Saturday, 0821, Bethesda Naval Medical Center

Gibbs awoke to the sound of soft voices. "I don't know, Abby. I still don't even know why she came back, or if she was there by accident."

"I wasn't formally introduced to her, but you should have seen her and Ziva going at it. I don't think Ziva likes her much. I had to tell them to stop fighting over my Tony."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, his misgivings audible in his voice.

"They weren't fighting over you," Gibbs said without opening his eyes, amused by the little startled squeak Abby gave when he spoke. "Ziva was just not happy to see Dr. Benoit." He opened his eyes and saw Abby sitting on the bed next to DiNozzo, the head leaned up to a slightly reclined position. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and Gibbs wondered how early Abby had woken him up.

"I wasn't real happy to see her," DiNozzo said, and Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "I was afraid Brody would snap her in half."

"You didn't notice her inside the bar?"

"Nope." Tony shook his head. "Not much use, am I?"

Abby smacked him on the thigh, and DiNozzo winced. "Don't say things like that about yourself!" she exclaimed. "You've been depressed. I noticed, but you wouldn't talk to me about it."

"Abby –"

"No, it's fine if you don't trust me. I –"

"And just exactly how much did you tell me about Michael Mawher?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"I wanted him restrained, not killed. I went through legal channels. I did what any sensible girl would do."

"Any sensible girl would have told her family, so they could pummel him," DiNozzo said.

"Are you sure you're not from the south?" Abby asked.

"No, I'm from an Italian family in New York."

Abby nodded slowly. "Point taken."

Gibbs cell phone rang, and he answered it. "Gibbs."

"Are you with Tony?" Ziva asked without preamble.

"Yes."

"Perhaps you should step outside for a moment."

Gibbs rose and jerked his head towards the hallway. "Back in a minute." Tony raised his eyebrows, but Gibbs just stepped outside without enlightening him. "What is it, Ziva?"

"We were followed from the hospital last night," she said, and Gibbs felt his muscles tense. They'd humored DiNozzo's paranoia, but Gibbs hadn't seriously expected trouble. "I did not feel that the hotel was the safest place for her, so I took her back to my place. We shall have to make more secure arrangements for her henceforth."

"Where is she now?"

"I took her by her hotel to get cleaned up, then brought her to NCIS with me."

"I'll be there in an hour or so."

"What shall I do with her?"

"I don't care. Is Ducky there?"

"I have not seen him, but I have had not had reason to check."

"Is there anything else?"

"What should McGee and I work on?" Gibbs didn't say anything, allowing the silence to hang heavy on the line, waiting for her to fill it in. "Gibbs, I cannot come up with this for myself," she said after a moment. "You told us to do nothing. I do not know where nothing begins and ends."

Gibbs blinked. She had a good point. "Get Harris's financials and check for any complaints against him." He hung up and dialed again. "Ducky?"

"Jethro?"

"Can you please come out here and stay with Tony?"

"I should be with you in just a moment." Gibbs realized then that he could hear Ducky's voice from down the hall, and he closed his phone. "Hello, Jethro. How is the patient this morning?"

"Gossiping with Abby," Gibbs replied.

"Has that girl gotten no sleep?"

Gibbs snorted. "Not much. I'm going to send her home."

"Better you than me," Ducky said frankly.

Gibbs ignored the whining and was resolute. In this he was aided by Tony, who was still not very desirous of company other than him or Ducky. He walked Abby out to her hearse and saw her off before checking that the gate guards still had Harris's name on the do not admit list. Reassured on that point, he went back to the office.

When he got there, he found Ziva in a state of frustration. "It should not be this hard to call up his financial records," she fumed quietly.

"Where's McGee?"

"He is escorting Dr. Benoit to the restroom," Ziva said. "He is having difficulties, too, however. When he called up Harris's police files the same thing happened as happened yesterday with Abby's computer. He's got something tracing packets again, whatever that means."

Gibbs started towards his desk to put his gear away, but Cynthia walked into the bullpen before he'd gone far. "Agent Gibbs? The director would like to see you in her office immediately."

