AN: Two chapters in one day? Yes, I know, I'm crazy. But a little bit ago, Brian Dietzen tweets: "Beautiful day today! Time to get in a pool and enjoy the sun that'll burn me in under 20 minutes! Seriously... under 20 minutes. I am PALE!" I ROFLed and wondered if he'd read this chapter somehow. Brian, this is for you, Sean, Pauley and the rest of us pale folks. :)

Chapter 4

Between picking up Jethro, visiting Sean at Bethesda, and doing all the chores that needed to be done after two weeks away, Sunday passed in a blur. Monday morning, Tony drove them into work.

"When I called to let Allison know we were back and needed her services again, I asked her to take Jethro for a second walk this evening so we don't have to rush home from Bethesda," Tony said. "Now we just have to hope we don't catch a hot case today."

Tim nodded. "At least until after we wade through our e-mail."

"Just do what Gibbs does — ignore it."

Tim just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I could get away with that. Everybody uses e-mail to reach me. Only the clueless e-mail Gibbs."

"Well, true. Speaking of Gibbs, we should get him some coffee for picking us up and keeping Jethro."

They decided to pick up a cup of tea for Ziva as well, so both men had their hands full when the walked into the bullpen. A few agents were clustered around the TV behind Tony's desk watching the weather forecasters predicting the biggest storm in 30 years, but they scattered when Tony put his coffee down and slid his backpack to the floor. Gibbs was nowhere to be found, but Ziva was sitting at her desk.

"You are back," she said. "Tony, did you not let McGee on the beach? He looks like a goat."

"Ghost, Ziva," Tim said, smiling, as he put the cup of tea on her desk. "I got plenty of beach time, but Tony made me wear so much sunscreen that I still smell like coconut."

"Would you rather have a sunburn, McPasty?" Tony retorted as he set Gibbs' coffee on the man's desk. "Abby's the only person I know with paler skin than you, and I swear she's part vampire."

"Only part?" Tim said. He booted up his computer and started cleaning out his e-mail. "So did we miss any good cases?"

"I have been working on this cold case," Ziva said. "I have not pulled all the strings together yet, but I think it is may be hotter than we thought."

"Threads, Zee," Tony said. "Pulling strings is something completely different."

"And you wonder why I have trouble with English?" she said. "No matter what I am pulling, I believe I have found a connection between this case and two others."

"Good work, David," Gibbs said as he walked into the bullpen. "DiNozzo, with David. McGee, Abby's been stumped by an encryption since Wednesday. Get down to the lab and help her."

"On it, Boss."

Tim grabbed a Caf-Pow on his way down to the lab. When he walked in, Abby was at her lab table bent over a laptop.

"Gibbs said you need a hand, Abbs," he said as he put the Caf-Pow down.

"Timmy, you're back!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Did you have a good trip? You're almost blonde! That much sun isn't good for you, McGee."

"Abbs, do I look like I got anything on my skin? Tony made sure I was smothered in sunscreen," he said, extricating himself. "He's the one with the tan. Ziva looks like you next to him. So what's this encryption?"

"Something Cassie's team over at the Pentagon sent me." Abby moved aside so he could sit in front of the laptop and filled him in on what she had already tried. "Vance said if I didn't get this cracked today, he was going to send it down to the sub-basement, and they don't know anything about crime scenes and crime evidence."

"I know, Abbs, I used to work down there, remember?" Tim talked even as he started trying to break the encryption. "They're good with computers, but they could all benefit from a trip to FLETC."

"So did you get back OK?" she asked. "When Bossman called and said he would pick you guys up, he sounded even more cryptic than normal. You didn't get stuck someplace, did you?"

"No, we got in fine. We didn't know Gibbs was picking us up until we saw him at the airport." He sighed. "My dad's at Bethesda with pneumonia, and Gibbs volunteered to pick us up and tell us about it. I guess Mom called him to figure out if she should call us while we were on vacation or not, and they decided not."

"Oh, no, McGee! That's not good. Your dad's going to be OK, right? Why didn't Sarah mention this? When did he go in? Is Brad taking good care of him?" She got up and started pacing.

"Abby, it's OK. He went in Friday. Brad said he should be there through the end of the week, but I think it's mostly to keep an eye on him."

"All week?" Abby said. "But that means he'll be stuck there into next week. They're talking about three or four feet of snow on Friday, maybe even as early as Thursday night. Do you know how much snow that is?"

Tim stifled a laugh. "My dad was stationed in Boston during the Blizzard of '78, when I was just a few months old, and I've seen the pictures. My mom couldn't even take me outside because the snow was almost as high as the roof of the car."

"Well, OK, so you know, but I grew up in the South. That's more snow than I've seen in my entire life. I couldn't believe we got as much as we did in December, and that was only two feet. Do you know how tall four feet is? That's past my waist. That's even past your waist."

