NCIS Big Bang, Gen, The World of Hate and Fear
Title: The World of Hate and Fear: Getting the Band Together Prologue
Summary: When the US Government asks former employee Jamie Madrox, now head of a small detective agency, to recruit leaders for X-Factor teams to be based within NCIS (amongst others) he can think of only one man for the job: former Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~21,700 for GtBT
Pairing: N/A - Gen
Spoiler Warnings: Vague spoilers for Yankee White and Bete Noire.
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Simple.
Notes: My thanks to hentzau for doing half of the spell checking. Any further mistakes are all down to me.
Getting the Band Together forms the first part of a much longer story that I will hopefully finish entirely over the next week or so. It can be read without the rest if you wish - but please come back and read the extra parts, there's some good stuff in there.
Getting the Band Together (Prequel): New Job
The call from Jamie Madrox was a surprise. Gibbs couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man more commonly known as Multiple Man, though he knew it had to have been more than a few years, and couldn't think of a reason Madrox would want to see him.
He knew Madrox was running some kind of private detective agency, X-Factor, had even exchanged a few phone calls on putting a good team together, but couldn't think what X-Factor would want with a retired Marine. Even if he did have a knack for telepathy.
“Good to see you, Gibbs,” Madrox said when Gibbs stepped into his office. “See you're looking even more silver than usual.”
“It's a good look on you,” another Madrox said, looking up from some filing. “Distinguished.”
“Oops,” Madrox muttered and with a faint pop the second Madrox disappeared. “Forgot you don't like the dupes.”
“It's not that I don't like them, Madrox,” Gibbs said, a smile twitching at his lips. “It's that one of your mind is more than enough.”
Madrox laughed and Gibbs was reminded of how good it felt not to have to hide. Madrox had the ability to duplicate himself and each 'dupe' could think and act just like the original. It made Gibbs uncomfortable - like hearing echoes in a deep cave.
“Well, I don't have to be a telepath to know you're wondering why I called,” Madrox said, turning serious. “Last time we ran across each other was the Clarkson case.”
Gibbs remembered now - Jimmy Clarkson, otherwise known as Beatbox, had made the mistake of using his sound based powers to kill a Petty Officer. His investigation had crossed with Madrox's and both of them had needed their gifts before it was done.
“I'll admit I'm curious,” Gibbs said, gently feeling the atmosphere of the room. Madrox knew how to keep things to himself, of course, as did anyone who ran around with Xavier's lot but you can't hide everything from a telepath. Madrox was a little tense, more guarded than usual. That was interesting.
“Your people, by which I mean the Navy, have been in touch with my people, by which I mean me,” Madrox said, leaning forward in his chair. “With the increasing public awareness of our kind and the people who seem so adamant that revealing us is a good idea - well, they're nervous that any mutants, known or unknown, in the services could become targets.
“They want me, because Val Cooper put in a totally unnecessary good word, to put together teams of mutants or mutant-friendlies that will act if an investigation is needed. NCIS: X-Factor, if you like.”
“You want me to lead the team,” Gibbs said, not needing to look to know it was true. That's why Madrox was edgy - because leading the team would be the same as telling everyone that you were a mutant and Gibbs had always been hesitant to do that.
“I honestly can't think of anyone better, Gibbs,” Madrox said. “You've already got the experience and who better to run a team like this than a telepath?”
And the thing was - Gibbs could see that Madrox was right, about the whole thing. Except...
“One condition,” Gibbs said, raising a finger for emphasis. “I choose the team.”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Madrox said and the relief wasn't just in his voice, it was in his mind. Gibbs laughed.
“You're a bastard, Jamie,” Gibbs said, shaking his head.
“I can't believe you let me walk you right into that one, Gibbs,” Madrox said, smiling. “You must be going soft in your old age.”
Gibbs snorted. I've still got it where it counts, Madrox, he replied, dropping the words into Madrox's mind.
“Yeah,” Madrox said, rubbing his forehead. “I'm never going to get used to that. Not from Xavier, not from little Miss Won't-Stay-Dead and not from you.”
“It's an acquired taste,” Gibbs said, still smiling.
