a/n - head*desk, head*desk. Eighteen hours after being discharged from the hospital, he leaves for an out of town rehearsal. I'm not sure that's what the doctor meant when she said to take it easy until he's fully recovered. Sigh, do all young men think they're indestructible?
DiNozzo seemed agitated when he moved to stand in front of Gibbs' desk. "Scuttlebutt says that all was not happy in the Harden marriage."
Gibbs wasn't surprised, but that was still a big jump to murder. "Most unhappy marriages end in divorce, any idea why this one didn't?"
"Apparently, the Colonel inherited five million dollars last year and the wife was not happy that he never mentioned his family's money before she signed a prenuptial agreement. In a divorce, she walks away with less than twenty grand, but as his grieving widow..." Tony let his voice fade off, knowing that Gibbs would put the pieces together.
"That's one heck of a motive. Have you found a connection between her and our nurse?"
"Not yet, Boss. The guys in cybercrimes are helping with that part of the search."
"Keep on it with them then, and see how Abby's doing with the DNA match." When Tony didn't move back to his desk, Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Something else on your mind, DiNozzo?"
"Just thinking I should get the head slap now, save some time." It was almost a challenge.
Gibbs shook his head. "I'm not mad because McGee confided in you."
"No, but I'm probably going to be yelling at Abby in a few minutes." While waiting for Ziva to arrive at the hospital, he and McGee had come to an understanding. He wouldn't tell Gibbs, unless Gibbs asked, and now that they were alone Tony was determined to make sure Gibbs asked the right questions.
"Why?" Gibbs couldn't remember Tony ever raising his voice to the Goth, but something had driven McGee to hide his pain, something that DiNozzo had discovered.
"Has she asked you about how McGee is doing?"
"Not lately, but she's been pretty busy with the lab work."
"Busy with the lab work, but she still had enough time to call every dog kennel within fifty miles of Silver Spring and not call once about McGee." Tony returned to his desk and pulled a stack of papers out of the bottom drawer. "I got Tim to give me these last night before he left."
Gibbs started looking through the pages Tony dumped on his desk. Emails from Abby to McGee, filled with lists of dog spas, dog groomers, dog toys, the prices hand written in McGee's neat handwriting, each more elaborate and expensive than the page before. "Are you kidding me? Two hundred and forty dollars for a wall mounted dog bowl, one hundred and ninety four dollars for a dog rain coat?" Gibbs couldn't believe what he was reading as he moved on to the next page. "Exfoliating treatments at ninety dollars a pop, cream rinses from the south of France for another fifty? He's not actually spending all this on that dog, is he?"
Seeing Gibbs' reaction relaxed Tony just a bit. "Boss, with the hours we work, the doggie day care was costing him more than the rent on his apartment."
"Was?"
Tony sat on the corner of Gibbs' desk and lowered his voice. "He never wanted the dog, Boss, you know that. Abby bullied and pushed until he didn't have a choice. He did the best he could, but a trained dog like that needs an owner that can devote a lot of time to it."
"Just tell me that he found Jethro a good home."
"A family with a couple of kids to spoil him rotten. There's a few acres to run around in and he's happy as a lark. He's actually been trained as a companion dog for their handicapped son. Jethro's been with them for a couple of months now."
"Months? But Abby..."
"Just sends these lists of things she thinks McGee should buy for the dog. She hasn't been around to see the dog or help with him since the weekend McGee took him home. All this time, his arm never healed properly and Abby is still punishing him for defending himself. It's not right, Boss, it's just not right."
"No, it's not." Gibbs leaned back in his chair, staring up through the skylight. "That's why he didn't tell any of us about him needing surgery?"
"Yeah. Between her treatment of him and none of us taking his problems seriously, he really felt like he had to go it alone."
"Dammit." Gibbs paused before continuing, the worry apparent in his voice. "His arm, how bad is it?"
"Best case, it heals up completely and he retains full function of his hand."
The older man was almost afraid to ask. "And worst case?" The look on the younger man's gave him the answer. "Career ending?"
"Yeah."
Decision made, Gibbs stood, gathering the papers. "On second thought, I'll go check with Abby. You stay on the connection between the nurse and our merry widow."
Vance was coming out of the lab when Gibbs stepped off the elevator. "Extra lab equipment is here and set up."
"Good." Gibbs sounded less than pleased and Vance gave him a closer look.
"Looks like you figured out what's wrong with your team."
Gibbs shook the pages at him. "How much did you know about this?"
"McGee was pretty vague, but I've gotten rather good at reading between the lines when it comes to your team. Is Miss Sciuto about to receive her first ever head slap?"
"Turned over my knee is more like it." Gibbs didn't wait for a response, not stopping until he was standing behind Abby in the lab, watching as she loaded the last of the samples in the borrowed machines. She turned and jumped in surprise.
"Gibbs, I didn't hear you come in."
"Uh uh."
Suddenly nervous as he glared at her, she started to babble. "I'm running the DNA from the sample Tony brought back against the sample we got from Capt. Andrews, but it's going to take until morning. I've also got DNA from the needle covers. They were so careful to wear gloves, but somebody bit down on the covers when they pulled them off the needles, probably because they didn't have a free hand and..."
"You still calling kennels?"
