Special note to Little Eirtae: I love you. Thank you SO much for pointing that out to me...I feel like an idiot. :) I fixed it!
Chapter 5: Getting There
"You're going to LA," Jenny Shepard told Gibbs matter-of-factly.
"Um… no?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are, or you're fired," she said, an edge to her voice.
"You can't do that," he said skeptically.
"Watch me."
A pause.
"Well, when you put it that way…"
"We're going to LA," he announced later that day. His declaration provoked mixed reactions.
"Sweet! California babes!"
"Oh yes, Tony, because that's really the picture I wanted in my mind."
"But Gibbs! I'll tan! I can't possibly go! My hair will blonde! I'll be ruined!" Abby exclaimed sarcastically. Only McGee asked the most important question:
"Um… why?"
Gibbs waited for silence to fall before speaking. "We're going," he said, "for the Connors case." The group fell silent.
"Ah," said Abby. "I see. That's different, then."
"Yes. But, thing is, we're not there for the case. We're there for a government-based conference. Right?" The team caught on immediately.
"Right," Tony said giving a slow wink. "A conference…"
"DiNozzo. You look like you're having a seizure."
"Sorry, Boss."
"Coincidentally, there's a forensic conference going on at the same time. So we'll be able to take Abbs with us," Gibbs said, smiling at the forensic scientist. "What? You didn't think we'd leave you here for the random snipers?"
"Yessssss," Abby said, pumping her fist in the air in triumph, and doing a series of back flips in celebration. Unfortunately, one of them took her too far and she crashed into a desk. Righting herself quickly, she looked at the crushed computer in consternation. "Dammit!" she said, grimacing. "Third time this week. McGee!"
"On it, Abby," he said wearily, walking over to the desk and helping her repair it as she examined the computer. Gibbs shook his head, then addressed the two remaining agents who were still paying attention to him, albeit with frequent amused glances at McGee's complete ineptitude with manual labor.
"While we're there," Gibbs continued, "we're gonna be working with the LAPD. They think we've just got a missing person case and a suspect who happens to be in the area… the Director arranged it."
Tony stared.
McGee dropped the machinery he was holding (onto Abby's foot.)
The hard drive Abby was holding emitted a series of high-pitched beeps into the sudden silence and a trickle of smoke emerged. She didn't notice.
"What?" asked Gibbs, noting an equally confused Ziva.
"Er, Boss… you know, we kind of suck with other teams…" Tony started uncertainly, after a moment's pause.
"We're just not that wonderful on the… people… side of things," McGee said delicately.
"Entire departments have been known to take simultaneous personal days when they found out we were coming," Abby said bluntly.
"Well then, you'll just have to play nicely," Gibbs said sweetly.
"It's not us we're worried about," Tony muttered. He was rewarded with a slap upside the head. "Sorry, Boss."
"We move out on Wednesday. Get packed."
Abby looked around as the team emerged into the airport. It was big, white, and modern, with a huge row of security checkpoints ranging in front of them. As they approached one of the walkthrough machines, the bored- looking guard turned to face them. Gibbs wordlessly handed him the Arms Authorization paperwork that gave them the right to bring weapons aboard the plane.
"Orright, fine, but youse lot still need to take 'em all out an' run' em through the machine," he said in a monotone. After a brief nod from Gibbs, they all began taking out their weapons. Abby finished first, with only a semi automatic pistol and… numchucks? Gibbs gave her a look. She shrugged. McGee finished a moment later, sticking his a knife in the bin with his two handguns. He looked at Abby's bin and whispered something in her air. The girl hit herself on the forehead.
"What?" Ziva asked, waiting for a box.
"My mace. I always forget the damn mace," Abby replied, unclipping the lethal-looking weapon from her belt.
"Right… me too," hedged Ziva, edging away from her. Tony slid his bin through the machine soon after, and Gibbs followed suit. All that was left was Ziva, who had finally gotten a tray, filled it to the brim, and was now looking at it with concern.
"I may need two," she stated worriedly. "I'm not sure my taser is gonna fit in with the Sauer."
"Here ya go," Tony said, sliding her a second tray helpfully. "I told you you wouldn't need the hand grenade, but did you listen? Nooo," he said, rolling his eyes. Seeing the crowd around the security checkpoint looking at the group in fear, he sighed.
"What?" he asked irritably. The crowd whispered more. Tony threw up his hands, turning aback around to the rest of Gibbs' team.
"And yer jewl'ry, watches, belts, shoes, cell phones, computers, and jackets," the guard continued, seeming not to notice the small mountain of weaponry in front of him.
