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 will 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?"

 

"Duuun… dun dunna dunna dunna dunna dunna dun dun…"

 

"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.

 

"Look, I can’t go to jail."

 

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.

 

"They let you take ‘em out and pay for dinner but when you get ‘em home suddenly you’re not good enough. They shouldn’t tease like that."

 

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.

 

"It’s not like I really raped her or anything. You should have seen what she had on!"

 

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

 

"Sure she was all ‘stop, stop’, but it’s not like she meant it. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have bit her. I admit I went a little too far there. But do you have any idea how hard it is to find a partner that willingly lets you bite? I can’t help it, it’s a thing."

 

"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. "Agent 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. 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’s 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."

 

***

 

"You sure this is the right place?" Tony called to his partner’s back as he warily got out of the unmarked patrol car.

 

Vargas stopped at the opening of the alley and turned around to face him, a challenging grin on his face. "You doubting me, kid?"

 

"Well I don’t see any uniforms around and every time I follow you alone into the dark I end up eating a knuckle sandwich."

 

"Hey, that’s just our way of welcoming you to the squad. Fuck you if you can’t take a joke."

 

"No, fuck you, Vargas. I’m calling in to check the address." Tony opened the car door to reach for the radio when he felt a gun press against his ribcage. "Yeah, that’s what I thought," he sighed as he recognized the hulking figure at his back. "Gee, Darren, what a nice surprise to find you lurking in the shadows. Again."

 

"Come on, Pretty Boy, it ain’t gonna be so bad," Holder said with a laugh. He jerked Tony’s gun out of the holster at the small of his back then frisked him for his backup, finding it on his left ankle. Tossing both weapons into the seat of the car he grabbed Tony by the collar and roughly propelled him between the two dilapidated brick buildings. "We got a little present for ya."

 

Further down Tony could make out the form of a smallish woman leaning against the wall.

 

"Ta da!" Vargas announced proudly as he bent to whisk a blue tarp off a ratty old mattress.

 

"That’s nasty," the woman complained as she stepped into a small pool of light reflected off the wet ground. From the red hair and face that seemed older than her years Tony realized he’d seen her around the station a time or two.

 

"Shut up, Brandy. This here’s your present, DiNozzo. On us."

 

"Oh?" the hooker asked acerbically. "Are you actually paying me this time?"

 

"Yeah, I’m letting you keep your teeth, smartass. How’s that for payment?"

 

"Hey, don’t talk to her like that," Tony protested but was cut off by a kidney punch from Holder. He bit back a grunt of pain as he went to his knees.

 

"Oh geesh, guys, don’t hurt him!" Brandy objected as she rushed to Tony’s side, cupping his face in surprisingly soft hands. "He’s cute. I don’t mind, I’ll do him for free."

 

"That’s the plan."

 

"Just don’t hit him no more," she pleaded before whispering to Tony, "It’s okay, I’ll make it good for you, honey."

 

"No offense, Brandy, but I’m gonna have to pass," Tony wheezed. He used her for support as he climbed to his feet. "Thanks, but no thanks."

 

"I ain’t got no disease or nothing. I don’t do drugs and I always make my Johns use a condom unless they pay extra."

 

"No condom," Vargas insisted.

 

Brandy sighed before turning to Tony. "You’re awfully young. Are you clean? I don’t want to pick nothing up on a freebie."

 

Tony did a double take but then shook his head. "We’re not going to… just get out of here. I’ll handle these two."

 

Looking relieved, Brandy hitched her purse higher and moved as quickly as her high heeled boots would allow.

 

"Not so fast," Vargas chuckled, catching her by the hair and throwing her down on the mattress.

 

She screamed in fright and pain then raised her arm to examine a small dribble of blood. "It’s a rusty spring. Now I gotta get a tetanus shot."

 

"Take your pants off, faggot," Vargas ordered Tony. "Let’s see what ya got."

 

"No."

 

"You don’t have a choice."

 

"Aw, leave him alone," Brandy begged. "He ain’t interested. Let him go and I’ll do both of you."

 

Vargas shoved her when she tried to get up. "Just lie back down and get yourself naked, Brandy. And you lose the pants, Tony, I ain’t telling you again."

 

"Stop pushing her around," Tony warned, not complying.

 

"Looks like he wants to do it the hard way," Holder said with a grin as he shot out his left fist toward Tony’s head.

 

Tony blocked the punch and followed with one of his own to the solar plexus that caused Holder to stumble and sling the 9-mil from his other hand. The gun skittered across the asphalt to land near the mattress. Vargas was on Tony in an instant, holding his arms while Holder pounded him in the stomach.

 

"Stop it!" Brandy screamed until they let Tony fall back to the ground. "Stay down," she begged as Tony struggled to roll onto his back.

 

"Come on, Tony, just fuck her and get it over with," Vargas demanded.

 

Tony spit out a mouthful of blood. "No."

 

"Let’s just shoot him up first," Holder suggested, panting to catch his breath. He took a vial and a syringe out of his pocket. Tony let him get close before kicking out with both feet to send the larger man sprawling. The drug went flying, too, landing somewhere behind the dumpster. Holder cursed as he got up and rounded on Tony.

 

"Enough!" Brandy shouted, holding the forgotten gun in shaky hands. Before she could raise it a shot rang out and she tumbled back amidst a spray of blood.

 

"What the fuck!" Holder demanded as he scrambled over to Brandy to try and find a pulse.

 

Vargas put his weapon away while Tony stared in stunned disbelief. "It doesn’t matter, he can still do her."

 

"Are you crazy?" Holder demanded in a state of panic. "You killed her."

 

"It was self defense."

 

Holder shook his head furiously as he picked up the gun and shoved it into his waistband. "The safety was on. She didn’t even know how to use it."

 

"Shut up, it works out better this way."

 

"You were planning to kill her all along," Tony spoke up as he stubbornly got up on his knees. "Her dead body with my DNA, isn’t that right?"

 

"No way," Holder denied vehemently as he tugged the blue tarp over the still bleeding body. "That’s not what I signed on for. You said we were gonna leave him strung out with a hooker then call the press."

 

"You don’t think she would’a talked? This way it’s his word against the evidence," Vargas pointed out. "Now wipe off the gun and we’ll plant it on him."

 

"That won’t work. He’ll rat us out."

 

"He hasn’t yet."

 

"We hadn’t killed anybody before."

 

Tony finally made it to his feet and moved toward the tarp. Vargas pistol whipped him, dropping him face-first into the pavement. "Stay down, Tony!" he ordered as he kicked him in the ribs. "Let me think."

 

"I’m calling DeSanto," Holder said, taking off at a run.

 

"Darren! Shit." Vargas kicked Tony once more before going after him.

 

***

 

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 Brandy’s autopsy report," Gibbs added as he headed for MTAC.

 

"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 Fine walks. One way or the other there really would be a position open on the team."

 

"Yeah," McGee agreed quietly.

 

On the other side of the partition Thomas began to smile.

 

***

 

"And they say you can’t go home again," Gibbs commented dryly as they entered the big glass box of a building.

 

"Baltimore is hardly home. And I still don’t see why we had to come to headquarters instead of going straight to the precinct," Tony complained.

 

"Because we’re following protocol on this one," Gibbs said with a tip of his head to the left.

 

Tony glanced in the indicated direction then cut his eyes back to Gibbs. "I should have known," he muttered under his breath as a man in a cheap, tan trench coat rapidly approached them.

 

"Jethro. DiNutso. Nice suit."

 

"Did I tell you Fornell was joining us?" Gibbs asked acerbically.

 

"No, you left out that little tidbit. You just said we were eventually going to have to turn the case over to the FBI."

 

"You got my evidence?" Fornell cut to the chase.

 

Gibbs nudged Tony to hand it over.

 

Fornell snatched the tape as soon as Tony brought it out of his pocket. "This the original?"

 

"It is."

 

"I suppose you kept a copy for yourselves."

 

"We did."

 

"The Commissioner is expecting us," Fornell grunted as he walked off.

 

"You wanna explain to me again how this is an FBI matter?" Tony questioned, falling into step beside Gibbs.

 

"The body washed up in Virginia."

 

"But we both know it was more than likely dumped in Maryland. I mean she was. Brandy was."

 

"Semantics. Look, Tony, if you wanna keep a finger in this pie we’ve got to cut Fornell a slice because we don’t even have the crossing-state-lines hook. If not for the FBI this becomes a Baltimore PD problem. Got it?"

 

"Yeah," Tony agreed reluctantly. "I guess Fornell can be Scully."

 

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Gibbs replied with a twinkle in his eye he couldn’t quite disguise.

 

Up a flight of stairs and down another corridor they finally caught up with Fornell just as the Police Commissioner’s secretary was ushering him into an office. "They’re with me," Fornell told her. She smiled at them and let them through. Tony smiled back.

 

"I see you haven’t changed any, DiNozzo."

 

"Sir." Tony’s smile widened further with delighted surprise as he accepted a warm handshake from the man behind the big desk. "Congratulations on the promotion, I always knew you’d be Chief someday."

 

"You’re looking good, Tony. You know you could come by and visit every once in a while."

 

Looking chagrined, Tony introduced his colleges. "This is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs from NCIS and I guess you’ve already met FBI Agent Fornell. Boss, this is William Rockwood. He was my captain in Homicide."

 

"Commissioner," Gibbs greeted with a handshake as Fornell took a seat off to the side.

 

"So what’s this crap you’re bringing to my doorstep?" Rockwood queried as he put on his glasses and motioned the rest of them to the chairs in front of his desk. Tony sat but Gibbs wandered over to peruse the overburdened bookshelf.

 

"Let’s have it," Rockwell requested as he opened the CD tray on his computer. "How quaint," he said with a smirk when Fornell handed over the tape. He closed the tray and punched the intercom. "Sara? Try to scare me up an old-fashioned cassette player, would you?"

 

"Yes sir."

 

"That’s how we got it from DeSanto," Tony explained.

 

"That figures. DeSanto never could keep up with the times," Rockwood harrumphed. "You know, I always suspected that group was more than just a bunch of immature jerks."

 

"If you knew about the hazing why didn’t you do anything about it?" Gibbs asked bluntly.

 

"Gibbs," Tony objected, mortified.

 

"It’s okay, Tony. I’m glad you’ve got somebody looking out for you. All I can say, Agent Gibbs, is hind sight is twenty-twenty. At the time I respected DiNozzo for his restraint in not going after those bastards. Rest assured, if something like that were to happen in my department today heads would roll. In fact I have instituted a zero tolerance policy for hazing."

