Chapter Two

- - - - -

Tim and Tony worked quietly at their desks that day, lying low, both silently praying for a new case that would take them out of the building. Word was that the Director was on the warpath, intent on finding the person who'd spread the secret of Michelle's underwear. Ziva gave Tim and Tony curious looks, obviously wondering what had them cowed. Gibbs looked like he was ready to become Deputy Leader of the warpath, and on the verge of head-slapping both of them.

He couldn't know, could he? Tony and Tim wondered. How could he know?

When lunchtime came, Tim and Tony were only too glad to flee for the safety of McDonalds. "You don't see Palmer, do you?" Tony asked sourly. "We wouldn't be in this trouble if it weren't for him."

" 'We'?? There is no 'we' in this, Tony!" Tim sputtered.

Tony gave him a sideways stare, and then sighed.

- - - - -

Jimmy was a little late coming into work that day, and didn't bother waiting for the elevator. Instead, he rushed down the stairs into Autopsy, an apology ready on his lips. In fact, he murmured as he ran out of the stairwell. "I'm sorry, Doctor Mallard; the Metro stalled again at—AWK!" as his arm was seized, pulling him off balance.

"Jimmy Palmer!" a voice he knew well hissed at him.

"Michelle! Oh, hi! How was the Pentagon?"

"Don't you act innocent with me, Blabbermouth Boy! We have some talking to do!" She shoved him into the elevator, which had obligingly just arrived at their level.

"Blab—what??"

Ducky stepped out as they fell in. "Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Palmer! Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, but I'm sure you got right to—" He watched the elevator door close, and the two young people head off for parts unknown. "—work?"

- - - - -

"Michelle, what are you doing?? Where are we going?? I'm late for work as it is!" Jimmy tried reaching for the button bank, but Michelle stubbornly blocked his way. She'd already pressed the button for the third floor.

"Do you know how many ways of killing a man they taught us at FLETC?" Michelle snarled.

"Uh…no?"

"Well, I don't remember now. But it was a lot! And it only takes one way, if you do it right the first time!" She briefly flashed back on some of her (many) unsuccessful attempts on war dummies.

The elevator dinged and opened at the third floor. Michelle yanked Jimmy out of the car; she was much stronger than her small size would suggest. Jimmy finally realized that he was in trouble, of some sort. "I did something wrong? What did I do wrong?" he asked nervously. He wasn't frightened of Michelle—though sometimes he thought he should be—but it was not in his nature to unintentionally upset anyone.

"Hush!" she snapped. "Not out here in the open! We'll find a vacant room and then I'll give you a piece of my mind!"

"Ah…okay…"

"Blasted air-conditioning!" she mumbled. "It's all screwy on this floor. The repair guys still haven't come. That's why so many offices have doors propped open, so their workers don't die…Oh, good. This looks like a likely spot."

An unmarked door, no doubt the back door to some office, was open, revealing the darkness inside. Michelle shoved at Jimmy's frame—a little harder than pulling him by the arm—and pushed him inside.

Only glows from a few always-on monitors were visible to them. Michelle faced Jimmy down, even though she could barely see him. "All right, mister. They've been talking about me all over this building, and it's all YOUR fault! I'll have you know that it's NO ONE'S BUSINESS what underwear I wear—even if I do think my animal prints are sexy as hell and look fantastic on me! So even if I wear them for you, WHY do YOU think you have any right to go blabbing about my TIGER-PATTERNED BRAS, and—"

"Excuse me!" A few lights flicked on, revealing the Director, Gibbs, the SECNAV, the head of MTAC, and the various other people that usually worked here. In this main communications room of MTAC.

Screaming, Michelle ran back out through the dark corridor; Jimmy right behind her.

"Who was that?" asked the SECNAV.

Gibbs looked pensive. "DiNozzo and McGee, I think."

- - - - -

Michelle shoved Jimmy into a smaller room, and this time, shoved the door closed and turned on the light. The room was empty.

"Okay, now spill!" she spat at him. "Why were you telling the world about—"

"Slow down, Michelle. I get the point," Jimmy said, his head aching. "I didn't go telling everyone about your underwear. Someone must have. But it wasn't me."

