This is my twenty-first NCIS Mystery and the first of my Third Season. The list of stories got so extensive I moved it, with summaries, to my profile.
The usual legal disclaimers apply.
Please Review. I live for reviews.
Rating: T or NCis-17. Death, Intrigue and Noir Mystery. You don't need to have seen the classic Vincent Price horror film 'House on Haunted Hill', but it helps.
The first season commenced with Superheroines, the second with Winged Women. Now for something completely different:
Movie Night
By: JMK758
Chapter One
Costumes
Jennifer Shepherd approaches Gibbs' desk but never has the chance to say a word as Abby Sciuto bursts into the bullpen of her favorite agents, waving a paper about in a barrage of ecstasy.
"I won! I won! I just got the e-mail and I won!" She displays the paper to each of them so quickly no one can read it. "Isn't it fantastic? The odds were seven hundred seventeen thousand, eight hundred forty two to one and I won! I won, you hear me? I won!"
"Congratulations, Abby." DiNozzo has no idea what else to say to the woman as she bounds from desk to desk.
She pauses for an instant at his desk, "Yeah, isn't it great?", then she's gone toward Michelle's desk. "I didn't believe it would happen but it did!"
The Agents exchange mystified glances. Abby's so out of control it's hard to slow her whirlwind trek about the bullpen. Gibbs, suspecting the woman has already hung out for far too long with her new roommate Samantha Sky, does try.
"Abby, whatever you won had better have made you independently wealthy so you don't need to work here anymore."
She spares him a glance. "Gibbs, you could not possibly spoil my mood this morning–"
"I'd never dream of it."
"because I won!"
x
"Abby," Jennifer steps in front of the woman, knowing she risks being run over but she does manage to halt her, "what did you win?"
She briefly displays a printout, an e-mail header and representation of a wordy coupon. The only words Shepherd can glimpse in the flash of black and white are 'Pre-Grand Opening'. "I won -" she clutches the paper to her chest and gives the announcement all the momentous import she can, "a night at the Pre-Grand Opening -" she relishes every syllable, "- of Haunted Hill!"
Far from the trumpet blast the announcement deserves, she's met with silence.
x
"Come on, guys! Haunted Hill!"
"Yeah, you said that," DiNozzo reminds her.
"Come on, Tony. Gibbs I can understand, but you? 'House on Haunted Hill'. Not the abortion from '99, the original one."
Tony's eyes take on that distant 'cue card reading' look he sometimes gets when recalling movie data. "William Castle, 1959, written by Robb White. Vincent Price, Carolyn Craig, Carol Ohmart, filmed at-"
"Yes! These two fans a few years back, they won a gazillion dollars in the lottery - they bought the land on the top of Big Ridge-"
"Oh yeah!" He's caught her enthusiasm. "I remember reading about that."
"Not you too, DiNozzo." Gibbs gives up hope.
"There was some kind of story about turning it into a theme park," he relates for them, "but they couldn't get zoning.
"Well they got it," Abby announces gleefully, "and they recreated the house, down to the last bolt - including the vat of acid in the basement! They'd wanted to open on Halloween Night, but since I wasn't there they ran into all sorts of problems they couldn't solve in time. They finally did, they're set now for Mardi Gras but they're doing a few tests to work out the kinks. They had a lottery - and I scored a winning ticket!"
"No kidding!" Now her excitement rubs off, but then Tony reconsiders. "But there'd be something wrong about seeing it in color."
"It's not in color, that's the beauty of it. Everything from the carpet to the walls to the paintings is brown, black and grey tones - glorious black-and-white. And an animatronic Vincent Price does the welcome in the living room. I get to bring two guests with me this Saturday night. The deal is everyone arrives in costume and persona. You are your character for the night."
"Great! What time do we leave?" He pretends he doesn't see Ziva's glare. He can think of many things more pleasant than the on-going fallout from the Millennium Debacle, and spending a Saturday night partying with the 'Mysterious of the Dark' ranks very high on that list.
"We have weekend 1600 to zero, DiNozzo," Gibbs reminds him.
"Oh yeah." But then he brightens. "Say boss, if I can talk Patterson-"
"Sorry, Tony," Abby counters, though she'd enjoy seeing him try to talk Gibbs into this scheme, "you'll have to make a reservation." She turns to Jenny and Michelle, waves the paper enticingly, "Girls Night Out!"
x
Jenny experiences the unpleasant sensation of being trapped between a rock and a Goth place. "Abby, I don't know-"
"Come on, it'll be great! And it's just one night out. NCIS will be here when you get back."
Jennifer turns to seek Gibbs' help, but he can't argue with that assertion.
