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Beta reader: Mike91848 Excellent Thanks Mike
Therefore, all mistakes are mine
CINDERELLA REVISITED
BEFORE
So he told Gibbs why he was distracted and that he would get his head together. He said that it involved another ugly episode in his life when he was 17 and grieving for his recently deceased grandmother. His grandmother's estate, the stepmother and his entitled, half-brothers were also involved.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Sorry, Boss. You remember that little matter about my grandmother's estate?"
Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Those damn fools ready to settle? It's been, what twenty five years?"
"Not a clue. Got a letter from the attorney's office setting up an appointment for tonight. I guess I'll find out then."
"You want company?" Gibbs reframed from questions and demands. Tony would just close down.
"No, I got it Boss, but thanks anyway."
Gibbs eyed him closely before seeming satisfied at what he saw and headed back to his desk.
"Ziva and McGee went for sandwiches, eat something and then take some time off if you need it."
"No time needed Boss." as Tony nodded his thanks then went back to studying the case file.
They had no cases after lunch, it was still cold cases for them and then it was quitting time. Abby's last ditch effort to get them to Simmons party failed even though she threw Tony a bone by saying Simmons just forgot to invite him and he was certainly welcome to come.
She stomped off in a huff and a glare at Tim when he refused to budge and Ziva said she had forgotten a prior engagement and would not be attending either though Tony didn't know why Ziva had changed her mind.
Abby's uncharacteristic show of hostility toward him made him uneasy as though he had done something wrong but if he had, he had no idea what it was. He dismissed Abby and Simmons as inconsequential for now and concentrated on just getting through the next few hours.
Tony took a cab to the airport and caught the DC express to New York then another cab to the lawyer's office. The building had changed names. The plaque on the wall near the revolving door said DINOZZO Executive Suites. Maybe he'd get reimbursement for his travel expenses this time. Maybe Billups, et al, would cut him a check for his out of pocket expenses since according to them, he was doomed to live in the gutter.
"Tony DiNozzo, I have an appointment."
"Of course, sir, this way please."
Seated in an outer office on the top floor this time, Tony looked around at the opulent setting, the comfortable seating and the three closed doors wondering who was going to pop out this time. He checked his watch impatiently. He was on time, where were the lawyers. If this was an attempt by the lawyers to put him in his place again, he wasn't playing along. Another minute and he was outta there.
The wood paneled door to his right opened and a nondescript office assistant in an expensive suit that outshone the man himself beckoned to Tony.
"This way please, Mr DiNozzo," the assistant stood in the open door.
"Well, I'll be." said DiNozzo unimpressed as he approached the man seated behind the raised desk. Bryan Billups looked the same, just older and heavier. He had replaced his father as senior partner in the prestigious law firm. Medium height, a little portly, brown hair tinged with grey; his outstanding feature still his eyes, brown and intelligent
hidden behind black designer glasses.
Bryan stood to shake hands but aborted the gesture when Tony just looked at him. "Please have a seat." He said, pointing to the chair facing the desk.
"It's been a while Tony, what twenty five years? How've you been?"
"Fine. Just fine. Your office is bigger, looks like you're doing well. You the top dog now Bryan?"
"You could say that, yes. Dad passed away five years ago but he had been retired from the firm for a few years before that."
Not interested in the old fart or any further pleasantries, Tony stared at the lawyer with cold eyes.
"So what's going on Bryan? This isn't another DiNozzo slash Billups unethical, and might I add, highly illegal campaign to brow beat, badger or otherwise brainwash yours truly, and a minor at the time, mind you, into signing away a fortune that is rightfully his, is it? Cause I wanna tell ya, Bryan, it didn't work when I was seventeen and it's not gonna work now! How's that cat woman by the way?"
"No, Tony. This is something else, something serious."
