The Good Doctor by sammie28
Summary: When a Gulf War veteran dies unexpectedly, NCIS opens an investigation and discovers something far worse. Hunches don't hold up in court, though, and they will have to find a different way to get the information they need.
Categories: Gen, Gibbs/Kate Characters: Abby Sciuto, Anthony DiNozzo, Donald Mallard, Gerald Jackson, Kate Todd, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Original character, Timothy McGee
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Gibbs/Kate
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 6 Completed: Yes Word count: 32419 Read: 5664 Published: 12/06/2005 Updated: 12/07/2005
Story Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.

1. The Good Doctor by sammie28

2. The Good Doctor by sammie28

3. The Good Doctor by sammie28

4. The Good Doctor by sammie28

5. The Good Doctor by sammie28

6. The Good Doctor by sammie28

The Good Doctor by sammie28
Author's Notes:
When a Gulf War veteran dies unexpectedly, NCIS opens an investigation and discovers something far worse. Hunches don't hold up in court, though, and they will have to find a different way to get the information they need.
The Good Doctor

by Sammie

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If they were, would Kate be dead? (bares fangs) The new JAG Gordon Cresswell (I thought he was a terrific character and a great foil for Mac for a whole host of reasons which I won't go in to here) is also not mine, but again, there is enough explanation for those unfamiliar with that storyline.

RATING: K+ (I'm so bad at this)

SUMMARY: When a Gulf War veteran dies unexpectedly, NCIS opens an investigation and discovers something far worse. Hunches don't hold up in court, though, and they will have to find a different way to get the information they need.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to my beta for this story, Em. All mistakes still left over are mine!

I know the Veterans' Administration doesn't fall under NCIS jurisdiction, but humor me, okay? And at least give me credit for making the first guy active duty, thus dumping HIM under NCIS jurisdiction.

Oh, I've also decided to make other changes. Since I've decided to write stories in the world where Kate still lives, then why not go all the way? Never warmed up to the tape-recording, yappy, insecure Palmer...he's just a McGee for Ducky, except that McGee is far better developed. So I've made Gerald return. That was a lot simpler than resurrecting Kate.

Secondly, I think Tom Morrow is a fantastic character. I'm all for more women on-screen, but I see no point to making a new director when Tom Morrow was doing so wonderfully (and Alan Dale is available to play him). He could keep Gibbs in line.

All I have to say is...the team (including McGee) from season 1 was ingenious. Talk about truly different characters.



PRESENT DAY
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VETERANS' ADMINISTRATION CLINIC

"Get him on the table!" Martin shouted, motioning to his fellow doctor as they bodily dragged the veteran into one of the examining rooms. The elderly Westin proved much younger than he looked, more than holding up the sick man on one side, with the Marine's wife on the other. Martin threw open the door to let them inside.

The two doctors eased the veteran onto the table, where he continued to choke, gasping for air. His wife was close behind, maintaining an amazing calm and trying to situate her husband despite the obvious panic in her eyes.

Suddenly the man on the table began to convulse, his back arching, his body twisting horribly, his eyes unnaturally wide. Westin dashed forward, trying to help Nina Morgan hold her husband on the table.

The convulsing worsened and blood began seeping from his mouth. Westin looked up at Martin, panicked but hopeful and expectant that he could do something. Nina was holding her husband's head steady, trying to keep him from smashing his head against the table, begging him to look at her. She turned a pleading look to Martin, her eyes brimming with desperate tears.

Martin blinked helplessly, as if he were reacting in slow motion to a train wreck.

X X X X X

Outside, Carrie Barrett flinched at the sudden keening noise from the back room. She had waited too long - how could she have agreed to wait? Good God in heaven forgive her; she couldn't believe she....

Nina Morgan was crying in the back room. Carrie could hear it even over the doctors' shouted directions. She knew what would happen - Doc Martin had told her before. He had a sudden shot of medicine that was supposed to help counter...come to think of it, he had never said what it was supposed to counter.

911 was her first call, and the throaty voice that answered seemed to her to be too calm.

She hung up and managed to find the business card she was looking for; her shaking hands nearly dropped it. She quickly put it down on her desk and frantically dialed Agent DiNozzo's number. It didn't matter what happened to her close friend now - a woman was losing her husband in the back room. She grabbed the phone.

"DiNozzo."

"It's Carrie Barrett."



SIX MONTHS EARLIER
NCIS HQ

"Oh." Kate paused and put the phone between her ear and her shoulder and readjusted the braided bun in her hair. "Conference 1? We'll be there." She hung up. "Gibbs just called. He's with the JAG downstairs."

McGee nodded, but Tony looked up, concerned. "The JAG came here after we pissed him off so royally two years ago?"

"When he accused a JAG lawyer of murder?" Kate asked.

"How did you know about that?" Tony asked. "You weren't here."

"When Gibbs dragged Lt. Bud Roberts in here to try to work him in the Fuentes case," Kate replied. "The JAG's AJ Chegwidden, right?"

"Chegwidden?" McGee frowned. "Name sounds familiar." The two others turned to him. "I..." he hedged a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "He signed up some drug-dealing putz - Walter? Walden! Something - Daniel Walden - for the Navy to clean him up!" McGee made an angry face. "The Navy is not some baby-sitting service!"

Tony and Kate exchanged amused but surprised looks at McGee's vehemence. "I...take it you had problems with him?" Tony asked.

McGee rolled his eyes. "Every time the idiot tried to sneak drugs into his bunk I got called. Schmuck."

"What happened?"

"The supervising agent down at Norfolk filed a formal complaint for me when Walden went to trial again. Guess where the complaint ended up."

"JAG office in DC," Tony muttered sympathetically, as if punched in the gut. "Great, so the only who hasn't pissed off the JAG is...you." Tony looked down at Kate. "We ought to have a grand ole time down there."

XXXXX

They came down to the conference room, where they heard Gibbs and another male talking. McGee was about to open the door when Tony held up a hand.

The voices were muffled, but they were clear enough to be heard. "I heard about Col. Ryan. When we were grunts I served with him," said the unfamiliar voice. "He was a good man. First guy I'd want in my foxhole."

"He mentioned you often. Always in the best of terms."

"It's nice to be remembered," the man replied with a chuckle. "Where are your agents?"

"They should be here," came the mutter, and McGee quickly opened the door. "General, Special Agents Todd, DiNozzo, McGee," Gibbs replied. The Marine JAG gave a slightly puzzled look to Kate, whose hair was up in a bun off her neck, but didn't comment. "This is Major General Gordon Cresswell, the new JAG."

The Marine nodded at them as they sat down across the table from him, then began. "I'll keep it short. An old friend of mine from Desert Storm died recently, ostensibly from a stroke. He was under treatment by a doctor at a VA clinic."

"You have our sympathies, sir," Kate supplied.

"What I want is your investigative skills. His widow was convinced he was killed, so I had some of the JAs look into it, on the side."

"Some?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice, and the general chuckled.

"But...." McGee frowned. "Is VA even under NCIS and JAG jurisdiction?"

"He was active duty," the general replied. "He was seeing the doctor on the side, under his wife's veteran's pension plan. I've explained the details to Agent Gibbs."

"What did your investigation find?" Gibbs asked.

"They recommended a full investigation into the matter. Criminal." He pushed a folder across the table to Gibbs, who began to flip through it. "This is a copy of everything we had at JAG, including interviews with the doctor and the widow. There was one JAGman investigation before ours, and from some notes, I'd guess two NCIS investigations into the doctor already."

"And there was nothing?" Kate asked with a puzzled frown.

The Marine turned to her, eyeing her carefully for a moment before responding. "Nothing."



MacCLELLAN HOME

The widow wiped her eyes a little and shook her head. "No, Dan was following orders - exercising, not intensely, taking his medicine, and eating healthy. He seemed to be getting better. That very bad cold season that hit a few months ago - he made it through without getting sick. He had a small cough, that was it."

Kate watched from the corner of her eye as Gibbs frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. "Mrs. MacClellan, how did you find Dr. Martin?"

"He was referred to us," the woman replied. "By Dan's friend from high school, Jack Myick. They had signed up together for the Corps, ended up in different units, though. When we heard the doctor was VA, we...were reluctant because Dan's active duty coverage wouldn't cover it. But mine did."

"How did your husband's friend find the doctor?"

"He was referred by a friend who had tried Dr. Martin and felt better."

Gibbs nodded. "How do we contact Myick?" He handed her a small notebook, and she wrote a number and an address. "Does he know that your husband is deceased?"

"No, not yet. I...I didn't say anything yet."

Gibbs nodded and turned to Kate, and the two got ready to go. "Thank you, Mrs. MacClellan," Kate said as gently as she could. "We'll do everything we can."

"So," the widow replied, taking a big breath. "Biff said you had some ideas of your own."

Gibbs and Kate exchanged looks, and then Kate paused a moment, not answering, and then said as gently as possible, "Mrs. MacClellan, you do know that Gulf War Syndrome has not been officially recognized as an illness?"

The woman's dark eyes flashed as she sat up and looked at the two agents straight in the eye. "Tell me, then," she replied sharply. "If it isn't some kind of illness, then why are so many of these Gulf veterans getting so sick?"



NCIS HQ

"What've you got, probie?" Tony asked, throwing a folder onto his desk.

"Dr. Brian Martin. Model citizen," McGee replied. "Father was a Vietnam vet, died when he was young; mother raised him alone before she died, too. Put himself through college and medical school, married up. His wife is a medical researcher. They met in medical school. She's loaded, and she still works, so he can work wherever he wants without worrying about money. He's spent his entire life working for the VA, and she does a lot, too. He's clean as a whistle."

"Hey guys," Balboa greeted as he plopped into an open chair and pushed himself across to Tony's desk.

"Hey, Bal," Tony greeted, as he stood up. "Gibbs got through to you, huh?"

"Kate, actually. Kate...sounding like Gibbs," Balboa replied with a small smile. "She said that the last widow they talked to, said there's a whole network of Marines who see this guy, and that you might get overwhelmed by all the paperwork."

"Be our guest," McGee welcomed, pushing half the files to Balboa. "These are the Marines' files."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking at the past NCIS investigations."

"Did you find anything, probie?" Tony asked, propping his feet up on the desk.

"Nothing good," McGee replied, shaking his head. "There's some digging in his financial records, checking up on his phone record, interviewing his friends...and that's it. They just kind of say there's no evidence and it ends there."

Tony and Balboa looked up. "What?" DiNozzo spoke first. "It just ends there?"

"Hey," Balboa sighed. "Not everyone suspects foul play at every single angle," he pointed out. At their looks, he added, "Unlike Gibbs."

McGee conceded the point.



MYICK HOME

"It worked for me," Myick insisted. "I feel less jittery, and I get sick less."

"Couldn't it just be the diet?" Kate asked.

Myick snorted. "Maybe, but I can only see diet helping, not making me this much better."

"What kind of medicine were the both of you using?" Gibbs asked.

"Pleromades," Myick replied. "It's a prescription drug."

Kate blinked and began to open her mouth to protest: there was no prescription drugs for Gulf War Syndrome. Gibbs' warning look made her change her question. "May we see it?"

The Marine nodded, getting up and bringing the bottle by. "This is it."

"We'll be taking this," Gibbs said.

"I need to take my medicine," the Marine objected.

"We just need one," Gibbs replied.

"It's very timed," Myick insisted. "I have to take one every day, and I only get another bottle when I'm near the end."

"One every day," Kate nodded as sympathetically. "Never dropped a pill...never lost one under the counter...never accidentally stepped on one and crushed it."

Myick looked at her, an eyebrow raised expectantly, and then to the older agent, who was looking just as smugly at him. He then conceded reluctantly, taking out the last few pills from the bottle and then handing the old bottle with one pill to Kate, who quickly slipped on a pair of gloves and bagged the evidence.

Myick shrugged. "I don't know what you'd want with it, though," he replied in an annoyed, almost defensive tone. "Dr. Martin is the best thing to have happened to most of us Gulf vets."

"Not to your old friend MacClellan," Gibbs replied, turning at the door as he and Kate were heading out.

"What?" Myick paused. "Dan? But he was fine."

"Fine for a dead guy."



DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Dr. Martin's office," the receptionist answered. She clamped the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she turned to her computer and continued typing. "Sir, I am really sorry, but Dr. Martin isn't taking new patients at this time. ... I understand that, sir," she replied firmly, obviously happy the man on the other end couldn't see her face. The voice on the other end continued to speak, and the receptionist's face almost twisted in sympathetic pain.

Carrie Barrett winced as she listened to the story. She didn't think Dr. Martin would mind another patient,

but she had her orders. "Sir, I'm sorry, I - " The voice on the other end dropped in disappointment. "All right." She lowered her voice. "Sir, I'll make you an initial appointment and I'll speak to Dr. Martin and let him know your Marine friend referred you. Dr. Martin knows Jack Myick. But I can't guarantee anything."

She listened to grateful words on the other end. "Again, sir, I don't want to get your hopes up, but I will try. Mr. Morgan, please understand that I might not be able to pull this off. I will try, though, so - "

"Try what?" asked a voice behind her.

The young woman cringed. "We'll make that appointment for tomorrow," she replied and hung up, then sheepishly turned to her employer.

"You accepted another patient, didn't you," Martin replied not unkindly but with a chastising tone.

"He sounded so desperate," she replied. "Dr. Martin, you should have heard him when he was making that appointment and I said no."

"Carr, we can't take very patient who calls here," the doctor replied not unkindly. "I don't have that kind of time. I know you want to, and I do too, but it's not possible. It's past closing - " he indicated the clock, which said 7 pm " - and I've been seeing patients all day."

"I know, I know. I...I turned away four others this week," Carrie replied. "I've been trying, but."

Martin sighed. "All right, I'll take the initial appointment. But no promises, make sure you tell them that."



NCIS HQ

"Hey," Tony greeted as Gibbs and Kate came in. "Playing hooky all day?" Gibbs just gave him a look and picked up his ringing phone.

Kate groaned as she dropped into her seat and whispered across to Tony, "Is it possible to play hooky with Gibbs?"

"True." Tony conceded, then asked in a normal voice, "What did you guys get?"

"In case you didn't know, we report to Gibbs, Tony."

"Cute."

Gibbs put down his phone. "Tony, McGee. We're going to see Ducky."

Kate frowned and looked at Balboa, who looked up, puzzled. "What about us?"

"No," Gibbs replied as he turned the corner. "I want a network of Martin's patients by tonight."

"This is going to take forever," Balboa suddenly said, holding up half his files. "There's tons of them! He's not serious, right?"

Kate just smiled sympathetically. "I think he is."

"Hope you didn't have plans for tonight," Tony replied, patting him on the shoulder as he went by.



NCIS HQ, AUTOPSY

"What do you have for us, Duck?" Gibbs asked as he came in.

"Ah, the better question is what I do not have for you, Jethro," Ducky replied, waving them over. "The unfortunate Col. MacClellan suffered an incapacitating heart attack and a stroke. There was also signs of internal hemorrhaging, which may or may not have been related to the cause of death."

"All of them?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"All of 'em," Gerald replied with a small wince. "This guy wasn't going to get out of this one alive."

"What caused it?" Gibbs asked, frowning.

"That's difficult to say," Ducky replied. "I sent the blood up to Abby, but the fact of the matter is that Col. MacClellan had trace evidence of so many drugs in his system it's difficult to tell what exactly it was that might have killed him."

"You think it was drug-induced?" McGee asked, turning to the ME.

"Well, to have all those things at once, at least one must have been drug-induced," Ducky replied firmly. "The question is which drug it was and whether or not it was the fatal mixing of the drugs which killed him - perhaps pure misfortune."

"A doctor always asks what medications a patient takes before prescribing," Gibbs replied as he started out. "Thanks, Duck."

Ducky nodded, a small smile on his face, and then looked up to see Tony, McGee, and Gerald still looking at him. "Jethro doesn't believe in accidents."

"'Course HE doesn't," Gerald commented.



NCIS HQ, LAB

"Abs?" Gibbs called as he came in, shouting over the music. He smacked her stereo off.

"Gibbs!" Abby protested.

"Noise," Gibbs declared, pointing at the boom box. "What do you have?"

"More like what don't I have," Abby replied as the doors opened again and in came DiNozzo and McGee. "Hey guys." She typed a command into her computer and brought the lab test results onto the plasma. "He had enough drugs to open his own pharmacy, and in elevated levels."

"What do all these drugs do?" Tony frowned, gesturing at the chart. "What are these things used in?"

"Well, in elevated doses, in order from left to right...blood thinner, heart medication, antibiotics, and lots of health-supplement type vitamin herbal things."

"Did you run MacClellan's medicine?" Gibbs asked.

"Sure did. but it's hard to tell what levels came from which med."

"What about Myick's?"

"Gibbs, I know you think I'm Superwoman, but - "

"Abs!"

"No."

"When?"

"If I can get someone to help me with MacClellan's meds...."

"Okay. Thanks, Abby." Gibbs turned to the other two agents. "McGee. Help Abby. Tony, get back upstairs."

As they left, he called over his shoulder, "I better not catch you two playing!"



NEXT MORNING
NCIS HQ

"Good morning," Tony grinned as he came in.

"That can only mean one thing," Kate smirked.

"Girl or a new car," McGee supplied, and Kate laughed. Tony made a face.

"Both of which he refers to as 'she'," Kate added, one eyebrow cocked. "So, which is it? A flesh and blood she or a metal one?"

"It doesn't always have to do with a woman," Tony protested.

"Gas?" Kate replied with a smile. McGee snorted, and Tony glared at him. "Hey, Balboa," she greeted as the loaned agent came in.

"Hey." He dropped into an empty chair nearby. "Gibbs not here yet? Wrong question. Where's Gibbs?"

"Right here," Gibbs replied, coming in. "What did you guys get yesterday?"

The three men crowded around his desk. "Dr. Martin's a model citizen, boss," Tony replied. "Father was a Vietnam vet who died when he was a kid. His mother raised him alone before she died, too, when he was 19. He put himself through college and medical school, married up his social class. His wife is pretty loaded - old money. They met in med school; she's a medical researcher. Between her family's money and her own job, he can pretty much do whatever he wants to without worrying about money. He's spent his entire life working for the VA, and she does a lot, too. He's clean as a whistle."

"McGee." Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him.

"NCIS did two investigations into him, and JAG two. They didn't find anything criminal. They looked into his financial records, checking up on his phone record, interviewing his friends...and that's it. They just kind of say there's no evidence of criminal activity and it ends there."

Kate winced slightly from her seat.

