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ncisficathonTitle: How It All Started...
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jennukes
Written for:gemmi999
Archive: Yes, please ask first.
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: None/None
Genre: Gen
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,028 without the header
Disclaimer: I do not own anything and am not getting paid. Y'all know the drill and who these characters really belong to.
Prompt: Abby story--just any type of pre-show Abby (can continue to during show). How did she get the job at NCIS? Why are her and Gibbs so close?
Summary: The FBI was too stuffy; she'd never handle the starched suits there. NCIS, on the other hand, had just enough of a cowboy vibe, given its small size and need to fight the world for jurisdiction at times, to be a true fit for her personality.
Author's Notes:
A) I am sorry,gemmi999, that this story took so long. First I procrastinated and then realization dawned that I moved twice in the posting period and had a million things to do right before the posting period.
B) Thanks to the awesomest betas a girl can have,pixie_on_acid and squeelated. Sorry about the Word 2007 format! You guys rock at the speedy returns!
C) I actually have ideas for more, especially since the unbetaed version was about 35 words shy of the 1000 word mark. These additional ideas (Abby meeting Gibbs) will have to wait until after school settles now that I am here. But they will be written.
D) For reference, most New York State positions have a year probationary period… there are even jobs with TWO years. As almost all state or federal jobs I have seen have a probationary period of a year or more, I went with a year. I have seen them shorter, but a year is pretty standard. Because once probationary is over, then you can never get rid of a civil servant, or at least not without an act of God.
This was her third interview at NCIS. The first two had been with lab personnel; this one was more of a formality – meeting the Director. She’d dressed “appropriately,” hating the need for a suit and heels, but hiding it well. One day, she swore to herself, she’d find that seniority level and place where she could be who she truly was at work.
As she left the director’s office, a young woman caught her eye. She loved to people watch, but Abby suspected this woman would have caught her eye no matter if she didn’t. The man guarding her had handcuffed her and Abby grew angry as it took her only seconds to realize the woman was deaf. Her quick observation showed the woman staring at lips, trying in vain, to read what was going on around her, unable to read well enough or concentrate on any one person since they all moved around her, oblivious to her plight.
“She’s not stupid. She’s deaf.” Abby Sciuto stated all too aware of the usual stereotype that people who couldn't understand those talking to them were stupid. She walked over to the woman and the agent, she assumed, who was in charge of her. “Unhandcuff her.” Abby signed everything she told the agent and added her name into the mix for the woman.
The agent, apparently some idiot right out of training, gaped at her order, turning to look somewhere behind Abby for instruction.
“Do it.” Spoke an annoyed male voice from behind her. Abby didn’t bother turning around. She simply signed to the woman what was going on.
The young agent sighed when the woman’s hands didn’t lash out like before, causing him to handcuff her in the first place.
Abby stayed and translated for the young woman, but the longer she signed, the more something felt wrong. It was when she turned from the woman and talked directly to the agent that she realized the woman, although very good, was faking. Abby hadn’t translated the words from the agent and she knew the woman couldn't see them to lip read, yet she was answering something the agent asked.
Abby caught the agent’s eyes and whispered, “She’s not deaf.”
The woman proved Abby’s thoughts right when seconds later she made a play for an agent’s gun, but was knocked down and handcuffed once again.
“I’m sorry,” Abby told the agent. “I should never have interfered.”
Later, in a club with pounding music, Abby cursed the morning. She'd had a great interview with the Director, but she knew she'd ruined it with what she had done with the woman. She had had no business talking to the suspect. She was a lab rat, a scientist. She knew nothing about questioning and handling suspects. She'd broken her own rule – to never assume she knew more than a trained agent – and she was afraid that it had cost her the job she desperately wanted. NCIS was the perfect place for her. The FBI was too stuffy; she'd never handle the starched suits there. NCIS, on the other hand, had just enough of a cowboy vibe, given its small size and need to fight the world for jurisdiction at times, to be a true fit for her personality. She'd done so much research to find her niche and now she was dead positive she'd lost it all on a stupid move, being nice to a woman who she quickly realized wasn't what she appeared to be. At least the incident reinforced Abby's decision that she was best suited for the lab.
