"Morning, McGee," Tony said as he walked into the bullpen with a cup holder filled with four steaming cups of coffee.
"Hey...I didn't realize you'd be back to work already?" McGee replied, getting up from his chair and taking the tray from Tony.
"Stay home and miss another enthralling Monday?" he replied as he took a seat at his desk. "What're you tryin' to get rid of me, Probie?"
"Is Ziva coming in too?" he asked, then turned toward the elevator when he heard it open. Ziva walked up to the bullpen, carrying her backpack. "Guess that answers my question," he leaned back in his chair. Tim was glad they were there, but concerned as well. He glanced back and forth between them for a few moments before deciding against pushing the matter even further, and pulled his chair closer to the computer to check his email
Tony watched Ziva as she sat gracefully into her desk chair and pulled a blue bottle from her backpack, sneaking it into her desk drawer before looking up at Tony. "Whatcha got there?" he grinned deviously. She was only slightly annoyed at his prying. But she ignored him, setting her pack on the floor beside her desk and pulling her chair in closer to the keyboard.
Tony stood and glanced her over as he approached her desk. She had left his house late the night before, after nearly falling asleep on his couch. And he offered her to stay, even offered to drive her, but she'd insisted that she would be fine.
Her hair was straightened and fitted with a navy blue headband that seemed to compliment her eyes. She wore a light, long-sleeved black sweater and her necklace hung outside of the turtle neck.
She looked up at him when he stood silent in front of her desk. "What do you want?" she squinted, but the corner of her mouth curled up.
"Just wondering how you're feeling this morning," he teased, but was genuinely concerned on the inside.
"And how is your headache?" she retorted. He made a face at her.
"What's in the bottle?" he pushed.
"Antacid," she replied flatly.
"Rough morning?"
"Upset stomach," she glared at him. Then she whispered, "I will not tell, if you will not tell."
"Deal," he squinted and turned to go back to his desk.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," McGee said from his desk. Tony looked over at him as he sat.
"What are your terms?" he asked.
"I'm not asking for anything in return," he glanced at his partner before looking back at his computer screen.
"You probably should, McGee," Ziva said, and he looked over at her. "I think an I owe you, is in order, don't you think, Tony?"
"Maybe a we," he retorted as he glanced at her. Her lips curled into a smile.
"Yes, we owe you," she said to Tim.
"Well you'll have to pay him back later," Gibbs said as her rounded the corner into the bullpen. "We've got a dead Navy lieutenant to attend to," he said as he grabbed his pack and fished his gun from his desk drawer.
The team didn't speak, but grabbed their gear and followed their boss silently to the elevator. "Where we headed, Boss?" Tony asked as the doors closed in front of them.
"Right around the corner..."
*~.~*
"You'd think a place like this would be safe," McGee said as he glanced over to the deceased Lieutenant who lay lifeless sprawled across his bed.
Tony snapped another picture of the body before replying, "No where is safe, Probie," he said, bringing the camera back to his eye. Tim pulled open the drawer in the nightstand and riffled through its contents.
"Comforting," he replied flatly.
"He could have killed himself," Ziva said as she picked up a prescription bottle and studied it. "These are sleeping pills and there are not many left."
"No note," Tony said after glancing at her.
"Why does there always have to be a note, Tony?" she asked as she bagged the bottle.
"People generally leave something to say goodbye. Something to let them know why they did it," he crouched down beside the bed to get a different angle of the man's face.
"Not always," she said, recalling the previous weekend. Tony didn't show his recognition of her response outwardly. But he was well aware of what she'd meant.
"Taking a bottle of pills is planning," he said as he stood. "If he did kill himself, he had been thinking about it for a while. He woulda left a note."
"True," Ducky said as he walked into the room, "In most cases, Anthony, but not everyone has someone to say goodbye to, unfortunately." The older man made his way to the side of the bed as they moved out of his way. The doctor put his gloved thumb on the man's lid to open his eye. "Pin-point pupils," he said. "Does seem to corroborate the assumption of an overdose. Of course, we'll need to get him back to autopsy and have Abigail run a toxicology screen to confirm. Otherwise, no apparent signs of struggle or defensive wounds," he said as he scanned over the body and pulled the liver probe from his bag.