“You got any ideas for your team?” Madrox asked.
“Of course not,” Gibbs said dismissively. “But I'll find them.”
“Well, let me know if you need a hand,” Madrox said, standing, though it was obvious that he didn't mean it. “And keep in touch.”
“You got it,” Gibbs said, standing and shaking Madrox's extended hand. They nodded once at each other and Gibbs made for the door.
“And Gibbs?” Madrox said, making Gibbs pause. “Try not to ruffle too many feathers. The less I have to deal with Val, the better.”
“Better you than me,” Gibbs said, shrugging before ducking through the door.
* * * *
Abby always knew when he was coming. She might not know why he was coming but she knew he was there. It irked Gibbs to a small amount that she was the only person in the building he couldn't sneak up on but the glee that she always greeted him with more than made up for it.
“Ooh, I smell Caf-Pow!” she said as he walked into the lab. He smiled and held it out for her as she slid her wheeled chair across the floor. “You always bring me the best things, Gibbs.”
“Try my best, Abs,” Gibbs said with a smile, bending to kiss her proffered cheek. His own cheek brushed briefly against the blindfold that covered her eyes and he made sure it was sitting right before standing again.
“You're thinking very hard aren't you?” Abby asked, sliding back across the floor to her computers again. Gibbs let the question sit for a moment while he examined the multiple screens; taking in the fingerprint searches and DNA matches and countless other things he wouldn't understand without an explanation. Abby, despite her lack of eyesight, was the hardest-working person in the NCIS building and was worth her weight in gold.
“You're forgetting that I can see your scrunched up face, Gibbs,” Abby warned, turning her face towards him. “Not to mention the whole telepathic bleed thing that makes it really hard for me to concentrate.”
“Been offered a job,” Gibbs said without preamble, leaning back against a table.
“What sort of job?” the tone was innocent but Gibbs felt her mind jump straight to worry.
“More like a promotion,” Gibbs said, shrugging. “I've been over to New York to see Madrox.”
“Multiple Man?!” Abby bounced on her chair. “I love that guy! I didn't know you knew him.”
“Worked a case together a few years back,” Gibbs said and Abby smiled. “Back when X-Factor worked for the government. Apparently Madrox's word still carries weight with them.”
“What do they want you to do?” Abby asked, thrusting straight for the heart of the matter. Gibbs let out a long breath.
“They want me to put together a team,” Gibbs said. “To deal with mutant crime.”
“Like NCIS: X-Factor,” Abby said with delight. Gibbs' lips twitched into a half smile.
“Yeah, like that,” he said with a nod. Abby bounced off her chair and grabbed a hold of his arms. He had the familiar sensation of being stared at with unusual intensity from behind that blindfold. He noticed absently that today's blindfold had a skull and crossbones on it.
“Gibbs,” Abby said seriously. “You have to do this. For us and all those like us. I've seen what people do to us even though Ducky always tries to hide the bodies where I won't see them. You have to do this because there's mutants that aren't as lucky as us. You have to -”
“Abs,” Gibbs said, pulling one of his arms free so he could lay a finger against her lips. “I said yes.”
“You did?” Abby asked, a faint trace of embarrassment in the air. Gibbs chuckled.
“Yeah, Abby, I did,” Gibbs pushed at Abby gently until she backed out of his space, beaming all the while. “The paperwork's going through Morrow at the moment.”
Abby made what Gibbs could only refer to as a squeal and threw her arms around him. She smelled of the chemicals she used in her lab tests and caffeine and something dark and musky. Gibbs tried not to laugh as he patted her back gently until she let him go.
“Ooh! This is going to be so exciting!” Abby said, throwing herself back into her chair. “The evidence on mutant crime is always so different to normal crime. Interesting, y'know? I mean, obviously this job is never meant to be fun, but still - think of all the gooey evidence we might find!”
Abby shivered with delight and Gibbs smiled again before ducking back out of the lab. Speaking with Abby was often the highlight of his day, though he'd never admit it, and seeing her happy was enough to give him a lift. He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the morgue.
