Aug 10
The things that make us safest from others make us least from ourselves.
Danah Boyd, apophenia, 01-08-07
Timothy McGee continued to search the room carefully, ignoring Tony's insults to his intelligence. The blood spatter on the walls was not where it should be, and however much Tony tried to argue that spatter was not an exact science and it could simply be because they thought Colonel Stevenson was fighting back, it still didn't match up.
Ziva was wisely staying out of the argument, while Gibbs was off somewhere flirting… interviewing the redheaded sister-in-law who had discovered the mortal remains. Which unfortunately gave Tony free reign to harass Tim.
"You're seeing things," Tony whined. "You're hallucinating."
Tim knew better than to reply. Giving Tony anything meant he would never shut up.
"You don't have as many years' experience as me in reading crime scenes," Tony continued. "I am telling you, spatter is inexact and confusing, especially for Probies. And even more so for Probies who think they know better than their Senior Field Agent."
There was a subtle mark along the wall, almost unnoticeable unless someone's nose was practically pressed to it…
"There's nothing here. You're wasting your time and mine. Go and rescue Gibbs from the clutches of that redhead downstairs –"
WHACK
"Thank you, Boss."
"Boss?" Tim started. "There's a panic room here, and it was open when the fight began."