Ok, I would first like to say that I am very sorry that it's taken me so long to get this up. I was working on something else, and I wanted to get that done before I posted this because I haven't been able to write in a while. So I am sorry that I kept you waiting so long. But can I just say, that this chapter is like, pretty dang long. At least nine pages, it's the longest chapter I have so far.

On a bright note (well, for me) I am going to be a godmother again! My best friend is pregnant yet again (she got married a week ago) and her new husband is going to be shipping off to the Navy, for a good chunk of her pregnancy. Which means I'm stuck with her. It's unfair, true, but I get to go listen to the baby's heartbeat next month!

I just want to point something out. Dennis' sister appears in this chapter as well, but, to avoid confusion with referring to her by her last name, Gibbs refers to her by her first name. Her full first name, which is Adley. She's the same character as Lea, as Dennis calls her, and Ley, as Tony calls her. Just want to avoid any and all confusion.

I'll shut up now.

Twelve

After he got off the phone with Denny, the first person that Tony called was Gibbs. He expected to get yelled at again. Needless to say he was surprised when all the older man did was sigh heavily and tell him to sit on the scene until he got there.

Tony waited outside. He guesstimated that Tatum had been dead for a couple of weeks, which meant that he smelled. Terribly. There really was no word to describe just how badly that man smelled. Every time he tried, he almost upchucked.

Gibbs showed up not long after. Tony rubbed at his tired eyes and went out to meet him. He was alone.

"When's CSU gonna be here?"

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow. "CSU?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Crime scene unit. They're the guys who bag and tag and find all of the evidence," he paused at Gibbs' glare, "you already knew that."

Gibbs nodded.

"You don't have a crime scene unit."

Gibbs shook his head.

Tony groaned. "Are you saying that we have to go through this entire crime scene alone?"

"Nah, we won't be alone." Tony almost breathed a sigh of relief when Gibbs continued. "The M.E. will be here in a couple of minutes."

"How did I get stuck with you? Again?" He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and went back inside, moaning and groaning the entire time. He was promised sleep. Actual sleep, and now, by the time they finished processing the scene, it'd be about one in the morning, and he would have to add at least an hour driving time to make it back to his apartment. And knowing Gibbs, he'd want an early start tomorrow morning. He was looking at maybe ten minutes of sleep.

He sighed heavily. "You know any good hotels in the area?"

Gibbs just smiled.

Tony glared as he entered the living room. "I'm holding you to that offer you know. About you paying for my stay."

"Yeah," Gibbs crouched down next to the body, "I figured you would."

They worked out a system pretty quickly. Gibbs would bag and tag the evidence while Tony would take all the required photographs and crime scene sketches. Tony wasn't much of an artist. Actually he was still drawing stick figures. Although he was killer at those lines and circles. But it didn't really matter. He didn't need to be Rembrandt in order to draw a basic crime scene sketch.

Ducky never actually showed up, his assistant did. Tony barely remembered Gerald. He was a man of few words, worse than Gibbs. He was a tall black man, young, probably around Tony's age or so. He was a pretty good guy, at least Tony assumed so. He had never heard him utter more than two words at any given time.

"Time of death, Gerald?" Gibbs asked as he crouched down next to the body.

Gerald just looked at him skeptically. Then he looked down at the body. The man's flesh was seriously decayed, his eyes were gone. What used to be a man was now a leathery, mushy… blob that Tony didn't know how to properly describe. Nor did he really want to.

"I won't know that until I get him back for Dr. Mallard, Agent Gibbs," Gerald said.

Gibbs sighed. He stood up and started moving around the living room again. Tony watched from his place against the wall. He checked his watch. It was pushing midnight already. Damn it, he was tired. He needed sleep. Real sleep, not some little half an hour nap that got interrupted with a kick and pounding headache.

He was right. They didn't finish up the scene until one in the morning. Gibbs was just as anal as Tony remembered him, and made him go over everything three times in a row before he was satisfied that they didn't miss anything. Tony had to physically hold himself back from pelting Gibbs in the back of the head with his camera.