"Well, I guess IT, as the saying goes, is all relative, Bryan. Serious to you may be laughingly funny to me. Now where's the reluctance coming from? You didn't have a problem spilling the beans the last time I saw you. Matter of fact, you couldn't wait to start rustling those papers of yours. I always thought you had a hot date waiting for you, Bryan. So, again I ask, what is going on?"
"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Tony," said Bryan as he walked around his desk to sit on the edge just as the door opened and the assistant entered with a carafe of coffee and cups and placed it on the desk. Both men ignored the interruption.
"The DiNozzo family is willing to release the injunction against the settlement of your grandmother's estate. You will be the sole beneficiary with no expectations on the family's part, now or ever, for any future share in your inheritance. This will become effective immediately when you leave this office."
"Realllly?" Tony gazed speculatively at the man more in amazed disbelief than happy relief.
Bryan turned to the tray on his desk and poured a cup of coffee offering it to Tony who declined the offer. Aware of Tony's distrustful eyes on him, Bryan took a sip of coffee then put the cup down and returned to his seat. He took his glasses off and rubbed his chin before sitting back in his chair then abruptly sitting up again.
Bryan prided himself on being unreadable, of what he was thinking or planning. He had a great reputation in court for his stoicism. Now he was feeling as uncomfortable as hell and it was more than obvious. No doubt his participation in the blitz attack perpetrated by his father and Mrs DiNozzo so many years ago had something to do with it.
"Oh, what the hell!" Frustrated and powerless to change the situation, Bryan just barreled ahead. "Sorry, Tony, there's no other way to do this.
"Would you be willing to volunteer to take a blood test and other tests as a prelude to donating a kidney or part of a kidney to a young relative who is in the mid stages of kidney failure? Every other eligible family member has been tested and none of them are a match."
Tony didn't even blink before answering.
"Nope. So, does that mean I can kiss my inheritance goodbye for another twenty five years, Bryan?" Tony said calmly as he started to rise.
"Wait, Tony, please, this is a kid we're talking about, turning seventeen in a few months. A certified genius and a child prodigy concert pianist. I can give you the statistics regarding any danger to you. Or all the pertinent information if you need to take some time to think about it?"
"No. Not interested. And I'll even spare you having to tell me that the DiNozzo family will be reneging on the issue of my grandmother's estate. Next time you contact me, do it through my lawyers, you have their number. Good day."
Tony turned toward the door, then turned back quickly and with one sweep knocked the tray over, spilling hot coffee, cream and sugar all over the pristine desk and into Bryan's lap. Some of the expensive China crockery ended up smashed to pieces on the floor. Tony left without a backward glance slamming the office door on his way out.
Bryan Billups sat without moving as the liquid saturated his pants and ran down onto the floor. He was appalled at what just happened because unlike his father, he was an ethical man with a conscience. The only reason he had agreed to this fiasco was because he knew the family through his father's long-term association with Angela DiNozzo and the case that had been hung up in court for years.
He had even met the spoiled rotten, stuck up kid who was Anton DiNozzo's illegitimate son. Gregor DiNozzo had had the misfortune to be taken from his teenage mother and raised in the DiNozzo household, even calling his grandmother Angela, mother.
The whole thing was objectionable and, sorry, but he didn't blame Tony one bit for refusing the most ridiculous, heartless and dangerous request after years of ugliness and the intentional shunning on the part of the DiNozzo family against one of their own. He was disgusted with himself for agreeing to handle this case out of loyalty to his father, and the whole DiNozzo clan in general.
Tony left the building in a boiling rage but to an onlooker he appeared no different from any other John Doe walking the streets of New York. He took a cab to 300 Park Avenue and tipped the cab driver and the doorman of the luxury hotel exorbitantly. He was alone in the elevator ride to the thirty-first floor where he exited the box and turned left down the corridor to his suite of rooms.
