Chapter Text
Yankee White: The Redux
Epilogue
Although this last chapter takes place roughly six months after Yankee White and we aren’t explicitly told how much time passes between that first episode and the second one, Hung Out To Dry, I took artistic license and decided to go with it as Probationary Todd’s first case.
~o0o~
Thirteen weeks later, Kate stared at her results in disappointment as she and Rachel were at a bar having a few drinks together. Rachel had been presenting a case study at an APA seminar for ongoing professional development and they’d decided to get together for drinks and dinner before her return home to New York. Kate was newly arrived back from FLETC in Georgia, and she was looking forward to spending time with Rach.
As she’d run out of her apartment block tonight, she noticed the official envelope with the Federal Law Enforcement Training College in the top corner, sitting there in the mailbox. It was her results from the CITP course, and she quickly stuffed it into her handbag, knowing she would prefer to open it with some moral support from Rachel. Not that she was worried. She was a highly trained secret service agent and this time, she was extremely motivated to absorb the coursework material. She was confident she’d aced it.
After imbibing a glass of rum and coke for courage, Kate opened the results. Despite her confidence, she was still relieved to have passed but disappointed that she only finished fourth in the class. How could she have only placed fourth, given this was her second time and she was already a federal agent? Kate had wanted to get a better mark than DiNozzo to prove she was better qualified so that when she was up to speed on investigative nuts and bolts, her seniority as a federal agent should count. Her Secret Service training in leadership skills and threat assessment, plus her superior hand to hand and her firearms proficiency were transferable skills that must make her more than a mere rookie on the team, surely.
Expressing her frustration to her sister, she realised after studying her academic transcript that her written scores were almost perfect; she’d lost marks in her assessments, and she felt a sense of frustration. Rachel carefully pointed out that areas where she lost marks had involved collaboration, teamwork, creative thinking, and flexibility.
When Kate had given her a blank look, her sister even more gently explained that she tended to assume she was always right and didn’t listen to alternative points of view. Rachel pointed out that wasn’t necessarily a good trait in an investigator. Particularly if she intended to follow up on the basic profiling training that she’d acquired at the Secret Service in crowd threat assessment and terrorism. Psychological profiling of perpetrators and investigation each required an open mindedness and willingness to communicate well and listen to other people’s perspectives.
Her big sister reminded her that even when she’d been in college, Kate always had difficulty collaborating with partners. She’d try to force them into doing everything her way and get angry when they disengaged from assignments because of it.
Kate knew this was all true, but it didn’t mean she liked hearing it. “Why are you picking on me, Rachel?” she whined, feeling sulky and a little out of sorts.
“I’m only reflecting back to you about what you told me when you asked my advice about leaving the Secret Service and becoming an investigator, Baby Sis. If you go into a new career with the attitude that you know it all and aren’t willing to listen and learn from more skilled and experienced investigators, you’ll put people’s backs up.”
She put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and hugged her. “And you’ll make a lot of rookie mistakes, like misreading the people or situations you’re investigating, which could be dangerous. I’m just worried about you, Kate.”
“I’ll be fine, Rachel,” she told her, returning the hug.
“If you go in with the attitude that you want to learn and are grateful for your fellow agents' help, then you’ll do fine. But seriously Kate, if you go in wanting to show up your direct superior because he’s a male, younger than you, and you think he was far too cocky, then you should reconsider your decision. Apply to the FBI instead. They’ll have more female agents working there, too – a lot more.”
Kate sighed. “No, you’re right. I need to remember that I have a lot to learn. If I’m not prepared to accept that to all intents and purposes I have to start right back at the beginning, then I shouldn’t be changing careers. Director Morrow made it perfectly plain when he talked to me that working on his top investigative team isn’t an opportunity that many people are given, even when they have years of experience. I need to get my head on straight.”
The next day Kate went into NCIS to sign her employment contracts and make sure her paperwork was in order. She was dealing with the assistant manager of HR, Ms Dolores Bromstead who seemed extremely officious and more than a little scary. She watched Dolores tear strips off a luckless agent because his timesheets had been submitted late and were inconsistent. She was soon to discover that Dolores was not a big fan of inconsistencies.
Glaring at her paperwork, Kate felt compelled to ask the assistant manager if there was a problem although she knew that she probably wouldn’t like her answer.
