January gave way to February. DC remained coated in a thin layer of snow. Mac's mood generally improved, Harm adjusted to life in the E-Ring and the Admiral had decided to turn down the General's generous job offer. Life at JAG remained comparatively unchanged then through February. As March came around, the snow was beating a hasty retreat. Harm had called Billy Ross up with the offer of taking him flying on the first Saturday that was warm enough. The kid had expressed some initial hesitancy but with a little prodding, Harm had gotten him to agree. So, on the first Saturday that was warm enough, Harm had stopped by Billy's mom's apartment to pick him up and then head out to the airfield in Blacksburg.
A few minutes after getting the kid up in the air, Harm wasn't hearing the usual feelings of exhilaration being expressed by the person in the front seat. Instead he just heard the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional loud gulp. "You okay there, kid?" Harm called using the radio.
"Oh...yeah." Harm heard the kid say nervously as his head nodded. "I'm fine."
"Are you afraid of flying?" Harm chanced, noticing the symptoms when he saw them.
"Uh...Not flying so much as heights." Billy gulped hard again.
"You can climb up a tree to take a sniper's nest but being up in a plane scares you?" Harm questioned in disbelief. He had a hard time believing that Annapolis' star recruit for the 2006 season was afraid of heights.
"In a tree, you're not a mile off the ground..." Billy was starting to sweat. "And if you fall, there's a lot of stuff to grab on to on the way down."
"I thought Marines weren't afraid of anything?" Harm challenged the youngster.
"Partial credit." Billy's breathing was still heavy, his eyes were slammed shut. "We're not afraid of any person. Things are a different matter. Heights, being eaten by large animals, enclosed spaces..." He gulped again. "Those are ya know, irrational fears. We're still human."
"Come on, Marine, gotta be tougher than that." Harm goaded as he pitched the Stearman into a dive. He took his hands off the stick in an attempt to shake the kid of his fears. "Alright, your bird." Harm shouted and Billy's eyes launched open.
He watched the stick move around between his legs in relation to the wind and flight dynamics of the plane. He reached down and instinctively put his hand around the stick and yanked it back, pulling the plane out of its dive. Gulping again, he clung to the stick for dear life. "Ease up on the stick." Harm warned. "If you don't, we're gonna..."
It was too late, the plane already committed to a loop and took the two passengers upside down. "Ease up on the stick as we come out of the loop." Harm instructed and Billy did as he was told. The Stearman levelled off and went wings level. The kid exhaled hard and opened his eyes, his heart was pounding in his ears.
"Well, it took twenty years, but I might have found a pilot crazier than I am." Harm joked through the radio and Billy smiled.
"Just don't do that to me again, okay?" Billy said as his panic subsided. "I'm perfectly okay in anything that has an actual enclosure over it's cockpit. Why couldn't you own like a spitfire or a P51 or a hurricane or something?"
"Those are all single seater aircraft." Harm jousted back.
"I'd have been perfectly fine watching from the tarmac." Billy nodded quickly again.
"Ah, come on, Marine." Harm goaded. "Then you'd miss this." Harm guided the stick sharply right and the Stearman went into a barrel roll.
"Aaaaaaaaaahhh!!!" Billy shouted as the plane rolled off its even keel toward the ground. Once the barrel roll was done, Harm brought the plane back up even.
"So, there's no chance of me at least convincing you to be a Marine Aviator, if you have to be a Marine, right?" Harm jested as he turned the plane back toward the airfield.
"I don't know." Billy's composure was coming back. "Any chance we could try this again in an F-18?"
"Doubt it." Harm grinned a bit as he pulled into the pattern. "Stearman November Romeo 2-4-1, requesting permission to land."
"You are in the pattern, November Romeo and on the glide slope. Click twice for runway lights." The airfield manager responded. Harm clicked twice and the lights came on. Harm brought the Stearman down just about picture perfect. "November Romeo, you really kissed that one off."
Harm and Billy climbed out of the Stearman in the hangar and headed to the car. "Thanks, Captain, that was fun." Billy grinned as he climbed into the passenger seat.