 

"Well in Tony’s case it was more than that."

 

"That’s what Agent Fornell tells me. I just don’t understand why this is surfacing now?"

 

"I didn’t remember," Tony offered uncomfortably.

 

Rockwood looked unconvinced. "Coffee anyone?"

 

Ten minutes later after the small talk had dwindled to nothing Sara came breezing into the office holding an old tape recorder triumphantly. "Assistant Chief McNamara had one and he wants it back ASAP," she said, sparing another smile expressly for Tony. "Sorry, no batteries, but it does have a cord."

 

"I swear that man needs to step into the twenty-first century," Rockwood sighed as he plugged the machine in under his desk, missing the amused look Tony sent his current boss.

 

Watching Sara leave Tony gave her a flirty, fingertip wave as she closed the door.

 

"You can get her number later," Rockwood teased, beating out Gibbs’ comment by a mere second. He inserted the tape and hit play.

 

Tony made an effort to keep his face blank, especially during Rockwood and Fornell’s frequent glances his way. Gibbs stood tall near the bookshelf with his arms folded loosely behind his back almost at parade rest as he listened, showing no emotion at all.

 

"Well," Rockwood said uneasily when it was done.

 

"Is that accurate?" Fornell asked Tony.

 

"I believe so, yes."

 

"I’ll be taking your man into custody," Fornell advised the Commissioner.

 

Rockwood took off his glasses and folded them before speaking again. "I’m afraid that’s not possible. We believe he’s already in the wind."

 

"What? He had no way of knowing we were coming for him," Gibbs asserted.

 

"Well I sent for him immediately after my first conversation with Agent Fornell. I thought Vargas should be here for this but I was informed that he took an early lunch and didn’t come back."

 

"We need to get an APB out on him," Tony said, rising from his chair.

 

"I’ve already got people on it," Rockwood assured as he hit the intercom again. "Sara, get me Robertson."

 

"Yes sir." A minute later the intercom beeped. "Detective Robertson is on line one, sir."

 

"Excuse me," Rockwood said before picking up the phone for a brief, terse conversation. "Just find him," were his final words as he hung up.

 

"So?" Gibbs prompted.

 

"Approximately ten forty this morning Vargas got a call from a number in Atlanta."

 

"DeSanto," Tony supplied with a growl of frustration at the Commissioner’s acknowledging nod. "Why would Leo warn Vargas after giving him up?"

 

"Did the old man seem especially well-adjusted to you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "He carried the guilt for Vargas’ crime a long time. Even if he didn’t want to take it to the grave he probably still felt a sense of remorse at turning in his old buddy."

 

Rockwood rubbed his face. "It gets worse. Robertson just informed me that Vargas has cleaned out his bank accounts and taken large cash advances on all his credit cards."

 

"Those are not the actions of an innocent man," Fornell noted. "He’s running."

 

"Don’t go hanging him yet. He’s still innocent until proven guilty," Rockwood argued as he held up the tape. "I’m going to hang on to this."

 

"No," Fornell replied as he held out his hand. "You’re not."

 

"I know you’re not going to believe me, but whatever happened in the past Vargas got his act together. I honestly believe he became a good cop."

 

"Your devotion to your men is commendable, sir, but misplaced in this instance," Gibbs advised.

 

"Bill," Tony urged. "Appearances are everything in matters like this. Don’t let Vargas’ mess bring you down. You’ve got a responsibility to the reputation of your department."

 

"You’re right, Tony," Rockwood gave in, handing Fornell the tape. "That’s why I’m going to ask you to let the FBI handle this. As a witness you don’t need to be involved any further in the investigation."

 

Gibbs nodded his agreement.

 

"You might as well head back to DC," Fornell suggested. "I’ll take care of things on this end."

 

Rockwood stood and shook Tony’s hand again. "For what it’s worth, kid, I’m sorry."

 

***

 

"What cha doin?" Abby asked as she wrapped her arms around McGee. She squeezed him tighter when she saw the morgue photo on his computer screen.

 

"Hi, Abby," McGee acknowledged absently but turned to get a better look at her when she didn’t let him go. "What’s wrong?"

 

"Nothing. Why?"

 

"I don’t know. You just seem down."

 

Abby sighed moodily but released him from the bear hug to plop down on the edge of his desk. "Why are you staring at that?"

 

"I just thought I’d try to help identify Tony’s Jane Doe," McGee shrugged. "I made a few adjustments to our new facial recognition program but it would help if I had something to go on besides this picture."

 

"Brandy."

 

"What?"

 

"Her first name was Brandy."

 

"How do you…"

 

"Shhh. Don’t ask," Abby interrupted, placing a finger against his lips. "Just trust me. And find out who she was for Tony."

 

"I will," McGee asserted with false confidence. "I don’t know how yet, but I will."

 

"You’re a good guy, Tim."

 

"Thank you." They shared a smile and Abby got up to leave. "Is that a new earring?" McGee asked to make up for his earlier hair-color faux pas.

 

"Just the skulls. You like ‘em?" Abby queried as she shook her head to make them dance. "Tony and Gibbs brought them to me from Atlanta."

 

"Tony and Gibbs bring you presents?"

 

"Only when they go out of town. Like way out of town."

 

"Oh. Why did you put them both on the same hoop?"

 

"There’s a certain symmetry in lop-sidedness, McGee."

 

"Right. And your hair is purple."

 

"Exactly. Hey! How’d it go in Baltimore?" she called out to Tony and Gibbs as they got off the elevator.

 

"It went," Gibbs replied. "And so did our perp. Where’s Kate?"

 

McGee frowned and bit his lip. "She’s on her way back from Jarrod Fine’s arraignment. In fact she should be here any minute."

 

"She went to the arraignment? How’d it go?" Tony questioned, going straight to McGee’s desk.

 

"Aw… he made bail," McGee told him reluctantly. "Apparently his mother hocked everything she owns and got another mortgage on her house."

 

"Shit."

 

"Easy, DiNozzo, we knew that would happen. If he runs we’ll go after him."

 

"Even if it’s not our case anymore?" Tony asked petulantly, the exasperation of the day finally creeping into his voice.

 

"It’s our case until that dirtbag is in jail," Gibbs swore. "We’ll look out for Miss Carter. You promised, right?"

 

"Right, boss," Tony agreed, letting out the breath he was holding.

 

"Good. Now go home. I know how much sleep you didn’t get last night." Gibbs turned to McGee but did a double take at Abby’s double earring. "Anything else?"

 

"I left some messages on your desk and uh, a Detective… Robertson called a few minutes ago," McGee reported as he checked his PDA for the name.

 

"That’s Bill’s guy," Tony said in an unnecessary aside to Gibbs.

 

"Who’s Bill?" Abby inquired.

 

"William Rockwood, the Baltimore Police Commissioner."

 

"You’re on a first name basis with the Baltimore Police Commissioner?"

 

"What did Robertson say, McGee?" Gibbs cut in irritably.

 

"He said to tell you they found Vargas’ car in the short term parking at BWI," McGee continued. "They’re checking airport security tapes to try to figure out which flight he might have taken."

 

"That figures," Gibbs said as he finally settled in at his desk. "He could be on his way to anywhere by now."

 

"He’s gonna get away with murder," Tony grumbled, glancing towards the elevator as the doors opened again and Kate got out.

 

"No, he’s not," Gibbs argued. "Don’t underestimate Fornell."

 

"Don’t underestimate karma, either," Abby added seriously. "What goes around comes around."

 

"And crime doesn’t pay," Kate teased after only hearing the end of the conversation.

 

"Yeah. Except when it does."

 

"Tony! Don’t get all cynical on us," Abby scolded, rounding McGee’s desk to drape an arm around his waist.

 

Tony gave her a squeeze in return as he turned to Kate. "They let him go, huh?"

 

"You heard."

 

"Was Lisa there?"

 

"No. She probably doesn’t even know he’s out."

 

Tony nodded miserably and moved to put away his gun.

 

"I thought I told you to go home," Gibbs said without looking up from reading the rest of the messages McGee had left on his desk.

 

"It’s five thirty," Tony protested. "We’re hardly ever out of here before seven."

 

"Home, Tony. And don’t let me find out you’ve been looking for Vargas or Fine. Am I clear?"

 

"Crystal," Tony muttered as he grabbed his stuff and stalked out.

 

"Where do you think he’s going?" Abby asked despondently.

 

"Home?" McGee guessed.

 

Gibbs wadded up the paper in his hand. "Dammit, he’s going to see Lisa Carter."

 

"I don’t think so," Kate disagreed. "Tony may be a pain in the butt, but he does what you tell him to."

 

"Not always. DiNozzo has become selective about following orders since he’s been back. And I haven’t had the opportunity to smack some sense back into him yet. McGee, go with him."

 

"How can you be so sure he’s going to see Lisa Carter," Kate asked as McGee quickly gathered his things and ran for the elevator.

 

"Take the stairs," Gibbs called after McGee before addressing Kate again, "Because I didn’t specifically tell him not to."

 

"Are you going to smack him soon?" Abby asked, playing with her earring pensively.

 

"Sooner than he thinks."

 

"Good. He pretends everything is okay but it’s not," Abby declared as she took McGee’s seat and picked up where he left off. "I want him back to normal."

 

Kate smiled sadly. "We all do, Abs. But I’m afraid it’ll take more than a good smack."

 

***

 

"I don’t think she’s home," McGee offered as they continued to wait on the dark porch.

 

"She’s home."

 

"How can you be so sure? There aren’t any lights on. She could be staying with a friend or at her mother’s house. For all you know she could have checked into a hotel. In another town. In another state."

 

"She looked out the window when we pulled up."

 

"Oh."

 

Tony rang the bell for the fourth time, adding a knock as well.  "Why are you here again?" he questioned McGee grumpily.

 

"I told you in the car…"

 

 

 

"Yeah, yeah, Gibbs sent you. You’re lucky I didn’t run over you in the parking lot, you know. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to look both ways?"

 

"I thought you were going to leave me," McGee explained for the last time. "You’re lucky to have me with you. She’s probably not ready to be alone with a man yet."

 

"And two is better?"

 

"Maybe… Probably… Yes."

 

Giving up subtlety, Tony began to bang on the door. "Lisa? Lisa, its Tony DiNozzo. Remember? Special Agent McGee is with me."

