Gibbs blinked and stared disbelievingly at the closed door. His agent had clearly forgotten all the lectures about leaving his partner without backup in a potentially explosive situation. Gibbs wasn’t counting waiting outside as sufficient help, not at all.
“The rags are in the cupboard over there.“ Ducky pointed and spoke clearly. “Agent Gibbs will be delighted to help you, I am sure.” The last part was directed at Sam, but clearly meant for Gibbs. The quirky medical examiner smiled beatifically. “I will take the chance to assist Mr. Palmer, I fear he still has to learn at lot about the art of- ah well, examining.” Glancing at the girl, he was obviously changing his words to more appropriate vocabulary.
The silver haired agent could be mistaken, but he would have sworn that, in contrast to Tony, his old friend was rather reluctant to leave the room. Sam was clearly not ready to let her one remaining ally go because she darted over to the older man and looking up at him beseechingly, seeking shelter at his side. Gibbs took neither sentiment as a compliment.
“Ducky…”
Mallard stepped away and teasingly ruffled Sam’s pig-tails, carefully directed her to the cupboard and then he smiled at Gibbs.
“I concur with Anthony, and please do not tell me that a seasoned field agent needs a mediator to clear up a slight misunderstanding.”
That was playing dirty.
“Sempera? He can be a little grumpy, I know, but he has been my friend for a long time, try to get along, please.” Ducky handed a rag to the girl and crossed the room to open the door. They could see DiNozzo standing outside, his PDA in his hand. Tony’s head flew up and he regarded them anxiously. Before the door closed again, Ducky turned to Gibbs. “Jethro, far be it from me to question one of your famous rules, but if I see her mention anything ever about signs of weakness, you will rue the day we met.” The door closed.
And Gibbs knew that he would make good on his promise.
Predicting the future was the forte of fools and dreamers. Gibbs was of the opinion that the most someone could do was set the groundwork, directing and manipulating the reachable chess pieces and then hoping for the best outcome possible. An outcome, when he thought about his relationship with Tony, that wasn’t even clearly defined. He couldn’t be sure it would pan out. Years of yearning didn’t mean the real deal would be what both of them wanted or needed. In fact, it was rather daunting that Gibbs would have to live up to a lot of fantasies.
Gibbs knew what he didn’t want, Tony out of his life, but the rest? Gibbs could see Tony in his bed as a weekend fuck buddy or at his breakfast table in the morning " everyday " , as good friend if their dynamic didn’t work out. Not all of those options were equally compelling. But in all of them Tony was … present. That was Gibb’s side of the equation, but what did the other man want? And " Gibbs sighed " there was Sam. She would be a major factor in nearly every scenario he could imagine. What a mess. It would be easier for all three of them the sooner he could manage to make Sam like him.
Now, what to do with Tony’s daughter…. He hadn’t been prepared for such a violent reaction, simply because he called her by her birth name. Gibbs searched her face for clues about how to proceed.
Various emotions fluttered over her small face, frustration and longing being the most prominent among them with a good portion of anger in the mix. Sam was keeping her eyes on the door, avoiding looking in his direction entirely. Gibbs felt with her, he wasn’t thrilled about this either.
Sam had decided to fulfill the easier part of her father’s wishes and was picking up the can from the floor and then depositing it in the dustbin. Gibbs could see her tiny teeth biting her lower lip as she threw sneak-peeks at him out of the corner of her eye.
Gibbs used one of these glances to sign and say.
“So, you do not like me.”
Ducky had said something about a bucket. The agent found it, filled it with water and a mild cleaning agent and brought it over, only to be ignored. Gibbs was tempted to pull at his own hair. Eight year old girls were masters at making a grown man feel like a beastly ogre. And little girls could sulk with the best of them; Sam was going for gold at the moment. This side of dealing with children he had forgotten. Gibbs moved to be in her full line of sight again.
“Needs water, moping up alone won’t help, the sugar in the fluid will make the floor sticky.”
Her fist tightened around the rag. He waited and sat back on his haunches. Finally the rag was dipped into the offered water, wrung out rather violently and used to soak up the puddle and then thrown into the bucket again, spraying them both with drops. The process was repeated.
