AN: This is officially my longest fic yet! I'll have another chapter or two, to tie up any loose ends. Thanks to all who've reviewed so far (105 at the moment)! Especially VivaZiva, M E Wofford, Cable Addict, and balou who've reviewed every chapter! I'm sure there are more of you who've reviewed them all, but those are the one's I know of off the top of my head. Its wonderful to know that people read and actually like my work! I started writing fanfiction mostly as a sort of "screw you" to my old teacher who called my work "bland and unimaginative". Hey, my reviews beg to differ! If you're reading this Mr. Mills, take your damn red pen and stick it!
Ducky walked through the parking lot of the now all too familiar Green Dragon Tavern. Out front, he could see McGee, Tony and Gibbs standing over the dead body of Wesley Mason. As he approached, he noticed the man's body had been struck by no fewer than a dozen bullets, most of which were in the chest, with one in the head, directly between the eyes, "Well, my boy. I think that its safe to say that someone wanted you dead."
Tony crouched down, getting a closer look, "Yep. Turned him into swiss head cheese," he received a slap to the head, "Too far, boss?"
"Ya think!" as much as he'd come to despise his former comrade, Gibbs wouldn't let Tony speak ill of the dead, especially when he knew that this wasn't really Mason's fault. Wes left behind a wife and two sons, and there was nothing funny about that.
"I suppose that the only question here is who had the...shall we say testicular fortitude to pull the trigger?" he looked around at the three agents, eyebrows raised, "All three of you have just cause for wanting him dead. Jethro for what he did to you surrogate daughters, Timothy for the pain he caused your dear girl and the brutal crime he committed against a beloved friend, and Anthony because he violated your lover. Now the only question is who had the satisfaction of killing this bastard?" no one said anything, "Oh, come now! One way or another I will find out who did this, so why not just come out and say it!"
"That's just the thing, Duck," McGee tried to explain, "He was dead when we got here."
"Really?" he looked down at the corpse, "It would appear that there was more than one shooter. There are at least a dozen rounds in this fellow! Whoever did this did not just want him dead. He or she wanted him annihilated." he took the liver temperature, "Are you sure that none of you were here at the time of his death? He died within the hour."
"Ducky, we've only been here half an hour," Tony insisted, "We got here, and he wasn't there. We went in to look for him, didn't find him. When we came out, there he was."
Ziva hadn't realized she had fallen asleep until she was awoken by a sharp rapping on her front door. Taking a second to wake up a bit, she stumbled tiredly to the door, where Abby was already checking to see who it was. "Who is there, Abby?"
"Some old guy," Abby, as tall as she was even without the four inch heels, had to bend over to see into the peephole, "He doesn't look very friendly, but in a Gibbsish kinda way!"
Confused, Ziva gently pushed Abby aside to look. From the other side of the door, a voice called, "Zivaleh, open the door!" reluctantly, she opened the door, letting her father into the apartment, "I got a bit worried when you did not answer the door right away."
"Sorry, I was sleeping," she immediately switched to her native tongue before seeing Abby's baffled look, "Sorry, Abby. It would probably be better to use English, Aba."
Abby looked at the two Israelis, almost in awe, "What was that? It sounds so...weird, but cool. I mean, I've always loved the word 'Channukah', because you have to sort of hack a loogie when you say it, but there's a whole language that's like that! You gotta teach me!"
Director David eyed Abby, not quite sure what to think of her. Her Gothic attire, assertive attitude, and pigtails were certainly quite a change from the rather conservative Middle East. "Hello...and you are?" his hand instinctively went to the knife at his waist. Ziva's keen eyes didn't miss his subtle move to the defensive, and her hand covered her fathers, and the look in her eyes told him to settle down a bit, "Sorry, what is your name?"
