The Only One Who Can Stand the Gibbs-Stare
Chapter 1
A battle of knowledge
"Grab your gear, we have a dead man on Navy ground!" Gibbs said while walking into the bullpen with a cup of coffee in his hand. The team jumped up and walked to the elevator.
They got out of the car near the crime scene and found some marines present to keep an eye on the place until they arrived. Gibbs walked to a guy standing beside the yellow crime scene line.
"Who are those two?" he asked while pulling the line up so his team could enter. He looked at two men who seemed to be just civilians. One, short with blond hair and a military stance, stood away from the body, looking at the other guy. The second man was tall, had black curly hair and a long dark coat. He knelt on one knee next to the body and seemed to be looking at something near the victims ear.
"They found the body, sir. Apparently they're British police." Gibbs looked at the man sceptically, then stepped under the line and walked to the tall, dark haired man. He noticed the shorter man also came nearer.
"Who are you and what are you doing at my crime scene?!" Gibbs barked. The man turned around and stood upright. He showed his ID.
"That's not you," Gibbs said.
"True, it's not me. You're the first to notice, actually."
"And you are not British police either, are you?"
"No, I'm not. The name is Sherlock Holmes, this is my friend Doctor Watson."
"John Watson," John said, holding out his hand. Gibbs ignored it and continued to look at mister Holmes.
"We have our own medical examiner, thanks." The whole team was watching the conversation, until: "DiNozzo, David, McGee!" Gibbs called. They all jumped, for he had not turned to them, and then at once said: "On it, Boss!"
"They tell me you found the body."
"We did. The man was tortured for two days, then shot a few hours ago in the opening of the door of this little building, with a badly cleaned 9mm gun from just outside the open window on the other side of the hallway. He lived alone and– "
"Wait, how do you know all that?"
"He's a consulting detective," John said.
"It's my job to know, who are you exactly?"
"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. So you know everything?"
"You, McGee, come here for a moment!" Sherlock called. McGee turned around and lowered the camera. "What?" The rest of the team also stopped and looked.
"He obviously has a big dog, sits too much behind his computer, almost came too late this morning, and," he paused, looked interested and then said: "And his colleague calls him names." Sherlock looked around. McGee was clearly shocked, the others surprised. "This one, Tony DiNozzo, is unsure of his feelings for David, has money, but doesn't want to show it to everyone, plays guitar, but doesn't practise consequently. He also watches a lot of movies." Tony's mouth fell open, but Ziva hit him with her elbow and he immediately closed it.
"Ah, and then David. She feels for DiNozzo like a friend, not romantically. She also is far stronger than she looks. You, 'Boss', build something big with wood, using hand tools, you have been in some kind of military service and have the habit of hitting your Senior Agent, DiNozzo, on the back of the head when he doesn't work when he is supposed to. You were married, multiple times, probably first widowed. Convinced?"
The team looked amazed, although Gibbs kept his face blank. Then he smirked. "You guys, back to work!"
Ducky was walking towards them, Palmer trotting after him, greeted Gibbs and started examining the body.
"So, mister Know-it-all," Gibbs said, "What do you think happened here?"
"I haven't finished my theory yet, but I've a good idea. I will tell you the facts I know. This man was held by his captors for the past two days and tortured. I know there were at least two from the wounds. We found him here, shot two and a half hour ago by a nine millimetre gun from the window opposite to the door in the hallway, while he tried to enter. He is in the habit of smoking and lives alone not too far from here. He's not married and he has no job and so has probably not yet been reported missing."
"Boss, he has some toes missing!" Tony called to Gibbs.
"Oh God, Sherlock, you did not steal them, did you?!" John cried.
"Of course not! I don't have the space for experiments now. And by the way, this man was murdered, I would not steal or destroy evidence!"
"Oh, and the pink suitcase then?!"
"I did not steal it, I found it. That's a big difference." Gibbs shook his head and called one of the marines to stay with the two. Then he went to see what his team had found.
"Boss, this guy is not a marine," McGee said. "He's not in the fingerprint system. We did find an ID on him. This is Michael Riddle. His ID says he's 37, not married, no kids, lives alone about five miles from here."
"He was shot by a nine millimetre gun," Ducky said, "died two or three hours ago."
Gibbs cursed. How did this man know everything?
"Boss, what is it?" Tony asked.
"Mister Holmes knows too much about this case."
"And us," Ziva added.
"Could it be he did it and tries to bluff himself out now?" McGee asked.
"It is possible," Ducky said from where he sat.
"I don't trust him," Tony said, looking at the tall man talking to his friend from the corner of his eye.
"How about taking him back to NCIS and interrogate him?" Ziva asked.
"Good idea. DiNozzo?"
"Thanks Boss!" Tony hurried off to take the men back to NCIS. This was totally a good idea, because otherwise he would have to sit in a car driven by either Ziva or Gibbs.
A/N: First, thank you for reading this. That alone I really appreciate. Second, thanks in advance if you review or follow or favorite or all of them. Third, I ought to thank my beta-reader: AllThatIWant. You are great!
Next point: I do not own Sherlock or NCIS or any of its characters. I'm also not making any money of this.
If you like this first chapter of my first own fanfic, you should thank Goldfishmind for pulling me into this world.
Thank you guys, more are chapters to come!