Tony entered the bullpen with a cheery smile. "Here you are, m'lady," he said, handing a coffee to Ziva, then one to McGee.
"Thanks, Tony," Tim said in surprise. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion!" Tony said. "Can't a guy get his teammates coffee?"
"You are in an excellent mood today, Tony," Ziva said. "Unusually so for a Monday."
"I had an excellent weekend, Ziva," Tony said. "Am I ever one to squander a weekend off?"
Before Ziva or Tim could answer, Gibbs entered the bullpen, passing all three of his agents as he did so, and causing all three agents to stare at the circles under his eyes in shock.
"What?" he asked as they continued to stare. Tim and Ziva scattered to their desks in reply, leaving DiNozzo to answer.
"You ok, Boss?" Tony asked. Gibbs turned to look at his oldest agent, and Tony fell silent.
"You look tired, Gibbs," Ziva finished, somewhat courageously. But instead of getting mad, their boss nodded. "I'm fine, Ziva," he assured her, taking a swig of his coffee. It was extra strength (more so than usual, not that he would ever admit that) to hide the fact that he was somewhat run down. The escapades of the night before had stronger effects than he had expected, and he needed sleep.
"Director's office," the fearless leader announced to his agents.
"We have a case, Boss?" Tim asked, as they climbed the stairs behind the bullpen.
"Apparently," he responded, entering Vance's office without knocking, as usual.
...
"Gibbs," the director greeted, nodding to the other agents. "I have a case for you."
Tim and Ziva listened intently, while Gibbs and Tony raised their eyebrows in question. Normally, when Vance presented a case to them in his office, it was an important one.
The director picked up a remote and clicked it toward his TV. Several pictures of a dead marine flashed onto the screen.
"This is First Sergeant Steve Miller. He was found dead yesterday evening by a passerby walking her dog."
The three younger agents frowned in disgust. The First Sergeant was torn up terribly, with odd puncture wounds on his chest. Some areas of his legs and arms seemed crushed, as well as his skull. Blood was everywhere, but the worst part was the marine's pallor: his skin was a sickly gray, as if he had been killed by disease and not by some attacker. Even Ziva, who stayed composed at the worst of blood baths, felt slightly ill looking at the picture. No one should be that shade of gray.
Gibbs, however, remained stone-faced as he studied the picture. He looked at Vance, who stared pointedly back at him. They knew what this was, though the young investigators did not.
"Where was he found?" Tim asked, looking at the director.
"Volare Notte, Italy," Leon said, earning blank stares from his agents, and a skin-melting glare from their team leader. "I'm sure you know there's a small naval station there. It's only a few miles away from Venice."
"And you want us to go there?" Tony asked incredulously.
Vance nodded. "There is only one agent in Volare Notte right now, and he has to be in Hawaii in three days for his new position. So I told him I would send a team out immediately."
Gibbs continued to glare, but Leon ignored him. DiNozzo, McGee and Ziva all looked slightly skeptical. However, Tony shrugged. "I haven't been to Italy in forever."
"I've never been at all," Tim admitted. Tony and Ziva looked at him in amazement.
"It is a beautiful country, McGee," Ziva said. "You'll love it."
"Yeah," Tony agreed eagerly. "Maybe if we solve the case early we can-"
"Ah-hem," the director cleared his throat to get their attention. "So I take it you all will go. I'll let the agent there know. Go home and prepare to leave- your flight departs at 8:00. Pack light, but remember that you'll most likely be there a week, maybe longer."
Tim, Ziva and Tony all filed out of the director's office, but Gibbs stayed behind to discuss the case with Vance. Before Leon could say anything, his office door was closed to outside listeners, and Gibbs was right on the other side of his desk, an angry look on his face.
"No, Leon."
"Gibbs-"
"They're not going."
"They seemed pretty eager to go."
Jethro turned and paced the office. "Is there nobody in the entire country of Italy that can handle this case?"
"There is no NCIS agent in the entire country of Italy that can handle this case," Vance retorted. "The only hunters in that area right now are FBI, CIA, or civilians. And since it was a marine death, it is in our jurisdiction."
It was clear that this wasn't good enough for Gibbs, and the director sighed. "Look, you and I both know who is probably the cause of this. And you're the most qualified to deal with him. Besides, it could just be a regular murder, in which case we'll need a team to investigate anyway."
Jethro's jaw unclenched, and he nodded. Secretly, he was somewhat excited to have this case. But he sure as hell wasn't going to drag his team into this if he could avoid it.
"You gonna tell them?" Vance asked, reading his agent's mind.
"I don't know Leon. We don't even know what it is."
"What if we're right? What if it is-"
"Then I'll tell them."
The director heard the venom in his voice, and regarded his best agent for a moment. "You don't want them to know, do you?"
"Just trying to keep them safe."
"Ignorance of the truth won't keep them safe, Gibbs."
Ignoring the look that his statement earned him, Director Vance went back to sorting the papers on his desk. As Gibbs turned and went to open the door, he added, "That being said...be careful, Jethro."
A small smirk played on the corners of the team leader's mouth. "Always am, Leon."
