Lt. Colonel Hollis Mann was waiting for Agents Gibbs and McGee in the lobby of the Army Criminal Investigative Division, saving them the hassle of having to sign in and wait for an escort. "Where's Kelly?" were the first words out of her mouth.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Good to see you, too, Holly," he said dryly. Colonel Mann rolled her eyes and headed back toward her office without another word.
"Man, I wish Tony and Ziva were here," McGee muttered under his breath as he followed the two senior investigators.
"Care to tell me what's going on?" Gibbs asked after Mann closed the office door. She sighed.
"I told you already. Staff Sergeant McLaughlin was found last night outside NNMC with a single gunshot wound, center of the forehead. It didn't take long to determine he was dead, and they called us."
"And then you should have called us," Gibbs pointed out. "We've had this situation before. The base the crime is committed on trumps who the dead guy belongs to. NCIS should be the lead on this and you know it."
"I was going to call you, before we found this in his coat pocket." Mann picked up the remote to the projector, revealing a display of a document, an email, judging from the header. "Obviously, I had to check out why our victim had an email in his pocket from Ensign Gibbs before calling Agent Gibbs to lead the investigation."
Gibbs ignored her jibe, quickly scanning the short email with a frown. "Kelly didn't write this," he said bluntly. Both Mann and McGee frowned.
"Um, Boss?" McGee finally said. "How do you know?"
"Because Kelly had dinner with her boyfriend last night," he said slowly, as if explaining to a child. He turned back to the email and shook his head. "She hasn't done a rotation at Bethesda in twelve weeks, and I don't even know the last time she was at USUHS, so she'd have no reason to be on base. And, she hasn't spoken to McLaughlin in more than six years. She wouldn't email him out of the blue and say she wanted to talk, because there's nothing to talk about."
Mann sighed. "Gibbs, if this were anyone but your daughter—,"
"She's being set up, Holly," he interrupted. "And I intend to find out by who." He stood to leave, gesturing for McGee to do the same.
"Sit down," Mann said forcefully. Gibbs stopped, but didn't return to his seat. "Sit," she repeated. McGee's eyes went from his boss to his boss' former girlfriend, waiting to see who would win. Finally, Gibbs sat.
"I want to find out who did this," Mann said after a long, silent battle of the wills. "And I'm not going to do a half-assed job on this investigation just because your daughter is involved. Now, you play along and help us, or you can stay out of the way." Gibbs didn't reply, but kept his gaze locked on hers, his face expressionless. "I'm offering to keep you in the loop, Gibbs," Mann said.
"I want my team involved," Gibbs finally said, his first sign of assenting. Mann was about to protest, but then realized that this would be the only way of getting NCIS's help at all. She nodded slowly.
"I'll make the arrangements." Gibbs just nodded in reply, again rising from his chair and heading for the door. This time, Colonel Mann did nothing to stop him.
After using her father's computer to check her email and confirm that her grade from her last rotation wasn't yet posted, Kelly Gibbs was bored. She contemplated giving Caiden Dillon, her boyfriend since her senior year at the Naval Academy, a call, but remembered that he was scheduled to be in the flight simulator all afternoon. She sighed in frustration, leaning back in her father's chair and staring at the ceiling and wishing there were someone around she could at least talk to.
She suddenly straightened inthe chair, a smile tugging at her lips as she remembered that there were people around she could talk to. Without a second glance back in the bullpen, she first stopped by the communal coffee pot for a refill before making her way toward the elevator.
Abby Sciuto danced around on her ridiculously high-heeled boots as she recalibrated her mass spectrometer, thankful that she had enough time between cases to take care of that task. "I know, Major Mass Spec," she said, closing the lid on the machine and entering the calibration commands. "You are a highly tuned piece of equipment who doesn't get the attention you deserve. You know, I feel like that too, sometimes." She paused at the ding of the elevator, a large grin spreading across her lips as the smell of coffee wafted toward her. There was only one person who would come down to the lab unannounced like that, and he always smelled like coffee.
