His fingers tapped relaxedly on the roof, keeping time with the guitar's strumming resounding out from the tiny speakers. His head bopped quickly and softly along with his fingers, his eyes coursing the road outside as he hummed the riff from the song blaring over the sound of the pouring rain.

"Bah bah bah bah bah bahda de dah de dah. Here comes Jonny in again... with the liquor and drugs..."

Tony leant over and forcefully flicked a button on the radio.

McGee's karaoke whittled on for a few seconds before he realised he had just lost his back up music. "Hey!" he said. "I was listening to that."

"Iggy Pop doesn't suit you, McGeek," Tony said, beginning to tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the sounds of the Pearl Jam song now wafting through the car. "Trainspotting, though... great movie," he continued absentmindedly.

McGee scoffed under his breath. He leant over and flicked it back. The sounds of Eddie Veder's gravely drawls blurred back into Iggy's. "Well, I'm just a modern guy..." McGee began once more.

"Hey!" Tony shouted. "Senior Field Agent!" He pointed to himself.

"I don't remember reading in the guideline manual that seniority in the field allowed for musical preference during transportation, Tony."

"Well, then read it again, Probie," Tony said, before flicking it back and breaking into a whining imitation of the guitar solo.

McGee licked his lips anxiously, then reached out and flicked it again. Tony quickly dropped his own hand from the steering wheel and turned it back. McGee repeated. Tony again. McGee again. Tony again. McGee again.

"God, would one of you just pick something!" a voice came from the behind them.

"Hey, you in the back seat, shut up!" Tony said, looking into the rear view mirror. "You are suspected of domestic terrorism and transportation of illicit weaponry. You have no say in the choice of music."

The man seated in the back seat rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his cuffs.

"Tony, I don't think you should be communicating with the suspe . . . "

"Probie! One more word and the Spice Girls are hitting the airwaves."

"Tony, I have a little sister. My ears have built up a tolerance."

Tony glared at him as he braked the car abruptly to a stop at the red light ahead.

"Fine," McGee said, relaxing after the jolt. "I don't mind Pearl Jam anyway."

Tony narrowed his eyes before turning them back to the radio. He pressed another button and another song began to play.

McGee looked to his side and groaned. "Tony, come on. Seriously."

Tony had a large grin plastered across his face as his lips began to synch with the singer's. "Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you..."

McGee's eyes rolled back and his head thudded against the headrest. Tony was still grinning from ear to ear. "I said I gave up, Tony. I left it on Pearl Jam."

"Music in the car's no fun unless it's causing one of the occupants discomfort, McGee."

"You're causing me discomfort," the suspect said from the back seat.

"Hey!" Tony threw a threatening finger toward the rear view mirror. "What did I say?" He proceeded to turn his attention back to the road before honking the horn loudly. "Come on, mate, light's green!"

McGee flicked the switch on the radio once more in Tony's distraction. Tony turned to him and growled deeply before turning his focus back to the truck in front of them, "The light's not getting any greener, man!" The horn sounded again. "Come on, what's your problem?"

The windscreen wipers continued to scrape and squeeze across the window, tiny drops of water pelting down in their wake. Tony beeped the horn once more, leaving his hand in place for a little longer than necessary.

"Tony!" McGee yelled, pulling his partner's hand from the horn. "He's probably on his cell or something. Just wait a moment."

Tony opened his mouth to send him back a witty reply before he was abruptly cut off by the sound of crunching metal ahead of them. The two agents looked out into the rain and onto the van in front to see its two rain-slicked back doors rip open.

"What the..." McGee began.

Four men in dark jumpsuits jumped from inside. Each was holding a semi-automatic.

"Holy shi - - " Tony growled, before he was interrupted by a hail of gunfire. "McGee, get down!" He slammed his foot down on the accelerator. "Hold on!" He could hear the car begin to rip at the slick tarmac beneath the tyres, desperately clutching for friction before it lurched into motion and began screeching forwards. The car slammed into the back of the van, crushing one of the attackers against it. McGee felt his head slam into the corner between the side window and windscreen.

The three other men in black had scattered to the side and continued firing.

"Back! Go back!" McGee shouted, wincing in pain.

"Easy, McGee!" Tony shouted back. He clutched at the gearstick once more, ripping it backward into reverse and pressing his foot back down on the accelerator.

McGee reflexively slid down further down into his seat as he heard the fire of bullets begin to smash and crack closer against the glass and metal of the car. He felt one rip through the glass and tear right by his ear.

It was then that he heard the loud crack of a tyre puncturing. Tony desperately clutched at the wheel, spinning it in an attempt to regain control. But the car swerved out to the left under the pressure of the busted tyre before finally coming to a stop by slamming sideways into the car parked behind it.

