Jurisdictional Encounters

062608

Disclaimer: Still not even owning a working computer. If you recognize anyone, they belong to others more imaginative than I am.

Summary: Two agencies, one case. Can they work together?

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Yes, I know the title sucks and the summary bites but it was 2 am and I was stoned on pain pills when I did them so please don't hold them against me. I hope y'all like the second chapter better than the first. I think I have the NCIS guys fairly on character. Grant I'm giving new issues and problems as well as hobbies and interests. Without A Trace didn't develop the character at all so I'm taking the liberty.

Many thanks to Angel Spike and Wesleys Girl for her assistance in the idea of this fic and for keeping the chapters safe while I await the repair of my own computer.

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Chapter 2

Grant rolled over with a groan as the shrill sound of his cell phone penetrated the disturbing images of his dream world. A huge part of him was extremely happy to leave the nightmare but his body protested the interruption of its rest, however restless it may be. The phone had spent several minutes chirping, paused and then resumed its annoying noise as Grant struggled to untangle his lean limbs from the covers. A glance at the light green, old fashioned style alarm clock told him that it was due to ring in less than an hour. A fact that did not make him feel any more rested. The apartment was too cluttered to run through so he padded carefully into the living room and snagged the vibrating phone from the coffee table. He flipped it open as he sank his nude body onto the sofa.

"Mars" He barked. All thoughts of sleep vanished as the voice droned into his ear. "Give me half an hour." He snapped the phone shut and rose to go start the coffee maker. It only held four cups and would be finished before he was even dressed.

A few minutes later, smartly clad in a chocolate brown suit, tan linen shirt and gold silk tie, Grant poured the entire contents of his tiny coffee maker into a large, insulated plastic mug, doctored it to his taste, attached the matching lid, opened the refrigerator with his right hand, removed two cans of Red Bull from the case that shared shelf space with his imported beer and slid them into his jacket pocket. His actions were all performed with the ease of many repetitions, done without conscious thought, allowing his brain to begin cataloging everything he would need to do once he arrived at the crime scene. He paused at the front door to gather his badge, gun, keys and computer case. Less than ten minutes after being pulled from his restless sleep Federal Agent Grant Mars was walking out of the door to begin another day of frustrating and depressing work.

Twenty minutes later, Grant switched his suit jacket for his black FBI windbreaker, slid one of the Red Bull cans into a pocket and shoved the driver's door to his Honda Accord closed. He pushed the key fob and peripherally registered the 'chirp' of the alarm setting on the coupe. He'd endured teasing about his choice of car but only one of his tormentors had been aware that the Honda had been modified to certain specifications and would outrun any of their expensive sports cars. It was his personal secret weapon and one of the few things in his life that he still cherished.

"What do we have?" Grant asked the uniformed cop that was guarding the perimeter of the crime scene. He flashed his FBI badge and made to duck under the yellow warning tape. Surprise flared in his dark blue eyes when the younger man halted the motion.

"I'm sorry, sir." The officer apologized. "But there's a federal team already on site."

Grant frowned and anger swamped him. "What do you mean? My office called and told me that this was my crime scene, the MO was the same as the son of a bitch I've been chasing for over three years. So what other federal agency could possibly have jurisdiction over my case?" His voice had begun to rise by the time he finished his questions.

"Stand down." A new voice spoke up from directly behind the irate detective. The young police officer nodded and moved away as Grant swiveled around to unleash his ire on the newcomer. A tall man with mostly silver hair, blue eyes and black windbreaker jacket stood calmly inside the crime scene tape. A small patch with the initials NCIS decorated one side of the front. "So you're Fornell's new guy. I was wondering when our paths would cross. Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS." Gibbs stuck out his hand clearly expecting Grant to shake it, which he did, albeit grudgingly.

"Grant Mars, FBI, Missing Persons Unit." Grant introduced himself. "What interest does the Navy have with my trafficking case?"

Gribbs' blue eyes continued to survey the scene. "It becomes our interest" He spoke slowly, "when the latest victim is a Naval Officer."

Shock struck Grant speechless for more than a couple of seconds. He ran his free hand over his hair and raised his oversized coffee mug up for another gulp. His dark blue gaze followed Gibbs' thorough visual inspection of the area, a parking lot outside of a chain restaurant. He swallowed his coffee and finally spoke. "Well, that was stupid."

Humor gleamed in Jethro Gibbs' eyes although his face remained stern. "Yup." He agreed and raised his own coffee to his mouth. The silence that followed was not as uncomfortable as Grant might have expected it to be. He wasn't used to standing around and watching others do the work he was trained to do but that's what he did for almost two hours.

While they waited for his team to finish processing the scene, Gibbs studied the suppressed energy of the FBI agent at his side with interest. Fornell had told him about the newest agent but seeing for himself was eye-opening. His steel blue gaze sharpened when the shorter man reached into his pocket and pulled out a Red Bull, heedless of the coffee mug he'd set down several feet away. 'As bad as Abby.' Jethro thought with bemusement as he watched the drink die in less than two minutes.

Mars stopped pacing as he took note of the tall, round faced young man who walked briskly over to Gibbs. "Boss, we're done getting Abby's stuff. There's not a lot. Tony's taking the last few photos and Ziva has terrorized all the witnesses." Gray eyes swiveled over to scan Grant's lean form. "New FBI guy?"

Gibbs nodded. "McGee - computers. Mars - missing persons." The introductions were minimal and as soon as they were made Gibbs moved over to talk to the supervisor of the local law enforcement.

