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Stardust           
by Kikkimax

 

In spite of the location, a ridiculous amount of bystanders milled up and down the rural highway near the turnoff. Already feeling late and frustrated by the delays en route, Gibbs was forced to slow the rental car to a crawl for safety as he merged with the crowd. He rolled down his window to show the state trooper in charge his badge. "Obviously nothing exciting ever happens around here," he quipped.

"Not like this, sir," the trooper replied, opening the gate and letting them through. A length of chain with a clipped lock swayed with the movement, crashing noisily into the metal post. Representatives from various neighboring law enforcement agencies helped out and kept the rubber-neckers and the local TV news crew at bay.

"No wonder this place wasn’t in my travel brochure," Tony joked as they proceeded too quickly down the two and a half miles of bumpy, overgrown dirt tracks.

"Gibbs," Kate complained as she grabbed for the dashboard, bouncing around in spite of her tightly fastened seatbelt.

In no mood for criticism, Gibbs subtly increased the speed. From the look Kate shot over the back of the seat, he knew Tony must be grinning ear to ear but didn’t bother checking the mirror to confirm his suspicions. The usually light banter between Agents Todd and Dinozzo had recently taken a turn for the ugly and the wearisome trip had brought out the worst in both of them, which only added to the foulness of Gibbs’ current disposition.

As they rapidly approached their destination the road flattened out into a rough gravel lot where a few unmarked cars, more mismatched police vehicles, an ambulance, and a hearse were already haphazardly parked. Much to Gibbs’ surprise and relief all but a few of the ‘authorized’ spectators were relegated to the outside of the roped off portion and away from the crime scene. Every eye turned their way as they piled out of the sedan and moved to the trunk to get their equipment. An older gentleman in a ten-gallon hat broke away from the small group near the closest cabin and headed their way.

"Dinozzo, laser and sketch. Kate, photos," Gibbs instructed his team tersely as they slipped under the yellow and black police tape and entered the main area of the rundown fishing camp. "Hurry so we can get ‘em bagged and tagged before the sun goes down."

"You got it, boss," Tony answered, pulling out the high-tech measuring device and a medium sized artist’s pad from the case he sat on the hood of a handy police car just inside the perimeter.

Still slightly unsettled from the ride, Kate merely nodded, already snapping pictures of the macabre scene. The odor of scorched flesh hung heavy in the air but the dilapidated cabins around them appeared untouched by anything but time. Just beyond the unkempt compound the river flowed peacefully on, impassive as ever to the unfolding human drama.

"We appreciate your call, Sheriff Tucker," Gibbs greeted as he reached his equally gray but far more wrinkled counterpart to shake his hand. Though they’d never met face to face, they’d spent a great deal of time throughout the day teleconferencing. "Sorry it took us so long to get here. Unfortunately, we ended up flying commercial," he added with a touch of disgust.

"I’m just glad you’re here, Agent Gibbs," The older man gushed, pumping his hand gratefully. "I can’t even fathom how this happened, but I do know it’s beyond the resources of my little department. If it hadn’t been for the dog tags I would have just called the FBI for an assist."

"Yeah, about the dog tags…"

"Charred but readable with a little effort, metal fared better than anything else," the sheriff handed over a small evidence bag with the tags inside. "They were on this body on the end."

"Jeremy K. Murdock," Gibbs read from the label as the tags themselves were black and warped, supposedly by heat. "You know him?"

"Yeah, I knew him when he was younger. If it really is Jeremy he’s a local kid, his uncle owns this place. Now he’s a Lance Corporal in the Marine Corps but he’s been AWOL from his post at the Pentagon for the last three days. The van over there is registered in his name as well."

Gibbs glanced at the van as he pocketed the evidence. "You haven’t made a positive identification of the body?"

"Can’t. It’s burned way too bad to make a visual ID and there’s no skin left on the fingers to pull off a print. I reckon dental records’ll be the way to go."

"Or DNA," Gibbs agreed doubtfully, hoping Ducky could actually get genetic material from a charcoal briquette, otherwise they had no way to identify the other two corpses.

"To tell you the truth I would have been less surprised to find Jeremy in prison than in the marines. Still, he’s one of our own so whatever you need, you got it."

"Good enough," Gibbs agreed amicably. "Where’s my witness?"

"This way. It’s the damnedest thing I ever saw," the sheriff stated gravely as he ushered Gibbs back to the cabin.

They walked in silence as Gibbs took the lead, carefully not to step on anything as he circumvented the last of the three human-shaped silhouettes amongst the weeds. "That him?" he asked, climbing the two short steps to peek into the open door at the forlorn figure sitting on the threadbare couch. The light brown head stayed bowed, the man evidently deep in his own thoughts.

"Yep, that’s the witness, victim, whatever you wanna call him," the sheriff replied, following close behind. "He was cuffed and passed out in this chair when my deputy got here."

Gibbs inspected the sturdy, ladder-back seat on the deep porch, noting the handcuffs still affixed to the bottom rung. A rickety table stood nearby with a kerosene lamp and a variety of implements, syringes and small vials on it. Under the table a pale gray suit coat lay ripped and crumpled with a notable blood stain on the back of one shoulder.

"Chemical-assisted interrogation on the veranda," Gibbs observed wryly. "Is that a West Virginia custom?"

"Nah," the sheriff denied with an amused snort. "I reckon the porch was cooler. The only air conditioning out here is the wind blowing through the broken windows. They picked this place for a reason. It’s not like anybody was gonna just happen by."

"Which brings up the question how’d you happen to happen by?" Gibbs asked as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

The sheriff pointed to a faraway ridge across the river. "Early this morning a volunteer spotter in that fire tower saw a dark cloud come up out of a clear blue sky. As he watched it build it was followed by a bright flash of light. Then the whole thing just sort of dissipated right before his eyes. He called old man Ritchie who owns the next ranch over to check it out."

"Was the gate secured when he got here?"

"Nope, the lock had been cut. I never said Jeremy and his uncle were close. The elder Murdock denies any knowledge of the younger one’s recent activities."

"You believe him?"

"Without a doubt," Sheriff Tucker declared unwaveringly. "Anyhow, Ritchie called us as soon as he discovered the bodies. Since he assumed our boy on the porch was dead too he just backed the heck out of here without touching anything."

"Speaking of our boy," Gibbs interrupted as he glanced through the window, "He’s not burned? Not even a little?"

"Not so much as a singed eyebrow," Tucker denied. "But aside from being trussed up like a Christmas turkey he’d obviously been roughed up a little. Nothing serious though. We took him into town to get him checked out while we were waiting on your arrival. According to the doc he’s got an assortment of bruises, abrasions on his wrists, a punctured ear drum, and… what’d she call it?" He flipped open a small notebook and read from the scratches on the first page, "Posttraumatic retrograde amnesia."

"Amnesia," Gibbs parroted doubtfully. "How convenient."

"Looking at this stuff we figured he’d been shot up with something, which might help explain some of the memory loss. He does have several needle marks on his arms but we don’t know for sure what was injected because our lab doesn’t run drug screens in-house."

"You did have them draw blood though, right?"

"Yeah. I’ll have someone pick it up from the clinic for you."

"That’ll work," Gibbs assured. "So do you know this guy?"

Tucker shook his head with certainty. "He’s not local."

"And you’re positive he doesn’t remember what happened."

"He didn’t know much of anything when he first woke up, but he’s been learning fast. He’s a real smart fella, if a little twitchy. Had a couple episodes where his eyes just sort of glazed over for a minute and left him all panicky."

"You don’t think he might possibly be playing you?" Gibbs scoffed.

"He’s one hell of an actor if he is," the sheriff retorted gruffly, on the verge of taking offense. "But what do I know? I’ve only been doin’ this for thirty years. Maybe you should talk to him yourself."

"Oh, I plan to," Gibbs replied as he entered the main room of the cabin to make his own assessment while the sheriff went to cool down and find someone to run into town for the blood.

The combination livingroom/kitchen was hot and dusty, further polluted by the pewter colored smudges from the borrowed forensic team’s sweep for prints earlier in the day. There was a large window centered on each of three walls and a doorframe minus the actual door to the only bedroom on the forth. Trash littered the floor and there was no other furniture except for the shabby ‘rescued from the dump’ sofa and a large wooden industrial spool situated strategically in front of it.

A discarded silk tie lay on the makeshift coffee table amongst the fairly recent detriments of a fast-food meal which indicated the witness’ physical needs were being taken care of. Gibbs noted immediately that he was wearing pants that matched the jacket on the porch. However the back of the light blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows in deference to the stuffy room, was conspicuously unmarred by blood.

Except for a small, perfectly round bruise on his right temple and the wrinkled appearance of his clothing, the man didn’t look too bad for someone who had ostensibly been ‘interrogated’. He remained seated and kept his eyes on a twisted piece of wire in his hands. On closer inspection Gibbs realized the mangled bit of metal was once a pair of spectacles, the lenses now gone.

"I found these over there," came a softly spoken explanation as the rumpled man finally squinted up at him. He indicated a spot near the couch where a scattering of glass bits had been stomped into the faded and torn linoleum. "I think they must have been mine, my sight’s a bit blurry."

Gibbs pictured the attractive face with glasses and tentatively accepted the assumption. Depriving someone of part of their senses was a classic intimidation tactic, as was destroying personal property, and you couldn’t get much more personal than somebody’s eyeglasses.

"You don’t remember."

"No."

Digging in his pocket, Gibbs fished out his shield, flashing it briefly before showing his ID as well. "I’m Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. I work for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service and Sheriff Tucker is turning this case over to me." He waited for a response but got nothing other than a blank stare. "We have reason to believe at least one of the men out there was a Marine."

Haunted blue eyes blinked before dropping back to the destroyed frames. "I don’t remember anything from… before."

Gibbs retrieved a wobbly plastic chair from the porch and sat facing his only living witness, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Tell me everything you do remember," he requested single-mindedly.

With a resigned sigh the man tossed the frames on top of the trash on the table and began his tale. "The first thing I saw when I woke up was a guy in a tan uniform. Since he released my hands from behind my back I was extremely glad to meet him. He kept asking for my name but I didn’t know it. I still don’t.

"There were three burned bodies in the grass. No, I don’t know who they were. No, I don’t know how they died or why whatever killed them didn’t kill me. No, I don’t know why this whole place didn’t go up in smoke. Yes, it probably should have, given the heat it would have taken to obliterate those people out there like that."