“An inconsistency. I do not like inconsistencies, contradictions, or irregularities,” she told her firmly. “Attention to detail is the cornerstone of effective law enforcement, Probationary Agent Todd.”
Kate nodded, not sure what else to say.
“Is your legal name Caitlin Margaret Todd?”
Feeling mystified by where this was going, she said, “Yes, it is.”
Dolores gave her patented, ‘there are inconsistencies,’ look and said, “Bear with me. Would you be so kind as to spell that?”
Kate was under no illusions that it hadn’t been a request, but even so, she complied promptly. One thing she had learnt the hard way, you never wanted to get off on the wrong foot with the HR department, even unintentionally.
“I see. Perhaps you can explain the discrepancy we found during our background checks where you have been using an alias.” Dolores gave her a look of intense scrutiny before asking, “Do you have something to hide, Probationary Agent Todd?”
Feeling perplexed and alarmed, Kate worried that someone had stolen her identity? That was the last thing she needed. “No, I haven’t used an alias, Ms Bromstead,” she denied emphatically.
Locking at her unwitting victim with her steely grey gaze, Dolores said, “So you deny that you sometimes go by the name Kate?”
Frowning, she said, “Well, no. But… that’s not an alias. It's just a shortened form of my Christian name.”
“Your given name,” Dolores corrected her swiftly.
“What?” Kate blurted out, confused and a tad anxious. Dolores was intimidating!
“It is not appropriate to use the term Christian name as a significant proportion of the general public and our stakeholders are not Christians - therefore, the term is divisive. More inclusive terms which are appropriate for you to use would be your given or first name,” Dolores explained a little brusquely.
“But I am a Christian,” she muttered, although loud enough for Dolores to hear her, unfortunately.
“Congratulations for that, I’m sure. However, now you are an employee of NCIS and will adhere to our code of conduct, which includes policies of inclusiveness towards minorities and people from diverse backgrounds,” Dolores told her firmly.
“Fine. As I was saying,” the before you interrupted, was tacit yet implied. “Kate is just a shortened form of my given name. Even my parents call me Kate unless I’m in trouble and then my Mom uses the double-barrelled form,” she smiled, trying to make a connection with this harridan.
Dolores stared at her sternly. “Do you find this funny? These types of discrepancies can be used against the agency in court when you are testifying or could very easily risk your Top Secret (TS) and Sensitive Compartmentalized Information (SCI) national security clearances. This in turn would bar you from being employed at NCIS,” she told her sternly.
“I already have TS and SCI clearances.”
“I’m sure you already know that high-level clearances are reviewed periodically, and any ‘adverse information reports received at any time can trigger a review.”
Feeling thoroughly puzzled, she said. “I’m confused. Don’t a lot of people use a shortened form of their given name?”
“They do,” the assistant manager conceded, bowing her head once.
“Then, I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is that you spell your full given name as Caitlin with a ‘C’, but your shortened given name is Kate with a ‘K’. If your given name was spelled Kaitlin with a ‘K’ this would be consistent with your claim that it is a shortened form, not an alias. However, when you were younger, you spelled your shortened form as Cate with a ‘C’ but when you were at college, you began to use the alias Kate with a ‘K’. Which makes me wonder if there were activities or affiliations that you took part in during the period between 1991 - 1994 that may not reflect well upon your character.”
Todd felt an overwhelming sense of relief along with a healthy degree of irritation. Talk about pettifogging bureaucracy!
“Oh! My spelling? No conspiracy - I had a boyfriend at college who could never seem to remember how to spell Cate, so I just went along with it,” she explained. “Most people spell Kate with a ‘K’, so it just seemed easier than explaining all the time.”
“I see, and are you still with him?”
Kate bit her tongue. Bromstead knew she wasn’t. It was in her file already.
“No, we only lasted about a year before we broke up.”
“So, you let someone who you were dating for 12 months dictate how you spelled your name? What else would you do for someone who you were dating; how far would you go to make life easier, Ms Todd?” Dolores inquired, her voice dripping with disapproval as she regarded her like some degenerate piece of rubbish.
The new NCIS probationary agent was about to argue that this was ridiculous; that this was dumb and beyond trivial when she thought back to the course about having to give testimony in a trial. How a lawyer for the defence would try to use anything they could find to make her look unreliable or untrustworthy.
“This is what you meant about it being used against me in court?” she asked.