"He's got enough cash to buy people off, boss," Tony said pointedly.

"That's a serious accusation," Balboa frowned. "You're going to accuse a NCIS agent of being bribed?"

"No," Tony replied. "I'm just speculating."

"Balboa?"

The agent clicked the chart onto the screen. "This is the network of Dr. Martin's patients. How many of them are complaining about Gulf War Syndrome, I don't know. We'd have to see their medical records."

Gibbs frowned. "That's pretty intricate."

"It's all word of mouth," Balboa replied. "Everybody knows somebody, and that's how they get referred around. It's not linear, either. I think a lot of the Marines wouldn't go to the doc unless they had at least a second reference."

"We're still checking," Kate added. "Most of this information is from the recommenders. We have to double check with all those they said they recommended."

"What about our possible vics?" Gibbs asked.

"Those we know are on Pleromades are the circled ones," Balboa replied, pointing at the names on the chart. "I've underlined the ones who have died while under Dr. Martin's care. No confirmation on how they died, so that's still pending. You and Kate talked to all of these" he pointed at the bolded names "yesterday."

"There's so many more," Kate groaned.

"Balboa, figure out a way to get those medical records."

"They keep saying we don't have probable cause...for a warrant or a subpoena."

"Well, figure out a way," Gibbs replied. "Make sure Ducky sees them. Abby done with the medicine yet?"

"Not since I called her ten minutes ago."

"Make sure you guys talk to the doctor."



DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

His wife quietly called his name again, this time laying a hand on his shoulder. This time, the distracted man finally registered, looking up at her for a moment questioningly. She smiled softly and took the medical form checklist out of his hands, and, taking the pen, began to complete the form.

Carrie Barrett cringed slightly behind her desk and shook it off. She saw it all the time - this was no different from some of the other couples she'd seen in the office. But it was never easier to see patients like this.

She heard her boss come up to the wall partition from the back and turned around. "Hey Carrie. This the new patient?"

"Yeah," she replied, handing him a folder. "Recommended by Jack Myick."

"Where's the patient form?"

"His, uh, wife is still filling it out," Carrie replied. "He was getting distracted - he won't say it, but I think he's got a bad headache. And some flu symptoms."

The doctor nodded. "Tell me what you know."

"He's a Gulf War veteran, obviously; a Marine staff sergeant when he left the service. His wife is a nurse."

Martin looked up from his file, frowning. "Did you read his file?"

She shook her head. "She told me," the secretary replied. "When they came in."

"So, what did the wife say to convince you to take her husband as my patient?"

"Actually," Carrie said quietly, giving a sidelong glance over the partition. "HE called."

Martin stopped reading and looked up, now certainly piqued. "HE called? For his wife?"

"No, he's...uh...he's the Gulf veteran," she said quietly. "He called to make the appointment. He was the one I was talking to on the phone the other day. He sounded kind of desperate on the phone."

"He must be," Martin muttered. Most of the veterans he was treating for the Gulf War Syndrome were particularly wary of his treatments, as were their spouses. It was only after his new medications had helped that they had wholeheartedly recommended him. Of his roughly twenty patients, only two had called themselves; the others had given their spouses permission to call for them.

This new one - former Staff Sergeant Paul Morgan - was the first man to call himself. Looking at the slew of medical tests, it looked as if the man was at the end of his rope. No wonder he called. He must've been really desperate. He looked up from the file to his secretary, who was giving him a sheepish and apologetic smile.

Martin stepped into the waiting room. "Paul Morgan?" The couple looked up, and the wife quickly scrambled to fill out the forms as they approached. "Hi. I'm Dr. Brian Martin." He smiled warmly, holding the door for them as they went in.



NCIS HQ

"We just wanted to double check," McGee replied into the phone as Tony drove. "You told Agent Gibbs that your wife had been on the medication almost a year. Was there anything else?" He paused. "Okay...." He scribbled a quick note. "All right. Thank you, Mr. Kim."

"What?" Tony asked.

"Kim - that's the widower - said his wife had her stroke while they were at the doctor's office. The doctor used an epi-pen on his wife. At least, from his description, it seemed like one of those epi-pens."

"Epi-pen?" Tony frowned.

"It looks like a pen, and it carries epinephrine," Kate explained. "A lot of people with allergies will carry them. When they need a shot fast - because of an allergic reaction to something - they inject themselves with the medicine inside the pen."

"He used it for someone with a stroke?" Tony asked incredulously.

McGee shrugged. "No idea."

"Don't ask Martin about it yet," Tony replied. "I don't want him to know that we know."



NCIS HQ, LAB

"Hey Abby," Gerald greeted as he held up the small tube. "Hair. Ducky thought you might want to test it."

Abby grinned. "Right over there in the cooler, thanks."

"Did you test the medicine yet?" Gerald asked.

"I've started, but mostly I've just been trying to find the FDA reg book on the meds. I've only been able to find minimal information. Why?"

"Ducky thinks that something's hinky."

"Hinky how?"

"He doesn't have the pre-symptoms for a stroke," Gerald replied.

"A chemical, then?"

"Hey," Gerald grinned, shrugging. "That's why he sent up the blood and hair to you."



DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"What can you tell us about Lt. Col. Daniel MacClellan?" Tony asked.

"He's a good guy," Dr. Martin replied. "A bit resistant to taking medicine, at first, but he'd do anything for his wife."

"Health-wise, doctor," Tony replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, he was feeling tired, got sick often, memory loss, among other things."

"Doctor," Tony replied shortly. "You realize that could be the same symptoms for getting old."

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, I know. I don't diagnose lightly. I generally watch, treating the symptoms directly and having them speak to a dietician. The point is to make the patient better."

"Why do you take these patients?" McGee asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"These patients must be...real...pains in the neck," Tony clarified. "Always sick. Some people would call the Gulf War Syndrome stuff...hypochondria."

The doctor snorted. "Not when you've got so many people with the same s ymptoms," he said carefully. "And I've found nothing that indicates to me that any of these veterans are crazy or need any kind of...mental therapy."

End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
The Good Doctor by sammie28
WALKER HOME

"Major Geoffrey Walker, retired," Kate was reading from her PDA as Gibbs rang the doorbell. "Married Petty Officer First Class Janice Walker after he retired from the Corps. She's assigned to the Navy Yard. She's out."

He rang the doorbell again. "Didn't you call ahead?"

"Yeah," Kate replied. "He said he'd be here all day with his baby daughter."

"He's a brave one," Gibbs murmured. "A lot of Gulf vets with the syndrome are nervous about having children."

"Did you know anyone...with...it?" Kate asked, looking at him.

Gibbs just turned a hard expression on her, and she didn't ask more. He then pulled out his lock pick.

X X X X X

The door to the tiny home swung open, and Gibbs entered first, his weapon pointed as Kate covered him. They cleared the hall, and as they entered the living room, they saw a large man lying on the ground, his eyes wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

Kate hurried over, holstering her weapon as Gibbs cleared the living room and the kitchen. "Mr. Walker!" she called, patting his face hard as she looked for a pulse. "C'mon, wake up."

Gibbs turned so he was facing the still unchecked hallway to the bedrooms. "Pulse?"

"Shallow."

"Shh," Gibbs suddenly said. "Did you hear that?" He got up. "Stay with him, call an ambulance." Moving as slowly as he could, he made his way down the hall.

"NCIS, Agent Todd, I need an ambulance at 9476 Beaumont Blvd." She clamped the phone between her head and her shoulder. "Yeah, he's breathing, and his eyes are open, but he looks passed out."

Suddenly Walker's body began to jerk violently, and Kate quickly yanked the phone from her ear, turned on the speakerphone, and set it a few feet away. "Walker!" She held his head as he began to convulse.

"Agent Todd!" came the 911 operator's voice over the speakerphone.

"He's convulsing." Kate shifted so she wouldn't be in the way. "He's bleeding at the mouth." She felt her throat constrict.

"We've someone coming right now," the operator radioed. "They'll be there in just a few minutes. Right now, I'm going to stay on the line. Can you tell me his situation? ... Ma'am? ... Agent Todd?"

Kate blinked, holding the man's neck as he continued to convulse, blood seeping out of the side of his mouth. Cmdr. Trapp's face flashed in and out, and she vaguely heard her name. "He's not breathing."

X X X X X

Gibbs made sure to ignore the sounds in the living room, and cleared the small room first. He pointed his gun at the larger bedroom and then heard the squeak again. He swung the door open and stepped inside, weapon drawn.

A small tot stood in her crib, looking at him.

X X X X X

Kate didn't notice when Gibbs came out, the baby sitting in his arms quietly. "What happened?" he asked, noticing the slightly bewildered look on her face.

"Oh, he - " She snapped out of it and looked up, then her expression changed to one of shock, then amusement. "Very cute, Gibbs." When he looked at her, she shrugged with a smile. "Just saying."

"She was standing in her crib," Gibbs replied. "That was the squeaking I heard. What happened?"

"He...he started to convulse, and then bleed at the mouth," Kate replied.

"Who are you?" one EMT asked, standing up.

"Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs replied shortly.

"Who's the kid?" the EMT asked.

"His daughter," Gibbs replied.

"We better check to see if she's okay," the EMT said quietly, taking the non-protesting tot, who just looked at him curiously, and set her down on the dining table. "Just in case." The other EMT stood up slowly. "He's gone."




NCIS HQ

"Wow," Tony commented as Gibbs and Kate returned, the former carrying the baby carrier and the latter with a baby bag swung over her shoulder. "What about rule number twel - " At Gibbs' look, he shrugged. "That's one heck of a secret to keep, Kate," he replied with a big grin, redirecting to a safer target; Kate made a face at him. "What happened?"

"When we got there, we found the gunny passed out on the floor," Kate replied. "He started convulsing...and died."

"McGee, I want her mother found," Gibbs ordered, handing the child in the carrier to Kate as he headed down to autopsy.

"So what's their daughter's name?" Tony asked sympathetically coming around to Kate's desk.

"Pauline. The major referred to her as 'Paulie' on the phone."

"Hi, Paulie!" Tony smiled at the tot in the carrier.

X X X X X

"...and that's all Tel Aviv will tell me. I...."

Tom Morrow frowned, and then he noticed even the MTAC technicians looked confused at the sound. "Daniel, hold on a second," he finally spoke, and the Bahrain NCIS agent fell silent as he watched the director turned to the techs. "What is that?"

"It...sounds like a child, sir," the MTAC technician said.

"I KNOW. What is a child doing at HQ?" He headed out to overlook the bullpen.

Gibbs' team, he mused as he looked down and saw the carrier on Agent Todd's desk, and the petite agent gently rubbing the back of a crying tot while glaring at DiNozzo. "In my office. NOW."

It would be them.

Morrow stepped back into the conference room. "Daniel, sounds fine," he replied, referring to their earlier conversation. "Go ahead and email me your report." With that, he ended the call and headed to his office, just as the agents trooped in. He pointed at the chairs.

"McGee, Balboa, you're sitting between us," Kate said, and when the computer agent looked at her, confused, she retorted, "She cries when she sees Tony's face." Morrow could still see the teary-looking eyes of the child in the agent's arms.

Tony made a face, and Morrow pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Kate settled first, and as the others took their seats, he took time to study the child, sitting sideways on Kate's lap, nestled against her side. She a cute one. There was a fold at her wrists from the baby fat, and when she bent her arm, another fold appeared in her forearms. The director looked at her profile and almost laughed: her nose was a tiny little point just rising out past a round, pink cheek.

"What is going on?" he finally asked, after letting the agents squirm in silence awhile.

Morrow listened to Kate's explanation while watching his agent interact with the small child. Kate entertained the baby with her NCIS badge, holding the thing at a good distance. The tot just kept looking at it, touching the shiny metal with chubby hands. Every so often she started to lean forward to try to put her mouth on it, but without even looking the female agent knew to hold her back and pull the badge out of reach with her other hand.

The director had to admire the child's persistence: she didn't give up, and she didn't fuss; she just kept trying to taste the badge no matter how many times Kate managed to remove the badge just before she got to it.

As Kate finished, Morrow frowned and looked up. "Where's the kid's mom?"

"Don't know, sir."

"She cry a lot?" Morrow asked shortly.

"Nooo," Kate replied, the corners of her mouth twitching ever so slightly. "She was perfectly quiet until she looked at Tony. Don't worry, sir. She doesn't cry when she sees me, or Gibbs, possibly the others."

"We get it, Kate," retorted Tony from the other end.

The director motioned for the agent to give him the baby, and she lifted the child from where she sat onto the director's desk.

He cleared his throat, and two eyes blinked at him soberly. She didn't laugh or smile but just looked at him innocently and sat quietly. Morrow frowned sternly to see the reaction, but she just blinked again, following him with her eyes but not getting agitated. Morrow finally looked around at DiNozzo. "What did you do to make her cry?"

Tony's face spoke volumes about the matter. His slightly furrowed-brow, pouty look appeared, a look akin to the one he wore when his car was totalled for all the nation to see. "All I said was hi."

The corner of Morrow's mouth twitched.

"A face only a mother could love," Balboa commented with a grin, and McGee snorted. The glare from Tony promised a dozen headslaps later, but it was worth it to see the director chuckle.

Morrow looked back from his agents to the tot, who was examining a spot on his desk with curiosity. She didn't look up for a long time, until Morrow cleared his throat. When she looked up at him, he looked at her sternly. "You're not going to cry while you're here," he said firmly. "No crying, okay?" he said, nodding his head. She followed suit.

Morrow picked her up and set her back in Kate's lap. "Don't let her see DiNozzo. And find her mother."




NCIS HQ, AUTOPSY

"I was having enough trouble with Col. MacClellan here, and then you come and pull me off to a new body," Ducky said to Gibbs, who was leavning over the body. "I'm afraid I don't have anything for you on the retired Major Walker yet."

"That's two dead," Gibbs muttered. "That's not a very good record."

"Did you know that in the ancient Song dynasty of China, that was how one was certified to become a medical doctor?" Ducky began as he cleaned Walker's body. "Each student of ancient medicine was given a certain number of students. 1 dead out of ten was considered good, and 2 out of ten not so bad, and so on. What is quite interesting is that the very best served the emperor and his household, but interestingly, they also taught at - "

"DUCK."

Just then the autopsy doors opened, and in came the others, Kate with the baby carrier.

"Took you long enough to get down here," Gibbs pointed out.

"We got called in Director Morrow's office," Tony muttered. When Gibbs raised an eyebrow, demanding a reason, Tony assured him, "It wasn't anything."

McGee and Balboa snickered.

"It turns out Tony," Kate replied, her smile wide as she looked at him, "has a face only his mother could love. Paulie took one look at him and started screaming at the top of her lungs. Director Morrow heard it all the way up in the MTAC teleconference room."

Gibbs smiled, amused, and Ducky chuckled.

"She just didn't get a chance to know me," Tony muttered.

"Oh, I don't think so," Kate corrected, her eyes dancing. "I think she's the wisest female we've met since...I got my dog."

Balboa snorted in laughter. "I think DiNozzo's losing his touch." Tony whacked him in the back of his head.

"Well...it's not like da Vinci just lost his paintbrush," Kate teased.

"Well, she certainly is a cute little one," Ducky replied as he leaned over the carrier, which Kate had put on his desk. "Hello, Miss Paulie. I'm afraid this day hasn't been going so well for you."

The tot looked at him and reached up, latching onto the ME's bowtie. The elderly doctor chuckled and undid the bow, tying it so that there was no loose strings, and gave it to the child to play with.

"Ducky." Gibbs pointed impatiently at Walker's body. "What do you think?"

"Well, as I said at the house, there is no sign of outward trauma."

"He was lying on the ground, with no visible bruises or anything, when we came in," Kate replied. "The only other person in the house was the baby Gibbs found."

"Is the kid all right?" Tony asked. "You checked the kid, right?"

He winced when he said it, because he was sure Kate was going to say something smart or snarky about his concern for the child, but the former Secret Service agent just blinked for a moment at the body, then looked at Tony. "She's fine. The EMT cleared her to come with us."

"What happened?" Gibbs asked, looking over at her.

"Uh, he was lying there, staring up, when we came in. Gibbs moved to clear the rest of the house while I called for back - for...the EMTs," Kate quickly corrected.

Tony frowned, his eyes darting from the body to Kate, who was suddenly looking a little peaked.

"Was he already seeping blood from his mouth, already convulsing slightly?" Ducky asked.

"No," Kate murmured. "It was sudden. He started to convulse...." She trailed off, staring at the body.

Ducky's eyes darted from Gibbs to Tony, then to McGee and Balboa, the latter two looking wholly puzzled. Tony pressed his lips together worriedly, and looked at Gibbs.

The senior agent looked at Kate, frowning.

Kate finally snapped out of it. "Is there anything else you need, Ducky?" she asked, looking at the ME, avoiding the others' glances. "If not, I think I need to go out and get some formula and diapers, at least until we find her mother."

Gibbs looked at McGee, who shrugged apologetically. "No mother yet. Sorry, boss."

"Uh, I'll be going," Kate replied almost nervously, picking up the carrier from Ducky's desk as she headed out. "I'm going to catch lunch then, Gibbs."

There was a moment of silence, and then Tony muttered, "Wow, that was really weird. Is Kate okay, boss?"

"Go talk to that doctor," Gibbs replied, and Tony conceded, knowing he wasn't going to get an answer. The others trooped out.

"Jethro," Ducky murmured when the door had shut, leaving them alone. "Air Force One, Jethro." When Gibbs turned to look at him, Ducky crossed around, looking at him earnestly. "I was feeling a sense of deja vu already. What happened is enough to remind her of what happened to Commander Ray Trapp on the president's plane."

"Walker was bleeding, Duck, and he was already down when we went in," Gibbs pointed out.

"Jethro," Ducky insisted. "The convulsing, the oral fluid. She was the one with Cmdr. Trapp when he died." When the man straightened, he continued, "And it's not just Cmdr. Trapp, Jethro." He sighed, and then said, "Two months after Kate joined NCIS, she asked me if she could see Major Kerry's autopsy report."

Gibbs looked hard at him. "What?"

"I did not think it was a good idea, but she asked, so I let her see it," Ducky replied. "She saw how Trapp died, and that's exactly how Kerry died."

"She's an agent, she's going to have to get over this," Gibbs replied. "She can't break down over every case."

Ducky frowned and put on a chastising expression, knowing to which case he referred. "That night she was so distraught, she shot an innocent boy, Jethro," he replied firmly. "However you might have felt about it, she still felt guilty. For her job she bore it quietly, and she is doing it now, but it would behoove us to be more sympathetic. This case is no different."

