AN: I thought I'd better get this chapter out before VP arrives tomorrow, or it wouldn't get done for a week. Remember that guest room I hauled all the plaster for? I have to have an inaugural guest, and she was the last one to endure it in its previous awful state.

"Ai now decleah this guest room ewpen..."

We're not PROMISING a collaboration...

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 6

Molly Parker watched the clock all day, and left work the moment she could get away. She hurried down to the metro station, caught a train to Metro Central, and almost ran the rest of the way to the Martin Luther King Memorial Library. She was looking for one thing... she'd show her doubting friends she knew what she was talking about. It irked her that she'd had to come to the public library, splendid, vibrant and full of light as the place was, when NCIS had Marquis Who's Who available to them, but she didn't have the clearance to access it, and didn't know anyone who did well enough to ask. Two hours later, she was utterly frustrated... there wasn't a single VIP in the whole of Virginia with a daughter called Doris.

Her eyes were beginning to spin in her head when she came across Dr. Gerrard Wyndham, resident of Ruther Glen, VA...

She moved hastily to the eminent consultant surgeon's own web page, and found that yes, he did indeed have two adult children, Dylan and Dora... She looked at a family photo. To her young, and (if she but realised it) way on the shallow side viewpoint, poor Dora, forty two and unmarried, was distinctly on the homely side. She had to have mis-read that name. This was it. Wait until she told them tomorrow...

NCISNCISNCIS

The sun was dropping behind the higher mountains to the west, as the eventful day began to draw to a close; nothing had happened anywhere near the diner, and there'd been no sign of anything along the trails in the hills. Angelica's car had been located twenty miles away, and towed to the local police yard; Gibbs hadn't wanted it brought to the diner. It would have been as good as a beacon to unfriendly eyes – 'there's a Cardoza here'.

Ziva had suggested, rather persuasively to Prater and his sidekick that they might help their case by calling in to reassure their boss that all was well, but neither man had dared lie to the man, so by now Burns knew that his frighteners hadn't reported in. There was only one possible reason for that – they were under arrest. The cops were involved, so if he sent more men, which was really when, not if, they'd be armed. Not good. Even more not good when both Liz and Min flatly refused to leave the diner. They'd been putting people off all day by saying they were fully booked, and a chalkboard notice at the entrance to the parking area bore the colourful message, 'closed for private function', but that was all the compromise Liz would make. "My place. I'm not leaving it."

Min stood alongside her. "Ha... I take you up on partnership offer. Our place."

"Angelica refuses to go too – nicely, have to say... she says her dad could arrive in the middle of the night, and I can't argue with that. Come down... you can always ride again in the morning, if necessary. And tell Townley no, much as I appreciate –"

"Already did, Boss. He's not too happy."

Simon wasn't – the warrior in him wanted to defend the innocent, and the newspaperman in him wanted a scoop, but he'd appreciated Tony's argument, when he'd said no, he couldn't spend the night in the diner with them, and reminded him he had a lovely lady waiting for him who didn't want to be a widow before she was a wife, and the best son a dad could wish for – to say nothing of the said newspaper to run.

"It's one thing tracking an unarmed – unless he's nicked a gun from somewhere, but he'd be stupid to try to shoot the people who're trying to help him – "

"If he's smart enough to realise that's who we are and not shoot first – damn, I'm arguing against myself, aren't I?" Simon fell exasperatedly silent, and Tony went on blithely as if he'd not spoken.

" – petty crook, it's quite another for us to put you in the line of fire. And yeah, you too, Amos." He gave them the sort of grin that made them both want to throttle him, in a completely brotherly sort of way.

When they came to the bottom of the hill, and the road, Tony and Tim slid from their saddles, patted their horses, and set off down the road to the diner at a stiff run, while the other two, with visible bad grace, at least until the agents' backs were turned, took the reins of Doris and Jim, and set off up the grass path in the other direction that led to Duet.

"I don't like backing out of it," Simon said worriedly. "Never turned my back on anything in the Corps. Now I have to wait until morning – if it isn't all over – maybe badly – by then."

Amos nodded wryly. "Sass won't know whether to be relieved I came back or mad that I left him. But he's right – we can't help right now. I'll be ready with the horses at sun-up, though."

"I'll be there."

NCISNCISNCIS

3am, and the spotters up on the hills with their night glasses reported no activity, for the twentieth time. So did the armed officers concealed in the loading bay. The interior of the diner had gone over to night lighting at midnight; everyone sat on the floor to be invisible from the road, where the occasional car would make for a momentary increase in tension, until it went on by, and the watchers reported that it didn't stop. Min had all the blinds down in the kitchen, and made pizzas in the almost dark. Some people were hungry, some weren't; most people ate at least one slice – they were very good. "Ha... never mind Italians – Vietnamese invent pizzas!"

There really was no alternative, Tim thought, mentally checking things off also for the twentieth time. Bad guys with guns were coming; Tony hadn't mentioned a film, yet, but he was sure he could think of one – and there was only one place where they knew they'd come, away from town and innocent bystanders, where they could take them on. "Bit like the OK Corral," he said softly. Tony grinned broadly. "You've been watching too many movies, McGunfight!"

