Chapter 7
Tony glanced around at the team, took a breath and nodded, walking into Abby’s lab. “Abbs?” he asked, motioning to Ducky to do the introductions, the new Gibbs looking so alike and yet so different to their Gibbs that it still startled him.
“Ah yes, yes.” Ducky walked over to the other man. “I’m Doctor Mallard. They call me Ducky. I’m the medical examiner here at NCIS. And with me are our Mossad Liaison Ziva David and Special Agent Timothy McGee.” He waited for the others to speak, giving them an encouraging look.
“Hey, Tony!” Abby rushed forward to give Tony a hug, needing his stable strength to pull her back from the confusing interlude she’d had with the new Gibbs.
“You okay?” Tony whispered into her hair, holding her tight.
She couldn’t answer him, not in front of everyone, so she just shook her head. “I screwed up, Tony. God, I screwed up so bad. What if I can’t bring Gibbs home?”
“Don’t know,” Tony said honestly. “But we’ll figure it out, Abbs. The team is all together on this.”
Deciding to make the first step, Tim walked forward and held out his hand. “You can call me Tim,” he began. “Sorry about pulling a gun on you earlier. Wasn’t personal…”
Though Tim went forward to introduce himself, Ziva hung back, knowing her presence might not be welcomed by the newcomer. Instead, she waited to support Tony if he needed it.
Jet paused a moment before accepting both men’s hands. “L.J., or Jet, call me Jet.” He focused on the woman next. “Hell of a fighter. Should have pegged you for Mossad.”
Looking into the eyes that were the twins of her boss and friend, Ziva could make out the differences. “Yes, you should have. But you fought well enough,” she acknowledged as best she could, under the circumstances. Deciding it was safe now, she held out her hand for him to take.
He shrugged, he could have done better and he knew it. Eyeing her and then her hand, he shook it slowly before pulling her close in an unexpected move that plastered her against his body, her back arched, eyes wide in what he supposed was shock. His other arm went low and tight around her and he squeezed her against his body, kicking her legs wide. “You won’t always best me, though. Think we’re evenly matched.”
“You can think that if you like,” Ziva replied cryptically, tapping his side with the flat blade of her knife, showing the kill shot through his ribs. “But until you get the full measure of the person you are up against, I would hesitate on making assumptions.” In their position, Ziva could feel what was pressed between them. Raising her eyebrow at him, she asked, “Or do you have other things on your mind?”
When the man pulled Ziva against his body, Tim had his hand on his gun, not knowing if he needed to pull it out again. “Ziva?” he asked, hesitantly.
“It is all right, McGee. He is merely testing himself against me. Is that not correct, L.J.?”
He was impressed with her cool under pressure. “Jet,” he emphasized. “Not making any assumptions that aren’t true. You’re Mossad, you have the look of a very highly trained operative. I trained a few of your people a couple of years ago. Effective techniques for combat when they were secured by both arms and legs. Don’t underestimate me either.”
He realized that he’d gotten hard then, the adrenaline channeling itself below. Pushing his hips away from hers, he moved away quickly, took her knife, and then handed it back to her, hilt first, with a cocky smile on his face.
“Testing, yeah.” He looked at the younger man and then at the older one who was standing in a ready position. Only the shortest and eldest one was completely relaxed, studying him with shrewd eyes.
Sliding her knife back into its holster, she stepped away from him, closer to her team. Finally able to take a closer look at Abby, Ziva grew concerned at the defeated look on her face. What had happened while she had been alone with L.J.? If he had hurt her… Ziva looked over at him, trying to gauge what had happened.
He noticed her expression hardening and he arched a brow, a stab of unease ripping through him. He didn’t say anything, knowing if they were going to try and convict him en masse that he couldn’t do a damned thing to convince them otherwise.
“Talk to us,” Tony said to Abby quietly.
Slowly and with great embarrassment for meddling in Gibbs’ life, she tried to plead with them to understand. “I didn’t mean to cause such a…crisis. I was just trying to help Gibbs. Tony, you saw. You saw how defeated he was, how closed off from all of us he was becoming. He blamed himself for the dissolution of the team. He was determined to push us all away to stop that from ever happening again. I went to his house last night. Wanted to talk with him, see if I couldn’t help somehow. Should have known it wouldn’t work. He’s never been able to let anyone in. So, I left. And I came back with this…”
Pulling out the flask from her pocket, she showed it to the rest of them. “I did some research. I don’t really know what I was looking for, just some way that I could find to give Gibbs some happiness or at least some peace. I found a few hinky sites, obvious frauds looking to make money off of people’s pain.” Her eyes narrowed at that thought. Abby hated people who took advantage of those in need, whether it was poverty or something else.
“After that, it gets a bit hazy. I found a forum talking about Marines and the loss they feel after war, after losing spouses. I think I clicked a link. That’s where the hazy part really gets thick. I don’t really remember much after that. Just waking up on the floor, clutching the flask in my hands.”
Tony took the flask, stroking a hand over it, the indented area and the engraved names on it, the memory of what their boss had lost. “You took this from him? What if he missed it?” Tony asked her gently, letting her know he wasn’t impressed by that.
“Abby?” Tim gasped. “What did you do? You stole from Gibbs? And then did, what, a spell on him and sent him to who knows where?”
Tony took in a deep breath, trying to summon leadership. “Can you retrace your steps? Abbs…you have to. Probie…help her.”
“I believe I may be of some help,” Ducky put in quietly. “I’ve heard tales of some arcane rituals when I spent time in Africa. There were also tales of universes quite like ours but with some fundamental differences. Perhaps we could enter some research together, my dear girl.”
Ducky? Of all the people, Ducky seemed to be open to this? It seemed strange but at the same time, it felt right that Ducky, with his knowledge and vast experiences, would be the one person to accept something different. “And we need to coordinate with Gibbs,” Tony said, motioning to Ziva. It might help this Gibbs to feel less ganged up on if they were in smaller groups.
“I have a suggestion…Gibbs and his team will probably need to get back to work. Vance is going to be suspicious enough with your little guns blazing dance upstairs. We don’t want to add to it. And don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything any more. I’m under strict supervision. Unless Gibbs gives the say so, I’m not going to do anything.”
Ducky nodded at the logic. He gave Tony a look and then nodded. “I haven’t any new visitors, so I can be called upon for any help at all.”
Tony nodded. What Abby said made sense. “Let’s do some practice sparring up there, to deflect attention there. Probie, Ziva…you ready?” Tony looked at Abby for a long moment, wishing he could hug her.
“Call me if you need anything, Abbs. Okay?” He watched her for another long moment, wishing he could help her. Moving closer, he held her tight. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Bad idea, but an honest mistake. We’ll get him back.”
Abby hugged him back fiercely. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I’ll bring our Gibbs back. I promise.” She’d been making that promise a lot today. Abby just hoped she wouldn’t let everyone down… again.
“I know. Abbs. I know. If he gives you any trouble, you call me.” His hand rubbed over her back. “I know you’ll get Bossman back. It’ll happen…” But Tony didn’t know that they’d have any answers or work through this easily. And in the meantime, Gibbs was out there somewhere. Tony knew they needed information, but he’d email Abbs some questions. They were all at their stress limit.
“I will, Tony. I will.” And she would, on all counts. She would figure this out. “Just make sure that Vance doesn’t get suspicious. I don’t know if we’d survive that interrogation.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Tony assured, hugging her one last time. He would, there was no better option, no other choice.
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