"She did everything by the book the time she shot the petty officer," Gibbs argued. "She couldn't have known."

"I understand that statement, for you, would be considered a comfort," Ducky replied gently. "But she has a softer heart."




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"You take a lot of Gulf War veterans," Tony commented, his tone slightly suspicious.

"They need the help," Martin replied carefully.

"The government hasn't even confirmed that Gulf War Syndrome is an actual disease," McGee pointed out.

"Look," the doctor sighed as he sat forward. "Agent Orange in Vietnam wasn't acknowledged for years, either. All I know is that there are veterans coming in here, and they are desperate for some kind of solution. They'll eat what I tell them to eat, they'll exercise when I tell them to. They want to be helped, and so I do my best to do it."

"What's a typical regimen you put these men on?" Tony asked.

"First is exercise and diet," Martin replied. "It's a strict diet of a certain amount of fruits, vegetables, chicken and beef, whole grains."

"Tofu wraps?" McGee muttered under his breath.

"Please, Dr. Martin," Balboa replied, sitting up and looking slightly embarrassed at his coworkers' attitude. "Continue."

"I ask them to walk in the morning, around 7 am, to get in the fresh air, and to certainly exercise, however they wish, but it must include anaerobic and aerobic. For each patient, I look at their medical records and suggest things to avoid and to do. In bed by 11 pm, no eating two to three hours beforehand."

"You sound more like Dr. Phil's weight-loss guru," Tony replied. "You're a medical doctor."

"Yes, I am," Dr. Martin replied, unfazed. "And I know a good diet when I see one. The immune system has to be built up."

"What about this?" Tony asked, holding up a bottle sitting on the doctor's desk. "Pleromades."

"It's a new drug on the market," he replied in much the same tone he had the entire interview. "It's to help suppress some of the symptoms, and help build up the immune system."

"Sounds more like vitamins," McGee replied.

"I'm telling you what I do," Dr. Martin replied, his impatience showing through. "I - "

"Few doctors would extend such care and concern to their patients as you have," Balboa declared, sitting up. "One of the Marines told us he called you emergency when his child's pediatrican couldn't be reached. The VA is lucky to have you."

Martin waved it off, but smiled at the young NCIS agent. "I do what I can." He paused. "I could give you all that rhetoric about honoring those who served and yada yada yada. The truth is, some of the guys...the Marines...they're real pains in the neck."

There were a few chuckles, but Tony merely narrowed his eyes.

"But my father - he served in Vietnam," the doctor continued. "Died there. It's personal for me."

"Balboa, could you call HQ and let the director know we're going to be late to that meeting?" DiNozzo said shortly.

The doctor tried to hide his surprise, but somewhat unsuccessfully. He couldn't believe the senior NCIS agent had just...almost insulted Balboa.

The agent in question realized it, too. Balboa stared back at DiNozzo for a minute, then got up and went out.




NCIS HQ

"Where's Kate?" Tony asked as he came in, McGee and Balboa trailing behind him.

"Hey guys!" Abby greeted as she, Ducky, and Gibbs turned. "We were just getting started. I finally got our chart up and going, and with Bal's information, we should be able to fill in the blanks."

"What did you get from the doctor?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing, except he's a health food freak," Tony muttered. "He pretty much interviews each person and tailors a diet and exercise regimen to them before he'll start the meds."

"He tries to keep them from going on the medicine until necessary," Balboa interjected.

"And he won't show us records," McGee added.

"They are confidential," Balboa pointed out.

"Are you trying to help us, here?" Tony asked.

"Hey, wasn't Kate with you?" Abby asked, puzzled.

"No...I thought she'd be back by now," Tony replied, slightly worried.

"Abs! Chart!" Gibbs pointed at the screen.

"Okay, first, from all the interviews and phone calls you guys got, and all the meds you guys collected: he's got them on different dosages."

"What?" Tony was thoroughly confused. "He's not providing a regular dosage?"

Abby shook her head. "Each of the vets had a different dosage." She flicked on a chart. "The names of the vets are listed in column one, and their height, weight, symptoms, and their dosage. There seems to be some correlation between how bad their symptoms are, their body size, and thus their dosage, but it isn't consistent. I can't figure out exactly what he was using to determine dosage."

"There's no pattern," Gibbs repeated, looking to Abby for confirmation.

"I checked it over a zillion times and have everyone in the lab do it, too," Abby replied, her frustration beginning to show. "Ducky looked over it, Gerald looked over it."

"So maybe it's not something physical that's making the final decision on what the dosages are," Gibbs murmured.

"Well," Abby sighed. "I don't know where else to look. I compared everything - height, weight, already known diseases and symptoms, family history. I don't know what else to test."

McGee frowned. "I spoke with a Mr. Kim, whose wife was on it. He said something about Martin chatting up his patients, asking about their families and support networks. Something about wanting a healthy environment for his patients when he treated them. He isn't using entirely medical criteria to select his patients."

"Isn't that illegal?" Balboa asked.

"He's got dead patients, Bal," Tony retorted. "I think his method of picking patients is hardly a problem right now."

"We've got twenty patients," Gibbs murmured out loud. "Four have died, counting MacClellan and Walker. The previous two were heart attacks."

"We had two of the twenty go blind," Abby added, using her computer pointer to point out the two people on the chart. They were the ones who got the highest dosages, at least from what I tested."

"So we know the effect of the medicine," Tony muttered. "It's killing them."

"But we can't figure out why or how he's assigning dosages," Gibbs muttered, shaking his head. "Keep digging, and keep calling," he replied as he headed out. "Rip that clinic apart. I want a pattern to these things!"




RESTAURANT

"She's over there," the waiter replied, pointing out a dark corner booth to Gibbs, who pocketed Kate's photo.

The carrier was sitting on the cushioned bench beside her, Paulie covered in her baby blanket and just sitting quietly, watching Kate with big eyes but not making a sound.

Kate wasn't really eating - just pushing food around her plate. According to the waitress, she had been there since just a short while after she'd left headquarters; Kate obviously hadn't gone anywhere else, just sat in the corner booth for the past forty-five minutes.

As Gibbs approached her booth, she didn't even look up. "I still have fifteen minutes, and I'll get formula then."

"I'm not here about that." He sat down across from her, studying her intently for a moment. She didn't look up. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't act fine." Gibbs sat back.

He watched as Kate pushed a bit of carrot around and around her plate, sloshing it through the gravy with each turn. They sat in silence for awhile, the noise of the restaurant in the background.

The fork was making its tenth trip when Kate finally spoke, her voice tiny but filtering through the noise. "I wasn't entirely honest that time - about the...Cmdr. Trapp case."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "It's a little late."

"I was holding Cmdr. Trapp when he was convulsing," she said softly. She took a breath, her eyes still on her plate. She stabbed at the pile of mixed vegetables. "He came out, dropped the football, made a joke about dropping the football during an Army-Navy game, and then introduced himself to me. He commented on eating with the president, and then he started convulsing violently in his seat. He was shaking so hard he fell out of the chair, onto the ground."

Kate singled out a pea, poking at it, making it go left and then right. "I was holding his neck, trying to stabilize his head, and there was already foam at his mouth. By the time the EMT got there, he was already not breathing, no pulse. I read Ducky's autopsy report; he died right there while I was holding him."

Gibbs folded his hands in his lap and waited patiently.

Kate sighed, closing her eyes ever so briefly. "I saw Tim's time of death, too. You know, I - I had left just minutes before. Not even five minutes before, and I didn't even need to." She inhaled sharply. "I read the entire report - he had a heavier dose of the venom than did Trapp, everything."

Gibbs pressed his lips together. "You wouldn't have been able to save him if you were there."

"Of all people, Leonard - I just - Leonard." Kate shook her head, still somewhat in disbelief. "He would have been one of the last ones I would have guessed." She sighed, her eyes following the pea in its trek around her plate.

They sat in silence for awhile, and then Kate murmured, "Tim didn't want to die alone." She stabbed at the vegetables. "He never said that out loud, but he was always talking about how the Marines wouldn't leave someone behind; how they'd find him if he died out in combat alone, and all that - family. He lost his parents in a car accident when he was young, and he was bounced around foster homes for awhile." She took another stab at her food. "I wasn't even there." Stab. "I dumped him just minutes before." She stabbed again, more harshly; her fork slipped, scraping the bottom of the plate in a hair-raising scrape and clattered to the plate.

Her boss watched as she sat for a moment, her head bowed, trying not to look at him. After a moment, she managed to take a sip of her soda. "I'm going to the head. Please watch Paulie." She got up, grabbing her purse, and headed off, not looking at him once.

Gibbs looked down at the plate and then waved a waitress over. "Pack this up, please." He took his credit card and Kate's receipt and then handed them to the waitress.




NCIS HQ

"Mother?" came Gibbs' sharp question over the phone.

"Uh, well, boss - " McGee scrunched up his face, waiting for the lecture.

"WRONG ANSWER, McGEE." Tony and Balboa looked at him sympathetically; it was so loud they could hear it.

"Okay, she's at Gitmo." McGee took a deep breath. "Petty Officer Second Class Janice Walker is an Arabic translator," he said nervously. "She was sent TDY to Gitmo two weeks ago to help - they were shorthanded. And, uh, the Gitmo commander told the NCIS agent that right now, uh, the detainees are...more important."

"Did you tell them that right now her husband is dead and her daughter is living at NCIS?" Tony whispered.

"Yeah, we told him the whole thing, and about Paulie living here, and the Gitmo commander said...um...'Well, then you know she's safe.'" McGee winced at the growling coming over the line. "Well, the good news is, her TAD will end tomorrow, so she can call in. Then."

There was a click and a dial tone, and Tony patted him sympathetically.





LOCAL SUPERMARKET

"You didn't have to come, you know," Kate pointed out to her boss as she continued to study her list. "You could have driven yourself back to HQ in the company car."

"Just hurry up." Gibbs carefully removed the tight little fist that had grabbed a hold of his collar.

Kate moved farther down the aisle. She had gone through all of Paulie's things and written down what products she used, and now was in the process of looking for all of them. Considering neither she nor Gibbs had any experience in the area, they had been in that baby aisle longer than anticipated.

She scanned the labels again and frowned; she had to have missed the diaper size that she was looking for. Groaning to herself, she started over.

"You're most likely looking for this size," pointed out an elderly woman who suddenly appeared next to her. "Given the size of your baby." She nodded towards Paulie, who was happily playing with the button on Gibbs' coat.

Kate looked over, and sure enough, there was the one she was looking for. "Thank you," she smiled in grateful relief. "This is the first time I've been baby shopping, so." When the woman looked surprised, looking down towards where Gibbs was playing with the child, Kate followed her gaze. "Oh," she replied in clarification. "We're just baby-sitting for a few days."

"Ah." The woman nodded. "My daughter's staying with me, and she got sick, so I ran out to get some things for my grandson." At Kate's slightly wistful, wide smile, the woman asked, "You thinking about children?"

Kate chuckled, a bit embarrassed. "Someday, I'd like to. A lot of other things have to fall in place first." She saw the woman look quickly at her left hand, and she laughed. "Yeah, marriage to a good guy would be one of them."

The elderly woman patted her arm. "Don't go looking at the exteriors," she advised. "Just 'cause he's an idiot about flowers and chocolates doesn't mean he won't make a good husband and a good father. My Lee wouldn't know a tulip from a rose, but I wouldn't trade him for anything." Kate smiled and nodded, and the lady winked. "I best be going. My grandson will start hollering for food."

Kate nodded. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, indicating the diapers she was now holding.

"Formula's just down there," the elderly woman added helpfully, and Kate nodded, moving farther down the aisle.

The old lady kept pushing her cart down towards the front of the store. She stopped in front of Gibbs, who turned from Paulie and nodded in a quiet, friendly acknowledgement. "Ma'am." He looked slightly taken aback when she narrowed her eyes at him in appraisal.

WHAP She slapped the back of his head. Gibbs looked at her, stunned, as she pointed a bony finger at him. "You get that girl of yours a ring, and hurry it up. She's not getting any younger, and you certainly aren't either!"

Kate now turned back, her arms full of diapers and formula, just in time to see the elderly lady put her arm back down by her side, and Gibbs looking shocked. She wanted to just drop everything and have very good laugh; what Tony wouldn't have given to see that bewildered look on Gibbs' face. Too bad she didn't have a camera; she could make a pretty buck selling pictures of a shocked Gibbs around the office.

She came over, dropping the things into the cart. "What happened?" she asked curiously. Gibbs turned an indescribable look on her, and Kate frowned in puzzlement. "What?"
End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
The Good Doctor by sammie28
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

Martin came to the window right behind the desk, where he could talk to his secretary without the patients in the waiting room seeing. His receptionist smiled tensely and a bit sadly at him, and her eyes flickered to the couple in the seats as she handed him the new folder. As Carrie helped the Johanssons complete the last payment paperwork, he took the time to study the Morgans again.

He let his eyes drift over as he flipped open the folder to read the forms - two sets of handwriting. A shaky one had filled in the first few blanks, and then a clean, crisp writing the rest of the form, followed by his signatures. A signed form allowing his wife to take care of all his medical records accompanied it, the same clean crisp printing followed by what was obviously his signature.

"Well?"

"He brought in his medical records today," Carrie said quietly, referring to Paul Morgan. "Everything since he joined the Corps."

Martin nodded, skimming the folder quickly. Only about halfway through, the man suddenly went into a coughing fit, and Martin could hear the thick, wet sound of the cough. Nina patiently waited him out, giving him water.

Martin nodded and took another look at the file. Classic symptoms: the frequent, severe illnesses, headaches, distraction. He opened the door to the waiting room, where Mrs. Morgan had one hand on her husband's back as he was doubled over. He hurried over, his doctor side kicking in. "Do you need anything? Some - "

"I'm fine, I'm fine," came the half-growl as the man straightened, his eyes still watering from the coughing.

"All right, whenever you're ready," Dr. Martin replied gently. "Just come on back here."



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


SAME TIME
NCIS HQ

"I looked up Martin's father, who was in the Corps," Balboa replied.

"Nice, Balboa," Tony whistled. "How'd you get access to his father's medical records?"

"Got the obit first and worked from there."

"That would explain why he decided to become a doctor," McGee murmured.

"That might also explain why he wants to work with Gulf War vets," Balboa mused. "If some of that stuff about chemicals in the war are true."

"Local insecticides to keep away disease-carrying insects...they can't have been that regulated," McGee replied. "And then there was an incident at a large chemical weapons dump at Khamisiyah in March 1991 - a large chemical blow-up that released a huge plume all over the place. At first we and the British didn't think anything was going on, but UN inspectors found Iraqi chemical weapon dumps broken by bombing, downwind of the troops."

"What do they think was in there?" Balboa asked.

"There's speculation of ispropyl - sarin gas," McGee amended when he saw the expression on Tony's face. "In the Sean Travis case, all he needed was a little in the canister to kill the whole crew. Even almost invisible traces of sarin gas and repeated exposure can be pretty harmful."

"The question here," Tony cut in, "isn't what happened in the first Gulf War," he replied. Balboa and McGee gave him shocked looks. "It's what Martin THINKS happened during the war. He's treating what he believes is the cause of the syndrome in these veterans."



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


SAME TIME
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Does my wife have to be here for my appointments?" the ex-Marine asked shortly, obviously not happy about having her here.

The doctor sighed. Marines were generally the worst. They seemed to think that they weren't allowed to show signs of weakness, although the doctor couldn't figure out why, since their wives saw them hacking up and sick all the time anyhow. "She doesn't have to be present for this session. Even so, Mr. Morgan, your treatment under me will have to be a family effort, and it begins with your wife being here. You signed the release to allow her access to your medical care, did you not?"

"Yes," she cut in before he could. "He did." Martin watched the man's eyes flicker towards her unhappily for a moment, then turn back. "I am at your disposal, doctor."

"You can go for just today." Martin smiled once the door clicked shut behind the brunette. "Your wife is a lovely woman," he began in a friendly, chatting manner. He needed to know how likely it was this Marine would fight to get better. Martin smiled smugly to himself. He was getting quite good at this, in reality - extracting the information he needed. It wasn't all that legal to accept or not to accept patients based on this criteria, but he needed to maximize his chances for success.

From what he'd seen, this pair would work, but he needed to confirm it.

The man's eyes flickered suspiciously to him for a moment, but his voice, though wary, was especially soft when referring to her. "Yes, she is." The gentleness peeping through made Martin smile to himself.

"You been married long?" Martin asked conversationally, marking off some boxes. "My wife and I, we're coming up on our 34th wedding anniversary. In a week, actually."

"Five years."

Martin nodded, and flipped open to the next sheet. He would have gotten up and danced if he could have; this conversation with the unusually taciturn Marine had just gotten easier. "Your file says that you spent time at Bethesda?"

"I was getting physical therapy for a leg injury when I got hit badly by the flu," Morgan replied.

"How bad?"

"I ended up with a fever of 103, couldn't keep stuff down, etc. Nina had round the clock watch on me." It was obviously a slip of the tongue, and the man looked up quickly.

Martin pretended surprise at that but was secretly hopping up and down at the slip. He looked up. "Your wife?"

The former Marine sighed, having lost the battle. "That's how I met Nina. She was the nurse in charge at Bethesda when I was hospitalized for the flu."

"Hospitalized."

"For about a week."

"Must have been a bad flu."

The head bobbed a 'yes.' "A couple of us had it very bad that year. We were all stuck together under Nina's team."

"But she took a shine to you." Martin smiled.

The eyes narrowed for a moment, and the Marine said defensively, "Actually, no. I was less than cooperative - I didn't want to be there and made sure she knew it. Her? She did her job...with gritted teeth. The rest of her team...I think they didn't want to deal with me. As the head nurse, she got stuck with my care. There was no preference on her part towards anyone during the time I was under her watch."

Martin held up his hands in surrender. Touchy. "I didn't mean it that way, sir. I didn't mean to imply that she didn't do her job or that she played favorites."

"Why do you want to know so much about her, anyhow?"

Martin sighed. How had his little plan gone so badly? The truth would work better. "Mr. Morgan," he said quietly, leaning forward and hoping silently that the Marine wouldn't go and tell other people what he was being told now. "It's nothing. It's just that I need to get a good feel for my patients, in terms of what kind of support they have at home. Support is almost essential to your getting better."

"You want to know about my family?" Martin sighed and nodded. "You could just ask."

"Most patients take offense."

"I can see why," he muttered belligerently.

