Gibbs impatiently checked his watch as he stood in Observation, keeping an eye on Frank Bilotti from behind the mirror
Gibbs impatiently checked his watch as he stood in Observation, keeping an eye on Frank Bilotti from behind the mirror. Bilotti had either been dozing or doing a hell of a good job feigning sleep with his head on the table in Interrogation, where Gibbs had tossed him on arrival at NCIS hours ago. It was true that the guilty ones could always fall asleep.
He allowed himself a soft grunt of laughter as he remembered the look on Bilotti's face when they'd led him out of Palmer's apartment in handcuffs. The guy didn't even know he hadn't come close to the kid, continuing to cast confused looks at Agents Mather and Beecher, who had been waiting to take him down the moment he picked the lock. Gibbs continued to smile, even as he caught sight of his own pleased reflection in the glass. It had almost been disappointing how perfectly the simple ruse had worked; the waiting had built up a tension that went unfulfilled. At least their easy arrest had stopped Jen's complaining. He wasn't even sure if she'd gone home or retreated to her office to wait for Ziva to come in.
Pulling his gaze away from the sleeping man, he checked his watch again. 8:15 AM. Someone ought to be in the bullpen by now. He'd told them to come in by 8:30 and that meant they'd probably already been here for fifteen minutes. He turned and said to the tech in the room, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty."
"Yes, sir."
When he arrived in the squad room, only Ziva was seated at her desk. "Good morning, Gibbs."
"Morning. Where's everyone?"
She continued whatever she was doing on the computer as she said, "Harry is in the bathroom and Tony and McGee are not here yet."
"Not…here?" he asked incredulously.
"They should be here soon," she amended quickly. She looked up but quickly looked away. "Since McGee and I left our cars at the old apartment when we slipped out the back, Tony figured out some plan to get things reorganized. I came here in the company car with Harry, but he decided that he would drive McGee over to pick his up this morning, then we'll get mine on the way home and…"
"Ziva," he cut her off, feeling a sudden need for coffee, "relax. How's the kid?"
She furrowed her brow before delivering the analysis, "He is in good spirits."
Gibbs paused on his way toward the elevator. "That a problem?"
"I just find it odd. It's almost like he doesn't realize his parents have died. I know Ducky said that he's repressing the event as a coping mechanism, but…"
"Yeah. It's weird. But at least everything went okay at your place last night." A few more wrinkles appeared as her forehead contracted further. He sighed, knowing he was going to have to wait a little longer for his coffee. "You told me everything went okay, Ziva."
"No, it is not anything to do with Harry." She folded her hands tightly on her blotter. "Gibbs, may I ask you a personal question?"
He paused to think about it before deciding more information was necessary. "About?"
"Your daughter."
"Look, don't make judgments about your qualifications as a parent after spending one night babysitting a kid who thinks he's a magician."
"Wizard."
"Whatever. When it happens, if it happens…" He waved his hand to try and wrap up the pride, love, fear… He found he couldn't sum up the experience of being a parent in words he wanted to say aloud and finished, "You'll be fine."
"That is good to know," she said, beginning to look nervous, "however, I was going to ask if you were frightened of becoming a father?"
He restrained an urge to smack her head. "You've been out enough. I'm not signing off on any maternity leave. Your ass is staying parked at that desk until your water breaks."
"Gibbs, I'm not pregnant. Ow!"
"Good." He pulled his hand back over the partition. "I'm goin' for coffee." He strode to the elevator and stabbed the button with his index finger. As he was waiting for it to arrive, he decided that he should probably answer the question he'd been asked. "Ziva?"
She stood to look at him. "Yes?"
"Like I said, you'll be fine."
"And Tony?"
"I think he'll surprise you."
"How'd you know I stopped and got coffee for everyone?" Tony asked, unexpectedly stepping out of the elevator that had just opened. "There's the big one for you, boss."
Gibbs accepted the cup before asking, "What'd you do?" He interrupted before Tony could get started, "Never mind. Where's McGee?"
"Driving Miss Daisy? I don't know why he bothered with a Porsche if he was just gonna go speed limit all the time." He pulled another cup from the tray and handed it to Ziva. "He should be here…hey, there's the Speed Probster." He held a cup out to McGee as he entered the bullpen. "Think you can handle the rush you might get from the caffeine?"
McGee scowled. "You ran that red light."
"Learn to drag race. You gotta ride the clutch off the line and…oh, wait. You drive an automatic. At least you got to enjoy my Mustang's taillights."
"How did you have time to stop for coffee and still get here before me?"
"Shortcut, grasshopper."
