A/N: Thanks everyone, the reviews are always a welcome addiction to the fun of writing! Darling, once more your help was vital to me. Love you so much.
Anthony DiNozzo knew very well that arriving late was one of the greatest sins. Fine, it was his own fault, he shouldn't have stayed at the bar for so long. And above all, he shouldn't have drunk so much beer. He couldn't believe that a couple of drinks, tiny ones at that, would leave him so sleepy. It had never happened before, why… No, he certainly wasn't getting old, he refused to admit it.
He parked his car in the last line, forcing him to run to the building. For Gods' sake, he was a Senior Agent, why the hell had no one given him his own parking space yet?
Entering the building, he noticed he wasn't the only one from his team who was coming in late. Gibbs was just a few feet away from him. DiNozzo's eyes jumped from his Boss to the lift, almost closing and almost full, and he made a decision: run like he never ran before.
A well-positioned hand prevented the lift's door from closing and he landed inside wearing a triumphant grin, shoving aside some grumpy colleagues from other teams. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was Gibbs' annoyed face. Alright, he was going to be headslapped for this, but he wasn't going to arrive late. Well, at least not after his Boss.
- 'Morning Probie. 'Morning Ziva – he said while approaching his desk.
- 'Morning, Tonino – Ziva and McGee replied almost in unison.
- What?
- I told you, McGee. He doesn't remember a word.
- Care to explain? And fast! – A glance at the lift's lights told him it was moving again.
- Well, last night you became Ducky's rival when it comes to storytelling. We now know every single bit of your childhood, youth, a few highlights from college and most of your adult life… Tonino. Wasn't that what Nonna Addolorata called you?
- Hilarious, Ziva… Hey, Hi Boss… ouch! – he'd been headslapped, as expected.
- Sometimes I think you actually enjoy this, DiNozzo. Is the nanny already here?
- Yes, Boss. We were just waiting for you – McGee answered taking his eyes from the computer screen.
- How is she?
- Looks like she was hit by a truck. And a big one – Ziva said.
- Well, let's try to be gentle. Everyone come with me.
The team followed Gibbs through the building to the interrogation area. Despite being early in the morning, the agency was full of workers wandering through the corridors looking rather busy.
- McGee, hand me every file related to the case… You're already here? – Gibbs stopped with all of his team behind him. Jenny was at the end of the corridor, by the interrogation room door. Cynthia was nearby, carrying a pile of documents and looking rather tense, as she always did when Gibbs was around.
- Address your superior properly, Special Agent Gibbs.
- There's no need to pull rank on me, madam – if she was going to play the Director, he wasn't going to be nice either. Behind him, he could hear his team whispering "So much for Ducky's reconciliation theory …" How the heck did they know about his late night visit?
- Anyone have anything to say about the case?
- No, Boss. – DiNozzo.
- Thought so. And Director, am I allowed to speak with my victim and witness or I need to have someone around me again?
- You may go.
- Thank you. Madam - he turned the doorknob and entered. His team took their place in the observation room. So did Jenny.
- You'd have to be a big SOB to get a girl looking like that… - Tony said the moment they stepped into the room – Huh, pardon my french, madam.
- Don't hold it in, Agent DiNozzo. That guy is a son of a bitch.
The girl, sitting on the other side of the smoked glass, barely resembled the mugshot they'd all seen in the files. A large bandage covered most of her forehead and dark hair. Her face was swollen around the eyes and mouth, and the skin was slashed. Even from a distance they could tell she was having trouble breathing.
Gibbs closed the door and approached her desk. The sound made her jump in her seat, and her eyes darted to his figure at once.
- Good morning, Miss Johnson. I'm Special Agent Gibbs.
- Good morning… - her voice was barely audible.
- Are you comfortable?
- Yes, I think so… well, its hurts anyway I sit...
He grabbed the other chair and sat across her, dropping the files on the desk – I have your first statement here, the one you gave to the Virginia Police.
- Yes? I don't actually have much more to say…
- The report is very brief, the priority was to take you straight to the hospital. We have your boyfriend in custody and we need to close the case. He will be transferred to a federal prison today, so…
- I don't want to see him. I'm not… I can't believe he… killed her – her nerves were shot, Gibbs realised. The girl was close to breaking point.
- Please calm down. You don't have to see him. But I still need some information.
She nodded silently.
- Could you tell me what happened that night?
The young woman looked at him, pleading. Gibbs met her gaze, held it, and in a few seconds she managed to start talking.
- It was late. I'd made dinner for me and… and Lizzie. We ate from trays in the living room, watching Cartoon Network. She just loves cartoons… like every kid. We played a little after dinner. Monopoly. Then I sent her to bed. I read her a little bedtime story and then I went downstairs. I washed the dishes and cleaned up a bit. When the house was tidy, I sat at my desk in my room. I was studying when I the doorbell rang. It rang furiously until I got to the door. When I saw Dan I opened the door just a crack. I knew why he was there, it was because… because early that day I said I wanted to break up. I told him to go away but he kicked the door and came in. After that... my mind is a little confused, I… I just remember running away from him and… yes, I tried to get to the phone but then he…
- He hit you.
- Yes… he grabbed my shoulders and I tried to defend myself, I must have kneed him or something, I don't know. All I remember is that he punched me in the face and I fell. He kicked me in the chest. I tried to get up but I couldn't, he wouldn't let me. I must have hit something, because I can't remember a thing, just the pain…
- You banged your head on the floor.
