Waking up beside someone was a new experience for Tony as he had never wanted anything beside sex from his conquests. Fuck and then leave them behind with a smile. The women and men he dated wanted the same so there were no hard feelings involved.
Yesterday morning didn’t count, he hadn’t been able to appreciate it with his little monster playing the alarm clock from hell. Today he could enjoy every nuance. He didn’t know what had woken him, maybe it had been the unfamiliar fall of light against his face. The bed in his apartment was carefully positioned to avoid just that happening on the rare mornings when he could sleep in. Maybe it had been the slight movement of air. They had opened the windows to air the room last night and instead of closing the curtains Jethro had opted to use the shutters.
Tony had been surprised that the shutters actually worked, most houses in DC only used them as decorative elements. And they were made out of wood and actually looked handcrafted. Of course Tony had given in to his innate nosiness and asked about it while knocking with his knuckles against the dark green painted wood. Gibbs had answered "Stephanie" and left it there. Tony could guess the rest. Wife number four had likely tried to give the house her personal touch by adding the shutters and Gibbs had point blank refused to install something that couldn't be used and was of poor quality.
It had to be still pretty early, judging by the pink quality of the light flooding the room through the cracks in the shutters and the position of the sun. Tony blinked the last vestiges of sleep out of his eyes and stretched lazily. He could think of no reason to get up soon and a lot to stay in bed and luxuriate. His body was relaxed and pleasantly sore, a welcome reminder of what happened last night. The sound of regular, deep breathing and the sound of skin moving against sheets drew Tony’s attention towards his companion. He turned his head, the opportunity to observe a sleeping Jethro was too good to pass up.
It took Tony a moment to register that Jethro wasn't sleeping and, in fact, Tony was the one being observed. Half closed blue eyes were steadily looking at him. Tony was relieved to see that their expression was calm with maybe a hint of sheepish embarrassment.
"You OK?" Jethro asked gruffly, his voice still rough from sleep.
"Huh?" Of course he was OK, what a stupid question.
"You winced."
Tony rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure he'd made his point loud and clear last night. Trust, but verify. Typically stubborn as a mule Gibbs who exercised his own rules to the extreme. Yeah, he was sore in uncomfortable places but Tony'd had worse in the aftermath of a lot of their cases for much less pleasant reasons. Hell, he had worse after nearly every sparing session with his bastard boss. What a morning for Gibbs to exercise his rarely seen gentlemanly side. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question? How’s the knee?" Tony deftly steered the conversation in a safer direction.
Jethro sat up, pushed his pillow into a more pleasing shape and leaned against it before he answered. "Better."
Which was a long way off from well, but their physical wounds would heal. The emotional ones were harder to detect. Neither man asked the other if there were any regrets. Tony doubted that his lover would have remained in bed with him if there were too many. Tony reached across the space separating them and stroked over the contours of Jethro’s lips with his fingertips, his version of a good morning kiss. Contently lazy as he was now, the younger man saw no reason to move, even to brush his teeth. He smiled as his fingers were nibbled on.
"Brace yourself." Gibbs cautioned and shifted a little bit higher up his improvised backrest.
"Huh?"
The gray haired man pointed with his chin in direction of the bedroom door which was promptly flung open. A girl shaped torpedo sped up to the bed and impacted between the two men. Tony wondered how she could have that much energy so early in the morning. That couldn’t be natural.
‘You are already awake! I wanted to surprise you again.’ Sam pointedly ignored the older man and babbled excitedly at her dad who had serious difficulties concentrating on her signs before his first cup of coffee. He wasn’t an addict like Jethro but he still appreciated the kick start a good cuppa could give him.
‘I’m half awake, Pumpkin, half. And it’s oh-five-twenty in the morning, don’t tell me you are starving to death again, like yesterday?’
