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Legends and Myths        
by Kikkimax
 

"…and after going through all that, when the poor bastard finally got out of the hospital he offed himself anyways."

Martin Thomas’s heavy Boston accent carried out of the break room all the way to the bullpen and to all points in between. But it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t heard a dozen versions of the story already. And even if each adaptation was more grisly than the last none even came close to the truth as far as Tony was concerned.

"No shit?" an unfamiliar voice gasped, a bit on the melodramatic side.

Newbie, Tony thought as he cradled his empty paper cup to his chest and let his head fall back against the inside of the door. He sighed at the unpleasant realization that his tale of woe was already being used as a warning to new recruits against the unexpected hazards of law enforcement. He should have expected it though. It was just too juicy for the old-timers to leave alone. In fact it had a glut of selling points for a good urban legend in general: obsession, male prostitution, torture, violence, poisoned coffee, rape, murder, and teeny tiny glass angels.

"I don’t know how DiNozzo lives with the guilt."

Thomas again, getting louder to be heard over the murmurs of agreement and dissent from the peanut gallery.

"He didn’t do anything."

Now that was Sheila Smith. Unlikely but true, there was simply no mistaking her breathy inflection with anyone else. Aw, sweet Sheila. Sure her hair was a little too blonde and her bosom a little too perky, but otherwise she was a very genuine person. Tony managed a smile for her defensive attitude on his behalf, especially after the Christmas party debacle the year before. Still, it hadn’t been entirely his fault they got locked in the janitor’s closet. After all, someone else had put the mistletoe there in the first place. He looked up to see a nearly mummified piece of the clump still hanging over the mop sink.

"I know," Thomas agreed stupidly. "That’s exactly what I’m saying."

"No, I mean Tony didn’t do anything wrong. He shouldn’t feel guilty, he was just another victim."

‘Victim’. The word echoed hatefully in Tony’s head. He winced and almost came out of the closet.

"Come off it, Sheila, he’s a federal agent; he should have done something. He just sat there and watched while that boy got all cut up and… defiled."

‘Defiled’ was spoken like a verbal leer. In his mind’s eye Tony could almost see the smirk on Thomas’s big fat face. He gritted his teeth and straightened up, preparing to leave the safety of his little hidey-hole. While he couldn’t disagree with the sentiment -- he should have done something -- he’d heard more than enough for one day. He cracked the door to peek out but before he could make a clean get-away rapid footsteps beat a path from the bullpen straight to the break room. Almost caught, he held his breath and waited.

"If it had been me I would have…"

"You would have what, Special Agent Thomas?"

The question was clipped and hard, almost Gibb-esque in its curtness. Not a tone Tony had ever heard coming out of that mouth.

"Uh… What?" For once in his life at a loss for words, apparently Thomas never had either.

"What would you have done while drugged and cuffed to the wall? I won’t even list all DiNozzo’s other injuries. But we’d all love to know, what the hell you would have done differently."

"McGee." Tony stepped out of the small closet and into the juncture of the hallway, coming into view of everyone who was crammed into the break room. "Don’t."

Startled by Tony’s sudden appearance Thomas covered with a forced chuckle. "You need to rein in your bulldog there, DiNozzo." No one else laughed.

"Tony." Sheila dropped her gaze toward the floor along with most of the rest of Thomas’s impromptu audience, but for an entirely different reason Tony imagined. The newbie seemed unable to tear his wide-eyed gaze away from the stalwart hero, or miserable failure of an agent and general blight on the good name of NCIS, depending on who was telling the story.

McGee whirled around to Tony, his face flush with anger. "He said it was your fault."

"It doesn’t matter," Tony soothed as he slipped an arm behind McGee to propel him back the way he’d come.

"He also said your friend Doc is dead." McGee refused to budge.

"Yeah, won’t Doc get a kick out of that next time I talk to him? Either that or he’ll hop a plane to come kick Thomas’s ass. It could go either way."

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Now wait just a minute, I have it on good authority that the gay boy killed himself."

Tony clenched and unclenched his jaw before speaking. "The gay boy has a name. It’s Michael Redding and I assure you he is alive and well and living with his parents in Chicago. Obviously your source sucks. Come on Probie, I’ll buy you a real cup of coffee. This stuff'll kill you."

Everyone glanced down into their coffee at the stinging reminder. Someone’s nervous titter broke the momentary silence before mugs began to empty out into the sink and paper cups started hitting the trashcan as people scattered back to their departments.

McGee gave Thomas one last meaningful glare. "Let’s get out of here," he said as he turned the tables and ushered Tony down the correct row of desks.

Tony allowed McGee his moment of protectiveness, a bit surprised and a lot grateful to see the extent the Probie had his back. "You want to go get coffee?" he offered when they reached their own turf, thinking a little fresh air might do them both some good.

"No." McGee sulked as he sat down to stare at his blank computer screen. "The suicide thing was new," he added after a beat, glancing up timidly. "I mean Doc, not Kenny."

"Yeah, nice touch, don’t you think? Two suicides are always better than one in your really good tragedies." Tony sat the cup he was still holding on the edge of McGee’s desk but kept his eyes on it as he spoke. "Take Romeo and Juliet for instance. Claire Danes made a pretty good Juliet, by the way, but I just didn’t buy DeCaprio as Romeo. Although I did like him better than say, oh, Leslie Howard who was already forty-three when he took the role back in…"

"Tony."

"Right." Tony abandoned the cup and headed for his own chair. He took a deep breath then let it out slowly as he sat down.

Appearing much calmer now, McGee reached over and trashed the cup. "Sorry I went off the deep end back there."

"No, it’s… hey." Tony shrugged then absently rubbed at the minor ache in his shoulder. "Listen, Probie, you don’t… you know, you don’t have to defend me."

"I know. I know what happened and I know people who don’t are going to gossip. I’m just tired of hearing it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Thanks anyway."

"Any time," McGee assured with a ghost of a smile.

They both nodded solemnly, the matter settled. Satisfied with the brevity of their manly heart to heart, Tony opened his browser and surfed to a couple of his favorite Web sites to try to get his mind off the unpleasantness. But nothing held his attention for more than a few minutes and before long he realized he was being watched.

"Something else on your mind, McGee?"

"No, I … I guess all this talk has me thinking about Kenny," McGee started then paused uncertainly. "He said something. Before he died."

"Well I’m sure he didn’t say it after he died." Tony felt like an ass for the snipe when he saw McGee’s hurt expression. "Sorry. What did he say?" he asked in a kinder tone. When McGee didn’t cave he added his best puppy dog eyes.

After another minute of the silent treatment McGee finally replied in a reverent whisper. "He said ‘I dream of angels, but I live with demons’."

Tony’s chest seemed too tight and he willed himself to breathe as he turned back to his computer with a carefully crafted nonchalance. "That’s deep."

"He said he heard it on a TV show one time. What do you think it means?"

"I suppose it means he watched too much TV," Tony replied shakily, belying the cavalier attitude.

McGee looked strickened.

"Do not," Tony said, holding up a warning finger when he could control his voice, "Say you’re sorry again."

"I’m not. I mean I am," McGee stammered. "I won’t say it."

With a sigh and a quick glance at his watch Tony got up and grabbed his jacket.

"Where are you going?" McGee asked with more concern than was warranted.

"It’s eight thirty on a Tuesday," Tony replied with a smile that might have fooled anyone who didn’t work with him every day. "I’ve got a standing date with a lovely lady."

"Oh right," McGee said with relief as he checked his own watch. "Tell Doctor Lee I said hello."

"Then I take a hard blow to the head that finally puts me down and a couple of my ribs are probably cracked because breathing hurts like a bitch. When I try to get back up someone kicks me in the stomach and I fall face first back on the asphalt. This time I just lay there. Some time later, I’m not sure how long, I turn my head I see this… arm next to me sticking out from under a blue tarp."

"You think you see an arm."

The question broke Tony out of the alley in his mind and brought him back to the cluttered but neat office. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. "Well, it was dark and my eyes wouldn’t really focus because they were watering like crazy. Not tears, just… you know, watering."

"Um hm."

Tony paused to study the toes of his sock-covered feet hanging over the arm of the sofa then turned to look at the lady in the chair next to him. "Your couch is too short. That’s height discrimination."

"Most people just sit on it, Agent DiNozzo," Doctor Lee said with her ‘let’s try to stay on topic’ frown.

"Ah." Unrepentant, Tony continued to recline.

"How many times have you had this dream now?"

"Almost every night for the past seven or eight weeks."

"So it started some time after your abduction?"

"Yeah, right after I got out of the hospital."

"How does it make you feel?"

"How do you think it makes me feel?" Tony asked, matching the doctor’s clinical tone.

"Agent DiNozzo," Doctor Lee sighed heavily and removed her glasses. "We’ve talked about this."

"Avoidance behavior," Tony quoted. "Yes, I believe we have talked about this. I should open up to you and tell you my deepest, darkest emotions instead of hiding behind macho, immature, and/or sexist comments."

"Get back to the dream."

"I uh… I’ve come to conclusion the dream is more like a memory that I lost somehow. And that makes me feel confused and scared and really, really pissed off."

"That’s better," Doctor Lee approved. "What I’m hearing you say is that the dream feels very real to you."