Her quick, legal-trained mind picked up on the loophole. "You say you didn't tell everyone. Does that mean you told someone??"

"Uh…ah…" he gasped, and edged toward the door.

"Jimmy!!"

"It was just Tony and McGee!!" he cried, frightened and ashamed now. "Just guy talk. We were just goofing around. I'm sure they would never…"

"They would never?? Jimmy, if he had the contacts, DiNozzo would have gotten it on the 6:00 news!!"

"Um…well…"

"You are unbelievable! Do you know how humiliating this is for me??"

"I didn't…"

"No, you didn't stop to think! That's pretty obvious. Well, you know what, Jimmy? We're through!" She stormed out of the room, deaf to his cries of apology.

- - - - -

By chance Michelle ran into Tim in the third-floor break room at afternoon break. He had been sent to the Director's office on a long errand, and didn't see the need of going to the second floor just for a can of Diet Coke when he could get one closer by. "McGee," she nodded at him.

"Uh, hi, Michelle." Tim's usual conversational fallback with a woman was to remark on how nice she looked. (And the comment would be that she did indeed look nice.) But he was afraid that wasn't appropriate today, given…

Her mind was still on Jimmy. She didn't doubt that they were indeed through, though her mind kept going back to him. "Hi," she said back, without expression.

"You, ah…you did great on that Oleando case recently," he said, after a frantic search of his mind turned up nothing much else in his mental folder labeled Michelle Lee, the shortest agent in NCIS. That and the thought, She's so cute!

"Oh…thank you!" she said, looking up with a half smile. "Just a little bit of legal digging and sleuthing. I'm glad it helped you guys catch the perp."

"Thanks to you. Um…I was wondering…if you're not doing anything this Saturday…would you like to--?"

Her smile turned to a grin as she waited for him to finish the sentence.

"—er, I was thinking maybe you'd like dinner? And a show? Do you like the theatre?"

"I love it! But, McGee—Tim—don't spend that much money. I'd be happy going to the movies."

It was his turn to grin. "I think I have your address. I'll pick you up at 6."

- - - - -

Tony was worried. There wasn't much about being in the NCIS building that worried him, but sometimes worry followed him, like a mangy dog.

He knew the symptoms: Gibbs had him in his sights. Gibbs watched him every time he got up and every time he sat down. He watched when Tony left for lunch and when he left for the men's room. I did something. He suspects it. And he's not going to let me go until I confess, or he decides he knows what I've done.

No, he can't know. He still has that look of suspicion; not accusation…

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs hissed. "What do you know about…"

" Leopard-skin prints? Nothing!!"

- - - - -

He wasn't the only one who felt he was being watched. Jimmy was used to the doctor's close scrutiny of his work—and he didn't mind that; he'd rather get it right from the start—but this was more like a scrutiny of his soul.

"Is, uh, is something on your mind, Dr. Mallard?" he finally ventured, slightly appalled at his forwardness.

Ducky blinked, also a little surprised. "Well, uh, that is, about this matter of Agent Lee's underwear being all over the building…no, I mean the rumors about it being all over the building…no, that's still not right. Let me try again—"

"Doctor, I know what you mean…"

"You do? Oh, that's good," Ducky sighed. "So I take it that that piece or two of undergarments found here in Autopsy may have belonged to Agent Lee?"

Jimmy stammered and tried to look perplexed, while wishing he would be summoned away for something, and right now.

"No, I don't understand it, either," said Ducky. "But if someone if spread rumors about it, then they may have been the same malicious souls who have stolen her garments and left them in here."

"I'm—I'm sure you're right, Doctor."

"Well, at least as far as the rumors go, maybe bringing this out in the open will stop the brassieres from flying all over the place. There's no call for that in a place of business."

"Um, yes, Doctor," Jimmy said sadly. In his ears he heard again Michelle saying, We're through!

Their relationship had started out being just lust. Now, though, he realized that it was sliding toward something more personal, something intoxicating, something that made his soul sing and his heart flutter every time he saw her. He was afraid to say it out loud. Was it what people called love?

And now it was all his fault, and he couldn't call his foolish words back. It was too late. He was a sorry, sorry man.