#ny fics

Su Lingyan learned early on that loving people is pretty troublesome. 

 When they were kids and her little sister would fall and scrape her knee, she'd rush to her side and helplessly look at the leaking blood, too young to know what to do other than fret. Her sister's wailing would make tears rise into her own eyes, and she'd sobbingly call for her mother. People always used to say that it was "the twin connection" that made her that way, but she knew that wasn't the case. She'd cry whenever her sister did because she loved her sister, and to love someone is to carry the burden of their pain along with your own. She didn't particularly mind it, really, because she always thought it was worth it.  

 In a way, pain and love were just like her and her sister. Twins who could never be separated from each other. Since she's joined Qiong Dong Peak, even with all the duties and training of the head disciple, she still unfailingly exchanges letters back-and-forth to her sister, who in turn has been given on the responsibility of taking on the family mantle. Their bond is forever unbroken, of that she is certain.

 After the time she spent at the sect, specifically as an inner disciple at Qiong Dong Peak, Su Lingyan could only affirm her previous judgment thanks to a new experience. 

 Su Lingyan loves her shizun. She is peculiar and outstanding in many ways, but not in this one. Everyone loves Shizun, from fellow disciples to hallmasters and other peak lords — with the exception of the Qing Jing Peak Lord, who as far she could tell hates everything and everyone, himself included. And she'd initially been happy to love shizun, because he seemed easy to love. She didn't need to worry about shizun injuring himself, because shizun is the strongest cultivator in all of the cultivation world. She didn't need to worry about fighting with shizun, because shizun is kind and understanding and wise. She didn't need to worry about him in any capacity, because no man is more reliable than shizun, who undoubtedly can hold his ground against any foe. Shi-mei has always been the sort to get angry fairly quickly and thus, easy to antagonize. Shizun, however, has a level of patience that is definitely inhumane. Su Lingyan has accompanied him to many a diplomatic meeting, and has gotten the opportunity to watch the meager smile with which he could destroy a sect's entire political credibility in a matter of seconds, with a ruthlessness never undeserved. 

 She always thought it a good thing that shizun is so beloved. As far as she was concerned, people are more pleasant to be around when they like you than when they don't. They are more likely to be considerate, and way less likely to make a nuisance out of themselves. Hell, they might even prove useful at some point. However, the more time she spends at Qing Dong — where, in the learning of laws and governance and justice, lays the cunningness of exploiting the little loopholes and spotting them alike — the more she realizes that is not always the case. 

 Love is transactional. There are criterias one must adhere to to be loved by a person, conditions that are ever flexible not only from one person to another, but from the same one at times. Most of the time, not even the person themselves are conscious of the existence of those rules. All they know is that they love the object of their affection, and as far they are aware, everything they so adore about them are things they realized later on, rather than the reason for which that affection exists. They're wrong, but that doesn't matter. The beauty of interpersonal connections is better experienced in ignorance, she supposes. Otherwise, those too become like governance, with little leeway and far too much at stake. She doesn't hate that even a little bit, but most people do. 

 She thinks she is starting to understand most people a bit too intimately. 

 Shizun's quarters are vast and elegant, hues of whites fading into the beautiful wooden work of doors and floors and windows. The greenery is lush but restrained — Shizun takes care of it himself when he has the time. His quarters, too, are almost always spotless. She's heard the cleaning ladies speak of it fondly once; less work they have to do, less robes to wash. Something twists painfully in her stomach. She sets the teacup carefully on the table, folding her hands into her sleeves in the way she was taught was most elegant and hid her distress best.

 "A-Yang?" Shizun says, his voice inquisitive and slightly concerned. She is fairly certain she has gotten almost perfect at hiding any discomfort, but shizun is far more perceptive than people tend to give him credit for. He imperceptibly leans a bit closer, dark and kind eyes looking down and searching for her own. She is rather tall for a woman, but shizun is very tall even for a man. She feels like a child under his gaze.

