Whoo! Update! Yeah, go me. This chapter gets a WARNING for GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. Oh noes! D: Now for some review replies:

Fullmetal Embers: Heehee. That made me giggle.

lime juize: Thank you! I hope you like this new section. I feel like my writing's developed since the beginning, so it might have a lil different feel now.

demonwings2421: Well, my readers do a lot of waiting! So sorry, really, but you know that creative urge, all sporadic and whatnot.

NCISgirl2: 100th review! Thank you so much! Though slightly intelligible, I still appreciate it ;)


Chapter Nine: Love Bites and Tranq Dreams

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked as he laid his jacket over the back of his chair. Ziva and Tony, twitching their ears back, exchanged a look.

"I… don't know, boss," Tony said, reluctant. "Should I call him?" Gibbs just stared, and the senior agent changed his answer. "I mean, I will call him now." He picked up his phone and punched in Timothy's number. It rang until the tinny answering message sounded, and Tony shook his head. Gibbs picked his jacket back up and headed for the elevator.

"David, with me."

As Ziva scrambled to get her bag, Tony stood up. "What about me, Boss?"

"There's a new case on my desk. Look over it," Gibbs replied as the doors slid shut.

Tony pursed his lips and sighed as they disappeared. "You really think I can focus on that with this going on?"

As Gibbs and Ziva walked through the parking lot, Gibbs pulled out his cell and called Jenny. For several heartbeats it rang, and Gibbs jaw clenched. Then-

"Yes, Jethro?"

Gibbs sighed in relief. "Jenny, how're you doing?"

There was a moment of scrutinizing before she answered. "Fine. What's wrong with you?"

"McGee isn't at work, and he isn't answering his phone. Ziva and I are going to his place to see what's going on."

"Call me when you find out."

"Will do." Gibbs hung up and stuck the key in the ignition. Ziva was buckling up in the passenger's seat when he tore out of the lot and onto the road.

Ten minutes later, Gibbs had parked in front of Timothy's apartment complex and was making his way up the stairs. His gut twisted in worry, not the we're-in-danger instinct but more the something-very-bad-has-happened feeling. He picked his way down Timothy's hall and tried the door knob. Both their ears strained forward in the quiet and from somewhere within the apartment came a faint whimper.

They threw the door open with hands on the their guns to find Jethro laying on the floor in the doorway to the bedroom. The German Shepherd remained motionless but attempted to look up at them with dark eyes. He let out another whimper. Gibbs motioned Ziva through one end of the apartment, and he moved through the other. Once they confirmed it was empty, Ziva knelt beside the dog and used a light hand to touch its side. It yelped as she grazed its ribs.

"Broken," she said with a grime line to her lips and pointed at the blood trail from a spot by the wall to where Jethro lay. "It is coming from his mouth. He needs to go to an animal hospital." She moved to fashion a makeshift stretcher. Gibbs stepped further into the bedroom and noticed that it was in mild disarray, expected from a younger bachelor. Nothing seemed too out of place. In fact, there was some money in the open top drawer of his dresser that had not been touched. Ziva noticed it as well.

"It seems no one broke in. Nothing is stolen," Ziva looked up and around. "He can fight well- if someone had broken in, he probably could have taken them." She went back to the dog, and together they slid him onto a sheet. It whined then fell silent, save for its shallow breathing. "You do not think… "

Gibbs helped lift the dog and replied, "That McGee did this? I hope not. It's a 24 hour wait before we can file a missing persons report. For now, we can't do anything but wait for him to show up."

They took the injured dog to the nearest veterinary clinic where they were given a bleak prognosis. Gibbs called Jenny to tell her that they had found nothing substantial.

"Damn. For once, I hope someone's gone after one of my agents. It's better than the alternative."

Gibbs feigned gruff confidence on the other end. "McGee can take care of himself. I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine." I can't say the same for anyone near him. "Are we still gonna go to that ridiculous dinner at a time like this?"

"Yes," Jenny said with an exasperated edge. "It's important for the funding we're currently getting. All I need is for us to show up, say some nice words, and then it's done. I would appreciate it if you would do this for me." Her tone softened at the end, and Gibbs gave a little smile. "And for all we know, McGee's just taking a personal day." She mustered up enough confidence in her words that Gibbs could almost pretend to believe her.

"All right," he said with a begrudging sigh and, after a few more pleasantries, hung up. He had to go break it to Abby.

