Stardust page 2 of 2
Working twenty-
She thought talking to Ducky might help but knew at the moment the coroner was napping on the cot in his office after attempting abbreviated autopsies on the three burned corpses. Unfortunately, they had proved too desiccated for the procedure and literally crumbled away under his knife. He had scheduled a CAT scan for one of them around ten and she would rather lay on her futon and stew than wake the old dear in the meantime.
Finally she gave up and climbed off her cushion, wandering back into the lab. Picking up the strange metallic button she rolled it between her fingers as she studied the photo of the bruise on John’s face, comparing the size and shape. Glancing around guiltily even though she was sure she was alone, she went back to her desk and dug out the mirror from her bag.
Her hand shook slightly as she held the device gingerly between her thumb and forefinger and watched in the mirror as she raised it close to her temple.
“Do not!” an impossibly deep voice shouted as the glass door slid open causing her to jump, drop the mirror, and unintentionally press the object to her skin.
Abby screamed at the unexpected pain shooting through her head. She clenched her eyes shut and suddenly there were hands on her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” an unfamiliar female voice soothed. “The worst is over, it won’t hurt you any more.”
“Get it off!” Abby managed without opening her eyes.
“Don’t move,” the woman instructed and with one more tiny sting the pressure was gone.
Feeling shaky as she opened her eyes, Abby watched the blonde woman slip the device into her jacket pocket. “What is that thing?” she asked shakily.
“Sorry,” the woman smiled apologetically as she shook her head.
“You can’t take it,” Abby insisted a little stronger. “That’s evidence on a murder case.”
“Murder?” the woman asked with concern, still crouched in front of Abby.
“Who has been murdered?” the deep voice asked and Abby finally registered the dark mountain of a man in a fedora looming over her.
“Whoa,” Abby exclaimed sitting back in her chair. “Nice hat. Who are you people?”
“I’m Major Samantha Carter and this is my associate T… uh, Murray.”
“You don’t look Navy to me,” Abby dissented, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “You can’t be in here.”
Major Carter rose to her feet. “Actually, we’re with the Air Force. We’re looking for our colleague Doctor Daniel Jackson.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abby lied, worried about her friend John and not willing to put him in any more danger.
“Look, we already know you were trying to get information on Daniel. Just please, tell us he’s okay,” Carter pleaded fearfully. “He’s not the murder victim is he?”
“No,” Abby broke, torn by the anxiety in the woman’s face. “He’s fine. He’s in protective custody. At least we think it’s him.”
“Please explain,” Murray insisted.
“I can’t give you any details, but the man they’re bringing in has lost his memory…” Abby trailed off at the alarmed look the two visitors gave each other. “Now you have to leave. There is very sensitive information in this office and your presence here may even nullify evidence.”
“Pack it up,” a gray-
“Stop!” Abby flew out of her chair only to be restrained by Murray.
“Ms. Sciuto,” Director Morrow addressed Abby as he stepped through the door. “We don’t have a choice in the matter. This investigation is no longer in our hands.”
“But sir!”
“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill,” the tall man introduced himself. “And this is a matter of national security. Now I need you to tell me everything you know about this case.”
Defeated, Abby slumped against the hard chest behind her. “Gibbs is gonna freak,” she muttered tiredly.
***
“How’s that profile coming, Kate?” Gibbs asked with a devilish grin as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
Kate glowered back at him. “How do you think?”
After reading for several hours John had finally succumbed to sleep, cradling the open book in his arms against his chest. He snored softly in concert with Tony who was currently cuddled up with the passenger door.
“I hate the backseat,” Kate complained under her breath, ignoring the snort from Gibbs as she focused her attention on the passing scenery out the side window. When the car began to slow she sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
Gibbs swore under his breath as he fell in with the cars and trucks trying to squeeze into one lane in front of him, essentially coming to a standstill. “Looks like a wreck up ahead.”
“Damn,” Kate exclaimed, taking in the unmoving row of traffic lined up over the hill. “At this rate we’ll never get home.”
“Never say never,” Gibbs replied as he turned the car onto the shoulder and began to edge past the stationary vehicles to his left.
“Passing on the right is illegal,” Kate stated conversationally, not at all surprised to be ignored.
When they crested the rise they could see a jackknifed truck across both northbound lanes in the valley below them. A tow truck was on the scene amid the flash of lights from the highway patrol cars, but no one seemed to be actually doing anything. Ominously, another set of blue lights flashed them from behind and an angry state trooper also using the shoulder as a lane motioned them off of the road.
Gibbs glared at Kate in the mirror, daring her to say a word as he pulled off the shoulder onto the dirt. Kate wisely kept the ‘I told you so’ unspoken.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the patrolman growled at Gibbs a minute later when he stormed up to the window.
“This is official NCIS business,” Gibbs informed the man tersely as he opened his badge and then showed his ID. “We need to get into DC as soon as possible.”
The cop bent slightly to check out the car, watching as first Tony then John woke up and looked around. “See that dirt road,” the officer said at last, seemingly satisfied that nothing was amiss as he pointed down the interstate in the direction of the wreck.
“Yeah,” Gibbs nodded, spotting the unmarked turnoff about a quarter mile down the hill.
“That’ll take you over to highway 50 if you don’t mind a shortcut.”
“Ha! Shortcut is Gibbs’ middle name,” Tony muttered as he rubbed his eyes and automatically turned to check on John.
“It’s rough,” the trooper warned. “You might be better off waiting in line here.”
“We’ll take our chances,” Gibbs replied. “Thanks.”
Kate sighed and tugged the book out of John’s arms as Gibbs slowly began to steer the car back onto the shoulder. “Trust me; you won’t be able to read,” she told him as she closed it and dropped it into the seat between them.
John gave it up without a fight and looked over his shoulder as the trooper spoke into the radio on his shoulder. The cop smiled at him broadly as they pulled away.
***
Not allowed into her own lab while they cleaned out the evidence related to the case, Abby paced the hall just outside. The behemoth who stood guard over the door seemed aware that only the orders from her Director and not his impressive mass nor the thinly veiled threats from the Colonel kept her out.
“No harm will come to your personal belongings or to your equipment,” Murray offered to calm her.
She turned to glare at him, realizing he was studying her intently. “What are you looking at?” she challenged.
“I am looking at the markings on your skin,” came the unexpectedly honest answer. “May I?”
Abby froze in indecision as she continued to stare at him. The man seemed genuinely interested if a little odd. He took her reticence as approval and moved forward to brush a pigtail out of the way to better observe the spider web on the back of her neck.
“What is the significance of this design?”
“It’s personal,” Abby snapped at him, stepping back. “I wouldn’t expect someone
like you to understand the concept of self-
Murray did a visual check of the door behind him then raised the brim of his hat slightly to reveal a beautiful gold tattoo embedded in his forehead.
“Whoa,” Abby breathed appreciatively. “Facial. I bet you never get to testify.”
With a formal bow of his head Murray lowered his hat just as an angry Ducky flew
out of the elevator. “There’s a military force in the morgue and they’re absconding
with all three bodies…” Ducky faltered mid-
“Let’s just say we lost jurisdiction over the case,” Abby explained as Ducky tilted her chin and examined the blossoming bruise.
“To whom?”
“Believe it or not, the Air Force. At least that’s what they’re claiming,” Abby reported doubtfully.
Ducky frowned at the imposing man guarding the lab before gently touching Abby’s face again. “Did he do this to you?”
Murray merely raised an eyebrow at the accusation.
“Of course not,” Abby grimaced. “I did something stupid. Please don’t tell Gibbs.”
“I won’t have to,” Ducky harrumphed as he narrowed his eyes, recognizing the size and shape of the bruise from the photo Abby had shown him earlier. “And I very much doubt he will approve of your method of investigation.”
“Yeah, I know. They’re taking everything, Ducky,” Abby sighed as she glanced back at her door worriedly, “Including John when he gets here.”
“No harm will come to Daniel Jackson,” Murray promised. “He will be among friends.”
“I hope so,” Abby said sliding down the wall to sit in the floor while they waited, too tired to pace anymore.
***
“So John,” Kate began as the car careened up and down bumpy little hills leaving a plume of dust behind them. She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard. “Are you still experiencing memory flashes?”
Unable to read due to the rough ride and strapped into the back seat next to her, John felt a little trapped. Tony turned in his seat and offered him a sympathetic look but Gibbs kept his eyes on the road although he was certainly listening. Taking a deep breath then blowing it out slowly through his mouth, John stared out the window for a second before answering. “Yes.”
Kate startled as if she hadn’t really expected a response, especially not that one. “You are?”
“Yes,” John repeated.
“How often?
John shrugged. “Pretty regularly, I don’t let them get to me as much anymore.” He held up a hand to ward off the inevitable next question. “One or two an hour,” he elaborated. “Nothing too dramatic for the most part, just faces or, ah, places I think I might have been. Exotic places,” he added with a meaningful if fleeting look at Tony.
“Really?” Tony asked, also surprised by the revelation and a little irritated with himself that he hadn’t even suspected. In fact he’d proudly thought that all was well and good with John since their talk.
“What do you remember exactly,” Gibbs asked, cutting to the chase.
Shifting uncomfortably in the seat, John avoided making eye contact with anyone. “I’m still not a hundred percent certain, but I think my name really is Daniel. Somehow that feels right.”
“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Kate noted as she reached out to squeeze his forearm.
