#ncis oc

Michelle told her she needed to stay late to work. She stayed too, assuring her it would be better if they left together, but she wasn’t going to leave her here by herself. As Michelle worked, Aurora kept busy at her desk, keeping her in her peripheral at all times.

Sudden ringing startled both women. Aurora picked up her cell, frowning when she saw the caller. She spared a quick glance at Michelle before she answered.

“Tobias? Why are  you calling--”

“Aurora, turn on ZNN.” His tone was sharp enough to cut through glass. He and her father had worked together several times before her father retired. He was a frequent presence in her life, more so than her own father. It was sad to say that they had a much closer bond for it.

“Wha--”

“Now.” She stood from her seat and grabbed the remote off Michelle’s desk. She flipped through the channels until the spotty helicopter footage on ZNN was on screen. She sat down on Gibb’s desk and turned the volume up. “Did you find it?” His question fell on deaf ears as she watched the camera zoom out, showing a burning SUV with two indistinguishable figures nearby. The scene before her was absolute carnage.

“We’re getting reports that an explosion has rocked a neighborhood in the vicinity of the federal plaza. Authorities have closed down the entire area and are not going to give any information at this time.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah.” Aurora shook her head, focusing her attention back on her phone call. “Yeah, I’m seeing it now. Are you there? Are you okay?” Her heart sped up slightly as she bit the tip of her thumb.

“No. I’m in DC, but your dad is there.”

“And with eight suspicious incidents in as little as three weeks, we have no room but to speculate whether or not there will be more attacks.” She turned her attention back to the screen as a woman appeared, standing in front of an ambulance. “We have no word yet on any injuries, but with the explosion as far away as Prince Street, an unconfirmed report said it was a car bomb. NYPD’s emergency services, as well as federal--” She shut the television off, excusing herself. She went around the corner, enough to keep Michelle out of earshot, but within eyesight.

“Why is he in a federal building?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“I thought you knew. Your dad left retirement a few months ago, Kid.” His words stung. She took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder. Michelle had turned the news back on and was watching intently.

“What do you know about his case?” Her attention was back on the phone call.

“Not much. I know they were in New York for ‘nother possible Son of Sam situation, but that’s it. You know your old man’s not one for sharing.”

“Okay, well contact someone on his team and see if he’s there or--”

“That’s the thing Kid. No one can get a hold of anyone on the team.”

She hung up the phone. Checking one more time to make sure Michelle was still distracted, she began dialing her father’s number. It rang and rang and rang but he never picked up. He didn’t pick up the second, third, or fourth time he called either.

Her heart picked up as she looked at her desk. She thought about leaving, driving up to New York and searching every street until she found him. But she couldn’t leave Michelle here unsupervised. If she was the rat, then she couldn’t leave her alone with valuable government secrets. But this was her dad. Sure he hadn’t been present much in her life, less so now, but he was her flesh and blood.

She see-sawed back and forth, unsure what she should do. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she dialed the one person who could help her at a crucial time like this.

“Hello?”

“Hey Mom, it’s Rory.”

“Oh Rory! How are you sweetie? Why are you calling so late? Are you in trouble?” There was a slight panic in her mother’s voice, and she knew she couldn’t tell her about Dad, or her job.

“No! No, I’m fine, but I have a question to ask you. I-- my friend is in a bit of a dilemma.” Her mother hummed, and she could see the knowing smile on her face. “You see, she has a job to do-- a really important job, but someone close to her is in trouble-- really big trouble. But if she goes to the person, she’s risking her job and a lot of people’s safety. But this person is irreplaceable. How does she know which one to do?”

After a moment of silence, her mother finally responded, “Well, your friend does have a big decision. But it ultimately comes down to what they feel is right. However, I will grant you this parcel of wisdom to pass on: jobs are important, yes, but they come and go. It’s the people in our lives we should worry about, because when they’re gone, they’re gone. And nothing can change that.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“Good luck, sweetie.” She disconnected the call, looking at her desk. Her mother was right, of course. She couldn’t abandon her father now, not when his life could be in danger. She returned to her desk, grabbing her jacket and bag.