Miles Myers Smyth had bought the apartment in the Waldorf Astoria in 1942 for next to nothing because he had wanted his eccentric, uncontrollable, wayward, brilliant daughter Caroline, who refused to follow the mores of the day, to always have a place to live. The two bedroom suites were full of the treasures Caroline had acquired over her many years of travel and most of Tony's furniture was picked from these items. And although Caroline would never stay there, she had many friends passing through who always had a place to stay.
But most important, the luxury apartment was still in the name of Myers Smyth and therefore under the radar of the predator Angela. His grandmother had had the title transferred to him before she died so even if the barracuda had found out about it, there was nothing she could do about it.
Tony called for room service and ordered liquor and ice. He washed his face and hands and sat down on the sofa while he waited for the bellhop. Over tipping again, Tony filled his glass with the whiskey and added a cube of ice for a chaser. After downing that first drink, he poured another and sat on the sofa again holding the cool crystal in both hands.
His mind was numb. He was in a non-physical place that was not safe for him and when he went to that dangerous place, he was supposed to call someone for help.
Gibbs would hop on a plane or warp-drive the freeway and someone would have a gun in their face ten minutes after his arrival, not good. Abby was too unpredictable right now. Ziva, no way! Dr Brad, Ducky, Jimmy, double no way! For obvious reasons.
Girlfriend, too revealing, too soon; Academy buds CC or Burnett, more violence; frat bros, too embarrassing; Danny, bad cop, alcoholic, too Dead!
McGee? He could call Tim, just to talk. Tim would listen and not ask too many questions.
Tony got up and removed his jacket. He checked his phone and saw three missed calls. He dialed Tim's number and it went to voice mail. He tried again, pick up Tim, but Tim was probably sitting in front of his typewriter, pipe in mouth, reaching for inspiration for his new novel.
Tony fixed another drink before rolling up his shirt sleeves and walking on autopilot into the bathroom, which was the size of his guest bedroom at home. The hand towels were of the best quality and the imported expensive dispenser soap would have to do.
Setting his drink, the liquor bottle and his cellphone on the counter, Tony filled the sink with scalding hot water and a pump full of the expensive soap followed by the hand towels. He wrung out the towels then got down on his hands and knees and started to mindlessly scrub the tiled floor around the toilet. This project was going to take him all night. He was just getting into the rhythm, scalding water, soaked towels, scrub, when the phone rang.
Scalding water, soaked towels, scrub. The phone rang again just as he was reaching for his drink so he picked it up.
"Hey, McGee."
"Tony, what's up?"
"Nothing much. Just doing a little cleaning."
"Yeah? So, what do you want?"
"Are you inspired, Tim?"
"What?"
"You know, are you sitting in front of your typewriter right now?"
"Noooo? Tony, you okay?"
"Well, it all depends. How's Jethro?"
"...
"Tim, you there?"
"I'm here. Tony, have you been drinking?"
Gulping down the rest of his drink, Tony could answer truthfully.
"Yeah, I have. I'm trying to finish off the bottle like Brick, waiting for that clickety-click click feeling."
"Brick? Clickety...Tony what are you talking about? Do you need me to come and get you? Where are you? I'll be right there."
"I doubt that, Tim. But anyway, Brick, the has-been football player with the sexy wife who he ignores in place of his booze, that Brick?"
"Okay, the play by Williams, right?"
"It was MADE into a movie, McOblivious, which came out in 1958!
"So anyway. Brick waits for that sound before he feels he can stop drinking, but by that time he's usually passed out in a field somewhere in the rain."
"Yeah, bummer. So is that where you are Tony, watching a movie somewhere?"
"No. Just don't want to try for that clickety-click so now I'm talking to you and I won't have to. But I just remembered that I hadn't seen Jethro around lately. Where's your dog, McGee?"
"Tony, remember, I told you that I found another home for Jethro last month because he wasn't getting enough exercise and was getting fat, remember? I asked you if you thought Abby would try to kill me and you said do it anyway or give the damn dog to her to run 43 miles a day to get him slimmed down again. So I took your advice and now Jethro is slim, but Abby is giving me the evil eye, remember?"