“I’m not so sure that’s who I want to be. Daniel’s memories are um, unnerving to say the least. And I think he killed those men,” John continued objectively.
Gibbs glanced up sharply. “How?”
“You don’t have to answer that,” Tony warned, reaching out to grab the dash as Gibbs abruptly stopped the car. They all lurched forward then slammed back against the seats. “You have the right to remain silent and you have the right to an attorney,” Tony finished defiantly.
“DiNozzo.”
“Gibbs, I guarantee you he does not understand his rights,” Tony argued. “He may act like he knows what’s going on but in reality I believe he’s just playing along most of the time.”
“Tony’s right,” Kate jumped in. “We’re on pretty shaky Miranda grounds here.”
“I’m not looking for a confession. The man was handcuffed to a chair and unconscious,” Gibbs pointed out gruffly. “Unless he did a backwards Houdini I don’t see how he could have possibly done it. But I would like to know why he thinks he did.”
“Oh,” Tony said, his righteous indignation melting away. With a sickening epiphany, he knew his emotional attachment to the victim was affecting his judgment.
“Yeah, sorry,” Kate added guiltily.
“It’s okay,” John soothed. “If I did something wrong I should be punished.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony groused, turning back to face the windshield.
“How do you know?” John pressed as expected.
Weary of questions, Tony shook his head and didn’t answer. ‘I just know’ was not going to cut it with Gibbs, or John either.
“Why do you think you killed those men?” Gibbs asked, turning fully in the seat to observe John’s answer.
“I don’t… I don’t think he meant to do it,” John faltered slightly. “I think it was just a reflex or… or maybe something programmed into him. I don’t know.”
“Programmed?” Gibbs prodded.
“They touched something in his mind they weren’t supposed to. They triggered something, a memory maybe and he just went off.”
“So you killed them with your mind,” Gibbs stated concisely.
“Yes, he did.”
Gibbs turned back around and put the car in gear. The tires spun slightly where they had settled in soft sand and they fishtailed as they made it back to the harder surface of the road.
“You don’t believe me,” John stated, ice in his voice.
“No,” Gibbs allowed quietly. “I think DiNozzo is right, you don’t understand what’s going on. And you keep referring to yourself in third person so obviously, you don’t think you did it either.”
John rubbed his ear as they drove on in silence.
***
“Well?” Jack asked as Sam looked up from Abby’s computer.
“It’s him,” Sam smiled in obvious relief. “I just verified the fingerprints they have for their John Doe with the ones on file at the SGC for Daniel. If they had had access they would have already identified him.”
“That lab girl said except for his memory he’s a little beat up but fine.”
“Yes sir, she seemed to be quite taken with him.”
“That figures,” Jack grumbled as he sat on the edge of the desk. “So the wiped memory along with the French fried stiffs… this has Oma Desala written all over it. Do these people have any clue what happened?”
“I doubt it, but there are some interesting leads,” Sam said, pointing to the file in front of her. “Do you remember Master Sergeant Andrew Weber?”
“Weber,” Jack pondered for a moment, “That smart ass Marine who used to be in charge of the gate guards? Didn’t he quit last year?”
“Yes sir, he walked away from his pension. He said he had a civilian offer that was too good to pass up. It was suspicious so they kept tabs on him for awhile before he mysteriously vanished a couple months later.”
“NID recruited him,” Jack stated with certainty. “They have a nasty habit of making people disappear.”
“Well he’s one of the ‘French fried stiffs’.”
“Really. Who are the other two? Anybody else we know?”
“No sir.” Sam handed over the file. “One was the young Marine on the security tape who picked Daniel up at the airport. He has no ties to the SGC and was probably recruited as muscle by Weber specifically for this operation. We may never know who the other man was without viable prints or DNA.”
“This looks familiar,” Jack said after thumbing through the file. He held up an image of part of a face. “I’d know that lobeless ear anywhere. And I don’t even have to guess where that particular mark came from.”
“They somehow used a memory device on him,” Sam agreed. “We’ve got the interface; Ms. Sciuto literally had it on her when we came in. But there’s no handheld portion with the rest of the physical evidence, and the Tok’ra have the only Zatarc machine to operate it as far as we know.”
“Wait a minute, when we found Daniel last time you said that thing wouldn’t bring back his memories anyway.”
“That was the general consensus at the time. I still don’t see how it could work unless they modified it or supplemented it in some way we didn’t think of.”
“And they did it without the Zan… Zac… uh, Tok’ra thing?”
“I think they built their own control,” Carter explained, getting to her feet and moving into the lab without looking back, knowing her CO would follow. She rummaged through the box of evidence and pulled out a strange looking mechanism. “See this? According to the notes they’re assuming it’s some sort of torture device because it had Daniel’s blood on it.”
Jack’s lip thinned. “You sure it’s not?”
“I think it’s some type of delivery system.” Sam pushed on the tip and it disappeared back into the head of the gadget. When she pressed the button it snapped back out with a little sizzle of electricity.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Jack balked.
“I don’t think so. It’s probably just a short. But look at the very end. It has a tiny clamp that opens when it pops out.”
“That holds what?”
“Something very small and very flat,” Sam reasoned as she studied the implement carefully and not for the first time.
“Like a computer chip?” Jack asked. “They tagged him.”
Sam looked up in surprise, her eyes growing wide. “I was thinking more along the lines of some type of internal power booster, but that’s a definite possibility, sir.”
“They could be tracking him right now.”
“I have the cell number of the agent in charge of the group that’s bringing him in.”
“Yeah, good,” Jack decided thoughtfully. “We should probably call and give ‘em a heads up just in case.”
***
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked quietly. “Is it your ear again?”
Tony turned around at the worried tone and frowned to find John pale and gasping quietly as he clutched at his ear. “Gibbs.”
“Give him some Motrin,” Gibbs advised Kate, unable to do anything else at the moment but drive. “If it’s bad we’ll take him straight to Ducky.”
“Maybe we should go to the nearest hospital,” Tony suggested. “You’ve seen his back, he never once complained about the pain. This must be bad.”
Gibbs nodded his agreement as he checked the rearview mirror. His frown intensified as they started up the next hill which curved on the incline. “We’ve got company.”
Tony shifted his concerned gaze from John to the window. Briefly he spotted a dark gray panel truck that was rapidly gaining on them before the road straightened and he could see nothing but their own trail of dust.
“I don’t have anything to give him and the Motrin is in the trunk,” Kate replied after digging through her purse looking for any kind of pain medication.
John cried out and Kate pulled him to her as much as their seatbelts would allow. He fell into the embrace without complaint and shook slightly as he huddled against her. As they rounded the next curve Gibbs slammed on the brakes sending the car sliding sideways, narrowly avoiding the large pine tree that completely blocked the road.
“Dammit!” Gibbs swore, smacking his hand against the steering wheel as dirt and gravel thrown up by the near miss rained down on them. “This is starting to feel like an ambush.”
“How is he?” Tony asked as he opened his door, waving away the settling dust.
“Not good,” Kate said anxiously, rocking the moaning man in her arms as he clamped a hand firmly over his ear.
“Hang in there, buddy,” Tony offered with one last apprehensive glance. He got out of the car and jumped across the ditch to scout the base of the tree while Gibbs backtracked around the curve.
“Tony!” Kate shouted a minute later as John went limp.
DiNozzo scrambled back onto the road and yanked the car door open just as Gibbs came trotting into sight with his weapon drawn. Kate undid her seatbelt as Tony unfastened John’s. Together they managed to stretch him out the length of the seat with his head in Kate’s lap.
“His pulse is too fast,” Kate said as her fingers lingered at John’s throat.
“Damn,” Gibbs swore as he dropped down next to Tony and saw the state of the witness. “The truck has stopped in the middle of the road just around the bend. They seem to know we aren’t going anywhere.”
“Yeah, the tree was downed with a chain saw. Recently, today even, the cut is still moist,” Tony reported without taking his eyes off of John.
Gibbs put away his gun and pulled out his cell phone, surprised to get even a weak signal as it began to ring. “It’s Abby,” he said, looking at the display.
***
O’Neill played with the variety of pens on the desk while he waited for the call to go through and the agent named Gibbs to answer his cell.
“Abby, listen up, we’re in trouble,” a male voice started as soon as the phone clicked, sans any usual greeting.
“What kind of trouble?” Jack asked, leaning forward in his chair in concern. He frowned at the bad connection.
“Who the hell is this?” the man demanded after a brief, static-
“This is Colonel Jack O’Neill…”
“Say again?” Gibbs requested, raising his voice to be heard over the increasing interference.
“I said I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill, United States Air Force,” Jack repeated a little louder. “I assume you are Agent Gibbs?”
“Good guess,” Gibbs answered shortly. “Put Abby on.”
“You’ve got one of my people,” Jack retorted. “And you might as well know I’m taking charge of this investigation. So I repeat; what kind of trouble are you in?”
“Look, Colonel,” Gibbs snarled. “Don’t confuse your rank with my authority. I need to speak with someone I trust. Now!”
“Oh for cryin’ out loud. Carter,” Jack barked, “Get the lab girl back in here.”
Sam sprinted out the door and came back half a minute later followed by an anxious Abby and Teal’c. Jack hit the speaker phone. “Go ahead,” he told Abby.
“Gibbs, they’ve taken everything, all the evidence, even the bodies. Right now they’re deleting stuff from the computers…”
“Abby!” Gibbs broke in. “Listen to me, use the GPS function of my phone to find us and send backup. We’re pinned down by unfriendlies and the witness is in some kind of distress.”