“Rory? Are you okay?” Michelle stood from her desk, walking over.

“Uh. Yeah.” She spared a quick glance to her desk drawer before bringing herself back to the present. “Yeah. Family emergency. I gotta go.” She left her standing in the bullpen, brows furrowed.

As she assaulted the elevator button, she took her phone out again, dialing yet another person. Thankfully she knew he was up at least.

“Vance.”

“Sir, Agent Lee is still in the building. Last I saw her, she was in the bullpen. I’d have stayed with her but something important has come up and I have to go.

“Agent Baker, I don’t know how things used to run when you were in deep cover, but these types of things need to go through proper channels.” There was an air of annoyance in his voice as he spoke. She rolled her eyes, stepping out into the car lot. “You’re in the middle of a delicate and volatile case, and asking to leave--”

“With all due respect, Director,” she cut in,” I wasn’t asking. She hung up the phone, throwing her stuff into the passenger seat of her car before speeding off into the night. She knew she’d be reamed into the next year when she returned to work, but there were other important things for her to worry about and only one place she could go.

She reached down into her glove box, pulling out her emergency phone and dialing one last person. Her other phone was ringing like crazy, so with her emergency phone between her ear and shoulder, and her left hand on the steering wheel, she fished around until her hand came into contact with the buzzing metal. She powered it off just as the receiver picked up.

“Fornell--”

“Tobias, it’s Rory. Don’t save this number, it’s a burner. I need you to do something for me.”

“Rory--” There was an underlying exasperation tone to his voice.

“Please. I want the case file Dad was working on. If I can follow his steps, I might be able to know what happened.”

“That’s a whole lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘might’s’ Kid, but I’ll see what I can do.”

It was a little more than half an hour before she was pulling into the driveway of a grand house. She let out a puff of air, shaking her head. Fame, it seemed, had treated her father well. She stepped out of the car, making her way to the front of the house. She stopped at the birch tree by the patio, digging a small hole before wrapping her fingers around a tarnished key.

She dusted the dirt off the key, and made her way inside. She let out a low whistle as she took in the exterior. If there was one thing her father was fond of, it was the finer things in life. As she hung her jacket up, there was a deep bark and the sound of running coming at her.

“Mudgie!” Her father’s brown lab came barreling down the hall, tongue flopping in the wind. She dropped to one knee as the dog nearly toppled her over, licking her face excitedly. “I’ve missed you too, boy. You’ve gotten so big!” She knew he didn’t understand what she was saying, but that was okay. She was happy he was just happy to see her.

She stood up, using her sleeve to wipe away the saliva coating her face. Her dad had done quite a lot of renovations since the last time she’d been here. Of course that had been years ago, so she wasn’t too surprised that things had changed.

She turned on the small television he had in his kitchen, watching as the woman still covered the story. She pulled her laptop out of her bag and took a seat at his counter. There was an email containing her father’s case waiting for her. His entire case was at the tip of her fingers, and she had no time to go through every bit and retrace his steps. She squared her shoulders, ignored the panic tears wishing well in her eyes, and set forth.

The hours began to tick by, yet she was no closer to figuring out what was happening with her father than she was about what he was dealing with in New York. She combed through every piece of evidence she could, watched countless videos of murder, and waited for any type of call to let her know he was okay or hurt or dead.

It was hours before she ended up passed out on the counter, computer full of a gruesome case. Her cheek rested on the cold slab of marble, a little bit of drool falling from the corner of her mouth. Her phone was clutched in her hand, the insistent ringing from Vance had ended earlier in the night.

She didn’t hear when Mudgie barked happily as his owner stepped through the threshold, hand tightly wrapped around his glock. She didn’t see the soft look that crossed his face as he reupholstered his weapon. He powered down her laptop, setting it to the side. He went to the living room, pulling out a blanket and draping it over her shoulders.

