Disclaimer : Still own nothing. Just having fun.
Author's Note : Love seeing all the alerts and favs on this story. Absolutely love seeing the review as well.
Hope you guys are enjoying this.
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5:09pm – Forensics Lab – NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC –
Checking around the shelving unit on the lab bench, Tony slides a few bottles of unknown, and hopefully benign, chemicals out of his view. When he sees a lab coat rush past the other side, he tries to follow its path, miscalculating just how far he can stretch on the lab stool. When it lurches out from underneath him, almost pitching him to the floor, Abby hoists him back to his seat on her way past.
"Thanks, Abs."
Her resolve weakens slightly; a small smile appears on her face before she averts her gaze. Shaking her head, she rushes to check the nonexistent results on her mass spectrometer. Tony settles back into his seat, watching her bounce to another machine in the corner. She tries to sneak a peek at him over her shoulder, whipping her head around when she notices him staring.
Sighing, he leans onto his forearms.
He still can't believe that only a few hours ago he retreated from the firestorm in the bullpen to the safety of the forensic lab. While he could never find comfort in the macabre décor or whirring machines, the throaty voice and bright smile of its lone inhabitant always makes him smile.
As he stares as his succor's back, he can't fathom why she isn't up to her usual task.
When he first arrived, she spent nearly an hour talking animatedly about the recent exploits in her and her machines' lives. She even regaled him with Tim's latest dating disaster, but she hadn't even made it to the good part when an e-mail came through. Based on the way she suddenly stopped talking, Tony figures it had to be from Tim about his upcoming, undercover mission.
Tony checks his watch -
I wonder if they're done in the bullpen yet.
Knowing my luck, Colvin's probably still schmoozing Director Shepard.
-and sighs.
"Abs…" His voice trails off at the look on her face.
"Tony." The two stare at each other silently until she wavers. "I can't believe you're leaving."
"What makes you say that?"
"McGee's e-mail says that you are. Well, not leaving, leaving, but leaving." Tony's eye twitches. "He said you were leaving for a while. I can't believe that you're going undercover. No, wait, nevermind. I can believe that you're going undercover, but I can't believe that it's deep cover. What does that even mean?!"
"No contact with anybody except my handler," he explains, sagging deep against the bench when her lower lip juts out.
"What about Gibbs?"
"Not even Gibbs. But I won't be gone too long. Maybe a month or two at most."
Abby presses her lips together, sliding next to him. When her head rests on his shoulder, he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Only the hum of the lab equipment breaks the silence.
Suddenly pulling away, she glances at him with earnest eyes.
"So how do you get back in? Just walk into one of this guy's hangouts and say, 'Hey … ' "
She gestures to Tony for the name of the target.
"Carreras."
"So you just walk into this guy's hangout and say 'Hey, Carreras, long time no see, how ya been, man?'"
"Basically," he laughs.
If I tried that, Carreras would put a bullet in my head…it'll take a bit more finesse.
"So who're you going to be?"
"Anthony Masterson," he replies, surprised by how familiar the name still feels on his tongue.
"Whoa, like the outlaw?"
"Actually it's Marlon Brando from Guys and Dolls."
Tony pretends to hang his head while Abby laughs.
"I could totally see it."
"Yeah…I originally tried to use Antonio Corleone, but my chief shot me down. Told me I'd get myself killed with a name like that. He suggested Masterson, and I like to think he meant the outlaw."
"Antonio Corleone, huh? The Godfather, nice," she grins. "Brando or Pacino?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
She shakes her head and they both say, "Pacino," simultaneously.
"I bet you could've pulled it off. I'm not sure about Guys and Dolls though. You don't have the legs for it," she winks, quickly appraising Tony's physique.
A wicked glint blazes through her eyes as she turns to her computer, loading the Metro criminal database. When he realizes that she's looking up his undercover identity, Tony reaches after her hands. Sticking her tongue out at him, Abby slides the wireless keyboard out of his reach.
