Disclaimer: Yeah, not owned by me.
Michael Westen was working hard to keep his face calm and impassive. Most people would assume that his internal nerves were from the height he was standing at. He was, after all, on the rooftop of a very tall warehouse building in a mostly abandoned part of D.C. The only thing was that Michael was not, nor had he ever been, afraid of heights.
The real reason for the slight twisty feeling in his gut was that there were at least a few dozen snipers aiming at him and only eight of them were actually on his side, and he had given one of them explicit instructions to shoot him. And, it didn't exactly warm the cockles of his heart to know that four to five of the ones he trusted were probably considering just shooting him on principle.
He looked down at the tiny detonator in his palm. He examined the tiny switch on the top. This particular detonator wasn't attached to any explosives, but just because it wasn't attached to any explosives didn't mean there weren't any. He just wasn't holding the detonator, Fiona was.
"Just in case." That's what he had told her. The truth though was that he was pretty much sick of the whole mess with Larry and Chechik and he was taking every possible measure to be sure that this finished.
"You okay down there Westen?" agent Gibbs asked through the ear piece.
"Yeah I'm good," Michael replied.
"Good. Now stop pacing around down there before I decide to just shoot you," he ordered.
Michael stopped moving and performed a check in. "How are the surrounding buildings looking?"
He was greeted with the sounds of grunts and whacks sounding over the line before Ziva replied, "Under control."
Michael debated asking a question about what had just happened, but then decided it didn't matter as long as the building was clear.
All Michael could do now was wait. He didn't even turn around when the door to the roof swung open with a bang. His only reaction was to tighten the muscles in his back and arms.
"Kid! How the hell are you sport?" Came the cheery maniacal voice of Larry Siezmore.
"Larry," Michael acknowledged turning slowly to meet his former mentor's gaze. "I'd be a whole lot better if I hadn't just inherited a nephew, thanks so much for that little gift."
"Yeah sorry about little Ruthy but I had to find some way to get your attention. How is little Charlie by the way he looked like such a cute kid." Larry said with a grin.
"He's fine," Michael answered. "He's started calling me daddy."
"Hey what about that," Larry said spreading his hands in a voilà gesture. "Guess I just gave you a kick start on a family sport. I guess I should have brought you some nice balloons."
"Next time I guess," Michael bit out.
Larry shrugged. "You wouldn't have had time to enjoy them anyway. It really is to bad that I have to kill you so soon we were just catching up."
"Yeah it sure is a shame. Now speaking of people who want me dead, where is my good friend Chechik?"
"Have you been missing me Michael?" Came Chechik's voice seconds before the man himself appeared on the rooftop.
"Chechik nice to see you. Have you been getting enough iron you look kind of pale?" Michael quipped.
Booth couldn't help but chuckle despite the serious nature of the situation. He adjusted his aim on the rifle so that it was pointed at just the right spot on Michael's body. Any minute now...
"Oh Westen how I cannot wait to pick through that brain of yours before I cut it off of you." Chechik threatened.
"Oooo," Michael said with mock concern as he took a tiny step back. "One wants to shoot me the other wants information. Looks like you guys are going to need to learn about the art of sharing."
"Well there's no reason our little Russian friend can't torture you for information before I shoot you," Larry said reasonably.
"Oh come on Larry we both no you aren't that patient besides," Michael said, taking another step backwards. Right into the cross hairs of Booth's sniper rifle. "Somebody else just beet you to it."
Booth took that for his que, and without thinking twice, he pulled the trigger. There was a muffled pop as the shell left the gun but Booth didn't wait to see if the bullet had done its job. He already knew it had hit its target.
He broke down his rifle with easy, practiced speed and dropped it into a black duffle bag. He swung the bag over his shoulder. "Time to go guys," he said over his com's unit.
"Yeah," Tony agreed. "We have some crazy guys to arrest for multiple homicide."
Down on the roof Larry and Chechik rushed towards Michael's supposedly dead body. They had heard the shot fired. They had seen the blood spurt from the shot but they both wanted conformation that Michael was actually dead.
Larry kicked Michael over so that he was facing upwards and had to admit that it was pretty convincing. Michael wasn't breathing and there was blood spattered across his shoulder, chest, and face. There was even some glugging from a space just above his clavicle were the shot must have hit.
Chechik leaned down and caught some of the blood on his fingers. He sniffed it and turned to Larry. "It is real. Westen is dead."
Larry leaned down closer. "I still have to check. I'll take the kid's pulse." His fingers closed around Michael's wrist and felt for the tiny beat of a pulse. Before he could ever find it, Michael's hand spun and grabbed around Larry's wrist.
Michael bent Larry's wrist all the way back and twisted with all of his power. He felt the sickening snap of the bone and then launched the heel of his hand upward into his nose. Then he rolled quickly, grabbing Larry's gun as he went and the bullet that Chechik had fired missed by a matter of inches. He kicked Chechiks feet out from under him and stood up holding the gun in his hands. It was loaded, safety off, ready to kill.
"Larry, Chechik, enjoy prison. If your good I might bring you some nice balloons," he said panting slightly.
"You can't arrest us Kid you're not a cop," Larry protested through the blood pouring from his nose.
"Oh I know I can't," Michael said. He pointed towards the door that had just swung open to show Booth, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and McGee, all with guns pointed and badges showing. "Agent Gibbs, Agent Booth, they're all yours."
When the agents drew level with him he popped the bullets out of the gun his hands shaking slightly and backed up. Michael looked down and examined the blood pooling under his shirt. "Once your done with that, do you think you could get one of those doctors you work with to stitch this? Maybe get me some ibuprofen?"
Fiona and Sam ran up to him and slipped under his arms to help support his weight. Fiona examined the wound and found that it didn't really match the shape of a gunshot. "Michael what did you do?" she asked. She was barely keeping the fury out of her voice.
"It's not deep Fi. Nothing a couple of stitches and some medical tape won't solve." Michael assured her.
"Jesus Mike!" Jesse exclaimed. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"
"Larry wasn't just going to buy some exploding blood along with a shot. There needed to be some blood actually coming from me." Michael stopped to catch a breath. "So, I cut open the old gun shot wound from that time when Jesse shot me. When I fell I pulled off the bandage."
Fiona smacked Michael across the face and then kissed him before she, Sam, and Jesse helped him away towards were Cam and Ducky were waiting to patch him up.
Gibbs chuckled and then turned towards Tony. "Tony what's rule 12."
"Never ever date a coworker," Tony said without missing a beat.
"Right," Gibbs looked from Tony to Ziva. "And what's rule 63?"
Tony was even more confused now, "Rule 63?"
Gibbs smiled. "Sometimes your wrong." He watched Tony's incredulous expression for a moment before turning and starting to walk away.
"What are you saying Gibbs?" Ziva asked.
Gibbs called over his shoulder to answer. "I'm telling DiNozzo to get his head on straight before I have to come back there and slap it that way."
"Got it Boss!" Tony called with a happy grin.
"What did you get?" Ziva was still confused.
Tony just kissed her for a response. When he pulled away and wasn't slapped he asked, "Ziva, have you ever seen Casa Blanca?"
"No," Ziva replied.
"You will," he stated. "Some time soon I will make McGee rent M-Tac and we will watch Casa Blanca with popcorn.
Ziva smiled, "Okay."
And with that they helped Booth loud Larry and Chechik into the FBI van.
A/N: How was that for a nice little end of Larry and Chechik? And I have accomplished mission Tiva. See Don? It wasn't that painful. Anyway, review for me! I think that there will be one more chapter, but if people want, this can be the end.