Abby had been holding her hand behind her back for the better part of an hour. The anticipation was killing her, as she typed one handed and measured chemicals the best she could. She knew Gibbs wouldn’t be there until she found something, and she was sure she’d go crazy if he didn’t get there soon.
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Upstairs, Tony and Ziva were fighting, their eyes locked on each other as each tapped away at their computers without glancing at the screens. They had been like this all morning, not even noticing when McGee had arrived, fidgeting. He sat down in his seat, but got up again almost immediately, started towards the elevator, turned around, sat, buried his face in his hands. The squabble continued.
“It’s only dinner, Ziva!”
“Tony, you cannot do this right under his chin!”
“I’m not doing anything under his nose, it’s not that big a deal!”
“If it is not a big deal, than why did you not ask in front of him and McGee?”
“Ask what in front of me?” They both glanced at McGee, and then went back to the staring contest. He sighed, and went back to jumping each time someone walked by.
“Ziva, you really don’t think he knows?”
“NO, I do not. If he knew, he would have head slapped the idea right out of you!”
“What for, Ziva?” Gibbs arrived with a cup of coffee and his coat over his arm.
“Goodmorning Gibbs.” Ziva looked up at him, then at Tony. Tony glared at her warningly.
“What have you got for me?”
“What? Oh, ‘Got’, as in, the case?”
“Yeah, Dinozzo.”
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Gibbs arrived in the lab fifteen minutes later, a Caf-Pow predictably clutched in his hand. He was met by Abby, already holding a full cup in her right hand, her left bent tightly behind her. There was a strange kind of music on… it seemed to be… Classical?
“Goodmorning Gibbs!”
“Something wrong, Abby?”
“No sir! Nothing at all, sir! I have info for you, sir!”
“Abby?”
“Stop saying sir?”
He nodded, still looking around the room searchingly. His eyes settled on her Caf-Pow.
“Who’d you get that from?”
“Oh… McGee. He came down here earlier, he had some questions.” She paused. Squinted at the ceiling. Frowned. “Well, really only one question…”
“Abby?”
“Right! Well, if you’ll look here, I have the chemical components of the -"
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“Tony, if you do not tell him, I am going to.” Tony looked up from his coffee.
“I know he needs to know, eventually, but it can wait. Maybe… ten years? Twenty? I tell you what,” he muttered “I’ll write him a letter; give it to him in my will.”
“If you do not tell him soon, you will need to write your will immediately! You know he will find out. He is Gibbs!”
“Ziva-“
“If you do not tell him, it is not happening. No Gibbs talk, no dinner.” Tony lay his head on is desk. Mcgee raised his head from a similar position across the aisle. “What are you talking about?”
“I suspect you will hear before long,” Ziva replied, archly. “If not,” she turned and looked at Tony, “There will be nothing to hear about.”
Tony moaned.
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Abby continued about the room, still gesturing at screens and machines, one hand behind her back. Gibbs did not see the point in asking, until he finally recognized the music still playing.
“Abby… is that… a wedding dirge?”
Abby looked at him with wide, falsely innocent eyes? “It is isn’t it? Not really my kind of thing, you know, I always thought that… well, “Wedding Nails” by Porcupine Tree… something you could bang your head too, but McGee and his family might… I just don’t know… I promised I’d at least listen-“
“Abby, what’s going on?”
She unbent her very stiff arm, bringing her hand up cautiously, until he could see the ring on her finger. “McGee asked me to marry him, Gibbs.” She adjusted her footing and brought her hands up in front of her face.
“What are you doing, Abs?”
“I’m bracing myself for a swing, Gibbs!”
“Abby, I would never, ever hit you.” She relaxed. “But I won’t say the same for that little idiot…” He speed walked to the elevator.
“Gibbs! Go easy on him!”
“Rule number twelve, Abs!” The elevator doors closed.
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Gibbs marched into the bull pen and rounded on McGee.
“You. Conference room. Now!” McGee jumped a little, but then sank into his chair.
“Finally,” he sighed, and jumped up, scurrying for the elevator.
Ziva watched them go, then turned to Tony. “He had fire pouring out of his ears.”
“It’s steam, Ziva. And yeah, this doesn’t look like a good time…”
“Looked like fire to me. It is now or never Tony. Get it over with.”
Tony cast a last, despairing look at her, closed his eyes for a split second, then ran to catch the elevator.
“Boss, I-” He stuck his hand in the already closing door.
“Not now, Dinozzo!” Gibbs barked, knocking his hand away.
Tony could feel Ziva’s eyes on his back. “Boss, I’ve asked Ziva out on a date! This Friday. For dinner. Okay?”
Gibbs had had as much as he could take. “You!” He pointed at McGee, jerking his thumb at the desks. “OUT!”
“Boss?” McGee stepped off the elevator.
“All three of you, you STAY HERE, understand?”
“Yes boss!”
“We have a CASE to solve, and I am going to go downstairs and see Ducky.”
“Understood boss!”
“And when I come back, we are going to SOLVE this case. And then,” He paused, “we are going,” he paused again, as if searching for the right word, “to TALK!”
He stepped into the elevator he still held open, and it closed swiftly on his red and furious face.
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Obviously, when Gibbs walked into autopsy moments later, it was with less of his usual focus and control. He did not notice the absence of Ducky’s assistant right away, but heard Ducky’s usual muttering from the last gurney in the room.
“Now, my dear boy, you are a real help to me at last, but I’m afraid that your death defies our original hypothesis. The markings on your neck are identical to our John Doe.” He sighed. “I’m afraid our suspect is far taller than me, and it could not have been him who strangled the poor man. Ah well, sir, death in service is the very best kind.” He laughed, his voice cracking towards the end, maniacally.
He turned around. “Gibbs! I have some rather bad news! Palmer here and I have performed a bit of an experiment, and concluded that our suspect could not in fact have been the murderer!”
Gibbs did not answer. His mouth was hanging open. His thoughts still ranged from “He asked her to MARRY him?” to “I should’ve seen this coming!” but slowly, slowly he was registering the glasses, the pale, pale skin, the bruises around the neck and… Palmer… Jimmy Palmer… dead on the table.
He put his face in his hands. “Ducky, what?” But Ducky had started laughing. From the sound of it, so had Palmer. Palmer. He peaked through his fingers. Palmer was propped up on his elbows, still looking like death, his head thrown back laughing. And from around the corner came Abby and McGee, both shaking with laughter, McGee still nearly as white as Palmer, but with color returning.
Gibbs repeated his question. “Ducky, what?”
“My dear Jethro,” Ducky chuckled. “April fools!”
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Gibbs left the elevator one last time, only to find two very worried looking agents watching his advance. “Oh no, you two!” He laughed, falling into his own seat at last. “I know! I know it is April Fool’s day!”
And Tony, momentarily relieved Gibbs thought their date had been a joke, heard Ziva answer with confusion…
“What is April Fool day?"
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That's my best attempt at trying to keep everyone into character without making a parody of them. Any thoughts?
Author's Chapter Notes:
The first day of the month goes very strangly for Gibbs. Completely cracked, but written with appropriate grammar! :) Oneshot