Abby's gift was one of the typical horror stories that the papers liked so much. She'd gone blind when she hit puberty and people spent a lot of time feeling sorry for her. Abby hadn't been able to understand it because, as far as she was concerned, she could see perfectly well still. The doctors sympathised and said they could understand how she might think like that but that she was just filling in the details with her mind. In a fit of pique Abby described every single thing in the doctor's office, right down to the coffee stain on the cuff of his left sleeve.
After tests found the mutant gene her parents worried about how the world would treat their daughter. They were saved from this when one of Xavier's lot came down and told them that there was a place for her at the infamous school in Westchester. Abby accepted gleefully, unsurprisingly, and been the model student. She refused to participate in any of the training most of the other students looked forward to, being something of a pacifist, and when of the age that most of her peers were hoping to join one of the X-teams she was looking towards university.
Abby was never afraid of being a mutant and took to covering her sightless eyes with a blindfold, making a subtle statement about who and what she was. Several of the more prejudiced universities refused her and she eventually found a place at CalSci out west. CalSci had been amongst the first universities to openly admit mutant students, Gibbs remembered, he'd had a friend who applied there at the same time as he was joining the military.
When Abby landed at NCIS Gibbs almost couldn't believe his eyes, but her unusual sense of style, something the Director had referred to as unique, had been nothing but a mask for her extraordinary forensic abilities. The more Gibbs had learnt about Abby the more he had found himself liking her - torn between feeling paternal and brotherly instincts towards her. There were no arguments in the agency about who Abby worked for above everyone else and Gibbs liked that.
The elevator pinged quietly and opened on the hallway that lead to the morgue and Gibbs stepped out. He could hear a lone voice talking aimlessly and allowed himself a small smile. If there was one man in the world that could talk for England - it was Donald Mallard. The familiar presence of the Englishman sat in the back of Gibbs' mind, like a soothing balm in a world of chaos.
Gibbs slid into autopsy on silent feet and leant against a wall with his arms folded, watching Ducky talking at length to the corpse laid out before him.
“One day one of them's gonna talk back, Duck, and you're going to get the fright of your life,” Gibbs said after a moment. Ducky started slightly, and that was evidence enough of their long friendship, Ducky was becoming more and more resistant to Gibbs' sneaking ability.
“Ah, Jethro,” Ducky said as mildly as if Gibbs hadn't startled him. “Yes, well. It did happen once, most memorably, when I had the occasion to meet Mr. Logan. I was stationed in Africa at the time and -”
“Heard it, Ducky,” Gibbs said, holding up a hand. It was a good story - of how Wolverine had once showed up, dead, on Ducky's dissection table and how Ducky had nearly passed out when the Canadian mutant came back to life as he was about to cut into him - but one that Gibbs had heard more than a few times.
“Of course,” Ducky said, turning back to his body. “You've returned from New York, I see, with a considerable spring in your step.”
“Wouldn't call it a spring,” Gibbs said, ducking his head, though he would admit if forced that he had felt a sort of excitement since leaving Madrox's office.
“I take it that Mr Madrox had good news for you?” Ducky continued.
“Job offer. Wants me to head up a special investigations unit - dealing with mutant crime in the Navy.”
“I imagine that would be right up your alley, Jethro,” Ducky said, smiling as he looked up from the corpse. “And something of a challenge.”
“Might just be that, Duck,” Gibbs said, unable to stop himself from returning the smile.
“I look forward to it,” Ducky said before frowning at himself. “Well - as much one does look forward to things like this.”
Gibbs acknowledged this with a nod. Ducky was completely human and completely unfazed by the world changing around him. It struck Gibbs that Ducky was of the same generation as Professor Xavier and that it shouldn't be all that surprising that the man didn't mind mutants. In fact, Ducky had expressed a desire, on more than one occasion, to study mutants as closely as possible. He found them fascinating and Gibbs had put up with a lot of pointed questions over the years.
It cheered Gibbs to know that his forensic team were behind him. Now he could allow himself to start forming a shortlist in his head - of known and supposedly unknown mutants with and without the military that would be suitable for NCIS work.
As he departed the morgue he had to admit that Ducky was right - there was an extra spring in his step.
