[ NCIS ] Quinn and Torres | What Would It Be?

Chapter 4: a decision to make

The following day at the bustling bullpen, an air of tension hung in the atmosphere. It was different, noticeably so. The elevator chimed, announcing the arrival of someone who made their way to their respective desks.

"Quinn. You're here. I didn't know you were coming," Torres remarked, attempting to engage her in conversation.

She ignored him, her hand swiftly slapping his face before she walked away. He chuckled, bemused by the unexpected turn of events. McGee, Bishop, and Gibbs observed the exchange, perplexed and unaware of the underlying dynamics between Quinn and Torres.

Gibbs, glancing at his flip phone, broke the silence. "Looks like we got a case. Gear up. Bishop, you're with McGee. Torres, you better do what you gotta do."

"On it, boss," McGee replied, as he and Bishop made their way to the parking lot and climbed into their car, en route to the crime scene.

"I was worried about them," Bishop confessed to McGee, her concern evident.

"Me too. I mean, what the hell is going on?" McGee echoed, sharing her bewilderment.

"Do you think we should talk to one of them?" Bishop suggested, considering their options.

"Nah, that's a terrible idea for now. We should wait," McGee advised, opting for caution.

"I can't wait. Before it's too late," Bishop expressed her urgency.

"What do you think is gonna happen?" McGee inquired, curious about Bishop's thoughts.

"It could be anything," Bishop responded, her mind racing with possibilities.

"You know what, just stay away from their problems," McGee advised, aware of the complexity of the situation.

"Yeah, okay. But keep me posted," Bishop requested, concerned for their colleagues.

Meanwhile, Torres remained rooted in place, standing in front of Gibbs's desk, his frustration palpable. She hadn't even listened to him. With a heavy sigh, Torres made his way to the crime scene. Where was Quinn? She had been with Gibbs in the conference room.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Gibbs offered, his tone filled with understanding.

"I don't think so," Quinn replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

"This is why I make my rules," Gibbs remarked, emphasizing the importance of his principles.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry," Quinn admitted, acknowledging her misstep.

"Never say you're sorry. It's a sign of weakness," Gibbs advised, imparting his wisdom.

"What do I do now?" Quinn questioned, her uncertainty apparent.

"Do you still wanna be with him?" Gibbs probed, his words carefully chosen.

"No. He would hate me. Maybe this is it. It's over," Quinn confided, her heart heavy with resignation.

"I'll help you get through this," Gibbs assured her, offering his support.

"No, it's fine. It's been a long day. I wanna go home," Quinn declared, yearning for solace.

"I'll drive you home," Gibbs offered, his concern evident.

At the crime scene, McGee approached Torres, breaking the silence. "Hey, Torres. I thought you were at the office."

"Ah, it's better to be here with you guys," Torres replied, his presence lacking its usual vibrancy.

"Everything okay?" Bishop inquired, her gaze filled with concern.

"Fine. What do we have here?" Torres responded, redirecting the conversation.

"Male, early 30s. Someone shot him in the back of the head. I think he knew the suspect," McGee shared, providing the details of the crime.

"I'll go talk to the victim's family. You guys go do something else," Torres suggested, offering to take on the responsibility.

"Excuse me, but I'm the one who will talk to the victim's family," Bishop interjected, asserting her role.

"Yeah, Torres. Why don't you bring the evidence to Abby?" McGee proposed, ensuring everyone had a task.

"Sure, I could do that," Torres agreed, accepting the assignment.

"Thanks," Bishop acknowledged appreciatively.

Meanwhile, Quinn arrived at her house, her mind consumed by the decisions she had made. She felt no regret for the choices she had taken.

"Alex, you're home early," her mother, Marie, greeted her.

"Yeah, Mom. Didn't feel well today," Quinn explained, providing a vague reason.

"I see. So?" Marie inquired, sensing something more to the story.

"It's over. I haven't told him yet," Quinn revealed, hinting at the end of a relationship.

"Let's talk inside," Marie offered, wanting to lend her support.

Later on, Quinn informed her mother of her intention to visit a store and assured her she would return in an hour.

"Sure, be safe," Marie replied, concerned for her daughter's well-being.

Quinn headed to the store, intending to purchase food, clothes, and perhaps indulge in a drink. After completing her shopping, she made her way back to her car, when suddenly, a stranger accidentally collided with her.

"Hey, watch it," Quinn exclaimed, taken aback by the unexpected encounter.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was on a call with my friend," the stranger apologized, assisting Quinn in organizing her scattered shopping bag.

As their eyes met, recognition flickered in Quinn's gaze. "Quinn?" she questioned, her voice laced with surprise.

"Hey..." The stranger's identity slowly revealed itself—an old friend she hadn't seen in ten years. The question lingered: who was he?