Before he can stop her, she accesses Masterson's criminal record.
Deciding he doesn't want to see his alter ego's mug shot, Tony stares back at the door. He doesn't need to see it to remember Masterson's depraved glare in the picture.
"You know, you should totally stop shaving. You're kinda hot when you're scruffy," Abby assesses. "Let's see. Anthony Masterson, born August 14, 1974. Took a couple years off there, huh? Raised by a single mom in Mobile, Alabama. Graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in horticulture. Really, Tony? You and plants? I just can't see it. I bet you'd have a black thumb like me. You shoulda seen when I tried to grow -"
Tony coughs, finally glancing at the information on the screen.
"Pretty impressive rap sheet too," she continues. "Couple of B&E's, assault with a deadly weapon, aggravated assault. So you just got out of Lewisburg for a burglary in Pittsburgh. Whoever put this together is a master. This identity is almost ironclad. Even I'd arrest you."
When Abby winks, he can't help but laugh.
"Yeah, my old partner put it together before I went undercover. It was his idea to do a bar crawl before the mug shot. You should've seen how much Danny put away that night. There were a ton of picture of his - well, that was the best one of my face. I'm surprised the chief didn't make him sleep it off in lock-up." Tony grins. "McGee's probably updated it since I've been down here."
Abby nods her assent, still staring intently at the mug shot. When she points to Masterson's neck, Tony sees the peak of the flame underneath his collar. Within seconds, her hands are on his shirt so she can expose his virgin flesh. Her lips pull into a frown.
"I knew you weren't cool. Masterson is though. What kinda tat is that?"
"I had a fireball on my neck. When I actually joined the cartel, one of my buddies at the precinct made me a temp tattoo of the star and partial skeleton with vegetable dye," Tony explains, pointing to the side of his neck and left arm. Remembering how the marks felt on his body instantly disgusts him.
"Cool, how long'd that last?"
"Barely a month. Worked out great except I had to get it touched up all the time."
"Well, I bet it looked cool. You're doing that again with the FBI, right? Don't worry about all those touch-ups. I made my own temporary ink that lasts longer than their vegetable dye. Totally works great for hanging out at bars…or undercover assignments."
Tony notices Abby's amused smirk.
"You tested on McGee, didn't you?"
"Oh yeah. My friends didn't like him when we first started dating. I figured giving him a tattoo would make him cooler." When Tony shakes his head, Abby laughs. "Like I said, I thought…so I used my temporary ink on him. Did a really awesome version of my name on his arm. I thought it looked great, but he didn't like it and my friends still didn't think he was cool. So I offered to turn it into a dragon…but he said no."
"So that explains why he wouldn't wear short sleeves that first summer he worked here."
"You betcha," she says, then suddenly holds her hands out as she sniffs the air loudly. "Gibbs, incoming!"
Tony inhales, smelling only the odd scents of the lab. When he turns around, he finds Gibbs standing by his side. Before either of them can speak, Abby lunges for the Caf-Pow, slamming into Tony who's in her way. With a muted grunt, Gibbs pushes them both back.
"Whaddya got, Abs?"
"Uh, Gibbs, you got my report, right? I thought I already e-mailed it to McGee. He should've printed it out for you. You know, I bet he forgot to collate it again. The numbers are on the bottom of the page. If they're not in the right order, just pop out the staple and rearrange them. Or make him do it." She stops when she notices Gibbs staring at Tony. "Oh yeah, I forgot Major Mass Spec has something for you on that tooth sample I ran through earlier."
"What's that?"
Tony presses his back against the lab bench, watching Abby grab Gibbs' arm on the way to the piece of equipment. When he catches his boss glaring at him in the computer monitor, he studies the stitching on his Ferragamos.
"There it is!" she exclaims, jabbing her finger at a tiny point on the scale of chemicals.
"What am I looking at, Abs?"
