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Post by LJ on Oct 4, 2005 20:13:46 GMT -5
I gave it an 8.
The plot was excellent and the perp was creeeepy! A nice twist, of the sort that catches you off-guard but doesn't seem totally ridiculous. And they drew out the red herring just long enough.
Gibbs was beautiful. Lovely background on him, great insight into why he is the way he is. And wonderful interaction with Boone.
All two seconds we got of Ducky were wonderful! Showed his good friendship with Gibbs, and his concern for the whole team. I'm not sure quite why he was agitated before he found out about Gibbs going to interview Boone, but his reactions were nice. And only Ducky could have given it to Gibbs that straight when confronted about his wife!
I wasn't terribly fond of Paula in this one, although she was bearable. Tony seemed a little off, too, but maybe that's just because she "got to him." Love him in "Gibbs mode".
Some of the scenes seemed a bit graphic for 8-o'clock TV, but not overly disturbing.
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Post by LJ on Nov 3, 2005 12:52:54 GMT -5
I liked it a lot, actually. It reminded me of "See No Evil" -- in reverse, kind of. Maybe that's what they were going for; I'm not sure. But I liked it.
I enjoyed Zach. That kid was a pretty good little actor. And I absolutely loved how he was like Gibbs, but they didn't overemphasize it (ala "Doppelganger"). I'm sorry; I'm a sucker for Gibbs-with-kid TV.
Jen -- grr. Don't like her; wish she'd leave and stop distracting Gibbs. "Hubba, hubba"? Come on! Sounds more like Tony than Gibbs.
Chip -- I don't know. He's creepy and annoying, yes, but the characters see that and don't like him either. He's a neutral for me.
9.5 for me.
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Post by LJ on May 11, 2005 6:21:49 GMT -5
I'd give it a ten, but the season finale is still pending. So a nine it is.
I love the way the humor interacted so well with the seriousness in this one. I mean, it usually does, of course - but this time both were more intense. Plus, kudos to the writers for not making it inappropriately funny when there was such a serious event occurring.
OOH, and the characters! Everyone was on top form last night.
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Post by LJ on Aug 26, 2005 16:26:06 GMT -5
Well, I spend most of my free time in the attic writing fic...does that count?
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Post by LJ on Jul 6, 2005 14:55:02 GMT -5
I'm on the shy side, like McGee, but I think I'm growing out of a bit -- also like McGee. I can definitely see myself -- and McGee -- becoming more confident as time goes by.
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Post by LJ on Jan 24, 2005 20:36:55 GMT -5
Your concept is incredible, your emotions are great, your dialogue is mostly good, and your presentation needs a little polishing.
Interesting idea! Even if it wasn't entirely yours (i.e. a challenge), I doubt the challenge mentioned a) the donor angle, or b) the relationship between Gibbs and Abby's parents.
The only problems were formatting and a maybe a little grammar, but very minor. Overall, good work!
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Post by LJ on Jan 1, 2006 14:04:07 GMT -5
Thanks, everyone, for your very kind comments! We're so glad you enjoyed.
There is one chapter left in "Blood and Water", which should be up shortly. Thanks for reading!
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Post by LJ on Aug 16, 2005 17:10:42 GMT -5
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Post by LJ on May 31, 2005 13:00:05 GMT -5
Well, folks, this is it! Thanks for reading and reviewing; I do hope you've enjoyed this little journey as much as we have.
P.S. Keep an eye out for Margaret's and my next story, in which Uncle Jack returns (with a considerably larger part) and brings some friends. ;D The first chapter ought to be up in the next month or two.
This chapter should be up at FF.net within the day (I hope); for some reason the login feature is not working right now.
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Post by LJ on May 31, 2005 12:44:20 GMT -5
Ch. 18 – Journey Ended, Journey Begun or How's School?
“Grace! What’s going on, girl?” Abby greeted cheerfully.
“Hey, Abby,” Grace responded. “Not much.”<br> “How’s school?”<br> “Not too bad. You know how it is.”<br> “Yeah,” Abby nodded, frowning sympathetically. “So, what brings you in this morning?”<br> “Teacher work day or something,” Grace explained with a dismissive hand-wave. “Mrs. Klein’s granddaughter had a “Grandparents’ Day” at her school, so Aunt Kate said I could hang out here if I promised to stay out of the way.”<br> “Cool! Wanna come with me to take these results to Ducky?”<br> “Sure. It’s been a while,” Grace mused.
