AN: Sincere apologies for the long delay – I think it's very bad manners to not post anything for more than a week, I can only plead the most hectic spell of RL I've encountered in months. And tonight, when I finally thought my head was clear, I'd enough coffee to keep me going, and coherent ideas to boot – I skyped with my daughter for almost 2 hours, so here it is, wee small hours again.

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 3

"Well, I still think it's Agent Gibbs," a voice in the corner of the break room hissed. A determined gossip never gives up after all.

"No, it isn't," her friend insisted. "Tina went past a few moments after Molly, and she said that Agent DiNozzo told the Director that they didn't know who the father was. But it's got to be Officer David, whatever he says, cuz we can't find anything out about anyone else DiNozzo's been seeing. And anyway, I don't think he's seeing the girl any more, he's seeing lots of other women – Tina said he told the team it was costing him a fortune in dates!"

"No, it's not Officer David." Molly the Mole of the Mail Room dropped into the chair beside them, scraping the legs along the floor and making the two evidence clerks wince. "Someone sent Agent DiNozzo some photos, and David didn't react to either of them, although she said they were both very handsome. And DiNozzo said one of them was the father, but they wouldn't know which until the baby arrived, but then it'd be clear." She preened at being the one to impart such delicious new information.

"Oh wow," the determined gossip breathed delightedly. "That must mean they're of different ethnic groups... I wish we knew who the girl was though!"

"There's more," Molly said gleefully. "Agent DiNozzo's really angry, because I heard him saying he's going to make him pay!"

NCISNCISNCIS

After originally intending to return to DC straight away, Tony had borrowed Liz's truck and gone to talk to the car hire firm in Charlottesville, but they could tell him nothing. If they suspected driving licenses were fake, they didn't ask. "We don't. Staff shouldn't have to take the sort of abuse they get if they voice their suspicions. All our vehicles are fitted with trackers; we can retrieve them – and we'd rather have our staff safe."

They'd given him all they could, including vague descriptions of the men, but it wasn't much. Tim meanwhile had dashed into Culpepper and bought a few things, and Liz now had the panic button he'd promised her. He also brought her back an unregistered cell phone, and arranged with his new friends at the local police headquarters to have one number that she could call with it if one of the mysterious vehicles turned up in the parking lot.

"They won't recognise either number if they're monitoring them," he'd explained, "they'll just think it's a customer calling home, so they won't be spooked into leaving before the police get here. Let's see if we can't catch a fly, and get some answers from it."

"I foresee a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between here and Virginia," Tim concluded ruefully, as he filled the Boss and Ziva in on the events in Virginia.

They'd got back late, and Gibbs had told them to go straight home and get some sleep, and report first thing in the morning, so they did so over the usual breakfast out of paper sacks..

Tony said in a dramatic, accusing tone, "So, Boss, your fans in the local PD will arrest the guys if you ask them to? And deliver them to us? I'm so sorry, to you?"

Tim grinned. "They'll hold anyone they pick up until we can collect them, Tony. I couldn't talk them into doing our transport for us."

"Ah. Like you said, a lot of back and forth. Hey... maybe I can drop in to see Doris?"

Gibbs just grimaced. He wasn't entirely pleased with what he'd heard, but really needed to talk to his SFA alone about it.

The mail cart was trundled by, and a stiff A4 envelope appeared on Tony's desk. Curious, he picked it up, then grinned. The writing was Sally Frame's. Tony extracted two beautiful glossy photos, and studied them, and the accompanying note, with a broad smile. Ziva immediately came to his elbow, and he made no attempt to stop her.

"My," she said approvingly, "they are both very handsome."

Tim looked curious, and so did Gibbs, so Tony spread the photos on the Boss's desk and beckoned McGee over as well. "They are," the young agent agreed. "They're very different looking."

