I'M SORRY! Psh. 10 reviews happened a lot sooner that I thought it would. Sorry for the late-ness; Real Life is catching up. But I'm in Vegas now, and I'm taking time out from staring at the pretty lights to write and post this, so...love me? PLUS: I added a mini chapter to make up for the wait! Huggles.
Chapter 3a: Bodies and Bullets
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nada.
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"Exactly." Ziva said. "So, whoever it is will try again."
McGee was halfway to the door already.
"What the hell are we doing here, then?" he asked, disbelieving. "She's in a goddamn hospital...I got in through the fire escape, for the love of god! Any halfway decent tech grad could disable the alarms and-"
"Probie. Chill," interjected Tony.
"We're acting under the assumption that whoever our mole is, they haven't figured out what actually happened yesterday. Ziva has suddenly become incredibly inept at paperwork, and it'll take them a while to decipher her answers, not to mention her handwriting," explained Gibbs. "The best thing for Abby is to lie low for a bit. Remember, our man is high up in the department. We take him down, he loses everything. He'll be cautious. Take his time before going after her again. That'll give us time to prepare." McGee sat down heavily behind his desk again.
"God. What a mess," he said. Gibbs silently agreed. This is going to be a political nightmare, he thought, grimacing.
((Three Days Later))
"Miss me?" Abby called, her carefree tone of voice completely at odds with the exhausted expression on her features. She waltzed into the bullpen in her typical clothes, a tight black miniskirt and black wifebeater, with elbow-length gloves cut off at the fingertips. The white lab coat she wore over it completed the outfit, but McGee thought that the whole thing somehow lacked the sharp, careless edge her attire usually had. She seemed tired. And afraid. The idea itself was frightening; McGee didn't think he had ever seen Abby this off before. Even in the hospital, she had seemed like she would get over it all quickly, just snap back to her old self...in a way, seeing her so normal (well, normal by Abby's standards), but so changed...it was almost worse. Oh, hell.
"Look, don't throw a party or anything," Abby said weakly as the rest of the team crowded around her. "We all know what happened last time you lot decided to throw a welcome-back celebration." Her dark mascara stood out against her pale, pale, pale skin. McGee smiled anxiously at her, and she blushed before turning her attention back to Gibbs' team. Odd.
She spent the day in her lab, going over the files that had been damaged and complaining loudly about the 'incompetent idiots who couldn't even put my three thousand dollar processor back in the effing hard drive properly. Jesus!'. Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, and McGee stayed out of her way; as Tony put it, "She's on a sort of healing mission thing. I've seen it before. Let it go, Probie. It'll pass."
"Could've used you with my second wife, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, I've had a bit of experie-" Tony began before Gibbs whacked him on the back of the head. "Sorry, Boss," he winced.
Abby settled into her chair, her head swimming. Damn. She rested her head on her arms, burying her face from the light. Ow. Migraine. Or something. She hadn't even contemplated putting music on this morning; her head was throbbing, and there had been bright spots obscuring her vision. She wasn't completely sure why; the doctor had diagnosed it as post-traumatic stress, but Abby wasn't sure. Mainly, her shoulder ached, and bending over stung as well; she was stretching out her newly-formed scars, and it hurt. She was startled from her thoughts by McGee's entrance to the lab. She jerked her head up and resumed filing frantically. "I wasn't asleep...I was just resting!"
"Abbs. Chill," McGee said soothingly, unwittingly copying Tony's tone perfectly. "It's okay. You're not even supposed to be back yet...you should be resting."
"Right," Abby said, calming down and slumping back into the seat again. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired of it all, you know?" she asked, running a hand over her brow and biting her bottom lip. "I'm sick of it. I mean...all my friends, everyone I know-except you lot, of course- they're all normal. Nurses, accountants, lawyers... they ask me how my life is going, you know? And do you know what I have to tell them? I have to say, 'Sorry, really wish I could go out tonight, but chances are I'll be sleeping at my lab all week, making sure my commanding officer doesn't go suicidal over a case, and trying to figure out who killed a Marine sergeant and left his body up a tree by tracing his ex-girlfriend's cell phone records and doing an assist for an autopsy on his dead roommate's headless body, which just happens to be riddled with bullet holes!'" she said, her voice growing more and more hysterical as she neared the end.
McGee was speechless. "Um..."