- After that… Oh my God – she buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
Gibbs reached for her hands and slowly lowered them – Hush. You can't change the past.
- When I opened my eyes... It was dark. I tried to move my head but I couldn't. Then I heard some odd noise really close by and with an effort, I turned. It was when I… I saw. Him. Dragging her away. She… she was so… so… limp. My heart just stopped.
- What did you do then?
- I... I tried to get up, but I had no strength left. I was confused. I don't know how long it was, I don't even know where I was. I heard him coming back and I panicked. He was… riding a bike?
- Yes.
- He saw me awake and ran. I screamed and tried to climb out of the trunk but he forced me back in. I remember I hit my forehead then. I kicked him hard and somehow managed to free myself. I started to run, just wanting to get away from him. I kept doing it until the police found me.
- Very well. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
- No… - her sobbing had calmed down but the pain in her face was fiercer than ever.
- Then we're finished. Want a hand getting up? – Gibbs didn't wait for the answer and let her grab his hands. He was still impressed him by how deeply she was hurt.
- McGee – he called from the door.
- Yes, Boss? – McGee left the observation room.
- Take the girl to Ducky. She isn't looking too good. If he agrees, take her home.
- Right. Come this way, Miss – she did and they both took the lift. Gibbs followed through the corridor towards the bullpen, but some voices made him stop.
One was much too familiar, and the other one he didn't recognise at all. It belonged to a man in a marine uniform, who was talking to Jenny. Only when they both turned did he recognise Chief Petty Officer McMillan from the photo he'd seen. A suitcase in his hands showed that he had certainly just arrived from Iraq.
- Jethro, this is…
- Chief Petty Officer McMillian, Madam Director.
- Yes. And this is Special Agent Gibbs, the case's supervisor.
- You've done your job well, Agent Gibbs. All I can do is to thank you – many changes had occurred to the man since the day he had taken that army's photo. The purple shadows under his eyes betrayed his sleepless nights. The coldness and formality were just masking the pain. Gibbs knew that better than anyone.
- There's no need for that.
- Jethro, maybe you should take Chief Petty Officer McMillian to one of the conference rooms – Jenny felt his gaze on her the moment she talked. She turned, now addressing to the marine – The body will be released today.
- Thank you, madam.
- Agent Gibbs, if you would – Gibbs nodded and took the other man with him. While they were passing by the bullpen he remembered something and headed for his desk.
- I believe this belongs to you – he open the top drawer and took out the medal, still inside the evidence bag.
James McMillian took it from his hand and turned it over – My first medal. Lizzie was always stealing it from my cabinet. When I left to Iraq I let her keep it. She said it was a way of having me around. Where did you find it?
- In her hand.
McMillian's face was suddenly not so cold anymore. He grabbed the medal tightly, and said – Sarah said, once, on the phone, that she took it everywhere in her pockets...
Gibbs didn't answer, still guiding him through the building. It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.
Jenny waited until the technicians cut the communications to let the professional smile vanish from her face. SecNav was really unbearable today and she had run out of patience halfway through the conversation. She dropped the headset on the nearest table and ran a hand through her hair. Her head was throbbing and she felt exhausted. She reached for one of the chairs in the front row and sat, stretching her tired legs.
- Want some coffee?
- Is that real coffee or that horrible murky thing?
- I don't like it much, so it's probably real coffee. Take.
She grabbed the plastic cup – So, how long have you been sitting here unnoticed, Jethro?
- A couple of minutes. I dismissed my team.
- I bet they all vanished in a matter of seconds. On Fridays, everyone in this agency does.
- Well, my agents do it every day I let them leave earlier. They are always afraid I might change my mind.
- How did the conversation go? I meant to ask, but I just didn't have the time.
- Thank you for bringing up the one topic I absolutely loathe to discuss.
- Jethro, are we going to argue in the middle of MTAC?
- I'm not arguing. But you never talked about La Grenouille or your father's suicide. Why do I have to discuss my daughter's murder with a perfect stranger?
- Because you were a marine like him, and because you've gone through the same situation. So all that Marine solidarity you are always talking about is just a bunch of crap?
- Of course not.
- Jethro, I'm really not in the mood for this. Say what you've come to say and leave.
- Nothing to say. I just came to get you some coffee.
- Are you a delivery boy now?
- No, I was trying to be nice. And you're pushing me away, as usual.
- Oh, so I pushed you away last night.
- I knew we still had that problem.
- Jethro, it's Friday. Everyone else is going away to enjoy the weekend, and I'm stuck here, and I'll be stuck working until God knows when. So please. Get out. Go sand your boat, or something.
- I'm done with the sanding.
- What?
- You heard me. I'm halfway done with the painting. I thought you knew.
- I haven't been in your basement for a long time.
- Want to go and see for yourself?
- What do you mean?
- Leave the work. It's not that early, and you've a right to enjoy the weekend as everyone else.
- Jethro, barely a minute ago we were at the brink of an argument and now you're inviting me over?
- I'm tired of arguing, Jen. Aren't you?
She turned her head, facing the now empty screen. – Yes. I am.
- So are you coming?
- I suppose Cynthia would enjoy leaving an hour earlier. Wait for me in the car, I won't take long.
What about a review, dear reader?