"I gave him a list of kennels, Gibbs. Why didn't he use one of those?"
Gibbs started laying the pages down in front of her. "You mean these lists?" For a moment she looked unsure and he pressed his advantage. "Add them up."
"What?"
He pointed to four pages, from four consecutive weeks. "It was a simple request. Add up the amounts, tell me exactly how much money you expected McGee to spend on the dog in one month."
"I didn't look at the prices very closely."
Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. "Don't start lying to me now, Abby. You sent him the links, obviously you read the details. " He stood next to her as she meekly ran the numbers. He'd skimmed the prices on his way down and knew the cheapest weekly list was just under one thousand dollars, the most expensive, a little over three.
When the total showed on the computer screen, Abby wouldn't look at it, nor at Gibbs. Behind her, Gibbs shook his head. "You have a rather inflated opinion of what field agents are paid, Abby, but it's not really about the dog, is it? Just can't see him having his nails done every week like some show Poodle. How long are you going to keep punishing McGee?"
"But Gibbs, he shot Jethro."
"No, Abby, he shot a violent, drugged dog that was trying to kill him. He defended himself just enough to stop the attack. The dog was recovered enough to be dancing with you just a few hours later. It's been a year and a half and McGee's still needing medical treatment for his injuries. Just who got the worst end of the deal?"
She was staring at her feet. "Timmy did."
"But you still expect him to financially destroy himself supporting the dog like this?"
"Jethro needs him."
"Does he? The Navy had another trainer ready for him, but you conned me into forcing them into releasing him because you wanted him so bad. Turned out you didn't have permission to have a dog in your apartment, isn't that right?"
A silent nod was his only answer.
"You could have broken the lease on your apartment and moved to someplace that allowed pets, right?"
This time she did look up. "But that would have..."
"What? Been too much work? Inconvenient? Expensive? But you expected McGee to totally turn his life upside down while he was still suffering, and all for a dog you lost interest in pretty darn quick."
"That's really mean, Gibbs."
"Truth hurts sometimes, Abs, doesn't make it any less true." He left the printouts on her table and turned to leave. She waited until he was at the door.
"Gibbs, where is Jethro?"
He hadn't planned on telling her, but maybe it would make his point. "Jethro is now a companion dog for a handicapped little boy, with a family that cherishes them both. It sounds like McGee found him the perfect solution."
Tim blinked, slowly remembering that he had to use his right hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Daylight was just starting to creep through the window, softly illuminating his hospital room. It was too early for breakfast, so he decided that going back to sleep was his best option. Just before he closed his eyes, he turned to see who his current guard was.
"Boss?"
Half awake, Tim tried to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "It's still early, McGee, go back to sleep." The hand moved from his shoulder to his forehead, the warm pressure comforting and relaxing, the encroaching sleep slurring his words.
"Sorry... sorry for all the trouble, Boss."
"No, Tim, I'm the one that should be sorry." That woke Tim up completely, but he laid still while he listened. Gibbs was looking at the heavy bandages and shaking his head. "I made you drive back to the Yard after you'd been mauled and I ordered you to transport your attacker. You even had to drive yourself to the hospital. It wasn't right, but I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that you were injured."
"You asked me if I was okay."
Gibbs had a sad smile as he looked into the sleepy green eyes. "I'm the team leader, McGee, it's my responsibility to make sure. I let you down, and then I let Abby run roughshod over you, and not just about the dog."
Tim hated the look of guilt he saw on the older man's face and struggled to stay awake. "Just the way she is, Boss. Not your fault."
The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched. Usually when he gave an apology, the recipient was too stunned to say anything. Instead, he couldn't get McGee to stop arguing. "I should have stepped in when she forced you to take the dog."
Now wide awake, Tim picked at the edge of the blanket with his good hand. "What happened to me wasn't really Jethro's fault. He..."
When McGee's voice trailed off, Gibbs let him know that he now knew. "You found him a good home. She has no right to complain with what you did." Watching the younger man's shoulders suddenly sag, Gibbs knew how heavily the fear of disappointment weighed on him.
"He... he was a good dog, but it wasn't fair to make him spend so much time at day care or kennels. I've known Gary and Karen since grad school. They were on a waiting list to get a service dog for their epileptic son. With his background as a drug detection dog, it only took a few days for Jethro to learn to recognize an oncoming seizure and what to do. Robby's eight and this is his first chance at just being a kid."
Gibbs was surprised to find himself choking up just a little. "Sounds like you did a good thing for both Jethro and his new family." The arrival of Palmer saved him from saying more, so he changed the subject, patting McGee's good arm as he stood. "Palmer is going to stay with you while I check in at the office. I'll be back when they release you later."
"It's okay, Boss, Jimmy can give me a ride home."
"Palmer doesn't have a key to my house, McGee." He bent down and tapped the top of Tim's head. "You're staying at my place for a few days until you've recovered more."
"Boss?"
A sad look crossed Gibbs' face. "You're a member of my team, Tim. That's where you kids come when you're hurt. Tony's going to pack you some clothes from your apartment, so if there's anything else from there you need, let him know. I'll see you in a few hours."
Tim watched him leave before turning to Palmer, a questioning look on his face. Palmer just shrugged. "It really scared everybody when you went missing and they didn't know what was wrong with you or what happened."