He was finally able to pull himself away from Tatum's house, carrying boxes and boxes of evidence with him. By himself, of course, because Gibbs apparently had a bad back and he couldn't do all that grunt work.

"Is this the kind of treatment I would have gotten if I took that job offer?" He finally asked as he loaded the last box into the back of Gibbs' official NCIS truck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gerald perk up at that.

Gibbs just shrugged. "All Probies gotta schlep for the team. Burley had to do it, Langer had to do it. Hell, even I had to do it."

Tony just grunted. "Yeah, except I'm not a Probie. I don't even work for you!"

Gibbs walked towards the driver's side door. "You do for this case." Tony could literally hear the grin in his voice.

Tony slammed the door to the truck before heading over to his car. His anger was still rolling through him. He was getting sick and tired of being around the older man. Either he was pissed off and growling out threats and orders, or he was completely flippant.

Gibbs called out to him just as he opened his door. "Follow me!"

"Was planning on it!" He said it harsher than he had intended.

He started the car and waited a few seconds for Gibbs to pull out in front of him. Oddly enough, the man didn't push eighty. He was staying at a rather calm pace of sixty-five miles an hour. Granted the speed limit was thirty, but at least he had slowed down a little bit.

The further they drove, Tony started to realize they were going the wrong way. He wasn't all that familiar with the city, but he knew the way back to the Navy Yard. It should have been the same route that he took to get to Tatum's house, only in reverse. But this was definitely not leading them back to NCIS.

It didn't register in his exhausted brain until they pulled over that Gibbs told him to get some rest. The fed had led them to a hotel.

It was a decent looking place, it didn't look too pricey, but it also wasn't rundown either. It was a good mixture.

He felt waves of guilt course through him as he climbed out of his vehicle. Gibbs was already on the sidewalk, waiting for him. Tony slowly approached, keeping his head down. "Sorry, about, well…" he trailed off. He didn't know how best to phrase the apology. "Being an ass?"

Gibbs smirked at him. "Rule six."

It took him a second to remember what that meant. Back in February, Gibbs shoved so many rules at him that he had a hard time keeping track of them all. Then it clicked. "Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness."

Gibbs nodded. He pushed off the wall and headed inside. Tony followed.

The lobby was neatly decorated with potted silk plants and teal paint. The carpeting was thin and rather tough. The clerk's desk took up an entire wall. At this time of night, there was only one person around. He was an older fellow with sagging sad eyes and a pot belly. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. When Tony and Gibbs approached, he begrudgingly sat up straighter.

"Hello, how may I be of service tonight?" His voice was smooth and rather tight. And he spoke with a fake sincerity that would have made any snoot proud.

"I'd like to rent a room," said Gibbs, casually leaning on the desk. At some point he pulled out his wallet and grabbed his credit card. Tony lagged back with his hands in his pockets.

The portly clerk looked from Gibbs to Tony and back again. Now his smile was even more forced than before. Tony bit back a grin. "Would you like a double, single, or a suite, sir?"

"Single's fine." He impatiently tapped his card on the desk as the clerk typed incessantly on his keyboard.

"And how long will you be staying with us?" Again, he looked between Tony and Gibbs.

The older agent looked behind him at Tony with a questioning stare. Tony responded with a shrug. Gibbs turned back to the clerk. "Can we just play that by ear?"

Tony could have sworn that he saw the man cringe. "Of course sir." He typed a few more things. "Now, I'll need a credit," before he could say card, Gibbs thrust out his arm and handed the man his MasterCard. He smiled again before he took it and swiped it through the computer.

A few seconds later, they were handed two key cards. Gibbs stared down at his for a split second before arching an eyebrow at Tony. The younger man simply shrugged.

"Thank you, sir, and I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

Gibbs sent the man one last look before he took off for the elevator, Tony followed close behind. But before he was out of the lobby, he sent the clerk a sly wink. The man sneered as he propped his feet back on the desk. Tony smiled brightly.