“Precisely, Agent Todd. The devil is in the details, and it is attention to those details that hopefully will prevent some defence attorney from discrediting you on the stand.”
“So, I should probably go back to using Cate with a ‘C’ then, shouldn’t I?”
“Good choice or you could revert to using your full given name, Caitlin,” she suggested, a gleam of approval in her eyes.
“I think I’ll stick with Cate. Getting called Caitlin will make me think I’m in trouble,” she confessed sheepishly.
“Right, how about I get some new forms and you can redo your paperwork?” Dolores suggested smiling at her.
She nodded, pleased that this was one lesson that Dolores had saved her from having to learn the hard way when giving evidence in a case.
On her way out, she stopped in the bullpen to say hi to her new team, but they were off chasing up a lead. Ducky, stopping off to deliver a report to another team, spied her and he dragged her off to lunch with Dr Abby Sciuto who she’d already met and his autopsy assistant, Gerald Jackson, who she hadn’t. NCIS may not be a big federal agency, but Cate had done her homework. Abby and Ducky were regarded as top-notch, world-class forensic professionals and their welcoming a total rookie and eating with her and a lowly autopsy technician was rather heart-warming.
Even Dolores, who she gathered had something of a fearsome reputation for being a dragon, had been looking out for her. She was really going to take to heart that when it came to investigating, details were extremely important. It may even be the difference between justice being done and guilty persons going free. She was just relieved to have learnt that particular lesson down in HR rather than be made to look like a fool or having something to hide when she was in a courtroom. Resolving to bake homemade cookies and bring them in on her first official day as an NCIS special agent to thank them all, she was looking forward to starting her new career.
She felt like Tim Kerry would approve of her career change. She missed her friend.
~o0o~
On Sunday night, Cate thought carefully about what to wear for her first day as an NCIS special agent. She knew the office wasn’t quite as conservative as the Secret Service and she settled on a skirt and fitted jacket that she could wear for interviews plus, teamed it with a sleeveless cotton top that showed off her toned arms to perfection. Mostly as a Secret Service agent, she had stuck to suits in neutral colours, black, grey, taupe, charcoal, brown, navy blue and her dark green, almost black pants suit. In her new role, she was looking forward to wearing primary colours sometimes and occasionally adding some pastel-coloured shirts, or other accessory pieces.
Heading off to bed for an early night, she laughed at the thought of having nerves over her first day on the job. Cate ticked off all the reasons she had not to be nervous. She already knew her new teammates and worked with them before on a case six months ago. She’d been to the office already and could find her way around… mostly. She’d already earned herself an ally in the dragon lady down in HR…probably. And finally, she had homemade cookies in cellophane bags for Abby’s Lab, Autopsy, the bullpen and HR and she remembered to add the sugar…hadn’t she?
Everything would be fine, and she’d vowed that she was going to retire her fallback retort about jockstraps and frogs whenever she was feeling threatened. Rachel had agreed with Tim’s assessment that it didn’t do her any favours and getting rid of it was the smart thing to do. As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered what her first case would be… murder, robbery, or an assault?
Cate was rudely jolted awake by her fixed-line phone ringing insistently at 0215. Crawling out of bed, she felt a sense of dread at who would be ringing her in the middle of the night and hoped that her family were all okay. She was surprised to hear an unfamiliar male voice on the other end of the line.
“Okay Probie, we’re up. Deceased paratrooper on a night-time training jump. I’ll swing by and pick you up in twelve minutes since you don’t have your ID yet...”
Still half asleep, she interrupted, “I’m sorry. Who is this?” sounding grumpy and feeling aggrieved. She’d been in the middle of an awesome dream.
A self-deprecating chuckle. “Oops. It's Tony DiNozzo, your senior field agent. I’m ringing to let you know we’ve got a case.”
“But I’m not supposed to start until Monday,” she whined, thinking of the hot dream guy seducing her that DiNozzo had interrupted.
“Got news for you, Probie, it is 0218; it is Monday and the Major Case Response Team just got assigned a case. Get dressed, I’ll see you in 12 minutes.”
It was still the middle of the night as far as Kate was concerned, and this was NOT how she’d envisioned her first morning on the job. She’d only had about four and a half hours sleep, thank you very much. She needed at least eight hours to function optimally.