"Is it any wonder I need caffeine!" she nearly screamed, before smiling sheepishly at McGee's alarmed expression. "It's fine," she said, waving him off. "Sorry to go off on you like that..."
"No," McGee said showing an unusual amount of resolve. "No, you needed to say it. And, you know, you could always leave, if this is too much..."
"I'd never quit," Abby said. "Forensics is my life, and I don't think I could live with myself if I left. Too much guilt. It just...gets old, you know? Telling people that I'm off getting shot at or up to my elbows in bodies and bullets."
"I know," McGee said. There was something in the back of his mind controlling his actions, he knew, because four days ago he would not have been moving forward and hugging her like he was now. "How do you think it feels to be an MIT grad and end up here? All my old friends...engineers, technicians, programmers, the lot of them. Manual work? They think it's a step down on the career scale. I know." He encircled her with his arms, her back against his chest, and Abby could feel his warm breath on her neck.
"Thanks," she whispered.
Meanwhile, down at the bullpen, things were not progressing smoothly.
"DiNozzo! Tell me you have something for me," Gibbs barked as Tony walked towards his desk.
"Actually, Tony's been off getting food-" Ziva began, glaring as Tony interrupted her.
"Here ya go, Boss. Black, just like you ordered. And I got you a backup mug too," Tony said, handing Gibbs two large mugs of coffee.
"Thank you," Gibbs said fervently. "Abby?" he inquired.
"Two Caff-Pows, hold the Pow, McGee gets a frappechino, and I got Ducky some Earl Grey and a double mocha latte," Tony said.
"What about me?" Ziva asked. Tony handed her a small styrofoam cup.
"Kiddie milkshake. Vanilla," he said, smirking. Ziva pouted.
"I hate you," she said, looking at the container with distaste.
"Oh, very mature. I can tell my choice of beverages was correct," Tony said, grinning.
"You two can flirt when we catch this guy," Gibbs interrupted. "Actually, I lied. You can't flirt anyway. Rule #12. Work on it, DiNozzo."
"Yessir, Boss."
"And get McGee in here! I need him to hack into NCIS' phone network database. I want every single phone call that bastard ever had the slightest chance of receiving."
"So...we're hacking onto our own database. Isn't that just a little bit illegal?" Tony questioned.
"Yep," said McGee, coming down the stairs. "Somehow I don't think that legality is gonna count for much on this one, though. If you gave me your access code for the files this would go faster," he said to Gibbs, sitting down at his desk. Tony handed him the frappechino.
"Extra foam, Probie."
"Thanks," McGee said distractedly, fingers hammering away at his keyboard. He lifted one hand and caught the packet Gibbs tossed him without even looking up, opening it and scanning his eyes over the codes. "B14, S27...got it. I'm gonna need Abby's computers for the rest of this," he stated, rising from the desk. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed, holding it with his shoulder and grabbing the sheaves of paper, his drink, and Abby's two Caff-Pows. "Gimme two hours and I will have everything we know on Chip Alcon, down to the name of his gerbil," he promised, walking back towards the stairs. "Hey, Edward? It's Tim McGee from NCIS- Yes, I'm being discreet, Gibbs!- Sorry, er, yeah, I need the files from section B14 unlocked, they should be under the S subcat, on the main file..."
"Does he seem...different?" Tony asked, looking bemusedly at McGee's retreating form.
"Yes," Ziva said. "In a good way, I think."
"I don't care if McGee is eight weeks pregnant, DiNozzo," Gibbs said bluntly. "I need you two to go talk to all the officials that had a hand in Chip's job apps. Discreetly. Make something up. I don't care, just do it!"
And, of course, they did.
Abby sighed, banging her head against her desk in frustration and exhaustion.
"Just a guess here, but that probably isn't helping your headache," said a voice near her ear. "This, however, might," it continued, handing her a Caff-Pow.
"McGee," she groaned, before registering the styrofoam cup she now held. "Oh, my god... thank you!" she exclaimed, sucking on the straw enthusiastically. She sighed. "Bliss. Okay, what's up?" Gibbs had already briefed her on the... situation... and she knew that she needed to stay under the radar.
"Chip's phone files. Or lack thereof."
"Gotcha," Abby said, standing up from the chair. She had gotten a new one, McGee noticed absently. It was probably a good thing. The old blue swivel had been drenched in blood. Shaking his head to clear away the thought, he plopped down and spread out his files, beginning to scroll through endless matrices and entrance codes.