The DiNozzo pout of champions appeared on Sam's face. She raised her hands, no doubt to explain in great detail why she could indeed be hungry and why he was silly asking her such a question, but stilled in the middle of her first sign. A steep line formed between her eyebrows. Sam’s eyes homed in on the circular hickey on his neck. One of Tony’s hands drifted up to cover the little mark and he sought Jethro’s eyes with his own.
Sam whirled around and took in Gibbs’ appearance with narrowed eyes. They had put on pajama bottoms and T-shirts so most of yesterday’s fallout from chasing Lindau was hidden safely under cotton but there were still scratches on his arms and hands. Whatever conclusion she had drawn, it had to be the wrong one because Sam started to growl at Jethro. ‘You fought!’
Tony hastily slung one arm around her middle and exchanged position with her by heaving her over his body, rolling around and then scrambling in a rather undignified way up the bed until his upper body rested against the carved wooden headboard. This way his little spitfire of a daughter could see and converse with both adults. And Tony was between her and Jethro.
"We didn’t fight against each other." Jethro signed and said. "I found the man who tried to kidnap you and he resisted arrest."
Sam gnawed at her lower lip, clearly not believing him completely. ‘That-‘ a finger stabbed accusingly in direction of the bruise on her dad’s neck, ‘wasn’t there yesterday. Dad stayed here and didn’t go with you. I am not stupid.’ She pointed out and her glowering became more intense.
Oh God. Tony had been kind of smug about the marks his lover had left on his skin but now he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor. He had no idea whatsoever how to respond to this situation. Lying to your child was bad policy, he didn’t need to be father of the year material to know that, but what to say instead? ‘Jethro sucked on that spot log enough so that blood rose to the surface of my skin and created what we call a hickey’ was out. Sam was far too young for the birds and the bees. To young, and her poor tortured father needed at least ten to twenty more years to learn the correct signs for the birds and the bees, beginning with hickey. Spelling it out was out. No way, no how. Tony turned his head and his eyes begged his lover to do something.
‘You are telling me lies; you fought.’ Sam repeated. Since she hadn’t warmed up to Jethro completely, it wasn’t clear if she was disturbed by the thought of them fighting in general or just about her dad being hurt.
"No, we didn’t. Look at the evidence like an investigator would." Gibbs held out his arm and the scratches on it for inspection. "Surely you’ve seen something like this on your own skin after playing outside. And we know that you get into fights with other kids, don’t we? These are the wrong shape to have been caused by fingernails or fists but bushes would and did leave such marks. All my injuries were the result of chasing after and catching the criminal that tried to hurt you."
Sam studied the offered arm from a safe distance, her fingers fluttered over her own cheek, maybe in remembrance. The nod she finally deigned to give them was reluctant and slow. Then her eyes shifted back to her dad's neck.
No, his little girl wasn’t stupid at all and from the smug look Gibbs sent him there was no more help coming from that direction. Tony glared at his pointedly silent partner. How nice of Jethro to leave the more difficult half of the explanation to him, knowing that Tony had absolutely no experience with something like this. It was that line of thought that finally gave him a faint clue. He wasn’t the first hapless parent faced with this dilemma. "Sam, have you ever seen a mark like the one on my neck on your mom or Chris?" Tony hoped that his question wouldn’t stir up bad memories but he was desperate and he wanted to avoid her old family becoming a taboo theme.
Sam bristled like an angry cat, her signs fast and sharp. ‘Chris would never hurt mom, they didn’t fight!’
That was something Tony doubted very much. Every couple had spats, the better ones just made sure to keep it away from the kids. Additionally- Tony stilled and ran her answer through his head. Didn’t he recognize her tactics from somewhere? "I believe you, Chris sounds like a very nice man who wouldn’t do that." He soothed. "But Sam, that’s not what I asked. Don’t try to avoid my question."
Out of the girl’s line of sight Jethro put one of his hands on Tony’s hip and left it there as a warm presence.
The pout was back on Sam’s lips. It was a good thing that Tony was immune to his own weapons.
"Sam?"
