ADA Alex Cabot (glasses_justice) wrote,
ADA Alex Cabot
glasses_justice

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MCA #3, Wednesday Evening

Alex Cabot was starting to be very concerned about the reports on the radio. Being in Witness Protection meant that most of the people off this island that she cared about were ones who already thought her dead; she couldn't call them to ensure that they were all right. Too many lines were tapped.

Most of the people. Not all.

Alex wasn't expecting a package to be on her doorstep; the return address being in DC lightened her spirits. She recognized Gibbs' scrawl, and hauled the package inside quickly. There, that was one person she didn't need to worry about, then. Her hand was already reaching for the phone to call him. Maybe it was a bottle of Scotch? She could use one.

The first thing in the box was a letter.

Dear Alex,

I hope this letter finds you well and still in Fandom. I know I didn’t leave on the best of terms but hopefully you’ve found some way of forgiving me.

Things here have gotten strange. Fandom Island kind of strange. People who I’ve worked with for years have disappeared and no one seems to remember them. My usual coffee shop is now an empty lot. Cases I’ve worked on and people I’ve helped no longer exist. Everyone thinks I’ve lost it and there are times I have to wonder if that’s truly the case.

I used to think that between the Corps, NCIS and Fandom there wasn’t a situation that I couldn’t handle. Turns out I was completely wrong.

If this gets to you, you’ll find what used to be a time capsule of my daughter’s. It’s one of the few things I still have of hers. If what I think is really happening, I need to know that her memory is safe with someone I trust.

She’s the only memory in this world I truly care about, Alex. Please keep it safe.

And in case it matters: You were the best ex-wife I could have ever asked for.

Love,
Gibbs


Oh God oh God oh God. One hand was dialing, in a panic, while the other sifted through the packing material.

There was ... a lunchbox. Polaroids. A little girl, one she had met in a basement, next to a boat.

The automated voice in her ear sounded very far away when it told her, We're sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please check the number and call again.

She sank down onto her couch, slowly. It was probably for the best that she move the pictures out of her lap. They were getting wet, and it might smudge the color.

(letter and package by the incomparable famous_gut, who made me wibble to death with this. nfi, broadcast totally a-okay, and OOC is love.)
Tags: alex hates fandom, gibbs, mca #3, the nothing
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