“Where’s Derek?” That was all Spenser said as he entered the dim room and closed the door. Tony opened his mouth to speak but words wouldn’t come. He told himself that he shouldn’t feel guilty; it wasn’t like he was with Eliot and it was no secret he pined for Gibbs. Hell, Eliot should be congratulating him, or so Tony told himself. But it did no good to deny the guilt he felt when he looked into Eliot’s calculatingly casual blue gaze.
“On a case. Out west,” Gibbs supplied, pulling the sheets up to Tony’s waist and turning to face Eliot as he approached the bed.
“Perfect,” was all Eliot would say as he stood and watched Gibbs size him up. He was too late. He had always seen himself as a willing substitute for the formidable man and now that Tony could have the real thing, Eliot saw no reason for Tony to choose him. “Be right back,” Eliot said, stepping out the room instead of just standing there while Tony held his sticky hands just beneath the sheets and Gibbs walked to the bathroom to cleanup. There was heaviness in Eliot’s chest that kept him from talking. He fought the irrepressibly urge to growl and break something. Instead, he thought about Tony who, for all his worried awkwardness was obviously quite excited about recent events. It gave the younger man the strength to do what he knew he must. He came back to the room with clean bedsheets and took the chance to strip back the old ones when he noted Gibbs had returned to the bathroom after cleaning Tony up. The older man moved to the window, allowing Eliot an illusion of intimacy “You look worn out, friend,” was what Eliot finally said when he moved closer to the bed, arranging the sheets neatly and avoiding meeting Tony’s apologetic stare.
“It’s the meds,” Tony apologized drowsily.
“The meds, the happy ending- it all leads to you getting some rest, Anthony.’
“Eliot-“
“Don’t talk. Close your eyes. This has turned out to be a short weekend. It’s too bad for you; I was gonna make you a few of those southern delicacies you love so much.” Eliot murmured on about cobbler and collards and ox tails for a minute. “Don’t worry about your place. It’s been locked up and it’ll be alright until you’re ready to go back,” he ended, refusing to say goodbye, feeling like it would be admitting defeat. It didn’t matter. Tony was asleep and only Gibbs was there in the background, witnessing Eliot’s heartbreak. “Next time, you call me earlier. See you in a few months,” Eliot said, leaning in to kiss sleeping lips which, to his surprise, puckered softly as Tony shifted into him.
“G’ sleep, El,” Tony murmured and Eliot smiled, not wanting to break the illusion.
“G’night, Anthony,” he said, gently getting up and walking out of the room.
~
Eliot had been silently seething all through the flight to Montana. He hadn’t even cared about the plush private jet they piled into in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t listen to the rundown of the families with the stolen ranches or the peculiar things that had been happening to the cattle. If he had been paying attention, he would’ve made the pilot turn around and they would never have landed at GTF. Downtown Great Falls had an Anytown, America kind of feel. When he thought about what he left in D.C., the stark contrast was depressing. He let out a thankful sigh of relief that at least he was staking out the woods which, as stupid as it sounded, was a hell of a lot better than a depressing, sparsely populated city on a dreary day. He checked the rearview mirror for Hardison who was still ranting about not having his ‘baby,’ the ubiquitous black van, as he hooked up cord and cables. “I don’t know what the hell Nathan expects me to find out here with this wannabe, knock-off command center in the back of a SUV. We should’ve just borrowed a local police surveillance van- does Great Falls PD even have those?” Alex rambled on, suddenly stopping when he heard a suspiciously grunted question from the driver’s seat. “What?”
“Exactly what are we looking for?” Eliot repeated, louder with a growl like a bear.
“I don’t know, man! That’s the whole point! Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying for the past hour? Look, it turns out the company ceasing all the property is a shell for the NPS- the National Parks Services, Eliot. That’s federal government, man! Now, we have dozens of large mammals in a fifty mile radius mutilated- all emanating from this central point. There’re wacky power spikes and lights coming from just ahead and I know you smell that barbequed oak tree tang in the air!”
“Drive closer.”
“Hell. No. Hell no, Eliot! Do you realize its 98 degrees? In Great Falls its 54 degrees, but come within a kilometer of this spot and everything gradually starts heating up. If I go any further the equipment may fry or-“ Eliot just turned on the truck and drove forward, ignoring Hardison’s sputters of indignation. “There’s radiation out there, Eliot!” They rolled closer into a shallow valley engulfed in ancient trees and tall foliage so that they were soon shrouded from the road. Branches reached out to scratch at the sides of the Denali and the smell of burning wood and flesh grew stronger and the temperature rose.
