Slipping â" chapter two.
The bullpen was quiet. It was nearly midnight, and the team was not any closer to finding Petty Officer Dunner. Gibbs slipped off his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. Looking into a screen was not something he enjoyed doing. It felt futile, although he knew that wasnât true. Whenever children were involved he wanted to get out there, roam the streets, hunt the bastards down.
He knew that wasnât what needed to be done. Looking up, his attention once again wandered to his second in command. Tony had regained some of his composure, working steadily in tracing down the victimsâ movements the last few days. He was back from interviewing Mrs Dunnerâs best friend, a Louise McLeod.
Walking over to Tony, he noticed that Tony seemed to steel himself. Straightening his back and putting on what Gibbs had learned was his âgame faceâ, the carefree happy look that didnât reach his eyes tonight.
âWhat have we got so far, Tony?â Gibbs asked, leaning against Tonyâs desk.
âThe Dunners were working through some marital problems, according to Ms McLeod. She had met another man, and was considering leaving her husband. Apparently, things hadnât been going to well the last two years. She wouldnât tell Louise who he was; just that he was someone sheâd known in high school and met at a reunion about six months ago. Weâve also recovered about a hundred deleted emails from her laptop. It looks like sheâs getting increasingly worried her husband would find out about the affair, apparently he was checking up on her, calling her when she was visiting girlfriends and so onâ.
Ziva had joined them by Tonyâs desk. McGee was holding a file in his hand, reading through it as he approached the rest of the group.
âBoss, Iâve gone through her cell phone recordsâ, McGee interjected. âSheâs been receiving phone calls from someone sheâs only listed as Matt. His full name is Matt Walters, and he lives in Pyle Rd, Bethesda â.
He turned around and brought up Walterâs driverâs licence on the plasma screen.
âThe phone calls started about five months ago, and have increased in frequency to between five and ten per day in the last month.â
He moved over to retrieve a file from Gibbsâ desk, losing his tie as he turned around to face the rest of the team again.
âHe is a lawyer with a local law firm; Cohen, Blass and Warren. According to Mr Asher, an associate with the firm he failed to show up for work after meeting with a client this morning. Apparently, Walter usually works Saturdays, but it being the weekend, Asher wasnât overly concerned. Iâll check his phone record and see if I can find out who he was meeting.â McGee returned to his desk only to be stopped by Gibbs.
âMcGee, Ziva, pay Walter a visit. See what you can find out about his relationship with Mrs Dunner. I also need to know if his failing to show up for work is related to this case.â
McGee grabbed the keys with an âIâm driving,â and they were gone.
âTony, youâre with me,â Gibbs said, heading for the elevator. He wanted to check in with Ducky and Abby, before calling it a night. Tony just nodded and fell in step behind him, not asking why he was needed. The ride down was quiet, Tony just leaning into the wall, looking into space.
Gibbs shook off his uneasiness, something was clearly going on with Tony, but he had to deal with that at another time. He sighed inwardly, wishing he knew what was troubling the younger man. Gibbs wished he were the one who could smooth Tonyâs slightly furrowed brow, and massage away the tension he could see had set in his shoulders. He knew that was not going to happen, heâd long ago given up hope that anything would happen between him and Tony.
âHey,â he said quietly, reaching out to lightly squeeze Tonyâs upper arm, âyou with me?â
âWhatâŚuhâŚyeah, Boss, sorry.â Tony straightened up and headed out the door. Duckyâs lab was silent, apart from the older doctor who was talking to little Michelle Dunner.
âThere..,â he said, covering the girl with a white sheet, only her face showing. âI knew a little girl named Michelle once. We used to raid old Mrs Pickeringâs garden for strawberries and apples. She was not too pleased when she caught us; weâd crawled through her precious flowerbed to go unnoticed,â he chuckled. âShe made me cut her lawn for the rest of the summer!â
He looked up, noticing their presence in his lab.
âJethro, Tony,â he greeted them, eyes lingering just a fraction longer on than usual on Tony. Gibbs wasnât sure whether he liked he was not the only one who noticed something was off with Tony.
âThey both died instantly, from a single gun shot to the head,â he pointed to the entry and exit wounds on both victims. âAs I suggested at the Dunner house today, the whole crime scene had a staged feel to it. There was no sign of a struggle, no defensive wounds on either victim.â He lifted up the motherâs hand, turning it palm side up. âNo scratches or broken nails to indicate she was trying to prevent what was happening.â He placed the hand carefully back down. âWhen we removed her clothing we discovered the dress was in fact put on inside out, suggesting she didnât do it herself. The presence of flowers in both victimsâ hands also suggests staging. They were probably added by the killer after he shot them.â
âWhy would he do that? Gibbs asked, âWhy go through all that trouble?â
âRemorse, maybe. He could have been trying to create an image of the way he saw his family, the way he wanted it to be, rather than how it actually was. Iâm afraid we wonât know until you bring him in for questioning.â
The lab doors swooshed open and Abby sailed through, moving remarkably fast on her platform boots.
âI have the results on the tox screen,â she exclaimed, ponytail flopping as she approached the small group gathered around the autopsy table. âI found high levels of tranquillisers in both blood samples. They would have been unconscious when he shot them.â
âSmall mercies,â Ducky mumbled, as they wheeled the two bodies over to the cooler.
