June 22, 2006: Nibbling at the edges of this story, trying to work out the next chapter. For some inexplicable reason, I've been misspelling Tony's last name as 'Dinozzo'. The CBS Profile clearly reads 'DiNozzo'. I have no clue what happened but I'll spell it correctly from now on. :)

The length of time a character has worked for NCIS has been extrapolated from the CBS site to catch up with the appropriate time for certain events to occur before and during this story. My apologies if I haven't calculated that correctly.

This story has not been Betaed, so all errors are my own darned fault. No infringement is intended.

June 26, 2006: Hmmm… A slightly different angle on the story, perhaps. Not a lot of progress with the case in this chapter, but these characters are so interesting to explore. :) Here is Abby's perspective.

Enjoy!

Tin Star

Chapter Seven

By lilmouse

"I don't understand you. No matter what you say. If Kane was my man, I'd never leave him like this. I'd get a gun. I'd fight."

"Why don't you?"

"He is not my man. He's yours."

- Helen (Katy Jurado) to Amy (Grace Kelly), 'High Noon', 1952

Forensic Specialist Abby Sciuto sits cross-legged on Tony's desk. The office is quiet and most of the light is coming in through the blinds, the slats only partially turned to block the morning. The rest is ambient lighting from recesses in the ceiling, installed for security purposes but blessedly unobtrusive.

At about 0600 hours, she'd grown cold in her PVC mini skirt - something to do with the lack of sleep, she figures - and had changed into a pair of black leather pants she keeps in her desk drawer. With several tests running and her e-mail and blog all up-to-date, she quickly became bored and took the elevator to the bullpen, making faces and striking poses like 'Charlie's Angels' in the polished steel interior - just because she could.

There is only one other person in the bullpen and he is hardly in a state for company. Special Agent Tony DiNozzo is curled on the floor behind his desk, dressed in the same clothes he wore the day before. His jacket is acting as a pillow and he sleeps the sleep of the drugged. After his first pizza, the pain had been sufficient that more meds were required. Ducky had modified the dosage to avoid another violent reaction.

So Abby sits on Tony's desk and watches him sleep and wonders if guardian angels perch themselves in this manner, staying above the living in their care in order to keep a proper eye on them.

Wonders if Kate's guardian angel was on break or something.

She's been working for NCIS just over six years now, and Tony for forty-three months. They calculate their time differently. Tony says that months sound more satisfying, as if he's been here longer than the three years and seven months they represent, and he's very conscious of how long he's worked at the same place. She knows why he does this but wishes he'd stop now that he's beaten his two years in Peoria. He doesn't tend to let things go, though, which is one of the reasons he makes an excellent investigator.

It is also one of the reasons he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.

Even unconscious and being put through the wringer, Tony looks good. He isn't the only cute guy at the office - for example, McGee is cute, too, just in a different way, and Gibbs is the Silver-Haired Fox and she'll smack anyone who contradicts her - but Tony's got that classic Hollywood-thing going for him. Attitude and looks, like Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood, Sean Connery, Robert Redford.

Action heroes and heart breakers.

When Tony goes into full 'cop mode', he is bewitching.

She savours this opportunity to watch him without interruption. She doesn't care what people think about her - most of the time - so that isn't why she's staring now, in the solitude of the dawn. There's just usually so much going on that there isn't time to pause and appreciate the view. Teasing Tony she can squeeze into the schedule. It's fun trying to embarrass him but it isn't easy. He's a pro at chitchat, banter and sexual innuendo, and she likes the challenge.

He's a good friend and she doubts they'll ever be more than that and that's fine with her - but she isn't dead. Who knew work could have such yummy eye-candy? Abby keeps forgetting to ask if a modelling agent has ever approached him. He has good bone structure and he's tall and physically fit, with beautiful eyes and that smile…

She grins. And that nice ass.

She spends the next few minutes picturing him in catalogue poses in his underwear - just because she can.

