DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of 'em except Joey.
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NCIS FANFICTION – The Cherry Bomb Alicia Beavers, 6/25/07
It took her a second to register the fact that the cherry bomb was lit.
How did this thing get lit? Did I light it? Oh, crap.... this thing's gonna blow!
Joey looked frantically around the small patio outside the NCIS office, the maniacal little bomb fizzing gently, sparks flying, in her outstretched left hand - seconds away from exploding. Pivoting forcefully, almost tripping, she did a double take, looking at the welcoming cup of Caff-Pow Abby had just left and said she'd be right back for. All Joey took into consideration was that soda was a liquid, and that Abby was a wonderfully subtle target for a prank. Of course, this would be the first time the girl had actually done something this big.
But what the heck. Why not?
Joey wrenched the lid off of the Caff-Pow and for a second heard the bomb whispering sweet, sinister nothings in her ear, but realization of the imminent danger practically barreled over any thought of this and she dropped the bomb into the cup and snapped the lid back on. A wave of relief washed over her. The bomb simmered and stopped fizzing.
Soda extinguished it. Whew.... she sighed and turned towards the sliding glass door, stepping back into the cool office. Abby brushed past her.
"Abby, wait!" Joey started.
"Not now. I need energy before Gibbs comes – wanting answers." She continued towards the door.
Joey considered her answer, but shrugged it off and decided to let Abby find the dead-bomb without her help. If the soda tastes bad, well....whatever.
Joey turned back and headed down the hallway. About five seconds later a loud rupturing noise exploded behind her and Joey froze as the sliding door was shoved open and one dripping, soda-covered Abby stomped into the corridor.
"YOU!" She pointed one accusing finger at Joey and shot her a piercing glare.
"I...you...Heh." Without much cooperative thought, Joey shrugged innocently sped off down the hallway, blasted past Interrogation and finally - when she met the fork in the road - came skidding to a stop in the center of the bullpen. Both Gibbs and McGee were at their desks, filling out the paperwork that would wrap up the latest case. Ziva was at her desk also, but having finished her paperwork she was now reading "Deep Six," McGee's latest book. Tony had swiveled his chair around to rest in front of Ziva's desk, and they were comparing reading notes, shooting sideways glances at Tim every so often, who sent them flying right back.
Joey rushed behind Tony and gripped his chair, staring over his shoulder. The team all laid confused glances on her and Tony.
"Something bugging you, kid?" Tony ventured, still reading.
But before she could respond Abby came storming into the bullpen. Joey put her hands on Tony's shoulders and tried to resist running.
"What the hell happened to you?" Gibbs scanned her from top to bottom. Her once gleaming lab coat was slowly staining to a brownish, soda-tint.
"SHE…" Abby pointed one finger at Joey, who shrank back behind Tony as Gibbs met her eyes. She tossed him an innocent smile, and Abby continued, "SHE put THIS in my CAFF-POW!" She yanked the maniacal little cherry bomb out of her coat pocket and thrust it out to Gibbs. He stood, came around to the front of his desk and took the thing, twirling it around in his hand and mentally confirming that it was, actually, a little bomb.
"When, Abs?" Gibbs inquired. But Abby was still glaring at Joey, and didn't answer him.
"Abby." The second time he said it with a little more force. She looked at him. "When?"
"Like, five minutes ago! She put THAT in my Caff-Pow, Gibbs! Where's the justice? I go away for one second to get some files, come back, and then…BOOM!" She threw her hands in the air.
Joey stepped out from behind Tony's chair, angry now.
"I WARNED you not to go out there!" She yelled, open for argument as she adopted a more stable stance – one foot just in front of the other.
"You wouldn't have HAD to if you didn't put a CHERRY BOMB IN MY CAFF-POW!" Abby retorted loudly.
"….well, that was an accident!" Joey shot back.
"Enough!" Gibbs interjected, pocketing the bomb and stepping in front of Abby to block her view of Joey.
