Author's Note: Hey guys, whoa--what a stack of wonderful reviews. I never imagined this would attract a cluster of fans, but I'm glad that it has. I hope I can continue to keep this fic interesting. Thank you all very much for taking the time to write reviews. I read every single one of them and I do take them into consideration, always. Again, I'm always open for any suggestions. Lastly, Enjoy the chapter and I'll get working on the next as soon as I possibly can. -Geek.
Chapter 8: Distress
The Marine does not care for the man that sits across the hardened table. His sympathy and empathy have sadly drifted away--made their way across the great lakes and sunk into the deep ocean blue. And he can sense this loss, but he really couldn't give a fuck.
"I WANT ANSWERS!" He smacks the table violently.
"I told you I don't know anything!" The harkened man that sits across from him is near a breaking point--what ever it may be. "I know you're gray enough to be on the same page as my grandmother, but you hardly seem deaf."
The smart-mouth suspect sat back with a satisfied grin. Only a second ago he looked as if he were shaking in his boots. The personalities of criminals is endless.
"You'll never find me guilty of anything, Agent Gibbs." He huffs. "Do I look like a criminal?"
"You don't have to look like one in order to be one." His voice is unnervingly calm. "And never say never."
"I'll say just what the fuck I want!"
Gibbs purses his smooth lips and glares at the younger man.
McGee views the interrogation from the two-way mirror. His tan jacket nearly matches the one his boss is sporting on this particular Monday afternoon.
He watches Gibbs, but this time he watches for unusual signs rather than notes to mentally file when it comes to conducting an interrogation. Yes, today his duties are split. His job is to work with the boss and work against the boss. A task that has slowly started to make him more nervous than he ever was before.
He turns around when he hears someone enter. It is Tony and his face is as serious as a long list of Presidents and other government officials that have graced the face of networks in and around America during a political speech.
"Boss man crack him yet?" He sounds hopeful, but that look of his says otherwise.
"Something's different." McGee hardly wants to believe it, but there is no way to take it back now. "Seems annoyed." He catches Tony's look. "Okay, more than usual…"
Tony looks at Gibbs through the two-way mirror. He is stalking around the younger man--and shouting. His face is so unbelievably red, his blue eyes spitting laser beams of blue at the piece of shit in front of him.
"Boss man's totally lost it." Tony says without a touch of humor. "Should we get him out of there?"
"We shouldn't, but 'you' should."
"I will not." Tony's well on his way to start a bickering match. "He loves me already--it's you that he's still unsure about."
"Right…and that's why I should go ahead and--"
A loud thud fills the tiny room they are in. Their necks snap back to face forward and face the two-way mirror. Once they register what is happening, they both run from the room and burst through the door of the interrogation room.
Ducky sits at his clean and organized office desk while his few autopsy tables lay spotless behind him. He dots a few "I's" and he crosses a few "T's" on a few reports he had let slip past him over the last week.
When the double doors open, he greets whoever it may be, but does not take his eyes off the task at hand.
"Ducky." Director Shepard addresses him.
"Ah--Director Shepard." He catches her disapproving look. "My apologies--Jen--how are you and what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Ducky." She gives him a warm, playful smile. "I am well, thank you." She sees him waiting for her to continue. "I'd like to get your input on incomplete case…"
He thinks quickly for a moment, then puts the pen down, and turns to face her. "What exactly does an incomplete case mean--to a person such as myself?" He finishes with a soft smile.
"You never conducted an autopsy because there were no dead bodies found at the crime scene."
"Ah." He pin-points the case instantly, though it twists his gut slightly. "You are speaking of the Branson case. Mr. Palmer and myself made an appearance per Jethro's request."
"Agent Gibbs insisted that you both arrived after a previous crime scene."
"Previous crime scene?" Ducky shrugs. "I wouldn't know what that could be about. I do favors for a few other agency's, but I haven't gone outside of NCIS…outside of Gibbs' team for a little over five months now."
Jenny can feel her face flush. It is not from embarrassment, it is from anger.
Ducky sees the look in her eyes and carefully tries to control the situation by speaking quickly, yet not quickly enough for her to suspect the lies he is about to tell her.
"Jethro always seems to be one step ahead." He holds up his finger as he if he is touching a delicate memory. "I remember once a long time ago--not long enough in the context you might be thinking, but I remember--"
"Ducky." She stops him before he begins a long story. "What Agent Gibbs did was wrong."
"I can not imagine how." He plays it coolly. "When has Gibbs ever took kindly to letting a stranger poke and stick him--especially when injured? Besides, Officer David was with him--and she hardly comes across a person who is willing to let strangers near, even for a casual conversation."
"Yes, well, Officer David isn't with us any longer…" She finds this the perfect opportunity to more or less, change the subject. "I'd like to know your thoughts on that, doctor."