"Seriously, it's okay to call me Harm." Harm fired up the Lexus. The SUV pulled out of the parking lot and back on to the roads leading toward DC. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you and Mac up to every Saturday morning?"
"It's a bit embarrassing." Billy shook his head. "When my dad died...he left me a letter he wrote. In it he told me that it was worthwhile to learn how to dance, he said it helped get girls. And being a teenage boy..."
"He might as well have told you that it could make you Superman." Harm joked.
"Yeah. So, I signed up for lessons back at the beginning of January. One Saturday, my mom couldn't drop me off because she had to take Simon and Owen somewhere, so Mac offered to drop me off. She hung around that time and she's been coming back every weekend." Billy's cheeks were an almost crimson shade of red. Harm was trying very hard to restrain some serious laughter.
"So that's what you two are doing on Saturdays?" Harm was grinning. "Your football buddies know?"
"If they did, I'd never hear the end of it." Billy's eyes nearly shot out of his head. "It's a little awkward dancing with Mac though, I mean she's old enough to be my mom."
"I'm gonna suggest you never tell her that, okay?" Harm joked.
"Got it." Billy smiled. "I told my football coach though, he figured that working on my footwork could make me better next season."
"You any good?" Harm questioned as they pulled into Arlington.
"Well, being a receiver helps with the footwork part." Billy answered. "But I can't really get into it. I don't really have the whole swagger thing and in the Latin stuff, I never know what to do with my hands."
"Well, that stuff is supposed to come easier when you're, you know, hot for the girl you're dancing with." Harm uncomfortably tried to explain to the teenager. "At least that's what I've been told."
"Yeah, you don't exactly strike me as the graceful dance floor type." Billy jousted back at him. "Think I could convince Special Agent Todd to go with me one Saturday?"
"You were really into her, huh?" Harm just shook his head.
"Listen, at school, I don't have to try with the girls. I'm a football player and a pretty smart guy, so it just kind of comes too easy." Billy hesitantly explained. "They fawn over me. It's boring. The sassy, tough challenging girls are more fun. Agent Todd has some fire."
"She's almost as old as Mac." Harm commented.
"So's Eva Mendes and I think she's hot." Billy grinned. "Besides, I mostly just enjoy flirting with Agent Todd. It's fun to see if I have game that actually works on women that don't just see me as being the animal at the top of the high school ecosystem."
"Uh huh, so you're not secretly hoping that Agent Todd has a little bit of the cougar in her with full knowledge that in four months you'll be at the age of consent in DC?" Harm peaked an eyebrow.
"No!" Billy protested. He tried to keep a straight face but after about thirty seconds, he just couldn't hold it any more. "Okay, maybe a little."
"You're evil, you know that?" Harm laughed.
"I'm well aware of that fact." Billy smiled as they pulled up in front of his mom's apartment building. "Thanks for the ride, Harm."
"No problem, kiddo." Harm smiled. "Go easy on your mom, huh?"
"Yeah, okay." Billy nodded before shutting the door to the Lexus. Harm watched the kid jog up the stairs toward the front door of the apartment building before pulling away from the curb. It was Saturday evening, he didn't exactly want to go home just yet. That was one of the things about hanging out with young guys, they usually left you with the same kind of hunger for fun that you had when you were their age. Couldn't hang out with any of the guys from his Academy days, Keeter and Bax weren't in town and Sturgis was probably doing something with Bobbi. Bud was a bit of a home body nowadays and Harm didn't really no anyone at his new job well enough.
"I'd love to help you out, buddy." Harm looked at the passenger seat where his angelic companion had suddenly appeared. Back in his suit and tie look. Probably the only time in recent memory when someone could be in the front seat of a car holding a tumbler of whisky. "Gotta be something you can do. It's too early in the year to go to the driving range."
"Why are you here?" Harm looked at him.
"Been three months, Harm. You can start approaching her as a friend." Nate coached.
"You know what? What makes you so damn sure that this is what I want?" Harm protested in a loud voice.
"You're lucky the windows are rolled down, Harm. Otherwise one of the other motorists might see you shouting at yourself in an empty car and think you're nuts." Nate taunted.
"You're deflecting." Harm noted.
