Gibbs forced himself to back off the accelerator, keeping the car's speed only a little above the posted limit. Driving cautiously wasn't something he was used to doing and it took more effort to maintain a sedate pace than he expected. But Tony had been sleeping soundly for the last half hour and Gibbs was hoping he'd sleep all the way back to the office. For that to happen, he couldn't drive at the same break-neck, reckless speed he usually did.
What sleep he got would be little more than a catnap. Hardly enough to make up for an entire night without sleep for most people, but for Tony it would be sufficient. Gibbs had seen him do it many times before.
Not long after he started working at NCIS, Tony mentioned the benefits of meditation and power naps. Gibbs had thought it was all just bullshit, a way to justify sleeping on the job. And he made damn sure Tony knew his feelings about goofing off on Gibbs' time. It was the third case they worked together that changed his mind.
The case involved the kidnapping of a little girl, time had been of the essence, and they hadn't clocked out for three solid days. During the slow moments when there was nothing more to do than wait, Gibbs had tried to send Tony home to get some rest. The younger man refused, just settling in at his desk to take brief naps. He never slept for more than forty-five minutes. And that was all he seemed to need to keep up with Gibbs.
After that Gibbs' investigative nature got the better of him. And he began unconsciously testing the limits of Tony's endurance. Tony was easily good for an all nighter, but he needed a pick me up to stay sharp. Hardly a shortcoming Gibbs could find fault with since coffee had been a mainstay for him for years for the same reason. But for Tony it was caffeine and sugar; less caffeine that Gibbs thought possible and more sugar than he thought practical, but it worked. When that wasn't enough, some down time was needed...usually when Tony had been up for thirty six to forty hours. Gibbs' own limit was closer to three full days.
Curiosity had made him study Tony's napping behavior, something he'd selfishly justified at the time as a need to know the younger man's limits as an agent rather than admit to being truly concerned for his well being. Gibbs found that less than twenty minutes wasn't enough to recharge Tony's batteries, meaning he'd need another nap in five hours or less to continue functioning at even close to ordinary. More than an hour was too long, making Tony more groggy and sluggish than when he'd closed his eyes. Something in between seemed to work the best.
Gibbs wasn't sure if Tony consciously knew his own limitations. He suspected the younger man had no idea because it seemed more instinctive than intentional on his part. He simply kept going until he ran out of steam and rested for as long as he thought he could get away with.
Even when not working on a case, neither of them slept the solid eight hours most people considered normal. The only time Gibbs could really remember either of them sleeping deeply for long was at Tony's cabin. The quiet, semi-isolation naturally encouraged them both to relax and unwind.
He glanced over when Tony shifted in his seat, stretching and clearly wide awake. Gibbs grimaced internally, checking the clock. Thirty-five minutes. He was hoping Tony would sleep for longer but hadn't honestly expected him too.
"The sandwich on top is yours," Gibbs nodded toward the brown bag on the seat between them. He'd learned that stopping the car wouldn't necessarily wake Tony, but turning it off always did. So when he'd spotted a 'Manhattan Bagel' shop on the way back to the office, Gibbs had pulled in, left the car running and grabbed what he thought the others would like for lunch. Tony and Abby's favorites he knew; McGee and Ziva he guessed at.
"Thanks, Boss." Tony tore into his sandwich with undisguised enthusiasm.
Gibbs pulled a bottle of sickeningly sweet fruit juice from the cup holder and offered it to Tony. He wasn't sure when the younger man started favoring this papaya, strawberry and kiwi blended crap but Gibbs figured Ducky would approve since it was about as close at Tony came to eating fresh fruit on a daily basis. And it had to be better for him than the five or six sugar packets he would dump into his coffee.
Gibbs kept his attention focused on the road, not wanting to see the muscles of Tony's throat work as he finished the bottle in three long swallows. Why the younger man couldn't just sip that stuff was something he couldn't bring himself to ask. It came too close to revealing the effect Tony's actions had on Gibbs.
"Any word from McGee?" Tony asked toying with the now empty bottle.
Gibbs grimaced. "No."
"I've heard no news is good news."
Gibbs snorted. 'Never known that to be true."
"Yeah, me either." Tony sighed. "Makes me wonder why people say it."
"It's another of those useless platitudes." Gibbs rolled his eyes. There were a lot of those people liked to use. They were essentially meaningless, but they gave people something to say in times of stress when silence was so pressing it made saying anything seem like a good idea, no matter how stupid or inane.
Gibbs once more fought the urge to push the accelerator to the floor. Tony had just eaten. He'd need a few minutes for the rapidly consumed food and drink to settle or he'd puke. Gibbs didn't relish the idea of vomit in the car. Getting back to the office sooner wouldn't make McGee work any faster; it would only make him nervous.
"You eat anything?" Tony asked, riffling through the bag on the seat, grinning when he pulled out a large chocolate chip cookie.
"Had a sandwich," Gibbs told him. The rest of the team might think he ran on coffee alone, but Tony knew better.
"Want half my cookie?"
"Sure.: Gibbs grinned, taking the half Tony offered. "Not as good as Mike?s," he noted after eating it, knowing he sounded disappointed.
"Never are." Tony shrugged one shoulder. "But it'll do in a pinch."
"You ask him to send us more cookies?" Gibbs had eaten most of the tin Mike sent home with them after Christmas. He didn't think of those as 'junk food' or being nothing but sugar...no, Mike's cookies were just too good to be anything but an absolute necessity.
