Tim had always been grateful that he didn't need glasses growing up as he was sure they would not only add another nail into his coffin of geekiness, but because he had an inkling that he wasn't one of those guys who could look attractive when bespectacled. Now as he looked into the bathroom mirror donning the dark-rimmed glasses, he was sure of it.
"I just don't think I have the facial structure for glasses, Abbs," he said with a frown.
"I think it's a really hot look for you, McGee. Makes you look distinguished and intelligent."
"Are you saying I don't always look intelligent?"
"Of course not! I just think that glasses enhance your…" Abby trailed off, trying to find the best word.
"My nerdiness?"
"Your McGeeness."
Tim wasn't sure if the term "McGeeness" was a positive or a negative, but he didn't ask Abby to elaborate. "What's going on down there?"
"In my lab or at headquarters?"
"Both."
"Nothing and nothing. At least, nothing as far as I know in regards to that second nothing. I haven't seen anyone since this morning."
Tim checked his watch. It was a bit after 9:00 and, though the first speaker for the convention wasn't scheduled until 11:00, he wanted to grab a quick breakfast and possibly explore the hotel a bit more. He was, after all, getting compensated for this weekend, so any stealthy sleuthing he could do would only be fair. "How much did you tell Tony about Myrna?"
"Just that she was totally flirting with you last night and that I could pretty much hear you salivating," Abby teased. "So was she cute?"
"Since when are you interested in girls that are hitting on me? You usually get all protective and jealous."
"I do not!" A loud slurp echoed in his ears, followed by the sound of a large Caf-Pow cup being dropped into the trash can. "You've just been seeing dumb bimbos lately and that's so not you. This girl sounds like she actually has half a brain, putting her far ahead of your past love interests. Present company excluded, of course," she added. "Now answer my question."
"She's cute, Abby," he told her with a definitive smile.
"Well, don't start drooling over her yet," Abby scolded. "She is kind of a suspect right now."
"Yeah, I'm not stupid, Abbs. I just met her, so I don't think we'll be getting intimate in the near future."
"But if she offered, you'd accept, right?" Tim could hear the grin in Abby's voice.
"I'm not DiNozzo."
"Nope, just male."
"I got the map back."
"What? How?"
"One of those NCIS guys was in the café this morning with the journal and it was tucked in there."
"Did anyone see you?"
"No, you idiot. Unlike you, I actually think before I act."
"I told you, killing him wasn't my fault. He just wasn't listening."
"Yes, but leaving the fucking murder weapon there and losing the map were both your fault."
"Yeah, so you've mentioned about a hundred times already. When are we going to do this?"
"I'm not so certain we are doing anything anymore."
There was a pause. "You can't push me out of this. I'll go to those cops and tell them everything."
"Tell them what? That you murdered Nathan? That's got nothing to do with me."
"Dammit, you cannot do this to me!"
"I can do whatever I want. If you really want in on this, you'd better fucking toughen up and prove it."
Click
Tony caught sight of Ziva passing by the hotel. He knocked on the window, catching her attention, and waved for her to come in. "Gibbs told me to go with you to show Robinson's picture around bars and restaurants."
"Really? He told me you were to stay here and look for the copy of the map that you let get lost," she told him with a smirk.
"I didn't let it get lost," Tony told her, glowering as he spoke. "I think it was stolen. Trust me, there is no way it could have simply fallen out of my pocket. Someone must have grabbed it."
"And you did not notice that you were being pick pocketed?"
"Well, I kind of turned my back for a moment. I mean, I left my jacket at the table in the café, but I only was, like, five feet away from it and it was only for a minute."
"One minute is all that some people need." Ziva jerked her head toward the door, silently suggesting that they continue interviewing workers at local establishments. "Did you search the people who were in the café with you?"
"Gee, no, David, I didn't even think about that," he said sarcastically. "Of course, I did. By the time I'd found out it was gone, though, two women who had been in there when I'd entered were gone."
"Did you get a good look at them?" Ziva asked. Before he could answer, she added, "Of course you did; they were, after all, women."
Tony scowled. "Yes, I did. One was a blonde, really skinny and about 5'9". She was wearing this really short black lace skirt with this low-cut green top. The other had black hair and was about 5'1" or so. She was wearing this brown skirt, I think tweed, with a cream colored sleeveless blouse. They were both about eight on a scale of hotness," he said with a lupine smile.
"Well, it's good that we know they were 'hot,'" Ziva said rolling her eyes. "I'll put a BOLO out on that right away."
They had just arrived at the next place – an Irish pub that was about a block down from the hotel – and Tony pulled the door open for Ziva. "Sarcasm doesn't become you."
Ziva furrowed her brow, not understanding his statement, but said nothing as she didn't want to get caught up in an English grammar session and derail their current assignment. "Excuse me," she called to a man seated at one of the tables. He was looking through receipts and adding up totals, so she assumed he was the manager.
"We don't open for another hour, ma'am."
She flipped open her ID. "Officer David and this is Agent DiNozzo. We are with NCIS investigating the murder of a Marine." She pulled the photo of Nathan out and held it out to the manager. "Have you seen this man here with anyone in the past two months?"
The man took it and looked it over. "I don't usually greet customers. I stay in the back," he explained. "But I've got a couple of our regular bartenders here and they may know something." He turned his head toward the bar, calling out, "Michael! Paulie!"
Two young men appeared in the doorway wearing white button-up shirts and khaki slacks. One had red hair while the other had brown hair, but both looked more or less the same age. "Yeah, Mr. Lawson?" the redhead asked.
Lawson gestured toward Ziva and Tony. "These two have some questions about some Marine."
"Have you seen this man here with anyone these past two months?" Ziva reiterated, this time holding the photo out to the two young men. They peered in, studying in the picture.
"Yeah, that guy comes in here a lot," the brunette confirmed. "Uh, usually gets a Guinness."
"Has he come here with anyone?" Tony asked.
"That ice queen," the redhead said, more to the brunette than to Tony and Ziva.
"Oh yeah!" the guy agreed. "Some girl has been meeting with him a couple of nights a week for about a month or so."
"Do you remember what she looked like?" Ziva asked.
"Uh, blonde, your height I guess. Really hot, but she was really frigid, too. They were talking about something one night and I stopped by the table to ask if they needed anything else and she just gave me this icy look, like I was intruding on them."
Ziva pulled another picture and showed it to the brunette. "Is this her?"
"That's her," he confirmed. "Always orders a cosmo."
"Thank you for your help," Ziva told them as she and Tony made their way to the door. As soon as they were outside, she pulled her cell phone out and hit speed dial for Gibbs' phone.
"Who is that?" Tony asked, grabbing at the picture.
"That's Julie Lambard, the events coordinator for Hotel Monaco."
Tony looked over the picture, his eyes widening. "Ziva, that's the blonde who was in the café this morning!"