Ziva turned away as he stuck the probe into the man's body. Tony glanced over to her as she opened her backpack and began riffling through it. "I should never have taken them out," she said under her breath as she realized she'd left the bottle of antacid in her desk.
"You okay?" Tony asked right before she tore out of the room in a hurry. He glanced at the two living men in the room before running out after her. "Ziva?" he called as he watched her run out of the house, and continued after her.
Gibbs had been in the living room talking to the Lieutenant's roommate when he heard Tony and glanced over to see him run out of the house. He turned back to the roommate, handing him his card. "Give me a call if you can think of anything else," he said, then turned to go after his agents.
When he found them on the side of the house, Ziva was hunched forward, throwing up in the grass as she held her ponytail away from the flow of offending substance, and supported herself against the siding of the house. Tony was standing by her, his hand on her back, waiting for the heaving to end.
He approached the agents quietly. Tony glanced up at him right before Ziva. "You okay, Ziva?" he asked.
"I am now," she said as she wiped at her mouth with her sleeve, hoping nothing was there.
"Duck said you could get nauseous with the meds," he reminded her.
"I am aware. I had something for my stomach when I came into work, but I left it at my desk. I am fine now, Gibbs," she said as she straightened up and looked at him. His gaze fell on Tony for a moment, motioning with his head for him to go back inside. He wanted to protest, but glanced at Ziva. Her eyes told him that it was okay, and he glanced at his boss briefly before walking around him and toward the house.
"You sure it's the medication that's makin' you sick?" he asked. She squinted at him in question, just for a moment, before realizing what he was implying. She looked down, away from him. "I'm only askin' 'cause you didn't tell them, and they wouldn't have given you anything as a precaution for it."
"I cannot conceive, Gibbs," she said flatly, without looking up at him. He thought for a moment at her words. She looked up at him when he was silent. "I was...severely injured before I turned twenty. I would rather not go into detail..." she said quietly.
"Did you see a doctor?" he asked with furrowed brow, pained by her news.
"I did not have to," she said, her gaze falling absently to his chest.
"How can you be sure?" he asked, and her eyes came back to his. She was clearly uncomfortable, but found no reason not to tell him. She could trust him...and should trust him.
"Since recovering all those years ago, I have not had my..." she didn't want to say out loud, what she thought he could conclude on his own from what she'd begun telling. He nodded, sympathetically, showing that he did.
*~.~*
Inside the house, Tony had heard them speaking and moved to stand next to the window, out of their line of sight. When he heard her say she could not conceive, he felt as though he shouldn't continue to listen. But he didn't move from where he stood. Something about it had made him sad. He longed to be out there, comforting her. Yet she hadn't told him this information, and it wasn't his right to listen to it.
Slowly and stealthily, he moved away from the window and back to the room where the Lieutenant's body was being put in a body bag on the gurney.
"All set, McGee?" he asked him.
"Yeah, just putting my stuff away," he said as he zipped his backpack. "Is Ziva okay?"
"Just a sick stomach," he replied and turned to walk out the door. "Got any aspirin, McGee?" he asked as the agent caught up to him.
"In my desk," he replied. "Still have that headache?"
"I can feel it starting up again..."
*~.~*
"What do ya got for me, Duck?" Gibbs asked as he strolled into autopsy toward the M.E.
"As we suspected," he began, "Lieutenant Gerald did, in fact, overdose on sleeping medication. I found no bruising or other markings that would indicate he had been in any kind of attack," he picked up the dead man's hand as Gibbs approached the table, "His hands are clean; fingernails well-kept. A rarity in his line of work. His knuckles don't show any discoloration, which would have indicated he'd been in a fight. Everything lead me to believe that it was a suicide."
"I feel a 'but' coming," Gibbs said as he smirked at the doctor.
"Indeed. But, after careful examination of his stomach contents, I didn't find any partially dissolved particles of the rather large-sized pills he'd consumed. Traces of it was left within the lining of his stomach, so it was, in fact, ingested. However, I believe the pills were crushed into a powder, and mixed with warm milk, which he voluntarily drank."
"Find it hard to believe he had trouble swallowing his meds, Duck," Gibbs said.
"Yes, it is very difficult to believe. I don't think Mr. Gerald was aware of what, exactly, he was consuming when he prepared for bed last night."
"Someone wanted him dead," Gibbs concluded.
