"Don't. Move!"

"What?" Tim asks reflexively, his confusion honest as the gruff, masculine voice comes at him from out of the blue.

"I. Said. Don't. Move!" The voice repeats itself as two beefy hands once again manhandle him, pushing him even further into the car. "Do exactly as I say and you won't get hurt. Capice?"

"Yeah." Tim mutters.

"Good. Now pick up all this crap!"

Tim moves to do just that, but finds his movements stilted by the gun that stays jammed in his back. Carefully, he reaches for the things he's dropped and begins to put them back into the bags. It takes him a good five minutes and surprisingly enough the man behind the gun says nothing else as he works. When he's gathered the last of the items, he's directed to put the bags into his car as he'd been about to do before he'd been accosted. The last of the bags stowed away into his car, he closes the door and breathes out. Now what?

Almost as if answering the question, the man behind the gun shoves it into his back again, this time, issuing a new order. "Hands behind your back. NOW!"

With the gun in his back where he can't do anything but comply without risking getting a bullet lodged in his spine, Tim complies, throwing in enough common sense to keep his mouth shut for now. Suddenly, his hands are handcuffed behind his back and in very short order, his world goes dark when what feels like a pillowcase is shoved down over his head. It's suffocating and he has trouble regulating his breathing through it but that's where he concentrates his efforts.

Right now, he's mentally cursing the fact that he's no longer a field agent who would have been prepared for this. As it is, he's got no weapon and no options. No sooner does his thought process hit on that truth than he begins to feel dizzy, as he's s spun around and something that feels like a large pair of headphones is shoved down on top of his ears, blocking out all sounds.

He's not surprised when he's hustled into a vehicle, although he has no idea what kind or color. It is clear that it's close by as Tim's count only goes up to fifteen on their steps from his car before it happens. He frowns because that means the car was parked far enough away from his own that he wouldn't have noticed it. When his head is shoved down enough that the rest of his body is manhandled into the vehicle, he sighs. As soon as he feels the whoosh of air from the shutting the car door, he lets his mind begin to process through the questions. If they wanted to kill him, he'd be dead already. Hell, they aren't even trying to hurt him. Whatever this is about doesn't involve physical violence beyond threatening him with the gun. So, what the hell is this about then?

******NCIS******

Practically humming with happiness as the end of the day hits at long last, Gibbs does his best to appear his usually grouchy self when he growls out the words his team needs to hear. "Pack it in!"

Instantly, two heads snap up from their work - or in today's case, the perusal of the personnel files they're still sorting through. It's a tough job and they're making it even tougher on themselves to make sure they find the right person for the job. Even Gibbs hasn't said anymore about them taking their time on it.

Glancing at his watch, Tony grins as he gets to his feet, stowing the files in his desk drawer and locking it as he shuts down his workstation. "Early night, huh, Boss?"

"Damn near six-fifteen, DiNozzo. How much later do ya wanna stay?" Gibbs growls with genuine irritation. That crack sounded awfully close to his Senior Field Agent crossing that line again and so soon after their conversation, too. The older man's not happy about it but his anger is soon diluted with his agent's next words.

"Huh? Wow, it is, isn't it? Sorry, Boss. I didn't realize it was that late. Night!" Tony's surprise is genuine as he quickly heads to the elevator, swiftly joined by Ziva who's lost no time in catching up to him.

"Get some rest! Both of ya's!" Gibbs hollers out as his agents reach the elevator. He's satisfied when they throw their chorus of answers back to him.

"Yes, Boss!"
"Yes, Gibbs!"

With a huff of laughter, Gibbs gets to his feet and closes down his own workstation. He knows he's not wanted home until exactly seven on the dot. If he shows up too early, it will ruin all Tim's hard work and planning and he doesn't want to do that. It only takes him ten minutes to clear the Navy Yard gate and get home so he's got at least 15 minutes to kill. He's ready to talk to Abby now. Forget putting it off until tomorrow. Hell, he should have talked to her already!

********NCIS*********

Although unable to hear or see anything Tim mentally tracks the length of the car ride and isn't really surprised to find that's less than thirty minutes long In short order, he's forcibly taken from the car and escorted somewhere that is exactly thirty foot-steps from the vehicle. Suddenly, he's shoved into a chair, his handcuffed hands handcuffed to something that feels like a chair leg and then, he's left alone. No one touches him; no one removes the things over his ears or the pillowcase from his head. He's a prisoner, with nothing to do but think.

********NCIS*********

Abby's nervous now, more so than earlier in the day when she'd narrowly escaped from Ziva, not once, but twice. That second time the Israeli woman had tried to talk to her had been a close call, barely realizing she'd been about to have company in her lab before escaping from it to disappear into the supply closet until the coast was clear. Not normally skittish or even remotely chicken about talking to people today just hasn't been a good day for that.

Her heart's been pounding in her chest all day, as if she were doing something really, really wrong here. But, she's not! She's merely helping a friend see the light and she's not even directly doing that much! The day has dragged on mercilessly though, and it's been just her luck that there've been no fresh case for her to sink her forensic teeth into. Glancing at the clock, she frowns. It's only 6:15. She's still got at least 45 minutes before she can go.

