Title: Out of the Dark
Pairing: McGee/Ziva
Rating: FR13
Genre: Het
Cat: Action/Adventure (sort of), Drama, Romance
Spoilers: Season 7 in general, Truth or Consequences in particular
Warnings: None.
Summary: A routine assignment turns anything but for McGee and Ziva.
Author's Note: Written for vegas for the Help Haiti auction on NFA. Her prompt was long and involved, so I can't really give too many details without giving the story away, so I'll just say it involves McGiva and leave it at that.
"Sailor reported missing in West Virginia," Gibbs reported as he breezed into the squad room. "Gear up."
While Tony and Ziva grabbed their backpacks, McGee remained sitting at his desk. "Boss?" he asked.
Gibbs looked over at him, his eyebrows raised. "What? Something wrong, McGee?"
"Uh, no, it's just that," McGee frowned, "we don't usually go out in the field for missing persons cases."
Ziva paused at her desk, thinking about his logic. "He is right, Gibbs. What is so different about this case?"
"What's so important," Gibbs said, sounding irritated, "is this." He turned on the TV and flipped from one station to the next, all of them focusing on the same news story -- suspected sex trafficking ring leader reported escaped from prison, viewers cautioned to be on the lookout.
"You think this guy kidnapped a sailor?" Tony asked, sounding skeptical.
"Keep watching," Gibbs said, nodding at the TV.
They focused their attention on the news report again, pictures flicking across the screen showing that the men the escaped prisoner targeted matched the appearance of their missing sailor. Once Gibbs saw they made the connection, he turned the TV off and said, "Good enough for me."
"Us, too, Boss," Tony said, grabbing his gun from his desk drawer. McGee and Ziva followed suit, and they made their way to the elevator, their game faces on.
"There's no sign of a struggle, Boss," Tony called, standing from where he had been squatting at the sailor's house, his eyes roving over the pristine living room carpet. Gibbs walked over then and Tony faced him. "In fact, I'd say someone was doing a little bit of cleaning up recently, maybe in order to hide something."
"Maybe Petty Officer Going was just tidy," Ziva commented from the kitchen, pausing in sifting through a cupboard.
Tony scoffed. "No real man is this clean," he commented, causing McGee to poke his head out from a closet in a hallway.
"I'm this clean, Tony," he said, his tone irritated.
Tony smirked. "Like I said, McMaid."
McGee narrowed his eyebrows at Tony. "I happen to like not living in a pigsty, Tony."
"Hey, he's not asking you to clean his house, McGee," Gibbs broke into the fight. "Can we get back to the case now?"
"Of course, Boss," Tony said, but mimicked a dusting motion at McGee when Gibbs turned away. McGee gave him a facetious smile in return, which grew more genuine at the next thing that happened, which was Gibbs slapping Tony's head. Tony rubbed the offended spot and mumbled, "Sorry, Boss."
The next few minutes passed uneventfully, and Gibbs finally said, "We're not going to find anything here."
"That mean we can go home?" Tony asked, already slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Yeah, sure," Gibbs said distractedly, flipping through some mail, then turning back to Tony. "You come back to Headquarters with me, DiNozzo. Make some calls."
Tony made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan. "Sounds awesome," he said, his teeth clenched.
McGee and Ziva began packing up their stuff then, and Gibbs turned to them. "Hey," he said, and they paused and looked up at him. "I didn't say you two."
"Then what --" McGee started, and Gibbs interrupted him.
"You two stay here," he said.
"What are we supposed to do here?" Ziva asked, her brow furrowed. "We have not found any evidence suggesting --"
"We don't have any leads," Gibbs interrupted again. "Maybe Borin forgot something. Either way, there's a chance he could come back, and if he's not expecting anyone to be here . . ." He shrugged.
"Right, Boss," McGee said, nodding, while Tony scoffed in the background.
"So now McGee gets to take down the bad guy while I run background checks?" he asked rhetorically.
Gibbs gave him a look. "Ya done, DiNozzo?"
Tony looked over at him and realized he was on the verge of receiving a head slap, so nodded. "Ah, yeah, Boss. Sorry." He looked back over at McGee and Ziva. "Well, have fun waiting for our bad guy. I'm sure you two will find plenty to do to keep yourselves occupied." He winked at them, causing McGee to roll his eyes.
"Grow up, Tony," he muttered, and Ziva crossed her arms over her chest.
"Then he wouldn't be Tony," she said, and McGee had to nod his head in agreement.
"Come on, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, breaking up the argument. Tony gave McGee and Ziva an exaggerated wave goodbye, causing Gibbs to head slap him again before dragging him out the door to the sounds of Ziva laughing behind them.
When the door closed, McGee turned to Ziva. "I guess we hurry up and wait now, huh?"
Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "That does not make sense, McGee."
He let out a sigh. This was going to be a long night.
…
"Ziva, what are you doing now?" McGee sighed a few hours later, walking into the kitchen, where Ziva was pulling things from the refrigerator and cupboard and depositing them on the countertop. She looked up over the refrigerator door.
"I'm hungry, McGee. The Petty Officer does not appear to be coming back anytime soon . . ." McGee rolled his eyes and rushed into the kitchen, putting the food back from where it had come. "Hey!" Ziva commented, snatching a jar of mayonnaise from his hands.
"Ziva, you're contaminating the crime scene," he hissed, pushing past her to return some lunchmeat to the refrigerator.
Ziva's head suddenly perked up, unnoticed by McGee. "Shh," she said, having heard something.
McGee rolled his eyes, his head still in the fridge. "I mean, don't you feel like you're invading this guy's life just a little?" he continued.
"Shut up, McGee!" Ziva hissed back at him, and he registered then that she wasn't just shushing him for arguing with her. He stood up slowly, allowing the refrigerator door to softly shut behind him. Ziva cocked her head to get a better listen, which was when they heard a loud crash outside. They automatically grabbed for their guns, withdrawing them and making their way toward the noise. As they reached the back door of the house, McGee nodded at Ziva and then yanked the door open . . . only to be greeted with a wooden plank to the face.
"McGee!" Ziva exclaimed softly, dropping to check on him. When she did, however, she found herself in the same position as him, lying unconscious on the floor, but she had been knocked out with a chloroform-soaked rag rather than a board.
A tall, muscular man with dark facial stubble appeared from around the corner of the house, taking Ziva and slinging her over his shoulder. He ran out to non-descript SUV and quickly deposited her in the back, then rushed back to grab McGee, taking him by the ankles and dragging him out to the vehicle. After ensuring they weren't about to wake up anytime soon, he slammed the hatch, rushed around to the driver's side and slipped inside, starting up the vehicle and peeling away from the house.