‘Chris had one that looked like that. Here.’ She pointed at her chest, above her heart. ‘I saw it when we went swimming last summer.’
"And, did you ask him how he got it?" Maybe he would be able to build on an established authority’s take on the issue. Tony prayed for lady Luck to smile on him in this because Gibbs was no help at all. The bastard was visibly content to play spectator and remain on the sidelines.
‘Chris said I should ask mom. And Mommy said that it has to do with parent-time and it’s a grown-up thing.’
"It is a grown-up thing." Jethro threw in and earned himself another glower from Sam for his trouble.
On second thought, it might be indeed better for everyone if Tony was the one to try and sort this out. Tony hastily steered the conversation back on track. "What’s parent-time?"
Sam blinked at him and tilted her head in astonishment about his ignorance.
"Hey, grant me some slack, Princess, I am new at this!" Tony grinned widely and wriggled his toes, shifted his leg to tickle her with them to distract her a little bit.
‘How can you not know what parent-time is? There’s all kinds of ‘times’, with different people ‘cause nobody likes the same things. There’s family time, when we were all together, doing something.’ Sam sighed and looked at the lamp on the nightstand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, then she shook her head, sniffled once and soldiered on, intent on educating her father. ‘Play time and girl time. For female stuff ‘no male would be caught dead doing’ like painting our toenails. Time with Chris doing things mom didn’t want to do. And parent-time when they did things together without me, sometimes they wanted to go to places I wouldn’t like. Things like that.’ Sam stilled and pulled her legs to her chest, with the NIS shirt stretching over them, creating a little tent with her toes peeking out under the hem.
‘Things no male would be caught dead doing’ oh yes. And there were worse things than painting toenails. Tony might be in a homosexual relationship but, no matter what some idiots thought, that didn’t mean that he would develop the need to buy frilly stuff anytime soon. That meant Tony would have to speak with Abby because there would be indeed times when female input was needed. Fingers moving on his hip, putting pressure on one of the hidden bruises, brought his attention back to more immediate issues.
"Let’s just say that this." Tony fingered the hickey, "doesn’t hurt at all and it’s a grown-up thing." Another idea occurred to Tony and he had a hard time toning down the relieved beaming smile that threatened to escape. Sam wouldn’t understand his reaction. "Were there any rules you had to follow while your mom and Chris had their parent-time?"
‘Of course. Same as the house rules.’ Sam shrugged her shoulders.
Hah, rules. Gibbs was likely very pleased about another DiNozzo being subjected to rules. "Well, tell them to me?"
Her exasperated sigh might be heard from another country. ‘It’s simple, a baby can follow them: Don’t lock doors inside the house, ever. When they are closed, not only halfway, you have to stay out unless there’s an emergency.’
Tony looked at the door, which had been closed until she had flung it open and then back at his daughter. Yep, DiNozzos and following rules only if they wanted to had come back to bite him on his ass. "Well, Jethro is my… partner, like Chris was your mom’s, and I think we will follow your mom’s rules here too." It wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t guessed the gray haired man’s place in his life, Sam was, like she said, not stupid. He sent another glance at the door. How he would enforce the rules was something he would think about later.
Knowing something (and getting it confirmed) didn’t mean Sam had to like it. Her shoulder’s hunched and her eyes looked at Jethro, from his tousled god awful haircut to his long bony feet that stuck out from under the sheet. For a minute she looked as if she wanted to throw a temper tantrum but then she only made a grimace, her head sinking down resignedly.
‘Dad?’
"Yeah?" Tony replied cautiously, steeling himself for another round of trying to reason with a kid.
‘I’m now really, really hungry.’
Tony nearly whimpered with relief. The topic would come up again, he was sure but for now it had been shelved. A hungry daughter was something he could deal with more easily.
He could hear Jethro chuckling on his other side.
And that was something he should deal with in the form of an elbow to the gut á la Caitlin Todd but he would take the moral high ground and manfully ignore Jethro for now, yes, he would.
