Becky (elisabec) wrote,

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Fic: Laud and Tarnish 17/?

Last for now....


previous parts:
{prologue} {one} {two} {three} {four} {five} {six} {seven} {eight} {nine} {ten} {eleven} {twelve} {thirteen} {fourteen} {fifteen} {sixteen}

Disclaimers: TS belongs to Paramount/Pet Fly. NCIS belongs to Paramount/Belisarius.

Laud and Tarnish - TS/NCIS crossover


“...complicated.”  Blair evaded Abby’s persistent if innocent inquiry into why an anthropology teacher would be partnered with a Major Crime detective.

Before she could push past that feeble answer, her name was called out by the just-entering older man Blair remembered from the bank.  Gibbs.  The two other NCIS agents he only vaguely recalled were just behind him.

As Abby flew across the room, Blair set his tea aside and relaxed back into the chair, letting his scratchy eyes partially close.  The call to Simon, the tea, the fairly quiet atmosphere of the waiting room, and oddly, the comfort offered by a newly-met Goth forensics scientist had settled his jangled nerves to a degree.  His heart, however, still jumped every time someone stepped across the entrance to the waiting room.

The eternal question of what’s worse: waiting and not knowing what’s happening or waiting and hoping no news means good news or watching some grim-faced doctor walking down the hallway and wondering if he’s coming for you.


The voice of one of the unnamed agents snared his attention.  Gemcity?  The author?  Several hardbacks of Gemcity’s first book had floated through the hands of his students a few years ago, enough so that he’d finally picked up a used copy at a bookstore, just so he’d know what his students were gushing about.  From behind barely open eyes, he watched the other two agents reading something from a PDA, their facial expressions indicating it wasn’t a good something.  Abby and Gibbs joined them moments later.

Although he could only pick up one word in three, he guessed the topic of conversation and hid a grim smile.  They’re talking about me.  And Jim.  Between years of dealing with students who didn’t want to admit to not doing term papers to working with dozens of macho cops trained not to reveal emotions, Blair had become a near expert in reading body language.  That and Gibbs wasn’t being terribly subtle about watching him.

Closing his eyes all the way, Blair let the voices roll past him.  He was tempted to let go and fall asleep for a quick and desperately needed nap, but he really didn’t want to face the darkness waiting for him.  It was bad already with so many images and emotions and memories from the Acker case clamoring for precedence.  I think last night Jim and I got perhaps three hours of sleep between the two of us.  Adding in today’s so-very-unneeded adventure and Jim collapsing as he had....  I don’t even want to consider what insane patchwork my brain is going to make of it when I finally do try to sleep.

“I know you are not asleep.”

He jerked, eyes flying open at the unexpected voice of the female agent.  “No.”  Sighing, he pushed himself upwards and added, “Not when Jim...well...”  His voice tapered off.

Her eyes studied him and he wondered at the knowledge hiding behind them.  She looked down at her folded hands, then said quietly.  “My experience has been that when the health of your partner is unknown, one does not sleep.  Or at least one does not sleep well.”

Experience?  She’s been in my place before.  Blair inclined his head with a small smile.  “Very true.”

“My apologies for startling you from your rest.”  She held out a hand.  “I am Ziva David.”  As she moved, her necklace slid into view and his eyes caught on the Star of David pendant.

He grasped her hand firmly.  “Blair Sandburg.  Your’re not...”

“American?  No.”  She chuckled softly.  “Israeli.  And you...Sandburg is a Jewish name, no?”

Switching over to his somewhat rusty Hebrew, Blair replied, >“Yes.  My mother, Naomi, is Jewish.  Her grandparents emigrated to America long ago.”<

Answering in the same language, Ziva queried, >“No one in your family has returned to Israel?”<

Behind her, the rest of the team wandered over from the far side of the room.  McGee and the remaining male agent now both held Styrofoam drink carriers - more coffee and tea, Blair presumed.  He saw both Gibbs’ eyebrows tilt up when he realized they weren’t speaking in English.

>“My mother has visited many times.  Once, when I was very young, she took me.”<  Distant, foggy memories of that short trip flitted behind his eyes.  >“I had always planned to go back as an adult, but time escapes faster than one expects.”<

“Ziva.”  Gibbs interjected quietly.

She shared a small smile with Blair, finishing with >“Maybe one day.  There is still yet time.”<   Then she rose from the table and took a seat in one of the other chairs. 



go to part eighteen
Tags: fic: laud and tarnish, ncis, ts
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