Their next case looked like a straightforward shooting but in the event there was nothing straightforward about it. The data they had collected from the crime scene, contradicted the witness statements and the forensic evidence just added to the confusion until they were getting no-where fast.
Sipping on his fourth coffee that morning Gibbs slipped quietly into the back of the lab as Abby and his two field Agents argued back and forth over how the bullet had ended up in the aluminium siding.
"There is no way Warren could have made that shot from the alley," Abby objected. "It's just not possible."
"And yet we see the bullet." Roberts pointed out.
"Maybe there was two of him," Abby theorised. "You know, like those twins, who look identical, wear the same clothes, live in the same house, the witnesses wouldn't be able to tell them apart?"
"Who lives like that?" Roberts protested.
"Barbara and Brenda Williams," Tony offered. "Identical Twin Blonde Cheerleaders. I dated Brenda for a while. At least, I think it was Brenda. It was really hard to tell them apart."
"Double the trouble?" Abby couldn't help herself.
"Double the fun." Tony grinned
"You have anything to add on the case, DiNozzo?" Gibbs reprimanded.
He wasn't surprised when, instead of a guilty flinch, DiNozzo just turned and gave him a broad, welcoming, grin. The Italian always seemed to be aware of his presence. Gibbs was pretty sure his hearing wasn't that good, the Marine knew how to move silently, but he suspected that the coffee and sawdust gave him away.
"As a matter of fact ..," Tony began. Gibbs watched as the Italian stepped closer to the plasma and peered at the representation of the crime scene. Gibbs could almost see him thinking, as he studied the evidence. He let him take his time. Now that he was actually focused DiNozzo had the damndest way of making a connection between apparently random and unconnected event. "What if the shooter wasn't in the alley? What if he was in the ladies power room?"
"Do you think, for once, you could leave your sexual fantasies out of this, DiNozzo?" Dawn wrinkled her nose.
"Some of the best women in cinematic history have been men." DiNozzo wasn't cowed.
"Do NOT give me examples!" Roberts held up a hand.
"No, as much as I hate to admit it, I think he might be right," Abby was suddenly enthusiastic as her fingers flew across the keyboard inputting the scenario. "Look, it would explain the trajectory."
"Abby, I can't believe you are buying into this," Dawn huffed. "Williams was under surveillance the whole time. There was no way he could have snuck off to the ladies powder room."
Gibbs looked over the edge of his coffee cup at DiNozzo, his blue eyes meeting the dark green ones. The younger man didn't back down as his Boss continued to regard him with the kind of piercing stare that had made hardened Marines falter. Satisfied Gibbs gave a small nod.
"Spit it out DiNozzo."
The gruff tone belied the pride he felt that DiNozzo had pieced this together, making the intuitive leap that Abby's science; Dawn's strategy and even his own gut hadn't been able to fathom.
"It wasn't Williams who made the shot," Tony grinned. "It was Harris."
Gibbs his grin in his coffee cup, letting the Italian bask in his moment, as Dawn and Abbey regarded the Italian with open-mouthed surprise, before turning back to the plasma; twin looks of stunned realisation creeping across their faces. Only when DiNozzo's expression turned a little too smug did the DI inside of him feel the need to bring him up short.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Grab your gear."
Arriving at the base, the soldier on the gate directed them to the basketball courts where Harris was talking in low, furious tones to a Hispanic man they hadn't seen before. As they exited the car Gibbs took a second to be proud of how smoothly his newly formed team reacted. Following his lead they drew their weapons and stealthily approached, DiNozzo peeling off at a tilt of Gibbs head, like a well-trained sheepdog, to circle around Harris and box him in. Taking his stance, Gibbs raised his weapon.
"NCIS. Federal Agents. Freeze."
There was a second when Harris' eyes widened and he stopped dead, his expression registering nothing but shock as he saw the three, armed, Agents and knew that the game was up. He had been found out. Escape was futile and surrender was his only option.
But he still ran.
DiNozzo took off after him, moving before Roberts could react. Even as he secured his suspect Gibbs tracked him with his eyes, watching the Italian steadily gaining on Harris until they both disappeared behind a range of trees.
"You want me to go after him?" Roberts asked.
