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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1/1
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Strange Day

Summary:

A mysterious case brings some strangers to NCIS. This could be the strangest day of Gibbs' life.

Work Text:

Slight spoilers Season 6 (NCIS), Harry Potter And the Order of the Phoenix

 

 

This case was too complicated and Gibbs was getting damned frustrated. A Navy Lt. Commander had died two days ago, attacked by something in his house.  What that something was hadn’t been determined yet. There had been a brownish-golden substance in a small puddle below the broken window. Definitely not any blood Gibbs had ever seen.  Tony had plucked a few green hairs from the broken window, making comments about Shrek and Monsters Inc, which even Gibbs realized were popular movies for kids these days. 

 

When they had found a carved bowl with a silvery liquid, Ducky began to look very concerned. The medical examiner had even tried to rush Gibbs out. He’d gone toe to toe with Duck for over an hour before Ducky had backed down very unhappily.

 

Abby had all the evidence now, had been working night and day on it, but she had no chemical composition on the hairs, or the brownish or silvery substances yet. They had no leads, no solid ideas, and it was over forty-eight hours in. Vance was breathing down his neck, and Gibbs was frustrated. He’d gone out to get coffee, to think and try to figure out an angle on this. Gibbs himself didn’t even have any theories.

 

The team hadn’t been much help either. Tony’d been uncharacteristically quiet and subdued since finding the hairs, Ziva and McGee tossed out a couple of options, each sounding more and more crazy, Abby had chirped about aliens and crop circles, and Ducky had been cagey, not at all like himself. Gibbs knew he shouldn’t continue snapping at the team, and he hoped coffee would help his mood. Something had to break on this. Commander Grant deserved justice.

 

When he got back into the squad room, there was a guy sitting on his desk, a guy who could have been a relation, even though Gibbs had never seen him before. There was a striking resemblance, from the blue eyes almost the same shade as his and the facial structure. But there was something even more unique about him that drew Gibbs’ eye. Maybe it was the heavy coat or the suspenders that looked so old-fashioned on such a young guy. Or maybe it was his arrogance.

 

The guy was sitting on his desk. On his desk! Swinging his legs back and forth, a suggestive leer on his face. McGee looked pale and sweaty, and even Ziva was nervous and unsettled.

 

“Boss?” Tony said, gulping hard.

 

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs drawled sarcastically.

 

“Um, this is Jack Harkness, Captain Jack Harkness. He’s from the Torchwood Institute in the UK. He’s here to help us with Commander Grant’s case.”


“Oh?” Gibbs asked, arching an eyebrow. “What is Torchwood?” It wasn’t anything he’d ever heard of before. MI-5, MI-6, yeah he was aware of them. But Torchwood?

 

“Investigative agency. Trust me, Gibbs. He can help.”

 

Gibbs looked over at Ziva and McGee, who both shrugged. Gibbs didn’t want to play nice with the smirky, arrogant guy who dared to sit on his desk as if he belonged there, and he sighed, pointing to DiNozzo. “With me. And you get the hell off my desk.”

 

“Yes, sir. I live to serve,” the guy shot back, giving Gibbs a challenging look, a sardonic little smile on his face. The Brit had an American accent. Strange… Gibbs’ free hand clenched into a fist and he gulped his coffee. This was going to be a long strange day.

 

As soon as Tony was in the elevator, Gibbs hit the down button and flicked the emergency stop switch. He rounded on Tony, knowing he had to look as pissed as he felt. “You called in someone else before talking to me? What the hell ya thinking, DiNozzo?”

 

“We need him, Gibbs. He can help us figure it out.” Tony looked a little sick to his stomach, but he was standing his own ground. Gibbs was strangely proud of that. His agent had grown so much in the past year.

 

“What the hell is Torchwood anyway, DiNozzo? Never heard of it. They don’t have clearances…they…”

 

“You wouldn’t have,” Tony replied. “I learned about it a while ago, completely by accident, Boss. Doesn’t really matter how I know. You know I spent some time in England when I was a teenager and I went back every so often. Made some good friends there. Anyway, I was in Wales, and ran into Jack and some trouble and…he can help, Gibbs. And don’t worry about clearances. Jack deals with sensitive stuff all the time. I know he can help us break the case wide open.”

