Chapter 5
It was 0730 when Tim strolled into the office and headed for his desk, greeting a more upbeat Ziva and a still grouchy Gibbs. Ziva at least looked like she had finally gotten at least a half-way decent night's sleep, but Gibbs still looked like hell. Did the man ever sleep? He wondered.
Taking his seat, he turned his attention to his computer. At least that was one constant in his life he could count on: Computers. They were easy to figure out, they did what hey were told, their programs were logical and predictable. People on the other hand.... It was sad to say, but McGee knew that he was way better at computers than he was at getting to know people. That's probably why he wasn't very comfortable with Agent Foster yet as the newest agent greeted him with a friendly smile.
For some reason that made him think of Tony and how much he missed him. Funny how the guy who tormented him on a daily basis could actually be missed, but he couldn't help it. Maybe they had their differences...Okay, maybe they were completely opposite, but Tony had a way of getting under his skin and staying, like an itch that wouldn't go away...no scratch that. He was more like a the big brother he never had that mercilessly teased him all of the time, giving him noogies or slapping him upside the head, calling him endless nicknames by adding 'Mc' to just about anything. But when he was in trouble, which was more often than he cared to admit, he knew Tony would be there to back him up. He always did.
Perhaps thats why he was a little annoyed when Agent Foster came up behind, putting his hand onto the back of his chair as he leaned forward, looking into his screen as he began his work.
“Hey, is that the new system from DoD you're using there?” He asked. McGee looked over his shoulder towards the eager probie, a little uncomfortable with his proximity, but Foster took the hint and backed off a few inches.
“Uh, yeah. It's a lot faster than what we were using previously, I just installed it for everyone last week. You need help with it?” McGee figured the new guy probably would need some instruction on using the new program. Gibbs and Ziva were still swearing every ten minutes when they encountered something new and unfamiliar with it and both had been skeptical that it would be of any benefit, even though McGee knew without a doubt that it was a far superior program to the last version.
“Actually, no. I just wanted you to know that it's great. You're right, it's way faster than what we were using before, especially what I had to use on the Nimitz.”
“So...you get all of this...no problems....nothing you need me to help with?”
“Nope...While I was in the Army we used systems much like this, but this one is by far the best I've encountered in a while. I've always been fascinated by computers and software. In fact, I took the basic and advanced Seized Computer Evidence Recovery Program at FLETC. I was actually interested in possibly getting on the Computer Analysis Response Team for a while there, but I'd much rather do field work. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do. I was working Cyber Crimes for a few months, but it sure wasn't as interesting as working with Gibbs- That's for sure.” Tim replied, agreeing with Foster.
Tim wasn't used to anyone understanding even some of the basics of the computer systems they worked with, except for Abby, but then again she was the exception to just about every rule. But now, having someone on the team that understood more than just the word processor might be quite handy and he couldn't help but be impressed by Foster, even if he came off as a little on the conceited side.
“You two done yammering?” Gibbs suddenly appeared, darkening his desk. “Gear-up we got a dead Marine.”
All the way to the crime scene, McGee and Foster talked software while Ziva sighed every few minutes just to remind them that she was still in the truck. Pulling up to the scene, Gibbs had already beat them there, and was waiting for them to get out, which came as no surprise to either Ziva or McGee, but left the newbie scratching his head.
“How'd he get here so fast?” He asked as they began to file out of the cab. “We all left at the same time.”
“Take a ride with him one day and you'll find out.” McGee informed him. “If there's only one thing Gibbs is incapable of doing, it's going the speed limit.”
Walking up to the truck, Gibbs surveyed his agents before he pointed to a deep ravine just off the shoulder of the highway where they were parked.
“Our dead Marine is one Sgt. Eric Nelson from Quantico and he's at the bottom of the ravine over there. Passer-bys noticed him while they were out walking this morning and called the local LEO's, I'm going to go talk to them. McGee you sketch, Ziva take photos, Foster bag and tag.”
“Wait, Agent Gibbs” As Gibbs began to walk away, Foster took off after him and tapped him on the shoulder, causing the seasoned agent to spin around, giving the new agent a deadly glare.
“What?” Gibbs asked testily.
“Would you mind if I come with you? I've had plenty of experience with collecting evidence before, but I have yet to interview witnesses in the field and I'd love to examine your technique. I also think my experience as an intelligence officer might be better utilized in this way.”
