Tony waited for Ziva to continue, but all she was doing was standing there smirking. Stupid smirk, he thought angrily.
"Well, what is it?" he demanded finally.
"Touchy, aren't we?" Ziva said, exchanging a look with McGee. "Hello," Tony wanted to scream, "standing right here!! Get on with it!" She started the video.
"This is the bar you and Abby were at last night," she explained, "and-" Noticing Tony's furious glare, McGee interrupted her, cutting to the chase.
"The bartender drugged your drinks." He pointed to the screen where the man clearly added some kind of powder to their beers.
"So what kind of drug is it?" Tony asked.
"Abby's running it now. While you were, uh, gone, we picked up our guy," McGee informed him.
"Why didn't we let the local police get him?"
"Because of this," Ziva told him, fast-forwarding the tape and freezing it on an image.
"Our dead guy," Tony said. It was all beginning to make sense. "So this powder, it-"
"From what we can tell, it pretty much screws up your brain chemistry, evoking rash decisions and spontaneity. It seems to be about a hundred times worse than getting drunk, minus the hangover," McGee explained. "Tests should be done soon."
"How long was I gone?" Tony asked, rubbing his neck off-handedly.
Half an hour later, Gibbs came into the bullpen. He glanced at Tony as he came in, well not as much glanced, but scowled.
"DiNozzo, go get the lab results from Abby," he ordered. Tony sighed, even though he knew he was innocent of any foul play, he was still afraid to face her, especially with what happened last time.
"Maybe McGee shou-" Tony began, but Gibbs interrupted him.
"Go. Now." He was using his most dangerous voice, so Tony went, resignedly getting up from his desk and heading slowly for the elevator.
"Today, DiNozzo," his boss called after him, and he quickened his pace.
The elevator ride seemed to fly by, something it never did when he was late, and in moments he was outside of the lab. He heard a muffled sobbing from inside, and bracing himself, he walked in. He immediately spotted Abby, sitting at one of her computers, tears flowing freely down her face. She saw him right away, and hurriedly wiped her eyes.
"Oh, uh, hey," she said, sniffing slightly. "I guess you, uh, want those lab results." He nodded, not quite knowing what to say or do to make it all better, and hating himself for it.
"Well, uh, McGee was right about everything. The bartender was testing this as a new, uh, drug. That's why he put it in our, uh, drinks," she explained. "It metabolizes quickly, leaving the, uh, user, with no memory of what happened, and no traces of it in their system."
"Oh, well that's, uh, good, right?" he asked. She shrugged, so figuring she was done, he turned to leave.
"Tony, I-I'm sorry," she called after him, he stopped and turned around. Suddenly he had his arms around her and she was crying again.
"It's okay," he said, holding her close. "You shouldn't be apologizing, I should. I let you down." She pulled away from him enough to look him in the eye.
"I-I doubted you. I didn't trust you. I thought that you'd, and then I yelled at you, and-and-"
"No," he told her firmly. "You thought that because of me, because of how I act, my reputation. You know me too well."
"Will you forgive me?" she asked, laying her head on his chest.
"There's nothing to forgive," he told her, fingering her pigtails. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll let you buy me a drink." She smiled at him, the last remnants of tears fading from her eyes.
"Don't you think we should stay away from drinking for awhile?" she asked, and he smiled. "I know this great goth club down the road." Tony's grin faltered for a moment.
"Or a movie," she suggested, taking pity on him after a moment of watching him flounder for words.
"A movie would be great," he agreed finally. His smile was bigger than ever, and he realized that everything was back to normal, or as normal as it ever would be with Abby.