"Did you know there are 64 tiles in the ceiling?" Jimmy Palmer asked conversationally.
Everyone, even Ducky, gave him a deadpan stare.
Palmer "meeped" and ducked his head, trying to disappear within himself.
DiNozzo snorted in disgust and resumed glaring at the floor. Beneath his crossed arms, he was clenching and unclenching his fists.
Gibbs was pacing back and forth like an angry lion in a cage.
Bishop was glancing between both men, concern shining in her eyes.
Ducky muttered something about getting coffee and slowly lumbered to his feet as he desperately needed something to do.
Vance was still at NCIS, trying to oversee the arson investigation.
Today had been the longest day for everyone involved.
Now they are at Bethesda, trying not to worry as the doctors examined Abby. Ruby, Fornell and Sacks were still at NCIS.
They were trying to see if any evidence could be salvaged.
Normally Gibbs was hard to read. However, it was more than obvious he was blaming himself for not getting Abby away in time.
Like he did during the Harper Dearing incident.
Not surprisingly, it got more personal.
First, the sick fuck kidnaps Tim and tortures him for his own sick amusement. Then he bombs NCIS and Abby might be a casualty thanks to the guy's need for shits and giggles.
"Agent Gibbs?" Everyone whirled around. It was Brat Pitt.
"Yes?" Gibbs said.
Sarah took another sip of coffee.
She was so nervous, she was tapping her right foot.
Every so often, she would glance at the front door of Maven's Diner. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Penny.
Impatiently, she glanced at her watch.
It was nearly two thirty in the morning.
Where was Penny? She should have been here by now. Sarah was running on caffeine and adrenalin. Already, she was on her third cup.
But she was too wired to sleep.
She couldn't. Not when her brother was in danger.
She ran an impatient hand through her hair. People wouldn't think they were close. Sarah had always been braver, bolder and more of an Alpha than her brother.
Tim was quieter and meeker.
But Tim was tougher than he looked.
He took being her older brother very seriously. Tim was always there for her, like when she'd been framed for murder a few years ago.
It was Tim she turned to whenever she was in trouble.
Her parents were never easy to confide in.
Her father had the mentality that his children should be strong enough to solve their problems on their own. He preferred the sink or swim method.
Her mother was far more preoccupied with looking for excitement.
Tim and Sarah were never blind.
They knew Noelle couldn't cope with their father's long absences at sea. Being a naval wife wasn't in the cards for her.
And she wasn't exactly discreet when she started sleeping around.
Sarah grimaced.
Despite what people thought, she and her brother didn't enjoy an idyllic childhood. She could remember cowering in the closet, hugging her brother, as their parents' loud arguments filled the air.
Occasionally, there would be enraged screams.
Or the sounds of glass or pottery hitting the far wall as John and Noelle threw plates or glasses at each other.
"Image was everything", her father would say.
He refused to let anything ruin his precious reputation.
So Tim and Sarah became adept at pretending, acting like everything was fucking hunky dory as they concealed the truth about their less than ideal home lives. Eventually, it became habit.
As a result, everyone assumed, to this day, they had happy childhoods.
Feh, it couldn't be further from the truth, she thought bitterly.
Sarah was jolted from her thoughts when her cell phone rang. "Yes?" She asked, hoping it was Penny.
"Miss Sarah McGee?" An unfamiliar male voice asked.
"Yes." Sarah said cautiously.
"My name is Sergeant Dale Wilkins of the Metropolitan Police Department." Wilkins said. "I understand you're the granddaughter of Penelope Langston?"
"How do you know that, Officer?" Sarah asked.
"You're listed as her emergency contact." Wilkins explained.
"What happened?" Sarah demanded. "Is she okay?"
"I need you to come to George Washington University Hospital right away." Wilkins said. "I'm afraid your grandmother was in an accident with a drunk driver."
"Is she okay?" Sarah bit her lip.
"She's in critical condition, Miss McGee." Wilkins said. "She might not make it."
Sarah quickly hung up.
She tossed some money onto the table and ran out of the diner.
He sat in the first class section of a red eye plane en route to Washington DC.
Trust Noelle to fuck things up, he mused.
That stupid cunt couldn't lie to save her life. Which was why he was heading for DC right now.
He was going to make sure the past stayed buried.
And it has been a while since he visited his old friend, John McGee...