Once the doors slid shut on them, Gibbs gave Tony a curious look. "Why would he think that we're here together?"

"Maybe because you booked a single room and asked me about how long you'd need it?" He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Oddly enough, this greatly amused him.

Gibbs scoffed. "I'd have to be pretty desperate to get a hotel room with you."

Tony turned to him, his eyebrows raised in indignation. "You? What about me? I could have anyone I wanted, you really think I'd hook up with someone your—"

Gibbs cut him off, "Finish that sentence, and I will make you walk back to Baltimore when this is over. In cement shoes."

The elevator pinged before the door opened on the third floor. Gibbs strode out first, moving with a level of confidence.

Tony rolled his head around as he followed. "With your charming personality and romantic side. I mean, seriously, Gibbs," he shook his head as he wiped a fake tear out of his eye, "you had me at 'hello.'"

A cleaning lady walked past them on her way to the elevator. She turned and gave them a shocked look. Tony winked at her while simultaneously clicking his tongue. She walked faster.

Gibbs was staring at him again. Tony rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot you only have one TV. Where is that again?"

"My basement."

Tony smiled as he snapped his fingers. "That's it!" He shook his head. "You know, I don't know how you live, Gibbs."

The agent slid his key through the lock and opened the door, a small grin playing on his lips. "Peacefully." He stepped into the room.

Tony shook his head before following.

The room was decent. One double bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in a thin floral comforter. The wallpaper was white. Like every other hotel room in the country, there was a nightstand, a dresser and a small television. It was a pretty basic room. Not that Tony needed much else. He just needed the place to sleep.

Eyeing the bed he realized just how exhausted he was. His body was sore, his head was throbbing. He could use a really good night's rest.

But Gibbs hadn't left yet.

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced back and forth on his feet. "So, um," He clicked his tongue. "Thanks for the room. I'd uh, really like to get some shuteye now."

Gibbs still didn't budge. "We need to talk."

Tony sighed heavily. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

"No." Gibbs stepped closer. "No it can't."

Tony was confused. He had no idea what Gibbs wanted to talk about. If it was about the case, then it probably should wait until he had a few hours of sleep. Otherwise he wasn't sure he'd make a lot of sense. Or did he want to talk about his fight with McCane?

"We need to talk about what happened at the butcher shop."

That was completely unexpected.

"No," Tony started. "No, we really don't."

Gibbs took another step forward. "Yes, we really do." He moved until he was in Tony's personal space again. Only this time, he wasn't glaring. His eyes were… sad.

"What happened, back then…" he trailed off.

Tony huffed. Already he could feel the anger well inside of him. "I'm tired, and I'd really like to go to bed, Sir." He knew that Gibbs hated to be called 'sir,' and he made sure to put extra malice into that word.

He moved around the older man while taking off his jacket. Gibbs grabbed his wrist. Tony froze.

Gibbs' fingers slowly traced the scars that circled his skin. Tony closed his eyes and willed the memories away. "You weren't alone back then, Tony," Gibbs said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you're not alone now."

Tony opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs in shock. Gibbs called him Tony. He never called him by his first name. It should have warmed him, that Gibbs was treating him like a human being for once. But all it did was make him angrier.

He ripped his hand out of Gibbs' grasp and moved into the older man's personal space. "If I want a damn pep talk, then I'll ask for one, Agent Gibbs. Now I appreciate you renting a room for me. But I would really like to get to sleep, if that isn't too much trouble, sir."

He didn't know what kind of reaction he would get out of the older man. Hell, he wasn't sure what reaction he wanted out of Gibbs either. Regardless, Gibbs' expression never changed. Tony never even saw a flash of anger hit the man's face.

"I'm not gonna keep your secret any longer, DiNozzo."

Tony felt the blood drain out of his face.

"I'm not helping you by pretending that it never happened."

"I didn't ask for help!"

"You didn't have to. You're always angry—"

Tony cut him off. "What? And you're a ball of sunshine?"