Minutes later there was nothing more to be cleaned. Small shoulders were drawn up defensively and her head turned to him.
‘I knew that, I am not stupid. Kimmy spilled her coke once and tried to hide it with her folder. She wasn’t even supposed to have coke at the school! The folder got stuck to the floor. I asked and Ms Riccardo explained about the sugar crystals acting like glue and how some glues need water and some oily things like turpentine to come undone. This was juice too. So- you didn’t have to tell me.’
“I stand corrected.” Gibbs inclined his head, deferring to her expertise. “You remembered and used it to solve a similar but not exactly the same problem. One day you will make a great investigator, just like your father.”
The praise made her light up. Yeah, just like her father. Sam still looked at him suspiciously but it was much lighter now.
One side of her face was wet and soapy, where she had tried to get her hair out of the way and her pigtails were in a sorry state as well, but Sam didn’t seem to care. One major difference to the quite vain Tony. The warm smile on Gibbs' face slowly disappeared. The thought of what could have easily happened to Tony’s daughter today made Gibbs want to shoot someone, preferably the asshole that threatened something so precious.
He picked up the bucket and the rag.
“I’ll take this back to the sink. Have to contribute, or Ducky will have my hide.”
Sam had to think about it and then she nodded graciously and came along to supervise. Gibbs took it as another step forward. The next signs came slowly.
‘You went with Daddy to my school, leaving me behind.’ Could that be a green baby-sized monster clinging to Sam’s back or was it the being left behind bit that had her up in arms against Gibbs?
“Do you think Mrs Reynolds,” Gibbs used the scarecrow sign and hoped that it wouldn’t provoke a negative reaction, but rather solidarity against a common foe, “would have respected you as your dad’s backup? She had her assistant with her, another adult.”
Sam’s hands faltered she repeated the backup sign.
Yeah, that might not have been vocabulary she needed to learn until now. There was a lot of military and investigative lingo the little one would pick up from both of them.
“It means help, someone to make sure that no one could attack from behind. So…?”
She made a grimace, not answering.
“Don’t think so either.”
She looked so defeated at that moment but he guessed she wouldn’t accept any gesture of comfort from him. If he tried she would bite him like any cornered fox cub would.
Gibbs wondered how long DiNozzo would give them to ‘sort it out’. His little companion kept looking at the door, probably wondering about it too. A deep sigh cut the silence and with the air of a condemned soldier facing the firing squad, the little girl positioned herself in front of him, straightened and met his eyes.
‘I’m sorry for throwing the can. You didn’t know that I would object to my name sign.’ She squirmed, clearly not finished yet. ‘You can call me SAM, that’s what most people use and it is short enough’ Her fingers spelled out the name.
“I accept your apology, Sam.” He smiled at her. “You can use JET, it’s short for Jethro.”
Sam stared at him, maybe she wasn’t used to adults reacting like that to an apology. Or she wasn’t used to apologizing. Gibbs felt with her, he wasn't used to it from either side of the equation.
The little girl seemed to need a long time to contemplate the name issue before she came to a conclusion.
‘JET is ok, for now.’ Another longing glance at the exit was followed by a tentative one directed at him. ‘Do you think we can leave now?’
“Let’s try.” Gibbs upended the half forgotten bucket and put it on the floor to let it dry, arranging the wet rag over it. He nearly missed the next sentence.
‘I still don’t like you…much.’ The stubbornly raised chin was back, but that was all right with Gibbs. He could be a tenacious bastard, but he had more stamina as well and this was progress at least.
DiNozzo was waiting for them and a relieved beaming smile was directed at the duo when he saw them emerge together, without further wounds of war. He shut down his PDA and shoved it carelessly into his pocket.
“So, you two ok?”
OK was such a bland word, it could be used for a whole range of positive states.
“Yeah.” Gibbs acknowledged.
Sam nodded, darted around Gibbs and reached for her father’s hand, snuggling against his side.
The younger man used another fancy handkerchief to remove some of the smudges on Sam’s face. Now it was the older DiNozzo sending him insecure glances out of the corners of his eyes.