He raised his eyebrows, but Cynthia was not given to exaggeration. He hurried up the stairs and straight into Jen's office where he found an unknown man in an expensive suit talking to her. "Special Agent Gibbs, allow me to present Agent Ashley Preston, CIA." Gibbs nodded, but he didn't say anything. "He's here to talk to us about Detective Harris."

"Unless he's going to provide us with evidence that will enable me to arrest him today, I'm not interested," Gibbs said.

"Actually, I'm here to tell you to leave him alone," Agent Preston said.

"Not happening," Gibbs replied shortly.

"Don't you even want to know why?"

"No."

"Agent Gibbs?" Jenny said in a warning tone, and Gibbs glowered at her.

"Are you familiar with the name Eliseo Vargas?" Gibbs didn't say anything, he just gave a sharp nod. "Detective Harris has a connection to him that we'd like to exploit, but we won't be able exploit it if he's in a jail cell, or if he falls apart the way he appears to be doing now." Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I've come to make a further request."

"What?" Jenny asked, and Gibbs wasn't surprised. Preston had focused all his attention on Gibbs, disregarding the agency director he had theoretically come to see.

Preston turned towards her. "I would like you to encourage Agent DiNozzo to return to his relationship with Detective Harris. It would –"

Gibbs took a step towards the man, but before he could speak, Jenny did. "Over my dead body," she snapped. "Agent DiNozzo has already suffered more than one injury at that man's hands. I will not countenance any sort of continued relationship between them."

"The injuries only started after Agent DiNozzo initiated the break up," Preston said as if he genuinely believed the nonsense he was spouting, and as if he thought it would make a difference to their response. "Harris follows a very predictable pattern. He's not abusive in any way unless his partner makes an attempt to leave the relationship."

"Are you saying that he's done this before?" Jenny asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," Preston said, shrugging.

"And that you were aware of DiNozzo's relationship, but did nothing whatsoever to warn him?"

"The break up came about unexpectedly. We're still not sure what caused it."

"Your non-abusive friend punched him," Gibbs said sourly. "He objected."

Preston seemed startled by this information, but he continued his pitch unchecked. "Regardless, your agent is known for excellent undercover work, even to the point of seducing his target, so he should be able to manage this." Gibbs contemplated strangulation. It would make the bastard shut up, and it would get him out of their hair. On the other hand, it would be difficult to put Harris in jail if he was in jail himself. Preston seemed oblivious to their reactions. "You can't deny that this is an important investigation."

"Agent DiNozzo doesn't do that kind of undercover work anymore," Jen said. "And I will not ask him to engage in a relationship with a man who has sexually assaulted him."

"Don't you think you're overstating things a bit?" Preston asked.

"No," Jenny replied flatly. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, regardless of whether you're willing to speak to Agent DiNozzo, I must ask you to cease your investigation of Detective Harris. Our needs in this matter take precedence." Gibbs shrugged. Preston turned towards Jenny. "Director Shepard?"

"Our investigation will continue, Agent Preston, and the information you have provided will be included in our reports."

"You'll be hearing from my director," Preston said.

"I'm looking forward to it. Do let him know that I have a meeting at ten."

Preston left the office and Gibbs looked at Jen. "He's already putting up roadblocks," he said.

"Deal with them," Jen said. "How is Agent DiNozzo? Has he given you more details?"

Gibbs shrugged. "How do you think he is, Jen?"

"Are there any further complications?" she asked acerbically.

"He passed out last night, but Dr. Tsu didn't seem very worried about it. She did say she wasn't going to release him today."

"Good. Has he told you anything important?"

"This is the second sexual assault since DiNozzo ended things," Gibbs said, and Jen pursed her lips unhappily. "And he did end the relationship because Harris punched him. He didn't tell me the circumstances, just that there wasn't a good reason."

"Keep after him for more information."

"You think, Jen?" She gave him a dour look, and he left the office. As he trotted downstairs, his cell phone rang. "Gibbs," he said after flipping it open.

"Agent Gibbs, this is Gunnery Sergeant Jackson. Detective Harris just requested entrance. He didn't take well to being refused."

"Is he gone?"

"Yes. He raised a stink, but when I suggested we'd call his superiors, he left."

"Good," Gibbs said. "Make sure everyone knows what he looks like."

