"Faithful"- Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry this update took so long- my computer was attacked by viruses, and needed to be fixed and "cleared for duty", hehe. I made up for it by writing a long chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

FBI Senior Lead Agent Tobias Fornell frowned as he stepped into the elevator at NCIS headquarters. Early in the morning, he had received an angry voicemail from Director Leon Vance, asking him to come to NCIS. Vance didn't say, but Fornell suspected that they had found a lead in the case, and wanted to let him know. He stepped off the elevator, and saw Probationary Agent Ziva David already sitting at her desk.

"Good morning, Agent David," he called out as he headed upstairs. She simply glared at him. Must not be a morning person, he thought to himself as he headed into the conference room.

Vance sat on one side of the table, hands folded in front of him. His friend, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, sat opposite of him, clutching his constant companion, a paper coffee cup. There was an empty chair at the head of the table, between the men. "Sit down, Tobias," Gibbs ordered sternly.

He sat down. "What's going on, Jethro?" he asked carefully.

"We've identified the three shooters," Vance said. "Khalid Nuri, his wife Zulema Nuri, and her brother Amir Ghalib. Agent Gibbs sent some of his team to their apartment building, where they discovered evidence that leads us to believe that Ghalib was the one who led this attack."

"Well, that's great," Fornell said. "Isn't it?"

"Only, when we seized his laptop, and investigated further, we learned that they were communicating with a prominent radical imam," Gibbs explained. "You wouldn't happen to know anything more about this, would you, Tobias?"

Fornell let out a sigh. "We were investigating the imam's contacts the last couple of years. Other than the Fort Hood shooter, and the Christmas Day bomber, we did not find anyone that posed a threat. Before each attack, they weren't considered threats, either."

"Sounds like you screwed the pooch over there at the FBI," Gibbs retorted, "Again."

"All we could prove was that, at a minimum, he gave them spiritual guidance," Fornell said. "There was no mention of jihad, or revenge, or anything of the sort. None of the typical red flags popped up."

"So, there are twenty- one people dead now, because there were no red flags?" Vance asked angrily.

"If we had received intel of any threat, especially to a place known to have military personnel, we would have read you all in," Fornell insisted. "I swear to you."

"You believe him, Gibbs?" Vance asked. "You've known him longer."

"He's a bastard," Gibbs answered with a slight smile, "But an honest one. Let him get back to work."

"Thank you," Fornell said, as he stood up. "I know how you feel about apologies, Jethro, but I am sorry you lost an agent."

"Thank you, Agent Fornell," Vance replied. "Have a good day."

Gibbs stood up, and was about to leave the conference room. "You okay, Leon?"

Director Vance sighed, and stood up. "I have a lot to get done today. Agent Bernard's parents are flying in today, and I need to brief Agent DiNozzo on his assignment today," he explained. "Seeing as how I haven't had to deal with grieving parents, I'm not sure what his assignment should be, exactly."

"Don't worry about it. DiNozzo's been around long enough to know how to handle these situations," Gibbs told Vance. "Let him wing it."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Vance said as they exited the conference room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, clad in a ratty Ohio State t-shirt and boxers, stood in front of his closet. He was always a man that put careful consideration into the clothes he wore, but today was especially important. He would be representing NCIS when he would be picking Dr. and Mrs. Bernard up at Dulles, and wanted to make a good first impression. Black suit, white shirt, black tie? he thought to himself. Nah, save that for the funeral. What about my gray suit, with a blue shirt underneath? A tie might mean I'm trying too hard- skip the tie. He changed into his selection, looked in the mirror, and smiled. Perfect- blue was Charity's favorite color.

*~*~*~*

"You look very… spiffy today, Tony," Ziva complimented as he stepped off the elevator, into the squad room.

"Hey, you got another idiom right, Z," he noted. "Oh, and thanks. I'm picking up the Bernard's from the airport today, and I wanted to give off a good first impression of NCIS."

"No tie?" she asked.

"Didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, Zee-vah," he grinned at her. "Did you hear anything about how the meeting with Fornell went?"

"No," she replied. "I am guessing that Gibbs is waiting for all of us to arrive, and then he will tell us."

"Speaking of 'all of us', where's McGee?" he asked her.

"I am not sure," she said, as she shuffled together papers on her desk. "You're usually the last one to arrive."

At that that moment, the elevator doors dinged open, and Special Agent Timothy McGee stepped into the squad room, with one hand clutching a bakery bag, and the other balancing a carrier with four coffee cups. "Morning," he greeted cheerfully.

"What is all this, McGee?" Ziva asked him.

"Yeah, McTardy," Tony added. "I don't remember asking you to get coffee this morning, Z. Do you?"

"I did not ask him," she replied.

"Can't a co-worker pick up some coffee and a few pastries without getting interrogated?" McGee asked in an irritated voice. "Jeez."

"I am sorry, McGee," Ziva told him. "This was very kind of you."

"The one marked 'ET' is English Toffee, so that's yours," Tim said. "The 'JM' is Jamaican Mocha…"

"That's mine," Tony said, grabbing the cup out of the carrier. "Thank you, Tim."

"Oh, I'm not done yet," Tim said, digging into the bakery bag. "This is yours, too." He pulled out a double chocolate-chip scone- Tony's favorite.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and nudged McGee over towards the back of the staircase. "I have to tell you, I'm a little confused by your generosity, McGee. Appreciative, but confused. What gives?"