~
“…Of course, you’re only getting out of here today because Agent Gibbs swears you will be well attended and you’ll have two respiratory treatments everyday for the next week, right?” Dr. Pitt verified as he made copious notes on Tony’s chart. He pulled out his pad and scribbled out three prescriptions before handing them to Tony where he sat in the navy NCIS sweats Gibbs kept in his trunk. “You had a treatment this morning, Tony?”
“Yeah, doc- and I’m right as rain. In fact, the whole ventilator thing kind of cramps my style. I was thinking-“ His words were cut short by the sharp rap to the back of his head. “That I ought to get those prescriptions filled immediately,” he finished with an embarassed smile.
“Good. I’ll send you home with a couple of samples to cover your first two therapies. Now, where’s your ventilator?”
Tony leaned forward to whisper to the doctor confidentially, as if his boss didn’t have better hearing than any person Tony had ever met. “The thing is, Brad-“
“Don’t tell me you lost another ventilator, Tony! That’s part of the reason you end up back here twice a year! You’re not doing your treatments. This is the fourth time, Tony! First it explodes in a bombed car, then you leave it on a plane- what’s next- is your dog going to eat it?” Brad laughs, exasperated.
“I hate pets; they’re filthy. And I was being charitable, if you must know. The kid down the hall has cystic fibrosis and his mom couldn’t afford the replacement so I gave her mine.”
“That’s fine, Tony, as long as you buy another one. You have to use this if you want to keep your lungs from deteriorating further, Tony. I can’t stress enough how very important it is for you to take your medication as directed.
”No worries, doc. He’ll be taking it from now on,” Gibbs promised with a nod to Tony who quickly looked away.
“Now that I can trust. The nurse will bring your paperwork in a few minutes then you’ll be free to go. I’m going to send a new ventilator down. Remember, no work for at least three days. You can see me Wednesday if you want to be released to work. Otherwise, I suggest you take the week off and see me on Friday. Gibbs, thank you” he said, holding out his hand for a shake before walking out the quiet room.
Tony was thankful that Brad gave him another ventilator since he was ashamed to admit his exhaustion as he settled into the passenger seat when Gibbs pulled his car up to Bethesda’s main entrance; he couldn’t bear to wait in line at the hospital pharmacy for another ventilator. He was worried about making it up to his apartment since the elevator had been out for weeks now. He knew he could do it, even if he had to rest after each flight of stairs, but there was no way he was going to let Gibbs see him so weak; he’d never be allowed to return to work this week. Tony closed his eyes and slept for a few minutes, only waking when he heard the car door slam. It was dark when he opened his eyes and he was alone in the car. Tony immediately responded to Gibbs opening his door and releasing his seatbelt by rolling out of the car and struggling to his feet. “Ah, boss. You didn’t have to get out. You can just drop me at the door.” Tony limped away enough to give the door a weak shove then he looked up and realized he wasn’t home. He turned around to find Gibbs’ house and all he could think about was how badly he needed his bed. He grimaced.
Gibbs understood. “You’re tired. Let’s get you that medicine so you can get to bed. Tony wanted to ask a million questions, but he mostly wanted to go to bed. He turned to shuffle toward the stairs, his lethargic feet tripping over themselves before Gibbs caught him around the waist and ushered him into the house. Once inside, Tony tried to limp to the couch, but Gibbs’ arm around his waist wouldn’t allow it.
“I just need to sit for a minute,” he sighed.
“No, you need to lie down, you’re headed to bed, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah,” was all that Tony said. He wanted to ask if he was sleeping in Gibbs bed and if so, where would Gibbs sleep, but he didn’t want to give the impression that he didn’t want Gibbs’ company. They stopped twice before making it to the bedroom where the bed was already turned down. Gibbs sat Tony on the edge then knelt down to untie his shoes and swing his legs onto the bed. He noticed the ventilator was already set up with a box of tissue, a glass of water, and the other samples Dr. Pitt gave them waiting on the nightstand. “How long was I out?” Tony asked, wondering when Gibbs had time to set all this up. Gibbs just smirked, placing the mask over Tony’s nose and mouth and putting a remote in his hand. “Whoa! That looks new, boss,” Tony said as he turned the TV on and channel surfed on the 42 inch flat screen. “I didn’t know you had cable, boss.”