“Too long, Grace-ster! Come on, let’s go.”<br>
“Grace, my dear! How are you?” Ducky welcomed her warmly. Impulsively, Grace reached out and hugged him. After his initial surprise, his warm arms encircled her and she inhaled his dog-laced cologne scent. She had rarely felt so safe.
“Pretty good, thanks,” she replied, breaking away and grinning.
“How is school going for you?”<br> “Oh, you know. Little up, little down.”<br> “Mmm. And how are you getting on with Kate?” His eyes twinkled kindly and Grace remembered their last session fondly. If it weren’t for school, she would have continued the appointments gladly – if only to spend more time with Ducky.
“Better. We still have our moments, but things are mostly good.” Thanks to you, Grace added silently.
“I’m delighted to hear it,” Ducky smiled before turning to Abby. “Ah, are those the results?”<br> “Yep. I think you’ll like what you see,” Abby replied cheerfully.
“Indeed, just as I suspected. Thank you, Abby.”<br> “Hey, Ducky!” a new voice joined the trio. “Gibbs wants your conclusions ASAP – oh, hey, Grace.”<br> “Hi, Tony,” Grace waved a little shyly. Kate’s coworker or not, he was pretty hot.
“How are you? How’s school going?” he asked conversantly as he strode toward Ducky.
“Pretty good,” she answered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as yet another person asked her about school.
“Great,” he replied, sincerely if a bit distractedly. “So, Ducky, Gibbs is wondering what your thoughts are…”
“Tell him I’ll be right along, won’t you? I just have to finish up a few things.”<br> “Will do. Hey, Grace,” he directed his attention at the teen, “you wanna come with? Gibbs has been asking about you.”<br> “Asking about me? Why?” Grace asked warily, not a little disturbed by the thought of stern, crabby Gibbs asking about her. Their last encounter had not exactly been in the best of circumstances. Nevertheless, she found herself moving toward the door with Tony, waving goodbye to Abby and Ducky as they stepped onto the elevator.
“Well, you’ll just have to wait and see,” Tony muttered ominously, wiggling his eyebrows in what was apparently supposed to be a mysterious manner.
Grace smiled despite herself, realizing what Aunt Kate meant by Tony’s juvenile behavior. He really was a goofball.
“Boss, Ducky says he’ll be right up to talk about the case,” Tony called as they approached his desk.
“Hello, Grace,” Gibbs intoned without even looking up. “DiNozzo, don’t you have somewhere to be?”<br> “Yeah, boss,” Tony agreed immediately, spinning on his heels and heading back to the elevator.
“So, Miss Todd,” Gibbs began, typing something quickly before turning to face her. “School’s going well.”<br> “Um, yes,” she replied, slightly confused by the use of statement rather than question.
“How’s it going with your mother?” he asked casually. Grace raised her eyebrow at that; he was the first one to refer to Kate as her mother. Again she was surprised by how little it bothered her.
“Oh, pretty good,” she answered offhandedly. He squinted at her and she shrank under his gaze. “We have our ups and downs,” she admitted, “but it’s feeling more…normal.” She startled herself with that one; she hadn’t told anyone else how comfortable she was growing with Kate.
“That’s great,” Gibbs nodded. It would’ve sounded insincere from anyone else but Gibbs managed to make it genuine. Of course, the small-but-dazzling smile he treated her to didn’t hurt either. “So,” he scowled, turning back to his computer, “the boys bothering you yet?”<br> Grace cocked her head confusedly at the odd question. “No…?”<br> Gibbs nodded, a glare firmly on his face. “Good. You’re too young to date. When they do come knocking, though – and they will – have ’em come see me.”<br> His tone made it unclear whether or not he was joking but Grace smiled anyway, stifling a snort of laughter at Gibbs’ obvious paternalism. How could she ever have been afraid of this man?
“DiNozzo!” he barked suddenly as Tony reentered the room. “What are you doing back so soon?” Grace rapidly remembered the basis for her fear.
“The…the guy broke, boss,” Tony explained nervously. “He confessed.”<br> “I’ll be right down,” Gibbs groused, typing a quick command into his computer before rising. “Take care of yourself, Grace.”<br>
“Grace!” Kate called, scrambling for her purse. “Grace, let’s go!”<br> “Coming!” the girl replied, dragging a medium-sized suitcase from her room. Kate grabbed one side and together they maneuvered it down the stairs and into Kate’s car. Kate started the car and sped out of the parking lot, narrowly missing a lamppost.
“Are you trying to kill us?” Grace asked sarcastically, clutching her door handle.
“I don’t want you to miss your flight, okay?” Kate replied tightly, checking her mirrors and changing lanes with a jerk.