"The chemical make-up of the sample that I took from the teenager's tooth. When I ran the demineralized sample, he identified all the components. A tooth is mostly comprised of hydroxyapatite, as well as a buncha other stuff." When Gibbs stares at her intently, she grins. "But that's not important right now. What is though is that little spike, right there." She points to a barely identifiable blip on the scale. "It's a heavier version of hydroxyapatite. While I still have to send the sample out for isotope analysis, the weight is just enough for it to be comprised of oxygen–18 instead of oxygen–16."
Gibbs shrugs and Abby sighs like no one ever understands her.
"Oxygen – 18 is used to determine the rate of degradation of the polar ice caps."
"What's that have to do with the tooth, Abs?"
"If the polar ice caps melt, the water works its way into the drinking water. It starts up north, running down towards the rest of the planet."
"So the more of that she has in her teeth, the closer she grew up to the polar ice caps?" Tony surmises.
"Bing, bing, we have a winner." Abby grins, clapping at his correlation. "The oxygen – 18 means that she probably grew up near an ice cap. With the dentistry and tooth structure, my money's on Siberia. I can confirm it once I run the chemical make-up of her bones. I need about 48 hours before my sample's good to go."
When Abby reaches for the CafPow again, Gibbs relinquishes it without a fight. With a salute to both men, she retreats to her office to enjoy her spoils. Staring at the spikes on the monitor, Tony clears his throat. He doesn't get the chance to speak his mind when Gibbs heads for the door.
"Boss?" he asks, trailing Gibbs into the hallway.
Gibbs goes straight for the elevator, pressing his hand against the buttons but not calling the car. Back to his senior agent, he exhales slowly.
"Don't try to tell me that you have no choice." When Tony starts to protest, Gibbs turns around. "That shit might work on McGee, but it doesn't on me."
Tony sighs, taking a step closer. "You of all people should know that I don't. We find a dead girl that's connected to the Angel Caido. Knowing Carreras like I do, there's a good chance that there are more out there somewhere. What do you want me to do, boss? Run and hide like Fornell suggested? You taught me better than that."
"And Colvin's threats?"
"Whatever she said, it's not gonna happen. This thing almost destroyed her career so she'll do whatever she can to stop them. I'm just the means to the end. Maybe she'll get a nice promotion in the process…"
The anger slowly leaves Gibbs' face, replaced by concern.
Haven't seen that since the night Kate died…
"Boss," Tony continues quietly. "It's just a matter of time before a whole slew of girls end up in autopsy. You think I want to see that go down and know I had a chance to stop it?"
They both stare at each other in silence until Gibbs nods slowly. He moves close enough to squeeze Tony's shoulder and press an object into his hand.
"Programmed directly to my cell," Gibbs murmurs. "You call and I will come."
Staring at the ancient cell phone in his grasp, Tony nods his thanks.
"So what's the plan?" Gibbs asks, heading back to finally call the elevator.
"Headed over to the Hoover Building tomorrow morning to start the briefing. I think I'll be there for a week or two while the Feebees get all the details figured out. Not sure if I'll be around here or not." The scowl Gibbs shoots over his shoulder tells Tony that he won't be back at NCIS until after the assignment. "Who's TAD?"
"Suzuki, had to cancel his vacation," Gibbs growls.
Boss' gonna love that. Suzuki can't even say 'Gibbs' without freaking out.
Wish I could see him work on the team…
"Low man on the totem pole, huh?"
Grinning at his boss' exasperated eye roll, Tony slides next to him, staring at their reflections in the polished metal surface.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Not sure how long with the briefing. I'm hoping two to three months."
The tense of Gibbs' jaw muscles reeks of doubt. When the elevator doors finally open, he enters alone.
"How'd that work out for you last time, DiNozzo?"
Tony's mouth gapes, and he can't find the words before the elevator closes. Sighing quietly, he stares at his shapeless reflection on the door. When he can't bare the distorted image any longer, he turns around to face the empty hallway.
"Not so good, boss."
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Author's Note 2.0 : Undercover work starts tomorrow!