"It's worth looking into," Ducky said as he turned to retrieve a kidney from the weigh station. "This reminds me of Belle Gunness, who in 1906 ran personal ads to lure men to her. She would poison their drinks with a little chloroform in a tumbler of whiskey, then give them a chaser of strychnine. After they would die, she would wait until dark and dismember their bodies, burying them in the back yard...well...I suppose it doesn't seem very similar to this case at all. But it did come to mind-" he turned, but Gibbs was no longer there.
"Agent Gibbs was leaving as I came in, Doctor," Palmer said as he approached the table.
"Of course," he sighed as his attention went back to the Lieutenant.
"I heard about that, though," Jimmy said with a small grin. "They never did find her, right? I believe they said she'd killed over forty people, including her own children and step-children."
"That's right, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said, a grin infecting his face at the boy's knowledge, and also glad that someone was willing to listen. "Would you mind closing him up?" he asked.
*~.~*
"What do we know about Lieutenant Dan Gerald?" Gibbs asked as he walked into the bullpen. His three agents jumped up as McGee brought the information up on the big screen.
"Daniel Gerald," McGee started, "Twenty nine years old, never married, no kids."
"Recently promoted," Ziva added, "It was a position up for two people. Gerald, and Lieutenant Timothy Andrews."
"His roommate," Gibbs concluded.
"Gerald had a girlfriend," Tony said, "Private First Class Amy Stutters. She was stationed on the U.S.S Carter. Andrews said she was due back last night in D.C."
"We were delayed," they spun around to the feminine voice that approached the bullpen. The short, dirty-blonde officer was dressed in uniform. "We just arrived this morning. I just heard..." she said with glassy eyes.
"Amy Stutters?" Gibbs asked as she stopped in front of them. She nodded.
"I know who killed Danny..."
*~.~*
"She's lying," Tony said to Ziva and McGee as they stood in the observation room watching Miss Stutters at the table.
"Why do you think that?" McGee asked.
"Gibbs isn't in there yet, number one," he said.
"And she knows something," Ziva added. "Look at her face." McGee looked back at the woman in interrogation.
"She just lost her boyfriend, Ziva. She's upset," McGee argued.
"That is not sadness on her face," she told him. "That is fear."
"She definitely killed him," Tony said.
"There's no way you could know that," McGee argued.
"Oh really? I bet you fifty bucks, she did," Tony held his hand out. Tim considered the bet for a moment, then shook on it.
*~.~*
Gibbs entered the interrogation room with a folder in his hands. The Private looked at him as he came to the table. "I don't know why you're keeping me here," she said, "I told you Lieutenant Andrews killed him. You should be out there bringing him in."
"One problem with your story, Private," he said as he sat down and opened the file, holding up a piece of paper as he glanced over the information on it. "There was a call placed from your cell phone at 19:00 hours last night," he looked at her for a reaction, "To Lieutenant Andrews. And then he called you at 21:37. Care to tell me what that call was about?"
"I-I was looking for Danny," she said. Her eyes became red, "He wasn't answering his phone so I called Tim to see if he was home with him. And uh...he said when he got home, he'd have him call me back."
"Did he?" Gibbs asked, "Call you back?"
"Yes...he called and didn't talk for long. I told him how we would be delayed...and that I'd see him today."
Gibbs squinted at her as he glared. "You sure that's the story you wanna tell me?" he said calmly. She furrowed a brow at him without response. Then she looked down at the table top. "You're sure you talked to Danny Gerald on the phone last night?" he raised his voice.
"Yes!" she yelled back.
"Gerald was dead before that, Amy," he said, squinting at her. "You think we wouldn't be able to figure that out?"
"What are you trying to say?" she said, angrily, "I didn't kill Danny. I wasn't there."
"No, you weren't. But Andrews was. Were you sleeping with him?"
"What? What kind of question is that?"
"I'm trying to figure out why he would consider killing your boyfriend for you."
"I..."
"You called him and told him to make it look like a suicide...and he called you when he knew it was done," his tone didn't change. He simply watched her. She blinked...
"I want a lawyer..."
"Of course you do," he said and stood.
*~.~*
"Yes!" Tony made an exaggerated stance of victory, "I knew it! Pay up, Probie," he held his hand out.
"Technically she didn't actually kill him, Tony," McGee argued.
