A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for awhile . . . real life + wanting to know exactly where this story was going kept me and the muses tied up . . . but I'm back on track now! Enjoy the chapter: lots of the team in here + plus original characters by me. I've also included a 'flashback' scene that takes place during the episode "Skeletons". I felt very robbed in that episode when we didn't get a McAbby moment. I mean, McGee was the one who instinctively knew something was wrong with Abby - and the fans never got to see a scene with them? *grumble* Well, I fix that in this chapter ;)
"Looking out like a little child – holding tight when it all gets wild." –Luna Halo
Grayed out scene: Hospital waiting room with Sarah, Ducky and Abby asleep with her head on the ME's shoulder.
Tony let Ziva drive to McGee's apartment, which cut their drive time in half. He kept one eye on his partner, noticing how calm she appeared on the outside, and with his other eye he watched for flashing lights.
"You know, Ziva," he said as he slammed his car door. "One day your luck is going to run out and you're going to get pulled over for speeding."
Ziva shook her head as she rounded the car and came to stand beside him on the sidewalk. "My luck will never run out, Tony. I am an American citizen now."
He snorted. "And that's going to get you out of a ticket - how?"
She trailed her fingertips lightly down his chest, stopping just above his waist. "I have ways of getting out of a ticket."
He grinned. "Oh really, Miss David?"
She smiled back, knowing perfectly well that he was stalling for time. "We need to go inside, Tony."
He dragged a hand through his hair. "It's going to be really – strange to process McGeek's apartment. I mean, he's the victim this time. I can't really wrap my head around it, you know?"
Now that they were in public, Ziva couldn't comfort him the way she wanted to, so she settled for squeezing his hand. "I know. But the sooner we process his place, the sooner we find who did this and make them pay."
He squeezed her hand, hard, before reluctantly letting go. "Let's get this over with then, huh?" he said, flashing a bright smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Ziva took a deep breath and followed her partner into McGee's building. Since she was lugging the equipment chests, she was the one breathing a sigh of relief that Tim lived on the first floor. She heard Tony's short laugh as they rounded the final corner of the hallway.
"Well, it doesn't look like we need to worry about securing the apartment, Ziva," he said over his shoulder.
Ziva peeked around Tony and smiled at the sight that met her eyes. McGee's front door frame had duct tape criss-crossed over it with the words: 'Police Line: Do Not Cross' written in bold black letters.
"Hey, Tony!" Michael cried, as he got up from his post in front of the door, and launched himself at the Senior Field Agent.
"Hey, Sport. Are you the one that secured McGee's apartment?" Tony asked, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.
"Yeah, Miss Abby said not to let anyone in until you guys got here. We were together when we found McGee," Michael finished softly.
Tony and Ziva traded silent looks. Gibbs had not shared this information. Tony sighed, knowing that Michael would have to be questioned and most likely fingerprinted.
"Michael, why don't you head back to your apartment? Ziva and I have to take pictures, collect evidence-"
"I know, process the scene. Can't I stay and help?" Michael begged.
"Sorry, sport. Agents only, I'm afraid. But I'll be over to talk to you when I'm through to get your statement and fingerprints, ok?"
"Cool! I mean, that I get to give a statement, not that McGee-" Michael swallowed.
"Hey, I know what you meant," Tony reassured him.
"Do you know how he is?"
Tony glanced at Ziva again before replying. "He should be in surgery by now."
"That's good, right? Maybe I can get my mom to take me over to see him later."
"He'll probably be out for awhile."
Michael's face fell.
Ziva elbowed Tony in the side. "But I'm sure Miss Abby would love to see you."
Michael nodded. "Ok – I'll ask my mom. Talk to you later, Tony."
Ziva stopped him. "Michael, where's Jethro?"
"Oh, he's in my apartment. I didn't know if you wanted him in the apartment or not. Why?"
"He might have gotten something on him when McGee got shot." Ziva explained. "Maybe he bit the person or-"
Michael shook his head. "I don't think so but I can bring him back to you if you want. The only blood Miss Abby and I saw on Jethro was McGee's."