"Thanks," said Abby softly, looking at the screen over his shoulder.
"Wasn't me. Tony got them," McGee said distractedly.
"No, not the Caff-Pows. I meant...earlier," she said quietly. McGee looked up, realizing how close her face was to his. He kissed her softly but with an undertone of need; when it ended, he looked into her eyes.
"You've got to be, like, my favorite geek. Ever," Abby said. McGee grinned, not feeling the slightest bit put off.
"How'd you like it if your favorite geek took you out to dinner tonight?" he asked.
"I'd like that very much, as long as I choose the restaurant," she said, smiling as well.
"Sounds wonderful," McGee said, kissing her forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Okay. The headache's gone away pretty much, now," she said, eyes glittering with mischief.
"Told you I had something to help with that, eh?" McGee asked.
"Lieutenant Connors?"
"Yes?" the bespectacled man looked up from his computer, looking unsurprised to see two of NCIS' finest agents standing over his desk. "You are?" the older man inquired.
"Agents DiNozzo and David. I trust we don't need to give the authentication speech," Ziva said, smiling at the man. He did not return the gesture.
"What do you want? I'm busy, so make it quick."
"Er..." Tony started. "You've been recorded as the man who transferred Chip Alcon to Agent Gibbs' team. We need the files from the transition folder; there's been an accident, and some of his papers are missing... information." Tony injected his words with a tinge of dishonesty.
"Just what sort of accident?" the Lieutenant asked, eyes alight with suspicion.
"Oh, look, honestly," Ziva said, rolling her eyes at Tony. "We can tell him."
"Ziva!" Tony hissed. "Shut up! One sec, please," he said to the man, grabbing Ziva's arm and towing her some distance away. "You idiot- this is confidential information!" He punctuated his speech with expansive arm gestures and an angry expression. Lowering his voice, he said, "He's taking it, I think. Angry man! To the rescue!" he said, poking her in the chest.
"Look, we can trust him. I don't think that there's a mole at all. Gibbs...he's just insane. I don't know why I keep working here. I'm telling him. Maybe he can bring Gibbs to his senses." Whispering, she added, "We're good so far. Look more indignant when I tell him the story. And stop poking me!" She walked back towards Connors, and could see by his eyes that he had heard the whole thing- or thought he had.
Tony trailed behind, pasting a sullen expression on his face.
"Lieutenant. I'm going to tell you what's going on because I feel that you are trustworthy, and also because I enjoy pissing off Agent DiNozzo." Well, that bit was true.
"Go on," the man said, eyes cold. Oh, he's good, thought Tony
"We need Alcon's files because we have suspicions that he is-was- a mole sent in to infiltrate NCIS. Past tense because he's dead now, sir. There was an accident in the forensics lab- our main technician got hurt- and Alcon died. The thing is, while looking over his post mortem records, his information didn't quite check out. Someone fooled you, sir, and got him into the department. We don't know who and we don't know why. That's what we're hoping the files will tell us," said Ziva. She could feel Tony's annoyed gaze on her; good liar. This was their guy. Ziva could feel it. The only problem was, they had no proof. It would be impossible to prosecute Connors with no evidence; it would just end with Gibbs being fired and the team disbanded, in all probability.
Connors handed her the files, and she nodded her thanks. Tony glared at her and the man and stalked off, massaging his temples. Ziva caught up, flipping through the papers as she walked. When she was sure they were out of hearing distance, she muttered, "Well played. I think he bought it."
"Yeah. Can I take this face off now? It's starting to hurt," Tony replied.
"I know you, Jethro."
"You never let me forget it."
"I know you, and I know you're up to something," Jen Shepard said, glaring into Gibbs' eyes. "And I want in," she said. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
"That's very un-director like," he said, with a hint of humor. Jen looked down, biting her lip. She knew it wasn't very professional, but...
"It has something to do with your forensics analyst- Abigail?"
"Abby," Gibbs said shortly, eyes darkening slightly.
"What happened? What did her assistant do to her?"