Prologue | Issue #1 | Issue #2 | Issue #3 | Issue #4 | Issue #5
Summary: When the US Government asks former employee Jamie Madrox, now head of a small detective agency, to recruit leaders for X-Factor teams to be based within NCIS (amongst others) he can think of only one man for the job: former Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~21,700 for GtBT
Pairing: N/A - Gen
Spoiler Warnings: Vague spoilers for Yankee White and Bete Noire.
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Simple.
Notes: My thanks to hentzau for doing half of the spell checking. Any further mistakes are all down to me.
Getting the Band Together forms the first part of a much longer story that I will hopefully finish entirely over the next week or so. It can be read without the rest if you wish - but please come back and read the extra parts, there's some good stuff in there.
Getting the Band Together (Prequel): New Job
The call from Jamie Madrox was a surprise. Gibbs couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man more commonly known as Multiple Man, though he knew it had to have been more than a few years, and couldn't think of a reason Madrox would want to see him.
He knew Madrox was running some kind of private detective agency, X-Factor, had even exchanged a few phone calls on putting a good team together, but couldn't think what X-Factor would want with a retired Marine. Even if he did have a knack for telepathy.
“Good to see you, Gibbs,” Madrox said when Gibbs stepped into his office. “See you're looking even more silver than usual.”
“It's a good look on you,” another Madrox said, looking up from some filing. “Distinguished.”
“Oops,” Madrox muttered and with a faint pop the second Madrox disappeared. “Forgot you don't like the dupes.”
“It's not that I don't like them, Madrox,” Gibbs said, a smile twitching at his lips. “It's that one of your mind is more than enough.”
Madrox laughed and Gibbs was reminded of how good it felt not to have to hide. Madrox had the ability to duplicate himself and each 'dupe' could think and act just like the original. It made Gibbs uncomfortable - like hearing echoes in a deep cave.
“Well, I don't have to be a telepath to know you're wondering why I called,” Madrox said, turning serious. “Last time we ran across each other was the Clarkson case.”
Gibbs remembered now - Jimmy Clarkson, otherwise known as Beatbox, had made the mistake of using his sound based powers to kill a Petty Officer. His investigation had crossed with Madrox's and both of them had needed their gifts before it was done.
“I'll admit I'm curious,” Gibbs said, gently feeling the atmosphere of the room. Madrox knew how to keep things to himself, of course, as did anyone who ran around with Xavier's lot but you can't hide everything from a telepath. Madrox was a little tense, more guarded than usual. That was interesting.
“Your people, by which I mean the Navy, have been in touch with my people, by which I mean me,” Madrox said, leaning forward in his chair. “With the increasing public awareness of our kind and the people who seem so adamant that revealing us is a good idea - well, they're nervous that any mutants, known or unknown, in the services could become targets.
“They want me, because Val Cooper put in a totally unnecessary good word, to put together teams of mutants or mutant-friendlies that will act if an investigation is needed. NCIS: X-Factor, if you like.”
“You want me to lead the team,” Gibbs said, not needing to look to know it was true. That's why Madrox was edgy - because leading the team would be the same as telling everyone that you were a mutant and Gibbs had always been hesitant to do that.
“I honestly can't think of anyone better, Gibbs,” Madrox said. “You've already got the experience and who better to run a team like this than a telepath?”
And the thing was - Gibbs could see that Madrox was right, about the whole thing. Except...
“One condition,” Gibbs said, raising a finger for emphasis. “I choose the team.”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Madrox said and the relief wasn't just in his voice, it was in his mind. Gibbs laughed.
“You're a bastard, Jamie,” Gibbs said, shaking his head.
“I can't believe you let me walk you right into that one, Gibbs,” Madrox said, smiling. “You must be going soft in your old age.”
Gibbs snorted. I've still got it where it counts, Madrox, he replied, dropping the words into Madrox's mind.
“Yeah,” Madrox said, rubbing his forehead. “I'm never going to get used to that. Not from Xavier, not from little Miss Won't-Stay-Dead and not from you.”
“It's an acquired taste,” Gibbs said, still smiling.
“You got any ideas for your team?” Madrox asked.