"You know what you want, Harm." Nate started to explain. "And I know what you want because I have the best intelligence sources in the universe. Also, you're not all that cryptic. You're a good guy but you need a kick in the ass more than the next twelve guys in line behind you."
"Don't sugar coat it for me, Nate, give it to me straight." Harm tossed sarcastically. "What the hell makes you even think she's interested, huh? That when I finally do make a move, I won't be left standing out on the sidewalk somewhere in the rain with a bunch of wilting flowers in my hand?"
"You want me to tell you there's no risk?" Nate scoffed. "You're a fighter pilot for God's sake and unless you've forgotten, a damn good one. Risk should not be a deterrent for you. If it was, you'd never fly off a carrier deck." Nate gritted teeth. "And in case you've forgotten one other thing, I'm actually here to help you. As foolish a task as that might seem from time to time."
"Yeah, well I'm not sure you are helping." Harm pushed back. "You're in my head, now, you're gonna have me second guessing myself. Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to do it your way? Maybe I want to go my own way on this one?"
"Harm, think of this like a football game. You're Tom Brady, I'm Bill Belichick. I'm gonna call the plays early in the game but when it comes down to the last two minutes, you've got to depend on the quarterback, the guy with the ball, to run the plays." Nate encouraged. "First you've gotta be her friend again, though."
"Well, that I think I can do without help." Harm commented.
"I think I can go a little hands of then." Nate looked out the car window. "I'll tell you to run the ball or throw it. You pick the play."
"And tonight?" Harm asked, settling down again.
"I'd run the ball. You don't need a first down, just to move the ball upfield. Three or four yards works for you right now." Nate coached. "Before I head back upstairs, I do need to ask your permission for one thing."
"What could you possibly need my permission for?" Harm shook his head.
"Well, it's a Hendrix concert tonight and I was thinking of asking Diane but I figured I should own up and make sure it was okay with you first?" Nate put on his sliest grin.
"Nothing I can really do about it." Harm answered. "Are you really that ready to move on after Mac?"
"Harm, it really makes no sense for me to grieve my own death." Nate answered. "Thanks for the permission." He smiled. "And we're here." Nate pointed out the driver's side window at Mac's apartment building. Harm turned his head to look out the window, when he looked back at the passenger seat, his companion was gone.
"Hope he tells me how that Hendrix concert was." Harm chuckled as he climbed out of the Lexus. He strode the familiar staircase and hallway before ending up at Mac's front door. Stopping for a second, he examined the door before knocking.
"Coming!" Mac called from inside the apartment. She jogged over to the door in work out clothes. Swinging open the door, she smiled at Harm. "Hey, what's up?"
"Just got back from the airfield, was wondering if you wanted to do something." Harm nervously wore the tip of his shoe into the carpet of the hallway.
"Harm I'd like to but one thing I've had to adjust to since Nathan died is that going somewhere with a man is a virtual no go yet." Mac explained. "Because he was so high profile right before he died and because he died in so high profile a way, anyone near him became a tabloid target. You wouldn't believe what I lived through the first few weeks after it happened." Mac welcomed Harm into the apartment. "The questions, did I know he was cheating on me? Did he know I was pregnant? Did he abuse me? Did he get violent when he drank like my father?" Mac shook her head. "There's no such thing as humanity in the tabloid business."
"Mac, you should have told me." Harm's voice lowered to express his tenderness.
"It wasn't the worst for me. After that Court TV stuff a few years ago, I had some way of dealing with it but after word of Billy's eulogy at the funeral got around, they started going after him. For some people, the nicer People Magazine types, it was sympathy that they wanted to convey. For others, it was any dirt they could find. They were guessing, but they were right about Billy's paternity, even if they didn't and still don't know it." Mac wrung her hands.
"Both of you could have come to me." Harm stated.
"It's never that easy, Harm." Mac stated. "It was easier just to turn to each other, because we could empathize." Mac put a hand on his. "I do think that Billy had it easier than I did. I mean there were magazines saying he had a JFK Jr. thing. I don't think anyone ever compared me to Jackie or Ethel Kennedy." Mac gave a sarcastic laugh. "Not that I wanted that, I think I mostly wanted to be left alone."