"I’m a bad cook, can’t make many dishes, but I can make world-class pancakes, would you like some?" Yesterday they had wolfed down some cereal and fruit in their haste to reach the office.
Sam didn’t hesitate, she nodded and licked her lips in anticipation.
"Go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, do it correctly. We’ll meet you downstairs, okay?" Tony instructed.
Her head was bobbing as she made the sign for 'yes’. Then she scrambled off the bed and out the bedroom door.
Tony waited until he could hear her moving in the bathroom before he allowed himself to whimper pathetically and to close his eyes in exaggerated desperation. What a morning after. The next thing he felt were calloused fingers carding through his hair in slow, careful strokes and a hot mouth latching onto the exact spot that had started all the trouble. Jethro didn’t do much, just nibbled a little bit before he retreated and got up as if nothing had happened.
"Up and at 'em, Tony." He repeated his words form last night. "Or she’ll be finished first and barging in here again."
That provoked another whimper, but it spurred Tony to roll out of the comfy bed. Jethro was standing in the doorway with a peculiar expression on his face, half wistful, half amused.
"What?" Tony groaned.
"Not bad, DiNozzo."
"Yes, well. You could have helped."
Jethro shook his head, his mouth quirked upwards in amusement. "Don’t think so. You know my track record with women. Never was good at explaining things to them, no matter their age."
Hah! As if that was a valid argument. "Doesn’t matter, next time something like this comes up, it's your turn."
.-#-.
The morning was spent in relative silence by two of the three occupants of the house. Tony's pancakes were indeed as good as he had promised and full mouths and busy hands dominated the scene at first. Sam was eying the adults thoughtfully and Gibbs would take any bet that not all of what went on behind her forehead was favorable. Tony, as soon as his hunger had been stilled, was babbling about anything and everything he read in the newspaper and the older man let the noise wash over him without paying much attention to what was said. The chatter was comfortingly familiar.
Normally he would have been thankful for the opportunity to be alone with father and daughter but Gibbs couldn't shake the feeling of urgency and the irritation of wasting time. A suspect was waiting, ready to be broken. There were still gaps to be filled, despite Lindau being neutralized. Having to wait for strangers to get their asses to DC was maddening. Any other day Gibbs would retreat into his basement to silence his restlessness with the soothing task of building something by hand.
Today he couldn't bring himself to let Tony and Sam out of his sight, not while the DiNozzos made a big production out of cleaning and drying their breakfast utensils, not later when they settled in front of his old TV to watch a classic Disney movie, Aladdin. Gibbs settled into one corner of the couch.
Tony regularly turned his head to face him, eyes full of shadows and questions he didn’t voice aloud before concentrating on the animated movie again, his hands and mouth sprouting little details and tidbits of information about it. As soon as they had left the bedroom reality had asserted itself and the hours spent together felt unreal. They had taken turns in the bathroom before hurrying down to the waiting child and somehow there hadn’t been any time to discuss the case or what would happen today.
Sam was, in addition to what was going on in her head, picking up on the adults' restless mood and it was making her more gloomy. Everyone was happy when it was finally noon and they readied themselves to leave the house and drive to the Navy Yard.
Gibbs brushed over Tony's hands with his fingertips as they put on their coats and both men relaxed a little bit with the contact.
The government approved representatives turned out to be three Air Force Officers and, for whatever hair-brained reason known to only God and some desk jockey at the Pentagon, an Air Force General. Apparently he was involved because Sergeant Peltier had served on his base and the other three had been assigned to check out the Peltier's things for clues. Vance's pointed stare and the twitch of his mouth made it clear that he wanted his Agents to be polite to the visitors, even if he himself wasn't happy about their presence. Fly Boys interfering in Marine matters were never welcome.
One of the three Officers directed DiNozzo and his daughter aside and into one of the conference rooms. The other three, followed by a crisply polite looking Vance and an irritated Gibbs, moved on to the interrogation. As the two officers entered the room, the General hung back and stared at the Director and his Agent. The General shaped obstacle and his boss' hand on his arm prevented Gibbs from storming in after the officers.
