Somehow making it back to his desk, Gibbs threw himself down in his chair and stared straight ahead in shock.
He had managed to clamber to his feet, and dimly decided against confronting the two conspirators then and there. He was way too emotional, completely incapable of acting rationally.
So instead, he had quietly, albeit dazedly, made his way back up to the bull pen with his mind whirling with new and distinctly unpleasant information.
It all made sense now.
The weird behaviour from the two girls, the odd position Ziva had been holding herself in.
He stared unseeingly at the glaring orange walls, and continued to feel the wave of shock trickle over him.
How could they have been so stupid?
His throat constricted painfully as he recalled Abby's words.
Mugged and beaten.
Fighting down a gasp, he grimaced as his insides began to churn once more.
Whilst he had been asleep at home, his two girls had been wandering around in a drunken state, doing god knows what and god knows where.
Dropping his head into his hands, he sighed in misery.
The agent in him knew Ziva would have been able to put up a decent fight, despite her drunkenness.
He surmised that the reason his youngest had been the one to sustain injury, was because she had been protecting Abby.
The thoughts of her grappling with some lowlife whilst being drunk made him want to violently throw up.
Why hadn't they called him?
He would have come and got them, no questions asked.
They knew that.
His mind was working overtime and as conclusions began to form, his jaw tightened.
The only reason they wouldn't call would be because they thought they would get in trouble if they did.
Letting out another loud sigh, he shook his head.
How many times had he told them that no matter what, their safety came first?
He had told them that, time and time again, and yet…still they chose to fare out on their own.
Grinding his teeth, he wasn't surprised to find that rage was now beginning to replace his immediate feelings of shock and fear.
He correctly surmised that Ziva's injuries consisted of bruised ribs, bruised, but not broken.
He had enough experience of his own being assaulted to know what way they changed a person's stance.
Therefore, whilst she was no doubt in pain, she wasn't in any serious danger of substantial injury.
His jaw tightened as he deduced correctly that whatever vermin had mugged his two girls was most likely in a substantially worse state than his resident killer.
He would get to the vermin in time.
Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms he closed his eyes as the all too familiar feelings of hurt began to infiltrate his mind.
He was a man of few words, but he thought he had spoken sufficiently to all of his four about lying to him.
It was a cardinal rule, and they god damn knew it, and had decided to flaunt it regardless.
Scowling, he stared moodily up at the ceiling, his mind working overtime.
How in the hell was he going to deal with this one?
Several people flitted past him, taking no notice of the angry stance or the pensive expression of the silently staring man.
A brooding LJ Gibbs was nothing unusual, and as long as they weren't in the firing line, people were generally content to let the infamous Jethro seethe if he wanted to.
An hour or so of silent thinking and scowling, the agent came to a decision.
His jaw tightened as he reaffirmed it in his mind, as he felt himself shrouded in disappointment.
His girls wanted to lie to him? Then fine, he would let them.
Standing up abruptly and swinging his jacket over his shoulder he swept angrily from the bull pen, his mind filling with plans to take his fuming frustrations out on his boat.
His boat never lied to him. His boat didn't make his blood boil.
Why have maddening kids when you can have sweet, soothing boats.
With this in mind, he was soon speeding from the Navy Yard, making a mental note to stop and pick up a very much needed six pack.
He was soon lost in a haze of sawdust, wood chippings and age matured beer.
He felt his anger begin to slip away from his tight shoulders as he sanded vigorously, and drank diligently.
By the time he was ready to call it a night, the left hand side of his vessel was considerably smoother and he was considerably calmer.
The next day dawned bright and dewy, and the team were out in the field running down a possible sighting of their suspect.
Gibbs sent McGee and DiNozzo to cover one side of the town they had trundled into, and despite himself, he had to bite back a grin at the horrified look on Ziva's face when she realised she'd be riding with him for the day.
Solo.
Slipping back behind the steering wheel of his car, having given the MCRT van to the boys, he smoothly kicked the engine into gear.
The car meandered on for a while, before the elder agent opened his mouth.
"You and Abby have a good weekend?" he asked conversationally, keeping his tone completely level and not taking his eyes off the road, but watching the girl beside him closely in his peripheral vision.
The instantaneous squirming would have made him chuckle on a normal occasion, but he schooled his features into neutrality and waited patiently for an answer.
An answer, he conceded that required a law degree to answer without flatly lying.
"Uhh…uhm, yes…we did…thank you."
No law degree for his youngest then.
Nodding thoughtfully as if this information was fascinating, he continued to keep his gaze on the road.
"That's good. You think you'll head back there again?"
The squirming intensified immediately as the tousled curls that hid the kid's face turned towards the window, as if she had suddenly realised she had never seen trees before.
"Uhh…well I…uhm…maybe I guess" she spluttered, racking her brains for a change in conversation, whilst trying valiantly to suppress the red hot flush that was appearing across her cheeks.
Gibbs tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly in response, and fought to remain outwardly neutral.
Changing tack as he changed gears, he carefully opened his mouth once more.
"I hope we find this guy soon. You know, it's a shame. If he had just confessed in the first place, none of this would be happening. I can't understand why he didn't just ring his father for help when he realised what he'd done, it never would have gotten this far then. He just mustn't trust him I guess."
The tiny non committal squeak that emitted from the other side of the car was as close as he got to a response.
That did make his lips quirk upwards somewhat.
He had received this kind of guilt tripping treatment from Mike once, and knew how awful it made the recipient feel.