“I’m on it,” Abby replied, practically pushing Jack out of her chair as she attacked her keyboard.
“Carter, get us a helicopter and some SFs,” Jack ordered. Sam opened her cell phone and moved just outside the sliding doors as she spoke rapidly.
“Did Mor… really turn over… case?” Gibbs asked Abby while he impatiently waited, his voice cracking up badly.
“He had to,” Jack explained for the tech, not wanting to distract her. “We’ve got a Presidential order.”
“Abs?” Gibbs sought confirmation.
“Yeah, it’s true,” Abby said without looking up as her fingers worked their magic. “How’s John?”
“Daniel,” Jack corrected automatically.
There was another pause and the connection sputtered ominously. “Not… great,” Gibbs finally said.
“Major Davis had two MH-
“Gibbs, I’ve got you!” Abby shouted as she grabbed a pen and rapidly wrote down the coordinates.
“Hang on, Gibbs,” Jack advised, snatching the paper out of Abby’s hand almost before she could finish writing on it. “The cavalry’s coming.”
“Gibbs?” Abby called out as the uninvited visitors hurriedly exited her office but the line was already dead.
***
“Gibbs?” Kate prodded, sounding uneasy.
“Damn, I lost her.”
“Battery?” DiNozzo questioned as he flipped open his own phone and got nothing but static. “I guess not.”
“They’re probably jamming us,” Gibbs mused, resisting the urge to lob the useless piece of technology into the debris of the fallen pine.
“They can do that?” Kate asked, still cradling John’s head in her lap.
“Kate, they held up traffic on a major interstate for God knows how long. I don’t think blocking a simple radio signal is gonna be a big problem for them. Besides, there are all kinds of antennae on that truck.”
“So what do we do now?” Tony asked quietly.
Gibbs rubbed his gritty eyes. “We take cover and hope the cavalry arrives in time. Even by helicopter it’s going to take them a while to get here.”
“You don’t think they’ll open fire, do you? Surely they won’t risk injuring John if they want him,” Kate insisted.
“Who knows? They may have got what they wanted and have come to kill him to keep him from talking,” Gibbs reasoned.
Clenching his teeth and staying low, Tony suddenly reached into the car and grabbed John by the shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s not safe in there,” Tony said. “At least on the outside there are two pieces of metal for the bullets to pass through if things get hinkey.” With a grunt as he eased John off Kate’s lap, grateful for the assist when Gibbs leaned in to help move the deadweight.
John groaned and protested feebly as they pulled him out. Kate followed and shut the door behind her, guiding them as they lowered John to sit in front of the back tire.
Tony patted John’s cheek until one blue eye squinted open to peer up at him. “Hey buddy, you okay?” he asked, managing to sound cheerful and unafraid.
“Wha’ happened,” John slurred as he tried to focus on Tony’s face.
Gibbs pulled his gun and hunkered down at the corner of the car on the back end to monitor the area.
“Does your ear still hurt?” Kate sat down beside John and offered him a drink from the bottle of water she’d had in her bag.
Dazed and confused, John shook his head slightly as he accepted the water and promptly spilled it. “Sorry,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the car and closing his eyes.
“It’s okay,” Kate assured. She helped him hold the bottle as he gulped down a few mouthfuls. With her free hand she took a pulse at his wrist. “His heart rate’s down some but still a little fast.”
“One of you needs to go around by the front bumper and keep a lookout,” Gibbs ordered brusquely.
Tony moved to get up but Kate grabbed his arm. “You stay,” she offered with a small smile. After glancing at John, Tony nodded and took the water as he settled back down in front of him. He put the cap on it and set it aside while Kate checked her gun then moved into position.
“What’s going on?” John queried in a much more coherent voice as he finally opened his eyes again.
“We’re trapped,” Tony told him truthfully. “They’re coming for you.”
John held his gaze steadily for a minute. “I’ll go.”
“No.”
“Not gonna happen,” Gibbs backed Tony up. “You’re my responsibility and those bastards are not getting their hands on you on my watch.”
“I don’t want anyone to die because of me,” John insisted heatedly. “Let me go with them and you can follow.”
“John, if they take you, the chances are they won’t leave us alive,” Tony pointed out. “If they want a fight, we’ll give them one but we’re not just gonna hand you over.”
“I’ve got movement,” Kate warned, “In the bushes at ten o’clock from my position.”
Gibbs nodded for Tony to take his place as he moved to the front end of the car with Kate. Drawing his weapon, Tony felt John tug at his jacket and realized the man was pulling out his secondary gun from his holster. Their eyes met again and Tony gave John a tiny smile as they turned to take firing positions over the trunk.
Without warning something round and silver sailed over their heads to land in the tangle of limbs next to Kate. There was a high pitched whine that steadily grew in volume, but no smoke or gas.
“Move!” Gibbs shouted as Tony pushed John away from the car and towards the ditch. Kate went out the other direction with Gibbs right behind her.
When John stumbled and fell Tony threw himself over him just as an explosion of white light detonated, sending a shockwave of energy careening over them. Further from the blast Tony managed to turn his head to take in the scene. Gibbs went down hard and Kate lay motionless a few feet beyond him.
Feeling like he was moving in slow motion Tony fumbled for his cuffs and managed to hook John’s left wrist to his own before tossing his keys away. Booted feet stepped into view and Tony attempted to raise his gun but an electrical charge surrounded him, encompassing John as well and sending them both to oblivion.
***
“Got him,” the man reported into his radio as he stuck his zat gun into the waistband of his pants. “Bring the truck up.” He bent to roll the body off his target, frowning to find them chained together. “Damn it,” he muttered, searching the interloper’s pockets for the key.
The truck rumbled into sight, gracelessly turned around on the rutted road then backed towards him as he guided it in. “You got any handcuff keys?” the man called out to the driver as he stepped out of the cab.
“Why would I? Check the other two.”
“There’s no time for that,” the other, smaller man admonished as he opened the back doors from the inside. “They might have gotten a message out. We need to clear the area.”
The first man sighed and tugged the zat out, aiming it at Tony for the second shot.
“No,” the scientist ordered. “That’s too risky. Doctor Jackson will be more cooperative if we have another hostage anyway.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” the driver complained, reluctant to lug around the extra weight on the say so of the geek.
“I do. Bring them both.”
With a sigh of annoyance the driver joined his accomplice and they each grabbed a man under the arms to drag them in tandem to the truck. After much heaving and grunting, they finally managed to wrangle them none too gently inside.
“Wait a minute.” Dropping back to the ground the first man rounded the car, stepped over Gibbs and kicked his way into the sharp, piney limbs of the tree to retrieve the round device. “Go,” he shouted, jumping into the back as the truck pulled away.
***
John couldn’t seem to shake the bizarre hallucination of being dragged along the ground then manhandled into a metal box. But the sand in his shoes along with the pain as he was unceremoniously dumped on top of something lumpy and warm led him to believe what he was experiencing might be real. There was a loud slam and he was aware of movement around and over him as the ground began to sway and bump in a nauseating way that reminded him of Gibbs’ driving. A disconcerting moan sounded very close to his ear.
“Neanderthals,” a voice above him complained and suddenly he was being pushed and tugged off his rather comfortable padding. He managed to open his eyes but was confused to find a now familiar head of hair at an odd angle under his shoulder and a worried face he didn’t recognize behind oversized glasses staring down at him.
“Doctor Jackson, could you roll just a smidgen? I believe you are squishing your friend.”
“Tony,” John rasped out as he dug deep for the energy to move. He slid sideways along the floor of a relatively large vehicle, wincing at the heavy pull on his left wrist as an extra arm moved with him. Snaking out his tremulous right hand to hold over Tony’s mouth and nose, he was relieved to feel regular, intermittent puffs of warm air against his palm.
“I understand the first time one is subjected to a zatnikertel it takes a while to recover,” the small man prattled on as he grabbed DiNozzo by the legs and laboriously straightened him as best he could. “I’m happy to say I have no first hand knowledge of that. But you certainly do.” Although panting slightly with the exertion, he managed to keep up the nervous monologue the entire time he arranged Tony’s limbs.
“You probably don’t even remember the first time you experienced one. What am I saying? Of course you don’t remember, you don’t remember anything at the moment. That’s such a shame really because I have so many things I’d like to ask you. Did you know that you’ve been zatted more times than any other human? In fact you’ve been on the receiving end of more alien technology than any one else on Earth including Goa’uld hand devices and staff blasts, some of which were fatal by the way. They keep records of everything, you know. No, you probably weren’t aware of that. There,” he said at last, finally satisfied with his handiwork as Tony lay on his back in an eerie, unnaturally rigid position with his right arm draped over his abdomen.
Still disoriented, John managed to rise up on an elbow with the stranger’s assistance to have a look around the dim, computer filled confines. “Who are you?” he asked when his blurry gaze finally came back around to his little helper.
“Yes! Hello. I’m Doctor Oliver Huntington. I’m a psycho-
“Me?” John asked in surprise, his voice still rough.
“Aw, yes, you still don’t know who you are, do you? You are Doctor Daniel Jackson; archaeologist, linguist, diplomat, lateral thinker and all around genius… and space explorer extraordinaire. Although very few people know about that last one,” Oliver gushed giddily. “I can’t believe you’re here. I must confess to a bit of hero worship where you’re concerned.”
