a/n - Not too long, but this is where it wanted to break, and who am I to argue. I've got the next two chapters ready to be posted on the current story for my gen profile and am working on the next chapter of Impressions for this profile. I'll have to spend more time on my Secret Santa fic soon, so that should keep you busy. If you're looking for my other profile, check my favorites :) You'll also notice that I've upped the rating on this story. We're not to the sex yet, but the details are becoming a bit too graphic for a teen rating IMHO.
The few moments of privacy he'd been given when Gibbs walked outside with Dr. Mallard were enough for Kort to slip into his leather harness and replace the sweatshirt. Gibbs noticed the added bulk the moment he walked back inside. "You can't be serious."
"Need to keep my cover intact, Gibbs. You know how it works." The smirk was back, but didn't quite match the look in Kort's eyes.
Gibbs felt a certain level of responsibility for the man that had saved Tim's life. "Thought you said they'd expect you to be punished? How do you plan to explain that?"
"It's been taken care of." Kort moved past him, but Gibbs grabbed the shirt, pulling it up enough to see a few of the red stripes across his lower back.
"What the hell..." Gibbs quickly thought back to the short time he was away from the house, when he'd returned from the Yard, Ducky was calmly brewing a pot of tea while Kort was moving very stiffly. His voice raised almost an octave. "Ducky?"
Kort carefully straightened the fabric of the sweatshirt he would wear until he got near the club. "Your people are always full of surprises, Gibbs. If you haven't heard from me by 0900, assume my cover's been blown and get the kid to a safe house."
"Damn it, Kort, there's got to be another way."
"I'm a big boy, Gibbs. I know what I'm doing and this is too important to walk away from. Just keep the kid safe."
"I will." Gibbs knew what a risk Kort was taking. "Keep yourself safe, too."
Kort gave him a sardonic smile and walked out the door. Once he was alone, Gibbs carefully locked every door and window before retrieving his sniper rifle from the hidden drawer in his workbench and heading upstairs.
-NCIS-
"Thank you for coming back in, Mr. Palmer. I understand this makes a very long day for you."
Jimmy blushed slightly as he shrugged. "I know how important this is." He looked around before lowering his voice. "How is McGee doing?"
"As cliche as it sounds, I suppose he is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Physically, he is healing, but the rest will take some time, I'm afraid." Ducky leaned close to study the body. "Well let us see exactly what you had planned for our young man."
Ducky was only a few minutes into the autopsy when Jimmy's eyes widened. "Is that...?"
"Bring the light closer, Mr. Palmer, if you would." With the light angled up into the opened chest cavity, Ducky peered up into the throat, reaching into the trachea with his longest pair of forceps. It took several tugs before the object came loose and Ducky dropped it into the tray that Jimmy held out. "Well, the good news is that we have located one missing body part."
Jimmy felt an almost uncontrollable urge to cross his legs as he stared at the severed penis. "So, where's his scrotum?"
Ducky checked the rest of the trachea before slicing open the esophagus and stomach. "That, Mr. Palmer, is a very good question."
-NCIS-
"Boss?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tim looked up in alarm when Gibbs came in not only wearing his SIG, but carrying a rifle.
Gibbs rushed to reassure him. "It's just a precaution, Tim."
"What's different about tonight?"
"Tim..."
"What's happening?"
Gibbs leaned the rifle against the nightstand before sitting next to McGee on the bed, wrapping his arm around Tim's shoulders. "Kort's going back to the club tonight."
McGee immediately knew what that could mean. "If his cover was compromised," Tim glanced over at the rifle, then down at the holster.
"I won't let them touch you." Gibbs pulled him close and cupped his face with his free hand. "No one is laying a hand on you again, I give you my word."
-NCIS-
"Are you all right, Jimmy?"
Not even registering the rare use of his first name, Palmer continued to stare at the body. "Did he choke to death or bleed to death, Dr. Mallard? And if he bled to death, was it from the amputation or the baseball bat?"
Ducky covered the body and pulled off his gloves before steering Palmer to the table, pushing down on his shoulder to encourage him to sit down. Once Palmer was seated, Ducky quickly started a pot of tea, avoiding the question until he was able to pour two cups and join his assistant at the desk. "I haven't seen a body that brutalized since Bosnia. I'm sorry you had to see that at all, my dear lad."
"I keep thinking that could have been Tim."
"Ahh, but it wasn't. Our boy is safe and recovering even as we speak."
