Therapy Time Part Five
Title: Therapy Time
Author: Spiceblueeyes
Pairing: None
Rating: R
Word Count: 20,010
Spoilers: None that I can see.
Warnings: Suicide of OC, violence, angst, brief mentions of child abuse.
Summary: The team gets a case that unsettles Tony more than he wants to admit.
Author's Notes: This is both my first ever NCIS story, and the longest story I've ever written, so I'm excited about it. The story was beta'd by devo79 who is awesome and really helped me make the story better.
Be sure to check out the totally cool art that kj_svala made for the story, she's very talented. You can find it here.
Back at NCIS Gibbs had brought in Petty Officer Alfred Morris to talk to. Since he wasn’t a suspect they had him put in the conference room instead of Interrogation. That way he would more comfortable, and less, well, interrogated. Tony caught up with Gibbs right outside the conference room.
“Hey, Boss, can I go in there with you?” Tony wanted to hear what Morris had to say first hand.
Gibbs looked at him and asked. “What did Stevens have to say?”
Tony shook his head, “she said he stopped taking her calls; and pretty much disappeared from her life. But apparently he was ‘fine.’” Tony made air quotes around the ‘fine.’ Gibbs snorted and nodded his head while he opened the door to the conference room. Tony took the nod as a “Yes, Tony, you may come in with me” and followed him.
Petty Officer Morris was already seated at the far end of the table, back to the wall and facing the door, both Tony and Gibbs noticed. He was dressed in khakis and a green polo shirt, with the standard military haircut. His eyes were alert and wary, assessing Gibbs and Tony as soon as they stepped into the room. Gibbs put a thick file down on the table and sat across from the petty officer, and Tony took the seat next to him.
“Petty officer Alfred Morris,” Gibbs started.
“Al,” the man spoke up, “you can call me Al. I never much liked Alfred.”
Gibbs nodded. “Al then. We’d like to ask you some questions about Seaman Suarez.”
Al sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I heard.”
“What did you hear?” Tony asked.
“That Rafael lost it and killed a woman.” He shook his head, “can’t believe it.” Inwardly Tony sighed, seemed like nobody could believe it. “But at the same time, I guess I can.” Tony looked at the petty officer sharply, but Gibbs said it first.
“What do you mean?”
Al ran one hand through his hair and asked, “How much do you know about what happened in Iraq?”
“We read the report,” Gibbs answered.
Tony spoke, “We know that you and Seaman Suarez were captured after he saved some of his unit, and that he was awarded a silver star for his actions.”
Al nodded, “and about the capture, how much do you know about that?”
Gibbs seemed to understand where Al was going with his questions. “We know about the torture.”
The Petty officer, Al, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “then you know it was bad.”
“Torture isn’t generally considered good.” Tony observed. Al shot him an annoyed glance.
“No, I guess it isn’t.”
Gibbs shifted and Al’s eyes went back to him. “Tell us.”
“Suarez, they weren’t gonna hurt him. They were going to hurt me, because I outranked him. They probably would have gotten to him eventually anyway, but the stupid kid-“Al stopped and looked through Gibbs for a moment, clearly not seeing the present, his jaw clenched. Then he came back and continued. “I’d been hit in the head, wasn’t really tracking things right, they didn’t make sense, everything was a little blurry.” He gestured in the air with his hands, “I guess Suarez, I don’t know, felt like I couldn’t take anymore or something.” This time his eyes clenched shut as well, and his hands balled into fists on the table. “He volunteered to take my fucking place.”
Gibbs and Tony traded glances, but didn’t say anything.
“He somehow talked them into torturing him first. I don’t even think they cared, really, I think they just thought it was funny, what he was asking. So they did.” Al shrugged a little, like his shoulders were so heavy he couldn’t lift them up all the way. “They kept asking him questions. Stupid ones. Ones they already knew the answers to, or stuff they didn’t care about. Rafael, he made them work for every answer he gave them. Stupid kid.” Al shook his head again. “I tried to tell him to just talk, tell them what they wanted, but they gagged me and trussed me up like a pig, stuck me in the corner. I could see and hear everything.” He bowed his head, “but Rafael couldn’t see me.”