Gibbs allowed an unhurried, unfriendly smile. "Been over this a time or two already?"

"You could say that." The witness leaned back against the faded cushion, his eyebrows drawing together as he studied Gibbs. "Am I a prisoner?" he asked warily.

"No," Gibbs reassured, taken aback by the distrustful tone. "But I expect your full cooperation and it just might help us figure out who you are. You got somewhere else to be?"

"Apparently not."

"Good. I’ve got a lot more questions."

Finished with the measurements, Tony climbed the first step on the big porch to sketch the layout of the bodies. "It looks like they were running away from this cabin when they were hit by a flame thrower," he reflected, indicating the fanned out appearance of the bodies in relation to one another.

"Yeah," Kate agreed grudgingly. "But none of the grass around them is burnt."

"I noticed that, too. It’s like they were zapped in place and the fire was already snuffed by the time they hit the ground. It’s weird."

"This whole thing is weird," the burly deputy who had been following Kate around commiserated with a shudder. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her. "When that guy in there woke up the first thing he asked was ‘where am I?’ just like in the movies."

"So?" Tony answered for Kate, who appeared similarly unimpressed. "That’s pretty much the response you’d expect from someone with a memory loss."

The deputy harrumphed. "When I told him he was in West Virginia he though real hard for a minute then asked ‘Earth?’"

Kate looked from the deputy to Tony, who began to hum the theme to The Twilight Zone under his breath as he got back to his sketch. She wordlessly reloaded the camera for another round of pictures.

"Do you have a problem with one of my people?" Gibbs queried unexpectedly, breaking the regular pattern of questions.

"What?" the shocked man asked as he abruptly tore his gaze from Dinozzo, who he had been watching intently through the open door, back to Gibbs.

"You’ve been glaring at one of my agents for almost ten minutes."

"I… no," he stammered, obviously flustered by the accusation. "I wasn’t glaring; I was just trying to decide what he’s doing. I mean, I appreciate the need for photographs…" he waved a hand at the busy agents outside and trailed off.

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs called out, never taking his eyes off the witness.

"Yeah, boss?" Already on the porch, Tony answered immediately, turning to poke his head through the doorway.

Gibbs gestured to the pad and then to the curious man on the couch. Tony looked confused but moved forward to hand over the sketches without comment.

"I get it," the witness understood right away when he saw the measurements written along with the sketch. "You get a better idea of scale and distance this way than with a picture."

"It takes out the guess work. As soon as we get back to the office we can program this information into a computer and get a three dimensional layout of the site," Tony expounded. "It’s really cool."

"You do good work."

"Thanks," Tony beamed, always appreciative of a pat on the back regardless of the source.

"All NCIS agents are trained to do sketches," Gibbs explained, deflating Dinozzo’s ego ever so slightly. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, I was about to help them bag the bodies."

"Let Kate do that," Gibbs instructed. "I want you to keep an eye on our friend here while I call Ducky. Get his prints, too. I’ll arrange for the sheriff to scan ‘em and e-mail ‘em to Abby with the ones they got out of here this morning."

"Sure," Tony agreed quickly, more than happy to let Kate do the grunge work for a change. "Let me get my kit," he added, stepping out the door.

"I know this," the witness exclaimed, looking a little dazed as he clutched the art pad. "This is familiar."

"You’ve done crime scene work?"

"No, no, I mean the drawings. I’ve done sketches of… something."

Gibbs nodded a tight acknowledgement then flipped open his phone and walked out onto the porch just as Tony came trotting back up the steps.

"Is this what I think it is?" Tony asked apprehensively as he took a moment to peruse the table.

"Yeah, but it looks like whatever happened here happened before the real fun started," Gibbs guessed, frowning at his limited signal strength. "Or he told them what they wanted to know right off the bat. Either way I don’t think the ordeal was bad enough he should need to block it out. Let’s go for a little good-cop, bad-cop and see what happens."

"I don’t have to guess which role I’ll be playing," Tony said with a huff. With Gibbs around he hardly ever got to play bad-cop any more. "Don’t you think Kate would seem more sympathetic?" he thumbed over his shoulder toward the third member of the team.

Kate glanced up at them from where the crumbling remains were being painstakingly transferred into body bags, though she was too far away to hear their conversation. The county hearse stood ready and the scene took on a surreal air in the gathering dusk.

"That’s the problem, she really would be sympathetic," Gibbs grumbled. "After our Jane Doe incident I’m not letting her anywhere near this guy. With those eyes he’d have her for lunch. Even I was starting to feel sorry for him."

Grinning brazenly at the appraisal, Tony gradually let Gibbs’ glare tone down his glee. "So you don’t believe him?" he expertly veered the subject in another direction.

Gibbs grimaced, obviously not wanting to commit one way or the other as he hit speed dial. "It’s hard to say. He is convincing, but either way he’s not telling me anything. If you can get him talking he might let something slip. Stay on your toes but be friendly."

"No problem."

"Ducky, I need your opinion on memory loss," Gibbs turned his attention to the coroner on the phone as he stepped off the side of the porch and wandered into the meadow in search of a better signal.

Tony watched Gibbs walk away then glanced once more at the table of horrors before plastering on his best smile and entering the room. "Hi. I’m Special Agent Dinozzo in case you didn’t catch the bellow earlier."

"I caught that," the man assured with a nervous smile in return as he put aside the sketch pad.

Opening his case, Tony set up for fingerprints next to him on the couch. "If you’re connected to any government agency this might be the quickest route to identifying you."

"Or if I’m a criminal."

Frowning as he took the man’s right index finger and rolled it across the ink blotter, Tony paused before repeating the action in a square on a sheet of paper attached to a small clipboard. "Why do you say that?"

"I’m right, though, aren’t I? I mean I could very well be a criminal. Normal people don’t usually get involved in things like this, do they?"

"No," Tony granted as he did the next finger, which went a little smoother as the man made an effort to relax his hand in Tony’s grip. "But you may just be some poor sap who knew too much. My bet is on some type of government employee or maybe military liaison."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, we’ve already got a military connection, but your hair’s not regulation so I don’t think you’re in the service, not in the mainstream anyway. But you are clean cut under all that sweat and dirt, wearing what’s left of an expensive suit and Italian leather shoes," Tony stated candidly, finishing the right hand and moving to the left. "So you’re either Mafia or… God forbid, FBI," he joked.

"Maybe," the man agreed uncertainly, examining the scuffed up shoes. "So if I’m a government agent, why would someone kidnap me?"

"Do you know for certain you were kidnapped?" Tony asked, keeping it light as the man seemed to be warming to him, not so surprising after the grilling from Gibbs.

"No. I’m just assuming I didn’t come here of my own free will."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, handing over a tissue when the prints were complete for both hands. "It’s not exactly a vacation paradise."

The witness wiped his fingertips thoughtfully, glancing out the window behind the couch. "The river’s kind of nice."

"So you’re one of those ‘the glass is half-full’ types," Tony teased gently as he started to put away his gear, earning another small smile.

"Thanks for all the help, Tony," Kate called contemptuously as her elongated shadow fell through the door.

"I was doing what Gibbs told me to do," Tony shot back in exasperation as the victim visibly tensed at the harsh words. Kate’s indignation as she stood in the doorway totally disrupted the laid-back mood he had been so carefully trying to establish, but Dinozzo bit back the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. "John, this is Agent Todd," he said instead, returning to a more pleasant tone.

"Hello," Kate greeted with a guarded nod as she wiped her brow with an already damp handkerchief.

"Hi," the man responded even as he turned his bemused expression on Tony. "Uh, John?"

"John Doe," Tony clarified. "We have to call you something. John is the generic name law enforcement usually gives to unidentified males… well, and men who patronize hookers. Unless you prefer ‘hey you’."

"John doesn’t fit him," Kate argued, pursing her lips as she studied the strong, albeit grimy features. "Can’t we come up of something more original?"

"Such as?" Tony inquired with feigned interest.

"I don’t know… Bailey, or Liam, or Alex…"

"Forget it," Tony objected strenuously, cutting her off. "We might as well call him Biff."

"John’s okay," the victim quickly decided, taking Tony’s side. "I like John."

"John it is." Tony aimed his smug smile at Kate then quickly toned it down when he spotted Gibbs coming up the steps behind her.

"Kate, start bagging the stuff on the porch while we’ve still got light," Gibbs ordered as he brushed past her and entered the room. "Make sure to get the suit coat under the table."

With a feeble grunt of protest, Kate obediently disappeared out the door without another word.

For once Tony managed not to smirk at her displeasure, though his eyes did twinkle mischievously. "What’d Ducky say?"

"As usual, Ducky said a lot of things," Gibbs grumbled, his ears still ringing from the latest tangent. "Mostly he said true amnesia without a significant head injury is rare. Which is not to say it never happens," he hastened to add before the witness could voice the protest already forming on his lips.

"I’ve got Abby doing a search on missing persons in the last twenty-four hours but it’s a long shot. Most police departments don’t take a report on a healthy adult until they’ve been gone for over forty-eight hours unless there’s evidence of foul play."

"And you don’t think I’ve been gone that long," the newly dubbed John postulated.

"Not quite." Gibbs glanced around at the trashed room. "They may have been here that long but you don’t have much more than a day’s growth of beard and it’s not peach fuzz. I seriously doubt they took time out from the interrogation to let you shave."

John nodded his concurrence as he rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

"So what’s the plan?" Tony asked.

"We’ll finish collecting the evidence then ship it to Abby tonight along with the van. The bodies are already on their way to Ducky," Gibbs provided absently, still looking around. "It’s been a long day so we’ll take a room in town and drive back to DC in the morning."

Tony gaped at him. "We’re gonna drive home?"

"Yeah, we’re gonna drive, Dinozzo. You got a problem with that?"

"Not really, but do you mind if I ask why?" Tony persisted. "The evidence will get there before we do."

"Because our witness has a busted ear drum," Gibbs informed him impatiently.

"Oh. I didn’t know that."

"So?" John asked, his eyebrows rising as he once again turned to Tony for answers.

"The change in air pressure on takeoff and landing is very painful with that type of injury," Tony explained with a sympathetic grimace just thinking about it. "You don’t want to go through that."

"So you are definitely taking me with you?"