 

"Go away," came a muffled request from just the other side of the door.

 

"You don’t have to let us in," Tony promised. "Just talk to us. Please."

 

"What do you want?"

 

"We came to check up on you," McGee stepped in when Tony hesitated. "Are you all right?"

 

There was a quiet, derisive laugh. "Where were you last night? No one cared how I was last night."

 

"Last night Jarrod Fine was still in jail," Tony said softly, resting his head against the door.

 

The resulting silence stretched for several minutes. McGee began to get concerned. "Tony?"

 

"Shh."

 

Finally the porch light snapped on causing them both to blink at the sudden brightness. Tony stepped back when they heard the chain being slipped off. The door opened a crack and one bloodshot blue eye peered out at them. "You said he would go to jail."

 

"He will. He’s only out on bail until the trial."

 

"What if he kills me in the meantime?"

 

"We’re not going to let that happen, are we McGee?"

 

"No, we’re not."

 

Lisa let out a low, reluctant groan but left the door slightly ajar as she walked away.

 

"Is that an invitation?" McGee asked.

 

"I believe it is," Tony answered, pushing his way inside and turning on the livingroom light. McGee followed and grimaced at the mess of empty beer cans and crumpled tissues on and around the coffee table.

 

Lisa sat on the couch and pulled her legs up under her. She was wearing a pair of oversized navy blue sweats and her uncombed hair hung in strands in her face.

 

Tony went to the kitchenette and opened cabinets until he found an empty trash bag. "When’s the last time you had anything to eat?" He asked, also grabbing a can of chicken noodle soup which he handed off to McGee.

 

A non-committal shrug was his only answer as he began to gather up the trash and put it into the bag. Lisa flinched when he leaned in to sniff her.

 

"You reek," Tony noted. "But you don’t smell too much like beer. Did you polish all this off last night?"

 

"Fuck you."

 

McGee backed toward the stove and quickly located a can opener and a pot and set about heating the soup.

 

Tying the bag loosely, Tony set it out on the porch before shutting and locking the door. He then turned his attention back to Lisa. "You’ll feel better if you take a shower. I presume those sweats are what the hospital sent you home in yesterday?" He waited for a reply but only got a glare.

 

"Toss them out here when you change and I’ll add them to the trash. Better to get rid of them, they’ll just serve as a reminder if you hang on to them."

 

"What do you know about being raped, officer?" Lisa muttered, leaning her head back and looking at the ceiling.

 

"Actually it’s agent. Special Agent, remember?" Tony remarked as he took off his suit jacket and carefully draped it over the back of a chair, taking a moment to brush away pretend lint. "But you can call me Tony. And that’s Tim."

 

"I don’t care," Lisa declared listlessly but jumped and backed further into the corner of the couch when Tony sat near her.

 

He put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back into the cushions. "A friend of mine was raped recently. Well, not just raped, tortured, too."

 

"And?" Lisa asked after a beat, wary but listening.

 

"I was there. I witnessed the whole thing. Every blow of the fist, every slash of the knife, every… thing," Tony managed though his voice became thicker as he spoke. "I wasn’t exactly the victim but… I know a little."

 

They sat for awhile, only the sounds McGee made in the kitchen disturbed the heavy silence.

 

"Why didn’t you help her?" Lisa whispered at last, not quite an accusation.

 

Tony sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "I was restrained. There wasn’t anything I could do. Huh," he uttered as the truth of his words sunk in. "There really wasn’t anything I could have done."

 

"Is she okay now?"

 

"What? Oh, no. He."

 

"Wow. That’s…"

 

"Yeah," Tony agreed even though she didn’t finish the thought. "For a while there I even thought I might be next."

 

McGee’s head snapped up but Tony wouldn’t meet his eyes. But he did look at Lisa and let her see the truth of the statement. They shared the moment quietly and then she began to relax a little. "The doctor said I’ll probably have scars on my boobs," she eventually volunteered as she straightened her legs and mirrored Tony’s position.

 

"I would think so," Tony granted with a sympathetic grimace. "Human bites are bad to get infected, too."

 

"He put me on an antibiotic."

 

"That’s good."

 

"Here you go," McGee said as he brought over a mug of soup and a sleeve of saltines he had found. "Be careful, it’s hot."

 

Lisa accepted the food and even seemed grateful as she started to slurp down the liquid off the top. "Thank you, Tim," she said a couple minutes later when she was done.

 

"There’s more," McGee offered.

 

"Okay."

 

McGee went to get her a refill, catching Tony’s approving nod. He brought it back and she finished it almost as quickly as the first one while Tony munched on a couple of crackers.

 

"You think a shower will really help?" Lisa asked, stifling a yawn.

 

"It’ll help me, you really do stink."

 

"God, you’re an asshole," Lisa laughed.

 

"He is," McGee agreed with a grin.

 

Tony smirked at Tim then narrowed his eyes at Lisa’s drawn face. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

 

"No. Did you?"

 

"Why don’t you hit the showers then try to grab some Z’s," Tony advised, avoiding the question. "We’ll be here when you wake up."

 

"Do you plan on sleeping on my couch until they put Jarrod away?"

 

"If I have to."

 

"’Night," Lisa said, seemingly satisfied with his response. She slipped into her bedroom and closed the door. A moment later it opened again and the sweats came sailing out before it slammed shut.

 

"Good choice," Tony yelled through the door as he got up and brushed the crumbs off his pants.

 

"Gibbs isn’t going to let us sleep here every night," McGee replied, gathering the dishes as Tony picked up the smelly sweats and took them out to the porch.

 

"Sleep is overrated anyway," Tony purposely misconstrued the statement.

 

***

 

Kate stood at the edge of Gibbs’ desk until he finally looked up at her. "What?"

 

"Martin Thomas wants to be on your team. In fact he wants Tony’s job now that he thinks it’s up for grabs."

 

"Well it isn’t," Gibbs scoffed. "And even if it was, Thomas doesn’t have the stones to work for me."

 

"Yeah, that’s what Ducky told him, only more politely."

 

"Is that what’s had you tied up in knots over there all evening? Because if it is, you can relax."

 

"No, it’s just… and I hesitate to bring it up…"

 

"Spit it out, Kate."

 

"Thomas was at the arraignment this afternoon."

 

"You mean he was at the courthouse."

 

"No, I mean he was sitting in the row behind the defendant when I got there. I’ve done some checking and I can’t find a single, solitary reason for him to have been there other than to cause trouble. I have no proof of any wrong doing, only what my gut tells me."

 

Gibbs rubbed his eyes as he pondered the situation. "Did he see you?"

 

"I doubt it. He didn’t look around much; his attention seemed to be focused on the proceedings."

 

"Another reason he’ll never work for me. No situational awareness." Gibbs got up and wandered over to McGee’s desk to turn off the light that had been inadvertently left on. He used the movement to look around the empty bullpen before speaking again. "How’s the NCIS grapevine since Tony got back?"

 

"Red hot I suppose, but I actively avoid it. Abby would know though, she’s got connections everywhere."

 

"True. Ask her tomorrow if anybody has been specifically talking about how DiNozzo almost got himself suspended."

 

"Almost?"

 

"Yes, almost. The official paperwork was never filed. And even if it had been, the situation only came about because DiNozzo asked for it so he could run off to Atlanta, the nitwit."

 

"So Tony is okay? Well, as near to okay as he ever was?"

 

"If you have doubts you need to voice them now."

 

"No, other than some questionable reading material and spending a little too much time in the janitor’s closet … but we probably shouldn’t mention that to anyone."

 

Gibbs quirked a smile. "I’m tempted to rearranged things in there to see if he notices."

 

Kate laughed. "He’d notice. He has an infuriatingly accurate eye for inane things."

 

"That’s one of the reasons I keep him around," Gibbs agreed. "Look, go home. There’s no reason for all of us to be up all night."

 

"Are you staying?"

 

"No, I think I’ll go work on my boat."

 

"What about Thomas?"

 

"I’m sure he’s long gone. I’d be willing to bet that man has never worked a late night in his life. I’ll deal with him tomorrow."

 

***

 

Something like the creak of a door hinge woke McGee from a sound sleep. It took a second for him to sort out where he was and why he was sleeping on a strange couch. When his head cleared he sat up and checked his watch. The glowing hands told him it was a quarter to one. "Tony?" he whispered into the dark, but the room was silent.

 

He hadn’t believed Tony’s excuse about not wanting to wrinkle his new pants but took advantage of the offer of the sofa anyway. Knowing DiNozzo, it probably wouldn’t ever happen again. Glancing around he could make out the edges of the slightly ajar front door backlit by a nearby street light. Soft voices sounded on the porch and he could hear a car idling in the driveway.

 

Padding to the door in his sock feet he put a hand on his weapon and listened. Tony was wishing someone, obviously not Jarrod Fine, a good evening and then the door swung inward nearly hitting McGee in the head. He stumbled backwards as if he’d been eavesdropping.

 

"Easy, Probie," Tony said as he maneuvered past him with a pizza box. Outside a car door slammed and the delivery guy backed out and drove away. "Get the lamp."

 

Tim flicked on the small light in the corner as Tony deposited the box on the coffee table and went to the sink to grab a couple paper towels off the roll. As his stomach rumbled in anticipation from the smell alone, McGee opened the box and was surprised to find half the pizza covered in vegetables.

 

"I thought you liked it that way," Tony said, obviously reading Tim’s surprise as he handed him a napkin and plopped down on the couch.

 

"I do." McGee eagerly sat next to him. "But I didn’t think you ever wanted onions in the same box. You said the odor travels."

 

Tony shrugged as he tucked into a big piece from the sausage and cheese side. "Not like I’m gonna be making out with anybody tonight."

 

Sinking his teeth into his own slice McGee hummed his approval. "It’s good."

 

"Stick with me, kid. I won’t steer you wrong." Tony polished off his first and reached for another.

 

"Kid?" McGee swallowed to ask indignantly.

 

Tony froze with his second piece halfway to his open mouth. "I didn’t call you that."

 

"Yes you did."

 

"Sorry." Tony dropped the slice back into the box. "It won’t happen again."

 

"It’s not a big deal," McGee tried to assure, noting the change in Tony’s demeanor. "No worse than Probie."

