Memories of Mumbai, NCIS
Title Memories of Mumbai
Author- cornerofmadness
Fandom NCIS
Disclaimer I don’t own it.
Rating PG -13
Characters/Pairing Tim pov, Tim & Abby
Timeline/Spoilers set this year but no spoilers for anything
Word Count 1000
Warning none
Summary He felt like he knew her, felt almost too close to her.
Author’s Note written for picfor1000 for this picture
. Thanks to Evil_little_dog for the beta.
XXX
Tim couldn’t quite get her out of his mind. Normally, he eschewed the morgue unless he had no choice. He’d never be as comfortable with dead bodies as Ducky and Palmer. Sonal Gupta, wife of Captain Adam Butler and former Bollywood star, lay on one of the tables. Tim had surprised everyone by knowing her movies when Tony hadn’t - something DiNozzo immediately rectified.
Tim loved the Bollywood movies, especially the music and the sheer color of the clothing. Vibrant reds, stunning sapphires, glittering golds, they entranced him as the dancers made them swirl. He had a particularly vivid memory of Sonal in a green sari that made the cinnamon of her skin seem so warm. Now the warmth was gone, a lifeless waxiness in its place.
“The tilaka on her forehead was considered connected to her husband’s life line. Butler should have remembered that. Mostly though, the tilaka is just decoration now.”
“You scared me, Abby. You don’t usually come down here.” Tim scowled.
“Me? You avoid this place like it has the plague, which okay, it did once.” Abby came over, close enough he could smell her Jazz Funeral perfume. “You okay?”
Tim sighed. Lying to Abby never worked. “Not really. I liked her, Abby, really liked her. I know that’s silly. It’s not like I knew her.”
“So? It’s not like you’d be the first person to feel that way about a celebrity.” She patted his arm. “Remember your man crush on Gene Roddenberry? How many people have crushes on Tom Gemcity?”
“Too many. Some of them are a little scary,” he admitted. “It just feels odd to be so torn up over someone I knew from their movies.”
“If it helps, I’m pretty sad that Brian Jacques died yesterday.”
“What? Man, I didn’t know that. Now I’m doubly depressed.” Tim’s shoulders sagged.
“I know. I loved the Redwall series.” Abby hugged him, kissing his cheek. “You’ll get the guy who did this, Tim. You guys always do.”
“Thanks, Abby. I am making it a mission to get this guy.” Tim frowned. “That would have sounded tougher coming out of Tony’s mouth.”
“I think it was plenty tough. Come on.” Abby grabbed his wrist, giving him a gentle pull. “I came to find you because her computer was brought over today. I could use help going through it.”
He gave her a grateful smile and let her lead him back up to the sanctuary of her lab.
XXX
“This is no good.” Tim stretched until his shoulders popped.
“Need a Caff-Pow?” Abby turned from her mass spectrometer to look at him.
“No, that’s not the problem. I’m getting too sucked into reading about Sonal’s life.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Abby asked.
“Not to this level. I should be skimming, trying to find something that helps us, not getting bogged down in every detail of her life.”
“You need a break, McGee. Maybe you should try searching…whatever it is you usually search.”
Tim nodded. “Bank and phone records.”
“Fun.” She offered up a wry grin.
He shrugged and went over to her computer. There wasn’t anything stimulating about either search, but often they would offer up a tantalizing clue. Something they could sink their teeth into. This time, it showed that Sonal gave a lot of money to women’s charities. He made notes of which ones to check up on later. The phone calls showed enough communication between Sonal and Janice Hurley to make him curious. Hurley would have to be their next stop. Listless, Tim ran Hurley’s name. She was a professor of women’s studies at a local college.
“I see something of a pattern here,” he told Abby.”
“Oh?”
“Money to women’s charities, especially to help abused women, and a litany of conversations with someone in women’s studies. Has Ducky ordered full body X-rays to check for old fractures?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Tim nodded. “I’m going to take this to Gibbs.”
“All right. I’ll start looking through the journals for you,” Abby offered.
“Thanks.”
XXX
Tim sat back, listening to the strains of Chaiyya Chaiyya echoing out of the TV while he picked at his shahi paneer.
Abby leaned against him, pushing her bowl under his nose. “Try one of these gulab jamun things.”
He humored her, the rose sugar syrup exploding in his mouth as he bit into the fried dough ball. The sweetness did nothing to lift his mood. He and Ziva had visited Dr. Hurley, who had been slightly hostile to him. At least she found a release in Ziva, telling them that Sonal had been ashamed of the abusive relationship she felt trapped in and embarrassment over thinking about a divorce. It hadn’t taken long for Gibbs to break Captain Butler with the facts about the impending divorce, the loss of Sonal’s lucrative career and the payoff expected from her life insurance. Tim watched Sonal’s image swaying to the music on the TV screen, sighing.
Abby laid a hand on his leg. “You did right by her, Timmy.”
“I know but, sometimes I just get tired of all the ugly, Abby.” Tim set his dinner aside. “And then I come home and write mysteries. What does that say about me?”
“It tells me you’re good at what you do and you care a lot about people. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled a darkly painted smile at him.
He returned it with interest. “Thanks, Abby. You always know what to say. Thanks for bringing dinner, too. I’ve never really eaten a lot of Indian food. This is good. Wish I were in a better mood for it.”
“We can always do it again when the storm clouds blow from your mind.”
Tim smiled again and settled back with her, snagging another gulab jamun. Maybe he did care too much. Abby was probably right. It made him good at his job. At the end of the day, he should be proud of himself. Sonal’s killer would face justice. Tonight, he could relax.
