AN: Someone asked if it wasn't awkward saying Anne-Marie and Mari all the time. I see Mari as being pronounced Mah-ri, in case anyone's wondering.

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Chapter 3

Claire looked defiantly up at Tony, as if daring him to argue about it. He put his head on one side and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "O-kay, Cooplet… you're going to have to explain that, don't you think?"

"Don't grin at me like that, Tony!" Claire's voice shook a little. "Like I'm some hysterical adolescent who doesn't know what she's talking about!"

Tony went on smiling. "You've come up ahead to talk about it," he said. "So I'm thinking you don't want your Mom to know what we're talking about. So don't look so earnest. Shall I show you my scar?" He lifted his left arm out of its sling, and began to push back the tubular bandage he wore on his forearm to protect the stitches from knocks. Claire squeaked, but she looked at the injury anyway.

"Now," Tony said, "That's got a suitably impressed look on your face… so, tell me, then."

"It's only little things," Claire said earnestly. "Like, expressions I've seen on his face when he knows Mom's not looking. He switches off the charm, and looks… calculating. He turns it back on again as soon as Mom comes back in the room, or turns towards him… Like, like… "

"Come on, li'l Coop, tell Tony…" his whole body language suggested to anyone back down the path that he was sharing a joke with his young friend, but his eyes held her up through the struggle.

"He's not stayed the night yet… but the other day I was coming out of my room, and he was looking through Mom's bedroom door at her bed, as if he were planning… but Tony, it wasn't a romantic look… I could have understood that, it was… a smirk; he looked self-satisfied. It gave me a nasty feeling in my stomach."

She bit her lip. "He saw me looking – well, I was glaring at him, and he pasted on a smile – I pushed past him before he could say anything – now sometimes I catch him looking at me like he'd like to throttle me. He likes being in control… he's not happy when Josh is around because Mom takes notice of him, and anything that Mom or I suggest, he manages to make the opposite happen; and he's so sweet about it Mom doesn't even notice."

Tony was aware that the others walking behind were closer now, he could hear their voices although he couldn't make out the words. "OK," he said. He raised his voice. "Aw, you're a scrawny little thing," he said loudly. "You'll never catch me. Bet you can't." He set off at a run, and the teenager, quick to understand what he was doing, scampered after him, chestnut hair, the same colour as her brothers, bouncing round her head, long, skinny, tanned legs flying.

"I am not scrawny!" she yelled. When they were far enough ahead again, Tony grabbed the trunk of a sapling and swung round it, coming back to face her.

As he raised his eyebrows in question, she began again. "If I tell Mom I want to do something he tries to persuade her not to let me… like I said I was going to go over to Ginny's, and he started on as if I wasn't even in the room, about how it was better for youngsters to stay home and study on weeknights. I told Mom I didn't take orders from him, and went. When I got back he'd gone, but Mom sat me down and started giving me the talk, very gently, about how she understood it was difficult for me to adjust… as if she's going to marry him. He's only been around three weeks! I told her she didn't need to be saying this, I've never been against her finding someone else, just not him. I told her he was phoney, and she got upset. I went to my room and closed the door, and phoned Josh. He and Anni agreed to come down this weekend because they could see I needed to talk to them"

"What does he think?"

"He's not seen as much of him as I have, and he warned me that it could just be a clash of personalities, until I told him what I haven't told Mom yet, cuz I don't think she'd believe me."

Tony's eyes widened, and he tensed. He couldn't help his mind jumping to the most obvious conclusion – if it were that he'd rip the man's liver out. Claire hurried to reassure him. "No, he's not interested in me. Josh thought that, too. No, he began by treating me like a sweet little girl – of about ten," she added with teen contempt.

"Then when he found out he couldn't charm me, he started just pretending I didn't exist, or getting the odd dig in to Mom. But one morning, Mom had gone over to see Nadia about something, and he arrived while she was gone. I was out in the back yard shooting baskets, and I saw him in the study. There's no need for him to go in there… He didn't notice me. He was looking through the filing cabinet where Mom keeps all the financial stuff."

Tony pursed his lips again, relieved that he'd not been looking back and the look on his face wouldn't have been seen by those behind. He worked on the tension that he'd momentarily displayed in spite of his best efforts, and eased his body back into relaxed mode. "Don't like the sound of that," he said. Out on the lake, two ducks began to fight. Mrs. Donald was very mad about something, and was waling all hell out of Mr. Donald. Tony pointed, and they watched for a moment, but kept walking. "What happened? Did he see you?"

"No. I wasn't sure which drawer holds which, but I went back and looked later, the one he had open at the time has bank statements, and insurance policies."

"Ah."

That one flat word almost made Claire crumple; Tony saw it, thought damn! and went back to joking. "Come on, MiniCooper… we'll fix this – smile for your old Uncle Tony!" He thought for a moment. "I've never been nosy about your Mom and money, Claire… I know the Marines look after their own, and I know they helped put Josh through Princeton. But if your Dad took out any sort of decent insurance, in case…"

"In case what happened, happened," Claire agreed sadly. "I looked. Mom's worth enough to interest any bilkoing bastard –" she stopped, wide eyed with shock at what she'd said. Tony simply grinned. "She's been through enough… more than anything I don't want her hurt, yet again!"

