Chapter Two: The Replacements
Tony was the first to step off the elevator. Ziva and McGee quickly followed and all three ended up standing awkwardly in the middle of the bullpen. There were no new assignments and all the paperwork on the Shepard case—as they had taken to calling it—was completed.
Sitting on their desks, the team unconsciously faced each other as they had done so many times before. But they weren't looking at each other; their eyes seemed to have trouble meeting.
McGee stared hard at the folders on Gibbs' desk before saying wearily, "I wonder what they'll be like."
Ziva and Tony looked up sharply.
"Who, McGeek?" McGee nodded his head toward his boss' desk and the harmless looking brown folders lying on it. Ziva glanced at them, then turned her head away, blinking rapidly, but Tony heaved himself up from where he'd just sat down on the edge of his desk and walked slowly toward them. Picking up the top folder, he turned it around and around in his hands before shrugging and looking up at his teammates. They were already moving toward him.
Tony opened the folder.
"Christian Bandera," he read, "Philly homicide, 34, transferred by superior for unspecified reason."
Ziva and McGee exchanged raised eyebrows but said nothing. Tony picked up the next folder.
"Alina Chavez, CIA liaison for 2 years, 26. Pretty, too," Tony commented, glancing at her picture. Ziva glared at him.
"Is it just me…" McGee began.
"What Probie?"
"Well, the new agents…they kinda look like you guys. And they have almost the same reps too."
Tony opened his mouth but Ziva cut him off.
"Tony, you know he has a point," she said.
Tony just shrugged again and grabbed the third folder. After reading through it silently, his shoulders slumped.
"Colby Rison, tech expert, transferred from the Maine branch," he sighed, "What's Vance trying to do, replace us?"
"Tony," Ziva said warningly.
"I don't think he's trying to replace us, exactly," McGee said slowly.
"Then what's he doing, Probie? Huh?" Tony's voice came out harsh and cold, "Go on—grace us with another one of your brilliant brain waves."
"Tony! Stop it!" Ziva yelled. She stepped in front of him and forced his eyes to meet hers. "You are acting like a child, Tony. There is nothing to be done. We are leaving tomorrow and a new team will be taking over. So what if they are similar to us? It does not matter. I am sure Director Vance had a reason," she said, putting extra emphasis on the 'Director' in Vance's name.
Tony looked as if he wanted to say something back to her, but a glance at her face made him think twice. She was angry and disbelieving at the same time and…were those tears glinting at the corners of her eyes?
"Tony! Are you listening to me? We only have today to pack. I suggest we forget about all of this and start." Ziva concluded her tirade with a heaving breath and determined stance. Without another word, she marched toward her own desk and began piling the contents of her drawers on top of it, mumbling under her breath about asking someone for boxes later.
Wordlessly, her teammates began to do the same.
After about ten minutes, McGee sighed and looked up. Tony was still obviously moping, but making good progress on his cleaning while Ziva looked almost finished. McGee smiled. 'You can always count on Ziva to beat everyone else to the finish line—in everything,' he thought to himself. He looked down at his own desk and realized he still had quite a way to go. It didn't matter. Tony and Ziva would be leaving tomorrow, but he had a whole other day besides this one to empty his desk. There would be time later.
"Hey guys," he called. Tony and Ziva looked up.
"Wanna go see Abby?"
He watched at the two glanced at each other before quickly nodding. McGee breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.
It was too early to start moving out just yet.