Author- cornerofmadness
Fandom NCIS
Disclaimer I don’t own it.
Rating PG -13
Characters/Pairing Tim pov, Tim & Abby
Timeline/Spoilers set this year but no spoilers for anything
Word Count 1000
Warning none
Summary He felt like he knew her, felt almost too close to her.
Author’s Note written for picfor1000 for this picture
. Thanks to Evil_little_dog for the beta.
XXX
Tim couldn’t quite get her out of his mind. Normally, he eschewed the morgue unless he had no choice. He’d never be as comfortable with dead bodies as Ducky and Palmer. Sonal Gupta, wife of Captain Adam Butler and former Bollywood star, lay on one of the tables. Tim had surprised everyone by knowing her movies when Tony hadn’t - something DiNozzo immediately rectified.
Tim loved the Bollywood movies, especially the music and the sheer color of the clothing. Vibrant reds, stunning sapphires, glittering golds, they entranced him as the dancers made them swirl. He had a particularly vivid memory of Sonal in a green sari that made the cinnamon of her skin seem so warm. Now the warmth was gone, a lifeless waxiness in its place.
“The tilaka on her forehead was considered connected to her husband’s life line. Butler should have remembered that. Mostly though, the tilaka is just decoration now.”
“You scared me, Abby. You don’t usually come down here.” Tim scowled.
“Me? You avoid this place like it has the plague, which okay, it did once.” Abby came over, close enough he could smell her Jazz Funeral perfume. “You okay?”
Tim sighed. Lying to Abby never worked. “Not really. I liked her, Abby, really liked her. I know that’s silly. It’s not like I knew her.”
“So? It’s not like you’d be the first person to feel that way about a celebrity.” She patted his arm. “Remember your man crush on Gene Roddenberry? How many people have crushes on Tom Gemcity?”
“Too many. Some of them are a little scary,” he admitted. “It just feels odd to be so torn up over someone I knew from their movies.”
“If it helps, I’m pretty sad that Brian Jacques died yesterday.”
“What? Man, I didn’t know that. Now I’m doubly depressed.” Tim’s shoulders sagged.
“I know. I loved the Redwall series.” Abby hugged him, kissing his cheek. “You’ll get the guy who did this, Tim. You guys always do.”
“Thanks, Abby. I am making it a mission to get this guy.” Tim frowned. “That would have sounded tougher coming out of Tony’s mouth.”
“I think it was plenty tough. Come on.” Abby grabbed his wrist, giving him a gentle pull. “I came to find you because her computer was brought over today. I could use help going through it.”
He gave her a grateful smile and let her lead him back up to the sanctuary of her lab.
XXX
“This is no good.” Tim stretched until his shoulders popped.
“Need a Caff-Pow?” Abby turned from her mass spectrometer to look at him.
“No, that’s not the problem. I’m getting too sucked into reading about Sonal’s life.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Abby asked.
“Not to this level. I should be skimming, trying to find something that helps us, not getting bogged down in every detail of her life.”
“You need a break, McGee. Maybe you should try searching…whatever it is you usually search.”
Tim nodded. “Bank and phone records.”
“Fun.” She offered up a wry grin.
He shrugged and went over to her computer. There wasn’t anything stimulating about either search, but often they would offer up a tantalizing clue. Something they could sink their teeth into. This time, it showed that Sonal gave a lot of money to women’s charities. He made notes of which ones to check up on later. The phone calls showed enough communication between Sonal and Janice Hurley to make him curious. Hurley would have to be their next stop. Listless, Tim ran Hurley’s name. She was a professor of women’s studies at a local college.
“I see something of a pattern here,” he told Abby.”
“Oh?”
“Money to women’s charities, especially to help abused women, and a litany of conversations with someone in women’s studies. Has Ducky ordered full body X-rays to check for old fractures?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Tim nodded. “I’m going to take this to Gibbs.”
“All right. I’ll start looking through the journals for you,” Abby offered.
“Thanks.”
XXX
Tim sat back, listening to the strains of Chaiyya Chaiyya echoing out of the TV while he picked at his shahi paneer.
Abby leaned against him, pushing her bowl under his nose. “Try one of these gulab jamun things.”
He humored her, the rose sugar syrup exploding in his mouth as he bit into the fried dough ball. The sweetness did nothing to lift his mood. He and Ziva had visited Dr. Hurley, who had been slightly hostile to him. At least she found a release in Ziva, telling them that Sonal had been ashamed of the abusive relationship she felt trapped in and embarrassment over thinking about a divorce. It hadn’t taken long for Gibbs to break Captain Butler with the facts about the impending divorce, the loss of Sonal’s lucrative career and the payoff expected from her life insurance. Tim watched Sonal’s image swaying to the music on the TV screen, sighing.
Abby laid a hand on his leg. “You did right by her, Timmy.”
“I know but, sometimes I just get tired of all the ugly, Abby.” Tim set his dinner aside. “And then I come home and write mysteries. What does that say about me?”
“It tells me you’re good at what you do and you care a lot about people. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled a darkly painted smile at him.
He returned it with interest. “Thanks, Abby. You always know what to say. Thanks for bringing dinner, too. I’ve never really eaten a lot of Indian food. This is good. Wish I were in a better mood for it.”
“We can always do it again when the storm clouds blow from your mind.”
Tim smiled again and settled back with her, snagging another gulab jamun. Maybe he did care too much. Abby was probably right. It made him good at his job. At the end of the day, he should be proud of himself. Sonal’s killer would face justice. Tonight, he could relax.