Gibbs was glad that Abby was managing to catch a short nap. The girl had looked completely drained when she had come back from making her phone call and she hadn't needed to say anything – one look and the men had known she had gotten through to McGee's sister. Abby collapsed in her chair and leaned against Ducky's shoulder, the tears running down her face. Ducky gave her his handkerchief and put his arm around her. She settled in and when Gibbs looked over a few minutes later, Abby was fast asleep. Ducky put a finger to his lips before he leaned back and closed his own eyes.
Gibbs had just sent Palmer to get some food from the cafeteria and bring it back when he saw Sarah enter the waiting room. He moved swiftly, catching the young woman's elbow and steering her back outside.
"Gibbs! What happened? Where's Abby?" Sarah demanded breathlessly, her face tear-streaked, her hands shaking.
"I'm still a little vague on the details myself, Sarah. All I know is Abby went to McGee's and found him."
"She was picking him up for brunch – it's his birthday. Who shot him?" Sarah shrieked.
Gibbs gave her elbow a little shake. "I don't have any answers yet, but we're working on it. Tony and Ziva are processing McGee's apartment and Abby will be in her lab the minute they have something for her."
"Where is Abby?"
"She's inside. She fell asleep a few minutes ago." At Sarah's surprised look, Gibbs explained. "Sarah, Abby is physically and emotionally exhausted. She performed CPR on McGee until the paramedics arrived and has been pacing nonstop until half an hour ago."
Sarah's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry – I just – he's all I have! I can't – he can't-"
The waiting room door behind them swung open. "Sarah."
"Abby!" Sarah tore free from Gibbs' grasp and flung her arms around Abby's neck, muffling her cries in the scientist's tattoo.
Abby lifted her red rimmed eyes to Gibbs. "Any word from Tony or Ziva?"
He shook his head. "Not yet."
Palmer came around the corner, his arms loaded with food stuffs. "Gibbs, I got the best that they had to offer – I hope-" he broke off when his eyes fell Abby and the crying girl. "I – um-"
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Get in here, Palmer. We'll set up the food and the women will join us when they're ready."
It didn't take Tony and Ziva long to process the scene because there wasn't much there. They photographed Jethro's bloody paw prints, and where Tim had fallen when he was shot. Ziva noticed that one trail of Jethro's paw prints led to the couch.
She picked up a package and held it out to Tony. "You think this is important?"
"Why?" Tony asked, looking up from his sketchpad.
"Because of these." She pointed at the paw prints.
"He's not Lassie, Ziva!"
"What is a Lassie?"
Tony sighed. "Lassie is a dog that led his master to people in trouble – it was a TV show, Ziva! We really need to work on your TV classics."
"Maybe Jethro is trying to tell is this is an important clue."
"That 'The Postman always rings twice'?" Tony laughed.
Ziva looked at him in confusion.
He sighed. "We have got to further educate you in films."
"Ah, another movie reference, yes?"
He nodded.
She shook out an evidence bag and placed the package inside. "Well, we have not found much so I am going to bag it, all right?"
Tony shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, sweetheart."
She narrowed her eyes, studying the package closely. "I do not think this package would float, Tony."
He snapped his sketchpad shut. "It's an expression, Ziva."
"I know that. I do not think it would float because I think it is filled with sand." Ziva's eyes widened as she held the bag out to him. The package had a tear in one corner where Jethro had gnawed on it and was now slowly leaking into the plastic bag – something that looked like sand.
Tony crossed the room to her side to get a better look. His eyes met hers in a genuine smile. "Well, Agent David, perhaps Jethro was trying to play Lassie after all."
While Tony was getting Michael's statement, Ziva was talking to McGee's upstairs neighbors. Many of them had not been home at the time Tim had been shot but Michael had given her the names of two tenants who had called and complained about Jethro's barking.
Taking a deep breath, Ziva knocked on the door of 2B.
"Just a minute, I'm coming," a female voice said from the other side of the door and Ziva listened to some slight scuffling sounds before a slim pretty redheaded woman opened the door.
Pity, Gibbs is not here, Ziva thought to herself. "Hello, my name is Ziva David. I'm a Special Agent with NCIS-"
"Oh yes – you work with Timothy." The young woman bit her lip. "My name is Zoey – is there something I can help you with? Is Timothy going to be all right?"