"Back to the lab, Abs – run tests, get answers, call me when you've got something."
"Fine, Gibbs." She pivoted and strode back to the lab. Gibbs turned and jerked his head at Tony, who rolled back to his desk and sat waiting in anticipation, not unlike Tim and Ziva, who seemed almost amused in waiting for someone to make the next move.
Stepping forward Gibbs grabbed his shaking goddaughter by the back of her collar and pulled her over to the window, turning her around and pushing her against it. He held her there by the front of her collar now – just a tight knot of fabric in his right hand. Joey tried to relax her body, but she could not suppress the rattling feeling she was having to endure. She glanced up at Gibbs, who drew the bomb out of his pocket and held it in his open left hand.
"Where did you get this?" He inquired softly, looking at the little bomb. But Joey just hung her head in shame and stared down at the floor, shaking her head. The back of her neck burned with nervousness and she knew that Tony, Ziva, and McGee were all staring at her and Gibbs. Not very comforting.
"Hey." Gibbs broke the silence. He popped her under the chin with his index finger and used his hand to lift her head, forcing her to look at him.
"Where?" Seeing the glazed-over look in her eyes, he added, "Don't lie to me, Joey."
She sighed, and looked around, thinking over all the things she could say that would sound convincing enough to fool him. But she couldn't lie…well, yea, she could, but it would have made her feel worse later.
"I…met a guy in the park the other day." She whispered.
"What guy, what park?" Gibbs provoked her monotonously, as if interrogated a suspect who was elaborating enough on their story to placate him.
"Don't know his name. The park…by…the…freeway." She shut her eyes and waited for the axe to fall.
Gibbs sighed and rubbed his face, his frustration was reaching it's peak. On any occasion he would have never allowed her to go there alone, and he sure hadn't taken her there. At night, the drug dealers, junkies, and neighborhood punks liked to hang out there, and some of Joey's school buddies had apparently thought that was acceptably "cool," because they had taken to sneaking out at night to go there.
Joey bit back an apology – knowing the most important of Gibbs' unspoken, not-numbered rules: Don't apologize. Ever. Her stomach contorted and she swallowed the bitter taste of the words in her mouth. Gibbs was not happy, she could tell.
"Jethro, I-"
"Where are the others?" He continued, which surprised Joey – Him passing over the subject of her disobedience so quickly and without reprimand. She pondered this for a second, which he seemed to notice, for he removed his hand from her chin and sent a stern look down to her, one that clearly said that they would discuss it more later. She shivered subconsciously as Gibbs' glare pierced her like an icicle. He always seemed to know everything, which scared the crap out of her sometimes. Those pale-blue eyes were omniscient.
"The other what?" She ventured.
Gibbs landed a short, sharp smack across the side of her head and she cringed, reaching up to rub the spot. Gibbs pushed her arm back down and was silent.
"There aren't any, Jethro, I swear. Just that one." She nodded towards the shiny black ball in his hand. He absentmindedly rubbed it with his thumb as he bored into her eyes, looking for traces of a lie. But she was genuine, and he dropped his gaze.
"About a month ago someone blew up the mailbox outside this building." He tested.
Having not heard about that, Joey looked over at Tony and mouthed "What?"
He mouthed back, "I don't know!"
"I didn't do that!" She mouthed back. Gibbs glared over his shoulder at Tony, who immediately looked at his computer screen, pretending to type. Gibbs looked back at Joey.
"Did you do that?" He pressed.
"Actually, no, I did not do that." She held up one finger in support of her argument, regaining her usual sarcastic demeanor. Her head throbbed, and she shut her eyes for a second.
"Convince me otherwise." Gibbs stated, releasing her shirtfront and put his arms down at his side, pocketing the bomb. Behind him Tony, Ziva, and McGee leaned in closer, as if watching a chess match. It was, after all, a game of strategy. Who would win?