Gibbs gnashed his teeth when Vance informed him that he would not be allowed to question Lindau or even be in the same room with him, apparently he didn't have high enough clearance, which was a joke. The former marine had taken part in enough confidential operations in the service and later as a NCIS operative. What the hell could need a higher clearance than investigating Presidential matters? Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face and Vance, probably fearing Gibbs would vent his anger in front of the General, hissed at him under his breath.
"It has been hard enough to get permission for us to witness this interrogation! Suck it up."
The Director needn't have used a verbal command. Apart from when he was undercover and it would clash with his role, Gibbs never had a problem making his displeasure known, but he wouldn't defy the director openly in front of outsiders. It wouldn't reflect well on him or the agency.
Gibbs glowered at the director and then entered the observation room. General Landry spared him a polite nod and then the three men concentrated on the happenings in the other room.
Lindau had been placed on one side of the table with the Officers facing him. He looked a little bit worse for wear from the fight yesterday, Gibbs noted with pleasure. His feet lacked shoes and were heavily bandaged and then wrapped in plastic covers to prevent them getting dirty and wet.
It was deeply frustrating to watch through the window without being able to interfere in any way. The officer they sent to do Gibbs' job, damn it, a Major Harriman, wasn't incompetent per se. He asked all the right questions and had the proper attitude, firm and uncompromising, not that the subject gave him obvious problems, but he wasn't stellar either and that was simply not good enough.
For all outward appearances Lindau was cooperating fully. He sat there with his back picture perfect straight, his eyes forward and his voice expressionless as he answered every question that was asked.
The interrogator did the usual, state a question, dig deeper, go on and come back later again and again to try and find different angles. Yes, he had been responsible for the crash that killed the Peltiers. Yes, he had tried to kidnap Sempera Peltier.
Gibbs got more tense and rigid with every question asked and answered and didn't take his eyes away from Lindau's face for a second to add his own opinion to the comments Vance and Landry made.
"No, I didn't do it to get revenge, even if I still feel that Sergeant Peltier has done me wrong, I did it because I know my duty and I had to eliminate a threat to the nation. Christoper Peltier has been weakening our defenses against-"
"Stop. I know you feel loyal to the program, please think about what you say. So you staged the accident to eliminate the Sergeant. Why did you try to kidnap his daughter. Surely she is too young to be of interest to you, apart from revenge?"
Lindau raised his chin, a pleased smile on his lips when the Officer mentioned his dedication to the cause. It disappeared again with the mention of revenge.
There it was again. Whenever Lindau tried to elaborate why his former commanding officer was a threat, why his getting Lindau thrown out showed that his decisions couldn’t be trusted, he had to be stopped with every means possible, Harriman made him shut up and concentrate on other aspects. Gibbs' lips were pressed together so fiercely that they weren't visible anymore. The outsiders could shove their secrets up their asses as far as he was concerned, it interrupted the flow of the questioning.
Lindau only showed strong emotions when discussing the reasons for his actions. He leaned forward beseechingly, his eyes glittering and fixated on the faces of the two Officers facing him, willing them to understand his point of view, to agree with him. His disappointment with their lack of sympathy reached a peak whenever Sam was mentioned. Apparently kidnapping a little girl with the plan to question her about how much her step-dad had told her about his job was completely reasonable. He also denied that there were any accomplices involved, it had been his scheme, and his alone. The encounter in front of Sempera Peltier's school the day she was suspended? Just a coincidence, he had been scouting the surroundings. When questioned if he knew anyone with the name Coultier, Lindau blinked and looked clueless.
The more time went by, the more the delusional soldier's stubbornness grew until his answers were so clipped that they could have cut glass. Finally Harriman turned around and nodded to the unseen spectators. Then he and his colleague stood up to lead Lindau out of the room.
Landry sighed. "Well, that’s that. At least it is over now. Such a sad thing, but it could have been worse."
