AN: I thought I was going over the top... but the response to the last chapter was like nothing I've ever known. Thanks again to Tick, whom I couldn't message, to all those who weren't logged in, and to everyone else who's taken an interest.

Sideways and Forwards

Chapter 4

In the silence after Tim went back to his own desk, Alex sat for a while, taking slow, steadying breaths. Never a dull moment... she tried to lighten her thoughts the way she'd seen her Boss lightening things around him, but she couldn't manage it somehow. Her phone quacked once – a sound chosen by Jasmine – for a message, and she almost dropped it as she fumbled in her haste.

D't worry – just need few min to self. May go talk 2 Ducky. Back soon. A thought – Abby shn't work our cases or Gs right now – poss bias accusations – ask Tim go fix it if G not back – otherwise, tell Jen.

She walked round into the MCRT area, stepping into dangerous territory for the first time since that first morning, trying to focus, and not be thinking of all the things that had happened since. "Tim – Tony thinks it wouldn't be a good idea for Abby to handle that evidence after all," she said apologetically; it had been Tony's request he'd been acting on; "she could be accused of bias if it were ever challenged."

Her opinion of him cranked up another notch as he understood right away. "I'll go see her," he said, and hurried away.

Ziva had been watching, and asked, "Do you know what is happening? Where is Gibbs?"

Alex leaned back on the edge of Tim's desk, feeling suddenly very tired and weak at the knees. "I don't know, Officer David," she said, a little of her anxiety leaking through into her voice. "Tony seemed to think he'd be coming back here." Ziva got to her feet. "If you're going to look for him, it might be easier to stop here until he comes back, or someone tells us something."

"Perhaps... but..."

Alex sighed. "If it's Tony you're going to look for -"

"Why would I be looking for Tony? What has he said?" The nettled tone of the Israeli's voice made Alex sure she'd guessed right.

"He hasn't said anything; he's not a gossip, and neither am I. But you have been trying to find things out about our cases... or something -"

"Have you told him that?"

"No. I said you should ask him yourself, remember. But not right now. He didn't say what had happened – too long for a text I guess – or where Gibbs is, but he did say that he needed a little time to himself, so I think it must have been bad." She looked the other woman in the eyes. "He doesn't want company right now."

Ziva shrugged. "That is ridiculous. Why would he want to hide himself away? I will talk to him and bring him back here, and find out -" She found Alex blocking her way out of the bull pen.

"You don't respect him."

"What do you mean? Of course -"

"You don't respect his wishes... you don't respect him. You don't care how he feels; you just want to know what's going on. So do I, but I can be patient. So must you."

"You are telling me what to do?"

Alex laughed. "Probie versus Mossad... you don't believe it, do you? But my Boss asked for space, and I'm going to see he gets it." Ziva took a step forwards. "Are you going to assault me like Sciuto did him? What is this place coming to?"

"What indeed?" Jenny Sheppard's light voice intervened. "I'm sure Special Agent DiNozzo will be back shortly. I suggested to Agent Gibbs that since he was clearly not feeling too well, he should go home and rest; I've removed the MCRT from the roster over the weekend. In the meantime, I'd like you to tell me what happened here leading up to Special Agent Dominguez' phone call."

Ziva frowned. "Phone call?"

Jenny decided to stop being formal, or this would take all day. "Alex called to alert me that Tony and Gibbs had exchanged words, and disappeared in the direction of the conference rooms, and that it might be of concern to me." She raised an eyebrow and waited for Ziva to speak.

"Ah. Tony and...Special Agent Dominguez had been working on a case that they did not wish anyone else to know about. Abby came up from her lab and was angry that Tony had been investigating it because it was an old case of Gibbs'. She said it should still be his case if new evidence had come to light, and Gibbs agreed. He demanded that Tony should hand it over. Tony said that Abby had gone against his orders to keep it secret, and would not give Gibbs the information; he said if he wanted it then he should follow him; he walked away towards the conference rooms and Gibbs did so."

"So, Abby disregarded my instructions?"

Ziva looked blank.

"Tony and I agreed that the evidence should be handled blind, as we didn't want everyone to know that there were... problems with the case. Apparently the secret is out." Jenny was not pleased.

"I did not know they were investigating under your instructions," Ziva said dubiously.

"And what difference does that make? Now, what did I just hear about an assault?"

Alex didn't want to be a tale teller, but the cameras would have told it anyway. "Abby yelled at Tony all over the bull pen, called him a snake and slapped his face," she told the Director, her tone flat. "He realised she'd ignored his – and your – instructions; Gibbs was listening, and that was when he realised we'd been looking over an old case of his. That's what upset him."

Jenny's expression asked if things could get any worse; Alex thought 'in for a penny'. "She's been putting our tests to the back of the queue, because Gibbs has asked her to. It makes our work a little slow. I'm sorry, but Tony won't tell you, and I thought you should know." She hunted for a crumb of good news. "He messaged me to say he thought she shouldn't look at the evidence now, for Gibbs' sake. If it were ever challenged she could be accused of bias. Tim went down to the lab to warn her not to start on it."