"Very," Tony said. "One of them's the father. We won't know which until Junior arrives, but I'd say it'll be pretty obvious then." He shot a glance towards the elevator, where Molly from the mail room had stopped her cart and was fussing with something, and indicated Sally's letter. "I can make the father pay." Molly seemed to feel that she couldn't stand there fiddling any longer without being made; she had no idea she'd been sussed already. She hurried away, and Tony, Tim and Ziva exchanged wicked grins.

"Pay?" Gibbs asked, amiably for him. He was sitting down, and couldn't see the mail trolley from where he was, although none of the other three would have bet on him not knowing what was going on.

"Well, yeah. If you want the services of a stallion, you have to pay a stud fee, obviously. But if that stallion is unsupervised, and puts your mare in foal without your permission, if she needs veterinary care, you can claim the fees from the owner. Sally and Amos both feel she'll be fine... but as you can see, I'll know who to bill!"

Ziva picked the photos up again, although she was still looking towards the elevator.

"It's OK, she's gone," Tim told her.

"Gone?" Gibbs was beginning to feel like a parrot.

"Molly the Mole. Don't tell me you haven't heard the gossip, Boss."

"Oh, I've heard, DiNozzo."

"Well, since Ziva got the sticky end of it before, seems only fair that she should start some this time."

Gibbs didn't reply, simply raised his eyes to heaven as Ziva studied the photos again.

The two studs Sally had mailed the pictures of were indeed different; Calumet was a tall, tobiano patterned American Saddlebred, bright bay and white, with a black mane and tail that reached to the ground. Blacktown Boxer was not so tall, but muscular and powerful, a perfect example of the Quarter Horse. He was dark chestnut, like Doris, but had a mane and tail of burnished bronze, one white sock, and a white star on his forehead.

"They are both valuable animals, yes? And Doris is a Morgan?"

"Again, pure-bred. Amos didn't know that when he bought her, just liked the look of her. He knew by the time he sold her to me, he'd traced her back; wouldn't accept more than he paid though – sort of guy he is."

Ziva nodded. "The foal will be the best of two good breeds. It will be valuable, Tony."

"I guess. Don't tell Adam though, or he won't accept."

"Accept?" Now it was Ziva's turn to echo Tony's words.

"Yeah. Don't say anything, guys... all being well, I'm going to give him the foal as soon as the time's right. What would I do with two horses?"

They were all silent – it seemed Tony could still surprise them. In the end, Gibbs said "You can't ride two at once... now, Miz Gunnerson?"

"There is some physical evidence from the bar brawl," Ziva said. "Although NCIS was informed, the case was Metro's, and Cardoza was dealt with by his CO. Metro have agreed to let us have what they still keep, I have offered to collect it personally."

"Nice work. Yeah, go."

"I have a long list of Cardoza's associates, Boss; I'm running searches on all of them. Abby's running the physical evidence in the hope there's a link to one of them, and I've a call booked in MTAC in -" he glanced at his watch - "two minutes, to speak with his CO from the time he disappeared, and a PO who served in two different ships with him. They were both in armaments, and he's the only one I can find who might have known him well enough to give us any insight."

Gibbs nodded approvingly, and looked towards the stairs. As soon as McGee had disappeared, Tony was in front of the Boss's desk. "What's bugging you?"

The Marine threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "How d'you think this promotion of McGee's is goin' to play out?"

"And why didn't I put a stop to it?"

"Not what I asked. You wouldn't rat him out... but it can't go on."

"I know, Boss. I don't know if he's thought what Madison PD's going to collectively think when they find out they've been played... but he thought it was a good idea at the time, and not from the point of view of putting one over on me – and it got results. Short-term. I thought of keeping up the charade – whatever he may think, I know I tease him on the team, but I didn't want to embarrass him in front of the locals." He sighed. "The thing is, I was kind of happy that he'd used his initiative... but it could do more harm than good."

"So what d'you think the answer is?"

"For him to tell them the truth... but if I tell him that he'll think it's just me not liking the fact that he stuck one past me – and it's not, Boss. I was cool with it."

"Ya want me to talk to him?"