"Already done, Agent Gibbs. He the one who put your man in the hospital?"

"Why do you ask?"

"He kept insisting that he had to see Agent DiNozzo, asked me to let Agent DiNozzo know that he was here."

"You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Thanks. Let me know if he makes any further attempts."

"Certainly."

Gibbs hung up and went down to his desk where he found Dr. Benoit sitting in his chair, reading. He paused at Ziva's desk and raised his eyebrows. "I did not think it appropriate to seat her at Tony's desk," she said quietly.

"Dr. Benoit?" Gibbs said, and she looked up. "Please sit over there." He pointed to the empty cubicle behind McGee.

"I thought I'd go to the hospital," she said. "I'd be safe enough there, I already know you've had them bar Detective Harris from access."

Gibbs contemplated the idea. "That might work, but DiNozzo still probably won't want to see you."

"If he changes his mind, I'll be there," Dr. Benoit said calmly.

He nodded slowly, briefly contemplating the situation in the longer term. "Sounds reasonable, and since staying with Ziva obviously caused no major problems, I think we'll stick to that for the duration."

Dr. Benoit gaped at him, and Ziva rose to her feet. "Gibbs!" He turned and raised his eyebrows. She drew him towards the windows. "That is high handed, even for you," she said softly.

"Yes, it is," Gibbs replied, shrugging. "But I don't have time to worry about her safety or her accessibility. The CIA has used her before. Take her back to her hotel to collect enough of her things to be going on with and then drop her at the hospital."

Ziva's eyes had grown troubled. "The CIA?" she repeated, and Gibbs nodded with a grimace. "What did the director want?" she asked uneasily.

He was aware of Dr. Benoit coming up behind him, but he ignored her presence. "The CIA wants DiNozzo to go on letting Harris fuck him and beat the crap out of him because they think Harris is connected to a drug kingpin they're investigating."

Ziva's eyes flashed. "They cannot be serious."

"Of course, they can," Dr. Benoit said, her voice brittle, and Gibbs wondered about her associations with the CIA since they'd last met.

"Oh, Dr. Benoit," Gibbs said with disingenuous surprise. "I didn't see you there." Ziva raised an eyebrow. She knew him well enough to know that he hadn't missed the other woman's approach. "I've asked Officer David to take you to your hotel so you can get enough things to see you through the next day or two. Then she'll take you to the hospital."

"Agent Gibbs, I can make my own decisions," Dr. Benoit said.

"Do you object to staying with Ziva?" Gibbs asked, and before she could make any reply, he added, "DiNozzo obviously thinks she can keep you safe." He knew it was a low blow, and he could see from her expression that she recognized his tactics. It had worked the previous night, however, and it worked now.

"Fine," she said irritably.

Gibbs watched them go then went to his desk. McGee looked over at him. "What was all that about?"

"The CIA thinks DiNozzo should continue his relationship with Harris because it would aid an investigation of theirs." McGee blinked at him and returned to work, his whole body screaming about his discomfort with the topic. "There a problem, McGee?"

McGee looked up, his eyes wide with alarm. "No, Boss."

"I think there is. You want to tell me about it?"

"Boss?"

Gibbs gazed at his youngest agent for a long moment, then came to a decision. "McGee, conference room." He got to his feet and strode across to the elevator, not looking to see if McGee was on his heels. They stepped onto the elevator together and Gibbs hit the switch. "What is it, McGee?"

"There isn't a problem, Boss," McGee said, but he wouldn't meet Gibbs' eyes.

"You have an issue with DiNozzo sleeping with another man?"

McGee turned scarlet, but after about a second, a word burst forth from him. "Why?!" He looked at Gibbs. "It doesn't make sense. Tony could have any woman he wanted, why would he go with a guy, and a guy like that? I don't get it. It's so not Tony! It's just not. I mean, okay, so he's a little metro, but he's so not gay."

Gibbs was caught off guard by one of the words McGee used. "McGee, the only things I know that involve the word 'metro' are newspapers and subways. What are you talking about?"

"Metrosexual," McGee said, and Gibbs stared at him. "He likes his clothes a little too much." Still lost, Gibbs shook his head. McGee waved his hands dismissively. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I just don't get it. Tony is not gay. I mean, Ziva said not all guys who sleep with guys are gay, but I pretty much thought that was the definition."