 

Tony was quiet for a minute. Then he licked his fingers and leaned back to explain. "That’s what they used to call me in Baltimore. All of them called me that; Leo, Holder. Vargas. I hated it but I guess I was pretty young at the time. Hell, Bill Rockwood called me kid just this afternoon and I know he didn’t mean anything by it."

 

"Oh." McGee ate in silence and waited for more. Instead Tony kept any further thoughts to himself as he repeatedly wiped his hands before tossing the paper towel to the coffee table.

 

"Don’t you want any more?" McGee finally had to ask just to break the tension.

 

"Maybe later."

 

McGee closed the lid and leaned back to mirror Tony’s position. "Can I ask…?"

 

"Yeah, I really thought I was next," Tony said, reaching over to turn out the light. "Don’t be so shocked, McGee. You’ve been wearing the question ever since I told Lisa."

 

"But you were the audience."

 

"You think he would have kept me there untouched while he prowled around for another victim? He wasn’t that patient. He enjoyed it too much. You should have seen the ecstasy on his face every time his blade cut into Doc. It was the violence that got him off, not the… sex act." Tony grimaced as he said it. "And Doc just took it. I yelled until I was hoarse but I couldn’t make it stop no matter what I said or did. I wasn’t smart enough and I wasn’t strong enough to make it stop."

 

"Doc doesn’t blame you. You need to let go of that guilt."

 

"Some sick part of me wanted him to scream," Tony admitted very quietly. "But he didn’t. Not once. He was so freaking stoic. I couldn’t live up to that. I knew that I was going to scream. What kind of prick does that make me?"

 

"God, Tony." McGee struggled for words but came up short. "What did Dr. Lee say?" he finally asked to buy time.

 

Tony let out a strangled little laugh. "That’s not the kind of confession you make to a shrink in broad daylight, Probie. It’s more of your after-midnight-in-the-dark-with-a-buddy-over-pizza confession."

 

McGee felt strangely honored. "I’d say it makes you human, Tony," he finally said and that felt right, too. "But that wasn’t what I was going to ask."

 

"No?" He couldn’t see him, but Tony sounded suspicious.

 

"I wanted to ask about that article on Kegle exercises."

 

Tony laughed out loud this time but quickly muffled it as he turned the light back on. "Contrary to popular belief, women have always been a mystery to me," he said, leaning forward to open the pizza box and recover his abandoned slice. "And the Internet is like this giant key to all their secrets. All you’ve got to do is look."

 

"I never thought of it that way."

 

"Do you ever sign in to women’s message boards under a fake name?" Tony asked as he chewed.

 

"No."

 

"Me either," Tony said with a guilty cough. "So did you read it?"

 

"The article on Kegles?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"No," McGee denied immediately.

 

Tony grinned. "You did, didn’t you?"

 

"And you didn’t?"

 

"I started to, but it was so… clinical."

 

"What?" McGee eyed him in disgust as he picked up another piece of pizza. "You thought it was going to be dirty?"

 

"Well a guy can hope. So?"

 

"So what?"

 

"So hit the highlights for me."

 

***

 

No contest, Gibbs knew he really would rather be working on his boat, he just didn’t need Kate tagging along for this. With Abby’s considerable help it had been a simple matter to find Thomas after procuring his cell number. Over the wire Abby confirmed the license plate, make, and model of his car. It was definitely the right one parked in the lot of the upscale club. Gibbs couldn’t help but think it was more like a place Tony might go to score than the large, balding, middle aged and married Thomas.

 

After one last system’s check Gibbs removed his ear-wick and headed for the door. Once inside he quickly located his target and watched him get shot down by a pretty young thing with obvious good taste. Schooling his features into something remotely friendly he made his way through the crowd, getting within a foot or two of the bar before Thomas recognized him.

 

"Agent Gibbs?" Thomas slurred, unsuccessfully trying to look less drunk than he actually was. He fumbled to replace his wedding band.

 

"Martin? Is that you, you old son of gun?" Gibbs played him, raising his voice to be heard over the blaring music.

 

Thomas relaxed at the warm greeting and reached out to shake his hand. "I’ve never seen you here before."

 

"It’s not my usual haunt. I just felt like mixing things up for a change."

 

"Change is good. Let me buy you a drink." Thomas smiled broadly and motioned to the bartender. "Two more," he ordered without consulting Gibbs. When he turned back to him he immediately launched into his politicking. "Just so you know I’m looking for a change as well. At work, I mean."

 

"Really. I hear the FBI is hiring."

 

"I would never leave NCIS," Thomas assured, apparently scandalized by the thought as the bartender set their drinks in front of him. He peeled off several ones from a wad of bills and waited for change. Pocketing the fifteen cents he handed Gibbs one of the rocks glasses.

 

Gibbs sniffed the cheap scotch and didn’t bother to hide his aversion. "You’ve been at NCIS for what? Ten or twelve years now?"

 

"Sixteen," Thomas told him proudly, taking a healthy gulp of his drink.

 

"Sixteen? You’d think you’d have your own team by now."

 

"You’d think."

 

"Hell, give DiNozzo another five or six years and I guarantee he’ll have a team," Gibbs baited.

 

"Never happen," Thomas harrumphed. "See, what you don’t understand is DiNozzo is a more than just a hot dog. He’s a hot head. He won’t last. I understand he’s on the way out now."

 

"Oh? You know something I don’t?"

 

Thomas shifted his eyes around as if someone might be listening but kept his mouth shut. He gave Gibbs an all-knowing nod and wink.

 

"Tony’s a good man," Gibbs pushed. "He may act like a player but he’s got a solid work ethic. Quick mind. Pure instincts. And he’s loyal. I never have to check that he’s got my back."

 

"He’s a coward."

 

Gibbs stiffened but took a slug of the scotch to cover. "How do you drink this crap?" he swore, wiping his mouth.

 

"He’s a weak link, Jethro. You’ve got to cut him loose. If his last failure wasn’t proof enough for you, his next one will be."

 

"His next one?"

 

"You’ll see. It’s all gonna blow up in his pretty face. Your rapist is gonna walk and DiNozzo is gonna lose it."

 

"Is that why you were at Jarrod Fine’s arraignment?" Gibbs asked point blank. "Did you put a little bee in the public defender’s bonnet?"

 

"What? I wasn’t…"

 

"Don’t lie to me, Thomas. Agent Todd saw you. And we can always pull the courthouse entrance security feeds to back her up."

 

"I’m just looking out for you and the rest of your team," Thomas blathered, nearly spilling his liquor in panic. "DiNozzo is unstable, he’s gonna get someone killed."

 

"How the hell have you kept your job for sixteen years?"

 

"Tom Morrow and I go way back," Thomas boasted, making it sound like a threat.

 

"If I find out you have compromised my case or my team in any way," Gibbs snarled, getting in Thomas’ face, "It’ll take more than the director to protect you from me. Here." He dumped his drink into Thomas’ glass then slammed his empty onto the bar. "Finish off your liver."

 

"Jethro?" Thomas called after him before using both shaky hands to bring the glass to his lips.

 

Gibbs inserted his ear-wick on his way out but waited until he was outside to speak. "Did you get that, Abs?"

 

"Every word. Of course I’ll have to filter out the music which is a shame because that place rocks even if geezers like Thomas hang out there."

 

"Geezers?" Gibbs asked with an amused snort as he made his way across the parking lot to Thomas’ ragged out El Camino. "I’m a few years older than Thomas, you know."

 

"Well you are not a geezer. Geezer-hood has more to do with combovers and exposed chest hair than age."

 

"Noted. How much do you want to bet he tries to drive himself home?"

 

"Call the cops, Gibbs. He was plastered, I could tell. Drunk driving is so not funny."

 

"He hasn’t done anything yet and knowing Thomas he’s a charter member of the local LEO’s good-ol-boys club."

 

"Call them anyway. Please? Please? What if he takes out a family of nuns on his way home?"

 

"A family of nuns?"

 

"You know what I mean, Gibbs. Do something."

 

"I’ve got a better idea," Gibbs said. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and there was no surveillance equipment trained on him before pulling out his knife and clicking it open. "Don’t call me Jethro," he muttered as he stabbed the rear, driver’s side tire. Just to make sure he took out the front tire, too.

 

"Let’s see how far he gets with two flats, Abs."

 

"You’re a bad, bad boy, Boss Man," Abby approved.

 

***

 

"Did you sleep at all?" McGee croaked out, opening one eye to stare into the kitchenette.

 

Tony stood in his undershirt, boxers, and socks while ironing his pants. "Some. I had a bad dream. Same shit, different night."

 

"You’re having nightmares about Doc?"

 

"Not exactly," Tony sighed. "They’re about this hooker named Brandy…"

 

"The murder you went to Atlanta to solve."

 

"Yeah." Tony looked up in surprise as he draped his pants over a kitchen chair and adjusted the settings on the iron. When it began to hiss with steam he reached for his shirt.

 

"You’re a lot more domestic than I would have ever suspected," McGee mused as he watched in fascination.

 

Tony ignored the jibe as he began to press his slept in shirt. "The weird thing is… I thought once I remembered the details the dream would stop. But it didn’t. Now it’s in Technicolor and Surround Sound."

 

"You dream in color?"

 

"You don’t?"

 

Lisa wandered out of her bedroom in pink pajamas, barely giving Tony’s underwear a second look as she made her way to the pizza box. She flipped it open and helped herself to the last slice of the meat and cheese side. "What’s on the agenda for today?"

 

"Don’t you have to go to work?" McGee asked with a groan as he finally sat up and rubbed his eyes.

 

"No," Lisa said, chewing as she decided. "I’m not ever going back there."

 

"You worked at Annapolis," Tony guessed, finishing up.

 

Lisa nodded miserably. "I was an administrative assistant. That’s where I met… him."

 

"Can you stay at your mother’s house or something?" Tony turned off the iron then shook out his shirt a little to cool it before slipping it on.

 

"You’re standing in my mother’s house," Lisa told him. "She died a couple years ago. She left me some insurance money and this place."

 

"I’m sorry for your loss."

 

"What about your dad?" McGee asked.

 

"I have no idea, I never met the man. Don’t worry though, I’ll be all right for cash until I find a new job. Maybe I’ll move somewhere far away after the trial."

 

"Can’t you stay with a friend until then?"

 

"I don’t want anyone to know what happened. And I wouldn’t feel safe. What if someone got hurt because he came after me?"

 

"Lisa, we can’t stay here all day, we have to go to work," McGee began to explain.

