Chapter 1 – Everything Unseen
"McGee."
"Yea, Boss?" Tim looked up from his desk, staring into the bullpen. Gibbs wasn't there. Confused, he glanced at Ziva, who was still sitting at her desk, poring over scans of crime scene photos. Tony was sitting really close to the edge of his desk, glaring at his computer screen, which emitted little blasting noises in response to him pounding all the aliens.
"You guys see Gibbs?" Tim ventured.
They looked up in unison, both seemingly amused about something or other Tim couldn't pinpoint. Tony scratched the back of his neck.
"Could've sworn I just heard Gibbs." He sounded desperate to prove that he wasn't totally losing it. The entire team had been on the case for nearly fourteen hours straight. Dead marine in Quantico. Gibbs himself was already on the edge – less about the fact that he had been working long enough to down fifteen cups of coffee, and more about the fact that Joey – having pulled enough pranks on her most recent babysitter (and every other one Gibbs had ever hired) to make her never want to see a child again – had to accompany him to work that morning. It was now about seven or eight p.m., and he had instructed Joey to stay in Abby's lab and try to get some sleep.
However, Joey was not in Abby's lab. She was under Tony's desk, and although Tony knew that, Tim did not. Joey cupped her hands around her mouth and called him again.
"McGeeeee...." she sounded uncannily LIKE Gibbs, to the point of it being a little unnerving.
"Yes, Boss?" Tim looked up again, slightly disturbed to see Gibbs NOT there. He turned to Tony, who was giving what looked like a fist-five to someone under his desk. Tim hunched over and squinted across the floor at Joey, who giggled and started to crawl out from under the desk.
Tony, on sudden impulse, kicked her when he saw Gibbs coming down the hallway, back from Interrogation. Joey shrank back, glaring at Tony, and then making frantic gestures at McGee in an effort to urge him not to say anything. He nodded furtively, and she smiled in relief.
"McGee..." Gibbs stepped into the bullpen.
"Yes, Boss?" He replied in calm respect.
Gibbs was silent for a minute, and then shook his head slowly. "I need coffee."
"Sure, Boss." McGee rose and turned towards the break room corridor. When he was out of Gibbs's line of sight he shot Joey a vengeful look and pointed at her, disappearing around the corner. Gibbs stepped around to his desk and began shuffling through some files. Joey held on hand over her mouth to prevent herself from making noise, but still smiled, unphased by McGeek's gesture.
McGee came back with the coffee and continued to work, going over insurance records on the plasma, not saying anything.
After a few minutes Gibbs rose without announcing leave, and it was evident that the case was finally wearing him down and leaving him a little subjugated. Ziva hadn't had much luck with witnesses, and physical evidence was minimal and rather unhelpful for any leads.
"Where ya goin,' Boss?" Tony inquired.
"Abby's – see if she got any partials on the gun and/or, with any luck," he cocked his head slightly, "Jo'll be asleep." Joey's eyes went wide and she gulped, looking up at Tony with her hands up. "Say something!" she mouthed.
"Uh...oh, well – she went to the bathroom." She punched him on the leg. "What kind of lie is that?"
"Which one?" Gibbs slid back into the bullpen, eyeing his senior agent suspiciously.
"By the break room, Boss." Tony looked back at his computer to hide the empty look in his eyes.
"It's out of order, Tony." He retorted firmly.
"Must have gone upstairs then."
"Hmm....alright." Gibbs strode past Tony's desk and pounded the elevator UP button. The very second after he was inside and the doors closed, Joey popped out from under DiNozzo's desk and shot upstairs to beat the machine. When she reached the landing she glared down at Tony and threw her hands up in the air in a mad dash for "someone to find her an alibi," as the quote went by her tongue. The director's door was open and she slipped inside. From her seat behind her desk, Director Shepard glanced up at her in confusion.
"Director," Joey panted, "I've been here for the last 45 minutes, okay?"