The two agents were thrown hard against the body of the car, McGee against his window, and Tony against the dashboard. McGee felt a crack in his shoulder as he fractured the glass. His eyes were shut, though he could still feel the warm trickle of blood coming from just above his hairline. He coughed and spluttered and tried to regain his composure, although the world was still spinning in and out of focus. He heard a door click open behind them and made an attempt to move, although his body didn't seem to be responding to his own commands.

Then he heard two piercing gunshots.

He jolted to full consciousness and began painfully clutching at the handle beside him until it gave way under his fingers. He tumbled out of the car and onto the wet tarmac. He could see a crumpled body at the feet of one of the men standing on the other side. He drew his weapon and began firing at him. The figure dashed to the side and took cover behind another car. McGee kept firing in that direction, quickly looking to the ground and trying to identify the dark figure crumpled in a heap.

He mentally checked off that it wasn't Tony before realising that it was their suspect; the man that had been in the back of the car.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw the driver of the van emerge wielding his own weapon and saw the new rain of automatic bullets begin to hit the car. Mentally numbing the pain in his shoulder, he lifted his Sig a little higher and fired two rounds, hearing the distant crack of metal piercing flesh. The driver felt to the ground in a heap. He reaimed his gun at where the other man had taken refuge and tried to fire, although his gun locked up. He cursed and leapt back behind the car. He reached into his pocket for another clip and began to struggle to reload. His fingers slipped over the gun and the cartridge, slick with blood and sweat, giving the attacker time to make it to the van and start up the engine.

McGee finally locked the clip in place and moved up from behind the car, discharging all but one round toward the back of the van. He cursed once more under his breath before returning to the driver's side of the car, intent on pursuing.

He stopped when he saw Tony's form slumped against the dashboard, gasping for air.

"Tony?" McGee shouted. "Tony!"

His partner's face was covered in blood, and either a hell of a lot of the fluid was acting under the pressure of gravity or he'd been shot in the chest as well. His shirt was soaked with it. He ripped open the car door and pulled Tony from the car, completely ignoring or momentarily forgetting any training he'd been given about this sort of accident.

"Tony!" he yelled once again, now laying him sprawled out on the tarmac. He touched a hand to his partner's chest, and his fingers came away wet, sticky and crimson. He looked at them with a great expression of puzzlement on his face, as if he had never seen or expected to see anything so odd as Tony's own blood coming out with such speed. He looked down at Tony and then back at his fingers. A red drop of blood swelled and dropped to McGee's cuff where it blossomed and grew.

He leant down and put a hand to Tony's face. "Oh my God, Tony, Tony," he said. "Can you hear me?"

Tony could barely register where he was, let alone concentrate so much as to reply to that odd sounding noise pummelling through his ears. His throat was already sore from desperately clutching and grasping at any piece of air that was attempting to travel to his lungs, and he could now feel a liquid beginning to rise in place of it. It could be either of two things, blood or bile. He wasn't sure which he preferred.

He could see a figure of some description hovering above him, and he could definitely feel something whacking against the side of his face. Maybe that's what was causing him all this pain on the side of his head. That damned whacking. He tried to lean his head up to make it stop, but a searing white-hot knot clawed at his temple and he felt his head slammed back down hard against the ground by some invisible force.

McGee placed his hand just above Tony's mouth. There was something there. He was still breathing. But only just.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his cell and dialled 911. He told the operator their location and situation, before pressing the second button on his speed dial.

Even just the sound of Gibbs' voice relaxed him a little.

He repeated the same information before quickly hanging up. He then tore his jacket off and began ripping at the sleeves. The two came away after considerable force as he cursed himself for thinking to buy the expensive and therefore durable jacket. He crumpled the body of the jacket up into a mess of a ball and pressed it hard against the deep red stain on Tony's chest. He could see Tony's eyes flicker backward into his head and McGee reached down and whacked him hard on the cheekbone. "Tony!" he yelled. "Tony, you have to stay with me!"

That figure was whacking him again. He was sure it was the figure now. ‘Stop it!' he wanted to say. ‘I'm in enough pain already here, you idiot, stop hitting me!'

Then he felt something press harder into his chest and his mind went blank.

Kate watched as Gibbs' expression grew sombre.

Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't have seen the change, but she was a profiler, and after two years of working with him she could now, every so often, identify the few signs on Jethro Gibbs' face that gave away his current state of mind. Years of training had taught him to evaluate a response and not give anything away about his reaction beforehand. It made him formidable in court and downright eerie as a supervisor, and he and the rest of his team knew it.

But Kate knew that at this precise point in time that Gibbs was scared. No amount of training or effort could hide that.

The person on the other end of that line had not been the deliverer of good news.

