Tim's dreams were wild that night. He was running, running, running, but Gibbs was always just a half-dozen steps behind him. Turn a corner, another, lose him. Suddenly, he's there again. Blackness of night. Turn a corner into sunlight. City. Washington. Pavement. Alley. Turn a corner, there stands Ducky, looking stern. Run. Run. Turn a corner, night again. Run. Run. Turn a corner. The Director stands there, her face a torrent of anger. She starts running alongside. "You never got to Annapolis!" she snaps. "They called me and asked why you hadn't shown up! How could you embarrass me like that?!" She disappears, and Gibbs is following him again. Tim cries out in frustration, and can only keep running, running, while trying to shake loose whatever invisible creatures are chomping at his skin...
At four-thirty he snapped awake, shaking and drenched in sweat. I can't go back to sleep; I'll go insane. I need to be concentrating on something... He got online and read the last of the reports the team had filed last night.
I can help. I can do something to find this 'Nell'. Starting a search, he closed it down, jittery, after just a few minutes. He could feel Gibbs', Ducky's, and the Director's eyes all on him from the shadowy corners of the room, silent and accusatory.
Why am I so spooked about this?! He fixed breakfast, but could feel the presence of the accusers still. I can't stay here like this. I need other people around me, to shield me...Within 15 minutes he was out the door, into the pre-dawn darkness, and on the way to the Silver Spring Metro station to catch the first train of the day.
- - - - -
It was shortly before six when he entered the NCIS squad room, early enough that only a third of the lights were on; the ones that were always on. Tim switched on his desk lamp and got to work.
Ziva and Tony appeared shortly before seven. "Probie! You haven't fully grasped the concept of 'when-offered-sick-leave,-take-it', have you?"
"It's even worse than that," Ziva pointed out. "Injured while on duty is administrative leave, not sick leave. It's like holiday time. You don't like taking holidays, McGee?"
Tim ignored their gibes; he was just glad that he had no fears around these two. "Come look at this," he said, beckoning. "I've been looking for Nells in the lieutenant's background."
"And did you find any?"
"Seven, so far."
"What?!"
"Here's the list. Nell Bullfinch, her high school English teacher. Nell Ford, next-door neighbor in Palo Alto, California, where the Peskarev family moved to from Switzerland. Nellie Johnson, member of her drama club in junior high school. Nell Drozen, a member of her college sorority. Nellie Garcia, a girl she babysat for while in high school. Nallie, note the 'A', Obodovsky, her mother's associate in the émigré program—"
"Probie, how did you know about the émigré program?! Did you log onto NCIS from home again? Oh, man..."
Tim ignored the interruption. "—and finally, Nell Veneroso, who was a classmate of hers at OCS Newport. Unless you also count fictional characters like Nellie Olsen of Little House on the Prairie, her favorite TV show as a child. But you know what's weird?"
"That's a lot of 'Nells' for one person to know," said Tony. "I don't think I've ever known anyone by that name. And the lieutenant knew seven of them?!"
"Exactly," said Tim. "I checked it for popularity against the Social Security Administration's baby name index. 'Nell' hasn't been in the top 1000 baby names given in the U.S. since 1956! That year it was ranked 987. I can run checks on these people, and I'm still searching for other 'Nell's. I was about to—"
"McGee!"
They all jumped. Gibbs looked beyond exasperated. "Did I miss a few days? Is it Thursday already?"
Tim shuddered. "Uh, no, boss—"
"Then you're not supposed to be here, are you?!"
"But, boss, I can—" Tim barely got the words out; his fear was so great, much as he also hated himself for his terror. He hung his head.
"Tell you what, McGee," Gibbs said, sounding casual without quite sounding casual. "You go see Ducky, and get him to say that you're fit to work, then you can stay. Otherwise, you go home." Gibbs was glad he knew a few management tricks, though he'd never call them that. Tim would go straight to Ducky, he knew; would argue with him, then would pack up and go home. It was a face-saving measure for both Gibbs and Tim.
But Tim looked up at him, his face haggard. "Okay; I'll leave." He dropped his spent coffee cup in the trash basket and left the building.
- - - - -
Abby concluded that a polymer was indeed the mystery substance in the tissue. Why that should be, she couldn't say. That might have to wait until the team had a suspect.
She turned her attention to the material in the little case, the stuff that was said to have come off the lieutenant's body. Well, clearly this is circuitry, so Jimmy must be pulling my leg... But it didn't slice like electronics. Cutting a section, she looked at it under the microscope. Now that looks like a comparator, at least I think that's what this is...I think this is a PLL...and it connects over here. Definitely a miniature mixed-signal circuit...and here's another one...How could all this be on a person?
Unless...
She did more tests, and this time she actually froze in place for a moment when the results came in. She turned around once, and was surprised when Gibbs didn't make his magical appearance. "Gibbs!" she called into thevideo phone as a last resort. "I need you down here now! And you'd better bring me a Caf-Pow! No, wait, come down here faster. Skip the Caf-Pow! Just come." I can't believe I just said that!
He appeared within five minutes, fresh Caf-Pow! in hand. "What do you have, Abbs?"
"Nothing much yet on the polymer, but look at this! Mother of all Hinkyness, Gibbs; this is miniature electronic circuitry—organic circuitry, that must have seeped out of her body; swept out when the lesions opened up!"
