Millie had been telling the truth when she said that her rooms were basic but Tony's room was light, airy, scrupulously clean and with a stunning view out across the ocean. Tony thought it was testimony to how tired he was that he didn't even try to switch the TV on. He opened the windows before going to bed; the painful memory of his cell door being slammed shut still made him feel easily claustrophobic and he would have slept outside if he could. Despite his tiredness, he tossed and turned for a long time before finally being lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves lapping on the beach. The picture of Gibbs in MTAC shrugging his shoulders as he defied Judge Carew took a long time to fade.

Tony got up early and went for a run along the beach but made sure he was back in time for Millie's breakfast. He sat outside again and Millie brought him crispy bacon and scrambled egg; she also brought the newspaper.

"You were up early this morning. Everything all right?" she asked.

"I went for a run along the beach. I'm used to being up early," he said, not wanting to admit to a restless night.

Millie poured him a cup of coffee and left him to eat. He cast an eye on the front page of the paper: the front page was dominated by reports on the verdict in a movie star libel case, on a possible medical breakthrough in the treatment of arthritis and on the latest housing market report. There was nothing that piqued his interest so he turned to the sports pages, reasoning that he was on vacation/hiatus and was allowed to step off from the world for a while.

John arrived just as Tony was reading about the latest speculation about new drugs testing being introduced in the NBA. John lived about half a mile down the road in what he called a beach shack but tended to come to Millie's for most of his meals. After all, he reasoned, with a cook like Millie so close, it was almost sinful to cook for himself.

"What are your plans, Tony?" he asked, "moving on today?"

Tony found himself reluctant to leave. The itchy feet which had driven him out of Washington seemed to have calmed down and were happy to stay where they were for the moment.

"Don't know," he said, "I think I might stay on for a few days. If Millie has room, that is."

Millie came out at that moment carrying John's sausages and fried eggs and overheard him,

"It's quiet at this time of year. I've got some people coming at the weekend but you can stay till then."

Tony nodded his thanks and returned to his breakfast. After the two men had given the reverent attention due to Millie's food, John got up.

"Drop in for coffee later on," he suggested, "if you've got nothing better to do. It's only instant, my coffee maker's bust – but it's better than nothing."

Tony smiled at the thought of someone who could manage on instant coffee; for some reason it drew him to John still more.

"Thanks, I might see you later then."

John called out a farewell to Millie and ambled off. Tony gazed after him for a moment or two, envying his apparent contentment and then, squashing feelings of guilt at being so lazy and uninterested in the goings-on of the world, put his sunglasses on and stared out to sea.

NCISNCIS

McGee almost ran into the squad room that morning,

"Have you heard from Tony, Boss?" he demanded.

He was met with a sour look and a raised eyebrow from a Gibbs who looked sleep-deprived.

"Sorry, Boss. Of course, you'd have told us. But the story of Yalland's escape was on the TV News last night and it's in the papers. He'll be in touch soon."

Gibbs waved his newspaper at him,

"It's not on the front page, McGee. Tucked away inside. Knocked off the front page by that stupid libel case."

"Now, now, Jethro," said Ducky soothingly as he entered the squad room carrying cups of coffee, "you know how Tony likes to keep up with things. And can you really imagine him not watching TV? No, no, he'll be in touch very soon, I'm sure."

Gibbs didn't look reassured. The Director arrived at that moment with Judge Carew behind him.

"Leon," said Gibbs without any greeting, "you need to contact the newspapers again. Make them put Yalland's escape on the front page."

Carew intervened before Vance could speak, "Dear, dear, Agent Gibbs. I'm afraid there is the small matter of Freedom of the Press. I'm sure you've heard of the First Amendment to the Constitution. I regret that your Director, powerful and influential though he may be, does not have the power and influence to force newspapers to adjust their reporting to suit your requirements." He bestowed one of his beatific smiles on Gibbs.

Vance hastened to say, "Thank you, Your Honour, I'll bear that in mind," he bestowed what he hoped would be a quelling look at Gibbs and went on, "Judge Carew will be spending the day at NCIS as part of our protecting him. I'm going to find him a room."

"Why, Director, I don't need a whole room. Why don't I stay here? I could sit at Agent DiNozzo's desk as we know that, unfortunately, it is unlikely that he will be attending work today."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the Director found himself having to suppress a desire to laugh. The Judge seemed to have an unerring instinct for how best to irritate Gibbs.

"Agent McGee," asked the Judge politely, "would you mind bringing me a cup of coffee. Decaffeinated if you have it, very weak, lots of cream and two and a half level spoons of sugar. Thank you so much." And with that, he settled himself at Tony's desk with his laptop.

