A/N: This is my entry in the NFA Bone Chilling Challenge. We're supposed to write the scariest story we could. I'm a big wimp when it comes to ghost stories and the like; so this may not be very scary, but I went for a kind of classic ghost story (with a little bit of NCIS case thrown in). It's short. Only three chapters and an epilogue.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the characters and I'm not making money off this story.


Dancing in the Dark
by Enthusiastic Fish

"Invitation to Dance-
It's a Dance. And sometimes they turn the lights off in this ballroom.
But we'll dance anyway, you and I. Even in the Dark. Especially in the Dark.
May I have the pleasure?"
Stephen King

Chapter 1

The body lay in the cemetery, surrounded by silent graves. A theatrical swirl of leaves danced in the breeze that blew between the headstones. Two statues of angels were the only witnesses of what had led to this scene.

And they said nothing.

The cemetery had a fence around it. It was locked every night. The caretaker hadn't seen anything when he had locked up for the night, but when the sun went down, he was very quick about his business. If there were questions, requests, he never filled them after the sun went down.

Never.

If asked why, he laughed and said that he clocked out at sunset and they didn't pay him enough to come back after hours.

That's what he said.

He never admitted to anything more.

When he got to the cemetery that morning to open it up, he did his usual walk through, making sure that no pranksters had scaled the fences and got up to mischief.

No one went into this cemetery in the dark.

Ever.

Which was why the body was such a shock. When he saw it, he didn't even approach to see if the man was dead or drunk or asleep or something else. He stopped. He looked at it. He looked around.

He hurried away to call the police.

Another dance of leaves swirled around the dead man.

Yes, he was dead. He had been dead for hours.

Since the night had brought him into the cemetery.

Since he had been called.

Since he had been asked to dance.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim stared at the angels, wondering why it was that he had decided to watch that Dr. Who episode last night. What was it about October that made him want to watch the scary shows he stayed away from the rest of the year? Why did people deliberately seek to scare themselves?

Someone grabbed his shoulders, and Tim jumped with an undignified sound.

Tony laughed.

"You watched Blink, didn't you, Probie," he said.

Tim grumbled.

"Don't worry. I won't let the angels get you."

"Ha, ha," Tim said.

"Hey, the Weeping Angels are freaky," Tony said. "I don't blame you for worrying, but it's just a show."

"Very funny, DiNozzo," Tim said. "I'm well aware that it's just a show."

"Good. Would you two get to work?" Gibbs suggested...well, suggest was a kind way of putting it. There was a definite threat behind the suggestion.

"Yes, Boss."

"Yes, Boss."

Tim knelt beside the dead man and got his fingerprints, just to verify what they'd already been told.

"Just like they said, Boss. Petty Officer Lorin Schmidt." He started looking through the information he could get handily. "No black marks in his public record."

Gibbs nodded and looked at Ducky.

"I can see no cause of death at first glance, Jethro," Ducky said, "but, of course, I won't know for sure until we get him home."

"Nothing at all?"

"No. There are no obvious wounds. None of the typical signs of poison. But there are deaths that can leave few outward signs." He pulled out the liver probe. "Now, that's odd."

"What?"

"Well...liver temperature indicates that death occurred approximately eleven hours ago...at midnight, but there is no sign of rigor mortis at all. Overnight temperatures were quite mild, nothing that should delay rigor mortis... Perhaps he was placed here with some other location for his death, perhaps he was frozen? Certainly, there's no sign of decomposition coincident with the easing of rigor. I will have to see when we get him home."

"Why would he be here?" Tony asked, looking around. "A cemetery isn't exactly a happening place."

"You'd better hope it's not," Jimmy said with a grin.

Tony laughed.

"Mr. Palmer, if you please?" Ducky said, mildly.

Jimmy cleared his throat and hurried to help while Tony got back to taking samples of the ground directly by the body.

Tim was walking a circle around the crime scene, seeing if there was anything to indicate how the man had got there. He found a footprint. Just one. Nothing to say that it belonged to their victim, but still, he marked it and took a picture. Then, he started walking back toward where Jimmy and Ducky were loading the dead man on a gurney.

He stopped by the angels and looked at them again. Then, he started to walk on...but he thought he saw something and turned back. He looked more closely.

Who had carved this statue? It was so detailed, so beautiful. The eyes almost seemed alive. He expected them to be blue. Yes, they would be blue. A deep, deep blue, like the ocean.

Tim stared.

He could almost imagine the hair blowing in the wind. It would be black, like ink. Yes, the hair would be black.

The face was...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was a heavy thump. Tony turned around and saw Tim flat on his back, the camera a few inches away from his outstretched hand. His eyes were closed and he had only barely not hit a headstone.

"McGee!" he said and hurried over, Gibbs, Ducky and Jimmy right behind him.

He knelt down and tapped Tim's face. Tim awakened with a start and looked around in confusion.

"Tony? What...happened?"

"I don't know, Tim. You were standing there...and then, you were down for the count. Did the Weeping Angels get you after all?"

