A/N: As usual, thanks go to Faldo for her work as Beta in wrestling with my punctuation. I love my Betas and they are definitely the unsung heroes in the rodeo. And speaking of credit where credit is due - I need to apologise for forgetting in the last chapter to acknowledge Arress for her observation in Legends that there was no need for Rivkin to let the cat out of the bag about Ziva knowing him. So while the observation about the laptop being a set up with Ziva's address was mine, I can't take credit for the former. This came up during a deconstruction of the episode some time ago - something we do rather a lot -we bounce ideas off each other. I'm glad people enjoyed our analysis of what I must agree with one reviewer, was a very badly conceived story arc. Thank you to everyone who left reviews - glad you are enjoying bad ass Tony as much as I am.

Finally, this chapter is a little shorter than the last few. They were getting increasingly long and I had to rein myself in before I went overboard. I blame it on my other story - An Eye for an Eye since they have been getting steadily longer too as I try to close it out too. Don't worry - I have another chapter of Rising that will be ready in the next few days.

Chapter 37

Jessie climbed out of her ford Tahoe, stiff and a little sore after making the drive back from Vermont after the long one the day before. She needed to go for a long run to stretch out and work out all the kinks in her muscles. As Jimmy Palmer exited the passenger seat, his glasses awry on his nose and his hair sticking up riotously, she grinned at him affectionately. He'd fallen asleep the last hour into their journey and she'd brought him back home rather than drop him off to spend the night on his own.

She knew how affected he was by meeting the former physician, Jonathon Stevenson and seeing all the evidence of his betrayal of Tony as a small boy laid out like that. She felt the same way too after coming face to face with a corrupt cop and Tony was the same. He'd told her that Gibbs became absolutely feral when he found Marines that betrayed the Corps. So it wasn't exactly surprising that Jimmy was having a hard time dealing with Senior's paid flunkey physician, since he was still so young and idealistic and hadn't even qualified as a doctor yet. It must seem a terrible betrayal of Stevenson's Hippocratic Oath.

Apart from which, even as a veteran cop, she'd seen her fair share of horrific stuff to do with women and children but somehow it hit home much harder when it was someone she knew well. The fact that she was aware just how deeply the damage done had affected Tony and how much she'd had longed to kick the stuffing out of the slimy weasel and couldn't, hadn't help her mood at all. Undoubtedly, Palmer felt the same way too.

That being the case, Jessie figured that she should bring the kid back with her so he didn't spend the night alone. Hot food and good company seemed a sensible prescription for what was ailing the Gremlin and she had to admit that she could do with a dose or two of a home-cooked meal and hugs from a certain ten year old. Weird how she had a queen sized bed to herself last night and no Tia waking with nightmares so she should have slept like the dead but she was lonely in the bed all alone and slept poorly. Jeeze Louise, that was so not fair!

Anyway, since there was plenty of spare beds, Jimmy could stay the night and go home tomorrow. She was pretty sure that Tone and Tia would be thrilled to have Jimmy stay over. Much as he loved females she thought Tone was sometimes overwhelmed by all the oestrogen. As Palmer stumbled out of the Tahoe, yawning and stretching, she rounded the vehicle and threaded her arm through his.

"Come on Jimbo. Let's go find out what's for dinner, then you can bunk down with us. I don't think that either of us should be alone tonight."

Before he could answer, his stomach growled and she chuckled. Looking highly embarrassed he flushed which Jessie thought was very cute.

"Um okay, as long as I'm not going to be a PIB."

"PIB?" Jessie queried, bemused.

"Pain in the butt," Jimmy supplied, embarrassed.

"Oh no, Jimmy-boy you could never be a pain in the butt. This place is so big and the three of us, sometimes four when Megan is with us, rattle around and get lost in it. We'll enjoy your company."

He smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Come on, get that annoying butt in here," she ordered teasingly as she wandered into the house, dropping off her keys and other stuff on a hall table.

Making her way out she could hear sounds of hilarity coming from the kitchen. Jimmy followed like a loyal puppy. They both stopped short, staring in shock when they found Tony and Tia – partners in crime. Both were a mess, covered in a white powder-like substance, although Tony's was mostly on his hands and smeared across his face – a little on his T-shirt. Tia had somehow managed to get it over her jeans, top and in her hair as well as her hands and face and spread it all over the floor and her work space too.

Jessie could hear Tony demonstrating to Tia how to do something to what looked like some sort of pasta that was lying in ropes on the floured workbench. He was cutting them into bite sized pieces before attacking them with a fork, his daughter watched intently. On a second surface, she could see bread that was being kneaded, lying ignored while the pair attended to the small white pieces of pasta. Looking up, Tia squealed and came running to hug the new arrivals.