Her first thought was that someone higher up was already setting in motion an investigation into the team's handling of the case. But they had done everything by the book. How could they have predicted that Billy Adala would turn into a terrorist cell assassin? She reviewed acquaintances and friends of Gibbs' she knew of in a short litany through her mind.

But it was when she saw the colour drain from his eyes that she knew something was seriously wrong. Deep baby blue slowly liquefied into a light grey, seemingly devoid of any colour whatsoever. She'd only ever seen that happen twice before. Once when he had been told that Tony had been infected with the plague and the other when he had been told that Ari had escaped from the morgue.

She began trying to think of what it could possibly be. She desperately searched his ashen face for an answer. Billy Adala was in custody. The two of them were here, in the office, and safe as far as she knew. McGee and Tony were transporting Ati to the JTTF and CTD across town. Could something have happened to his family? Then she repeated that option in her head and thought otherwise.

"Where... ? When... ? Well, who else is at the scene?" Gibbs' voice was gravely and hoarse and yet still seemed to be intimidating as he interrogated the person on the other end of the line for answers. Unfortunately, her mind was now racing too fast to stop and try and read any of the signs now appearing. Gibbs hung up and stared at his phone.

"What?" Kate asked. "Gibbs, what's going on?"

He paused for a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. "DiNozzo and McGee were attacked while transporting Ati."

Now it was her turn for the colour to drain. Her mental evaluation had ended and been replaced by a clueless expression of disbelief. "Attacked? What do you mean ‘attacked', Gibbs?" Kate felt all her muscles and cells jump to attention as she stood and walked to his desk. Gibbs was already standing and pocketing his Sig and badge.

"They were shot," Gibbs said, still not making eye contact with her and thrusting his cell phone back into his pocket. Kate suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. Gibbs continued, "I still don't have all the details, but they're both on their way to Bethesda."

"I don't understand," Kate said, throwing her jacket around her shoulders and grabbing her weapon. "How could this happen? Were Ati's people trying to free him?"

"If they were, they're a pretty damn bad shot. Abdul Ati is dead."

- - - -

As they walked into Bethesda's Emergency Room, Kate continued to batter Gibbs with questions. "How badly are they injured? Where were they shot? Do we know anything about the shoo - - "

"Kate, I don't know!" Gibbs growled, slamming his weight against a door and allowing the two of them to pass through. "McGee called from the scene, said they'd been ambushed and gave me a location. The EMT's already have them, so it's quicker if we just wait here for them."

Gibbs jabbed his finger at the call button on the elevator several times, even after its light had flickered to life. Miraculously, it opened seconds later. Any longer and he was sure Kate would've insisted they take the stairs. She seemed to be even more impatient about her partners than he was. He turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, twisting her to face him, "Kate, calm down. They're going to be fine."

He didn't know who he was trying to convince more: her or himself.

"How do you know that?" she said, a little too harshly.

"Because it's DiNozzo and McGee. They're not allowed to die unless I tell them to," he said, taking a step into the elevator.

The elevator ride was quick to descend the three floors and as soon as the doors made any sign of opening once more, the two of them leapt from inside, immediately scouring the ER for someone to begin answering their questions. Kate spotted the reception desk and made a move to walk toward it before the large exterior double doors smashed open from the force of a gurney being wheeled inside. Her stomach lurched as she recognised the body lying on top of it.

"Caucasian male, twenty-eight years old, suspected scapula or clavical incomplete transverse fracture, possible anterior sublaxation, serious but stable head injury, strong pulse..."

Tim McGee was strapped to the gurney accompanied by three EMT's who were quickly ushering him into one of the emergency bays. He spotted Gibbs and they immediately made eye contact but before he could say something, a doctor blocked his view and escorted the gurney away from them.

Gibbs breathed out hastily. McGee was conscious. He was alert and responsive. That was a good sign. "McGee!" he yelled, beginning to pace after his agent when a nurse grabbed him by the arm.

"Excuse me, sir, do you know the patient?" she asked.

Gibbs turned around to find a determined looking brunette nurse eyeing him carefully. He swiftly pulled his arm from the nurse's grasp and flipped out his badge. "He's one of mine. Now move," he said, taking another step to follow the group of bustling hospital staff through the doors. His mind was fluctuating between concern for his agents' welfare and his need to find out what the hell had happened and who was responsible so he could begin cleaning his Sig and inflicting some serious harm.

"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse regained a hold on Gibbs. "You can't go in there." She had a calm yet firm tone that seemed to have been trained from years of deflecting anxious family and friends.

Gibbs ripped his arm from her grasp once more and began charging toward the ER bay doors again.