Ziva sighed. "Tim is in surgery. I have a few questions about this morning."
"Please come in. I'll do anything I can to help."
Fifteen minutes later Ziva was leaving Zoey's apartment with not much more information than when she entered. Zoey had called to complain about Jethro's barking because it had woken her baby up after Zoey had walked the floor with her all night long. Zoey had no idea what time Jethro had started barking and it seemed like he had "gone on forever" before he finally stopped.
Ziva sighed as she knocked on the door of 2E and waited. After a few minutes, she knocked again, louder this time.
"Keep your girdle on, I'm coming! I'm coming!"
The door was yanked open and there in the doorway stood a short, wrinkled old man hooked up to a portable oxygen tank. He looked her up and down before grinning and saying, "You look a little long in the tooth to be selling Girl Scout cookies, girlie."
Ziva cocked her head. "Why do I need long teeth to sell cookies?"
The man broke into a fit of laughter that ended in a wheeze that left him bent over double. "Land sakes, girlie! You trying to kill me? Ethel, get out here! We got us a comedian on our doorstep!"
A tall pinched, wrinkled woman appeared at his side and looked Ziva up and down. She grunted. "Looks like a hussy to me, Frank."
"Now, Ethel-"
"Excuse me- but I am neither a comedian nor a hissy."
"Hussy," Frank and Ethel corrected in unison.
Ziva waved her hand in dismissal, and pulled out her ID. "My name is Ziva David, and I am an NCIS agent. I work with Timothy McGee."
Ethel placed her hands on her hips. "I thought he was a novelist."
"That is his second job."
"That explains why we can hear his typewriter going at all hours of the night," Ethel snapped. "And that dog of his is a nuisance as well."
"Now, Ethel. Jethro is a well-behaved dog. He was only barking today because he was trying to get someone's attention because Timothy had been shot."
Ethel sniffed at her husband and remained quiet.
"I just have a few questions," Ziva said. "Now, you were both at home this morning?"
Ethel looked at her in consternation. "Of course not, young lady! We were at church, where all good God fearing people should be." She paused and raised her eyebrows at Ziva, her eyes falling to the Star of David around Ziva's neck in disapproval.
"Go on," Ziva urged. "What time did you arrive home?"
"We went to the early service as usual so Frank and I were back home by eleven. Frank tires easily these days and he was resting when that dog began barking and raising a fuss! Well, I called right down to Mrs. Kelly and complained but only Michael was at home. I didn't have much hope that the boy would be able to do something about it-"
"But Jethro didn't bark for long, did he, honeybunch?"
"No, I guess not."
Ziva managed to get another word in. "I do not suppose you happen to know when Jethro started barking."
Ethel sniffed again in annoyance. "Of course I do, young woman! I was just slipping our dinner into the oven to heat up when that beast began to howl. It was 12:35pm sharp."
Well, at least now I can give Gibbs an approximate time of the shooting.
Ziva nodded and marked the time down in her notebook. "Thank you. That is all the questions I have for now but I may be back later."
Ethel sniffed again. "Frank and I are always home, except for Tuesday evenings. That's his poker night and I go out to play bridge with the girls. I won't have our daily lives interrupted for a few simple questions." She turned and walked back into the apartment.
Ziva smiled. "I'll make a note of that." She turned to leave but stopped when Frank placed a wrinkled hand on her forearm. "Was there something else?"
Frank shook his head. "I just wanted to say – you'll let me know about Timothy, girlie? He really is a nice young man." Frank looked over his shoulder to make sure his wife was out of earshot before he whispered, "I don't always go to my poker game, you know. Sometimes, I pop down to visit Timothy and Jethro. We watch the History channel and drink root beer floats."
Ziva smiled and opened her mouth to answer when Ethel's voice came from inside the apartment.
"Frank! Are still out there talking to that Secret Agent girl? That better be all you're doing!"
Ziva bit back a giggle as Frank jumped at the sound of his wife's voice. "I'm just asking her to let us know how Timothy is doing!" he yelled back. He turned his pleading eyes up to Ziva again.