"Well, uhm…" Joey absentmindedly rubbed her chest and neck, "'cause…oh – " she got her answer and looked up confidently, "it couldn't have been me because if I were going to let off a bomb I wouldn't do it in the NCIS mailbox. I may be an idiot, Jethro, but I don't have a death wish." She inhaled sharply, having let off that entire sentence in one breath.
"Yea, bomb-in-the-soda-cup is a lot less subtle." Gibbs cornered her verbally, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"I told you – that was an accident, I swear."
Gibbs looked at her, and she swallowed again. He nodded slightly towards his desk. Joey remained still for a second, then registered the nonverbal cue. Pacing past him - sure she was off the hook for now – she went and seated herself at her godfather's desk, sneaking a look at Tony, who looked back with raised eyebrows and a relieved expression. She smiled. Gibbs strode back into the bullpen, grabbing a file off of the corner of Tony's desk on the way back to his own.
"McGee, go check on Abby. Ziva, go down and see if Ducky's finished with is paperwork yet. DiNozzo – take the files to the Director."
"Yes, Boss." Tony acknowledged as the three agents stood and walked off in different directions. Gibbs bent over his desk next to Joey and finished initialing his paperwork.
"Am I still in trouble, Jethro?" Joey crossed her arms on top of the desk. Gibbs smacked her again.
"Thought so." She sighed and thrust her head into her arms, trying not to think about what was coming later.
Recognizing her imminent - but willing – defeat, Gibbs smiled (she didn't see) and leaned over her, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back.
"To be continued. Stay put." He whispered.
She nodded somberly.
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Joey glanced at the clock – 7:34. Gibbs and his team had been in and out of the bullpen all afternoon following the "Cherry Bomb Incident" as Tony was now calling it. (After he continued to press the issue, Gibbs had silenced him the usual way.) It was near quitting time, she knew – but nobody was in the bullpen except her and Tony, who was at his desk. Together they were engaged in a game of throwing paper wads into each other's trashcans, and then at each other.
"Hey, Tony, where's Abby?" She lazily tossed a paper wad into his trashcan, still a little upset about her predicament.
"Probably in the lab, cleaning her coat. Who knew soda made such a mess?" Tony landed another basket.
Ignoring the dig, Joey asked, "Where can I get a Caff-Pow?"
Tony looked up at her, suddenly serious.
"Why?"
"I want to apologize to Abby."
"Gibbs' says not to-"
"I know, stupid. I'm not apologizing to Gibbs, though. I'm apologizing to Abby."
"Check the lounge upstairs. There's a soda fountain and Abby's probably got spare cups in the cabinet."
Joey got up and looked around for Gibbs. He had told her not to move from his desk, but her intentions seemed honest enough. As she passed by Tony's desk, she noticed his wallet in the open drawer. Grinning, she inclined her head to his right, saying "Oh, hey, Jethro!" even though no one was there. When Tony looked up, startled, she snatched the wallet and fled up the stairs, snickering.
The soda fountain only dispenses soda when fed money. Tony had money. Fountain had soda. That's awesome, Joey laughed.
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Joey knocked once on the glass door to the lab and it slid open. Cautiously she stepped inside, gripping the sides of the Caff-Pow cup with both hands, feeling the cold condensation on the side. Abby wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Hey, Abby?" Joey paced quietly around the room, running a hand over the tops of the computers, enjoying the warmth radiating from the metal and plastic machines. When no one answered her she set the soda down on the back table and clambered onto a barstool, swiveling around to face the computer screen. Fingerprints were blazing across the monitor, and faces popped up. Joey smiled as she smoothed out the crumpled edges of the evidence bags on the table. She loved NCIS – every part of it, especially the part that involved her godfather being the Boss of everybody working there.
"What are you doing here?"
Joey practically fell off her stool, stumbling backward and pushing the evidence bags farther back onto the counter. The stool seat spun wildly, and she cautiously reached out and placed a hand on top of it to make it stop. Swallowing, she nodded towards the Caff-Pow behind Abby.
