Authors Note: I don't update this story often, though people believe that my knowledge in NCIS's characters is adequate, I am still cautious before I write something. Plus I started a writing course. I have to critique other writing pieces and write my own. I've decided to remove the McAbby pairing. I love their relationship as it is, and I don't want to tamper with it in any way. HOWEVER that doesn't mean I'm letting McGee stay single in this story ;) I thank those reviewing my story, I LIVE off of reviews. The more reviews, the happier I am and the more motivated I am to write! Please continue to review! :)
[DECEPTION IS THY NAME]
Chapter 2 - Ghost
NCIS Building
"Update," Gibbs insists several hours later as the early stretch of the evening began. He gazes at his computer screen, but when no one says anything, he looks at his team,"Well?"
"No luck boss," McGee answers. Goody two shoe...Tony wanted to drill a hole through the back of his head, "we've covered every department within a twenty mile radius of the crime scene. No one sells the rope."
"Its the only lead we had," Pammie states, "we couldn't find the victims belongings, including his socks. The rain washed away most of the crime scene," She pauses, crossing her arms over her chest "I'm still certain I've seen that tatoo on our victims body before...if only I could remember where…"
"What do we do now boss?" McGee asks, "we don't have anymore leads. Not until Ducky gets an ID. Or Abby finishes her skin analysis."
"Go home," Vance interrupts from outside the bullpen, "there's nothing you can do here. We're not paying you to sit around."
Everyone goes silent, Gibbs stares at Vance for a moment. It was like one of those old fashioned western showdowns, and it brought a smile to Tony's lips, "Go home."
McGee frowns, "But boss-"
"I'll call when Ducky ID's the body," Tony could sense Gibbs hesitation and annoyance. "Go home. Get some sleep. We'll start up in the morning." Tony and McGee exchange glances. This was odd. Gibbs agreeing to send his team home when some work still had to be done...even if they couldn't figure out what it was at the moment.
They gather their things and walk towards the elevator, "Since when has director Vance wanted us to leave?" Pammie whispers.
"He's out to get me," Tony glares, "I can tell. That mustache of his is just longing to grab a gun and…"
"The director is not out to get you, Tony" McGee replies, "he's probably upset about the budget cuts."
Pammie frowns,"Budget cuts?"
"Yup, Budget cuts." Everyone piles into the elevator. Pammie doesn't hesitate to push the ground button.
Tony tilts his head, "And where did you hear this?"
The door closes and the elevator starts descending. McGee frowns,"I'm not telling you."
"Can't or won't."
McGee glares at Tony, "I overheard a conversation."
"A conversation?" Tony smirks.
"In the elevator," McGee looks at Pammie, "apparently someone in the financial department lost some of our money."
"Ouch," Tony pretends to shudder, "I'd hate to be that person right now."
"Did they know who?"
"No," McGee shrugs his shoulders, "but our new computer order was cancelled,"
"What!?" Pammie's eyes widen.
"New computers? Since when were we getting new computers?"
McGee looks at Tony, "Since last week. Didn't you get the email?"
"Well I wouldn't be asking if I did."
Pammie pushes in before McGee can answer, "We were SUPPOSE to get new computers this week. Something about improved software that required more...something, something."
"Gigabytes and Ram. The new software was too much for our current systems, so they were providing us with more efficient computers to improve our work."
"And now its not happening," Pammie mutters, "stupid budget cuts. I was looking forward to a new computer..."
"Faster facial recognition software. Better specs. There were some games too…"
"Games?" Tonys head whips in McGee's direction, "what games?"
"I don't know. Some new mini-games or something…" He frowns, "I thought you didn't like video games."
"YOUR video games. Computer games...are different."
"Different how? And what's wrong with my games?"
"They just are."
"What's wrong with McGee's games?" Pammie pushes. Probably because Tony didn't answer McGee's question before. He had done it on purpose; knowing full well that he had played McGee's games before. A contradiction.
"They're violent."
"So?" She tilts her head.
"So? They're violent. They create violent tendencies."
McGee "Do I look violent to you?"
"Do I look violent?" Pammie repeats..
The elevator halts; doors opening. The three of them walk out of the elevator, "You play violent video games?"
"Yes, I do."
"That explains a lot," Tony murmurs.
Pammie frowns, "What..?"
"Oh look, there's my car. Gotta go, bye!" And Tony runs off before Pammie can think about saying anything else to him.
The Restaurant
The long day was finally beginning to hit Tony as he sat at a small table. The other tables in the restaurant are full. For once he wanted to go home, crawling back sounded better than sitting there listening to some woman brag about her personal life. He wore a tuxedo, black stripes with a white shirt and black pants. His outfit was similar to the one he had this morning. The only difference was the whiteout stain he got earlier while attempting to white out a mistake he had made on his report. But he found himself in a chain of misfortunes as a result. His first mistake was deciding that it was too hard and exhausting to reprint his report after discovering he had accidentally misspelled Gibbs name...Gribbs didn't look very appealing. Tonys second mistake was letting his guard down, allowing Pammie to go all crazy on him while he concentrated on getting rid of his mistake with McGee's whiteout. His third mistake...using McGee's whiteout.
