Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews and alerts on this story. They mean a lot to me. Please continue to review if you like what I've written. Also, feel free to message me if you have constructive criticism.
I'm still finding writing in first person to be a bit of a challenge. But, I'm having fun with this story, probably because it is such a challenge. I've got the plot outlined in my head, so hopefully it will make its way onto my computer screen rather quickly.
CHAPTER 3
"The men and women of this agency are federal agents, not babysitters, Gibbs."
"I am well aware of that, Leon." Gibbs met the Director's hard look with one of his own. "But I have a seventeen year old witness to the homicide of a marine. She's got a history of running away and has already managed to get away from NCIS once. I have to be out in the field investigating, but I can't take her with me. Nor can I leave her somewhere by herself."
Vance sighed and removed the toothpick from the corner of his mouth. He was a father as well as the director of NCIS. As such, he had to wonder just how much of Gibbs's concern was for Tori herself or because she was a witness he wanted to protect. "Where is she now?"
"With Abby," Gibbs responded. He picked a paper weight up from Vance's desk and studied it. "But, I can't leave her down there all day."
"I'll give you a probationary agent for four hours today, after that you're on your own." The toothpick was returned to its usual position in the corner of Vance's mouth. "Have a couple of your team members set the girl up in one of the safe houses if you have to."
Gibbs nodded and left the office. He was known for playing his emotions close to his vest, and putting Tori in a safe house was the last thing he wanted to do. After reading her file and spending a little time with her, he instinctively knew that if he did that, she would take off again.
XxxxxxX XxxxxxX XxxxxxX
"Abby," I said as I studied the face on the computer screen. It was a pretty good likeness of the guy I saw in the alley, but there was still something off about it. "I really meant what I said earlier about being sorry for running off and taking that money from you." I really did feel bad about it. It was the first time in a long time that my conscious bothered me over something I'd done.
She glanced over at me. The expression on her face indicated that she was a little surprised at my statement. "I know you are, Tori." She put her arm around my shoulder and drew me close in a one-armed hug. "I can't imagine how scared you must have been. I'd be terrified if I were in your shoes." Abby turned back to her computer before continuing. "I meant what I said, too. Gibbs will protect you. He won't let anything happen."
"His eyes need to be closer together and a bit narrower, I think." I watched, fascinated as Abby made the suggested changes to the computer image. She had given me a tour of her lab before we'd settled down to work on the image. I have to admit, I've always been fascinated by computers, so in my opinion, this was perfect. "That's him!"
"Great job," Abby nearly bounced with excitement. "Now, we'll save it and run a facial recognition search on it." She stood and motioned for me to follow her into the lab.
I pulled up a stool and sat at the counter and watched my new friend work her magic. Soon, I was lost in my own thoughts, which were circling around to the young girl's bedroom I had found the night before.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked, tentatively. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know the answer to my question.
"Sure," she responded, giving me a reassuring smile. There was something about her that really made me feel at ease.
"How well do you know Gibbs?"
The confusion was evident on her face and in her voice. "I suppose I know him as well as anyone does. He doesn't share a lot about himself, even with those he's close to. Why?" she asked somewhat skeptically.
"I poked around his house a bit last night," I said and related to her what I had discovered. "Do you know whose bedroom that was? Did Gibbs have a daughter?"
I could tell by the expression on her face that she hadn't been expecting that question. I couldn't tell if she surprised that the bedroom existed or that I'd found it.
"Well, um . . . ," she started. She was interrupted when one of her machines dinged. I'm sure she was relieved to be saved by the bell, because Abby quickly moved to review the results.
"Gibbs will be walking in here any minute," she said, almost to herself. "I've got something, and he always shows up when I've got something."
"How does he know you've got something?" I asked.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when he strode into the room. "It's one of my secret powers." He handed one of the fountain drinks he held to me. I took an experimental sip and discovered it was a coke. He held onto the other cup. At least he wasn't completely opposed to me consuming caffeine and sugar.
"Are you going to make me ask?"