Gibbs sighed heavily. Tony could see how much the man wanted to raise his voice, but he never talked over a whisper, despite how loud Tony was getting. "You've changed."

"People change!"

"You're always angry, you snap at everything."

"So it's ok for you, but not for me?"

Gibbs continued as if he never said anything. "You've barely made a pass at any woman, and you don't joke around as much."

Tony chuckled bitterly. "Let me guess this straight, you're mad because I'm growing up?"

Gibbs took a second to answer. "This isn't growing up, Tony. You're hiding, and I'm not going to help you do it anymore. I don't care who you tell, or how much you tell them. But by the end of this case, I expect you to," he paused, "say the words."

Tony sighed heavily through his nose. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll do it for you."

"You can't do that!"

Gibbs circled around and started walking for the door. "You better get some sleep. It might be the only chance you get for a while." He was out of the room before Tony could so much as blink.

He slowly sat down on the bed, no longer remotely tired. Funny how Gibbs managed to do that to him.

He sighed again as he ran a hand down his face. He didn't want to talk about this. It was over, and the only thing he wanted to do was put it behind him. But the old bastard just wouldn't let him do that.

Fury consumed him, bubbled up in his chest till he needed to explode. Standing back up, he grabbed the first hard object he found—the TV remote—and chucked it at the door, screaming at the top of his lungs.

The remote landed on the floor in a heap of pieces, but he didn't stop screaming. He didn't stop even after his voice grew hoarse and his throat hurt. He didn't stop until he ran out of breath.

He plopped back down on the bed, his hands moving to cover his face. His eyes were wet, but he refused to acknowledge it.

.

A part of Jethro wanted to turn back around when he heard the scream and the thud, but he kept his feet moving forward. He knew that he was harsh with the younger man, but he wasn't going to back down. He hid the truth for long enough. Now it was time for both of them to face the music.

On his way out of the hotel he made sure to wink at the man sitting at the front desk. The portly bastard just sneered at him. It made Jethro smile.

He climbed into the truck and headed back to the Navy Yard. Once he was there he checked the evidence in the garage and headed back upstairs. When he made it to the bullpen, he found that Stan, Morgan and a young woman were already there.

Stan turned as he walked in. For a second, Jethro saw him tense. "Hey boss."

"Where's Corporal Darklin?" He asked as he stepped closer to the group.

"Interrogation room two. And Julia Chike and Marcus Tatum are down with Ducky already." It sounded simple, but Jethro knew that was a loaded statement. He wanted to know why it took so long for Jethro to get back. He also knew that Stan wanted to question him, but he wouldn't.

"Where's Tony?" Morgan asked, looking towards the elevator as if expecting the young man to walk out.

"Hotel. He's getting a couple hours of sleep." Hopefully.

Morgan turned to him, anger rising in his face. "He's off taking a nap while the rest of us are working our asses off?"

Jethro turned to him. Keeping his face impassive, he said, "I ordered him to." That shut the cop up.

The young girl watched the exchange with curiosity and shock. Jethro thought that she looked familiar. Dark hair that came to her shoulders, dark brown eyes, a dark blue, fitting police uniform. But what really caught his attention about her features was her right ear. It looked like somebody shot a bullet through it. It dipped inward, and the skin rippled where it had healed over.

She was Morgan's sister.

"Officer Morgan?" He asked.

She turned to him and nodded. "Adley. Or Lea, if you prefer." She held her hand out for him, which he took. "It's nice to see you again, Agent Gibbs."

He nodded. "You too."

"You two know each other?" Stan asked.

Adley nodded. "We met briefly on your last shared case."

Jethro watched her face go from impassive to pained. He wondered for a moment just how much she knew about that case.

He turned to Morgan. "Walk me through it. What'd you find at Chike's place?"

At first, Morgan didn't answer. He just kept glaring at Jethro, his teeth ground together. The other two watched in shock.