Before she could respond, Gibbs emerged from the hallway and paced into the room. Joey was sitting on the conference table, trying to look innocent. Gibbs just glared at her for a second, and then pulled his gaze away to meet Jenny's eyes.
"I just heard someone running up the stairs." He faced Jen, who was still a little shocked, but collected herself quickly, as if snapping out of some kind of trance.
Director Shepard just raised her eyebrows and looked at Joey, who looked back, fervid and desperate.
"DiNozzo said you went to the bathroom." He pierced his goddaughter with steel-blue eyes.
"I did," she lied, "and then I wanted to ask the Director something, and I came up here." She replied calmly, nodding affirmatively for good measure. It almost sounded rehearsed.
"How long has she been here?" Gibbs turned back to Director Shepard.
"Why, Jethro, Joanne has been here in my office for the last-"
"45," Joey interjected quickly without interrupting the flow of the sentence.
"-minutes." Jen finished and looked up at Gibbs, whose frustration was peaking quickly.
"Hm." He looked back at Joey, a light grin crossing his face. "Back to the lab." He nodded towards the door, and she slid off the table.
"Yes, sir." She affirmed, relived.
When she reached the little landing halfway down the stairs, Joey reached over the railing and gave DiNozzo a high-five.
"Thanks for covering me, Tony. Jethro said the next time I get in trouble I was going to regret ever buying my first cherry bomb."
Both Tony and Joey stared out into space in contemplation of that awesome event.1
Gibbs came down the stairs.
"Don't thank him yet, Jo." He mused, stopping behind her on the landing.
Joey stopped moving for a second and a cringe crossed her face. Crap.
"DiNozzo! Back to work!" Gibbs grabbed his young goddaughter by the collar and led her down the stairs.
As they passed McGee's desk, Tim tossed Joey a satisfied smile, and she grimaced menacingly at him as Gibbs escorted her down the hallway and back to Abby's lab. Outside the winter breeze had begun to pick up again, and the streetlamps had come on, signaling the end of the day for everyone but the team, and each of them made a point of it by staring out the window longingly, eager for sleep, or at least some more coffee.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Answers, Abs." Gibbs released Joey upon entering the lab and she stumbled into a seat on one of the barstools, rolling her shoulder and adjusting the lapels of her dark brown hoodie shirt, then rolling up the cuffs of the black thermal tee she was wearing under that. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and picked a piece of gum off of her grey all-stars.
"Perfect timing, Gibbs!" Abby chimed. Joey slid off the barstool and pulled herself to a sitting position on top of the desk Abby was working at, then skimmed over her findings.2
"There was a bullet left in the gun, and since we couldn't get many striations off of the bullet, being so heavily damaged from bouncing around inside your dead marine and, not to mention the fact that it was a ricochet-"
"Abs." Gibbs cocked his head at her, a firm frustration playing across his face. She nodded and smiled.
"No hits on the bullet in the ballistics database yet," she pointed up at the large center plasma, which was rapidly flipping through bullet listings, "but then I found the bullet in the gun you found, and I thought I'd give it a shot...no pun intended."
Gibbs looked back at her in anticipation.
"Perfect match to what little striations we had. So, this gun," she held it up triumphantly, "is the murder weapon."
Gibbs inclined his head in approval. "That's good work, Abby."
Joey swallowed, looking at the ground as Gibbs approached her. He lifted her chin with a light pop of his index finger and took hold of the front of her shirt, (as he often did to get her attention) without making her move from her seat on the counter.
"How long were you under Tony's desk?"
She rubbed her right ear subconsciously. "Maybe...twenty or thirty minutes, Jethro."
He nodded, confirming his own suspicions about her lying to him. Of course, it isn't that hard to tell.
"How'd you know I was lying?" She ventured quietly.
He opened his mouth and smiled.
She raised one eyebrow. "It's because you can always tell when Tony's lying, isn't it?"
"No. It's because I can always tell when you're lying."
She smiled faintly, "well, there was that one time-"
One stern look from Gibbs was all it took to shut her up.