"Is it getting easier?" Harm wondered, partially to satisfy his own curiosity.
"What I've found, is that there are two ways of defeating this beast. Sometimes, it's like a starving snake and you've got to let it feed so much that it'll suffocate itself on its prey. Other times, you can starve it out. I picked starving it out this time. It'll take a few months, but I'll probably be able to go to the movies or dinner with friends again without hearing about how I'm engaging in some kind of illicit affair." Mac shook her head. "But that doesn't mean we can't hang out here."
"What did you have in mind, Colonel?" Harm smiled.
"How about a movie on cable, I'll make some popcorn and we can talk." Mac offered as she hopped off the couch. "You know, like we used to."
"Sure, sounds great." Harm grinned and nodded as he relaxed on the couch.
"So, how was flying with the kid today?" Mac shouted from the kitchen.
"Did you know he was afraid of heights?" Harm replied from the couch.
"Yeah." Mac laughed as she stuck the popcorn in the microwave. "I've seen that kid pour Tabasco sauce on horse radish on jalapeño peppers and stick them on a hot dog. How any one that willing to abuse their body that way can be afraid of anything..."
"Hey, we all did crazy things when we were kids." Harm shrugged. "I remember water-skiing naked once. Don't remember wiping out being a pleasant experience."
"No I imagine not." Mac laughed boisterously in the kitchen. "Feel free to turn the TV on and pick a movie, Harm. No Top Gun!"
"Yes, mom." Harm groaned as he channel surfed. "Speaking of mom, are you really okay with the kid referring to you as his stepmom?"
"At first, it was a little jarring but knowing that there was someone who knew what I was going through and was just kind of there for me, it seemed appropriate." Mac smiled as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen.
"And is that where the dancing lessons came from?" Harm had his own working version of the Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he got up from the couch.
"He told you?" Mac's cheeks grew an instant redness. "I was a late addition to the class but I think I'm a star pupil. I love dancing the mambo, the tango. It's a lot of fun. The poor kid though, I think he hears conga drums and has nightmares, he's so embarrassed dancing with me."
"No younger girls in the class?" Harm moved into the kitchen.
"There are and I think he'd prefer to dance with them, but he's trying to protect me from some of the older men in the class." Mac smiled fondly. "Especially when I start getting into the music. I've never seen a kid try so hard to lead with his fingertips and from almost two feet away. You could fit a lane of traffic between the two of us." She couldn't help but laugh at that thought.
"The kid got any skill?" Harm wondered.
"Top notch footwork. But he dances really nervous." Mac analyzed. "His hands are always fidgeting and he's too tense to dance to anything with momentum. "Probably something like you I imagine."
"Hey, what makes you think I can't dance?" Harm toyed as he folded his arms in front of his chest.
"Harm, I think the only time I've seen you ever move your hips was when you were turning around." Mac laughed as she poured the popcorn into the bowl. "Otherwise I wouldn't have even known they were there."
"I can move." Harm protested.
"Oh yeah?" Mac challenged. She walked past Harm, into the living room and flipped on the radio. When Candida by Tony Orlando came on, Mac walked over and grabbed Harm's hands and moved him out to the middle of the floor. "Show me what you'd do."
Harm felt like a middle school boy. He was tentative bordering on shy. He laid one set of fingertips on Mac's left hip and took her other hand in his. He wasn't quite sure where to go from there. "Baby steps." Mac coached. "A few inches at a time. Right foot forward." She instructed and Harm tried to move the two of them around the carpet, hitting his calves a few times on the coffee table. Mac had to strain to hold her laughter back. He was at least making an honest to God effort. As the verse of the song gave way to the chorus, Harm decided that he'd mastered the basic steps and figured he could throw a little fancy footwork all his own into the dance. He executed a quick shuffle backward as he twirled Mac out of their original position. In doing so, he tripped over his feet, falling to the ground and sending Mac spinning and tumbling to the carpet five feet away.
When she hit the ground, Mac broke out into chuckles. Upon recovering, Harm looked over at Mac who was bordering on tears she was laughing so hard. "Something to share with the class, Marine?" Harm asked as he sat up.