"Well that may be what you’re hearing, but what I’m saying is: it really happened," Tony countered, finally swinging his legs down as he sat up to look at her. "I just don’t understand how I could have forgotten it all these years."

"You’re serious."

Tony nodded and blew out a breath. "It wouldn’t have been the first time my fellow police detectives pounded on me."

"What about the arm?"

"I pulled back the tarp a little. It was a woman. She was lying in a pile of trash and I couldn’t find a pulse. I’m not sure what happened after that."

Doctor Lee flipped back through her notes to some of the earlier sessions. "You’ve spoken briefly of being ‘hazed’ when you first became a detective. That was what? Twelve years ago?"

"Something like that."

She closed her notebook and folded her hands in her lap. "If this is a memory, and I’m not sure it is…"

"I am."

"Well if it is, there’s not really anything you can do about it now. You’ll have to find a constructive way to make peace with it."

"Nothing I can do?" Tony asked, slipping into his annoyingly chipper persona as he slipped back into his shoes. "Ha! Who puts the ‘I’ in NCIS? Investigate, that’s what I do, Freud-etta." He dropped the silly grin and added seriously, "There’s no statute of limitations on murder."

Doctor Lee winced at yet another new nickname. "A dead body doesn’t necessarily indicate murder."

"The tarp indicates concealment. People usually don’t conceal accidents, not unless they’re culpable somehow."

"I suppose you would know better than I about that," Doctor Lee conceded with a glance at the clock above the couch. "Time’s almost up but there are a couple more things… How are your co-workers treating you since you’ve been back?"

"Well you know I’m still mostly on desk duty, but Kate and McGee seem to be walking on eggshells. They’re both a little overprotective, I guess. Gibbs is… Gibbs."

"There’s something else I need to discuss with you before you go." Doctor Lee leaned forward and took Tony’s hand. "I’m resigning your care."

"I’m cured?" Tony joked, suspicious of the unprecedented physical contact.

"We don’t say cured. We’re talking about a continuum of mental health."

"So I’m back on the sane side of the continuum then?"

Doctor Lee huffed. "Although you’ve worked through a lot of the recent ugliness in your life you have several more issues you need to deal with for your own well-being. Not the least of which are your intimacy issues, your mommy issues, and your unhealthy preoccupation with movies."

"I do not have mommy issues."

"And I meant to ask earlier, are you still hiding in the supply room?"

"I don’t hide. I just go there to clear my head. And it’s not a supply room; it’s a janitor’s closet."

"What’s the difference?"

"A supply room has paper and office supplies. A janitor’s closet has mops and cleaning fluids. And toilet paper. Thirty-eight rolls to be exact. It never changes, always thirty-eight rolls right there on the shelf…"

"Tony," Doctor Lee scolded as she squeezed his hand to get his attention.

"You don’t want to see me any more."

"It’s not like that," Doctor Lee assured uncomfortably as a blush crept up her cheeks. "I just don’t feel I can maintain a desired level of objectivity with you any longer."

"Oh, I get it! I know what this is about." Tony laughed as comprehension dawned. "You’re attracted to me."

"I am not," Doctor Lee denied as she snatched her hand away. "But I do think you would do better with a male therapist."

"Because you’re distracted by my charm and wit," Tony teased as he hit her with one of his sexy smiles.

"I’ll transfer your records to Doctor Walters as soon as possible." Doctor Lee moved back to her desk, putting some distance between them. "You’ll have to call his office for an appointment. The switchboard can give you his extension."

"Come on, Doc… Doctor," Tony corrected himself compulsively. His grin faded at his slip but he quickly recovered his impudence. "Admit it. How do I make you feel?"

"Maybe I have had a few inappropriate thoughts," Doctor Lee admitted with a great deal of reluctance. "And no, that does not mean I’ll have dinner with you."

"I wouldn’t dream of asking," Tony lied as he batted his eyes innocently. "I’ve told you waaaay too many of my sexual fantasies. You’d take advantage of me."

Doctor Lee finally smiled, shaking her head in defeat. "I do care about you, Tony. I think you’re a good person who’s been hurt a lot in life. It amazes me the lengths you go to keep anyone from seeing that pain."

Tony faltered for a moment then merely nodded before getting to his feet and heading to the door. He stopped and turned around. "I need a favor."

"Tony…"

"Two weeks, that’s all I’m asking. I’ve already been cleared physically."

"You want two weeks to investigate the woman in the alley."

Tony nodded again.

"It will look bad in your folder if I put you on a psych suspension."

"I don’t care."

"I’ll think about it," Doctor Lee promised, earning a genuine smile from Anthony DiNozzo for the very first time. "Wow. I made the right decision," she muttered to herself when he was gone.

"I was the one who lost it. Tony was fine with the whole Thomas thing until I had to go and bring up Kenny." McGee moaned as Abby rubbed his tense shoulders.

Abby finished with a pat to the top of his head then moved to lean against the filing cabinet while coyly playing with a pigtail. "Kenny’s always gonna be a sore spot for Tony. I think he thinks he could have done something if he’d have tried harder to find out where the angels were coming from."

"He did everything he could do," McGee said as he turned to study his friend. "Something’s different."

"Yeah," Abby prodded expectantly, still toying with her hair.

"Did you lose weight?"

"McGee!"

"Purple highlights," Tony noted as he came around the corner and dropped into his chair. "I like," he added with a seductive little purr deep in his throat, giving no indication how much of the conversation he might have heard.

"Thank you, Tony." Abby beamed, sparing an offended glare in McGee’s direction.

"What?" McGee squinted as he leaned in for a closer look. "How can you tell? It looks the same to me."

"It would," Tony replied with a smirk as he propped his feet on his desk.

"Speaking of bottled blondes," Abby redirected the conversation as she wandered closer to Tony.

"Were we?" Tony asked mildly. "Speaking of bottled blondes?"

"I hear Sheila Smith has finally forgiven you."

Tony stared at McGee pointedly. "Is that what you hear?"

"I didn’t say anything about Sheila Smith," McGee quickly protested his innocence.

"He didn’t," Abby agreed. "Yet. I heard about it upstairs. I came down to pump him for information."

"Wait a minute," McGee interrupted. "Sheila Smith is a bottled blonde?"

"Ya think?" Tony laughed.

"Seriously, how can you tell?" McGee questioned, glancing back and forth from Tony to Abby.

"Well, you can look at her hair," Tony said. "But obviously that method doesn’t work for you. There are, however, other indicators."

"Like what?"

"The carpet doesn’t match the drapes," Abby supplied with a conspiratory grin at Tony.

"I was thinking more along the lines of short, dark roots."

"Oh. But they don’t, do they?" Abby pressed. "Match, I mean."

"Hardwood floors," Tony stage whispered back to her. "Not even a throw rug."

"Huh?"

"Give him a minute," Tony told Abby as they both turned to watch McGee puzzled out the word play.

Thirty seconds later McGee’s ears began to turn red.

"And we have comprehension," Abby declared gleefully.

"Comprehension about what?" Gibbs asked as he went straight to his desk, opened his desk drawer and pulled out his weapon.

"Hey, boss. We were just giving McGee a little tutorial on women’s hair color."

Gibbs narrowed his gaze in Abby’s direction then gave an approving nod as he shoved his gun into his holster. "Purple? Looks good, Abs. Where’s Kate?"

"Uh, she had a doctor’s appointment this morning?" McGee provided in bemusement as he watched a thoroughly vindicated Abby walk off.

"Oh that’s right," Tony said. "It is time for her yearly."

"Yearly what?"

"You know, stirrup time. Quack, quack," Tony grinned as he opened and closed his hand in a duck bill gesture.

"She said she had allergies," McGee disagreed.

"Oh really," Tony drawled. "And just how many times this week have you seen Agent Todd sneeze, Probie?"

"None," McGee admitted with some aggravation. "But that doesn’t mean…"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, boss. What have we got?" Tony asked, shooting McGee one last obnoxious look.

"Date rape. The alleged perp is a sailor."

Tony’s face lost all animation as he dropped his feet to the floor and opened the drawer to take out his gun. When he looked up Gibbs was standing at his desk. "I can do this," Tony insisted, sliding his weapon into place.

"I know that, DiNozzo," Gibbs agreed without hesitation. "But technically, until I get the final clearance from Doctor Lee, you’re still riding a desk."

"It’s just an interview."

Gibbs wiped a hand down his face and stared at Tony for a minute. "Is there any reason Doctor Lee might not sign off on your full reinstatement?"

"Not that I’m aware of," Tony came back guilelessly. "But who knows with shrinks. It’s either him or me, boss." He lifted an eyebrow towards McGee who stood at the ready with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, what’s wrong with me?"

"Have you ever interviewed a rape victim?" Gibbs asked.

"I, uh… no. Not yet. But I’ve studied the logistics and I’m very sensitive to their, that is the victim’s… feelings and ah, emotions in the aftermath of the… attack."

Gibbs sighed and moved towards the elevator. "Come on then." Tony and McGee pointed at each other questioningly. "Both of you," Gibbs clarified without looking back.

Tony let out a triumphant "Ha!" as he grabbed his bag and jockeyed for position, racing McGee to the elevator. Tony got there first and slammed into the back corner, not missing the grin Gibbs tried to hide as he turned to face the closing doors. He waited until McGee also faced front to swallow the lump rising in his throat.