“I didn’t. McGee set all this up so I hope you know how it works.”
“I’ll figure it out. Gibbs, are you coming to bed?” Tony lifted the mask and gave his best leer but Gibbs just readjusted it and pulled back the sheets.
“I’ll sleep downstairs, DiNozzo. Are you hungry?”
“Just tired. And there’s no way I’m putting you on the couch, Gibbs. How long do I have to stay here, anyway?” Tony asked and Gibbs just smirked.
“Until I’m satisfied that you’ve been taking your medication as prescribed. Be right back,” he said, walking out the room and down the stairs. The aroma of the stew woke Tony from his near sleep as the therapy session ended. Gibbs set the tray over Tony’s lap and checked the ventilator. “You’re sucking in plain air now,” he said, shutting the machine down and removing the tubes from Tony. He handed the glass of water to the tired looking man with one direction, “Drink.”
Tony drank. The food smelled so good, but everything tasted like crap after one of his treatments. He sipped the water and put it down on the tray. After a few breaths, Gibbs handed him the glass again, obviously wanting Tony to finish. “Better?” Gibbs smiled knowingly when Tony set down the empty glass.
“I think I need a whole gallon of water to wash the taste out-“
“Try your dinner,” was all Gibbs said, smiling when Tony took his first taste and couldn’t stop. He left big chunks of beef and potatoes in the bowl, but ate heartily enough that Gibbs was satisfied.
“That was… wow. I didn’t know you cooked anything besides steak, Gibbs. Eliot would be impressed.” At the mention of his rival, Gibbs shot Tony an assessing look which had the man eager to explain himself. “It’s just that he swears I eat like a college kid and I’m gonna have a heart attack one day if I don’t change something soon- he’s always cooking for me when he’s here. It’s a compliment actually since he’s a gourmand-“
“I get it, Tony; Eliot’s a great cook. It’s okay. Are you going to call him?”
“Ah… I was kind of waiting for him to call me, but he hasn’t yet. He’s probably in the middle of some con right now. He’ll call when the job is done,” Tony brushed it off, managing not to sound guilty or concerned as he adjusted himself beneath the covers.
“I’m sure he will. Goodnight, Tony,” Gibbs said, puling the bedspread up and covering Tony, whose exhaustion was evident in the way he silently acquiesced to the order to go to sleep.
“DiNozzo,” Gibbs asked casually, “why would you be interested in a grifter?”
“Actually, boss, he’s more of the hitter in his group. He’s kind of a jack of all trades, I guess,” Tony finished, sighing dejectedly.
“Uhn-huh. He’s talented muscle. And easy on the eyes.”
“Yeah, Eliot has that whole brooding, sexy, dominant male mojo going on-“ Tony panted, talking about Eliot, but thinking about the man looking down at him.
“But not as easy as you,” Gibbs cut him off, not wanting to hear about all the things DiNozzo loved about the man. There would be time for that later.
“Yeah, I’m easy,” Tony agreed with a sexy smile, but his eyes were closing slowly as he turned on his stomach, gripping the pillow beneath his head and drifted off so quickly, Gibbs wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping.
“You need anything before I head back down?” Gibbs asked, suggestively changing the subject, but Tony was too tired to think about getting off. He kept his eyes closed, murmuring something incoherently so that Gibbs turned after a few seconds and walked out of the room without looking back. Tony listened for the soft skiff of his worn New Balance and just barely detected the change in the sound of Gibbs step when he left the staircase and made his way to the kitchen. The basement. Tony smiled, wondering if his boss would sleep under the boat.
Tony drifted off immediately, but he hadn’t slept too long before he woke in a bit of a stupor, grinding against the mattress. He turned over, massaging his balls with his left hand and gripping himself with his right. His steady pump had his heart leaping and diving but it wasn’t enough to push him over the edge. He began tightening his grip at the head, his body jerking in exquisite pain when his fingers caught on the ridge of his fat knob. “Shit!” Tony gasped, trying his best to keep up the hard, brutal pulls of his fist. Tony wantonly thrust his legs open then gripped his cock with his left hand then started a steady pump yet again. After several different positions and what seemed like an eternity to Tony, but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, he collapsed with a pitiful whine. He’d had trouble coming before, but he was more accustomed to not being able to stop coming. Now, he couldn’t shoot off at all and he wasn’t even having one of his cycles. He was glad his prostate wasn’t throbbing and burning, but it didn’t make the frustration of orgasm denial any less.