“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” he directed at both of them.
That comment earned Tony a sour look from his daughter and Gibbs had to concur. Sometimes it was much less painful to throw punches than talk.
-.#-.
Ziva David and Tim McGee had arrived and were waiting for them in the squad room. It was nearly deserted, the digital clock showed that it was past 1830 hours and most personnel had clocked out.
Two aisles down from their area there was still activity. Tony wrinkled his nose and made sure that there was nothing being shown that could traumatise little girls. Another team was working a big case and the agents were using the relative silence to put together clues and using the big screen to compare their findings; without a certain team hogging the equipment.
Tony had heard them talking about it earlier. The case centered around a big financial scam; some naval accountant had secretly put away a good portion of the supply fund, got himself discharged and was now playing Carmen Sandiego, leaving some clues but not enough for NCIS to catch up with him. The intricacies of why he had been able to do it at all went above Tony’s head. They had only caught on to the fact so soon because the paranoid captain of the Seahawk, who always checked if his stash was going to be filled up, insisted on investigating why his coffee wouldn’t be delivered. Go figure, the Marines on board must have rubbed off on him.
The sun was still high up in the sky, it being summer, and the air condition was running, for once flawlessly, keeping everything cool and pleasant.
The director of NCIS was still here too, Leon Vance was observing the room from his vantage point outside MTAC. He had not been happy about this new development but Gibbs had assured him that his team had volunteered to look into the possible abduction threat to their colleague’s child.
Vance observed their progress through the room and indicated that they should join him. Tony pointed at Sam and made a questioning face, secretly hoping that he could send her to McGee, but Vance indicated with his hands that he wanted all three of them to come up.
The nervous father crossed his fingers, thanked his good fortune that he had used the elevator ride to clumsily redo Sam’s hair- and Gibbs had been no help at all!- and hoped that she would behave herself. Tony had explained what was going on to his daughter, that someone had tried to kidnap her. There was no telling if she understood the seriousness of the situation.
They climbed the stairs, Sam looking around curiously.
“Director Vance, thank you for supporting us with this. May I introduce you to my daughter, Sam Peltier?” Tony, now that he knew about the pitfall, was more cautious about introductions. “Sam, this is the man who is the boss of all of NCIS, Director Vance.”
Sam smiled angelically up at the big black man, clearly not phased by his muscular frame and signed her greetings. Tony could see how the bear of a man, usually stern and uncompromising when faced with anything DiNozzo, melted.
The little devil could be very charming, if she wanted to. Unfortunately she rarely ever wanted to.
To Tony’s everlasting surprise Vance even signed back, a slow, simple greeting.
“I am sorry that is all I know. I was looking forward to meeting the girl who caused such an uproar.” Tony translated and his daughter had the grace to look a little bit abashed.
“She says that she didn’t want to cause problems and that,” here he did some creative editing out of her line of sight, “everyone was very nice to her.”
Gibbs was shifting beside him and Tony caught himself before could throw the other man a glare. It sounded much better without the ‘nearly’ he left out. Her hands were signing again and Sam nodded vigorously. This part he had no problem translating. “Ah, I told her to come here when there was trouble and she is happy that we didn’t arrest her and instead found out the truth. And that we help to keep her safe.”
Now it was Vance’s chance to beam.
“That’s our job.” He and Gibbs said it at the same time.
Oh yeah, little manipulative devil indeed. Tony should count his blessings; and not chance Lady Fortune too much.
“May I send Sam down to the team? I think it would be… better.”
“Of course. We have to iron out some details and this could get tedious for her.” One big hand was offered to the girl and she shook it earnestly before following her father’s directions and climbing down the stairs.
“She’s very sweet, DiNozzo. Can’t let anything happen to her.”
On that he agreed with the director. Tony squirmed and kept the pleasant smile firmly on his face. “Can’t accept the credit, it’s more her mother’s doing, even if she didn’t have much time for her the last years.”
“There’s news?” Gibbs brought the conversation back to business, positioning himself slightly in front of his subordinate.