What a typical Marine.

Martin waited and watched the former staff sergeant holding an internal debate with himself, most likely about how much to tell him. The desperation the doctor had been seeing for the last twenty minutes won out, and he started talking. "Nina and I have known each other about seven years, married for five. No children, and neither of us have our parents anymore."

Martin nodded, trying to keep it at an encouraging, chatting level.

"She's got only one sister who...well, didn't approve of Nina's marriage to me." The doctor watched the man's eyes drop to the floor a moment before flickering back up.

"That must have been hard," Martin replied gently.

Paul Morgan shrugged. "I wasn't what she wanted for her little sister. I'm older than Nina, I'm sick a lot of the time, and I was married to the Marines, really, before all this. Didn't help that I pissed her off when I was under her care. I wouldn't let my sister marry someone like that."

"So why are you here?" Martin asked gently.

The Marine looked intently at him. "I need to get better."

"'Need'?" Bingo. Martin tried not to smile smugly, but it was hard.

"I can't keep a good enough paying job because I'm constantly sick, and the stress is no good for Nina."

"That's it?" Martin asked doubtfully, some of his prior enthusiasm fading.

The former staff sergeant shifted a moment in his seat, as if contemplating whether or not he wanted to say anything, and then murmured, "Nina and I want a family - children. She won't say it because she thinks it'll put pressure on me, but I know what she wants, and I want it, too. I can't have a family like this. I need to be functional. I need to be able to work, to take my share of the responsibility."

Martin nodded nonchalantly, but inside he was jumping up and down in excitement. Prime candidate.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


NCIS HQ, LAB

The doors to Abby's lab shooshed open, and there stood McGee with an annoyed look on his face, Paulie held out at arm's length. The others turned; Abby squeaked, "Aah."

Both the child and the agent were orange and mushy yellow, but the former had a happy, content expression while the latter looked supremely annoyed. The tot had food smashed all over her, from an orange spot of baby food on her hair down to a glob which dropped off her knee and onto the floor.

Kate successfully choked back her laughter. Abby just looked on, amused but sympathetic.

"McGee," Gibbs said calmly - McGee cringed, the calm before the storm. "You were supposed to feed the baby. How difficult could that be."

"She...she's not very good and quiet when she's eating, boss."

In reply, she beamed and scrunched up, bringing her knees to her chest as she looked brightly at them.

"We can see that, McGee," Gibbs replied in a tone that clearly said he didn't see it at all.

Kate took the tot from McGee, and Abby pointed to a large sink nearby. She set Paulie on the counter as Abby brought over some soap and began to scrub down the sink.

"Go get...cleaned up or something," Gibbs dismissed McGee. "And then get on that search to find the child's mother!" As the water began to run, Gibbs barked, "Abs!"

"Sorry, Gibbs," she chirped as she dried her hands and headed back to her computer. "Okay. I checked the med samples you brought back for me from - "

There was a happy shout and a splash. Everyone turned to see the tot sitting in the sink, cheerfully spraying water out the side as Kate rolled up her sleeves. Gibbs just smiled a little as he turned back to the plasma screen.





NCIS HQ

Tony and Balboa were still working on the chart when they came into the bullpen. "What've we got on the chart?"

"Everything, boss," Tony replied. "But we can't figure out how he decided to put patients on the medicine."

"Put the chart up on the plasma, take another look at it," Gibbs barked as he tossed his things onto his chair and started out again. "McGee, Kate, help them."

"Where are you going?" Kate asked.

"To the head."

McGee got up, chastened, and went over to where the two of them were sitting before the TV, working on the chart. He was about comment when he heard it again: Kate murmuring to the child how to say "Gibbs," or at least a butchered version of it. It sounded as though she was succeeding. "Is Kate trying to teach Paulie how to say Gibbs' name?" he whispered to Tony.

"Yeah," Tony replied, looking back with a small wince on his face.

"That's kind of cute," McGee commented, nodding thoughtfully. "My parents tell me that my mom taught me how to say 'Da' first."

Tony turned to him with an unreadable expression on his face. "McGee, you apparently know nothing about women."

"What?"

"You think that your mom did - and Kate is now doing - this simply out of 'cuteness'?" Tony shook his head as he sneaked a look back at Kate. "No way."

"So what do you think it is?" McGee retorted in a whisper.

Balboa just chuckled. "The mind of woman is an intriguing place."

"Scary place," Tony corrected.

"For a scary place, you sure like to go there a lot," Balboa pointed out, and Tony glared.

"I AM right here," Kate pointed out sharply. The three agents looked down at where she was sitting in Gibbs' chair with the child, near the plasma. Paulie looked up at them innocently. Kate's look was not so innocent or benign.

"C'mon, Kate, you actually have a benign purpose in teaching that kid how to say Gibbs' name?" Tony said doubtfully.

"And if I did?"

"Why not mine, then?"

"Why would I? She cries when she sees you."

"This yap-fest better be something productive," came the growl. Seeing Kate in his chair, Gibbs pulled hers up.

"I think I know how he picked who got what," Kate replied, turning around to face Gibbs. At that, the three agents standing in front of the large TV turned to look at her in astonishment.

"Glad someone was working," Gibbs said pointedly, looking at the three sharply.

"Myick and Bartlett are single; Mathis, widower. MacClellan, Earle, Kim, Walker, Ruiz, and Gilstrap are all married with children who are fairly young."

"So?"

"But Myick and Kim's symptoms are nearly identical - Myick's even worse, slightly, by Ducky's estimation - based on, of course, his own description, and his old military record, and the most recent records at Dr. Martin's. But here, Myick got the smaller dosage than Kim, although Kim is a woman and smaller in size. Take a look at Mathis and MacClellan. Same thing."

After more examination, McGee straightened, shaking his head as he realized what Kate was pointing out. "In the cases where the symptoms and the body size of the vets are most similar, it appears that the married vets - the ones recently married, with small children, or - well, the ones that are about to have families - are the ones getting higher dosages."

"Exactly," Kate nodded.

"But why?" Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo shook his head. "Maybe he's bitter. Had a bad family life."

"I don't think he's vindictive." Balboa shook his head. "From all of our talks with him - all of us - I think this guy thinks he's helping."

The others turned to him doubtfully. "Helping?" Tony asked.

"We know his father was a Vietnam vet who suffered the consequences of Agent Orange and couldn't be helped. Look at all the people we've interviewed, they all said he was very warm, very caring. He'd take calls in the middle of the night."

"It could be an act," Tony replied.

"No, I think Balboa's on to something," Kate replied. "I think that his guy is convinced that he's helping the vets. That right now he's testing this drug on a few vets, but that in the long run, the benefits will far outweigh a few possible messups."

McGee nodded. "The FDA wouldn't approve the drug or allow it to go for more testing," he said slowly, picking up on Kate's train of thought. "The government won't help him, so he's striking out on his own."

"And the ones who die are unfortunate casualties of war," Gibbs concluded. Balboa nodded at his assessment.

"He's a megalomaniac," Tony muttered.

"Uh, boss." McGee suddenly looked up. "The widower, Mr. Kim, whose wife died - he said when she stroked in his clinic, Dr. Martin had applied an epi-pen or something, like one sees for allergies."

"An epi-pen for allergies?" Gibbs repeated, more concerned now. "He's not treating allergies."

Kate's eyes darted between McGee and Gibbs. "We figured his meds must be really experimental," she murmured. "If he's using epi-pens to control reactions."

"We'll strip search his place to the roaches, boss," Tony assured.

"And talk to the kids," Gibbs added as he started heading out.

"What kids?" McGee asked.

"When we were at the clinic to talk to the doctor, there are a few kids there, and I talked to them," Gibbs replied. "They've been there a few years, volunteering with the landscaping and the garbage, that sort of stuff. They might know something."

"They're a bunch of high school students," Balboa replied doubtfully. "How much help could they be in a sit - "

"They empty trash," Tony suddenly said in understanding, turning to Gibbs for confirmation. The older man just chuckled and headed out. "Between our search warrant and his trash, we'll be good."





DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Good night, Dr. Martin."

"Night, Carrie." Martin sat back in his darkened office, only the desk lamp still on as he looked at his new patient file.

Paul Morgan was almost too good to be true, and a boon when NCIS had begun to investigate him again. Martin was sure it wouldn't be a problem, but it was a lot to take on at once: a new patient and an investigation.

He turned back to Morgan's file. Decorated staff sergeant, who went into the Reserves not long after the Gulf War. He was likely about up for a promotion when he retired.

The symptoms began fairly early, and he seemed to have a bad habit of doctor-shopping - going from one to another. About the time he met his wife - seven years ago, Martin remembered - he seemed to have settled into a better pattern of going to one doctor consistently: a Dr. Eric Westin, who unfortunately retired half a year ago.

No wonder Morgan sounded so desperate for help. Nina Morgan - Martin had yet to have had a patient who had medical experience as a Navy corpsman or who had a spouse who had medical experience. He wasn't sure whether Mrs. Morgan's nursing experience was going to help or hinder him. Thankfully, she didn't seem suspicious of him, and it would help to have another person in the medical field supporting him, besides his own wife.

Martin sighed as he sat back to think about her. He wondered if Andrea would stay with him if he had gotten as sick as Paul Morgan - theirs was far more a business partnership than the Morgans' marriage, at least from what he could see. Oh, he LIKED Andrea well enough, and the two of them got along wonderfully. But she was deeply invested in her career, and they had begun to want different things. He didn't want to begrudge her that career advancement. He liked seeing her happy, and besides, her advancement meant only good things for him and the patients he was helping.

Still, he had seen the way Morgan looked at his wife, and it was something he would have liked to be able to do. It was rare for Marines to display emotion, and Morgan was no different, but the way he looked at her, even when he was rebuffing her attempts to help, was rather intense.

Martin would never say it to the former Marine - or to anybody else, as he had no desire to have Morgan come kill him - but it was obvious the man adored his wife. It was generally reserved, kept back, but it was obvious every time he touched her. Martin was sure that the former Staff Sgt. Morgan wasn't just looking at her pretty face, although she was a stunner; he was genuinely in love with his wife.

On her part, she was an enduring and hardy woman. She didn't hold it against her husband that - Martin could tell - they didn't have all that much money for designer clothes or new ones, period. The slightly faded but clean clothes fit with what he had seen of the pair - not well off, but not dirt poor and certainly not ones to wallow in self-pity. She had a sharp mind and a quick wit, according to his receptionist who had chatted with Mrs. Morgan; and he himself had seen in her a strong will, no doubt a match to her husband's.

Martin chuckled as he closed Morgan's file. Matches and dynamite. Oh, to have been a fly on the hospital room wall when Morgan had gone in with influenza. It must've been more entertaining than TV.





NCIS HQ

"Hey guys," Abby greeted as she came up, and held out the bottle to Gibbs. "Milk's just right. Make sure you check it, though."

Gibbs nodded, then gestured to Kate. "Hey." She blinked puzzledly at him. "C'mon." He motioned her out of his chair and handed her the bottle.

"Why do I have to do this?" Kate balked.

"Because she cries when she sees DiNozzo and McGee can't keep himself or her clean when he feeds her," Gibbs replied shortly.

"What about you?" Kate rebelled. When he turned around to look at her, she frowned. "C'mon, Paulie. Let me tell you why this is still called a man's world."

"Twenty says that she gets Gibbs back," Tony whispered to McGee.

"She's not going to try anything on Gibbs."

"Are we on for a bet?"

"You're on."

"Pull up your chairs," Gibbs replied as he headed off with his ringing cell phone. "Ducky'll be up here in a second to talk to us." He stopped to let Paulie grab at his finger for a second.

The three male agents and Abby grinned at each other as their boss disappeared around the corner. Abby's eyes danced."Gibbs seems to have taken to the tot pretty quickly."

Tony grinned back in amusement. "You have no idea. Who knew he had a soft side."

"Most of the bullpen would laugh, except that they're still afraid of him," Balboa grinned. "Although, when I was in the breakroom the other day, Agents Miller and Bonicello were sighing over it."

"Really," Tony said, his ears perking up at the names of the two female agents. "I gotta get Paulie to like me. Who knew girls dug that stuff so much...and about Gibbs."

Kate shifted as she continued to look at the file on her desk and juggle the child comfortably in her arms, and said absently, "It's cute, that's all. If I had kids, Gibbs would be a good father."

She continued studying the file as she held the bottle gently in Paulie's mouth. Abby looked over at Tony and McGee, a huge smile of amusement splitting her face.

"Reaaaally," McGee found his voice first, giving the word a deadpan spin.

Kate turned around to see four amused grins at her. Abby nodded at her, rolling softly on the balls of her feet, as Tony bounced his eyebrows at her. Kate blinked a moment, and suddenly it occurred. "That came out entirely wrong," she replied quickly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you didn't, Kate," Tony offered cheerfully, still grinning.

"It was NOT a Freudian slip."

"I wasn't thinking Freudian slip," Tony offered in that same tone that promised long torture later. "Were you, probie? Balboa?"

"No, not me," McGee nodded, playing along. "Not...until Kate said it."

"Yeah, me neither," Tony agreed. "Freudian slip...." He gestured quickly, "Does this have to do with you - "

"No, it doesn't, and say any more, Tony, and I will kill you. Slowly. And then dismember your body and dump it in a barrel of alcohol for Bal to find."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Kate," Balboa replied, looking a little green. "One meat puzzle was enough."

"I certainly agree, Agent Balboa," Ducky replied, and they turned quickly to see Gibbs and Ducky standing behind them. "That was certainly a case I do not much wish to remember."

Gibbs brushed past them and dropped into his chair. "Whenever you want to start, Duck. Gulf War Syndrome 101."

"It's a variety of somatic symptoms," the medical examiner began as the others took seats around. "Fatigue, gastrointestinal problems, cognitive problems - difficulty concentrating and sleep disturbances, joint and muscle pain, skin rashes, respiratory problems." He continued to walk about slowly, gesturing a little, like a professor giving a lecture. "I believe some have said that it appears the veterans' immune systems have been affected in some manner."

"What are the causes?" Kate asked.

"Many causes have been considered: oil well fires, vaccines, infections, chemicals, pesticides, depleted uranium, pyridostigmine bromide, and, of course, chemical and biological agents."

"What about something natural? Exotic disease?"

"A virus? Perhaps. Some have suspected mycoplasma or some sort of microsporidia, but research has not confirmed any of these."

"Treatment, Duck. What treatments are typical."

"Generally exercise and cognitive behavior therapy. CBT is meant to help patients deal actively with severe symptoms."

"That explains the diet and exercise Dr. Martin has them on," Balboa said thoughtfully.

"No medicine, though," Tony said, frowning.

Ducky shook his head. "It is extremely difficult to say what is happening here. Researchers do not seem to find any connection to Gulf War Syndrome, but by the same token, we have some very sick veterans. I hardly think so many are hypochondriacs, and the severity of some of the symptoms - well, it would need to be a desperate hypochondriac to dream up such symptoms. It is a terrible matter." The ME turned to Gibbs helplessly. "Jethro, I am hardly an expert on Gulf War Syndrome. I'm afraid I cannot be of that much help."

"Couldn't post-traumatic stress disorder cause this? Excessive stress?" Tony asked doubtfully.

"Could it affect someone to that extent?" Balboa countered with his own question. "Just stress?"

"Well, I must say that stress is actually quite an influence on health, more than perhaps we would anticipate. Yes, I once knew a young student who had unusual levels of hormones, fluctuating at such strange levels it had the doctors puzzled for several months until - "

"Duck!"

"Jethro, what do you want me to do? This is a syndrome not officially recognized and surrounded by so much debate. There are veterans who are suffering severely and who are quite sick and need good care, but at the same time the reports are so conflicting about things and in the media reports, they - "

" - I know, Duck," Gibbs cut off. "What about the meds Martin has been giving out?"

Ducky shook his head. "I don't know. I've never heard of any medicine on the market that claims to treat the aftereffects of Gulf War Syndrome - that is, the syndrome directly. There are many of the usual antiobiotics treating symptoms. For example, should someone get some sort of infection, an antibiotic, and so on."

He held up the bottle. "It must be a very, very new drug - there is almost no information at all."

"Those who were using it seemed to be pretty happy about it," Gibbs replied. "They said they were feeling stronger, more energetic, got sick less."

"Quite possibly. How many people have you interviewed?"

"Between all of us, on the phone and interviews? Twenty. Myick has been on the medicine only a few months, MacClellan was too. Walker, the one who died with Kate there, has been on it for almost a year. Lt. Kim, just two months."

"Maybe it was an accident," Balboa murmured. "Maybe a mix of drugs?"

"Whatever it is," Gibbs replied, frowning, "there's nothing official on it. That's good enough for me. DiNozzo, drag a judge out of bed and get a search warrant. You hit that clinic first thing tomorrow."






CARRIE BARRETT'S APARTMENT

Carrie Barrett groaned as the phone rang again. It always seemed that people managed to call right when she was finally about to relax. Even so, she jumped up from the couch and ran to pick it up. "Hello." She straightened when she heard the voice on the other end. "Sure. Dr. Eric Westin. ... Okay. ... Yeah, I'll see what I can find."

She sighed as she hung up. Another assignment...maybe she would have enough time to do this tomorrow morning.

It was sort of strange, really - she'd never heard of Westin, and most often, the patients who came to Brian Martin had doctors she knew or one of the other receptionists knew. The circle of VA doctors in the area and the doctors at Bethesda were at least slightly familiar.

She didn't think much of it. It wasn't possible to know every doctor, and maybe Westin was just one that had slipped through the cracks.






NCIS HQ

There was a small whimper, and Kate's head shot up from the desk, where she had fallen asleep over her files. She turned to look over at the baby carrier between her and Gibbs' desk, and it wasn't hard to make out two big eyes looking at her. She looked at her computer briefly, at the clock. "It's 2 am, Paulie," she groaned softly. "Please. SLEEP."

"Go home, Kate," Gibbs replied. "You too, Tony."

"Aren't you going home?" Kate frowned.

"I want to finish this."

"Okay," Kate replied, putting on her coat and shutting down her computer. "Let's go, Paulie. This is going to be fun night."

"You always said you wanted kids," Tony teased.

"Leave her here with me," Gibbs replied. Kate and Tony turned to look at him incredulously. "What? You don't think I can handle a kid?"

"Didn't think you'd want to, boss."

"Gibbs," Kate replied doubtfully.

Gibbs waved them off. "Kate, you've been with her all day. And she cries when she looks at Tony."