He thought about fucking Gibbs and the idea still seemed like a fantasy. He wished the silver haired fox were in front of him now, making that suggestive offer with his sexy smile. The problem was, Tony didn’t think he could go down to the basement with a boner and ask to be fucked. He knew there’d be a few aftershocks, but he felt fine now. Mostly. Just because he woke up horny didn’t mean he should expect Gibbs to service him. He couldn’t get over the feeling that he was forcing Gibbs to do something the ex-marine didn’t want to do, but that didn’t sound like Gibbs at all. He sat up, suddenly deciding to take a different approach. After all, he was a detective and if he wanted to know something, he could damn well figure it out himself. Tony looked around the room searching for signs that Gibbs was interested in men. He looked through a few drawers and found nothing out of the ordinary, but in the nightstand, all the way in the back so he almost missed it there was a tube of lube.
“Shit. It’s new,” Tony sighed, figuring it didn’t necessarily mean Gibbs fucked men since he might have purchased it specifically for use with Tony. In fact, the lack of condoms, sex toys and… anything remotely titillating led Tony to believe that Gibbs had very little sex. At least not in his home. Still, the new lube suggested that Gibbs was okay with his role as pinch hitter. Tony was relieved to know that, even though they hadn’t talked about what happened in the hospital, Gibbs was alright with what he’d done to help Tony and apparently was willing to do it again. It wasn’t lost on Tony that Gibbs hadn’t taken his clothes off or gotten any satisfaction for himself and Tony wondered if Gibbs would give him the full treatment now that they were in the privacy of his home. What he longed for more than anything was to be taken in a passionate, skin on skin embrace, followed by nerve-shattering orgasms and copious cuddling. But even after admitting to himself that Gibbs was willingly preparing to fuck him, Tony still hadn’t worked up the nerve to walk down to the basement and ask for it. He went back to bed, tossing fitfully and throwing off the sheets with a groan when he became overheated. Again he closed his eyes, dreaming of the scent of Old Spice and sawdust so that when he awoke to the smell of Gibbs, he wasn’t sure he was really awake.
Tony moaned loudly in is half slumber, flopping restlessly on the plush mattress. He lay sprawled on his back, roughly massaging his stiffness beneath the cool breeze of the ceiling fan. He thought little of the smell of sawdust until he felt another hand working him in strong, sure strokes. Then another warm hand squeezed Tony’s balls, pulling down to delay his release. Tony’s whine of frustration was matched by his insistent hands which gripped himself ruthlessly, only to cover the large, calloused fists of his dream man who had yet to say a word. “Let me!” Tony demanded.
“No. My job,” was the only response, but it had Tony struggling to awareness, his breathing changing and his eyelids fluttering open. Gibbs held Tony completely still, waiting for the frustrated man to give in and relinquish control. Tony grabbed at his engorged cockhead, managing a squeeze as his scrotum was twisted, giving him a quick burst of pain followed by a stinging smack to his offending hand. After trying in vain to stroke the areas that weren’t covered by Gibbs’s hands and receiving several swats to his butt and legs, Tony gave up. He rubbed at his left butt cheek, realizing Gibbs was serious about not letting him masturbate. The pent up energy, excitement of Gibbs’s hands on him, and an unexpected spanking had Tony on the edge in seconds. He breathed deeply, looking at Gibbs with what he hoped was a challenging leer and the older man just returned a slight smile, satisfied that he had Tony exactly where he wanted him.
Gibbs wasn’t one to gloat. He didn’t need to; Tony knew who was in control. They both knew it as soon as Tony fisted his hands in the sheets beside himself and drew his legs opened wide, daring Gibbs to do something else. “I thought we agreed that I’d be taking care of this for you,” Gibbs remarked, resuming his slow strokes.
“N-not sick anymore, boss,” Tony explained, concentrating on making words.
“So, you don’t need my help?” Gibbs asked, stopping his stroke right at the tip, squeezing and releasing it roughly, inducing a broken sob from Tony’s throat.
“Don’t stop. Pleasedon’tstop.” Tony gasped, jerking his hips hard to help himself come. “Don’t!” He hissed when he felt nothing but cool air surrounding his cock as it trembled in the darkness. His hands automatically went to finish the job but they were caught my Gibbs’s ruthless grip. He forced Tony’s hands above his head, wrapping the younger man’s fingers around the rungs of his masterfully crafted mission headboard, looking him in the eye.