"She put the hit out on him. Same thing," Tony said.
"It's not the s-" he stopped and pursed his lips, knowing full well Tony would not back down. "Fine," he pulled out his wallet, "You were half right...so you get twenty-five." Tony squinted at him and Ziva laughed through her nose as she watched McGee put a twenty and a five in his palm.
*~.~*
The next morning...
McGee and Abby stood in front of Tony's desk, a smile painting each of their faces as they watched him sleep. His head was wedged up against the black filing cabinet, and in his lap he held a folder flipped open towards the middle.
"He's like a cute little baby when he's sleeping," Abby grinned as she spoke quietly to Tim.
"We should write something on his forehead," McGee smirked.
"That would be totally mean, Tim," she glanced at him.
"What are you talking about?" he defended, "I still have no idea what they did to me when I fell asleep at my desk..."
"We did nothing, McGee," they turned as Ziva walked into the bullpen with her backpack. "That was the point; to make you think we did." She set her backpack down and joined them, realizing Tony was asleep. "He has been here all night?" she asked, surprised, but noticing the three empty coffee cups in his trash bin.
"Guess so," McGee said. "Wonder what he was working on," he started to walk around the desk, but the phone started ringing at Ziva's desk, and Tony jumped awake in his chair; the file falling from his lap and scattering on the floor beneath him.
"Son of a..." Tony got down off the chair and started picking up the pages, then glancing to his left to see McGee and Abby standing over him.
"Need some help, Tony?" McGee grinned. Tony made a face at him, but the agent bent down to assist him anyway.
Ziva grinned as she took her seat and looked over at the caller ID on the phone. Her smile faded when she read it, and she picked it up, "Agent David," she answered in a small voice. "Yes, this is she."
"Thanks, I got it, Probie," Tony said as he straightened the papers. Tim stood and went to his desk.
"I'm gonna head downstairs, guys," Abby said as she stood, "Thanks for the comical morning, Tony," she grinned at him.
"Oh, he's not that funny, Abs," Gibbs said as he walked into the bullpen.
"Thank you, Boss," Tony said, then squinted, "I think..." Gibbs smirked as he took a seat and he glanced at Ziva who was still on the phone.
"Thank you so much," Ziva said and hung up the phone, taking a cleansing breath as she met Gibbs' eyes. "That was Bethesda," she said. Tony paused and looked over at her. "The test was negative," she smiled. Smiles of relief washed over the faces of her team.
"That's great news, Ziva," McGee said. She gave him an appreciative grin and her gaze went to Tony. His eyes showed such relief as they bore into hers from where he knelt. But a realization came into her thoughts; where was his call?
Then, suddenly, his phone rang and startled him. All eyes turned to his phone as he stood, placing the folder down on his desk before looking at the ID. "It's Bethesda," he grinned at Ziva, then picked it up. "Tony DiNozzo," he answered.
Ziva shared a glance with Gibbs, who was still smirking in her direction, happy that his agents were getting this good news. Their eyes went back to Tony as they heard him speak again.
"What, exactly, does that mean?" he had spun his chair around, facing away from them, and only McGee could see his profile as he listened to the phone at his ear with his eyes closed. "Okay..." he said quietly, "Okay, thanks," he pulled the phone away and sat there for a moment before turning his chair around and placing the phone on the hook.
"Tony?" Ziva asked, concern washing over her again. He didn't look at her.
"Need to use the head," he said, emotionless, as he stood and quickly exited the bullpen. Ziva looked at Gibbs as he watched his agent disappear into the men's room, then looked over at her. Her eyes masked the sudden fear in his own. And he stood to from his desk and headed toward where his agent had fled to.
*~.~*
Tony splashed cool water onto his face over the sink. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and tried to concentrate on calming himself down; willing the bile to subside back down from his throat. He leaned there over the sink with his eyes closed, focusing on the sound of the running water until it was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He turned the knob to stop the water and reached up for a paper towel, briefly glancing at the reflection of his boss as he entered the room.
"What'd they say, DiNozzo?" he asked as calmly as he could, leaning back on the wall across from the mirror.
"Just needed a minute, Boss," he said and ran the towel over his face. "Wanted to let Ziva enjoy her good news for a little while."
"What're you sayin' to me? What'd they tell you?" his brow furrowed at Tony's reflection. Tony threw the balled up towel into the trash and turned around, leaning back on the counter.