"You...move like...the Tin Man." Mac continued laughing as she sat up as well. "Need an oil can, Harm?"
"No worries about over-inflating my ego around here, huh?" Harm got to his feet.
"Just wondering how you and Keeter got all those girls during your first cruises after Pensacola." Mac went back into the kitchen and grabbed the popcorn. "You clearly couldn't keep up with the Barcelona girls on the dance floor."
"The dress whites and gold wings didn't hurt, Mac." Harm peaked an eyebrow. "And I like to think I'm a nice guy, that helps."
"You're a nice guy, good guy and a smart guy, too." Mac nodded. "None of which are necessarily qualities that would shine through in a night club surrounding where hormones are bouncing off the walls. But for a grown woman, yeah you'd be basically good material." Mac gave him a pat on top of his head. "Gotta learn to dance though."
A few yards at a time, Harm thought to himself. A few yards at a time.
2312 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
The Admiral had summoned most of the usual JAG crew to his office tonight. He'd even called Harm in from the Pentagon and his in-laws in from their house in Virginia. He'd been antsy about a doctor's appointment all week. This had raised the suspicion and the concern of most of the JAG staff who had become fond of the Admiral over the years. A man of his age placing so much emphasis on a doctor's appointment was rarely a good sign. The result was a staff walking around on eggshells all day, especially when the Admiral left at 1100 this morning for that appointment.
Sturgis was Sturgis. He was trying to calm the staff down, assuring them that there was a rational explanation for the Admiral's behaviour. Harriet and Bud were looking for some kind of clue, anything that would give them insight. Captain Ramirez was trying to determine her place in the social structure of the office as far as matters like this were concerned in the office. On the one hand, she'd been there almost a year and had bonded well with Lieutenant Commander Roberts, Lieutenant Sims and Colonel MacKenzie but she wasn't sure that necessarily made her a part of familial part of the JAG nucleus the way that they were. She was touched to be invited to the gathering tonight, especially when Lieutenant Singer hadn't been and she'd been at the office four times as long.
With Mac behind the Admiral's desk for the day, Bud and Harriet had made an attempt to prey upon her gentle goodwill toward them to discover clues in the Admiral's office as to why he needed to call this meeting tonight. Harm had called a few times during the early afternoon to find out why he was expected to haul ass from the Pentagon. A drive that really didn't take all that long and as such, Mac failed to understand the nature of his complaint. One of the benefits of sitting in the Admiral's chair, especially on a day where there were cases to be assigned. On those days, she got to torture Lieutenant Singer by assigning her low profile cases that involved a lot of tedious paperwork. Just for fun, she'd pull a set of transfer orders out of the Admiral's desk and consider using her temporary authority to transfer Lieutenant Singer to NAS Reykjavik. Obviously, because she didn't want the conversation with the Admiral as to why she transferred Singer to Iceland.
When the Admiral returned at 1600, Mac returned to her office and to her caseload. It seemed like with Harm out of JAG Ops, the headlining cases were harder to come by. Lately, it just seemed to be a lot of drunk and disorderlies on liberty, some UA sailors and a few adulterous Marines. Bud and Harriet had given up on searching the Admiral's office for clues and they had taken to slowly trying to work over Tiner but the Admiral seemed to have wisely kept his yeoman out of the loop on this one. The Gunny was feverishly working his sources throughout the District in an attempt to find out something about why they were all being summoned to the Admiral's office tonight.
Mac was convinced that this was why a secret Santa could never ever work in this office. She laughed to herself and went back to drafting a motion to dismiss for the Stenslund court martial. "Find anything, Bud?" Mac inquired without even looking up from her paperwork.
"No clues, ma'am." Bud shook his head as he took a seat opposite Mac.
"Why are you so quick to assume the worst, Bud?" Mac stopped working, dropped her pen and looked across the desk at Bud. "The doctor's appointment and the meeting tonight might not be related at all."
"You don't really believe that, ma'am?" Bud leaned forward in the chair.
"No, but it's just as likely as whatever conspiracy the rest of the office seems to believe." Mac went back to work.
The clock turned slowly toward 1815 local when everyone in the office who had been invited began to make their way to the Admiral's office door. "So, did anyone figure out what this is all about?" Harriet asked the assembled crowd.