"He stabbed her. In the chest. And pulled her through a glass wall," he said levelly, a tightness in his nonetheless calm voice. Jen looked at him in horror. She had seen the girl, lying in the lab in a puddle of her own blood, had seen the man nearby, a sliver of glass protruding from his chest. She just hadn't realized that the team, Gibbs' team, had become so involved in the attack. They all looked so worried, like they wouldn't survive if she didn't. And Gibbs... she knew how much Kate's death had affected him. Abby's near- death experience and Ducky's abduction so soon after had nearly driven him over the edge. And now...
"Tell me everything," she said, hoping against hope that Gibbs would see fit to answer. He looked at her, eyes older than the rest of him, as usual. And then he told her everything that has happened four days ago.
"You know, I never really had you pegged as a multi cultural diner, Timmy," Abby said, leaning back in her chair.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, smiling back at her.
"Apparently," she grinned. They were in a small Moroccan- styled restaurant, with brightly patterned decor and spicy food.
"Wanna find out?" he asked. Abby looked at him. His face flushed.
"No! No, no, I didn't mean-not like that- I just meant that we should find out more about each other's lives, not-"
"Sounds good." Abby ignored his stuttering. She leaned towards him, resting her elbows on the table. "You first."
Chapter 3b: BandAids
"I was born in Rhode Island. A small town, one where everyone knew each other. My mother worked as a nurse, my dad was built beautiful boats. All wooden. He used to take me out in them, before... before he died. Someone set fire to his workshop; they never found out who did it. All the varnish, the wood... it went up like fireworks." McGee paused, collecting himself. "My mother worked all the time after that, and I started working as an automechanic to pay the bills. Eventually I saved up to move to Boston and got a scholarship to attend MIT. She died my second year there. Cerebral hemorrhaging. I graduated, got recruited here. And that's it. Your turn," McGee said quickly, sounding as if he preferred not to think about it.
Like a BandAid. Quick and fast, get it over with.
"Um," Abby started. "Born in New Orleans- but you know that. My dad was a bartender. Mum died in childbirth, after having my little sister. Dad went kinda crazy, started drinking his own booze. Said it was my fault, disowned me, and I haven't seen him since. As far as I know, Lizzy's still with him. I tried to get Social Services in to intervene; they put her in a foster home, but she kept running away, back to him. Went to the University of Louisiana; my grandmother paid the tuition. Paid for food and clothes and stuff by working at a funeral home. Graduated, grandmother died, couldn't afford the rent, moved here. You know the rest."
"Oh," McGee said. "Yours is definitely more mentally traumatic than mine. Damn." Abby grinned.
"That's what I like about you, Timmy. You know how to make a girl laugh," she said.
"Oh, please. I'm no Tony," he said, blushing.
"I know," Abby said softly. McGee reddened further.
"I didn't know you had a sister," he said.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," Abby said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, let's go outside," she said, standing up and walking out to a balcony shrouded with red and brown striped curtains.
"So. Tell me your innermost thoughts," she said as McGee came up alongside her. He would have laughed, but something in her voice told him that she wasn't kidding. He pulled her against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head and breathing in the scent of her hair. Mmm. It smelled vaguely of mangoes; McGee was surprised at the un-Abby-like scent. He had been expecting gunpowder.
"My innermost thoughts?" he asked, thinking. "This whole thing with Chip- it made me realize that life… it ends. That's it. No one has any control over when they go, when they leave. The only way to control anything in life is to live it to the fullest. Take the opportunities when they come, because they never last. Also, your hair smells like mangoes," he added as an afterthought. Abby laughed, and he could feel her body shake against his. She turned her head to look at him.
"And will you be taking those opportunities from now on, Agent McGee?" she asked.
"Yes, I think so," he said, and kissed her.
A/N: Yay! Another chapter here and gone. Please review, as I am taking time out from eating airline peanuts to write this...I want 15 this time, people! Also, an ANNOUNCEMENT: I AM LAZY. Somewhere in this fandom some wonderfully underappreciated author has written a wonderfully underappreciated story that involved thatwonderfully underappreciated kiddie milkshake scene with the wonderfully underappreciated Tony and Ziva. I STOLE IT. SORRY. It was just way too cool. The Sad Story of Slouchy Sanford, that was the story. Damn my random Senior Moments. ANYWAY. Hopefully the next chapter will be on time. I have seven hours to start writing it...mebbe get 2 pages done (Each chapter is 5. Except for this, which was 7) Hope ya'll enjoyed! Now...REVIEW!