That's the way the cookie crumbles
by Pat
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That’s the way the Cookie Crumbles

Saturday Morning NCIS HQ. The team are on weekend callout shift.

“So what do you think? I got them at that new patisserie down town.” as Tony passed round a plate of gingerbread men.
“Bit politically incorrect to call them gingerbread men now, what with the racial thing.” Tim answered.
“Ok, what you want to call them, President Obama cookies? And they do shortbread ones too………..if you look,” now pointing to the white bread men, “ So is that against us white guys?”
“I, for one will take for later.” Ziva replied and she took a white shortbread man from the plate.
As one Special Agent Gibbs exited the lift and rounded the corner to his seat, he snatched a gingerbread man from the plate Tony was holding, “Good to see DiNozzo on the catering for a change” and sat at his desk. He bit into the leg of the biscuit, breaking it off.
“Mmmmmm good, where did you say you got?” he questioned, mouth full of biscuit.
“That new cookie shop and patisserie down the French Quarter……” Tony now answered beginning to look uncomfortable. He himself took a shortbread cookie and toyed with it, before flicking the silver sweet ball from the face. It left a hole, a socket where the bead had been.
“Know of it, one of those…… you don’t make a wish or think of something horrible. They say it is run by a voodoo sect.” now chewing on the other foot.
“Well I would never think bad of anyone Boss.” Tony now replied.
“May I have one of the shortbread men Tony, I feel the need to have a sugar rush, and ginger always gives me wind.”
“Of course my dear sweet Probie,” handing Tim the plate. Tim took one and nibbled at the arm before biting it off.
It had not started well at the FBI shooting range.
“What you mean I need to do that again. My eyesight is fine for shooting someone. Ok I may not kill them but they ain’t gonna walk in a hurry.” one Agent Tobias Fornell snarled. He reloaded the gun, took aim and fired………….
“Call 911,” he heard someone shout. All he could feel was ………nothing………all he saw was the blood seeping from what was left of his arm. He passed out.
Director Leon Vance, had woken late, it was the weekend his leg hurt and he didn’t know why. He tried to stand, but the pain was unbelievable. He thought cramp. Jackie was not convinced and called the Doctor.
“No idea, never seen anything like this before……….when did you say it came on?” he now asked Leon.
“This morning……….I thought it was just cramp in the leg…………but now I can’t feel the toes in my other foot.”
“Mrs Vance……….I think……….no, I know ……..your husband will have to go for surgery. I can’t be sure but I think this is the quickest and most dangerous form of gangrene I have ever encountered. In fact I would say that it is a bacteria from outer space, definitely alien. Mrs Vance is there anyone who would wish your husband harm?” the Doctor now asked.
“No, why.” Jackie replied.
“Nothing…….. but voodoo seems to spring to mind.”
The phone rang at Gibbs desk, it was Jackie Vance. She had some bad news to tell. The Director had succumbed to an infection. It had caused gangrene and he had, had to have had his leg and other foot amputated. It was terrible, but could Gibbs watch the office until they could get the deputy Director. She didn’t know if Leon would survive the night.
“No problem,” Special Agent Gibbs replied taking a bite out of the middle of the gingerbread man.
Doctor Mallard was having problems. He had tried to catch the dogs all morning. They knew that now, with his mother in a home, he really couldn’t keep them in control. They needed walks, attention, love and care, he could not give it. That was why he had, after a long and heart reaching decision, they were to go to the Welsh Corgi Rescue Society, they would be well looked after. As he tried to catch Tyson and clip the lead into his collar, Tyson jumped and the latch flipped up and caught Dr Mallard in the eye. All Dr Mallard could see, was red liquid, he tried to call Jimmy.
The phone rang on Jethro’s desk, he answered, it was the FBI, sorry but Tobias had had an accident on the firing range. His arm had been blown off. As Gibbs told the others, Tim just looked at the biscuit man and tossed the rest in the bin. It was intact, bar for the one arm Tim had eaten.
An uneasy peace began to flow over the others. Tony looked at his biscuit. He wondered……….the phone rang. Jimmy to say that Dr Mallard was in hospital. Terrible accident. He would probably be medically retired. The surgeon wasn’t sure if they could save his eye. Terrible, but would that mean he was now in charge until they could get a new Medical Officer?
They sat there, unsure what to do. Tony picked up the plate, “Anyone want another?”
They shook their heads, “Don’t believe in coincidences,” Gibbs had muttered, now throwing the half eaten man in the bucket, rising and leaving, “Going to the hospital to see Fornell and Ducky.”
“Think I’ll go home,” Tim replied, now standing and looking about.
“Me too, there is a film I want to catch on the TV. You OK Ziva?” looking at her. She nodded. The three men left in the elevator.
As Ziva sat at her desk reflecting on the days events she unwittingly and subconsciously bit the head off the biscuit…………….on the other side of town one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, ex Baltimore cop, did not see the stolen artic lorry appear from nowhere, and as the car slide under the flatbed and the roof of the car became separated from the main frame, Tony’s head fell from his body.

The End.