"Yes we are," Gibbs responded. "Consider yourself in protective custody. You know something that somebody is willing to kidnap and torture you for, whether you remember it right now or not. Something that got three men killed." As an afterthought he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag with a thin electrical device in it. "I found this on the ground next to the porch. Do you recognize it?"

John flinched hard and cupped his right ear. "No." He turned away, silently declining to examine the piece of equipment.

"Maybe not consciously," Tony pondered, sharing a look with Gibbs.

"There’s a speck of blood on the electrode on the tip," Gibbs pointed out as he mimed placing the piece in his ear.

"It is kind of ear-shaped," Tony agreed, reaching over and taking the bag. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Nope," Gibbs shook his head. "It’s just a hunch, but I’ll bet an electric current through the ear hurts like hell." He glanced up at the single, bare bulb already casting shadows around them as the sun went down. "You two stay put. I’m gonna help Kate finish up so we can get out of here," he added, heading back out the door.

Tony pocketed the device but he didn’t miss the way John’s face paled as he unwittingly caught sight of it again. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," John denied, getting up and moving shakily toward the front window, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared out to where Gibbs had joined Kate.

"You just remembered something," Dinozzo accused quietly as he followed, stopping behind him. "Was it this?" he pulled out the device again.

"No," John whispered, refusing to look. "Please. I don’t remember."

"But you have remembered things," Tony pushed in a gentle tone. "Things you didn’t tell Gibbs."

John licked his lip nervously, keeping his back to Tony. "Some things, little things feel like real memories. Other times it’s more like I’m watching events unfold but I’m not a part of it. It’s like I’m everywhere and nowhere at the same time… like I don’t really exist at all. Honestly, I think I must be crazy."

Tony stowed the gadget in his breast pocket. "Why do you say that?" he prodded softly, grasping the other man by the elbow when he tried to move away again.

"Are we at war?" John asked with concern, evading the question as he glanced down at the hand keeping him in place.

"Yeah, sort of," Tony supplied, uneasy with the turn of conversation. "What kind of events?"

"A battle." John swallowed hard before continuing with difficulty. "There’s smoke… bullets flying… fire raining down from the sky, then an enormous explosion."

"Maybe you were military," Tony theorized, moving his hand from John’s elbow up to squeeze his shoulder compassionately. "Special Forces possibly."

John shook his head but didn’t pull away. "I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it. I do remember this," he stated decisively, gesturing towards himself as he looked over his shoulder to make eye contact.

Tony self-consciously dropped his hand when he realized they had an audience of more than Kate and Gibbs as several other people gathered in the grass beyond the porch. "This?"

"This… this feeling of trying to remember, I think I’ve forgotten myself before."

"That’s an odd thing to remember."

"Yeah," John agreed, moving away from the prying eyes outside as he wandered aimlessly around the room, ending up back near the couch. "I just can’t seem to remember anything useful," he growled in frustration.

"Hey, you remembered which planet you’re on," Tony ribbed cheekily, trying to draw the discussion back to the more comfortable level they’d been at before John had seen the device.

John turned, narrowing his eyes as they finally stood face to face. "It’s a start, right?"

"Well you’ve only got the one to choose from."

"Do I?" John asked seriously, carefully regarding the agent’s amused expression before sitting down, his own expression rapidly growing cold.

"Yeah, that’s a given," Tony assured, realizing too late he had made a huge tactical error.

Shaking his head slowly, John studied his slightly ink stained fingertips. He didn’t speak again for several minutes and Tony let him stew, unwilling to push any more at the moment.

"Then the things I’m seeing can’t be true," John finally swore under his breath.

"We’re the good-guys, you know," Tony advised as he sat in Gibbs’ plastic chair, leaning forward earnestly and dropping his flippant attitude in an effort to earn back John’s trust. "You can tell me anything, no matter how crazy it seems."

Leaning back on an elbow as he brought one foot up to rest on the flat cushion, John draped a hand across his knee, effectively taking up the whole couch. He considered Tony for a minute then chuckled softly, but it sounded brittle and forced. "I see how this works. Your partner browbeats me for an hour and then you come in all kind and polite and smooth everything over to get me to spill my guts."

"Good-cop, bad-cop," Tony confessed, realizing the truth was the only way to go. "It’s a common strategy, but I really am nicer than Gibbs most of the time."

"You know, the only question I could think to ask when I woke up from whatever the hell happened to me produced fear, amusement, and questions about my sanity from everyone else," John charged bitterly. "So until I know for sure what’s going on, Agent Dinozzo, I think I’ll just keep any more flashes of ‘memory’ to myself."

Tony hung his head momentarily before raising his eyes to the angry ones across from him. "Tony," he said at last.

"What?"

"Whether you like me or not we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together until we get this thing sorted out. You might as well call me Tony," Dinozzo insisted, pulling off one of his prize winning smiles even though he didn’t quite feel it.

John snorted cynically. "Sure, Tony," he muttered, resting his head back and closing his eyes, the conversation obviously over.

"Feeling left out?" Gibbs asked with a ghost of a grin as he watched Kate secretly observing Tony with the witness through the dusty window pane.

"Not at all," Kate lied, her words incongruous with her jerky movements as she filled out the label on the bag of syringes. "I just think I could be doing a lot more with this guy than Tony." Her cheeks colored at Gibbs’ smirk. "You know what I mean."

"It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment," Gibbs started, stopped by the disbelieving glare Kate leveled at him. "Okay, it’s not entirely that I don’t trust your judgment…"

"Gibbs, I’ve paid my dues," Kate interrupted just short of a whine. "I promise I will never let a witness get to me like Suzanne did again."

"I hope you have learned your lesson, Kate, I just think it’s too soon," Gibbs told her with his usual brutal honesty. "Look, this guy is either extremely vulnerable or one manipulative son of a bitch and at this point even I’m not sure which."

"I can be tough," Kate insisted.

"If I’d wanted a ball-buster on this one I’d have done it myself. This is gonna take some finesse."

"But Tony?"

"Dinozzo knows how to walk a fine line; God knows he does it with me every day. Even if he can be a pain in the ass, Tony is very good at what he does, that’s why I keep him around."

"I know that," Kate agreed reluctantly. "But don’t you think I should at least take a few minutes to profile the witness?"

"I’m not sure you’d get anything out of him right now. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time for that on the way home tomorrow," Gibbs remarked with a weary sigh just thinking about six and a half hours trapped in a car with Tony and Kate.

Gibbs signed the carefully packaged evidence over to a deputy who was to transport it to the nearest airport for overnight shipping. The van had been secured and towed away and the bodies were long gone, as were most of the extraneous personnel since there really wasn’t anything else worth gawking at. At long last Gibbs shook hands with the sheriff and ordered his team, along with one exhausted witness, to the car.

By the time they made their way toward the parking lot, darkness had overtaken the landscape completely. With her Mag-Lite firmly in hand, Kate lead the way followed at a short distance by John who appeared more concerned with the spectacular view of the stars overhead than any snakes on the ground they had been warned might be out and about. Gibbs purposely fell behind and motioned for Tony to walk with him.

"I blew it, boss," Tony confessed immediately. "He was opening up to me when I pushed the wrong button and poof. It was like somebody hit the off switch."

"What did you get from him?" Gibbs asked, seemingly shrugging off the setback.

"He remembers being in a particularly nasty firefight, but sort of in a disassociated way," Tony reported. "I’m even thinking Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or something because he’s certain he’s lost his memory before."

"A soldier? He didn’t strike me as the military type."

"Yeah, me either. Anyway, I was thinking; what if he was already suppressing a trauma and they forced him to remember it? Could that account for the amnesia?"

"Good question," Gibbs approved. "We’ll see what Ducky thinks. So how’d you piss him off?"

Tony winced guiltily. "Ah, see, when they found him this morning the first thing he asked was if he was on Earth. Apparently that got a rise out of the local LEOs and caused a little stir. I might have rubbed him the wrong way by bringing it up again."

Gibbs threw out a hand to stop Tony and gestured in the dark to the figure in front of them. John stood motionless in the middle of the clearing, gaping longingly at the sky. "Phone home," Gibbs deadpanned as he started walking again.

Kate slowly became aware no one was following her and reluctantly tromped back through the knee-high weeds. Clicking off her light, she positioned herself next to the witness. "Stardust," she said to him, following his upward stare.

"What?" John asked hoarsely, lowering his eyes to her for an instant before an invisible thread seemed to pull his gaze back to the stars.

"Stardust," Kate repeated with an embarrassed shrug, using her hand to indicate the broad trail of white that weaved its way through the night sky. "That’s what my grandmother always told us."

"That’s the Milky Way, Kate," Gibbs jeered lightly, passing them by.

"I realized that," Kate retorted defensively as Gibbs disappeared into the shadows. "It was a family thing," she called after him.

"Bill-yuns and bill-yuns of stars," Tony mocked, taking a position on the other side of John as he too stopped to take in the beautiful display. "Technically Granny wasn’t wrong," he contemplated. "Ultimately everything is made out of stardust, right? Even stars."

"Where did you learn that?" Kate laughed. "Let me guess, the Discovery Channel."

"So? I watch educational TV… when there’s nothing else on."

"Let’s go!" Gibbs yelled at them from the darkened parking lot.

"Come on before he ruptures something," Kate sighed, turning her flashlight back on. She accidentally crossed the flattened path made by the hearse on its way out and happily followed it.

John began to breathe heavier as he searched the heavens with an undisguised urgency as if the answers to all his questions were written there if only he could see it more clearly.

"We need to go," Tony urged, clasping his charge by the elbow to steer him away. He noted a slight tremor reverberating through the arm and was surprised at the hand that clutched back as John began to turn in a slow circle, still looking up. As a sliver of moonlight illuminated John’s upturned face his quiet, desperate need provoked an unexpected tenderness in Tony that let him ignore Gibbs’ roar to allow the man another moment for his futile quest.

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs’ shouted again and John reluctantly took a stumbling step forward, his attention remaining unwaveringly on the stars. Tony kept a steadying hand on him as he guided him across the weedy terrain.

"What the hell took you so long?" Gibbs grumbled when the stragglers finally reached the car.

"I had to pee," Tony fibbed rather than blame John or worse, admit to a moment of weakness.

"I thought maybe you saw a snake," Kate said innocently over her shoulder as she claimed the front passenger seat.