Tony made a face.
End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
The Good Doctor by sammie28
NEXT MORNING
GIBBS' HOME

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"I've been here before. Don't worry."

Kate and Tony stood at the top of the stairs, looking down into the basement, and Tony choked back a snort of laughter.

Gibbs was sleeping under his boat, the tot sound asleep and curled up on his chest, covered by a baby blanket. Gibbs' hand lay gently on her back. Kate smiled, half in amusement, half at how cute it looked.

"This would make great blackmail picture," Tony whispered, grinning widely.

"Gibbs would kill us and hide the bodies," Kate demurred. "I like being alive."

"Me too." After a pause, Tony said, "You know what's so sad about this?"

"What?" Kate whispered in amusement. "That women like Gibbs better than they like you?"

Tony gave her a look as she smiled, having got one up on him. "No. I was going to say, if that were Chris Larabee down there, and if we were Larabee's boys, that picture of him with a baby would be posters hung all over that ATF office by now with a glossy blow-up sent to Mary Travis by now...and here we are, debating."

Kate chuckled. "So true. Chris would kill them, and they'd still do it."

"I'm going to kill you two if you don't stop yapping," came a voice from under the boat.

The two came down the stairs, and Kate stepped between the ribs of the boat and gently lifted the child from Gibbs' chest to allow him to sit up. Paulie blinked sleepily, and seeing Kate, trustingly nestled into her arms.

Gibbs sat up, groaning slightly, and handed Kate the blanket. "What are you two doing here?"

"Thought you could use the help with the kid," Tony replied, slinging the baby's bag over his shoulder.

"Her seeing you and crying helps me how?" Gibbs ignored the face Tony made. "C'mon." He waved them out of his basement as he headed up the stairs first.

Kate shifted the child to her other arm, and as they headed up the stairs, Tony suddenly said, "Hey, what do you mean, women like Gibbs better than they like me? That's not true."

"Well, let's see. Paulie cries when she looks at you. Paulie smiles when Gibbs holds her. And you know what they say: the only people who tell the unvarnished truth are old women and small children." Kate smiled sweetly.

"You mean like Ducky's mother?" Tony leered, and got a look from Kate. He grinned, then paused and turned around. "So, does that mean you like Gibbs better too?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her to see her flustered reaction.

"What?" she exclaimed, the tables suddenly turned on her.

"Well, I don't know. I don't dream about Gibbs - "

"Forget I made that comment."

" - and wake up screaming his name at - "

"Forget it!"




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"He's in with a patient!" shouted his secretary as Tony blew into the office. "What are you doing?!" the secretary exclaimed in surpise as the two NCIS agents came in without so much a hello.

"NCIS. Front-line jump to St. Eligius." Tony barely flashed his badge before he went back to work dumping files in a box.

"Agent DiNozzo," the doctor replied, coming out, having heard his secretary's protest. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Doc," Balboa began as gently and apologetically as he could. "We're sorry. We have a search warrant for your place."

"If you have anything to hide, bring it out now - we'll cut you some slack," McGee snapped uncharacteristically.

Balboa winced at the tone, an apologetic look on his face as he turned to the doctor. He reached for a closet door, and just as he put his hand down, the doctor exclaimed, "I'd open that slow - "




SAME TIME
NCIS HQ, LAB

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs," Abby nearly jumped up and down in excitement as she ran into the bullpen. "I got the breakdown of the meds you wanted."

"And?"

"It's an experimental drug for sure. I contacted everybody I knew in the FDA and the CDC, they say there's no such thing, not approved, anyway. So, I broke down what's in the meds. It uses what a lot of antibiotics use, a really strong killer that often will kill good bacteria along with the bad," Abby explained. "With the diet regimen he has them on, their own immune systems are functioning well enough to recover.

"Here's the big whoop. He's also got a rather high amount of potassium in there, with a pinch of painkiller, a steroid, and a blood thinner. The muscle spasms some of the Marines are having can be from lack of potassium. Painkiller to help ease the pain of spasms and join pain."

"The steroid?" Kate asked.

"To help with breathing. It's like what you'd find in most asthma aerosol inhalers. A lot of them have excessively sensitive airways."

"Possibly induced by any gas they breathed in," Gibbs murmured.

"The steroid and the potassium..." Abby looked meaningfully at them. "That wouldn't be a potent killer, except they added one thing. You know all those drugs that they give to help in case of a biological attack?"

"Yeah, but those are preventive."

"He's got a slightly altered form of the chemical. Whoever did this, is really good. They took the peptide chain which generally connects to the blood - "

"Abby!"

"It absorbs faster, and the chain structure allows it to hook on to the target it's looking for and destroy it." Abby grinned at her discovery. "But he can't be sure which part of the medicine is actually working - "

" - so he's testing them on his patients!" Kate gasped.




SAME TIME
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"We do not get paid enough to endure this cr-p," Balboa complained as he held a hand to his head.

McGee just rolled his eyes in irritation as he applied medicine to the gash. Martin winced at the apparent uncare the agent took in applying the medication. "We take the same risks, Balboa."

"'Cept nobody else complains about it," Tony said somewhat harshly, handing McGee a large adhesive bandage, which the younger agent stuck to Balboa's forehead. Tony turned away to go through the stuff in the closet.

Balboa glared at DiNozzo, but, at least to Martin, the latter didn't seem to notice.

"I can sit with Agent Balboa," Dr. Martin offered.

"Fine," Tony replied. "Probie, let's go. We got work to do."

As the door shut behind them, Balboa scowled. Dr. Martin looked at him sympathetically. "Tough boss, your Agent DiNozzo."

Balboa snorted. "You should have met HIS boss, and you'd know why." He sighed. "Look, doc, I'm sorry about all this. I think DiNozzo's just acting like that because we haven't found anything."

"That's all right," Martin replied. "I understand. Gulf War Syndrome is controversial."

"Yeah." Balboa sighed. "I wish you had more support."




VA CLINIC

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

McGee watched with his mouth open. Tony shook his head and continued to walk towards them.

"STOP."

"Mr. Gardner told us to burn all stuff here."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about yelling 'fire in the hole' every time you drop a match in. And if you'd take better care of the flame, then you wouldn't be striking match after match or burning your fingers."

Tony watched as the girl made a face at her taller companion, whose reasonableness was obviously punching holes in her fun. Working with Gibbs and Kate, Tony was no stranger to that kind of feeling. "Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, NCIS," he announced, flashing his badge. "Stands for - "

"'Naval Criminal Investigative Service,'" came a third and much excited voice. Tony turned to see a tall, blond boy about the others' age. "Like on TV!"

"Court TV?" Tony asked half-warily, half sarcastically.

"Nope. 'NCIS' on CBS," the boy replied, a 'how could you not know?' tone in his voice. "You know, Mark Harmon, Michael Weatherly, Sasha Alexander. And Illya Kuryakin from 'The Man from U.N.C.L.E.'," he added with a satisfied nod. "My mom used to watch that show."

"Whose uncle?" the girl asked.

Tony just shook his head and smiled. "Anyhow, we were just in with Dr. Martin. Do you know him?" The blond nodded, but the other wo were quiet. "He seems like a really nice guy,"

"Oh yeah, great guy. Feeds us," the chatty one continued with a big grin. "He helps out his patients much as he can."

Tony grinned as he wrote a few things on his PDA. "That's the quality of a good doctor, willing to go out on a limb for his patients. Most of the ones we've talked to said he tries his best to keep their costs down. Generally loads them up with free samples of the medication they need."

There were some nods.

"I have allergies, you know?" Tony held up a handful of Claritin samples. "I was dying one day over there. Dr. Martin gave 'em to me. Although I had to INVESTIGATE him."

McGee had to admit, that was smooth. Tony had gotten those samples from Dr. Brad Pitt the day before.

"He's done that for us, too," the girl finally ventured, figuring it was safe. "Over the counter stuff."




NCIS HQ

"Hey, Kate," Tony greeted, leaning over the half-wall.

Kate jumped in surprise, and looked at him in annoyance. "What."

"I think I know how to get her to like me," Tony replied, waving at the tot sitting on Kate's desk, carefully studying her Cheerios before picking one to eat. "Made a stop after we left Martin's."

"That would explain how long it look for you to get back."

Tony came around, holding up the bag. "Hey, Paulie," he greeted as he crouched to the level of the desk.

She looked up at him, and her bottom lip trembled. She turned and began to reach for Kate. "It's okay, sweetheart," she soothed, gently rubbing the child's back while barely suppressing her laughter. "I'm right here."

Tony glared at Kate and then thought better of it - making grotesque faces in front of a tot who already didn't like him was not a good idea. "I thought she'd like this." He pulled out a teddy polar bear with a small sailor shirt, a toy nearly the size of the child herself. "This is for you," he said as brightly and as charmingly as he could, setting the bear about a foot from her.

"That's really sweet, Tony," Kate replied, smiling. "I'm impressed." Tony just grinned.

They watched as Paulie looked at Kate, who nodded. The small child leaned forward, looking at the bear warily, and then touched its nose. "Yeah, it's for you," Tony encouraged, nudging the bear forward, then placing it within arm's reach.

The small child patted it and smiled at Kate.

"Tony gave it to you," she replied, pointing at her coworker. Paulie looked at Tony carefully, and then held up a Cheerio.

"Hey, the Tony magnetism does it again," Tony bragged, relieved, as the child dropped the cereal into his hand.

Kate rolled her eyes, all goodwill gone.

Gibbs came around the corner then, pausing to look at the scene. He didn't say anything, just observed the child, who now had a secure arm around the bear - as far as she could reach, anyhow. Paulie held up a Cheerio, and Gibbs crouched to her level and she dropped it in his mouth. He leaned over and kissed her head as he straightened and headed to his desk.

Tony watched the exchange with his mouth half-open. "I - not fair! Gibbs didn't even give her anything!" he half-whispered in indignant protest.

Kate smirked at him. "I told you, women just like Gibbs better."

"No way. No way."

"No way what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Uh...no way those kids are going to give Martin up," Tony reported as he came around to his boss' desk. "Especially not to a guy they just met."

"He's good to them," Balboa retorted. "He knows what's going on in their school, he follows their sports teams. Carrie mentioned once Ray's father didn't even know she had changed middle schools."

"So we're back to square one," Gibbs replied impatiently.

"Why are they even working at the VA?" Balboa asked.

"Well," McGee replied, "They and a couple others were helping some old lady as community service for a club at school. She got mad at the blond kid, Sandy, over something small, so he decided to switch out and went to the VA. After she got mad at them again, Evan and Ray - Eirene, the girl - followed him to the VA."

"Yeah, but why choose the VA?" Balboa repeated, changing the stress of his question.

"Looking for heroes," Gibbs replied suddenly.

"What?" Tony's brow furrowed.

Kate nodded slowly as she thought. "When we were talking to them.... One of their mothers is a widow. All three had grandfathers who served. They might be goofballs, but they're not entirely devoid of any feeling toward the vets."

"Okay," Tony conceded. "That explains how they relate to the veterans there, but it doesn't explain how we're going to break their attachment to that doctor. They see him as a favorite uncle. They're just as attached to him, if not more - they see him all the time."

"No." Kate sat forward. "They're not bad kids. They're not going to protect Martin at all costs, they're just duped by him. All we have to do is get them to see a case of someone they respect and see him in sufficient trouble - trouble caused by Martin - and they'll give him up."

"How do we know which ones they have actually met?" Tony groaned.

"Ask," Kate replied. "Use one of the vets they have contact with now to appeal to their loyalties."




VA CLINIC

"Hard at work, huh." The former sergeant Morgan smiled at the students, who beamed back. "You always do this?" He waved at the landscaping they were doing.

"Nope," Sandy replied cheerfully. "It's just that you always come on a Thursday, and that's our dirt day."

The man chuckled, and then handed a napkin to Ray, who had dirt streaks on her cheeks and forehead.

"Thank you," she murmured and proceeded to try to scrub some of the grime off.

"Sir, it's kind of cold out here," Evan cut in hesitantly.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly. "A little cold doesn't hurt anyone." His eyes twinkled. "And I'll tell my wife you did your part in trying to get me to back inside."

Just then Nina Morgan came out of the building, adjusting her purse on her shoulder and giving her husband with a loving but chastising look. "Dr. Martin said cold air isn't good for your breathing problems," she reminded him as she approached.

"Scarf," he replied, pointing at the knitting that was supposed to be covering his nose and mouth but was hanging loosely around his neck.

Nina Morgan made a small face at her husband, but without the requisite anger. At that point, she turned to the students with an indulgent smile. "I missed you guys when we came in. Do me a favor?"

"Anything, ma'am," Evan offered.

"Ever the gentleman," the Marine wife chuckled. "I have a coworker who ought to meet you. And yes, you all can help. C'mon over." She took the bag she was carrying to the nearby lawn chairs set outside and pulled out a large tin and popped open the lid.

Ray's eyes went wide as saucers.

"These are for you." Nina Morgan chuckled at their expressions. "Homemade oatmeal chocolate chip." Seeing their hesitation, she smiled, "I think you can leave your work for a couple minutes."

"Thanks," Sandy and Evan chorused, happily digging in. Evan elbowed Ray, who was still looking wide-eyed at the tin, and she managed, "Thank you, Mrs. Morgan."

"Wow, these are good," Sandy mumbled with his mouth full. "If you don't have kids, can I be one of you - ow," he rubbed his side and turned to his friend. Ray shot him a dark look as her elbow retracted, and over her head Evan glared.

"They're really good, ma'am, thank you," Evan quickly stepped in.

The former staff sergeant grinned, and, winking at them, tried sneakily reaching around for one of his wife's cookies.

"Hey!" She slapped his hand, which got a genuinely shocked look out of him. "Those aren't for you. They're for them." At the kids' slightly nervous expression, Nina replied definitively, "Dr. Martin said Paul shouldn't be eating sugar or caffeinated drinks. That includes cookies," she said firmly, giving her husband a look.

The three looked on in amusement as the ex-Marine tried the sucking up approach, wrapping an arm around his petite wife's waist from behind, catching her tight against him. He pinned her arms to her body and kissed her ear to distract her as his free hand reached for the tin with the other. She didn't fall for it and managed to wriggle a hand free and catch his wrist. "I don't think so."

He groaned but didn't let go of her. "You bake in the morning and instead of letting me have a bite of it, you put all that health food crap in front of me."

"It's good, Paul," she insisted. "I eat it all the time."

Sandy snorted over his cookie. When the ex-staff sergeant looked at him, he quickly amended, "Sorry, sir."

"Your collar, hon." He looked at her impatiently as she turned to face him, trying to fix the twisted up shirt collar. "What did the doctor say?" she asked.

"We better go," Evan suddenly spoke as Sandy replaced the lid on the tin. "Thank you, Mrs. Morgan, for the - "

"That's fine," Paul Morgan shook his head. "It's not big news, you can know. My concentration's better, attention span's better. Dropped some weight, but no big deal."

Evan only smiled weakly and nodded, but as his eyes drifted to Ray, who looked back at him worriedly, and then at Sandy, whose tight-lipped response was to avoid looking at anybody as he brushed crumbs off the seat.

He had dropped a lot of weight for just two weeks, since they had met him after his first appointment. His face was sallow. Evan didn't notice what else there might be, but then he wasn't a doctor. But this was a faster reaction to the medicine than some of the other Marines had had, maybe with the exception of Lt. Kim. He really liked the Morgans - they were a lot of fun - and Mr. Morgan's rapid change was unsettling.

He knew the two others felt the same way, but they weren't doctors and they certainly weren't the veterans themselves, so they didn't say anything. "We're glad you're feeling better, sir," Evan ventured.

"Thank you." The man nodded at them with a trace smile of amusement on his lips. "Considering if I get entirely better, you might not get any more of my wife's cookies." He winked at them while she gave him a half-exasperated look, her smile taking away some of its punch.

They just grinned back at him. They'd rather it that way.

"We better be going," Morgan replied, beginning to guide his wife toward their car with a hand at her back. "See you soon."

"Keep the tin." Nina smiled at them as her husband opened the car door for her.

"I like them," Ray sighed happily as they waved good-bye. "Mrs. Morgan is awesome."




NCIS HQ

Tony came out of the director's office and started heading down the stairs when he stopped at the happy burble coming up from the bullpen. He looked down, and saw that Kate and Gibbs had returned from their afternoon interviews.

Gibbs was reading a file, and Kate was standing next to him, reading over his shoulder. She was slightly stooped, her arms reaching downwards. Paulie was standing unsteadily on her two feet, her arms up over her head, her small hands each tucked neatly into each of Kate's; the agent was holding her steady. She wobbled a moment, and Kate hurriedly looked down.

The small child then launched herself straight onto Gibbs, pulling her hands from Kate's and grabbing onto his pantsleg for balance. Tony smiled a little as he watched the older man look down at her and smile, then flip shut the folder and toss it onto his desk. His boss picked up the tot and swung her high up over his head, and the giggling could be heard even from where he stood, right outside the MTAC conference room.

Kate and Gibbs had been gone all afternoon, and the child had been anxious all the while. She never fussed, but Tony sometimes thought she looked almost abandoned. She'd sit on McGee's desk and look up at the elevator door every time it dinged. She was always disappointed, and then would go back to study her blanket, or her Cheerios, or her new stuffed bear until the next time the bell rang. This had been going on for hours, and even Tony was beginning to feel for the child; McGee, who was watching her, was nearly driven to distraction with nervousness about what to do.

Just then the MTAC conference door opened, and McGee came out. "I just talked to Gitmo, and - "

Tony shook his head to quiet him, and nodded towards their desk area, and McGee looked down to see his boss and his coworker at his desk. Paulie was happily babbling away, Gibbs holding her high above his head and smiling at the small tot's obvious delight. Kate stood next to him, one of Paulie's cloth napkins in hand, smiling her usual wide smile up at the child, who just kept giggling happily and wiggling as she looked down at the pair.

The tall agent brought her down to settle her in the crook of his arm, and she patted his face with her hands. Their brunette coworker leaned over, and gently wiped the child's mouth with the cloth. The tot reached for her, and the man set her into his subordinate's arms.

Tony and McGee looked at each other briefly, exchanging the same small smile.




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Doc, what's the current research in that area?"

"There isn't much," Martin acknowledged. "We're just trying to combat symptoms with exercise and diet."

Balboa nodded and made another note, then rubbed the back of his head slightly.

"Head still hurt?" Martin asked sympathetically. "I'm surprised you drove all the way back out here after what happened this morning."