“Well, I really think Uncle Jack would rather not meet a large pine box at the baggage carousel,” Grace fired back.
“Oh, be quiet,” Kate rolled her eyes.
“Silent as the grave,” Grace quipped. Kate just shook her head.
When they arrived at the airport, Kate heaved Grace’s suitcase from the trunk and all but ran into the terminal. Grace followed at a slower pace, shaking her head at Kate’s nervousness. She arrived just in time to see Kate grab the boarding pass from the counter, thanking the agent cursorily, and dash toward Grace with a frantic look on her face.
“Come on, Grace, your flight boards in fifteen minutes!”<br> “Plenty of time,” Grace reassured her, digging for her ID and gently taking her boarding pass from Kate.
“The ticket agent said I could take you to the gate, since you’re a minor,” Kate explained as they approached security.
“Great,” Grace replied neutrally.
They made it through security easily enough. Kate began walking briskly for the gate, Grace trailing behind with a raised eyebrow. Her mother looked like she was at the track instead of at the airport. If she weren’t otherwise occupied, she would have been mortified.
“Oh, Grace, there’s your gate,” Kate called, pointing it out. “Phew, we made it!”<br> “Told you,” Grace said, smoothly settling into a free seat.
“You’re sure you’ve got everything you need?”<br> “Yes,” Grace sighed. “Besides, it’d be a little too late if I didn’t.”<br> “And you’re okay flying by yourself?”<br> “I’m fine.”<br> “Got enough snacks? They probably won’t have a meal on this flight.”<br> “Yes! Enough already,” Grace cried exasperatedly. “Everything’s set.”<br> Kate opened her mouth to say something more but before she could, (to Grace’s great relief) the boarding call began. Grace stood, eager to escape Kate’s annoyingly maternal questions.
“Grace,” Kate called, her voice breaking slightly. “Have a good time, all right? Call me if you need anything.”<br> “Thanks, I will.”<br> Kate reached out her arms and Grace obliged with a hug. “I love you, Grace.”<br> “I love you, too,” Grace replied, “Mom.”
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Post by LJ on May 27, 2005 7:26:45 GMT -5
Ch. 17 - Name Game
“Why don’t we all tell everyone something about ourselves?” asked the – there was no other word for it – fluffy woman at the front of the room. She wore the nervous smile of a person in a new situation, compensating for anxiety with overfriendliness. Grace disliked her instantly; she smacked of kittens, dollhouses, and pink.
“Would you like to go first, Miss…” the teacher trailed, scrambling for her roll sheet while nodding at Grace.
Shoot, Grace thought. Here we go. She had expected to have to tell someone her name sometime, of course, but that didn’t make the actual event any easier. A new dilemma had cropped up when she separated herself socially from Kate. When Kate introduced her to others, it was enough to simply say she was Kate’s daughter. Separate, however, she was now required to provide a surname. And she didn’t know what to say.
She had become used to calling Kate “Aunt Kate” and she still thought of Mary O’Neill as “Mom,” although…but that was a thought for another time. The point was, like the issue with what she should call Kate, she didn’t know whether to introduce herself as Grace O’Neill or Grace Todd. She was stuck between two names, two worlds, wanted by both but belonging to neither.
“…Todd?” the teacher finished, finally scrounging up her attendance card.
So. Decided for her by the forms, the legality of her relationship to Kate. Grace was mildly surprised to find she didn’t really mind. After fourteen years of being an O’Neill, she had thought her transition to a Todd, if she made it at all, would be more difficult. It was strange, of course, but she supposed she had been working herself up to it – consciously or not.
“Miss Todd?” the teacher prompted, glancing again at the roll card she was clutching like a lifeline. “Grace?”<br> “Oh, sorry,” Grace replied, cringing. Great first impression, she thought. “Um…what do you want me to say?”<br> “Are you trying to be smart, Miss Todd?” The teacher, discouraged by the class’ lack of enthusiasm and frustrated by Grace’s previous spacey-ness, was quickly becoming agitated.
“No, ma’am,” Grace answered icily, adding the title with obvious sarcasm. She didn’t exactly mean to be rude but her mood was not being improved by this incompetent woman. “Okay, my name is Grace…Todd. I just moved here from Maryland. I…really don’t know what else to say.” The class tittered, amused by the exchange.
“Thank you, Miss Todd,” the teacher said quickly, apparently eager to shut Grace up. “Next, Mr.…Anderson?”<br> The boy stood and introduced himself as Ricky but Grace was no longer paying attention. Her thoughts returned to her name dilemma, now solved, and extended to pondering her unusual situation. She was truly unique; she knew people who were adopted and she knew people who still lived with their natural parents, but she suspected there were very few who did both.
