Good Intelligence (15/?, R, NCIS/The Closer, Jenny/Brenda,Gibbs/Sharon)
Author: JoelTheCat
Rating: R for discussion of maybe doing things that would really be out of character
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jenny Shepard/Brenda Leigh Johnson and Sharon Raydor/Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Genre: adventure with touches of femslash
Warning: the dub-con's over, but the talking about it isn't
Spoilers: NCIS through season 5. Whole run of The Closer, which may well have aired by the time I'm done :-)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Notes: Timelines totally skewed in the quest for quality femslash and because Gibbs likes redheads.
Summary: The danger from Brenda's past may not have nearly the impact on her life as the old friend who shows up to protect her.
Word Count: 1051
"Is something wrong, Director?" asked DiNozzo.
"I think our protectee just gained a new appreciation for the tactical situation," Jenny told him.
"We should be elsewhere," said Ducky. "And if we have to move quickly, that woman is going to slow us down."
"We're not leaving her behind," said Gibbs.
"We can't afford to," the doctor said.
"Why?" asked Chief Pope. "She should be in a hospital anyway. Or I could take her to Simon... her son, the doctor."
"She would be interrogated," said Ziva. "They both would. You too, if you were caught."
"In her condition," said Ducky, "this sort of interrogation will kill her, even if she tells everything she knows immediately. And what she no doubt knows...."
"We," said Ziva, "would be trading the protectee's life for hers, with no guarantee that she will survive in any case."
"Wait a minute," said Pope. "Life?"
"Did you think we were protecting Brenda from a hangnail?" Jenny asked him. "Let me lay it out for you, Chief. The Russians want Brenda because of something she learned during an interrogation a couple of decades ago, and even Brenda doesn't know exactly what that is. The allied intelligence community doesn't want the Russians to get that information, and the easiest way to stop them is to eliminate the information, probably with a sniper rifle. Is that clear enough for you?"
"The CIA...?" said Detective... Jenny groped for the name...right, Detective Gabriel, like the angel. "The CIA is trying to kill the Chief? But she was one of them!"
It was the same incredulity that Brenda herself had had, when the young subject of one of her interrogations had been carelessly disposed of so that she became aware of it. Brenda had called, and Jenny had come running to a place that didn't exist. Her ID had gained her access, and Brenda had flown into her arms like a frightened child fleeing to its mother.
Interrogators were more valuable than field agents. Their talents were rarer, and Brenda was talented beyond belief. Jenny was reassigned, given the care of Brenda Leigh Johnson. The first night they hadn't slept at all, only paused between languid couplings. On the next night, Brenda woke up screaming in Dari and then cried in Jenny's arms the rest of the night.
"Take her to Washington," Jenny had been told. "Turn her over to the cleanup crew."
Just like that, Brenda went from asset to liability. That night it was Jenny who had the bad dreams.
"Director?" Chief Pope's hand was on her arm, and he was glaring down at her. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
"I'm not suggesting anything, Chief. I'm assessing the situation."
"Well, assess this: in Los Angeles, if you conspire, before or after the fact, in the rape and murder of a police officer, you spend the rest of your life on Death Row and at the end the observation booth will be crowded with people now standing in this room."
"Nobody raped anybody," said Gibbs, "and nobody... I was a Marine. We don't leave people behind."
"I was, too," said Detective Sanchez, moving to stand beside Gibbs. "And that means nobody, not even Captain Raydor."
"What did she do to get you all so down on her?" asked DiNozzo.
"Internal affairs," said Gabriel.
"Oh," said Tony. "I feel your pain." He looked up at Gibbs. "Still not leaving her, though."
"Everyone understand:" Jenny said. "Leaving this woman behind is not what we're discussing. We're talking about how to spare her an interrogation with people whose methods are purely horrific, people who will have no reason to keep her alive afterward."
"This woman has a name!" said Gibbs. "It's Sharon! Use it, when you talk about what you're going to do to her!"
"She... Sharon has three children and four grandchildren," said Pope, "and medals from before most of you were born."
"She drove three downed officers out of the Rodney King riots with a bullet in her leg and people shooting at her," said Provenza, "cussing the stick shift all the way."
"And you know this how?" asked Gabriel.
"I was one of them," Provenza answered. He stood up and slouched over to stand beside Gibbs and Sanchez, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. One by one the rest of Brenda's team joined them, and then McGee and DiNozzo.
"All right," said Jenny, "but if we're going to try to save them both," she told Pope, "we need to move. We need to be somewhere nobody knows about, and I mean nobody, and we have to do it in a way no one can trace."
"Chief Johnson's parents' motor home is in storage here," said Flynn, "from when we...."
Pope glared at him, and the man stumbled into silence.
"That might work," Jenny said. "Can you get it? Fill up whatever needs filled? And everybody, get to a bank and get as much cash as you can before we start."
"That's going to send up red flags," said McGee.
Pope's cell phone buzzed. He peered at the message.
"Fritz," he said. "He's at Ontario."
"I thought you didn't know where to find him," said Jenny.
"Ontario, Canada?" asked Ziva.
"Ontario airport," said Lieutenant... Brenda had too many lieutenants working for her, but this was the Chinese one, Lieutenant Tao. "Off the ten halfway to San Bernardino," he finished.
"That will do," said Jenny. "If we leave your cars there, there's a chance people will assume we flew out. Get the money and the motor home and rendezvous at the airport in three hours. And nobody tell anybody anything, not wife, not girlfriend, not anybody."
One of Sharon's dogs whined.
"Are we bringing them?" Jenny asked.
"Them," said Pope, "and Joel." He stretched a long arm up to the top of the refrigerator, lifted the surprised orange cat and tucked it into his jacket.