"Abby."

Startled because she hadn't heard the elevator ding or the stairwell door open and close, she spins around, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Gibbs! You startled me!"

"Got somethin' to say to me?" The Silver-haired man asks quietly as he steps into her space.

"What? NO!" She vehemently denies, her child-like pigtails swinging wildly as she shakes her head.

"Ducky seems to think ya do. Any idea why he'd think that?"

"I might have called him the other night." She hedges nervously.

"Abby! Didcha call him or not?"

"Yes! All right? Yes, I called him, Gibbs! I love both of you and I wanted to help fix this mess! So I called him for help."

"DON'T say another word!" Gibbs warns her with deceptive calm and quiet. "It's none of your business. Are we clear?"

"Yes." She mumbles reluctantly.

"Do I even have to ask how you know whatever it is that you know?" He asks with more than a touch of anger. The last thing he or Tim wanted was for this to happen. Now all he can do is work to contain it.

"I saw you."

"Go on."

"At the restaurant."

"When the team went to dinner."

"With Timmy!"

"You mean Tim." The Team Leader who definitely doesn't want to hear her refer to the competent, grown agent who has become his lover with that belittling nickname again, corrects her.

"What?" Abby asks in confusion. Staring at the man who's simply staring back at her, waiting for her to get what he's trying to say, she finally gives up the fight "Yes!"

"And from that you got..."

"Lip reading, Gibbs! Body Language!" Abby reminds him with sharp angry words now.

Gibbs mentally sighs. Thought we were being watched! Wouldn't have thought it would be Abby. Great. Just great. My lab rat's turned spy! Outwardly, he frowns as he addresses the issue. "So, you're spying on us, now? There a reason you didn't just join us?"

"I wasn't invited!" She hotly reminds him.

"Doesn't mean we wouldn't have let you join us, Abigail." He corrects her, knowing that by him using her full first name, she'll know he's utterly disappointed in her.

"Don't call me that, Gibbs!" She snaps off on him. This is not going well, at all

"Watch it," He warns her quietly.

"What do you want from me, Gibbs?" She demands angrily. She knows she's pushing his buttons right now but she also knows he usually caves in when she's angry and trying to call the shots. What he says next, in a voice that so low, only she can hear it, shocks the hell out of her.

"You to keep you nose out of it. And your mouth shut"

"Giiibbs." She whines

"Abby." He silences her with a glare. "Don't make me repeat myself." He turns to walk out, needing to get home to his dinner date.

"Where are you going? We're not done talking!" She complains loudly.

He stops, turns back to her and retraces his steps to quietly answer her in hopes it will shut her down. "Yes we are."

"We need to talk about this Gibbs!" Suddenly she stands to her feet and storms into her inner office, her arms crossed against her chest in open defiance.

Shaking his head at her attitude, he slips away as silently as he'd appeared.

Snatching up the remote control to her door, Abby whips around, her finger already on the button to lock them in. Her mouth dropping in shock, she realizes that she's come up with empty air in the space where she fully expected her Silver-haired fox to have followed her to. Seriously? How rude can he be?

Unexpectedly, her cell phone rings, causing her to hurry to answer it. She picks it up and snaps it open, not really surprised that he's calling her so soon after leaving her lab. "Gibbs, I..."

"Make things right with Ducky, Abby. Now." *click*

********NCIS*********

Angry and disappointed, Gibbs puts his phone away and sighs. Okay. Enough of this. Tonight belongs to Tim and the younger man's efforts to do something nice for him. Not sure why he feels the need to go through the trouble, but because he is doing just that, Leroy's not about to spoil it by being late. Tim gets such obvious joy out of doing nice things for him, that he rarely finds the ability to say no to him. Right this minute, he's thankful that this was one of those times he readily agreed to the younger man's plans. Glancing at his watch, he smirks. Just enough time to be on time.

********NCIS*********

Tim's lost all sense of time. He can't hear anything and he can't see anything. But, he knows when he's no longer alone, wherever he is seconds before his ears are freed from the contraption that had been covering them and his hands are un-cuffed from whatever they'd been locked down to. Unceremoniously, he's hauled to his feet and propelled forward, 100 steps, turned to the left, the air around him filled with a cacophony of noise he can't make sense of at first. He hears catcalls, wolf whistles and lots of indistinct noises as twenty feet later; he's shoved down into a chair, his hands this time, handcuffed in his lap, a cloth napkin tossed over them as if trying to hide them.

With the gun shoved into his back again, comes another quietly yet firmly given order. "Don't make a scene and don't even try to get up!"

"Yeah! Shake it, Baby! Show me whatcha got!" The excited catcall of a man standing not even twenty feet from where he's sitting fills in the missing piece of the puzzle for Tim, even as the hood is finally removed from behind him. He's not at all surprised to find that when he whips his head around to look, there's no one there.

"Woo hoo, Baby! Shake it! C'mon, over here, sugar! Lemme show you how much I appreciate you shakin' that gorgeousness for me!"

