Chapter 2

Six months later...

Teresa stared at the pair of legs sticking out from under her desk with distaste. She didn't want him there, no matter how good he was.

"Teresa, are you seeing anything up there?"

She looked at her monitor.

"It's just flickering. I thought you said you knew how to fix this!"

There was a sigh of exasperation.

"Look, I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart because you didn't want to wait for the people who are supposed to do this to get here. If you would rather have me stop trying, let me know. I have better things to do than hang out under your desk, breathing in your dust bunnies!"

Teresa grimaced. It was far too true.

"Well?" the legs demanded. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Just hurry it up. I have work to do today!"

"I'm working as fast as I can. Could you hand me a flashlight? I think I might see the problem."

"About time," she muttered under her breath but put the small flashlight in the questing hand.

"Morning, Teresa! What's up?" Lorenzo asked as he came into the office.

"Mr. Genius can't handle my monitor," she said grumpily.

Lorenzo laughed. The owner of the legs sticking out from under the desk did not.

"I heard that. Okay. Here it is. Your cord has a short in it. It almost looks like it's been spliced. Go to the supply closet and get me a new one. I'll get you all hooked up while I'm down here."

Teresa rolled her eyes at the commanding tone...and didn't move or respond.

"Look, Teresa, you can do this if you want to. Got it?"

"I'll get it," she said and looked at Lorenzo, mouthing bossy at him. He laughed silently.

"Good. I think you should complain to maintenance. There's so much dust back here that I don't think they've touched your area with a vacuum for weeks."

Teresa said nothing to the calm statement. Instead, she headed back to the supply closet, resenting the fact that she was getting sent on the errand, that she wasn't as good as the man under her desk and that she was forced to take orders from him when he wasn't even a real employee.

She thought about shouting back and sarcastically asking what size of cord he needed. ...but she knew what the size was. She may not be fully checked out on computer repair, but she wasn't an idiot by any means.

She pulled open the supply closet door.

...and she screamed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony yawned and rested his head on his arms.

"Late night?" Ziva asked.

"Movie marathon on TCM," Tony mumbled. "Couldn't stop staring at the screen."

"Like a train wreck?"

"What?" Tony lifted his head up.

"Is that not what they say about train wrecks? You cannot look away?"

"Oh. Right."

"Well?"

"Sure. Whatever." His head dropped back to his arms.

"Good morning!" Jamie said.

"Why are you so happy?" Tony grumbled.

"I have great news! ...well, great news for me."

Ziva smiled. "What has you so...so giddy at such an early hour?"

Jamie took a deep breath and then let out in a rush. "Nate and I are going to have a baby!"

Tony sat up, wide awake. "What?"

Jamie grinned. "I'm pregnant, Tony!"

"What does that mean?"

"I hope you're not asking for the word's definition."

"No."

Jamie's smile became understanding. "It means that in a few months I'll be gone."

Ziva's smile faded. "Permanently?"

"I don't know yet. Nate and I are still discussing it...but there's a lot of time."

"Only a few months."

"Hey, you guys don't have to act like I'm dying or anything. People have babies all the time. ...well, women have babies all the time."

Tony forced a smile. "Well...congratulations!"

"Practice it a few times, Tony. Maybe tomorrow it'll sound sincere."

Then, the awkwardness was interrupted by a Gibbs fly-by.

"Practice it later. Dead Marine. Grab your gear."

"Marine where?"

"Some software company out in Arlington called Soft-Tech."

"Why was he there?"

"That's what we're supposed to find out, DiNozzo! Let's go!"

Quickly, they grabbed their gear and ran after Gibbs. As the elevator doors closed, Gibbs proved his omniscience.

"Congratulations, Davidson."

Jamie smiled. "Thanks, Gibbs."

The doors closed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Dr. Mallard! Where have you been?" Jimmy asked in relief when Ducky walked in.

"Mr. Palmer," Ducky said. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Agent Gibbs said they had a body to process and I didn't want to be the one in charge!"

Ducky chuckled. "I suppose that is understandable. Do you think you can get us there?"

"I always do eventually," Jimmy said and then went serious.

"What is it, lad?"

"The place we're going."

"What?"

"A dead Marine at Soft-Tech."

"Oh, dear. ...and they've already left?"

"Yes, Dr. Mallard."

Ducky sighed. This was not an auspicious beginning to the day.

