Less than an hour later, Tony watched Gibbs sign him into NCIS headquarters. The security guards were giving them both strange glances.
Tony decided to give him a friendly little poke. "You don't bring friends home with you much, do you?"
Gibbs ignored him.
The guards' glances became pointed looks of curiosity.
As Tony placed his weapon, backup weapon and loose change in the dish to the side of the metal detector and stepped through, Gibbs scowled at him.
Already having learned that this could mean anything in Gibbs-speak, DiNozzo settled for patting his hands down the front of his shirt. "What, did I drool on myself? It's just so relaxing having someone else drive. Sorry I keep falling asleep on you."
Gibbs tossed a look to the dish. "No knife."
Tony rearmed. "I wasn't planning on cutting through anything today."
Gibbs surged forward and jammed a finger into the detective's chest. "Always. Carry. A knife."
Letting some of the famous DiNozzo charm seep through, Tony clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and smiled broadly. "Good talk." He brushed Gibbs aside and waggled his fingers at the guards, now staring with open mouths.
So far the Navy Yard was proving a nice distraction from the depressing interviews at the academy.
Where no one had cried.
Collins was well-liked, but he'd be forgotten in a year. Maybe less. He had made no deep impressions on any of his friends.
His funeral would be full, but full of dry eyes.
Tony's own would be the same way, whenever it happened.
Sidling away from these unsettling thoughts, Tony concentrated again on his surroundings, and on Gibbs, who was obviously long-familiar with this place. He strode briskly to an elevator in the corner and pushed the down button.
"Your squad room is in the basement?"
"Going down to check with Ducky first. He should have something by now."
"Does he always get to your cases so fast? We're lucky if we get a report back in 48 hours in Baltimore."
"Doesn't usually take him this long." With a little smirk, Gibbs stepped off the elevator and proceeded through a set of sliding glass doors, announcing himself to the room's occupant with, "What've you got for me, Duck?"
"Ah, Jethro," came the faintly accented response from an older, shortish figure bent over an autopsy table, intent upon removing some disgustingly gray organ. "I have no surprises for you. This boy was in good health until his untimely demise. Cause of death was strangulation." He placed the organ on a stainless steel scale, then removed it to a basin and took up a pen to note the weight down.
He hadn't removed his gloves. Tony made a mental note never to borrow a pen from autopsy. Any autopsy. Ever.
"I'm sure you noticed this boy's throat was smashed beyond repair. It was not, however, the cause of his death. Most of the damage occurred post-mortem."
Gibbs asked, "Is it possible the damage came from the officers who tried to resuscitate him?"
"No, I shouldn't think so. The throat was crushed purposefully, with great force and a probable repetitive grinding motion. The force applied was much larger than any accident-prone would-be rescuer could possibly have inflicted." Ducky turned around and started when he caught sight of Tony.
After a startled moment, he glanced sharply at Gibbs. "And who is this young man? And what have you two been up to, my old friend?" Stripping his gloves off and removing his mask, the doctor walked over to Gibbs and took the agent's chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving Gibbs' head from side to side and inspecting the bruises and cuts.
"Awh, hell, Duck," Gibbs jerked his head away like an ornery horse and glared. "It's nothing."
Sensing no introduction in the works, Tony offered his own. "Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore homicide. Nice to meet you, doc."
Ducky's scrutiny shifted from Gibbs to Tony, and he walked over and repeated his action. Tony cast a somewhat panicked expression towards Gibbs. Was he supposed to stand still while the freaking medical examiner examined him? He tried to back away but the grasp on his chin was stronger than he expected.
"I see you've shared whatever scrape Jethro has recently been in. I don't suppose you'll be any more forthcoming than he will be with the details?" The ME reached his left hand up to pull down the collar of Tony's shirt an inch and examine the bruises. "What the devil's happened to your neck? That looks horribly painful."
Another semi-desperate glance to Gibbs showed there would be no help from that area of the room. Gibbs looked pleased to no longer be the focus of attention. Tony fell back upon old habits.
He slowly stretched a full smile across his face, and tilted his head enough to make eye contact with the shorter man. Eyes dancing, he forced himself to relax into the doctor's hold to prove he was not uncomfortable.
Though he was. Very much so.
Lightening the tone of his voice, he tried, "Nothing much to describe, doc. We were both protecting the scene, had to get a little physical. Nothing we couldn't handle."
Ducky let go of his chin but continued inspecting the bruise on this throat.
Suddenly, Gibbs was right beside them. "Bastard elbowed him in the throat, Ducky. He couldn't talk for a while last night."
What the hell? He tried again, this time with a low hum of half-laughter. "You should see the other guy. I'm fine!"