"Oh, yeah."
"So have you stopped drinking yet, Tony?"
"I have. Stopped cleaning too, thanks, Tim. I'm going to lay down now and grab a few winks before I fly back tomorrow. And really, McSly, don't think I don't know you've tracked me to New York, probably even the hotel, the floor and the room number I'm in, right Tim? I can hear those computer keys clacking."
"Computer keys don't clack, Tony. That's the sound you hear after you've finished off a bottle of Jack and wake up in the rain kissing the mud in a vacant field somewhere."
"It's clickety-click, McGee, not clack! You're pretty smart McGee, genius level, right?"
"...
"That's okay, it's rhetorical, I know you're a genius. One question to a genius from a not-genius. If the consensus by others is it's okay for a not-genius to sacrifice a body part to a genius just because said not-genius has no intrinsic value to that consensus by others, consensi ...well, darn, now I forgot my question."
"Tony, first, I don't believe you just said darn, and second, I don't know what you're talking about. So I'm going to say this just once since Gibbs isn't here to head slap you into some sense. You are just as valuable as any genius or any other moron and your body parts are not for sale, okay?"
"What? What do you know, McGee? And, did you just call me a moron?"
"I know a lot, Tony and sorry, slip of the tongue. What I don't know is what you're talking about but my gut is telling me that you need to come home and disregard anything some nut in New York has put into your empty head. New York, never liked that place anyway."
"Ooh, blasphemy McGee. Who doesn't like New York?"
"Me. So pick you up at the airport at, what, 11 am sound good?"
"Did you just hack into the airport computer, McGee?"
"Is your phone line bugged, Tony?"
"No!"
"Then yeah, I did. So 11 am it is. Where are you right now, Tony? Bed? The couch?"
"What's it to you, McPhone-sex!
"I'm in the bed."
"Good. I'll give you a wake-up call, you're going to need it, DiBoozer."
Tony didn't have a comeback to that as he hung up.
McGee had woken him up as promised and picked him up at the airport a few hours later. They skirted the subject of Tony's New York visit, his red, puffy hands, and his strange night call to McGee, and both steered the conversation to the upcoming evening's double date.
Later that evening, McGee arrived at Tony's with a friend from his college days. Another egghead, Junie was very attractive and funny. Which was odd since she had one of the more serious jobs in the think tank arena of private business that even McGee didn't know what she did. She and McGee got on like brother and sister, fond of each other but not really romantically involved.
McGee showed an instance of surprise before a charming grin graced his face when he was introduced to Tony's girl Margret. Whatever his imagination had come up with, Margret was not it. Classic good looks, perfect complexion, brown sparkling eyes, shoulder length straight brown hair with attractive highlights and she was fashionably dressed in a straight skirt, blouse and short leather jacket. She was tall and lithe and, incongruously, voluptuous at the same time, with curves in all the right places.
McGee was used to the short, rail thinness of the E.J.'s and Jeanne's Tony had been attracted to in the past, even Ziva and Kate were tiny compared to this amazon. But the two complemented each other and made a striking pair attracting the attention of others when they all walked to the sweet shop for ice cream. And it was apparent that they genuinely liked each other.
McGee and Junie took some of the leftovers of the dinner Tony's tenant had so graciously prepared when she found out Tony had planned to take them all out to eat. The two bid their farewells, praising what a great time they had had.
Tony and Margret spent the rest of the weekend together before she had to fly out Sunday evening.
After she left, Tony quit putting off the inevitable and called Gibbs.
"Wondered if you were gonna call me. So, you a rich man?" Leave it to Gibbs, a man of such few words, to get right to the point.
"Not exactly. They will release the injunction but I have to sell one or possibly both of my kidneys for them to do that."
Tony had removed his shoes and perched his feet on the coffee table. He had consumed the last of the gourmet pizza Margret and he had snacked on earlier that evening and was now holding a cold and wet beer can to his forehead.