"I turned up nothing." The Gunny shook his head.
"Nothing on my end." Bud added with a shrug.
"Guys, we're gonna find out in like ten seconds, I think we can all calm down." Harm directed the group. "As your senior officer, I can make that an order." The gang fell silent. They were joined later by the Admiral's in-laws and then when the clock hit 1820 local, the door to the Admiral's office opened.
"Come on in, everyone." The Admiral called from inside his office. Everyone walked in to find the Admiral standing there with his wife in his arms. The edginess of the staff was not necessarily soothed by this sight. "Well, I suppose you're all wondering why you're here."
"You could say that, sir." Mac spoke for the group.
"Sir, does this have something to do with your doctor's appointment today?" Bud stepped in with his question.
"Well, yes, Commander, it does." The Admiral grinned. "Seems there's been some sickness in my house of late. But I hear that it's normal and should clear up in a few months."
At this comment, Harriet started to grin. "Sir?" She questioned hopefully.
"We're expecting our firstborn." Beverley answered for the couple. "We wanted to tell you all at once. Because we didn't want anyone feeling left out."
"And because we wanted Mac and my parents to hear at the same time that if it's a boy, we've decided to name him Nathan." Beverley struggled to hold back tears as she addressed a room full of smiling faces.
2237 ZULU, FRIDAY
NCIS HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON NAVY YARD
Billy Ross strode into NCIS Headquarters with a bag over his shoulder and a tray of drinks in hand. "Gibbs!" He called as he walked into the squad room. "Got tickets tonight for the March Madness Navy – Pitt game at the Verizon Centre." He raised the tickets out of his jacket pocket. "Wasn't sure if you had a case but since I was in the neighbourhood getting a haircut and figured I could drop by. Stopped to get coffee." Billy placed the coffee on Gibbs' desk.
"Just finished a case, sounds like a good idea for tonight." Gibbs answered as he took the coffee. "You can't hang around up here for the next half hour though, go hang out with Abby down in the lab."
"Will do." Billy smiled and turned back toward the elevator. He stopped in front of Kate's desk. "Before I forget though." He reached into the bag and pulled out three green roses. He grinned, handed them to Kate and put on his best imitation of an Irish brogue. "A few Irish roses, for my favourite Irish rose." Billy winked at Kate. She had to smile and giggle a little at the gesture. Even Gibbs wore a concealed smile at that play. Billy headed for the elevator to go down to Abby's lab.
"A few Irish roses, for my favourite Irish rose." Tony stated mockingly. "Come on, what is that?"
"It's called charm, Tony, and thoughtfulness. Some men are capable of expressing an interest in a woman without resorting to cheesy pick up lines every time." Kate shot back at Tony. "Take McGee for instance."
"Okay, I may not be his biggest fan but don't insult the kid, Kate." Tony interjected. "McGee only wishes he could have game like that."
"Hey!" McGee protested. "I can be charming."
"Online doesn't count, Probie." Tony turned over his right shoulder.
"I've got a conference in MTAC." Gibbs got up from his desk. "By the time I come down. Your reports had better be done, or you won't be leaving tonight." Gibbs headed out of the squad room.
"You realize you're messing with the Gibbs-awan, right?" Tony whispered across to Kate.
"Gibbs-awan?" Kate questioned.
"Gibbs' Padawan." Tony explained. "Both drink the same coffee, get Marine regulation haircuts, even starting to dress alike. I think the kid even slapped me upside the head last time he was in here."
"You're exaggerating, Tony." Kate laughed and shook her head.
"I caught him checking out your ass last time he was in here, Kate." Tony commented.
"You do that everyday, DiNozzo." Kate tossed back. "All that shows is that the kid has good taste."
Billy got off the elevator outside Abby's lab and walked through the door. "What've we got, Abs?" He went into his best Gibbs impression.
"Your pitch is a little off again, Billy." Abby turned around and saw the teenager standing there. He walked toward her and handed her a Caf-Pow.
"Figured I'd save Gibbs a little money." He commented. "How's my favourite tattooed gal?"
"Got a new one on my ankle." Abby rolled down her sock.
