"What the hell do you mean it's going to take a day?" Gibbs growled, but his volume was anything but low.
Abby, to her credit, didn't flinch, and Tony would have grinned at her if he wasn't just as upset at the delay.
"I told you, Gibbs," she said through clenched teeth. Her patience was wearing thin, and she had a lot of work to do. "You'll get a result on the hair, but not until tomorrow. The case involving national security trumps yours. I'm under strict orders from the director to finish processing that evidence before I can get to yours."
"He's killing Marines, Abby," Gibbs yelled.
"And you shouting at Abby isn't going to help, Gibbs," DiNozzo said from where he leaned against the shiny steel table. His posture was a study in casualness, but his tone was firm. "Let her get back to work and you'll get results a hell of a lot faster."
Gibbs turned slowly, his eyes blazing, to face his senior agent. Tony didn't even blink.
"And if he kills someone else tonight?" Gibbs asked, his voice low, the rage in it unmistakable. He had stepped closer to DiNozzo, who saw Ziva tense beside him.
DiNozzo returned the icy glare with a level look even as he felt his boss's hot breath on his face. "We issue a warning to the base, just as we have every night this week. And we hope those Marines have enough sense to follow it."
No one in the room missed Gibbs' hands balling into fists at his sides. No one breathed as the Marine glared at his stone-faced agent. Abby's lip trembled, and Ziva readied herself to intervene in case Gibbs actually hit him.
"I want this guy as bad as you do, Boss," DiNozzo said, his voice not showing even a hint of the thousand emotions roiling inside him. "And in 24 hours, we'll have him. It's the best we can do."
Gibbs just glared. Finally, his hands uncurled and he took a step back. "Go home, DiNozzo."
Tony finally blinked. "What? No, I —"
Gibbs blew out a breath. "Woodson can't pull protection detail tonight. Someone has to relieve McGee, and I'm appointing you. Go home."
DiNozzo just nodded, wondering if he was being punished for standing up to the boss or if Gibbs was sending him away for other reasons. Like so he doesn't clock you?
Abby watched her friend walk out of her lab, wanting to thank him but smart enough not to. She made a mental note to talk to him later as she buried herself back in her work.
***
Tony walked to his car, wondering how he was going to make himself sleep this early in the afternoon—and with the myriad thoughts swirling through his head. I should have just refused, told Gibbs to stick it. Oh, no, wait. I did tell Gibbs to stick it… kind of. He shook the thoughts from his head, sliding the key into the door lock.
"Hey."
He stopped and looked up. "I forget something?"
Ziva shook her head. "No. I just wanted you to know… It was nice what you did for Abby."
Tony shrugged. "Abby can handle Gibbs. Better than any of us, really."
"Then why did you step in?" Ziva asked, walking toward Tony and running her hand along the smooth metal of his car.
"Just because she can handle him doesn't mean she should have to. We all know she'll be up all night, and all the Caf-Pow in the world won't erase the circles under her eyes."
Ziva looked up from the car to his face, and he realized she bore the same marks of tiredness. "How are you doing, Ziva?" he asked gently, dropping his bag beside the car.
She didn't answer. He moved closer and flinched when she raised her hands defensively. "I am fine," she said, seeing the concern in his eyes.
"Really, Ziva?" he asked, his tone still soft, his hand itching to touch her. "A case with strong women being raped, beaten and murdered doesn't affect you? You may be able to fool others with your heart-of-stone routine, but I know this one's hard on you. I know you."
He saw something dark flash through her pretty brown eyes. "Really, Tony? And what about you? Baiting Gibbs like that and then just standing there, waiting for him to hit you?"
"He didn't hit me."
"But you did not know that he wouldn't," she returned.
"Didn't I?"
She looked at him hard, then sighed. She smiled slightly. "You are very good, you know? If I did not know you, I would never have known what you must have been thinking then. You are a good person, Tony, to stand up for your friend like that."