Tony couldn’t imagine being in that position. Having to watch as someone was tortured, in your place. The helplessness of it, the guilt, even though it was clearly not Al’s fault. Obviously Alfred hadn’t dealt with that guilt yet.
“They laughed at him. The leader had this long scar across his face that made his mouth twist up into a half smile. He was the worst, really took a sick pleasure out of Rafeal’s screams.” Al’s voice was thick with hate. “He was a sick fuck and I still have his laugh in my head at night.”
“I thought he was going to die, that they would kill him, and then they’d do me too. And he would die without anyone knowing what a noble, heroic moron he was.” Al laughed darkly. “When they came to rescue us, God, he was such a mess. We still weren’t sure he’d make it.”
Gibbs nodded, “we read the medical report.”
“They came for us, rescued us from that hell hole. But the thing is, Agent Gibbs, is I’m not sure Rafael ever really left.” Al said bleakly.
Gibbs and Tony were back in the bull pen; Petty Officer Morris had looked like he could use a minute to get himself together after talking about those memories.
“What did he say?” Tim asked.
“Suarez convinced the terrorists to torture him instead of Morris.” Tony sat down heavily at his desk.
“Why would he do that?” McGee looked shocked, as if he couldn’t imagine asking to be tortured.
“Why do you think, Probie?” Tony’s gaze flickered meaningfully over to Gibbs and back. McGee looked thoughtful as he caught the meaning. McGee probably wasn’t sure what he would do in that situation, but Tony was. He knew he would take Gibbs place in a heartbeat; the man was the closest thing he had to a father figure. And while McGee may not be sure about himself, Tony was pretty sure that when the chips were down, McGee would be someone you could count on.
“He shouldn’t have done it.” Gibbs cut into their conversation. “It was stupid.” He glared meaningfully at them.
“Yes Boss.”
“Got it Boss.”
But Tony knew that even knowing Gibbs would hate it, he would have done the same thing Suarez did. He glanced over at Ziva and saw the same resolve in her eyes. Their Boss might not want to be looked after and protected, but he damn well would be.
“I think he was very brave.” She spoke up. Tony and McGee nodded in agreement, while Gibbs gave her the glare that would make lesser men cower in fear, but Ziva, being a woman, and decidedly not lesser, just held his gaze.
Finally Gibbs broke eye contact and got up, heading back to the conference room. “DiNozzo.”
“On your six, Boss.” Tony swiftly got up to follow him.
When they entered the conference room for the second time, Petty Officer Morris looked more composed. He had his hands folded in front of him on the table and his eyes didn’t look quite so haunted.
Gibbs and Tony sat in the same seats they were in before. “Thanks.” Morris said quietly.
“No problem.” Tony replied, sometimes you just needed a minute. “So can you explain what you meant before?”
Al nodded. “We were sent back to the States together, you know? He was worse off than me by far. I didn’t spend more than a few days in the hospital before they let me go and referred me to a shrink.” Al grimaced, “I’m not exactly sure how long Rafael was there though. I went to visit him a few times, but, not as often as I should have.” Morris laughed a little, “Shrink says I was mad at him for getting tortured; and feeling guilty about it at the same time.” He shook his head. “I didn’t need a shrink to tell me that. It’s no excuse though; I should have visited him more.”
Before Morris could get lost in self-recriminations Gibbs asked, “What did he do when he got out?”