“Of course not,” Gibbs said dismissively. “But I'll find them.”
“Well, let me know if you need a hand,” Madrox said, standing, though it was obvious that he didn't mean it. “And keep in touch.”
“You got it,” Gibbs said, standing and shaking Madrox's extended hand. They nodded once at each other and Gibbs made for the door.
“And Gibbs?” Madrox said, making Gibbs pause. “Try not to ruffle too many feathers. The less I have to deal with Val, the better.”
“Better you than me,” Gibbs said, shrugging before ducking through the door.
* * * *
Abby always knew when he was coming. She might not know why he was coming but she knew he was there. It irked Gibbs to a small amount that she was the only person in the building he couldn't sneak up on but the glee that she always greeted him with more than made up for it.
“Ooh, I smell Caf-Pow!” she said as he walked into the lab. He smiled and held it out for her as she slid her wheeled chair across the floor. “You always bring me the best things, Gibbs.”
“Try my best, Abs,” Gibbs said with a smile, bending to kiss her proffered cheek. His own cheek brushed briefly against the blindfold that covered her eyes and he made sure it was sitting right before standing again.
“You're thinking very hard aren't you?” Abby asked, sliding back across the floor to her computers again. Gibbs let the question sit for a moment while he examined the multiple screens; taking in the fingerprint searches and DNA matches and countless other things he wouldn't understand without an explanation. Abby, despite her lack of eyesight, was the hardest-working person in the NCIS building and was worth her weight in gold.
“You're forgetting that I can see your scrunched up face, Gibbs,” Abby warned, turning her face towards him. “Not to mention the whole telepathic bleed thing that makes it really hard for me to concentrate.”
“Been offered a job,” Gibbs said without preamble, leaning back against a table.
“What sort of job?” the tone was innocent but Gibbs felt her mind jump straight to worry.
“More like a promotion,” Gibbs said, shrugging. “I've been over to New York to see Madrox.”
“Multiple Man?!” Abby bounced on her chair. “I love that guy! I didn't know you knew him.”
“Worked a case together a few years back,” Gibbs said and Abby smiled. “Back when X-Factor worked for the government. Apparently Madrox's word still carries weight with them.”
“What do they want you to do?” Abby asked, thrusting straight for the heart of the matter. Gibbs let out a long breath.
“They want me to put together a team,” Gibbs said. “To deal with mutant crime.”
“Like NCIS: X-Factor,” Abby said with delight. Gibbs' lips twitched into a half smile.
“Yeah, like that,” he said with a nod. Abby bounced off her chair and grabbed a hold of his arms. He had the familiar sensation of being stared at with unusual intensity from behind that blindfold. He noticed absently that today's blindfold had a skull and crossbones on it.
“Gibbs,” Abby said seriously. “You have to do this. For us and all those like us. I've seen what people do to us even though Ducky always tries to hide the bodies where I won't see them. You have to do this because there's mutants that aren't as lucky as us. You have to -”
“Abs,” Gibbs said, pulling one of his arms free so he could lay a finger against her lips. “I said yes.”
“You did?” Abby asked, a faint trace of embarrassment in the air. Gibbs chuckled.
“Yeah, Abby, I did,” Gibbs pushed at Abby gently until she backed out of his space, beaming all the while. “The paperwork's going through Morrow at the moment.”
Abby made what Gibbs could only refer to as a squeal and threw her arms around him. She smelled of the chemicals she used in her lab tests and caffeine and something dark and musky. Gibbs tried not to laugh as he patted her back gently until she let him go.
“Ooh! This is going to be so exciting!” Abby said, throwing herself back into her chair. “The evidence on mutant crime is always so different to normal crime. Interesting, y'know? I mean, obviously this job is never meant to be fun, but still - think of all the gooey evidence we might find!”
Abby shivered with delight and Gibbs smiled again before ducking back out of the lab. Speaking with Abby was often the highlight of his day, though he'd never admit it, and seeing her happy was enough to give him a lift. He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the morgue.