Tim snorted and put a finger to Abby's lips. "Relax, Abs," he said. "It'll be fine. And if my dad has to get stuck somewhere during the blizzard better at Bethesda than at home, especially since he hasn't learned to tell us when he's not feeling well."

"What do you mean, Timmy?"

"He started feeling sick a week or so before he finally told Brad about it, so I told him I was going to have Gibbs and Ducky give Mom lessons on doctor-related nagging." McGee was typing away the entire time he talked. "Got one level unlocked. Looks like I've got another level still to crack."

"McGee, you rock!" Abby hugged him.

"Thanks, Abbs, but don't say that until I crack this second level. This took some serious skills. Whose laptop is it?"

"One of the members of the Pentagon's encryption unit. He killed himself a week ago — Ducky confirmed that right away — and Cassie and her team have been trying to figure out why, make sure he wasn't being blackmailed. They haven't found anything, but since his laptop was locked up tighter than Leavenworth, there's a lot they haven't been able to check." As Major Mass Spec started beeping, she walked over to check the results. "You should be glad you were on vacation. Vance has been making noises about getting you to do this since I couldn't crack it after the first day."

"He was NOT going to call while we were on vacation," Tim said. "Was he?"

"I think he would have if Gibbs hadn't threatened to sic Ziva on him." Abby bounced, pigtails flying. "I thought we might finally have a winner in the pool."

"Gibbs setting our ninja after Vance doesn't count as him taking a swing at Vance," Tim said. "I don't know who had last week in the pool, but they won't win that easily."

"Jimmy had last week," Abby said. "I think Balboa has this week."

"You realize if either of them find out you're running that pool, you're dead," Tim said. "There, got it!"

"Sweet!" Abby pushed him aside. "Let's see what Capt. Tattersall is hiding."

While she sorted through the hard drive, Tim walked over to check out the fingerprints running on the plasma. "What are these for?" he asked.

"Ziva's cold case," Abby said. "She wanted to see if they matched any other open cases."

"No luck ye-" He was interrupted when Abby let out a yell and punched in a number on her phone.

"Cassie, it's Abby. I've got it."

As she filled the Pentagon team leader in on the details of Tattersall's illegal gambling, Tim just listened to her expressive voice.

Ten minutes later, that same voice was driving him nuts, as Abby was telling him about all the alternative therapies she had researched while they were gone. He at least gave her credit for knowing her audience — each therapy had scientific studies to back it up, many published by the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine at NIH, the same department funding Brad's study. But by the third treatment, he could feel his brain starting to fry.

"Abby, stop," he said. "I appreciate this, but you really need to tell Tony this."

"But I'm too busy to get out of the lab, and Tony can't come down," she said. "So I have to tell you. Here, take these." She dumped a stack of papers in his arms.

Tim opened his mouth to argue, then remembered who he was talking to. "I'll show him. I can't promise he'll read them — this is Tony we're talking about, and scientific studies are not his thing — but I'll give them to him."

A few minutes later, he walked into the squad room and dumped a foot-high stack of papers on Tony's desk, where they landed with a thump.

"What the-?"

"From Abby. This is what happens when we're not around for two weeks to listen to her research. Correction. This is what happens when I'm not around to listen and pass them on to you." Tim smirked. "Any chance you can ask Brad to lift his ban on you going into the lab?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "So I can be subjected to this? You can't complain about it one minute, then ask me to go down there voluntarily."

"Sure I can."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

While Tim was downstairs working with Abby, Gibbs walked into the bullpen just as Tony finished reading through Ziva's notes on the cold case. "DiNozzo."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Go see Ducky. He wants to check you out. Told him Brad looked at you Saturday night, but he wants to see for himself."

"On it, Boss." He headed to Autopsy, where he found Ducky and Palmer relaxing with a cup of tea.

"Isn't tea time in the afternoon?" he asked, hoisting himself onto the nearest table.

"Merely a matter of fortification before we tackle this mountain of requisition forms," Ducky said. "I had hoped we might get to them while you boys were gone and Jethro and Ziva were on cold cases, but Cassie and Balboa kept us rather busy." He poured a third cup and handed it to the agent.

"You know, Brad checked me out Saturday, and he said I could wait until Thursday to come in rather than today as we'd originally planned."

"On the weekend?" Palmer looked up. "You're not-"

"Relax, Jimmy," Tony said. "I'm fine. Tim's dad is at Bethesda with pneumonia, and we stopped by to see him. Brad made sure he was around since it was after visiting hours, just to make sure we could get in. Good thing, too. The nurse didn't want to let us in. Actually, she didn't let me-"

"Anthony?"

"Look, can you forget I just said that?" he asked, mentally kicking himself.

"Anthony." Ducky just looked at him.