Al shrugged one of his shoulders and ran his hand back and forth through his hair. “I don’t know. For a while I didn’t look for him. I should have, no excuse, but I didn’t. Then when I finally did, it seemed like no one had heard from him in a while. So I went to his place, just showed up at his door.” A puzzled frown and a crinkled forehead appeared on his face, “he seemed, off somehow. Like, I don’t know, he was trying too hard. He was smiling and cracking jokes, like always, but it was forced you know? And he was jumpy. Not so much but I could tell he was anxious about something. He wanted me outta there.” He rested his elbows on the table and cradled his head. “So I left. I thought that, maybe, he was angry as hell at me about what happened, mad that I let him do that. I figured he had every right to be mad at me.”
Clearly, despite the therapy, Morris was still blaming himself. It made Tony wonder what Suarez was carrying around inside his head. “Do you know if he ever saw a psychiatrist?” Tony asked.
“Ah, no idea. The hospital probably told him he should, like they told me, but I don’t know if he ever went or not.” Al sat up straight. “I can give you the contact info for the guy the recommended to me. You could see if he ever went.”
“That’d be useful.” Gibbs produced a pad of paper and a pen from somewhere and slid it across the table. Morris picked up the pen and started writing. When he finished he slid the paper back over toward Gibbs.
“Thank you for coming in to talk to us.” Tony said, pushing back his chair and standing up. He reached out his hand to shake and Morris took it.
“It was the least I could do. I let that boy down.” Neither Tony or Gibbs made any indication of whether they thought that was right or not. Tony didn’t think Morris had much responsibility, but he knew Gibbs’ sense of honor and his strong view of what the Chain of Command meant would make him see it differently. They escorted him out of the room and to the elevator. Morris’ face was one of weariness as the elevator doors closed.
The silence in the bull pen was loud with each team member’s brain trying to process the fact that their cold-blooded murderer was also an idiotic but lion-hearted kid. “Boss?”
“Yeah DiNozzo?” Gibbs looked up from his screen and took a sip of his ever present cup of coffee.
“I’m going down to talk to Ducky.” Gibbs nodded his permission and Tony left.
He took the elevator down to autopsy and walked in through the sliding doors. He found Ducky, Palmer, and Abby all having lunch. They were sitting around an autopsy table with their food in front of them chatting away. A few feet over a dead body was laid out on another table. Tony shuddered. He loved them, but they were weird.
He walked up behind Abby and tugged at one of her pigtails. She squealed and spun around, “Tony!”
“Hello my dear boy; and how are you today?” Duck smiled.
“Hey Tony.” Palmer greeted him too.
“Hey guys. You do know that eating right next to a corpse is probably a health code violation. Not to mention totally creepy.” Tony gave a mock shudder.
They all laughed. “Lighten up, Tony. It’s not like John Doe over there minds.” Abby said, she leaned over and addressed the corpse, “do you?”
“Hookay Abs, whatever you say.” Tony shook his head in amused tolerance.
“So what brings you down here Anthony, since it is obviously not a wish to dine with the dead?” Ducky asked, bringing a napkin up to wipe his mouth, though there wasn’t anything on it.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you Ducky. I was hoping you could do your psychological autopsy thing with our murderer. See what you come up with.”
“I surely can my boy. I shall need the photos from his residence, along with his file, and anything else you have.”
“No problem, I brought it all down with me.” Tony held up a thick file in front of him. Ducky waved him over and took the file from his hands. Abby and palmer cleared the food and all the various packages that it came in off of the table so that Ducky would have room to spread the papers out. “The information that Suarez’s friends are giving us isn't matching up with what he did. We're missing something.” Tony had a theory in mind, but he needed someone with more psychological background to verify it.
“Well, this may take me a while. I’ll call you as soon as I think I’ve found anything.”
Tony nodded and headed out. “Hey Tony,” Abby called out. “Have you talked to Suarez’s doctor yet?”
“No, but that’s a good idea, I’ll do that today.” He tipped an imaginary hat at her and smirked. She stood up and curtsied with her black knee-length skirt, the chains clinking together as she did.
Palmer tried to hide his smile by ducking his head, and laughed. Abby looked at him, “What? I’m a lady.” She said seriously.