"No, it's not that." Balboa sighed. "DiNozzo. Slaps us in the back of the head when we screw up." He held up his hands meaningfully, indicating that that was what had happened to him.

"You're joking," Martin muttered.

"Learned it from his boss," Balboa muttered. "Never could understand why he was so popular or accoladed."

"DiNozzo's boss must have been a character," Martin murmured neutrally.

Balboa snorted. "Former Marine, and so everything you hear about them? He's got. This guy steals bodies from other agencies, sneaks bullets out doors, does whatever he wants, and he still gets awarded that 'Agent of the Year' award. Six times!"

"You don't like him?" Martin chuckled.

"My boss, Chris Pacci?" Balboa sighed. "He dies, brutally shot and disemboweled following a cold case suspect. Leaves a family behind. He was by the book, thorough, the whole thing. But this guy...he's NCIS 'bright shining star'," he said sarcastically. "Pacci was...he was a wonderful mentor, as an agent and for life."

"DiNozzo's boss wasn't?"

Balboa rolled his eyes. "He's been married three times. He raises up DiNozzo, who hits on anything with a skirt, and DiNozzo gets to head his own team before most of us others. He gets to inherit his boss' team. He got to keep McGee, you know."

"Inherit? His boss is gone?"

Martin watched as Balboa sighed, as if he wanted to avoid the subject, and then murmured, "He resigned when he married his subordinate agent. Made her wife #4. Oh, and her? She's at NCIS barely two years, and she gets a commendation from the director." He made a face. "Some guys get all the breaks."

Martin clucked sympathetically.

Balboa held out a hand. "Hey, doc, I better get to headquarters. Please keep me updated. If there's a good research institute or something who's looking into Gulf War Syndrome, please let me know. I'd love to donate, or help in some way."

"I've got some literature right here," Martin replied, pointing towards his office. "You got a minute?"





NCIS HQ

When they came down to the bullpen, McGee plunked down his things and got to work, and Tony settled in, but soon he was entirely distracted by Paulie.

The NCIS agent watched in fascinated amusement, clicking his pen, as the small tot again screwed her face up an tried again to shove Gibbs' metal bracelet in her mouth, leaning forward as much as she could, mouth wide open and trying to reach for the bracelet. He didn't know how long he'd been watching when Gibbs hung up his phone and barked at him, "What are you looking at, DiNozzo?"

Tony started a little, "Oh, uh, just...she...the kid keeps trying to...put your bracelet in her mouth." Gibbs raised an eyebrow, a 'so?' expression all over his face. "It...just...you knew."

"Why do you think she hasn't succeeded in fifteen minutes?" Gibbs retorted. He shifted the tot a little in his lap, making sure to keep the bracelet far enough from her mouth. "What have you found?"

"The name of the medicine is from the Greek," McGee replied. "Apparently Martin's wife came up with the name, and it was shared with those kids."

"He told them?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"He must think they're dumber than they look," Tony replied, shrugging. "Either that, or he thinks he's got them in his pockets because he helps them."

Kate entered then, dropping a file onto Gibbs' desk and taking the tot from his arms when he held her up.

"The pronunciation of the medicine is PLAY-ROE-MAH-DAYS, not PLAIRO-MAYDS," McGee added. "According to the girl, it's Greek for 'fullness of life.' She added that according to the dictionary, it was a term used only of God in later hermetic writings."

"Who knew dork school was relevant to criminal investigations," Tony muttered.

"Well, Tony, the girl's name is Greek, too. 'Eirene.' I think she would know."

Tony ignored him, then shook his head at Gibbs. "This guy - he's a megalomaniac, Gibbs. He's playing God."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing new, boss. I've been looking for a long time."

"Maybe you should be as persistent as her," Gibbs replied, pointing at the child, now sitting with Kate.

"Right." Tony nodded, then waved to McGee. "We should check with Ducky and Abby about the stuff from the doctor's office."

The office area emptied again, and for the next half hour the worked in silence. It was quiet enough that Gibbs could hear the small sniff from the desk next to him.

Kate was looking down at the child worriedly. She wasn't wiggling or smiling, just curled up in small hollow of Kate's body formed by her arm. She must've been tired, but she looked so sadly quiet.

It was obviously affecting his agent as she continued to look over the medical records, gently patting the child rhythmically as she continued to study the files.

"Careful, she'll want to eat your watch," he said lightly.

Kate smiled down at the tot, who looked up at her. "Not today." Her smile disappeared. "We need to find her mother."

"Tell that to McGee." Gibbs frowned as a frustrated sigh came out of Kate. "You're doing fine, Kate."

"I'm not her mother, Gibbs," Kate retorted sharply. "I barely know her. She needs her mother."

"Well, until we can get her mother in here, you're doing fine, Kate," Gibbs said in the same tone.

Kate started to get up, and noticed the tot had nodded off, burrowed in the crook of her arm. "She's asleep."

The agent looked down he small child sleeping sadly snuggled in her side, and felt the small burn of anger in the pit of her stomach. She was barely old enough to understand, and her father's doctor had decided to use him like a guinea pig, and her mother's CO had decided that HER finishing an interrogation - it wasn't even Janice Walker interrogating, but translating - was more important than picking up a several-month old child who was living with strangers in an office.

From the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Kate gently pull up the blanket around the tot's shoulders.





LATE NIGHT
NCIS HQ

Tony bolted awake at the small sound, and he blinked a moment, trying to get reoriented. It was dark in the office; it seemed that most of them had fallen asleep at their desks. McGee still had a half-open file on his desk, and for some reason his phone was off the hook.

Oh, right. They all had decided to stay, since both Janice Walker - who had finally been told what had happened - and her sister-in-law were taking the first flights in to Washington and could arrive at NCIS any time.

Then he heard it again: "Giiiiiiiiibbbb...."

Next to him, McGee bolted awake, too, and Tony smirked at him. He was about to be twenty bucks richer. When he saw McGee look at him confusedly, he mouthed, "Watch and learn, probie."

Across from McGee, Gibbs groaned softly and then looked up and toward the desk next to him. "Kate. Paulie's awake."

"Isn't me she's calling," came the voice floating up from the floor.

McGee, who had unwisely decided to take a sip of his now-cold coffee, spewed it across the way at Tony. They both sat up now, the latter wiping his face in annoyance, and looked to Gibbs to see his reaction.

The silver-haired agent narrowed his eyes downward as he came around, and McGee and Tony instinctively stood up to watch what he'd do to Kate, who was snuggled asleep under a blanket by her desk.

He glared at her on the way to the carrier, and but only picked up the child, who continued to cry. Gibbs groaned softly, but took her back to his desk and tried to lull her back to sleep. The crying took awhile to abate.

When it finally did, Tony could swear he saw Kate smirk from underneath her blanket. He turned to McGee and held up two fingers in triumph. Twenty bucks.

McGee scowled.
End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
The Good Doctor by sammie28
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING
LOCAL MIDDLE SCHOOL

Tony smiled down at the main office secretary. "Hi, I'm Tony. I'm with the NCIS, which stands for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service." He looked down at her tag. "Beth. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

McGee rolled his eyes as Beth, blushing, smiled.

"We're just looking for these three kids," Tony continued, pushing a list across to her. "We know they come to this school. Of course, if they're in an academic class, we don't want to pull them out of that."

McGee snorted. Sure, this coming out of the mouth of the jock.

"Sure, let me look them up for you." Beth smiled sweetly as she looked up the names, and then called all three. "They're all in study halls right now, so we'll have them come up to talk to you."




SAME TIME
NCIS HQ

"Where is she?" the woman exclaimed. "Where's my daughter?"

"Who are you?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm Petty Officer Janice Walker," she replied. "Where's my daughter?"

"Right here," Kate replied, gently setting the carrier on her desk, picking it up from the floor. The child nearly bounced in excitement as her mother picked her up. Walker held her child in relief, and the tot happily patted her face and wiggled. Kate smiled at them, just the slightest bit wistfully.

"What is going on?"




SAME TIME
LOCAL MIDDLE SCHOOL

McGee took back his folder holding all the autopsy results, looking at the three students expectantly. "Do you still think those guys are alive?" He didn't much expect an answer; they were still sitting there in their desks, looking shocked. He straightened, satisfied that his point had been made. He doubted they would keep any information from Tony now.

Tony had to admit, McGee was playing 'bad cop' was funny, but he himself didn't want to alienate them so much so that he couldn't enlist their help if he needed it. He turned a desk around so he was sitting right across from them, and then held up a picture he'd snapped of Paulie at NCIS. "You know her?"

"Yeah, that's the Walkers' daughter," Sandy replied, recovering first. "Paulie."

"This photo was taken at NCIS," Tony said bluntly. "She's been living there for 40 hours. Her father died of a massive stroke-heart attack combination, and her mother was being held at Gitmo so she can help translate interrogations."

"Her closest relative and her guardian is her father's sister," McGee replied, driving home the seriousness of the circumstances. "Who lives in Hawaii."

"So she's been living with us until just an hour ago," Tony replied. "Because she was supposed to be with her father, and he was killed by the one man he thought he could trust." He sat back, leaving the photo sitting there before them and waited.

"Okay," Evan finally said as even-handedly as he could, his voice still shaking a little. "But what can we do. We trim bushes. Without power tools and under supervision."

"You take out the trash and you shred, don't you?"

"Only non-medical."

"Like medical files?" Tony saw them look at each other. "Here's what we want you to do," he continued. "I know it's against regs, but take a look at what you guys get to shred. Anything coming from Martin's office or the surrounding offices, keep intact."

"What if there isn't any?" Evan replied doubtfully.

"Then you're off the hook." Tony looked at their expressions. "I know it's a long shot. But right now that's all we got, okay?" He smiled, and then pulled out three business cards and wrote down a cell phone number on each. "This is my card. Don't lose it, and call me anytime."

They nodded mutely, and he got up to put the desk back when Ray cleared her throat hesitantly. "There's a new couple," she said quietly. "They only started maybe two weeks ago. Former Staff Sergeant Paul Morgan and his wife Nina."




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

Martin looked up as his secretary handed him a packet. "This is everything I could find on Dr. Eric Westin. I actually talked to him, too. He said he couldn't talk to me about Mr. Morgan, but he would gladly speak to you."

"Friendly?" Martin asked, frowning.

"Yeah. He actually retired partly so he could go into research on Gulf War Syndrome," she replied. "I talked to his secretary - weird sense of humor, but she's pretty knowledgeable, too. He'd like to see what kind of research you're doing."




KIM HOME

"She...was sitting in the chair when she began to convulse, and slipped from the chair," Kim said slowly. "Dr. Martin's receptionist went and dialed 911 as we took her to an examining room."

"What did Dr. Martin do?" Kate asked.

"He jabbed what looked like an epi-pen shot into her leg." The Korean man rubbed his eyes. "I know, I didn't understand it either. But Seeyoon did have allergies."

"Did it look like this?" Kate asked, holding up a pen."

"Yes, but longer, and a different color."

"Did he mention anyone else having this kind of reaction?"

Kim shook his head.




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Agent Balboa from the NCIS," Carrie's voice came over the line.

"Send him in," Martin replied, and stood when the door opened. "How are you, Agent Balboa?" He waved to the seats in front of him, and the NCIS agent sat. "What can I do for the NCIS today?"

"Nothing, really," Balboa replied. "I just wanted to let you know that the investigation is still open, but we haven't found anything definitive." He sighed. "It's hard enough without the official recognition of Gulf War Syndrome as an illness," the agent continued. "But that, I'm sure you know, given all the help you've provided these vets."

"Well, politicians have their timetable, which unfortunately doesn't coincide all the time with ours."

Balboa snorted. "You're telling me. Anyhow," he stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "I'll keep you apprised. I hope the investigation will be dropped, and you can get on without us on your backs."

"Agent Balboa, don't worry. This doesn't bother me."

"Well, it does me," he sighed. "I'd prefer it if we let people do the jobs they're doing and actually go after those who are threatening us. But" he shrugged. "When I get my own team."

Dr. Martin chuckled. "I'm sure you will. Thanks again for stopping by."




VA CLINIC

"Hey guys," Nina Morgan greeted as she came around to find them working in the recycling area.

"Afternoon, ma'am," they greeted as cheerfully as they could, but that morning's talk with the NCIS had dampened their spirits.

"Are you guys all right?" she asked concernedly.

"We're fine, ma'am."

Deciding that there wasn't any more coming from them, she produced a tin of cookies, and, looking at their hands, produced a small tissue packet. "Come eat. You can use the tissues so the food doesn't contact your hands." She waved at the gathering on the far lawn. "What's that?"

"That's the annual WWII veterans gathering," Evan replied with a smile, relieved at the subject change. "They have a picnic and '40s music."

Nina Morgan chuckled. "That's nice. They aren't many WWII vets left." She smiled. "That's Benny Goodman," she said softly, a distant look in her eyes. At the surprised look, she smiled. "They...have monthly get-togethers at the hospital where I used to work," she explained. "I'd go down to help. The WWII vets would come in from the VA nearby, fuss over some of the younger sailors and Marines in the hospital. Music, poker, stories. It was good for the patients, too, and for those WWII vets." She chuckled. "Some of them tried to matchmake."

Evan saw Ray furrow her forehead slightly, and then asked what they were both thinking: "Did you...meet your husband there?" The question seemed to hit the woman harder than they'd expected, and Evan quickly backpedaled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to - "

"No, no." Nina Morgan shook her head. "It's fine." She took a deep breath, as if thinking it over. She chuckled. "He...I had been his nurse for about a week. He was driving me insane, and I couldn't wait to be rid of him." The Marine wife chuckled when she saw Ray's mouth drop.

"The get-together was the Saturday after my week in hell with him. I was done with my part and was about to go when he came to apologize." She laughed when she saw them, completely absorbed in her story. "He apologized. Very nicely. He asked me to dance, but we didn't finish out the song. His leg was hurting him."

"You dance a lot?" Sandy asked.

"Used to," she replied. "When I was younger. Now," she shrugged. "My days are very full, and" she became quiet. "Gatherings of patients will often have someone very sick, and they take a lot of energy to get through," she said quietly. "Paul...went a few times with me, and he tries to sit through the whole time, but." She smiled a little sadly. "It's not worth it to try much."

The three fell quiet. "Do you regret it?" Sandy asked softly. ""Marrying him?"

"No," she said firmly. "No, never." She chuckled. "Marriage takes work, and it has its ups and downs. I woke up this morning, looked at him, and thought, 'I can't believe I'm tied to him for the rest of my life!'" At their shocked expressions, she laughed. "It happens. The first month of my marriage I kept falling in to the toliet seat because he left the seat up."

She smiled as the children grinned, and then her expression turned softer and serious. "He has things that bug me," she said quietly. "But I don't regret marrying him for a second, and I don't plan on divorcing him." The three smiled at her. "Kill him, maybe," she teased, her eyes twinkling, and they laughed.

The automatic doors shooshed open, and her husband came out. Nina Morgan winked at them. "How'd it go?"

"Good," he said absently, more intent on watching the gathering farther down. People were milling about to the music, some dancing, many eating. "What's that?"

"WWII vets gathering," Nina replied, getting up from her seat and brushing her pants off. "Ready to go?"

Another song came on, and Paul Morgan turned to his wife, cocking his head at her, a soft expression in his eyes. He held out a hand to her, and her look of confusion grew.

Evan smiled a little as he watched the vet fold his wife closer to him. His right hand rested lightly on the small of her back; his left hand, holding hers, he curled into his shoulder. She rested her head against his shoulder, and she came up to his chin. He touched his lips to her forehead ever so lightly as they moved slowly; there was little evidence of the bum leg except for a slight shuffle on the Marine's part.

The boy looked over at his two friends, and Sandy grinned at him as Ray continued to watch unabashedly, chin on hand, as the pair danced quietly, just there in that quiet corner of the parking lot.




6 MONTHS LATER; TWO WEEKS BEFORE PRESENT DAY
NCIS HQ

"Where are your reports on the murder case?" Gibbs asked, and Kate and Tony promptly got up, dropping their reports in front of them. "Good."

"Hey, uh, Balboa called," Kate said. "He wants to know if we're going to continue the Martin case."

Gibbs sighed. "It's still open."

"We're still tracking all his patients," Tony added.

"Have you heard from the kids there?" Gibbs asked.

"They don't say much, besides that they see some of the same Marines who are losing weight but looking sharper, and that the Morgans still bring them cookies," Tony recounted. "McGee went out to talk to the former Sergeant Major Gilstrap again."

Just then the phone rang. "Gibbs. ... What?" The expression turned angry. "We're coming. That was McGee," Gibbs bit off. "He just sent Gilstrap to the ER."




DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

"Agent Balboa, hi," Martin greeted with a big smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Doc," Balboa grinned. "I just want to thank you for the information about your father-in-law's company, Zetech. I looked it up. It's great. I'd like to buy some stocks in it." He handed him a check.

Martin beamed. "I'm glad. He could use the support." There was a knock, and then the door opened. "Oh, Eric! Dr. Westin, Agent Balboa, NCIS."

The two greeted each other, and the elderly doctor smiled warmly. "Well, Brian, I'll wait for you right outside; I'm sorry to have intruded upon your meeting. Pleased to meet you, Agent Balboa."

"Likewise."

Martin chuckled as the door shut behind him. "He's a good guy. Now, you had something else?"

"Your case is still open," Balboa murmured. "Doc, I'm sorry." Just then his cell phone rang. "Balboa. ... DiNozzo, I'm working on another case. ... What? I'll be back at HQ. ... But I thought - " The phone clicked off. "They're going to bring you in." Balboa swallowed. "Gilstrap just got sent to the ER. Tony's coming to bring you in."

"What do I do?"

"Shred as many files as you can. You don't have a choice!"




NCIS HQ

"You said you called ahead of time."

"I did! Agent DiNozzo's voice mail box is full."

The security guard looked down at the two kids, barely suppressing a smile. "I'll call up to Agent DiNozzo."

Evan thunked his bag down impatiently as they waited. The security guard finally hung up his phone. "C'mon. Joe down there" he pointed at the guard down the hall "will take you upstairs."

"Thank you, sir," Evan replied, then poked Ray, who was looking around. "C'mon." The other guard scanned himself into the elevator and let them on. The doors dinged open at the bullpen, and he was just leading them off the elevator when they nearly ran into a man heading in. There was an audible "uh-oh" from behind him.

"Oh, hi, sir, I - "

"Staff Sergeant Paul Morgan, retired," the man replied. The guard frowned but shook the extended hand. "Hey, guys."