"I'm surprised you didn't invite Sammy," she says in one last attempt to find a graceful way to back out. The would-be Apprentice Medical Examiner has just moved in with Abby, a combination Jennifer would pay good money to see for even one evening.
"I mentioned it when I was still hoping to win. She's performing Saturday night with the Washington Renaissance. Besides, she's as likely to go to a haunted house as Gibbs is to perform at Chippendales'."
She's not facing him but can enjoy his expression out of the corner of her eye. She also doesn't miss the speculative gleams in Michelle and Ziva's eyes, or that there is no speculation at all in Jennifer's. She's probably seen a better show.
"Come on," she almost pleads. "If you don't I'd have to spend the night with Tony!"
"A fate worse than death," McGee quips. "She might come back a ghost."
Jenny can't help but smile at the pained look on DiNozzo's face, and decides she does deserve a night off. The Millennium Debacle has been draining, and the interviews this week by reporters from 'We' magazine and their 'Women of NCIS' feature had been an unwelcome distraction to NCIS' routine. Each and every woman in the building had been interviewed; Jenny had smiled through some twenty pictures and suspects the others have endured similar disruptions to their routines.
"All right. Thank you, Abby."
They turn to Michelle.
x
The younger woman is even less skilled at hiding her ambivalence. "Well, I - that is - I was really looking forward to spending a quiet weekend with Jimmy."
"Come on! You'll have every weekend with him for the rest of your life. How many Girls' Night Outs - Girls' Nights Out - do you get these days? And in a Haunted House! It'll be so cool - you can't miss it!"
"Hey, wait a minute!" DiNozzo protests. "We have weekend 1600-2400!" He turns to Gibbs, sensing a female conspiracy. "How come we're doing graveyard and she's going to a haunted house? I asked for the time off first, if I could get Patterson to cover for me. Before Abby asked."
"Simple, DiNozzo: Abby arranged to get her off before she came up." He hadn't known then what he'd agreed to and, seeing Michelle's expression, he's not sure he's done his junior agent a favor.
x
Michelle grins, however. Surprised as she is by the behind-her-back fenagling - she'll get Abby back later - the expedition does sound cool, and after all his tormenting over the past months, DiNozzo's expression is just icing on the cake. She comes out from behind her desk to join the manipulatrix. "Okay, count me in."
"Great! We all have to arrive in costume."
"I'm sure that'll be no problem for you, Abby," Jenny predicts.
"You know it." They turn to Michelle.
"Costume?" She makes it sound like Abby's suggested something biologically unnatural.
"Yes. Remember? Everyone comes in costume, you are your persona."
"From the movie?"
"Not necessarily, just a costume, but it should personify the real you."
"Or the fake you," Tony chimes in, still annoyed but consoled by enjoying her discomfort.
"Whichever," Abby insists, "it'll be a chance to break out and have some fun."
"You can wear one of your robes," McGee says, thinking of the many colorful, ornate robes the woman keeps as part of her Wiccan magical attire.
She slowly turns on him, back stiff, and her tone drops the room's temperature ten degrees. "Those are for serious business."
"Sorry."
"Then what would you wear?" Abby asks, breaking the mood.
Michelle considers, unable to evade. "Costume?"
"Yes."
"I have to?"
"Yes."
She considers, very reluctantly. "Well, I do kind of have something... I guess I can wear it."
They turn to Shepherd.
x
Jenny looks from one woman to the other and feels trapped. The last thing she'd have given any thought to for this weekend would be a costume party. Now, sandwiched between the 'Mysterious of the Dark' and an avowed Witch, she feels quite out of her depth. "I don't have a costume."
"Don't worry," Abby assures her. "I have the perfect one for you."
"I'm scared of your costumes."
She doesn't like Abby's smile.
xxx
After an impromptu round-trip home for the enthusiastic scientist; Abby, Michelle and Cynthia Sumner stand at the Director's locked office door, calling through it. "Come on, Jenny," Abby urges, "let's see how it looks."
"How did I ever let you talk me into this?" the woman's voice filters through the door.
"Come on, just give it a chance," Abby favors her friends with a conspiratorial wink.
"It'll be fine," Cynthia adds.
"I'm going to be among strangers. I can't do this."
"Strangers you will never see again. Just for once let your hair down."
The lock clicks off and the door swings inward. "You had to mention hair."
The hair in question is a tall black wig which, though it hangs in voluminous waves down her back, is coiffed to some nine inches upon her head and requires Jenny to be cautious in keeping it balanced.