 

"Pack a bag," Tony cut in as he stepped into his pants.

 

"Why? Where are you taking me?"

 

Tony tucked in his shirt then zipped up as he brushed past her into her bedroom. She followed him to her closet. "Pack a lot. Everything you think you might need for a couple of weeks."

 

"I’m not moving in with you," Lisa objected.

 

"Not me." Tony faltered when he looked down at her, noticing the bandages that showed through the cotton pajama top. "I’ve got a friend who can look after you."

 

"I’m not all that comfortable with men right now."

 

"I promise, my friend will not hit on you," Tony smirked as he started pulling clothes off hangers and tossing them to the bed. "This is nice," he fingered a slinky dress. "But we should probably concentrate on comfort over fashion. This is more like it," he replied when he found the box of sweaters on the shelf. "Warm, too."

 

"You’re nuts," Lisa said. Nevertheless she pulled a large suitcase out from under her bed while Tony continued to pick out her wardrobe. "Totally wacko."

 

"I get that a lot lately. Don’t forget to pack underwear and socks. And all your other unmentionable girly things."

 

"Can I use your bathroom?" McGee asked urgently, tapping on the doorframe.

 

"Knock yourself out. Don’t you have to go, too?" she asked Tony as McGee waddled into the bathroom and slammed the door.

 

"I watered the shrubs before the sun came up. In fact I think your neighbor got an early morning thrill."

 

Lisa managed to laugh. "Completely crazy."

 

"Finish packing and get dressed," Tony instructed. "I’ve got to make a couple calls. We’ll drop off McGee at the office and then I’ll take care of you."

 

"That sounds ominous," Lisa said but Tony was already out of the room.

 

***

 

Gibbs couldn’t help but smirk at the scowl Kate leveled at him as soon as he came in. "Get a lot done on your boat last night?" she greeted peevishly.

 

"I got a lot done. Not necessarily on my boat." Gibbs shrugged taking a moment to finish his coffee. "I take it you’ve already talked to Abby this morning."

 

"I came in early to ask her about the rumor mill but it turns out you got there first. By the way, thanks for leaving me out of the operation, Gibbs," Kate pouted, laying it on thick. "Do I really need to say ‘again’?"

 

"It wasn’t an op," Gibbs denied in an unenthusiastic effort to soothe her wounded pride as he took a seat and began his usual morning routine.

 

"Of course it wasn’t, you always go to bars wearing a wire."

 

"Maybe I do. It cuts down on a lot of ‘he said, she said’," Gibbs teased, earning a small smile of forgiveness. "Did you listen to the playback?"

 

"Yeah, I knew that creep Thomas was up to something."

 

"Good call. Have we heard from the public defender’s office yet?"

 

"No, but it’s still early," Kate sighed, glancing over to Tony’s empty chair. "What are you going to do?"

 

"Play it by ear, I suppose. I will be speaking to the director about Thomas, though."

 

"I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that meeting."

 

"Morning, Kate. Boss."

 

"Look what the cat dragged in," Kate said as she checked out her less than stellar looking co-worker. "Isn’t that the same suit you had on yesterday?"

 

"Ah, well, we spent the night at Lisa Carter’s residence. Tony dropped me off here a few minutes ago."

 

"I suppose he went home to change."

 

"He didn’t have to; he got up at the crack of dawn to iron. Unfortunately he hustled us out of the house before I could do the same. Not that I would have but… well he looks fresh as a daisy."

 

"Tony irons?"

 

"At least you got a shave," Gibbs approved after a cursory glance in McGee’s direction.

 

"Actually Tony keeps an electric razor in his glove compartment. Needless to say the first five minutes of the trip over was somewhat harrowing."

 

Kate snorted. "And then he let you use his razor? That surprises me, not the fact that he keeps one on hand. Or uses it in traffic."

 

"He didn’t want to let me but Lisa sort of guilted him in to it. Miss Carter, I mean."

 

"Where is he?" Gibbs asked, on the edge of annoyed.

 

"I uh… I honestly don’t know, boss. He just dropped me off out front and said he had to take care of something."

 

"And he didn’t tell you where he was going."

 

"No. I mean, yes he didn’t tell me where he was going."

 

"Well what did he say?"

 

"I just…"

 

"Word for word, McGee."

 

"Oh, ah… ‘Cover for me, Probie, I’ll be back as soon as I can’. I guess he didn’t trust me enough to tell me where he was taking Miss Carter. He did have her pack a bag, though."

 

"You can thank him later," Gibbs grunted.

 

"For?"

 

"For trying to keep your fat out of the fire with me."

 

"Right."

 

"Maybe he took her to stay with Mrs. Bornemeier?" Kate guessed.

 

"I didn’t think of that."

 

"We’ll know for sure if he doesn’t come in wearing the same clothes. If I know Tony, he’ll change if he goes anywhere near his apartment."

 

"Speaking of the same clothes," Gibbs said as Thomas came lumbering towards him, also wearing yesterday’s suit. He obviously hadn’t had a shave and reeked of cigarette smoke and booze.

 

"You son of a bitch," Thomas swore, pointing at Gibbs who merely raised an eyebrow at him in return. "You slashed my tires. I couldn’t even get Triple A out until this morning. I had to sleep in my car."

 

"Isn’t that what you usually tell Mrs. Thomas when you don’t make it home?"

 

"Not funny, Jethro. Just wait until I talk to Tom. You and DiNozzo will both be out on your asses."

 

"You might want to be careful about throwing around accusations," Gibbs warned, appearing unconcerned as he got back to work. "Director Morrow and I go way back, too."

 

"What happened in the club boils down to my word against yours."

 

Gibbs shared a grin with Kate. "I wouldn’t be so sure about that."

 

Still in the dark, McGee frowned as he leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his legs out in front of him. When Thomas turned to leave he gave McGee the once over, glaring as if their bookend look was a personal affront. He took another step then fell flat on his face.

 

The picture of innocence, McGee pulled his foot back and got up to go around his desk and sit in his chair. Thomas scrambled to get up and away from the people who quickly gathered around in concern.

 

"Did anyone smell alcohol?" McGee asked the group of agents before they dispersed.

 

"I think I did," someone answered.

 

"I did too."

 

"I can’t believe he came to work drunk," another person added.

 

"Sometimes it’s just too easy," Gibbs mumbled to himself.

 

***

 

"You are coming back for the trial, right?" Tony questioned, lifting Lisa’s chin with a finger when she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

 

"Do I have to?" she whined, half mocking, half serious.

 

"Yes, you do," Tony insisted. "Doc said he’ll come back with you if you want."

 

"Are you sure he really wants to do this?"

 

"Trust me, he does. He’s all noble like that, a real hero. His mom will be with him when he picks you up at O’Hare so it won’t be so awkward. Okay?"

 

Lisa nodded and sighed as she took her bag from him. "Thanks."

 

"You’re welcome. Now get out of here or you’ll miss your flight."

 

"Hey Tony," she called as he turned to walk away. "You’re all right."

 

"I’m getting there," Tony told her with a weary smile.

 

***

 

"Hi Ducky." Abby seated herself across the exam table from where Ducky sat poring over an old case file. "Is that Brandy’s autopsy?" she asked.

 

"Actually this is Jane, number two hundred and thirteen of the Baltimore Does."

 

"Brandy," Abby corrected as she spread out the crime scene photos.

 

"Do you know this young lady’s identity?" Ducky asked in surprise.

 

"No, just her first name but Tony’s old boss provided that. McGee and I have been trying out a new facial recognition program on reported runaways and missing persons records but we haven’t had any luck yet. What does the autopsy say?"

 

Ducky adjusted his glasses. "Well, the fatal wound came from a large caliber round to the chest. There were also several bruises on her body and a small puncture to the back of her right arm with a small rusty piece of metal in it. There was no evidence of drugs or alcohol abuse and other than severe cervical dysplasia which is consistent with her chosen profession, she was relatively well fed and healthy."

 

"Do you believe in spirits, Ducky?"

 

"I believe everyone has one. But do I believe some remain earth bound once we shuffle off this mortal coil? I don’t know. As a man of science I would be inclined to ask for evidence. But as a man who has traveled extensively and seen many things over the years that neither I nor anyone else can explain, I sometimes wonder."

 

"Want to know what I think?"

 

"Always, my dear."

 

"I think Brandy is reaching out to Tony from the great beyond to solve her murder."

 

"That’s certainly an interesting theory, but this young lady died well over a decade ago."

 

"But Tony didn’t remember and his old boss who did remember is like really sick now. Maybe she knows he’s running out of time."

 

Ducky gave her an indulgent smile and patted her hand before gathering up the papers and slipping them back into a folder. "Then we should do everything we can to help her rest."

 

***

 

"Where’s your boy?" Gibbs looked up more for the smell of coffee than the sound of Fornell’s voice.

 

"If you mean DiNozzo, he’s out. Why?"

 

Fornell handed Gibbs an extra tall he just happened to be carrying. "I have news, and it ain’t the good kind."

 

Kate and McGee both tuned in to the conversation but didn’t speak. Gibbs took a sniff of his cup before trying a taste. "I take it Vargas gave you the slip?"

 

"We’ll be bringing him in before long, don’t you worry. Actually the news is about your witness George DeSanto."

 

"Leo."

 

"Whatever. Let’s just say it’s a good thing you got his story on tape. He’s dead."

 

"I’m not surprised. He looked like he was on his way out when we were there," Gibbs shrugged, not sounding particularly charitable towards the old man.

 

"Oh no. How’s Tony going to take that?" Kate asked.

 

"I don’t think he’ll be too broken up," McGee replied. "We, uh, talked a little about it last night. Among other things."

 

Kate nodded sympathetically. "Well, DeSanto was sick for a long time."

 

"Cancer didn’t get him," Fornell explained, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. "A sawed off shotgun did."

 

Gibbs paused as he lifted his drink. "Self inflicted?"

 

"Not unless he was double jointed at the elbows and shoulders." Fornell tapped the back of his own head with his forefinger.

 

"You’re saying he was executed."

 

"At least we know where Vargas took off to."

 

"I don’t know," Gibbs said. "His bar was in a pretty rough neighborhood, it could have been a robbery."

 

"It wasn’t. The register was unlocked and untouched. Someone spotted a man who fit Vargas’ description leaving the building in a hurry. The local PD gave chase and now he’s barricaded himself in an abandoned warehouse. I’m sending a couple agents down to pick him up when they finally root him out."