“Yeah, but you look like-“He stopped when he saw the look on Abby’s face.
“Look like what?” She demanded, stepping closer to loom over him because in her black platform boots she was taller.
“Um, nothing, I, um, didn’t mean…” He fumbled for words and his face turned pale.
Ducky chuckled, “Mr. Palmer has managed to stick his foot in it.” He put his hand on Abby’s shoulder. “But he means well, leave the poor boy alone.”
She turned to look at Ducky and her face went from glowering to her typical sunny smile in an instant.
“I know; I just like watching his face turn that shade of white” she said with a impish glow in her eyes. Tony waited until he was in the hallway to start laughing. Abby was like a cat playing with a mouse, Palmer was out of his depth with her, it was hilarious.
He was still chuckling when he got back to the bull pen. “What is so funny?” Ziva asked. McGee was looking over curiously as well.
“Abby just scared the autopsy gremlin out of two years of his life.” He sat down, shaking his head.
“That’s our Abby.” Tim said, with pride in his voice. Gibbs didn’t give any indication that he was listening, but a small quirk of his lips gave him away.
“Boss, I think I should go talk to Suarez’s doctor.” Tony told Gibbs. Gibbs considered it, and then nodded.
“Okay Tony. McGee, go with him.”
“Okay Boss.” McGee acknowledged. Tony started packing up his stuff, but Tim was still typing at his computer.
Gibbs looked him. “Now McGee!” He barked.
McGee jumped, “yes Boss, coming Boss.” He jumped out of his seat like it burned him and grabbed his own pack. They headed out, McGee trailing behind Tony as they walked toward the elevator. When the doors closed Tim rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to finish what I was doing; I only needed a few more second.”
“Probie, Probie, Probie.” He clapped a hand on Tim’s back. “Gibbs doesn’t care.”
Tony drove to the hospital since the ‘I’m the senior field agent therefore I get to drive’ strategy that didn’t work with Ziva had McGee handing over the keys with only an eye roll.
On To Part Six
Author: Spiceblueeyes
Pairing: None
Rating: R
Word Count: 20,010
Spoilers: None that I can see.
Warnings: Suicide of OC, violence, angst, brief mentions of child abuse.
Summary: The team gets a case that unsettles Tony more than he wants to admit.
Author's Notes: This is both my first ever NCIS story, and the longest story I've ever written, so I'm excited about it. The story was beta'd by devo79 who is awesome and really helped me make the story better.
Be sure to check out the totally cool art that kj_svala made for the story, she's very talented. You can find it here.
Back at NCIS Gibbs had brought in Petty Officer Alfred Morris to talk to. Since he wasn’t a suspect they had him put in the conference room instead of Interrogation. That way he would more comfortable, and less, well, interrogated. Tony caught up with Gibbs right outside the conference room.
“Hey, Boss, can I go in there with you?” Tony wanted to hear what Morris had to say first hand.
Gibbs looked at him and asked. “What did Stevens have to say?”
Tony shook his head, “she said he stopped taking her calls; and pretty much disappeared from her life. But apparently he was ‘fine.’” Tony made air quotes around the ‘fine.’ Gibbs snorted and nodded his head while he opened the door to the conference room. Tony took the nod as a “Yes, Tony, you may come in with me” and followed him.
Petty Officer Morris was already seated at the far end of the table, back to the wall and facing the door, both Tony and Gibbs noticed. He was dressed in khakis and a green polo shirt, with the standard military haircut. His eyes were alert and wary, assessing Gibbs and Tony as soon as they stepped into the room. Gibbs put a thick file down on the table and sat across from the petty officer, and Tony took the seat next to him.
“Petty officer Alfred Morris,” Gibbs started.
“Al,” the man spoke up, “you can call me Al. I never much liked Alfred.”
Gibbs nodded. “Al then. We’d like to ask you some questions about Seaman Suarez.”
Al sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I heard.”
“What did you hear?” Tony asked.