Tim laughed, but he still looked confused. Ducky knelt on the other side.

"Are you feeling dizzy, Timothy?"

"No. I feel fine." He started to sit up, but Ducky stopped him.

"Wait a moment," Ducky said. "Are you at all lightheaded or nauseous?"

"No. Really, Ducky, if it weren't for the fact that I'm on the ground, I'd be fine."

"All right, then, sit up...slowly."

Tim did.

"What do you remember?" Gibbs asked.

Tim looked around.

"There's a footprint over there," he said, pointing. "Then...I was coming back, seeing if I could find anymore. I stopped and... and..."

"And what?"

Tim looked around again.

"There isn't anyone else here, is there?"

"Like who?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know...I just..." Tim looked around yet again. "I feel like I...I saw...someone, but... I don't know. It's... nothing went fuzzy. I just don't have anything in my memory for... How long was I out?"

"A few seconds, maybe," Tony said.

Ducky took Tony's flashlight and shone it in Tim's eyes.

"Your pupils are contracting normally, Timothy, but perhaps you should take a break."

"I really feel fine," Tim protested.

"Let's get you on your feet, then."

Tim nodded and stood up, showing no discomfort. No wobbling, nothing.

"You're all right?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, I feel fine."

He looked around again. Tony was about to step away, but then, Tim's gaze lingered on one of the statues and suddenly, his eyes rolled up in his head and he started to fall. He would have, but Tony managed to catch him that time.

"Oh, dear," Ducky said.

Before he could direct Tony to ease Tim back to the ground, Tim's eyes opened again and he stood up.

"Uh...why are you standing so close to me, Tony?" he asked.

"You just passed out again, McGee," Tony said.

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"All right, McGee, you're done for today."

"Boss, I'm all right!"

Ducky took Tim's pulse.

"No other reaction. No racing pulse. No flushed face. Nothing. Timothy, if I hadn't seen you fall, I wouldn't have thought you had."

"See? I'm fine!"

"No, McGee," Gibbs said. "Tony and I will finish up here. You wait in the truck. When we get back, you're off for the rest of the day."

"But–"

"No! End of discussion," Gibbs said sternly.

Tim sighed. "All right."

He walked over, picked up his camera and headed for the truck.

"Duck?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky shook his head. "I can't give you an explanation, Jethro. He does appear fine...except that he collapsed twice."

Gibbs looked at Tony.

"I'll watch him, Boss."

Gibbs nodded and they got back to work.

Tony headed over to talk to the caretaker.

"You're the Navy cop?" he asked.

"Agent DiNozzo. Matthew Chocton?"

"Yeah."

"So, I know you already went through this with the local police, but just tell me what happened."

"I came at about eight this morning to open up the cemetery like I do every morning. I did a walkthrough, although it's not necessary. No one comes in here after dark."

"Not even kids playing pranks?"

"Not here."

"Why not? The fence isn't that high."

"Doesn't matter. There could be no fence and no one would come."

"Why not?"

Matthew shrugged uncomfortably. "It's a cemetery."

Tony smiled. "That's not enough, especially not this time of year."

Matthew swallowed. "People just don't like the cemetery. We don't go in during the night. No one does. Don't know why that guy was in here. Never seen him before. He's not from around here."

"Is the cemetery supposed to be haunted?"

Another nervous swallow.

"No one's ever said they saw ghosts in here...but no one comes in."

Tony was surprised by that. Usually, when there was this kind of reaction, there was something.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Well, only a few years. The old caretaker, he died of a heart attack. They found him in the cemetery."

"Ah."

"No, it was a heart attack. He was in his eighties. He'd been working here for a long time, ever since his wife died. He'd already had one heart attack earlier in the year. No one thinks anything else happened to him. We stayed away from the cemetery at night long before he died."

"Why?" Tony asked. "If it's not supposed to be haunted, if no one thinks something strange happened to the old caretaker, why the fear?"

"Didn't say I was scared."

"You didn't have to."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"It's...it's just the rule. From the time I was a kid, my parents told me that no one goes into the cemetery after dark. If something bad happened in there, I don't know about it, but when I got hired to be the caretaker, I told them that I wasn't going in after hours. Not for anything. You won't find anyone on these streets after dark. No one will have seen when that guy came in here because no one looks."

Tony looked around. There were no homes nearby, but there were a few people walking by on the street.

"There are people now."

"It's not dark."

"You're absolutely right," Tony said. "Did you notice anyone else in the cemetery when you found the body?"

"No."

"And you didn't recognize him?"

"No."

"All right, thanks for your time, Mr. Chocton. If you think of anything, give us a call."

Matthew nodded and Tony walked over to join Gibbs.

"Didn't see anything this morning, said that no one will come near the cemetery after dark. It's the rule. Claims that no one thinks it's haunted, but..."

"But no one is willing to take the risk?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," Tony said with a bit of a smile. "But he doesn't know the guy, says he's never seen him before."