The younger agent smiled lazily back. They were leaning their backs against the counter, thoughtfully munching their last slices, and watching the road where it came over a slight rise and down an even slighter hill, when Min appeared at Tony's elbow. His English almost unfractured, as it always was when he didn't have an audience to amuse, he said quietly, " Ah...That little girl's not doing so well, you know? Makes out she so tough, she lost little thing. She don't even want my pizza! What you do if you're seventeen, and both your parents are bad people?" He looked hard at Tony, and handed him more hot pizza wedges wrapped in a pink gingham napkin.

The agent understood the command, grinned as easily as before, (Tim wondered how he endlessly kept up the fake nonchalance that fooled everyone but his team,) and began to scoosh across the floor to where Angelica sat beside the fish tank, his grin fading as soon as Min couldn't see his face. He had a good idea what was bothering the teenager, and hadn't anything of comfort to say. She turned her head away from the window as Tony approached, but didn't speak. He held the napkin out and said seriously, "Ideally, you should be getting some sleep while you can. I can see you're not going to, so the next best thing is Min's pizza."

"Mmm... He said that. But I'm just not hungry."

She watched as he put the napkin on the floor between them and opened it. "Picnic," he said, and took out a slice. She breathed the delicious aroma in, then looked away again. "I don't think anything's going to happen tonight," he said reassuringly, although he knew that wasn't what she was thinking.

After a while, during which time he nibbled rather than vacuumed a slice, she said finally, "My Mom will go to prison because of me."

"If your Mom goes to prison, it'll be because of things she's done. It won't be your fault. Believe me, Angelica, we'd have got Burns in the end. It's just coming sooner because of what she did to your father."

She sighed, and looked directly at him for the first time. "I didn't spy out of malice, you know."

"At first it was curiosity; then you did it to protect yourself."

Her eyes widened. "How did you... ah, you're like me, aren't you. I knew you were."

"There may... be a parallel or two. Forget about me."

"But – "

"I'll tell you some time if you're really interested... but right now, you've got things you need to say. Have some pizza."

Angelica took a slice and looked at it as if it were a piece of alien art work. "I needed to know what was going on... she talked me into doing business studies because she had, and she knew all the right people – I was terrified, you know, that she'd say when I qualified, 'right, now there's a great job waiting for you in Burns Enterprises – because I absolutely so did not intend to work for a criminal! I was going to say something like, 'no, I know what he's all about. I'm going off to study... anything... ethnic weaving techniques in Uzbekistan... anything, as far away as possible. And as long as you're cool about it I'll never say anything to anybody."

"Which would have been all very well until Jack got wind of it."

"I know that now," the youngster lamented. "D'you think she knew he'd told them to drag me along today? D'you think she knew they'd use me against my Dad?" In the semi-darkness her brown eyes were huge and round, and carried a desperate plea for some sort of comfort. "She never loved me..."

Tony spoke so softly she knew it was for her ears only. "I used to think it was my fault that my father didn't love me... that I wasn't loveable. It took me a long time to realise that I was no worse than anyone else... that it was him, not me. Left me insecure to this day. But I found people who do care about me, and I finally believed I'm worth something. My father was wrong."

She looked at him solemnly, understanding how much he was giving her, and after a while asked, "What about your Mom?"

"Oh, she died when I was very young. She loved me, I remember."

"My Dad loves me. He's not very good at it... I mean, he took my amethyst – but he does. What?" She read his expression and her voice rose a little in anxiety.

He took both her hands and squeezed them. "There's a chance your Dad'll go to prison as well, hon."

"But... but maybe he didn't know what he was doing was criminal, maybe – oh. He's done other things as well, you mean." Her shoulders slumped.

"Nothing terrible that I know of. You just need to know that he maybe won't be around more than he is at the moment. Not for a while. I'm sorry, Angelica."

It was a measure of how far she'd come in the last few hours, that she didn't swear. She just said sadly, "So I'll be alone, then."

Tony thought for a moment, and said truthfully, "You may find this weird, but sometimes it's the best thing for you to be alone, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time... you don't have to worry about other people's demands and expectations... you can work out what you expect of yourself, and you can choose who you want to be with so you're not alone any more. Sort of a fresh start, if you like."

He looked around the darkened room and was aware of Gibbs and Ziva watching them – he'd known they would be. "Something else... it's worked out for the best that Burns' guys dragged you here – we talked about it. Nobody will ever need to know where we got our information from."

"I won't have to be a witness? I was a bit scared about that, although I haven't had much time to think about it."

"We're not telling anyone what our sources are... no way we'd hang you out to dry in front of Burns. You'll be safe. And in the end, you'll be OK, Angelica. You said you wouldn't work for a criminal – you've got some idea already of what you expect of yourself. You'll be fine." He waved a hand round the room. "And you won't be completely alone. You going to eat that pizza, or get some sleep?"