...
His agents were already packing up their belongings and preparing their desks for a long absence by the time Gibbs reached the bullpen.
"Go home," he ordered. "Get some rest. Pack light, be back here by 6:30."
"Yes, Boss," Tony said, as he and Ziva strolled to the elevator. Gibbs looked up to notice his youngest agent had stayed behind, hovering between the team leader's desk and his own.
"Problem, McGee?" Gibbs asked, not unkindly. Tim looked genuinely concerned. And in reality, Gibbs knew the feeling. His gut was screaming at him that this case was a bad idea, but he pushed the feelings away as McGee spoke.
"Well it's just that..." Tim began, unsure of what to say. He was curious, but didn't want it to seem like he was questioning his boss or the director's decisions. "Why aren't NCIS agents in Italy handling the case? Why us?"
Gibbs looked at his agent for a moment. His agents- his kids- meant the world to him, and he wasn't all that excited to drag them into a case with a potentially lethal killer. Yes, they had faced psychopaths and murderers before, but they always knew what they were facing. They were trained for that; they were prepared. He wanted to tell them what they might be facing. Yet..he really didn't want to drag them into the miserable world he called his second job.
"Guess they need a team from D.C. to show them how it's done," he said. Tim smiled at his reply.
"Guess so. See you later, Boss."
Jethro nodded at his agent as he too exited the bullpen. Then, he dialed a number on his desk phone.
"Autopsy," Ducky's voice picked up.
"Hey, Duck."
"Jethro! Do we have a case?"
"Yeah, in Italy."
"Italy? Oh my. Why don't NCIS agents in..." Ducky understood the silence, even over the phone. "...oh. Is this what I think it is, Jethro?"
"Not sure yet, Duck. Looks like it."
"Ah. Then I take it you'd like me to accompany your team for more than just my medical expertise?"
"Something like that," Gibbs grinned into the phone.
"Fascinating. I haven't dealt with a case like this one in years."
"I know."
"If you don't mind, I'd like Mr. Palmer to stay behind. For safety's sake."
Gibbs frowned, wishing he could say the same for his agents. But he needed his team with him, especially if this case turned out to be just an average murder. Ducky continued, unawares.
"Have you explained the situation to Anthony, Ziva, and Timothy?"
"Not really."
Ducky paused, then continued gently. "Jethro, they should know what they are going to be investigating-"
"I'll tell them if I have to, Duck," Gibbs said. The ME sighed. "I suppose I understand. What time should I be ready to leave?"
"6:30"
"I'll see you then."
Ducky hung up the phone just as Palmer entered via the sliding doors.
"Mister Palmer, I have some news for you."
Jimmy's eyes widened, and he began to stutter. "If this has something to do with the Petri dish mixup, I told Abby that-"
"No no Mr. Palmer, nothing like that," Doctor Mallard chuckled in spite of himself. "Our team has been assigned a case in Italy for the next week or so."
Jimmy frowned. His anniversary was coming up in the next week, and he didn't think Breena would appreciate his absence. "Are we all going?"
"Well," Ducky continued. "I though I might go alone. I don't mean to send the wrong message, I'd like you to accompany me, but we need an ME to stay here, and I can't get a replacement from Metro any time soon."
Jimmy brightened. "I don't mind staying, Doctor. My anniversary is coming up."
"Excellent," Ducky smiled as he stood and began packing his things. "Then I'll leave you in charge. You will have to respond to any and all cases in my absence, mind you."
Palmer frowned once again. "Me?"
"Don't worry, Jimmy," Ducky said as he placed his hat on his head. "I have faith in you. And besides, I've found that probationary agents are just as afraid of us as they are their team leaders."
The autopsy gremlin brightened. "Thank you, Doctor Mallard. Have a nice trip."
"Thank you, Mister Palmer, I will," the older man said as the sliding doors closed behind him.
...
Tim had just finished zipping up his suitcase when the phone rang. He picked it up, noting the name on caller ID. "Hey Abby, I was just about to call you."
"Hey, Tim. Vance just told me about Italy."
"Are you coming with us?" McGee asked eagerly.
"No, I gotta stay here and run evidence for all the other cases," Abby replied sadly. "But I'm going to miss you all."
"It's only for a week or so, Abs."
"I know, but every time you all go on a trip, something bad happens!"
Tim chuckled, touched that Abby was worried about him. "I'll be fine. We all will be."
"Good. Now, do you need me to watch Jethro while you're gone?"
McGee smiled at his dog, who was sitting obediently at his feet, waiting to be fed. "That's exactly why I was about to call you. You don't mind watching him for a few days?"
"Seriously?"
"That's what I thought. I'll drop him off on my way back to the Navy Yard."
"Ok, see you soon!"
Tim hung up and reached down to pet his dog, who affectionately leaned into the touch. "You're gonna be staying at Abby's for a couple days," he said, to which Jethro perked up his ears. He knew exactly what that meant, and he loved visiting Abby. He licked his owner's face, and Tim laughed, straightening up. "I thought so. Come on, boy. Let's get your leash."