"Good," Jenny said thoughtfully. "Thank you." She didn't say what was going through her mind– that it was a good job the person under the most pressure here was the one thinking on his feet – things were fraught enough as it was.

Alex couldn't contain her anxiety. "Is... is Gibbs all right? Is Tony all right?"

"I've spoken to Gibbs, but not to Tony." She sighed. "What I said to him has to remain between him and me unless he decides otherwise. He has to do some thinking. Now it seems I need to speak to Miss Sciuto..." The Director headed towards the elevator, with winds of change that nobody really wanted, but were reaching gale force anyway, blowing round her ears.

She'd closed the door after Tony had hurried past her; Gibbs had gone straight on the attack.

"'Jen'? Since when have you and DiNozzo got that cosy?"

"None of your business. And if you'd been more observant since you came back you wouldn't be asking a question like that." She almost laughed at the expression on his face. "Is that the slant you're putting on it? That I was bedding DiNozzo while you were away? Credit him with a bit more professionalism than that, Jethro, even if you won't credit me!"

She folded her arms, willing herself to let the insult slide off her, and leaned against the door. He took a step towards her and then hesitated.

"Think again, Jethro... you're going to stand there and listen. You know if you lay a finger on me you'll be on a charge of assault – which you still will be if that's what Tony wants."

"He wouldn't do that -" Gibbs began, and brought himself up short.

"Yes, Jethro? He wouldn't do that because...?" Gibbs didn't answer. "He wouldn't do that to you, that's what you were going to say, yes? You really can't bear to say something good about him, can you?"

"Aahh.. he just wants the moral high ground."

"And that's why I asked him to look at the Lishman case, of course, so he could stand up there and sneer down on you. Why are you giving me stuff that you know yourself is rubbish? He's the only one I could be certain wouldn't do that." She paused. "Did you see he stuck his hands in his pockets when you had him against the wall? You might have hit him if I hadn't arrived, but he wouldn't have hit you! There's your moral high ground, Jethro! What's got into you? What's Tony done to provoke the way you've been acting towards him?"

"He quit!"

"You're still talking rubbish – listen to yourself! You quit – he held them all together until you decided you couldn't stay away, and you started on him before you even took your team back."

"You been listening to gossip, Jen?"

"About as much as you've been listening to me. D'you think the likes of David Marchetti and Dr. Mallard are only as credible as the mail room? I offered Tony Rota – he wouldn't leave DC because he wouldn't leave you and the team. Since it was clear you didn't want him, I gave him the cold case position, until something better came along. You damn well know he's worth something better."

Gibbs said nothing, and the Director pushed herself up off the door again. "You need to do some sorting out. This can't go on, and the only one who can put it right is you. You look tired; I know you were cleared for active duty, but I don't think you're over your injuries yet. Go home; I'll take your team off call for the weekend. Do a lot of sleeping, and some thinking." She opened the door and stood aside for him to go ahead of her, which he did.

All he said was "Rota," and a grunt that could have meant anything, before he strode away.

"And here's something else that can be laid directly at your door, Jethro," Jenny thought as she waited for the elevator to open. "I should have seen it and done something sooner. Abby takes her cue on how to act from you, and if you can get away with something she thinks it's fine for her too. Not any m-" she heard voices in the lab.

"- keep telling you, Tony's wrong! Of course I wouldn't be biased!"

"And if that evidence were to say Gibbs made a mistake, what would you do?"

"Gibbs wouldn't make a mistake!"

As the Director watched, Tim put himself between the scientist and her target, the evidence box on the table. "Abs, you can't have it. If you want to help Gibbs, you'll let this go."

"Of course I want to help Gibbs – I'm the only one who can prove him innocent!"

"Innocent of what, Abby?" Jenny stayed calm as she entered the lab; she felt as if she were talking to a ten year old. Tim's look of relief said it all.

"Well, whatever it is Tony's trying to prove!"

"Tony was looking for evidence to prove Gibbs didn't tamper with a file. He's already found it. What we were looking for next was some hint of who did, and," she hardened her tone, "as we always do in such cases, in order to protect one of our own from unjust accusations, we were trying to do it on a need to know basis." She watched while the scientist and the ten year old fought for control of Abby's face.

"But... but Tony didn't tell me that..."

"No, Abby, he asked you to do it blind, something we'd already discussed. And if you'd followed that instruction, the whole of NCIS would still be unaware that evidence has gone missing." She looked at Tim, and said softly, "I'll take it from here, Special Agent McGee. Thank you." Tim nodded unhappily, and left. "Why did you choose not to do as you were asked?"

"I knew Tony was up to something – Gibbs would -"

"Abby! You didn't know Gibbs was involved until you – I presume – looked up the file number. If Special Agent DiNozzo was 'up to something', that was his business, not yours. You thought you knew better."