"Me?" He gets a slight case of the jitters for a split second. "A literal shame to see our young Ziva go…" He starts to question himself--wondering if what he has said is good enough to satisfy whatever itch she is having.
"And the prints?"
"Prints?" His forehead creases.
"Agent Gibbs' fingerprints were found on the outside of a condom wrapper." Both of her eyebrows lift in order to emphasize the issue. "Any idea why that may be?"
"Oh dear…" He says to her, but inside he is a raging ball of fury. "…Perhaps a investigation tactic?"
"So he says…" She instantly remembers DiNozzo telling her about Gibbs' answer in the previous days. "Any thought on whom his partner might have been?"
He tries to inhale easily and exhale just as easily, but he can not stop the slight sake to his hands.
"No." He says casually. "I'm afraid there isn't a way to find out unless Jethro tells one of us."
"My thoughts exactly…" She steps closer to him. "What's a little discussion between two long-time friends?" She does not wait for his answer. "A big break in a big case."
"Are you telling me you'd like me to trick Jethro into telling me his personal business?" Ducky feels angered by her request.
"Gibbs' gives away his personal business and his personal rights the moment he steps foot on the job!" She lets her rage flare a bit. "What he did on the job was uncalled for."
"I am sure the same could be said for a certain part of your history with the man in question, Director." Ducky stands from his chair. "I will not prey on him innocently and then run away from him with private information."
She takes Ducky's loyalty into great consideration, but her personal anger and professional position forces her to continue.
"If you are withholding any information--"
"I assure you Director, I am not!" He is beginning to feel the pressure at this very moment. "If Gibbs so much as drops a bomb on me--one that will help tie up any loose ends, then naturally I will urge him to confess or I will take it upon myself to do it for him--for the rest of the team." He stops a moment to catch a much needed breath. "Yes, it looks bad that his fingerprints were found at the crime scene, but should we really be calling it a crime scene when there weren't any bodies to be moved?"
"Something happened there." She is insistent. "I can feel it and Agent DiNozzo feels it." She sees his eyes urging to look anywhere, but her, yet they do not move. "Officer David left for a reason."
"Then perhaps the person to question is a plane ride away." He states.
She takes a long, hard look at him before spinning on her heels and fleeing the morgue.
Ducky lets go of a breath he never knew he was holding. His insides squeeze as he realizes that by lying to protect a dear friend, he has forced more pressure on Ziva.
The front door is pushed open a smidge. Tony's slender, but not exactly-that-muscular-body slips through the small opening and closes the door quickly--before neighbors or passerby's can see him.
The task was easy. He and the rest of Gibbs' team knew that he never did find a reason to lock his door.
He spots the opening to the basement and quickly jogs down the steps. He figures the faster he reaches his could-be destination, the more time he has to find a decent hiding spot in case Gibbs were to return home.
His fingers dance across the tools and other hardware supplies that riddle Gibbs' work tables. Turning around he takes notice to the clearing in the middle of the room. Once there lay a boat…now there lay nothing.
Turning back to the table, he begins to pull open drawers and sift through knick-knacks in hopes he might find a piece of paper or a case folder. Something concrete--something physically stable to prove something--anything.
His fingers slither underneath the tables. He is near giving up and leaving when his finger gets nicked. He quickly takes a look at his finger and sees a splinter sticking out of it. Grabbing a hold of the tip, he yanks it out of his finger quickly. The light is very dim and he makes a mental note to double check on it later. The last thing he needs is a piece of Gibbs' basement stuck inside his skin, mixing in with his DNA--and possibly, for whatever reason, ending up in one of Abby's machines. The jig would seriously be up then.
Sighing, he leans against one of the tables and crosses his arms over his chest. One of his hands comes up to rub the back of his head, sadly always sore from repetitive whacks to the back of it.
When his eyes wander to his feet, it is there he notices a scrap bin tucked in the corner full of wood, saw-dust, and a single piece of paper. Straightening himself, he creeps over to the bin and pulls out the paper.
Ziva, we need to talk. About what happened. About everything.
-Gibbs
Tony's voice catches in his throat. Waiting a moment, he places the paper on the ground and pulls out his cell phone. He takes a quick snap shot and his phone creates a flash. He looks at the image to make sure it is clear and visible. Stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he then places the paper back into the bin laying just the way found it.
Turning around, he quickly jogs up the creaky wooden stairs, sneaks out he front door, and makes a bee line towards the sidewalk. Normally, he begins to walk in the direction of his car--which he parked two blocks away.
With his legs open and his lips still pursed, he tries to block out the shrieking voice of the read-head that towers over her desk.
"You better have a damn good reason, Jethro."
"He had it comin'." His attitude is careless.
"So does every other asshole you've let into that interrogation room!"
"He'll be just fine."
"You began the interrogation before his lawyer showed--then you violently threw him against the wall. Of course he'll be fine, but NCIS is going to suffer for your stupidity and carelessness."