He removed the phone from his ear to stare at it for a moment, unsure if he and Gibbs were still connected.
"Gibbs? I know your middle name should be taciturn, but do you have any comment to make? At all? Cause if not..."
"I was waiting for you to elaborate a little."
"Elaborate? You're going to make me admit that my kidneys are worth a whole hell of a lot more to some people than I ever was. Fine, I can do that. I can even live with that. I already had my breakdown of the year so that's out of the way.
"And you know what, Gibbs, I'd laugh myself into a coma if the only thing that would get these people terminally out of my life is if I was actually terminal, cause I don't think even I could live without my kidneys.
"So, you told them no?"
"Hell, yes, I told them no!"
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yeah, good Tony. Not a good idea for you to go under the knife for any reason, you know that."
"Yeah."
"Talk to Ducky tomorrow anyway, he'll reiterate what you certainly already know."
There was the sound of snickering on the other end.
"... I know what reiterate means DiNozzo if that's what you're cackling about." Said Gibbs, unperturbed.
"Be on time tomorrow. Good night." was followed by the dial tone as Gibbs hung up.
"Night Boss," echoed Tony.
Monday morning made a bright and sunny appearance. Tony had arrived early to have a talk with Ducky. They sat sipping tea and eating scones while Tony told him the sorry details of his New York visit.
"So, Ducky as my primary physician, I await your estimable opinion."
"No, no and no! Anthony, I know that Dr. Pitt has gone over this with you extensively as have I, although ancient diseases are not my forte. However, we do not know the extent to which this disease may have affected your organs. Hence, the quarterly blood tests to assure that all is well, especially of your kidneys, lungs, heart and liver.
"For you to go under the knife, per se, Anthony, to have a kidney removed or in medical terms, a nephrectomy or even just a partial nephrectomy, which is becoming more common today, could potentially release or awaken from a dormant state the virus that could still be lying in wait, so to speak. We just do not know. Undergoing surgery of that nature could most likely be detrimental to your health in unknown ways. You are not a sacrificial lamb Anthony. We do not want to lose you.
"I am sorry that this person is ill but you are the last person who should be considered as a kidney donor. Donating a kidney that may potentially become infected with the plague would be an automatic death sentence to someone already weakened by his initial disease. Please do not allow yourself to be pressured Anthony. In my opinion it would be medical malfeasance if there is a surgeon out there who would even consider doing such a procedure on you!" Ducky paused to take a sip of tea.
"Wow, Ducky, you feel really strongly about this."
"Yes, I do, as should you, Anthony."
"Oh, I do Ducky. I do. But I wasn't thinking about any of that when I stormed out of that place. I just wanted to do something more than wring a few necks. It just took me by surprise and I didn't think anything they could do could surprise me anymore.
"Ducky, I...I sort of went into a fugue state and ended up calling McGee Friday night. He didn't have a clue what was going on but he surmised some things. He basically said my 'self' was as valuable as any other 'self' and not to let anyone else try to tell me otherwise.
"I know this. I just forget sometimes when dealing with that cadre of crazy misfits who ought to all be locked away somewhere just to give me a break. You said to tell you when this happens and how I dealt with it. What if it gets bad enough where I'm declared unfit for duty?"
"Anthony, were you able to stop what you were doing? Did you talk to Timothy coherently, well aside from being under the influence, of course, and also aside from your occasional lapses of coherency?"
"OKAY, Ducky." said Tony indignantly.
"Yes, well, my point being you could reason on things logically. And most importantly, you remember the episode, itself.
"If the answer is yes, then you are worrying needlessly about losing your job. This is your mind's reaction to unbearable stress over an, as yet, unresolved issue that has been going on for years, and I'm not just speaking of the issue of your grandmother's estate. It is similar to some people having heart palpitations or ulcers. It is a form of panic attack or what my generation used to call hysteria state.