"Oh, I did," Tony leered, enjoying Kate’s offended glower. He opened the back door and helped John inside, automatically putting a hand on his head, a case of old habits dying hard. After dropping his gear into the open trunk he slammed it shut and rounded the car to get in behind Gibbs. "A seatbelt is always a good idea whenever Gibbs is driving," he advised as he fastened himself in.

John nodded without protest and fumbled with the clasp for a minute as Gibbs started the car, muttering something about respecting elders. Tony finally leaned over and clicked the uncooperative apparatus into place.

"Anybody hungry besides me?" Tony asked as they left the loud crunch of the gravel lot for the quieter but rougher dirt tracks.

"I’m starving," Kate answered, vigilantly holding on to the dash even though Gibbs wasn’t trying to set any land speed records at the moment.

"We’ll get something quick before we find a room," Gibbs allowed as his own stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

"We should probably go by that twenty-four hour Wal-Mart, too," Kate suggested pragmatically.

"Why?" Gibbs and Tony responded in unison.

"Oh come on," Kate scolded. "John doesn’t have anything but the clothes on his back and those are getting a little ripe. He’s going to need a toothbrush and a change of underwear at the very least. Unless you guys are willing to share."

"Anything but the toothbrush," Tony volunteered. "No offense," he added to John who blinked back at him listlessly.

"Fine," Gibbs sighed, glancing in the mirror at the reticent witness who leaned his head back against the seat and stared dazedly into the darkness out the window. "He looks wiped out though. Tony, we’ll drop you two off at a motel and Kate and I will go shopping and get dinner."

Tony looked like he might protest before nodding his assent. "Whatever you say, boss."

John continued to watch the shadows rush by but soon allowed his eyes to slide shut and was snoring softly in no time, despite the bumpy ride. Tony reached into the floorboard beside his personal bag and located his NCIS windbreaker to cover him with. They drove on in silence each lost in their own thoughts until a multitude of lights up ahead indicated they were nearing the paved road. Gibbs stopped the car and cut the headlights.

"I see the news crew is still here. In fact it looks like they multiplied," Tony observed in mild annoyance. "You think they’ll notice we’ve added a passenger?"

"They taped us going in," Gibbs commented dryly. "I’m sure they’ve gone over that footage a dozen times by now. They’ll be frothing at the mouth for any hint of something new."

"There’s no telling what little tidbits they’ve picked up as many people have been in and out of here all day. I’m sure they know about John. If they get him on tape you know they’ll run it," Kate advised.

"The question is; do we want his face all over TV? Eventually somebody would recognize him," Gibbs reasoned. "But do we really want to advertise his whereabouts? Those people weren’t playing."

"Yeah, but they’re all dead," Kate pointed out.

"With those resources I’d say the chances are good they weren’t working alone."

"Well John’s already been in and out once," Tony reminded them. "Or out and back in, that is."

"They weren’t here yet when they took me to see the doctor," John said quietly. "When I came back they hid me in the back of the ambulance."

"I thought you were asleep," Tony said, mildly surprised.

"I woke up a ways back," John replied, rubbing his eyes as he sat up straighter in the seat. "Bad dream."

"Cover him," Gibbs decided, turning the lights back on and proceeding up the road.

Each at least six-foot tall, the two men looked around the relatively small backseat. It was glaringly obvious John would not fit in the floorboard, especially with Tony’s feet, laptop, and pack in the way. He undid his seatbelt then let Tony guide his head down into his lap before drawing the jacket up over his head.

Tony gave Kate a warning look as she handed her windbreaker over the seat to cover John’s legs. She didn’t bother to hide the fact she was highly entertained by Tony’s unease with the situation, but to her credit didn’t comment in front of the witness.

With nowhere else to put his arm, Tony draped it across the back of the seat, finding himself a little unnerved by the man’s head resting heavily on his thigh. "You okay?" he asked as John shifted around trying to get comfortable but making Tony anything but.

"I’m fine," came the muffled response as the movement settled.

Within minutes they could hear excited voices as they approached the two lane highway. Gibbs waved to the trooper manning the gate as he slowly pulled onto the pavement, attempting to turn right. Lights hit him in the face as not one but two or maybe more television crews, along with a plethora of other reporters, descended on the car with cameras rolling.

"Joylyn Thompson, News 9, can we get an interview?" A pushy blonde in a business suit requested, tapping on Gibbs’ rolled up window, microphone in hand.

"No. Get out of the way," Gibbs barked at her as he continued to inch the car forward.

"Are you FBI?" a male journalist asked Kate on the other side of the car. "What can you tell us about the triple murders?"

"Get away," Kate warned, holding up a hand to protect her eyes from the strobe light effect of the flashes going off all around them.

"Were the deaths due to lightning?" someone else questioned loudly.

"Who is the mystery witness?"

"Give it a rest," Gibbs grumbled, honking the horn irritably as the swamped patrolmen valiantly tried to get the media mob under control.

Still shouting questions, the crowd slowly fell back to wait for the next vehicle, knowing the sheriff was their best bet for an interview anyway. Tony smiled and waved for the cameras, earning a pout from the blonde as they picked up speed and pulled away.

"Looks like we’ve got two tails," Tony noted less than a quarter mile down the road.

Gibbs glanced in the side mirror. "I got that. We’ll lose ‘em on the way to town. Keep the witness down in the meantime."

"I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem," Tony sighed as he gently pulled the windbreaker away from John’s face. "He’s asleep again."

Good as his word, Gibbs easily evaded the persistent reporters long before they hit the outskirts of town. In fact the roads were deserted as he parked under the canopy of a small but new motel next to the highway and let the motor idle. "Two rooms, we’ll double up," he instructed, tuning out Kate’s sigh that indicated she had hoped to bunk alone. "Keep a low profile."

"John," Tony called, patting the forgetful witness on the back.

"I’m awake," the man muttered instantly, sitting up and blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He pulled Kate’s jacket off his lap and deposited it in the middle of the seat. "Where are we?"

"In the grand scheme of things, do you really care?" Tony asked with a short laugh, gathering his bag and computer case as he opened his door.

John looked up and down the small-town street owlishly. Only street lights and the occasional blinking neon sign disturbed the darkness. "No," he admitted, stretching as he opened the door and stepped out of the car, still clutching the windbreaker that had been covering his shoulders. After glancing down at his own grubby clothing, he pulled it on for camouflage as he made his way around the back of the car to wait for Tony. He glanced up at the sky, disappointed to find he could no longer see the Milky Way.

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do," Kate taunted before Tony had both feet flat on the ground.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Tony challenged, fully aware what she was alluding to.

Kate smiled ingenuously, lowering her voice. "I was just thinking of your new penchant for kissing men. Maybe we shouldn’t leave you two alone."

Gibbs growled his disapproval, clenching the steering wheel and staring straight ahead as he gunned the engine. Tony grabbed his things and climbed out of the car, slamming the door before stalking off towards the lobby. With one last confused glance at Kate, John followed him. When they were both safely inside the building, the car whipped out of the drive and down the street.

"I need two adjoining rooms with double beds," Tony told the clerk brusquely as he approached the desk, obviously still ticked off.

The matronly woman eyed Tony first then turned her critical gaze to John. "Yes sir," she said priggishly as she started to type into her computer.

Tony looked back to find John wearing his windbreaker and self-consciously smoothing down his unwashed hair. "Don’t worry about her," Dinozzo advised loud enough for the woman to hear him. "A little soap and water and you’ll be good as new."

"I’m sorry, sir," the desk clerk announced, not sounding especially contrite. "The only connecting rooms available have king-sized beds."

"You’re kidding me," Tony blurted out in disbelief, halting the fumble in his back pocket for his billfold.

"No sir, a big news story broke today and we got a flood of media and law enforcement people. I’ve got one double open, but the room next to it is taken."

"Doesn’t matter to me," John stated, helping out Tony by taking possession of the laptop. "I can sleep anywhere."

"I noticed," Tony harrumphed as he secured his wallet and selected his company credit card. "I guess we should get the double for Kate and… You know what? Just give us two of the king-sized rooms that are together," he amended mid-thought, suddenly more cheerful, even treating the clerk to an impish grin.

"Yes sir," she couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking the card and getting them registered.

"Agent Todd’s not going to be very happy," John offered observantly.

"Hmm, you’re perceptive. Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. Eventually." Tony signed the receipt and accepted one of the keycards but pressed the other back toward the clerk. "A Jethro Gibbs will be picking this one up shortly. You can’t miss him, he’s got short silver hair and an attractive brunette with a bad attitude."

"You were investigating the murders," the clerk suddenly gasped, putting two and two together. She turned to the news report on the small TV set behind the desk as if for confirmation before casting a reassessing stare at John. "This must be the mystery witness everyone keeps talking about!"

"So much for a low profile," John retorted, not bothering to deny it.

"Louise," Tony said in a deadly calm voice, reading her nametag as he brushed aside the edge of his outer shirt to flash his gun and badge, "I’m going to ask you to keep that information to yourself. You’ve already insulted my friend here and if you start making phone calls you could possibly put his life in danger."

"I would never do that," Louise protested a little too vehemently.

"Good, because I would hate to bring you up on charges," Tony threatened solemnly. "So can I trust you?"

"Of course," Louise nodded with suddenly wide, frightened eyes.

"All right then, but if we get mobbed by reporters in the morning, we’ll know who to come looking for," Tony warned, catching John by the arm and pulling him to the elevator without waiting for the usual checkin spiel. "Room two thirty-seven, looks like we’re on the top floor," he commented casually as he pushed the up button.

"Could you really arrest her?" John whispered, shooting concerned glances back to the woman who was ineptly pretending not to stare at them.

He waited for the doors to open then ushered John inside and hit number two. "Probably not," Tony came clean once they were on their way up.

"You scared her."

Dinozzo grinned rakishly. "I think she’ll keep her mouth shut."

John seemed to think for a minute then let it drop. "What did Kate mean about your penchant for kissing men?" he asked evenly, moving on to a new and more interesting topic.

The unanticipated shift in conversation took Tony by surprise and his grin melted into open-mouthed shock. "You heard that?"

"I lost my memory, not my hearing," John replied as the bell dinged and the elevator car bounced slightly on arrival. "What did she mean?"

"She didn’t mean anything," Tony denied, suddenly in a hurry as the door opened. "Come on." He took four steps the wrong way before noticing a directory on the wall then executed a rapid about face and fairly bolted in the other direction.

