Hello, reader! Ok, so this is my first fanfiction. I already have about six and a half chapters typed up, so I will be updating at least once a week. I have no clue as to how long it is going to be, but I think it might be kinda lengthy. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it, because I've had a fun time writing it. ~UpAllNightWriting
Jimmy Palmer woke up and looked at his clock. "7:30!" he said, "Oh no, this is not good. Dr. Mallard is going to kill me if I'm late again! Crap!" he worried aloud. He hopped into the shower and got out in record time. As he dried himself off, Jimmy smiled. He got his clothes out and laid them on the bed where his bride was sound asleep. His bride. Those words meant the world to Jimmy. As soon as he finished putting his tie on, something he had recently learned to do alone, he walked over to the beautiful Breena. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "I'll be back at six. If we catch a case, I'll call you." He imagined Breena heard him, but didn't register what he said because she was just starting to wake up. When Jimmy finished his meager breakfast of eggs and toast, he looked at the time. 7:49. He ran out to his car and got to the Navy Yard in 8 or 9 minuets. When he arrived, security was on a high alert. Palmer was used to that changing from time to time. After they cleared him, he headed straight for autopsy. As he burst through the doors, Dr. Mallard's expression reminded him of five years ago, when he heard of Jenny's death. "Who?" Jimmy asked, fear evident in his voice. He was scared out of his mind at the moment. He knew that his team's job was dangerous, and that anyone might be killed at anytime, but he still could, and would, never get used to the feeling. "No one... yet. Someone has planned an attack on the Navy Yard." Ducky sat down and sighed. "We have less than 76 hours to live."
Gibbs woke up to a bad dream. He never had bad dreams. Bad dreams were outlawed in the world of Gibbs. Yet, he had a bad dream. He got up from the frame of his latest woodworking project, a playhouse for his goddaughter, Amira, and looked around. He flashed back to seven years ago, when Ziva killed Ari. He looked at the spot where Ari died. Where Kate was avenged. When he saw instead, was something. A picture. With two numbers next to it, each one as frightening as the other. Gibbs never wanted to see that image again. But, he still knew exactly what it meant. His stomach was churning. No, that was his gut. Gibbs grabbed the picture and made for the stairs. He grabbed his gun and badge, ran out the door, and slammed his car door shut. He drove particularly fast, and probably caused a few wrecks on the freeway, but that didn't matter. He ran in past security, like usual, and made for Director Vance's office, who was having a video conference with the Secretary of the Navy. "Hello, sir. I'm very sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I believe there is a threat.""What kind of threat?" SecNav implored. "The kind we don't approve of.. Concerning many people." Gibbs responded."God, Gibbs, just spit it out." SecNav said, getting a little agitated. Vance spoke for the first time. "Gibbs, what the heck is going on?" Gibbs got a look on his face. The same one he got when Kate was killed. The same one he got when Tony told him Jenny was dead. "The threat is to us. The Navy." he sighed. "Someone has planned an attack on the Navy Yard. We have 76 hours."
Tony woke up and threw up. He rushed to the bathroom and stayed there until the sudden nausea had passed. Then he walked, slowly, back to his bed. He reached over to his chest next to his bed and accidentally dropped a few pieces of paper on the floor. Tony rolled over, so he could examine what had fallen down. It was the tickets he'd gotten earlier that week to a Wizards game on Saturday, four days from now. He tried to go back to bed, but he kept throwing up. Tony was sure he was sick. Soon after the fifth time he puked, he called McGee, "Hey, Probie! Want to go to the Wizards game on Saturday?" he asked, jokingly. Tony had already found some buddies to go with. "Tony, that's like four days from now. But... I do enjoy some basketball every now and then. Yeah, I'll go with you" he said, pausing a few times to cough. "I was kidding, McBasketball." Tony replied. "Oh, so you don't have any tickets?" Tim asked, probably trying to be smart. "No, I have better, cooler people to go with. Listen, that's not why I called. Tell the boss that I'm not going to be in until noon or so. I really don't feel good. Then he puked, right there on the phone. McGee told him that he wasn't feeling so great either. He said he woke up sweating and he had a fever. Tim's voice faded away, until Tony heard McGee hacking and he dropped the phone. Tony, however, clutched his phone in his hand and started yelling. "Tim? Tim, are you ok?" He was having a panic attack. Tim picked up the phone and started talking again."Tony, have you gone to the bathroom yet today?" "Yeah, as a matter of fact, my whole place smells like saltwater. It's pretty gr- Oh no. Tim, you gotta get down here. This is not good. I-I really don't feel so good." Tony was getting dizzy, and his apartment was spinning like the time he went drove down to Cincinnati while he was in collage. Cincinnati's Kings Island was home to The Beast, the longest wooden roller coaster n the world. It twisted, turned, and rattled its way through a forest on the out skirts of the small city. He thought he would never do that again, not on the world's longest wooden roller coaster or right now. But somehow he was. "Tony! Hang on, I'll be right there." Tim could hear Tony vomiting like crazy. He heard his partner's breath sharpen. He was in pain, Tim could tell. And, even though Tim wasn't exactly in his right mind, he believed his suspicions had been confirmed. They had both been poisoned.
A/N: OOOH! Did I just go there? Heck yeah, man! So, what do you think so far? Reviews are greatly appreciated, so please please please let my know if you have any comments, questions, concerns, ect.