"You had a paper to write yesterday. Chemistry, or something like that."
She nodded.
You do it?" He questioned mildly.
"I was...going to." She squinted in thought.
"Mmhm...I want that paper on my desk in two hours." He let go of her shirt and helped her off of the counter, turning to leave.
"But it's already 8 p.m.! I haven't even eaten dinner yet!" She protested.
"Should've thought of that before you disobeyed me, Joey." Gibbs disappeared through the sliding-glass door of Abby's lab.
Joey sighed and clapped her hands to her face in a childlike anguish.
"There are a few chocolate bars in my left desk drawer," Abby intervened on the general groaning emitting from the young eleven-year-old girl in front of her.
"Thanks, Abs." She took leave.
"Watch out for cherry bombs!3" Abby shouted over the computers. Joey just looked at her in confusion, slightly horrified – not about the fact that Abby hadn't yet forgotten the incident, but that she really WOULD, most likely, try to get revenge.
"Thanks, Abby...."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Two hours later found Joey in Abby's small office, slumped across the couch, just finishing her sixth candy bar – the last of the bunch. As she polished off the end of her paper – "In conclusion, Thallium is radioactive," she stood, groaning under the weight of six candy bars worth of peanuts, caramel, and milk chocolate.
Slowly she stood and crept out of the room. Abby was working in the ballistics office next door and dancing to the Evanescence playing on her stereo. Shaking herself violently in effort to alleviate the desire to collapse now consuming her, Joey stumbled off down the hallway and into the bullpen. To her utter dismay, no one was there.
I walked all the way down here for nothin'. She cursed the silence in the air of the bullpen and tossed her paper down on her godfather's desk. Geez, I'm tired. She noticed a post-it note stuck to the front of Gibbs's monitor. It read "LOOK AT THE PLASMA SCREEN." Joey did so, pivoting on the spot and walking around to see it from the front. A word processing program was opened and a message had been typed out there for her.
"Went back to Quantico at about 9:30. Should be back before 11. Don't stay up late watching movies, try to stay out of trouble, and check with Duck before you do anything. –Jethro."
Joey smiled a little at this, but did not understand the movie remark. As far as she knew, there weren't even any movies for her to watch. She yawned, closing her eyes and stretching for a few seconds.
"Wow. You could've driven a truck through that."
Joey looked around, startled. Nobody was there. She looked up at the second-floor landing – and caught the amused gaze of Director Shepard. She had her briefcase and jacket, apparently ready to go home. The director grinned and feigned a yawn in mocking.
Joey just rubbed her face with her hands.
"Tired?" The director inquired.
"Yea, well...everybody's gone. I'm gonna go find a place to lie down." She yawned again and ran a hand through her short, messy hair, watching as Jenny descended the stairs.
"Well, if you want in on a secret, there are a few DVD movies on the left shelf in my conference room.
Big-screen-movie-night is all-accessible, if you get bored."
Now she understood Gibbs's message.
"Thanks. But Jethro told me not to stay up late watching movies." She looked back at the plasma, shaking her head in amazed disbelief before turning back to the director. "I swear he must be psychic."
Jen just nodded, smiled a bit and stepped into the elevator.
Joey shuffled over to the window and stared out into the darkness, fingering the iPod in her pocket. Gingerly inserting the buds into her ears she flipped to Evanescence. This was her, embracing her own sorrow. She hated being alone – and this sadness came along whenever she was. The scene outside was all too familiar – dark, and cold, and empty in soul, devoid of power and solace.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Jethro Gibbs and team arrived back at the office at around midnight. Gibbs glanced at his watch in frustration for being later than he said he would be. The term paper was on his desk, as requested. He skimmed it – everything looked good. Tony, out of curiosity, went to see if Abby had left yet. Sure enough, the lab was empty and her office lights were off. Joey was nowhere to be found. Tony paced back into the bullpen just as McGee and Ziva were gathering their things and calling it a night. They took the elevator together and left.
