Thanks to everyone who has left such kind feedback! It's very driving, and most appreciated. How excited is everyone for "Baltimore" to air next week? Oh, it better be gooooooood...
Angry, but doing his best to hide it, Tony exited his car calmly, caught the keys Gibbs tossed at him, and went back down to the morgue.
What right did Gibbs have to be pissed at him?
Hadn't he just gotten them in and out of the stupid school in under two hours? Found the missing kid? Talked him out of the stupid one-story window?
Spilled his fucking guts in front of mister cranky-pants?
Not that Gibbs needed to know any of that shit was true. He probably wasn't listening, anyway. Was probably just pissed that DiNozzo took over.
But seriously – that kid wasn't a child in need of soothing. Certainly ot by telling him his absent parents were worried about him.
Where did Gibbs get this crap, anyway? Did he grow up in Mayberry?
"Ah, Jethro," Ducky greeted, alone in the cold room. "Your…someone called me to remind you about a particular appointment this afternoon at five o'clock sharp. Hello, Anthony."
Gibbs plainly searched his memory for a moment, then recalled whatever the doctor was elusively referring to. His expression grew downright stormy.
Tony ignored it. Like he cared. They could be evasive all they wanted. Didn't matter to him at all.
"You got anything, doc?"
Ducky peered at him oddly, then replied, "Yes, perhaps. There were several DNA samples collected across the cases. No one has compared them yet; we are in the process of doing so now. We've also checked across all cases of a similar nature in the surrounding states – everything I could get my hands on, anyway. I couldn't find anything markedly similar. I believe you've found what's to be found, my boy."
Was that supposed to make him feel better, that there weren't more? It didn't. More might have meant more leads. Earlier, sloppier kills.
"You ready to go, Duck?" Gibbs asked shortly. "Need a ride back to HQ."
Wasn't like Tony wanted to drive him back there anyway. Not that he'd been asked.
"Yes, I can finish the rest of this in my own autopsy," Ducky agreed, gathering files together. "Perhaps we could get some lunch together, first?"
"No time."
Apparently used to brusque replies from the special agent, Ducky amicably moved faster. "All right then, we'll just grab something on the way."
He turned to Tony as they entered the elevator. "I trust I'll be speaking with you soon?"
Charmingly, Tony agreed. "Count on it."
Gibbs tossed him an indiscernible look as the doors slid shut, and Tony increased the wattage of his smile. Gibbs' expression turned from stormy to raging in a heartbeat, but then he was gone.
And Tony was alone, again.
He preferred it that way.
Jogging up the stairs and ignoring the pressure pounding in his knee, he headed straight to Whitford's desk at an amble. "Leo! My man. What's up, what's going on, what's the word?"
The slight man looked up from his monitor quickly. "Tony!" Leo shot a quick look to Mallace's office. "Now's maybe not the best time."
Voice lowering, he added, "Captain's in a particularly special mood. You should keep clear."
DiNozzo felt the buzz that dared him to draw out the risk. His eyes and smile sharpened, but the rest of this body relaxed as he lounged nonchalantly against Whitford's desk, appearing as though he had nowhere better to be.
Making sure to keep his expression vapid, he nudged Whitford with his foot. "What's the buzz?"
"Not a bad idea for you to be working offsite, and with a fed. Mallace is starting to catch on, and he's sure to want a whipping boy to take down with him when he falls."
DiNozzo shrugged. "He can yank at me if he wants, I don't topple over so easily."
Leo had just cracked a smile when the door opened and Mallace poked his square, bulging head out of the door. "DiNozzo!"
Blinking, Tony slowly turned and registered the captain. "Oh, hey, cap! You look really nice today. Did you get a new tie? See, a lesser man would think the purple didn't go with the orange. But you…" He smiled and shook a finger at the other man. "You've got your own kind of style, you sly dog."
Mallace looked down at his tie, as though contemplating his detective's words. His neck disappeared as he did so, increasing Tony's hope that he would one day retreat completely into his shell and get lost inside his own empty mind.
An evil genius of a boss would be great right now. Some mastermind plotting to take over the city. Someone he could pit himself against.
The captain huffed hot air on his tie and tried to shine it with his fingertips.
Last week he'd locked himself up in his office for an entire day. The building betting pool guesses ranged from the guy actually trying to fill out a form to speculation that he forgot how to open the door.