 They are seated facing one another, something Shizun has been very insistent on since he took her in, although she is fairly certain it is extremely presumptuous for a disciple to sit on the same level as the sect leader. From her position, she is looking into the neat, minimalistic haven, whereas her shizun is facing what is behind her — the green yard. She refuses to meet his eyes, fixing her gaze on his chest, where she can see some of his inky hair cascade his simpler black robes, the most luxurious outer layer discarded somewhere inside. "I am following," she reassures.

 "I have no doubt that you are," shizun replies gently, in that placating tone that says 'that is not what I mean and you know it'. At Qiong Dong Peak, every disciple's biggest nightmare is not the sect leader's wrath, which has never befallen them. It is his disappointment. That is another way in which she does not stand out. "Have your lessons been piling on too much?" He wonders out loud, slighty tilting his head. "A-Yang, I always insist on my disciples' health as the ultimate priority," he says as if she out of all people wasn’t familiar with that fact, "so if you feel too pressured, feel free to inform me, and I will decrease ths amount of duties assigned to you."

 Su Lingyang dares a glance at shizun's face and immediately regrets it. His thick eyebrows are creased in a manner she could almost read, worry and, of course, a hint of guilt. She hates it. 

 Perharps a bit too late, especially for the Qiong Dong Peak head disciple, she had the sudden epiphany that to be liked by so many people, one needs to fit the criteria for all of them. And now she cannot unsee the intentionality of it all. There is no performance in her shizun's worry and kindness, but there absolutely is in the slight quirk of his lips that never leaves, the mildness in his expression. Although these are shizun's quarters, he is still dressed in an attire — which, while simpler — entirely proper, something he can walk into a peak lords' meeting in and no one would bat an eye. He hadn't even known Su Lingyang was coming. Even if he had, she is nothing but a disciple, and not any disciple, his disciple; she definitely is not worth this level of propriety. 

 She fiddles with her teacup, keeps the movement of her finger against the fine work of it on the bottom, where it is unseen. "Shizun," she starts, hoping he will assuage her worries with his upcoming answer. "Were you expecting someone?"

 Yue Qingyuan doesn't so much as blink; she can still feel his heavy gaze on her face. "No," he tells her immediately, definitely not assuaging her worries. His tone goes soft, "You have not interrupted anything, A-Yang."

 "That's a relief," she bites out, already feeling the guilt that always accompanies the very few and far in-between times she had lied to her shizun. There was very rarely any reason to lie to shizun. And whenever she did, she could swear that shizun knew he was being lied to and simply saw no reason to prod. After all, shizun has taught her that some truths are better left unsaid, and shizun is never one to go back on his word. 

 She realizes she stayed quiet for too long when shizun speaks again. "A-Yang, is something bothering you?" Well, in fact, something is indeed bothering her. She is supposed to become the next sect leader — she cannot be this transparent. She knows shizun is more observant than most, and knows her tells better than anyone (only her sister can compare), but even so, she is lacking. She still hopes that's why he's making her seem so easy to read. 

 What is bothering her is that everyone likes shizun, but there is no way that a single human being can hold within himself such stark traits, traits that are even contradictory at times. The logical conclusion is that shizun acts according to who he's interacting with, which would mean that the third party being left out would in fact be shizun himself.

 Or maybe, this is simply another tactic shizun employs in his duty as a sect leader. A pleasant sect leader, after all, is good for both those inside of the sect and its foreign affairs. 

 Will she have to do that too? Her heart squeezes. She understands better than most that in the world of sect affairs — be it familiar or external — sincerity comes second to impression. Seeming sincere in one's act to establish themself in the political field is more often than not encouraged — being sincere, not so much. She always understood that as leaving a good or at least a neutral impression through a few diplomatic tricks she has learned over the years; how to maneuver from uncomfortable subjects, how to say an acceptable amount of words without actually giving useful information, how to only ever hit from under the table. Shizun isn't only like that when he has business.

 She finally looks up to meet shizun's concerned eyes. The worry is almost muted, swarmed by the gentleness of a still pond — just enough to be there, allowing her emotions to infuse the air between them, carefully retaining himself. Had she not been looking for that familiar look of guilt, she wouldn't have noticed it. 

