AN: I have some thank-yous, but I'll keep them until I've explained (or at least tried) what I'm thanking for.

I got that very blunt review, informing me I was unrelentingly British, and that I needed what was to me a mildly insulting term derived from a definitely insulting term. It was like mowing a two acre lawn by hand and being told I'd not strimmed round the tree, since all the non-American writers I know, myself included, have continuously tried to write American for an American show, the necessity for that being understood.

People like the Chief, who's been a great help to me for a long time now, would assure you that's true, and that I don't have a problem with concrit that's politely given..

I had a rant, got over it, deleted it, left a note to remind myself and the pals I'd ranted to, and moved on.

Two chapters later I got what I thought was a review from the same person. If you segue the two it looks like someone claiming credit for my miraculous improvement because I'd done what they ordered me to! Perhaps I am arrogant – I can take criticism, but definitely not patronisation, so, (rule eight went out the window,) I assumed it was one person, thought 'enough is enough', and let rip. Charley Horse, completely innocent, got it in the neck.

I'm still totally horrified that I upset her, and that I came over as high handed. I'll certainly admit to being defensive and prickly by nature... although in my said defence, in three years of writing for the site it's the first time I've ever reacted publicly. However, it was a fearful lapse of sanity to open my electronic mouth at all, I've never seen it lead to anything good for anyone else.

So thank you, Charley Horse for accepting my apology.

Thank you, 'Please Explain' for your last message; I hope I have explained a little.

Thank you, dear bloodhound, for your help. As if you haven't got enough on your plate!

And this morning I got a speeding ticket...

Sideways and Forwards

Chapter 11

Twelve lids of evidence boxes, borrowed from the Bunnies with a boyish smile and a promise to bring them back before the end of the morning sat on a side table, their work already done; a micrometer and a notepad sat beside them. Four spotlights surrounded a table in the centre of the lab; The Box sat between them all, like the victim of some crude interrogation technique. Robbie prowled round it with a huge magnifying lens in one hand and a camera in the other. Peer, snap; peer, snap; for a long time that was all he did, then he leaned in closer. "A-ha!"

NCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs stopped, struck by a recollection. Last time he could remember hearing that tone of voice it had been a young marine sergeant, asking how to cope with the death of his wife. There were other times, he was sure, memories plucked and tugged at his mind, but didn't surface; it was something that happened frequently, ever since the explosion, and it was unbearably frustrating.

He concentrated on the here and now. He didn't think DiNozzo had ever said 'please' to him before; was he trying to manipulate him, or... no, not any more than that young Marine had been. The guy must have a reason for sounding like that; he'd figure it in the end. He'd known exactly how to push DiNozzo'sbuttons, the other day, hadn't he? How'd he known that? How much didn't he know about how many things? Facing a future like this – it was way more terrifying than going into battle. He turned slowly, and came back to the table. He lowered himself into his chair and took a large swig of the coffee the younger man had poured him.

"Yeah..." he said finally, pulling up a clear memory. "Ducky didn't want to be that specific. Thought it could have been a delivery truck, or anything where the fenders were set high. But what would a delivery van have been doing round there at that time of night? My gut, and the way he looked, said bull bar. What?" He paused, and stiffened again, seeing a pleased expression slowly dawn on Tony's face. "You knew."

"I talked to Ducky. I just wanted to find some way to show you the memories are there, and they are useful, and that's the first thing that's come up. He said you could be right, by the way, he just didn't want to discount anything else."

Bastard had manipulated him. It wasn't smug, and it wasn't confrontational, Gibbs had to give him that, it seemed to be to help him and he'd promised himself to play nicely, so he subsided again. Green eyes regarded him steadily, and his stomach lurched. He saw a mixture of concern and pain, and couldn't think why DiNozzo would look at him that way. He fended it off. "When d'ya find out Neville drove an Impala?"

"Yesterday. Spoke to him through MTAC." He looked at his former boss seriously. "Gibbs, I'll tell you what I've learned, but wait until you've told me what you know. I don't want to feed you memories that might not be accurate. The director gave me this case with orders to prove conclusively to everyone out there that you didn't have anything to do with the irregularities."

Gibbs nodded gravely; he couldn't relate this DiNozzo to anything he could remember, which was zilch anyway. His thoughts wandered away momentarily; he remembered Jenny – the making love bits at least; and while he was in Mexico he'd remembered things about Paris... mostly the making love bits again... sure couldn't remember when or how or why the woman who'd been his probie had been made Director.