John bided his time and followed along, waiting patiently while Tony inserted the keycard three times before getting the lock to open. "Do you?" he asked as he entered the room with Tony hitting the lights right behind him.

"Do I what?" Tony challenged edgily. He shut the door, locked it, and slid the chain into place all without even a glance in John’s direction.

"Like to kiss men," John clarified as he stripped out of Tony’s jacket and placed it on the bed along with the soft-sided computer case. When he spotted the remote mounted on the nightstand he went to examine it before hitting the power button. He smiled at his little accomplishment when the screen came to life.

Tony tossed his pack onto the bed. "If you can’t remember anything, how did you know how to do that?" he asked suspiciously.

"It says ‘on’," John pointed out reasonably. "Besides, they had one of those at the clinic," he added nodding to the TV where the blonde was reporting from a very familiar crime scene.

"Oh." Tony accepted the explanation for the moment.

"Looks like they finally let the press in," John stated as he crossed his arms over his chest and listened to what was being said. "Lightning? Please, those men were toast. If the bolt was that hot then why wasn’t anything else incinerated?"

"You’re pretty smart," Tony noted, slipping back into investigator mode. "You say you don’t have any memories and yet you can still talk and read and… you just seem to know a lot of stuff."

"According to the doctor I’m not technically brain damaged so even without memories I can still think. And I suppose I do have a certain amount of latent knowledge," John defended himself, turning an intense gaze on the agent. "Recall of stored information and memory of past events aren’t necessarily the same thing."

"I guess," Tony gave in guardedly. "But you don’t even remember your name. That’s pretty basic."

"I don’t know what to tell you," John shrugged as he began to unbutton his shirt. "And you never answered my question. Why should I keep answering yours?"

"Fine," Tony sighed dramatically. "What was the question again?"

"Don’t play dumb with me."

"No, John," Tony stated touchily to put an end to the matter. "I do not like to kiss men."

"Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?" John asked as he moved toward the large mirror that took up the entire wall over the en suite sink. He flipped on the light and winced as he pulled his shirt off his shoulders.

"Do you?" Tony queried, surprisingly interested in the conversation as long as it wasn’t focused on him. "Tit for tat."

"I have no idea," John replied offhandedly, letting the shirt drop down his arms to the floor as he studied the myriad of bruises across his ribs.

"Wow," Tony exclaimed, moving to stand behind him to survey the damage. "They really worked you over." He ghosted a hand over the purpling flesh along John’s lower back. "Kidney punches. Ow."

"They didn’t look so bad this morning."

"I’m sure they didn’t. Unfortunately, they’ll only get worse before they get better. I’ll call Kate and have her pick you up something for pain."

"I’ve got medicine," John informed him, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out a plastic prescription bottle.

Tony took it and read the label. "Motrin?"

"Eight hundred milligrams. The doctor said it was strong." John kicked off his shoes and made a pained face as he bent to remove his socks.

"Well yeah, for Motrin," Tony smirked, realizing he had been sidetracked. "Hey, now who’s avoiding the question?"

John met his eyes in the mirror as he straightened back up. "I already told you, I have no idea. I don’t remember ever kissing anyone, male or female."

"Oh, I didn’t realize that was actually your answer… never mind. Let’s just drop it, okay?"

"Sure," John agreed easily, unzipping his fly as he peeked into the bathroom. "I can wash up in here?"

"Yeah, here’s some stuff you’ll need," Tony supplied, digging through the courtesy basket next to the sink and unwrapping the larger of the two small bars of soap. "How could you not know?"

"That it’s a washroom?"

"No, it is." Tony handed over the soap and a miniature shampoo. "I meant how can you not know if you prefer men or women? Isn’t that more knowledge than memory?"

"As you pointed out before, I don’t even know my own name so I don’t think forgetting my sexual orientation is much of a stretch. And to tell the truth, it never even crossed my mind before you brought it up. I thought we weren’t going to talk about it any more."

"Uh-uh, Kate brought it up and you wouldn’t leave it alone," Tony disputed, getting a little flustered. "And you’re right, we should probably not. Talk about it. Can you figure out the shower?"

"I think so," John said as he dropped his pants and stepped out of his briefs, kicking both under the counter along with his shoes.

"Don’t burn yourself. You’re beat up enough," Tony cautioned, tilting his head slightly as he noticed the fairly recent scar on the back of John’s right thigh. As if of their own accord his eyes were drawn upward.

"I won’t." John disappeared behind the door.

Soon the sound of running water could be heard and Tony found himself staring at the closed door still thinking about John’s upper, upper leg. If he’d happened to notice anything other than the scar, it was purely by accident, or so he told himself. "Shit," he muttered, letting out the breath he’d been holding and getting the hell away from the bathroom.

After kicking off his shoes he sat for a minute on the edge of the big bed then collapsed back onto mattress. He rubbed his face with both hands, hoping fervently the case wouldn’t last long. It wasn’t that he didn’t like John; it was quite the opposite. The odd combination of vulnerability and perseverance in the mild-mannered man touched him inside and he really, really didn’t want to examine the feeling too closely. Not to mention he had just blatantly checked out the man’s assets, no matter what lie he’d spun to assuage the blow to his very male ego.

He reluctantly began to understand the kinship Kate had so hastily developed with her own walking, talking blank slate. And oh how not good that one had turned out; with little pieces of Jane Doe and her victim literally raining down on all of them with the rest of the debris from the inevitable explosion. In spite of the fact they could have been killed, Tony had only wanted to make Kate feel better.

Too bad she hadn’t returned the sentiment when he screwed up with Voss. But then again, he had crossed the line with what he’d thought was a witness, going so far as to kiss her… him. Even now he pondered Kate’s question. What was it like to tongue a guy? If he had only realized… maybe he would have paid a little more attention.

At any rate, he obviously needed to impose some emotional if not physical distance between himself and John before things got out of hand. His troubled thoughts were disrupted by the ringing of his cell which he retrieved from his pocket and flipped open without bothering to get up. "Dinozzo."

Sighing unenthusiastically at the request, Tony scooted off the bed. "Yeah, yeah, hang on." Padding back over to the sink, he bent down and pulled a shoe from under the counter and checked the size.

"Ten and a half," he reported dutifully. "Yeah… No, no way. I don’t do underwear… Because it’s nasty, Kate… Well I can’t ask him, he’s in the shower and besides, he doesn’t remember… I do know that for a fact… Because I don’t know what size I wear without looking and I didn’t lose my memory… I am a normal male… I said normal, Gibbs doesn’t count. He probably keeps his folded and numbered…"

Tony closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, vowing unholy revenge on Kate. "Oh hi, boss… Size? Sure, let me look." Finding only a single latex glove remaining in his pocket, Tony snapped it on then sorted one-handed through the dirty clothes on the floor and came up with a pair of white BVD briefs. "Thirty-two," he reported into the phone as he shoved everything back under the sink, including the smelly shirt and socks. "Okay… bye."

Sitting back on his haunches, Tony banged his head lightly on the side of the counter. "Someday, Caitlin Todd, someday," he swore.

He tossed the glove, got to his feet, and headed back to the bed, pushing his pack and laptop to the center of the mattress. Stealing two of the three large pillows, he propped them against the headboard and made himself comfortable next to the bolted down remote to flip channels. Awkward as it was, it was superfluous and distracting, just the ticket.

"Hello," he muttered when a flash of bare breasts caught his eye. He hit the ‘buy’ button, crossed his feet and settled in to watch, turning the volume all the way down to circumvent the moans, groans, and low-budget music. There didn’t seem to be much dialogue anyway.

Since the knobs were handily labeled as hot and cold, John quickly adjusted the temperature to his liking and even figured out how to make the water rush out of the spout at the top. After a quick consideration of the logistics he pushed the vinyl curtain to the inside of the enclosure, not sure if was the correct thing to do but certain it would help to keep the floor dry. He pulled the mat off the side of the tub and dropped it into the floor then grabbed the soap, shampoo, and a small cloth from the rack over the toilet.

When he stepped in and pulled the curtain shut behind him he found the pounding water on his abused abdomen and back to be painful. With a little experimentation he discovered that turning the nozzle adjusted the force of the water from a harsh staccato beat to a finer, less insistent stream. Finally he let the spray sluice over his face and chest as he relaxed into the soothing warmth, seduced by its comfort to let his mind go blank…

Sand exploded in every direction as the ground itself heaved in great, cataclysmic waves rushing toward the horizon…

John jerked at the vivid and dreadful vision, nearly falling as he jumped back. When his knees buckled he braced himself but ending up sliding down the back wall, collapsing into a wet heap in the tub. He dropped his head to rest on his knees as the water continued to fall, soaking his dirty hair and draining away in light brown rivulets for a minute before running clear. Shivering in spite of the warm water, his heart raced with the sensation of utter and complete failure that accompanied the strange hallucinations.

For the first time he had the luxury of recovering without an audience for which he was extremely grateful. The episodes tended to freak people out and since he was already being viewed with suspicion and fear he had quickly learned to hide his reactions. The panic slowly eased and John sighed as the tightness in his chest began to loosen. Soon he was able to find his footing and unsteadily get on with the process of getting clean.

As he fumbled with the top to the shampoo he read the instructions: lather, rinse, repeat. Why couldn’t everything be that simple he mused as he squeezed a handful of the amber liquid into his hair and worked it in. Everything else was complicated by layers and layers of meaning, nothing was what it seemed. He felt like a newborn, innocent and fresh suddenly thrust into an adult world he didn’t understand.

The whole of his existence as far as he could remember consisted of approximately sixteen hours of confusion, pain, and question after question that he couldn’t answer. The local people he had met had been professional but distant. The sheriff, the deputy, the doctor, all of them had treated him like an outsider, someone to be wary of so he had carefully kept himself apart as he was certain they wanted him to do. Against his initial reaction, he was thankful for Special Agent Gibbs and his team for they were strangers here, too.

He felt safe with them all but the only real peace he’d known all day had come when he’d been with Tony. He knew the agent had only been doing his job, Tony had admitted as much, but he’d treated John like a real person and not an unidentified witness to a hideous massacre. He’d even given John a name when no one else had considered it important. Tony had smiled freely and often and had touched him in concern several times and John naively perhaps chose not to see it as an act. He liked Tony best he decided as he rinsed his hair.

Just about the time Tony started to worry the water finally stopped and John came out of the bathroom drying his hair. He dropped the towel in the sink and bent to retrieve his clothes.

