Answers Revealing
Gibbs was pissed. He still had too many questions, and not enough answers.
He had just gotten off the phone with Captain Jackson Douglas, Base Commander at CFB Halifax. The Captain had sounded regretful when Gibbs had broken the news to him about their positive identification.
"Special Agent Gibbs, we will of course be continuing our own investigation from up here," he had said. "If you would be so kind, I'm willing to share information if you are."
Gibbs had seemed agreeable to it. "Captain Douglas, we're still trying to determine if your young Able Seaman died on American soil or not. Anything you can tell us to lead us to a speedy conclusion on this will be much appreciated. We want to send him home as soon as possible."
"Thank you," the base commander said. "We really appreciate this. Mrs. Moonchild is taking this very hard. And Matthew's shipmates… they're still in a state of disbelief. We want him home as much as you do, believe me, Agent Gibbs."
"Captain, my agents have raised an interesting question. Why was Able Seaman Moonchild in uniform, if he was on leave?"
Captain Douglas had paused a moment. "His shipmates reported that they had arranged an impromptu celebration for him off base, in the city. They insisted that he be in uniform for it. It was arranged by the men he had saved in the fire onboard the Diefenbaker. They were extremely grateful, as you can imagine. They wanted to honour him properly. Matthew was a modest man, Agent Gibbs. He wasn't into accolades and big public displays of recognition. He was humble. He saw what he did on the Diefenbaker as being just another day at sea. He really wasn't even that comfortable with the official commendation."
Gibbs had nodded. "I see, Captain. Well, we'll be in contact with you again as soon as we know anything. Thank you," he said, as the man on the other end also bid goodbye, and Gibbs hung up.
Abby looked up as Jimmy suddenly appeared in her lab. "Hey Palmer," she said, smiling. Jimmy blushed, and smiled bashfully, then cleared his throat. "Uh, Dr. Mallard wanted you to see if you could determine where these marks might have come from," he said to her. Abby took the post-mortem photo from Jimmy's offering hands and studied it carefully.
"We don't know where it's from, just where it isn't from."
Abby made a face. "I gather it isn't from the shipping container?" Jimmy nodded at her, almost regretfully. "He didn't die there, and wherever he was when he died, it left those marks on his back. He was moved into the container quite some time after the fact."
Abby sighed. "I'll get right on it," she smiled at him. Jimmy smiled back, then turned around just in time to find himself face-to-face with McGee.
McGee smiled at him sweetly, a grin that chilled Jimmy's blood slightly. "I was just, uh… leaving," Jimmy stammered, stumbling around the taller man and out through the doors. Abby fired a dirty look at him. "Was that really necessary?" she scolded. McGee raised an eyebrow and frowned. "What? I didn't do anything!" he said, defensively. Abby rolled her eyes and muttered, "Special Agent He-man. Hmph." McGee's frown deepened as he turned and got back to work, and Abby smiled to herself. God, she loved it when he did that, got all territorial on her. And teasing him about it was just the icing on the cake. She glanced over at him - he still looked a little wounded. Oh well, she thought. She'd more than make it up to him later.