Chapter Ten: Us in the Time Between

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"Acting Team Leader," Tony corrects Director Shepard, a slight hint of reprobation in his tone. She straightens and stares at him with an odd expression, her mouth grim. "Until Gibbs is back, I'm just… Acting Team Leader."

"Agent DiNozzo, you do understand that after six weeks MIA the chances of Agent Gibbs being recovered are slim?" Her voice is kind, and he wishes she'd be crueller about it. The neckline of her blouse is low enough that, when she stands, his eyes automatically find the thick ring of scarring around her slim neck, still red and raw from her own mistreatment at the slaver's hands. She'll carry the stripes of silver for the rest of her life. He stares until she clears her throat politely, calling his attention back to her face.

"You're giving up on him." The words hurt him to say, but he hopes they hurt her more to hear.

She lifts a hand to run it gently along the welts, as though still unused to their existence. "On the contrary, I have every faith in Jethro's ability to survive and persevere in even the darkest of situations. But he cannot be our priority when we have more urgent cases that haven't gone cold. When we have others in just as much danger. He wouldn't want us to focus on him at the expense of others."

When he speaks again, past the lump that fills his throat, his voice is childish as though he is being deprived a sweet instead of the chance to find the man he respects and loves. "He saved your life."

Her eyes close for a moment, blank expression shifting to show the pain she's hiding. "It's not the first time," she says, and walks away from him. He follows her to the door as she holds it open, a clear dismissal. "And it won't be the last, Agent DiNozzo."

He can't say anything else. Just, "Director,' as he steps from the room and waits for what's coming.

The door clicking shut behind him is like the end of an era.

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The last time Abby saw Gibbs walking through her lab door, it was two months ago and she hadn't even realised at the time how lucky she was to have him. How time changes things, huh?

That's why on a Tuesday during her lunch break, she's sitting at a café waiting for her freaky ex to show up. Freaky being an adjective used to describe most of her exes, but being particularly appropriate for…

"Mikal. Hi."

He slides into the seat opposite, grinning widely at her with large, black-rimmed eyes. The kid wears more makeup than she does, still. Even now. Abby studies him and groans inwardly as she realises something.

It's still really fricken' hot.

"Abby, you called me back, finally," he gushes, smile widening even more as he reaches across to take her hand. She pulls it away and returns his affections with a weak grin she doesn't feel. "I knew you would."

Do it for Gibbs, Abigail, she tells herself twice before managing to work up the guts to speak again. There's some kinda natural, primal 'do not touch' instinct going off in her brain trying to warn her away from him, but she's never been a 'listen to your instincts' kind of girl. That's what she has Gibbs for.

Had.

"Actually, I had a question," she asks, leaning in and meeting Mikal's eyes intently. The stink of camphor and bleach is strong on his clothes as he sidles closer, a faint hint of rust under it. "Remember when we dated, briefly?"

"How could I forget?"

Oh god, she'd forgotten how intensely needy he is.

Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs.

"You remember the magic you wanted to show me? I was wrong… I want to see it."

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Their newest probie perches between Tony and McGee in the truck and can't seem to decide who she's more intimidated by. Tony wants to smile at her and tell her not to worry about them, it's the woman in the back quietly doing a Sudoku that's the danger, but, somehow, he doesn't think 'Probationary Agent Michelle Lee' will really believe him. Gibbs would have hated her. She's everything the agency wants in their agents, and everything Tony and Gibbs consistently fail to be.

"Lee, go check the stream for evidence," Tony barks, watching her jump a foot and scuttle away. "Can you believe they gave us a human, McGee?"

After all, look what happened to the last one they'd been trusted with.

"I cannot believe they let you have a trainee at all, Tony," Ziva pipes up, wandering past and shooting him a mocking look. "You will ruin her."

"She's already ruined," Tony mutters, not meeting Ziva's eyes. "She's a lawyer." McGee doesn't answer, just follows Ziva with a distant look on his face, as though his mind is miles away. "Something ticking in that giant brain of yours, McDistractable?"