Abby's gift was one of the typical horror stories that the papers liked so much. She'd gone blind when she hit puberty and people spent a lot of time feeling sorry for her. Abby hadn't been able to understand it because, as far as she was concerned, she could see perfectly well still. The doctors sympathised and said they could understand how she might think like that but that she was just filling in the details with her mind. In a fit of pique Abby described every single thing in the doctor's office, right down to the coffee stain on the cuff of his left sleeve.
After tests found the mutant gene her parents worried about how the world would treat their daughter. They were saved from this when one of Xavier's lot came down and told them that there was a place for her at the infamous school in Westchester. Abby accepted gleefully, unsurprisingly, and been the model student. She refused to participate in any of the training most of the other students looked forward to, being something of a pacifist, and when of the age that most of her peers were hoping to join one of the X-teams she was looking towards university.
Abby was never afraid of being a mutant and took to covering her sightless eyes with a blindfold, making a subtle statement about who and what she was. Several of the more prejudiced universities refused her and she eventually found a place at CalSci out west. CalSci had been amongst the first universities to openly admit mutant students, Gibbs remembered, he'd had a friend who applied there at the same time as he was joining the military.
When Abby landed at NCIS Gibbs almost couldn't believe his eyes, but her unusual sense of style, something the Director had referred to as unique, had been nothing but a mask for her extraordinary forensic abilities. The more Gibbs had learnt about Abby the more he had found himself liking her - torn between feeling paternal and brotherly instincts towards her. There were no arguments in the agency about who Abby worked for above everyone else and Gibbs liked that.
The elevator pinged quietly and opened on the hallway that lead to the morgue and Gibbs stepped out. He could hear a lone voice talking aimlessly and allowed himself a small smile. If there was one man in the world that could talk for England - it was Donald Mallard. The familiar presence of the Englishman sat in the back of Gibbs' mind, like a soothing balm in a world of chaos.
Gibbs slid into autopsy on silent feet and leant against a wall with his arms folded, watching Ducky talking at length to the corpse laid out before him.
“One day one of them's gonna talk back, Duck, and you're going to get the fright of your life,” Gibbs said after a moment. Ducky started slightly, and that was evidence enough of their long friendship, Ducky was becoming more and more resistant to Gibbs' sneaking ability.
“Ah, Jethro,” Ducky said as mildly as if Gibbs hadn't startled him. “Yes, well. It did happen once, most memorably, when I had the occasion to meet Mr. Logan. I was stationed in Africa at the time and -”
“Heard it, Ducky,” Gibbs said, holding up a hand. It was a good story - of how Wolverine had once showed up, dead, on Ducky's dissection table and how Ducky had nearly passed out when the Canadian mutant came back to life as he was about to cut into him - but one that Gibbs had heard more than a few times.
“Of course,” Ducky said, turning back to his body. “You've returned from New York, I see, with a considerable spring in your step.”
“Wouldn't call it a spring,” Gibbs said, ducking his head, though he would admit if forced that he had felt a sort of excitement since leaving Madrox's office.
“I take it that Mr Madrox had good news for you?” Ducky continued.
“Job offer. Wants me to head up a special investigations unit - dealing with mutant crime in the Navy.”
“I imagine that would be right up your alley, Jethro,” Ducky said, smiling as he looked up from the corpse. “And something of a challenge.”
“Might just be that, Duck,” Gibbs said, unable to stop himself from returning the smile.
“I look forward to it,” Ducky said before frowning at himself. “Well - as much one does look forward to things like this.”
Gibbs acknowledged this with a nod. Ducky was completely human and completely unfazed by the world changing around him. It struck Gibbs that Ducky was of the same generation as Professor Xavier and that it shouldn't be all that surprising that the man didn't mind mutants. In fact, Ducky had expressed a desire, on more than one occasion, to study mutants as closely as possible. He found them fascinating and Gibbs had put up with a lot of pointed questions over the years.
It cheered Gibbs to know that his forensic team were behind him. Now he could allow himself to start forming a shortlist in his head - of known and supposedly unknown mutants with and without the military that would be suitable for NCIS work.
As he departed the morgue he had to admit that Ducky was right - there was an extra spring in his step.
Prologue | Issue #1 | Issue #2 | Issue #3 | Issue #4 | Issue #5