Fandom One Shots Book Three

Leroy Jethro Gibbs x K9 Officer!Female!30s!Reader

Requested by: twilightfangslover

Slamming the car door behind you, you stepped out of your car. The autumn wind blowing the loosened strands of hair about your face. Opening the passenger door, you pulled out your pack that held all of your work gear. You then opened the back door and allowed your canine partner out; he stretched languidly and yawn his tongue lolling out. He shook himself as he moved up the path, you snapped the door shut. Walking up the path to the front door of the house you lived in with your sister. The wind ripped through your clothes and the crackling leaves ran along the ground hitting at your heels. Placing a hand on the doorknob it was loose and gave way when you pushed at the door. You rolled your eyes at your sister's trusting nature; you were forever telling her to lock the door.

Moving past the foyer where you dropped your pack, the stillness of the house made you pause. Normally it was filled with your sister's taste in operatic music when she baked. You muttered a command to your canine partner, he stilled hackles raised. Unclipping your weapon, you moved through the foyer to the kitchen where your sister should have been baking. She was on leave currently awaiting to be reassigned to the Pentagon, she was a Lieutenant in the Navy specialising in in Intelligence. Lately, whenever you got home the smells of her day of baking lingered in the house, now there was none. Moving into the doorway to the kitchen, you saw there was flour everywhere save for where the footprints had fallen. Giving your canine partner an order to go back to the front door, he followed your direction despite whinging despondently. You leaned carefully around the doorframe and into the room, minding the flour. Clearing the rest of the kitchen from your vantage point, you moved to the other side of the doorframe. Leaning into the room, you spotted your sister's prone body, there was some blood congealed in the flour coming from a wound in her chest.

You almost fell into the room in the shock, reeling backwards. Backing up so quickly almost tripped over your own feet. Reaching your front door, you grasped at your canine partners collar and carefully hurled him back to the car where you made him get in. Your canine partner scratched at the windows and door, trying to get out desperately. He had sensed it now; he knew what you had seen. You leaned against the car door breathing heavily, you swallowed the bile that rose in your throat and called police, and ambulance.

Once the police arrived you warned them of the flour in the kitchen across the floor. They had cleared a path and were questioning you when two sedans pulled up. "Oh crap." The investigating older cop groaned, "the navy cops are here." You didn't even flinch, numb from the discovery of your sister's dead body. The doors opened and out stepped four agents. One was a beautiful woman, who had an almost lethal aura surrounding her. Her long hair was bound up in a French braid, neatly tucked away. She was talking to a taller lean man, who had short-cropped brown hair. The third younger agent was a young man, with frat boy charm that you got see across the driveway, however when he got to one of the patrol cops and stopped to take over the scene, the frat boy charm was replaced with an almost authoritative stance. Three of them had packs slung across their shoulders. The fourth one was the one who caught your eye the most, he was older than the other agents who arrived with him. While the three others seemed to be in their early 30s, he seemed to be in his mid to late 40s. The other two moved off towards your house, shortly after they entered the house, a van pulled up to the curb. It had Medical Examiner decaled across it. An older man got out of the driver's seat and a younger man was pulling out a gurney. They both carried jump bags, the young man pushed the gurney up to the house. Both of them appeared to be having a spirited discussion about Roman history. As they passed you, you heard the older man say. "The Romans believed that one should wear the wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand. Yes, because a vein in that finger runs straight to the heart. Vena amoris. Literally the vein of love." The younger man pushing the gurney replied, "but don't all veins lead to the heart?" The older man sighed, "well yes mister Palmer, but that is not the point." They both entered the house, leaving the gurney beside the steps.