She was at her computer, tapping away at her keyboard, music blaring. It looked like some tedious task of entering data, but she went about it in her energetic way, nodding to the beat. Spinning in her chair, she gathered up a few more papers and set them before her, looking between them and the screen.

"Abby," Gibbs called from the doorway. "Abby!"

"Gibbs!" Abby smiled and jumped up to turn off the music. "What's up? Got some juicy evidence for me to dismantle?" Then she saw the unsmiling look on his face and became still as her grin fell. "What's wrong?"

"McGee is missing," Gibbs said. After hearing secondhand from Gibbs what was happening to Timothy, Abby had been worried out of her mind. Now once again that look of anxiety took over her eyes. "He never showed up for work, and when we checked out his place, the door was unlocked and Jethro was attacked. He's at the animal hospital right now."

At that, horror replaced anxiety, and she exclaimed, "What?! Who would do that to a poor, innocent, little-" Then she stopped in her tracks, as if remembering the first time she had met the dog, and that the words she was saying now were almost identical to then. The dog had worked for a narcotics unit and attacked Timothy when NCIS went in to search his owner's home. Timothy had shot the dog in an effort to defend himself, and Abby had demanded to know who could hurt an 'innocent' dog.

"No. Tim wouldn't- Did he-?" Abby asked, voice trembling.

"We don't know anything yet, Abby. Let's not jump to conclusions." Gibbs insisted. Abby put her hand over her mouth and wrapped her other arm around her middle, and Gibbs pulled her into a hug. "It's all right, Abby. Tim's fine, and Jethro's gonna be fine, too."

"Then where is he, Gibbs?" she asked. "How do we know he's not out there- hurting someone?"

Gibbs repressed a frown and just said, "Because- because it's McGee. He'll make it through. He's strong enough." Abby eventually nodded and let him go. "All right, I gotta go back up there." She sniffed and nodded again. Tim would be fine. She just had to believe it.

Later that night, Jenny gazed into her tall mirror, fixed a delicate necklace around her throat, and adjusted her dress. Her ivory white wings rested against her back, providing a splendid contrast to her black gown. She picked up a small purse and moved to leave the room, then hesitated.

Her mind deviated from the task at hand and phantom sensations of air buoying up beneath her wings made her tense up. What was she doing? Her hands found her bottom dresser drawer, and she took a knife in a sheath and strap out. She fastened it around her upper thigh, hidden beneath her dress. A small handgun, light and reliable, slipped into her purse.

And just like that, she came back. She groaned and rubbed her forehead. "What was I- oh, yes." She picked up her purse and hustled out the door, no notice of the new weight in her bag or the fabric against her leg.

There was a dinner to attend.

Timothy was cruising down the dark road, foot squeezing the gas pedal closer to the floor. He could feel the buildings flying passed and the thrum of his car working. Far ahead, two figures were crossing the street, complete strangers, and his body itched to put the pedal all the way down. No, his thoughts whispered. Not yet, not these two insignificant people. He slowed down and just whizzed around them- and grinned at the glimpse he got of their terrified faces.

He was going to work.

The parking lot outside NCIS was still dotted with the cars of employees working late. Timothy pulled with smooth precision into a visitor's space and got out. A cool night breeze stroked his face and ears, and he smiled against it. Where to first, where to first… he wondered. He strode into a side entrance without hesitation, jet black tail whipping in before it got clipped by the door.

"Hey, McGee?"

Timothy whirled to face Jimmy stepping from a back room, and a disgusted anger churned in the agent's gut. This spineless rabbit will ruin my element of surprise, he thought with an inward sneer. He gave the young ME a bright smile.

Jimmy smiled back but it faltered. He stepped closer to the agent, and a ripple of tension went over Timothy. "Aren't you- missing? And you look different. Your ears are… and your teeth look-"

Before Jimmy could react, Timothy whipped out a hand and punched him at the bridge of his nose. The glasses shattered and his eyes rolled back, but Timothy grabbed his limp body before he hit the ground and dragged him back into the room from where he had just come. He tossed the bits of debris from the glasses through the door and shut it tight.

He stood up straight and gave a hiss of satisfaction. That felt good, and it was decided. There was a certain lab to visit.

Abby suddenly looked up and twitched her bat ears around. She caught what seemed like a sound, but the distinct silence now was even more disturbing. She hummed in those pitches she heard so well and received the reflected waves. Nothing was out of place in any corner of her dimmed lair of a lab. Then what was this feeling of wrongness? Then her sensitive ears provided her with the reflection of a figure approaching in complete silence.