She looked at it, then back at Joey. "It's not going to explode, is it?"
Joey shook her head, feeling her anger bubbling in her stomach again.
"I told you, Abby - that was an accident. I just...I didn't mean to target you, really, I just...I dunno...ran out of options. The thing was lit! I saw your soda and there wasn't anything else to do with it, so..." She shrugged.
Abby crossed her arms in scrutiny, then walked around and took the Caff-Pow, slurping it up happily.
"So, I just came down here to tell you that...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do what I did, but I'm sorry." Joey stated in a drolling tone – kind of bordering on sarcastic, as if she were tired and just waiting to see if Abby wanted to continue the argument.
"Could've told me that earlier and I wouldn't have chased you all the way to Gibbs." Abby replied mischievously.
"What?" Joey seemed shocked.
"You wouldn't be in trouble now if you would have explained that to me earlier, silly." Abby looked at her as if she were an absentminded five-year-old who had just wet their pants.
"You wouldn't have told him?" Joey was nonplussed.
"Why would I do that?" Abby lowered the cup away from her face, which appeared crestfallen.
Joey stepped back, afraid – for a second – that she might have offended the Goth. "Don't you, like...you know...hate my guts?" Joey held out her open hands in confusion.
"What?"
"What what?" Joey eyed her suspiciously. "I mean...don't you?"
"No."
"You don't?"
"No." Abby sipped on her soda.
Joey looked down at the floor, realizing that she had thought of Abby as a rival ever since she first came to visit NCIS and she had never had any real reason to. She watched as Abby gathered up the evidence bags and laid them neatly in cardboard boxes to ship off. The case was closed, and it felt good that the tension had ended.
Joey sighed contently. Yea, I feel better. She laughed quietly and looked up at Abby.
"I guess I was just being stupid, then." Joey mused out loud.
"Yea, probably." Abby looked at her and grinned. Joey returned that grin and they laughed together. Finally.
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Joey heard Gibbs voice as she headed down the hallway. Tony's, too. She shrank back against the wall, ducked under the interrogation window, and slid back down the corridor, pulling herself onto Gibbs' chair just as he and Tony turned the corner. Tony glanced at Joey and behind Gibbs' back he mouthed "how'd it go?"
She simply nodded as Gibbs approached the desk and stepped over to the bookshelf behind it, ruffling through some plastic binders and sliding in various papers he had been carrying. Joey picked up a paper wad from the floor and chucked it at Tony, not making any noise. Gibbs reached behind himself and smacked her lightly on the back of the head, without looking back or up from the paper he was skimming.
Tony raised one eyebrow.
How does he DO that? Joey rubbed the sore spot.
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The ride home was miserable – Gibbs commanded the silence that lingered over the car like a soggy cloud of lies. Joey squirmed in her seat, waiting for him to say something, which didn't happen for about ten minutes, after they had reached the freeway and it had started to rain. Hard.
"Jethro, I-"
"You gonna apologize?" He kept his eyes on the road and took a sip of his coffee. Joey was silent for a moment, looking thoroughly chagrined.
"If it makes you happy again."
"What makes you think I'm not happy?"
"...the fact that I lit a cherry bomb and stuck it in Abby's soda...."
"Good reason," Gibbs mused.
Joey slouched in her seat and stared out at the rain hitting her window.
Gibbs exited the freeway and brought the car onto a smaller road, pulling into the driveway about five or six minutes later. After the car stopped and he twisted the keys out of the socket, he leaned back against his seat and looked at Joey.
"It's raining." He pointed out the window, his expression stolid and unwavering.
Joey didn't reply, just looked at him, confused and anticipating.
"Last one inside is a wet egg."
"Rotten egg?"
"It's raining. Wouldn't that make you a wet egg?"
"No." Joey reached down and unbuckled her seat belt. "It might make you one, though!"