“That Rafael lost it and killed a woman.” He shook his head, “can’t believe it.” Inwardly Tony sighed, seemed like nobody could believe it. “But at the same time, I guess I can.” Tony looked at the petty officer sharply, but Gibbs said it first.
“What do you mean?”
Al ran one hand through his hair and asked, “How much do you know about what happened in Iraq?”
“We read the report,” Gibbs answered.
Tony spoke, “We know that you and Seaman Suarez were captured after he saved some of his unit, and that he was awarded a silver star for his actions.”
Al nodded, “and about the capture, how much do you know about that?”
Gibbs seemed to understand where Al was going with his questions. “We know about the torture.”
The Petty officer, Al, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “then you know it was bad.”
“Torture isn’t generally considered good.” Tony observed. Al shot him an annoyed glance.
“No, I guess it isn’t.”
Gibbs shifted and Al’s eyes went back to him. “Tell us.”
“Suarez, they weren’t gonna hurt him. They were going to hurt me, because I outranked him. They probably would have gotten to him eventually anyway, but the stupid kid-“Al stopped and looked through Gibbs for a moment, clearly not seeing the present, his jaw clenched. Then he came back and continued. “I’d been hit in the head, wasn’t really tracking things right, they didn’t make sense, everything was a little blurry.” He gestured in the air with his hands, “I guess Suarez, I don’t know, felt like I couldn’t take anymore or something.” This time his eyes clenched shut as well, and his hands balled into fists on the table. “He volunteered to take my fucking place.”
Gibbs and Tony traded glances, but didn’t say anything.
“He somehow talked them into torturing him first. I don’t even think they cared, really, I think they just thought it was funny, what he was asking. So they did.” Al shrugged a little, like his shoulders were so heavy he couldn’t lift them up all the way. “They kept asking him questions. Stupid ones. Ones they already knew the answers to, or stuff they didn’t care about. Rafael, he made them work for every answer he gave them. Stupid kid.” Al shook his head again. “I tried to tell him to just talk, tell them what they wanted, but they gagged me and trussed me up like a pig, stuck me in the corner. I could see and hear everything.” He bowed his head, “but Rafael couldn’t see me.”
Tony couldn’t imagine being in that position. Having to watch as someone was tortured, in your place. The helplessness of it, the guilt, even though it was clearly not Al’s fault. Obviously Alfred hadn’t dealt with that guilt yet.
“They laughed at him. The leader had this long scar across his face that made his mouth twist up into a half smile. He was the worst, really took a sick pleasure out of Rafeal’s screams.” Al’s voice was thick with hate. “He was a sick fuck and I still have his laugh in my head at night.”
“I thought he was going to die, that they would kill him, and then they’d do me too. And he would die without anyone knowing what a noble, heroic moron he was.” Al laughed darkly. “When they came to rescue us, God, he was such a mess. We still weren’t sure he’d make it.”
Gibbs nodded, “we read the medical report.”
“They came for us, rescued us from that hell hole. But the thing is, Agent Gibbs, is I’m not sure Rafael ever really left.” Al said bleakly.
Gibbs and Tony were back in the bull pen; Petty Officer Morris had looked like he could use a minute to get himself together after talking about those memories.
“What did he say?” Tim asked.
“Suarez convinced the terrorists to torture him instead of Morris.” Tony sat down heavily at his desk.
“Why would he do that?” McGee looked shocked, as if he couldn’t imagine asking to be tortured.
“Why do you think, Probie?” Tony’s gaze flickered meaningfully over to Gibbs and back. McGee looked thoughtful as he caught the meaning. McGee probably wasn’t sure what he would do in that situation, but Tony was. He knew he would take Gibbs place in a heartbeat; the man was the closest thing he had to a father figure. And while McGee may not be sure about himself, Tony was pretty sure that when the chips were down, McGee would be someone you could count on.