His PDA beeps a pre-set alarm at 0700 hours and he yawns and stretches. Abby files this away for replay later on. He pulls his cell phone from his pocket, his eyes still closed, pushing the number for the local pizza joint he has on speed dial.

When he opens his eyes, he doesn't seem surprised to find her on his desk. She grins down at him and he smiles, slowly, sleepily. He even lets her choose the toppings on his pizza. The call completed, he stands and stretches some more then sits in his chair, spinning around once before wheeling closer to the keyboard and giggling his mouse. He opens his e-mail, skims it and chooses one to read. He hits reply and starts to type as fast as he can.

Which isn't terribly fast at all, Abby notes. Reports must be a bitch for him. She silently counts to thirty after he presses 'send' then launches into a brand new topic without any preamble.

"Tell me about talking to Kate," she asks while they wait for the delivery. She is curious, sad, jealous - and hoping her ouija board is still in the back of her closet.

"Not right now, Abby," he says lightly, but he won't look at her when he speaks, instead focussing on the computer. She tilts her head to see the screen better. His task bar has government links, CNN News, a blog, and what she suspects is an unfinished game of Solitare.

"You can't avoid me forever, Tony, and you know I'm gonna keep asking."

"I know," he says, sounding resigned to his fate. "I don't really want to avoid you at all, Abbs. I'm kinda freaked out about it, actually, just… just don't ask me now." He looks up at her then and she sees the mask slip ever so slightly. "Okay?"

Abby has an overwhelming urge to hug him and try to soothe the pain in those glazed green eyes but knows that at this very moment, he probably couldn't take her touch. This is Tony, she reminds herself. He'd want to hug back and that could make him break. He'd have trouble then.

Trouble keeping it together.

"Okay." Her voice is steady, clear, with no sign of teasing. She wants him to know he can count on her.

Needing to do something, she checks her watch to see if they'll be getting a free pizza and doesn't pursue the topic.

Special Agent Timothy McGee joins them just as the food arrives; in fact, he's ridden in the same elevator as the delivery guy. Abby doesn't care if Tim is on probation or not, he's an agent like the others as far as she's concerned. He's intelligent and smart with computers - almost as smart as she is - and he's really very sweet. They definitely make better friends than lovers but it was fun and she doesn't regret it. She glances over at him and notes he looks a little green.

"Morning," he manages, swallowing hard as he moves towards his desk and drapes his trench coat over the back of his chair.

Guess he doesn't have pizza for breakfast.

"Morning," Abby responds brightly. Tony pays the delivery guy and Abby can't wait to help him eat one of his favourite foods. The meal bar she had at 0530 hours just didn't cut it.

She plucks at the pizza as it emerges form the cardboard box, liberating pieces of gooey cheese and sucking the grease from her fingers. She hasn't changed her position in a while and idly wonders if she'll be able to move when she tries.

"Wanna slice, Probie?"

Tony leans back in his chair, feet on his desk, ankles crossed, and happily starts working his way through his second pizza of the day - double cheese, pepperoni, spicy sausage, green peppers and onions. This is his third bottle of Coke since about 0400 hours.

"No, thanks," McGee declines weakly and tries not to inhale the aroma of the spicy sausage as he logs on to his computer. Tony chuckles and chews.

By eight forty-five in the morning, the Justice of the Peace has been tracked down and records verify that Robert Joseph Garvey and Stacey Burnett were married two months ago in a small civil ceremony. Tony has made several inquiries for information on one of the witnesses at the wedding, a woman named Maxine Wu.

The other witness was Petty Officer First Class Federico Rossi.

The office is busy now. Although the sun is shining, it doesn't seem to be producing much heat as the employees of NCIS are arriving in heavy jackets and gloves and layers of clothing underneath. The aroma of coffee permeates every corner of the office. Columbia, Arabia, Sumatra. Blends with the hint of chocolate and alcohol and spice. Even those staff members who don't usually indulge seem to need the extra caffeine to deal with a truly cold November day.