"Jessie, Jimmy you're back! I missed you and I was worried about you driving all that way. We're making dinner and we've got the bestest, most wonderful news. Momma's waking up and she squeezed my hand and she talked today." She spilled her exciting news immediately. "I wanted to call you on your cell phone and tell you right away but Daddy said to wait and tell you when you got home again cuz you were driving. He said we would have a special dinner to celebrate and so I'm making notties and he made homemade yummy bread and we'll sprinkle poppy seeds and sunflower seeds and sesame seeds on top."

Jessie looked sharply at Tony. She knew he made bread when he needed to relieve frustration and couldn't attack a bag in the gym. He said it was healthier than shutting himself away in his study and drinking McClellan which she gathered is what his father used to do – before moving on the using him as stress relief. Wondering if the bread making was related to Mel or the other business they'd talked about last night, she could see definite signs of strain and worry in his eyes.

Smiling at her and Tia he replied, "You're making gnocchi Tia and why don't you let them get inside the door before you blab all your news. They probably need to go to the bathroom and even if they didn't before, now you've hugged them, they do," he teased her.

"Oh yeah, gnocchi. They're not exactly pasta – they're dumplings made with potatoes. So we cooked the potatoes with their coats on. Did you know that it's much easier to peel them when they're cooked? But you gotta wait til they cool. And then we put them through a ricer that turned them into potato worms – it was cool."

Jimmy chuckled. "So how did you end up getting flour from one end of the kitchen to the other Miss? It's in your hair and even in your eyebrows."

Tia grinned. "Simple! I had to work four egg yolks and a cup of parmesan cheese and two cups of flour into the potatoes to make a dough and it was messy," she explained seriously, unconscious of the degree of understatement in that remark. "Then I had to roll them into snakes on a floured board and well it just got everywhere," she finished airily.

Jessie was desperate to get an update on Mel but needed to empty her bladder pretty urgently. She was also aware that Tony was troubled and decided to have the conversation sans her god daughter so she opted to head to the bathroom. She told Jimmy to take one of the guest bedrooms that had an en suite and jump into the shower before heading upstairs to retrieve fresh towels for them both. By the time that she returned, Tony had sent Tia up to take a bath, the bread was proofing and he was tackling the mess in the kitchen. Jess grabbed the broom and helped put the place to rights – since as a neat freak she knew that she couldn't relax until the place was clean.

As they worked together Tony gave her a quick rundown on everything that had happened that day. They'd spoken only briefly last night because he'd been at the hospital until quite late with Mel after her generalised seizure and then the whole business with Gibbs and Rivkin when they were brought in by the EMTs. Since he had been involved in the decision to question Ziva based upon evidence, he'd had to provide a statement for Fornell, so he'd been in a hurry by the time they caught up. He'd needed to get back home to Tia, who had been becoming anxious. As he explained what had happened during their visit with Mel she watched his furrowed forehead.

"What's wrong, Tone? I thought you'd be over the moon."

"It's not that I'm not pleased, Jess. I guess I just wish that it hadn't happened when Tia was there. She got so excited of course but what if this is it? We both know that Mel might not make any more progress than this and she'll be disappointed. I just don't want her to be hurt anymore and yet I can't protect her, plus I'm worried about the seizures. They give her drugs to fix one problem and it causes another damned one. Where does it end?"

Jessie looked at him, wondering what had happened to have him in such a funk. "So what happened with Gibbs?"

"First tell me you've got some good news?" he pleaded, morosely.

Okay something bad must have happened. She smiled and said, "I've got some good news, T. The Prince took the bait. I think this is going to work."

"Who took the bait, Jessie?" Tia wanted to know, having managed to sneak up on them without either of them hearing her come downstairs.

Looking at her god daughter whose interrogatory expression was so much like her father that Jessie couldn't help grinning. That was despite the fact she'd been crept up on by a ten year old.

"Hey Tia, you remember I told you we were going to see a man about helping us to keep you safe and he is going to be helping us now. So I'm really happy" she explained casually. "By the way, Sweetie, on my bed is a bag. I bought you a present."

"But it's not my birthday."

"I know, but I'm your godmother. It's my job to spoil you sometimes. Now go and get it," Jessie instructed.

Watching an excited Tia bounce up the stairs they waited, hearing a delighted squeal before she came streaking back down with the dress in her arms, barrelling into Jess and giving her a bear hug.

"It's sooo pretty, I love it," she chirruped excitedly. "Look Daddy, see my new dress Jessie got for me." Tia held up a concoction of lemony-yellow floral chiffon, silk and lace. It had a dropped waist and a handkerchief hemline.