"Okay, people," said Gibbs, "get the bathing beauties out of the shower and let's move!"
Rating: R for discussion of maybe doing things that would really be out of character
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jenny Shepard/Brenda Leigh Johnson and Sharon Raydor/Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Genre: adventure with touches of femslash
Warning: the dub-con's over, but the talking about it isn't
Spoilers: NCIS through season 5. Whole run of The Closer, which may well have aired by the time I'm done :-)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Notes: Timelines totally skewed in the quest for quality femslash and because Gibbs likes redheads.
Summary: The danger from Brenda's past may not have nearly the impact on her life as the old friend who shows up to protect her.
Word Count: 1051
"Is something wrong, Director?" asked DiNozzo.
"I think our protectee just gained a new appreciation for the tactical situation," Jenny told him.
"We should be elsewhere," said Ducky. "And if we have to move quickly, that woman is going to slow us down."
"We're not leaving her behind," said Gibbs.
"We can't afford to," the doctor said.
"Why?" asked Chief Pope. "She should be in a hospital anyway. Or I could take her to Simon... her son, the doctor."
"She would be interrogated," said Ziva. "They both would. You too, if you were caught."
"In her condition," said Ducky, "this sort of interrogation will kill her, even if she tells everything she knows immediately. And what she no doubt knows...."
"We," said Ziva, "would be trading the protectee's life for hers, with no guarantee that she will survive in any case."
"Wait a minute," said Pope. "Life?"
"Did you think we were protecting Brenda from a hangnail?" Jenny asked him. "Let me lay it out for you, Chief. The Russians want Brenda because of something she learned during an interrogation a couple of decades ago, and even Brenda doesn't know exactly what that is. The allied intelligence community doesn't want the Russians to get that information, and the easiest way to stop them is to eliminate the information, probably with a sniper rifle. Is that clear enough for you?"
"The CIA...?" said Detective... Jenny groped for the name...right, Detective Gabriel, like the angel. "The CIA is trying to kill the Chief? But she was one of them!"
It was the same incredulity that Brenda herself had had, when the young subject of one of her interrogations had been carelessly disposed of so that she became aware of it. Brenda had called, and Jenny had come running to a place that didn't exist. Her ID had gained her access, and Brenda had flown into her arms like a frightened child fleeing to its mother.
Interrogators were more valuable than field agents. Their talents were rarer, and Brenda was talented beyond belief. Jenny was reassigned, given the care of Brenda Leigh Johnson. The first night they hadn't slept at all, only paused between languid couplings. On the next night, Brenda woke up screaming in Dari and then cried in Jenny's arms the rest of the night.
"Take her to Washington," Jenny had been told. "Turn her over to the cleanup crew."
Just like that, Brenda went from asset to liability. That night it was Jenny who had the bad dreams.
"Director?" Chief Pope's hand was on her arm, and he was glaring down at her. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
"I'm not suggesting anything, Chief. I'm assessing the situation."
"Well, assess this: in Los Angeles, if you conspire, before or after the fact, in the rape and murder of a police officer, you spend the rest of your life on Death Row and at the end the observation booth will be crowded with people now standing in this room."
"Nobody raped anybody," said Gibbs, "and nobody... I was a Marine. We don't leave people behind."
"I was, too," said Detective Sanchez, moving to stand beside Gibbs. "And that means nobody, not even Captain Raydor."
"What did she do to get you all so down on her?" asked DiNozzo.
"Internal affairs," said Gabriel.
"Oh," said Tony. "I feel your pain." He looked up at Gibbs. "Still not leaving her, though."
"Everyone understand:" Jenny said. "Leaving this woman behind is not what we're discussing. We're talking about how to spare her an interrogation with people whose methods are purely horrific, people who will have no reason to keep her alive afterward."
"This woman has a name!" said Gibbs. "It's Sharon! Use it, when you talk about what you're going to do to her!"
"She... Sharon has three children and four grandchildren," said Pope, "and medals from before most of you were born."
"She drove three downed officers out of the Rodney King riots with a bullet in her leg and people shooting at her," said Provenza, "cussing the stick shift all the way."
"And you know this how?" asked Gabriel.
"I was one of them," Provenza answered. He stood up and slouched over to stand beside Gibbs and Sanchez, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. One by one the rest of Brenda's team joined them, and then McGee and DiNozzo.
"All right," said Jenny, "but if we're going to try to save them both," she told Pope, "we need to move. We need to be somewhere nobody knows about, and I mean nobody, and we have to do it in a way no one can trace."
"Chief Johnson's parents' motor home is in storage here," said Flynn, "from when we...."
Pope glared at him, and the man stumbled into silence.
"That might work," Jenny said. "Can you get it? Fill up whatever needs filled? And everybody, get to a bank and get as much cash as you can before we start."
"That's going to send up red flags," said McGee.
Pope's cell phone buzzed. He peered at the message.
"Fritz," he said. "He's at Ontario."
"I thought you didn't know where to find him," said Jenny.
"Ontario, Canada?" asked Ziva.
"Ontario airport," said Lieutenant... Brenda had too many lieutenants working for her, but this was the Chinese one, Lieutenant Tao. "Off the ten halfway to San Bernardino," he finished.
"That will do," said Jenny. "If we leave your cars there, there's a chance people will assume we flew out. Get the money and the motor home and rendezvous at the airport in three hours. And nobody tell anybody anything, not wife, not girlfriend, not anybody."
One of Sharon's dogs whined.
"Are we bringing them?" Jenny asked.
"Them," said Pope, "and Joel." He stretched a long arm up to the top of the refrigerator, lifted the surprised orange cat and tucked it into his jacket.
"Okay, people," said Gibbs, "get the bathing beauties out of the shower and let's move!"