Tony kept the huge grin on his face, as he looked back down the path to see where the others were; he flicked an approving look at Ziva and Jack; they were dawdling so the others couldn't get past them. "What did Josh say when you told him?"

"He said not to give away anything to alert Alistair, and we'd talk to you. You're rubbing off on him, Tony!"

"So are you, Princess."

She giggled, and then the mischievous smile she'd worn for a moment faded. "So you don't think I'm imagining it? Has my family suddenly become a huge trouble magnet?"

"Gut feeling? I disliked him on sight, couldn't figure why. I think Ziva did too. Josh is right. Don't do anything… but don't worry, either." He went Godfather for a moment. "Ho alcuni amici molto buoni, tesora…we're going to find out a few things."

Claire frowned thoughtfully. "I got friends… and very good…" She giggled again. "I think I got the 'tesora' bit too… but alcoo- whatever it was…"

"Alcuni. Some. I have some verrry good friendsa. I meant it – don't wo-"

He was interrupted by an excited shout from Anne-Marie behind them.

"Mari! Tim!" Tony's attention had been so much on Claire that he hadn't noticed his friends coming from the other direction; he assumed they'd started to walk round the lake the other way. Claire whooped and ran to meet her friend; the wedding date hadn't been set yet, but Claire, certain of being Anni's bridesmaid come June, was into all things wedding, and still hoping to land the job for Mari. Anyway, she hadn't seen the ring yet.

Tony was glad of the distraction for her, and since the mountains were already crowded, he wasn't upset to see McGee as well. Now if he'd been alone with Ziva… Tim looked a little embarrassed, and the SFA wondered why. What was McGee doing here anyway? He grinned.

"Hey, McMountain Man –" he saw Marianne roll her eyes good-naturedly at the latest nickname – "Have you got Abby and the Boss in that back pack? Ducky, maybe?"

Mari went off to talk to the girls, and Tim stepped up close enough to lower his voice a bit. "No, Tony, I know the place is getting a bit crowded, but apart from the food there's just a laptop. I was tracking you with it. Gill's car's still got the tracker I put on it before we went to Princeton for the Graduation." Tony's eyebrows went up, and Tim forestalled the next question. "Why? I went sappy on you."

"You did?"

Tim explained the thinking that had brought him here. "When I asked Mari what she thought, she said that Josh and Anni were intending to come, and maybe Claire, I was even more convinced… and then she implied that something was up with Claire…"

"Don't look at her, McGee," his friend whispered urgently.

"'S all right, I'm not. Something is up, then… The absolute truth – my gut. I thought I should come."

Tony was silent for a moment, touched, not that he'd admit it, no problem, McGee would know; his eyes said thanks even while his mouth teased. "Yay… McSherlock! Your gut was right. You've turned up in the middle of a major mystery. Don't look at him either, but has Mari said anything about Gill's new boyfriend?"

"Only in passing… Anne-Marie mentioned him one time, but nothing much." By now, Tim had turned, and was retracing his steps as the others continued their walk. They were more than three-quarters of the way round, and both agents stomachs suddenly growled. "Hey… our guts…they agree," Tim said.

Tony nodded. "Competing on volume?" He added thoughtfully. "I think the plan's to eat lunch here – I could have found a nicer spot than next to a diner… but listen… when we're all done eating, you and I clear up, OK? We keep an eye on which cup he drinks from, his food wrappers…"

"Finger prints and DNA even. You got any evidence bags on you?"

"Never leave home without them. You, McScout?"

"Of course. And gloves. You think this guy isn't who he says he is?"

"Claire doesn't. And you're not the only one whose gut's on fine form today."

"O-kay… you won't want him to know he's being investigated?"

Tony's grin was predatory. "If he's a crook, I want to end the day by arresting him, not having him scarper."

"It'll make up a bit for having your chill-out day hi-jacked."

"Just a bit. What's on your mind?"

"Chain of evidence. We sit as far away from the litter bins as possible, then after lunch Mari and I take the trash, go and dump it, subtly extracting what we need, then we disappear for a while. You say something DiNozzo about why we've vanished, Ziva tells you off, Mari and I hide behind the Ranger Station, photograph any visible finger prints, send to Abby."

"Nice plan, McDevious. You could do one more thing, if you fancy risking your life."

Sigh. "Go on."

"Call Gibbs. Or ask Mari to do it, that's safer, isn't it? Ask him to go to Gill's house. He can pick the lock, or Nadia can let him in... Ask him to finger-print the cabinet in the study. Claire says he's been snooping in it. Then Abs can see if there are any to match what we very sneakily and skilfully obtain."

"Sounds good. He could ask if Nadia's noticed anything, just to build up information."

At that moment Ziva came up. The group was bunching up again as they got near to the picnic area, and she pitched her voice at a level that anyone could hear. "Are you two talking shop? I thought we came out here to forget work? If you're still complaining about the dry-cleaning bill from the Bronowski case…" Jack had explained to her very quietly that Claire had needed to talk to Tony, (and then spent the rest of the walk mesmerised by this kick-ass woman who carried a Sig,) and she wanted to know what was going on.