The Director, Ducky and McGee stared at him in fascinated horror while Gibbs decided on an attitude of lofty disdain. McGee scurried off the find the coffee while the Director and Ducky decided to find other places to be.

Not surprisingly, the Judge broke the tense silence,

"I have started to look through the trial transcript to re-familiarise myself with the case of Jamie Yalland in case there is some insight to be gained into how his mind works."

Gibbs grunted in a slightly less hostile tone.

As the morning progressed, McGee continued to monitor Tony's bank accounts and the BOLO out on Tony's grey sedan. He also tried to find out where Tony might have bought his burn phone but he knew that was a near impossible task: there was no way to know when Tony had acquired it. Somehow McGee suspected he might always have one ready to use in an emergency. He decided to strike an optimistic note,

"You know, Boss, if we can't find Tony it's not very likely that Yalland will, is it?"

"Ya think, McGee?" growled Gibbs, "Yalland had a head start on us. How do we know that he wasn't staking out Tony's apartment and already knew what type of car he'd bought? Or he might have found a clue to where Tony was going when he broke in – a clue we then couldn't find?"

"Yes, Boss, sorry, I didn't think of that," said a contrite McGee.

He was saved from further reprimand by the arrival of Ducky, this time carrying sandwiches and drinks. He pointedly placed a sandwich on Gibbs' desk,

"Even you cannot live on coffee alone, Jethro. Eat this, doctor's orders."

Gibbs glared at the offending food but grudgingly took a half-hearted bite. He was struggling to swallow it when McGee's phone rang.

"Special Agent McGee ... where? Is it still there? No, don't approach. Keep it in sight. We're on our way," he put the phone down, "Boss. That was Baltimore PD. They've spotted Tony's car. It's in Baltimore."

The food and drink were forgotten as Gibbs and McGee grabbed their gear and raced out of the room.

"Tell Abby," shouted McGee from the elevator.

They were nearing Baltimore when the call came through that the car was on the move. Gibbs told them to follow at a discreet distance and McGee started tapping into traffic cameras to try and get a visual on the car. It seemed, however, that the car was beginning to go on less frequented roads with fewer cameras.

"Where do you think Tony's going, Boss?" asked McGee, even as he wondered if it was a good idea to distract Gibbs while driving.

"Don't know, McGee," said Gibbs, "I just hope it's DiNozzo driving and not Yalland. This doesn't look the sort of place DiNozzo would pick for a drive."

McGee swallowed at the thought of Yalland driving Tony out to some isolated place. Thanks to Gibbs' aggressive driving they were soon able to catch up with the Baltimore police and they agreed to take up the trail with the police remaining on standby. Gibbs exercised unusual patience as he followed the grey sedan through a warehouse district and then out into a residential area.

"I can't see who's driving," said McGee, "he looks shorter than Tony but he's got a hoodie on. Didn't the Judge say that the person who broke into Tony's apartment was wearing a hoodie?"

"Lots of people wear hoodies," said Gibbs. The grey sedan turned on to another industrial estate and Gibbs decided to bring matters to a conclusion.

"Hold on," he said, rather unnecessarily as McGee had been reluctant to let go of anything the entire journey. Gibbs accelerated past the car, swung round in front of it and was out in a flash with gun at the ready. McGee was only half a second behind. They raced to the car,

"Hands on the wheel," Gibbs demanded, "keep them where we can see them."

McGee hoped that they would hear Tony's plaintive voice asking them why they were chasing him but instead they heard a high pitched voice wailing,

"Don't shoot. Don't shoot! I haven't done anything!"

That didn't sound like Yalland and they soon found out it wasn't. A pimply teenager on the verge of hyperventilating was sitting trembling behind the wheel. Gibbs and McGee did a quick search of the car but knew they weren't going to find anything.

"Where did you get this car?" demanded Gibbs.

"From Al's Used Cars," came the reply.

"When did you buy it?" asked McGee.

"This morning," stuttered the lad who then burst into tears.

NCISNCIS

Judge Carew looked on with interest when Gibbs and McGee returned with the pimply boy.

"That's not Agent DiNozzo," he observed.

Gibbs cast him a look of pure dislike.

"And I don't think it's Jamie Yalland either," he added.

"It's Paul Thomas," said McGee, "he was driving the car."

"Without a licence and without insurance," growled Gibbs. "McGee, take him to interrogation."

"Special Agent Gibbs," said Carew, "I trust you have apprised this young man of his rights?"

"Yes, of course," answered McGee for Gibbs.

"Good," said the Judge, "am I to understand that you believe Mr Thomas to have purchased the vehicle in question?"

"Er, yes," said McGee, guessing that Gibbs wasn't going to answer.

"Then what grounds do you have for questioning him?"

"Didn't you hear?" exploded Gibbs, "driving without a licence and without insurance!"