"I assure you I took considerable care…" He trails on. "…as I slammed him against the wall…" He finishes in a mumble.
"This isn't funny, Jethro."
"I never thought it was." His head is beginning to throb--a feeling he has developed since his unusual intake of bourbon--or really, lack of. "Are we done here?" He stands abruptly.
"SIT DOWN, AGENT GIBBS!" The voice he never knew could get any louder, just did. "I won't have you disrespecting me. I am your superior."
"So that means you'd like to be on top?" He shoots daggers at her. "Don't give me this bureaucratic bullshit--not now, not ever. I know exactly where you and I stand."
Her nostrils flare, but she can not find anything to say to him.
"Consider this your second warning."
"The first being?" He becomes curious.
"Ziva's departure." She throws it in his face as if she knows the truth. "One more and I call in IA." He smirks at the mention of Internal Affairs. "Don't think I won't, Jethro." Her voice softens a smidge. She watches as his grin increases in size. "Get the hell out of my office."
He lets his teeth show as his lazy grin turns into a full-fledged smug grin--and then leaves her office.
The tech-smart Agent sneaks small glances at his boss. Guilt wiggles around his soft gut, but he forces himself to push it aside--his dedication to Tony's request is important to him and he will not fall back on his word.
"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs looks directly into McGee's working quarters.
"Don't know. He stepped out." He offers a shrug.
"You don't know…or he stepped out?" Gibbs is threatening in with an intense look.
"…I don't know…" McGee finally caves and goes with the easiest answer. "I could call him--"
"Leave it alone." Gibbs hit's a few keys on his keyboard. "We'll work the case until he returns."
McGee is grateful for the instruction and begins working at his computer.
The dim lights aluminates their work area. The darkness outside can be seen through the buildings large windows.
Tony throws his backpack on top of his desk. McGee nervously scans the area before turning his attention to Tony.
"Where have you been?!" He stands from his chair and reaches Tony's desk. "I thought Gibbs would never leave!"
"Yeah-yeah, whatever Probie--sit down." He shoves the younger Agent in his chair and blocks any way of him escaping. "Complications."
"…As in…" His nervousness is slipping away because Tony just happens to sound stupid at the moment.
"There's something there." His eyes flicker to the staircase. "The Director leave yet?"
"I don't know." McGee shrugs. "What does the Director have to do with this?"
"Shh--shut up! Nothing Probie, Nothing at all!" His voice is harsh whisper.
"What the hell's going on, Tony? And where were you?" McGee's patience is slipping and his tiredness for having to deal with a disgruntled Gibbs all day is gripping at his last bundle of nerves.
"I was at Gibbs' house."
"You broke into Gibbs' house?"
"The door was open." Tony rolls his eyes. "It's always open--anybody could just walk in there."
"You're not just anybody, Tony."
"Listen!" He snaps. "Gibbs 'is' hiding something…" He swallows.
"What makes you so sure?" A part of McGee refuses to agree.
"Let's just say I found something--"
"The condom to go with the wrapper we already have?!" McGee's eyes light up.
"Ew! No!" Tony whacks him on the back of his head. "Do you really think I'd touch a used condom?"
"Couldn't be anymore germy than half the women you've been with." McGee is rewarded with another whack to the back of the head. "One more and I swear I'll--"
"Easy, easy…" Tony inhales and backs away a little. "This isn't a joke, Probie."
"I'm not laughing, Tony." McGee's tone is sarcastic, yet serious. "What did you find?"
"A piece of paper--Gibbs wanted to talk to Ziva about something."
"Is this recent?"
"I'd have to run it by Abby… 'maybe' she can figure out when it was written…" Tony is stressed. "I'm having a hard time…with all of this."
"Well, you can only take it one step at a time, Tony…"
"'We' can take it on step at a time, Probie!" Tony corrects him. "There's o way in hell I'm going down alone."
"If you're so afraid to stick it to Gibbs--why bother?" McGee directly asks him.
Tony stands there; staring at his partner. Director Shepard's voice enters his mind and he visually flashes back to their meeting a few days prior.
"Because I care about Ziva…and I want her back." He tells him half the truth, yet and still, that 'is' good enough.
The bunker is dark; only a soft light from a bulb that dangles in the middle of the ceiling. Ziva sits with her back against the wall dressed in dingy tan cargo pants and a black t-shirt. Her skin is darker and so are her emotionless eyes.
She grips her weapon and checks it for the millionth time since she has arrived. A loud rumble ahead makes the bulb flicker and slightly swing. Staring at it, she remembers why it burns her with a recent memory…
"Ziva, please…"
"Look at me…I can't…"
Her eyes quickly look away as shame begins to show itself again. Shaking her heard, she rids herself of the memory and begins focusing on her gun once again.