"Well," Tim began, "with everything going on, I just wanted to do something to show you, well, that…"

"Will you spit it out, Tim?" Tony asked cautiously.

"That I care, Tony," he finally admitted. "I know you were very close with Charity, and I can't imagine how devastated you are. I just thought that this would be a nice gesture, to show you I care, and, uh, if you need to talk, I'm here. So is Ziva, and Abs. Oh, and Ducky."

For once in his life, Tony was rendered speechless. A few moments later, he blinked a couple times, then flashed McGee a wide smile, and pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Tim," he said, his voice raspy. "That truly means a lot to me. Even more than the free coffee."

McGee chuckled. "Only you could make this moment funny. But, that's okay- I needed a laugh."

"Ziva, get over here," Tony called out. The young Israeli came over. "Charity was definitely special to me, but you all are. I realized that I need to tell you guys that more often, because you could be here one day, and gone the next." He let go of McGee, and pulled Ziva into a tight hug. "I care about you, Z. I want to make absolutely sure you know that."

"I do, Tony," she replied. "I have always known that, and I hope you know that I care about you, too."

"Did I miss something?" Gibbs asked as made his way down the steps.

"I was just telling these guys that I care about them, Boss," Tony admitted. "I care about you, too, in case you didn't know that."

Gibbs gave his senior agent a slight nod, then motioned for his team to follow him.

"So, what did Fornell have to say, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Not much, McGee," Gibbs replied. "He said that they had monitored the imam, and that the shooters had communicated with him, but they didn't pose a threat. If they had been considered a threat, Fornell insisted that they would have read us in."

"Do you believe that, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Yes," Gibbs replied, as Tony's cell phone rang.

"DiNozzo. Hello, Mrs. Bernard… you've boarded your flight in Fort Worth? Great… Yes, I'll see you in about two hours… Sure, call me when you de-plane. Okay, thanks. See you then," he finished, and snapped his phone shut.

"The Bernard's flight is scheduled to land in two hours, and ten minutes," Tony explained. "Without traffic, it takes about thirty minutes to get to Dulles. But, in morning rush-hour traffic…" he paused and tried to do the calculations in head.

"I think there's steam coming out of his ears," McGee said with a chuckle.

"His brain is working hard, yes?" Ziva added with a laugh.

"You should've left ten minutes ago, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered.

"Crap, you're right, Boss," Tony exclaimed, and headed toward the elevator. "I'll see you guys later. Thanks for the coffee, Tim!"

"Where's DiNozzo headed in such a rush?" Vance asked from the top of the staircase.

"He's running late to pick up the Bernard's, Director," McGee answered.

"I haven't had a chance to brief him on his duties yet," Vance said.

"I would not worry," Ziva assured him. "Tony is capable of what you call flying by the seat of his pants, yes?"

"Figures you'd get that right," Vance muttered. "I'm going to call him." He went back into his office, and slammed his door shut.

"Does he not think Tony is able to handle Charity's parents on his own?" she asked.

"I think he's just nervous, Ziver," Gibbs told her. "Let's just stay out of his way, and continue working on the case."

"Of course."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"DiNozzo," Tony answered his phone as he parked his car in the Hourly Parking lot at Dulles.

"DiNozzo, it's Director Vance," Vance replied.

"Oh hi, Director. You making sure I made it to the airport on time?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Well, that and I wanted to let you know what your duties are."

Tony sighed. "Pick the Bernard's up on time, bring them to NCIS headquarters in a safe manner, be polite and courteous, and don't act like a moron. Is that all?"

"Actually, yes it is," Vance said.

"Great," Tony replied, "Because I have another call. I think it's them."

"Oh, by all means, take it," Vance told him. "I will see you when you get back."

Tony answered the other line as he locked his car, and headed toward Arrivals. "DiNozzo."

"We've just landed, Agent DiNozzo," Mrs. Bernard replied. "We need to clear Customs first, but we're being told you're to meet us at Baggage Claim number fifteen."

"Then that's where I'll be," he assured her. "I'll be in a gray suit and blue shirt."

"I'll be pulling a red carry-on, and my husband will have a dark green carry-on," she told the Senior Field Agent.

"That's very helpful," he replied. "I'll keep an eye out for you. See you in a few." He snapped his phone shut, and sat down at a nearby bench, and waited.

*~*~*~*

"Is that him?" Dr. Bernard asked his wife.

"That gentleman is wearing a black suit, dear," Mrs. Bernard reminded him. "Agent DiNozzo said he is wearing a gray suit. That might be him over there, who just stood up."

*~*~*~*

Tony recognized Mrs. Bernard immediately. Not just from the red carry-on she'd mentioned, but because of her striking resemblance to the young linguist- right down to the red hair. He stood up, and walked over to them.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Bernard, Mrs. Bernard," he said, extending his right hand. "I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. It's a pleasure to meet you, circumstances aside."

The older man shook Tony's hand. "Michel Bernard. You can call me Dr. Bernard. It's nice to meet you, Anthony."

"Nina Bernard. You can call me Nina." Mrs. Bernard enthusiastically shook the young agent's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and put a face to the name."

"Likewise," Tony replied. "Let me take your bags, and I'll take you to my car."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*