Before he can blink, the room goes dark. Suddenly, that voice is back in his ear. "Oh, I almost forgot. You can touch, all you want. After all, this little party's for your benefit and it would be extremely rude of you not to. Matter of fact, any of these little honey's you want - just say the word and they're yours for the night! Hell, you don't even have to get up out outta that chair - you can take 'em right there if ya want to! Hahaha."

Tim sees red. Anger begins to boil from within, so hot he can't even think straight. He's been kidnapped - just to be taken to a damned strip club! Seriously? Who the hell would disrespect him like this? Anyone he calls a friend knows him enough to know that he would NEVER consider coming to a place like this! And anyone he considers his friend also keeps thier nose out of his personal business. Yet, this stinks of personal.

He knows that bozo that took him is just the hired help So who the hell does he know that would be behind this?

*******NCIS******

Leroy arrives at the house at 6:58. What he sees there causes him to frown. The house is dark. What he doesn't see causes him to whip out his phone and begin calling people. Tim's car's not here. There's no sign of movement inside and there's not a single light on. The first call rings on and on until it goes to voicemail. That's a good sign. It's a damned sight better than going straight to voicemail, which would mean Tim's in trouble. "Tim, where are you? Need you to call me, let me know you're ok"

When five minutes finally pass by without any return call from Tim, Leroy's done waiting. This feels wrong. Something's happened to the young man and he's not waiting around any longer while whatever's going on keeps happening. Snapping his phone open again, he hits another number.

"DiNozzo"

"Need you to meet me on the yard. Now. Bring Ziva"

"Boss? What's wrong?"

"Tim's missing."

"We're on our way. Where was he supposed to be?"

"My house."

"Boss, maybe..."

"He was cooking me dinner. Supposed to be at seven. The house is dark and his car's not here."

"Yeah. This is definitely not good. No way in hell, Probie'd let you down like this! You got Abby tracking his cell?

"Get on it when you get in, Tony."

"Boss, Abby's be..."

"Can't call on her for this, DiNozzo. Just get there!"

"Be there in ten, Boss. Don't worry. We'll find him!"

"Appreciate it, Tony." Snapping his phone shut, he practically throws himself back into his car and peels out, desperate to get to the office where they have resources. Hang on Tim. I'm comin', Love.

*******NCIS******

Abby is finally relaxing when she walks into the place. She's waited all day for this and as she spies her best friend sitting front and center with a string of beautiful women parading nakedly across the stage each one stopping to tantalizingly gyrate in front of him, their hands molesting themselves for his benefit, she almost giggles. Oh, yeah, This will set him straight all right!

Glancing around, she spies Kenny who'd successfully pulled this off for her. "Thank you! You're awesome!" She gushes as she hugs him.

"You owe me, Abby."

"Aw. You know this just makes us even."

"No! You didn't tell me he was a federal agent!" Kenny angrily reminds her.

"What does that matter? She asks in confusion. "You asked him to come. He came."

He's looking at her like she's from another planet. "Are you really that stupid? Do you really think he came here of his own free will? Even you said 'whatever it takes' remember? You do remember that right? Because that's how I got him here!"

"What are you talking about, Kenny? Abby asks now, her stomach doing flip-flops nervously.

"You said 'whatever it takes'." Her partner in crime reminds her yet again

"I know I did. But what do you mean 'that's how you got him here'?"

"You think he's sitting there willingly, Abby? Do you? Really?"

Abby begins to mentally put the pieces together as she watches two naked women take turns sitting on Tim's lap, his hands not moving from behind his head. Why do his hands look like they're bound together?

As she watches, the fun she imagined she'd have as her friend was reminded of the straight path, quickly fades as the anger on his face grows more and more obvious. When the first disgruntled girl gives up, angrily speaking to Tim as she gets off his lap, Abby can clearly see that his libido is working just fine. His hands, however are not. Is that what pissed the girl off, or is it Tim's obvious lack of interest in her?

What the hell's wrong with his hands? Her friend's freaking out because Tim's a federal agent? The only reason he'd have reason to worry about that is if he'd..."Oh my God, what did you do to him, Kenny?"

*******NCIS**********

Storming through the building, Gibbs hauls himself up the stairwell to the squad room, too impatient to wait on the elevator. Too upset and worried for coffee as he boots up his workstation, he's relieved as hell when his two agents come off the elevator a short time after his arrival, bearing a multitude of hot drinks on several trays. Even they know it's gonna be a rough night until they find Tim. Nodding his thanks, he returns his attention to his computer as he searches for an email from Tim that he might have missed

Silently handing the boss a coffee, Tony goes right to work, booting up his computer while Ziva does the same.

"Gibbs!"

The unexpected holler from his boss has Gibbs' stomach dropping to his toes. Looking up, he finds the man gesturing for him to join him in MTAC. Damn it, that's not a good sign. Nodding, he turns to move, "C'mon" He orders over his shoulder.

Practically running, the trio is standing in front of the Director in short order. Not surprised, the man simply lets the eye scanner do its' thing and leads them all into the room, walking directly to the big screen as he speaks. "This was sent to us not fifteen minutes ago by a concerned Wal-Mart Manager."

With nothing further being said, live video feed is suddenly playing on the big screen - showing in fine detail - the kidnapping at gunpoint of one Timothy McGee.