John blinked, gathering Tony awkwardly to his chest as he used his feet to push away from the crazy little man. To his chagrin, Oliver jumped right in and helped him until they were settled up against the back door, Tony slumped in his arms.
“That’s better,” Oliver said, appearing pleased as he brushed the hair out of Tony’s eyes. “He’s an excellent specimen, isn’t he? He’ll be fine.”
Tightening his grip around Tony protectively John merely stared at the man who purported to know far more about him than he did about himself.
***
Consciousness slammed into Gibbs with a sledgehammer in the guise of a headache. The frantic orders from his brain to move were summarily dismissed by his mutinous limbs as his body continued to lie where it fell. His eyes were useless, leaving him in the dark although he was fairly certain they were open and the warm sun on the exposed side of his face signified daylight.
Forcing his head up, he spit out a mouthful of sand. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, trying to get his bearings. “Kate? DiNozzo?” With no answer forthcoming he tried once again to get up on all fours, grateful beyond measure to succeed this time. Running his hand over the ground in front of him in a grid pattern he quickly located his weapon and secured it in his holster. Still on his knees he reached to his right until his fingertips brushed the prickly needles of the downed pine.
Since Kate had been closest to the blast he crawled forward following the edge of the tree and sweeping the other hand out in front of him along the ground until he brushed against the sole of a shoe. “Kate,” he called out again, shaking the foot. Getting no answer he cautiously ran his hands up her legs as he progressed towards her head in search of broken bones and gaping wounds. Luckily the mental vision he’d had of flying shrapnel proved false and he found no obvious injuries, but Kate didn’t stir under his ministrations either.
In the distance he could hear the beating blades of an approaching helicopter, more than one to Gibbs’ well trained ear. By the time he reached Kate’s torso the noise was intense and the sand around them began to whip violently. Gibbs closed his eyes and ducked his face as he bent to cover Kate’s head with his arms, unsure if the cavalry had in fact arrived in time. He was sickeningly certain it hadn’t. Within minutes the roar and the created wind died down, replaced by the sound of running feet. Gibbs reached for his gun just in case.
“All clear,” an unknown male in a distinct military tone called out a minute later.
“Gibbs?”
“Yeah,” Gibbs sighed and fell onto his back as he recognized the Colonel’s voice. “I can’t see. Did they take the witness?”
“Yeah, they got him,” came the hard answer.
“I can’t get Agent Todd to wake up,” Gibbs went on despondently. “How’s DiNozzo?”
“Uh, there’s not anyone else here,” a female said as a hand touched his arm to help him sit up.
“What? He was over there… somewhere,” Gibbs pointed to where he thought the back of the car should be, squinting as he noticed streaks of light starting to form.
“Two bodies were dragged to this spot then lifted into a large vehicle,” a new, deeper voice stated with certainty from several feet away.
“What the hell happened here and why would they take DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned adamantly. “Somebody talk to me, dammit.”
“The effects you’re feeling will wear off soon,” the woman assured, not really answering his question as even more people gathered around him. “But we’ll get you checked out anyway.”
“Concussion grenade?” the Colonel asked in a quiet aside evidently not meant for Gibbs to hear.
“I think so.”
“What’s a concussion grenade?” Gibbs demanded as he was helped to his feet
“Sorry,” O’Neill said. “Need to know.”
Gibbs was nudged out of the way and although objects were only beginning to take on actual shapes he knew Kate was being loaded onto a backboard. He relaxed a little when she finally let out a low groan of dissent. Someone led him to the car and seated him in the front on the passenger side.
A hand waved in front of his face and he slapped it away. “I see your vision’s coming back,” O’Neill noted wryly squatting down in front of him. “The man you had in protective custody is Doctor Daniel Jackson.”
“We had a tentative ID,” Gibbs confirmed. “I guess he knows some pretty important things?”
“He’s important,” O’Neill agreed. “He’s also important to me personally, to all of us,” he amended as someone nearby cleared her throat.
“Yeah, well they’ve got one of my people too, so I sure as hell need to know what you know.”
“We’ll get him back.”
“Yes, we will,” Gibbs insisted, prepared to dig in his heels on the matter.
***
The dull buzz of voices gradually became clearer and Tony moaned as he opened his eyes. He was surprised to find a man with large glasses practically in his face and jumped back reflexively. A pair of arms tightened around him from behind.
“We’re alright for now, Tony,” John whispered in his ear. “How do you feel?”
“Ah…” Tony made a face as he thought about it, noticing John hadn’t loosened his grip at all. “Tingly, I guess, like a bunch of ants are crawling all over my skin. Who’s this guy?”
“This is Doctor Oliver Huntington,” John said sounding deceptively calm. “He’s been telling me some rather wild tales.”
“Wild but true,” Oliver smiled.
John harrumphed doubtfully. “Anyway, he’s with the people who put something in my ear to make me forget everything.”
“No, no,” Oliver corrected. “Your neurons are intact. The chip was merely designed to suppress the conscious memories so we could get to the buried ones underneath. Apparently it worked.”
“You’re the reason his ear hurt,” Tony accused. “You’re why he passed out from pain.”
“Well, yes, I’m afraid I was,” Oliver admitted sheepishly. “I had the receiver set too high and it caused a feedback loop of high frequency sound waves when we got too close. That must have been excruciating, Doctor Jackson, and I do apologize. I fixed the problem as soon as I realized…”
“Doc!” one of the men warned from the front of the truck. “I think that’s enough.”
Oliver waved away the reprimand. “In my own defense, we weren’t ready for a practical demonstration yet, and certainly not on you! We were months, maybe years away from being ready. Weber jumped the gun. I suppose that’s the trouble with a rogue operation; it’s full of loose cannons. We’re here now to resolve the situation. Cleanup, if you will…”
“That’s it,” the muscle man declared as he advanced on Oliver from the front of the truck. “Let’s go.” He grabbed the smaller man by the arm and pulled him away.
“We’ll talk later,” Oliver called back ardently as he was pushed through the cloth divider and dumped into the passenger seat of the cab.
The bigger man took a seat in front of the computers to keep an eye on the prisoners. Tony stared him down for a minute then turned in John’s arms to finger the padlock on the back door. They definitely weren’t getting out that way. Still John didn’t release him.
“John?” Tony asked uncomfortably after a few more minutes of the guard’s scrutiny.
“Yeah?”
“You gonna hold me like this for the rest of the trip?”
John didn’t answer right away and seemed reluctant to let him go. “Sorry,” he finally
murmured, dropping his arms as Tony did a three-
“I guess this is a little awkward,” Tony commented referring to being connected on the same side. “I was in a hurry at the time.”
“You did this?”
Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna just let ‘em take you.”
“Tony…”
“Hey, I was just doing my job,” Tony cut in. “Gibbs would have done the same.”
Letting his hand drop to rest on Tony’s knee because he really didn’t have any other place to put it, John smiled to himself. “Thanks anyway,” he said shyly.
***
By the time Kate had been loaded onto one of the 53s she was awake and managing one word responses to questions from the medic. But like Gibbs had been on waking, she was completely blind and complained of a massive headache.
“Kate, you’re gonna be okay,” Gibbs assured as he climbed up to the door and leaned in to speak to her. “The effects are only temporary. I’m almost back to normal already.”
“Tony? John?” Kate asked, sounding a little worse for wear.
“Captured.”
Kate flexed her strapped down hands. “Find them?”
“Yeah, we will,” Gibbs replied with conviction. When an airman tried to get him to get into the helicopter he jumped back to the ground and went in search of Colonel O’Neill instead. “I’m staying with you for the duration,” he announced when he found him nearby talking on a radio.
O’Neill studied him for a second then finally nodded his consent. “As long as you remember who’s in charge,” he replied as Major Carter joined them.
“Sir, I’ve got an idea.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“If they implanted a locator chip in Daniel’s ear, we might be able to use it to find him.”
“Locator chip?” Gibbs asked.
“Yeah, we think that’s how they were able to track you,” Carter supplied after another nod from O’Neill.
“So with all the cell phones and radios around how do you propose to track a frequency you can’t even identify?”
“It has to be something unique if they could stay far enough away that you didn’t even know you were being followed,” Carter pointed out. “I can use SATCOM to search for any unusual signals in the area.”
“You can get access to a satellite just like that?”
“We do have a certain amount of guaranteed access,” the Colonel smirked. “When we need it.”
“Right,” Gibbs muttered. “No doubt in conjunction with your deep space radar telemetry research?”
“Exactly.”
“If you can set it up, we have the equipment you’ll need at NCIS headquarters,” Gibbs offered with a grudging admiration of their resources. “Abby can help you.”
“Do it, Carter,” O’Neill ordered. “In the meantime we’ll initiate a search from the air.”
“Yes sir,” Sam replied, climbing aboard the helicopter heading back to DC.
A large black man in civilian clothes and a fedora walked up and dangled a set of keys in front of Gibbs’ face.
“These are DiNozzo’s,” Gibbs confirmed as he took them and studied them closer. “That must be why they took him.”
“Why’s that?” O’Neill asked, confused by the seeming non sequitur.
“Handcuff key,” Gibbs explained as he held it up.
“Sweet,” the colonel replied, catching on. “I think I like this guy.”
***
“Kate?” Abby called out worriedly as she got to her feet.
“I’m fine, Abby,” Kate assured as she led the Air Force officer into the teleconferencing room. “Gibbs was right the effects wore off.”
“Ducky wants to see you right away,” Abby grinned at Kate’s flinch. “And you know if you don’t go to him, he’ll come looking for you.”
