Where We Love is Home

by ShadeShifter

Finding Home 2. Tony catches a new case and there are several forces working behind the scenes. Then Gibbs gets the same case. Hotch/Tony. Sequel to Small Beginnings (wherein Tony gets a team at the FBI). Includes Supernatural, Angel, Highlander and Magnificent 7

"Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven

...

Gibbs glanced over the too quiet bullpen as he made his way up to Vance's office. Tony was gone. That thought still shocked and angered him. His rage carried him past Vance's secretary, Gibbs hadn't bothered to learn her name – she was no Cynthia, and the long-haired young man waiting to see the director and into Vance's office.

"You wanted to see me," he snarled.

"Agent Gibbs," Vance said with a pleasant smile that seemed pasted on as an afterthought. He pushed a file across the table. Gibbs stared at him, arms folded across his chest. "You're down a team member. I have a suggestion."

Gibbs knew it wasn't a suggestion. He remembered what had happened last time he'd had team members foisted upon him and it was hardly good. Still, the team was struggling to balance their usual duties in addition to the ones they'd had to take on after Tony… after Tony. McGee still didn't know how to deal with the team, to lessen tension, or to show support when necessary. Gibbs sighed and reached for the file. Vance was playing games with him, but he could admit that Tony wasn't going to come back, and he needed to do something to change the situation. It was untenable as it was.

The information in the file was sparse. Education was all over the place, literally. It started in Texas and wound its way to Colorado, with gaps of anything from weeks to years. He joined the army at what he claimed was eighteen, but Gibbs very much doubted that. Early records were sparse and Gibbs couldn't see any record of a birth certificate. There was a stint in the Rangers that, from what Gibbs read between the lines, didn't end well and then several years of bounty hunting. Tanner hadn't spent more than a handful of weeks in one place while bounty hunting. There was even a few years in the ATF, but that seemed to end just as abortively as his time in the Rangers. The whole thing unaccountably reminded Gibbs of Tony.

Gibbs knew the team wouldn't take easily to the kid. It had nothing to do with his capabilities but with the fact that he would be taking Tony's place, even if it wasn't Tony's position. But Gibbs wouldn't find out Vance's game unless he played it.

Didn't mean he had to make it easy for Vance.

"He's been accused of murder."

"It wouldn't be the first agent of yours accused of murder," Vance said, watching Gibbs steadily. "I believe DiNozzo was up to three accusations."

"Why do you want him?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward. Vance wasn't intimidated, but Gibbs didn't expect him to show anything even if he was.

"He comes highly recommended," Vance replied easily, "and he'd made a number of connections in surprising places."

Gibbs's eyes narrowed. That wasn't the whole story, not even close, but it gave Gibbs a place to start.

"Where is this amazing agent then?"

Vance leaned forward and pressed a button on his phone.

"Send Agent Tanner in."

Gibbs turned to see the long-haired young man who'd been waiting in reception step confidently into the office. He wasn't dressed like most agents, even taking into account Abby's goth apparel. A dark T-shirt, tucked into worn jeans, was overlaid with a flannel shirt. He was not the kind of agent Vance usually backed. Certainly, he had no computer qualifications and barely any educational qualifications at all. He was practically the anti-McGee.

"Director Vance," Tanner said as his gaze swept from Gibbs to Vance.

"I'm putting you on Gibbs's team."

"Yes, sir," Tanner said, gaze turning back on Gibbs. Gibbs could already tell that this one wasn't going to be easily intimidated and his usual methods of controlling the team would be all but useless.

"Move it, Tanner," Gibbs said as he stalked out of the office.

"Yes sir," Tanner said as he followed.

"Don't call me 'sir'. I work for a living."

"Yes sir," Tanner echoed and Gibbs could hear the smirk in his voice. Gibbs rounded on him, but there was nothing of his tone in his expression.

"Boss?" McGee questioned as he watched the new agent trailing behind Gibbs.

"According to Vance, Tanner's your new teammate," Gibbs told them. He noticed Tanner's eyes narrow at the way Gibbs undercut his position, but Tanner didn't say anything. Gibbs suppressed his snort. If Tanner couldn't stand up to him, he wasn't going to last long.

He couldn't keep the fierce grin off his face when Tanner dumped his bag on Tony's desk. Both Ziva and McGee immediately rose to their feet.

"That desk isn't available," McGee told him in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Your desk is over there," Ziva added as she pointed across the space to the small desk behind McGee's. Tanner's eyebrows rose but he moved without complaint to drop his things on the other desk. Gibbs's glare intensified. He didn't even want Tanner on his team if Tanner couldn't stand up to his teammates. He was a poor substitute for DiNozzo. Hell, he was a poor substitute for Langer. Gibbs grabbed a pile of papers from his desk and dropped them on Tanner's.

"Admission forms. They need to be filled out and filed by tomorrow."

McGee looked like he was about to protest the early deadline but a look from Gibbs stopped him. McGee gave him a small nod.

"Yes sir," Tanner murmured as he sat at the desk.

"It's Gibbs or Boss," Gibbs barked.

"Boss?" Tanner asked as he grabbed the first of the forms from the pile. Gibbs just stared at him. "I'll get right on that, sir."

McGee and Ziva froze. Gibbs remained silent as he began to think up new tasks for his agent.

…

Vin waited until ten minutes after Gibbs had left for the night before he picked up his things and moved into the spare desk. He knew they'd lost a teammate, and Vin understood how difficult that could be in intimate detail, but he wasn't going to take their shit just because they were resentful of his presence.

The desk was empty except for a box of medals in the bottom drawer. He didn't know who they belonged to, so he left them there. Besides, he didn't have many possessions and he hardly needed the space.

He rubbed at weary eyes as he reached for another form. The letters had long since started to blur and jump before his eyes, but he'd been given a job and he was going to finish it.

"Gibbs?" a woman called as she walked between the desks. She stopped short when she saw him. "Hi," she said brightly, "you must be the new team member."

It took a while for Vin to distract himself from the tattoos and collar so he could nod.

"I'm Abby, queen of the lab. What you working on?" the woman asked as she picked up one of the forms he'd been filling before he could protest. "Oh dear."

Vin grabbed one of the sheets of paper and looked it over, noticing all the mistakes he'd made. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. There was no way he was going to get it done. A slender hand rested on his arm and Abby squeezed lightly.

"We'll get this sorted out in no time," she assured him and picked up the phone. "Jimmy, I'm so glad you're still in. You willing to stick around for a few more hours, I need a favour."

In less than ten minutes Vin had new copies of the forms and two extra people to help him sort things out. He was also supplied with coffee and various vending machine foods. Abby had something called a caff-pow and Vin was curious to try one. The whole thing reminded Vin a little too much of his team. Grief and longing clenched in his gut. At least he had his weekly check in with the team the next night, that was something to look forward to.

It was late by the time they were done and Vin didn't know how to express his gratitude. They didn't know him, they could easily have been like the others, but they were helping him instead.

"Thanks," he said, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. Dyslexia was never something he wanted to admit to, it had been used against him so many times. Abby's smile was warm and Jimmy's friendly, if nervous.

"How are you at bowling?" Abby asked suddenly. Vin shrugged. "Well, we'll have to get you up to speed. There's a match in a month," she said as she began to pack up. She cast a significant look at Jimmy who simply looked confused.

"Oh right," Jimmy said. "There's a basketball game on this weekend. You up for it?"

"Guess so," Vin murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. They'd clearly decided to take him under their wing, and he needed an in. This was as good as any other. He clearly wasn't going to get one with the team. Especially not when he was this close to Victor Fitzgerald.

It wasn't Vin's most stellar idea to move to the same town as Victor Fitzgerald, but he had the backing of the Director of NCIS, and that would provide at least some protection. Vance may be using him, but Vin was quite happy to use the Director right back.

"Don't worry," Abby told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We won't lead you wrong."

"DiNozzo," Tony answered his ringing phone, head cocked as he listened. Baines chatted away on his own phone call in Italian – at least Tony thought it was Italian, it wasn't a dialect he'd ever heard; MacDonald ignored him and continued clicking away at his mouse – Tony assumed he was browsing, not working; and Winchester cleaned his gun – he didn't do much paperwork and his reports generally consisted of "Shot bad guy. Rescued dumbass civilian." As crazy and annoying as they were, they were still one of the best teams Tony had ever worked with.

"Get to it, we've got a body."

"Finally," Dean muttered, reassembling his gun in moments and sliding it into the shoulder holster he preferred.

"Sign out a car, I'll be down in five minutes," Tony told Baines who nodded. He decided to ignore the team's smirks and snickers as he made his way to the stairs. Between them they'd easily worked out he was seeing someone and just who that someone was. Boundary issues were one of the big problems he'd stumbled across with his team. As private as they all were, they liked to know everything about each other. It hardly made for smooth team dynamics, especially when none of them really knew when to quit, but they always seemed to back each other up when they really needed it.

Tony climbed the stairs two at a time, ducked past Morgan's office and into the BAU's bullpen. He was expecting Hotch and maybe JJ, even Rossi, but not the entire team. He stopped short, but they'd already seen him. He smiled a little sheepishly when Hotch looked up and saw him. The little quirk that might have been a smile was enough to wipe away any unease. Aaron made his way over and Tony was acutely aware of the others watching them.

"Sorry," Tony said, nodding in the direction of the team.

"It's not a problem," Aaron assured him. "We're just finishing up a case."

They stood awkwardly, not touching each other.

"I just caught a case, so I won't be able to make tonight," Tony told him.

Aaron's hand became a warm weight on his arm as he stepped closer and Tony grinned. They weren't in the same unit or in the same chain of command, so they weren't strictly against policy, but it would probably be frowned upon for more reasons than just regulations. That Aaron was willing to risk it, to expose himself to the scrutiny of his fellow agents, meant everything. Tony didn't have much of a good reputation to uphold, not with the kinds of cases he took, but Aaron was widely respected and outing himself was risky as hell. Still, the look on Aaron's face brooked no argument from Tony about his choice.

Aaron might have been tipped to take over the Bureau one day if he hadn't been too honorable to play politics – he'd already made a number of influential enemies – but it could still stunt, if not jeopardize, his career. Tony tried to think of the last lover he'd had that had risked so much for him and couldn't come up with anyone. It was selfish as hell, but Tony liked feeling that important to someone.

"Hopefully we'll be done in a few days though," Tony added.

"Jack's looking forward to this weekend."

"I know," Tony said, his expression softening with affection. Jack was probably the only kid he actually got along with. "I am too." Tony had been invited along to their trip to the zoo when Aaron found out he'd never been. It wasn't something Tony's parents would have indulged him in and it was hardly on a military school's agenda.

"Be careful," Aaron told him.

"As you wish," Tony said and lightly pressed his lips to Aaron's. Aaron's grip tightened on his arm, and Tony knew he understood. It was as close as they'd come to saying anything without actually saying it. Aaron hadn't got the reference until Tony made him sit through the Princess Bride. The exchange had become standard fare after that.

Tony turned and jogged down to the carpool to where, hopefully, MacDonald had signed out a car. Baines hardly ever paid attention to the road, he claimed he'd been driving for so long that it was second nature, and Winchester was always a little reckless with cars that weren't his '67 Impala. Not that Tony could fault Dean's taste in cars. At least that was one benefit to working for the FBI; Tony hadn't lost a car yet.

…

"That," Winchester declared, "is really not pleasant."

Tony couldn't help but agree. With the exception of MacDonald, and possibly Baines – Tony was never too sure about him – they were used to grisly crime scenes, but some were just beyond even the most hardened investigators to easily cope with.

"Werewolf?" MacDonald offered as he very carefully looked near the body without actually looking at it.

Baines snapped on a pair of gloves and knelt down beside the body. He began what seemed to Tony to be a rather thorough examination of the wounds. Tony supposed that chopping off people's heads generally made one immune to gore, but even so, Baines was a little too familiar with it for Tony's comfort.

"These cuts are too smooth for claws."

Tony pulled his jacket tighter around him. Next time he left his job and transferred somewhere, he was going somewhere warm. He sighed, even joking about leaving Aaron and Jack caused a jolt of panic to shoot through him. He was in way too deep and it was way too late to back out.

"Run of the mill psycho then?" MacDonald said, interrupting Tony's thoughts.

"Always said humans are just plain crazy," Winchester muttered. Baines smirked and pulled off his gloves.

"I wouldn't rule out the supernatural just yet. It's not easy to take down a guy as big as him quietly."

The Baines glanced around the scene as though he was evaluating exactly how he would accomplish such a task. Tony raised an eyebrow and Baines shrugged.

"Sedatives," Baines suggested. "Or a spell or curse, to cause weakness or confusion."

"Demon," was MacDonald's offer. "Superior strength and speed."

"Multiple assailants," Dean said. Then off their looks, "What?! I can do the whole cop thing. I've played cops plenty."

The last was said a little petulantly and Baines and MacDonald looked at each other and snickered. Tony ignored the byplay. Winchester had already made a number of ingenious adjustments to their weapons and brought a vast amount of knowledge and experience to their team, there was no doubting his contribution to the team in spite of his lack of formal education. Besides, he had the moral high ground over at least MacDonald and, Tony suspected, Baines too.

"It's generally not advisable to admit to felonies, even if you are The Man these days," Baines said. Winchester grinned.

"Hey, I got immunity."

"Forensics will be running a tox panel, but I want you looking into all possibilities until we get the results," Tony told them, hoping to nip the latest squabble in the bud. He stamped his feet in the grey sludge that remained of the earlier snow fall, trying to keep warm, and wondered if it was going to snow again. "Oh, and Baines, I want the damn keys to the car."

…

Vin had just settled on his bed, he hadn't even bothered to take off more than his boots, when his phone rang. He sighed and reached for the phone.

"Tanner," he said tiredly.

"Did I wake you?" Chris asked and Vin felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He'd half expected it to be Gibbs calling him in on a case.

"Haven't gone to bed yet."

"Bad day?"

"Nah," Vin said, and it hadn't really been all that particularly bad in the scheme of things. No one had been shot or tortured, which already put it fairly high up on the list. "Just long."

"How's it going?" Chris asked. The phone was supposed to be secure, but they weren't going to take any risks by being too specific. The phone wasn't the only thing that could be tapped or bugged.

"I'm just crossing my T's and dotting my I's, for now," Vin told him, even if it wasn't really the question Chris had asked. He wasn't entirely sure how he was doing otherwise. He'd come to rely on the team, on Chris, and it was difficult to be separated from them. It scared him a little, too.

"Anyone got any idea?"

"No."

If he wasn't so conscientious about his job he'd almost be tempted to do it badly just so someone would suspect. If it all went to hell and his cover was blown then he'd get to go home.

"Vin," Chris said, and there was sympathy and so much more in his voice, but he didn't continue.

"Yeah, I know."

They were quiet a moment but Vin appreciated the sense of connection he'd been missing.

"You should get some rest," Chris said eventually. It wasn't likely that he was going to get any rest while he was in DC, not surrounded by potential and known enemies as he was, but he hummed agreement.

There was nothing further they could say that would encompass what they meant, so the goodbyes were perfunctory. Still, Vin smiled as he dropped his head to his pillow.

...

Vin arrived at work early, mostly so he could be properly situated before anyone else arrived so they couldn't easily remove him from the desk. He started off by plugging in the flashdrive JD had supplied him with. Automatically, a program started to run which would give JD access to NCIS records. Vin didn't have any idea about how it worked, but he trusted JD to know his job.

He then started looking over old case files from Gibbs's team. A lot was left out, quite obviously, but he was able to get the gist of the team dynamics. Things were tense, even before the previous senior agent left, but the team had good results regardless. That meant Gibbs was an efficient leader even if he wasn't a nice one.

The hair on the back of Vin's neck rose, warning that someone was watching him. His sharp hearing picked up the faintest sound of movement, which probably would have been drowned out if the office was any busier.