 She doesn't mean to blurt it out. "Will I have to pretend even in the presence of my close ones?" Shizun is very fond of her, that much she is certain of. Shizun likes a lot of people, but some more than others. She doesn't think he tolerates her; shizun treats her as her father used to, when she still lived in the mansion. Throughout their conversation, not once had he stopped smiling. 

 Not even as he tilts his head minutely to the side, careful confusion on his face. "I am not sure I am following, A-Yang."

 She bites her lip, a bad habit she has been learning to get rid of. Shizun says that during negotiations, no one should know anything more than what you willingly give them. "When I become sect leader. Will I have to act as such in front of everyone?"

 "No, I do not believe such is the case," shizun shakes his head, still sounding a tad mysitfied. "You are very bright, A-Yang, so you must already know that certain things should never be said. But other than that, you are allowed to trust your dear ones enough to not pretend in their company." But you do not trust me, she thinks bitterly, childishly. "Even when you take on my position," shizun continues, "you don't suddenly become nothing more than Sect Leader Su. You are still Su Lingyang. Being sect leader is simply your duty. You don't choose between being one or the other, both can coexist in their respective environments."

 Su Lingyang knows it's risky. She says it anyway. 

 "Is that what you do?"

 This time, shizun does blink at her. The smile on his face doesn't falter, it just turns exasperated. Su Lingyang has always thought that black is a bit of an odd color on shizun, so dark and gloomy on a man so mild-tempered. She suddenly doesn't think it's so odd anymore; she can't see through the fabric at all. "Ah, so that’s what has been on your mind," shizun says as if he has figured out everything. He probably has. 

 He shakes his head again, the quirk of his lip turning wry. It makes her irrationally angry to even think that a man so capable of securing deals could be getting the short end of the stick in anything. "I am... not the best example for you, A-Yang." He says, as if he isn’t the best sect leader currently alive. Su Lingyang would strangle herself with a rope if she had to be the disciple of Huan Hua Palace's old man. 

 "The lines could blurr for me, at times. But I am still Yue Qingyuan, before I am Sect Leader Yue," he doesn’t sound very thrilled about it. "I try my best on both fortes." He adds after a moment. 

 She frowns. "So you don't merge them completely?" Because if so, that would mean shizun does not do what he does because he is the sect leader, he appeals to everyone because he is Yue Qingyuan.

 That, in her humble opinion, sounds much worse. She is almost tempted to continue her line of questioning, but already asking shizun about himself is less than proper. Most shizuns would not accept such behavior. She knows shizun will be kind to her, but she has no intention of taking advantage of that kindness, let alone of pushing too far and disappointing shizun.

 Her ears turn red as she decides her next course of action, but she is determined. There is a ball of dread in her chest that is telling her she is on the edge of something huge, something she won't like and still won't be able to do anything about. Shizun always tells her to trust her instincts.

 "Shizun holds up very well on one forte."

 "Oh?"

 "Shizun is a very good shizun."

The man shook himself, “My apologies.  Should haves have no place in reality.” 

“Your shoulder will be tender for a few days.”  Palmer reported, “And you have several shallow scratches near the bruised area.  Other than that, you were remarkably lucky.”

“Yeah, lucky.”  You echoed.  Your mind replayed the moment when you were guided out of the water by your saviour.  You were certain that it was a male because of the timbre of his voice and the broad chest that you felt pressing against your back.

You blew out a breath and Palmer patted you on your uninjured shoulder.  “On the plus side, your shoulder is now very colourful.”  You knew Jimmy was trying to cheer you up but it didn’t quite have the desired effect.  Judging by his expression, Ducky was also unimpressed with Jimmy’s words.

“Come Mr. Palmer, we are needed elsewhere.”

Ducky and Palmer were gone moments later, leaving you alone with your thoughts.  The familiar voice of your rescuer and the Spanish term of what you guessed was endearment only pointed to one person being your mysterious rescuer.  The fact that he fled once he was sure that you were safe to avoid the emergency vehicles rushing to your location further solidified your belief in your rescuer’s identity.  Despite the theory being clear in your mind, you knew that you needed the proof to back it up.