Her discomfort with the situation was growing steadily less the longer she lived with Aunt Kate. Her calls to Uncle Jack, while still reasonably frequent, were growing fewer and farther between. Her arguments with Aunt Kate, at least the ones regarding her ‘abandonment’, had dramatically decreased and she was, almost unconsciously, beginning to think of Kate like her mother.
That was an interesting thought, she reflected. If anyone had asked her three months ago who her mother was, she would have replied, “Mary O’Neill” with no hesitation. Three weeks ago and she would have hemmed and hawed until the inquirer gave up. Now…now she would probably hesitate before thoughtfully replying, “Kate Todd” – thoughtful because she herself had only recently realized the fact.
Grace still distinguished between her mother and her mom. Mary O’Neill had been her mom; Kate was becoming her mother. It wasn’t so much a matter of rank as it was familiarity. After all, no matter how great or nice Aunt Kate was, Grace had still only lived with her for three months to Mary O’Neill’s 14 years. It would simply take a little more time. Well, maybe not simply; there was nothing simple about the situation.
Grace was still dealing with her parents’ death, for all her outer appearance of peace. She often woke up crying from a recurring nightmare in which she relived the pronouncement from her school principal about the car crash. She was far from ‘over it,’ whatever that meant, and doubted she ever would be. Her conversations with Uncle Jack helped considerably, though. They would remember the good times and occasionally he would talk her through her grief. He was certainly no stranger to it.
“Miss Todd, are you still with us?” the teacher asked in a sing-song that seemed designed to embarrass Grace. The class chuckled again.
“Yes, ma’am,” Grace sighed, just barely hanging on to the respectful title.
“Well, then, if you would please begin reading from page 4 in the book,” the teacher directed as the class opened their books obediently, though with excessive rustling and shifting.
Grace sighed again and began reading. She would have to deal with this for the next eighteen weeks; she might as well get used to it. Shelving her thoughts on life, the universe, and everything – or at least her current experience – she tried to concentrate on the words she was speaking. It wasn’t easy, but then nothing about the last three months had been.
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Post by LJ on May 24, 2005 16:34:33 GMT -5
Teenagers!
“Oh, no,” Kate declared, “you are not wearing that to school.”<br> “Aunt Kate,” Grace rolled her eyes, “it is not that bad.”<br> “Grace, it’s the first day of high school. Do you really this to be people’s first impression of you?”<br> “So what if it is? What’s wrong with it?” Grace protested.
“For starters, it’s too high in the bottom, too low in the front, too tight around the midriff, and too loose at the shoulders,” Kate recited.
“Oh, please. You sound like –” Grace hesitated.
“Your mother?” Kate interjected smugly.
“Frankly, yeah,” Grace shot back.
“Well, guess what, Grace – I am your mother.” Kate was only a few notches short of yelling by now.
“Barely,” Grace replied nastily, matching Kate’s volume.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kate demanded, masking her hurt behind anger.
“You know what I mean,” Grace answered cryptically.
“No, I don’t,” Kate pressed, frustrated. “Why don’t you tell me?”<br> “Just that I didn’t even know you until three months ago,” Grace retorted.
“We’ve been over this before,” Kate said, the warning clear in her suddenly lowered voice.
Grace took the hint and changed tack. “Come on, Aunt Kate, everybody’s wearing this.”<br> Kate snorted, putting aside her shock and pain to concentrate on the argument at hand. “First, I highly doubt that. Second, and I know this is cliché,” Kate closed her eyes, not believing she was about to say this, “but if everyone were jumping off a bridge, would you?”<br> “I can’t believe you just said that,” Grace responded, trademark eyebrow on the rise.
“Yeah, neither can I,” Kate cringed before sighing, “Please, Grace, just humor me. We can work something out later, but right now we’re going to be late.”<br> Grace considered her carefully before rolling her eyes again and huffing, “Fine, I’ll change. But just this once. And only because I don’t want to be late.”<br> “I don’t get it, Ducky,” Kate confessed helplessly. “Last week, we got along great. I thought we were finally getting it together. This morning, I’m her worst enemy.”<br> “Believe it or not, Caitlin,” Ducky smiled sympathetically, “this is actually a very positive sign. Grace’s behavior this morning, as you described it, is definitely normal teenage conduct. And, in fact, she is beginning to treat you as a mother, whether or not she realizes it.”<br> “It sure doesn’t feel like it,” Kate sighed glumly.