"Okay. Take the truck back. I'll ask some questions in town."

"What about McGee?"

"Make sure he gets checked out and then talk to Petty Officer Schmidt's CO and his unit."

"On it, Boss."

"Make sure McGee goes home."

Tony nodded and headed for the truck. Tim was leaning against it, fiddling with his phone.

"Ready to go, Probie?"

"Yeah. I'm bored stiff. Anything interesting?"

"People in this town stay away from the cemetery after dark. Caretaker won't go in after the sun goes down."

"In the winter that would be like six o'clock."

"Yeah. It's the rule."

"Huh."

"You feeling all right?"

"I feel fine. I could have been helping you guys instead of twiddling my thumbs here."

"You get some free time. Enjoy it."

"During the work day... So what now?"

"We go back and I take you to get checked out."

"Oh, come on, Tony!" Tim protested. "I feel fine! I feel normal!"

"Then, it shouldn't take long. Passing out twice in a few minutes isn't normal, no matter how you feel."

Tim sighed and got in the truck.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs found a local café that seemed to be a common hangout for the town. He started asking around, showing a picture of Petty Officer Schmidt. Surely someone had seen him.

He struck out until a waitress came on shift.

"Yeah, I saw him. Couple of days ago."

"Really? What was he doing?"

"He asked for directions to the cemetery, but it was in the evening and I told him that the cemetery would be closed probably before he could get there."

"Was he okay with that?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. He...he said he was doing some genealogy and his family was from this area generations back. He wanted to find a grave there."

"He tell you which one?"

"No. I didn't ask. I just told him that he wouldn't be getting into the cemetery after dark. It closes then."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It's the rule."

Just like Tony had said.

"You asking about the cemetery?"

Gibbs turned around. There was an old woman sitting at a table.

"Yeah."

She smiled.

"Come on over and I'll tell you what I know."

Gibbs nodded and sat down.

"I'm Shirley."

"Jethro."

"Good strong name, there."

"Thanks. The cemetery?"

"I stay away from it after dark, just like everyone...now."

"Now?"

"But when I was child..."

"What?"

"We used to dare each other to walk by it. Not go in. That was a definite no-no, but to walk by."

"And?"

"And I did it once."

"What happened?"

"Nothing...on the surface."

"And beneath the surface?"

Shirley leaned forward.

"I heard music."

"What kind of music?"

"None I'd ever heard before and never wanted to hear again. There were voices singing and there were some kind of instruments playing but I didn't know what they were. I thought I saw something moving in the trees, but I didn't stick around to see more. I ran home, quick as I could. Never went back again."

"Not after dark?"

"Exactly. I don't know what's in there when the sun sets, but it's nothing that we should be seeing. So I stay away. I mind my business. That's what everyone in town does. If that man didn't do that...well, then, I'm not surprised he died."

"Seems like a harsh punishment."

"Did I say it was a punishment?"

"What is it, then?"

"Meddling in things you have no business meddling in. If you're not supposed to be there, you shouldn't be surprised when something that shouldn't happen happens."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Well, Mr. Palmer, I'm well and truly stumped. If Abigail doesn't come up with something from his bodily fluids, I can honestly say that I have no idea how this man died, nor why he is dead. Nor why there is still no sign of rigor mortis in his body. Nothing I'm seeing makes sense."

"No sign of freezing?" Jimmy asked.

"None. There is nothing to indicate that the liver temperature is incorrect, but neither is there anything to explain why rigor has not begun. This body is odd."

"I'll take the samples up to Abby."

"Do, and ask her to prioritize them. I want to know what killed this young man. He's not telling me anything."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"We'll let you know the results of the blood tests, Agent McGee, but I don't see anything wrong with you."

"That's what I've been saying!" Tim said, looking at Tony.

"Even so, two episodes of fainting..."

"I didn't faint," Tim grumbled.

Tony chuckled.

"Even so, you shouldn't set it aside so easily. That means something, even if we don't know what at this point. Pay careful attention to any physical changes and come back in. If we find something in your blood tests, we'll let you know."

"Thanks."

Tim jumped off the table and he and Tony left the hospital.

"See?" Tim said. "I'm fine!"

"Unexplained doesn't necessarily mean fine, and you're not coming back to work today."

"No way, Tony!"

"Gibbs' orders. You're not worth disobeying them."

Tim sighed again.

"All right. I'll go home. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. We'll try not to solve the case without you."

Tim stuck his tongue out at Tony for a second and then rolled his eyes.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim went to bed early that night and fell asleep quickly.

But he tossed and turned throughout the night.

Music haunted his dreams.

Calling him.

Inviting him to dance.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Matthew walked through the cemetery, getting ready to close the gates. Besides the police tape, nothing had changed. He walked by the crime scene and stopped and glanced at the angel statue.

He stared.

He could see her eyes as if they were real. A deep blue. Like the ocean.

He could almost see her hair blowing in the wind. Black like ink.

Her face...