 

“How?” Gibbs asked, growling. He was losing patience fast. Even a couple more gulps of scalding coffee didn’t calm him at all. He gave Tony his most annoyed glare.

 

“He can help us identify what killed Grant. I can’t explain more yet. Jack will. Let him see the body and the stuff we can’t identify. If he can’t help, he’ll leave. And Vance will understand. Let Jack talk with him. Trust me here, Gibbs.”

 

“Don’t like it and Vance will hate it,” Gibbs muttered, flipping the emergency switch again. “Keep his ass off my desk, DiNozzo. Or else I’ll move it for him. With force.” Gibbs carefully didn’t agree to or deny the request. He needed more information first. And maybe Ducky had heard of this Torchwood place. If anyone had, it’d be Duck.

 

The elevator doors opened on the autopsy floor, and Gibbs jerked his thumb upward, signaling that Tony was to return to the squad room. Tony nodded, visually gulping even though he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Something was going on there. DiNozzo looked really rattled. Unable to decipher the look, unhappy about the new development, unsettled that he couldn’t read the agent he’d worked with the longest, Gibbs drained his coffee. At least he understood the bitter brew and the way it worked on his system. At least that reaction made sense.

 

When Gibbs walked into Autopsy, his steps faltered. Ducky and Palmer weren’t alone, two strangers were with them. The woman had purple hair and looked unique even to Gibbs’ eyes, and he dealt with Abby’s fashion every day. She was with a man a bit older, a bit sickly looking, and worn even though Gibbs had the sense he wasn’t as old as he appeared. They wore strange clothes and seemed…not quite the same as Ducky, Palmer, or anyone else Gibbs knew, but he couldn’t identify the differences immediately. It was more a sense rather than anything outright.

 

“Duck?” he asked, and there was a wealth of meaning in that word.

 

“Ah, Jethro,” Ducky said, begging him to stay calm with a pleading glance. “I asked some dear friends of mine to consult, since we were at quite an impasse with regard to the case, and I thought they could help.”

 

“What agency?” Gibbs asked, growling the words. He was fed up with all of this bull. It was taking time away from the case.

 

“Not an agency exactly, Jethro. But…” Ducky sighed, looking at the strangely dressed people. “Be polite, Jethro. Nymphadora and Remus have traveled quite far to assist us. All the way from the United Kingdom, in fact.”

 

“I don’t have time for this, Duck!” Gibbs turned to leave.

 

“You must make time.” Ducky said in a voice laced with steel. He stepped in front of him, placing a hand on Gibbs’ chest. “They will be able to help. You don’t understand…”


“DiNozzo has someone from another agency upstairs, you have these strangers. None of you asked me if we needed a consult. Who is the supervisory agent here, Duck? I miss the announcement?”

 

“No, Jethro, you didn’t. Of course you know that you are in charge. It’s just…the substance and the bowl that we saw at the scene of the crime reminded me. I knew I’d seen it before and these dear young people can help us determine where it came from. And what it is. Jethro, we need their expertise. They are the only ones who can identify it with complete and utter certainity.”

 

“Mind if we do a little demonstration?” the man asked, addressing Ducky and ignoring Gibbs.

 

“Well, yes, Remus, my dear boy. If you must. Mr. Palmer, please have Abigail prepare the bowl and substance. Remember what Nymphadora and Remus instructed.” When Palmer nodded and scurried out, Ducky sighed.

 

“Very well then, Remus. Nothing too theatrical. Special Agent Gibbs is a good man, just resistant.”

 

Gibbs folded his arms over his chest arching an eyebrow. The man pulled out a piece of wood and uttered something that sounded vaguely Latin and sounded roughly like “incarcerate”. Within a split second, ropes had come out of nowhere and wrapped around the woman. There was no explanation for it and Gibbs had no idea where they had come from. He took a step forward and then looked at Ducky.

 

“Ah…something else then?” Ducky asked rather weakly, giving Gibbs a nervous look.

 

The man did something else and all of a sudden a candle on Ducky’s desk lit itself and began floating in midair.