"Hi...sir," Evan managed. Ray just swallowed, opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut her mouth again. "How come...you're here?"

"We were asked to come here to speak to Agent DiNozzo," Morgan replied. "What about you?" He looked around at the two bags, which the two teens quickly shoved behind them as much as they could - not that they could hide them easily.

"Hey, I - "

"Look who's here," Morgan suddenly spoke up, turning to the pretty woman coming up behind them.

"Evan and Ray." Nina Morgan looked surprised but smiled at the two students, who smiled shyly back at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Agent DiNozzo invited us for a tour," Evan replied hurriedly before Ray accidentally blurted the truth.

"What's the par - " Tony raised an eyebrow when he saw the two students standing there, bewildered. "Hey." Gibbs would kill him now...not only did the kids see the Morgans at NCIS, he hadn't been there to smooth over any possible misunderstandings. Who knew what either had heard. "Joe, you can go. Thanks for bringing the kids up. Actually, could you escort Mr. and Mrs. Morgan out?"

"We can show ourselves out," the man replied. He hit the elevator button and waved for his wife to enter first.

"How come the Morgans are here?" Evan blurted the minute the elevator doors closed.

"I had to talk to them," Tony replied gently. At the worried looks on their faces, he shook his head. "Procedure. Considering they might be the next victims, well." He pointed at the bags. "Now. What's this?"

"Oh," Evan grinned wide. "We got handed medical files from Dr. Martin today to be shredded." Seeing Tony's frown, he said, "Don't worry. Most of this is white paper. We knew you'd want the records, so we tried to find something else. We shredded about twenty pages before Ray got the idea to shred the reams of white paper all over the copy-shred room."

"Nice thinking," Tony replied with a nod of admiration. "That must be a lot of paper."

"Um, you now owe the VA two boxes of blank copy paper," Ray replied sheepishly. "And Sandy needs a note. He shredded the test he failed and had to have signed."

Tony snorted. "Convenient," he commented. "Okay, well, we'll get - "

"Actually," Evan cut in. "Can you get the two boxes of paper and take us back to the VA right now?" He took a breath. "We put the rest of the files into the empty copy boxes and hid them. We'd prefer to get the files and restock the paper before we get in trouble. Right now Sandy's still there, dreaming up excuses in case anybody asks."

Tony nodded. "McGee!" he called, and a set of keys came sailing through the air right into his hands.




NCIS HQ, LAB

"I heard Gibbs is pissed," Abby said with a grin, looking meaningfully at McGee.

The probie made a face. "Yeah, well. When Tony gave those kids his business card, he didn't figure on them actually calling him. He turned his ringer off when some crazy ex started calling him, and apparently she filled up his office phone inbox."

"Oooh, the one who wears Mary Kay?" Abby asked.

McGee stopped as he turned to her. "I don't know. How do you know?"

"Tony told me about her," Abby replied, shrugging.

"How come he always tells YOU this stuff?" McGee replied, frowning even more deeply.

Abby just grinned. "What happened to make Gibbs mad?"

"Two of the three kids showed up at headquarters with huge bags of shredded paper...and ran into the Morgans," McGee replied meaningfully.

"Oooh." Abby shook her head. "No wonder Gibbs was pissed."

"I think Tony was sure he was going to eat him alive right in front of the kids."

"Where is Tony?"

"It's kind of complicated. They boxed up the other medical files they were supposed to shred and hid them in the yardwork they usually do. Tony's taking them to pick it up."

"So...what do you need my help for?"

McGee led her out to the outer room of the lab and pointed to the two big bags. "There are twenty pages of medical records shredded in there, a graded test, and lots of blank paper. Gibbs...wants those twenty pages back."

"That's nearly impossible! It's why it's called a shredder."

McGee winced sympathetically. "Tony says you can get the kids to help you," he tried comforting her.




NCIS HQ, INTERROGATION

"How we doing, guys?" Tony asked, opening the door to the interrogation room and carefully wading into the sea of shredded paper. He set two pizzas on the table. "These are for you. Just don't get the papers greasy."

"Are we in trouble?" Ray suddenly asked.

"Why do you say that?"

She pointed to the interrogation room mirror.

Tony chuckled. "No, you're okay. But this is the only bare room in the headquarters. There's lots of classified stuff going on here, so I can't let you wander around the building. You might see something you're not supposed to." He then widened his eyes in scary-assassin style fashion and half-whispered in threat, "And if you do, I might have to kill you." He watched with amusement as she started back slightly. He grinned and straightened. "So, how're we doing?" he repeated.

"Well, that's all the pages without writing on it," Sandy replied, pointing at a white heap in one corner. "These are all the ones with writing on double sides, and this middle one with writing on one side. And we're still working on it."

"Agent McGee said you have a lab technican who can scan all the pieces and have a program try to fit the pages together," Evan said hopefully.

"Yeah, we do," Tony replied, nodding. "McGeek's helping her write it now. It's like computer nerd convention."

"I got it!" Sandy suddenly exclaimed. "It's been bothering me all day."

"What's been bothering you?" Tony asked, continuing to write notes into his PDA.

"I always thought you looked like someone," Sandy replied excitedly. "That guy on 'Dark Angel'!"

"Really." Tony grinned and set down his PDA. "'Angel'...I suppose it was a TV show about a woman?"

"Oh, yeah," Ray replied. "The 'angel''s a woman who fights crime."

"And the guy I look like?" Tony asked with a big grin. "Crime fighter, packin' heat, getting the girl?"

"Actually...he didn't carry a gun," Evan replied slowly. "He wore glasses and sat in front of a computer all day and talked about coordinates." When Tony's grin fell off his face, the boy shrugged apologetically.

"And the girl he loves, well, I think she gets some disease and he can't even hold her hand or something," Sandy continued. Tony's frown turned into a look of horror.

"He got to fight crime," Ray offered hopefully. "Even computer math geeks count as fighting crime." Tony turned to look at her, an indescribable look on his face. "What?"

Just then the door opened and McGee came in; Tony stood up to go out, the same look of some kind of horror on his face. "Something wrong?"

"You know when I said I'd rather be homeless than be you?" Tony said, frowning.

McGee made a face.

"I'm you." Tony stalked out the door.

McGee watched with a furrowed brow as the door shut behind his colleague, then turned to the three beaming students with a huge grin as he held out a twenty. "Thank you."




NCIS HQ, AUTOPSY

"The medical records will make a significant difference," Ducky noddded. "Is it legal? Patient records are confidential."

"He handed them to the kids," Gibbs replied. "Most likely so he wouldn't arouse suspicion, if they've always done the shredding."

"I had a friend from high school whose college job was to ply through all the alums' personal files," McGee replied. "Shredded, too. When you're in a crunch, I guess you'll do anything."

"All right, but how legal is it for us have this?" Ducky asked.

"He handed them to the children to shred. Those kids shredding would be...obstructing a federal investigation."

"That will work for me," Ducky nodded. "Now the last order of business. I need to know what is in that epinephrine-pen, the antidote used on Lt. Kim. I cannot tell from her autopsy which chemicals she was injesting from the medicine and which was from the pen. If it's the dangerous drug I suspect it is," Ducky sighed, "then we will have him."

"He's not going to hand those out, Duck," Kate replied. "Barring another patient nearly dying on his table and us catching it in time."

"Don't worry, Tony's got Martin's secretary," McGee replied. "She promised to call if something went wrong."

"How'd you guys get her on your side?" Kate asked curiously.

"She's been there several years," McGee murmured. "She's seen a lot. All it took was a hard look at the facts to make her suspect something was wrong." He shrugged as he looked at Ducky, Gibbs, and Kate. "Now all we do is wait for the victim."




PRESENT DAY
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC

Martin stopped mid-sentence, concerned, when he saw Morgan swallow again. Nina Morgan had stopped listening to him several minutes ago, watching her husband concernedly. "Paul?"

"I'm fine," he whispered. "I just...can I lay down a bit?"

At that, Martin watched his wife's face suddenly grow even more concerned. It was the first time he'd heard the man ask for anything pertaining to rest since he'd started six months ago.

Martin nodded quickly, standing up and opening the door. "I'll put you in one of the examining rooms with a larger table." He shifted nervously when he noticed the former Marine leaning heavily on his wife as they moved out of the room. "I'll let you rest a bit, and we can continue whenever you want. If you want to reschedule, that's fine. There'll be no charge for today."

"Thank you, doctor," Nina replied gratefully.

Martin nodded, smiling, and closed the door behind him. He came out just in time to see Dr. Westin behind him. "Eric," he greeted him.

"Ah, Brian. Patient?" the doctor greeted genially.

"Your Mr. Morgan, actually. He's feeling a little sick, so he's lying down."

Dr. Westin raised an eyebrow as he saw his former patient exit, his wife's arm wrapped securely around his waist. "Head call," she apologized.

"Doc, I'm fine. Nina, I can go to the head by myself."

"Let me stand outside the door."

"I can live with that."

X X X X X

He was only in the bathroom a few seconds when there was a loud crash. Nina threw open the door to find her husband on the floor, his hands sliding off the sink porcelain. There was blood mixed with saliva in the sink.

"Paul!" she hurried to his side.

"Get him on the table!" Martin shouted, motioning to his fellow doctor as they bodily dragged the veteran into one of the examining rooms. The elderly Westin proved much younger than he looked, more than holding up the sick man on one side, with the Marine's wife on the other. Martin threw open the door to let them inside.

The two doctors eased the veteran onto the table, where he continued to choke, gasping for air. His wife was close behind, maintaining an amazing calm and trying to situate her husband despite the obvious panic in her eyes.

Suddenly the man on the table began to convulse, his back arching, his body twisting horribly, his eyes unnaturally wide. Westin dashed forward, trying to help Nina Morgan hold her husband on the table.

The convulsing worsened and blood began seeping from his mouth. Westin looked up at Martin, panicked but hopeful and expectant that he could do something. Nina was holding her husband's head steady, trying to keep him from smashing his head against the table, begging him to look at her. She turned a pleading look to Martin, her eyes brimming with desperate tears.

Martin blinked helplessly, as if he were reacting in slow motion to a train wreck.

X X X X X

Outside, Carrie Barrett flinched at the sudden keening noise from the back room. She had waited too long - how could she have agreed to wait? Good God in heaven forgive her; she couldn't believe she....

Nina Morgan was crying in the back room. Carrie could hear it even over the doctors' shouted directions. She knew what would happen - Doc Martin had told her before. He had a sudden shot of medicine that was supposed to help counter...come to think of it, he had never said what it was supposed to counter.

911 was her first call, and the throaty voice that answered seemed to her to be too calm.

She hung up and managed to find the business card she was looking for; her shaking hands nearly dropped it. She quickly put it down on her desk and frantically dialed Agent DiNozzo's number. It didn't matter what happened to her close friend now - a woman was losing her husband in the back room. She grabbed the phone.

"DiNozzo."

"It's Carrie Barrett."

X X X X X

Morgan was convulsing on the table, his eyes unnaturally dilated, blood seeping through the corner of his mouth. His wife was leaning over him, holding his head to try to keep him from hurting himself. To Martin's trained eye, Nina looked like she was doing everything correctly as she desperately tried to help her husband. His eyes suddenly rolled, and the woman's gasp had Martin and Westin wincing. Her low, repeated "No, no" were bordering on tears even as it seemed he was going to go into some kind of cardiac arrest.

Westin entered with the electropads for the shocking, and Martin panicked. He ran to his office and broke open the tiny safe hidden behind a few books and grabbed for the antidote shot. He yanked the cap off and was about to stick it in Morgan's thigh when his wife quickly reached across. "Let me do it. He hurt his leg again the other day."

Martin didn't argue, just handed her the pen. In his panic, he didn't notice Morgan stop convulsing. He certainly noticed it when he sat up.

"Kate?" The silver-haired Morgan said quietly, staring at Martin with clear, hard blue eyes. Kate? Martin puzzled to himself. "Got the pen?"

Nina Morgan handed up the bagged pen to the Marine with a pair of latex gloved hands. "Right here. My prints are on it. The cap's on the floor; hold on." She pulled out a small pack of tissues from her purse and tossed them to the older man, who wiped the blood from his mouth...and then spit out a little ball which appeared to be oozing 'blood'.

Morgan didn't look sick at all.

He slid off the table, taking the time to toss the dirty tissues into the garbage can and then snapping on latex gloves. "Got the cap, Gibbs," came a voice from the floor. Martin watched in confusion as Paul Morgan pulled his wife to her feet.

He then took the bagged pen and waved it before Martin's eyes. "What are we going to find in here? What is it you put in here and shot up Lt. Kim with?" There was a dangerous smirk on his face. "So, Duck. How did...the good doctor do?" he asked, never taking his gaze off the man in front of him.

"Not well, I'm afraid," came a distinct British accent.

Martin's head snapped around to stare at Westin. The tone was right, the pitch was right, but that distinct British accent was certainly NOT there before. "Eric?"

"Dr. Donald Mallard," Nina Morgan replied, stepping up to him, a mirthless smile playing on her lips. "Medical examiner."

Martin shifted nervously, taking a step backward. He was almost afraid to ask. "Who are you?"

'Paul' and 'Nina Morgan' smirked. "Agent Gibbs and Agent Todd," the man replied, his grin widening. "NCIS."
End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
The Good Doctor by sammie28
"I can't believe this is happening to me!" Martin nearly shouted as Agent DiNozzo cuffed him. Just mere minutes after he'd discovered how badly he had been duped by his newest 'patient' and his 'wife' and his 'former doctor,' the NCIS he'd known as NCIS had come through the door, DiNozzo smirking as he pointed a gun at him.

"Read him his rights, Tony," Gibbs had barked.

McGee had reappeared a little later, Tony's voice still going on in the background, reading the doctor his rights. "Boss, I found where's he's been keeping those pens he tried to use on you and he used on Lt. Kim. He keeps them in his small safe in the wall. Never would've seen it."

"Bag and tag it all, McGee."

As they led him into the waiting room, he avoided the gaze of his patients but couldn't help looking at his receptionist. She looked forlornly at him, almost a mix of disgust and sadness. "Carrie?"

"You killed them," she replied, shaking her head as if she still didn't believe it. "How could you test that on them?"

"I didn't - "

"They told me everything," she snapped.

Balboa appeared at that moment, and for some reason, he didn't look as sympathetic as he generally did. Martin counted on the fact that he had to keep up an image before his fellow agents.

McGee and Balboa each took one of Martin's handcuffed arms and began to lead him out. They were just at the door when the three men stopped.

The three kids were standing in the doorway, mouths slightly open, a look of disappointment mixed with horror on their faces. They stared at them speechlessly, eyes darting from the doctor to the agents and then back to the doctor.

Several feet away, Gibbs, Kate, and Ducky were cleaning up, Gibbs wiping his mouth after having rinsed out the faux blood. They came up behind McGee and Balboa, and Gibbs leaned over to look and saw the children's faces; their disppointment was visible even at a distance.

Gibbs would be the first to keep kids from developing hero complexes, but he would be the first to thrash anyone who could so hurt a child. Yes, they were older, but they were still children, and the let-down they seemed to try so hard to mask was quite evident on their faces.

"Guys," McGee said quietly, gently. "We need to take him out."

"Oh," the three stammered, shot back into reality, and backed away.

"Is Mr. Morgan dead?" Evan managed to voice what the rest of them were thinking.

McGee chuckled. "In a sense. But not what you're thinking." He tilted his head at the door and smiled as nicely as he could.

The three headed to the door, almost fearfully, and Gibbs nodded for Kate to go first. "Hey guys." She smiled. "Don't worry, we're all okay."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"We have something to tell you," Kate said gently, and Gibbs appeared. "Um, we...know...six months is a long time to play you. But...the Morgans don't exist." She tried not to smile at the blank looks she was getting. "My name's Kate. Todd. I work for NCIS, the same group Tony DiNozzo and Tim McGee work for. And this my boss. Agent Gibbs."

There were stunned looks, and Sandy blurted first, "Isn't it against federal agency regulations to marry a subordinate agent?"

"Where'd you learn that?" Gibbs replied, his eyes twinkling at them.

"TV," Evan muttered.

"We're not married," Kate replied. "We were undercover." There were a few dubious looks, and she repeated, "We were undercover."

"Did a unbelievably good job," Ray muttered under her breath, but apparently it wasn't so silent when Kate blushed and Gibbs just smiled. Evan elbowed her.

"So...he did it?" Evan asked quietly. "What...what Agent DiNozzo said he did? Testing the medicines on the Marines, and...killing 'em?"

Kate just smiled sadly at them, and that was enough confirmation. "I'm sorry." She smiled at them. For a moment, she briefly wondered how much she would miss their antics; she'd seen them weekly for the past six months, whenever she and Gibbs had come to keep up their ruse before Martin.

"Come see us," Gibbs replied, handing them his card. "We'll give you a tour." He smiled down at them.




Martin glared at the smirking Tony as the door opened again and in came Balboa. "Hey Tony."

"Hey Balboa."

The doctor sneered at DiNozzo. "You ought to talk to this corrupted creep. Ask him how much money he got."

"Actually," Balboa corrected, "That would be how much money NCIS recorded in your attempts to bribe me." At the doctor's confused look, Balboa turned to Tony. "We're going out for drinks later. Wanna come? I already asked the others, and McGee and Abs and Ducky are all coming."

"Sounds good."

"Oh." Balboa, smirking, pulled out a small USB drive and held it up for DiNozzo. "Six months' worth of Dr. Martin's phone bribery."

Tony grinned, plucking the drive from Balboa's fingers. "You're da man, Bal." The other grinned.

The doctor was looking confused. "You told me you needed the money!" he exclaimed to Balboa, who turned to look at him.

"Well, sure, everybody who's stuck in a federal job could use the money," Balboa replied innocently.

"What about your family?"

"I'm single, I live in apartment, and I have the same maid that does DiNozzo's apartment."

"She workin' out for you?" Tony asked concernedly, ignoring the seething perp.

"She's great. Fast, efficient, and inexpensive. I could do without the weekly lectures about being a slob, though." Balboa nodded toward the door. "Gibbs wants to talk to him."

"How could you do this to me," Martin hissed. "You told me that you wanted to help the research into Gulf War Syndrome. You agreed to a financial deal to buy stock in Zetech!"

Tony chuckled. "You mean when you tried to bribe him with stocks in your father-in-law's biomedical pharmaceutical company? Real subtle, doc. Real subtle. What, you think you could buy out another NCIS agent's silence by getting him inside trading stocks in the company?" He leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "Y'know, ole Martha ended up in the brig for inside trading."