“Trite as this may sound – welcome to parenthood.”<br> “There’s something else,” Kate began hesitantly. “Grace said something this morning…”
“Go on, Caitlin,” Ducky encouraged her.
She sighed. “She said I was ‘barely’ her mother. I know that’s normal, but I really thought we’d moved past that.”<br> Ducky frowned slightly. “It hasn’t been an issue lately?”<br> “No, it hasn’t come up for several weeks. Actually, it was never that big a problem to begin with; I think because I’m her biological mother, she can’t use the ‘You’re not my real mom’ line. There were a couple of times she seemed like she wanted to, though.” Kate, as always when she was unsure of herself, babbled.
“Perhaps…” Ducky mused. Kate waited for him to continue but the pause grew longer and more awkward.
“Um, perhaps what, Ducky?”<br> “Oh, I was just considering…” Ducky shook himself from his pondering and addressed Kate more clearly. “Perhaps Grace didn’t really mean it. It sounds almost as if she’s simply recycling an old argument that has proven effective in the past. Did she press the point?”<br> “No,” Kate acknowledged, recalling the morning’s events. “I warned her that we’d been over it before and she backed off right away.”<br> “Yes,” Ducky nodded. “That does seem to correspond with my theory. I can’t be sure, of course, but I wouldn’t worry overmuch, Caitlin. Grace is, after all, fourteen years old. As I said before, this is typical teenage behavior.”<br> “Thanks, Ducky,” Kate smiled appreciatively.
“You’re quite welcome. My door is always open.”<br> Kate typed her report, glad Tony was out on an interview and not peppering her with inane questions and comments. She was definitely not in the mood for his antics. It was amazing, though, how quiet the office became without him around. The only sound was the clicking of keys from her and Gibbs’ computers, punctuated by the occasional slurp of coffee from Gibbs’ desk. McGee was working with Abby on some technical problem but even his presence wouldn’t have made much difference.
“How’s Grace doing?” Gibbs asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Kate started at the unexpected noise and the even more unexpected question. Gibbs had hardly said a word about Grace before, and then it was usually to remind Kate that she ought to have no effect on her work. Why was he suddenly interested?
“Um, pretty good,” Kate answered generally, still confused.
“She started school today.”<br> How does he do that? Kate wondered. “Yeah,” she replied, even though it had not been a question.
“High school. How’s she taking it?”<br> Again, Kate wondered at his abrupt curiosity. His determined stare at his computer didn’t give any hint as to his intentions, so she answered his question at face value. “She was a little nervous, but I think she’ll settle in pretty quick.”<br> “She will. She’s a trouper.”<br> Kate marveled at his ability to judge people. He had only met Grace for five minutes two months ago and again at the benefit but had apparently garnered a good bit of her personality from the two brief encounters. Of course, he did that every day with suspects but it was somewhat more impressive when Kate knew the person and knew he was entirely correct.
As suddenly and mysteriously as the conversation had started, it ended. Gibbs simply stopped talking and Kate was too befuddled (and, admittedly, intimidated) to continue it herself. It was just one more mystery about Gibbs that Kate figured she would never know the answer to.
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Post by LJ on May 20, 2005 17:02:27 GMT -5
Ch. 15 - The Million-Dollar Question
“You ready for next week?” Kate asked, glancing at her passenger out of the corner of her eye as they drove home from the store.
“Yeah,” Grace answered, confidently but unable to disguise the faint note of worry in her voice.
“High school’s tough,” Kate acknowledged, “but you’ll do great. It won’t take you long to settle in.” And she meant it. Kate’s observations of Grace over the past ten weeks had found the girl remarkably adaptable.
“What were you like in high school?” Grace asked, cleverly steering the conversation away from herself while at the same time sincerely curious.
“Pretty average, actually,” Kate said. Suddenly she struck on what seemed an inspired idea. “Hey, why don’t we look through some of my old yearbooks? You can laugh at my hair and everything.”<br> Grace chuckled at that but agreed. Kate inwardly congratulated herself for thinking of such a great bonding experience. When they got home, Kate had Grace put the groceries away as she pulled out a box from where it had been buried in her closet.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered, rifling through the box and tossing various memorabilia aside. She paused occasionally, smiling vaguely at the memories certain objects recalled.
“Find ’em?” a voice asked from behind her.
Kate jumped, upsetting the box and spilling its contents all over the floor of the closet – including four large books.
“I guess so,” Grace commented wryly.
“You startled me,” Kate explained, slightly embarrassed at her reaction.
“I can see that.” Grace maintained her sarcastically-tinged tone, eyebrow raised in ironic superiority.