Her erect posture is also essential because the long black dress clings closer than most lovers, except in front where it's open from shoulders down to a point a fraction above her navel. Below that point a short sliver dagger is sewn by the scabbard into the dress. The dress is slit from hem to hip and only be standing still is she safe. The view of her décolletage is impressive; the material stops a fraction of an inch from uncovering her areolas.
Jenny points a black lacquered fingernail at the Goth Girl. "You are the one who's supposed to be the 'Mistress of the Dark'."
"I'm 'Mysterious', or so they tell me. You're the 'Mistress', Elvira."
"Does it have to be so tight?" Jennifer tugs at the generous front, then must give up. The material doesn't yield an inch and she risks displaying the charms she would hide with her tugging. She must trust the double sided tape that lines the inside. She's never been big on trust.
"That is so hot!" Cynthia exclaims, amazed at her boss' new image. Even without Elvira's signature overly mascaraed eyes, the effect is staggering.
"Wow!" Michelle exclaims, "Director, unlike Sammy I'm not into women - but you are - wow!"
Jenny covers her face. "I can't believe this."
"Stand up straight," Abby urges.
Jenny glares at her between spread fingers. "I have to or this dress will flash everyone in the room, tape or no tape." She drops her hands. "How does she do it?"
"You've never done double reverse twin spinning tassels."
Jenny doesn't want this one explained.
"You've got the equipment to hold it." Cynthia assures her. Of that there can be no doubt.
"Thanks," she says flatly, not at all thankful for the situation. "Abby, you invited me to a party and I am grateful - but after this you are really going to owe me!"
xxx
Late Saturday evening Abby and Jennifer enter the bullpen to collect the third member of their haunted trio. Overcoats are the rule of the night. All that's visible under those coats are boots; bright red leather for Abby, shiny black for Michelle. The long black hem of Jennifer's dress reaches under her overcoat to black high heeled slippers.
"Well, Probette," Tony says as Michelle joins the other women, "I hope you have a really good time." His wish lacks sincerity, since the team's rotation has led them to a Saturday night shift - minus one. Even Ziva, seated across from Tony, cannot raise any sincere wish for her partner's enjoyment.
"I will," Michelle promises Tony as she joins the pair of similarly disguised women. The only visible distinction in them is that Shepherd's black and white mascara is artful but heavy.
Tony, still stinging at being unable to get the evening off, turns his aggravated glare on the smiling women. "Well, if I'm stuck here at least I have the satisfaction that the Probie is too."
"Well, Tony, I don't have to be anywhere tonight," McGee counters with vast satisfaction. "I'm not meeting Shav until tomorrow after Mass."
"Sure, rub it in. What is it this time? A play? A movie?"
"Nope. Pre-Cana conference with Father Donaldson."
"Sounds like fun. Not."
"Maybe, but it's the rules. And if a regular couple can't duck them, Shav certainly can't."
"I'd think she could teach them. Hasn't she offered private lessons?"
"She can. She does." He's answered the first question and ignored the second. "She can't." He smiles. "Catch-22. But then we have tickets to see 'Wicked'."
"Besides," Abby interjects, happy to needle the man, "aren't you supposed to be planning Tim's bachelor party, Mister Best Man?"
"Got that well in hand," he assures her. "The entertainment is illegal in eleven states. And you can't come."
"Don't worry," she smirks, "I'm going to do that at the Bachelorette party."
Tony can't help it, his mouth falls open.
x
Before even her two companions can recover from that declaration, Abby checks her watch and announces: "Only twenty minutes, girls." Jennifer gives her an aborted glare but says nothing. "We should get downstairs."
"Come on," DiNozzo urges, "time for the unveiling."
"You'll have to find it on the Internet - if anyone posts anything," Abby counters, not admitting her certainty that the House's website will be crowded with Opening Night photos.
The look Tim gives them shows he's confident he'll find plenty of material with which to embarrass them.
Each woman has a single small overnight case that contains camera, make-up and essentials. The management had published a disclaimer refusing responsibility for lost or damaged merchandise, so they recommended nothing extra be brought.
"Have you seen the film?" Abby asks as she picks her case up from beside her red booted feet.
"Jimmy and I rented it the other day."
"I haven't had time," Jennifer admits.
"Then you'll just have to be surprised. The terms are exactly like in the movie. We'll be picked up at 9:30, rendezvous with the other guests and get to the house about 10:30. We can bring cameras but no cell phones."
"No phones?" Jennifer doesn't like that condition.
"They didn't exist in the 50's."
"Neither did digital cameras."
"We're supposed to be interacting with everyone else at the party, not with Ma Bell. Besides, there's a lot of electronic equipment that create the special effects. Cell phones can interfere with them."
