I'm so sorry for the long wait, guys. Thanks, all of you for the reviews, alerts and favorites that remind me to post more chapters of this story. I know I posted that I'd continue posting once the story was finished, but a mass of things came up. So far there are thirteen chapters, and it's still not done. But I'll post the chapters in (hopefully) regular intervals. Once again, thanks you guys. You're all fantastic.
The door swung open smoothly, on well-oiled hinges and slammed into the wall. Tony had braced himself for the sharp noise he knew would come, but he jumped slightly anyway. He could hear Tim's breathing momentarily increase in fear, but steady almost immediately. Good, that's good Probie. Don't call attention to yourself.
Tony tried to peer out the door, but the hulking man from the house, a knife held comfortably in one hand, blocked it. He folded the blade and slipped it into his cargo pants' pocket, then stepped softly aside for the petite figure behind him. Tony peered past the figure but wasn't encouraged by the view, a long dark hallway and concrete walls. The figure walked into the room, a spring in her step. She slipped daintily into the circle of light from the low-watt bulb hanging above the men's heads, her features now illuminated clearly. Claire, a gentle smile still upon her features.
"Hello." She greeted them pleasantly, turning to both Tim and then Tony. Her gentle smile deepened slightly, a strange joy lighting up her features. Shadows filled the crevices on her face, turning an innocent looking smile, to something twisted. Tony heard Tim sharply draw in a breath, as he caught sight of her expression. "So," She gazed at Tim. "How are you?"
"Not good, I couldn't find another matching sock this morning, and then some neighbor kid stole my newspaper. Which sucks, I didn't get to read the sports section." Tony quickly interjected, drawing, to his delight, her attention away from Tim. He sighed dramatically. "But what are you going to do?" He shrugged. Claire half smiled and then nodded to the large man, who stepped into the room and shut the door with a bang. This time Tim jumped, his nerves fraying slightly, Tony poked Tim's hand in warning.
The man stepped awkwardly into the ring of light, not looking at either of the agents. Something clicked as Tony gazed at the man,
"Do I know you?" Tony gazed questioningly at the man, who looked startled and met Tony's stare.
"I don't think so." The man answered, a deep rumbling tenor. Tony tilted his head to the side.
"You sure? In an interrogation room? You did something naughty, didn't y-" Tony stopped as the man's eyes grew hard, he didn't even see the fist before it connected with his face. Tony coughed, spitting some blood, but then grinned stupidly. "So I do know you from somewhere!" Tony felt Tim turn to look at the man, and saw his face pale.
"You're Daniel Hart." Tim declared monotonously. Tony could hear the cleverly veiled fear in Tim's voice, and understood at once. Multiple homicides, first degree murder. Went to jail, but managed to break out and kill a few guards on his way. Tony swallowed. Oh no. He took a deep breath,
"So, Claire" She gazed at him, a curious expression on her face. Tony internally winced, wonderful, that might not be her real name. "Why are you hanging out with him? Are all beautiful women attracted to murderers?" She ignored him and turned back to Tim. Tony felt panic nibble at the edges of his calm exterior. Claire smiled and looked to Daniel, who nodded grimly and stepped over to Tim's side. No, no, no! Tony smoothed over his mask, composed himself the best he could, and smiled at Claire.
"So I guess it's not all beautiful women, huh? Just the unstable, psychotic ones." Tony knew he was dancing into fire, but Claire just smiled dangerously.
"Oh, you don't know how right you are." Tony gaped openly at her lighthearted, and incredibly dark response. She nodded to her thug. Tony felt Tim's head smack into his own, stars flashing in his eyes. "So, why is," She pulled a few objects out of her pocket, their badges. "NCIS investigating?" Tony didn't answer, neither did Tim.
Tony heard the rush of a fist displacing air, heard the thump and then a soft crack. Tony closed his eyes, trying to block out the soft moan emitted from his friend.
"Why do you think?" He glared venomously at her, she giggled.
"Oh Agent, Dinozzo did you say? Why does anyone ask a question? To get an answer." Claire looked deeply at him, her eyes dancing. There was another soft thump, a moan. "Ah, he was a sailor, wasn't he?" She said in a knowing tone.
"You think?" Tony turned at Tim's tone, condescending and mocking at the same time. He was turned toward her, a large bruise already blossoming on his face, which was contorted in anger. Tony raised his eyebrows. Claire clearly hadn't been expecting an answer from him, and was caught off guard.
She opened her mouth, but then closed it awkwardly; her train of thought tossed off the tracks. A slight pink tinge crept onto her cheeks. Her mask fractured for a second, piercing anger showing through. Tony clenched his jaw, wishing he could break his bonds as several more punches found their mark, another crack or two, a snap and then the sickening sound of a liquid dripping onto the floor. Tony winced in pity; Probie was going to feel that in the morning. Claire walked over behind Tony so she stood in front of Tim. She turned to Daniel.
"Your knife, please." Her voice sounded, cold and calculating. Tony felt his breath catch in his throat, he could feel Tim stiffen and shudder. Tony tugged desperately at his bonds, rocking the chair slightly. He didn't notice the man had walked over to his side until he punched him in the stomach.
"Stop." Tony looked up from trying to replace the air that punch stole from him to Daniel. Was that apprehension? On a murderer's face? "Claire, let me." Daniel turned to the woman, who grinned up at him.
"Sure." Her hand barely lifted to give him the knife, when he struck out hard at Tim's head, connecting fiercely with a loud knocking sound. Tony felt Tim go limp, as limp as he could go tied to a chair, his head slumping onto his chest. "You idiot!" Claire hissed, before checking Tim's pulse. "He's alive. You could have killed him, we may need him later." At her statement her face turned thoughtful. "Or perhaps not. Maybe we should just get rid of them." She gave a small smile. Tony involuntarily swallowed.
With a look of keen interest, she shoved the chairs off balance so they crashed into the ground. Tony felt his head connect with the cement. The darkness rushed in, clouding his vision.
"They're just dead weight anyway." Claire's voice echoed around him, distant and unfocused. As darkness covered his vision, a final image was burned into his eyes. The man and woman leaned over him, one with a look of strange glee, the other a look of mixed pain and uncertainty.
The world darkened, faded, and was black. Tony lost consciousness.