And with that she pushed the door open and bolted for the porch, grinning when Gibbs ran up behind her and swept her up in his strong arms. She laughed out loud as the rain fell down on their faces and left their hair glistening wet. Gibbs strode up the porch steps and unlocked the door of the contemporary little townhouse they shared. (Inside all the furniture wasn't so modern and reflected Gibbs' non-familiarity with pop. culture – but, it made them both comfortable, and that was all that mattered.)
Joey stepped inside the house, almost slipping for all the water on her shoes. She shivered as Gibbs removed his coat and ran a hand through his wet hair. Without knowing why or what for or even realizing that it didn't really help the fact that she was still going to have to face his music, Joey tossed her arms around her godfather's waist and hugged him tightly, melting in his embrace as he rubbed her head and shoulders.
"I know how you feel about apologies, Jethro, but I really am sorry." She sniffed lightly, inhaling the distinct smell of sawdust and rain. Smelled fresh and felt wonderful to her – it was the sawdust scent that always made her feel comfortable – it either meant that Gibbs was nearby or she was home with him – something she longed for most of the time.
"I know." He answered softly. "Go upstairs, take a shower, then we'll talk about it." He gently pushed her away from him and sent her scampering up the stairs, leaving a trail of raindrops in her wake.
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Joey showered, basking in the warmth of the water as it distributed itself over her lithe frame – down her neck and patting across her shoulders like expert fingers giving a massage. She ran both hands through her slick hair, lathered twice, rinsed, and then stepped over the bathtub wall after turning the knob gently to stop the flow of water. She almost regretted seeing the last of it swirling down the drain.
She dried her hair (didn't take long with it being so short and somewhat spiky.) She brushed a finger over her short bangs and rubbed a hand along the soft back of her head, where the hair stuck straight out. Opening the bathroom door she shuffled out into her bedroom and approached the dresser. She put on some worn, blue-plaid, flannel pajama pants and soft, white socks. Flipping through her closet she pulled her black NCIS shirt off of the metal hanger and slid it over her head and shoulders. It was a little big (she had raided Gibbs' closet one day when he wasn't home.) She undid the clasp on the dog tags hanging around her neck and stuck the whole apparatus under her pillow, and then cautiously, she opened the door to her room and stepped out into the hallway.
She caught the faint sound of TV voices downstairs, crackling and fading due to bad satellite reception. Climbing soundlessly down the stairs she peeked around the corner. Gibbs was on the left side of the couch, leaning against the arm. He had changed into jeans, a white tee-shirt, and a navy-blue plush bathrobe. His socked feet were propped up on the table and he was sipping moderately on a mug of coffee.
Joey paced quietly into the room and sat down beside Gibbs, snuggling into his side and pulling her legs up under her. He, having not noticed her come in, glanced down at her in mild surprise as he switched coffee hands and draped his right arm around her shoulders. Moving his other hand over the end table he traded his mug for the remote and turned the volume down on the news report, looking down at the eleven-year-old as she tried to gather her bearings.
"You could start from the beginning, Joey." Gibbs initiated the conversation.
She sat up and met his level gaze, trying to hold back her obvious apprehension. Gibbs smiled faintly and pulled her up to sit on his lap with his left arm across her shoulders now. She eased into the position as he drew a blanket across their legs. She played absentmindedly with a loose string on the fleece cover as she began her story. Gibbs just cocked his head at her, all ears.
"About two days ago, at school, I met Danny Custer by the bus stop and he said that he and some friends were going to have a party at the park by the freeway that night. Fireworks and coke and stuff like that."
Gibbs looked down at her hands upon the mention of the word "coke." He was sure that Joey hadn't known it was actually a dangerous drug. More than likely she thought it was soda, as is the actual word. Joey continued.
"Middle of the night, maybe 2 a.m., I got up and walked down there. There was a guy selling fireworks and cherry bombs and stuff, so I bought a cherry bomb ‘cause I thought I'd light it there, but apparently I didn't."
"Apparently?" Gibbs raised one eyebrow.
"Jethro?" She ventured softly.
