Chapter Four: Reckless

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"Do you know what Baoth stands for, Caitlin?"

He circles her for all the world like a vulture hanging over the desiccated remains of his meal and Kate can't think straight while Gerald's groans grow weaker and Ducky is within inches of the bastard's gun.

She'd call him a madman but one look into his eyes tells her otherwise. Their captor is terrifyingly sane. And not at all frightened of her remembering his face.

That's worrying.

"No," she says coolly, and refuses to break eye contact with him. There's sweat trickling down her neck.

Baoth hisses in pain from where the sleek scarlet snake is wrapped around him. One wing is bent out crookedly, feathers scattered around, and he's watching her beseechingly, his beak gaping with discomfort and shock. The snake coils, tightens, and lifts its head to stare her down.

She won't show how much it hurts.

The man steps closer, his breath hot on her face. It smells of mint and his eyes are green.

"Reckless," he says, and smiles. "Are you reckless, Agent Todd?"

She grips the scalpel tightly against her hip, just out of his view. Imagines slamming it into his abdomen. Imagines that smile fading, those green eyes turning blank. Imagines the shower of gold as the snake crushing her soul dies with him.

"Give me my gun and you'll find out."

He laughs and even over the icy sound she hears Ducky inhale sharply as he sees what's in her hand.

"I think that answers my question, don't you?" he says.

She loosens her grip and looks away first.

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He says the words and Tony goes cold. Gibbs watches it happen.

He's seen it before, only twice. Once when they found the murdered body of two six year olds by the hands of their father. And the second when they were mere minutes too late to save the life of a man who Tony had only the day before connected with.

It scares Gibbs every time because when it happens, he can see how easy it would be for Tony to fail to come back from it. He imagines Fitz's coat as dark as Kali's, and the thought twists something nameless in his chest.

It's not his face that gives it away. Gibbs doesn't make a habit of relying on facial expressions to tell him what he needs to know; especially when it concerns his second, the only man Gibbs knows who can shape his face like a sculptor shapes clay and mask even the strongest of emotions. It's his daemon. It's Fitz.

Gone is the puppy dog eyes and the one crookedly held ear. She doesn't gambol, she doesn't bound. She goes stiff and bristling and stands like she's ready to lunge forward after her prey. There's a curl to her muzzle and a snap to her eyes. Daemons don't hunt humans as a general rule, but Gibbs can look at her now and see how she could.

When she's like this, Kali keeps away, because Kali is a fox and no fox would risk that hunting gaze. Gibbs doesn't have that option.

"Keep your head," he says and Tony smiles widely.

"Only one I have, boss," he replies and laughs. Pacci is behind him, setting up their surveillance, and at the sound of that laugh he twitches away and looks at DiNozzo nervously. It's edged with a snarl and much more at home on his daemon, but she's gone silent and terrifyingly still and it's never going to get any less unsettling.

Later, before this ends but after that moment, Gibbs follows Tony to the bathroom and Tony turns on him and his mask slips.

Cold, hard fury on his face and it's not aimed at Gibbs but it may as well have been because Gibbs is supposed to keep his team safe, and he failed that in their own workplace.

"He's a dead man," Tony says calmly.

Gibbs nods and doesn't break eye contact. "Let's make sure he's the only one."

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Gerald's daemon is the prettiest cat Kate's ever seen and the sight of her glossy white fur stained with his blood would be the most horrifying part of this if Kate's Baoth wasn't still tightly entwined in the looped grasp of their captor's snake.

"What's her name?" the man asks, leaning over Gerald and examining Ducky's handiwork. Kate clenches her fist and tries not to glance to the corner where her daemon struggles. One wrong move and she'll have a bullet in her heart.

One wrong move and Baoth will have venom-laced fangs in his breast. She's helpless.

"Go to hell," Gerald moans, and his cat mewls, her sides heaving as she shares his pain. She's curled against him and her eyes are glazed, fogged with white at the corners. Ducky stares at her with a closed off expression and Netta sidles closer to him.

The man looks bored. "Did you know the spitting cobra has a range of up to about six feet when spraying venom?"

"Six point six," Ducky says quietly and his eyes slide across to the snake. The snake eyes him back.

Gerald's daemon begins to purr frantically.

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"She's going to be alright, you know."

Tony turns to glare at Pacci as the younger agent speaks. Pacci stares back without even flinching. "What was that, Pacci-ato?"

The other agent swallows. They're alone in the elevator. Waiting. For what, Tony doesn't want to contemplate. Something to go right upstairs, probably.