The sound of a stone skittering across the pavement jolted you from your reverie.  Glancing across the cordoned off road, you tried to identify the source of the noise.  Your team stood in a circle a fair distance from the ambulance but close enough that they could react quickly if necessary.  Your eyes landed on Bishop who discreetly motioned with her hand in Sterling’s direction.  Following the movement, you noticed that Sterling’s head was tipped slightly to the right and he was staring straight at your teammates.

Sterling hadn’t noticed your gaze and although you were grateful for that small mercy, dread curled in your stomach as you realised that the reason that he was focused so intently on your team was because he was reading Tony’s lips as he spoke.

Not wanting to take the chance that Sterling would notice you watching him, you shifted on the floor of the ambulance and focused on the tree on the opposite side of the road.

“Sterling has nothing to gain from eavesdropping on Tony’s words or any conversations.  Because of our deal, he’ll have access to the NCIS network and resources.  And despite our history, no one on the team is the type to withhold information on a case.”

No clearer to figuring out the motive of Sterling’s actions, your gaze fell to the base of the tree and you spotted a butterfly flittering around it.  You watched the butterfly fly around the tree in a circle twice and a small smile touched your lips.  You were always filled with a sense of wonder at the fact that nature continued to cycle through the circle of life whenever there was chaos.

The butterfly returned to its starting position and you thought that it would complete another lap around the tree.  Halfway through its third lap, the butterfly abruptly abandoned its lap of the tree, choosing instead to shoot off in a completely different direction.

Clarity descended on you.  You weren’t the intended target of the car chase.  Sterling was.  That would explain why he was eavesdropping on the team’s conversation.  He wanted to know what they knew about the car chase and the case.

“Barba knew where we were which means that someone had to tip him off.  Yes, Sterling’s agents are conspicuous and Barba is persuasive but Sterling would have been picky when it came to his team.  He would have wanted agents that are dedicated to the cause.  His cause.  No one on the NCIS team would even consider the possibility of betraying one of their own.  That leaves only one person who could have a connection to Rafael Barba.”

Arms wrapped around your shoulders firmly but gently and your eyes met Abby’s pale green eyes.  Abby was an expressive person and today was no different.  Her eyes swirled with a mixture of emotions.  You identified relief, concern, and a touch of fear.

“I’m okay Abby.”  You promised her.

Abby pulled back from the hug and fixed you with a doubtful expression.  “Don’t lie!  You know I hate that.”  You looked over at your boss, who had walked over with Abby, for support and then you noticed that he was wearing an identical expression to Abby.  As soon as you saw that expression, you knew that you would have to convince both of them and that would be just as challenging as the car chase and your dip in the river that you endured.

“Abby.  I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Her disbelieving expression shifted into a critical one, “Gibbs.  Make her stay home until she’s better.”

“No.”

“No?”  Gibbs repeated.  “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t leave the case to us.”

You lifted your chin and gazed up at your boss defiantly before darting over to Abby and peering over her shoulder.  Just as you suspected, Sterling’s gaze was now lingering on the three of you but he was moving his eyes around the scene to make it seem like he wasn’t staring outright at you. 

“Abby, can you move to the left?”

Abby stepped to her left, closer to Gibbs.

“Now I need you to open your umbrella.”

“(Surname)!”

“I promise you there’s a reason and I’ll explain everything.”

Your boss’ eyes searched your face and with the tiniest, imperceptible nod from him, Abby opened her umbrella so that it was shielding your small group.

“Rafael Barba was the one who pulled me from the river.”

“What?” Gibbs demanded harshly.  Years of working alongside Gibbs had taught you that that ‘what’ didn’t mean he didn’t believe what you were saying, it meant that he was angry at the thought of a criminal escaping justice.  You also knew that he wasn’t asking you to repeat yourself.  The thought occurred to you that he could refuse your request and dismiss you from the case anyway because of Rule 10 but you pushed that thought to the side and continued your explanation.

“I noticed Sterling lip reading earlier.  I need you to find out who authorised Barba’s freedom and why without him knowing.  I have a few ideas but I need something concrete before I accuse him.”

The anger on Gibbs’ face remained as he processed your words.  He and Abby came to the same conclusion that you had.

“You weren’t the target.  Sterling was.”  Your boss’ voice was tight.