The local PD held them up for a moment outside the perimeter but as soon as jurisdiction was established the team quickly passed through. When they entered the tiny duplex a young woman with damp hair stared at them apprehensively from the edge of the bed, drawing her robe a little tighter. The female police officer with her glanced over her shoulder into the livingroom then got to her feet to head them off, tugging the door almost shut behind her.

"Crap," Gibbs muttered to his agents at the sight of the freshly scrubbed victim. "There goes any DNA evidence. NCIS," he told the lady cop, flashing his shield when she reached them. "Give me a rundown."

"No problem. The vic’s name is Lisa Carter. She went out to dinner last night with a guy she knows casually, but as far as she was concerned it wasn’t a ‘date’ date," the officer reported making quote signs in the air. "When he brought her home they said good-bye at the door but he pushed his way in when she wouldn’t kiss him."

"The detective outside said they believe the perp is a Naval officer?"

"Yes sir, but that’s all the information she’s given up on him."

"Is she injured?" Tony asked, practically staring a hole through the door. "Physically, I mean."

"She says she’s fine, even though he assaulted her repeatedly during the night, always using a condom and flushing them after. Then this morning he forced her to shower while he wiped down everything he touched with glass cleaner."

"Sounds like our boy has done this before," Gibbs said with a scowl fixed firmly in place as he turned to his team. "I’ll talk to the victim. McGee, start in here, find me some trace evidence. Tony, I want you to…"

"She won’t talk to you," the cop interrupted. "In fact she’s refusing to go to the hospital for a rape kit, not that it’ll do us any good anyway."

"She’s scared." Tony brushed past the cop and opened the door to approach the anxious woman on the bed.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs called after him, impatiently shooing the cop away and giving McGee a get-to-work glower.

"Hi," Tony said as he eased into the bedroom. Gibbs followed as far as the door. "Lisa, right?"

The girl nodded but wrapped her arms tighter around her body, refusing to look at them with her red-rimmed eyes.

"I’m going to sit here," Tony told her while edging closer. "But I’m not going to touch you. Is that all right?" She nodded again but flinched as he sat down beside her. "I’m Tony. That’s Gibbs. We’re going to catch this guy and put him away for a long, long time. But we’re going to need your help."

"I can’t," Lisa said as new tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "He said he’ll kill me."

"He can’t hurt you from jail."

"He said he has friends. He said they’ll all come back to do it again if I talk. You can’t make me."

"Go ahead and get mad," Tony soothed as he slipped off the bed to kneel in front of her, placing one hand on the bed on each side of her. "Get fighting mad, because this isn’t going to be easy. But get mad at the right person."

"He said he has friends," Lisa repeated in a soft whimper.

"DiNozzo."

"Listen to me, Lisa," Tony insisted, ignoring Gibbs’ subtle warning. "Look at me." He waited until she complied. "People like that don’t have friends. He hunts alone, he attacks alone. And I hate to put all this on you but you’re still alive. You’re hurt and you’re afraid but you are still alive. His next victim might not be so lucky."

"Tony, that’s enough."

"What if they don’t convict him?" Lisa asked as she reached out and grabbed Tony’s hands. "What if they let him out and he comes after me again?"

"I won’t let that happen."

"But what if…"

"I’ll protect you. I’ll kill him myself if I have to," Tony promised, returning the bruising grip as he stared hard into her eyes.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs moved forward and caught Tony by the back of the shirt to pull him away but Lisa refused to let go.

"You will, won’t you?" Lisa asked.

"I will," Tony swore.

"What do I do?"

"Tell us his name."

"Lieutenant Jarrod Fine," Lisa whispered as she pulled her robe out slightly to let Tony see her breasts.

Tony froze for a minute, still staring at her face before allowing himself to look, barely aware of Gibbs at his shoulder. He glanced down for a second then met her eyes again. "I want you to go with the police officer to the hospital."

"Okay," Lisa agreed as she wrapped her robe back around her. "Go get the bastard."

"We will," Gibbs told her, motioning for the cop to come back in the room. Tony stayed on his knees as they left.

"Boss, I didn’t find any prints in the livingroom and I used the black light on the carpet but there doesn’t appear to be any…

"Its okay, McGee," Gibbs replied as he watched Tony get up. "If nothing else we have bite marks on the victim."

"That’s great," McGee started. "I mean, it’s not great, it’s… I’ll keep looking," he said as he took his kit into the bathroom.

"I got here as soon as I could," Kate apologized as she came through the door. "Was that the victim I passed on the way in?"

"Take DiNozzo back to the office," Gibbs ordered without taking his eyes off of Tony who turned on his heel and headed straight out of the apartment.

"What’s going on?" Kate asked.

"Just go," Gibbs said as he went to join McGee.

When Kate got out to the porch Tony was leaning over the rail throwing up. He moved away from her when she tried to rub his back then wiped his mouth and headed for the car.

"Rookie?" an older cop asked conversationally.

"No," Kate told him as she followed Tony slowly to give him a minute. "He’s just been through a lot recently. He’ll be okay." When she reached the car Tony was sitting in the passenger side with his head in his hands. She slid behind the wheel and started the engine before turning to him.

"I want this guy," Tony said before Kate could speak.

"We’ll get him."

"We will."

By the time they reached the office Tony seemed fine, going so far as to ask about Kate’s visit to her gynecologist and make crude comments about K-Y jelly. But the banter seemed contrived and Kate kept an eye on him as he settled in at his computer to work through lunch.

When the elevator opened around three o’clock Gibbs stormed out and headed in a straight line for DiNozzo’s desk. Tony had been tightlipped about what had happened at the crime scene but it was obvious Gibbs wasn’t over it yet.

In an act of self-sacrifice Kate put herself in harm’s way and stepped in front of an angry Gibbs, causing him to stop short. "Did you find anything?"

Gibbs glared down at her, taking a moment to actually focus on her. "Not much: a partial print, a few short and curlies in the sheets. And the victim did consent to a rape kit," he admitted grudgingly with a dangerous glance in Tony’s direction.

"That’s good. Rapists have been convicted on much less."

With a non-committal grunt, Gibbs neatly side stepped her. "DiNozzo…"

"Lieutenant Jarrod Fine," Tony said smoothly as he clicked the remote and moved to stand in front of the large flat screen. Fine’s picture and service record popped up. "Or I should say former Lieutenant. He’s been busted from admin weenie down to toilet scrubber and trash picker-upper at Annapolis while he waits for his formal separation from the Navy on an ‘other than honorable’ discharge."

"On what charge?" Gibbs asked as he followed, giving Tony another look that said the matter was far from settled.

"It seems Mister Fine has a habit of biting his female subordinates and intimidating them into keeping quiet. When one woman finally made allegations against him five more came out of the woodwork."

"Six counts?" Kate exclaimed. "And all they’re doing is kicking him out of the Navy?"

"Can you say ‘Air Force Academy’?" Tony muttered darkly.

Kate shook her head in disgust. "That’s unconscionable."

"Yeah, but it adds substance to our case. He won’t skate this time," Gibbs assured.

"All we have to do is find him," Tony continued. "He didn’t show up for his trash detail this morning and they haven’t seen him at his assigned quarters. But he still has an apartment off base."

"Give Kate the address and call McGee at the lab," Gibbs ordered as he moved back toward the elevator.

"Boss. What about me?" Tony asked, his jaw tightening when Gibbs spun back around to quickly advance on him. Kate froze as she bent to get her bag.

"Where’s your head, DiNozzo?"

"On the case."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes icily. "Are you sure about that? I don’t want you making promises you can’t keep."

"I got the vic… the witness to give up the guy, didn’t I?" Tony protested. "Do you think she would have consented to the rape exam if I hadn’t made her feel safe?"

"You threatened to kill the perp," Gibbs growled, "In front of the victim and a local LEO. If something happens to Fine who do you think they’ll come looking for?"

"I didn’t mean it," Tony said tonelessly.

"Are you sure about that, Tony?" Gibbs face softened slightly as he asked. "Because I’m not. You can’t use Fine to avenge Redding."

Tony’s face paled. "I’m not… that’s not ... Didn’t you see her chest?"

"That’s why this is going to go down smooth," Gibbs said with a light tap to Tony’s cheek. "We’ve got him on the evidence; we’re not going to screw this up with a bad bust. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand. I won’t make a move without your say so."

"Get the car," Gibbs relented and dug the keys out of his pocket.

Jarrod had a sinking feeling he’d gone too far this time and he couldn’t count on his threats to keep the bitch quiet for long. The fact that his career was already over helped his decision to relocate as quickly as possible. Packing only what he could fit into his car he mentally made a list of the places he’d be welcome. It was a short list and they’d surely look at his mother’s house first anyway. Arbitrarily, he decided on Mexico instead. A fresh start would be a good thing he thought as he loaded up the car.

"Hi," a pretty brunette greeted as Jarrod stowed the last box. He stood up straight to get a better look in spite of his haste. As he closed the trunk he spotted two men approaching along either side of the car.

"Going somewhere?" the woman asked as she brought her hands out from behind her back. One held a gun, the other a badge. Jarrod cast a quick glance around for an escape route.

"Run. I dare you," the older man said with a smirk as he also leveled a Sig Sauer in Jarrod’s direction.