"Come to think of it, it could be compared to the act of endlessly sanding away on a piece of wood in a dark basement with a shot of hooch in a jelly ja...hmm, well, never mind.
"Anyway, Anthony, I am glad you reached out to Timothy, he is a good man. It seems he is a good friend, also."
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me what a good friend McStabintheback is, Ducky. I've got to do something to his keyboard before he gets in or maybe dose his cocoa stash with baking powder or something. He thinks I don't remember he called me a moron AND empty headed in almost the same breath." Tony plotted his revenge as he sipped his tea.
"Uhm hmm," agreed Ducky who was used to Tony's mercurial temperament.
They sat in peaceful silence after that finishing their food. As it was, Tony left half his scone and most of his tea before bidding Ducky farewell and heading back to the bullpen. He thought of stopping in to see Abby, and a few months ago he would have barged right in, but since her attitude towards him had changed he hesitated to presume that she would welcome him with open arms, so he got on the elevator when it came instead and left.
Most of the morning was spent at the scene of a grizzly beheading. The body of an Army Reserve had been neatly posed on the golf course greens with a golf club in the right hand. The head and body appeared intact until Palmer got on his knees for a closer look and identified the jagged wound around the neck.
"Umm, Dr Mallard, be careful, the head is not attached to the body and that slope is pretty steep over there."
Needless to say, everyone was more than surprised when Tony didn't follow this statement with a totally inappropriate and highly crass rejoinder. But he had been quietly retrospective that morning. Since he didn't seem upset and was doing his job, he was left alone with his thoughts.
Back at the office, Tony delivered the evidence box to Abby's lab, finding the music blaring as usual when he entered.
"ABBY, I've got stuff. Are you here?"
The music was turned down and Abby appeared from her office.
"Tony, hi. Fancy seeing you down here since you've taken to acting like I have the plague or something."
Abby walked over to the table and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves out of a nearby box.
So that's the way it was going to be, Tony thought.
"Abby, come on. What's the matter? You're the one who's had a toe in her nail as Ziva would say, for weeks now. I could ask you the same thing."
"Why did you persuade McGee and Ziva not to go to Matt's party on Friday night, Tony?"
Tony looked at Abby incredulously.
Noting the look, Abby backtracked somewhat.
"Well, maybe not exactly persuaded because Ziva would have kicked your ass for annoying her and Tim would have pouted but I could have made him go, even if he didn't want to, if I'd had more time so I guess the question would be...well.
"Tony, I really like Matt. I just want to include him in our family, you know, you guys, Ducky and Palmer we're a team. Stop making fun of him and putting him down all the time, that's all I ask."
"I'll try, Abby."
"That's all you have to say, Tony, I'll try?" Abby pouted.
"Oh, never mind, Tony. There is something I needed to ask you though."
"Okay." Tony leaned against the counter, ready for some juicy gossip.
"Remember when I was approved for that kidney donation but they found another donor so they didn't need me?"
"Sure, I remember. Did you ever contact your brothers on that side of the fam..."
"TONY, please. Don't talk about things you know nothing about. My personal life has..."
"Okay, that's it!" Said Tony, who threw up his hands in surrender.
"I'm outta here, Abby. Geez, take a pill or something, would you."
"Tony, wait, I need to tell you something!" But Tony had flown the coup.
A few days later they were still working the case with every clue petering out. William Edwards had no enemies, no friends, no significant other, nothing to write home about. He lived alone, had a dull job as a clothing, uniform repair specialist which seemed to suit him, a modest checking account, nothing offshore that they could find, no recent deposits to a hidden savings account, nothing.
Someone had garroted this mousy, uninspiring, mediocre of a man for no apparent reason and they had spent more man hours in looking for the perp than if it had been a triple homicide. But, the man's murder deserved to be solved so they would work on it until it went polar. ice. cold.
