Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Ducky, Abby or the Director. Tony is on my Christmas wish list though, so you never know... But seriously, if they were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. I'd be on a Caribbean island somewhere.

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for NCIS, actually it's been a while since I had an idea that seemed worth putting down on paper, so I hope everyone likes this. No spoilers for anything, but it's set mid-season 3, as I'm in England, and so I haven't seen past the end of that season. Also, I don't know the laws on circuses in the US, as it's illegal to have circus animals these days in Britain, but it would just be more fun if American circuses are allowed them. Remember, no animals were harmed in the writing of this story.

As always, all comments and reviews are welcome.

The life of an NCIS agent was, by its very nature, varied and filled with interesting and unusual sights. Gibbs was used to seeing gory and horrific sights, to the point that it took a particularly ghastly crime scene to shock him now. Decapitations, dismemberment, disembowelled corpses: none of these bothered him any longer. Just another day. But the sight that greeted him now made Gibbs stop and stare. Abby had always been eccentric, even weird on occasion, but this….

The automatic doors slid open and he stepped warily into the lab. Abby, pigtails flying, zoomed past him, giggling madly. With a shake of his head, Gibbs leant against the computer and sighed. "OK Abby, I'll bite. Why are you riding a unicycle?"

The forensics specialist cycled around the lab once more before the stopped in front of him. Keeping the unicycle in one place required a sense of balance that Gibbs hadn't known Abby possessed, but she managed it with little apparent effort. A wide smiled lit her green eyes and she laughed again. "Gibbs, it's the best news ever! The circus is back in town!"

"The circus?"

"Uh huh. Matlock's Magical Circus! Tony said he'd take me this weekend," Abby added, starting on another lap of the lab. "I just love the circus. Always wanted to join when I was a kid. There's something so romantic about the idea of running away to join the circus, don't you think?"

Gibbs closed his eyes for a second, hoping that when he opened them life would have returned to relative normality. When he did open his eyes, Abby was still perched on the unicycle and he glanced heavenward. Why were all of his team mad? "Abs, do you have the results for me or not?"

As she sped past the desk, Abby managed to pick up the test results and handed them to Gibbs with a grin. "There you go bossman. As I said, the GSR confirms that Petty Officer Rolland shot himself. Suicide. And another case is closed." She frowned as Gibbs failed to share her enthusiasm. "What's up?"

"I don't like suicides," he replied shortly. Abby circled around him and folded her arms, frowning at him through narrowed eyes. "What?"

"It's more than that."

Only Abby, he thought with an internal grin, only Abby got away with speaking to him like that. And every time he gave in. "I don't like circuses."

"Why not? They're so much fun!" Gibbs just looked at her and she laughed, before executing a very neat spin on her unicycle as if to demonstrate her point. "There are acrobats, and clowns, and jugglers, and elephants, and tightrope walkers, and horses, and dogs that do funky tricks…." Abby's continuing list of the wonders of the circus followed him out of the lab as he went to check on the rest of his team.

As he suspected, Tony and McGee showed little sign of doing any work, as they were crowded around Ziva's desk, apparently cheering her on in a computer game. Walking as silently as he could, Gibbs made his way around until he was standing in front of them and glared as hard as he could until they slowly fell silent. "Sorry boss," Tony and McGee murmured in unison, making their way back to their own desks. Ziva looked unrepentant. Gibbs sighed.

"You'll be pleased to know that at least Abby has done some work today, and she says that GSR confirms it was suicide. You got anything to add to that DiNozzo?"

"Um yeah," Tony hesitated, knowing how Gibbs hated suicides. They made him grumpier than usual. And that, Tony considered silently, was always something to be wary of. "Rolland's doc has confirmed he had a history of depression, although he was being treated for it. Said Rolland hadn't refilled his last prescription though, so he'd been off his meds for about a week."

Gibbs merely grunted a reply, confirming Tony's suspicions. The boss was in a vile mood.

Before anyone else could say anything, Director Jen Shepherd leaned over the railings, looking into the bullpen. "Jethro. Petty Officer Rolland's death was self-inflicted then?"

"Yeah."

"Good." The Director smiled brightly, and Gibbs fought a groan. That was not a good smile. "Because I've got a new case for you."

