Coming Home OR How David Sinclair Ended Up Working For the FBIAuthor:
brief mention of David/OFCCrossovers:
NCIS, Veronica Mars, slight 24 (maybe, if you squint)Rating:
PG-13 (one swear word)Word Count:
Not mine.Summery: David had been recruited right after his stint in Tel Aviv, before he even had a chance to apply to the Bureau. Authors Note:
I haven't written any Numb3rs fic before, so this is my Cherry piece. I tried to give David Sinclair a background, a story of how he came to work for the FBI. I hope it works.Additional Note:
Wrote this in a timed setting, and was unable to go back and edit it. I'm not sure I like how it turned out, but I only had an hour.I.
David had been recruited right after his stint in Tel Aviv, before he even had a chance to apply to the Bureau. One of the people he’d known in Israel had transferred over to NCIS (and what the fuck was that, anyway? He’d never even heard of them) and by virtue of knowing absolutely nothing about the chain of command and military mindset, David decided that there would be worse places to work, and at least he already knew somebody within the organization.
So, he agreed. The head of the team was a young guy, Dinozzo, and Ziva spoke highly of him. Given the length of time David had known Ziva, and how often she spoke highly of anybody, he took it to mean that Dinozzo wasn’t a screw up and that he’d learn a lot working for him. And he did.
The team was small, which David appreciated, and they were knowledgeable about everything, especially the lab tech who was the coolest Goth chick David had ever met, even cooler then Gracie from college, whom he’d dated exactly four times and fucked twice before he decided that she wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Abby though—Abby was a real piece of work: she had a killer sense of humor, and a hippo that farted whenever you hugged him. Plus, she slept in a coffin.
David decided shortly after meeting her that Abby was the younger sister he’d never particularly wanted or needed, but now that he knew her he couldn’t even imagine his life without her. The same couldn’t be said about the rest of the team, through.
Dinozzo was young, and he didn’t particularly want to be in charge (he was waiting for some guy named Gibbs to come back), but he was good enough at what he did that the director came to him for personal favors. Dinozzo snapped a lot, drank enough coffee to give himself an ulcer, and spent every night of the week with a different female. Not somebody that David wanted to emulate.
And Ziva—she defied all explanations. He’d met her in Tel Aviv, when she worked for Mossad and was considered to be the top assassin the organization had going for them. David was just there defusing bombs and learning enough about how the Israeli combated terrorism to know that it might be affective, but it wouldn’t work in the US. He’d said as much to Ziva, and she agreed.
They’d never become friends, per say, but rather were friendly acquaintances that would nod in passing and tell a joke to one-another if they were trapped in an elevator. And then she disappeared, and word was that her brother had been killed, but nobody said how.
David wasn’t foolish enough to ask, not after he saw what she could do in a fight. Instead, he settled for telling jokes and learning from Dinozzo and flirtingly lightly with Abby who still was the coolest Goth chick he had ever met. If part of him wondered what it would be like to be on a team that didn’t keep secrets, he kept that hidden. It wasn’t necessary to know everything to get the job done, and that was what David wanted—to get the job done.II.
Months after joining NCIS, David was approached by the CIA. They wanted an operative that had been in terrorist situations to try and infiltrate a suspected Islamic cell, and they thought David would be good for the job. He had knowledge of explosives from his time in Israel, was about to be transferred to another team at NCIS (which he hadn’t known, but wasn’t particularly surprised by, now that Gibbs was back), and was Black.
The CIA thought that if David was arrested for tampering with evidence, or destroying evidence in a suspected terrorist related event, he’d be a shoe-in. He could join the Black Muslims in the suspected prison, and after a few months of carefully controlled/expressed outrage with the government and converting to Islam, he’d be accepted.
David said no—he didn’t want undercover work, especially work that put him in jail for a good portion of the year. He didn’t want to express anger at his country, or ruin his name with his colleagues.
The CIA wasn’t impressed, so they asked again. Then they went to his supervisor. Gibbs even said no, that it was up to the agent in question to decide if they wanted to go on undercover work. When the CIA went to the head of NCIS for the reassignment, David knew something was up. He was even more aware that something was up when Jenny said yes to them.
David still said no, and quit NCIS, effective immediately. He had enough money saved up to go back to school; get a master’s degree in something that would help him along. So he moved to Neptune, California.III.
Hearst College didn’t offer many graduate programs, but the ones they did offer were excellent. Their criminology curriculum was the top-ranked in the state, and they offered a surprising amount of financial aid for a private school.
David enjoyed Neptune, California. He liked having the beach close by, in case he ever wanted to learn how to surf. He enjoyed the small-town feel coupled with the knowledge that LA was a scant hour or two away by car. He even liked how there were two private investigators, one of which was hiring.
That was how David began his second life after Tel Aviv—taking classes by day and trailing cheating spouses by night. He got paid for every “money” shot he took, in addition to a weekly salary. Plus, Keith Mars wasn’t a bad man to work for. He used to be Sheriff, according to the papers, and had his life threatened and been nearly killed by an actor when David was overseas. His daughter had even been involved, some blonde named Veronica.
It was during a guest lecture in his Statistical Criminology class that David was reminded of how badly he’d wanted to be an FBI agent growing up. The guy that came in—a Colby Granger—was an FBI agent up in LA. He spoke about the different cases they solved, and how often mathematics had come into play.
David could understand that math was important, vital in some cases, but just by listening to Granger speak, he realized exactly what he’d been missing out on. That was when he decided to apply to the Bureau as soon as he graduated. With any luck, the CIA hadn’t put some type of mark on his record that would allow him to work for the government still, even if it was a different agency.