Overcome by panic Jarrod pushed past the woman and fled with the reckless belief that cops wouldn’t shoot him in the back.

"Boss?" someone shouted eagerly.

"Get him, DiNozzo!"

Rapid footsteps pounded the sidewalk behind him until he was hit a few seconds later with the force of a flying tackle that took them both into the grass. Jarrod gasped for breath under the weight that didn’t ease but pressed his face further into the ground.

"So you’ve got a biting fetish, Fine?" a voice whispered harshly into his ear. "Maybe we can get you a cell with Hannibal Lector."

"Watch his teeth, Tony," the older man spoke again as he sauntered over to them. "We’ll need them to match with the bite marks."

"No problem."

Jarrod winced as his arms were pulled behind him and roughly cuffed. When he was yanked to his feet the woman smiled at the younger of the two men. "Feel better?" she asked.

"Not really," the man replied as he steered Jarrod back towards the parking lot.

"Look, you guys," Jarrod began in another fit of desperation as the woman jogged ahead to pull around a black sedan parked down the street. "I don’t know what this is about but I can assure you…"

"You have the right to remain silent," the younger man snapped as he frog marched him to the curb. "I suggest you use it."

The car whipped in in front of them and Jarrod was eased into the back seat with exaggerated care but then the door was slammed shut in his face. He wiped his dirty chin on his shoulder and watched the two men hold a brief conversation which the woman joined when she got out of the car.

To his surprise she slid into the seat next to him as the older man rounded the car to take her place in the driver’s seat. "Before you get any bright ideas," he said, turning to scowl at Jarrod, "Agent Todd will hurt you worse than you can imagine if you give her any grief at all."

A moment later the other guy got in next to the driver, obviously not happy with the seating arrangements. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes front and center.

"I need to inform you of your article 32 rights," the woman said, finally speaking to Jarrod as they pulled away. He nodded as he sank further into the seat. Terribly sorry he’d been caught.

After giving Fine a friendly nudge into the interrogation room Tony looked up to see McGee scurrying down the hall towards them. He glanced at Gibbs then pulled the door shut leaving the perp on the other side still cuffed. "What’s up?"

"Director Morrow wants to see Gibbs ASAP," McGee informed them a little breathlessly.

"For what?" Gibbs grumbled. "Can it wait?"

"I don’t think so. He said to send you up to his office the instant you entered the building."

"You’re late," Tony chastised with the hint of a smile.

"Do not start the interrogation without me," Gibbs ordered, turning to look Tony straight in the eye before stalking off.

"I… I waited outside," McGee explained to a sympathetic Kate.

"We came in through the garage."

"Oh," McGee sighed. "Oh yeah, Kate, your allergist’s office called, I took a message."

Kate blinked in confusion. "My allergist?"

"Doctor Kirkpatrick? You forgot your new prescription."

"For your pill," Tony chimed in cheerfully. "Your little white allergy pill."

"Oh, right, my allergist. I left in such a hurry when I got your page I must have left it at the reception desk. Thank you, Tim," Kate said as she sent a fierce look Tony’s way. "DiNozzo!" she protested as he opened the interrogation room door. "Gibbs said not to go in there."

"No he didn’t. He said not to start the interrogation without him. I’m just going in to remove the cuffs. It wouldn’t be polite to leave the little shit all chained up."

"Tony," Kate warned again as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Shouldn’t one of us go in there with them?" McGee asked warily.

"Tony won’t do anything to him," Kate decided. "Not in full view of the observation room."

They looked at each other then scrambled for the next door down. The tech at the consol seemed calm enough as they made their way to the one-way mirror. DiNozzo had already taken the handcuffs off the perp who was now seated at the table. Meanwhile Tony looked relaxed as he leaned next to the door with one leg bent to rest his foot flat against the wall. He tapped out a little beat on his belly with his hands and seemed to be… singing.

"Gary, can you turn up the volume, please?"

"What is that?" Kate asked, looking at McGee.

Gary laughed. "That’s the theme to ‘Magnum, P.I.’."

They fell silent except for Gary’s occasional snicker, but Tony kept going.

"Okay, that’s annoying," Kate replied after several nonstop renditions.

"I think that’s the point," McGee commiserated. "I’m just not sure if it’s for us or for him," he added with a nod of his head towards the suspect.

"Both, I’m sure."

On the other side of the glass Fine fidgeted in his seat. "Hey," he finally said. "I want my lawyer."

Tony ignored him and switched tunes.

"Charlie’s Angels?" McGee guessed.

"Starsky and Hutch," Gary corrected with an indignant sniff.

Kate rolled her eyes. "You and DiNozzo get along really well, don’t you, Gary?"

"Sure, Tony’s great. I bet he does ‘Hawaii Five-0’ next. Oh! Or ‘Shaft’. ‘Shut yo mouth!’"

"Torture by sitcom," Kate bemoaned.

"Sitcom?" Gary sputtered. "Sitcom!? He’s not humming ‘Three’s Company’ in there. Those are one hour police dramas."

"’Starsky and Hutch’ was a drama?"

"Police drama."

"I stand corrected." Kate held her hands up in surrender. "Who would have thought there could be two of you?"

"Maybe he’ll do ‘Baretta’," McGee suggested. "What?" he asked at Kate’s incredulous stare. "I watched it when I was a kid."

"Yeah, yeah," Gary agreed swiveling around in his seat to talk to McGee. "With the bird and the disguises and his informant, what was his name?"

"Rooster?"

"Yeah, Rooster."

"’Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time’," McGee quoted with a grin.

Kate gaped at them for another minute before turning back to the mirror where Fine was getting antsy.

"Hey!" Fine shouted as he got out of his chair and pointed at Tony. "I’m talking to you."

Dropping the musical interlude, Tony folded his hands together across his stomach as he studied Fine like a piece of gum on the bottom of his designer shoe.

Tony snorted but didn’t offer any other comment.

"I didn’t do anything wrong," Fine rambled as he began to wander along the back wall. "You’re a guy, you know how it is."

"How is it?" Kate asked rhetorically while Tony remained silent on the other side of the glass.

Kate jumped and felt McGee bristle beside her as Fine rounded the table to confront Tony face to face. DiNozzo didn’t react except to put his foot back on the floor and distribute his weight evenly.

"All she had to do was kiss me," Fine continued, turning away to pace with his growing agitation. "I probably would have walked away happy with that, but no. She had to pull away like I was diseased or something. All I wanted was a kiss."

"And a bite, no doubt," McGee suggested.

"Oh, here we go," Kate retorted crossly. "Blame the victim."

"We got him," McGee said just as the door opened and Gibbs stormed in.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled into the intercom. "Step out."

Inside the interrogation room Tony stared dispassionately at Fine for another minute before he turned and left.

"Fine hung himself," Kate offered, trying to cool Gibbs down.

Gibbs disregarded her input and yanked the door open again to meet Tony in the hall. "Weapon and badge," he demanded without preamble.

"You said don’t interrogate, I didn’t…"

"Why didn’t you tell me Doctor Lee was going to put you on suspension?"

"Oh," Tony mouthed in surprise as he tugged out his gun and handed it over butt first.

"You didn’t know?" Gibbs questioned, calming slightly at Tony’s reaction.

"I knew she was thinking about it," Tony answered honestly.

"Dammit, DiNozzo," Gibbs grumbled. "You should have warned me. This could come back and bite us on the ass."

"Well that’s certainly ironic. I’m sorry, boss. I got wrapped up in the case and I guess I put it out of my mind."

Gibbs blew out a breath. "When will you see her again?"

"Doctor Lee? I won’t. She’s turning me over to someone else."

"Why? Did you piss her off?"

"Not any more than any other woman," Tony shrugged, "Less than Kate on a normal day."

"Son of a bitch," Gibbs muttered in exasperation as he stopped to think. "Okay, that may work in our favor if she’s doing this out of spite. I’ll talk to her."

"Uh, don’t do that, Gibbs," Tony hedged as he fished out his badge and handed it over as well. "I’ll just take a couple weeks and this will all blow over."

"It’s not that simple. But for now just go home until I can figure something out."

"I didn’t say anything to him. Not a word," Tony reported as he thumbed at the interrogation room door.

"That’s probably a good thing," Gibbs replied.

"I’ll just… I’ll go."

"Tell me the truth, Tony. Are you really okay?"

Tony shrugged again. "Yeah, I think I’m better today than I have been in a long time. It did me a world of good to tackle that jerk."

"You didn’t want to blow him away?"

"Off and on."

"Yeah, me too," Gibbs admitted. "Go home. I’ll take care of things on this end."

Tony gave a little salute as he backed down the hall before turning to go. Gibbs watched him disappear around the corner before stepping back into the observation room. "Let me see what happened while I was gone," he requested as Kate and McGee exchanged worried glances.

"Tony?" Kate finally asked as Gary brought up the taped non-interrogation.

"He’s gonna take a few days," Gibbs said, managing a small smile at the play back. "What the hell is he doing?"

"Fine’s JAG counsel is here. It’s a Commander Keihl, the same one who defended him on his previous charges according to his file," Kate reported as she covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Send him up."

"Her."

Gibbs paused then gave Kate a look of pointed indifference as to the lawyer’s gender.