"Something you want to know?" Gibbs growled. Vin nonchalantly looked up and easily met Gibbs's fierce gaze. His glare was good, maybe even as good as Chris's, but not even Chris had managed to intimidate him.

"Just getting to know the team, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir'."

"Of course not, sir."

Gibbs snarled and Vin carefully kept his smirk off his face. If Gibbs wasn't going to be reasonable, then neither was Vin. It had been a long time since he'd been willing to take any crap from anyone he didn't have to.

"We got a case?" he asked.

"No."

Gibbs stalked across the bullpen and down the stairs. Vin knew he'd pay for that later, but he didn't know how long he'd have to stick around and he couldn't face months of being submissive to someone like Gibbs. Not when he wanted to be with his team, with Chris, so much.

He pulled out his secure phone and scrolled until he'd reached Chris's number but he didn't press the call button. He'd already contacted Chris that week and they couldn't afford anything more often. Vin slipped the phone back into his pocket before returning to the files.

…

Methos walked into the coffee shop and glanced over the long queue. With a roll of his eyes, he withdrew his badge and made his way to the counter. The woman there hesitated and Methos leaned forward, saying something obviously charming. The barista giggled and smiled coyly.

Red eyes, gleaming with possessive jealousy, watched from across the road as the Immortal smiled warmly at the woman and her eyes slid briefly away as she blushed before returning to Methos's. She indicated assent and turned to make his order. He leaned casually on the counter as he watched.

Red eyes narrowed as Methos handed over a few bills and turned to leave with four coffees, still smiling. The Immortal was relaxed, comfortable with his life, and oh so weak. It seemed the lesson of his vulnerability bore repeating.

...

"There's nothing here," Dean said, shifting impatiently through the disorganized pile of copies of photographs and various pages of results.

"Which is evidence in itself," Baines said absently, resting his feet on the corner of his desk. Tony had seen that exact pose on team nights, and it was still a little odd to have come to expect and even anticipate team nights. All that was missing was the beer. Gibbs would never have tolerated it, but Tony found himself more than okay with that. He wasn't Gibbs and that wasn't a bad thing.

"What do we have on the victim?" he asked.

"Lieutenant James Carver, Navy. 31, single, lives alone," Lindsey told him.

Tony sighed, expression drawing into a frown. He really didn't want to have to work with NCIS on this one. He'd managed to avoid them completely until now. Although, maybe he'd get a team that would be happy to hand off the case to the crazy FBI guys.

Baines snickered at something on his computer screen and Tony rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. Baines tended to get stuck into the personal stuff first and he was good at it, good at making connections between seemingly random bits of information and the victim's relationships. His grasp of human nature was frankly astonishing sometimes and more than a little scary.

Baines grabbed the back of MacDonald's chair and pulled it over so that MacDonald could see what he was looking at and MacDonald snickered too. No doubt they were looking at the victim's Facebook. Tony tried not to think too much about it.

Tony rose to his feet and left their section of the bullpen. If he didn't leave now he was going to either be driven insane or completely blow up at his team. And Gibbs had thought he was unorthodox. Tony knew how to goof off and get results, he was quite practiced at it. He still had no idea how his team managed it. Gibbs would never have survived them. Tony didn't know if he would, but he'd certainly have fun on the way out.

He descended the stairs and made his way out of the building. He pulled out his cell phone as he ambled his way to the coffee shop around the corner.

"SSA Hotchner," the voice on the other end of the phone said and Tony found himself smiling.

"Aaron," Tony said, "I was hoping to steal a few minutes."

"Maybe just a few," Aaron told him with fond amusement and Tony could just imagine the slight curl of his lip that meant Aaron was smiling.

"I'd better be quick then," he said with a laugh. "If I send you some pictures of a crime scene, can you give me an opinion?"

"Trying to misappropriate FBI resources?" Aaron teased. Tony was sure that Strauss would have both their asses if she found out about it.

"I like to live dangerously."

"Let me see what you've got."

Tony sent the photographs he'd saved to his phone to Aaron and waited a few moments while Aaron looked them over.

"The focus on the face, the frenzy of the attack, it looks personal. Your victim likely knew his killer. I think you're looking for a male, aged 21 to 35, a loner who has trouble interacting with others."

"Thanks."

"It's just a provisional analysis," Aaron cautioned.

"I know, but it's always good to have another perspective."

"It that all you called about?" Aaron asked, amused again.

"Maybe not entirely," Tony admitted, because it was always good to hear Aaron's voice.

"Be careful," Aaron told him, that amused and affectionate tone that always made Tony feel warmhearted.

"As you wish."

...

Vin climbed out of the passenger side of the car and waited for his equilibrium to return. Ziva in a car was bad, but Buck in a helicopter racing to save JD or Chris was worse. He glanced around, taking in the crime scene. He was a little uncomfortable at being out in the field without his brothers at his back, without being able to trust them implicitly to defend him. It left him a little edgy and apprehensive. Not long after his confrontation with Gibbs that morning, and it had been a chilly reception that morning when the others saw where he was seated, they'd received a case.

"Tanner, I want you to collect evidence," Gibbs told him as Ziva went to collect the camera and McGee trailed after Gibbs to interview the witnesses. Vin was more than happy with the laborious and often disgusting job. It meant he'd spend most of his time away from the others.

He grabbed one of the evidence kits and walked to the furthest edge of the crime scene. Jimmy gave him a small wave, followed by a brief smile from Ducky, as he walked past and Vin felt a little easing of the tension that corded his shoulders and stiffened his spine. He was not entirely without allies in this place.

From what he'd been briefed on the case, a navy officer had been murdered rather viciously. Vin avoided looking directly at the woman's body. Ziva and Ducky would be dealing with her and Vin was glad he didn't have to. Despite having dealt with the aftermath of crime scenes and even being involved in a few – being an undercover agent with the ATF meant that was inevitable, he'd had very little practice with crime scenes.

Vin's other phone rang, the one which was secure and couldn't be traced, the one that was his single link to his brothers. He answered it immediately.

"Chris?"

"Ezra," the other man corrected immediately. Vin held back his sigh.

"Hey Ez," he said, not unhappy to hear the other man's voice. Any connection was a good one, but Chris was something else, something more.

Vin glanced in the direction of the others before he stepped a little further away. None of them were looking at him and Gibbs and McGee weren't in sight, but that didn't preclude Gibbs suddenly showing up as he was wont to.

"It is good to hear you, Mr Tanner," Ezra said and Vin smiled.

"You too, Ez."

"Are you managing?"

"Enough."

"We wanted to warn you that Vance is starting to bring his authority to bear."

"Didn't expect much else."

"It might become a little uncomfortable for you."

"I know," Vin said. It was something they'd discussed long and comprehensively before they'd decided on how to investigate the case.

"If you need us, we will be at your side," Ezra insisted.

""Yeah, Ez, I know," Vin said with a roll of his eyes. As if he had any doubt.

"Tanner!" Gibbs yelled. "Talk to your girlfriend in your own time!"

Vin felt his cheeks heat a little at the implication and glared as Ezra chuckled.

"Catch you next week," Vin said.

"Without doubt," Ezra assured him.

Vin felt buoyed as he ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket and returned to collecting evidence.

…

MacDonald frowned as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"If you could send over the files, we'll look them over and compare case notes," he said. His mouth began to pull into a sneer as he listened again. "I'll let him know." MacDonald covered the mouthpiece with a hand, well aware of the fact that it wouldn't completely block out his voice, and turned to Tony. "Hey DiNozzo, NCIS wants a joint investigation."

Tony sighed and tried to steel himself against the idea of working with his old agency and even possibly his old team. He held out his hand for the phone. MacDonald stared at him expressionlessly before he lowered his hand from the mouthpiece.

"We'll think about it," MacDonald said before putting the phone down. Tony stared at him in shock for a moment before simply shaking his head.

"So, what's going on, Boss?" Tony asked, voice laden with sarcasm.

"Agent Gibbs has a similar case. Female victim, navy officer," MacDonald told him, eyes narrowing as he keenly watched Tony's expression.

Tony sighed, not just at the connection to his old team, but at the fact that his current team clearly knew all that about him. He'd had the understanding that they probably knew all about him and, at least, his professional history – they were all crazy and paranoid enough that not doing so would have seemed irrational – but to have it spelled out to him so blatantly was a little unsettling.

"Looks like we're going to Washington," Tony said. They others had begun to gather their things before he'd even begun to speak.

Baines and MacDonald shared a glance before including Dean in that silent communication. Tony sighed and let them continue. Reining them in never worked. Or at least, it never worked in a manner that benefitted him in the long run. Each of them had a wicked sense of humour and the intelligence to make payback more than a little uncomfortable.

Tony still smiled a little at the thought of his team defending him. And they would, of that he had no doubt. They may bicker amongst themselves and have more than a few issues with each other, but no one else was allowed to infringe on that. It was like what he'd thought of Gibbs's team in the beginning. As an extremely dysfunctional family, but his none-the-less.

...

"Hey Abs," Tony said with a grin, into his phone.

"Tony!" she squealed. "We've got a new you! Well, not you, clearly. I mean he's not a clone. And he's not even really like you except that he doesn't let anyone push him around. He really very sweet."

"As long as he treats you right," Tony said as soon as he could get a word in.

"He's awfully polite," Abby told him, her tone uncertain as to whether that was a good thing or not. Tony laughed. Only Abby.

"I have a surprise for you," he told her.

"A good surprise or a bad surprise?" she asked, though he could already hear excitement in her voice.

"Only good surprises for you."

"Ooh, let me guess. Is it a present? Flowers? Music? A concert? A puppy?"

"Wrong on all counts," Tony said as he stepped into her lab. He ended the call and slipped his phone into pocket as Abby launched herself at him and wrapped herself around him. Abby's embraces were never just hugs.

"Tony! Oh, wait until Jimmy and Ducky hear about this. Jimmy's been very good about helping him settle in."

Tony assumed she was talking about the new guy and was glad that they were giving him a hand, since it couldn't have been easy to step into his old team.

"I'm glad to hear that," Tony said, gently disentangling himself from her. Abby looked at him, eyes wide.

"Why are you here?" she asked finally, her excitement dying down a little bit, but never by much.

"Case."

"Does this mean we're going to work together again?" she asked as she bounced on his toes. Tony was never entirely sure how she managed it with her platform shoes.

"Maybe," Tony conceded. He couldn't say 'hopefully' because that meant working with Gibbs and the others as well.

"It's still good to see you," Abby insisted and she wrapped herself around him again.

"You, too, Abs."

"With me, DiNozzo," Gibbs said from where he stood, arms folded and glaring, in the doorway. Tony stiffened briefly, ready to jump into action and obey the command before he caught himself. He glared back.

"My team is upstairs in the conference room. You're welcome to join us there," he said.

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment before he turned and walked away. Tony heard the elevator ding as it arrived on the floor. He bid Abby a quick goodbye and then took the stairs.

...

Gibbs stalked through the bullpen, pausing only long enough to jerk his head so that the team would follow him and then continued on to the conference room. He heard them scramble to keep up with him and felt grim satisfaction. He pushed open the door with a little too much force and it slammed against the wall. No one in the room jumped. Although there was more than a little reaching for convenient weapons.

Tony settled at the table, loose-limbed and relaxed, and completely devoid of any of the fight for dominance that Gibbs had anticipated. But Tony hadn't ever fought Gibbs unless he was endangering himself or others. The rest of Tony's team lounged in various positions, uninterested once the threat he presented had been dismissed. Gibbs wondered what Tony had been telling his team.

Ziva and McGee followed him almost immediately and Tanner sidled in a moment later. Gibbs wasn't surprised when Tony watched Tanner with keen interest, especially when Tanner leaned across the table to shake hands with Tony's team.

Gibbs folded his arms.

"If you're done braiding each other's hair."

"We'll paint our nails later," Tanner retorted.

"After the midnight feast," the freckled kid on Tony's team said. He then pulled a knife from his boot and began to pick at his nails.

"We can talk about all the cute boys after that," the kid with the large nose added as he slouched back in his seat and rested his feet on the conference table. It was like dealing with four DiNozzos. Possibly five if the narrow-eyed look of the other man was any indication.

Tanner settled opposite the only member of Tony's team, other than Tony himself, in a suit. Gibbs, despite not being big on formalities, had never seen field agents as scruffy as the freckled and large nosed kids. He wondered where Tony had found them.

"You've got our case," Gibbs told them. He ignored Tanner's surprised look and the way none of the others seemed surprised at all.

"You got our case," Tony said softly but firmly. This was not the Tony he was used to. It would almost be worth working together just so he could find out what had changed, why he had left.

"Both victims are navy."

Tony began to look smug and it was as if Gibbs was finally seeing the Tony he was used to – the confident, but flashy and attention-seeking version, instead of the new quietly self-assured version.

"You're still not taking the case."

"That so?"

"That's so."

"All I'd need to do is call Vance," Gibbs said, not missing the way Tanner stiffened in his seat. Tony clearly didn't either, as his gaze cut briefly away from Gibbs's before returning.

"Go ahead," Tony told him, leaning back in his chair.

Of course Gibbs would never go begging to Vance go get the FBI off his back, especially when the FBI agent in question was Tony. And Tony knew it.

"Get your tech guy working with McGee."

Nose raised an eyebrow before turning to look at Tony. Tony stared a moment longer at Gibbs before turning to the kid and nodding.

"Is there somewhere I can set up?"

"I'll show you," McGee said, gesturing out the door. Gibbs wasn't entirely sure he liked the smile the kid sent McGee, but if McGee couldn't handle one techie, then he didn't belong on the team.

"MacDonald, Winchester, get started," Tony told them. "Baines will give you instructions."

Gibbs wondered how Nose had ended up Tony's second when he looked barely old enough to vote. The FBI had clearly gone the direction Vance was intending to, placing technical ability over experience. Nose would soon learn.

"If he hasn't eaten that kid alive," the one who'd been silent up until now scoffed. Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Baines will want to lull him into a false sense of security first," Freckles said.

"Baines will behave himself," Tony told them firmly, though his expression was amused. "And so will you."

"Best behaviour," Freckles said, snapping off a formal salute. Gibbs wondered if he was ex-military.

"Scouts honour," Suit added, holding up his right hand, fingers formed into a 'V' shape.

"That's not the scout's salute," Tony said with the kind of resignation that meant the disrespect was not uncommon. "Though I appreciate the sentiment."

"My mistake," Suit said, smirk firmly in place, as he rose and left the room, but not before shooting Gibbs a suspicious glare. Freckles followed quickly.

"Ziva," Gibbs barked, "make sure they're settled in." By which she would understand to keep an eye on them. Tanner rose as she left and watched Gibbs for a moment, before shrugging and making his own way out. Then it was just Gibbs and Tony.

"Just like old times," Tony said with a bitter smile.

"Sometimes the past is best left in the past."

Gibbs was gratified to see Tony wince a little at that, then Tony shrugged and smiled.

"You're probably right."

Gibbs wondered what he was thinking about.

...

Vin looked over their section of the bullpen to see that Baines had set up at his desk. Winchester was sniping with Ziva and MacDonald was watching Vin. Vin jerked his head to one side and MacDonald nodded and slipped silently away from the others. Vin met him in the corner behind the stairs.

"Something you want?" MacDonald asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Just want to know what we're walking into."

"You know as much as we do," MacDonald said, tone and expression carefully neutral.

Vin raised his eyebrows.

"Then what do you suspect?"

"I always suspect everything. I'm a very suspicious person."

Vin found himself smiling, reminded suddenly of Ezra.

"I'll be plain," he said. "I'm a very plain person."

There was the barest hint of a smile curling MacDonald's mouth and Vin knew MacDonald would relent.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Vin shrugged, smile never fading.