Tony shook his head. "Asked for caramel brownies this time." He gave Gibbs a sly look. The brownies were even better than Mike's chocolate chip cookies, and were definitely Gibbs favorite. "Means you're the one who has to come up with something for him to give Heather in trade."
Gibbs grimaced. He knew Mike would make anything Tony asked for, just because Tony asked, but Tony often felt it necessary to give something in return. Since finding out that Heather, the young woman Mike had been dating exclusively for the last two months, had a sweet tooth that rivaled his own, Tony sent delicacies that were hard to find in rural Virginia. Things like Godiva Chocolate Truffles, fudge from the Fudge Factory, and Jelly Belly jelly beans.
"Why can't she just be happy with the stuff Mike makes," Gibbs grumbled under his breath.
"Because...unlike us, she can get that any time." Tony chuckled. "Something special makes it look like Mike went out of his way. Put forth some effort to make her happy."
Gibbs arched an eyebrow. "Baking is an effort."
Tony held up both hands, palms out in surrender. "Not disagreeing, just explaining the logic."
"Suggestions?"
"I'm not telling you what to send." Tony shook his head. "That would be cheating."
"I'd help you out."
"Like you helped the last time?" Tony rolled his eyes. "Pleease. We both now that doesn?t qualify as help."
The shrill ring of Gibbs' cell phone cut off his protest before he could even begin. It was probably just as well since he knew his argument would be a weak one anyway. His ideas, at the time, were intended to be funny and to tease Tony, each one more outlandish and inappropriate than the last. They weren't meant to be taken seriously, nor were they, and while they'd both had a good time laughing, he should have known Tony would call him on trying to lay claim to any serious offer of assistance.
"Gibbs," he barked into his phone.
"Boss, I got something."
The excitement in McGee's voice nearly vibrated through the phone. Gibbs waited a beat and then snarled, "Are you going to make me guess? Or are you going to give it to me?"
"R..ri..right." McGee cleared his throat. "?Warren spent some of the money on real estate. Three different properties that I've found so far. The name on each deed is holding company with only one stock holder listed."
"Earl Kinsac."
"How did you...never mind," McGee muttered, making Gibbs smile. He didn't always steal their thunder on purpose, but it could be so much fun.
"Any of those properties within an easy drive for Warren?"
"Only one." McGee spit out the address in staccato fashion as though afraid he couldn?t speak fast enough to suit Gibbs.
"Get a team out--"
"Already sent a team out to keep an eye on the place and be on the lookout for Warren." McGee interrupted. "But I don't think that's where he went."
"Why?"
"So far the money trail I've managed to track is all at one bank. Not a single branch within twenty miles of the townhouse. And if he's going to get anything out of the last two years and run with it, it has to be cash."
"Explain." Gibbs ordered.
"Everything I've found so far seems indicate Warren was planning long term. Given how well he hid his tracks and the relatively small amounts he was stealing, he could have kept at it right up until he retired without anyone being any wiser. Most of the money was invested in things...primarily bonds and real estate. Not liquid stuff. It would take time to sell those things and turn them back into ready capital."
"McGee is right," Tony said surprising Gibbs. He hadn't even realized Tony could hear McGee, but given how good he knew the younger man's hearing was, Gibbs shouldn't have been surprised. Gibbs looked askance at Tony, giving him the floor to explain what he meant, holding the phone away from his ear so that McGee could hear as well.
"If he was in it for a fast buck and ready to be gone, he'd have taken it all in one go and not bothered with the rest. Instead, he opted to take lesser amounts and invest it in things with a guaranteed rate of return; the kind that take years to recoup the initial investment." Tony frowned thoughtfully. "If he's that cautious, then probably enough to keep a portion in ready cash just to be on the safe side."
"You hear all that, McGee?"
"Yes, Boss." Gibbs would hear McGee typing. "What I've been able to locate that he invested is less than a quarter of what I can confirm was taken."
"So where the hell is the rest of it?"
"I don't know." McGee's frustration was obvious.
"Find out." Gibbs growled, killing the connection.
"Little harsh there, Boss."
Gibbs sighed, fingers flexing as he clenched the steering wheel. He knew it wasn't McGee?s fault. "I'm not going to apologize."
"Didn't say you should." Tony laid one hand on Gibbs' shoulder, squeezing once. "Just don't think you need to snap at him any more to get him to do his best. He is doing it now."
"I know."
Tony nodded, accepting Gibbs' acknowledgement, not pushing for more. "So?now what?"
"We regroup at the office." Gibbs was hoping a review of what they already knew might spark a new avenue of inquiry.
"Campfire," Tony murmured, with a small smile, green eyes bright and eager.
"Well, hell, it worked for you last night, didn't it?" Gibbs gave Tony a quick grin. "Let's see if lightning strikes twice."
"If it does, I'm buying a lottery ticket."
"Why?"
Tony laughed. "Because solving two cases in two days is one hell of a lucky streak."
It was on the tip of Gibbs tongue to say that wasn't luck, it was skill. But the faintly superstitious part of himself that he liked to keep hidden kept him from saying anything. If luck was involved, he didn't want to risk jinxing it. So he just nodded and floored the gas pedal. And at this point, he?d take all the help they could get to solve this one.
Author's Chapter Notes:
more on the case