"Very reprehensible, I am sure, but it poses an interesting dilemma, does it not? Are such matters within your jurisdiction? And how did you establish this was the case? I fear it is not obvious to me that you have any legal right to pursue a case against Mr Thomas when you discovered his misdeeds by accident. Mr Thomas, I would recommend that you acquire legal representation before saying anything."

Gibbs made a strangled sound of disgust and left the room muttering, "Coffee!"

The Judge smiled another of his infuriating smiles and resumed his work.

McGee called Legal and decided to let them disentangle things. It was clear that Paul had nothing to do with Tony's disappearance and was probably completely terrified after being driven back to Washington with Gibbs at the wheel. Ducky and Abby arrived soon after for an update.

"Turns out that Tony sold the grey sedan. Must have been just after he left me. The dealer took it in exchange for a beige sedan – I've got the licence plate and I've put another BOLO. I'll start looking at the traffic cameras, see if I can spot it anywhere."

"I'll help you, Timmy," said Abby, "let's go down to my lab."

Ducky trailed away disconsolately leaving the Judge on his own. Gibbs came back with a new cup of coffee and seemed to decide it was time to confront the Judge.

"What are you doing here, Judge?"

Carew gazed up at him serenely, "Being protected, I hope."

"Why here? Why not at the FBI?"

"Why, I suppose I feel more at home here. I feel I've got to know you all so well."

Gibbs glared at him and then asked another burning question,

"So why did you go to DiNozzo's place yesterday?"

"Aahh," said Carew thoughtfully, "well ... I went to apologize to him."

"Apologize?" said Gibbs, shaken from his customary stoicism, "apologize?"

"Yes. I behaved rather badly to him and I wanted him to know that."

"You sure did," said Gibbs hotly.

"You misunderstand, Special Agent Gibbs. I still believe I was justified in asking you to attend my court room but I made an error of judgement in holding Agent DiNozzo in contempt. I should not have done that."

"No, you shouldn't," agreed Gibbs.

"I have already said so," said the Judge, " and it is a mistake for which I will pay a heavy price. Nevertheless, I wanted Agent DiNozzo to know that I regretted my actions."

"Won't get you off the hook," said Gibbs with some satisfaction.

"No, it will not," confirmed the Judge, "and I am ready to face the consequences of what I did in a moment of temper which did not befit a member of the judiciary. I wanted Agent DiNozzo to know that even if there were no consequences for me, I was sorry for what I had done. I hope I will still get that opportunity. Unlike you, Special Agent Gibbs, I do not believe apologies to be a sign of weakness. I believe they can be a way of acknowledging and regretting an error and then moving on. You might want to try it some time." With that, he took a sip of an undoubtedly weak and milky coffee and returned to his work.

NCISNCIS.

At about the same time, Tony was talking to John Sutherland. He had taken up John's invitation to coffee and found himself staying on afterwards. John was an artist, his beachside shack was filled with vivid seascapes and an occasional portrait.

Tony was primarily a 'people' person and found himself drawn to the portraits,

"These are good," he said.

"How do you know?" asked John, "they might not look anything like the sitters!"

"I doubt that," said Tony, "and anyway, it doesn't matter. You've caught something of them. They're alive."

John nodded in appreciation, "Used to do it for a living," he said.

"You painted portraits?"

"Yes. You might not believe it to look at me, but I was a real fashionable artist. Company directors, Judges, movie stars – they all wanted me to paint them."

"What happened?"

"Got bored with it. Seemed to me I was painting people with empty eyes, couldn't bear the look of all them all hanging in my studio. All those blank eyes staring down at me. So I quit and came here."

"Sounds romantic. Or something out of a movie," suggested Tony.

"Wish it was," said John, "my family couldn't understand it. My wife left me, my son can hardly bear to talk to me even now."

"I'm sorry," said Tony, feeling inadequate.

"No need," said John. "I've been here fifteen years now, the pain fades after a while and this is a healing place to be."

"It seems to be," agreed Tony.

"What's the matter with you that you need healing, Son?" asked John.

Tony grimaced a bit at the word 'Son'.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," said John.

Tony felt the sudden attraction of confiding in someone and he decided to place some trust in John. "Not really used to being called Son," he said.

"Is your father dead?"

Tony gave a half laugh, "No. But I don't think he's ever called me Son. Not really his style."

"What is his style?"

"Let's just say that he wouldn't understand you giving up doing something well paid just because you thought the eyes looked empty. He'd see the gain not the pain."

"What's he done to send you here?"

"Oh, nothing. Well, nothing new. Haven't heard from him for a few months and probably won't till he needs something."

"So why you here? 'Cos I'm guessing it's something pretty recent."

"Someone I trusted let me down and I don't know what to do about it."