"Hello, Abigail."

Abby tried to scream in fear that struck her to the core, but a merciless strike sent her sprawling to the floor.

In the dinner hall of an extravagant hotel, Jenny sat with a professional smile next to a certain lead agent, who gave a quiet sigh. She looked at him in annoyance, and he returned the look with all seriousness.

"I don't think I can take much more of this, Jenny," Gibbs said, the humor deep in his tone. "Just them going on and on- 'My company this, my company that.' When may I leave?"

Jenny replied in a much lower tone, glaring but only just resisting his gentle, playful lull of amusement. "You just wait until after I-"

"And now a word from the Director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, Jennifer Shepard!" There was a lively spattering of applause as Jenny stood up at once, smiling as her scowl at Gibbs leaped away, and stepped with smooth grace towards the podium.

However, halfway between her table and the stage, she stopped. A dizzying pressure was building behind her eyes, within her very head. The glass ceiling far, far overhead showed a black and purple sky with the occasion speck of white stars, and her inner eye fixated on it. Her primaries trembled, an itching slipping up the very barbs of each feather, through her veins and the hollow bases into the delicate skin beneath. From the hollow wing bone to her nimble spine and long limbs, it was a tingling that blinded and distracted. Somewhere far away, a familiar voice cried out, "Jenny!" as people screamed and glass broke.

A bang ripped through the huge room.

Gibbs stumbled back into a table, arm hanging limp. He stared up in disbelief and pain. "Jenny," he whispered as she soared up. Her wings stood an inky black against the violet-hued night, and she spiraled up. Her mouth was twisted in a grin, but there was no laugh. Just silent, bloody victory.

"Jenny… "

Gibbs slipped to the floor as people cried out and blood poured from the hole in his arm, his eyes sliding shut. His body felt cold in the shock and sudden blood loss. Sirens would soon sound, but when the paramedics arrived and began to move Gibbs, he would resist and mumble, "Get Jenny, help her… help her…"

At that same time, Abby backpedaled towards a corner in her lab. Her face, tear-stained and bruised, showed true despair. The physical pain of her wounds and the broken wing trailing behind her was nothing next to the utter hopelessness and fear she felt for one of her closest friends.

"Tim," Abby said, wiping her cheek. "Tim, don't you remember me?"

Timothy stood not ten feet away and something- something faltered. The steel glint in his eye, the deranged, toothy smile- there was a twitch in the terrible mask. He stalked closer, and the only sound was Abby's gasping breath and the hum of the few remaining undamaged electronics. With a face slowly melting into blank shock, he laid his hands on her arms and pulled her with great effort to her feet. She trembled in fear, but she could feel it- every muscle in his body shaking so hard. Every bit of him straining forward to destroy, but at the same time, every bit of him resisting. The ache for destruction was powerful, but there was a love, a deep love, somewhere between friendship and unrequited devotion.

He bit her throat, a bite that strained in his jaw to not be one that killed. His mind whirled. Do it! Some rage-fueled bit of his heart snarled. Make her feel what you've always felt since then.

There was the click of handgun. "McGee, put your hands up and take three steps back."

Timothy froze.

Abby dared to whimper, "Tony."

"McGee, you have five seconds." One could not detect it if they did not know Tony, but Abby heard it- the barest tremor in his voice. The tremor of conflicting emotions. A SWAT team member padded forward into the room with a long gun held up in his hands, trained on Timothy. As his long, spotted tail swayed slowly back and forth behind him, a voice murmured from behind the helmet, "On your cue, Agent Dinozzo."

Despite it all, when Abby saw the weapon, she whispered, "No."

Timothy still did not move.

"McGee," Tony growled, but a whine pealed behind it, and he fought against the most inconvenient prickling in his eyes of tears at the knowledge that he would have to take his dear friend's life to protect another. Please just surrender, Tim, Tony pleaded from within. Please, please, please.

A heartbeat passed, and Timothy let go and turned away, stepping towards his captors.

Tony's defense mechanisms and police training kicked in, and he barked, "Now!"

The SWAT leopard fired and a tranquilizer that thudded into Timothy's neck. Timothy went to his knees, snarling in fury, but in seconds keeled over into a motionless, deadened sleep.


I know, slightly abrupt, but sometimes that's the effect you're going for. Oh, what fun it is to wreak such havoc! R&R please, if you will, my dears.