******
âLetâs call it a night,â Gibbs ordered. âWeâll meet here tomorrow at 0700 unless Metro police pick up Dunner over night. DiNozzo, youâre with me.â
âWhere are we going, Boss? You need to visit the crime scene again?â Tony asked as he pulled on his coat and grabbed his backpack.
âIâm taking you home, DiNozzo,â he replied, âcome on, itâs late and Iâd like to get in bed before dawn.â
âI can get a cab, Boss, you donât have to drive me home, itâs totally out of your way andâŚâ
âHey, Tony, I said Iâm taking you home, to my place. Youâre staying with me tonight.â Gibbs tone made it clear this was not up for discussion.
âButâŚwhyâŚok, Boss,â Tony resigned. He knew a loosing battle when he saw one. Not that he would give up a chance to spend the night with Gibbs, he just didnât know if he was up for it tonight.
******
The drive home was silent, only Tonyâs soft snoring breaking the silence. Traffic was light this time of day, as it had been when they drove into work this morning. Gibbs found he liked this, going into to work and driving home with Tony. He pulled into his driveway, turning to look at Tony who had slumped sideways in the passenger seat. Tony looked peaceful in his sleep, younger. Not able to resist, Gibbs brushed an unruly lock of hair away from his forehead, letting silky strands slide through his fingers.
âHey,â he said softly, âwake up, Tony, youâre not sleeping in the car all night.â
Blinking, Tony sat up, looking somewhat confused as to where he was. He turned, green eyes glowing as they met Gibbsâ.
âHey yourself,â he smiled, âWe home yet? I meanâŚâ
âYeah, weâre home, Tony. Get inside, Iâll make us something to eat.â
He unlocked his front door and let Tony in. âYeah, I do lock it sometimes,â he smiled.
âDonât totally trust your reputation as a bad-ass Marine, then,â Tony grinned as he slipped past him. To his surprise it didnât earn him a head slap, just a crooked smile.
âJust make yourself at home, Tony.â
âThanks, BossâŚ..ah, you mind if I have a shower?
âYeah, sure, Iâll find you something to wear,â Gibbs offered, heading into the bedroom to get some sweats. He dug out a faded pair with US Marines running down one leg. They looked like they would be long enough for Tony. Walking into the bathroom, he put out towels and even managed to find a new toothbrush, hidden at the very back in his bathroom cabinet.
âYou got a t-shirt as well?â Tony was leaning against the doorframe, looking rather amused.
âWhat?â
âIâve never seen you quite so domestic before,â he grinned.
âYouâve been here before,â Gibbs pointed out, not quite able to stifle a smile.
âYeah, you stayed most of the time working on the boat, and grunted to me like twice a day.â
Gibbs shook his head, clearly amused by the younger manâs light teasing. âFoodâs ready in twenty,â he said, slipping past Tony.
âThanks, Gibbs.â
******
Looking into his fridge, Gibbs decided an omelette would fit the bill nicely tonight. Quick, easy and not too filling. He put a few slices of bread in the toaster before cracking half a dozen eggs in a glass bowl. Whisking lightly, he briefly wondered what kind of filling Tony preferred.
Deciding he couldnât go wrong with ham and cheese, he quickly finished preparing the food and set he table. He heard the patter of naked feet walking downstairs and poured juice into two tall glasses. âThere, that would have to do.â
It was late, too late to engage in much conversation, but they found themselves discussing Gibbsâ progress on the boat. Tony looked slightly better, with towel-dried hair sticking out in all directions. Gibbsâ fingers were itching to smooth it down, or maybe just to touch. He shook it off, focusing once again on the question Tony had asked.
âYeah, I have finished a boat, DiNozzo, and I will tell you how I get them out. Just not tonight.â
âAnother night, then, Boss,â Tony asked tentatively.
âIâd like that, Tony. Go find something to listen to, he said. âWe need to wind down a bit before bed, otherwise weâll never sleep. Iâll clean up,â he ordered.
He entered the living room a few minutes later, only to find Tony sitting on the floor, his arms holding his legs, head bent down, nodding lightly to the music blaring from the radio. It wasnât his usual jazz, the beat was heavier, pulsating. Tony was singing softly to the chorus;
I got to get away
Feel I got to get away
Oh oh oh yeah
I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah with you yeah yeah
Oh yeah !
âWhere do you want to go, Tony,â he asked quietly, crouching down behind him. âWhere are you flying off to, or maybe flying away from?â
******
Tony was utterly lost in the lyrics when Gibbsâ voice reached him. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore, just the here and now. Just this moment, with Gibbs so close he could feel the heat radiating off the older manâs body and his breath on his neck. He felt something slip inside him. Masks heâd held up so carefully, for so many years, were slipping away, laying him bare, utterly naked.
He turned around and looked into those blue eyes heâd fallen in love with, so long ago.
âYou,â he whispered.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Masks are slipping away as Tony and Gibbs work with the team to solve a double murder.
Chapter End Notes:
Don't own them, wouldn't mind a visit ;)