Gibbs snorted and turned around.
The General’s bushy eyebrows were drawn together sorrowfully and he was shaking his head. "We have permission to take him with us until he can be tried at a closed court martial. He will be securely locked away, don’t you worry, and we will see to it that he will get professional help."
"Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think that he is telling the truth." Gibbs never had a lot of faith in the ability of the brass to make sensible decisions but he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing here. Surely they wouldn’t let it go just because it was convenient?
General Landry hadn’t expected any opposition. His sad grandfatherly expression changed into one of startled irritation and after he stared at the angry agent for a moment, evaluating Gibbs’ unyielding body language, he turned to the director, seeking support. "The perpetrator has been caught, he confessed. There isn’t more we can do."
Vance raised an eyebrow and motioned Gibbs to state his concerns.
"What about accomplices?" Gibbs asked.
Landry impatiently tugged at his sleeve and straighten it. "You heard the man, he was acting on his own."
‘Yeah, and since when does it make sense to take a nut-job at his word?’ were the words that lay on the experienced agent’s tongue but he refrained from voicing them out loud. Neither the tone nor the content would go over well but logic might. "Sir, you saw the recording of the security feed from the camera on the school’s entrance. Both front doors opened nearly at the same time, there was someone with him in the car."
But Landry obviously didn’t want to listen, he was shaking his head and stepping in direction of the door, not interested in a discussion. "You are seeing problems were there aren’t any. Lindau said that he opened it to call the girl over. He doesn’t have close friends and he doesn’t have the financial means to hire mercenaries. Let it go."
Vance, in a surprising show of support for his agent, intervened at this point. "General, I would be very happy if this was indeed the end, but Special Agent Gibbs is one of my best men and a superior interrogator and investigator, his instincts are rarely wrong. If he says he has doubts, I believe him. Surely it wouldn’t be too much effort to dig a little deeper."
"Gentlemen, he confessed. We didn’t find anything incriminating in his things, we didn’t find anything worrisome in the Peltiers’ things. Sometimes an insane man is just that, insane and not a major player. My people will take this mess off your hands and deal with all the necessary red tape as well. All you have to do is send a copy of your reports to Major Harriman within this week and forget this ever happened. Have a nice day." And with that and under the gimlet stare of Gibbs, he hurried out of the room.
Vance waited for the door to close again before he questioned his agent. "Gibbs, how sure are you that he hasn’t acted on his own?"
"Very. I should have been involved in the interrogation. Harriman had the wrong perspective He treated Lindau like a soldier who has snapped."
"He is a soldier who has snapped." Vance said neutrally.
"Yeah, but you have to consider the inside perspective. Lindau sees himself as a dutiful marine on an important mission, who has been captured by the enemy." As much as he sometimes clashed with the director and his more politically inclined mindset, Gibbs had never underestimated the intelligence of the other man.
Vance took the time to think over Gibbs’ words and their implications. His ever present toothpick was shoved to the other corner of his mouth. "A mission that isn’t over yet. He has to protect his goals, even if he has to sacrifice himself as long as it gives his team the time to fulfill the objective."
Gibbs nodded and waited for Vance’s verdict. He felt like he was reliving the Cape Fear fiasco again, and he dearly hoped that this director would be more supportive than the last one. It wasn’t a PR disaster this time, but it seemed as if the safety of a underage dependent was worth less than the possibility that an investigation might drag one of the military’s precious secrets to light.
"The command to close the case will come soon and from a very high office. I won't be able to defy it openly, neither will you or your team. I don’t want to explain to SecNav why I can’t seem to control my best team. But if you’re able to find new, solid leads on your own time and without aggravating the watchdogs, I'll back you." Vance removed his toothpick. "Just be careful, too much attention might be more dangerous for DiNozzo’s daughter than the kidnappers."
Gibbs’ eyes glittered with determination. "Both DiNozzos will stay with me until further notice and I suggest that my team be put on cold case rotation. We’ve had a string of difficult cases and not much down time for weeks."