He didn't smile, just watched her with concern. "It's going to be okay, Ziva. We're going to get this bastard."
"I know," she said softly but with conviction. She smiled and touched his elbow. "Go get some sleep. It is going to be a long night."
***
DiNozzo approached the safe house, still thinking about Ziva. He was hoping she would keep it together when they finally made an arrest. His thoughts turned to McGee and he saw those misaligned buttons flash in front of his eyes as he opened the door. That disconcerting image did not prepare him for what he saw, though, happening live in front of him.
Tony stopped, stood stock-still. He was shocked.
"McGee?" The name was a question, the tone disbelieving.
"Shit!" McGee swore, pocketing the tiny packet of pills that DiNozzo recognized as Ecstasy.
Tony watched McGee stand and turn to face him. He sometimes forgot that the Probie was about the same height as him.
"What the hell are you doing, Probie?"
McGee laughed in his face. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were my dad."
"I'm your partner, McGee," Tony said, disappointment and anger coloring his tone. "You're a federal agent. A drug-tested federal agent. What the fuck are you thinking?"
McGee's eyes slid to Morgan, who got up silently and retreated to a back bedroom.
"Well, yeah, Probie," Tony said, following McGee's eyes. "I kind of figured that."
"What's that supposed to mean?" McGee asked, stepping closer to his partner. "You think I'm sleeping with her?"
"I know you are," Tony returned, meeting McGee's blazing eyes, "but that's not the point." He paused, then shook his head. "You know what? Never mind. I'm going to go. Tell Gibbs whatever you want. Tell him I'm sick and you offered to stay. Do whatever you want, Probie."
Tony turned to leave, leaving McGee struggling with what to make of his partner's weary tone. Had McGee been thinking clearly, he would have just let DiNozzo leave. Instead, he said, "I don't get it, Tony. You nail everything that moves, but you can't get that I like her? What, she too smart for you? Too strong?"
Tony stilled, still half-facing the door. He didn't speak, didn't turn.
"I thought you like smart women? I mean, you sure fell for Jeanne."
Tony turned, his face completely unreadable. "I know what you're doing. But I'm not going to lash out at you. Even if it would ease some of your guilt."
"And just what should I be feeling guilty about?" McGee asked, practically shouting.
"Nothing, McGee. I'm leaving."
Tony turned back to the door, stopping only when he felt McGee's hand clamp around his elbow. Tony turned—slowly, deliberately, his eyes burning.
"Take your hand off me," he said, deadly calm, deadly quiet.
"And if I say no?" McGee challenged.
Tony surprised him by sighing wearily. He lifted his hands slowly, palms outward. "You wanna hit me, Tim? Hit me."
McGee hesitated, his hand dropping from Tony's arm.
"Where's all that anger now, Probie? Or did the X just kick in and mellow you out?"
McGee's fist came up so fast that Tony didn't have time to duck. His knuckles caught his partner just under his left eye, splitting the skin over his cheekbone. By the time Tony tasted the blood running down his face, he had McGee flat on his back, pinned to the shabby carpet, with his knees on either side of his chest and a wrist in each hand.
"Stop, Tim. Stop struggling," Tony said as his partner writhed beneath him. McGee was snarling, screaming at him to get off. "Not until you calm down."
"Get the fuck off me, DiNozzo," McGee screamed, his face red with the effort of trying to throw the senior agent off. "I swear to God, Tony, if you don't get off me—"
"You'll do what, Probie?" DiNozzo asked, losing patience. He licked at the blood on his face so it wouldn't drip onto McGee's. McGee struggled harder and DiNozzo's knee was aching from his kneeling position, but he ignored it and kept McGee pinned firmly. "Stop. McGee, stop. Quit struggling. Calm down."