Gibbs stared at him. "Tim, have you never heard of a 'buddy fuck'?"

McGee flushed so red that Gibbs was surprised he still had enough blood to remain conscious. "A what?"

Gibbs sighed. "Okay." He didn't even begin to know how to explain this to him. "Look it up on the internet," he said and hit the button again. They went back to their desks, and he suspected McGee dutifully did as he'd been told because his color kept heightening from time to time.

Palmer walked into the bullpen. "Agent Gibbs, do you know where Dr. Mallard is? He said he'd help me with my –"

Gibbs looked up. "He's at Bethesda with DiNozzo."

Palmer's eyes widened. "Oh, does he need my help?"

"With what?" Gibbs asked.

"The body," Palmer replied, and Gibbs blinked at him. Palmer took in his reaction with confusion. "Aren't they there on a case?" he asked.

"No, DiNozzo was attacked last night, and Ducky's sitting with him."

Palmer's jaw dropped. "Tony was attacked? By who?"

"By a cop," Gibbs said.

"A cop? You mean that guy he was seeing?"

Gibbs stared at Palmer in silence for several seconds, long enough for the younger man to start fidgeting nervously. "You know about that?" Gibbs demanded.

"Sure," Palmer said, and Gibbs glared at him. "I mean . . . I saw them once or twice. Tony asked me . . . not to mention it . . . so I didn't."

Gibbs noticed that McGee was staring at Palmer, too. "How long ago was this?"

"A couple months," Palmer said. "I got a really bad feeling about that guy."

"And you never told anyone?"

"I told Tony," Palmer said. "He said everything was fine."

Gibbs set his jaw. "The man has sexually assaulted him twice since he broke up with him."

Palmer's eyes snapped with anger. "What are we doing about it?" he asked intently.

"We're investigating," Gibbs said. He gazed thoughtfully at Ducky's assistant. "Maybe you could help. DiNozzo told you about this relationship?"

"Only because I ran into them a couple of times, like I said," Palmer said. "He said it was just a . . . a buddy thing." McGee's head came up, and he looked startled.

Gibbs nodded slowly. An unexpected resource had appeared at exactly the moment it was needed. "Mr. Palmer, I have an assignment for you. A very delicate assignment."

"Of course, Agent Gibbs. Anything to help."

"McGee, take Palmer out to lunch," Gibbs ordered. McGee's eyes widened and he started gear up. "Palmer, screw his head on straight."

Palmer looked at McGee, then back and Gibbs. "I . . . don't understand."

"You will."

Saturday, 1035, George Washington Memorial Parkway

Jeanne sat in the passenger seat of Ziva's car, her mind whirling. Agent Gibbs had said the CIA wanted Tony to 'go on letting Harris fuck him.' She kept turning the words over in her mind, trying to make sense of them. After a while, she cleared her throat. "Did Tony have some kind of a relationship with Detective Harris?" she asked.

Ziva didn't answer immediately, and for a few moments, Jeanne wasn't sure she would answer at all. Finally, she let out a sigh. "Yes, he did."

Swallowing, Jeanne considered what that might mean. "Is . . . is he gay?"

Ziva's brows went up, and she looked over at Jeanne with an odd expression. "No," she said curtly. "He is not gay."

"Red light," Jeanne said, because Ziva was still looking at her and not slowing down. Ziva blinked at her, seeming perplexed until Jeanne pointed. She turned, and, brakes screeching, they came to an abrupt halt behind a red SUV, throwing both of them forward against their seat belts. Jeanne resettled herself in her seat, breathing hard.

"Sorry, I learned to drive in Tel Aviv," Ziva said. Jeanne wasn't sure how that explained the not looking forward thing, but she didn't comment. They were both silent until the light changed and the car started moving again. Then Ziva spoke abruptly. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone hostile and accusatory. "When you left, you demanded that he abandon his own life and come after you, and when he did not, you returned and accused him of a murder he did not commit. Why are you back now?"

"It wasn't like that!" Jeanne exclaimed, stung by the other woman's words.