"All right." She doesn't like being out of touch; NCIS is a world-wide, 24/7 operation. "Gibbs, you're in charge until I get back." She doesn't need to look at the man to feel his twin lasers bore into her. There are advantages to being Deputy Special Agent-in-Charge and, for Gibbs, disadvantages as well. Shepherd isn't sure who'll be unhappier, him or Cynthia Sumner. Hopefully they can make it through the rest of the evening without killing each other.
x
"At midnight," Abby continues, "the doors are locked and everyone must stay until eight in the morning. Anyone who wants to leave must do so before midnight, but they're not going to get paid."
"Paid?" This is the first time Shepherd has heard about payment.
"Paid in the good time the rest of us are going to have."
"Come on," Tony urges again, unable to endure the mystery, "you can't come down here and not show us."
Abby glances at her friends and shrugs. "It's only fair. When we get there there'll be a grand unveiling."
"Well, it probably needs the wig for the full effect," Jenny says as she opens her coat and slips it off. The long, tight black dress is slit on the right side from hem to hip to bare one supple leg. The slice comes so high that she'd had to choose her highest black underwear - or go without. As it is, it's a near thing.
The top has given her the most problems. Slit almost to her navel, there's not enough material to draw together for decent coverage, tape or no tape. A small silver dagger low to her stomach, just below the open point and far too suggestive in its placement for her taste, is the only accent.
"Believe me, director," Tony ventures when he can find his voice, "it doesn't need the wig."
"Abby, I'm never going to forgive you," Jenny vows as she turns toward Ziva, her back to DiNozzo and she tugs ineffectually at the overly generous top. She sees movement to her right. "Agent McGee, if you aim that camera-phone you are going to need Ducky to get it back."
"Um, yes ma'am."
x
From her bag, Abby pulls out a red headpiece. At first no one is sure if the framing headpiece is supposed to be a stylized 'M' or horns. When she takes off her long coat, she wears a scarlet body suit enhanced with deep pink sheer nylons on legs and arms.
Though the top cups rather than covers her breasts, the sheer, deep pink material tints her flesh to her neck. She pulls on a pair of red gloves and then throws a long, flowing red cape over her shoulders. It reaches nearly to her heels.
"Wanda Maximoff!" Tim exclaims with unalloyed delight. Abby grips the left edge of the cape and turns about to show off the costume. The spider web at her neck is half obscured by the cloak.
"I knew I couldn't fool you, McGee. Difference is, the Scarlet Witch won't put a hex on you if you try to take a picture."
"I will," Michelle warns.
"Considering she's the real witch, Probie," Tony quips, "I'd listen."
"What about you, Michelle?" Tim presses. All he can see are gold earrings resembling large stylized gold bats which hang by one wing from each lobe, each four inches in wingspan. The only other distinction is the hair styling she'd had done for that 'We' magazine article, which leaves her fuller and curvier than her normal straight locks.
Michelle holds the coat closed. "No."
"Come on," Abby urges. "We did."
"I changed my mind."
"From what?" Jenny quips, never entirely sure about the psychic Wiccan.
"You didn't see it either?" Gibbs asks. Now he's intrigued.
"No," Jenny says.
"She's being stubborn," Abby adds. She and Jennifer step to either side on the woman, tower over her. No one will let the blushing woman slip away.
x
"Oh all right!" Michelle unbuttons the coat and throws it off her shoulders, lets it fall to a cloth puddle at her black boots. Her defiant stance dares anyone to say a word.
Tim's eyes are widest. His mouth falls open - and open - and open.
"Whoooaaa," Abby breathes, summing up everyone's feelings.
Michelle's black leather boots are calf high but the costume - what there is of it - is as scarlet as Abby's with far less material. Attached by a gold circlet at her throat to a high stand-up white collar, the costume is a pair of impressively thin strips that flare outward from the circlet in a half-hearted attempt to cover her breasts. They then reach down to join into a brief high-hip monokini bottom. A stylized gold bat on the front of the monokini provides an attractive distraction.
"Vampirella…." Tim draws the name out in a long breath and wishes that he could risk pulling out his camera phone, having to settle for his best memory.
"I can name nine nude beaches on which you would still be arrested," Ziva warns.
"What about the fangs?" Tony quips to jump-start his mind.
"I'm wearing them," Michelle insists, smiling to display a set of points barely a quarter-inch long.
"They're very … dainty," Shepherd grants.
"You'll never find enough blood to draw with those," Abby predicts.
"Not a problem. Whenever I wear this, all of Jimmy's blood goes to one place."
xx
At 9:30 a black limo bearing placards for 'Price Funeral Home' gains admittance through the main gate and pulls in front of NCIS Headquarters. The three women get in, their trip to the macabre fantasy night under way.