Terror in the Dark
by channelD
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written for: the NFA A Vampire Challenge
rating: K plus
genre: Dark, dark, dark
characters: Tim and the usual
setting: The Navy Yard, late October -- Halowe'en time! Season 6
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disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.
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"McGee? Working late again?"
Tim looked up at Gibbs. It wasn't really that late, by most standards; just past 6 p.m., although darkness was seeping in. "I won't be too long, boss…"
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. He had his coat in hand, about to make his way out the door after a day-ending meeting with Vance. "You've been coming in and working early, too, haven't you? I noticed your timesheets."
"Uh, yeah, I have," Tim admitted, looking down. "I've been trying to build up my vacation time. I want to go to Greece in the spring."
"Okay. As long as you're working for credit hours instead of overtime pay. Until Congress passes our budget—"
"I know. No overtime pay."
"Unless something major comes up. See you tomorrow."
Vance came up just then. "Good night, Gibbs. Take care out there—it's another one of those partly-cloudy nights, just like the last time—"
Gibbs grinned, amused. "Don't tell me you actually believe those tales of 'something' out there in the dark of the Yard, Leon?"
"I only know what people have reported," Vance said, shrugging. "Until we get a handle on it, I'd just say…be cautious." He turned and left. Gibbs headed in the opposite direction, chuckling, and Tim got back to work for a moment before stretching and deciding he needed a break.
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Screams came, and then shots rang out, from somewhere outside. The few employees still at work in HQ rushed to the windows, straining to see in the dark. Presently Gibbs came back up in the elevator, looking winded. His sig was still in his hand. "Some…one tried to get Arielle Johnson from Intel," he said to Vance and the others who had gathered. "She's a little hysterical at the moment. Some friends are seeing to her."
"You fired at the assailant?" Vance asked.
"I fired well over his head. I did the usual, ID'd myself as NCIS, but he was starting to drag her away." Gibbs' eyes swept the squad room. "Where's McGee?"
Tim had just come up in the elevator to hear those last two words. "Right here, boss."
"Did you get a good look at the guy?" Vance pressed.
Gibbs shook his head. "Too dark, and he was wearing dark clothing. And maybe a cape, which disguised his build. About 6 feet tall. That's all I can guess."
"We have a problem, then. I'll get Yard Security on it," said Vance. "And I'll go make an announcement." He swiftly did so, turning on the PA system to urge employees leaving the building after dark to travel in twos, and, if not armed, to carry a whistle.
Gibbs gave Tim a look. "Where were you just now?"
"I took a break. I went out to stretch; get some air."
"You didn't see the guy?"
"I heard the commotion, but I'd walked over to the park. By the time I got back here, things were breaking up."
Sighing, Gibbs reholstered his sig. "Be careful when you leave, McGee."
"Well, boss; if this guy is just attacking women—"
"We don't know what his motives are yet. Don't make assumptions."
"Gotcha, boss."
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The next night found Tim staying late again to work. "Are you certain that you would rather not be home writing?" Ziva teased as 5 o'clock came and the sun was lowering.
"No, I really would rather be home writing," Tim agreed. "But I want to go to Greece even more."
"It is your choice."
Tim looked at a vacant desk. "Tony already leave?"
"No, he has gone downstairs to persuade Abby to take a ride with him. We are concerned about her traveling through the Yard, alone, after dark."
Tim's eyes narrowed and he was lost in thought for a moment. "Surely this guy would have been scared off by Gibbs last night. We won't see him again."
"We did not see him clearly in the earlier sightings," Ziva pointed out. "And from the earlier descriptions I heard, I am not convinced it was a man."
"You think it was a woman??"
"No! I meant, it may not be human. There are many ill-defined creatures of the night…"
"—But today is the 28th, and most of the best Halloween costumes are gone already," Tony said breezily, coming off the elevator with Abby in tow. "Abbs and I are going to Roche's for a drink. You guys want to come?"
"Not tonight," said Tim, and Ziva likewise begged off.
"Okay," said Tony. "Night-night, and don't let anything bigger than a bedbug bite!"
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There was another attack, just after 9 that evening.
A man who worked at the Navy Museum next door to NCIS was jumped, and dragged into bushes. His screams roused nearby Marines, plus agents from NCIS on the night shift. The attacker fled as rescue closed in.
The museum worker took awhile to calm down before he could tell about the incident. "Scariest thing of it was," he said in a whisper, "I think he had fangs. And that he was going to bite my neck. I felt his hot breath on my face…"
"Oh, great," murmured the supervisory special agent to one of her people. "Now it's a vampire on the loose." Her gaze wandered. "McGee!" she called as he loped toward the group. "What are you doing here so late?"
"I'm working credit hours, Klara."
"Yeah? Well, you need sack time, too. It's late. Go home."
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Fear ran through NCIS the next day as word of the night attack spread. Few people were willing to admit that they believed in vampires, though most were nonetheless shaken. Although there had been no sights of the malevolent being in the daytime, fewer employees went outside even in daylight hours. One just never knew.
All that day at work Tim felt he was being watched. By whom, he didn't know. Sometimes he would look up quickly and see Tony or Ziva's gaze flick away; other times they were obviously busy with something and couldn't have been looking at him. The squad room security cameras? Tim wondered, and felt a flash of fear. But why would they be looking at me?!
