Part Two: In which Abby kidnaps Ziva.
XXX
"It wasn't accidental drug overdose at all," Ducky murmured, studying his own report with disgust. Gibbs, Abby, Tony, McGee and Ziva stood around him in a semi-circle, all waiting silently for the ME to vocalize whatever was on his mind.
Without looking up he asked, "Abigail, did you say that the drug used was Heroin?"
"Yeah," Abby nodded.
"Now why on Earth was there no sign of drug use?" Ducky asked rhetorically. Ziva watched Gibbs' facial muscles tighten as he clenched his jaw, and prepared for the explosion. She didn't have to wait long.
"Could you two possibly explain how a man dies of drug overdose without showing any sign of actually ingesting the drug?!"
"Well, technically it did appear in the blood," Abby interjected.
"So there is evidence?" Gibbs asked.
"No," Ducky shook his head. "Use of any drug always causes some sort of physical evidence on the user's internal organs, or, of course, in the case of injected narcotics, on the outside of the user as well."
"There's also usually a chemical imbalance in the brain," Abby added. "Which our guy did not have."
Tony looked sickened. "You tested his brain fluid?" he asked in revulsion.
"Uh huh," Abby nodded absently, bouncing on her heals, obviously trying to figure out the puzzling problem presented to them.
"And you knew about the drugs because of the discoloration of the blood?" McGee asked.
"Exactly, Timothy," Ducky nodded.
"Perhaps a new sort of drug?" Ziva suggested, shrugging helplessly.
"You'd still have the imbalance," Abby said without looking at her. "It just wouldn't work. Besides, I ran a full check on the drug. It's definitely heroin."
"Well that's just great," Gibbs muttered, taking a long sip from his coffee.
"Hey, Boss?" Tony said hesitantly. "It's already two-thirty, and none of us have had lunch yet. Um, do you think it'd be okay if we went for lunch now? Maybe get a fresh view on things when we come back?"
Ziva had fully been expecting the older man to refuse, so it took her a moment to realize that he had given a short nod and turned away, striding out of autopsy without a backward glance.
"Well, that was fun," McGee muttered. Tony smirked, and tossed an arm around the younger agent, grinning.
"Let's say you and me go grab a bite, Proby," he suggested genially. Ziva stared at him as if he had lost his mind, which seemed to be McGee's general consensus as well if the look on his face was anything to go by.
"Sure, Tony," he said uncertainly, trailing helplessly after the overly-boisterous man with obvious trepidation. Ziva turned to Ducky, where he still stood studying the chart.
"Doctor, do you think it could have been a substitute drug? Something made to have all the same chemical properties of heroin, but just changed enough not to have the same affect on the user?"
Ducky frowned in thought. "Please do call me Ducky. And no, as Abby said, it would be quite difficult to fake something as critical as a substances chemical makeup. There are all of the chemicals that must be balanced, and also a great deal of precision required in doing so. Why, I remember a time in Bulgaria, of all places, where I came across a poor fellow—"
"Hey, Ducky," Abby spoke from almost directly behind Ziva. "Mind if I steal her?"
"Oh, not at all, Abby," Ducky nodded, smiling.
"Thanks," Abby said, lightly resting a hand on Ziva's shoulder. It was the first time that the agent realized that the lab tech had a good two inches on her in the height department.
"Enjoy your lunch, you two," Ducky said kindly, turning away and walking towards his office.
"You're stealing me?" Ziva asked dryly.
She felt Abby's small laugh as much as she heard it through her contact with the other woman. "More like kidnapping, I suppose."
"I thought you hated me. Should I be scared?" Ziva turned, taking a step back so that she faced the Goth girl.
"Meh. Only if you've got an intense phobia of restaurants that you haven't told me about."
Ziva blinked. "Abby—"
Abby held up a hand, silencing her. "Shhh. Hey, you treated me last night… no, wait, I guess that was this morning. Sorry about that. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"
Ziva shrugged. "A bit."
Abby nodded. "Sorry. Anyway. It's my turn."
"What I did. That wasn't something that you should feel obligated to repay," Ziva tried to explain herself. She knew without a doubt that they weren't only talking about the food.
"Aren't I the kidnapper, here? When'd this turn into a debate?" Abby grabbed her hand and pulled her along with her out of the doors. Ziva shrugged and trailed along in amusement at Abby's determination.
They descended in the elevator to the garage in silence, and Ziva shifted uncomfortably in the small carriage. When they hit the bottom, Abby skipped out of the elevator, and directly to Ziva's car. She smiled her most beguiling smile at the agent, and looked with obvious longing at the driver's side door.
"No," Ziva said, fearing what Abby would do with her new vehicle.
"Pleeeeaaaasssseeee," Abby whined, in an excellent approximation of a child. Ziva stared at her, bouncing in place, pigtails swinging and coal lined eyes staring pitifully at her from under long lashes.
Sighing, she reached into her pocket and tossed the keys at Abby, who caught them deftly and slipped into the car. Ziva sat down on the other side, feeling strange as a passenger in her own vehicle.
"What's wrong with your car?" she asked.
Abby blushed. "Well, you know how you kinda drove me home last night, and I just said I'd get a friend to bring my car over this morning?"
"Yeah?" Ziva frowned at her.
"I guess I wasn't exactly legally parked last night, and I got a call this morning telling me that my car had been towed and impounded."
Ziva sighed. "And?"
Abby shrugged. "I'll get it back when I have time. No big deal." She turned the key, bringing the car to life.