"Is he safe? I mean, he knows what they do, what they did. Are they really just going to let him walk away from them?"
Ducky thought about Palmer's questions. "It certainly is not over, but Jethro will keep him safe. Of that I have no doubt. Now, I'm perfectly capable of finishing up on my own, Mr. Palmer. Why don't you head on home?
Jimmy took a deep breath and straightened up. "It's all right, Dr. Mallard, I can do this."
Smiling broadly at his assistant, Ducky leaned close and patted his hand. "That's a good lad."
-NCIS-
Even the Beretta Gibbs sometimes carried as a back-up was too heavy for McGee's damaged wrists, so when he insisted on a weapon, Gibbs pulled out a small Raven .25 auto. He'd bought it years ago for an undercover op, but the small trigger guard was too uncomfortable for his thick fingers. In Tim's long, slender hands, it was a much better fit. The small caliber didn't have a lot of stopping power, but if someone got past Gibbs, it would give McGee another layer of protection.
Logically, Gibbs knew that if Kort was made, they wouldn't move on them tonight, but preparing made him feel much more in control. Now he was sitting up on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. His SIG was out of the holster and tucked underneath his hip, while the Beretta was strapped to his ankle. The Raven was under McGee's pillow, even though the younger man was draped across Gibbs, his face resting on his stomach. One lamp was on and had been moved to the floor to give off the minimum amount of light and the heavy dresser had been dragged in front of the bedroom door. Gibbs knew that no one could get in without a lot of trouble and without making a lot of noise, but he had no intention of sleeping. Instead, he concentrated on the warmth of Tim's breath against his stomach as he slowly stroked his hand up and down the younger man's back.
-NCIS-
"Dude, how long did you wait to do laundry?"
Startled by the voice, Tony looked up as his neighbor dropped a bag of clothes in the middle of the floor while he looked at all the washers currently in use. "Sorry, man, didn't think anybody would be needing them this time of night. Those two should be done soon."
The blonde haired man checked the timer on one of the washers Tony pointed to, then back at the pile of clothes Tony had waiting. "Nah, it's okay, I'll wait until tomorrow. Unlike somebody, I've still got clean clothes." Whistling, he turned and went back upstairs. Tony sighed and checked his watch; it was going to be a long night.
-NCIS-
When his phone vibrated at 0500, Gibbs grabbed it instantly, but answered it cautiously. "Yeah?" The accented voice was calm and steady.
~In and out, with my cover still intact.~
"And your operation?"
~Questionable. By telling them how much control my former master still has over me, I've been weakened in their eyes.~
"Now what?"
~Now I wait.~
Gibbs listened to the dial tone for a moment before closing his phone. Tim had been silent throughout the conversation, but the tenseness in his body told Gibbs that he was awake and listening to every word. "It's okay, Tim, he made it out."
The whispered 'thank God' was barely vocalized, but Gibbs understood. Suddenly exhausted, he set his SIG on the nightstand and scooted down on the bed, rearranging them so that Tim's head was resting on his shoulder.
-NCIS-
Vance arrived at his office at 0700 hoping to do paperwork in peace only to find Fornell waiting for him. "Agent Fornell, isn't it a little early for the FBI to be out and about?" He opened his office door and waited for the other man to follow him in. Before he closed the door, he looked over at his assistant. "Coffee?"
Pamela smiled and nodded. "Already brewing, Sir."
Fornell sat, waiting uncomfortably, while Vance hung up his coat and booted up his computer. Finally the Director turned his attention to his guest. "I assume you're here about Stephenson."
"I was hoping to at least have a copy of the autopsy results by now, Director Vance. I understand why this is a NCIS case, but he was one of my agents." Fornell leaned back, waiting to see how this was going to play out.
There was nothing in his email, so Vance directed the question to his assistant as she walked in, carrying two cups of coffee.
She shook her head. "Dr. Mallard didn't sign out from doing the autopsy until about 0400. He left a voice mail that he and Mr. Palmer wouldn't be in this morning and that the report wouldn't be ready until this afternoon."
"I thought this case was a top priority for your agency."
Vance glared at him before returning his attention to Pamela. "Do we know why there was a delay with the autopsy?"
"Dr. Mallard said that the less people that saw the body, the better."
Fornell wasn't satisfied. "Well, I want to see the body and the evidence you have so far, and I want to talk to Gibbs. Need to know how he's planning on spinning this."