Tony pursed his lips. "DiNozzos are not indecisive... I dunno... no, Boss, I let him do it, it's down to me to fix it."

Gibbs frowned. "Ya didn't let him do it. And I see why ya did let him get away with it. Kinda wish I'd seen your face..."

"Boss!"

"But yeah, needs fixin'."

Tony was about to say 'on it, Boss', when his desk phone rang. "DiNozzo... they have? Anyone you recognise? No, just go on as normal, don't endanger yourselves, we'll take care of it. Can you copy the driver's licence without arousing suspicion? You did? Yeah, it's coming through now... and...hey, the documents – thanks for that. No, it's a big help, really. Thanks."

He put the phone down, and Gibbs said,"Someone just hired a car with blacked out windows."

"Yeah, Boss, two men, and they suspected the licence was fake, so as soon as they'd gone, they called me. Like McGee said, to-ing and fro-ing."

"Go pick them up... take McGee again. I'll check what you were sent against what's come up so far in the searches. You can alert the locals on your way. "

"They'll already know, Boss. The hire firm know to call them once they've called us; to make sure someone's there to protect Liz." He chuckled. "Probie left them instructions to stay out of sight unless they were needed – not to go in with lights and sirens like last time..." he saw Gibbs' raised eyebrow. "I got it, Boss. It'll be fixed." He puled his cell from his pocket, and the ringtone jangled just as he was about to press speed dial. "Yeah, McGee? Yeah, I know, they called us. Your friends called you? No, it's fine. You ready to go?"

"Right here," Tim called, as he ran down the stairs from the mezzanine, and they left in a hurry.

Tony rang Liz to warn her; "Carry on as normal, don't ring the police, they know already. I'll call Simon and ask him to keep you company until we get there." After that, he concentrated on his driving; he knew that the two men in the hire car could get there before them unless they hurried and the bad guys didn't, but he also knew that this was the opportunity he needed to have the conversation with Tim that he didn't want to have. He lost count of the number of times he took a deep breath and then let it out again and concentrated on the road.

Tim said suddenly, "I 'fessed up."

The car lurched a little as Tony's foot twitched on the gas pedal. "You did? You did. I should have known... here's me been worrying about how to tell you you should. When? What did they say?"

Tim looked sheepish. "Remember I got back from Culpepper before you got back from Charlottesville? I'd been thinking all the way that although it had been a kind of neat idea, it was still a slight exaggeration -" Tony let out a bark of laughter - "OK, a barefaced lie, and it couldn't stay like that. They'd think they'd been played for fools; manipulated – bad idea. So I came straight out and told Inspector Bale as soon as I saw him. Said it was a misunderstanding , but although it was nice to outrank you for once, I couldn't keep it up. He laughed, and said..." he went a bit pink.

"And said?"

"He said it was a smart way of getting things done, and he'd heard about what I did at the gas station siege, and he liked my nerve."

"Well... that's all good, then. You really have made a friend..." He held up a finger and said sententiously, "A wise decision; honesty is the best policy, young Tim -" and then it struck him. "Wait a minute...You told him yesterday? And you're only just telling me now?"

"Um... yes."

"You enjoyed your promotion that much?"

Tim threw caution to the wind. "Oh, yeah," he said with a grin. Then it was his turn to be whacked by an unwelcome thought. "Ah... You wanted to tell me. You knew I'd done the wrong thing."

Tony decided to leave Gibbs out of it; at least for now – it wouldn't help Tim to know the Boss had disapproved too. "Well, not wrong, exactly... It was never going to be practical, even though it was fun. For you, that is! You were right that if they'd found out they'd been manipulated – and all it would have taken was an innocent phone call to the Yard – that would have been the end of any co-operation with us. Hey, I should have realised that you'd realised."

"Supervisory Special Agent McGee... it was great while it lasted," Tim said soulfully, and this time Tony's laugh was easy and genuine.