You nodded, “Whatever he’s done, it’s coming back to haunt him.  If he had a hand in Barba’s release, that might explain the ex-ADA’s interest but I get the feeling it’s more than that.  Besides, why would Barba try to kill him if Sterling engineered his release from prison?  When we were in the supermarket, his words didn’t sound right.  They sounded too rehearsed.  But I think that was the reason he gave his agents before they journeyed to DC under the cover of the external review.  There has to be someone else involved and they’re close to Sterling.  That’s why he’s worried and why he needs us on the case.”

Your boss took in your defiant expression and the conviction in your voice, “I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you, boss.”

Gibbs jerked his head in your direction, “Keep an eye on her.”  He instructed Abby before striding away.

“Yes ma’am.”  Abby saluted before closing her umbrella.

“I feel like I should be worried right now.”

“You’re not leaving my sight.”  Abby vowed as Sterling made his way over to you.

“The cars are nearly ready to take us back to your base.  I don’t think that the two of us are such a bad luck charm that another car chase will occur if we return to NCIS headquarters in the same car.”  Sterling commented.  Taking in his profile, you noted that his brow was wrinkled and you wondered how much of that was due to the fact that he couldn’t eavesdrop on your conversation with Gibbs and Abby.  His frown reinforced your theory that he was worried about someone close to him being hurt by Barba.

“(Name) will be riding with me and Ziva.”  Abby retorted.

Sterling smirked, “I suppose that’s where you learned the manoeuvres.”

Knowing that he was referring to the unorthodox methods you had used to remove your pursuers, you scoffed in response.  “Those manoeuvres saved your life.  The people tailing us weren’t interested in filing an insurance form for lost monies.”

You pushed yourself upwards and climbed out of the ambulance.  With the blanket still around your shoulders, you walked confidently over to Ziva with Abby following half a step behind you.

“Nice attire.”  Ziva greeted you.

“I’m hoping to bring the poncho look back.”

“In that case, you’re wearing it the wrong way.”  Ziva quipped as she moved over to her car.

On the spur of the moment, you decided to climb into the back and close your eyes.  Ziva seemed to sense your fatigue because her driving was calmer, though she did spit out insults in Hebrew five times throughout the drive.  That may have been because another driver did something stupid on the road.  Or because Abby was filling her in on what you had told her and Gibbs.

Either way, when you felt the car slowing down, you opened your eyes and were struck by the familiarity of the NCIS base.  The façade of the building hadn’t changed at all during your short absence.  The gardens were nicely pruned and the lawns were cropped and green.

On the inside, you were willing to bet that it was a completely different story.  You could imagine the bustling people and the level of noise within the building.  When the car came to a complete stop, you unwillingly unfastened your seatbelt and climbed out of the car.  In silence, the three of you climbed into the lift and Ziva pressed the button.

You leaned against the bars on the inside of the lift and wrapped your hands around the bar at the bottom.  As the lift climbed, you found yourself regretting that you had pushed to continue to be included in the case.  Now that your adrenalin had worn off, all you wanted to do was curl up underneath the covers of your bed and stay there for several days.

The lift doors open to reveal Doctor Chilton standing close to Tony’s desk.  His eyes zeroed in on you and scanned you from head to toe.  Again, you were struck by the feeling that he had more than a professional concern for your welfare.

“Your team told me what happened when they returned.”

“That’s strange.  I thought you had been informed prior to that.”

The tap of Doctor Chilton’s fingers against the head of his cane revealed his nervousness.  He rallied quickly, “I’ve been asked to conduct a psychological evaluation.  From what I’ve heard, you have some experience with those.”

“Identifying meaningless splotches on paper is not an adequate evaluation.”  Ziva snapped.

“That practice was discontinued years ago.”

“But you do not deny that your methods are questionable, yes?”

“My methods are not up for dispute.  Either (Name) undergoes the psychological evaluation or forfeits her right to work as an agent.”

“How can you still think that pushing (Name) into a corner will get you what you want?  Didn’t you learn anything from what happened in the conference room?” Abby demanded.

“I now know not to trust Anthony DiNozzo with keys.”  Doctor Chilton fired back.

