Park Ranger Guy

Today runner guy came in about an hour before dusk. I wasn't worried, he knows the opening and closing times and he could probably hop over the fence if he was locked in. Not that I'd encourage that sort of thing. I carried on tidying up the play areas and collected a teddy from inside one of the funnels. I hoped there wasn't a house filled with a child's tears that night but I'd keep it safe until an anxious mom visited tomorrow. It's all part of the job.

I was just thinking about locking the main gate when I realised I hadn't heard runner guy trot past. He didn't usually cut it fine so I paused at the entrance to the play area and looked back down the path he had jogged down some time before. Like I said, I could have locked the gate and let him find his own way out but something was telling me that was a bad idea. I hesitated but then decided to go look for him. I locked the main gate before I went, no point in letting more people in and then I grabbed a flashlight from my cabin and walked in the direction he'd gone.

I'm a professional and it's difficult to switch off from observing so I couldn't help but be pleased at how the park looked as I walked along. I'd had a team of students in that day and they'd cleared a lot of the undergrowth away. They'd made a good job of it and they'd enjoyed using the sickles and scythes. They're more used to using electric equipment but their teacher thinks it's good for them to get more 'hands on' sometimes.

I know the park like the back of my hand. No, let's say I know it well, I'm not sure I'd recognise the back of my hand in a crowd. So, I know the park well so I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I suddenly found myself flying through the air. Once I'd landed, and checked that I was still in one piece, I looked round to see what had tripped me and realised that it was a rake. I didn't recognise it. I might not recognise the back of my hand but I know the park's tools and this wasn't one of them. It looked as if the students had left some of their gear behind. I stowed it to one side, it could join the teddy bear later.

I carried on walking and then, in the still of the gathering gloom, heard a moan coming from the trees.

Runner Guy

We're halfway through a case but there's nothing more we can do until tomorrow so Gibbs eventually, and grudgingly, let us go.

"Keep your phones with you," he ordered as a parting shot.

I hadn't expected to be out so early so the evening was a social vacuum but, on the bright side, it meant that I could fit a run in before it got dark. I might end up getting locked in but I've jumped over the fence before now. Obviously not conduct befitting a federal agent but when the federal agent works for Gibbs sometimes these things happen.

Park Ranger guy was there when I got there and we exchanged our usual nods before I decided to take one of my shorter routes. It goes along by the river and I like to get the smell of the water even if it was getting too dark to see any boats … sorry, ships. I tried to clear my mind of the case as I ran.

Sometimes I find that if I empty my brain (which doesn't take long according to my esteemed co-workers) an answer to a problem pops in. I guess it's something about getting rid of your assumptions and starting again. Take this case, the victim's co-worker wears a fake leather jacket and somehow that's turned me against him. It doesn't fit well either. Now, I know that neither of those things means he's an arch criminal but I don't trust him even though he's got a solid alibi. And the victim was married so there's a wife I could be suspecting instead but my mind keeps going back to that jacket. I mean it's not even a good fake. So, I wanted to run because I needed to see things differently. Gibbs has intimidated a few judges in his time but I don't think he's going to use his superpowers to get a search authorisation just because I don't like a guy's clothes. Gibbs' gut is probably saying he's above suspicion because he wears cheap stuff.

So all this was going round in my brain and I might not have been concentrating fully when I saw something shiny on the ground in front of me. Something sharp and shiny so I tried an athletic leap over it and somehow managed to mistime it. The next thing I knew I was tumbling down a slope. Strange, when I was a kid I loved rolling down hills especially if the grass had just been cut. It doesn't have so much appeal when you're twice as tall and more than twice the weight. Or when your somersaulting is stopped by a tree.

DiNozzos don't pass out but even they can be knocked out when their head meets a solid object in an aggressive manner. That's what happened. McGee would probably say that at least I didn't get hit anywhere important. I don't think I was out for long. It takes a lot to squash a DiNozzo but I'll admit to groaning when I came round. It was a manly groan though. Not a wimpy one. And it got attention. Not the sort of attention I wanted: which would surprise my team mates who think I like any attention, something about being a narcissist. Huh!