"I know that ‘coke' is a kind of drug."
Gibbs' expression faded into slight shock and frustrated disappointment. "You took it anyway."
"Since I couldn't remember anything between buying the bomb and coming home, I figure I must have. But I didn't mean to, Jethro, honest. I don't remember taking it."
"Did you drink anything while you were there?" Gibbs inquired firmly, instantly believing her story. He knew her well enough to know that she had a knack for getting herself into trouble over idiotic things, but she would never take drugs willingly.
"Maybe. I remember waking up yesterday morning and my teeth were brown and sticky before I brushed ‘em."
Gibbs mentally squashed that disgusting image.
"Somebody probably put it in my Coke."
Gibbs looked blankly at her.
"My real Coke, Jethro – the drink, not the drug."
He nodded, smiling. She relaxed a little.
"Keep talking." He pushed.
"I don't remember much after we arrived at NCIS – at least, not much after I was talking to Tony about that movie that came out last weekend – the one where Bruce Willis totals a helicopter with his car-"
"Joey."
"Oh, right. Back to the other story – uhm...last thing I remember is being outside on the patio with a smoking cherry bomb in my hand. I saw Abby's soda and I didn't know where else to put the thing, ‘cause I knew it was going to explode, but I thought the soda would, you know, put out the fuse." She looked up innocently. "I thought it did. I left the patio and Abby was heading out there, and I was going to tell her, but she said she was busy and I left. I guess fuse was still lit, though, ‘cause the cup exploded. I didn't see that, but Abby caught up with me in the hall, I ran, and then I was in the bullpen. I can remember everything that happened from there. But that's it."
Gibbs looked away from her and stared ahead at the television, not really watching, but thinking about her statement and considering his options. It was certainly possible that, if she had ingested enough cocaine – her memory lapses could have kept occurring as long as she claimed they did. But even so, he really didn't see the motive she would have for lying to him. Thus, he concluded that she was telling the truth.
"I believe you." He affirmed gingerly, ruffling her hair. "Nonetheless, you disobeyed me, which led to buying a bomb, coming in contact with drugs, bringing the bomb to NCIS, and blowing up Abby's Caff-Pow."
"I know." She paused. "I'm in pretty deep, huh?"
"Seems like everything you've done comes back to you disobeying me. So, I won't punish you for anything but that, as long as we don't have a repeat of the "Cherry Bomb Incident."" He forced his inflection down to a low level, like a television or movie announcer. Joey laughed.
"Deal. It won't happen again." She leaned back onto his shoulder, rubbing one hand absentmindedly over the soft surface of the blanket, checking all over for holes and more loose strings – some kind of factory defect that could be fixed. And for a moment, it was if the world itself were smiling at them – as precarious and stressful as the situation might have been; there was a flicker of recognition between goddaughter and godfather, a certain timely recovery from the plight of peer pressure and children without any kind of constructive outlet.
Yea, that's Joey. Gibbs ran a hand through her hair again and kissed her on the head. No constructive outlet. He smiled.
"Try to avoid things that explode from now on, okay?"
She nodded sadly. He lifted her chin with one finger.
"I love you, Jo." His pale blue eyes weren't piercing anymore – they were soft, malleable, as if they had been melted and re-forged, but not quite fully hardened. Joey thought they looked like glistening pieces of the moon fallen to earth. It made for a beautiful mental picture.
"There's light in your eyes," she stated before she could stop herself.
He smiled again. "Try to catch the rays before they slip away. Then hold onto the moment – you'll never forget this day if you do."
"I love you, Jethro." She gripped his bathrobe collar and clung to him like glue, feeling tears coming – but not sure why.
Author's Chapter Notes:
In my world, Gibbs' family still died, but it turns out that he had a goddaughter he didn't know about. Her name is Joey, and her custody was awarded to Gibbs after her parents died. Although she has a knack for getting into trouble, this story marks the first time she ever did something really big. How will Gibbs handle it?