 

“Better…much better,” Ducky said as Gibbs approached, walking around the candle cautiously and then placing his hand under it. There was no substance keeping it afloat, nothing Gibbs could figure out.

 

He whirled around as someone began applauding and saw that Tony and the new visitor had come in and the new guy was clapping. “Brilliant! Great work there. How is that done? Where are you from?”

 

The guy took all Gibbs questions as well as control he wasn’t quite ready to give. He opened his mouth, trying to regain command of the situation when Ducky gasped and spoke, interrupting his train of thought.

 

“Why I…Good lord! Extraordinary! Are you by any chance related to Jack Harkness? I knew a man, quite a great many years ago, who looked just like you, right down to the dimples and the suspenders and the coat…but…”

 

“Ducky, it’s me,” the man said, nodding and smirking.

 

“It is? But…how? That was very many years ago…” He turned to look at the two strangely dressed and named people. “Do you know…?” Ducky sighed, moving closer to Jethro. “My dear man, we have a great deal to talk about. Can you commandeer a conference room?”

 

Gibbs sighed, nodding. “Come on then. All of you. But get the ropes off her first and put that candle down!” He gave Tony a look and DiNozzo shuffled right out of the way. Knowing he was heading a hell of a parade, Gibbs led them to the squad room, where he pointed at McGee and Ziva, who were clustered with Abby and Palmer. It figured that Palmer and Abby had gone right to the squad room to gossip. Abby hesitated for only a moment and then followed, giving Gibbs a bright grin.

 

“Abbs,” he drawled, not at all surprised to see she’d been gossiping with the others.

 

“Gibbs,” she chirped, giving him a bright smile.

 

When they filed into the conference room, he took the head of the table, watching as the various groupings settled themselves. McGee and Ziva sat close to him, DiNozzo and Abby across from them. Palmer settled next to Ziva while one of the newcomers—Jack—sat next to Tony. Ducky and the other two sat across from him, next to Palmer.

 

Gibbs turned his attention to his own agents first. “Ziva, McGee, you ever heard of Torchwood Institute?” He closed the blinds and regarded his agents. He figured that if anyone had, Ziva would.

 

McGee and Ziva shook their heads, the Mossad agent suddenly looking as wary as Gibbs felt. He gave her a minute nod, warning her without words to stay aware.

 

Gibbs turned to Jack. “You do anything like they can?”

 

“No,” Jack said with a small smile. “I have skills but not those.” He folded his arms and leaned against the back of his chair.

 

“What do you mean, Gibbs?” McGee asked, confused.

 

“They can do things. They…I don’t know how to explain it. They made a candle float.”

 

“They can help us identify the silvery substance. We believe it is a pensieve,” Ducky said quietly.

 

“A what?” Gibbs asked.

 

“Pensieve. It is complicated, Gibbs. Be open minded, my dear boy.”

 

“And what’re you here to do?” Gibbs asked Jack.

 

“I think he knows what actually killed our Commander, Gibbs,” Tony said, speaking up. “I think he can figure out the substance and ID the hairs.”

 

“And what killed out Commander, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked. “Aliens?”

 

Tony gasped and Gibbs couldn’t censor his reaction, His eyes widened before he controlled himself just as Tony spoke. “Maybe, Gibbs. After you just saw what you did, please don’t doubt or question my theories. I’ve known Jack and Torchwood for a lot of years. He’s saved me from things you couldn’t even imagine.”

 

“Can someone tell us what is going on here?” Abby said, speaking up finally. Only now Gibbs realized she’d been uncharacteristically quiet.

 

“And hello to you,” Jack said, leaning over Tony to eye Abby speculatively, with clearly undisguised interest that forced a growl from deep in Gibbs’ throat.

 

Abby giggled nervously, and Gibbs closed his eyes, summoning up patience from somewhere deep inside. This was one of the strangest days of his life, but he knew he had to get back on track.

 

“Okay, everyone. Pay attention! Here is the rundown of the situation. We need to figure this out and now. The commander deserves answers and if my team thinks you people can help, we’ll give it a shot.

 

“Aye Aye, Boss,” Jack said, and Gibbs could swear the guy winked at him.