"It was inside of her? Any idea what it was doing?"
"Not without more tests. It must have been programmed to do something. Besides multiply itself, that is. Different states of development are visible; here, look are the newly-born digital-to-analog converters. Aren't they cute?"
Gibbs frowned, trying to get his mind around it. "This was living? Organic? Is it still living?"
"Oh, no; if it lived inside of her, it was probably anaerobic, or close to it. It probably didn't survive in the open air for too long. Thank heavens Tim was wearing gloves, or else it could have seeped into his skin...Gibbs? Tim was wearing gloves, wasn't he?" She grabbed him by the shirt. "Tell me he was wearing gloves!"
He shrugged her off, and made it to the elevator in record time.
- - - - -
"Ziva, go get McGee. Bring him back here. Move!"
"But you just sent him away; not 20 minutes ago, Gibbs..." She saw his glare and shrugged, grabbing her car keys. "I'll phone him and pick him up at Silver Spring, if not sooner. I don't suppose you'd tell me what all this is about?"
"Later. Go!"
- - - - -
Tony entered the squad room, escorting a willowy blonde woman, about 35 years of age, wearing a conservative suit and an NCIS visitor's badge.
She looked around, smiling. "How many people work here, Agent DiNozzo?"
"Oh, about half of them," he said with his trademarked grin, enjoying her laugh at the DiNozzo charm. "Boss, this is Ms. Nell Champion. She's here about Lieutenant Peskarev."
"You must be Agent Gibbs," she said, extending her hand. "I'm here to claim the body."
He was taken aback by her effrontery. "Have a seat, Ms. Champion."
While Tony gave him a knowing grin over the top of his monitor, Gibbs asked Champion a series of questions about her relationship to Peskarev and her status as next of kin. Tony typed quietly. Seeing Tony's slight shake of the head as one question after the other fell apart, Gibbs rose.
"If you really are who you say you are, I'd expect you to have your facts in better order," he said. At least she has the grace to look a tad embarrassed.
"But I am Nell Champion," the woman then insisted. "Here is my card; please give me a call tomorrow when you are ready to release the body." She paused, then added. "It is of utmost importance that you do. It's...not something that you want hanging around here, I don't think."
"And why is that, Ms. Champion?" Gibbs' look was cool.
"It's...not normal."
"Maybe that's for us to judge. Right now we're awaiting the autopsy results. I don't know when the body will be released."
Tony escorted Champion back out, and Gibbs then got on the phone. "Enrique, we just had a visit from Nell...or someone who said she was Nell..."
"Well, she's obviously an imposter, Gibbs, because Nell's in my office right now." It's so nice to have her here. I've been seeing her around base all day. He looked over at the smiling, dark-haired woman sitting in one of the visitor chairs. She wore a dress of light, gauzy material. The sunlight played on it, through it, through her transparent body, and settling at last on the more solid chair...
- - - - -
Tim swallowed on seeing Gibbs. Whatever Gibbs wants me for, it can't be pleasant. He's not one to have a change of heart very fast. I've been waiting and waiting for him to really chew me out, why won't he?
Gibbs sat and clasped his own hands, trying to remember the scene from yesterday morning. "McGee—when you touched Lieutenant Peskarev, giving her CPR, were you wearing gloves?"
"Uh, no, boss. There wasn't time..."
Nodding, Gibbs went to the next question. "And a little later, when you then handled her body?"
Here it comes, though he doesn't look mad... "No, boss. I—I didn't know it was a crime scene. Rule #2," he added, almost in a whisper.
Sighing, Gibbs rose, and put a hand across Tim's shoulders. "You may have been infected by something. Come on, let's go see Ducky."
"Ducky?!" Tim wrenched away, and ran from the squad room. Ran and ran, out the building, ignoring the shouts that fell in his wake. Ran and hid in the shadows by the Navy Yard gate. There he sat and sobbed, ignoring the curious Marine at the post; the Marine who'd admitted him every work day for the last seven months.
Soon Tony came and sat down beside him. "No one's mad at you, Probie, if that's what you're thinking. No one's out to hurt you. Hey, how'd you manage to run so far with broken ribs? You must be hurting, in more ways than one."
"Ducky—"
"—can't figure out why you're avoiding him, but wants to help you. You've got to come back to NCIS, Probie. You may have been infected with...something. That may be what's been making you act so squirrely. You need to get treatment."
"What is it?" said Tim, scratching his wrist. "And what makes you think I'm sick?"
Tony studied him. "Because you've been acting peculiar, even for you, McGee. All afraid of Ducky and Gibbs—"
"And the Director."
"Really? Well, anyway, there's something hinky about that tissue you touched...and you may have caught—"
"Whatever killed the lieutenant," Tim sighed.
"Worse than that," Tony said, getting to his feet and pulling Tim up. "We started checking the Nells you named this morning. All of them are dead."
"Dead?!"
"Yes, within the last year. And another Nell appeared here a little while ago, asking to claim the body. Abby can fill you in, on the tech end, although you'd probably enjoy seeing it yourself. It's all woo-woo to me. It all appears to be some cracked scientific experiment. And if the people behind this know that you're infected..."
"They may want me..."