What if this was a joke? She’d heard about hazing rituals… had experienced them at the Secret Service. On the off chance, this was not a prank, Cate figured she’d better get dressed. She put on her clothes that had been laid out on her bedside chair, ready to wear after she’d had a shower and breakfast at a much more civilised hour.
She expected DiNozzo to ring her when he arrived but there was a soft knock on the door of her apartment. She appreciated that Tony hadn’t pounded on her door and woken up her neighbours, some of them were only too anxious to complain about her. Slipping on her nude-coloured court shoes with the cute kitten heels, she let him in.
“I thought you’d ring when you got here, save you climbing the stairs,” she said, trying not to sound snarky and failing, but she was tired and still not convinced that this wasn’t some juvenile hazing.
“Yeah, I would have, since we’re pressed for time, but it occurred to me that you haven’t received your gear, so I brought it up.”
He stopped to examine her critically. “Heels, Probie? I don’t think so. Here put these on,” he thrust a pair of military-style boots at her and handed over a ball cap and navy-blue coloured jacket, both emblazoned with the reflective letters NCIS across them. “Get changed into jeans or trousers, Agent Todd, and you’ll need something warm.”
Seeing she was about to argue he said, “Fine, don’t change but the boots, jacket and cap are mandatory de rigueur at crime scenes, Probie. Heels are out when you’re in the field - you’ll break your ankle or your neck. Agency regs, not to mention OHSA. I’ll wait for you down in the car,” he said crisply.
Oh shit, she’d gotten off to a bad start. Why hadn’t she thought about how dumb it was to dress for the office when she was going into the field in the middle of the night? Maybe because it was the middle of the night, and her brain wasn’t functioning yet!
Ripping off her suit she grabbed a pair of jeans, realising Tony had been dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Grabbing a pair of thick socks, she quickly stuffed her feet into the work boots, surprised that they fit her. Putting her office clothes and shoes in a Dolce and Gabbana carrier bag for later on and remembered to bring the cookies before grabbing her handbag, she picked up her newly issued NCIS cap and jacket. Then laden up, she raced downstairs and got into the passenger seat of the agency truck.
Tony didn’t say much, apart from viewing her attire and commenting briefly, “Good choice.”
The only conversation for the rest of the trip was DiNozzo instructing her that in future she needed to prepare a go-bag with a couple of changes of clothes and keep it with her at all times in case they caught a case and needed to take off at a moment’s notice. The SFA also explained that they sometimes were called out to ship or an aircraft carrier to investigate a major crime and needed to leave asap. He also recommended that she keep some spare clothes, a spare toothbrush, and maybe a sleeping bag at the office in her locker.
Plus, a little bit later, Tony mentioned keeping a supply of snacks such as power or health bars and dried fruit or nuts on hand, since when they were chasing a hot lead in a case where lives were at stake, they didn’t always have time to eat proper meals. Since it was good advice, Cate listened and told her supervisor she’d get on it asap.
For a while they didn’t speak, although Tony turned on some music to break up the silence. Somehow, she thought he’d be into Bon Jovi, Britney Spears…or Barry White she snickered, but this was weird.
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she asked, “What is this?”
Tony flicked a brief look at her, to see if she was serious before refocusing his eyes on the road again. “The Rat Pack,” he told her shortly.
“The Brat Pack?”
Tony snorted. “No, not a bunch of actors who appeared in the ensemble casts of the coming-of-age films of the eighties, John Hughes’ The Breakfast Club and Joel Schumacher’s St Elmos Fire. This is the Rat Pack: Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and Sammy Davis Jr. This song is The Birth of the Blues and that’s Sammy singing.”
“And the one before that?”
“That was ‘Ol Blue Eyes aka Frank Sinatra singing That Lonesome Road.”
“Hmm, they’re different...” she said, trailing off without finishing the sentence.
“Different from what you thought I’d listen to?” He guessed, with a smirk.
Cate pulled a face but didn’t deny it.
“What did you think I’d listen to, Barry Manilow or The Spice Girls?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. Not that, okay?”
Tony shrugged, “Honestly, if I want something a bit more contemporary than the Rat Pack or Ella Fitzgerald, I’ll listen to Neil Young, K.D. Lang, Harry Connick Junior or Alanis Morrisette.”
Cate seemed not to know what to say, and the silence was growing heavy and rather awkward, so he made conversation. “So, Agent Todd, what sort of music do you like listening to?”