"Oh, dear," he said once more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Ziva, Tony, photos, bag and tag. Jamie, get our witnesses separated and start talking with them. When Ducky gets here, Tony, you help Jamie."

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs nodded and headed for the tall, lean, bald man standing anxiously at the door to his office.

"Hal Johnson?"

"Yes."

"Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

"Thank goodness. I knew it was the right thing to call you guys first. I must say that I've not ever had even theft take place in this company. Murder...that's...quite a bit different, not what I expected...although Teresa does have a set of lungs. I heard her all the way out in the parking lot." He smiled slightly.

"What can you tell me?"

"He's Lance Corporal Eric Smythe," Hal said with some distaste that even his shock couldn't get rid of.

"You didn't like him?"

"He took his role here beyond what it was supposed to be. He was irritating. ...but before you ask, no, I didn't want him dead. I wanted this project over so that he'd be sent back to Quantico and out of our hair."

"What was his role?"

"Security. We're in the final stages of writing a program for Quantico. It had to be built from nothing and we all had to get clearance even though the data wasn't all that vital to national security. Still, I could see why it was necessary. If he'd been polite about it..."

"But he wasn't?"

"No. He was pushy and demanding...and seemed to forget that we're the computer experts here, not him. Kept trying to muscle his way in. Drove Tim crazy."

Gibbs blinked. It couldn't be. "Tim?"

"Yeah. I hired him just for this project. I'm sure you'll want to talk to him. In fact, he's the one who said we needed to call NCIS...wouldn't let us touch the body. Maybe you know him. He used to work for NCIS. Timothy McGee?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was waiting anxiously in his office. He knew he'd be interviewed. He assumed that he was going to be a suspect. He just hoped that...

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Jamie Davidson. I know this must have been upsetting. I just have a few questions for you to start out if that's all right."

Tim breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been afraid it would be Gibbs and company who were sent to this. He was surprised they weren't, but he was glad of it.

"Sure. I knew you would. I used to work for NCIS. I know how all this works."

"Really? What's your name?"

"Tim McGee."

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed an 'O' shape. ...which worried him somewhat. It had been a year and a half since he quit NCIS. Surely they weren't still talking about him. Not after all this time. Surely they would have forgotten about him, moved on with their lives. He hadn't, but they must have.

"I see you've heard of me."

"It would be hard not to, I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"Hey, Jamie!"

Tim knew that voice, not even a year away from it could erase it from his memory. Involuntarily, he stepped back, away from the voice and ran into the edge of his desk. He flushed and Jamie smiled and leaned out of the office.

"What, Tony?"

"You need any help?" came Tony's disembodied voice.

"Not just yet. I'll let you know. I wouldn't want to keep you from your work."

"Thanks," Tony groused.

Jamie looked at Tim.

"Thanks," Tim said softly. "I guess you have heard of me."

"Yeah. I have."

"Not recently, I hope."

Jamie gave him a strange glance. "I guess not particularly recently. Now, where are your coworkers?"

"Coworkers," Tim repeated, rolling his eyes. "That's using the term very loosely. They're all in different offices. Particularly, Teresa, Lorenzo and myself. We were the ones who were definitely in the building. I got here first, at about six-thirty. Teresa came a bit later, maybe eight. Lorenzo got here just before Teresa went back and discovered Lance Corporal Smythe at eight forty-five."

"What were you all doing?"

"I was under Teresa's desk, trying to fix her monitor. It had stopped working and she was too impatient to wait for the maintenance crew to get here. I knew how to do it and so I volunteered...not that she was at all grateful for my help. They never are here."

"Not a pleasant working environment?"

"Not really."

"Then, why do you stay?"

"I won't be for much longer. I'm only a temp here," Tim said, trying not to show any of his embarrassment. "They'll be glad to see me go and I'll be glad to go."

"Why the mutual animosity?"

"Because they have deluded themselves into thinking that I'm after their jobs, even though Hal was clear about my presence only being temporary. They're insecure and so they don't like me. It happens."

"And Lorenzo?"

"Oh, right. Lorenzo came and he and Teresa traded a few quips about me and then I figured out what was wrong with monitor and sent Teresa back to the supply closet to get a new cord. She did...and then she screamed. I hit my head on the top of the desk," Tim finished, pointing to the small lump on his forehead.

"Okay. So...where are the others?"