"I'm Abby Scutitto, who the hell are you?" she asked sweetly, extending her hand in greeting
The old Israeli chuckled a bit at her, "I like this one! She has kutzpah!" he told his daughter
"'Kutzpah', is that a good thing?" she asked Ziva
"It basically means that you have balls, Abby." Ziva explained, trying to find an appropriate English equivalent, "This is my father, Benjamin David." she introduced them, grateful that there was now only a small chance that they would kill each other
"Sweet!" Abby cried triumphantly
Gibbs walked briskly into Autopsy, Tony following at his heels, "Tell me you've got something, Duck!" he could tell by looking at the body that Ducky was nearly finished
"Well, Jethro, its the strangest thing!" Ducky walked over to the x-rays, displayed on the wall, "Take a look here, what do you see?"
"A body?" Gibbs suggested, "There's nothing wrong that I can see. What are you trying to tell me, Ducky? That there's no bullets?"
"Precisely!" Ducky smiled, "Ordinarily, one would see bullets, of which there are at least a dozen. However, there are not bullets in this man's body!"
"Magic bullet. Very James Bond," Tony noted in his best Bond accent
"I've heard of people policing their brass, but the bullets?" Gibbs walked over to the body, examining it for himself, "Seems like a bit too much trouble for most people."
"One would think so, yes," Ducky wheeled the body into storage, "Why waste the time, and take the effort? The one in the skull was a through and through, likely the kill shot. However it has not turned up at the scene thus far."
"Whoever did it knew what they were doing," Gibbs noted, "Used a silencer, outside a packed bar, when no one was outside to witness, this could have been a professional hit." he had a moment of realization, knowing full well who killed this man
"I think I know who, boss." Tony smirked
Abby sat in the kitchen with Ziva and her father, waiting patiently while they prepared dinner. Ziva was a wonderful cook, and she was looking forward to the meal, but she was also feeling a bit useless, sitting there doing nothing, "Do you guys want any help with anything?" she offered
"No, we are almost done," Ziva assured her, "However, if you would like, you may slice the loaf of French bread in the cupboard." she tried to give Abby an easy task, not wanting to cause her too much stress in her current health
"Sure," Abby sighed, growing tired of being sheltered. She began randomly pulling out drawers, looking for knives. She was a bit surprised at how long it was taking to find them. She'd expected there to be a dozen or more in Ziva's kitchen, not counting the ones used for food. "Hey, Ziva? Why do you have two knife drawers? Does it matter which one I use?"
Ziva found a suitable knife for her, "For bread, no it does not matter. This one will work fine."
"My daughter may not be very religious, but thankfully she keeps a kosher kitchen," Director David handed Abby a bowl of ravioli, "One drawer is for knives that touch meat, the other is for knives that touch anything with dairy."
"Wow, that's a bit anal," Abby closed up the half-dozen drawers and cupboards she'd open, "I'd probably go crazy if I were Jewish. No bacon, no cheeseburgers, no...oh, my God! Ziva!" she gasped, "you've never had lobster!"
Ziva laughed a bit, "No, but I do not know what I am missing. So I do not dwell on it too much."
"Save any for me?" Tony walked into the kitchen, sniffing the pot on the stove, "Smells good!" the girls smiled welcomingly, while Director David glared at him
Abby stood and ran to greet him, "Hi, Tony! What did Gibbs want?" she hugged him briefly before dishing him up a bowl, needing to make herself feel useful
"Well, someone beat us to it," he explained sitting down at the table. Ziva handed him a slice of bread. As he took it from her, he noticed the stitches on the underside of her hand. He reached for her hand, worriedly looking it over, his fingertips running lightly over the cut, "What did you do?" he gave her palm a little kiss, "Haven't you been through enough?"
"Sorry, it was from your pizza, therefor it was your fault," she blushed a bit, both from the display of affection and the deadly glare she was receiving from her father from across the table, "Now what were you saying?"
"We found Wesley Mason, shot dead outside the bar," Tony continued, keeping his eyes glued on the older, but still obviously very capable Mossad Officer, "Seems he was shot, using a silencer, then the guy policed the bullets and brass. Over a dozen rounds in him."
"Whoa, talk about overkill!" Abby commented
"No such thing," Ziva smirked, "I personally think it is just enough kill."
"Any leads?" Director David asked innocently, "You were sure that he was the one responsible for the crimes against these girls, yes? Do you know who killed him?"
"I've got a hunch." Tony told him knowingly