Ziva... well, he wouldn't forget that – and it didn't bother him a bit that Haswari's blood still stained his basement floor. He owed her, he knew that. She'd reminded him by headslapping him, but that was something else that didn't fit. The headslaps didn't go with Ziva... He dragged his attention back to the present, to the man who was patiently sitting waiting. His next words astonished him.

"When I've done that, and no-one can argue about it, you get the case back if you want it, and complete it yourself."

"I do?"

"Sure. If you want. I more or less know what's what, just need a very few more pieces to the puzzle."

"And you think I've got them?" He couldn't help that derision creeping into his tone again, and he wondered why he took such a perverse pleasure in getting a rise out of the younger man; until he remembered how he'd realised DiNozzo was going forward while he went back. C'mon, how was that DiNozzo's fault?

This time the green eyes glared, and Gibbs was aware of more than the probie's mere presence in the room for the first time. She stiffened and looked towards her boss, and her body language shifted very subtly from efficient to calming. DiNozzo clearly caught the look, because he did calm, and simply said, "I thought we'd already settled that?"

Tony, for his part, appreciated that glance, and at the same time, mourned the days when he and Gibbs had had effortless, wordless conversations. Gibbs had been better at them than spoken ones. God, this was so hard... "So... you'd seen the injuries. What happened next?"

"Steve... Sam... Stan Burley... all those young Marines were running up the road towards us... Burley rounded them all up, and herded them back where they'd come from. I checked that Ducky didn't need me any more, there were LEOs on guard, they'd already put tape out. Went back to the restaurant and took statements. I got the footage from their one security camera, but it only covered half the parking lot. It didn't even damn point in the right direction to cover the part of the street we wanted – ya wonder why they bother. I went out and noticed one empty space in a full lot; it wasn't covered by the camera. There was evidence of a small oil leak, looked like new oil, so it could just have been run-off from a freshly worked on engine. There was a tissue near the back of the slot, as if someone'd dropped it when they'd gone to the trunk of the vehicle."

"Really?" DiNozzo's eyebrows went up. "You didn't mention that – you said you'd found the tissue and the oil, but not the position."

"Didn't seem significant – I took a photo with a marker before I removed it later. Why?"

"You'd say the tissue and the vehicle were connected?"

"No way of telling. I took it as evidence cuz it was better than not taking it."

DiNozzo nodded. "The lab confirmed the oil was new." He held back on the significance of that for a moment, and picked up one particular document. "I've got your map of the lot, with the empty slot marked, and the range of the camera. Sam Neville's car was here – you've marked it – all the others as well – Melanie came in a taxi, you checked that. All the others are accounted for, Crawford and Lishman both got a lift from Neville, all the other women came in Heather's car. Iltaf came by himself and Carmody walked."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "So?"

He wondered if he needed to ask, and then wondered why he was wondering.

"Wait up... one more thing – Neville senior." Tony paused, going over the many ways he'd thought of broaching the subject. When Gibbs had known Hilliard Neville, his girls had been alive. "Did you get on well with him?"

"No. Man was an ass. Why?" Tony caught his glance and held it; no way would he chicken out of this. He said very levelly, "I had three different people all point to a very bad relationship with his son. Poor opinion of him. Any feelings on that?"

"DiNozzo, the kid was 'bout seven when I knew his father."

"Yeah... I understand. What did you think of Sam Neville when you met him that night. Did you realise who he was?"

"Soon as I saw his second name was Hilliard. Didn't mention it though – wasn't goin' to say 'hey, served with your father – he was a jerk. Used to call you little bastard'." The probie, who'd stayed resolutely silent so far, smothered a distressed gasp. "Thought the kid had grown up pretty good in spite of it. What've I said?"

"You've said 'the kid'. As if you knew him." He waited, as Gibbs' brow furrowed.

The older man nodded slowly. "Once," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I saw him once, a farewell party on someone's back lot at Quantico. The kid was with his nanny all day, parents never paid him any attention at all. Really nice kid too – he and Kelly... kinda took to each other... she was a good judge of character. She asked him why his Mommy and Daddy didn't speak to him, or to each other, and I'd never noticed it until Kel did..."

"D'you remember what he said?"