Ziva sighed. "How did you get to work this morning?" she asked.
"Bus," Abby pulled out of the garage.
"And is there a chance that you would explain to me how you got the fifteen blocks from your apartment building to the nearest bus stop in freezing cold weather on the streets of downtown DC?"
"Yes, I did walk," Abby snapped. "No, I didn't get hypothermia, nor did I get raped, mugged or murdered!" She slammed down on the accelerator, speeding out and across the outdoors parking lot and into traffic.
Ziva fell back in her seat, wincing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to imply—"
Abby held up a hand. "No, no, it's all good. Forget about it." She reached forward, punching the on button for the radio, filling the car with the music of Ziva's newest CD.
"I've got your mind, I said; she said I've your voice." the woman sang softly from the speakers, piano her only accompaniment. Ziva blushed, and made to turn off the song, but Abby stopped her.
"Oh. My. Fucking. God," she said, slowly. "You listen to Tori Amos?!"
Ziva nodded. Abby let out a very Abby-like squeal, and flipped forward through the songs, turning up the volume on song seven. Ziva let out a laugh.
"I should have known this would be your favorite," she said.
Abby grinned, giving her a thumbs up. Ziva leaned back in her seat, watching the scenery fly by at an alarming rate and feeling relaxed for the first time that day.
"But I believe in peace, bitch."
XXX
When they pulled up outside the restaurant, Ziva wasn't surprised that she had never seen it before. Abby hopped out, petting the car like a favored animal before walking around to the other side, where Ziva had just stepped out and closed the doors.
"You would not believe the food this place serves," Abby gushed as she began walking toward the doors. "When I first came to work at NCIS, this is where me and Gibbs would go when we needed to resolve a fight that we thought might result in screaming and breaking things. You can't scream or break things in a public place."
"You and Gibbs fought?" Ziva asked, blinking. "I think my world was just tilted off its axis."
"Ha ha. Yes, when I transferred in it turned out I was the first person who would actually stand up to him and wasn't terrified into a puddle of cowering goo by his ‘glare of doom'. That pissed him off."
"But now you act as if he's a god that can do no wrong," Ziva objected, entering after Abby, and inhaling appreciatively the aromas that wafted to her nostrils.
"And just think how many arguments and explanations and compromises and promises it took to gain that devotion," Abby replied. "You ask me what I believe in, Officer David, and my answer's always going to be Gibbs."
Ziva blinked. "Not yourself?"
Abby shook her head violently. "Oh hell no. When you asked me if I wanted to die last night, and I said no, that was more an automatic reaction."
Just then, a waiter came to bring them to their table, and they didn't speak until the drink orders had been given, and they were alone once again.
"You've tried to kill yourself," Ziva stated.
Abby nodded. "Many, many times. Pills, cutting, carbon-monoxide poisoning, you name it. Most of the time I've stopped before it got too far."
"Does Gibbs know this?" Ziva asked softly. Abby nodded minutely, and turned the inside of her wrists to an angle where the agent could see the fresh looking scabs and scars there. She drew in a sharp breath, and looked at the other woman.
"How long ago?"
Abby shrugged, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "I don't know. Some time just after Kate died, I think."
"You don't remember?" Ziva asked incredulously.
"I—I mean, after Kate died—Well, she was a good friend to all of us, and I was sort of going through this phase where I was in denial, and I couldn't tell what was a dream and what wasn't. I didn't think I was actually doing it. I thought I was dreaming. Gibbs found me. Yelled at me, took me to a hospital, promised not to tell anyone. He didn't trust me, though. I stayed with him for a couple of weeks until he was satisfied I had my head on straight again."
"Are you two lovers?" Ziva asked. Abby choked on the water she was drinking.
"Oh, look. Our orders," she said, smiling overly-enthusiastically at the waiter that set down her soda and Ziva's tea.
"Indeed," Ziva said under her breath, deciding to leave that topic alone for the moment. She busied herself with her tea, stirring in the cream, pushing the sugar away in disdain.
"I have this friend," Abby said suddenly. "His name's Gabriel. He lives in New York and sells ancient artifacts and stuff to people off the Internet. He's been trying to get this cop friend of his to notice him for a while now, but it's not working because, well, she's got these other two or three guys who, well, one of them's a stalker, one of them's married and the other one works for Fornell, but that's not the point. Um, he's kind of this geeky, wierd guy who's really good with computers. And his friend's a kickass cop with a gun and a leather jacket and a motorcycle and she's just a million times cooler than him. But she's hotheaded. And she likes to take risks, and—"
"It sounds like you're describing a female version of Tony," Ziva observed dryly. Abby swore softly.
"This is not coming out the way I want it to. Never mind. The clam chowder is to die for."
"I think I'll stick with a salad," Ziva said, closing her menu. Abby shrugged.
"Your loss."
"Any thoughts on the case?" Ziva asked her, stacking their menus for something to do with her hands. Abby shook her head, sucking on her straw.
"We haven't been away from work more than twenty minutes and you expect me to be able to have come up with some brilliant explanation?"
Ziva shook her head. "Some people think better when not under stress."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true. And it's not like Gibbs is the grand provider of relaxation for the universe," she grinned.
"I don't know, he let's you get away with quite a bit," Ziva set aside the spoon in her teacup.
Abby grinned. "As I told McGee, that's the advantage of being me."
XXX
Author's Chapter Notes:
Part two, in which Abby kidnaps Ziva.
Chapter End Notes:
Also hints of Gibbs/Abby, but I can't select multiple pairings with my screenreader.