Kate nodded her head in surrender and backed towards the door. “I believe you two know each other.”
“Yeah,” Abby agreed, motioning towards the row of keyboards. “I’ve got you set up over here, Major Carter.”
“Sam,” the other woman offered with a smile.
“Okay, Sam. What do you want me to do?”
***
Bored and past caring what the prisoners did as long as they were quiet and weren’t trying to escape, the big guard sat mesmerized by one of the computer displays. John plucked absently at the seam on Tony’s knee until Tony caught the offending fingers in a light grip and held them still. After a particularly long stretch of silence Tony glanced at his watch, not surprised when a fidgety John grabbed his wrist and pulled it over to have a look too.
“Marvin Martian,” Tony explained at the puzzled look on John’s face as he examined
the watch. “I spent big bucks for this thing on E-
“It’s nice.” John finally raised his head and smiled at him.
Tony stared into the earnest blue eyes for a minute before nervously shifting his gaze to the guard who continued to ignore them. “Thanks,” he muttered as John unselfconsciously twined their fingers. “Uh, John…”
“Hmm?”
“Yeah.” Tony wiggled his hand free, wincing at the hurt expression on John’s face. “Uh, guys don’t usually sit around holding hands.”
“Not even when they’ve been kidnapped and beaten and had their memories ripped away from them?”
“You’re a manipulative little shit,” Tony observed with a tight laugh as he tried not to let the pleading look get to him, going so far as to tuck his hand safely into his armpit.
“I’m not little by any stretch of the imagination,” John protested with a snort of amusement.
“No, just manipulative and a shit.”
“I can’t help it. It makes me feel better to hold your hand,” John argued persuasively. “It doesn’t mean you’re gay.”
“I’m not gay,” Tony stated automatically.
“I know. You keep telling me that over and over and…”
“You’re right, I do,” Tony interrupted. He gave in with a sigh, knowing by now how persistent the man could be. “I’ll hold your hand if it makes you feel better.”
John happily accepted and gave the offered hand a squeeze as he sat back to enjoy the victory. “Tony?” he asked curiously, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Why?” came the longsuffering response.
“I don’t know. You’re not gay and you’re not married. Or if you are married you don’t wear a ring...”
Tony huffed another small laugh. “Checking out my ring finger, were you?”
“Have you ever been married?”
“No,” Tony said cautiously.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, never found the right girl I guess.”
“So finding the right one is like being gay? You just know?”
“Beats me,” Tony sighed in mild exasperation. “I still don’t understand this fascination you have with my love life.”
“I told you, your problems are more interesting than my problems,” John insisted.
“Well at the moment your problems are my problems.”
“They’re going to use you against me, you know,” John said seriously, not meeting Tony’s eyes.
“Probably,” Tony agreed. “But it’s not like you can tell them anything. They know you lost your memory.”
“They should know, they took it after all.”
“Right.”
“Right.” John blew out a breath. “So basically, you’re afraid if you commit to one person someone better will come along and you’ll be stuck. You’ll spend your whole life alone if you keep thinking that way.”
Tony groaned and banged the back of his head against the door behind him. “You sound like my mother. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Tell me about your book. You read part of it, right?”
“Well, yes, but you didn’t seem particularly interested in it when I tried to get you to look at it earlier.”
“That’s not true. I would love to hear all about it.”
“Okay,” John shrugged. “Let me think. The first chapter started with an interesting excerpt from the diary of a conquistador named Bernal Diaz del Castillo as he caught sight of the great Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan…” John paused and glanced sideways at Tony’s already dazed expression. “Are you sure you really want to hear this?”
Tony faked a smile. “More than life itself,” he lied as he indulged in one last head bang.
“Anyway, Castillo thought the Aztec marketplace to be greater than any he’d ever seen in Europe and the royal palaces of Montezuma more magnificent than anything Spain had to offer…”
***
“You see anything, T.?” the colonel keyed his mic and asked the big man who had recovered DiNozzo’s keys. Gibbs watched him shake his head then adjusted his own borrowed helmet and leaned a little further out the open door. Catching flashes of road between the dense expanse of trees, Gibbs hadn’t spotted the gray panel truck yet either.
The pilot signaled an incoming message and O’Neill changed frequencies for a minute before poking Gibbs in the side to indicate he should switch, too. “…in the extremely high frequency range right at three hundred gigahertz, in fact anything higher than that would be absorbed by the electromagnetic radiation of the Earth's atmosphere and be…”
“Carter!” O’Neill interrupted. “Is it them or not?”
“I can’t be certain, but the signal is certainly distinctive, and it’s well within the search area given the usual length of time a concussion grenade knocks someone out and assuming travel within the posted speed limit…”
“Carter.”
“Yes sir. The signal is fairly localized and coming from a single source. I’m sending the coordinates now and another team is already in route and will meet you there.”
Gibbs watched O’Neill nod with the confidence of a man who trusted his team. He knew the feeling well and finally allowed himself to breathe.
***
“… and so the god Tezcatlipoca was venerated each year in the form of a young man who personified the Aztec idea of masculine beauty,” John lectured, waving his hands as he spoke, occasionally jarring Tony’s cuffed arm absently. “His skin would have been without blemish, his hair long and straight, his eyes bright and clear…”
“Why?” Tony interrupted. He found himself far more interested in the tales than he would have thought possible in spite of the fact that John had abandoned his hold on him almost the minute he started talking.
“Because he represented the Earth-
“How did they kill him?” the guard asked, causing both men to look up sharply. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, obviously having been listening for a while.
John studied him for a minute and when he decided the large man was sincere he continued, happily including the newcomer in his audience. “He ascended the temple steps alone and at the top he was accosted by four priests who cut his heart from his chest and offered it to the sun. His body was reverently carried away, although the book didn’t say exactly what they did with it, but his head was placed on a wooden rack with the dead warriors and sacrificial victims who had come before him.”
“Wow,” Tony said. “Four wives.”
“That’s all you got out of the story?” John asked in dismay.
“Four, John. Even I might get married if I could still have the option for three more.”
The guard laughed. “Trust me, kid, as someone who’s been married twice, four wives just means three more women to tell you what to do.”
Tony smirked. “You sound like Gibbs.”
“Gibbs has been married twice?” John asked in surprise.
“Gibbs has been married thrice,” Tony reported, holding up three fingers.
“I can’t even imagine being married once,” John muttered in awe.
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one up front was listening, the guard lowered his voice anyway. “You were married, Doctor Jackson.”
“Really?” Tony blurted out.
“You said were?” John queried nervously, licking his lip. “As in I’m not married anymore?”
“Yeah,” the man hesitated before deciding to go on. “In fact it’s like the quintessential tragic love story of all time.”
“Why is it tragic?” Tony questioned, not fighting as John once again sought out his hand.
“Crap,” the guard sighed as he realized the consequences of opening his mouth. “Sorry, Doc, she was taken away and eventually died after you searched for her for years. I never should have mentioned it, it’s just… well you’re a legend in some parts and that’s such a big part of the lore.”
“I don’t want to hear any more,” John stated, dropping his head and leaning into Tony.
“I won’t say anything else. You’ll get your memories back soon enough.”
“How?” Tony asked worriedly.
The guard looked uneasy and shook his head.
“I don’t want to be him,” John uttered without looking up.
“You don’t have any choice, Doctor Jackson. Earth needs you.”
John accepted the proclamation with a resigned and oddly relieved nod.
“Earth needs him?” Tony asked acerbically. “Hey, no pressure there.”
“You really have no idea what you’re dealing with here, do you officer?”
“Agent,” Tony corrected. “Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS.”
The guard paused. “NCIS?”
“Yeah. Naval…”
“I know what it means,” the other man cut him off abruptly. “I was just trying to figure out how NCIS got involved in this.”
“Well it started with Lance Corporal Murdock.”
“The jarheads, of course,” the still nameless guard harrumphed. “I should have known. It doesn’t matter, it’s out of your hands now anyway, Agent DiNozzo.”
“Well now that you know me, how about returning the favor?”
“The less you know,” the man cautioned with a wry smile, “The better off you’ll be in the long run.”
“How touching, you care. And here I thought you were heartless bastard.”
“Tony,” John warned tiredly.
“Look, just because we do what has to be done without the usual political bullshit, that doesn’t automatically make us the bad guys. Ultimately, we all have the same agenda.”
“Which is?” Tony pressed.
“To protect and serve, baby, we just do it on a large scale. Admittedly, we still need the occasional diplomat and nobody says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ better than Doctor Jackson here. We know that, that’s why we have to set things straight. At least for now.”
The truck began to slow and made a right hand turn. Outside, the sound of traffic diminished sharply. After a jerky stop the driver got out, leaving his door open but climbed back in a minute later. He pulled the vehicle into some kind of shelter before getting out again. In the meantime, Oliver slipped through the partition and hovered nervously behind the guard.
“I hope we meet again someday under different circumstances, Doctor Jackson,” Oliver said wistfully. “I’m so sorry we have to do this, but the chip may be very important someday if we can work out the kinks. I know it’s going to seem awful at first but don’t worry, your allies have the technology to fix you back up.”
John looked up uneasily. “Huh?”
“Whoa! Hold on a minute.” Tony threw an arm protectively across John’s chest. “Fix him up from what?”
When the driver rapped on the back door the guard pulled out a strange apparatus that looked like a disembodied metal penis. He pushed a button and the weapon extended, looking even more like an erection as he pointed it at them.