"I think there's something else going on here. Something supernatural."

"That's an interesting theory."

"When you grow up around this kind of thing, it becomes instinct."

"Hunter?" MacDonald asked, eyes narrowing.

"No," Vin said, but refused to elaborate. MacDonald smirked.

"Plain, was it?"

"Open book," Vin said, spreading his arms. MacDonald gave him another narrow-eyed once over before smiling.

"You know, working a joint investigation might not be so bad."

"They're almost tolerable once you learn to ignore them."

"Aright," MacDonald said, stance finally relaxing into something resembling approachable. "What do you want to know?"

"I gotta know what we're walking into, so I can protect the team."

"You're sure?" MacDonald asked sceptically.

"I may not like them," Vin allowed, he certainly didn't trust them, "but I'm the Senior Field Agent, it's my job to look out for them. Make sure to cover their backs when they don't know they're exposed."

Lindsey conceded with the barest nod of his head.

"Considering the state of the bodies, we're working under the assumption that there's something supernatural going on. We have a few theories, but nothing solid yet," MacDonald told him.

"What do you suspect?"

"A demon, maybe, or some kind of spell. We're still trying to gather evidence."

"I'll check around, too, see what my sources can come up with," Vin offered.

"You sure you're not a hunter?"

Vin shook his head.

"Son of a slayer?"

"Not even close."

"Witch?"

"Grew up on a reservation," Vin said, relenting a little when it was clear MacDonald wasn't going to quit until he had the answer. It wasn't the whole truth, or even most of it, but it would be enough. MacDonald frowned.

"You're an open book like Gibbs is friendly."

"He just needs the right circumstances," Vin said, thinking of Abby. MacDonald snorted, but let it drop.

"Hey, Tanner, for a cowboy, you're alright," MacDonald said. Vin smiled a little wistfully, thinking of Chris. He really needed this assignment over with so he could go home.

"For a suit, you're alright, too, MacDonald."

They nodded to each other and went their separate ways.

...

Gibbs snapped his phone shut and glanced over at DiNozzo, annoyed at the interruption before he'd managed to confront Tony.

"You're with me DiNozzo. There's another body."

"Take Winchester and MacDonald."

Gibbs assumed that was Freckles and Suit, though he wasn't sure which was which. He folded his arms, but Tony looked at him implacably.

"They're good," Tony insisted. "Though you might want to keep Winchester away from other law enforcement and MacDonald is good with witnesses. Unless they're kids, then use Winchester."

Gibbs gritted his teeth and nodded. He missed the days when Tony hung on his every word and jumped at an opportunity to please him. This Tony was an unknown quantity and Gibbs had no idea how to deal with him.

Gibbs exited the conference room just in time to see Tanner and Suit come out from around the stairs. There was more unknown these days than just Tony and Gibbs hated it. He followed them with his eyes until they rejoined the others.

"Ziva," Gibbs snapped, "gas the truck." She nodded, grabbing her gear as she went. Tanner ambled off in another direction and Gibbs let him go. They'd worked fine without him. "Winchester, MacDonald, you're with me."

Both men folded their arms and Suit raised his eyebrows.

"There's been another murder," Tony said, coming down the stairs beside Gibbs. "You two are on the scene with Gibbs."

Suit remained composed, but Freckles grimaced. Gibbs glared at them and made his way to the elevator, not bothering to check if they followed. Just because Tony hadn't bothered to train them didn't mean Gibbs was going to put up with any insubordination.

"You co-operate and I'm buying drinks," Gibbs heard Tony say. He gritted his teeth and wondered what it would take to solve the case and how quickly they could do it.

...

Lindsey glanced around the apartment, trying to get a sense of the victim. The coroner and his assistant were busy with the body, for which Lindsey was grateful. He hadn't been particularly good with gore after his trip to the Senior Partner's hell. Having your heart ripped, still beating, from your chest everyday would do that to you.

There were almost no personal pictures or items. The bookshelves were full of books related to advertising and design, more magazines than Lindsey cared to think about, and a series of awards and prizes for her work. Despite her time of death being estimated well into the early morning, there was a laptop open on the desk with a splatter of blood across it. There was even a piled of dishes in the sink, dust bunnies in the corners and a dead goldfish floating in the fish bowl. It was a little too familiar from a time in his life when he'd had nothing to live for but his work.

Lindsey sighed and began to take photos, ignoring David as she catalogued evidence. Ignoring each other had been a mutual, if silent, decision and he was sure she would rather be working with someone else on her team. Lindsey certainly would have. He'd even rather work with Tanner, who seemed fairly agreeable and at least appeared to know how to take care of himself if things took a turn for the bizarre.

At least he was away from Gibbs. Lindsey might be tempted to curse him with something horrible and permanent if he'd been stuck in the same room with him for very long. He'd been picked up more than spells on strength and avoiding detection during his travels. Lindsey didn't have many people he trusted or depended upon, but the team had become that to him, had become what he'd been looking for that very first time he'd gone to Angel, looking for redemption.

He couldn't help but smirk at the idea of Winchester being stuck with Gibbs, though. There was a kid next door who'd seen or heard something and Gibbs had dragged Dean, practically kicking and screaming, to talk to him. Lindsey was sure it was something Tony had recommended and Dean was by far the best out of all of them with kids, Adam coming a close second. Dean was going to kill Tony when he worked it out for himself. Or, considering Tony's offer, drink him into financial ruin.

On the other hand, Lindsey was rather grateful it was him and Dean out with Gibbs and not Tony, not with the way Tony didn't speak about his old team and what Adam had uncovered. It didn't look like things had gone down well and Lindsey wasn't going to let anything jeopardise his team, not when things were just settling nicely and, for the first time in his life, he really had something he couldn't afford to lose.

...

Methos took a leisurely stroll through the NCIS databases while McGee tapped frantically at his keyboard. The problem, Methos decided, was that McGee didn't know how to do this the smart way. He attacked firewalls and skirted security. It was the action hero way of doing things, big and bold and full of virtual explosions. Methos preferred the conman version, where he already had all the access he could ever need because they'd already opened the doors for him.

He written a virus, back when he'd first decided to join the FBI, so he'd have access to all sorts of information and could keep ahead of discoveries about things like Immortals. Of course, having access to just the FBI wouldn't be very beneficial when there were dozens of agencies running around, keeping their findings to themselves, so that's where his virus had come in. Well, there were a few variations now, just in case they found one and shut it down.

It spread through networks and email, but it only really activated when he gave the signal, so it was much harder to detect. Once active, it sent him the usernames and passwords that had been used at that station. Ultimately, his admission into the various agencies' databases was through legitimate access and much harder to recognise and track down.

In this case, he was using Gibbs's access. Partly because he'd never notice, but mostly because it amused him to investigate Gibbs's team that way. The information on Gibbs and his team was easily accessible, but Methos had been through most of it before. What he really wanted now was access to Tanner's folder, which had higher security levels for unknown reasons that made Methos entirely too curious.

He was interrupted in his search when a man came to stand in front of him. Methos looked up into disconcerting blue eyes. They seemed familiar even though he'd never seen the man before. He was sure of it.

"Can I help you?" Methos asked.

"Agent Darby. Jack," the other man said with a smile. There was something about it that set Methos on edge. The weight of his blade in his jacket was a comforting presence, even though he hadn't sensed another Immortal.

"How can I help you, Agent Darby?"

"Jack, please," he insisted. "I haven't seen you around, so I was wondering if you were new, thought you might like someone to show you around."

"FBI, joint investigation."

"Well then, how about coffee and vending machine food, in the interests of interagency co-operation?"

Methos considered the knife at his back and the gun at his side. There was also the rather hefty stapler just to one side of his left hand if all else failed. He wondered where Tony had gone off to, since Lindsey and Dean were at the scene.

"I'm a little busy at the moment," Methos said. "Lives to save and all."

His hand twitched and he fought the urge to jerk back when a gleam of red seemed to appear over Darby's irises for a moment.

"Maybe another time, then."

"Right," Methos said distantly, "sure." He watched until the other man was out of sight and then wondered if Dean had any holy water on him or if he could get that angel of his to bless some.

"That's weird," McGee said, having watched the exchange with interest. "Darby's usually shy."

"I don't think he's quite himself," Methos murmured.

...

"Very Special Agent DiNozzo," Tony said, answering his cell.

"DiNozzo," his boss said, tone halfway between amused and resigned. It was one with which Tony was entirely too familiar.

"At your service."

"Sure you are," AD Crawford said sardonically. Tony grinned. He was extremely lucky that Crawford gave him such latitude. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to do his job or have stuck with the FBI for so long if it had been any different. "I just wanted to warn you."

"About what?"

"What the hell have you managed to get yourself into this time?"

"I don't know what you mean, sir," Tony said with as much innocence as he could muster.

"I'm sure you don't. DiNozzo, you're going to drive me to an early grave."

"Just as long as you don't get back out of it."

"I don't know. Haunting you might just be karma at work."

"Yeah, well, don't blame me when Winchester desecrates your grave and Baines cackles maniacally as he burns your bones."

"What about MacDonald?"

"He'd be keeping an eye out for the police."

"You're probably right."

"There was something you wanted to speak to me about, sir?"

"Yes, of course," Crawford said quickly. "There's some pressure coming down the chain of command to get you off the case."

Tony frowned. He had assumed that Vance would not be too impressed to have Tony involved with NCIS again, even if Gibbs refused to go to him, but he hadn't expected there to be such a significant reaction so quickly.

"Your orders?"

"As if you would follow them."

"Only if they're relevant."

"And you were considering going in that direction anyway."

Tony shrugged even if Crawford couldn't see it. Crawford's chuckle let him know that he'd picked up on it anyway.

"Same orders as always."

"Kick some monster ass?"

"Exactly."

Tony's grin was practically feral. He'd never really had bosses he could rely on to support him completely and having one now was an experience whose novelty never entirely wore off.

"With pleasure, sir."

...

Vin stepped away when he felt his phone vibrate. He could hear voices being raised, but, really, if his team couldn't get on with others they weren't going to go very far and DiNozzo and his team might actually teach them a long overdue lesson.

"Tanner," he greeted.

"Vin," Chris said and Vin found himself smiling. "You doing alright?"

"Fine," he said automatically.

"Vin."

His smile broadened to a grin at just how much Chris could say in one word.

"Chris," he retorted, humour evident in his voice if Chris's snort was anything to go by. "I really miss home," he said finally, smile fading.

"We have made progress," Chris assured him. "JD and Ezra have been working day and night to make sense of the information that program's been sending back. So far, all we've got is an indication of discrepancies in certain files and evidence logs. Hopefully it won't be too much longer for you."

"I did meet an interesting group of FBI agents. They're almost tolerable." He decided not to reveal the supernatural involvement in the case since he'd never broached that topic with the team.

"You going to run away and join the FBI?"

"Think they'd have me?"

"I don't know; you're rather high maintenance."

That startled an incredulous laugh from Vin.

"I'm not Ez."

"That snack drawer of yours does not come cheap."

"Reckon I'll be sticking around then."

"See that you do."

"What next?"

"Just keep on doing what you're doing and keep your head down."

"I'll try," Vin said. It wasn't particularly difficult with Gibbs and the team since they were content to ignore him, but it also meant that he had no protection if Vance started playing politics. He really missed having people he could trust at his back.

...

Dean held his arms loosely at his sides instead of folding them like he wanted to as he faced off with the annoying Israeli woman. It made it easier to punch her. And defend himself if need be. She looked scrappy.

"You have been working for Tony for some time now, have you not?" she asked. She'd been trying to worm information out of Lindsey during the trip back and when that had proved unsuccessful, she'd moved on to him. Dean wished he could set her on Baines and sit back to watch, but Baines was looking a little shaken at the moment and he kept smoothing down the side of his coat where he kept his sword.

"Yeah."

"And how have you found it?" she asked.

"Not sure how that's any of your business."

Something threatening sparked in her eyes and Dean wanted to snarl at her, wanted to shoot her full of rock salt and possibly stake her through her heart, though he'd yet to find something that actually worked against. Maybe she'd be the first.

"So, it has been difficult? Tony is a challenging person."

Dean narrowed his eyes. He'd been trained from the age of four not to rely on anyone, not to trust anyone but Sam and his dad and they were both gone now. Dead or worse. Then Tony had shown up in the middle of a forest, just when Dean was standing over another body and wondering if it was all even worth it, if anything he'd done had actually made a difference, and Tony had offered him a job. Accepting it had been one of the only good decisions Dean had made.

It had been difficult, just not in the way she thought, because Dean didn't know how to work in a team, but then none of them did. Except for Tony and he'd let them get away with a lot more than Dean was sure anyone else would have. He'd allowed them each the space to find out where they fit in the team and how they fit together, which meant a whole lot more to Dean than he'd ever been able to express.

It galled him, because Sam and his father were all he'd had for the longest time, but Tony had given him a second chance. Another family. The team could never take Sam's place, they could never be his true brothers because there wasn't the same history there, but they were something close enough. Brothers-in-arms, if not brothers by blood.

"Whatever history you've got with him, Warrior Princess, is none of my business."

McGee made a choking sound and Baines grinned.

"Her name is Ziva," McGee said, looking a little apprehensive, "not Xena."

"Like I care," Dean said with a shrug.

"He is reckless and immature," she persisted and Dean scowled.

Tony was the best man Dean knew. He'd never let Dean down and there weren't many people Dean could say that about, except possibly Cas. Tony was flawed, certainly, but then everyone on the team was a little broken. Some of them just hid it better. The team worked well because they'd found a way to patch each other's cracks. Dean couldn't say the same for the NCIS team.

"Seems to me, you resemble that remark," he told her. "You don't know who we are or what we're capable of, but you seem to be going out of your way to piss us off."

He'd done things he'd regretted – not done things he regretted even more – but he knew Lindsey and Adam had both gone out of their way to harm people in the past. He doubted she even considered them a real threat because Adam appeared to be the epitome of a tech nerd and Lindsey played a straight-laced lawyer too well.

"If you cannot handle a few innocent questions..."

"Yeah, I'll believe they're innocent when I see Elvis slow-dancing with aliens."

He paused and took a cautious glance around, just to make sure it wasn't going to come into being. Loki – Gabriel – would never have let a challenge like that slide and Dean was sure there were plenty of others like that around too.

"David!" Tony snapped, before turning to Dean. "Winchester." His expression became less severe when he met Dean's gaze and he winked. Dean grinned back. "We have a case to solve."

...

Tony really wished Dean wouldn't tempt fate like that. The things they hunted were bad enough. He really didn't need to image seared into his brain to add to his nightmares.

"Ducky has something," McGee said, finally looking up from where he'd been staring determinedly at his monitor, opening the connection on the big screen.

"Ah, Anthony, Jethro," Ducky greeted and Tony turned to see Gibbs approaching with a large cup of coffee. "Just the men I wanted to see."

"You got something, Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"It's seems to be more a case of what I don't have. Or perhaps more accurately, what I no longer have," Ducky said.

"What's that, Ducky?" Tony asked before Gibbs could let loose the snarl Tony just knew was rumbling beneath the surface.

"Bodies. To be specific, the bodies of the first two victims."

"They're missing?" Tony clarified when it seemed that Gibbs wasn't going to do anything but fume silently.

"Indeed," Ducky conceded. "Abigail is attempting to track down possible leads through the security cameras."

"McGee, go assist her," Gibbs told him. Tony glanced at Baines who raised an eyebrow in question, but Tony shook his head. Baines settled back down. Checking security cameras didn't need more than two people and Tony was sure Baines would have better luck chasing down his own leads. He always did come up with a disturbing amount of information when left to himself.

"Anything else?" Tony asked and Ducky shook his head.

"Not until you return those bodies to me," Ducky said.