He should have seen it coming. Pammie's usual tactics; scaring him randomly as he attempted to prank McGee, messing something up, scheming to make his life miserable. Of course it had almost ruined his evening. His time was strained with an unplanned trip home to quickly change into a new suit...otherwise he would have gone on his date with a random white splotch on his black jacket.
Ziva was different. While she would sometimes ruin his pranks, there were times when she would agree with him...and an the odd occasion when she would attempt to prank him. It was fun, like a game of cat a mouse. Without that, life in the office was difficult at first….all the words of his coworkers spoke did not matter. Over time it got easier, he started finding it easier to listen to everyone as they spoke, words would sink in and not go into one ear and jump out the other. But his heart was still a little empty...like something was missing.
Yet he could sit there on a date. He could glance over the beautiful women in the room. He was able to forget. For now.
"...Tony?"
A voice snaps him out of his train of thought, "What?" The owner of the voice sat across the table, "Oh, sorry. You know restaurants, so much chatter."
She looks at him, "Have you ever been in a relationship? A REAL relationship."
"That depends," He pursed his lips. This topic made him wanna jump out of his his seat and run away...maybe adding in some joke to make things interesting. Instead, he sits there.
"Listening is part of a real relationship," The girl states, flicking her blue hair behind her shoulders, "so I'll talk. You listen," Before he could say anything else, the woman started to babble. At first the words stuck, and he could hear everything she said. But after a while, his mind started to wander again. The words had nothing more than a shallow meaning. Less, even.
His eyes wander towards the other guests. On the far side of the restaurant is an elderly woman with a large hat and glasses. She reminded Tony of the stereotypical old grandmother baking cookies and singing nursery rhymes, he chuckled silently at the thought. His eye caught on to another table closer to where he sat. A young caucasian couple held hands on the table, their mouths didn't move. They stare at each other, mesmerized and not bothering to notice that he was staring at them. Tony rolls his eyes.
But, behind his date, on the other side of the restaurant something caught his eye. He could not see it entirely, the person was sitting with their back to them at a booth. The top of a head belonging to a female was visible. Her hair was wavy, and fell on to either side of her neck. He couldn't see anything else besides the face of the man that sat across from her. The man was tan with black hair and mustache, small eyes and jawbone. The only clothing Tony could see was a black collar that he assumed went with the black tuxedo.
"...you? Tony?"
Tony looks at his date, "Yes."
"Have you ever been in a serious relationship?"
"Can we have the cheque please?" Tony asks the waiter passing by their table. The waiter nods and smiles, "I hope you weren't planning on dessert because I need to go home. Have this big thing planned."
"Answer the question."
She was insistent, but Tony could feel his back tense up at the thought of describing any...serious relationship he had been in, so he ignores her. The waiter passes him the cheque and he throws slaps money on top, "Keep the change." The waiter nods.
"Time to go."
The Parking Lot
He rounded the corner, keeping an eye out for any incoming traffic. It is silent in the car, but Tony didn't care. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to sleep. Tony put more pressure on the gas pedal. Home...the word was a melody to his ear.
"Tony!" His date exclaims, snapping him out of his train of thought...again. Tony slammed on the brakes, his car stopping two inches behind another, and he groaned in frustration, "Really? C'mon!"
"Don't act like that Tony," The woman in the passenger seat whines, "take me home."
"What a good idea," Tony replies sarcastically, "...oh wait, I can't because we're stuck in a traffic jam."
"Okay, okay. You don't have to be sarcastic," The woman looks out her window, "what in the world is that person doing?"
Tony follows her gaze towards a small, blue car a few cars away from them. Despite the traffic, it was trying to maneuver around the cars and push its way towards the front, "I don't know. Maybe they're having some temperamental issues." Car honks echo in the night,
"As long as they don't come over here..." His date states, staring at her reflection in her pocket mirror.
He took his focus away from the deranged driver. It didn't matter that much to him, at leat enough to keep his mind away from going to sleep. A bed would be nice; falling on top of it and instantly falling into a deep slumber seems so far away. His limbs were like lead already.
"Careful!" Tony's date exclaims. He turns his gaze, staring at the vehicle beside him...that use to be several cars away. The blue vehicle was now beside them, trying to get in between him and the car in front. But Tony wouldn't allow it. He grinds his teeth and hit some of acceleration quickly, releasing not too long after to avoid hitting the car ahead of them as the traffic pulled forward.
But the car did the same. Tony glares, "Its war." He tightened his grip around the steering wheel, and didn't take his gaze away from the blue car, "You ain't getting past me," Tony turns to his date, "Fasten your seatbelts. Its going to be a bumpy night," Silence, "Bette Davis and Anne Baxter? All About Eve?"
"Don't care."
"Well aren't you a little ray of sunshine."
Suddenly something caught his eye. He glances back at the car and frowns, there was something familiar about the driver in the driver seat...it was the woman from the restaurant. She still looked familiar, but the slight tint in the window made it impossible to see anything past the outline of her figure. Tony couldn't pinpoint what it was, maybe the way the person sat...or the outline of their face, top of their head. Before he could pinpoint why the driver looked so familiar, the car had pulled in front of him and left the parking lot of the restaurant.