 

"Assuming he doesn’t turn the shotgun on himself before then."

 

"And would that really be such a tragedy?" Fornell queried. "It would save the taxpayers the cost of a trial."

 

"Talk about closing the barn door after the horse gets out," Kate mused to herself.

 

"What?" Gibbs and Fornell both turned to look at her.

 

"I’m just saying," Kate went on, "He should have killed DeSanto a long time ago if he thought he might talk."

 

"He staked a twenty year police career on the belief that DeSanto wouldn’t rat on him," Gibbs said.

 

"Yeah, but Kate has a point," McGee observed, continuing when everyone swiveled to look at him. "If all he wanted was revenge for the betrayal, Tony was a lot closer."

 

"What would you do if you were a cowardly, low-life scumbag, McGee? Go after a young, possibly dangerous federal agent or a cancer-wasted old man?" Gibbs asked hypothetically. "And it’s only betrayal if it comes from a friend. Tony and Vargas were not friends."

 

"I suppose if he wanted to kill Tony he would have done it a long time ago, too," Kate said.

 

Fornell nodded his agreement but McGee didn’t look completely convinced. "If you want, I’ll let DiNozzo accompany my guys down to pick up Vargas," Fornell offered.

 

"Thanks, Tobias, but at the moment Tony’s got his hands full right here."

 

Fornell waved and walked away. "I’ll keep you informed."

 

"Call DiNozzo and see what’s taking so long," Gibbs told McGee without acknowledging Fornell’s departure. As McGee dialed Gibbs turned to Kate. "Do we know where Jarrod Fine slunk off to?"

 

"You don’t think he’ll go after Lisa, do you?" Kate asked. "I’ll find him," she quickly amended.

 

"Tony’s cell is either dead or turned off," McGee reported.

 

"It better be dead," Gibbs said as his own phone rang.

 

"It probably is. Neither of us had a charger last night. Mine’s a little low, too. I’m calling his house now."

 

"Don’t bother," Gibbs replied as he checked his caller-id. "This is his land line now. DiNozzo, why the hell aren’t you…" he began before stopping abruptly.

 

"Anthony, I need you to come home now, please."

 

"Rena? This is Jethro."

 

"Yes dear, I know. But I really need you to come home. There’s a busted water pipe and your apartment is flooding."

 

"Rena, stay calm for me," Gibbs soothed. "Is there someone there with you making you call?"

 

"Yes. I’m just so glad you have your work number on speed dial."

 

"Are you injured?"

 

There was a pause and a sniffle. "No."

 

"Don’t lie to me, Rena."

 

"Just please come home. And be careful." The line went dead.

 

"Kate, you’re with me," Gibbs ordered as he pocketed his phone and grabbed his gun. "I think I know where Fine is. McGee, you find DiNozzo and get over to his apartment ASAP."

 

"Fine has Mrs. Bornemeier?" Kate asked in horror as she hurried to catch up to Gibbs.

 

"Not for long," Gibbs promised.

 

***

 

Sneaking in via the back stairwell Tony found his end of the bullpen inexplicably empty for nine a.m. He checked his cell for messages he might have missed and found the battery completely drained. "Shit," he muttered through clenched teeth.

 

Assuming the rest of the team had caught a case he rummaged around the top of Kate’s desk in the hopes of finding a clue. When her phone rang he didn’t think twice about answering it. "Agent Todd’s desk, this is Special Agent DiNozzo." He snapped to attention at the words in his ear.

 

"Yes, we are very interested… That’s great. I’ll let her know, thank you for calling."

 

"Tony," McGee shouted as he raced out of the elevator as soon as the doors began to open. "Your phone is..."

 

"Dead, yeah, I know. I would have been back sooner but the Beltway was backed up all the way to…"

 

"Jarrod Fine has Mrs. Bornemeier at your apartment."

 

Tony stopped and stared for a second. "No he doesn’t."

 

"Yes, he does. She just talked to Gibbs." McGee turned to follow as Tony ran to the elevator, getting there just as the doors closed. "I think he made her call to lure you home."

 

"It’s not Fine," Tony said as he pounded the button. "A captain with the New York State Police just called to say he noticed the APB Kate put out on Fine this morning." The doors opened and they piled in. "They caught him trying to cross into Canada a couple hours ago. He was acting hinky so they detained him and ran his prints."

 

"Wow. Canada? He must have driven all night."

 

"So it has to be Vargas."

 

"It can’t be. Vargas is in Atlanta. He killed DeSanto this morning and the cops have him cornered in a warehouse."

 

"Dammit," Tony swore, running a hand through his hair. When he brought it down he realized it was shaking. McGee’s eyes grew wide as he noticed, too. "All those sleepless nights must be catching up with me," Tony said with a lackluster laugh.

 

"I’ll drive."

 

Tony took a deep breath to pull himself together then began to check his weapons. "Not a chance, Probie," he said, once again steady.

 

***

 

When no one answered Tony’s door Gibbs kicked it in and entered with his weapon drawn. The door hit the wall and bounced nearly closed again, catching on the fractured doorframe. "Who the hell are you?" he asked in surprise, fully expecting Jarrod Fine but finding a stranger.

 

At the other end of the room a man held Mrs. Bornemeier around the throat as he pressed a gun into her temple. Her glasses were gone and blood from the cut under her eye trickled into her disheveled bun from the unnatural position the perp held her head.

 

"I could ask you the same question. I was expecting Pretty Boy."

 

"Pretty Boy? You must be Vargas, then," Gibbs reasoned. "I thought you were in Atlanta. We found your car at the airport."

 

"Yeah, I traded with an old friend who went to do me a little favor."

 

"Kill DeSanto, you mean."

 

"From what I understand he was half dead anyway."

 

Mrs. Bornemeier gasped.

 

"Are you okay, Rena?" Gibbs asked softly without taking his eyes off Vargas or lowering his weapon.

 

She looked terrified, but bravely nodded her head as best she could. "I’ve been better, Jethro. How about you take out this freak so I can go wash my hair?"

 

Gibbs smiled. "That’s my girl."

 

"What a touching reunion," Vargas scoffed. "Who are you, anyway? And where the hell is DiNozzo? He never could do anything my way."

 

"I’m Tony’s boss and he’s otherwise engaged at the moment or your plan might have actually worked. As it stands now the apartment building is surrounded and the neighbors are being evacuated. It looks like we’ve got ourselves a standoff."

 

Vargas tightened his grip, looking a little desperate.

 

"This isn’t turning out the way you planned, is it?" Gibbs taunted. "We know DeSanto called to warn you. So you sent your pal to take care of him. I’ve got to say, though, I’m impressed you came after Tony yourself. You had to know your career was toast but you thought you could stay out of jail with no witnesses."

 

"I wasn’t going to kill Tony; I just wanted to talk to him."

 

"You wouldn’t have been able to keep him quiet. He didn’t remember before. That’s the only thing that kept you off death row all these years. He was never afraid of you."

 

"Shut up."

 

"The way I see it you’ve got two choices on the way you leave here: alive or dead. It’s looking more like dead to me."

 

"Just shut up a minute. I’m trying to think."

 

"Well here’s what I’m thinking… you’ve got a gun pointed at your head. If you shoot her, you’re dead. If you shoot at me, I guarantee even if you hit me I’ll still get at least one shot off and you’re still dead. But if you let her go, I’ll lay my gun down and you can use me as a shield when DiNozzo gets here."

 

"And then we’re right back in the same situation."

 

"But the innocent civilian is out of the way. How many years have you been a cop? Do you really want to go down taking a sweet old lady with you?"

 

"Jethro!"

 

"Okay, maybe not sweet."

 

"That’s better," Mrs. Bornemeier huffed.

 

Vargas loosened his grip as he weighed his options. "Put your gun down."

 

"Let her go."

 

Mrs. Bornemeier took a hungry breath when Vargas removed his forearm from around her neck. He kept her in front of him as they inched closer to the door. Gibbs stepped to the side until they were circling each other with Vargas and Mrs. Bornemeier ending up next to the front door and Gibbs in the middle of the room. Vargas leaned closer to the cracked door and listened to the footsteps in the hall.

 

"Gibbs?" a female voice called.

 

"Stand down, Kate," Gibbs ordered. "Give me a status report."

 

"The PD has the building surrounded, the neighbors have been evacuated and Tony and McGee are about ten minutes away," the woman reported.

 

"Succinct, clear," Vargas replied. "You’ve got good people."

 

"I hand picked every member of my team. They are the best."

 

"That include DiNozzo?"

 

"It does," Mrs. Bornemeier stated proudly.

 

"Somehow I doubt that. Tony never could follow orders," Vargas remarked glibly.

 

"Maybe you didn’t give the right ones," Gibbs came back. "Are we gonna do this or what?"

 

"I’ll open the door as you lower your weapon."

 

"Kate! Mrs. Bornemeier is coming out. Take her to safety and send Tony in when he gets here," Gibbs instructed loudly to be heard before lowering his voice to speak to Vargas. "This is it."

 

"Jethro…"

 

"Rena, just go. Tony doesn’t want you in here and neither do I."

 

Vargas shifted his gun towards Gibbs as he grasped Mrs. Bornemeier at the elbow. "Open it slowly," he told her.

 

As the door opened Gibbs lowered his arm.

 

"Drop it and I’ll let go," Vargas bartered. He kept his word and released Mrs. Bornemeier’s arm as Gibbs’ Sig hit the floor. She looked back once but slipped through the opening at Gibbs’ insistent nod. Vargas slammed the door shut. "Kick it over here then assume the position."

 

Gibbs did as instructed then allowed himself to be frisked and handcuffed behind his back.

Slipping Gibbs’ weapon and backup into his own waistband Vargas let out a sigh. "Now we wait for Tony."

 

"Everything’s status quo then."

 

"I thought you said he was the best."

 

"I never said he was punctual."

 

***

 

"Tony, look out!" He closed his eyes and held onto the dashboard as they took the final turn and slid in between two parked cop cars, miraculously not hitting either one. By the time McGee unclenched first his butt cheeks and then his eyelids, DiNozzo was already out of the car and bounding towards the front of his building.

 

"NCIS," McGee shouted, running after Tony and holding up his badge before anyone could misconstrue the situation and get trigger happy.

 

Spotting Mrs. Bornemeier and Kate near the back of an open ambulance Tony veered off course and went to them instead.