Or something to go wrong downstairs.

"Kate." Pacci's daemon is a parrot and it nibbles at his ear as he talks. He does an admirable job of ignoring it. "She's tough as nails. If anyone can get out of this, she can."

"I know that. I know that better than you. Why are you telling me this? I'm her partner." Try as he might, Tony thinks he may have failed at keeping the snap out of his voice. Fitz watches silently.

Pacci's radio crackles. It's almost go-time. Gibbs is done being Gibbsy and is ready to kick ass.

Tony wishes he was beside him. He's needed elsewhere though. "Stay ready, Pacci," he says quietly, and moves out.

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He tries to get them into the autopsy drawers.

Ducky chuckles, the humour not reaching his eyes. "I'm not quite ready for that yet, young man," he says, one hand on Gerald's chest protectively. The cat is silent now. "And I don't think my daemon is quite suited to enclosed spaces, not without things becoming rather dire in there." He gestures to Netta's spikes.

Netta is on her hind legs, staring at a point just past Kate's leg absently, as though she hasn't a care in the world. Her tail shifts slightly on the floor, spines rustling. Their captor barely spares her a glance.

Kate is instantly suspicious.

"I'm not getting in there without Baoth," she says, digging her heels in. Having a door between her and her kestrel is one thing. Having a solid steel door between them with Baoth on the side of a man with a gun… unthinkable. Her very core rebels at the idea.

Their captor opens his mouth, his handsome face turning irate, and Netta chooses that moment to move. The snake must have relaxed as Baoth had stopped struggling and its cold eyes are fixed on its human.

It doesn't even have time to react as the porcupine moves with startling speed, claws skittering on the tiles as she whirls and flicks her tail at the snake, peppering it with a clattering of quills that tumble around it. None stick but the snake is startled enough that it puts up no fight when Baoth explodes from its grasp with a furious keeyaw.

"Yes, of course the belief that a normal porcupine can shoot its quills as an archer would an arrow is quite untrue," Ducky says quickly, not backing down when the terrorist turns on him with an annoyed hiss. "But Netta is a daemon, and in our youth we spent a considerable amount of time practising the trick. They do very little damage. It's very much like throwing a handful of skewers. Like magic. A diversion. When I was a boy…" He trails off and they all watch the gun.

There's a long beat of silence that seems to drag on for an eternity, broken only by the unconscious gasp of relief Kate makes when Baoth lands on her shoulder and tucks himself, quivering, against her neck. She can feel his heartbeat thundering against her skin.

Their captor laughs. His snake moves sinuously, twining around his feet and flaring its hood angrily at the smug looking porcupine. "Well played, Doctor. I could see that the continued captivity of Caitlin's daemon was upsetting you. I must admit, I was not expected such a showy rescue. I applaud your determination. Now if you will please… do as I say."

She waits until the door is closed on Ducky, Netta chittering nervously as she's sealed into the neighbouring body drawer. Alone.

"Gibbs is going to destroy you," she snaps, sliding her legs into the opening he gestures towards. The gun is loose in his hand, but she's not close enough to grab at it. Baoth's talons click on the steel table as he shuffles deeper into the hollow, waiting for her to join him. She's not leaving him out here.

"I doubt that very much." He leans down and peers in as she lays flat on the drawer and he pushes it the rest of the way in. She can't help but feel vulnerable on her back. "Goodbye, Caitlin. I look forward to our next meeting."

"I look forward to shooting you."

He shuts the door and leaves them in darkness.

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"Why not?" the terrorist says, and Gibbs fires.

Kali stays by his side but the snake by his gapes open its mouth and rears back. Gibbs knows what it's going to do seconds before it does it.

There's a bullet in his shoulder that burns like a bitch and he knows he's lost this standoff because the floor is tilting out from under him, but on his way down he still manages to curl his body over his daemon and stop the spray of venom from touching her. It splatters harmlessly across his shirt and he wonders, "Where's DiNozzo?"

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Tony isn't quick enough and two men die in front of him before he gets his gun into position.

He would have died too but Fitz has never been shy about getting her teeth bloody, and she takes out the shooter from behind and sinks her teeth into his throat without making a sound.

He could shoot the guy, he should shoot the guy because a man dying with his daemon's bite marks on his neck is going to raise a whole heap of questions about his mental state, but he hesitates.

The man's daemon shrills once, some kind of dull feathered bird, and he stops hesitating. Clicks his tongue. Fitz leaps back, the man's fist connecting dully with her shoulder as she releases him and sending a shuddering shockwave through the both of them.