"Would I do that to you, my silver-haired fox?" Abby teased as she pulled test results up onto one of the computer monitors. "I've identified the substance that was on Gunnery Sergeant Wilson's clothing. I found it on the fly and waist band of his pants and on the cuffs of his shirt sleeves. It's," she glanced in my direction before continuing carefully, "a personal lubricant sold under the brand name Wet Lubes Body Glide."
I couldn't help myself. "So your dead marine was astro livin', huh? Maybe that's what got him killed."
If the look Gibbs gave me was anything to go by, he hadn't appreciated my input. I'm not even sure he knows what it means. I'm sure if he did, I'd have gotten a whole lot more than a dirty look. Abby sure did, though, if her blush was anything to go by. I just shrugged and gave him my most innocent look. "What?" You'd be surprised at the vocabulary I've picked up during my time on the streets, and most of it isn't exactly fit for polite conversation. Believe me, that particular phrase is something that would have had my mom washing my mouth out with industrial strength soap.
Gibbs's glare hardened a little before he looked away to study the computer monitor where the facial recognition search was running. "How's that going?"
"I'm running it through a couple of law enforcement databases. Hopefully, I'll have something . . . ." She was interrupted by a ding from the computer as the search paused and settled on one particular image. "Right about now," she said cheekily.
Gibbs moved in to examine the information displayed on the monitor. "Darron Wade, last known address here in D.C." He turned to Abby and handed her the other fountain drink and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. "Good job."
Flipping open his cell phone, he ordered whoever was on the other end to issue an APB for Darron Wade. "I'm going to be in the field for the next few hours with McGee, going through Wilson's apartment and checking out . . ." he paused, as though considering his words carefully. "The establishment where he may have had a second job." He turned to pin me with a hard look. "Agent Dorneget will be down to get you in about half an hour. You are to stay with him and do whatever he tells you until I get back. Understood?"
Damn, I thought. I'd hoped to be able to spend the day with Abby. "Yes, sir," I answered quickly. Hey, nobody ever said I was a dummy, I knew exactly what response he was expecting.
"I hope you do, because if you try and pull anything while I'm gone, you will sorely regret it." Did he really have to emphasize the word sorely? Like I had any doubt as to his meaning. I may have been in Gibbs's custody for less than twenty-four hours, but believe me, I've got him pegged. Turning to Abby, he instructed, "get that information to Tony, McGee, and Ziva," before turning to walk out of the lab.
"Astro lubing?" Abby grinned. "Where exactly did you learn that phrase?"
I grinned back and shrugged. "You hear things living on the streets. Did you see his face when I said it?" I asked on a laugh.
"Yeah, I thought your ass was toast," Abby responded as she took a drink of her Caff-Pow. "I know you haven't known him long, but Gibbs doesn't tolerate much foolishness."
Yeah, I'd noticed that about him already.
"Abby," I said, wanting to turn the topic back to the question I hadn't had answered. "Do you know something about that bedroom?"
She sighed and placed her Caff-Pow on the nearby work bench before pulling up a stool to sit across from me. "Gibbs doesn't talk much about his past. I only found out about it a few years ago." Abby ran her hand over one of her pigtails, as if she were attempting to soothe herself or center her thoughts. "A long time ago, his wife, Shannon, and his daughter, Kelly, were killed. She was eight years old."
Damn, I thought. Well, that could explain the room and why he was so grumpy.
Abby was prevented from commenting further when an older man in a lab coat entered the lab. "Good morning, Abby. I have some samples from an unattended death on which I need you to run toxicology." He stopped short when he spotted me. "You must be the young lady I've been hearing so much about."
"Oh, hi, Ducky," Abby said cheerfully as she jumped down from her stool. "This is Tori. Tori, please meet Dr. Mallard."
"Hello, Dr. Mallard," I said as I stood and held out my hand. Like I said, I know my manners. I just choose when and where to use them.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Tori. Please, call me Ducky, everyone does."
XxxxxxX XxxxxxX XxxxxxX
Tony and Ziva easily passed through the security post at the entrance to Quantico, pausing only to obtain directions to the ammunition supply post. They continued in silence for a few minutes before Tony spoke.
"You know, I bet handing out bullets for a living isn't what Gunnery Sergeant Wilson had in mind when he enlisted in the marines. I mean, can you get any more boring than that?"