Tim looked at Ziva and they both began to slink away to the back of the truck slowly, hoping to avoid the inevitable explosion they both knew would be coming.
“You have something against what I've assigned you? “ Gibbs asked, irritation marking his features and getting into Foster's face. “If you haven't noticed, we aren't out here for your education, we're here to find out what killed that Marine down there. I don't give a damn what you did before in the Army, you're a federal agent now and if you want to stay on my team for the rest of your T.A.D. you will do the job I just told you to do!” Gibbs pointed to the truck angrily “...Now, get over there, get some damn bags, collect the evidence and tag it! Am I clear or do you need further instructions, Agent Foster?”
“Ah...um...no, Agent Gibbs...I understand.” Foster replied his mouth gaping open a bit.
Without another word besides a scowl, Gibbs turned away again and headed for the witnesses. Foster came and joined McGee and Ziva behind the truck and pulled out a pair of gloves, snapping them on as he found the evidence bags.
“I should have warned you that Gibbs is a little grumpy first thing in the morning” Tim pointed out.
“Yeah, I picked up on that.” Foster retorted, his face unreadable, but Tim knew he had to be upset from the dressing down and more than a little angry for not being allowed to do what he wanted. Hefting the supply bags, Foster took off with the equipment in a huff, leaving Ziva and McGee behind by themselves momentarily.
Tim started to head off towards the body when Ziva grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him back anf giving him an intense look.
“What are you doing, McGee?” She asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You and Foster are getting awfully chubby, are you not?”
“Chubby?” McGee asked with a confused and somewhat hurt face, he had put on a couple of pounds but.....then realization hit him “Oh....Do you mean chummy? Because if you are, we're working together, Ziva. Am I supposed to hate him, just because he's not Tony? He seems like pretty nice guy to me and it can't hurt to be nice back.”
“No. You do not have to hate him, but you do need to keep a professional attitude towards him. He may be a nice guy and you may have a lot in common, but you are the senior field agent for now and he is the Probie. Do you think Tony would have let you just get away with doing what agent Foster just did with Gibbs without letting you know what you were doing wrong?”
“I'm not Tony. I'm not going to go around slapping the back of the poor guy's head every time he makes a mistake.”
“Perhaps you do not have to correct him physically. But, he does need correction in one form or another or he is bound to repeat his mistakes and when he does, just who do you think Gibbs will blame?”
Tim sighed realizing she was right. By now, Tony would have smacked him so hard, his head would have spun around like a top, but he would know without a doubt that he would never make whatever mistake he just made again.
“I guess you're right.” McGee agreed as he and Ziva headed down the hill to the scene where Foster was already beginning his work. Ziva went off to take photos while McGee walked up to Foster.
“Hey, Just a few things we need to clear up real quick here.” Foster looked up at McGee from his crouched position on the ground next to the body and stood.
“I think it's time you learn some of Gibbs' rules.” McGee continued.
“Rules? What rules, Agent McGee?” He asked.
“The rules... The rules everyone that works with Gibbs needs to learn.” McGee tried to explain.
“Okay. You think you could email me a copy of them to my PDA and I'll look them over when we get back to the office?”
“Well, no., I can't. Infact, I don't think anyone has ever written them all down. You just gotta kinda learn them. So, today we'll start will rule number 15.”
“Rule 15?”
“Yeah. Always work as a team- We all work together, Foster. That means no one job is more important than another. We all have a vital role to play when it comes to investigations, whether that's collecting the evidence, questioning witnesses or just doing the paperwork. So when Gibbs or I or Ziva give you a job to do you.... do it because it's for the team and no one works alone here.”
“Okay." Foster nodded then added: "So, just how many of these rules are there?”
“About 50 or so, I think.”
“Why didn't Gibbs tell me about this?”
“If you haven't noticed. He's a little distracted lately.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.... I'm sorry. Agent McGee. It won't happen again.”
“Oh, that's another rule- number 26. Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness.”
“I guess have a lot to learn when it comes to Agent Gibbs.” Foster leaned in to McGee with a little grin. “Is there a way to get on his good side?”
“Sure- if he had one.” Foster's face fell. “I'm just kidding, just do as you're told and don't question Gibbs and you just might survive your T.A.D.” McGee slapped his back and walked off to start sketching.