"Don’t put those back on," Tony instructed, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

"Why not?"

"They stink. Kate’s bringing you something else to wear."

"So what do I do in the meantime?"

"Tie a towel around your waist," Tony suggested offhandedly.

John picked up the damp towel and did as he was told. "Is this okay?" he asked dubiously.

"Sure," Tony approved, still preoccupied with the TV. "It’s just us guys."

"So, uh, what are you watching?" John asked almost shyly as he made his way to sit on the foot of the bed on the other side.

"Porn."

"Oh." John squinted at the screen without a clue. "Is this the Discovery Channel?" he asked after a moment of stunned silence.

Tony stared at him blankly for a second before busting out with a laugh. "I guess that all depends on who’s watching it," he finally managed, still snickering as he turned his attention back to the show. "For you, it probably is."

"I know what sex is," John objected distractedly, obviously fascinated by the onscreen action. "I just don’t remember ever doing it." He got an unintelligible grunt for a response and they continued to watch with only sporadic commentary, for the most part studiously ignoring one another.

Some time later muffled voices in the hall and a tap on the door startled Tony into movement. He randomly punched the remote to change the channel and rolled to his feet in one smooth motion, then covertly adjusted himself through the front pocket of his jeans before scrambling for the locks.

"Don’t say anything to Gibbs about the porn," Tony warned in a hushed voice, but John was still gaping at the TV.

"Hey," Kate greeted when he finally opened the door.

Tony took the flat box with their dinner in it from her overburdened arms, catching a glimpse of Gibbs with their baggage as he disappeared into the room next door.

"Oh my God," Kate gasped as she slipped by Tony, at least six blue plastic Wal-Mart bags dangling from her arms as she headed straight for John.

After depositing the food on top of the dresser Tony manually clicked off the TV, catching only a glimpse of the great pyramid of Giza as it faded to black. "What?" he asked turning back to Kate as she slid her arms free from the bags, dropping them onto the bed, pausing only for a moment to note that there was only the one.

John rose to his feet, looking unsteady and pale as he stared at the blank TV screen. He swallowed nervously then seemed to snap out of it, color rising back to his cheeks as Kate got up close and personal to examine his bare midriff.

"You poor thing," Kate sympathized running her fingers up his ribcage.

"I’m fine," John assured her, a catch in his voice as he tried to back away.

Kate captured him firmly but gently by the still scruffy chin to examine the bruise on his temple. "This is odd," she remarked before John eased out of her grasp.

Dinozzo frowned as he studied John’s face then glanced down at the towel just to make sure it wasn’t unduly tented, relieved for John to find that it wasn’t. He hadn’t realized the entertainment for the evening had been bothering the witness, in fact he would have bet his last dollar the man was enjoying the education. His guilt trip was cut short by a harsh rap on the interior door that connected to the next room and he moved to it quickly, pushing over the lock to let Gibbs in.

"Never go underwear shopping with Kate," Gibbs declared fervently as he brushed into the room, a tall cup of coffee in his hands. "And why the hell didn’t you get double beds?"

"They were fresh out, boss," Tony declared with an inscrutable expression. "Well, they had one, but the room it was connected to was already taken. I went for security over modesty," he finished, smirking at Kate.

"Our room is a king, too?" Kate asked irately.

"Don’t you trust Gibbs? Or is it yourself you don’t trust?"

"Enough," Gibbs barked. "I’m gonna tell you like I told Kate, whatever this crap is between you two it’s gonna stop or you’re both gonna be looking for a new job. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Tony replied, certain Kate had gotten a much worse ass-chewing without an audience, secretly pleased by the thought. "Let’s eat."

Gibbs glared at both of them then grimaced when he caught sight of John who was quietly watching the proceedings with wide eyes. "That’s gotta hurt."

"I got you some Motrin," Kate said turning to John as she dumped the contents of the shopping bags one by one until she found what she was looking for. "You should take it with food so it doesn’t upset your stomach." She tore off the box and the protective wrapper, opened the childproof lid then tossed away the cotton ball before finally shaking two of the pills into her hand.

"Thank you," John smiled self-consciously as he took the offering and popped them into his mouth, turning to the sink to take a handful of water from the tap to wash them down. He graciously forgot to mention he already had some.

"I also got you a razor, a toothbrush, a comb, some antibiotic ointment for your wrists and some Sudafed. I noticed you sounded a little congested in the car. You probably have allergies and I’m sure hanging out in that dusty room all day didn’t help," Kate rambled as she sat the handful of items on the sink. "Take two of these," she instructed, unwrapping the allergy medicine.

A little overwhelmed, John shot a bewildered look to Tony and Gibbs who watched their teammate fusing over him with unconcealed amusement.

"She’s a profiler," Tony explained with a shrug. "She notices things like how people… breathe."

"Kate, why don’t you give him something to wear?" Gibbs suggested helpfully.

Kate looked up at Gibbs and then back to the near naked but oh so sculpted body next to her. "Right. Actually, John, you’re a little more muscular than I first though. Some of this might be a little tight."

Gibbs snorted and took a long drink of coffee.

"Sure, Kate," Dinozzo teased, "So much for your observational skills."

Ignoring them, Kate handed John a three pack of boxer-briefs, a pack of tee-shirts, and a pair of navy blue sweat pants. "I got you some jeans and a shirt for tomorrow. Oh, and some sneakers. And socks."

"I… I don’t have any money," John stammered, obviously embarrassed.

"It’s okay," Kate soothed. "I put it on Gibbs’ expense account."

"Thank you," John said sincerely.

"Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna charge it back to Tucker anyway," Gibbs dismissed the gratitude uncomfortably.

"Go put on some clothes so we can eat," Tony urged as he moved the food over to the round table with two comfortable chairs in front of the windows.

John went into the bathroom to dress while Tony grabbed the small desk chair and Gibbs ducked back into the other room to get one more. Feeling strangely maternal, Kate gathered John’s old clothes and folded them, placing them in one of the empty Wal-Mart bags before putting the rest of the bounty away.

"How’s he doing?" Gibbs inquired as he lugged the chair through the door and over to the table as Tony pulled the drink holder out of the box.

"I don’t think he’s mad at me anymore," Tony reported thoughtfully, setting the box out of the way and rummaging through the bags. "But I don’t think he’s remembered anything else either. In fact I think he’s trying not to." A stray fry found its way to his mouth as he sorted out a burger for each of them.

Kate finished arranging the toiletries on the sink and joined them at the table. "What do you think?" Tony asked her as they both settled in.

"I agree. I think there’s something so horrible lurking in this guy’s subconscious that he has literally willed it away. I’m not sure making him remember would be the best thing for him."

"If he doesn’t remember," Gibbs retorted as he located his errant cup, "We may never find out what happened out there."

The bathroom door opened and a much more contented John came out in the sweats and a tight, white tee-shirt, his hair slightly askew. He put the packaging in the trash and dropped off the extra underwear on top of the bags in the closest then made his way to the table. "Is that coffee?" he asked hopefully as he sniffed the air, his nose narrowing in on Gibbs.

"Maybe," Gibbs answered evasively.

"I’m sorry, I got you soda. But there’s another cup of coffee," Kate smiled as John sat next to her.

"That’s mine, too," Gibbs protested.

"Oh," John said, sounding disappointed as he unwrapped the burger Tony plopped in front of him. He took a big bite and chewed, making appreciate noises. "This one’s better than the one at lunch. It’s still hot."

"You had a Big Mac for lunch, too?" Kate asked solicitously, still frowning at Gibbs for not sharing.

"McDonald’s was the only thing open on this end of town," Gibbs grumbled, finally sitting down to eat.

"We’ll get you some real food tomorrow," Tony promised through a mouthful of fries. "And all the coffee you want."

Gibbs made a disgusted noise and grabbed the other hot cup. He popped the lid off both and split the full cup evenly. "Here," he offered sullenly.

"Thanks," John grinned, accepting the cup reverently. His pushed the food aside and closed his eyes as he took his first sip. "Mmmm."

"How can you forget everything else but still remember coffee?" Tony asked as he finished his fries and the half of Kate’s that had been accidentally spilled onto the table.

"Because coffee is important," Gibbs answered for him as he fought back a grudging smile.

"They gave me coffee at the clinic, but cut me off after three cups."

"Separated at birth," Kate chided with a laugh.

"By about fifteen years," Tony added fearlessly.

"Can it, Dinozzo," Gibbs warned, playfully threatening to smack him in the back of the head. "Then when you’re done killing that burger set up a videoconference with Abby before you get back to your porn."

"Porn?" Tony asked artlessly. "This place has porn?"

"We were watching the Discovery Channel," John added, hiding his smile behind his hard earned coffee.

"They really were, I saw it," Kate confirmed. "It looked like something on the pyramids."

John sat his cup down and hid his trembling hands under the table.

"John?"

"Hmm?" John asked, deceptively calm as he snaked a hand out to grab his burger and take a bite, chewing slowly as if he wasn’t sure he’d actually be able to swallow it.

Tony studied him for a minute but let it pass. Popping the last bite of his own dinner into his mouth he got up and went to get his laptop, taking it to the desk to locate the advertised high-speed internet connection.

Feeling slightly nauseated, John pushed the rest of his meal away in lieu of the coffee. He held the cup close to his chest as he searched for something to say to break the suddenly unbearable silence around the table as they finished up. "Navy you say," was all he came up with.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Gibbs provided for the second time.

"The Marines are actually a branch of the Navy so they fall under our jurisdiction as well," Kate went on to explain. "That’s why we’re here, one of the victims… one of the other victims was a Marine."

"Ah." John nodded nervously and took another drink. It still made no sense to him.

"Semper Fi," Gibbs commented under his breath.

"Excuse me?" John asked, leaning forward with a spark of interest.

"It’s a Marine greeting. It’s Latin; it means ‘always faithful’."

"No," John corrected, his brow creasing in thought. "Always faithful, that would be semper fidelis, I think." He blinked back at the two sets of eyes suddenly staring at him. "Is that right?" he asked warily, looking around anxiously for Tony who approached from behind and put a reassuring hand on the back of his chair.

"Technically, yeah…" Gibbs granted slowly.

"Let’s try another one," Kate suggested. "Um, let me think… noli me tangere."

"Touch me not," John translated without hesitation.

Tony snorted lightly. "Only you, Kate. John, say this in Latin," he proposed, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity."

