AN: Yeah it's another one of those Baltimore stories…sue me.

Disclaimer: I own approximately…well if you count that one time…nope still nothing.

Chapter 1

It was 3:00 PM in Baltimore, a November chill and a slight wind was a constant reminder of just how close winter was. This did not seem to affect the young man sitting on the park bench, wearing only a thin jacket to protect him from the cold. Anyone who watched long enough would notice that every five minutes or so he'd take a silver flask from inside the jacket and drink. If one had any doubts as to what was in the flask the man's bloodshot eyes might serve as a rather sufficient clue. But there is nobody to see him drink, or to wonder what could possibly be in that silver flask because aside from a single raven perched in a nearby tree the run down old park is completely empty. The man tilts his head back to watch the raven, the back of the bench rubbing rather uncomfortably against his neck. Then, it's a though the bird notices his gaze for it ruffles it's feathers, lets out a shrieking caw, and flies from the tree and far out of view. With a small sigh the man puts his sunglasses on, although the sun is thoroughly hidden behind the clouds, and takes another drink from the flask. Soon thereafter, the man has fallen asleep on the old park bench with not another soul, not even the raven, in sight.

The wispy clouds that had covered the sun earlier in the day were now so dark that they could almost blend in with the night sky. It had begun to rain some three hours ago and it didn't seem as though it would stop any time soon, if anything the rain fell harder, the thunder was nearly constant, and an impermeable fog reduced visibility to almost nothing.

Local news channels recommended that everyone stay off the roads unless it was a complete emergency. That didn't deter one Leroy Jethro Gibbs from speeding down the road at nearly double the speed limit for it was late, nearly midnight, and he had a crime scene to process with only two fairly useless probies to assist him. Fortunately, with a little coffee this would be just like any other day.

In the backseat of the car, the two probies, whose names Gibbs has so far neglected to learn, looked like they were both about to be sick. Gibbs was wondering which one would demand he pull over so they could throw up. It was only a matter of time. In the front seat was Medical Examiner Donald 'Ducky' Mallard, who was all to accustomed to Gibbs' less than pleasant driving style, in fact, the elderly ME seemed to be sleeping.

Going at nearly double the speed limit Gibbs had managed to make the drive from D.C to Baltimore in about forty five minutes, when it usually took an hour. He would've liked to make the drive faster but given the weather and the carsick probies taking fifteen minutes off of the usual time would have to do. The car comes to a screeching stop outside the building that clearly houses their crime scene. The police presence here was full force; there's a slew of cop cars up and down the road and uniformed police officers are spilling out of the apartment building. Too bad they were about to lose their crime scene.

"Duck, time to go" Gibbs says, shaking the medical examiner's shoulder lightly.

The elderly man sits up suddenly, completely awake though he had been sleeping for the whole drive to Baltimore. "Right you are Jethro, I assume we'll have to deal with all of this" Ducky says, gesturing to the cop cars parked up and down the road.

Ducky gets only a grunt from Gibbs in return. He hasn't had his coffee yet and was in no mood to have to argue for his crime scene. Hopefully he'd end up talking to some newbie who he could just intimidate into turning over the crime scene. No deals, no shared jurisdiction. That was usually the best way to do it because very few people were actually able to work well with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Gibbs has to hide his smile as he sees the probies stumbling out of the backseat, both looking more than a little green,. "Grab your gear" he says, and without bothering to wait for them goes to find whoever's in charge of the crime scene. From what he had been told on the phone a young Petty Officer had been murdered in her home and her daughter was missing. Gibbs has a sinking feeling that this would not be an easy case.

As it turns out, Gibbs didn't even have to look for the man in charge, the second he steps onto the crime scene a burly cop with a walrus mustache stops him. Oh, things were about to get interesting.

Gibbs shoves his badge at the walrus, "Gibbs, NCIS. This is our crime scene now." He says trying not to give the cop any time to argue with him. It didn't work.

"Not sure if you noticed Leroy, but you're in Baltimore, not D.C. This is my jurisdiction."