"They said I need to come in for another test," he said, smirking. "Not sure what that means exactly," he looked down. "But I thought for sure..." he swallowed. "When Ziva got that call...I thought I'd be hearing the same thing."
"Doesn't mean it was positive, Tony," his boss tried to give him comforting words as he shifted where he stood.
"Well, it couldn't have been negative, right?" he looked up at him. Gibbs didn't know what to say.
"I don't know," he said finally. "When do they want you to go in?"
"Soon as I can," he replied, looking back down to the floor.
"You shouldn't put it off," he told him. "You should go now." Tony shook his head.
"I'm scared, Boss," his voice cracked, and Gibbs was moved at his confession.
"Might not be a reason for that," he said and Tony looked back up at him in question. "You should go downstairs; talk to Ducky. Tell him what they said to you. Maybe he can give you some insight on what it means."
Tony searched the air between them for a moment. "I just don't want Ziva to worry... She's been through enough."
"Too late for that, Tony," he said, and Tony met his eyes again. "She's gonna worry, just like you would if it was her. You're gonna have to have some hope. If you don't, she'll know. And she'll be just as scared." Tony considered his words. He knew Gibbs was right. He pushed up off of the counter and stood for a moment as he looked back at his boss. "I'll talk to Ziva," Gibbs told him.
Tony nodded, accepting his words. Gibbs turned to walk out, and he followed behind him, parting ways once they exited the bathroom. Tony took the stairs, and Gibbs headed into the bullpen; Ziva looked at him once Tony disappeared into the stairwell.
He looked at her as he continued past her desk, signaling her with his finger, to follow him. She stood, briefly glancing at McGee before following Gibbs into the elevator. McGee felt frustrated as he was left alone in the bullpen wondering what was happening, but not being given any answers...
*~.~*
Gibbs waited for the elevator to start moving before turning the emergency switch, bringing the lift to a halt. "What did he say?" Ziva asked him, her eyes pleading with his, revealing the fear she felt clearly.
"Doesn't want you to worry about him," he began. "And you shouldn't yet."
"Why? What did they tell him?"
"He has to go in for another test."
"What...what does that mean?" she searched the air between them.
"I'm not sure, Ziva," he felt his plan backfiring, as he, himself, was uncertain what to believe. He'd told Tony to have hope, or she wouldn't. And there he was, feeling nothing but fear himself...
"This is not fair," she said, turning away from him to hide her eyes. "It is not fair that this is happening to him..."
"He wants you to be happy," he told her. He walked around to face her again, putting his hands on her arms, "You can't lose hope, Ziva... You're the only one he's gonna draw that from."
She looked at him, letting the words absorb into her mind. And though it would be difficult, she knew that if nothing else, she could pretend she wasn't terrified...
*~.~*
Ziva went to his apartment that evening after work. He had gone home after talking to Ducky, and hadn't come back up to get his things. She held his backpack as she knocked on the door. He opened it only a few moments later. And her mouth curled up into a smile as she held out his pack.
-So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn, there's vultures and thieves at your back...-
"You left this," she said.
He gently reached out to take it from her. "Thanks," he said softly, returning a small smile.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he smirked. "Nothing to worry about."
-And the storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lie that you make up for all that you lack...-
Her eyes darted back and forth between his. Then she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek against his shoulder. His eyes closed as he held her to him... It was only for a moment, then he pulled gently away, taking her hand in his and leading into the apartment.
-It don't make no difference, escaping one last time...-
They didn't speak as they sat down on the couch, but he rested his head on hers as she held his hands. And their gaze fell on the glowing screen in front of them, though neither of them were watching it, really.
-It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees...-
She felt his breath change as he held back the tears that wanted traitorously to fall, and she pulled away to look at his face. His eyes were red and glassy and didn't focus on hers until her hands went to his face, trying to give him the strength he needed; trying to take away his fears and uncertainty.
-In the arms of the angel, fly away from here, from this dark cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you feel...-
She leaned in closer and kissed him; kissed his lips, then his cheek, his forehead. His eyes drifted closed as the tears unwittingly streaked down his cheeks. It took everything in her not to cry with him. She pulled him back to her and let his head rest on her shoulder.
-You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie...you're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort here...-
tbc...