"Sir!" she shouted, before rounding in front of him and placing a forceful hand on his chest. He found it hard to believe that a woman of her petite size could so abruptly stop a man of his. "I promise that as soon as he is stable we will allow you to see him. But please, until then, for your agent's sake, let us do our job." She gave him a stern but oddly comforting smile and busted through the doors following McGee's gurney.

Gibbs stood there staring at the ER doors in disbelief. It took him a few moments to finally tear his eyes away and he saw that Kate was looking dazed and withdrawn. An angry or confrontational Kate he could handle; a stoic one terrified him. He knew that she was worried about McGee but more nervous that DiNozzo hadn't arrived alongside him. Years of experience had taught them that it was never a good sign when two people are involved in an accident but they didn't arrive together.

He approached her carefully, studying her expression and trying to think of something to say. When no words came, he simply stood next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. And they waited.

He didn't know how long they were standing there when Kate finally broke the silence. "Why isn't he here yet?"

She spoke so softly, like a timid child, that Gibbs almost didn't hear her. He was searching for a response that wouldn't sound condescending when the ER doors burst open again. And there he was.

They could hardly even catch a glimpse of his actual body as he flew by in a blur of activity, surrounded by at least three EMT's, two ER doctors and God knew how many nurses. The EMT's began shouting stats to every staff member around them as they led Tony's gurney into another ER exam bay. "Caucasian male, thirty-two years old, multiple gunshot wounds, one to the chest, one to the head. Flat-lined in the ambulance on the way over for approximately one to two minutes. We revived him but he's still unresponsive. Weak pulse, right lung has collapsed, inserted a chest-tube, confirmed pulmonary oedema, suspected subarachnoid haemorrhaging, recurrence of hemoptysis..."

And as quickly as they had entered the room, they were gone.

Gibbs shot a glance toward Kate who'd gone completely pale.

Tony had been injured hundreds of times on the job. Gunshot wounds, knife slices, hell, he'd almost been beaten to death three times as a hostage. But he'd never seen him this bad. A gunshot to the head and chest. Gunshot to the head. The words repeated themselves over and over inside his head. It was a miracle that the kid was still alive at this point. But Tony couldn't die from this. This wasn't how Tony was supposed to die. Tony wasn't allowed to die. At least not while he was an agent under himself.

He walked over to where Kate stood. She was still pale and now clammy, staring at the door that had stolen her two partners from her.

"He's..." her words choked in her throat. "Gibbs, they said a gunshot wound to the head. How is he still alive?"

"Because he's DiNozzo. He's a stubborn bastard."

Kate laughed gently for a few seconds as Gibbs snaked an arm around her shoulders again. She rested her cheek against his chest as her laughs subsided, her breaths slowly labouring as she broke down and began to cry.

Kate's crying had finally subsided into soft whimpers. Gibbs' thoughts drifted to Ducky, who'd told him of Kate's breakdown outside of Tony's isolation room whilst he'd had the plague. He wondered if this was bringing up old memories for her as well. He knew how hard it had been on her during that time, not only while she was inside the cell with him, watching her partner and friend slowly die, but also after she'd been forced to leave, still not knowing whether they'd find an antidote.

And he'd never seen another agent so distracted whilst Tony had been away on sick leave. For two weeks, Kate Todd had been a blank face. A blank mind. No smiling or laughing or snickering or anger or annoyance. No objects being thrown, no first-thing morning bickers over coffee and weekend adventures, no ganging up on McGee. Even he had missed it, and whilst sometimes entertaining on his part, it had usually exasperated him no end. It had been a relief to see the stiffness from her body drain away as soon as her partner had stepped foot back in the office.

It was at that exact point in time that he'd realised that he'd never met two partners quite like them. He still couldn't quite figure out whether they would ever be lover close or whether they'd remain brother-sister close. He knew for damned sure that at this point in time they were still the latter. Both still had too much ego getting in the way to give into any sort of obvious attraction. But they were more intimate than a lot of lovers he knew, not that most of his first-hand experiences with love had been intimate for very long. Without words, they could toss three separate smart-arse remarks across a noisy room in a split second glance. They seemed to get a kick out of screening lovers for each other, but then, as much as they'd deny it, they'd get jealous if one pursued. They bickered like an old married couple, yet at times like this, they seemed to wrap and twist themselves into an assortment of odd positions just to make sure the other was okay. And he knew that it was tearing away at Kate that she had to sit here and wait. She could do nothing to make sure he was okay. If something serious happened to Tony, he wasn't sure how she would deal with it this time.

Gibbs sensed that she was starting to regain her composure when his phone started ringing. He had turned it back on during the elevator ride down so he'd be able to get constant updates from Jenny in relation to Billy Adala. He removed his hold on Kate, stepped back, and pulled the phone from his pocket. She began wiping the tears away from her face and took a deep breath. He could almost see her reconstructing her emotional armour. He turned to walk away from where she stood and hit the talk button.