Vance had followed Tony’s daughter’s progress and nodded absently, a deep furrow developing on his forehead.
“The local LEOs called, as long as we can point out a possible naval angle it’s our case. Any ideas?”
Wasn’t that the question of the hour. Tony had wracked his brain for an answer but there weren’t any clues yet and too many possibilities.
“Both her stepfather and her mother were in the service, it could tie back to them, yeah. Sergeant Christopher Peltier was involved with a classified program.” They would have to look into their backgrounds far deeper than Tony had done when he first learned about Sam.
“Or it could be someone who wants to blackmail DiNozzo into altering his statement in one of the upcoming court trials.” Gibbs added. It was one option he found deeply disturbing, because it would indicate not only a great deal of ruthlessness but also a possible additional threat to Tony himself.
“The Williams case is up next week and a lot depends on my witness report of the shooting.” Tony looked down into the squad room and smiled when he saw McGee hurry to rescue his notes from curious fingers. “Gunthar’s trial could turn nasty as well and the scumbag has a certain reputation. The other two cases I have to appear in court for are fairly open and shut.”
“Hm.” Vance’s fingers were drumming a fierce staccato on the railing. “I hate child abduction cases. Just to make it clear, Gibbs: both DiNozzos have to be protected and the older one,” the director fixed the agent in question with a stern stare, “is not allowed to work this case. He IS the case. Use him for information, search everything the Peltier’s left to their daughter for clues, he can help find evidence but not handle it, he is not allowed to interview anyone and don’t let him out of your sight.”
Judging by Gibb’s stance and the hard glint in his clear blue eyes, Vance could have spared himself the effort. The gray haired agent was grinning wolfishly at his superior officer. Even if he found it disconcerting to be talked about like he wasn’t there, Tony couldn’t help but being reassured by Gibbs fierce protectiveness.
-.#-.
As if one DiNozzo wasn't bad enough, now they had two! And there was no denying Sam’s parentage, she was as annoying as her father.
Making fun of him? Check. That stare from his carefully styled hair to the tips of his shiny leather shoes couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. He had been on his way to dinner with a lady friend when Gibbs' call came in and there hadn’t been any time to change into something less fancy.
Being nosy and getting into his things and notes? Check and check. McGee hastily stacked his notes in a neat pile and put a heavy paperweight atop them before she could pick another sheet up.
Asking questions non-stop? Check! She hadn’t been impressed that he didn’t know how to use ASL but that bump in the road for easier communication wasn’t stopping her either. The little menace had confiscated his lime green post-it block and held up scribbled questions about what he was doing. Why he was doing it. How long he needed to do it. If he could do it faster…
Timothy McGee would take bets that Sam even spelled his name the wrong way too. And the worst part of it? No way would Gibbs head slap this DiNozzo to shut her up. The boss generally didn’t interfere with his Agents’ shenanigans but he would reign Tony in if his behaviour interfered with getting work done.
Tony en miniature, the female version. Heaven help them. Ok, she was kinda cute with her earnest round eyes and the way she held her head slightly to the side like a bird while impatiently waiting for him to write down an answer. But why, oh why, had he been selected as the babysitter of choice? He had enough on his plate with the research the boss wanted to be concluded yesterday. Why couldn’t Ziva do it, she wasn’t as fast or effective as he was with databases, she was a woman-
Come to think of it, THAT was a scary thought. At the moment the Mossad Officer was inspecting one of her blades for nicks while her computer was running a search, an oily rag ready to be used if needed lay on the desk. OK, maybe he was indeed the better choice.
“David!” Gibbs appeared, suddenly and silently as was his custom. “Waiting for office time to keep your tools of the trade in good condition?” he mocked her and put his Sig into the drawer, shut it and turned the key. “How’re the background checks coming along. I want some results.”
Ziva was showing no outward reaction but she put her weapon back into its sheath and, following Gibbs pointed look at Sam, followed his example and shut it away with her own Sig.
Tim checked that his weapon was put away securely. The pint sized DiNozzo should not be able to get it in her curious fingers.