"Have her escorted to interrogation," Kate told the receptionist before hanging up. "Don’t you think it’s odd that he has a female lawyer, considering his penchant for biting women?"

"Maybe that’s deliberate," McGee postulated, "To present him as being harmless."

"Possibly. Keihl must be good if she’s kept him out of jail so far."

"Well he is getting kicked out of the Navy."

"But he deserved brig time."

Tuning out the conversation, Gibbs turned back to Gary. "Show me that last part again." He rubbed his face after watching the end of the video a second time. "That’s pretty damning. But it’s not an outright confession."

"It’s close," Kate said. "Add that to the bite mark evidence and the victim’s testimony and it’s a slam dunk."

"Not if the Commander finds out DiNozzo was suspended at the time of the arrest," Gibbs countered. "That has the potential to complicate things."

"Well it’s not like Tony abused him or anything." Kate reasoned, adding acerbically, "Unless you count the serenade."

They all turned at the tap on the door. "That must be Keihl now."

Gibbs stepped out into the hall and gave the Naval officer an assessing once over which was returned with a challenging raise of an eyebrow. Keihl could only be described as a sturdy woman and looked like she could hold her own with any perp. "Commander, I’m Special Agent Gibbs. Your client is this way."

"If I find out you questioned him without me present there’ll be hell to pay," Keihl started with a threat.

Gibbs ushered her toward the next room and opened the door. "Nobody questioned him. Did they, Fine?"

"Where have you been?" Fine accosted Keihl as soon as he saw her. "There was this crazy guy…"

"Zip it, Jarrod," Keihl advised, urging him back into his chair. "At least until I can make sure we have some privacy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Gibbs retorted as he turned to the mirror and made a cutting motion across his throat. "There, your attorney/client privilege is intact."

"You don’t understand, that dude was nuts!"

"Did he harm you?"

"No, he didn’t say anything, he just kept humming show tunes and shit."

Keihl did a double take. "Show tunes? As in Broadway show tunes?"

"No, man, like TV," Fine explained worriedly.

"So?"

"So I might have said something I shouldn’t have."

"Because some cop sang to you? Are you that stupid?"

"I couldn’t help it, he got me all rattled. I told you, he was crazy."

"Crazy like a fox," Keihl said. "Do you mind?" she snapped at Gibbs as he still stood in the doorway.

Gibbs backed out and closed the door. "Crazy like a fox," he repeated to himself, fully realizing what had been bothering him since he left Morrow’s office. Aside from some odd behavior regarding the janitor’s closet and possibly offending his therapist, Tony hadn’t done anything to merit a suspension. But neither had he protested too hard at the prospect. "What are you up to, DiNozzo?"

"Gibbs?" Kate asked as McGee followed her into the hall.

"This might take a while. Have Gary call when Keihl is finished," Gibbs instructed as he strode off down the hall. "Meanwhile get back to work."

"Where are you going?"

"To put out some fires."

"Does Doctor Lee have a minute?" Gibbs asked, displaying his most disarming smile as he approached the psychiatrist’s secretary. He knew it was one of Tony’s favorite tricks but Gibbs was no slouch in the charm department either -- when he set his mind to it. Although, admittedly, on at least three occasions he could think of, it worked a little too well.

"You just missed her," the secretary informed him, raising two fingers as though she were holding a cigarette. "She stepped out for a minute. Would you like to wait?"

Gibbs gave her a wink. "No thanks, maybe I’ll catch her later."

"Okay, have a nice day then," the girl said brightly, a slight blush rising on her cheeks at the attention.

"Too late for that," Gibbs muttered under his breath as he quickly backtracked.

On his way in he had noticed the exit at the end of the hall slowly closing itself. Stopping to listen at the top of the stairwell he heard the distinctive clack of high heels on the concrete steps. He’d only met Lee a handful of times but the petite woman always seemed to have stilettos strapped to her feet. Out of habit he kept his own descent quiet.

He continued to follow when the footsteps continued past the first floor landing that led to the nearest public smoking area and down to the garage. Gibbs could hear an engine idling somewhere near the bottom of the stairs. "Hey," an easily recognizable voice echoed up from below.

Gibbs squatted on the steps just low enough to peek through the rails. He could clearly see Lee’s shapely lower legs when a pair of grass-stained, denim covered knees stepped into view.

"Thanks for meeting me."

"Did you change your mind?"

"No, I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing before I file the final paperwork. It’s not too late."

"I need to do this."

His suspicions that something was up confirmed, Gibbs got to his feet to confront the two schemers.

"Take leave then, don’t mar your record."

"I would if I could but I’ve already used up my time off and I don’t have a real reason for emergency leave."

"Murder isn’t a good enough reason?"

Gibbs froze on the steps.

"Even you said it might not be a real memory."

"So leave it alone."

"I can’t."

There was a heartfelt sigh and then Lee said what Gibbs knew she would. "Okay."

"Look, I gotta get out of here before anyone sees me but when I get back I’ll take you out to dinner. Just to show my thanks," Tony said. There was a brief pause and then the slamming of a car door.

Gibbs trotted down the last few steps.

"Tony," Lee called after the car as it sped around the corner and up to the street.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled too late, coming to a halt beside the startled doctor.

Lee snatched her hand away from her cheek and spun around to Gibbs. "You scared me," she said guiltily as she got a good look at him. "Jethro Gibbs, right? You’re Agent DiNozzo’s supervisor."

"You wanna tell me what this is about or should we go straight to Morrow?" Gibbs asked as he pulled out his phone and tried Tony’s cell, unsurprised that it went unanswered.

"Ethically I can’t tell you or the director anything that came out in a session," Lee stated with a bit of false bravado.

"No? How does conspiracy fit in with your professional ethics?" Gibbs demanded.

"There’s no conspiracy," Lee stammered.

"What do you call it? You’re not suspending DiNozzo because he’s unstable or because he pissed you off," Gibbs began, putting two and two together. "You’re suspending him because he asked you to."

"He’s got some things to work out."

"Like murder?"

Lee further stiffened. "Just how much did you hear?"

"Enough. Look, Tony is an integral part of my team. I don’t want to lose him because he went rogue on somebody’s ass."

"I honestly don’t believe he’ll do anything rash."

"Because he’s not crazy."

"We don’t say crazy…"

"Doctor Lee, I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say," Gibbs cautioned. "Are you listening?"

Lee clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

"I don’t care what you have to say or what you have to do, but you will pull that suspension."

"But…"

"Uh uh," Gibbs interrupted with a raised finger. "Do you understand?"

"What about Tony?"

"I’ll take care of DiNozzo," Gibbs promised. "Just tell me, do you actually know what he’s planning to do?"

"No. And if I did, I really couldn’t divulge that information."

"That’s all right, I have other means."

"If I take care of the suspension Tony’s not going to be very happy about it."

Gibbs turned and walked back toward the stairs. "Make it go away," he warned one last time without looking back.

Doctor Lee watched him go before blowing out the breath she’d been holding. "I need a cigarette."

"McGee," Gibbs barked as he passed the junior agent’s desk on the way to Tony’s empty one.

"Fine is still conversing with his lawyer…"

Gibbs made a dismissive hand gesture. "I want to know what DiNozzo was working on."

"Uh, as far as I know he was working on the rape case…"

"Prior to that."

"Oh. How do I…"

"His computer, McGee." Gibbs pulled out Tony’s chair and motioned Tim over to it. "Do whatever it is you do and tell me what DiNozzo has been researching since he’s been back."

"What’s going on?" Kate asked. She left her own work space to join them as McGee apprehensively slid into Tony’s chair.

"It’s going to be password protected," McGee spoke quickly in order to actually finish a sentence.

"Try Pamela Sue Anderson," Kate suggested. "I seem to remember Tony going off on an implant tangent on the first."

"What?" Gibbs asked curtly.

"Well, as you know, it is procedure to change our passwords on the first day of the month," McGee explained as he cupped his hands in front of his chest. "That morning Tony was talking about relative shapes and sizes of…"

"Just try it."

McGee dropped his hands and hastily typed in the name. "Nope, that’s not it. I’ll keep trying," he said before Gibbs could comment, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Try Pam Anderson, or Pamela Anderson Lee," Kate guessed. "No, he wouldn’t use her married name. Oh, and there has to be at least one special character in it."

"I know, I know."

"What are we looking for anyway?"

"I’ll know when we find it. Anything, McGee?"

"Not yet, I…"

"Call Abby."

"Wait. That’s it; Pamela Sue with an underscore between the names." McGee looked up expectantly. "But should we really…"

"I am DiNozzo’s supervisor," Gibbs cut him off yet again. "Anything in there is my business. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I wasn’t suggesting…"

"What have we got? Recent."

"Ah, as expected he ran a check on Jarrod Fine this morning…"

"Before that McGee!"

"Right, boss… uh… he’s been searching Baltimore missing persons records from the last week of May and the first week of June of ninety-four. And he’s got a list of Jane Does in the morgue for that same period and the next few months following."

"Print those. What else?"

"He’s done some criminal and personal background checks on four people; Richard ‘Rick’ Vargas, Darren Joseph Holder, Jr., Jason L. Thompson, and a George Leo DeSanto."

"DeSanto," Gibbs echoed thoughtfully as he sank down to the edge of Tony’s desk.

"Ninety-four? That’s the year after the Godwin murders," Kate mused.