“Oh, well… I was really into Smashing Pumpkins and Pearl Jam for ages but I’m getting into Savage Garden and the Black-Eyed Peas right now.”
Tony smiled. “I’m not into The Spice Girls, but there is a girl group I like a lot. They’re called Vika and Linda Bull and I must have listened to one of their songs, Hard Love hundreds of times when I first started at NCIS. Gibbs ripped the dial off the radio because he was so fed up listening to it,” Tony chatted, dropping breadcrumbs that would probably be ignored.
“Speaking of girl bands - Gibbs loves the Spice Girls,” he confided mischievously.
Cate was surprised and told him so. “I wouldn’t have picked that. I’d have thought he was more of a Beatles and Elvis Presley type of guy. Maybe Johnny Cash.”
Chuckling, he said, “Nope, got a thing for Gerri Halliwell, you know… Ginger Spice. So, if you’re with him in the car, The Spice Girls are a safe bet. And for your information, his Achilles heel is redheads,” he warned her. “And kids.”
A few minutes later Tony brought the NCIS evidence truck to a halt at the edge of the crime scene; some field out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of vehicles, porta lights and someone had taped off access to the scene with yellow crime scene tape. Okay, this was a lot of trouble to go through for a prank, she thought. Perhaps this was the real deal after all.
Having Tony ease her way through the Military Police, explaining it was her first day, which was why she didn’t have her creds yet, she followed in DiNozzo’s wake as he strode briskly towards a large dark coloured SUV. At first, her brain couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing, it was simply too bizarre. Easier by far to insist it was a faked scene with a mannikin wearing a parachute, except for the Marines, who were standing around outwardly stoic. Yet there was a wave of barely repressed anger that was hard to manufacture and there was a pair of hysterical teenagers standing nearby.
As she halted next to DiNozzo, she blurted out, “What the Hell is that?’
“Told you, paratrooper night-time training exercise. The best guestimate at this stage is his parachute failed to open. The sergeant was well off-target and barrelled through the sunroof of that SUV. Frighten the shit out of a couple of kids parked there making out by the looks of things.”
Noting that Ducky had arrived, she was too shocked by the scene which with all the portable lighting, had a surreal atmosphere, she wasn’t filtering her thoughts. “Oh, my Go…goodness. I thought it was a prank.”
Tony turned to look at her dispassionately. “Agent Todd, if I’d wanted to haze you, all I would have had to do was let you turn up at the scene wearing the clothes you were wearing when I picked you up, instead of giving you a chance to change into something more appropriate. I could have given you your gear to put on after we arrived, and you’d have been following regulations. Trust me, working a crime scene in boots and your fancy office wear would have made you the butt of a bunch of cheap laughs. Now let’s get to work.”
Cate swiftly realised that rather than wanting to haze her, he’d been looking out for her, like Dolores Bromstead had in her own tough love manner. Way to get off to a great start, Cate she admonished herself crossly.
“I’m sorry, Tony,” she apologised , forgetting about Gibbs’ rule about saying you’re sorry not being permissible. “Thank you for having my back and making sure I was appropriately dressed. I’d probably be freezing to death if you hadn’t told me to change. And you’re right, I’d have looked ridiculous.”
Tony flashed her an appraising look. “Sure, you’re gonna get hazed at some point now you're with NCIS, not because you have ovaries, but because you’re a newbie and it’s a rite of passage that happens to everyone – even Gibbs was hazed. Chris Pacci is the gentlest, sweetest guy you could ever hope to meet. He’s a real pussycat but he got Gibbs good. He sent him down to the various admin departments requesting forms that didn’t exist and had him memorise over fifty dispatcher codes that were total gibberish.”
He smiled a little as he imagined a rookie Gibbs learning a set of codes that Chris had made up with some of the other veteran agents over a beer or three. They still tried it on rookies, but it hadn't worked on him because he was used to radio codes as an unie.
“I’ve endured being hazed at three police departments and again at NCIS when I started here, so suck it up, buttercup, you’re in excellent company. Just remember this, I like a joke as much as the next person, probably more. But you’re my Probie, Agent Todd. I’m always gonna have your six, and most especially when we are out in the field because fieldwork is dangerous.”
He looked at her intently. “The question is. Will. You. Have. Mine.”
Finis