"DiNozzo can handle it," Gibbs was confident. "He was a College football star."
"Yeah?" Dawn looked grudgingly impressed. "What happened?"
Gibbs didn't query the fact that she assumed he'd know. Dawn knew how thorough his background checks were. Still, he didn't think that DiNozzo would appreciate him sharing all the details of that particularly painful titbit. Gibbs could respect that. He knew how hard it was to let go of a dream.
"He got injured." He was deliberately vague.
Just then DiNozzo appeared over the horizon propelling a very pissed looking Harris in front of him. Judging by the long graze on the side of his jaw, he hadn't gone down easily. Gibbs didn't even try to feel sorry about that. The puffy swelling around DiNozzo's eye and the way he was limping was a different matter.
"Wow, that's gonna be some shiner, DiNozzo," Roberts mocked, as soon as Harris was safely stowed in the car. "Didn't they teach you how to duck at the Police Academy?"
Gibbs watched with displeasure as a few nearby grunts snickered loudly, causing DiNozzo's face to flame with embarrassment. The ex-marine didn't mind a little hazing within his team, expected it really, but he expected his people to have each other's six in public. He waited for a patented DiNozzo come back but the Italian just pressed his lips together and jerked his face sharply away from Dawn's touch when she tried to get a closer look at his eye.
"Stay here and take these men's statements," Gibbs ordered her. "See if they overheard anything Harris was saying."
"Gibbs," Dawn protested. By now a small crowd had gathered. Taking every statement single-handed would be a slow, repetitive and ultimately most likely fruitless task. None of them had been close enough to hear anything that would stand up in court. "How am I supposed to get back?"
"Call a cab." Gibbs threw over his shoulder.
He waited until Harris was safely stowed in the sedan before turning his attention to DiNozzo. Mindful of his reaction to Dawn's touch he merely stepped in a little closer and inspected the damage with a practised eye. He didn't miss the way DiNozzo stiffened at the attention, as if anticipating a dressing down.
"You okay?" He asked softly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony blinked at the unexpected compassion. "I'm sorry. I should never have let him get the drop on me. It was stupid."
"Yeah, you should have, and next time you will," Gibbs reprimanded mildly, DiNozzo was already beating himself up about this for both of them, he didn't need the Marine coming down on him hard for a relatively minor mistake. He'd still got his man when all was said and done. His eyes narrowed as they tracked across his injured Agent. "Ankle?"
"Twisted it a bit," Tony allowed. "I can still walk on it."
Gibbs nodded, accepting that. Then he dropped his gaze to the red and rapidly swelling hand that DiNozzo was attempting to hide behind his back. Nodding in the direction of the boot print clearly visible on the back, he raised a brow before asking in a deceptively mild tone.
"What about your hand?"
"Ah," Tony visibly winced, torn by his desire to play down his injuries and his reluctant to lie to this man who actually seemed to care what was going on with him. "I don't think it's broken. I kinda know what that feels like."
"Uh huh," Gibbs wasn't unduly concerned. Granted, DiNozzo's jacket listed all his work related injuries and there was nothing in there about broken bones. Still, the Italian could be talking about his busted leg from that football game, or maybe a childhood accident. Gibbs would bet his boat that DiNozzo was the kind of kid who climbed trees. Still, he wasn't about to take any chances. "When we get back you let Ducky check you out."
"Ducky?" DiNozzo visibly paled as his he looked at the ex-marine with open disbelief. "Gibbs, he treats dead people. That's not exactly a shining endorsement of his medical skills."
"Still has a great bedside manner," Turning his back to the younger man, Gibbs smiled broadly as he moved towards the car, watching out of the corner of his eye to see that the Italian was managing to keep up on his injured ankle. "He's stitched me up a time or two."
"Still," DiNozzo made a face as he fell into step behind him. "Dead people?"
"Your choice DiNozzo," Gibbs was uncompromising as he came around to the driver's side of the sedan. "Either you let Ducky check you out or we're all taking a trip to the Hospital."
"Fine, I'll go see Ducky," DiNozzo huffed. Then he paused, tipping his head on one side. "He does have an office, right. I mean, I don't have to sit on the tables where the dead people go? Do I? Gibbs?"