"Gibbs... Yeah... They were just taken in... Yeah, I know that..." Gibbs clicked off his phone, clearly hanging up on someone, and returned to see that Kate had taken a seat in the waiting area. "That was the Director. She's at the scene of the shooting. I'm going to head over now."

She looked up at him and nodded before replying, almost defensively, "I'm staying here."

"Good," Gibbs said, walking over and squatting in front of her. "Listen, Kate, I don't want to leave either but this is a bad situation and I have to go. I want to find out who did this to DiNozzo and McGee as much as you do." Kate nodded. "You call me the second you hear anything. Got it?"

Kate nodded her head again sadly.

Gibbs brushed a damp spot on her cheek with his thumb before standing and walking toward the exit.

- - - -

Kate didn't know how long she was sitting in the waiting area when she heard someone calling her name. She looked up to see the same ER nurse that had managed to obstruct Gibbs earlier.

She stood up and asked, "What's going on? How is he... I mean, how are they?"

She mentally cursed herself for only thinking of DiNozzo. Her thoughts so far had only seemed to concern Tony after she'd seen McGee enter the ER conscious, alert and receptive. But the younger agent was still not in the clear, she had to remind herself.

"A member of the surgical staff will be out shortly to speak with you, ma'am."

"Surgical?"

"Agent McGee's status is stable, but he is still in Intensive Care. Agent DiNozzo was admitted to the surgical ward fifteen minutes ago."

Kate felt her breathing hitch and heard her heart begin pounding twice as fast. She could feel it pressing against the fabric of her shirt each time it thudded. Why was she so surprised? Of course Tony would have to go in to surgery.

"But I thought we should give you these now," the nurse interrupted her thoughts. She handed her two plastic bags. "Their belongings. Weapons, badges, wallets. We know that whenever an agent or officer comes in you want these back as soon as possible."

Kate took the bags and the weight felt very strange in her numb hands. "Thank you."

The nurse began to walk away when she stopped and turned back. "Are you alright, ma'am? Would you like me to call someone?"

"No, no, I'm okay. "Kate hesitated before added, "I'm fine. Just make sure my guys are too."

The nurse nodded with a smile and headed back to the ER desk.

Kate opened the first clear plastic bag and looked inside to see that it was McGee's belongings. She didn't even have to open the wallet to know that it wasn't DiNozzo's. The leather on the wallet was crisp and unworn, a dark shade of brown, far too neat and tidy for Tony. She noted that his weapon was dirty with gunpowder at the end of the barrel. She smiled, slightly in surprise, mostly in relief. McGee had shot back.

She resealed the bag and reached for the other, fishing out DiNozzo's black leather ID. It was tattered and worn at the edges like the cash wallet sitting beside it, the charcoal black streaked with cuts of light brown from years of careless bending and shoving. She opened it slowly, feeling the metal badge on one side give in to gravity and fall to the side. She needed to see him – even if it was just a standard ID photo. The doctors and nurses had stolen him away before she'd even gotten a glimpse of his face and she needed to see him.

The first thing that struck her was how young he looked. He looked more like he had when she first met him; he had his hair grown out a little longer and combed backward, making him look both slightly dangerous and official at the same time. His expression was very serious and severe. They tell you to look serious because when you flash your badge you are doing it for serious reasons. She'd never seen DiNozzo look like that in real life, she knew that much.

Noticing a bit of paper sticking out from underneath the ID she pulled it out and immediately felt a lump in her throat. It was the top half of a photo strip. It was frayed at the edges with small creases across the images. It looked as if Tony had taken it in and out of its ‘secret hiding place' on multiple occasions. Kate felt tears well up in her eyes as she pulled out her own badge to retrieve the missing bottom half, which looked just as withered.

- - - -

They were in an oddly jovial mood. To start off, it was Tony's birthday, and he'd invited them over for dinner and some drinks after they'd wrapped their case. And whilst Tony gave off the impression of having the culinary talents of a freshly-graduated frat boy, when he did, on that rare occasion, decide to pull out the wooden spoon and saucepan, he somehow managed to cook up dishes that brought about the smells reminiscent of a traditional Italian townhouse, so Kate, Abby and McGee found it hard to say no. Gibbs still didn't trust Tony's cooking, so had said he would try and catch up with them later for the drinks. Furthermore, whilst they had found their missing petty officer undergoing an illegal and dangerous surgery on the outskirts of Washington, they had found him alive. And a case solved was still a solved case. And last but certainly not least, it was payday. And none of the team could look solemn after seeing their accounts take that tiny step upward into the black. They were all teasing about how little they were paid in comparison to their FBI counterparts when Tony led them into his local corner store to get some beer and provisions for his arranged meal.