“Don’t. Move,” Gibbs ordered, letting go of Tony’s hands but not his gaze. Gibbs sat up and Tony closed his eyes, listening to a drawer open then close. He heard the cap of the lubricant and the squirt then felt the squishy coldness between his legs. He gyrated his hips to let Gibbs know his cock needed attention too and, when he felt that first finger slid easily in, he couldn’t control himself. Tony moaned, fucking himself on Gibbs’s finger, trying in vain to make it hit that spot. “Patience,” was all Gibbs said as he held his hand utterly still. It took a few moments for Tony to realize that Gibbs would not move unless he calmed down, so he slowed his movements. “That’s good, now lie still,” Gibbs encouraged Tony, stroking his torso with his free hand until Tony was prone, panting a bit as he clutched the headboard with his eyes glued shut. Gibbs added another finger and went deeper. “Good?”
“Mmmhmm,” Tony agreed, holding his hips back rigidly, trying his best not to fuck Gibbs’s fingers.
“Good Tony. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” Gibbs asked, but he wasn’t interested in Tony’s answer as he changed the angle of his now three fingered thrust so that it hit that bundle of nerves just right. Tony screamed his appreciation, instinctively scooting closer to Gibbs so that he was sitting up with one hand propped behind himself, and the other clutching at Gibbs’s forearm which suddenly froze. From this new angle, Tony could rub himself against Gibbs’s arm and get a little friction. “Down, Tony,” was all Gibbs said as he gave Tony a gentle push, caressing his chest and abdomen until he reached up and grabbed the headboard once again. “Now,” Gibbs started, rubbing over that spot again and again, “are you ready to come?” Gibbs asked, finally grabbing Tony’s bobbing cock and squeezing before giving it long strokes alternated with rough little pumping at the tip. Tony nodded his head wildly as he rode the uncontrollable jerks that overcame him each time his prostate was bumped by those demanding fingers. “Then c’mon, Tony. Let it go.” That was all Tony needed to hear.
“Oh shit! Oh! Ohohoh,” He let out a guttural cry, his pitch increasing until he was gurgling, no longer able to make coherent speech. He remembered panting for breath and hearing a sexy chuckle, but not the warm wash cloth wiping at his face and chest or the bedsheets carefully tucked around him or the door being pulled closed against the bright hall light.
~
It was Friday and McGee was in his usual good mood as he sauntered in with morning coffee for the team. Hi s black jacket was butter soft leather and his jeans were stylishly worn. Not only did he wear a casual button down, but there was also a vest underneath his jacket which seemed like a weird choice to DiNozzo who almost sneered at his alarmingly sexy partner. “What’s with the vest, McFashion faux pas? Who told you that was a good wardrobe choice?” DiNozzo couldn’t help but annoy his partner even as McGee handed him his white chocolate mocha with extra chocolate and foam, just the way Tony liked it.
“I think you look rakish… and sexy, McGee.”
“Thank you, Ziva,” Tim smiled, ignoring Tony which only made the senior officer testier.
“What’s that smell? It’s kind of citrusy-sweet and musky and … heavenly,” Tony sighed as he followed the smell across his desk towards McGee’s. When he touched Tim’s desk he realized who he was headed for and made a disgusted face. Ziva laughed sinisterly almost low enough to be missed.
“Is McGee’s cologne intoxicating, Tony?”
“No. I"of course not! It’s his fruity tea-“
“My regular coffee, Tony,” Tim smiled with a grin that said he wasn’t as engrossed in his email as pretended to be.
“Or th-the muffin he ate on his way here.”
“No muffin.”
“Right, Slimtim. You both think this is pretty funny, don’t you,” Tony hissed venomously.
“Oh my. Tony, we were just playing,” Ziva promised, looking a bit contrite. “However, you must agree that you have been acting… differently as of late,” she said, obviously choosing her words carefully.”
“No, I haven’t,” he said, moving back to his seat. “I’m gonna be sick,” he whispered, not noticing the concerned and amused looks of Tim and Ziva respectively. He sniffed his coffee cup and violently gagged before catching himself.
“It’s your favorite, Tony,” McGee said with confidence and a bit of worry.
“Yeah. I don’t feel like coffee this morning.”