It was the name. Always the name. Dumbass cop.

"I'm not sure if you noticed but the dead woman was a Petty Officer. In the Navy. That makes it my jurisdiction."

"We've also got a missing person. Is that your jurisdiction too?"

"It is now."

Seeming to realize that he wasn't going to win this argument the walrus says "We can share jurisdiction. My people will take the body-"

Gibbs cuts him off quickly, "We've got an ME, we've got a lab that will process the evidence a hell of a lot faster than yours, we don't need to share jurisdiction. This is my crime scene now." This is what he got for making fun of his name. No compromises, no deals, and ultimately no sympathy for the burly walrus-mustached cop.

"I'm not going to let you push me off this case completely!"

"I'll keep you informed on our progress. That's the best deal you're going to get."

"Fine, but I want to know about everything you get on this case."

"You'll get what I tell you" Gibbs says and pushes past the cop and into the apartment that was their crime scene.

The probies had long since caught up with Gibbs, and had actually gotten to see the last part of the argument with the walrus. Now they stood behind Gibbs, waiting for instructions.

Without sparing them a glance Gibbs says "What, is this your first day at a crime scene. Bag and tag, photograph. I would hope you know the drill!"

And with that, the probies are off, tripping over themselves in a futile attempt to impress Gibbs. Ducky was thankfully much more professional than the probies and had already started to get to work on the body.

"We got a cause of death Duck?"

"Actually Jethro, our dead petty officer isn't dead" Ducky says, loud enough for all the cops still in the room to hear.

Everyone goes silent.

"What?" Gibbs snaps.

And then the 'dead' petty officer makes a sound halfway between choking and coughing and tries to sit up.

Well damn.

The young man on the park bench had long since woken up, thankfully so because it had started to rain, or pour was more accurate. His watch had been missing for at least a week now and his phone had long since been smashed so he hasn't the slightest idea what time it is. What he does know is that he had been kicked out of the bar he had taken to after waking from his nap on the park bench. It was a good thing there was many others in town. He was still able to think clearly so obviously he hasn't yet had enough to drink.

Walking in a straight line without stumbling was proving to be quite difficult but it was manageable, especially since he didn't want to seem like some drunk stumbling into the bar-even if that description was fairly accurate. As it turns out, run down old bars were quite popular at this time of night, if only he knew what this time was, and the place was fairly crowded. He take a seat on an old barstool that looks like it's seen better days, and before he even waves over the bartender a vaguely familiar face is right in front of him.

"Anthony DiNozzo, it's been a while since we've seen you around here."

"I've had better things to do." Tony says, duly noting the slight slur of his words and the faint Long Island accent that occasionally made a reappearance when he was either drunk or tired. In this case it was both,

"Oh, like getting your partner killed Detective?"

Tony doesn't even try to protest, arguing with this guy would be useless. Punching him would be a much better way to shut him up. And so he does, right across the face, probably breaking his nose. The guy had a pretty hard face and now Tony's hand was throbbing but it was totally worth it. Or at least, it was before the guy swung back. Okay, so punching him wasn't the best idea, now both men had broken noses and faces covered in blood. Before it could turn into a full on bar fight-which Tony was kind of hoping it would-two guys grab Tony by the arms and promptly throw him out of the bar, cursing and yelling as they go.

Sitting outside of the bar on the curb Tony dabs at his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to wipe up some off the blood but only making it hurt a hell of a lot more. "Son of a bitch" he mutters under his breath.

It was a good thing he didn't have work in the morning or else he'd have a hard time explaining the broken nose and massive hangover that was sure to come. He actually didn't have work for the next week. Which was probably for the best because he'd been drinking more and more since he'd been placed on administrative leave.

It was bad enough that his partner was killed. That guy had been like a brother to him. He was the only person in the entire Baltimore PD that didn't actually hate Tony. And now people were accusing Tony of getting him killed. Hence, the administrative leave. It was a good thing that his two years in Baltimore was almost up because he needed to get the hell out of there.