"Evenin', Tony," Gregory greeted him.

"Hi, Greg," Tony replied, giving him a broad smile as he led Kate, McGee and Abby in behind him. Gregory owned the local store and knew Tony from the neighbourhood. He was a regular visitor, often late at night, and it was the ones that supplied Gregory with regular business at odd hours whose names he remembered.

Kate started down the aisle when she realised that Tony and the other two had stopped trailing behind her. She turned around to see them staring intently at something. She walked up beside them to see what was so fascinating. It was a photo booth. She gave Tony a perplexed look when a large smile began to creep across his face, followed quickly by McGee and Abby's.

"Oh, no, no way!" she began, already backing away when Tony grabbed her hand and dragged her into the booth.

"Oh, yes!" Abby shouted. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

McGee slipped two dollars into the slot and the four of them began to try and squash and mash each other into the tiny cubicle. By this time the four of them were laughing so hard at their inability to fit that they didn't even hear the first click announcing that the first photo had been taken. Once they realised that the camera had started snapping pictures, they all began to play up the poses. The good humour gave way to playful bickering and shoving and before they knew it, Tony and McGee were wrestling each other out of the booth and onto the hard floor, Kate and Abby left in hysterics.

- - - -

Kate stared at the photos she held in her hand with a bittersweet smile.

One: McGee's head was being squashed downward as Tony used it to lever himself up onto the stool. Abby and Kate were laughing with each other as they were tumbling into the frame.

Two: They were all making stupid faces – or rather trying to. It's very hard to try and look silly when you are laughing so hard. Tony had an eyebrow cocked and his fingers stroking his chin, Kate was eying him out of the corner of her eye, Abby had her hands in the shape of a gun, Charlie's Angels style, while McGee was covering his mouth with his hand, wide open in mock shock.

Three: Abby was planting an exaggerated kiss on McGee's cheek as he struggled to look angelic, whilst Kate had Tony in a headlock.

Four: The four of them were all in fits of laughter, Tony crushing a giggling Kate into his chest and pointing his fingers into a ‘V' shape above McGee's head.

She ran her fingers over the photos and felt like crying, wondering if Tony would ever be able to pull off that expression again. But her eyes were dry.

When Gibbs arrived at the scene he was greeted by a flashing mash of white, red and blue lights reflecting harshly off the water and oil-slicked tarmac. He pushed past the teams of news crews bucking against the crime scene tape trying to get footage for the eleven o'clock news and wormed his way through the crowd of gawkers craning their necks in the hopes of seeing something gruesome that they could share with their co-workers over coffee in the morning. He paced quickly up to and ducked under the yellow tape and into the gassy atmosphere of the road. He mentally thanked Jenny for cordoning off the entire road, instead of just the strip where DiNozzo and McGee had been attacked.

Sometimes nothing was more beautiful than a crime scene. Gibbs approached them reverently and passionately, hoping for solvable and yet exigent mysteries and puzzles with no missing pieces. But he wasn't hoping for a challenge this time. The simpler, the quicker, and the quicker it was the better for DiNozzo and McGee and the better for his own sanity and rage.

Once he was past the crime scene squad van and was able to see the car, he felt as if someone had immediately sent him a swift kick to the gut. The car was not only riddled with bullet holes and smashed glass but it was also crushed in on the driver's side by a large white SUV. What the hell had happened here?

He made his way past the police officers and crime scene investigators to try and get a closer look at the vehicle. Even from twenty feet away he could see Ati's body covered by a white sheet on the road.

He stopped when he saw the Director approaching.

"Gibbs, how are DiNozzo and McGee?" she asked, walking briskly up to him, a sincere look of concern in her eyes.

"Since when do you come to crime scenes?" Gibbs asked a little harshly.

"Since two of my agents were ambushed and attacked at one by a terrorist, Agent Gibbs. Now, do you have the medical status of Agents DiNozzo and McGee?"

Gibbs ignored her question once again with a disapproving look. Gibbs needed to focus and try and figure out whoever was responsible and try not to think about the fact that two of his agents were currently in the Emergency Ward of Bethesda. "What have you bee able to put together here? Any evidence yet, any eyewitnesses?"

"You don't like eyewitnesses, Jethro."

"At this point in time, I'll take whatever I can get."

Jenny smiled and nodded to a couple on the sidewalk looking pale and shaky. "They were driving in the opposite direction. According to them, a few men dressed in black, they're not sure of the exact number, jumped from the back of a black or dark blue van and opened fire on the sedan." She paused. "They had semi-automatics."