Vance inclined his head. "Of course."
Not being called out and instead being on desk work would buy them a lot of time. Gibbs turned around and internally prepared himself to explain the situation to Tony. That would be one furious father.
"Agent Gibbs!" the breathless shout came from an Agent who was a member of one of the secondary teams. The young man hastened down the corridor. "Please, you have to calm DiNozzo down before he strangles the visiting Officer!"
That didn’t sound good. Seems as if Tony was already beyond furious. Gibbs followed the agent. "What happened?"
"Uhm." The agent nervously pointed in direction of the conference rooms. "I don’t know, but he was waiting outside room two and suddenly there was this crash and..."
Gibbs grunted and lengthened his stride. It would be easier to find out for himself.
Ducky was awaiting them outside the room, he held Sam against his side and there were a lot of curiously under worked NCIS personnel lurking around, some more openly watching what was going on than others. Most of them suddenly found that they had other places to be when they saw Gibbs coming, until only the M.E and Ziva David were waiting for him. Gibbs could hear raised voices drifting out of the open doorway, one of them unmistakeably Tony’s.
Sam hadn’t seen him coming, she was shaking and pressing her face against the doctor’s side.
"Ducky."
"Jethro. It seems as if Sempera took exception to strangers touching her dead parent’s things and she decided to disabuse the poor officer of his notions that her disability means that she cannot express herself loudly." Ducky smiled thinly and stroked the child's shoulders. "There were things thrown and even if she cannot hear, there is nothing wrong with the volume of her voice in general. I fear that he rather regretted his insistence of speaking with her without her father present and our dear Anthony was in turn quite annoyed about him upsetting Sempera."
Both men winced when the distinct sound of a palm violently meeting the surface of a table reached them. "Oh shut up already!" They could hear Tony bellow. "Where did you get your degree in child psychology? Oh, wait, it must have been the same place that swindled you on common sense! Of course she's upset! And no, you won't get to finish your interview anytime soon. Try never!"
Vance had followed at a more sedate pace and was now eying the open doorway with trepidation. "Gibbs, go in and calm him down."
Gibbs didn't move. They could always play the distressed father card if someone raised a stink about DiNozzo insulting the idiot. "He won't do too much damage. Hey, I could tell him Landry's decision right now, wanna stay and watch that explosion?" He didn’t wait for an answer and tentatively reached for Sam, gaining her attention by touching her arm. She looked up at him and after hesitating for a moment she let go of Ducky and placed her hand in his. The girl was hiccuping and red in the face but judging by the lack of tears and the angry cast of her mouth she seemed to be more furious than sad. Sam wasn’t using his body to hide, but her fingers clutched his own fiercely.
‘You OK?’ Gibbs signed one handed.
Sam nodded and both turned their attention to the two quarreling adults in the other room. The spectacle of DiNozzo defending his lone chick was quite entertaining and if the younger man let off some steam in the process, it was even better.
Minutes went by until the M.E decided that enough was enough. "Jethro, don’t you think that this is bad enough without aggravating people needlessly?" Ducky’s gentle admonishment made Gibbs roll his eyes in exasperation but the older man had a point, they were wasting time.
"Oh, for- .DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted.
"Boss?" His second in command stuck his head out of the conference room. DiNozzo’s normally friendly green eyes were glittering in glorious fury and he held his chin at an angle that telegraphed his displeasure quite clearly. The source of his ire could be glimpsed behind him, a slim middle aged man in a smartly pressed uniform, clutching a file in one hand and waving it commandingly in their direction.
"Leave him alone." Gibbs commanded. " We’ve got more important things to do." Like going over all the evidence they had with a fine-toothed comb before everything disappeared into a government vault.
His agent took a deep breath and searched his supervisor's face for clues. Whatever he saw there made him step out of the doorway and close the door from the outside, despite the spluttered protestations of the visiting officer.
"On it, Boss."
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