Turned out he was just waiting for Leo to leave his desk long enough to steal the kid's three-hole punch. When they'd invaded Mallace's office later that night – sure the three hole punch couldn't have been used for actual police paperwork – they'd found several impressive-sized binders gracing the desk behind the captain's desk. Inside were small, snack-sized bags of chips held in place by neat little holes punched in the top of each bag.
If he'd been a well-meaning moron, the precinct would have absorbed the loss of a competent captain and worked out a hierarchy of their own for command decisions and assignments. But sadly, he wasn't.
He was the meanest fool in the history of clowndom. And the one thing he was good at was remembering a grudge.
Nearly all of which were against Tony.
To say he drew the captain's negative attention on purpose was…well, it was true. But DiNozzo knew he could handle it. And – sometimes – it was fun.
Sadly, his fashion baiting was lost on the captain, who returned to his office admiring his own neckwear, having forgotten whatever punishment he'd intended to inflict upon Tony.
Feeling a bit dejected that he couldn't even draw out the stupid bear, DiNozzo gave a forced wave at an empathetic-looking Leo and wandered back to his desk to complete the follow-ups and stray bits of paperwork his other cases demanded.
An hour later, he stood and stretched out, intending to call the hospital and run down Solas' alibi. He'd have done it regardless, but the general sense of unease he felt around the shrink made him eager to check today. Just in case.
Then he realized Gibbs still had his phone.
The anger that had been swirling around inside him for the past two hours solidified in a satisfied, concentrated angerball behind his stomach.
He'd go to the hospital himself to verify the alibi. Screw landlines, he'd rather talk to someone face-to-face anyway.
Then he'd find Gibbs. Find Gibbs and reclaim what was his.
Walking into NCIS HQ, Tony was greeted by one of the same security guards he'd met two days before, along with a fresh face.
Familiar Guy nodded at him. "You still got the pass we gave you last time?"
Mildly surprised, DiNozzo pulled the guest pass out of his wallet. "These things are good for more than a day?"
"Can be. Especially for other law enforcement personnel working with an agent on an active case. Yours was set up for a week."
Not Familiar Guy offered, "I'll call someone down to escort you."
Familiar Guy stopped him. "No need. He's Gibbs'."
"I'm not Gibbs' anything," came a more venomous reply than Tony had intended to make.
Oops.
"We're just working an investigation together."
Smooth, DiNozzo.
Familiar Guy raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, pal. You've got free rein here this week unless Gibbs changes his tune about you."
"That's it? An agent has that kind of power to grant free access to a lowly local LEO?"
Not Familiar Guy gave a half-shrug. "Depends. But Gibbs? Generally Gibbs gets what Gibbs wants. It's one of the main rules of the building."
Torn between envy and disgust, Tony thanked the guards and went looking for the phone thief. Remembering their route from the previous day, he headed to autopsy first.
Through the glass doors, he could see Ducky pacing the room and talking to himself. Tony considered stopping in, but there was no one else in the room and he didn't want to pause for a pleasant chat.
He wanted a fight. Any kind of fight. Even a bicker would do.
Continuing the path from his previous visit, he headed to Abby's lab with a minor amount of trepidation and a fat load of glee.
She certainly hadn't taken to him, and didn't seem the shy type. There must be fight possibilities here with Gibbs out of the picture.
He walked into the din and considered his possibilities. What would really grate?
He decided to turn the music off.
When silence fell, she whirled around. "Gibbs, I didn't –"
He was wrong. Silence hadn't fallen before. A lack of incredibly loud music had fallen. Now, as she spotted him in her lab unaccompanied by Gibbs, now silence truly fell.
She stared at him with a particularly keen intensity. She didn't look angry or lustful, so he didn't like it.
He returned her stare, but the more he saw, the squirmier he felt at his original intention of picking a fight with her.
Yes, she was hardcore with the tattoos and the chains and the black eyeliner and the black nail polish. She looked like she could handle herself, too. There were muscles on that body.
But there were also little girl pink Strawberry Shortcake binders holding her pigtails up, and her eyes were too good. Not broken, not wary, not tired. She looked a little innocent, and a lot wholesome, despite her trappings.
Oh well, he was here. Let the fight ensue.
Except…something tickled at the back of his mind.
"Tattoos."
She tilted her head to one side. "Very good."
"How many do you have?"