"In what way was it not like that?" Ziva demanded. "I was there when he got your note. I did not see what it said, but I could see the effect it had on him."

Jeanne stared forward out of the windshield. "It's not really any of your business why I'm here," she said woodenly.

"No, I suppose it is not. I am just the one who has to help Tony go on functioning when you've ripped him to shreds again."

"That's not my intention," Jeanne said.

"Of course it is not," Ziva snapped. "Just as it was not my intention to have this conversation with you. You can see how that turned out." She pulled up in front of the hotel and handed her keys to the attendant. "We will be coming right back down," she said.

"Of course, miss," the attendant said.

"You needn't come with me," Jeanne said.

"You need to stop telling me how to do my job," Ziva replied sharply. "I have guarded far more important individuals than you. I know what I am doing, and I am not doing it for you."

They got into the elevator. Fortunately there were other guests present, so they couldn't continue their conversation. Jeanne didn't want to hear any more of what Ziva had to say. Some of what she'd said held a certain amount of truth, but she didn't know everything. Jeanne led the way to her room, and, as she had that morning, Ziva took the key from her hand and went in first. Jeanne waited in the hallway until the other woman announced that the room was clear.

"Can I assume you have an ironing board?" Jeanne asked, going to her closet.

"Yes, I have an ironing board," Ziva replied sarcastically.

Jeanne grabbed a duffel and began to pack it, not even sure why she'd felt the need to jab at the woman in such a petty way. Once she had her clothes, she gathered up the medical journals she'd been saving to read when she had time and put them in a book bag, then turned to find Ziva watching her curiously. "What?"

"Nothing," Ziva said. "Are you ready?"

"I am."

"Do you wish to return to my apartment to leave your things, or can we leave them in the trunk of my car until this evening?"

"Which do you think is more sensible?" Jeanne asked. "I don't know if you'll be the one taking me back there."

"I certainly hope I will, or you will not be able to get in. No one else knows my alarm codes."

"Then your trunk should be fine."

Ziva nodded once and led the way out of the room. Jeanne followed her back down to the car, which the attendants had moved out of the way. Ziva reclaimed her keys, and they stowed Jeanne's duffel in the trunk. Jeanne kept the journals. No doubt she'd have more time than she wanted to read them while she waited for Tony to be willing to see her.

The drive to Bethesda went silently, and Jeanne was glad not to be fighting. Her gut was already roiling with confused emotions. She didn't need any help from a near total stranger. What did Ziva know about her anyway? A thought occurred to her suddenly, and she turned to gaze at the other woman. "How much did Tony talk about me while we were dating?"

Ziva looked over at her, her eyes unreadable. "Almost not all. We were not privy to the secret. He mentioned your name a few times, we knew he was seeing someone, but we did not know anything at all about you."

"Didn't that seem weird?"

"Not really." Ziva shrugged. "He . . . we thought he didn't want to be teased any more than he could avoid."

Jeanne had difficulty imagining Ziva doing anything so lighthearted as teasing, but she probably wasn't seeing her at her best. "Would you have teased him?"

"We teased him a fair amount, but knowing nothing about you beyond your name made it difficult to get specific," Ziva said.

"Nothing at all?" Jeanne asked, mildly astounded. "But Tony talks so much."

"Often Tony talks a great deal while saying very little," Ziva said, and Jeanne nodded. That was certainly true. "No, I did not even know you were a doctor, so the frequent phone calls from a hospital gave me cause for concern."

"Tony's healthy as a horse," Jeanne said, remembering the extra care he'd taken on the one occasion he'd had a cold. It had seemed almost hypochondriacal.

"He has not always been," Ziva said.

Jeanne blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

Ziva pulled through the gates into the hospital grounds. "I have said too much already. I am returning to NCIS." She handed over a card. "That is my cell phone number."

"Thank you," Jeanne said, and she got out of the car.

"Hey!" Ziva called as Jeanne started to turn away. "Do you have any money?" Jeanne shook her head mutely. She hadn't even considered that she still didn't have her purse back. Ziva dug in her pocket and pulled out a tightly folded bill. "I will call before I come to pick you up." Without another word, Ziva pulled away. Jeanne took a deep breath and went into the hospital.