There is no denying the inevitable. Winter has arrived and the tension in the office regarding the approaching holiday season begins. The 'Secret Santa' gift exchange is a tradition, much like fruitcake and stringing lights while balancing precariously on the roof. Abby knows it is widely speculated that the real reason Agent Faulkner ended up shot in the foot before the staff Christmas party last year was an attempt to avoid another tie that played 'Jingle Bells'.

The tie had followed him to the hospital anyway.

Tony says he isn't worried about his Secret Santa. He had a date with an IV unit and heavy drugs when the Planning Committee for this sort of thing geared up. He will deal with the name he pulls from the jar when the time arrives.

Abby can't wait to find out who she'll be buying for this year. She loves Christmas.

Tony is on his third slice. Despite his cheerful, upbeat demeanour, he looks exhausted and she worries that he's pushing himself too hard, especially after his confusion and issues with mistimed medication in Autopsy earlier.

"Where's Gibbs?" she asks, looking at the desk in question. Everything on it - which admittedly, isn't much - is neatly lined up with military precision. Gibbs isn't anal. As the only member of the team with a military background, sometimes its easy for the others to forget that even though he isn't officially a Marine anymore the habits drilled into him will never cease.

Tony frowns slightly. "Last time I saw him he was going back to Autopsy."

"Oh, I know about that. I gave him the results that sent him there but that was like -" She consults her watch. "- almost three-and-a-half hours ago. Is he still there?"

He shrugs and reaches for another piece of pizza. "Dunno. I was asleep, remember?" He raises his eyebrows. "What did you find?"

She sits straighter, her hands on her knees and grins, eyes bright. "Splinters of wood in the late Robert Garvey's hair. Northern white ash, to be exact."

Tony and McGee exchange a look. "Baseball bat," Tony declares.

"I knew that," McGee states grouchily.

"You know your sports," Abby says, pleased that despite feeling awful, Tony is on the ball and rolling with it. She isn't surprised.

"Actually, basketball is more my thing but there was a case in Baltimore where the guy kayoed his uncle with a baseball bat for sleeping with his wife."

"I used to play softball." McGee stops speaking when Tony playfully waves a piece of pizza at him.

"Those aren't real bats, Probie. They're composites. Not like the real game."

"Hey, softball is a real game - Tony! Get that pizza away from me."

Tony sits down again, grinning. "Well, Probie, a baseball bat is close to a lead pipe. Think I was right about the girlfriend?" McGee just rolls his eyes and returns to his computer.

Abby notes that he can type much faster than Tony.

The pizza is almost finished so she decides to stretch her legs in preparation for standing. Tony watches her appreciatively.

"You look like a pixie." She stares at him, not blinking. "Well, a sexy pixie via Leatherworld," he amends, grinning.

She beams. "Much better."

Her boots touch the carpet just as Tony's desk 'phone rings. He answers it and she can hear the person on the other end very clearly.

"DiNozzo."

"Is Abby up there?"

"Yeah, Boss, she's here."

"Tell her to get down to Autopsy, pronto. Hell, you and McGee had better get down here, too. Bring whatever you've got on the Garvey case."

"Sure thing -" The line goes dead. "Boss."

"Well," she says and thanks Tony when he steadies her. Must practice my yoga, she thinks as she leads the men to the elevator. "Let's go see what Ducky's found out."

Tony presses the button and holds it, as if he doesn't trust the device to remember their request.

"You don't have to do that, Tony." McGee, the ever-helpful.

The former cop gives him that Gibbs-like look and Abby wishes she had her camera. Usually she doesn't do portraits, but for Tony DiNozzo, she'll make an exception.

She pictures him in his underwear again and starts giggling. As they enter the elevator and the doors close, both men regard one another over the top of her head, bonding briefly in their shared confusion.

To Be Continued…