Jenny gave Gibbs a moment to let him soak in the last fact. A gunshot wound was dangerous enough but being shot at by a semi-automatic usually amounted to death. Gibbs wondered how it was that McGee had not been hit and that Tony, who had been hit twice, was even alive.

"Apparently Agent DiNozzo was driving and he reacted by accelerating into the back of the van. He crushed one of the attackers," she pointed to a spot a little further up the road where another white sheet lay draped over a human form. "One of the tyres was blown out as well, so couple that with the skid marks and we can assume that that's how they hit the SUV. The couple also said that after the attack at least one man hopped back into the van and sped off."

Gibbs swallowed and asked, "And Abdul Ati?"

She glanced over to the patch of road where Ati was lying dead. "Double tap to the chest. He was still handcuffed when he was shot. He never had a chance."

Gibbs swallowed. "The witnesses. Can they give a description of the men?"

"Already working on it, Jethro, but it was dark and raining and they were wearing full black military wear. I don't expect good results."

Gibbs gave Jenny a lingering glance before moving over to the car to take a closer look. When he rounded to the driver's side door he saw blood everywhere. Tony's blood – everywhere. He was not used to looking at blood without an accompanying body, so it seemed oddly unrealistic to him. He decided not to try and sway his mind from that feeling and make it appear any more tangible than it already was. It was then, however, that he saw a bottle of a disgusting-looking, highly-sugared, bright orange energy drink sitting in the centre cup holster. His mind immediately flashed to Tony, buying those ridiculous sodas whenever he got sick of coffee. He tried to ignore the connections his mind was now sending him between the orange drink and the blood before Jenny interrupted him.

She walked up to him from behind. "Gibbs, this is not good. This is far from good. We have a dead prisoner, two severely injured agents and at least one terrorist on the loose. We need answers fast."

Gibbs reigned in his anger by letting out his words in a deep growl. "Look, Director, these aren't just injured agents – these are my agents. They are my team. You think I'm not wanting to find out who the hell did this to them?"

"And that's exactly why I'm considering pulling you from the case."

"What?" Gibbs was incredulous. "The attack on DiNozzo and McGee is just part of the ongoing investigation into Billy Adala. I'm going to continue to work my own case."

"The other agencies will raise Holy hell if you do."

"No reason for them to."

"Tainted evidence, Gibbs," Jenny lied, knowing full well the reason she wasn't going to hand over carte blanche to a vengeance-verging Gibbs. "Listen, I like DiNozzo and McGee, too. They're both fantastic agents and great men. But you said it yourself. They're your agents and they're your men and that's why you can't touch this case. Give it to Agent Sanders. He wouldn't know favouritism or personal motive if it bit him on the ass."

"No, he wouldn't."

"Gibbs, I can't tell you what to do on this. But, my advice - - go back to the hospital. Wait for them to stabilise and then no one's going to stop you from seeing them. Take Agent Todd and Abby with you. But you ought to stay as far away from this case as possible. There is too much at risk for you and the agency."

"I don't give a stuff about myself or the agency!" Gibbs yelled. "Sanders' solve-rate is nowhere near ours, and he's loaded already. I'm not going to let this bastard walk because of politics!" Gibbs could hear himself, almost like his voice was reflected in some auditory mirror. The anger. The raw grief. He sounded like a family vigilante thirsting for blood, and it wasn't hard to see why Jenny wanted to keep him from this case. He steadied himself, pulled his emotions back before they could win control completely. "It'll be airtight. I get all the evidence the DA and the FBI could possibly want. We both know that they can't accuse us of personal tampering if the evidence speaks for itself."

"Tampering with evidence isn't my primary concern, Gibbs," she finally said, eying him warily.

"I want this bastard alive, Jenny. At least until I get what I want from him."

"I had a feeling you'd take this reaction." Her eyes smiled.

"Well, your feeling was remarkably accurate." His voice was still steely. "Tell Sanders that we will continue to cover the Adala case, and if he has any problems with that, he can talk to me personally. Same goes for any other heads of agencies." His last few words rolled off his tongue laced with authoritative defiance.

"I've seen to it that Fornell will be heading up the FBI side of things for the case. He's working in conjunction with agents from JTTF and now the CTD."

It was the one possible thing that could have in any way stabilised him in relation to the investigation, and it did. Gibbs forced himself to breath out slowly, to calm down. Do his job like he had done it all his life, and like this case wasn't more important than any other. Establish the criminalist's Holy Trinity, the one that didn't grant bitter answers to unspoken prayers. Victim. Suspect. Crime scene.

He had the first, he had two of the first. Abby would have the last, no matter which agent headed the case. And he wanted the middle. Very, very badly.

"I want Abby to process everything from this scene," he said.