“Oh, be quiet,” Kate groused, collecting the yearbooks and heading for the living room with Grace in tow.
They settled onto the couch, the first of the four books opened across Kate’s lap. She quickly flipped past the first few title pages, stopping when she got to something interesting.
“That’s my friend Ruthie,” Kate laughed, pointing to a picture of a dark-complexioned girl making faces at the camera. “She was probably the most photographed kid at school. Always a cut-up, too.” Kate was about to turn the page when Grace stopped her.
“Hey, is that…” She squinted closer at the brunette almost hiding behind Ruthie.
Kate groaned good-naturedly. “Yeah. I never did like having my picture taken.”<br> They paged through the activity/student life pages, laughing at some of the photos as Kate indicated the people she knew. They giggled through the class pictures, Grace laughing hysterically at the hairstyles and Kate cringing at what had been the height of fashion. Kate’s picture held particular fascination for Grace.
“Wow, you look…younger,” she commented.
“Um, Grace, I hate to break it to you but I was younger,” Kate replied with a smile and an attempt at imitating Grace’s eyebrow action.
“Don’t even try, Aunt Kate.” Grace shook her head at Kate’s effort, which had only resulted in her eyes bugging comically. “It’s an O’Neill thing. And I know you were younger, thank you. I meant, you look…different. I don’t know. Something about your eyes.”<br> Kate looked into her own face – her open, smiling, honest face – and knew what Grace meant. There was an innocence there, a trust not yet broken. Wordlessly, Kate reached for the book dated two years later. Opening to the correct page, she showed Grace a very different picture. This Kate was hardened, scowling behind the smile she gave the camera. There was anger in her eyes, and fear. Clearly something had happened between her freshman and junior years and there were no prizes for guessing what.
“Aunt Kate,” Grace spoke softly, “could I see a picture…” She trailed off, uncertain of how her request might be received.
Kate realized what she was asking, though, and nodded. “You deserve that much,” she muttered bitterly.
Flipping a few pages in yet another book (her sophomore year, the year of the Incident), she located what Grace was looking for.
Grace leaned closer. She gazed into the smiling, dimpled face of a young blond boy. Brown eyes twinkled at her from under his curls, betraying no indication of the evil that lay beneath his friendly veneer. He looked every bit the proverbial boy-next-door, charming and attractive. She shuddered to think what he had done to Kate. She felt slightly nauseated as she realized that this cute, charismatic scum was the reason she existed.
“He’s,” Grace started, clearing the lump in her throat. “He’s my…father.”<br> It wasn’t really a question and it wasn’t really a statement. She seemed to be trying to come to terms with the fact in her own mind, as if maybe saying it out loud would make it easier to accept.
“No,” Kate spat vehemently. “He’s not. All he did was contribute a little DNA, and sperm doesn’t entitle him to much. Ed O’Neill was your father, Grace.”<br> Grace seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment before asking the question that had so far, though unuttered, defined their relationship.
“But who’s my mother?”
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Post by LJ on May 16, 2005 17:28:36 GMT -5
Note: Obviously, it's not Friday. Margaret and I decided to up our posting schedule for a number of reasons, not least being that we've actually finished the thing and don't need a safety buffer. Anyway, after today chapters will be posted on Fridays and Tuesdays. Through an odd twist of fate, I believe the final chapter will be up on the same day as the season finale! Don't worry, I know where your priorities lie... ETA: Well, I was wrong. Why did I think the season finale was two weeks away? Go figure. Anyhoo, the story will actually be finished Tuesday the 31st. I'm pretty sure. And now, on with the story. Ch. 14 - In Memoriam“Grace, it’s time to go!” Kate called, tapping her foot absently. “Coming!” the girl replied, her voice slightly muffled by the walls. She dashed out of her room, grasping a spiral notebook in one hand. “What’s that?” Kate asked as they made their way to the car. “Ducky said I should keep a journal,” Grace explained. “I’m supposed to write down my feelings and what I think caused them.” Kate didn’t miss the slight sarcasm in Grace’s voice; she obviously didn’t hold much truck with touchy-feely stuff but was at least willing to give Ducky a shot. Their semiweekly-barring-an-important-case meetings with Ducky had become somewhat central to both their lives, giving them a common frame of reference of sorts. Kate had noticed a significant decrease in the number of arguments they had at home; Grace simply stored the information away and they hashed it out in front of their third party. Ducky took it all in stride, helping them to see where they could improve. Kate didn’t always feel better after a session, but over the weeks she felt her general mood improving. “So,” Ducky started, as per usual, “anything particularly pressing on our minds today?”