There had been no new cases for the team for days. Nothing to keep them out in the field after dark. Other employees, particularly ones who couldn't afford to drive in and so had to walk the three blocks to the M Street gate to the Yard, and then on down M street to the Metro station, bit into their vacation time and started leaving work an hour or half-hour early—while it was still light out.
At 4:30 p.m., as the shadows in the park across the street were growing long and purple, Tim suddenly found his desk flanked by Gibbs and Vance. Their faces were hard.
"McGee. Come with us," Vance said; ice in his voice.
"Sir?"
"Now, McGee," said Gibbs.
Tim stood up and went with them, noticing Tony & Ziva's cool gazes as he went.
His superiors lead him to an interrogation room. "Sit," Gibbs snapped.
"Uh…what's this all about, boss? Director?" Tim asked, sitting slowly. His heart was starting to pound.
"McGee, we've identified employees who have been at HQ at the time of all of the attacks," said Vance. "Guess what? You're on the short list."
Tim's jaw dropped a foot. "Director! You can't think…"
"Explain yourself, McGee," said Gibbs, inches from his face.
"I've—I've been working late, and coming in early, to build up credit hours."
"So you've said. Yet witnesses put you outside the building at the time of each of the attacks…You know how I feel about coincidences, McGee."
Tim was truly frightened now. They mustn't find out… "Boss, you can't possibly think I'm a…a…whatever they've been saying!"
"Well, we'll see about that, McGee," said Vance. "The first thing we're going to do is put you in Holding overnight; see if our visitor returns. If he does, you're off the suspect list."
"No…no…" Tim moaned as Gibbs handcuffed him and led him to a cell.
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"Boss!" Tony tried to snag Gibbs' ear as Gibbs swung through the squad room. "Is it McGee? Did he confess?" His voice had the smallest amount of worry in it. Gibbs knew that Tony was desperate to have him say, 'no.'
"Number 1, I don't know. Number 2, no," said Gibbs, and could have sworn that Tony and Ziva smiled for a second. "It's 5. Go home. Be careful leaving." He headed up to Vance's office, idly wondering if they should watch Tim for signs of a transformation. Hair all over? No, that's a werewolf.
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Gibbs and Vance settled in for what could be a long night. While giving an occasional glance to the plasma monitor showing Tim in the cell, they spent most of their time talking. Vance showed Gibbs the latest pictures of his family, and they compared experiences in California. Tim, for his part, sat looking morose; and sometimes broke into tears. Vance and Gibbs weren't buying it. Something had happened to make this good man go bad, and if he hadn't confessed by morning, they'd start a full-scale investigation to unearth evidence.
At 7:30 the door opened at Ducky barged in. "I've been looking all over for—" Then he saw the monitor. "Oh, dear dear dear! I can guess what you're thinking, but you're terribly wrong! You must release Timothy immediately!"
"Duck, he's our number one suspect right now—"
"In the assaults. No, no; you've gone about this all wrong! Timothy's not your culprit! Release him now so we can catch the real assailant!"
"Oh, Lord, NO!!" came clearly through the window, followed by a scream of utter terror. Ducky rushed out and bounded into the elevator, Gibbs and Vance just a step behind him. Out the NCIS main entrance they went and encountered people running to and fro.
"Near the chapel, I think!" said Vance. The Navy chapel was a small structure in front of the NCIS building; it came close to, but did not come up against HQ.
There a man in dark clothing was grappling with a woman, while another woman tried desperately to pull him away. The area was dark, with just a sliver of moon journeying between the clouds, and it was hard to see much.
"Seize him, but don't hurt him," Ducky ordered. "He needs help, not condemnation."
Together Gibbs and Vance tackled the man—for a man it definitely was. Gibbs knelt on the assailant's chest while Ducky attended to the victim. Gibbs pulled off the man's ski mask. "Palmer!"
Ducky gazed at his protégé sadly. "I'm sorry I let this go this far, Mr. Palmer," he said. "Timothy and I were trying to get you away from this, get you into treatment…"
"There's treatment for acting like a vampire??" Vance said in wonder.
"Acting is all it is. Jimmy didn't really hurt anyone," Ducky said, trying to convince the others. "He's been under a lot of stress lately. Major exams at medical school. A number of tough cases here. His mother isn't well. Maybe too much time around bodies. I'm afraid the poor boy has succumbed to the pressure. He needs…rest. Timothy and I were hoping to keep it quiet."
"This is incredible," said Vance. "When did you first learn that Palmer was acting like a…vampire?"
"Oh, a little over a week ago, one night when the moon was full. Timothy told me that he thought Palmer was acting a little odd, so we followed him that night. But he was too slippery; he kept getting away. Timothy is only one man, and I'm not much for foot races anymore."
"You should have come to me, Duck," Gibbs sighed.
"I know, Jethro; perhaps you're right. We were trying to spare Palmer the embarrassment."
"Well, let's get him to a hospital; have a psych evaluation done. And we'll see where it goes from there," said Vance, taking out his cell phone. "Go ahead and release McGee," he added to Gibbs.
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In his cell, Tim sat, sensing for once that no one was watching him at the moment. How acute his senses seemed lately. It had been a good plan; now it just needed to be taken a bit farther afield.
He rubbed the spot on his neck, under the turtleneck. Still a little sore. Palmer was good at what he did. Then he rolled his tongue over his slightly-pointed teeth, and smiled.
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