She looked down at the wedge in her hand, and took a hefty bite, and her eyes closed for a moment, savouring the taste. "I guess... both," she said when her mouth was empty enough. "Thanks, Tony."

He waited silently while she finished the slice and ate another, in case she thought of anything else she needed to say, but she just smiled tiredly, so he pulled the seat pad down from the nearest chair, laid it on the floor and patted it invitingly. "There – best we can do for a pillow." She lay down and put her head on it, and he shrugged out of his jacket and put it over her while it still retained his body heat. She smiled again, eyes drooping, muttered thanks, and settled down, and Tony wriggled back to Tim. "Anything?"

Tim was hunched over his i-phone. "Abby's collated all the different information sources, car-hire, cameras, that bar brawl, we've got names for a checklist of who turns up. Local helitaxi firm's set up to fly two machines over the hills in the morning. One pass each in different directions, not hanging around to spook anyone, but they might spot something to give us a lead. Ziva's been talking to the cryptographer; she tells me he's being very cautious, but he thinks it's his birthday and Christmas. That's about it."

And it was. There wasn't even a passing vehicle to relieve the monotony until a milk tanker went by at first light. Fifteen minutes after that the watchers on the hills reported two men and four horses coming down the trail from Duet, and the Troublemint Twins snuck out through the back door and away through the brush to meet them.

To Tony's absolute astonishment, after her usual greeting, his mare went straight for his pocket, her nose twitching. He pulled out a wedge of veggie-perfect pizza, and she wolfed the lot. "So much for my elevenses," he said mournfully. "Are all pregnant women the same?"

He noticed a bit of a wince and a huff from Tim as he swung up with an effort into the saddle on the tallest mount of the four, but he decided not to tease. Tim, however, had been working with Tony long enough now to be wary, and glanced back at him. "Tony, if you say anything about a pain in the butt..."

Tony grinned. "I was tempted..."

"My butt would probably be happier if it hadn't sat on a diner floor all night." Tony knew he was right; even an experienced rider felt muscle stiffness if they hadn't ridden for a while, and there was no way that Tim could be described as that, even though he was doing more than fine for a beginner. Or had been, until this morning. Jim was exhibiting more skittishness than sense, and both Tony and Amos considered, and rejected offering their mounts instead, as McGee fought to make the pesky bay settle down.

As they reached the top of the first ridge, things escalated. The trail wound round a shale slope, dotted with rocks, remnants of some ancient landslide, and the four riders strung out into single file – and at that moment the first expected helicopter rose straight up from behind the next ridge. Its sound had been completely masked, and now it shot up with a shattering roar, and even Doris twitched a little. Elmer, in the lead, shied and jerked his head around, trying with his limited eyesight to identify the threat, and Jim, reading his anxiety, panicked. He attempted to turn, to flee back in the direction they'd come, but Doris was behind him so he spun again. If he stepped off the trail it meant disaster, and in any case Tim, whose experience definitely didn't extend to this, was slipping further out of his saddle with every lunge of his freaked out mount. If the horse didn't tumble down the slope, the rider still might...

Tony urged Doris forward, between Jim and the downward slope, and she went into the narrow gap without hesitation. The SFA leaned far out of his saddle and grabbed his friend by the back waistband of his jeans. He yanked hard, and Tim regained his seat with a grunt. The offending helicopter was disappearing in the distance, and with Doris alongside him, nudging him in the right direction, Jim was beginning to realise he was making a fuss over nothing.

"Y'all right, McGee?" Amos was embarrassed – his horses didn't behave like that, although, to be fair, they'd none of them had to endure anything like that before.

"I'm fine... now." He patted and soothed his mount, and got his breath back as they moved forward onto a broader section of trail. Amos gave in and offered to swap mounts, but he shook his head. "Oh no, Amos, him and me'll get to understand each other in the end."

He drew back to ride alongside his SFA, and murmured "Thanks, Tony." His friend opened his mouth to say 'you're welcome', but Tim went on, "You didn't just let me fall." It was a statement that was a question. Tony shook his head. Clearly McGee had been too occupied with hoss-wrestling to notice his surroundings.

"If we'd been on a nice, broad, grassy path, maybe. There are some temptations a man's just meant to fall into." Tim began to glare at him, but he smiled peaceably and went on, "Seriously, I think we have to fall off sometimes to teach us how to stay on, ya know? But there? Where we were? It's neither my job nor my pleasure to get you hurt. Anyway, you should thank Doris, not me."

Tim smiled, and reached over to pat her wren-brown neck. "Thanks, Doris." He glanced back, past Simon bringing up the rear, to look at the shale slope that had almost been his undoing, and then stiffened, and stood up in his stirrups to get a closer look. "There!" he said sharply. Tony, and then Simon, followed his pointing finger. Much further down the slope, a figure was moving stealthily on foot from one patch of scrub to another, heading towards the trail that ran at the foot of the hill, heading for the road and Gunnerson's Diner.

TBC