The Green Goddess
The Green Goddess
Disclaimer: I am neither Whedon nor Bellisario. I am just playing in their sandboxes.
Crossover: BTVS / NCIS. Years after "Chosen", adjusting the timeline a little. In this world, "Chosen" happened sometime before 9/11 (and thus the beginning of NCIS).
Spoilers: Whole series for BTVS. References to lots of NCIS episodes, mostly from seasons 1-3 and 6-7. Character deaths for Kate, Ari and Rivkin.
Timing: Set in NCIS, just after the season 7 premiere.
A/N: This was just an oddball plot idea I had for how to intro a character into NCIS. I may or may not continue it (hence it being listed complete), and anyone else is welcome to use it.
Aside from his house, his job, Tony, Abby, Ducky, and the recently completed boat in the basement he's named after his dead daughter, she had been the longest constant presence in his life.
He didn't recall exactly when it was that they'd first set eyes upon each other.
His... weathered, gunmetal, sniper's eyes, wise to the ways of the world and the evil that men could do, tempered by years in the Marine Corps and, by now, nearly as many behind the golden badge of NCIS. Hers... young, brilliant, emerald green eyes, as full of life as the lush green leaves of late spring, in every glance quietly communicating that life, truth, justice, and the American Way were going strong.
All the things he fought to protect, he saw in her eyes.
Perhaps it had been...
The night Kate had first joined the team in the field, shortly after the Air Force One case, when the paratrooper had the sabotaged parachute and landed on Lover's Lane.
Or the week he'd had to go 'back in time', back into the uniform, to catch the sniper gunning for Marine recruiters.
Or the week he'd first met Timothy McGee.
Or the morning before that bastard Ari Haswari had smuggled himself into NCIS itself and taken Ducky and Kate hostage in Autopsy. And escaped by shooting him in the shoulder.
The memory of that made him reach for the old wound, nearly six years healed now. Had it really been that long?
Or the week they'd been on that stakeout, Tony kissed the trans-sexual, and Agent Pocci had been murdered.
Now that he thought of it, he'd seen her all of those times. And more.
The day they'd rescued the little blind girl, kidnapped by her own father's henchman, she'd had a kind smile that matched his triumphant mood at getting the creep behind bars.
The time he'd had to work the case with Fornell and his crappy Panera coffee when the Mafia dumped one of Fornell's men in a Marine bombing range... alive. He'd savored the fact that his was better than Fornell's.
The week of the Iwo Jima case, it had been her look over the counter, and memories of another more intoxicating drink, that had let him to tricking the old Medal of Honor wearer with the Japanese lieutenant from the sushi house.
The shocked look on her face when, the morning after Ari killed Kate, he'd actually sat down, ignored the crowd, and begun to cry. She'd been the one who brought him a brownie, shoving it under his grim visage and nodding knowingly at the black strap across his badge. And the next day, she'd wrapped his cup with a black ribbon of mourning, and kept it up every day for a month.
The morning after Ziva killed Ari, he'd ordered a second cup, and she'd taken a break and come and sat down with him. It was the first time they'd traded any words beyond the parameters of her job. "He's dead. The bastard that killed Kate."
That had brought her to tears. Those leaf-green eyes, damp as a Washington rainforest at sunrise, befitting her name. She'd seen them all, at one time or other, of course - except for Ducky. At one time or another, everyone from NCIS seemed to come to her counter.
They didn't really have a relationship, per se. He wasn't even sure she knew his first name (everyone just called him by his surname, most of the time, anyway), and he didn't know her last name until once, in a fit of curiosity on a slow day, he'd had McGee hack the coffee company's payroll server. That had been... just before the trip out to L.A. this spring, when he'd seen Callen. And then all that Rivkin stuff had happened, and then...
It was the next morning after Ziva came back before he spoke to her again, beyond the usual pleasantries and such. Ziva was in the small storefront, looking distinctly uncomfortable while trying to keep her back to two walls at once. "Another of what she's having, as well. And one of those brownies you gave me when Kate died."
She nodded, and a few minutes later was sliding them across the counter. "I know that kind of loss. If there's anything I can do..."
He blinked. This young thing? He would never have imagined that she'd seen what he'd seen, lived what he'd lived... and yet, in that meeting of eyes, he knew it was true. Behind those young, bright emerald green eyes was a very old soul, one that had seen as much of the darkness and the wars as he had. Perhaps more. But somehow... she didn't wear it out where you could see it.
Like Ziva used to be.
A few minutes later, he was sliding the brownie and the drink up to Ziva, the same way she'd done with him four years and change before.
Later that night, he was climbing out of his car, and there she was. Standing on his porch. It was the first time he'd ever seen her outside the Starbuck's. But she still had on the black and green pseudo-uniform, minus the nametag. It looked good on her.
"We've never been properly introduced. I'm Dawn Summers. And I think I can help. And... I think I need your help as well."
"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. But, if you found my house, you know that. Please, co..."
She reached out and gently covered his mouth. "Don't invite me in. It's a bad habit. I'll follow you."