"Oh wow Honey, that's a gorgeous dress and you'll look really beautiful in it –especially if Jess does that inside out braid thingy to your hair. Now that you've had a bath, why don't you try it on?" Tony suggested as she took off back up the stairs again calling over her shoulder, "It's called a French braid."

He looked at Jess. "That looks like it's handmade, Jess. Expensive?"

"So what if it was, T and I'm not saying it was? I saw it in a little shop in Dorset and I knew she'd love it. It's been such a shitty time for her, I couldn't resist getting it."

"Wow Jess-i-ca! Defensive much? I was just going to say that you're an awesome godmother and I don't know what we'd do without you." Tony assured her, hugging her fiercely. Okay something was definitely up with him.

"I promised that we'd take her somewhere special in the afternoon after we go see Mel tomorrow," he continued. "Maybe the zoo or to the beach. I reckon if we take Megan it should be okay." Then doing a typical one eighty that was so DiNozzo he stared at her. "You and Jimmy okay, Pardner?"

"We're okay, Tone. Just feeling a bit grimy and I'm not talking about from the road trip."

"I know, it's a grey area blackmailing him into doing it but it isn't for our monetary gain. It's so she gets to spend the rest of her childhood being able to go to the zoo, the beach or even the park and not have to worry about being abducted and smuggled out of the country."

"Don't have an issue making that piece of shit save my precious god daughter T, nor did Jimmy. It was letting the bastard get away with what he did to you. I mean you told Mel and I stuff after that case we worked when the nightmares got unbearable, so I knew just how much it affected you but seeing all the evidence laid out like that – that was a different matter. I wanted him to get thrown in gen pop and let him know what it feels like to be someone's punching bag and be helpless and alone." She was keeping her eyes open for Tia. "Didn't think that Opie should be alone tonight either," she explained – referring to Palmer.

"Sorry, Jess! But I'd do anything to save her. Can't change what happened to me, can't change what has already happened to her but hopefully this changes her future. And it was a good call dragging the Gremlin back here. Looks like we'll have a full house tonight. Time to fess up…I sorta gave your cabin to someone. I know I should have asked you first but the last two days have been totally crazy."

"Don't worry about it Tone. Since I've never actually spent any time there yet and I have a perfectly fine bedroom here in the house that I don't sleep in at the moment. It's fine. Who's the guest – Tia's auntie?"

They were interrupted by Jimmy and Tia coming down the stairs together. "No, Clare is coming next month for a few days. Let's talk while we get dinner. The kids can watch a movie. Gremlin will keep her occupied."

Rising to the Bait

Gibbs hated hospitals. He hated the food, the coffee or in this case the lack of it. He hated people telling him what to do, he hated that bossy nurses who thought he was going to follow their rules and be compliant and cooperative and doctors would lecture him about his lifestyle and try to belittle him by using their medical jargon. Well screw them all – he was as good as they were.

Of course it never occurred to him that he used jargon and for the same reason as medical professionals – to communicate with colleagues in a sort of shorthand – but then again Gibbs wasn't exactly known for his empathy. In fact, more than one ex-wife had commented bitterly on his inability to be able to put himself in another's shoes, although to be fair, she wasn't entirely correct. If it was someone that he identified strongly with, like a Marine (especially enlisted) or a father/husband who'd lost a child or a kid then it was a case of too much empathy. Oh not the sappy hugs and crying sort but over-identification and taking it far too personally – taking out his anger on everyone around him.

Still the fact remained he was frustrated with the doctors and nurses for the medical speak and the notion that they knew what was best for him. And the more that they stuck their noses into his business, the pissier he became and the more he wanted to get out of the damned place ASAP and head home to his basement. He'd be damned if some interfering know it all with a stick up his butt was going to tell him he couldn't do stairs until the swelling in his knee had gone down. He needed to be in his basement to stay sane – especially right now.

He'd been off his game – DiNozzo had been giving him searching looks ever since he returned from LA. Most of the time he was grateful, in a take-it-for-granted fashion that his SFA was adroit at reading him. Saved him having to use unnecessary words to convey what he wanted but currently it was annoying the crap out of him, since he couldn't hide his agitation and turmoil from him. And being in hospital with nothing to do, pumped full of drugs hadn't exactly helped the situation either – never knowing who'd waltz through the door to annoy him with a lot of yabba.

Why was it that people who never dreamed of disturbing him at home decided it was fine to do so when he was trapped in a damned hospital bed? Did they expect him to be grateful or something?