"You'll find them just around the corner, down the hall and to the right...but I'm fairly certain that you'll be focusing on me as the prime suspect soon enough."

Jamie had been about to leave and she stopped, startled.

"Why?"

"Means, motive and opportunity. I have them all."

"Hey, Jamie, Ducky got here really fast and..." Tony came around the corner and into the office... and Tim knew there was nowhere to hide.

Tony was shocked. He couldn't even pretend to be anything else. For his part, Tim just stood there in silence as Tony stared in surprise. There was an awkward pause.

"Tony..." Jamie began and then tried to smile. "I guess you know Tim?"

"McGee...what are you doing here?"

"I work here," Tim said. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I was just about to go and interview the other two who were in the building, Tony," Jamie said. "Tony?"

"Yeah...right, okay. I was just going to say that I wasn't quite done with the photos, even though you might hear Ducky's dulcet tones." As he spoke, Tony slowly got back his usual expression and hid any of his shock. "So...you work here?"

"Yeah. I do," Tim said, keeping any emotion out of his voice, determined to be civil but nothing more.

"For how long?"

"About six months." He decided not to mention the fact that he was only a temp to Tony. He didn't need to know that...not right now...and not from him.

"Wow."

"It was nice to meet you, Tim," Jamie said.

"Yeah," Tim said. "Likewise. You must be at my desk now."

"Yep."

Another awkward pause.

"Tim, could you come to my office, please?"

Tim sighed in relief at the escape. "Coming, Hal! Sorry. Duty calls." He walked quickly out of the little office and down the hall to the main office...only to stop in dismay at who was sitting across from Hal's desk...although he should have guessed.

"Tim, great. This is Agent Gibbs from NCIS. Do you know him?"

"Yeah. I do. He's investigating?" Tim asked, focusing his attention on his current boss rather than his former boss.

"Yes, and I'd like to ask a favor of you. I know that everyone will have to be investigated, but I need someone who knows all the ins and outs of the company as well as NCIS to function as a liaison while this is going on. Would you mind acting in that capacity?"

Tim's mouth opened to beg Hal to pick anyone else, no matter what they would say about him, to plead with him not to be forced to work with NCIS, not to have to see all these people again, not to be forced to remember the life he'd given up. ...but that wasn't what came out.

"Sure, Hal. If that's all right with NCIS."

"Works for me, McGee," Gibbs said, in a voice that might even be a bit amused and Tim felt his back stiffen as he straightened.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I've been explaining to Agent Gibbs what we do here and what we've been doing for the Marine Corps...but I think I might have been a bit too technical. You think you could do a better job?"

"Probably not," Tim said, thinking of all the times Gibbs had cut him off mid-sentence...and then quickly quashing those same memories. "...but I can try, Hal."

"Excellent. Do you have anymore questions for me, Agent Gibbs?"

"Who's your contact at Quantico?"

"I'm afraid that was Lance Corporal Smythe. Was there anyone else, Tim?"

"Lance Corporal Smythe was assigned by and reported to, uh... Lieutenant Colonel Bass, I believe, Hal...but Lance Corporal Smythe was the only one who ever checked up on us...at least to my knowledge."

"Right. Thanks. You see, Agent Gibbs, this project has really become a lot of Tim's work. I wouldn't be able to handle everything here without him."

"I can see that."

Tim gritted his teeth. Why did Gibbs have to make everything sound like a joke? ...and why, in the name of all that was holy, did he still make Tim feel angry? It had been way too long for this kind of emotion to have lasted.

You've moved past all that, Tim. Get over it!

"Tim?"

Tim blinked at Hal.

"Sorry. What?"

"I just said that you can feel free to use my office for this stuff, and anything that goes beyond the regular working hours you can log as overtime. I know you need it and it will be worth it to have someone who knows what he's doing on my side."

Tim winced but smiled at Hal's curious glance.

"Is there anything you want from me right now?" Tim asked, finally speaking directly to Gibbs.

"Not at the moment. If you could come to NCIS once we've finished up here, that would be helpful. I'd like to get the details of the work you're doing for Quantico."

No! Don't make me go back there!

"Okay." Tim looked at Hal. "If you'd excuse me for a minute, Hal," Tim said and walked out before either of them could say anything else. He hurried to the bathroom, locked himself in a stall and began shaking.

Why did they have to show up now?