Balboa just grinned at the doctor. "Nice try, pal. Nice try." He snorted, shaking his head in amazement. "Did you ever consider that one of these days, you might run into a NCIS agent who couldn't be bribed? Or did your egomania think that you could sucker everyone?"

"You betrayed me," the doctor hissed, the hurt evident in his face.

The two agents' demeanor changed suddenly as they turned to the man, the cheerful, even gleeful bantering entirely gone.

"I betrayed you?" Balboa asked in a low voice as he leaned across the table into the man's face. "I betrayed you?"

"You had those patients' trust, and you killed them," Tony continued. "Who's the one doing the betraying?"

"I was helping them," the doctor hissed, standing up to face them. "They needed me. They needed my medicine. I could heal them. I can't help it if they didn't take it in proper dosages."

Tony widened his eyes, indignant. "You gave them the dosages!"

"Hey, uh, Tony." Balboa poked him as Gibbs and Kate entered. "Gibbs wants to talk to him." The agent patted the doctor's shoulder cheerfully, his grin wide. "I'm sure you'll love Gibbs as much as the rest of us."

"Just in case you forgot," Tony said half-gleefully, "since you knew them differently for six months - AGENT Gibbs and AGENT Todd. NCIS. Just so you're clear, Doc Brian."

"You mean Doc Bastard. With a capital B," replied Nina - Agent Todd. Martin frowned.

The silver-haired agent turned to her, a trace smile on his face and an eyebrow cocked in question.

"You get the one with the little b." Kate smiled, and Gibbs just shook his head.

The man gathered his wits about him and lashed back. "So you're Agent DiNozzo's boss?" Without waiting for an answer, he rattled on. "The one with 'more spouses than Elizabeth Taylor', according to Agent Balboa?"

It didn't quite produce the desired response. Gibbs just raised an amused eyebrow, and Kate was struggling to keep from laughing. When the older agent turned to the younger men, DiNozzo and McGee both pointed at Balboa, whose mouth fell open. "You narcs! You tattles! You said that if I used that line you wouldn't tell!"

"Boss," Tony replied, shaking his head with mock regret, "Balboa was just uncontrollable."

"Tony said it was a good idea," Balboa tried. "He said that I had to make this whole hating-him think look believable. So he suggested I tell Martin how I didn't like him or his boss, that I should tell about how many times you were married, and I should tell him how you married Kate and didn't get in trouble and all that. That it would be more believable that way, to stick to the truth." He paused, thinking over what he said. "The semi-truth, considering your undercover assignment. It was Tony's idea, I swear."

Kate stopped laughing and Tony suddenly felt himself with two glares on him. "I did not." He glared at Balboa indignantly and elbowed McGee standing beside him. "Tell them."

McGee looked puzzled. "Tell them what?"

"Tell them Balboa's stories was his own idea," Tony ordered. There was a silence, and then, "PROBIE!"

"I'm sorry," McGee exclaimed. "I remember you coaching him on what to say."

Tony began muttering about his predicament and how both Gibbs and Kate were going to get him for something he didn't do.

McGee, standing next to Balboa, slipped him a twenty and mouthed, "Thank you." Balboa nodded, grinning.

Martin ignored him and just returned to Kate in a crass, snide tone, "You two were really believable in your acting - or was it acting?"

Balboa and Tony gulped as Kate and Gibbs turned to the man. "Aw, c'mon, now, Mart," Tony replied, waving a hand at Kate and reveling silently in the man's wince at the butchering of his name. "Take a look at Kate. Does she look like Gibbs' type? She's not a redhead." Balboa snorted in laughter, then quickly shut up when Gibbs looked at him.

"Rule #12, never date a coworker," McGee recited.

"Thank you, guys, but I'm not so sure about the backhand praise." Kate then turned to the doctor with a smirk. "Thanks for the compliment about the acting," she replied brightly, looking up at Gibbs. "What do you think, Gibbs? I think we should submit 'For your consideration' tapes to the Emmys."

"Eh, they'll never give an Emmy to a military show."

"Good point."

"Aw c'mon, boss, you know we all still love ya, Emmy or not," Tony grinned, obviously enjoying teasing his boss. "Even Kate."

"Tony."

"Yes boss?"

"'Boss' is right. Get out. You have paperwork to do."

"BOSS!"

"As the lead investigator, it'll be more than usual."

Balboa and McGee snickered, then bolted when Tony looked like he was going to ask them to do some of his work. "Boss, you can't just let them run like that. They gotta help."

"You guys never help me," Gibbs pointed out. Tony groaned and trudged out.

Once the door closed, Gibbs turned back to the man.

"You've got nothing on me," Martin hissed.

"We've got five dead sailors and Marines," Gibbs replied, now all seriousness. "And batches of FDA-rejected medicine you were giving to them."

"They needed me. They wanted me to help them, and I did. I can't help if they died."

"You killed them." Gibbs voice dropped lower. "They served their country, and they deserved help, and you killed them."




Tony grinned as he watched Kate cleaning up her desk, having already turned in her part of the case report. Unfortunately, he and McGee were going to be here for awhile. So, the appropriate self-entertainment was in order. "So, was I better?"

Kate shrugged as she filed her folders in the cabinet. "What?"

"Bet being married to me was better than to Gibbs." Tony smirked.

Kate furrowed her brow. "I must have been VERY drunk to do something as stupid as marrying you." McGee snickered.

"Oh, c'mon, Kate. The DNA clinic?"

McGee rolled his eyes, and Kate nodded at him. "My sentiments exactly," she replied. "Besides, Tony, even Jerry Springer Kate wasn't stupid enough to MARRY you."

McGee grinned as he and Kate shared laughs.

"Ha ha." Tony made a face. "So, what was it like, being married to Gibbs?" He bounced his eyebrows, grinning widely.

Kate tugged the rings off her finger and gently slid them back into the box. "I'll say this: if he bought these rings," she replied, snapping the box shut and setting it on Gibbs' empty desk, "he's got taste."

Tony grinned. "That would explain how he got married three times."

"A woman wouldn't agree to marry a guy who told her 'Put 'em on' as a proposal,'' Kate replied in amusement. "That explains the three divorces."

McGee chuckled.

"So, Kate, what kind of proposal would you want?" Tony asked with a grin, leaning back in his chair and interlocking his fingers behind his head.

Kate rolled her eyes as she continued to dig through her purse. "Not one from you."

"Funny, Kate. No, seriously."

Kate looked up from what she was doing in curious amusement, wondering why Tony wanted to know. "Do I have to warn a potential Mrs. DiNozzo to run for her life?" McGee snickered but quickly shut up when Tony turned his head.

Tony made a face at her. "No."

Kate went back to what she was doing. "It's not the proposal or the wedding, Tony, it's the marriage."

"Ha!"

"It is. A nice proposal and a nice wedding are fine, but I have to find someone who's willing to put up with these insane working hours."

"So, you're saying Gibbs is running a nunnery-monastery?" Tony joked, and McGee snorted in laughter. Both shut up in a hurry when Gibbs suddenly appeared in front of them, an eyebrow raised, daring them to laugh anymore. "Not that that's bad." He stood up and walked over to Gibbs' desk, the mirth now gone from his voice. "We...uh, we still have to contact the families of those who died."

"General Cresswell said he'd send Cmdr. Coleman by - help draw up litigation papers against Martin's father-in-law's company, Zetech. They'll be able to sue for damages," McGee added.

"We...thought you and Kate might want to talk to the families, tell them about what happened and give them the JAG number," Tony said quietly. "Since you interviewed most of them."

Gibbs exchanged a look with Kate, who had fallen silent, and nodded. "Good job, Tony. McGee."




MacCLELLAN HOME

Gibbs and Kate watched quietly as silent tears streamed down the face of MacClellan's widow. Dora Cresswell had her arm tightly around her friend, providing what little comfort she could; her husband sat on the other side of her.

"Thank you," Mrs. MacClellan finally said, looking up. "Thank you both."

"We're just sorry we weren't able to catch this guy earlier," Kate said quietly. "NCIS Internal Affairs is starting up a inquiry into the two earlier investigations to see if there were any improprieties. We're also coordinating a joint NCIS and JAG inquiry looking into the two previous JAGman investigations."

"I know it's not much comfort now," the general added, "but I think you should look into filing a claim with JAG, especially since Dan was active duty. I have Cmdr. Faith Coleman and Maj. McBurney handling the preliminaries for litigation against the company."

"Karen," Dora Cresswell said quietly. "At least look for some money to help with funeral costs. From what Biff says, Faith and Mac - McBurney - are very good. And they'll tread gently."

She nodded.

"The attorney general will also be drawing up an inquiry into Brian Martin," Gen. Cresswell continued. "The government inquiry into the VA will take longer, but we will keep you informed of that, too, through Cmdr. Coleman and Maj. McBurney."




KIM HOME

Balboa handed the man a folder. "In here are the claim forms if you want to join the lawsuit against Zetech, Mr. Kim," he said gently. "I suggest that you do. It certainly won't bring your wife back, but it will help you to get some money to help with the debt after her funeral. You can put it aside for your children, too."

The man nodded.

"And don't quote me on this," Balboa added, "but make sure you do tell the JAs in charge that your wife had the so-called epinephrine-looking pen injected into her. That'll help their case and you."

"The JAG told us that he has Lt. Cmdr. Coleman and Major McBurney on the case," Tony replied. "We've worked with them before on a high profile murder case. They've very good." He smiled a little, his eyes twinkling. "Don't worry if they squabble in front of you," he said. "They're just too different not to fight."




LOCAL HOSPITAL

McGee smiled at the former sergeant major. "It's good to hear you're doing all right, Mr. Gilstrap."

"Thank you, kid," the older man coughed. "Never thought Doc Martin would have done this."

"I hope it doesn't break your confidence in other doctors, though," McGee pointed out. "I'm sure the rest of the doctors on your team are good, too. And I know personally that Dr. Pitt's an expert with infectious diseases and the like. He'll be able to clear you up on stuff."

The doctor chuckled. "Don't make me out to be God, Agent McGee," he replied, his eyes twinkling.

"My daughter thinks Dr. Brad Pitt is God's gift to my care," the patient laughed, then coughed.

"Until she saw me in person and realized I didn't look like THE Brad Pitt," the man replied, his eyes twinkling. The doctor followed McGee out. "Don't worry, your former sergeant major Gilstrap should be fine," he assured the agent. "If you don't mind me asking - how many died?"

"Four, and Gilstrap almost made five," McGee replied somberly. "Two went blind."

Pitt shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe this."

"Every barrel has a few bad apples, Dr. Pitt," McGee said. "But every barrel will have a lot of good ones, too." He stuck out a hand. "Thank you very much for agreeing to help on Mr. Gilstrap's case."

"No problem," he replied nodding. "I couldn't say no after Agent Gibbs, Tony, AND Kate showed up to see Gilstrap and ask me to help."

"They'll be coming tomorrow to check up on him," McGee nodded. "Right now...." he trailed off.

"You've got the families of the four who died and the two who went blind to talk to," Pitt replied understandingly.




WALKER HOME

"I thought your sister-in-law wanted you to move out to Hawaii to be with her," Kate said as she helped the petty officer in the kitchen.

"She did," Janice Walker said. "And I stayed with her for a few days. But I would still have a lot to take care of here, first. And my job is here. At least until the Navy transfers me. Mrs. Riley, next door - she helps to watch Paulie a lot for me, so it helps."

Kate nodded, and after a moment, she said softly, "I'm really sorry for your loss, Petty Officer."

"Janice, please." The woman paused a moment, and then smiled sadly. "Thank you."

There was a happy giggle, and both women leaned over slightly to see Gibbs sitting on the floor, smiling as the seventeen-month-old walked unsteadily across the room toward him.

"I have to say, your daughter was unusually cooperative when we took her," Kate replied. "I thought she'd cry endlessly."

The petty officer snorted. "I have to keep a real eye out for her. She has no sense of danger whatsoever - she'll let anybody hold her and walk with her. I'm thinking about buying one of those child harnesses to put on her when she really gets to walking."

Kate chuckled.

"The other day one of my husband's old Marine friends came with his wife to see us. Paulie never met them before. I go into the kitchen to get them some drinks, and I come out finding Paulie sitting happily in one of their laps, eating tiny pieces of watermelon out of their hands. No sense of danger whatsoever."

Kate smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, let me just say she's got a playboy meter that's as sensitive as anything. She won't let Tony get near her."

The petty officer laughed. "Well, that's good to know."

Kate smiled softly and asked, "How are you holding up?"

"I think," the petty officer said softly, "I'm more sorry for my daughter." She watched the small child clap as she reached Gibbs. "She'll never know her father."

"She might not ever see him," Kate replied firmly. "But I doubt that you would ever be able to let her forget him."

PO Walker smiled and nodded. After a moment, she turned to the NCIS agent and then smiled and nodded. "So. What's next?"

"Well, you have all the claim forms," Kate replied. "I think you should file with the lawsuit, even if it's just to get something for Paulie. I've met Cmdr. Coleman - she's careful and she's persistent, and Gibbs seems to think that Maj. McBurney is just as good."

Petty Officer Walker nodded, and then set out a bowl of sliced fruit onto the table before coming back to the kitchen. There was a happy shout, and the two women saw Gibbs carefully watching the tot as she made her way towards the small coffee table. Walker looked at Kate, who was smiling at the small scene. The NCIS agent turned and caught the woman looking at her and smiled. "Your daughter's adorable."

Walker chuckled. "So I always say, but it's nice to hear from someone else." She watched with slight amusement as the NCIS agent turned back to watch Paulie trying to clamber onto the couch next to Gibbs. She caught a death hold onto the couch cushion and hung on, feet suspended from the floor. The three adults watched in amusement as the cushion slowly slid off the couch, and there was a small thud as she landed back on the floor. Gibbs chuckled and carefully picked up the child and set her next to him, and she snuggled against his side as he put his arm around her.

Kate had an amused smile on her face, and Walker chuckled to herself. At that, the NCIS agent turned back to her. "Is it worth it?"

They watched as Paulie gave Gibbs a Cheerio and popped one into her mouth.

Walker smiled softly. "Definitely."





It was rare that anybody came this early to Arlington, even on a weekday.

Barry watched as the brunette made her way up the hill, carrying a large shoulder bag and dressed neatly but in loose clothes. Her arms were filled with flowers, and the senior cemetery caretaker watched as she stopped by yet another headstone and placed a small bouquet there before pulling up a few weeds.

They were fresh graves - a whole bunch had been exhumed by NCIS before, and now reburied. Inactive reserves, honorably discharged soldiers except one active duty. Mostly Marines. There hadn't been much explanation but a certain grim look from his boss. Barry didn't know the details.

The brunette was still on her way up, checking a slip of paper before heading for another headstone. She was a pretty one; he guessed late twenties or early thirties. Just slightly older than his married daughter.

He wondered briefly if she had buried a husband, or a sibling, or a parent - or maybe all three, considering she had already stopped at two stones and was still going. And that was only in the time he'd seen her; no telling how long she'd been at Arlington already. He went back to work.

About twenty minutes later, he looked up to see the brunette now much closer, one last bouquet left, the biggest one he'd noticed her carrying.

She approached a grave and suddenly got a surprised, then wary look on her face. She looked around, then checked her slip of paper and the headstone, and then paused, looking even more confused. She set the flowers down by the headstone and stood quietly there for several minutes, saying nothing but just looking.

He went back to work.

"Sir."

Barry looked up into a pair of warm, gentle brown eyes who smiled at him apologetically. "What can I do for you, miss?"

"I was just wondering if you had seen anyone over by that plot?" She pointed to the one she had been standing at. "Maybe within the last couple days?"

"No, ma'am, I - oh." Barry frowned and thought a little longer. "Yes, there was an older gentleman here yesterday evening," he suddenly said, remembering.

He and some of the other caretakers had been working last night when they saw the man coming, dressed simply in slacks, a shirt, and a sports jacket. Come to think of it, he had stopped at many of the same tombstones the woman standing before him had before coming to this last one. He had left a small bouquet at each of a rare flower. His last stop was the one she asked about now.

Major Timothy Kerry, Barry remembered. That was the name over the grave.

Andy had unwisely tried to chat up the man who had gotten on his hands and knees, cleaning up the stray weeds around the grave. It was more like Andy talking and the man ignoring him as he continued to work.

"Yes," Barry repeated. "There was an older gentleman here last evening. Silver-haired. One of the new kids tried to chat 'im up." He shook his head in amusement. "The man didn't say much, but Andy kept going. At one point the man turns this look on him - sharp, clear blue eyes that had this annoyed expression in them. I remember the strange thing was he said he didn't know the deceased personally."

The woman was staring at him curiously. "Did he say his name?"

"No.... Andy kept asking questions...the gentleman finally admitted he didn't know...uh...Major Kerry. He said he was doing it for...for a friend." The older man watched as the brunette's expression softened and flashed comforted vulnerability for just a second. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"I'm all right, thanks."

"The major your husband?" Barry asked gently.

"No, no," she chuckled tiredly. "I...Tim and I had actually just broken up before he was killed." At Barry's expression, she smiled sadly. "It...it was the right thing to do. I loved Tim, but, ah." She shrugged helplessly. "It was the right thing to do."

Barry smiled at the younger woman, who seemed to still bear a little unwarranted guilt about her ex's death. He shifted a little awkwardly, not sure what to do, when she turned to him. "Um. He...the man who was here last evening, he left some flowers there. I recognize the irises, but the others...." She shrugged. "Do you - do you know the significance of them?"

Barry followed the young woman to the tombstone. "Ah," he murmured, looking at the white irises nestled among soft orange nasturtiums. "The orange ones are nasturtiums. Irises can stand for wisdom and valor, and nastartiums for patriotism," Barry replied. "Courage. You must have noticed them on the other graves."

"Yes, I did."

"Didn't expect a man to know so much about them?" Barry chuckled. "I wouldn't have thought that fellow did, either."

"No, neither would I." She smiled softly when she spoke. "He doesn't like gifts that require attention."

"Yes. Quite appropriate." Barry looked over at the brunette, who was still looking at the headstone and grave. "Is there anything else I can help you with, ma'am?"

"Oh, no, thank you. You've done more than enough, thank you." She smiled.

The cemetery caretaker nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am." He tipped his worn hat and started off, back to his task. When she left a few minutes later, he waved to her and watched her disappear down the hill.

Ten minutes later, it suddenly occurred to Barry that she obviously knew the man who had been there last night.

END
End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.
This story archived at http://www.ncisfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=5162