"Wouldn't you like to know!"
"No. Well yes, but I meant do you know enough of the scene to track down the artist of a particular tat?"
"Likely. Whose art?"
"Collins. I noticed he had one, not brand new but new enough. No scabs, but a tinge of pink around the edges, you know?"
She nodded emphatically. "I know. I'll check it out."
"Thanks. It's probably nothing…" He was losing control of this conversation. He hated sounding stupid, and he couldn't give her a good reason to check out the tattoo. It was just a sudden urge.
"We do 'it's probably nothing' well, here. I think a third of all our cases are solved on it."
She was still staring at him, her face relaxing even more as they interacted. She was bright-eyed and curious, like a cartoon.
Suddenly, Abby put out a hand. "Stay still."
This was new.
She walked toward him. Checking the new damage to see if Gibbs' fists had created any of it?
As she got closer, he started to back up.
"I mean it, don't move. A muscle. Got it?"
He stayed still, but didn't like it.
Abby pushed right up into his face, their height nearly identical due to her continued use of platform boots.
He wanted to bounce a foot. Flick his fingers. Retreat.
She dared him to stay still by not losing eye contact from four inches away, their noses nearly touching.
She leaned forward.
Tony very nearly panicked.
He wasn't prone to panicking.
Was she going to kiss him? There was no flirtation between them.
Maybe she was going to scratch him with those massive black-painted nails?
She wouldn't bite him, would she? Had he seen her teeth? Did she have fangs?
Abby leaned in, rested the left side of her face against the right side of his, and encircled him in a bear hug.
He froze. Not the forced stillness of before. There was no tension in his muscles now; he just ceased movement, nearly stopped breathing, waiting to see what she'd do.
She held on.
And held on.
And held on.
After an eternity, she spoke quietly in his ear. "Traditionally, one returns hugs unless they find the hugger repulsive. Are you saying you find me repulsive?"
He was fairly sure the words were intended as manipulative, but his arms raised nonetheless and wrapped themselves around her back.
He thought she'd squeeze and then step back, but instead she snuggled.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to move?"
"Well you can move when I tell you to move," she replied with great exaggerated patience.
Her head moved to his shoulder, and he found himself able to breathe a little easier.
There was no sexual overtone to her movements, but there was an overabundance of easy physicality. She liked to touch, it seemed.
Strange.
He drew a hand across her back, slowly, hesitantly, in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. Maybe she was upset, needed reassurance.
She sure didn't seem upset, but maybe.
Her shoulders felt so tiny, her body so narrow next to his, despite their similarity of height. Suddenly he felt like he could break her.
"How can you feel so fragile and look so tough?" Had he meant to say that aloud?
The stiffness of his posture slowly faded. He couldn't quite return the leaning cuddle, but he cradled her as best he could.
He felt her smile against his neck. "Most things that look tough on the outside aren't so hard on the inside. And I don't break. Bigger men than you have tried."
He chuckled, appreciating the use of humor in…in whatever this situation was.
"I need you to remember that."
"Bigger men? Great for my ego."
"Just remember. Don't leave him, okay?"
He pushed away from her a little, though she wouldn't let go. "Gibbs?"
"Of course."
"This is about Gibbs? You don't want me to leave him?" Some of the anger that had dissipated started to return.
She paused, choosing her words. "I don't want you to give up. This is your case. Don't let him drive you away from it no matter what."
He let himself be mollified, against his better judgment. "He doesn't like me or trust me."
"Wrong."
"He has a funny way of showing it."
"Yes."
Her unwillingness to disentangle wore him down until he relaxed into her again. "So you only want me for my skills."
"Mad skillz," she agreed.
There were worse things to be wanted for.
"Wait, don't you hate me?"
"I got over that."
"You're a little volatile."
"The prerogative of a woman, Tony." With a sigh, she let go and ran her hands down his arms, ending up holding his fingertips.
She looked at him with such intensity he expected a secret of the universe to fall from her lips.
"Tony."
"Yeah?"
"Go catch bad guys."
The slow grin that crept across his face was real, and infectious. "Yes, ma'am."
She let him loose and he turned to leave.
Hesitating, he figured his last impulse upon leaving her lab hadn't ended up so badly, so he might as well give into this one too.
Turning back, he silently sprinted across the space that separated them, then tickled her sides.
Shrieking, she turned and chased him out of the lab.