"We'll do our best," Tony assured him with a smile at Ducky's absolute confidence in them. Ducky bid them goodbye and Tony turned back to Dean and Lindsey. "What about the scene?"

"Nothing much there, except a mess and her laptop," Lindsey said.

Tony nodded. He'd make sure the team looked over the photographs together later. They each had areas of the supernatural that they were more familiar with and getting them to discuss their individual perspectives often had them eliminating avenues of investigation that might have otherwise pursued, wasting time they often didn't have.

Of all the teams Tony had worked with, in all the precincts and agencies, he didn't think he'd ever encountered one that sniped at each other quite so much, or fitted together quite so well, as the one he was working with now. They were family now, closer even considering Tony's family.

"Give it to Baines," Tony said, glancing at Gibbs who nodded sharply. Since Gibbs had set McGee to looking at the security footage, he couldn't object to Baines without recanting his original order. "What about you, Winchester?"

"Kid couldn't tell me much," he said with a shrug. "Just that a pale lady had hurt the woman next door."

"A pale lady?" Tony asked, mostly to himself as he tried to consider what it might be from what he'd learnt over the last year. They'd definitely benefit from a group discussion. His knowledge was nowhere near as extensive as the others.

"Ziva," Gibbs barked. "Track down the woman and find her accomplice."

"Yes, Boss," she said quickly as she settled in at her desk.

"MacDonald," Tony said. "I'm sure you can find something to keep yourself occupied."

Lindsey nodded, knowing that was as clear as Tony was going to get about spying on Gibbs's team, especially with Gibbs standing right there. Tony caught the way Lindsey glanced at Tanner and he nodded back. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on between the two, but they seemed to have made a connection and Tony felt a bit sorry for Tanner and the difficult position he'd been put in.

"Winchester, you're with me."

With two bodies missing, there would be more to check than just camera footage. Someone must have seen something, even if they thought what they saw made them crazy.

...

"Tanner," Lindsey greeted when he turned the corner to the alcove behind the stairs. Tanner looked tired and worn in a way that meant more than just a night's lost sleep.

"MacDonald."

"We really have to stop meeting like this," Lindsey said with the barest smile. "People will start to talk."

"Could hardly be any worse for my reputation," Tanner said with a shrug. Lindsey knew things hadn't been easy for Tanner stepping into Tony's old team, and he had Lindsey's sympathies, but he seemed resigned to it, which Lindsey thought was depressing. Tanner deserved more.

"Spoken like a man used to being torn down," Lindsey said, watching Tanner's expression carefully. As much as Lindsey had liked Tanner from that first conversation, he hadn't really thought more about getting to him, but this cut just a little too close to his own issues.

"Spoken like a man who knows what that feels like."

They were silent as they reappraised each other.

"So, I was thinking, the disappearance of the bodies means one of two things," Lindsey said. "Either someone's concealing evidence, which seems unlikely since we had the first body for several days before being released to Ducky, or –"

"Or they walked out themselves," Vin said definitively. "Got a friend with the Apache, Chanu. He says that according to the medicine man of his tribe, something powerful is going down."

"Something powerful that rises from the dead? Vampires?"Lindsey asked. "Demons?"

"Ghouls? Zombies?"

"Draugr? Revenants?"

"I think we need something more to go on than animated corpses," Tanner suggested. Lindsey nodded.

"Hey," Lindsey said, with the air of a man unused to expressing sympathy, "are you alright?"

"Fine," Tanner said, more harshly than he intended because he quickly shook his head and smiled wanly. "I'm fine," he repeated. "Just tired. It's been a difficult case."

"Sure," Lindsey conceded, but he had the feeling Tanner meant more than just their current case. He tried to fish for something to say, but came up blank. He finally settled for something Tony had told him after one of his first cases with the team when they'd dealt with a demon going after children that had hit just a little too close to home. "You're not in this alone," Lindsey told him. "There are people who have your back if you'll let them."

Tanner looked taken aback for a moment before he nodded.

"Thanks," Tanner said, voice a little hoarse. Lindsey clapped him on the shoulder, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

"I could use some really bad break room coffee, how about you?"

"Sounds good. I think there might even be some donuts left."

"Bad coffee and stale donuts. I really have turned into a law enforcement parody," Lindsey lamented. "At least I'm not in the basement."

"There might be some bagels instead," Tanner said with a sideward glance and a sly grin.

"Because that's so much better."

...

When his phone rang, Tony left Dean to finish questioning the basement dwellers who dealt with the evidence lockup. They hadn't been able to recall too much as it was, but Tony could tell that from the way they were looking at him that his presence was making them nervous. It seemed Gibbs's displeasure with Tony was contagious and they were afraid they'd catch it, too.

"DiNozzo," he said, answering the call. He stepped around the corner, to get some privacy and leant against the wall.

"Tony," Aaron said, voice warm and smooth. Tony smiled reflexively.

"Hey, how are you and Jack?"

"He misses you," Aaron told him and Tony wished he was there with them, that this case was over and he was back in Quantico, that he was home.

"I miss him, too," Tony said. As much as he'd never have thought it would be true, he really did miss the kid. Jack was one-of-a-kind; the only kid who didn't hate Tony on sight. "I miss you."

"How much longer do you think your case will take?" Aaron asked, voice tightly controlled in that way that meant he was holding in his emotions.

"I don't know. It's getting complicated," Tony said.

"How are you holding up?" Aaron asked softly.

"I..." Tony started, a platitude on the tip of his tongue, before he sighed, sagging against the wall. "I'll be really glad when it's over."

Aaron was silent for a moment and Tony knew he was thinking over his words, as keen to avoid platitudes as Tony was.

"We'll be here when you get back," Aaron said finally and it was the best thing he'd ever heard.

"I love you," Tony blurted out, then flushed when he realised what he'd said. "I miss you."

"I do, too," Aaron said and Tony had no idea to which statement he referred.

"Right," Tony said. "Okay." Aaron's chuckle was low and warm, and Tony felt a shiver thread its way down his spine. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Come home when you can. We'll be here," Aaron repeated and Tony smiled, wide and bright.

"As you wish," he said just before he ended the call.

...

Dean watched as Tony walked away for a moment before he turned back to the two guys they'd been questioning. He drew the knife that was strapped to his thigh and began to pick at his nails. A satisfied smirk curled his mouth when the men swallowed nervously.

"Now, where were we?" Dean asked. Tony's voice was a soft murmur in the background as they stared at him in silence. "I believe you were saying something about not having seen anything. Now would be a good time to rethink that position."

They glanced in the direction Tony had disappeared off to and Dean clenched his jaw to avoid doing something stupid like beat the shit out of them. He didn't care what they were afraid of, whether it was whatever supernatural thing had crawled out of the morgue or whatever had crawled up Gibbs's butt, Tony had nothing to do with it.

"I might have seen something," the second guy said while the first stepped to one side, further away from his colleague. "I mean, I don't know if it was anything, but it might have been something."

"Spit it out," Dean told him, leaning forward threateningly.

"They were pale and barefoot under the lab coats," the guy said. "I don't know, man, they were wrong."

"Wrong how?"

"Just wrong. Like you can't get far enough away," he said with a dramatic shudder. "Like they weren't human, weren't real."

Dean wondered if he was more sensitive than his friend, possibly just a little psychic. Most people who weren't well versed in the supernatural didn't get those sorts of feelings, but Dean was willing to take him at his word.

"You've been a big help," Dean said sarcastically. He flipped his knife before sliding it back into its sheath and feeling inordinately pleased when they flinched. He saw Tony come back around the corner and he grinned at Tony's happy and a little dazed expression. He knew a call from Hotchner when he saw one.

"Come on, DiNozzo, I want one of those donuts before Baines and Tanner finish the lot."

...

Methos watched as Lindsey, Dean and Tanner disappeared into the break room and Tony stood at the big screen. Gibbs eyed him suspiciously.

"Boss," McGee said, picture appearing on the screen.

"What you got, McGee?" Gibbs demanded as he stood to join Tony at the screen.

"The recordings were disrupted at the time the bodies disappeared. We haven't been able to track where the disruption came from," McGee said without looking up to meet Gibbs's eyes. Tony nodded as though he'd expected nothing less and Methos wondered what he'd found out with Dean.

"Is that all you got?" Gibbs snapped.

"We're still working on finding out the connection between the two victims."

"They were having a rather torrid affair," Methos offered. He'd been able to glean that much from their facebook accounts and Amelia Hudson's computer.

"What about spouses?" Gibbs asked.

"I'll look into that," McGee said quickly.

"Hudson was single, but Carver had a fiancée," Methos interrupted with a smug smile. Tony hid a smirk of his own.

"Find her," Gibbs snarled.

"On it, Boss," McGee said.

"Won't help you," Methos said helpfully, ignoring the way Gibbs glared at him.

"Is this really necessary, Baines?" Tony asked with a long-suffering look. Methos' smile widened.

"Oh, yes."

It was always necessary to antagonise arseholes. Which probably explained a lot of Methos' history.

"Very well then, carry on." Tony gestured dismissively with a hand and looked back at the screen and a frustrated McGee.

"Why won't it help?" Gibbs asked, jaw clenched.

"She's dead. Suicide. About three weeks ago."

McGee looked apoplectic. He couldn't really blame McGee, the man was only mortal, after all. From what Methos had been able to gather from the files he'd perused, McGee had spent very little time over the last few years updating his computer skills. Most of his free time had been dedicated to improving himself in the field and writing his derivative novels. Methos, on the other hand, had millennia of practice in the field and experience handling weapons, and he'd been with computers since the very beginning. It didn't take much for him to keep up-to-date with what was going on with technology.

"But her sister's still around and according to her medical aid records, she's stopped seeing her psychiatrist and hasn't filled her latest prescription."

"Looks like we've got a lead," Tony said, expression triumphant and more than a little smug when he turned back to Gibbs. Methos wasn't above rubbing in petty victories, so he leaned back in his chair, hands twined behind his head and rested his feet on the desk. Gibbs looked like he wanted to murder them. Methos smiled.

...

Tony was aware of Lindsey and Tanner hanging back as he and Gibbs took seats in Lydia Reeve's living room. There were pictures of her sister everywhere. From what Lindsey had said, Tanner knew what was going on and Lindsey seemed to like him, seemed to trust him even. Lindsey didn't do that, ever. So, either this Tanner was a good guy or he was the best liar Tony had ever seen. But Tony didn't have to trust Tanner, he just had to trust Lindsey.

Reeve settled in a chair at the window, sunlight washing over her and highlighting the dark circles under her eyes. At least they had confirmation that she wasn't a vampire. At least not one of the more common ones. That still left a long list of things they had to cross off.

He caught his agent's eye and glanced towards the doorway. Lindsey nodded briefly and leaned over to Tanner, murmuring to him. Tanner's sharp gaze cut towards Tony and he nodded as well. They slipped silently out the doorway without alerting Reeve and if Gibbs noticed he gave no sign. Tony was exceptionally glad they were on his side. He'd seen what Lindsey could do, the forces he could wield, and it was incredible. It also meant he felt a lot more comfortable sending them after something supernatural, because they could handle it and Gibbs and his team couldn't. They just weren't equipped.

"Ms Reeve, we need to ask you a few questions," Gibbs said.

"It's about your sister and the circumstances of her death," Tony added.

"What about it?" Reeve asked, looking at them critically, no indication of grief or sadness. There was something disconcerting about her gaze and Tony felt a shiver slide down his spine. He had to agree with Dean about demons and monsters making sense, but people just being crazy.

"Was there anything unusual about it? Was she behaving strangely?" Tony asked.

"Her fiancé was cheating on her and she was planning to commit suicide. What exactly are you looking for?" Reeve asked harshly.

Even Gibbs was looking at him oddly, but he was becoming used to that. He wondered if Baines could get the X-files theme song for his ringtone. Although, he wasn't entirely sure he could trust Baines with that. He'd end up with something horrific in its place. Baines was just twisted enough to use some teen sensation Tony would wish he'd never heard of.

"Any new allergies or sensitivities?" Tony persisted, because this was his life now and carefully phrased questions about sunlight and silver were the norm.

"No," she said, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

"What about her fiancé, James Carver?" Gibbs asked. "What can you tell us about him?"

...

Methos had gone on a coffee run, mostly because McGee kept shooting him glares and it was adorable that he thought it would actually make a difference to Methos, but he was also trying to hack their files, for which Methos had no patience.

"Lynch," Methos said into his phone when the other end of the line picked up.

"That's me."

"NCIS is trying to get into our files. Keep an eye out for any intrusions."

"What do you want me to do if I discover any?" Lynch asked.

"When you find them, I want you to annihilate them."

Methos would have dealt with it himself, but he was actually working on the case, even if he liked to pretend otherwise. It wouldn't do to let the other team get ahead of them, partly because trying to handle a supernatural case without knowing what was going on would only end in death. Mostly because he just really liked rubbing their inadequacies in their faces.

"Always a pleasure," Lynch said with satisfaction before he hung up the phone.

Methos slid his phone into his pocket and stepped forward in the queue. Someone pressed in too close behind him and the hair on the back of his neck rose.

"Agent Baines," a voice said, a hint of something ominous in his tone as warm breath brushed Methos' ear. Methos tensed, hand going to the gun at the holster on his belt before he was even conscious of the movement.

"Agent Darby," he replied, turning to look at the man. Darby's bright blue eyes crinkled with wry amusement and Methos frowned, unaccountably reminded of another set of blue eyes that used to look at him that way, so very long ago.

"It's been a long time, brother," the other man said and Methos' felt his knees goes weak before he locked them, holding his ground.

"Kronos."

"In the flesh," Kronos said with a wicked smile. "So to speak."

Kronos slid an arm around his shoulders and led him out of the coffee shop and around the corner to a quiet street where they had some privacy. Methos kept his silence and co-operated because Kronos would attack innocent people if he didn't and because Methos needed to know what he was here for, what he wanted. If it had just been revenge, Kronos wouldn't have bothered to approach him before. He would have taken him unaware, like last time.

"It's good to see you, brother," Kronos said, crowding Methos against a wall. The cold stone made the skin of his back burn, even through the layers of his clothing.

"I can't say the feeling's mutual."

"Come now, brother," Kronos said, gripping Methos' shoulder a little too tightly, thumb digging into the flesh above his clavicle. His eyes flashed red and Methos knew what he was, knew his deepest fears had been realised. "The past is in the past."

"What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted."

"The world?" Methos asked, tone heavy with sarcasm.

"I clawed my way out of hell, I fought more demons than I can count, to reach the gateway and my search had only just begun, because you, my brother, had moved on again," Kronos said, leaning in close so that Methos could feel Kronos' breath on his face. "I do prefer the company you keep these days."

"Kronos, why are you here? How?"

"You can thank that helpful little friend of yours."

Methos raised an eyebrow.

"The angry, anguished one," Kronos added.

Methos rolled his eyes.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific," he said dryly. Humour brightened the blue of Kronos' eyes.

"That little hunter of yours opened the gateway for me."

Kronos grinned, all teeth, and Methos felt a shiver run down his spine. He hated that he didn't know if it was fear or pleasure or both.

"He's not my hunter," Methos said.

"Yes," Kronos said, "I heard all about his angel. I heard a few things about you, too, during my trip downstairs."

"Demons lie."

"So do you."

"Then it doesn't matter what I say."

"I always listen to you, brother. I just know better than to believe you."

"What do you want from me?" Methos asked, weary beyond the telling as he sagged against the wall.

"What I've always wanted," Kronos repeated crowding Methos and pressing him back against the wall. Methos' breath hitched. "I'll give you some time to think about it," he said and then he was gone. Methos ran a shaky hand through his hair and concentrated on breathing steadily.

...

Vin and Lindsey moved steadily throughout the house, looking briefly in each of the rooms but finding nothing suspicious. Lindsey looked out the kitchen window while Vin kept an eye on the passage leading to the living room.