"But -"

"There are no buts, Abby! Now I find you attempting to disobey the instruction not to test the box, and in between you made an unprovoked attack on the agent who gave the instructions, shouted it out all over the squadroom, caused ill feeling between two senior agents, and there's no way of knowing yet just how much damage you've done."

"I was only trying to help!"

"If your method of trying to help is to fly off the handle and strike people, decide which requests you'll comply with, which instructions you'll follow, and pick and choose which evidence you'll process, then you're not doing your job properly. Everything revolves around Gibbs, and what he does, you assume you can do."

Jenny waited, but Abby said nothing. "It happens that yesterday I was looking through the file of a young forensic scientist, Robbie Dooley, who's due for promotion -" she couldn't help feeling satisfaction at the alarm that flared in Abby's eyes – finally, that had got through – "to San Diego. I'd like him to get some serious hands on experience first. I was wondering how to go about that. I also noticed that for the past six years you've not taken your place on the rota for FCFC at Norfolk."

Foundation Course in Forensic Chemistry was nobody's favourite; it involved living down at the naval base for twelve weeks, teaching basic chemistry to doctors, nurses, FLETC trainees, and anyone else who may find themselves having to think forensically during a tour of duty or agency field operations. It was boring, but necessary, and Abby had always managed to avoid it.

"Robbie was going to do it, before taking up his post in California, but I think he can be relieved of that, and come here for the twelve weeks instead, by which time this case -" she indicated the empty box - "will be history. You'll take his place teaching the FCFC course, beginning next Tuesday, and resume your work here when that's over, providing we can agree on what that involves. I will tell you that it doesn't involve being a law unto yourself, or making unprovoked attacks on colleagues. You have the weekend to get ready; I'll make sure you get all the relevant information, including the dress code."

"Dress code?" the scientist squeaked.

"It's a naval base, Abby. There are certain requirements, even for civilian personnel. And I do believe following instructions is also one of them." The Director turned away to head towards the elevator, and resisted smiling until Abby could no longer see her face. Now, back to three unsettled agents in the bull pen, or find Tony?

He told the guards he was going for coffee, in case anyone asked, but crossed the road and the open space between HQ and the river, and sat on the grass in the shadow of the huge gun. It was a good secluded spot, not even visible from the highest window in the building, and he wanted to remain unobserved. When he'd really wanted to see her last night, she'd not come; but now he knew that if Ziva knew where he was, she wouldn't take the slightest notice of his wish to be left alone; sad fact of life.

He was surprised to find, once he sat still, that his heart was thumping, and he was shaking slightly. The actual physical sensation of an open palm across his face, and a fist bunched in his shirt had long since faded, but a cold, white, remembering fire still burned along his jaw and in the centre of his chest. He hadn't a clue what to do... he knew he had to decide P.D.Q., it wasn't fair to leave Alex to deal with the flak alone, but he had to get a grip on himself.

His own personal misery at the sudden, swift deterioration of an already bad situation had to be set aside; he had to get under control and do his job. 'Give yourself a break, Tony,' Kate's voice was less abrasive than usual. 'You can treat yourself to five minutes.'

Can I, Kate? What do I do? Would you have believed that from Abby? Gibbs... no surprise there... well, OK, a bit.

He wasn't going to give way to tears or panic, he wasn't the sort, but he was as close as he'd been since... hell, being on the roof with you, Kate. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't have to look at the trembling.

'OK, OK... forget the five minutes. Go and see Ducky. Why didn't you do that in the first place?'

Ah Kate... what would I do without you?

Ducky looked up as the doors swished, and got up from his desk straight away. "Anthony, dear boy, I've been expecting you. Come and sit down, at once."

"Hey, Ducky, do I look that bad?"

"No at all, my boy – er... yes, I'm afraid you do. Here, do sit ..." He steered Tony in the direction of the chair he'd just risen from, and nudged him down into it. "I've been remiss; I should have encouraged you to come down before this... Mr Palmer!" Jimmy had emerged from the office, and came over, his own version of Mallardesque concern on his face. "Tony..."

"Hi, Jimmy..." he couldn't think of anything witty to say.

"The medicinal fluid from the third drawer, if you please, James, just one glass... I don't think we'll be partaking."

"You just might, Ducky. You just might need three glasses."

"I rather think we need to keep our wits clear in order to help if we can, Anthony. Dear me, I really shouldn't have let things come to this."

"Not your fault, Ducky... w-wait a minute... you know?"

"Indeed. Young Timothy just paid us a brief visit; he doesn't look much better off than you. He told us what had happened," Ducky went on in a tone of deep regret. "He was very shocked and sad, as were we... but he wasn't concerned about himself. He said he was sure you'd be here soon, to tell you the Director has things in hand upstairs, and to - I quote – take care of you."

TBC

AN: I'm not sure of Ducky's voice and this last scene in general... rats, I can usually write him, or I think I can!