His low hum turned into an indignant squawk when Gibbs' hand came up and smacked him on the back of the head. "Jesus, Gibbs!"
"Don't say you're fine when you're not fine."
"I am fine!"
"By what standard?"
"I'm as fine as you are!"
"You couldn't talk last night, and your knee's been bothering you today."
"Your knee almost gave out on you last night."
"We're not talking about me."
"That's funny, it seems to me we are."
They were interrupted by the sound of the doctor's delighted laughter.
Tony fixed his smile back in place.
Still chuckling, the doctor offered a hand. "Doctor Donald Mallard. Ducky to my friends. And I quite insist we be friends. I think it shall be most entertaining."
DiNozzo accepted the handshake. Glancing at Gibbs' supremely irritated expression, he tried to steer them back on course. "Ducky, any idea what he was strangled with?"
"Judging from the bruising, something wider than a cord. My guess would be a belt, or something of that width."
Gibbs scowled and turned towards the door. "Gotta talk to Abby."
Tony ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down where Gibbs had smacked. With a real and therefore more tentative smile, he acknowledged, "Nice to meet you Ducky."
"And you, dear boy. And you," followed him out of the room.
At least dealing with a female lab tech should be easier.
Tony caught up to Gibbs on the other side of the stairwell door. He jogged up the stairs behind the other man, but made sure to stay to his right and keep off pace.
He didn't want anyone thinking he was following in their footsteps.
It was irritating that he found the scene in the morgue confusing. He considered blowing it off, or making light of it. Crossing over the line into intentionally annoying, perhaps, until he regained complete mental balance. But he was interested to see what a no-nonsense guy like Gibbs would do when faced with some direct confrontation.
As the neared the top of the flight, Tony put on a small burst of speed and sped by Gibbs at the last moment, using his momentum to reach out his left hand and slam the heavy door shut just as the agent started to open it.
He stayed like that for a moment, stock still and waiting to see if Gibbs would jump into action as he had the night before.
DiNozzo wouldn't start a fight with a fellow LEO, but he would certainly participate in one once it was started.
In self-defense, of course.
But Gibbs didn't move. They stood there for a moment, Gibbs with his hand on the door handle but not pulling, and Tony just in front of him, back to Gibbs, hand covering the door and jam two feet above where the other man's hand rested.
The stairs weren't steep or many, and both men were in good shape, but the echo of their breaths could still be heard bouncing off the thick cement walls.
So he wasn't going to start a fight here at his home base, when he knew who he was dealing with, huh? Maybe a little prodding would move the guy's feet. "What the hell was that?" Tony turned his head just enough to cast a dark look at Gibbs, his tone deep and quiet.
Gibbs eyes flashed – he was itching for a fight. But he replied with, "What the hell was what?"
"You think it's amusing to pass me into the clutches of your quack? To watch me be manhandled by a mortician whose hands smell like death?"
Gibbs snarled and pushed forward, forcing Tony to turn to face him. With his face an inch from Tony's, he growled, "Ducky is no quack."
"If it walks like a duck…"
Gibbs slammed his fist into the door, inches from Tony's head. "The nickname is based on Mallard. And he's no fucking mortician, he's a medical examiner. A doctor. One with years of experience as an army medic. Treating living people."
Interesting. Gibbs seemed very protective over the older man. Were they actually friends? Tony's anger dissipated as he considered the new information, but he drew a sneer across his face as he tried another verbal poke out of curiosity. "Yeah, and I'm supposed to believe you jerked away from him and set him on me because you were so concerned for my wellbeing?"
Gibbs backed away about a foot. The rage in his own face drained away, replaced by irritation and something that looked like pity. But that didn't make any sense…
"Hell, I don't need him fussing over me. I actually am fine. You're the one with a purple and black neck."
Tony blinked, though his face gave away no other sign of the mild surprise he felt. That was not the response he'd anticipated.
Gibbs tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "What were you expecting at the academy?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Why'd you have a bug up your butt the whole time we were there?"
"You're mistaken."
"Rarely."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You know exactly what, DiNozzo."
Shit, he did. But he hadn't thought Gibbs was paying enough attention to him to pick up on the hints of unease that had slipped through. As self-punishment for allowing the slip, he told the truth. "Spent some years at a military boarding school."
One of Gibbs' eyebrows shot up. "You a handful as a kid, DiNozzo?"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"
"That's not an answer."
"Funny, it's the answer you're getting."
Gibbs rolled his eyes and advanced upon the door again. "Come on, dumbass." Yanking the door open and out of Tony's now non-resisting hand, Gibbs shoved the detective through, propelling him across the hall and down one door to the left.
There was a deafening noise emanating from the nearest room. Gibbs paused as though fortifying himself, then sighed and walked through the door.
