NCIS Breaking News: In a tragic story of obsessive hobbying turned deadly, an NCIS Agent was discovered in his basement crushed between a large, homemade boat and an even larger bottle of bourbon. Film at eleven! No, but really, new season of NCIS begins September 12, 2010! Set your DVR, VCR, DVD player, or video camera!
NCIS
Tony hobbled into Alfonso's, trying to find Palmer and his girlfriend in the incredibly busy, incredibly formal restaurant. He had changed into one of his nicer Italian suits especially for the occasion, and had tried to make the damage to his face as minimal as possible. Abby had lent him some cover-up stuff, and he'd used a little of it on the bruise on his cheekbone, but it smelled funny, kinda like…well, Abby's lab, so he hadn't used much of it, so as to not frighten off potential girlfriends. Tony actually wasn't going to wear the knee brace, but it was almost impossible to walk without it, so it was grudgingly worn, well-concealed under his suit.
He spied Palmer and Meena sitting at a secluded table in the corner, and finagled his way through the crowd.
A smile lit up Palmer's face when he saw Tony approaching.
"Hey, Tony!" he called loudly, earning evil glares from many other restaurant patrons, who were enjoying their meals quietly.
"Sorry!" Palmer apologized, just as loudly. Meena elbowed him sharply and gave him another glare.
Tony held his breath as he gently lowered himself into his chair, exhaling loudly when he finally succeeded without hurting himself further. He looked up, a satisfied grin on his face. Meena reached over and stroked the fading bruise on his cheek, a horrified look on her face. He watched her inspect the rest of his face, and noted how she was not happy with the injuries she found.
"I'm fine Meena," he told her, in response to her unspoken question, "Really. It's just superficial. I'll be back to myself in no time at all."
The waitress approached immediately, effectively cutting off any further conversation, and waited table-side while they decided on entrees.
When she finally left, Palmer cleared his throat and began. "Well, Tony…I don't know how to put this…you've done so much for us..." he paused, collecting his thoughts before starting again, "Words can't begin to describe how much we really appreciate….When I first came to you for help…" he put his head in his hands. "How is it I can keep up with Doctor Mallard and his trivial pieces of information, but I can't put together a coherent sentence expressing my thanks?"
"What James is trying to say is that we owe you our lives," Meena asserted honestly. "We were caught in a mess with no foreseeable way out, but James trusted you and you came through for us. There is nothing in the world we can do to repay that debt."
"So, what you're telling me is: I have saved your lives, and you are eternally grateful?" Tony grinned, his smile falling when neither Palmer nor Meena seemed to get it. "It's from Toy Story, guys! Again, you can thank my cousin's daughter for that, 'cause otherwise I'd never have seen it," he explained, shaking his head. "You need to get out more. Both of you," he added to their continually blank faces.
"You may always be the jokester, Tony, but I knew I could count on you to get me out of this mess. And you did. Like Meena said, we will always be grateful. If there is ever anything you need, you just let us know. We'll do the very best we can to—" Palmer finally managed to express his thanks, but there was still a very uncomfortable look on his face. Tony thought he'd better end the Autopsy Gremlin's torture.
"Palmer, you don't have to keep thanking me. What you've said was beautifully put and very thoughtful. You don't have to keep repeating it differently. Technically, we're even, since you always listened to my ideas while I was Boss and you bought me all those coffees—"
"Not just any coffees: Jamacian Mochas. Very expensive," Palmer interrupted, a grin coming to his face.
"Yes, Palmer, Jamacian Mochas. But you were always there for me, even when Rule 38 went into effect." Now Tony paused, looking very uncomfortable.
"I don't know what Rule 38 is," Meena ventured, "but I can see you two macho men have issues talking about your feelings, so I'm gonna sum up this conversation. Tony, thanks for all you did for us. We really can't ever repay you. Palmer, Tony appears to think you're even, just keep buying him his coffee and life's good," she stated bluntly, causing both Tony and Palmer to grin widely.
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Tony informed Meena, as Palmer bent over to kiss Meena. "All right. All right. There are kids here," Tony interrupted after a while.
"So," Meena began, "Since we're avoiding awkward conversations, why don't we stick to the easy stuff. Tell us how the case ended. We're a little foggy on the details."
"Milton Berle was a computer genius, who was building something called an octa-core processor. Don't ask me, but it's supposed to 'revolutionize the computer as we know it' in Geek-speak. Anyway, he partnered with Kellan Darst, who saw the beauty behind Berle's design and had him killed so Darst could have full control over the profits. Joe Kemps was an exchange student who stayed with the Berles during his time in America and they remained close friends. Berle had told Kemps about his design and Kemps became suspicious about the circumstances of Berle's death. That's when he kidnapped Meena so you could get him the case file. But Palmer grabbed the wrong file," Tony explained, narrowing his eyes at Palmer.
"Tony, that wasn't my fault—" Palmer tried to defend himself.
"I know, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Anyway, you got yourself kidnapped, and I had to ask Trent Kort for the file. By the way, you owe me big time for that Palmer. Kemps stole the file from me to avoid NCIS involvement while he sought revenge. He put the pieces together and contacted Darst, asking for a meeting. Darst, well-versed in the life of his colleague, knew something was up, and send a hit man to kill Kemps' henchmen to tie up the loose ends. Don't worry, three of the thugs survived," Tony added, seeing Palmer and Meena's shocked faces. "Ideally—to Darst I mean—the situation would have ended tonight with Kemps' death, but we caught up to Kemps and Darst and arrested them both, after a fair bit of brawling on my part.