"You are so cool, Abs." Billy smiled as he looked at the tattoo. "I want to get one after my next birthday but my mom would freak."
"What were you thinking about getting?" Abby asked as they went over and sat in front of her computer.
"Either the O'Connell Knight or the Naval Academy Ram." Billy pondered. "The rest of the guys on the football team got them after we won state this year but I couldn't go with them."
"Sucks." Abby stuck out her lower lip. There was silence for a few seconds until Abby's eyes lit up. "I've got most of the equipment down here to draw it on with ink, I'd have to improvise some stuff and it wouldn't be permanent but you could see how it looked."
"Really?" Billy's eyes lit up too. "You really are the best, Abs."
"I know." Abby grinned. "So, the Ram or the Knight?"
"Gibbs and I are headed off to watch Annapolis and Pitt tonight, so how about the Ram?" Billy questioned as he turned a chair around and sat in it.
"Where do you want the tatt?" Abby asked as she stood over him.
"Right shoulder blade." Billy looked over his shoulder. "Size is up to you, just not too big."
"Understood." Abby crouched down over his back. "Gonna have to lift your shirt, kiddo." Billy reached down and untucked the shirt from his jeans, pulling it over his head. Expecting to see a little baby fat, like the kind that he still had in his cheeks, Abby was surprised when he raised his shirt. This kid obviously hit the gym hard with the football team. His back was a quick indicator of that. She started drawing the outline of the Ram on his back using a stencil she'd printed off the Internet.
"I don't get it Abs, why can't the girls at school be like you...or Kate?" Billy asked as he felt the pen on his back
"Romantic trouble?" Abby asked.
"Three girlfriends in three months." Billy answered. "Starting to think DiNozzo is contagious."
Abby laughed. "Why do you have the hots for Kate, anyway?"
"I really don't know." Billy shook his head lightly.
"Stay still." Abby instructed.
"I mean, she's hot, that's obvious." Billy continued. "Maybe I think because I lack a challenging woman at school, I've gone in search of one I can't possibly get."
"Deep." Abby laughed again.
"Abigail!" Ducky regaled as he entered the lab. "What the devil?"
"Hey, Duck!" Billy called from the chair.
"Oh, young William." Ducky walked around the chair to face him. "How are we today?"
"Super, Duck." Billy grinned. "I really wanted to thank you for helping me study for that bio midterm."
"It was my pleasure." Ducky smiled fondly. "Took me back to my days at Eton, cramming for tests, sharing anecdotes with my colleagues into the wee hours of the morning."
"Yeah, well I tried to convince Gibbs that I should give you a bottle of Macallan as a thank you. But he refused to pick it up for me." Billy smiled at Ducky.
"Sounds like Jethro." Ducky chuckled.
"I hope my heartiest thanks will do. One Scotsman to another." Billy extended his left hand to shake Ducky's.
"Accepted." Ducky smiled as he shook Billy's hand. "Abby, what is all this?"
"I'm debuting as a tattoo artist, Ducky." Abby looked up from her work and smiled. "You can be next if you want?"
"I think I shall pass." Ducky took a seat.
"I think I've hit a snag." Abby tapped Billy on his left shoulder. "I'm no good at faces and there's a lot of sharp angles on the Annapolis Ram."
"You know Abby, we have an artist in the building with a particular knack for visages." Ducky pondered aloud.
"Who?" Abby wondered. "Oh, right." She got up and walked over to the phone. "Kate, we need a person of your talents down in the lab." She walked back over.
"Kate's a sketch artist?" Billy questioned.
"Yup. "Abby nodded.
"But does she have any experience with tattoos?" Billy challenged.
"She has one." Abby retorted ."But I'm not gonna tell you where it is. So don't ask."
"It's on her butt." Billy stated simply.
"How did you..." Abby was aghast.
"Kate's an Irish Catholic but she went through a rebellious phase. Where else would it be?" Billy looked over his left shoulder and grinned.
"You have to play poker with Gibbs and I." Abby shook her head.
"Abby, what's up?" Kate walked into the lab.
"Yeah, Abs, what's up?" DiNozzo followed Kate into the lab.