"There's a cellar," Lindsey said, jerking his head in the direction of the back door.

"Sounds like a good place to finish," Vin said dryly.

"Always the last place you look," Lindsey said with a smirk. Vin rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he said. "I don't know how long they'll keep her occupied."

"Maybe she'll go nuts and take a swipe at Gibbs," Lindsey suggested, just a little overly keen at the idea. Vin kept silent on the issue but he looked as though he wouldn't mind too much either. Lindsey smirked at him as they went out into the garden.

"I don't suppose you spent a delinquent adolescence learning how to pick locks?" he asked. He'd learned a lot of things, but lock-picking was usually left to one of the other team members who were all well practiced at it. Vin snorted.

"How did you know?" he asked with a grin as he sank to the ground to work on the lock.

"I'm familiar with the type," Lindsey said deprecatingly.

He thought of Dean, who, despite his long and sordid history of criminal charges, was one of the best men he knew. Adam knew more underhanded ways of doing things than Lindsey, who used to work for a demonic law firm. Lindsey himself had done his fair share of awful things.

After Hell, or at least the Senior Partners, had spat him back out, he'd clawed himself back to something approaching a reasonable man. It was only because of Tony and his ridiculous idea of bringing them all together for his team that really shouldn't have worked but somehow did, that Lindsey realised what it could have been like, maybe even should have been like. Tony was a good man and he'd seen something in Lindsey worth investing in, worth taking time and care over, and that was a first for Lindsey. It was usually one or the other.

He'd been Wolfram and Hart's golden boy. They'd invested plenty in him; both time and money. He'd thought that might have meant something, but it hadn't in the end, none of it had meant anything. Not to them and not to him. He'd wanted something else, something more, but Angel, who Lindsey had initially respected as much as he'd detested him, hadn't seen anything in him worth taking a second look at.

Angel had given second chances to everyone who'd stood still long enough to listen to one of his speeches. Murderers, betrayers, those who were just as bad as Lindsey in their own ways, all got the Angel treatment. All except for him. Whatever respect and admiration he'd had for Angel had turned to hatred then. No matter what he'd risked, it had never been enough.

He'd thought if Angel couldn't see any good in him, there wasn't any good to be seen, because Angel was a Champion and that was supposed to mean something. Then Angel had sold out and Lindsey had wanted to destroy him, to show him that he was just as weak and broken as the rest of them were, as Lindsey was. It hadn't exactly ended well, even if he had proved Angel wasn't any better than him. Maybe that had been the problem all along; they were too similar.

"We're in," Vin said, swinging the door open. The stairs descended into still darkness and they glanced briefly at each other before drawing their weapons. Lindsey's gun was loaded with silver bullets and Vin had a knife that looked to be silver, too, though it was coated in a dark red substance.

"Dead man's blood?" he asked. Vin nodded.

"Ready?"

"Never," Lindsey said with a grin. Vin echoed it as they made their way slowly down the stairs. The cellar was dark, but clean and tidy from what he could see in the gloom. Just inside the entry, there were piles of boxes with various designations on them, but further in there is was a bed. On the bed, a woman sat, arms curled around her knees.

"Tess Reeve?" Lindsey asked and she looked up with eyes bright in a pale and gaunt face. She unwound in smooth, fluid movements and slipped off the bed. That didn't help narrow down what she might be by much. Somehow, most of the supernatural world always seemed preternaturally fast and strong.

"Why are you here?" she asked, stalking forward.

"We were looking for your fiancé," Lindsey said.

He and Vin stepped away from each other, splitting her focus between them.

"He is nothing," she said.

"And what are you?" Lindsey asked, half-aware of Vin as he edged around her. The other man was silent and the shadows seemed to embrace him in ways that weren't entirely natural, but Lindsey had already suspected as much. Lindsey's grip was steady as he aimed his gun at her head.

"Powerful," she said as she lunged at Lindsey. He managed to get a shot off, grazing her temple but otherwise leaving her unharmed, before she was on him. He fell back with a grunt, landing painfully as his head knocked into the concrete. The gun went skittering away and he activated the mechanism for the knife at his wrist – the designs shamelessly stolen from Wyndam-Pryce – and plunged it into her stomach. She didn't even seem to notice as she wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed. Her fingers were like iron bars wrapped around his neck, growing more and more constricting.

There was a roar in his ears that might have been his blood but then, suddenly, she was gone from him and Vin was standing over him and pulling him to his feet. He placed himself between them while Lindsey tried to get his breath back.

Despite himself, Lindsey categorised what he knew; speed and strength, certainly, but the way he'd blended with the shadows was new. Lindsey had never seen that before, not even with Angel. There were still too many unknown variables, too many options.

Vin leapt at the woman, knife at the ready. She fought fiercely, but she was outmatched, relying on her superior strength, but Vin's own strength was a match for it and he had more experience. His knife sliced across her abdomen and into her shoulder before she managed to throw him. She snarled at them both and then turned to flee.

Lindsey went for his gun, firing at her as she ran from the cellar. At least one shot impacted as blood sprayed, but it didn't slow her down at all. Vin chased after her, but less than five minutes later returned with a shake of his head.

"I lost her two houses down," he said. Lindsey nodded. He hadn't held out too much hope.

"It's her terrain," he replied. "We'll find her again."

"And in the meantime, research."

Vin didn't look pleased and Lindsey laughed. Dean wasn't too fond of research either, for reasons Lindsey could guess at considering how much he downplayed his intelligence.

"Baines can do miracles with a search engine and I'm not too bad with the books," Lindsey told him. "We're close now."

"A little too close," Vin said, looking at the bruises that were starting to darken on Lindsey's neck.

"Tony's going to kill me," Lindsey lamented. "And then he's going to mother-hen me to death."

...

Dean watched as Lindsey and Tony filed into the conference room, Baines following a moment later with a round of coffee for everyone. Baines looked a little pallid, stretched thin somehow, but slid on a smirk in that effortless, and a little bit terrifying, way he sometimes changed emotions, sometimes entire personalities it seemed, faster than Dean could blink. It was a curious alternative to Cas, who never seemed to change at all. They both equally freaked him out sometimes.

There were also dark bruises winding around Lindsey's neck, so he wasn't too surprised when the first thing Tony did was order Baines to check him over. Dean knew Baines was older than 50 or so years, because he knew more than a single lifetime's worth of experience and there was something weird about the way Baines determinedly avoided any contact with Castiel. That never meant good things, but he'd proven trustworthy in other ways. All that meant was that he wasn't too surprised when Baines had first pulled out medical know-how in addition to all his other skills. It came in quite handy. Finally, Lindsey rolled his eyes and slapped Adam's hands away, growing annoyed with the prodding.

"I'm fine," he insisted as he took a seat at the conference table. Adam settled opposite him without his usual scoffing about mortal fragility that really meant he might have been worried.

"Tanner and I ran into Tess Reeve. Whatever she is, she wasn't affected by sunlight, silver or dead man's blood," Lindsey told them, wrapping his hands around one of the cardboard cups, though he didn't drink from it.

Tony spread out the files from the case in front of them – they were all more comfortable looking over the hardcopies – and they began the long process of reviewing and analysing what they'd received so far.

"So, not a vampire or a ghoul, then," Adam said.

"That still leaves a lot of options open," Tony told him.

"Too many," Lindsey said, fingers trailing over the bruise at his throat. "She was strong, too."

"Where's this from?" Dean demanded, looking at a picture of a dishevelled living room. He searched through the pictures for similar images.

"Amelia Hudson's apartment," Lindsey said. "I think the organisms in her sink where almost capable of rational thought."

Dean singled out an image with the dead fish in it and searched for any other information on the other scenes.

"Where there any dead things at the Reeve house?" he asked, pulling together several images from different scenes. Lindsey shrugged then shook his head.

"I think there might have been a dead pot plant in the corner of the living room," Tony said, frowning.

"Zombies," Dean said. "I hate zombies."

"What kind?" Lindsey asked and Dean was sure Lindsey could think of half a dozen ways to create them just off the top of his head. Dean shook his head.

"Decapitation tends to be the universal cure-all," Adam suggested, hand resting in his coat, close to his sword. He was definitely more on edge than usual to give in to a need for comfort like that.

"Zombies have to be raised, right?" Tony asked.

"Lydia Reeve seems like the most obvious candidate," Adam said.

"So we arrest her and put some pressure on her until she tells us what we want to know," Lindsey said, grin just a little feral.

...

Tony was already worrying about the state of his team, about Lindsey's bruises and Adam's agitation, and whether coming back to Washington had been a good idea at all, when the door slammed open and Abby stood there in all her gothic glory.

"How could you?" she demanded and Tony barely withheld a sigh. He adored Abby, he really did, but sometimes he had a hard time following her logic or her moods.

"Care to elaborate?" Adam asked, slowly rising from his slouch to sit up straight, giving him easier access to his weapons and a better reach if it came to it. As much as Tony didn't really like the idea of anyone hurting Abby, he did appreciate the instinctive move to defend him.

"Timmy's in paroxysms because of you!" she said jabbing a finger into Tony's chest. "And you!" she added, turning to point at Adam.

Tony studiously tried to ignore Adam's careless shrug, Lindsey's smirk and Dean's thumbs up to Adam. If he hadn't brought this on himself by picking his team, he'd be demanding a raise from Crawford.

"Abby," Tony began, tone soft and placating, before Adam's voice cut across his.

"It's his own fault," Adam said dismissively in that tone that Tony was only mostly sure Adam didn't mean to sound so arrogant.

"You humiliated him," she said, turning to glare at Adam. Tony wasn't entirely sure who'd win in that fight, but he'd put cautious money on Adam who could be a lot more ruthless than his laidback, easy-going temperament implied. "In front of Gibbs!"

Tony very carefully hid a smile at that.

"He shouldn't boast about skills he doesn't maintain," Adam said.

"And Gibbs should know what to expect from the people he's working with," Dean told her.

"If he doesn't have the knowledge to predict that, then he should listen to advice," Lindsey added. "It's not our fault if he can't do either."

Tony heaved a sigh and dropped his head into a hand, waiting for Abby's blowout at having Gibbs and his methods disrespected. Instead, he felt her arms wrap tightly around him and he opened his eyes to see her grinning up at him.

"I'm so happy for you," she said, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. He frowned, thoroughly confused. "They really love you," she whispered, giving him a quick squeeze before releasing him entirely.

Despite the embarrassment that threatened to colour his cheeks, Tony felt warmth infuse him at the idea that what he thought and felt about his place with the team he'd assembled was obvious to others as well. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Who's up for kicking some zombie ass," Dean said, rising to his feet, clearly uncomfortable with how 'chick flick' it was becoming.

"Vodou, Romero, or Umbrella Corporation?" Abby asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"We're not sure," Tony said slowly, feeling like he'd lost track of the thread of the conversation somewhere along the way.

"But due to the intelligence, strength and speed they exhibit, I'd guess some sort of dark magic ritual," Lindsey volunteered while they all watched Abby closely, gauging her reaction.

"That is so cool," she said, though her eyes flickered to the bruises around Lindsey's neck. "Well, not that," she said with a vague gesture. "I'll go research," she added, bouncing once more. Tony found himself once again wrapped up in her arms. She had surprising presence for being so slight. She turned to face the others, pulling on her most intimidating expression.

"If you let Tony get hurt, I will hunt you down and make you hurt, too," she told them before turning and leaving the room.

"She looks like a handful," Dean said, mouth pulled into a half-grin, half-leer. Tony was never entirely sure what was going on with Dean and his friend, Cas, so he simply shook his head.

"She'd eat you alive."

Dean hesitated and Tony was sure he was wondering whether to take that literally or figuratively. It was a lesson Tony was having to learn himself, because the kind of life he lived these days meant the distinction wasn't always clear.

"It might be fun while it lasted," Dean told him, grin firmly re-established.

"You'd have to ask McGee," Tony told him and Dean grimaced.

"A woman like that is wasted on a guy like him," he lamented.

"A woman like that is never wasted," Adam said finally, rising to his feet. He looked worn in ways Tony had never seen him and, as Lindsey and Dean filed out of the room, Tony rested a hand on Adam's shoulder, holding him back.

"I want you to go back to the hotel and get some rest while we check the Reeve house," Tony said.

"I'm fine," Adam insisted and Tony just barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Sure, and you'll be more fine after you go get some rest."

Adam folded his arms and Tony knew he probably resented being singled out, but he'd been taking this case, being in DC, whatever was going on with him, harder than the others.

"We're going to have a few hours before we need your computer access again, and I want you well-rested before you have to run interference with Gibbs and McGee," Tony said, hoping to soften the blow at least a little. Adam's eyes narrowed, clearly not believing him for a second, but he nodded firmly and ducked out of Tony's grip.

...

Vin glanced at Gibbs and the rest of the team when his second, secure phone rang. None of them were watching him, so he ducked to the space behind the stairs and answered.

"Tanner."

"You sound tired," Chris said and Vin felt the tension that had coiled tightly inside him since the attack loosen and unwind.

"Just frustrated," he replied.

"Thought you could handle Gibbs," Chris said, humour colouring his voice so that Vin could see Chris's amused smirk clearly in his mind.

"Gibbs is a pussy cat," Vin said, grinning at the thought of Gibbs's reaction to that. "He's got claws, but he tends to back down if you're firm."

Chris chuckled.

"That's not what his reputation says."

Vin shrugged and leaned against the wall, feeling at ease enough to do so. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back in Denver.

"Everything else alright?" Chris asked and Vin sighed.

"The case got complicated."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Vin knew Chris was asking for whatever details Vin could give him, but Vin had never really brought up the idea of the supernatural with his team and it wasn't really something he wanted to do over the phone. He had the feeling that it wasn't something he could avoid for too much longer, anyway.

"You got any new information?" Vin asked instead.

"More than we thought we'd get," Chris told him. "Looks like at the very least, the previous Director and Gibbs were into some shady deals. We've managed to trace most of the discrepancies in the reports and logs to them, though some of the more significant ones are still outstanding."

"What about DiNozzo?" Vin asked, because he liked the man, respected Lindsey who seemed to have nothing but admiration for him, and Vin hated to think that he'd be involved in tearing his team apart.

"Looks like he's in the clear. His record at the FBI is clean, if a little bizarre."

Vin breathed a sigh of relief.

"What does all that mean?" he asked, for the case, for NCIS, for him.

"Looks like it might go all the way up to the SecNav."

"That's just about above our pay grade."

"We're keeping Travis up-to-date as well."

"Good," he said, glad that Orin was involved.

Orin Travis was one of the few bosses that Vin had had who understood what it was like to be out in the field and listened to the concerns of his men. It was part of the reason Vin had stuck around for so long. A large part was also that he implicitly trusted the team at his back, which was why it was so difficult to be part of a team, however temporarily, that he didn't trust, couldn't trust, because he didn't know what they might be involved in.

"It won't be too long now," Chris assured him and Vin found himself smiling.

"You my personal cheerleader now?"

"I'll break out the pom-poms when you get back," Chris said dryly. Vin laughed.

"I'll hold you to that," Vin told him and ended the call before Chris could reply.

...

Tony let Lindsey take the lead as they swept through the Reeve household since he was most familiar with the layout. Dean took up the rear, muttering to himself about zombies and dead things. From the disarray in her bedroom, it was obvious Lydia Reeve had cleared out, though, and that Tess Reeve had likely not returned.

"Looks like there was an altar here," Lindsey said, indicating a wardrobe in a corner of the room.

"Nothing says devil-worshipper quite like black candles and symbols in blood," Dean agreed.