Tony entered as well, realizing as he did that the horrible sound was music. Sort of. More like wailing and screaming set to really bad heavy metal instrumentals, and turned up way too loud, but still – music. Probably.
Suddenly, there was silence. Tony spotted Gibbs with his hand on a stereo; he must have turned the noise off.
"Gibbs!" A tall girl with black pigtails swung with her hands on her hips to mock glare at the agent. Her skin was pale, and her liberal use of eyeliner oddly suited her. At first Tony mistook the skirt she was wearing for a checked schoolgirl-like number, but as he inched closer he realized the "checks" were a pattern made up of tiny, differently-colored skulls. She spun with grace, despite the massive black platform boots on her feet.
Tony edged a little closer and she finally noticed him. "Gibbs, you brought a visitor!"
Gruffy, introductions were made. "Tony DiNozzo, Baltimore homicide. Tony, this is Abby. Don't piss her off."
Abby bounced – bounced? In platforms? – closer to Gibbs, eyes narrowed. "Gibbs, what happened to you? It looks like someone clocked you a good one. No one told me you got into a fight!"
She spun to Tony and opened her mouth to ask a question, but suddenly her eyes slitted dangerously and she stomped forward and peered into his face.
Grabbing his arm, she dragged Tony over to Gibbs, then positioned him like a mannequin so that he was standing at a forty-five degree angle to Gibbs – partially facing the agent, and partially facing Abby.
She walked behind Gibbs and grabbed his arm, holding it out in front of the two of them, towards Tony's face.
Dropping the arm and walking back around Gibbs, Abby pointed a long finger at Tony, then at Gibbs' face, then back at Tony again. "What do you know about this?"
Gibbs spoke up, "Abs, there was a little scuffle near the scene last night. No big deal."
"Little scuffle? My ass, Gibbs. And don't try to play it off like you two got into a fight on the same side. I'm not stupid. I know you caused that pattern of damage," at this she pointed at Tony, "so don't try to pretend like he didn't cause yours."
"Abby, I am not damaged."
She ignored him, and glared at DiNozzo. "Why are you in my lab? You should be locked up."
Tony tried flashing a smile.
Abby growled.
"He started it?" Tony gestured towards Gibbs and switched to his innocent little boy smile.
Abby lunged towards him, stopped only by Gibbs' hand on her arm.
She was actually a little scary. Like a bunny with fangs. DiNozzo backed up a few steps, hands raised in surrender, smile working furiously. "Well, he did."
"If he started it, you deserved it. Gibbs would never start a fight otherwise."
Wow, there was some ferociously serious hero worship in this girl's eyes. Was there a Cult of Gibbs? If so, this gothy chick was definitely the ringleader.
Forcefully but not loudly, Gibbs commanded, "What've you got, Abby?"
She crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at DiNozzo, then turned to report. "I got nothing, Gibbs. All the trash you sent in was trash. Fingerprints correspond to the restaurant staff mostly, though there's like hundreds of other prints scattered all around."
"Murder weapon?"
She scooted over to a computer hooked up to multiple monitors and pulled up an image of what looked like dead neon slugs. "As you can see, there are small pieces of leather embedded in Collins' neck."
Tony was glad to see that Gibbs, also, was still watching Abby herself, and not the extreme enhancement of the leathery slugs on screen.
"Ducky was right, the most likely origin of these particles is a men's leather belt. If you bring me a belt, I can match it to this sample, but I don't have enough of a sample to determine the exact belt."
Impressive. Tony wasn't sure if Baltimore forensics would have been able to pull such small fragments out of a victim. And it certainly would've taken longer than a few hours to get the results.
Abby whirled around. "Impressed? You should be. Team Gibbs is nothing to sneeze at. You better watch your step, mister. Misbehave and he'll take you down."
He was torn between scooting behind Gibbs for cover and wanting to smile at the sincerity emanating from the scary scientist. It was nice to see that kind of loyalty. Too bad she hated him already.
"Abby!" Gibbs glared at her and gestured something that Tony didn't recognize.
She gestured back.
Were they signing? How unexpected.
And…rude.
"I can see you talking about me in front of my back, you know."
They ignored him, and finished their rapid-fire silent conversation.
"Just do it, Abs," Gibbs said tiredly.
"Okay," Abby relented, obviously reluctant.
Great. Now what?
Gibbs added aloud, "Collins' computer is down in evidence lockup. Do me a favor and check it out – let me know if you find anything interesting."
With a kiss to Abby's temple, Gibbs turned and headed out of the lab. "Come on DiNozzo, now it's time to see the squad room."
Not particularly keen on being left alone with a mad scientist, Tony followed. But before he exited the room, he stuck his tongue out at Abby.
Then he ran.