"Hey. Boss..." Tony came and stood beside Gibbs, who was studying a timeline on the plasma.
"It's late, Tony. Go home." Gibbs interjected without meeting his eyes.
"Sure, Boss. But Joey's not in Abby's office. Abby left already."
Gibbs tossed the screen remote down on McGee's desk and went to check. When he came striding back he asked Tony if Ducky was still in the building. Tony replied in the affirmative, pretty sure that the good doctor hadn't left yet.
"Yea – Palmer said they were swamped with reports, so he probably stuck around."
Just as Gibbs was pivoting to head down to the morgue, Dr. Mallard appeared on the other side of McGee's cubicle wall.
"Oh, hello, Jethro – I was just on my way up to see if you had gotten back yet. I think I have something that belongs to you." Duck finished with a polished grin at the pair of confused men, who proceeded to follow him down to the M.E.'s dungeon.
The sliding doors heaved open as the doctor approached and flicked on the fluorescent lights. He strode over to the second metal table in the row, where a small person lay covered in one of the green, sterile blankets typically used to cover up dead victims. Ducky stood on one side of the cold table while Tony and Gibbs approached from the other. Gently pulling the blanket off of the slowly undulating lump, Ducky revealed Joey's disheveled neck-length brown hair and upper torso. She was lying on her stomach, with her arms crossed under her head to serve as a pillow. Gibbs nodded to Ducky, who traipsed over to the coat rack by his desk and proceeded to gather his things to leave.
"Tomorrow, Jethro, let us hope I have more on the victim for you." Ducky stated as he left. "Good night, Tony."
"Night, Duck." They replied in unison.
"Go home, DiNozzo – get some rest. Good work today." Gibbs absentmindedly rubbed his daughter's back as he said good-bye to his senior agent and watched him leave.
"Night, Boss. See you tomorrow."
"Bright and early, DiNozzo."
"Yes, Boss."
After the doors had closed and everything was silent for a few minutes, the revelation that he and Joey were the only ones in the department still in the building struck him and he realized how very late it was. He gave the girl a light shake to rouse her, but she was facing away from him and did not want to wake up.
"Mmm... five more minutes."
He sighed.
"Come on, Jo. It's late. Gotta go home."
"You know," she mumbled, "these tables are really uncomfortable."
Gibbs landed a light smack on the back of her head. She smiled and chuckled quietly. "Just making sure it was you behind me, Jethro."
"Good to know. And, Duck's patients have never complained." Gibbs retaliated with wit and helped her sit up, brushing her bangs back out of her face.
"Number one – I'm not one of Duck's patients. Two – Duck's patients are...well.... dead." She grinned and melted into his welcoming embrace, wrapping her arms around his middle and inhaling the smell of wet night air and sawdust. Her favorite. Gibbs smoothed back her hair and rubbed her head and back affectionately. She relaxed and tried to shrug the coat of exhaustion off her shoulders, but Gibbs lifted her in his arms and she felt the sensation of sleep tumbling back, closing her eyes as he walked out of the dungeon, slapping the light switch and leaving the room in darkness.
The nineteen-hour day was over, finally. Time to go home.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
The sun didn't rise the next day – instead, a bowlful of dark grey clouds was left strewn across the sky as if by some invisible entity who hadn't cared enough after raging over the heavens to clean up his mess. The rain fell in a soft downpour that drenched the streets and the people moving around outside, hopping into and out of taxis to get to work. Joey stirred in her bed, rolling from her stomach to her back and shifting to a more comfortable position without waking. The room was unusual in the effect that it was organized and methodically neat – not typical for the residence of an eleven-year-old. It was perfectly square in shape – 14' by 14.' The entry door was in the center of the south wall, and a smaller door by the corner of the south and east walls led to a small bathroom. The walls were white, the floors were wooden – the furniture wasn't anything fancy – contemporary in style – just a twin-sized, metal frame bed, a desk, the one window in the center of the north wall, a nightstand on either side of the bed, and a large, wall-sized bookshelf (complete with ladder) adorned the room.