"I will," Ziva vowed. "Maybe I will drop by on a Tuesday night?"
Frank's laughter ended in another wheeze. "Oh girlie, if only I was forty years younger!"
"Frank!" Ethel yelled.
Abby picked at the plate of food Gibbs shoved in front of her. She hadn't eaten anything since the muffin and juice she had grabbed on her way out the door to Mass. She had been planning to take Tim to 'their' place for brunch. The food was amazing and she had been looking forward to the look on his face when he realized where they were going. They hadn't been back to the Diner in years. Not since Tim had taken her there to cheer her up after Marty had broken her heart. . . .
"Well, good night, my babies. I know that I haven't been in the best of moods the past couple of days and I have been taking it out on you. But tomorrow a new days dawns and I promise- " she broke off as she heard a sound behind her and whirled to see McGee standing in the doorway of her lab.
She placed her hands on her hips. "Are you lurking without a license again, McGee?"
He shook his head. "No, I was just waiting until you finished tucking in your babies for the night. I didn't want to interrupt you."
She lowered her hands to her sides. "Aw, that's sweet. I was wondering why I hadn't seen you today – everyone else has been coming down to check on me: Tony, Ziva, Gibbs – but not you."
He sighed as he crossed the floor to stand in front of her. "I have been worried about you, Abs. Ever since yesterday when you came upstairs screaming about needing a candy bar and how the one you got from the machine had nougat in it."
"What's so strange about that? You know I HATE nougat, Tim." She shrugged and tried to step around him but he sidestepped with her, blocking her escape.
"Yes, I do. But don't you think you overreacted just a little bit, Abby? And later you got mad at Tony for talking behind your back when you know all we were doing was discussing our concern for you."
Abby crossed her arms over her chest. "You know I don't like it when people talk about other people behind their backs."
"Abby-" McGee said softly. "We were worried about you, that's all. And then Ziva mentioned that you were obsessing over your shoes, and were nearly to the point of tears."
She dropped her eyes from his as he stepped into her space, placing his hands on her elbows.
"Abby Scuito doesn't cry over shoes," she mumbled into her chest.
He chuckled. "I know – so what's wrong, Abs? Tell me."
Abby risked a glance upwards and realized that with her boots on she was nearly as tall as McGee – and he was tall! Was there something wrong with her height? Her tattoos? The fact that she wore gunpowder perfume and slept with a farting hippo? Was there something wrong with her? Was that why Marty had given her such a weak excuse for ending their relationship?
"I'm too tall," she whispered.
"You're what?" McGee asked in astonishment, ducking his head to catch the faint words.
"Oh, McGee," she wailed as she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. "I'm too tall."
Tim's arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her back. "Says who?"
She stiffened in his arms as she could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. Even though their relationship had ended over two years ago, she knew he still got jealous and was very overprotective where she was concerned. She pulled out of his grasp and couldn't help but feel a slight sense of loss when he let her go.
"Nobody."
He raised his eyebrows. "Marty?"
Her mouth dropped open. "How did you know?"
He smirked. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, Abs. None of us would say that to you and he's the only one you're seeing right now, right?"
"I was – he ended it a couple of days ago. He said he only likes 'short women'. What does that mean, McGee? That I'm some kind of giant freak?"
He watched in amusement as she began to pace nervously in front of him. "I think it means exactly what he said it means."
She stopped mid-step, looking at him in confusion.
"Abs, I don't want to offend him or you but am I right in thinking that Marty's a midget?"
She rolled her eyes. "The PC term is 'little person', McGee, and yes, he is. What does that have to do with anything? That never influenced how I saw him."
He sighed. "But it did for him. He obviously cared a lot for you Abs – and he wanted to let you know before either of you got more involved that-" he broke off.
Abby moved back towards him. "That what?"
"That he only plans to settle down with someone who is also a 'little person'." He watched as Abby's eyes widened. "So Marty told you that you were 'too tall' because he didn't know how else to describe it."
"But –but, that's ridiculous!" she sputtered. "I don't want to settle down! I was just having fun dating and getting to know him! I wasn't looking for a long term thing – you know that, McGee."