David still kept in touch with some people from D.C.—Abby in particular. She would email him amusing anecdotes of cases the team had solved recently, and David forwarded her copies of all his papers a week before they were due, because Abby would not only edit them, but email back articles she read that could somehow tie into the subject matter, along with real case files.
David always got A’s on his papers, with notes from the professors about his excellent sources and his well-honed mind. It was actually one of his professors that arranged for David to have an internship in LA with a regional FBI office. Hank Landry—brilliant man, if you listened to the hype.
Veronica had told David about the internship offer from Landry, and why she didn’t want to take it. David didn’t say a word to her, but he casually called Abby and suggested that NCIS take this young thing in for the summer, teach her about the trials and tribulations of Naval Criminal Investigative Services and why they were a better fit for her, instead of the FBI.
David didn’t begrudge anybody who wanted to work for the government, but he knew Veronica, and he knew the FBI. She was far too fluid and self-motivated to work well in such a hierarchical environment. NCIS, with its family-like teams and the good-humor, were much more her style.
When she received the offer, Veronica was practically over the moon. It was a two-summer internship, followed by a fellowship and then a job if she performed well. She called Agent Gibbs to ask how he got her information, but he didn’t say.
David sent Abby a bouquet of black roses, and Gibbs a package of the finest coffee he could afford on his not-quite-shoestring budget. It was good to know he still had friends in D.C., despite the way he had left.
When David got home that evening, a letter was waiting for him on his front porch. He opened the letter, and wasn’t surprised to see Keith had left it. It thanked him for his daughter, who still didn’t know how NCIS had found out about her. David smiled to himself and went inside. Things were looking up.IV.
Interning in LA wasn’t quite what David had expected. He filed a lot of paperwork, met with various agents that told him what type of coffee they wanted (and where they wanted it from—be it Starbucks, Coffee Bean, Seattle’s Best, or the little place down the street that he couldn’t remember the name of), and watched Don Eppes and his team from the corner of the room.
Part of David kept thinking, “if only I’d joined the FBI instead of NCIS” but the past was the past. He loved Hearst, he enjoyed the friends he made, and he wasn’t sure he’d trade his current life for anything. Still—he wanted to be an agent. So he sucked up all his whining and got coffee for the different agents, and watched Eppes and his brother solve case after case.
He didn’t know much about math, but he understands criminal profiling, and honest detective work. It was one of the things Dinozzo (then Gibbs) advocated—solid work: sketching crime scenes, taking photographs, labeling everything. If every detail is done correctly, then it’s easier to see the larger picture.
The first time he’s taken to a crime scene, he bring along a sketchpad. Megan Reeves looks at him, considers him strange. Eppes just shakes his head. Oddly enough, it’s Eppes brother Charlie that understands what David is doing, and they chat about it for a couple of seconds before Charlie wanders off to do his genius math work.
The case is solved, without utilizing the sketches, but David doesn’t mind. He learned the basics of fieldwork from NCIS, and he isn’t going to give up his hard-won knowledge.
He gets an email from Veronica, telling him how much she loves D.C. and how NCIS is using her skills already. She isn’t allowed to wander around crime scenes like he’s doing, but she can watch how the team works, and offer her own suggestions as to motivations and “next steps”. McGee is teaching her more about computer manipulation, and she has provided McGee with tales from her high school and its Purity Tests, among other things.
She finally closes the email with a thank you, and he feels better. He doesn’t exactly love his FBI internship thus far, but he’s glad Veronica is enjoying NCIS so much. He knew they would be a good match for one another.V.
When David saw Tobias Fornell walk into the LA office, he had a brief flashback to his NCIS days. He knows that the Eppes knows about his work in D.C., there was no way he could have an internship in the main LA office without a couple of different background checks being run, but he isn’t sure that Eppes actually paid attention to what the reports said.
So when he saw Fornell walk into the office, he thinks about NCIS and Dinozzo (and briefly Gibbs) and Abby, and knows that as much as he had enjoyed the work out there, he’d rather be where he is now. Fornell spots him and walks over, hauls him into a huge hug and just smiles at him.
“Been a while, Agent,” Fornell greets him, and David smiles.
“Sure has, sir.”
“Heard what happened with the CIA—you should be glad you turned that down. Ended up going bad, couple of agents were killed.”
“Sorry to hear that.” David responds, again glad that he had turned down the assignment had ultimately changed his entire life. “How’s your daughter?”
“She’s good.” Fornell is standing there now, staring at him, and David feels a little exposed. The others in the office are watching, eyes open. They had no clue how this intern knew Senior Agent Fornell, but it was obvious they went back. “That blonde you sent Gibbs is keeping him on his toes.”
“Veronica can do that.” David replies. “I’ve only known her a year, and she still surprises me.”
“Yeah, well. It’s funny as hell, watching her manipulate people, trying to get on active cases.” This causes David to smile—he can see her doing that, trying to solve cases on her own and being told off for her imitative by Gibbs, before he asks what method she used and what she found out.
“I heard you went back to school—what’re you doing with these idiots?” Fornell asks, gesturing around.
David grins full out at this—“Interning, actually. Want to work for the Bureau when I graduate, so I figured a bit of advance work wouldn’t be horribly wrong.”
“You’re interning.” Fornell coughs, loudly. “You realize that NCIS would take you back the second you want it; that Ziva recommended you to Mossad as a terrorism expert in case you want to relocate; hell, I always have room on my team if you want to join the Bureau.”
David hadn’t known most of that—considered most of that in his past, and he seldom thought of his past. Second pass: “No, actually,” David finally responds.
Fornell smiles and nods. “Say the word, Agent, and you have yourself a job here.”
“Here, sir?” David questions.
At this, Don Eppes walks out of his office and sees Fornell. “Director,” Don greets Fornell, and David stares at the two of them.
“Director Fornell?” David’s voice questions.