right on it, sir."
Gibbs raised his top lip in a snarl and stalked away, his head held high and his coffee cold.
Yeap, going to be a great six months, thought Sheppard as he opened up his e-mail account to send a fart joke to McKay.