“Are you okay, Tony? You’ve been in a mood these past few days-“
“What? Of course I’m okay. Can I help it if your subpar detective skills have been a thorn in my side all week?” He glanced at McGee, thinking this handsome new partner was a totally different person than the probationary agent who transferred from Quantico seven years ago. ‘Maybe something is wrong,’ Tony thought.
“Nice try, but you’ve been on edge for more than a week, Tony. What’s going on?” McGee asked seriously, turning back to his email when no answer was forthcoming.
“Nothing, McNosy. Mind your own business,” Tony said, throwing wadded paper at his suddenly and disturbingly hot partner.
“Really? Because first you went ballistic on that witness last week who said you couldn’t have been an athlete-“
“And then there was the crème puff incident. You totally lost it,” Ziva stage whispered.
“I thought we agreed to never discuss that. And I didn’t lose it. Tim? Tell her,” Tony asserted, leaving Tim and Ziva to wonder if it was the embarrassment or illness coloring his neck and face.
“You lost it.” Tim shrugged, hating to be the bearer of bad news.
“I’m gonna lose it if you don’t shut up and get moving. We got a body. National Zoo.” Gibbs said with all the force of his usual command so that David and McGee were headed towards the elevator in seconds.
“Are you okay, DiNozzo?” Gibbs demanded, standing in front of Tony’s desk.
“I’m fine boss,” Tony answered immediately.
“Then why are you sitting at your desk?”
“Oh! Right behind- in front of you, boss!” Tony amended, jumping up and double timing it to the elevator.
Things were looking up for Tony, or at least he acted that way. He was still uncomfortable with his growing attraction for McGee and, after getting the beginnings of a tent in his pants on the elevator, he made an effort to stay far enough away to not catch a whiff of his scent. Tony was glad Ziva and McGee took the van while Gibbs drove the Avenger. He called shot gun and jumped in next to Gibbs. The ride was full of speeding and abrupt stops until Gibbs noticed Tony held the door and his seatbelt with a white knuckled grip. He slowed down gradually, not wanting to be obvious. Tony, as it turned out, didn’t notice a thing. He was too busy being relieved that he wouldn’t retch in front of his boss. It wasn’t until they were almost at the zoo that Tony calmed enough to notice his surroundings. He sniffed suspiciously and couldn’t hold back a groan. Gibbs smelled even better than Tim. ‘Shit,’ Tony thought as he dropped his hand from the seatbelt to his lap, casually covering the bulge in his pants.
“Something you want to tell me, Tony?” Gibbs asked, suggestively as he parked but Tony just shook his head. Gibbs sat in the car, looking at Tony knowingly for a heartbeat then he smiled and threw himself out the door and into the crime scene. Tony had been unable to form words and he didn’t know what he’d say if he could. All he knew for certain was that he would be getting more from Gibbs than a few fingers and a quick hand job. ‘Even if I have to jump the old man,’ he thought then hopped out of the car. “On your six, boss.”
The day went downhill from there. The walk to the panda habitat with all the equipment was hell on Tony’s back and once they arrived, the smell was horrific. Not that anyone else mentioned the disgusting odor, but Tony could hardly swallow. He started shooting the scene as soon as he noticed the first smatterings of blood wiped across a bright green bush. He followed the blood trail until he was looking at a boot. Then two. Then legs. Then … there was the grass and dirt where a torso should’ve been and suddenly Tony realized it was the stench of entrails turning his stomach. He just barely made it outside the gate of the panda habitat and behind a bush where he lost the cup of milk and the plain toast he managed to keep down from breakfast. After gathering himself and thanking god for his breath spray, Tony went back into the crime scene. He did his best to ignore Ziva and McGee who stood a few feet away, smiling until Gibbs stealthily moved behind Ziva who was near laughter. “Get to work, probie,” he demanded. And things went back to normal.
Except now Gibbs was watching Tony. “Interview the doctor who found her,” Gibbs ordered, getting Tony away from the crime scene for a while. Tony took the back entrance, circling around the large enclosure until he reached the double doors leading to the air conditioned panda display. He perused the closed down exhibit, learning a little about the pair on loan from China for two years until a hidden door opened and an entourage of black clad soldiers in red berets came marching through, ushering a sedated panda into a large truck.