"Julia Chike was killed in her living room," The younger Morgan said. Her brother turned his glare on her, but she ignored it. "It was a bloodbath. According to Dr. Mallard, she had only been dead for about two hours."

"Beating looked most likely, boss," Stan interjected.

"You canvas?" Jethro glared at his agent.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Yes, boss. Covered the neighbors. Most claimed not to hear anything."

"And the ones who did didn't do anything," Adley finished with a bob of her head. "You'd think that because it's a Marine base somebody would have reacted."

"Why didn't they?"

"Working girl," Morgan finally spoke. "They heard her screaming, they figured she was working."

Jethro was growing angrier the more he heard. A woman was savagely beaten, but all those damn pompous Marine wives refused to look past their own personal biases to help her. Jethro couldn't have been more appalled. "What about Corporal Darklin?" He finally asked.

Stan cleared his throat. "Alive. And pissed. She wasn't exactly thrilled about being pulled out of her house to come sit at NCIS for the night."

Jethro smiled. Good, he thought. "Stan, you handle the interview. Morgan, go down to Abby's lab." He didn't want to send the cop down to see Abby. But she seemed to like him, so it wasn't too terrible. Although he still couldn't figure out why she liked him. "Go over everything that you bagged and tagged at Chike's." He started to walk away, but stopped when he thought of something else. "And find out who really lives there."

He started walking again. He needed coffee. It had been a long day and it was gonna be an even longer night. A good cup of joe was exactly what he needed right now.

He heard footsteps running towards him. ""There's something else, Agent Gibbs." Adley said as she fell into step next to him.

Jethro sighed heavily before he turned to her. All he really wanted right now was coffee, but evidently he wasn't going to get that just yet. "What?"

She took a small step back, her face full of shock. It took her a full minute before she was able to compose herself. "A friend of Jamie Taylor's told us that he witnessed a murder."

Jethro rolled his eyes and started walking again. "Report it to your superiors." Unless he saw a Sailor or Marine get murdered, it wasn't Jethro's jurisdiction.

"Sir, you misunderstood," Adley called after him. "It wasn't the friend who saw the murder. It was Jamie."

Jethro stopped again. He turned around and saw the girl, still slightly fidgety, but trying to appear strong. He had to give her credit for that. He knew that she was young, but someday, she'd probably make a good investigator.

He listened to the story that she told him. Apparently the real Gloria Smith's death wasn't accidental. It was one more puzzle piece, and Jethro had no idea where it was supposed to fit. He didn't even know what the completed puzzle was supposed to look like.

"That's good work." He started walking towards the elevator again. His head was pounding.

Once again, Adley followed him. "Also—"

He cut her off again, only this time with a groan. "What? What else did you find out? How much worse could this mess possibly get?"

She stared at him with her jaw dropped as he ranted. After he finally stopped, she swallowed a lump in her throat before speaking again. "The house belongs to a Private First Class Sam Huntington. He's currently out of town. His grandmother's sick, so he took leave to be with her." She looked down at her shoes. "Just thought you'd like to know."

Embarrassment and guilt flooded his body, but he refused to let it show. He nodded once before he turned around again.

He heard Adley make a noise in the back of her throat. Groaning again, he turned back to face her, glaring intently.

"Is there anything you would like me to do?"

Certainly not what he had been expecting. But it made him grin a bit. "Go home, gets some rest."

"Agent Gibbs—" she started to protest before Jethro cut her off.

"You did good today, Officer Morgan. But you've done all you can do. Now go home." He dove into the elevator before she could stop him again.

So? Please tell me it was at least a little worth the wait? You know I'm trying to please you guys, and I would hate that after that hiatus, you guys got stuck with a lousy chapter. Please tell me it wasn't terrible at least!

Well, I would like to tell you what happens next chapter, but I'm not completely finished with it yet. But there is a bit of an emotional conversation between Dennis and Abby! I'm sorry to those who don't like OCs, but unfortunatley, it is a necessary conversation, both for this story, and for the series as a whole.

Talk to me!

Bob