A/N: This is it, everyone. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
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Chapter 13: Time
Gibbs walked briskly through the doorway of the Director's reception area, offering a quick smile to the new assistant. "Hey, Amy."
"Morning, Gibbs." She smiled back. "The Director should just be a moment."
Jenny Shepherd's voice came through the speaker on the phone a second later and Gibbs winked. "You're good."
He was back out of the office in less than ten minutes, heading across the fourth floor concourse and down the stairs, pausing halfway down.
The squadroom was crowded, with agents both sitting and milling around and desks in a variety of stages of disarray. He was sure there had to be at least twenty faces or more but at the moment he was only interested in five.
Ron Frederickson. The young agent was sitting at his desk in the intelligence row, his head bent low and his shoulders tense, talking to someone on the phone. Robyn Johnson, on her way back to her desk from the photocopier. She caught his gaze and gave him a smile, which he returned.
Jack Balboa. His desk was also empty, but it wouldn't be for long. He was coming down the hallway from the personnel elevator with another agent, their laughter ringing across the room. Ziva David, sitting in her chair opposite Tony, both appearing to be hard at work on their computers, although he was willing to bet they were actually trading teasing remarks or at least e-mails.
And Tim McGee. Like Robin and Jack, his desk was empty, but there was no sign of him anywhere. There hadn't been since he'd left it six months earlier, semi-conscious and covered up to his shoulders with a white blanket on a gurney.
Gibbs swallowed, his smile gone, then cleared his throat and spoke. "Naval Corpsman found dead out on the docks."
He knew his voice carried the distance it needed to because both Tony and Ziva looked up. They didn't move though, simply stared at him. Gibbs swallowed hard, then raised his voice louder. "Naval Corpsman found dead out on the docks!"
Slowly the two agents got to their feet and began pulling their gear together, their motions hesitant like first- or second-graders gathering their books at the end of the day. Gibbs took another step down the stairwell and another, his foot touching the landing, where he promptly froze.
The elevator doors were opening and a man was stepping out. Running out, his sandy hair tousled and his eyes wide. He caught sight of Gibbs on the stairs and immediately halted. "Boss...I couldn't help it...there was construction..."
Tony's face broke into the slow smile he hardly ever showed, while Ziva just grinned, her dark eyes sparkling as she looked up at Gibbs. For a second the sun caught a tear glistening just below the agent's blue irises before he turned to finish descending the stairs, the light and relief concealed by his usual command.
"Grab your gear."
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THE END