“What is that thing?” Tony asked, caught between fascination and fear.
“I have no idea,” John muttered. “I’m sorry I got you into this, Tony.”
Before Tony could answer they were engulfed in yet another burst of electrical current. The jolt of white hot agony ended quickly as they both passed out.
“Check a pulse,” Oliver demanded worriedly. “The second shot kills.”
“They’re fine. Enough time has passed,” the guard assured nonchalantly as he put the zat away and stepped between the bodies to unlock the back door and push it open.
“Couldn’t you shoot them after they got out of the truck?” the driver bitched vehemently.
“You’re lazy as hell, aren’t you?” the driver shot back, jumping to the ground to help me move the pair out of the back and over against the wall of the abandoned garage.
Oliver put on a pair of latex gloves, retrieved a black bag, and followed. “These conditions are abysmal for this,” he complained.
The guard sighed as he grabbed Doctor Jackson by the shoulders and sat him up. “Make it quick before he wakes up.”
Taking a deep breath, Oliver squatted down and opened his bag. He took out a small, disposable scalpel and opened the package. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled to the unconscious man as he moved his shaky hand closer.
“Wait a minute!” the driver yelled causing Oliver to jump, slicing Doctor Jackson’s cheek near his ear.
“What?!”
The driver licked his lip nervously. “Well you know what happened to Weber’s team.”
“All we’re doing is removing the chip,” Oliver explained irritably, now more nervous than before. “They were using a memory device, something I warned against, I might add.”
“Oh,” the man replied sheepishly, standing well back anyway. “I see. Don’t let me hold you up.”
***
Oliver sighed and pulled himself together before turning back to his unpleasant task. Blood ran freely down the side of Doctor Jackson’s face but he managed to ignore it and concentrate. He tugged the earlobe down and back and cautiously inserted the blade until he met resistance then gave the handle a controlled little jab. When he withdrew the knife another thin stream of red followed.
Reaching back into the bag with his clean hand, Oliver retrieved a pair of alligator forceps and inserted the tip of the delicate instrument into the bloodied canal. Digging around blind for several seconds he finally located the chip and managed to capture it between the tiny pinschers. He pulled it out triumphantly along with a small piece of tympanic membrane.
“There.”
With no bolts of lightning to contend with, the driver moved forward and located
a small lead-
“Let’s get this show on the road,” the guard ordered as he gently positioned Doctor Jackson so the blood wouldn’t run into his face.
He and the driver made quick work of stripping the gray camouflage sheeting from the outside of the van to reveal the white paint underneath with the logo of a local plumbing supply store on both sides and the back. The smaller of the two men was hoisted to the top of the truck and quickly detached each antennae and satellite dish before passing it back down to the guard who put them away.
Oliver took the opportunity to apply a quick pressure bandage to the wound he had inadvertently caused, apologizing profusely to his unresponsive victim the whole time.
Within minutes the changeover was complete. The guard opened the garage door and stood waiting as the driver started the truck and Oliver climbed into the back. As the vehicle backed out Doctor Jackson began to stir. With one final glance, the guard resealed the entrance behind him and climbed into the passenger side of the cab. Within minutes they were back on the freeway, blending in effortlessly with the other traffic.
***
Although the three-
“Take it easy, Murdock.” Weber intervened by pushing the younger man off the porch to land in the weeds. Daniel smirked drunkenly, bobbing his head in amusement as the kid got up and brushed himself off, swearing revenge under his breath.
“Hold still,” the mean spirited, older man who Daniel already privately called ‘the Marquis de Sade’ commanded, pressing a familiar round device to his temple.
After the initial sting, Daniel managed a smug laugh. “Memory device won’t work either,” he taunted.
“Not by itself maybe,” Weber replied, gripping Daniel firmly by the chin. “Murdock, get up here.”
“What’s that?” Daniel asked through the forced pursing of his lips when the Marquis approached holding an odd looking apparatus with a tiny silver computer chip on the end of it.
When he got back on the porch Murdock sauntered around behind the chair then wrapped his arms around Daniel’s head and neck tighter than was strictly necessary. “Punkass motherfucker,” he whispered crossly into Daniel’s ear.
Weber let go and backed away. “I know,” he shrugged at Daniel in response to his ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ stare. “Good help is hard to find.”
“Isn’t it?” Daniel commiserated, taking a personal jab at Weber even as Murdock further tightened his grip.
Weber’s expression darkened. “Don’t get sanctimonious with me, Jackson. This is war. We can’t just sit back and let the Goa’uld destroy the Earth. I’ll do whatever I have to to keep that from happening.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t remember,” Daniel repeated, starting to struggle as Sade moved closer with the ominous looking mechanism.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Weber questioned one last time to dispel his lingering doubt. “We don’t even have the controller for the memory device.”
“The memory device should form a nature filter to help concentrate and focus the buried memories but we don’t need a controller to do that. Without it though we’d get a mishmash of dreams and subconscious desires along with what we’re looking for. It would take a long time to sort through everything.”
“Huntington said it might be dangerous.”
“Huntington is a coward,” Sade spat vindictively. “If we wait on him there’ll be a false god on every corner by the time he’s ready.”
“You’re right, but Jackson here is notoriously stubborn. Are you sure you can get the information out of him after he remembers it?”
Sade smiled a soft, evil little smile. “He’ll talk.”
Weber glanced at the assorted goodies spread out on the table in the early morning light and swallowed convulsively. He nodded and Sade moved forward with the chip.
Daniel screamed as the sharp edged metal strip pierced his eardrum and a small jolt of power activated the chip. The physical pain was bad enough, but the first memory that hit him was the destruction of his beloved Abydos and the wanton slaughter of his adopted people. His face reflected his horror and Murdock dropped his hold and pointed wordlessly at the dark clouds that suddenly boiled in the sky from out of nowhere. The two other men turned to look as thunder unexpectedly rolled behind them.
“Turn it off,” Weber muttered urgently.
“I can’t,” Sade protested as the wind began to pick up.
“Do something!”
Sade hastily plucked the memory device from Daniel’s face and threw it down on the table. He dropped the delivery mechanism and it rolled away, dropping off the edge of the worn wooden planks and into the weeds.
“It’s too late!” Weber shouted in terror. “Run!”
They jumped to the ground and scattered like rats in different directions but in
the flash of an eye a bolt from the sky split three-
***
“Talk to me, Carter,” O’Neill growled impatiently as the gray truck continued to elude them even when they should have been closing in. His frustration was palpable and the strain was beginning to show as he started taking it out on the people around him, something Gibbs could grudgingly relate to.
Discontent with so many things at the moment, Gibbs himself had no such outlet and kept his own mouth clamped into a tight line as he continued to scan the landscape below. Mostly he was worried about DiNozzo and the witness, but he also resented being relegated to bystander status at what he still considered to be his party. It galled him to watch someone sweep in with no regard to how good his team really was. And frankly, he liked to be in the driver’s seat. He needed to be in control, especially when one of his own was missing and in danger.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Carter finally said through the radio after a particularly long
exchange of techno-
“What do you mean gone?” Gibbs blurted out edgily, no longer able to keep quiet.
“It stopped transmitting,” Abby chimed in unhappily. “Sorry Gibbs, we’re not picking up anything in that range anymore.”
“Why would they turn it off?” O’Neill sputtered.
“We have no way to know that, sir. It might have malfunctioned or they might have merely changed frequencies,” Carter extrapolated. “Whatever happened they slowed down and then stopped before the signal failed. I’m sending the last know coordinates now.”
“We’re close,” the pilot confirmed.
O’Neill nodded. “Where’s the ground crew?”
“They’re closing in from the east,” Carter answered without hesitation.
“Have ‘em set up a landing zone for us and we’ll check that position out,” O’Neill ordered tersely.
“Yes sir.”
***
Daniel stirred restlessly, pain pulling him unwillingly towards consciousness. When he woke his memory was merely there, not returning in fits and starts as it had before. He pressed firmly against the sodden bandage over his ear and struggled to sit up but rampant dizziness discouraged a fully upright position. Instead he scooted sideways toward Tony, reaching out to try to find a pulse. His clumsy actions knocked the ring of metal around Tony’s wrist into the knob on the top of his watch setting off the alarm. When he felt a steady thump beneath his fingers, Daniel relaxed and gave in to the overwhelming urge to black out.
***
Ten minutes later they were on the ground and surrounding a dilapidated auto repair shop just outside of Fairfax, Virginia. Gibbs pulled his gun and waited as O’Neill used hand signals to direct his men. Together they followed as the man named Murray led the way to the big sliding door on the front of the building. As a group they froze at the strange sound coming through the metal barrier.
“What the hell?” O’Neill questioned, exchanging a puzzled glance with Murray as the theme to Looney Tunes played over and over.
“That’s DiNozzo’s watch,” Gibbs told them, suppressing a grin.
“Really? I have got to meet this guy,” O’Neill exclaimed as he gave the sign to move out.
Murray pulled the heavy, slightly buckled door back easily with one hand and Gibbs silently gave thanks he was on their side. One by one they slipped into the dim interior of the apparently empty building as other teams entered through the back and the office.
“Over here!” someone shouted from the direction of the happy tune.
They hurried over, separating only slightly as they picked out and went to their respective team members.
“Tony?” Gibbs put away his gun and patted DiNozzo’s face urgently, pleased when dark lashed eyelids finally began to flutter. “Shut that damned thing off,” he ordered.