It was a miracle Gibbs hadn't killed anyone yet. How did a whole entire police department not notice the fact that their 'body' was still breathing. How was it possible that they were all that fucking stupid? Nobody had even bothered to check if their so called 'corpse' had a pulse. Well, she did when they got there but not anymore. They had called the paramedics and Ducky had done what he could but the woman died shortly after Ducky discovered that she was alive. There would be hell to pay for this.

Right now, the majority of the Baltimore PD was paying for the massive mistake.

"How the hell did you idiots not notice she wasn't dead? Did any of you even check for a pulse or did you just see blood and assume she was gone?" The walrus mustache cop was currently bitching out the rest of the police force while Gibbs and the NCIS crew finished processing their crime scene. This time, they were sure the body was actually a body. Funny how people forgot to do that sometimes.

"I'm going to kill them." Gibbs mutters under his breath, the only person close enough to hear being Ducky.

The usually kind ME, couldn't help but agree with Gibbs. "I'll help you hide the bodies" he mutters angrily.

About two minutes later the Baltimore PD looked suitably chagrined and the walrus mustache walks over Gibbs, presumably to try and explain. Of course, Gibbs was in no mood for substandard explanations and so the cop was quickly cut off. "I don't want to hear excuses I want to know what happened from the time you got here until we arrived."

"We got the call at 10:30, the petty officer was the one calling, said that someone was in her house and she was hiding in the closet. We were the first on scene. We get to the door and right before we go in we hear it lock from the inside. Officers break down the door, the only person in the house is the petty officer. No killer, her daughter missing. No windows were open, the front door is the only way in or out. We have no idea how the killer got out."

Gibbs almost shot the man right there. "Did it ever occur to you that the killer could still be in the house!"

The apartment is thoroughly searched but there is nothing to be found, it is as though the killer simply disappeared.

"Is there any way the killer could've gone out through the windows?" Gibbs asks, the window being the only option left.

"We're on the second floor, sure they could survive the drop but how would they close the window behind them?"

"Just check the damn windows!" Gibbs says, looking for any possibilities at this point. Of course, he didn't really trust his probies to check to windows by themselves so he go to work checking them himself. Halfway through the house and Gibbs was pretty sure it was a dead end, that is until a set of bloody footprints lead right to the god damned window then simply disappeared. He opens the window ever so slightly, and as soon as he lets go it drops straight back down. Well, all least they knew how the killer got out. That still left a dead petty officer and a missing kid.

Gibbs looks out the window for just a moment, the bloody footprints stop entirely once out of the house so there's no trail there, but what he does see is a man sitting on the curb just down the road from the apartment. The only person on the street. That was something worth checking out. He tells his probies to keep collecting evidence then leaves to go talk to their potential witness.

Tony DiNozzo didn't hear anyone coming until they were only a few feet from him, on instinct he reaches for where his gun would usually be, only to remember that he turned it in when he was placed on leave. Of course, the other person didn't know that he didn't actually have a weapon and before he knew it he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

"NCIS, put your hands were I can see them."

"Take it easy Navy cop, I don't have a gun." Tony says, or rather slurs.

"Then why are you reaching for one?" the navy cop asks, his finger moving towards the trigger of his gun.

"Habit I suppose. I should introduce myself, Detective Anthony DiNozzo. Baltimore PD."

"You got a badge to back that up?"

Fuck. When he turned his gun in the badge went with it. Tony just shakes his head ever so slightly. By now the blood from his nose was making a thin trail down his face although that was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"Then I guess you're coming with me. Let's go."

With a small groan Tony stands up slowly, his knee making a very painful crack as he did. He wrecked it in college but it still gave him all sorts of troubles.

"You know my name I don't know yours" Tony says, not liking walking away with someone who hadn't even flashed a badge yet.

The navy cop slowly holsters his gun when it's pretty clear Tony wasn't going to do anything and takes out his badge and creds to shove in Tony's face.

"Gibbs, NCIS. Now let's go."

Even under these circumstances, Tony couldn't help but smile a little. The navy cop didn't look like much of a Leroy to him.