McGee flinched. "I know, Abs." He cleared his throat. "Hey, maybe I'm wrong-"
She shook her head, her ponytails flying. "I don't think so. I mean, from Marty's point of view, it makes sense."
She collapsed into her computer chair and stared off into space for several moments, absorbing what McGee had told her. If it was true, and Tim's logic did make sense, then it wasn't her, it was Marty who had the issues. Knowing this however, did not make the pain of losing his companionship go away – her heart still ached.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a Twix bar appeared on the desk in front of her.
McGee smiled down at her and shrugged. "I thought this might help." He tapped the candy bar. "No nougat."
She laughed as she stood and pecked his cheek. "You always know how to cheer a girl up, McGee."
"Really? 'Cause I thought I might have made things worse."
She shook her head as she un-wrapped the candy bar and popped the end in her mouth, groaning as the flavors hit her tongue.
"Well then, how about I continue to cheer you up and take you to dinner – unless you've already got plans?"
She rolled her eyes. "Not anymore."
"Good – what are you in the mood for?"
"I'm not picky. Just please don't take me anywhere that will remind me of Marty."
McGee's green eyes twinkled. "That shouldn't be a problem. How about we go to our place?"
Her own eyes sparkled back as she began to bounce on her toes. "The Diner? We haven't been there in forever! Just wait a minute while I get my things, ok?"
His laughter followed her as she flew around the room, making sure her babies were powered down for the night and she grabbed her empty lunch pail from the fridge. She threw her coat around her shoulders and grabbed his hand.
"Can we go really fast and you can flash your badge if we get pulled over for speeding?"
"Abby!"
"What? McGee, I'm hungry!"
He picked up the forgotten candy bar from her desk and waved it in her face. "That's what this is for – eat this on the way."
"ABBY!"
Gibbs' voice penetrated the fog of her memory and Abby jumped, her hands barely closing around her plate in time to prevent the contents from spilling onto the floor. She turned towards him.
"What?"
"Are you ok? You've been staring into space for several minutes." Gibbs' blue eyes stared at her in concern.
"I'm ok – I was just thinking about Tim."
Ducky leaned over and squeezed her hand. "You were smiling – a happy memory?"
Abby nodded. "I was remembering when Tim came down to my lab and cheered me up after Marty broke up with me for being too tall."
Sarah snorted. "A guy broke up with you for being too tall? I haven't heard that one before."
"I hadn't either – but it's not like it sounds, Sarah. I couldn't understand it until Tim explained it to me." Abby smiled softly.
Sarah watched Abby's face as she spoke about her brother and sighed. Right, Tim. She just sees you as a friend. Both of you are living in a town called Denial-ville!
Gibbs spoke up again. "Abs, Tony called. He and Ziver will be here in ten minutes. I need you to give them your statement and then go back to NCIS and start processing the evidence from McGee's apartment."
Abby shook her head. "I can't leave, Gibbs. Not until Tim's out of surgery."
"Abby-" Gibbs started.
"Please! I need to know-"
"Jethro, she'll need the bullet for forensics," Ducky added and Abby nodded.
"Duck, whose side are you on?" Gibbs demanded as he grabbed his coffee cup and went for a refill.
"Thank you," Abby breathed softly as she collapsed back onto Ducky's shoulder.
"Try and get a little more rest, my dear. You've got a long night ahead of you," Ducky whispered. "I promise to wake you when Dr. Hart comes."
"Sarah?" Abby murmured.
"I'm okay, Abby. I'll do what I always do, study."
"Hm, yes. Tim told me you're the only suspect that-" Abby's voice trailed off.
"Abby?" Sarah asked, looking up from her book.
"Shh, lass. She's fallen asleep again." Ducky whispered.
Sarah set her book aside, rubbing her tired eyes. "So, Ducky, Tim tells me you're the storyteller of the group. Does this remind you of anything?"
Ducky pursed his lips and then smiled ruefully. "Actually, yes. This reminds me of the time I was in a French hospital waiting for word about a young NIS agent by the name of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. . . ."
Will Tim come through his surgery? Will Abby find something to ID his killer? And who shot Tim? Stay tuned - Reviews are LOVE!