"Kemps told the whole story, even revealing the safe house where he kept the CIA file. Fornell was more than happy to have that one back, let me tell you. He didn't even let us see what was in it. I suspect there was more to this Milton Berle than meets the eye…But that's not important. Darst refused to talk, but his thug Jacob revealed the whole plot in exchange for a shorter sentence. Darst paid him and Rhamsey to kill the Kemps' amigos, and how Jacob was paid extra to kill Rhamsey. I think Darst was going to kill both Jacob and Kemps and stage it to look like Jacob shot Kemps, or vice versa, I'm not really sure. So, in summation, Gregor killed Ciao Bella, Ciao Bella killed Gregor…" Tony trailed off, seeing their blank faces. "God, Palmer, even Gibbs isn't this bad. Well, maybe you're slightly better than Gibbs, but not by much," he condeeded. "You need to turn on a TV during your autopsies or something. You get HBO, SHOtime or USA down there?"
"How much time is Kemps going to get?" Meena inquired, bringing Tony back on track.
"5-10, probably be out in three for good behavior. It depends on the deal he can cut with the jury. He did steal a file, assault a Federal Officer and kidnap the two of you. But, in that, he brought to light a real killer…"
"Darst?"
"Well, he's probably going away for life. He may not have spoken but his records did: financial, phone and e-mail. They can charge him for paying a suspected bomb maker, who coincidentally was in Iraq the same week Berle was killed, and his phone and e-mail tell the rest of the tale. Terrorism's going for a lot these days. That's on top of ordering the deaths of Kemps' five thugs and Berle himself."
"As much as I dislike Kemps, I can understand why he did it," Meena spoke up, surprising both Tony and Palmer. "C'mon Tony. You know what I mean. How far would you go if you though someone murdered Gibbs? Or McGee? Or Ziva?"
"Well, if someone managed to murder Ziva, there's no way I'm going after them. That person would have to have some mad skills…They'd probably kill me just by looking at me," Tony clarified. "And if they took Ziva down, she'd probably have killed them in the process. So, there's really nothing for me to do."
Meena raised her eyebrows slightly, causing Tony to reconsider what he's just said. "Yeah, I know what you mean, Meena. I'd search everywhere for her killer, not stopping until he was brought to justice," he affirmed honestly. Meena sat back, a satisfied look on her face. "Even if it meant searching every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in the world," Tony finished with a smile.
Meena picked up her napkin and hurled it at him. "You're hopeless," she cried. "How do you put up with this?" she asked Palmer.
Just then, the waiter brought their food and silence ensued while they ate. Palmer grabbed the check, oblivious to Tony's protests that he should at least pay for his portion.
Palmer and Meena motioned to grab a cab once they got outside the restaurant. Tony offered to drive them home, but was politely declined, since Palmer and Meena live in the opposite direction of Tony's apartment.
While they waited for the cab, Meena turned around and kissed Tony gently on the cheek. "Well, thanks for everything, you know, saving my life and stuff…" Meena observed Tony's surprised/amused expression at her Tremors' reference, "What? I watch movies too."
"Wow, Palmer. If you weren't already dating her…" Tony stated suggestively.
Palmer socked Tony in the arm. "Well, she's taken."
"Ya, I can see that. What I meant to say Palmer, is you've caught yourself a special one: she's smart, funny, gorgeous, and she can quote from movies verbatim. Is there anything she can't do?"
"I can't cook," Meena declared as the cab pulled up.
"Thanks again Tony for all you did for us," Palmer shook Tony's hand gratefully before helping Meena into the cab.
"If you ever need anything, you have my number," Meena told Tony, "but it has to be strictly platonic," she clarified as if reading Tony's mind. "And if it's in the middle of the night, call James instead of me. I have to be up at the crack of dawn for the family mortuary business."
With that, the cab drove away. Tony walked away grinning, the clichéd spring in his step. He even indulged himself with whistling before people started glaring at him, causing him to stop, which was probably a good thing since the 'spring in his step' was only causing his knee to hurt. As he headed to the car, he debated options for the long weekend. He had movies due back to Blockbuster, so he might as well rent some new ones. Sleep, lots of sleep, he thought, unable to contain a yawn. Maybe tomorrow he'd hit some of the local clubs and try to meet his future wife. Or he could go over to McGeek's house and pester the hell out of him. Or finally go skydiving, for real, in tandem, and with an instructor. Or he'd meet up with some of his frat buddies and play some basketball. All solid ideas.
But tonight, he had Avatar to see before it was due back, and some serious shut-eye to catch.
During the ride home, Tony consider his last few days: he'd saved two people, caught a previously unknown killer while simultaneously neutralizing a threat to society, got his ass kicked numerous times (which he wasn't going to dwell on), caught an additional killer from the previous case he'd been working on, managed to empirically tie a suspected bomb maker to a crime, and had loyally and unselfishly helped a friend. All in all, not a bad week.
NCIS
And so, that is the end of Things Are Seldom What They Seem. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, especially those people who took the time to review multiple times! Please take a moment and let me know what you thought of the story: good or bad, happy or sad (emphasis on good or happy, please).
I am thinking of picking up the proverbial pen again for another story that's been bouncing around in my brain: something along the lines of Abby and Tony caught in a hostage situation. As per usual, no slash, no ships (no TABBY). Let me know what you think of that.
This is usa123 signing off. It's been a joy writing this story.
Adios!
Usa123
Post-Scriptum: You get extra bonus points if you can tell me where the line "Gregor killed Ciao-Bella…" is from. Leave me a review or PM if you get it.