"But it’s also the year Tony began getting the angels."

"I think I know what this is about," Gibbs said. "In early June of ninety-four DiNozzo was hospitalized for three days after getting beat up on the job."

"When he was police officer," Kate put in.

"No, he’d already made detective by then. In fact it was the rest of his squad that did the beating."

"Why?" Kate gasped. "Poor Tony. I hope they lost their shields."

"Nope. DiNozzo didn’t rat them out. It was officially written up as an attack by unknown assailants."

"Oh good grief, don’t give me that thin-blue line crap."

"Like it or not, Kate, that’s the way it still works in a lot of places. You don’t give up your brothers in arms."

"Boss?" McGee interrupted for a change. "This morning Tony bought a plane ticket for Atlanta. It leaves in two hours."

"Get me on that flight. And I want a copy of everything Tony saved recently that doesn’t relate to our current case files," Gibbs ordered as he headed for the stairs. "Kate, you’ll be in charge until I get back. I need to talk to Morrow."

McGee blinked at the computer screen. "He probably didn’t mean this article on Kegle exercises."

"Probably not," Kate agreed as she went to her phone then stopped. "Why would Tony… never mind. I don’t want to know."

Tony took one look at the long line waiting to go through security and slumped into a seat. Dropping his carryall between his feet, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He realized he’d probably just ended his career and yet he couldn’t think of another way. Several minutes later someone sat next to him but in spite of his annoyance he simply ignored them. Right up until they swatted the back of his head.

"Gibbs?" he asked as he sat upright. "What are you doing here?"

"Give me that." Gibbs grabbed Tony’s boarding pass and traded it with another one.

"I don’t understand."

"I’m not sitting in the middle. I’m taking the aisle seat."

Tony gaped at him. "Uh… Where are you going?"

"The ticket says Atlanta." Gibbs waved a manila folder under Tony’s nose. "I understand Leo DeSanto bought a bar and retired down there five or six years ago. Come on." He got up and walked away from the security area.

After looking around for a second in confusion Tony followed Gibbs into the men’s restroom. He fumbled to catch the badge that was flung at him as soon as he stepped around the corner.

"Take off your coat," Gibbs instructed as he sat his small duffle on the sink and dug out a shoulder holster. Tony’s very own shoulder holster, in fact. The one he’d left at his apartment over an hour earlier. "Mrs. Bornemeier let me in."

"But I’m suspended."

"No, you’re not. Doctor Lee and I had a little discussion on the matter."

"I see." Tony winced, imagining what that discussion might have entailed. He slipped out of his leather jacket and into his holster. "She told you about my dream."

"Dream?"

"About the body in the alley."

"No, she didn’t break any confidences. All I know is that if you feel the need to go to Atlanta strong enough to screw up your psych profile…"

"I do. My gut tells me…"

"Don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Like I was saying, if you need to go to Atlanta, then you also need backup." Gibbs pulled out Tony’s gun and held it out to him. "Director Morrow concurs."

Tony gratefully took the weapon and seated it home just as a businessman came in the door.

"Federal agents," Gibbs told the wide-eyed suit as he flipped open his ID.

"Sure, whatever," the man replied doubtfully as he gave them a wide berth before disappearing into a stall complete with his laptop and rolling luggage.

When Tony put his jacket back on Gibbs headed out. "This isn’t really an NCIS case," Tony said as he picked up his bag and followed.

"Why not?" Gibbs asked, picking up the pace as their flight was called. "It involves an NCIS agent."

"I’m not even sure there was a crime."

"Oh, there was a crime, all right." Gibbs led the way past the line straight to the metal detector. "Law enforcement," he told the large security officer who stepped into his path. "We have carry permits."

"We still need to scan your carryon items."

"Some things never change," Tony sighed.

"You’re already letting us on with weapons. Why would we hide anything else?"

"This way," the guard said, motioning them towards a table for a search instead.

Gibbs rolled his eyes but gruffly allowed the lady at the table to go through his stuff. Tony smiled at her and was done in half the time.

"Have a nice flight," she called after them as they raced for the terminal.

"Hi Abby," Kate greeted without looking up at the musical jingle of chains that approached her desk.

"Abs?" McGee sounded concerned as he got up and came over as well, bringing Kate’s head up abruptly.

"What’s going on, guys?" Abby asked, obviously disturbed about something as she fiddled with the links of her elaborate belt.

Kate shrugged in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"I heard Tony’s about to get canned because he went nutso on his therapist."

"That’s not true," Kate assured. "In fact he just went to Atlanta with Gibbs on a cold case."

"Or, more precisely, Gibbs went to Atlanta with Tony."

"Well, yeah," Kate agreed, pointing at Tim with her pen.

"Oh," Abby sighed in relief. "Because a certain someone is spreading a rumor that… oh damn, here he comes now."

McGee turned to follow Abby’s glower, making an unconscious fist as Martin Thomas lumbered towards them. An expert at reading body language, tempered by the fact that she’d already heard about the earlier altercation, Abby steered Tim back to his desk and gave him a not-so-gentle push toward his chair. "Sit. Stay," she warned him as Thomas arrived, oblivious to the tension he created.

"Hello cats and kittens."

"What do you want, Thomas?" Kate asked dismissively as she went back to her paperwork.

Thomas zeroed in on Kate, turning his back on Abby and McGee thereby missing Abby’s silent mockery of his overbearing manner. McGee tried not to laugh out loud, but not too hard, earning a bemused over-the-shoulder glance from Thomas. Not a total idiot, Thomas gave Abby a suspicious lift of the chin before shifting his attention back to Kate. "Yo, Katie, is Gibbs around?"

"No."

"When will he be back?"

Kate sighed before answering curtly. "Tomorrow."

"That’s okay, doll, it can wait. See, I heard there’s an opening on his team," Thomas declared with a sneer in the direction of Tony’s desk.

"You want to work for Gibbs." Kate finally looked up with an incredulous stare.

"He is the best."

"And he only works with the best," Ducky explained benevolently, taking off his hat as he joined them at Kate’s desk. "I’m afraid you don’t qualify."

"Go Ducky!" Abby exclaimed with an irreverent whoop that had heads turning.

"For the record," McGee stated as he put his feet on his desk and his hands behind his head, a` la Tony, "There is no opening."

"Nope."

"’Fraid not."

"We’ll see about that," Thomas harrumphed as he stalked off.

"Creep," Kate muttered under her breath.

"Quite," Ducky concurred with a sniff of disdain.

"Oh, Ducky," Kate said, remembering her manners. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I came to collect Abby."

"Cool. Uh… why?" Abby asked as she slipped her arm through his and let him escort her to the elevator.

"I require your assistance. I’ve been requested to procure a dental mold from a suspect and, ironically, Mr. Palmer is away at the dentist…"

As soon as they were in the air Gibbs handed over the fairly thick mystery folder. Tony grimaced as he thumbed through it. "Obviously I need to clean up my hard drive," he replied, taking the invasion of his personal archives in stride.

Gibbs snorted lightly in agreement. "A little organization wouldn’t kill ya."

"Hey, just remember I’ve seen your files, too."

"Weed out the stuff that doesn’t apply."

With an annoyed glance at the woman next to him who appeared more interested in their conversation than the view out the window, Tony licked his finger and began to sift through the data. He quickly finished with the text material and moved on to the pictures. "That’s trash. That’s irrelevant. Uh oh, how’d that get in there? That one’s personal."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, boss," Tony apologized as he took the lurid photograph and folded it carefully before slipping it into his pocket and continuing his sorting. "Oh," he exclaimed a few pages in. "This is her."

"Who?"

"Our victim," Tony explained as he pulled the image to the top of the stack. "That’s the face in my dreams. Only more bloated. But I guess a week in the Potomac will do that to you."

His nosy neighbor gasped as she caught sight of the morgue photo. Gibbs glared at her until she gulped and turned away, suddenly finding the clouds very interesting.

"Jane Doe two-thirteen," Gibbs read. "Are you sure you didn’t just see the picture and then dream it?"

"No. I’d been having the same nightmare for weeks before I started to think it might be a memory. That’s when I starting looking. I recognized her as soon as I saw the drawer pic."

"Start from the beginning," Gibbs requested as Tony closed the file.

Aware of his unwanted observer, Tony kept his voice low. "You read my personnel file, after my big promotion."

"It seems that you were quite the klutz. A lot of emergency room visits."

"Just three," Tony shrugged, embarrassed, "not counting the last one."

"You mean the one where you came in by ambulance in a coma?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Hmm."

"I really didn’t remember much about it," Tony tried to explain, "Not until after… not until recently."

"That’s not so unusual," Gibbs soothed. "The mind will do what it has to to protect itself, you know that."

"Yeah, but it’s easier when it’s happening to someone else."

"Nobody wants to be a victim, Tony. Tell me what you do remember and we’ll go from there."

DeSanto’s Place wasn’t much to look at but the pungent odor of marijuana smoke, urine, and stale grease was hard to ignore. Tony tugged off his shades and exchanged a disgusted glance with Gibbs as he tucked them into his pocket. The middle-aged working girl who sat rubbing her feet at a table near the door let her gaze linger appreciatively as they passed her by.