“Enough all of you!”  You commanded, “I’ll do the evaluation.”

Doctor Chilton grinned smugly, “Glad to hear it.”

 In an effort to maintain your control, you pressed your tongue to the back of your teeth.  “You probably want me to leave any sharp objects on my desk before I do this review, right?”

Doctor Chilton stiffened and his smirk dropped.  You immediately knew that you had unknowingly touched on a sore subject.

“That would be greatly appreciated.”  He ground out.

Abby held out her hand, “Give them to me.  I’ll take care of your gun and badge.”

You handed them over and then pulled up your right pant leg to reveal the hilt of the knife that you had stashed in your sock.  Grasping the hilt, you pulled it out of your sock and handed it to Abby hilt first.

Abby accepted the knife without an ounce of surprise.  Ziva too wore a disinterested expression.  Doctor Chilton was the only one affected by the reveal of your weapon.  He coughed and cast a wary glance at your once again covered leg as you, Abby and Ziva stepped out of the elevator.

“That would be quite uncomfortable to walk with.”

“Better to have a bit of discomfort than have your survival depend on a knife that you don’t have.”

Doctor Chilton gave no reply and moved past you, leading you to the conference room.

“Hey, (Name).”  Tony whispered from his seat at his desk.  His right hand was curled into a fist and resting on his desk.  You saw Doctor Chilton stop and turn around to face the bullpen.

You raised your eyebrows, “What, Tony?”

Tony opened his hand to reveal a key.  With an underarm throw, he tossed the key in your direction and you stretched out your uninjured arm to catch the key.

“You might need it,” he winked.

You grinned in response.  The sound of someone clearing their throat reached your ears and you twisted your head to look in Doctor Chilton’s direction.  He was frowning at you impatiently and you made sure that he continued to watch you as you slid the key into your pocket.  It didn’t take you too long to draw level with him and without a word, Doctor Chilton resumed walking down the hall.

Unlike last time, there were no Interpol agents guarding the doors of the conference room.  Doctor Chilton moved into the room and after casting a disapproving look around it, sat down at the head of the table and gazed at you expectantly.  You understood that you had two choices: take a seat in one of the chairs on Doctor Chilton’s side which would place you closer to the Doctor than you wanted to be or give into your feelings of pettiness and sit at the other end of the table.  If you chose this option, you would run the risk of Doctor Chilton terminating the psychological evaluation and dismissing you from NCIS.

You sat in the chair on Doctor Chilton’s right.

The doctor laced his fingers together and examined you, “That was quite the ordeal you went through.”

“Are you referring to the car chase or the case with SVU?”

He frowned, “Why would I refer to your case with SVU?”

You leaned forwards and propped your chin on your hands, “Because you’re working for Barba.”  You replied simply.

“Disorientation is a normal side effect of any trauma.  I-”

“Don’t try that.  I know it was you who contacted Barba and told him where Sterling was.”  You didn’t know that for certain but after you had finished your sentence, Doctor Chilton’s hand twitched on his cane again.

“You just weren’t expecting me to be in the car with him.”  You continued, “Somehow Barba found out that Sterling wasn’t the only occupant of the car and he risked being recaptured to pull me out of the river.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to try that?”  You barked out, dropping your hands to the table, “Stop treating me like I’m stupid.  If you’ve done your homework on me and I’m pretty sure that you have, you would know that I was part of the BAU.  Our job was to use information and observe behavioural ticks and tells to determine who was guilty so that we could save the innocent.  Your tell, Doctor Chilton, is that when you’re nervous, your hand twitches on your cane.  I could go into the psychology of the action but I think I’ll spare the both of us that lecture.”

Doctor Chilton’s hand twitched again and you fixed him with a frosty glare as you stood up, “We’re done here.  I’m going to go back to my team and figure out why Barba was released from federal prison and by whom.  In the meantime, I suggest you return to Baltimore as soon as possible.  It won’t look good for you when we find out why you are working with Barba.”

The door to the conference room opened and you pivoted around to see who interrupted.  Your eyes landed on Director Vance and before he opened his mouth to speak, you knew from the aged look in his brown eyes that the case had somehow just become even more complicated.