"You'll be Director one day, McGibbs," he said cheerfully. "SSA will seem pretty old-hat then. Now, use that Supervisory McBrain of yours to ring Liz and see if she's got a visitor yet."

"We're good then?"

"Aren't we always? Now, do we take this oh-so-easily recognisable fedmobile behind the building to the delivery entrance, or do we have to leave it up the road?"

Liz answered at once, sounding a bit nervous. "No, Tim, they're not here yet – do you really think they'll come?" Tony drove the last five hundred yards really fast, not wanting to appear at the same moment that the bad guys came from the other direction, and screeched to a halt out of sight between the kitchen door and the wheelie bins. Min opened the door for them, then locked it behind them. "You hurry." He picked up a cleaver in one hand and a long meat skewer in the other. "I'm ready, you bet."

"Mn, you stay in the kitchen if things happen, and guard that back door. You might just find all the customers in there with you. You take care of them."

They put their badges and guns in their jacket pockets, hid their holsters, and sat at a window table in their shirt-sleeves, drinking coffee like any pair of travellers, while Simon sat at another table, ostensibly engrossed in his lap-top, ready to steer the other customers into the kitchen if necessary. Tim reported that Inspector Bale's men were ready to drive up and block the entrance to the parking lot as soon as they were called. They waited.

They were almost taken by surprise, as Gibbs called to say they had an ID on the driver. Just as he was saying the name, and revealing a long history of small time activity, the dark GMC swung into the lot. "They're here, Boss, gotta go," Tony said, and disconnected hastily.

He and Tim put plan A into action; the intimidating visitors had never attempted to enter the restaurant before, and they weren't going to get the chance to change their methods now. Tony sauntered towards Simon's Denali as if it were his own; on the other side of the lot, Tim was heading for another car, idly dangling a key fob from his fingers. He looked up the road, and tossed the keys up in the air and caught them again, and the two police cars that had crept out of hiding as soon as the GMC was in the car park, purred quietly forward to block the entrance.

This clearly alarmed the driver, as he threw the door open and jumped out, only to be met by Tim's Sig aimed between his eyes. "Don't move, Mr. Prater, if that's your real name." Mr Prater didn't move. On the other side of the SUV his passenger, faced with Tony's gun, raised his hands slowly. The rear door on the same side flew open, and Tony had to jump for it to avoid being flattened, and his prisoner decided to run, heading in the opposite direction from the woman who emerged from the back of the vehicle.

Damn; nobody had mentioned a third person. Tim took the time to cuff the driver to his steering wheel, which gave the wiry, long-legged man a head start, but the agent set off at an angle to head him off. Tony caught up with the woman in three long strides, only to have her swing her shoulder bag at him by its long strap. The way it whistled through the air he wondered if it had a brick in it; when it caught his upper arm slightly he knew it had. She swung it again, and he caught the strap, wrenched it out of her hand, and swung it at her knees. She went down in a heap, swearing in a most unladylike manner.

Tony hauled her to her feet and cuffed her. She was latino, young, late teens, he thought. "Hey, does your mother know you use language like that?" That simply provoked another mouthful.

Tim, breathing hard, and with a slight bruise on his right cheek, brought his prisoner back, assisted by Simon, who'd dashed out as soon as he'd seen what was going down, and in spite of Tony's lecture about unarmed civilians. Up on the terrace diners were standing, having come out of the cafe to take photos of the exciting action.

Liz came hesitantly down the steps. "Have you seen any of these people before, Ms Gunnerson?" Tony asked formally, wondering if any of them had actually visited the diner before to gather information.

Liz looked first at the two men. She frowned at the driver. "Maybe... weeks ago, though, not recently." There was no sign of recognition of the wiry man, but when she looked at the girl, she went a bit pale. "I... no, it can't be..."

"Liz? What is it?"

"She... this child... she looks like Ray."

"I should do," the girl snapped. "I'm Angelica Cardoza, his daughter. And I want to know where the bastard is."

TBC

AN: Only read through once, apologies for any missed typos.