OOOOOOOOOO
Gibbs noticed the coroner's van pull up just as he wrapped up his interview with the young couple that encountered the body while out for a walk. There was little information they could offer other than the time they found the body, so hopefully Ducky could shed some light on the case.
He approached the van, hearing a familiar argument between Palmer and Ducky as they had become hopelessly lost for almost half an hour before finding the crime scene.
“I turned right, just like you said doctor.” Palmer complained as Ducky walked around the front of the van.
“I said the first right after the expressway, Jimmy, not the second.....” Gibbs walked up just as the older doctor was prepared to lay into his assistant.
“Duck.” Gibbs greeted as Jimmy made his escape to back of the van.
“Ah, Good morning, Jethro. Once again, I must apologize for our tardiness. I'm afraid that neither Mr. Palmer nor myself is very familiar with this particular area.”
Gibbs wasn't paying too much attention to Ducky's apology as he caught sight of and was looking down the hill at the three agents busily working the crime scene below. While they all quickly and efficiently performed their assigned tasks, there was an emptiness about it.
He knew what it was immediately.
It wasn't just something that was missing, but someone.
There was none of the easy banter or light joking around there usually was at crime scenes like these. Tony always had a way of releasing some of that nervous tension that always came with seeing another human being laying dead on the ground. With a little gallows humor, tales of his sexual exploits, practical jokes or inappropriate movie references, he had a way of making people forget that they were dealing with sometimes gruesome and terrible ways to die and instead had them focusing their energy on being annoyed with him. Sure, sometimes he could take it a little far, but a quick smack to the back of the head usually let him know when to reign it in. But without him here, things were just downright grim and Gibbs was surprised to find himself quite off-put and maybe even a little disturbed by the way McGee, Foster and Ziva methodically examined the scene without so much as a word to each other.
“It's just not the same without him here, is it?” Ducky asked, reading his mind.
“Nope.” He agreed. “But it's certainly quieter.”
“Indeed, but quiet is not always a good thing.”
“You get a chance to look over that file, Duck?”
“Oh, yes. It was quite interesting.”
“What do you think?”
“Is that famous gut of yours churning, Jethro? For I hear the distinct tincture of concern in your voice over your newest addition.” Ducky pointed out. Gibbs had indeed begun to feel a little niggle of something with Foster, especially after their little issue with the task Gibbs gave him earlier. He wasn't sure if it was just the over-eagerness that got to him or just his own feelings about Foster replacing Tony that got in the way, either way, he hoped Ducky could enlighten him.
“Perhaps. I just want to know if I can trust him.” Gibbs admitted.
“Or perhaps, you just don't want to trust him.” Duck returned. “Because he's no substitute for Anthony and you are afraid that might affect your judgment of him- Bias you against him.”
“Thats why I'm asking what you think of him.”
“Well in that case, I suppose I should begin by telling you that there is nothing in his record to suggest that there is anything that could be considered alarming. He was an outstanding student, outstanding officer, outstanding at FLETC and outstanding on the Nimitz. In fact, I would venture to say that Agent Foster had quite possibly never failed at anything he has ever attempted in his life. He is driven, ambitious and his record veritably shines in the sun it is so highly polished.”
“So, in other words: he's perfect.”
“No one is perfect, Jethro. What worries me is the fact that he appears to have never failed at anything. He began his life in a troubled home, but worked his way out and everything he has sought after that, everything he has worked and strived for, he has achieved. Certainly a man with such a tightly wound, and classic Type-A personality might be catastrophically demoralized if he should ever not attain any goal he has set for himself, no matter how lofty. However, this is just an assessment from what I have gathered from his personnel file. Of course, I can't truly make a complete profile on the lad until I've had a chance to interact with him.”
“I know, Ducky.” Gibbs turned back to his friend with a ghost of a smile. “I just want you to know that I appreciate your opinion.....and I am listening.”
Remembering the conversation he had with Ducky the previous day, Gibbs couldn't help but feel a small pang of remorse for so quickly dismissing the doctor's opinion that he should take it slow when it came to Tony's recovery. Gibbs had had all night sanding his boat to think about it and had come to the realization that Ducky might be right, even if he didn't want him to be. He knew that Ducky would never expect an apology from Gibbs, so letting him know that he considered his advice invaluable would just have to suffice.