Gibbs had dominated the scene with pure force of personality so McGee was startled when he saw Tony standing in front of his desk.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on Sam. She give you trouble?” It threw Tim that the other man was accompanying every sentence he spoke with signs. Abby had told him once that it was considered impolite to do only one set of communication when both hearing and deaf people were in a room, if you knew how to sign.
“Uhm.” And that had been downright polite for Tony. “Ehm… she asks a lot of questions.”
“So should you.” Gibbs growl interrupted them. “Pick DiNozzo’s brains for information about Sam’s folks. I’ll call Peltier’s former CO.” Before Tim could stop himself his tongue slipped the leash.
“Shouldn’t take long then, not much brain there to pick apart.”
The older DiNozzo was standing very still and for a moment McGee could see hurt in his eyes but the expression disappeared quickly, replaced by a blinding smirk.
“Not all of us can be Einsteins, that would be so boring, don’t cha think?” He wasn’t signing that sentence.
Maybe that arrow had hit the mark too well and was poisonous to boot. McGee couldn’t help a twinge of bad conscience. His colleague had enough on his plate at the moment. Tim couldn’t imagine how he would feel if his child was in danger.
Sam had picked up at the sudden tension and was observing Tim and her father thoughtfully, her eyes turning flinty. Tony slouched into a chair in front of Tim’s desk and pulled her to his side.
“You love to call me juvenile, McRepetitive, so do you think that one of the games on my machine is appropriate enough for the real deal?” Tony’s flicked his long fingers against the girl’s forehead and it distracted her and made her grin again.
Tim took the comment as a mild riposte evening the score and breathed more easily.
“Don’t think so Tony but- give me a minute, I know of a small online drawing program for children. It’s great fun and teaches them to use a mouse more accurately. With little pictures you can add, animations and glitter and-.” Oh God, that sounded ridiculous. Heat was rising in his cheeks and he gulped. “My little cousin loves that game and showed it to me.” Tim added hastily and fled to Tony’s workstation. He was glad that Tony was looking at him gratefully and not with scorn, like he would have expected. Hm, the computer here might not be the best option. McGee looked around, he knew that he had put one of their field laptops somewhere.
Half a minute later Sam was sitting in front of a spare laptop so Tony could work on his computer if needed.
Tim wasn’t a good judge when it came to artistry but he thought she wasn’t half bad. Both men were looking up from their Q/A session every few minutes to check what she was doing.
He could identify all the people she was drawing easily. Sam was using perspective and the shapes weren’t too ludicrous either. Ducky’s suspenders and glasses were easily recognisable, a dark skinned Vance was standing in the background. A very black and white Abby with blood red lips. Tony in the center with a big smile on his face holding a happy Sam to him- One figure wasn’t that pronounced but he could guess by the long brown hair (and the blade) whom she had in mind as inspiration. Tim’s picture self was smiling goofily and she had managed to create highlights that made his painted hair look ready for an oil change. And Gibbs … Gibbs was standing beside Tony, with a really, really awful Marine haircut and his lips in a firm line.
Time went by. Busy research reigned, at one point interrupted by cheering from two aisles down and the other team rushing to the elevator, their cell phones pressed to their ears. The hunt for the missing accountant was on.
Sam was getting tired again, her head visibly heavy on her shoulders.
It was after sundown when Gibbs stood up.
“I’ve arranged a video conference with Major Conrad Morgan, he was Christopher Peltier’s CO, for oh eight hundred tomorrow. We need the security tape from the school’s front gate and to interview the staff, maybe that will give us more clues. We can't do more than keep Sam safe in the meantime. Some of us have work to do, others should call it a day.” He looked pointedly at the now sleeping girl.
Tim nodded and turned back to his computer.
“I’ll dig deeper and call if something crops up.”
Ziva nodded as well and kept typing, her eyes fixed on her computer screen.
“DiNozzos, with me. We’re goin’ home.”
Chapter End Notes:
My beta Ria gifted me with an illustration for this chapter.
http://s651.photobucket.com/albums/uu239/riazendira/?action=view¤t=Samsdrawing2.jpg
http://s651.photobucket.com/albums/uu239/riazendira/?action=view¤t=Samsdrawing2.jpg