"What does this mean for us?" Tony asked, looking over what was on the altar, but a lot of it didn't make much sense. From the Spanish and Italian he knew, he could make out some of the Latin, but it didn't really make much sense out of context. Looked as if that was another thing he'd have to put on his list of things he still needed to catch up. Despite having worked with his team for months, it always seemed as if he never really made any headway in catching up, but then the others had years, even decades, on him.

"That Lydia Reeve raised her sister and sent her after the other two, then raised them as well," Lindsey said. "And we can't stop them by destroying the altar."

"Which means this is going to get really messy," Dean added, grinning perhaps incongruently for anyone who didn't know him.

"Time to tell the others?" Lindsey asked, clearly dubious about the whole idea. Tony considered it a moment and shook his head.

"We have no proof and, without it, they won't believe us," Tony said. "It's their lives if they go in unprepared."

Dean snorted in reaction to that and Lindsey shrugged.

"I'm not seeing a problem," Lindsey told him, expression markedly neutral. Tony rolled his eyes, aware that they were mostly joking. Or at least hoping it.

"They'll believe when one of the zombies tries to tear out their throats," Dean added, unconcerned.

"The idea is to minimise casualties," Tony told them.

"We're simply being expedient," Lindsey said, straightening his suit and brushing at the lapels of his jacket. "It'll save us having to deal with them."

"I was looking forward to it," Dean said, with what none of them would ever call, for their own safety, a pout.

Tony sighed, decidedly put-upon.

...

Methos was just pulling into the hotel parking lot, determined to get at least a shower and a few hours of sleep before he continued working on the case. He needed some time alone, to catch his breath and figure out what he was going to do. Running was a temptation, but Kronos had access to even more resources now than he had before and Methos wouldn't have the benefit of sensing him coming. Besides, Methos actually liked his team and the work they did.

It had started as a way of finding out what the various agencies knew about Immortals and other supernatural beings, of trying to control how that information was discovered and put to use, but it was more than that now. They team was important to him, now. Not quite brothers, not like before. Tony was no Kronos, and Lindsey and Dean were definitely no Caspian and Silas. Methos wanted, more than he dared articulate, that feeling of brotherhood again, of belonging to a people.

All his thinking meant that he was distracted when something solid ploughed into him, knocking him off his feet so that he landed with bruising impact on the concrete. There was a growl in his ear that was barely human and an overwhelming smell of death and decay before he managed to shrug off his attacker and roll to his feet.

The woman he faced looked very much like the dead Amelia Hudson. In fact, she looked even worse than the photographs that'd taken in the morgue before her corpse got up and walked away. It certainly wasn't the almost living version of Tess Reeve.

Methos managed to pull his gun and get two shots off, both to the head, before she was on him again, with no regard for her injuries. So much for that theory, he thought as he wrestled with her and tried to reach for his sword at the same time. Like he'd said, decapitation solved a lot of problems.

"Looks like you could use a hand," Kronos said and, from the corner of his eye, Methos glanced him casually leaning against the wall, watching.

"I don't need your help," Methos insisted, finally getting his sword free and swinging a little wildly at Hudson.

"You sure about that?" Kronos asked when she got in a particularly good hit, knocking the sword from Methos' grasp. "You're looking a little out of practice."

"She's stronger than she looks," Methos said, knocking her in the face with an elbow and forcing her away from him just long enough to rise to his feet. Unfortunately, she was still between him and his sword.

Kronos strolled forward and picked up the sword, inspecting it, then tested its weight and balance and gave it a few practice swings.

"A good, solid sword," he said, conversationally. "Very understated."

Methos preferred plain, unadorned broadswords, which was entirely opposite to the curbed and barbed, often ornamented swords that Kronos used to prefer. Of course, he no longer needed a sword at all now.

"Yes, yes," Methos said, ducking away as she lunged at him again. "Save me, Kronos, you're my only hope," he said, dryly.

It was clear that Kronos didn't get the reference, though he did catch the sarcasm. Still, he moved forward purposefully, sword raised. Kronos matched her for strength, so the rest of fight was short lived and then Kronos was slicing through her neck with minimal, efficient movements, so different to MacLeod's style of fighting. Even with her head separated, the eyes continued to blink and the limbs continued to twitch, but she was no longer a real threat.

"I saved your life," Kronos said, stepping in close and invading Methos' space in that way that was a mark of claim clearer than most other forms. "According to some, that means I'm responsible for it now." Kronos' smile was wide and pointed.

"I orchestrated your death," Methos replied, hating the way he had to concentrate on not yielding to Kronos' presence, to the connection they'd once had. "I think that means we're even."

Kronos pressed his forehead to Methos' and reached up to clasp the back of his head to hold him in place. Not that Methos really attempted to escape his hold, even when Kronos' fingers dug into his scalp and pulled at his hair.

"We'll never be even," he said, their breath mingling. Methos wondered at the fact that it wasn't despair he was feeling at the prospect.

"You're going to be the Death of me," Methos murmured. Kronos' grin in response to that was all teeth and sharp edges.

"I'll take care of the body," he said. Methos nodded, but didn't step away even when Kronos released him. "Go, get cleaned up," Kronos insisted.

Methos knew he had to, that Kronos would deal with the body before anyone noticed because he'd said he would and whatever else he'd done, he'd never broken his word to Methos. He'd have to head back to the Yard afterwards and report what he'd seen, or at least an edited version, but until then Kronos would keep watch.

...

Tony was worried. Not only had the Reeve sisters entirely disappeared, but Adam was away from the Yard and entirely without backup. Adam had answered the quick call Tony had made and said he was on his way back, but something hadn't been right about his tone and he'd been off-kilter for days. As much as the team had been keeping an eye on Tony, despite the fact he didn't need it, they had also been keeping an eye on Adam. It was a little more difficult with Adam, though, because they didn't really know what was going on with him. All this meant he wasn't all that impressed when Gibbs ducked into the elevator with him and pressed the emergency stop.

"Something I can help you with?" Tony asked as mildly as possible, though he was intently aware of the way his jaw clenched and his teeth gritted together.

"Your team is irresponsible," Gibbs told him.

"Immature and reckless on occasion, certainly," Tony conceded with a nod followed by an indifferent shrug. "But they're not irresponsible."

He'd thought Gibbs understood that about him and, by extension, agents like his. However they acted, they got the job done quickly and efficiently. Certainly quicker and more efficiently than Gibbs's team. And they did it without undercutting each other, which was a difference Tony could really appreciate.

Tony pressed the emergency stop button and the elevator started with a jerk again. He blocked access to the panel when Gibbs moved to press it again.

"You can blame my team as much as you like, they can handle it, but it's not going to change the fact that you create a toxic work atmosphere," Tony said, feeling a little giddy and light-headed at the long withheld confession. "You play your agents off against each other and, while that might sometimes be useful, you don't exercise any control or limitation on the situation and it gets out of hand. You expect your agents to trust each other, but you don't foster an atmosphere of trust, and all it results in is feelings of resentment and insecurity."

"You think you've got all the answers now?" Gibbs demanded, expression thunderous. He looked like he was going to continue, but Tony was revelling in the ability to say finally all the things that had been weighing on him for so long.

"I've got a good team now. They might all be arrogant, belligerent, pains in the ass, but we trust each other with our lives, and that's all that matters," Tony said, grinning wide.

"If you couldn't handle it here, then I'm glad you left," Gibbs told him, advancing forward just as the doors slid open.

"We're in agreement then," Tony said, stepping back and out of the elevator. He turned and put Gibbs entirely out of his mind as he caught sight of his team, with Dean and Lindsey flanking Adam.

...

Lindsey watched as Tony stalked away from Gibbs, towards them, grin a little manic. Tony pulled up short when his phone rang and moved to one side, where he could have a modicum of privacy. Adam stepped forward when Gibbs looked like he was going to continue whatever he'd begun in the elevator. Lindsey and Dean flanked Adam, letting Gibbs's glare slide harmlessly off them.

"I'm having a very bad day," Adam said, voice light but somehow full of threat and promise in that way only he seemed to manage. "I invite you to try my patience."

Gibbs's glare intensified for a moment, but Lindsey had always appreciated Adam's ability to remain eerily calm under any sort of pressure. It spoke of far more experience than he claimed, but they all had their secrets and their raw vulnerabilities. Learning to work together had been a process of realising when to push and when to let go. It wasn't something Lindsey had learned easily or quickly when everything in his life until now had been about pushing to get what he wanted, even if that meant pushing over other people.

"Yes sir," Lindsey heard Tony say and knew he was speaking to Crawford. Lindsey himself generally avoided the man. He hadn't had too much luck with authority and while he trusted Tony and the team, that didn't extend to the rest of the FBI. "Are you sure, sir?" Tony continued.

"Vance wants to see you," Vin told Gibbs as he approached, eyes darting between him and the FBI team. Lindsey nodded at him briefly and Vin nodded back. They both ignored the way Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the group before he strode away.

"I think I know where the directive originated," Tony said, glancing up at Vance's office and Lindsey looked to Adam who was already pulling out his pad and going to work on it. What he did on it, Lindsey would never understand, but he always managed to come up with something.

"And there's no other option?" Tony asked. There was a long pause. "I understand, sir."

Tony snapped his phone shut and sighed deeply in a way that had nothing to do with trying to hide his amusement at his team.

"Crawford says we're off the case," Tony told them, mouth set in a firm line. Lindsey realised then that Tony had no potential solution to the problem. Lindsey immediately sought Dean's gaze and he nodded shortly in response. They had no allegiance to the FBI. Adam, he was sure, would feel the same. They'd go rogue if they had to, but Lindsey rather hoped they wouldn't have to put Tony in that position. Tony believed in the system, believed in the law and what he thought it could do. Unlike the rest of them who only believed in Tony himself. It would destroy what little faith Tony had left to end up caught outside the system he fought so hard to maintain.

"Don't pack just yet," Vin said softly, reluctantly.

"What do you mean?" Lindsey asked, stepping closer to the other agent when it became clear he didn't want to be overheard by anyone, even Lindsey's team.

"We both know that Gibbs and his team have no hope of solving this case on their own," Vin said, looking pale and anxious. "I can make sure your team is still on the case."

"But it might put you in a vulnerable position?" Lindsey asked, his critical mind trying to make the connections when he didn't have all the pieces. Vin nodded.

"You will have our support," Lindsey said, for the first time really meaning it for someone other than his team. "Whatever you need."

"A place to hide when all this is over might be good," Vin said with a crooked smile.

"Winchester knows all the best places," Lindsey assured him.

"Alright then," Vin said with the air of a man walking to his end and Lindsey wondered if this was a good idea.

"We can find another way," Lindsey offered, surprised at himself.

"If you had another way it wouldn't have come to this," Vin said, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders. Vin gave him a nod that Lindsey returned before he turned and left.

...

Vin kept his chin up and his shoulders squared as he entered the office. No matter anything else, he had to remember that his actions were about saving lives, not pride or fear or anything else he was feeling. The woman at the desk looked up at him, expression disinterestedly polite.

"Tell him Agent Vin Tanner is here about his son," he said, surprised that his voice sounded so steady and sure. She hesitated, but he held her gaze and she slowly picked up the phone.

"Deputy Director Fitzgerald," she said into the mouthpiece, "there's an Agent Tanner here with regards to Agent Fitzgerald."

Vin couldn't quite hide the way his entire body twitched at that name and she raised an eyebrow but she rose smoothly and gestured him forward, toward the doors just beyond her desk.

"Deputy Director Fitzgerald will see you now," she told him, opening one side of the double doors and indicating for him to enter. Vin swallowed, once, before stepping across the threshold.

His first glimpse of Victor Fitzgerald was engineered, he was sure, to be imposing. Fitzgerald sat in a large chair behind an equally large, ornate desk, with the light of the window filtering in behind him. It did nothing to engender any sort of kind-hearted feelings in Vin and his resolve solidified.

"Agent Tanner," he said, voice cold and remote and without any kind of familiarity. That this man was his father, had convinced his mother he loved her, Vin would never understand.

"Deputy Director," Vin replied.

"How can I help you?"

"I think you've got an inkling about my reasons," Vin said, realising he was standing at parade rest without consciously thinking about it. He deliberately shifted his stance to something more casual.

"Director Vance contacted me with some concerns," Fitzgerald said with only the briefest flash of disgust across his face illuminating his true feelings toward the man.

"I'm sure he had more than a few and I'm sure part of that conversation involved me."

There was another flash of emotion, anger and something else, but it was gone quickly. Vin assumed that you didn't get to be Deputy Director without having an excellent poker face. It made him worry a little about what Ezra's aspirations might be. He just hoped all those card games with Ezra had taught him something.

"I'm sure you understand that conversations between Directors, even Deputy Directors, are privileged."

"Then I assume Vance did hire me because he thought he could use my status as your bastard son against you," Vin said, keeping his expression as clear of any emotion as possible. He'd known that going in, that was what he'd bargained on in getting the position. Vance didn't seem above taking advantage of a little blackmail material and an advantage over a possible rival. It was either that or send in JD, who was the kind of agent Vance approved of, and there was no way JD would have survived Gibbs.

"You are aware of it, then," Fitzgerald said without surprise. Vin's smile in response to that was tight and unyielding.

"Got the certificate and everything," Vin told him.

"What do you want?" Fitzgerald asked, eyes narrowing critically.

"DiNozzo and his team back on the case."

"I can't do that," Fitzgerald said immediately. Vin frowned, sure from Fitzgerald's tense posture that it was more than just a matter of Fitzgerald not wanting to because it was Vin asking.

"Vance is threatening to expose our relationship."

"Yes," Fitzgerald said, the word ground out like the act of speaking it was a struggle.

Vin considered his options for a moment, considered the lives Reeve threatened and what the case he was working on might expose.

"I can give you something," Vin told him, "something that Vance would not want made public."

"And in exchange you want Agent DiNozzo and his team on the case," Fitzgerald said. It wasn't a question but Vin nodded.

"There is a condition," Vin said. Fitzgerald stared at him impassively for a moment before nodding. "If you do make this information public I won't hesitate to release the information about your indiscretions."

"Very well," Fitzgerald said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him and leaning forward.

"For a while now my team has been collecting information on NCIS and its leaders," Vin began.

...

Tony was contemplating taking a vacation that would just happen to be in DC and just happen to involve sightseeing in various spots where they suspected the Reeve sisters might be hiding. Lindsey looked unaccountably worried, too, and Tony was sure it had something to do with Tanner, who had disappeared after his quiet conversation with Lindsey. Tony phone rang and he was surprised to see it was Crawford again.

"Calling to tell us we're fired, sir?" Tony asked, a little more wryly than he intended.

"The opposite actually," Crawford said, sounding as surprised as Tony now felt.

"What?" Tony asked. "Sir? What?"

"You're back on the case," Crawford told him.

"Thank you, sir."

"I'd be grateful, but I didn't do anything. I thought maybe you had. Whatever pressure was on the higher ups seems to have evaporated," Crawford said. Tony looked toward Lindsey only to see him paying Tony and his conversation equal attention.

"I'll inform you when we have new information on the case," Tony told him, which Crawford acknowledged before he ended the call. Tony then turned to Lindsey. "I take it Tanner had something to do with this?"

Lindsey tried to paste on a curious expression and utterly failed. Tony knew he hadn't really been trying all that hard or the attempt wouldn't have been quite that pathetic.

"I believe so. He said there might be something he could do, but it was going to put him in a vulnerable position," Lindsey said. Tony nodded, already considering what they might be able to do to run interference and keep Vin out of trouble. He'd gone to bat for them and they owed him.

"Baines, keep an eye on that," Tony said, not bothering to check that Adam was up-to-date with the situation.

"Sure thing," Adam said automatically without looking up from his computer. Adam was always up-to-date with everything. He was the scariest, most efficient font of information Tony had ever known, in an exceptionally unassuming package.

"There's something you need to know," Adam said, pausing in his typing and looking up at Tony before his gaze move to include Lindsey and Dean. The other two moved forward, closing ranks.

