NCIS : Gibbs/Ducky : I Dont Believe It

I DON'T BELIEVE IT

Ashleigh Anpilova

The eleventh part of the Discovering series.

When Hollis is unable to contact Gibbs, she goes around to his house.

An established relationship story.

Written: May 2007. Word count: 480.

I don't believe it.

I simply do not believe it.

I can't believe it.

It's impossible.

I can't have seen what I saw. I can't.

I must be asleep and dreaming.

Except I'm not. I know I'm not. I'm awake. I did see what I saw. And I'm sickened by it.

It's disgusting. Depraved. Sick. Filthy. Sordid. Unnatural.

I've seen many repulsive things in my career, but nothing, nothing compared to what I've just seen.

Nothing.

I only went round to his house because I thought something was wrong. His cell was turned off, and it's never turned off, not even when we - No. I can't bear to think of that.

I can't bear to think of him touching me. Of him - No. I won't think of that. I won't.

I even called the office, but they were vague. They told me he wasn't at his desk, and asked me if they could take a message. I told them thank you, but no.

I was worried about him. Damn it, I had a right to be. We agreed that we were making some kind of commitment. I might have told him that I wasn't looking for promises, but I expected . . .

God knows what I expected. But I didn't expect to see what I saw. And worse still smelled.

He never locks his front door, that's why I've never . . . in his bed. Thank God I haven't. I thought he'd be in the basement, as always; but he wasn't. Nor was he in the kitchen or sitting room, or anywhere. I knew he was there, he had to be, his car was outside. So I went upstairs. I went upstairs and into his bedroom.

I still can't believe it.

I still can't believe what I saw.

That man, that old man, that man who, along with the bitch Abby, made it clear that I wasn't welcome. He was better than she was, but I know people; I saw beneath the veneer of charm. He might fool most people, but not me. Him, him, he was in Jethro's bed, asleep. The covers had been carefully pulled around him, pulled around him by someone else. And the other pillow, the one he wasn't sleeping on, was dented.

But that wasn't the worst thing.

The worst thing was the smell.

The smell that could only be one thing.

The smell of sex.

He and Jethro had been having sex.

It's made me feel dirty. Filthy. Unclean. I'm not sure I'll ever be clean again.

But he won't get away with it.

Oh, no.

Tomorrow I'll call Director Shepard and ask if we can meet, and I'll tell her just what I saw. I'll tell her just what her Senior Field Agent is.

I'll ruin him.

I'll ruin both of them.

He'll pay for this.