Meanwhile, hours earlier, a man she hadn't even met was barging in on the Director of NCIS and insisting that the young woman who had interviewed with him that morning be hired. It would be years and too much bourbon before Abby ever learned this information.
It was a shock, and Abby Scuito was rarely shocked, when she got the letter offering her a position in the NCIS forensics lab. There was also a happy dance around her living room, but no one was around to see it.
There were months of being the newbie, of conforming to work codes, of hiding herself. And then, six months and the probationary period half over, there was a slow transformation as she began to show her personality. It was a slow morphing, so slow that even Ducky, who worked most often with her couldn't, to this day, pinpoint when she'd let those she cared about see the real her, tattoos and all.
Abby started with exchanging heels for her combat boots. It was rare she wore skirts, because it was a pain in the lab, with all the freedom of movement she needed. Plus, she mostly hated wearing the suit skirts required. When this change was never commented on, her daring grew a bit and she started wearing a bit of her jewelry that was what she wore on her off time.
It was easy to slip into her music when she worked late at night on cases. No one else was there to care and she worked better with the pounding metal. It didn’t take her too long for the music to start bleeding into everyday work.
After nine months there, she bit her lip and let the world see her spider web tattoo. The only comment she received was, "That tat is sweet!" from one of the guards.
A full year into the job, the probationary period officially over, she smiled at herself in her full-length mirror and headed into work in her own clothes. Baggy, low waisted cargos, combat boots, a tight fitting metal graphic tank top over a black tank top, jet black hair in pig-tails tied with red ribbons and all her favorite jewelry. Walking into her lab, and it was definitely hers now, with her graphic photos of wounds all over the walls, Abby felt like she had finally come home. And that had nothing to do with the fact that she was a civil servant and at a year into her appointment, it would take an act of God to remove her from this lab.
Author:
jennukesWritten for:
gemmi999Archive: Yes, please ask first.
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: None/None
Genre: Gen
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,028 without the header
Disclaimer: I do not own anything and am not getting paid. Y'all know the drill and who these characters really belong to.
Prompt: Abby story--just any type of pre-show Abby (can continue to during show). How did she get the job at NCIS? Why are her and Gibbs so close?
Summary: The FBI was too stuffy; she'd never handle the starched suits there. NCIS, on the other hand, had just enough of a cowboy vibe, given its small size and need to fight the world for jurisdiction at times, to be a true fit for her personality.
Author's Notes:
A) I am sorry,
gemmi999, that this story took so long. First I procrastinated and then realization dawned that I moved twice in the posting period and had a million things to do right before the posting period.B) Thanks to the awesomest betas a girl can have,
pixie_on_acid and squeelated. Sorry about the Word 2007 format! You guys rock at the speedy returns!C) I actually have ideas for more, especially since the unbetaed version was about 35 words shy of the 1000 word mark. These additional ideas (Abby meeting Gibbs) will have to wait until after school settles now that I am here. But they will be written.
D) For reference, most New York State positions have a year probationary period… there are even jobs with TWO years. As almost all state or federal jobs I have seen have a probationary period of a year or more, I went with a year. I have seen them shorter, but a year is pretty standard. Because once probationary is over, then you can never get rid of a civil servant, or at least not without an act of God.
This was her third interview at NCIS. The first two had been with lab personnel; this one was more of a formality – meeting the Director. She’d dressed “appropriately,” hating the need for a suit and heels, but hiding it well. One day, she swore to herself, she’d find that seniority level and place where she could be who she truly was at work.
As she left the director’s office, a young woman caught her eye. She loved to people watch, but Abby suspected this woman would have caught her eye no matter if she didn’t. The man guarding her had handcuffed her and Abby grew angry as it took her only seconds to realize the woman was deaf. Her quick observation showed the woman staring at lips, trying in vain, to read what was going on around her, unable to read well enough or concentrate on any one person since they all moved around her, oblivious to her plight.
“She’s not stupid. She’s deaf.” Abby Sciuto stated all too aware of the usual stereotype that people who couldn't understand those talking to them were stupid. She walked over to the woman and the agent, she assumed, who was in charge of her. “Unhandcuff her.” Abby signed everything she told the agent and added her name into the mix for the woman.
The agent, apparently some idiot right out of training, gaped at her order, turning to look somewhere behind Abby for instruction.
“Do it.” Spoke an annoyed male voice from behind her. Abby didn’t bother turning around. She simply signed to the woman what was going on.
The young agent sighed when the woman’s hands didn’t lash out like before, causing him to handcuff her in the first place.
Abby stayed and translated for the young woman, but the longer she signed, the more something felt wrong. It was when she turned from the woman and talked directly to the agent that she realized the woman, although very good, was faking. Abby hadn’t translated the words from the agent and she knew the woman couldn't see them to lip read, yet she was answering something the agent asked.
Abby caught the agent’s eyes and whispered, “She’s not deaf.”
The woman proved Abby’s thoughts right when seconds later she made a play for an agent’s gun, but was knocked down and handcuffed once again.
“I’m sorry,” Abby told the agent. “I should never have interfered.”
Later, in a club with pounding music, Abby cursed the morning. She'd had a great interview with the Director, but she knew she'd ruined it with what she had done with the woman. She had had no business talking to the suspect. She was a lab rat, a scientist. She knew nothing about questioning and handling suspects. She'd broken her own rule – to never assume she knew more than a trained agent – and she was afraid that it had cost her the job she desperately wanted. NCIS was the perfect place for her. The FBI was too stuffy; she'd never handle the starched suits there. NCIS, on the other hand, had just enough of a cowboy vibe, given its small size and need to fight the world for jurisdiction at times, to be a true fit for her personality. She'd done so much research to find her niche and now she was dead positive she'd lost it all on a stupid move, being nice to a woman who she quickly realized wasn't what she appeared to be. At least the incident reinforced Abby's decision that she was best suited for the lab.
Meanwhile, hours earlier, a man she hadn't even met was barging in on the Director of NCIS and insisting that the young woman who had interviewed with him that morning be hired. It would be years and too much bourbon before Abby ever learned this information.
It was a shock, and Abby Scuito was rarely shocked, when she got the letter offering her a position in the NCIS forensics lab. There was also a happy dance around her living room, but no one was around to see it.
There were months of being the newbie, of conforming to work codes, of hiding herself. And then, six months and the probationary period half over, there was a slow transformation as she began to show her personality. It was a slow morphing, so slow that even Ducky, who worked most often with her couldn't, to this day, pinpoint when she'd let those she cared about see the real her, tattoos and all.
Abby started with exchanging heels for her combat boots. It was rare she wore skirts, because it was a pain in the lab, with all the freedom of movement she needed. Plus, she mostly hated wearing the suit skirts required. When this change was never commented on, her daring grew a bit and she started wearing a bit of her jewelry that was what she wore on her off time.
It was easy to slip into her music when she worked late at night on cases. No one else was there to care and she worked better with the pounding metal. It didn’t take her too long for the music to start bleeding into everyday work.
After nine months there, she bit her lip and let the world see her spider web tattoo. The only comment she received was, "That tat is sweet!" from one of the guards.
A full year into the job, the probationary period officially over, she smiled at herself in her full-length mirror and headed into work in her own clothes. Baggy, low waisted cargos, combat boots, a tight fitting metal graphic tank top over a black tank top, jet black hair in pig-tails tied with red ribbons and all her favorite jewelry. Walking into her lab, and it was definitely hers now, with her graphic photos of wounds all over the walls, Abby felt like she had finally come home. And that had nothing to do with the fact that she was a civil servant and at a year into her appointment, it would take an act of God to remove her from this lab.
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