Joey had always loved books – not so much for the experience of reading, but the wonderful smell of new paper, the crisp noise both old and new binding made when you opened such a book, the illustrations, the diagrams and schematics . It was like - according to her description of this ultimatum – "waking up and watching Saturday morning cartoons, except that the pictures don't move." Joey was never one to think about things ahead of actually doing them, which tended to get her into trouble, but it was nice to know that she understood the value of living in the moment. She valued things for what unique qualities they had, not how they were viewed on an everyday basis. Books, for instance, aren't just the source of man's knowledge. They, in just their sole existence, can bring happiness, too.
Gibbs quietly opened the door to Joey's room and stepped over to her sleeping form on the bed. Sitting down, he finished buttoning his dark red shirt and caressed the girl's face. She mumbled something inaudible and rubbed her cheek with the back of her arm, feeling soft cottony pajamas she subconsciously figured Gibbs's must have redressed her in when they got home last night. She squinted, opening her eyes blearily.
"Did I sleep on one of Duck's dead-man tables last night, or did I dream that?" she whispered faintly.
"Yep, you did." Gibbs seemed amused.
"Oh. I remember throwing spit wads at Tim's head. Did I dream that?" She was still half-asleep, not realizing her obvious confession until Gibbs leaned over her, placing one hand on either side of her on the bed to prop himself up.
"I don't know, Joey. Did it?"
She smiled and looked up at him. "Maybe I did dream that...."
Her godfather laughed mildly and straightened his back, rolling his neck.
"Get up. Get dressed. There's someone downstairs you should meet." He stated monotonously as he raised himself up to leave the room.
"Who?" Joey propped herself up on her forearms and scrutinized Gibbs, but he just nodded towards her dresser and left. Sighing and grumbling to herself she changed out of her stark-white too-big pajamas into dark-denim jeans, a black knit sleeveless undershirt, one orange long-sleeve thermal knit shirt and a jet-black t-shirt for good measure. And, of course, she slipped on her trusty, nicely broken-in grey all-stars. Yawning and shuffling out into the hallway Joey slipped downstairs and into the kitchen for a glass of milk. Opening the fridge she basked for a moment in the cool air that flooded out, then grabbed the milk. Turning on the spot she kicked the door shut and looked up. Gibbs was at the bar, and there was a woman. Joey skimmed her over – only slightly elderly, glasses, and one of those looks that said very plainly that there was a disconnection between Joey and this woman, who she was fiercely hoping wasn't...
"Joey, this is Ms. Whipple – your babysitter." Gibbs interceded on her wistful thinking. She didn't answer, just stepped over to the cabinet and grabbed a glass, pouring herself some milk. Gibbs's cell phone rang.
"Yea, Gibbs." he responded.
"We got a AFIS hit on a print from the gun – led us back one Michael Warner. We also got an address-" Tony buzzed.
"Take Ziva and McGee. I'll meet you there." Gibbs snapped the phone shut and grabbed his jacket.
Joey gulped down what was left of her milk and ran past Ms. Whipple, catching up with Gibbs just before he slipped outside.
"Can you be swayed on this, Jethro?" she attempted to negotiate. He leaned over and planted a light kiss on her forehead.
He shook his head, and then he walked out.
TBC
1 Which involved a tiny cherry bomb being added as an ingredient in one of Abby's Caff-Pow drinks. It was a messy affair that ended in Abby covered in her favorite soda, (planning her reprisal) Tony laughing and Joey not sitting for about a week afterward. More or less, this event is significant because it depicts the first ever real prank Joey pulled, and her induction into the ever-growing creativity-laced world of tricks.
2 Joey has had a piqued interest in Jethro's line of work ever since he first had to drag her along to work with him.
3 Like I said. Reprisal.
Author's Chapter Notes:
If you haven't read my first story - The Cherry Bomb Incident - please read that first. This is the continuation of the adventures of my character, Joey. She is eleven at the time of this story.