More hours passed and the smell of fresh coffee pulled her from her slumber. She let out a high-pitched whine, stretching her arms out as her back cracked and groaned from the horrible position she slept in. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and the drool from her mouth, she found her father seated across from her. He had two mugs of coffee in front of him and slid one to her. She gave him a tight-lipped smile as she took the cup, careful to avoid contact.

The tension between them was enough to suffocate anyone. Both looked anywhere but each other, taking sips of their coffee. She’d been worried about him, of course, but now that he was here and alright, she didn’t know what to do or what to say. So she settled for keeping her eyes focused on her cup, letting the hot liquid warm her up.

“So, wanna tell me what you’re doing here, Kid?” His voice brought her eyes up. Of course the first thing he’d say to her would be direct and to the point. Her father was never one for short pleasantries.

“I got a call that a bomb went off in New York City, where you were because, apparently, you’re out of retirement.” Her words were true, but how she said them made them seem unnecessarily harsh. “Then no one can get in contact with you or your team. Where else was I supposed to go?”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he looked down at his cup. “I assumed you’d have gone to your mother’s.” He brought the cup to his mouth, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to worry her. It was bad enough I was panicking, I didn’t need her freaking out too.” She looked down at her cup, guilt creeping up her back. “She doesn’t know, by the way, about what happened or that you’re back at work.” She let out a deep breath, pushing the cup away from her. “Besides, you seem okay, so I guess I should go now.”

She made a move to stand, but he was faster than his age let on. He stood in front of her, both hands up to stop her. She let out a breath, giving him a pointed look.

“Stay, let me make you breakfast.”

“It’s two-thirty in the afternoon.”

“It’s never too late for Dad’s special pancakes.” He gave her a hopeful smile, and somewhere deep down inside her, it warmed her heart to see him making an effort.

“Only if they’re chocolatechip.” She sat back down, bringing the coffee back towards her. He clapped his hands together, moving around to grab an apron from a nearby pantry.

“Your wish, is my command.”

As he began pulling out the necessary ingredients, she went to the living room where his albums were and picked up one of her favorites. The wonderful sound of the Beatles filled the living room and the kitchen, and she listened as her father hummed along. She returned to her seat at the counter, watching as he expertly made his way around the kitchen, just like the rare times he was home when she was a child.

The fragrance of cake batter and chocolate swirled around her as he set a fresh plate in front of her. The two of them chowed down in silence, letting John and Paul fill the room.

Once the music died out and their plates were almost empty, she collected them, setting to work on washing the dishes. He poured them fresh cups of coffee and waited until she was seated before he spoke again.

“It’s been a long time, Kid.”

“Over seven years.” Another awkward pause settled between them. “I didn’t think you’d leave retirement.”

“Jason, uh, he resigned after a particularly nasty case. I offered to come back.” He licked his lips, taking a sip of his coffee. He cleared his throat, setting the cup down. “Your mom told me you got a new job.”

“I didn’t realize you and Mom still talked.”

“Our marriage wasn’t a bad one, just a badly timed one. And we’ll always be in each other’s lives, especially because of you, Rory. So come one, tell me about the new job.”

“I, uh, I still work for NCIS. I just kind of have a desk job now.”

“Desk job? Didn’t take you as the type to sit around all day. What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, I’m a field agent on the NCIS Major Case Response Team.” She took a sip of her coffee and he let out a chuckle.

“Should’ve known. Too much like your old man.”

Once again a thick silence fell over them, like a fog on a rainy morning. Several minutes passed where the only sound around them was Mudgie’s desperate whining and them taking sips of their coffee. She glanced at the clock and saw she’d missed an entire day of work. She was screwed seven ways to Sunday, but that was another day away.

