(no subject)

[cat_13145]

Title: Locking The Door After The Horse has bolted
Author Name: Cat_13145
Rating:  PG-13,
Category:  Friendship
Genre: Slash, (though could simply be read as friendship. I wrote it as slash, but...*shrugs*)
Pairing: Gibbs/Fornell
Summary: Fornell goes to visit an old friend.

Spoilers: None, I think.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: Off Screen death of major character.
Author's Notes: Having read all the Gibbs/Fornell fic out there, I decided to write my own. This is probably attempt one and the least slashy of the lot. I also got sick and tired of reading about the team going to pieces after Gibbs's death, so decided to write one where that didn't happen. My first attempt at this and unbetaed, so let me know if I've done anything massively wrong (I am currently trying to find a Gibbs/Fornell Icon I like, so please bear with me.).

“Hey Gibbs.”

The late afternoon sun was warm on his back, as he dusted the ground in front of the head stone and placed Gibb’s coffee mug there. He knew it looked weird, never bringing flowers, but Abby and the rest of the kids always brought enough for him. Beside their relationship never involved flowers before.

He poured a generous measure of Bourbon into the mug and held up his own flask.

“Cheers.”

He put the flask down.

“Sorry it’s been a while since I was here. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, at least not for the next couple of months.” He gave a short laugh. “Might be a pretty lonely couple of months too. Abby had her baby yesterday. They asked me to be the godfather.” He shook his head. “Told them it was your role, and you’d be there no matter what.

“it’s still slightly scary to think of McGee as a father, but he’s doing well. Head of Cybercrimes now, nearly missed the birth cause they were chasing some Traffickers across the borders. I asked him if he’ll ever go back into the field, he admitted he doesn’t think so, not at the moment, but he hasn’t completely ruled it out.

“Thought you should know, DiNutso and David have finally settled down into a proper relationship, rather than that fake marriage crap they had before. She was so surprised when I told her knew. Told her you can’t kid a kidder. Not sure she understood it entirely, but she got the basic idea.

“He made Captain, you know DiNutso, Ziva sent me the article last week from Chicago. Have to admit I was worry when he resigned from NCIS within a couple of weeks of your...Guess he didn’t want to be back on a boat.”

He paused, wandering what other news he should give, before coming to the main reason for his visit.

“Palmer passed his exams. Suspect Ducky told you that. Don’t think I don’t know about his visits here, I can smell the scotch!” He laughed slightly. “Probably didn’t tell you he’s retiring. No sign of...what happened to his mother yet, thank god, but the arthritis in his fingers...it’s getting worse. Soon he won’t be able to hold a scalpel. Said he’d rather leave now, before they are forced to retire him, and as Mr. Palmer is quite ready to take the autopsy so...” he shrugged. “Not sure what he’ll do, he’s talked a couple of times about heading back to England, but somehow I don’t see that happening.”

He swallowed. The next part was going to be hard.

“I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a battered leather wallet. “Told you I’d get it. He slipped up. Not here, California.” He paused, wandering how much he should tell the other man. “He tried pulling the same stunt he did on you on another guy, a college professor. ‘Cept this time the guy had left copies of what he suspected on his computer. “he laughed slightly. “Always told you you needed to learn to use one.

“Don Eppes, he was the guy in charge, recognised the similarities. Called us offering a joint investigation. Was on the next plane down there.” He shook his head. “Don’s a good kid. Wouldn’t let me near him. Just took me down to the gym and gave me a copy of his confession.” He paused. “Next thing I remember, I’ve got two agents holding on to me for dear life, and there’s a punching bag that looks like a wild animal was let loose on it.” He paused, fighting to keep calm. He had to do this. “The drug wasn’t in the bourbon as we thought. It was in the coffee. Bastard slipped it in when he was passing your desk. Not enough to knock you out or even really make you sleepy. He knew you’d take a shot of bourbon when you got home.” He was trembling down, fighting to keep control. “He was going just to leave you there. Passed out. Just as a warning to the rest of us. Then he discovered the door was unlocked.” He could still smell the stench of burning flesh, still feel Sack’s hands on his arms, holding him back, still hear the stratifying crack the local coroner’s nose made as he talked about depression and Viking funeral.

He could see the kid’s reactions. Tony automatically slipping into a Cop’s role, taking control of the situation, demanding NCIS jurisdiction. Ziva breaking down, the only time he’d ever seen her do that. McGee just standing there, frozen, until it came for someone to break the news to Abby, then insisting it should be him. Ducky looking like he’d aged about 100 years overnight, barely able to hold the scalpel. Palmer having to take over the autopsy. And that Bastard’s cruel face smiling at them all.

“Dam It, Gibbs! Why couldn’t you, Just Once, have locked your door?”