The point was that was lying in a hospital bed gave him way too much time to think and right now he didn't want to. Rule # 6 existed for a damned good reason, other than the fact that apologising was a sign of weakness. If you didn't have to say you were sorry then there was no need to engage in stupid, futile introspection and self-analysis or examination of past actions. There was always another new case to move on to, a new boat or wood working project to plan for and execute – a fresh bottle of bourbon to be opened and consumed and he was one day closer to when he'd be reunited with his wife and daughter.

Why is he so mean to you?

Yet it seemed as if fate had decided to play the meanest, nastiest practical joke on him that she could think of and force him to examine his actions in minute detail for the last few months. Then there had been the final straw. To be confronted in LA by a ghostly Spector from his past and it had kinda been the one that broke the camel's back, pushing him over the edge. He'd hated Macy ever since she'd been on a vendetta as a eager young Lieutenant in the Military Police, desperate to prove he'd killed Pedro Hernandez back when they were both still in the Corps.

He'd made it as hard as possible for her to do her job – taking it as a personal affront that she tried to make him pay for Hernandez' execution and it was a challenge to stop her. As a goal orientated individual he'd been utterly determined to stop her.

He was so furious at her, when the truth in hindsight was she was simply doing her job – it was his job too now and yet he'd hated her with a passion that was second only to Hernandez in terms of its intensity. Still did actually, eighteen years on. Lara Macy had became his personal nemesis and when she failed to prove her suspicions about what he'd done, he felt a primal triumph as if he'd won a huge moral victory or vindication. In hindsight, the simple truth was he'd simply gotten away with premeditated murder of a drug lord.

Seeing her again after so many years had been like ripping a whole heap of barely healing layers of unbearably tender skin off a still suppurating wound and he found his anger and hatred for Lara Macy racing right back up to the surface. It was all he could do to work with her again and that damned shrink was there the whole damned time, watching, listening and judging him.

He'd made her life a misery, well and truly living up to his two Bs for bastard reputation if Nate's demeanour was anything to go by and he'd been maliciously pleased to see her distress. It hadn't helped that Vance had given her the lead on their joint investigation the Marine PFC Nick Chandler because it appeared to be connected to their case into a drug runner and terrorist cell. He didn't care that she outranked him as Agent in Charge of the OSP. As far as he was concerned, he'd already proven in his own mind that she was a screw-up, that he was superior and didn't he enjoy reminding her of it too.

It was as if he was once again triumphing over evil forces. Like she was the enemy and he'd done something noble and self-sacrificing when he'd thwarted her efforts to prove he'd murdered Hernandez. By being unable to prove what he'd done, he'd preventing her from being able to court-martial him and throw him into a jail cell. Hell – truth to tell though, he was no damned different than the people he charged every day of the week, no matter how much he might kid himself otherwise. He'd busted others who'd killed to avenge loved ones – it was a common enough motive for murder for it to be unavoidable in his job as SSA of the major case response team. He coped with the obvious conflict by being results focused - an attribute that came naturally to him anyway and ignored the rest - again something that he found easy to do.

Then to have the Operational Psychologist Nate Getz drop a bombshell on him as he was leaving and tell him that he hadn't triumphed over her at all, that Lara Macy had enough evidence to charge him for murder and had chosen to bury it. To discover that the reason he didn't spend at least fifteen years in Leavenworth was actually because of the Marine cop, the same one he'd treated like the lowest piece of trash eighteen years ago and then during the case. It was a real kick in the nuts and he wasn't even man enough to acknowledge the debt he'd owed her, apart from a lousy nod to the security camera that she may or may not have seen. God how absolutely pathetic was that?

How utterly weak did that make him?

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since his return though and lying on his back in a hospital bed left him even more time to dwell on it which was why he couldn't get out of this place, fast enough. Too much time to brood and think had him realising just how petty and small minded he'd been to Macy at OSP and how she'd taken all his vitriol and never said a word in her own defence. What must they all think in LA, especially Callen? He was one person Jethro actually did give a damn what he thought of him.

G actually considered him to be family.

Why is he so mean to you?

If it had just been the Macy situation that occurred in isolation he could have handled it. Shaken it off like he always did, move on. But there'd been too much other evidence of late that his gut, that his judgement wasn't that of an all-powerful, all knowing agent that had such a fearsome reputation amongst the various alphabet agencies. It had shaken his confidence and the Macy situation had been the final nail in the coffin when it came to his usual defences and his ability to ignore anything that was an inconvenient reminder that he wasn't infallible.

Of course the most obvious example of that at the moment would have to be Ziva since he was currently engaged in the painful process of questioning whether or not his trust in her had been misplaced. Which in light of him being in hospital ostensibly because of her lies, wasn't that huge a leap to be making.

It seemed like Rule # Six was definitely looking a little shaky these days.