Aug 25
An old doting fool, with one foot already in the grave.
Plutarch (46 AD - 120 AD), Morals
Tony DiNozzo skipped merrily through the cemetery. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Even his little ninja was silent, enjoying the day.
While he was prepared to enjoy the day, he was not looking forward to nightfall. Gibbs' gut said Corporal Russell was not in fact buried in his coffin, but whether that was because someone had stolen the body or simply misplaced it had yet to be determined. Nevertheless, the boss needed to prove it was missing before he could get a warrant to dig the grave up.
Which meant he, Ziva and McGee would be doing the manual labor tonight while the Boss held the flashlight. Not that he was complaining at Gibbs' apparent easy job – he would also be on guard to prevent them getting shot for trespassing. And lugging the equipment around was hard work and would warm them up, while el jefe would freeze to death standing still.
In order to prevent them from getting lost in the dark, Gibbs had sent them on ahead to locate the correct grave in the daylight, while he and McGoo made a last ditch attempt to persuade Jenny to persuade someone to allow them to dig up the coffin rather than wasting time with the ground penetrating radar. Tony doubted this would work, but it was worth a try, especially if it meant he could spend the night in his warm bed –
The ground disappeared beneath him and he fell.
Thankfully not as far as he had feared, but it had given him the shock of his life. His sadistic partner was laughing her head off on the surface.
Immediately checking the open grave for a coffin and relaxing when he realized he was not sharing with a dead person, he began to glare at her.
"Get me out of here!" he demanded.
She giggled some more. "You should have watched where you were going."
"Very funny," he snapped. "Go find a ladder."