The only other patrons in the bar were a pair of bikers who leaned against a pool table in the corner, clearly not playing eight ball. Drunk and high, they giggled incessantly and passed a loaded roach-clip back and forth between them, oblivious to anyone or anything else in the room.

"A coat of paint, a couple hundred gallons of Lysol," Tony commented with a shrug as he looked around, "And this place could be upgraded to dump status."

"I don’t know," Gibbs scoffed. "Is Lysol flammable? I’m thinking the best way to upgrade around here includes arson."

Tony froze mid-snicker as an old man came out of the back room, struggling to carry half a case of beer while he pulled a portable oxygen tank behind him. "Welcome to happy hour," the emaciated man grunted. "What can I do for you two fine looking detectives?"

"What makes you think we’re cops?" Gibbs asked as he casually wiped a stool with a handkerchief before taking a seat.

DeSanto guffawed but the laugh quickly turned into a hacking cough and it took several seconds before he could answer. "Gee, I dunno. You boys fit right in with my usual clientele." Using his knee he practically drop-kicked the beer onto a low shelf behind the bar. The bottles rattled violently but somehow didn’t shatter. Apparently satisfied with the outcome DeSanto glanced up and took a better look at Tony. "Hey, kid. Long time no see," he muttered in surprised guilt.

"You look like shit, Leo."

"I got the big ‘C’ right after I retired," DeSanto wheezed as he turned off his tank and lit up a cigarette. "Ain’t that a pisser?"

"Go figure," Gibbs snarked, moving down a stool and away from the smoke and possible explosion.

The old man curled a lip in Gibbs’ direction but focused his watery, red eyes on DiNozzo. "What do you want, Tony? You wanna take me out back and kick the shit out of me?"

"No," Tony denied, pulling a face as DeSanto furiously tried to cough up a lung. "Well, maybe a little, but I won’t."

"I’ve suffered, if that’s any consolation. And I’ll be dead soon enough."

"No doubt about that," Gibbs agreed coolly. "Maybe you should think about clearing the air before you go to meet your Maker."

"You still with NCIS, kid?" DeSanto asked softly, ignoring Gibbs and eyeing Tony with something strangely akin to affection. Tony nodded as he slid the photo of Jane Doe number two-thirteen across the bar. DeSanto sighed as he picked it up. "Brandy," he identified her immediately. "So this ain’t a social call."

"Brandy what?" Gibbs asked, pulling out a pad and pen.

"Like I remember her last name? I’m not even sure I ever knew it. She gave a hell of a blow, though. We used to pull her in once or twice a week for a round of freebies."

"You were on the take," Tony accused with a look that said his esteem for the older man had fallen even more.

"Is that really such a shocker?" DeSanto asked defensively. He leaned forward to grab Tony’s wrist where it rested on the bar. "Why do you think we tried so hard to get rid of you?"

"Let go," Gibbs warned. He tapped the back of DeSanto’s hand with his pen when he didn’t respond immediately.

DeSanto glared at Gibbs but released Tony nonetheless.

Tony stared daggers at his old boss as he straightened his sleeve. "You resented me because I took Thompson’s place."

"Thompson was a smuck," DeSanto huffed with amusement. "You were the problem. We had a good thing going until you came along."

"Can you be a little more specific?" Gibbs requested.

"Sure. Why not?" DeSanto drawled. "Let’s see… we shook down the local whores for money and favors, and we kept a portion of all the drug scores to sell and, you know, for personal use. Oh, and we pocketed a hell of a lot of cash from the local less-than-legal business establishments. And nobody was ever the wiser. Then all of a sudden there’s this media darling in our midst drawing unwanted attention from the muckety-mucks."

"So why beat the crap out of me at every opportunity? Why not just kill me?"

"Aw shit, kid, we weren’t into exterminating other cops. That’s over the line."

"You could have recruited me."

"Nah, we knew you were incorruptible. The way we heard it you walked away from money to be a cop. And you were already a lady’s man, young and good-looking, not like the rest of us ugly fucks." DeSanto interrupted himself to take a drag off his forgotten smoke before falling into another coughing fit. He eventually snuffed out the butt and turned his oxygen back on.

Tony lowered his head wearily as he turned away. "I can’t believe I didn’t know. I thought I just didn’t fit in."

"You think we hated you because you weren’t like us. That’s bullshit. We hated you because we weren’t you. We’d been dirty cops for too long, we were never gonna measure up to your standards." Lifting a fatherly hand to Tony’s shoulder in spite of Gibb’s ferocious stare, DeSanto finished. "You had instincts like I’d never seen. You would have found us out."

Tony shrugged out from under his hand.

"Hey, look, I tried to protect you. When I found out what they were planning…"

"You were there," Tony whirled back around to make eye contact. "You were in the alley that night."

"You don’t remember?"

"No."

DeSanto took a deep breath. "Just know that I would’a rather seen you dead than discredited."

"Tell me."

"You gonna read me my rights first?"

"You already know your rights," Gibbs butted in. "Anyway, you said it yourself; you won’t be around for the trial, let alone spend any time in jail."

DeSanto lurched almost to the end of his oxygen leash before digging under the counter for something. After a minute of small crashes and muttered curses he came out with a tape recorder that had seen better days. He lumbered closer and placed it on top of the bar. "We better get this down in my own words then."

Tony woke with a shout, reaching for his back to pull the weapon that wasn’t there. In the dim light he could see the barrel of a real gun pointed in his direction for half a second before it was lowered.

"Dammit, DiNozzo."

"Gibbs," Tony responded with relief, covering his eyes when the lamp between their motel room beds was snapped on.

"Dreaming again, Tony?" Gibbs asked tiredly as he sat up.

"I remember. The dream’s the same but now it comes with dialogue," Tony said as he got out of bed and went to the table where the battered tape recorder sat. He dropped into the nearest chair and hit the play button.

"It was late when I got there. You were out cold and Brandy was long dead," DeSanto’s gravely voice picked up the story. "At some point you must have pulled back the tarp because she was staring up at nothing. I put you in my car while Holder and Vargas burned the mattress then wrapped her up for a quick trip to the river. I dropped you off near a crack house and called for an ambulance from a payphone. Honestly, we didn’t think you’d live to tell the tale. And then you didn’t anyway. We always thought you were afraid…"

Gibbs reached past Tony and clicked off the tape. "We’ll turn this over to the Baltimore PD when we get home. So Holder is dead?"

"Yeah. Apparently he ate his own gun after they caught him skimming off a drug bust a few years back."

"And Vargas?"

Tony let out a bitter laugh. "He’s got DeSanto’s old job. I understand he’s got a whole wall full of commendations in his office."

"Not for long," Gibbs promised. "Let’s head on out to the airport and try to get an earlier flight home."

"Sure, boss," Tony agreed as he rewound the tape.

DeSanto woke coughing as usual. Bright midmorning sun streamed through the hole in the window shade doing nothing good for his hangover. The cheap booze had done its best but the sweet oblivion never lasted long enough, why would today be any different? Forgoing his oxygen he lit a smoke then reached for the phone. Though it had been years since he’d dialed it the number remained steady in his memory.

"Captain Vargas," a cheerful voice answered right away.

"It’s over," DeSanto declared cryptically. "My conscience is clean."

"Leo? Is that you? Leo, what did you do?"

What started as a laugh ended in broken sobs as DeSanto launched the phone through the closed window pane. It fell six feet before it ran out of cord, taking what was left of the torn shade with it to hang over the sidewalk below.

"Hey, you’re back!"

"Astute observation, Probie," Tony grumbled as he dropped his bag and yanked open his drawer to lock up his weapon.

"Somebody’s in a bad mood," Kate observed. "Things didn’t go well in Atlanta?"

"Oh, things went just peachy."

"Peachy," McGee echoed. "Get it? Georgia?"

"Yeah, I get it, Tim."

"Stop pouting and get that tape up to Abby," Gibbs ordered, coming in a second later and performing the exact same actions as Tony had, but at his own desk.

Tony’s head shot up. "I thought you said we had to turn it over to Fornell."

"After we make a copy, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as if it should have been clear all along. "You think we’re gonna risk the original going missing? Even if we do give it to the FBI Baltimore PD isn’t gonna just take this lying down."

"Well all right then." Tony perked up.

"And have Ducky take a look at Brandy’s autopsy report," Gibbs added as he headed for MTAC.

"I’m on it, boss."

"So things did go well in Atlanta," McGee sought to clarify.

"Yeah, we solved a murder and the subsequent cover-up." Tony sighed and put his carryall on top of his desk to unzip the front pocket.

"So why do you make it sound like your dog just died?" Kate queried, not unkindly.

"I gotta get this to Abby." Tony held up an old-fashioned cassette tape.

"Tony," Kate called after him as he moved away. When he stopped she didn’t seem to know what to say. The silence dragged on a little too long and Tony’s posture dared her to ask if he was okay. "Kegle exercises?" she finally questioned in her most irritated tone.

Tony broke out in a surprised grin and looked abashed for about half a second before eyeing her up and down. "You’re doing them now, aren’t you?"

"DiNozzo!" Kate gasped, playing her part to the hilt. "I can’t believe I bothered to worry about you."

McGee stifled a grin at the wink Tony gave him. As the elevator doors closed he turned to Kate more somberly. "We should have told him."

"He’ll find out soon enough."