On reflex Tony reached over and hit the button even before his eyes were fully open. “Gibbs?”
“I’m here. Hang on a minute.” Gibbs reached into his pocket and pulled out the first set of keys he came across which happened to be Tony’s.
“John?” Tony asked as Gibbs hastily unlocked the cuff, handing the key to Murray to set the witness free as well.
Tony winced and rubbed his wrist as he tried to turn toward the activity next to him.
“I don’t know,” Gibbs said, pushing Tony back down gently. “I think he’s alive.”
“I can’t see him.”
“It’s okay, your sight’ll come back in a little while,” Gibbs soothed.
Giving him an odd look, Tony gestured at the enormous form now wedged between him and his friend. “I can see; I just can’t see John.”
“Oh,” Gibbs wiped the overt concern from his face as he helped Tony slowly sit up.
There was a groan from John and then Murray pulled him over his shoulder and made for the door. O’Neill knelt down next to Tony as he handed Gibbs back the keys. “Thanks for looking out for our boy, DiNozzo, we appreciate it,” he said, patting Tony on the shoulder before getting up with a groan of his own and trotting to catch up to his friends. “Damn knees,” he muttered on the way out.
“Who was that?” Tony asked worriedly as he turned to examine the blood on the ground where John had lain. He reached for the discarded dressing but Gibbs pulled his hand back.
“It’s okay,” Gibbs assured. “He works with them.”
“Are you sure?”
Gibbs paused and helped a shaky Tony to his feet then drew his arm across his shoulder to help him to the door. “I hope so,” he admitted. “Because I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it if they’re not who they say they are.”
By the time they got to the door a black Suburban was already speeding away. “Where are we going?” Tony asked as Gibbs prodded him in the other direction.
“Let’s fly home,” Gibbs suggested. “I want Ducky to check you out ASAP.”
Tony watched the SUV disappear onto the highway before allowing himself to be led away.
***
The trip back had been quick but Tony found himself searching for black SUVs on the roads below almost the whole way home instead of enjoying the ride. Gibbs still insisted he should see Ducky right away so they entered the building through the garage and headed straight for the morgue.
“Tony!” Abby launched herself from where she’d been napping on the metal table and attacked the slightly bedraggle man only a few steps inside of the door.
“Hey Abs,” Tony laughed lightly as she hugged the stuffing out of him. “You okay?” he asked over Abby’s head as he caught sight of Kate slipping in behind Gibbs.
“Yeah,” Kate smiled back at him, glad to see him in one piece. “I heard you guys snuck in the back way. How are you?”
“I’m good,” Tony assured, seeming a little off in spite of his dazzling smile.
“Where’s John?” Abby asked, pushing back slightly as she looked up at Tony, keeping her hands around his waist.
“I don’t know. Those bastards cut the chip out of him and left him on the floor to bleed,” Tony told her with an edge of anger to his voice.
“He’s fine,” Gibbs assured both of them. “The Air Force has him now. He’ll be taken care of.”
Abby sought out Tony’s eyes for verification but he only shrugged. “I didn’t get to see him before they took him away.”
“So the case is over,” Gibbs changed the subject fluently. “They cleaned us out.”
“Just like that?” Tony frowned.
“Just like it.”
“Yep,” Abby confirmed miserably. “And we don’t have a single, solitary shred of tangible evidence that any of it ever really happened,” she sighed dramatically.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ducky objected as he came out of his office, tapping a finger to his temple then nodding towards Abby.
“Abby?” Gibbs asked sternly when she turned her head to glare at the coroner, unintentionally revealing her bruise as she finally let go of Tony.
“It was an accident,” Abby fibbed as she crossed her fingers behind her back. “Mostly,” she confessed guiltily. “I had intent.”
Gibbs glowered at her as Ducky collected Tony and pulled him towards his office. “Come, Anthony. Off with your shirt,” he commanded.
“Why?” Tony whined, dragging his feet.
“Because I’m going to examine you,” Ducky exclaimed with a longsuffering sigh as he put a hand to his back to propel him along faster.
“Now be a big boy, Tony,” Kate called after them.
“Yeah, take your medicine,” Gibbs added with a smirk.
Ducky stopped to glance back with a twinkle in his eye as he pushed Tony through the door ahead of him. “Don’t laugh, Jethro, you’re next.”
***
A soft moan of pain escaped his lips as he opened his eyes. The only light came from what looked like late afternoon sun that found its way around the edges of the window covering. Although he felt the tug of an IV in his arm and he was obviously drugged to the gills Daniel instinctively knew he wasn’t in a hospital. “Tony?” he asked the silhouette in the chair next to the bed.
“Jack,” a well-
“Jack?”
“Yeah.” There was a long silence followed by a resigned sigh. “I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill and you are…”
“Jack.”
“Daniel?” The figure reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.
“Yes. Where’s Tony?”
“Uh…” Jack paused and pointed to his chest questioningly. “You know me?”
“Of course I know you.” Daniel winced. His ear hurt like hell and talking didn’t seem to help. “When they took out the chip I got my memory back.”
“The locator chip?”
“What? No,” Daniel argued in spite of the pain, “It was a memory suppressing chip, if they could track me with it that was probably just an added benefit.”
“Oh,” Jack said as he leaned forward and patted Daniel on the arm. “Well good. I’m glad we don’t have to go through that whole lost memory thing again.”
“We?”
“Yeah, we,” Jack insisted, moving his hand up to rest briefly on Daniel’s head before moving it back to his arm.
Daniel allowed Jack’s tactile affirmation that he really was alive and well then turned his hand to give Jack’s a squeeze in return. “Tony?” he finally inquired again.
Jack shrugged. “Gibbs came after him.”
“Were they okay?” Daniel asked anxiously. “Kate?”
“Oh you know, the usual; a concussion grenade here, a zatting there. Everybody made it out okay. You got the worst of it. On top of the bathroom surgery it looks like they worked you over pretty good.”
“I’m fine,” Daniel muttered offhandedly, playing with the edge of the blanket. “Can I see Tony?”
“Why?”
“I just want to say… thanks, I guess.”
“Later,” Jack promised. “Right now you need to rest.”
“Rest isn’t going to heal my eardrum,” Daniel retorted obstinately.
“No, but Fraiser and Jacob are on the way. They should be here soon.”
“Wow. That was fast. Jacob came all the way to Earth to fix my ear?”
“Well you’ve been out for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Well, uh, since yesterday actually. The doc has pretty much kept you under. He said the damage is so severe that if the blade had gone even an eighth of an inch further…” Jack trailed off at the panicked look sent his way. “Oh, hey, don’t worry about it. This is like a hangnail to the Tok’ra, ya know.”
“I’m not worried,” Daniel lied, reaching tentatively to check out his bandaged ear. “Where are we anyway?”
“Hotel in DC,” Jack grunted unhappily. “We couldn’t fly you home with a damaged eardrum and we couldn’t put you in a hospital without making up some elaborate cover story. There’s a Navy doctor from Bethesda with a top secret security clearance looking after you. When Fraiser gets here we’ll give him the boot.”
“We’re a grateful lot, aren’t we,” Daniel said cynically. “Yeah, thanks for all the help. Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry? Don’t call me, I’ll call you. And whatever you do, don’t let the screen door hit your ass on the way out.”
Jack let Daniel get his frustration out, knowing good and well he wasn’t talking about the doctor. “Fine, after Jacob gets through with you I’ll take you to see your buddy,” he appeased. “But you’re not going anywhere until then.”
Settling down, Daniel released one last agitated breath. “Thanks Jack.”
Before Jack could answer the door opened and Sam and Teal’c cautiously peeked in. “We heard voices,” Sam explained as they filed into the room.
“Hi guys,” Daniel greeted with a doped up smile as they gathered around the bed.
***
As he drove home after the first full day back at the office since the strange case had started and subsequently come to an abrupt and thoroughly unsatisfying halt, Tony had to remind himself that it had been less than a week since they’d flown out to West Virginia. It felt a lot longer than that. It felt like a lifetime since he’d met the enigmatic man who had come to mean so much to him, more than he was willing to admit even to himself.
Keeping it low key Tony had spent the day exploring every official channel, and with Abby’s help some rather questionable sources as well, to find out what had happened to the amnesic witness. What they managed to uncover was disturbing but not particularly helpful. The high tech prowl through the extraordinary life of Doctor Daniel Jackson turned up a few sad surprises; most notably the loss of his parents at a young age and then the collapse of a promising career much later due to some rather extreme ideas that fell outside the accepted beliefs of the archeological community.
Nowhere, however, had they found evidence of a deceased wife, although the same couldn’t be said for Jackson himself. He had been officially declared dead by the Air Force not just once, but on two separate occasions, miraculously resurrected each time without explanation.
More recently the man had simply fallen off the face of the planet for almost an
entire year. Without benefit of a death certificate this time the whereabouts of
Jackson nevertheless remained a mystery and Uncle Sam had stepped in to pay off the
broken lease on a high dollar loft apartment. All very hush-
Vanishing so easily and so completely time after time, Tony wondered if the good
doctor wasn’t some kind of astral specter after all. And now John was gone with
him… along with the other bodies and every scrap of physical evidence that proved
something fearsome and horrible had happened on that fateful morning out by the river.