"You two finished?" Gibbs interjected just as Harry came around the corner. "Hey, Harry. You have a good night?"
"Gibbs!" The boy ran up and stopped just short of hugging him. "Ziva told me you used your powers to capture You-Know-Who! Can you tell me which spells you used? I bet they were ones only a really powerful wizard like you could do."
Gibbs looked around for some help, having exhausted all he could have said on the topic on the phone with the boy the previous night, but McGee and Tony were stashing their gear and Ziva was insistently looking away while rubbing the back of her head. He opted for a change of topic. "Did you meet Abby yesterday?"
"Who's Abby? Is she a witch?"
"Oh, you have no idea, kid." Tony held out a bottle. "Here, I got you a juice."
"Thank you." Harry turned back to Gibbs. "Can I meet Abby? Will she be allowed to show me any magic?"
Ziva rescued him from further annoyance by jumping in, "Remember that we told you we don't use magic here?"
"Because of the Muggles, I know." Harry hung his head.
McGee knelt beside him. "Trust me, magic is probably the least interesting thing you'll think about when you meet Abby."
"Take him down and then meet these two in Observation," Gibbs said, scooping up a handful of files off his desk and not waiting to make sure Tony and Ziva were following him as he stalked toward the elevator. As expected, they squeezed through the doors just before they could close. He flicked the emergency stop almost immediately. "Did you ask the kid if he'd take a look at Bilotti?"
Ziva nodded. "I told him about the one-way mirror…"
"You mean magic mirror," Tony interrupted.
She gave a sigh of exasperation. "Yes, fine. He seemed to be reassured by it, but we can call up the video in Abby's lab if he is too frightened to come into Observation, yes?"
"Good."
A few minutes later, Gibbs set his coffee down before slapping his files against the table. "Wake up."
Bilotti slowly raised his head and yawned. "Where's my coffee, Agent…?"
"Gibbs," he provided, taking a long sip from his coffee cup. He decided to start small. "It's against the law to break into private residences."
"Yeah, and do I feel stupid about that." He grinned like a buffoon. "See, it's just a simple misunderstandin'. I was visitin' a buddy of mine and lost the key he gave me. I didn't want to wake him, so I decided to let myself in. Imagine my surprise when you people took me down."
"That the best you can do?"
"Best I can do is the truth, sir, on my sainted mother's grave, God rest her soul." He was gazing upward with one hand over his heart.
Gibbs took another long sip of coffee as he consulted one of the files in front of him. "Your mother is still alive, Frank. Do you want to try again?"
His prayerful pretense dropped as his voice became hard. "Y'know, I think I'd rather make my phone call. And I ain't sayin' anything else about this alleged break-in 'til I talk to my lawyer."
"Well, if he charges by the hour, I'm sure your lawyer will be happy to visit you at Gitmo."
"Tryin' to scare me, Agent Gibbs? Last time I checked, they weren't sendin' any old criminals up there."
"Down there," Gibbs corrected. Sensing this wouldn't take much longer, he pushed a photo of Nelson in dress whites across the table. "Lt. Gregory Nelson worked at the Pentagon. Obviously I can't discuss what he did, but let's just say that we take acts of domestic terrorism like assassinations very seriously."
"Hey, I ain't ever seen this guy before. Look, I…I admit it, okay? I fucked up last night. I broke into a place in a pretty nice neighborhood thinkin' I might get a nice haul. There, you got your confession. Breakin' and enterin', what's that, a fine?"
"Five to thirty. I'd be more concerned about the murder if I were you, though."
Bilotti quickly regained his air of false bravado. "If you had shit on me you wouldn't be wastin' time with this B&E crap." He laughed. "I didn't kill those people."
He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't mention anyone but Lt. Nelson."
"Yeah, that's what I mean. I didn't kill him."
"Cut the crap, Frank. Yesterday morning you murdered Gregory and Joanne Nelson with the gun we found on you last night when you tried to finish the job by killing their son."
"No! I bought that piece off some guy in the street in the afternoon!"
Gibbs ignored the outburst, continuing, "You're going down for this. We've got the weapon. We've your DNA off casings at the murder scene. Our forensic scientist thinks you kissed them before you tried to hide them in the grass. What do they call that in high school English? Hubris?"
"Shut the fuck up! You got nothin' on me and you can fuckin' shut up until I get my lawyer in here, you fuckin' fed."
Gibbs leaned back and softly rapped on the mirror. They had enough physical evidence for a conviction and a pretty good guess on the motive that they'd have time to look into. "Have it your way, Frank."
They had been sitting in cold silence for at least five minutes when the mirror began to rattle violently.