In the end, Abby couldn't do it. She just couldn't subject her babies to Gibbs and his button smashing. When Major Mass Spec didn't process his results fast enough, Gibbs smashed the Run button over and over again until Abby thought it would fall off. He ripped the tip off her favorite pipetter. And poor Mr. PCR makes a weird little screaming noise whenever Gibbs gets too close. She doesn't know what Gibbs did while she was getting more CafPowder. Thankfully, they reached a lull in the work not long ago.
Now, Abby puts the finishing touches on Wax-doll Gibbs' menacing scowl. She hates to admit it, but it looks pretty darn good. Using a live model—Real Gibbs has been scowling at her since the lab locked down—gives her doll a true-to-life feel. Now, she just has to plan a way to get the rest of the team to the lab while she makes their likenesses. Tim will be easy; he likes to hide out down here from Gibbs under the guise of 'helping'. Tony and the new girl—Ellie Bishop—might be more difficult. But right now, Abby has nothing but time to plan.
There isn't much else to do. Her lab equipment is doing most of the heavy lifting for them. Major Mass Spec is analyzing an unknown chemical on Ransom Phillips' gloves. Mr. PCR is amplifying the DNA from their blood splatter to hopefully get enough to run through the DNA database. Her computer runs a picture of who the original investigators thought was Ransom Phillips through the Missing Persons' Database. Right now, she and Gibbs are the only ones not truly working.
Though, she loves how streamlined the process became while spending quality time with Gibbs. She pulls a result and summarizes the findings while Gibbs reaches the conclusion. In less than two hours, they made more progress on this case than anyone in fifteen years. She knew they could be a dream team, but damn…she needs to lock Gibbs in her lab more often. If they can solve the case in the next sixteen minutes, it'll be a new personal best for her.
Just as she's finishing the curl of Wax Doll Gibbs' lip, her phone bleats. Excited, she figures it's Tony—Real Tony—with a status update. Though, it's not like any of them bothered to update her while she was keeping Gibbs busy anyway. Her heart sinks at the sender.
Jimmy Palmer's text reads, Dr. Mallard and I just got back. I'll be up in a sec to unlock the lab. Is Agent Gibbs mad?
Sneaking a glance at Gibbs, she surveys his deepening scowl and irritated eyes. The CafPowder took the edge off his crankiness and he isn't twitching anymore. But he doesn't look particularly happy. Well, no less happy than when they don't have a lead and no idea.
Before she can respond, Jimmy texts again, Actually, please don't tell Gibbs we're back yet. I need to get the body set up for Dr. Mallard. I'll be up soon.
Gibbs peers over. "Ducky back yet?"
Abby laughs nervously. "No, a friend of mine just got tickets to LaserFace this weekend and wanted to know if I wanted to go. They're a new local band who are just amazing. They say if you listen hard enough, you actually feel like you're levitating."
To his credit, Gibbs tries to look interested. It just comes off as annoyed. But Abby has enough time to shoot Tony a text, Ducky's back and you better be too. Gibbs will be upstairs soon. And don't forget, I need my CafPow and more CafPowder. Gibbs keeps eating it.
She puts her cell phone back on her lab bench. Then, she puts the finishing touches on Wax-Doll Gibbs. Buttons on his plaid sportscoat. Laces on his shoes. A little extra curl to his lips to compensate for the newly deepened scowl. When she holds up Wax Doll Gibbs, he earns a glare from Real Gibbs.
Abby grins broadly. "Isn't he cute?"
"Yeah, real cute."
Before he can say what he really thinks, Major Mass Spec and her computer bleat for her attention. Mr. PCR just chugs away to himself. She dives into Major Mass Spec first because, out of all of her machines, he is the neediest. But he also does everything she asks and never lets her down. Unlike her computer, who throws up the blue screen of surrender whenever he feels lazy.
Gibbs reaches the machine before she does. He goes after the buttons, but she slides between them.
She makes a few adjustments. Stares at the screen.
"Just like we thought!" she exclaims, pointing at the chemical make-up on the screen.
Gibbs tilts his head. Abby sighs. Obviously, Gibbs' telepathy isn't working. She expected him to look at her and just know what she knows. Just like he always does. But today, he doesn't. Maybe it isn't good that he was locked in her lab all morning. Not being loose in the field tends to mess with his mojo.
She makes a face. "The trace chemical on Phillips' gloves was C4. Homemade and a very specific blend."
"Which means Phillips could've been a bomb maker." Gibbs frowns. "Not a drug runner like Daley thought."
Abby turns to her computer next. There, she finds a match from the Missing Persons' Database. When she brings up the picture of the missing person, it is identical to the image of the corpse right down to the a scar.
"Is a bomb maker." Abby points to her screen. "I got a hit on the picture of the dead guy. It looks like he might be Arthur Douglas, 34. His mother reported him missing fourteen years ago." She brings up more information with a few clicks. "He's got a fun history with arrests for forgery, gun possession, and impersonating a cop from 1995-2003."
Gibbs surveys the information. "Petty criminal looking for a big score."
"And Phillips?" she asks.
"Dirtbag looking for a way out. Can you prove the vic is Douglas?"
Abby nods resolutely. "As soon as Mr. PCR fin – " Mr. PCR beeps. "Nevermind. As soon as I get the DNA sample from Metro and compare the two."
Gibbs suddenly turns more serious. "What about Phillips being a bomb maker?"
"Every bombmaker has their own signature." Abby rushes back to Major Mass Spec and Gibbs follows. "I haven't seen that blend yet and it's distinctive enough that I would've remembered if I'd seen it. I'll run it through the database and reach out to some friends to see if I get any information."
Abandoning Wax-Doll Gibbs for now, Abby dives back into her computer to search for Ransom Phillips' bomb making signature. Gibbs waits, breathing down her neck, for a while. Then, he leaves for a moment. When he returns, he has the rest of Abby's CafPowder packers in his hands. He chugs a few of them. Thankfully, she quickly comes up empty on her preliminary search.
"It looks like Ransom Phillips hasn't made a bomb for a while," she says.
"It's always just a matter of time," Gibbs says.
He throws his head back to swallow the last packet of CafPowder. Before Abby can calculate the LD50 for Gibbs' body weight, a strange whoosing sound echoes through the lab. It's the containment seal to the lab door being broken. Gibbs is already on the move.
Jimmy Palmer steps inside, grinning sheepishly. "Hey guys. Sorry, it took so – "
When Gibbs doesn't slow down, Jimmy dives out of the way. Then, just like that, Gibbs is gone. With his back flat against the wall, Jimmy's face is tense. He clutches a clipboard to his chest.
"What was that all about?" he asks.
"We made a break in the case." Abby nearly panics. "I need to let them know!"
Jimmy joins her by the lab bench. "Let who know what?"
Scooping up her cell phone, Abby frantically texts Tony, Gibbs is loose. I repeat, Gibbs is on the loose. Get back to your battle stations ASAP. We made a break in the case. She only manages to send the basic details, rapid-fire, about Phillips' gloves. Jimmy leans to examine the results on her computer screen.
Before she texts Tony about how Phillips isn't Phillips, Jimmy's clipboard gets a little too close to the billowing Bunsen burner. His papers catch fire and he drops them right onto the lab bench. Abby scrambles to put the flames out by smothering them with a nearby towel.
By the time she is done, Wax-Doll Gibbs is melted like the Wicked Witch of the West.