“Dr. Godat! Where are you taking my evidence?” Tony demanded, recognizing the doctor from the exhibit pictures. He was a thin man of average height an olive toned skin who looked haggard in his rumpled clothes. Only his white coat saved him from looking like a total mess. He looked, Tony thought, just like the families they sometimes interviewed after a loved one died. Tony took a few long strides to where the doctor stood surveying the procession and pulled out his identification, “NCIS. We’re going to need to see that panda, doctor, and anything else those troops took out of here-“
“Allow me, Dr. Godat. Dr. Martha Jones,” the petite woman in the black uniform said. “This site has been quarantined by the government, Mr. ...?”
“DiNozzo. And I know: I am the government. NCIS. Now, who are you and where are you taking my evidence?” Tony demanded, putting his badge away.
“My apologies sir. I’ve been given presidential jurisdiction as the United Nations Intelligence Liaison. I think there’s been a mistake-“
“There’s been a murder, Dr. Jones. A marine was killed here and I’m going to find out why. We owe Warrant Officer Connor that much.”
“Actually, Jodie Connors was an ex marine, recently assigned to our team. We’ll be sure to update your Marine Corps files and fix this oversight. My apologies Special Agent DiNozzo. Move out!” The pretty lady barked in her polite, English accent, marching away with all the evidence and at least a dozen guns toting goons in jaunty red caps. Tony followed Dr. Godat back into what looked like a laboratory, firing off whatever came to mind while he had a chance.
“What happened here, doctor? Where are they taking the pandas?”
“Panda. Back to China I’d imagine,” the doctor said, sounding a bit dejected. “It’s not our fault we lost one. There was nothing wrong and then she just exploded! I- I’ve never seen anything-“
“With us, Dr. Godat,” a black clad soldier said, grabbing the doctor and pushing him out of the room to joining the military entourage. In seconds, Tony was alone in the room, snooping around until he found the door leading to the corridor of the exhibit.
“Yech!” He groaned at the smell that seemed to be emanating from the walls. When he reached the outdoors, he was almost relieved until the smell of entrails hit him again. “Boss, we’ve been hijacked.”
“We know, DiNozzo,” McGee said, pointing to where Gibbs and Ducky were arguing with a short, pretty lady with an English accent. Gibbs walked away angry as he headed back to his team.
“Dr. Jones, I presume,” Tony said to Gibbs who just looked at Tony then looked back at the officer who was no longer there.
“The doctor claims our marine is an ex-marine. McGee?”
“Yeah boss. According to this, Warrant Officer Jodie Conner was honorably discharged two months ago and… that’s weird-“
“What’s weird McGee?” Gibbs demanded with little patience.
“Well, you’d think she’d be listed as a civilian, but she’s not. I don’t know which branch of the armed forces this would be-maybe some special forces operative, Gibbs.” Gibbs said nothing. He walked away making a phone call and returned a few minutes later.
“Wrap it up. Get finish collecting whatever’s left and get back to the yard to figure out what we’ve got,” he barked, obviously going somewhere else.
“We’re still working this case? Of-of course, we’re working the case- stupid question, boss,” Tim said, getting back to photographing where the carnage that was Jodie Connor had lain before the soldiers bagged it up and carried it off. They left very little on the scene so that the Ziva, Tim, and Tony were soon headed back to the office.
“So, where did she say she was from?” Ziva asked again as she sat on her desk, leaning forward to await her partner’s chauvinistic description. Tony sighed long-sufferingly.
“She said the United Nations, but I didn’t see any insignias, badges, or anything- they could’ve been anyone. All I got was the name Dr. Martha Jones.”
“Assuming it’s not an alias,” Tim said, swiveling around and pecking at his keyboard. “Let’s check the UK for our English Dr. Martha Jones… here we are,” McGee said, instantly pulling up her driving licence image and documents stamped with a seal initialed IC. “Daughter of Clive and Francine Jones, born and raised in London with younger sister and brother, Tish and Leo. Attended Imperial College Medical School and did residency briefly for the NHA before suddenly dropping off the grid and being catapulted to some vague military squad allegedly from the UN.”
“Which is ridiculous because the UN does not have a military-“
“Of course they do, Zi-vah. They wear those stylish blue hats.” Tony smiled, happy to point out her error.
“The UN does not have its own military and you’re right, the volunteer military wears blue caps not red. So, does Dr. Jones have a military background, Tim?”
“Hardly. Last I heard she was a pacifist,” came and unexpected voice from behind. Tony smiled charmingly and Ziva whipped around in surprise as the clicking of Tim’s keyboard ceased.
Old Friends by joblo