"I hope you brought something for me, Gibbs," she said, her back to the entrance of the lab as she checked her computer. "Because I have spent the last three hours sterilizing and recalibrating the equipment, and now my army and I are ready to go."
"Sorry, Abby," an amused female voice answered. "Wrong Gibbs."
"Mini Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed, turning to engulf the young woman in a large hug. "It is so good to see you! When did you get back?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Kelly replied with a laugh as Abby finally released her. "I was going to see if my dad wanted to grab dinner tonight, but then he ran off on a case." She took a seat on one of the high lab stools Abby had scattered around her space but never seemed to use, studying her surroundings as she took a sip of coffee. She was no stranger to the lab; as a chemistry major at the Naval Academy, she spent her summers doing forensics research with Abby's guidance. She was pleased—and strangely saddened—to find that little had changed over the years.
"I can't believe he made you stick around here," Abby said, making a face. "That is so freakish-overprotective father of him. You should have told him that you're an adult and you're more than capable of taking care of yourself without his help."
Ensign Gibbs grinned at the forensics scientist. "It isn't that at all," she assured her. "I think he's keeping me here to keep me from being snatched up as a suspect. The case they're working on is a murdered Army sergeant outside NNMC. The sergeant is my high school boyfriend."
"Oh," Abby said with a grimace. "That does not look good for you."
Gibbs shrugged a shoulder. "I haven't talked to the guy since high school graduation, so I'm sure any suggestions that I'm involved would be short-lived. Do you need any help getting the lab ready?"
"No, I got it," Abby replied, giving the medical student a trademark grin. "You can tell me about Hawaii. That would keep me entertained."
Gibbs laughed, feeling much better about coming into NCIS. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed spending time with her father's co-workers. "Did you get my postcard?" she asked as she pulled a packet of surgical suture from her pocket. "There really wasn't much more to it than that. I spent most of time in the hospital, delivering babies and trying to avoid bitchy OB/GYN residents." She opened the sutures, absently pulling the needle through the fabric of her pant leg before popping it off and expertly tying surgical knots with the strings. Since she wanted to go into surgery after graduation, she always carried sutures with her to practice her knots. She had the two-handed knot down, and was still working on perfecting her one-handed technique.
"Oh, my God," Abby blurted out when she turned to face Gibbs. "What happened to your finger?"
Kelly stopped what she was doing and held up her left hand, showing off the aluminum and foam splint on her forefinger. "Yet another example of why I needed to avoid bitchy residents," she said bitterly. "One sliced my finger in the OR, and then had the gall to offer to sew it up herself. I told her if she ever touched me again, I'd charge her with assault."
"It's a good thing you're right-handed," Abby commented. Kelly shook her head.
"But I shoot left-handed," she reminded her. Abby's eyes went wide. Kelly was a competitive riflist, one of the best in the world. She won national championships in high school and college, consistently made the President's Hundred every year, and earned the bronze medal at the Olympics more than three years before. Her left index finger had more talent than some small nations.
"Is it going to be okay?" Abby asked in wonder. Gibbs waved aside the concern.
"It was repaired by the head hand surgeon at Tripler, who prescribed a strict regimen for my rehab, which would have made me laugh if it weren't so sad. I mean, who ever heard of physical therapy for a finger?" She glanced down at the splint and sighed. "Just don't tell my dad, okay? I don't want him to freak out about it." She gave a small grin. "I was trying to hide my hand from him earlier. I think he thinks I'm engaged or something. He was starting to look worried."
Abby grinned at the thought. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." She pressed her lips close together and ran her fingers over them as if zipping them closed. "So," she said, turning back toward her computer. "Hawaii."
Kelly laughed at Abby's persistence. "You don't even like warm weather and sunshine," she pointed out.
"But you do," Abby replied. "Which meant it should have been a lot of fun. Well, a lot of fun for you. I would have hated it."
Kelly laughed again. "Like I said, it was all pretty dull, until Caiden visited for a week." She saw the raised eyebrows and 'tell me more' look on Abby's face. "And you can't that to my dad, either," she said quickly. Abby just grinned.