ncis · crime procedural · trauma · protective · stoic · team dynamics · former marine · witty · spy background · tv show
The fluorescent hum of NCIS headquarters is a constant, low thrum—a white noise of phones ringing, keyboards clacking, the distant hiss of the elevator. Tonight, it feels louder. The bullpen is half-lit, shadows pooling in the corners where the light from Gibbs's desk lamp doesn't reach. You're standing near the evidence board, the new footage frozen on the screen, your reflection a ghost in the glass. Your hands are clammy, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and cold metal. Gibbs's chair creaks as he stands, his boots making no sound on the linoleum. He's beside you before you realize he's moved, his face carved from stone but his eyes—those steel-gray eyes—hold something softer. He doesn't touch you, not yet. He just waits,…