Tony nails him in the chest and the bird showers them both with gold. There's gold everywhere from three vanished daemons and he could run his hand through Fitz's fur and have it come away looking like he's spent his day getting a lap dance from a woman named Candy.

Except there are few places tacky enough to stock gold glitter. There's not exactly a roaring trade for it.

His radio crackles as he stands over the man he's killed and memorises his face. The wrong face. Dressed in their gear and not the man he'd been ogling through a security feed.

Fitz licks her lips clean and he's strangely disappointed.

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"Gibbs figures he was wearing a bullet proof vest all along." Tony is examining her while he talks. Kate glares at him. Shouldn't he be off making sure Gibbs isn't causing a ruckus with the poor medics trying to patch up his shoulder?

"He was. I felt it," she says. She can't place why Tony looks so… odd… right now.

His eyebrows shoot up. She realizes what it is. Fitz is still, just watching, not moving. "You felt it? Well, how close did you get to feel it?" He steps closer, close enough that she can smell the acrid bite of sweat on his skin and clothes. "Close enough to touch him." His eyes are dark.

"Close enough to stab him with the knife in my hand."

"And you didn't."

"No." Something glints in the light on his arm. She's still thinking about Gibbs' blood on the floor of autopsy and Gerald's daemon which is why she doesn't stop herself from reaching out and scrubbing the pad of her thumb across the skin of his bicep.

He pulls away like she's burnt him and to avoid him seeing the way her cheeks flush, she examines her thumb.

Gold. She feels sick.

Fitz whines.

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"Kate." He catches her before she leaves and looks her up and down carefully. "You alright?"

She huffs a dark laugh and tucks her arm close to her chest. Baoth is for once perched on her wrist instead of her shoulder, tucked close against her. He's seen that clinginess before in daemons, usually after one of the pair has suffered some sort of physical confrontation.

"I was held hostage and shoved into a body drawer, Gibbs. And you were shot. I really need a drink, for one thing."

Kali's muzzle wrinkles in a silent snarl he feels rather than sees at the idea of the man or his daemon touching one of his.

He nods instead of saying any of this. "You did good in there."

"I didn't do anything."

That's not true, he thinks. "You didn't die."

She almost laughs then she seems to reconsider. "You have low expectations of us. Even Tony's managed to not die so far."

He shoves away the mental image that tries to assail him before it can show on his face. Tony, bloodied. Tony, shot. Tony in one of the myriad of ways they could die any day, without warning. This time in the old nightmare, Kate joins him.

He knows what he'll dream about tonight.

"We'll get him," he says softly and they both know they're not talking about Tony anymore. "I promise you that."

She cocks her head. "So long as I get to shoot the bastard when we do."

"Only if you beat me there."

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There's a knock on her door. Somehow, she's not surprised that it's Tony.

"What do you want?" she says in lieu of greeting, horribly aware that she's in her most obnoxiously purple flannel pyjamas, decorated with dancing toothbrushes with wide, manical grins. They're the baggiest ones she has. The most comfortable.

She's craving comfort tonight.

"Drinking alone?" he asks, leaning against her doorframe and gesturing to the bottle of beer in her hand. Fitz bows down onto her front paws behind him, mouth hanging open in a grin and back end almost wagging off. Kate's pleased to see that she's apparently only taken three hours to recover from their day. She's also envious.

"I almost got shot today. I think I deserve a beer. I think the better question is, why aren't you drinking? You killed someone today."

She has to hand it to him, the mask barely even flickers. She wonders if he'll ever let her know the real DiNozzo. She wonders if he even knows the real DiNozzo.

"He had it coming." He steps forward and she doesn't back up to give him space even though her pulse suddenly catches on to his proximity and starts rushing giddily. She should probably stop this right now before it begins.

Baoth glides past and lands awkwardly on the ruff of Fitz's neck, running his beak gently along her ear. Kate sees Tony shiver as well at the sudden touch.

She's not the only one craving comfort.

His thumb traces the skin of her arm, mimicking her earlier touch, except his leaves a swathe of goosebumps behind that she knows he has to be aware of.

"Rule twelve," she says instead of saying no, because his face has gone dark and intent and it's been a long time and she'd be lying if she didn't want this to go further than a touch.

"We're not dating," he replies, and it's a statement and a question all at once. This is a mistake.

She lets him in anyway.

Sometimes, she's reckless.