"Yeah..." Gibbs said. "Never gave it another thought until now." He raised troubled eyes to the other man's. "He said, 'He says he's not my daddy. Mommy doesn't like him... but it's all right, he's not there very often.' Shan was disgusted. Hell,so was I. Kelly said that was terrible, and he said it wasn't, because he'd got Shellee. She said Shirley? He said no, Shir-LEE, and showed her how to put the emphasis on the second part. He pointed to his nanny, who was just hovering in the background. Seemed to be making sure he was safe without spoiling his fun. Cared more about him than his parents did."

"Shirlee," Alex said slowly. "Sounds as if she'd do anything for the child she loved more than his parents did... like get a job at NCIS because father said so, and remove evidence. If the time scale's right, that's it."

"But..." Gibbs said, "Sam Neville didn't do it, you said."

"Father didn't believe that," Alex told him. The two cold-case agents explained what Sam had said. Tony poured more coffee, not sure whether feeding Gibbs addiction would make him feel better, or make the headache worse.

He looked at his notes. "Shirlee joined NCIS two weeks after the hit-and-run," he said. "We'll ask HR she was recommended by anyone."

"Daddy Neville sees the broken indicator on his son's car, and jumps to the wrong conclusion," Alex said. "Gets rid of the Impala, makes son's old nanny get rid of the evidence. Shirlee's been difficult to trace so far."

"McGee can do that," Gibbs told her. "Ya wanna fill me in now? Why was the new oil important?"

"Confirms Carmody lied. We know where Heather McKellar's car was parked, and Neville's, and his was the same oil." He gave Gibbs the promised run-down, and was happy to see the Marine was genuinely interested. When he'd got him up to date, Tony asked, "Can McGee also find out how Sheena Fothergill's AWOL status disappeared? We haven't found her yet. She disappeared right afterwards," he added in response to Gibbs' enquiring look. "May or may not be significant."

He observed the lines of strain around the Marine's eyes, and was just about to ask if he wanted to quit, as they had everything, when the older man said, "So, Carmody killed Lishman?"

DiNozzo actually smiled at him. "You agree?"

"Well, yeah! 'Less it was a random careless driver, the one who 'walked' to the restaurant... who reported that 'someone' had run his friend down. His car... missing from its slot... we didn't look for it because he said he'd walked – wonder what he did with it afterwards?"

Tony nodded, and Gibbs growled irritably again. "Dammit, DiNozzo – " he was aware that his voice was rising, but again he was hit by that 'don't give a damn' feeling. "Why are ya prattin' about, then? If you already knew it all, why'd ya bring me in?"

The younger man didn't yell back, he just looked tired. "I didn't, did I? Didn't know about Shirlee... and now we know why Sam's father doesn't like him. I wonder if it's true? Anyhoos, thought you might like – never mind. The tissue was the clincher – Sam Neville said Eddie sneezed all over him as he went out. Lurked behind his car, waiting for Lishman to come out, got in the vehicle and followed him. Still no proof without a confession, but I'm kind of hoping Dr. Doolittle can help us there." Alex looked at him reprovingly.

"So where is Carmody?"

"No idea yet, but his unit musters at Quantico at the end of the week. I'd like to get him before then though... Jenny's got Lishman's father visiting her tomorrow, and I'd like her to have good news to tell him. Sides, I need to know about Fothergill. Which of our two fine Marines is responsible for her disappearance, and what's happened to her."

Gibbs got up abruptly; he'd hardly listened properly since Quantico had been mentioned again. His mind was back to a bright green lawn, Marine wives and children in their best summer clothes, the bright warpaint of families fighting the grief of coming separation. For him, it had been forever. "Your case. You deal. Ya can have McGee and Ziva," he snarled ungraciously, and left the room without explanation.

Tony stood looking at the closed door for a long time, shoulders slumped, despair hugging him like a grey shroud. Finally, after busying herself replacing documents in folders, and putting used coffee cups on a tray in the corner for the janitorial staff, Alex came over and squeezed his elbow.

"Come on, Tiger," she said encouragingly. "Let's start with the worst crime. We need to find Carmody."

He regarded her mournfully. "Can't help worrying about him. I thought we were getting somewhere – it's the main reason I wanted to talk to him... get him interested. Ahh, you're right. Carmody."

NCISNCISNCIS

He hadn't liked the disappointment swimming in the younger man's eyes. He didn't know why it should concern him... but the guy had been trying to help him, he could see that. He tried to remember pre-explosion, and how things were then, what it had been like between him and his Senior Field Agent, and just as it always did when he tried to reach through the fog, the headache surged up. He found himself standing outside Autopsy, and forced himself not to turn round and flee. The door sensor caught him anyway, and Ducky looked round as it swished open.