“He shouldn’t have done it.” Gibbs cut into their conversation. “It was stupid.” He glared meaningfully at them.
“Yes Boss.”
“Got it Boss.”
But Tony knew that even knowing Gibbs would hate it, he would have done the same thing Suarez did. He glanced over at Ziva and saw the same resolve in her eyes. Their Boss might not want to be looked after and protected, but he damn well would be.
“I think he was very brave.” She spoke up. Tony and McGee nodded in agreement, while Gibbs gave her the glare that would make lesser men cower in fear, but Ziva, being a woman, and decidedly not lesser, just held his gaze.
Finally Gibbs broke eye contact and got up, heading back to the conference room. “DiNozzo.”
“On your six, Boss.” Tony swiftly got up to follow him.
When they entered the conference room for the second time, Petty Officer Morris looked more composed. He had his hands folded in front of him on the table and his eyes didn’t look quite so haunted.
Gibbs and Tony sat in the same seats they were in before. “Thanks.” Morris said quietly.
“No problem.” Tony replied, sometimes you just needed a minute. “So can you explain what you meant before?”
Al nodded. “We were sent back to the States together, you know? He was worse off than me by far. I didn’t spend more than a few days in the hospital before they let me go and referred me to a shrink.” Al grimaced, “I’m not exactly sure how long Rafael was there though. I went to visit him a few times, but, not as often as I should have.” Morris laughed a little, “Shrink says I was mad at him for getting tortured; and feeling guilty about it at the same time.” He shook his head. “I didn’t need a shrink to tell me that. It’s no excuse though; I should have visited him more.”
Before Morris could get lost in self-recriminations Gibbs asked, “What did he do when he got out?”
Al shrugged one of his shoulders and ran his hand back and forth through his hair. “I don’t know. For a while I didn’t look for him. I should have, no excuse, but I didn’t. Then when I finally did, it seemed like no one had heard from him in a while. So I went to his place, just showed up at his door.” A puzzled frown and a crinkled forehead appeared on his face, “he seemed, off somehow. Like, I don’t know, he was trying too hard. He was smiling and cracking jokes, like always, but it was forced you know? And he was jumpy. Not so much but I could tell he was anxious about something. He wanted me outta there.” He rested his elbows on the table and cradled his head. “So I left. I thought that, maybe, he was angry as hell at me about what happened, mad that I let him do that. I figured he had every right to be mad at me.”
Clearly, despite the therapy, Morris was still blaming himself. It made Tony wonder what Suarez was carrying around inside his head. “Do you know if he ever saw a psychiatrist?” Tony asked.
“Ah, no idea. The hospital probably told him he should, like they told me, but I don’t know if he ever went or not.” Al sat up straight. “I can give you the contact info for the guy the recommended to me. You could see if he ever went.”
“That’d be useful.” Gibbs produced a pad of paper and a pen from somewhere and slid it across the table. Morris picked up the pen and started writing. When he finished he slid the paper back over toward Gibbs.
“Thank you for coming in to talk to us.” Tony said, pushing back his chair and standing up. He reached out his hand to shake and Morris took it.
“It was the least I could do. I let that boy down.” Neither Tony or Gibbs made any indication of whether they thought that was right or not. Tony didn’t think Morris had much responsibility, but he knew Gibbs’ sense of honor and his strong view of what the Chain of Command meant would make him see it differently. They escorted him out of the room and to the elevator. Morris’ face was one of weariness as the elevator doors closed.
The silence in the bull pen was loud with each team member’s brain trying to process the fact that their cold-blooded murderer was also an idiotic but lion-hearted kid. “Boss?”
“Yeah DiNozzo?” Gibbs looked up from his screen and took a sip of his ever present cup of coffee.
“I’m going down to talk to Ducky.” Gibbs nodded his permission and Tony left.
He took the elevator down to autopsy and walked in through the sliding doors. He found Ducky, Palmer, and Abby all having lunch. They were sitting around an autopsy table with their food in front of them chatting away. A few feet over a dead body was laid out on another table. Tony shuddered. He loved them, but they were weird.