<br> Kate, who usually opened by expressing a newly discovered (or, rather, uncovered) emotion concerning Dominic and the Incident, was silent. She had nothing new to say; she was still processing from last week. Ducky had managed to get her past her self-blame and she had begun channeling her anger toward Dominic. Grace, on the other hand, fidgeted slightly as she waited for someone else to speak. Ducky noticed and called on her. “Grace?” he prompted gently. She glanced nervously at Kate before beginning, as if to make sure she really was the only one with something to say. “I miss my parents,” she whispered, almost inaudibly. She was clearly struggling not to cry. “Oh, my dear,” Ducky breathed, eyes full of sympathy. Kate pulled Grace into a hug where the girl, after initially tensing slightly, broke down and sobbed into Kate’s shoulder. Kate stroked her, rocking slightly, maternal instinct overriding any possible awkwardness. This was her child and she was in pain. They remained in that position for several minutes, Grace releasing all the tears she hadn’t been able to shed for months. Kate felt a pang of guilt as she realized Grace must have been trying to be strong for her, Kate, as she dealt with her own repressed emotions. Now it was Grace’s turn. “Grace,” Ducky encouraged when she had finally cried herself dry, “what do you miss most about your parents?”<br> Grace drew a shuddering breath as she closed her eyes and remembered. Smiling shakily, eyes squeezing tears down the well-established tracks on her cheeks, she breathed, “The way my dad smiled when he teased me. My mom’s laugh. How safe I felt when they hugged me…” At this, Grace nearly broke down again, wiping her face furiously and swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. Kate blinked back tears of her own. She longed to gather Grace into her arms and rock her like a baby. While that had been appropriate two minutes ago, though, in light of Grace’s latest articulation she felt it would be cheating the girl to attempt to replace what she had lost. Ducky cleared his throat lightly when it appeared that Grace had collected herself. It wasn’t a polite, get-their-attention-so-I-can-talk-uninterrupted ahem, either; it was a genuine, emotional throat clear. Grace, wiping her eyes, looked up. Ducky saw a brief flash of raw grief in her eyes before she clammed up again. “Grace,” he said softly, “it’s all right to feel.” He couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased as emotion crept back into her eyes and she gave him a watery smile. Kate sighed as she pushed open her apartment door. It had been a tough day, beginning with the emotional session with Ducky and continuing through a strenuous case to end with the drive home in the worst traffic jam ever. Grace looked about how Kate felt: tired, worn, emotionally strained. Impulsively, Kate reached down and tousled Grace’s hair affectionately. Grace looked up and gave her what Kate had come to recognize as her trademark “Grace look”. It was sarcastic and poignant, inquisitive and enlightened. Kate smiled; that look meant Grace was all right even if she was grieving. “Aunt Kate,” Grace asked, sighing heavily, “can I please call Uncle Jack?”<br> “Of course,” Kate replied, slightly over-cheery in her desire to maintain normalcy. “Use the calling card.”<br> Grace grabbed the phone from the kitchen and shut herself in her room. Kate busied herself with nothing, resisting the urge to pick up the other phone and listen in. She walked past Grace’s door several times, leaning in slightly to overhear the goings-on inside. She heard sniffles a few times, strangled sobs at one point, and quiet weeping throughout. She stopped on her seventh pass, startled to hear laughter. She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the door against her better judgment, wondering what could be funny right now. “Remember the time Mom was sick, so Dad had to make Thanksgiving dinner?” Grace giggled. Kate was startled to hear a voice answer back before she realized Grace must have the phone on speaker. She recognized the distorted voice vaguely from her brief meeting with Uncle Jack two months ago. “Yeah, well,” Uncle Jack laughed with his niece, “don’t be too hard on him. All men have to learn that lesson the hard way.”<br> “Uncle Jack,” Grace admonished teasingly, “six hours at 300 degrees is not the same as three hours at 600 degrees.”<br> “It’s a reasonable assumption!” he defended himself, jokingly indignant. “Besides, you’re not exactly off the hook yourself. What about the dog food incident?”<br> “No fair! That was entirely different,” Grace protested. “Huh,” he snorted, and Kate could hear the raised eyebrow. “…How, exactly?”<br> “Well…” Grace faltered, before suddenly changing tack. “The look on Dad’s face was priceless. I thought he was going to spew!”<br> “Naw, it tasted like chicken!” Uncle Jack kidded. “Your mom took it awfully well, I thought.”<br> “Yeah, banning me from the kitchen for the rest of my natural life is ‘taking it awfully well’,” Grace commented wryly. “You know, I actually cooked something the other day? Wasn’t half bad either, or so Aunt Kate tells me.”<br> “Got yourself a new guinea pig, eh?”<br> “You could say that.”<br> “I just did. Hey, kiddo,” he got slightly more serious, surprising Kate who had figured him for a perpetual joker, “how’s it goin’?”<br> “Good,” she answered after a moment’s pause. “Mostly.”<br> “Mostly,” he repeated, dragging the word out in what was clearly a question. “There are rough spots,” Grace explained. “It’s getting better, though. Really, Uncle Jack, you don’t have to worry about me.”<br> “Gracie, if I didn’t worry about you I’d have nothin’ to do.”<br> “I know that’s not true.”<br> “You callin’ me a liar?”<br> “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”<br> The serious note left their conversation just as quickly as it had entered and they resumed their banter without a hitch. Kate smiled at the comfortable relationship between uncle and niece and went back into the kitchen to fix dinner, more certain than ever that maybe she – maybe they – would actually make it through this.