"Jethro..."

"OK, Ducky, ya want me to see someone. Make me an appointment. Now."

NCISNCISNCIS

Dr. Dooley smiled placidly at his audience of two, and waved a hand expansively at the box lids that were now stacked up ready to go back to their basement home. "I'd probably have just run an eye over them all and come up with the same conclusion," he said, but I did it scientifically. Lawyers like that." He flipped a two-hundred-dollar micrometer up in the air, and caught it behind his back, and Alex was relieved to see the beginning of a smile on her Boss's face. "The Box hadn't sat in its place more than a week or so – less than a month, certainly, before it was moved again."

Robbie directed their attention to The Box, and switched the lights on again. Politely, he handed the lens to Alex first, and used the end of a microscope probe to point something out. Caught in a fold of the stiff cardboard was - "A hair!" Alex exclaimed.

Tony looked next. "Blonde," he said. "Female?"

"Oh yes indeed," Robbie said happily.

"How can you tell that?" Alex protested. "You guys, and blondes..."

"Because, fair lady," Robbie bowed exaggeratedly, "I left that one in place for you to see where I'd found it. I've retrieved two others." He went serious. "Both have the roots intact. I've already ascertained that they're from the same person; the use of a lightning agent suggests female... and I'll know whether I'm making assumptions or not before too long, because we'll have -"

"DNA," Tony finished.

"I have more," Robbie said, holding up a finger, and Tony thought of Abby and kept his face under control. "Two mores, in fact. First more is this." He indicated a microscope, and this time Tony looked first.

"It's a bit of the missing indicator glass," he said in surprise.

"You're right," Robbie said. "It was stuck in that crevasse, with the hair. I have to consult a database, but so far I'd say not American, probably Japanese. There's a minute amount of blood, although so deteriorated there'll be no DNA from that I'm afraid. But we know the car hit something that bled... seven years later it's a very tall order to find the car, but if your suspect owned a Japanese one at the time, this'll help."

Tony smiled. "You said there's a second more," he reminded him.

"Come back to The Box..." Robbie beckoned, picking up the probe again. "D'you see here? And here?" He pointed to several more or less circular marks in the cardboard bottom of The Box.

"You've lifted one," Tony said. "Do you know what they are?"

"Yes," Robbie said. "Whoever took the evidence was crying at the time."

"Coerced into committing a criminal offence," Alex said. "that she'd signed a declaration to swear that she wouldn't do. It's not surprising that she was crying."

"And we'll still have to arrest her," Tony said grimly, then managed a smile. "Nice work, Robbie. Let us know if that database turns up anything.

"Oh, it will. I'll be in touch."

NCISNCISNCIS

Tony strode into the squad room so fast Alex was almost running to keep up with him. "Hey," she hissed, "you might be able to lope, I can only scuttle!"

"Sorry!"

As they got to their desks, Tim got up immediately, and came round the end of the partition. Ziva followed more reluctantly.

"Tony! D'you know what's happening? Gibbs rang about half an hour ago. He said he was taking the rest of the day off, and – I quote, 'you belong to DiNozzo until I get back'."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't expecting him to make it that easy," he muttered almost to himself. "He didn't have a good morning, Tim. He had to remember almost the last time he saw his family. Guess he's gone home to rest. I hope he has..." He clapped his hands together. "Right, that cold case that suddenly became hot again... we've a lot to do in a short time. Find an AWOL Marine, and how her case disappeared, an ex Baggy Bunny, a Japanese car, a Marine murder suspect who's on leave..."

Tim beckoned and headed back to the bull pen. "Come on... you two can use my old desk," he went over to it and began booting up equipment that had stood idle for a while. Tony was glad that official SFA or not, Tim had moved to his old desk; he had no desire to sit there again. "If you need another computer we can use Gibbs's. Who d'you want to do which job?"

He saw Tony's rather rueful smile, and the way that Ziva was standing stiffly, almost as if she were awaiting orders. "I know," he added quietly. "Like old times, but not."

"Yeah, just like that," Tony agreed sadly. "But hey, we've got some dirtbags to catch, who think they've got away with it – and we're going to do it today!"

TBC

AN: Earthdragon, another thoughtful observation from you – I'm sure others have thought of it too... why don't they say Dr. Sciuto? Surely she must have a doctorate? At least one...