Tony hesitated outside the sliding door to watch his favorite Goth girl dance as she worked. There was a slight vibration from the music and he could count the beat right through the soles of his shoes. It seemed so normal that he closed his eyes and absorbed the moment, letting it wash over him. Some of sadness he felt for a woman he hadn’t even remembered except in his nightmares seemed to lift. Then suddenly he had his arms full of Abby.

"Hey," he greeted, startled out of his thoughts as he returned the enthusiastic hug.

"What are you doing?" Abby interrogated as she pulled him into her inner sanctum. "I thought you were gonna stand out here all day, you big goof."

"You knew I was watching, huh?"

"Why do you think I did that little booty shake?"

"Oh? That was for me?" Tony flirted.

Abby turned down the music slightly before grabbing his arm again and leading him back to where she was working. "You know it, baby. So what’d you bring me?"

"Bring you?"

"From Atlanta."

"Abby, it was a business trip and Gibbs was not in the mood to shop," Tony told her firmly. "I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t."

"Don’t make me search you for it," Abby threatened, flexing her fingers. "On second thought, that kinda sounds like fun."

"Okay, okay," Tony gave in. He wiggled away before she could tickle him, opening his fist to reveal a silver skull and crossbones charm.

"Oh Tony! It’s beautiful," Abby cooed as she snatched it out of his hand and reached up to take off one of her hoop earrings to put it on.

"I would have thought a chain," Tony mused. "But yeah, I like your way better. Just don’t wear it yet."

"Why not?" Abby whined.

"Well I got it at the airport gift shop and I think I might have seen Gibbs buy one just like it a few minutes later."

"Awww. That’s so sweet. Maybe you could give this one to Kate? Yeah, not really her thing," she amended at Tony’s combination head tilt, raised eyebrow. "Besides, you don’t want to set a present giving precedent."

"Yeah, I wouldn’t wanna do that," Tony mocked, earning a swat on the butt.

"This way I’ll have a pair."

"There ya go."

"So what else have you got?"

"What do you mean?"

Abby flicked her gaze down to his jeans. "Is that a cassette in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Yeah, that," Tony hedged as he tugged the tape out. "Do you believe in dreams, Abs?"

"Of course I do," Abby stated seriously. "Dreams are very prophetic."

"And apparently they help you remember things, too."

"They do. One time in high school I lost my locker keys and I couldn’t find them for like… days. And then I dreamed of Colonel Sanders three nights in a row."

"Colonel Sanders."

"Sure, because I left my keys in Rose Jefferies’ car."

"Uh, at Kentucky Fried Chicken?"

"No, silly, her Uncle Terrance was dead ringer for Colonel Sanders. Swear to God."

"Okay, so the tape…"

"Is it a dream?"

Tony laughed halfheartedly before answering. "Oddly enough, it is. It’s someone else’s version of the dream I’ve been having for a while."

"So it’s personal," Abby commiserated.

"I need a copy to give to the FBI."

"Oh. Okay. I won’t listen to it if you don’t want me to."

"No, I trust you."

"Good," Abby replied as she squeezed his arm before taking the tape to her work bench. "You’re taking the Fine thing really well."

"The fine thing?" Tony scratched his ear and followed her.

"Yeah, the Jarrod Fine thing."

Tony clenched the edge of the counter. "What about him?" he asked in a voice laced with concern.

"Oops," Abby winced. "So you didn’t talk to Kate or McGee on the way in."

"Yeah, I did," Tony said nodding his head in furious little jerks. "They didn’t say anything about Jarrod Fine."

"So Gibbs probably doesn’t know yet either."

"He knows now," Gibbs groused as he entered the lab.

"What’s going on, boss?" Tony asked worriedly.

"Calm down, Tony, we’re just having a change of venue. It seems Fine’s discharge had already come through before the rape, only the paperwork got hung up in channels. The Navy has washed their hands of him and his crimes."

"So?"

"So we’re turning the case over to the civilian authorities. His arraignment is this afternoon."

"I bet they go for an insanity plea," Abby guessed with a chomp of her teeth for emphasis. "Oh yeah, and yesterday? After you left? He bit the JAG lady," she added with a huge smile.

"I understand the Commander tried to put him through a wall for it," Gibbs reported, also unable to fully suppress a grin. "I would have paid good money to see that."

"Me, too," Tony agreed with a little huff of relief. "I’d like to go to that arraignment."

"Not a chance," Gibb shot him down. "I want you to stay low profile on this one until they call you to the witness stand. Besides, I thought you wanted to go to Baltimore with me."

"We’re going today?"

"Just as soon as Abby makes us a tape."

"I’m on it, bossman."

"And you go put on a suit," Gibbs ordered lightly.

"A suit?" Tony asked, smoothing down his traveled in shirt.

"Yeah, I want you to look like a Federal Agent when you bust Vargas."

"Where’s Tony?" Kate asked when Gibbs showed up in the bullpen a little later.

"He went home."

"Again?" McGee entered the conversation abruptly, looking like he wanted to slap a hand over his mouth as soon as he spoke.

"To change," Gibbs said with his usual annoyance at having to explain. "We’re going to Baltimore."

"All of us?"

"No, just me and DiNozzo."

"What’s really going on?" Kate pressed as she approached Gibbs’ desk. "Why are McGee and I being left out of this case?"

Instead of yelling, Gibbs sighed and set a cassette tape on his desk, speaking as he opened his filing cabinet to pull out a fresh polo. "When he was first promoted to detective Tony was briefly assigned to a squad full of dirty cops before he was transferred to homicide. They knew they wouldn’t be able to stay under his radar so they tried to set him up by murdering a prostitute," he elaborated as he began to change shirts.

"And Tony didn’t do anything about it?" Kate asked in disbelief, averting her eyes only slightly from the sight of her boss’ pristine white undershirt.

"Well he would have but he got cold cocked and was out for three days. When he woke up he didn’t remember what happened."

"Until now," McGee offered tentatively.

"Yeah, recently he began to… ah, hell. He began to dream about it." Gibbs rolled his eyes as he tucked in his clean shirt and put his jacket back on.

"Recovered memories," McGee exclaimed, launching into lecture mode. "Sometimes when someone goes through a trauma it can trigger things they repressed from previous events. Like childhood abuse for instance."

"Well recovered memories are hard to prove. They don’t usually hold up very well in court," Kate pointed out.

"They won’t have, too," Gibbs said, picking up the tape and showing it to her. "We got corroboration from Tony’s old captain."

"Wow. What’d you have to do to get that? Promise him immunity from prosecution?"

Gibbs harrumphed. "That old man has a lot more to worry about than prison."

"Such as?"

"He’s dying, Kate. Lung cancer."

"So a late in life confession? Why?"

"Who knows? But you should have seen his face when he recognized DiNozzo. He was proud of him. I think he wanted to make amends, and not just because of the hell fire lapping at his feet."

"Do you really think he’ll burn?" Kate wondered. "He was a police captain, after all. He had to do some good."

"Flashing a badge won’t get you through the pearly gates," Gibbs said with a smirk. "A lot of cops are scumbags."

"Speaking of scumbags, how did Tony take the news about Fine?" McGee asked, lowering his voice when he spotted Tony getting out of the elevator.

"He understands that one jail cell is as good as another," Gibbs shrugged, also noting DiNozzo’s arrival. "And maybe it’s better this way. We all know what happens to rapists in the Federal pen."

"If they convict him," Kate replied, McGee’s throat-clearing warning coming a little too late.

Tony stopped just behind Kate’s shoulder. "Why wouldn’t they convict him?"

Kate jumped and sent a scowl Gibbs’ way as he broke into a grin at her startled reaction. "Anything can happen in the justice system, Tony," she said, turning to get a better look at him. "New suit?" she abruptly changed the subject.

"It’s Hugo Boss. You like it?"

"Very nice," Kate assured as she smoothed his tie before moving past him to get back to her desk. "Makes you look like a gigolo."

"Really? I was going for a Fox Mulder thing," Tony pouted as he fidgeted with his tie as if Kate had somehow messed it up.

Gibbs’ grin slowly faded as he shook his head while Tony secured his weapon. He handed Tony the tape on his way out. "Let’s go, Mulder."

"You know, if I’m Mulder that must make you…" Tony teased as he trotted to catch up. Gibbs halted suddenly and swiveled to stare him down. "…Skinner," Tony deadpanned, drawing up short and somehow managing not to run into him. "That’s, uh, Deputy Director Skinner. Mulder’s boss?"

With an aggrieved huff Gibbs turned and punched the button, entering the elevator when it opened without looking back. Tony gave his coworkers a thumbs-up before darting between the closing doors.

McGee stared after them, deep in thought. "You think Gibbs ever watched the X-Files?"

"I sincerely doubt it," Kate laughed.

"Because it was about the paranormal?"

"No, because it was about the FBI," Kate explained as she got back to work. "On the other hand, he does seem to have a thing for redheads."

After several minutes McGee spoke again. "Do you really think there’s a chance Fine will get off?"

"There’s always a chance. Especially if anyone outside of NCIS ever got wind of the scuttlebutt about Tony being on suspension during the arrest. Even if it was just a misunderstanding, which I’m assuming it was since he’s back so soon."

"That shouldn’t make any difference."

"Well it shouldn’t, but it might. And I’m afraid of what Tony would do if