McGee stuck a hand out for Grant to shake. "Tim McGee, NCIS. I do computer analysis. You're with the Missing Persons Unit?"

Grant nodded as he shook McGee's hand briefly and swallowed another sip of the coffee he'd reclaimed. "Grant Mars." Before he got a chance to elaborate another man interrupted.

"Probie." He nodded to McGee. Green eyes glanced off Grant's face. "Hey, Mars." He reached out in an unconscious movement that appeared to have been performed countless times and snagged Grant's mug from surprise slackened fingers. Tony DiNozzo took a large gulp of the stolen coffee and grimaced. "Damn, Marvin, when are you gonna drink coffee that doesn't put you in a sugar coma? And it's cold. Yuck." He gave the mug back with a shudder and spoke to McGee again. "Ziva says she's ready to go, you got everything?" He swung a high tech camera from its strap as he walked away without waiting for an answer.

Tim watched as the stunned surprise faded from Grant's handsome face. "I take it you already know Tony." He observed.

Grant nodded. "We worked together in Baltimore." He cursed internally for not noticing that Tony had been there. He'd been too distracted by his inability to help process the area to pay much attention to the people who'd actually been doing the work. He sipped his thankfully almost finished coffee. "We were partners for almost a year before I transferred to Boston." Both men watched Tony's retreating form as he faltered in his footsteps, stopped for a moment, shook his head and then whirled around and strode back with long, ground-eating strides.

"Ok, someone wanna tell me why he's here?" Tony spoke to McGee but stared at his ex-partner. He seemed to realize he was being less than friendly and he smiled, patented DiNozzo number 12, the 'always put the person you punched in the face the last time you saw them at ease' version.

"I'm with the FBI now, Dino." Grant used the old nickname deliberately, letting his old friend know that he harbored no hard feelings. "It would seem that the creep I've been chasing for three and a half years has just made a huge mistake." He drained the last of his coffee and nodded to McGee, suddenly uncomfortable with the proximity of his old friend. "I have all my case files on a computer but since I'm not very literate with those things, I wonder if you'd like to take a look."

McGee blinked, ducked under the yellow tape and glanced at Tony, whose handsome face had gone blank with the FBI agent's apparent dismissal. "Um... yeah, sure. I can do that."

Grant nodded briskly and turned away. "It's in my car. I can give it to you now if you'd like."

Tony watched in barely concealed shock as Mars walked away without another word. He glared at McGee. "I better never hear you call me 'Dino' if you don't want your keyboard superglued." He paused for effect. "Again."

Tim nodded as he beat a fast retreat in the direction Mars had gone. Tony watched as the shorter man unlocked the not quite familiar Honda, threw the big blue mug into the back seat and withdrew a leather case from the front passenger floorboard. He felt Gibbs approach from the side. "Something wrong, DiNozzo?" Jethro thought he knew the answer but wanted his Senior Field Agent to say it aloud.

Tony shook his head but didn't take his eyes off the two men next to the plain black coupe. "Nothing, Boss." He denied as he slipped his sunglasses out of his pocket and onto his nose.

"Can't be easy." Gibbs mused quietly.

"What can't?" Tony pulled his gaze away from Mars and glanced at Gibbs.

"Seeing someone you last saw under less than friendly circumstances." Jethro was expecting another denial. He wasn't disappointed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Boss." Tony turned away. "I'll see if Ziva's ready to go back to the office." He walked away before he could be questioned further.

Several yards away, next to the Honda...

Grant handed the expensive leather case to McGee. "This represents 98 percent of my savings. It took me three weeks to scan all the files in, so please take good care of it. Even if I don't know how to use it very well, it'd be a shame to let it get ruined."

Tim nodded as he carefully accepted the case. "I'll figure it out for you. If you want, either Abby or I can teach you how to use it." He offered.

"Who's Abby?" Grant frowned, Tim had mentioned someone by that name earlier.

"She's our forensic scientist." Tim smiled fondly, there wasn't anyone like their Abby.

"Ah." Grant nodded distractedly, his mind conjured visions of an older woman in a severely tailored suit, lab coat, glasses, no makeup and with graying hair pulled up in a tight bun. He could work with that. What he wasn't sure of was if he could work with Tony again. Their parting had not been friendly.

Next to the NCIS truck...

As Tony helped Ziva David load the equipment they'd used back into the van, his thoughts were centered on his ex-partner. He knew that Grant was only a year older then he himself was and, while at first glance he'd appeared unchanged, on closer inspection the shorter man had looked as if he'd aged a lot more than the six years it'd been since they'd last seen each other. Grant was far thinner than Tony had ever seen him before and he looked as if he lived on caffeine and cigarettes even though he hadn't smelled of smoke the way he used to. Tony's agile mind boggled over the changes not only in the other man but in the car he drove. The FBI agent was a far cry from the man Tony had worked beside and hung out with for nearly a year and the NCIS agent made up his mind right then to find out what had changed the man he once considered his best friend.

McGee joined them, carefully tucking the computer case into a secure slot in the equipment van. "Mars is going to follow us back to the office." He said mildly, avoiding Tony's piercing look. "Apparently this is now a joint investigation."

"Who's Mars?" Ziva asked, her slight Israeli accent drew the name out a little.

"FBI." Gibbs spoke as he walked up behind them. "He's been tracking the dirtbag we are now after for over three years. He's got a lot of information that could help us nail this one." He pinned each of them with a glare. "We set?"

"Yes, Boss." Came from all three agents as they moved around to climb into the van.

TBC