Anyway, seconds after I groaned I groaned again as a body came tumbling down the hill. It followed the same route I had taken but avoided hitting the tree because my muscular, well-toned body (I can dream, can't I?) stopped its passage. So, like I said, I groaned again. And it was like an echo because my new companion moaned too. It was Park Ranger guy.

"Hey!" I said. And I might have sounded a bit cross. After all park rangers are meant to be there to look after people not use them as buffers as they career down hills. They might even swear an oath about it. And if they don't they should introduce one. I'm going to write to my congressman about it.

"Hey to you," said Park Ranger guy.

Life and work have equipped me to deal with most situations but I confess I was at a bit of a loss this time. My instinct was to say 'hey' again but that didn't likely to move things forward much and I was getting a bit uncomfortable squashed between a tree and a park ranger.

"What happened?" I said. Not the most brilliant opening gambit and not up to my usual dazzling standards but it had been a long day which wasn't ending very well.

"I don't know what happened to you," came the reply, "but I fell down the hill."

It's probably as well that it was pretty dark; that meant that Park Ranger guy couldn't see the glare I directed towards him.

"That's what happened to me as well," I admitted. "Someone left something that looked dangerous on the path. I swerved to avoid it and next thing I knew I was practising somersaults and getting up close and personal with a tree."

"It's an oak," said Ranger guy, "Quercus Alba, to be precise. You didn't damage it, did you?"

I admit it. I groaned again.

"Hey, you're not hurt are you?" asked Ranger guy with what I feel was a somewhat delayed concern.

"No," I said with a touch of sarcasm, "I like rolling down hills and smashing into Quercus albes."

"Alba," he corrected.

"Or them," I said testily. "I thought there was a law against littering in parks."

"There is," said Ranger guy a little stiffly.

"Then who left lethal weapons lying round?" I demanded.

"Students," said my companion, "they were learning how to use sickles and scythes."

"Then they need to learn how to tidy up after themselves," I said crossly.

"They will," he said ominously, "oh, believe me, they will."

I felt a bit mollified by his reply, "Good, Chris," I said, "and if you need any help getting the lesson across, let me know. I carry a gun, you know, it's amazing how that helps people learn."

"How d'you know my name?" asked Ranger guy.

"You wear a name badge, Chris," I said, "and I have to say that Chris Parkes is a bit of a cliché for someone who works where you do."

Ranger guy ignored this in favour of another question, "why do you carry a gun, Runner guy?"

"It's my job. I'm a federal agent. And what do you mean, Runner guy?"

"That's what I call you. As you don't wear a name badge."

"Oh. OK. I'm Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. I'd shake your hand but I think I may have broken my arm. Again."

"I've had first aid training," said Chris with a slightly worrying enthusiasm, "let me see."

It turns out that DiNozzos do pass out sometimes. Usually when park rangers grab hold of our broken arms.

Park Ranger guy

On reflection it probably wasn't a good idea to reach for Runner guy, sorry, Tony's arm when I couldn't see what I was doing. It had got darker since he'd broken my fall and I was more shaken than I'd realised. Still, I should have known better and it gave me a shock when he gave this little groan and slumped against Quercus Alba. I fished in my pocket for my flash light but soon found that it had survived the fall even less well than Special Agent Runner guy. I was just considering what to do next when Tony spoke,

"Don't do that again. Ever."

I was so relieved that he was still alive that I decided to overlook the irritation in his voice. And, to be fair, he probably had a point.

"Sorry," I said.

"OK," he gasped, "you meant well. I guess." There was silence for a moment or two. I thought about pointing out that I could hear a Blackcapped Chickadee singing its going-to-bed song but decided against it. I wasn't sure that Tony was in the mood for nature study.