"I encountered Amelia Hudson at the hotel. She's dealt with. Decapitation works adequately, even if it doesn't entirely stop them, but I don't think she was the same kind as Tess Reeve," Adam said as tonelessly as any other report he might deliver.

"You alright?" Tony asked, not bothering to complain that it had taken him so long to relay this information. There hadn't really been opportunity before.

"Fine," Adam said, that strange look of anxiety and pained longing crossing his face. "She didn't do me any harm."

Which didn't mean anything because there was more going on that had nothing to do with the case. But Adam was looking at him with cool and distant eyes and a stubborn jaw, so Tony knew better than to push too hard. Sometimes there was something entirely unnatural about Adam and Tony wished he knew if it was true of all Immortals or just this one. He wished he knew better what to expect from this brave new world of his.

"You got anything new?" Tony asked.

"Possibly," Adam said slowly, starting to tap at his keyboard again. "I've been looking through the Reeves records, for property or locations that might mean something to them, but it's still an extensive list."

"Try and narrow it down as much as possible," Tony told him and Adam nodded.

...

Lindsey made sure to meet Vin downstairs before he bumped into either Gibbs or Vance, both of whom were on a rampage, though Vance's was slightly more polite though no less devastating. Gibbs could be blamed on Tony, if Tony smug attitude was anything to go by, but Lindsey was more inclined to blame Vance on whatever Vin had done to put the team back on the case.

"Vin," Lindsey said, pulling the man into the seldom used stairwell as soon as he was through security. He looked a little stunned, but otherwise like a long-shouldered burden had finally been lifted.

"It's done?" Vin asked.

"It's done," Lindsey assured him and Vin nodded, smile shaky with relief.

"You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Vin said and seemed surprised by his answer. His smile grew stronger. "It's kind of a relief, really, not to have it hanging over me anymore."

Lindsey wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about, but was glad at least that whatever sacrifice Vin had made hadn't been entirely to his detriment.

"Vance isn't particularly impressed," Lindsey warned him but Vin's smile didn't fade in the least. If anything, he started to look a little self-satisfied.

"Come on," Lindsey said, gesturing up the stairs, "the least we can do is get you some coffee then find you some place quiet to hide for a while until tempers blow over."

"I didn't think you had that kind of faith in humanity," Vin said with a side-long glance as he climbed the stairs beside Lindsey.

"What can I say," Lindsey told him. "I'm an optimist."

Vin's laughter was infectious and Lindsey reached the floor with the MCRT in high spirits. He exited the stairwell first, glancing around for either Vance or Gibbs, but upon seeing neither, gestured for Vin to follow him.

"Hey Winchester," Lindsey said quietly, drawing his teammate's attention without the notice of the NCIS team. "Tanner's back."

"Gotcha," Dean said just as quietly. He clapped Vin on the shoulder and led him off, chatting amicably as they went. Lindsey wondered if Vin realised what he'd let himself in for. He'd managed to earn the loyalty of four men, each extremely dangerous in their own way and equally dedicated to ensuring the health and happiness of those they counted as one of their own.

It was just as well as only a moment later Vance stormed down the stairs and went straight for Lindsey, who held his ground, looking the picture of innocence.

"Where's Tanner?" Vance demanded. "Security says he checked in 10 minutes ago."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Director," Lindsey said with his most genial smile, the one he usually reserved for court.

"Maybe he took the elevator," Adam said, barely even glancing up, and Lindsey had to concentrate on not allowing his smile to turn into a smirk. NCIS's elevator issues were becoming somewhat legendary.

"If I am unable to find him so that he can adequately explain his actions, I'll be forced to open an internal investigation," Vance said, eyeing them critically.

"That would be unfortunate," Lindsey told him, wondering what exactly Vin had done, because this was beyond a little interference to get the team back in, this was along the lines of life-long enemy in the making.

"Very," Vin agreed, stepping into view with a steaming mug of what Lindsey assumed to be truly awful coffee in hand. Lindsey looked to Dean who rolled his eyes and spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Whatever consequences you have for me, I'm more than willing to take. Are you willing to do the same?"

"What do you mean?" Vance demanded.

"Deputy Director Fitzgerald sends his regards," Vin said and from the way Vance's eyes narrowed, Lindsey knew there was one hell of a story there, but he doubted he'd ever find out all the details.

"Isn't that nice," Dean said with a falsely cheery tone as he stepped just a little in front of Vin.

"Yes," Vance ground out. "Very." He turned on his heeled and walked away.

...

"DiNozzo," Adam said and Dean automatically turned to look as well, because that had been Adam's Senior Agent voice and it was awfully close to Bobby's 'listen up ya idgits' voice. "I've got what you wanted."

"You narrowed that list down?" Tony asked.

"To two probable locations," Adam said, "though I suspect one might be a trap."

"I want you here to co-ordinate," Tony told him and Dean could immediately see the annoyance and frustration in Adam's expression.

"I'm the only one who's taken one of these things down," Adam said, somehow thrumming with tightly coiled tension even though he hadn't moved at all.

"Yes, and you're also the most... diplomatic one amongst us," Tony continued, ignoring the danger Adam might present and staring him in the eye. "This isn't Quantico. We don't have Lynch and Crawford to back us up. What we have is McGee and Vance."

Slowly, so very slowly, Adam seemed to uncoil, relaxing inch by inch, before he nodded. It was something he never thought he'd think, but Dean couldn't wait until they were back at Quantico and in familiar surroundings. DC hadn't been good for any of them.

"You're right," Adam said, by way of apology and acknowledgement all rolled into one. Dean knew that wasn't all of it. They were all secretive and intensely private and yet all hated being out of the loop and unable to help, so Adam's reticence put them all a little off-kilter. But they all had their secrets, that just came with the territory, and Dean didn't feel comfortable prying when he had his own wounds, still raw and aching with their newness.

It was all so much easier when they could just investigate each other and come by the information that way. Then no one had to reveal anything painful and uncomfortable, but they all knew what triggers to avoid. Adam's were always more difficult since he hid so much better than the rest of them. Dean blamed his age, whatever it really was.

"Gibbs," Tony said when man exited the elevator, expensive coffee in hand.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a quiet, lethal growl. There was absolutely nothing in Tony's expression or demeanour that changed at the threat and Dean smirked at the brief, frustrated look that crossed Gibbs's face.

"We've got two potential locations. Any suggestions on dividing the teams?" Tony asked. Dean knew the best way would be to have two experienced people on each team, because either could be a trap and it wouldn't do to send in an unprepared team.

"Ziva," Gibbs said. "You're with Dinozzo." Gibbs's eyes narrowed when he looked at Adam, who wasn't grabbing his weapon and gear and preparing himself like the others. "McGee, you stay here."

"Yes, Boss," McGee said quickly.

"Winchester, you're with me," Tony said and Dean nodded, already moving to stand at his side. "McDonald," Tony began, but Lindsey was already standing between Vin and Gibbs. Lindsey nodded solemnly.

"Move out," Gibbs barked and Ziva jumped to obey his command. Dean wasn't about to give Gibbs the satisfaction, even if he had to fight every ounce of his father's training, so it was only after Tony nodded to them that Dean and Lindsey moved as well. Vin sidled along after them.

...

Tony watched Dean go through the contents of his duffle bag, selecting the most efficient weapons, always a dangerous act for the uninitiated. It was just as likely to have the remains of a previous hunt cemented to clothing as the weapons you needed. Ziva watched on in interest.

"Got something in your goodie bag?" he asked just before Dean handed him an axe. Tony gave it an experimental swing, testing its heft, then propped it up against the wall.

"You heard Baines," Dean told him. "Decapitation works as well as anything."

"Decapitation?" Ziva asked, brow raised sceptically as she looked at Tony.

"To sever head from torso," he told her absently as he took a necklace Dean handed him and slipped it over his head. He thought he recognised it, from what little training and hands-on experience he'd undergone in the last year, as a minor ward against hexes.

"I know what it means," Ziva said impatiently even as she reassessed Tony. Dean's glance at her was narrow-eyed and incisive before he seemed to dismiss her utterly, though Tony knew better. Dean didn't trust Ziva. She acted rashly and Tony didn't trust her with his own safety, never mind that of his team, so he couldn't entirely blame Dean for his reaction.

"You believe in the strange and unusual, right?" Tony asked her. She nodded.

"I believe that last time, on that ship, it was you who was sceptical when I mentioned ghosts," she said haughtily. Tony rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it. As if that indicated anything. If that was the sum of her belief then she was sorely lacking in any real experience. And as much of an amateur hunter as Tony was, Ziva was even less accomplished.

"At this point, a ghost would be a piece of pie," Dean said, drawing out a machete from his bag.

"Is it not cake?" Ziva asked with a frown.

"Oh please," Dean scoffed. "Like cake is anywhere near as good as pie."

"We're going after zombies," Tony told her as plainly as possible, knowing that she wouldn't appreciate coddling.

"It is not kind to tease me in this way," Ziva insisted, glaring at them and crossing her arms. Sometimes, Tony wondered why he even bothered.

"Look Princess," Dean said, rising to his feet. "I don't care what your problem is, but this is serious. What we're heading into, we can't afford arrogance or distrust, not when it will get us killed."

"I can handle myself against anything," she insisted, drawing herself up. Dean still towered over her. She turned to Tony instead. "Have I not proved myself?"

"Maybe that's true and maybe it's not, but when we're in the field, you answer to him or you'll answer to me," Dean told her, staring her down before he turned back to Tony who nodded back.

As awful as returning to DC had been in many ways, it had been equally revelatory in others. His team had closed ranks and been brought closer together and they had backed him up without reservation. Whatever else happened, Tony couldn't regret encountering his old team and all the raw wounds they'd exposed.

...

Ducky was nothing if not patient, so he waited. He waited until there was no more evidence to be processed and there was a lull in the investigation before he decided to indulge his curiosity. Which was how he found himself to be on the level of the bullpen, looking at the two men situated in the MCRT's area, though only the unfamiliar one interested him at the moment.

"Agent Baines," he greeted the man in a scruffy T-shirt and jeans. The man looked up at him, features sharp and wary before they relaxed into something more neutral as he looked at Ducky expectantly.

"Doctor Mallard," he returned. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Ducky, please," he insisted, because despite the case and the combined investigation, Anthony was looking happier and healthier than he had in a long time, and this man was at least a small part of that.

"Adam," he said in return, easing into something approaching friendly, though Ducky could still see caution and distance in his expression. He couldn't entirely blame Adam, not when to Tony's team it must seem that they were entrenched with the enemy, so to speak. Adam's eyes were piercing and intelligent in a way that reminded Ducky of birds of prey and he knew better than to try to mislead the other man.

Timothy watched on with interest, but Ducky didn't chastise him for eavesdropping. He thought that perhaps now might be a good time to show the young man a different perspective.

"I was hoping to find out how young Anthony has been."

"Have you thought of asking young Anthony?" Adam asked with a hint of mockery. Ducky found himself smiling just a little.

"Anthony has a particular talent at dissembling."

Adam smirked and Ducky got the feeling that might have been a common trait, at least between Anthony and Adam, but possibly the entire team. Anthony had a tendency to attract to him two kinds of people; those who could see through him and his masks and those who had plenty of their own. They were the only ones who could really understand him when everyone else bought into what he showed them.

"It is one of his more commendable qualities," Adam said with more than a hint of admiration. Ducky couldn't help but laugh outright at that, getting the feeling that Anthony had finally found a team, possibly even a family, that fully accepted him and Ducky was glad.

"He seems happy," Ducky said, intending it to be a statement, but unable to avoid the lilt at the end that made it a question.

Adam shrugged and Ducky knew that he wouldn't get any more out of the man than that. Ducky was equally disappointed and appreciative. Anthony had found people who weren't going to betray his confidences and would defend him against intrusion into his personal life. It was a welcome change as far as Ducky was concerned.

"He's in good hands then," Ducky said, ignoring Timothy's snort, but not the way Adam's eyes narrowed for the briefest fraction of a second before his expression cleared and his smile was just a little wicked.

"I'm sure he'd agree," Adam said, voice laden with insinuation.

Oh, Ducky thought, now wasn't that interesting. It seemed young Anthony was finally in a relationship that was doing him some good. Ducky wished he was more involved in Anthony's new life, but Anthony only gave the barest details to those still in contact with him, and Ducky could understand why. NCIS had become a place of burden to him and no longer the haven he'd first found. He could only be grateful that Anthony maintained contact with the few people he did.

"And the case, have you made any progress?" he asked, curious how well they worked together.

"We're moving in on the suspect as we speak," Adam told him, something fierce lurking behind passive eyes. There was definitely more to this man than first met the eye. Much like Anthony. He appeared younger than Tim and as capable with computers, but Ducky couldn't shake the feeling that Adam was far more formidable. A frisson of trepidation shivered along his spine and Ducky decided to take comfort in the idea that this man was on Anthony's side. The alternative was unconscionable.

...

Tony approached the second location cautiously. Dean walked a little to his right, confident and sure, as only a long-time hunter could be. There were only ever two options for hunters, either they became very, very good or they died. The ones who'd been doing it for years, for decades, were the ones who'd been doing something right, were the ones who were dangerous.

Ziva followed a little behind the two, machete in hand. She was a little more proficient with that weapon than Tony was entirely comfortable with, especially when she was behind him where he couldn't keep her in his line of sight. But he had Dean there, too, and that helped. It made all the difference.

Before he'd even opened the door, Tony could smell death and decay. A glance at Dean, who nodded briefly at him, indicated he could smell it as well. They'd definitely come to the right place. Tony eased the unlocked door opened and signed for Dean to enter first. He was always surprised at the quick and practiced way Dean could move, surprisingly quiet for being so tall and broad. Tony went in next, making sure Ziva followed him.

A rasping, grumbling sort of sound was the only warning they had before Carver is on them. The smell was like a weeks old crime scene and Tony struggled not to gag because no matter how many years he'd been working the job, that wasn't just something you got used to. Not really.

"Ziva, be careful," Tony said as he and Dean tried to keep their distance from the hulking zombie, despite the cramped quarters.

"I've taken down soldiers bigger than him," she retorted before launching herself at Carver. She tried to use a move Tony had seen her use on any number of large marines over the years, but Carver just growled a protest and grabbed her arm, propelling her into a wall. She cried out in pain and clasped at her arm, blood oozing sluggishly where he'd torn the skin.

Tony moved into the open, emptying his clip into Carver, mostly to distract him while Dean moved in, circling around Carver. Dean chopped at the Carver's neck and the blade sunk in deeply, slicing through his shoulder, but not entirely through his neck. Dean tried to yank the blade out, but it remained firmly stuck. Carver spun around, pulling the handle from Dean's grip and Dean smiled winsomely.

"Sorry about that," he said, with a shrug. "I slipped."

"You, Dean Winchester, are going to be the death of me," Tony despaired even as he launched himself at Carver. His assessment that it was going to hurt was proved correct when Carver tossed him aside without too much issue, but his reckless action had bought Dean time.

"It's okay," Dean told him, already going for Ziva's discarded blade. Tony was a little, but not terribly, reassured to hear the worry in his voice. "I know a guy. A few actually."

Considering some of the stories he'd been told and conversations he'd overheard, Tony was sure he wasn't exaggerating. It was bad enough the Adam was Immortal and Lindsey had been tangled up with demons; the idea that Dean knew people who could resurrect the dead, or at least raise them, was still a little chilling. Tony wasn't sure he'd ever get used to this world.

Dean sliced at Carver's neck from the other side and finally managed to separate the head from the shoulders. Tony was a little disturbed to see the eyes still blinking at him, even as the body stumbled around. Dean brought the blade down again, cutting into Carver's abdomen and the body finally collapsed. Tony let himself breathe a sigh of relief and avoided looking too closely at the head.