"Non calor sed umor est qui nobis incommodat."

"Is that right?" Gibbs asked this time, looking at Tony then Kate.

"Beats me," Tony shrugged as he sat down. "It sounded good. Say ‘the designated hitter rule has got to go’."

"Lex clavatoris designati rescindenda est."

"So he knows a little Latin," Gibbs shrugged.

"No," Kate shook her head in amazement. "He’s not pulling out a common word or phrase. He’s very confident in his responses. I’d say he’s fluent in Latin even if we don’t know what he’s saying."

"Is that a scroll in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?"

John paused and eyed Tony uncertainly before speaking. "Estne volumen in toga, an solum tibi libet me videre?"

"That’s enough," Gibbs decided with an aggravated sigh. "Did you hook up with Abby?"

"Not in the literal sense, but yeah," Tony joked. "She had to answer a call for another case, though. She’ll be right back."

"Tony, Kate, let’s go into the other room for a minute."

"You’re going to talk about me?" John asked.

"Yeah," Gibbs admitted truthfully. "Don’t answer the door, stay away from the windows, and don’t try to use the phone. If you’re not here when we get back, I’m going to shoot you."

"But if I’m not here how can you…"

"Just don’t even think about leaving," Gibbs interrupted sternly.

John held up his hands in supplication as the agents moved to the connecting door.

The last one to leave, Tony smiled at him. "It’s okay. I’ll be right back," he said as he pulled the door shut.

The little amount of coffee that remained in his cup was growing cold so John drained it in one gulp and stuffed the empty into one of the bags. He poked at the remains of his food but ended up folding it up in the wrapper and tossing it too. Before he could clean the rest of the table a female voice called from the other side of the room.

"Yo! Tony!"

Looking around in surprise, John checked the TV to make sure it was really off.

"Gibbs? Kate?"

The voice seemed to be coming from the desk so John approached it guardedly. "Hello?"

"Hello."

John’s jaw dropped when he realized the tiny woman in black on the much smaller screen was actually interacting with him, though her movements appeared a little jerky and her voice faded in and out ever so slightly. "Hi," he greeted again, mentally going over Gibbs’ orders. Nowhere on the list was talking to the TV so he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the computer closer to the edge of the desk.

"Whoa! Back up a little, I can’t see you," the woman requested. "See the camera?"

"No."

"The little round thingy? Looks like an alien? One eye?"

"Alien?" John asked in confusion, certain he would know an alien if he saw one. "This thing?" he pointed to the webcam.

"Yeah, turn it a little to the… yeah, yeah, that’s it. Stop! Right there, I gotcha. And may I just say ‘wow’. You’re a babe. Who are you?"

"I’m, uh, John. Well not really, that’s just what Tony decided to call me. John Doe."

"Oh yeah, you’re the witness," the girl crooned sympathetically. "You poor guy. I’m Abby."

"Hi Abby," John repeated his salutation a little more enthusiastically, thrilled to meet somebody new, somebody perhaps a little stranger than he was.

"So tell me about yourself."

"Um, I like coffee… and apparently I speak Latin. That’s pretty much it."

"You know Tony can help you with your hair."

"What’s wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing a little mousse can’t fix," Abby assured with a broad grin. "I’ll clue Tony in for you. What happened to your face?"

John fingered his temple and realized it was a bit sore. "I don’t remember."

"Huh. So… you got any tats?"

"What’s a tat?"

"Hi," the handsome young man smiled as he leaned on the counter.

Louise sighed, unmoved by his obvious charms. She was tired, her feet hurt and her back ached after the hellish shift she’d just pulled. Not to mention the fact that she knew a big juicy secret and she couldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone. The night clerk would be in in only fifteen more minutes but no, she just couldn’t catch a break. "What can I do for you?" she asked indifferently.

"Actually, it’s more like what I can do for you." He held up a stiff new one hundred dollar bill between his forefinger and thumb. "I need some information."

Knowing more or less where the conversation was headed, Louise shook her head tersely. Losing her job and going to jail were not on the top of her to-do list. Not for a measly hundred bucks, although it was tempting.

The stranger stroked his thumb along the back of the C-note and like magic it multiplied by five. "No one will ever know but you and me," he persuaded, holding the money like a hand of playing cards and fanning it gently under her nose.

"What do you want to know?" Louise asked, reaching for the money with a greedy gleam in her eye.

Gibbs turned to his people as soon as they were through the door. "Well?"

"He could be a translator for the UN. That might be why they grabbed him," Kate suggested.

"Uh, yeah, last time I checked, Latin’s a dead language," Tony pointed out acerbically.

"I just thought maybe he speaks other languages as well. Some people don’t stop at one or two if they have a knack for it, and frankly, that sounded like a knack to me. On the other hand, there are certain jobs where Latin is still spoken."

"I guarantee that man is not a priest," Gibbs scoffed. "He’s looking more and more like a soldier. Or maybe a spook."

"One of ours?" Kate asked.

"Don’t know. It’s just an impression. Tony, you get anything else?"

"Yeah, uh, he’s got a healed gunshot wound on the back of his thigh that doesn’t look very old," Tony brought up reluctantly.

"That’s interesting," Gibbs replied. "Give me your weapon."

Tony frowned at Kate as he handed over his Sig Sauer. "What? He was getting into the shower, I noticed the scar. I wasn’t looking at his ass."

"Did I say anything?"

"Everything is homoerotic with you lately. I gotta tell you, Kate, it’s getting old."

"I think you’re protesting too much," Kate replied coyly. "Besides, it’s not like you don’t give me plenty of ammunition."

"Like what?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Is that a scroll in your toga or are you just happy to see me," Kate quoted.

"Stop," Gibbs warned as he released the clip and handed it back to Tony. "Speaking of ammunition, empty that," he instructed as he checked the chamber. "So you think he might speak something other than Latin?"

"It’s possible," Kate shrugged.

"I’ll try a little Spanish on him," Tony said crabbily as he freed the rounds one by one until the clip was empty.

"I know a phrase or two in German," Kate volunteered.

"Okay, good," Gibbs agreed as he took the cleared clip from Tony and slapped it into the gun before sticking the whole thing into the back of his waistband. "Did you notice anything else?"

"He definitely works out," Kate mentioned. "Well he does," she sulked as her coworkers both rolled their eyes.

Gibbs shook his head as he opened the door and passed through, leaving Kate and Dinozzo to argue in his wake. John was at the mirror with his shirt pulled up. "What are you doing?" Gibbs inquired drolly.

"Looking for tats?" John replied uncertainly, lowering his shirt and lifting his head just as Gibbs brought the gun out from behind his back. He spun so fast, Gibbs didn’t have time to react to the hand at his throat or the leg sweep that took him down.

"John!" Tony shouted, already on his back and grabbing the arm that pinned Gibbs’ gun hand.

"Easy," Gibbs ordered as he stopped struggling, looking up into the wild eyes of the man on top of him.

"Come on, John," Tony urged gently.

John swallowed then slowly released Gibbs as Tony pulled him back, holding him tightly around the chest from behind.

"I’m sorry," John swore, heaving for breath. "But why? I didn’t try to leave."

"I wasn’t going to shoot you," Gibbs soothed, looking a little shell shocked as Kate helped him sit up and hovered by his shoulder. "That was a stupid move on my part. I should have known you would react that way."

"I didn’t even think about it, I just reacted." John sagged against Tony as the adrenaline rush subsided. "How could you know?"

Gibbs let out a pained laugh as he rubbed his throat. "Well for starters, you fought against your kidnappers. There was blood down the back of your jacket but none on your shirt or the back of your head."

"So it had to be his blood," John reasoned, still slightly breathless.

"I figure you head-butted the guy that grabbed you from behind," Gibbs explained.

"And you were good and dirty which points to a physical altercation, probably rolling around on the ground," Tony agreed. "Plus they couldn’t have punched you in the back while you were handcuffed to that chair. You didn’t go easy."

Tony climbed to his feet and offered John a hand up while Kate assisted Gibbs.

Gibbs gingerly pressed on his hip to check for damage, and then tested his weight bearing ability. Satisfied nothing but his pride was injured he faced John. "Let’s try this again."

"What?" John looked uneasy as he rubbed his own sore back.

"Just relax," Gibbs instructed as he handed him the weapon butt first this time.

John accepted it with a sigh, frowning at the weight. He checked the clip first, then the chamber before finally engaging the safety even though he now knew the gun wasn’t loaded. Lowering his arm to hold it straight down to his side, he looked at Gibbs questioningly. His grip was comfortable and firm with his finger resting lightly over the trigger.

Gibbs and Tony exchanged deliberate glances as Dinozzo reached out to retrieve his weapon.

"What?" John asked again, releasing it immediately.

"I’d say that’s a natural fit."

"You know your way around handguns," Tony interpreted, slipping the gun back into his holster then digging the bullets out of his pocket to reload the clip.

"John! Tony? Anybody?"

"Abby," Kate called out as she trotted over to the desk. "Hey!"

"What’s going on?" Abby scolded. "I couldn’t see! What was all that noise?"

"Oh Gibbs pulled one of his little experiments without warning anyone and it backfired on him."

"It didn’t backfire," Gibbs argued. "In fact it told me a hell of a lot."

"Right, a hell of a lot he’s obviously not going to share with the rest of us," Kate confided to Abby.

"Give him time. Gibbs likes to pick his moments. So did John find anything?"

"What kind of anything, Abs?" Gibbs questioned apprehensively as he shooed Kate out of the way and took her place in front of the camera.

"Tattoos, piercings, you know, body art."

"Ask Tony. Apparently he’s seen the whole package," Kate laughed as Tony glared at her and John looked back and forth between them, not quite blushing.

"What have you got on the prints, Abby?" Gibbs requested with the patience he always seemed to hold in reserve for the spirited forensic tech.

"Okay, we hit the jackpot right off the bat with two sets of prints in the military database. Both were Marines, one active, one not."

"Lance Corporal Jeremy K. Murdock?" Gibbs queried knowingly.

"Yep, that’s our active duty guy. He’s been in for four years but quit showing up for his guard duty gig at the Pentagon three days ago. Officially he’s listed as UA."

"Well now he’s DOA," Tony remarked, replacing the clip and sliding the gun back into his holster.

"Yeah, that’s the one we have dog tags for," Gibbs said with a nod. "What about the other one?"