“Well, it’s been great catching up Dad, but I have to go. I’ve missed work and I haven’t been home in over a day now.” She stood up quickly, gathering her stuff and making haste for the front door. She paused at the door, hand gripping the door handle. She glanced over her shoulder to see Mudgie had returned to her father’s side, resting his head on his leg. “I’m really happy you’re okay.”

“Me too. If you want, we can do dinner sometime. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.”

The last thing she saw before she closed the door was her father’s smile, something she hadn’t seen in a long time. There was a bittersweet silence in the moments that followed. She looked down at her phone as she let out a deep sigh. She had several missed calls from Vance, Michelle, and Brent, and only one missed call from Gibbs. Somehow, that terrified her more than Vance’s missed calls.

The next day was probably worse than not knowing if her father was alive or not. Thankful as she was that he was, now she’d have to face the two people who had a say over her livelihood. As she gripped the steering wheel on her way to work, she didn’t know if it’d be Gibbs or Vance that was going to yell at her, and she didn’t know which she’d prefer.

She swerved into the parking lot, narrowly missing Agent McGee as she found her parking space. She squared her shoulders and gathered her things. Just like her mother said, this was a job.

“You drive almost as bad as Ziva.” McGee was standing there with an annoyed look on his face.

“Yes, well, depending on Gibbs’ mood, you might not have to worry about me much longer.”

“What?” His face fell as he fell in step with her. “Why? What’d you do?” They stepped into the elevator together. McGee didn’t mind being a few minutes late today.

“I didn’t show up yesterday and my phone was shut off.” She swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she reminded herself to take deep and steady breaths.

“Well, do you at least have a good reason?”

“I like to think so.”

McGee gave her a pat on the back as the elevator doors opened to reveal her level. She took one step at a time, keeping her head held high as she found her way to the bullpen.

Michelle and Brent were bent over their respective desks, focused on the files in front of them. They didn’t hear her as she carefully set her stuff behind her desk. She was mere inches from sitting down when a loud and clear voice rang throughout the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You.” Gibbs stood at the other end of the bullpen, coffee in hand and eyes laser-focused on Aurora. He marched his way towards her, setting his coffee on his desk as he did so. As he passed her, she followed obediently. Vance had warned her about his elevator interrogations. She kept her chin up until he stopped the elevator, turning to look at her.

“You wanna tell me where you were yesterday?”

“Virginia.”

“What the hell were you doing in Virginia that was so damn important?” He raised his brows, staring at her expectantly. She had to tell him the truth about her.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet. She handed him her drivers license and the picture she kept tucked behind it. He glanced down at them. His brows furrowed as he held them further away from him, and she had to restrain herself from laughing.

“My real name is Aurora Rossi. Baker is my mom’s maiden name. My dad is SSA David Rossi, renowned crime author and federal agent. Two nights ago, it was brought to my attention that he left retirement, when I got a call that a bomb went off where he was during a case he was working.

“That picture is one of the few pictures where me, him, and my mom are all together. After their divorce, my dad’s career began taking off. He was home less and less. Days between visits turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and finally, months turned into years. Before yesterday, it’d been almost a decade since I last spoke to or saw him.”

There was silence between them. She felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and in that moment, she didn’t care if Gibbs was angry or not. He handed her back the picture and ID, allowing her to put them back before he spoke again.

“Why don’t you use his name?”

She couldn’t resist letting out a scoff. “Isn’t it obvious? Anything I did in life would have been because of him, not because of me. My accomplishments, my work, my life would be his, not mine. And I hate groupies.”

He let out a soft chuckle as he turned back towards the elevator. He exhaled, glancing over to her. “Rule eight: never take anything for granted. You did the right thing, Kid.”

Hearing him say that made her feel better. Though she wasn’t out of the woods just yet, she felt more confident facing Vance, knowing Gibbs backed her up. She let a tiny smile slip through as he flipped a switch to get the elevator moving again. But just before the doors opened, he reached up and slapped the back of her head.

“Rule three: never be unreachable.”