He comforted himself in the knowledge that whilst he was being pretty hard on the kid, he had never lied to Mike again after he had broken and confessed.
Ziva, for her part, was finding the car suddenly very claustrophobic.
Why was there no air in here?
Feeling hot around the collar, she gazed miserably out of the window.
She should just tell him, right now, she should just tell him.
She got as far as opening her mouth to do just that when a flashing image of a morose looking Abby careered across her inner mind.
Telling Gibbs the truth would mean bringing the scientist down with her.
Gulping, she closed her mouth, and resumed her staunch appraisal of the passing shrubbery.
The elder agent had seen the tentative opening of the mouth, and had guessed the younger agent was about to come clean.
Seeing it clamp shut once more, he inwardly groaned in frustration.
So close.
His cell binged interrupting his chain of thoughts, and listening to the quickened voice of McGee on the other end, all thoughts of his girls' subterfuge was swept from his mind as the case took priority.
One car chase, foot chase and several tackles later saw the suspect in the back of the MCRT van, with Gibbs and Ziva trailing behind on the way back to the Navy Yard.
Upon reaching base, the young woman sprang from the oppressive car with relief and darted after the two boys as they hauled the young detainee into the federal building.
Gibbs looked at her retreating back and sighed.
Why did she have to be as stubborn as he was?
Trudging into the building, he issued the general orders that always followed the wrapping up of a case, and soon all three field agents were immersed in vast quantities of paperwork.
Coming to a forensics snag on his report, Gibbs sighed.
Time to visit the lab rat.
Twenty minutes later, and not armed with the usual Caf-Pow, the team leader strode into the still silent lab.
Placing the report on the desk in front of his eldest girl to get her attention, he wasn't surprised when she jumped in shock.
"Uh…hey Gibbs, what can I do for you?"
Oh I don't know; stop lying to my face…stop disobeying me….stop treating your safety like a joke…
"Chemical composition issue with the case report" he said quietly, pushing the file closer to the young woman.
Nodding, she quickly bent over it and chewed her lip thoughtfully, squirming uncomfortably in the presence of the man she thought of a second father.
Leaning against her desk and folding his arms across his chest, Gibbs looked down at the analyst and resisted the urge to reach out and shake her until answers fell out of her.
"So…" he began, amiably, "Ziva says you two had a good time at your concert the other night. Guess I was wrong about it being dangerous then, huh?"
He accompanied this with a tight smile, discontented in the knowledge that he was as far from wrong as it was possible to be.
Looking up slowly, the lip chewing intensified and Gibbs could practically feel the whir of the cogs turning furiously in Abby's head.
"Uhh…erm, well yeah it was uhm…did you say chemical composition problem?"
With that, she dropped her dark head sharply back into the file and Gibbs bit back a barking reprimand.
"Yeah, some of the numbers don't match previous reports apparently. So, did you get up to anything exciting after the concert? Do anything fun?"
Tensing, Abby stared unseeingly at the pages in front of her.
She needed to throw up.
No, scratch that.
Throwing up was a sign of guilt.
No throwing up allowed.
Biting back the bile of guilt and panic that was beginning to make its way up her throat, she looked up from the report and tried to smile.
Feeling only one side of her mouth twitch, she closed her eyes in aguish.
She must look like some kind of anti-drug campaign.
Fighting to regain her composure, she shrugged.
"N-no… not really" she mumbled, in what she desperately hoped was a nonchalant tone.
Gibbs stared hard at his eldest girl as she dropped her head once more into the file, and ground his teeth together in irritation.
Did these people think he was some kind of Gibbs look-a-like?
Controlling himself, he forced himself to nod acceptingly.
"Oh good, I guess I have nothing to worry about if you go there again then, if nothing I wouldn't like happened this time?
Groaning to herself, Abby reminded herself sternly that Gibbs would feel bad eventually if he shot her and Ziva.
This was really for his own good.
Positive thinking, positive thinking…
"Uhh…n-no Gibbs….you uhm have uhh…nothing to worry about…"
Murder was definitely on the cards.
Staring right through the girls' soul, Gibbs opened his mouth once more.
But, this time, that was as far as he got.
Barrelling noisily into the lab came a frazzled looking Ziva, so intense in her search for Abby that she did not wait to clear the corner to ensure she was on her own.
This was despite the frantic gestures and expressive eye widening Abby was shooting her way.
"I cannot" she exploded loudly, "I cannot lie to him for a second longer. We have got to tell him!"
A heavy silence ensued, so intense it seemed almost mockingly loud.
Stepping out into the younger girls' line of view, Gibbs arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms across his chest.
"Tell me what, Ziva?"
The squeal of misery behind him that escaped Abby was not unexpected, and as he watched Ziva open and close her mouth in floundering panic, he found he just… didn't want to hear it.
"We…well….I mean" she spluttered, looking up at him hopelessly.
No. He'd heard quite enough from his two today.
"Save it" he ordered grimly, "I already know."
The squeal behind him soared upwards in pitch by at least three octaves.
Turning so that he could hold both horrified looking girls firmly in his gaze, he shook his head.
"Unbelievable. You two are unbelievable."
Matching choruses of "Gibbs…" rang out in response, and he immediately held up a hand to silence them.
"My house. Now."
…
TBC
…
A/N: This is my first time writing a different kind of problem solving Gibbs, so please let me know you think about his guilt tripping tactic!
Thanks for reading guys!