...

Lindsey and Vin glanced at each other as they approached a second property Reeve had inherited from her parents. They both knew they had to keep Gibbs out of the fight as much as possible. Not only would he not believe them before they went in and proved it, but he'd be a liability to them even if he did. There was no way Gibbs would take direction from either of them.

Lindsey was glad at least for Vin at his side and whatever abilities Vin had. Though it still frustrated him that, despite all his knowledge and experience, he couldn't figure out just what Vin might be. Nevertheless, he was a good ally and, Lindsey was beginning to think, a good friend. He did worry, though, about Vin when he didn't have Lindsey and his team to watch his back. He didn't trust Gibbs at all to adequately back up Vin.

As they reached the door, Gibbs in the lead, Lindsey drew his gun. It might not work against Tess Reeve, but it would work against Lydia just as well. There was a knife at his back that would defend against Tess, at least until Vin could deal with her. He'd augmented his strength and speed with Enochian symbols, similar to the ones he'd used against Angel, but it was only a temporary solution and would leave him drained for days after.

Gibbs went in first with Vin and Lindsey close at his heels. Lindsey readied to activate the first of his wards when the stench of death filled his nostrils and he had to cough discretely. Vin wrinkled his nose but otherwise didn't visibly react.

He, too, was prepared. As Lindsey watched, the edges around the other man seemed to blur a little, blending into the shadowed interior of the house. Lindsey's curiosity burned fiercely and Vin's mischievous grin let him know the other man was entirely aware of it and unlikely to put him out of his misery any time soon.

Silently, efficiently, they cleared the house, until they came to the basement door in a corner of the kitchen. They shared a look and Gibbs signalled them to keep back while went in first. Vin frowned at the danger Gibbs was putting himself in, but Lindsey wasn't particularly worried. They would be there if something went wrong and if something did knock Gibbs around a little, well, it was the least he deserved as far as Lindsey was concerned.

Gibbs eased the door open and descended the stairs cautiously. Vin followed closely and Lindsey remained at the top of the stairs, poised to either join them or defend them from a flanking attack.

There was a loud crash, followed by an inhuman shriek and Lindsey sped down the stairs, intent on helping Vin. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Gibbs slumped against a wall, blood at his temple. Vin was grappling with Tess Reeve, gun swapped for his silver knife, as he matched her strength for strength.

Lydia Reeve worked quickly at her altar. Lindsey drew his gun and aimed it at her, frustrated that he was confined by FBI procedures even though the perpetrators they dealt with generally didn't fit the specified parameters.

"FBI," he said, "you're under arrest."

She spun, face contorted with rage.

"You're ruining everything!" she snarled, launching herself at him and throwing powder in his face. He didn't know what it was, but could think of a number of options which could do anything from blind him to trap him in nightmares, and he'd prefer to avoid all of them. He used his enhanced speed to dodge and strength to grab her, twist her arm around and wrestle her to the floor. She struggled all the way.

"I'll take care of this," Vin told him, jerking his head toward his opponent. "You deal with them."

Lindsey cuffed Lydia Reeve and pushed her in front of him before hoisting Gibbs onto his shoulder and left Tess Reeve to Vin's capabilities. He had just settled Gibbs on the lawn when Vin came jogging out of the house. Vin pulled Gibbs with him as he ducked behind the car and Lindsey automatically followed his lead. Barely seconds later, an explosion rocked them and Lindsey felt a burst of heat. He wasn't sure whether to praise or berate Vin when the other man grinned unrepentantly.

"Buck would be so proud," Vin told him. Lindsey had no idea who that was, but he had the feeling he was better off that way.

...

Ziva stared at the remains, wide-eyed and pale beneath her olive skin. She cradled her bruised and bloody arm to her chest protectively.

Dean ignored her and wasted no time in pulling out the gasoline and salt he needed to purify and burn the body. Tony didn't relish the idea of burning a corpse that wasn't bones yet, but there was very little alternative. Not when the body was still twitching. He hoped the others had fared a little less messily.

"I don't understand," Ziva said.

"Zombie," Dean enunciated slowly. Tony frowned, remembering being in almost exactly the same situation not that long ago. Because Dean'd grown up knowing about the supernatural, knowing and experiencing the dangers until it became normal to him, he tended to lack sympathy for those who refused to believe.

"You okay?" Tony asked her.

"It's just a scratch," she said, referring to her arm because she never discussed her emotions, certainly not with him, not even when they were teammates. He winced a little at the phrase, but let it slide.

"We'll take care of this," he told her. "But we do still need something from you."

"What?" she asked, focusing on his face and not letting her gaze wander to the still twitching corpse on the ground.

"You can't report this," he told her.

"But..." she began before nodding solemnly. She looked more shaken than he'd ever seen her, except perhaps after Somalia. "I understand."

"Come on," Tony told her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder, only to withdraw it when she shrugged it off. "We need to agree on a story."

"We found nothing," Ziva said, drawing herself together now that she was on more familiar territory.

"You can't tell the others, not if they aren't aware of the supernatural. They wouldn't understand," Tony said.

"That will not be a problem," she told him dispassionately as she looked up at him with aloof eyes.

Tony felt a frisson of something... anger, regret maybe, at the ease with which she could lie to the team without any remorse, could draw on her training so that she remained always the untouchable assassin. It was part of the reason why he'd left. His gaze followed her as she turned and walked away.

There was a whoosh as flames ignited the body and Dean came to stand at Tony's side.

"Pie?" he asked, because of all of them Dean was the least comfortable with emotion, and that was saying something. It was Dean's version of asking if he was alright and letting him know he had support if he needed it.

"Pie," Tony agreed.

...

Gibbs came to to the sound of sirens and the heat and light of a fire. Tanner was kneeling over him and flagging down the paramedics. Suit was wrestling with Reeve, who was still trying to struggle away from him.

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to sit up. The heavy weight of Tanner's hand on his shoulder pressed him back into the ground and he was just dizzy enough not to be able to put up a proper fight.

"You hit your head pretty hard," Tanner told him, keeping a firm hand on his shoulder.

"What the hell happened?" Gibbs demanded, turning to take in the blazing shell of a house.

"We got Reeve, but there was an exchange of gunfire and there must have been a gas leak," Tanner said with a shrug.

Gibbs couldn't possibly believe that was the truth. Despite Tanner's guileless expression, there was something in his eyes that Gibbs didn't trust, that he hadn't trusted from the beginning. Tanner hid too many things. Secrets Gibbs didn't have access to that made him uneasy with their unpredictability.

Reeve briefly broke away from Suit just as the paramedics reached Gibbs and kneeled beside him, beginning to check his vitals.

"I'll curse you. I'll curse you all! You can't escape me!" Reeve yelled. Gibbs was mildly impressed when Suit put her down hard, a knee between her shoulder blades keeping her on the ground.

"Just wait until I find her again. You can't keep me from my sister. I'll bring her back! Death can't keep her!"

Tanner rolled his eyes as he turned back to the paramedics.

"Insanity defence," he said, though Gibbs noted the way his sharp gaze turned back to follow Suit and Reeve when the paramedics looked away.

...

Tony couldn't help his half-smile as he listened to his team banter while they packed away their things. It was easy and relaxed, the way it had been in the early days with the NCIS team. He stumbled a step when Abby launched herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her in return.

"It's been so good to have you here," she told her, holding on painfully tight.

"It's been good to see you, too," he said. Abby released him before punching his arm.

"Don't leave it so long next time."

"No ma'am," he agreed with a grin.

Ducky shook hands with Adam and Tony wondered what that was about before deciding he was better off not knowing. Between them, Ducky and Adam had the strangest connections to the strangest people. The idea of them collaborating worried Tony more than a little.

Dean clapped Tanner on the shoulder, then ruffled his hair and Tony laughed at Tanner's disgruntled look.

"We ever cross paths again and DiNozzo's buying," Dean told Tanner. Tony rolled his eyes, but then he did owe Dean a drink for co-operating with Gibbs. He'd probably be paying for that for a long-time to come.

Then Ducky was in front of him, smiling and Tony smiled back, glad he'd had this chance to properly reconnect with the man. He'd missed Ducky's steadying presence.

"I'm happy for you," Ducky told him, drawing him into a quick hug, which Tony returned.

"Thanks," he said sincerely and Ducky patted him on the shoulder before stepping away.

Palmer gave him a smile and a nod, to which Tony gave him a two-finger salute and smiled back. Lindsey was talking quietly to Tanner, who nodded intermittently, and Tony hoped he was offering their help if he ever needed it. They more than owed it to him.

He saw Gibbs standing, arms folded as he glared at Tony and his team. Ziva stood at his side, arm in a sling. McGee stood a little away from the other two, not meeting their eyes and Tony wondered if he should have hope that they'd come around. They'd both taken quite a knock over the last while.

Regardless, Tony felt like he'd ended something here, closed off a section of his life that previously he'd left open and exposed. He felt settled now. Happy. It was almost a surprise.

...

Vin swung a leg over his bike and sighed as he looked up at the grey and shabby building that housed his apartment. He was almost sad now that the case was over and it would just be him and Gibbs's team. He couldn't bring himself to think of them as his own, not when his team, his real team, were waiting for him in Denver.

"Bad day?" someone asked from behind him and Vin spun, hand going for his gun, before his brain caught up with the cadence and tone of voice. He felt relief and all the tension and suspicion he'd been carrying for the past few weeks drained away.

"Chris," he said, taking in the sight of his team leader with Ezra at his shoulder. He and Chris gripped forearms, unable to stop grinning at each other, and Ezra nodded at Vin with a smile of his own.

"It is good to see you, Mr Tanner," Ezra told him.

"You, too, Ez."

"It's over," Chris told him, finally releasing his grip. Vin felt that loss of physical connection, of being grounded, keenly. Then Ezra settled an arm around his shoulders and began to update him about the team as he steered them into the block and Vin's apartment. By the time they were seated on Vin's dingy couch and chairs, it felt almost like he'd never left.

"SecNav resigned," Chris said, anger hardening his features and tensing his jaw. "Part of the deal to avoid a scandal."

"Seems when La Grenouille was killed, he was involved with an agent from the CIA in taking over the position for their own benefit," Ezra explained. "Assistant Director Travis is attempting to pursue the matter further."

Vin grimaced, sure Travis wasn't going to be able to get all that much further, because the CIA would undoubtedly be covering their own asses and, in the process, ruining whatever case the team had managed to pull together.

"Vance?" he asked, because even though he didn't like the man or his politics, he couldn't really see him as dirty. Chris shook his head.

"Seems most of the dirt belonged to the previous director, Shepard. We can't tie much of anything to Vance and he's gone to bat for Gibbs."

"Given how much leeway he's given Gibbs over the years, any other course of action would only implicate himself," Ezra added.

It was frustrating and disappointing that even their best, even their sacrifices, just hadn't been enough, that sometimes there just wasn't any justice to be had. Chris rest a hand on Vin's shoulder, drawing his attention in and holding it.

"We might not have won this time," he said, meeting Vin's eyes with steely determination, "but both the ATF and FBI are going to be keeping a close eye on Vance and Gibbs. They step a toe over the line and they'll go down."

Vin breathed out, letting that be enough. Chris pressed his forehead to Vin's, compelling Vin to feel the connection they'd always shared, to trust Chris, and he did.

"It's time to come home."

...

Tony pressed the doorbell, trying to reign in his impatience. He hadn't even bothered to stop by his place first after the flight back. There were footsteps, then a brief pause, before the door swung open.

"Hey," he said, unable to restrain his wide grin.

"Hey," Aaron said softly, smile quirking his lips.

"I missed you," Tony told him, slipping into his reach and feeling the comfortable weight of Aaron's arms settling around him. Aaron always felt solid and warm, like safety and sanctuary.

"I missed you, too," Aaron said, eyes bright with affection, his arms tightening around Tony and pulling him closer.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, smile turning a little sly. "How much?"

Aaron didn't reply, just shifted a hand to the back of Tony's head and drew him into a kiss. It was slow and tender and affectionate in ways most of his previous relationships had lacked. It made him feel, if he dared to think it, loved. It was novel.

"Tony!" Jack yelled and Aaron pulled away from him, slowly, reluctantly. Tony knelt down as Jack rushed at him and grasped arms around Tony's neck. Tony wrapped his arms securely around the small body and swung him around.

"Hey kiddo."

"Welcome home," Aaron told him with a sidelong look that told Tony he knew exactly what impact that statement would have. It was the best thing Tony had heard in a while.

...

"You should probably lock your front door," Chris said, coming to stand halfway down the stairs in Gibbs's basement. "Anyone could just walk in."

He pointedly ignored the gun Gibbs aimed at him for a long moment before he slowly lowered it. Gibbs grunted but didn't reply. Green and blue eyes clashed as they glared at each other.

"You're dirty," Chris rasped, pouring all of his disdain into those words. Gibbs folded his arms and his glare intensified.

"Prove it," Gibbs said.

"We both know I can't," Chris said, then shook his head. "Won't," he corrected. "You've managed to tangle up a lot of good people in your business."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Gibbs said with narrowed eyes.

"We have documents, files, paper trails on everyone from analysts to the Sec Nav. I know exactly what I'm talking about."

"You going to keep an eye on me?" Gibbs asked, mocking and severe. It would be an empty threat; they both knew that.

"I'll let the FBI do that."

"What do you want then?" Gibbs demanded.

"You come anywhere near Vin, you so much as speak a wrong word about him, and I'll end you," Chris said, remembering the weary and defeated tone Vin had had every time Gibbs and his team had been brought up. "I don't care who I'd have to drag down with you."

Gibbs's expression was scornful, but Chris could see something lurking behind his eyes, something very close to trepidation and he nodded, satisfied that he'd gotten his message across. He turned and left.

...

"I think they were awesome," Abby said, downing another shot. Palmer had lost count of how many that made, but her voice was slurring just a little around the edges. He blinked at her.

McGee grunted noncommittally and Ziva just raised an eyebrow. Palmer wondered what had happened that had so completely subdued the both of them. The FBI team had seemed quite agreeable to him. He'd even had a rather interesting conversation about classic cars and unusual methods of murder with Winchester in the break room. He'd seemed friendly enough and rather enthusiastic about the topic. It was just a pity Ducky hadn't been there.

"And hot."

Abby gave a dreamy sigh, eyes going unfocussed and Palmer felt his cheeks go warm as he blushed. He wondered if maybe he'd had a shot too many, as well. McGee glared at his glass before he downed the last of his drink.

"I don't think they were all that great," he muttered. Ziva's derisive snort marked her agreement.

"I liked them," Abby reiterated. "Didn't you like them?" She looked around the table but only Palmer would meet her eyes, so she ended up focusing on him. He nodded.

"They seemed nice."

This time both McGee and Ziva scoffed.

"Tony was happy, so I like them," Abby said, glaring at McGee and Ziva.

Palmer knew that, like him, she hadn't exactly been happy with the way they'd treated Tony and it had taken them a long while to work themselves back into her good graces when Tony had left. He figured it was only because Tony kept in touch with her and wasn't out of her life entirely that she'd even considered it. Palmer was definitely grateful for the same. Tony had become a good friend and it had been gratifying to see him flourish at the FBI, even if it meant he didn't work in the same building, or even the same city, anymore.

"There was something weird about them," McGee said. Palmer couldn't help but agree, especially when Ziva went absolutely still.

"That's part of what makes them so awesome," Abby said with her very best attempt at a wicked grin, which, Palmer had to admit, was quite good even if she was drunk.

"To Tony," Palmer said, grabbing another shot, because if that wasn't cause for celebration, he didn't know what was. Abby mirrored his movements and they tapped glasses together, spilling a little as they did. McGee grumbled under his breath and dropped his head to the table. Ziva ignored them all.

"To Tony," Abby agreed.