"Kate, I need you to draw the face to complete the ram." Abby handed the stencil and pen to Kate. She then pointed at the mostly complete drawing on the teenager's back.
"Well, this is a new one." Kate took a seat where Abby had been. She put one soft steadying hand on to his back and started to draw using the stencil. Billy was trying really hard to fight certain biological reactions which boys his age were prone to in situations like this. Kate focused really hard, trying to get the horns and snout of the ram just perfect.
"Tattoos are so bad ass." Tony commented as he watched Kate work. "Didn't want to get the real thing?" He shouted for the teenager.
"Didn't want to incur my mother's wrath." Billy answered.
"Huh." Tony fixed a curious expression on his face. "Maybe you are a bit like McGeek."
"Done." Kate got up from her seat.
"You can't cover it for a few minutes though." Abby counseled. Billy had successfully fought his own biology and looked back over his shoulder at Abby.
"Can I at least get up?" He asked.
"Oh yeah, sure." Abby nodded. Billy got up and turned around to look at Tony.
"Calling my manhood into question?" Billy smiled sarcastically.
"Just saying, real Marines get the real thing." Tony commented.
"Bet I can do more push ups than you can, DiNozzo." Billy stepped forward.
"You're on." Tony accepted the challenge. Billy chuckled, slid his shirt off his forearms and tossed it into the chair where he'd been sitting.
"Boys," Kate stepped between them. "If you really want to determine whose is bigger, there's a mens room."
"Want to count us off, Abby?" Tony looked to the forensic tech.
"Sure." Abby nodded with a laugh. Kate stepped to the side and stood with Ducky. Billy and Tony assumed the position on the floor and began to count off.
"Why are they doing this, Ducky?" Kate asked.
"Simple, my dear." Ducky explained. "It's an evolutionary reaction to a new male entering the ecosystem. Tony feels that his place in the tribe may be usurped by a younger, stronger male and as such, must assert his dominance."
"They're both Neanderthals." Kate shook her head.
"What are we at, Abs?" Billy questioned a few minutes later.
"Both at 67." Abby told them.
"There'd better be a really good reason for all this grab-assing." Gibbs walked into the lab and both of the guys shot to their feet. "Well?"
"Letting the ink dry on my tatt." Billy answered first.
"Uh huh." Gibbs nodded disbelievingly "Kate, DiNozzo, get your reports done?"
"Yes." Kate answered.
"See, boss." Tony started.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Gibbs took a sip of his coffee. "You." He pointed at Billy. "Get your shirt on if you still want to make the game." Then he turned on Tony. "I'd order Chinese food if I were you."
"Why's that, boss?" Tony was suddenly worried.
"Because after the game, I'm gonna check in back here and if you're not still here working on your after action report. You will be assigned head cleaning duties for the next week." Gibbs' stoic expression struck fear into the core of Tony's being.
"Understood, Boss." Tony gulped.
"Good." Gibbs carried a small grin. He looked over and saw Billy was ready to go. "Well, come on, don't just stand there." He encouraged the teenager who jogged toward the door. Tony was the next to leave and after him Ducky until only Kate and Abby were left standing in the lab.
"I really love working here some days." Abby laughed. "I was kind of hoping Gibbs would put the two of them in the ring."
"Maybe next weekend." Kate laughed. She took a seat. "I don't remember boys looking like that when I was in high school."
"They don't, mostly." Abby shrugged. "Most are still awkward, geeky, pimply faced nerds with more interest in their computers or their...equipment."
"So how are we accounting for him?" Kate pointed at the door.
"Genetic anomaly." Abby answered simply. "So, you're saying that if you were in high school..."
"If I went to high school with a tall, Catholic, US Army All American on track to become star recruit at the Naval Academy, my dad wouldn't let me date anyone else." Kate laughed. "So, why's he after me?"
"What makes you think he told me anything?" Abby asked with her best innocent look. Kate gave her best impression of the Gibbs glare. "He wants a challenge. Knows he can't get you, but thinks the girls at school aren't challenging enough. Only get better by playing tougher competition."
Kate just shook her head and smiled. "With that analogy, maybe DiNozzo is contagious."