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Post by LJ on May 13, 2005 16:09:19 GMT -5
Ch. 13 - Dr. Ducky
“Welcome to my, er, office, ladies,” Ducky greeted smoothly, smiling slightly. “Please, take a seat.”<br> Kate guided Grace in front of her as they made their way to a vacant steel table. Hoisting themselves up, they tried not to look at the other, less lively, occupants of the room. Both were visibly nervous.
“Ducky,” Kate began before he could say anything, “I really appreciate your doing this for me. I mean, I don’t think I could talk about this with a total stranger.”<br> “It’s not a problem, Caitlin,” Ducky soothed. “I’m simply relieved you’re finally talking about it with someone.”<br> “Not like I had much of a choice,” Kate muttered.
“Gibbs has your best interests at heart,” Ducky assured her.
“I’m sure,” Kate replied sarcastically, “but ordering me to see a shrink doesn’t exactly say, ‘I care.’ At least he let me come see you instead.”<br> “Indeed.” Ducky paused. “Well, shall we begin?”<br> Kate drew a deep breath before exhaling a “Yeah”.
“Grace?” Ducky queried, waiting for the girl’s nod before continuing. “Very well. Caitlin, if you would please recount the events of that night.”<br> Kate closed her eyes and inhaled shakily. She wasn’t sure she could do this.
“At your own pace,” Ducky reassured her.
“I had just turned sixteen,” Kate began hesitantly, “when Dominic Fleming asked me out…”
As Kate told her story, both Grace and Ducky were listening raptly. Ducky didn’t know the details and wanted to help her; Grace needed desperately to learn about her father, however much a cad he had been.
“…and a month later, I found out I was pregnant,” Kate finished, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. It was unimaginably difficult to talk about – to relive – the Incident, but with the telling came the tiniest relief. It wasn’t huge or profound but some small part of her, deep inside, sighed and relaxed. One brick had worked itself loose from the walls she had built for herself.
“Do you,” Ducky interrupted her reverie softly, “blame yourself?”<br> Kate’s face contorted with the effort of not crying as she slowly nodded. “I should have known better,” she choked out. “I should have realized…”
“You couldn’t have,” Grace spoke up, surprising both Kate and Ducky. “You couldn’t have known.”<br> “But I did. I knew when he ordered the wine,” Kate stated, eyes squeezed shut with the pain of recalling her error in judgment. “I knew then that he was bad news. But I ignored the alarm bells. I thought it was rebellious. I thought it was cool.”<br> “It was a mistake,” Grace argued, becoming steadily more passionate, “one anyone could have made. That doesn’t make it your fault.”<br> Kate laughed – a hollow, humorless laugh that made Grace shiver. “I know all the arguments. You think I didn’t replay that night, over and over, in my head? I know exactly what I did and didn’t do. I know whose fault it was.”<br> The bitterness in her voice surprised even Ducky. He had known she had issues; he just didn’t realize how ingrained they actually were. It would be difficult to show her the truth in the lies she had been telling herself for fourteen years.
“Would you quit?” Grace burst out angrily. “It wasn’t your fault! Some drunk, power-tripping, libidinous,” she struggled for the word, “cretin decides he wants to rape you and you blame yourself? There is nothing you could have done.”<br> Grace’s words seemed to cut through the guilt and self-loathing that surrounded Kate like a cloud, making her blink several times in surprise. No one had ever put it so bluntly, or perhaps she had just never heard. She still blamed herself but she was beginning to realize, ever so slowly, that maybe there was more to it.
Ducky saw her eyes lighten slightly and smiled tightly. Progress, however small, was still progress.
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