Tony draped his arm casually round her shoulders, and put his lips close to her ear. He knew he'd regret the nearness, smelling her light perfume and feeling the heat of her skin, but it was the only way he could think of to pass on the information.

"Some time during lunch," he whispered, "Suggest to Claire that she goes with you to feed the ducks, and ask her to tell you what she told me. Remind her not to look at him; from what she says, the good doctor could be a real bad'n."

Ziva was both very sorry, and utterly relieved when his arm, and more especially his lips were removed from her vicinity. Just as she had done lying against his shoulder in the car, she felt safe with his big, solid body touching hers, and his arm around her. But his breath on her ear, his lips tickling at the corner of her jaw, and his soft, pleasant voice, sensuous as if he were whispering endearments… it was unjust that he could have such an effect on her with so little effort.

He saw her discomfiture, and resolutely refused to tease her about it. He remembered what he'd vowed when she'd offered to come with him, and kept to his vow. There was no other way to handle it.

She didn't sit next to him while they picnicked, he sighed inside, but he wasn't surprised. He watched her when he got the chance – she had the appetite of a horse, and stayed tiny, delicate and slim. He wondered how she did it, but most of the time, he was covertly observing Gill and Alistair. The doctor only seemed to have eyes for Gillian, and once again did the same trick he'd done in the car; if anyone spoke to her, especially Josh, he'd very soon pull her attention back to him.

Josh looked unhappily over at Tony, who nodded back slightly. The younger man relaxed a little, knowing that the agent was on the case.

When Ziva suggested to Claire that they feed the leftovers to the many different waterfowl, both of the watching agents observed what the young girl had told Tony of. Alistair took his attention away from Gillian long enough to say "Aren't you going to help your mother with the clearing up, Claire?"

The teenager's eyes flashed, and her chin went up; her mother looked unhappy, but before she could defend her daughter Tim said smoothly, "The ladies made a wonderful meal; the gents will clear it up." He produced one of the grocery bags that the food had travelled in, inside it an open evidence bag was concealed. In a matter of minutes, he and Tony had everything they needed.

"Give me that stuff, Tony, Mari and I'll take it to the bins."

Tony looked from one to the other, and his smile broadened into a leer. "Sure, McGee," he said, inflecting as much nudge nudge into his tone as he could, and the two grinned and moved off. The tall agent looked across to where Jack, Ziva and Claire were throwing everything from bagels to chocolate cake to the water birds. There was another fight going on, Tony wondered if it was the same happy couple, and let his thoughts drift on the subject.

Claire and Jack… maybe the first time either of them had ever been part of one. Good luck to them, nice kids that they were… Two engaged couples, four people he thought the world of. He reflected on how his friendship with Tim had been stretched… strengthened… solidified; nice alliteration, DiNozzo, maybe you should write a best seller about two young computer geniuses who fell in love and faced mad scientists.

A couple who he was pretty sure shouldn't be one, and however arrogant it sounded, if he got proof of that, he was going to do something about it… And a couple who weren't a couple… who should be… who probably never would… which was where all this musing had been taking him… you've been over this, DiNozzo – over and over for four years. Enough, already.

Two young women, both blondes, came down one of the trails on horseback. They saw him leaning on a picnic table, looked at each other, and smiled encouragingly at him. He gave them a polite smile, but his eyes were far away. He didn't know how long he lounged there, watching the lake, before Tim and Mari came back down the path. Tim stopped at his car to put his coat in the trunk, since it was a warm day; only Tony knew what else was going in there. The big agent, who Gibbs always said never missed things like that, caught very clearly the look of jealousy from Alistair when he realised that the Porsche belonged to the young agent, before it was expertly smoothed out.

"Abby just rang me," Tim said. "She wanted to know if we were having a good time. I told her she should have come…" Tony shook his head wryly, at the joke that only he understood. "She's gong to phone you," his friend went on. "She wants to tell you about Sister Rosita's latest exploit." Nice work, McGee. Forewarned. Less than a minute later, Tony's phone buzzed against his hip. Gibbs. He faced away from McLennan and Gill.

"DiNozzo… what are you up to?"

"Oh, Hi, Boss…I thought Mari had told you all about that stuff."

"Well, yeah. I'm on my way over there now, to do what you asked…"

"Oh, hey, Boss, thanks! It'll sure save me a lot of –"

"Shut up and listen."

"Shutting up, right away." Back in DC, Gibbs ground his teeth; the trouble magnet had found it yet again, and he was too far away….

"Tony –" Uh-oh, first name… "Tony, Dr. Alistair McLennan, grief counsellor at Bethesda, is a retired psychiatrist aged sixty-eight, who does the job on a voluntary basis, and is currently on his retirement cruise in the Greek Islands. I don't know who you've got there, but watch yourself, cuz it sure as hell isn't Dr. McLennan!"

AN: Sorry, not much action… all coming soon…