Gibbs was pissed every time someone said, we got nothing, Boss; I have no further information, Gibbs; nothing more to report, Boss. Gibbs even threatened to call in the FBI if his agents were unable to do their jobs and find Something! They'd come in early and leave late, ate at their desks, and had no time for fooling around which was putting a serious hamper on Tony's plotting time.
When Gibbs' eagle eye disappeared for a minute, Tony told McGee that when this nightmare of a case was over, he'd get him back for the empty headed moron crack and McGee said Tony was drunk and misheard. McGee thought of all the things for this dimwit to remember while inebriated, it had to be that. Tim was in for a world of payback.
Gibbs came back with coffee for everyone and told them that he had not misheard that there was a waiting list for three new investigators that Human Resources had just released.
"But, Boss, we've looked, we've hacked, well McGee has hacked, Ziva's been yakkin on the phone all morning." Tony ignored the deathly glare.
"We've checked his books, his comic books, his recipe books, his library visits, his playing cards, his Bingo cards, his puzzles...his puzzles? Wait a minute. McGee? Didn't you say that the only time he was on line was when he was playing that number game...Sudoku, yeah Sudoku. Was he playing alone or with someone?"
McGee was on his keyboard before Tony stopped talking. He speedily did his magic while mumbling mumbo jumbo under his breath.
"Harry Harris. He played with Harry every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The last day they played on line was Friday evening."
"You got an address for Harry, McGee?" McGee handed Gibbs a sticky note.
"We'll take two cars."
"Gear up! DiNozzo with me."
By the time they got back, they knew the idiot was guilty. He had spilled his guts to Ziva and McGee on the ride back to the office even though they told him to shut up because anything he said could be used against him in a court of law. All that was left was the paperwork.
Harry Harris was even more nondescript than the victim. He lived with his elderly parents and shared their government pension check because he had always been a sickly kid and a momma's boy. His only outstanding attribute was his gigantic, swelled head. HE was the Reigning King in the online number game of Sudoku, which he played twenty hours out of the day with over fifty different opponents and he never lost.
"What's this game he's ranting about?" enquired Gibbs as he returned to his desk.
McGee put the Sudoku grid on the plasma screen.
"It's a combinatorial-number placement puzzle game, Boss. It's usually played on hard copy, uh paper, like in a puzzle book. Ever since it was introduced online it has become extremely popular. I think they are up to the 7th world Sudoku Championship this year, which has been held in different parts of the world. There is eve National Sudoku team, which is surprisingly well attended in its travels, and positions on the team are highly coveted. When two people play together it's called Duidoku, which is what Harris was noted for. The algorithmic of Sudoku..."
McGee turned mid-sentence from the screen to his audience to see DiNozzo's smirking countenance, Ziva's tolerant gaze and Gibbs, well there wasn't much of an expression on Gibbs' face but his eyes were twinkling. McGee's face got a little red as he quickly finished his oral essay.
"Edward's and Harris competed to get a step closer to being on the team. Edwards won, Harris got angry and lured him to his basement to celebrate his win and used some copper wiring he had in his garage to strangle Edwards.
"Harris bragged he didn't realize his own strength and continued to tighten and saw the wire until he severed the head. He was under the delusion that he was highly intelligent because that's what his mama always told him and he figured he could throw the authorities off the scent by dragging the body to the golf course and staging the scene."
McGee returned to his desk, mission accomplished, and stared his teammates down.
"His Mama, McGee?" said Gibbs, which had them all chuckling, even Gibbs in relief to have this ridiculous case solved.
Abby chose that moment to walk into the squad room with Simmons right behind her.
"Hey, you guys laughing cause you solved the case, huh? Congrats. But Gibbs' team is the best, we all know that. When you guys dig in nothing stands in your way. No super beings power is more powerful than team Gibbs..."
"Abby!" said Gibbs, "You need something?"
"Oh, no Gibbs, we're on our way to get lunch. Can we get you guys something? Lunch is on me. After all, super heroes have to eat too."