"This is fun," said Tony, "but my Boss won't be happy if he finds me laying down on the job. Let's get out of here." There was another of his groans and he fell back into the oak tree again. I made a mental note to come back in daylight and check it wasn't damaged.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Ankle," he hissed, "I don't think I'm making it up that hill."

"We can walk round," I suggested, "There's a pathway runs along the river. About two miles."

Tony's answering groan (and he had an impressive range) suggested what he thought of that idea.

"I'll go," I said and I reached out gently to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. "You're freezing," I said.

"I didn't really dress for sitting outside," he said tensely.

I shrugged off my heavy jacket and held it out to him. Tony jerked back instinctively, "You're not putting that on me," he said worriedly. I realised that he had pictured me forcing his damaged arm through the sleeve. I guess I hadn't done much to make him trust me.

"No," I agreed, "here, put it round you." I had to help him but we managed in the end.

"Thanks," he said. I think he was warming to me. "Ouch," he said as I fell on him. In the awkwardness of getting to know Runner guy I hadn't noticed that my ankle also felt odd. It might be a few days before I get round to checking on Quercus. "Do you want your coat back?" said Tony politely but reluctantly.

"Keep it," I said, trying to concentrate on riding out the waves of pain coming from my ankle.

"Hey," he said, "why don't we just phone for help?"

"Right," I said.

"Um," he said, "I can't reach my pocket. Wrong side for my arm. Can you get my phone out?"

I wasn't sure this was in my job description but I agreed and spent a couple of minutes getting to know him rather better than I wanted. It seemed a long time since he had just been Runner guy. And it was a waste of time. I hoped Quercus was in better shape than Tony's phone which was never going to work again.

"Have you got a phone? Or a radio?" asked Tony hopefully.

I did but it also hadn't survived the fall. I resolved to buy a sturdier one.

"Have you got a flare?" asked Tony.

"Flair for what?" I asked, "I'm good at bird identification and good at trees. But I'm not sure that's much use at the moment."

I heard Tony take a deep breath. He may even have counted to ten. "A flare," he repeated, "you know, a signal flare."

"Why would I have one of those?" I asked.

"Because you're a park ranger," he said as if it was obvious.

"In DC," I said, "not in the wilds. Why would I need a flare?"

"I thought you might have one of those utility belts," he said a little sulkily.

"I'm not Batman," I said and I admit I may have said it a little curtly. I soon relented, "though it would be cool," I said.

"I'll add it to my list of recommendations when I write to my congressman," said Tony.

"What else are you going to suggest?" I asked almost despite myself. I hadn't know the guy long and I was already getting sucked in to his way of thinking.

"I'm going to suggest that they introduce some sort of oath for park rangers," he said.

I paused to digest this but didn't have time to answer before he spoke again, "hey." I realised that I was beginning to dread him saying that. "Hey," he said, "why don't we light a fire?"

"A fire?" I exclaimed.

"Sure," he said, "To keep warm."

"A fire? In the park?"

"Why not?"

"It's against regulations," I said, "Do you know the damage a fire could cause in the park?"

"More damage that two frozen bodies might cause?" he said bitterly.

"And anyway, it's impossible," I said.

"I've got matches," he said.

I frowned at that. Why was he bringing matches to jog in the park? Perhaps he wasn't such a good guy after all. "Why do you have matches?" I asked.

"I needed some for my apartment," he said, "I bought them before I came in," he seemed to sense my distrust, "don't worry, I don't always bring them. I don't want to burn your park down."

"Hmm," I said, "but we still can't light a fire. Well, I guess we could. It is an emergency."

"See," said Tony sounding happier than he had since I'd used him as a trampoline.

"But there's no point," I said.

"Why not?" The happiness began to drain away again.

"It won't stay lit. It's beginning to rain."

"Oh." The happiness had gone completely.

AN: the guys were too chatty and demanded another chapter!