"I had a feeling you'd say that, too." Jenny finally smiled again. "Since I knew you'd dig your own grave, I thought I'd grab a shovel and pitch in. I hustled Abby out of bed fifteen minutes ago, gave her the story. She was impossible to talk to with the state she was in so I allowed her to visit the hospital first, although I've made her promise that she'll return within a few hours and begin running the tests."

Gibbs was almost struck numb with gratitude. He said, humbly, "Thank you."

There were some points in his life where he was glad that certain people knew him too well.

- - - -

Abby found Kate sitting in the waiting room exactly where Gibbs had left her. She was staring at something in her hands but when she saw Abby approaching she shoved it back into her coat pocket.

"Kate!" she yelled, running over to her, still dressed in her black tank top and shorts from bed. She hadn't even thought to get dressed. She just threw on her boots so her feet wouldn't get wet and ran. "Kate! Where are they? Where did they take them? Have either gone into surgery? Were both shot? Are either stable yet?"

Kate resisted the urge to laugh at the state Abby was in. Abby was probably the one person in the world that could calm Kate's nerves by being worried sick herself. "Abby, you must be freezing!" she said, standing and pulling her jacket off. She wrapped it around Abby's half-naked form and pulled her into a hug along with it.

Abby wrapped her own arms around Kate and clutched at the back of her shirt. "Where are my boys?" she asked again. Kate could hear the tears in her voice.

"They're - - alive, Abby."

Abby pulled back from the hug with clouded and pointed eyes. They looked worn and clammy already. "Alive? Well, of course they're alive, Kate! McGee and Tony aren't allowed to die!"

Kate smiled again. "They're both here, Abs," she continued, her eyes still red raw from crying herself. "Tim is just leaving Intensive Care now. He's going to be fine. He has a broken collarbone and a concussion but he's..." she let out a breath. "He's going to be fine. We can see him as soon as they move him to recovery."

Abby knew that if Kate hadn't volunteered any news about Tony then there probably wasn't any to give. But she had to ask, "And - - And Tony?"

"Nothing yet," Kate's voice cracked and for a moment Abby thought she might begin crying. However, despite the chink in her armour earlier, she was back to the consummate professional Special Agent. She rubbed at her eyes, "He was sent up to surgery almost two hours ago. I haven't heard anything since."

"Surgery?" Abby almost yelled.

"He was shot twice. Once in the chest and once in the head."

"In the head?" Abby was hysterical, her hands clutching at her pyjamas as she paced the two metres back and forth in front of Kate.

"Abby, I'm still not sure how it happened... or how he's even still alive," Kate slumped back into the chair behind her, her emotions clawing once more to spill from her eyes.

Abby was panic-stricken. Two of her favourite boys were lying in that emergency room and she couldn't do anything to help them. But she pushed past her own stress and smiled warmly as she took a seat beside her. "Life is good, Kate. We shouldn't even have that."

Abby had always seen people after they'd been killed, after they'd died. She couldn't prevent anything from happening. Sometimes she'd felt useless, but never as much as she did right here, right now, looking into the eyes of one of her best friends and having no idea what to say. She knew how close Kate and Tony were and yet still couldn't quite muster the words that she felt were needed to soothe that kind of a chink to that kind of a relationship. She'd always been there for Kate. She knew the right words to pull her out of a bad case or a bad boyfriend at any moment in time. But this wasn't a case. And it wasn't a boyfriend. This was Tony. And the words she needed just didn't seem to come.

"I know, Abs," Kate said. "It's just..."

"I know you were meant to be in that car, Kate," Abby said, suddenly realising the direction Kate was heading and cutting her off. "But there's nothing you could've done. Don't wish that you'd been there, because I know you don't."

"Yes, I do, Abby. Then Tony wouldn't have been in there." Kate pointed to the double doors. "I would."

"And you'd be fighting for your life instead. And do you have any idea how much harder it is to comfort Tony instead of you?"

Kate dropped her head into a small smile.

"I know you love him, Kate," Abby continued. "And he loves you too. We all love him." Her mouth squirmed and almost suckered into a sob. "I'm not doing this right. I guess I'm not great at the whole consolation thing altogether."

Kate placed her hand gently over Abby's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"No, thank you, Abs. Really. It means something."

Abby took a moment to study Kate's face before putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "He's going to be okay, Kate. It's Tony. Who's gonna annoy you if he's gone? Somehow I don't think McGee's gonna quite make the cut."

Kate tried to smile, but only her lips curled up at the edges. She bit her lip and considered her words carefully before giving up. "But it's... It's Tony."

"I know," Abby said, simply. She watched a single tear run down Kate's cheek and land near the corner of her mouth. She wondered if she could taste the salt on her lips.