"Jesus, this is gonna take a bit," Abby said, flopping down to unlace and unbuckle her combat boots. Next came her earrings, her belly ring, studded choker and matching arm band, her belt, numerous rings, and all of her bangles. Collecting the pile, she dumped it in a tray with a metallic rattle, throwing her badge on top. The entire group proceeded to walk through the checkpoint, and Tony was chosen to be searched. By a female security worker. He didn't seem to mind.
"You wanna strip- search me?" he asked, leering. The woman giggled. Behind him, Ziva pretended to throw up. Abby nodded in agreement, making an expression of disgust. It was going to be a long trip.
1"I am not going to ask why you need three suitcases for a week's worth of work, Tony," Ziva said, staring at Tony's pile of luggage being loaded onto the X-Ray machine.
"You'll soon see, Miss David, that it is always best to be prepared for the unexpected," Tony said haughtily.
"Oh, is that what the condoms are for, then?" she asked, peering over the machine operator's shoulder to see the screen. Tony shot her a look before stalking away towards the gate. Ziva smiled, running to catch up to him. "And your carryon!" she continued. "Full! Stuffed with-" she looked at a magazine sticking out of a side pocket. "-Playboy! What if you have to sit with some adorable old lady? What will she think? What would your mother think?" Tony whirled around to face her, eyes angry. "Don't talk about things you don't understand," he snarled. Ziva stood her ground, but just barely. What the... "Besides. I personally happen to love old ladies. They're cute. And my bag isn't stuffed. If I wanted to, I could so fit a rhino in my carryon," he said disdainfully. Gibbs, having heard only the last part of the conversation, took one look at them and walked away towards a nearby Starbucks, shaking his head.
The plane trip went smoothly; Abby and McGee played computer games ("Elf Lord!" whispered Tony), Gibbs pored over the case file, Ziva read a novel, and Tony read… well, Tony read. Their flight was direct, and soon Abby had fallen asleep. Her head lolled onto McGee's shoulder, earning the man a 'Look' from Gibbs.
"Sorry," he mouthed, not looking it at all. Soon they were disembarking, stepping off into the bright Californian sun. Tony looked right at home, but Abby looked so out of place, with her pale skin and black hair, that it was all McGee could do not to laugh. They found their hotel, and, exhausted, said goodnight.
"Morning," McGee yawned, stumbling into the girls' room sleepily. "Hey, Ziva, I found out what Tony needed three bags for."
"Do I want to know?" the woman asked, brushing her hair out in the far corner of the room. McGee ignored her comment.
"About five million Alfred Hitchcock movies," he said, yawning again. "And guess what? He decided to watch them all last night. I got, what, maybe three hours of sleep, tops?" he said, glaring as Tony entered the room.
"Oh, don't be a baby," the man said, flopping on Abby's unmade bed. "I never sleep more than four, and look how I turned out."
"That's what I mean," McGee muttered.
"Off!" Abby said, shooing Tony away from her bed so she could make it. "I miss my coffin. None of this stupid sheet- folding stuff. Just slam the lid and lock it." None of the group commented on this; they were so used to it, the oddness of the statement didn't even register.
"Finish the bed, Abbs, we're leaving in three minutes," Gibbs said, sticking his head into the room.
"Gotcha, Boss- man," she said, chucking the pillows on haphazardly. The bed looked like a war zone, sheets untucked and pillowcases falling off.
"Our own domestic goddess," Tony snickered, earning himself a punch in the arm as Abby walked out the door.
"Ow!" he said, massaging his shoulder.
"Women," Ziva said, following Abby and Tony, "are naturally defensive when it comes to their homemaking skills."
"Yeah, I got that," he said ruefully.
The group got into the rental van and, amongst good-natured bickering, got settled in for the drive to the LAPD headquarters. Although none would ever admit it, they were all worried; everyone knew that they were not exactly the most conventional team in law enforcement. Tony, the smooth talker, was the least worried; if it came down to it, they'd have Gibbs, he knew. Ziva had faced enough discrimination in her lifetime to be more than wary of meeting new people. McGee was apprehensive; he was just not a people person. His quiet and reserved attitude set him apart from a lot of the hotheads that worked in the LAPD, and he was the youngest agent on Gibbs' team. Abby was worried about her image, although she would never tell anyone. The people in New York were used to her, and accepted her. In LA, the land of Barbies and bikinis, she stuck out like a sore thumb, and she knew it.