"Hmm?" McGee turns to him and blinks stupidly, pale and worn looking. "Sorry, Tony. I wasn't listening." Tony shakes his head, dismissing him and watching carefully as he walks away. It's probably nothing, they're all working harder without… well, with Lee as their probie.

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Tony's covered her lab in whiteboards with markers of every colour and is standing by the door handing out 'hi my name is [blank!]' to them as they walk in.

"Tony, we know who everyone is," Tim grumbles as Tony sticks one on his forehead with a flick of his wrist. He pulls it off, scratching at the sticky residue left behind. "Why are you doing this to us again?"

"It's motivational. It promotes team spirit and a sense of comradeship." Tony peels another sticker and goes to stick it on Ziva, rethinking his intention when she turns and affixes him with her best unblinking stare.

Jimmy swings his legs from his perch on the worktable, eyeing the newly roped off corner of her lab uneasily. "Abby, why is your lab all… wet?"

To dispel the sense of doom that Tony's 'Comradeship Seminars' always seemed to produce, she smiles brightly. "For Bert. He dries out easily."

"You charmed a corner of your lab into a swamp for a tiny hippo?" Jimmy blinks a few times, clearly uncomfortable. The paranoia is, for once, probably well-deserved. Even in miniature, the hippo outweighs him. Abby makes a mental note to Bert-proof Jimmy if he decides to leave his safe perch at any point.

"Where else was I going to put him now we're working extra hours?" she chirps, trying to lift the gloomy tone of the room. Tony flinches as though it's a deliberate dig at his leadership skills. She'll have to make it up to him later. Eyes still locked on the still, murky water, Jimmy giggles a little hysterically.

"Physical trust exercises today!" Tony exclaims with his arms held wide, all the better to display his cheerful 'hi my name is SUPREME LEADER!' sticker on the centre of his chest.

"I'm going to be sick," Tim announces. Without a pause between the announcement and the act, he dashes out.

"I'll help him, err… not be sick," Jimmy says, eyes flickering between the retreating golem and Tony's maniacal grin, and choosing the less disturbing path with a frantic clatter of wings. Ziva stands up and leaves without offering an excuse, leaving Abby and a deflated-looking Tony standing in the lab. Abby absently rubs letters off of 'COOPERATE AND COMMUNICATE' written in sunset orange on the closest whiteboard, leaving 'CO P ATE OMUN TE' emblazoned cheerily across it.

"I'm up for physical trust exercises, Tony," she offers. "I do them all the time with the nuns I bowl with, I'm an old hat."

"They hate me," Tony says gloomily, kicking a dropped sticker into Bert's pool. The water under it bubbles as the hippo surfaces, sniffing at it and retreating back under with an irritated huff. Abby watches it sink in the silence that follows. She could explain to him just what exactly it means to 'try too hard', but he looks so woebegone that she just doesn't have the heart. "Something's wrong with Timmy," she says instead, wiping the rest of the vowels off the board and scrubbing her hand on her pants to try and get the orange smears off. "I didn't even know golems could get sick, and he's looked yuck for weeks now. Like his skin is all doughy."

Tony shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair, looking older than she's ever seen him. "He's tired, Abs, we all are. Things are harder now." She thinks of the spells Mikal's given her and the packages hidden in her home that she's had to go through three different suppliers to buy with fake IDs for each of them, wondering if he realises just how accurate that statement is.

They're not much of a team these days, and it's changing everything.

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Tim opens the door of his apartment and Tony is sprawled on his couch, legs wide open and head lolled back to watch him enter.

He's not smiling.

"I thought you had to be invited in," Tim says snidely, dropping his bag and scanning the room to see what Tony's touched. His heart sinks when he sees the door to his study standing open. Tony doesn't answer, just stands and walks in there, Tim trailing helplessly after him. "It's not what you think…"

"What I think?" Tony says with dangerous calm. "Because what I think is that you've got enough computer power setup here to run the Matrix, except you're playing the role of the entire human race. Being a battery doesn't suit you, Tim. You're looking cracked."