“I'm glad to hear it.” Ducky nodded with a grin, his non-apology accepted. Gibbs patted his old friend on the shoulder and moment later Palmer walked up to them, his hands loaded up with supplies.
“Well, Mr. Palmer, shall we find out what our friend down there has to tell us about how he came to such an unfortunate end?”
“Ready if you are, Doctor Mallard.” Jimmy told him.
“Good then, let's go.”
Ducky and Jimmy descended the ravine carefully, joining the other three agents at the bottom and Gibbs followed closely behind.
OOOOOOOOOO
That afternoon, while Foster, McGee and Ziva headed back to the Navy Yard. Gibbs decided to pay Tony a visit in lieu of his usual lunch-time coffee run. Upon entering the room, he found the younger agent had been taken out of the traction and had his thicklt casted legs propped up on pillows instead. With the head of the bed lifted up, he was in a partial sitting position with his back off the bed, looking to be in agony. The television set was on, but Tony wasn't paying much attention to it. To Gibbs, he looked about as miserable as he had ever seen him.
“DiNozzo.” He greeted him and was rewarded with a smile from Tony, even if it was somewhat forced and pain-filled.
“Hey boss.” Tony flipped off the TV and dropped the remote onto the table beside him.
“You need some medicine?” Gibbs asked, seeing how much he appeared to be in pain.
“Nah...I'm good.” Gibbs knew he was lying, but Tony could be a stubborn one sometimes. “Doctor wants me to try sitting up a little now that my legs are down to take some of the pressure off my back and keep the strength up in my muscles, but it tends to make things a little more...uncomfortable.” Tony grimaced.
“How long does he want you to do that?”
“A few minutes every hour to start with, then I can start increasing it to a couple times each hour.”
“How long has it been?” Gibbs gave him a look that told Tony not to lie to him.
“About six minutes.” Tony admitted. A fine sheen of sweat was breaking out over his brow as he pushed himself to remain up-right. In one way, Gibbs was proud of Tony's determination to get better, yet in the back of his head he could hear Ducky's words of warning about pushing him too hard too soon.
“Sounds like your time's up then. Why don't you lay back?” Gibbs suggested in a way that was more of an order.
“I'm fine boss. The longer I can do this, the sooner I can get out of here.”
“I said, lay back.” Gibbs sighed as Tony finally laid back, relief evident on his face. “You're not doing yourself any favors by trying to do more than the doctors tell you to do.”
“Sounds like you've been talking to Ducky.” Tony reasoned with a scowl, grabbing some water from the table and taking a quick swig.
“You should listen to him. He's rarely wrong.” Gibbs wasn't surprised to see Tony sigh in frustration.
“I just don't think I can take much more of this- of just laying here and waiting to get better.” The younger man closed his eyes and shook his head as much as he could while still wearing the neck brace. “God...I can't even sit up without feeling like I'm going to die. I can't stay like this for long. I just can't.”
“Look at me, Tony.” Tony opened his eyes and looked into Gibbs' blue ones. “I'm getting you back on my team and I don't give a damn whether it's sooner or later-no matter how long it takes. So you better listen to what the doctors tell you to do...to the letter...got it?”
“Sure.” Tony responded despondently and looked away. Gibbs knew how it was trying the other man's patience to be so weak when only a week before, he had been in excellent health. Looking back on it, ordering Tony to not die of the plague had been a cakewalk compared to this, but he was confident that despite it all, Tony would listen to him, even if he didn't particularly want to.
“Good...Now quit being a jackass, take your goddamn medicine and get some rest.” Gibbs demanded as he tapped the back of Tony's head, rose from his seat and began to head for the door. “I'll stop by later.”
“Bring me a pizza?” Tony asked just as Gibbs reached for the doorknob, his smile returning slowly. Even if it wasn't the brightest one he had ever seen grace the face of the younger man, it was enough for Gibbs to know that he was getting through.
The former Marine couldn't resist it and returned the smile himself. “Extra cheese, extra pepperoni and sausage, right?.”
“That would be one, boss.”
TBC.......
The T.A.D. by Angie
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: Just so you know, I'm no medical expert or anything even remotely close to one, so any scene with Tony going through his recovery and physical therapy are about 1/2 wikipedia and 1/2 made-up, so please forgive me for my inaccuracies, of which I am sure there are many. Anyway, on with the show: