#tammy gregorio angst

[moonlight-breeze-44]

Shelter From the Storm

Shelter from the Storm

Gregorio comes out to her mother. It doesn't go well. Pride is there to remind her in the aftermath, after Tammy falls into old, bad habits, that she has a team-family here in New Orleans that will always love her for exactly who she is.

Pairings: None main; background PerSalle

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Homophobia, disowning, mental health issues/self-esteem issues, self-harm, graphic descriptions of violence/self-harm, blood & injury

Read on AO3

Gregorio knew it was only a matter of time before she had to make the phone call, but it didn’t mean getting the courage to dial her mother’s number and press call was any easier.

Now, alone in her apartment, she wished her heart would stop pounding into the beginnings of a panic attack and let her fucking breathe. Her hands were so clammy with sweat that she half-expected the phone to slip and fall to the ground. She wondered if maybe it would be better if it did. It would mean she didn’t have to face this.

Gregorio loved her mom, but that was half of the problem. Her mother could be old-fashioned, and Gregorio had been raised in the countryside of New York with two dogs, an old cat, and no father to speak of. In some ways, Gregorio was a lot more like LaSalle than she wanted to admit.

As she waited for Emily Gregorio to pick up her phone, Tammy paced; she was her mother’s only child, and if what she said today devastated her like she feared it would, she doubted there would be another chance for them. This stupid fucking phone call was going to define their entire relationship, and the fear was enough to make Tammy grab the chair in front of her for support, nails scrabbling for purchase along the worn fiber.

No turning back now.

“Tammy?” Her mother’s voice, pragmatic as always, filled Gregorio’s ears and she flinched. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for this as she thought. “What’s wrong?”

It was a response that most other people would consider harsh or brusque, but in reality, Emily was just being realistic; Tammy almost never called unless she was backed into a corner and needed something. Her mother never called unless someone had died. It was a routine that Tammy couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for, considering her mother’s part in it and the lack of warmth between them. But their lack of contact made what Tammy had to say even harder to reveal.

“Mom, I have something to tell you,” Tammy breathed, trying to keep her voice as steady and strong as she could while the panic rattled in her ribcage. She could do this. She had to.

“Oh my god, are you pregnant?” Emily exclaimed, and Tammy heard the blatant delight in her voice at the thought. She shook her head, even though she knew her mother couldn’t see her. This was going to make it even harder to burst her bubble. When the silence stretched on a beat too long, she rolled her shoulders, shaking them out, trying to calm her nerves.

“Uh, no, Mom, I’m not pregnant,” Tammy replied, heaving a deep breath. “I, uh…I-I’m…”

“You’re what, Tammy? Spit it out.”

“I’m gay,” Tammy burst out, chest heaving with having the pressure of her secret released. She felt herself begin to tremble and leaned more of her weight onto the old chair in front of her. “I’m, uh, I’m a lesbian, Mom. I like women.”

The silence that followed her revelation felt like claws around Gregorio’s neck, choking and scratching into her windpipe. She waited with bated breath. Everything hinged on her mother’s reaction. Tammy’s hands were shaking with fear. Even if they weren’t close, she still loved her mother. She still wanted her to be a part of her life.

“Tammy, I…I’m not sure what to say.”

“Anything,” Gregorio begged, hating how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t wait any longer. “Just say something, please.”

“Well, you know this isn’t what I wanted for you,” Emily stated, and Tammy knew it was true. Memories of her bisexual phase in high school rushed to the forefront of her mind, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe past the mental images of her mother’s disdain when she was fifteen and dating Zara Matthews. The coldness in her mother’s voice, then and now, felt like Tammy had swallowed a burning hot coal that was beginning to scorch her insides.

“How will you have children, Tammy?” Emily continued, obviously distraught. Tammy’s fingers tightened on the phone, and she tried to take a deep breath; get herself under control.

“I can adopt,” she replied calmly, “Or find a surrogate. Or…” She paused, hesitating. She was already six feet deep and buried with her mother, it seemed; why not put the nail in her own coffin? “...or maybe I won’t have kids.”

“Tammy,” her mother said reproachfully, “You have to have kids!”

“Says who?” Tammy retorted, her hands trembling where they still held the back of the living room chair for dear life. “I mean, look at me. I’m okay, aren’t I? I’m happy. I, I don’t have to have kids. Besides, I’m an NCIS agent. Who would want a mom who does what I do?”

“A child that understands the meaning of sacrifice,” Emily snapped. “Which you clearly don’t.”

“Mom, I…”

“No, Tammy, just don’t.” Gregorio fell silent, biting her lip hard to avoid letting out the tears that had gathered in her eyes sometime during the phone call. Her mother loved her, she was sure. But Tammy could never be who she wanted, either. And if she had learned one thing from her time in New Orleans with Ethan, before NCIS, it was that sometimes love wasn’t enough.

“Look, dear, I’m not going to say that this is the end of things.” Gregorio’s breath hitched, and she had to fight to keep her emotions in check. She knew that tone well enough to know what her mother was really saying, and it was the end of things. God, she knew her mother wouldn’t approve, but to know it and to have it confirmed were two very different feelings.

“But you should know how I feel about this,” Emily continued, ignorant to her daughter’s pain. “I don’t think it’s right. I don’t think it’s natural. I always thought you grew out of that phase you had in high school, especially after you married Ethan. Which, I know that didn’t work out, but one bad apple doesn’t mean the whole barrel is bad. I-I don’t know what you want from me here, Tammy. You are my daughter, and I love you. But I will not support this lifestyle. When you’re ready, you can come back home. We can work this out. But until then, don’t - don’t call. Don’t visit. Please. Spare us both. I’m sure you won’t feel this way forever, Tammy. When you change your mind, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Mom - ”

“Tammy, please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is. Just-Just sort yourself out, okay? I’ll be here when you need me. I love you.” With that, the call dropped, and Gregorio sank to her knees behind the worn out chair, breathing hard and fast, on the verge of a fucking panic attack from the call. Emily was gone. She recognized the situation for what it was; her mother had given her an ultimatum. Become straight, or say goodbye to her and their home back in New York forever.

It wasn’t a choice at all.

With the sound of the dial tone in her ear, her mother’s final words before she hung up way too loud in her head, Tammy allowed herself to cry, the weight of the emotions she had struggled to hold back before escaping in full. She sobbed into her knees, her shoulders shaking. She couldn’t be something she wasn’t. She couldn’t change, even though there had been more than enough times that she wanted to. She couldn’t give her mother what she had asked for.

In all the ways that mattered, it was over.

She and her mother had never been close. The truth was that Tammy expected the call to end like this, but it was still more of a blow than she had ever expected to know that the woman who raised her would never accept her for who she was. Tammy felt lost, and cut open, like someone had twisted a knife in her and then left her to die on a street corner. She didn’t know what her next steps were, if there even were any, and more than anything, she felt vulnerable.

It was a feeling she wasn’t used to, between her secrecy about her private life and the walls she built around her heart, but it made her want to hide and protect her six from whatever was going to hurt her. But there was nothing to shield herself from, no imminent threat or dangerous gunman; just her own damage and that goddamn dial tone still humming in her ear, a reminder that she would never be able to call home again.

The thought of home sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks, and Tammy finally ripped the cellphone from her ear, throwing it across hardwood until it crashed into the side of her refrigerator. She would regret that later, she was sure, but for now she didn’t care. She couldn’t. The only piece of herself that seemed to matter was in New York, probably opening a bottle of whiskey and no doubt planning to pray for her in church the next day.

Home was gone forever now, even if she hadn’t called it that in years. It was still the place where she was raised, and where she’d learned how to fight for herself in more ways than one. She loved the sprawling hills on their property, and the well where she had nearly drowned once as a child. She loved the fucking tire swing and the garden beds and the old barn where she used to go with the dogs when she needed to be alone. Their house and grounds were so beautiful that sometimes Gregorio hardly believed that she lived in New York growing up. All of it would become a memory now, and she would never be able to touch the wildflowers that grew along the fence line ever again. It shouldn’t have affected her so much, considering it had been years since she even wanted to go home, but the thought of losing it all forever was more than she could handle.

The tears, which hadn’t stopped or slowed in the slightest, were becoming overwhelming and almost nausea-inducing, so Gregorio took a deep breath, moving her hands roughly down her legs, then her calves, then her ankles, trying to ground herself and move away from the precipice of her breakdown. But instead of finding stability in her old brown Doc Martens, like she had hoped, her hand brushed a cold piece of metal, and it sent her heartbeat racing again.

She knew what it was, the feeling unmistakeable against her fingers. It was a sterling silver razor blade, years old at least, tucked into a fraying patch on her boots since November of 2018. She had played a dangerous game with it, allowing it so close; on one hand, it could become dislodged at work and she ran the risk of someone investigating her for psychological issues if they saw where it had been hiding. On the other hand, she could lose it in the field, and she would never have to worry about it, or remember the temptation, ever again.

Neither of those things had happened, apparently, and she knew from the feel of it against her fingers that, somehow, it hadn’t even been scuffed. It was the perfect deadly instrument, even after all these years. Gregorio’s hand trembled.

She hesitated for a second, but pulled the razor blade from the patch on her boot, turning it over and over in her palms like precious gold. A coil of longing hit her like a punch to the gut, and Gregorio tried to suck in a deep breath, wanted to put it back, wanted to throw it away and pretend it never existed, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

If this razor blade had somehow managed to survive three years working as a field agent for the FBI, and one as an NCIS agent, not to mention the countless parties and clubs she’d been to, it had to be a sign. Gregorio didn’t believe in fate, but maybe the gods that weren’t were trying to tell her something now.

It had been five years. It had been half of a lifetime. Part of Gregorio didn’t want to risk it, after fighting so hard to get clean in the first place, but the other, larger part of her that wanted for the quick pain of metal against her skin argued that because it had been so long, it wouldn’t matter now. A relapse wasn’t really a relapse if it only lasted a day, and if she got her act together right after. She could do this, and hide it, then throw it away the next day and no one would ever have to know.

“It’s not like last time,” Gregorio muttered to herself, trying to believe it. “I won’t let it get out of hand.”

She didn’t know if she could keep the promise to herself or not, but it didn’t matter. Her mother’s words were still burning like acid in her lungs, and she just wanted the pain to be replaced with something new, something better, until she was able to get ahold of herself. It was the best, most efficient option, and then she would stop. One cut, she told herself, and after that she would curl up in bed and watch Desperate Housewives or something. One cut, and she would be okay.

Tammy rolled up her sleeve, took a deep breath, and pressed the razor blade to her wrist.

The relief was immediate, almost as overwhelming and euphoric as a drug, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks at the feeling. It didn’t take away her mother’s homophobia, or the way her abandonment made Tammy feel, but it replaced the worst of it with white-hot pain and the familiar sting of a fresh cut instead. Blood welled like storm clouds in the wound, and slid down her wrist until it began to drip onto her pants. Lazily, Tammy remembered she needed to do laundry and didn’t have another pair of work pants. Another, bigger part of her, however, couldn’t be bothered to care.

Instantly forgetting the one-cut promise, Tammy sliced her way through six pristine cuts before stopping to take a breath, her chest heaving with the relief of giving into the old addiction again. She didn’t remember much from three years ago, the last time she cut, but she could swear it had never felt this good before.

Looking down at her arm, a pageant of crimson lines sluggishly bleeding, Tammy felt the calm settle into her bones, numbness chasing away the pain. She exhaled hard, letting her head thump against the forgotten chair in front of her. She got what she needed. She should stop.

She didn’t.

It was close to midnight before she threw the razor blade down and stopped to admire her work. She wasn’t sure how much blood she would have to clean up, or how much she had lost, and she hadn’t eaten today either. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to just sit there after what she’d done, but her head was swimming, and she was so exhausted that even attempting to get up would have been too much for her. So, instead, Tammy rested her arms on the bloodstained slacks, and let her head loll against the back of the living chair. She had slept in worse places.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, Tammy’s alarm came blaring to life at 6am, startling her awake from where she was slumped over next to the chair. Her arms felt like they were glued to her pants, dried blood sticking to the fabric, and she could feel a telltale crustiness on the seat of her pants that meant, somehow, she had managed to sit in a puddle of blood. “God, make it stop,” she muttered, and struggled to get to her feet to turn off the fucking alarm. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this bad.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, where her phone was at, miraculously not dead but down to the last 5% of its battery, it was almost 6:30 and she was going to be late for work if she didn’t hustle.

Tammy made it to her bedroom with less difficulty, though she still felt lightheaded, and got to work peeling the blood-soaked slacks off and painfully removing her shirt, which had a few spots of blood on it from her careless cutting the night before. She searched through her closet as fast as she could for the most lightweight long-sleeved shirt she had, that was a dark enough color to mask the blood if her cuts opened up while she was at work. After that, she selected a pair of dark jeans, even though they were against the agency dress code, and headed to the bathroom to do what she could for her appearance.

To her dismay, her eyes were still a little bloodshot from last night, and her hair was a mess. She would need makeup to cover up the circles underneath her eyes, evidence of multiple nights of restless sleep in preparation for the phone call with her mother.

The thought of her mother made Tammy’s heart seize up, and she pressed on one of the new cuts, hissing at the sharp pain it brought. It was enough to snap her out of her head, at least, and she got to work applying makeup to cover up what she could of her turmoil. Finally, she was able to run a brush through her hair, grab her gun, badge, and car keys, and head out the door.

Just before walking into the Navy Yard, Tammy hesitated, and considered calling in sick. But as tempting as it was to go back to her apartment and stay in bed all day, that wasn’t a good idea; the NCIS team was like a big fucking family, and they were sure to stop by if they got word she wasn’t feeling well. Not only was her apartment a mess, but the pool of blood by the chair in the living room, as well as the razor blade that had caused all of this damage, was still out in the open for any prying eyes to see.

Still, Tammy knew it would be hard to keep what she had done from her teammates. She would have to be on her guard. They were perceptive, even if they weren’t trained profilers like her, and much worse, they knew her. It would take all of her skills at hiding and lying and pretending to fool them into believing she was fine.

The cuts pulled tight as the fabric of her shirt shifted, making each step and movement she made towards the office painful. She had learned how to hide the pain a long time ago, but a part of her wished she had bandaged the wounds before coming in today, instead of hiding the first-aid supplies in her bag in case of an emergency and hoping for the best. But Pride was already going to kill her for being late, and it would take another fifteen minutes at least to deal with the fallout of her habit. She didn’t want to come off any more suspicious than she already was.

Taking a deep breath, Gregorio etched a smile onto her face, and walked into the NCIS office like everything was fine, as always. Nothing is different today, she warned herself, trying to drill it into her brain. Nothing has changed.

“There ya are, Gregorio! Was startin’ to wonder if we was gonna have to send out a search party,” Chris greeted her with a smile, and Gregorio gave him one of her patented bitchfaces in return.

“I got caught in traffic,” she lied, and watched his face for any signs of disbelief as she made her way to her desk. She clocked the slight raise of his eyebrows, his posture lengthening, and reminded herself to adjust her tone when she was lying.

“Didn’t think there was hardly any traffic on Bourbon Street,” Chris commented, and Tammy turned to place her bag next to her desk and start up her computer. It was easier to lie to someone when she didn’t have to face them.

“There isn’t usually,” she replied, keeping her tone light and casual. “Guess today was my lucky day.”

“Guess so,” Chris responded, and Tammy turned around just in time to see him giving her one of his famous, milliwatt smiles. She grinned back, bumping his shoulder playfully on her way into the kitchen. One down, two to go.

By the time she caught up with Pride and Sonja, it was almost midday, and the hot, humid weather prompted a picnic invite from Pride to eat lunch at the bridge in town. Chris, Sonja, and the others all agreed, leaving Gregorio as the odd one out. She knew she couldn’t decline without offering an explanation, lest they become suspicious of her motives, but she couldn’t accept the invitation when she knew either Chris or Sonja would try to roll up her sleeves the second they arrived, either to tease her or out of care for her wellbeing. Refusing their help against potential heatstroke when it was summer in the middle of New Orleans was a one-way ticket to having her secret revealed.

“Tammy, you’re not going to lunch with us?” Percy pouted, her eyebrows drawn up in that Percy way, that said she was more concerned than disappointed, but was too proud to put voice to her feelings. “Come on, don’t you want to hang with the gang?”

“As much as I would love to ‘hang with the gang’,” Gregorio used air quotes and gave Sonja a playful smirk, “I have a prior obligation.”

“Oooh, someone’s got a hot date,” Chris said, walking into the kitchen with an ice chest for their drinks. “So who is it, Gregorio? Black-haired beauty? Feisty redhead? That’s my type.”

“Excuse you,” Percy retorted, raising her eyebrow in his direction.

“Pardon me,” Chris corrected, giving Sonja a fond smile, “That’s usually my type.”

“Better,” Sonja affirmed, before turning her attention to Gregorio once more. “But seriously, T, where you goin’ that you can’t come hang with us?”

“Well, Chris wasn’t exactly wrong,” Gregorio replied, lifting her coffee mug to her lips to take a sip so she could avoid having to look either of them in the eyes. “A certain mayor’s secretary asked me out the other day, and I can’t leave her hanging a second time.” Though it was a lie that they had a lunch date, it wasn’t a lie that she’d been asked out, so Gregorio didn’t feel as bad as she maybe should for using Amber as her scapegoat.

“With that one, you better not,” Chris replied, chuckling. “I’ve heard she’s got some high standards.”

“Of course she does,” Gregorio retorted without missing a beat. “She’s going on a date with me, isn’t she?”

Sonja and Chris both laughed at that, the latter ribbing her good-naturedly for a minute or two before they calmed down. She allowed her smirk to play on her lips, knowing she could pass it off as satisfaction at her joke instead of her lie. They weren’t suspicious of her anymore, not after she’d thrown them a bone. For now, she was safe.

~ ~ ~

Later that night, when the team was getting ready to wrap up and head home, Pride caught her eye, gesturing her into the kitchen. Tammy dropped her bag and took a deep breath, heading in to meet him. She could feel her heart skip a beat.

Of all of them, Pride was the most likely to figure out that something was wrong, even if he was the least likely to react with anything other than kind, calm patience. Still, the idea of her boss finding out her most guarded secret was more terrifying than she could fathom.

Without speaking or otherwise acknowledging Pride, Gregorio took a seat on the barstool across from him, crossed her arms, and waited. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, but forced herself to be motionless and keep her expression blank, lest she give away the anxiety she was feeling.

“So, Gregorio,” Pride said, taking in her position and folding his arms across the top of the bar, “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Gregorio replied defensively, before she could stop herself and try to temper her tone. “What makes you think something’s going on?”

Pride raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “Well, for starters, you came in late today, said it was traffic when traffic is nonexistent on your street, you’re actin’ awful odd, and then you lied to Christopher and Sonja about who you were with for lunch today.”

Gregorio opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, Pride held up his hand and continued, “I have it on good authority that the mayor’s secretary didn’t leave her office all day.” He softened, giving her a worried look, and said, “Just want to know you’re okay, and if anything’s goin’ on that we can help with.”

“It’s nothing,” Gregorio sighed, letting her shoulders slump in defeat. There was no use pretending she was fine if Pride already knew something was up. She didn’t have to tell him everything, but maybe if she told him about her mom, at least, he’d leave her alone.

“Just a little upset from a phone call with my mother yesterday,” Gregorio admitted, picking at her nails to avoid meeting Pride’s eyes. “I came out to her.”

Pride nodded, his eyes filling with support and kindness for her, and moved to wipe down the kitchen counter, in an effort to give her space to talk as much as she wanted to. Gregorio knew the tactic, was familiar with it from teasing the truth out of LaSalle when he was being particularly stubborn. Though she was loathe to admit it, she appreciated it. “How did she take it?”

“Not well,” Tammy sighed, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb to resist the urge to burst into tears again. She had already done enough crying in the past 24 hours. “She basically gave me an ultimatum; stop being gay, or stop coming home. Permanently.”

“Oh, Tammy,” Pride breathed, sympathy pouring out of him and into her. “I’m so sorry.” He reached across the bar to lay a hand on her shoulder, and against her will, Tammy leaned into the touch.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, closing her eyes to avoid letting Pride see how glossy they had become. “W-We were never really close.”

“Still, that’s gotta hurt,” Pride said, withdrawing just enough to allow her time to fight back the tears and open her eyes once more. “Parents’ rejection is…one of the worst things that can happen to a child. No matter how old they are.”

“Yeah,” Tammy breathed, the weight of her own exhaustion hitting her as she slumped on the barstool. She couldn’t remember the last time she had let something damage her like this. Who knew her mother’s decision would have such an impact on her? She sighed and tugged lightly on one of her sleeves, until it was down far enough on her arm to cover her fingers. Pride caught the movement, but said nothing. “To make matters worse, she tried to frame it like she loved me, and she was going to be there for me.” Tammy laughed bitterly, emotion swelling up in her throat. “She’s so convinced I’m going to change, Pride.”

“Not the way it works,” Pride said fondly, giving her a warm smile. His hand, still on her shoulder, was like a grounding wire, keeping her settled, and she felt like she was being comforted by the father she never had.

“Yeah,” Tammy said, again, and her voice wobbled on the last syllable. Under Pride’s kind, supportive words and gentle ministrations, she could feel the dam in her chest threatening to explode, and she slid sideways off of the barstool, grabbing for her coat and heading towards the door. She had to get out of here, before she lost it completely. “Anyway, I should go - ”

“Wait,” Pride called, and moved to follow her, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving. Without thinking, still trying to calm the tidal wave of emotion in her chest, Gregorio hissed in pain.

“Tammy,” Pride said slowly, releasing her wrist with some reluctance, “There something wrong with your arm?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Tammy replied, giving him a quick, panicked smile. “Just bruised it on the countertop when I was getting ready for work this morning.”

“That so?” Pride asked, and he sounded suspicious enough to make Tammy’s heart skip a beat in fear. She curled her fingers around her sleeves protectively. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

“Don’t bother,” Gregorio replied, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “I told you, Pride, it’s nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Pride replied, and he reached for her wrist again. Determined not to give anything away, Tammy kept her face purposefully blank, allowing him to hold her arm in his hand even as his fingers pressing against the cuts felt like a sharp knife against her skin. “Thing is, Tammy…” Pride moved to grasp her sleeve, and Gregorio’s entire body tensed, waiting for his next move. This was not happening.

“You haven’t worn long sleeves this dark, especially during summer, all year,” he continued, “and that first time we talked, up on the balcony in your hotel when you first came here – you wore a tank top, and I don’t think you thought about it then, but I noticed something the others didn’t get the chance to see.” He lifted his gaze to meet Gregorio’s eyes, and she knew, without having to ask what he meant, that she was done for.

Pride knows.

“I’ve seen the scars on your wrists, Tammy,” Pride said softly, “And I’ve never mentioned it, because it’s not my business and I don’t want you to think I’m judging you for it. But if your arm is hurt…after all you’ve been through in the past few days, you understand why I need to check, right?”

Tammy nodded tightly, trying not to cry, as Pride moved to roll up her sleeve. At the last second, just before he could grab the cuff of her shirt, she blurted out: “And what do you think you’ll find, if you check?”

“I think you and I both know the answer to that,” Pride responded, his voice as kind and understanding as ever. Tammy choked on a sob, losing the battle against her emotions, and pulled away from him, running her hands through her hair so hard that she was sure she’d left red, inflamed scratches on her scalp. She heaved a deep breath and choked on it, trying to hold in the breakdown that wanted to happen, fighting to remain in control. Pride couldn’t see her like this. No one could.

“Just - Just please don’t demote me,” Tammy begged, straightening up and gasping for breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. “D-Don’t put me on desk duty. I can still handle myself in the field, I promise I’m not a liability, Pride.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Pride said, and her heart sank. “For now, we need to get you taken care of.” He glanced at his watch, and muttered, “Loretta might still be here, I’d have to check the morgue.”

“No – please,” Gregorio pleaded, embarrassment creeping up to settle like fire on her cheeks. “No one else needs to know about this.”

“They do, Tammy,” Pride argued, raising his eyebrows at her. “They’re your teammates. Your family. They care about you. Of course they should know about this.”

“Please,” Tammy said, raising her arms to hug herself, trying to get some semblance of comfort in the least embarrassing or incriminating way possible.

“Look,” Pride said, gesturing for her to sit down across from him in the kitchen once more, taking a seat opposite her on the island, “I know you’re scared. You’re worried about what the others might think. But they love you, Tammy, and they want to help you. I do too.”

“What if they hate me?” Tammy breathed, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She knew she looked like a wreck, pathetic even, but this was her worst nightmare come true and she couldn’t pretend anymore. “Pride, I’m weak.” She gestured haphazardly at her arms, at herself, and shook her head, avoiding his gaze by staring down the marble kitchen tile. “They’ll see me differently.”

“Maybe so,” Pride conceded, “but not in the way you think. They won’t consider you weak, Tammy. I don’t.” He reached out to lay his hand on her arm, comforting and grounding her with the touch. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Gregorio.”

“Even now that you know I - ” Tammy gestured to her arms once more, at a loss for words. “ - Again?”

“Even now,” Pride confirmed, giving her a firm nod and a steady look that swore honesty. “Tammy, no one on this team will think any less of you for struggling with this.”

“Promise?” Tammy whispered, letting some of the vulnerability she was feeling slip into her voice as she asked the question.

“Promise,” Pride affirmed, and gave her arm a soft, gentle pat.

Gregorio nodded, her shoulders slumping in relief as some of the tension was alleviated. “Do you have to tell them tonight?”

“No, not tonight,” Pride responded. “But soon.”

“I understand.” Gregorio looked away, the fear thundering back to life in her chest. For an instant, under Pride’s reassuring words, it had disappeared.

“It’s gonna be okay, Gregorio,” Pride promised her, moving from the opposite side of the bar to wrap her in a tight hug. “The team’ll take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t have to,” Gregorio protested weakly, but Pride shushed her with a hand in her hair, stroking gently.

“We want to,” he said, and Gregorio was struck with how much she wished he could have been her real dad. Maybe her future would’ve turned out better if he was. “This is somethin’ that everyone is more ‘n willin’ to help you with. We’re gonna get it taken care of. Got your back, Tammy, not just for work.”

“Thanks, Pride,” Gregorio whispered, too emotional to express her gratitude any further. She was sure Pride understood. In his arms, trembling, Gregorio could admit that maybe what she had really needed was the support and acceptance of her loved ones. Maybe her mother would never love her the way she was, but she had an entire family here in New Orleans that did.

Maybe that was what mattered.

And if, the next day, when Loretta called her down to the morgue and told Gregorio about her mother’s issues with self-harm while she bandaged the fresh cuts on Tammy’s arms, she felt a small piece of her heart begin to heal, she didn’t mention it. And if, when Sebastian gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and offered to call her and ramble about whatever came to mind when she was having urges, she started to tear up, well, no one could prove it (she had threatened Sebastian with removing his Power Rangers collection from the lab if he told anyone). And if, when Chris said nothing but drew her into the tightest hug she could ever remember receiving, and Percy showed up at her house without warning to sit on the couch with her and watch basketball, she began to realise this was all the family she needed, she knew she could blame Pride for most of it.

Getting clean again, and resisting the urge to take a blade to her arms whenever she felt like her world was falling apart, was a fight that took months, and she did end up on desk duty for some of it, but despite the silence that stretched between her and her mother, she found that the most important thing was the family that she had right here.

Maybe she didn’t need what used to be her home when she had a better one here in New Orleans.

[cinnikiroll]

being alive isn't a sin / there's no need to apologize

Summary: When Tammy comes out to her mom and it doesn't go well, Hannah is there to comfort her.

Word Count: 1,675 words

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of religious guilt, 'praying for forgiveness' for being lesbian, mentions of being a "sinner" for being lesbian, along with other content of that nature. Read with caution, or don't read at all, if that type of content upsets you.

If you like this fic, please do check out my other fanfics on AO3 under the username cinnikiroll. Here is a link to my profile, where I have fics from other shows for your viewing pleasure!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnikiroll

Tammy's hands shook as she picked up her phone.

She had been dreading this call for days, ever since she'd told her mother she needed to talk about something serious. As she opened her contacts, her thumb hovering over the call button, she could already feel the heat of judging eyes on the nape of her neck.

The saying, 'there is no hate like Christian love' remained in the forefront of Tammy's mind as she finally gained enough confidence to hit the call button. Her body was trembling, and she could feel tightness building in her chest.

"Ma? I have something to tell you."

Her voice was small, meek, a far cry from her typical confident tone. She could hear the concern in her mother's voice when she responded.

"I... I'm lesbian, Ma."

The silence on the other end of the call said more than any words could. It seemed to extend into eternity, permeating every corner of Tammy's terrified heart.

She had already considered what to do if her mother judged her for her sexuality, but she had been holding on to a loose sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, the legendarily pious Mrs. Gregorio could be accepting of her daughter's identity and love her despite it.

With every second the silence lasted, Tammy's grip on the rope of hope loosened, until she was adrift in the sea of judgement and pain.

A deep, exasperated sigh could be heard on the other end of the line, pushing Tammy further out to sea. She could no longer see the shoreline, and she felt as if she was drowning in pain. Her own mother, judging her for who she loved... it was hard to accept.

Yet, she knew she needed to. She couldn't pretend that she was something she wasn't, couldn't pretend she was straight, just to please her loved ones. She'd done that for years, but the lack of genuineness she'd felt had dragged her down.

At every admittedly infrequent family meeting or discussion, whether over the phone or in person, she'd had the urge to leap up and proudly proclaim her lesbian identity to the crowd, judgement be damned!

But now that Tammy had actually opened up, revealed that part of herself... it felt as if she had lost more than she had gained.

Had it been a mistake to be honest?

Should she have lived a lie, just for the sake of being close to her family, to those who loved her?

No. She shouldn't have. No matter how painful her mother's judgement was, she had to open up about her identity, had to be genuine.

"You can't be."

Those three words, full of indignation and shock, were all Tammy's mother could utter. The sounds of shifting rosary beads and soft prayers muttered in Italian in the background informed Tammy that not only her mother had heard her confession; a great deal of her family members that were visiting had as well, and they appeared to be frantically trying to pray the gay out of her.

"I am, Ma. I have been for years. I'm sorry, I-"

"You should be ashamed! You're a disgrace to the Gregorio family name! A sinner!"

Tammy was dumbstruck by the vitriol in her mother's words. All vestiges of concern had disappeared, replaced by red hot rage. It had been so long since she'd heard her mother yelling, and memories of her childhood flowed back to her unbidden and undesired.

"Return to God! Pray to him. You're a good Catholic girl, Tamara Gregorio. There's no reason for you to live in sin like this."

With every word that left her mother's mouth, more memories began to return to Tammy, leaving her curled up on her couch crying, unable to respond to any of her mother's- and her other family members'- angrily hurled words of judgement.

"I'm sorry, Ma," she managed to gasp out once her sobs had quieted down a bit.

"But it's who I am. I can't, and I won't, change it. I already have a girlfriend-"

The agonized cry on the other end of the line cut off the rest of the sentence Tammy wanted to say.

The clicking sound that followed of the phone hanging up cut off the rest of the conversation Tammy wanted to continue.

The text that followed shortly after, just six simple words, cut off any remaining hope of connection or familial love Tammy hoped to feel.

"You are not my daughter anymore."

--------------------------------------------------------------

The darkness of the night was deep and quiet as Hannah laid down to rest. Her heart had been troubled and pained the whole day, concerned for Tammy, who she knew had chosen to call her mother and come out to her.

She knew firsthand that religious parents had the possibility to be extremely intolerant of any member of the LGBTQIA+ or any minority community. Thankfully, her Muslim parents had been remarkably kind and loving towards her when she'd come out, but she knew that was the exception to a very painful rule.

Rolling over and rustling her sheets, Hannah noticed the time- 11:30- and then heard a soft knock on her door. It was barely perceptible, but her good hearing allowed her to notice it.

Unaware of who would come to visit her on such a dark and unnaturally cold late night, she swiftly opened the drawer that held her service weapon- which she wasn't supposed to keep at home, but she took no chances as a woman living alone- and went carefully and cautiously to the door.

Making her footsteps as soft as possible, she sidled up to it and yelled in a loud voice to whoever was outside.

"Who's there? I am a trained federal agent; I have a gun and I will use it!"

A familiar voice responded, and Hannah felt her heart aching at the pained tone it held.

"It's Tammy. I... I need you."

As soon as Hannah opened the door, Tammy practically threw herself into the taller woman's arms, pushing both of them down to the hardwood floor with the force of her embrace.

"Oh, eshgham... the call went badly, didn't it? I'm so sorry."

The gentleness in Hannah's tone, the caring way she spoke her often used term of endearment-eshgham, meaning my love in Farsi- just brought more tears to Tammy's eyes. Before long, she was fully sobbing, unable to breathe well.

"I... I'm a sinner. A disappointment to my family..."

Tammy repeated her mother's words tearfully, and Hannah's eyes widened in shock upon hearing those horrible insults spoken.

"No, my dear. You aren't a sinner. Identifying as a lesbian, or as bisexual, or as any member of the LGBTQIA+ community doesn't make you a sinner. Your mother may say that, but those are just words. They aren't the truth."

She pulled her girlfriend closer, determined to comfort her. Seeing the woman she loved so confident that she'd failed her religion and family simply because she chose to love differently to their standards broke her heart. She wanted to cry herself, but she forced herself to be strong, to hold the woman she loved in her arms and say comforting words as if nothing was wrong.

Tammy silently showed Hannah the text her mother had sent her.

You're not my daughter anymore.

"She'll never be my Ma ever again..."

The childlike way she said that, the raw pain in her voice... it tore Hannah right to the core of her being.

As a mother, she could never imagine disowning her child over anything. Naomi was her world, her heart. Granted, she was also only twelve years old, not a grown woman, but a mother always viewed her daughter as their baby, no matter how old they grew.

The bond between a daughter and mother was sacred. It was unfathomable to her that Tammy's mother could forsake that bond over something that seemed so trivial.

Unwittingly, she shed tears over this parting, dampening Tammy's shirt. When Tammy noticed the pain that her girlfriend was suffering due to the agony she herself was suffering, she felt a sudden wave of love drown her heart.

Hannah loved her so much that she was willing to cry over her pain? Even though she might never understand it?

The thought of such deep love brought a smile to Tammy's face, and before soon, all of her sadness was banished.

Who cares if her family judged her under some false premise that being lesbian made her a sinner?

Who cares if her mother never spoke to her again?

She had Hannah, and the force of Hannah's love alone could sustain her.

Hungrily, like a baby seeking milk from its mother, Tammy's lips began to rove over her girlfriend's slender frame, biting gently whenever she found sensitive spots.

Hannah's tears were quickly forgotten, replaced by soft whimpers of pleasure at the touch of her lover's lips against her sensitive skin. She pulled Tammy closer to her, looking into the other woman's eyes with unbridled passion.

"I love you," she murmured, "even if your family does not. You are my guiding star, my anchor in an ocean of sorrow. Never think you are less than simply because you don't conform to typical Roman Catholic standards. Religious standards for women are usually stupid anyway."

Tammy paused in her love biting to laugh loudly at Hannah's comment about religious standards. It was true, they were quite often antiquated and conservative, especially when it came to women.

Hearing the laughter of the woman she loved brought a bright smile to Hannah's face, and before long, both of them were smiling and laughing, their sorrow forgotten, at least for the moment.

When they finally tired and went upstairs to sleep, Tammy clung tightly to the taller woman, not wanting to lose her. Despite the many assurances of endless love that she'd been given, she was still afraid given recent events.

"I'm not leaving you, ghalbam. I promise."

And Hannah kept that promise, clinging tightly to Tammy the whole night.

[improvidus]

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters | Oneshot

Rating | K+

Warnings | None

Genres | H/C, friendship, family

Characters | Christopher LaSalle, Dwayne Pride

Relationships | Christopher LaSalle x Dwayne Pride (friendship)

Word Count | 3K

Summary: With two full-time jobs and the investigation into his family's company, Christopher LaSalle is beyond exhausted. Pride decides it's time to stage an intervention. Takes place in early S5.

"You always were a party animal."

The team was gone, the bar was closed, the lights were low, and Christopher LaSalle sat alone, the epicenter of a semi-organized explosion of paperwork that spilled across nearly every inch of the table he occupied. At the sound of Pride's voice, he looked up and stretched, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. He huffed. "Yeah, well. Not anymore. Lately my nights are filled with a whole lotta...this." He flung out a hand to indicate the chaos surrounding him.

"You've been goin' pretty hard, Christopher. For a long time, now." Pride dragged a chair out and straddled it, gazing at LaSalle with what Percy used to call his 'concerned basset hound' face. "Why don't you head on home? Get some rest."

"I'll be alright, King. I gotta get this stuff squared away with the IRS."

"I know. That's what I'm talkin' about. NCIS, your family's company—" LaSalle appreciated that Pride never referred to it as his company. "You've got two fuller than full-time jobs and now all this, too. You're burning the candle at both ends, and I suspect the middle's gonna catch up wit' you sooner than you're thinkin'."

LaSalle ran a hand over his face. "I know, King. I do. I just—I don't see what I can do different. My family needs LaSalle Enterprises. Not to mention all the employees who're depending on it to keep them and their families afloat. And NCIS…" He trailed off, studying the grain of the wood where a bit of table peeked through the sea of paper. His voice grew quiet. "Well, I need that. Keep me afloat."

When he looked up, Pride's eyes were smiling. "An' we need you. Always. But if you need to take a break an' deal wit' all this—we'll manage. And we'll be around when you're ready to come back."

"I appreciate that, King. But I'm good. Really."

Pride did not appear to be convinced. "Christopher. When was the last time you—"

"The last time I what, slept?" LaSalle bristled. "Don't do that."

Pride drew back a little. "Don't do what?"

"Don't try to take care of me."

Pride let out an incredulous bark of laughter. "Christopher, I'm always gonna take—"

LaSalle cut him off, surprised by the sudden irritation flaring in his chest. "No, I know, that's not what I mean. You're always tryin' to take care of everybody, but you never stop to take care of yourself. At least, not lately. You think I don't see it? I know you, King! How many times, how many cases, have you told me that I couldn't take care of anybody if I wasn't takin' care of myself? Well, I'm pretty dang sure that isn't a principle that applies exclusively to me! I know you haven't been sleeping either, so don't be all up on my back about it!" He took a breath.

Pride was staring at him.

There was an awkward beat.

LaSalle deflated a little. "Look, it's not like I don't wanna sleep. Believe me, I want to. I just…" He let out a mirthless huff. "I don't have time to sleep. And when I do…" He trailed off and shook his head. Pride didn't need to know about the nightmares.

Pride was quiet, waiting for something.

But LaSalle didn't have anything to give him. He tapped his fingers on the table once, twice. Then the fight drained from his shoulders, and he put his head in his hands. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but he felt even more wiped out than he had a few minutes ago.

"Christopher." There was a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head, but a few moments ticked away before his eyes flicked up to meet Pride's. The hurt he had expected to see there was nowhere to be found. Only concern shined back at him. Fourteen years, and the patience of this man still blew him away sometimes.

A wave of regret washed over LaSalle. "I'm sorry, King. I know you're tryin'. It's not fair for me to take this out on you. I just...Well, I wish you'd take some of your own advice every once in a while." A sigh shuddered free, unbidden. "And as far as work goes..." He shook his head and rubbed at his chin. "Well, the truth of the matter is, I'm afraid if I give the company my full attention, it's gonna suck me up and never let me go." He shook his head once more, meeting Pride's eyes, now. "If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon stick around."

Pride smiled, but LaSalle knew him well enough to spot the worry mostly concealed behind the crinkled, twinkling eyes. "Always happy to have you."

LaSalle nodded, somewhat relieved. Then the time, lit up in the lower-right corner of his laptop, caught his eye and he straightened. "Shoot, King! I had no idea what time it was. You must be waitin' to get to bed."

Pride shrugged. "Nah. It's like you said. I haven't been sleepin' much either. You're welcome to keep workin'. Here." He tossed LaSalle a fob of keys and rose, grunting, to his feet. "I'm gonna get a shower. Lock up when you finish?"

"Sure thing."

Pride squeezed LaSalle's shoulders as he passed his chair. "Don't stay up too late."

"Yes, Dad."

Pride chuckled and LaSalle smiled, but then the attic door clicked shut and he was alone with his exhaustion and a mountain of trouble in the form of receipts, bank statements, and a whole lot of zeroes. The glare from his laptop suddenly seemed blinding, and he rubbed at his eyes again as a long-pent up sigh burst from his lips. Times like these, he wished he'd never given up coffee.

                                                          ***

Dwayne Pride pulled a clean t-shirt over his head and sighed.

Christopher was right; he knew that. It was hypocritical of him to scold his friend for pushing himself too hard when he was doing the same thing to himself. Remove the log from your own eye…

He shook his head. Well, it was easier said than done.

He had seen the exhaustion pulling at Christopher ever since his father's death, since LaSalle Enterprises had fallen squarely on his unwilling shoulders. And in the weeks after Pride had been shot, there had been something else, too—a hollowness in Christopher's eyes amidst the relief, dimming the sparkle he could usually count on finding there. Lines and shadows had formed around his eyes, ones that Pride knew from years past—and more recently, personal experience—meant nightmares.

Like the scars Amelia's bullets had inflicted on Pride's body, the shadows faded over time, but the weariness remained and deepened as the burden of the investigation into LaSalle Enterprises grew in size and weight. Something had to change, and soon.

He could order Christopher to take time off, get things sorted, but he suspected the team was the only thing holding Christopher together right now. His words of fifteen minutes ago were all but an admission.

Pride reached for his towel as an idea took seed in his head. He mulled on it for a minute or two, giving his hair a few brisk shuffles before returning the towel to its hook and heading for the kitchen. If he played his cards right, maybe he could lull Christopher into catching some sleep without his getting wise. It was a temporary fix, but a far sight better than no fix. He opened the squeaky cupboard above the stove and reached for the hot chocolate.

While milk—braced with a generous dose of heavy cream—warmed on the stove, Pride took his Fathers' Day mug from Laurel down from the shelf by the coffee maker. A flash of red caught his eye, and he moved another cup aside to reveal Christopher's Alabama mug. He pulled it down, cracking a grin as he ran his thumb over the slightly scratchy paint of the Crimson Tide emblem. Roll tide. He wasn't actually sure when—or how—the mug had made its way into his kitchen, but he did know it had been there for a very long time. Boy'd probably left it in the truck, or something.

The milk began to hiss and he dropped a few scoops of cocoa in, mixing until the dark globs disappeared. When the mugs were filled, he dunked a stick of cinnamon in each and stirred them around a bit. He paused to wipe up the small mess he had made when he poured the mugs and then headed back down the stairs to collect his drinking partner.

"Chris? I've gotta fresh cup of hot chocolate up here, and it's got your name all—" he reached the last step and looked up, stopping in his tracks. "—over it."

The makeshift workplace was even more disheveled than when he had last seen it. Several of the stacks of paper had been toppled over, loose pages floating to carpet the barroom floor. There was a file folder there, too, its contents fanned out amongst peanut shells and crushed pretzels.

In the middle of this chaos, Christopher LaSalle slept, face pillowed on his keyboard, one arm flung out across the table, the other curled around his laptop.

Pride huffed, a smile lining his face as a feeling too large for his heart to contain swelled in his chest and prickled his eyes. Christopher LaSalle had come such a long way from the angry young detective he had met over a decade ago. He had become family. Pride would trust him with his life—with Laurel's life, even. They had been through hell and back together, and Pride took a moment to thank God for this Jonathan of a friend.

On an impulse, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the camera app, turning on the flash before snapping a photo. Neither the sudden burst of light nor the unnecessarily loud shutter sound did anything to rouse the sleeping man. Pride swiped to the photo and grinned. Whether to share with the team or to save for himself, it was a keeper. At the very least, he'd be sending it to Laurel.

He was reluctant to wake his friend, but he reasoned that he'd have a much better chance of sleeping through the night if he did his sleeping on Pride's couch rather than on his keyboard. At the very least, he'd have fewer cricks in the morning.

"Christopher." There was no response, and Pride stepped around the table to try again. Motion on the laptop's screen caught his eye. A text document was open, reading simply, "jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj." Even as he watched, it filled the remainder of the page and moved on to the next. He smirked. "That'll show 'em." Shaking his head, he put a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "Chris?" He knelt and shook him a little. "Christopher. Hey, son."

It took a bit more prompting, but eventually Christopher stirred, inhaling sharply. His left eye—his right was squeezed shut by his cheek plastered to the keyboard—cracked open and blinked in confusion for a moment before he frowned and lifted his head. Little squares were imprinted on his cheek where the keys had pressed. A few pages drifted to the floor on the breeze he caused as he sat up.

"Hey." Pride smiled at him and did his best to swallow the laughter that rose in his throat at the bleary grin Christopher offered him in return.

"Hi."

"You sleepin' good there, m'brother?"

Christopher squinted and looked around the empty bar. His frown deepened.

This time, Pride didn't quite manage to catch the chuckle before it escaped. "C'mon, son. Let's get you someplace you can lie down."

Christopher mumbled a hazy "'kay," but Pride was fairly sure the kid hadn't actually understood his words.

He tried again. "Can you get up an' walk wit' me upstairs?"

Christopher nodded. And made no move to comply. In fact, after a moment or two of blinking blankly at Pride, his head returned to the keyboard with a dull clunk. This time, the h key was sent on a marathon.

Shaking his head, Pride allowed himself another chuckle. At the moment, Christopher resembled nothing more than a toddler who'd been awakened too early from a nap. When his eyes fell closed again, Pride stood and took him gently by the arm.

"Alright, okay. Let's go." With some difficulty, he coaxed Christopher up and guided him towards the stairs.

"Case?"

Pride gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Nope. No cases tonight. Just sleep."

Halfway up the stairs, Pride was cursing himself for neglecting to have the new banister installed as he barely managed to catch Christopher when his clumsy steps nearly led him right over the edge. A few stumbles and catches and grunts later, they made it to the top and Pride reached around Christopher to push the door open. He wrestled his friend inside and kicked the door shut behind them.

"Kin'?"

"Yeah, Christopher," Pride strained, doing his best to abort Christopher's collision course with a bookcase.

"'M really tired."

Course corrected, they made their way into the living area. "I know it, Christopher. We're gonna get you some sleep, okay?"

Christopher nodded as Pride propped him in the corner between the wall and the bookcase. "Stay put." When he was sufficiently that convinced Christopher would topple over when he let go of him, Pride turned to gather up the sheet music scattered across the couch and transfer it to the piano bench. "Over here, Christopher."

Christopher obediently sat down on the edge of the couch, hands planted against the cracked leather on either side of him. Pride felt his bewildered gaze on his back as he entered the bedroom and re-emerged with a pillow and a quilt. He placed the pillow against the arm of the couch and patted it. "Lie down."

The younger man shook his head in a petulant way that brought the photo of seven-year-old Christopher, barely-visible in his big brother's football gear, flashing through his mind's eye. Then Christopher set his jaw, and the little boy disappeared. "This ain't right."

Pride frowned. What did that mean? He had no way of knowing if Christopher was referring to his obvious state of disorientation or something deeper, but he decided answers would have to wait until they had both had some sleep. Instead, he looked his friend in the eye and infused his voice with all the conviction he had in him. "This is exactly right." He held Christopher's eyes until he saw a flicker of understanding, and then he gave the pillow another pat. "Now lie down, son."

This time, Christopher complied, face crashing into the pillow, eyes slipping closed—and feet remaining on the floor. Pride waited a moment for him to kick his shoes off and pull them up, but Christopher was still. Like a light, Pride thought with a smirk. Kneeling, he pulled off Christopher's shoes before taking his ankles and swinging them onto the couch. He watched Christopher's face as he shook out the quilt and laid it over the boy.

The weariness that Pride had seen in his face earlier was gone, replaced by an expression so peaceful it bordered on serenity. If before Pride had thought he looked ten years older, he now looked ten years younger. The lines of stress and sadness, engraved by years on a job that had given him a front-row seat to all the worst the world had to offer, were softened in sleep. Only the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth remained distinct, and Pride smiled.

He made one last trip downstairs to lock up and shut off the lights, pausing by Christopher's abandoned workspace. He saved the open documents, opting not to erase the gibberish inflicted by his friend's impromptu nap. Something to tease him about, later. Then he powered down the laptop and put the papers—as much in order as he could figure—back into the accordion folder at the foot of the chair Christopher had occupied.

He carried these things upstairs and placed them alongside his sheet music on the piano bench before the scent of cinnamon and cocoa drew him back to the kitchen. He poured the not-so-hot chocolate into a pitcher, cinnamon and all, and put it in the fridge for another night, another dilemma. His job had been much easier than expected, tonight. A yawn swelled in his throat as he placed the mugs in the sink and filled them with water.

Pride checked on Christopher one more time on his way to his room. He slept soundly, one arm dangling over the edge of the couch, feet up over the arm at the end. The glow from neon lights outside the window cast his face in squares of cool blue and flickering yellow. Pride bent down and took his wrist, gently folding his arm back beneath the quilt. He put a hand on the younger man's back.

"Sweet dreams, Christopher." God knows they're precious.

A few minutes later, he was in his own bed, his partner of years asleep in the next room. Outside, someone played "Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water" on a tenor sax. He closed his eyes.

And for the first time in many weeks, Dwayne Pride slept deeply and free of dreams.

A/N: Welcome to my brand-spankin’-new NOLA blog! This fic is my first foray into this fandom, and I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts! I’ve got another one well underway, as well as a long-ish series in the brainstorm stages.

The events of this fic are largely based on real-life experiences that I do not recall because I was still so sleepy I was falling all over the place. Ironically, my beta was falling nodding off at her laptop whilst reading about Pride making hot chocolate, which is about the point Christopher was doing the same thing downstairs.

Speaking of my my beta, you should all go check out the brilliant, brilliant Mellia Bee on AO3 and FF.net. Her Steggy stories are the bomb, and a huge part of why I started writing fanfic.

The Scripture Pride references is from Matthew 7:5, and because it’s probably kind of obscure, “Jonathan of a friend” was referring to the best friend of David, Israel’s most famous king. Jonathan really stuck his neck out for David, helping him at great danger to himself. You can read about them in 1 Samuel. And finally, the photo of small Christopher was just me throwing in a nod to Lucas Black’s role in Friday Night Lights. I’ll try to post the actual photo, because it’s really stinkin’ rotten adorable, and y’all must see it.

Apologies for the long A/N! Thank you for reading this, and thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to comment! Feedback is soul-food, like pecan pie, and it keeps le old gears turning. While we’re on the topic of food, don’t forget to eat today, lovey human! Drink your water, take your vitamins, eat an orange. I love you. Jesus loves you. Hang in there.

Author out.

My FF.Net page:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/12357741/

My AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project7723/works

[hannah-khoury-deserves-better]

Take Me Home Chapter One

Summary: Hannah gets some unexpected news and she and Tammy have to figure out their new reality.

Words: 2387

Warnings: none

Pairings: Hannah Khoury/Tammy Gregorio, Tammy Gregorio/Sebastian Lund (Friendship) others to be added.

                                               A Wind of Change

Sitting at the table in the breakfast nook at Sebastian and Tammy's house. Hannah let a soft smile come across her lips as she looked over at Tammy. With Tammy Gregorio it was easy, easy to love her, far easier than it had been with Ryan Porter.

Tammy then spoke “Hey did you hear my question?”

“Huh? Sorry lost in thought.”

“I asked what you wanted for breakfast.”

“I want waffles,” Sebastian called out while he walked into the kitchen. He let out a small gasp once he recognized Tammy's house guest. ”Wait. Hannah? Why are you here? Do we have a case?”

Hannah let out a small groan, “You said he was getting back this afternoon, I knew we should have gone to my place. I'm going to go get dressed.” Standing up in the FBI tee she had stolen from Tammy’s dresser that morning and walking past Sebastian even though she was sure that Sebastian had seen the heart print briefs she had on as well.

---

“Easy baby, I'll handle it.” Tammy said as she shoved Sebastian back towards the living room.

“What the hell aren't you supposed to be at some nerd thing?”

“Comic-Con is not for nerds it's for enthusiasts. And I got in last night, I see you didn't wait up for me. Wait, that was your shirt she had on. Why is Hannah here?”

They stood quietly. Tammy raised one eyebrow at him.

“Oh my god your seeing Hannah. Wait how long has this been going on?”

“Look, me and Hannah have a little thing going on, and it's been six weeks. Let me go try and calm Hannah down before she decides to kill you, you know she could do it and get away with it. Do not mention this to anyone or I'll hurt you got it.”

“Yeah no I understand.” Sebastian nodded nervously.

“Wait. Six weeks, you've been dating for six weeks?” He watched as Tammy slide into her room and hearing her greet Hannah softly and sweetly before her door closed in front of him. He shook his head and headed to make coffee for three.

---

“I'm sorry baby, apparently he meant last night not tonight.” Tammy said as she closed the door.

Hannah paused in buttoning her red shirt and looked at her, “It’s fine other than the fact that I'm not supposed to see my subordinate, oh and no one other than you even knows I like girls! But it's fine, I'm just going to get fired or transferred to Siberia, it fine, you know except I hate the cold, my daughter is here, your here, and I'm exhausted all the time now.”

“Wow I think that's the most words I've ever heard you say at once,” Tammy said as she slid closer to Hannah “now should I kiss you to make up for all this, see if I can get you out of your jeans.” And pulled Hannah against her both arms looping around Hannah's waist.

Hannah laughed, “Sure, let’s see what you can do,” one hand coming up to rest on Tammy’s face the other sliding around Tammy's back then Hannah's phone began blaring and she groaned in response.

She turned to look for it. Finding it under her shirt from the day before she scooped it up.

“Hey Lasalle, what do we got?” She chirped and heard the Alabama accent chatter, nodding.

“All right call Loretta have her meet us there, no I'm near their house I'll stop and pick them up. Ok see you there.” Hanging up the phone.

She turned to Tammy “So let's put these plans on hold, double murder of two sailors.” She said as she gave Tammy one last kiss. Then moving to finish getting ready “Tell Sebastian please.”

---

“Right what do we have Loretta?” Tammy asked.

“We have petty officer third class Regan Clark and petty officer first class Damon Sims both served on the Chinook, both were found this morning, Regan was stabbed in the neck, but Damon well.. Christopher will you help me?” Loretta asked, pointing at the corpse.

“Oh course Ms. Loretta” as they turned the body over on the ground.

Tammy noticed Hannah's face turn almost as she clamped one hand over her mouth the other over her stomach. A wave of shock rushed through Tammy as she watched Hannah's reaction. Hannah hadn't been bothered a bit by the shrimp boat case, where the body had been bloated by the ocean, but this one while bad wasn't nearly on the same level of smell.

“He has been sliced into to spell out, from six to one the spell is spun, no time to run, the curse begun and some kind of symbol I’ll know more once I get them back to autopsy.” Loretta commented, scribbling on her notepad.

“Okay what curse?” Tammy asked looking down at the body.

“This is New Orleans, this city was built on curses” Hannah said, having managed to swallow her nausea.

“Yeah there a ton of them, wait how do you know that you've only been here about five months.” Chris said as he looked up from photographing the body.

“I've got a degree in history, I like it so when I moved here I studied up on it, but my master’s thesis was on New Orleans history.” Hannah replied.

“Okay Tammy, Chris deep dive the victims, I’ll call their COs see if they were working on anything worth killing over, Sebastian.” Hannah said, giving the orders.

“Heading to the lab.” Sebastian replied.

“Great. Anything you get us can help us get this guy really look into that symbol as well I think I recognize it and if I'm right, I have a sinking suspicion that he's not done yet.”

Upon arriving at headquarters, Hannah went straight to the bathroom, having had to try very hard not to throw up while in the car with Tammy, she expelled what she was fairly certain was the contents of her entire stomach, noting that she seemed slightly bloated. But she stood slowly and washed her mouth out, heading back in to the bullpen, ignoring the fact that both Tammy and Chris were giving her concerned looks, pulling up the Chinook’s list.

She discovered they worked under Senior Chief Petty Officer James Shal, calling his number she discovered that the officers had been on shore leave and were rumored to be dating, but that Clark had a ex that she had been trying to seek a restraining order against, but neither had any type of security clearance, Clark was a culinary specialist, and Sims worked radio.

Chris glanced over at Tammy and she nodded, she was ready to present, but when he looked over at Hannah he thought she looked like she was asleep so he walked over towards her desk.

“Boss, you ready for us to present? Hannah?” He tapped on her desk and she jerked, waking up from where her head had been resting in her hand.

“Yeah, go for it.” She said as she blinked several times to wake herself up.

Chris lifted the remote “Petty officer first class Damon Sims age 30, no money troubles, not much a personal life, joined the navy when he was 18. He is interested in treasure in particular anything to do with the so called, ‘Crystal Cove.’”

Tammy grabbed the remote from him, “Petty officer third class Regan Clark, age 25, up until recently was in fairly deep debt but made several big payoffs, has an ex that lives in the city. Joined the navy only 2 years ago, seems to have no hobbies, nothing at all even connecting her to Sims.”

“Well that is not quite true,” Hannah said as she leaned over her desk, one hand dropping over her abdomen and running lightly over it, “According to their CO, neither were on any kind of classified assignment, Clark worked as a culinary specialist and Sims worked radio. They were on shore leave together and were rumored to be seeing each other. As for Clark’s ex, she tried and failed to get a restraining order against him. Gregorio look into why.”

“Chris, I want you to go to the morgue and check in with Sebastian, help him with the symbol, concentrate on pirates that may have connections to the Crystal Cove. I'll look into the legend here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Hannah said as she rushed towards the bathroom.

Tammy looked over at Chris, “She seem okay to you?”

“Not one bit, keep an eye on her Gregorio.” Chris replied as he grabbed his keys before going to the SUV for a visit to the JPSO for results.

“Always, you know that.” Tammy said as she turned to look towards where Hannah had disappeared.

----

Chris walked down the hall and turned into the morgue, “Alright Ms. Loretta, tell me what do we got here.”

“Well like I said at the crime scene, Ms. Clark’s, cause of death was a stab wound on the throat. The killer severed both of her carotid arteries, she would have died nearly instantaneously.” Wade explained, circling around the table where the corpse laid on.

“While Mr. Sims, well he died very slowly, the wounds on his back where likely caused by a very sharp straight blade, and he was tortured before his death, he was punched repeatedly in the abdomen, there was blood in his stomach.” Wade said gesturing towards the next table, “He has three broken ribs, and seven of his fingernails were ripped out very close to the time of death, the final cause of death was exsanguination, the symbol and words on his back were done pre mortem.”  

“This killer wanted to cause pain to this young man.” Wade sighed, putting a hand on her hip.

“Alright thank you. Do ya know if Sebastian is done?”

“Yes and I found something very interesting” Sebastian said as he burst into the morgue.

“Alright, what is it?”

“Quartz dust. But not from any known mines in this area, this is different. It’s also been worked.”

“Well how can you know that?” Chris asked with a quirked brow at him.

“Trace minerals but old ones, lead and sulfur.”

“Meaning” Chris pulled out the word, lowering his head.

“This is old quartz, like Spanish conquistadors. Old.”

---

Chris and Sebastian walked in “We've got a problem. The quartz dust is old, really old.” Sebastian announced.

“That makes sense,” Hannah said as she looked up “everything I can find on this Crystal Cove, says it was created by Spanish conquistadors to protect what they thought was the fountain of youth. They landed here to collect supplies and then were planning on sailing back to Spain, but then a hurricane came and hit so they built the cave to protect their loot, a crystal fountain and other crystal pieces they collected.”

“That’s-that’s accurate.” Sebastian’s jaw dropped with astonishment, nodding slowly.  

“It's rumored to be worth over 10 million dollars.” Hannah continued as she blinked out of a dizzy spell.

Sebastian noticed that she was still shaking, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I'm fine just stood up too fast.” Hannah replied, before turning to Tammy.

“Gregorio you got anything on this ex of Clark’s?

“No nothing, I've got what might be a first name Adam, but I can't find anything else, Patton’s running one of his searches and is diving into her records. But I did find this, she's been making a lot of calls to various unknown numbers, Patton is looking at them but my guess is burners. She's also been making payments to some company called Fire Dive, and Wreckage, can't find anything on them, but look who owns it, David Finch.” Gregorio said.

“Okay maybe it's because I'm still new to New Orleans but who's David Finch?” Hannah asked.

Chris grabbed the remote and clicked it over “Only one of the biggest mob boss in the city, he has a finger in every pie, and nothing ever links back to him.”

“Alright, let’s deep dive the company and the employees, if we can. Sebastian I want you to try and narrow down the dust as much as you can, anything that will tells us where it might be from. Lasalle look into why Sims was wanting to find the crystal. Gregorio have you found anything on who Clark was in debt to?”

Tammy shook her head.

“You said that she had recently done several payments that didn't back up to her salary right? Let's look at why.” Hannah said as she leaned back in her chair.

As they hit yet another wall, Hannah still fighting to keep her eyes open, looked at her watch “Okay, I don't think we're going to get any further information tonight, let's all go home, and reconvene in the morning, hopefully Patton’s dives into the company and some of the phone scans will be done.” As she pushed up from her desk she felt the world spin and only her tight grip on the desk kept her from falling.

Seeing Tammy glance towards her she shook her head, she needed to be alone tonight. As she made it into her car, and pulled her phone to check to see if Naomi had texted her about her dance program she saw the date and the blood drained from her face.

Her symptoms, the nausea, the exhaustion, even the random bouts of hunger and the dizzy spells, and now the fact that she was late for the second time.

She carefully drove towards her apartment stopping only at the CVS down the street walking in and not looking at anyone she went to an aisle and picked up a single box, one she hadn't bought in almost 5 years checking out she paid in cash not wanting a record of this, finally arriving back in her apartment.

She dropped her bag and jacket over the table, clutching the box though the bag, heading towards to the bathroom. With a shaking hand she slid a single package out and took it.

Five minutes later, she flipped it over, not sure what she wanted the test to say.

But her heart sank just a little when she saw the screen. A pair of blue lines in it, confirming her suspicions that she was pregnant.  

[tammy-gregorio]

i could use a love song

sort of based on the maren morris song (LOVE HER). this ended a lot differently than i had planned, but i think i’m happy with it. i might take it down later, who knows. contains (some) spoilers for 5x11

The surprise on Tammy’s face was evident when she walked into the squad room and found Pride sitting at Hannah’s desk. It had been his before, but Tammy had gotten used to seeing Hannah there. In the back of her mind, she realized she was also disappointed to see Pride instead of Hannah. The two had gotten close over the months Hannah had been leading the team, and it didn’t hurt to have another woman on the team.

The words that left Tammy’s lips weren’t “You’re back!” but rather, “What happened to Hannah?” She was worried about the fact that the other woman had left without saying goodbye to anyone. One glance at the expression on Tammy’s face caused Pride to realize something he should have before. “She’s taking some time off to spend with her daughter and her husband.” Tammy’s face fell at the end of his statement, only confirming Pride’s theory. Tammy recognized his acknowledgment and quickly recovered, plastering a fake smile on her lips. “I’m glad. Hannah really missed Naomi; she always talks about her.” Tammy tried to fight the urge to ask about Ryan, but it was something she couldn’t help wondering about. “I thought she was divorced.” Pride leaned back in his seat, watching his agent’s reaction to his next statement. “Separated.” Tammy glanced around the squad room to confirm that they were alone before narrowing her eyes at Pride. “I know when I’m being profiled.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Before she has the chance to say anything else to Pride, Sebastian walks into the squad room. Tammy spares one last glance at Pride before walking to her desk to put her purse away. As soon as her purse is secured in the drawer of her desk, Tammy walked to the kitchen without having acknowledged Sebastian’s presence. He had been getting excited over Pride being back, Tammy wanted to let him have his moment.

Tammy poured herself a cup of coffee before setting the mug down on the countertop and running her hands through her hair with a sigh. She didn’t know where to go from here, she needed to clear her mind but she didn’t have the resources to do so. Normally, she would have a drink to take the edge off, but it was eight in the morning and drinking didn’t help her anymore. She couldn’t go for a drive, she had just arrived at work. Tammy scoffed when her next thought popped into her mind, I could use a love song. Tammy wanted a love song that would make her forget that she was stuck in a world that has always gone wrong for her.

Deciding she needed a break before she could get started on her day, the agent wandered outside to the courtyard, where she could drink her coffee in silence. Tammy closed her eyes as she tried to force her thoughts away, but in the end, she was truly powerless. Of course, she had fallen for a married woman, just another woman she couldn’t have. Tammy wished her luck was better, she wanted to find someone she could come home to. She had wasted so much of her life with Ethan, starting over was hard. Since she left Ethan, her love life had been practically non-existent, with the exception of Hannah Lee. Tammy had promised herself that she wouldn’t waste her time with something that wasn’t making her happy, but she started to wonder if she would ever find anything that made her happy.

Tammy had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Sebastian calling her name. When she finally opened her eyes and looked up, Sebastian was standing right beside her.

“Pride’s back,” Sebastian said, his voice full of hope. He, of course, didn’t know what was racing through Tammy’s mind at the moment.

“I know, baby,” Tammy whispered. “Hannah’s taking time to be with her daughter and her husband.” Tammy’s voice barely came out as a whisper toward the end, giving Sebastian a signal that she wasn’t too happy.

Sebastian sat across from Tammy, setting his own coffee mug on the table. “I thought she was divorced.”

Tammy bit back her immediate response, deciding to simply tell Sebastian the truth. “Apparently they’re separated. I just learned that ten minutes ago. She called him her ex-husband, yet Pride referred to him as her husband. I flirted with her, Sebastian. I don’t flirt with taken women. I feel dirty.”

Sebastian’s face fell at his best friend’s words. “Tammy, you didn’t know. That isn’t your fault, she made you think they were divorced.”

“I wouldn’t have had a chance with her anyway, she’s our boss,” Tammy shook her head. She rubbed her hands over her jeans and sighed. “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I fall for someone that I actually have a chance with? Eva went to prison and then witness protection. Brooklyn got kidnapped because of me. Hannah was my boss. I spent so much of my life hiding who I was and this is what happens when I finally come out. I don’t have anyone. My parents are dead, I don’t have any siblings, I don’t have a life outside of this job.”

“You have me,” Sebastian shook his head. “You have Chris, you have Dr. Wade, you have Patton. You have us. We’re your family, Tammy. And, you’ll find someone. She’s going to love you so much, I promise. She’ll be worth the wait and you’ll wonder why you ever stressed out about finding her.” He stood up and walked to the other side of the table where Tammy was sitting. He opened his arms to her and flashed a reassuring smile.

Tammy stood up and wrapped her arms around Sebastian, laying her head on his chest. “I really liked Hannah,” she whispered. “She’s amazing. She deserves to be happy and if that’s with her husband and daughter, then I can’t do anything about it.”

Sebastian rubbed Tammy’s back, nodding along to her words. He caught Pride’s eye and nodded at him, assuring him that everything was going to be okay. Sebastian would be there for Tammy, he would help her through anything. He knew she would do the same for him.

tags: @evazarovas @captain-dwayne-pride @stanathanxoox

[eddiestattoos]

Clois for the first and Lois for the second meme?

Ready for a novel?

Number 1

When did I start shipping them: pretty much immediately (whenever I started s4. It was sometime this spring)

Thoughts: love them. Can't not love them. Very worthwhile emotional rollercoaster

What makes me happy: many things. Many many things. But Lois' love for Clark and her helping him through all his superhero stuff

What makes me sad: their hesitancy to get together. The denial. The breaks. The end of prophecy

Going to skip the fanfic because I haven't had time to get to sv fics yet since finishing

Who I'd be comfortable with if not each other: Lois and Oliver. Even though I don't want to take him away from Chloe. Clark and Lana surprisingly enough. I've always loved them for some reason even through the extreme angst

Happily ever after: Clark needs children. He's too good with kids. They would be great parents

Big spoon little spoon: I feel like Lois would be little spoon. Get wrapped in the six and a half feet of handsome. And those arms

Favourite non sexual activity: they love working together. But Lois also loves helping clark with his other work

Number 2- Lois

How I feel: Lois freaking Lane. What isn't there to love? Badass, softy, all of it. Queen

All ships: Clark, and I did like Oliver

Non romantic otp: Chloe, Lana, Jimmy, also Oliver. Their friendship is everything

Unpopular opinion: Lowkey miss the blonde hair (I don't know if that's unpopular or not but it's all I got) (I do love brunette don't get me wrong)

One thing I wish happened: a better wedding? Even if just a flash forward to an actual ceremony (or semblance of one)

Otp: CLOIS

Crossover ship: a chat with @dobbyofearth tonight inspired me into a couple. Greg in csi fell for a femme fatale with similar qualities (obviously Lois isn't a killer but yeah) they'd be fun. And also Tammy Gregorio (ncis nola) I know she's canonically straight but a) Tammy's not and b) did you see Lois in combat? That girl can flirt both ways when she needs to and c) I don't know it just struck me and now I'm stuck with it

BUT I just came up with her and Lance Sweets (bones) and idk why but I love it

Headcanon fact: she's definitely second in command at watchtower, maybe even first. And her kids get lots of ice cream because how dare her deny them her fave thing

[justas-confused-asthenextperson]

I Can’t Lose You Pt.1

Request- “can i request a dwayne pride x reader mission gone wrong and he loses his cool and gets really protective and he has to save her and he makes it up to her after everything or some thing” - @roseuchiha69

Pairing: Dwayne Pride x Reader

Word Count: 539

Warnings: Angst, mentions of being shot

The team was on a mission to track down the suspect in their latest case, the murder of Admiral Jeremy Crawford. The suspect, Lainey Christian, was tracked down to an abandoned warehouse by the French Quarter. Going into this everyone thought it would be an easy grab, but it was the complete opposite. The team cleared the building and met back out front to regroup. 

“Looks like we are back to square one then,” You say with a sigh. 

“I don’t understand, Patton said her phone pinged to here and she was seen on the traffic cams,” Pride replied, pacing around. “LaSalle, call Patton and see if you can get an update.” 

“Yes sir, King,” Christopher says grabbing his phone. 

“EVERYONE DOWN!” Pride yells, tackling you to the ground. Not even a second later a gunshot rings out. 

“Rooftop across the street left side,” Pride says getting up to move to behind a vehicle for cover before yelling, “Gregorio call for back up.” 

“I’m running after,” LaSalle states before taking off. 

“Me too,” Gregorio says, taking off behind Christopher. With no one talking Pride realizes that you are still lying on the ground while holding your side and grunting. He rushes over to make sure you are okay. 

“Hey, hey let me see Y/N.” Pride says kneeling down next to you. 

“I’m fine...I think the vest took the bullet,” You groan, still in pain from the impact of the bullet hitting the vest. 

“Backup should be here any minute and then I’ll get you back to the office,” Pride states, looking over to where LaSalle and Tammy are running back over. 

“Wooh, Y/N are you okay? What happened?” Gregorio asks running over to you.

“I took a hit but I’m fine.” You respond giving her a weak smile. “Did you get the person who shot at us?” You ask, slowing getting up off the ground. 

“They got away before we could get an eye on them, but we’ll track ‘em down don’t you worry Y/N,” Christopher replies placing his hands on his hips. 

“You two stay here and help process the scene, I’m gonna take Y/N back to the squad room.” Pride states before helping you to the car. 

It was only about a ten-minute drive back to the squad room from where the abandoned warehouse is located. The drive back was silent with Pride glancing over at you every couple minutes making sure you were okay. Once you arrived you went straight to the kitchen to grab ice. 

"Here I'll get you a bag of ice. Go upstairs and lay down," Pride says walking in grabbing a bag to put the ice in.

"No, I'm fine really. I wanna get back to work," You protest, taking your vest off.

"Y/N you aren't fine. You almost got shot and your bruise has to be pretty bad. Please, take the rest of the day off," he argues back.

"No, I wanna get the guy that almost killed me." You state firmly. You were getting upset at Pride and didn't wanna waste any more time not finding the person that could've killed you.

"I'm not gonna allow it, end of the discussion," King says reaching for the bottle of pain meds. 

A/N - I hope y’all enjoyed! This is my first fic over 500 words and a part 2 is coming by next Friday. As always feedback is highly appreciated. 

[i-am-a-stupid-robot]

Live to Die Another Day | Gregorio & LaSalle Oneshot

Warnings | None

Rating | K+

Genres | Angst, H/C, Friendship, Fluff

Characters | Tammy Gregorio, Christopher LaSalle

Pairings | Tammy Gregorio & Christopher LaSalle (Pals. Unless you do le squinty squint.)

Word Count | 1K+

Summary: Tammy struggles to process the events of Acceptable Loss (4x05). Good thing she’s not alone.

"Gregorio."

Gregorio groaned internally as she dropped a bag of tea into her mug.

"Gregorio." LaSalle's voice was louder, more insistent this time.

"What?" she snapped, watching the color from the teabag bleed into the hot water as she dunked it again. He came to a halt behind her and she reached for creamer she never used as an excuse to fully turn her back.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on with you?"

Gregorio kept her voice casual. "Nothing's going on with me."

"Uh-huh. Come on, you've been avoiding me all day—yesterday, too."

"You're imagining things, LaSalle."

"Gregorio. Come on, this is ridiculous. Did I say something? If I've offended you somehow, I'd like to know about it so I can make it right."

A lump burned its way up her throat and she clenched her jaw. Not now. She swallowed hard before she replied, schooling her voice to remain steady and light. "What's the matter, you got a guilty conscience or something?"

Suddenly, his hand was on her arm, spinning her around to face him. The frustrated determination in his eyes was buried in a flood of concern when he saw the tears in hers. "Gregorio! What's wrong?"

Her chin trembled. Dang it. "Listen, I know what this looks like, but I'm okay."

"Gregorio…"

"Leave it alone, LaSalle," she growled, shoving him back a step.

He released her arm, but his eyes never left hers. "What's going on?"

She shook her head and looked away, furiously attempting to blink back the confounded wetness trying to escape her eyes.

"Gregorio—"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Shush. I'm gonna tell you, I just—mm." If I talk now I'm gonna be crying all over you in about half a second. She studied her feet, chewing the inside of her cheek.

He waited.

When she finally trusted herself enough to speak, her voice was low and shaky, still far to close to tears for her comfort. "I thought we'd lost you." There was a scuff on her boot. She hadn't noticed it before.

She knelt on the rough cement floor, the toes of her boots scraping against the pavement as she dropped to her knees and joined Pride at LaSalle's side.

"The other day...when we found you, and you didn't have a pulse? I thought you were gone." She wrestled her eyes up to look at his face.

His frown deepened in confusion, an incredulous smile starting to tug at his lips. "Gregorio, I'm fine—"

Anger flared in her gut and she cut him off. "Four minutes."

"What?"

"You were gone for four minutes, LaSalle. That we know of." There was no telling how long it had been between their finding him and Chloe leaving him for dead. She crossed her arms, her voice rising. "I gave you CPR! You wouldn't move, wouldn't wake up, wouldn't breathe."

She almost hadn't believed Percy before, but now Pride was doing chest compressions and pleading with LaSalle to wake up and Percy was speaking frantically into her phone and LaSalle just lay there, still, too still to be the animated man she knew and far too still to be yet among the living.

LaSalle was silent. She was glad.

"Pride...I know it messed him up, but I think somehow he knew. He knew you were gonna be okay, that we would get you back. But I—" her voice cracked, "—there was this lead in my gut, you know?" She scrubbed a hand under her eyes, the tears scalding her skin. "I didn't know four minutes could take so long."

Her hands on his chest, pumping—One. Two. Three. Four—trying to do the work his heart should be doing as bone and cartilage ground and popped beneath her palm—Seven. Eight. Nine—Percy pacing in the background—Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen—his head lolling in time with her efforts—Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty...

She ran a hand over her mouth and looked LaSalle in the eye for the first time since he'd walked into the room. "So, yeah. To answer your questions, I'm a little messed up right now. I'm mad. I'm mad at Chloe for almost taking my friend away. I'm mad at myself for giving up on you so easily." She scoffed. "I'm even mad at you for scaring me like that." She wasn't sure when her voice had gotten this loud, or when she had stopped fighting the stream of tears that was now flowing freely down her face. A sob bubbled free. "You were dead, LaSalle."

She didn't fight his grip on her arm this time, as he pulled her into a hug and held her tight. Another sob escaped as she returned his embrace, drinking in the heartbeat that thumped firm and steady beneath her ear.

His eyes flew open and he shot upright and then everyone was talking at once, touching him, watching his face twist with fear and confusion and pain and life. Pride's arms were suddenly wound around his shoulders, keeping him upright as Percy grabbed for his flailing hands and Gregorio thrust her hand against his chest, over his heart. The beat was too fast, erratic and thready, but it was there.

"But I'm not dead. Thanks in large part to you, I'm right here and I'm just fine."

They stood that way for a while, Gregorio's sobs fading to hiccups and the tears beginning to dry. LaSalle squeezed her a little tighter. "I owe you one, Tammy."

She snuffled and pulled away, giving his chest a brisk pat as her crusty exoskeleton slipped back into place. "Yeah, you do. And you can repay me by making sure I never have to do that again."

His amused smirk faded to gravity as he looked at her. "You know I can't promise that any more than you can."

"Yeah, well...do your best, yeah?"

"You got it." He folded her back into his embrace and she returned it tightly.

“Oh—and LaSalle?" Her voice was muffled in his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"You tell anyone about this, I'm gonna take you out and finish what Chloe started, you got me?"

A laugh rumbled beneath her ear. "Copy that."

[dwaynepride]

this is a masterlist for all my TAMMY GREGORIO x READER fics from NCIS: NEW ORLEANS. it will be updated with each new fic i post. this masterlist may not contain any headcanons or drabbles i’ve posted. for those, you might want to search through the tag itself.

this list contains nsfw stories. do not interact with those fics if you’re under 18.

IMAGINES

fluff

surprise

introductions

feeling sentimental

creaking

snooze

the sounds of laughter

searching for something sweet

angst

what’s your type?

olive branch

smut

getting a little rough 

it’s this tongue of mine

ONESHOTS

angst

silence broke the levees - when tammy is stabbed and rushed into surgery, reader tries to be strong in the wake of frayed nerves and a quiet hospital room. (1,715 words)

[imaginenola]

Young and Beautiful

Dwayne Pride x reader

Words: 2,154

Warnings: angst, pure sadness

Notes: loosely based on the song Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey. this is the first imagine I’ve ever written so it might not be the best. also big thank you to @dwaynepride for helping me make this account & story a reality! thanks for believing in me (: also the spaces might be a little wonky, sorry! I worked really hard on this so please don’t steal it, all work is my own. enjoy!!

I’ve seen the world, done it all

Had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now

When you interviewed for a job at NCIS in New Orleans, you were a young and eager cop. Only a few years out of the academy, you had made more cases than most could make in their entire career. Your boss and partner both pushed you to apply after you expressed interest in NCIS. A few days after your interview, you received a call from none other than Dwayne Pride. You had been chosen for his team.

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild

The crazy days, city lights

The way you’d play with me like a child

It began with slight flirting, just for fun. You never meant to get involved with your boss, but things soon escalated. You were both experts at keeping your work and personal lives separate. You two weren’t partners anyway, so for the most part, it was easy to not let feelings get in the way of doing your jobs.

A few months in, Pride asked you out for drinks after work. The two of you made your way to a jazz club, where you drank and danced and drank some more. Pride twirled you around and around until you had no memories of what happened that night. The next morning, you woke up naked in your boss’s bed.

Will you still love me

When I’m no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I’ve got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will

I know that you will

Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

Six months after that night, and you were still going steady with Pride. He was the perfect gentleman, and working together had only brought the two of you closer. You were only a few years older than his daughter, but he always made sure you knew that age wasn’t a problem between the two of you.

Your partner, Tammy Gregorio, kept telling you she ‘sensed’ that Pride was going to propose soon, but you weren’t so sure. Of course you had a strong bond and everyone believed you were a match made in heaven, but it made you nervous to think that you might have to leave the team. Sure, two co-workers dating could be overlooked, but married co-workers? Especially between an agent and their superior? You didn’t think so.

I’ve seen the world, lit it up

As my stage now

Channeling angels in a new age now

Hot summer days, rock and roll

The way you play for me at your show

And all the ways, I got to know

Your pretty face and electric soul

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and you were out on a walk around New Orleans. You barely ever got a day off, but you made sure to enjoy it while you could. All of a sudden, you were being pushed into a black SUV, door locking behind you. You pulled your gun out of your holster until you recognized your captor: FBI Agent Isler.

“What do you want, Isler?” You asked, remaining calm and collected. You knew this man well, and you knew whatever it was he needed help with had to be important. Isler never dropped by just to say hello.

“Hello, Agent (y/l/n). The FBI needs your help on an undercover mission in Los Angeles. Once we get to the motel, I’ll give you the case file. It’s a highly classified operation involving corrupt Naval officers and a drug trafficking ring.” Isler said, shifting the car into drive. “Wait! Isler, I didn’t agree to this. Stop the car, now,” you demanded.

“I’m sorry, Agent (y/l/n), but you don’t really have a choice. This is a joint investigation between the FBI and NCIS, and you were picked by the big boys. I’m the only person in Louisiana who knows about this, and we’re keeping it that way.” You rode the rest of the drive in silence, until Isler parked in front of a decrepit motel on the outskirts of the city. The motel room was stale and unwashed, the air thick with swamp water.

“We’ll be staying here for a couple of days to prepare you for your mission. Once you step off that plane in Los Angeles, your undercover identity will be all you know. You will eat, sleep, and breathe this mission from start to finish, Agent (y/l/n).”

“How long do you think I’ll be gone?” You asked, afraid of the answer. Isler looked at the ground for a moment, then passed you a box of hair dye. Black. The girl on the picture seemed happy with her hair color, but you weren’t so sure.

Will you still love me

When I’m no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I’ve got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will

I know that you will

Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

“Hard to tell. Could just be a few months. Eight, maybe. Possibly a few years. Hopefully nothing more than five, six.” Five years? Six? You would be in your thirties by then. How different would things be? Pride might find someone else. Forget about you. The whole team would probably forget about you, by then.

“There’s one other thing,” Isler trails, “by now, your family and friends will be receiving the news of your gruesome death.”

-

Today was your last day in New Orleans, and you didn’t know for how long. After three days stuck in a hotel room with Raymond Isler, memorizing your new persona (Heather Watson from Montana, by the way), you were going stir-crazy. That was how you convinced him to let you attend your funeral. He thought you were crazy, you knew you were crazy, but Isler did feel bad. He knew about you and Pride’s relationship, and since he couldn’t give you Pride, the least he could do was give you closure.

The balcony of St. Patrick’s had been closed off due to unstable ground, but you arrived early in order to slip up to the balcony, lay on your stomach, and peer through the small slit under the bench. To your surprise, everyone you had ever worked with at NOPD and more had arrived. Friends from the academy flew in, and family members you hadn’t seen in years were there. You felt so, so horrible for tricking them like this. For this hole you had gotten into and you probably wouldn’t ever get out of. Six years undercover, living and breathing the life of someone you weren’t? You’d rather die, maybe. Rather die as yourself than live as Heather Watson. You only wished you could’ve said goodbye.

Dear lord, when I get to heaven

Please let me bring my man

When he comes tell me that you’ll let him in

Father tell me if you can

All that grace, all that body

All that face, makes me wanna party

He’s my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

You knew it was all over for you when Pride arose from his seat, wearing his black suit. You could see the tissue peeking out from his pocket, full of tears he cried for you. “(y/n) (y/l/n) was the strongest, most determined, an’ most loving human I have ever known. I knew she was the one from the day I laid eyes on her. I hope she knew how much I loved ‘er, and how much all of us at NCIS appreciated her. She’s always been a light-” Dwayne’s voice broke. The occasional tear spilled down his cheek. You could hear the desperation caught in his throat, the need to wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But as far as he knew, you would be six feet under in a few hours. A closed casket for the horrific boating accident you died in. Your limp body caught in the blades. They could barely piece your limbs back together.

“-I was plannin’ on proposing to her at dinner Sunday night. I had this diamond ring picked out, and now it’s just sittin’ in the box. I wished I could’ve said somethin’, wished I coulda saved her. She- she was tha love of my life, and I know she’d want us to remember her as a dedicated cop and a-a beautiful young woman who was gone- gone too-” Pride choked out, sobs overtaking his body. You could feel your heart breaking into microscopic pieces as Chris got up from his seat and assisted Dwayne. They sat down and Chris gave Pride’s shoulder a quick squeeze in solidarity. The rest of your team respectfully placed a hand on Dwayne’s back for his courage in facing your memory, your mourners. Your family, his future family. If only it hadn’t been for this goddamn mission.

Tears rolled down your face. Oh, how you missed the comfort of Dwayne’s arms wrapped around you when things got tough, when you became sad and he was the only one who could help. Now, even less than a hundred feet apart, it felt like there were planets between you. He was going to propose? Tammy had been right all along.

-

Your silent sobs combined with your uncomfortably warm outfit and position in the hot balcony suddenly prompted your exit. It was easy to slip out of the church unnoticed as your sibling gave a heartwarming speech about your childhood. Isler was sitting in his car in the parking lot, working on his computer, when you knocked on the window. He unlocked the door and let you in. “How was it?” He asked without looking up. “I shouldn’t have gone. Big mistake. Pride was supposed to propose to me that night. This is sick, Isler. Everyone thinks I’m dead. I might as well be, for what it’s worth,” you fumed, tears clouding your vision. You weren’t thinking straight.

“We’re going to have to drive to a more concealed position. I just have to get a few more papers emailed from HQ and we’ll be all set to head back to the motel. From there, I’ll drive you to MSY and you’ll get on your flight. Then, it’ll be out of my hands and into the hands of your new FBI case agent.”

-

You sat in the parking lot of an abandoned building. You knew it was near NCIS, which made it near Pride’s bar, which was where your reception was going to be held. The place you once dreamed of marrying Pride in, dancing to the jazz music as newlyweds. Now, it would never happen. You weren’t dumb; you knew with an undercover operation this long, it was likely someone would find out your secret and brutally murder you. As long as you got intel, that was all that mattered. No one cared if you were collateral damage.

Before either of you knew it, you were reaching across Isler at the speed of light and unlocking the passenger door. “(Y/n), wait!” Isler yelled, chasing you as you ran away from his car. Something told him where you would be heading.

Will you still love me

When I’m no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I’ve got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will

You knew the song, one of your favorites. It reminded you of your and Pride’s whirlwind relationship, of the appeal and the secrecy, the pure love and affection. Percy was singing, the only flaw in her beautiful voice being the rawness in her throat from crying. Pride was next to her on the piano, playing along what he knew from when you would sing with him. When you didn’t have a care in the world, when it was you and Dwayne and no one else. Nothing standing between your love for each other.

Suddenly, the music stops and people crowd around Pride’s piano. Laurel, your co-workers new and old, and your family stood behind Dwayne as he picked up his glass from the top of the piano, raising it as far as his arm could extend. You couldn’t see him, but you heard his voice ring out, “a toast to (y/n), tha best cop I’ve ever known. wherever you are, babe, I hope you’re raisin’ some hell.” to which everyone joined in, “cheers!” Tears fell down your face as you watched as Pride began your favorite song once again, reminding you how you fell in love with the man with an electric soul.

Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

Will you still love me when I’m not young and beautiful?

[moonlight-breeze-44]

Gay Best Friend(s)

Alternate title: Non-binary Sebastian and supportive best friend Tammy. Basically, Sebastian comes out and the gays bond over tea, hugs, and illegal amounts of platonic hand-holding.

Inspired by a line that Sebastian says in Season 4, Episode 9: “Yeah, and I can’t pull off a high-heeled boot, apparently.” In which I wanted to write Sebastian in high-heeled boots, and somehow this happened.

Pairings: None

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None

Read on AO3

“Tammy, can I talk to you about something?”

Gregorio looked up from the book that was perched on her lap to meet Sebastian’s nervous gaze. Silhouetted in the doorway, he was clad in old sweatpants and a Star Wars t-shirt, an outfit that she knew was reserved for bad days and the aftermath of hard cases. He looked almost queasy as he waited for her response. Narrowing her eyes at him, she noticed that he was fidgeting with his hands, looking away from her and then back again a few seconds later. Despite his anxious nature, Tammy didn’t think she’d ever seen Sebastian so scared. Though she didn’t know what, it was obvious from his behavior that something was wrong.

Immediately worried, Tammy scooted over to make room for him on the bed and patted the space next to her. “Yeah, of course, baby. What’s up?”

Sebastian padded towards the bed on unsteady feet, shutting the door as he went. Nervous energy was still bleeding from him with every step he took, and Tammy’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to profile him, reading what she could from his body language in some attempt to see what was going on. She had no idea what could be upsetting him this much, and the cluelessness about what her best friend was going through was disconcerting.

When he reached the bed, Sebastian crawled under the covers and, as she expected, stole a large part of her blanket to cover himself all the way up to his shoulders. Looking over at her, he seemed to be trying to gather his courage, so Tammy waited, giving him a gentle, encouraging smile to show that, no matter what, she would support him.

Eventually, avoiding her gaze, he asked in a quiet voice that she rarely heard him use, “I, um…y-you know a lot about the LGBTQ community, right?”

“LGBTQIA+,” Tammy corrected gently, and shifted closer to him, placing a bookmark in her novel so she could give him her full attention. “I do, though I’m not an expert on everything. Why do you ask?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. His breathing was erratic and a little too fast, so Tammy reached for one of his hands, squeezing his fingers gently. She didn’t want him to get too worked up trying to tell her whatever it was that was bothering him.

“I-I just had some questions,” Sebastian rushed out. “About some…stuff.” Tammy gave his hand another supportive squeeze, and this time, he weakly returned it.

“Well, I’ll do my best to answer them,” she promised, “and if you have any questions that I can’t answer, I can help you do some research about them too.”

“Thanks, Tammy,” Sebastian breathed, his shoulders slumping a little as some of the tension bled out of him at her response. She gave him a warm smile and rubbed slow, comforting circles into his palm.

“Of course, baby. You know I’m always here for you.”

Sebastian smiled, fleeting but genuine, and she nudged his shoulder gently. “Ask away, alright?”

He nodded, and took another deep breath, giving Tammy’s fingers a tight squeeze to gather the courage to say more. She let him, waiting patiently. She knew he would speak when he was ready.

“Okay, uh, you know I’m bi, right?” Tammy nodded, barely suppressing an amused smile and eyebrow raise; as if she could forget. Sebastian was the first person on the team that she had come out to, after he saw a tiny lesbian pride pin on her bag, conspicuously placed so as not to draw attention from the rest of her team, and excitedly told her that he was bi and knew of a great gay bar in town.

It was, by far, one of her best coming out stories.

“I was just wondering if, like, someone can be bi, and maybe have…other things going on, too?”

“You’re going to have to give me more than just ‘other things’ if you want me to answer that for you, baby,” Tammy said, resisting the urge to laugh. This was a serious moment.

“Right, sorry,” he said, wincing, and she patted his knee with her free hand, a silent You’re okay, go on. “Um, I guess I just mean…so like, someone can be bi or gay, or trans. Is there, like…more than that, too? More-More labels? Like, identities? And people can be multiple things at the same time?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Tammy answered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “People can be gay or bi or pan or whatever and have other labels, too. You can be trans and gay, or trans and asexual and biromantic. You can also be a lot of different labels. You can be non-binary, genderfluid, agender, a bunch of different things under the trans umbrella. There’s a ton of identities out there. If you feel it, there’s probably a word for it.” She bumped his shoulder playfully, earning herself a weak smile in return.

“Can you tell me more about some of those gender identities you mentioned?” Sebastion asked, his voice so quiet that she almost didn’t hear him at first. He was fiddling with her fingers in his lap now, and Tammy could see the terrified look on his face and it all made sense. She squeezed his hand once more, trying to communicate without words that she was there for him while he discovered what more there was to his identity.

“I can,” she told him, reaching out with her free hand to rub his shoulder comfortingly. “So, non-binary is a label that people use when they don’t feel like a man or a woman. Instead they usually feel like something in between or entirely separate, like a third gender that’s not either. Genderfluid is typically when someone’s gender identity fluctuates. They can identify as female, male, or other genders at different times depending on how they feel. Agender is another gender identity that exists outside of the binary; not male or female, but something else entirely. There’s a lot more labels than that, too, and people are coining new ones for themselves all the time.” She gave him what she hoped was a supportive smile. “Like I said, if you feel it, there’s probably a word for it.”

“And-And it’s okay to feel it?” His voice was impossibly small, and broke on the last syllable.

Tammy felt her heart break at Sebastian’s words, and she reached over to pull him into a tight hug, tucking her head against his collarbone. “Of course it is, baby. It’s okay to feel and be anything, okay? It’s right, it’s always right. You’re good and perfect just the way you are. I promise.”

She felt more than heard Sebastian mumble, “Thank you,” into her hair, his chest heaving with relief at having allowed himself to ask the question he really wanted to. She could understand the feeling. When she felt a few tears drip onto the neck of her t-shirt, Tammy held him tighter, rubbing his back comfortingly and shushing him as best she could.

“You’re okay,” she promised him. “I’ve got you.” At her words, he began to cry even harder, and she whispered, “You’re safe” and “Let it out” while he sobbed into her shoulder. She felt awful that she hadn’t been able to tell he was struggling with this, but she knew she was proud of him for opening up to someone, and even more proud that it had been her. Sebastian was her best friend, and he’d helped her through more hard times than she could count. It was the least she could do to return the favor.

“S-Sorry,” Sebastian mumbled after a few minutes, when his tears began to slow to a trickle. He was trembling in her arms, and Tammy knew her own eyes were a little wet at seeing him in so much pain. She ran her fingers through the coarse hair at the nape of his neck and shushed him gently.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” she told him. “Come on, baby. You’re my best friend. I’m always here for you.”

Sebastian nodded into her neck, and she gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, giving him enough space to wipe his eyes and recover from the crying spell. “Do you want some tea?” she suggested, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I can make some and we can talk more in there, if you want.”

“That sounds nice,” Sebastian said, offering her a faint smile. “Thanks, Tammy.”

“Of course,” she replied immediately. “Come on. Let’s get you some tea and something to eat.” She reached for his hand and tugged him off the bed with her, and together they headed towards the kitchen.

“So, how long have you been thinking about this?” Tammy asked once Sebastian was settled at the counter on one of their barstools. She opened the cabinet and grabbed a box of tea and some hot chocolate mix while she talked. Without asking, she chose chamomile for Sebastian, and started the kettle boiling while she grabbed his favourite cup from the dishwasher.

“A few months,” Sebastian admitted, playing with his hands where they rested on the countertop. “I-I didn’t really want to, at first. I didn’t want to consider I wasn’t…” he trailed off, clearly still anxious, “...completely a man.”

“I understand,” Gregorio said, nodding at Sebastian’s words. “It’s a lot to realise you’re trans or non-binary or anything else. It took me forever to accept that I was gay, and even longer after that to start dating women and being proud of who I was.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian breathed, his shoulders slumping a little. He was relaxing, bit by bit, the longer they talked about it, which was what Tammy had hoped would happen. The teakettle whistled on the stove, and she turned and began pouring the boiling water into Sebastian’s cup to let the tea steep.

Accepting the cup from Tammy and wrapping his hands around it, Sebastian continued, “It’s just, you know, a lot of change. My mom is fine with me being bi, and she’s pretty supportive, but I don’t know how she’d feel about this, and it-it’s not like I’ve ever talked about this stuff with any of the others before. Who knows what they’d think, you know?”

“I do,” Tammy confirmed as she began the preparations for her hot chocolate. “It’s always scary trying to figure out how to come out, and when, and to who…” She shook her head. “I was terrified of telling everyone on the team, at first.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, and he gave her an incredulous look. “Wait, really? You always seemed so chill about it. I mean, you literally came out to LaSalle by telling him if he didn’t ask out the pretty woman you guys were talking to, you would.”

Tammy chuckled, reaching for her favorite mug and a spoon. “That’s true, but it was all an act. You guys scared me so bad at first, especially LaSalle.”

Sebastian smiled, lifting his head to meet her gaze more steadily now. “I bet I was the least of your worries.”

“Admittedly, I wasn’t exactly sweatin’ it with you, baby,” Tammy replied, gesturing to the action figures perched on a shelf in the living room and the bisexual pride flag that hung on the wall. Sebastian laughed, and the sound was like music to Tammy’s ears. Things were getting better.

They were quiet for a few minutes, as Tammy hummed to the tune of the jazz band playing on the street below, and Sebastian seemed lost in his own thoughts, fidgeting with his hands on the bar.

“Here,” Tammy said, breaking the silence, and tossed him a fidget toy from one of their many stashes hidden all over the house. Considering they were both neurodivergent, albeit in different ways, it made sense that their home was filled with boxes or miscellaneous piles of fidget toys in odd places. This particular stash was stuffed inside one of the kitchen drawers, where she kept all of the cookbooks that she bought but never used.

“Thanks,” Sebastian sighed, picking up the tangle and beginning to wrap his fingers around it. “Sorry I’m such a mess tonight, Tam. It’s just…” He shook his head, trailing off.

“It’s okay,” Tammy reassured him, checking the tea to see that it was done steeping. She reached into his cup and pulled the tea bag out, throwing it in the trash while she talked. “I get it. Figuring out who you are is hard. Coming out to someone is hard. You’re doing great, baby.” She tapped the rim of his cup and raised an expectant eyebrow at him. “Drink.”

Sebastian did, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a few sips of the warm tea. She watched as he slumped in his seat, relaxing even more from the hot drink. She smiled to herself, triumphant, and moved to take the whistling kettle off the burner so she could pour hot water into her own mug.

“When you’re ready,” she said, emphasizing her words so he wouldn’t start to panic again, “We can look up some stuff for you, and try out a few new things to see what works best.” She finished pouring the boiling water into her cup and emptied the kettle, placing it back on the stove on an unused burner. Plunking her spoon into the mug and beginning to stir, she let the quiet clinking sounds and the sight of Sebastian serenely drinking his tea guide her on the best words to say next.

“I’m not sure what label you’re leaning towards right now, and if you don’t know, that’s completely okay. There’s no rush. If you never know, even, that’s okay too. But when you’re ready, and if it sounds good to you, I have some makeup that you could try putting on. I’ll give you a few pointers.” She looked over at Sebastian for a response, and was reassured to see him grinning back at her, obviously delighted at the idea.

“We can also go shopping – it doesn’t have to be at the department store, if you think you’d be more comfortable shopping online. But we can look at some more feminine clothing for you, and if there’s anything you like, you can keep it in mind for the future. You’re welcome to try on any of my stuff, though I’m not much of a girly-girl.” She smiled at her best friend and was relieved to see Sebastian in the beginning stages of a laugh, not looking overwhelmed or panicked in the slightest. Good.

“Thanks, Tammy,” Sebastian said, a grateful smile blooming on his face. He took another drink of his tea before continuing, “I – uh – I was thinking non-binary sounded kind of cool, actually. As a label for me. And maybe…he/they pronouns?”

“Awesome,” Tammy replied, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Non-binary is very cool, Sebastian. So is he/they. I’ll start calling you by them whenever we’re around the house from now on.” She leaned over the bar to give him a high-five, and he slapped her hand with more gusto than she’d seen in a few weeks, at least. Her palm stung afterwards, but it was worth it.

“Hey,” Tammy said, her tone becoming serious, “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” She propped herself up on her elbows and took one of his hands, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. “I know it takes a lot of courage to come out, even to just one person. Even to your best friend. You did great, baby.”

Sebastian’s eyes filled with tears once more, but this time, he was smiling as they slid down his cheeks, and he didn’t try to hide them from Tammy. “Thank you. You-You really have no idea what that means to me.”

“I think I do, actually,” Tammy replied, her voice soft. “We’re both gay, remember? Even if it’s not the same thing, it’s similar enough, I’ll bet.” She raised her cup in the air to clink against Sebastian’s in an informal toast, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Based on the grin they gave her as he returned the toast, it worked.

“Technically, I’m half gay,” Sebastian informed her after they’d both taken a drink, and Tammy threw her head back in a long, loud laugh.

“Of course that’s the part you would focus on,” she said, smiling fondly at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot,” Sebastian replied, without missing a beat.

“Yeah, you are,” Tammy said, her voice turning soft and affectionate. “Forever and always, baby.” She tapped her index finger against the mug she was using, a custom piece that Sebastian had made for her, upon which the words Best Friends Forever! To my BFF, Tammy were scrawled in Sebastian’s messy handwriting.

With that, Tammy was rounding the corner of the bar and drawing Sebastian into another warm embrace. She felt them relax fully in her arms, and she gave him a tight, reassuring squeeze to let them know he wasn’t alone. No matter what happened, she would always have his back.

“Love you, Tam,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck. “Thanks for being, well, you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Tammy replied, “and there’s no need to thank me for that. I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

“Good,” Sebastian said, burying his face in her shoulder. “Don’t.”

Tammy chuckled and ran a hand through their hair once again. “I won’t, I promise.” She pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, and said, “Just as long as you promise me you won’t, either.”

Sebastian smiled, and said, “I promise.”

“Good.”

They stood together for a few more minutes, locked in a warm embrace, before Sebastian pulled away, giving her one last squeeze and reaching for his discarded tea mug. Tammy rounded the counter to collect hers, as well, and together they moved into the living room, placing their cups on the coffee table and collapsing onto the sofa.

“Hey, uh, I’m still not sure when this will happen yet, but w-when I do tell the others, will you come with me?” Sebastian asked, looking up at Tammy hopefully from their position next to her on the couch. He was slumped over, their head resting on Tammy’s shoulder, and she couldn’t help but smile at the trust he placed in her.

“Of course I will,” Tammy said, reaching over to take their hand once more. “Whatever you need, baby, I’m here. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian breathed, and he closed his eyes, obviously exhausted from their talk and the emotional upheaval of coming out to her. Tammy wrapped an arm around their shoulders, encouraging them to rest even more of his weight on her, and rubbed his upper arm comfortingly.

“Always,” she said, and with that, Sebastian allowed himself to drift off into sleep, settled in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, he would always have his best friend by his side to support him.

[cinnikiroll]

love letters and coffee stains

Summary: Hannah thought she'd be without a soulmate for her whole life. But then she noticed the coffee stain on Tammy's shirt.

Word Count: 1,728 words

If you like this fic, please do check out my other fanfics on AO3 under the username cinnikiroll. Here is a link to my profile, where I have fics from other fandoms for your viewing pleasure!

As the raindrops fell, beating a melancholy melody on the windowpane, Hannah Khoury awoke from a restless sleep.

It was still early. She didn't have to be at work for several hours, so she had time to relax before throwing herself into the stressful life of a NCIS agent. After changing into her work clothes and making a warm cup of coffee, she sat outside on her porch, which was protected from rain by an eave that jutted out over it.

Even on this miserable rainy day, New Orleans was bustling with people. Almost all of them were holding hands, sporting matching outfits or tattoos or other signs that they were soulmates, and happy ones at that.

Hannah looked down at her slender arm sadly. Ever since childhood, she had hoped to see a tattoo appear one day of a name, a promise that she did indeed have a soulmate and wasn't destined to be alone all her life.

But fate was cruel, and to this day, no tattoo had appeared.

Looking out at the happy couples surrounding her, she felt a bitter feeling arise in her chest, a mix of jealousy and hatred. Her hands trembled as she tried to control it, and her shaking hands inadvertently led to her coffee spilling all over her clean work shirt.

"Oh no! That was my last clean shirt!"

She cried out, trying frantically to clean the hot liquid off of her clothes.

It was too late, though, and a huge ugly stain ended up spreading across her chest. Looking down at the stain just exacerbated her feelings of bitterness, and she cursed in a soft voice, pouring the rest of her coffee- it was mostly grains anyway, all the good stuff had been spilled on her shirt- into the sink.

There were windows wherever she looked, exposing her to the omnipresent joy and mirth that existed in the outside world, even on such a miserable day. Staring out of the window above her sink, Hannah dreamed of a day where she didn't have to wake up in her bed alone, where she had someone to brighten her day. Woman, man, she didn't care. She just needed a companion, before her whole life became colorless and hopeless.

Her phone rang out with an alarm, shocking her out of her sorrowful reverie. It was already time to get to work? How was that possible? Had she really been daydreaming that long?

Turning her back to the city shrouded by gray clouds that were constantly diminishing in mass, her body silhouetted by the occasional shaft of sunlight piercing through the darkness, Hannah sluggishly moved to get her NCIS raincoat from her closet. An unremarkable gray umbrella rested against the back wall, and she picked that up too, just in case any of her coworkers needed shelter from the torrential downpour.

I'm so kind to everyone, yet I still have not found anyone to love me...

She sighed deeply, zipping up her raincoat and going out into the world that was slowly becoming more monochrome every day.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The drive to NCIS headquarters was uneventful as always. Couple after couple passed by, their visages blurred by the rain constantly dropping down on Hannah's windows and windshield.

Her hands were tense, knuckles white on the steering wheel as she cautiously drove below the speed limit. As much as she viewed her life as worthless without a soulmate, she wasn't willing to drive the speed limit or above in this weather. She didn't want to die- at least, not in such a horrible way.

As she neared the headquarters, she noticed her boss, Dwayne Pride, and his wife, Rita Devereaux, standing out in the rain. She was holding an umbrella over him as he fetched a bag from his car of what looked like beignets from Desiree's Beignets packed neatly into elegant little boxes. When their eyes met, he locked lips with her, and she dropped the umbrella in shock, trapping them in the rain.

Hannah's lip reading skills were consummate, and she easily determined exactly what the couple, who were obviously soulmates, were saying.

I'm sorry!

Rita exclaimed, hastily picking up the umbrella from the ground and covering her rather wet and flustered husband with it once again.

Dwayne laughed, not at all upset by the rain's sudden incursion on their intimate moment, and leaned close to kiss his wife on the cheek lightly.

Nothin' to worry about, darlin'. I personally think a little sprinkling of rain makes me look all the more attractive... not to mention you as well.

Rita's cheeks turned a beautiful, delicate pink with a blush at her husband's words, and Hannah looked away huffily.

She didn't want to torture herself by looking at what she could never have any longer. Her heart heavy with sorrow, she parked her car outside NCIS headquarters and entered, not even bothering to greet Dwayne, who looked away for his wife for a moment to wave at her and call her name.

Once inside, she collapsed at her desk, closing her eyes and trying to erase any images of happy couples and any negative emotions associated with them from her head. She needed to be focused on her cases now, not on her stupid feelings.

Engrossed in work, she didn't notice Tammy Gregorio, one of if not her favorite coworker, standing over her desk until the other woman touched her hand gently.

The simple act of an affectionate touch felt like a lightning strike to Hannah, who instantly stiffened and shot her gaze upwards to look at the other woman.

She touched me! Does that... does that mean...?

"Any new developments on the case?"

Tammy's New York accent may not have been attractive to some, but to Hannah, it was charming. She could listen to the other woman talk for hours, curled up with a warm cup of tea...

Lost in her own thoughts and desires, she didn't notice that her eyes had steadily been drifting downwards until they settled on something that made her heart stop.

Right on Tammy's chest, a coffee stain sat. That wouldn't be intriguing in the slightest, except for the fact that the shape, size, and location of the stain were the exact same as the shape, size, and location as Hannah's stain.

"You... have a coffee stain on your shirt."

Her voice was choked, staggered.

She couldn't believe that this was possible. That after all these years of hoping, begging, praying for a soulmate had finally bore fruit. And a beautiful fruit, nonetheless.

It was too good to be true. If she wasn't feeling jittery from the coffee she'd drunk earlier, she would've discounted the whole experience as a dream.

But this was real. And it was everything she'd ever hoped it would be.

"Yeah, I do. This damn coffee maker... it's so temperamental. I see why Quentin likes his fancy one so much better."

The deep, passionate laugh that emanated from their coworker upon hearing his name mentioned made Hannah cringe. She didn't know that her rapid fall in love had been witnessed, much less by a man such as Quentin Carter. Her face flushed pink, and she looked back down at her files, suddenly shy.

Tammy noticed the shift in her demeanor and softened her own demeanor up to match, moving over to stand by Hannah's side and take the other woman's hands in hers. She knew how obnoxious Quentin could be, how easily he riled everyone up. She didn't want Hannah- one of her favorite, if not her most favorite coworker- to be bothered by his narcissistic nature.

It was when she looked down to try and meet Hannah's eyes that she saw why the woman was so emotional.

Spread across her chest was a coffee stain exactly the same as the one Tammy had on her own chest.

Knowing what that could mean, the possibility that they were soulmates... it caused her to take several steps back in shock. Her mouth opened wide, her dark eyes moving rapidly between the two stains.

"We're-"

She could only get one word out, so overcome with the intensity of the situation.

Hannah shot up from her chair and pulled her into a tight embrace. Her lips teased the skin beneath Tammy's ear, and the tall Italian moaned softly at the tenderness of the caress.

"Soulmates.

The weight of that one word brought both women to their knees, collapsing onto the ground. They held one another, caressing each other passionately and loving one another to make up for the years of pain they'd sustained without soulmates.

Quentin's laughs increased in intensity until he was doubling over, but neither woman cared. They were in their own world, a world that nobody could interfere in.

And, in this world, Hannah finally felt happy.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Three Years Later

Hannah woke up yet again to a torrential downpour. Classic spring in New Orleans- either hot, humid, and miserable or lukewarm, rainy, and equally as miserable.

It was still early. She didn't have to be at work for a few hours. So she relaxed, making a cup of coffee and heading out to her porch.

This time, the porch was no longer unattended, and the world was no longer colorless.

Nestled under the vanilla-colored eaves, curled up comfortably in her NCIS raincoat, was Tammy Gregorio. Her folded hands boasted a beautiful diamond ring, shining on this cloudy day like a second sun.

And, just like their first meeting, a coffee stain covered her shirt.

"I love you, eshgham."

Hannah murmured, curling up on the already cramped chair and pulling her (thankfully shorter) wife into an embrace that said more than words ever could.

"I love you too, mio cuore."

The two women intertwined their fingers together, and watched as their monochrome worlds were dyed in each other's color.

The rain beat down steadily, a typically intimidating and saddening presence becoming a beautiful backdrop to their blooming romance.

"I'm so glad you're my soulmate," Hannah murmured lovingly, her lips and teeth slowly teasing Tammy's shoulder blades.

Tammy moaned in response, her body melting and becoming pliant in her wife's skillful hands.

Looking out at her world that had once been monochrome, she could see in full color the majesty of the sky.

And in that sky, she hoped that Hannah would forever stay her brightest star.

[improvidus]

Live to Die Another Day | Gregorio & LaSalle Oneshot

Warnings | None

Rating | K+

Genres | H/C, Light Angst, Friendship, Fluff

Characters | Tammy Gregorio, Christopher LaSalle

Pairings | Tammy Gregorio & Christopher LaSalle (Pals. Unless you wanna do le squinty-squint.)

Word Count | 1K+

Summary: Tag to 4x06, Acceptable Loss. Tammy struggles to process LaSalle’s brush with death. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to deal with it alone. Gregorio/LaSalle bonding and broship. 

"Gregorio."

Gregorio groaned internally as she dropped a bag of tea into her mug.

"Gregorio." LaSalle's voice was louder, more insistent this time.

"What?" she snapped, watching the color from the teabag bleed into the hot water as she dunked it again. He came to a halt behind her and she reached for creamer she never used as an excuse to fully turn her back.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on with you?"

Gregorio kept her voice casual. "Nothing's going on with me."

"Uh-huh. Come on, you've been avoiding me all day—yesterday, too."

"You're imagining things, LaSalle."

"Gregorio. Come on, this is ridiculous. Did I say something? If I've offended you somehow, I'd like to know about it so I can make it right."

A lump burned its way up her throat and she clenched her jaw. Not now. She swallowed hard before she replied, schooling her voice to remain steady and light. "What's the matter, you got a guilty conscience or something?"

Suddenly, his hand was on her arm, spinning her around to face him. The frustrated determination in his eyes was buried in a flood of concern when he saw the tears in hers. "Gregorio! What's wrong?"

Her chin trembled. Dang it. "Listen, I know what this looks like, but I'm okay."

"Gregorio…"

"Leave it alone, LaSalle," she growled, shoving him back a step.

He released her arm, but his eyes never left hers. "What's going on?"

She shook her head and looked away, furiously attempting to blink back the confounded wetness trying to escape her eyes.

"Gregorio—"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Shush. I'm gonna tell you, I just—mm." If I talk now I'm gonna be crying all over you in about half a second. She studied her feet, chewing the inside of her cheek.

He waited.

When she finally trusted herself enough to speak, her voice was low and shaky, still far to close to tears for her comfort. "I thought we'd lost you." There was a scuff on her boot. She hadn't noticed it before.

She knelt on the rough cement floor, the toes of her boots scraping against the pavement as she dropped to her knees and joined Pride at LaSalle's side.

"The other day...when we found you, and you didn't have a pulse? I thought you were gone." She wrestled her eyes up to look at his face.

His frown deepened in confusion, an incredulous smile starting to tug at his lips. "Gregorio, I'm fine—"

Anger flared in her gut and she cut him off. "Four minutes."

"What?"

"You were gone for four minutes, LaSalle. That we know of." There was no telling how long it had been between their finding him and Chloe leaving him for dead. She crossed her arms, her voice rising. "I gave you CPR! You wouldn't move, wouldn't wake up, wouldn't breathe."

She almost hadn't believed Percy before, but now Pride was doing chest compressions and pleading with LaSalle to wake up and Percy was speaking frantically into her phone and LaSalle just lay there, still, too still to be the animated man she knew and far too still to be yet among the living.

LaSalle was silent. She was glad.

"Pride...I know it messed him up, but I think somehow he knew. He knew you were gonna be okay, that we would get you back. But I—" her voice cracked, "—there was this lead in my gut, you know?" She scrubbed a hand under her eyes, the tears scalding her skin. "I didn't know four minutes could take so long."

Her hands on his chest, pumping—One. Two. Three. Four—trying to do the work his heart should be doing as bone and cartilage ground and popped beneath her palm—Seven. Eight. Nine—Percy pacing in the background—Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen—his head lolling in time with her efforts—Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty...

She ran a hand over her mouth and looked LaSalle in the eye for the first time since he'd walked into the room. "So, yeah. To answer your questions, I'm a little messed up right now. I'm mad. I'm mad at Chloe for almost taking my friend away. I'm mad at myself for giving up on you so easily." She scoffed. "I'm even mad at you for scaring me like that." She wasn't sure when her voice had gotten this loud, or when she had stopped fighting the stream of tears that was now flowing freely down her face. A sob bubbled free. "You were dead, LaSalle."

She didn't fight his grip on her arm this time, as he pulled her into a hug and held her tight. Another sob escaped as she returned his embrace, drinking in the heartbeat that thumped firm and steady beneath her ear.

His eyes flew open and he shot upright and then everyone was talking at once, touching him, watching his face twist with fear and confusion and pain and life. Pride's arms were suddenly wound around his shoulders, keeping him upright as Percy grabbed for his flailing hands and Gregorio thrust her hand against his chest, over his heart. The beat was too fast, erratic and thready, but it was there.

"But I'm not dead. Thanks in large part to you, I'm right here and I'm just fine."

They stood that way for a while, Gregorio's sobs fading to hiccups and the tears beginning to dry. LaSalle squeezed her a little tighter. "I owe you one, Tammy."

She snuffled and pulled away, giving his chest a brisk pat as her crusty exoskeleton slipped back into place. "Yeah, you do. And you can repay me by making sure I never have to do that again."

His amused smirk faded to gravity as he looked at her. "You know I can't promise that any more than you can."

"Yeah, well...do your best, yeah?"

"You got it." He folded her back into his embrace and she returned it tightly.

"Oh—and LaSalle?" Her voice was muffled in his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"You tell anyone about this, I'm gonna take you out and finish what Chloe started, you got me?"

A laugh rumbled beneath her ear. "Copy that."

[hannah-khoury-deserves-better]

Take Me Home Chapter 3

Summary: Hannah gets some unexpected news and she and Tammy have to figure out their new reality.

Words - 2180

Warnings: none

Pairings: Hannah Khoury/Tammy Gregorio, Tammy Gregorio/Sebastian Lund (Friendship) Hannah Khoury/Jack Sloane (Friendship), Jack Sloane/Leon Vance, others to be added.

A False Spring

Hannah wandered around  her kitchen, luckily she had managed to sleep some the night before. She could hear Naomi’s footsteps from the hallway, she was up and getting ready for school

“Naomi, get ready we have to leave in ten minutes” she called out.

As Hannah made Naomi’s lunch, happy that her new child had only made her sick once so far, and if she had to get sick again, hopefully would be after she dropped Naomi off at school.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yeah baby I'm fine why?” Hannah asked as she put a sandwich in Naomi's lunchbox.

“I heard you get sick this morning and you’re acting weird.” Naomi replied as has came up to Hannah.

“Just a lot on my mind baby.”

“When are you moving in with me and Dad?” Naomi asked, her face tilting up to look at Hannah.

“Baby we talked about this, your dad and I aren't married anymore, remember?” Hannah said as she brushed some of Naomi's hair back.

“That's not fair mom.”

“I know.” Hannah sighed.

“Go get your shoes we're about to be late.”

---

As Doctor Mary Riggen walked in, she greeted Hannah, “Hey Agent Khoury, how are you doing today?”

Hannah who was sitting on the exam table, in the paper gown they had given her “Okay I think, I've been sick a couple of times but the exhaustion is the worse part.”

“Well those symptoms should hopefully die down in about a month for you.” Doctor Riggen said as she looked at her tablet “Your blood test confirms that you are in fact pregnant.”

“Congratulations. But I want to do an ultrasound today, both to confirm how far along you are, and make sure everything looks good. I see on your chart that you’ve had several miscarriages.”

Hannah nodded “I want to do as much as we can, I want a healthy baby.”

“Okay lean back then, sorry the gel is cold.” Doctor Riggen said as she adjusted the probe, “And there is your baby” she said pointing at a small blob on the screen.

Hannah felt some tears prick at her eyes, as she looked at her new child that was growing inside her.

“Okay Agent Khoury, you can sit up.” As she handed Hannah a towel to wipe her stomach off with.

“So you are seven weeks along. Everything looks good, try and take it easy in the field.” Doctor Riggen said as she made notes on the tablet. “I'm giving you a prescription for prenatal vitamins. I want to see you again when you are twelve weeks.”

The front desk will help you make a appointment and give you a copy of the ultrasound if you want it. Do you have any questions for me?” She said as she looked up at Hannah.

“I don't think so, but I can call if needed correct?”

“Yes anytime. We have a 24/7 line here. My extension is 482.” Doctor Riggen said as she left the room.

Hannah leaned back, her pregnancy seemed much more real now, even more than it had before. Her thoughts however were cut off by her phone ringing.

“Yeah Loretta.” She said as she answered it, listening to Loretta speak “okay on the way. I should be there in about thirty minutes. Have the team get started.” She said as she hung up the phone and moved to get redressed and go to the new crime scene.

---

The sun beat down on the ally near Jackson square, the wind was picking up and pushing trash about. Hannah walked over towards the group of vehicles she could see, she pushed through the crowd towards Lasalle, who was waiting for her with her jacket and hat.

“Hey boss, Naomi okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, just needed to do something before I came in today,” Hannah replied as she pulled the jacket and hat on.

“So what do we have? And who found the body?”

“Tourists that were coming back from a walk about Jackson Square and found em” Chris replied as they walked towards to the crime scene.  

“Ah, Hannah there you are. We have Captain Gregory Hant he has multiple stab wounds including one to the chest, which I'm guessing is the cause of death.” Loretta said.

“But we also have some type of substance on the captain’s body. Sebastian can try and identify it when I get him back to autopsy.”

The substance was grabbed by the wind and blew towards the team as they listened to Loretta.

“It's okay I've already got a sample of it. I don't think we need to worry.”

“Thanks, Loretta. Street cams?” Hannah asked.

“Camera coverage is light here, I'll ask the businesses if they have angles here,” Tammy said.

“Great, Lasalle, you and I will head back to the squad room see what we can find out,” Hannah ordered.

---

Hannah looked up at Chris “Ready?”

“Yeah what do ya got,” he replied as he entered into the center of the room.

“Captain Gregory Hant worked on the wharves, he was in charge of buying fresh produce for the Navy.” Hannah said as she brought up his file “recently however he's been accused of mishandling funds. Other than that his service records clean.”

Chris nodded “married with a four-year-old son. Wife said he's been distant lately, but was a loving father.”

Hannah bit her lip, “So, no clear reason to murder him?”

“I might have something” Tammy hollered as she walked in, “One of the cameras caught this near the time of death” clicking on her keyboard before gesturing to the screen. There was a man in a dark uniform and he came out of the alley a knife in hand before wiping it down and throwing it in the sewer grate.

“Was that a marine that just killed our victim?” Chris asked slowly.

“Looks like it,” Tammy said.

“Okay, Gregorio get with Patton see if he can find this guy somewhere else, get a better angle.”

Hannah said before turning to Chris, “Lasalle look into anyone who might have had problems with the victim, see if you can find who accused him of mishandling the funds”.

“On it, boss” Chris said as he headed to his desk.

“What about you?” Tammy asked.

“I'm going to the morgue for an update from Loretta,” Hannah said as she left the office.

---

Hannah walked into the JPSO building, looking around for Loretta’s lab.

A warm dulcet voice came from behind her, “Hannah, here for an update?” Loretta asked as she came past her.

Hannah blinked out of her daydreaming, “Yes I am. What exactly are we dealing with here Loretta?”

Loretta gestured  as she made to the table, “We are dealing with a vicious stabbing. The killer wanted to cause maximum pain before allowing him to die. Captain Hant took stabs to his shoulder, both hips and grazes to his ribs and short puncture wounds to his legs,” the coroner pointed to the x-ray photos of the victim’s body.

“The causes of death is dissection of the aorta. The blow to the throats was postmortem.”

Taking a deep breath and pointing to the screen “The substance found appears to be mold of some type, he had also breathed it in shortly before death.”

“How can you know when he breathed in the substance?” Hannah asked.

“It was present in his sinus cavity but there was no inflammation so the body didn't have enough time to react to it,”

Hannah took a deep breath “What about the team? Do we need to be worried?”

Loretta shook her head, hair covered by the purple and tan scrub hat she wore. “No the team should be fine, the mold had degraded below the infective dose, and no one has a compromised immune system.”

Hannah paused in her pacing, “What about an unborn child. What would exposure do?”

“As long as the mother isn't infected the child should be fine. Why?” Loretta looked at Hannah, her dark eyes seemingly seeing through her.

“I'm seven weeks pregnant,” Hannah confessed, looking up briefly before dropping her eyes back to to the ground.

“Hannah that's wonderful!” Hannah smiled softly.

“What does Ryan think? He must be pleased.” Loretta said as she rounded the autopsy table.

“He doesn't know. I got pregnant the day before he signed the divorce papers. I'm not sure when I'm going to tell him or Naomi. Or how.” Her smile dropped as she explained the aftermath of it, her eyes still locked on the ground.

Loretta leaned her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

Hannah took a deep breath before starting “Ryan and I, really wanted another baby after we had Naomi, but I had five miscarriages after having her. The last one five years ago, came after I was at work, helping with this big op, I was almost three months along. That miscarriage was the beginning of the end for us. He blamed me for losing his baby.”

Hannah shook her head. “After the group made an attempt on my life and Ryan and Naomi were nearly killed. I sent divorce papers. He finally signed them but if he knows I'm having another baby. He’ll take custody the moment I give birth.” Hannah turned her head up to see Loretta “I can't make the mistakes I made with Naomi. I want this baby.”

Loretta pulled Hannah into a hug, feeling Hannah's body crumple against her before tears soaked her shoulder.

“Let's get you some tea sweetheart.”

---

Sebastian walked into the morgue looking at a tablet “so I figured out what kind of mold it is. Did you know there's over a hundred thousand types? Which is kind of terrifying if you think about it.”

“Sebastian dear, what did you find?” Loretta interrupted him.

He looked up and found a slightly teary looking Hannah sitting next to Loretta both had tea mugs in their hands.

“Oh, it's Stachybotrys Chartarum, black mold. Unfortunately, it's kind of common, it likes damp and warm places.”

“So all of New Orleans,” Hannah groaned as she put her mug back on Loretta’s desk. “Let's head back to the office, see if the others have had better luck. Thank you, Loretta.”

“You're welcome dear. My door is always open.” Loretta said as she picked up the mugs and went to clean them.

----

Hannah and Sebastian walked into the office together, while he split to the side to upload a map. Hannah turned to look as Chris, a questioning look on her face. “Did you find anyone with problems against the Captain?”

“Kinda. His brother in law, Sam Grady, has fought him several times, the last one two weeks ago, got the police called on ‘em. But he's out of town so he didn't do it.”

“At least not personally.” Sebastian pointed out.

“Also his second in command at the wharfs, Commander Lucas Thiy, is the one that filled the report against him. He's currently working on taking supplies out to a boat, due back in a hour. I'll pick him up then.”

“Okay take Sebastian with you for backup. And talk to him there, just in case.” Chris nodded and gestured for Sebastian to follow him out.

Hannah shook her head and went to see where Tammy and Patton where on finding the suspect.

She walked into Patton’s office “hey please tell me, you have good news.”

“Nope sorry boss, pretty quickly after the first time we see him that Gregorio found we only have a few more shots of him.” Patton said, shaking his head.

“Okay what are you doing then.” Hannah asked.

“I'm running with Gregorio’s help, my new program. It should be able to figure out our killer’s info. Like height weight that kinda thing.”

“Do programs that do that not already exist? And it can be mistaken by things like clothes and thick soled shoes.”

Patton gasped, “Not my program. It's written to take all that into account.”

Hannah turned to Tammy “And your doing what?”

“I'm trying to figure out his training. From how he walks and kills, I'm not thinking marine anymore.” Tammy replied her eyes glued to the screen.

“Okay I'm going to go start tracking the captain’s movements throughout the city the day he died.” Hannah said as she left the room.

----

Tammy walked into the main office and smiled she and Hannah were the only ones left in the building.

“Hey, what are you doing” she asked as she sat on the corner of Hannah's desk.

“Trying to keep up with the paperwork that comes with being lead agent,” Hannah said as she lent back in her chair.

“Oh I never want to do more paperwork than I do now.” Tammy said with a laugh.

“So you want to get out of here. Dinner and a movie at my place?” Hannah asked softly.

“Naomi’s back with Ryan. It's just us.”

“Sure, let me get my jacket.” Tammy said moving back to her desk, before meeting Hannah at the door, the two walking out hand in hand.

[hannah-khoury-deserves-better]

It looks more shrapnel like to me. And they were filming another bombing a few days ago.

from necar’s instagram story……

IS THAT A FUCKING BULLET HOLE IN VANESSA’S HEAD???

@dwaynepride @jimmybpride

[le-amewzing]

Better

Season 6 is killing me, but I felt there was some closure missing in the wake of recent events…so here's a little epilogue of sorts for s6e7. ;w;

Fic: "Better" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Loretta Wade & Donald "Ducky" Mallard, with a cameo from Officer Roy

Rating: K

Words: ~1,960

Additional info: friendship, angst (more like hurt/comfort), 3rd person POV

Summary: "Better." At least she could tell Dwayne something different instead of saying she was "fine." -—Or, a timely visit from a friend lessens the weight of Loretta's heart in the face of loss.

      It was Sunday again.

      Loretta pursed her lips as the joviality of the service calmed to a tepid ease while the rest of the congregation filed outside, emptying the church. Yes, she loved the service, and she hadn't missed a single one since Christopher's death, but…

      …but the weeks were going by, and they weren't getting any easier. With each service, her smile would vanish a little bit faster, her happiness at being surrounded by such love and kindness replaced so quickly by starkness of the facts of reality.

      Even now, Loretta attempted to admonish herself. Had she become a pessimist? Maybe it wasn't only Christopher's death. Maybe it was more than the close call Sebastian and Hannah had had and Tammy and Patton had almost incurred in the city gas lines case.

      Perhaps, as Sebastian had reminded her, it was just their job and everything that came with it.

      With that dismal thought in her head, Loretta checked the time. It was half past brunch, and she could do with some company. Of course she wished she could find that company at home, but, with C.J. following Danny's footsteps and becoming more interested in military school and the career that would follow, she didn't feel like going home to an empty house.

      The short drive from the church to the NCIS office put her thoughts on pause for a brief moment. The parking spaces usually occupied by the others were empty, but she didn't quash her hopes entirely that one of her friends might be around, so she pulled in, cut the engine, and headed for the main entrance.

      "'Morning, Dr. Wade," Officer Roy said with a tip of his head and a warm smile.

      Loretta returned the guard's kindness. "Good morning, Roy." She gestured inside with her pocketbook arm. "Anyone home today? I didn't call ahead."

      He halfheartedly shook his head. "Patton's holed up in his den, tracing something. The rest were called out. Attempted robbery by a petty officer, I think I overheard Gregorio say. No clue when they'll be back, ma'am."

      "Oh." Despite her good posture, Loretta sensed more than felt her shoulders sag in the slightest. "Well, then, I think I shall make myself scarce. Knowing this team, a robbery out there will have them in and out of the office regardless, and I don't want to be underfoot while they're going full steam ahead. See you 'round, Roy."

      "Yes, ma'am," he replied, though Loretta thought she caught Roy furrowing his dark brow in concern as she turned away.

      Only a few yards away from the entrance, Loretta nearly crashed into another passerby on the sidewalk. But before she could utter an apology—

      "Dr. Wade! How fortunate to run into you as the first face I see on my visit to New Orleans." There was no mistaking that brogue as "New Orleans" came out of his mouth with its unusual pronunciation.

      Loretta beamed upon seeing her fellow medical examiner. "Dr. Mallard." She shook his hand and continued, "It's good to see you, Ducky. To what does the bayou owe the pleasure?"

      Ducky grinned and motioned to the headquarters behind her. "I'll be speaking at a forensics panel for a university event starting tomorrow, as part and parcel of yet another leg on my seemingly unending book tour. Since I was in your neighborhood, I thought I'd drop by. Unless the team's busy?"

      She nodded. "I just got turned away myself."

      "Duty never ceases to call," he remarked. His glasses slid down his nose as he raised his eyebrows at the brick building. "A shame, though. I was rather looking forward to seeing that beautiful inner courtyard."

      Loretta made up her mind then. "No reason you can't," she told him. She turned and gestured for him to follow. "I've been told Patton's in, but he probably can't be disturbed. No matter, though; I know my way around the kitchen, so I can whip up a pot of tea."

      "That'd be delightful. Now I'm glad I stopped for a bag of these."

      Loretta noticed for the first time that Ducky had a paper bag cradled in the crook of his left elbow. "Are those—"

      "Beignets, of course."

      Loretta's grin broke into an open-mouthed smile as she laughed. "You know us well, Ducky."

      Roy nodded to them as they headed inside, his interest snatched by the paper bag of goodies as the coroners went to the kitchen. Contrasting that, Patton could be heard rolling in his base of operations, clacking away at the keyboard and occasionally smacking an old monitor.

      "Your timing couldn't have been better," Loretta said to Ducky after she put her purse down and grabbed the kettle.

      "I should hope so, seeing as you're dressed in your Sunday best, my dear."

      "No, no, I—well, yes, I came from church." She waved her frustration away and filled the kettle with water. "I meant overall. Recently."

      As sharp as ever, Ducky caught on. "Oh," he said into the relative quiet. The syllable was a heavy one. "Special Agent LaSalle, of course. My apologies, Loretta."

      She stared at him once the teapot was on the burner. "You and I both know there's not a piece of NCIS news that makes it past you."

      He smiled again, but it was sad and sheepish. "Just something buried for the moment. I am happy to see you well. And my condolences, nevertheless, for your loss."

      Loretta pursed her lips and rolled her tongue around in her mouth, trying to find the right words. But Ducky's short strings of his own had derailed her. Not only had she heard several of them too often as of late, but—

      They just weren't the right ones.

      Loss.

      Condolences.

      Well.

      Even echoing in her head, that one in particular grated on her nerves.

      "…thank you," she said eventually.

      Sensing her darkened mood, he kept quiet and made for the inner courtyard, choosing to wait for her and the tea there instead.

      And, for that, Loretta was grateful. Sebastian was like a son and Dwayne was her oldest friend—but such assurances about the situation even from them had made her irate, as well. Loretta had begun to doubt that anyone would have the right words for her, whether they sympathized or empathized. That compassion made it feel as if Christopher's death were a bloody mark that would never scab over.

      Waiting for the tea allowed her to stew a bit. By the time the kettle whistled, she'd forced her annoyances down and could generate her usual smile. Good. Ducky deserved that, after all. He hadn't done anything wrong, and he was visiting, and he'd brought beignets.

      "Tea is served," she announced. She set the tray with their saucers, cups, the kettle, and the pastries down on the table and motioned for him to sit when Ducky stood to help her. "You're my guest, Ducky, so sit back down." She raised her eyebrows and gave him the same stare that always made Danny and C.J. get right on their chores.

      Ducky dutifully ducked his head and did as told. "Thank you, Loretta."

      Loretta sat and doled everything out, pouring his tea and then hers. In the ensuing silence, she broke off a corner of her first beignet. She realized Ducky had given her the floor. Still, she hadn't the words, so she mindlessly broke the corner into bits and ate the crumbs, one by one.

      He took the hint. "I sense I was mistaken in my assessment."

      "'Assessment'?" she echoed.

      "Not profiling you, my dear, I assure. Just a word choice symptomatic of our chosen profession." Regardless, he studied her, both her face and her crumbling. "I've no doubt you've spoken about Agent LaSalle's death?"

      She nodded at his prompt. "Yes, of course. We all had to be cleared to work again. And, with no one on leave, we've had each other to lean on and discuss Christopher."

      "And you've leaned?"

      Loretta smirked. "Perhaps to the breaking point," she replied, thinking of her snappish attitude towards Sebastian and Dwayne. "Despite being surrounded by death, it hasn't been easy, Ducky."

      "Nor should it be," he affirmed. He sipped his tea and ate a little, all the while thinking. "But…to my knowledge, this is your first agent loss."

      "We lose people all the time. Civilian and officer alike."

      "Not the collective 'you,' Loretta," Ducky corrected. "You, Loretta. You ended up having a friend on your autopsy table. It's not something one merely pushes aside."

      Loretta paused. It was the cold, hard truth, and she'd thought about it often since Christopher had passed. But thinking about something, no matter how often, did not mean it penetrated. Even now, the words, Ducky's words, floated around in her mind. The words, their definitions, the letters, the meaning—

      Until, finally, something clicked. Something else.

      "…at what point do you get used to it?" she asked tentatively.

      Ducky gave her a wistful smile and seemed to sag in the chair opposite her across this tiny café table in the courtyard. "There is no getting used to it. Each friend on your table takes a bit of you with them. And, yet, something else is left behind. Perhaps a part of themselves…"

      Loretta stopped fussing with the crumbs and tilted her head off to the right slightly, trying to catch her colleague's eye.

      "I've seen many on my autopsy table—now Dr. Palmer's, of course," he stressed. "But victims, agents, friends…in the span of about a decade, I worked on over half a dozen friends alone."

      "Ducky—" Any platitudes died in her throat as her stomach sank like a cold brick.

      "In the early days of Gibbs' team, when it consisted primarily of Gibbs and Tony and they took help more readily from other agents in the office, Special Agent Christopher Pacci was murdered in the pursuit of closing a cold case." He shuddered as he recalled the body. Then Ducky's voice grew softer. "As Gibbs' team was first forming, properly, we had an agent from the Secret Service join us. Caitlin Todd." Ducky paused again and unwrapped and wrapped his fingers around his cup. "…later, well after Ziva David had settled in as part of his team and we became accustomed to new leadership, it was the director before Director Vance, Jenny Shepard." Here he paused to "hmm" in the back of his throat. "Interestingly, the person from whom Jenny sought help, Gibbs' mentor, was the next one. Mike Franks."

      Loretta remembered Director Shepard's death, the fire that had engulfed her home. But she kept her remarks to herself.

      "Then there was Mrs. Vance. Special Agent Ned Dorneget. Diane." Ducky shook his head.

      "Ducky," she tried again. But when his name didn't turn into a full sentence, she reached out for his hand.

      He patted hers in gratitude. "They say if you ever get used to it, move on to another line of work. But, as I insisted, there is no 'getting used to it.' It doesn't get any easier, my friend. But you—with each and every day, week, month, year, you will feel better. Even if it doesn't seem like it, it will happen. One day will be better than the previous, and so on and so forth." He looked askance at her when she softly snorted.

      But…perhaps Ducky was on to something. It was a lie to say every time that she was "fine," "okay," or "all right." That was just never the truth.

      But "better" seemed…good. Or good enough.

      Loretta didn't want Ducky's grim history. She didn't even want a repeat of Christopher.

      But "better" was a goal to work towards, and Loretta Wade was a hard worker.

      She owed Christopher, and herself, that much.

Soft and, perhaps, anticlimactic, but necessary. I felt that ep7 left Loretta still far too angry; granted, for the viewers it's only 1 episode after Chris' death, but in the canon of the episode several weeks have passed. Had they made it a more Loretta-centric episode, I would hope they'd include a chat like this between her and Ducky (Palmer, tho I love him, wouldn't carry the same weight bc Loretta and Ducky are closer in age and therefore have a longer history of autopsy in common). Tbh I wish we'd have more notions in canon of the charries in diff offices being in touch aside from when they share cases, but, alas, the limits of primetime. Also, I loved that, in my 1st NOLA fic, I got to include not only some of my fav main charries (Loretta ofc and Ducky), but a fav minor—Roy the guard! XD I love him stationed outside, keeping an eye on things; he's so kind, and it'd be cool if we saw more of him, *lol*. Lastly, in editing this before posting, I can say that s6e8's Loretta storyline did appease me a bit, *lol*. But also I kept thinking about Pacci's death, and it didn't seem right not to include him in Ducky's list, so I fixed that. :')Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

2022 note: I wanted to revisit this as I'm slowly delving more into writing for NOLA, and it always bugged me that I had a large error here, *lol*, so I fixed it! X'D I also added a few words for clarity and checked a few pieces of punctuation to polish this piece. (How's that for alliteration? ;3) Ahhh, NOLA might be over, but it lives on in my mind and heart…! I srsly need to write more for it. ;w;