"Actually Abby, Tony is the one who found the clue that had us looking in the right direction. It was the only lead we had and fortunately it panned out..."
While McGee was expounding on Tony's save with Abby and Ziva, Gibbs had turned on his computer and ponderously began typing up his report. His Agents could take a minute to relax and order a meal before they started their reports. It was Gibbs' only acknowledgement to them of a job well done.
Simmons, looking grim, approached Tony who was sitting at his desk debating what he wanted for lunch since Abby was buying.
"I hear you're the big hero for finding the clue that got the case solved, huh, Tony? Leave it to you to find the most shitty clue in one of the most shittiest cases in the history of NCIS.
"What a joke. Too bad you can't use just some of your so called super powers to really help someone in need rather than strutting around like you've done something great over this dumb ass case!"
Simmons was staring down at him with such loathing that Tony was at first taken aback and rendered speechless.
"What did you just say?" Tony said when he recovered his voice, as he stood to face Simmons. His voice was not loud but there was an icy edge to it that caught the attention of people nearby.
Realizing they were suddenly the center of attention, Simmons straightened and turned to face his audience.
"Just telling Tony, job well done. You guys are the talk of NCIS. Good work. You ready Abby?"
Simmons smiled as he strolled confidently towards Abby, who looked troubled and bit her lip but nodded she was ready to go.
After they left, Gibbs leaned away from his computer to look at Tony.
"Trouble, Tony?"
"Naw, he's still a jealous jerk, Gibbs. You do know he thinks I'm expendable and he would fit much better in my slot if you got rid of me. What would you guys do without me?"
Tony preened, causing Ziva to snort in derision and McGee to roll his eyes heavenward. Gibbs just kept his blue lasers on Tony for another minute before turning back to his computer.
"Better be all it is Tony, otherwise you'd better speak up."
"Sure thing, Boss."
Abby had confronted him in the employee's parking lot the next morning and tried to apologize for Simmons but Tony told her that if he had an issue with her boyfriend, which he did not, then he, Tony, would deal with him directly, not through Abby the intermediary.
"But he's a good person, Tony, you just have to..."
Abby stopped talking when Tony held up his hand. He started walking towards the building with Abby following.
"Tony..."
"Excuse me, Abby, but what the hell is wrong with you?
"I. Don't. Care. Anything at all about Simmons. I never have and I never will. So if that's what your problem has been with me, Abby, well then, that's what it is, your problem." Tony left her standing by the elevator and took the stairs.
"Grab your gear," was the first thing Tony heard when he entered the bullpen.
Now, they were back in the office discussing their most recent case. Ducky was talking to Gibbs at his desk and Palmer was at Tony's desk reading off a list of meds they had found at the scene.
The elevator doors opened and Abby stepped out followed by a tall, handsome man with blond hair and hazel green eyes. The man looked around curiously at the orange walls and said something to Abby who shook her head and answered him back with a smile.
Abby's companion's stride was easy and confident as he followed closely behind her but he stopped magnanimously to allow two women to cross his path, who turned back quickly to check him out. He was dressed smartly in a gray suit and carried a briefcase. Heads turned as he passed but they were ignored as he followed Abby in to the MCRT bullpen.
Ducky glanced up when the elevator dinged and he went still, which of course Gibbs took notice of. Gibbs kept an eye on Ducky while he watched the stranger approach.
Ziva's eyes got shiny at the extremely attractive man coming her way and she straightened her hair and reached for her lipstick.
McGee saw Ziva staring and drooling and turned to watch the stranger being led by a smilingly confident Abby who stopped at Tony's desk. Palmer felt someone at his back and turned to move out of the way.
Tony looked up when Palmer stopped talking.
"Is that it, Palmer? I thou..."
Tony stared at the stranger standing in front of his desk.
"What in the hell are you doing here, Anton?"
A/N This is just fan fic, all for fun. Real life though is sometimes harsh. For those on the East Coast, I hope you weathered the storm and are in good health.