He walked up behind Abby and tugged at one of her pigtails. She squealed and spun around, “Tony!”
“Hello my dear boy; and how are you today?” Duck smiled.
“Hey Tony.” Palmer greeted him too.
“Hey guys. You do know that eating right next to a corpse is probably a health code violation. Not to mention totally creepy.” Tony gave a mock shudder.
They all laughed. “Lighten up, Tony. It’s not like John Doe over there minds.” Abby said, she leaned over and addressed the corpse, “do you?”
“Hookay Abs, whatever you say.” Tony shook his head in amused tolerance.
“So what brings you down here Anthony, since it is obviously not a wish to dine with the dead?” Ducky asked, bringing a napkin up to wipe his mouth, though there wasn’t anything on it.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you Ducky. I was hoping you could do your psychological autopsy thing with our murderer. See what you come up with.”
“I surely can my boy. I shall need the photos from his residence, along with his file, and anything else you have.”
“No problem, I brought it all down with me.” Tony held up a thick file in front of him. Ducky waved him over and took the file from his hands. Abby and palmer cleared the food and all the various packages that it came in off of the table so that Ducky would have room to spread the papers out. “The information that Suarez’s friends are giving us isn't matching up with what he did. We're missing something.” Tony had a theory in mind, but he needed someone with more psychological background to verify it.
“Well, this may take me a while. I’ll call you as soon as I think I’ve found anything.”
Tony nodded and headed out. “Hey Tony,” Abby called out. “Have you talked to Suarez’s doctor yet?”
“No, but that’s a good idea, I’ll do that today.” He tipped an imaginary hat at her and smirked. She stood up and curtsied with her black knee-length skirt, the chains clinking together as she did.
Palmer tried to hide his smile by ducking his head, and laughed. Abby looked at him, “What? I’m a lady.” She said seriously.
“Yeah, but you look like-“He stopped when he saw the look on Abby’s face.
“Look like what?” She demanded, stepping closer to loom over him because in her black platform boots she was taller.
“Um, nothing, I, um, didn’t mean…” He fumbled for words and his face turned pale.
Ducky chuckled, “Mr. Palmer has managed to stick his foot in it.” He put his hand on Abby’s shoulder. “But he means well, leave the poor boy alone.”
She turned to look at Ducky and her face went from glowering to her typical sunny smile in an instant.
“I know; I just like watching his face turn that shade of white” she said with a impish glow in her eyes. Tony waited until he was in the hallway to start laughing. Abby was like a cat playing with a mouse, Palmer was out of his depth with her, it was hilarious.
He was still chuckling when he got back to the bull pen. “What is so funny?” Ziva asked. McGee was looking over curiously as well.
“Abby just scared the autopsy gremlin out of two years of his life.” He sat down, shaking his head.
“That’s our Abby.” Tim said, with pride in his voice. Gibbs didn’t give any indication that he was listening, but a small quirk of his lips gave him away.
“Boss, I think I should go talk to Suarez’s doctor.” Tony told Gibbs. Gibbs considered it, and then nodded.
“Okay Tony. McGee, go with him.”
“Okay Boss.” McGee acknowledged. Tony started packing up his stuff, but Tim was still typing at his computer.
Gibbs looked him. “Now McGee!” He barked.
McGee jumped, “yes Boss, coming Boss.” He jumped out of his seat like it burned him and grabbed his own pack. They headed out, McGee trailing behind Tony as they walked toward the elevator. When the doors closed Tim rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to finish what I was doing; I only needed a few more second.”
“Probie, Probie, Probie.” He clapped a hand on Tim’s back. “Gibbs doesn’t care.”
Tony drove to the hospital since the ‘I’m the senior field agent therefore I get to drive’ strategy that didn’t work with Ziva had McGee handing over the keys with only an eye roll.
On To Part Six