 

"Rena."

 

Mrs. Bornemeier pushed away from the EMT who was cleaning the cut on her face and threw her arms around Tony’s neck. He held her tight for a minute and McGee took the opportunity to catch his breath and look around. He recognized a few of the neighbors behind the police barricade and gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

 

"It’s my fault," Mrs. Bornemeier cried into Tony’s chest. "I went in to see if you needed any groceries and left the door unlocked. You’ve told me a hundred times not to do that and I was trying but… I was only going to be in the kitchen for a minute."

 

"Shh. It’s okay."

 

"His name is Vargas. He has Jethro."

 

Tony kissed her forehead and pulled away.

 

"I’m coming with you," Kate announced, looking primed for an argument.

 

Fishing his spare key out of Mrs. Bornemeier’s apron pocket Tony held it out to Kate. "This will get you in the back door. McGee, you’re with me."

 

McGee startled at his name but nodded his gratitude at being so readily included as Kate took off around the building.

 

"I’m out of mayo. And don’t get the store brand this time, get the good stuff," Tony told Mrs. Bornemeier with a teasing grin as he squeezed her hand then took off towards the building again, drawing his gun as he went.

 

McGee handed Mrs. Bornemeier his handkerchief and followed Tony as a couple of the other neighbors slipped under the tape to comfort her. Tony had already spoken with the cop in charge and was waiting at the entrance. Once McGee had his weapon ready they entered together with a string of policemen trailing in their wake.

 

After a quick visual sweep of the hall they headed down to Tony’s apartment. "He would kick it in," Tony complained when he spotted the splintered wood.

 

"Vargas?"

 

"Gibbs. Stay out of sight until I need you."

 

McGee pressed against the wall as Tony lowered his weapon and eased the door open but stayed in the hall. "Lucy, I’m home. You got some ‘splaining to do."

 

"Hey kid, it’s about time you got here." McGee grimaced at the nickname he knew Tony hated. He couldn’t see Gibbs or the perp but he had a perfect view of Tony’s profile and he didn’t seem alarmed so McGee allowed himself a breath.

 

Tony crossed his wrists at his waist, gun still in hand, and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe opposite McGee’s position. "Ricky," he greeted nonchalantly, no sign of hostility in his voice or posture.

 

"Well look at you. Quite the Ken doll, aren’t you?"

 

"Have you ever even worn Hugo Boss? Probably not. It doesn’t look like you’ve graduated from J.C. Penney’s yet."

 

"I’ll have you know this is not Penney’s, I got it at T.J. Maxx."

 

"You’re having a pissing contest over who has the better suit? DiNozzo wins. Move on." Gibbs sounded so much like his usual gruff self that McGee had to grin.

 

"Hi, boss. Sorry I’m late."

 

By the direction of Tony’s eyes as he spoke McGee could guesstimate Gibbs’, and presumably Vargas’, position. He leaned forward and risked a glance in to see Kate coming through the back door with two members of the SWAT team. She paused just inside the kitchen and signaled to Tony and then McGee that they were ready.

 

Leaning a tiny bit further and McGee could see Gibbs in front of another man through the mirror over Tony’s couch. They were backed up against the far wall. Gibbs’ eyes darted momentarily to the reflection but the other man was intent on DiNozzo.

 

"Did you get Miss Carter taken care of?" Gibbs asked, sounding exactly like he would if he were sitting at his desk.

 

"Yep. She’s on her way to Chicago as we speak."

 

"You sent her to Redding? Good idea."

 

"I thought so. But unnecessary as it turns out. Fine ran. They caught him at the Canadian border."

 

"Hey!" Vargas interrupted. "If you don’t mind can we stay on topic here?"

 

"Oh, right. I forgot, it’s all about you," Tony mocked. "So I’m here. What do you want?"

 

"Still a cocky little bastard, aren’t you?"

 

Tony’s friendly expression grew cold. "And you still like to smack around women. Some things never change."

 

"Look, what happened with Brandy… I need you to tell them it was self defense."

 

"You killed her."

 

"She had a gun for Christ’s sake!"

 

"Rick, she didn’t have a clue and you know it. She never even raised it before you took her out. And then you wanted me to…" Tony’s mouth twisted briefly as he finally lost his cool. "Who’s really the bastard here? And you have the audacity to call yourself a cop? You’re worse than the lowest scum you’ve ever busted. You’re supposed to be better than they are."

 

"Don’t judge me, Tony. You don’t know. I’ve changed."

 

"Bullshit! I don’t care what you’ve done since that night. You’re whole career is stained with Brandy’s blood."

 

"She was just a whore."

 

"She was a human being. And you took her life to advance your own agenda." McGee felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as Tony’s face lost all emotion and he lifted his gun. "You have the right to remain silent."

 

"You won’t take me alive."

 

McGee gripped his weapon tighter and followed as Tony stepped into the apartment. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Tony continued as Kate came around the corner, leading with her gun. "You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one or so desire, one will be appointed for you."

 

"Shut up! I know my fucking rights," Vargas yelled, gripping Gibbs tighter and ducking further behind him. "I will kill this man before I let you take me down. We’ll all go out together."

 

"Shoot him," Gibbs demanded. "DiNozzo, I’m ordering you to…"

 

A shot rang out and Gibbs’ body jerked forward as he let out a shocked gasp and fell to his knees. Behind him Vargas clasped a hand to his throat and slowly slid down the wall, leaving a bright red streak on the beige paint.

 

McGee swallowed compulsively before moving to the door. "All clear!" he shouted. "Send in the paramedics." As cops began to stream into the room he turned back to see Kate checking Vargas for a pulse. She looked up and shook her head.

 

DiNozzo was helping Gibbs into a sitting position. "You shot me," Gibbs accused as Tony freed him from the cuffs.

 

"You told me to," Tony said as he pulled out his knife and began working on the bloody sleeve to expose the wound.

 

"I told you to shoot him."

 

"Uh, yeah. And he was behind you."

 

Gibbs grunted in pain as he turned to check out the blood rapidly spreading across Vargas’ neck and chest. "He would have killed me," Gibbs conceded. "Good job, Tony. That was a hell of a shot."

 

"It’s just a scratch. No, wait. Through and through," Tony exclaimed as he finally got past fabric to the skin of Gibbs’ upper arm. "Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?" he asked with an ear to ear grin.

 

"You would know, DiNozzo."

 

McGee sat heavily on the edge of the coffee table. "I can’t believe you shot Gibbs. On purpose."

 

***

 

Hours later Gibbs tried to shoo away his overzealous nursemaid. "Stop fussing," he ordered but DiNozzo chose to ignore him.

 

"It’s not on right," Tony said as he puzzled over what he was doing wrong. "I know the strap goes across like… Ow!" he complained when Gibbs swatted the back of his head with his good arm. "What was that for?"

 

"How long did you wear one of these? You ought to know how to put it on."

 

"I had a lot of help, okay? Ow!"

 

"That one was for shooting me."

 

Tony glared at him. "You already got me for that. Twice. Once in the ambulance and once in the ER."

 

"And you should expect a few more. Shooting is a multi-swat offense," Gibbs grumbled.

 

When the hospital door opened Tony backed out of range while rubbing his head. "Fornell."

 

"Have you got Vargas in custody yet?" Gibbs asked with a smirk.

 

"Very funny. No wonder your own people use you for target practice."

 

"I didn’t need any practice, it was a damn good shot," Tony muttered under his breath. He clamped his lips together when Gibbs glowered at him.

 

"Do you or do you not want to know who killed George DeSanto?"

 

"Leo," Gibbs and Tony said at the same time.

 

"My money’s on Jason Thompson," Tony guessed as he settled on the wide ledge of the window.

 

"How did you know?" Fornell asked, trying not to look too impressed.

 

Tony shrugged. "When I ran a check on him I found out he was still in the area. From what I heard back in the day he always was intimidated by Rick. Plus they fit the same general physical description."

 

"So why would he kill for Vargas?"

 

"The short story is… Vargas has been blackmailing him for years," Fornell explained. "About what? He won’t say. He did imply that he would have set the murder up like a robbery but a customer entered the bar before he could."

 

"I knew Rick hadn’t changed."

 

"I’d love to know what he had over Thompson," Gibbs mused.

 

"Don’t fret on it too much. I understand Commissioner Rockwood is taking apart Vargas’ squad brick by brick. I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash," Fornell said on his way out without even wishing Gibbs a speedy recovery.

 

"Witch hunt," Tony mused unhappily.

 

"Sometimes that’s what it takes."

 

"Maybe. At least we put one case to rest."

 

"You know, when I told everyone to go back to work, that included you, Tony." Gibbs leaned back and tried to get comfortable.

 

"Don’t you want me to help you put on your sling?"

 

"I think I’ll wait for the nurse."

 

"Oh right," Tony grinned. "I got cha, boss. No problem. If you’re lucky it’ll leave a nice scar. Chicks love that."

 

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "You probably picked at yours every day to ensure that, didn’t you?"

Tony’s face fell a little as a stray thought struck him.

 

"I don’t need a babysitter. Get out of here," Gibbs continued. "In fact go home and check on Rena and then get some sleep. You look like crap."

 

"I can’t," Tony sighed again as he slipped into his jacket. "The director wants to see me. Apparently it’s a big deal when you shoot your boss."

 

"I can see that."

 

Tony stopped in the door and turned back around. "Oh, and get ready for the soup patrol when the doctors let you out of here tomorrow. I understand you’re next on their hit list."

 

"Looking forward to it. And Tony?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Tell them they’re all fired if they don’t get back to work right now."

 

"Them?" Tony adjusted his tie as he closed the door behind him and made his way down the hall. He paused near the small lounge area when he recognized Kate’s voice, realizing Gibbs was right as usual.

 

"Really? I would have thought Tony would have a bunch of women on speed dial."

 

"Are you kidding?" Abby disagreed. "He’d wear out the phone changing the numbers."

 

Mrs. Bornemeier sounded none the worse for wear as she laughed. "No, he told me once that he keeps his team on speed dial. I just assumed Gibbs would be number one."

 

"That figures," Kate scoffed.

 

"Don’t bitch," Tony said, making his presence known. "You’re number two. And the rest of you are three, four, and five in some order," he teased as Ducky and McGee got up to meet him. "And the boss says for us to get back to work or we’re all fired."

