commentfic for beaverstate
Here's the first of the comment-fics...
Timing
"You," Methos tells the corpse sourly, "are going to be more trouble than you're worth. I just know it." The corpse doesn't answer. They never do -- though in this case, that will change soon enough. Hence Methos, attempting to covertly remove six feet and a hundred and eighty pounds of quite literally dead weight from a secure and guarded federal building, and almost certainly bringing an end to a life with which he's just beginning to feel comfortable in the bargain. It's still better than the alternatives. If Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo recovers from his first death in Dr. Mallard's morgue, the fallout will be epic. As it is, Methos plans on their being as far from NCIS as he can get them by the time that anyone -- especially Agent Gibbs -- notices that DiNozzo's body has gone missing.
"You're lucky I'm not willing to risk exposing all of us," Methos continues, breath coming shorter as he moves DiNozzo from the autopsy table to the waiting gurney. "Good god, man, what have you been eating?" He shakes his head at the corpse. "I don't do altruism, you know," he informs it. "Not even a little bit. If it were even remotely possible, I'd leave you to the confusion and the unanswerable questions in which Gibbs would drown you the instant you opened your eyes." He pulls a sheet over DiNozzo, hiding the mess that two nine millimeter slugs at close range had made of the man's chest. "Why did you have to be a federal agent anyway?" he grouses.
He'd known from the look on Dr. Mallard's face that something had gone very badly wrong indeed, but hadn't believed that he himself would be affected until he'd seen DiNozzo's body wheeled in, and the pre-Immortal he'd been avoiding became the Immortal that had to be gotten out of NCIS immediately. Ducky is upstairs with Gibbs and his team, and hopefully their shared grief will give Methos the time he needs to get both DiNozzo and himself safely away without attracting attention. There is nothing he can do about the security cameras, which is why Michael Reynolds' sojurn through medical school is about to come to as abrupt an end as did Anthony DiNozzo's life.
"It would have been easier to smuggle you out of Fort Knox," he mutters, poking his head out the doors of the morgue to be sure that the coast is clear. "You couldn't have just stayed alive for five more years, could you?" He pushes the button for the basement, the worst of the tension slipping from his shoulders as the doors slide shut. Pulling back the sheet, he checks on DiNozzo's wounds. They're starting to heal around the edges, but with luck they should at least be out of the building before he revives. He leaves the man's face uncovered when he pulls the sheet back up. Waking up under one of those is a trauma that DiNozzo doesn't need.
The doors slide open, and Methos steps out of the elevator, looking around cautiously before grabbing the gurney and pulling it along behind him. The hallway remains silent, save for the rattle of the gurney's wheels, and Methos is soon fishing his key-ring out of his pocket. It takes him a moment to find the right one for the back door -- he's only ever investigated this exit, never used it.
"It won't be long now," he tells DiNozzo. He fell into the habit of talking to the dead while riding with Kronos, and it's never left him. Hearing Ducky do the same had been jarring. "We're almost home free."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
Methos manages to stop himself from reaching for a weapon, but can't stop his hand from sliding towards one. When he turns around, Special Agent Gibbs is standing between him and the elevator. One of the man's hands is resting very deliberately on the butt of his service weapon, and he is wearing the coldest expression that Methos has seen on a mortal face in centuries. Methos leaves his keys in the door and lifts both hands slowly, palms out. If he is not very careful, NCIS will end up witnessing two Immortal revivals instead of one.
"You want to explain yourself, Mr. Reynolds?" Gibbs isn't asking, and beneath the icy calm of his voice there is a simmering edge of fury that will be volcanic when it finally ignites. For the first time in decades, Methos is drawing a blank. He can't think of a single good reason to be removing DiNozzo's corpse; can't think of anything to say that won't end with him dead on the floor or upstairs in an interrogation room. Gibbs is too far away to reach without getting shot for his pains.
Methos takes a deep breath, preparatory to saying -- well, he's really not sure what -- but before he can speak, the jarring vibration of DiNozzo's newly-awakened Quickening surges like a tidal wave through his mind, leaving him slightly dizzy. The first gasp of returning life seems as loud as a gunshot in the quiet hallway, as DiNozzo, with impeccable -- or impeccably appalling -- timing, sits up on the gurney.
"Boss?" he asks, wide-eyed, one hand going to his once-ruined chest. "What the hell is going on?!?"
***
Notes: For beaverstate; thank you for the prompt! Thanks also to the lovely marauderswolf and the lovely morgynleri, both of whom were kind enough to look over this for me before I posted it.