Tony cursed. "It's not... Tim doesn't know. Brad hauled me off to his office on the pretense of checking me out. It's only because I guessed that he even admitted the nurse wasn't going to let me in because I'm not family — at least not in the eyes of the law and the DoD. Tim has enough on his mind dealing with his dad being sick, and I didn't want to add another thing. He's doing enough McWorrying for both of us right now. Besides, Brad put me on the visitor's list, so it wasn't a problem when we went by yesterday during normal visiting hours." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Tim's been one of my medical proxies since I got sick, he and Gibbs, so it's not like he'd have a problem if I were in Sean's position."

"Oh, Anthony," Ducky said. "It sounds like your time since returning from vacation has been far from relaxing."

Tony just hopped down and dragged a chair away from the desk in the corner, joining the two men around the makeshift tea table.

"On to happier topics," Ducky said. "So, tell us about your adventures in the Caribbean. You certainly look as though you spent plenty of time on the beach. Timothy has not come back to us looking like a lobster, I hope?"

"Not a chance," Tony said. "We've been back for two days, and he's complaining he still smells like sunscreen. He's as pasty as Jimmy and Abby."

"Hey!" Palmer said. "Can we help it if we're fair-skinned? It's February, and we've been buried in snow since before Christmas."

"And if it were the middle of summer, you're the only one who might have even a hint of color," Tony retorted. "Abby won't go in the sun — I really think she is part vampire — and Tim can't. He only has two colors — fish-belly white or lobster red."

"Abby's not part vampire," Palmer insisted. "She's just... Abby."

Tony looked at the assistant medical examiner, who was a little pink around the edges. "Another man falls into her web?"

"No, I- I mean- I don't-" Palmer stammered as Ducky's lips twitched, as if holding back a smile.

Tony decided to let his friend off the hook. "It's OK, Palmer. You wouldn't be the first. I think I'm the only one here who hasn't fallen under her spell at some point." He frowned for a second. "I wonder how that happened?"

"Because you'd rather have Tim?" Palmer said.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should move on to my examination of Anthony," Ducky said. "While I know Jethro has turned a blind eye to some violations of Rule 12, he would not appreciate wholesale discussion of its dissolution."

"OK, Ducky. Go ahead, check me out. Just please warm up the stethoscope first," Tony said as he stripped his shirt off and moved back to one of the empty autopsy tables. "I know your normal patients don't notice, but it's cold."

"Yes, yes, my dear boy," Ducky said, as he held the metal disc in his hands to warm it. The medical examiner proceeded to check many of the same things Brad had Saturday. Tony tried not to fidget, reminding himself that this was better than working on Ziva's cold case. Paperwork was the only thing Tony hated more than working cold cases. He loved finally catching the dirtbags who thought they had gotten away with it, but that happened too rarely. Between those successes, each cold case only served to remind him that for every bad guy they caught, another one had gone free. Not on their team — Gibbs had the highest close rate in the agency, and Tony's close rate while he had been team lead during Gibbs' "retirement" was only slightly lower. But not every team was as good. What could you expect? There was only one Gibbs, and while the team members he trained were the best — Tony knew any one of them could successfully lead their own team — only a few still worked for the agency. Some, like Langer, were dead. Others had been recruited away by higher-profile agencies such as the FBI. A few, like Burley, were still in NCIS, still working cases the way Gibbs taught. Well, no, taught was a misnomer. Gibbs didn't teach. You learned, or you got booted.

"Anthony." Ducky's voice was unusually sharp.

"Huh?" Tony realized he was still sitting on the autopsy table.

"I've been calling you for a full minute," Ducky said. "Where on earth did you disappear to?"

"Sorry, Ducky. My mind must still be on vacation." Tony pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it. "I was thinking about hating cold cases and then I think I got on the Abby train, because I ended up someplace completely different."

"Tim told me one time not to try and understand because her mind works like a pachinko machine," Jimmy said. "She would have threatened to kill him-"

"Right, and leave no forensic evidence," Tony said. "I'd say she needs a new threat, except that one's so darn effective none of us have crossed her yet when she's pulled it out. So why didn't she?"

"We were here, and she was in the lab. Tim and Gibbs couldn't leave because they were..." His voice trailed off and he frowned.

"They were what?" Tony tried to remember a time when Tim and Gibbs were... Oh. "That's when I was on my way to Bethesda with the plague, right?"

Jimmy just nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Tony shrugged. "It happened. The bad memories are the ones where I can't breathe. But there are some good ones, too. Kate lied and said she had the plague so she could stay with me. I think it was the first time we actually appreciated each other, really appreciated each other. And since Ari struck two weeks later, it was just in time. Gibbs told me I wouldn't die, and I believed him when he said it. I met Brad, and we've gotten to be good friends except for on football Saturdays when we hate each other." He smiled. "Don't get me wrong — I still think Hannah Lowell should rot in hell for what she did, and I'm glad Gibbs terrorized that doctor. Well, maybe not glad. He was just doing his job. Still."

Before either Palmer or Ducky could reply, Tony's cell rang. He answered, listened for a second, and flipped it closed. "Gotta go — Gibbs needs me back upstairs."