 

***

 

Director Morrow folded his hands on his desk after welcoming his guest and offering her a chair. "So what can I do for the Public Defenders office, Ms. Duncan?" he asked amicably.

 

"I have a subpoena for all records regarding the suspension of a Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

 

"To the best of my knowledge Agent DiNozzo has never been suspended."

 

"Is that so? Because I received a tip that he was in fact suspended at the time of my client’s arrest."

 

"A tip? From one of my people?"

 

"I’m not at liberty to say."

 

"I see. Hmm. Let me check with my aide." The director punched a button on his phone. "Annette? Get me the paperwork on all recent suspensions."

 

"Sir?"

 

"Get me the paperwork on all recent suspensions."

 

"There haven’t been any suspensions lately, Director. The last suspension was in November of last year."

 

"Are you certain?"

 

"Yes sir, you remember. It was for a DUI. I can print you a copy of the file if you’d like."

 

"That’s not necessary. Thank you, Annette."

 

"Yes sir."

 

Morrow sat back in his chair and shrugged. "I think you’re grasping at straws here, Ms. Duncan."

 

"So how do you explain the discrepancy?"

 

"Discrepancy? Just because you can’t validate a rumor doesn’t mean there is a discrepancy. And why would you choose to believe someone who violated the rules of his… or her, own agency to speak to you about an internal matter anyway?"

 

"I’m trying to protect my client."

 

"You’re trying to free a guilty man."

 

"Guilt has yet to be determined. Due process, you know, this is America."

 

"There is no paperwork because there was no suspension. You’ll have to resort to some other cheap trick to get your client off. And as for innocent, we have a video tape of your client attacking his own council in this very building," Morrow pointed out.

 

Ms. Duncan adjusted her turtleneck uncomfortably as she got up. "I’m sorry to have bothered you."

 

"Director Morrow?"

 

"Yes Annette?"

 

"Your next appointment is here."

 

"Very good, we’re done here. Send him in."

 

A handsome man held the door for her as she left and Ms. Duncan couldn’t help but smile back at him in spite of her disappointing visit.

 

"Have a seat, Tony," she heard the director say.

 

She pulled out her cell and dialed her office. "It was worth a try but it didn’t pan out. Tell the DA we’ll take the deal. Ten years is better than twenty-five. He could be out in four with good behavior. Not that I believe Jarrod can actually behave."

 

***

 

Tony could hear Thomas’ voice clearly as he approached the break room.

 

"It just proves what I’ve been saying all along: DiNozzo is dangerous."

 

"Why don’t you stow it, Thomas," the newbie spoke up. "From what I hear it was a brave damn thing Agent DiNozzo did."

 

Although the reverent tone was nice, and Tony would never begrudge anyone a little hero worship, he didn’t particularly care what Thomas thought about him so he moved on. But the sight of the open door of the janitor’s closet caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks. A man in gray coveralls stepped out carrying three rolls of toilet paper and the now empty cardboard box they had come in.

 

"Excuse me," Tony just had to ask. "Where are you going with that toilet paper?"

 

The janitor eyed him suspiciously but shrugged when Tony eyed him right back. "They wouldn’t all fit on the shelf. I’ll just stick the extras in one of the bathrooms somewhere like I usually do."

 

"Oh. I’ll take that," Tony said as he relived the janitor of the box. "Carry on." He waited until the man walked away to open the closet door. "Huh. Thirty eight," he counted then closed the door for good.

 

When he rounded the corner to the break room Thomas was still trying to get someone to listen to his rambling but his once abundant audience was now non-existent. A secretary ignored him as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She smiled at Tony on her way out. Tony gave her a smile and a friendly little growl as he followed her with his eyes.

 

Thomas harrumphed to get his attention. "I can’t believe you shot Gibbs."

 

"I can’t believe I lived to tell about it," Tony answered, still smiling. "Oh by the way, Director Morrow wants to see you."

 

"Sure," Thomas said, looking worried but trying to act casual. "I haven’t seen Tom in a while."

 

As he passed by Tony offered him the box. "I think you’re gonna need this."

 

"Someday you’re not gonna have Gibbs to hide behind, you little punk," Thomas threatened, obviously offended by the gesture.

 

"Well he’s not here now,” Tony said without the smile or fallaciously jovial tone.  “Bring it."

 

"Yeah, bring it."

 

Tony turned to see McGee, Kate, and Abby standing behind him.

 

"You don’t want to keep the director waiting," Kate said sweetly. "I understand he’s already pissed."

 

Thomas stormed past them.

 

"You’ll be sorry," Tony called after him, holding up the box. "It’s hard to steal the stapler when you’ve got no place to put it."

 

"So I take it your meeting with the director went well?" Kate asked Tony.

 

"Yeah. In fact he told me that he’s thought about shooting Gibbs a time or two himself. Then he ordered me to go home and get some sleep. I don’t know why people keep saying that to me lately."

 

"Well it sounds like an excellent idea. Not that you’re looking like death warmed over or anything," Abby declared as she took the box from him and set it down outside the break room door. "But first we’ve got something to show you."

 

"A surprise?"

 

"A good surprise," Abby promised, taking his hand and leading him back through the bullpen. McGee and Kate exchanged pleased glances as they followed behind.

 

"I heard you talked to Doc?" Kate asked as they walked. "How’s it going with Lisa?"

 

Tony grinned impishly. "Doc said they really hit it off. Who knows? Pretty soon they might be the ‘Will and Grace’ of the Mid-West."

 

"That’s great," Kate approved.

 

"In fact Lisa decided to stay in Chicago until the trial even though Fine’s bail got revoked. She may even move there."

 

"I think they’ll be good for each other," McGee said as they reached his desk.

 

"Ta da!" Abby exclaimed as she did a Vanna White over McGee’s monitor.

 

Tony’s mouth fell open as he gaped at the school picture of an innocent young Brandy.

 

"We found her," McGee explained a little self-consciously. "Well Abby did."

 

"But you set up the program, I just monitored it."

 

"Anyway… Brandy Leah Harper ran away from an abusive stepfather in Bemidji Minnesota in 1990 when she was only fifteen."

 

"She must have started hooking to survive," Kate said. "At the time of her death she had just earned her GED and was about to begin business classes at a community college."

 

"Family?" Tony asked quietly.

 

Abby shook her head. "Not that we could find except for her stepfather who’s rotting in jail for a series of armed robberies."

 

"We figured he didn’t deserve to know what happened to her, if he even cares."

 

"Thanks, guys," Tony muttered. He stared at the monitor for another minute then returned to his own desk to gather his things. "I’m going home to clean up the mess and then try to get some sleep."

 

"If I know your neighbors the mess was cleaned up as soon as the cops took down the crime scene tape," Kate offered but Tony just waved without looking back.

 

"Did we screw up?" McGee asked as soon as Tony disappeared into the elevator.

 

"I think he just needs time to absorb things," Abby assured with a sage nod of her head. "He’ll come around when he’s ready to talk."

 

McGee sighed. "I hope so."

 

***

 

The alley was the same as always; dark and oppression, only this time Tony was alone. Suspicious, he began to turn, taking in everything and searching for the danger he was sure couldn’t be far. He spun all the way around once, twice. Completing his third three-sixty he stopped face to face with Brandy.

 

Suddenly he felt completely at ease and unafraid. "Hey." He smiled.

 

"Hey yourself," Brandy said with a whimsical grin of her own. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and turned to sashay out of the alley towards a distant but unusually bright streetlamp.

 

"Brandy, wait," Tony called after her, searching for some meaning to the encounter.

 

 

She stopped, looked over her shoulder, and blew him a kiss. "It’s okay, honey, you can let go now." And then she was gone, vanishing in a mist that rose like a curtain around her, obscuring the light beyond.

 

Instead of waking with a start Tony merely opened his eyes. The dream was fading fast but the feeling of peace remained. A dull red 12:35 glowed in the dark next to the bed. On cue his stomach began to rumble and he regretted only picking at the roast Mrs. Bornemeier had insisted on making him for dinner. Sitting up, he turned on the bedside lamp.

 

The once broken angel caught the light and reflected it back to him almost painfully. As always it made him think of Kenny, and Margo, and ten boys whose battered faces he couldn’t quite recall. The feeling of serenity started to slip away. An echo of let go whispered through his head. He put on his slippers then reached past the brilliant sparkle to pick up the phone and hit number 4 on speed dial.

 

On the third ring a sleepy voice answered. "H`lo?"

 

"Asleep already, Probie? It’s not a school night."

 

"Tony?"

 

"You know the funny thing about scars, McGee?"

 

"Scars?"

 

"With a little luck and a little aloe, maybe some vitamin E… scars fade. Doc, Lisa, Gibbs… hell, we’ve all got scars."

 

"Tony, are you okay? It’s after midnight…"

 

"Why do we pick at our wounds? Keep little reminders that they’re there?"

 

"Okay, now you’re starting to scare me."

 

"No, no," Tony soothed. "Don’t. I just… I wanted to tell you."

 

"Tell me what?"

 

"What you said… what Kenny said before he died," Tony paused and listened to the breathing on the other end of the line for a moment. "The night I took down his dad, before anyone else got there… Godwin told me he wanted to go to heaven but he knew he never would because he had a devil in his soul. That wasn’t written in his book, Tim. No one ever knew he said that but me."

 

"I dream of angels but I live with demons."

 

"Funny that Kenny picked that up from a TV show."

 

"Do you need me to come over?"

 

 

"Good night, Probie."

 

Tony could hear his name as he hung up the phone but his attention was already back on the angel. He picked it up gingerly and carried it with him, resolutely ignoring the freshly scrubbed wall and the smell of pine cleaner in the livingroom. Luckily the only aroma in the kitchen was the lingering scent of Mrs. Bornemeier’s famous pot roast. For the first time in a long time he truly felt hungry.

 

He took a second to turn on the oven before picking up a dish towel that lay next to the six jars of mayo that lined the counter. Folding the towel neatly he slipped the angel into the center, placed the bundle on the floor and crushed it under his heel, taking the time to really feel the satisfying crunch of the glass as he ground it back to dust. When there was nothing left between the folds but a scant handful of sand he picked it up and shook the remains down the drain. After rinsing the sink with cool water he disposed of the angel’s makeshift shroud in the trash can.

 

Not wasting another minute he took the roast out of the fridge and put it in the oven. He reached for a single plate but after another thought set the table for two instead. A glance at the clock told him the roast would be warm by the time McGee arrived.

 

 

The End