Around them, the computers hum softly, banks of monitors blinking in and out as the pre-programmed searches cross-reference each other continuously. "I can handle it," Tim lies.

Tony hums non-committedly. "Which is why you were sick today, and why you've been walking around like you're half asleep for near on a month now. You think you can find Gibbs like this?"

Tim reaches for the thread of his power, always within reach these days. The rush of information from the complex network as he touches it almost overwhelms him. Tony doesn't say anything, just waits for him to get a handle on himself before answering. "I think it's better than doing nothing and hoping for a miracle. We all have to do our parts."

Tony looks away and there's a flicker of anger on his face that Tim worries is aimed at their other teammate. "All except one," he murmurs, and Tim wouldn't have heard the quiet words except Tony is standing near the microphone of his computers, where Tim is quietly funnelling himself through to check that his programs are still working.

"It's not her fault," he says, losing track of his search and having to start again, knowing he's standing there oddly still with his magic glittering over him.

Tony turns on his heel and walks out, calling back over his shoulder. "Halve the load, McGeek. We need you more than the computers do."

Tim listens and lessens it, just... not by half.

He can handle it.

He has to.

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Tony is cold towards her. She understands. He lashes out because otherwise the guilt of losing Gibbs will drown him, leaving him unable to function. She left Gibbs in that squalid room, she deserves every bit of his hatred.

It is nothing she does not feel for herself.

"Come out tonight?" Abby asks her, stopping in front of her desk. Ziva looks up, blinking in surprise at the heavy coat the forensics witch wears despite the positively balmy weather outside. "You can't hide away from Tony forever, he's not really mad at you."

He is, but she cannot expect Abby to understand.

"No, I have plans," she says instead, turning back to her report. "Ask Agent Lee. I am sure she will delight in accompanying you."

Abby pulls a face and departs alone, leaving behind the faintest trace of suppressed magic on the air. Ziva sniffs, wrinkling her nose at the strangely acrid scent of it. The scent of her magic has never been quite so disagreeable before. With a terse smile, McGee leaves, looking only moderately better than his appearance over the past week. He is overstepping himself. But, then again, they all are. She waits until the office is empty before pushing her bag under the desk and leaving empty handed.

Dusk is touching the world outside and turning everything vague and unfocused as she takes to cheetah form and begins the steady pace that will allow her to weave up and down side-streets and alleys, searching for a familiar scent as she goes. It has taken her weeks to cover as much ground as she has, without a sniff of anything that could lead her to him, but she is optimistic.

She will find him. And, this time, she will bring him home.

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Jimmy walks into autopsy and Ducky is shouting at Abby. It's mad, senseless, incongruous. Ducky? Their Ducky, shouting at Abby? Jimmy stops and stares, feeling as though he's somehow stumbled into an episode of The Twilight Zone as his two co-workers turn dark expressions towards him.

"Mr. Palmer, if you could give us a moment please," Ducky begins, his voice shaking with anger and something that is absurdly close to fear.

"Don't bother, Jim, I'm just leaving," Abby snaps, striding past them both. Jimmy is stunned to see the glint of tears on her cheeks. Ducky made her cry?

"Abigail!" Ducky calls, and now his voice is desperate. "You could lose everything."

She whirls, and Jimmy has to duck to avoid her skirt hitting him in the face. "We've already lost everything!" she shrieks, and the light flickers ominously.

"I won't have any part of it," Ducky says finally, turning away. Abby sniffs and walks out, head down and tilted away. He waits a beat before dashing after her, recognising the signs of a foul mood descending on Ducky as the air in autopsy thickens and takes on a strong salty tang on his tongue.

"Abby!" he calls. She stops but doesn't look at him. "You've got a plan? To find Gibbs?"

A slight nod is his only response.

It's not easy—it's never been easy for Jimmy to be brave not ever, not when he's barely a foot tall and clumsy—but he manages to say it even though he thinks he might faint at the thought.

"I want to help."