A drop of blood slipped from DiNozzo's face and landed on McGee's cheek. The struggling instantly stopped. DiNozzo got to his feet, suppressing a groan at the twinge in his knee. He still held McGee's wrists and pulled the younger agent to his feet. McGee wiped the blood from his face, shoved his handkerchief into Tony's hands and turned away.
McGee saw Morgan standing in the shadows of the hallway. She met his eyes for a quick moment, then turned and walked back to the bedroom.
Tony watched her go. He didn't miss the fleeting look of despair that flitted across McGee's face. He pressed the handkerchief to his bleeding cheek and said, "Listen, Prob… Tim. I know you're upset. Things are pretty intense right now, but I want you to take a minute and think about what's important."
McGee was silent, but he had turned slightly while Tony spoke. He flinched when his partner wadded up the bloody square and stuck it in his pocket. Fresh blood beaded along the split skin, and Tim could see the swelling that had already begun to puff up around his eye.
"I'll, uh, wash this and give it back," Tony said, breaking into McGee's guilty thoughts. The senior agent was silent, watching the parade of emotions crossing his partner's open-as-a-book face.
McGee watched Tony watching him and was suddenly struck by a thought that made him even queasier than the line of bright red blood he couldn't take his eyes off. I hurt him, McGee thought, thinking over what he knew about Tony's childhood. I'm no better than the monster that beat the crap out of him back then.
"You okay, Tim?" DiNozzo asked when the silence that stretched seemed unlikely to resolve itself. "Tell me what you need. I'll stay. Or I can go, if that's what you want."
McGee laughed, then clamped a guilty hand over his mouth. Leave it to DiNozzo to stand there bleeding and ask me if I'm okay. To ask what I need. He cursed the stupid decision he'd made to take the drug Morgan offered. The weight of that decision—and the possible ramifications—hit him with a suddenness that made his knees go weak.
"Easy, Tim. It's okay," Tony was saying, guiding him toward the couch before his knees gave out completely.
"Oh, shit, Tony," was all McGee could manage as he stared wide-eyed at the blood on his partner's face. "Oh, shit."
The corner of Tony's mouth quirked up despite McGee's obvious distress. "It'll be fine, Probie. We were just tested. It'll be out of your system by the time they test us again."
Tony watched that sink in. His tone wasn't gentle when he said, "You got lucky. This time."
If asked later, McGee would blame his next actions on the drugs. He huffed out a breath and shoved away Tony's hand that had been resting reassuringly on his knee. "Yeah, I get it, DiNozzo. I messed up. I don't need you to tell me that."
McGee stalked off toward the back bedrooms, and DiNozzo sighed. He had really thought he was getting somewhere tonight. He simply got up and went for the door, exhausted from the sleepless night and long day that followed. Then he remembered the note from the killer: "She's mine." He couldn't leave Kessler there with an impaired agent. He pulled his cell and called Agent Woodson, giving her an excuse and intimating at a promise to get a drink sometime to make it up to her.
"Can you teach me that?"
DiNozzo almost jumped at the soft voice behind him. He turned to face Morgan. "Teach you what?"
"How to erase the emotion from your eyes, your face. You were pissed off—I mean furious—a minute ago, and now you're just … blank."
"I'm pissed at him. You're not the target of my anger, and I'm not going to take it out on you."
"Why aren't you mad at me? My drugs, my suggestion. I know it isn't exactly PC to ream a rape victim, but really, what do I have to do piss you off?"
He looked at her, trying to look past the bruises and the wildness in her eyes. He decided to be honest with her. "You already have. But I'm not your father, not your CO. I'm not going to scream at you. Or lecture you. It's not my place."
She was silent, waiting for him to finish. So he did. "But McGee is my partner. He's my friend. And he's also head-over-heels for you. I'd appreciate it if you would consider that before offering him any more 'suggestions.' "
She looked down at that, took a deep breath and winced at the pain. She met his eyes and said, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"Don't tell me," Tony said, suddenly hearing his boss's voice. "Tell him."