Gibbs was just worried that someone would find out that no one in his team had had a psych evaluation in over two years.
The group parked the van in the parking lot, earning stares from passing workers at Ziva's obvious Israeli background and Abby's dress. Which wasn't actually that bad, for once; Gibbs suspected she had toned it down a bit for their hosts. It was merely a black pleated miniskirt with a red and black striped blouse and combat boots. Maybe it was the hat that set them off. (A/N: you all know the hat I'm talking about! The red one Abbs wears in Probie? With the pigtails sticking out? ADORABLE!)
They entered the building and dispersed, Ziva, Tony, and McGee going to the three cubicles clearly reserved for them, Gibbs going over to his co- commanding equal, the head of the LAPD team that would be opposite his, a man named Chris Kensington. Abby looked around, feeling a bit useless, and decided to go look at their forensics lab, as she had nothing better to do. Spotting a sign, she followed it across the lobby and into a room on the left. It was nothing like hers- she felt a twinge of longing for the bright neon photos of injuries, and her dark music. A man stood at the end of a long table, goggles obscuring most of his face. He frowned, clearly concentrating on his task.
"Oxidizing lead-based paint?" Abby asked, walking towards him. The man jumped.
"Wha- oh, yeah. Sorry, you frightened me." He had an Irish accent and fiery red hair- Abby liked him immediately.
"Sorry, " she apologized. "Abby. Abby Scutio," she said, extending a hand to the grinning man.
"Charlie MacIntyre," he replied, an easy smile settling comfortably onto his features. "Mack the Knife to my friends, or just Mack." Seeing her surprised and... alarmed?... look, he explained further. "I'm the blade expert for the LA region. You'd be amazed at the stats for knifings... 84 percent of all criminal activities in Los Angeles involve blades of some sort. Um... are you okay?" he questioned, seeing Abby pale.
"Not again," she muttered. "Er... yes. Be right back." She walked quickly back over to where Gibbs was standing, talking with Kensington, and stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. A concerned look passed over his face, and he turned to murmur something back, before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He bent over to confer with Kensington, straightening and calling something to Abby, who was heading back towards Mack. She waved a hand nonchalantly.
"Well, you've passed the test, Mackie-boy. Congrats!"
"Huh?" he asked, befuddled.
"You'll get used to her," Tony said, sticking his head in with an armful of coffee mugs and pushing one into his hands as he walked by. Yes, but will I ever understand the rest of them?
"Do you trust your forensic analyst?" Gibbs asked, looking in concern at Abby.
"Huh?" Kensington replied intelligently. Gibbs knew him to be a good man, if a bit on the law-abiding side; I never could stand that in a man, he thought humorlessly.
"MacIntyre. Do you trust him?" he pressed impatiently.
"Well, yes, but I don't see-" the man began, clearly confused. Gibbs cut him off, signing to Abby on the other side of the room. She waved a hand nonchalantly in recogntition.
Gibbs leaned down until he was on eye level with Kensington. "What I am saying to you never leaves your mouth. Or I will hunt you down and kill you personally, to hell with the law. Not to mention, Abby could easily make it so no one would ever know I did it. Do you understand?" Kensington nodded meekly.
"Good. Abby was attacked recently by her lab assistant. He stabbed her. With a knife. In the chest." Kensington looked at him wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Gibbs shut it and patted him on the shoulder. "There. That's what happened. Satisfied?" despite his light tone, his eyes had darkened slightly.
"What… what happened to the assistant?" he asked
"She pushed him through her lab wall with the knife still stuck in her chest. It's glass," Gibbs said, smiling fondly. "That's our Abbs."
"Jesus," Kensington said, staring at the innocent-looking girl openly.
"Yeah, pretty much. Although, she's actually more like the Anti-Christ on Tuesdays," Gibbs said conversationally. "And you don't even want to know about Ziva." He smiled to himself; maybe this would work out after all. Move fast enough, and everything else seemed to go slowly.
It gave you plenty of time to aim and fire.
A/N: Sorry if this chap moved a bit fast... I wanted to get them to LA. Ah well. REVIEW!
Gertrude Louise Genevieve: Thank you so much!
jacey05: Thanks.. I've been trying to come up with plot twists for the case.
bloodredcherry: Yes, I know the tetchy thing... but I re-examined the dream sequence, and it's actually not like the other one at all... I guess it was all in my head, so hopefully whoever the goddess (or god) is that wrote that won't hate me. Thanks for reviewing!
LosingInTranslation: Less action in this one, more movement. Hope you liked it!