For once, Tony actually felt sorry for McGee. OK, not sorry enough to change places with him, or to do anything about his situation, but he did feel sorry for the guy. Gibbs took another corner so fast that Tony could feel two of the truck's wheels lift off the ground, and an oncoming car swerved to avoid them. McGee, as the Probie, had been told to go in the back, where there was no lovely seatbelts, or cushions, or anything to protect him from Gibbs' lunatic driving. Whatever the Director had told Gibbs about their new case, he hadn't shared it with his team, only growled in a rather frightening manner. That had led to him driving the NCIS Major Incident Truck as though he was in the Indy 500.

Another bend taken at breakneck speed, and Gibbs suddenly braked sharply. Tony was saved from hitting his head on the dashboard by his seatbelt, but the loud bump coming from the back suggested that McGee had not been so lucky. Opening the back door, Tony winced in sympathy: McGee looked even more shaken than usual, pale and nauseous.

"So why are we here?"

"Good question Probie. Why are any of us here? What is the purpose of this life?" Tony grinned. "Ah, the unanswerable mystery of life." His sixth sense working overtime, Tony ducked just in time to miss Gibbs' headslap. "Sorry boss."

"DiNozzo, I am not in the mood for this today."

Gibbs stalked off, leaving Tony to wonder when Gibbs was ever in the mood for anything these days. Except shooting people. Shaking his head, he turned back to McGee. "I guess you meant why are we at the circus?" McGee looked disbelieving and set off after Gibbs. Tony looked hurt. "What, is everyone in a bad mood today? Is it national 'let's be grumpy' day, and I missed the memo?"

"America has a national 'let's be grumpy' day?" Ziva asked innocently, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. Tony groaned and walked after Gibbs. It looked like being a long day.

The three younger agents followed Gibbs across the field towards a crowd of small RVs. The corpse was in the one furthest away from the Big Top, set slightly away from the others. Gibbs barked out orders, making Tony's heart sink. If Gibbs was this bad already, who knew what sort of mood he'd be in by the end of the day. "McGee, get photos of the exterior. I want to know if anyone was hanging around this caravan. DiNozzo, get inside and get some photos. Ziva, find out whose caravan it is." She hesitated and he glared at her. "The LEOs who called us in are over there. Go ask them."

Tony stepped cautiously inside, and wrinkled his nose as the stench hit him. Surprisingly, it wasn't the smell of rotting flesh, but seemed a little more, well, pungent. A photo on the wall above the bed gave Tony a clue: three elephants, all in a row, all balancing on their hind legs. He'd lay good money on the fact that this would turn out to the elephant trainer's home. The body was sprawled across the small dining table, still clothed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, albeit heavily splattered with blood. Snapping a few shots of the body, Tony moved around to get a different angle.

"Whoa." The back of the corpse's head had been hit so hard, and so often, that it had actually caved in, and Tony was able to see grey brain matter plastered across one wall. "Well, I'm going to go out on a limb and say this wasn't a suicide boss." Gibbs, standing just inside the door, shot him an evil look. "I'm just saying…."

"Well don't. And don't touch the body until Ducky arrives either. Just shoot and sketch, got it?"

"Yes boss."

Ziva was waiting outside, tapping impatiently on a notepad with her pen. At Gibbs' interrogatory eyebrow she said, "This caravan belongs to the Amazing Antonio and his Electrifying Elephants. Obviously, the elephants don't live here, just Antonio. He's in the big tent thing, practising. He told the local cops that he'd never seen the dead guy before."

"He's gone back to practising his routine?" Gibbs asked incredulously. "So he's really cut up about this."

Ducky and Jimmy Palmer hurried up then, with Ducky complained loudly about Palmer's map reading skills. "Honestly Mr Palmer, cartography is a noble art, and one that you certainly need to practise. What would you do if you were lost in the wilds somewhere? I remember once, when I was hiking in the Lake District, I was saved only by my ability to correctly navigate by the stars. Why, once…."

"Ducky." Gibbs' quiet voice cut through the ME's story.

"Ah, yes, well, after you Mr Palmer." Ducky followed him into the caravan, and shooed Tony out of the way. "You can come back later Anthony. I have a new acquaintance to make."

Tony stepped outside into the sunshine. "So, you know the name of that guy boss?"

"Marine Sergeant Thomas Byrne." Gibbs squinted around into the sun, and spotted the ringmaster, in his traditional costume complete with a top hat, heading towards them, accompanied by two clowns. Biting back a groan – he didn't have the patience to deal with this today. "DiNozzo, Ziva, get over there and start the interviews. I'll see what Ducky's got for us." Tony turned to go, only to feel Gibbs whack the back of his head harder than normal.

"What was that for? I didn't do anything boss!"

"That's for ducking your earlier slap."