"Master Sergeant Andrew Weber, no middle initial, called it quits when his enlistment was up last year after putting in eighteen."

"No body walks away that close to retirement," Gibbs argued. "Where was he stationed?"

"It’s hard to say, I think his record has been scrubbed. There’s some nonsense about deep space radar telemetry at NORAD, but it looks pretty bogus to me. My friend Ashton at NASA has never heard of it either. He thinks it might be a cover for some dark ops. I’m exploring other avenues."

"Any of this sound familiar to you?" Gibbs asked, turning to John.

"Maybe," John said, licking his lip and looking concerned. "Just, uh… what’s a NORAD?"

Gibbs grunted and turned back to Abby. "What about John Doe here?"

"No database match yet, but he was definitely in the cabin."

"We already knew that."

"Oh, and no match on the fourth set of prints either. And I don’t think we’re gonna get one."

"Why not?"

"Because unless bachelor number four just miraculously had the exact same scar on every single finger, his prints were surgically altered."

"Curioser and curioser," Tony replied.

"ETA on the bodies is like two hours from now and Ducky has been chomping at the bit ever since talking to you. The rest of the evidence should arrive some time before dawn, but I’ll hang out here in case Ducky finds anything on the any of the bods."

"Thanks, Abs. Good job."

"Wait! Let me talk to John," Abby requested before Gibbs could terminate the connection.

Gibbs released a long suffering sigh and moved away as John sat on the edge of the bed and without needing to be told again readjusted the camera. "Hi Abby," he said with a shy smile.

"Did you find anything?"

"No," John reported, sounding almost disappointed.

"Don’t feel bad. I’ll show you the rest of mine when you get here, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now let me talk to Tony."

"Christ," Gibbs swore, checking his gun and moving to the door. "I’m gonna take a quick look around outside before we bunk down. Don’t chat too long."

"I’ll go with you," Kate said.

"Something up, boss?"

"Just being cautious," Gibbs assured. "Abby, I’ll talk to you first thing in the morning."

"Sure thing, bossman."

Gibbs opened the door and glanced out into the hall. "Take the lobby. I’ll go down the stairs on the end. Meet me back here in ten minutes," he told Kate as they left.

"Tony?"

"What’s up, Abs," Tony asked, leaning over John into view.

"Mousse," Abby ordered, gesturing with her fingers. "Do the spiky thing."

Tony ran his hand through his longish hair. "You know I’m trying to get away from that look."

"Not you, igmo, John!"

"Igmo?"

"Yeah, it’s shorthand for ignoramus," Abby teased. "Promise me you’ll make him look good. It shouldn’t be hard."

"Abby, have I been replaced in your affections?" Tony asked, pretending to be hurt as he held a hand over his heart.

"Time and time again," Abby grinned back at him. "I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

"Bye Abby," John said with a timid little wave.

"Bye sweetie…" Abby purred as Tony disconnected the link and she disappeared.

"Oops."

"I like Abby," John decided.

Tony grinned. "This is gonna kill McGee."

"So what’s the big emergency?" Jack asked, still wearing civvies as he entered the briefing room and dropped his small carryall to the floor. He checked his watch then studied the other half of his similarly attired team.

"I’m not sure, sir," Major Carter reported as she stood from zipping an overnight bag. "We were just asked to pack a bag and meet you here."

"General Hammond has been preoccupied with phone calls since our arrival," Teal’c added from his location near the window overlooking the Stargate. "I believe him to be most displeased."

"You don’t think Daniel upset the apple cart in Washington, do you?" Jack asked casually. "Ruffled a few feathers maybe?"

"I doubt it, sir," Sam smirked. "Daniel is very diplomatic. That’s why they sent him and not you."

"Ha," Jack scoffed. "He’s also stubborn, insubordinate, and sarcastic as hell. You’d a thought Oma would have drilled some of that out of him while he was out there floating around the galaxy."

"SG-1," General Hammond greeted solemnly as he entered the room and took a seat at the table. The present three-fourths of the team found chairs as well. "Have any of you had contact with Doctor Jackson since he left for Washington?"

"Nope," Jack answered for the increasingly uneasy group. "But he’s only been gone since yesterday. He’ll probably call tomorrow if he’s not too busy hobnobbing with the brass. What’s going on, sir?"

"I spoke to Major Davis at the Pentagon earlier this evening," Hammond began gravely. "He informed me how much easier the briefing to the Oversight Committee would have gone if Doctor Jackson had been present."

"What?" Jack asked in surprise. "Daniel ditched the big meeting?"

Hammond held up a hand to forestall further questions until he could finish. "Then he told me he understood how painful a slipped disc could be and to tell Doctor Jackson to get better soon."

"Daniel Jackson sustained no such injury."

"Sir, I took Daniel to the airport myself," Sam gasped. "I saw him pass through security to the gates."

"And he got off of the plane in Washington," Hammond assured. "That’s been confirmed by airport security tapes."

"So where is he now?"

"All we know is a uniformed Marine met Doctor Jackson at Dulles. They left the terminal together."

"Davis sent a Marine to pick Daniel up?" Jack asked doubtfully.

"No, in fact he canceled the car he’d arraigned when he got the message that Doctor Jackson wasn’t coming."

"Oh God," Sam breathed. "Somebody took him."

"Major Davis has reported the incident to the proper authorities."

Teal’c clenched his jaw slightly but didn’t comment.

"Permission to take my team on a field trip, sir."

"Granted, Colonel, but I don’t have to remind you…"

"I know, sir," Jack sighed as they grabbed their bags and swiftly moved to the stairs, "It’s unofficial."

"For now," Hammond agreed as they clattered down the metal steps. "Bring him home safe," he requested to the empty room.

After cleaning off the table Tony taught John the finer points of solitaire. At the sound of the door opening in the next room, he reached for his gun and motioned for the witness to get down. John immediately rose to his feet and followed him towards the inner door instead.

"It’s us," Gibbs announced, entering the room with Kate right behind him.

Tony relaxed his stance but shot John a disapproving look which John chose to ignore.

"The parking lot looks like a damned network news convention and we settled right in the thick of it."

"It is the closest motel to the fishing camp," Kate pointed out. "It’s not like we planned it."

"Yeah, and they don’t know we’re here. Yet," Tony replied. "The clerk who checked us in figured us out but I swore her to secrecy."

John cleared his throat. "Actually, he threatened to throw her in jail," he elaborated.

"That’s our Tony," Kate remarked wryly. "Subtle."

"Gracias, amigo" Tony replied sarcastically to John, "Por pegar un cuchillo en mi parte posteriora."

"Usted es agradable. No piense nada en él," John retorted with a smile.

"Smart ass," Tony huffed. "Well, apparently our little polyglot here speaks Spanish as well as Latin."

"We’re not going to do party tricks again, are we?" John asked charily.

"Why don’t you just save time and tell us if you speak any other languages?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

"Because I don’t know," John insisted. "I didn’t know that I spoke Spanish until I heard what Tony said and then I just understood and answered."

"Kate speaks German," Tony remembered.

"I didn’t say that," Kate objected immediately. "I said I knew a few phrases in German… well, one actually."

"Let’s hear it," Gibbs prodded.

"Okay, um, keep in mind it’s been awhile," Kate warned John.

"How long," Tony just had to ask.

"College," Kate explained. "One of my sorority sisters set me up with her German cousin before graduation and had me learn a traditional greeting to make him feel at home. He turned out to be a real jerk…" Kate trailed off at Gibbs annoyed look. "Never mind. Uh, let’s see… my pronunciation will probably be appalling."

"Spit it out!"

"Okay, okay. Kommen sie ich mit dine hosen in dine han. There," Kate said proudly. "That came out better than I though it would."

John stared at her and rubbed a hand slowly down his face.

"I’d say German’s a bust," Tony noted.

"I don’t think so," Gibbs countered, watching John’s reaction closely.

John raised a finger as if to make a point. "You say a friend taught you to say that?"

"Well, no, more of an acquaintance. In fact we had a little tiff over a man our sophomore year and I don’t think she ever really got over it. Why? Was the pronunciation that bad?"

"No, ah… what do you think you just said?"

"It’s a simple ‘have a nice day’ kind of greeting," Kate explained with a shrug. "I forget the exact meaning."

John winced.

"What’d she really say?" Tony practically begged, grinning wolfishly.

"Come and see me with your pants in your hand," John translated sympathetically.

"That bitch," Kate exclaimed under her breath as Tony howled.

"Alright, settle down," Gibbs ordered after allowing Tony a minute to get it out of his system, barely managing to keep a neutral expression himself. Tony finally wiped his eyes and tried in vain to keep a straight face as Kate brooded.

"Here’s what we’re gonna do," Gibbs instructed, looking at his watch. "It’s almost twenty-three hundred now and I want us on the road by oh five thirty. Maybe we can sneak out of here before the news people catch wind of us. Tonight we’ll each do two hour shifts."

"I can pull a watch," John volunteered, quickly doing the math in his head.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"That’s what you mean, right? That each of you will pull a two hour watch. If you let me do one too then everybody gets more sleep."

"John, buddy, you are what we’ll be watching," Tony broke the news.

"Oh," John uttered in surprise. "Sorry, I forgot. This just felt so… familiar."

"Tony, you‘ve been babysitting the longest so you can go last," Gibbs granted. "Kate, do you want first or second watch?"

"First, if you don’t mind. I can never get back to sleep if I have to get up during the night."

"Suits me," Gibbs granted. "Okay, Tony, let’s go."

"Get some rest," Tony told John, patting him on the back as he grabbed his pack and followed Gibbs to the other room.

"Is that really what I said?" Kate turned to ask John as soon as the door closed and Tony was out of earshot.

John nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. Sorry."

Kate smiled a little and tried to herd him towards the bed. "Come on, get some sleep."

"I’m not tired," John insisted, standing firm. "I feel fine after the nap in the car and then a shower and some coffee. I feel like I could stay up all night."

"You should at least try to rest."

John groaned in frustration, scratching his head. "I wish I had something to read. They had magazines at the clinic."

"Yeah?" Kate teased. "You must have picked up lots of tips on dating and diets."

"And cooking," John joked. "I still don’t understand why the one that said ‘lose thirty pounds in thirty days’ had a picture of a chocolate cake on the cover."

"Nobody understands that, John," Kate chuckled. "Don’t you want to at least try to sleep?"

"I don’t think so," John sighed forlornly.