In fact all they had left to show for the entire adventure was a few sore muscles
and some bruises, one of which, Abby’s pseudo self-
Tony thought about stopping for a beer but he felt too tired. Not in body but in spirit. He sighed and turned right instead of left and headed for home. Parking in his usual spot he got out of the car and slammed the door before noticing a person standing on the walk in front of his door. As he approached the gray haired man turned around and extended his right hand with a smile, moving just enough that Tony could see there was someone else sitting on the step.
“We weren’t properly introduced before. I’m Jack. You’re DiNozzo, right?”
“It’s Tony,” the second man corrected as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and got to his feet a little anxiously.
Tony accepted the hand shake but kept his eyes on the other stranger. “John?” he asked in disbelief.
“Uh, actually my name’s Daniel. Daniel Jackson.” He flashed a nervous smile as
if he was unsure of his welcome then wrapped his arms around his torso in a self-
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, giving nothing away, especially not that he’d spent all day desperately trying to find him.
Daniel’s face fell at the cool reception but some of the memorable stubbornness came back to set of his jaw. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Say thank you, Daniel, and let’s get out of the nice man’s hair,” Jack offered sarcastically, recognizing the tension even if he didn’t understand it.
“Wait in the car, Jack.” Daniel requested bluntly, not breaking eye contact with Tony for a second.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Jack retorted. “You’ll be lucky to go potty by yourself for the next six months after this latest stunt.”
“Stunt?” Daniel yelped as he spun on the older man and pinned him with an outraged glare. “Stunt?” he repeated as they squared off. “I didn’t ask to be abducted you know.”
“Poor choice of words,” Jack soothed, not backing down an inch. “Just tell him what you came to say and let’s go.”
“It’s private.”
“Private? Oh for cryin’ out loud…”
“Yes, Jack, I’d like to have a private conversation with my friend. Wait in the car. Please,” Daniel added, not being particularly polite.
Jack answered by sizing up DiNozzo again in an obvious threat assessment.
“You can trust Tony to protect me if someone jumps out with a gun to cart me off again,” Daniel assured as he batted his eyelashes sardonically.
“Like that’s never happened before,” Jack shot back in an annoyed tone.
The two men stared at each other, neither blinking as they held an entire, unspoken conversation in the lift of an eyebrow and the quirk of a lip. As Tony watched the back and forth with interest he knew the second Jack acquiesced.
“It was nice to meet you,” Jack said with a gracious bow of his head as he turned and walked away. “I’ll just be in the car minding my own damned business.”
“Thank you,” Daniel called after him. As his aggravation with Jack waned he grew more reserved.
“Are you okay?” Tony asked when Jack climbed into a rental car and slammed the door. Proud of himself for not leaning in for a hug, he was humbled by how much he wanted one. He settled for resting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder even though he could feel Jack’s eyes on him the entire time.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Daniel nodded and shifted his gaze to the ground shyly.
Tony took a minute to check him over and he really did look good. Really, really good if a little unfamiliar. “So you wanna come in for a minute?”
“Yes,” Daniel responded decisively.
Tony climbed the steps and unlocked the door, acutely aware of the man who followed him in. “John…” he started probing for answers as soon as the door was shut behind them.
“I can’t tell you anything specific,” Daniel warned without correcting the name. They stood in the entry and looked at each other without speaking.
After a couple minutes Tony reached up to arrange the neatly combed bangs into something more recognizable. Even without mousse the hair obeyed. “I hate you,” he grumbled in mock indignation. Daniel blushed under the attention but didn’t move away.
“Stardust?” Tony asked softly.
“Not exactly,” Daniel offered without flinching as Tony pulled off his glasses and continued to appraise him, “But about as close as I can explain. And hey, the good news is… I’m not crazy.”
“And the bad news?”
“I’m not crazy.”
Tony let the meaning sink in for a minute before responding. “How not crazy?” he asked carefully.
Daniel snorted. “That depends on who you ask I suppose.”
“So?” Tony pointed toward the ceiling. “Omit the pertinent details.”
“I’ve already told you too much,” Daniel shook his head, growing solemn. “That’s not why I came.”
“Your bruise is gone,” Tony observed, fascinated. “There’s not even a trace of it left. And what about your ear? I know they hurt you but you don’t seem to be in any pain now.”
“I’m fine,” Daniel insisted, pursing his lips irritably when a horn sounded outside. “Look Tony, I’ve been thinking about your problem…”
“Why does that worry me so much more than finding out you really do believe in little green men?”
“They’re gray,” Daniel deadpanned. “Now shut up and listen before Jack loses his cool and drags me out of here. I think the reason you haven’t found the right girl is because you should be looking for Mr. Right instead.”
“I… what?” Tony stammered. “I’m not…”
“Gay,” Daniel finished for him. “Yeah, I know you keep telling me that. I’ve come to the conclusion that you protest too much.”
“Is that your lifestyle?” Tony asked accusingly.
“If you mean do I frequent gay bars and have anonymous sex with men, no I don’t. But I’d like to think if love came along I wouldn’t toss it away simply because it came in the wrong kind of package.”
Tony backed up until he hit the door. “Why did you come here?”
“Oh relax,” Daniel snapped at him. “I’m not going to declare undying love for you or anything. I will admit I was attracted to you almost from the first moment I saw you, but you already know that. Gibbs knew it too; he used it, that’s why he pushed us together.”
Biting back the denial, Tony realized he was still holding the other man’s glasses and stopped to ponder why he’d taken them in the first place. He did it to get a better look at the warm blue eyes behind them; John’s eyes. Daniel’s.
“Remembering things out of context was terribly frightening but I can assure you things aren’t quite as grave as I made them out to be. Don’t worry about that, okay? It’s just… life is short, Tony, you don’t have any guarantees. You should try to figure out what you really want.”
“I want John,” Tony blurted out in a moment of unbelievably raw honesty. “At least I thought I did. But you’re not him, are you?”
“He’s in here,” Daniel soothed as he began to move closer.
“Have you always been so smart?”
“No. It was… enlightening to look at life without any preconceived ideas or biases. You should try it.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on the chip,” Tony joked, plastering his backside to the door as Daniel continued his slow, predatory advance until they were face to face, only inches from touching.
“I learned a lot from you, Tony. That’s why I’m here. To say thank you.” When
the horn honked again Daniel rolled his eyes and broke off the slow-
“He’s persistent,” Tony sighed, sorry to see the spell broken.
Daniel smirked and looked down. “Yeah, we’ve been an old married couple for a long time. I just don’t think Jack has realized it yet.”
“Maybe you should give him a hint.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, something subtle,” Tony suggested with a sudden leer. “When he asked
what we talked about, and he will, trust me, tell him you came to kiss me good-
“I wouldn’t want to lie,” Daniel muttered, glancing up seductively through his lashes.
Tony swallowed hard as he made up his mind. “So don’t.”
***
Three weeks later
Tony brooded in the back seat with nothing to do but sit and think. He knew he’d been subdued lately. After all, he’d had a lot of things to mull over. Daniel had nailed him, figuratively anyway, calling a spade a spade, seeing things Tony himself had turned a blind eye to. He had been making himself crazy, chasing one thing and secretly longing for something else. Denying it could ever exist. He’d been wasting time hastily peeling one orange after another when what he really wanted was to take a great big bite out of an apple.
The current shortcut was paved for a change and Gibbs sped the car along smoothly, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Kate had picked at Tony relentlessly for awhile but had eventually given up and gone silent when he refused to bite, answering her taunts with grunts and single syllables. Sitting behind Gibbs, he was able to covertly study her profile as she was bathed in the dashboard light. He liked Kate, but he wasn’t especially attracted to her. And he was okay with that. Gibbs was another matter altogether.
While he knew all about Gibbs’ golden rule number twelve, never date a coworker, Tony also knew Gibbs was not above breaking any rule when it suited him. He wasn’t about to proposition his boss, but it wouldn’t hurt to dangle a little bait. Get it out there, so to speak. One way or the other no matter how things worked out the game had changed and Tony thought it only fair he should at least let his team know about it. Subtly. Sure, he could do subtle, too. He undid his seat belt and slid forward.
“The pressure was different,” Tony observed, resting his elbows on the back of the front seat between Kate and Gibbs as he stared straight ahead. “The lips were firmer but still soft. Actually I was surprised how soft.”
Gibbs kept his eyes on the road, but Kate turned to look at him suspiciously.
“The tongue was the same; hot and wet but a little rougher, more demanding maybe, but that might have just been the situation. The only real difference was I came away with slight case of whisker burn. It was all good though. Very good.”
“Tony, what are you talking about?” Kate asked, bewildered by his passionate monologue.
“You wanted to know what it was like to tongue a guy,” Tony explained innocently. He couldn’t help but needle a little so he added, “I thought I’d share since you’re not likely to find out first hand.”
Kate made a disgusted noise and turned away to look out the window. Seemingly unaffected by the discussion, Gibbs merely kept driving. With a sigh of something, relief or possibly dejection, Tony stayed in the middle of the seat but leaned back and closed his eyes. Kate thought he was only ribbing her and God only knew what was going through Gibbs’ mind about it, if anything. It could have gone better, but it also could have gone a lot worse.
When he looked up some time later he found Gibbs intermittently watching him in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t see Gibbs’ mouth, but his eyes were smiling.
“What?” he asked with a guarded shrug.
“Voss didn’t have a five o’clock shadow,” Gibbs replied conversationally, still grinning.
Tony returned the smile in full wattage as Kate responded to that little tidbit and whirled around in her seat to gape at him.
“No,” Tony admitted evenly. “He didn’t.”
The End