Ziva turned slightly in her seat to look at her partner. "You think that might be why he went looking for something a little more . . .," she paused for effect, "exciting?"
"Well, I guess that's what we're here to find how, isn't it, Zee-Va." Tony emphasized the two syllables of her name, simply because he knew it irritated her.
Tony parked in front of the gate to the armory. When another guard came to request they move their vehicle, both he and Ziva showed their badges.
"What can I do for NCIS?"
"You can tell us if you know Gunnery Sergeant Nathan Wilson, Lance Corporal . . . ," Ziva paused to read the man's name tag, "Conley."
"Not really, ma'am." Lance Corporal Conley shook his head. "I knew him to say hello, but that was about it." A confused look crossed his face as he switched his gaze from Ziva to Tony and back. "Is he in trouble?"
"You could say that. Where would we find his commanding officer?"
"That would be Warrant Officer Joshi Gopinathan. This time of day, he's probably in his office." The lance corporal gestured to the entrance behind him. "Down the hall, third door on your right, then second door on your left."
Tony nodded and started through the door. Ziva paused a moment and dug a business card out of her backpack. "If you think of anything that might be of use to us, please give me a call."
"I don't care if J. Edgar Hoover comes back from the dead and asks you to hand him ammo without logging it out, you don't do it. Every single bullet that passes through this supply post must be accounted for. Is that understood?" Tony and Ziva heard the shouting well before they reached the warrant officer's doorway. They weren't able to hear the other person's reply, which only piqued their curiosity. They approached the open doorway and saw a stocky man of Indian descent towering over a petite blonde woman.
Tony cleared his throat at about the same moment that Ziva knocked on the door frame.
"What do you want?" The man demanded as he looked in their direction.
"Warrant Officer Joshi Gopinathan?" Tony asked, holding up his badge.
"Yes, sir. I repeat, what do you want?"
"We need to speak with you regarding Gunnery Sergeant Nathan Wilson," Tony stated as he and Ziva entered the room. "In private."
"Dismissed, PFC Walker." The woman saluted and, glancing in the direction of the two NCIS agents, turned to leave. She didn't release the breath she'd been holding until she was outside in the hallway. When she first spotted the agents, she'd been afraid they were there regarding her recent screw-up. Now, she was curious as to why they wanted to talk to the warrant officer regarding Nathan. But, she was already in enough trouble, and getting caught eavesdropping wouldn't help matters any, so she hurried back to her duty station.
"Gunnery Sergeant Wilson isn't here. This is his day off." Warrant Officer Gopinathan rounded his desk and sat.
"I wouldn't expect him to report to duty anytime soon," Ziva stated as she shared a look with Tony.
"What do you mean?"
"What my partner was trying to put delicately is that Gunnery Sergeant Nathan Wilson is dead," Tony stated matter of factly.
"Dead?" the warrant officer demanded as he rose back to his feet. "When? What happened?"
"When was the last time you saw him?" Tony asked, ignoring the other man's questions.
"At the end of his shift three days ago, around fourteen hundred hours."
"Do you know any reason why he would have been in the warehouse district of Arlington?" Ziva asked, as she moved to look at the plaques hanging on the far wall. She turned back, waiting for his answer.
"Is that where he died?"
Tony related the bare facts of Gunnery Sergeant Wilson's death. "Now answer the question."
Warrant Officer Gopinathan returned to his seat behind the desk. "I don't know a lot about his private life. He didn't share much about it with me," he said as he gestured vaguely in the direction of the ammunition supply room. "He may have talked more with his co-workers. But, I do know that he's been dating a woman who is a dancer at some club in Arlington. He's been moonlighting as a bouncer there for the last few months."
"You know the name of the club?" Tony asked. His radar was starting to go off.
"Yeah, I think it was Club Doom or something ridiculous like that."
Ziva and Tony exchanged a look. This just confirmed the information they had gleaned from the gunnery sergeant's financial records.
"We'll need to speak with Wilson's co-workers," Tony stated.
"Of course." The other man stood and stepped around the agents. "This way."
TBC
